In search for the perfect answers in life, I write the ones I have found
My Mood Today:
Taking my breath,
Building up the courage,
Knowing I’ll be okay.
Here we go (?)
Quick note between exams and papers.
I was reading an article about how consumerism shape the way we live. That today, we prefer ending than mending. We throw away old clothes instead of mending them like what our grandmothers would have done in their time. We throw away plastic, or use recyclable bags only for a few grocery rounds before we discard them when they’re out of fashion.
Do we apply the same principles to our personal relationships? Do we discard our partners when they’re out of tune? Or do we work on mending the crack at all cost?
Has the culture of instant replacement affected our lives so much that the argument that consumerism is totalitarian justified?
In the age of going all things recycled, maybe we should recycle our relationships too. Or, at least get an upgrade of the same person. Just like McDonald’s or BK, you always have the choice to supersize ;)
1. Allow the angel to reach room temperature. Then kill it.
2. Kill God. Set Him aside.
3. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
4. Ecstatically whip, as if possessed by a storm-wind of freedom, 1-1/2 cups of excellent egg whites with 1/4 tsp. salt and 1-1/2 tsp. cream of tartar. Continue until peaks are as if raised to their own heights and given wings in a fine air, a robust air.
5. Gradually add 3/4 cup sugar, about 3 tbsp. at a time.
6. You are brilliant.
7. Now, add 1 tsp. vanilla and 1/4 tsp. almond extract, and then sift together 1-1/4 cups flour and 3/4 cup sugar.
8. Blend in God and the angel. Emboldened, add the egg mixture.
9. Gaze into the überbatter. The überbatter will gaze into you.
10. While prancing about in a frenzy of self-satisfaction and anticipation, use a rubber scraper to push the überbatter into an ungreased 10” tube pan, for it is destined to be there.
11. Bake on a lower rack until done, usually 35-40 minutes, while reciting to the upper rack a long, convoluted anecdote about your childhood.
12. Invert the tube pan over a bottle for a few hours. Then impetuously rap the pan. Shout, “Aha!” and slide a knife along the pan’s insides.
13. Call what tumbles out a cake if you dare. Call it miraculous even.
14. Eat it. It is delicate, morbid, loveable, and you will die depressed, delirious, and overweight.
Courtesy: Rebecca Coffey
I’m not saying that market force is the way to go, they have their narrow visions and have signs that are often misleading. But I do believe that even the most state-led industries become what they are because of market forces, not in spite of.
The most authoritarian and autonomous states are working as very capitalistic institutions, across periods, across borders. State insulation, is not about reducing the power of the market, but about maintaining absolute power of the market, making sure that market actors do not play politics!
Market should not be seen as vi-a-vis state, it should be seen as part of the same coin as the state. lose one, lose all.
How can I not fall in love with this country?
It’s so beautiful even though it’s bone-biting cold.
Great Britain 07 January 2010
When you wake up and see that the sun is still there,
you know that life is going to be just fine.
When you wake up and see the sun is still there,
you know that it shines for your loved ones too.
When you wake up and see the sun is till there,
it’s a good enough reason to smile and have a good day.
I’ve been away from my soul for a little too long that words seem to run away from the tips of my fingers. Every tap on the keyboard sounds like broken glass, every figure on screen looks like shattered dreams. Tonight, behind the gentle snowfall in January, once again I beautifully dance with my alphabets.
Like an eagle learning to fly for the first time, I fell and hit the ground far too many times within the last quarter. Finally finding my balance, finally being able to feel the wind beneath my wings, I once again find the passion for my world. Once again, I found my passion for politics, for the paradox between superficial egotistic interests and grand visions of a better world.
When I was young and naive, barely had the strength to stand on my feet, I was under the wings of a great man who believed that the world can be better. That what he does, make all the difference; that what he does will lay grounds for the sustainable development of a better world. He taught me how to be strong, he taught me how to believe in dreams, he taught me how to live. He was my hero.
But just like everything else in the world, only change is certain. Slowly I watched him wither, slowly I see life fading away from his eyes. It breaks my heart to see that what’s left in him is nothing but a forgotten dream. Filled with bitterness, he retreats from life, believing that another path will bring sweet serenade. Like a warrior defeated, he’d rather be a mercenary. His wings are now too weak to fight for both our winds. What is left is only a few feathers that would fly him home. Wounded, he perched on a tree, telling me to go ahead and find my way, telling me not to fear getting lost for I will always be able to find my way back, because his light no matter how weak will beam for me from a thousand miles away.
Not having his wings to shape the wind for me, I suddenly have to fly solo. I no longer have a wind breaker. I fell hard and broke my wings. All he could do is look from a distance, sending me glances that said, “You can do it. You have all you need to soar. Stand tall, try again.”
Licking my wounds, afraid of taking another leap, I seek to see what he would have done had he had to conquer the storm. And there I see it! I feel it! I realised that my fall was because I thought the wind had changed. That it was a different terrain because suddenly hard gusts of wind blew against me, from what was usually a soft gentle breeze. It wasn’t the wind that changed. It was me!
My mentor has finished his journey. My mentor has finished his mission. But mine still lie vast ahead. He has taught me well that I can find my own way through the storm. The dark skies are steps away from me now. Sounds of thunder have shaken my ground, warning me of what’s to come. But this time I am ready. Let the storm come, I will not fight the wind but I will master every blow, knowing that even in the dark, one light shines my way.
A free soul once said, that people started out with their ideals in hand, but then their spirit slowly die with the stream of bureaucracy. Even after they’re zombified, sometimes a flicker of hope stays in them, believing that they are making a difference in the world. It’s that hope that keeps the world going. It’s that hope that gives light to the next warrior.
Thank you. For everything. You, are my hero.
Stressing about my philosophy exam, I came across this wonderful, fun, curious website.
Try it! http://www.markvernon.com/quiz/my-philosophy-guru/
here’s mine:
ZENO OF CITIUM.
Key fact: He taught in a stoa, the Athenian supermarket, and hence founded the school of philosophy called Stoicism.
Must have: An interest in everyday life, for it is there that you learn life’s big lessons.
Key promise: An ability to face anything, no matter how disastrous.
Key peril: To be “stoical” is to turn your back on passion.
Most likely to say: “If you have integrity, no-one can harm you.”
Least likely to say: “Forget prudence! It won’t help you anyway.”
