break me!

And teach me to live life well.

It is easier to ask for forgiveness, then it is to ask for permission.

The way I see it, the Honour of the Crown was lost a long time ago, and I do not see how it can be sufficiently redeemed.

I think I take my angst out on systemic structures, while trying to love people. Which is why I think Hitler's image needs to be rehabilitated (if we cannot recognize his humanity how can we really atone our race?) while our modern social structures should burn in hell for their lack of equity, sympathy and genuinity. I think this is also how I can cast my eye at the Virginia Tech massacre, honour their brave, bleed with their wounded and still wonder, to what extent did society create this for themselves? We build the structures we exist in. It's all we have and it's all we are. Are we just going to close our eyes?

It's like brushing your teeth. You just do it everyday. It's just something you have to do. It's something you should do, as a human being. You don't get awards for brushing your teeth!
~ Roomie, on why she did not go to the Black Ball to be awarded for a ditty that she did in South Africa.

我想， 加拿大种族宽容政治效果是要把所有的“外国人”当成‘白人’。 但是，我们不是白人。另外的解决办法就是把我们弄成无形的实体。

如果你无法承认，看好我们， 和好好的把这些差异在心里和解好，就请告诉我： 除了我们上帝给你他的精神以外，我这么样有法对你尊敬？

如果你个人的世界观是这么狭小，你怎样能可以要求格外的世界大心的爱你？

To speak of freedom from a christian context, is never simply to speak of 'freedom from'. For this is only the beginning.

But now that we have had the chains lifted away, we can go. We now have freedom to finish the race that we've been called to run. And not sit back down in the same cell to watch TV.

Now it is to be free from the idea that my worth and measure of success is bound solely by stubby arms of 'the curve'. Have I always been such a slave to institutionalized academia that I cannot see beyond the gentle crest that rises ahead? Like I seem to be married to organized religion?

Now how do I claim freedom here, and make it true?

I remember...

that the difference between a blessing and a curse is the difference between love and selfishness.

But I cannot remember where I stand, or how I got here.

And I do not ask for sympathy.

...This place is a prison

Reading my property law textbook on aboriginal title moved me to tears. These people have such great strength of spirit and depth of culture. Our skyscrapers only magnify the shame that should be laid on our shoulders. And all around the world, peoples remain bleeding for decades of callous conquests.

Once that you've decided on a killing
First you make a stone of your heart
And if you find that your hands are still willing
Then you can turn a murder into art

There really isn't any need for bloodshed
You just do it with a little more finesse
If you can slip a tablet into someones coffee
Then it avoids an awful lot of mess

Now if you have a taste for this experience
And you're flushed with your very first success
Then you must try a twosome or a threesome
And you'll find your conscience bothers you much less

Because murder is like anything you take to
Its a habit-forming need for more and more
You can bump off every member of your family
And anybody else you find a bore

Now you can join the ranks of the illustrious
In history's great dark hall of fame
All our greatest killers were industrious
At least the ones that we all know by name

But you can reach the top of your profession
If you become the leader of the land
For murder is the sport of the elected
And you dont need to lift a finger of your hand

Because its murder by numbers, one, two, three
Its as easy to learn as your abc
Murder by numbers, one, two, three
Its as easy to learn as your a, b, c, d, e

Murder by Numbers - Sting

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The Constitution is a Living Tree

It's better to own ~ Joel Bennett

Yesterday I had a conversation with a lawyer about the lack of sympathy and empathy.
Today, BBC reports that Canadian police have tasered a polish immigrant to death.

I hope that this serves to remind me, one day, when I am in the concrete jungle of wealth and slave to my desires. That I will look back to a time when I really believed in living for lives beyond mine and for reasons beyond self-gratification. And then I will pack up my bags, leave all this behind and go to where I'm called.

Then I will turn around, and from the jungle in Laos, look you back in the eye, hold out my hand and demand justice.

A society that cannot respect another culture is hardly deserving of respect itself.

It is a journey, to reconcile my identity with a particular political past. How do I say that I belong to all this, when I can only begin to see its face through squinty glares and seething slits?