if i had words

you and i are an enigma,
trapped within time,
you and i are fragments,
of the same mind,

if i had words to speak,
what would i say to you?,
if i had words to sing,
what melody would i use?,

if all the world were mine,
what could i give you?,
if all things were known to me,
what would i know about you?,

i have only these simple words,
and this simple rhyme,
i have only these hands,
to take yours in mine,

hide your face against my chest,
your hair from your face i slowly brush,
and feel the warmth of your breath,
while our heartbeats flutter as emotions rush,

i will speak to you these little words,
i will say to you this simple rhyme,
i am yours,
and you are mine,

the cyclic post

It has been sometimes since I've actually written out a proper post. I've been seeding this place with my silly poetry but none of my more literal thoughts. Either way I don't think anyone reads this crap and so I guess it doesn't really make much difference what I post.

With that bit of self-deprecation out of the way I'll move on to more substantial things. Turmoil has once again flooded my mind as it seems to do when the semester draws close to an end. Once again I feel like I'm bleeding out from a wound I cannot close, a wound that I've inflicted on myself. I'm clever like that and mildly masochistic. The curious who read this blog might wonder what that wound is, if you're looking for details you're out of luck because even I'm having a hard time figuring out what it is. All I know is this, I'm bleeding out and slowly drowning in a pool of my own bloody effluence with no life line in sight. A dramatic description I know but then again what would this blog be without its drama.

I feel stretched thin like the skin over a drum. Flayed and abuse, I've grown to see myself as a husk that houses an empty void inside. My mother would argue that is because I've abandon my faith and my God and have chosen to pursue nothingness. That might very well be the case, still I can't find it in me to want to have anything to do with God or church or faith. It would seem I lost that life and now my mind is too distorted to believe in it. I'm looking for something to spark in me a new fire but I guess I'm looking in the wrong place. All I really do is sigh about things without pro-actively changing anything.

Furthermore my head is in a bind, the details of which I won't disclose as I feel talking about them won't do me any good. Not in this space at least. This will have to suffice, I'm scared. So very scared of the choice I must make and what that may lead to. I can't make a mistake this time as it would cause more things to go wrong than already have. Generating more suffering into an already abundantly filled swirling vortex of entropy, one that looms before me. My mind is clouded and diffused. I don't know what I want. On the one hand I have an idea or a notion that I'm chasing and a fact that I'm trying to deny. My mind is terribly torn by what I know to be the truth and the lie I wish I could delude myself into believing. Time might resolve this conflict, it may not. The little part of me that enjoys a slice of irony hopes while the rest of me continues to struggle with my inner and stupid conflicts.

My hope is evanescent, a time numbered by my choices thus far. My future seems bleak as I cannot peer beyond the grey mist that has shroud my path. I cannot look beyond it and no light can seem to break through. Some days I feel like I'm drowning in the misery I have created and apportioned myself. There seems to be no high ground. Some days I'm utterly and totally depressed by how much I've allowed myself to fail. Which I suppose brings me to the crux of the matter, as I've written before of this recurring theme, I am my own worst enemy.

Some might tell me to stop wallowing in my own filth and pick myself up, dust myself off and get on with life. I would tell them they are right. Though being agreeable to that course of action does not then mean anything will be different lest that action be carried out. It would seem simple enough to do however I've yet to do it. My mother would say that I derive some satisfaction from being in the miserable state that I am in. I suppose she is not wrong, everyone wants to fix the troubled people and I guess I must on some level enjoy the attention. That is a sad realisation, a terribly sad realisation. I think something must be broken up inside my head for me to want to prolong the internal suffering I endure everyday by further creating situations in which I can suffer.

It would seem that I drive a wedge between myself and joy or happiness. Always looking to pursue things that cannot be while constantly neglecting that which can. I speak of course about my family, my friends and my studies. I even fear falling asleep because I'm trying to hold onto today and not have to face tomorrow. I want to live in yesterday but keep finding tomorrow creeping up on today. I try to blot out these thoughts with non-beneficial things like watching tv or reading but when I'm alone I can't escape my thoughts and it is my thoughts that do me in. I think if I could, I would think myself to death.

Now one might read this and think that everything is wrong with my life. Fact is this, it is not. My life is fine, it's not even that big of a mess. I have a myriad of simple solutions that would fix a great deal. This post is just my way of laying out what is bugging me and planning a course of action from there. I let you read my thoughts only so you can understand me further, not to burden you with the gravity of them. If you see yourself in my thoughts then I hope you make changes to better your situation so that you don't find yourself awake at 4.30 in the morning because of your insomnia randomly posting your banal thoughts on a public access journal.

Some days I feel so alone and that nobody could possibly understand me. Most days I'm wrong about that. In fact I think I'm wrong about a great many things. Don't tell anyone, I'd like them to believe that I know everything. It helps keep the illusion that I'm a fully functioning individual, not some factory reject with his thinking switch set to "stupid on LSD". You probably found that last bit amusing. See what I mean about knowing everything. It's true. Chuckle all you want.

And so while the general tone of this post has been far from light, I'm glad I put my thoughts down somewhere. You who read them may think less of me, I hope you don't because that was not the intent. No the real intention was this, that you could understand me a little more than you did about 10mins ago before you started reading this. In a way I've ensured that you'll think about me a little more and hopefully care an extra bit.

Now I must say goodbye but not for the last time, at least I hope not. It's curious how one never truly knows if it is a generic goodbye or the very last goodbye that has been uttered and we never stop to ponder the impact of what we've said or what we've heard, oh well such is life. As I see it, life is complex in its simplicity and quite ironic in its design. Goodbye.

without a sunrise

bleak is a morning without a sunrise,
with rain hammering down on softened ground,
to look out and find grey clouds and the world drowned,
in the sorrow of one man's tears,
as his mind contemplates the sum of all his fears,

the sun hides behind a shroud of rain clouds,
with the waters swallowing whole the accursed ground,
there is no warmth only a chill that lingers in his bones,
perhaps he is only losing his mind for crimes not atoned,
dead inside he knows he has lost his soul,

the darkened sky holds him in place,
broken and contrite in this the hour of his twilight,
he is on his back on the ground with the waters that surround,
unable to move his lungs are beginning to drown,
as his entire life like the rain comes falling down,

he is now cold and grey a lifeless piece of clay,
in a box on display for the people at his wake,
they shed tears for him who died beneath the weight of fear,
hidden behind sullen faces silently they cheer,
for him who is no longer here.

we are mankind

we are moments strung together on a string,
a string that holds us close and keeps on twisting,
twisting on into a sunrise of dreams,
dreams that this morning will bring,

we are you and i in art,
art abstract in its brilliant design,
design that no human mind can define,
define from its immaculate part,

we are moments strung together like beads,
beads of self contained dreams,
dreams we hold in our eyes,
eyes that see what the world can be,

we are you and i in sounds,
sounds of hearts beating as one,
one voice for all that hear,
hear us as our world turns inside out

we are moments you and i,
we are all mankind.

nothing more than stone

I once saw in the sky a light burning brighter than a candle at night, I had no idea what it could be only that it made see all the beauty around me. I ignored the beauty and tried to reach out to take the light from the sky. I wanted it for myself more than anything else, I craved for it everyday till I was nothing more than a soulless piece of clay. I sat and I schemed but nothing would come to me. So I just kept on looking to the sky as all around me people passed me by till I was nothing more than stone, sitting there all alone.

the needle and the escape

I’m sad and I’m all alone, I’m holed up in my little room,
I hear the voices on the streets,
But none of them are speaking to me,
That’s my life and no one ever notices me,

I walk down the street and eat at the places you eat,
Like everyone else I catch the bus, you’ll never hear me make a fuss,
Maybe that is why no one ever notices me,
Maybe that is why you’ll never notice me,

I come and go as I like with my head down, I never see the sky,
People never seem to see me pass them by,
But I don’t really care,
That no one ever stops to ask me about the frown I wear,

Because I have a place to hide,
A place where I don’t cry,
Alone in my little room I grab the needle that spells my doom,
And shoot up to find my dreams in colourful hues,

This little point, addictive and destructive,
That pierces my skin and takes me to a place deep within,
Where I can fly to places unknown,
And dream of things the world hasn’t sown,

With every hit I take a little part of me dies,
And you would think that would make me cry,
But I can’t tear when my mind is so unclear,
When reality and fiction I can no longer differ and life is nothing more than a whisper,

With time I slowly unravel, as the effect of the narcotics through my veins travels,
Soon they will put me in a box and cover me with gravel,
Every hit makes the sound of death roar louder,
Soon enough it will envelop me like a forest fire,

I wake up from the delirium, the euphoria of the hit still holding,
The reality of the danger forgotten,
My last shot I tell myself with a sorrowful sigh,
And go out to face another day beneath the sky,

Maybe when I overdose someone will find me,
Maybe when I’m gone someone will cry for me,
Maybe when I’m gone someone will notice,
I doubt but a small part of me hopes it.

I take the needle and the escape,
To ignore life and my mistakes,
To find a way to face another day,
I take the needle and the escape.

I wrote this for the MUISS Mad Monkey a couple of weeks ago

the vermin and the paladin

truth kept hidden by a lie,
the vermin and paladin juxtaposed,
we are all of us but broken bones,
healing within the fire of a tumultuous throne,

we are noble in our pain,
yet despicable in our fame,
this life our blight cannot contain,
though death is last thing we profane,

we live only to one day die,
though few believe that we can die to one day live,
life has struck us and pierced us like a shiv,
our bodies day by day escaping this mortal pit,

you are all of you vermin, i included,
this you may think the ravings of a mad man deluded,
none of you paladins, i and Charlemagne have concluded,
our strength is all but lost we are a species wounded,

the temptress and the thief

she tempts you with the apple divine,
an offering outstretched in her open palm,
she tells of a place sublime,
found in a taste of the apple's warmth,

she holds aloft time and space,
as her sway falls over your mind's array,
you quickly to her side pace,
to embrace this golden fruit's taste,

she tempts you with life and the chase,
an offering she smiled on her open face,
she tells you of her warm embrace,
as you take one more step towards the grave,

she tempts you with a smile,
with hidden motives all the while,
to steal from you, your inner child,
to take your innocence with her guile,

the temptress and the thief,
she is vanity and beauty, their villainous child,
for your heart she comes dagger sheathed,
this beautiful temptress and thief.

gender studies

I was extremely bored today and while surfing the web I came across this list of gender studies. Read on, hate if you want but the facts of the studies are as below.


Harvard University studies show that, when domestic differences arise, it's usually the spouse who does the most talking who gets his/her way.

A two-year study conducted at Stanford University demonstrated that, other factors being equal, men are as much as 50 percent more proficient than women in solving complicated problems.

Studies conducted by University of Southern California psychologists show that women are more subject to feeling depressed and ''down in the dumps'' than men.

Authorities find that the average woman requires appreciably more sleep than the average men.

Psychological studies show conclusively that, while emergencies tend to upset a woman more, in a real crisis she is likely to remain calmer than the average male.

Leading university studies show that women are far more finicky about what they eat than men.

Psychologists have found that women are more self-centered. They have fewer outside interest than men, are more preoccupied with personal concerns and problems.

The American Institute of Family Relations, after careful evaluation of surveys, found- ''Contrary to tradition it is not the wife's mother but the husband's mother who is the most frequent troublemaker.''

University of Minnesota investigators found that women discussed men far more often than men discussed women. Women talked about men more often than about any other subject- except other women. Men's conversations were more frequently devoted to business, money, other men- and then women.

Veterans Administration psychologist Richard C. Cowden made an intensive study of married couples, subjected each husband and wife to test designed to reveal their knowledge and understanding of the other's personality. Husbands had far better insight into their wives' character and were able to predict much more accurately how they would react under specific conditions.

We can hear the women's protests- ''Hah! You should see my husband when he has a cold!'' Nevertheless, in a study of over 5000 men and women, sponsored by the Veteran Administration and Cornell University Medical College, it was found that women had a far greater tendency to exaggerate virtually all types of complaints and ailments.

Psychological tests at De Paul University showed that though women were no less evasive than men, where outright lies were concerned, men led the field.

Studies show that women tend to be attracted to men they can look up to intellectually. Men, on the other hand, tend to shy away from women who have more brains than they do. This doesn't mean that men are superior in general intelligence, but that men tend to ''marry down'' and women tend to ''marry up.''

Studies conducted by sociologists at the University of Southern California show that men have much more difficulty in adjusting happily to a second marriage than women. Divorced men tend to become more ''set in their ways,'' less willing to compromise, and to expect their next marriage partners to do most of the adjusting.

Professor Leona F. Tyler, psychologist at the University of Oregon, evaluating the findings of leading scientific investigators, found the female begins to out-talk the male shortly after infancy. She talks more readily, longer and faster. But it is in verbal fluency, rather than in the grasp of verbal meanings, that females are superior.

Studies show that men are more restless by temperament than women and much more easily bored by repetitive action. They lack women's capacity to adjust to monotonous conditions. Possibly one reason women are less bored by monotony is that they are more given to introspection and daydreaming.

Numerous psychological studies on reaction time show that when a man's senses warn him of approaching danger, he reacts much faster than the average woman.

Studies show that women not only have a greater capacity for happiness than men, but also for unhappiness according to psychologist Lewis M. Terman at Stanford University, ''Women experience the extremes of marital happiness and unhappiness more keenly than their husbands.''

Choo Jian Yi - Rest in Peace

Life is taken from us in an instant, treasure today but today we are robbed of one more good soul. My condolences to Choo Jian Yi's friends and family. May his soul find rest in the great beyond. May he live on in the memories of the people whose lives he touched with his unique character. My greatest hope is that we will all find something good amidst the tragedy before us. I hope my words are a comfort.

I wish I had known him better than I did, we always tell ourselves we have tomorrow but sometimes tomorrow never comes. He was a good friend to many and he will be sorely missed. And finally to all those who are mourning this loss, look around you and remember the people still here. For they, they need the greatest amount of comfort now.

Yours sincerely,

Tristan Devadason

feeling sad & i don't know why

feeling sad and i don't know why,
forgive me if i just sit here and sigh,
i can't really smile,
i don't really try,

i'm feeling blue,
it's not because of you,
not because of any of you,
i'm just feeling blue,

a part of me wants to cry,
i hold it back in with a lie,
i tell myself everything is alright,
but i can't believe myself tonight,

bless her she tried to cheer,
the me that is on the verge of tears,
bless her soul she just might,
have eased a little this mind inside,

i'm feeling blue,
it's not because of you,
not because of any of you,
i'm just feeling blue,

feeling sad and i don't know why,
forgive me if i just sit here and sigh,
though maybe with a slight smile,
thanks to kind words from this blessed child,

tapping the bong one too many times leads to strange fatherly advice

Bagus walked up to me and he said “Dude... Dude I want you to write a short story for MUISS’s upcoming publication” and I said “Sure, what do you want me to talk about?” Thinking that he wanted me to discuss some serious issue in university, like why they don’t sell bananas (the fruit) in the cafeteria besides those awesome new crepe/paratha thingamajigs. Alas that was not what he had in mind, first he went through a list of things that had been covered by the MONGA and then he said “I want you to write something trippy, something weird.”

I mulled over this as he walked away and an idea popped in my head. What if your dad smoked up and decided to give you that birds and the bees talk gangster like? I think it would go something like this,

Yo, what up son? It’s time fo’ me to lay down some knowledge on you boy. Here is the 411. Check it.

*Your dad cranks up the stereo and something that sounds like a little jon song starts playing and then he starts rapping.*

Yo son, ya gettin to that age, when things in your body start to feel strange,
Son, ya voice is gettin deeper and ya dong is gettin longer,
Hair is startin to grow all over, even in places you didn’t think it should ever,
Don’t be afraid it’s just part of the game, even I went through this phase at your age,

When ya see a woman, ya start to feel a stirrin,
Something deep inside you starts a movin and that dude in your pants starts a wiggling,
And ya start to feel a deep yearnin for something ya never thought about or even imagined,
Don’t be afraid it’s just part of the game, even I went through this phase at your age,

What you gotta do is keep it under wraps and keep those feelings in your pants,
And I don’t mean feel around your pants except maybe when you dance,
And by dance I don’t mean with your feet but with something that looks like a stick,
Don’t be afraid it’s just part of the game, even I went through this phase at your age,

What ya’re feeling is all natural, in fact that’s kinda how ya came about,
Cause ya see when a man loves a woman things kinda get nasty and children happen,
And if ya don’t want children, then son when ya decker protect your pecker,
Don’t be afraid it’s just part of the game, even I went through this phase at your age,

Word up!

As mortified as you may feel at the time, you’ll look back at it and realise that you would still be as scarred regardless of whether or not he had been tripping.

Obviously this couldn't go into any Monash publication but still it's the first thing that popped into my head.

what is in a smile?

Have you ever asked yourself, what is in a smile? What makes a smile?

I think a smile is,

Two parts sunshine because it brightens up the room and one's face.

One part defiance because for all the things you can find to frown about you choose to smile instead.

With a hint of intrigue because everyone hides something behind their smile.

What do you think is in a smile?

sweet dreams

dream, sweet dreams,
for what refuge have we but our dreams,
vivid and coloured beyond this contemptible world and its mortal rules
truly dream, sweet dreams,
for what refuge have we but our dreams,
if we are to face another sunrise,
dream, delectable dreams,
of nectar and love,
of freedom and peace,
for what refuge have we but our dreams,
dream, sweet dreams,
take refuge in your dreams,
this world is the illusion that one day will be past,
as is now present,
but dreams are future,
for what refuge have we, but our dreams?

independence day: you can shove it

Malaysian independence to me is one big farce. I constantly ask people, independence from what? What are we free of exactly? What oppression did we find relief from when Malaysia was declared an independent, sovereign nation?

The honest truth is we traded one oppressor for another. That is of course if you want to label the Brits as oppressors. Personally, I don't think they were all bad. Racism aside, the Brits brought us into the 20th century. A feat I suspect this backwater nation could not have achieved on its own, not at least at the rate it has done. Which to a certain extent in spite of the technologies, policies and ideologies the Brits brought with them, this nation remains a third world nation with prevailing 5th world mentalities.

Some might argue that the Brits came to pillage and plunder, rape the country of all its resources and then leave like locust. I say that argument is specious. If the Brits were hell bent on keeping all the wealth of this nation, Malaysia would be more like Indonesia, where the Dutch truly did drain the nation of most of its resources in order to line coffers of the Dutch treasury. I think our foreign conqueror was a much kinder taskmaster than that of many other nations.

We speak of independence day like we did something to fight for it. We didn't. What the history books neglect to tell you is this, the general British public opinion after World War II was to do away with the colonies. England had to recover from the beating it took and no longer had the resources to maintain a presence in their colonies. This was especially true after they lost India, who by the way really did fight and suffer for their independence. India was their pride and joy, the jewel of the empire and without it they weren't interested in the rest of us. How did we win our independence? On a silver platter. We sent a delegation to meet the Queen and Prime Minister of England and after talks, the terms of our independence was agreed upon. Which by the way, thanks to the manipulation of the constitution has been grossly breached.

And then there was unrest here in the form of the communist movement. Sir Gerald Templer, in charge of putting to route the communist insurgency told England that if they expedited the process of independence, the insurgents would have no reason to fight. So instead of independence in 1963, we received it in 1957. By the way, the Brits didn't leave immediately, they left armed forces here to protect us and many of the positions in the civil service were still held by British officers until Malaysians had been trained to replace them. They could have packed up and left straight away, which would have been disastrous for a fledgling nation like ours. Especially in light of the threat that the Philippines and Indonesia posed at the time when they had lofty ideas of creating Maphilindo.

Our condemnation of the British has made us a bitter people and has also turned us into ingrates. It is truly disgraceful, the manner in which we regard the British. We forget about the countless lives, of young British men and women who shed their blood on our soil to protect us from the Japanese invasion, soldiers as young as 17, if you look at the gravestones in Batu Gajah and Taiping. Our lack of gratitude makes a mockery of the lives these men lost and the families that were broken apart by those casualties. By the way the Japanese were the most brutal occupational foreign force to have ever set foot on our soil. They were cruel, heartless and downright despicable. This is especially true for the Chinese people, who were slaughtered because of some ancient grudge that the Japanese had against them. Under Japanese rule, if you were outside your home after curfew, it didn't matter what the colour of your skin was or how old you were, if you weren't Japanese you were shot, if you were lucky or beheaded if you weren't.

Today the Brits are painted as the worse thing that could have happened to us. When any sane person, with the ability to logically deduce things will realise that the scum that runs this nation today are truly the worse thing that could have happened to us. At least during the British occupation we were all discriminated against equally but if you preformed well you could go far. Well as far as the bounds of racism would allow you and in British racism, that was pretty far. But today the apartheid like nature of this country robs everyone of true freedom and independence.

What bogs me down is this, the stupidity that is the underlying driving force behind the sentiment of "Malaysian Independence". It makes me sick to my stomach. So many people wish each other happy merdeka, happy independence day, so on and so forth. What they're doing is telling people how ignorant they are of the situation this nation is in and how far we truly are from an Independent Malaysia, where all men are equal.

As cliché as this may seem, I quote Martin Luther King Jr.

"Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle. And so we must straighten our backs and work for our freedom. A man can't ride you unless your back is bent."

the phoenix

The Phoenix rises on the wings of the dawn,
She flies to take her place in the sky,
And baths the sleeping world in the warmth of her light,
Caressing you and I with the soft glow of her falling touch,

Dew drops catch the light in rainbows of beauty,
Stretching across distances infinite and unknown,
Freshly laid on the grass that greens our planet,
The Phoenix rises while the world sleeps on,

Rest assured so long as she hovers in the air,
That today is a brand new day,
Yesterday is but a distant memory,
And tomorrow is a thought to far away,

The Phoenix at dawn,
Sings her song,
Breathes life into the day,
While we will wake to waste it away,

The Phoenix rises on the wings of the dawn,
She flies to take her place in the sky,
And bath the sleeping world in the warmth of her light,
Caressing you and I with the soft glow of her sight,

the post with such diverse elements as to be non-sequitur

What should I talk about tonight? Honest answer, I don't really know.

A recap of something I read.

Fresh in my mind is a post by a friend of mine, Amanda about being single and the elevated monetary costs incurred by such a state as well as society's perception of it being normal to be in a relationship and to want children rather than to choose the life of a single person or person who does not want children. An interesting read, it was most definitely passionate which boggles my mind, she's tiny I wonder where she puts all that conviction. It must be the fiery red hair she sports, she seems to have taken on the nature of the colour red. Someone might equate that to her turning into a skittle but I wouldn't.

She also touched on finding "the one" a subject I've had a few run ins with. And I agree with her, there is no "one". Life is not a Jet Li movie or the Matrix, you're not going to meet someone and suddenly obtain super relationship type powers. What exists is a person who brings you joy, who despite your flaws loves you and you love them in spite of theirs. Something you make work because you want to. The one is a matter of choice not fate or destiny. A relationship like so many things is about what you want to bring to the table and the effort you're willing to put into it to make it a success. It's a case of making the most of what you have to work with. Which does not correlate to settling. Finding perfection is a flawed idea, I've said it before and I'll say it again, it's about finding the perfect imperfections. Someone whose imperfections work for you. I couldn't see myself dating someone who was perfect, I love quirks. Perfect people don't surprise you and that's never fun. It's like how you can ruin Christmas for yourself if you peek at the presents days before you're supposed to open them.

She also touched on abortion, a subject that has never sat well with me. I can't reconcile the termination of life with the clinical manner in which it can be decided. I've always been of two minds when it comes to subjects like this. One part of me realises that cases exists where the child that was conceived, was conceived through nefarious methods, in a nutshell rape.

There are also the cases of teenage pregnancies which can ruin a person's life if the child is carried to term. You never want to give birth to a child and resent its existence. However then you have to ask yourself if people don't have to deal with their mistakes will they ever learn? Juxtaposed is the other question, what quality of life can a teenager give to this child? Difficult questions without easy answers. In fact the subject is so subjective it's ludicrous to try and comprehend all the variables the situation brings with it. Such is the dichotomy of teenage pregnancies. However that is in itself a completely different subject. Foetal rights is such a farce. How can we quantify humanity by the number of weeks since insemination? What about the soul? A can worms. Sigh.

Moving onto less heavy stuff.

Today the band hit the studio to blow off some steam and work out our songs. I don't know what got into us today but we were on fire. Our two new songs Header and Jerry's Sad Song (Yes those are currently the titles of the songs, we're not really big on song names, in fact they tried to name a song I wrote as the John Mayer song fortunately that's been changed to Goodbye, Goodnight after Rashaad and I protested) just came together perfectly. I can't explain it but yeah there was this synergy. We were all on the same page. Bass lines came to me like the ten commands were revealed to Moses. Difference here is that I didn't have to chisel them down on stone tablets, no instead I got to play them on a mighty axe. I would say my mighty axe, but Sophia is still in the shop. Good news everyone! (yes, if you suddenly thought of Professor Hubert Farnsworth from Futurama you are a certified genius in my books and if you didn't or don't know who that is just move onto the next part) She's ready to be collected, everything checks out and she's ready to growl again. This makes me most happy.

Finally, I've been a little moody and subdued this past week and a half. I haven't really been in touch with anyone in any form of meaningful way. The mind has been a little diffused, mildly numb and generally preoccupied with things that are really of no great consequence. Such is how I am made. Hope you've found this update entertaining. Cheers.

wake up

So I'm awake again, facing another quiet night. The solitude of it is compounded by the cubicle that is my room. Outside lurks the dark unknown, I do not pause to guess that which lies in the murky twilight. Instead I sit here filled with my sorrow, my thoughts are not lucid, my mind is like the ball on a roulette wheel, spinning in the opposite direction. I barely notice time slipping through my fingers. I'm caught only in the silence of its wake.

I've found myself letting go again, letting life slip by me. Am I so tired of this world that I cannot bear the light of day and so I hide in shadow? Keeping myself locked away in my little world. A world no one gets into.

Songs play in my mind, singing to me only sadness.

I'll wake up. I have to wake up. I have to wake up.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

Life is waiting for me outside my door but I don't know for how much longer? Will I wake up in time? Time is falling away. Soon I'll have none at all.

the post that rants about hollywood films

I watched two films today. One at home and one at the theatre. Crank 2 - High Voltage at home and GI Joe at the place I mentioned in the previous sentence.

Crank 2 was absurd, a little crude, random, ridiculous and very entertaining.

GI Joe on the other hand was a run of the mill, Hollywood re-envisioning of a good old-school television show that was mind you, an integral part of my childhood much like many other similar intellectual properties of the era, that era being the mid 80s to early 90s.

It follows the Transformers route as opposed to the Iron Man route of Hollywood film making formulas. Which is, Hollywood takes a good tv show makes a film about it, then proceeds to defecate all over said intellectual property and in the process ruin countless good childhood memories. I'm not saying it was a bad film. No I'm most certainly not saying that, I might be very vaguely hinting it but I'm not saying it. Not out loud at least. I digress.

For most people who grew up without watching the Joes on tv (I'm looking at you kids of the 90s, yes your pansy-<insert expletive that means buttocks but can also mean mule or donkey and rhymes with bass; the fish not the low end frequency spectrum or instrument> generation), the film would have been mildly entertaining so long as you could overlook the goofy acting, cheesy lines, random Brendan Fraser cameo and reality defying physics. Yes if you could overlook all that it be mildly entertaining. The dialogue was predictable as were a lot of the entrance sequences for the main characters but you can't hate that really. Its stereotypical of the action genre.

Like Transformers 2, it was explosion, explosion, not very clever plot twist, cleavage, more explosions, slow motion explosions, slow motion cleavage and more explosions for good measure. The main difference between it and Transformers was this, one had robots fighting robots and the other had ninja fighting ninja as well a sexy brunette who could act (thank you Sienna Miller, yeah I'm looking at you Megan Fox you talentless excuse for an actress, brunettes everywhere die a little inside when your name is mentioned, also you're not sexy).

Don't get me started on Duke or Cobra Commander.

On the bright side the explosions were nice. So was Sienna Miller. She's hot. Very hot. The redhead was also hot-ish. The best actor through the film was probably the guy playing the French tech guy for the Joes. He had a Spanish accent in the last season of Lost and managed to pull off a really convincing French accent in GI Joe. Sienna Miller wasn't really playing the Baroness (Russian accent was missing amongst other things) but she did act well.

So yeah that was my day. I met up with Dom, she informed me that I was too passive (i.e. laid back, relaxed, nonchalant even) and that brought out the antagonist (READ: Bitchy) in her. Very nice. I love Dom, I shall strive to be more in "your" face next time. I swear. And now I chuckle because I can.

I've been listening to Duality by Slipknot, there is something about that song. And now after watching GI Joe, it seems even more relevant.

I put my fingers into my eyes...

of riddles and flames, fires and names

I talk in riddles of fires and flames and of things too wonderful to name.

I've gone a circle about a pivotal plot, found the resting place of the lonely moth, who sits a top the master's clock, keeping watch over time and space and listening to the sound of tick-tocks. I am beauty in motion, prized in the heart of a sailor's devotion, like the splendour of the open ocean, the sweetness of this potion. I am the fire's fame, a soul you cannot contain, a heart you cannot tame, too wonderful to name. Roller coasters and their paths I've traveled, I hope the road before me doesn't unravel, lest I fall again to the carousel, whose motion is of a revolving prison. It's been awhile since I've smiled, I think my heart has been on trial, today I am once again a child, the innocence of that first smile.

Once again I speak in riddles of fires and flames and of the crimson fame too wonderful to name.

this little monkey goes bananas

I am the monkey,
No I'm not chunky,
It's all kinda funky,
When you're the monkey,

I scream and howl,
Beat my chest and growl,
Make thrusting motions,
It all quite foul,

I've got bananas,
No they aren't wearing pyjamas,
They're cruising through the Bahamas,
Yes my lovely bananas,

I am the monkey,
You might think I'm a little funny,
It's better than being dreary,
I, the bananamonkey,

I am vulgar,
Sweetened with sugar,
Hot and bothered,
I'll cut you no quarter,

I've gone bananas,
Most certainly lost my manners,
But not my bananas,
Assuredly I've gone bananas.

the post that slowly loses its mind

It's been sometime since I've written an actual post. I realise I've neglected this space posting only my most random thoughts in the form of silly poetry. I've had a lot on my mind but nothing worth putting down on paper as it were.

So what's new?

It's a new semester, which always perks my mood. New people in a very general sense means new relationships which in turn means new conversations about new subjects, at least I hope it translates to that.

We've got a new edition to the band, my new bass guitar, Sophia the Silvery Axe of Awesomeness. I call her Soph, she growls. It be very nice. Our band has also acquired a new tambourine. The Tambourine of Whimsical Delight. Rashaad likes her. He was having a whale of a time slapping her about. The Djembe might be slightly jealous as Rashaad now has to split his attention between the two of them during our acoustic gigs.

Which reminds me, we're playing at the hostelite party at Monash on Friday the 7th of August at an unspecified time after 7.30pm on the rooftop of Monash's building 7. I digress.

Our music is going well. Still working out the kinks in the recording process. Thing and Header are sounding really sexy. Still waiting to hear Goodbye, Goodnight and Hey Now mixed. I wrote Goodbye, Goodnight don't ask me what it's about because when I wrote it I was half asleep at something like 4am but yeah I hope it come out well. We've got another 4 or 5 songs in the mix.

One day people, Crossing Boundaries on iPods everywhere. Infecting the air waves with our unique brand of retardation. When the time comes don't forget to get your souvenir XB beer mugs. Definitely beer mugs, Shaneil will see to it. Rum will be a pre-requisite for every concert and t-shirts with super heroes on them.

Reality, we come back to it now. I've already met a couple of interesting new people at uni. I'm glad.

I'm listening to Pink by Aerosmith. That song always brings a smile to my face. Classic use of euphemisms and innuendos. Indeed. If you don't know what I'm talking about well, I'm sorry son you're missing out on a brilliant slice of musical comedy.

A post of mine is never complete without a seemingly arbitrary and almost non-sequitur mentioning of monkeys. They're still plotting our demise. I've ensured my safety though, I've stockpiled my banana (the fruit) reserve.

I think my odd fixation with simians comes from being bitten by one when I was ten years old. That monkey was vicious and it drank coke cola. Probably a reason behind why I don't drink coke. Well ok I do drink coke but I don't like it very much. True story. Having said all that, I do like my brother apes. As posted a while back regressing to our more primal state would definitely ease the worlds worries. After all the only itch that would need scratching would be the itch on your butt and in monkey society it's not rude to scratch yourself in public. Sigh. What a world that would be.

Reality, we have once again drifted away from it. Where was I? Actually I've lost myself. I'm right here where I was before but now Janie's got a gun. I think she killed her dad. They found him on the train tracks. She ran.

Reality, has given up on us.

Hope this has kept you entertained, I hope you kept up with the slow descent into madness. You know you did and you loved it. Cheers.

don't you cry little girl

don't you cry little girl,
i'll tell you a lie,
just to make you smile,
no one would hurt a child,

don't you cry little girl,
i'll tell you a lie,
just look into my eyes,
no one ever dies,

don't you cry little girl,
i'll tell you one more lie,
just to keep you smiling,
everything is going to be alright.

everything is going to be alright,
so stop those tears little girl,
take another step out into the world,
and you'll see, everyone lies to smile,

the fire inside the wire

to the ground i am wired,
on broken wings not mended,
the fire inside this wire,
takes me to some place higher,

tells me we weren't meant to be cinders,
we were meant to burn much brighter,
it is time to reignite this fire,
take me to a place that is higher.

jack & jill vs. the world

Jack and Jill's Manifesto of Rules to Live By

Rule 1 Be honest
Rule 2 Believe in fairy tales
Rule 3 Accept time as our friend
Rule 4 Make sure the nooky is good
Rule 5 Promote beauty. Wage a sustained campaign against ugliness
Rule 6 Abandon the pursuit of happiness and its false promise
Rule 7 Show compassion, except to pirates
Rule 8 Less TV
Rule 9 Always be willing to admit when you're wrong

Sometimes you watch a movie and it teaches you something or tells you something you needed to hear.

coming soon

This shall be my new sexy beast. Her name is Sophia.

me, myself and i

Me, Myself and I, are foes you see,
Chained together, never to be free,
With tooth and nail each day we fight,
Till the world in fullness sees our plight,

A torn mess we have become,
A fractured soul we have made,
Despairs our soul for it was wrought in battle,
Upon the battlefront within life's saddle,

And here we are to be heard,
To be seen by the world
Aware not awake; breathing yet dead,
A statue of living stone encompassed in this hollow head,

big chief no shit

There was once this Red Indian village in the middle of the Mojave Desert whose chief was constipated and all the village knew and were concerned for the beloved chief. Word of a talented medicine man from a neighbouring village came to the chief's ears and so, he called for the medicine man to be brought to the village.

When the medicine man arrived the chief said to him, "Big Chief, no shit!". The wise medicine man brought out a bottle containing an elixir, an elixir to end the chief's constipation, he told the chief to take a little and that he would come back in the morning and check on the chief.

The next morning he went into the tepee and discovered that the chief's situation hadn't changed. He instructed the chief to take a bit more of the elixir. He went outside and announced to the village, "Big Chief still no shit!"

This happened again the next day, he gave the chief more elixir and went outside and announced to the village that "Big Chief still no shit!". This went on for 4 days, however on the fifth day the medicine man ran out of the chief's tepee in a panic and yelled hysterically,



"Big shit, no chief!"

the story of the 99 mart girl

IF this was a movie, Jack black would be the star. All the words in italic are either thoughts or lyrics from songs.

Let me tell you the story of the 99 mart girl. I think her name is Lauren though until her name is confirmed I shall refer to her as 99 mart girl or 99 for short.

99 is the girl who works at the 99 mart down the street from my apartment. She's pretty in her orange uniform behind the counter she works at. Checking items out day by day, she never seems to complain, she's almost always got a big smile of on her face.

About a month ago a 99 mart opened up at Lagoon Perdana, where I stay. So naturally curious Yasir and I ventured out of our cave to survey the land and there she was, the most beautiful girl in world with her orange uniform and nose ring, there she was 99.

What can I tell you about her... erm she's got 2 eyes (they're big and brown), a nose (it's quite straight and sharp and it's pierced), 2 ears (they're pierced too), dark hair of medium length, a mouth (almost always smiling). She stands about 5 foot 6 or 7. She slender, petite even. Kinda like a punjabish version of that Nicole girl from the pussycat dolls minus all the skankiness and some of the height.

It's funny how a man only thinks about the

Sorry... what was I talking about? Oh yes 99, ah well yes, 99. So what do I do to generate contact between us, I go to the 99 mart about twice a week to buy a drink or some gum, so I can smile at her and so she can smile back at me. Such is our relationship, all smiles, winks, hi-s, thank yous and have a nice day. Not bad. Haha.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Mysterious girl, I wanna get close to you

I should probably chat her up one of these days but I'm really not sure what to talk about. Her orange uniform? Her job? Her nose piercing? The weather? Whether she believes that monkeys will one day take over the planet? Oh the myriad of topics are mind boggling. I suppose I should start with Hi, my name is Tristan or I could go with, Hey sexy lady, I like your flow... maybe not wouldn't be the way to go, she seems like a nice girl. So this is my distraction. I should be studying but... oh well. The question remains, to chat her up or not too? Tell me dance commander!

It would be awesome
if we could dance-a
It would be awesome, yeah
let's take the chance-a
It would be awesome, yeah
let's start the show
because you never know
you never know
you never know until you go

the PS3 conspiracy theory

You know what's getting me down, all this Sony will rise again stuff that we keep reading about on gaming sites, while the console's sales continue to improve it still lags behind the Wii and the Xbox360. Humbug I say and no it's not because I own a Xbox or a Xbox360. See if I hated Sony I wouldn't have purchased a PSP slim (though I did sell it after about 3months of owning it) nor would I have owned a SonyEricsson w800i and then subsequently changed it to a w580i (Now I own a Nokia 5800, gotta to love that touch screen goodness).

Lets face the facts, they tried to compete with themselves and ended up falling over, or did they do just that in a ludicrously, mind boggling, almost nonsensical and convoluted way to make room for a playstation3 with a 4 slapped on instead? Re-branded as next-next generation.

Yeap they weren't competing against Microsoft or Nintendo, they were competing against the playstation2 and I think it's evident that Sony put too much technology into a box too soon. Why would they do that? Why intentionally increase the price of your system when you can get away with so much less? After all price tag is important. So I think it was all cleverly engineered plot, indeed a plot I tell you. A fiendish plot (cue cheesy villainous theatrical music).

What is this fiendish plot? (Lightning sounds effects in the background for added emphasis)

Well I think it goes something like this...

Time frame: Around end of PS2 life cycle and PS3 pre-development time...

Enter fiendish type plot (Maestro cue the music!).

A seemingly deceptive and conveniently long time ago, in a suspiciously small room in the money grabbing brothel of Sony HQ, modern day Japan. Sat two Japanese nerds watching AV Idol porn and eating rooster testicles, amongst other things while cracking their heads as to how to best their PS2. The PS3 development team had come up against a brick wall, a thick brick wall, a very thick and suspicious brick wall, one which no idea could penetrate. They had tried everything! Played Halo, eaten McDonald's, ramen, rooster testicles, hot pockets, bananas, played golf on one of the rooftop ranges in Japan, prank called Bill Gates several times asking him if his fridge was running and that he had better go catch it. Alas nothing helped them, this is probably what they thought as I imagine it to be, with British/Japanese accents.

PS3 Guy A "Ok we're stuffed mates, our bloody PS2 is the bomb, wtf are we going to do, how can we out shine the PS2?"

PS3 Guy B "We should play more halo 2, maybe if I kill a few more noobs, my mind will clear and we'll be able to think clearer"

So after an excessive amount of time on Xbox live, the developers came back to the table but still nothing had changed, they were stumped, so decided to smoke up which gave them the munchies (oh the munchies! THE MUNCHIES!) and so our intrepid developers ate a bit more McDonalds and ramen.

PS3 Guy A "Wtf man I'm stuffed after 3 big macs" and suddenly a lightbulb went off in PS3 Guy A's head "That's it"

PS3 Guy B "What's it?"

PS3 Guy A "We'll stuff it!"

PS3 Guy B "Stuff it? Man I think you've tapped one to many times on the bong"

PS3 Guy A "I mean stuff it with all the tech we have, that way people will hate the PS3, and so when we develop the PS4 with the similiar tech people will love the PS4"

PS3 Guy B "Dude, serious no more big macs and weed for you."

PS3 Guy A "Seriously dude, if we f*ck up the PS3, then we can outshine ourselves when we make the PS4!"

PS3 Guy B "I'm starting to question your sanity and my very existence, have you seen the size of my hands? they're huge! Still, you are after all PS3 Guy A, so yeah I guess we can do that and besides this porn would look great on blue ray."

PS3 Guy A "This is going to be so f*cking rad!"

PS3 Guy B "Whatever you say, I'm going back to calling Bill, I'm going pose as Darth Vader this time."

And thus the PS3 was born, f*cked up on purpose.

And thus ends my ludicrous blogpost, hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have.

the fractured night

As I alternate between Nickleback's Savin' Me and Jars of Clay's River Constantine I sit here on my bed unable to sleep.

The drift to the other side is almost non-existent, I feel no pull. I am here, centred and unmoveable. Monolithic in appearance, these are my thoughts. The sound of music brushing against my ears does nothing to fracture the wall of cerebration I've created. No external stimulus seems to get through. I hear it but can't seem to process it, a back log created by my already innumerable thoughts.

The flavour of my one recurring thought is melancholic. I can't catch my breath. My slowed cognitive process won't allow me to express myself. My mind is dull, diffused and untethered. I can't catch my breath. I think we're spinning, I can't relate on this the fractured night of impenetrable thought. I cannot discern, I can't catch my breath.

The sun has long since fallen from the sky,
I am a traveller but I have not travelled far,
The sun has long since faded into the horizon,
I know where I am but I am lost,

The sun has long since settled west
I am looking up but I cannot see,
The sun has long since passed from interest,
I am standing still but falling free,

The sun has long since fallen from the sky,
I am breathing but I cannot catch my breath,
The sun has long since faded into the horizon,
I contemplate but I cannot comprehend,

the echoes' triumph

Echoes of the past call me to dreams of a life fate ordained in such a way, that I cannot lead. The voices remind me of a beautiful kiss that stained my lips in the waking world and still haunts me in shadow, from this road where do I go? Where do I go?

In the waking world I am pensive. The shadows were my refuge, my oblivion but now the voices of remembrance overruns the shadows taking over me, forcing me to submit to the bitter sweet memories of a time long since past.

I wake. The cool air that blankets my room lies undisturbed, yet nothing about it is calm. I wake with one thought, the echoes' triumph. The echoes have pierced the shadow and I remember.

I remember. I remember. I remember.

goodbye, goodnight

goodbye, goodnight,
i tried in vain,
even in my ears it rings trite,
now i wait for the pain,

goodbye, goodnight,
i say once again,
to this fight,
my will is all but waned,

goodbye, goodnight,
time to purge you from these veins,
not out of spite,
only so you fade from my heart and mind,

goodbye, goodnight,
i say for the very last time,
turn off the lights,
and with a sigh walk away.

self destruct initiated, where is my deus ex machina?

a disembodied, unnervingly neutral computerized female voice says repeatedly

Self destruct initiated.

(This statement sums up the sad but true story of my life)

We're at red alert and have no plan of action, life is once again spiralling down the tubes and as per normal my willingness to absolve myself from blame and have my dear friend apathy shoulder it overwrites my sensibilities. Such is my modus operandi.

I often find myself wondering where I lost my sense of responsibility for my life and the direction it is going in. When did I take my hands of the wheel and say to my life, drive yourself? This is one of those times, the wonder of it all is compounded even further by my willingness to sit here and blog about it. Here I sit expounding my brilliant yet pointless theories on why my life is about 3 paces away from the gutter and about a light year away from any form of normality. The only constants in the differential equation that sums up my life are these, I am shit and I basically have death and taxes to look forward to, provided I have money to pay taxes and if I don't well I'll still have death. Oh the sweet bright side.

How did I come to be acquiescent?

In my mind I've deferred living life by shifting myself into neutral and have allowed myself to roll down hill, a hill that is slowly getting steeper. It seems to me and contrary to Robert Frost's argumentatively ironic poem of two roads that diverged in a yellow wood with the possibility of neither having any truly consequential difference, I've managed to find and take a third, the road with the steep decline. Aided by my lack of effort I can't retrace, I look back to see the incline as insurmountable, the shear scope of the task at hand threatens to deplete my already underpowered strength of will. What now?

Where is my deus ex machina? My exit to salvation? Where are the breaks on this confounded vehicle?

The evidence of my fall into the ever darkening abyss is incontrovertible. To cope the mind constructs possible ends, mine hopes that oblivion is at the heart of the abyss and the annihilation of care will bring freedom. Though honestly speaking, I highly doubt that idealistic outcome. The acknowledgement of idealism inherent in the wish for oblivion then renders the statement sophistic. Which then alludes to the sophism and irony that is intrinsic in the nature of hope or the act of hoping. The desire that an outcome will be different and better than what you know to be statistically correct is a fallacy.

My mind also proposes that nihilism is at the heart of the abyss, the belief that nothing exists. One could theorise that from the perspective of the abused mind at the end of the fall nothing will, as everything will cease to matter not even self. However the question is if relevance is removed from an object or person and no longer have a purpose do they then cease to exist? Do things need a purpose in order to exist? My minds sees that even if a person was hollowed out and they're ethereal self or soul was obliterated their shell would remain. In some form they would exist. Unless the shell has no meaning in comparison to the destroyed soul. Then it would seem to me the only way to cease to exist would be death. Now go tell a pebble to die, I dare you. The argument is cyclic and without end.

And as I sit here thinking and theorising, it dawns on me that I am still falling and for all my brilliance, I'm no closer to a resolution then when I started. In fact my seemingly impossible situation and my reflection on it has only served to unnerve me further and so now we come full circle, which begs me to ask myself, what keeps me on this path? Myself, a fairly obvious answer. And why? I wish I knew.

Frankly, my mind is not a pleasant place to be right now, I don't remember the last time it was. Well actually I do but those times are brief and sadly I'm usually too distracted by my lack to enjoy them for long. So today, I'm going to step out of my head for a little while and maybe when I get back things will have settled down. Maybe.

pass me by

If you see me, pass me by. Don't stop to ask me why, why I sit with my head in my hands and cry. I beg off you not to stay, please go about your day. Don't stop to ask me why, why I'm failing to articulate the storm swelling up inside. All I can do is sigh, so please don't wait, go about your day. Don't stop to fix me, please don't try. I've tried and look at me now I sit here watching the world pass on by, so please don't stay, go about your day. Don't stop, please don't stop, please for your own sake, I beg off you don't stop, you may stall and have the world pass you by. If you love yourself, I urge you to pass me by, just pass me by. Because I can't have you sit with me and cry, I can't watch as someone I love commits the same cerebral suicide. I can't have the world pass you by. So if you see me, please pass me by.

Pass me by.

pardon my distraction

Pardon my distraction your eyes have caught me in remission, from a disease which laces my life with dissolution as every line I trace is erased while the world around me fades to grey, I can see extinction on my finger tips, this disease that stains my lips. For I am trapped within a prism, the prison of a life filled with self created schisms. This is my mechanism, the vehicle my life will take to its final destination. Here exists an allusion to illusion as everything that exists in the minds construct can be written off as delusion. I am afraid my mind's division has taken almost all my attention.

Even so through my distraction, I note your eyes are cool but not cold, steeled but not icy. They are faux nonchalant, their armour wavering ever so little belying that inside you are affected by my attention's diffusion. Please pardon my observation and its intrusion as I am prone to assume, perhaps your eyes are speaking in a different language or to a different person.

I pull myself back to the world for a minute to vocalise my thoughts of you but all that I can manage is a feeble statement of something arbitrary almost non sequitur, it is vapid to my ears. Still you manage a smile, even your eyes. I could ask you why? but I know you would probably answer with, why not? and smile again. You intrigue me and perplex me, they seem to go hand in hand. My minute ends. Once again my thoughts are like light diffracted, rarefied the entirety of the situation derisive. Somehow you remain constant. Pardon me in this seemingly torpid state. I am not lucid, it is evident that my mind is not placid. But for that brief minute I was eased.

A calming slice of sunshine amidst a terrible storm, my boat threatens to capsize in the high tide of a world I cannot control, I've fallen down the rabbit hole. I've dragged you into my twisting perception, I've burdened you with my locution. Shown you the gaping wound I'm nursing from choices of my own making. Perhaps it is time I stopped making excuses for my life's failings. Trimmings of the disease that stains my lips tonight.

Pardon my distraction, your eyes caught me as I was falling.

the monash ball 2008

I wrote this last semester about the Monash Ball for Monga, the issue was never published, so I figure I might as well post it. Enjoy.

Bright colours, lights, music, everything is so fluid, bodies swaying to a rhythm euphoric, this is our pantheon and for a moment we are the Gods, we are Zeus, we are Hera, we are Morpheus, we are Aphrodite, we are rulers. A pantheon designed for us, a pantheon for the people. Our pantheon, the Monash ball, the highlight of the university’s social calendar for us the students of this university, organised with the students in mind, themed, coloured, purposed for a night of memories, good ones at that.

The theme: Mardi gras or Fat Tuesday as the interpretation from French goes. The last day of carnival, a 3 day period before lent, the Christian fasting period similar to Ramadan. As Zhen Yao and Shazeea the MCs for the night quipped it’s not what you get after playing football on a wet field, muddy grass. No definitely not muddy grass, Mardi gras is a celebration of colour and music and dance and so the night was themed that way. The Mardi gras theme was brought to the students in the form of decorations and performances, the performances most of which by our own dance fusion club gave you a taste for the flair of a culture alien to us. A fashion show to highlight the sensual styles of carnival further opened eyes to a world far removed from our own. All of it being very pleasing.

The man behind it all, Manil De Run the activities chairperson. This writer knows firsthand the amount of planning that went into the ball. Preparations were being made as early as June and months of planning culminated into a night of brilliance.

Though what made the night were not the decorations or the music or the theme. The people, the Gods of this pantheon made the night. Their presence made the night, for without them all we would have had was an empty ballroom with pretty lights. Everyone was dressed to kill; the men looked sharp in their suits and the women enticing in their dresses. Every colour of the rainbow was represented in a glory and grace splendid. The students of Monash had never looked more beautiful.

When the dance floor opened, there we were dancing the night away. This writer had the privilege of rocking out the night on the dance floor with a very beautiful woman, one who knew how to sway her hips to the beat. And the scene he saw before his eyes was being played out across the dance floor. Boys and girls were dancing the night away, beautiful in their own right, graceful in their sway.

A night of memories, indeed memories were made with every conversation, with every passing smile, memories were made at the tables the students sat at and memories were made in the sway of the bodies on the dance floor. Memories were what the night was designed for and memories it gave you.

Although the night existed only for a moment and faded from the corporeal world, as time ever progressing forward took it from us, it continues to live on in our minds and our hearts with the memories we took from it. To quote a song by Eve6, “here is to the night we felt alive” and alive we were, we the Gods of this pantheon.

thing - crossing boundaries

This is my bands first original play, enjoy =)

a callous rhyme

enrage the fire of war,
i've gone cold to the core,
to the world my soul i've whored,
i will take no more,

my back to the precipice,
rewarded with pain,
life calls no armistice,
my words are in vain,

a sickness within these icy veins,
i am a man on his knees in the rain,
into madness i fall insane,
i am a man on a runaway train,

i collapse for the last time,
in a bed scented with sage and thyme,
above my head reads this little sign,
my life is a callous rhyme,

please do not resuscitate

shut me down he says,
he has had just about all he can take,
this heart is failing at a constant rate,
please do not resuscitate,

through eyelids florescent lights are red
and no one hears him from his bed,
his silent cries slowly fall dead,
after all there is nothing left to be said,

like flawed fabric he quietly unravels,
away from the light he slowly travels,
locked away in his mind he is miserable,
this boy a failure unbearable,

so shut me down he says,
he has had all he can take,
his heart has failed to wake,
he signed please do not resuscitate.

insomnia's delight

He tosses and turns in his bed as his lover insomnia prolongs the night's solemn visage. With his consciousness she wrestles nightly, forcing him to hear her madness and the hush that falls all around, it lies thick and heavy in the air. Slowly it comes to him, the realization that the world is cold and sterile, an unsavoury place.

The night singles out his loneliness, magnifies his loss of perception. Clothed in darkness and its deceptions, he is isolated. A frame that his vulnerability cannot hide in and so he tries to dream, to transcend his physical form, to find solace in the colours of his thoughts. His dreams a masquerade of his own design, his mind's little deceit to hide from the cold, lonely night.

Though this night even his dreams he is denied, no refuge from her grasp. His soul screams for light, for reprieve, its own all but gone cold. Its barriers all but worn from her constant assault. He looks away from her. He looks for focus.

He looks to the moon, he can see she is beautiful, a beautiful thief mesmerizing with her light taken from the sun and so he looks away to see the stars. They offer little comfort, their light kept selfishly so far away. Teasing with their faint twinkle like the wink of a flirtatious girl from across the room.

He is reviled, insomnia his vituperator. Sickened by his lack of visual escape he turns away from the heavens, resigned to his fate. He thinks perhaps rest will come on the wings of the dawn. Perhaps then he may slumber. She whispers to him again feeding his madness, still he can't deny her beauty and her genius. In her own way she has made him who he is, she has coloured him. Till rest comes his way he stares into the void of another dreamless night, his thoughts abstract, twisting beyond this mortal coil. This is insomnia's delight.

when life comes to call

When life comes to call,
What will you feel?
Will you be crying?
Will you be smiling?
What will you feel?,
When life comes to call,

When life comes to call,
Who will you be?,
Kind and loving?,
Hopeless and breaking?,
Who will you be?,
When life comes to call,

When life comes to call,
Where will you be?,
Right be side me?,
Or far off hiding?,
Where will you be?,
When life comes to call.

i'm a fucking tsunami

this goes out to jerry who asked me to write something that had i'm a fucking tsunami, phantasmagoria & non sequitur in it. Enjoy!

i'm a fucking tsunami,
come watch me roar,
complete tonal madness,
i'm the auditory orgasmosaur,

i'm a fucking tsunami,
come watch me shred,
i've got you in my bed,
with my wicked licks on this fucking thread,

don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
i'll blow your fucking mind,

don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
i'll fucking blow your fucking mind,

i'm a fucking tsunami,
you'll beg for more,
come watch me scream,
i'm phantasmagoric with my wicked lore,

i'm a fucking tsunami,
i'm non sequitur,
i'm a fucking tsunami,
i'm the phantasmagoric auditory orgasmosaur!

don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
i'll blow your fucking mind,

don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
don't try to stop me,
i'll fucking blow your fucking mind!

and so i read this today

"I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing is neglected, and if the best arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our Island home, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace of tyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone.

At any rate, that is what we are going to try to do. That is the resolve of His Majesty's Government-every man of them. That is the will of Parliament and the nation.

The British Empire and the French Republic, linked together in their cause and in their need, will defend to the death their native soil, aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their strength.

Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail.

We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France,
we shall fight on the seas and oceans,
we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be,
we shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old."

~ Winston Churchill June 4th 1940

so you said

You asked me,
"Where are we going?"
I say "nowhere dear",
I am right here,

As sunsets pass us by,
And people pass us by,
In the moment we've no fear,
We are right here,

And you say,
Fire in me a new colour,
Mold within me your shape,
Never take me from this place,
Your sweet embrace,
So you said, so you said,

You asked me,
"Do you love me?"
I say "yes, dear",
I am right here,

As sunsets pass us by,
And people pass us by,
In the moment we've no fear,
We are right here,

Every time we come undone,
We fall apart, we're torn apart,
I look to you,
I look to you,

And you say,
Fire in me a new colour,
Mold within me your shape,
Never take me from this place,
Your sweet embrace,
So you said, so you said,

suffering

In darkness surrounded,
A faith is unraveling,
Down the spiraled tower,
Exhaustion takes all she has within,

Down the spiraled tower,
She is racing, tracing,
Paths to lead her home,
Away from all she has known,

Paths to lead her home,
All she has trodden serve to sadden,
In obscurity she is forsaken,
This soul left bereft of life and all its constituents,

In obscurity she is forsaken,
No portion to call her own,
Her soul in eternal damnation,
She sighs as the light in her eyes slowly falls silent

are you made of tuesdays?

Be forewarned this a vent with intent to dissent and it will make no sense.

In the words of Scrooge when wished a merry Christmas, "Bah! Humbug"

That's my statement for this Tuesday. As I listen to Ode to My Family by the Cranberries. Bah! Humbug indeed. Nope Tuesdays aren't full of grace and neither are the children. I was born on a Friday, loving and giving my ass. I suppose it could have been worse, I could have been born on Sunday.

Personally, I'm more like the bastard child of Wednesday and Thursday with Friday being left with the mess while the other two eloped to Vegas where a cheesy Elvis impersonator who got his marriage license off the internet married them into newly wedded bliss followed by a bitter divorce. Yep they had it all, the engagement ring, the wedding ring and the suffering. Thursday was so scarred by the whole thing he changed his name to Lucy and decided to work as a can can girl.

Full of woe and have far to go. Lacking grace, love and charity. Mildly talented musician and comic, has engineering degree. I a miserly old guy will work for food and grass.

That's my CV right there.

Are you made of Tuesdays?

primates and you

There are times when I ask myself, what would a monkey do if faced with the various predicaments that I find myself falling in & out of. Indeed what would a monkey do in my position? All I can come up with is arse scratching and bananas. Should my response to life's trials and tribulations be consuming copious amounts of banana while going at my posterior like a cat with blunt nails on scratching post.

The thought is not unpleasant. I do love bananas and butt scratching makes me feel very nice. Alas tis only a fools endeavour to pursue life with such simian philosophies. We've barely begun to understand how humanity works, how can we possibly hope to emulate our noble ape cousins. A truly perplexing conundrum, how ever will homo-ignoramus regress to a state of happy play time and supreme monkey loving of the naughty variety.

Sure we've got technology and money and gin & tonic with fancy little umbrella thingys that we place in said alcoholic beverage with a slice of lemon.

The question is what do we really have? We know technology will eventually kills us. Good examples are MTV and the internet. One rots your brain as evident from all the teens and adults who think the Jonas Brothers, Britney Spears, Miley Cyrus and 85% of what's on TV pass for artists or talented even, while the other gives you the illusion of having a life, indeed you're really the shit when you throw a sheep at someone. Then there is money and it being the root of all evil. On the upside, while money may not buy you happiness, i suppose it can make misery much easier to live with.

Then of course we've got gin, probably the only good thing we've made and contrary popular belief alcohol doesn't ruin your life, you do. Yes much love to the chap who distilled the first glass of gin and thought to himself "I wonder what this would be like with bubbly bitter water and a slice of lemon" yes, thank you sir I salute you!

And while I'm on the subject of alcohol I would like to make a shout out to my main man, God for giving us sugar cane, spices, the Caribbean and pirates and their ever awesome drink Rum! Arrrrr!

The pirate's life is a wonderful life...

Sidetracked. Yes alcohol, the taste of it, the smell of it, the thing it does to people you know so you can laugh at them and their alcohol enabled silliness.

Alcohol: Getting men laid since 10,000 BC

I digress, monkeys & alcohol! Weeeeeee! I ask... Can we frolic about bare-arsed scratching life away? No. Can we eat bananas buy the buckets like some people eat KFC and not suffer from loose bowels? No.

A sad state affairs. How I wish for the simpler pre-evolution times of earth. When it was the planet of the apes minus Charlton Heston and Mark Wahlberg in their respective film adaptations of the classic by Pierre Boulle.

To my primate comrades live life to the fullest before evolution gets you and sorry for the verbosity of this post. If it helps I knowing that you are slow readers, typed very slowly.

i'm back bitches... where did all of you go?

I approach the blog site, the administrator motions me to sit and wait my turn. I take my place, I wait for the loading to be done. He motions me to speak. I stand saying "Hi my name is Tristan and I'm a blogger" the room choruses "Hello Tristan."

The return to blogging is like that AA meeting you skipped out on to grab a drink with your best mate who's back in town, that friend who fucked up most of your life yet you can't help but love him. And of course being the person he is, you drink more than you should have and next thing you know you're waking up in a strange, you better pray to God that it's a girl's room, asking yourself what the fuck did I do last night? why does my arse ache? and why do I smell bananas?

Yeah. That's what a return to blogging feels like. It's that intense! Oh yeah you bet, I could tell you some pretty crazy stories of the kind of trip you're on after a good blog post. Hell yeah, I could. I really could but I won't.

So... Uni is back in session, yeah... it's really that awesome. I could tell you stories but I won't.

Good news I haven't written any deep and profound (READ: Emo) poetry for a while. Well there was that one I composed on my mobile but in my defense I really love my touch screen phone and got carried away touching the screen and the imaginary buttons. For the most part I've been cutting back, doctor says I was getting too deep. Yeah. Good news is I've been on some new meds and the doc says I'm close to being as shallow as a puddle. He says it's a miracle. I say meh.

I think I've confused apathy with shallowness and this probably deserves further study but I don't really care. Anything that stops me from over analyzing the people around me and their motives makes me a happy person.

So another 11 weeks... yeah... On the plus side my list of people to love has once again increased. Yeah and love them I will even if it kills me.

So I'm heading to sunburst next weekend. That should provide all the necessary distraction I'll need for a weekend.

Hopefully this blog post was entertaining... if it wasn't well... it's not my fault.

danger! high voltage! - electric six

Disturbing and at the same time amusing. Disco, Disco, good, good!



Fire in the disco
Fire in the taco bell
Fire in the disco
Fire in the gates of hell

Don't you want to know how we keep starting fires?
It's my desire, It's my desire, It's my desire

Don't you want to know how we keep starting fires?
It's my desire, It's my desire, It's my desire

Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
When we touch, When we kiss
Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
When we touch, when we kiss
when we touch
Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
when we touch, when we kiss
Danger! Danger! High Voltage!when we touch, when we kiss, when we touch, when we kiss

Well don't you want to know how we keep starting fires?
It's my desire, It's my desire

Don't you want to know how we keep starting fires?
It's my desire, It's my desire

Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
When we touch, When we kiss
Danger! Danger! It's High Voltage!
When we touch, when we kiss
when we touch

Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
When we touch, When we kiss
Danger! Danger! High Voltage!
When we touch, when we kiss
when we touch, when we kiss

lover!

Fire in the disco
Fire in the disco
Fire in the taco bell
Fire in the disco
Fire in the disco
Fire in the gates of Hell

The Gates of Hell

short skirt, long jacket by cake

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond
I want a girl who knows what's best
I want a girl with shoes that cut
And eyes that burn like cigarettes

I want a girl with the right allocations
Who's fast and thorough
And sharp as a tack
She's playing with her jewelry
She's putting up her hair
She's touring the facility
And picking up slack

I want a girl with a short skirt and a lonnnng jacket......

I want a girl who gets up early
I want a girl who stays up late
I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity
Who used a machette to cut through red tape
With fingernails that shine like justice
And a voice that is dark like tinted glass

She is fast and thorough
And sharp as a tack
She's touring the facility
And picking up slack

I want a girl with a short skirt and a lonnnnng.... lonnng jacket

I want a girl with a smooth liquidation
I want a girl with good dividends
And at the city bank we will meet accidentally
We'll start to talk when she borrows my pen

She wants a car with a cupholder arm rest
She wants a car that will get her there
She's changing her name from Kitty to Karen
She's trading her MG for a white Chrysler La Baron

I want a girl with a short skirt and a lonnnnggggggggg jacket

through glass - stone sour

I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
Oh God it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head

How do you feel, that is the question
But I forget you don't expect an easy answer
When something like a soul becomes initialized
And folded up like paper dolls and little notes
You can't expect to bitter folks
And while you're outside looking in
Describing what you see
Remember what you're staring at is me

Chorus:

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
All I know is that it feels like forever
When no one ever tells you that forever
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head

How much is real, so much to question
And never dare make up the mannequins
Contaminating everything
When thought came from the heart
It never did right from the start
Just listen to the noises
(No more sad voices)
Before you tell yourself
It's just a different scene
Remembering is just different from what you've seen

Chorus:

I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
All I know is that it feels like forever
When no one ever tells you that forever
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
And all I know is that it feels like forever
When no one ever tells you that forever
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head

And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you

Chorus:

I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
Oh God it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
All I know it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever
Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head

And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you
And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you

FMLYHM - seether

You could've been the real one
You could've been the one enough for me
You could've been the free one
(the broken down and sick one)
Remnant of a vacant life

You come around when you find me faithless
You come around when you find me faceless
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up and tear it down)
Dig it up and whore me out
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up and tear it down)
I love the sound when you come undone

You could've been the next one
(God only knows)
You could've been the one to comprehend me
You could've been the only one
(the broken down and sick one)
You could've been the one who i lie with

You come around when you finally face this
You come around when you find me faceless
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up and tear it down)
Dig it up and whore me out
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up and tear it down)
Don't make a sound 'til I come undone

You'll never break me
You'll never break me
You'll never break me

You could've been the real one
You could've been the last one I'd lie with
You could've been the old one
I should've been the one who died

You come around when you finally face this
You come around when you find me faceless
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up and tear it down)
Dig it up and whore me out
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up and tear it down)
I love the sound when you come undone
Fuck me like you hate me
(fuck you like you hate me)
Fuck me like you hate me
(you'll never break me)
Fuck me like you hate me
(dig it up, tear it down)
You'll come around when you find me faceless

so cold - breaking benjamin

Crowded streets all cleared away
One by One
Hollow heroes separate
As they run

You're so cold
Keep your hand in mine
Wise men wonder while
Strong men die

[Chorus]

Show me how it end it's alright
Show me how defenseless you really are
Satisfy an empty inside
That's alright, let's give this another try

If you find your family, don't you cry
In this land of make-believe, dead and dry

You're so cold, but you feel alive
Lay your hands on me one last time

[Chorus x2]

It's alright [x9]

the girl who sighed

Ominous is the morning that dawns on the wings of a night's sad goodbyes,
clouding her path and robbing her of smiles,
so she broken hearted perceives as tears stream from her sore eyes,
she sighs at her lot in life,

To be thought unloved her presence slowly evanescent,
she questions her sanity her very essence,
still for love to come her way she remains persistent,
her soul torn, forlorn at convention's insistence,

Incomplete she isn't though she thinks it,
lovely she is though through her looking glass she can't see it,
her fears she will soon realise is her mind's little deceit,
hopelessness is not for her she is not weak,

This one was moved to write,
her plight needed telling,
this bard hopes he caused no wrong in his writing,
he hopes she's smiling.

300 techno remix

adverts

Imagine if you will, snow white frolicking in the cool clear waters of a misty lake near the cottage of the seven dwarfs, her home. She playfully splashes water around, without care or concern, she is lost in her euphoria. Roused by the sound of a bird singing in the distance. She takes it as her queue to leave the lake, dry off and return home. As she is about to leave the lake, the seven dwarfs happen to come by. She does not notice them. Emerging from the water, her nakedness apparent, her body glistening, the seven dwarfs are enthralled by the beauty presented to them.

This is the perfect advert for 7up.

Cheers.

the man that can't be moved - the script

Going back to the corner where I first saw you,
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag I'm not gonna move,
Got some words on cardboard got your picture in my hand,
Saying if you see this girl can you tell her where I am,
Some try to hand me money they don't understand,
I'm not...broke I'm just a broken hearted man,
I know it makes no sense, but what else can I do,
How can I move on when I'm still in love with you...

Cos if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me,
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be,
Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet,
And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street.

So I'm not moving...
I'm not moving.

Policeman says son you can't stay here,
I said there's someone I'm waiting for if it's a day, a month, a year,
Gotta stand my ground even if it rains or snows,
If she changes her mind this is the first place she will go.

Cos if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me,
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be,
Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet,
And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street.

So I'm not moving...
I'm not moving.

I'm not moving...
I'm not moving.

People talk about the guy
Who's waiting on a girl...
Oohoohwoo
There are no holes in his shoes
But a big hole in his world...
Hmmmm

and maybe I'll get famous as man who can't be moved,
And maybe you won't mean to but you'll see me on the news,
And you'll come running to the corner...
Cos you'll know it's just for you

I'm the man who can't be moved
I'm the man who can't be moved...

Cos if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me,
And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I can be,
Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet,
And you'd see me waiting for you on the corner of the street.
[Repeat in background]

So I'm not moving...
I'm not moving.

I'm not moving...
I'm not moving.

Going back to the corner where I first saw you,
Gonna camp in my sleeping bag not I'm not gonna move.

16 random facts about me

taken from my facebook note.

1. Day dream a lot. (Read: Excessively). Star Wars. If I could be a lightsaber wielding, force using Jedi. I would be. Yoda would be my hommie. And Darth Vader would be like "I am not your father. But I wish I was. Damn!". I've read more than 40 Star Wars novels.

2. I have a dislike for people in general as other people agitate me and cause me to feel anxious. Though this is setting dependent. Which makes friendship especially important to me, for a simple reason. My friends don't cause me to feel on edge all the time.

3. One of my all time favourite meals is the Christmas meal. Roast Turkey and the various trimmings that go with it. (Thank you early American pilgrims and puritans.)

4. I am afraid of heights, small spaces and of being in a coma; conscious of the world around me but unable to do anything, trapped in a prison of the body.

5. I enjoy humour. I try to colour everything about my life with it.

6. I don't particularly enjoy poetry (reading it) but find it an excellent way to cryptically express my feelings on subjects to close to home to express otherwise.

7. Songs I'll never get tired of Tea and Sympathy by Jars of Clay, Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, Change Your Mind by Boyce Avenue, Everlong by the Foo Fighters and Glass to the Arson by Anberlin.

8. Aerosmith's song was right, falling in love is hard on the knees and I fall in love way too easily. I have accumulated plenty of metaphoric scars over the years. Some worth their pain. And to that end I hate Alfred Lord Tennyson. I swear the bastard was piss drunk or on crack when he said it is better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all.

9. I love the rain, thunder storms get me high and lightning is by far the most amazing natural phenomenon that I have ever seen. I can spend hours staring at the skies as lightning streaks the sky with light as I lose myself to the steady rhythm of the rain falling. Playing in the rain only serves to enhance the experience and after the skies have cleared the stars never look more beautiful.

10. I enjoy conversations. Listening or the other thing people do in conversations. I enjoy them so long as the subject matter is engaging. Topics ranging from fart jokes to life, the universe and everything. (Thank you Douglas Adams).

11. Ambition in life: to be a good father.

12. Have a morbid fixation with death, depression, sadness.

13. When playing a video game that involves moral choices, have never been able to go down the "evil" path willingly. I feel real guilt for hurting pixelated people. Except when they deserve it and then I show no remorse.

14. I have a weakness for brunettes. In my opinion, Paz Vega is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen on TV. Followed closely by Eliza Dushku, Christina Ricci and Kristin Kruek. But that is just TV. And since we're on the subject of beauty. I think the most attractive physical quality of the opposite gender is the eyes. Iris colour is irrelevant, but I do find shades of brown and green to be the most enthralling. All that beauty on the inside goes without saying in fact mentioning it in depth is hackneyed.

15. Nickname growing up "Ton". Short for Titon because at the age of two I couldn't pronounce Tristan. Heck some 30 year old and older adults can't pronounce it. I've been called Christian, Kristin and some others.

16. Considered being a Priest. True story.