The advertisement of a man - the cleverer you become the greater your capacity for (self )deception
---
the ability of writing to edit and add to your inventions, affording faux attractiveness to incorrect thinking, such that by the end it takes extra effort to discern what is false
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winning an argument doesn't make you right, it just means you had a less able/interested opponent. United States I'm lookin 'atchu / majority rule / the stupidity of crowds / median voter is always right
Monday, June 24, 2013
the advertisement of a man
writing is a means to an end, a means of finding truth. it is not a truth in and of itself.
---
stories with nothing to prove
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time is a way of measuring how quickly you die
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i want girlfriend
i want tokyo
---
can't tell if my poems are bad or if the part of my spirit responsible for distinguishing good poetry is just dead. also not sure which i'd prefer
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why do we feel so sorry for each other
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does a dutiful son hide his desolation or share it with his despondent mother
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did you wash your hands? that goes into our mouths, you know
yeah, my hands are clean
are you sure?
yeah, my hands are clean
---
i am a hipster; it is in my nature to filter everything
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friends who make you use your brain
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the internet has become an extension of my mind, fact/spell-checking and remembering things for me. I feel mildly unsettled by this but won't be sure until it is confirmed by likes and favs on fb and twitter
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spelling fav as fave because you are such a rebel
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i enjoy films more when i'm with you. not the watching but the actual appreciation of the film itself. i find more value than i ordinarily would. you point out things I don't see. this is a rare thing. my mind works differently
---
tell them who or what touched you, not how to feel
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how do i back up my thoughts
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tainted thinking - i keep expecting to be rewarded for every little thing i do - instant affirmation - need to unhook, unplug myself from this Feedback machine
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the largest of changes spring from the smallest of chances, mustard seed
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everyone secretly carrying 'if I die' notes hidden in their breast pockets that lead to hidden prewritten farewell letters to best friends and mothers
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people too busy trying to be loved to be evil
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anxiety and creativity - kierkegaard: can i hear everything or am i just hearing things
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Fitzgerald's writing - words that travel faster than their sound, ideas that travel faster than thought. heavily dependent on speed of connection - each modality
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love is a song with words, the more you say it the less it means. Love must be written it can't be recited. love is always writing and being rewritten
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how not to be
---
stories with nothing to prove
---
time is a way of measuring how quickly you die
---
i want girlfriend
i want tokyo
---
can't tell if my poems are bad or if the part of my spirit responsible for distinguishing good poetry is just dead. also not sure which i'd prefer
---
why do we feel so sorry for each other
---
does a dutiful son hide his desolation or share it with his despondent mother
---
did you wash your hands? that goes into our mouths, you know
yeah, my hands are clean
are you sure?
yeah, my hands are clean
---
i am a hipster; it is in my nature to filter everything
---
friends who make you use your brain
---
the internet has become an extension of my mind, fact/spell-checking and remembering things for me. I feel mildly unsettled by this but won't be sure until it is confirmed by likes and favs on fb and twitter
---
spelling fav as fave because you are such a rebel
---
i enjoy films more when i'm with you. not the watching but the actual appreciation of the film itself. i find more value than i ordinarily would. you point out things I don't see. this is a rare thing. my mind works differently
---
tell them who or what touched you, not how to feel
---
how do i back up my thoughts
---
tainted thinking - i keep expecting to be rewarded for every little thing i do - instant affirmation - need to unhook, unplug myself from this Feedback machine
---
the largest of changes spring from the smallest of chances, mustard seed
---
everyone secretly carrying 'if I die' notes hidden in their breast pockets that lead to hidden prewritten farewell letters to best friends and mothers
---
people too busy trying to be loved to be evil
---
anxiety and creativity - kierkegaard: can i hear everything or am i just hearing things
---
Fitzgerald's writing - words that travel faster than their sound, ideas that travel faster than thought. heavily dependent on speed of connection - each modality
---
love is a song with words, the more you say it the less it means. Love must be written it can't be recited. love is always writing and being rewritten
---
how not to be
infinite appeal
inadvertent evil
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how to be lovable
---
a labcoat is like a scientist's yukata
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don't you ever wonder what the mirror neglects to mention? Singapore streets, metropolitan, so many young people out at once, strutting down orchard road, changi is classy, impressive, knows how to dress, neon and glitter, city i'd like to date, but not necessarily settle down with. the illusion is ruined overhear some conversation. don't singaporeans ever tire of their own accent? it bothers me a lot, not being able to tell how much other people know. used to think my driver was psychic. Machines that can hide their intelligence
---
and then, convinced of having ruined my life entirely, I languished on the couch for a while and fell into a deep sleep
---
i want rain
i want peace
---
maybe I will try to be humble from now on
Pride is something you never notice until you are halfway down its throat
---
pacing the aisles of 100yen shops/bookstores in search of something that can't be bought
---
no one can relate to my stories
not even me
---
who'd walk in this bleak place
---
you are so gay; I am so grave. spare me some sun; save me from gray
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I am the most dis/honest person I know
---
planning a party I don't want to have
---
it is her delight to fill my life with meaningless tasks
---
I want drive
sudden urge to steal a car
you let applause determine the value of your thoughts
---
undiagnosed sons of bipolar mothers
---
how long are you planning to just sit here
until I feel malaysian again
---
how to be lovable
---
a labcoat is like a scientist's yukata
---
don't you ever wonder what the mirror neglects to mention? Singapore streets, metropolitan, so many young people out at once, strutting down orchard road, changi is classy, impressive, knows how to dress, neon and glitter, city i'd like to date, but not necessarily settle down with. the illusion is ruined overhear some conversation. don't singaporeans ever tire of their own accent? it bothers me a lot, not being able to tell how much other people know. used to think my driver was psychic. Machines that can hide their intelligence
---
and then, convinced of having ruined my life entirely, I languished on the couch for a while and fell into a deep sleep
---
i want rain
i want peace
---
maybe I will try to be humble from now on
Pride is something you never notice until you are halfway down its throat
---
pacing the aisles of 100yen shops/bookstores in search of something that can't be bought
---
no one can relate to my stories
not even me
---
who'd walk in this bleak place
---
you are so gay; I am so grave. spare me some sun; save me from gray
---
I am the most dis/honest person I know
---
planning a party I don't want to have
---
it is her delight to fill my life with meaningless tasks
---
I want drive
sudden urge to steal a car
you let applause determine the value of your thoughts
---
undiagnosed sons of bipolar mothers
---
how long are you planning to just sit here
until I feel malaysian again
自然美
men and women's bodies are fundamentally different. women's private parts by default are such objects of desire while nobody wants to have to stare at a man's schlong. it's an undeniable, ineluctable, intrinsic, empirical, architectural, geometrical, universal truth. why is a truth a truth, what makes it a truth. not consensus. it remains a truth even if no one believes it. women's breasts will still be beautiful with no one to stare at them.
---
more inflamed than a firework on the fourth of july
---
more inflamed than a firework on the fourth of july
the american
but actually there's no real reason for his obsession with butterflies, just as no reason his boss trying to kill him but some things no need to be explained such as pinkerton's absence, a million and one reasons can be invented, it's just that the unlikely things demand more explanation. but what matters truly is that pinkerton is gone and that the boss is trying to kill him. difference between judging the stories in movies as tiny manufactured realities - as product - and immersing yourself, allowing yourself to stop analyzing, stop looking from outside and participate in its myriad contingent possibilities/truth
Saturday, June 22, 2013
ザグレートギャツビー
when you have too much money, everything becomes a toy
---
what started out as a demonstration of the value and unspoken innovation behind adding small, superfluous features to commercial products to increase their attractiveness and appeal, when interpreted as an allegory for modern consumerism - i.e. eating not out of physical hunger but to appease some phantom craving - becomes somewhat poignant and sobering in how closely and precisely it mirrors the parody of our lives.
---
when he mentions the hostess metaphor the muscles of my mouth tighten into a grimace - 'pal you don't know how right you are'
---
what started out as a demonstration of the value and unspoken innovation behind adding small, superfluous features to commercial products to increase their attractiveness and appeal, when interpreted as an allegory for modern consumerism - i.e. eating not out of physical hunger but to appease some phantom craving - becomes somewhat poignant and sobering in how closely and precisely it mirrors the parody of our lives.
---
when he mentions the hostess metaphor the muscles of my mouth tighten into a grimace - 'pal you don't know how right you are'
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
i want to show you things [i want to weep]
i can't convince myself of anything anymore
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got used to goodness; keep chasing peace away
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all this writing is getting me down
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got used to goodness; keep chasing peace away
---
all this writing is getting me down
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
renaissance girl
they discovered elegance in 1991
it began with your nose (or was it
your tongue) and went on from there,
drawn down the long prospekt of your arms,
bypassing soft hills where the sun was/is born,
it forms a tangent with the brim of your
hips and reminds me of los angeles,
that place. a constellation of wishes
steeped in neon and cliche.
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The advertisement of a man - the cleverer you become the greater your capacity for (self )deception --- the ability of writing to edit a...
