"Subway Surfers" is an addicting game, I even dreamed of it last night. I jump, somersault, air-fly through the eternal three-lane subway and try to be careful and try my best not to collide with trains and metal stop signs, not to slam my face and end the game, while avoiding a fat policeman also forever on the chase. I can think of it as a metaphor for life, it keeps on going on day by day in a subway of eternal days (that will keep on going on until I die), leaping forever. Even if I happen to face-wall through a train's windshield or the red-painted metal of attached storage boxcars, there is always another game, an eternity to play but I must stop thinking of that subway, instead focus on the real quizzes I will take today and at 7 AM sharp tomorrow morning.
|Kamakhya, an aspect of Kali.|
When I was young, my mother forbid having religous icons in the house, mostly Catholic artifacts of pictures or statues of saints. My brother once got an Xmas gift of a simple stained glass with a picture of the holy family (with Jesus' heart out for all to see) and a generic prayer in Times New Roman. She gave it away. I wasn't in the communion rites of 90% of the class in grade 2. I dislike the solemn expression of the Christian saints.
I recall a sidewalk sculpting shop specializing in making Virgin Marys and all else. Plaster casts and cement filling a room made of bamboo and rusting tin roof. Praying, our lady of the sidewalk. I'm not Catholic, always thought their service too ritualistic. But now I hardly go to church. I grew up with my mom's religious conspiracy books saying the Catholic church as the real whore of Babylon, harbringer of the End of the World, Jezebel the Mistress of Sin.
I find more fascinating the statues of Hindu gods: four-armed Kali, pastel multi-colored heads of Kamakhya, white Shiva, blue-skinned Ramayana. Not sure, I don't even know if those names I wrote are the actual names of those deities. I should learn more about them. Mother Hydra, Cthulhu, Buddha. A paper-weight laughing fat Buddha, or the reclined one with fat lips and closed eyes.
I recall how once G pointed to a golden figure displayed in the library and arrogantly said, "They're their gods, search the net," and I shouldv'e answered, "Yeah, if you know so much then who are they?"
January: Fireworks are boring
Last night, I went to SM with my classmates to look at fireworks. I went home reeking with BO and other odors that clung to me from swimming in that crowd where I felt nauseous claustrophobia. It feels good to be in open air again. Straining my neck to look upwards the exploding things got boring quickly, and in that crowd I wished I never would have gone because my house is near and the view is pretty much the same from my window where I can sit without my neck hurt.
There were a few unique fireworks. Shimmering zooms. A little spark bursting in the middle of the sky and the tiny lights bursting into tiny explosions. Shooting stars with streaming, sparkling tails. Their finale favorite was that glittering chandelier thing that seemed to envelope the entire sky. After all, it's not every night there's a fireworks display, but I'm sick of it. It's the same, but now I have an idea why people flock to watch it.
Dinagyang, the actual festival on Sunday? That, I never learned to appreciate even if I was born here. I have never watched it live, only on TV.