Dream Supernova
The spoon has long since been bent,
The moldy letters left unsent,
Touching the empty glass on the table,
The cold air makes me feel faint.
Eyes are blurring.
Holding my head in my hands,
Cradling my thoughts gently,
Breathing deep within myself,
Holding onto the shadows.
The memories long forgotten.
Flickers of light from a lighted sparkler,
Feeling a shiver on my hardened skin,
I look up at the hole in the roof,
A broken shelter of my emotions.
It is protected poorly.
Fallen to my knees on the hard floor,
I feel the energy in my fingers,
Holding myself tight,
Closing my head as I bow from the blinding light.
Reality changes.
Paradigms shift beyond past,
Every part of my life surrounds me,
And I draw it in deep within me,
My skin glows white.
Electricity fills the air.
I close my eyes and hear the whispers,
The shine fills my eyes,
Letting my emotion flow,
The world becomes bright.
-Dream Supernova.
Sometimes in life, there are times when one’s perception can change. The world may be the same, but the way it’s viewed by different people is greatly varied. For example, in a picture where there is a man eating an apple underneath the tree, one person may notice how the tree is so big while the man seems so small, or how the man’s face looks as he bites the apple, or how the shadow that is cast by the tree looks like. So many things to look at or view the picture, and perception is about the first thing you see.
That’s why as your moving along in life, you may see the same thing you see everyday in a certain way, like a park with trees, then one day, as your moving along your perception changes and you simply see a fountain within the park surrounded by trees. To me, that happens once in awhile, and it allows me to see the world differently which allows me to contemplate.
As I was walking along a bridge, listening to my ipod and music drowning out all the traffic noise, my senses seemed to change. It was night, the dark cool air was fogged ever so slightly, and as I breathed deep when I got to the top of the bridge, then it occurred to me as I looked straight forward, the world disappeared, and I saw only the bridge itself, I was standing on that bridge representing my life.
I looked down the path and I then noticed the railings of the bridge seeming to enclose around me, and then I thought about my life, which was guarded by railings similar to this bridge, from the darkness outside the path, guiding me along with lights overhead to show me the way in the darkness, in safety. The lights were in one straight line, just like how my life was being guided. It was being guided along one straight line, and then as I breathed deep as I was about to finish crossing the bridge, I looked around me and I realized, that it wasn’t simply just darkness in the void, that there were lights and sounds, it made me also realize that despite the protected guidance, there was always more to just the path I had been given to walk.
That’s when I thought on how many choices were already made for me when I was born, it began with a climb up the steps of life, where when you get there, you realized the path was already set for you, guarded already by railings and brightly lit to show you the way. But now more than ever, I’d like to see the light outside the bridge, to be different.
To be able to know what other options I have in my life. Stepping over those boundaries set to protect me. So many of us have been protected in one way or another in our lives, guided along a certain path, groomed for an ideal that was never ours to begin with. In that ideal, that sought instill in us, but have they allowed us to find out what was it we really wanted? What I wanted?
There is nothing wrong in the set path, it worked for many people, though it probably killed most of their creativity, their ability to choose for themselves. There is a lot of wisdom behind the set paths, because it protects, it nourishes life in its own way. It ensures order. To stray from the path, is a means of falling and most likely disapproval by those around you and especially by the people who have guided you along this path. But in order to fly high, to know what you want to do in life, what you want out of life, to form your own ideals, you have to fall, fall away from the path, jump off that bridge that you’ve been walking for so long, into the shrouded darkness, into the unknown. Until you’ve done that, you will never be able to see what’s beyond the bridge, beyond the railings, beyond the blinding darkness.
Walking on this bridge of my life,
Darkness fills the void around it,
The railings close in on both sides,
Above me are lights guiding me along.
The lights are leading in one straight line.
Close to the end,
I see the descent to the end of the bridge,
I see what was laid out before me,
A ray of light cuts through the darkness from the side.
There is something more than just this.
I see the false sense of security surrounding me,
Shrouded by tales of darkness,
The warnings of beyond the path,
I shut my mind to the conformity.
Challenge it.
Climbing over the railing,
It cuts those who try to pass it,
Others scream in horror trying to stop me,
I step over the other side of it.
The air is so divine.
Breathe deep.
I spread my hands and lift my head high,
Spreading my wings,
I let myself fall,
In order to fly.
-The bridge of life.
Thursday 26 July 2007
Tuesday 24 July 2007
Two mirrors
Bright colors surround me,
Hold my hand,
Siding all and none.
Enjoying the endless conversations.
The lights are fading around me,
I am rising,
The shooting star,
Words of grandeur flow about.
People look at me as I smile,
The knives in my heart,
Bled so hard,
Reaching out to the turned backs.
Disbelief in their eyes,
They stand so far away,
It seems that they no longer care,
But I will continue to dare.
The light side of the coin,
The dark of the night,
Surprised by the replies,
I see hell in their eyes,
The people surrounding me,
I have been forsaken.
Why do they smile like that?
Why don’t they smile back?
Essences of two hearts laid bare.
Two mirrors of my soul,
The ray of sunlight and the abyss,
The two entwined around my fate,
Similar to me,
Yet so different,
Mirrors they have been.
-The twins
There are two girls I’ve met in my life whom I feel are like the female versions of me. One is the actress, the persona of my public self, a bright voice that is the lighter side of me. The other, the story teller, the painter of words, the darker side of me.
I saw so much of the way I am in them, that it allowed me to understand myself better from a third person point of view, an insight that I never had until I met both of them. Both of them, have had a significant but brief part in my life, of which I regret neither.
Both girls were talkative, and both liked attention, but the way they got it was entirely different. That was the difference between the light one and the dark one.
The light one had naivety and cheerfulness. Having endless energy that seemed to explode out of her, some what like what I was when I was younger. She loved to talk to everyone, be friends with everyone; she basically was the kind of person who liked to please and to be everyone’s friend, no matter who you were, from fellow student, to teacher etc. I am somewhat like that, I try to be friends with everyone, and I do not have problems with making friends with authority figures, like teachers, or officers. I never saw superiors as people who could not be one’s friends, though others thought differently.
She was like me, making friends with teachers; there were people who resented her for that just like I was resented for it too. And in the background, she was disliked or backstabbed, pretty much like I was when I was younger. Friendliness came with a drawback, people found it irritating at times, my befriending or being nice to authority figures made me look like I was sucking up to them, when all I wanted to be was friends with them, and did not expect any form of favoritism.
I saw it more clearly when even some of her close friends told me bad things about her. It made me wonder if they were even her friends at all. Her popularity and unpopularity came into contrast, it allowed me to see the divide on who resented her for being such a person. It also allowed me to understand, that the way I am may make people dislike or resent me, because I don’t think that making friends or being friendly towards authority figures is wrong, I treat each person equally when it comes to being friends. So is it wrong to be friendly towards authority? At the end of the day, she was seen as a teachers pet, her very own friends betrayed her, and it hurt her badly, but fortunately she got back from it and moved on, though it probably left a scar on her. For me, I’ve not had a huge group turn on me, rather individuals did such things.
The dark one was a story teller, a kind of female Loki, spinner of tales and lies. I must say, in my youth I’ve told many grand stories, and I’ve used it in my writing to help me a lot. Though the uses of those grand stories were to fool or bluff people as to whom I was when I was younger. It painted a picture, grand as it was, making me look great, when I was a person who had nothing at that point of time to show for, and so I used stories. As time went by, I’ve had more things to show for, and thus stories that I once told, ceased to be said, but became writing and were not used to bluff. Perhaps that’s the reason why I can write better than I did last time, but then again, it could be experience and development of my mind. Now to not diverge anymore, back to the lass, the Loki, the story teller.
She is perhaps one of the best conversationalists I ever met. Whom I loved just listening to, and there are few people whom I would sit down and listen to for hours. Of course much of what she told me is hard to believe, and several have been refuted by people who know her and know me. And I learnt that she was good at telling stuff that weren’t true. She was someone who wasn’t well liked by people around her, but the friends she had were really good friends with her, though they did keep their distance. This is somewhat how my situation was once when I was younger, I had many friends from people outside my class, but the ones in my class did not like me, due to the combination of both traits.
I’ve learnt along the way from what made people dislike me. My obnoxious and dislikable traits and improved myself, and realized that it’s important to understand one’s follies, and why people would dislike me. It’s perhaps made me a better person, who still has a lot more room to improve. But by understanding these two, who are like my mirrors of myself, help me to understand my past mistakes and improve myself better.
The shadows slowly forgotten,
Relationships that were forsaken,
Realizing that no one waited,
Many a word left unsaid.
A connection between two souls.
Emotions all surrounding,
A connection of everlasting memory,
Like a blinding ray of light,
Like an ocean of promises.
No one is standing at the door.
An empty entrance before me,
It leads to end of my journey,
My life laid bare,
I feel it pulling away from me.
The door seems so far away.
It disappears rapidly into the darkness,
Like a boat over the horizon,
Returning to my senses,
Finding what was long forgot.
Thus it was greatly neglected.
As tears flow down her eyes,
Wanting to will her emotions away,
Held in my arms with a listening ear,
She opens up her ocean of emotions.
Twenty years of waiting.
-Journey of two souls.
Bright colors surround me,
Hold my hand,
Siding all and none.
Enjoying the endless conversations.
The lights are fading around me,
I am rising,
The shooting star,
Words of grandeur flow about.
People look at me as I smile,
The knives in my heart,
Bled so hard,
Reaching out to the turned backs.
Disbelief in their eyes,
They stand so far away,
It seems that they no longer care,
But I will continue to dare.
The light side of the coin,
The dark of the night,
Surprised by the replies,
I see hell in their eyes,
The people surrounding me,
I have been forsaken.
Why do they smile like that?
Why don’t they smile back?
Essences of two hearts laid bare.
Two mirrors of my soul,
The ray of sunlight and the abyss,
The two entwined around my fate,
Similar to me,
Yet so different,
Mirrors they have been.
-The twins
There are two girls I’ve met in my life whom I feel are like the female versions of me. One is the actress, the persona of my public self, a bright voice that is the lighter side of me. The other, the story teller, the painter of words, the darker side of me.
I saw so much of the way I am in them, that it allowed me to understand myself better from a third person point of view, an insight that I never had until I met both of them. Both of them, have had a significant but brief part in my life, of which I regret neither.
Both girls were talkative, and both liked attention, but the way they got it was entirely different. That was the difference between the light one and the dark one.
The light one had naivety and cheerfulness. Having endless energy that seemed to explode out of her, some what like what I was when I was younger. She loved to talk to everyone, be friends with everyone; she basically was the kind of person who liked to please and to be everyone’s friend, no matter who you were, from fellow student, to teacher etc. I am somewhat like that, I try to be friends with everyone, and I do not have problems with making friends with authority figures, like teachers, or officers. I never saw superiors as people who could not be one’s friends, though others thought differently.
She was like me, making friends with teachers; there were people who resented her for that just like I was resented for it too. And in the background, she was disliked or backstabbed, pretty much like I was when I was younger. Friendliness came with a drawback, people found it irritating at times, my befriending or being nice to authority figures made me look like I was sucking up to them, when all I wanted to be was friends with them, and did not expect any form of favoritism.
I saw it more clearly when even some of her close friends told me bad things about her. It made me wonder if they were even her friends at all. Her popularity and unpopularity came into contrast, it allowed me to see the divide on who resented her for being such a person. It also allowed me to understand, that the way I am may make people dislike or resent me, because I don’t think that making friends or being friendly towards authority figures is wrong, I treat each person equally when it comes to being friends. So is it wrong to be friendly towards authority? At the end of the day, she was seen as a teachers pet, her very own friends betrayed her, and it hurt her badly, but fortunately she got back from it and moved on, though it probably left a scar on her. For me, I’ve not had a huge group turn on me, rather individuals did such things.
The dark one was a story teller, a kind of female Loki, spinner of tales and lies. I must say, in my youth I’ve told many grand stories, and I’ve used it in my writing to help me a lot. Though the uses of those grand stories were to fool or bluff people as to whom I was when I was younger. It painted a picture, grand as it was, making me look great, when I was a person who had nothing at that point of time to show for, and so I used stories. As time went by, I’ve had more things to show for, and thus stories that I once told, ceased to be said, but became writing and were not used to bluff. Perhaps that’s the reason why I can write better than I did last time, but then again, it could be experience and development of my mind. Now to not diverge anymore, back to the lass, the Loki, the story teller.
She is perhaps one of the best conversationalists I ever met. Whom I loved just listening to, and there are few people whom I would sit down and listen to for hours. Of course much of what she told me is hard to believe, and several have been refuted by people who know her and know me. And I learnt that she was good at telling stuff that weren’t true. She was someone who wasn’t well liked by people around her, but the friends she had were really good friends with her, though they did keep their distance. This is somewhat how my situation was once when I was younger, I had many friends from people outside my class, but the ones in my class did not like me, due to the combination of both traits.
I’ve learnt along the way from what made people dislike me. My obnoxious and dislikable traits and improved myself, and realized that it’s important to understand one’s follies, and why people would dislike me. It’s perhaps made me a better person, who still has a lot more room to improve. But by understanding these two, who are like my mirrors of myself, help me to understand my past mistakes and improve myself better.
The shadows slowly forgotten,
Relationships that were forsaken,
Realizing that no one waited,
Many a word left unsaid.
A connection between two souls.
Emotions all surrounding,
A connection of everlasting memory,
Like a blinding ray of light,
Like an ocean of promises.
No one is standing at the door.
An empty entrance before me,
It leads to end of my journey,
My life laid bare,
I feel it pulling away from me.
The door seems so far away.
It disappears rapidly into the darkness,
Like a boat over the horizon,
Returning to my senses,
Finding what was long forgot.
Thus it was greatly neglected.
As tears flow down her eyes,
Wanting to will her emotions away,
Held in my arms with a listening ear,
She opens up her ocean of emotions.
Twenty years of waiting.
-Journey of two souls.
Monday 23 July 2007
Against me
Reaching out for me,
Stares cutting across the room,
A connection beyond tones,
Feeling all caution melt away.
Fallen on my knees.
Pulling me towards you,
Feeling the draw of the insane,
Breaking the train of thoughts,
Immersed in this ocean of desires.
Spreading out my arms in this embrace.
Feeling the pull from my body,
Every bit of energy draining to one point,
Rising inside of me,
Drawing from within.
To come undone.
-Reaching forward
When I think about the people who disliked me, who spoke against me to people whom I were close to, I realized that most of the time those people were hypocrites. Many a time, when people were against things that I did, they ended up doing it themselves. Condemning me for something that they would not condemn themselves for. It is too easy to condemn another, but not yourself.
I make that very same mistake myself, I judge like everybody else, and when I make the same mistake, I realize that I was wrong, and I change my judgment, though it was already made before. The problem is, some people don’t, in fact a lot don’t. It leaves a bitter taste when I think about it, but these are things I’ve learnt to let go. It doesn’t bother me, but of course no matter what ever you let go, there will be things that still taste sour in your mouth when you recollect about them.
At times it can feel like the world is against me. But when I step back, I see my friends are there, and that they’ve not turned against me, but rather, they offer help and show their concern for me. Those who are against me hold an agenda against me that I often never understand on how they began. That, I hope to learn, and use to improve myself, so that I might better myself, although it is impossible to please everyone. I’ve learnt that so many times, it’s impossible to please everyone, but it’s still possible to please the majority, but most of the time, it’s important to be true one’s self and be there for those who matter most, and not the crowd.
I’ve had a few people actually apologize to me after a long time, when they realized how they misjudged me, or realize that I actually treated them well when they did not return in kind, but rather listened to the back stabbing of others. When I was younger, I was oblivious to politics, which went about, and apparently there were those who disliked me whom I did not even have contact with. Guess it’s the case of “Don’t like the person’s face, so you’ll hate them” sort of thing.
One of my follies is, after being treated such, I was terribly hurt and it’s so hard to forgive or accept the apology given. It eats at me to let such a betrayal go. At the end of it, what do I gain from not accepting it? After thinking carefully, I’d realize how it is pointless and petty to continue the way it is, though I have lost my heart to continue the relationship. I’m the type whose passion once gone, rarely ever returns.
It’s very hard to continue off where something had already gone sour, and if it’s been a long time, the feelings for the relationship, the closeness would have been completely dissipated. It leaves somewhat a kind of numbness where you could look at the person as if they were a total stranger.
But there are a few partings that I still feel for, the scars left behind, a lingering pain that is somewhat surreal.
A crimson drop of a tear from above,
Hopes crushed as if a flower encountered a false dawn,
A ray of light casts the shadow of my past,
But a smile melts it away,
Burying my shadows,
Drowning my fears.
The shadows will not die,
It cannot be murdered,
Undying, screaming out at me,
I feel like the hunter being hunted,
being haunted by the shadow beside me.
Help mistaken for cruel intentions,
In a world where I find it hard to trust,
who will I turn to that is just,
I fear that my heart will turn to rust,
And then, perhaps to dust.
-I wish not.
Something I wrote long ago, about this same topic.
“I always thought myself strong enough to withstand any emotional bombs and missiles thrown at me. But I guess some people just are able to get pass it. That chink in the armor, my weakness, my kryptonite. I wonder, what could have been, and remember that I am what I am now, a better person, though with the same weaknesses as before, weaknesses though less exposed are still sometimes vulnerable by the person who inflicted them. I’ve not felt this weak in a long time. It reminds me that I am still human with flaws. It reminds of me of what I was like before, the naïve boy.”
This is a prologue to a novel I wrote a long time ago, I forgot which version is this, but its not the latest one for sure. Perhaps one day I’ll show the most recent version which reflects my true thoughts, though most of it remains the same, just more of what my experiences have given me, placed into the prologue:
Love is something everyone tries to define, no matter how much you try and define it; it is always different one way or another. Love changes things, and relationships are never the same again. Love can be in many kinds too, sibling love, parental love, love of inanimate objects, love of a wife or husband. But most of the time people concentrate on the love between a man and a woman, boy and girl. Why do we define it so much? That kind of love affects us the most I guess, it can bring us the greatest joy, and the greatest pain. That is why that kind of love is considered so important to us. To me, love between a boy and a girl, is a union of souls. True love is where both boy and girl are best friends and lovers at the same time and that they would do anything for each other.
Often, love is a compromise for the other party, which makes one question love, but is it wrong to question another’s love? They say love should be unquestioned, but often, we still question it. In any relationship between a boy and girl, there will always be a time where their love for each other is tested, that is how the strength of their love is defined. But no matter how many relationships you have gone through, it is always different. No matter how much your experience, when its true love, you are always uneasy and unsure of yourself.
True love, how does it happen? Love at first sight? I do not really believe in such things, for even when you look into the eyes of the person, no matter how much you judge a person by their looks, you cannot tell what they are truly like, until you have been with them. For me, I judge women like a bottle of wine, the appearance of the bottle maybe attractive or seductive, but you can never know what its like or whether you would love it until you have tasted its contents. The contents are the women’s true self, her personality and her essence. A woman can be sweet or sour, strong or mildly pleasant, intoxicating or weak. She could have a great after taste that leaves you wanting for more, she could make you addicted to her. Addiction, the start of infatuation, that eventually leads to love. To me, infatuation is the part and parcel of life that eventually leads to love or rejection if it is given the chance. And like wine, women can get better with age or become the sour vinegar that would be undrinkable. It depends on her, she is the one who defines how she ages and changes. If she becomes better with age, her beauty is more enhanced and her personality becomes more refined. But those are the rare type of wines. But I did find one; she was the rarest bottle of wine I had ever found. She was the one.
Reaching out for me,
Stares cutting across the room,
A connection beyond tones,
Feeling all caution melt away.
Fallen on my knees.
Pulling me towards you,
Feeling the draw of the insane,
Breaking the train of thoughts,
Immersed in this ocean of desires.
Spreading out my arms in this embrace.
Feeling the pull from my body,
Every bit of energy draining to one point,
Rising inside of me,
Drawing from within.
To come undone.
-Reaching forward
When I think about the people who disliked me, who spoke against me to people whom I were close to, I realized that most of the time those people were hypocrites. Many a time, when people were against things that I did, they ended up doing it themselves. Condemning me for something that they would not condemn themselves for. It is too easy to condemn another, but not yourself.
I make that very same mistake myself, I judge like everybody else, and when I make the same mistake, I realize that I was wrong, and I change my judgment, though it was already made before. The problem is, some people don’t, in fact a lot don’t. It leaves a bitter taste when I think about it, but these are things I’ve learnt to let go. It doesn’t bother me, but of course no matter what ever you let go, there will be things that still taste sour in your mouth when you recollect about them.
At times it can feel like the world is against me. But when I step back, I see my friends are there, and that they’ve not turned against me, but rather, they offer help and show their concern for me. Those who are against me hold an agenda against me that I often never understand on how they began. That, I hope to learn, and use to improve myself, so that I might better myself, although it is impossible to please everyone. I’ve learnt that so many times, it’s impossible to please everyone, but it’s still possible to please the majority, but most of the time, it’s important to be true one’s self and be there for those who matter most, and not the crowd.
I’ve had a few people actually apologize to me after a long time, when they realized how they misjudged me, or realize that I actually treated them well when they did not return in kind, but rather listened to the back stabbing of others. When I was younger, I was oblivious to politics, which went about, and apparently there were those who disliked me whom I did not even have contact with. Guess it’s the case of “Don’t like the person’s face, so you’ll hate them” sort of thing.
One of my follies is, after being treated such, I was terribly hurt and it’s so hard to forgive or accept the apology given. It eats at me to let such a betrayal go. At the end of it, what do I gain from not accepting it? After thinking carefully, I’d realize how it is pointless and petty to continue the way it is, though I have lost my heart to continue the relationship. I’m the type whose passion once gone, rarely ever returns.
It’s very hard to continue off where something had already gone sour, and if it’s been a long time, the feelings for the relationship, the closeness would have been completely dissipated. It leaves somewhat a kind of numbness where you could look at the person as if they were a total stranger.
But there are a few partings that I still feel for, the scars left behind, a lingering pain that is somewhat surreal.
A crimson drop of a tear from above,
Hopes crushed as if a flower encountered a false dawn,
A ray of light casts the shadow of my past,
But a smile melts it away,
Burying my shadows,
Drowning my fears.
The shadows will not die,
It cannot be murdered,
Undying, screaming out at me,
I feel like the hunter being hunted,
being haunted by the shadow beside me.
Help mistaken for cruel intentions,
In a world where I find it hard to trust,
who will I turn to that is just,
I fear that my heart will turn to rust,
And then, perhaps to dust.
-I wish not.
Something I wrote long ago, about this same topic.
“I always thought myself strong enough to withstand any emotional bombs and missiles thrown at me. But I guess some people just are able to get pass it. That chink in the armor, my weakness, my kryptonite. I wonder, what could have been, and remember that I am what I am now, a better person, though with the same weaknesses as before, weaknesses though less exposed are still sometimes vulnerable by the person who inflicted them. I’ve not felt this weak in a long time. It reminds me that I am still human with flaws. It reminds of me of what I was like before, the naïve boy.”
This is a prologue to a novel I wrote a long time ago, I forgot which version is this, but its not the latest one for sure. Perhaps one day I’ll show the most recent version which reflects my true thoughts, though most of it remains the same, just more of what my experiences have given me, placed into the prologue:
Love is something everyone tries to define, no matter how much you try and define it; it is always different one way or another. Love changes things, and relationships are never the same again. Love can be in many kinds too, sibling love, parental love, love of inanimate objects, love of a wife or husband. But most of the time people concentrate on the love between a man and a woman, boy and girl. Why do we define it so much? That kind of love affects us the most I guess, it can bring us the greatest joy, and the greatest pain. That is why that kind of love is considered so important to us. To me, love between a boy and a girl, is a union of souls. True love is where both boy and girl are best friends and lovers at the same time and that they would do anything for each other.
Often, love is a compromise for the other party, which makes one question love, but is it wrong to question another’s love? They say love should be unquestioned, but often, we still question it. In any relationship between a boy and girl, there will always be a time where their love for each other is tested, that is how the strength of their love is defined. But no matter how many relationships you have gone through, it is always different. No matter how much your experience, when its true love, you are always uneasy and unsure of yourself.
True love, how does it happen? Love at first sight? I do not really believe in such things, for even when you look into the eyes of the person, no matter how much you judge a person by their looks, you cannot tell what they are truly like, until you have been with them. For me, I judge women like a bottle of wine, the appearance of the bottle maybe attractive or seductive, but you can never know what its like or whether you would love it until you have tasted its contents. The contents are the women’s true self, her personality and her essence. A woman can be sweet or sour, strong or mildly pleasant, intoxicating or weak. She could have a great after taste that leaves you wanting for more, she could make you addicted to her. Addiction, the start of infatuation, that eventually leads to love. To me, infatuation is the part and parcel of life that eventually leads to love or rejection if it is given the chance. And like wine, women can get better with age or become the sour vinegar that would be undrinkable. It depends on her, she is the one who defines how she ages and changes. If she becomes better with age, her beauty is more enhanced and her personality becomes more refined. But those are the rare type of wines. But I did find one; she was the rarest bottle of wine I had ever found. She was the one.
Wednesday 18 July 2007
Rapture of the father
Take away all my sins,
Send it far beyond,
Leave me to face myself,
Staring at the image before me.
Clad in white without a sin,
Clean of any evil it smiles at me,
The light so bright,
The flowers around it in full bloom.
It coaxes me towards it,
Reaching out to me,
Eyes so cutting melting my thoughts,
Silent whispers pulling me along.
I sense a hint of darkness,
A glimmer of a lie,
A truth it seems,
A fact it appears to be.
Picking up the rough stone of my memories,
And preparing to throw it through the looking glass,
The image screams out at me,
The glass shatters.
Behind the glass was darkness,
Clad in black without a trace of white,
It turned away not daring to look at me,
Appearing to strain under my stare.
Retreating into the shadows,
Eyes turned away,
The seduction it seems so far a memory,
A forgotten soul.
I reach my hand out to it,
It takes my hand and I embrace it,
Forgiveness to melt away the black,
Tears to wash away the ash.
The naked figure laid bare,
Washed of its darkness,
Smoothed gently as I return it to the light,
For the rapture of the father.
-Rapture of the Father
Looking at my past, it seems so seductive, with its past glory and interactions with people. At a state of heightened awareness, a flood for the senses during those days and it’s so easy to not see the wrongs of the past. Then when I look closer and remember my mistakes, and think about my experiences more, I see that there are things which I have yet to learn and grow from, and of course remember the mistakes, and not make them again. There are times where it is so tempting to become my old self, but then after seeing what it truly is, it loses its charm, its seduction.
The following poem was written by me two years ago:
The tales of my soul,
Like everything said and done,
Mirrors along the wall,
Tell me of what I once was,
Moved so slow,
Dreamt too long,
I wonder why,
What do I need?
I Desire nothing,
Yet I need everything,
Everything from life.
-Everything.
My thoughts are often left divided when it comes to when I feel alienated by a group of people who are supposed to be my friends. It lets me see if I did anything wrong, whether my attitude towards them or things I do with them needs to be adjusted. The next thing I look at is what they expect, or how they react towards me, and finally what I expect of them, which in turn is normally the cause of me, feeling alienated.
When situations change, the way people treat you often becomes different. But it sickens me when people leave you standing there alone, totally ignored. And when they needed me, they treated me like I was their best buddy, as if everything was normal. When I wasn’t needed, they revert back to the way they treated me previously.
I can’t say that I am not affected by such things, but I am. I have feelings, and yes though I know it is how some people are, and that they do not have much impact in my life or my future, it still affects me. It eats a little bit at that hardened armor I carry around. What I find harder to handle in life though, is my expectations out of things.
We all expect something out of relationships. Be it friend, lover or relative. Not in a materialistic sense but in a form of bonding or actions. When I look at what I expect of people I realize that I have high expectations out of certain people, and very little of some.
Most of the time, those who I had high expectations of let me down, and it often occurs when there is a break in communication. Acknowledging how each other feel or are becomes non-existent, or one side did not make the point to interact, so the other’s passion or interest waned and faded away. Interaction is part of being in a relationship, and is crucial for things to work. People I have been close to, but don’t interact with aren’t considered my friends anymore, but rather as acquaintances because the lack of interaction for a long period of time creates a drift or gap between us. We grow and change all the time in one or another, and meet other people and form new relationships, thus lowering the importance of that previous relationship. It’s no fault of theirs or mine most of the time. We all move on in our lives and the people who we interact with everyday tend to take a greater importance in our lives.
I guess making the point of keeping up with the person and spending some bonding time is important. What do I mean about bonding time? It’s not simply about having fun, it’s easy to go out to a movie, go to the arcade or play sports with another person. The real part of bonding is the part where in the relationship, the two people open up to each other, discussing how they feel, how things are going on in their life, their dreams, hopes for the future and genuinely listening to each other. Now for me, I’ve only had a few people in my entire life that I can say are true friends. My expectations of them are definitely higher, but also my understanding on how they feel and what is going on in their life is definitely better.
One thing I’ve learnt is that it’s hard to make true friends, and most people who become close to becoming a true friend end up disappointing you. Especially when the person turns their back on you after you opened up so much to them, the betrayal leaving a scar on your heart. Its one of the few things that can make me cry. Yes, its heart wrenching for me. Here is a poem that I wrote two years ago about one such case.
Severance a requiem of pain,
The silence deafening,
Trust consumed by lust,
Time an endless breath,
Promises so hard to keep,
Dreams so easy to break,
Relations so easy to flake.
Is there anything left to make?
Life’s not breathing back,
In these hurried times,
A false sense of comfort,
From all around,
It surrounds and takes the pain away,
Only to return it ten-fold,
Masks of which we are, not being who we truly are,
Seeking approval in a flock,
Perhaps from those jocks,
Or those whose hearts are like rocks.
Where do I stand?
I am no jock or rock,
I guess you will keep your heart in a lock.
-Severance
The severance was painful, especially when the relationship was at its highest point when it ended. It definitely makes me a more jaded person.
To me, I find the heart is like a porcelain plate, when it is first broken, it breaks into a few pieces, and when it gets mended back to one whole piece it will retain its hairline cracks. So the following time plate is broken, it breaks into even more pieces due to the current cracks. And each time the plate is fixed, it has even more hairline cracks. The more pieces it gets broken to, it takes even longer for it to mend back together. Eventually, when the plate is broken one too many times, it becomes no more. Thus, one becomes jaded after a while. Trust in someone becomes so much harder, and sometimes one loses the chance to become a true friend with that person because you push the person away because you find it hard to open up.
Take away all my sins,
Send it far beyond,
Leave me to face myself,
Staring at the image before me.
Clad in white without a sin,
Clean of any evil it smiles at me,
The light so bright,
The flowers around it in full bloom.
It coaxes me towards it,
Reaching out to me,
Eyes so cutting melting my thoughts,
Silent whispers pulling me along.
I sense a hint of darkness,
A glimmer of a lie,
A truth it seems,
A fact it appears to be.
Picking up the rough stone of my memories,
And preparing to throw it through the looking glass,
The image screams out at me,
The glass shatters.
Behind the glass was darkness,
Clad in black without a trace of white,
It turned away not daring to look at me,
Appearing to strain under my stare.
Retreating into the shadows,
Eyes turned away,
The seduction it seems so far a memory,
A forgotten soul.
I reach my hand out to it,
It takes my hand and I embrace it,
Forgiveness to melt away the black,
Tears to wash away the ash.
The naked figure laid bare,
Washed of its darkness,
Smoothed gently as I return it to the light,
For the rapture of the father.
-Rapture of the Father
Looking at my past, it seems so seductive, with its past glory and interactions with people. At a state of heightened awareness, a flood for the senses during those days and it’s so easy to not see the wrongs of the past. Then when I look closer and remember my mistakes, and think about my experiences more, I see that there are things which I have yet to learn and grow from, and of course remember the mistakes, and not make them again. There are times where it is so tempting to become my old self, but then after seeing what it truly is, it loses its charm, its seduction.
The following poem was written by me two years ago:
The tales of my soul,
Like everything said and done,
Mirrors along the wall,
Tell me of what I once was,
Moved so slow,
Dreamt too long,
I wonder why,
What do I need?
I Desire nothing,
Yet I need everything,
Everything from life.
-Everything.
My thoughts are often left divided when it comes to when I feel alienated by a group of people who are supposed to be my friends. It lets me see if I did anything wrong, whether my attitude towards them or things I do with them needs to be adjusted. The next thing I look at is what they expect, or how they react towards me, and finally what I expect of them, which in turn is normally the cause of me, feeling alienated.
When situations change, the way people treat you often becomes different. But it sickens me when people leave you standing there alone, totally ignored. And when they needed me, they treated me like I was their best buddy, as if everything was normal. When I wasn’t needed, they revert back to the way they treated me previously.
I can’t say that I am not affected by such things, but I am. I have feelings, and yes though I know it is how some people are, and that they do not have much impact in my life or my future, it still affects me. It eats a little bit at that hardened armor I carry around. What I find harder to handle in life though, is my expectations out of things.
We all expect something out of relationships. Be it friend, lover or relative. Not in a materialistic sense but in a form of bonding or actions. When I look at what I expect of people I realize that I have high expectations out of certain people, and very little of some.
Most of the time, those who I had high expectations of let me down, and it often occurs when there is a break in communication. Acknowledging how each other feel or are becomes non-existent, or one side did not make the point to interact, so the other’s passion or interest waned and faded away. Interaction is part of being in a relationship, and is crucial for things to work. People I have been close to, but don’t interact with aren’t considered my friends anymore, but rather as acquaintances because the lack of interaction for a long period of time creates a drift or gap between us. We grow and change all the time in one or another, and meet other people and form new relationships, thus lowering the importance of that previous relationship. It’s no fault of theirs or mine most of the time. We all move on in our lives and the people who we interact with everyday tend to take a greater importance in our lives.
I guess making the point of keeping up with the person and spending some bonding time is important. What do I mean about bonding time? It’s not simply about having fun, it’s easy to go out to a movie, go to the arcade or play sports with another person. The real part of bonding is the part where in the relationship, the two people open up to each other, discussing how they feel, how things are going on in their life, their dreams, hopes for the future and genuinely listening to each other. Now for me, I’ve only had a few people in my entire life that I can say are true friends. My expectations of them are definitely higher, but also my understanding on how they feel and what is going on in their life is definitely better.
One thing I’ve learnt is that it’s hard to make true friends, and most people who become close to becoming a true friend end up disappointing you. Especially when the person turns their back on you after you opened up so much to them, the betrayal leaving a scar on your heart. Its one of the few things that can make me cry. Yes, its heart wrenching for me. Here is a poem that I wrote two years ago about one such case.
Severance a requiem of pain,
The silence deafening,
Trust consumed by lust,
Time an endless breath,
Promises so hard to keep,
Dreams so easy to break,
Relations so easy to flake.
Is there anything left to make?
Life’s not breathing back,
In these hurried times,
A false sense of comfort,
From all around,
It surrounds and takes the pain away,
Only to return it ten-fold,
Masks of which we are, not being who we truly are,
Seeking approval in a flock,
Perhaps from those jocks,
Or those whose hearts are like rocks.
Where do I stand?
I am no jock or rock,
I guess you will keep your heart in a lock.
-Severance
The severance was painful, especially when the relationship was at its highest point when it ended. It definitely makes me a more jaded person.
To me, I find the heart is like a porcelain plate, when it is first broken, it breaks into a few pieces, and when it gets mended back to one whole piece it will retain its hairline cracks. So the following time plate is broken, it breaks into even more pieces due to the current cracks. And each time the plate is fixed, it has even more hairline cracks. The more pieces it gets broken to, it takes even longer for it to mend back together. Eventually, when the plate is broken one too many times, it becomes no more. Thus, one becomes jaded after a while. Trust in someone becomes so much harder, and sometimes one loses the chance to become a true friend with that person because you push the person away because you find it hard to open up.
Sunday 8 July 2007
Choices
Light a part of my soul,
Sign a piece of the contract,
Letting the cold wind blow through my hair,
Darkness has a haunting masked appeal.
Stepping forward in the calm of silence,
Thirsting for the divine wine,
Hoping for a short reprieve,
Finding myself left with little time.
Walking the fine line of my sanity,
I wonder what is behind the door of my fate,
Searching for a vivid or clear sign,
Slowly driving me out of my mind.
-Sanity’s appeal.
Trapped between my desires and my responsibilities, it’s like the responsible choice over having water or wine when driving. Drawn between the choices, it sometimes is hard to make them, not knowing what fate holds in store for either makes it even harder. Perhaps if I knew what my fate would be, it would be easier to make the choice, but then again, if I already knew what was going to happen, where is the fun in life?
Peer pressure to smoke, to drink alcohol in excess. It is so easy to give in, these are simply choices in life that people are often pushed into. It’s an everyday occurrence that people will encounter throughout their lives. Making the right choice is important. giving into pressure or making the right choice for yourself, if you knew the fate of what drinking or smoking might have, would you choose it or not? We can never know what might truly happen, that’s why as I say, choices are often hard to make. Choices, of course in life aren’t simply all about affecting yourself, but some choices also affect others. Others who might need your help.
For example, having the choice between helping a person in distress or getting to a place on time, without having to sweat or stress oneself. At times I find myself having to make the choice between sacrificing comfort or ignoring what was happening before me, knowing that I can make a difference in the situation.
Once, when I was rushing to meet a friend, while crossing an overhead bridge, with the sun shining brightly, I’m trying to avoid perspiring too much and then I come across an old lady trying to lug up a lot of bags up the stairs. At that moment, I made a choice to help her, though I hesitated for a second because I was rather uncomfortable due to the heat, and at the back of my mind, my thoughts were that the old woman would be alright, and that I should get across quickly in a relaxed manner in order to avoid perspiring too much. At the end of it, I helped the thankful lady and she was off on her merry way after that. As for me, I could not avoid perspiring once I helped her carry her bag slowly up and across and then down the bridge, but it was the right thing to do, and despite the discomfort I experienced for the rest of the day, it was easier to handle because the reason for my discomfort was because I helped someone that day.
The biggest thing that affected me though, was my reluctance and hesitance. Yes I helped the lady, but I had to convince or make myself do it. Sometimes it’s like two people fighting for control. The next scenario which I found myself acting differently, where this time it was a young girl who was having trouble trying to pay for her bus fare as her card had run out of credit, and she did not have the coins to pay for the bus fare. I just sat in my seat on the bus watching her despair in distress along with many other passengers who did not bother either than just to look, in the end the bus driver let her sit without paying.
After some reflection, I realized that I was rather selective on two criterias when it means stepping up to help another based from that scenario. One, she was a young girl, two, I was hoping that someone else on the bus would help her.
I’m not trying to be prejudiced about age, but her being around sixteen to eighteen made me reluctant as a twenty year old guy to stand up and seem that I want to look like the “knight in shining armor” saving the damsel in distress, who expects to get something in return such as getting to know the girl, which is what others might think. That’s one thing I realize is wrong, my worry about how people would view my motives for helping made me reluctant.
My selfishness for the second reason was rather inexcusable, the thought was, “Let someone else help that person.” Which was wrong. If I had been the only person on the bus aside from her, I would have gotten up immediately to help her, but because I was at the back of the bus and there were so many other people on the bus, I thought someone else would have helped her. In the end, no one did, and maybe everyone had the same thought as me.
When I think about both reasons, it disgusts me, and makes me want to change my point of view of people and change the way I act and think. If a person needs help, I should not judge them by who or what they are, and not expect others to step up to help, and help the person myself, and not care what others might think.
How people reacted on the bus also gave me a first hand insight, on how Singaporeans in general are reluctant to help. When you look at cases where people are being beaten up or getting attacked, people do not help because they have the mentality that other people will come along and help instead of bothering to help. I know that danger brings in a whole new factor to the risk and reluctance of helping, but if the person can’t help physically, he or she should notify the authorities or call for help and try to persuade the person who is attacking to stop but either bluffing them that the authorities are here or shout at them to let them know that other people are watching them.
What has the world we know become? What are the values people around us have? Are they cowering citizens who think only of the word “I” Yes there are the few who are noble people willing to risk themselves or sacrifice their comfort in order to help another without a thought of anything in return, but how few are there? And will they always choose to help?
It scares me to think that if I were to be in trouble, a total stranger isn’t likely to help me if it was something serious as me being attacked or mugged. At the end of the day, the most reliable person to help me is myself. And I know, that not every acquaintance I have would step up to help me in times of need, that’s why I am close to only a handful of people who I know I can rely on if the situation was dire. Perhaps that’s why I keep my close circle of friends small.
As for me as a person, I must make a point to help those in need as much as I can. Of course, blindly jumping into danger is not the way to go, because not all good deeds go unpunished, if you understand the meaning. Help a person in smart way, whether it is to stop the person from being attacked, or calling help or simply stepping up to give a person in distress a helping hand or money if they need it. Making the choice to help, that’s the important first step.
Fragile the hearts of men,
Rigid the minds of people,
Rare the selflessness of few,
Quick to falter the multitude.
Righteous values often spoken,
Unpracticed by many who speak,
Hopeful of kindness from others,
Many a hand kept to themselves.
Of those who reach out to those,
When things get broken,
Making the choice to make a difference,
These are the precious few.
-Precious few
Light a part of my soul,
Sign a piece of the contract,
Letting the cold wind blow through my hair,
Darkness has a haunting masked appeal.
Stepping forward in the calm of silence,
Thirsting for the divine wine,
Hoping for a short reprieve,
Finding myself left with little time.
Walking the fine line of my sanity,
I wonder what is behind the door of my fate,
Searching for a vivid or clear sign,
Slowly driving me out of my mind.
-Sanity’s appeal.
Trapped between my desires and my responsibilities, it’s like the responsible choice over having water or wine when driving. Drawn between the choices, it sometimes is hard to make them, not knowing what fate holds in store for either makes it even harder. Perhaps if I knew what my fate would be, it would be easier to make the choice, but then again, if I already knew what was going to happen, where is the fun in life?
Peer pressure to smoke, to drink alcohol in excess. It is so easy to give in, these are simply choices in life that people are often pushed into. It’s an everyday occurrence that people will encounter throughout their lives. Making the right choice is important. giving into pressure or making the right choice for yourself, if you knew the fate of what drinking or smoking might have, would you choose it or not? We can never know what might truly happen, that’s why as I say, choices are often hard to make. Choices, of course in life aren’t simply all about affecting yourself, but some choices also affect others. Others who might need your help.
For example, having the choice between helping a person in distress or getting to a place on time, without having to sweat or stress oneself. At times I find myself having to make the choice between sacrificing comfort or ignoring what was happening before me, knowing that I can make a difference in the situation.
Once, when I was rushing to meet a friend, while crossing an overhead bridge, with the sun shining brightly, I’m trying to avoid perspiring too much and then I come across an old lady trying to lug up a lot of bags up the stairs. At that moment, I made a choice to help her, though I hesitated for a second because I was rather uncomfortable due to the heat, and at the back of my mind, my thoughts were that the old woman would be alright, and that I should get across quickly in a relaxed manner in order to avoid perspiring too much. At the end of it, I helped the thankful lady and she was off on her merry way after that. As for me, I could not avoid perspiring once I helped her carry her bag slowly up and across and then down the bridge, but it was the right thing to do, and despite the discomfort I experienced for the rest of the day, it was easier to handle because the reason for my discomfort was because I helped someone that day.
The biggest thing that affected me though, was my reluctance and hesitance. Yes I helped the lady, but I had to convince or make myself do it. Sometimes it’s like two people fighting for control. The next scenario which I found myself acting differently, where this time it was a young girl who was having trouble trying to pay for her bus fare as her card had run out of credit, and she did not have the coins to pay for the bus fare. I just sat in my seat on the bus watching her despair in distress along with many other passengers who did not bother either than just to look, in the end the bus driver let her sit without paying.
After some reflection, I realized that I was rather selective on two criterias when it means stepping up to help another based from that scenario. One, she was a young girl, two, I was hoping that someone else on the bus would help her.
I’m not trying to be prejudiced about age, but her being around sixteen to eighteen made me reluctant as a twenty year old guy to stand up and seem that I want to look like the “knight in shining armor” saving the damsel in distress, who expects to get something in return such as getting to know the girl, which is what others might think. That’s one thing I realize is wrong, my worry about how people would view my motives for helping made me reluctant.
My selfishness for the second reason was rather inexcusable, the thought was, “Let someone else help that person.” Which was wrong. If I had been the only person on the bus aside from her, I would have gotten up immediately to help her, but because I was at the back of the bus and there were so many other people on the bus, I thought someone else would have helped her. In the end, no one did, and maybe everyone had the same thought as me.
When I think about both reasons, it disgusts me, and makes me want to change my point of view of people and change the way I act and think. If a person needs help, I should not judge them by who or what they are, and not expect others to step up to help, and help the person myself, and not care what others might think.
How people reacted on the bus also gave me a first hand insight, on how Singaporeans in general are reluctant to help. When you look at cases where people are being beaten up or getting attacked, people do not help because they have the mentality that other people will come along and help instead of bothering to help. I know that danger brings in a whole new factor to the risk and reluctance of helping, but if the person can’t help physically, he or she should notify the authorities or call for help and try to persuade the person who is attacking to stop but either bluffing them that the authorities are here or shout at them to let them know that other people are watching them.
What has the world we know become? What are the values people around us have? Are they cowering citizens who think only of the word “I” Yes there are the few who are noble people willing to risk themselves or sacrifice their comfort in order to help another without a thought of anything in return, but how few are there? And will they always choose to help?
It scares me to think that if I were to be in trouble, a total stranger isn’t likely to help me if it was something serious as me being attacked or mugged. At the end of the day, the most reliable person to help me is myself. And I know, that not every acquaintance I have would step up to help me in times of need, that’s why I am close to only a handful of people who I know I can rely on if the situation was dire. Perhaps that’s why I keep my close circle of friends small.
As for me as a person, I must make a point to help those in need as much as I can. Of course, blindly jumping into danger is not the way to go, because not all good deeds go unpunished, if you understand the meaning. Help a person in smart way, whether it is to stop the person from being attacked, or calling help or simply stepping up to give a person in distress a helping hand or money if they need it. Making the choice to help, that’s the important first step.
Fragile the hearts of men,
Rigid the minds of people,
Rare the selflessness of few,
Quick to falter the multitude.
Righteous values often spoken,
Unpracticed by many who speak,
Hopeful of kindness from others,
Many a hand kept to themselves.
Of those who reach out to those,
When things get broken,
Making the choice to make a difference,
These are the precious few.
-Precious few
Saturday 7 July 2007
Reprieve
A fallen apple from my hand,
Onto this place of sand,
It is cold in this barren land.
Raising the hand to one’s face,
I feel the dried lips like dace,
I turn away from the sun’s grace.
Words become a forgotten whisper,
Thoughts a silent message to confer,
Actions become a willful endeavor.
Fate seems to spin on a wheel,
I won’t deny what I feel,
For at the end everything is sealed.
Memories slowly start fade,
Of the choices I have made,
Remembering the consequences I paid.
-The fall
Waiting, I find myself waiting for many things; we all wait for something don’t we? Often I wish I did not have to wait and what I wanted to happen would occur immediately. I guess at times I can be impatient and I hate waiting for things to happen, which often could cause more problems and even delay what I want. “Patience is a virtue” Thus quoted by a close friend of mine who believes in that quite greatly. It is perhaps one of my weaknesses, I get impatient at times, but I found that not everything would cause me to be impatient. I have learnt to control myself, though I must admit, I do get impatient, but now I try to control myself, otherwise I might do something that doesn’t benefit the whole situation.
Can such a virtue be learnt? I feel that it can be instilled rather than learnt. Being angry or annoyed is never a good thing because you often say or do things that you would not otherwise do in a normal circumstance and often those actions are regrettable. I am sure there are many people who struggle with this problem, of poor patience and a short temper. I do my best, to change.
Till the day I die, I will be me. All these changes I make in my life, the assimilation of personalities, from my experiences in life, what makes me, me is how I have taken my experiences in and become what I am today. A different person with the exact same experiences may not turn out to be a person like me. Perhaps the person might be better or worse than me, but at the end, we all get one life, and that the life we’re given, we’re living it as us, and the experiences we get are ours.
With the last breath I ever take, I hope I will have the right mindset to savor it, and know that I have lived without regret and experienced much. That’s like one of the final wishes of my life. I contemplate often about where I am now, and how much have I achieved and whether I am glad with what I got. And so far, my answer is, I am glad with it because no matter what negative parts of my life I got, the positives and each experiences makes my life worth living, and to accept what comes along my way. Also, with whatever hatred or petty grievances I’ve had with people I learnt to let go of them, and let it not affect me, thus I move on without it weighing me down, that to me is probably an important reason why I have no regret.
What I look forward to, is the people I will get to meet, interact with. To enjoy the beauty of their minds. Every new face I see has something interesting if I paid attention to it. I realize that at the end of the day, the different faces I see make life interesting as they all come with different personalities which I could get to interact with, understand, empathize and understand. I guess that’s something I like a lot, interacting with people, though eventually I will require a reprieve from it all.
As much as I like meeting new people, I can reach a point where I would want to go into a shell and be away from people and spend times reflecting on my thoughts and self. I guess when I write, it’s somewhat like this, and maybe the reason why I stopped for so long was because I never reached a stage where I needed a reprieve. My life in the military has closed so many doors, no more parties, no more outings, or much less of both. Thus, only in the start of this year, things seemed to pick up again and finally that reprieve was required.
Lying down in this boudoir,
I listen to sweet melodic tones,
I’d feel so empty without her by my side,
Whispers in my ear,
To watch the divide on her emotions,
Wanting so much to confide,
Her lips so divine,
Her words so sublime,
Losing myself in her hold,
To come undone.
-The lady in the boudoir
Wednesday 4 July 2007
Infinity complex
The ray of light flashes past my eyes,
The returning darkness a harsh reality,
I traveled far beyond a place I regret,
Turning around to face myself.
Red eyes gleaming straight at me,
I lift my hand to block the animosity,
I find myself falling to the ground,
A bright light engulfs my sight.
I fall into a place of soft grass,
The warmth of the sun shining down,
A clear blue sky all around,
I reach up for the light.
The vision begins to crumble,
I feel the crimson cutting me once more,
It has no mercy for me,
I return the favor shown towards me.
Wash away my sins,
Atone for every soul I sundered,
I tear away the darkness from inside,
And tear of my constraints.
I spread my unbound wings,
Rising above this mirror,
It claws upwards unable to reach,
I forgive it,
I forgive myself.
-Looking into the mirror
Sometimes I wonder whether if I could erase the sins I’ve committed, the wrong I’ve done, the animosity I held against others. And I realize I can’t erase them, because they’ve been done and felt already. What I can do, is learn from them, and not repeat them. Not an easy feat I guess, it is always a constant battle against myself, and after all that I must also not forget myself, who I am, and not act what in a way that is not truly who I am. For me, it was about learning to avoid violence from my experiences, to learn to make up for mistakes I’ve done, forgetting or forgiving those whom I had animosity towards and trying to mend broken bridges.
There are times where violence to me is not wrong, but it is perhaps still wrong by law to even lift a finger against another. But to defend another who is oppressed, wrongly treated, it would be wrong not to intervene. Of course, violence is not the best solution, and should be avoided; I try to control myself, even when the anger builds inside of me.
In my youth I was quick to argue and eager to prove myself if a fight came about. When I think about it, fighting never won me any friends, it just alienated me more from others, and those who I won, never really admitted the defeat, they simply continued their animosity towards me. If I lost, they would never let it die, and choose to continue their mockery or verbal abuse until I made them submit, which simply continued the cycle of violence. As I grew older I learnt that violence is not the best solution, but at times violence like I already said, is warranted. When it comes down to violence, never forget logic.
Of course, logic is important when it comes to violence, sounds nonsensical right? Violence and logic together is hard to grasp, but it is necessary if you actually have to defend someone or yourself physically. If you don’t think carefully of what you’re doing, in the heat of it, you might let someone get behind you and hurt you, or you might end up hurting the person badly, or even killing him. That’s why, controlling one’s emotions and thinking clearly is necessary, hard to do when your adrenaline is pumping and I can say, every time it occurs, there is always a sense of fear in me. I know I am no god, I am a human being, and I am only one man or that my friends are just human beings too. Knowing when it is pointless to fight, where your physical intervention will not result in achieving anything either than your own injury or friend's, then trying to pull the person away and running is the best logic. Is it a shame to know when you can't win? Logic, violence is only warranted when you have no other choice at that point of time and if you can achieve a better result than not using violence at all. Don't fight to win, fight to protect.
Not to digress any further into the details, the main objective is to get into it if you have to, bring the person in distress out of danger and disable or stop the aggressor or the bully and get yourself and your friends out without further violence. That’s the best case scenario.
At the end of it, what is worse than physical violence is verbal abuse/violence. I believe if words are worse because they are usually the cause of most fights. Many a time, I find it only takes a few words and gestures to get a fight to occur. Whether physical or not, the words started it. Often in the heat of the moment our mind might select the most cutting remarks we can think of that moment that causes the other to crack.
That’s why, I avoid having verbal arguments, and I hate to fight verbally. If one avoids the verbal fight, the friction is greatly reduced, though the anger is still probably there, like fuel. Fuel alone often will not result in a fight, however if you use words, its like sparks that ignites the volatile fuel. I’ve gotten into way too many fights because of things I’ve said, or retorted to what people said to me, so I guess that part I learnt the most from. Experience is a harsh lesson, especially when you find yourself pit against something you can’t win. I'm glad I learnt loss, which allowed me to learn.
I’m not the quickest of wit when it comes to arguments because I don’t argue very often. But when I sit down to contemplate I often come up with better things than I could ever have when it comes down to arguments. And like I said, I hate arguing. I like the policy of being friends with everyone. Of course, its a fool's dream right? I'd like to continue living that dream as much as possible. Of course the first and most important person to not fight with is myself.
I wonder what would happen if I met my younger self. The different “versions” of me, would they listen to their older self? The advice I had to give them? Perhaps not, or it would not be needed because they’ve yet to experience the events that allow for me to give the advice. I think that some versions of me might try to fight me, trying to prove themselves more capable, eager to take down this person who claims to be wiser. I would not emphasize my strength, though some versions of me have greater strength physically in certain areas, fortunately my wider knowledge and experience of martial arts will give me a better edge. But is there a point to fighting at all? So what if I win, it will not teach him anything, either than he suffered a bitter loss to someone stronger than him. I guess I’d just block all the hits and try to bring him to his senses. If all else fails, just give in and say he is the better person and try to turn the situation in to a way of becoming friends or at least as respectful acquaintances. And hopefully in encountering the dark side of myself, I might show it the light and erase the darkness completely, leaving only the light, to which I could use to protect.
A sudden flash of anger,
words crossed paths,
figures surrounding a friend,
a red moon rises,
I will not stand for it,
I rise to pull him away from it,
the moon bleeds,
away from the crimson,
into the light of safety,
doing what he would have done for me,
protect.
-To protect
The ray of light flashes past my eyes,
The returning darkness a harsh reality,
I traveled far beyond a place I regret,
Turning around to face myself.
Red eyes gleaming straight at me,
I lift my hand to block the animosity,
I find myself falling to the ground,
A bright light engulfs my sight.
I fall into a place of soft grass,
The warmth of the sun shining down,
A clear blue sky all around,
I reach up for the light.
The vision begins to crumble,
I feel the crimson cutting me once more,
It has no mercy for me,
I return the favor shown towards me.
Wash away my sins,
Atone for every soul I sundered,
I tear away the darkness from inside,
And tear of my constraints.
I spread my unbound wings,
Rising above this mirror,
It claws upwards unable to reach,
I forgive it,
I forgive myself.
-Looking into the mirror
Sometimes I wonder whether if I could erase the sins I’ve committed, the wrong I’ve done, the animosity I held against others. And I realize I can’t erase them, because they’ve been done and felt already. What I can do, is learn from them, and not repeat them. Not an easy feat I guess, it is always a constant battle against myself, and after all that I must also not forget myself, who I am, and not act what in a way that is not truly who I am. For me, it was about learning to avoid violence from my experiences, to learn to make up for mistakes I’ve done, forgetting or forgiving those whom I had animosity towards and trying to mend broken bridges.
There are times where violence to me is not wrong, but it is perhaps still wrong by law to even lift a finger against another. But to defend another who is oppressed, wrongly treated, it would be wrong not to intervene. Of course, violence is not the best solution, and should be avoided; I try to control myself, even when the anger builds inside of me.
In my youth I was quick to argue and eager to prove myself if a fight came about. When I think about it, fighting never won me any friends, it just alienated me more from others, and those who I won, never really admitted the defeat, they simply continued their animosity towards me. If I lost, they would never let it die, and choose to continue their mockery or verbal abuse until I made them submit, which simply continued the cycle of violence. As I grew older I learnt that violence is not the best solution, but at times violence like I already said, is warranted. When it comes down to violence, never forget logic.
Of course, logic is important when it comes to violence, sounds nonsensical right? Violence and logic together is hard to grasp, but it is necessary if you actually have to defend someone or yourself physically. If you don’t think carefully of what you’re doing, in the heat of it, you might let someone get behind you and hurt you, or you might end up hurting the person badly, or even killing him. That’s why, controlling one’s emotions and thinking clearly is necessary, hard to do when your adrenaline is pumping and I can say, every time it occurs, there is always a sense of fear in me. I know I am no god, I am a human being, and I am only one man or that my friends are just human beings too. Knowing when it is pointless to fight, where your physical intervention will not result in achieving anything either than your own injury or friend's, then trying to pull the person away and running is the best logic. Is it a shame to know when you can't win? Logic, violence is only warranted when you have no other choice at that point of time and if you can achieve a better result than not using violence at all. Don't fight to win, fight to protect.
Not to digress any further into the details, the main objective is to get into it if you have to, bring the person in distress out of danger and disable or stop the aggressor or the bully and get yourself and your friends out without further violence. That’s the best case scenario.
At the end of it, what is worse than physical violence is verbal abuse/violence. I believe if words are worse because they are usually the cause of most fights. Many a time, I find it only takes a few words and gestures to get a fight to occur. Whether physical or not, the words started it. Often in the heat of the moment our mind might select the most cutting remarks we can think of that moment that causes the other to crack.
That’s why, I avoid having verbal arguments, and I hate to fight verbally. If one avoids the verbal fight, the friction is greatly reduced, though the anger is still probably there, like fuel. Fuel alone often will not result in a fight, however if you use words, its like sparks that ignites the volatile fuel. I’ve gotten into way too many fights because of things I’ve said, or retorted to what people said to me, so I guess that part I learnt the most from. Experience is a harsh lesson, especially when you find yourself pit against something you can’t win. I'm glad I learnt loss, which allowed me to learn.
I’m not the quickest of wit when it comes to arguments because I don’t argue very often. But when I sit down to contemplate I often come up with better things than I could ever have when it comes down to arguments. And like I said, I hate arguing. I like the policy of being friends with everyone. Of course, its a fool's dream right? I'd like to continue living that dream as much as possible. Of course the first and most important person to not fight with is myself.
I wonder what would happen if I met my younger self. The different “versions” of me, would they listen to their older self? The advice I had to give them? Perhaps not, or it would not be needed because they’ve yet to experience the events that allow for me to give the advice. I think that some versions of me might try to fight me, trying to prove themselves more capable, eager to take down this person who claims to be wiser. I would not emphasize my strength, though some versions of me have greater strength physically in certain areas, fortunately my wider knowledge and experience of martial arts will give me a better edge. But is there a point to fighting at all? So what if I win, it will not teach him anything, either than he suffered a bitter loss to someone stronger than him. I guess I’d just block all the hits and try to bring him to his senses. If all else fails, just give in and say he is the better person and try to turn the situation in to a way of becoming friends or at least as respectful acquaintances. And hopefully in encountering the dark side of myself, I might show it the light and erase the darkness completely, leaving only the light, to which I could use to protect.
A sudden flash of anger,
words crossed paths,
figures surrounding a friend,
a red moon rises,
I will not stand for it,
I rise to pull him away from it,
the moon bleeds,
away from the crimson,
into the light of safety,
doing what he would have done for me,
protect.
-To protect
Sunday 1 July 2007
Faded color
Drones all around me,
The color of life becomes faded,
The glimpses of color so few,
Voices around me whispering so silently.
Their dreams seem so far flung,
I reach out for the bright colors,
The stares like knives cutting,
Their emotions feel so cold.
Lined up on a one way path,
Actions almost the same,
Fear a fuel for their conformity,
I try to pull one away.
Screams so frantic like shattering glass,
Fragile minds that are color blind,
Change seems like a nightmare,
She struggles to get back to the line.
Grabbing her by her cold wrist,
Warming her with my words,
Adding color to her eyes,
At the end of it she cries.
-Faded color
Conformity, to society’s culture, to one’s social structure and surroundings, we all conform to a certain extent, but are we drones to it all? I try to break free, not to follow the pressures of conforming. Blogging is part of this current culture we live in, to write your thoughts online, in that sense I am conforming to culture, but where does conforming stop and individualism start? What is blogging? Is it a sort of online dairy, of what one thinks feels or what they did with their life?
But then again, it’s popular to show the world your blog, to become linked with other people’s blog, having people view it and so on so forth. But what are the reasons’ for your blog? To tell the world your life’s story? Rant about how you feel about something? Try to become more popular? To tell a story that sends a message out to the world on what might be happening? What needs to be changed?
There are so many reason why people blog. To the point, I ask myself, why do I blog? It’s partly to express my views on issues or to post my work on poetry or stories. Do I have a lot to tell? I wonder that myself, blogging to me is like a conversation with one’s self, thinking and contemplating.
Zeng Jinyan is the online blogger who fought a war of words against the secret police, telling about her experiences from the oppressive activities of the Beijing secret police which was blocked by China and she was harassed and intimated for doing so. She used blogging as the medium to make the truth become her power to reach out to the world to let it know what is happening.
Blogging isn’t simply just words, it allows people to put their emotion into it where others can feel it too. And nowadays, even flash videos are integrated into blog pages, using mediums like you tube or Google video. The online flash video revolution meeting the blogging revolution, v-blogging. The world is rapidly changing. Years ago when I had a look at blogging for the first time, it had just words. Now with RSS feeds, flash videos, blogs which are viewed thousands of times in a single day, so much has changed.
The day and age of self advertising had become part of our culture. And many youths begin to follow it. To seek to become popular in a culture, to reach out the world and make their mark. When I was in secondary school, friendster and my space was a way of defining one’s popularity, the no. of friends and views of one’s profile made an impact on society. Pictures and profiles, it became part of society, to not follow it, would make you seem like an outcast. This is where the pressures of conforming come along. I must say, I did conform to that pressure, most of my friends did. For some, it became a popularity contest.
Before long, the world which seemed to become vibrant and alive, full of color from this new culture soon became blurred, and the color soon seemed to fade. Most individuals simply blogged what happened in their life daily, not really talking about issues that happened around them or in the world, no true contemplating about their life and the world. It was simply just stating what was going on in their life, such as their activities and that was it, less and less people truly wrote. A blog that was a dairy, a form of reflection become a report, a report to the world on what you were doing.
I intend to contemplate, to dream to write and blog.
Thoughts drawn from a river,
A diamond bracelet constricts her hand,
She sheds a tear of blood,
And breaths deep before the plunge.
Filled by flowing emotions,
The chains of her past begin to pull her down,
Her screams make no sound,
Drowning in her crushed dreams.
Awoken from this nightmare,
She kicks off the sands of past,
Taking off the bracelet,
She walks off holding his hand
-The diamond bracelet
Drones all around me,
The color of life becomes faded,
The glimpses of color so few,
Voices around me whispering so silently.
Their dreams seem so far flung,
I reach out for the bright colors,
The stares like knives cutting,
Their emotions feel so cold.
Lined up on a one way path,
Actions almost the same,
Fear a fuel for their conformity,
I try to pull one away.
Screams so frantic like shattering glass,
Fragile minds that are color blind,
Change seems like a nightmare,
She struggles to get back to the line.
Grabbing her by her cold wrist,
Warming her with my words,
Adding color to her eyes,
At the end of it she cries.
-Faded color
Conformity, to society’s culture, to one’s social structure and surroundings, we all conform to a certain extent, but are we drones to it all? I try to break free, not to follow the pressures of conforming. Blogging is part of this current culture we live in, to write your thoughts online, in that sense I am conforming to culture, but where does conforming stop and individualism start? What is blogging? Is it a sort of online dairy, of what one thinks feels or what they did with their life?
But then again, it’s popular to show the world your blog, to become linked with other people’s blog, having people view it and so on so forth. But what are the reasons’ for your blog? To tell the world your life’s story? Rant about how you feel about something? Try to become more popular? To tell a story that sends a message out to the world on what might be happening? What needs to be changed?
There are so many reason why people blog. To the point, I ask myself, why do I blog? It’s partly to express my views on issues or to post my work on poetry or stories. Do I have a lot to tell? I wonder that myself, blogging to me is like a conversation with one’s self, thinking and contemplating.
Zeng Jinyan is the online blogger who fought a war of words against the secret police, telling about her experiences from the oppressive activities of the Beijing secret police which was blocked by China and she was harassed and intimated for doing so. She used blogging as the medium to make the truth become her power to reach out to the world to let it know what is happening.
Blogging isn’t simply just words, it allows people to put their emotion into it where others can feel it too. And nowadays, even flash videos are integrated into blog pages, using mediums like you tube or Google video. The online flash video revolution meeting the blogging revolution, v-blogging. The world is rapidly changing. Years ago when I had a look at blogging for the first time, it had just words. Now with RSS feeds, flash videos, blogs which are viewed thousands of times in a single day, so much has changed.
The day and age of self advertising had become part of our culture. And many youths begin to follow it. To seek to become popular in a culture, to reach out the world and make their mark. When I was in secondary school, friendster and my space was a way of defining one’s popularity, the no. of friends and views of one’s profile made an impact on society. Pictures and profiles, it became part of society, to not follow it, would make you seem like an outcast. This is where the pressures of conforming come along. I must say, I did conform to that pressure, most of my friends did. For some, it became a popularity contest.
Before long, the world which seemed to become vibrant and alive, full of color from this new culture soon became blurred, and the color soon seemed to fade. Most individuals simply blogged what happened in their life daily, not really talking about issues that happened around them or in the world, no true contemplating about their life and the world. It was simply just stating what was going on in their life, such as their activities and that was it, less and less people truly wrote. A blog that was a dairy, a form of reflection become a report, a report to the world on what you were doing.
I intend to contemplate, to dream to write and blog.
Thoughts drawn from a river,
A diamond bracelet constricts her hand,
She sheds a tear of blood,
And breaths deep before the plunge.
Filled by flowing emotions,
The chains of her past begin to pull her down,
Her screams make no sound,
Drowning in her crushed dreams.
Awoken from this nightmare,
She kicks off the sands of past,
Taking off the bracelet,
She walks off holding his hand
-The diamond bracelet
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