Saturday, July 12, 2008
Complicated Heart
Even if you want to go alone
I will be waiting when you're coming home
If you need someone to ease the pain
You can lean on me, my love will still remain
I will be waiting when you're coming home
If you need someone to ease the pain
You can lean on me, my love will still remain
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Home?
Well, i'm back.
Back from the whirlwind of 12 days that ended so sharply.
Withering activity, peace in a pack.
I'm back.
But I don't feel at home.
Life passes by in episodes, vigorous activity, quiet interludes.
I'm back.
Silence is deafening, when you are looking for it.
Space is more obtrusive when it is empty.
I'm back.
And I keep trying to convince myself I am.
They say home is where the heart is.
I'm back.
But am I home?
Back from the whirlwind of 12 days that ended so sharply.
Withering activity, peace in a pack.
I'm back.
But I don't feel at home.
Life passes by in episodes, vigorous activity, quiet interludes.
I'm back.
Silence is deafening, when you are looking for it.
Space is more obtrusive when it is empty.
I'm back.
And I keep trying to convince myself I am.
They say home is where the heart is.
I'm back.
But am I home?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Bangkok Dreaming
Heading overseas to Bangkok tomorrow.
The most wretched hive of scum and villainy in this corner of Southeast Asia.
Where 1 out of every 5 girls you walk across is damn &*(#$%*$# hot.
Where beer is $1.50 sing per bottle.
Ooh i cant wait.....
The most wretched hive of scum and villainy in this corner of Southeast Asia.
Where 1 out of every 5 girls you walk across is damn &*(#$%*$# hot.
Where beer is $1.50 sing per bottle.
Ooh i cant wait.....
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Pretending to be busy
It does seem to be a trend that at the period that I'm most busy is the period I blog the most. And the days where time just saunters by are filled with reflection and thought, less so of the blogging.
Life and times have passed me by, as I sit bemused and stare. The rain falls gently out my window, soft and without a care.
I'm seriously considering the MCAT, and hope to do well. In the meantime a new hobby approaches, and you can see the results at Infinite Kaleidoscope
Do I think I'm wasting my time?
No not quite.
I choose to appreciate what time this life has given me by.
Life and times have passed me by, as I sit bemused and stare. The rain falls gently out my window, soft and without a care.
I'm seriously considering the MCAT, and hope to do well. In the meantime a new hobby approaches, and you can see the results at Infinite Kaleidoscope
Do I think I'm wasting my time?
No not quite.
I choose to appreciate what time this life has given me by.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Up yours Courts!
For the past three days, I tossed and turned at night. My mind's eye was filled with surges of information, flowing rapidly across the firing neurons in my cerebral matter, keeping the imagination alive, in a constant state of semi-awakeness.
I couldn't take it.
Something had to break.
I rushed down, taking care to note what I was doing. I touched it gingerly, afraid I was going to break it. Thoughts rushed across my mind - Would i regret it? Is this a rash decision? What will people say?
I braced myself.
I took out my wallet, and placed it on the table.
"You know what you have to do."
It just laid there, quietly mocking me.
I solemnly took out a lighter, and flicked it on.
"I don't like to do this."
It just laid there, in a stoic silence.
I reverently carried it, and hoisted it above the flame... Watching as the ashes flew.
Pleased by the sacrifice, the Lady smiled.
I wondered to myself - What have I done?
And i knew the sacrifice was worth it.
Up yours Courts! $888 for a D40 my ass.
D40 with 18-55mm kit lens + 2 GB SD card + Tamrac bag = $700
More pictures when i learn how to use this bugger properly.
I couldn't take it.
Something had to break.
I rushed down, taking care to note what I was doing. I touched it gingerly, afraid I was going to break it. Thoughts rushed across my mind - Would i regret it? Is this a rash decision? What will people say?
I braced myself.
I took out my wallet, and placed it on the table.
"You know what you have to do."
It just laid there, quietly mocking me.
I solemnly took out a lighter, and flicked it on.
"I don't like to do this."
It just laid there, in a stoic silence.
I reverently carried it, and hoisted it above the flame... Watching as the ashes flew.
Pleased by the sacrifice, the Lady smiled.
I wondered to myself - What have I done?
And i knew the sacrifice was worth it.Up yours Courts! $888 for a D40 my ass.
D40 with 18-55mm kit lens + 2 GB SD card + Tamrac bag = $700
More pictures when i learn how to use this bugger properly.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Pocket Revolutions
(Blogging from the Airport, waiting for a Jack)
I happened to stumble upon this sight as i left a cubicle -
Truly, a poetic moment of rebellion.
A little symbol, stuck in an in-obtrusive location. In the most public of places, yet the most secluded of places.
It is nothing special actually, just another prosaic moment in life. But I find something definitive in the expression, a yearning for exposition, a pocket revolution.
It is the lot of the son to rebel against the father, an almost psychological urge to prove himself different, to assert his unique identity and set it aside from the generation before. It fulfills a basic need for identity, and to differentiate the individual assertion from the mundanity of the collective consciousness.
In such cases, laymen assert the claim that "rules are meant to be broken", as a symbol and driving mantra of those who seek fulfillment from the development of the individual psyche, an envelopment of a angst ridden mind with the little liberties and tinglings of freedom of expression, against the backdrop of a totalitarian rule, of nation, of society, of family.
However, such expressions are by nature selfish. It is the individual who benefits from such acts, the fulfillment of individual wants and needs, an action for the betterment of a singularity. Unavoidable as it is, it betrays a lack of understanding of the collective, the implicit nature of collaboration that is society, where each have their own part to play, driving the collective into progress, freshness and advancement.
The irony of the situation being that an individual, once subsumed into the collective masses, does not retain his unique identity and marker, and thus being unable to stand out from the crowds of mundanity, loses a certain power of the singularity. Society depends on the outcasts to redefine itself, to make trends move onwards, to push the borders of known thought.
A balancing act that teeters on oblivion, the individual resists the attempt to normalise himself, driving himself to further and further extremes in behavior. Thus the revolutionary is born, an expression against the world social order, a revolt against the norms.
Or perhaps its just some lazy bugger who didn't bother to just throw it away properly. God knows how many lazy people there are in this world.
Or is it?
I happened to stumble upon this sight as i left a cubicle -
Truly, a poetic moment of rebellion.
A little symbol, stuck in an in-obtrusive location. In the most public of places, yet the most secluded of places.
It is nothing special actually, just another prosaic moment in life. But I find something definitive in the expression, a yearning for exposition, a pocket revolution.
It is the lot of the son to rebel against the father, an almost psychological urge to prove himself different, to assert his unique identity and set it aside from the generation before. It fulfills a basic need for identity, and to differentiate the individual assertion from the mundanity of the collective consciousness.
In such cases, laymen assert the claim that "rules are meant to be broken", as a symbol and driving mantra of those who seek fulfillment from the development of the individual psyche, an envelopment of a angst ridden mind with the little liberties and tinglings of freedom of expression, against the backdrop of a totalitarian rule, of nation, of society, of family.
However, such expressions are by nature selfish. It is the individual who benefits from such acts, the fulfillment of individual wants and needs, an action for the betterment of a singularity. Unavoidable as it is, it betrays a lack of understanding of the collective, the implicit nature of collaboration that is society, where each have their own part to play, driving the collective into progress, freshness and advancement.
The irony of the situation being that an individual, once subsumed into the collective masses, does not retain his unique identity and marker, and thus being unable to stand out from the crowds of mundanity, loses a certain power of the singularity. Society depends on the outcasts to redefine itself, to make trends move onwards, to push the borders of known thought.
A balancing act that teeters on oblivion, the individual resists the attempt to normalise himself, driving himself to further and further extremes in behavior. Thus the revolutionary is born, an expression against the world social order, a revolt against the norms.
Or perhaps its just some lazy bugger who didn't bother to just throw it away properly. God knows how many lazy people there are in this world.
Or is it?
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Every Breath You Take
Every breath you take
(and release, slowly expressing yourself in an explosion of emotion)
Every move you make
(taking in sweet release, covering the world in a haze of colour)
Every bond you break
(into a million little pieces, too small to see, lying around an arterial chamber)
Every step you take
(away, without looking back, always focused inwards, never into the distance)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Every single day
(and night it commands my mind)
Every word you say
(in anger, in sweetness, in sternness, in love)
Every game you play
(throwing my heart to new heights, sinking to deeper depths)
Every night you stay
(in your dreams, in your nightmares)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Oh, cant you see
(pain within belies pain without)
You belong to me
(and i was meant for you)
How my poor heart aches
(pounding, ripping, tearing)
With every step you take
(away from me)
Every move you make
(sensuous, vivacious, alluring)
Every vow you break
(over and over again)
Every smile you fake
(for yourself, for myself, for ourselves)
Every claim you stake
(for I'm yours, now and forever)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
(and release, slowly expressing yourself in an explosion of emotion)
Every move you make
(taking in sweet release, covering the world in a haze of colour)
Every bond you break
(into a million little pieces, too small to see, lying around an arterial chamber)
Every step you take
(away, without looking back, always focused inwards, never into the distance)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Every single day
(and night it commands my mind)
Every word you say
(in anger, in sweetness, in sternness, in love)
Every game you play
(throwing my heart to new heights, sinking to deeper depths)
Every night you stay
(in your dreams, in your nightmares)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Oh, cant you see
(pain within belies pain without)
You belong to me
(and i was meant for you)
How my poor heart aches
(pounding, ripping, tearing)
With every step you take
(away from me)
Every move you make
(sensuous, vivacious, alluring)
Every vow you break
(over and over again)
Every smile you fake
(for yourself, for myself, for ourselves)
Every claim you stake
(for I'm yours, now and forever)
Ill be watching you
(with breath bated, with eyes torn, with heart asunder, with life worn)
Friday, April 25, 2008
Under Pressure
Sometimes I wonder if we are but just disembodied minds, floating around our sea of consciousness, tenuously attached to the physical vessels that we inhabit for our mortal lives.
(mind-body duality)
With the right amount of control, we can manipulate our physical essence to do almost anything. Hence the stories of superhuman feats, the amazing tolerances of the human physique. With enough control, we can ignore the flung spears of pain and sorrow, thrusting on with our lives.
Then my mental image is suddenly shattered by the most tiny of pricks, a little dagger of derision, stabbing close to the heart, severing tendon by miniature tendon of the muscles most intimate.
It is those who we allow close that are able to perpetuate the most insiduous of inside jobs.
(its the terror of knowing what this world is about)
And I am suddenly brought back to reality. The veil of composure is hardest to keep when new wounds are being punctured all the time. A plastered smile but barely covers the scars within, throbbing with pain.
(one, by one, only the good die young)
Who can know what sorrows perpetuate inside? The scars but mark the incision, the wounds fester beneath. All I await is the eventual dulling of the blade, and the healing of the scars they have caused. Or maybe, someday I will be proven to be as good as some people say I am.
Isn't it always easy to blame others? I choose not the simple path. My faults are mine alone, and my sorrow mine alone to bear. I will carry my cross as far as I can go, and as far as I can I will chip away at the edges and wear them away. Someday I will collapse, alone, adrift, and far from shore. But until then, I walk alone, my cross mine alone to bear. Until i find someone willing to carry it with me.
With a stiff upper lip, life carries on.
(mind-body duality)
With the right amount of control, we can manipulate our physical essence to do almost anything. Hence the stories of superhuman feats, the amazing tolerances of the human physique. With enough control, we can ignore the flung spears of pain and sorrow, thrusting on with our lives.
Then my mental image is suddenly shattered by the most tiny of pricks, a little dagger of derision, stabbing close to the heart, severing tendon by miniature tendon of the muscles most intimate.
It is those who we allow close that are able to perpetuate the most insiduous of inside jobs.
(its the terror of knowing what this world is about)
And I am suddenly brought back to reality. The veil of composure is hardest to keep when new wounds are being punctured all the time. A plastered smile but barely covers the scars within, throbbing with pain.
(one, by one, only the good die young)
Who can know what sorrows perpetuate inside? The scars but mark the incision, the wounds fester beneath. All I await is the eventual dulling of the blade, and the healing of the scars they have caused. Or maybe, someday I will be proven to be as good as some people say I am.
Isn't it always easy to blame others? I choose not the simple path. My faults are mine alone, and my sorrow mine alone to bear. I will carry my cross as far as I can go, and as far as I can I will chip away at the edges and wear them away. Someday I will collapse, alone, adrift, and far from shore. But until then, I walk alone, my cross mine alone to bear. Until i find someone willing to carry it with me.
With a stiff upper lip, life carries on.
Only the good die young
A hand above the water
An angel reaching for the sky
Is it raining in heaven -
Do you want us to cry?
And everywhere the broken-hearted
On every lonely avenue
No-one could reach them
No-one but you
One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flying too close to the sun
And life goes on -
Without you...
Another tricky situation
A get to drowin' in the blues
And i find myself thinkin'
Well - what would you do?
Yes! - it was such an operation
Forever paying every due
Hell, you made a sensation
You found a way through - and
One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flyin' too close to the sun
We'll remember -
Forever...
And now the party must be over
I guess we'll never understand
The sense of your leaving
Was it the way it was planned?
And so we grace another table
And raise our glasses one more time
There's a face at the window
And i ain't never, never sayin' goodbye...
One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flyin' too close to the sun
Cryin' for nothing
Cryin' for no-one
No-one but you
An angel reaching for the sky
Is it raining in heaven -
Do you want us to cry?
And everywhere the broken-hearted
On every lonely avenue
No-one could reach them
No-one but you
One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flying too close to the sun
And life goes on -
Without you...
Another tricky situation
A get to drowin' in the blues
And i find myself thinkin'
Well - what would you do?
Yes! - it was such an operation
Forever paying every due
Hell, you made a sensation
You found a way through - and
One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flyin' too close to the sun
We'll remember -
Forever...
And now the party must be over
I guess we'll never understand
The sense of your leaving
Was it the way it was planned?
And so we grace another table
And raise our glasses one more time
There's a face at the window
And i ain't never, never sayin' goodbye...
One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flyin' too close to the sun
Cryin' for nothing
Cryin' for no-one
No-one but you
Monday, April 21, 2008
Second hand advertising
Hi guys and girls who are reading my blog...
(long silence......)
Is anyone there?
Anyway, my cousin asked me to do him a favour, and help promote his new internet website to some of my friends. It's called Shoplette - a service you can use to tell your friends what you bought and where you bought it, check out what your friends have bought and where they’ve been shopping, discover new stuff to buy and new places to shop, and find out what’s hot and where to shop in other countries.
Please visit at www.shoplette.com
(long silence......)
Is anyone there?
Anyway, my cousin asked me to do him a favour, and help promote his new internet website to some of my friends. It's called Shoplette - a service you can use to tell your friends what you bought and where you bought it, check out what your friends have bought and where they’ve been shopping, discover new stuff to buy and new places to shop, and find out what’s hot and where to shop in other countries.
Please visit at www.shoplette.com
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