Mistress of Sleep

Mistress of the nocturnal,
Come ye unto me,
Dance with me those familiar steps,
Enchant me with thy beauty.

Bring ye along thy chambermaids,
Let them ring thou round,
They shall bequeath thee orchids,
Joy and laughter shall resound.

Lead me then my dear maiden,
Lead me unto blissful sleep,
Let me lie in thy full bosom,
Let me fall in thy embrace deep.

Grant me beloved thy gift of dreams,
That we may sail the calm night sky,
Together we shall chase the stars,
Chase wonders that escape the eye.

May I ask that this never end?
This union of heart and soul,
Gently thou whispereth unto me,
Words that doeth make me whole....

"Go now dear beloved,
Go now as thou must,
Another night I'll come again,
In that thou must trust."

The Flavor Of Life

Life ultimately comes in only one flavor.

Bittersweet.

I Hate SPAM

Not the meat though. I am personally a huge lover of canned meat mashed from them pork parts. There is no better staple meat to gorge in with such delight.

That aside, I hate spam. Spam as in unsolicited messages generally of dubious and shady nature. Yes, I am sure we have all heard about how spam is hurting the productivity around the globe where business of the modern day is integrated tightly with that little box we'd like to call our 'Personal Computer'. (Hmm.. Personal Computer, what an oxymoron)

Regardless, I can't help but grudgingly admire those spammers. We can only imagine the amount of effort put in by various parties to attempt to eradicate spam via aritificial intelligence (hmmm...yet another oxymoron?) and still to no avail. I don't foresee that things will really get better in the near future for two simple reasons:
1) No computer is intelligent enough to discern what human beings are able to
AND
2) Sadly, one man's spam is another man's meat. What is spam to me may not be to you.

I can also foresee that the incereased 'connectivity' between people on the globe via technology will simply open up more doors for these 'spammers'.
Look at the evolution!
Back in the days where the simple telephone ruled the roost, we had 'tele-marketing' (no offence to any tele-marketeers out there).
Then came email and the Internet, spawning mass emailing campaigns, hawking Viagra and Christian Personal Credit Schemes. (I am so not amused)
Now with further connectivity, spam comes fast and furious in all directions! Instant Messaging, Short Message Services (SMS) and for crying out loud, even f***in BLOG COMMENTS!

This is causing me a lot of emotional distress. Just when I thought this lil blog of mine is sitting staring out into the vasts of cyberspace all alone and I see this 'comment' posted, my lil heart skipped a beat. Finally! Someone noticed me!
Imagine my disgust when I pop open the comment section just to see this picture of this old balding bloke and his campaign for 'colon cancer' asking for my attention. A pox on you whoever you are! If colon cancer don't take you, I am gonna take a zucchini and stuff it up that colon of yours if I ever find you!

Anyways, my ramblings are totally self-serving. I reckon, the only way for spam to be effectively controlled should be like how you control the transmittance of some sexual disease.

The answer is with education. Only when people stop being gullible and realize that the 'Million Dollar A Week Scheme' is about as authentic as WWE Wrestling will this epidemic be effectively put to a stop.

Having said that, such utopia will never exist. Simply because, in the increasingly connected world, there is always a chance, that a gullible, ignorant and stupid fool is just over the other line.

A Lovely Little Paradox

It has been said, that in order for myself to be happy, I would want you to be happy.
For you to be happy, I would hope to give you a full life.
Holding on to you so sefishly is something I yearn but dare not want.
No one would want to live life and look back with regret at that moment unfulfilled.
I would have to let you explore that big big world of yours filled with your own beauty and fantasy.
That world that would only belong to you and no one else.
Nothing I can possibly offer to you to fill that void. Nothing except freedom and my blessings for you to pursue that moment and time in your life.
I know that time will pass and probably we would've lost something so precious in my bid to help you be truly happy.
It has been said, if it was meant to be, it will come a full circle. But, we will always gain some, and we will lose some. Who is to question what was worth it?
If we never find the fire again, for this one moment in time though, I would want you to know, that I did love you more than myself.

Proseac
In remembrance of something I felt a long long long time ago.

Geeky Me

Oh yeah. I am such a geek. Just to prove it, here are sample screenshots from my desktop.
Just simply gotta love Linux.

Notice the Mac style menu?

Showcased are the transparent effects from the non-focused windows as compared to the focused solid window.

Which Un-?

Adulterated?
Break?
Disclosed?
Bind?
Shackled?
Chained?
Disturbed?
Restricted?
Restrained?
Done?
Known?
Holy?
Requited?
Loved?
Kept?

Just which Un- do I feel?

Time

Every hour wounds, the last one kills.

Quoted :- Anonymous

'Neath That Tree

On the earth somewhere stood a lone hill.
On the lone hill, stood a lone tree.
The tree was ancient and it was old. Ages passed the tree by. Children came, lovers went. Peace came, war went. Winds licked its bark, the roots drank the rain. Rain that fell and seeped deep into the earth, the tree drank. The sun scorched as the moonlight bathed, things came, things went.
The tree was grand once, now just a forlorn figure of better days. It looked like it mourns for the earth. Mighty branches no longer sturdy, it now looks droop, as if in mourning. It mourns for it stood. Death would not claim it. It just stood forgotten, consumed by time. Still it stood, wretched. Leaves fall from him one by one. Each falling leaf, a measure of splendour lost.
Sometimes, the wind will blow, its mocking whisper. The wind cuts through, leaving behind the sound of ruffling leaves. Sometimes, the tree moans as the wind cuts through its hollowed parts.
Sometimes the moon casts its glow. The tree in turn casts it shadows. Once upon a time, the tree cast a comforting shade with its proud bloom. Today it casts a shadow like a wight. Like a creature of the night, thin and frail, the shadow stretches longer. Like craving fingers the shadow stretches, wanting to wrap around what it could hold on to. It could hold on to nothing.
Looking at the shadow is like looking into a mirror. As much as the mirror is like an object of vanity, it also reminds of ones passing beauty. So it was with the tree as it looks upon its shadow.
All of this I considered as I looked upon the lonely tree. It had no company nor reason to live except for existence. Nothing but empty existence. I could feel its tears that it could not cry. I could hear its sob that it could sound.
I smile. We have a strange understanding. I took my seat beneath the tree. I looked at the tree once and I looked no more.