Moving to tumblr

i'm focussing my efforts on my tumblr page - http://borstalboy.tumblr.com/ it will be mostly pics and short posts. not as angstsy as this one. haha!

As Long as Your Eyes are Blue

As Long as Your Eyes are Blue
by
A. B. 'Banjo' Paterson

"Will you love me, sweet, when my hair is grey
And my cheeks shall have lost their hue?
When the charms of youth shall have passed away
Will your love as of old prove true?

"For the looks may change, and the heart may range
And the love be no longer fond;
Will you love with truth in the years of youth
And away to the years beyond?"

Oh, I love you, sweet, for your locks of brown
And the blush on your cheek that lies --
But I love you most for the kindly heart
That I see in your sweet blue eyes.
For the eyes are the signs of the soul within,
Of the heart that is leal and true,
And, my own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

For the locks may bleach, and the cheeks of peach
May be reft of their golden hue;
But, my own sweetheart, I shall love you still,
Just as long as your eyes are blue.

I Am

just bought a video cam app for iphone 3g, so expect some videos here soon. for now, enjoy the poem below.

I Am John Clare (1793 - 1864)

I am - yet when I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivion host
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost,
And yet I am - and live, with shadows tossed

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest, that I loved the best,
Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod,
A place where woman never smiled or wept,
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below - above the vaulted sky.

Whan that April whith his shoures soote

from The General Prologue to The Canterbury Tales - Geoffrey Chaucer (1340? - 1400)

Whan that April whith his shoures soote
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendered is the flour;
When Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hat in every holt and heeth
The tenfre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his half cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye
(So priketh hem nature in hir corages);
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seeken straunge strondes,
To fern halwes, kowthe on sondry londes;
And specially from every shores ende
Of Engelond to Caunterbury they wende,
The holy blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.

(lines 1 - 18)

i had to memorise this for school. i remembered lines 1-14, and had to look up the rest of it. and would you be surprised to know that i've yet to find some use for it? i thought about trying it in a pub, but i'm afraid i might get my head kicked in for being a pretentious show-off twat. so why am i posting this now? well, the first line referred to the month of April. so, do you see how my mind works now?

interestingly, i also saw a film of the Canterbury Tales directed by Pier Paolo Pasolini many years ago. an x-rated version, i might add. it was boring as boring could be. watch it at your own risk.

:D anyway, read this post and be cultured. haha! good day.

My true love hath my heart and I have his

My true love hath my heart and I have his

My true love hath my heart and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given.
I hold this dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
My true love hath my heart and I have his.

His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his because in me it bides.
My true love hath my heart, and I have his.

Sir Philip Sidney (1554 - 86)

See bacterial invasion with your own eyes!

Here is a confocal microscopy movie of a cell that's expressing a particular protein that is tagged with a green fluorescent protein (GFP) from jellyfish. The cell is then infected with bacteria (appearing in red). Note that as the each bacterial particle lands, the green host proteins accumulate at the base. This accumulation only occurred where the bacterium landed, indicating that there is a "rercruitment" at the landing site of this GFP-tagged protein. This recruitment implies a role for this host protein in bacterial invasion, and that the bacteria somehow usurps this protein to facilitate infection. A nice demonstration of how bacteria hijacks the host cell components.

On Waterloo Bridge

AFTER THE LUNCH (Wendy Cope)

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes,
The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove
And try not to notice I've fallen in love.

On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:
This is nothing. You're high on the charm and the drink.
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?

On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair
I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care.
The head does its best but the heart is the boss-
I admit it before I am halfway across.

This poem makes me smile; the only reason why I'm posting it. It is so light and carefree, almost childlike; the person experiencing a pure and unblemished emotion. I hope you enjoy it.

A pointless post

this song has been playing over and over in my head. not sure how it came up. i think it might have been a twitter convo on musicals. anyway, i decided to record myself, and used the voice clip as a soundtrack for a video of my little alien friend. you can tell i've got too much time on my hands. and that's good because i've been terribly busy the past six weeks. i almost reached the point of cracking, but managed to hold it together, thanks to my twitter friends. not sure what the point of this post is, but i will likely edit it in the next few days or so to actually have something worthy of reading.

i wrote a three-paragraph post about the relative intimacy of a passionate kiss and sex, but blogger crashed and my draft was never saved. it's hard to rewrite the whole things because what i'd written was almost a stream of consciousness - from brain to keyboard. anyway, in my opinion a kiss is more intimate, but just based on my own experiences. i had anonymous sex, one-night stands with no strings attached. i really had no genuine plans of seeing those guys. there may have been kissing involved there, but they weren't memorable. it was empty. in other words, all the physical things i did during those times did not yield any emotional bonds. on the other hand, all the meaningful relationships that i've had all started with a kiss, and the foundations for those relationships were those respective first kisses. i would like to reiterate that these are personal views. some or all of you may disagree with me, and i expect that. we all have different experiences.

i posted this on twitter, that kisses may be more intimate than sex. one reply that i received actually gave me an interesting insight into this question. he replied that escorts who sell sex for money never kiss, and would not take more money to kiss or be kissed by the client. to me that speaks volumes. sex can be sold, and kisses are not.

regardless, any form of intimacy where there is a great deal of emotional investment should be valued. when we have gotten out of our system the urge for one-night stands and/or anonymous sex, a truly passionate kiss would be a good place to start. :)

Happy The Man

HAPPY THE MAN

Happy the man, and happy he alone,
He who can call today his own:
He who, secure within, can say,
Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.
Be fair or foul or rain or shine
The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.
Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

This would be a good reading during my funeral, when it comes. Although, I'm not sure it applies at the moment. I don't think I can say that if I die tomorrow that I was happy. I'm content... not sure I'm happy. Some might say that only a fine line separates contentment from happiness, or that the difference may just be semantics; but for others it might be a gulf as wide as the Grand Canyon. I'd like to think that for me it's just a fine line that separates me from happiness. I feel that. Do I know what the missing piece is? Yes, I do, but I'm not going to share it with you... for now. :)

Insecurities

insecurities, we all have them; and a common source of them is our fear of ridicule and criticisms from others. i have insecurities, but i think they're a bit different from the traditional ones. i really couldn't care less about criticisms and ridicule from people i do not know, or if i do know them, i do not care about. they are just not worth the emotional energy it would take to keep reminding myself that i am better than the person they think i am. my insecurities stem from the fear of criticism from people i care about, those i know AND know me. those criticisms hurt. and the wounds they inflict, whilst they heal, always leave scars; scars that you don't notice unless you look harder, deeper. they hurt because some of the time, i know that there are some truths to them. and other times, i just see them as preludes to rejection, that imminent time when you are anticipate those dreaded words - "you're not good enough for me. there is someone better out there." they may not be the exact words, but what i have written would probably be the words that i would hear. funny how words get twisted when one is in this frame of mind. insecurities stemming from criticisms from people i care about - i am afraid of them. i seldom dwell on them, but when i do, i get paralysed. i don't know how others deal with this. is there an effective way of dealing with this? or do we just bury it, forget it, and hope that it doesn't reemerge?

maybe the fear of rejection manifests as the insecurities i refer to. i guess the trick is for me to find someone that will see me and love me for who i am. but it's a catch-22 isn't it? in order to find THE one, i will need to bare myself, show every faults and vulnerabilities to the world, and hope that i will catch the attention of THE one. i've done it before, and i think i can do it again.

i may have already begun...

I'm a poet, and didn't know it.

In the midst of sundown's haze and hues
My shadow's form, it reaches far.
The coming twilight hails the moon,
And greeted by the evening star.

My thoughts are held by tenuous peace,
My hands gripped tight by insecurity's throes.
I meekly summon with desperate plea,
The brave spirit to overcome my foes.

I now stand alone on granite rock,
Feeling the world's gentle rhythm ties.
I'm forced to hark back to my blackened past,
Alas! I now see with enlightened eyes.

********
i wrote this whilst tweeting. LOL. no idea what to use as a title for this. any suggestions? if you suggest a title i like, i'll give you credit. :D i go through these spurts of "artistic" dabbling, and i actually noticed that i've not had one in months, which was unusual for me. concentrating too much on work, i guess. this was probably my mind's way to telling me to balance things out. and tonight i gave in, and in hindsight, gladly. :) we shall see when i next get inspired to do something "artistic".