Monday, 28 January 2008


My room flooded.

My carpets got soaked.

I hung my room out to dry.

Never has water been so uninvited, yet so present.

Never has there been more.

I hung myself out to dry.

I cried buckets...

I miss it

To watch the meniscus unsheathe

The grandeur of it


(found out that i'm not entirely a sociopath either... my emotions are unfeigned; at times. For what do you do when you find out that you're 100% incapable of emotions. to find out you're less than animal. what.)

-Damp captain

Thursday, 17 January 2008


This is what happens when you permit yourself to allow minute external factors to govern your perseverance and your rationale: you become a jobless bum.

It's a well deserved break that i embark upon, but as i sit here, insignificantly collecting dust and draining the scarce resources that line the outer walls of my bank account, i get worried to death. What's next? How many more anvils can paradise throw down?

I have muddled through this blog and it has sputtered out a trail of perturbation that hasn't pleased many and is not intended to, but in someways gives insight into how i've travelled from being a man who wanted to revisit his imperfections because he was turning into a yuppie, and finally into one who has not completely revisited anything, and is no longer a yuppie by means of unemployment. And in this course of time, i believe i deserve to take this time to


Not entirely la, i'm not 16 anymore. so i drew myself a tattoo of a rose. For the kid AND the woman in me (for my merry friends and readers, i'm still pertty much straight). And i have also discovered that i can complete the rubik's cube in under three minutes, that emotions truly are never relevant and that dried out cigars that have been at the back of your drawer for the past 7 months taste like burning a roll of newpapers. sure woke my lungs up.

So now, i will gladly present to you... uhm..... i'm out of wit. the pen-drawn rose on my arm.

Fear and Loathing in Joblessness...

where's everyone who's eyes held naive promises that they'll be there for you when you need a human tissue. no where in here. not home.

Thursday, 3 January 2008


Though my steps through life have been both slovenly and clumsy, I, as a human being have been granted the benefit of witnessing the harsh realities that bites down on the everyday person, shoved in my face with a rude vigor not unheard of, neither coveted.

And via these minute (albeit many) facets of chance, I have watched testament after testament that people are easier inclined to obtain traits that are deemed brave, be it in a positive manner or otherwise. It’s general knowledge (although it does not apply to all) that people act in the interest of acceptance, either by a group of peers or by a single other person. And you will hear a great number of denials after this statement saying that “I do this because I believe in helping others”; “I BELIEVE” is the phrase that drives the deed, as the individual strives to convey this image of him/herself as being gold-hearted.

Of course there are the few in which these do not apply.

And this brings us to the knowledge that the reason why we refuse to perform great deeds, is because whatever great deeds we perform are paled in comparison to the glorification of, say the man who signs over the HUGE cheque, or the woman who invented sustainable cold fusion so Russia can live throughout their winters.

When a man is easily inspired to entirely alter their perceptions towards certain aspects based on the convergences of little moments of what we could call divine afflatus, why is it so strongly prevalent, the ongoing idea that mankind will be influenced by great deeds of men/women/child/hermaphrodite of whom are forced into being heroes of circumstance whom are then publicized and commercialized, when it is those who perform tiny acts of altruism driven by nothing other than choice that create the heavyset difference that inspires people to adopt momentary disregards of self…


WORRSSHIIPP MEEE!!! Haaaakakakakakaka

Sorry. The espresso chocolates have kept me awake and I have jabbered senselessness into the night. I have currently 5 incomplete items that I wish to post, but I am stopped by the fact that:

1. The items are incomplete
2. I can't complete them because i'm uninspired
3. Espresso Chocolates
4. I can't remember
5. As Truman Capote once said, failure is the condiment that gives success it's flavour.

: )

Happy reading & Sleep tight,
your sailor-boy (regulated)