|
benshee
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Ben
Birthday: 10/12/1989
Gender: Male
Interests: I wish I had more things to add to this category. But I really don't. I like dark comedy films, epic movies, wordy books, simple games, occasional sports, TV repeats, controversial news, listening to the rain, girls.
Expertise: Dreaming.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Law/Commerce
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
11/23/2004
 True
|
|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| The JourneyI've said before that early morning posts are never useful because it's in the early mornings that I feel the most insecure and uncertain. But I guess that's because I was running from facing the problems which I am aware of, but have never tried to deal with. Now, I understand if you don't want to read this, because like me, some of my friends are unwilling to contemplate the serious but somewhat depressing issues that I raise, and understandably so. Therefore, bewarned, if you overthink the things I'm saying, you may very well end up unhappy or annoyed.
Let's say the average lifespan is 80 years. Most of the people I know have lived out around 20 years of that life, which means that you've lived a quarter of your life out already. Naturally, at least half of that went by without you noticing it, but towards the apex of the 20 years, we suddenly became aware of everything that surrounds us. We ceased to be amazed by the little things, and some of us become cynical about life. But now I ask you, are you happy with how you've lived your life so far?
I, for one, am not. I've used excuses to mask my displeasure with my inability to follow what all humans seem to desire, things which we describe as evolution, or happiness, progress or development. Essentially, people want to grow, we want to improve. But I've always been under the illusion that living life and enjoying what we're doing right now is part of living life. And maybe it is, I have no understanding of how humans are supposed to live their life, but I feel like we should be living with the aim of becoming better, improving some aspect of our life, not staying in the rut that is complacency.
Now, I know that I'm a little different from most of the people I know in the sense that I've grown much slower than they have. I'd like to blame my unwarranted sense of security, possibly derived from my genetic makeup, which is to say, because I'm tall and not stupid, I never feel threatened enough to need to develop any further. But I think I wasn't looking at the big picture. Life is so much more than what I thought it was, which is enjoying myself through pointless activities. I think my purpose in life right now, should be to have "growth" as a driving factor behind my pursuits. For now at least.
This rant is brought to you courtesy of Early Mornings.
| | |
| The Mountain PathDeep in the mountains, there is a pathway that leads to the heavens.
Jeaith crossed the aging wooden bridge which hung over the valley. Each step she took, the bridge creaked and groaned, like a decrepit shack being buffetted by desert winds, and swayed perilously. The valley was marked with titanic trees which sprawled as far as the eyes could see, up into the mountains and into the thick clouds which blanketed the entire ridge.
-I hope I can get across safely. -
The on the other side of the bridge was a small village. They grew crops lower in the valley, and caught wild animals for food. The villagers seldom left the mountain. Theirs was a world of solitude and isolation; far from the rest of the world.
-Hm. I wonder if they have any food here.-
As Jeaith entered the village, the villagers stared at her curiously. She was dressed poignantly, with her flame-orange robe, and golden cat-shaped hairpin in her long dark-red hair. She asked around for some food, and they directed her to the teahouse where the villagers gathered after working in the valley.
"Hi there, can I buy some food, and maybe rent a room from you?"
"Of course, we have a room here, it's small, but comfortable. What would you like to eat, Miss?"
After finishing a bowl of Wild Boar noodles, Jeaith wandered around the village. There were a few children running around a sunlit clearing with long branches in their hands. Jeaith headed further up, and saw where the valley had been partly cleared for planting rice crops. An older boy on his way back to the village noticed Jeaith looking out onto the mountain path across the clearing.
"Hello. I'm Tetsuo. What are you here for? We don't get many visitors."
"My name is Jeaith. I'm a travelling healer. I'm just passing through."
"But this mountain path doesn't go anywhere."
There was a myth, that somewhere in the mountains, there is a path that, during a full moon, led one to heaven, where you could see those who had passed, and where dreams would come true. It was said that people who went up that path never came back. Jeaith wanted to find the path, investigate it. Tetsuo assured her that the path led nowhere, that it was a treacherous path. But Jeaith wanted to go anyway.
That night, she set out to ascend the path, but Tetsuo was waiting for her at the entrance.
"If you're going, I'm coming with you."
As they walked along the path, Tetsuo told Jeaith about how his mother had gone up the path after their second child, Tetsuo's sister, had fallen off the wooden bridge and into the valley. When she didn't return, his father went up after her. That was three years ago. They didn't return. The villagers kept away from the path, and it was hard to distinguish where the dirt path used to be. As Tetsuo and Jeaith walked along the path, the trees got thicker and thicker, and soon, not even the bright moonlight could penetrate the thick canopy. The path continued, until they reached the peak of the mountain.
"Wow. Look at that." Tetsuo said.
There was a glow of what looked like thousands of green fireflies circling a cliff overlooking the valley. As Tetsuo approached the valley, the green fireflies started changing colours and shape. Soon, they had formed an image...there stood Tetsuo's parents and his little sister, smiling at him and waving. Tetsuo walked closer and closer to them, and the fireflies moved further and further away.
"No! Don't go there, it's dangerous!" Jeaith cried.
But it was too late, Tetsuo chased after his family, running in a stumbling manner, until he tripped, and fell off the cliff. Jeaith dived, and grabbed his arm just in time, and managed to pull him up.
"They're not real. Don't chase after them." She said, as she pulled him away from the cliff.
The fireflies were actually a type of spirit that showed people and animals their dreams and their lost ones, but consumed them when they fell off the cliff. They lived off other peoples hope and loss. Jeaith blocked off the pathway with some rocks and big braches, and went off on her way.
| | |
| Lots of timeSo, apparently I have time to not study at the moment, so I came to my blog.
My blog. Something I take pride in.
Exams are coming up. I don't really have time. I'll be back, I always do.
| | |
| One past I feel...
Dumb. Disconnected from "society". Abnormal. Unwanted.
At this moment.
I feel...
Different. Disgusting. Cheap. Incomplete.
But this is me.
| | |
| Goji and NoiseOutside, the noise levels are stupendously high, some classics for a sausage sizzle. Inside, the quiet murmur of exchanged thoughts disturbs me just as much as the ridiculous blaring music. I'll tell you a story.
Tess had a way with words. She loved winning arguments against her family, friends and teachers. In English class, she always had her hand in the air, accosting her teacher over every little discrepancy on interpretation. Tess wanted to be a writer one day; she wanted to write long epic stories that would lull her readers into a interminable fantasy of wonders, conflicts, rescues and comebacks.
Three out of the four walls of Tess's room were lined with tall oaken library shelves, each one hosting a huge range of books, from the enlightening encyclopedia collections, to the mundane dribble of chic lit. Tess's bed was surrounded by haphazardly stacked books, and near the window were big, comfy yet firm cushions - a clean white to match her thick woollen carpet; the window sill looked out onto the street where the neighbourhood kids played street cricket and hide and seek, and the sun always shined in brightly from morning to midday, and when it bade it's farewell, there was a sleek silver lamp nearby, with a bright, reliable light ready for Tess.
Tess loved school. She was different from the other girls her age; they were always talking about televisions shows, clothes and boys. Tess' lover was literature. She indulged in love stories, and each story was personal to her. She endevoured to avoid film adaptations of her novels, as they were a violation to her precepts. School was a place where Tess could shine, it was a place where ardent reading solicited praise rather than mockery. Everyday after school, Tess would stride home, eat her lunch, finish her homework and jump right into her books. On days when she felt like hunting for hiddem gems, she would head out to the library and peruse the fiction section fastidiously.
It was during one such outing that she met Joseph. Joseph happened to be at the library due to an unfortunate event involving a hideous looking spider and his predilection for agitating pests before he killed them. Tess noticed him frantically flipping through a book title: "Spiders and their habitats" by A.M. Elmith. Tess didn't notice the heart-shaped arrow flying into her chest, but she did suddenly feel very red in the face. Joseph, having failed to notice her standing there with her basket full of books, continued to rip through the book, his eyes darting between the pictures in the book and the 7 legged spider in an empty jam jar.
Tess spent the next few days haunting the library in hope of seeing Joseph again. Her heart yearned for his deep hazel eyes, and his magnificent mousey-brown hair. But Joseph never came: He had discovered that Huntsman spiders' venom was rather harmless, and had kept the spider as a pet. Tess found herself unable to focus on her serious books, and started to read silly love stories that her mother kept in the lounge downstairs. She started to talk to her friends at school about Joseph, and gradually made more and more friends. As she picked up shopping, she neglected her classics; as she started going to parties, she stopped reading her encyclopedias. And that my friends, is how you change a girl's life.
| | |
|
|
