Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Crazy YAWPing barbarian
Too eager, too impatient, too stupid.
In trying to impress you, I'm slowly becoming a stupid barbarian caveman, YAWPing all over the place, but not knowing what damage he's doing. This barbarian goes jumping with his club, smashing all the fin pottery in the shop. Breaking the delicate glass around him, and making people feel very, very upset.
Well, the barbarian hope that he still has a chance of redemption. A chance to prove himself, to prove that he can become a gentleman.
Now, he has to wait in line, but he worries that he won't get a turn.
And he realizes that he should tell her that. Question is how?
Gavin
pondered @ 16:02
Saturday, March 25, 2006
broken
Uncertainty.
Not knowing if I crave it bad enough to go against the rules. Rules... Ironic words. Rules are made by man, and the only I should adhere to them is to keep myself alive. There's no greater nobler truth to these rules. Just a hope that if you abide by them, everyone else would too. It's a double dare so to speak.
Sometimes it works.
The hardest part is to not lose the faith and confidence of the people in the process of helping them. Rules have to be broken.
Carpe Diem. I'm going to break some for my own sake.
Well, I might as well give it all I've got.
Gavin
pondered @ 15:08
Friday, March 24, 2006
TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME.
by Robert Herrick
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying :
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer ;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may go marry :
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.I don't have many things to teach people around me, so I share with you the lessons a poem prescribes.
Gavin
pondered @ 18:33
Don't give up on me.
Years spent living in a "man's world" is precise reason to dispute any apparent and perceived ability to understand the female psyche. Truth is, it is all at best untested hypotheses, with neither a sliver of truth nor possibility contained within.
Bigotted minds like mine would conveniently associate and try to subjugate the workings of the female mind as a slight variation on the male psychology. That is a rather careless assumption to make, once again demonstrating an inherently naive and immature state of mind that I have yet to have addressed.
Once again, dreams are the corridor to one's inner. The window to one's raw, unadultered emotions. Dreams reveal to me, the deepest fears, the darkest secrets and revealing that the concious thoughts are merely a weak farce.
The dreams say to me, "It is futile to deny your nature." Concious control over the body, the mind contemplating every action, incessantly droning on. It put forth a brave facade, as tought it was proud, dignified and mighty, but the truth is, it dare not let its guard down. Always on its toes, peeking out the corner of the eye, the mind is unwilling to relinquish its firm iron grasp on this body.
The dreams they say otherwise. The dreams. The dreams, they strip all assurance from my head. The dreams, they send a message to my heart. The dreams, they remind me of my weaknesses.
I dreamt the night before, I caused grevious hurt. I dreamt that night I felt excruciating pain. I am starting to comprehend the meaning behind the dream. Not a dream of longing, nor a dream of yearning. I only dream this because I have been causing hurt.
Reiterating a simple message.
How much is real?I stand in my dream, having lost my shining armour, my gallant stead long removed from sight, and the flesh is bare. Stripped apart are the layers of planning, gone are the meticulously crafted reality, and left behind is an arena that is truly, and suerly closer to reality.
Then She asks me, "Do I care about you, or is it meerly the circumstances that gives life to an illusion?" Like forever binding a lark to a chain. The lark is only by my side so long as I keep it in tethers. Will you fly back to me if I removed the string on your feet?
The dream reprimands me. "That is you! The boy holding a hundred thousand strings. Such sham, such shame, for you will never know, for you dare not let go. Forever and ever it shall remain your obsession. And you shall die alone, pulled asunder in a million varying directions!"
What do I know about the pain of the world? It has but been an excuse to hold ever tighter on the strings. To transform uncertainty into grief, and grief into guilt, and finally, guilt into melancholy. A melancholy that masks the fear of ever losing control.
Maybe, all you've been trying to say is that I deserve to feel happy. That I am entitled to the fruits of joy.
The message is clearer with each passing day. I don't want to tie you to any string. I want you to be free, I want you to fly up high. It doesn't matter if it's without me. I only hope that you have not given up hope on me yet.
Gavin
pondered @ 02:36
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Seize control, unless you want to be the antagonist in everyone's life. Stop imposing those insane code of "honour" onto the world around you. The world is made of all the other people. What manner of fairness to demand they cede to my whims and wishes?
It would be merely promising them empty gains.
So I make a better world, for ME. if the better world doesn't even sound appealing to you, what manner of wishful thiking is it to assume that there are people who have not heard it that will approve of it?
Too far out of reach.
At present, a mingling of unrelated thoughts, and an amalgamation of irrelevancy. Why do I even need to start thinkin how you think? How you would find my dreams, my hope, my fantasies?
Simply put, I need you. I need your support, and understanding. I can sit here and cry out for a million years, hoping by luck or chance someone who understands my ideals happens to find these words, but then I know that I need to start with you.
A failure to convince you, or you, or you. That is a failure not to be cast aside as a fleeting thought. IA critical failing in essence, it hearlds a failing of the individual blocks, the basic pillars of what I am working towards. If I don;t convince the people one by one, what hopes do I have of ever gaining their support.
I really, sincerely need a pair of kind hands to understand, a warm shoulder to lean on, and someone that will support me.
Gavin
pondered @ 22:17
Monday, March 20, 2006
I truthfully don't have a clue.
Stuck in a little shell of concrete confined to a self fufilling prophecy which dictates that I should be endlessly circling this vicious cycle. There simply is no motivation to get out of this hole, no avenue to take my mind of life.
Loneliness sets in especially when no one comprehends the ideas that brew in my mind. I am a hopeless romantic, and a senseless victim of fatalism. No! that is incorrect. I do not subscribe to the notion that all in the Universe is predestined. I find it incredulous to believe that there has already been an end even as the process is beginning.
Things I do are inconceivably irrational, and inside this body beats the heart of a poet waiting to go. An artist deep inside, that I cannot deny. As it goes, dust to dust, ashes to ashes, is there a point is a live a mellow, pointless existence?
I want to do things because I feel like doing them, I do not want the chains and bounds of perception to cloud the energy inside of me. Seize the day! Carpe Diem! At least that's a philosophy I can associate with.
Yet, all are prone to bouts of self-doubt. Selfish gremlins bearing cruel reminder to the fraility of a human mind, that taunt men, chiding them for their silly games, and ultimately coercing them into a state of inertia. inertia that slowly and steadily forces people into a gradual death. A death that signals the demise of concious participation in the game of life, and heralding a change into the existence of an automaton.
Only few exceptions break this monotony, and the two most important ones I am powerlss to help. "Powerless". It suggests possession of a ability to effect some change, it is rather hilarious considering that I have no right claiming I am better off than anyone.
In the end, I can only be responsible for myself, any act in contradiction to that rule would be a travesty. It's not wonder why I can never grasp the secrets of leadership nor love.
Is it even a wonder that that I am still seething mad since this morning?
Is it a surprise that I am lost?
Damn it all, even I have no inkling what transpires these days. Just that there's a deep intuittion that screams saying that the time is not that of the harvest.
Gavin
pondered @ 18:04
Saturday, March 18, 2006
The world has not changed much since humans took the liberty of proclaiming themselves the owner of this planet.
War after war, fighting persists. The only difference is that the weapons are getting bigger and more deadly by the day. Every time we seemingly settle into a period of peace, somewhere, the drums of war begins to beat again.
Why?
I cannot comprehend why this is so. Perhaps it is in man's nature to dominate, to enslave ever other under his single authority. I feel it myself, and I am sure almost any other male can relate to this.
Then the question that begs to be answered is "When is it ever going to stop?"
Would we have to wait till the day that man destroys the whole planet for any change in the status quo? I certainly hope not.
Gavin
pondered @ 20:48
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Try my hand at poetry
Since when did I start looking into the night sky, wishing on a star to see a smile? Staring up the velvet curtains, thinking that if I was worthless, I'd know that there was still something to hold on to.
I long to be in love, alas, it's illegal.
Like that's going to stop me.
I'm starting to realize that I don't need you, but I cherish you.
Gavin
pondered @ 22:06
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Murder most foul
An attempted murder. An unopened packet of chilli, and plastic fork in the cup. But I guess what I really want to say is thank you. Thank you for making my day that much more sepcial, madame Invisible.
Making me start to feel emotions, making start to be more human. Mr. Tan, my wonderful team, and the lovely Invisible Lady.
Gavin
pondered @ 22:38
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Not comfortable
"Perfection, might not be perfect." thus proposed Houfu.
I had raised the example of the Rollei camera company, which made cameras of such quality that people could buy one, and it would last till this day. Now, the Rollei company is very healthy financially. This is a fate many companies of yester-year share, though Rollei is one of the few fortunate ones to still be in operation.
Interestingly, what lead to the demise of such company is not their inadequacy, but rather their superior quality. Afterall, a Rollei camera would last you a lifetime.
It's differenet today. Companies have to constantly sell their products to survive. Or so that is dictated by the laws of "progress".
To constantly improve and better things, but what if people started making things that were not meant to last?
A deliberate attempt to ensure that a constant demand of their goods would be upheld.
Could it be possible that modern economics is forcing a status quo to ensure that the cycle of money is maintained?
I was mulling why humans had lost so much of the optimism we once had. I can fondly recall a age where hope filled the human minds. The hope of advanced space travel. The desire to save the environment.The hope of magnificent scientific breakthroughs. The passion for the advancement of human progress has been sorely missed.
Is it a coincidence that such endeavours are the least economically viable ones?
Paranoia? It's not very pleseant is the world decides to remain this way. People leading their own seperate lives, and the cold spread wide. The distance between men shall pull ever further with the advent of substitues for physical interaction. Individuals withdrawn into their personal dream. An endles dream, the endless fantasy. Everything shall be perfect there, and the only ones who are wrong is the rest of the world.
Cold, barren place, thus one shall find. it's only perogative, is the extension of its temporal existence. Slowly, gradually consuming all, and assimilating all just to ensure it never ends.
So, will the endless woes of the people, people who kay claim to it all, they line their pockets to find gratification, only to realize that the cold paper brings no warmth. Just like a drug that loses it's rush, the more they get, the more they crave, but the craving never ceases.
Gavin
pondered @ 21:10
Thursday, March 09, 2006
The Road Not Taken
I did something really, really silly this morning, but because I wanted to, and because I believed in 'Carpe Diem', it doesn't matter what the outcome ultimately was.
Robert Frost - The Road Not Taken
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
The Dead Poets Society has been a very inspiring movie, and I still attempt to digest the numerous morsels of information and truths, ideals and ideas. Whilst they simmer and brew inside my head, the create little epiphanies.
On of the more prominent quotes that the movie used was the last line of that poem.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."It's a very deep and profound poem. I feel that the path less travelled could refer to several metaphorical paths, but most prominently, I feel that it refers to paths inside one's minds. Actions that one is prone to repeat, things that one will instinctively do out of habit.
Sometimes, it is important to break out of that cast, for the path most often travelled might not be the best path, jsut that there will be less rocks and grass scattered along.
Are we, as humans, creatures of habit?
It might appear so, and it might thus be true, but I don't necessarily concur that it is the only possibility. Heaven's bemoan, but we humans have the choice to live outside our habits.
Just remember, just because it's easy to choose the well trodden path, just because it is hard to break off from convention, or just because it's hard to step outside conmfort zones, does not imply that it is immpossible.
Gavin
pondered @ 20:13
Seize the Day
Inspiration comes from anywhere, a fleeting moment, a rainbow coloured butterfly, the puoring rain or even, a simple word. They work miracles, when presented at the opportune moment.
For this moment, the words "Carpe Diem" have brought new meaning in a tumultuous time.
Carpe Diem, in latin, is to pluck the day. To pick the flowers while they are in bloom, least finds empty branches in the day to come. Carpe Diem speaks of not worrying today, and tells one how to go ahead. As said, such that one might cease to lead lives of sullen monotony.
More importantly, it is a reminder without regrets.
Carpe Diem. To so pursue one's dreams, that such will never come a day when one shall ask what worth was it. To lead life without remorse, with force and great aplomb. To straddle in on a wayward cloud, and waltz out like a graceful butterfly.
Carpe Diem! To live without regrets. To try it out for at least one time, regardless of fear that one might fail.
But also remember that Carpe Diem, is not blatant excuse for decadence.
Thus I say, go forth, SEIZE THE DAY!
Gavin
pondered @ 01:49
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Lost in a Wonedrland. First I need to find the mirror, then I must fix things up.
Gavin
pondered @ 00:16
Saturday, March 04, 2006
It was funny and the acting was excellent, but under this production team, the play felt almost like a propaganda mouthpiece. Somehow.
But I still give it 70 out of a 100, though I must once again lament the inadequacy of the Drama Centre @ the National Library in providing a pleseant viewing experience. Circle 2 seats were horrible, but stall seats were not any better. The stall seats are too close to the stage.
Anyway, the main highlight of this post is a place Nick brought me too. The V Tea Room. Excellent ambience the place had, with it;s Victorian theme. Quite a stark contrast to the Zen theme of the Tea Spa. This time, I stuck to the regular English tea. Tried this Queen's Tea, a mix of Earl Grey, Darjeeling and English Breakfast. It was quite marvelous, the tea. I reckon I had 3 cups while sampling their Grand Marnier Orange Liqueur Teacake. quite fabulous. A light fruity cake, that is almost flawless save for the slight taste of uncooked butter present.
I really loved the place, but it's rather expensive. Nick and I had 1 pot of tea and a cake, and it cost us $32.
Here. marvel at the nice beautiful card.
Gavin
pondered @ 23:41
Thursday, March 02, 2006
I hear an incessant cry in my ear. The screams from the planet warning of an inpending doom. I hear the pain, the suffering of a hundred million creatures, and I also hear, the silent fury of a planet abused.
I feel helpless when I see the chaos around me.
The world that accomodates me, the world that nurtures me, it is a world built upon blood. That world will continue to draw the blood, the blood of a million lives I will never see.
Lives that shall be bred, only to be cruelly snuffed out in an infinite loop. Everyday we live, a hundred others suffer, and a hundred other lives are forfeit. Just for one.
The cycle remains largely unseen, the ugly side hidden from view. However, what remains hidden from sight is not necessarily non-existent. Afterall, ignorance is bliss, they say.
Ignorance. Is it really bliss? But why not ignorance, the deadly sin?
And yet I can hear it all. It's quite painful, knowing that I'm partly responsible. I can't see, but I hear. I feel sometimes, and I cry for you.
I cry for a planet whose child destroys her. I weep for a planet whose child enslaves his brothers and sisters. i shake my head, for man who deems him to be above all other creatures.
Gavin
pondered @ 19:29
