Sitting in university on a Sunday day observing the world go by

Dear blog, my confidante of last resort. I am writing to you from melancholic enclosure of the Melbourne Uni Law building. It is strange to sit here. Familiar voices speaking familiar conversations drift around me. But when I turn there is a disconnect and all I see are strangers; the uni kids diligently at work on their assignments, ipods on, apple laptops busily a-typing (because you can always count on the lawyers to be the role model populist alternates), their whole world distilled down to assignments, deadlines and grades (and who's doing who).

Gosh... even the sounds of the laughter is the same. This place is removed from time and space. A sunlit realm where intentions are pure, causes are just, goodwill towards all mankind is overflowing, debates are passionate and full bodied (backed by weighty rhetoric), ideals indestructable, possibilities limitless, wallets thin, power zero. It seemed like an infinite yesterday since I was here, blissfully unaware of the world outside the institution. I often have pangs of longing, wishing I could walk back into those golden moments. But one can never imitate a uni student: one must either be one or a sad pretender and I will not and cannot do either. It would be a waking nightmare and a sleeping dream.

This must be the feeling of age.

Reverse cha cha poker

Ok. Just savoured the bitter taste of humble pie. Lost my Friday winnings + one & half buy-ins. I played poorly on two hands but in general my play was ok. I busted on some nasty hands: my nut flush got knocked in the teeth by a straight flush... top pair + kicker (AK) got kicked in the groin by trip 10s. The list goes on.

Lessons learned? Fate and luck often has a greater say than skill. Humble pie is best served in small portions. Otherwise one could really get stomach ache eating it.

Friday night

I'm sitting here in the dark on the balcony of my apartment, a dram of liquid gold on my left and a half smoked stick of etheral gold on my right. Master of the universe and ruler of none. A young turk ended in his conquest: in this case the poker tables of StarCity.

It was a successful night. Mind clear and the right balance of luck and guile. Tripled my initial buy-in without any setbacks in a two hour sit down. Cashed out near the top without regret. I was tempted on leaving to set the whole chip stack on Red as I was leaving but thought what's the point - money's just way one keeps count and the feeling of winning is priceless. Why counterfeit it?

Money's just the way one keeps count. The arrogance and truth of that statement come in equal measures. It's true as long as one doesn't care and as long as it has no value other than the material (and meaningless) things it buys. But I do have a purpose for it just that there isn't enough zeros there yet to make it meaningful. And the end game buying some phallic trophies. I can't stand the wannabes - the bald aging men in their red Ferraris coverting youth and despoiling beauty, the young 'bai jia zi' - prodigal sons - rightfully losing the rightful spoils of their inheritance, etc, etc and so forth. No I think money = the right to vote on one's vision for others and for the world. And I'm keen to bring forth my solution to a better world.

Master of the Universe. It's pretty lonely even as a adept. And perhaps the path will become even more barren the further one climbs. It probably has nothing to do with the climb but more with me and the evolution of me though in the two are inter-related.

These cigarettes are making me sick. I should stop. This and that. Too dangerous. Full stop.

Walking home

Walking home this evening along a dark tree lined street, I suddenly turned the corner into a bright yet mellowing dusk. The sky was shades of blue tinged with gold and blushes of red.

It was equal in beauty to sunrise and my heart lifted in wonder. Nature reflected Life and Life reflected in Nature. Sunrise, the beginning - a time for hope and wonder. Sunset, the final moments before night - a time for serenity and reflection at the moments passed. A grandmother walked by with a young child in hand. I nodded and smiled and she smiled in return.

If one was to make any wish for someone dear, I think it would be that their sunset be filled with contentment, warmth and family.

Thought shadows

When thoughts are put to paper it is making common something that is unique and often indescribable like: ambrosia on the lips, the weight of love, the hurt of betrayal, the bitterness of regret, the peace of contentment. Words just form the lines of the colouring book that our mind fills in...

But then again, if we don't give form to our thoughts won't they just fade into purgatory? That seems a little sad. Even as a shadow, is it not a better existence than that fate?

Past writings

There's a lot of good stuff in some of my later journal writings. Too bad I can't be bothered transcribing here. What's the point? I write only to myself or anonymously and this medium is just as transient as paper and inferior to the memory of the thought.

Anyhow each piece of writing is a child of mine. I don't want to clone the poor bastards.

An opportunity

To gain, one must sacrifice; to move forward, one must take risks.

Life threw me an opportunity today. I grabbed it. I just hope that I have the ability and dedication to mould it into something truly precious. I have something to prove here; to myself and to others.