people say architecture is hard. well, i had my fair share of statutory warning that came along with the course package. i stood there, basking in delight for almost topping some almost third grade competitive exam.
what i needed was peace after the painful ejaculation that was, PUC exams. call me masochist but i somehow loved getting it over with. bah!
now everyone told me this ain't your piece of cake, i wished whole heartedly that this would be the first meaningful study i might ever undertake. that this was going to contradict every form of mugging, completely delineating my rote memory, stimulate my right brain and give me a dysfunctional right arm. was i prepared for it? i didn't care. i let it unfold cheekily.
today i am, still letting it unfold. there's no cheekiness and rest assured, there was no separating work life and personal life here. there were no two ways to go about it. it was a life changing decision. it was the ultimate journey. i scrapped all the old MEs. and found many more new ones. i am a tumbling bead in the colourful, inconsistent kaleidoscope that is this way of life.
i love it. no, dig it.
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Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
weekend blues
i stare at the ceiling, just awake
what time of the day is it?
is it even day? or night? i debate
disorientation implicit.
i remember there's work to do
wasted the weekend have i.
food and drink are for survival no more
i fight an urge to thrive.
food and drink, i start to think
i have earned them not.
yet fed am i, with providence
leaving me senile and to rot.
i whip myself and rise to work,
see just a humble line on paper
while a myriad of such entities await creation
im rendered observer.
for more to come, and so to say
i'll have to think on toes...
for a brain on my foot, i pray,
for now, i forget my woes.
what time of the day is it?
is it even day? or night? i debate
disorientation implicit.
i remember there's work to do
wasted the weekend have i.
food and drink are for survival no more
i fight an urge to thrive.
food and drink, i start to think
i have earned them not.
yet fed am i, with providence
leaving me senile and to rot.
i whip myself and rise to work,
see just a humble line on paper
while a myriad of such entities await creation
im rendered observer.
for more to come, and so to say
i'll have to think on toes...
for a brain on my foot, i pray,
for now, i forget my woes.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Morning Sick-O
It's eight a.m., the alarm goes off,
at breakfast-table i sit.
A phlegm-laced trachea, i muffle a cough
oh my god im sick.
Iv'e temperature, a bitter tongue
has curdled my sip of milk,
throat goes dry, weakened lungs
back to pajamas silk!
at breakfast-table i sit.
A phlegm-laced trachea, i muffle a cough
oh my god im sick.
Iv'e temperature, a bitter tongue
has curdled my sip of milk,
throat goes dry, weakened lungs
back to pajamas silk!
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