Words Spoken Like A Mad Man

Henry David Thoreau

2012-02-03T17:27:00.002+08:00

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Creation

2012-01-14T09:35:00.003+08:00

http://www.raptitude.com/2012/01/natures-finest-gift-to-you/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+Raptitudecom+%28Raptitude.com%29

sickly 2

2012-01-08T22:53:00.002+08:00

forgive my temper
i am on trepidatious rocks
scaling the lines of discomfort
and of indescribable anguish
waging war on an enemy
that knows no boundaries
I suffer alone
and in silence
For the cure that is time
to rid me of this adversary

so forgive my temper
or what I may utter
I will be better

Sickly

2012-01-08T22:18:00.002+08:00

pale as the brightest light
sick as the ailing sun
let bright joy return
and disease undone

Oh how I pander

2012-01-06T20:09:00.002+08:00

oH shush
and spare me the pretense.
you hold me in sight
only for old times.
you don't even bother
to remember my words
or how i've been.
please,
spare me already
i cannot take any more:
all the smallish talk
and the false concern
oh how i pander to you and your emotions
for fear that you would crack,
and that you would collapse
under the reality
of my elaborate
stage play.

Ernest

Island of green

2011-12-31T23:29:00.002+08:00

Island of green

stuck on the shores;
an island of green
a bustling utopia
of miniscule chatter
shackled discreetly
blatantly bound
by shades of green
never to know
what it is like
to live with red and blue
amongst the beaches
and the brilliant lights
that colour the sky
well in that case
save some green for me
so that i may fly
see the sights that i may not
see upon the shores
of the island of green

~Ernest

I will

2011-12-31T23:16:00.002+08:00

I will

do not siphon my soul
before my time
do not carve my name in stone
or speak false praises
I have not lived
merely wandered
with the whims and winds
for my sake
do not brand me with fire
or cage my bones
I have not lived
But I will

~Ernest

Nothing

2011-12-31T22:53:00.000+08:00

what is there when there is nothing
nothing to cuddle
nothing to think
nothing to feel
what is there to live at all
when nothing overcomes
and you succumb
what is there when you fail to breathe
when you fail to find
that last gasp of air you so desire
what is there laying upon the mounds of garbage
when all you see is your reflection
dead
cold
amongst the shards
of
nothing

The victor

2011-11-11T22:58:00.000+08:00

The victor

A constant bickering
incessant
loud

An epic battle
on the plains
bare

I the commander
demand now
Action!

Orders shouted
carried out
swift

They reveal; conceal
my frail will
torn

Yet death is won
still bodies
rest

gone
my frail will
upon blood red sand

~Ernest

An artist

2011-09-06T11:23:00.001+08:00

The Glass Sculptor

2011-09-03T11:32:00.002+08:00

The wrinkled old man looked like he had never stopped working since the day he was born. Now sitting by the roadside with his makeshift push cart, at the age of sixty, the creased lines of his face welded together, emphasizing the intense nature of the work he was born to do. His ambidextrous hands moved with precision and ease. One hand holding the blowing torch that burned at one thousand degrees. The other twisting and shaping the piece of glass into works of bona fide art. Intricate dragon scales, detailed flower petals with accompanying shades of bright, cheerful colours. As if the glass were a reflection of his inner strength and affable disposition. Needless to say, the street was captivated. There was something in his purposeful hands and in the way he derived pleasure from using them. It showed in the way he smiled, the way he tilts his head to look at the fresh piece of glass. A bliss seldom seen on the faces of the people he sculpts his work for. He is tireless. The sun will set before he even notices that the streets have cleared and he, a wrinkled old glass sculptor, will regrettably pack up and push his cart home.

~Ernest

A Glance

2011-09-01T20:33:00.003+08:00

She turned to look at me
All it took was a glance
For me to fall madly in love
Her eyes searched and in my heart they sought
My heart an open book
She had but a hint of a smile
As though she understood
My plight, my needs, my loves
I glanced back
Proper
Understanding
In pain
Oh how I wish I had more than a glance
Before the elevator doors close
And yet
A glance was all I got
Could it be?
Could we be?
In a different time
A different place.
Would we?
Could we?
Fall in love
Once more

~Ernest

The button pusher

2011-08-26T12:53:00.000+08:00

She seemed indifferent to everything around her. Not even when a baby's high pitched wail shot through the train carriage. Not when people bumped into her. It was that same indifference that made people dislike her the moment they looked at her. You could see however, that she didn't notice or if she did, would not care at all. Her brisk walk showed an efficiency so precise that she never took a different route to reach home. Always the shortest and the fastest. And be warned if you get in her way. You'll be treated like western swinging doors without so much as an apology. Regulars didn't much care for her. They got out of her way. They knew as much. Despite her contemptible behaviour, there was relief for the commuters. The only chink in her dispassionate coat of armour. To the commuters who have felt injustice, the traffic light was a shining beacon of hope that served as an altar to justice served. For it was at the traffic light that commuters caught up and she would be forced to wait for the green man. It is here that she displays this uncharacteristic compulsion to push the traffic button repeatedly. To the commuters who didn't know her, she looked like a fish out of water. Pushing the button as if her life depended on it. To the commuters who were victims of her rampage, it was retribution of the tallest order.

Now every time the commuters find offense in the world, they know that somewhere out there a certain 'traffic light' is serving the cold dish of justice.

~Ernest

The man with a tie

2011-08-21T10:14:00.002+08:00

He seemed at odds with the world. The way he stood lazily, staring straight above him to the branches of the trees. Maybe it was the fact that he stood right smack in the middle of a park sporting a blazer, work shoes and the way that his tie was pulled up to the collar with a crisp and sharp perfection; in direct contrast with the mellow nature that surrounded him. On closer inspection, you realize that it was not his attire that gave him away. No. It was more than that. It was in the way he stood, arms hanging loosely by his side without even a hint of the formality that his attire stood for. It was in the way he followed the movements of the branches, swaying with the wind, as if he were a part of the tree. It was in the way his eyes were open with such unabashed rapture that his lips curled up in a sort of unconscious blissful contentment. One look at him and you feel a sense of obscenity, as if your presence there with him was immoral and vulgar. One look at him and you feel as if he belonged there and the park was just visiting. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing. Blending with the world he sought to conquer. Blending with the world that was just visiting.

~Ernest

Noble intentions

2011-08-19T22:01:00.000+08:00

I paused. I stopped. I thought it would amuse me.

I listened to the way he spoke. The content did not matter as do most conversations. It was in the way he said it. With such unquestioning conviction that I was swayed, for a moment. I paused once more.

I had thought I would leave before I was told what I've heard many times before. I was pleasantly surprised to hear a new point of view. He flipped to show me the presentation he was told to recite. And yet it was not a recital, more like a plea to reason and a sense of misplaced self-righteousness. But who was I to judge?

I paused once more. He really got me there, with his genuine belief and unwavering faith. He wasn't in denial. He was convinced. It made me stay, to listen. He went on. About the truth, the light, the way. I liked the way he spoke. Kindly, soft, reverent, not a touch of arrogance to be found. It has been a long time since I opened my mind to such revelations, although there still was a skeptic in me. He reminded me of what it was to believe in something without question, without needless despair and was not based on pre-conceived notions.

Then he did a 180. Up till now, his sincerity was what kept me rooted, listening. He had to say it.

'How do you know if this is true?'
'Because someone told me.'

I was saddened. There are many things I find to be of real cause for concern. One of them is not thinking for yourself. We can only know the world through what we see, feel, hear, taste and listen. We can think. So at any point in time, you should never accept what another says is the truth. For the truth can only be experienced and known through yourself. A guiding post might lead you in the right direction. But never claim another's truth for your own. Do not be blinded to follow for fear of death and wrath.

Because who are we if not what we think, feel(emotions) and experience?

Thanks. But no thanks.

Friendly Discourse

2011-07-18T17:46:00.000+08:00

I need some friendly discourse. Discourse can only be friendly without bias nor pre-conceived notions and personal beliefs. (or really really good friends)

Life is boring without a little conflict now and then. Especially new points of view that challenge conventional thought.

Time is a strange thing. It has no form. No tangible nature. Yet we treat time as if it is real. But what is real?

Writing has a way of soothing the mind. It focuses thoughts and grounds them in language and structure. And when it is written, the mind calms and the thoughts just move on to other things.

Sleep comes easily to those who live. Dreams come easily to those who worry.

Maturity is society's way of criminalizing creativity. Grow up they say! I say dig down.

Simplicity is too tough for us complicated people.

Say sorry to the bugs you kill, the birds you scare, the cats you boo.

Words don't do well enough to convey emotion or intonation across the web. Miscommunication happens fairly often. Furthermore, our language is insufficient as a means of communication. Words are loosely used. Unspecific and never precise. Words therefore should only be used when both parties understand the context of the words, the background and opinion from which they are speaking and the exact definition of the word agreed on by both parties.

Impractical? It certainly is.

A series of random thought processes. And quotable quotes from yours truly.

The ugly truth

2011-07-18T10:11:00.001+08:00

The ugly truth

people just happen to be
hankering around to be seen
beautiful or not
people just happen to be

and yet the 'beautiful' roll in pits of shit
drowning in their urine
those who have lost and not let go
have continued to suffer

the justice then is that the 'ugly' live in mansions
in penthouses high atop the world
looking down with great scorn
at how much more money they could have earned

the beauty then is not in their hearts
but in yours
see the beauty in their struggle to live
see how they try

traverse both lines and you will understand
that beauty lies not in the material world
but the ugly truth that dwells inside
the truth of all our beauty
is the ugly within ourselves
for you can never know another's beauty
until you find your own

~Ernest

On another note. Everything we do is through our own experiences. We cannot experience what another person is going through. We can try but we will fail completely. So if we understand the ugliness, the despondent, the perverse in ourselves then we will know how ugly and how potentially beautiful we can be. Only then will we know the potential in others.

The immediacy of the moment

2011-07-18T09:15:00.002+08:00

The immediacy of the moment

How do you define a moment?
By the event that is happening?
Maybe in internationally recognised time standards?
Or by its indivisible measure of time?

To me the moment is no more than a wisp of imaginary smoke. You try to hold on to something but it's not really there. The moment you're in a moment, the next moment happens and you're no longer in the moment you once were.

You can't stay there. You only move from one moment to the next regardless of whether you experienced it and with this you are stuck in this constant state of change. A new moment presents new opportunities. New decisions to be made. New cells replacing the old and it all never stops. At least, it never stops for you.

And death in this case, never stops. At least not for you.

How to escape death then?

The way to transcend so to speak is to escape the confines of the moment. Where each moment is dictated by you and not by unconscious change.

There are four ways...

Slaves

2011-07-09T16:18:00.000+08:00

what is slavery?

Slavery is choice
A slave is not born from authority
Nor from evil befallen
A slave chooses slavery
He allows himself to be battered
Tortured and tormented
Hurt, insulted and humiliated
Why then would so many choose?

Because then they wouldn't have to think
Wouldn't have to take responsibility
Wouldn't need to face reality
All they're doing is following orders
No matter good or bad

They think they are bound
Strapped down
But if only they could see
Their boundless freedom

And so
Every once in awhile
A man awakes
He sees that he chooses
He sees that he obligates himself
He sees that he is in fact
Unchained

This man will rise
Even if for only a moment
His choices will truly be his
And he will escape
Sometimes with others
Sometimes very much alone

Slavery would have been to him
An experience
An experiment
A glimpse into the world's world
To learn of sleep
And to awaken from it

This man is truly free

Crossroads

2011-07-03T21:13:00.000+08:00

CROSSROADS

Once more we're standing at the crossroads
In between somewhere and somewhere else
Yet even after all these years
We're still friends

It is amazing how you've changed
You're coming into yourself
You've come to know your place in this chaotic world
And knowing you, your sights will never waver
Your resolve will never be torn
How much I admire that drive

Even more so your diligence
In all that you do
Your efforts show
And the results
A testament

You truly are blessed
(If you don't mind me using the terminology)
Loyal friends surround you
Familial bliss and peace
Loves and loved by

So when I recite these verses
I toast with glass raised high
A friendship to treasure
In celebration of your birth

Standing at the crossroads
You will walk your path
and me, mine
But hope is instilled in me
Our paths will cross
With many days to pass

Happy 20th Birthday!

The guy who writes cheesy poetry much

Knowledge

2011-06-13T23:05:00.002+08:00

I am searching for something specific. Something unattainable to some within their lives. Perhaps even mine. But I am hopeful.

I am searching for truth.

Not the trivial truths of the common man. Truths like money is might. Truths like breathe, eat, shit, work, sleep, die.

I am speaking of an undying, everlasting truth. A truth that we should all strive for because it is good and pure and natural.

A truth that binds us all together. A truth that unites both angels and the demons that stand on your shoulders.

There are many pathways to it. But one thing is certain. The process is the goal and the goal is the process. All you have to do is reach it.

Now...I speak of something I know little of. Why now, do you ask, that I am not already on the process. It is a process that rips apart all you ever are and ever will be. It is a process of self-discovery. For what are we really afraid of? We are in essence afraid within and of ourselves.

I need to find the strength to begin.

And begin I shall...soon...

Tennis

2011-06-07T11:53:00.001+08:00

We all like heroes. Role models whom which we can shape the course of our lives. Even if the end result is but a pale shadow of our heroes. So while we're on this topic, let's talk about Asian pride.

Well it started with a radio broadcast of a tennis match finals between Li Na and Schiavone. Li Na was leading 4-2. Believe me when I say, sports have never interested me in the least much less tennis. ( Conventional sports at least. I like to follow extreme sports, like bouldering, skateboarding, snowboarding, para-skiing...)
So anyway, after listening for quite a bit, I came to know that if Li Na won, she would be the first Chinese ever to win this title. Ok. So what was it to me? She was winning. All she needed to do was win two more sets. 6 being the winning set. Then the tide changed. She lost 1 set after another making it a tie. This is starting to get exciting.

As the game proceeded, I felt myself, unconsciously at first, rooting for Li Na. Who doesn't love success stories? First man on the moon. First man to break the 9.7s barrier for the 100m. We all like success stories. Makes the world seem more fair in a way. Its like the world is telling us, 'You can do it too.'

And towards the end when it all came down to a tie breaker. My mind was set. I had chosen a side. I wanted Li Na to win. But not because it would make a better success story but because she was Chinese.

Well now, I stopped myself there. What was it that brought up this feeling of pride for someone I didn't know until thirty minutes before. What was it that made me support the Chinese and not the Italian?

THEORISING...
It might have stemmed from a part of ourselves that was favoured by evolution. In groups we moved from place to place during our nomadic phase. Wary of other groups as we met them because they were not known to ourselves and if harm might befall the family. Anything different is dangerous.

Or might it have stemmed from our need to belong. I'm sure we all have felt that need to support or that search to seem bigger than ourselves. As if we are a whole and not individuals.

In this case pride can work two ways.
1. It can segregate
2. It can unite

'Like how soccer fans fight each other in the stadiums.'
'Like how whole countries stop to support their team in the world cup.'

We should all see from different point of views. However, we should learn to see the similarities and not the differences.

So on that note. Li Na won. I'm pleasantly happy. I doubt my Asian/Chinese/Singaporean pride will wane. We are small, plenty, and 'yellow'. And may we appear yet again on the world stage.

Semantics and related revelations

2011-06-04T11:26:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I surprise myself when I write words that I do not know the meaning to. However upon writing the word, I know within the context of what I am writing, the word's usage is correct. Surprises me how the unconscious mind derives meaning of words form the relationship of the word in question to the other words that surround it. Relative meaning derived from word relationships.

Meaning is so flexible. So loose. It works conventionally. However for us to understand something beyond our current state of minds, we need a new set of words to describe the process of experiencing first hand, inner knowledge.

For words exist only by virtue of the sounds that made them ~ ernest

Above

2011-05-30T21:55:00.001+08:00

In the darkness that suffocates
A glint of hope shines
Like a lighthouse in the storm
The ethereal guide from above

Its passionate embrace highlights the tips of trees
Trickling like water through the canopy
Casting shadows harsh but comforting

I have never seen the moon so bright
Technology scattering from its might
Forgive our arrogance for we have sinned

Ernest

As we go on...

2011-05-28T01:10:00.000+08:00

It is nearly the end of graduation week. I can't help but feel a distinct taste of sadness in the air. Friends come and go as everyone moves on with their lives. Some with plans for further studies. Others just idly waiting (I'm one of them). We all have our own stories to create. A future to forge. And like how happy endings end, there is a sadness hanging in the air. The people you have came to know will soon keep you not on their phones but in their hearts. Maybe someday you might chance upon them, but by then things would have changed and the times spent together but a distant recollection. So I would like to take this time to say Thank You to those who have come into my life and made it one worth living. I always say, what you remember of a place is not its dusty recesses, nor its beautifully tiled floors or in this case checkered carpeting. It is the people whom you've met there that you'll remember, no matter how vaguely.

So As we go on. May we lift our heads and extend our hands the next time we meet.

Cheerfully,
Ernest

Age

2011-05-27T12:51:00.000+08:00

A confusing predicament has tormented me recently.
I have lost track of how old I am.

When I was doing a survey.
When I was drafting my resume.
I couldn't remember how old I was/am.
Is it any wonder? The past years my birthday wasn't celebrated conventionally.
It was hidden in a veil of current circumstance and active prevention of unnecessary superficial greetings and frauds.
No gifts. No loud boisterous festivities nor gatherings. They were spent in quiet solitude and hopeless longing.
It was in part of the choices I made and the route I chose.
What comes out of all this was not unhappiness on my part. In fact I was silently appreciative. It gave me time to think, reflect on the importance of the day which, as I have come to realise, has no intrinsic meaning nor worth. It is as they say 'all in the mind'.

Months down the road since my last birthday and now I feel a surprising hollowness. Perhaps since young we were conditioned to feel our age as we grew. And celebrations of our age reminded us of how old we are. And since I declined to be aged, I have forgotten how old I am, let alone how to behave at my age. I only feel a growth in mind and body. Yet no recollection of how old I am supposed to be permeates that growth. It is a befuddling conundrum. What then, I guess they say is right. 'You are only as old as you feel'. And to that extent, I am old enough.

Vertigo

2011-05-23T16:56:00.002+08:00

Anne Stevenson 1933

Mind led body
to the edge of the precipice.
They stared in desire
at the naked abyss.
If you love me, said mind,
take that step into silence.
If you love me, said body,
turn and exist.

End of the world

2011-05-21T00:08:00.000+08:00

If tomorrow the world ends, I humbly bid all Christians a good life in Heaven.
If it doesn't, well we'll talk again about the End shall we?

Promises promises

2011-05-20T12:21:00.002+08:00

~~Promises prom~~ises

A promise is like jumping into the unknown
You assure someone that you will get something done regardless of future considerations
And breaking that promise is like a dead frog
After jumping into the water you realise that the water is polluted
So you die
You break your promise
Without so much as a will or last words
You leave it at that
And the person struggling to keep his end of the bargain waits in the bushes until he realises that you have 'accidentally' caused your own demise
No one will ever trust you again
For you can't trust the dead can you?

You could have croaked a reply
Said goodbye
But of course your life is most important
Like how his life is unimportant comparatively

And so he waits anxiously
Harbouring a hope of a promise kept
Just a croak or two would suffice
But no
Concern turns to anger
Anger turns to spite
Spite turns to fear
Fear turns to death
And death says hi

He would have to jump into the water too
For you see he has made a promise too
Little did he know the water is...

Pictures of the week

2011-04-24T15:26:00.000+08:00

Some other revelations

2011-04-13T21:57:00.000+08:00

Last week I walked from Simei mrt station back home. Today I walked from bedok. Next week Eunos?

I cannot conceive of 'me' if there is no one else to conceive it for me.
If there is no one to determine me, then I don't exist. So how do I determine myself?

I've been trying to ground my senses. It appears that I can only think when I'm alone. When I'm with people I just go through the motions. It is only when I there is no current external stimulus, when there are no distractions and there is only me, I think.

I've also realised from walking. That understanding something(event,action) doesn't change what it is. For example. Knowing why someone punch you doesn't make the fact that he punched you any less real. The reason behind an action or event doesn't change what the event or action is. So what if we understand the reason why? What is grounded in reality is what is. And what is is that he punched you.

Another day of documenting my thoughts...

Photos of the week

2011-04-10T16:36:00.000+08:00

Photos of the week.

Tar and Cement

2011-04-08T19:30:00.002+08:00

For people who have lived before Singapore's age of transformation...

Perhaps its time to go back.

Space

2011-04-06T18:34:00.001+08:00

There is one fundamental similarity that we and all living and non-living things share. We occupy space. Or what we know as space anyway. Everywhere you walk you're just displacing things and occupying that space. How's that for a perspective change?

If what we are is just simply space, then what significance does life or love hold? Mere constructs that arise from space. So what is space? Is space nothing?

What else do we share in common? Besides our constituent particles on the sub-atomic level?

Walking does you good. Just notice that you're walking. Notice the people around you. Do not let the world pass you by.

Pictures of the week

2011-04-03T17:22:00.004+08:00

Here's the link to my flickr photostream. Expect more updates soon.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/windstruckescape/

Enjoy.

Taxi Driver 2

2011-03-30T12:58:00.001+08:00

Janis Joplin got it right when she sang, "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free"

Well anyway. Back to the taxi driver.

As quickly as he started he changed topics. This was where he triumphed in analogy.

He said: 'Listen, listen. You know birds have feathers."
Politely I reply: 'Yeah.'
'But why chicken and ostrich can't fly?' He pauses momentarily before continuing. 'Because they have weight,' using his right hand to bang on the taxi's dashboard.

'You know what's the weight? Liabilities. Reduce liabilities. Don't get credit cards. Don't go into debt. Use only what you need and forget the rest.'
Once more he bangs on the dashboard.

For some reason I felt like he was trying to force me to learn a lesson that seemed important to him that I learn.

'They hold you back. Don't ever get trapped. Don't carry the weight.'

I nod in understanding.

I know of debt. I know of spending in excess. I know of money hard-earned. I know of easy money. I know of money and it is itself a liability if not put to use.

I am fortunate to have bordered on that line. To know a good life and a bad one.

Bertrand Russell 2

2011-03-28T23:04:00.001+08:00

I must be hearing things. The insight and lessons of life a taxi driver gave me are similar to the essay written by Bertrand Russell in 1932.

This is how I find truth I guess. By asking the questions that matter. To me anyway.

Let's begin by examining the premise of the essay "In Praise of Idleness".
Bertrand Russell espouses that there should be no reason to overwork given our current methods of production and more time should be dedicated to idleness.

The taxi driver talked about all the ferrari's on the road today. (In response to my 'singapore cannot make it' comment)
He says that people should think positively and with a positive attitude, anyone can make it. BUT (he pointed out to the hawker center)
"Look at all those people. Working day in day out. Work so hard just to survive. Don't be like them."

At this point I was a bit confused.

I replied: "Don't work at all?"
"YES!"
He continues excitedly: "Let money make money."

I answered with a slightly 'cheeky' comment to throw him off.

"Like using the internet."
Once more: "YES!"
"BUT," he emphasizes.
"Use the internet with intellect"
He starts laughing.

I on the other hand found it quite amusing that he managed to think of a rhyming lesson on the spot. Internet with intellect. Awesome.

Bear with me. Here is the part where it is similar to what Bertrand Russell wrote.

"You see all those employers. Make people work so hard. And in the end, the employers who don't do much, make the most money."

Throughout the essay, he praised what modern production methods have achieved. In one of the examples, he explains succinctly how we can allow people to work for less and earn the same. Example: For the production of 100 pins you currently employ 100 workers who work 8 hours a day. With the machines you can make 50 pins in 8 hours. The workers can then work 4 hours a day while they get paid the same. However, the reality is, people who can afford to buy more machines buy more machines and make surplus pins when all people need is 100 pins. So in this way as surplus goes up, companies working in the same line fight for the limited amount of business and companies who can't afford to fight close down and declare bankrupt.

What Bertrand Russell suggests might seem a little idealistic but as far as theory goes, it makes logical stand. People can work less and still be paid the same if profit wasn't the only motive. Which links back to the benevolence post.

So indeed. We should all strive for a 4 hour work day. And still be able to survive with whatever we have made. People would have time for science. For family. For contemplative reflection. For reading. For fun. And God knows some fun is needed in our lives. We are all too serious.

It looks like the post is getting a tad too long. I'm going to bring the taxi driver back in the next post.

Till next time.

Pictures of the week

2011-03-27T15:27:00.001+08:00

I'm going to commit to at least 5 pictures a week. A sort of promise to myself.

Enjoy.

Click to enlarge.

Salamander at macritchie reservoir

The long trek

The view from the top of the spiderweb

Pasir Ris Park at Sunset

Boat at Sunset

Bertrand Russell 1

2011-03-24T22:21:00.002+08:00

Reading his essays now. His writings are so elegant. Simple yet strikingly concise.

I'll be doing a series of posts attempting to find meaning from the values he espouses and how it is relevant even today.

"an element of benevolence is essential even here(progress in medical knowledge) if any but the rich are to profit by scientific discoveries" Bertrand Russell, The Good Life.

According to my research this was written in 1925.

Imagine 86 years ago, the situation was like it is today. Medical equipment, pharmaceuticals, even wards cater to the people who can afford it. And the people who can't can only pray that some kind soul would provide some form of medical care for them.

Drugs take years to get on the market because of patents and intellectual property. For all we know Cancer can already be cured by some miracle drug that was developed 10 years ago. Only that the cost of current cancer treatments is so exorbitantly high that it would be crippling to the medical industry if they were to lose chemotherapy as their main source of income. (This is merely a probable outcome. It might not be true. Although the cost of anything related to medicine is real. CANCER IS EXPENSIVE. A full body MRI costs $3766. A CT scan costs $4000. That doesn't include the wards, doctor's, nurses fees, medication and tests. And so the view that the medical industry will suffer if a miracle treatment comes about is very real. Money has become the motive for saving lives.)

Where is that element of benevolence that he fought for? From the looks of it, in the banks of MNCs and pharmaceutical companies.

Some people can't AFFORD to get sick. Dying is so much easier.

Sickness is a business. Don't deal with it in the first place. Live healthy. Exercise(I need to commit to it) Eat well. Live well.

Face a book

2011-03-21T21:26:00.002+08:00

Oh I really do care about you. HOWEVER,
I do not LIKE to comment on anything.
I do not LIKE to indulge in your mindless chatter.
I do not LIKE to give you the attention you so sorely crave.
Most of all I do not LIKE your poorly constructed, mind numbingly embarrassing rear shot of you.
Please I beg of you. Could you lay off the English Language?
It should be criminal the way you taint and perversely violate all your tenses and spelling.
Keep the introspection to yourself.
Your thoughts are not as interesting as you think they are.
Do you even think?
Oh how you blatantly disclose your every move, current location and contact information.
Your life story on a WALL. Pathetic really. If your life could fit on a WALL.
It must excite you somehow.
Coming back day after day, hour after hour.
Minute after minute on your mobile phone.
Just to feel self-important looking at all the joyous festivities and EVENTS that suggests at a fulfilled life.
And furthermore you think your day is complete after reading the NEWS FEED.
Read a real NEWS FEED for the love of Currentaffairs.
The real world is not lived from learning what your 'friends' think.
And NO. I do not care how many 'friends' you have.
On second thought, I think I really do not care about you.
The food you eat bores even the most boring of sloths.
The pictures you take of food on the other hand, triumphs even that.
Your mediocre randomness never fails to astound even me, who thinks highly of mediocrity.
Your banal sense of humour, your irrelevant comparisons of your oh so wonderful life to hogwash celebs could make even the greatest of comedians spin in their graves.
And so I linger at arm's length away from my computer reading your every whim and your oh so 'witty' quotes of the day.
Hoping that one day you will forcefully jerk up from your sleep and see the atrocious injustice you've paraded to all your friends who blindly succumb to your trivial wants.
Please I beg of you.
Take your face and betray it to real books.
Take your face off Facebook.
~Ernest

For someone to have written that prose they would have had to be intimately familiar with the workings of its subject. Ironic isn't it? How contempt towards inanimate things can be nurtured through superficial intimacy.

Mannn I love irony.

Rock & Roll

2011-03-15T21:18:00.002+08:00

The climb

2011-03-11T21:58:00.001+08:00

I climbed to the top of the spiderweb today. The first time I managed to. If I can do that, I can do anything. Wait.
I already know that...

I'll bring my camera up next time. Show you the view.
(Whoever You are)

My future must be pretty spectacular. Whatever it may be.

ANYWAY...

More revelations. I've realised that I am unconsciously treating wikipedia as a source for good reliable information even though I know the content is half truths at best. However, they do indicate one thing. Your success at popularity.(or rather how famous you are) Was kinda looking for a word that could replace 'infamy'. Apparently no such word exists or rather, no such 'cheem' word, as I am told exists.(I should totally replace 'cheem' with something else. Something like 'profound'. Or 'precise'. Or as I found out. Sapient=Adj. attempting to appear wise.)
Let's try again.
No such abstruse word exists. Ahhh...Gotcha.

So...I vow one day to have my own wiki page. Not written by me in haste to gain any form of gratification nor superficial fame. It will be written by someone else. Who does something else.
(I am sanguine about the prospect)

On to more cheerful revelations. Reading Catch-22 now by Joseph Heller. A book about the absurdities of war recollected in a fairly comical fashion. War is indeed absurd. Just find out what Catch-22 is. The book itself is a Catch-22. How he managed to pull it off is beyond my comprehension. It is brilliant because it makes no sense. But as it is making no sense, it tells a story that makes perfect sense. That is why it is brilliant. See what I did there. I did a Catch-22.(I think)

In any case, this novel gave rise to a logical conundrum. And is now officially known as a Catch-22. How proud he must have been when his novel's title became part of the english language. Someday...

I kinda dozed off there. Dreams must be dreamt for dreams to be dreamt.

On a side note. Watched a documentary about War Photography. FUN FACT! War photographers who die are usually the ones who are on their first mission and don't know shit about how to survive and those who have been to many wars and survived and now think they can survive anything. Is that a Catch-22? You tell me.

Let me give you some instructions. "You can only read my blog if I don't update."

If I update, you can't read my blog. But if I don't update then you can read it. But if I don't update, what is there to read? AHHHHHH...Got it? Got it.

It knows that it is what it is

The music in the trees

2011-03-10T12:03:00.003+08:00

The sound of the wind crashing into the palm leaves is exquisite
An instrument beyond the description of words and notes
Standing under the ensemble cast, the cacophony of sound amazes the senses
It is not quite a rustle, yet not quite a rush
It is not quite a crackle, yet not quite a whisper
Listen for its crescendo

Visit the beach. It'll do you some good.

=

2011-03-09T19:53:00.002+08:00

By God's unwilling creation
He gave rise to His unwillingly equal
The devil

~Ernest

Attachment

2011-03-09T10:45:00.001+08:00

Attachment

Do not grasp so helplessly at the air
There is nothing, save to let oneself fall
Into the hungry abyss, Almighty!
Hail! As barbarous beast sunders and tears
Ripping heart and mind's thinly veiled blindfold
To behold fear as a friend; valiantly
To gaze upon kindly face of despair
To glimpse where all pervading pain resides
Let it be known that this is no nightmare
Merely the descent to freedom described
By ancient texts and enlightened prophets
Through One's awakening within nowhere
Death reveals truth, Life supplies the bullet
So grasp no more at illusory air

~Ernest

Almost there

2011-03-05T11:30:00.001+08:00

"The truth is that your daily life is but a thin strip of experience
barely seeming in the profundity of who you are at depth.
Your activities and relationships never capture the grandeur
that wants to unfold from your heart into the world.
There may be moments of palpable glory,
brief openings through which magnificence effulgence without curtail,
but mainly your life is a tragic almost-there
of unfulfilled longing and partial gestures of tense effort."
- David Deida

What are words?

2011-03-03T00:12:00.001+08:00

What are words if you don't mean them?

Date a girl who reads

2011-03-01T11:31:00.000+08:00

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."
— Rosemary Urquico

Measured Words

2011-02-28T23:05:00.000+08:00

Measure

How do you measure the green of the grass
The comfort of the wind
The wrongness of sin?

How do you measure colours of music
The intense shades of pain
The embrace of rain?

How do you measure the texture of love
The caress of a stare
A lover's tender care?

~Ernest

Our experiences are measured in feelings. But are we truly experiencing the world for what it is? Most times we approach a new experience with pre-conceived notions of 'what it is going to be'. However, to truly experience the world around you, every experience is a learning experience. We have to get rid of the ideas of the way things are supposed to be. Rather experience for what it is. Simple and without connotations. Our feelings will then merely reflect the experience and not control its outcome. Am I making sense? I'm trying to...

Bloodied

2011-02-28T11:45:00.001+08:00

Humiliation

A blind man stabbed in the open
A spectacle for all to see
Each dog taking their turn
Gnawing with unabashed glee
They don't see the wrong they've done
They know not of their sinful deed
They don't see as the blind man sees
Of pain and death and greed
Stripped, he lay bare upon the bloodied sands
Death arrived with open arms
Welcome, long lost friend

~Ernest

Screaming

2011-02-28T00:02:00.000+08:00

I used to write poetry excessively. When I was inspired by all that went on around me. From the birds and the trees, to love and pain. Days past and the words grew dull. The words I wrote felt like they had no meaning. The pain was gone, so was the love. The birds and trees remained only as a reminder of the beauty that was screamed into poetry. It was never a way to express myself. It was in essence a form of screaming words incessantly till someone got the point. Someone who understood My point. I scream out these poems. Hiding messages in them. Sometimes blatantly. Other times, to be heard. Now there is nothing to scream about. The words don't form themselves. The words can find no meaning. I am for this moment in time, silenced.

Student of the world

2011-02-26T10:54:00.002+08:00

I am a student of the world. Teach me all that you can teach me.

Awoken

2011-02-21T09:42:00.000+08:00

Alarm clocks shock you awake. Your body doesn't like to be shocked awake.

Surprisingly, even in this Urban Jungle, I can still awake to the sound of birds singing.

Pleasing...

The ghouls of the night

2011-02-16T21:48:00.001+08:00

Read this only when night time graces you and you are lit by the light of your computer.

Imagine for a moment you live in a 2 storey house.

The ghouls of the night

Prologue
When the last light flickers off for the night, the ghouls come out to play. And if you are trapped upon the stairs when the light goes off, catch your breath. For it might be the last you ever take.

In your own house these horrors take place. They wait in shadow for you to make a mistake.
End Prologue

The night is still. Everyone is asleep. You stare blankly at your computer screen waiting for Hypnos to guide you to sleep. The air is still, save for the whirring of your computer. And then you realise that you are lit by the only light source in the house, its lights catching you like it catches the wandering deer. Darkness stands back because of your computer. The notion scares you. You have heard stories. Stories met with grisly ends.

Your rational mind takes over. You decide with good intention to stop wasting the night and go to bed. A plan starts to form. You prepare one last ditch effort to get sleepy. Once more the notion scares you. You have heard stories. Food will help with sleep but fear grips the middle level. There is no light there. Only shadows formed from its contours.

Now with steady steps you leave the comfort of your room. You hear your heart beat faster for no reason other than paranoia. You blame your fear on paranoia. 'Unjustified' you say.

You turn around to see the light reaching out from Your room. It dances across the walls playfully, taunting Darkness. You continue walking. Walking towards the edge of the stairs. You turn around once more to see the comforting light, what's left of its reach.

You steel yourself for the task at hand. You step onto the stairs courageously. Step by step you fade into the darkness. The light emanating from your computer slowly dissipating. And just when you begin to have second thoughts, the lights go out, casting you to Darkness.

The first thing that enters your mind is a story you once heard before.

"When the last light flickers off for the night, the ghouls come out to play. And if you are trapped upon the stairs when the light goes off, catch your breath. For it might be the last you ever take."

You catch your breath.

Reason told you once that these stories can't be true. Now, you are not so sure.

You catch your breath.

Reason tells you there's nothing to fear. Fear tells you there's nothing to reason.

Your stomach howls with Reason.

The last light has gone off. You are caught upon the stairs. You decide that whatever horrors the night has to offer, you can handle them. After all it is Your house and Your mind that sees.

The steps creak with each passing footfall. Its sound echoing hollowly. You look to your feet to step where you are going but all you see is a mere outline pruned from your imagination.

You do not pause to think about the horrors of the night.

"The length of the stairs has never seemed so long," you think to yourself. Yet its end escapes you for the moment. You contemplate giving up on this pointless quest only to find your feet move to your will, ending your turmoil upon the stairs.

You glance up as if for the first time you've seen light. The door caging your house is swinging upon its hinge, unlocked, spilling light upon your feet. How this came to be you don't remember, for you remember locking the door with Your very key. You tremble in silence giving some weight to the once ignored stories of warning. With feeble mind you tread in silence. You close the door in bated breath.

You have already traversed this far, in your own home nonetheless. You must press on.

The end is in sight. The relief from ache and bodily desire, however brief. In the kitchen You reach for a biscuit from the basket. Your satisfaction wavers when you hear a shutter opening. You pause, waiting again for its sound to confirm reality. The restroom shutter is open but a crack. Your mind wanders. All the horror stories come to mind. An assassin. A ghost intent on revenge. A mad man who's come to play.

You look to the clock. Its ticking loud and methodical, almost as if it were counting down your life. You tell yourself, perhaps the sound was of the clock. But in your mind doubt has already been seeded and tended to. You retreat in fear. You leave the kitchen stumbling past a chair only to have its thunder bring your eyes upon your reflection in the mirror.

In the pale darkness of the room, illuminated by the light coming in through the window your reflection looks like a garbled rendition of your former self. Indistinct and obscure. You move your hand but your self doesn't move.

Things are not right. You move quickly to end your misery. You turn your attention to getting to safety and that meant going up the stairs. You turn around to see the kitchen you came from and decide you'll face the horrors of the stairs if that meant returning to the comfort of your computer.

Your mind has already wandered past the point of sanity and paranoia. Your mind plays tricks on you. The steps seem further and further away as you climb. You trip, sprawling near the middle of the stairs, where just around the corner was the final flight of steps.

Your mind wanders. It wanders to places not spoken about. About tormented children. About little girls who sit upon the stairs and wait for you to pass, only to grab your legs, pulling you to hell. You dare not peek around the corner to end your diseased thoughts. You dare not continue..

You have just allowed the ghoul you've created to take your mind. And who are you without your mind?

The crazy things I do

2011-02-14T23:43:00.001+08:00

Today I went running and I was looking for a new route to run. I attempted an urban trail followed by an uphill jog along the park connector. I didn't expect my stamina to suck so badly.

So anyway. I ran and walked and ran and walked just to get my heart rate up. My eyes were seeing greenery again after a long absence with nature. My eyes 'reset' themselves. The sun was setting. Light was falling on the trees that lined the route. And during one of my bouts of walking I saw a something orange stuck on the tree trunk, the light hitting just that area where the orange was. I stopped in my tracks. Apparently I have never seen a lizard with an orange head. I decided that if completed my route and walked back to that spot and still find it rooted to the spot, I will run back home, take my bike and my camera to capture it.

I did.

I'm sure it was orange....believe me...

Crazy me.
Fun Valentine's day.

=]

Wide open space

2011-02-08T22:31:00.000+08:00

After being home and in familiar company for some time I am out of touch with the real world. I forgot how crowded buses are. How intensely awkward train rides are. Not knowing where to look. If the lady is really pregnant. If I have a headache and cannot offer my seat to someone less fortunate. Its these things that I'd rather not partake in.

I'd rather enjoy the wide open spaces that nature has to offer. The freedom of the open space above your head.

Some say that a roof over one's head is a necessity in life. Perhaps mine is the sky.

Big Brother is watching

2011-02-06T22:24:00.002+08:00

It is the first time I have seen such symbolism in real life and the raw nature of its revealing to me was chilling. To know that someone out there reads the things I read.

Imagine if you will. An eye enclosed by a triangle. Its most notorious user is that of the United States 1 dollar bill. It is called the eye of providence or more notable "The All Seeing Eye".

More commonly it represents the eye of god watching over mankind suggesting omniscient wisdom. In christianity the triangle represents the trinity. Its symbolism also extends to the group called the Freemasons who use it to represent God watching all that they are doing.

However the symbol I saw, written in pencil marks, came with a message.

"BIG BROTHER WATCHING you '1965'"

To understand this reference you would have to have read 1984 by George Orwell. In it it depicts a dystopian future where everything is controlled by state authority and freedom is non-existent.

So in its entirety.

Who is this stranger who so boldly claims that Big Brother is watching. Was the date intentionally changed to signify something else? What of the mixture of symbolism? What was stranger trying to achieve?

Teach a man how to live and he becomes a robot
Teach a man to live and he is free

I saw her sitting there

2011-02-01T23:51:00.000+08:00

I met a girl today. I sat down to a simple man's meal. And there she sat 4 tables in front of me. Our eyes met once and we parted ways.

The unrelentless rain

2011-01-30T23:04:00.000+08:00

Had to do a post after being reminded that death is always close at hand.

Death is close

I feel like I've been running in the rain
The water plaguing my face and chilling my body
Feels like the cold of a mortuary

I feel like I've been running forever
Trying to catch a rare glimpse for any signs of life
Feels like the lonely of a survivor

I feel like I've been searching aimlessly
For some semblance of truth I'm never supposed to find
Feels like the fruitlessness during famine

I feel like I've been dying ever since
Dying sporadically, dying the fuck away
Feels like the flicker of old neon lights

~Ernest

It kills me to know that people die everyday. Why him and why not me? Why them and why not me? Perhaps I'm asking the wrong question.

Why not now?

Where did all the rain come from?

2011-01-30T21:43:00.000+08:00

So it rained all day. The day was dark. The sun was nowhere to be seen and the rain seemed like it didn't stop. I loved the cool air and the 23 degree weather. It was a welcome relief from the heat wave that was Wednesday.

It was a dull day. The dim shadows cast upon the interior of the house permeated a mood of intense lethargy and general languor.

I have been recently re-introduced to living life. I am going to continue learning despite my long and surprisingly enriching stagnation. I am also going to invest some of this time to dance. I have been inspired. Also. To continue my hand at poetry. Whenever the need for screaming becomes an insatiable need.

I am at a crossroad. I have reached a point of pointlessness. And I'm perfectly fine with it.

My mind is at peace after the superfluous journey that it has endured at the hands of society's mercenaries. I am the cause of my suffering. And I'm mindful of that.

Time for some new year goodies! =]

Poetry is to words as Life is to atoms

2011-01-25T22:30:00.001+08:00

I haven't killed an insect in a long time. I had to do it last night. I feel bad.

Some random quotes/thoughts:

I don't believe in hope without endeavour.
Aung San Suu Kyi

Stupid spam mail trying to get me to buy stuff that helps me lose weight. Perhaps if you tried selling me weight gainers, I might take notice.

NEXT,

Well in every poet's life(if I can call myself a poet), I would think, there would come a day where he would write a poem about what poetry means to him. Today is that day.

Poetry is like a lover's first kiss
You feel its words course through your veins
It's like you've been touched
Poetry is like the pouring of your soul
Spit out on paper that can barely express
The pain you feel inside
Poetry is like being held at gunpoint
When nothing else matters but the moment
When you have to say what you have to say
Poetry is like a near miss at the 20 yard line
When everyone is watching
And the world is upon your shoulders
Poetry is like a sharpened knife
Ready to stab into anyone
With an open heart
Poetry is like a tribal dance
An expression of what it means to be alive
And what it means to be dead
Poetry is like a tsunami
Crashing down and destroying ideas
Leaving empty space for new ones
Poetry is like a ravaged bull
Inciting chaos and anarchy
Only to find the calm in its insanity
Poetry is like nothingness
It speaks volumes yet no word is heard
It moves people yet no one has moved
Poetry is

~Ernest

Death

2011-01-20T23:00:00.000+08:00

This made my day. Read it and weep.

Link to website I found it from. http://www.gakkaionline.net/Myths/24Hours.html

Parable of death.

Raj asked Buddha, “Reverend Sir, how come my mind wanders around to forbidden places and yours does not?” “Sir, how come I do back-biting and you don't?” “Sir, how come I don't have compassion for others, while you have?” All the questions that Raj asked were of similar nature.

Buddha replied, “Raj, your questions are good, but it seems to me that in 24 hours from now you will die.”

Raj got up and started getting ready to go.

Buddha asked, “Raj, what happened? You came with such vitality now you are totally dismayed.”

Raj said, “Sir, my mother told me that your words are true and are to be held in high esteem. So please let me go so that I may meet my family members, friends and others before I die.”

Buddha said, “But there are still 24 hours. Sit, we will talk more.”

Raj said, “Reverend Sir, please let me go. I must meet my people before I die.”

So Raj left and went home. Met his mother and started crying. The word spread. His friends came; other family members came; neighbors came. Everyone was crying with Raj. Time flew.

Raj was busy either crying or counting the hours. When only 3 hours were left, he pulled up a cot and lay down. Although the Death had not yet arrived, poor Raj was kind of dead.

When only an hour was left, Buddha walked in.

Buddha said to Raj, “Raj, why are you lying down on the cot with your closed eyes. Death is still an hour away. And an hour is 60 minutes long. That's a lot of time. Get up, let us talk.”

Raj: “Sir, what is it now that you want to talk? Just let me die peacefully.”

Buddha: “Raj, there is still time and our talk will get over before the 'ordained' time.”

Raj: “Okay, Sir . . . say what you have to say.”

Buddha: “In the past 24 hours, did you curse anyone?”

Raj: “How could I curse anyone? I was all the time thinking about death.”

Buddha: “In the past 24 hours, did you think or wish ill for anyone?”

Raj: “How could I do that? I was all the time thinking about death.”

Buddha: “In the past 24 hours, did you steal?”

Raj: “Sir, how can you even ask that? I was all the time thinking about death.”

Finally the Buddha said, “Raj, I don't know who has to die and who has to live. But understanding the ultimate truth — i.e. death — can be very enlightening. All the questions you posed to me have been answered by yourself because of the awareness of death that you experienced during the past 24 hours. The difference between me and you is that you were aware of death for the past 24 hours, I have been aware for the past 24 years.”

So how can you tell me you're lonely?

2011-01-18T23:10:00.001+08:00

A beautiful and timeless song.

False Hope & Trust

2011-01-17T22:22:00.001+08:00

A thin line spans between false hope and trust. The difference being in the outcome.
If you give someone a task, say delivering a package of utmost importance. The outcome determines the belief of that someone.

It was not delivered. It was false hope that you believed that the person would deliver it.

It was delivered. It was trust that you believed that the person would deliver it.

It is a weird conundrum.

A belief that is given a definition only after a said outcome.
When I say given a definition, I mean exactly that.

Trust is the belief in someone. How can you believe in someone if it was not delivered?

False hope is the belief that someone would do good by you. Well how can you know it was false hope unless the package was not delivered?

Is my logic faulty?

You can say I trust someone. But I can't know that until the package is delivered. If it is not delivered, then it is false hope. But if I have false hope that a package will be delivered, and it is delivered, then it is trust.

Anywho. Who gives a shit? Apparently me.

MINDgasm experience

2011-01-16T19:23:00.000+08:00

Everyday can be a MINDgasm experience. Be it seeing the beauty of mordern architecture and marveling at its complexity and intricacies. Gazing nonchalantly over the horizon while air buffets you from all sides at the back of a moving truck. Feeling the cool skid past your face in unforgiving torrents while the air around you cackles maniacally.

Its a matter of perspective. How you make your experiences become more than what it is. Some might say it is just a matter of the mind. Well the mind is how you experience the world. So I say experience it religiously.

Revere every flower and every tree.
Bask in the cool morning sun.
Breathe in the fresh air after a thunderstorm.
Hold in awe the beauty of the horizon.
And most of all behold the wonder that is Life.

Times Like These

2011-01-03T23:12:00.000+08:00

Is life just a dishonest commentary?

The new year has passed without much excitement. Although there's a feeling of noiseless agitation in the air, much like the shaking of a can of coke. That up pent tension just waiting to be released. The year 2010 has come and gone on a whim. It was not a good year.

These past few days of rain and cold weather were welcome. Keeping locked up in a house, enjoying the tropical ballet playing out the windows. Seated comfortably on the sofa enjoying a book, ironically, about exploring the wilderness. About how true freedom comes from discarding society's values and upholding the values you create for yourself. Although the character appears foolhardy, naive and immature, his passion and love for the beauty of the great outdoors stirs in me like a waking dream.

The water cascading outside my window reminds me of the days I walked out into the rain for no purpose except to get drenched. Just because I felt like it. The relentless wind blowing against the metal brackets of my umbrella and the frictionless bottom of my slipper's sole. It is times like these, I am glad to be alive.

And the rain descended heavily in a cacophony of rain, thunder and lightning.

Sonnet

2010-12-17T23:30:00.000+08:00

Aimless

A road among these roads I have to find
No idea where they lead, and to what end
Perchance it ascends, cursed it descends
Much like the blackness of the path behind
Yet I can see the roads in front clearly
As clear as day, as uncertain as night
For the ends of the road are far from sight
Almost as if, I am to choose blindly
Still, blindly; I must choose before the past
Makes its move; before my mind splits in twain
Yet, I have to compose myself; to think
Make no mistakes; outlast the coming past
Yet, I know all my thoughts will be in vain
Because all it takes is a fleeting blink

Ernest

Unnecessary Paranoia

2010-11-10T19:52:00.000+08:00

I have been warned.

"Do not go to Downtown East for no reason. You might get slashed for no reason."

I say, "If I'm not going there to pick a fight, why would anyone slash me?"

Reply, "But if you loiter the police might catch you for no reason."

I reply, "The police will not arrest me for no reason."

That is the benefit of being in a country where security is one of its valued traits. This however becomes its double edged sword. Whenever this society encounters some form of misdemeanor, everyone is on high alert. Don't do this. Don't do that. Don't RISK your life for unnecessary trouble.

Is it risk if there's no way of knowing the outcome?

I say. Its not worth it. All this unnecessary paranoia.

I'll go to downtown east whenever I want. For whatever reason. Or no reason at all.

May God Be With Them

Life goes on

2010-09-18T15:16:00.000+08:00

Minutes before disaster

The story of the end begins very quietly. People have just started work. The markets were open for business and the housewives were haggling. The sky was a clear blue with no signs of clouds. The retired folk were lounging in plastic chairs at the coffee shops. It was a warm sunny day in the middle of september.

Someone once said that 1 death is a tragedy and a thousand deaths is a statistic. Well what happened on that day would be remembered as a dark dark day on God's Earth.

At approximately 9.15 a.m local time, something of incredible power was set in motion. Exactly 100 people were involved with the operation. Out of which, 20 worked on the monstrosity. 20 worked on the computer system that ran it. 20 were high ranking officials who had allowed this monster to be born. 20 more were bankers who had funded the operation. 10 were the science team that first proposed the idea. 9 were bodyguards to the head of national security. The communications were checked and re-checked. The operational tests were done one by one with brutal efficiency. And at 9.30 a.m local time, everything was ready. The encrypted pass-keys were entered without thought and delay. The decision had been made years before. The impending doom was as they say, set in stone.

At the launch pad, the metal struts fell apart releasing it from its earthly shackles. The metal monstrosity was sprayed with liquid nitrogen to prevent a premature bang as it slowly rose into the air in a cloud of smoke and dust, almost like a magician levitating effortlessly in front of paid audiences.

As the audience clapped in celebration and awe at what was achieved, a lone figure walked out of the room crying tears of regret and despondency. He walked the length of the facility in bated breath. Arriving at the living quarters, he trudged the remaining steps to his bedside, pulling out a gun from under his sheets. With shaking hands, he placed the cold barrel to his head, shivering at its touch. He increased his breathing knowing that these will be the last he ever tastes. "I'm sorry" was whispered as he clicked the gun. It performed its savage purpose without feeling without regret, unlike the man who just crumbled to the floor who died from his own actions.

Back home, people were working harder with lunchtime approaching. The housewives were already seated drinking coffee and gossiping about the neighbors and the state of the world. The politicians were deciding whether to make cycling on pavements legal. The businessmen were busy trying to get the best deals. The kids were at school. The retired were enjoying whatever is left of their retirement which sadly isn't going to be for very long.

At precisely 11.30 a.m the leaders of the country were notified of the monstrosity. At 11.50 most of them have already left the country in a haste. At 11.53 a woman by the name of Rachel had become the leader of the country. At 11.55 she found out how to alert the country of the impending destruction. At exactly 12 p.m the last noble thing was done on this young country. Rachel gave the order for the Alarm. An alarm signaling the end. It reverberated throughout the country like a war cry and at the same time it felt like the beating of a stubborn heart.

Heads rose to the siren. Curiosity splashed across their faces. Their first instinct, "Where does the sound come from?" Their second instinct, "What does the sound mean?" In times of emergency, people do not know how to respond. They wait like sheep in a herd for a shepherd to lead the way. One individual amongst the crowd knew what it meant. He stood there listening to its piercing pulse and with utmost certainty he knew what was his final act. He smiled in mockery. He smiled in the face of ignorance. "I beat you. I beat you". He began to run, leaving his bag and world possessions where he will last stand motionless. People stared at him in a mixture of disbelief and the idea that he did not belong to a crowd of people walking.

He ran with all his strength without a moment of pain. He was liberated with the knowledge of death and embraced its coming. He ran towards a goal. His one and only purpose driving him through the torrent of fleeting moments in life. His breath never tired and his legs never wavered. This was what it meant to be human. This was what it meant to be alive.

On another part of the country, a girl awoke to the sound of the siren. Awakened by the sudden commotion, she sat up in her bed, her breathing coming in short rasps almost as if she was having a bad dream. She did not know the significance of the alarm. She did not know what it meant. She knew that it was something bad. She picked up the phone and called her boyfriend. The lines were down. She decided that it was nothing to be afraid of. Someone would take care of it.

As he weaved in and out of the concrete jungle, he passed people glued to the ground just waiting for something to happen. He passed people who were blissfully accomplishing their daily routines. He passed people who just ignored the call and decided that it was perhaps just a drill or a test of some sort. But he did not stop. He pushed on with the fervor of a deranged killer going in for the kill. But his purpose was not to kill, but to redeem.

She sat down at her breakfast table and ate cereal as the alarm droned on in the background. Oblivious like everyone else.

He had arrived to his destination. Running up a flight of stairs he flew up to the 8th floor of the building. Turning left he arrived at his destination. He quickly rang the bell.

The bell to her house rang. It was noon. No one did house calls at noon. She placed her half finished bowl of cereal into the sink and readied herself in the mirror. She looked through the peephole and saw her best friend pacing outside. She opened the door with a pleasant look of surprise on her face. He looked at ease although his face bore the marks of having run a marathon. He entered cautiously but purposefully. He turned toward her. For some reason, as she stared into his eyes, she realised that he had come in desperate need. He had come knowingly. He had come as a warning. As a lover, although she refused to accept it. There was concern and regret as he spoke his next words.

"We don't have much time"
"Time?" she replied.
"We are going to die." he said matter-of-factly.

A silence hung on that last word. They knew it was coming but never this soon.

"When?" as she finally realised what it all meant.

He dragged her to the biggest window. He tore open the curtain and the metal barrier that held it in place. He slid the glass windows off to the side and stood looking at the expanse of sky before him. She placed a tender hand upon his hands. He broke down into tears, heaving to prevent himself from crying. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders in a loving embrace. She also began to sob. He wiped off his tears and turned to face her.

"I've always loved you."
"I know."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw its descent.

He pulled her into a hug, her face away from the window.

"Close your eyes."
She did.

And he held her lovingly. As if 2 completed a whole that was as normal as the sun. He held her gently as if every inch on her body was precious. He held her like there was no tomorrow. She knew that this was right. This was the way it was meant to be. She knew that there was no other way. That this embrace held all their unspoken words and achieved an understanding beyond those words.

The people on the streets stopped everything they were doing to look up. The buildings rumbled in unison, increasing in intensity. The businessmen pounded away at their keyboards as if it were a normal day. The religious folk started to pray fervently. The slightly religious people became religious instantaneously and prayed to be forgiven for all the times not prayed. The housewives were shrieking down the street running as far away as possible. Which wasn't very far. The politicians decided that if they survived this, they would take control over the chaos. The kids were innocently curious but unknowing. The retired felt that the time has come. And the rest were just immobile. Not knowing to flee or to stay. Not knowing whether this would be their last day. Not knowing what to say or do. They just stood there.

As it hurtled down to where the lover's embraced, its unfeeling core prepared itself for impact, the pervasive vibrations it carried was felt for miles, defiling everyone before its final act of self-righteous justice.

And just like that there was nothing. Nothing but a patch of land where people used to work, live and play. There was nothing save for a green cloud of toxic smoke, rubble and dust.

The end was not a literary work of fiction.

It was now reality.

The End.

Mildly put, I am obssessed with the truth

2010-09-12T22:01:00.000+08:00

There is this fundamental thought, this idea. This incessant background noise that drones on and on like a migraine. The idea that we are alive. This basic idea that life is something to be revered. This idea that life is something extraordinary. And it is! It really is. The endless possibilities that life brings, that every second was built up from billions of years ago and that every single action will build up for the countless amounts of years ahead of us.

It is said that we live in a time full of surprises and full of wonder and discovery. We live in a time of endless change and of exponential progress. It is a GREAT time to be alive. And we should revel in it. It is a wonder how people can go about their lives in a catatonic state of disregard and disbelief. Of traveling from place to place for the sake of perpetual movement guided by the purpose of moving for movement sake. We are alive in every instant and every moment we fail to understand that is a moment lost not to time, but to eternity. For every instant is an eternity.

I might seem to be unhappy. I might live in perpetual movement. But what is different about me is a deep-seated joy that stems from the very basic notion of being alive. And with that, a simple smile will suffice from an understanding that the baby will soon stop crying.

Atlas Shrugged

2010-09-06T20:26:00.001+08:00

Rid me of all unhappiness and leave me be
I refuse to play in your denial
Knowing the pain of expectations
Versus the irrevocable truth
Spare me your formalities
Release me from the shackles I helped to make
Let me escape your tyranny
And allow me to breathe if nothing but to stay alive
I have been taught not by you
Taught a lesson that requires wordless indifference
A lesson of empty promises
That you make on a whim to satisfy your insatiable need for false charity
To justify to yourself that you are right
So tonight I weep and struggle in silent pain
Waiting once more for a reprieve
Granted not by you nor myself
But deservingly received

~Ernest~

The tyranny that is facebook

2010-09-05T00:47:00.000+08:00

To prove exactly how much I despise facebook, I have decided to post about facebook. (irony)...

I spent this day in the arms of family and a feeling of silent reckoning. Exactly like how it was when I was born.

This growing dependence on technology is one the reasons for the growing superficiality of having an online identity. Safe from anything too personal and allowing one to have all the time in the world to sculpt an image of sufficient 'goodness' that is a falsity of anything it means to be truly human. We do not use our minds anymore. In fact we are mere slaves to programs who remind and suggest to us things that we would once have remembered on our own. If that information is not freely available, it exists only in the minds of those who bother to think at all.

I do not care for birthday wishes on my facebook account. I do not care to know that you have come online and merely chanced upon the fact that it is my birthday and to give me a message that says nothing, means nothing and has absolutely no hint of sincerity. And that is precisely why I have refused to partake in this facebook sham. I removed my birth date for this exact reason. To let go of the silly notion that people actually care. I do not wish to be placated or to be obliged. It is superfluous to write anything of great meaning and length either. Its meaning will be lost through the covers of a lighted back-screen. It is not a greeting that I will ever accept. In their minds, I must have released some sort of stranglehold. In their minds, they probably feel relief that they do not have to bluff a greeting to show other people that they somehow feel a semblance of care. That somehow they are the 'better' person to have done it than not at all. Well I won't give them that chance. And I will spare them that obligation. Those of you who know, will probably read this and revel in shock or pity. I need neither. If you have bothered to read at all, I thank you for taking the time to understand. And that is about all I wish to do.

Have a splendid Monday morning. =]

Thanks random website for sending me a birthday greeting.

19 years and counting

2010-09-05T00:40:00.000+08:00

The 200th post

happy birthday to me
happy birthday to me
happy BIRTHDAY to meee e
happy birthday to me...

=]

Retreat from Concrete jungle

2010-09-03T17:56:00.000+08:00

Now I know why I loved Pasir Ris Park so much...

I left the concrete jungle, for a picturesque route. To experience that feeling of freedom I so longed for. It had always started with a bump. Almost as if it speaks of life and how troubles should be endured before bliss can take over. Trembling to the beat of the wheels against the humps I managed to catch a glimpse of the Welcome board. "You are here," it says. "And nowhere else," it added. A scribble upon the board. I once mentioned that the current day prophets wrote on the comment boards of the internet. I see that some prophets still prefer the sound of silence. And then like all things moving, the ground leveled and the way was opened. The first thing that caught my attention was its serenity, its abnormal quiet. The wind and the waves seem to have been frozen in time. Slowly I could hear the other inhabitants of this peaceful space. The controlled breathing and rhythm of a passing jogger. The pretty girl who flip flopped past in nonchalance. The ringing of a bicycle bell in the distance. The chirps of the active birds. It was then I took notice of the sky. The semi-gray clouds diffusing the evening sun casting a soft shadow on everything in sight. I pedaled on in quiet appreciation of the moment, holding my breath in reverence afraid that if I breathed too loudly I would destroy the moment. I gradually relaxed the grip on my bike, knowing that there is no one on my path, in front or behind.

CRACK! A branch of a palm tree fell down to the grassy floor shattering the peace. I was caught off guard, swerving my bike, I grabbed hold of the handle to readjust my position. In contrast what I felt was humour.

I decided that it was time to go home. I swiftly increased my speed and chose, on impulse, a different route. As I turned back to civilisation, I felt the cooling brush of nature on one side and the heated wave of transport on the other. It was as if the road complimented nature and nature complimented the road. A mutually binding friendship that was born from ideas and innovation. The road opened up ahead to a junction. Welcome home to the concrete jungle.

The Search Never Ends

2010-09-02T16:21:00.000+08:00

I should say I am a little comforted. Strange how small things are the big events in my life. I happened to overhear an old man chatting on the phone to a friend. He was saying in Chinese: "Everyone has their own views and they are ENTITLED to their opinions. Don't force me to believe in your God."

The search for truth is on-going even at an old age. This is comforting to know that this search might have no definite end and the idea that the journey is all that matters. So jump into the abyss with this french dude and take a leap of wonder.

What's a life lived without trying all of its wonders?

On this note.

I am surprised that people would want to put practicality above enjoyment, above happiness or fun. I am told that being practical is one's happiness that he has a stable income, money saved up for a kid, a wife to love and a job to which he is contented to work for just for the money. I cannot understand this position. I also cannot understand why some people would want to do things they do not like so as to prevent getting sick of said interest. For eg. I love photography. Because I love it, I won't pursue it for the sake of preventing myself from getting sick of it.

How does that work out? It seems to be contradictory. If you love something, shouldn't you pursue it to the ends of the Earth to make it earn a living for you? I do not understand why would someone fall for a second tier job like teaching just because its stable ,and not because of the love for teaching, when they could be enjoying the love of their passion.

Maybe I'm young and naive. But this I cannot understand. I want to dive just like the guy up there even if it takes me half a year to do it. I want to learn capoeira just so I can breakdance and do parkour(maybe even a parkour film set in Singapore). I want to learn quantum mechanics, just because it explains what I've yearned to know about the world even if I do not really understand it or make a contribution. I want to work in a garage and be a grease-monkey. I want to understand religion like fundamentalists do and sing the songs with fervour. The thing I'm stressing is that life has so much to offer but are we really content with the way we are living? Maybe its just me. Maybe its just me...

Arrogance

2010-08-29T21:28:00.000+08:00

I have 'ended' my obsessive search for truth. The tired and fruitless search for an unobtainable goal. This search is becoming an undercurrent of who I am. I have become too tired to ask the same questions and receive no answers. Or receive answers that are just an excuse that refuses to answer the question. In that way, I have formed my own reasoning, my own idea of truth. And when I mean an idea of truth, I mean exactly that. An idea. Its all that there is left from an unending list of questions.

I don't know what made me type this post today. Maybe its the world around me that beckons a written word. Or maybe its my way of recording an end or a beginning to something new. The 'final' semester has ended. I won't say it was a breeze neither will I say it was hell. Life is surprising. And with the surprises comes revelation. I will not have learned without them.

Let me tackle a question here.

What is the deep underlying motive to understand what we are doing here? Why do we ask ourselves the purpose to our lives? What forces us to question the question of our existence or the meaning of life?

Stephen Hawking once said that life without the search for truth is not a life worth living. Why does it affect me so much? I have once smiled at my ignorance. Perhaps I am not worthy to know. Perhaps I do not need to know to enjoy all of life's wonders. I have always paused to notice the busker. Paused to notice the blue skies and the grey. I love the smell of fresh air in the park on cold, wet mornings. A sweet musky scent, reminiscent of a simpler time. In contrast, I have also always noticed the angry, sad, blank faces of the working class. I wonder what causes them so much pain and agony that they do not even smile at the end of a working day. And I wonder if I will fall into this pit of despair like they do. I wonder what makes them continue day after day in this misery. I hope I never find out.

On a happier note. I am finding out about the essential nature of exercise once more. The training has begun for NAPFA, which I will surely fail. Just how badly. Haha. I am also pushing for a handstand, cartwheel, and no leg push ups. LOL. All for the sake of overall body conditioning and to do the following....(in order)
Capoeira, tricking, breakdance, parkour. YEAH! and on a side note to also prepare my body physically for a long production which I cannot afford to falter on. IBP.

So life looks to brighter than I could have hoped for. Things are taking shape. A shape of unimaginable contours and edges. How surprising...

~Speak in riddles and only the wisest of men will know your mind~

Reply to Newspaper 15th July 2010

2010-07-15T10:18:00.001+08:00

Have we become a nation where we have to resort to childish antics like shaming people for the wrongs they have done just so that we can deter people from littering? Something must be wrong. If we were to truly be concerned and care for the environment, nothing beats education and leading by example. When I was in China, the streets were dirty and litter was everywhere. I asked a local friend, why do you litter? He replies that its because its already so dirty. When you have a city thats clean and litter-free, people would naturally be deterred not to litter. Lead by example. Let's not shame people for their mistakes. Educate them as we should in an educated society.

CHILL

2010-05-06T19:37:00.000+08:00

The difference between a performer and a dancer is that a performer dances to entertain. A dancer dances to express.

The world looks rosy and fresh like a budding flower approaching maturity
A poetic ambience seems to accompany the prophetic smells of the flowers
And as an amazingly delightful whistling tune whiffs through the air, I can't help but bask, very much alone, in its oddity.

Churn and burn the cattle
Cake and bake the remains
Blow and show the sea
Retrieve and receive
Be free

Once more I am left alone
Isolated from the outside
The fabric on my skin a dull blur
Like a 3D movie without eyewear

Splice the rice in 2
Break a lake in 3
Cut a fart in 4
Tear a stare for more

The burden of living everyday to the fullest is to look down. LOL

So Let me give you a tour of my exciting friday.
1. Left for school at 8.30
2. Watched movie on train
3. Attended WISP( IS module) class from 10 to 12.
4. Talked to people till 12.30.
5. Left for marina square. (admired the ferns growing around clementi on the bus ride)
6. Bought tickets for D-13 ultimatum(sucks...cause they dubbed it in english....BLEH)
7. Ate beef chilli cheese fries and had an ice cream shake at Carl's jr (my weakness is carl's junior's ice cream shake)
8. Watched the movie till 4.
9. Took the circle line to paya lebar (highlight of my day! lol I've always wanted to sit at the 'driver's seat of the train. And the circle line has no front and back. It has windows that I can look out of. Did you know that tunnels were not square? They are round. Only at stations are they square. COOL STUFF. A whole underground world to explore.)
10. At Pasir Ris I ran home and on the way I imagine I was some marathon runner while screaming 'urban warfare' in my head. (I only managed to run 2 blocks and I was soon out of breath. Damn...
11. I dropped my bag at home and left in 10 mins.
12. Went to swimming pool. Swam till 6.45.
13. Ate rice with watermelon (awesome mixture. Must try it sometimes. Like you eat one mouth of rice then you eat the watermelon and then the rice will taste sweet!)
14. Walked around the house.
15. Typed till here.

We pick and choose(leave out everything else)

2010-04-26T21:31:00.001+08:00

http://www.egodialogues.com/general/violinist-in-metro.php

A sadomasochistic lifestyle has a way of working out.

First off, pain will be pleasurable. And putting yourself in deep shit will be pleasurable. Of course a sane person wouldn't do so. But what if you were a just a lil crazy. Or lets say a lil 'informed'.

Being able to control your thoughts, feelings and bodily functions is the whole point of the brain.(maybe not the whole point but for exaggeration sake)

The brain controls all these...So what if you feel shitty? Just tell yourself you feel happy when you're shitty. And that makes all the difference. Not only will your demeanor change but you'll feel happy in a shitty situation. Thats the whole reason I'm talking about sadomasochism. Gaining pleasure from pain(hurt from life) may help you release some of the crazy tension that goes with just pain. Why not enjoy yourself while you're at it. It works even better if you have nothing to fight for. When you're at your lowest. Because any more added pain will make no difference so why not try enjoying pain while you're at it?

Of course when you're happy don't revert back to this sadistic nature. The mind is the foundation of human life and if you control what you think and feel, you will always be happy and satisfied.

This is a diversion of what I usually post but I think it works? I just need a time to put this to work...hmmmm.....

And of course, click the link at the top and read the article.

Look around you.

Beauty lies in everyday life. Not only in the moments you deem important.

The first day among many others

2010-04-19T20:47:00.000+08:00

And once more I have seen love second hand. Read love second hand. Felt love second hand. And once more I feel that my time has not arrived. So for the love birds out there and those falling in love. 3 song dedications. Hope it makes you feel as good as it makes me.

Enjoy

Love is a war
A drug
A sinner's luck
It makes the kings of kings fall to his knees
It makes the queen of queens content
It makes the common folk write poetry
It makes the slaves lament

192

2010-04-11T10:11:00.000+08:00

http://www.damninteresting.com/the-total-perspective-vortex

http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/equality-before-the-law-20100413-s7hc.html

Just read finished Brave New World by Aldous Huxley and I must say the book is a must-read on all levels. It isn't like contemporary novels that just serve to entertain, this book also serves to question everything we hold dear. I must say I am overwhelmed by it and will be re-reading it the next chance I get.(I must be getting old, I couldn't understand some parts)

But let me summarise what I have learnt reading the book. In a language I know best. Poetry.(The book is extremely poetic)

View this world in new eyes
Like an animal just born
And know that the meaning of being
Being what we call human
Is the ability to suffer

And throughout the whole process of the holidays, thinking about everything.(Being idle does that to you. 'Forces' you to think) I have come to realise the potential of our minds and the potential grants us the ability to generate truth, reality, and belief.

We all obsess ourselves to find meaning, and purpose for our lives. But what really is the point? Now I Believe that there is no point.[(emphasis on NOW. Beliefs and realities are changeable and can be corrected in due time)]
And compellingly I Believe that the journey is all that matters. The inescapable fact that things just are the way they are. A chair is a chair. Not a prop for global domination, To get people fat and cause the evolution of no legs through the lack of use of legs. If you get where I'm going.

So I bid farewell to this weekly blog post. I'm sure I'll be caught up in school to have any form of revelation or epiphanies. And I apologise for not belting out the stories I promised. I'm much more of a perfectionist than I thought.

For those with time on their hands and thoughts to spare. Get thinking. You'll discover something more everyday.

Time for school!

Here's 2 comics to get you thinking.

Deconstruct

2010-04-07T00:03:00.000+08:00

The sky painted black
Encompassing those within
In a dense bubble

Meaning: (line 1) 'The sky painted black' The sky represents freedom and a higher power. It also is said to be the place of the Gods among others. And ancient people have always looked to the skies for answers and signs. When eclipses or volcanic eruptions happen, the sky can turn dark if only temporary but it was always an omen of something terrible to come or a sign of God's wrath. Wars have stopped during eclipses and people have died during volcanic eruptions. The sky sometimes also represents knowledge and with this black painting, the sky might be hiding this knowledge.

(line 2) 'encompassing those within' is straight forward enough. It means from which there is no escape. It surrounds those trapped in its darkness. It seems almost too close for comfort as the word encompass feels a little bit like an invasion on a personal level.

(line 3) ' In a dense bubble' This here line is the clincher. It is what makes and breaks the other 2 lines and gives its meaning some sense of finality. First off, 'bubble' can be interpreted as innocent(kids blow bubbles all the time) and a way of safety by shielding 'those' within from its dark clutches. Dense also has a double meaning. It can mean stupidity or its natural meaning 'strong/thick etc.' Dense also means tightly compact. When you go through calamity with someone, You can also be united, densely.

So by way of explanation, this haiku tells of a foreboding storm to come, an omen for chaos/disaster which will inevitably affect everyone but will be be shielded from darkness through the act of sticking together . I can also interpret it in another way. That this coming storm will blind people from seeing the truth and be encased in a bubble of stupidity and/or innocence. Then again it can be seen as though the darkness constitutes the bubble and everyone will be affected no matter what.

Thought process of course takes less than that. Typing it down takes more time. And of course it is edited(censored) for the readers.

Well the important part of reflection has just arrived.
Observation about dancers.

1. Lockers will smile when dancing. Fake HUGE smiles. But some are genuine and you can really tell that they loveeee locking. Its so fun to watch their FUNKiNESS

2. Poppers will grit their teeth, look down, and have an intense look of concentration on their faces. Those who are more established will look damn cool but other than that...If you do not see how a popper dances, you will be laughing at his face(mine included). But its sooooo captivating to watch someone with skill perform on stage. I am inspired and awed. I can forget about everything. About the pain in my body, the heat of the sun, the aching feet.

3. Breakers will look positively killa. Like arrogant and proud. And of course when they pull something off well. BOOM. The crowd goes wild. I go wild.

Damn I love watching people dance as well as dance myself. I perhaps am not suited for competitive dancing yet. But if I do try out one day, I'll make sure I am well prepared for my debut.

Like the merlion
My mouth was open
Regurgitating the water of respect(the way dancers say it)

Clarity

2010-04-05T23:01:00.001+08:00

Human eyes are so
obsessed with clarity. What
if truth is a blur?
Random Website

Like a morning star
He awakens to find out
That the sun is up
(meaning: We can't see stars in the day time. So this haiku represents a person's invisibility in the world. The word 'awakens' signifies his realisation of our insignificance. And...This is how you interpret my poetry, simply put)

Rummage through the dust
In search of forgotten facts
What an adventure
(meaning: dust suggests that what the person is looking for is old because dust settles. 'Search' everything is a journey and like everything, its a journey for some semblance of truth(forgotten facts) and its the journey that counts not the goal) Okay the last part is not apparent.

Let's try another
This time, try a little conscious effort at discerning what I mean

The sky painted black
Encompassing those within
In a dense bubble

This one is a bit tough.
Come on.
Try your hand at it.

I'll have the 'answer' to it in my next post. See what you can come up with. Tag me.

Keep them at bay
They bring bad luck for those who walk under

The perception of the observer

2010-04-04T23:06:00.000+08:00

Was reading up on Schrodinger's cat and it blew my mind. How can a person's cat blow my mind? Well in many unimaginable ways. Well a little introduction. Schrodinger was a theoretical physicist best known for his innumerable contributions to quantum mechanics. If I remember correctly, I read somewhere, a quote about quantum mechanics.
"If you understand quantum mechanics, you don't understand it"
It is a whole different way of seeing the world for what it is in its simplest forms.

Enough about quantum mechanics. Well Schrodinger's cat was a thought experiment proposed by Erwin(first name) pointed out the nature of quantum superpositions. In simple terms, an object can both exist and not exist at the same time.

So in this thought experiment, Schrodinger's cat was placed in a container of a radioactive substance. We all know in secondary school physics that all radioactive substances have a half life. But as this is theoretical, the radioactive substance in question is unknown and will or will not decay depending on its natural half life. But if it does decay, releasing an atom, this will trigger a hammer to crush a substance called cyanide(killer substance), killing the cat.

Now this is the interesting part. The box is closed and now we wait. So what is the outcome of the experiment? When the box is closed, is the cat dead or alive? Quantum superposition states that the cat is both dead and alive. Unless we open the box, we won't know if it is alive or dead. This paradox is called the observer's paradox or quantum indeterminacy. This means that until we open the box and observe the cat, no matter the outcome, only then can we determine if the cat is dead or alive. So the mere act of OBSERVATION can cause an outcome which previously didn't exist.

Don't you think this is so cool? The mere act of observation can make something exist. The mere act of observation can make something real. Or as real as its going to get.

A little thinking and a new view of the world.

Learning a lil more every single day

Churn and burn the cattle
Cake and bake the remains
Blow and show the ocean
Retrieve and receive
Be Free

There is no desire to pursue knowledge

2010-03-28T16:18:00.001+08:00

http://frethink.com/2008/08/25/anti-intellectualism-is-destroying-america/

Epiphany!

Been thinking. And well enjoying life. It was raining today. I jumped for the opportunity. I wore my waterproof jacket and went out into the rain. I walked and walked. I stood under torrents of falling water. I splashed around in little lakes. I tapped my way through puddles and opened my arms to welcome more rain. I relished the cold weather.

He strode out into the rain
Subtly smiling
There was a controlled ecstasy
To his movements
Like a subdued explosion
Meeting an old friend
Peter cascades
Patcher plummets
To the beat of
Tip tap slippers
Sploshing in unison
To the tune of the falling rain
Arms outspread
He was as they say
A walking cliche

Second Epiphany!

Do you remember when you were young? Of course you do. But do you remember thinking about stuff? Thinking things through?(say that fast 3 times) For me personally, I cannot remember my childhood. I remember fragments of what I think is real or has happened. I remember fragments of what I might have done or didn't do. But one thing I can't remember is actually thinking. I can't remember thinking things. Well after learning a bit about the human mind this past week. I realised that perhaps this conscious thought is what was missing from my childhood. Conscious being the keyword.

And do you remember how when you were young, you were very impressionable. If I told a boy since young that stars were tiny light bulbs in the sky, he would believe it till the day someone teaches him that stars were actually spheres of helium and hydrogen undergoing thermonuclear fusion reactions which causes an equilibrium of gravity as a compressional force and an outward pressure of radiation. Point being, teach a kid something, he will believe it no matter how untrue or real it is. Cause the conscious is bypassed.

I can remember thinking when I was in Sec 4. That was when I really started thinking. Consciously. So what happened to the first 16 years of my life? I wasn't thinking then? And maybe there is some truth to that. We do not actively think during our childhood. We act. We act using our subconscious minds. Perhaps that is why we were more creative then. Because there is nothing stopping you from thinking rationally, from thinking logically and from thinking creatively. The conscious mind blocks out all form of creativity by limiting us to what is considered real and well, logical.

So for us to truly use our minds to its fullest potential, we have to prevent that first chain that locks us. And that is to completely escape the conscious and tap into our subconscious.

There are ways and means of doing this and this is what I've learnt. You can go read up more.(type in google keywords) Sidenote: Its an art form to search the internet. Type the right words, you'll find the right things.

1. Meditation
Breath is most important in meditation and by controlling and focusing on breath, one can achieve a state of one-pointedness. This opens up higher consciousness. By achieving a deep state of relaxation and calm, one can achieve a heightened sense of consciousness and in essence be able to tap into the subconscious mind's potential. Its all about the technique.(I do not know the details but I know it can be achieved) And with everything, the more hours of practice one puts into doing it, the easier it is to achieve that state.

2. Hypnosis
Despite all the mumbo jumbo behind hypnosis, it has been proven to work for a variety of reasons. First off hypnosis is practiced by highly trained professionals and can be used to tap into people's subconscious. Using subliminal messaging, association, suggestibility among many others to tap into the subconscious, people can be made to do outrageous things and/or forget all problems, create false memories and so forth. Its all about how the mind works. But then of course, the person being hypnotized has to be relaxed and comfortable, must want to be hypnotized and believe that they can be hypnotized. Again this creates a state of deep relaxation where the hypnotist can penetrate the 'patient's mind as if the 'patient' were an impressionable child.

So there ends another learning thing about the holidays. Wonder if I will continue writing when school starts.

I am only eloquent when I virtually speak

Neighbourhood Patrol

2010-03-21T22:52:00.000+08:00

Anyway...This will be a photo blog. With...poetry!!!

The rain hurtled down
Punishing the weak petals
Unrelenting against the liquid bombs
It stood its ground
Like a defiant offspring
Against mother nature

Cat scratches its back
Like a slim model itching
To show off its fur

Lets play a game
Like little fools we play
A little game today
Guess its purpose
The possibilities are boundless
Let me begin
Like roses are red
It looks like a wooden plate
Then again perhaps its plastic
Something to do with music?
It could be an instrument
Maybe a figment
of my imagination
But imagination can run wild
Like a wall defiled
Like a cursed spear
Sending corybantic fear
Through the hearts of common folk
Slashing stroke by stroke
A painting of the rain
A weapon for the insane

A MUST READ POST!
LINKED
http://www.examiner.com/examiner/x-8947-LA-Atheism-Examiner~y2009m6d3-The-Saddhu-a-nontranscendental-morality-tale

We created the Gods and then the words to describe them.
Litchfield

haahs im good mans

2010-03-19T00:06:00.000+08:00

Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.
Buddha

I just realised he says many incredible things. Not only does he say incredible things, he said it thousands of years ago.

Anyway...I'm finding out alot about myself. Talking to people.
Traits that I never knew I had.
1. Fickle (Apparently I don't hold true to my own ideas)
2. Arrogant
3. Weird?(okok i always knew i was weird...just had to admit it) [I step on certain boxes in the house and avoid the rest. I like the new book smell. I find messy tables a comfort. I like linearity when it calls for it.)
4. Think too much. (Don't know if there's a single word to sum up that)
5. Thrifty to the verge of being Stingy. (I need to loosen my hold on money)

To show you how much I think here's a short story:

I held myself back.
I was at a meeting of under privileged and people from broken family backgrounds. And to some of them, to feel shame is to fall in front of people and bullied in front of others.

I held myself back.
I wanted to say something.
In my head I was formulating what it meant. What did the statement mean? What does it mean to them?
I almost wanted to say something.
But it wasn't my place.
I would have said,"Shame comes about from reacting to what people deem as abnormal and humiliating. If we deem it otherwise, it would not be shameful. Falling down would be just falling down and being bullied in front of others would be painful and not shameful."
We can control what we feel, but we cannot control what other people think of us. So feel no shame, because there is no shame.

This thought process happens in just 30 seconds...about there.

Went shopping! FOR BOOKS! =] Going to be reading this few days and chill...

I need to release all the heavy stuff...and enjoy the light stuff.

Hang around a lil while more. Who knows what gems you find?

Grim Eagerness

2010-03-14T21:38:00.000+08:00

To fulfill a prophecy of a prophet we justify our actions to make it real.
Quote "The doomsday code"

There is a grim eagerness for the end to come. We should live as if we would live forever. But live each day as if it were our last.

Anyway. I just came back from Zouk. Small cramped spaces. Bodies touching bodies. Drunk people go wild. Hot girls rampant and weird pervy guys a must. And everything is expensive. Well for all the bad points, I've learned one thing. That music helps me escape. A release for my mind, body and soul. When the music is playing, all I can do is dance with it. Bounce with it. Shake with it. Depending on the song. I don't think about anything else. I let it flow through me. For some people, its alcohol. For others is drugs. For me? Music.

When that music is playing, I forget all my troubles. I leave my philosophy. I became a 'calm' me. Its invigorating. Plus, its the only exercise I've gotten in awhile.

Darn I'm hungry....

Cryptic ramblings

2010-03-08T01:22:00.000+08:00

The scientific method starts with a null hypothesis, not with a preconceived notion to justify; and that process invariably produces data that do not support the conclusion, and theories tend to change over time as a result. From skeptoid.com

This day has passed.
Our lives, too, are closing.
Like fish with little water,
Joy will not last.
Let us work with pure effort.
Work as we would were our heads aflame.
Be mindful of impermanence.
Be careful of idleness.
Buddism quote

The sickness encompasses his entire being
Enveloping him in a painful cocoon
A struggle results in binding flashes of pain
And a call for help would be in vain
Thus is the fate of a man wrapped by illness
Thus is his fate to endure
For now let us wait
As he embraces the end
Ready to see again
Ernest

A slice of emotion
A pinch of effort
A powerful diction
A successful flirt
Ernest

Perhaps comforting lies do help in a world plagued by materialism, by injustice, by war by famine and now unprecedented levels of paranoia. maybe the world needs comforting lies and not uncomfortable truths. Perhaps what the world needs to know is that it is okay. That help will arrive, That life will go on.

The ghosts of the night
Come out to haunt
The lovers the sinners and the hopeless

For the lovers, they prepare a little feast
A little push in the right direction
An atmosphere of romantic proportions
A lovely evening to end all lovely evenings

For the sinners, they prepare a little fire
A little push in the fiery depths
An atmosphere of deathly proportions
A painful death to end all painful deaths

For the hopeless, they prepare nothing
A little push in the wrong direction
An atmosphere of nothing
A fate worse than death
Ernest

Beastly shapes come out to play
Hold on there your mind's at stake
////////////////////////////////////////////////////
Behold the night sky
A backdrop for the playful
A playground for the perverse

Listen for the subdued sounds
Spearing from the depths
They whistle to you
Like a humble prophet

See their writings
Read them while you can
For their words infest the public walls
Till a swift hand heals them

Taste the ghastly air
Of deathly tar
Of ugly scars
Know; this was foretold

Breathe in the scents
Creeping up your nose
Pungent though it may seem
It awakens the fainted souls

Now feel your heart
Listen to its beat
And see yourself
Eat the foods with joy
And breathe with content
You are alive
Give thanks

Signed
The prophet of the walls

Ernest

For thus I am sick and frail to wander
Please know now that death burdens and succumbs

A pursuit of understanding

2010-03-01T22:50:00.000+08:00

Learning more each day each week each so on and so forth.

http://www.miller-mccune.com/culture-society/triumph-of-the-cyborg-composer-8507/

"It is only in our thoughts that ideas, beliefs, and problems become solid, dark and unyielding. Reality itself is moveable, light, ever-changing. In our minds we seem trapped in reality but we are utterly free." Ezra Bayda

I can't believe someone said it before me. And it rings so true.(Read the post below) There must be some underlying truth with the way I am thinking. Or then again it could be arrogance on my part.

Learning to live with the chaos in my mind is a hard thing to do. I have to take into account, personal biases, objective view points, biased viewpoints, personal beliefs, opinions on various matters, my ego, my logic, my reason, arrogance, my ignorance, myself. And that is most important. "What do I think?" Looking at a certain argument or a certain concept or notion is hard enough without bias, but to delve beyond what is commonly known as stepping into other people's shoes, is a completely different skill. I say skill, because we have to practice. We have to be constantly working our minds to achieve this unbiased empathy. I am still learning but the process is slow and arduous.

'The important thing is to never stop questioning' Albert Einstein.

For today's person to think about. I happen to stumble upon this youtube video about a online video bible. The slogan of which was "I am not ashamed" . They have a website dedicated to this movement. http://IAmNotAshamed.org

Well it was not the video that stopped me in my tracks. It was a particular comment I found disturbing.

janey63B : It is not my decision we are all given the choice to choose our destiny. Yes if my children weren't living right then I would expect God to deal with them even if they had to go to hell - they all are given a chance. I believe in God as I am a living testimony that He is real He's a miracle working God also a healer. He always provides for me I never go hungry.

And people wonder why I do not just blindly believe in things. Even in science. I am not here to target the Christians. I'm just here to understand why. Why they do the things they do.

This person is suggesting that if his children went to hell for not believing in God it is justified because they are given a chance to believe in him. If you do not take that chance, well hell is the appropriate place for you. As morally upright human beings. As living breathing testimonies to the miracle of why we are here. Are we so selfish? Are we so unempathetic? Are we so cruel? Yes we are so selfish. We care first and foremost about ourselves. Are we so unempathetic? Yes we believe that our small world sucks when there are others whose lives suck more than us. And yes we are so cruel as you can tell that we would allow God to take our children from us because of disbelief.

Mind you, hell is a place of fire and pain and reliving death over and over again. It is a place of no return. Now. How as upright, moral, empathetic and kind citizen(janey63B) can we allow flesh and blood to suffer in such tyranny? I am appalled.

Secondly I cannot reconcile the notion of freewill and predestined future. There are several Christian books on the shelves of our bookstores that suggest that everything is predestined. That your life path is already set in stone. Then again, some christians say we have free will like janey63B. Perhaps I am still ignorant about such issues but doesn't it seem contradictory?

We have freewill. We control our lives. But the omniscient and omnipotent God has already a predestined life for you. So whatever we do, it has already been planned. Therefore there is no freewill. But if we have freewill, the future is constantly changing. It doesn't exist, but in theory it changes. So therefore our path is not predestined. But say if it is predestined and God knows about our freewill, then what is the point? Why are we here at all? If he knows we are going to make the mistake, if he knows we are going to believe in him at the end. What is the point?

And with this I leave you to your thoughts. You have to come to a conclusion about your own life and I can't do that for you. (This sentence is strange. As if I am addressing individuals rather than crowds.)

Man I love philosophy!

Ohhh for the story readers. I am still writing. Contrary to popular belief, writing takes a long time. Thought goes into every single word and how it is used in a sentence and how that sentence works with the previous one. And how the paragraph works with the whole. So forgive my laziness. I will get onto it as soon as I finish another short story.

Find peace in all the chaos. Find chaos in all the peace.

Only the Gods are real

2010-02-26T22:13:00.000+08:00

"Only the Gods are real"

This statement baffled me. I cannot understand it. Yet for some reason it rang so true that I had to write about it. Some background information. I am at a state in my life where I contemplate everything. I think constantly. I cannot stop thinking. I question God as I question the government. I question life and meaning as I question science and religion. I question state of minds and thinking itself. I question myself and others.

Only the Gods are real. Maybe they are. Maybe the only reality is that what we understand of the world is fiction and that the Gods are reality. Maybe its because they are real we live in an almost surreal world full of mysteries and wonder. We are on the verge of a new Age. An age of insurmountable amounts of knowledge which can be accessed with the flick of a button. An age of cutting edge technology that will be ethically challenged and suppressed. An age of death and famine and natural disasters. Perhaps with all these factors, only the Gods are real. We live in fiction.

Today a lady pressed the emergency button on the train. The train was parked at city hall station. I feared for my life. I would say I was paranoid. I would say I was thinking too much but the reality is "what if?" What if there was a package in the train today that was filled with explosives. What if there was a package that would kill everyone and anyone in that train and in that station. What if my life ended? Would I be held accountable for the work I did not hand up. Would I have remains for a 'proper' funeral? Would I be identifiable? Would I even bother about my earthly shell? Cause all the body is, is a shell. A shell that protects and harbours the greatest tool, the greatest item, the holy grail if you will, the greatest of all treasures. Our minds.

So perhaps it rings true. That the Gods are real. The Gods exist where everything material doesn't. The Gods exist in our minds. And we are mere fiction in God's world.

In the moments that define loneliness, there is a place to visit. It is a place where reality serves as a function for sanity and peace. A little thought puts us there and in those moments, our body becomes a fragment of our living being. It is detached but absolutely relevant for our living being. It is moving, but we know not. It is alive, but we know not. For in those moments we are absolutely free. We create subjective truths. Truths nonetheless. And like a trapped buoy that rises above the watery surface, our consciousness awakens. Only then do we realise we've just visited the place of our reality. the only place that makes any sense of this material world. Our minds.

The world is a sick joke

2010-02-20T22:22:00.000+08:00

As I watch MTV now. I see all the happy artistes faces. It is a stark contrast to what I'm feeling. I feel pain for the 17 million people that have just fallen into poverty living under less than 1USD a day. And we spend ridiculous amounts on airport security, we give ridiculous amounts to the church(thankfully some of the money goes to charity, but in the US it is exempt from tax, and some people misuse the power), we spend increasing amounts paying off debt, we spend on opening casinos, we spend on keeping people from blowing themselves up.

This article in the newspaper spanned less then half a page. I am disgusted. At the very least. It was an article people would browse over and say "Oh thats sad, but what can I do about that? Move on with life I guess" 17 million people just fell into poverty. You would think there would be more to say. More to say than the escalating tensions about a security breach whereby which no one was killed. What has the world come to...Oh I know...It can be summed up using this video.

I am hideous. I am pathetic. I can only talk about this. I can only spread the word. To a blog that less than 10 people read. I am on the verge of tears cause there is nothing I can do. Not now anyway. But its given me a new perspective to what I can do in the future. I can expose the world for what it is. A sick joke. And a beautiful world of sick jokes it is. And I can do it through the medium of photography. A purpose finally from all this chaos. Its not whether I can make it. I will make it.

And here I am in all my imperfections. Alive and kicking. Ready for this world and all that it can throw at me.

I do not pray and hope.
I work for it and hope.

Splayed out for all to see or hear

2010-02-16T20:55:00.000+08:00

Start Part 2.

For a moment I was gone. Gone from that sofa of comfort. Gone from the chaotic end of the world. Gone from all the source of pain and life.

I see her face. Her smiling face.

Her smile makes my heart melt like summer on a winter's day. Its as if she was genuinely happy to see me. As if I was wanted. It was unlike those superficial smiles which pass you daily. It was beautiful. Oh how love was true.

She was, if anything, the love of my life.

She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She doesn't know I love her.

End part 2.

A car crash happened while I was walking home yesterday. It was in all aspects, Surreal. The screeching brakes could be heard above all else and then a crash. I've been in a car accident before. Nothing serious, but in that few moments it is the end of your life. A BANG! Heads turn all along the road to where the sound originated. A siren starts to blare from one of the hit cars. It was 300-400 metres down the road from the traffic light I was waiting at. The traffic light was slow to turn green. The heads never turn back. All staring down the curved road at where the accident happened. On the almost empty road I crossed the road under the green man's 'walk away' pass. People came running out from under the void decks. I stared down to where it happened. I was too far away to discern if anybody was hurt or anything should be done. Then a thought passed through my head. "I hope nobody was hurt"
A crowd quickly gathered as I slowly walked towards the scene. People were looking under the car. People walked past me in a rush to see what was happening. I stood about 200 metres away from it. There was no need for me to walk to the scene. There was no need. I decided, not to be kay poh(curious and a busybody). I walked home listening to the siren of the car pour out into the still night air. "I hope nobody was hurt". I was thinking of all the "kay poh" people. And inside me knew above all else that I wanted to go see what was happening like everyone else. I made a decision. I went home. My curiousity was never sated(i didn't know i knew this word, i knew the meaning i wrote it down, but i didn't know i knew this word, how weird is that?)

Spilling out onto the sidewalk
Guts and brains
Any humanity left in the disgusted crowd

Ending the new year on a sad note

2010-02-15T21:54:00.000+08:00

There was an alternative title but I wouldn't want to scare my readers.
(People who do bondage know that their bodies are just shells) Told ya.

Anyway. It's been a long time since I wrote stories. So I'll try one now. Forgive my inadequacy and lack of improvement. It's hard. Tell me if there are mistakes in punctuation. I have sadly forgotten...I'll try my best to find out. Take your time to read this. Stop and imagine.

Background info for story. Edward is in his 20s. He lives with his parents and his little sister.

Survival Test 1...
The sun slowly emerged in the crimson sky it was painting. Like a new dawn of a new day. The light it cast edged ever so quietly into my room, illuminating my desk clock. It ticked. 7.02. 7.03. Like clockwork it rang a piercing dull tone. Like clockwork I switch the darned thing off. Like clockwork I slept for another 5 minutes.

"EDWARD EDWARD!" as my mum came rushing into the room.
"GET UP! GET UP!"

I ducked under my head pillow in defiance.
"Son. We're all going to die," she choked.
"What?" I shouted under the muffle of my pillow.
She forcefully tore the pillow from my hands, exposing me to the harsh daylight.
"We're going to die."

My eyes slowly blinked open, still groggy from the rude awakening. My mum was bent over the bed, eyes red with dried tears and clearly shaken.

"What's wrong?"

She gestured to the open window. I placed my feet on the ground and took a few tentative steps to the window and that's when I heard it. Pandemonium. I heard people screaming like it was the end of the world. I heard burning, I heard children crying, I heard glass shattering, I heard pandemonium. I rushed to the window's edge and I stared down.

It was chaos. The buildings were burning. People were running and screaming in panic-induced mania. Most of all, people were crying. The sky was crimson red and the air smelt just like blood.

I woke up. I finally woke up.

"What? What happened?"
"This," and she pointed to the sky.

I hurried past my mother headed for the living room As I drew closer I could hear the blare of the television getting increasingly louder. Words became clear and sentences began to make sense. The world was ending. God's game was up.

Upon the television screen were a complicated mess of images, repeating constantly from badly shot footage. People were dead in the streets, looters and arsonists roamed freely and rapists were in paradise. An image of a dead baby. An image of a bleeding woman as she crawled and begged for mercy. An image of fire engulfing a man. An image of people rioting. An image of a reporter being bludgeoned to death. An image of men raping a woman on the streets. An image of a dead man. It went on and on and on. The video rolls kept going and going. It was hard to watch.

I turned to my mum in the doorway. I found no solace.

Bracing myself against the couch I fell down into its soft embrace. I never realised how soft my couch was. I shuddered involuntarily. Foreboding messages kept spewing out from the television

"Death is HERE God abandoned us 's the end of the world as we know it whywhywhy ohhhh lothebiggest death count in human history repent repent rePenT believe help mE HElp me Save ME ARRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH KIll ME KIllme!"

With the remote in hand I threw it at the tv screen smashing the glass. The sound dulled to a throb immediately. I shut my eyes as the images and sounds burned in my mind. It was excruciating.

I felt the couch dip down as 2 arms pulled me into a squeeze. My chest heaved. My mother gripped tighter. I felt the little shaking in her hands. I took a breath and I heaved again. And as we sat there, parent and child, I became a kid once more, sobbing unconsciously on her shoulder for comfort, for hope and for love.

End of Part 1. Stay tuned...

I lost

2010-02-10T00:16:00.000+08:00

I lost the bet. Darn... Perhaps I didn't had it all going huh?
So for a tribute. I'll write a poem as always. Perhaps the most angsty rant known from me aptly titled. "There must be something wrong with me(or right with you)"

There must be something wrong with me(or right with you)

Bahljeaguwakjskjn

Sorry...
Didn't mean to start in an angsty tone BUT ANGST IS WHAT I'm FEELING.
Damn it...
Let me start over
There must be something wrong with me
or something right with you
For I can get nowhere where you are somewhere now?
So a toast to all your happy returns
A little rashes for my unhappy alcohol allergy
Just to spite my senses
It's a "it's not you, it's me" kind of situation
There must be something I did wrong?
A little pushy maybe?
A little shy maybe?
A little topsy turvy?

Why does the sun go on shining?
If only to illuminate my failures
Why does the sea rush to shore
Only to drown my attempts
Oh I can't understand
No I can't understand
Why life goes on the way it does...(song cameo)

It ended when you said goodbye...

TerTsN

Forgive and forget
Forgive ranting
As I forgive myself for allowing you to read this piece of crap...

Once again...congrats

Machine Stupid, Man Also Stupid

2010-02-08T20:09:00.000+08:00

Yesss the title says it all. It was a quote from an angry man I so happened to not directly encounter.

First off...If machines don't work and there is a button that says "press for assistance" the person on the other line should be able to help. But of course, the person on the other line doesn't know the situation. And of course even after explaining the situation and holding up the entire car line that prevented cars from entering and exiting, they had to eventually open the gate to let the car through.

In the event...A guy was so fed up with waiting and said that he would pay whatever amount to get the line going. Well in that moment of anger, he shouted into the machine, "MACHINE STUPID, MAN ALSO STUPID."
It says so much, I have nothing else to say...

False concern

Oh lookie there
A child in despair
Oh poorie he
Oh dearie me
No don't leave your mama there
You know she really cares
Oh my oh me
I'd hate to see
A baby bleed

Cat On Car

2010-02-03T22:01:00.000+08:00

Oh cat on car said hi to me
Its smooth brown back crawling with fleas

It sat there on its strong back feet
However tall it was quite petite

I asked the cat "how'd you get there?"
The cat on car replied with a stare

I am amazed at your dexterity
But why you're on a car I cannot see

My head tilts off to the right side
It does the same, and does with pride

The cat now purrs like its teasing
It must enjoy the shock I'm feeling

Oh cat on car said bye to me
The only cat on car I ever did see

Ernest

Meaning

2010-01-28T20:05:00.000+08:00

PART 1

We try to find patterns,
Meaning in all this chaos

We try to make sense of all the mess
But sometimes a mess is unrepentant
Chaotic and messy

SO STOP TRYING TO FORCE THE BIRD'S FOOTSTEPS IN TUNE WITH THE HUM OF THE BUS

PART 2

Bobbing my head to songs
Listening to the lyrics
There must be a reason for this shuffled song
It tells me to "follow my heart"
It tells me not to be sad

It can't be a coincidence that the song speaks to me and me only
Perhaps fate had a hand

Should I listen to a dead man and go with his flow or should i just stop and take it slow?

So I think I should stop trying to find patterns in the random of life
The way things go? I'll let you know

Traffic Lights

2010-01-26T23:09:00.000+08:00

Traffic Lights

Traffic lights
The bane of my existence
We spend a quarter of our lives moving from 1 place to another
And a quarter of that waiting at traffic lights

DAMN traffic lights

In the early morning
During the rush
They slow your process

In the evening
During the eagerness to reach home
They hold back respite

And when a long friend waits
Just across the road, it turns red
Seperating you for just 2 minutes more

Traffic lights. Tsk.

They Mock!
Teasing

The mock my slow progress
They mock the very bus chair I sit on
The even mock the asphalt ground

RED RED RED RED
For god's sake,
GREEN!
RED RED RED
One more for old time's sake
Green!

I alight with no time to spare
Dashing to wait for the next bus
And of course, I run
I run with years of inexperience
Which of course takes a toll

I hurry up the next bus in time
Lucky to have even found a seat
And as they the bus pulled out of the station turning onto the highway
I thought: Have I told you how much I love the High way? heee =]

Humbling Experience

2010-01-24T00:18:00.000+08:00

I saw the hornbill before and no one believed me when I said Pasir Ris park is home to such amazing birds. I saw it fly above my head. And that was when I became extremely interested almost to the point of obsession with bird photography. With my limited resources, with my passion for photography and the effort to cycle to Pasir Ris park day after day just to try and capture this bird in action, I finally managed to capture more than just a glimpse.

I was packed up for the day. I was ready to go home. I decided for once to take the long route. My camera was in my bag, my tripod packed. I cycled along my way. And just after exiting the mangrove swamp, I hear a familiar sound. "FWAP FWAP" I look up and I was stunned. The bird that I had sought out before and was elusive as crazy just flew to the branch above me. It was a powerful bird. Like I said. I was stunned. So I stared at it until I passed under it. Then I realised. "SHIT! I have to stop!" It started flapping around and finally landed on a branch it liked. I literally jumped off my bike, and dropped my bag to the ground and tried to stay as still as possible. I prayed hard for no cyclists, no children and no skaters and no lovers. I was captivated, awe-struck, and completely humbled. The rare bird was ( ) this close from me. I contemplated then. Should I just dwell in this moment. Should I just forget about taking the picture.(I had to take out my camera, change my lens, get close enough and slow enough so that its comfortable with my presence and wait for an opportune moment to take a photo worthy of its stature) So yeah I contemplated abit. And I went back to one of my rules of photography. Don't regret missed opportunities. I dug into my bag, changed my lens stood up and snapped a few pictures. It was WORTH THE DAMN to take my time to change the lens and wait for a shot. I got a few shots in. I was staring transfixed as it kept rubbing its bill against the branch. It made a pleasant scratching sound. And like all real stories. Cyclists cycled past. Spooked the bird. It flew to a higher branch. "FWAP FWAP" Lovers walked past. Spooked the bird. Now it was quite far away from me. I had my bag down on the ground next to my bike. I approached cautiously. I saw an Owl to my left. I took aim. It flew away. I saw the hornbill fly directly above me. And with the next step, it flew away. "FWAP FWAP! glide... FWAP FWAP"

I was lucky. I was at the right place at the right time. And I am humbled. It is a powerful bird and I am glad I took out my camera(even if the picture didn't really make the cut) Shows also, that taking pictures require alot of fast thinking. Alot of on the spot decisions. I would have been perfectly fine just standing there staring at it but then I would have no picture to show. DAMN I LOVE NATURE.

Surround me with flowers
So that death would smell sweet