I suppose this was the first time I had ever felt an urge not to be. Never an urge to die, far less an urge to put an end to myself - simply an urge not to be. This disgusting, hostile and unlovely world was not made for me, nor I for it. It was alien to me and I to it.
~Stephen Fry, Moab is My Washpot

Done first semester of university!!!!! =D
Time to pack and go home.

I am finding myself increasingly unable to tolerate what some people say when having a conversation.

There's something about these conversations... They drag one into this raging mood, depressing... Then it causes one to act in a manner which is unfit for society (or at least, unfit for one's values/beliefs about what society should be - cognitive dissonance)... Then it leaves one feeling like shit for a long time.

I don't want to change for the worse.

filament magazine

... It's been a long time since my last post.. =/
Though, once exams are done this thing should be up and running more frequently.

Meanwhile:

filament magazine, the thinking woman's crumpet

"The women's magazine inspired by the rocket science that women have brains and eyes."

"Filament does

- articles you actually want to read

- men photographed for women

- high-quality writing and design

Filament doesn't do

- fashion

- diets

- gossip"

Personally, I have a little problem with what they portray this magazine to be; what the style/image of the magazine is. But, I do have exams to study for -__-, and really should stop procrastinating. Also, I think the magazine is extremely aesthetically pleasing and enjoyable, so I'm not going to be too picky about it.

Till next time...

*Speaking of magazines, I submitted some art samples to Shroud Magazine about 5 months ago, and they still have not gotten back to me yet...

*EDIT*
Okay, I take back what I said. Upon further investigation (aka, actually reading the content of the articles), this is like a porn magazine disguised as a classy/sophisticated mag for intelletual people.
This is very disappointing -________-.
Oh well, some of the pictures are still enjoyable.

Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes

'Twas on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had dy'd
The azure flow'rs that blow;
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclin'd,
Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declar'd;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw: and purr'd applause.

Still had she gaz'd; but 'midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The Genii of the stream;
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Thro' richest purple to the view
Betray'd a golden gleam.

The hapless Nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretch'd in vain to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat's averse to fish?

Presumptuous Maid! with looks intent
Again she stretch'd, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between.
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smil'd)
The slipp'ry verge her feet beguil'd,
She tumbled headlong in.

Eight times emerging from the flood
She mew'd to ev'ry wat'ry god,
Some speedy aid to send.
No Dolphin came, no Nereid stirr'd;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A Fav'rite has no friend!

From hence, ye Beauties, undeceiv'd,
Know, one false step is ne'er retriev'd,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize,
Nor all, that glisters, gold.

~Thomas Gray