cambucolic.blogspot.com
bucolic(in)action: May 2009
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Saturday, May 23, 2009. And here, I should commend (and be grateful to the high heavens) to the three who did make a tremendous effort to respond. Ben, who I never really appreciated as much as I should and who for some reason is misunderstood by some, for the comment. I apologize for the distress, dear friend. And even though you barely understood what I wrote, the effort was well-appreciated. But most importantly, I truly value your unceasing ability to make me laugh. Where to, Ms. Daisy?
cambucolic.blogspot.com
bucolic(in)action: September 2007
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Wednesday, September 12, 2007. I know it is Daddy’s birthday. I was born with this ability to remember the birthdays of just about everybody who matter to me it’s uncanny…or maybe not. I have been trimming down that list of significant people in my life over the years that I’m down to twenty. I mean unless I have Alzheimer’s, I think I’d be able to remember at least twenty significant dates. Conveniently though, I ran out of prepaid phone load. So that’s that. I’m sorry about that. But with you, I can be...
cambucolic.blogspot.com
bucolic(in)action: June 2007
http://cambucolic.blogspot.com/2007_06_01_archive.html
Thursday, June 28, 2007. Nostalgia as sounding board. Men accumulate more ignorance than they can assimilate and people are bundled of prejudices wrapped in misinformation and tied together with rubber bands of mistakes. So who ever said I'm no longer cynical? All this time I've been preaching radical positivism, but when push comes to shove, I'm as neurotic a person as they come. Only death as surcease from paradox can fully heal me of this affliction by the modern man. Unfortunately, I'm one of them.
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bucolic(in)action: July 2007
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Monday, July 23, 2007. I am reading Murakami by the window, patiently waiting- Naoko searching for words in space. It's one of those uneventful Sunday nights when there's nothing really good (not that there's ever anything good) on TV. I have a half full mug of milk tea beside me, courtesy of a former student who just arrived from Taiwan, and an ashtray half-filled with cigarette butts and two empty wrappers of Flat Tops. But it is there. I can feel it with unusual clarity. The details no longer matter.
cambucolic.blogspot.com
bucolic(in)action: bucolic in V-fib
http://cambucolic.blogspot.com/2009/05/bucolic-in-v-fib.html
Saturday, May 23, 2009. And here, I should commend (and be grateful to the high heavens) to the three who did make a tremendous effort to respond. Ben, who I never really appreciated as much as I should and who for some reason is misunderstood by some, for the comment. I apologize for the distress, dear friend. And even though you barely understood what I wrote, the effort was well-appreciated. But most importantly, I truly value your unceasing ability to make me laugh. Where to, Ms. Daisy?
cambucolic.blogspot.com
bucolic(in)action: May 2007
http://cambucolic.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html
Saturday, May 26, 2007. As we speak inflated. E Yevtuchenko once said that each poet is a farm worker if even a little bit. Well, this farm worker has been tilling the fields again after a very long drought. If not for anything, the pieces refusing all this time to hatch oblivion in my drawers may once again get another chance at life. Having said that, achieving transcendent emotional and cosmic heights in the process, shall we then continue with our newly-revived correspondence? Yes, I'm quite elated t...