Pilgrim Rain III

NUS Catholic Students' Society 60th Anniversary Celebrations

2009-08-09T06:13:00.000-07:00

It has been quite some time since I last blogged. I guess the convenience of facebook just took over. Also, with the formating of my com, I lost all the links to my friends' blogs and just stopped blog surfing, although I really did used to do that ardently. It was and is, so much easier just putting in regular updates or putting in biblical quotes which summarised how I felt in a status line, rather than blogging my heart out.

You know how it happens when you are caught up with a million and one activities as you try to organise that one activity and then suddenly in a twinkling of an eye it's over? Just like that, the CSS 60AC came, swept us off our feet, then disappeared in a span of a couple of hours. It still seems very much like a dream to me - the hours spent planning the event over tau hwey, the heated arguments that ensued in our meetings, simply because we were all so passonate about what we truly believed in, the blood, toil, sweat put in trying to raise the needed (and very expensive) funds for the event, the countless edits and changes in the publications, grappling with the many obstacles that came our way, both spiritual and physical... I guess with every event, there are a million and one things that could have been done better like how the welcome and thank you speech should have been, but as with all the CSS events that I have been priviledged to have partaken in, the 60AC was truly another testimony of God's infinite grace, mercy and love for the CSS and its endeavours. God was truly present and He reminded us of His presence throughout the journey - with quiet promptings like the reading of taking the five loaves and two fishes and feeding 5000, with verses like "I am the vine and you are the branches, abide in me and you will bear fruit to abundance..." We started off with empty baskets, but God took the little we had and made that overflow with abundance.

It amazes me how everything seems almost planned - that there was always an angel looking out for us. We started literally from Groundzero - no money, no support... nothing. Yet God constantly provided - from the sponsors, the ministries who responded to our call, to the contributors who contributed not only of their stories and photographs, but also of their time and of themselves, the outpouring of love from the churches that supported our outreach efforts, the people who stepped up to be in this ad-hoc committee, the people who were moved to purchase tickets. I have met so many people in the course of sitting quietly in church with a make-shift sign selling ko-yok... the various people from the different generations who moved and humbled me in turn with their sharings of their time in the CSS.

It was simultaneously an experience of great joy and sadness as I looked around the hall and saw the people who bothered to attend the event. Joy, because this was precisely the reason for celebrating the event in the first place -a community of faith in a secular institution who can come together without pretense. It was heartwarming to see how people re-connected, kindled and re-kindled their friendships. Sadness, on the other hand, for if the CSS truly meant something, it wouldn't have been so difficult to sell tickets for the event and let's not even talk about cost, for at $60 a ticket, $50 for undergraduates, it was already a heavily subsidised rate from the $74.50 that comes from the venue, dinner and publications costs not counting other costs like publicity, costs of making the collar pins, programme and administrative costs... on hand.

Perhaps the problem lies with the perceived notion of the transitory nature of the CSS. The CSS doesn't mean much to quite a number, because it is that, a time-filler, a passing phase. Maybe in the past, it was valid that the CSS be a transitory zone because the churches needed harvesters in their ministries, but now, it is a different case, because the majority of the people who serve in the CSS are also simultaneously active servers in their own parishes. There is so much more that could be achieve in maintaining ties and continuity. For example, in trying to sell tickets, we were practically digging for needles in haystacks as we set up booths at the few parishes that actually supported us and just waited in faith that memebrs of the CSS past would see our signs, stop by and purchase a ticket. It would have been easier if there was a database to access, but it seems apparant that the thoughts of it have been around since the 1980s, but nothing has really been done about it.

What needs to be done, if we are really serious about setting up a proper alumni, is to do a church-wide census - and we are barley touching base with those CSS members in Malaysia and those who have left Singapore. Yet this is quite difficult is there are only a few parish priests generous enough to support our endeavours. Being a student body, it is also extremely difficult if we are not given enough financial support to carry out our activities. Who is out there that cares enough for the CSS to maintain a CSS office where records and archives and databases can be kept or even to fund then? The churches who are truly supportive are really quite few and because we keep going to the same churches they too experience fundraising fatigue. Come on, 7 churches out of the 32 in Singapore?!? I think it's time to step out of the parochial line of vision that perceives anything not from the parish to be a threat and as competition.

So, the question that comes naturally after is, Quo Vadis? Where are we going to?

I have been enriched greatly with my time in the CSS and I hope the adventures don't end here but continue. I thank God each time I think of how the people and the events in the CSS have moved me and touched me and how God has promised to be with us, every step of the way. Anyone remembers the rainbows at FOC for three years in a row? Yet, we too have to do our part by abiding in Him, by Faith and by leading a prayer-centric life.

2009-02-16T01:58:00.000-08:00

Guess what? We've been praying to the wrong saint for love! St. Valentine's actually the patron Saint of those who have ALREADY found their soul mates. St. Raphael is the one to pray to if you are searching for love. Afterall, it was he who brought Tobias and his wife together!!! (See Sunday Times, February 15th, 2009)

2008-12-13T03:08:00.000-08:00

The Christmas Song

(Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire) : Lyrics

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,
Jack Frost nipping on your nose,
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir,
And folks dressed up like Eskimos.

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe,
Help to make the season bright.
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow,
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.

They know that Santa's on his way;
He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh.
And every mother's child is going to spy,
To see if reindeer really know how to fly.

And so I'm offering this simple phrase,
To kids from one to ninety-two,
Although its been said many times, many ways,
A very Merry Christmas to you

2008-12-09T08:10:00.000-08:00

Having put the card in to the box, I closed it to place it on the top of the shelf, where its rightful place was, but somehow my fingers slipped and the box fell to the ground, scattering the paper memories.

The box contained every note and every card I had received, every ticket to a play or movie that I watched, every bus pass I had carried, since my primary school days. I am a hoarder you see, and I believe that every thing has its own story to tell.

Well, in some sense, dropping that box allowed me to re-live the memories of days gone by, but as I picked every piece up and examined it, I realised that there were things that were simply not worth keeping, things like the obligatory cards I had received in return for the cards I had sent out and cards from primary school friends who claimed to be best friends, but who turned out to be superficial backstabbers. I have lived out twenty five years and as each year passes, I put more memories into my memory box - memories that are forgotten as time passes, but are vivid when that box is opened after a time. Some are good memories of cameradarie and friendship, some are memories that beg to be erased away. Some memories are lost while others remain and thinking about memories makes me think, what memories do others have of me?

2008-12-04T05:03:00.000-08:00

It is either the overload of Mcdonald's or the overeating, or the lack of exercise that is causing it, but I felt a contraction in my chest today. It wasn't a drawn out contraction, just felt like a lump of food was stuck in my lungs for a couple of minutes, very much like how the oesophagus feels when you swallow a large chunk peanut buttered bread too quickly without sufficient chewing.

I hope it is nothing serious.

2008-11-30T00:06:00.000-08:00

A ceaseless quest for perfection may begin as an amusing quirk, but it gets frustrating and tiring when you start applying that to everything you do. It consumes you and governs your life. You throw away a humongous bowl of batter, that you had spent an hour mixing because it doesn't taste the way you want it to; you throw away iced butterflies and fondant shapes because in your eyes they look ugly, and you couldn't possibly have the heart to give them to anyone. You look in the mirror and truly despise that ugly thing that stares dolefully back at you.

"And why does it keep spewing that way?
I mean, you know, I mean..."

"I know exactly what you mean," I said,
Eyeing the blond highlights in your black hair
And your blue lenses the shadow of a foreign sky.
"It spews continually if only to ruffle
its own reflection in the water; such reminders
will only scare a creature so eager to reinvent itself."

-Sa'at, Alfian, 1998 "The Merlion", One Fierce Hour, p. 22

2008-11-24T06:06:00.000-08:00

"Truth is so obscure in these times, and falsehood so established, that, unless we love the truth, we cannot know it" ---- Blaise Pascal, Pensees

"Lots of people try to say that all truth is relative or subjective but no one lives that way. Most of the time when we cop out on truth, we have a reason: we don't want to live by it."

I've taken the above quotes from a reply D. made to C.'s note. In a strange way, they sum up what I've been battling with today. God perhaps does have a quirky sense of humour, but it's amazing how He speaks to us. Sometimes, just sometimes, like today, out of free will, we, or rather I choose to live my life not according to truth, but rather by falsehood. This is a little hard to explain, but when there's a moral battle at stake, sometimes, it's vanity which governs the way we think and feel. In this case, I chose to allow vanity to consume me. It is so deceptive, this green, azure serpent that coils around your heart. It persuades, it cajoles and finally you give in only to be bitten and you realise that momentary pleasure leads only to a spiral of darkness and a vicious cycle of sin. Sin perpetuates itself and spiritual attacks strike fast and fatally - where it hurts the most. Sin can be likened to Pandora's box - you open it just for a mere glimpse and it swallows you completely. It only takes a tiny taste of that poisoned apple, before you become addicted to its temporal sweetness and you crave more of it. It's like power. Power excites the mind and drives the senses. We forget however how poisonous it is and slowly we die from the deadly venom. We die because it's dangerous. It's dangerous because you are not aware of its influence. It's dangerous because we crave the false security it provides and because we choose to succumb to its siren's call, only to feel worse than we first began. Sin, Vanity, Pride... many guises, but all fatal, eats you, devours you, renders you impotent. It laughs at your stupidity and delights in your fall from Grace.

God help us, God help me - stupid people we are.

2008-11-17T03:22:00.000-08:00

Two days ago, the HDB people came knocking on our doors. Remember the last time I posted about the $2000 + deficit in payment, no thanks to the zealous efforts of the dad, NOT paying his side of the bills? Well, guess what? While he said he will settle it, according to HDB, the lack of payment has risen to $5000 + . Apparently someone has been quietly NOT PAYING his side of the agreement. I wonder how long more it is before our house finally gets confiscated by the relevant authorities and we have to go begging in the streets. BAH! Bloody piece of shit.

2008-11-05T05:22:00.000-08:00

I'm wondering if the advent of facebook signifies the end of blogging. Facebook, I think, creates an alternative space, where the self comes alive abeit virtually and vicariously through the posted comments, the inter-social exchanges, the photographs and videos. The boundaries of space are indeed reworked when we realise that there is actually no real space, but a thread of databits which we take for real. In defining the self through your posted profile, and whatever virtual traces you leave behind, in living in the perpetual "now" through your status updates, we create an avatar of who we really are. When the chatbox pops up, we believe that we are truly talking face to face with so-and-so and the image either takes the place of the real or becomes the real. This is the hyper-reality that Baudrillard was talking about and it is this very same almost instantaneous response mechanism that engages us and keeps us going back to facebook. Rather than writing out how your day went on a blog page, in retrospect, facebook becomes an extension of your present self. The "is" in most status updates is the most deceptive. You are simultaneously doing whatever you are typing and in that sense, your status becomes a performative mechanism that transform your readers perception of you and who or what you are.

Having said that, a blog is definitely conceived as a much more private space, where greater insight can be given about the self or person authoring the blog. (Although this is a general misconception and whatever you publish online is in fact public domain) The blog is usually where a person pours out his or her personal thoughts and emotions, and the blog provides a space for deeper honesty. However, much as it may appeal to the voyeur in us, because we think we are gaining valuable insights into a person's life, we may find that with bloglocks, or any other form of privacy enforcement mechanisms, this may not be the case and we might end up none the wiser. Still, how private can blogs be? Who is to say that there isn't someone secretly reading your entries from the blog companies involved? But please don't get paranoid, I'm only postulating.

2008-11-02T20:31:00.001-08:00

2008-11-02T05:52:00.000-08:00

Avenue Q. was simply phenomenal! It was laugh-out-loud hilarious, it was sexy, it was edgy, it was contemporary, it was bloody fricking good!

2008-10-30T23:10:00.000-07:00

The Cathay Picturehouse is becoming my favourite movie cinema by virtue of the many edgy, fantastic arthouse films it brings in. What I am saddened by is the idea that people pooh-pooh arthouse films all the time, simply because they don't understand what is going on, or they would prefer frivolous offerings like Epic Movie. I would concur that there are perhaps some arthouse films which are difficult to appreciate and comprehend, but there are many other arthouse films which give voice to the contemporary and give insight into particular issues. Eric Khoo's My Magic for example, and the film I caught yesterday, Talk To Me. Talk To Me is set in the America of the 1960s, 70s and 80s where racism and class differences played defining roles in governing social behaviour (although they still do abeit disguised in other forms). Central to this film is Petey Greene, a rough-talking, ex-convict who becomes a radio disc jockey on WOL radio and it is he who played a definitive part in uniting the Black people during the time of the death of Martin Luther King.

What I liked about the film was how it exposed the different facades we put on, how it explored notions of acceptance and belonging and how we often mould ourselves into people we don't really want to be, just to fit in, or to make others happy. If it weren't M18, due to the use of course language, I would think it's something that everyone should watch, because it's good and that's it.

2008-10-28T23:26:00.000-07:00

Every fibre and nerve within me is restless. It's like an energiser bunny trying to rip off its bunny suit and jump off into the horizons. I am itching to be involved with stage work or a film. Although I know that they will not provide very viable long-term career options for me, I am itching to do something with them anyhow.

Yesterday I went for my Masters pre-admission medical checkup and the doctor suddenly went into this tirade of the need to lose weight. Very strange considering how I never did ask him anything about it. He just went, "Oh you want to lose weight right? What are you doing now about your fitness?" and he rattled on about commitment, cutting down portions, walking because it's a good thing.... You know you're plus size when the doctor begins to talk about weight loss, even though it is not part of the medical checkup nor something requested.

I realised I should have signed up for the international masters thingy, because doing a Literary Studies masters in NUS is intensely limiting. I realised too, that due to a conflict of interests between doing a necessary S & D course and doing masters, that I will only be able to do Literature modules in my first semester (and hopefully it's only for my first semester). Thank goodness, I've already done Asian International Cinema. It's a pity that I can't do Classical Theories of Asian Theatre which falls on a Wednesday. I will have to keep reminding myself that I chose to be a poor academic in making (I don't understand how everyone thinks students doing their Masters are rich, especially when NUS only gives a stipend of $1500, and I've my Tuition Fee loan to pay off and there's a need to give my mum at least $400 a month, leaving me with a mere $200 to subsist on) because this is a long term investment and I am working towards my dreams of teaching Theatre Studies and, AND with a masters degree, I'll be able to earn so much more.

2008-10-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

I'm off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz...

The Wizard of Oz by iTheatre was a breath of fresh air in the stale circles of theatre. A stage adaptation of the 1939 Victor Fleming movie of the same name, it was remarkably faithful to the movie and I was simply amazed by what a high production values it had - from the Paul Pistore puppets (this is the very same puppeteer who has worked on Hollywood blockblasters like Batman Returns and Man in Black!!), to the fantastic costumes; From the great singing to the engaging acting (I am officially a fan of Rayann Condy, who played Elmira Gultch and the Wicked Witch of the West and of Robert Jenkin, who played Hickory and the Tin Woodman)... it was like I had taken a tumble in a tornado and had landed in the enchanting land of Oz.

It was definitely an extremely entertaining and endearing musical that anyone who is a child or who grew up watching The Wizard of Oz or the adult who wants to re-discover his or her inner child again should watch. It was so whimsical, so spectacular and so adorable that I couldn't help but fall in love with it and you would probably fall in love with it too!

The Wizard of Oz will be running from now until the 15th of November 2008 at the Drama Centre, National Library. Do catch it if you can. This overgrown and big (possibly gargantuan) child loved it to bits.

2008-10-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

This is a completely random post, but I was just thinking about how there is such a thin fine line between zealousness for God and overscrupulosity. How does one draw the balance between doing every thing correctly, perfectly and according to the rulebook and taking a step back to say that hey God doesn't mind a bum note and we shouldn't be too overtly concerned with the rubrics? The Martha/Mary story comes to mind. Martha was in a complete state of fretfulness. She was rushing about - tidying, cooking, trying to make her home as hospitable as possible. Mary on the other hand just sat by the Lord and gave Him her fullest attention. The moral of the Martha/Mary story is that we often let ourselves get entangled in the web of the nitty-gritties and we often forget who it is or for what purpose we do things. I admit that I am very much like a Martha in this aspect and should work for stillness. To be like a Mary and just sit by the Lord - giving Him my fullest attention. Although that is extremely hard work and I willingly let myself be swept away by the voices of the world which may seem more attractive than the voice of the Lord sometimes.

There are quite a number of things that call for my attention - my recent health, worries about paying off the academic loans when payments are called for next year, worries that my MA modules may clash with the speech and drama course, worries about my mum and my sister, taking on the role of an assistant conductor in Ephrem... there are simply too many things which crowd my mind. Sometimes, jealousy and envy play mind games with me as well and I end the day feeling exhausted. I think the hyper-kinetic energy I exude when I am with people is simply a facade. I am very much a human being - torn, vulnerable and alone.

2008-10-20T01:20:00.000-07:00

I thought it was okay, but apparently there were still some stones which were not completely flushed out. Yesterday I freaked out, because there was blood I could see in the urine. I will definitely have to cut the taboo foods completely - sugar, salt, fried stuff, caffeine... I will have to start exercising again too, because that apparently does wonders for stones in the bladder or kidney.

I feel tired. It seems like I'm a fifty year old man surviving in the body of a twenty-five year old. It is crazy how my body seems to be breaking down within me and this truly scares me, because I have so many things ahead of me - the masters course, the academic loans to pay off, the job that was offered me at JG... so many things. The body is not co-operating dammit!

On a happier note, it's two more days to the END of relief teaching at that school from hell. Whoo hoo!

2008-10-17T07:26:00.000-07:00

I have an issue with getting things that people don't actually want. You know how some people like to recycle the things they receive, or give you the gifts they've tried and don't exactly like? Well my stand is, at least re-package the bloody thing so that it at least looks new or unopened. Don't you think it's very rude to receive something that is already opened?!? It turns me off completely, when I receive something with an obviously tempered seal. Gifts, like all gifts have to come from the heart. If you wouldn't want to receive it yourself, why give it to another person?

2008-10-13T09:25:00.000-07:00

I just came back from the most delightful dessert degustation by Chef Gerard Lewis at Rogues. Apple crumble with a pandan cuppucino, cheesecake with raspberry air, orange jelly with lychee foam and sabayon, Hennessy chocolate cake with salted peanuts and poprocks and a hot molten chocolate Manjari cake for a spectacular finish. I like how Chef Gerard puts fun into his desserts with the use of molecular gastronomy and I love how the different textures and tastes complement each other so well and it's such great value for money. Five plated dessert courses for $25 nett! Where else can you get fantastic quality pared with a fabulous ambience?

It is such a pity that this will be the very last time Chef Gerard will be doing this. At least at Rogues anyway.

I am not looking forward to work tomorrow. *sigh* AND I want to return to gymming. I miss body combat... lots...

As a digression, according to some Flower quiz, I'm apparently a carnation. A carnation! Although the qualities the quiz describes are quite accurate though... hmmm...

You are down to earth and grounded.
You tend to be more traditional than trendy.
Your confidence gets you through anything.
People trust you and are very loyal to you

2008-10-07T08:43:00.000-07:00

My eyebrows have been twitching irritatingly non-stop this past week. I would think it's a depressed nerve, and some people would say that someone is thinking very hard of me, but in some sense, I feel like something big, or life changing, or traumatic is going to happen. I just pray that whatever happens, God will be present to see us through it.

I got the official letter of acceptance into the masters programme today and while I am excitied about starting term, it turns out the supervisor allocated is a professor whom I completely do not know nor worked with, so that is a little scary, but I suppose everything happens in its own time and everything has its own reason for being.

It has been a tiring few days. My health of late has become increasingly wonky. The bladder is still not functioning as well as it should, the increased water intake has caused me to swell up with slight water retention, and the eczema on the legs is not exactly going away... I'll be visiting a polyclinic after work tomorrow, to see if I can get some referral to the National Skin Centre. Somehow, I have a feeling it might be linked to blood-sugar levels. I probably need to do an overall health check, which in some ways I'm glad for MA admission, because prior to admission, I would need to undergo a full body health check up.

Sunday also saw me conducting for the first time. While it is scary and I can't keep timing for nuts, nor do I have the necessary musical knowledge to read notes or to play a musical instrument, I have somehow become the assistant conductor to EMM. Nonetheless, the song I conducted was Thank You Lord for the Trials and I cannot help but think how apt the song is. I'm taking it as a sign that this is probably what God wants me to do for now, as this song was also E's first song playing the bass and S's first song on the drums. I am also struck by the lines, "thank you Lord for the trials that come my way, that I may grow each day, as I let You lead..." If this is what God wants me to do, He will provide me the necessary skills and the strength to carry out His will. I can only grow, if I let Him lead.

2008-10-02T09:31:00.000-07:00

Can deep love and intense grief ever be articulated? Perhaps, Eric Khoo's latest, My Magic gives these two wordless and often silent emotions voice. Needless to say, I loved it to bits.

2008-09-28T07:36:00.000-07:00

Celebrated the feastday of the archangels today and while there was a buffet after Mass as it is the custom, the food catered was horrible. Some trays of beehoon were burnt, while others were too salty.

Went to catch Mama Mia the movie and I swear I could literally hear Dr. L's voice talking about nostalgia, how it is the songs that drive the simple plot... I think I miss school and academic life. Yes, someone please inject a little brillance into my life. I can't deal with obnoxious, bitchy HODs who are jealous of my qualifications, and thus stomp to the front of the class when I am in the midst of giving my lesson, to RUDELY take over the class, and prove with a smirk that you're one-up on me. Thanks to your concerted show of manners, the class doesn't listen to me anymore, but I digress. Mama Mia was funny in some parts, but I felt that there were parts which could have been better, for example, I would have expected a musical type genre, which has ABBA songs in it, to milk the kitsch and the campiness of nostalgia, something which would evoke and affect the audience to dance and sing along, but it didn't. I think it might have been due partly to how wonky GV's sound system was, and also in large part, due to the quite sedated audience who didn't quite belong to the ABBA era-I saw audience members as young as primary school kids. There were quite a number of popular culture references, but very few people caught them though. I guess the screen experience is different from a live theatre experience and thus, film has to work all the harder, which is why spectacle like the Moulin Rouge, or Chicago worked. Mama Mia was unfortunately flat. The subtitles didn't work either, for I was reminded of those cheesy karaoke videos with fake models and incongruous settings more than anything. I think I enjoyed the company more than the movie though...

Anyway, I've been tasked to cut salt, sugar and caffeine completely from my diet, or face the possible consequences of a damaged bladder and spoilt kidneys. Apparently there is some stone circulating in my urinary system. The best case scenario is that the stone dissolves by itself and passes out in my urine, but in the worse case scenario is that I'll have to undergo an operation to remove the stone. I have a gut feeling that I ought to return to the convalescence diet I was on after cellulitis, to aid natural healing, but we'll see what the doctors say on my next appointment.

2008-09-11T04:50:00.000-07:00

After seven years of companionship, the phone could not take the stress of being jabbed at continuously, shouted loudly in ear and flung across the floor countless times. It went berserk one day and simply fell apart....

Oh well, it's hello to my spanking new Nokia 2680 Slide. While it doesn't have as many functions as the E51 (Can you hear my heart cracking up into a million and one pieces?) and isn't as user friendly, for instance I can't mass sms like it is in my habit to, nor can I upload pictures and videos as easily as I could with the E51, which only needed a usb cable - the 2680 can't connect directly to the computer and pictures have to be sent abeit small and compressed via email, it is nonetheless, a useful phone that actually stores my contacts by alphabetical order. Whoo hoo! I will have to recoup my contacts though. Many went missing when I switched. :( Maybe one day, I'll get the E51 again... but for now, this is good enough.

September has been a busy month so far. While I have settled in to the vomit inducing routine of teaching unruly beasties and screwed the lesson of which the HOD sat in to observe me today badly, the first weeks of September have been days to remember. Fel coordinated this massive dinner/singapore flyer surprise for Steph and I honestly haven't had so much fun in a while. 165m above the ground and cam-whoring with 22 helium balloons and the CSS peeps... now that was literally a top of the world experience! The 1101 gang took a different slant to mile-high entertainment when we celebrated Wai Wai's birthday in Changi airport. For some strange reason, I really love the airport-the strange liminal space of comings and goings... I am privileged indeed to be in the company of great friends and to have been able to witness the most beautiful sunset I've seen in a long time!

And yes! I baked! Vanilla-cocoa cupcakes with vanilla buttercream and fondant butterflies and piggies. That was a mouthful, a very delicious one indeed! I am so going to bake some more these few days!

2008-09-02T08:33:00.000-07:00

I am filled with a passion to write something, but words fail me. My mind's a blank. It's an empty canvas as I contemplate the power of words and images to move, to create, to speak to the depths of one's soul. Is it possible to divest so much of the self, that one's writing and one's image become the self? Yet it is a paradox to say that something else can become the self, when the self does not even know who he is. To know - is that even necessary? We all know who we are, we merely forget, ignore or busy ourselves with a thousand other fancies. In truth, we are afraid to confront the self. For inherent in the self lies the soul and the soul bears the marks of a thousand transgressions, sins and hurts too many to count. Can one dare to look into the eyes of the mirror's reflection, to see beyond the phantasmogoria of light and to see one's soul as it were? Bare, naked and vulnerable? This disturbs us and we turn our glance away. We find things to occupy the self, for if the self is distracted, it need not listen to the voice speaking to it in the still silence. That prompting voice makes the soul afeared and so it busies itself with frivolity. It busies itself to override and block out that voice.

Memory is not the truth we believe it to be. We continually destroy and reinvent our memories so that our lives may appear to be a manifestation of our innermost desires. It is a mere delusion which serves to seduce us and to take our attentions away from what is to know and to comprehend the self. The self, in turn constantly remakes itself, so that it may appear acceptable to the people outside the self. We put on multiple selves to mould ourselves so that we may always belong, so that we may always be accepted. Yet the self also forgets that people judge and people often are unforgiving about falsity.

While youth allows us to get away with folly, youth, unfortunately, like beauty, is ephemeral. It lasts only for a moment and is blown away like the seeds of a dandelion. Transitory possessions, youth and beauty pass by like rattling trains on a neverending journey. Each stop being further away from the other. Who appreciates the beauty of the mind and the richness of the spirit and tenderness of the heart? I am but a destitute. A person desperately clinging on to a torn and tattered paper lantern. Can one find happiness, by indulging the senses? I think in a bid to find happiness, one would more often drown in the mire of the senses. The brain, seeks pleasure like a drug. Pleasure drives it, pleasure excites and ignites the neurons. Pleasure is derived from the self influencing someone else and pleasure is derived when we project our own needs and desires onto someone or something else. These however as they occur, only tell us of their impermanence, of their flirting nature. Their favours wax and wane like the disdainful moon. She has seen too many things and she scorns the fickleness of men.

Sense ebbs further away as I am overpowered by sleep. The human body though magnificent, needs rest too. The mind however great, needs the sweet nectar of sleep. Sleep refreshes. In sleep, we may dream.

2008-09-02T03:34:00.000-07:00

It sucks to be me...

2008-08-31T07:32:00.000-07:00

I'm not really sure what has happened to me, but over time, I have become less tolerant and patient of others. In normal circumstances, I would normally ignore or laugh irritations away, but it seems apparent, that I have become cankerous, cranky, grumpy and angsty too. This became all the more manifested after I signed up to be a relief teacher - as if it was not already frustrating to teach monsters who couldn't care less. Perhaps I am projecting too high an expectation on those poor kids, who probably came from bad family backgrounds and circumstances and thus are the way they are today, but somehow I feel that there is no excuse in not putting in effort to at least listen, or display some semblance of manners. How bloody rude and obnoxious can people get??As someone has said, maybe Brianhyde is popping out his monstrous face. Go back! I don't want Brianhyde. I want Brianekyll back!

God grant me the serenity to accept the things
I cannot change, courage to change the things I can and
wisdom to know the difference.

God grant me the serenity to deal with all the idiots that cross my path as well. (And the wisdom to know where to hide the bodies :P )

I need to get out more. I need a breath of fresh air. I need the peace that only God can give. These few weeks have seen an emotional roller coaster ride in my life - a ride of worrying, frustration, envy, anger, irritation, tiredness, sadness, contemplation...It would be an understatement if I said I feel overwhelmed. I need to start dating God and spending more time with Him.