The Effusive Rhapsody

Power

2011-03-23T10:16:00.002+11:00

I had this very realistic dream. I wanted power. Such power till no one in the world could stand in my way. There was a cult who granted it. But at an unbearable price. We had to kill our own parents as a prelude to demonstrating our hatred to the world.

Regret.

When I transformed I couldn't control my anger. Or the destruction. The only sign of emotion that would ever emerge were tears that flowed as I screamed and killed. One of my friends who I've known since kindergarten was in the cult too. Strangely, he could restrain his anger. I begged him to warn my parents before the rest of us were sent to slaughter them. It was a success. But I would never see my parents again.

I fled. I didn't know where I was going. I just kept running. I met a circus trope with tents pitched on a hill. I bought a present and wrapped it. And then I left it to a messenger to have it delivered. I don't know whether it ever reached the person I wanted it to. But the person helping me deliver it said he'd search as long as he lived.

I continued fleeing. I was so scared the people who gave me powers would find me and shred me to pieces for abandoning them after I obtained my powers. But I never asked for all this uncontrollable hatred. Perhaps power and underlying hatred are unavoidably intertwined?

On the way, I slain a dragon three times my size. It was really easy. It felt really good. I felt pleasure. Guilt weighed down on me as the euphoria seared through my veins.

After countless dark nights, I reached a treehouse community in a rainforest. It was pouring heavily. I was naked in human form, but the reflection in the puddles showed me a terribly mutated creature. An old man called me into his house. I entered and he told me to dry myself.

I sat before him and he told me that dark times were coming. I could take refuge and hide in the treehouses forever. Or I could exit the forest and seek help instead of hiding in this leafy prison for the rest of my life. I took some time to think about it. I woke up in mornings and had cereal. I always wondered where the hell they got it from, being in the middle of the forest.

I saw dragons roaming around the forest. I tried to hide from them but they saw me, and they stared. A while after trying to hide in vain, I stared back. They asked me why I was so frightened of them when I was so powerful. I said I didn't want to kill anymore. They said no one decides that I'm a monster. Its the decisions I make that decides what I am.

I realized I haven't transformed for a long time since I arrived at the village. There was this tranquillity to it that eased those anger impulses. I looked into a mirror. My human form was now very close to normal. I decided to venture out of the forest.

The old man who gave me refuge showed me the way out. I was escorted by two men. There was a really huge dragon which guarded the exit and threatened to kill anyone who passed. I demanded to have my way through. It attacked and I retaliated brutally. Even at the brink of death I refused to transform. I would kill the dragon I was or die trying. Somehow, the three of us managed to kill the dragon. It was very hard but we made it. I walked through the exit and saw cars flying through the sky.

A futuristic city. How long as it passed since I left? I walked in the middle of the metal-paved street which was cold and empty. It seemed like no one uses these roads for transport anymore.

I walked till the end of the road. Doors to a very huge building opened. There was a blinding light and I entered. I woke up.

I looked at my phone. There were messages on it while I was asleep.

Bailey, "Still alive?"
Me, "Yea, you won't believe the dreams I just had."

Mother

2010-05-25T10:51:00.005+10:00

This is probably the worst nightmare yet, spanning over the last few days. I gave in to a cycle of hatred and ended up hurting my mum so much till she wouldn't stop crying. And all I wanted to do was to hurt her more.

I'm shocked how such unthinkably cruel thoughts lurk within my sub-conscious.

Even though it was merely a nightmare, even though the despair was illusionary, it was overwhelming enough to keep me paralysed in grief for a while. Only after the tears dried, did I take a deep breath and arose from bed.

Emotionally taxing for no apparent reason from the start of today, what a morning.

Nightmares

2010-05-23T01:36:00.003+10:00

I'm starting to believe that this place is not merely just a by-product of my imagination. I can't remember when it started appearing, but this virtual playground has long been engraved in my sub-conscious since I was a child, unchanging, unyielding to my will.

The environments seem to be in chronological order of my experiences. My house in JB, the abandoned shopping centre, the neighbourhood playground, the field and hall of my primary school, the jungle behind my secondary school, the dimly lighted, empty narrow corridors and small rooms in Hytten Hall of my university. My very first computer is always in my room, my dad's small old Honda car from over 15 years ago is still in commission, and that gold pendant that I mysteriously lost is still around my neck. It's as though certain areas stopped in time. As though those are places that I don't want to disappear. I wonder, is that a hint that I'm still holding on to the past? Or are those places so integral to forming my identity of who I really am through those memories?

When people say sweet dreams, they tend to take it for granted. They say it like good morning or hello. But to me, it's more of a wish, a prayer. I yearn for a delusion to cushion me from reality at least when I sleep. Is that too much to ask for? When I even have a chance to manifest in this other world, it's no different from real life. Things don't go according to my will, people disappoint, and life goes on. Could it be that I lack the courage to truly dream? I don't know. But one thing's for sure... I feel extremely constricted within this endless space with four invisible walls.

The first night - It was in my room. I dreamt that I completely lost my willpower to do anything and just sat in a corner in overwhelming despair and emptiness until I rotted.
The second night - It was on the footpath in front of the law faculty and between the engineering faculty. I was completely heartbroken in my sleep over rejection by a girl with an enigmatic smile, who ceased to smile at me anymore after I confessed. When I woke up my pillow was damp with tears.
The third night - I was upstairs in my JB house, aiming down and killing young children with gunshots to the head until the corpses piled up in front of me. I had no choice. They were lunging towards me with knives in hand, wearing angry, maniac smiles on their faces.

The fourth night, this night, I woke up almost immediately I stepped into that world. Why? I could see traces of blood on the stairs. The bloodstains were almost gone though, it's as though someone comes to clean up my world and restore it to its original condition when I'm awake. but it wasn't thoroughly cleaned this time. Maybe I slept very early tonight and there wasn't enough time to neutralize the residue of the previous dream? I highly doubt it, since time and space is so distorted in the world, half the time in there I'm confused and finding my way even though I know it like the back of my hand.

Wait, I take that back. I'm lost not because I can't find my way, it's more like I don't know where I want to go. Is that just a baseless assumption or do I have instincts for the truth? Or do I already know the truth and am just running from it? Like a monster, I'm afraid that if I slow down it might consume me.

Reflecting back, I think the nightmares are the result of a suppressed ego. Maybe I left a part of me in Melbourne when I went over to clear my head. That part of me seems to have somewhat found its way back. Like a dog or cat that you dumped far, far away because they were clawing at furniture non-stop and you had to put an end to that destruction no matter how attached you may feel towards them.

Suddenly I am overwhelmed by a presumption.

Perhaps, the grieving me sitting in the corner of a room was the ego I tried to leave behind. The girl with an enigmatic smile was someone or something I wanted as a part of my life, or maybe I was that girl herself. And the me who was left crying, heartbroken, was the part that didn't want to be left behind. The children who attacked me... they were me as well. They wanted to kill me because they can't accept me for not being myself. Perhaps it was a symbol of childish anger at myself for throwing away a supposedly important part of myself.

So the bloodstains, they were there to remind me that I can neither run nor hide. And me forcibly awakening was to escape from dreams into reality because I didn't want to accept that. How ironic, isn't it usually the other way around?

All of that are just presumptions. Yet, I'm compelled to think its the truth right now. So what do I do now? Sigh. I tried so hard to throw it away, am I supposed to pick up the pieces? So either way, I'm haunted or start back from square one. Awesome.

After all that can be said, there's one thing left to do.

Sweet dreams.

Hot Chocolate

2010-05-20T20:26:00.007+10:00

I resolved to finish the assignment by the end of this week, but the surreal realism of Haruki Murakami sunk into my heart. I'm sorry, that's an excuse. I just plain don't care about third world countries being economically oppressed. It's boring, it doesn't concern me at a time like this. Not while my there's a 5.5 tremor on the Richter scale rocking my world.

Yet, it just suddenly hit me. I'm so preoccupied with existing, too busy to even live out my life. I wanted to write a story, learn how to play the harmonica, perfectly hone my badminton skills, or even just finish a video game...

But it all comes down to me. So scared of an academic death that don't even dare to live. Deep inside I just build a wall, praying someone will care enough to break it down and liberate me. It's quite a selfish thought though, isn't it? Wanting people to reach out to me, yet sometimes I can't be bothered to reach out to another.

I remember the hazelnut hot chocolate I had last weekend in Melbourne. The stark contrast of the warmth of the cup mildly scalding my cold fingertips. I remember how the thick, rich liquid scorched its way down my throat. How I desperately pried open the cover and puffed lightly into the drink so it would fog up my glasses, warming my neck and earlobes in the process. As if all of that weren't enough warmth, I obliged a greedy impulse to take a gulp, knowing well enough it would burn my tongue.

A sharp surge of pain snapped me out from my post-flight lethargy. That's right. I came to Melbourne alone to take a breather from my violently turbulent emotions. I used to neatly pack my problems in a box, then shelve it into a compartment in my heart. What a great, mature way to handle things, I thought to myself. But this approach is kinda like making notes throughout the semester. First you start of neatly, then it gets sloppier as lectures get boring, in the end you don't even turn up for the lectures. It doesn't take much foresight to guess what happens next. Just a couple of months, those boxes tower up like this half-played tall UNO Stacko structure, with people and circumstances threatening to poke out a piece each turn. Her aloofness, failing evidence, grandpa's death, along with other uncertainties and regrets... my attitude lately was as if an unreasonable child emerged in front of the emotional UNO stack and with a kick, smashed the whole structure to pieces.

Pitiful and tragic? I must confess, I was the unreasonable child himself. I was the one who kicked down my very own UNO stacko. I was responsible for driving myself into a corner.

I had to take responsibility for my own decisions.

Well, it would been better that way, I thought. Better to chain myself up privately and break down, instead of bottling it up and eventually lashing out erratically at friends. I'd rather get hurt than hurt others. Though naive, that was my principle.

And what should I then do? If I gather the pieces and start building from scratch again, it's only a matter of time before it gets torn down again. I sit there, looking at the pieces scattered all over. What a mess. Well, I'll get Ibsen to clean up after me. So I went to Melbourne. Even the hot chocolate was on him. Well, that's what friends are for, right? Haha... okay I feel bad.

Speaking of the drink, I guess the way I used to be in love was like downing hot chocolate in a go. Knowing I'll get burnt, then hurt, then paralysed, and finally end up in a totally helpless emotional state. Guys like me only know one way of doing things, and that's giving it your all. It's true that everything should be taken in moderation... everything but passion. I don't see the point of loving half-heartedly... nor am I capable of doing such a thing. Passion in moderation, how self-defeating. :S

So... not wanting to get hurt again... I sealed my heart. Somewhere along the passage of time, I adhered to the norm how adults rationalize everything. The pride that I put down for love, I picked it up once again, though.. unwillingly. For the sake of instilling artificial confidence within myself. Fake, I know, but it's better than nothing. Or so I thought. Rather, I should think so.

What happened to those rebellious days when I would go against the entire world for what I believed in? What happened to the me who would passionately cry, wholeheartedly, as I struggled? It's a strange admission to make that I miss those days.

Now I stare at the boxes of problems once again. If I pile them up, they'll fall down again. Maybe, instead of waiting for the flow of time to biodegrade them into harmless memories... maybe I should dismantle and resolve them. It'll be very hard and I might just make a bigger mess than get rid of it.

But maybe, just maybe...

There's this saying that if you wish for something, it's still highly unlikely to come true. Yet, compared to not wishing at all... a spark of hope is enough for someone in the darkness of despair to cling on to.

Okay, time to start reading up for that stupid assignment.

In The Shower

2009-12-16T03:22:00.004+11:00

It's unfortunate how we take simple yet meaningful things for granted. Like lazing around on a Saturday afternoon, hanging out with friends till late, or watching a good movie that actually gave you some insight. Why do we do those things? Fun, fun, fun. Happiness seems to be like a fashion that never goes out of trend. Friends tell each other that they shouldn't do this, or should do that. 'Oh well. As long as they're happy.'

As long as it makes you happy? Is that really all that there is to it?

I normally take longer than usual to shower than most It's is just a moment of meditation and prayer for me. It's amazing. How it amplifies your excitement, intensifies your fear, deepens your sadness and elevates your bliss a few more levels.

I reflect a lot when I'm in the shower. It's my personal time of getting in touch with myself, or who at least try to remember the person I'm meant to be. Today I reflected upon the graduation of my friends. I wondered how they'd be in a few years time. That feeling of meeting up in the future to talk about the past. I realised there were people I'd miss and people I wouldn't miss. It wasn't that some meant more to me than others. It's just that people like my a couple of high school friends, or university friends like Roy, Ibsen and Stefenie would always keep in contact so it didn't matter that much. those people are the kind you can meet up after a couple of years and chat like it was just yesterday. As fond as I am of her, deep inside I accept the painful truth that people like her will only retain memories of me, leaving everything else behind.

Maybe that's why I miss friends like those so much. Because when you say goodbye, it really is goodbye. I know I won't see them again.

Spreading Butter

2009-12-08T08:02:00.009+11:00

I had a dream last night. It wasn't a perfect world, but one that was a little better than the one we lived in.

Everything around me was unbelievable. A Chinese became the prime minister of Malaysia, Eva went broke and worked as a maid in my house, my dad became very good at expressing his feelings, and I worked as a successful lawyer.

But I didn't realize I was in a dream until I woke up early at 7 plus for breakfast, and realized... that the butter wouldn't spread properly on my bread.

Butter in granules? That's impossible.

Funny, isn't it? Being oblivious to the obvious and catch on to the little details instead. It's like Harry Potter catching the snitch in his shoot-the-ball-through-a-hoop-on-a-flying-broom game. Why he catches something so small and fast instead of the bigger balls remains a mystery to me.

Anyway, why have I trailed on like that? The desire for me to record everything and yet not get to the main point, maybe that's why I don't do well in exams.

Alright, the main point. Eva. She grew up a lot after she was forced to work as a maid in my house. She developed to be the dignified yet kind type, a strange combination. And she lost weight too! Why was she so ostracized in my dream? Perhaps it had something to do with being resentful after she condemned me having the mentality of a 18 year old boy before I went to bed; that actually coming from the girl with uncontrollable hormones fuelling an excitable personality which made her like a 15 year old.

Anyway, for me to have a dream like that to get back at her, maybe she was right in a way. But where was I? Ah yes, Eva. My best friend fell in love with her and they got together. Things got complicated because she worked in my house. Although I'm usually the keep-things-simple kind of guy, this one fascinated me. When I looked at her and pondered, she always gave me a gentle, caring smile, like Alice (who would then go 'meh si?'), instead of that 'stop looking at me you pervert' glaze.

Eventually, I fell in love with her too. Personally, this was perhaps the most unbelievable thing in my dream compared to reality.

Everything in the alternate reality fell apart after my realization with spreading butter. The world fell into a gloomy mood, as if it was reluctant to let me go. Or was me who was reluctant to leave? Anyway, Eva interrupted me.

"Your dad wants to talk to you."

"Um, ok."

I walked to the living room.

"Sup dad?"

"Richard, this thing between you and Eva, you've got to stop. She's together with your best friend."

"This is a dream."

He opened his mouth but was too surprised to say anything. Cliché, huh? I must have a poor imagination for my sub-conscious to churn out something so stereotypic. Anyway...

"First of all, yes it's a dream. But that's not the point. The important thing is, my dad would wish for my happiness above everyone else, sometimes even when it's a little selfish. Because he loves me that much. Besides, mum said she left another guy for dad. I don't think my real dad is that hypocritical."

The illusion vanished.

Everything else around me in the house started to dissolve. Like gas.

Except her.

"Hey Eva."

She smiled. Man, that smile was so unreal. Eva. Gentle. Sweet. Those things don't match. Either that, or there's a part of her I don't know yet. Strangely, deep inside I was pinning for the latter.

She continued smiling. Like she was saying a silent goodbye.

"I don't know why I bother saying this, it's a dream, and confessing this is still talking to myself."

I felt bad to belittle things in that dream. Yes, it was an illusion. Yes, I felt confused and lashed out, condemning everything around as being fake. But it made me guilty. It was as though I was being ungrateful to this world which was so kind to me regardless of itself knowingly of not being real. Perhaps some of it were even reflections of my desires.

I continued talking.

"... but I want you to know that I always cared for you, it wasn't because you were nice in this dream. I assume you know how Eva treats me in real life. Yet, I'm not kind to her because I have to, it's because I want to."

I didn't think she bought that. A tear rolled down her cheek. I could tell by then that she was straining herself to smile continually like that, struggling to retain that beauty before me until the very end. Christ, even an illusion is trying so hard to be strong. I smiled inside, knowing that the real Eva would cringe her face and give me an awkward look instead to such words of mine.

I frowned. At that moment, the scales of truth outweighed reluctance for me.

"Eva, there's something you should know. You probably already do, because you're a part of my sub-conscious, but I still feel I have to say it."

I sighed.

"The reason I'm so kind to you in reality is because I went through your hard drive. Yes, I'm sorry to have invaded your privacy and yes, I read your MSN conversation 'worst day of my life' with John. I understand if you hate me for it. But I don't regret doing it. I discovered how he cheated on you and slept with another girl. I'm sure you cried your heart out too, but unlike most other girls, you didn't lose yourself or lash out furiously and reply with some self-serving love quote like 'how could you do this to me' or 'I don't deserve something like this'. Instead, you remained strong to the very end. Not just for his sake, not for your pride, but for the both of you. Because your time together really meant something. You offered him another chance. You showed warmth and forgiveness when it was needed the most. And forgiveness is the most tender part of love. And to someone who in my opinion, didn't really deserve it."

"I realized only then that your heart was only pretending to be cold and harsh to the outside world. And that sometimes by doing so it hurts you as well. But you had to, that's one of your few emotional defences against getting hurt. It's stupid, but I cried myself to sleep that night because I was very touched. It was always about me before that. People not appreciating, people returning unkindness for sincerity. You made me realize that I wasn't the only one. And somehow I feel so much more deeply for your sadness compared to my own, as though my own sadness was nothing. You're capable of loving faithfully, dependably, steadfast, unlike most girls your age who waver easily. It's something people would never guess from your bubbly personality. That there's a deep richness in your love, something you don't reveal to the outside world. Something you preserve exclusively for the one you're waiting for. I feel like we're the same type sometimes, and I take care of you because I feel protective of my own kind. You remind me a lot about myself in that sense. Deep inside, you're actually a good person. As good as God intended you to be. That's who you are in the real world."

Her face beamed, thriving on that moment, as though her existence was gambled on that confession. The real Eva might have murdered me after such a confession.

I gave her a fond pat on the head, as though I would pat Eva in real life, who would then back off away from my hand with hostility. I felt that she deserved to be treated equally, even though she was an illusion. Usually I'd just disregard and say goodbye, like a child who's lost interest after he discovered a magic trick isn't really magic after all.

When I felt her head, I woke up clutching my phone. Sleepily I checked the time. 7.49am. I noticed that someone sent me a message after I lamented to him about Eva's mistreatment the night before.

'Just love. Everything else will work itself out."

Dad

2009-12-07T23:42:00.003+11:00

I was told that it takes equally as much to follow as it takes to lead.
Generally, I am the follower. I'm loyal. I'm devoted. I'm obedient. I follow through with perseverance when I'm required to.

Mum disagreed.

"You have to develop leadership qualities."

"Why? I'm happy enough with following. I don't think I was cut out to be leader anyway."

"But you must. Whether you like it or not, there will be times in life when you have to lead. You will eventually, in some way, lead by example in work or your social life, or as a proper husband, or as a father."

"Dad is a terrible leader."

"But he is your father."

"And I love him. Isn't that enough?"

"Would you want your children to think that about you? Is that enough?"

"... no. I want to be someone they'll look up to."

"Then you have to do it."

"I still don't think..."

"Be strong, darling."

"Ok..."

My Deepest Secret

2009-10-14T08:52:00.004+11:00

I wish I could tell somebody even though my heart is sealed. I wish someone will listen to me even when I don't talk. I wish someone would understand me even though I build a wall around my life. Yet, when it really comes down to it, it's not about me.

I wish for her a beautiful life...

How many of us are patient enough to weather the pouring tears of sky until they see a bright blue smile?

I may hide my emotions by accusing the rainbow of being illusory, but I can't deny the sunshine being so real and warm.

Even if I wait for a tomorrow of nothing, surely these feelings will give rise to something?

Isn't that why we repeat the same mistakes, hoping to break new ground?

Even if I am condemned of hopeless delusions, my heart burns with everlasting passion... so deeply and real.

Hopefully, one day in the future I'll look up to the sky and realise that, perhaps it could be painted in a different colour.

Even then, alternate paths are diluting the truth, hiding the answers I seek.

Time may slip through my fingers like the wind, but I won't let go of these promises.

No matter how weak my spirit will become, my heart will always stretch out earnestly.

If nothing did change, then why are things now so different?

If it really hurts so much, then why do i still hold on?

And, despite being deprived of hope, why do emotions still overflow?

We think that tears are such bitter things, yet why does it feel so warm?

I won't give up till I find my answer.

Marriage and Responsibility

2009-09-22T16:05:00.003+10:00

Marriage. I wondered whether the previous generation was being more careful than my generation, or perhaps simply more selfish. I feel sorry for my generation, the apathy is overwhelming. Maybe that’s why it’s ever so important to find a loving relationship with someone, because so much of today’s culture does not give you that.

Another dimension of marriage is mutual therapy. That’s why it can also be so painful. If you really want to understand your partner, it isn’t enough to discuss things rationally. You have to 'dig wells'.

A portrayal of marriage is brilliant work. It’s ridiculous to think that two people who fall in love and get married are then going to live happily ever after. People get depressed after they get married because they marry on that assumption. In such a perception, you get married to suffer—to dig a well. It isn’t any fun to dig a well. So, why do people even bother?

Because even as an important perspective, it isn't the main thing.

Some people get married and divorced over and over, three or four times. Generally speaking, people like that balk at 'digging a well'. They find it painful, so instead of digging they keep looking for new people. But usually they end up with the same sort of person.

There are even people who divorce and marry someone else, but then end up remarrying the first person. They’re just repeating the same pattern over and over. In the old days, marriage was just two people cooperating. If they did that until they died, then it was considered to have been a good marriage. It’s too unfortunate… these days, people want to understand one another, not simply work together.

But if you want to understand one another, you HAVE to dig a well.

The poor kids today, either they're too selfish to take part in a real loving relationship, or they rush into marriage and then months to years later, they get divorced. They don't what they want in a partner. They don’t even know who they are themselves, so how can they know who they're marrying?

Well, maybe you don’t after all.

You get tested. You find out who you are, who the other person is, and how you accommodate or don't. There isn’t some kind of rule to know if a marriage is going to work. Things are not that simple. But there are a few rules true about love and marriage.
If you don't respect the other person, you're gonna have a lot of trouble.
If you don't know how to compromise, you're gonna have a lot of trouble.
If you can't talk openly about what goes on between you, you're gonna have a lot of trouble.
And if you don't have a common set of values in life, you're gonna have a lot of trouble. Your values must be alike.
And the biggest one of those values? Your belief in the importance of your marriage.

There are plenty of cases in which a wife, tries to understand her husband but ultimately decides that she simply can’t. Sometimes, after living together a long time on the assumption that she understands him, she’ll all of a sudden realize that she doesn’t. To start over and try to understand him again is very hard. In most cases, she’ll just criticize him, saying he doesn’t understand anything or concluding that all men are worthless.

What really strikes me about Westernized couples is that as long as they stay together, they’re really intimate and inseparable. Some of them hold hands wherever they go. But when they break up, it’s all over… just like that. You almost never see couples who stay together even though they don’t love each other, for the children’s sake or whatever, as in most Asian couples.

Why? Westernized couples have trouble believing in the reality of their relationship. They feel compelled to fawn over each other because they always have to be making sure they’re really in love. Otherwise they feel very insecure. And if they fail to confirm their love, then they break up… just like that.

In Asian couples, to put it in a favourable light, the husband and wife somehow sympathize with one another even without needing to reassure one another. I believe that’s a more interesting kind of marriage.

Because there is depth in a relationship.

In the West, there’s always this premise of romantic love. Romantic love doesn’t last very long. If you want to sustain romantic love for any length of time, you can’t have sexual relations. It’s impossible to sustain romantic love for a long period of time while engaging in sexual relations. So if you want to maintain the marital relationship, you have to be willing to move it to a different dimension.

Even though the sexual relationship also has a therapeutic function, at some point, though, you have to switch to a different type of therapy. That’s when the well digging becomes necessary. Perhaps, in youth, the sexual relationship is terribly important, but after a while, it’s just not enough any more.

And people who can’t switch to 'well digging' at that point will try to find therapy elsewhere. The other thing you often see is people who simply abandon the idea of expanding their world through relations with the opposite sex. They channel their energy into something else. Someone might become a scholar and conduct exhaustive research into a particular subject. If you direct your energy towards a woman, you’re dealing with a living human being, which raises all kinds of complications.

Or else you work like crazy at the office.

There are an awful lot of people who direct their energy to something other than a living human being. Though it is tempting, you can’t really say that one way is better for everyone. You really can't. Ultimately, it’s a matter of how they want to live. It may be that only a minority of people are capable of investing a great deal in marriage. I personally think it’s the only way for me to live remarkably to the fullest, because it’s not a life lived alone.

People realize there’s no perfect answer in marriage, and that there are things and emotions that are beyond their control. Compulsive drives often go misunderstood and undiscussed. It’s because a person with such energy makes a strong statement that he or she is very much alive. Beneath the behavioural façade, it may reflect the contrary… when you overdo work, television, games, travelling, parties and other avenues of escape, there is an underlying message. Perhaps they are sub-consciously trying to tell each other something, but choose extremes to send the message.

After all, It doesn’t take much to perceive what those unexpressed feelings are.

-Entails of Haruki Murakami and Mitch Albom

Lost Season

2009-09-04T21:55:00.009+10:00

Slowly but surely, winter is fading away, replaced with a tinge of warmth in the air. Somehow though, it's getting colder inside me. Is it because my foolish pride won't even tolerate self-pity? I don't know... I bury my head and hug my knees, wondering for an answer...

...

Wandering for an answer...

Even as I relentlessly pursue that strength to overcome myself, scattered thoughts manage to sneak inside. And yet, I wonder, is such perseverance too stubborn for words? Even when people turn their eyes from me, mine still try to watch their backs... even if their backs are all they show me, as they walk away. It's like being amidst the crashing crescendos of the waves against my feet, and yet, somehow, my heart won't budge. Even the wind blowing towards the sea seems to know better... to not to get lost today and head towards tomorrow.

But I don't want to talk about it.

If I say what I want, people push unreasonable demands onto me, rendering my emotions useless. So I retreat from the stereotypic facade. And yet, I wonder... am I in fact the one being unreasonable?

Love is...

2009-08-24T21:13:00.003+10:00

Love is...

The restless ram finding stability not strange.
Having the stubborn bull embracing change.
Fickle twins talk less and becomes discreet.
As the tenacious Crab fights instead of retreats.
Gradually the lion has its fiery character tamed.
Shy Virgo learns that constipation is not a shame.
The scales discover harmony is but part of revelation.
So will the silent scorpion discipline itself in moderation.
When the archer stops shooting arrows of brutal truth.
The goat might show warmth instead of being aloof.
Watching the water bearer go such great lengths,
The fish resolves its dreams in true strength.

It's Funny

2009-08-21T03:37:00.003+10:00

It's funny how you people think I'm emo when I finally control my own emotions.

Of Flesh & Spirit

2009-08-19T00:05:00.006+10:00

Last week, I went to this christian fellowship that's held on Friday nights. There were lots of potato chips, laughter, jokes and games before they really got down to bible study, which was what I went for in the first place.

There was this discussion about our this constant wrestling match between our earthly desires and the Holy Spirit inside us. How do we know what is the right choice? Someone said the correct decision is usually the harder one.

I wondered to myself... would it be harder to gather the courage and confess your feelings to someone; or bottle up and hold back those overwhelming feelings?

What would be the right thing to do? What do I even want to do- I don't know.

Maybe I'll go back next week. Maybe they'll have an answer. Maybe not. Either way, this time I'll go an hour after it begins.

"Have I told you about the tension of opposites?" he says.

The tension of opposites?

"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted.

"A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."

Sounds like a wrestling match, I say.

"A wrestling match." He laughs. "Yes, you could describe life that way."

So which side wins, I ask? "Which side wins?"

He smiles at me, the crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth.

"Love wins. Love always wins."

Hope

2009-08-15T03:25:00.008+10:00

If you can see something and wish for it, that's not hope.

Hope goes beyond your imagination, it's investing your spirit into the uncertainty of the future.

Sometimes we wish God didn't give us circumstances. Some wish to stay back one more year in university with friends. Some wish career opportunities to come their way after graduation. Some wish we didn't love someone who wasn't worth it because it hurt too much. Some wish they had the courage to love even if it meant that their heart would be broken.

I wish none of this had happened.

Such are the emotions of those to live in difficult times, but that isn't for them to decide.

All that we have to decide, is what to do... with the circumstances which are given to us.

On this day, Morrie says he has an exercise for us to try. We are to stand, facing away from our classmates, and fall backward, relying on another student to catch us. Most of us are uncomfortable with this, and we cannot let go for more than a few inches before stopping ourselves. We laugh in embarrassment.

Finally, one student, a thin, quiet, dark-haired girl whom I notice almost always wears bulky white fisherman sweaters, crosses her arms over her chest, closes her eyes, leans back, and does not flinch, like one of those Lipton tea commercials where the model splashes into the pool. For a moment, I am sure she is going to thump on the floor. At the last instant, her assigned partner grabs her head and shoulders and yanks her up harshly.

"Whoa!" several students yell. Some clap.

Morrie finally smiles.

"You see," he says to the girl, "you closed your eyes. That was the difference. Sometimes you cannot believe what you see, you have to believe what you feel. And if you are ever going to have other people trust you, you must feel that you can trust them, too—even when you’re in the dark. Even when you’re falling."

A Little Bit of Happiness

2009-08-12T02:03:00.003+10:00

People... humanity pursues the existence of happiness. What I really wanted, was a tiny bit of happiness.

It's nothing special.

At the very least, the spark that triggered my actions, was just a tiny wish that every human has. That dream, that vow... does everyone not have them as well? People, are judged, because they are linked to others and the world, whether they like it or not.

That is their fate.

In that case, when personal feelings face off into the world, it is treated as nothing than a pointless, misty existence.

Sin and punishment.

Fate and judgment.

That which stands between us, is the past which we forged. Is that... the hatred part of human nature? Even so, I guess I can be thankful now. Because, at the very least, we humans chase after the existence of happiness. The ray of hope, a vague wish... something which can only spark from despair.

Wipe away those tears under the mask.

Unread Story.

2009-08-10T11:38:00.002+10:00

you are my story.
unread story.
where does my passion hide its feelings?

Deeply In Love

2009-08-06T00:03:00.000+10:00

No, no no! I am not.

God Knows

2009-07-12T01:10:00.005+10:00

I run past others with a parched heart.
Sorry, I can't do anything.
You won't even let me
Share our pain together.

To live on without tarnish,
I face your back and head out without looking back
On the lonely rail

I will follow you.
No matter how agonizing the world is,
You will shine even in it's darkest corners.
Cross over the end of the future,
My weakness will not shatter my spirit.
My way is overlapping with yours.
For the two of us, God bless...

This warming affection that reaches me,
It melts my reality and roams my heart.
I don't need a reason for wanting to meet you,
Just my overflowing feelings, Lovin' you

For now, let's paint a beautiful dream
And chase after
For your lonely heart

You are here, I am here.
Everyone else has disappeared.
While we paint the beauty of this fleeting dream,
We trace out the lines of our scars.

Stop it, it's not like you to lie.
Look at my eyes and let's talk about our future.
I am prepared,
Even if the future is bleak,
I might be able to change destiny if I become stronger.
But for my wish to come true,
Everything is God knows...

A Simple Melody

2009-07-04T17:45:00.004+10:00

A close libra friend blessed with the gift of beauty and music. Her soothing voice tides me over cold, lonely, raining evenings like this one. Sincere appreciation and thanks to her melancholic crescendos.

Torn between two places at one time

2009-07-04T17:19:00.003+10:00

The choice has been made, so why do I still look back?
Do we call those dreams because they cannot be fulfilled?
Like the rainbow, is it just a beautiful illusion?
I believe that the pot of gold isn't found at the end, it is earned.
Something earned throughout the journey.
Most importantly, do I still remember how to love?

New year's eve

2009-01-01T01:38:00.001+11:00

At some random place with a reverse bungee attraction

Bored

2008-01-26T17:33:00.001+11:00

Another lazy saturday afternoon