You knew that Little Red Riding Hood simply wanted to get rid of her mother, so that she could sleep with the Big Bad Wolf, and the ferocious hunter, didn't you?

You knew that Little Red Riding Hood's instinctual drive was to be possessed by the wolf, who would make her a full female - and that because she was a child, this urge was translated into a desire to be devoured by the wolf ... didnt you?

Perhaps you knew that Red Riding Hood was a warning by sexually repressed and repressive males in France, that females should beware the sexually predatory male wolf. And that this interpretation still weaves itself through the American psyche in the twentieth century...

Red Riding Hood rises from the pages of the book, like a flower unfurling, not yet sure of what awaits her. She has a heavy, fur-lined hood, covering her eyes so she cannot see what the future holds. She is awakening in the land of dreams, looking to become a full woman.

Possessed by the wolf with feet of human...

Looking at him but not seen to look, ashamed of her own humanity

She is female, and she is innocence, but her red cap links her to hell, where the devilish wolf resides in the air. She is destined for possession.

She has fallen from grace. The flowers that she once resembled; breathed as, lived as, now shy from her. Her fingers cannot stretch wide enough to catch them. She is grounded now, stuck on the Earth and in Purgatory, yet surrounded by the dream-land. The red foreboding sky always told her of what was inside her.

It took a staring human beast to bring it out...

-domen lombergar-

------------------------------------------

some food for thought from a thought-provoking website.

nothing much going on lately, besides being
tired from giving out newspapers in the mornings,
brain-wrecked from thinking of mechanisms for R A G,
infuriated with my lack of stamina and competency during kendo,
frustrated with my less-than-satisfactory results
ambivalent with my choices and decisions,
disappointed with the sudden onset of artist's block

last kendo practice really gave me a timely wake up call.
halfway through the practice i had a urge to give a crazy mad bellow
it was almost as if i felt like i was on the verge of tipping towards insanity.

then i went for rag, which was slightly frustrating, because its depressing to think that all the training i've done for sets doesnt seem to have equipped myself with the neccessary skills to think of mechanisms. its depressing to be outdone by a freshie, who then ....well...sigh the feeling is mutual i guess. i understand at this point of time the outcome is entirely more important than the process, but i cant help feeling like a loser myself. its not you, its not them, its me.

what vijay said summarized everything:
some of you who have never done sets can think of mechanisms, while
some of you who have done sets still cannot think of mechanisms

then again, something huiro said during supper kind of pacified me;
me : its sad that i cant think of stuff like this despite having gone through sets
huiro : ? but sets is like this what *puts hands in non moving action*
dont have mechanisms lei. haha
me : .... *look of revelation*
huiro : its not like the garuda's tail moves or the naga's mouth can open mah, all
not moving eh.
me: yeah... hmnmmmm


well. never mind that.





i waiting for the day that a sudden stroke of brillance will hit me and i will hold on to it forever.

things have been breezing past me, everyone moving on, while i've been moving along, slowly, though rather steadily, sometimes wondering what the hell is happening...

an update on the not-so-significant happenings...
my father is officially a straight A masters student. he just got back his report card for this semester, which also happens to be his last. He's dreading returning to school to teach and do all the sai kang and shit like im dreading finding/not-finding a job [its a goodnews/badnews situation rolled up into one]
i reckon he's secretly rather miffed by the 2 A minuses on this sem's card despite the other 2 A pluses. thats cause A is max 5.0 already, so A+ is still 5.0 while 4.5 so it means he doesnt have a perfect score anymore, HAHAHA *evil laughter echoes*

its so hard to live up to being his daughter.
im not even a weak specimen of an imitation. chip off the ol' block. whatever.

other more exciting things,
omedeto, to a really ol' man i know, dear lao da, congratulations on getting off the shelf, AHAHHAHA =D you're no longer left on the shelf haha =)



i'm thinking about somethings.
like how extra time changes people. and holidays too.

like really a lot...


this is will be my last official weekend in total la dolce fa niete...
feeling like there's not enough of this yasashii jikan...sigh.

--------------------------

the tourney's been delayed.
im half relieved, because it seems im not prepared, both physically and mentally.

nothing beats the feeling of adrenaline pumping in my veins...
the rush of blood to my head, my muscles contracting, my aveoli [pardon me if that's spelt incorrectly] facilitating the exchange of 02 into my lungs...

dancing is so good, it almost beats drawing.
the best thing is when nobody is around, when you move, for yourself, on yourself; the music pulsating through your veins, the melody throbbing in your ears...
dancing is the best and only perk of clubbing, i should think.
drinks only facilitate the dancing. and of course i do find it amusing to see the occasional looks of surprise and recognition when you start to dance.

never mind that looks arent the actual deal.
dancing should always be a self-satisfying activity.
i perform, only for myself.

but nothing beats drawing of course.
its the most self-gratifying, satisfying, egocentric, indulgent activity ever to come into human existence...


i always believe there is a space, a space for art, for creativity, that should never be surrendered to anyone, any parent, peer, teacher, whatever, under whatever circumstances, because this is something private that should belong to yourself, and this should never be killed...

which is why sometimes i find i am reluctant to correct the children at hans art sometimes when they are drawing... or painting... in art, everything is what you believe it is.

went to amk this week because they were short. met iris [who is such a cute person,=)] and 'uncle' mike. it's funny how the children call him uncle since he looks not a day older than me... well. its really amusing that nakai teaches him as well... im missing nakai. his semi-otaku-ish face and deadpan-nazel-droning-on-and-on voice during class and his secret amused giggles to himself when the class makes absurd jokes and mistakes. qiuping must be having a good time.. sigh...


met not-so-lousy senpai last last practice after quite sometime.
[ok i know that sentence doesnt cut it as grammatically coherent but im too lazy to bother its exactly what you think it is] she looks good, and congrats to managing to sell off your bogu at cost price to jiawei, haha, though i must say its great that is a snug fit...




i'm wondering what to do now. hmmm.

yeah, i know its nothing, and it probably is.

but why do i still have this weird feeling?

i mean, its nothing, but then why...?

frmph.


this reminds me of something i heard before.

when a guy is silent, it means he's listening to you.
when a girl is silent, it means there are a thousand thoughts running through her head.

girls only ever think too much, too often, unnecessarily.
this is a negative stereotype?
but i am no different...


what now?
seriously... i think i ll have to watch things as the go...
i hate thinking on my feet.
------------------------------------

rag is starting next week and i feel like i ve wasted the holidays thus far.
well, not really, *looks at portfolio*
i know i wont regret it, but im kind of dreading the start of rag...
im sure i ll get hell bent and totally thrown into the intensity of the thing, slog like hell and be willing and happy about it, but for now, laziness has long kicked in...

and its absurd but im still contemplating what kind of mindset i should adopt for the tourney this sunday... sigh...

and the stupid flu is still there. im still coughing phlegm and desperately sucking the mucus back into my nostrils during kirikaeshi and kihon pract with the hefty men on... and to think last practice we had air con... i hope thursday wont be the same... sigh...
its kind of a goodnews/badnews situation, except they're all rolled up into one...

-----------------------------------------------------
meanwhile i am semi-actively trying to engage myself in constructive activities [borrowing graphic design magazines, doing my japanese lang worksheets, revising previous chapters, reading the papers, blah blah] and not-so-constructive activities [couch-potato-ing in front of my new best friend, the telly, clearing japanese dramas on impulse, bumming around]
while i am semi-half desperately trying to find a job and a second income to supplement my notsoextravagant lifestyle and semi-inexistent income...

wait,
i DON'T have income.

im subsisting on allowance [which i really don't want to i managed to evade it last week but last week was hell without allowance i could eat bread for every meal and still not be able to put any in my savings] and the measely pay i get every saturday making sure that cute kids dont get quirky and abusive and violent and start killing each other with paint brushes or pencils or whatever

but the job is worth the work i suppose... on a long-term basis.



but still.

i know its illogical and crazy,
but im still waiting for the day that cash will fall from the sky
or that suddenly i get picked up by a normal-looking, smart, rich man who would make me a housewife so i can iron clothes and watch the telly all day

of which i think the possibility of the former is higher, obviously.


sigh.

say hello to my music blog.

http://musicrulesmysoul.blogspot.com/


heh heh.


boredom drives people to various differing forms of pursuits. bizarre, flambuoyant, silly, crazy, cranky, mundane
its time i got started.

i look at the mole and he seems to be reminding me of something i've forgotten.
its like quite and not bothering anyone, keeping to itself,
but despite how docile it seems,

i keep having the feeling that its saying,
hey, look here, you forgot something...




weird or whatever.
i guess im probably the only person in the world who passes her time imagining the personification of her mole.
*sigh*
---------------------------------------------------
and that reminds me.
the graphic design book that i've been eyeing costs 25 euro.
i dont even bother to count...
sigh...

speaking of which, today is may2nd, which means
happy birthday to ol' mom and deadpan-cynical-always-slap-me-on-the-left-thigh lemming.
i think i must be getting old,
because i stood outside the cake shop desperately trying to remember and count the total number of candles needed for their cake, while the shop assistant repeated to me, in a rather annoyed voice,

'how many candles you want?'

'er, wait wait, im counting...
erm, ok ok i think i want 6 big ones and 8 small ones..'

shop assistant *tries to hide giggle* : 'wah, 68 ah...'

'erm, er, no, its two people's birthdays...'
---------------------------------------------------------

its funny, but drawing 24/7 isnt as fulfilling and fun-packed as i envisioned it to be... sometimes its just tiring, sometimes its just crap, sometimes it just frustration... but as with kendo, and all other things i put off due to indetermination, procrastination, doing it always makes me feel better, almost immediately.


i've always had trouble drawing myself;
i keep telling myself that its because i don't know myself well;
and that seemed to suffice, at least some time ago, because those i know really well, good and rotten, i can draw with reasonable amount of resemblance...

but somehow, lately answers like these seem to be excuses...
is it that i am unable to draw myself?
or is it that i am unsatisfied with the way my drawings portray myself?
or is it because

im unhappy with myself?


its the uncomfortable feeling of being at odds with yourself,
frowning when you look at the image in the mirror when you wake up [though i really think that bed hair is sexy, its just really, really hot]
feeling pangs of insecurity when you see your reflection off the glass panel when you're walking randomly in some packed shopping mall,
feeling like you're under the scrutiny of all and saunder when you wear something new

i know these dont exist
i mean, by right, logically speaking, they shouldnt
there isnt any reason for them to; im just imagining an imaginary audience
[but then, no reason legitimizing their existence isnt a good enough reason for their non-existence, this i've always strongly believed]

but if anything
my worst critic is always myself.


you can be amazed at how shockingly-low my self-esteem can get.
as low as the emotional-suicidal-lows on the circardian emotion cycles that bipolar patients experience on a regular basis, if not with the help of therapy and medication... well i suppose i should be glad that unlike them, i don't experience mania on a regular basis...



alas, in the end, all i really was, really am doing-

acting in front of my imaginary audience,
living my personal fable.

-----------------------------

in case you wonder if and why there are unexplained spaces in between my sentences and words,
they mean that im thinking.