Fuck. Stanley Kubrick, your words echo my inner thought.
powerdrain asked: Which comic book character would you say best describe you as a whole (male and female)?
Hmm, that’s a tough nugget. I’d have to go with Psylocke and Iceman.
Psylocke because I’m always unsure of who I am. Things in my life always unravel what I was previously so sure about, and tear down notions about myself that I thought would never alter. Luckily I’ve never been manipulated, or killed.. twice… However the fact that she’s constantly attempting to find an identity and come to some sort of peace is something I resonate with deeply.
With Iceman, it’s the fact that I never feel as if I’ve reached my potential. Especially with art. All my life, people have told me I have exponential natural ability, but the problem is I’m a little lazy, and like to stay in the comfort zone sometimes. Also because I’m the snarker of whatever group I’m in, it leads people to perhaps take me less seriously and lower their expectations of my depth.
Hope you don’t mind if I publish this, because it was a fascinating thing to be asked :)
This gem comes from my days of watching and rewatching recorded episodes of The Simpsons. I wanted to know the words to the wondrous song “Everybody Hates Ned Flanders”, so naturally I paused and rewound the tape many times in order to make a transcript of the lyrics.
As you can see, in my retarded ways I got some of the words wrong and more importantly managed to misspell some in the most blindingly brilliant ways, with hilarious results. I must have been… eight? Give or take.
This is phenomenal definitely worth a watch.
Music is lifeblood folks.
If this doesn’t melt your heart into a gooey paste, I’m not too sure what will. Music, Art and the Written Word are the Holy Trinity of life, and this video really does show you just how fundamental music is. It’s just… I don’t know. I really don’t. It’s the purest kind of beauty.
I mean, fuck. A man who is usually mute is able to sing. Simply due to listening to an iPod for a while.
My outlook on willingness regarding relationships has completely turned upon itself within the past month or so.
I used to have this notion that I wanted to become the best possible being I could potentially be before I entered anything serious. I wanted to grow as my own person without having dependence on another or vice versa. Recently though it’s struck me… Why?
I know for a good for nothing fact that a time where I am wholly satisfied with myself ceases to exist. I will forever thirst for knowledge, yearn for cultural expansion and will never stop the enduring, ravaging battle of physical improvement. Why shut off such a potentially wonderful thing as partnership with as pathetic an excuse as “I want to fulfil my own needs before I let another in.” Why not open the possibility of a person who I can connect with at this tangible and philosophical and emotional level? Surely that prospect opens up a whole range of fantastic and interesting doors for the broadening of my own development as a person?
It really is queer how a personal philosophy that I have cherished and abided by like some ritualistic dogma for years has all of a sudden cascaded down. Might be due to the fact that I don’t care much for people at my college and am longing for a mutual, human connection.
The ponderings of youth.
Great art has dreadful manners. The greatest paintings grab you in a headlock, rough up your composure, and then proceed in short order to re-arrange your reality.
Simon Schama
I’m not going to be on the internet for a few days, give or take. I haven’t been in the right frame of mind as of late and I need to pull myself together a bit, hyperbolic as all this sounds.
Ever since Mog died, I’ve been feeling strongly self reflective. With my work, the ounce of what can be only described as contempt for college has become utterly destabilised. I feel like I am diminishing by being in the place, I say with regret. This is due to the fact that A) The people there are lovely but I’ve never had a thought-provoking conversation with one of them, and B) I’m not being pushed nor challenged by the work itself. I mean, I annotate pages regarding my psychological and emotional journey throughout whatever project I’m doing at the current time in an attempt to strain my brain and bring any sense of depth to my work, and the tutors don’t even fucking read it. They merely check your sketchbook to confirm that, yes, you have in fact done visible work. Then they have the audacity to tell me that I can’t leave two blank pages in a feeble attempt to give ‘advice’ as some sort of atonement for their lack of artistic guidance for the past eight months.
I don’t know. That was a jumbled rummage of thoughts (oo, postmodern).
Basically, I’ve been frequenting the internet (this site especially) over the past fortnight as a form of escapism. What the World Wide Web’s best for, I guess? So, yeah. Time to buckle down and concentrate on finding my artistic licence and in doing so sticking a steaming, middle finger to my tutor who hasn’t even talked to me in the past week.
Maybe I’m just having one of my gender identity crises, haha. Time to read Fight Club again.
I hate this. I hate posting stuff and pretending that nothing has happened. I feel like I’m desecrating his memory by laughing or smiling.
It’s like this nausea in the pit of my throat, and it will not desist.
I miss him so much. I just want to hug him.
