I’ve moved to john-aidan.blogspot.com. The latest post prior to this will be posted there as a continuation from here. The current blog will no longer be in use. However, it will still be kept for reference and reading.
In the silent hours of morning I observe the night, the sleep, and Darkness. The night isn’t always silent and motionless. In the seeming peacefulness, the screams of dreams are painted on a child’s pale face. One’s relaxed breath is as lengthened and labored as a man waiting to wake in the realms of eternity. Hearts race against each other, fearing that any unseen ambition will be snatched by another stonger faith. The ground on which one sleeps shakes like a violent earthquake, provoking fear within the soul, challenging the integrity of one’s foundational beliefs…
The known life is what most are used to; death has always been taken for granted as another way of existing. Dreams, on the other hand, warrants the coexistence of life and death: One dies only to witness how he or she dies in absolute consciousness - in all sense of the word. One trembles in paralyzed rest, waking only in realization that the world is for the very first time perceived with another set of eyes that surfaced from the mind’s oblivion. The soul is observed from the spirit. The body lays still on what seems to be a death bed. In the least of expectation, judgment is witheld. One wonders whether death has indeed come, or whether death has indeed come.
The unconscious surfaces only to observe in horror the masacre of conscience, leaving the pale, cold, and still life the way it has always remained in the so-called reality. It leaves being… And at the sight of dawn, the dreamer awakes with the knowledge unconciousness left behind: that it never existed. The known life progresses as always, only to return to the routines of awaiting death since birth.
Broke. Spent too much. Wants and needs? I know not its difference. Life took and turn and still trying to get used to the whole idea of traveling on a different road. New church meant MORE new people (joy…). More or less four years of waiting paid off: I’m blessed with the lady of my dreams. Love tape needs a rewind (maybe?); entropy principle perhaps? Save the best for last? In the wavering balance of my feelings set against each other lascivious love and modesty. Newsflash: I HATE STUDYING. Period. Am I never sleepy? Work’s piling. Present’s more than I can bear; packaged: DHA’s for appetizers; generous serving of freedom, opportunity, and greed for main course, seasoned with lust freshly plucked; responsibility’s for dessert. Doing the dishes - consequence. Probably gotta rethink life if marriage is already slapping you on the face. Seriously. Bills. Car. Insurance. Hunger. Misc. The lot. Ultimately, I just want a home. So help me God…
Love is not a game. We don’t throw dices and see what moves we’ll make based on the chances we get. If life itself was a game of pure chance, everything would be mere coincidences; which is not. There is a reason for everything; and here’s why they’re called ’significant others’: It is only significant when you strive for it with a pair of sharp eyes, a couple of good ears, a mouth shut, a little faith, a dose of persistance, and a whole lotta mistakes. Get it right or otherwise.
And the curtains fall. I need my sleep.
There’s only so much, or so little, for that matter, we can do in this life. Yet this we measure according to the kinds and levels of significance. Some fight on, others fall away at the sheer magnitude of what needs to be done and the context in which it is done, not to mention to or for whom. Criminals seem to be best in this art; plenty of banks, jewelery stores, people, resources, etc to take advantage of. Some even benefit from the fact that police are after them (watch enough of Discovery Channel and you’ll get what I mean)! Just imagine… A huge game played by idiots, who really at the end of it turn out to be the smartest people on earth. And what do ‘normal’ people do? They constantly worry about having made sufficient contributions to human civilization and its significance. Sure, more ’smart and idiotic’ people are born into this miserable world every second… As if mankind isn’t suffering enough. Why can’t they just ignore the significance of their life’s work and appreciate the joy every moment brings… Just as criminals do?
I detest the concept of self and personality; for how can one be of his own essence when the self is one that requires searching? Identity, rather than self, that is. Yet how many of us actually have one with the facades we carry? Where reality is concerned, are we really governed by laws that we cannot defy? If so, who and what are we? If human interaction really is merely a game of variable manipulation, how can one’s integrity be upheld without pretension and false impressions? All the more should judgments witheld.
Respect and trust are earned qualities, they say. Truths, indeed, yet I question: Are we in desperate need to have others prove their worth to us and vice versa? While relationships, regardless of the nature it takes, are essentially governed by these qualities, what of unconditional states, e.g. love? These qualities are essentially naturally occuring; it is only human nature to expect justice regardless of the sincerity in which existing relationships are maintained; hence the detestation of true altruism. Disappointing indeed human expectations are. Are we merely what others make of us? If so, are we products of social constitutionalism and dynamism? In turn, our notions of ’self’ and ‘personality’ would all sum a severely mistaken identity.
Are these merely statements of repentance and change, or is this the beginning of an unending, rebellious justification for attaining the pleasures of our ever incomprehensibly deceitful hearts? Suffice to say, however, that carefulness, willingness, and purposefulness of the heart to desire consistency in positive growth is the first step to living.
Time irreversible
Memories unmistakable
Visions ever visible
Persistence unbreakable
Thoughts refutable
Pain unbearable
Chances probable
To fall – undesirable
In this loneliness
A void of emptiness
Finding the answers
To all that matters
Dinner on the first night was rather interesting. CY spent like forever trying to suck out just one sea snail (siput sedut)… Just imagine how long it took to eat a few! LOL… Next thing that came up during meals was toungue-twisting. Check this one out: "I am not a pheasant plucker; I’m a pheasant plucker’s son. I’m sitting plucking pheasants till the pheasant plucker comes." The only thing I find cool and cruel about this one is that ‘ph’ is pronounced as ‘f’… If one confuses ‘pheasant’ and ‘plucker’, just imagine how hard everyone would be laughing.
The finale road show was meant to be a history-making one where it’ll be declared the longest ever event run in Malaysia; the record goes into the Malaysian Book of Records. Thing is, the night shifts that I’m apparently in was nerve wrecking and extremely boring, escpecially the first night. There was barely anyone, and hence nothing to do, literally. Only significant thing that happened during this night was meeting SL, a girl whom I got to know (and can’t deny how pretty and sweet she is) while working together in USM at the Snapshots booth. Nice of her to actually buy me some snacks. *touched* Second night, which is now, isn’t that boring. At least there’s a bigger crowd, and I’ve repositioned myself from the info counter to YM booth, where most of the fun and people are. Above that, there was free coffee (had two cups) and I learned how to play darts (something new I initially sucked at). People here are having whole loads of fun missing the target (as in hitting some other place instead of the dart board) at the moment. And ya… The signature board’s really a sore-eye from afar; why don’t people have the sense not to sign on other people’s signatures?? Sigh…
Back to darts
~A sudden urge to write. Universiti Station, PJ. 0756 hrs~
Inspiration perhaps? Love struck at Skudai? Or an expression of pure boredom and frustration of being quarantined in my pitiful, dusty room because of viral conjunctivitis (thanks Joel Neoh; this is the third time some part of me is sick within the time spent of a couple to three months! wtf…)? One thing I learned, though: We don’t really wash - as in wash wash - our hands properly enough. Either that or viruses and bacteria have found new ways of cultivation in our ever increasing development.
Where has all the patience in the world gone to? To merely say that the world has gone into a great big rush doesn’t suffice. Seriously. Does one necessarily need to step on someone else’s (actually, my beloved white Spalding shoes… *sob*…) shoes to beat the crowd to board the train when everyone else is obviously as eager to get home? Kinda funny though. Maybe being in this rat race has somehow made me impatient in a different way; I simply couldn’t wait to recover from my sore eyes! Maybe mom might’ve been right about something, that I should have taken my time to recover. But I just wanted to get back to work so badly! Not only was ‘time money’, I really enjoyed my work! …*wonder*… Only time can tell.
Learned a few more things about myself since the past month or so. Never thought so much fun could come outta event organizing… That’s, of course, minus the data entry. Youth related a reason? Something else? I’m still trying to reserve judgment where working in the corporate sector was concerned. Merely an internship this is, but it certainly feels like a real job. It’s work anyway, duh!! As said, only time can tell if I’d start complaining about something. Then and again, I always complain. Hmmm… Sure, it’s tiring work, but for a person of my physique there ain’t much I can complain about, much less since this whole thing is more of a workout for me. Save membership fees for gym. Yay! And hey, I’m used to this kinda work; been training my whole life for this!! LOL…
Sensory sensitivity. Sometimes I don’t know if it is in fact annoying, but I feel as if my level of awareness has increased somehow. It’s as described by some religion (Hinduism??) that the world is merely an illusion. A dream. In Shakespearean terms, a stage, or a candle. As each layer of wax melts, so does the other ‘unimportant’ things in life. It’s amazing how much noise we proudce in one day…
~Thought interrupted. Shean’s here to pick me up~
1. Today’s brain fart: If life’s a joke, nothing’s funny. *Ching Yee’s lol pronounced* by me; Shean and I laughed.
2. Today’s reflection: This ain’t my usual writing style and material. Big holes in entry. Maybe I’m the hole. LOL…
~Lights out 0300 hrs~
There are no chains to which you are bound,
For the only chain is that of life – one God poured out of His divine love.
Perfection is not an over-rated state of mind,
For perfection itself cannot be contained
Within the frames of mere human understanding,
Nor can it be contained within the existence of time.
For if so, who would God be?
What would He be if He’s confined within the spaces of a bottle?
He wouldn’t be God anymore.
Who are we to judge His ways, much less since we are incapable of judging our own?
Who in a human mind, can say, “This is God’s way!” or “That is God’s way!”
when we ourselves are incapable of removing the speck in our own eyes?
But such is the power or love and grace.
He poured out His very Being unto us.
Though He sits on High, He threw Himself into
Our treacherous hands – that which is guilty of the treason of innocent blood.
Jesus died on a tree… And all hope was seemingly lost to the human mind.
We bound Him to our very weakness, and in doing so we died in our weakness –
As Peter did.
Broken and shattered, it is soon realized
That we’ve denied our very existence.
How did Peter feel when he denied Christ?
Judas sold himself for thirty gold coins
And hung his opportunity to be forgiven…
If only he had waited.
And since even the Father turned Himself away from His own Blood,
The measure of our worthlessness was determined at the death of Christ.
Who, in the sanest mind, can grasp his own worthlessness?
Who, in the right soul, would be able to forgive himself for such treason?
But such is the Love of God, that through Christ, He promised us a Comforter;
The Father kept to his vow and never let Christ see decay;
As such, His promise to us remains…
The Father’s ways are too hard to comprehend.
We can only long for Him and seek His Face…
Yet for the sake of His glory He cannot reveal His face…
Our hearts can only believe that we might see.
For we would never want to leave His presence;
Truly God knows our hearts.
