Posted in Books, Life, Me and moi, Music, The things I like to do.

10 extra important things about my fantasyland.

Everyone has their own utopia. General characteristics of these worlds are mainly: absolute happiness, joy, and lots and lots of rainbows and unicorns. Also important, the person who is dreaming of this utopia is absolutely perfect and flawless in it, with whatever body/face/hair/intellect/internal ear structure/friends they think is ideal.
My version of fantasyland has all of these things. But there are a few more specific things I won’t compromise about.

1.) No one is allowed to even think in a grammatically/phonetically incorrect language, whatever your language may be.

2.) Justin Beiber does not exist. (No offense!)

3.) Elections are won by the person who looks best in a tutu. (Seriously, the chances of actually getting a good person for the job will be better this way.)

4.) The weather will be perfectly nice everyday.

5.) All cats and dogs will automatically love me. In fact,…

6.) Everybody will automatically love me.

7.) My room will periodically clean itself.

8.) There will be a device which permanently stores every useful thing in your head while you’re sleeping.

9.) Every person in the world will have a voice in a reasonable pitch. That is, no one will sound like a cackling hen. Except, um, a cackling hen.

10.) All men will talk in a perfect British accent and wear tailored suits ALL. THE. TIME. *cough* Benedict Cumberbatch *cough*

Please feel free to add your own thoughts. My fantasyland permits freedom of speech. Although, if you are a male, do try to type in a British accent.

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Posted in Books, Cartoons, Humour, Kota., Me and moi, Music

Sometimes comics know exactly what I’m thinking.

Foxtrot is a beautiful example of this.
I have a really horrible test coming up, and as you can see from my last post, the dream and the reality don’t match up. I’m used to listening to music when I’m studying, but when ‘The Time Of My Life’ started playing, I knew it had to stop. Apparently Peter has similar problems.

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Posted in Food, Me and moi, Music, The things I like to do.

Why Music is like Meat Tenderizer. (Either that or I’m going mad.)

Whenever my mom makes biryani, she always uses raw papaya to make the chicken go all soft and limp so that it cooks properly. (On a side note, it works like a charm, never buy the stuff they sell at the shops again.)
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Yes, I am saying that music is like this. Except, you know, for your mind.
I always notice that whenever I’m overstressed or nervous, even the most ephemeral non-cacophonic sound can make me relax a bit. I always visualise my then state as music tenderizing my mind.
I tend to become a little unemotional and robotic when I’m stressed, (do I have company here, or am I really as freaky as I suspected I was?) so music makes me breathe a little bit more.
I love, love, love Yanni (I don’t care if that’s uncool or wierd, I just can’t compromise or feel ashamed about the music I love, even if people think I’m certifiably insane.) and I love, love, love Richard Clayderman. I can listen to hours and hours of Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, Bach, Chopin and Mozart. That said, I also like pop, rock and rap. (Only some, though.) So, basically, this makes me really listen to music too much.

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His hair is probably one of the reasons I like him so much.

How can anybody listen to music too much, you ask. You can if you’re me. Once I go into put-my-entire-collection-into-shuffle mode, I simply stop getting work done. It’s like my mind becomes too soft and impressionable and mellow and I get caught up in each of the brilliant emotions that the composer and the songwriter wanted to create in you. And I tell you, when your ipod plays I Kissed A Girl immediately after a Hans Zimmer piece, your emotional change in a few seconds is drastic. Which may not be good for you. Back away from the ipod, lady, and go and get some productive work done, instead of crying along with Rufus Wainwright.
So, this brings me back to my original analogy. Sure, music softens your mind, but too much of it will cook you through before you get the chance to imbibe any flavours.