when i speak of romance and romantics i dont mean to someone. we are all narcissists married to the ball and chain of our ego. i declare a romance to the self. what better way is there to be happy with everything and content with nothing?
Lennard with a sigh, a grin and a shrug.
2006-07-31
2006-07-22
2006-05-29
Driving home from Jon's place, I was blessed with the serendipity of coasting through 5 green lights in a row. Passing through each gateway brought mounting tension and joy. "Yes! I made it through!" followed by "will I make the next one?". You know how it is- the higher you are, the harder you fall.
After the fifth green light, the subsequent 6th, 7th and 8th shone an angry red, nullifying what would have otherwise qualified as a homerun. Thus, the net score for the night stood at 2-green-lights-in-a-row.
If I said "make a wish if you pass through 3 greenlights in a row", you would dismiss it as Lennard Being Silly. And so I add the necessary "someone once told me that...", thus sanctifying it as fact/urban-legend.
perhaps thats how the four leaf clover, brokenglass and walking-under-the-ladder-type stories started- "I heard that if you..."
After the fifth green light, the subsequent 6th, 7th and 8th shone an angry red, nullifying what would have otherwise qualified as a homerun. Thus, the net score for the night stood at 2-green-lights-in-a-row.
If I said "make a wish if you pass through 3 greenlights in a row", you would dismiss it as Lennard Being Silly. And so I add the necessary "someone once told me that...", thus sanctifying it as fact/urban-legend.
perhaps thats how the four leaf clover, brokenglass and walking-under-the-ladder-type stories started- "I heard that if you..."
2006-05-19
i'm jealous of you and now you will be my wife.
its like the sun and alcohol because everything revolves around it fuelled by cigarette smoke wisping through our clothes staining it the colour teeth. a stork will fly past at night with no package and don't ask why not. the wrong questions are the ones with the answers. the right questions no one answers because no one asks it.
i am jealous of the moon. i am envious of the sun. you don't have to ask me why, i'll tell you when i will. remember that the right questions are the ones no one answers, so don't ask it.
its like the sun and alcohol because everything revolves around it fuelled by cigarette smoke wisping through our clothes staining it the colour teeth. a stork will fly past at night with no package and don't ask why not. the wrong questions are the ones with the answers. the right questions no one answers because no one asks it.
i am jealous of the moon. i am envious of the sun. you don't have to ask me why, i'll tell you when i will. remember that the right questions are the ones no one answers, so don't ask it.
2006-05-09
i'm still alive still well barely breathing
just saw 5 Takes on discovery and thats the reason i'm breathless - with excitement, anticipation and fear of my upcoming trip to Europe. Will i survive in haughty france? how about the movie Hostel?! and my money - will i get robbed/cheated/conned, or just plain blow it all during my first week in amsterdam?
flashback to bring you up to date on the plot. come may 31 i leave for London for a 50-odd day trek through Europe with yoon. London - Amsterdam - Berlin - Prague - Krakow - Budapest - Brasov - Bucharest - Athens - Corfu - Rome - Venice - Marsellies - Barcelona - Pomplona - Bilbao - Bordeaux - Paris - London. Whew! try say it in one breath. I can barely remember it offhand.
so thats whats new. I got back from bali-jakarta a few weeks back.
Bali was dead quiet for what used to be a tourist town. its horrible what the bombings did. I visited the two bomb sites and they had a giant memorial erected at one. i didn't get to surf cause of the (mostly) wet weather but i did eat at this place where they roasted a WHOLE pig and when you order they pull the meat off and slap it on a plate of rice with this oh-so-delicious clear oily sauce that had chopped chillies and onions in it.
jakarta on the other hand was like right out of "blade runner". Apocalyptically chaotic but somehow it worked. maybe the chaos theory doth work huh. the motorcycle riders there were like mosquitos, bzzzzing everywhere, seemingly from out of nowhere. I could be taking a dump and i wouldn't be surprised if a 50cc beeped past me. the young-uns in jakarta also had this odd fashion of wearing their helmet backwards. i kid you not.
but the oddest thing i found. okay not oddest, but weird thing, was that - all indonesian mcdonald's outlets had no breakfast menu! or milkshakes! but the burgers were really nice- the buns were super greasy and so was the patty. mmmMmmmMm.
ok i've covered my past, my future so on to the now. My direct neighbour's doing maj renovations with involves LOTS of drilling. it feels like i'm living in the mouth of a dentist's patients. and my dads a dentist. har de har. poetic justice for the pain he's inflicted? just kidding. he's the best. (seriously. want an appt? ask me- i hook you up goood).
found a killer section at the new national library. found this book on the unique 'space' of architecture and why traditional art-critique doesn't work because of it. it blew my mind reading it today till these gaggle of students came chittychittybangbang and sat their noisy asses next to me. i told them to shhhhhh tho. does that make me a prick? but its a goddamn library! it should be silent as the grave. architecture will save your soul.
ciao
just saw 5 Takes on discovery and thats the reason i'm breathless - with excitement, anticipation and fear of my upcoming trip to Europe. Will i survive in haughty france? how about the movie Hostel?! and my money - will i get robbed/cheated/conned, or just plain blow it all during my first week in amsterdam?
flashback to bring you up to date on the plot. come may 31 i leave for London for a 50-odd day trek through Europe with yoon. London - Amsterdam - Berlin - Prague - Krakow - Budapest - Brasov - Bucharest - Athens - Corfu - Rome - Venice - Marsellies - Barcelona - Pomplona - Bilbao - Bordeaux - Paris - London. Whew! try say it in one breath. I can barely remember it offhand.
so thats whats new. I got back from bali-jakarta a few weeks back.
Bali was dead quiet for what used to be a tourist town. its horrible what the bombings did. I visited the two bomb sites and they had a giant memorial erected at one. i didn't get to surf cause of the (mostly) wet weather but i did eat at this place where they roasted a WHOLE pig and when you order they pull the meat off and slap it on a plate of rice with this oh-so-delicious clear oily sauce that had chopped chillies and onions in it.
jakarta on the other hand was like right out of "blade runner". Apocalyptically chaotic but somehow it worked. maybe the chaos theory doth work huh. the motorcycle riders there were like mosquitos, bzzzzing everywhere, seemingly from out of nowhere. I could be taking a dump and i wouldn't be surprised if a 50cc beeped past me. the young-uns in jakarta also had this odd fashion of wearing their helmet backwards. i kid you not.
but the oddest thing i found. okay not oddest, but weird thing, was that - all indonesian mcdonald's outlets had no breakfast menu! or milkshakes! but the burgers were really nice- the buns were super greasy and so was the patty. mmmMmmmMm.
ok i've covered my past, my future so on to the now. My direct neighbour's doing maj renovations with involves LOTS of drilling. it feels like i'm living in the mouth of a dentist's patients. and my dads a dentist. har de har. poetic justice for the pain he's inflicted? just kidding. he's the best. (seriously. want an appt? ask me- i hook you up goood).
found a killer section at the new national library. found this book on the unique 'space' of architecture and why traditional art-critique doesn't work because of it. it blew my mind reading it today till these gaggle of students came chittychittybangbang and sat their noisy asses next to me. i told them to shhhhhh tho. does that make me a prick? but its a goddamn library! it should be silent as the grave. architecture will save your soul.
ciao
2006-04-01
To all naysayers, think about it.
Hellboy (the movie) is, at its core, a love story about a freak (hellboy) who loves another freak (selma blair) who doesn't want to admit she loves him because she doesn't want to admit shes a freak, but in the end she see's the light (haha.) and they lip-lock in a mouth-to-mouth baked-alaska. How lovely is that? Its a modern-day fairy tale with the obligatory "and-they-lived/loved-happily-ever-after".
if you don't like that then you don't bloody believe in the ideal of love (if we don't have the ideal, then what do we have? the practical aspect sure doesn't cut it!).
To hell with you! even satan's spawn gets it!
Hellboy (the movie) is, at its core, a love story about a freak (hellboy) who loves another freak (selma blair) who doesn't want to admit she loves him because she doesn't want to admit shes a freak, but in the end she see's the light (haha.) and they lip-lock in a mouth-to-mouth baked-alaska. How lovely is that? Its a modern-day fairy tale with the obligatory "and-they-lived/loved-happily-ever-after".
if you don't like that then you don't bloody believe in the ideal of love (if we don't have the ideal, then what do we have? the practical aspect sure doesn't cut it!).
To hell with you! even satan's spawn gets it!
2006-03-23
zouk last night was a hilarious comedy with a guy pushing me and isaac they all jumping in with
bravado and in a weird chain of events we ended up friends with that guy's friends and kennedy and justin had a damn big fight. just don't ask. haha.
tiff- relax. sorry if you feel i hijacked your quote but technically you got it from someone else who got it from someone else who probably got it from someone else. we'd all like to think we're special but its a thin illusion at best.
bravado and in a weird chain of events we ended up friends with that guy's friends and kennedy and justin had a damn big fight. just don't ask. haha.
tiff- relax. sorry if you feel i hijacked your quote but technically you got it from someone else who got it from someone else who probably got it from someone else. we'd all like to think we're special but its a thin illusion at best.
2006-03-20
"you're a bi-curious!" proclaimed Lesley after our night out at Happy with her queens (its a gay soiree! or so i say).
"he dances like one, at least" said her fagfriend. but truth is i love girls (boobies!) too much but i think what jennifer clement says hits closest to home.
"It was clear that his sexual interest was not monochromatic. It did not rely on visual stimulation, such as a pretty girl. It was a very rich multi-chromatic sexuality. He was attracted to people for all
different reasons. They could be boys, girls, thin, fat, pretty, ugly. It was, I think, driven by intelligence. He was attracted to intelligence more than anything and to pain. He was very attracted to people who silently bore some sort of inner pain as he did and he loved
people who were one-of-a-kind, people who had a unique vision of things."
I wish i wrote that, but i didn't. my only claim to fame is posting it. she wrote it in the book "Widow Basquiat" to describe Jean-Michel Basquiat, a notorious nyc artist circa 1980/90. i want his life - fast, furious, tragic.
him, cobain, doherty, eldon. are they just flashes in the pan? maybe, but you'll never know. they die to fast. (i think its because theirs souls were too full. they subsequently burst as a result). but in their brilliant moments, they stood there like proverbial dancers in a forever-priouette. better a moment's perfection than an eternal muddle, ya ken?
"he dances like one, at least" said her fagfriend. but truth is i love girls (boobies!) too much but i think what jennifer clement says hits closest to home.
"It was clear that his sexual interest was not monochromatic. It did not rely on visual stimulation, such as a pretty girl. It was a very rich multi-chromatic sexuality. He was attracted to people for all
different reasons. They could be boys, girls, thin, fat, pretty, ugly. It was, I think, driven by intelligence. He was attracted to intelligence more than anything and to pain. He was very attracted to people who silently bore some sort of inner pain as he did and he loved
people who were one-of-a-kind, people who had a unique vision of things."
I wish i wrote that, but i didn't. my only claim to fame is posting it. she wrote it in the book "Widow Basquiat" to describe Jean-Michel Basquiat, a notorious nyc artist circa 1980/90. i want his life - fast, furious, tragic.
him, cobain, doherty, eldon. are they just flashes in the pan? maybe, but you'll never know. they die to fast. (i think its because theirs souls were too full. they subsequently burst as a result). but in their brilliant moments, they stood there like proverbial dancers in a forever-priouette. better a moment's perfection than an eternal muddle, ya ken?
2006-03-15
2006-03-08
I walked home from class tonight- it was a nice enough night, with a slight breeze and a half-moon.
"blog about it!" said chek.
so here's some of it- the cheerier bits at least, because who wants to be sad these days? lets not glamorize depression. its only attractive to everyone but the one affected.
-
has a belly button ever come undone? honestly i wonder. maybe the doctor failed his knot-tying badge. would your insides spill out? i'd imagine the bandit umblical cord would like the untied end of a water balloon, flailing about in uncontrollable chaos as your inside-juices spew out. and you'd start to shrivel like a prune, starting with your abdominal area, and ending with the flesh of your cheeks, reducing you to skeleton, like skeletor from out of He-Man, only sans the muscles.
oh how gory.
-
i suppose the nature of addiction lies in the quirk of memory. take pain for example- one can remember pain hurts, but is at a loss when asked to remember the specific sensation of it. simply, sensations are "hard to remember but impossible to forget", which is probably why addicts constantly seek a fix. they can't forget its pleasures but can't remember it either.
which is kind of what Placebo is like. their tuneless melodies vacate my head as soon as their song ends but i distinctly remember i loved what i heard which is why i Allergic (To Thoughts of Mother Earth) played on a constant loop on my walk home.
-
tada.
"blog about it!" said chek.
so here's some of it- the cheerier bits at least, because who wants to be sad these days? lets not glamorize depression. its only attractive to everyone but the one affected.
-
has a belly button ever come undone? honestly i wonder. maybe the doctor failed his knot-tying badge. would your insides spill out? i'd imagine the bandit umblical cord would like the untied end of a water balloon, flailing about in uncontrollable chaos as your inside-juices spew out. and you'd start to shrivel like a prune, starting with your abdominal area, and ending with the flesh of your cheeks, reducing you to skeleton, like skeletor from out of He-Man, only sans the muscles.
oh how gory.
-
i suppose the nature of addiction lies in the quirk of memory. take pain for example- one can remember pain hurts, but is at a loss when asked to remember the specific sensation of it. simply, sensations are "hard to remember but impossible to forget", which is probably why addicts constantly seek a fix. they can't forget its pleasures but can't remember it either.
which is kind of what Placebo is like. their tuneless melodies vacate my head as soon as their song ends but i distinctly remember i loved what i heard which is why i Allergic (To Thoughts of Mother Earth) played on a constant loop on my walk home.
-
tada.
2006-03-04
its like being on the outside looking in, or perhaps its actually the inside looking out.
maybe its how a goldfish feels in a bowling-ball shaped tank. or perhaps a voeyuer peeking into a house. but they're all not part of.
does anyone know what love is. its probably at its best when unrequited, salvaging it from the messy reins of reality. maybe thats why its the noblest emotion of all, tho i daren't say i speak from experience. it must hurt knowing that its so perfect because it could or might exist, like a spectre in the corner of one's eye. but if you try to look at it, it'll disappear.
*poof*
maybe its how a goldfish feels in a bowling-ball shaped tank. or perhaps a voeyuer peeking into a house. but they're all not part of.
does anyone know what love is. its probably at its best when unrequited, salvaging it from the messy reins of reality. maybe thats why its the noblest emotion of all, tho i daren't say i speak from experience. it must hurt knowing that its so perfect because it could or might exist, like a spectre in the corner of one's eye. but if you try to look at it, it'll disappear.
*poof*
2006-03-03
2006-02-08
what do you hate?
how about, when something bad happens, some well-meaning soul says "Don't worry. All things happen for a reason". chances the utterer of that cursed phrase is christian, or incredibly naive, to take such a fatalistic stance. after all, "fate is the path of least resistence," said the protagonist in matchpoint. aye to that.
tomorrow, i start my job at video-ezy. but today, an email came. "Hi Lennard, we regret to inform you that..." and i think you know how it ends. Damn. Retrenched before i could even start. But, all of a sudden, i get calls here and there. links of links from the past. a friend of a friend of a friend, and tomorrow i'll be assisting in some event (a Canon event no less! contacts galore!) from 10 to 10 for $150. come friday, i've got a 4 hour photography assignment for $200. and both openings from difference sources.
consider then- might things actually happen for a reason? bollocks to that. remember, "fate is the path of least resistence", and "i'd rather be lucky than good", both of which are from Woody Allen's Matchpoint.
Matchpoint, btw, is a really good movie. I love movies. I just usually hate their endings - so many movies lift me up only to let me down in the last quarter. (Great Expectations anyone? with the pseudo-red herring benefactor. pshaw!) But this movie ended how i wanted it to end. *warning: spoilers ahead* referencing my previous post, chris (the shows protagonist) is the ideal devolution from the anti-hero - utterly unlikable, but wholely sympathetic. you want him to get away with his crime. the scene with him in the police station reminded me of the Tell-Tale Heart. one can feel him haunted by this sin, but unlike the tell-tale heart, he does not confess. and i felt a sinful joy that he didn't. getting caught would be too much of a sweet redemption for the wholely unwholesome Chris. better he live his life out in his own private hell. --nervous --very, very dreadfully nervous and guilty he was, is and will forever be.
the definite contemporary noir film if ever there was one, its a movie that's smarter than its audience. longer post about it to come if i can, if not, http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060105/REVIEWS/60103004/1023
Ebert can do no wrong. (except with his review of 3000 Miles to Graceland)
how about, when something bad happens, some well-meaning soul says "Don't worry. All things happen for a reason". chances the utterer of that cursed phrase is christian, or incredibly naive, to take such a fatalistic stance. after all, "fate is the path of least resistence," said the protagonist in matchpoint. aye to that.
tomorrow, i start my job at video-ezy. but today, an email came. "Hi Lennard, we regret to inform you that..." and i think you know how it ends. Damn. Retrenched before i could even start. But, all of a sudden, i get calls here and there. links of links from the past. a friend of a friend of a friend, and tomorrow i'll be assisting in some event (a Canon event no less! contacts galore!) from 10 to 10 for $150. come friday, i've got a 4 hour photography assignment for $200. and both openings from difference sources.
consider then- might things actually happen for a reason? bollocks to that. remember, "fate is the path of least resistence", and "i'd rather be lucky than good", both of which are from Woody Allen's Matchpoint.
Matchpoint, btw, is a really good movie. I love movies. I just usually hate their endings - so many movies lift me up only to let me down in the last quarter. (Great Expectations anyone? with the pseudo-red herring benefactor. pshaw!) But this movie ended how i wanted it to end. *warning: spoilers ahead* referencing my previous post, chris (the shows protagonist) is the ideal devolution from the anti-hero - utterly unlikable, but wholely sympathetic. you want him to get away with his crime. the scene with him in the police station reminded me of the Tell-Tale Heart. one can feel him haunted by this sin, but unlike the tell-tale heart, he does not confess. and i felt a sinful joy that he didn't. getting caught would be too much of a sweet redemption for the wholely unwholesome Chris. better he live his life out in his own private hell. --nervous --very, very dreadfully nervous and guilty he was, is and will forever be.
the definite contemporary noir film if ever there was one, its a movie that's smarter than its audience. longer post about it to come if i can, if not, http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060105/REVIEWS/60103004/1023
Ebert can do no wrong. (except with his review of 3000 Miles to Graceland)
2006-02-02
which fantasy do you want to live out?
do you want to be tyler durden in fight club and pee into the clam chowder and rant lyrical about how "We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. "
, or be randal graves in clerks and say things like ""Empire" had the better ending. I mean, Luke gets his hand cut off, finds out Vader's his father, Han gets frozen and taken away by Boba Fett. It ends on such a down note. I mean, that's what life is, a series of down endings. All "Jedi" had was a bunch of Muppets." (btw, he's right, though i think above and beyond them Star Wars : A New Hope stands as the best, much in the same way The Matrix was so much better than the 2 that followed. it is neat and self-contained.)
its opposites of the cool spectrum. one is cool and the other so uncool he's cool too. knowing me i'm probably the latter guy, only that i'm not uncool enough to be cool so i just fall flat being straight uncool.
the reason i ask this is because i wondered whether i would rather work as a waiter or a video-rental jockey. tomorrow's my interview with Video-EZY. Wish me luck. if i mess this up i think it means i'm pretty messed up.
do you want to be tyler durden in fight club and pee into the clam chowder and rant lyrical about how "We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. "
, or be randal graves in clerks and say things like ""Empire" had the better ending. I mean, Luke gets his hand cut off, finds out Vader's his father, Han gets frozen and taken away by Boba Fett. It ends on such a down note. I mean, that's what life is, a series of down endings. All "Jedi" had was a bunch of Muppets." (btw, he's right, though i think above and beyond them Star Wars : A New Hope stands as the best, much in the same way The Matrix was so much better than the 2 that followed. it is neat and self-contained.)
its opposites of the cool spectrum. one is cool and the other so uncool he's cool too. knowing me i'm probably the latter guy, only that i'm not uncool enough to be cool so i just fall flat being straight uncool.
the reason i ask this is because i wondered whether i would rather work as a waiter or a video-rental jockey. tomorrow's my interview with Video-EZY. Wish me luck. if i mess this up i think it means i'm pretty messed up.
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