Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Finally. And the vissitudes of time.
So today I finally procured the latest Pain album - Cynic Paradise, around a month after the official release, thanks to the incompetent customs and crap along that line. So, I laid my hands upon the jewel case with high expectations of the contents that lie within for I hope it will at least be on par with Psalms Of Extinction, Tagtgren's previous work. I went back home and sampled the disc seriously and yet with an open mind, as usual for what I do for the new CDs I bought.
Ok, I got to put aside the fangirl aspect of this whole issue and admit only half the songs inside the album caught my ears' elusive and extremely picky in nature attention, namely, "I'm Going In", "Follow Me", "Monkey Business", "Not Your Kind", "Feed Us". The whole album just gives me the feeling of "Dancing with the Dead" CD, with equal amount of highs and lows. Maybe I should give concession to the fact that Tagtgren had a traumatising incidence when he got attacked during tour and that making one album in each year consectively would have detrimental effects on the quality of the songs.
Other things on my mind include the urge to visit the beach at night, just to sit at the breakwaters and feel as though the world is about to end when the sea breezes come sweeping at you at high velocity, as Matyn so aptly put it. To gather inspiration and ideas for a flourish video that is loosely based on Albert Camus' Myth of Sisyphus, hard to execute, but I will see what I can pull off. And, lastly, waiting for the Subway outlet to open at my workplace now - Tan Tock Seng Hospital, so I can make myself bankrupt like never before. Yipee!
I was lamenting yesterday on how terrible it was to feel the jarring speed of a variable called time, so fast it was, I could no longer differentiate with ease of incidences and the people related to each different times. I used to be able to compartmentalise that very easily without any effort. And that seriously freaked the fuck out of me; it just left me gasping in the dust caused by the passing of time feeling extremely spaced out. I was still learning how to deal with my sudden career path due to the unsuccessful university application; to deal with life after A Levels, which were back in March or April this year. Now. *looks at calender* 3rd December 2008, 9.22pm. I have less than 20 odd days left in the year 2008. 20 odd days. 20. Then, it will be 2009. That will be 4 years since I left secondary school, 4 years since I got acquainted with a teacher/best friend that hugely influenced my way of thinking and character, 3 years since my brush with brash love and a certain someone (I have moved on ever since, don't worry, just using this as a gauge of time), 2 years since junior college. Now, I will be forever stuck with a thing called radiography, which appeared itself out of nowhere and stuck its face in mine without prior warning. Unless, I picked up my guts, place them in a bag and head to a destination that I could literally die for - social sciences, and more especially Philosophy. Dreamy sigh. I can only sigh.
I seriously dislike the feeling of time spinning so fast that you'll get motion sickness from it, which renders you all weakened and in a depressive reverie, which in turn let time take advantage of the situation again and pass by you even faster than before. That is why I have a long-term resolution that I read and learn and observe and appreciate and understand things as much as I could before I get one year older every year. So much so, I think I will be bored of most things before I reach the age of 25.
At this point of time, I would like to introduce this German romantic painting done by Casper David Friedrich - Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog.
Just see how the protagonist of this painting, who stands on top of a high precipice, peering above and beyond the minute details and absorbing the grandeur and beauty of the scenery; at the same time, the vast and immense quality of the scenery glares back at him - a lone human being. A human being so very insignificiant compared to the nature. In addition, one can never be sure of what lies beneath those torrents of fog, worsening the idea of danger and uncertainity. The human's idea to absorb beauty and find grace are ruined, made into an irony. I leave this to your reverie to discern.
I swear reveries are spawns of a greater evil. I was in mine just now and my ice cream just melted. Fuck. >_> ¶ 7:53 pm
Ok, I got to put aside the fangirl aspect of this whole issue and admit only half the songs inside the album caught my ears' elusive and extremely picky in nature attention, namely, "I'm Going In", "Follow Me", "Monkey Business", "Not Your Kind", "Feed Us". The whole album just gives me the feeling of "Dancing with the Dead" CD, with equal amount of highs and lows. Maybe I should give concession to the fact that Tagtgren had a traumatising incidence when he got attacked during tour and that making one album in each year consectively would have detrimental effects on the quality of the songs.
Other things on my mind include the urge to visit the beach at night, just to sit at the breakwaters and feel as though the world is about to end when the sea breezes come sweeping at you at high velocity, as Matyn so aptly put it. To gather inspiration and ideas for a flourish video that is loosely based on Albert Camus' Myth of Sisyphus, hard to execute, but I will see what I can pull off. And, lastly, waiting for the Subway outlet to open at my workplace now - Tan Tock Seng Hospital, so I can make myself bankrupt like never before. Yipee!
I was lamenting yesterday on how terrible it was to feel the jarring speed of a variable called time, so fast it was, I could no longer differentiate with ease of incidences and the people related to each different times. I used to be able to compartmentalise that very easily without any effort. And that seriously freaked the fuck out of me; it just left me gasping in the dust caused by the passing of time feeling extremely spaced out. I was still learning how to deal with my sudden career path due to the unsuccessful university application; to deal with life after A Levels, which were back in March or April this year. Now. *looks at calender* 3rd December 2008, 9.22pm. I have less than 20 odd days left in the year 2008. 20 odd days. 20. Then, it will be 2009. That will be 4 years since I left secondary school, 4 years since I got acquainted with a teacher/best friend that hugely influenced my way of thinking and character, 3 years since my brush with brash love and a certain someone (I have moved on ever since, don't worry, just using this as a gauge of time), 2 years since junior college. Now, I will be forever stuck with a thing called radiography, which appeared itself out of nowhere and stuck its face in mine without prior warning. Unless, I picked up my guts, place them in a bag and head to a destination that I could literally die for - social sciences, and more especially Philosophy. Dreamy sigh. I can only sigh.
I seriously dislike the feeling of time spinning so fast that you'll get motion sickness from it, which renders you all weakened and in a depressive reverie, which in turn let time take advantage of the situation again and pass by you even faster than before. That is why I have a long-term resolution that I read and learn and observe and appreciate and understand things as much as I could before I get one year older every year. So much so, I think I will be bored of most things before I reach the age of 25.
At this point of time, I would like to introduce this German romantic painting done by Casper David Friedrich - Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog.
Just see how the protagonist of this painting, who stands on top of a high precipice, peering above and beyond the minute details and absorbing the grandeur and beauty of the scenery; at the same time, the vast and immense quality of the scenery glares back at him - a lone human being. A human being so very insignificiant compared to the nature. In addition, one can never be sure of what lies beneath those torrents of fog, worsening the idea of danger and uncertainity. The human's idea to absorb beauty and find grace are ruined, made into an irony. I leave this to your reverie to discern.I swear reveries are spawns of a greater evil. I was in mine just now and my ice cream just melted. Fuck. >_> ¶ 7:53 pm
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That painting was in my Slovene textbook next to a sonnet from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage by Lord Byron. :) I love that poem. Especially the second part. :) Though, it sounds better in Slovene, god knows why.
XXV
To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene,
Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o’er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude; ’tis but to hold
Converse with Nature’s charms, and view her stores unroll’d.
XXVI
But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world’s tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all that flatter’d, follow’d, sought, and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude.
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XXV
To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene,
Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o’er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude; ’tis but to hold
Converse with Nature’s charms, and view her stores unroll’d.
XXVI
But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess,
And roam along, the world’s tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all that flatter’d, follow’d, sought, and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude.
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