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Lebarcham

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[Wednesday
July 8th, 2009 at 12:17am]

It's a little strange, this big world and it's limitations.

In all the bizarre winds of change, the guillotine whose shadow we've never wanted to notice - fuck, the mischance and mishappenings, the fucking fear when every human achievement is not a foundation but a thread to hang on to, a piece of ice that may float or shatter without a firm base that may leave the individual to suffer.

Wrote a drabble of random awhile ago. For apathy and her warm, ambivalent embrace.

"They've got a little dream on, but I've got bedbugs in the brain…"

Gehen patted his friend on the head and waddled down to bed. Two little men kissed on the TV screen, enraptured in the hormones of a million dreams of mattering. No, they weren't going to Hollywood; but they'd spread around the world these days, making a little boys and girls dream of bigger things.

"See you in the morning, lovely." She's got a load to do, see, words to shoot out from the tips of her fingers, art to drip from her brain through her eyes on solid, waiting canvas. Oh there's so much to wait for, so much to do! She settles down to stare at a blank page for a minute or two – and her laptop for the next seven hours, flicking through video to video of other people's vapid dreams. Somehow it's always a little surprise waking up to another lost time. Vaguely remembering a time when she'd cry about the swift passing of moments, she trips over to bed.

"G'morning sweets," she murmurs in his waking ear, crawling in to enjoy the warmth he created.

"Mmm."

And he's tripping off to another day, with bedbugs nestled in his brain. Bed to go; go to bed, waiting for the noon-time, dusk and finally the sweet feeling he was just feeling now; a warm bed after a night time of sleeping.

Sing it

[Wednesday
March 25th, 2009 at 6:45pm]
http://housebigbang.panfandom.ca/artwork/kirili.htm#one

Art'd.

Title: Bucket.

For Go Baby Go.




SPOILER ALERT HELLO:

Wilson in drag. CONVINCINGLY. Gorgeous.

Lala.

Any and all criticism (constructive preferred) very much adored. Do tell me what I'm doing wrong, and for a bonus, how to fix it. Thank you.
4 comments|Sing it

[Saturday
December 6th, 2008 at 12:32am]


"What Just Happened?" I dismissed before I saw the film, which was a good mindset to see it in. That's where the poignancy lies – your mindset. Who the watcher is, what they expected and how they interpret all of it. The acting is superb, the plot points are dull to write out and yet the writing is ambivalent. Towards you, the watcher, the writing is… ambivalent. I don't know what they writers' intention was, but the subtle beauty of the "show not tell" approach shines out. Each character in their interplay loses the irritating shine of the cliché they represent. The acting is superb… from the guy who plays Taub in House to the director of the Sean Penn movie to Sean Penn to the big white dog. There are so many tells from so many small moments to highlight the contribution of the individual to the general vacuousness of what was supposed to be Art but it is really just another Business. The way that someone who tries to do everything the best way they know how can fail so terribly. And how, at the core of it all, days pass by us.

Also, I've been going joggingwalking. And uh. Studying.

Rest in peace Martin. We'll always love you.

And. "The Last King of Scotland" is a facinating portrayal of corruption.

Take care.

Sing it

[Thursday
December 4th, 2008 at 12:57am]


motorcyclehunk House/tatto gorgeous hooker lady LOVE. Andand Kutner/Taub cuddly love. Also AWESOME funny ep. POW kind of couldn't act, but since most of the POWs act pretty awesome that's okay.

Also Wilson would join in the sexyfuntimes. Yes, House is sexy Cuddy, but dammit you want a man with suicidal tendencies and a drug habit that is trashing his organs to have babies with you?

DRABBLE.

"So no more gorgeous caring woman to take care of you?"

He squinted at her. "My liver's going to fail… yesterday. Yeah, if I care about someone I should get into a co-dependent relationship with them right now."

With a limp and a hoist he mounted the bike and she jumped on behind him, hugging him through the leather. He revved and settled back, feeling the thrill of the bike rolling forward into a roar.

Human beings may be made to adjust, but House prided himself in his resistance to change. Yet after five or six years he'd learned his moods weren't so different… a beautiful tatoo'd underling behind him, the roaring bike between his legs and the ever blowing wind still got his endorphins going. To adjust to charming a hooker into camaraderie from the constant of a dedicated girlfriend wasn't difficult. He's solving his cases, he's enjoying what he can of his life and he's got Wilson to hug him through the inevitable failing of his organs into what he still likes to think of as eternal rest. He's going to live this shitbucket until the bottom gives out and they'll fucking remember him for it.


ANYWAY, AHAH YAY HOUSE. Ah Hugh Laurie, you and your animal sex appeal.

3 comments|Sing it

[Wednesday
November 5th, 2008 at 9:07pm]

Despite my misgivings, I got sucked into this celebrating of Obama winning the election. He's a second generation Kenyan-American whose family was in Hawaii and spent four years in Indonesia learning about Islam and he won.

But is this just a symbolic win?

I was on the phone to a Pakistani woman and, forgetting the world, I asked if they were happy that Obama won. But Obama… will not hesitate to keep bombing Pakistan because saying the truth, that bombing only creates people who are willing to die in the fighting against their opressers, that bombing a country with political patheticness and natural disasters and human beings is WRONG, that bombing a people because there MIGHT be some people there who are against the US, that the horrors being perpetrated on the Pakistani people is WRONG.

Barrack Obama will not say that because he will lose popularity for saying it.

Obama wants to send more troops to kill Afghanis.

I wish I could just be happy for this history day, for the symbolic shift from slavery to equality, but the world is still suffering in three of its nations because of the USA, as well as the legacies from the wars started in the Koreas, in Vietnam, in Cambodia, the overthrowing of democracy in Chile… the war perpetrated on innocent Iraqis.

Put the war criminals on trial. Give so semblance of justice, give reparatioin for the damages, as much as America can. Because their victory can still stand to be the world's further loss.

American politics and their symbols are shining. But the blood still flows from the people they are torturing, the lands they are stealing from and the masses they massacre. There's always hope, right? Stop killing people USA, it's not okay. It's not even a little bit alright. In fact, they are war crimes and crimes against humanity.
Sing it

Seeking for the American Conscience [Sunday
September 28th, 2008 at 2:41pm]

As a foreign national and a human being I've had to cover my ears and cry my eyes out more than once at the crimes the United States of America has perpetrated on the world at large.

Now, close to choosing your next set of violent murderers you all seem very preoccupied with their skin colours, past killing records (one has in fact killed in Vietnam!) and the fact that both vice presidential candidates are idiots - one is a better idiot though, and in the land of the blind the one eyed man is king blah blah.

Why aren't you asking why you're bombing Pakistan? Yes, you. Ask for solid reasons why destroying parts of a country where the rule of law has already broken down will help. You’re responsible, it’s your money funding their deaths.

Ask why the government was so demented that it wanted to take the writ of habeas corpus away from torture victims in Guantano Bay. Ask why America has gotten away scot free from the killings of countless Afghanis and Iraqis.

Ask what these candidates will do to ask the world forgiveness for the war crimes of the United States of America and what they will do to rectify these wrongs.

Henry Kissinger is a respected man in your country. He's a war criminal out here in the world.

Mr. Bush and co. will have a nice rest after their 8 years of terror, with nary a word of apology for the hundreds of thousands of lives ended and ruined by their politics.

The American people haven't cared enough to properly protest. Make fun of these officials all you want - it's the rest of the world that has to die for your choices.

Melodramatic? Tell that to the people of Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Chile, the Koreas, Vietnam, Palestine, Cambodia and on and on and on.

Whoever you elect, stop them from killing people out here in the rest of the world. 19 people bombed the trade towers. The thousands that were killed that day, in their name you've killed hundreds of thousands. 9/11 was about 1/4 of a day in places like Iraq and Afghanistan that the USA happily bombs for years.

Please start to give a shit. I know we're brown and insignificant in your big American lives, and when we die you get richer... but here's seeking out the conscience of the American people, if the shreds of the thing that was present during the Vietnam war still exists.


(ONTD_political rejected this post: the mod "agrees" but doesn't think ONTD_political is the place. I'd be offended but I'm more "..." tbh.)

11 comments|Sing it

[Saturday
September 27th, 2008 at 10:31pm]


I was just thinking about an arguement I had with someone on the internets about using the word "miscenogation" as a prompt for fanfiction.

It's like using the word "caste". The horror that both words conjure is immense.

But the idea - why it happened, the philosophy of it, the sociology of it, how it's applied in so many different ways - that's a facinating idea.

And by banning its use for ficcers of any time I think is a restriction of free thought.

As well as the supression of a historical but also flawed thought that could arise in situations nowadays.

It's not like racism is dead. It's not like people are still not thought of as animals in some parts of the world. I don't think it's logical to supress the idea of exploring the term metaphorically, see how many many people use understand the term, how they can show the thinking and the flaws in it.

What's the point of supressing that?

No point, that's what.
3 comments|Sing it

[Friday
September 26th, 2008 at 9:39pm]
[Title]: Husk
[Summary]: Just two old vagabonds trying to make sense.

A/N: Any and all of your thoughts appreciated. Looking to improve :D.

More importantly, thank you very much to [info]lurker_of_note for her looking through this... aaand putting up with me. Apologies for my rushing lovely, and thank you.





so please
lets take these broken hearts, and use
lets use only what we really need
you know we only have so little, so please
take these broken hearts and leave


- Cocoon by Jack Johnson.

I done an odd. )
3 comments|Sing it

[Tuesday
September 23rd, 2008 at 11:04pm]


Driving through the curving roads on a rainforest path, the man behind the wheel who comes as often as he can to spend a night or two in the forest tells us that in the forest he feels small.

"You usually feel very big then?" I crudely make a crack.

"No, it's not like that…"

"It's a joke, just a joke…" I try to play it down. That good feeling of smallness was there, but I didn't know how to explain it.

But listening to Jon Stewart talk about a man he admires, using these words:

"You make me feel small. You make me want to be better. And to have that effect on people, I think that's best gift you can give to those around you."
- Jon Stewart

I think I've found some small way of what it feels like in the sheer utterness of the rainforest, as an ambling observer.

The rainforest makes you feel small. It makes you want to be better.

Sing it

[Monday
September 22nd, 2008 at 7:45pm]


Law is ridiculously interesting. Tort law, at least. That was the one I was told would be boring. Contract law isn't interesting, nope nope.

Anyway. I've been getting more and more into research these few days, research on Sri Lanka. Everybody knows something is terribly wrong and people are just too overwhelmed with knowing it to record it, because. Well, because it's a ridiculous thing to expect hope en mass when you never knew where to get it. They never really knew democracy, so they know it's wrong but there's no collective idea of what's right.

Sri Lanka was colonized since about the 8th Century AD, by India (Hindus), then Portuguese (Catholic) then Dutch (Protestant, methinks), then British (confused, but also took the trouble to go and kill the king and properly subjugate the country).

So there was no place for art to really develop, art that can be called Sri Lankan. There was Michael Ontaaje's Anil's Ghost to record a part of the horror of the 1980s, some writing by Martin Wickramasinghe, but generally the horror has gone... on and on and on, and nobody really analysed it overmuch. www.disappearences.org has an attempt...

How South Asia is churning comes to Hong Kong in bits and pieces. Stories of tragedies and near collisions, almost-victims and victims of bomb blasts, police brutality, extra-judicial killings.

On the day before yesterday morning, 10 a.m. Nishantha Fernando was shot while he was in his van with his 11 year old son. The son was physically unhurt. Nishantha Fernando was pronounced dead in Negambo hospital, Sri Lanka. RIP Nishantha Fernando.

On Janaka Perera, the general responsible on the deaths of many, many people in the 1980's... an idea of his depraved mind.

And more on this sad case.

some thoughts on Sri Lanka )

a poem )

Sing it

[Saturday
September 13th, 2008 at 1:02pm]


Fuck, really. I thought it was dangerous that Obama was talking about being willing to bomb Pakistan, but I was being a naive fool - because for two weeks now they've decided to OFFICIALLY (after all this time! Acknowledgment, oh.) murder Pakistanis, irrespective of age, gender, eye colour or job.

Thank you, USA. Murder SHOULD come to random places where there MIGHT be random people who don't like you! And everyone around them must die too!

It's shocking that nobody went "okay, anything that stinks of what we did in Vietnam will. not. happen. again."

Fucking bastards.

" * September 3, 2008 - Helicopter-borne American Special Operations Forces land and open fire on the Pakistani village of Jalal Khel killing 20 people including women and children. No high value targets killed.

* September 4, 2008 - American missile strike on the village of Mohammad Khel. Officials say all five people killed were low-level militants of Arab origin. No high value targets killed.

* September 5, 2008 - American unmanned aircraft fire three missiles at houses in Kurvek in North Waziristan. Local TV channels report women and children among the dead. No high value targets killed.

* September 8, 2008 - Five missiles fired from American pilotless aircraft hit Sirajuddin Haqqani compound in North Waziristan killing 23 people, including 8 children. High-value targets Sirajuddin and his father Jalaluddin Haqqani are not present at the compound at the time of the strikes although two other mid-level operatives were killed. No high-value targets killed .

There is now a clear pattern of unilateral U.S. military action in Pakistan resulting in disproportionate and unacceptably high levels of civilian casualties without any commensurate success in terminating high-value targets. It is in the interest of U.S. national security and for the security and stability in the region that these actions be halted immediately."

This all rings of that poem by Pastor Martin Niemöller

First they came for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Communist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up,
because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn’t speak up,
because I was a Protestant. (See above)
Then they came for me, and by that time there was no one left
to speak up for me.

To be replaced by the Vietnamese, the Afganis, the Iraqis, the Pakistanis... and they're coming closer and closer. People spoke up for the Vietnamese and it stopped further bloodshed, but they didn't force the US to help repair the wounds it caused to the nation. The Afganis got a little sympathy, the Iraqis got some too, and now maybe the Pakistanis will get some bleeding heart platitudes too... but fuckdammit, why is the US allowed to continue like this?

Sing it

[Saturday
August 9th, 2008 at 5:00pm]


May be visiting the british colonial land! I hope nobody says "English Tea" in a non-sarcastic way.

... thought of a man I met in India, a toilet-cleaner in a washroom. But I didn't have any money to give him. I was told that he... hung about, cleaning the loo, but he wasn't employed there.

Anyway. Started painting a painting and wrote a poem.

love laws )

Title comes from the book by Arundhati Roy, "The God of Small Things", which is the quite possibly the best thing ever. A contender.

Anyway.

How're you doing?

Take care.
Sing it

[Monday
July 28th, 2008 at 11:56am]


So. So yeah, they're making my cousin get married. They said she consented but excuse me if I don't believe them.

She told me she wanted to get her education. I don't know if she was just... saying that, because it was obvious I wanted to hear it, but she said it, and if was in that quiet scary voice she uses now, the one that sounds all floaty and she refuses to speak any louder like she think it doesn't matter what she says.

She had an affair with a 42 year old man so they pulled her out of school and now she doesn't even have her O-Levels (failed the first time) and was basically put under house arrest at an uncle's house, her mother sent away, and now they're getting her married.

This is the kid whose father died when she was young so they were moved out of the main house into the annexe and raised by a confused mother.

I feel like I could die from how unfair that is.

7 comments|Sing it

[Saturday
July 26th, 2008 at 2:45pm]


Visited Kerela, India again.

Came back, got a fever, lost the interest in stuffing my face all the time. It's quite interesting.

The power goes out, but nobody stopped making meter-long tea or slicing pieces of banana into the oil vat. Nobody really minds, it's just a daily Thing, and after a while you stop noticing it. The first time the power goes out and you're on the toilet and you're not so sure everything will be lit in 30 seconds may be a little harrowing, but there's something so utterly inconsequential about it.

And then you realise why, panicking because in the little place you stop to have breakfast there's one of the most magnificent drawings in the Disney Tarzan film come to life out one side and monkeys and cars and a public bathroom that, quite frankly, scares the shit out of you on the other… the view is spectacular. A waterfall surrounded by forest. A forest that randomly rustles, that goes over mountains, flowing over everything. And they tell you that you're following the river back, the waterfall's river, back down to its source… following the monkeys and the almost-empty roads, the bamboo groves and all the while you're panicking because they said you have to walk inside the rainforest.

Have you ever seen a leech? They're… not much. But they're terrifying after about the… first story of them sliding up vaginas and penises. And so the whole trip is spent panicking, panicking about bloodsucking leeches and life taking snakes and all sorts of other things you're defenceless against.

And then you're inside the rainforest, on an inconsequential road, hoping the elephants don't burst out of wherever they're hiding and charge… but you kind of want to see them, because they're… mysterious and massive and they don't care in the least about you.

Winding and winding down the road towards sea level, the trunk is left open for a moment too long and a monkey has the bananas. And you watch in wonder as at least twenty of them come in single file, 'round the corner or down the mountain or… and you're racing away but you want to stay because wow.

And then you're driving through a city again and into a different kind of forest, the yellow grass kind, with fleet-footed Bambi deer and you've seen three types of monkeys on this trip… one types near people, another type in the rainforest and yet another in the yellow, more knee-high forests. And you don't know yet, but there are peacocks waiting to show themselves on the trip back.

2 comments|Sing it

[Monday
June 9th, 2008 at 8:58pm]

AH my... journal of not-many-personages. That is okay.

Arse over nose and all that, trying to convince myself that waking up, eating, sleeping, waking up, eating, going to the library, sleeping, waking up, eating and now going off to bed while constantly watching shows was not a useless waste of time in a long weekend.

... I. Haven't done ANYTHING the least bit useful. No, that's not true. I printed out a vaguely useful form for someone else. Tootlefruit.
1 comment|Sing it

[Wednesday
January 2nd, 2008 at 10:43pm]

I don't know what to say.

Five people died in a bomb blast set by the LTTE. Five people, I thought. Five, the LTTE have done worse. The Sri Lankan army has assassinated one man (or. someone in the govt. has. A Tamil MP killed in a Hindu Temple) and killed 25 or so Tamils during their fighting, we could have had worse than five.

Except. Except two of those five people were kids. One kid's birthday was yesterday. They had a huge celebration. And then. The next day. He was blown up. The mother was crying and asking "is this what I had your birthday for, son?"

I don't know what to say.

Sing it

[Tuesday
July 31st, 2007 at 12:54pm]


I'm not sure what I expected from myself when I lugged arse and a laptop to this place, but if efficiency and productivity was it, then I must be sorely disappointed. Which I am. So good, we understand myself.

Well, perhaps I tell a lie. What I wanted was for me to be able to Whizz Through things and write eloquent, grade-grabbing essays that would drive my professors and examiners to tears and me into UCL.

Sadly, I am still a fat slob with, quite possibly, much less potential than she is told she has, and also the attention span of... something with a short attention span. I would challenge a goldfish, I would, but I would never truly be able to reconcile myself to the fact that the goldfish might just... have a different way of expressing its twitchiness and... moving on. Can't seem to sustain the thread of thoughtliness.

And also, also, also. I have this terrible fear that I am being uselessly used by a German. Some part of me is quite alright with that... after all, it means I'm useful to SOMEBODY, even an arsewipe. But I am irked. IRKED. And a little glad to be irked.

School starts in three weeks. I have a year of Physics, a year of French and a year of History to hack through before that time. And three pieces of coursework.

Now, any blithering fool amongst the... none that are reading this... could point out that that is plenty of time, you whiny bitch. But I appear to have two, contradicting, and perhaps even instinctual reactions to the time frame: HOMG PROCRASTINATION TIME and I'M GOING TO FAIL AND DIE A HERMIT.

Currently I'm on the former. But my shoulders are on the latter and I have a tension headache, so... I guess my head is on the latter too. My... nose. It is comfortable, if a little cold.

Oh, also! I have lost weight. Not a significant amount of weight. I don't look any more enticing, no. Which is telling quite a depressing tale in and of itself, no?

It would be fabulous if I could concentrate on writing my Extended Essay, but I cannot even seem to figure out if I, myself, am an emotional individual who reacts with that emotion to social injustices and, by that merit, and somewhat Deep. A part of me CLINGS to that hope like a batter to his testicles if he has forgotten his cup, but it is quite possibly untrue. Untrue that I am that moved. But not untrue that BEING that moved displays a deep sense of Humanitiness.

I... don't want to go back to school. Social circles fill me with Dread.

But I will go and bother the counselor.
1 comment|Sing it

[Monday
July 30th, 2007 at 12:31pm]


HELLO. Remember when I used to type Vaguely Comprehensive Garble about Motivations and Plans? Well. I am afraid that I have come to another peak of boring, self-obsessed feelings about... SCHOOLWORK.

But. Do you know, have you heard, do you CARE that it is, in fact, 22 days until school begins?

Or. I thought I wanted to talk about schoolwork. But really, I'd rather tell you, since you are a non-existent but pleasant entourage, that I'm quite achey in the head. I woke up at five, had an intriguing call with nature, and then slept again. When I woke up a second time I stood up, and then BAM HEADACHE AND VERTIGO AND BLACKINGOUTNESS. Perhaps I listen to too much music?

ANYWAY. I'm going to go... do things. Soon. Probably.

Take care of yourselves, my blithering harem of Hughs.
Sing it

[Sunday
July 29th, 2007 at 10:46pm]


Ah, whiny posts about lack of friends! I MISSED YOU.

Every. Single. Schoolfriend. Treats me like an expendable piece of crap, or an acquaintance.

I'm... so fucking tired of this. So damn tired.

There's no way I'm going to throw myself at these so called friends of mine again. I'd rather stab myself.

Being paranoid isn't the worst thing, I suppose. It's just that you have to STICKWITHIT instead of "emotionally invest".

I'm BAFFLED that I'm still doing this. Don't get me wrong, I don't consider myself a prize catch, but I. I never thought I'd be this horribly lonely. I had big plans for 17.

Oh, fuck it. I'll make this public, as some sort of humiliation that COULD be read by somebody I know. So I don't let it happen again.

Sing it

[Saturday
July 28th, 2007 at 9:30pm]


Oh! I want to go to UCL. I want to act in Things. But they would (plz) like 38 points in the IB... no matter which way I twist it, I'm going to HAVE to pass Physics to even have a CHANCE at that.

But I have this ubercool fantasy that Fry and Laurie will come and watch me one day, wearing false moustaches so we can Laugh but not Bother them andand. I'm not quite blithering enough to assume they would LIKE me, but being in a place where they were would be fabulous.

ANYWAY. Did some EE. "The Bell Jar" is an amazing book. The use of imagery is... perfect.

So I'm going go to go Attempt to Study.

*huggum*
Sing it

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