Public Statement: I am ambivalent towards my results.

All too often, I want to be the knight in shining armour.

Unfortunately, I tend to come across as the damsel in distress.

Oh well. Two-for-one lover for hire.

I don't understand how anyone can love rainy days.

How do you appreciate the gloominess that comes as thunderclouds gather? As they block out the blue sky, garnering darkness that becomes so oppressive it weighs down on the trees, birds, edging in on everything, rushing towards the inevitable point: self.

The rain comes and the cold, the cold. Being caught in the rain is all fine and dandy, the feeling of submitting oneself to the elements. But in your four-walled apartment, when the chill enters the room and the flip the switch for the florescent light, while the rain is outside tapping on your window. The chaos outside, trees dancing in a wild frenzy, flowers tossed by the wind, the man-made landscape in a rebellious fit of vitality.

You, inside. Cold, and alone with your dry desk and an empty picture frame.

When it rains, the heavens part and shed life-giving sorrow to the land. But I feel more isolated, more alone. I can only sit at the window-ledge, knees tucked in, and gaze wistfully outside.

The cold, the cold. It oozes through your every pore and sets in your bones, reminding you that your body alone is not enough to keep you warm.

For some odd reason I find that I've very little to say whenever I come here nowadays, so much that when I see the white box I just type something random like "I'm bored" and decide that it isn't worth posting too many random one-liner entries.

It appears that today isn't one of those cases.

But any old how, I think that's probably because I've been too preoccupied with prelims to let my mind wander about the usual mopeydopey subjects. Prelims have been terrorizing most of my brainspace, leaving me little time to think about love and other such womanly issues that make for good blogging material.

Which is not a good thing, seeing how Lit S looms tomorrow. I humbly assert that I'm probably sufficiently prepared for a love question, but other than that I have no idea what I'm going to write about! I tried finding books that gave depressing perspectives on the human condition, but (and I know this is a very lame excuse) I haven't had time to read them! I probably wouldn't get through them anyway, I'll just huddle up in the middle of the book and cry into my blanky. I know I got very upset after reading Bell Jar (okay technically that isn't the futility of human condition, it's just whiny teenage angst, but still. It's powerful whiny stuff.)

Stupid girl fluff.

Jeanette Winterson is, however, very good. She is teh love guru, and she pwns everyone, and makes me happy in my bed eating chocolate under the sheets. See. Out there someone understands, that love is wanting to destroy and be destroyed. (Oranges are not the only fruit)

1 more day!

(unofficially)

When prelims are over we can go dance ourselves away.

Liebe.



Omgomg fantastic techno track. WheeE!

I think that my physical self is going to fall apart. I can't sleep at 2 AM, I'm constantly thirsty, and I think I'm having the runs.

I must be willing myself into non-existence as a self-defence mechanism against prelims.

Anyway, I was thinking about ladder theory a few hours back, and, of course, wondering about the validity of its assertion with respect to girls being bitches. Are girls really power-grubbing bitches who will only take men who can give them as much as possible? Or is there some truth the the other attributes that they so often claim to be attracted to?

Part 1: Sincerity

Girls often claim that sincerity moves mountains. As though their hearts were mountains. Although some of them are fat enough to be.

Anyway! Sincerity. Yes it is often said that if a guy shows himself to be sincere enough, a girl's heart can be moved from the dark pits of despise to that warm fuzzy feeling, love. It is as though sincerity was some otherworldy quality that can drive the girl's thoughts away from her worldy concerns to accept him.

Nonsense.

What is sincerity to a girl? It is constant affection, sending gifts every occassion, writing cards constantly, buying roses every date. One must note, however, that the feeling that she is constantly on the mind of the other can swing both ways. What one girl calls sincerity, another calls desperation. Which term the girl chooses, is highly dependent on how ready she was to accept him in the first place.

Because sincerity is simply how much the guy is prepared (or thinks he is prepared) to give for the girl. (Not To, For.) And, surprise surprise, this is of course limited by how much the guy CAN give in the first place! The poor pauper cannot afford to be sincere! Girls cite stories of guys waiting at house gates in the pouring rain, but really now, doesn't the poor pauper have money to earn instead of sitting like some lovesick fool at a girl's gate? It takes more than a few hours of rain to wash away the petty complaints of a girl.

The truth is, the claim to sincerity is a sneaky ploy by girls to continue making themselves desirable to as many guys as possible. Sincerity is like the stick that dangles the carrot (the carrot here being the girl herself, for those of you who fail to see the metaphor). It drives the stupid donkey, and the idiot animal never realizes that he is being led. He believes he is fulfilling some higher ideal of sincerity, that he is allowing the girl look past worldy concerns into the deep richness of his heart. He is also, egregariously, an ass.

There is no one in love who will say his love his false, and no one whose love is false will let his prey think otherwise. Sincerity is a wasted word in these proceedings.