Angel eyes
The sound of your voice still echoes in my ears,
Of words that I will never hear again,
Lost are the times where I would bask in your shine,
All that’s left is a sweet picture in my mind.
-Lost whisper
“Take a moment to empty your mind and close your eyes and breathe deep the air around you, and feel it fill you inside, and then let it out slowly as you feel the stresses of life escape as you breathe out.” That’s what I tell myself at the end of a day as I sit by my computer to think and contemplate, and taking a break to look out the window and pausing to relax. I find that it really helps to clear my mind, and ease the day’s stress away. Sometimes when things get rushed, we tend to forget about taking breaks, and that could often lead to a burnout.
Remember the time when we used to look into each other’s eyes,
Resting our heads on each other’s chest to hear the heart’s beat.
-Remember
When you feel the emotions welling up inside, you feel the urge to let it out, as if it’s burning inside you. As your vision begins to blur, you feel it coming in waves as if hit by a tide from an ocean of emotions inside yourself. And when you finally give in to that emotion, and let it all fall, you feel the emotions that caused it so deeply. Tears are precious, it represents the emotions inside that are overflowing out.
As the tears begins to well up in your eyes,
It catches the light as it flows out in precious drops,
I reach out my hand to catch its falling grace,
Holding you in my embrace,
To calm the expression on your face.
-Comfort
Everyone cries, no matter how much they try to put a brave front, eventually one day they cry. Be it out of joy or sadness, we all cry. I remember the times I’ve cried, when no one was there to see my tears, as I rested against the post of my bed and tear. Thinking about the times I’ve held someone who was crying. To comfort them, to give them my shoulder and my embrace.
It means a lot to have someone to cry to. However, as I think about some of the times I held a person when they cried; it was because of me, indirectly or directly. All I can do, once I made a person cry is to give them my comfort and apologies and try to make it up to them. I know that, it’s sometimes because of my temper or impatience when they make me upset, and that I should try to be more patient. It is always harder when that person means so much to you, because their every action towards you has an even greater effect on you emotionally than anyone else. That’s why people who I have been close to have the greatest ability to make me cry, because when they upset me, betray me or shun me, they affect me greatly. A loss of their relation would affect me deeply, of which makes me ponder deeply about why it all fell apart.
I guess that’s why those who cry because of me cry because my actions towards them affect them greatly because I mean a lot to them. A tear is precious, especially a tear shed for someone who was close to you, or is close to you.
Some of the hardest hitting was with close friends. Friends whom I could not imagine not speaking to when I was close to them, those people made me shed tears because I felt the pain very deeply. Especially when they were an important or large part of my life, where I devoted much of my time and attention to, giving them higher priority over others, and thus the more the invested emotion, the more painful the ending of the relationship. That’s why I have only a few close friends, and I do realize I expect a lot out of those close to me, but that’s because they are dependable and have been there for years. It is formed from deep respect and commitment to the point where I would be willing to risk myself even for their sake. To protect them or aid them, to be there as one should be as a close friend as they would for me.
So far, no one new to me has been able to withstand such a relationship yet, they all seem to fall apart after a while, no matter the amount of promise it might show in the initial start. I’ve had quite a few close relationships that had such a strong emotional bond that was formed quickly over a short period of time. But many of these bonds eventually fell apart after less attention and time was put into it, or an argument brought a standstill to all the conversations. To me a close friend requires a special bond. Such a bond requires a lot of patience, commitment and understanding from both parties. And with the way I am, I guess its not easy being a close friend, its easy to be an acquaintance, but a close friend? Step right up and see if you’re up to the challenge. Few have been successful so far. So few.
As the cold clear water is poured into the stained glass,
I look at the deep etches around the tip,
The water begins to turn a deep dark red,
As my lips touch the glass.
Show me the way to drink the glass of life.
We have no choice about how to do it,
Not a single path without stains,
Without shedding tears in the rain,
Or crying out against the pain.
Help me step out of my shadow’s embrace.
The crowd stares across the room,
Finding myself unable to complete the sentence,
The shadows begin cover the light’s ambience.
It seems like there no way to escape its vengeance.
There is no where left to hide but to face it.
-Glass of life
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
Saturday, 19 January 2008
Cradle’s Regalia
I bend down to tie my shoelaces twice,
Adjusting my dark trusted shades as I look behind,
Casting a shadow in the light that begins to fades thin,
I stare at the worn chains on my hands.
The moment when the clock strikes twelve.
A figure stands judging me,
From behind the looking glass,
It stands firm showing no fear,
It beckons at me,
Mocking.
The energy flows from my eyes.
I pick up the smoothed brick of my wasted time,
I look up at the sky and roar,
Bearing down the brick in my hands with all my weight,
As I fall to my knees I close my eyes.
I hear the breaking chains as I stand up.
The figure begins to scream,
I pull my hand backwards,
And with all my effort I send it forth,
Smashing through the glass.
It is done.
-Breaking the record’s song.
I close my eyes, as if from a view of a camera going 360 degrees around me, in one quick cinematic, from toe to head. With the wind blowing in my hair and me stretching my hands forward, there it is, freedom in form of a plaque, a thank you and the return of my identity card. The current record is broken, its time to play the next one. This record’s done.
And here I am sitting down, listening to music through my earphones and typing away, thinking about the two years have come to pass, from the moment I sat down in the chair and they took my identity, to create a new generic one, which crumbled within minutes of taking it, only to leave my real persona behind, It never touched me thoroughly, I don’t it would have changed me at all even if it were even more, but it did give me an insight to how many people actually were broken by the army so long ago. An old age ritual that many Singaporeans have and will continue to go through. A rite of passage of sorts, that only Singaporean men have the chance to understand because they went through it. Women have their own, and their first rite of passage as women starts way earlier than us in a certain way, I guess most would understand I mean, a nice way to call it, would be the crimson moon. It something men will never get a chance to understand, women might have the chance to experience what we get, if they entered the army and actually shaved their head. But I don’t think anyone has done it yet in Singapore army.
From the island camp to the hill of officers, it was a great change of scenery and not to mention location. The very entrance of Safti was something to behold, a smooth giant wall with the logo of Safti on it, the home of the officer cadets. Perhaps the most beautiful camp (People often argue with me to insist that I call it an institute, but it’s easier for me to just call it camp) in all the Singapore armed forces. It has a terraced garden that leads from the main OCS building down several flights of stairs down a hill to the cookhouse, that eventual brings you to a pond that is filtered from a fountain that is filled with many coy fish and two beautifully groomed trees on each side that grow on carpet grass. If it wasn’t a camp, it would have made an amazing resort.
The record has stopped playing, the music is finished, no need to run around scrambling for a chair anymore, no more calls in the middle of the night asking about military work, keys, information. Its time I put a new record on to play, and dance a new dance.
The fog that once was has cleared,
Leaving a vast field that had been left to fallow,
The blindfolded dance in the fog has come to end.
A ray of light hits my eyes as I remove the blindfold,
The music begins to flow around me,
I feel the movement in my feet.
With each sway to the beat I relearn a feat,
Remembering what it is like to believe in myself,
To reach my hand out to grab my dreams.
-The dance of dreams
After much afterthought, I’ve always contemplated what represents me and means the most to me. I thought of objects that represented me, which would be my regalia. Regalia are about someone’s insignia of office that is represented through objects such as shields, crowns, swords or even clothes, I see regalia as the insignia of my persona and true self. I’ve thought, what would be my regalia? Looking at my white oak bokkens, those were the first two objects that came to my mind, do they represent me? The wooden version of the katana, bokkens were meant to for training the art of using a katana without the dangers of a metal blade. The bokkens are aren’t harmless though, the durability of the Japanese white oak and design can be used to shatter bone and even kill, but is less deadly that a live katana that can cut through skin and even joints easily. For many samurai, their lives and spirits could be summed up in these blades, but I know I am no samurai of these times, but rather a Ronin, who is someone who follows no master and is not bound by laws. The Japanese translation of Ronin is “drifting wanderer.”
But are these bokkens truly my regalia? Do they represent me best? That was what I questioned. A close friend of mine would dispute it, saying that I do not represent the honor that is associated with the sword. Much of my skill with the sword is self learnt with guidance here and there from various people, one important thing I learnt was that the main thing about the sword is not simply about striking the sword with one’s hand, but rather, the sword’s power comes from the entire body’s movement, from step to stance and commitment of the move or block. The sword is a weapon that can be used to destroy, but it can also be a weapon that is used to protect, to preserve life. Thus, in using it to protect, you give life in a way. My bokkens represent my desire to protect and strength, they are definitely one of my regalia.
The next object I looked at was my 2003 leather composite converse basketball, which represents my pass passion for basketball, playing basketball recently, I realized that what I learnt from my sword art, could be applied in basketball, the game was simply the ball, it was about the entire ball affecting the movement of the ball. I never had such insight before, thus I would not consider the basketball as a choice of regalia. It was not a representation of me now, but it does represent my past, but its impact isn’t that great in my life. I hope to play basketball more regularly for many years to come, and hopefully reignite the passion within me and my close friends whom I used to play countless hours of basketball with.
The third thing I looked at was my book of poems. It contains my best work, handwritten in different colors. For me to hand write something would mean I truly like it and find it worth the time of me slowly writing it carefully in with maximum focus. The reason being is that I have terrible handwriting due to my hands being unsteady. I could never draw a straight line, and I even have problems drawing a straight line with a ruler. There is always a slight shiver, thus I normally always typed out my poetry, and I don’t write down very often. In order for the handwriting to appear eligible and even look alright, I have to focus very hard to keep my hand steady which often leads to my hand cramping if I were to write for too long. Thus, the keyboard is like a gift from the gods, a precious medium for me to weave my words into poetry, without the strain on my hands.
The cover of the book is a picture of sandman in a gold background, it was given to me by my brother as a Christmas present a few years ago. It’s something I treasure deeply, and it only contains a few poems, although I’ve written more than a hundred fifty (I lost count, this was the number perhaps a year and a half ago.) I only truly liked a few and fewer that I found worth writing into the book. Since the start of my secondary school many years ago, I started writing poetry that was used to express myself, and it became something more than just a simple avenue to express my feelings but an art which I came to appreciate and enjoy. It is definitely something that means a lot to me, and represents my artistic persona, it is to me definitely one of my regalia.
The bokkens and my book of poems are my two regalia, which I treasure greatly and keep with great care. The two items represents two sides of me, one side to protect and to strive to be a better person, and the other to create and express myself.
I say a quiet prayer on my knees in front my blade,
With my hands cupped around the handle,
I bow my head as the tears rain to the ground,
I ask for no forgiveness.
But I ask for the strength to wield my soul with conviction.
There is a chain tied round my waist,
It’s connected to a book of words,
In which represent my the voice of my soul,
It is louder than any word I have spoken.
From which my contemplations of condemnation leap out into reality.
As I wield my blade to protect,
I offer comfort to those,
In my dance of words,
A solemn embrace of the physical and mental.
Giving an ending which is a coup de grace.
-Cradle’s Regalia.
I bend down to tie my shoelaces twice,
Adjusting my dark trusted shades as I look behind,
Casting a shadow in the light that begins to fades thin,
I stare at the worn chains on my hands.
The moment when the clock strikes twelve.
A figure stands judging me,
From behind the looking glass,
It stands firm showing no fear,
It beckons at me,
Mocking.
The energy flows from my eyes.
I pick up the smoothed brick of my wasted time,
I look up at the sky and roar,
Bearing down the brick in my hands with all my weight,
As I fall to my knees I close my eyes.
I hear the breaking chains as I stand up.
The figure begins to scream,
I pull my hand backwards,
And with all my effort I send it forth,
Smashing through the glass.
It is done.
-Breaking the record’s song.
I close my eyes, as if from a view of a camera going 360 degrees around me, in one quick cinematic, from toe to head. With the wind blowing in my hair and me stretching my hands forward, there it is, freedom in form of a plaque, a thank you and the return of my identity card. The current record is broken, its time to play the next one. This record’s done.
And here I am sitting down, listening to music through my earphones and typing away, thinking about the two years have come to pass, from the moment I sat down in the chair and they took my identity, to create a new generic one, which crumbled within minutes of taking it, only to leave my real persona behind, It never touched me thoroughly, I don’t it would have changed me at all even if it were even more, but it did give me an insight to how many people actually were broken by the army so long ago. An old age ritual that many Singaporeans have and will continue to go through. A rite of passage of sorts, that only Singaporean men have the chance to understand because they went through it. Women have their own, and their first rite of passage as women starts way earlier than us in a certain way, I guess most would understand I mean, a nice way to call it, would be the crimson moon. It something men will never get a chance to understand, women might have the chance to experience what we get, if they entered the army and actually shaved their head. But I don’t think anyone has done it yet in Singapore army.
From the island camp to the hill of officers, it was a great change of scenery and not to mention location. The very entrance of Safti was something to behold, a smooth giant wall with the logo of Safti on it, the home of the officer cadets. Perhaps the most beautiful camp (People often argue with me to insist that I call it an institute, but it’s easier for me to just call it camp) in all the Singapore armed forces. It has a terraced garden that leads from the main OCS building down several flights of stairs down a hill to the cookhouse, that eventual brings you to a pond that is filtered from a fountain that is filled with many coy fish and two beautifully groomed trees on each side that grow on carpet grass. If it wasn’t a camp, it would have made an amazing resort.
The record has stopped playing, the music is finished, no need to run around scrambling for a chair anymore, no more calls in the middle of the night asking about military work, keys, information. Its time I put a new record on to play, and dance a new dance.
The fog that once was has cleared,
Leaving a vast field that had been left to fallow,
The blindfolded dance in the fog has come to end.
A ray of light hits my eyes as I remove the blindfold,
The music begins to flow around me,
I feel the movement in my feet.
With each sway to the beat I relearn a feat,
Remembering what it is like to believe in myself,
To reach my hand out to grab my dreams.
-The dance of dreams
After much afterthought, I’ve always contemplated what represents me and means the most to me. I thought of objects that represented me, which would be my regalia. Regalia are about someone’s insignia of office that is represented through objects such as shields, crowns, swords or even clothes, I see regalia as the insignia of my persona and true self. I’ve thought, what would be my regalia? Looking at my white oak bokkens, those were the first two objects that came to my mind, do they represent me? The wooden version of the katana, bokkens were meant to for training the art of using a katana without the dangers of a metal blade. The bokkens are aren’t harmless though, the durability of the Japanese white oak and design can be used to shatter bone and even kill, but is less deadly that a live katana that can cut through skin and even joints easily. For many samurai, their lives and spirits could be summed up in these blades, but I know I am no samurai of these times, but rather a Ronin, who is someone who follows no master and is not bound by laws. The Japanese translation of Ronin is “drifting wanderer.”
But are these bokkens truly my regalia? Do they represent me best? That was what I questioned. A close friend of mine would dispute it, saying that I do not represent the honor that is associated with the sword. Much of my skill with the sword is self learnt with guidance here and there from various people, one important thing I learnt was that the main thing about the sword is not simply about striking the sword with one’s hand, but rather, the sword’s power comes from the entire body’s movement, from step to stance and commitment of the move or block. The sword is a weapon that can be used to destroy, but it can also be a weapon that is used to protect, to preserve life. Thus, in using it to protect, you give life in a way. My bokkens represent my desire to protect and strength, they are definitely one of my regalia.
The next object I looked at was my 2003 leather composite converse basketball, which represents my pass passion for basketball, playing basketball recently, I realized that what I learnt from my sword art, could be applied in basketball, the game was simply the ball, it was about the entire ball affecting the movement of the ball. I never had such insight before, thus I would not consider the basketball as a choice of regalia. It was not a representation of me now, but it does represent my past, but its impact isn’t that great in my life. I hope to play basketball more regularly for many years to come, and hopefully reignite the passion within me and my close friends whom I used to play countless hours of basketball with.
The third thing I looked at was my book of poems. It contains my best work, handwritten in different colors. For me to hand write something would mean I truly like it and find it worth the time of me slowly writing it carefully in with maximum focus. The reason being is that I have terrible handwriting due to my hands being unsteady. I could never draw a straight line, and I even have problems drawing a straight line with a ruler. There is always a slight shiver, thus I normally always typed out my poetry, and I don’t write down very often. In order for the handwriting to appear eligible and even look alright, I have to focus very hard to keep my hand steady which often leads to my hand cramping if I were to write for too long. Thus, the keyboard is like a gift from the gods, a precious medium for me to weave my words into poetry, without the strain on my hands.
The cover of the book is a picture of sandman in a gold background, it was given to me by my brother as a Christmas present a few years ago. It’s something I treasure deeply, and it only contains a few poems, although I’ve written more than a hundred fifty (I lost count, this was the number perhaps a year and a half ago.) I only truly liked a few and fewer that I found worth writing into the book. Since the start of my secondary school many years ago, I started writing poetry that was used to express myself, and it became something more than just a simple avenue to express my feelings but an art which I came to appreciate and enjoy. It is definitely something that means a lot to me, and represents my artistic persona, it is to me definitely one of my regalia.
The bokkens and my book of poems are my two regalia, which I treasure greatly and keep with great care. The two items represents two sides of me, one side to protect and to strive to be a better person, and the other to create and express myself.
I say a quiet prayer on my knees in front my blade,
With my hands cupped around the handle,
I bow my head as the tears rain to the ground,
I ask for no forgiveness.
But I ask for the strength to wield my soul with conviction.
There is a chain tied round my waist,
It’s connected to a book of words,
In which represent my the voice of my soul,
It is louder than any word I have spoken.
From which my contemplations of condemnation leap out into reality.
As I wield my blade to protect,
I offer comfort to those,
In my dance of words,
A solemn embrace of the physical and mental.
Giving an ending which is a coup de grace.
-Cradle’s Regalia.
Thursday, 10 January 2008
From the edge
Holding onto the rope of a long forgotten sentence,
Where the words begin to fade slowly away,
Knowing that it is now beyond recall.
I’ve smoked the last stub from this pipe of dreams,
Letting it fill my head as the smoke slowly clears,
Where I rest against a cracked wall and look up at the sky.
A drop of cold dew lands on my face,
The drop slowly dripping down,
I open my scarred hand to catch its falling grace.
Evaporating like the evanescence of my dreams as it falls,
Reminding me of how many things have come to past,
How many things that are now long lost.
I close my palm gently on the evanescent drop,
Feeling my heart beating hard in my chest as I press the drop against it,
Breathing in the electric air and taking in the flair.
-Things to treasure.
A final moment in a cold room surrounded by no warmth, and the clock strikes twelve, and so begins the twenty first year of my life. I spent my final hour of last year in an operations room, serving my country one last time.
I pretty much have only two things left to do, say goodbye to my comrades and start the process of becoming a civilian once more. No obligation left to the military, but I guess I still have to serve the country one way another, in different forms, the price of citizenship. Most people who look back at their military service have much memories or memorable experiences, and I guess I’ve had plenty to see, experience and learn. That I am grateful for, though more money would have made life a lot easier. The pay was insufficient, it was enough to survive, but not enough to enjoy. Life wasn’t a luxury.
I can’t wait to go and work for a few months before school starts, actually earn a decent amount of money, meet new people, have a more mixed group of colleagues and add something new to my resume. I hunger for something new, something fresh. With the help of one of my closest friends, I’ll get it. I truly wonder what mediacorp has to offer, and I am up for the challenge to do it well. The next thing on my list of priorities (Besides money making) is to catch up more with my friends and get myself in more active sports. My basketball is kind of soft and underused, a 2004 converse that’s still in good condition, I guess I’ll pick it up once more, time to start with the basics, practicing my dribbling.
Taking a look at what basketball was to me, it was a sport that I took up in secondary school. To be truthful, I was never really good at it, but I enjoyed the sport, it was a lot of fun and I spent much of my secondary school time playing basketball. The reason why I started playing it was because of an anime called slam dunk which inspired me to play it.
Even though I did not have the skill, I made use of fitness to play, my advantage over most players was my stamina and jumping which despite my overweight body then and lack of height, was better than most average players. I’d have to thank my running for that, and crazy squatting and running with 30 to 40kg climbing gear up Bukit Timah hill.
Those were the days, when I pushed my legs all the time. I never trained my upper body much but focused so much on my running and lifting of weight. My legs were double the size they are now when I was sixteen which was the peak of my leg strength and mass. I’d say, I looked weird back then, having legs that were like a body builders with an upper body that looked so unfit. But it was amazing to be able to jump high and handle so much strain then. I felt like I could fly, I felt invincible.
If I were to compete with my younger self in terms of lower body strength, I would lose thoroughly through and through. Thanks to long distance running two years ago, a recent broken toe, lack of regular training during these two years, and more focus on my upper body, I’ve lost much of the muscle and strength I gained during that time. I do hope to regain at least most of that strength back, but with my condition, I don’t know I can ever train as hard as I used to back then. So much for this Clark Kent with kryptonite strapped to his back.
What advantage I do have now, is more knowledge on training effectively. The disadvantage is that I am not as driven as I used to be. I had zeal once, and I’ve lost much of it, I do hope to find it again once more. Till then, I have to rely purely on discipline and my desire to keep on improving myself.
My approach to life now is to follow a list of priorities, and having the discipline to achieve these priorities. Over the last few years, my path of life has changed quite a bit which now requires me to reset some goals in my life in order to know where my focus in life should be. The three things aside from my relations with people are studies, fitness and money, in order of importance, study being the most important.
The reason for this priority is time. Time is something that is most precious, and now that I am twenty, I don’t have a lot of time to waste because I am no longer considered a teenager but more of an adult, thus studies hold a large priority in my life. Fitness goes with my studies now more than ever because exercise will be the school of my study, thus they will go hand in hand.
Money, which is essential for many things, comes in various degrees of importance in terms of requirements. The bare essentials for paying for phone bills, transport and food to the moderate luxuries of clothes, games and entertainment to the extravagance of holidays and fine dining. Right now, before my school starts, I can afford to spend time earning money to perhaps cover some of my moderate luxuries, but it is of least importance because I will have more time than anything else to earn money once I am done studying, and most importantly not wasting time by doing well in my studies to prevent delays.
Looking back, it seems like only yesterday when I was sixteen, starting uni, it was such an alluring concept, early degree, faster than all my peers, even my female counterparts. But it showed my folly and immaturity because I simply scrapped through with what I needed, yes I left the course in decent standing, to get that certificate I surely would have gotten without a doubt, but was that enough? My parents expected more, and so did I, I guess I needed time to think about my life, on what I wanted to do with my life.
I still have the option of returning to uni, but I have found a different path I wish to take, and business is not what I want. My interests lie in sports and if it means going backwards to achieve what I want, I welcome it, because I’ve kind of missed out on experience of pre-uni. A new experience, a lesson to be learnt, a whole new world I’ve yet to touch, and definitely with a more mature mind than I had when I was sixteen. Four years on, with much more room for maturing and growing up still, I feel more prepared and determined to achieve the best. It’s time to spread my wings and fly once more. Free.
Within this river are oceans of unwashed thoughts,
I find myself constrained in these subtleties,
Sometimes I find myself lying down on its bed,
Looking up at the world in a construed view.
-Through the looking glass
Holding onto the rope of a long forgotten sentence,
Where the words begin to fade slowly away,
Knowing that it is now beyond recall.
I’ve smoked the last stub from this pipe of dreams,
Letting it fill my head as the smoke slowly clears,
Where I rest against a cracked wall and look up at the sky.
A drop of cold dew lands on my face,
The drop slowly dripping down,
I open my scarred hand to catch its falling grace.
Evaporating like the evanescence of my dreams as it falls,
Reminding me of how many things have come to past,
How many things that are now long lost.
I close my palm gently on the evanescent drop,
Feeling my heart beating hard in my chest as I press the drop against it,
Breathing in the electric air and taking in the flair.
-Things to treasure.
A final moment in a cold room surrounded by no warmth, and the clock strikes twelve, and so begins the twenty first year of my life. I spent my final hour of last year in an operations room, serving my country one last time.
I pretty much have only two things left to do, say goodbye to my comrades and start the process of becoming a civilian once more. No obligation left to the military, but I guess I still have to serve the country one way another, in different forms, the price of citizenship. Most people who look back at their military service have much memories or memorable experiences, and I guess I’ve had plenty to see, experience and learn. That I am grateful for, though more money would have made life a lot easier. The pay was insufficient, it was enough to survive, but not enough to enjoy. Life wasn’t a luxury.
I can’t wait to go and work for a few months before school starts, actually earn a decent amount of money, meet new people, have a more mixed group of colleagues and add something new to my resume. I hunger for something new, something fresh. With the help of one of my closest friends, I’ll get it. I truly wonder what mediacorp has to offer, and I am up for the challenge to do it well. The next thing on my list of priorities (Besides money making) is to catch up more with my friends and get myself in more active sports. My basketball is kind of soft and underused, a 2004 converse that’s still in good condition, I guess I’ll pick it up once more, time to start with the basics, practicing my dribbling.
Taking a look at what basketball was to me, it was a sport that I took up in secondary school. To be truthful, I was never really good at it, but I enjoyed the sport, it was a lot of fun and I spent much of my secondary school time playing basketball. The reason why I started playing it was because of an anime called slam dunk which inspired me to play it.
Even though I did not have the skill, I made use of fitness to play, my advantage over most players was my stamina and jumping which despite my overweight body then and lack of height, was better than most average players. I’d have to thank my running for that, and crazy squatting and running with 30 to 40kg climbing gear up Bukit Timah hill.
Those were the days, when I pushed my legs all the time. I never trained my upper body much but focused so much on my running and lifting of weight. My legs were double the size they are now when I was sixteen which was the peak of my leg strength and mass. I’d say, I looked weird back then, having legs that were like a body builders with an upper body that looked so unfit. But it was amazing to be able to jump high and handle so much strain then. I felt like I could fly, I felt invincible.
If I were to compete with my younger self in terms of lower body strength, I would lose thoroughly through and through. Thanks to long distance running two years ago, a recent broken toe, lack of regular training during these two years, and more focus on my upper body, I’ve lost much of the muscle and strength I gained during that time. I do hope to regain at least most of that strength back, but with my condition, I don’t know I can ever train as hard as I used to back then. So much for this Clark Kent with kryptonite strapped to his back.
What advantage I do have now, is more knowledge on training effectively. The disadvantage is that I am not as driven as I used to be. I had zeal once, and I’ve lost much of it, I do hope to find it again once more. Till then, I have to rely purely on discipline and my desire to keep on improving myself.
My approach to life now is to follow a list of priorities, and having the discipline to achieve these priorities. Over the last few years, my path of life has changed quite a bit which now requires me to reset some goals in my life in order to know where my focus in life should be. The three things aside from my relations with people are studies, fitness and money, in order of importance, study being the most important.
The reason for this priority is time. Time is something that is most precious, and now that I am twenty, I don’t have a lot of time to waste because I am no longer considered a teenager but more of an adult, thus studies hold a large priority in my life. Fitness goes with my studies now more than ever because exercise will be the school of my study, thus they will go hand in hand.
Money, which is essential for many things, comes in various degrees of importance in terms of requirements. The bare essentials for paying for phone bills, transport and food to the moderate luxuries of clothes, games and entertainment to the extravagance of holidays and fine dining. Right now, before my school starts, I can afford to spend time earning money to perhaps cover some of my moderate luxuries, but it is of least importance because I will have more time than anything else to earn money once I am done studying, and most importantly not wasting time by doing well in my studies to prevent delays.
Looking back, it seems like only yesterday when I was sixteen, starting uni, it was such an alluring concept, early degree, faster than all my peers, even my female counterparts. But it showed my folly and immaturity because I simply scrapped through with what I needed, yes I left the course in decent standing, to get that certificate I surely would have gotten without a doubt, but was that enough? My parents expected more, and so did I, I guess I needed time to think about my life, on what I wanted to do with my life.
I still have the option of returning to uni, but I have found a different path I wish to take, and business is not what I want. My interests lie in sports and if it means going backwards to achieve what I want, I welcome it, because I’ve kind of missed out on experience of pre-uni. A new experience, a lesson to be learnt, a whole new world I’ve yet to touch, and definitely with a more mature mind than I had when I was sixteen. Four years on, with much more room for maturing and growing up still, I feel more prepared and determined to achieve the best. It’s time to spread my wings and fly once more. Free.
Within this river are oceans of unwashed thoughts,
I find myself constrained in these subtleties,
Sometimes I find myself lying down on its bed,
Looking up at the world in a construed view.
-Through the looking glass
Sunday, 30 December 2007
Where the pieces fall
A moment passed by me in the glimpse of a second,
On the road of an end I know not where,
Taking in everything from the cool air around,
I just want to run away.
So many things left untouched.
Where do I find my way back?
Would she be there waiting for me?
Running beyond the speed of sound,
Crossing borders and ignoring all bounds.
We broke so many laws of the world.
Pressured for a quick escape,
I find myself talking to the mirror,
It refuses to smile back at me,
The eyes cutting me.
I turn the lights off.
Falling to my knees and feeling the cool floor,
The dust moves from the fall,
Like a small cloud,
I scream back at the darkened figure before me.
I pick up a stone.
A ray of light shine through the curtains,
Onto to the cutting eyes like an impetus,
I scream at it as I prepare to throw,
A sudden jolt like lightning throughout me.
The shattering glass reveals the one who waited for me.
-The return
Welcome back, a long break from this place has left it rather old and untouched. A return to an old friend, a return to my mirror mask. The call like an impetus from an audience calling an actor back onto the stage, the burning desire to once more weave words that I’ve long since stopped due to unforeseen circumstances.
It’s been a month plus since my computer went down. And for the longest time, I’ve not written a single poem. With the failure of my motherboard, came the unintentional hiatus of my writing. My over reliance of a keyboard as my pen, and word document as my paper makes me realize, that my inspiration does get scribbled or penned out, it gets typed out, and not having a computer to work on when I have the inspiration kind of turns off my mood to write.
I am actually glad my computer is not working, because I no longer have the distraction of computer games, and online chatting which took up a large part of my daily time. The down side is, I don’t get to download new music and update my Ipod, and thus the music I listen to tends to get rather old. With the new time I gained due to lack of distractions, I had more time to go out, spend time with friends, read and enjoy more of the world around me.
I’ve experience much in my time away from my computer. Right now, I am in the very last stage of my national service, and don’t really have to go back to work anymore, except for a cohesion and the final clearance day when I become a civilian once more. No more threat of a detention barracks for this boy anymore, just plain old jail.
I’ve had a chance to see more of a world I never really saw, which gave me much insight to myself, and how certain people can be really outgoing and fun. A close friend told me not to deliberate so much, classify things and categorize everything, because when I did, I lost sight of the beauty of the object, person or event. Of course it’s rather difficult to get out of the instilled norms of society that have been wired in for years, it makes us categorize nearly everything in life. From sexual orientation to education and jobs. I try not to, but I still do, which makes it harder for me to truly judge a person without biasness. Almost all of us have this sort of biasness, no matter how we consider ourselves as unbiased when judging new people, we still categorize a person rather quickly and then make a judgment of them according to the category we placed them in.
I’ve met so many colorful personalities through this close friend of mine, who shared with me many of his life experiences that could relate to mine. I’ve seen so much that most people would normally not see or experience, which makes me grateful for knowing him and getting to be his close friend. If I had to describe him in simply one word, it would be peace, and to describe our friendship it would be amazing.
One of the notable personalities that I met through my close friend was Hossan Leong, an interesting and funny character whom I respect greatly in terms of his acting ability and wittiness on the go. I’ve had the chance to see him perform on stage a few times and heard some of the songs he sang which were posted on you-tube, their really funny.
Another notable person I’ve gotten to know more in my life is this girl whom I’ve met many years ago, only on an off chance (Breaking a toe and being bored at home kind of chance) Someone whom is one of the best conversationalist I’ve ever met in my life, thus being able to converse on hours on end without getting bored, and her similar interest in writing and poetry, and not to mention having a scary ability of predicting what the heck I am doing (That freaks me out, as if she might be spying on me) I’d have to say, she’s become one of my close friends in such a short time, a new person to share my thoughts with, and thus a exchange of thoughts, and a mash of intellectual conversation which I must say is nothing short of yum. Their like a delicious food for thought, which reaffirms that in this world, there are people to enjoy the beauty of the mind with.
Droplets form against the window,
Reflecting the light as it glows,
Rolling down the blinds slowly,
I see a face staring back at me.
Across to the other house.
The single light shining towards me,
She stretches out her hand,
The rain droplets land softly on it,
A sudden gust of wind blows her hair across.
She laughs gently.
Turning the knob of the window,
I push it open and step out onto the cold tiles,
My heart beats to a sudden pulse,
Knowing this isn’t just some simple wile.
The distance between us feels so real.
Shining the ray of light to show a path to walk,
Beckoning and guiding me towards her,
Towards the final steps,
The very edge.
A leap of faith.
I take in the cool damp air as I prepare to hold it.
Rushing forward in one long breath.
I cross the edge of my sanity,
To bridge the final jump.
Into her arms.
-Into her arms.
A moment passed by me in the glimpse of a second,
On the road of an end I know not where,
Taking in everything from the cool air around,
I just want to run away.
So many things left untouched.
Where do I find my way back?
Would she be there waiting for me?
Running beyond the speed of sound,
Crossing borders and ignoring all bounds.
We broke so many laws of the world.
Pressured for a quick escape,
I find myself talking to the mirror,
It refuses to smile back at me,
The eyes cutting me.
I turn the lights off.
Falling to my knees and feeling the cool floor,
The dust moves from the fall,
Like a small cloud,
I scream back at the darkened figure before me.
I pick up a stone.
A ray of light shine through the curtains,
Onto to the cutting eyes like an impetus,
I scream at it as I prepare to throw,
A sudden jolt like lightning throughout me.
The shattering glass reveals the one who waited for me.
-The return
Welcome back, a long break from this place has left it rather old and untouched. A return to an old friend, a return to my mirror mask. The call like an impetus from an audience calling an actor back onto the stage, the burning desire to once more weave words that I’ve long since stopped due to unforeseen circumstances.
It’s been a month plus since my computer went down. And for the longest time, I’ve not written a single poem. With the failure of my motherboard, came the unintentional hiatus of my writing. My over reliance of a keyboard as my pen, and word document as my paper makes me realize, that my inspiration does get scribbled or penned out, it gets typed out, and not having a computer to work on when I have the inspiration kind of turns off my mood to write.
I am actually glad my computer is not working, because I no longer have the distraction of computer games, and online chatting which took up a large part of my daily time. The down side is, I don’t get to download new music and update my Ipod, and thus the music I listen to tends to get rather old. With the new time I gained due to lack of distractions, I had more time to go out, spend time with friends, read and enjoy more of the world around me.
I’ve experience much in my time away from my computer. Right now, I am in the very last stage of my national service, and don’t really have to go back to work anymore, except for a cohesion and the final clearance day when I become a civilian once more. No more threat of a detention barracks for this boy anymore, just plain old jail.
I’ve had a chance to see more of a world I never really saw, which gave me much insight to myself, and how certain people can be really outgoing and fun. A close friend told me not to deliberate so much, classify things and categorize everything, because when I did, I lost sight of the beauty of the object, person or event. Of course it’s rather difficult to get out of the instilled norms of society that have been wired in for years, it makes us categorize nearly everything in life. From sexual orientation to education and jobs. I try not to, but I still do, which makes it harder for me to truly judge a person without biasness. Almost all of us have this sort of biasness, no matter how we consider ourselves as unbiased when judging new people, we still categorize a person rather quickly and then make a judgment of them according to the category we placed them in.
I’ve met so many colorful personalities through this close friend of mine, who shared with me many of his life experiences that could relate to mine. I’ve seen so much that most people would normally not see or experience, which makes me grateful for knowing him and getting to be his close friend. If I had to describe him in simply one word, it would be peace, and to describe our friendship it would be amazing.
One of the notable personalities that I met through my close friend was Hossan Leong, an interesting and funny character whom I respect greatly in terms of his acting ability and wittiness on the go. I’ve had the chance to see him perform on stage a few times and heard some of the songs he sang which were posted on you-tube, their really funny.
Another notable person I’ve gotten to know more in my life is this girl whom I’ve met many years ago, only on an off chance (Breaking a toe and being bored at home kind of chance) Someone whom is one of the best conversationalist I’ve ever met in my life, thus being able to converse on hours on end without getting bored, and her similar interest in writing and poetry, and not to mention having a scary ability of predicting what the heck I am doing (That freaks me out, as if she might be spying on me) I’d have to say, she’s become one of my close friends in such a short time, a new person to share my thoughts with, and thus a exchange of thoughts, and a mash of intellectual conversation which I must say is nothing short of yum. Their like a delicious food for thought, which reaffirms that in this world, there are people to enjoy the beauty of the mind with.
Droplets form against the window,
Reflecting the light as it glows,
Rolling down the blinds slowly,
I see a face staring back at me.
Across to the other house.
The single light shining towards me,
She stretches out her hand,
The rain droplets land softly on it,
A sudden gust of wind blows her hair across.
She laughs gently.
Turning the knob of the window,
I push it open and step out onto the cold tiles,
My heart beats to a sudden pulse,
Knowing this isn’t just some simple wile.
The distance between us feels so real.
Shining the ray of light to show a path to walk,
Beckoning and guiding me towards her,
Towards the final steps,
The very edge.
A leap of faith.
I take in the cool damp air as I prepare to hold it.
Rushing forward in one long breath.
I cross the edge of my sanity,
To bridge the final jump.
Into her arms.
-Into her arms.
Tuesday, 30 October 2007
Of things once broken
At a glance I saw what’s real,
I hope you’d listen to my appeal,
I’ve kept my lips closed with this seal,
Please stop time.
I wondered how much I would fare,
But I’ve held back for I did not dare,
As I worry for those whom I care,
Please don’t stare.
I fell to both knees in front of you,
I felt the grass beneath us two,
I wondered if you knew who,
What I had gone through.
A resonance.
Dizzy as I rested my head in your lap,
I left my writings laid bare,
Of the things I wanted to say and do,
Of the things I wrote.
I cried slowly.
I looked up and reached for your face,
Holding your hair that feels like lace,
As I was cradled in your grace,
Protected by your wings and comforted by your gaze.
All I wanted to do was to follow a path,
I never knew what fate I had cast,
The angels knew my draft,
That I’d never have enough.
Of you.
-Turn the lights off
The champagne bottle came ajar, from the top shelf of the wine fridge, as the bottles came crashing down, I reached out, catching what I could, and I caught almost all, except for one. The champagne bottle fell, and in my mind imagined it shattering into many pieces. It never broke, something else did. That something broke its fall, my littlest toe.
I had broken the bone in my little toe, and now I am once again on medical leave. Considering that the previous week I had a fever and I had been on medical leave for 4 days since the week before’s Monday, now I am on another 3 days since yesterday. I have yet to go to work for such a long time. I’ve never had so much sleep in my life, the energy is there, but the complications of my toe, doesn’t allow me to do that much. As I look out the window, at those who run by my house outside and I could not help but stop and stare. It’s been so long since I had a good run. I’ve lost so much weight due to being sick last week, so much that I increased the number of pull-ups I could do without training. For such a long time I had been stuck at twelve, now I am at fifteen, how astonishing to me it is. All this rest must be getting to me, and weight loss too.
Being stuck at home has been a bore, though I had a lot of time to work on my writings, plan my life and future, with the comfort of a twelve pack of light coke (I love light coke, it’s pretty much my favorite drink, not for the diet factor, but the taste and feeling, it makes me high!) I’ve become pretty restless. My close female friend visited me twice during this time, to keep me company, which I gratefully appreciate. A change of pace and someone to sit down and have dinner with, and with her ranting of her life to keep my day interesting. She also reminded me that I have not baked in a long time.
I realize I only bake when I am truly happy. I guess I’ve been alright, but I’ve not been satisfied with my life so far, only when I am truly contented, perhaps then I’ll bake once more. I do cook here and there, some pasta, some risotto, a baked fish, fried pork knuckles, it’s not that often that I cook though. The desire isn’t really there. I’m at the state where I am waiting for what I’ve planned out. Army doesn’t really put much purpose in and meaning to my life. Dota is not life, though its fun, it’s just that, its just entertainment. I want to feel achievement and purpose. Army will not have much impact on my future, and with it coming to a close, I am just waiting for the move, the transition which I’m wondering if I am ready for. Whether I am ready or not, I know I want it.
Well, till I’m contented, ginger bread men and peanut butter cookies will have to wait.
The moment of change feels so real, as much as my toe is really broken, I feel the change coming, the world slowing down in the last moments of this part of my life. This chapter is in its final paragraph, and the future plays I wish to do, the poems I am to write, the stories to conjure, the new chapter to begin. I’ve touched the parchment on which to write the next chapter, now is to prepare for its prologue. It makes me curious and excited about what I’ll get to learn and experience, the people whom I will get to meet and interact with. It feels so real, because it is.
I look through the tainted glass,
And see what has come to pass,
Of the commitments that never last,
Why did they end so fast?
Some choices were better than some,
Of all the things I wanted to say,
I wanted to feel,
At the end of tragedy.
I showed no mercy,
I sundered hearts with urgency,
To an extent of pure gluttony,
Was hurt the true currency?
And so the souls left broken,
In my wake I left then empty,
Only for them to return wanting,
I offer them no reprieve.
And when the shadows cast a cloth,
Covering the lights that are turned off,
Their tears dried like a dry cough,
There I find the revenge they sought.
I turn the lights off,
And close my eyes,
I let the glass fly,
And let myself come undone.
-A simple tragedy
Well the days where I left much broken souls in my wake is long past. I stare down at the shadows long cast, in the light, it casts one long shadow. I found that the past haunts are nothing to worry about anymore. The ghosts have given up, though perhaps not forgiven. I wonder if eventually the spirits will be laid to rest.
Was I wrong to be what I was last time? I lived my life, I betrayed no one, and I just lived it. Was that so wrong? And being true to myself, not lying to myself, and not to the other person who I was with, was that wrong? I questioned it several times myself, and each time, I knew that it wasn’t, I would never experienced what I have had if I did not. In which it makes culminates to what I am, for to me also learn what is it in life that I want. Would you know what you want straight away? I know I did not, I had to try, I had to see, I had to learn, I had to explore and experience.
Still, I can’t help how some people have reacted to ending of a relationship. As much as some people found it hard to let go, they turned to blame the other person. No matter how amiable or appropriate the circumstances. I guess some people will always victimize themselves, and in order to do it, they have to villanize someone, and I guess I had to be that one. So much for being their superman, now I am their Lex Luther.
The difference between them blaming me, and me not blaming them for anything, I believe in myself.
The journey seems so perilous,
I’ve reached the end of the Sabbath,
Surrounded from tyrants all around,
I create my path in this requiem of dreams.
Treading in this icy water,
Numbing the cold silence,
The waves hitting me gently,
As I close my eyes and see the dagger.
I cut my way through my demons,
To the summit of my destiny,
Where the angel of mercy resides,
The moment a coup de ceour.
Reaching for her,
I take her into my arms,
Spreading my wings,
Believing in myself.
-Believing in myself.
At a glance I saw what’s real,
I hope you’d listen to my appeal,
I’ve kept my lips closed with this seal,
Please stop time.
I wondered how much I would fare,
But I’ve held back for I did not dare,
As I worry for those whom I care,
Please don’t stare.
I fell to both knees in front of you,
I felt the grass beneath us two,
I wondered if you knew who,
What I had gone through.
A resonance.
Dizzy as I rested my head in your lap,
I left my writings laid bare,
Of the things I wanted to say and do,
Of the things I wrote.
I cried slowly.
I looked up and reached for your face,
Holding your hair that feels like lace,
As I was cradled in your grace,
Protected by your wings and comforted by your gaze.
All I wanted to do was to follow a path,
I never knew what fate I had cast,
The angels knew my draft,
That I’d never have enough.
Of you.
-Turn the lights off
The champagne bottle came ajar, from the top shelf of the wine fridge, as the bottles came crashing down, I reached out, catching what I could, and I caught almost all, except for one. The champagne bottle fell, and in my mind imagined it shattering into many pieces. It never broke, something else did. That something broke its fall, my littlest toe.
I had broken the bone in my little toe, and now I am once again on medical leave. Considering that the previous week I had a fever and I had been on medical leave for 4 days since the week before’s Monday, now I am on another 3 days since yesterday. I have yet to go to work for such a long time. I’ve never had so much sleep in my life, the energy is there, but the complications of my toe, doesn’t allow me to do that much. As I look out the window, at those who run by my house outside and I could not help but stop and stare. It’s been so long since I had a good run. I’ve lost so much weight due to being sick last week, so much that I increased the number of pull-ups I could do without training. For such a long time I had been stuck at twelve, now I am at fifteen, how astonishing to me it is. All this rest must be getting to me, and weight loss too.
Being stuck at home has been a bore, though I had a lot of time to work on my writings, plan my life and future, with the comfort of a twelve pack of light coke (I love light coke, it’s pretty much my favorite drink, not for the diet factor, but the taste and feeling, it makes me high!) I’ve become pretty restless. My close female friend visited me twice during this time, to keep me company, which I gratefully appreciate. A change of pace and someone to sit down and have dinner with, and with her ranting of her life to keep my day interesting. She also reminded me that I have not baked in a long time.
I realize I only bake when I am truly happy. I guess I’ve been alright, but I’ve not been satisfied with my life so far, only when I am truly contented, perhaps then I’ll bake once more. I do cook here and there, some pasta, some risotto, a baked fish, fried pork knuckles, it’s not that often that I cook though. The desire isn’t really there. I’m at the state where I am waiting for what I’ve planned out. Army doesn’t really put much purpose in and meaning to my life. Dota is not life, though its fun, it’s just that, its just entertainment. I want to feel achievement and purpose. Army will not have much impact on my future, and with it coming to a close, I am just waiting for the move, the transition which I’m wondering if I am ready for. Whether I am ready or not, I know I want it.
Well, till I’m contented, ginger bread men and peanut butter cookies will have to wait.
The moment of change feels so real, as much as my toe is really broken, I feel the change coming, the world slowing down in the last moments of this part of my life. This chapter is in its final paragraph, and the future plays I wish to do, the poems I am to write, the stories to conjure, the new chapter to begin. I’ve touched the parchment on which to write the next chapter, now is to prepare for its prologue. It makes me curious and excited about what I’ll get to learn and experience, the people whom I will get to meet and interact with. It feels so real, because it is.
I look through the tainted glass,
And see what has come to pass,
Of the commitments that never last,
Why did they end so fast?
Some choices were better than some,
Of all the things I wanted to say,
I wanted to feel,
At the end of tragedy.
I showed no mercy,
I sundered hearts with urgency,
To an extent of pure gluttony,
Was hurt the true currency?
And so the souls left broken,
In my wake I left then empty,
Only for them to return wanting,
I offer them no reprieve.
And when the shadows cast a cloth,
Covering the lights that are turned off,
Their tears dried like a dry cough,
There I find the revenge they sought.
I turn the lights off,
And close my eyes,
I let the glass fly,
And let myself come undone.
-A simple tragedy
Well the days where I left much broken souls in my wake is long past. I stare down at the shadows long cast, in the light, it casts one long shadow. I found that the past haunts are nothing to worry about anymore. The ghosts have given up, though perhaps not forgiven. I wonder if eventually the spirits will be laid to rest.
Was I wrong to be what I was last time? I lived my life, I betrayed no one, and I just lived it. Was that so wrong? And being true to myself, not lying to myself, and not to the other person who I was with, was that wrong? I questioned it several times myself, and each time, I knew that it wasn’t, I would never experienced what I have had if I did not. In which it makes culminates to what I am, for to me also learn what is it in life that I want. Would you know what you want straight away? I know I did not, I had to try, I had to see, I had to learn, I had to explore and experience.
Still, I can’t help how some people have reacted to ending of a relationship. As much as some people found it hard to let go, they turned to blame the other person. No matter how amiable or appropriate the circumstances. I guess some people will always victimize themselves, and in order to do it, they have to villanize someone, and I guess I had to be that one. So much for being their superman, now I am their Lex Luther.
The difference between them blaming me, and me not blaming them for anything, I believe in myself.
The journey seems so perilous,
I’ve reached the end of the Sabbath,
Surrounded from tyrants all around,
I create my path in this requiem of dreams.
Treading in this icy water,
Numbing the cold silence,
The waves hitting me gently,
As I close my eyes and see the dagger.
I cut my way through my demons,
To the summit of my destiny,
Where the angel of mercy resides,
The moment a coup de ceour.
Reaching for her,
I take her into my arms,
Spreading my wings,
Believing in myself.
-Believing in myself.
Thursday, 25 October 2007
Temperature Rising
Holding onto the feelings as I kneel on the ground,
Knowing that if things need be I’d apologize,
Before it’s too late.
Taking in all the words in a blinding heartbeat,
I hear the sirens blaring constantly,
I can’t make a sound.
Drifting away from the narrow lines,
I hear the cracks beneath the ice,
I breathe deep.
As I turn around,
The lights flash across the river,
The temperature is rising.
-Temperature Rising
I had fever a few days ago, and it was the most draining thing, 3 days on and off high fever where I had two distinct dreams. Today being the first day my head is clear, I spent the day recollecting, and reflecting about my dreams and I guess I felt like writing. In one of those dreams, I dreamt about meeting a group I met a long time ago who were biased against me before they even got to know me, due to someone bad mouthing me:
The jury passed its judgement long before the evidence was presented. It was too late, I did not need to say another word, or even apologize for being who I was. I turned to look at them with my hurt eyes; they did not acknowledge it the slightest bit. It was as if they were cutting me down with their cold stares.
Words of another about you can often crack the thin ice that everyone starts with when making new friends. People often make their judgements about a person early, and stick with that judgement. A prejudice, especially when someone else tells them something about the other. Positive comments help a bit, but negative comments often break the ice that everyone treads when meeting for the first time.
Those were the times in the past, I remember about such things, I have a personality that can make enemies without me knowing. Because often, those who don’t like me are quite two-faced, wearing masks in front of me, pretending to like me, acting as a friend towards me, but behind my back revealing their true dislike for me. These to me are the worst people I meet, but I’ve come to accept it as part of life. There will always be two-faced people, and I know there are people out there who I’d not like but not show it, and there are a few who I warn people about, from my various experiences with them. Thus, it can’t be blamed, we all work that way right? Some people may not like me, I may not like them, all of those who I’ve warned about are generally those with low EQ, not that I have high EQ myself, but I guess and hope I have relatively decent EQ. I think I’ve gotten better as I’ve gotten older, learning what are traits I posses that should be toned down or featured less except on certain occasions (I rather not talk about that today, perhaps another)
Another dream I had was about a time I had to say goodbye to a close friend who passed away a long time ago. Here is a poem I wrote a long while ago, as a tribute to him.
As I heard the music of the funeral band,
I reached out for her hand,
Only to stumble and be lost.
As the first drop came,
An endless pour,
Caught in a world of endless doors,
I began to cry,
And then a hand grasped mine.
I was out of my daze,
And I was met with many a gaze,
I heard the speech of praise,
From a priest of heavenly grace,
The hearts had been bled,
The tears were shed,
At the end of everything said,
I said my goodbye as I cried in my bed.
- Goodbye
When I wrote that poem, I felt every word bleed out from my heart, along with my tears, it is something I will never forget. He was young, and his death struck a loss in my heart, and it showed me the mortality in the world we all live in. Death can come at any time, to anyone. For him it was too early, and I know that no matter what I do, I can’t make a difference. It makes me feel so weak. I can’t change the past, I can’t change death.
What I can do, is make a difference in the lives of others who are still there. The very people I can reach out to, those whose lives I can still affect. That’s why, I intend to go far in life, achieve my goals and reach out to those who need help. With my very effort and money, I will directly help, and not with some organization that takes the money, stuffs it in a bank and takes out a fraction of the money to use to help people. Donating to a charity is like paying someone else to care for another, it’s so easy to pay, but are you truly affecting another person’s life?
Everyone has a limited time on this world, but it doesn’t mean they have to suffer. For those who are better off, more fortunate, they should reach out to help someone. Even just one person, it would make a difference. When someone who is blind who needs help to get somewhere, an elderly who needs help to carry something up a flight of stairs, teaching English to underprivileged children, when someone has fallen down, all these acts of charity make a big difference in their lives, even if it may seem small, it meant that there was someone there to offer aid, support, help. Although it may seem like one small act, you should remember, that every act is important because it affects the person you’re helping. Remember that every person you help has feelings too and, how much joy or ease you bring to their lives when you help them. I guess that’s why I help, I want to make a difference, and I want to affect people’s lives in a positive manner, even if it may bring a perceived inconvenience, I find that its better to help the person in need. Don’t donate to an organization where volunteers reach out for you, reach out with your very own hands.
From everything that is given,
Of the trust emplaced upon,
I cross the line once again,
Pushing you wayward.
Sometimes I find things ajar.
Broken glasses across the floor,
Scented candles lay beside me,
The wind rushing through my hair,
On my shirt there is a tear.
Wearing the past long torn.
Memories of times of lust,
Long since the dream’s bust.
Of the times I’ve felt guilty,
Fallen into a place,
Where you cannot follow me,
I close my eyes and pray.
Please let me stay.
-Calm
Holding onto the feelings as I kneel on the ground,
Knowing that if things need be I’d apologize,
Before it’s too late.
Taking in all the words in a blinding heartbeat,
I hear the sirens blaring constantly,
I can’t make a sound.
Drifting away from the narrow lines,
I hear the cracks beneath the ice,
I breathe deep.
As I turn around,
The lights flash across the river,
The temperature is rising.
-Temperature Rising
I had fever a few days ago, and it was the most draining thing, 3 days on and off high fever where I had two distinct dreams. Today being the first day my head is clear, I spent the day recollecting, and reflecting about my dreams and I guess I felt like writing. In one of those dreams, I dreamt about meeting a group I met a long time ago who were biased against me before they even got to know me, due to someone bad mouthing me:
The jury passed its judgement long before the evidence was presented. It was too late, I did not need to say another word, or even apologize for being who I was. I turned to look at them with my hurt eyes; they did not acknowledge it the slightest bit. It was as if they were cutting me down with their cold stares.
Words of another about you can often crack the thin ice that everyone starts with when making new friends. People often make their judgements about a person early, and stick with that judgement. A prejudice, especially when someone else tells them something about the other. Positive comments help a bit, but negative comments often break the ice that everyone treads when meeting for the first time.
Those were the times in the past, I remember about such things, I have a personality that can make enemies without me knowing. Because often, those who don’t like me are quite two-faced, wearing masks in front of me, pretending to like me, acting as a friend towards me, but behind my back revealing their true dislike for me. These to me are the worst people I meet, but I’ve come to accept it as part of life. There will always be two-faced people, and I know there are people out there who I’d not like but not show it, and there are a few who I warn people about, from my various experiences with them. Thus, it can’t be blamed, we all work that way right? Some people may not like me, I may not like them, all of those who I’ve warned about are generally those with low EQ, not that I have high EQ myself, but I guess and hope I have relatively decent EQ. I think I’ve gotten better as I’ve gotten older, learning what are traits I posses that should be toned down or featured less except on certain occasions (I rather not talk about that today, perhaps another)
Another dream I had was about a time I had to say goodbye to a close friend who passed away a long time ago. Here is a poem I wrote a long while ago, as a tribute to him.
As I heard the music of the funeral band,
I reached out for her hand,
Only to stumble and be lost.
As the first drop came,
An endless pour,
Caught in a world of endless doors,
I began to cry,
And then a hand grasped mine.
I was out of my daze,
And I was met with many a gaze,
I heard the speech of praise,
From a priest of heavenly grace,
The hearts had been bled,
The tears were shed,
At the end of everything said,
I said my goodbye as I cried in my bed.
- Goodbye
When I wrote that poem, I felt every word bleed out from my heart, along with my tears, it is something I will never forget. He was young, and his death struck a loss in my heart, and it showed me the mortality in the world we all live in. Death can come at any time, to anyone. For him it was too early, and I know that no matter what I do, I can’t make a difference. It makes me feel so weak. I can’t change the past, I can’t change death.
What I can do, is make a difference in the lives of others who are still there. The very people I can reach out to, those whose lives I can still affect. That’s why, I intend to go far in life, achieve my goals and reach out to those who need help. With my very effort and money, I will directly help, and not with some organization that takes the money, stuffs it in a bank and takes out a fraction of the money to use to help people. Donating to a charity is like paying someone else to care for another, it’s so easy to pay, but are you truly affecting another person’s life?
Everyone has a limited time on this world, but it doesn’t mean they have to suffer. For those who are better off, more fortunate, they should reach out to help someone. Even just one person, it would make a difference. When someone who is blind who needs help to get somewhere, an elderly who needs help to carry something up a flight of stairs, teaching English to underprivileged children, when someone has fallen down, all these acts of charity make a big difference in their lives, even if it may seem small, it meant that there was someone there to offer aid, support, help. Although it may seem like one small act, you should remember, that every act is important because it affects the person you’re helping. Remember that every person you help has feelings too and, how much joy or ease you bring to their lives when you help them. I guess that’s why I help, I want to make a difference, and I want to affect people’s lives in a positive manner, even if it may bring a perceived inconvenience, I find that its better to help the person in need. Don’t donate to an organization where volunteers reach out for you, reach out with your very own hands.
From everything that is given,
Of the trust emplaced upon,
I cross the line once again,
Pushing you wayward.
Sometimes I find things ajar.
Broken glasses across the floor,
Scented candles lay beside me,
The wind rushing through my hair,
On my shirt there is a tear.
Wearing the past long torn.
Memories of times of lust,
Long since the dream’s bust.
Of the times I’ve felt guilty,
Fallen into a place,
Where you cannot follow me,
I close my eyes and pray.
Please let me stay.
-Calm
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
When I write
Where the words have fallen,
Of the thoughts left separated,
I hear her voice in my head,
The image replayed a thousand times.
The odds are stacked.
Faded into the shadows,
Memories of the dream,
Winds of fate had blown past,
Leaving a void so vast.
Hallowed dreams.
The importance is long forgotten,
Yet secondary to none,
I reach for the shadow,
Why have I lost it?
A troubled soul.
A being I had left sundered,
Dreams of which I had plundered,
Broken,
Ethereal.
Nobody sees her.
I reach my hand out,
To undo my faults,
To untie the knots,
To break the chains.
To set her free.
-Free
“Where we stand”
It was late, I had taken a ride from a friend who dropped me off at a place that was further from the destination that we started from. I felt slightly sore about the choice I had made about following his car, in a hope of getting home faster, and where I got off, had no bus to my place. So I had a good ten minutes walk to the bus stop that I needed to go to. I had just begun to discuss over the phone with my friend over some important topics.
Across the road there was a man in dark glasses walking with a stick, as I crossed it, I saw he was about to cross and he was rather hesitant, and so I asked him if he needed help. The man was blind.
Ending the conversation with my friend, I forgot about my bus, though there was a slight feeling of being late scratching at me, I knew that the man needed help, and I was there, and one should never wait for another person to help a person in need. Many people suffer from the inactions of others.
And so I stretched my arm forward when he reached out. And so he explained to me where he needed to go. He had to cross the road to take a bus, so I took him across to the bus stop, and just as I was about to leave him there after helping him, I saw him asking blindly at the bus stop for someone to help him with looking out for the bus. I saw the people at the stop simply stare at him, without uttering a single word, they simply look frightened. So I turned back to tell the people of his condition, and the bus he needed to take. Immediately, two girls agreed to help, I could see their uncertainty over the whole situation before I stepped in to tell them.
Most people don’t know how to react, and often they are often frozen in their actions. Leaving the man in their care, I proceeded to cross the road again, realizing that I had increased my walk from 10 minutes to fifteen. Despite the increase in the distance, I felt that I rather walk the fifteen than let the man suffer the danger of crossing the road since he was blind, and I shuddered to think that he was all alone, traveling around, in a world where people were often apprehensive and reluctant to help, he was willing to take a chance that there will be people to aid him.
As I walked to the bus stop, I thought about my helping the man, the short conversation we had, I had introduced myself, and the silliest thing I did was point at where we had to go, when he could not see. I felt stupid, but I realized that I was inexperienced with helping a blind person, and I could only imagine how stupid I looked when I talked to the blind man and pointed at things at the same time. Who was going to see but me and the rest of people? While the intended person could not.
His trust in me, was strong, as he gripped my arm firmly and followed my every step, not hesitating when I brought him along. It was quite a distance to take him, it was a pity I’d never get to know him any further. And would he remember me? I don’t think so, maybe he’ll remember someone helped him across the road to the bus stop, but will he recognize me? The voice of that person? I did give him my name, but then that was it, in the world we live in, despite how small it might be, is vast enough. I don’t think I’d every get a chance to know that person, to know more of his world. A world without vision, but heightened sense of hearing, taste and touch.
I wish I could have gotten his contact, and perhaps learn about his experiences. It is a world that I would never want to experience, but it’s something I’d like to learn more about, so that I might understand them better in order to help them more.
“Competition”
As the sun bore down on me, as I looked up at the sky, the heat warmed me greatly, the feeling of where I was, reminding me that there was much to do in my life, many plans still left incomplete. At the poolside, a friend asks me to race across to the other side. The challenge reminded me of when I was younger, when I would be the one challenging. Here I was, being challenged, and so off we went. I won that race, like many that I have done, but then again, there was always someone who was better, so most of the people I raced were not better to begin with. If it was a large competition with many competitors, I’d usually end up second.
Why second?
As I ask myself that question, and now that I write it out, I feel that I commit much of my mind to the task, but at the last moment, there would usually be a slight doubt, even if it was just for a split second, it often would cost me the win, and I end up second. I could say, I’m quite used to second place by now.
So when do I get first? Usually when the actual no.1 isn’t there. So every victory in that event or sport, when I am the first, I feel that it’s not worth the win because I never competed against the best.
If only there was never a sense of doubt. I know I can control my feelings a lot, and remain calm, but a small slight insecurity tends to creep up especially against an opponent who is stronger, many of which will never sense and I can still win, but those that do, capitalize on it, and those tend to be the ones who rise to the top.
Defeat your opponent not only through your strength, but also through his weakness. That’s how I compete, I analyze my opponents, or the people I compete with.
And there I was, after that race, on the other side of the pool, my friend wanted to race again, but I was tired, and I would rather reflect about what I was thinking about during that race. I was not thinking of winning it, which was I usually thought of most of the time during competitions, but rather about the past and how I was like then, so much went through my mind as I swam.
And for a while I realized the most important thing, the thing that causes the moment of doubt, when I was serious, I never really enjoyed what I was doing, and I’d become too critical of my actions, and others, thus when the slightest mistake occurs, it creates a snowball effect which I often can never get out of. I normally never let that happen, but against the best, its never smooth sailing, the true test I guess, is to get back from the losing end.
That’s something I’m very weak at. It’s easy to dominate an opponent, but to turn being dominated to becoming the winner is probably the hardest thing. Something I must learn, and not be over critical about what I do, and remember that I am not simply just there to win, but to enjoy myself, and do well.
And so here I sit, the evening after the race, thinking about my reflections and realizing more about how I live my life. It is important to see the direction I am headed, and not fall short of what I am doing. Enough of being second, in fact, its time to stop thinking of me ending up as second, and getting the task done.
Perhaps I have fallen short, but training myself to overcome a situation when the odds are stacked will make me much stronger. Of which I can apply to my life.
As I reach out to feel the silver wings,
I seek to fine out the divine plans,
Holding onto what is most precious,
Knowing that nothing more can be true.
Of the hope.
It is through her eyes I am seeing through,
A reflection of the time spent,
Having faith in the both of us,
For our choices in life are for two.
Life is so brittle.
So many paths to choose,
With so much left to lose,
Our fate is such a fragile thing,
Which needs special handling.
Of the things I’ve put you through.
-Silver wings.
Where the words have fallen,
Of the thoughts left separated,
I hear her voice in my head,
The image replayed a thousand times.
The odds are stacked.
Faded into the shadows,
Memories of the dream,
Winds of fate had blown past,
Leaving a void so vast.
Hallowed dreams.
The importance is long forgotten,
Yet secondary to none,
I reach for the shadow,
Why have I lost it?
A troubled soul.
A being I had left sundered,
Dreams of which I had plundered,
Broken,
Ethereal.
Nobody sees her.
I reach my hand out,
To undo my faults,
To untie the knots,
To break the chains.
To set her free.
-Free
“Where we stand”
It was late, I had taken a ride from a friend who dropped me off at a place that was further from the destination that we started from. I felt slightly sore about the choice I had made about following his car, in a hope of getting home faster, and where I got off, had no bus to my place. So I had a good ten minutes walk to the bus stop that I needed to go to. I had just begun to discuss over the phone with my friend over some important topics.
Across the road there was a man in dark glasses walking with a stick, as I crossed it, I saw he was about to cross and he was rather hesitant, and so I asked him if he needed help. The man was blind.
Ending the conversation with my friend, I forgot about my bus, though there was a slight feeling of being late scratching at me, I knew that the man needed help, and I was there, and one should never wait for another person to help a person in need. Many people suffer from the inactions of others.
And so I stretched my arm forward when he reached out. And so he explained to me where he needed to go. He had to cross the road to take a bus, so I took him across to the bus stop, and just as I was about to leave him there after helping him, I saw him asking blindly at the bus stop for someone to help him with looking out for the bus. I saw the people at the stop simply stare at him, without uttering a single word, they simply look frightened. So I turned back to tell the people of his condition, and the bus he needed to take. Immediately, two girls agreed to help, I could see their uncertainty over the whole situation before I stepped in to tell them.
Most people don’t know how to react, and often they are often frozen in their actions. Leaving the man in their care, I proceeded to cross the road again, realizing that I had increased my walk from 10 minutes to fifteen. Despite the increase in the distance, I felt that I rather walk the fifteen than let the man suffer the danger of crossing the road since he was blind, and I shuddered to think that he was all alone, traveling around, in a world where people were often apprehensive and reluctant to help, he was willing to take a chance that there will be people to aid him.
As I walked to the bus stop, I thought about my helping the man, the short conversation we had, I had introduced myself, and the silliest thing I did was point at where we had to go, when he could not see. I felt stupid, but I realized that I was inexperienced with helping a blind person, and I could only imagine how stupid I looked when I talked to the blind man and pointed at things at the same time. Who was going to see but me and the rest of people? While the intended person could not.
His trust in me, was strong, as he gripped my arm firmly and followed my every step, not hesitating when I brought him along. It was quite a distance to take him, it was a pity I’d never get to know him any further. And would he remember me? I don’t think so, maybe he’ll remember someone helped him across the road to the bus stop, but will he recognize me? The voice of that person? I did give him my name, but then that was it, in the world we live in, despite how small it might be, is vast enough. I don’t think I’d every get a chance to know that person, to know more of his world. A world without vision, but heightened sense of hearing, taste and touch.
I wish I could have gotten his contact, and perhaps learn about his experiences. It is a world that I would never want to experience, but it’s something I’d like to learn more about, so that I might understand them better in order to help them more.
“Competition”
As the sun bore down on me, as I looked up at the sky, the heat warmed me greatly, the feeling of where I was, reminding me that there was much to do in my life, many plans still left incomplete. At the poolside, a friend asks me to race across to the other side. The challenge reminded me of when I was younger, when I would be the one challenging. Here I was, being challenged, and so off we went. I won that race, like many that I have done, but then again, there was always someone who was better, so most of the people I raced were not better to begin with. If it was a large competition with many competitors, I’d usually end up second.
Why second?
As I ask myself that question, and now that I write it out, I feel that I commit much of my mind to the task, but at the last moment, there would usually be a slight doubt, even if it was just for a split second, it often would cost me the win, and I end up second. I could say, I’m quite used to second place by now.
So when do I get first? Usually when the actual no.1 isn’t there. So every victory in that event or sport, when I am the first, I feel that it’s not worth the win because I never competed against the best.
If only there was never a sense of doubt. I know I can control my feelings a lot, and remain calm, but a small slight insecurity tends to creep up especially against an opponent who is stronger, many of which will never sense and I can still win, but those that do, capitalize on it, and those tend to be the ones who rise to the top.
Defeat your opponent not only through your strength, but also through his weakness. That’s how I compete, I analyze my opponents, or the people I compete with.
And there I was, after that race, on the other side of the pool, my friend wanted to race again, but I was tired, and I would rather reflect about what I was thinking about during that race. I was not thinking of winning it, which was I usually thought of most of the time during competitions, but rather about the past and how I was like then, so much went through my mind as I swam.
And for a while I realized the most important thing, the thing that causes the moment of doubt, when I was serious, I never really enjoyed what I was doing, and I’d become too critical of my actions, and others, thus when the slightest mistake occurs, it creates a snowball effect which I often can never get out of. I normally never let that happen, but against the best, its never smooth sailing, the true test I guess, is to get back from the losing end.
That’s something I’m very weak at. It’s easy to dominate an opponent, but to turn being dominated to becoming the winner is probably the hardest thing. Something I must learn, and not be over critical about what I do, and remember that I am not simply just there to win, but to enjoy myself, and do well.
And so here I sit, the evening after the race, thinking about my reflections and realizing more about how I live my life. It is important to see the direction I am headed, and not fall short of what I am doing. Enough of being second, in fact, its time to stop thinking of me ending up as second, and getting the task done.
Perhaps I have fallen short, but training myself to overcome a situation when the odds are stacked will make me much stronger. Of which I can apply to my life.
As I reach out to feel the silver wings,
I seek to fine out the divine plans,
Holding onto what is most precious,
Knowing that nothing more can be true.
Of the hope.
It is through her eyes I am seeing through,
A reflection of the time spent,
Having faith in the both of us,
For our choices in life are for two.
Life is so brittle.
So many paths to choose,
With so much left to lose,
Our fate is such a fragile thing,
Which needs special handling.
Of the things I’ve put you through.
-Silver wings.
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