Sunday bloody sundays.

Well I woke up Sunday morning,
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes,
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
An' I shaved my face and combed my hair,
An' stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my brain the night before,
On cigarettes and songs I'd been pickin'.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid,
Cussin' at a can that he was kicking.
Then I crossed the empty street,
'n caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin' chicken.
And it took me back to somethin',
That I'd lost somehow, somewhere along the way.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

In the park I saw a daddy,
With a laughin' little girl who he was swingin'.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school,
And listened to the song they were singin'.
Then I headed back for home,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin'.
And it echoed through the canyons,
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On the Sunday morning sidewalk,
Wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cos there's something in a Sunday,
Makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothin' short of dyin',
Half as lonesome as the sound,
On the sleepin' city sidewalks:
Sunday mornin' comin' down.

As the years go passing by.

Another year passes. And I look back and wonder. There's been a few mistakes, but good times were had. Recovery, moving on, learning from past mistakes. (Although with certain objections - It seems I don't learn sometimes.) Importantly though, life moves on, a little older, a little wiser. Hearken the wonderful words of Led Zeppelin:

In the days of my youth
I was told what it was to be a man,
Now Ive reached the age
Ive tried to do all those things the best I can.
No matter how I try,
I find my way to do the same old jam.

*good times, bad times,
You know I had my share;
When my woman left home
With a brown eyed man,
Well, I still dont seem to care.

Sixteen: I fell in love
With a girl as sweet as could be,
Only took a couple of days
Till she was rid of me.
She swore that she would be all mine
And love me till the end,
When I whispered in her ear
I lost another friend.

Visions of loveliness.

Whatever the hell happened to blogger man. Something's screwy with the interface. No matter. Life moves on.

I recently managed to get my luggage from Edinburgh back (yes, it left a month before I did, returned a month after. Do the math.) A little treasure trove of trinkets and things fell right out, along with assorted memories of SEP life.

Life was good then. It was simple. Why isn't it so anymore? So strange. It's as if we carry our complications with us, and it hangs in the air. Returning to Singapore refreshed, I get bogged down by the little details of life. Or perhaps the air in my homeland begs me to reflect, and think too much.

I was pleased to find that my posters had all arrived more or less intact. I just hung up my favourite star of the silver screen, she's sitting on my wall looking at me with a pensive smile.

http://blog.pricegrabber.com/chicshopper/files/2007/11/audrey-hepburn-poster-c11738523.jpg

There's another vision of loveliness that runs through my head every night, but that might just have to wait.

I've been infected with the blues. And it's good, a fantastic way to relax. Just kicking in a backing track and wandering up and down pentatonics for a few minutes is strangely therapeutic. Even better, it doesn't sound too bad either. Maybe i'll write a couple of songs, it's a form of self-therapy. Gets the insides out, if you know what i mean. Got to get out of the key of A though.

Work is fantastic. I love it. I'm sincerely hoping I get a change to get back in after I graduate, so i'm gonna work my arse off if I have to. It helps to have motivation everyday though. :)

The hardest words are the seven letter ones.

It felt different, this time I stepped out of my room. Looking back, it was bare, stripped of its essence. The remnants of my past life these 5 months lay about in dribs and drabs, trailing a path of frantic packing over a night of musicals, whiskey and conversations.

I was leaving a hall, but yet it was different. In NUS (I'm not ashamed to say it) I was happy to leave. While I was rather active in hall, the activities were forced, and the people there I didn't quite clique with. Nevertheless, I made a few friends in my stay, although much more acquaintance. And besides, visiting Temasek was always a stone's throw away. Maybe that's why I never really went back?

I was leaving my room for a trip, but yet it was different. I stepped out of that little room in Pollock many times over the last few months, letting a few day's worth of dust settle before returning to its musty, homely splendour. It became so easy, I would barely start packing until hours before I was scheduled to leave. But each time I left, I knew it was only temporarily. A temporal distortion, taking me away for the moment, but only to return.

I was leaving my life in Edinburgh behind. A short life, but a very eventful one. In the last 5 months, I have made friends that I know I may not see again for the rest of my life. And that really sucks. When you're out there half a world away (or even 2 nations away) from home, every human contact and friendship counts. And you hold on a lot harder to people than you normally do. That's just the way of things.

And in this short life, I was reborn. I left the cares of a "second-lower-striving-for-second-upper" behind, left my eternal worries about studying, my grades, my projects... It was a good feeling. A feeling of release, of ease, of relaxedness. Life became meaningful in the passing of a breeze. The feel of the wind against your cheek. The softness of the grass you lie on to enjoy the sun. The ephemeral taste of a Guinness as it slides down the throat. The sudden ringing of the phone when a friend calls to ask what you're doing. Suddenly there was more meaning in life, and more life in meaning for me.

But all good things come to an end, and it was time to part. I will always feel that my departure from Edinburgh was a rushed affair, a ceasarian rip that tore me from the womb that nurtured me the last 5 months.

Barely 24 hours after my last paper, I left the city.

Knowing that the next time I come back, I won't call this home.

Knowing that the next time I come back, my friends will all haved moved on and gone.

Goodbye Edinburgh. Goodbye.

I've got my pride and i know how to hide all my sorrow and pain.

And too soon shall we all part.

aware?

I'm rather suprised at the effectiveness of Twitter as a social broadcasting tool. I'd been following the AWARE EGM at Suntec via Twitter for the last 3 hours, and it is a really gripping saga. Feels like some drama serial on TV.

The concept of distributed reporting seems seems to be a winner to me. What will come next? Sports twittering? I can imagine 100 people at a soccer match twittering every move, to the delight of fans all over. This is the new face of citizen journalism - Who needs skill? Just a short sentence (which sometimes barely makes sense), but with a couple hundred other people doing so as well, it all comes together.

Cheers to the new AWARE exco. Keep the fundamentalists out.

The Horror.

It's amazing what you bump into on random bookshelves in youth hostels. An enterprising bugger actually left a copy of Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness and other stories" on the shelves. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, i promptly stole it (well, borrowed) for the duration of my stay.

It took 2-3 nights of nearly falling asleep to make it through the text, but once i was done i couldn't help but go through it again. It's one of those things that you would want to read over and over, poring through the details of the meanings, the depth of the intepretation. On the surface it is a simple tale of restoration, to bring back someone lost in the jungle. Below, the currents draw deep.

What is the heart of darkness that Kurtz and Marlow speak of? Not merely the depth of primeval jungle that Kurtz has imprisoned himself in. Perhaps it is the greed of the merchant trader, willing to do all to take the ivory from the shores of Africa. The will to ignore what happens to others, to forsake the humanity due to the natives, to bind them to his will, and to pillage and plunder wantonly.

Or perhaps it is the darkness of the spirit, that infects those far from civilisation - the darkness drawn not from the exterior surroundings, but rather from a lack of internal nourishment. The lack of companionship, the lack of order, the lack of civility. The complete and utter failure of society to prepare the orderly minds of the educated to face the rawness of the jungle. In that way, the "Heart of Darkness" draws a parallel to "The Lord Of the Flies", but instead of seeing the gradual disappearance of society, we see the effects of a society gone to ground - where supplies sent are squandered, where rule of law exists by whips and guns, where the slaves are slaves due to a meaningless charter, where all that exists is a greed to take and take, without consideration or care.

I like the book. Intend to get it back in Singapore. I think the other two stories are worth reading, if only to place "Heart of Darkness" within context.

Writing...

There's a certain satisfaction in writing long emails and blogs. For me its been more of the former than the latter since I arrived in the fair city of Edinburgh. I think its a lost art. The ability to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) and to write sincerely, from the heart, and to let others know about how you're doing.

I think I'm one of those who derive great pleasure from writing. It used to be fiction - I remember loving the freeform composition writing I did in secondary school. Now apparently I get a kick out of talking about my travel experience, writing in a somewhat off-putting mildly disjointed way - But i guess that's the way I'm thinking at the moment. Free-Association mental workings.

I think, well, I'm quite sure I will write a book on my travel experiences. Probably a photo-book kind of thing, with my notes supplementing my favourite photos from my 6 months here. So I have a one man market, but are there any more out there who would buy it?

Gambling.

I had never been a gambling man.

 Well, I claim to scoff at those who make their fortune from the bad plays of others, and disdain the casual wagered games of chance (or skill). Perhaps I just can't play it well? I hope my dislike for the bet goes deeper than that.

I'm straight and narrow. Always on the straight and narrow. A failing perhaps - To always want to know exactly where things are heading, to want to know as much as I can about the future, to find the path laid before me unfurl exactly as planned. Boring? Methodical? You decide. I like seeing my plans put into action. I like knowing what I want to do tomorrow, the day after, the week after, the year after. Well, not exactly in three-dimensional computer simulation kind of detail, but a rough idea would be good.

I was never one to live life on a day to day basis. Even now, on a honeymoon semester in Edinburgh, it shows. My Rainlender is packed - Not with school stuff, but with the things I want to do OUT of school. Carpe Diem, they say. I say Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctis, Carpe Vita.

And that's just me. I like me this way.

People are the same everywhere.

It was hilarious.

I was just in one of my chemical engineering classes (polymer science and engineering, to be exact.) The lecturer was saying that for this module, it will be a self-study guided lecture style, so he expects us to go and read up on the subject matter ourselves, and gather back the week after to discuss the answers to some preset questions he had for us. So he gave us the list of books that we were likely to use, and the call numbers in the library, and ended the lecture early.

And JUST LIKE WHAT I WOULD EXPECT IN SINGAPORE, every single scheming struggling chemical engineer in the bunch made a beeline STRAIGHT to the library, barely after he finished his last sentence. I was lucky to be ahead of the pack, and secured myself a copy of one of the books. Some others weren't as lucky. I think the librarian was shocked at the sudden impulse input of chemical engineers popping in.

Score one for kiasu-ism! When it comes to being kiasu, SINGAPOREANS ROCK.

People try to put us d-d-down...

And where it stop nobody knows.

Stimulation is a terrible thing.

With the date of my departure fast approaching, I find that time is fleeting...... Minutes flit by like so many buzzing insects, whirring past the stream of consciousness. It takes a great deal of effort to contemplate each moment as a seperate entity, denying the endless agglomoration of time, sectioning the hours into coherent units.

It's aided less still by new sources of endless entertainment - 10 seasons of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, a few thousand readily available episodes of Naruto and Bleach, as well as the siren call of a bed that I won't see for 6 months. Attempts at regaining traction in my usual social life has encountered, well, lets just say a few oil slicks. Still, it's a futile attempt, for in less than a week I will again be wrenched from the familar comforts of mundanity and whisked to - let's face it, a really really cold place.

Which is not necessarily bad. It's cool. (snort snort.) It's making sure that everything falls in order so that the transition is smooth that bothers me. It would seriously annoy me if I missed something and have the transition interrupted. Bah. Only time will tell.

Musing - If Schadenfraude is a word that means pleasure at the misfortune of others, what's the word that means pleasure at the happiness of others?

She looks so happy. :)

And it was really nice to see the entire gang (well almost the entire gang) together last night. It's been a while since I saw most of them, and its the first time we got together all the couples. Very sweet. Very nice. Let's hope this team sticks together for the long run.

You guys rock my world. :) (I'm gonna miss you all.)

This Shit is so totally Weasel

For those who didn't realise... I'm back!

None the worse for wear, at about the same weight (you bastards), and with over 1000 photos and memories of good times (and bad times) gone by in the land of loving long time.

I wouldn't do justice to my trip if i haemorraghed the entire trip in a single post, and even if i did, my photos aren't quite done yet. So this will just have to do as a marker post, while the main body comes along later.

And for those who saw me last night, i was probably having much more fun than i was letting on, if you know what i mean. :)

The Green Mile

3 papers down, 1 more to go...

It's always at the final step that my willpower seems to falter. Let's hope that this time it gets a little better.

The end of the year seems a little uncertain now. Bangkok doesn't look rather happening right now... unless you're the kind that likes to wade through a crowd of yellow shirted people trying to walk from the airport back to the city.

Ah well. Politics has always been a messy business. The impact of the December events on Thailand will be very strong.

But for me, I've got a lot of process modelling and numerical simulation left to do.

" but oh God, sometimes the Green Mile seems so long..."

Aaaaaaand......

War.

They grazed in silence, until his own words reminded him of something he had wanted to ask.

"The sentries," he asked. "Are we at war?"

She did not understand the word.

"War?"

"Are we fighting people?"

"Fighting?" she asked doubtfully. "The men fight sometimes about their wives and that. Of course there is no bloodshed - only scuffling, to find the better man. Is that what you mean?"

"No, I meant fighting against armies - against other geese, for instance."

She was amused.

"How ridiculous! You mean a lot of geese all scuffling at the same time. It would be fun to watch."

Her tone suprised him, for his heart was still a kind one, being a boy's.

"Fun to watch them kill each other?"

"To kill each other? An army of geese kill each other?"

She began to understand this idea slowly and doubtfully, an expression of distaste coming over her face. When it had sank in, she left him. She went away to another part of the field in silence. He followed, but she turned her back. Moving round to get a glimpse of her eyes, he was startled by their dislike - a look as if he had made some obscene suggestion.

He said lamely: "I am sorry. I don't understand."

"Leave talking about it."

"I am sorry."

Later he aded, with annoyance, "A person can ask, I suppose. It seems a natural question, with the sentries."
But she was thoroughly angry.

"Will you stop about it at once! What a horrible mind you must have! You have no right to sy such things. And of course there are sentries. There are the jar-falcons and the peregrines, aren't there: the foxes and the ermines and the humans with their nets? These are natural enemies. But what creature could be so low as to go about in bands, to murder others of its own blood?"

"Ants do," he said obstinately. "And i was only trying to learn."

She relented with an effort to be good-natured. She wanted to be broad-minded if she could, for she was rather a blue stocking.

"My name is Lyo-lyok. YOu had better call yourself Kee-kwa, and then the rest will think you came from Hungary."

"Do you all come here from different places?"

"Well, in parties of course. There are some here from Siberia, some from Lapland and i can see one or two from Iceland."

"But don't they fight each other for the pasture?"

"Dear me you are a silly," she said. "There are no boundaries among geese."

"What are boundaries please?"

"Imaginary lines on the earth I suppose. How can you have boundaries if you fly? These ants of yours - and the humans too - would have to stop fighting in the end, if they took to the air."

"I like fighting," said the Wart. "It is knightly."

"Because you're a baby."

-------------------------------------------------------------

The Once and Future King, T.H. White

Roundround getaround I get around

Whew. The end of the year draws closer and closer with every breath I take. And there much more to be done...

The semester's gone by in a rush, and frankly, I'm not looking forward to it ending. It's not that I haven't learnt anything, which for that i'm rather amazed. Somethings actually seem to have crept into my lulling mind as i waltzed the semester away. But there's yet so much more to do!

Rapidly pacing up and down Orchard earlier today, I remembered the thrill I get from having a goal. Short, as it may be, but a goal nonetheless. Just having the urge to push yourself to get things done - That's my ambrosia. My sweet nectar. The thrill of the chase.

For me it seems to have been a semester of recovery, from emotional trauma, and refocusing my life on my fundamentals. I'm still looking for my fundamentals, and I think I might yet be a step closer to getting to know what I'm really about. 

And of course along comes the occasional revelation. "It takes two hands to clap", that's one. "You can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink", that's another. "It's not the triumph, it's the struggle." I learnt a lot from struggling. 

And the one phrase that sums up my first half of my year -

"When you're heart's on fire, you must realise smoke gets in your eyes."

Twilight

No wonder my tuition kid can't put this book down when i'm teaching. Its hilarious really - She'll sulk and ask for breaks and tell me not to teach so that she can read her book. Its' the first time that had ever happened to me, I was at a loss to impose my decree to continue with math or let her carry on with her fascination with the written word.

I would think one of the main draws of the abovementioned novel is that it reads like a classic romance...... girl meets boy, girl finds something wierd about boy....... they undergo several hardships, but eventually live happily ever after. Of course, the main character being female, the book has obvious attractions to the average female student. It doesn't help that the prose is peppered with liberal sprinklings of how "his shirt could not hide his chiselled chest" and "the slabs of muscle on his arms flexed in a raw display of power" and all that. Oh, how my heart is a-flutter. The author does go about it rather discreetly though, drawing the potrait of love without the usual physical hangups.

The pacing of the novel is not bad, although it spends the majority of it's time exploring the growing relationship between the two lead characters. It almost felt as if the antagonist of the latter half of the story was thrown in as an afterthought. Of course, their star-crossed love would face difficulties throughout the course of the novel, but it is hardly noticeable. And of course it's so exciting to do something that everyone disapproves of... Stirs up the rebel in everyone.

Overall, it was unputdownable. Whilst i know most people would tell me thats not a word, but i beg to differ. No other word comes close to describing the zest and vim of a novel that keeps the reader sufficiently entertained from cover to cover. I had a test today, so I HAD to put it down last night before sleeping. Today i had no such excuse, and finished it off thoroughly and satisfactorily.

-------------------------------------

Now, because i have a bad habit of doing other things when i should be doing my work, let's take a look into an analysis of "Twilight" in the framework of the monomyth (The Hero's Journey)

Can anyone identify the 17 Stages of the Monomyth?

1. Departure

a. Call to Adventure

b. Refusal of the call

c. Supernatural aid

d. The crossing of the first threshold

e. Belly of the whale

2. Initiation

a. The road of trials

b. Mother as Goddess

c. Woman(man in this case) as temptress

d. Atonement with the Father

e. Apotheosis

f. The Ultimate Boon

3. Return

a. Refusal of the Return

b. The Magic Flight

c. Rescue from without

d. The crossing of the return threshold

e. Master of Two Worlds

f. Freedom to Live

This is taken liberally from the wikipedia article on the monomyth.

I know what homework someone is getting next week....... muahahahahhaha.

Casablanca

A new friend of mine told me I should watch Casablanca.

And so I did.

And I was blown away.

There's a certain pace and rhythm to the movies of those times, and it is a calming one. Following the ebb and flow of the plot is simple, and pleasantly relaxing. One thing i'm really taken in by is, as i have previously mentioned before, the gravity of the actor's screen presence, and the way they steal the scenes everytime they step on. Humphrey Bogart plays the jaded owner to cynical perfection, while Ingrid Bergman steals the limelight in soft focus black and white. She looks like she's GLOWING.

Well, maybe not this one. But you get the idea.

Black and white cinema is a style unto itself - Lacking colours, it seems that either the actors are forced into being more in focus. Or is it that with a lack of colour, we, as the viewers are more entranced by the actors than the scenes?

And of course, amazing one-liners and quotable quotes.

"Play it, Sam."

"Here's looking at you kid."

"Of all the gin joints of all the towns in the world she has to walk into mine."

And possibly one of my favourite jazzy songs:

"You must remember this. A kiss is still a kiss. A sigh is just a sigh. The fundamental things apply, as time goes by. And when two lovers woo, they still say "I love you". On that you can rely. No matter what the future brings, as time goes by.

Moonlight and love songs, never out of date. Hearts full of passion, jealousy and hate. Woman needs man, and man must have his mate. That, noone can deny.

It's still the same old story, the fight for love and glory, a case of do or die. The world will always welcome lovers, as time goes by."

Pleasant days and pleasant nights. I'm learning a bit more of myself everytime I open my eyes. Life is moving. :)