entries
profile
extras
Recently I was reading another one of those death / dying books that every established author seems intent on writing. (It's almost as if the world ain't depressing enough) I know I shouldn't cos they make me cry at night and I really don't want to, cos then you get puffy eyes the next morning which looks disgusting on people with non-big eyes (not bren not tanneh not jiayi not gen) i.e. my eyes.
But anyway rene thinks I should stop this morbid fascination with the dying. Apparently it's emotionally unhealthy. Yeah well. The fascinating thing isn't the physical deterioration and the insane load of depressing misery i.e. old people sadness. It's more to do with the description of emptiness, of abstract nothingness, words describing absolutely nothing. It makes me depressed not cos people die, but because they die helplessly, fighting something so certain.
In church; the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. And we hear the call.
There are monsters in my closet.
Vernus bugs me for dance pictures- sorry will sort them out soon..
-
You see things; and you say "Why?"
But I dream things that never were; and I say "Why not?"
-George Bernard Shaw
___________________________________________
