Sleeplessness

I couldn't fall asleep the other day, had absolutely no idea why really; I was sleepless again last night, this time the reason was not alien to me.

It was a mixed feeling which you are probably familiar with. It encapsulated both excitement and fear. You finally had a wonderful opportunity to actually get to know her, it has been quite a torture of not having any constructive means for doing so since you first saw her. But just like the nature of any hopes, it terrifies you for the other side of high hope is high casualty. You start to analyze again, yes, every single word, action and look.

The trembling text-messaging fingers are back, and the anxiety in between is once more so familiar. You need allies which can provide you with life-saving informations. You don't know how this will evolve, the only thing you're sure of is that you can't get her out of your mind.

The World is Not Enough

In this world in which we inhabit we are unable to express ourselves truthfully, or at all, and an alternative is thus required because man's heart is not content. Throughout the history it found its outlet in art under its various forms. In recent years, it found in blogs an ideal, free and most of all, least time-consuming means to compensate the incompetence. Express yourself, the motto of all blogs is thus because that's what you are incapable of.

The virtue of virtual reality lies in its nature- virtual, which inherently disconnects it from the non-virtual. Hence all virtual expressions of the sentiment is to be disengaged automatically from the individual, which is non-virtual, the moment it is typed. The daily interaction between men ceased to have significances of any kind for the virtual has taken over the non-virtual as the supreme contender in this game of communication.

In consequence, the virtual becomes the real, and vice versa. And man, despite being aware of the substitution taking place, is powerless in this regard for he knows not how to express himself in a real setting occupied by equivalents. The counter measure cunningly devised is that of frivolity. Under its guise, man is to survive the day and head back for the safety of virtual reality. As a result, there is nothing left in the world but the virtual, ergo the world is not enough.

Port Augusta, South Australia

Yesterday I came home early from the library, around 1730 because I wasn't in the right mood for my thesis- sitting there the whole afternoon and can just barely squeeze out a couple of shameful lines, despite the glorious 2 pages the day before.

Today, following last night's dedication of searching for good free Mac games on the internet, I stumbled upon Oberin, a Mac only online multiplayer role-playing game (I know, I shouldn't be playing games but studying). Unlike any other games that I've played over the years, in Oberin the name of your character needs to be approved by a Game Master before you can settle with it, and that gives me quite a lot of headache. First, it always takes me ages to come up with a name I like. Second, my first bid for an official name, Skotos, was met with I'm sorry.

So right now I'm trying to come up with a good one and somehow my thoughts found them drifted towards Australia and the places I'd been while I was there. Well, if I should go to the Game Master with an Adelaide, Darwin o Sydney proposal I would surely be sent back to where I'm now. It's got to be something less heard of.

Then there's Aileron, I wonder if Mike's still working there on his giant statue or has he moved somewhere else? I scrolled down the map and saw Port Augusta. Funny how such a tiny sector on the map would take me such a long time to cover on my pushbike, boy, I did spend quite a while there, didn't I? Long enough that I greeted the librarian the way I would to my neighbour and vice versa, so you're off to Coober Pedy tomorrow eh, son? I got acquainted with the local doc so well, that I even rang him to say goodbye.

I remember the way the commercials put the name of the locality at the end, like blah blah blah Aussie Bloke Pharmaceutical, Port Augusta. They were the kind of low-budget, fast-talking, appearing-3-in-a-row-or-alternatively types. The wounded kangaroo wrapped in a blanket in the backseat of the car; chatting with the seemingly tired girl who went out for some fresh air while I was cooking dinner in the car park next to the cheap hotel; and the two... Blast it! I'm back in my usual in-search-of-lost-time mood, I shouldn't travel so much because that will inevitably produce more "lost times", but the world is too big and the desire to see them all too great, so I'm hopeless.