waiting for m
like two lovers in a roomful of strangers, when their eyes first meet, time stands still, so they say. they are amongst the noisy banter, the listless search to fill voids unbeknownst to all, the harrowing task of bridging gaps and filling silences with small talk, and yet, they are not of it. and as i sit here at this empty busstop waiting for m, i gaze up at those clouds above. that's all i have to do each time i want to feel that life is bigger than all this, all this. i love how small the clouds make me feel. i love how such splendour and majesty is only a tilt of a head away despite the smallness that i am. i love how i am not only a witness to that greatness but also a part of it. oh, clouds never fail to astound me. those glorious wisps of white and grey, we make a connection now, those clouds and i. the music streaming through my earphones provides an apt soundtrack to our secret romance. the buses and cars continue to whiz by, guitar-toting teens yell out to each other as they run to catch a 103, the church infront of me has almost totally emptied itself of the 6pm mass attendees, but i'm with the clouds and time has stood still for us. we move to our own slow rhythm and we go where we please, stopping whenever we feel like it. i only have eyes for the clouds now. and for those few moments, i'm somewhere else, not here. and then, a few seconds later, i am again, somewhere else, not here. my heart felt good. i prayed i didn't forget. i wrote it down.
Monday, October 06, 2008
and isn't it ironic...don't you think?
an old man turned ninety-eight
he won the lottery and died the next day
it was just 2.5 seconds of vengeful gnawing and grating of that gate on the unsuspecting blue volvo and i didn't know whether to laugh or cry at it all!
the night before, i gave myself some pats on my back, pleased at the work i did and the hong bao (red packet used to present money in as gifts) i got for preparing a video and photo montage for a wedding that took place just a few hours before. that night, i lay in bed beaming to myself, recalling the smiles of the couple and their families and friends, replaying the praises and compliments lavished on me and of course, reminding myself that my bank account was going to be plumped up just a little bit more.
the next day, i woke up excited and slightly more hopeful about the future. i decided to go for a haircut. i walked out of the salon with bangs, having been successfully cajoled by the hairstylist.
then it happened, that very night.
i was driving into a certain place. (lets just call it that in case i get sued! though i stupidly complained about the accident to the boss of that place whom i personally know yes what a bimbo i am!). it was pretty dark, only one gate was opened, and i drove my dad's car in ever so slowly and even braked suddenly once, seeing how close my side view mirror was to the gate on my right. thinking the worst was over, i concentrated on turning in front instead. and that 2.5 seconds of turning my eyes away from that gate was all it took to cause a dent on the right rear door and a nice constellation of scratches to boot. immediately, i saw that big hong bao deflate, just like my balloon of joy a few moments before. poooooooooof!!
therein lay a few ironies....
irony 1. refer to alanis morissette's lyrics quoted at top of entry. fat hong bao today, skinny hong bao tomorrow.
irony 2: of all the days of my life, i chose to cut bangs on that fateful day, never daring to before, since i was 4? and for the first time since i started driving, i met my first...."bang", complete with dent and scratches!
irony 3: you can be soooooo damn cautious with everything in your life, trying to control every single part of it, but you're only human. you turn away for 2 seconds, and everything you've worked so hard for can just...disintegrate. just like that.
and i thought about the rat and the tooth he cracked the night before he was scheduled to go for his dental appointment. he brushes and flosses more than i ever do or ever will. he goes to the dentist more regularly than me (the last time i went was when i was in primary school or something??). and he had been postponing this particular appointment for a while and had finally made up his mind to go for it on this certain day. and the night before, while he was eating dinner with a friend, he suddenly felt this little piece swimming around with his food in his mouth and realised that one of his teeth was loose and jiggling. he had no idea what to make of this, especially because of the fact that he had finally decided to see the dentist the next morning, clearly not foreseeing this tooth-chipping incident. besides, its not like he even bit into anything hard and he had always taken such great care of his teeth!
when he told me the story, i swear my first response was amazement and awe. that his tooth could have chipped at any time but it did so only the night before his dental appointment, as though someone had foreseen this tooth-chipping thing and prepared so damn precisely the timing of his dental appointment! of course, the rat couldn't get past the fact that only bad things happen to him and he couldn't see or feel the amazement and excitement i felt at this realisation. how could he? he was in immense pain and discomfort, aggravated by burning, provoking questions about his life and the state of it.
then i thought about that car incident i had. how come i couldn't see it the same way i saw the rat's experience? why hadn't, or rather, WOULDN'T i see that i had gotten the money just when i needed it?? noone could have predicted this silly accident. and it's not like i even have a stable job at the moment. and yet, i had the cash on hand precisely when i needed it, no later, no earlier, just on time. but i refused to see it that way, no way. i was just mulling and fuming over how i had worked so hard to create that montage, how i could not show my parents that i was saving money and my bank account was really not that empty, how i was back to square one again, how of all the things i could have spent that money on, it would have to be on something as silly and mundane as repairing car damages that could have been avoided in the first place. hell, i didn't even plan on being in that place at all till the last minute that day, and only after much deliberation and finally, resignation. oh, all the what-ifs and whys!!
yea, just too busy pitying myself and worrying about things i never ever worried about before, like money. i mean, it's not that i take money for granted that i don't worry about it. rather, i'm immensely thankful for the comfortable and stable life my parents have provided for me so selflessly. it's just that, money has never been anywhere at the top of my list of priorities. when i was younger, and this could even be last year, i could foresee myself living with much less and being totally and unconditionally joyful! and then, with all this stress of getting a "proper" job and "doing something with my life", i can't help thinking that this means making lots of money to shut everyone up and show them that i can "do something with my life" and "get a proper job". i know, what a sellout.
which brings me to irony 4. of all days, i decide to start on yet another of paulo coelho's book (the valkyries) the afternoon i'm getting my haircut. and it's all about dreams, as are most of his books, and how almost all of us always end up killing the things we love most, like our dreams and the people closest to us. and that accident and my response to it just opened my eyes to the fact that i've been storing my riches in the wrong places, killing my dreams in the process.
but you can't see all this if you don't look into the distance, into the horizon, can you? as we grow older, we stop looking around, marvelling at how new and fascinating everything is, and we start to look inwards and wonder why our souls are shrinking. why wouldn't they be shrinking? it's like the universe only contains us and our rituals now and how alone we sometimes end up feeling. when we look into that horizon, we expand our universes and our souls have more room to grow, to feel, to see, to revel and explore! jesus said, "let the children come to me and do not stop them, because the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
and today as i was at mass, i asked myself, could i still sit here and praise and thank you, god, for everything in my life, even and especially for the things you took away? and now i can say, "you give and take away, still my heart will choose to say, blessed be your name."
who knew 2.5 seconds could teach someone so much? it could.
mr. play-it-safe was afraid to fly
he packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye
he waited his whole damn life to take that flight
and as the plane crashed down he thought
"well isn't this nice..."
and isn't it ironic ... don't you think?
(disclaimer: the rat says i got the details wrong. he didn't chip his tooth during dinner and all the negative vibes come from me!! =P)
an old man turned ninety-eight
he won the lottery and died the next day
it was just 2.5 seconds of vengeful gnawing and grating of that gate on the unsuspecting blue volvo and i didn't know whether to laugh or cry at it all!
the night before, i gave myself some pats on my back, pleased at the work i did and the hong bao (red packet used to present money in as gifts) i got for preparing a video and photo montage for a wedding that took place just a few hours before. that night, i lay in bed beaming to myself, recalling the smiles of the couple and their families and friends, replaying the praises and compliments lavished on me and of course, reminding myself that my bank account was going to be plumped up just a little bit more.
the next day, i woke up excited and slightly more hopeful about the future. i decided to go for a haircut. i walked out of the salon with bangs, having been successfully cajoled by the hairstylist.
then it happened, that very night.
i was driving into a certain place. (lets just call it that in case i get sued! though i stupidly complained about the accident to the boss of that place whom i personally know yes what a bimbo i am!). it was pretty dark, only one gate was opened, and i drove my dad's car in ever so slowly and even braked suddenly once, seeing how close my side view mirror was to the gate on my right. thinking the worst was over, i concentrated on turning in front instead. and that 2.5 seconds of turning my eyes away from that gate was all it took to cause a dent on the right rear door and a nice constellation of scratches to boot. immediately, i saw that big hong bao deflate, just like my balloon of joy a few moments before. poooooooooof!!
therein lay a few ironies....
irony 1. refer to alanis morissette's lyrics quoted at top of entry. fat hong bao today, skinny hong bao tomorrow.
irony 2: of all the days of my life, i chose to cut bangs on that fateful day, never daring to before, since i was 4? and for the first time since i started driving, i met my first...."bang", complete with dent and scratches!
irony 3: you can be soooooo damn cautious with everything in your life, trying to control every single part of it, but you're only human. you turn away for 2 seconds, and everything you've worked so hard for can just...disintegrate. just like that.
and i thought about the rat and the tooth he cracked the night before he was scheduled to go for his dental appointment. he brushes and flosses more than i ever do or ever will. he goes to the dentist more regularly than me (the last time i went was when i was in primary school or something??). and he had been postponing this particular appointment for a while and had finally made up his mind to go for it on this certain day. and the night before, while he was eating dinner with a friend, he suddenly felt this little piece swimming around with his food in his mouth and realised that one of his teeth was loose and jiggling. he had no idea what to make of this, especially because of the fact that he had finally decided to see the dentist the next morning, clearly not foreseeing this tooth-chipping incident. besides, its not like he even bit into anything hard and he had always taken such great care of his teeth!
when he told me the story, i swear my first response was amazement and awe. that his tooth could have chipped at any time but it did so only the night before his dental appointment, as though someone had foreseen this tooth-chipping thing and prepared so damn precisely the timing of his dental appointment! of course, the rat couldn't get past the fact that only bad things happen to him and he couldn't see or feel the amazement and excitement i felt at this realisation. how could he? he was in immense pain and discomfort, aggravated by burning, provoking questions about his life and the state of it.
then i thought about that car incident i had. how come i couldn't see it the same way i saw the rat's experience? why hadn't, or rather, WOULDN'T i see that i had gotten the money just when i needed it?? noone could have predicted this silly accident. and it's not like i even have a stable job at the moment. and yet, i had the cash on hand precisely when i needed it, no later, no earlier, just on time. but i refused to see it that way, no way. i was just mulling and fuming over how i had worked so hard to create that montage, how i could not show my parents that i was saving money and my bank account was really not that empty, how i was back to square one again, how of all the things i could have spent that money on, it would have to be on something as silly and mundane as repairing car damages that could have been avoided in the first place. hell, i didn't even plan on being in that place at all till the last minute that day, and only after much deliberation and finally, resignation. oh, all the what-ifs and whys!!
yea, just too busy pitying myself and worrying about things i never ever worried about before, like money. i mean, it's not that i take money for granted that i don't worry about it. rather, i'm immensely thankful for the comfortable and stable life my parents have provided for me so selflessly. it's just that, money has never been anywhere at the top of my list of priorities. when i was younger, and this could even be last year, i could foresee myself living with much less and being totally and unconditionally joyful! and then, with all this stress of getting a "proper" job and "doing something with my life", i can't help thinking that this means making lots of money to shut everyone up and show them that i can "do something with my life" and "get a proper job". i know, what a sellout.
which brings me to irony 4. of all days, i decide to start on yet another of paulo coelho's book (the valkyries) the afternoon i'm getting my haircut. and it's all about dreams, as are most of his books, and how almost all of us always end up killing the things we love most, like our dreams and the people closest to us. and that accident and my response to it just opened my eyes to the fact that i've been storing my riches in the wrong places, killing my dreams in the process.
but you can't see all this if you don't look into the distance, into the horizon, can you? as we grow older, we stop looking around, marvelling at how new and fascinating everything is, and we start to look inwards and wonder why our souls are shrinking. why wouldn't they be shrinking? it's like the universe only contains us and our rituals now and how alone we sometimes end up feeling. when we look into that horizon, we expand our universes and our souls have more room to grow, to feel, to see, to revel and explore! jesus said, "let the children come to me and do not stop them, because the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."
and today as i was at mass, i asked myself, could i still sit here and praise and thank you, god, for everything in my life, even and especially for the things you took away? and now i can say, "you give and take away, still my heart will choose to say, blessed be your name."
who knew 2.5 seconds could teach someone so much? it could.
mr. play-it-safe was afraid to fly
he packed his suitcase and kissed his kids good-bye
he waited his whole damn life to take that flight
and as the plane crashed down he thought
"well isn't this nice..."
and isn't it ironic ... don't you think?
(disclaimer: the rat says i got the details wrong. he didn't chip his tooth during dinner and all the negative vibes come from me!! =P)
Sunday, August 17, 2008
glitter
it's like god accidentally knocked over a bottle of glitter while he was turning the lights off and he said, "ah heck, i'll clean it up in the morning," because he was so tired from just doing and doing and doing and thinking and thinking and thinking and everyone was always taking and taking and taking and "they're saying it's my fault now?" and "oh! look at what a mess i made made made...heaven?!!" and as he sighed in awe while his heart overflowed, his breath carried some of that bizarre glittery powder to the other corners of the universe that was his room.
i close my eyes now and remember that night. the silhouettes of the mountains in the distance, the sound of the gentle waves lapping onto the lake shore, the fact that it may only have been 10pm but it looked like the rest of humanity had vanished from the face of the earth, poof! i remember how still yet alive everything was, how my "hero" younger bro, pravin, was wearing a singlet and freezing to death, how my butt got a shock when it decided to make itself comfortable on a cold, cold bench. but mostly, i remember the stars. there were so many, too many! supernumerary (dictionary.com's word of the day)!! i mused about how anyone could ever have come up with the concept of "constellations" had they been staring into the crowded insanely beautiful mess i was staring at then. i think now, that if i ever become a psychologist, i'd use the cloudless night sky at te anau as my rorschach ink(glitter)blot test and i reckon that somewhere along the way in my patients' attempts to draw lines and forms in that mess, they'd surrender to the phenomenon of awe and wonder and forget why they were seeing me in the first place. oh, and i caught some shooting stars gliding slowly across the sky that night and i wondered whether the two of us were the only ones who saw them at that moment and i felt doubly, triply, quadruply lucky as i had always believed that to see even one in your life was a remarkable feat.
i think of the strange calm i feel now even as i know i may have messed up big time this time, again. a mess i knew i was making even while i was making it, a mess i just needed to make. it's like i was inside looking out and outside looking in all at once. i know i could have stopped myself but i also know that i couldn't. maybe one day i'll feel sorry. maybe. and now, i think of that sudden silence that shouldn't be there, that little empty space in that part of my universe tonight. it should make me anxious, it should make me pick up that phone and do something foolish and irrational. but i just look at that phone, that blank, blank screen, and i look away and marvel at how it is unusually quiet in my head. i think of god knocking over that bottle of glitter and thinking of the mess he was going to have to clean up and then looking around to discover that life was still beautiful, in fact, possibly more beautiful than ever. i think of that deeply silent night where my heart drummed loud and free to a tune only i could hear as i pondered that purposeful gleaming mess and how perfect it was knowing that i/we were the only one/s who could have been witnessing that spectacle together with those great, majestic, ancient mountains in the distance then. you were not there, life was more silent than usual....but it was all, amazingly okay.
i know i'll be okay. =)
Sunday, July 27, 2008
we're looking for the beach cafes as we walk along the sidewalks of cronulla, a beachside suburb in sydney. we meet a nice old lady who is everything a nice old lady can be.
"where are the beachside cafes?" we ask.
"i'm going towards them. you can walk with me," she says, with a welcoming smile and a soft, gentle voice. she interviews us and says, "welcome to australia," when she finds out we're not locals and were here for world youth day.
"coming home from work?" i ask, noticing her bag and the time of day.
"oh, no no. i was playing bingo with the other old ladies. we play bingo every monday. but my feet were sore and i decided to go for a walk." after which, she starts explaining bingo to us.
as we reach the first cafe, she bids us the kind of goodbye which you say to someone you've known for some time and you're seeing off at an airport or something and walks into the st vincent de paul store for a little afternoon shopping.
we walk down to the beach and it is, whats-the-best-word...pleasant. some young guys are playing some sorta rugby, it's almost sunset, we muse about how nice it is that there is a gym facing the sea and how the locals' equivalent of playing basketball on concrete between concrete in singapore is playing soccer on the beach surrounded by the waves and the majestic hues of the sunset sky every evening in cronulla.
and it's hard to imagine that just 2.5 years ago, racial riots occured here. and fast-forward to today, as i'm sitting in the car while we're on the way to dinner, i think about all this and my life and the lives of people i know while listening to the conversations going on around me about the strife and joys of other people. why do people do this? why do people tear at themselves and at each other when they have everything?
as the conversation in the car moves along, so do my thoughts. we're talking about the difficult yet necessary choices people have had to make. i breathe in deeper and my heart beats faster. will i ever dare to make those choices, at least one? a choice that will forever change the course of my life? while i was in sydney, we had a conversation about che guevera and the motorcycle diaries. his initial path was to be a doctor and a roadtrip changed his life forever. but the crucial step was allowing that change to take place. i know i've yet to be so much more, and i have the most ominous and pressing feeling that it will mean that my life will be forever changed and that makes me want to just be, well, not much. but then, boom boom boom like fireworks in my heart, these dreams rise up from time to time and send electric shocks through me. at these times, i feel like my heart would just burst through me any second if i sit here any longer. then, i just let the moment pass me by, i let the dreams grow smaller, i shrink with them. will these dreams forever pound against my chest, waiting to take flight, waiting to be..something? waiting?
i was watching a movie on my laptop with earphones plugged in when i heard the low and loud rumble of the fighter planes probably preparing for national day. i run to the window and look for them in the sky. this is my second favourite part of national day (first being fireworks, of course). and as i gazed at those planes, i was washed over by an epiphany. it's like you were in one of those planes, soaring, where you should be. i don't want your dreams to forever pound against your chest either.
i think about all this now. the collective pain and joy of this world. i think of how even the forgotten and the unlikely ones would each have their moments of glory and tragedy and romance and heartbreak and everything in between, how each one of us could have an epic movie made after us. and my gosh, it hits me that this world is so alive! all these desires, whether it is the desire to be with someone you love, the desire to end it all, the desire to have it all, all these desires that drive us, mould us, tear us apart and make us beautiful all at once, all these emotions and motions, all this...life!
try it, just zoom in to one person right now, anyone, and then imagine everything you can to the finest details about this person's life. i used to do that and still do sometimes. i'd be sitting in the bus, looking out of the window, and my eyes would zoom in onto the elderly man on his bicycle at the side of the road or the construction worker sitting at the back of a lorry. i'd start imagining what they were like as kids together with all the innocence and brutality of being a kid, the aches in their hearts as they remembered home and wives and girlfriends and lovers-who-never-were and their favourite food and their daily rituals, the pangs of loneliness that just couldn't be shaken off, did they lose someone they love? was this the life they imagined they would one day live? and the dreams they carried in their hearts, are they still pounding against their chests or have they been set free?
and it's funny because i realise now that the more i turn my eyes onto myself, the less i am aware that i am alive and have a mission and dreams. yet, the more i look at the world and the more i am a witness to the lives of others, the more i find this sense of hope and awe, and with that, the awareness that i am, indeed, more alive than ever and have a mission and purpose here.
do you dare do you dare do i dare?
"where are the beachside cafes?" we ask.
"i'm going towards them. you can walk with me," she says, with a welcoming smile and a soft, gentle voice. she interviews us and says, "welcome to australia," when she finds out we're not locals and were here for world youth day.
"coming home from work?" i ask, noticing her bag and the time of day.
"oh, no no. i was playing bingo with the other old ladies. we play bingo every monday. but my feet were sore and i decided to go for a walk." after which, she starts explaining bingo to us.
as we reach the first cafe, she bids us the kind of goodbye which you say to someone you've known for some time and you're seeing off at an airport or something and walks into the st vincent de paul store for a little afternoon shopping.
we walk down to the beach and it is, whats-the-best-word...pleasant. some young guys are playing some sorta rugby, it's almost sunset, we muse about how nice it is that there is a gym facing the sea and how the locals' equivalent of playing basketball on concrete between concrete in singapore is playing soccer on the beach surrounded by the waves and the majestic hues of the sunset sky every evening in cronulla.
and it's hard to imagine that just 2.5 years ago, racial riots occured here. and fast-forward to today, as i'm sitting in the car while we're on the way to dinner, i think about all this and my life and the lives of people i know while listening to the conversations going on around me about the strife and joys of other people. why do people do this? why do people tear at themselves and at each other when they have everything?
as the conversation in the car moves along, so do my thoughts. we're talking about the difficult yet necessary choices people have had to make. i breathe in deeper and my heart beats faster. will i ever dare to make those choices, at least one? a choice that will forever change the course of my life? while i was in sydney, we had a conversation about che guevera and the motorcycle diaries. his initial path was to be a doctor and a roadtrip changed his life forever. but the crucial step was allowing that change to take place. i know i've yet to be so much more, and i have the most ominous and pressing feeling that it will mean that my life will be forever changed and that makes me want to just be, well, not much. but then, boom boom boom like fireworks in my heart, these dreams rise up from time to time and send electric shocks through me. at these times, i feel like my heart would just burst through me any second if i sit here any longer. then, i just let the moment pass me by, i let the dreams grow smaller, i shrink with them. will these dreams forever pound against my chest, waiting to take flight, waiting to be..something? waiting?
i was watching a movie on my laptop with earphones plugged in when i heard the low and loud rumble of the fighter planes probably preparing for national day. i run to the window and look for them in the sky. this is my second favourite part of national day (first being fireworks, of course). and as i gazed at those planes, i was washed over by an epiphany. it's like you were in one of those planes, soaring, where you should be. i don't want your dreams to forever pound against your chest either.
i think about all this now. the collective pain and joy of this world. i think of how even the forgotten and the unlikely ones would each have their moments of glory and tragedy and romance and heartbreak and everything in between, how each one of us could have an epic movie made after us. and my gosh, it hits me that this world is so alive! all these desires, whether it is the desire to be with someone you love, the desire to end it all, the desire to have it all, all these desires that drive us, mould us, tear us apart and make us beautiful all at once, all these emotions and motions, all this...life!
try it, just zoom in to one person right now, anyone, and then imagine everything you can to the finest details about this person's life. i used to do that and still do sometimes. i'd be sitting in the bus, looking out of the window, and my eyes would zoom in onto the elderly man on his bicycle at the side of the road or the construction worker sitting at the back of a lorry. i'd start imagining what they were like as kids together with all the innocence and brutality of being a kid, the aches in their hearts as they remembered home and wives and girlfriends and lovers-who-never-were and their favourite food and their daily rituals, the pangs of loneliness that just couldn't be shaken off, did they lose someone they love? was this the life they imagined they would one day live? and the dreams they carried in their hearts, are they still pounding against their chests or have they been set free?
and it's funny because i realise now that the more i turn my eyes onto myself, the less i am aware that i am alive and have a mission and dreams. yet, the more i look at the world and the more i am a witness to the lives of others, the more i find this sense of hope and awe, and with that, the awareness that i am, indeed, more alive than ever and have a mission and purpose here.
do you dare do you dare do i dare?
Friday, July 04, 2008
friction
so just now i was watching "what would happen if.." on the national geographic channel and there was this segment called "brain in a box" or something where these three smart dudes were discussing for 10 minutes about the importance of FRICTION. so fast-forward here, fast-forward there, my eyes glazing over and there i am zoning out when, after talking about cars and motion and particles moving, they finally reach a conclusion:
wow, seriously, what a thing to say! according to the build-up of their conclusion, friction is the force which holds everything together, right down to the level of particles (hmmmmm). and how they ended up with "no friction = no life" will need alot more thinking , remembering (of my physics notes in days of yore) and research on my part to let that sink in. it's like comparing friction to oxygen, as though it were some sort of life force. or is it?
it got me thinking really. ideally, we'd all want smooth-sailing lives without inertia, without worry, without forces opposing our direct line of motion, the fulfilment of our dreams, etc. then, we have this bunch of guys coming in and saying that without friction, there can be no life and that friction is the force which holds everything together. so to even have a life which is ideal, there needs to be friction to even have life in the first place. BUT without friction, there can be no life, so there is no such thing as a life without friction in the physical universe because life cannot exist without friction??? something about "no friction = no life" somehow really fascinates me and i can't stop thinking about it.
i'm sorry to disappoint you but this post has no deep conclusion on my part. yet.
so just now i was watching "what would happen if.." on the national geographic channel and there was this segment called "brain in a box" or something where these three smart dudes were discussing for 10 minutes about the importance of FRICTION. so fast-forward here, fast-forward there, my eyes glazing over and there i am zoning out when, after talking about cars and motion and particles moving, they finally reach a conclusion:
NO FRICTION = NO LIFE
wow, seriously, what a thing to say! according to the build-up of their conclusion, friction is the force which holds everything together, right down to the level of particles (hmmmmm). and how they ended up with "no friction = no life" will need alot more thinking , remembering (of my physics notes in days of yore) and research on my part to let that sink in. it's like comparing friction to oxygen, as though it were some sort of life force. or is it?
it got me thinking really. ideally, we'd all want smooth-sailing lives without inertia, without worry, without forces opposing our direct line of motion, the fulfilment of our dreams, etc. then, we have this bunch of guys coming in and saying that without friction, there can be no life and that friction is the force which holds everything together. so to even have a life which is ideal, there needs to be friction to even have life in the first place. BUT without friction, there can be no life, so there is no such thing as a life without friction in the physical universe because life cannot exist without friction??? something about "no friction = no life" somehow really fascinates me and i can't stop thinking about it.
i'm sorry to disappoint you but this post has no deep conclusion on my part. yet.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
this tiny heart, all neatly wrapped up and packaged in a confused haze. those hot tears have cooled; a thin layer of frost remains. and i know you still beat in your bruised state, i felt you resonate with the sunset. i know that given half the chance, you would burst right through me, your rays stretching to the horizons, even if just for a second. speak to me, oh my heart. what is god whispering to you in the stillness? what am i hearing but not listening to? what am i looking at but not seeing?
Thursday, May 08, 2008
the perfect remedy
as cheryl (probably heaven's salesgirl of the year) shared about how she shared her secret remedy to a woman whose husband was was in the pits of depression, going from doctor to doctor, trying to find something that would remove that heavy piece of stone from his heart, i couldn't help but feel inspired to try that remedy myself. it was a remedy i had once faithfully gone back to over and over again before disillusionment and cynicism drove me to dump it aside together with my bible for later use and occasional tuesday nights.
it's probably no longer a secret that i've been depressed for the longest time. where i once used to carry this heavy sadness in my heart, i now even wear it. it's not hard to tell really. the lack of energy and drive to do things, the tired eyes and old demeanor even though i've only just turned 23, the anti-social behavior, the short temper and excess of emotions, the resistance to forgive and let go, to hold on to every single grievance caused to me and remember it for dear life...what a load to carry around, no wonder this heart is so tired, no wonder death sometimes seems like such a welcome respite.
tonight was no different from the past few nights for the past few weeks. the usual upsets, the usual loneliness, the usual desire to want to curl up on my bed and cry to nobody. but then i thought about cheryl and how in the deepest darkest crevices of loneliness and pain she can find the grace to pray and pray and pray, how she can find it in her to love me and all the people around her, not just friends or family but complete strangers. and i felt inspired to pick up that remedy from that dusty shelf once more.
i can't begin to describe how beautiful it was. as i sat there and quietened myself, being mindful that i was tuning myself into god's frequency, i started to feel calmer and allowed myself to be vulnerable to god. even now as i close my eyes from time to time to recall that experience, a wave of calm washes over me. it makes me feel thankful for my humanity and the experience and purification of faith and love through it. the encountering of jesus through the depths of my human pain and the amazing love that greets me and transforms me.
at that point, i was struggling with anxiety and unforgiveness, my body felt bruised and battered because i was just so tired and anxious and sad. i now know that being old is not having lived a certain number of years or walking slower than before. being old is really being weighed down with disillusionment, unforgiveness, cynicism and sloth, to name a few. i picked up henri nouwen's "inner voice of love" which cheryl gave to me and read a chapter which spoke about the two selves, the one you left behind because you were fearful and the one you became to appear formidable and how while you long for your old, intimate self, you push it away just so you'd survive. but you were only surviving without living. that's really how i feel these days. from wanting to be "jesus" to everyone, i got tired of being trampled on and took on the opposite form, shooting my mouth as soon as i was hurt, harbouring unforgiveness like a sacred treasure and doing pretty much whatever the hell i wanted. i was rebelling with a vengeance. henri nouwen wasn't far off when he penned down this reflection. he noted how that little, fearful self shouldn't be forgotten and pushed away but be made to become part of us again and that if we only allow ourselves to live with it, how much we would learn, how we would find that jesus is dwelling in that weak, fearful, human self. with all these thoughts forming in my mind, i picked up my journal which i had neglected for almost a year and instead of penning things down, i started flipping through, and i was deeply awed. i had experience those same emotions, those same thoughts then, and through those writings and my little tete-a-tetes with god, i realised how much that old, fearful self had so much to teach my now "formidable" self, how you really are your closest and most intimate friend. i was tearing when i read about the sufferings of shireen then and how i wish i could have warned her, pulled her out of it but as i read on, i was more amazed by her faith, her eagerness to forgive, to obey and to love. and i was inspired once more.
prayer is a beautiful thing. through that little prayer time just now, i found myself transforming from a person of bitterness and anxiety to one of love and forgiveness. i found myself being able to separate myself from experiences and hurt and to forgive and love those who would not understand or love me the way i wanted them to. i found myself wanting to not only pray for myself but for others. each time i worried about the reactions of others at my attempts to make peace and forgive, thinking, what if they reject me or think me a fool, i was reminded that my inclination to forgive was really between me and jesus and not because of the person in question. his/her willingness to forgive would be between him/her and jesus too. so instead, i thanked jesus for the grace to forgive.
it was indeed a beautiful time of prayer as i just allowed myself to be still, to converse with god and to write as i once used to. i recalled the words of cheryl when i told her about how i marvelled that she was always praying. and she told me that she just felt that jesus had so much to tell her. and i'm smiling because i know jesus has so much to tell me too. i feel like i've found an old friend and it's great to be back again. i pray for the grace to be disciplined in sticking to this remedy. prayer really soothes the ailing heart like nothing else can. also, i actually feel my aches gone and i do feel lighter and a little stronger. i'm actually smiling! you gotta try it if you haven't!
p.s. thanks for that forgiveness "mail", papa.
as cheryl (probably heaven's salesgirl of the year) shared about how she shared her secret remedy to a woman whose husband was was in the pits of depression, going from doctor to doctor, trying to find something that would remove that heavy piece of stone from his heart, i couldn't help but feel inspired to try that remedy myself. it was a remedy i had once faithfully gone back to over and over again before disillusionment and cynicism drove me to dump it aside together with my bible for later use and occasional tuesday nights.
it's probably no longer a secret that i've been depressed for the longest time. where i once used to carry this heavy sadness in my heart, i now even wear it. it's not hard to tell really. the lack of energy and drive to do things, the tired eyes and old demeanor even though i've only just turned 23, the anti-social behavior, the short temper and excess of emotions, the resistance to forgive and let go, to hold on to every single grievance caused to me and remember it for dear life...what a load to carry around, no wonder this heart is so tired, no wonder death sometimes seems like such a welcome respite.
tonight was no different from the past few nights for the past few weeks. the usual upsets, the usual loneliness, the usual desire to want to curl up on my bed and cry to nobody. but then i thought about cheryl and how in the deepest darkest crevices of loneliness and pain she can find the grace to pray and pray and pray, how she can find it in her to love me and all the people around her, not just friends or family but complete strangers. and i felt inspired to pick up that remedy from that dusty shelf once more.
i can't begin to describe how beautiful it was. as i sat there and quietened myself, being mindful that i was tuning myself into god's frequency, i started to feel calmer and allowed myself to be vulnerable to god. even now as i close my eyes from time to time to recall that experience, a wave of calm washes over me. it makes me feel thankful for my humanity and the experience and purification of faith and love through it. the encountering of jesus through the depths of my human pain and the amazing love that greets me and transforms me.
at that point, i was struggling with anxiety and unforgiveness, my body felt bruised and battered because i was just so tired and anxious and sad. i now know that being old is not having lived a certain number of years or walking slower than before. being old is really being weighed down with disillusionment, unforgiveness, cynicism and sloth, to name a few. i picked up henri nouwen's "inner voice of love" which cheryl gave to me and read a chapter which spoke about the two selves, the one you left behind because you were fearful and the one you became to appear formidable and how while you long for your old, intimate self, you push it away just so you'd survive. but you were only surviving without living. that's really how i feel these days. from wanting to be "jesus" to everyone, i got tired of being trampled on and took on the opposite form, shooting my mouth as soon as i was hurt, harbouring unforgiveness like a sacred treasure and doing pretty much whatever the hell i wanted. i was rebelling with a vengeance. henri nouwen wasn't far off when he penned down this reflection. he noted how that little, fearful self shouldn't be forgotten and pushed away but be made to become part of us again and that if we only allow ourselves to live with it, how much we would learn, how we would find that jesus is dwelling in that weak, fearful, human self. with all these thoughts forming in my mind, i picked up my journal which i had neglected for almost a year and instead of penning things down, i started flipping through, and i was deeply awed. i had experience those same emotions, those same thoughts then, and through those writings and my little tete-a-tetes with god, i realised how much that old, fearful self had so much to teach my now "formidable" self, how you really are your closest and most intimate friend. i was tearing when i read about the sufferings of shireen then and how i wish i could have warned her, pulled her out of it but as i read on, i was more amazed by her faith, her eagerness to forgive, to obey and to love. and i was inspired once more.
prayer is a beautiful thing. through that little prayer time just now, i found myself transforming from a person of bitterness and anxiety to one of love and forgiveness. i found myself being able to separate myself from experiences and hurt and to forgive and love those who would not understand or love me the way i wanted them to. i found myself wanting to not only pray for myself but for others. each time i worried about the reactions of others at my attempts to make peace and forgive, thinking, what if they reject me or think me a fool, i was reminded that my inclination to forgive was really between me and jesus and not because of the person in question. his/her willingness to forgive would be between him/her and jesus too. so instead, i thanked jesus for the grace to forgive.
it was indeed a beautiful time of prayer as i just allowed myself to be still, to converse with god and to write as i once used to. i recalled the words of cheryl when i told her about how i marvelled that she was always praying. and she told me that she just felt that jesus had so much to tell her. and i'm smiling because i know jesus has so much to tell me too. i feel like i've found an old friend and it's great to be back again. i pray for the grace to be disciplined in sticking to this remedy. prayer really soothes the ailing heart like nothing else can. also, i actually feel my aches gone and i do feel lighter and a little stronger. i'm actually smiling! you gotta try it if you haven't!
p.s. thanks for that forgiveness "mail", papa.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
the shrinking heart
sometimes, i get this feeling that my heart used to be really big...not just big but..huge! i feel this because i sometimes feel this gaping hole where love used to reside, like i'm becoming more of a shadow and less like light. i don't think it's hindsight bias, i think i used to generally love everything and everyone. it was just easy for me to and i couldn't, wouldn't have it any other way. jesus, to me, was the coolest guy. not just a fantasy, not just a myth, not just a historical figure or a far-fetched legend. fully divine but also FULLY HUMAN, he was my role model, the coolest hippie around who didn't just sing songs about making love not war while smoking weed in a corner nor having long discussions with family and friends bitching about everyone and everything while doing nothing about it. he went out there and loved the rejected and the ostracized, the freaks and the goons, the sinners and the forgotten, consoling where consolation was needed and putting right things that were wrong. every moment was a mission to love, to give and to grow. suffering was a means for love and faith to be purified and life itself was a prayer and communion with the divine.
that was what and who i aspired to be. life was beautiful no matter what and i was always thankful for what little or alot i had. black holes would come and go but i got out pretty fast, forgave pretty quick, loved like there was no tomorrow and was driven to live every moment like it might have been my last. i carried my hopes, my dreams, my resilience where i went, staying true to them. people said i was naive and used whatever other adult-words they could find to describe the ignorance and persistence of youth but i was undaunted, steadfast and resolved to live the life i dreamed.
then, bit by bit, this big heart, this bright mind, started shrinking like a helium balloon that had flown too high and too long. i don't know how it started or why but one day, i knew these had grown awfully small when i realised that i didn't care whether i lived or died anymore, whether i hurt myself and others or not. i decided others could live the "jesus dream" because i was too weak, too broken and too unworthy to do so anymore. yes, instead of the light, i was quickly becoming the shadow, sucked into the darkness and hollowness of my own existence. could i blame anybody? it didn't matter whether i could or not, i started lashing out at the world who didn't get me, didn't allow me to breathe. i lashed out at god many times, asking him why i was still here, night after night as i lay my head on my pillow, eyes wide open in the dark, anxious about how i would ever get through another night like this. i "recommended" to god the neatest, most hassle-free ways to cease my existence in this world so that i could just disappear and be gotten over with "just as i deserved". suicide was out of the question and will NEVER be an option so you could say i was just, waiting.
i broke down many times, losing control of my emotions and impulses, easily triggered by attacks which i perceived, were to my self-worth. i felt really alone, not being understood by the people whom i really wish would understand instead of judging me so quickly. i hurt myself and others immensely. i felt i was such a "gone-case" that...so what? so what about world hunger or marginalisation or poverty? i couldn't even help myself. that's how absorbed i became, how small and shrunken this existence spiralled towards being.
what's happening? why? i can't really say. i type in past tense above but in reality, it's an ongoing battle i face. maybe i'm crazy for feeling those things, maybe i'm crazy for splashing these feelings across this page...but don't tell me i'm the only one. i know that there are many out there who have ("had" is merely an illusion) so much to give and who yearn to live and love big but now, only mourn for the death of their hearts. life for them, for us, sometimes is this big black question mark which sucks you in deeper and the more you struggle, the more you sink, like quick sand.
then there are people like lydia gouardo who are what they are and say what they say and totally blow my mind, removing the "cataracts" from my eyes and giving me a good shake-up , like being thrown into a pool of icy water first thing in the morning. my heart blooms again in these moments and becomes filled with hope and dreams once more. and the cycle repeats, wilting heart, blossoming heart, wilting heart, blossoming heart, only with greater intensity each time.
this video below speaks volumes and says very concisely and strikingly what all these paragraphs are trying to decode about the state of my heart. the important thing is, i'm still alive. and while i'm alive, i still have a shot. you do, too!
(p.s. stop the music at the right-hand side before playing the video, unless you want to create some kinda funky remix version of either song)
sometimes, i get this feeling that my heart used to be really big...not just big but..huge! i feel this because i sometimes feel this gaping hole where love used to reside, like i'm becoming more of a shadow and less like light. i don't think it's hindsight bias, i think i used to generally love everything and everyone. it was just easy for me to and i couldn't, wouldn't have it any other way. jesus, to me, was the coolest guy. not just a fantasy, not just a myth, not just a historical figure or a far-fetched legend. fully divine but also FULLY HUMAN, he was my role model, the coolest hippie around who didn't just sing songs about making love not war while smoking weed in a corner nor having long discussions with family and friends bitching about everyone and everything while doing nothing about it. he went out there and loved the rejected and the ostracized, the freaks and the goons, the sinners and the forgotten, consoling where consolation was needed and putting right things that were wrong. every moment was a mission to love, to give and to grow. suffering was a means for love and faith to be purified and life itself was a prayer and communion with the divine.
that was what and who i aspired to be. life was beautiful no matter what and i was always thankful for what little or alot i had. black holes would come and go but i got out pretty fast, forgave pretty quick, loved like there was no tomorrow and was driven to live every moment like it might have been my last. i carried my hopes, my dreams, my resilience where i went, staying true to them. people said i was naive and used whatever other adult-words they could find to describe the ignorance and persistence of youth but i was undaunted, steadfast and resolved to live the life i dreamed.
then, bit by bit, this big heart, this bright mind, started shrinking like a helium balloon that had flown too high and too long. i don't know how it started or why but one day, i knew these had grown awfully small when i realised that i didn't care whether i lived or died anymore, whether i hurt myself and others or not. i decided others could live the "jesus dream" because i was too weak, too broken and too unworthy to do so anymore. yes, instead of the light, i was quickly becoming the shadow, sucked into the darkness and hollowness of my own existence. could i blame anybody? it didn't matter whether i could or not, i started lashing out at the world who didn't get me, didn't allow me to breathe. i lashed out at god many times, asking him why i was still here, night after night as i lay my head on my pillow, eyes wide open in the dark, anxious about how i would ever get through another night like this. i "recommended" to god the neatest, most hassle-free ways to cease my existence in this world so that i could just disappear and be gotten over with "just as i deserved". suicide was out of the question and will NEVER be an option so you could say i was just, waiting.
i broke down many times, losing control of my emotions and impulses, easily triggered by attacks which i perceived, were to my self-worth. i felt really alone, not being understood by the people whom i really wish would understand instead of judging me so quickly. i hurt myself and others immensely. i felt i was such a "gone-case" that...so what? so what about world hunger or marginalisation or poverty? i couldn't even help myself. that's how absorbed i became, how small and shrunken this existence spiralled towards being.
what's happening? why? i can't really say. i type in past tense above but in reality, it's an ongoing battle i face. maybe i'm crazy for feeling those things, maybe i'm crazy for splashing these feelings across this page...but don't tell me i'm the only one. i know that there are many out there who have ("had" is merely an illusion) so much to give and who yearn to live and love big but now, only mourn for the death of their hearts. life for them, for us, sometimes is this big black question mark which sucks you in deeper and the more you struggle, the more you sink, like quick sand.
then there are people like lydia gouardo who are what they are and say what they say and totally blow my mind, removing the "cataracts" from my eyes and giving me a good shake-up , like being thrown into a pool of icy water first thing in the morning. my heart blooms again in these moments and becomes filled with hope and dreams once more. and the cycle repeats, wilting heart, blossoming heart, wilting heart, blossoming heart, only with greater intensity each time.
this video below speaks volumes and says very concisely and strikingly what all these paragraphs are trying to decode about the state of my heart. the important thing is, i'm still alive. and while i'm alive, i still have a shot. you do, too!
(p.s. stop the music at the right-hand side before playing the video, unless you want to create some kinda funky remix version of either song)
mama, harold and kumar
i swear my eyes are gonna pop out from playing this crazy "who has the biggest brain" game on facebook. i can feel it. i'm slowly turning into a zombie, with my eyes all spaced-out, staring in one direction, transfixed and relentless! so much for school being out, i'm drowing myself in math and memory tests!
watching harold and kumar with mama was so much fun! how it all started was hilarious. we were sitting side by side getting our pedicures done on thursday when i told her i was arranging with some of the msc dudes to watch harold and kumar the next day to which she replied, like a needy teenage girlfriend (yes, my mom), "i also want to watch!!!", complete with furrowed brows and pout. she had gotten the idea that it was going to be one of those chevy chase national lampoon kinda movies, don't ask me why. pravin and jeevan had come back with raving reviews about it and she decided this was a show she couldn't pass up on. now, any kid would say no to watching such shows with his or her mom, riiiiight?
wrong! before i found out (after the movie was over) that she thought it was a national lampoon knock-off, i genuinely thought that my mom was starting to become more adventurous. i mean, she seemed to be living out her second teenagehood these few days, sometimes to the point where i'd feel i was more like the mother and she, the daughter. it got me really curious as to how my mom would react to such a show and i immediately said yes! and she told me just now before leaving work, she was actually boasting to her colleagues that she was going to watch "harold and kumar!"
so we just watched the show a few hours ago and it was so incredibly fun watching with her! she was actually laughing hysterically. at some scenes though, she would go, "you mean jeevan (my youngest bro turning 18 in a few days time) watched this?? how can jeevan watch this??" of course, she came out shaking her head but i'm sure she secretly enjoyed it and i told her so.
i have more things to say. but i'm going to put it in the next post, right after this one! now!
p.s. i actually thought the "square root of three'' poem was pretty smart. i loved it! here it is! don't read on if you want to preserve the surprise factor!
i swear my eyes are gonna pop out from playing this crazy "who has the biggest brain" game on facebook. i can feel it. i'm slowly turning into a zombie, with my eyes all spaced-out, staring in one direction, transfixed and relentless! so much for school being out, i'm drowing myself in math and memory tests!
watching harold and kumar with mama was so much fun! how it all started was hilarious. we were sitting side by side getting our pedicures done on thursday when i told her i was arranging with some of the msc dudes to watch harold and kumar the next day to which she replied, like a needy teenage girlfriend (yes, my mom), "i also want to watch!!!", complete with furrowed brows and pout. she had gotten the idea that it was going to be one of those chevy chase national lampoon kinda movies, don't ask me why. pravin and jeevan had come back with raving reviews about it and she decided this was a show she couldn't pass up on. now, any kid would say no to watching such shows with his or her mom, riiiiight?
wrong! before i found out (after the movie was over) that she thought it was a national lampoon knock-off, i genuinely thought that my mom was starting to become more adventurous. i mean, she seemed to be living out her second teenagehood these few days, sometimes to the point where i'd feel i was more like the mother and she, the daughter. it got me really curious as to how my mom would react to such a show and i immediately said yes! and she told me just now before leaving work, she was actually boasting to her colleagues that she was going to watch "harold and kumar!"
so we just watched the show a few hours ago and it was so incredibly fun watching with her! she was actually laughing hysterically. at some scenes though, she would go, "you mean jeevan (my youngest bro turning 18 in a few days time) watched this?? how can jeevan watch this??" of course, she came out shaking her head but i'm sure she secretly enjoyed it and i told her so.
i have more things to say. but i'm going to put it in the next post, right after this one! now!
p.s. i actually thought the "square root of three'' poem was pretty smart. i loved it! here it is! don't read on if you want to preserve the surprise factor!
The Square Root of 3 by Dave Feinberg
I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed
I’m sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that’s good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
i gotta get me one of those!
Messerschmitt KR201 1958
great family car, huh? like the jetsons in the 1950s.
Inter 175A Microcar
Messerschmitt KR201 1958
great family car, huh? like the jetsons in the 1950s.Inter 175A Microcar
i adore this. like driving a mini boat on land. it's so tiny that with one little headlight at the front, this car could probably be mistaken for a torch light.1956 Avolette Record De Luxe
is it me or does this car just make you happy?1958 Goggomobil Transporter
(you have to check out the other automobiles at this site!!)
if all police cars looked like this, criminals would be on-the run...towards them instead.Honda Puyo
click the link and read about it! it's really funny. trust the japanese! =)
swooooooooooon!!!and yes, they're real cars.
these eyes
so there are actually other people who see this static. it's called "visual snow". i only see it in the dark but according to that website, there are people who see it all the time. i do sometimes experience those increased afterimages or trails though. they seem to float up and down for a while, longer than they should according to what i read about persistence of vision and the sensory memory in my cognitive psych text. i find these trails quite fascinating. and do you sometimes see a black spot that seems to be in the centre of vision wherever you look? i do and it seems like i'm not alone.
and you know what's funny? i made a disclaimer in the post below that i wasn't on lsd. the visual snow website indicates that phenomena associated with visual snow also occurs in people who are on certain drugs, including lsd. =O
in other news, i'm sure by now you must have heard or read about the austrian man who locked his daughter up in a hidden cellar in his house and fathered seven children with her? in the papers today, lydia gouardo, a french woman, describes how she suffered a similar ordeal for 28 years, but what blows my mind is what she says at the end of that article and i am immediately ashamed of myself for not wanting to wake up in the morning sometimes, for wishing death or wasting my life away in despair.
so there are actually other people who see this static. it's called "visual snow". i only see it in the dark but according to that website, there are people who see it all the time. i do sometimes experience those increased afterimages or trails though. they seem to float up and down for a while, longer than they should according to what i read about persistence of vision and the sensory memory in my cognitive psych text. i find these trails quite fascinating. and do you sometimes see a black spot that seems to be in the centre of vision wherever you look? i do and it seems like i'm not alone.
and you know what's funny? i made a disclaimer in the post below that i wasn't on lsd. the visual snow website indicates that phenomena associated with visual snow also occurs in people who are on certain drugs, including lsd. =O
in other news, i'm sure by now you must have heard or read about the austrian man who locked his daughter up in a hidden cellar in his house and fathered seven children with her? in the papers today, lydia gouardo, a french woman, describes how she suffered a similar ordeal for 28 years, but what blows my mind is what she says at the end of that article and i am immediately ashamed of myself for not wanting to wake up in the morning sometimes, for wishing death or wasting my life away in despair.
Barely literate, unemployed, she hides her burn scars under long-sleeved clothes - but says she is happy to have survived.what grace she must have to say such a thing. those such as her, they are our real-life everyday heroes.
"When I think of what I've been through, I wonder how it's possible. Every day when I open the front door, I take a deep breath.
"I live from day to day. But I love life. When people complain, I say life is beautiful," she told RTL.
"I am fighting back now. When a bill comes through the door, I am happy. I am here, I exist."
Monday, April 28, 2008
lying in bed with the lights off and the curtains open, i stare up at the ceiling, wondering whether if i try hard enough, i can see colours in the dark, whether i can see an invisible world parallel to the one i'm in. and for the first time i noticed that in the dark, everything looks like it is covered by static, infinite specks of black and white. amazed by this new discovery, my eyes dart around the room, from the walls to the cupboard to my blanket to the space in between everything and the "static" is still there. is this normal? do you see the same thing lying on your bed with the lights off and the curtains open, staring at your ceiling?
and no, i'm not on lsd or whatever. goodnight!
and no, i'm not on lsd or whatever. goodnight!