Sunday, August 27, 2006
Sky
I like the sky.It's like my big,blue insurance for where life will take me.It's like, a constant, you know?Wherever i go, whatever i choose to become, the sky won't change.It's also bluer when a certain someone's around.It also sorta shows us how all man is equal.Everyone is governed by the sky.Therefore,no man is higher than the other.But what if you're looking at it from space?Then literally,yes,you are 'higher' than any man.Then we fly above the heaven of earth,above it's judgement,above its lightning anf hailstromic fury.Above it's lightning?Not really though, i saw a nat geo special on lightning that'a like all cylindery and strikes above the clouds in a cylinerical fashion.But the whole emotional thing seems abit babel's towery to me.Like,we're trying to get too close to the heights we shouldn't reach ya?
The sky makes me think.I like it in the day.At night it's like the shavings of ice upon the darkness of time.Every star like a watcher, yet fleeting still, upon the vast unwritten canvas of time,of space,of the whole idea of 'what next'?And Man, i think would be the the brightest shortest spark.For we manipulated a world given to us, and though it isn't really happening at a large scale yet,we shall destroy ourselves.Inevitable.Unless an incident so pure, so human happens again,that all mankind will feel ,the stirring of their hearts.The cry of humanity.The silent weep, that questions, why we do, what we do.Why we did, what we have done.There is a greater power within us, the power to 'See'.Yet we still insist on living on the surface.Which is why i find math utterly useless.And Tamil,even more so.One day,we shall communicate with solely emotions,like how,i think, we communicate with God when we say a prayer.God doesn't listen to your language, i feel, he listens to your heart.Someday,we will communicte with every little intricate emotion we can feel.Tearing it aprt, little by little.Understanding it, reveling in it.New feelings, created everyday.The largest nightmare, if it were to become technical.Then, for once, i have nothing to say.I will be stunned.Though i know,humans, will ultimtely walk down that path.Everything has to be so bloody technical.
"I like mixing things up.Everything.For the world is as much a part of me as I am of It."-Me.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Warmth
I had sixteen years to find out what's in my head.I still don't know.
What was your earliest memory?I wonder if anyone,some savant or another,can remember the time when they were in the womb.I wonder what it was like.Warm.I guess if you see it another way, it is the only time in your life that love is actually 'around' you.When you are, for lack of better word, immersed in it.But don't you think it would be quite scary to gain consciouness within the womb?Yes,you feel safe, but you would also want out.I wonder if that's how animals go about it.Like horses,that can walk only a couple of hours after they are born.Well, i don't want to go too deep into the topic of Birth.There's too much to say.I'll leave it for another time.
What was my earliest memory?I remember my kindergarten.How there was this kid that kept sneezing on his jacket. I thought my friend,Reuben,i think his name,which feet which shoes go on.What about further back?I remember,nursery.With Sam.In Yishun.I remember how i aced my chinese test.I drew an apple next to my answer for some reason.I have got it, my earliest memory.A toilet.pink walls,mom laid me next to the sink.White tiles or something.Pink tabletop.Mom was changing my diapers.My earliest memory.Perhaps,the very moment that i attained the gift of conscious thought.Lest it's curse.Maybe it was better back then,still clean, not perverted by mankind.Yet.Childhood is such a gift.When i have my kid, he/she's gonna have the best darn one.Before,the world can touch them.
I suddenly don't see the need for speech anymore.Words,in writing is better.They give you that momentary pause, that feeling where all thoughts are exploding in your head,yet you still carry on, writing.If you're speaking, you have to think on your feet.Thinking is a process that cannot be rushed.Or.Thinking is a process,therefore it cannot be rushed.All people want to do is rush.I have learnt my lesson.To enjoy every moment as it is lived.Through.For that moment is that alone.Gone.Yet there.I finally see the whole point of relationships.Why rush.Feel every moment.
"Feel every moment.Feel the warmth."-Me
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Old School
You didn't miss much today,Christine.
Alas,my infamy at Choa Chu Kang Secondary was short lived.Some of my teachers didn't remember my name,though,they did remember my work.That,at least,persists.
I was starting to think that the old place would start to change.But it didn't(what did you expect me to say?Some fun fact about ham?).The school still smells the same.The putrid odour of secondary school sweat and nonchalance mingling with the scent of would be aspirations and desperate teachers.And the smell of those bloody koi in the bloody pond.And the rats.Oh yeah.They were smart rats.They would run through those little nuances that pervaded the canteen.On the air vents.And in the more least used drains.Those were smart rats.Someday,i would like to study one. They remind me of the Rats Of Nimh.
Mrs Martens rememebered a really really old composition i wrote about a mortuary.Wait.It's not what you think.I was never cynical.The question was about horror story.I refrain from saying ghosts,as i think they come under the general heading of Horror.Well, you may not be Horrified of a ghost.I think you would be Terrified...But certainly not Horrified.You might also be pleased,if its the ghost of a loved one.I guess.After the shock has passed.Well,anyways,she still remembers my compos.And i'm very very touched that she does.That i have made at least a difference,though it is only a hanging memory that might fade,it means alot.Thank you.I didn't see Dear Madam Prema(I think she reads this Blog),but i'll be back on teacher's day.I have an obligation.I saw Mrs Choo,whom i think is still the best Lit teacher ever(except for Madam Chitra,in case she gets wind of my blog,whom rivals her indefinately).Yeah.I can't say i miss ccks,but i can't say i don't miss it.
"They were the best of times, they were the worst of times."-The Tale of Two Cities.
I sudenly remebered an old book i read.It was called,"Town Mouse,Country Mouse". I wonder if i can ever see it again.
Friday, August 18, 2006
QUIET MUSINGS
Little things mean alot.I understand this now.I always used to think,what's the difference,the little things.But i understand now,little things are the beginnings of big things.Big,happy,new things.A touch on the arm.I understand,Babe.
Then little things have its own enigmatic purposes.Every breath has its point.Maybe not as an enigma, but as a function.Every deft movement of-Wait.I just had Deja vu.I was writing this,and i thought of a meadow,a greenish place, with a lone canal running through, dotted with yellow flowers.And a woman,in blue,i think.Bollywoodish.I had deja vu of my thoughts.Weird.You have Deja vu of actions, of people and of places,not of thoughts.Yet,they are stangely familiar,though i am certain i've never thought it before.Now, i'm thinking, what if everything's a deja vu.What if the brain does see, albeit momentarily,into the future,or lest the past?Everything, pregnant with the waiting of the smallest measure of time(which i have talked about in one of my posts) in the next multitude of tiny explosion in consciousness.Everything, pregnant, that the mind's eye can see.Eventually..Eventuality.Bah,I lost another thought.Something came,but it went.Right now, i feel so conscious.
But,i feel conscious even in when i'm unconscious.I had a dream last night.I can still feel that warmth.It was so real.Too real.It's scary.But it was enjoyable.It happened last time too,before everything.Though that was on the cheek.It felt so real.And they both contained one special person.I think you can guess.Thank You.
I dreamt i fell of a cliff once.And when i landed, my body spasmed.The bed shook.I dreamt a friend died,once.It wasn't pleasant.But they were both so real.The sound, the emotion.Always the emotion.Especially the emotion.Scarily real.It was like, it could have happened,somewhere else.Perhaps,it did happen.Another time, another place.It happened there in order for it to not happen here,ya know?Maybe.
COP tomorrow.Then i'm heading to good old CCKSS for some fair or another.We'll see.I hate revisiting places.It brings back memories.And memories,good or bad,are painful.Sometimes, i wonder if its better if no one remembers me when i die.I don't want to cause them heartache.I don't want to cause anyone heartache.It's the worse kind of ache around.A crushing void,vacuum feeling.I hate it.
I don't know why emotions play such a huge part in my life.I don't know why i was given the ability to take it out.Of context,of perspective,and study it.Sometimes,i feel ostracized,because of it.I ostracize myself,i guess.God has his reasons i suppose.Emotions make life just that.Life.
That's why i hold them in high regard.I don't know why i think like this.I just do.It's so me.But i like it.It gives me stuff to think about.If only this were my life's work.Maye it is.But i think it would only serve to depress me.Mankind is flawed.
"I reach out, to touch the heights.And i question,do i want to?But i know i must.Eventually.I just hope it wasn't curiousity that killed that cat."-Me
It cannot be quiet musings if you're reading it.Paradox.The ultimate of which i think is a man shoting himself.That is, if a man goes back to the past and shoots himself.But what about if he shoots himself in the present?Is that not a paradox?Hmmm...Perhaps in QUIET MUSINGS 2.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
First base
Of my life!!What were you perverts thinking?Speaking of Christine,she now has my password,to this blog.So if it's something that sounds like me, it probably is.If it's not, then it's still fine, cause it's by the person who knows me better than anyone else and whom i can trust completely.Me!Nah, just kidding.It's Christi.
Okay, First base.Let's stop for moment.Take a breather,as they say.Stupid saying, that.Take a breather.What the heck's a 'breather' anyways?Is it time taken to breathe?That isn't possible.I know it's supposed to be a figure of speech, but when you look at it, pick it up and examine it like a curious thing...what the hell?Okay, anyways, first base is a look at my life thus far.Let's get it started.
Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of life so far was falling,no, Is Falling,in love with Christi.I won't bore you with details of my(to some of you) sordid soap opera like love life.Minus the always present cancer that someone always has.And the vast amounts of family fortune.My worst enemy walking into my home from the snow outside to tell me off and leave me without so much as a continuation to the next episode,that's gotta go too.SO anyways, i won't go too into that, so yeah.We've been through good and bad times,just so you know.
Next would be me going into Innova.It's funny how time passes.I can still smell hints of the recycled air of the Lan shop playing around my nostrils.The long hours of nothingness that was the First Three Months.And the trepidation.At waiting for the results, that would jump up oh so suddenly,choking you with anxious pungency.I hated it.But i also loved it.
Right,Innova.I'm thankful i got in.Met a whole new crew of people, each personality differing so differently from the rest.Waffle hotdogs make me nauseous,by the way. JC has just been an uber rush.So fast,now,i near my promos.It's a pity,it can't be stopped.Just so i have a chance to smell the flowers.
And there there's Lit and Gp.I enjoy them. Oh yeah, i got best speaker in today's debate on the death penalty.Naturally,i was against it and we lost.I had a line from long ago that just popped into my head."Ireland will win but Viktor'll get the snitch."I did get the snitch.I never expected it though.
I continue, then,living my life.Loving my life.Loving.Thinking has it's perks.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
White Mice Just that
I like white mice.There's something very spiritual about them. And also very human.It's like, all of humanity encompassed into thier furry little beings.It's like, purity,innocence.Reminds me of the soul.Also naivete and the cruelty of getting taken advantage of.It reminds me of everything, of the beginning,but never the end.I like white mice.A soft spot for them.Shunned by superstition and women.Most.It's not fair.The world should be fair to these mice.They make me think of little huddles of warmth,against the rain, and storm.When they curl into their protective balls,nothing can hurt them.I will make sure of it, if they can't do it themselves.White mice are sweet.Not like rats.They're smart too.Oh.Wait.And memories of Algernon come flooding back.Everyone misunderstands the white mouse.They are a needed race.Lab mice they call them, willingly bending to our will.Usually to tests on the nervous system.Sacrificing themselves so we,might, perhaps,learn something.They deserve better.They have lives too you know. I like white mice.If i could,i would save them all.They are a reflection to the world.At least, to me.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Variations On The Word 'Sleep'
I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head
and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear
I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.
-Margaret Atwood.
Possibly one of the most beautiful poems i've ever read.Surely of my favourites.Magaret Atwood went from being a satirical cynic to a minstrel with a pen.Well, at least to me,after the Offred Ordeal.
Dedicated to Christine,To prove that guys(me) don't only have ONE thing on their minds(at night).Hope you like it!
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
The Singapore Heart Beat
The hot blood of defiance courses through my veins,met with the overpowering tranquility and Duh-ness of common sense.But.I was born dreaming,and in my world of dreams,common sense is punishable by law.
So much things to say.So much to comment on.So much i want to say.So much i want to shout to the people,to question their petty intelligence to allow it.I ask myself.Why?I sigh.I laugh.I look above, and i say,
"Oh brave new world,with such people in't!"
-Miranda,the tempest.
Political blogging is banned banned banned.No jail for me.Not for this.Not now.
Sigh.
I refuse to sing that...that....TRAVESTY to a Hymn.Not for the church,not for anyone.I shall keep silent.I'm proud i did.And we shall see...we shall see what happens eh?What happens to the meadow,and the cattle in it.How human i am,in the end.
On a happier note,Happy National Day.Oh happy day.
Monday, August 07, 2006
When It's Over...
I wonder why Kid Rock'll miss me though.Lewd behaviour?It's hard not to Zhao Keng in that stupid rubberised shirt.
Friday, August 04, 2006
Reflections On The Prata
Oh king of flour mountain,
Mighty in thy throne
Drenched in greasy saturated fat,
Your glory is reknown.
Lord of the breakfast table,
With your prince dark Kopi-O
of your fluffy emotions,
We the people of Singapore know.
Your birth in a turbulent uprising,
Tossed by the hands of fate,
Yet skilled the hands they are,
For your ancestral emperors did they make.
Thy romance nay't be a secret,
With the savoury tanned curry,
A match made in heaven,
A marriage in a hurry.
And now glorious conquerer,
Prepare for the end
A rumbling deep within
Will signal the piercing,then the rend.
Yet phoenix like,
Thy nature is,with only a measely dollar
I raise my hand,and one more time,
Pay fate to resume order.
-Me
I dunno what i was thinking when i wrote this.Well, obviously it was prata.Sorry,Christi i'm still working on the perfect one for you.Time and tide may change and pass,but my feelings for you are true.It takes some time for the rhyming to fade,i'm gonna go lie down now,and rest my weary head.
