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.