Relations

Look around the relative's house you're in. Chances are you aren't close to half of them. Maybe nearly every last one. Sucks to only be relatives by blood and name.

Don't really like posting like this. There's no story, no deeper meaning, no purpose, no impact. It sucks to only talk about ME ME ME ME ME. You're not that interesting. Neither am I, but I don't care, you do. Sucks to be you.

Chinese New Year has merely augmented, amplified, intensified the dull pain. This is not a happy post. Listening to my sister on the piano is distressing. Listening to my playing is depressing. =)

I have a niece. I'm old.

Paths taken, paths not

The faint glow of a light, smothered by a sizable chunk of Himalayan salt, an enigmatic sheen of fiery red, its seemingly random shape and craggy, imperfect countenance strangely reminiscent of the sun. Beautiful. Immaculate.

The ceiling fan whirls almost soundlessly above me as I lay still in my warm cavern, a little corner of shelter from the rush of the world. I face the stars that are not, I see the futures that may be in them; or perhaps the futures I want to be. Try as I may I cannot shake the dense illusions which uncertainty brings, a black hole of many things found wanting, many without a name in any language spoken. Turning to my side, I face the blue walls of my shrine of thought, shadowy and ever as pristine. For a fleeting moment I am free of the immaterial shadows the futures cast, until the stars return, dancing before the mirrors of my soul. On the edge of sleep, parallel futures reveal themselves to me, or want to, for they are distant and muffled like listening to someone from across a chasm.

A light filters through the semi-translucent curtains, almost fluid in the half-light, rising and falling with the ever so slight fluctuations of wind flow, like the waves on the beach from a dream of long ago. There was the sighing of the wind, soft and melancholy, the gentle lapping of the waves on my feet as I stare into a shining river in the sky. Far in the distance the birds seek accommodation from an island of choice, discerned without conscious thought, like a dream. The atmosphere itself glimmers, as if saturated with gods and magic.

Dream takes me away. I see fragments of the story (of which little do I remember) of the boy who is me but is not me unfold before my dream eyes. The boy has a snow white cat in his room, which I do not. I ponder the array of possible meanings, the symbolisms. Such a diverse and muddled myriad of possibilities. Everything is in its place and need not be moved. The faraway voice echos, resounds. It calls once more: Time for waking. The convoluted duality of my feelings at the time confused me, maimed my thinking. Too bad; too good.

Waking into reality, the repercussions of dreaming still grasp me in their lazy, yet firm hold. Mesmerising me, dulling my senses. The sun rose; my mind followed dreamily behind, a gray shell. The blinding flare of reality, sans illusions, sans delusions, sans solace, strikes the eye of my consciousness. Realisation, I may yet have to walk the darkest road, the path which descends into fog, untravelled. Uncertainty grips me, an icy hook on my soul.

Prayer. Let all be revealed in time. If so be my destiny to travel the darkest road, or any other, may it be that I do not walk any road alone.

In discord your song sounds true.
Who else can it be but you?
Hear, my reply pure, and true:
A promise. Yes I do.

Written 10th February 2010. Dreaming, again.

Oh Morpheus

Shining through the darkness of my resting place, the gift of sleep descends upon my weary head, blessing me with temporary pause from the rush of the world. Dreams don't come so easily anymore.

A song in A major is a nice one, kinda uplifting, especially if the melody is yours.

I like dreaming. Morpheus is nice to me.

Nocturne at dusk

So I walked out of my sanctuary, out to the open world, with skies now fogged with invisible clouds of industry and machines. Greenery not as alive when the world was only a century younger. The earth barren in all too many places. Nostalgia for the times I never knew strike me, a lightning from a cloud of thought, essence of my mind, the core.

The first road taken. Mortar.
Nondescript scenes pass before my eyes, surreal, a dream almost. I walk on, I feel the wind behind me. I eventually come to the three steep steps to the void between USJ3 and USJ4. The vicinity is serene for some 10 blissful seconds, no screaming vehicles, no people, no sounds but the grace of silence. I think a prayer of thanks for the short but deep serenity. The masses of cars arrived soon after.

The second road taken. Stone.
The gravel beneath my preferred slippers. Thin-rubber soles grant me feel of the ground I stand on. The fine sand born of stone cling to my feet. They massage my weary feet, I carry on.

The third road taken. Grass.
There are two rows of trees on either side. They stand tall and majestic, magnificent in all their unharnessed splendor, bathing in the incandescent sun, reminiscent of the students of life, drinking the sweet nectar knowledge from the bosom of the All Mother. The foliage reflects the sunlight. The leaves they shimmer and in the caressing wind they sway to the song orchestrated by the skies. I long to listen, but I must press on.

The fourth road taken. Reverie.
I think. So many thoughts, only so often weaved into words. I think of the dreams where I see much. I think of the more recent dreams where I see nothing. Perhaps it was you who sealed the gate to my ethereal haven, for you warp my reality into a dream. I think of going someplace far away with you; France, England, New Zealand, wherever time takes us. The road's beauties are never ending, as long as I open my eyes and my heart. Much like your never-waning smile, like an ever full moon, opalescent luminescence, tracing the night sky, hanging in the heavens - a vigilant sentinel, guarding me, my flesh, my mind, my heart, my soul.

I walk on. The song is endowed upon me.
I feel the wind beneath me. I feel the wind all around me.
I am the wind; the wind my soul.
A nocturne at dusk.
My song for you.

Absolved Absence

Band today.
Attendance was horrible. Again.
We practiced sexism super well. Again.
Some of us practiced badly. Again.
People overrode our domination over the hall. Again.

Only one junior other than Shou Heng and Han Jin came today. Red shirted trumpeter.
Also the only junior whose name I feel deserves your attention.

Had my piano class with interesting finger exercises. Talked to Sea Yunn about French, songs and people, French songs but not French people. Talked about assholes. You know who you are.

I don't care much if people are rich.
But you know what I really abhor?
People who don't really have that much money but act like they do.
Changing phones frequently.
Constantly upgrading and acquiring gadgets.
Constantly showing it off then whining when it gets stolen or broken.
Seriously, you're sadder than a depressed robot.
And that's saying something.

Repaired like 5 clarinets for band. Going to repair another soon enough. Cleaned up a 300 series trombone Mr. Mah said was ancient (nearly two decades old) and worthy only of the dumpster. Zhao is now using it. Maybe I should create a saying " Do want, do waste".

Screw all this homework.

Shake the banana

School is tiring as always. Not to mention boring most of the time. *rolls eyes*
PMD was ok for the first day, sucked the second. Speaker has got a firm grasp of the obvious. No offense =)
Pn. Wong got hyper with the snide remarks and chiding. No surprise. Right?

Stayed back on yesterday for the Chess club I don't really care about. I am 3 years out of practice due to lack of opponents. So we (Me, Lee Yuin and Ken Ric) just did something called "entertainment". Definition of "entertainment" here being "insulting Nicholas Tan". We ended up calling him "useless failed senior rugby player". Ok it's an inside joke, don't mind my little musings.

Lent Salmon Fishing In The Yemen to Jo, mother scolded me in the morning for lending it even before she and my sister have finished with it. Opps? Crapped about the book being paper because Andrew Wong asked what's that. We can be so cruel at times. Lame as well.

Funny how the Form 5's now (especially you hormonal boys) have started to eye Form 3 girls. Eh, you can look but don't oogle. I dunno, some of you even have GIRLFRIENDS already. I'm no genius but I think she won't be very happy even if she doesn't mind?

Oh yea btw Sivik homework sucks. So does Moral. And I just abhor Add Math. Physics & Sejarah I comprehend only out of school.
I wanna talk to you so much, whoever you think you are.

My wings clipped; My heart a void; My sight bleak; My memory destroyed

Anticipation overflowed from me from the previous night as I awoke.
Drinking the Rooibos tea I had made, I calmed myself for the run.

Arrived at school and talked a little.
Warm ups and stretching were dully done.
My category was to start late.
I had to leave at 11.

I wanted to run.

It was nearly 10 and P1 had just set off.
Mother came to pick me, hunted for Han Jin who was keeping my phone and wallet.
Said farewell.

I wanted to run.
Anticipation overflowed me.
I couldn't run.
I will never run again.

The bliss of the wind flowing with you.
The sound of the trees whispering.
The beat of your feet against gravity.
Time and space enveloping you.
Nothing on your mind except the hunt.
The hunt for sanctuary.
Losing all troubles and worries, just for a while.
Denied.
Never to run like that again.

They all came back, but only after lightning struck their wings.