sick

July 21, 2009 § Leave a comment

sickinbed

I finally hauled my wobbly ass out of bed to the doctor’s. I sat there shivering slightly in the cold, white reception area, mentally composing my list of ailments for recitation.

I feel hot and cold at the same time. My body aches began two days ago and everything hurts so bad I can’t sleep. No, I don’t have a runny nose. Yes, I have a slight dry cough. No, I haven’t traveled overseas recently.

‘It seems to me you have a viral fever.’ Says doc.

This of course, means that he has nothing to give me that can actually cure me. He can, however, dope me up to alleviate the pain. So I took my 3 packets of pills, a bottle of cough syrup and 2 days medical leave, paid him $30 and returned home.

The drugs don’t work.
[cue music please]

Seriously. I am still in pain.

A wonder then, that I had 4 peanut-butter & nutella sandwiches today. I love the creamy, crunchy texture of peanuts and chocolate mushed in my mouth, washed down with either a coffee or a cup of earl grey tea. These sandwiches were in addition to my regular meals. Yep, unfortunately for me, the sickness has not affected my appetite at all.

Great. So when I return to the world, I will be rounder, flabbier and pasty because I’d been hidden away from the sun for so long.

[cue whine]

Cooped up with nothing to do, I managed to finish two books by Thomas Harris: Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal Rising. That was… nice.

funny commercials

July 10, 2009 § Leave a comment

The second clip reminded me of my father, who, in a moment of curiosity, did precisely that with my younger 6 month old sister.

‘She was wailing for your mother! I thought that would quieten her a bit!’ he said to me.

‘So how did it feel? Did it work? Did she keep quiet?’ I asked, myself curious.

‘Aah… I can’t remember anything but the pain. It was excruciating…’ he replied, wrinkling his face in distaste.

I still laugh when I think about it.

what have I done?

July 10, 2009 § 2 Comments

rockon

What.have.I.done.

I wanted to celebrate the fact the mad days are over. I wanted to stay at home, under the blankets reading a book. I wanted to relax, get lazy and watch endless movies on DVDs. To date, I have almost 10 books waiting on my table, 2 complete seasons of Entourage to watch, 3 seasons of Heroes and 4 movies piled on top of the telly.

Somehow, I found myself part of a team set on climbing a mountain and a mere two weeks after, signed up for a 50km marathon. True, I can hire a porter to carry my bag up the mountain and the run is split with another friend so I may only need to complete 25km. But what in the world am I doing? How did I end up here?

I grip my head in my hands and laugh.

I swear I am NOT an over-achiever. I am also terribly out of shape…

God help me.

Breathe in deeply.

Now, what shall I listen to?

welcome in…

July 9, 2009 § Leave a comment

bicyclegirl

‘Everybody has a secret world inside of them. All of the people of the world, I mean everybody. No matter how dull and boring they are on the outside, inside them they’ve all got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds. Not just one world. Hundreds of them. Thousands maybe.’
-Neil Gaiman, Sandman

Hello again.
Welcome to my world.
I’m new here, are you?

It would be great if you were because… you wouldn’t mind too greatly if we walked around together to explore its borders? I’d love it if I had someone along with me while I learned more about my new surroundings. It’s like biting into a strange but beautiful fruit. All the anticipation for the first bite, the first taste builds up. But only after you’ve carefully inspected the skin, felt it’s weight in your hands and smelt it’s new scent… only after all your senses have explored the fruit are you willing to bite into it.

I think this place is digestible. I think it could be great. But of course, it would be better if I had a friend with me while I did all that.

Companions. They make life go down just that wee bit easier…

‘Walk any path in Destiny’s garden and you will be forced to choose, not once, but many times. The paths fork and divide. With each step you take you make a choice, and every choice determines future paths. However, at the end of a lifetime of walking, you might look back and see only one path stretching out behind you or look ahead and see only darkness.

Sometimes you dream about the paths of destiny, and speculate, to no purpose. Dream about the paths you took and the paths you didn’t take. The paths diverge and branch and reconnect. Some say, not even Destiny himself truly knows where any path will take you, where each twist and turn will lead. But even if Destiny could tell you, he will not. Destiny holds his secrets. The Garden of Destiny. You would know it if you saw it. After all, you will wander it until you die. Or beyond. For the paths are long and even in death there is no ending to them.’
-Neil Gaiman, Sandman

Hold my hand while we explore Destiny’s garden. Where will it lead us? I have no idea. But let’s skip, laugh, tease and have a wonderful time.

Because we have each other here.

rock the night in the dreaming

July 8, 2009 § Leave a comment

darkwaters

Some days, all it takes is for a song to define things for you.

I’ve gone through changes
I’ve gone through pain
But there’s not enough reason for me to go insane
I know the feeling, when it grows
I’m in a rage up from my head down to my toes.

You know it ain’t easy
Running out of thrills
You know it ain’t easy
When you don’t know what you want.

Rock now, rock the night
Till early in the morning light
Rock now, rock the night
You’d better believe it’s right.

I know my limit
Just what it takes
When things ain’t good enough
I just pull the brake
Sometimes it’s easy
Sometimes so tough
But just have one thing clear
I can’t get enough…

-Europe, covered by Hellsongs [listen here]

The border.

Armies fight over borders.
The writer writes within.
The doodler ignores its presence.
The children learn to respect it’s authority.
The lovers try to conquer it.

Some borders you simply can’t cross. They are too wide, too dangerous, too formidable. And that is why we dream.

People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.
-John Dee, Preludes & Nocturnes, The Sandman.

Dreams can’t die. They fade. They return like a child’s blanket, in moments of comfort. You can try to forget dreams but somehow, they are never truly forgotten. Something will always trigger it off again. Because as long as you live, you will always remember… in the back room of your mind, behind the closed door… you once had a dream.

Tonight, I dream.

500 days of summer

July 7, 2009 § Leave a comment

This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Tom Hanson grew up believing that he’d never truly be happy until the day he met the one. The girl, Summer Finn, did not share this belief. You should know upfront, this is not a love story.

‘Did you ever even have a boyfriend?’

‘Of course.’

‘What happened then? Why didn’t it work out?’

‘What always happens… life.’

I’m going to let loose my girly element, dig my toes into plush carpets and chew my nails while waiting for its release. In the meantime, I’ll content myself with the soundtrack. *wheeeee*

comparing

July 2, 2009 § 1 Comment

writer

Beautiful.

I read his entry and inspired, I came back to my space and stared at the screen for a while. My words felt clumsy. Silly. Child-like scribbles on the wall. The thoughts in my mind were there. They just floated around like dust in a ray of sunlight, unwilling to string themselves into prose like his did.

Why don’t you just give up?

I thought about it. I really did. But then, I never did begin writing because I wanted to please a reader. I wrote because there is no other way I know to reach deep within myself and make sense of my convoluted, sinewy lines of thoughts. I write because I need to. Sometimes, they are inspired. Sometimes, they meander. Tonight, I write like an unfit man who just started running his first mile.

And while I sulk, you can read his writing below. Enjoy.

“She was a girl made out of words.

I would never find out how she came into existence, the way she burst into being into this life. I imagine it would be like the way the colours change and shift during sunset – blazing amber and diffusing angry orange, lightening and softening into a hazy mix of blush-pink and rich lilac, all in the space of mere moments – and before you knew it, the sky darkened as it swelled with the hues of a deep, mysterious purple.

You stood there, mouth agape, eyes transfixed, each filled with colour. Tasting the sweet salt of the sea air on your tongue.

Looking away your gaze would fall on her, woven together by strange alphabets wrung from lost languages, finding her way into your world in those moments the colours changed. Those moments that your eyes missed.

And just like that your world had changed forever. With a single glance. It’s just like how that tired old cliche goes: ‘Words have power’. If you let them, they reach into you with long fingers and a grip like death’s: they will wrap themselves around your heart and write themselves across it.

Words can have a hold over you that clings on even in the afterlife. They unmend and they unravel just as well as they make sense of things. They destroy. Just look at how words on a screen can break the heart of a boy miles away. They drip hate, unveil scorn, and they will leave you behind with the same fierceness with which you pursued them. They leave you utterly alone, gasping, crying even, in the darkness.

But words — they are the dreams of heaven. The bliss turning your toes fleet and light as if they could fly. The brightest smile you have ever seen. They’re all just words. Words that read themselves out to you, long and soft and laced with music like a voice over the phone, strung together by sentences and syntax, pulled like string into the most beautiful girl you know.

She was just like that. A girl made out of words.

It scares me sometimes, when I realise that words are the only things I have left in me.”

Comparing. There’ll always be someone out there better. Someone more articulate, smarter, prettier… I guess somewhere along the line, we’ve just got to get comfortable in our skins. Thank god there’s always someone out there who inspires us to get better at what we’re doing.

Thanks dude.

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