Cupid’s Wings and Cobweb Rings

View of A Wonderland - Easter 2008

Currently listening to: Password –Ludovico Einaudi / Turin Brakes

Currently reading: Revision notes and Catcher In The Rye

Currently staring at: The laptop screen / a postcard of Keukenhof

As I am writing this, I’m thinking if I ought to write a draft(but that defeats the point of writing down your thoughts, surely it all becomes editted?), or be prepared to rewrite this again, or if I should, as every true writer(so I’m told in English lessons), be planning this.

Evidently, having done none of the above, I merely intend this post to be an accumulation of a number of thoughts that have occurred to me during inappropriate moments during the day.

My bus journey consisted of an unsuccessful attempt to do some work, and fed up of the music I was listening to (Matchbook Romance, if you’re interested), I started doodling – not pictures of insane animals, but words.

Words which were doodling about inside me.

Strange words, but what they mean to me is different from what they mean to you. I see good as good, you may think of good as ‘well, it’s not bad I suppose’.

Words are meant to explain, yet do they? Or perhaps stringing together words simply adds a new thought onto the long thread of thoughts. Except in science you could argue, but I’m in no mood for science at the moment.

So if words, the medium of expression, cannot always express, what can? The quest for the perfect word, regardless of how big a thesaurus one uses, is elusive. Or maybe it isn't, apart for from the likes of me.

A few more thoughts, which I hope I will be communicate to you in a more succinct and understandable way. I met a few words and pictures which got a point across quite well. The unavoidable headlines of the cyclone in Burma; the ravaged families, trees swooning all over, the Monks (in my opinion, facing the same angst as their Tibetan counterparts), the pride(or rather the arrogance and ignorance) of the government.

Of course, when one says Burma, one cries ‘Aung San Suu Kyi’ and is hastily reminded about her fight for restoration of democracy and human rights in her homeland. I’m not about to go on some holier-than-thou fest and start writing about the Dalai Lama and Michelle Bachelet, but you do wonder what would happen if the media did not exist. It’s acknowledged that we can’t look at the world through rosy-tinted lenses because of the media, but I wonder on what we are missing out on – perhaps we should be seeing the world through grimier lenses than the ones we use. I think we all need to make a trip to the opticians.

A final thought in my kneaded post. Today was a day of many ‘lasts’ for me – my last English lesson ( the highlight – hi-five-ing Mr M), my last Geography lesson (fabulous cake) and rather sadly, my last Classical Greek lesson ( booohooo). Maybe we should make it a day of beginnings as well – how about, for a change, we remember the distressed even when the cameras are elsewhere, for a change we try and express ourselves using words which make sense to us, and not try and fit into a stereotypical mould that society perceives is ‘right’. Do something.

How about you donate some money to aid the victims of Burma’s cyclone, contribute to a blog regarding it (the spoken word is a powerful tool, after all), or maybe for a change you do what you want, not what people expect(just don’t end up doing a ‘Dido’ – we wouldn’t want to see you dead), but let’s not see Cupid’s wings in cobweb rings.

So there you go, a rambling of things that you do not even care about, thoughts with no substance, a babbling of language that merely wasted time, insignificantly significant in the myriad of this place we call home - a post which I thought would be amazing… but the hypocrite in me comes out – I’m yet to use the words I really want to use – but it’s a good start.

UB, flamenco-ing in the aroma of jasmine and tuberose