Saturday, February 27, 2010

Grow up, please...

It's been a long long while since I've written something angsty. Perhaps it's coz it's been a long long while since Mama got angry. I do not know why but I seem to have a low threshold for people who are just plain rude and selfish.

If dad was around, people would've behaved. Out of fear or out of respect, who cares. One thing I hate the most is wearing Dad's shoes as the disciplinarian. I'm not the father for goodness sake. I do not do sit-downs and ask you why you do the things you do or why you talk the way you talk. You're not my kid. You're old enough to think and decide for yourself what's good and what's not. You're wise enough to know the things Mama likes and the things she doesnt. But why do you insist on doing as you please? Why do you love to piss Mama off like it's your favourite pastime?

The curfew. The attitude. Just because one's crossed the 21 mark, one's old enough to do as one pleases? Just because one's the sole breadwinner, one has every right to do as one pleases with one's money? So chuck the mother aside coz she's just some old lady who sits at home, cooks, do laundary, wakes up early everyday to make sure we leave home on time for work or school? Or the fool who buys you stuffs when she goes out shopping, gets you the presents for birthdays, makes you soup when you're sick despite all the times you piss her off?

What's so hard about taking care of her feelings? Hadn't it occurred to you that stress won't be good for her? Why so selfish? I know you have feelings too and you have a life of your own too and who is Mama to tell you what you can or cannot do but why can't you put her before yourself?

.....Unless of course you simply can't wait for her to be gone so that you can finally live life to the fullest.


It's sad that some, if not most, of us will only be happy when our parents are anything but parents. I know nobody's perfect but one could at least try. Right?

And I then remembered a question I asked my mother a couple of days ago as I was about to leave home for school. I asked whether someone like my sister will ever change her ways. After a slight pause, she said yes. She believes that it is possible for someone like my sister to change - despite everything. She's always ever so hopeful. The reason why I too am ever so hopeful. Grow up, please....

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Life's mysteries Part Deux

Indeed, life works in mysterious ways. Very very mysterious ways. Sometimes, in ways way too mysterious even for someone like me. However two days on, I guess life is not all that complicated afterall. We complicate things. We overthink, overanalyse and overkill even the simplest of things. At least I know I do.

After much thoughts and silent laughters and smiles, gone are the butterflies in the stomach and dark rain clouds that painted the rainbow black. Recently I've come to admit that I can write all the stories I want but at the end of the day, I know a story has already been written for me. And if my senses are still working, I'm sensing a story being written - and for the first time, not by me. It amuses me. (:

You know, like Keats, "I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days—three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty common years could ever contain."

Friday, February 19, 2010

Life's mysteries

Life works in mysterious ways. Most of us love to think that we're in control of our lives. But paraphrasing Henley's (he's a poet) Invictus, are we really masters of our fate and the captains of our soul? Or is there an invisible hand that make certain things happen when those certain things are meant to happen? The Realist that tries making things happen or The Dreamer that let life unfolds at its own pace?

I can only imagine how frustrating it must've felt deep down talking to someone like me - frustrating like when a Dreamer tells a Realist to be hopeful and a Realist tells a Dreamer that things happen when we make them happen. My humblest apologies. Some (or most) times, I can be one so full of himself too - which was why the world revolves around me like it used to around you. I also like to pretend that I've got the gift to see meanings behind words, questions and one's actions despite the fact that most of the time, these "hidden meanings" never existed. Some times though, they do. And when they do, one who is so full of himself will smile. Just smile. If smiles could light the whole night sky, he'll flap his wings and fly. Just fly.

Life works in mysterious ways. Very very mysterious ways. Sometimes, in ways way too mysterious even for someone like me.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

The Golden Necklace

As the bright star danced across the dark night sky, a boy wished his dad could come back home for just one day to celebrate his 56th birthday.

Tonight, I made my way back home as always. Same route. Same time. And I walked past that same jewelery store. The only difference was my thoughts.

I thought of the day when I'd buy someone something - a ring or a necklace, anything - and I wondered who that someone would be. But immediately I remembered my promise to Mama many many years ago when I was a boy. I think I kinda promised her to get a piece of gold jewelery on display at a jewelery store we were at. I told her that I'll get it for her one day when I grow up and have a salary of my own. Silly boy must've thought that he'd never grow old.

I'm old. As old as my dad now. And today being his birthday, the only thing on my mind was him reminding us children to make Mama happy. So remind me to get Mama that golden necklace when I do one day get anyone anything from a jewelery store.

(Draft 1. Mind's in a mess.)

Sunday, February 14, 2010

When it's not a game...

The problem is that even if you said "I love it", I'd not believe you. Julien, I no longer know when you're playing and when you are not. I'm lost. Wait, I'm not finished. Tell me you love me. Tell me because if I tell you first, I'm afraid you'll think it's a game. Help me, please.

.........Sophie, Jeux d'enfants

It feels like a game when one weaves words from a story into reality. It becomes a guessing game when one hides a word behind a word, a line between a line, a story within a story. It's been a dark habit that I've been trying to run away from but every time I slow down, thinking that I've finally managed to get away from it, Dark Habit sneakily sneaks up on me, taps my left shoulder and says in the sneakiest of voice, "Boo!"

Why the fascination with words? I ask myself.

Do I like playing games? I know I most certainly do not. But why then?

And why had I chosen to write all of the above instead of my initial simple one liner? I don't know.

But just so you know, I did try my best to leave it simply write the following:

"I laughed as they drowned in cement. Endless love at it's literal best! Not a typical love story but definitely my cup of sweet lovely tea. (:"

A world of my own invention

We've woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
..... John Keats, Bright Star

Thursday, February 11, 2010

When dreams come true...

If smiles could light the whole night sky, he'll flap his wings and fly. Just fly.


Fly he did that starry night. He flew up high with all his might when suddenly he remembered his fear of heights. He fell. Wakey wakey! No smile can light the whole night sky. No man can fly. A dreamer could, but he knows he shouldn't.

I used to think that a dreamer's dream knows no boundaries. I've always believed in even the slimmest of possibilities. I hope and I wait no matter how long it takes. But that starry night, I realized that there are boundaries that a dreamer can't cross, gray areas that he shouldn't tread and Pandora boxes that should never be opened.

That same starry night, I realized that dreams do come true. Along with that night, came a gentle reminder that I can write all the stories I want but at the end of the day, I know a story has already been written for me.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

The Heart's Affection

FRIEND: men always GIVE hope. women always hope. the outcomes are always hopeless. true?

ME: Not true. The hopeful women just havent met the right guy yet.

There'll always be two sides to a coin. Women do give us guys hope sometimes. But is hope what they're giving or is it just friendliness? Also, there are some guys who're always hoping too - hoping beyond hope for miracles to happen. The outcome, however, isn't all that hopeless. If it hopelessness that one feels, then may I suggest that one have yet to reach the final destination yet. It's hard for feelings to be mutual. A girl may have feelings for a guy but the guy might not. Likewise, I may have feelings for a girl but she may, or may not, feel the same way about me. So what do we do?

I guess one can choose to be impatient and start making a move after another to see the outcomes. Or one can simply choose to hope. Afterall, "It is He who created you from a single soul, And made its mate of like nature in order that you might dwell with her in love...." (7:189)

Finally, one cannot be faulted for being too patient and being patient does not mean that one isn't trying. To quote John Keats from the movie Bright Star, "There is a holiness to the heart's affection that you know nothing about."

Friday, February 5, 2010

The passing of Four

Reading books, writing stuffs, studying in the library, Soccer finals, Frisbee finals, misunderstandings, electric skateboarding, studying at the canteen, floorball, meeting new people, making new friends, sitting at the steps near the field under the floodlight-lit night sky watching people play frisbee, volleyball, soccer, cricket, studying at McDonalds, meeting new friend but not saying hi to new friend, attending a talk on "Singapore's Social and Political Landscape", Sunday morning soccer, more floorball, reading and writing notes, trying to do tutorials, interesting msn convos, and lots and lots of thinking.... and oh yes, the smiles too. And I also might decide to attend the upcoming Young Writers’ Seminar 2010.

This is a reflection of the passing of 4 weeks. For the first time, they hadn't been cyclic or routine. They'd been meaningful and eventful and somewhat fruitful and enjoyable. And Time flies when you're having fun. Hopefully the coming weeks will be better.