boredom and Virginia?? huh?
boredom inspired me to clean my room, read my books, newpapers, write poems and go or dance classes today. not bad! considering i don't usually hang out with him. the thing about mr. boredom is he bores me sometimes, he gets you into a habit. a habit of just walking around the house scavenging food in the abyss of the fridge, just staring at the repeated patterns on the tiles of ur wall and hoping he would respond.
boredom also got me to wash the toilet today and later go over to my grandma's place and give her a huge hug and wet kiss and help her clean her house, all for my favourite asam pedas gravy.
boredom was helpful sometime in my life. because of boredom, i got myself a bike license. because of boredom i got a car license too. and because of boredom i do a lot of other things as well. i guess now u can picture how boredom affects my life. u get the point right.
right now boredom's right next to me. putting thoughts in my mind. thought insertion. oOo...first rank sign. I read about Sigmund freud once and his ideas about kids having sexual thoughts or tensions psychosocially which he thinks explains the aetiology of certain behavioural traits and that they're a harbinger for future misdemeanours.
Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf would have been what he wanted as patients, so articulate, so full of expression and ideas and so full of insinuation(s). all their ideas on death and dying and ending their lives, tragically. Who in the right mind would stuff one's head in an oven or go drowning oneself in some river in england? whatever it was there was some speculation of a hint of their impending (self-generated) doom. i got a chance to read Virginia's works...my gratitude to boredom of course, and somewhere along the book Mrs. Dalloway came the inspiration..what am i talking bout? inspiration i meant the trigger! shitz...
how?
i don't know maybe cause all her other books like "Jacob's room", "the Voyage out", "to the lighthouse" were like conventional. For her time like i think 1925 like that, "mrs. Dalloway" was an advancement in the art of storytelling, i mean if u compared her with her contemporaries like Plath, Lewis and Eliot. it delved into the individual. their characteristics and their lives are dramatized into monologues of their past experiences and exudes some creepiness, the novel moves forward thru these condensed experience. it's like the style of writing used by Chinese-American author Amy Tan in her book, the Joy Luck Club where her characters describe experiences, takes her readers to a time warp, more contemporary for those who cannot appreciate English written in 1925. and yes that was in 1925 long b4 she drowned herself in 1941? or something.
so there are events in her life that occur that lead to the culmination of all things. having thought so much about things, Virginia went into depression.
i also had the pleasure to read her diary entries and letters and i have here the last letter b4 the end:
it's addressed to her husband Leonard Woolf dated 28.03.1941
dearest
i want to tell you that you have given me complete happiness. no one could have ever done more than you have done. please believe that.
but i know that i shall never get over this: i am wasting your life. it is this madness. nothing anyone says can persuade me. you can work, and you will be much better without me. you see i can't write this even, which shows i am right. all i want to say is that until this disease came on we were perfectly happy. it was all due to you. no one could have been so good as you have been, from the very first till now. everyone knows that.
V
You will find Roger's letters to the Maurons in the writing table drawer in the Lodge. will you destroy all my papers.
So you see Virginia was unlucky cause she was born in a time when psychiatry was merely psychotherapy..talk talk talk till u drop, in her case drown. so even if it's irrelevant i will just say it. use the word depress sparingly, there are other people more deserving of the title. and yes, depression is curable and suicide is never a means to an end, a nasty one i might add.
so i've come a long way from being bored to gibberishing bout virginia. it just shows digressing takes you a long way. ok what crap is that?
anyway, i think i broke my ribs yeah think it's broken alright, it's like damn painful my chest. its the 2nd right rib. it's cause i landed on ma chest when i rolled over in bed yesterday. ouch! i know....it still is. i'm thinking of personal therapy but i guess it might not work. besides i can sooooo predict what the doctors are going to say.
"i'll give you some painkillers and will review you in 3 months and 6 months time. in the mean time you have to adapt by breathing using ur stomach instead of ur chest. if it gets worse i'll give you an open appointment for 3 months and u can come back anytime."
i will look at the prescription which says diclofenac or tramadol.
looks like i'll have to be sippin* my cough syrups again.
* Swallow It Purposefully to Prevent Intense paiN (SIPPIN)
friends at the moment: Mr. Boredom and Miss Sleepyhead
boredom also got me to wash the toilet today and later go over to my grandma's place and give her a huge hug and wet kiss and help her clean her house, all for my favourite asam pedas gravy.
boredom was helpful sometime in my life. because of boredom, i got myself a bike license. because of boredom i got a car license too. and because of boredom i do a lot of other things as well. i guess now u can picture how boredom affects my life. u get the point right.
right now boredom's right next to me. putting thoughts in my mind. thought insertion. oOo...first rank sign. I read about Sigmund freud once and his ideas about kids having sexual thoughts or tensions psychosocially which he thinks explains the aetiology of certain behavioural traits and that they're a harbinger for future misdemeanours.
Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf would have been what he wanted as patients, so articulate, so full of expression and ideas and so full of insinuation(s). all their ideas on death and dying and ending their lives, tragically. Who in the right mind would stuff one's head in an oven or go drowning oneself in some river in england? whatever it was there was some speculation of a hint of their impending (self-generated) doom. i got a chance to read Virginia's works...my gratitude to boredom of course, and somewhere along the book Mrs. Dalloway came the inspiration..what am i talking bout? inspiration i meant the trigger! shitz...
how?
i don't know maybe cause all her other books like "Jacob's room", "the Voyage out", "to the lighthouse" were like conventional. For her time like i think 1925 like that, "mrs. Dalloway" was an advancement in the art of storytelling, i mean if u compared her with her contemporaries like Plath, Lewis and Eliot. it delved into the individual. their characteristics and their lives are dramatized into monologues of their past experiences and exudes some creepiness, the novel moves forward thru these condensed experience. it's like the style of writing used by Chinese-American author Amy Tan in her book, the Joy Luck Club where her characters describe experiences, takes her readers to a time warp, more contemporary for those who cannot appreciate English written in 1925. and yes that was in 1925 long b4 she drowned herself in 1941? or something.
so there are events in her life that occur that lead to the culmination of all things. having thought so much about things, Virginia went into depression.
i also had the pleasure to read her diary entries and letters and i have here the last letter b4 the end:
it's addressed to her husband Leonard Woolf dated 28.03.1941
dearest
i want to tell you that you have given me complete happiness. no one could have ever done more than you have done. please believe that.
but i know that i shall never get over this: i am wasting your life. it is this madness. nothing anyone says can persuade me. you can work, and you will be much better without me. you see i can't write this even, which shows i am right. all i want to say is that until this disease came on we were perfectly happy. it was all due to you. no one could have been so good as you have been, from the very first till now. everyone knows that.
V
You will find Roger's letters to the Maurons in the writing table drawer in the Lodge. will you destroy all my papers.
So you see Virginia was unlucky cause she was born in a time when psychiatry was merely psychotherapy..talk talk talk till u drop, in her case drown. so even if it's irrelevant i will just say it. use the word depress sparingly, there are other people more deserving of the title. and yes, depression is curable and suicide is never a means to an end, a nasty one i might add.
so i've come a long way from being bored to gibberishing bout virginia. it just shows digressing takes you a long way. ok what crap is that?
anyway, i think i broke my ribs yeah think it's broken alright, it's like damn painful my chest. its the 2nd right rib. it's cause i landed on ma chest when i rolled over in bed yesterday. ouch! i know....it still is. i'm thinking of personal therapy but i guess it might not work. besides i can sooooo predict what the doctors are going to say.
"i'll give you some painkillers and will review you in 3 months and 6 months time. in the mean time you have to adapt by breathing using ur stomach instead of ur chest. if it gets worse i'll give you an open appointment for 3 months and u can come back anytime."
i will look at the prescription which says diclofenac or tramadol.
looks like i'll have to be sippin* my cough syrups again.
* Swallow It Purposefully to Prevent Intense paiN (SIPPIN)
friends at the moment: Mr. Boredom and Miss Sleepyhead
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