Entries for December, 2005
For the past few months, I've had an almost overwhelming desire to travel.
Mabye it's because I've been stuck here in the same place for the past few months while others have staked their claims of independence away from home.
Maybe it's because I'm a hopeful romantic that envisions himself halfway across the world as a handsome vagabond with the brisk wind ruffling his hair as he gazes musingly at the sunset. [I say hopeful, for hopeless romantics never get very far, and, let's face it - they tend to lose sight of all things rational and reasonable at the mere thought of a Hollywood-perfect moment.]
Or maybe it's because I just want to travel, damn you. Stop staring at me like that and mind your own business.
I went to the bookstore, and, on a whim, purchased a collection of short stories by Ernest Hemingway. I guess it seemed right for the mood I was in, you know? Hemingway just exudes the character of the traveler. You don't see travelers sitting on a train on a rainy day reading Shakespeare or Toni Morrison. They read Hemingway. They sip light coffee and accept a lump of sugar with a courteous nod. And so on.
They're opening an exhibit of the Titanic on the museum/ship The Queen Mary. With NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN artifacts from the ruins of the tragedy that befell the passengers of the mostest greatest ship of all time in 1912.
My God. I cannot believe people are still trying to milk profit and fame from the horrid movie from like ten years ago. Seriously, did anyone give a damn about the Titanic before Leo DiCaprio and Katie Winslet fogged up their movie screens? Would people be interested in wasting their time gawking at the crap from the stupid ship if the stupid movie didn't win like 34 billion Academy Awards?
It's not like they're real artifacts, anyway. Not like a newly discovered ape bone that proves how we evolved from pond scum or a Black Sea tablet that shows Saddam Hussein's family lineage tracing his bloodline back to the Irish.
Nope. You get to pay money to look at slippers. And washtubs. And makeup boxes. And salvaged boat parts. Look. A propeller. Goody. A top hat. Wow. A porcelain toilet bowl. I can't believe it's still intact after nearly a hundred years, disregarding the fact that it's been sitting in a virtual underwater safe, undisturbed for a century.
The sad part is, no one's stupid enough to go see all that crap.
What's sadder is, I'm probably wrong.
One more week of final exams.
Then what?
Written by jihwan at 02:47 AM.
It's 6:02 am. As I begin to write this overdue entry, I am slouched in my swivel chair in my boxers and a wifebeater, hoping my intermittent coughing doesn't wake my family. I'm wearing socks because my feet are cold, and am obviously suffering from a visit from a persistent insomniac spirit. I have Selected Stories of O'Henry cracked open to my favorite short story as my new Lyn CD croons a mellow background for my thoughts.
(Emo)
Written by jihwan at 07:33 AM.