Saturday, June 10, 2006
The song Toki ni Ai wa is driving me nuts.
And still I listen to it, despite the fact that it's making me crazy...well, crazier, that is.
It's a long story on why it makes me crazy, but then again, all stories about me and myself are long and involved affairs...probably because I made them out to be so, and so they are. Never mind.
Kirei... That's what I think whenever I listen to the song. No, it's not that the song itself is beautiful. It's a nice song, yes, but not to the extent that one would label it as beautiful. No, it's the images that the song invokes that cause me to murmur the word 'beautiful'.
Yeah yeah, deep down I'm actually a diehard romantic. Whatever. I'm a girl (unfortunately or not). I'm entitled to that privilege. Girls are supposed to be more caught up in romantic notions than guys are at any rate.
While I enjoy the fantastical notions of romantic fairytales (yes, the prince, the white horse, happily ever after and all...go ahead and laugh), I'm grounded enough to know it can't ever happen, but you can't stop a girl from dreaming. Dreams are important, because without them you can't have hope. And hope is what keeps us going in life, is it not? It gives us purpose, a direction, something to aspire to...not that I'm actually taking my own advice, hypocrite that I am.
It's not that I don't have hope really. It's more of a case of a flickering hope. Hope that maybe I can find my way out of the funk I regularly find myself in (or put myself in, it's hard to tell). It's not a very big hope, or a very bright one, but its there, nevertheless. Why do you think I'm still alive and kicking if I didn't have any hope at all?
As for the kind of images being invoked by the song in question, I suggest one should go back a few posts and check the last entry where I mentioned the same song. You should have a better grasp of what I am implying by then. If you don't, well, too bad for you. You're free to ask me on MSN, and I'll explain...in short sentences, using simple words, so as not to overload your grey matter, assuming you have any that are being put in good use. Hehe.
And yes, that WAS an insult. Just for the fun of it. Come to think of it, I only insult people either 1) online, or 2) I'm comfortable around. Yes, if you're not a friend, I probably won't insult you on a regular basis. Odd huh? But it's true. My moments of sarcastic brillance usually emerge when I'm comfortable in the company...or if I've had some time to think it over. Or sometimes I have rare moments of inspiration where I spout something clever without any prompting or preparation. We all have our moments I guess.
As someone once said, everyone has moments of inspiration. Geniuses just have them more frequently. I'm technically not a genius, despite my occasional claims that stem from egoistical self-promotion than anything else. Yes, I'm not above taking jabs at myself. Hello, where have you been? I've been taking jabs at myself since Day One. The ability to laugh at oneself is most important in this screwed up world. If not, you'll go insane...not that my ability to laugh at myself is any help with that matter, since I'm about half-insane already, so it doesn't matter one way or the other.
Speaking of insanity, one is rarely if ever TOTALLY insane. We all have moments of lucidity I believe, even in the pathologically disturbed. Sometimes just fleeting moments, seconds here and there, barely noticeable, but who knows? Are you sure you're sane, if at all? Is anybody really sane when you get right down to it? By what, and whose, standards are we looking at ourselves? Think about it, and come back to me in a couple hundred years.
Alright, that's enough for a post. I should really stop coming up with mini-essays everytime I blog. Well, almost everytime. *cough* Right. Gotta go. Cya!
Somewhere along the way, the Prince became a Princess, and the white horse a bicycle...and there was no happily ever after, only one of those tortured scenarios like those straight out of those horrible medieval court romances...oh the horror...
]
And still I listen to it, despite the fact that it's making me crazy...well, crazier, that is.
It's a long story on why it makes me crazy, but then again, all stories about me and myself are long and involved affairs...probably because I made them out to be so, and so they are. Never mind.
Kirei... That's what I think whenever I listen to the song. No, it's not that the song itself is beautiful. It's a nice song, yes, but not to the extent that one would label it as beautiful. No, it's the images that the song invokes that cause me to murmur the word 'beautiful'.
Yeah yeah, deep down I'm actually a diehard romantic. Whatever. I'm a girl (unfortunately or not). I'm entitled to that privilege. Girls are supposed to be more caught up in romantic notions than guys are at any rate.
While I enjoy the fantastical notions of romantic fairytales (yes, the prince, the white horse, happily ever after and all...go ahead and laugh), I'm grounded enough to know it can't ever happen, but you can't stop a girl from dreaming. Dreams are important, because without them you can't have hope. And hope is what keeps us going in life, is it not? It gives us purpose, a direction, something to aspire to...not that I'm actually taking my own advice, hypocrite that I am.
It's not that I don't have hope really. It's more of a case of a flickering hope. Hope that maybe I can find my way out of the funk I regularly find myself in (or put myself in, it's hard to tell). It's not a very big hope, or a very bright one, but its there, nevertheless. Why do you think I'm still alive and kicking if I didn't have any hope at all?
As for the kind of images being invoked by the song in question, I suggest one should go back a few posts and check the last entry where I mentioned the same song. You should have a better grasp of what I am implying by then. If you don't, well, too bad for you. You're free to ask me on MSN, and I'll explain...in short sentences, using simple words, so as not to overload your grey matter, assuming you have any that are being put in good use. Hehe.
And yes, that WAS an insult. Just for the fun of it. Come to think of it, I only insult people either 1) online, or 2) I'm comfortable around. Yes, if you're not a friend, I probably won't insult you on a regular basis. Odd huh? But it's true. My moments of sarcastic brillance usually emerge when I'm comfortable in the company...or if I've had some time to think it over. Or sometimes I have rare moments of inspiration where I spout something clever without any prompting or preparation. We all have our moments I guess.
As someone once said, everyone has moments of inspiration. Geniuses just have them more frequently. I'm technically not a genius, despite my occasional claims that stem from egoistical self-promotion than anything else. Yes, I'm not above taking jabs at myself. Hello, where have you been? I've been taking jabs at myself since Day One. The ability to laugh at oneself is most important in this screwed up world. If not, you'll go insane...not that my ability to laugh at myself is any help with that matter, since I'm about half-insane already, so it doesn't matter one way or the other.
Speaking of insanity, one is rarely if ever TOTALLY insane. We all have moments of lucidity I believe, even in the pathologically disturbed. Sometimes just fleeting moments, seconds here and there, barely noticeable, but who knows? Are you sure you're sane, if at all? Is anybody really sane when you get right down to it? By what, and whose, standards are we looking at ourselves? Think about it, and come back to me in a couple hundred years.
Alright, that's enough for a post. I should really stop coming up with mini-essays everytime I blog. Well, almost everytime. *cough* Right. Gotta go. Cya!
Somewhere along the way, the Prince became a Princess, and the white horse a bicycle...and there was no happily ever after, only one of those tortured scenarios like those straight out of those horrible medieval court romances...oh the horror...
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