tiffie101's Xanga

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Sat, 26 Dec 2009 02:27:12 GMT

sometimes i sit at work and wonder what it would be like if no humans have a sense of time. it would be weird. i read somewhere once that animals, insects, heck. plants, don't have a sense of time. leaving a dog at home for 10 minutes to go and get a packet of gum from the corner store would be the equivalent to moving to Austria for 10 years.. at least from the dog's point of view.

time seems to never pass by fast enough these days. time at work, time spent in lectures..it kind of sucks..but what sucks even more is that when you grow older, apparently your sense of time speeds up. days begin to pass by faster and faster. that's why i think old people love routines. it's to keep them in check that time isn't cheating them while they werent looking.

i once had a long conversation with a friend about pulling wisdom teeth. he told me that going under general anesthesia is like blinking and waking up 1 second later. not like sleeping, there's no sense of time in between. if someone wanted to fast forward their lives to a point in time in the future, they could simply just keep doing that until they're satisfied. i don't think i would do that if i was ever given choice though. it would be too scary. one day i'll wake up and somebody will inform me that bellbottoms are back in style and that jellyfish have taken over the world. that would be a scary day.

star struck, raw beef

Sun, 31 May 2009 05:33:33 GMT

i sat in the wooden chair up in the treehouse on a rainy day and notice all the carvings made by bark beetles along my armrest. the rain dropped down on the cedar boards like little meteorites. the pulses in the little puddles reminded me of tiny little life with beating hearts. all this life is happening at once but none of it is synchronized. none of it makes any sense!

there's a lot of things that look differently when looked at for the second time.

Monday, November 03, 2008

Mon, 03 Nov 2008 04:58:06 GMT

creation. dedication. observation. communication. realization. frabrication. generation. temptation. radiation. imagination. floatation. expectation. reification. duplication. investigation. fabrication. respiration. transformation. continuation. repetition. repetition. repetion. deletion. deletion. deletion. continuation. classification. justification. realization. realization. realization. imagination. deletion. deletion. deletion. deletion. destruction. completion. the end.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 01:51:24 GMT

My mind wanders.

When I look around me now I think wow...what happened to everyone? or better yet, what happened to me? I used to sit down and write down every thought, itch, feeling I had in painful amount of detail as if i had something to prove. now I just let those feelings run loose in the back of my mind until it goes away.

I'm back at that neutral state again, where everything just feels so fucking numb. I listen to music that depresses me, and I open my kitchen cupboards multiple times expecting food to just magically appear. I am the abandoned child of Tickle. Standing on the bus with smelly people 2 hours a day and riding a foldup bike around campus. I even wear plaid now.

My thoughts are fragmented. I write my papers in big chunks and try to piece them together in the end like puzzle pieces.

I wish you were here. I miss you. if we hadn't gotten in silly fights all the time, I'd miss you more. but I still miss you.

Anonymous

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 04:18:01 GMT

I don't know why I keep listening to songs that remind me of warm, familiar times not too long ago. like a friend once said, driving plus sad songs is a prescription straight to hell. I guess i won't be driving much lately, but I've found a couple of ways to fall asleep at night.

Crying is a good way to tire yourself out. If you drink plenty of water and prepare spoons in the freezer to cure the puffy eyes in the morning, there's nothing better than a good cry.. at least it feels like you're accomplishing something. It's like picking at a scab before it's ripe. you know it's bad reopening a fresh wound with dirty fingers, but some sick and twisted part of your brain tells you that you enjoy the self-induced pain.

Another one apparently is masturbation. although i've been quite turned off lately by myself...i think i'm going to have to start trying that one soon. maybe even repeat several times a day because effects are brief.

During the day, it's good to try and wake up as late as possible and afterwards, keep busy with whatever, such as cleaning your room, watching movies, or go out with what little friends you have remaining after a long relationship. At the end of the day, if still can't sleep, it's wise to repeat the above 2 procedures to fall asleep.

But in the end, nothing will do much to help the pain accept to wait it out. it's not some poisonous venom that you can push out by crying...it's something very raw. and it's real... And what's worse than a broken heart is one that's responsible for breaking the other person's also. I write as if I'm the victim here, but the truth is..I could've prevented all of this from happening, but things aren't the same as they used to be, and I'm sorry I had to do it...i wake up with a feeling of regret. deep sense of remorse. But i know in the end.. these feelings will subside, and we'll be left of memories of a once beautiful relationship. something pure and euphoric. something worthy of joy and pain all at the same time.

Equilibrium

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 07:11:25 GMT

Ever hear a song that makes your mind shift into a state of neutralness? a state of complete blank..yet everything feels so complete and perfect at the same time. like you just switched on cruise control and have been watching yourself drive down the highway for hours. like swimming and being able to breath under water. or flying in one of your dreams.

If anything I learned from school, is that almost everything exists in a state of equilibrium. Law of physics tells us that anything in the state of order will try to become chaos, entropy, unless there's a force confining the molecules. they will try to re-establish equilibrium as quick as possible, by process of diffusion, or other methods of spreading, or by simply remaining in chaos.

Sometimes, during certain moment in my life, certain moments of "truth" or whatever you call it, it feels like I'm living one of these songs. Where the bass drifts on foreeeeever. and the bells chime once in a while. a whistle here and there. These moments are completely random. they can be momens during the middle of a good conversation. or at a time of loneliness. it can occur when i'm just about to laugh, or right after a good cry. it can occur when i'm sitting in the middle of a grass field at night, or when i'm cuddled in a blanket in my room listening to the rain outside. most often they occur in a moment when i realize how small i am in this world. i like the feeling of watching and listening to the trees sway to the wind at night, or the sound of thunder, because i feel engulfed.. it's comforting to know that i'm still only a little teenie tiny part of nature.

sometimes i think we become too full of ourselves. we spend too much time building little empires around ourselves, forgetting that it can be destroyed so easily and instantly by a hurricane. not saying we shouldn't build structure and stability around our lives, but most of the time these structures end up limiting us. "Order wishes to become in Chaos". [fart molecules will spread until they are at equal and maximum distance with each other in a room] then the room becomes another confinement for the fart molecules. until they are released into the universe, they will never be at peace. I picture people as molecules in a room, waiting for the structures to collapse so we can break free.. when that day comes, we'll be at peace. we'll finally reach equilibrium again.

The Character

Wed, 18 Jun 2008 01:25:08 GMT

Recently, I've started classifying certain people into a category. The Character.

A character is somewhat of an attention whore. He or she is someone who attracts attention for being different for eccentric, someone who possesses qualities that draw either good or bad attention. Most often, a character spends way too much time perfecting their outer appearance to reflect an ideal image of their personality. That outer image then becomes a part of their personality. An example would be someone who wears makeup everyday. Once they get used to it, they can't stand the thought of being sighted without their shell, their character.

A lady appeared on Style By Jury one time, dressed up in hippie's outfit and arms full of beads. When the stylists tried to remove her bead bracelets, she explained that she was very attached to each of them because every one of them represented an event in her life. To everyone else, they were just meaningless objects that probably have millions of dead skin cells trapped in between them cause they've never been removed from her arm. That, is an ideal example of a character.

You're either a character, or not a character.

Spice Girls. Characters. Baby, Sporty, Posh, Ginger, Scary.

Girlicious. Not Characters. Slutty, Slutty, Slutty, Slutty.

Friday, May 30, 2008

Fri, 30 May 2008 04:30:53 GMT

I spent 4 days already trying to clean out everything from my room. My mother yells in the background about how cleaning my room is good for me, but every time i think of dust particles travelling down my trachea to my bronchioles...along with dust mites which I'm allergic to, I frown and turn up my music. Hardwood flooring. For the longest time, I couldn't figure out the significant difference between hard and soft wood. Softwood, originating from deciduous trees such as the coniferous, goes on your wall, where gravity is perpendicular to the easily dentible wood, and picture frames get fucking hammered into them. Hardwood, having a much larger density and micropores than softwood, can withstand more stress without giving away its shape. However, the similarity between the two is that if a dog pisses on either of them, they will eventually lose its lovely shape and polish.

So i've been watching the masses of shit gradually disappear off my shelves, mostly ending up in the room next door. I'm glad to see them go though. Then I started thinking about why we even buy things in the first place. Perhaps it's the 12 inch-platform-shoe trend back in the 90's or some other sorts of weird fetishes we've had in the past, but in the end, I think it's the pure excitement of seeing something for the very first time. I bet, if we took all the garbage we've thrown out in the past 10 years and transformed it into some massive, thing with a whole new shape and different colored paint, we've be like. WHOA, that's fucking tight. Of course, it would satisfy our curiosity for about 30 minutes, then we wouldn't know what to do with it and eventually dump it again.

Sometimes I feel like i'm born in the wrong century. I mean, we don't have any great wars or anything, but like Tyler Durden said, "the great depression is our lives" and "the things you own end up owning you." I don't know how many times that line's been quoteed, but Chuck Palanuik is genius for phrasing the obvious.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 04:55:28 GMT

i've always wondered why i have trouble writing when there's music playing. i guess it's a clash of different frequencies. i can't express my thoughts when somebody else is interupting me with their love song.

there's a video we watched in bio on zombie snails that's always haunted me. the snails are actually possessed by these parasitic protozoacs called Toxoplasma Gondii that cause them to go berserk with pulsing antennas that look like maggots to attract birds. that's the image that came into my mind when i stood in the crowd of zombie junior highschoolers on e, staring blankly into the light, and waiting to get preyed on. a generation of young and nocturnal creatures, crawling about and dancing away in the darkness, hoping nobody would notice the multiple stains on your shirt. beautiful in its metaphor for complete and utter waste =)

Saturday, December 29, 2007

Sat, 29 Dec 2007 00:17:45 GMT

i can't even write anymore