The Subtle Threats Of Living

May 29, 2007

It was pissing rain by the time we went out of the Mall of Asia just an hour or so ago. I had this anxiety and resentment reposing in my chest so I dragged us out to the angry downpour of water outside. My black pointed flats got flooded within five seconds, my grey schoolgirl skirt clung to my knees in ten. I don't know why I had to do this. I felt mad, not angry mad—crazy mad. Must be the PMS. Pre-menstrual syndrome, that is.

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A General Review of Life. Mine, Specifically.

What I want more than anything else in the world is nothing. Sure I want tons of stuff seeing as I am probably the most materialistic person I know; thing is, I have no burning desire to acquire anything beyond everything at all. I just cavort through life in a seemingly pointless manner.

 

I say, where are the days when romance was the The Thing? When it was all or nothing? When things like love and hate, good and evil, beauty and truth were defined in absolutes? It’s just probably, no, definitely me, but an inordinate number of things in life in general strike me as bland and ascetic. To my mind, the level of artificiality in the 21st century has risen to dizzying, depressing, and suicidal heights. Fuck it. Sure this is the Age of Raging Hormones, of Capitalism, of Rock n’ Roll, of Homosexuality, and a bunch of other seemingly romantic notions. But it all seems to me superficial, manufactured, and shallow. I think deep down, something is dying within the human race. Something important (imagine Gandalf or Aslan saying this, I swear you won’t snigger).

 
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