Dark Side of the Moon

Feeling very Pink Floyd today. Yes Mel I do like some pink things.

Havent been blogging because I have nothing much to say. Though Bear and Shan might disagree, and say that I can talk alot of cock, I don't do it all the time when I am at home and bored.

Firstly I would like to start off by thanking Shan for hosting that wonderful picture of me on his blog, it is truly a comfort to to know that my friends find time in their personal life for me. Gambate!

Well what about the Dark Side of the Moon you might ask. As we gaze into the night sky, what else might we see under the guise of the city lights but the moon. And as we look onto the moon, we will never see its darker side, the side where the man fears to live, for it embodies the lunacy of cultures over the world.

Maybe thats the mistake i've made in my blog, trying to write about my world in terms of the one I live in. Sometimes i wonder if i do live in a different world from one whose pressures and norms i've been exposed to. Is there something beyond my imagination, my mind that i have not truly discovered. Probably too afraid to find out.

As we gaze into the night sky, under the guise of city lights, all we see is the moon. Not because there is nothing else, but rather this reality we exist in shades our eyes from the stars. In the end, after the world was created, whether by big bang, or some other less well known adult video production house, everything was stardust.

We started with the notion that we were special, because we are born with potential to do great things, and maybe once upon a time, most of us believed it. That being made of stardust, and the vaults of our minds were worth something.

Most poeple grow into the concept that stars aren't that special, since everything is made of stardust, nothing really means more than anything else, and we are therefore no better than rocks.

Some of us come to the conclusion that we are not great, and the only thing that actually links us to stars would be the flammable gas coming out our behinds.

And yet there are some of us who actually believe we can achieve stardom. If we stick to our goals and believe. If we try hard enough and harder still. If we breathe in the air of stars (i pity german people), we will be able, like the little engine who could. However, you'd have to ask the people standing Caldecott Hill.

Why try to be something that you're not. We all grow up with the pressures of parents and the life that we should have. Truth is, nobody really knows what a stars suppoused to do, besides shine. Unless your parents are scientists, you're pretty safe with most conventinal descriptions.

Because parents usually want (does not mean they know) what's best for their children. And so they try to get us to shine.

Now we've grown up, we have to live with ourselves and ask ourselves what we want out of our lives, no matter how jaded we've become. Do we really know, or has it become some twisted version of what our parents wanted for us. Are we really as intelligent as we would like to believe?

And so as I stare accross my room, into the bookshelf, like a time capsule for me, my eyes are ever drawn to Does this mean My Kid's a Genius by Linda Perigo Moore.

I'd like to ask you all, in a sort of Freudian way, did your parents put too much pressure on you as a child?