Australian Eye - from my eyes

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This post is going to be about a video we've watched in one of our EDUC373 lecture in Macquarie Uni. The title of the video is Australian Eye and it's on a dvd - doubt you'll find an upload on youtube or something - but yeah, here's my opinion on it. Dont like it, shove it.

Basically, the video is about this one program held by this lady (let's call her the facilitator coz i didnt note her name down) about white Australian privilege and discrimination. The program basically have the participants to be divided into two groups; those with blue-eyes (most consist of white Australian) and the brown-eyed ones (mostly consist of the other Australian- those with immigrant/non-Australian/aboriginal background). Now, things got a lil other-way-round inside the program. The blue eyes will be seated in the center of the room surrounded by the brown-eyes and they will be failed on several basis purposely, having their blue-eyes to blame discriminately every time. So in other words, its basically a program where the white Australians will be having some hands-on experience of being in the shoes of the discriminated minority group and will hopefully gain a great insight on what discrimination and social justice is like.

Now, by all due respect; I thought this program was a good one. After all, like Mr Atticus Finch once told me "you have to be in someone else's skin and walk around in it" before you really get to know how another person is feeling and being treated. But something from the video caught my attention - and its the Brown eyes. A group where I, if i attend that kind of program, will be in.

You might wonder "if the blue eyes are 'discriminated' or became the 'minority' in that class, who's the majority and the discriminator?". Well, they are the facilitator and the brown eyes. Now i thought this was all part of the process and that the only way this program would work is to get some highly discriminative group of people to look down on the blue eyes. After all, it's about getting hands-on experience for the blue eyes. But seriously, how the brown eyes acted during the whole program was... well... Let's just say they were being douches. Some of them were joining the 'fun' in poking at the blue-eyes failure along with the facilitator. Some were mocking at them for "not understanding how they felt". And when one of the blue-eyes were being a bit defensive about having to sit down and shut up while the facilitator mock her, one of the brown eyes claimed out loud that she had to sit down and shut up for years in her life but the blue eyes were being defensive about having to shut up for 5 minutes. Now, i perfectly understand how this brown eyed felt in her life but... i dunno, a lil bit of sympathy anyone? Read on.

At one point of the activity, the participants (both blue and brown eyes) had to write three words describing how they felt and how they felt on the opposing group. of course, the blue eyes wrote that they are scared, judged etc and they described the brown eyes to be dominating, controlling, relaxed, comfortable etc. The brown eyes described themselves almost the same way ("i felt relaxed, comfortable, and powerful" (accompanied by a really smuggy smile) but described the blue eyes, despite them (the blue eyes) being oppressed and powerless for the past couple of hours in the program, to be smart-asses, rebellious, smug, something about not knowing their place, arrogant (one lady who were to write three words mentioned four instead of three and the last two being "arrogant" and "smug-faced"). This point of the activity caught my attention. None of the brown eyes wrote anything among the three words description that shows sympathy to the discriminated blue-eyes. After all, they know how it feels like to be looked down on, discriminated, shover over, and oppressed. Why is there no pity in the eyes of the brown eyes?

If i am in that activity as a brown eyed, the three words i would write will be "I", "hate", and "myself". Yeah, i know how it feels like to be discriminated, and here i am discriminating another group of human being and enjoying it. I will hate myself for that.

That is my main concern after watching that video and the program altogether. The brown-eyes were having a good time mocking the blue eyes, joining in the fun of looking down on the blue eyes, and rubbing salt on the 'wounds' inflicted by the facilitator on the blue eyes. Yes, I am perfectly aware that the brown eyes had way terrible experience being oppressed because of their difference but being discriminated and oppressed before; does that give you the right for vengeance? I am surprised that none of the brown eyes participant felt disgusted with themselves for enjoying the feeling of discriminating the blue eyes - they were enjoying the saddistic pleasure of vengeance! There were several blue eyes who couldnt take the oppression anymore in that program and left - i am surprised the brown eyes were enjoying it when they should know how oppression really felt like. If i were in that program, even as a brown eye, i would leave. Oppression and discrimination is a disgrace, even if i am the one who are to give them.

So, something struck me at the end of the video. If in such case where the tables are turned, will the oppressed become the oppressor? This Australian eye program suggested that the answer might be a "yes". that's the fear that had the majority group oppressing the minority group all these while. If they ever let the world become an equal ground, where the minority group is given just as much privilege as the majority group, will there be a case where the minority group will oppress the majority? A real life example, note how the Asians are flooding over Australia in some excessive sense; there's a report on the news that had Australians not being able to get a job in their own country because employers of non-Australian origin are giving job opportunities only to their own people. That is one example where the minority group can discriminate the majority group if they are given the chance. So when Australian employers limit their job-giving to Australians, the non-Australian call it discrimination. Dont they realize that some of them will (and are) doing the same given the chance?

So, how do we really get an equal ground where neither the majority or the minority will be oppressors or the oppressed? Here's one suggestion; dont give in to fear if you are of the majority group and if you are of are the minority group, dont give in to fear AND vengeance. One good deed deserve another, an evil deed doesnt. Even if you have gone through hell all your life and finally made it to heaven, dont push those who are still in line. If you are of a minority group wherever you are - please take great note on this. Equality is not the task of the majority group but yours as well. Rising up to power - to show the majority group that you're stronger than them - is not an effort to equality.

Saving my memories

Delaqroux Inc Updates

Here i am now with my external hard drive infected with some virus and me trying everything i can in (and maybe beyond) my powers to try and save all the files i have saved in it.

Well, there's nothing much to say in this blogpost except for that. I have been trying all manners of recovery softwares i can get my hands on as well as several tech tricks to get access to my HD for the past 15 hours. But as a little note here; is it just me or tech people (i dont want to call them "fucking nerds" coz that would be really, really rude) are really, really inconsiderate people (i dont want to call them "bastards" coz that's too rude... you get the idea)? I mean, i am really devastated with the idea of losing everything i saved in my hard drive, especially all my photos. Imagine, all the photos from Day 1 of my life in Australia all gone? It's like i have never been to Australia if i lost all those photos. And it's not just about me and my life, it's about people i have met along the way, things i have seen, experiences i had - everything. I dont want to one day forget them all just because i lost the photos. Anyways, back to the tech sonnovabitches.

The virus in my HD apparently called out for me to reformat my external. Now, it could just be some misleading virus but i did manage to hack my way through and yes, my external is empty (at least it seems so) - reformatting might be the only way to be able to use my HD again at the cost of all files gone. Now, with so much at stake, i dont want to believe that dumbass virus and i still want to try and find out if the files in my HD is okay. So, I brought my external to JB Hifi and ask one of the technicians if there's any way they know for me to confirm this. So, this guy comes up, took my HD (or rather, snatches it) and plug it into one of his PCs, ask if i still have a valid warranty, and after awhile, he told me that there's nothing else that can be done. At one point, i saw the guy almost click "yes" when the HD prompted if you want the HD to be reformatted. I told them that i dont trust that reformat request and the guys rudely told me that he knows how he works with these stuffs and that he is familiar with this kind of virus.I told him again that i think there might still be files in my HD and that reformatting might make everything lost for good. The guy rudely replied "So? what do you want me to do?" I told him that i'll try to figure something out myself and he unplugged the HD (almost with a tug) and toss it back to me. Afterwards, he just left me by myself. Talk about a dick. But as another side note: after i manage to work/give up with my external HD, i'll work to have this guy's ass fired from JB Hifi. I want that fatass to have to beg his parents for money to get his lazy lump of rotten maggoty meat flaps of fat to ever eat a bag of chips again. I swear it.

Anyways, in the meantime, i will continue to work in extracting the files in my HD. Somehow, i think i've lost a huge chunk of sense in my head for the time being. I find myself hitting my own face a couple of times at the thought of giving up and i forgot to have dinner earlier today. I dont know how many articles i have read about computers and drives and i lost count on how many data recovery softwares i have downloaded. Sigh...Oh well. Persistence makes perfect.

It's my idea

Delaqroux Inc Updates!

First things first, 4935 is my laptop. I decided to call my laptop that instead of "baby" or "lappie" as some of my colleagues do. 4935 just sounds cool. It's like how Luke call that dumb golden plated robot C3P0 and that vaccuum robot that chirps, R2D2. So there you go, my laptop is called 4935. Oh, and as a side note; i'm kind of down with a fever at the moment. What's so special about that? Well, it's pretty much the first fever that managed to get me down during my stay in Aussie. I missed a number of class and they're solely not on the excuse of pure laziness... well, almost. Anyways, back to the laptop.

So there was i, online, looking for something smart to do (or smut?... hmmm...- no, just kidding. seriously, i was looking for something smart to do) and suddenly, a pop up came up. It says "Security Suite" and apparent, the 'software' is scanning my laptop. 'Coincidentally', the 'software' detected a hellota virus in my \laptop. Now, i'm not that big of a tech savvy but i know pop-ups and internet scams -and most obviously, this little security suite thingy is not an actual application. I dont know if you should be calling this thing spyware or virus or trojan or spartan. Regardless, i tried to have this 'application' turned off. Obviously you cant. I tried a more manual way to get it out of my taskbar via Windows Explorer. Nope, still no luck - cant find this thing. I tried opening my Window's Task Manager and this security suite tells me that the task manager's exe file is infected. Yeah, right. Soon, i found out that every single softwares in my laptop is being deemed 'infected with virus' and this Security suite virus is telling me to download the full 'anti-virus' in order to remedy this situation. Pft... Talk about irony.

Anyways, i threw in the towel. When things get tough with your laptop, the laptop goes a reformation. That's exactly what i did - the easy way out. I decided to install Windows 7 instead of the lame-ass Windows Vista Starter Pack i had since the time i purchased my laptop. Somehow, Windows 7 worked a wonder. I remembered reinstalling my Windows Vista after my laptop's last reformatting session. The whole system start lagging worse than my previous laptop running Serious Sam with all hell breaking loose. So yeah, this time around, Windows 7 that i have just installed worked smoothly. the boot up system resembles Windows Vista alot but yeah, i suppose they require less space. There's not much noticeable internally with the new system but the layout has changed kind of drastically. The taskbar/toolbar is apparently called super bar (despite the name Winodws 7 - Super Bar adds another not-so-creative jargon to the whole PC system thingies). So yeah, here i am, now a proud user of Windows 7 (illegally - not so proud about that though)

Anyways, why is this whole story about reformatting my latop's worth a blogpost of its own and your time reading it? Well, i have absolutely no idea. Must be the fever.... or maybe i'm just plain bored. Whatever. So, without further blabbering, let me just end this blogpost with; this is DarkDelaqroux.... and Windows 7 is my idea.

.....Actually the sole reason why i'm uploading this blogpost and talking about my laptop being reformatted with Windows 7 and all is because i want to say that last line. Yep, so i've said it and you've read it. Weee.

Grand Theft Alchemic Drive & Halomari Threemacy

Delaqroux Inc Updates!
This post was originally made as a trial post on My IGN blogsite. Just saw some notice about the blog being a mere beta version so i thought i might as well make a copy of my blogpost on my normal blogsite instead. Anyways, this blogpost will entirely be about games (IGN stands for International gaming network after all) so for those who couldnt care less about this topic, i really suggest skipping this one. Then again, it's a free blog.

Despite being an experienced blogger on my usual blogsite, i thought i would just give a blogpost on IGN a shot. And what other topics are worth discussing here than games! And on top it of, something about games that i have just thought about a few minutes ago; it’s a new term (probably) so bare with it. It’s called; GAME MIXING!! p/s: pardon the grammar, the not-making-sense-ory, or the pure stupidity of this post. I love you all.

Yeah, game mixing. It’s basically you getting two different gameplay elements from two different game titles and mixing it up to make a single game. No, Marvel vs Capcom titles are what i call as cross-overs (not sure if other people call it that) – Game mixing is entirely, mixing gameplay elements rather than the same old gameplays elements of one game only with a dash of characters from both original titles. Not sure if i’m making much senses here. But here’s an example of game-mixing that i wish to see… or play… maybe.

Grand Theft Auto IV + Robot Alchemic Drive
I’m sure everyone’s familiar with GTA4 but not RAD for the PS2 system. It’s basically a robot driving game where you defeat monsters from outer space (google a review on youtube and you’ll see some gameplay). The best part about RAD is the robot driving thingy obviously and the best thing about GTA4, to me, is the thievery (you stealing cars = fun). But mixing the gameplay elements from both GTA4 and RAD, you’ll get Grand Theft Alchemic Drive!! It’s basically the world of GTA except there’s robots fighting in the streets. And what you can do is the ability to hijack one robot and use it to complete missions (which consists of shooting people on the ground as well as people in robots as well). If it seems that your robots busting up, worry not – get out of the cockpit and hijack another robot. Just be careful you dont recklessly destroy or kill the entire population or you’ll get stars – the intergalactic polices will be after you…. IN THEIR VOLGARA ROBOTS!!!! (of course, you can hijack those too)

HALO + KATAMARI DEMACY
Yes, the stupid prophet is back and yes, human is at the brink of extinction that they resorted to training/creating super soldiers called Spartans. But is it enough (with all Spartans being MIA and all) with only John to clean up the entire mess? NO! Spartans should go KATAMARI!! Yeah, why pick up normal human guns, rechargable shields and jump extra high when you can roll into a ball and sweep the entire Covenant fleet with you! People complain about the Propher dying off way too easy in HALO3? No fret with HALOMARI!!! You roll into a ball of Covenant armies and you crash into the prophet bowling-ball-down-the-alley style! Oh, and those missions with Arbie (The Arbiter)? Who says there can only be one ball on the playing field? Jump in? Try ROLL IN!

So, now that you are familiar with this Game mixing thingy, what are your ideas for two (or more) gameplay elements to mix into a single title? Let me know what you think! =)

p/s: Gee… posting blogposts about gaming ideas that make no sense is kinda fun… Thanks My IGN!

Asian@MQlibrary.org

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Here i am now, writing this blogpost in the comfort of a study table in Macquarie University library (that i find vacant without much of a hassle surprisingly) and am hereby to talk of my observation in regards of the library interior - or to be more specific, Asian-filled library interior. As a side note, i have been meaning to post something on this matter for quite some time but i often do not have the time for it. So, without further ado, let's get this shit done!

In relevance to my cultural plunge assessment recently, i have been thinking about being in a totally foreign environment and being able to view the culture of my own from an outside viewpoint. With that being said, i have been doing some observation in regards of the Asian culture for that matter. And personally speaking, i am starting to develop a certain extent of prejudice towards some Asians. In a more layman's term, some (not all, obviously) Asians are friggin annoying! And to explain this, i will explain the characteristics of those annoying-as-hell Asians in this library. 

First, there's the Study-table Hogger. Yeah, you! That guy in front of me who has just left his study table while at the same time, still claiming that it is his. How? Well, he left some few papers on the table as well as his jacket and he had not return for almost 30 minutes, presumably for lunch - expecting to return back to that seat and claim it back on his leisure. Now, i am not sure if there's a particular rule forbidding that (which to my mind, i think there IS one) but come on! If that's not being a dick then i dont know what is! Often i take 15-20 minutes walking around the uni library just to get a seat (and often, it ended up with me walking out of the library, failing to find any). And, i wont be as pissed if the study areas are just full. But the problem is that 50% of the study table are occupied by study-table hoggers who are not even on that table! Their belongings are there, however, equivalent to a dog pissing on a lamp-post and claiming that lamp post as his when in truth, he wont be returning there for the next few hours! Once, i heard of this tale about a person who valantly claim a table-hogger's table when the hogger hasnt return for 30 minutes. When the hogger returned, that valant claimer valantly claim that the hogger hasnt return for more than 15 minutes and thus, the table should no longer belong to the hogger. However, that valant claimer politely offered if teh hogger would like to share the table with him. No, dear readers, the hogger can utter no other word in response except "No, this table is mine!"

Then, there's the Snoozer. These kinds of Asians still belong to the hogger category but instead of hogging a table and disappearing, they apparently mistook the study-table as a sleeping place. Yeah, the only reason they have a study-table or a space in the library is so that they can avoid the outside cold, and find a place to sleep without being disturbed. Now, i dont mind if people are taking a short break from their studies and taking a short nap, but come on, these guys are literally snoozing for hours. Now, upon writing this, i am able to witness this one guy (picture of him will be uploaded soon) who is dozing off on one of the library's lounge sofas. Yesterday, i entered the library to do my assessment at 10am, and there was he, sleeping. I spent an hour there, went for a class for the next two hours and returned to the library to resume my assessment, and there was he, still sleeping. I spent an hour with my assessment before my laptop's batt went out and as i left, there he was, doing what he does best. Oh, and did i mention that i will be uploading his picture today? No, i didnt manage to take a pic of him yesterday but it seems i can do that earlier today. Why? Coz he is there even today, in the very same spot, sleeping! Now, he could be dead on that chair for all i care but find a different place to die, that sofa can be given to someone else who would come to library to do their work on the comfort of a sofa. Dont misuse it as a bed!

Finally, there's the Couple. Dont take me wrong. These are not the only three types of annoying Asians in the library. There are more. And dont get me started on the ones OUTSIDE the library! Anyways, the couple comes in, well obviously, a pair. Now, i dont have any problem with a public display of affection (or PDA for short) nor am i those types of people who gawks at people kissing or acting lovey-dovey in the public. But in my book, they have to be in their own space or in an open public place where what they do may not seem so obvious. Coming back to the matter at hand, this Couple find the library as a retreat. Hugging around and holding hands are acceptable - even kissing, i dont mind. But when it comes to the guy singing a Chinese song to the girl and the girl projecting her voice in high pitch to act cute - that is just dead annoying! For one thing, that is just as annoying as hell as it self. Serenading and acting cute is romantic only to the Couple, not the public. So whatever you're doing is an annoyance to the ears of those outside. For another matter, and a political-sense at that, a library is a quiet zone! Singing to one another and talking in high-pitch voice is just as obvious as someone speaking on a megaphone in a church during a virgil. Please, respect the other people who are here for the quiet (i'm not talking about the Snoozer)!

As i have said, there is more to those annoying Asians than the number that i can get to discuss here. There are the On-the-Phone-s, the PC Hogger, the Public PC Facebooker (recently discussed in The Rant section of last month's Grapeshot issue), the Talkers, the Resource Book Hogger, the Charger etc. etc. and i havent even started to the ones outside the library. Now, if you are an Asian and feeling abit defensive, i know, there non-Asians who does all of that as well but there are notably, a small number of them. As prime majority users of the library, what we Asians do in the library will be the most obvious. Please consider some ethnical issues when you are in a common room and stop being annoying. Thanks.

Oh, and upon writing this closing, the table hogger in front of me have returned, totalling in one hour of absence from his table. Pfft...

The TV Show

Delaqroux Inc Updates!

Funny thing; there was i in a lil bit of downed mood when everybody else are like; "fast tomorrow. O joy!" and i started writing a poem by myself to spark a tad bit of that joyful spirit to my night candle-lit garage-bedroom. SOmehow, posting that poem up on this blog (done a few secs ago) made me talk about ENGL201 and how i scored a credit (was kinda hoping for a distinction but nah, poets cant be beggars and beggars cant be choosers). That made me think about my final write-up that scored me that grade and eventually lead me to go through my external docs stashes, find that write-up and give it another read. For some reason, i think what i wrote was... well... a piece of crap that should have gave me a pass instead of a credit and yeah, i guess imma let you guys think of it. Lemme know.

Oh, and i'm not sure if it's actually legal to make a submitted assessment write-up available for public viewing so, instead of posting the final copy, i'll let you guys in on one of the final-est drafts. Hope that will keep me free of any uni copyright charges or whatever :p Anyways, here I go. It's a 3000+ words write-up so you might want to get some supply of caffeine handy.

The TV Show

Have you ever realized that everything in front of you might be nothing but a TV show? Have you ever realized the fact that you are sitting in front of a TV screen with an endless movie viewing session, your eyes and ears totally glued to what is in front of you, totally being immersed in the plotted storyline and that you lose track of which is real and which is not? Of course, you would remember that realization. Who would ever forget that feeling? But, that will not be the focus here. What I want you to remember is that split-second moment of noting that this ‘life’ you are watching… or rather, living in, if in the case where you are that immersed, is not real and that as soon as you come up to this, you realized that you had the remote control to the television screen all along. As soon as you press the “switch off” button, what would you remember from the show you were watching until awhile ago? How did you like them? What was your favorite scene? And, of course, turning off the show halfway through, what do you think would be the best music to accompany the ending credit roll? I do remember myself in this situation. And as this is my moment to be among all of you, allow me to share how this moment is like for myself; what did I saw on the TV screen? What did I remember? What was everything like? How was everything like?

Sweetness, it means everything. Like chocolate-fudges that have warm chocolate cream oozing out when you cut out a bit of it with a small fork. And when you do that in a really freezing room, you can see the chocolate cream streaming slowly out with a puff of sweet smelling warm steam. The sensation of wanting, feeling that overwhelming taste of sweetness and wanting that sweet, sweet indulgence in your mouth – that feeling is everything. It is everything that you would ever want. Yes, sweetness – it is everything. You were young. That was when you learned that too much of sweetness can cause die-bitties, small little things that grows in you that bites you until you die when you eat too much sweets. I used to think so that way. Sweetness can kill. Sweetness killed grandpa. I remembered grandpa Tok Wan. He was a happy, old man and he loved riding his motor scooter with me, clutched in the front seat in between his large, knees. He loved to tell funny stories which made us laugh during breakfast and dinner time. Those stories made us not realize how little the food on the dinner table for us to share was. They were hardly any – let alone chocolate fudges. But his funny stories made the bad feelings go away. We did not realize how little the food were, we finished it up while we were listening to his stories. By the end of them, we finished the food and we were full. His stories are always short and funny. His stories are always short, funny, and sweet. Like chocolate fudges we never had. Oh, and I remembered how I asked grandpa on how did he ever managed to get so plump. He said that he loved laughing but for most of the time, he had to hold back some so he did not annoy grandma. All those laughter he held made him swell up like a balloon. That story itself was a genius. It made me laugh. The story was a masterpiece. I loved laughing with old, happy, grandpa. I love laughing to all sweet memories of old, happy, sweet grandpa. So when he died, the laughter ended. Of course, I learned that he died out of too much sugar in his blood. And yes, I learned that the sweetness in those days died with him too. And like, chocolate fudges, sweetness is everything. Having it too much kills. Not being able to have it kills you twice.

Being killed twice – how did that felt like?

Perfection. Death and reborn. The restart button. When imperfection is crossed out and everything is remade, once again, perfected. The feeling of re-freedom, the sense of re-knowing, and the thoughts of finally re-accepting that things cannot ever be perfect, but yet so sure that things will not ever be perfect; the feeling of sheer re-perfection. It is like the feeling of raindrops on your skin – not one single stimulation on your receptory senses is the same to the other – such perfection in an imperfect, unsymmetrical rhapsody of touch and delight. You stood in the middle of the rain, soaked, with your eyes closed. You feel the touches. You accept them with open arms. Joy? Happiness? Yes to some. No to the other. Some of them hated the rain. Some of them hated the rain for making them feel imperfect. Every splatter of raindrops made them think that they are like bronze statues in the middle of a rainy, misty, moist garden. Each drop reminded them that they are corroding away, going from good to rust and rusty to gone. And also, the constant reminding that things, dear things, will never last, fast corroding before you can maintain and cherish them – not to mention, reminding them of the total needlessness for any of those dear things to be treasured. The fact that each drop of clean, clear rain splatters to thousands of glittery small molecules of water is, to them, much like a finely crafted glass goblet dropping on a concrete floor. To witness that is horrifying indefinitely - the few heart beats skipped as you catch the last glimpse of that fine crafted masterpiece before it is gone forever, the irrationally large hope placed on the item regardless of knowing so well of its end a second after, and the split-second space where choice should be made on whether to launch themselves forward in hope of saving that piece of a lost cause, or to get some distance and ears firmly clasped with their palms – which in my opinion, the latter is the way wiser choice to be made. Everything is as good as gone. Everything is just as good as being washed away by the rain. In fact, the rain reminds them that they are not perfect and also, nothing else are. But to know how to embrace such quantum of imperfection is to accept those raindrops – and perhaps everything else – can never be perfect. Is that not perfection; to acknowledge things are imperfect? Like how each drop of rain is different than another. Like how each splatters of water is distinctively different to the other. Like how each shattered memories is in its own unique from one to the other. Like pieces of what you remember is different from another way of remembering them.

Like chocolate fudges and sweet memories, there are specifically ways on how to remember things fondly. I once lived in Sydney and I loved the city. The best part of visiting the city is to go to the Opera House. That is how everyone normally remembers of the city. Nevertheless, if I am to think about visiting the city, I will first remember the train ride to the city. I loved the build up to the excitement of being in the city than being in the city itself. It is just like how I think that the best part of music is the solo strumming of the guitar before the rock band plays, or the drum-rolls before the orchestra begins. So, in this case, I remember visiting the city by being on the train tracks to it. I would take the bottom seating in the last car and to follow the train staff announcing all the stops from the first to the destination. And I’ll be poetic about it. I’ll write songs about those stops. I’ll write lyrics about the people in the train. I’ll write about the people outside the train. I’ll write about how the train ride begins and I’ll write how everything ends when the train stops. I wrote songs and lyrics heaps but there is one that I remember rather fondly, like “Taking the Train to Reality”. I wrote about the time when I passed St Leonards and how I thought about how train-tracked life is. Life is so predictable that it hurts and how we always know the joy of loving amiss. I wrote about passing by the station of Epping and telling myself that everything is okay. But I do remember the lady next to me was crying and how the sky outside was shallow and gray. “Let’s both of us be lost”, I remembered telling the lady, that “it’ll be fine if there’s just the world and you and me”. But I also remembered writing about returning back to reality, exactly when the train reaches its stop and we parted ways in Sydney. I remembered the excitement about being in the city, the excitement of going to be in the city, and the excitement of believing that we will never reach the city. I remember it all and I remember it all fondly.

“How well do you remember it all?” he asked. I shrugged. I hate interruptions. I hate being interrupted and I am sure you would hate it too. He interrupted me from telling you my story. How, how rude! I shrugged again. “What other fond memories do you have?” he asked once again, remaining persistent regardless of my exhibition of very minimal interest to him. Now, my friends, I believe he would want to be friends with me just like how you all are? Shall we accept him to the group? Shall we accept this persistent, rude man to our group’s share-a-tale session? I hope you will not mind for this man’s persistency knows not the underlying meaning of one remaining oblivious to his questions. Mayhaps, we should include him in our group of storytelling. Why not? How much harm can he do to our friendship? This man, now, is looking at me through his half-rim glasses, eyes eager as puppies’ to know my story. I took a quick glance at him, from top to toe. He is wearing a white laboratory coat, his nametag hanging out of his left chest-pocket with a picture of his younger self which seems to appear much less stress-looking than how he looks now. He also wears a necktie of a very nonsensical pattern display. Only a child would pick that kind of tie off the shelves. Only a fool would wear it to work. A fool or a birthday dad, that is. I wished him “Happy birthday”. He did surprised but not too surprised. He just smiled and replied with a bitter thanks. No, he is not surprised. Must have been all those years and years back when I wished him everytime. He knows how I got the date correct every year. I do not have any calendar with me in here but I know it had been a year every time just by looking at this man. I know him so well. I know him well enough to know that his grandchild gave him that necktie. I know him well enough to tell that his grandchild passed away. I know him so well to tell how sad this poor old man is. I know it will not be long before he, too, will start watching his own TV shows. So I began telling him my memories. The same ones I have told all of you just out of sympathy, and as a birthday gift.

Soon after, he thanked me and left, leaving me alone once again within these four walls, all by myself. Now we are all alone again. Where was I? When did I stop? I could not so well remember, neither do I care. It is not at all important as thinking about chocolate fudges, sweet memories, rebirth and raindrops, and trainride and reality. I looked at one of the cushioned white wall where my TV screen used to be. I remembered those joyous times when I used to spend hours and hours, days and days, years and years of my own favorite TV show. I have decided to stop now. Too much TV kills. But story-telling does not. After all, they strapped my hands in this straining jacket, not my mouth. So, my dear friends, let me tell you what I remember. Let me tell you of all the different shows I have watched. Let me tell you what I think about all those shows. We have all the time to spare for ourselves. After all, I am in this TV show of yours and you are watching me. So let’s get back to the program, shall we?

-THE END-

Oh yeah, i've watched Inception a day ago. How cool was that movie?

Just keep running, John

Delaqroux Inc Update
Feeling that dark, emo-ish streak at the moment. Why not use em for some poetry writing?
After all, i scored a credit for ENGL201 and if there's one thing i learned from that subject is that emo writers produce good writings. Why not hop on the bandwagon, sneak in, wait for your moment. And run for it?

An infinite alleyway
A narrow path
An escape
Southwards it points
To nothingness it brings me
Abyss
Such a pleasure
Just keep running, John.

An autumn forest
Thorns hidden
beneath the thick
Layer of dead, dried leaves
Shrill shriek when trodden
Ignore them
Hum a tune
Just keep running, John.

A dense space
Of darkness
Of black night sky
Southern-cross stars
Pointing northwards
Mislead the misguided

But who gives a fuck?
Just keep running,
John.

Dark A. Delaqroux
“Just keep running, John”
August 11^th, 2010 – 2.39am