Descent-silently loud
The built up asphyxiation resounds death, reinforced by the popping eardrums while he descends. The waters murky, undercurrent strong, swirling him down in acrobatic motions choreographed by the force of nature- like a ballet dancing cat trained by the Russian Vaganova Academy experimenting with the torque of nature. As lightening as the notes of Chopin, his body gracefully cleaves through the voids of uncountable streams of current, at times leafs harmonically about the moment from omnipresent actions and reactions from his dance which spirals downward.
Except that he is a drowning cat. In this case, it is one creaking and clawing aimlessly with its back arched and hair erected like a tight-balling porcupine. Feeling intensely apprehensive like a circus cat trying to perform the balancing act on a tight rope slowly eaten by fire, he screeches to vent out the exploding pressure. No! I will survive! Clenching his fists, he bites his own teeth with every strand of force that he could muster, as if there is a lock in between his jaws which stands in the way to ignite his mitochondria. He needs energy to fight. True that. He feels like a ball of fire right after he is rejoiced with life in his mouth, in the form of warm bitter-salty liquid. A supercat dressed in fire is ready to fight against fire- one that is eating up the rope tantamount to its lifeline. He bawls, seemingly thunderously, admonishing his opponents of his determination.
Except that he is fighting nature. The murky waters remain plumbed with coldness, despite a small patch of warm body of liquid surrounding his mouth. His screams silenced. Admonition mocked. Determination ridiculed. No! I will survive! Yup we get it- a drowning cat purring to flirt with the waters, current, and death! Dogged determination is not for cats. In the eyes of the world, his forceful gestures, revved up by burning mitochondria and fuelled by his torrid spirit, are as soft as silk, and as obedient as slipping silk is to its master by the name of gravity. His body is ironically as elegant as jellyfish drifting in the ocean. A supercat in a ball of fire is only imaginary. It is still walking on a burning rope, with unbearable weight to balance, wearing a ridiculous makeup of a clown. Time is still not any kinder. He is still a ballet dancing cat entrapped in the torque of nature. Eardrums no longer transmit any vibrations, but only warmth. He has even lost his sense of vertigo- probably the only sense left in the heart of a body of waters. This has got to be the end- of sense, sentiment and significance! His last thought barely escapes the eventual obedience to the current, waters and death.
Except that it is warmer than he thought. In the depth of overwhelming nature where all sense, sentiment and significance are crowded out, he feels a stint of familiarity, and warmth. This familiarity predates any senses, sentiments and significance of his being. In the abyss of the murky waters, he feels warmth, light and clarity.
Saturday, November 03, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Recent Fall of the Titans:
Vaclav Havel (1936-2011) : Truth and love must prevail over lies and hate.
Kim Jong Il (1941-2011): The people are my god.
The perception of how close they stick to their motto is as polarized as their background, belief, as well as political and social participation.
While there is hardly any surprise about this, may they RIP. It's a natural right everyone should enjoy, regardless of how much he has defended or violated others.
Vaclav Havel (1936-2011) : Truth and love must prevail over lies and hate.
Kim Jong Il (1941-2011): The people are my god.
The perception of how close they stick to their motto is as polarized as their background, belief, as well as political and social participation.
While there is hardly any surprise about this, may they RIP. It's a natural right everyone should enjoy, regardless of how much he has defended or violated others.
Friday, December 16, 2011
I, Too, Sing America
by Langston Hughes
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.Besides,They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--I, too, am America.
by Langston Hughes
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.Besides,They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--I, too, am America.
Saturday’s Child
By Countee Cullen
Some are teethed on a silver spoon,
With the stars strung for a rattle;
I cut my teeth as the black raccoon—
For implements of battle.
Some are swaddled in silk and down,
And heralded by a star;
They swathed my limbs in a sackcloth gown
On a night that was black as tar.
For some, godfather and goddame
The opulent fairies be;
Dame Poverty gave me my name,
And Pain godfathered me.
For I was born on Saturday—
“Bad time for planting a seed,”
Was all my father had to say,
And, “One mouth more to feed.”
Death cut the strings that gave me life,
And handed me to Sorrow,
The only kind of middle wife
My folks could beg or borrow.
By Countee Cullen
Some are teethed on a silver spoon,
With the stars strung for a rattle;
I cut my teeth as the black raccoon—
For implements of battle.
Some are swaddled in silk and down,
And heralded by a star;
They swathed my limbs in a sackcloth gown
On a night that was black as tar.
For some, godfather and goddame
The opulent fairies be;
Dame Poverty gave me my name,
And Pain godfathered me.
For I was born on Saturday—
“Bad time for planting a seed,”
Was all my father had to say,
And, “One mouth more to feed.”
Death cut the strings that gave me life,
And handed me to Sorrow,
The only kind of middle wife
My folks could beg or borrow.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Less passionate the long war throws
its burning thorn about all men,
caught in one grief, we share one wound,
and cry one dialect of pain.
We have forgot who fired the house
Whose easy mischief spilled first blood
Under one raging roof we lie
The fault no longer understood
But as our twisted arms embrace the desert where our cities stood
Death’s family likeness in each face must show at last our brotherhood.
~ The Long War by Laurie Lee
its burning thorn about all men,
caught in one grief, we share one wound,
and cry one dialect of pain.
We have forgot who fired the house
Whose easy mischief spilled first blood
Under one raging roof we lie
The fault no longer understood
But as our twisted arms embrace the desert where our cities stood
Death’s family likeness in each face must show at last our brotherhood.
~ The Long War by Laurie Lee
Monday, June 01, 2009
Guilt
Attacks at night, like a thirsty vampire bringing/exuberating absolute darkness engulfing all life forms with warmth sipping a glass of blood mixed Lafitte, with absolute elegance.
His fingers dance along with Schubert orchestrating forces in the dark siphon out life from its prey in absolute order.
The rhythm dictated by Schubert-Sight, sound, sense, and last selfness. The composition proceeds forcefully but at a patient rhythm.
He sips as his finger taps the crystal glass shining cold with a tempo gorgeously coherent with Schubert, even though thirst is setting a blasphemous sunrise in the passage connecting his temple, throat and chest.
He is slowly losing his sight, sense and selfness too, but with absolute clarity mounted on absolute empowerment.
The prey’s soul cries a thousand languages of pain, with absolute vigor but is wholly swallowed by absolute silence.
However, the prey’s face wreaks a beautiful smile following his smirk.
His temple bursts in pain strangled by the final resistance of the prey’s soul.
The climatic notes are hit by his temples explosion and the mute implosion of his prey’s soul.
In this moment of time, both are mesmerized by the absolute lyrical match of the powerful predator and the powerless prey.
Guilt is the vampire and the prey.
It is absolute.
Guilt
Is the daypack on a man’s back which hosts the kick to switch the master of the man’s body, in the form of a werewolf. It defines and is defined by absolute brutality that tears down the persona which in reality is showcased to the world with the information content that sculptures his character. This natural mask is the portal between the man’s inner and outer reality. But this mask, which holds the key to his soul, bears the weight of Titanic and ought to sink once greeted by the moonlight. The kiss of the moon transforms the mask, the portal, the key into a state of absolute rupture. The volcanic explosion, not captured by any conventional definition of aestheticism, swirls the man into a whirlwind of hellfire that only commands absolute evaporation of the mask, the portal and the key, both in its physical and spiritual sense. Absolute meltdown it is. The content in the daypack, thrives at melting point in which the sudden outburst of heat is transformed partially into a thunderous roar that aims to tear down anything else within the perimeter of its reach. At that point of evaporation, the mask, the portal and the key evaporate and transform into a part of the latent heat energy to drive this madness to a higher level. The man, now a beast, is but a form of being highly reactive, instable and absolutely liberated, trying to liberate everything else in the form of evaporation. The ultimate meltdown.
This form of liberation knows no bound until all the energy is spent to its natural course.
Guilt is the man’s taking on the bag, not wanting to leave it.
It is voluntary action to a sequence of involuntary pain in a world of madness.
Attacks at night, like a thirsty vampire bringing/exuberating absolute darkness engulfing all life forms with warmth sipping a glass of blood mixed Lafitte, with absolute elegance.
His fingers dance along with Schubert orchestrating forces in the dark siphon out life from its prey in absolute order.
The rhythm dictated by Schubert-Sight, sound, sense, and last selfness. The composition proceeds forcefully but at a patient rhythm.
He sips as his finger taps the crystal glass shining cold with a tempo gorgeously coherent with Schubert, even though thirst is setting a blasphemous sunrise in the passage connecting his temple, throat and chest.
He is slowly losing his sight, sense and selfness too, but with absolute clarity mounted on absolute empowerment.
The prey’s soul cries a thousand languages of pain, with absolute vigor but is wholly swallowed by absolute silence.
However, the prey’s face wreaks a beautiful smile following his smirk.
His temple bursts in pain strangled by the final resistance of the prey’s soul.
The climatic notes are hit by his temples explosion and the mute implosion of his prey’s soul.
In this moment of time, both are mesmerized by the absolute lyrical match of the powerful predator and the powerless prey.
Guilt is the vampire and the prey.
It is absolute.
Guilt
Is the daypack on a man’s back which hosts the kick to switch the master of the man’s body, in the form of a werewolf. It defines and is defined by absolute brutality that tears down the persona which in reality is showcased to the world with the information content that sculptures his character. This natural mask is the portal between the man’s inner and outer reality. But this mask, which holds the key to his soul, bears the weight of Titanic and ought to sink once greeted by the moonlight. The kiss of the moon transforms the mask, the portal, the key into a state of absolute rupture. The volcanic explosion, not captured by any conventional definition of aestheticism, swirls the man into a whirlwind of hellfire that only commands absolute evaporation of the mask, the portal and the key, both in its physical and spiritual sense. Absolute meltdown it is. The content in the daypack, thrives at melting point in which the sudden outburst of heat is transformed partially into a thunderous roar that aims to tear down anything else within the perimeter of its reach. At that point of evaporation, the mask, the portal and the key evaporate and transform into a part of the latent heat energy to drive this madness to a higher level. The man, now a beast, is but a form of being highly reactive, instable and absolutely liberated, trying to liberate everything else in the form of evaporation. The ultimate meltdown.
This form of liberation knows no bound until all the energy is spent to its natural course.
Guilt is the man’s taking on the bag, not wanting to leave it.
It is voluntary action to a sequence of involuntary pain in a world of madness.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Actually doing it
I guess the level of intelligence of a person is quite apparent when he gets himself sicker soaking in his wet shirt after sports under the fan on a raining day for a couple of hours, especially more so when the purpose of the physical training is in order to unblock his respiratory passage.
However, this funny dude would have done the same if given another chance. He would have still gone to pay his aunt a visit. It’s something beyond spending some time with his nephew Daniel, and his niece, Shasha. There’s talk about dinasours, listening to different Barbie characters, encyclopedia, animals and some lil clowning :P etc. (Don’t mind the sudden change from a 3rd party narration :P)I have gotta give it to them man. They really know so much more than when I was at their age. N I think Shasha told me something was spooky (no it wasn’t me). Damn, I dun think I knew wat a spoon was in English at her age :P
Anyway, I had dinner there. It’s pretty a hearty one. There’s a lot of nostalgia around the house. I can safely say that I spent most of my early years thr. My aunt’s cooking to me is like mama cooking to most ppl. I really felt touched when I started to mouth the food. Then thr’s this surge of thoughts again that I should be able to repay her grace upon me at my age had I not derailed. I hope she’s gonna be around for sometime till I’m able to at least reciprocate. I still have very vivid memory of her taking me to the clinic with me clinging on her back (while she walked through the sun and rain), or sometimes w her bicycle; going to the wet market after some 30 minutes walk on Sunday; and uncountable occasion of me sick n puking n she taking care of me along w my cousins; or bathing me till I was like 5-6 years old; beating me n threatened that she’s gonna chase me outta the house(and I actually took my clothes n walked out at the age of 5 :P ); going to the neighbor’s house and showed me to the ah-sohs around; bringing me to her workplace, again on the bicycle (at my early age, sometimes some place I could not identify but she was washing clothes-she’s a widow living through turbulent times raising 3 kids alone, and all three turned out really proper); secretly stuffing money into my hand throughout my adolescence (n still does it sometimes like during my bday, actually that kinda hurts wateva it does tho I feel real blessed at the same time); buyin me lotsa shirts back then when she worked in the factory, and the list would go on as it is intricate, leaving its traces all ard my memory however it takes its form.
I have been an ignorant recipient all this while. Apart from stuff that I bought her from places that I traveled to; and some oilment I bought from pasar malam that I hav yet to hand to her to date, I can’t really recall what I hav really done as a token of appreciation. Of cuz, one way to repay her is to be proper and make her proud, but then, thr’s much more that I could hav done and can do but did/do not.
Thr’s some trade off if ur like the black hole in which lotsa attention and care are poured into u by many many great ppl around, it also proportionally strengthens the fact/feeling of indebtedness to these ppl. It kinda ticks u off a bit when ur not really thr yet to reciprocate that even at the most basic levels.
But that apart, i’m also pretty content with the going of my current life. Contrasting to the previous post where I talked about the difference of knowing and doing, I’m now actually doing a lot of things. And it’s beyond physically partaking in some physical work, as in doing things literally. I like my new vibe of absolute zen. Well not exactly new, but I have come 2 realize that my core is really back, and probably strengthened in some way or another. It makes me feel steady that with this feeling of being anchored I can take on more. If there is any expansionary or additional undertaking, I would be much more content to do it w my current Zen vibe :P I also come 2 realize that I can look at brighter sides of the slow going and the bumps I hit here and thr and hence sincerely enjoyin those luxuries now while I still chance them, for instance spending more time w my sis and at home, more time for myself, do a bit more reflection, and etc. I guess when life’s a bit slow, thr’s no harm tryin to maximize its utility and value and accept that wholeheartedly. It’s only a stage of being. Life’s clearer and simpler if u see through the forms and look at it at the essence, then u tend to realize the things that r of utmost importance are often things that many find intangible and immaterial. If zen comes from within, external factors cant easily mess it up despite the seemingly pressing circumstances, not to say reaching and messing ur core. Btw, I find it pretty odd to read watz claimed to be wat I said on my fren’s (sakai heay’s) wall. Lol I can’t recall saying something like that :P I think I c lotsa future in me becoming a priest or a monk.
And finally, I do not noe how else 2 do it. Neither do I noe how many times do I have to repeat this: I x hate u, thr’s nothing 2 be sorry about. So I would be relieved and glad if u also can set u free from a sense of guilt. Then it will add more ‘positivity’ into my zen-ness :P I din manage to tell u tat I was glad 2 c u here. It makes me realize that the growing peace in me is not artificial, and not some illusionary bubbles that I was deceiving myself with. And again thr’s not a moment that I hated u whenever I was w u in the tourney. Thr’s only peace. Unspeakable peace- one that even surprised me. Like thr was no humanly emotional content in it. So I guess it’s a pretty good sign that I really m alrite. So neither do u need 2 worry bout me nor should u keep entrapping urself in some lump.
Now that my being is founded, a peaceful soul empowered is seeking for the higher value named la passione~ lol. Thr r some interesting proposals, let’s c how many will materialize from bubbly words and flying ideas :P
It’s no longer plain knowing, but I am doing that. Exactly wat I envisioned.
Slowly but surely.
I am peace.
This is ho, adam ho lol
Cheerio.
260508
I guess the level of intelligence of a person is quite apparent when he gets himself sicker soaking in his wet shirt after sports under the fan on a raining day for a couple of hours, especially more so when the purpose of the physical training is in order to unblock his respiratory passage.
However, this funny dude would have done the same if given another chance. He would have still gone to pay his aunt a visit. It’s something beyond spending some time with his nephew Daniel, and his niece, Shasha. There’s talk about dinasours, listening to different Barbie characters, encyclopedia, animals and some lil clowning :P etc. (Don’t mind the sudden change from a 3rd party narration :P)I have gotta give it to them man. They really know so much more than when I was at their age. N I think Shasha told me something was spooky (no it wasn’t me). Damn, I dun think I knew wat a spoon was in English at her age :P
Anyway, I had dinner there. It’s pretty a hearty one. There’s a lot of nostalgia around the house. I can safely say that I spent most of my early years thr. My aunt’s cooking to me is like mama cooking to most ppl. I really felt touched when I started to mouth the food. Then thr’s this surge of thoughts again that I should be able to repay her grace upon me at my age had I not derailed. I hope she’s gonna be around for sometime till I’m able to at least reciprocate. I still have very vivid memory of her taking me to the clinic with me clinging on her back (while she walked through the sun and rain), or sometimes w her bicycle; going to the wet market after some 30 minutes walk on Sunday; and uncountable occasion of me sick n puking n she taking care of me along w my cousins; or bathing me till I was like 5-6 years old; beating me n threatened that she’s gonna chase me outta the house(and I actually took my clothes n walked out at the age of 5 :P ); going to the neighbor’s house and showed me to the ah-sohs around; bringing me to her workplace, again on the bicycle (at my early age, sometimes some place I could not identify but she was washing clothes-she’s a widow living through turbulent times raising 3 kids alone, and all three turned out really proper); secretly stuffing money into my hand throughout my adolescence (n still does it sometimes like during my bday, actually that kinda hurts wateva it does tho I feel real blessed at the same time); buyin me lotsa shirts back then when she worked in the factory, and the list would go on as it is intricate, leaving its traces all ard my memory however it takes its form.
I have been an ignorant recipient all this while. Apart from stuff that I bought her from places that I traveled to; and some oilment I bought from pasar malam that I hav yet to hand to her to date, I can’t really recall what I hav really done as a token of appreciation. Of cuz, one way to repay her is to be proper and make her proud, but then, thr’s much more that I could hav done and can do but did/do not.
Thr’s some trade off if ur like the black hole in which lotsa attention and care are poured into u by many many great ppl around, it also proportionally strengthens the fact/feeling of indebtedness to these ppl. It kinda ticks u off a bit when ur not really thr yet to reciprocate that even at the most basic levels.
But that apart, i’m also pretty content with the going of my current life. Contrasting to the previous post where I talked about the difference of knowing and doing, I’m now actually doing a lot of things. And it’s beyond physically partaking in some physical work, as in doing things literally. I like my new vibe of absolute zen. Well not exactly new, but I have come 2 realize that my core is really back, and probably strengthened in some way or another. It makes me feel steady that with this feeling of being anchored I can take on more. If there is any expansionary or additional undertaking, I would be much more content to do it w my current Zen vibe :P I also come 2 realize that I can look at brighter sides of the slow going and the bumps I hit here and thr and hence sincerely enjoyin those luxuries now while I still chance them, for instance spending more time w my sis and at home, more time for myself, do a bit more reflection, and etc. I guess when life’s a bit slow, thr’s no harm tryin to maximize its utility and value and accept that wholeheartedly. It’s only a stage of being. Life’s clearer and simpler if u see through the forms and look at it at the essence, then u tend to realize the things that r of utmost importance are often things that many find intangible and immaterial. If zen comes from within, external factors cant easily mess it up despite the seemingly pressing circumstances, not to say reaching and messing ur core. Btw, I find it pretty odd to read watz claimed to be wat I said on my fren’s (sakai heay’s) wall. Lol I can’t recall saying something like that :P I think I c lotsa future in me becoming a priest or a monk.
And finally, I do not noe how else 2 do it. Neither do I noe how many times do I have to repeat this: I x hate u, thr’s nothing 2 be sorry about. So I would be relieved and glad if u also can set u free from a sense of guilt. Then it will add more ‘positivity’ into my zen-ness :P I din manage to tell u tat I was glad 2 c u here. It makes me realize that the growing peace in me is not artificial, and not some illusionary bubbles that I was deceiving myself with. And again thr’s not a moment that I hated u whenever I was w u in the tourney. Thr’s only peace. Unspeakable peace- one that even surprised me. Like thr was no humanly emotional content in it. So I guess it’s a pretty good sign that I really m alrite. So neither do u need 2 worry bout me nor should u keep entrapping urself in some lump.
Now that my being is founded, a peaceful soul empowered is seeking for the higher value named la passione~ lol. Thr r some interesting proposals, let’s c how many will materialize from bubbly words and flying ideas :P
It’s no longer plain knowing, but I am doing that. Exactly wat I envisioned.
Slowly but surely.
I am peace.
This is ho, adam ho lol
Cheerio.
260508
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