Friday, June 09, 2006 | 7:22 AM

I think I am having some sort of identity crisis, or something. Along the lines of rediscovering myself. Of course, it may also be remotely connected to the crazy numbers of comics I have been reading.

I have been like, reading 3 out of 10 issues of compilations of The Sandman. So that would explain the crazy phrases I used in the earlier entries, (as a result of both reading too much of the comics, and blogging in daylight.) And me reaching the end of the whole Sandman series and needing a bit of time to get over his death and get some closure is probably rubbing off on part of my mood too. And all those comics I have been reading. And a variety of DC stuff (mostly Batman collaborations with other illustrators, and The Justice League stuff) and a little reluctantly, Marvel stuff, which is not so much of The Incredible Hulk, but more of The Punisher and The Daredevil stuff.

Come on, let me indulge in this world for a while longer more before reality snaps me out of it.

All these influences from my brother is turning me into a comic geek too. Eek. If one day when you guys are telling me about some new X Men or Superman adaptations and I start doing a know-it-all sneer and unleash a verbal torrent criticising the movie and stuff, PLEASE SHOOT ME.

Of course not, you doofus. I would likely be very mad and bitch slap you back. Just telling me nicely would do.

Anyway, as I was saying, it is just that, my re-discovery of books sort of feels as if an imprisoned Magneto in an iron free cell got re-aquainted with his favourite element in the world again.
I am feeling like Magneto all right. Made me realise that I havent got to read for pleasure for a loong time. Responsibility as a student has made one very much a bookworm for all the wrong reasons. And that, I still have my appetite for books intact despite the long hiatus. For that, I am content.

If only I can read the books in my sleep as dreams.

Been cut off from non-family interaction since Tuesday, and all these cooping up at home apparently is turning me back into the old shell of me again. It is so.. disturbing the ease, and the sense of familarity I felt when I slipped back into my reclusive and rather paranoid state. It felt like being trapped in front of the headlights with thousands of ideas on how to escape yet not being able to carry out even one of them to save you from being crushed by this huge block of, I dont know, judgement? But having a quiet home to yourself for a few days is really quite good for your soul. And it is just so easy to sit and draw or read the hours away. And do a little housework like sweeping the floor and stuff and enjoying it.

Dance a dance with the broomstick, and watch as all those dust mites flee in awe of your marvelous dance moves.

Was very disappointed when I finally went online on Wed to check up on the Shine festival. The submission for the thing I wanted to particpate in ended on Monday. Sorry Ali and Liyan. Sigh. And I found out, it wasnt just the Lindy Hop. They had quite a few dances, like 50s swing, 60s jazz and those kind of stuff. Oh my, the knowledge definitely didnt help ease the pain. Sigh. That really upsetted me quite a bit. Such that I felt inspired to put down some of the stuff I want to accomplish within the next 5 years. And what came out of the whole thing led to another self growth goals kinda thing. Which, yeah, is probably something which somehow affected (not in a bad way) my mood during the week too.

Wow, I just realised that I seem to sound more coherent as compared to my earlier entries! Which probably is not very hard to achieve, judging by the ramblings I typed out in some bright-sun-induced-comics-influenced moments.

Just some remmants of the mental storm I had a few morns ago now and I am probably done. Afew days ago, I was feeling highly suffocated, by all those thoughts of people reading this and stuff. And I was wondering, if I have to separate mk and km again. Hah. I wonder how many actually know what I am talking about. Because this part of me didnt used to be like this, and I was having problems dealing with this change, which came along simply because changes are the only things constant.

I have been sounding like, and am gona sound like a Sandman comic freak sprouting all these lines with reference to the the series, I know. And the worse thing is, noone is gona understand what all these references mean because no one has read it yet, and even if you did, (whoever oyu are), I doubt we are sharing the same frequency for you to understand what that world emans to me.

Still, at the risk of being lambasted as a comic freak, I shall open the closet and declare that Neil Gaiman was not something whichI picked up on after that essay I worte but before that. And that he represents a lot about a world of me which has been around for a long time, so I would appreciate it if no one flings all those poser accusations at me. Of course, I am being paranoid. I admit it on this one. I am freaking out quite a bit on this.

Anyway, what I am trying to say is, change is very much inevitable, and that, Morpheus died as a result of not changing fast enough. He did change, mind you, though it took him 3 millenia and 72 years imprisoned in a glass dome to start and change, but in the end, his gain in humanity and compassion made him less stuffy and less stuck to his need to stick to the rules, but still he lost his life in the end.

Had he remain cold and unconformist, he may still live. Still that heartless a person, but still very much alive. Would he have wanted that? Is a life that precious?

If the whole world says you are wrong, or is behaving in a manner because you are wrong, does ending your life immediately means everything will be relatively better? Or does taking a more arduous path with an unknown destination, trying to change, better?

Dont think the world will change for ya eh?

"And I wish for world peace."- Ms Congeniality

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