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We weren't born with a name, we were given a name. A hedgehog doesn't have a name. It's just a nameless thing with a handful of flesh and skin and a beating heart. A hedgehog doesn't even know it doesn't have a name.
 
 
   
 
Friday, August 27, 2004
 
you've always got so much on the back of your mind, it's like trying to pick one one specific kind of spore that's floating in the breeze on a windy spring's day...... like looking for a needle in a haystack...... like trying to pinpoint where the istana is on the atlas...... like trying to look for peace amidst a crowded cafeteria...........
and so you find you let these thoughts go, and it's easier to exist in a plane where troubles come and go easy, and nothing bad ever stays....... where everything works out to your favour in the end, and nothing terribly horrible ever happens to you....... it's like the imperfect fairytale with no twists...........
and so you trundle along, with your mind furrows buried, and your meandering life peaceful..... wondering if life is ever gonna turn upside down, or get horribly wrong...... seeking to get away from the undulating plain it is, yet fearing to step beyond into the unknown canyon of heights and splendours............

zen, maybe?
it's so easy to want to distance yourself from the people around you, where you cease to care, and it seems like the people around you cease to care to....... where nothingness fills the space, and you're left wandering amidst the confounded mist.........
sometimes we just need a break.... for no reason whatsoever, just to get to know ourselves more, to get reacquainted with ourselves, to review our goals and ideals...... to critique our past actions, and judge ourselves......

for no reason why,
i can't cry hard enough
no i can't cry hard enough
for you to hear me now

she wants something, yet she doesn't have the guts to find out if it's what she really wants, and she puts on a front and acts all aloof and distant, and pushes away the very thing which she craves for....... she succeeds, in driving it away........ and she laments, wishing and hoping with each turn that it'll come back to her, yet meeting with letdown every single time....... she's never gotten a clear cut answer, and she never will......... simply because she was afraid.......
what a fool

verfremdung effekt
to create a rift between the writer and the subject.......... to stand back from the action and look on and learn from the didactic method of presenting a topic to the audience and making them think and reflect upon it....... by alienating the audience, and making them aware they are watching a presentation, not a performance, and confronting them with the issues brought up..... how brechtian......... but will she learn from watching herself?

so easy, so
so
easy

fool


 

 
   
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