Empty Days

Saturday, March 05, 2005



Do what thou willt.

This seems the only rule worth following.

Today I woke up depressed as usual despite extremely sunny spring-like weather. And then I stayed depressed for a few hours, thinking how i am such a good-for-nothing terminal loser, can't do this can't do that - and then I had it and decided to go out biking in the downtown to see how it would feel to work as a bike messenger.

Well, of course it was a perfect day - so it's not representative of the rest of the time when weather is bad and awful. But today I enjoyed biking out there so much I practically felt like a messenger already. Case in point: I was nodded to as if I were one (which is understandable - no one is biking for pleasure in early march in downtown during work hours - the only cyclists out there are couriers). So basically I just practiced navigating in traffic, control/reaction, going to various reclusive corners of downtown, up and down some hills, finding out how steep I can handle it (surprisingly i was inspired enough to climb a few really abrupt ones, but I could not possibly do this all day long, only once or twice at best). Also I got pretty dirty from all the thawing snow with salt - my boots got all soaked and white, and my jacket and jeans got splashed with the same saltish muck, so basically I looked like I've been working in some clay quarry. Which is to say that being dirty is the natural state for a courier in winter. Another notable effect was this: biking in the cold air for some time and then entering a warm shopping-center - it made me dizzy and I felt like taking a nap right then and there - it was difficult to resume biking again in the cold after this thawing-out inside a warm area. I guess a courier has to get used to these abrupt changes in temperature as well :-0

Wednesday, March 02, 2005



A kingdom for a smoke...

I am dying for a smoke but since I quit smoking I can die all I want, there is no tobacco in the house. So I eat. I've been eating all day long and since I don't know what to do with myself I eat to fill the void too - normally that void would be occupied with me chain-smoking.

I am not afraid of growing fat though - I just need to find something to do, to get busy with. That idea about being a bike-courier seemed like the way to go - until it snowed and winded and generally screwed my mood. Plus I really can't breath these days. Pipe-dreams, that's what it is.

Why is it that things that enflame my imagination invariably seem either too much of a good thing or too far-fetched for my means? It's exasperating after all.




Life-clock - random.

Yesterday I bought a 3lb can of margarine. It will last me a long time because I use margarine only rarely. In a way it would be a good idea to set this can of marge as the time that I have left to live - and once the can is empty I will take steps to erase myself from life.

It sounds silly? Arbitrary? Improbable?

We'll see then.




Going thru random-blogs.

Everywhere people are struggling inside their shells, trying to make out a meaning to their lives. In the end there is nothing better to do than espouse some value-set activity and just stick with it - going to the gym, making pies, finding jobs, looking for mates... It's all pre-arranged as far as value is concerned - so you just have to stick with it and some of that value will rub on you, eventually. The problem is sticking with it - since the whole damn' business is meaningless anyway.

This world is a place of unending misery for some - and there is no changing that - but you can stick around long enough to find it to be so conclusively - haha.




Fortune-telling by book.

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog.

*

"The conditions of the sentence had been here, he imagined, fulfilled in the method of collocation of these stones--in the order of their arrangement, as well as in that of the many fungi which overspread them, and of the decayed trees which stood around--above all, in the long undisturbed endurance of this arrangement, and in its reduplication in the still waters of the tarn.
Its evidence--the evidence of the sentience--was to be seen, he said, (and I here started as he spoke,) in the gradual yet certain condensation of the atmosphere of their own about the waters and the walls.
The result was discoverable, he added, in that silent, yet importunate and terrible influence which for centuries had moulded the destinies of his family, and which made him what I now saw him--what he was.

Such opinions need no comment, and I will make none."

E.A.Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher.





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