we always speak of death being a natural thing in itself, however inevitably fear will penetrate our hearts upon it's mention. (well, except for necrophilic people. not so much fear, rather libido) anyway, death somehow puts our minds in a weird place, filling our noggin' with all kinds of morbid images. yes, this does induce a rather scary possible premonition of our deaths, but i believe most fear death not so much that ours will be a painful one, but rather we fear the empty, gaping nothingness that awaits on the other side. the direct opposite of existence. when we die, it's like the blowing out of a candle. no one really notices, nothing big really happens. while my religion pushes me to touch on heaven, thinking of it from another perspective really seems quite scary. how can we be reduced to a pathetic state of non-existence, after all we've done? after all we've been through. is this life really all for naught? that once everything is said and done, Fate snuffs your candle with the slightest breath. then you become nothing. no thought, no feeling, no existence. nothingness. the fact that we revel in our own existence while we are alive, proves to produce a greater fear of when our existence is suddenly taken away. but the fact that, one day existence will be taken, whether it accidentally slips your fingers, or even if death pries it away from your rigor mortis. how will you face this nothingness?

hm. there's something wrong with blogger. posting is hell of a beeotch.

okay, so, today's post. during lit class, amidst the nasty comments joshua made about the bands of today, i thought of something. (again) something about the prospect of continuity.

actually, 'prospect of continuity' was something i thought up for fun. i mean, we all are interested by this. the prospect of living forever, saying "gosh, i can do this forever." but of course, we don't. there's always this aspect of boredom. my guess is that maybe boredom was a typical human reaction. i mean, everything is not permanent(infinitely continuous), so boredom is something the human mind came up with just in case we got too close to something. in view of the temporality of life we have actually adapted to grow bored of something, to no longer desire or yearn for an object perhaps for a fundamentally basic removal of affection to brace us for the loss or destruction of a certain object. though there are things that seem to last forever, like happiness and overarching themes like love, but then again these aren't objects per se, but rather, a sort of human feeling, a human reaction by itself. i believe human reactions are unable to cancel each other out, after all, they are of the same source.

it's less interesting than other arguments, but still. it's disturbing to note.

gawd i have quite a lot to say. shall post again.

heh. life goes on.

your life is an occasion.

rise up to it.

-Mr Magorium.

and look at the clouds.

i mean just look. anytime you look at the sky it's an artpiece.

ah well, i've been thinking maybe life isn't that unhappy or dull. maybe i'll take a road trip. heh.

anyway, i've met someone today. we had been the best of friends in primary school, him being the spastic funny guy, me being me. so he would get the attention, i wouldn't mind. i liked standing by the sidelines, preferring to be a part of the audience, rather than the performer. well, maybe for one, you don't goof you image off. (what's left of it, anyway.) so he was the enthusiastic monitor-to-be, i was the guy in the background. no quirks, no anomalies. we liked the way we were. then we went to sec school. he went to someone better than where i was going, and i was fine with that. until i met him today. i look back at all he has achieved. then i look at me. sure, i like the way i am, sure i like keeping a low profile, but he's living the life he wanted. then it dawned on me, maybe i could've been him. maybe i could've been the popular guy, maybe i could've been the super popular spastic guy with no social awareness. what could've been. so many chances, so many oppurtunities, and then, there were none.

crossing the overhead bridge coming back home, i realised something. that society really is something like a hive. yeah, come to think of it, your whole personality is based on society. how you look, how you dress, how you work, play, eat, sleep. i mean, you look good probably to get a mate(to put it really fundamentally), which benefits society when we procreate. you study, to benefit society, to make the 'world a better place'. you eat, sleep, play work all for this humongous hive. you do not go out of place. you don't murder, kill, rob, steal, rape, slaughter or torture not because you don't want to, but because you've been taught not to. everyone, no matter how distant, has a little piece of this human collective thought in him/her. even the gender thing is superimosed by society. but that's not the point. point is, you might not realise, but your identity and personality may not be yours. hm, say we talk about language. language is a tool of communication defined by society. 'i feel sad.' take this simple sentence. the very fact that you communicate using these very words, show that the idea itself is anonymous. just as how we are unable to fully express our ideas or feelings because language acts as a sort of template. 'there is a word for everything.' they say, but i beg to differ. there is a word for everything you know. get it?

heh, in any case, just remember, you're unique,
just like everyone else.

yeah. was wondering whether i was the only one who thought about this. apparently some french philosopher beat me to it a few hundred years ago. ah well, now i know i'm not. because now you do too. ponder away.
life goes on.

"the infinite possibilities inherently granted to the mind that thinks freely,
but also the insinuation of ideas that potential greatness rises
not so much from an affection or even fondness for a fellow man,
but rather a disdain, for it is a disgusted, not enamored individual,
who rises from the aforementioned masses to better the world.

Freed and discovered be can individual this hope only can we."

--the Anomalies.