If only you were still alive…
reading your words makes me smile every single time.
…
To Women, As Far As I’m Concerned
The feelings I don’t have I don’t have.
The feelings I don’t have, I won’t say I have.
The felings you say you have, you don’t have.
The feelings you would like us both to have, we neither of us have.
The feelings people ought to have, they never have.
If people say they’ve got feelings, you may be pretty sure they haven’t got them
So if you want either of us to feel anything at all
you’d better abandon all idea of feelings altogether.
— D.H Lawrence
Might not be the most appropriate song for this post but it’s a good song and at least one line (the title) pertains to the song? Plus, it’s what I’m listening to while posting this.
What is with men and watches? I can only begin to understand… i’m not big on giving expensive gifts because i’m one of those cheap believers that “its the thought that counts” and I have to say, I give pretty awesome thoughtful-but-affordable gifts. But hey, not going back home this Christmas means no xmas gifts to buy. So I guess the boy got lucky this year.
So it all started at 9am in the morning, sitting on my couch watching really bad tv because I have a flat-screen with no cable. I was intending to give my 2cents on Citi Harvest’s contradicting ad where the apples spill out of the subway. Here is how my though process went (don’t let sexy bunny over there distract you now, FOCUS!):
Let’s see if I can blog about it on my phone because the laptop is too far…
apparently not because the settings aren’t available. curse you technology!
maybe my toes can reach it…
success! victory is mine! ok…youtube.com
search: citi harvest
what? no i don’t want sunday sermons! *back back back*
re-search… oh hey wait a sec… that girl looks kinda cute. strip show fail? ok.. maybe I’ll just see what’s up over here…
omg… the dad caught her stripping!! that’s terrible.. I can’t imagine if my parents saw me stripping for a bunch of digitally wired up hornballs.
oh.. shit, you know what’s a good strip dance. that girl! oh shit, what was her name *youtube’s frantically* search: best stripdance ever. (what’s wrong with my search? i’m sure i’m not the only one that thinks so) Oh yes her name is Keyra Augustina.. there we go.
So then I look up, to continue watching what I was watching, and I guess the irony was too much for me not to laugh:
my brain’s innocence and perversion at it’s finest hour.
if you don’t know who Keyra is, you must have been living under a rock when I was 21 because she definitely made an impact on me, and this was before pole-dancing was considered a *pfft* sport.
update: ok. I guess 4 extra years to my life has desensitize me to illicit material because that wasn’t as hot as I remembered.
it’s like the time I scoured for months for the original vintage My Little Ponies movie only to be annoyed by the over-saturation of squeaks and cheese. Disappointing!
Chanced upon this while trying to look for a song to sing to Mr. Sallee while he books our trip to Telluride, Colorado. Can’t wait to fall multiple times face first into snow while trying out the bunny slopes. Sexy! Anyway, getting sidetracked. I love how ads are slowly evolving to become less “commercial” and more art-aware. I mean, we all remember those spectacular Sony Bravia ads (even though I hate them still because they totally ripped off Kozyndan’s bunnies, I have not forgiven them for that and I probably never will.)
Anyway, sidetracked again. I really hope this is one step forward towards deeper concept while still trying to sell! sell! SELL IT ALL!! Here is Chipotle’s heartwarming animation, minus the cheesy american humor/ wtf puns / completely ridiculous storyboarding that has no real relation to the product —
Breathtakingly Inspiring versus Tragically Depressing. I don’t see why everyone thinks it’s beautiful. I think it’s pretty obvious where I stand with wild animal captivity.
“Here I am all myself. No rose-bush heaving It’s limpid sap to culmination has brought Itself more sheer and naked out of the green In stark-clear roses, than I to myself am brought.”
—The lovely D.H Lawrence
I can’t quite put my finger on when this began, but i know there’s nothing quite like it before in my life. I think it started when I made a ledge for my birdcage by the window and placed the fish tank by my couch.
Saturday mornings are definitely the happiest times of the week, from the magic hours of 9am— 1pm. The streets are quiet and the sun shines through to wake me, with my cat sleeping above my head nuzzling my hair in content. The sheets are the softest at this hour and I lie in bed for a good hour or so planning my day in my head before I get out of bed to let the birds have their morning flight. Making my way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, my cat will notice my lack of presence in bed and wander out to greet me with a yawn and a curl of his tail around my bare leg while I heat up a nice cup of english breakfast and accompany it with probably something with tomatoes in it.
As I get ready to settle down at kitchen bar for my breakfast, Maru will jump onto my lap to settle in for a quick cat nap and cuddle into my warm robe while i sit by the window and watch the world go by. This is all accompanied by the sweet smell of mango incense, birds chirping and the relaxing sounds of water from my fish tank. Sometimes, if i’m lucky and get out of bed early enough, the sun rays hit my window plants and it’s really quite amazing, in my opinion at least.
It has come to my realization that I have unknowingly created a rather man-made garden of solace in my living room. It’s a little tragic that I can’t open my window to a real ocean/ forest and have naturally scented air. But to have at least the joy of experiencing something pretty damn close on a weekly basis, I really can’t complain. In fact, call me paranoid, but I’m starting to worry because nothing this good lasts forever.
Since updating my website has been put on the back burner for awhile, I guess I should explain why I have no desire to do more website work when I get back home.
For every morning of the past 6 mths and counting, my daily routine consists of battling it out to the city on the god forsaken L-train. On bad days, I moan/kick/scream and tell my cat he is lucky he does not have to deal with this and can sleep all day while I struggle to put food in his bowl.
But on good days, I really enjoy it. Maybe it’s the feeling of having complete balance. Coming home the night before to quiet solitude and then taking the train in to a rude awakening. The journey almost literal. I’ve been wanting to write about this for awhile but I get side-tracked everytime I get into work, today I decided I should stop putting it off.
What I really love about it is the people. When you’re squished like sardines with strangers you don’t know, you really start to notice things. Like the impatient girl who sidles to the front of the backed up line somehow making everybody seethe in silence, only evident because the vibes of everyone just reverberates of each other.
Then, on the opposite side of the spectrum, you have two lovebirds lost in their own little world. They talk intimately but because you’re so near you are forced to hear every single word. You notice their gentle caresses and the way they look at each other like being in a crowded subway is the most romantic thing on earth. And I can understand why that is. She leans in for a quick kiss with such a cheerful light in her you almost wish that by standing close enough you can feed off her energy. But you can’t, so you look away just like the rest around her.
Then, you have the majority of the world, either plugged into some distraction (i.e Kindle, books, headphones, magazines) just waiting to get from Point A to Point B. everyday with stoney expressions. And you wonder what they are really thinking.
Damn, I have more to say but have to get back to earning my cat his meals. Maybe tonight I will continue. Probably not.
