There is no culture is my brag ...
The Fall, 'The Classical'
In the circle of my acquaintance of late there has been much talk about the proliferation of web-logs and phenomena associated with same. Some have opined (even on said web-logs) that this will allow people to be more open about their true feelings. I would like to stand in the negative. This place will never represent the true me. It wouldn't do so even if I were to try. I'm sometimes of the opinion that there isn't a true me at all, and that honesty is just a flawed approach to an unreachable ideal of personal essence.
I've railed about the horror of habit. And I've meant it. Have you (any of you) ever felt yourself moved by forces beyond your control? Forces impelling you to behave or act in a certain way, simply because precedent demands it? I know I have. To submit to such forces is to fail as an individual. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether the passenger, travelling through a horrid environ without control over the vehicle, or the driver, grimly holding to a course despite the protests from the cabin, is closer to the real you. This split is apparent when one attempts to instigate a personal change - a change of habit. Personal change is just a pretence that eventually becomes a reality. Until one's new routines are actually routine, a certain degree of discomfort is inevitable.
In the midst of life we are in death. Aaron's grandmother. Rae's poor cat, Mouse. Nothing drives home the transitory nature of the self better than reaching a terminus. If you're reading this, I implore you to go and use your time for something interesting. Preferably a means of reaching immortality. I'm not one of those types who'd shrink from eternal life.
Flames grow higher, yeah the flames grow higher, erase my name from your lips as we kiss
Higher, yeah, the flames grow higher, now there's one less soul on your fiery list!
The Triffids, 'Hometown Farewell Kiss'
Did I say, in the midst of life we are in death? I meant, in the midst of life we are in Perth. It's a tidy, pretty place, but sometimes it's so anodyne it breaks my heart. At those times I think I'd rather be starving to death in a swamp than walking the seamless bitumen streets of this toy town. I must leave at some point just so that I can come back happily.
The Fall, 'The Classical'
In the circle of my acquaintance of late there has been much talk about the proliferation of web-logs and phenomena associated with same. Some have opined (even on said web-logs) that this will allow people to be more open about their true feelings. I would like to stand in the negative. This place will never represent the true me. It wouldn't do so even if I were to try. I'm sometimes of the opinion that there isn't a true me at all, and that honesty is just a flawed approach to an unreachable ideal of personal essence.
I've railed about the horror of habit. And I've meant it. Have you (any of you) ever felt yourself moved by forces beyond your control? Forces impelling you to behave or act in a certain way, simply because precedent demands it? I know I have. To submit to such forces is to fail as an individual. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether the passenger, travelling through a horrid environ without control over the vehicle, or the driver, grimly holding to a course despite the protests from the cabin, is closer to the real you. This split is apparent when one attempts to instigate a personal change - a change of habit. Personal change is just a pretence that eventually becomes a reality. Until one's new routines are actually routine, a certain degree of discomfort is inevitable.
In the midst of life we are in death. Aaron's grandmother. Rae's poor cat, Mouse. Nothing drives home the transitory nature of the self better than reaching a terminus. If you're reading this, I implore you to go and use your time for something interesting. Preferably a means of reaching immortality. I'm not one of those types who'd shrink from eternal life.
Flames grow higher, yeah the flames grow higher, erase my name from your lips as we kiss
Higher, yeah, the flames grow higher, now there's one less soul on your fiery list!
The Triffids, 'Hometown Farewell Kiss'
Did I say, in the midst of life we are in death? I meant, in the midst of life we are in Perth. It's a tidy, pretty place, but sometimes it's so anodyne it breaks my heart. At those times I think I'd rather be starving to death in a swamp than walking the seamless bitumen streets of this toy town. I must leave at some point just so that I can come back happily.
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