'All this to explain your choice of colours?'-
Inevitability Made Manifest
I have this itty-bitty-quark-sized thing about explaining myself whenever someone tells me not to be angry when in fact, I am as calm as Jalan Raja Chulan on Raya morning.
So dear 'driver', pardon me for responding to your comments in such a fashion. I am not angry, really. Well, maybe very very slightly annoyed. But my wrath is a thing of tremendous proportions I normally reserve for the driver of a Proton Waja with licence plate number WJP 5246, not for people who question my choice of layout colour.
Also, I feel compelled to correct what I think is your (none the less very flattering) impression of me and my "clear mind and objectivity".
Yes, red and black can signify death, blood, war, disrruption, rebellion. But they can also signify passion, style and hell yeah, kinkiness (thanks dalie *wink*). And this blog is my own receptacle for all the times when my mind feels neither clear nor objective.
I am a person who needs to vent her anger. To rave and rant. I have been told that I do not suffer fools gladly. I have also been told that I have a low threshold for what I consider to be foolish behaviour. I get annoyed at the daily rudeness one encounters in urban life. I get mad just picturing George Dubya Bush's face in my head. That, you must admit, is a fairly wide range.There have been times when I have worn an angry path through the floor whilst muttering tirades to myself for want of someone to listen to me.
Unfortunately, civilisation would not exist if people went about continuously raving and ranting. My life would not be very peaceful. The people around me (see the long-suffering yet ever patient Mr Nads for details) would be dragged down my spiral of sometimes insane anger. Hence this blog.
This blog was started one autumn evening during my second year at uni. I was living in a house in which not one truly kindred spirit could be found. Mr Nads was at this time only Pending Mr Nads and there are only so many long distance angry phone calls one can make. Good friends like Min and Tots could not be counted on to listen to my sometimes lucid, sometimes insane, regularly pre-menstrual thoughts on everything and anything, all the time without suggesting the use of a padded room and straightjacket.
(Please understand that for the sake of flow I exaggerate details. I don't walk around in a state of indignation 24-7. I have even been described as "nice", believe it or not)
Anyway, this blog. This blog is not a place where my mind chooses to be clear or objective. It is mainly my vent, my place to release steam so that I do not explode and therefore create a mess on Mr Nads' beloved Ikea carpet. Mr Nads calls it my 'evil alter ego'. Most of the time, it is a place where a vocal person can voice out thoughts she doesn't for the sake of polite society and friendships, express ( as vehemently) in real life. Sometimes, its where I record thoughts I feel are worthy of recording. Often, it's just nonsense I am surprised is ever taken seriously.
The point of this lengthy exposition is, I like the red and black. Chaos, 'righteous anger', passion, bloody-mindedness, that's what this place is for. It helps keep my 'real' life on the blue-and-white path of clarity and objectivity.
And no, I 'tak marah pun'.
nads went at 00:01