Archive for May 2008
Deepak has often described himself as “The Indian Jon Stewart” if Jon Stewart was genetically combined with Gizmodo, Wikipedia and an Indian guy. If you let him, Deepak will enlighten you, if you listen, Deepak will upgrade your knowledge like a newly-released Service Pack at sundown.
Now, if only you could spell his name.
Pangea Day is a global event bringing the world together through film — to help people see themselves in others. The program had been broadcasted – in seven languages – to millions of people worldwide. 24 international short films were featured there
Pascal Dangin is the premier retoucher of fashion photographs. Art directors and admen call him when they want someone who looks less than great to look great, someone who looks great to look amazing, or someone who looks amazing already — superhuman.
“Did Demarchelier confirm?”. “I have Patrick!” an assistant to Miranda Priestly, the editor of Runway, exclaims in “The Devil Wears Prada,” but her real-life counterparts probably log as much time speed-dialling Pascal Dangin.
You know, you know where you are with
You know where you are with
Floating, bouncing back
And one day….
I am going to grow wings
A chemical reaction
Hysterical and useless
Let down and hanging around
Crushed like a bug in the ground
Let down and hanging around
Like Estragon and Vladimir, I’m forever Waiting for Godot. The faculty of anticipation bordering absurdity as the capacity of waiting withering.
Is it so hard to make one commitment to fill this epoch of time, when there’s absolutely no hindrance, no attachment to other place and at least a foresight of expecting to be near-presence of this locality?
One day off. Near and about. Silence.
I feel sorry for myself. I’m trying too hard to appease this facetious pantomime. Mouthing and jerking and twitching for semblance of plausible expression. I’m humouring my ill-humoured self with certainty with certain degree of sacrificing the prospect of my hectic life.
One day off the hectic life on this eventful day.
And I found myself thinking — aloud — Why?
Perhaps it’s time to be overtly apathetic. Curbing the liquidity of resources to bare minimum. Saying yes, to say no. To contradict myself, for my own benefit — not being selfish — rather, just to be self-aware.
I know, it’s not a promises. And you know it’s the day. Yet the day wasted with you in the familiarity of personal-comfort. I should know better, for someone who is used to normalcy, impromptu event sounds taboo.
Alright, my fault.
Man, I’m really easy to cave in, innit?
2 years. 2 souls.
22,020 cultist thought 2.2 is narcotic.
Li.y (Dizzyli) recites Hamlet – Act 2, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare.
I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.