| 5 April | Psycho Killer | qu'est-ce que c'est? |
Perhaps a little background is required: Ross is my step-brother, now married. He's probably cracking 25 now, but ever since I've met him, I've felt he has the mental age of a 12 year old. To get to the point of this story (hold on, what?!) it provoked me to go one drawer higher where I found a selection of photos of myself (how touching) ranging from when I was about 1, until I was 16 (ahh, my salad days, when I was young and green) and I had a sudden urge to build some kind of "progression" from them, that traces my development from a long haired bogan of a 3 year old, to the slowly but surely decaying tim fucken grey I've become...but wait, I want to share it with the world. That's right, I see a place for it on this website (long time since last pics, no?) and with some kind of accompanying narrative (no, I'm not going to whine about my "downward spiral") it could prove quite a fulfilling excercise for myself. I'd also like to delve deeper into what sort of person I am on this page, so maybe some lame self-test results could find a home here too.
To be perfectly honest, I don't think I care whether people come here, look at them, call me a Waiukuian freak or anything (because believe me, some of the pictures are less than flattering), I just think to understand my future, I need to have greater pride and awareness of my past and present, and that may be accomplished by exposing myself to the world (and tearing down my own emotional wall I guess?) Rumination of the Moment™: Ummm...I think this thing is broken. Haha, hurrah for obscurity.
| 5 April | A Treatise on the Destruction of a Wicked World | right said fred |
Rumination of the Moment™: The words of someone who can’t stand up to real life, you say? Fuck you.
| 30 March | I've got a bike! | mescalitor |
| 28 March | Human Zoo |
Witching hour.
Enter Tim.
Food cruising. Three restaurants, $10 spent in total. Verona. Mmm mmm. Alright, a wee tale about restaurant the third. Dumpling House on K'Road. Decrepid vagrant approaches me with two buckets, one filled with coins, the other with old minties and fruit bursts. She asks for a donation to help old women or something. With noticeable detachment, I fob her off. No change (TRUE). She mumbles something incoherently, and moves onto the next table. With only 4 or so occupied, it will not be long before she is gone. I hear her routine at the neighbours table. The crashing of change, I turn instinctively to watch the vagrant fall backwards between two tables onto the floor, reunited with her buckets and scattered worldly possessions. People turn to look. They turn back. It was only 10 seconds before it struck me she was not going to be aided by anyone as she writhed on the ground picking at the scattered coins. I approach her. Offer assistance. No response. She continues to peck at the change and sweets, sorting them into buckets. I offer again. Nothing. No acknowledgement. Stubborn fucking bitch. She continues. Grabs at ribs. I offer to help her up. She claws pathetically for change...a ten cent piece...out of her field of vision. I watch as her hand grasps at it yet she only pushes it further away. She gives in, and begins to weep. I finish her work, refill her coffers and offer my hands. It takes many offers before she finally realises she depends on me if she is ever to stand again. I yank her up, shaking with her weight as I do so. No thanks. Nothing. I ask that she sits down, yet she only responds with a shake of the head. I sit down myself, and watch as she embarassedly stumbles towards the exit, and almost falls again. I get up, leading her out of the restaurant, hearing four times that she has only one lung, one kidney and half a heart, and forced to come up with a new response each time. I feel no empathy. She stumbles out, dropping her jumper as she does so yet moving on. I pursue her with it, hear one more time of her "major organ crisis", and can only manage "That's disappointing". How appropriate. So off she stumbles, as if drunken. I run to the bathroom and wash my hands with soap. Rumination of the Moment™:
"Lets go."
"Alright."
"We can't."
"Why not?"
"We're waiting for Godot."
| 6 March | A Communication to the Children |
Perhaps writing this entry is a moment's respite from the reality that now stands before me. Potentially only 5 years in the fine institution of Auckland University and then where? If this entry conveys a "pointlessness of human existence" vibe then I heartily apologise. It's not that I'm not excited about the new environment I'm in day by day (though incidentally only 3 intensive days a week) it's more that the motivational speeches at the introductory law lectures have left me with something of a bad taste in my mouth...through gritted teeth, the Dean of Law speaks in predictable monotone, "You guys are so lucky to get into this course. We turn away 3 times more people than we accept into this course. We turn away even more into second year law. Everyone enjoys law." Thanks Doc, I'm cured of my pessimism and cynicism! Not helped by our coloured lecturer Nin Thomas who then spent 5 minutes rambling in Maori (though by saying this, I am prosecutable under provision 43 of the Human Rights Act) before carrying on about the importance of the Treaty of Waitangi, Parliamentary Supremacy, and other such riveting cobbswabble.
Law aside, my Arts papers look like a lot of fun. English seems to be drilling in Modernism/Post-Modernism, metaphysics and the like, while Asian Studies astounded me in 2 short hours. Art History (if completely elementary) looks to have potential...a good time shall be had by all? I met up with a blast from the past from Auckland Grammar, who had been in my class since 4th form. Old Max Raos has moved to Senior College and taken up English 101 at Uni for the year...he had a lot to say, and seemed to cling to me for security. Funny what they say about getting on well with people who you hated at high school. So true.
Back to woik tomorrow after a week's break (brought on by a great 3 nights of lantern-festivaling) and I must say I'm looking forward to it in some twisted way. I feel like if I stop thinking I'll turn into the apathetic mess I was during my holidays who allowed my relationships with others to fall to pieces. Doing my best not to be shy and introverted at University has kind of led to being slightly intimidated by the 27, 000 people bustling around me. Very little social contact, and now this...biiiig change.
And now my friends, my burning desire to update you on my life has left me...I really do have more to say, but I guess the urge to talk about such things has left me for now. Until next time, be safe. Rumination of the Moment™: It is a far, far better thing to have a firm anchor in nonsense than to put out on the troubled sea of thought.