Okay, exams are comin up…I’m gonna start studying TONIGHT!
HONESTLY!!!
Been still going out waay too much these past few nights. And things are reaaaally complicated with this one girl I really like, a LOT. I mean, DAMN, why is it that being friends with someone, and being urself is so damn easy, but the moment u consciously realize that this person means a LOT to you, then every single second u spend with her becomes a self-conscious torture exercise where u try to not think so much, try not to screw things up because suddenly this friendship seems hystERICALLY fragile to you for no good reason, and u wish u could grab that weak, sabotaging gremlin in ur head and strangle it…
just try to LET GO. I mean WHY the hell am I worrying so much that any little thing I say might make her run away like some cliché delicate flower at the beginning of winter? THESE ARE FAKE BLOODY WORRIES! Whatever happened to taking a risk, and just living OUTSIDE of a safe, boring comfort zone?? If anything will make anyone run away, it’ll be from getting bored of my trying so hard to be smart and impressive and being terrified, to the point of stagnation, of saying something wrong.
Fake expectations and disappointed minds, and torturously broken hearts, and deliriously happy moments of mania…bleh. I was nOT made for this shit. Wouldn’t it be cool if relationships were simple?
And don’t give me that “if it was simple, they wouldn’t be worth so much” Crap. Grow a mind of ur own. I just want them to be SIMPLEEE!!! To hell with it. I’ll make it simple! (and screw things up like a pIG haha)
Adios!
(aaaand u’ll probably hear some crappy sob story from me in a few days haha)
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Surgery
Tomorrow I will be going to a place where being under control of a few old men with a limited imagination is a virtue. I will go to a place where having faults and being imperfect are reasons to be condemned absolutely; socially, academically and intellectually. I will go to a place where medieval hierarchy rules, and those in “charge” get away with petty banter and cause immense pressure that would not be at all believable outside those soulless walls. But within, you sit there with a stark, mind-drowning realization that this is all real, and this is where you are stuck for at least 3 weeks.
Tomorrow, I will be starting Surgery in Pretoria Academic Hospital with consultants and registrars that have less vision and compassion and magnanimity than a wad of spit that’s dried up and smells bad.
Wish me luck. :)
Adios.
Tomorrow, I will be starting Surgery in Pretoria Academic Hospital with consultants and registrars that have less vision and compassion and magnanimity than a wad of spit that’s dried up and smells bad.
Wish me luck. :)
Adios.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Once Upon a Time...Part 2
Once upon a time, there was a boy that found himself standing in the middle of a war with huge warriors and skull-decorated brutes that crashed and screamed and hacked away at each other all around him, roaring war cries and dropping by the hundreds to the floor, blood and guts flying everywhere...
One day, the boy realized he wasn’t perfect. The oversized sword and shield were still in his hands, and still not realizing they were there, he scratched his head thoughtfully. These people had a point in picking on him. The faults that they were jumping on him for were valid. He was the things they accused him of being.
But they were many of those things themselves too. But he wasn’t rubbing that in their faces. He wasn’t picking on them for it, so why were they doing that to him? He just wanted to be left alone. But he realized he was in the middle of this war, whether he now wanted it or now. He realized he was going to have to just suck up his gut and take it, to be patient and still smile and be his delirious self in the face of all their attacking him. He would have to just make himself comfortable in the hell until he developed his means to fight back, and create that peace that he wanted so badly by himself.
And a few of the strong ones in the army watched and waited patiently for him to realize that he had the perfect weapons in his own hands. They waited for him to lose himself and just act without the dilution of thought, with nothing but the pure, most primeval fluctuations of his heart, and use those perfect weapons with absolutely no reserve…
To be continued?
One day, the boy realized he wasn’t perfect. The oversized sword and shield were still in his hands, and still not realizing they were there, he scratched his head thoughtfully. These people had a point in picking on him. The faults that they were jumping on him for were valid. He was the things they accused him of being.
But they were many of those things themselves too. But he wasn’t rubbing that in their faces. He wasn’t picking on them for it, so why were they doing that to him? He just wanted to be left alone. But he realized he was in the middle of this war, whether he now wanted it or now. He realized he was going to have to just suck up his gut and take it, to be patient and still smile and be his delirious self in the face of all their attacking him. He would have to just make himself comfortable in the hell until he developed his means to fight back, and create that peace that he wanted so badly by himself.
And a few of the strong ones in the army watched and waited patiently for him to realize that he had the perfect weapons in his own hands. They waited for him to lose himself and just act without the dilution of thought, with nothing but the pure, most primeval fluctuations of his heart, and use those perfect weapons with absolutely no reserve…
To be continued?
Shadow
Theres this thing that pops up in my head when I’m overcome with despair, or when I’m overcome with happiness. I never notice it coming, but only I realize it when its too late. When its already here.
I thought that it’s fear. I thought it’s that terrified part of me that wants hold me back from all the little things and big things of life. The part of me that thinks little of me. But whatever it is, it also pops up when something happens that’s almost too good to be true. When I’m overcome with happiness. It waits for me to be lost in that feeling, with my head in the clouds, completely overjoyed and in disbelief. And then it comes.
It’s the part of me that hates me. It waits for when I’ve lost an iota of control of my self. Whether I’ve lost myself in fear, or hopelessness, or extreme happiness. It sabotages every aspect of my life that it possibly can. Makes me do things that I wouldn’t believe in my “conscious” states. How do I keep it back?
I’m going to name you. I will name you Mr. Valentine. Because of the massacres you’ve caused.
Haha….okay, waaaay too corny for a short story, huh? Maybe..I’ll see.
Adios.
S
I thought that it’s fear. I thought it’s that terrified part of me that wants hold me back from all the little things and big things of life. The part of me that thinks little of me. But whatever it is, it also pops up when something happens that’s almost too good to be true. When I’m overcome with happiness. It waits for me to be lost in that feeling, with my head in the clouds, completely overjoyed and in disbelief. And then it comes.
It’s the part of me that hates me. It waits for when I’ve lost an iota of control of my self. Whether I’ve lost myself in fear, or hopelessness, or extreme happiness. It sabotages every aspect of my life that it possibly can. Makes me do things that I wouldn’t believe in my “conscious” states. How do I keep it back?
I’m going to name you. I will name you Mr. Valentine. Because of the massacres you’ve caused.
Haha….okay, waaaay too corny for a short story, huh? Maybe..I’ll see.
Adios.
S
Friday, May 11, 2007
Choices...
Wow. I haven’t written in a while, have I?
These past few days have certainly been hectic…30 hour calls, then parties overnight, then more calls, then more parties….work hard play hard, right? Ha. Not sure if I’m really managing. Gonna try to cool off over the next few days.
I only just realized, the quality of SOME of the stuff I write (like my book) depends on how much hardship I’m goin through at that time. For what I’m to be remembered by to be any good, I have to pay with my misery. To have a comfortable life means writing almost nothing that’s worth remembering. Has to be one or the other, can never have both, it seems.
Hell. I’ll take the life of misery over short-term comfort anyday. As long as this heartfelt crap I write is guaranteed to skyrocket into centuries, eons. Hah. Listen to me. A writing megalomaniac in the making.
Anyway, I’ll keep this one brief. On call again tomorrow, and after last nights party, I’m feeling like a sluggish zombie. (yeah, oxymoron right there)
Take care
Adios!
These past few days have certainly been hectic…30 hour calls, then parties overnight, then more calls, then more parties….work hard play hard, right? Ha. Not sure if I’m really managing. Gonna try to cool off over the next few days.
I only just realized, the quality of SOME of the stuff I write (like my book) depends on how much hardship I’m goin through at that time. For what I’m to be remembered by to be any good, I have to pay with my misery. To have a comfortable life means writing almost nothing that’s worth remembering. Has to be one or the other, can never have both, it seems.
Hell. I’ll take the life of misery over short-term comfort anyday. As long as this heartfelt crap I write is guaranteed to skyrocket into centuries, eons. Hah. Listen to me. A writing megalomaniac in the making.
Anyway, I’ll keep this one brief. On call again tomorrow, and after last nights party, I’m feeling like a sluggish zombie. (yeah, oxymoron right there)
Take care
Adios!
Monday, May 7, 2007
Critic #1
Well, my sister didn’t like my latest short story, which sucks. Haha.She says I used too much exposition, and built up the story way too much, creating too much expectation in her, and ultimately leading her to being disappointed in an anti-climactic ending.
Damn.
OH WELL!! Haha. I did write it way too self consciously as I mentioned before…I don’t know why I’m finding it so hard to just let go over these past few weeks/months. Obligations and expectations and fears and inadequacies are holding my subconscious back, and have created some kind of fake autopilot in me again. It’s a survival mechanism, I think, to the conventions of my surgery rotation. Its not really helping, though, because I’m unconsciously (but feebly) rebelling against that autopilot in every way I can. And because I’m sporadically attacking this autopilot survival mechanism, my actions and their outcomes have become rather self-destructive and pointless.
Or maybe I’m just thinking too much. Who knows.
Damn culture growing in my head, trying to take hold of the reins of my choices. Some people call it culture. Others may call it routine, or convention, or dare I say education.
The human soul is not conventional by nature. Convention breeds manipulation which ultimately leads to selfish gain by the manipulator. That’s the only reason why we’ve become conventional as a society. There’s nothing routine or conventional about the true human nature. That’s why I hate this routine tendency that I find growing in me. We’re meant to be free of any sort of patterns that can be classified or stereotyped. How can the human soul, which isn’t even nearly understood, already be confined by shallow social standards that change color with the slightest change in circumstance. Souls cant really live such caged lives.
At least not mine. And I can’t be alone in this.
Damn.
OH WELL!! Haha. I did write it way too self consciously as I mentioned before…I don’t know why I’m finding it so hard to just let go over these past few weeks/months. Obligations and expectations and fears and inadequacies are holding my subconscious back, and have created some kind of fake autopilot in me again. It’s a survival mechanism, I think, to the conventions of my surgery rotation. Its not really helping, though, because I’m unconsciously (but feebly) rebelling against that autopilot in every way I can. And because I’m sporadically attacking this autopilot survival mechanism, my actions and their outcomes have become rather self-destructive and pointless.
Or maybe I’m just thinking too much. Who knows.
Damn culture growing in my head, trying to take hold of the reins of my choices. Some people call it culture. Others may call it routine, or convention, or dare I say education.
The human soul is not conventional by nature. Convention breeds manipulation which ultimately leads to selfish gain by the manipulator. That’s the only reason why we’ve become conventional as a society. There’s nothing routine or conventional about the true human nature. That’s why I hate this routine tendency that I find growing in me. We’re meant to be free of any sort of patterns that can be classified or stereotyped. How can the human soul, which isn’t even nearly understood, already be confined by shallow social standards that change color with the slightest change in circumstance. Souls cant really live such caged lives.
At least not mine. And I can’t be alone in this.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
The Devils Hand
Alright, I just wrote my latest short story…Not sure what to call it. The Devils Hands, maybe.
I love the story, I think its my best one in months, but my problem is the style I’ve written it with. Dammit, it feels like I was too self-concious in writing it. From experience, I’ve noticed that the worst thing I can do with my stories is force it out, worry too much about whats been said and whats not said…worried about the technicalities of it. Worried about my own abilities in making it awesome. All that worry translates into a deliberately written, just kind of plain BORING story, no matter how good the original idea may be.
When I just let go and let the most crazy shit just come out without holding back with dumbass self-doubt or feelings of inadequacy in expression..thats when the most incredible things come out. Or maybe this is just a paranoid lack of self-confidence that’s talking. I need to take a break, go back and read it again with a clear head and see if it really feels forced.
Its about a guy that’s obsessed with finding immortality…and he finds it at a terrible cost to hundreds of people that he knows....and Zombies get involved at some point. haha
Anyway, adios :)
I love the story, I think its my best one in months, but my problem is the style I’ve written it with. Dammit, it feels like I was too self-concious in writing it. From experience, I’ve noticed that the worst thing I can do with my stories is force it out, worry too much about whats been said and whats not said…worried about the technicalities of it. Worried about my own abilities in making it awesome. All that worry translates into a deliberately written, just kind of plain BORING story, no matter how good the original idea may be.
When I just let go and let the most crazy shit just come out without holding back with dumbass self-doubt or feelings of inadequacy in expression..thats when the most incredible things come out. Or maybe this is just a paranoid lack of self-confidence that’s talking. I need to take a break, go back and read it again with a clear head and see if it really feels forced.
Its about a guy that’s obsessed with finding immortality…and he finds it at a terrible cost to hundreds of people that he knows....and Zombies get involved at some point. haha
Anyway, adios :)
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
A weak example of "writing every day"
Well, another 27 hour call tomorrow.
I find myself at a comfort zone again. Its always a week or so into every rotation that I get this feeling. Where I just don’t feel like studying, where going every morning to this new place isn’t such a big deal anymore, and I’ve more or less gotten used to the new house doctors and registrars. And its also the point of comfort where I feel deluded enough to think I don’t need to study now…I can study later, and before I know it, the 7 weeks is over and exams are here. And I always end up feeling stupid. Like “what the FUCK didn’t I study for in these past 7 weeks?!?? What was I doiNG?!?”
In the first week of every rotation, I usually study a lot, then in the second week with this comfort zone, I start taking it easy..and its always because of some circumstantial thing, like late nights partying or going on call, and just being too bummed or tired to study for a few days, and the habit of studying breaks, and never really recovers.
Anyway :)
Just my pointless rant of the day. Adios, amigos
S
I find myself at a comfort zone again. Its always a week or so into every rotation that I get this feeling. Where I just don’t feel like studying, where going every morning to this new place isn’t such a big deal anymore, and I’ve more or less gotten used to the new house doctors and registrars. And its also the point of comfort where I feel deluded enough to think I don’t need to study now…I can study later, and before I know it, the 7 weeks is over and exams are here. And I always end up feeling stupid. Like “what the FUCK didn’t I study for in these past 7 weeks?!?? What was I doiNG?!?”
In the first week of every rotation, I usually study a lot, then in the second week with this comfort zone, I start taking it easy..and its always because of some circumstantial thing, like late nights partying or going on call, and just being too bummed or tired to study for a few days, and the habit of studying breaks, and never really recovers.
Anyway :)
Just my pointless rant of the day. Adios, amigos
S
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