Desmond and Blogging's Sake.

There's been a slight struggle to blog these past few days. Perhaps writing-me has expended all his blog-worthy topics. Or maybe it's just that thing with me and laziness. Whatever it is, I'm not here to judge, least of all myself.

So let's just leave it at that: I'm blogging for blogging's sake.
Please don't judge me.

Desmond and the Rascals.

So much to say, so little motivation to; World, I am a lazy, lazy bum -- at least with respect to blogging. School has started and the readings, projects and other whatnots have been waiting in line, all ready to jump me at the blow of a whistle.

Come to think of it, the whistle has already been blown.

Needless to say (although I still will for want of something to blog), blogging has been a little more difficult to find time for. Now before you burst open the celebratory drinks and go around congratulating each other for my trivial job undone, I will have you know that writing helps me find myself.

You know how it is, the journey within; discovering your inner-child; getting in touch with the man inside. And we have to find our own methods towards discovery. Well, writing helps me realise that at the core of it all, I am really, really just a lazy bum.

A lazy, lazy bum.

(You must take all he says with a sea of salt, this Individual reckons. After all, there's no such thing as an inner-child. There is an inner-thigh, and this he has bruised quite ingloriously. This Individual feels motivated to blame his night cycling for his bruise, but he must be honest -- it was really the fault of his (should-have-been-non-existent) inner-child. Children can be such rascals.)

Desmond and the Violent Man-Fear.

I thought I'd better squeeze in one last incoherent ramble before my holidays bow out for the next few months. It's sad, yes -- as the end of vacations always are -- and it's in these moments when the end draws nigh that the fear of loss and the departure of consistency grips you the hardest.

When you're left feeling choked and suffocated, your instinct then works two ways: it either attempts to pull you back to pre-pre-end safety, or it propels you beyond the end, into the start of a new season. It fights to release the grip, pulling at your attacker; or it pushes at him, in a fruitless bid to convince a violent man to leave.

But maybe the man simply wants to talk. Or maybe he is numb from head to toe, and his hand against your throat is just that - his hand on your neck. Harmless, innocent, benign. Powerless. And weak. When you finally do stop struggling, perhaps it will be plain: you were choking the air out of yourself with another man's hand. And while no one has ever (and can never) strangle himself (to death), maybe you'd save yourself all the fear if you'd just stop worrying.

Tomorrow must come, as it always has, until the Higher Power says otherwise. Months must come, and Pre-pre-ends must be promoted to Pre-ends, and then Ends, just as New Seasons become Seasons, then finally Ended Seasons.

Time and Tide wait for no man. Any strife with Them is a useless attempt to turn away seasons. Seasons will turn themselves, in time.

So then, my fast-ending Holidays, I bid you goodbye, with a hint of sorrow and sadness. But there still is hope in me yet, because Holidays will come again. And until Again comes, I will yet hope.

Desmond and The Need to Get A Cow.

How absolutely strange and cool is this?! I want mine to be drawn by a cow.
With Sprite instead of Coke.

Desmond, Avatar and Notting Hill.

*Possible Spoilers Ahead.*

I watched Avatar (in 3D!) yesterday, as my first movie of the year, and I really liked it. Then when I got home, I found Notting Hill playing on HBO, and that was bloody brilliant too, as Hugh Grant might say.

I must admit I've never watched Notting Hill in its entirety. Yesterday's viewing was the closest to the full thing. And it was predictable, and sweet, and a little incredulous at some points. But it was also simple: just about a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.

Avatar was pretty nifty too. It's what you'd get if you crossed Pocahontas with Narnia and Smurfs on steroids. The story was, like Notting Hill, predictable. Still, I think that predictability made the film work. With all its stunning technical animations and scenes, it was its simple storyline that balanced out the film.

The simplicity of the story reflected Jake Sully's (the protagonist, played by Sam Worthington) person: flawed hero with a quiet strength, who's unannounced. Had it been a bigger, more complicated story, it would have detracted from the earnestness Sully (and Worthington) carries. And like the (somewhat political and LiveEarth-y) current of the film, it's a reminder to return to simpler things.

Avatar managed to carry through its bladder-defying 162 minutes without really losing steam. And I liked that its messages were subtle and subservient to the plot. Of course, this is all subjective, but I think I enjoyed the film enough to ramble about it with such bias.

Critics often lament the lack of surprises and clever twists in shows. They throw a million and one expectations, and then wonder why they leave feeling unsatisfied. And perhaps that's valid. But sometimes, when faced with a world that's ever-changing and oh-so-unpredictable, it's the constant things that appeal to me.

The unchanging, if predictable, stories.

Desmond and the Mashup 09'.

I don't normally fancy dance music, and I have a certain disdain for remixes, but this is really rather nifty. Some guy created a mashup of the top 25 songs of 2009, and it's a pretty catchy result.

Still can't believe Christmas is over and it's another twelve months to go, but regardless, Happy New Year!!