talking to myself

I feel like i've become stupid.

It feels so long since the last really intellectual conversation or discussion. Recently it seems that all the conversations I am involved in are just jokes and nonsense and chit-chat.

All contemplation is done introspectively, which is fine till i reach a point where the thought just runs in loops where you already know the answer to the question, and the question that follows the answer.

Its like squatting and scribbling at the corner of a room.

Retrospection

Probably one of the most important things that we have in our short violent lives.

For some reason it is not more obvious than ever that we Singaporeans spend our entire lives in a mad rush, looking forward to retirement and the dreamy idea of a pleasant coastal retreat with white sands, bikini-clad girls and swanky beach bars. Then when we reach the age of retirement, we realise we have to rush and worry for our children, for money to support ourselves and for brilliant ways to remain in contact with your honour-minding extended family. All of a sudden that escape to an idyllic hideaway starts to seem so much better, yet so far away and eventually, so impossible.

By then it is too late for a little retrospection.

We always try to believe that we should look forward to the light of hope, the promise of the future. But hope lies when you are overoptimistic and promises are often only as reliable as the currents of the sea. Of course, we can never predict the future, and in the face of global change our human plans merely crumble. Rather than despair or worry, we can instead reflect. Based on what has happened, trends and inferences, we can find the choice that will better light our jagged paths. Based on past mistakes, we can learn which of our instincts and tendencies to ignore or defy to pave a better road into the future.

Memories are seen and created through the perceptions that our characters wear. Memories are affected by what we want to believe, what we think should happen. They are endlessly warped by our own desires and so we wonder what to believe. If the last fort of reference for our future is a scrawl on fate and past events by our own hands, then what makes them more reliable than a random shot in the endless darkness ahead? Probably that is where retrospection comes in, as we look at the shapes and trends our personalities and the decisions made because of them, and we look at the factual and perceived outcomes of those decisions, and finally we learn about ourselves. As the chinese proverb goes: "知自知敌, 百战百胜".

We, ourselves, are the first and last frontier to potential and development.

The Singaporean way is to rush and stress and "chiong" for money and success. To avoid being left behind we have to fight and kill and drag ourselves over a mountain of piled bodies. We cannot stop, cannot look behind into the haunted eyes of those we pushed back, of those we left behind, of our own blank globes gaping like mirrors at us. To look back and not be drawn into that spiral of pain and regret is a challenge we have to overcome if we want to make a change in ourselves and perhaps, in the distant future, in our society.

But like every great journey, it starts with the first step. Our first step is to learn about ourselves and overcome our flaws, not necessarily by changing them, but by understanding when we should go against our instincts and intuition.

colour and clarity

I remember a short passage from somewhere, long ago, about a group of blind people in discussion at a school for the blind. They discussed sight and there was a line that had always stuck to me in the back of my mind, "the ones who felt the saddest were those who had once been able to see. And they cried blind tears as they spoke of what they had lost and never cherished, the beauty of colours."

People always preach that "we never truly appreciate something till its gone", and when its gone, its never coming back. I never bothered to try the ideals that others come up with, for if I do not believe in it, I would never follow through anyway. Its only after i lost clarity in my right eye that i am reminded how much there is to miss in this world. For I lost clarity and vividness.

Thankfully I can still appreciate the full clarity and richness of colour that I once had by closing my right eye. An awful haunting reminder of what I'd lost and never retrieve, but also a constant lesson to appreciate what I still have, for if I lose it I can never get it back.

But I still wish I could just cry.

The Good Guy

Reading the newest Dean Koontz novel i've got on my shelf, after a long period of abstinence. Cracking open the novel and whisking through the first two chapters, covering 20 pages, i was reminded, all over again, of how i fell in love with his books.

He writes with an almost cheerful tone, under which cynicism and skepticism are somehow subsumed. The characters are not explained but fleshed out through conversation and actions, so subtle and intelligent you wonder how the hell he comes up with books so quickly. They tend to be characters that are not outstanding in personality or skill, but are simply people faced with situations and who rise up to them. In all their average virtues, the characters stand out even more as they make sense, as you can relate somewhat to them. Did i mention that the dialogue in his books tend to be beautifully witty? Coupled with his flair with metaphors and analogies that is almost poetic, the book makes for an amazing literary journey into a world just like ours, yet unimaginable and unbelievable.

Now back to my book and cook, for i guess i ought to mail him soon.

his dark materials

Just finished the trilogy.

With the books focusing so much on Will and Lyra, the ending really brings up in me a melancholic feeling. Like the bittersweet tale where different people have different opinions at the very end.

Only pity i feel is the fact Pullman seems to be trying to sell some idea with this book. Interlaced within the text are snippets and statements that might not fit and even where they do, it seems like hes trying to give you a belief, to impose it on you.

It is not so much Anti-Christ as it is Sci-Fi-Fantasy. While references to the church and depictions of the bible and angels and sin and lust and battle do seem almost like insults to Christianity, that is merely a means to an end. It is with this familiarity that the book jumps out and makes some sense. Where the theory of dust is linked to dark matter and where quantum theory and angels seems relevant all of a sudden.

For i'd say that if there is a God, he/she/it'd be a big quantam function linking every particle and anti-particle in the growing universe, and whether it is God that is expanding the borders or the Universe is pulling God along by quantum inseparability, we wouldn't and would never know. And all his angels would be smaller functions, with their ranking based on complicity and efficiency of the function.

As a last note, with the introduction of the peace-loving, completely open-minded Mulefa, it was a jolting reminder of humanity's ever zealous streak towards skepticism and violence and distrust. For when the human Mary Malone stepped into a world of intelligent, backbone-less elephants, the latter welcomed her and taught her their language with kindness and patience. And when other tribes came they were all so trusting and calm towards her. In our world now, if such a creature arrived, even if it were received by the kindest people to exchange cultures and interact, there would be hordes of angry, stubborn, overzealous rioters hounding it, screaming blasphemy and monstrosity and freak. Like in Dracula, or Frankenstein, or even when the first real voyages were made in our reality - where the red Indians were annihilated, or the Africans treated like animals, and so on.


I don't really like it when books, especially trilogies or longer, end. Since i know the stories finished, and i can't do anything about it, and there will be no more twists or revelations even as the characters have whole lives of experience ahead of them. Damn, I'm falling into a book-induced minor depression again.

to be the last one who will sing you to sleep

It seems i have been overworking myself, if people tell me I've been looking worse and worse everyday, even as I keep my cheerful side on. Maybe its because of the morning duties, or maybe its because I'm juggling between two dissimilar jobs, with highly dissimilar bosses. Or maybe its because while I'm under this workload, i know that in the coming 3 or 4 months more from each side will inevitably pile up on me as NDP and the deadline for publication approaches.


And it really does annoy me that there are people who have nothing to do who stay back to look on and who keep looking all-so-stressed so that people praise their diligence and commitment and passion. And i say crap. And the world isn't fair of course, and i could easily play that game. And it would be a simple thing, a simple act that would have been expected by the arrogance of the "nurturers".

But i won't. To give in to inefficiency and become part of a beautifully decorated mess of scrap is not "developmental" to me. Honestly, looking at half of what i am doing now, i can only come to the conclusion that even if i were at home stoning, it would have been more productive to society than what i am doing.

I think i sound illogical, or childish, at least. Signs of degeneration, already?

no more lions and gazelles

As recommended.

I'm not too sure about the reasons, but there are 2 possible reasons:

1) The book's progress/prospected development would require me greatly in that period since picture compilation etc are under my jurisdiction.

2) The Woman decided that i need to learn to be nicer and more slavish towards her and so gathered her "friends"/"sisters" to recommend to boss to recommend i don't go. (quite possibly citing my ineptitude as exemplified by my improper attire at a previously mentioned event - suspicion of this raised by janny's brief notation and tone today)

In case 1, i understand completely that i am required and obviously am more than willing to work for Good Boss. After all respect earns you more than good manners, it earns you devotion.

In case 2, i say fuck her. I'd been more than nice, more than polite as compared to a normal working relationship. After that 20min speech, this is more than just a warning or punishment, this is a shout to me that she wants ingratiating from me, that she demands the slavish, worshiping behaviour she receives at times.

I could simply start a campaign of fuck-her now. I could go MO or appointments for the variety of pains and reasons that i can legitimately report, at all the times she requires me, and disappear to do Good Boss' work when I'm back. I could simply "draw the line" that the office has obviously lost, due to ridiculously widened job-scopes (on the pretense of "helping each other out").

But i won't. Because i don't know the reason, i cant be sure and i sure as hell ain't gonna be like her and assume. I will wait it out, and get my answer, and make my choice.

I can carry groups, organisations, ideals, beliefs, teams. But i don't ever carry persons.