Nightwish - Ghost Love Score

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Nightwish - The Poet And The Pendulum

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Iron Maiden - Fear Of The Dark

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What.

One lives the bulk of his life in a few short moments of it.
Why should one lament the fleetingness of beautiful moments?

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:15 PM
0 comments

~

A sorrow that brings no tears.
It is hangs drearily,
like a perpetual fog.
Passively it remains.
It makes no move,
it merely stays.
Stays to obscure,
stays to tire.
It would not go away.
Days become dull,
thoughts become saddened.
Grasping at it,
to cast it away.
It remains untouchable,
yet felt in the bones.
Darkness, darkness.
Who would want this I have to share?

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

6:58 PM
0 comments

~

There you are, there you are.
We meet again, or not?
The words come, the words go,
losing their magic as they travel.
Divorced from tone, pitch and pace,
spared from blurts, sobs and sneezes.
Facial expression no longer integral,
eye contact no longer feasible.
A silent nod, a friendly touch,
these subtle aspects of social interaction;
they are gone.
The words become forced, bold and somewhat improper,
so as to compensate for the magic they've lost.
It ought to bring you in contact,
yet it reminds that you're apart.
To remember, or forget?
To seek, or forsake?
Sometimes, memories only create illusions.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:57 AM
0 comments

~

In two days I will be entering National Service. Before that, I wish to write something to leave an image of my current self: my beliefs, my lifestyle and my mindset.

I believe that there can be no definitive good or bad. There is no underlying moral fabric that cannot be disputed. I believe in the individual, not in the greater good. The individual does things only because of himself - because of the potential consequences of every action on himself. I am sick of moral debates. Poverty, war, famine - I do not care. While it may be a "fact" that there are over six billion people in the world, to me, there are far fewer. The only people that exist are the ones I know and will know. To extrapolate and imagine the humanity of the others is fruitless imagination. I am self-centered. I do not see any other possible way to live. My cares and concerns are based on individual interest. Love cannot be selfless. This is my underlying philosophy. I base my life on these beliefs.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:38 AM
0 comments

~

Woe be to him who shrouds himself in fantasy, heedless of the actuality of reality.

But what is fantasy? What is reality?

We ought to understand that reality, as is fantasy (the meaning of it which we agree upon), is conceived within the mind. We only know the world through our eyes, we only gain insight of the world through our own mental process. The world that is factual and concrete is not the world we see or understand. What we see is a tinted refraction - that is reality (the only reality we can ever imagine of). Thus we realise that fantasy and reality might be one and the same. They are both conceptualisations within the mind, they are both angles from which we view the world, they are both our ideas of what life is. That is truth.

Now we cannot seek truth in the way we thought we could. There is no ultimate answer to life, no final solution, no definitive way to make meaning of it all. Truth cannot be sought, because it is not out there somewhere where we can travel to or reach. It is not hidden in some crevice, not among some clouds, not within a buried chest. We cannot find it because it is not anywhere at all. Truth is created. Truth is discovered. Truth occurs within us.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

1:58 PM
0 comments

~

I am a wanderer in my own home.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

10:51 PM
0 comments

~

There are too many people in the world. So many, yet so few of significance. Why must I be accountable to the numerous people that I do not know nor care about? Because there is no choice, because they are here with me. So many people that I'd never even meet, so many I'd never even know, yet they are, they influence me. Because I'd never know them, they're no longer humans; they become factors of influence. Like the sun, the moon, the stars. Like the rivers, the seas and the winds. Cold, impersonal things that exert influence on my life. Things I have to deal with. Such crudeness in perception is forgivable, for who should be expected to be a friend to all of the billions? Billions of unrecognisable faces, billions of faces that elude memory. A lifetime of effort forgets even their names. It's hard. It's mad. To go about living among them, perceiving that they're just things, not people. And to them I too am.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

6:45 PM
0 comments

~

Under glaring light,
life loses its mystique.
Cold and raw;
no, I don't need light.
I wish to shroud myself in darkness,
place layers of veils to taint the images.
No don't drag me away from my cosy cove.
No don't extract me from my cave of mirrors.
Take me back, take me back!
Why am I drifting away?
Shattered eyes, soul agape.
To where I go I do not know.
Why! I thought I could be strong alone;
whatever may come, I'd overcome.
But I overwhelm myself,
deeds diminished in the shadow of ambition.
Quickly, all too quickly,
I find myself no longer myself;
a whirlpool of thoughts and memories.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

12:55 AM
0 comments

~

After drawing out my own calender of this month of December and marking out the days I've been doing this and that, I realise I've had only 6 days free until yesterday.

An account of this and that since the end of 'A' levels:

30th Nov (Mon) - End of 'A' levels. 08S13 Class Outing: Dinner at Lot 1 and trip to Night Safari
1st Dec - Band Practice in the morning
2nd Dec - Band Practice in the morning
3rd Dec - Band Practice in the morning
4th Dec - Band Practice in the morning, Band farewell slumber party in the late afternoon
5th Dec - Sleepover at Sherry's place with others
6th Dec - KL Band Exchange Trip
7th Dec (Mon) - KL Band Exchange Trip
8th Dec - KL Band Exchange Trip
9th Dec - KL Band Exchange Trip; returned by afternoon
10th Dec - Free (Post Exchange fatigue)
11th Dec - Free
12th Dec - Free
13th Dec - Diarrhea early in the morning at 4am (This was seriously fucked up. I went to toilet an uncountable number of times, visited a 24hr clinic with a lousy doctor, reached home in time to vomit with my head spinning, then slept for a mere 3 hours before waking up feeling crappy and shitting again and again. Unable to sleep at all and groaning like an animal, I had to do something to get my mind off the discomfort, without doing something mentally or physically draining. What did I do? I watched 6 episodes of Korean Drama in a day.)
14th Dec (Mon) - Still a little sick, but better; went to Kinokuniya with my sister
15th Dec - LAN gaming at Clementi (Left 4 Dead 2)
16th Dec - To Queensway Shopping, then LAN gaming at Clementi again (Left 4 Dead 2)
17th Dec - Free
18th Dec - Free
19th Dec - Free
20th Dec - BandFest Concert starting in mid-afternoon
21st Dec (Mon) - 2/5 Chalet
22nd Dec - 2/5 Chalet
23rd Dec - 2/5 Chalet
24th Dec - Free (Post Chalet fatigue)
25th Dec - Christmas dinner with relatives
26th Dec - Sleepover at Aaron's place with others
27th Dec - Sleepover at Aaron's place with others

There actually was a period from 10th to 19th when I would've been free to set myself on a nice routine. But I got distracted. I fell sick - both my body and my mind. Something happened. Maybe it was nothing, but being on the verge of falling sick I guess my mind made it into something and I was lost. This thing about emotions. Messed up. So I couldn't bear just staying at home and doing my own things. My will was breaking. As soon as I partially recovered, I wanted to go out. I wanted to play something, anything.

Maybe I was too ambitious to want to do so much in so little time. Well, I can't deny I have learned some things too. I have improved myself. Learned from my sick period. Learned to write better along with reading a quarter of the thick book published by Reader's Digest - How to Write and Speak Better. I've read one chapter (introductory one) of H2 Economics. But there's so much more, and I only have one month left. Maybe I should prioritise.

As for fitness training, it's much easier. It doesn't actually take that much discipline, as compared to reading and learning things. Although I've not exercised as much as I've liked, I've been doing chin-ups daily thanks to the chin-up bar I recently got at home. Chin-ups has been my worst enemy apart from sit-and-reach. Well, glad to say, I can do 6 proper chin-ups at one go now, compared to none at the start of the year. I expect to train untill I can do at least 11 at one go. When my routine was on, and even during the KL Band Exchange Trip, I do my 60-60-60 combo daily: 60 push-ups, 60 sit-ups, 60 squats, that is. (It used to be 50-50-50 but I increased it.) I resumed it today once again. I couldn't last week because of chalet and sleepover. Also, I've run 5km 4 times untill now, and I ran 10km today. (I doubled it because I felt 5km wasn't enough training.) I run from the Esso Petrol Station near my home to and along Bukit Batok Road, then turn right into the Park Connector along the new road linking Bukit Batok Road to Sunshine Place, past Sunshine place with a right turn to run by the Keat Hong army camp (which looks abandoned) and with another right turn back to where I start. That's a 5km round. I ran 2 rounds today. I was thinking of carrying a bag holding filled water bottles to run but I suppose it'd look a little awkward because my bagpacks are all brightly coloured. One red, one orange. I have to be stronger. It is why I train.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:44 PM
0 comments

~

I have to write again.

My sense of time has been disrupted by the events this week, with a stay at a chalet and a sleepover. I have not had time to follow any proper daily routine this entire week. The past two weeks were similarly disrupted too. It's somewhat annoying to see time pass so quickly and realise that there's so much left undone. Annoying because it makes me feel like I've accomplished so little in so much time. I need to focus.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

6:39 PM
0 comments

~

Why should I improve my Chinese?

Proficiency in a particular language is a skill. Like all skills, learning and improving a particular language involves costs and benefits. Costs include time, effort and money expended, while the main benefits of learning a particular language comes with the usage of it - the frequency, efficiency and depth of usage. Other less tangible benefits include sense of pride, identity and well-being.

Why Chinese (Mandarin) then? Because it is important, and as a result the benefits to be gained outweigh the costs. First, I shall examine the importance in the ability to use Chinese proficiently, from the standpoint of myself, a Singaporean Chinese. After which, I would take these very benefits and do a cost-gain analysis to demonstrate the practicality of improving Chinese.

When judging whether a particular language is important, I must first note its relevance to my circumstances. In Singapore, Chinese (Mandarin) is arguably a predominant language used in casual talk between Chinese. Although the primary language is English, and conversation between different races takes place in English or the infamous Singlish, given that a large proportion of the population is Chinese including myself, I encounter the need to speak Chinese frequently. It is thus relevant to me, and being proficient at it would allow me to communicate in my daily life more effectively. It is of importance to me.

Some may then argue that since a majority of the population speaks English, I should still be able to communicate with other Chinese in English. I do not disagree, but speaking English as an alternative is limited. Firstly, there remains a significant number of people, especially the elderly, who speak only Chinese. Conversing with them in English will not do. Also, speaking in English may sometimes, even though not justifiably so, give others the impression of over-formality or arrogance. Though being the primary language, English in Singapore still has an elite feel to it. English was a foreign language introduced into Singapore, and reinforced through the education system. Most Singaporeans (the older generation) learned English in schools, not through their parents. The comfortable language, for them, to use in everyday casual speech is their mother tongue - for Chinese, Chinese (Mandarin mostly, not forgetting dialects). Even now, after many years, English still does not quite fit right in casual speech. Singlish testifies. (Singlish contains much of mother tongue languages.)

Furthermore, there is my personal sense of pride, identity and well-being. To me, I ought to be ashamed to speak and write Chinese poorly. Race is inexorably binded to language. It is "normal" for a Chinese to speak Chinese. Chinese is most effectively used by Chinese. When in a society of Chinese, a Chinese-speaking Chinese blends in, just as a Russian-speaking Russian in a Russian society or a Japanese-speaking Japanese in a Japanese society. There's just this certain self-inclusiveness of Racial-Language culture that allows for optimal social interaction. This self-inclusiveness could perhaps be a contributing factor to non-tolerance between races, or racism. As a Chinese, the social benefits of improving my Chinese, as compared to, say, Japanese, are far greater. It is more comfortable for me, as a Chinese to speak Chinese in a Chinese society, than to speak Japanese in a Japanese society.

Besides speech, being proficient in Chinese is important because it makes available a huge volume of literature to me. I am an avid reader. What attracts me most about Chinese literature (as in writing of all sorts) is the cultural origin and influence. Chinese literature is largely influenced by Chinese culture, which is clearly much different from Western culture. It is only in the last century, with adequate advancement in navigation and transport technology, that Western and Chinese culture began to exert greater influence on each other. Long before, culture in Europe had already inter-mingled, with literature translated from one language to another, and Europeans learning multiple European languages. To me, English is sufficient enough, even though not entirely, in allowing me to understand European literature through their English translations. But Chinese literature is greatly different. For one, characters rather than alphabets are used. The characters themselves signify their meaning, more than their pronunciation. Translation from Chinese to English seems too inadequate for me, which is why I need to be proficient at Chinese to read Chinese literature.

Now to the costs of improving my Chinese. In my position, the costs of improving Chinese are minimal for various reasons. Already, I have a head start thanks to the compulsory mother tongue syllabus since Primary level (and also in Kindergarten). With this I can easily pick up the language and improve it further however weak I currently am, what with the added stimulus of being able to practice it on a daily basis both at home and out. These two boosts to my improvement of my Chinese may seem trivial, but they greatly reduce the costs of it - do not take them for granted. This point is easily illustrated when comparing to learning some other language, say, Japanese. Having completely no knowledge of Japanese, attempting to learn it, and to improve it to a level proficient enough for even simple conversation, is going to be a great costs. A lot of time, effort and money will be required, and the benefits that result from learning it are arguably lesser than that of Chinese: my justification above.

So given that the potential benefits of improving my Chinese are great and the costs are minimal, I can then rationally conclude that it is worth improving my Chinese.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:51 PM
0 comments

~

National Service

I will be due for National Service (NS) in a little more than one and a half months time. My Physical Employment Standard is PES B L1 (Fit for most operational vocations; Full BMT) despite my condition, Atopic Ezcema. But I guess it should be alright since the condition is improving with my taking of Traditional Chinese Medicine.

I am under no illusion that NS is going to be easy, especially the Basic Military Training (BMT). I have the impression that the running of things in NS is screwed up, given what I've heard from others and my observations during the Medical Checkup and Medical Review. I don't expect them to care about my welfare in NS. I don't expect them to even uphold justice by fair treatment of all individuals. I expect them to give me shit. I expect them to be prejudiced against me. That is why I must be strong, at least stronger than most others. I must easily handle physical tasks that others struggle with. The sanctuary of my mind shall remain intact as others falter and breakdown mentally. My mind would be sharp that I may learn quicker, what with the head start that I have from what I already learnt in National Cadet Corps (NCC). Might is Right. I will give them no chance to mess with me.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:28 PM
0 comments

~

What is progress? What is growth? How do we know that Life is getting better? How to we know that the life of Man is improving? What is good anyway?

Should better be defined as increased strength and capability? A person is better off being able to do 12 chin-ups compared to none. A person is better off earning $10K a month compared to $2K a month with the same effort and time expended. Man is better off dominating all other living organisms on Earth. Man is better off if he were to gain the capability, via technology and social organisation, to survive crises otherwise obliterating. Stronger, stronger, stronger. But what does this lead to? A whole volume of individuals venturing into the unknown to conquer... what? To become stronger and stronger. For what reason? None other than itself. To become stronger because they have to become stronger, because it is what they do. Because Life to them is about survival and the stronger survive better.

Or, should better be defined as increased standards of morality? People should be more able to make humane decisions. Why? Because they are human? What is so pure and holy about Man himself that he should seek morality? What is good, and what is bad? How do we know? Is killing a fellow human bad? What if we do it only to ensure the survival of the rest of humanity? Is it still bad? Why is killing even bad in the first place if not for the fact that the usual instance of killing may deny the world a useful pair of hands and a thinking mind? What if the world were such that surplus weak should perish and not consume limited resources in order that the strong might live on and triumph in the name of humanity? What is the meaning of this word "humanity" anymore? Is it the cold raw strength in survival?

Why do we struggle, why do we try? Because we have to? Because we want to? Because we "feel" the "need" to? Yes! But no! It cannot be! But it is, isn't it? Because we have to want to feel the need to so we do what we're meant to. With this I forgive all absurd and irrational beliefs in divine beings and divine purposes.

So then, we turn to happiness. But do we find it? Or does it even exist at all? In this life, is it important to be happy? Why? Because it is our one and only life that we should be happy as much as possible? Why does it matter? Two people, born on the same day, dead on the same day. The first lived a happy life. The second lived a miserable life. But what do you see? What do I see? I see two dead corpses, lying side by side. Maybe on the first there's a smile, on the second a frown. But they're dead. Dead people feel nothing. Dead people are dust. To associate the familiar figures with they who were once alive is only self-deception. Ah, but that is not the way to look at it. It is too pessimistic. Why be so pessimistic? Being a fool, being stupid, being irrational is better. As long as I can be happy, yes?

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:39 PM
0 comments

~

I am scaring myself. If I don't control myself I might, anytime in the next few hours, do something awfully stupid. I need to keep myself occupied. So I'm here writing. Uneasy. In my mind I was already forming an outline of what I was going to do. No, no. Ridiculous. I cannot lie on my bed; I would not have clear judgement in bed. Just like that night. I don't even know the difference between courage and foolishness anymore. Why is it so powerful? Absurdly powerful! It divides me. It turns my heart against my will. It fluctuates the strength of my body. I don't know which voice is from my heart, which from my will and which from my body, if there even is any difference between them. Because I cannot differentiate, I cannot choose. I cannot rationalise. I cannot think properly! Has emotion taken over my reason? Or has reason taken over my emotions? Or has some crazy chemicals been generated within my body to influence the two? Youth! Adolescence! Should I cherish this ridiculous phase of my life? How am I expected to control myself? I am very laughable. I forgive myself because I am still young. Then, how old is old enough?

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

12:02 AM
0 comments

~

Just move on.
At least I did try.
Many times I wished to give up,
but a part of me couldn't be pacified.
Well, so I did what I did knowing it was silly -
silly in both the act and the method
(there and then, what choice did I have?),
but surely my intent wasn't silly.
Sure enough, things turned out
unlike what I'd expected.
You know, hopes and all.
You wonder if those are but fantasy.
Quite a shock, though not surprising.
Your judgement anyway.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:55 PM
0 comments

~

Why do I write?

I write to improve the act of writing itself, as well as the language in which I do - English. It may seem that writing is simple. Of course, it is not. Even now as I write I do so cautiously, with my mind focused on translating my intent into the most appropriate words in the most appropriate arrangement and format. In the past, much of my writing aggregated into large chunky paragraphs, and I paid little attention to format and clarity. I merely conveyed my ideas as accurately as possible in words, without bothering to make my writing friendly to read. I thought that it didn't matter if people couldn't care to read. To me, then, my writing was "reserved" for those who would have taken the extra effort to unravel and comprehend my writing. I realise I wasn't exactly right. Ideas with substance do not always have to be difficult to comprehend.

I write to reinforce my self-learning. Everyday I learn things, be it through reading, training, playing, dreaming or socialising. Through writing about the things I have learnt and the ideas that present themselves to me, I can better understand them. By forcing myself to explain, I can pick out logical lapses or ambiguity in my thinking so that I can refine it further. I write so that what I learn becomes a part of me. A part of me that I can invoke and command at will to my purpose. Like a sword perfectly balanced in weight that it becomes one with the arm. Shifting, parrying, striking.

I write because it feels good. I derive satisfaction from carefully choosing and positioning words to express myself. Writing is an art that involves both creativity and logic: I love it. Writing, Language, English. I do not know which exactly, perhaps all, but I know I have a love for this thing I do. Why then would I so ardently write time and again, and take the effort to improve it? Everything is about Language. Life is about Language. Every act, every idea, every story, every emotion; they are all communicable only through Language. I write because I want to.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:18 PM
0 comments

~

I imagine there to be many who are or feel aimless after the end of the 'A' level examinations. Not myself.

A month before the start of my examinations, I was afraid. I was afraid because I was not prepared. I was afraid because my entire future could possibly be ruined due to my actions, or rather inaction, throughout the past two years. It was not because I was weak or incapable. But because the flame within me - my pride - was diminished in the shadow of the looming examinations. The shadow that oppressed me only because I had complacently allowed it.

Nevertheless, my complacent past was not wasted. Through it I had learned much, I had changed much. I wasn't a muddle-headed fool anymore. I awoke at the eleventh hour.

Time was my enemy. Every moment I spent idling I cursed. Every minute I had to waste disgusted me. I was a madman. It was a pathetic state, but a necessary one. And so, I told myself, never again would I be reduced to such.

Now that I am free, I have not forgotten. I am improving myself: Speech and Writing; Strength and Stamina; Willpower and Intellect; Economics, History, Philosophy; IT Skills. Why should learning be restricted to school curriculum? Learn to learn.

Not that I do these at the expense of leisure. I work towards a balanced life: activities that compose the mind and lift the spirit, with adequate sleep and rest. Fun and laughter too shall find their place. Now let me depart from my writing to my doing.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:32 PM
0 comments

~

Thinking too much, yet I have not forgotten to think simply. While thinking differently from others, sometimes I have to think like others. A mindset common to many is not necessarily a naive one.

Let me digress for a moment. In my writing, I have been avoiding examples. I have been trying to convey ideas generally, segregated from the life that conjures those ideas - that is, my life. Perhaps it is because I do not want my blog to be like others. I do not wish to rant about the day to day occurrences that are of no interest to the reader. Or maybe I am afraid to even mention my life because then, inevitably, those around me would be involved in my writing implicitly. For once, I shall dare to dare.

I wouldn't have considered myself one to watch serial dramas a while ago (I refer to those along the lines of Chinese, Korean, Japanese TV series). But a few days ago, I started watching a Korean drama (online) recommended by a dear friend.

Initially I thought I would be watching something rather ridiculous, since I somehow had an impression that those of that sort are draggy and naive. Perhaps I'd watched too much of those shown in Singapore when I was younger. Or, because I was younger. But I actually liked it. At the very least, the one I'm watching now is entertaining. The exaggerated behaviour of the characters and the dramatic development of the storyline made me laugh many times over.

However, the way I am disturbs me sometimes. It is unavoidable that little depth in storyline or character development comes with popular drama catered to the masses. Not that the development is poor - the story flows fluently and the characterisation is apt. But the lack of reality or "realness" in the story or characters distracts me sometimes. Is it the way reality is? Perhaps it's because of my pessimistic-leaning mindset. I am skeptical of goodness, of happiness, of love. I believe in strength, excellence and mortality.

I wonder if the way I am would do me any "good". I only have one life, why live it like a dead man? I doubt pure reason can sustain my struggle in life. It is fruitless. Perhaps feelings trump reason. Perhaps the heart has a reason that we cannot understand. But so fickle a thing, am I expected to rely on? Wait. It doesn't matter. I may not need to think about it at all. I could blindfold myself and walk into the unknown. I do not know fear.

I know the drama is not meant to be a lesson on ethics or life, nor some writer's masterpiece. But given the way I am, and the things I read, it can't be helped. The thoughts that go through my mind do not prevent me from enjoying the drama though. They just serve as a constant reminder that whatever I watch does not depict reality.

[Yet, it is possible that within fantasy there are fragments of reality.]

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

2:43 PM
0 comments

~

Fantasy: fanciful imaginations; so be it, but beautiful nonetheless.
Reality: life itself - some flux of events; alone uneventful, perceived inexplicable.
A bridge between them?

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

2:04 PM
0 comments

~

Give me all the freedom in the world,
and you'd rob me of my power to choose.
Why do I feel despair while others rejoice?

This world, this life; it has no truth.
I see the deceived are happily so,
while I, struggling for truth, none the better.

They say youth is the prime of life, the golden age.
But foolishness for inexperience frustrates me.
Yet I wish not for time to fly faster, only that I do not falter.

Affliction.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

4:12 PM
0 comments

~

So. What am I supposed to do? Am I to ramble here? As though it would be of any significance. But it appears that I would end up doing just that. Am I supposed to surprise you with something? Make you feel that I'm special? Who is special? Special is a weird term to use. We call someone "special" because he's different and unique from the rest. Not quite much like the rest. But then again, how is this "difference" and "uniqueness" quantified? Are there fixed criterion and certain attributes to look out for to consider one to be special? One, upon close examination, would realise that there isn't any difference between the difference between any two people and that between any other two people. That is, everybody, is different from every other, to the same extent. Similarity is due to biased vision - amplifying certain aspects and diminishing others. All there really is, is a whole volume of unique, non-superimposable, individuals. Did I just type that? I didn't intend to do it at first. When I started my mind was... not blank, but filled with else. You know there's just something weird about writing (or typing). Do I speak like this? I wouldn't think so. But hey, I think I know why. While in speaking, words are formed at the same rate at which they are heard simultaneously, in writing, words are formed at any rate independent of that of reading, and wholly completed before it. So right now, as I type, you are not seeing these words I have formed. They are mine, and mine alone, until I wish them to be viewable. I have the pleasure and luxury of time, to ponder and think, to edit and organise. Well, I really don't know what this post really is supposed to be about anymore. There's this thing that I don't understand. Why is it that sometimes someone wishes to tell another something so eagerly, one would write somewhere where what one writes may be seen by the other, rather than to give a direct message? What is this queer social behaviour of the human? Perhaps we want to be lucky or something. We want "special" things to happen. We want fate to appease us. But fate is not ours to command. Does that actually make sense? I guess so. I can't be bothered to try to clarify that odd explanation I have given. Oh no. Should I stop now? I know that if I continue this might go on for very very long. Well, it depends on what I intend this post to be about. But I haven't intended this post to be about anything in particular yet. There is something amusingly gratifying about a probabilistic freedom of expression. You know, this thing about blogging. When you post you feel good, even before anyone reads what you have posted. However, there is always a possibility that no one would ever read what you post, and a possibility that hundreds of people would read what you post. No, not here. This is not what communication is about. Communication is about certainty and mutuality.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:00 PM
0 comments

~

"Fiction" does not mean "something that is not real or true" but a kind of truth and a kind of reality most fully potrayed by the associated story.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:32 PM
0 comments

~

Are dreams really supposed to have some meaning?

You think you don't dream? You're wrong. Once you realise that you dream every time you sleep, and that you usually forget your dreams when you awake, and make an effort to remember them, you are entering a whole new bizarre world. At least that's what it is to me. Once you start writing down your dreams somehow, and extend the memory of your dreams beyond that hazy brief period after awaking, you can't stop remembering them. Each time you make an effort to remember a dream, you add some amount to your capacity to remember dreams. And soon you keep remembering dreams you are amused.

Imagine this, you're asleep early in the wee hours of the morning, and a bird calls out incessantly in a whistling manner. And in your dreams you conceive some annoying fat bitch whistling. Then your alarm rings, and when you awake you are intrigued to find that reality entered your dreams. You can still picture that image of the fat bitch whistling. You chuckle. You are so amazed by your dream that you note it down. Then, suddenly, for some reason the rest of your dream preceding that image floods you. You remember that in your dream you were late for an important event because you woke up late, but you're never a late person. You remember somehow reading the lengths of hollow depressions in souvenir boxes as musical scores. In your dream you correlate getting A's with smacking bees. You conceive some vampire god that approaches a girl to demand a pledge of loyalty. You imagine that some large rock statue in your house, though there isn't one, makes noise and awakes an annoying guardian, that happens to be a mix between a frog and an old man. Then you look down the list of notes of your past dreams. Once you dreamt of flimsy lockers in your ex-school building. You asked questions during a lesson and was ignored, and you cursed angrily in class. You apologise but are reported to the principal. And in the principal's office, a few students from another school gather around you and demand for your hair. They start shaving you and it feels good. Then you look in the mirror and realise your hair is messed up, but how could shaven hair be messy? Another teacher ignores you. A friend says: "Don't care, life is unfair.". Then in another dream you were hugging someone. And you had a checklist of who you have hugged and have not, even though in reality you don't actually hug people on a regular basis. And you dream about the inverse square law. Hamsters in disarray. Old and new uniforms. Walking and chatting with a girl you don't really know. Then in another dream: you're eating breakfast with someone on a cold morning. Then you somehow arrive at a "free" restaurant. You adjust your belt. Just when you look back up an unseen force whacks you. You are getting thrashed by some gangsters. Then suddenly you're out of the picture and you envision Elvis Presley in a fighting movie, but as a cartoon. And you're teleported yet again into a place where a group of girls of kindergarten age awake at the same time and one of them says something stupid. It goes something like this: "Never believe what others say." Then they start sharing secrets with each other. An example of a secret goes like this: "What is a locker?" One of them wants revenge! (For what?) And you find yourself tunneling through... a tunnel. You emerge at the end and are thrust into a horror movie. Skeletons are sneaking around. The movie is encased within a box-like screen. A screen within a box or something. There is a dim lamp at the side which can be turned on or off, or it flickers on and off. Then your view zooms out and you see rows and rows of fishtanks. In some of them, you see tiny dinosaurs spawning. And they are growing quickly into adult carnivores, soon to escape from that low barrier that separates them from you. And there is a problematic frog; you send a short message via mobile phone to ask someone how to solve it. Someone else interferes in your affair. That person starts nagging at you incessantly. You try to speak but you cannot vocalise the words you will. You feel helpless, you have to reposition yourself. And the built-up tension releases abruptly with an awkward call for help - in the real world. You're awake, you feel stupid for shouting "Help!" in the middle of the night. It's a little past midnight. You drink a glass of water and return to sleep. What the hell, you have another dream soonafter. In your next dream, you tell someone about your previous dream. Someone else chides you for the stupidity of your dream. You retort. You dream about a chinese journal in which you have to write about an uncle. But it's in English? You interrupt some meeting/gathering and a while after you join it you realise some familiar people... and an ex-crush. In another dream, someone you knew split into two separate personalities. Not just two personalities, but two separate people. And each seemed to be the same person until then you realise otherwise. In yet another dream, there is a russian church made of bread. It is, amazingly, built somewhere in the middle of a field between your house and the neighbourhood market. It is so small, it's like a double-decker bed! Then again, in some other dream, someone who has dropped out of school returns back to study and take the examinations. He is teased by the teacher, whom you don't exactly like. A chinese magazine cartoon with old-chinese-new-chinese writing defects? After school you rush to the library with another friend. But upon reaching there you are dismayed to realise that there are a bunch of Chinese Chinese talking noisily. In some other dream, you go to attend a gathering. On the way, in a toilet, in a bin, you see a bee-like wasp. Then outside the toilet, behind a shed, under a cart, you see rotting crap. You proceed to a familiar place that you visit periodically. It has changed. Only one person says "Hi" to you. Why is there a piano outdoors and left open? Some stranger is playing it. In one other dream, after studying at the library, you are going to be fetched to have dinner. But for some reason you return home before you are fetched. Then there's a water slide in your neighbourhood. Not really a waterslide, but a slide. Like sliding down a hill, a slope, sliding down anything really, but it's about sliding. You walk along a route home that feels familiar, but in reality you've seen nothing close to that sort. Cars move towards you and pass by you on the near right. (But in local roads, cars drive on the left) A movie review dinning session. A screen and a speaker. At your table, some guys are staring at you. Again, another dream. Keeping kittens in fishtanks. Visiting someone with an excuse pertaining to a sock and a shoe? In an auditorium you're watching something. A friend asks you to sit behind with...

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:36 PM
0 comments

~

What's the hold up?

All evidence and observations carefully examined and reasoned lead one to believe that there is no such thing as a true goodness that is selfless and wholly altruistic. There is no such thing as Love in the very sense of the word that so many believe it to be - it is only an illusion. Every person is essentially self-centered. Yet, one desires to be deluded, to forsake reason and seek that which one does not believe to exist. One esteems that which one scorns and denounces. And when one cannot find what one searches for, one conjures it.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

5:07 PM
0 comments

~

The Argument of the Sperm

Assertion: Each person is a survivor and the fittest of millions of sperms. Therefore everyone is strong.

Refutation: Being the strongest of the weak doesn't mean one is strong.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:40 PM
0 comments

~

Hatred and Hostility are easily justified, unlike Friendship.

The haphazard manner in which a process is initiated casts doubt upon the significance of its being.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

6:54 PM
0 comments

~

It takes two hands to clap.

Everyone has two hands. If you're going to use only one hand when you have two, and trouble yourself finding someone else who does the same, that's your choice. I can easily clap my two hands.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

6:01 PM
0 comments

~

Success

The fact that people place much emphasis on "success in life" when they do not even know what that term means is rather amusing. They think "success in life" is important but they don't know what exactly it means. They ask if "success in life" would bring happiness but never doubt if such a thing even exists. Well, they wouldn't need to be so frustrated with this elusive"success in life" if they would just take a moment to examine that ridiculous term itself.

Success is not a state of being, success is an event. When an archer fires an arrow at a target and his goal is to hit bull's eye, and he does hit it, then we say his attempt is successful. The event of success occurs. There is a goal which defines success and the alternate failure, there is the attempt at the goal, and there is the outcome which is either success or failure based on whether the attempt fulfills the goal.

Now if we try to, with this understanding of success, interpret the term "success in life", we realise how absurd it really is. How do we define the ultimate goal of life? Then what is one to do if he fails or succeeds? Is it of any significance? Is one to despair in the event of failure or feel an intense sense of self satisfaction in the event of success? Is not the rest of his life after the moment he achieves "success in life" part of his life too? What if he messes up the rest of his life? Would he still be considered to be successful in life? Or do we wait until a person is dead and then we judge his life as a whole and label his life as a success or failure? By then would it even matter to the dead anymore? Outright ridiculous.

Furthermore, this entire concept of "success in life" is based on the assumption that there is some ultimate purpose in life such that the fulfillment of it would be success. But whether there is such a "mission" in life is impossible to know. Acknowledging that there is such an ultimate purpose in life that one cannot determine on his own only robs the individual of his power of choice, causing him to be forever fated to seek to fulfill his purpose only because it is his purpose.

Why do people seek to define some sort of "success in life" for them to work towards? Because they think that achieving success will make them happy. But that is only an illusion. The frustration of continually reaching for that "success" at the expense of the finer things in life and the final emptiness or despair upon attaining or failing to attain that "success" - these far from describe happiness. Do not be deluded by images of smiling athletes, businessmen, politicians or even altruistic individuals. If happiness were merely the ability to smile, then that is not a happiness to seek.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:55 PM
0 comments

~

God. You're always there. I cannot live my life without a constant reminder of your existence. That is precisely the problem.

When I say God, I do not refer to some omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent being. I refer to the collective notion of God that exists in the minds of a large proportion of the world's population, and the concept that is protrayed by the holy book, clergymen and believers. God to me is an idea, God is not a being. God only exists because of faith. Sheer faith sustains the existence of God. Every single believer's notion of it, and every single text that can bring forth within one that idea of it; the sum of it all is God.

God transforms people. Into what? God transforms Man to be more like God. And what is God? Holy, pure, perfect, and well, Love. But is this form of Love really a good thing at all? What a queer form of Love. To live is to be more like God. God is Love. Therefore to Love is to be like God, and one should Love. And how does one Love? By helping others too to become like God. But what if others don't want to be like God? God in its purest essence transmogrifies one, robbing him of his personality and life. God invades every single aspect of one's life, casting unrelenting scorching light on every nook and cranny, jarring judgement and discarding discernment. And the end product is one that is no longer human anymore.

Each and every one - only one life to live. A pity to spend it trying to be God.

Is it because the weak need faith? Or the weak are weak because they have faith?

I thought perhaps there was some good in God. Perhaps I'm wrong. Or maybe Man is so hopeless he always sustains that which ultimately divides and conquers himself.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:36 PM
0 comments

~

Man is an intelligent being? Bullshit.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:33 PM
0 comments

~

the beats they thump
subdivided they flutter
harmonised dissonance
cries of the multitude
driving blood crazy
electrified set in motion

What is it like to stand at the center of attention of a large mass of people? What is it like to hear them screaming your name repeatedly? What is it like to lift your arms into the air and receive a thunderous cheer in response?

rows of cheap novels make me sick
sometimes you just get tired of sieving through shallow fiction

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:22 PM
0 comments

~

Who I thought one to be is actually two. All along I thought the two of them were the same person, they were so alike. But now it makes so much more sense, how could I have mistaken? One is four years younger than me, the other is two years older than me. The younger was always nice to me. The older was mean. No, they were two different persons all along. Somewhere back in time, I did not realise, one added upon one but I took two for one.

She speaks incessantly. Why has she got to interfere with my affairs? She doesn't stop. I am trying to stop her but speech does not come to me. I know exactly what I want to say, but I can't! I will the words desperately. Why am I not able to control myself? What's going on? I want to scream for help. And the built up pressure suddenly stuns me with the vocalisation of an awkward shout for help.

I know this is what the fuck, but one night I was dreaming about the inverse square law. When I woke up I was confounded by that ridiculous notion but I had an absolute certainty I was dreaming about it. I have no idea what it is like dreaming about the inverse square law, but I know I did.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

10:00 PM
0 comments

~

being a being
witness of humankind
streaks of negative illumination
emanate from them
invokes the scorn within
venom courses through the veins
it is a curse for a man to hate Man

up in the clouds the gods laugh verily
playing their little game their daily sport
injecting consciousness into mounds of dust
making important the trivial
they stretch nothingness into extremes of good and bad
they divide the unmoving sending the parts in opposite directions
perhaps they never get bored
as day by day the continuance of their little game
grows ever more absurd
and they just keep laughing

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:55 PM
0 comments

~

"It all depends on what you mean by the word 'is'".
Ridiculous? Perhaps not.

two plus two is four.
Is four two plus two? Yes.

a boy is a child.
Is a child a boy? Maybe.

george is hungry.
Is hungry george? No.

-

Is identity bounded to material? One points at a poster of Michael Jackson and says "that is Michael Jackson". But obviously that poster, that sheet of material portraying shades and shapes, is not Michael Jackson. Yet we say that statement is true. Why? Because when one points at the poster of Michael Jackson, he is referring to the concept of "Michael Jackson" which the poster represents to a relatively large degree, in this case his appearance. But if one were to think of "Michael Jackson" as not his outward image but solely his music then one could not point to a poster of Michael Jackson and say the same statement truthfully. This leads one to realise that the concept of "Michael Jackson" is different to different people. Different people use the same name for different concepts. When two people with different concepts of "Michael Jackson" engage in a debate on whether "Michael Jackson sucks" they are each referring to a different concept and could never come to a common understanding.

But if the identity "Michael Jackson" were bounded to the material, the very person himself, there would be a problem. If one were to dig up Michael Jackson's dead body, (just to say, who knows he may have been cremated I don't care) point at it and say "that is Michael Jackson", it would be pretty ridiculous wouldn't it? One could point at any other dead body and say the same thing and it wouldn't matter, because it really is just pointing at a dead body. What is a dead body? It holds no significance. After years of rot and decay the body exists no more. Then one points at dust and says "that is Michael Jackson".

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

11:22 PM
0 comments

~

for once there be a flicker of light,
in the obstinate void of eternity;
affected be manifest,
soul abstruse.

-

Everytime I think
I've got my life straightened out
I'm once again
shocked by my ignorance

Life is full of surprises.
It never ceases to disappoint me.
To live like this
What A Comedy

Am I immature,
Or Are They?
Who's the real fool?

What's the point of being intelligent anyway?

Is the Human really a social creature that could live not alone?

I guess I can't trust anyone.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

6:13 PM
0 comments

~

Nice isn't too nice a word. What exactly does nice mean? Nice is so general it could imply so many different meanings. So why is the word nice even used? Is it because of a lack of vocabulary? Or perhaps, the word nice, for its generally general generality, is irreplaceable. Maybe nice is used with the intent of ambiguity so as to hide actual opinion behind a layer of fog. What if nice is a word that doesn't mean anything? Maybe all the meaning there is to the word nice is embodied within the tone of the speaker and his present emotion. Just like fuck. A word as a medium to channel emotion without stating anything. Like a groan, a moan, a whimper, a laugh, a gasp. Or maybe it's just nice.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:11 PM
0 comments

~

A magnifying glass, a seeing glass, a pair of glasses.

-

Based on the premise that each and every one would not believe the words of another, it is decided that secrets can be safely shared without revealing anything.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:47 PM
0 comments

~

No longer an idealistic state. Foresight and pragmatism have liberated like democracy emancipating the individual. Once blinded by the future, now knowledge of the process frees the soul. The seductive, addictive orthodox has been cast away. Life is no longer a dream. Dreams have become alive.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

9:49 PM
0 comments

~

Boys should not be expected to be as gentlemen. They are boys, after all, and not men. And why should any man affect this absurd form of behaviour anyway? Does it not further reaffirm the natural inequality between males and females? That the male, being superior, should humble himself, and the female accept inferiority by recognising that she should be treated "gently" as in the sense of the word gentleman? What condescending behaviour by the gentleman!

-

Turning and flipping,
in abrupt movements,
as though seriously disturbed,
as though greatly anxious.
The mind wandered,
like a hummingbird,
hovering and lingering,
then quickly flirting elsewhere.
A single thought,
could trigger a reaction.
A single source,
of exponential growth of emotion.
A flux of thoughts flows,
strange sensations overflow.
They originated somewhere within,
not the heart to the left of the chest,
not the heart that beats so readily.
It was somewhere in the center of the whole.
It was not located in space,
but positioned in the soul.
It was not within the body,
yet it was part of the body.
When these sensations arise,
one realises though he's been alive
for many a year since birth,
he's never been, more alive.

How could it be?
While lying and turning,
while thinking and feeling,
in greater depth but disorderly,
one could want to arise and write immediately?
Would it be a pity
if one failed to record his experiences,
to lose them as they fade in memory,
and never relish the moments again?
Or more pathetic
if one desperately notes down
as soon as he experiences,
and ceases to live in the moment?

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:50 AM
0 comments

~

Altruism and Morality of the Individual

Why should one do good for others? Why should one aid others in a sacrificial manner? Why should one live a life of service to others? Viewing it in a larger picture, it makes sense that humans should tend to, in mutual cooperation or aid, strengthen each other. Within them should exist an altruistic humane nature. A man cannot survive on his own. It is a healthy and prospering society that blesses the individual. So each and every person should do his or her own part in ensuring the prosperity of the society to which they belong, each doing their part in contribution to the community. And in return, they enjoy the combined fruits of success.

But why should one, under such circumstances, not be tempted to be a parasite? Why shouldn't one seek to have the luxury of not needing to put in any effort but to leech off the rewards of the prospering society due to the hard work of many others? If that were possible, it would not be unbelievable that the indivdual would choose such a lifestyle. Alas, it is money that keeps the individual in check. It accounts for the contribution by the individual. The individual has to participate in the building of society in order to reap the rewards. Here we have the principle of reciprocity. All effort is centered on returns. And returns are measured in units of money. Now why should one put in effort for society? Because it gives returns in the form of money. And why is money desirable? Because it is the ultimate substitute that can instantly transform into any desired material good. Here we have materialism driving the growth of society. Attaining wants is good. Wants are attained with money. Money is a return of contribution to society. Thus contributing to society ultimately is good for the individual. Here we have materialism defining the morals of the individual. Here the individual no longer does his part altruistically (unless he deceives himself). Here the individual does everything for himself.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:03 PM
0 comments

~

Is it that one sometimes tends to yearn for that which he denounces,
or is it that one tends to denounce that which he yearns for but cannot obtain?

It is completely natural for the stronger to take delight in inequality
and completely forgivable for the weaker to detest it.

Is it that any opposition to a logically flawless assertion is automatically wrong,
or is it that there is no universal code to right and wrong?

Is one privileged to chance upon the greatest experiences in life,
or does one undergo those experiences only because he innately seeks them?

-

like in a sky of dazzling stars
like in a sea of sparkling crystals
they shimmer they shine
they gleam they blind
here and there wherever whenever
the light catches my eye
so very bright
how very nice
could be right
surely would
but no be damned
they turn they dance
the flashes ever fleeting
a few steps forward
and never again be them seen
though all around they
never cease to be
but lost among them
that should not be

-

How could it be?
Maybe I want it to be.
Of all times, why now?
But any better, would there be?
Of all people, why you?
But then, perhaps, maybe.
Probably, probably, surely!
Is that what I think I see?
Is that what you feel for me?
I closed my eyes and soon there you'd be,
I opened my eyes feeling a little funny.
At myself, I laugh ridiculously.
Damned embarassed, I ought to be.
So come and be
close to me,
fuel my lust
and make me blush.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:27 PM
0 comments

~

Intelligence in Life

If you have nothing to show, who cares if you're "smart" or "intelligent"? Who gives a damn when there is no basis for argument? Intelligence cannot be quantified effectively. What is intelligence if it's not put into action and doesn't produce results? It is a humorous thing, trying to distinguish the intelligent from the unintelligent. How do you judge? Capacity of thought? Abstract obscurity? Apt practicality? Is being unintelligent weakness? Intelligence has no meaning without an outcome! What is thought but some workings in the mind that can never be isolated and examined, much less comprehended? Intelligence cannot be separated from the being and scrutinised. Intelligence is in relation to the being. Every individual is different and intellect acts in different degrees, in different manners. An intelligible thought to one is trash to another. Is it really necessary for the mind to have the ability to view things in complicated or abstract relations to one another? Perhaps instinct and intuition are sufficient. Is there any point in attempting to prove greater intelligence than another? Does this vague notion of a "higher" mind warrant superiority over others? Capacity for thought is useless if one does not fill that capacity with useful thoughts. What use is there in thinking abstract mathematical relations without relation to life itself? It is as useless as playing chess. Does playing chess help one to lead a better life? Does it allow one more awareness and control of his circumstances? Does it cultivate prudence in making decisions? Foolish intelligent people end up in asylums, sleeping in the streets, unemployed, mainly anywhere where they are labelled as losers of society. And they regret or lament, blaming the world for condemning them, for not recognising them as the gems of society, not recognising their brilliance. But all along they never utilise their god-damned intellect in life. In fact, they are the most stupid of all.

What is true intelligence? It is seeing things in relation to oneself. Any knowledge that cannot be acted upon is worthless.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

10:29 PM
0 comments

~

Perfection

We tend to think of perfection as an absolute, something that is not just the best, but all-surpassing and complete. Does that perfection exist? Is it perhaps true that perfection can only be worked towards but never obtained? But that which we suppose to be perfection is merely a concept that we create with one's own idea of good and bad. All "good" qualities and no "bad" qualities - that is our definition of perfect. But what is good and bad but merely tinted shades through our myopic human vision? All things, in the light of eternity, are neutral. There is no good or bad. One argues gravity is bad because it tires us out, while another argues gravity is good because it gives us stability, but what is gravity but some inexplicable phenomenon that just is the way it is? Mechanically, the universe is ever perfect the way it is. It is only through the bias of our human eyes that we see shades of imbalances and the unfavourable that we naturally label with "good and bad". But then again, this discriminatory function of ours is not superfluous. We have ideas of "good and bad" only because it is useful to us. It allows us to live. It is the core of decision making. We cannot see things in the light of eternity. We must see through our human eyes - because we are human.

The notion of a flawless ultimate "good" that we call perfection easily fires idealistic youthful passion, but more often than not, it leaves people resigned, unhappy and disappointed. There is a limit to human endurance and tolerance. It may be bendable but it will snap at some point. This childish fantasy that fuels false hope could do little good to the mortal soul. What we need is something within the constraints of human mortality. Now to create a perfection that is useful and not an idealistic fantasy, we have to be pragmatic. The pragmatic perfection is a process, not an end or achievable state. Perfection is not free of fault, it is a continuous striving that does not fret on mistakes but counters them with adaptation and resilience. Perfection is a flux of action. Practice does not make perfect. Practice is perfection itself.

-

Impossible is Nothing

Indeed! Impossible is the unachievable, the unknowable, the unthinkable, the unbelievable, the undoable; it cannot exist - impossible really is nothing.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:37 PM
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~

The passive stance. Seated upright. Shoulders set comfortably apart. Chin tilted slightly upwards. Faced dead straight. Placid. A twinkle in the eyes. The night was dreary. He gazed at his reflection in the glass window. Is that really me? Who am I? Who is this queerly familiar image? He thought of life. The future was bright. There was so much to look forward to. A mystery to uncover, a story to unfold, a journey to undertake, an adventure to experience. He had plans. He would never lose control of his life ever. He would equip, enrich and improve himself. He would foresee, prepare and proceed. It would be all too easy. He would have everything under control. He would no longer care to play. Life is the greatest game, and he would not be a loser. Then he thought of death. Thirty six years old, they say. Before that life's an uphill track. Tedious yet filled with excitement. There was only forward and upwards to look to. The heights shimmer like gaseous gemstones. There would always be a tomorrow. Aging was maturity, aging was growth, aging was a symbol of strength. Alas, when they reach the top, realisation of the very end dawns upon the fluttering soul. A downward descent the rest of the way, every tomorrow a step further from the joys of youth, a foot further from the shimmering mountain top, an irreversible move away from the peak, the climax of life. The descent would be near effortless, gravity acting graciously as ever. Yet the unready soul would dread the passing of time. Aging would be redundance, aging would be decay, aging would be the symbol of weak mortality. Looking forward at the very end there would be naught. A void. A vacuum. The cessation of time, the disappearance of space, the inaction of action, the dissipation of memories. But surely that is not all? He scrutinised that image before him. But he was not looking at his appearance, that was unimportant. He was trying to uncover the identity of his image. The matter constituting the mass. The unseen force behind the movement. The essence of reality. Could death be transcended? Am I not a reflection of my ancestors? Figments of their personality combined and refined to finer melody in I? Perhaps they are alive in me. Perhaps they are I, and I they. Their blood runs through my veins. I am of their flesh. Their strength is my strength, my flaws are their flaws. Here I am, alive, and thus they too are alive in I. Perhaps it was always their greatest wish that someday they would come alive again. Perhaps they have finally succeeded, today. Then and there, he had that surest certainty, that swept away all previous doubts, that he would one day have a wife and children. Then and there, for once in his life, he felt that perhaps he was no longer a boy. He had become normal in an abnormal way.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:12 PM
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~

a quick dab
the quilt scratches roughly
white the paper remains
alas it is dry.

a passive gaze
the clouds loom clumsily
hidden the stars became
where lies the shimmer?

where?
there.
where?
there!
somewhere out there where there is there is where where shall be there

the lights shine brightly in the distance
the greener pastures across to the other side
away from this pathetic dim
away from this sparse turf of weeds
onward in a trance in a spell
onward into the open arms of devil's deception

ideas are an illusion
life is an enchantment
the past is not the future
but the future is the past

the cat purrs
the dog barks
the lady screams
i am an earthworm

alas is a humorously suitable substitute for fuck

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:28 PM
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~

The Age of Pragmatism. Thought is not an end in itself, thought is a means. The human capacity of thought is limited, and time shows neither favour nor mercy. Efficiency beats Idealism. There is no worth in everyone understanding. Formulae and norms dictate popular action, translating into efficiency. A general direction is created to synchronise the otherwise disordered masses. Rules and laws are to be accepted first and foremost. They do not need to pertain to truth so long as they achieve results. There is no worth in examining intent, results speak the loudest and too receive the most attention. Examples that produce favourable results are reasonable to follow - results define virtue. It is the age of statistics, of numbers, of materialism of both sorts. The individual is unimportant; the greater good is the overall improvement and advancement of the whole, as measured in numbers and statistics. The state does not act in the interest of the individual, it acts in the interest of the whole of individuals. Only by aligning individual interest to popular interest can one's interests be met. There is no worth in attributing various values to a single item to the demand and appreciation that varies from person to person; a mean value is calculated and accepted very well so. Value must be objective, not subjective. Society provides for the individual so long as the individual does a part in contribution, again measured in numbers. The part of the individual is to add value to the whole. Society is a machine. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:46 PM
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~

within lies mystical mystery
muddled fuzzy chaos in disorder
flashes the occasional flicker of
glaring clarity with which the hand trembles
revelation of which enlightens none
the truth of one appeals not to the temperament of
men who read off the surface
alas all they see is their reflection
clarity ought returned obscure
carefully fabricated and embellished
what little there is to offer for the willing eye
a song undeciphered yet unlocked

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:43 PM
0 comments

~

as i hold on to the pen
dread fills me
there is everything to write
but nothing i can write
the highest hope
comes with the greatest fear
the words that flowed smoothly before
become a chore to summon
to write was to make into becoming what was
to write is to do injustice to what is
it is the torment of the avid reader and the willing writer
the man of letters can read or write no more
cold reality drags him away from the shade of contemplation
beneath the numbing glare of action and reaction
now his intellect has no place in the world
all there is is hammer and sickle
time apathetically moves on

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

11:52 PM
0 comments

~

Fuck

Do you really think you know the meaning of fuck?
Fuck does not mean sexual intercourse.
Fuck has nothing to do with penetration, screwing, banging of any kind.
So what then, is the meaning of fuck?
Do you remember that very first time,
when you got so damned angry, so damned pissed,
that you somehow uttered that sacred word fuck?
Whatever that you were trying to convey with that single word -
now that's the meaning of fuck.

Oh I'm sorry if this is too vulgar for you,
but hey, you know what?
The world is vulgar with all their petty desires and lust and grievances.
And somehow fuck seems so uncouth to them.
But to hell with them!
In my moral code, fuck is not the least bit impure.
I avoid it when I wish to appease them.
But you know, sometimes it's amusing to see their distorted faces,
and desperate checks of their moral conscience whence I not know.
I'd love to see you fucking your brains out in search of adjectives,
when such a simple fuck would do.

Fuck

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

7:46 PM
0 comments

~

a clever assumption
a true love's kiss
song of reconcilliation
all I need to live in bliss
I laugh at theological God
I laugh at pantheistic God
Life; a comical tragedy

Strength and Pride
Will and Cunning

someday we'll all look back and laugh at ourselves;
but today it doesn't matter at all

8:15 PM
0 comments

~