Fears that follow

It has come to past. The page has finally turned and the end has been reached.

That which was to be a happy ending has all come to naught; this is another series in a collection of short stories.

A year mixed with sorrow, joy and pain has been closed.

Oh how the yearning for the tale that does not end, 'twas one that had beauty, life, the embodiment of what was love.

Now, faced with the chasm of darkness, into the abode of despair, would this be the path to take?

Standing in the garden with twists and turns, the light has once more retreated into the bushes.

When will it be coaxed out, spreading all with it's warmth? Can it once again be coaxed out, as Amaterasu once was? Or will it all fade, only to have an early Ragnarok?

Maybe it's time, time that the Norns, the Moiraie lift their hands from this.

The cross roads beckon.

Regression

Merriam Webster defines it as "a trend or shift toward a lower or less perfect state".

That is what I feel, has befallen the AJ community, to an extent of varying degrees, depending on where you stand. A society renown for its affluence, eloquent and refined, albeit being slightly campy when in groups.

At the club on Saturday, I was irked by some of the members of this community. The speech, mannerism and attitude displayed by most were a far cry from what used to be. Is this a cycle, or a downhill ride? I honestly hope its the former. And as such, my partner and I have both decided not to club anymore, at least not until after the period of Lent. For the first time, I did not even feel the urge to dance; had to force my feet and body to respond. Not surprising, we left before one.

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Recently, a close girl friend of mine commented on me having a blog again. She asked if I still had her old blog address, which lead me to heave a sigh of relief that I had deleted my old ones. Oh, the trauma of having to read those juvenile entries! The inane topics and gossips that we used to blog about was seriously laughable. Hell, we should have been laughing at ourselves as we wrote them.

There were a few serious topics interspersed between those childish thoughts though. Topics such as the books we read, the philosophical and theological discussions that we had, ideas that we deconstructed and the like. Seriously missed those days, sitting around and talking about the existence of God, the similarities of religion, the connection between religion and philosophy, plowing through Nietzche and Camus, existential writers like Kundera, defining the need for individuality and understanding the workings of the human mind. I remember there was even once, a group of us, in between lessons, actually sat for 5 hours straight and discussed the Grand Design. We eventually gave that up when one of the group threw in the preposition that God is binary code. Highly enjoyable times.

I sincerely missed those days. The screaming, shouting, swearing, fervently pushing our own thoughts and ideas. Now, I'm ashamed to say probably can't even last an hour.

Despite that, I do hope to have these sessions again, be it with my extended family of friends or with new ones. And whether I make a fool of myself or not. Haha. Besides, isn't a bigger fool someone who is ignorant and proud? I believe that knowledge is not gained just from books alone but from discourses. Only then, do we truly learn.

This is a long shot but I would still like to ask, anybody like to have these sessions? I would more be more than elated. Do drop me a message. :)

Scary Thoughts

Right, here I am, sitting at home on a Saturday night. Its 2 in the morning and I've had 3 glasses to drink in my room.

Best of all, I'm writing my book.

Yes, you've got it write, erm, I mean right. Ok, excuse my oh-so-goddamn-lame pun. Seriously, I'm honestly sitting down and giving it my time of day to do what I've been wanting to do for the longest time. I've had my short stints, writing replies on forums and on my old blogs but for once, I'm actually doing it properly, with actual references and all.

Hell, I'm freaking scared. One reason I'm actually blogging about what I'm doing is so as to prevent my backing out; you can't back out once people know what you're doing, right?

Change. One of my biggest enemies right now.

I so need the Muses here right now, or maybe Dike, Goddess of Victory. Maybe Athena as well.

So I'm rambling.

This will not only be a dream coming true for me but an experience which I hope will lead to me understanding myself. Thus, I have named it after one of the most famous aphorisms - Nosce te Ipsum, or simply, Know Thyself.

I have no idea when I'll complete it, or how long it'll be. I just hope that when its done, I'll have learnt something new about myself.

On to the more mundane things in life.

This one week break has meant a lot to me. Spending it with Baby, its a time I'll cherish and remember always. Going to the zoo, watching movies and just hanging out. That, to me, is the finer things in life. No Gucci or Louis Vuitton will ever replace that.

Baby, if you're reading this, I want you to know how proud I am of you. I'm happy that I could spend this week with you.

Sayings

In Poly year 1, my lecturer asked us to dissect these little lines:

Our doubt is our passion and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.

Imagine, fresh out of secondary school and thrown such an assignment. Still, plunging headlong, I began my paper.

Looking back, this has been something that I've remembered. In fact, one of the few things i remember. Its still holds the same meaning to me, albit a slightly different one. It has also thrown light on different areas, a light that has given me the strength to carry on.

Next Monday would be our 7th month. Looking back, I have absolutely no regrets. Despite the fights, hurt and loneliness at times, I'll gladly go through it all again.

Baby, I do love you. The doubt that I experience, I must admit, is still there, but through your love and you being by my side, has become my passion. A passion that is not a task done begrudgingly but one out of my love for you and thus, inexhaustible and I believe, inextinguishable. The madness is the love that is born, something that is so beautiful that it has become a work of art.

I don't want to ever lose you.



And now, some pictures from a scrumpalicious dinner at Xi Yan.

Yu Sheng

Golden Oyster Nuggets

Tomatoes in Wasabi Sesame Sauce

Tofu in Golden Yolk Sauce


Pagoda Pork Belly (which I couldn't eat)


Sorbet with Sugar Cane Crystals

Emperor's Greens

There were many other wonderful dishes, all beautifully presented. Was really a fantastic dinner with a cozy ambience.

The Castle of Crossed Destines

Using the tarot cards to tell a story, genius Italo Calvino weaves his magic with the aid of the age old fortune telling device, the Tarocchi.

A castle, supposed to be an impregnable fortress, has turned out to be a prison from which I am unable to escape. Trapped in this huge space, crippled with my inability to know the future, I'm paralyzed by my fears.

Sorely in need to know the future, my hand is stayed only by the knowledge that I must not tempt the Moirae.

I entreat the help from the Gratiae in this time.

Help me through this Minotaur's maze. Let me know that I have not make the wrong decisions.

I have never been so afraid.

The Spiral Staircase

The need to break out and to find one's true calling.

Experienced by Karen Armstrong, Catholic Nun turned writer. After years living in the cloister, she moves out to stand on her own, through ups and downs, sickness and health to find her place as a writer of various religions.

Sigh. A dream for me, to publish my own book on religion. A dream that has pretty much been swept under the carpet.

That being said, I must say that I'm pretty satisfied with where I am today. Gone are the days where my friends and I had to share money to get lunch, to buy cigarettes, sleep at the Esplanade to wait for the first train home. Looking back and reminiscing, those were fun days. Looking ahead, I'm thankful for all that I have. A job, friends, family and of course, my fiance.

I'll never forget the day he proposed.

In a world without absolutes, I've learnt to take each day as it comes, to be thankful with what I have. Yes, the complaints and disgruntled thoughts abound but through it all, I feel very much blessed.

To my baby, I dedicate this little poem to him.

Falling through space and time,
Hiding in the deepest recessions of my mind.
Never thought that you would come along,
Pulling me free with your song.

With the dawn new life it brings,
And through the night my heart shall sing.
Like Cupid and Psyche's immortal love,
My hope for us soars on the wings of a dove.

Brave New World

Referencing Aldous Huxley's book, Brave New World, the protagonist is struggling against years of social expectations and ideals of what one must be. Divided from birth and with the future cast in stone, to step out of one's place, one's duty, one's caste, is anathema.

Sadly, this is still in practice. Not in any specific country, but in everyday walks of life. It may not be to such a drastic extent, but it happens still. In schools, the office, places of worship and yes, even in homes.


"Everyone belongs to everyone else". Another maxim inbred into the protagonist and the people. In a time when people crave individuality, the very notion of this idea is deemed to be absurd. Or is it? Could it just be a perception of individuality, considering how we do want to be accepted by others, our dressings follow a certain group and the like? For example, to be Goth, one must have gotten the idea from somewhere, someone else. Thus, he/she will start imitating the mode of dressing, the manner of speech, the ideas so on and so forth. Therefore, is there really individuality?

Will we ever be able to step out of our shells? Will we ever reach the state of the yogis, practicing for years till they reach the state of Nirvana?

Last night, seeing the crowds, seeing the people, brought this book to mind. What are we trying to achieve?

I'm not trying to display myself as a pompous ass, placing myself on the pedestal or in an ivory tower. Just trying to connect to myself again, that which is around.

As the Lunar New Year dawns, maybe my preconceived notions and perceptions of things will change. Another year older does not mean another year older. The so-called follies of youth may just actually linger a while longer.

To when I grow up.

To face a Brave New World,

as the clock ticks and destiny unfurls.
Looming ahead, behind gilded doors,
A treasure-trove of possibilities to be explored.

Of Human Bondage

That which ties us, keeps us, reminds us, that we are human.

After a super long hiatus, I've decided to start blogging again. Of Human Bondage, the title of William Somerset Maugham's novel. One that reminds us that we're all too human. The need to fit in, to be loved, to be understood. Something that is never more so prevalent, so sought after now than ever before, when the book was written in the early 1900s.

Looking back at my past posts, thoughts and beliefs, I wonder why I never did laugh at myself. The childishness and immaturity was indeed laughable.

The intro to my blog was a glimpse into how I looked at life.

Standing over the edge of the abyss, glancing into the chasm leading to Tartarus and facing the Queen of the Night.....

Time has passed, things are very much different now. Can't say that I've gotten wiser, or that I've gained a wealth of experience. What I can say is that perspectives have changed. The needs of yesterdays have faded to become whims of the past.

From poly, to the army and now, to the working world. A full year of working has taught me a lot, given memories to cherish, occasions to laugh at, situations to shed tears.

But I'm glad, I must say, as these events have all lead me to the one thing I treasure; he who has become paramount in all that I do, that I am even.

To the road ahead, thee I shall cross. At the crossroads, guarded by the Queen of the Night, I shall make my choice and bravely (I hope) traverse the path.

To the road ahead.