Rantglass - because that's how things are.

Waters on the rise.

This could either be another denial of sorts, or a rite of passage that distorts.

Three months is a considerable amount of time to give it more than just a broad overview, and speaks volumes about what it can or can no longer do.

It may be a mere flash in the pan, designed to hold back that dash of triumph long coming into plan.

It may drown you under the bright white February moonlight, where dancing stars shower on you with all their might.

It may even twirl you around in a lovely waltz, finishing neatly with a leaping somersault.

But you know it has become a mistake when things no longer feel right, affirming the doubts that previously lingered at first sight.

Love will lead us all to smithereens.

Details of this entry.Saturday, February 15, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Lean, The National

Divulge to indulge.

We let on far more than we intended to.

Those first impressions and second guesses become one with the wind after one mere harmless peek at a social network profile; from marital status and age, to preferred fast food joint and favourite childhood toy, to the finest red wine ever had – it spills exactly everything and hides absolutely nothing.

While I must admit that I hardly feel guilty at having done my due diligence, I am getting increasingly troubled by the overloading of such trivial details into my already-tired brain, and the emotional anxiety that is soon to begin in the lead-up to the next four-eyed meeting.

Because all I can see before me now is a big, shiny bottle of pinot noir – uncorked and slightly chilled, ready to be drunk on a balmy Sunday evening, because apparently that is how you like it best.

Likewise, the same could actually be said about these many written words here, which have (mostly) been carefully crafted over a period of twelve years and more. I am aware that they may either portray me as an individual so tellingly vulnerable that you could have pointed me out from a police line-up without any hesitation whatsoever; or simply paint me as a translucent and nameless online being that ceases to exist as soon as you hit the exit button of your browser.

And I am quite happy to live with knowledge of the latter.

Details of this entry.Monday, February 03, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Pink Rabbits, The National

Swept midshore.

Almost a month on, I cannot help but still harbour some bitter resentment for 2013. It was such a sore, black spot on my life’s history, I doubt even the strongest cleaning solution in the universe would have been able to wash away any of its lingering ill effects.

Naturally, memories both good and bad will eventually go on to make up essential parts of ourselves – either bringing us way up high above the clouds so that we can freely build castles of our own in the sky, or down paths less travelled that starkly undermine our inner desires to fly; but more often than not, it is the sum of all fears that rides on us forever more, shaking us to the very core.

And yet, when those Chinese zodiac predictions for the new year speak only of all things good to come – bountiful wealth, blossoming love, brilliant career outlook – it is hard to keep a straight face and not roll your eyes in response to those immense words of praise and joy.

Of course, it is best to take it all with a grain of salt. Perhaps two, maybe three. Still, they ring hollow to my ears, for the opposite could be true.

I do very much hope to be proven wrong this time around, though.

Details of this entry.Sunday, January 26, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Pink Rabbits, The National

Behind yellow lines.

A month on, and it has not been all that exciting after all.

The delayed thrill of the wind that follows a few seconds after a scheduled express train bullets by; the now familiar faces that enter the same carriage every morning; the sudden jerks and unsteady bumps that occur as the station approaches a mere ten minutes later.

We may have long breezed past the snaking line of traffic jams, forever filled with either angry red or bright yellow lights. But these are everyday images that hardly register anymore, for in its place now is a mental to-do list for the day, filled with the most menial of tasks to please even the most difficult manager in the universe.

We may have been looking at nothing, staring out the same fogged up windows on a cold and rainy Monday. But these are office drones dressed in white collared shirts and black polished heels, for no one else seems to have traded away their job security and long-time happiness for a chance at becoming something better than they once were.

This could be a mere little mis-step, designed to put your mind to the test; or an honest and blatant mistake, one that is unforgiving at best. Perhaps only time could tell, but unfortunately that is a luxury ill-afford at the moment.

Details of this entry.Sunday, December 15, 2013, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Hard to Find, The National

A blurb and a half.

Things could always be worse: the ditzy drizzle could have intensified into a torrential typhoon; that 10-minute traffic jam could have turned into a roller-coaster ride across town; the boss’s lengthy lecture could have been a quick kick out the door.

But this was like a 180-degree turn: a long-term relationship with dawn slowly replaced by a newfound fondness for dusk; a knowing switch from the always glorious west to the perpetually gloomy east; a freefall off the plank and deep into the darkest trenches of the ocean.

And no one even had to hold a gun to my head.

Maybe this is what a career suicide feels like.

Then again, putting things into perspective hardly matters when you are only still at day one, peering through the window with the naivety of a wide-eyed three-year-old, and wondering how much longer would it take for you to mindlessly fumble through the fog and miraculously emerge through the other side.

And if there is no other side, so to speak, well…

You said it would be painless, it wasn’t that at all.

Details of this entry.Sunday, November 24, 2013, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Pink Rabbits, The National

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