Sunday, May 02, 2004

A-Musing

I'm rather lost right now. Two poisoned apples are sitting in front of me, and someone is telling me to eat them. Can I tell that person that I don't want to? Of course I can, you say, but things are so much more complicated than that. It seems that my goodwill has been turned around and has pushed me into a difficult position. I shall not try to elaborate any further. Metaphors within metaphors, riddles within riddles; they only serve to confuse, not to enlighten, and my feelings of confusion are not noticeably less even with the outburst.

Poisoned apples makes me think of the poem by William Blake. "I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, night and morning with my tears; ...," so it goes. I always remember the impact that poem had on me when I first read it at the impressionable age of 13. Such a powerful metaphor that I was in awe of the beauty of the image that was conjured in my brain. Ah, but all this is beside the point. It's true, though, and I have experienced it so many times; when you do not tell your wrath, it just festers, a rot that consumes the fibre of your being. And yet, telling one's wrath is not always as easy as it is made out to be.

As you can see, I was possessed for a moment by my rather annoying propensity for the use of flowery and verbose English, and for that I must apologise, if it has in any way put you off. I am simply frightfully in love with the way verbose speeches sound.

"It hurts to care. It hurts to love." Such powerful words, that they leaped out at me from the pages of Mountain of Black Glass (Book Three of Otherland) and for a moment nothing else existed but those two simple sentences, as said by Martine Desroubins. It is in such moments that I see authors as nothing less than pure geniuses (well, not all authors, but those that make me feel like this). How should I put this; to have a particular emotion or view - that you have been aware of subconsciously but never put words to its existence - encapsulated so magically into gracefully simple words is nothing short of a revelation. Perhaps it is the fault of my shallow view of the world, that I get so excited by simple things like the abovementioned, but that is how I am.

Nothing that I say or write can match the poetic beauty of those eight words, but they have touched me deeply. It hurts.

Speaking of the Otherland, I am getting mightily frustrated with it, since after ploughing through three books and two thousand three hundred pages worth of story I am still pretty much lost. I have no idea what is going on since all the technical blahblah just gives me a headache trying to decipher and Tad Williams has yet to explain anything. He just drops a few tantalising tidbits here and there, like the metaphorical carrot. The poor donkey, meanwhile, is so happy to find these tidbits that he reads them over and over again. The last volume better be something good, or I will smash something.

Episode Twenty-nine of Fullmetal Alchemist seems to be the prelude to a considerable amount of excitement, action and revelations, and I am currently pretty much waiting with bated breath for the next release. --What I am going to write next might be considered a spoiler to some, so for people who hate spoilers, skip this paragraph-- Anyway I seriously don't think it's much of a spoiler, for those who have been watching the show seriously and been using their brains. I feel rather stupid for only realising it now, after Ep twenty-nine, but it just struck me the other day that Homunculus are borne of failed attempts at human alchemy. Which explains why Lust looks like the wife of Scar's brother and Sloth looks like Edward and Alphonse's mother. Interesting. Just how is the million dollar question. And that child too, with Edward's arm and leg. I wonder where he comes from. Which is precisely why I cannot wait for more episodes to watch.

As you might have noticed, I am not exactly a very patient person.

In other news, I have finally laid hands on a new bag, and at a pretty affordable price too. Pretty happy. I got it yesterday at Bugis, being directed there by my younger brother who obtained a bag at an impossibly low price. Of course, like I said in my last blog entry, I was with orionway, and after getting the bag we headed for the Robinson's warehouse sale where he bought over two hundred dollars worth of clothes. It was what he called an "investment", and I agree. My opinion is, though, that one cannot make an investment without the necessary capital in the first place (stating the obvious again, I am). Hmm I realised I do not have a point to make. Anyway, was pretty surprised when he offered to give me a treat, as a celebration for his recent promotion. Of course, I eagerly accepted this (dare I say it) once-in-a-lifetime offer. I had almost forgotten how good the food is at Kenny Rogers'.

I haven't had enough time to properly read up on my FRS topic, and I feel rather abashed, since we are having a group meeting tomorrow. It is the topic I suggested, after all, and I have the rather nasty feelings that I will be expected to direct the progress of our research. Ah, but the worries of one day are more than enough for that day, and it does one no good to worry too much.

Avaris / 5/02/2004 10:07:00 PM

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