All fixed, fast, and now alone.. Suspended between the balance of past and present... Frozen relations; an epitome of a stagnant love. Venerable preconceived judgments and convictions are all swept away, all new formed ones become antiquated before they could even ossify... All that is one has broken into pieces, all that is holy is profaned, and last I am compelled to face reason right in the face... The reason of being alone...
Chagrined by the very person I once hold dear. I realised that I am nothing more than just a footnote in her chapter of life... Insignificant is the word, the very one word that describes me in her life. Brokened is another word, the very word that describes me and now... I thought I have pieced myself again, carried whats remained of my heart and soul to another place. But when I saw them again, I lost grip of what's remained...
Alone... Once part of a great pantheon of mighty thought and symbols, the allegory of supremacy. A conformation of like ideas and disparate ideology, vast and variant like the eternal cosmos... Verdant and virile - a furcated morphemes, the very building blocks of sentience and civilization... I have transcended time and I am now in the very basic stage of life, the stage of being alone...
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Masquerade of Life
All of us are in this grand masquerade, among the throng of people, we seek expectantly... We often would come across people in various facade, people that wants to know us because of ulterior motives and intentions... But at times, we also come across people without masks, people that faces us with true and pure disposition. Whenever we met someone veracious and immaculate, we find ourselves unknowingly removing our societal masks too... That electrifying trice of truth, that very moment of self discovery...
Before this revelation, we were drifting aimlessly, not knowing what we really wanted. We searched high and low for someone who could at least understand us, someone who is able to befriend us regardless of all the generic masks we wear. And when we met this particular person, we may realise that what we really want is not what we have wished for in the first place. Friends and soul mates does not come in a standard template, and more often than not they may not have been what we are expecting all along...
Fate is not something meant to be forced upon, and my body is absorbing it day by day. What is yours will eventually come to your arms; what is not yours will never come to be. In any case, I should not lose heart and give up on hopes for love that is true, good and beautiful.
The value of life, in a certain sense, is determined by the maturity of how we love. Of how we give and accept love. I guess, letting go is also a way of giving love...
Before this revelation, we were drifting aimlessly, not knowing what we really wanted. We searched high and low for someone who could at least understand us, someone who is able to befriend us regardless of all the generic masks we wear. And when we met this particular person, we may realise that what we really want is not what we have wished for in the first place. Friends and soul mates does not come in a standard template, and more often than not they may not have been what we are expecting all along...
Fate is not something meant to be forced upon, and my body is absorbing it day by day. What is yours will eventually come to your arms; what is not yours will never come to be. In any case, I should not lose heart and give up on hopes for love that is true, good and beautiful.
The value of life, in a certain sense, is determined by the maturity of how we love. Of how we give and accept love. I guess, letting go is also a way of giving love...
Friday, January 11, 2008
The "Right" World
Along the paper race and quest for knowledge, we got transfixed into the rigid education system of getting things "right". In school we are taught the rights and wrongs, but to what extend do we confer right from wrong? Who are we in the first place to even say something is right? It's astounding how many people in this current day and age are still consuming knowledge at book value, without doubts or questions...
An assemblage and combination of thoughts into a unitary whole, forms a sentence. The formulation of words and the subsets of topological space gives birth to something we call textbooks... Yet through the ravages of time, these thoughts and ideas just corrode and oxidize into older editions. Edition 2's replacing Edition 1's only to be supplanted by another Edition 3's...
The thought of idea itself becoming obsolete is rather intriguing and at the same time intimidating. For knowledge itself is the very definition of cornucopia. And yet the information from this horn itself has an expiry date tagged in fine prints... It shouldn't be this way...
Just because we are told something is right, it doesn't necessarily be right... This "right" world we are living in, could have been a big mistake right in the very first place...
An assemblage and combination of thoughts into a unitary whole, forms a sentence. The formulation of words and the subsets of topological space gives birth to something we call textbooks... Yet through the ravages of time, these thoughts and ideas just corrode and oxidize into older editions. Edition 2's replacing Edition 1's only to be supplanted by another Edition 3's...
The thought of idea itself becoming obsolete is rather intriguing and at the same time intimidating. For knowledge itself is the very definition of cornucopia. And yet the information from this horn itself has an expiry date tagged in fine prints... It shouldn't be this way...
Just because we are told something is right, it doesn't necessarily be right... This "right" world we are living in, could have been a big mistake right in the very first place...
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
9
Somehow, whenever I see this number on a date or a calender, it reminds me of her... Stuck in between the number of losing her and them being together. I got lost on the path to recovery...
Sentimental some says, stupid to others, but that is just me... Everyone says it will happen give it time, there is someone better for you out there. That seems like so much sympathetic eloquent and insincere rhetoric, like they just know who I will run into and what I am looking for. Maybe its easy for most people to just give their hearts and emotions away but not for me. I don’t know what I need anymore for that or how to find someone if I did. The part of me that had that ability is long gone, the player if it were has been retired along the time my heart emptied, and I can’t get back into that life style even if I wanted to. I could only give when I am full, but now, there's nothing within me, only that lingering pain and perhaps betrayal...
I feel destined to be alone, that now I am actually moving forward instead of backward or staying still. I am no longer just a rock in the river of time. Perhaps its better this way, you don’t feel obligated to be there for someone, you don’t have to feel concerned for someone else’s well being, you can make your own decisions and just move on with life and what ever happens only affects you. But somehow, this emptiness just consumes me whenever I'm alone and not doing things...
By the time this entry is done, it's now 10... The anniversary of losing her is over, and their commemoration of togetherness has just begun...
Sentimental some says, stupid to others, but that is just me... Everyone says it will happen give it time, there is someone better for you out there. That seems like so much sympathetic eloquent and insincere rhetoric, like they just know who I will run into and what I am looking for. Maybe its easy for most people to just give their hearts and emotions away but not for me. I don’t know what I need anymore for that or how to find someone if I did. The part of me that had that ability is long gone, the player if it were has been retired along the time my heart emptied, and I can’t get back into that life style even if I wanted to. I could only give when I am full, but now, there's nothing within me, only that lingering pain and perhaps betrayal...
I feel destined to be alone, that now I am actually moving forward instead of backward or staying still. I am no longer just a rock in the river of time. Perhaps its better this way, you don’t feel obligated to be there for someone, you don’t have to feel concerned for someone else’s well being, you can make your own decisions and just move on with life and what ever happens only affects you. But somehow, this emptiness just consumes me whenever I'm alone and not doing things...
By the time this entry is done, it's now 10... The anniversary of losing her is over, and their commemoration of togetherness has just begun...
Monday, January 7, 2008
Supply Chain
The only time I last saw a supply chain was when I am working in a factory... At that time, my perception of it was just a mundane, lifeless job. A profession that requires precision and zero creation. But threading along the belts of despondency, I found that we are indeed just a metaphor of a supply chain called life...
As experience hosts me over a 22 years peregrinate, I am exalted by the wide array of emotions and lessons life has delivered upon me. As the trucks of fate arrived, they bring in different packages and some suitcases along with it. These cargo comes in all shapes and sizes, some are heavier than the others, some are sealed tighter, but they are all labeled differently. Some came tagged with one word; Sadness, Pain, Happiness, Regrets... Some came in phrases; Happiness in Disguise, The best way out is always through, Only through groundlessness will I inevitably grow, Make your life a mission - Not an intermission. Some came in really long sentences like one I recently received; Life is interesting precisely because we have to battle all kinds of ups and downs.
All these packages came from various suppliers; companies called friends, acquaintences, crushes, love, family and many more. They are loaded upon the conveyer belt of time and moved at an immutable pace. These little conveyor belts fed into a bigger belt, like streams feeding into a powerful river. Every moment, every second, these streams of fate flow and delivers to me its boxed product. But that is just part of this supply chain...
As these parcels of life reached me, I consume them, kept them, destroyed them. But regardless of what I do, they have made me the way I am. The endless stream of packages life can deliver never stops, from delivery to consumption, the cycle continues... It never ends... I call it "Life's Symphony" in multiple motility - with no finale. It just keeps playing, as long as I live.
As experience hosts me over a 22 years peregrinate, I am exalted by the wide array of emotions and lessons life has delivered upon me. As the trucks of fate arrived, they bring in different packages and some suitcases along with it. These cargo comes in all shapes and sizes, some are heavier than the others, some are sealed tighter, but they are all labeled differently. Some came tagged with one word; Sadness, Pain, Happiness, Regrets... Some came in phrases; Happiness in Disguise, The best way out is always through, Only through groundlessness will I inevitably grow, Make your life a mission - Not an intermission. Some came in really long sentences like one I recently received; Life is interesting precisely because we have to battle all kinds of ups and downs.
All these packages came from various suppliers; companies called friends, acquaintences, crushes, love, family and many more. They are loaded upon the conveyer belt of time and moved at an immutable pace. These little conveyor belts fed into a bigger belt, like streams feeding into a powerful river. Every moment, every second, these streams of fate flow and delivers to me its boxed product. But that is just part of this supply chain...
As these parcels of life reached me, I consume them, kept them, destroyed them. But regardless of what I do, they have made me the way I am. The endless stream of packages life can deliver never stops, from delivery to consumption, the cycle continues... It never ends... I call it "Life's Symphony" in multiple motility - with no finale. It just keeps playing, as long as I live.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Lost In Translation
At times we deviate from our norms in life, at times we became people we thought we wouldn't be or never would be... At moments like these, we usually forgot who we are, searching to escape the realism that binds us and our conscience... Lost in the translation of thoughts and emotions...
Emancipated from the thorny grips of love... Enraptured by the rhetorical figure of incongruousness along an inebriated staid. I was mangled by the very temptation of thoughts itself... Along the masquarades of masks I see, are people crying out for effectual actions. Yet succoring them in their hour of need is the derogatory connotations of being in a stupor. Hanging in the balance of righteousness and the thought of reprisal, I can't help but wax along the frequency of disconcertion.
I'm messed up I know, but whenever I am possessed by such deconstructionist thoughts, I just can't seem to find a word or reason for everything anymore...
Emancipated from the thorny grips of love... Enraptured by the rhetorical figure of incongruousness along an inebriated staid. I was mangled by the very temptation of thoughts itself... Along the masquarades of masks I see, are people crying out for effectual actions. Yet succoring them in their hour of need is the derogatory connotations of being in a stupor. Hanging in the balance of righteousness and the thought of reprisal, I can't help but wax along the frequency of disconcertion.
I'm messed up I know, but whenever I am possessed by such deconstructionist thoughts, I just can't seem to find a word or reason for everything anymore...
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Numbers...
In my life, I’ve never been one that really gambles or took any sides in a game of chance, except of course, the yearly affair of New Year gambling… But today, I found myself standing in front of the Singapore Pools booth, buying Toto… It’s the second time I actually bought 7 numbers. 7 numbers that actually meant something to me…
I shaded the boxes and all only to find out at the counter I shaded erroneously… Embarrassed, I asked the staff how it should be done… I could still remember the last time I bought the numbers because of her… The date we got together, the approximate time we first kissed… Though the result never strike a single digit… But somehow I still seek solace in the fact that it’s only a try in the numbers intertwined in our relationship.
But today, I really don’t know why am I here… Queuing with all these people, right in front of the super mart, and right at the very same booth I 1st queued for our numbers… Just that this time the numbers are not the same… 09 11 20 07 The very date our relationship ended. 22:42, the time of the message she sent that carries the connotation of breaking up... and 30 the number of days in the month of November…
Striking the lottery has always been the last thing on my mind, but somehow I still bought it… These numbers that meant so much to me are now digitized into a piece of pink slip… How I wish I could also digitized my pain away… Perhaps, the numbers I bought are not for any monetary gains, but a form of cerebral respite. Perhaps, what I’m looking for is not the exact numbers to be on the television screen, but an answer to all that’s left me broken…
I shaded the boxes and all only to find out at the counter I shaded erroneously… Embarrassed, I asked the staff how it should be done… I could still remember the last time I bought the numbers because of her… The date we got together, the approximate time we first kissed… Though the result never strike a single digit… But somehow I still seek solace in the fact that it’s only a try in the numbers intertwined in our relationship.
But today, I really don’t know why am I here… Queuing with all these people, right in front of the super mart, and right at the very same booth I 1st queued for our numbers… Just that this time the numbers are not the same… 09 11 20 07 The very date our relationship ended. 22:42, the time of the message she sent that carries the connotation of breaking up... and 30 the number of days in the month of November…
Striking the lottery has always been the last thing on my mind, but somehow I still bought it… These numbers that meant so much to me are now digitized into a piece of pink slip… How I wish I could also digitized my pain away… Perhaps, the numbers I bought are not for any monetary gains, but a form of cerebral respite. Perhaps, what I’m looking for is not the exact numbers to be on the television screen, but an answer to all that’s left me broken…
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