Dear blog,
I'm extremely sorry for such a late addition of post for my amusement.Truth to be told, I was lazy and was slacking off in writing that happened to be a strong passion that I've nurtured through out the years.
The lost of inspiration and the cavalier attitude that I am showing you greatly pains me every time when i was stalking others' blogs.Not for today, I'm afraid.
Dear blog,
It's been almost 11 months since I've actually picked up the need to blog and to tell little stories about the latest happenings around me.It seems ironic that it took me so many months to realize that the suffocating schedules that I faced, the mentally tormenting exams that I took is no reason to be lazy or to be procrastinating.
Hibernation's over! I told myself as I picked up a new book from the library shelf. i realized how stupid I was to let my passion for writing to subside, with ebbing determination cloaked by unnecessary self depreciation.
Never again should I be lazy to blog.
Never again should I have nothing to share.
Never again should I forget that:
there's a little place in the internet that I can call as my little garden of inspiration.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Give it up, people!
Dear blog,
I believe it’s been a while since I’ve actually started to indulge myself in the joy of writing a blog. Yes, it’s been a while. Frankly, I thought I have lost it when it comes to penning down my thoughts and idea and later convert these observations of mine into understandable words for laymen like me. Just when I was quite agitated by the fact that I have practically nothing to say, something that happened prompted me into typing it down.
Dear blog,
What I am going to tell you later might not struck you as something noteworthy and worthwhile; yet, I feel that that incident that I saw with my very own eyes ought to be expressed using my words, through my way of saying it.
Dear blog,
It all started when I was on the way to KL Central from Imbi via the monorail. I wasn’t travelling alone since my father who happened to have plans of his one visited me during a very hot Saturday morning. Crowded, crammed and shaky would be the words found fitting to describe our local public transport and the same situation is unfortunately pervasive everywhere in KL. The term “a can of sardines” is somewhat a cliché expression that might be apt to describe the condition of the monorail my father and I boarded. In fact, I felt the law of motion is at work when I felt my pushed into the compartment by the force exerted by restless passengers behind me. I could barely feel my hands that were squeezed by passengers who were trying to make their way into the nearly full compartment.
It was then that I stand witness to something that struck as an anomaly in the increasingly inhuman life of fellow city dwellers. A young man, presumably in his early twenties(give or take a couple of years), with a medium sized bag positioned on his lap, tried to get up from his seat and made polite gestures instructing my father to take! With a delightful expression that I knew so well since I was a child, my father just shook his head and smiled at the young man. Understood the polite gesture addressed to him, the young man retreated back into his seat and resuming the vacant look that he had before.
When I jokingly asked my father about his refusal to sit at a seat offered to him, my father just said:
“It’s very rare to see a young fellow giving up his seat for an old geezer like me. I’m happy at the thought and decided not to take it because the young man definitely deserves it!” my father chuckled and continued to joke about his grey hairs and old age diseases.
Frankly, I found the experience strikingly odd for a normal Malaysian, to be specific, Malaysian youth like me to give up my seat to a complete stranger. I might be exaggerating here, but when was the last time you’ve ever give up your seat for anyone other than your families and friends?
“Give your seats to those who really need it such as pregnant ladies, senior citizens, physically challenged people, children when you are taking the public transport”
Dear blog,
Those few words above are constantly displayed inside compartments of trains, monorails and even public buses .However, the question lies in how deeply imbued was the notion within the hearts of youths like me?
When we see an old man standing inside a small but crowded bus, do we really spontaneously ask the man to sit on our place?
Or is it that we hesitate for a while, thinking about the ramification of such random thought of kindness?
Or we observe the condition of the old man before any immediate actions are instructed by the piece of muscle that we proudly refer to as the brain?
Or is it that we assist the old man with a faint motive of being acknowledged by the people around us?
Or worse still, we cast our glance at the ordinary scenery outside with feigned indifference created from the temporary indulgence of the comfort we achieved?
Dear blog,
There are times when I feel that the world is a very cold place to stay in. Even the harshest winter in the Scandinavian islands is not to be compared with the increasingly indifferent mask that we put on every single moment of our lives. We prefer to sit and fall asleep in the train until we reach our destination than to stand quietly for almost 20 minutes with a minor cramp in the leg. Yes, we hesitate when it comes to surrendering our comfort zones. The absence of pleasure and excitement deter us from embracing the idealism of compassionate living.
Nevertheless, don’t you feel that you might want the same kind treatment one day?
I believe it’s been a while since I’ve actually started to indulge myself in the joy of writing a blog. Yes, it’s been a while. Frankly, I thought I have lost it when it comes to penning down my thoughts and idea and later convert these observations of mine into understandable words for laymen like me. Just when I was quite agitated by the fact that I have practically nothing to say, something that happened prompted me into typing it down.
Dear blog,
What I am going to tell you later might not struck you as something noteworthy and worthwhile; yet, I feel that that incident that I saw with my very own eyes ought to be expressed using my words, through my way of saying it.
Dear blog,
It all started when I was on the way to KL Central from Imbi via the monorail. I wasn’t travelling alone since my father who happened to have plans of his one visited me during a very hot Saturday morning. Crowded, crammed and shaky would be the words found fitting to describe our local public transport and the same situation is unfortunately pervasive everywhere in KL. The term “a can of sardines” is somewhat a cliché expression that might be apt to describe the condition of the monorail my father and I boarded. In fact, I felt the law of motion is at work when I felt my pushed into the compartment by the force exerted by restless passengers behind me. I could barely feel my hands that were squeezed by passengers who were trying to make their way into the nearly full compartment.
It was then that I stand witness to something that struck as an anomaly in the increasingly inhuman life of fellow city dwellers. A young man, presumably in his early twenties(give or take a couple of years), with a medium sized bag positioned on his lap, tried to get up from his seat and made polite gestures instructing my father to take! With a delightful expression that I knew so well since I was a child, my father just shook his head and smiled at the young man. Understood the polite gesture addressed to him, the young man retreated back into his seat and resuming the vacant look that he had before.
When I jokingly asked my father about his refusal to sit at a seat offered to him, my father just said:
“It’s very rare to see a young fellow giving up his seat for an old geezer like me. I’m happy at the thought and decided not to take it because the young man definitely deserves it!” my father chuckled and continued to joke about his grey hairs and old age diseases.
Frankly, I found the experience strikingly odd for a normal Malaysian, to be specific, Malaysian youth like me to give up my seat to a complete stranger. I might be exaggerating here, but when was the last time you’ve ever give up your seat for anyone other than your families and friends?
“Give your seats to those who really need it such as pregnant ladies, senior citizens, physically challenged people, children when you are taking the public transport”
Dear blog,
Those few words above are constantly displayed inside compartments of trains, monorails and even public buses .However, the question lies in how deeply imbued was the notion within the hearts of youths like me?
When we see an old man standing inside a small but crowded bus, do we really spontaneously ask the man to sit on our place?
Or is it that we hesitate for a while, thinking about the ramification of such random thought of kindness?
Or we observe the condition of the old man before any immediate actions are instructed by the piece of muscle that we proudly refer to as the brain?
Or is it that we assist the old man with a faint motive of being acknowledged by the people around us?
Or worse still, we cast our glance at the ordinary scenery outside with feigned indifference created from the temporary indulgence of the comfort we achieved?
Dear blog,
There are times when I feel that the world is a very cold place to stay in. Even the harshest winter in the Scandinavian islands is not to be compared with the increasingly indifferent mask that we put on every single moment of our lives. We prefer to sit and fall asleep in the train until we reach our destination than to stand quietly for almost 20 minutes with a minor cramp in the leg. Yes, we hesitate when it comes to surrendering our comfort zones. The absence of pleasure and excitement deter us from embracing the idealism of compassionate living.
Nevertheless, don’t you feel that you might want the same kind treatment one day?
Monday, June 2, 2008
The day when everything went wrong
Dear blog,
Have you ever been in this situation whereby you are hoping so hard for an auspicious day to light up your rather boring, repetitious lifestyle? And have you ever experience that after that wish of your, something unpleasant just sneak behind you. Leaving you speechless and vulnerable?
Well, frankly, the past 24 hours can be regarded as one of the most dramatically worst day of my summer. I rarely mention about things happening around me but I think this should be an exception since I’m up to the mood to do so.
After spending almost 3 enjoyable days in the laps of my warm cozy house, I reluctantly dragged my heavy luggage and bags full with local delicacies to the bus station, waiting for my trip back to yet another hectic college life. It was night and the station was swarming with young people like me who were not so eager to abandon the sweet embrace of relaxation and laziness offered in our houses.I had my bus ticket placed neatly in my wallet and I was talking to my father about the latest happenings in my college.
As we were talking, an elderly woman with a lot of bags placed them near to my enourmously looking luggage.Then, she began to removed the worn out batik cloth that was wrapped around her neck and absentmindedly threw it on top of mine luggage.Later, a few children, presumably her grandchildren started to cover my luggage with the jackets that they took off. Initially, I did not pay much attention to the actions of the lady and her family.I was wrong. Before I knew it, her grandchildren put their bags right on top of the jackets and batik cloth.
I simply can’t take it anymore, I made a mental note myself. Therefore, I politely asked the lady to remove the bags and the jackets and the worn out cloth from my luggage.The lady looked at me with such a quizzical look that suggest her surprise at my polite demand.
“What are you talking about?” she replied in rather defensive tone.
“Could you kindly remove all of these from the bag?” I repeated my demand.
“ But there’s mine. You have no right to ask me to remove it!” The lady sneered.
“ Of course, I’m aware of that. But the bag is mine!” I said sarcastically without ever removing the malicious grin I sketched on my face.
Embarassed, the lady left without such expression that indicate her irritation at being corrected and losing her pride in front of the children who were rather puzzled by grandma’s sudden decision to move to another place of waiting. Perhaps it was karma, I soon received my punishment.
I looked at my watch and it was 9.15pm.WHAT?!!~It can’t be. My bus is supposed to arrive at 9.00pm as stated in the ticket. Wait a minute, my hawk-like eyes suddenly managed to catch sight of something disturbing about my journey back. It was the wrong ticket! I’ve bought the wrong ticket without ever being bothered to examine carefully every last bit of the details printed on my ticket. I cursed my carelessness in not checking the destination of my supposed destination. Instead of the normal KT-SA ticket, I accidentally bought the SA-KT ticket. A ticket wasted and my journey back impeded. I searched through every single ticket counters there were and was rather relieved to hear that there’s one more available ticket back and I painfully fish for money inside my wallet, thinking of the number of meals that I could buy with it.
My “bad luck”(is I would say so myself), did not end there. A few hours after the bus started its journey, I was shocked to know that it broke down in the middle of no where, surrounded only the spooky atmosphere of the palm plantation. The engine malfunctioned and the air conditioning was stopped. There was no sign of human residence nearby and the screeching of cicadas was the only sound that I could hear apart from the occasional murmuring of complaints by the other passages who can barely sleep with shirts soaked wet with sweat. To make matters worse, the bus stopped there for almost 3 hours (with a heavy downpour at the second hour)!
Dear blog,
So what did I learn from the series of event that I had experienced for the past 24 hours?
I learn that I need to be more careful next time.
I learn that life is not easy.
I learn that bad luck can occur anytime, any place due to human mistake and natural mishap.
But most importantly, I won’t be using the service offered by the same bus company, never again!
Have you ever been in this situation whereby you are hoping so hard for an auspicious day to light up your rather boring, repetitious lifestyle? And have you ever experience that after that wish of your, something unpleasant just sneak behind you. Leaving you speechless and vulnerable?
Well, frankly, the past 24 hours can be regarded as one of the most dramatically worst day of my summer. I rarely mention about things happening around me but I think this should be an exception since I’m up to the mood to do so.
After spending almost 3 enjoyable days in the laps of my warm cozy house, I reluctantly dragged my heavy luggage and bags full with local delicacies to the bus station, waiting for my trip back to yet another hectic college life. It was night and the station was swarming with young people like me who were not so eager to abandon the sweet embrace of relaxation and laziness offered in our houses.I had my bus ticket placed neatly in my wallet and I was talking to my father about the latest happenings in my college.
As we were talking, an elderly woman with a lot of bags placed them near to my enourmously looking luggage.Then, she began to removed the worn out batik cloth that was wrapped around her neck and absentmindedly threw it on top of mine luggage.Later, a few children, presumably her grandchildren started to cover my luggage with the jackets that they took off. Initially, I did not pay much attention to the actions of the lady and her family.I was wrong. Before I knew it, her grandchildren put their bags right on top of the jackets and batik cloth.
I simply can’t take it anymore, I made a mental note myself. Therefore, I politely asked the lady to remove the bags and the jackets and the worn out cloth from my luggage.The lady looked at me with such a quizzical look that suggest her surprise at my polite demand.
“What are you talking about?” she replied in rather defensive tone.
“Could you kindly remove all of these from the bag?” I repeated my demand.
“ But there’s mine. You have no right to ask me to remove it!” The lady sneered.
“ Of course, I’m aware of that. But the bag is mine!” I said sarcastically without ever removing the malicious grin I sketched on my face.
Embarassed, the lady left without such expression that indicate her irritation at being corrected and losing her pride in front of the children who were rather puzzled by grandma’s sudden decision to move to another place of waiting. Perhaps it was karma, I soon received my punishment.
I looked at my watch and it was 9.15pm.WHAT?!!~It can’t be. My bus is supposed to arrive at 9.00pm as stated in the ticket. Wait a minute, my hawk-like eyes suddenly managed to catch sight of something disturbing about my journey back. It was the wrong ticket! I’ve bought the wrong ticket without ever being bothered to examine carefully every last bit of the details printed on my ticket. I cursed my carelessness in not checking the destination of my supposed destination. Instead of the normal KT-SA ticket, I accidentally bought the SA-KT ticket. A ticket wasted and my journey back impeded. I searched through every single ticket counters there were and was rather relieved to hear that there’s one more available ticket back and I painfully fish for money inside my wallet, thinking of the number of meals that I could buy with it.
My “bad luck”(is I would say so myself), did not end there. A few hours after the bus started its journey, I was shocked to know that it broke down in the middle of no where, surrounded only the spooky atmosphere of the palm plantation. The engine malfunctioned and the air conditioning was stopped. There was no sign of human residence nearby and the screeching of cicadas was the only sound that I could hear apart from the occasional murmuring of complaints by the other passages who can barely sleep with shirts soaked wet with sweat. To make matters worse, the bus stopped there for almost 3 hours (with a heavy downpour at the second hour)!
Dear blog,
So what did I learn from the series of event that I had experienced for the past 24 hours?
I learn that I need to be more careful next time.
I learn that life is not easy.
I learn that bad luck can occur anytime, any place due to human mistake and natural mishap.
But most importantly, I won’t be using the service offered by the same bus company, never again!
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Poem for my amusement
Dear blog,
It's been a very very long time since I've actually composed any poems that are worth the time an effort for me to recite.However, I do strongly believe that each human is born with the ability to think and to construct creative thinking from observations amde around us.Life itself is poetic and filled with emotions and based on that argument that i justify my temporary absence from the luxury of poetry bestowed by art and literature.
Dear blog,
This poem is dedicated to the victims of the Cyclone and survivors of the China earthquake that have featured themselves unknowingly to the attention of people across the globe.
Who is that man who came?
With scars around his weak, slim arm?
Blood adored his forehead,
mixed with sweat and tears dried up.
Who is that woman who came?
With face covered with mud?
Black hair ran wildly down her back,
fists cleched,
eyes wary.
Who is that child who came?
crying,
yelling,
throwing tantrums as hard as he can?
Shirt covered with blood
toys stained with soil.
Who is that leader who came?
feet swollen,
thinner than usual?
haggard than before?
barking at people,
people who turned away their heads unanimously at a cry
Suddenly, there was a cry
faintly,
but definitely a cry
underneath the shambles, rubbles of a once proud building.
It was a cry!
The man was cheering.
The woman was weeping.
The child continue crying.
It was a season of mourning and bitterness.
but the cry changed that
a cry for help
a cry for hope
a cry that broke the darkness
a cry that unites
a cry,
a cry,
a cry of a human that calls back everyone's compassion .
It's been a very very long time since I've actually composed any poems that are worth the time an effort for me to recite.However, I do strongly believe that each human is born with the ability to think and to construct creative thinking from observations amde around us.Life itself is poetic and filled with emotions and based on that argument that i justify my temporary absence from the luxury of poetry bestowed by art and literature.
Dear blog,
This poem is dedicated to the victims of the Cyclone and survivors of the China earthquake that have featured themselves unknowingly to the attention of people across the globe.
Who is that man who came?
With scars around his weak, slim arm?
Blood adored his forehead,
mixed with sweat and tears dried up.
Who is that woman who came?
With face covered with mud?
Black hair ran wildly down her back,
fists cleched,
eyes wary.
Who is that child who came?
crying,
yelling,
throwing tantrums as hard as he can?
Shirt covered with blood
toys stained with soil.
Who is that leader who came?
feet swollen,
thinner than usual?
haggard than before?
barking at people,
people who turned away their heads unanimously at a cry
Suddenly, there was a cry
faintly,
but definitely a cry
underneath the shambles, rubbles of a once proud building.
It was a cry!
The man was cheering.
The woman was weeping.
The child continue crying.
It was a season of mourning and bitterness.
but the cry changed that
a cry for help
a cry for hope
a cry that broke the darkness
a cry that unites
a cry,
a cry,
a cry of a human that calls back everyone's compassion .
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Self-limitation
Dear blog,
What are your limits?
Would you walk across that line that separates you from the "capable" and the "not capable"?
Would you do anything just to change the depressing situation you are at?
Would you show resistance to change even if it means snapping your unused wings?
Would you be considered a freak for attempting the "impossible" in normal people's perspective?
Dare to be different for once?
The western civilization admires men who would take the plunge and have the guts to do things beyond their limitations.The eastern philosophies, on the hand, advocates that man should be more aware of his own capacity and be more submissive towards a greater power.
So tell me, which ideology is realistic in this modern world?
When we choose to ignore something that is always there haunting us with the sense of frustration and irritation, we expose ourselves to a unique state, whereby we are encouraged to make decisions to deal with the situation.
How do you do that? Realizing your self limitation!
Since, it is easier for us to pinpoint our self worth and limits, why is it still hard for us to make decision? As we all know, life is not simply a matter black and white.There's always this shady gray region that has kept itself so distinctly close and yet so mysteriously to our eyes.
When we are troubled by something such as financial crisis or academic worries, we start questioning ourselves. Whether we can do it? Whether the risk is worth it? Should we call quits when the moment is ripe? When we start stacking our minds with these questions, we are being placed within this gray area that serve as a temporary resting place before we head ourselves to the next destination.What destination? The areas beyond the gray region, the place where we put our capabilities to the test or we shirk away from deleterious elements that lurks in the unseen path ahead.
So what really influences our choice at the very end of our journey in life?
Our limits and our choice to push these limits further.
What are your limits?
Would you walk across that line that separates you from the "capable" and the "not capable"?
Would you do anything just to change the depressing situation you are at?
Would you show resistance to change even if it means snapping your unused wings?
Would you be considered a freak for attempting the "impossible" in normal people's perspective?
Dare to be different for once?
The western civilization admires men who would take the plunge and have the guts to do things beyond their limitations.The eastern philosophies, on the hand, advocates that man should be more aware of his own capacity and be more submissive towards a greater power.
So tell me, which ideology is realistic in this modern world?
When we choose to ignore something that is always there haunting us with the sense of frustration and irritation, we expose ourselves to a unique state, whereby we are encouraged to make decisions to deal with the situation.
How do you do that? Realizing your self limitation!
Since, it is easier for us to pinpoint our self worth and limits, why is it still hard for us to make decision? As we all know, life is not simply a matter black and white.There's always this shady gray region that has kept itself so distinctly close and yet so mysteriously to our eyes.
When we are troubled by something such as financial crisis or academic worries, we start questioning ourselves. Whether we can do it? Whether the risk is worth it? Should we call quits when the moment is ripe? When we start stacking our minds with these questions, we are being placed within this gray area that serve as a temporary resting place before we head ourselves to the next destination.What destination? The areas beyond the gray region, the place where we put our capabilities to the test or we shirk away from deleterious elements that lurks in the unseen path ahead.
So what really influences our choice at the very end of our journey in life?
Our limits and our choice to push these limits further.
Monday, March 17, 2008
My first day of turning 19
Dear blog, I have just celebrated my 19th Birthday.There was no fancy food or delicious cakes.
There was no big presents wrapped up nicely in expensive gift wrappers.
There was no boisterous screaming of excitement and binge drinking.
Everything was simple but enjoyable.My friends and I talked about the local happenings in Malaysia.We expressed different views on the political scene in our respective countries.We talked about donating blood.We gossiped.We laughed.We ate the food that we ordered from the menu while listening attentively at the discussions we had.
It was definitely memorable for me as I truly consider that should be the way for a person to celebrate his/her birthday.In our modern society, birthdays have become so commercialized that it gives me chills just to think of the overwhelming designs of gift wrappers and greeting cards found abundantly in stationary amd gift stores.We often heard of the notion that its the thoughts that really counts and gifts should not be valued according to their worth in the market.
Still, as hypocrite as I might sound, i do yearn for an expensive or an present chosen from the exquisite tastes of the giver.We all adore fancy gifts.We hope for big parties.We hope to hear people calling our names, wishing us a happy birthday.We enjoy being in the company of our family members and friends in celebrating this auspicious day in our life.Still, I do feel that company makes a whole lot of difference in defining one's birthday.
This year, my friends did not throw a big party for me.We did not go for the most expensive restaurant in town.Yet, I felt satisfied at being able to see the faces of people whom i met yaears ago, gathered at the restaurant despite the heavy raining.It shows that they care and I strongly believe that should be the way.
Birthdays ae the day that marks the continuation of life a step closer to the grave.My funeral might not be attended by a large crowd of people who would mourn for me and speak reverentially of my name, thinking of the deeds that i have committed in life.However, all of these does not matter.What matters most is that there's that special group of people who are there for me in my journey of life.
Thank you, my friends.
There was no big presents wrapped up nicely in expensive gift wrappers.
There was no boisterous screaming of excitement and binge drinking.
Everything was simple but enjoyable.My friends and I talked about the local happenings in Malaysia.We expressed different views on the political scene in our respective countries.We talked about donating blood.We gossiped.We laughed.We ate the food that we ordered from the menu while listening attentively at the discussions we had.
It was definitely memorable for me as I truly consider that should be the way for a person to celebrate his/her birthday.In our modern society, birthdays have become so commercialized that it gives me chills just to think of the overwhelming designs of gift wrappers and greeting cards found abundantly in stationary amd gift stores.We often heard of the notion that its the thoughts that really counts and gifts should not be valued according to their worth in the market.
Still, as hypocrite as I might sound, i do yearn for an expensive or an present chosen from the exquisite tastes of the giver.We all adore fancy gifts.We hope for big parties.We hope to hear people calling our names, wishing us a happy birthday.We enjoy being in the company of our family members and friends in celebrating this auspicious day in our life.Still, I do feel that company makes a whole lot of difference in defining one's birthday.
This year, my friends did not throw a big party for me.We did not go for the most expensive restaurant in town.Yet, I felt satisfied at being able to see the faces of people whom i met yaears ago, gathered at the restaurant despite the heavy raining.It shows that they care and I strongly believe that should be the way.
Birthdays ae the day that marks the continuation of life a step closer to the grave.My funeral might not be attended by a large crowd of people who would mourn for me and speak reverentially of my name, thinking of the deeds that i have committed in life.However, all of these does not matter.What matters most is that there's that special group of people who are there for me in my journey of life.
Thank you, my friends.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The meaning of hate
Dear blog,
What is hate to you?
What is the feeling of hate if you are granted emotions?
Honestly, I'm still searching for the answer.
For me, hate means a form of despair. Hate is a form of self-inflicted pain that cannot be described by words. Hate is a form of resentment. Hate is spite. Hate is jealousy. Hate is that feeling of pain when you see someone who have done you wrong. Hate is the feeling of yourself being engulfed by a sudden intense feeling that feeds on your rationality and character.
Dear blog,
I have always have this negative feeling about this particular person. I might put this negative energy as a form of hate.I hated the person from the bottom of my heart.I hated the way I was treated by him.I hated the way he smile at me.I hated the way our relationship have become. I never really like him and I feel that he too have a certain degree of resentment towards me. We despises each other and we are never shy in showing it.He was the bully and I was the victim.
The feeling of hatred existed between us. The feeling was very destructive. It was overwhelming. It consumed all my positive thoughts. It made me cursed my weakness. It made feel that I was worthless in life. It drives him to be more aggressive in treating and it drives me to hate him even deeper. I hated him. Hate was the only word that I can think of about the presence of this wretched fiend in my life. The seed of hatred was planted deep inside my heart, nourished by my inability to control my feelings and my hesitation in forgiveness.
We went our separate ways years ago and was reunited under the playful instruction of fate.Our reunion was short but it leaves a very deep mark in me.Just when I thought that I have loss the slightest respect for him, my facial muscles involuntarily moved and smiled at him.It happened so fast that I was unable to grasp the situation.It was as if all of the hatred and vindictive feelings that I had were vanquished by a sudden force.He nodded back and we went our separate ways again.
Was it forgiveness that I just gave him or it is merely a form of temporary truce?
Have all the hatred that I have cultivated in the abyss of my mind subdues?
For years, I have waited the time when I was strong enough to fight back with all of the suppressed feelings that festered in my heart. Clearly, I was amazed at how different I reacted during my last reunion with him. I hesitated in meeting with him and I am still confused of the sudden change that I have displayed during the encounter.
Perhaps it was because I have grown?
Perhaps all of the hate that I have for him has driven me to do better in life and to seek a chance to laugh back at him?
Perhaps my mind have evolved to such state that hate is no longer in me?
Perhaps it was an act of pride to my opponent? Patronizing him with my sudden act of forgiveness?
Perhaps it was a reflection of my state of happiness? Genuine happiness that was born out of the people I met and the experiences I gained?
Perhaps my wounds have healed a very long time ago without me ever noticing it?
Perhaps the hatred that I have was a indication of how weak I was and it was merely my way of putting the blame on him?
Perhaps I am longer troubled by painful memories of the past and choose the path towards a life without regrets and disappointment?
Perhaps I have evolved to another stage whereby I finally realized how excruciating it is to bear a grudge against someone for so long?
Perhaps it was time for me to move on?
Perhaps it was time for me to finally confront with my feelings?
Still, one thing remains certain.The hatred has gone and I do not hate him anymore.
That’s life I guess. We are often guided by our emotions in our daily endeavors. We often rely on our judgments that are unfortunately affected by negative emotions. Hatred, spite, vengeance, jealously, anger and pride are emotions that feed on our weak souls. We are not perfect and we cannot be devoid of emotions.
Negative emotions cannot be eradicated and it is a challenge for us to brace it.
It might be painful.
It might be humiliating.
It might be unbearable.
It might be hard.
But still, it is a necessity in life for us to fully understand our feelings and to fully understand how insignificant these negative thoughts are in comparison with the happiness at the end of our journey.
Forget about hate.
Forget about sadness.
Forget about all those feelings that pains you.
That’s life I believe.
What is hate to you?
What is the feeling of hate if you are granted emotions?
Honestly, I'm still searching for the answer.
For me, hate means a form of despair. Hate is a form of self-inflicted pain that cannot be described by words. Hate is a form of resentment. Hate is spite. Hate is jealousy. Hate is that feeling of pain when you see someone who have done you wrong. Hate is the feeling of yourself being engulfed by a sudden intense feeling that feeds on your rationality and character.
Dear blog,
I have always have this negative feeling about this particular person. I might put this negative energy as a form of hate.I hated the person from the bottom of my heart.I hated the way I was treated by him.I hated the way he smile at me.I hated the way our relationship have become. I never really like him and I feel that he too have a certain degree of resentment towards me. We despises each other and we are never shy in showing it.He was the bully and I was the victim.
The feeling of hatred existed between us. The feeling was very destructive. It was overwhelming. It consumed all my positive thoughts. It made me cursed my weakness. It made feel that I was worthless in life. It drives him to be more aggressive in treating and it drives me to hate him even deeper. I hated him. Hate was the only word that I can think of about the presence of this wretched fiend in my life. The seed of hatred was planted deep inside my heart, nourished by my inability to control my feelings and my hesitation in forgiveness.
We went our separate ways years ago and was reunited under the playful instruction of fate.Our reunion was short but it leaves a very deep mark in me.Just when I thought that I have loss the slightest respect for him, my facial muscles involuntarily moved and smiled at him.It happened so fast that I was unable to grasp the situation.It was as if all of the hatred and vindictive feelings that I had were vanquished by a sudden force.He nodded back and we went our separate ways again.
Was it forgiveness that I just gave him or it is merely a form of temporary truce?
Have all the hatred that I have cultivated in the abyss of my mind subdues?
For years, I have waited the time when I was strong enough to fight back with all of the suppressed feelings that festered in my heart. Clearly, I was amazed at how different I reacted during my last reunion with him. I hesitated in meeting with him and I am still confused of the sudden change that I have displayed during the encounter.
Perhaps it was because I have grown?
Perhaps all of the hate that I have for him has driven me to do better in life and to seek a chance to laugh back at him?
Perhaps my mind have evolved to such state that hate is no longer in me?
Perhaps it was an act of pride to my opponent? Patronizing him with my sudden act of forgiveness?
Perhaps it was a reflection of my state of happiness? Genuine happiness that was born out of the people I met and the experiences I gained?
Perhaps my wounds have healed a very long time ago without me ever noticing it?
Perhaps the hatred that I have was a indication of how weak I was and it was merely my way of putting the blame on him?
Perhaps I am longer troubled by painful memories of the past and choose the path towards a life without regrets and disappointment?
Perhaps I have evolved to another stage whereby I finally realized how excruciating it is to bear a grudge against someone for so long?
Perhaps it was time for me to move on?
Perhaps it was time for me to finally confront with my feelings?
Still, one thing remains certain.The hatred has gone and I do not hate him anymore.
That’s life I guess. We are often guided by our emotions in our daily endeavors. We often rely on our judgments that are unfortunately affected by negative emotions. Hatred, spite, vengeance, jealously, anger and pride are emotions that feed on our weak souls. We are not perfect and we cannot be devoid of emotions.
Negative emotions cannot be eradicated and it is a challenge for us to brace it.
It might be painful.
It might be humiliating.
It might be unbearable.
It might be hard.
But still, it is a necessity in life for us to fully understand our feelings and to fully understand how insignificant these negative thoughts are in comparison with the happiness at the end of our journey.
Forget about hate.
Forget about sadness.
Forget about all those feelings that pains you.
That’s life I believe.
Me? Turning older?
Dear blog,
I'm extremely sorry for not updating you for weeks and weeks.I've been busy, you see.
Dear blog,
I'll be turning 19 by the stroke of midnight and here I am wondering all of the things that I've been through for the past few years.
I recalled vividly my 18th birthday with me alone in my hostel, with no friends by my side. It was enjoyable at first doing things that I never dreamt of doing. Buying books that I never knew I enjoyed it. Eating foods abundantly found in the shopping complexes.
The experience was pleasant at first but the ecstatic feeling of being alone slowly evolved into a feeling of uneasiness slowly crawling over me. When I returned back to my hostel around 11 pm that night, I looked at the condition of my apartment(if it can be classified as an apartment).No one was there but me. No one was there to keep me company with the exception of my shadows dancing on the floor.
Just then, I realized that I have forgotten to reward myself with a piece of cake, as modern custom dictates as a necessity in a birthday celebration. As I lit the candle on top of an ordinary cake that I bought from a convenient store nearby, I closed my eyes and was contemplating on my birthday wish.
I began to wonder what I have done for the past 17 years.
I began to think of the tears that I shed. I began to think of the regrets that I have in life.
I began to think of the joyous moments that ever occurred in my life.
I began to think of the people around me.
I began to notice the change in my mentality and how it was different from my friends.
I began to think of myself as person-what I truly want in life.
As I blew away the flame of the short candle, darkness engulfed the room that I was in. Yet, a new light has been lit in me.
The light that guides me to go through every day with a smile.
The light that encourage me to wake from infinite dreams of uncertainties and despairs.
The light that motiovates me to work better next time.
It is human instinct to live and to survive. The primitive ability of man to rise from the defeats and despairs has always resulted in the birth of a new era. It has always been easy to strike down an old empire than to cultivate it. Life itself is like a game of war with each human has to conquer the fortress in him/her.
It is human nature for us to shirk from danger and to embrace the comfort zone. However, I do yearn for a challenge- the tasks of changing my self for the better and to live through hardships with steel-like determination.
That is the light that I’ve been talking about.
For my 19th Birthday, I wish for the same thing:
- to live life according to my standards and to expect the best from life!
I'm extremely sorry for not updating you for weeks and weeks.I've been busy, you see.
Dear blog,
I'll be turning 19 by the stroke of midnight and here I am wondering all of the things that I've been through for the past few years.
I recalled vividly my 18th birthday with me alone in my hostel, with no friends by my side. It was enjoyable at first doing things that I never dreamt of doing. Buying books that I never knew I enjoyed it. Eating foods abundantly found in the shopping complexes.
The experience was pleasant at first but the ecstatic feeling of being alone slowly evolved into a feeling of uneasiness slowly crawling over me. When I returned back to my hostel around 11 pm that night, I looked at the condition of my apartment(if it can be classified as an apartment).No one was there but me. No one was there to keep me company with the exception of my shadows dancing on the floor.
Just then, I realized that I have forgotten to reward myself with a piece of cake, as modern custom dictates as a necessity in a birthday celebration. As I lit the candle on top of an ordinary cake that I bought from a convenient store nearby, I closed my eyes and was contemplating on my birthday wish.
I began to wonder what I have done for the past 17 years.
I began to think of the tears that I shed. I began to think of the regrets that I have in life.
I began to think of the joyous moments that ever occurred in my life.
I began to think of the people around me.
I began to notice the change in my mentality and how it was different from my friends.
I began to think of myself as person-what I truly want in life.
As I blew away the flame of the short candle, darkness engulfed the room that I was in. Yet, a new light has been lit in me.
The light that guides me to go through every day with a smile.
The light that encourage me to wake from infinite dreams of uncertainties and despairs.
The light that motiovates me to work better next time.
It is human instinct to live and to survive. The primitive ability of man to rise from the defeats and despairs has always resulted in the birth of a new era. It has always been easy to strike down an old empire than to cultivate it. Life itself is like a game of war with each human has to conquer the fortress in him/her.
It is human nature for us to shirk from danger and to embrace the comfort zone. However, I do yearn for a challenge- the tasks of changing my self for the better and to live through hardships with steel-like determination.
That is the light that I’ve been talking about.
For my 19th Birthday, I wish for the same thing:
- to live life according to my standards and to expect the best from life!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Me, a caterpillar?
Dear blog,
A very dear old friend of mine stumbled upon you by sheer accident and started questioning me the rationality behind proclaiming myself as a caterpillar.
An ugly, insignificant caterpillar like this?
A caterpillar is a symbol that I use to represent the stages of my growth.Similar to the caterpillar that consumes a lot of nutrients before it gains the necessary energy that drives its rapid transformation into a cocoon and a proud butterfly, I too follow the same practice.
The caterpillar is voracious in its appetite for green leaves and can be seen devouring a huge green leaves within minutes with its small jab.As a human being, our consumption of matter normally exist in the food we eat and the drinks we take in.
How about the intellectual side of life? Aren't we suppose to take that into consideration also? For me life without thinking of anything is a definitely an escape from the increasingly demanding college life that I'm going through.However as the short story "the lotus eater" suggests, men are so confined with their present comfort that they started to lose interest in the things that make their life more colorful.
Imagine what a pity it would be to be blessed with the ability to change the circumstances we are in and yet we choose to say no to hardships and struggle just because the prospect of not doing anything with the lowest effort possible has greatly influenced influenced our decisions.The illusions are real for us and nothing can save us from the clutches of a dull lifestyle except for the sudden revelation that is too late for us.
The caterpillar has a shorter lifespan compared to most animals.But does this serve as a reason for it to be pessimistic about like and reluctantly select to look down on the leave that it's now resting and sigh:" I'm a wretched caterpillar." ?
You might argue that I'm romanticizing the life of caterpillars like what those before me did, but I feel that every living being regardless of its intellectual capacity and aesthetic appreciation of life has the basic instinct to life and to make decision to ensure its survival without knowing how many changes that might be resulted from the change.
Dear blog, I want to fly high above the mountains with my wings spread widely without worries to bind me to the solid ground.But before that, I need to be in a cocoon, a stage that stores immense potential that would shock and amaze the world when a beautiful butterfly flaps its wing from the insignificant looking cocoon.That's how I guess a caterpillar would feel if it was me.After all, everyone wants to change and become something that captures the attention of others.It is a reflection of hopeless and vain we are in expressing our selves.
That's life I'm afraid.
Dear blog,
Won't you agree that all of those taunts and jeers from the ignorant and the blind are worth it after seeing this picture?
A very dear old friend of mine stumbled upon you by sheer accident and started questioning me the rationality behind proclaiming myself as a caterpillar.
An ugly, insignificant caterpillar like this?
A caterpillar is a symbol that I use to represent the stages of my growth.Similar to the caterpillar that consumes a lot of nutrients before it gains the necessary energy that drives its rapid transformation into a cocoon and a proud butterfly, I too follow the same practice.
The caterpillar is voracious in its appetite for green leaves and can be seen devouring a huge green leaves within minutes with its small jab.As a human being, our consumption of matter normally exist in the food we eat and the drinks we take in.
How about the intellectual side of life? Aren't we suppose to take that into consideration also? For me life without thinking of anything is a definitely an escape from the increasingly demanding college life that I'm going through.However as the short story "the lotus eater" suggests, men are so confined with their present comfort that they started to lose interest in the things that make their life more colorful.
Imagine what a pity it would be to be blessed with the ability to change the circumstances we are in and yet we choose to say no to hardships and struggle just because the prospect of not doing anything with the lowest effort possible has greatly influenced influenced our decisions.The illusions are real for us and nothing can save us from the clutches of a dull lifestyle except for the sudden revelation that is too late for us.
The caterpillar has a shorter lifespan compared to most animals.But does this serve as a reason for it to be pessimistic about like and reluctantly select to look down on the leave that it's now resting and sigh:" I'm a wretched caterpillar." ?
You might argue that I'm romanticizing the life of caterpillars like what those before me did, but I feel that every living being regardless of its intellectual capacity and aesthetic appreciation of life has the basic instinct to life and to make decision to ensure its survival without knowing how many changes that might be resulted from the change.
Dear blog, I want to fly high above the mountains with my wings spread widely without worries to bind me to the solid ground.But before that, I need to be in a cocoon, a stage that stores immense potential that would shock and amaze the world when a beautiful butterfly flaps its wing from the insignificant looking cocoon.That's how I guess a caterpillar would feel if it was me.After all, everyone wants to change and become something that captures the attention of others.It is a reflection of hopeless and vain we are in expressing our selves.
That's life I'm afraid.
Dear blog,
Won't you agree that all of those taunts and jeers from the ignorant and the blind are worth it after seeing this picture?
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Why do I write-an addiction that I cultivated
Dear blog,
What do you know about addiction?
Well, biologically speaking, addiction involves the stimulation and depression mechanism that exist in every one of us.
Whenever any poison(or in any case a stimulation) is inserted into the body, nervous system sends a warning signal to the appropriate brain center.Meanwhile, the brain center which is concerned with the survival of the body against internal enemies sends a signal to the heart, encouraging the heart to accelerate.As the the blood circulation increases and it registered in the mind as a feeling of exhilaration or in my friend's term(kinky), such as the excitement we experience when we engage in sports or any vigorous exercise. This "high" feeling is enjoyable and exciting and we crave its repetition more and more than we can imagined.
So what's my addiction?
I am addicted to the world of words.It is not a craving that I was meant to engaged but rather my way of proving that I do can take control of the selection of my addictions.As common as it may sound, I enjoy the presence of a good book laying neatly on my table for further reading.When I read, it's like a surge of sensations engulfing my mind.I would just place my attention on the lines and the words and let my imagination wander under the tactful maneuvering of the authors.Because I read a lot, I've always been confronted by this indescribable urge to write and to convey my thoughts,my desires, my experiences, my imagination and my principles into the form of words stringed together neatly.I never dream of the day when I would I have the gut to write and compose something for the enjoyment of people who are like me, obsessed with the existence of a good piece of writing.
I believe that one of the most painful experience that a writer must meet in each and every assignments that was given to him would have to be the need to express himself.As easy as I may sound, writers often faced the predicament of not being able to convey their thoughts well with readers.It is easy for a person to write but won't you agree with me that it takes a lot of experience and self-realization to write something that can touched the hearts of readers through skillful manipulations of verbs, tenses, nouns and adjectives? It is a pity that writing has always been the affair between two different hearts.From love poems to business letters,court order to movie script, everything involves two distinctly different sides-the writer and the reader.If the reader couldn't understand the meaning brought forth by the writer, the piece of writing would be no more than a part of the inaudible rantings, mumblings and moaning of the writer.
Though it takes great courage to write, it takes an even greater courage to accept the presence of a reader out there who would read the writer's composition.Since when writing has become such a commercialized enjoyment that people write to earn a living and read to pay for their house rents? Since when writing have become so demanding that people need to attend courses and workshop to excel as an established writer? Can't writing be just pure amusement and enjoyment on behalf of the person sitting at his desk with a worn out pen in his hand? Since when the mutual relationships between readers and writers have evolved to be more complicated as it used to be? Could it be that as the means of communication revolutionized, the craving for better literature increases substantially that writing is no more a conversation between two soul and two hearts? Instead it has become an announcement of the soul of the writer out to the public? Now, every one can easily obtain a copy of Shakespeare from the nearest bookstore around them or have the pleasure of reading a classical piece of Greek poetry right from the comforts of one's home through the convenience of online reading.However, do readers really enjoyed it? Or is it a mere act of ingratitude for the writers? Think about the books that are covered in dust after yu bought it and you hide the in that large bookshelf of yours!
Although, the proliferation of literature in the modern world has brought hundreds of contribution in terms of the humane development of mankind, don't you feel that because of the accessibility of the source that we as readers and writers have taken for granted of the billions of writings spread through out the century.Some ancient articles are not appreciated anymore and only serve as the coveted objects of collectors or museums.I guess that's one of the saddest fact about literature.It reached its peak during its time but there is simply no possible guarantee that I will do so after a long stretch of time.Only when there is a genuine reader who would take the effort in perusing through the tomes and understanding the ancient verses untaught in schools nowadays that the quintessential relationship between a writer and reader can be preserved.Literature is not like a portrait by DaVinci, hung proudly in the wings of the Parisian museum.Literature itself should be like the wind, traveling fast into the depths of everyone's heart.That's literature.That's life in writing.
Dear blog, my addiction for writing has gave me insurmountable amount of pleasure as I type these words out.However, even though I may regard this as my way of expressing literature, it may well be the ranting of a drunkard, throwing his fist up into the air, muttering curses in an unexplainable trance.
Dear blog, am I at it again?
What do you know about addiction?
Well, biologically speaking, addiction involves the stimulation and depression mechanism that exist in every one of us.
Whenever any poison(or in any case a stimulation) is inserted into the body, nervous system sends a warning signal to the appropriate brain center.Meanwhile, the brain center which is concerned with the survival of the body against internal enemies sends a signal to the heart, encouraging the heart to accelerate.As the the blood circulation increases and it registered in the mind as a feeling of exhilaration or in my friend's term(kinky), such as the excitement we experience when we engage in sports or any vigorous exercise. This "high" feeling is enjoyable and exciting and we crave its repetition more and more than we can imagined.
So what's my addiction?
I am addicted to the world of words.It is not a craving that I was meant to engaged but rather my way of proving that I do can take control of the selection of my addictions.As common as it may sound, I enjoy the presence of a good book laying neatly on my table for further reading.When I read, it's like a surge of sensations engulfing my mind.I would just place my attention on the lines and the words and let my imagination wander under the tactful maneuvering of the authors.Because I read a lot, I've always been confronted by this indescribable urge to write and to convey my thoughts,my desires, my experiences, my imagination and my principles into the form of words stringed together neatly.I never dream of the day when I would I have the gut to write and compose something for the enjoyment of people who are like me, obsessed with the existence of a good piece of writing.
I believe that one of the most painful experience that a writer must meet in each and every assignments that was given to him would have to be the need to express himself.As easy as I may sound, writers often faced the predicament of not being able to convey their thoughts well with readers.It is easy for a person to write but won't you agree with me that it takes a lot of experience and self-realization to write something that can touched the hearts of readers through skillful manipulations of verbs, tenses, nouns and adjectives? It is a pity that writing has always been the affair between two different hearts.From love poems to business letters,court order to movie script, everything involves two distinctly different sides-the writer and the reader.If the reader couldn't understand the meaning brought forth by the writer, the piece of writing would be no more than a part of the inaudible rantings, mumblings and moaning of the writer.
Though it takes great courage to write, it takes an even greater courage to accept the presence of a reader out there who would read the writer's composition.Since when writing has become such a commercialized enjoyment that people write to earn a living and read to pay for their house rents? Since when writing have become so demanding that people need to attend courses and workshop to excel as an established writer? Can't writing be just pure amusement and enjoyment on behalf of the person sitting at his desk with a worn out pen in his hand? Since when the mutual relationships between readers and writers have evolved to be more complicated as it used to be? Could it be that as the means of communication revolutionized, the craving for better literature increases substantially that writing is no more a conversation between two soul and two hearts? Instead it has become an announcement of the soul of the writer out to the public? Now, every one can easily obtain a copy of Shakespeare from the nearest bookstore around them or have the pleasure of reading a classical piece of Greek poetry right from the comforts of one's home through the convenience of online reading.However, do readers really enjoyed it? Or is it a mere act of ingratitude for the writers? Think about the books that are covered in dust after yu bought it and you hide the in that large bookshelf of yours!
Although, the proliferation of literature in the modern world has brought hundreds of contribution in terms of the humane development of mankind, don't you feel that because of the accessibility of the source that we as readers and writers have taken for granted of the billions of writings spread through out the century.Some ancient articles are not appreciated anymore and only serve as the coveted objects of collectors or museums.I guess that's one of the saddest fact about literature.It reached its peak during its time but there is simply no possible guarantee that I will do so after a long stretch of time.Only when there is a genuine reader who would take the effort in perusing through the tomes and understanding the ancient verses untaught in schools nowadays that the quintessential relationship between a writer and reader can be preserved.Literature is not like a portrait by DaVinci, hung proudly in the wings of the Parisian museum.Literature itself should be like the wind, traveling fast into the depths of everyone's heart.That's literature.That's life in writing.
Dear blog, my addiction for writing has gave me insurmountable amount of pleasure as I type these words out.However, even though I may regard this as my way of expressing literature, it may well be the ranting of a drunkard, throwing his fist up into the air, muttering curses in an unexplainable trance.
Dear blog, am I at it again?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
My dreams? Desires? Wild Talks?
Dear blog,
What are my passion?
My dreams?
My desires?
My ambition?
However abstract these words may turn out to be, I never really have an exact answer as to what I really want in life.In fact I am at a loss for words every time any acquaintance of mine asked me of these intangible yet undeniable enquiries in life.
I believe that a majority of youths nowadays wanted fame and fortune.They want to have the best in life. Still, some prefer to have knowledge and good health.Others wish for a better tomorrow.But seriously, what do youths want?
They yearn for unlimited fame that would make them glow in the eyes of the press.They wish for uncountable assests that qualify them a life shrouded in the laps of luxury without any anxieties over the cessation of such enjoyment.They want to feel respected with the material possesion that they have.After all, money buys influence and companionship.
Still, some just want to cure that lingering feeling of emptiness every time when they come back to their rooms, seeing nobody but their tired reflection on the mirror.They hope that they can have power and better control over the things that matter most to them.They want to make their friends, family and community proud of their achievements.They want to be savor the satissfaction of being able to be someone and to do something worth of remembrance.
However, there are time when they want to have their voice heard in the decision making.They want to represented the under-represented.They aspire to become the force that guides the establishment of a better world, untainted by greed and idiosyncrasies of the corrupted mind.They demand for changes to be made in regrads to rampant discrimination in the constitution of the global world.
They vouch for the increasing concerns expressed by youths like themselves in matters of public welfare.They wish to promote awareness in notable causes such as AIDS, free education, economic disaparities,decline of moral values and the list just simply goes on and on......
So, what do I really want to achieve in life? Basically, I want to grow. I want to see more things in life than mountains of books readily displayed in the libraries. I want to understand more about how the human brain works and the miraculous biochemical mechanism that makes us who we are in terms of our genetic compositions,brain activity, our physical movements, our moods and our preferences.I want to accept the conflicing ideas that spwan from the existence of divergence in our upbringing and experinces.I want to be grateful for everything that I have be it good or bad.
But most importantly, i want to make an impact.That's the definition of growth to me.
What are my passion?
My dreams?
My desires?
My ambition?
However abstract these words may turn out to be, I never really have an exact answer as to what I really want in life.In fact I am at a loss for words every time any acquaintance of mine asked me of these intangible yet undeniable enquiries in life.
I believe that a majority of youths nowadays wanted fame and fortune.They want to have the best in life. Still, some prefer to have knowledge and good health.Others wish for a better tomorrow.But seriously, what do youths want?
They yearn for unlimited fame that would make them glow in the eyes of the press.They wish for uncountable assests that qualify them a life shrouded in the laps of luxury without any anxieties over the cessation of such enjoyment.They want to feel respected with the material possesion that they have.After all, money buys influence and companionship.
Still, some just want to cure that lingering feeling of emptiness every time when they come back to their rooms, seeing nobody but their tired reflection on the mirror.They hope that they can have power and better control over the things that matter most to them.They want to make their friends, family and community proud of their achievements.They want to be savor the satissfaction of being able to be someone and to do something worth of remembrance.
However, there are time when they want to have their voice heard in the decision making.They want to represented the under-represented.They aspire to become the force that guides the establishment of a better world, untainted by greed and idiosyncrasies of the corrupted mind.They demand for changes to be made in regrads to rampant discrimination in the constitution of the global world.
They vouch for the increasing concerns expressed by youths like themselves in matters of public welfare.They wish to promote awareness in notable causes such as AIDS, free education, economic disaparities,decline of moral values and the list just simply goes on and on......
So, what do I really want to achieve in life? Basically, I want to grow. I want to see more things in life than mountains of books readily displayed in the libraries. I want to understand more about how the human brain works and the miraculous biochemical mechanism that makes us who we are in terms of our genetic compositions,brain activity, our physical movements, our moods and our preferences.I want to accept the conflicing ideas that spwan from the existence of divergence in our upbringing and experinces.I want to be grateful for everything that I have be it good or bad.
But most importantly, i want to make an impact.That's the definition of growth to me.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
What's right and What's wrong?
Dear blog,
Our lives as mere humans are often marked by the decisions we make in our attempt to justify our existence in the face of the world. Famous painters namely Da Vinci, Picasso, Van Gough received wide admiration for the masterpieces that they produced. Some of these famous artists were not even known by the critics when the former were alive. Ironically, like many famous figures in history, their existence and their history were only appreciated after their deaths and lives marred by disappointments and resentment.
I believe that’s the ugly side of art. We take pleasure in the suffering of others and indulged ourselves in morbid fascination as so displayed in our daily interaction with the media. We gossip. We talked about spite. We laughed at the ridiculous actions of an ignorant fool rather than to correct him. We try to patronize people who are positioned lower than us. We sought after praises for any act of martyrdom that we expressed to the less fortunate. We take pleasure in seeing our enemies bow down in humiliation in front of us.We ridiculed the foolish comments made by a particular person just because we wanted to admonish such careless mistakes. We view and judge the world based on our own measuring tape and we would strangle anyone who refuse to accept it. We argue.We debate.We scorn.We jilt.But have we ever stop and think meditatively, are we suppose to do so?
I believe life is all about making choices. It is really a pity that we too are subjected to foibles.There is imperfection in every one of us. Our fallacious thinking are often constructed upon these reasoning foibles that we have and the personal experiences that characterized our lives. There is simply no right or wrong in the statements and opinions made by human. We are after all, confined within our own standard of evaluation, limited to our own understanding and knowledge about a particular matter.It is too bad that any people would agree on these opinions of mine.Then again, every one has the ultimate right over his/her principles in life.No comments, no sarcasm, no mockery of any kind that rob the conviction that I have for my own opinion!
Dear blog, am I mumbling to myself again?
Our lives as mere humans are often marked by the decisions we make in our attempt to justify our existence in the face of the world. Famous painters namely Da Vinci, Picasso, Van Gough received wide admiration for the masterpieces that they produced. Some of these famous artists were not even known by the critics when the former were alive. Ironically, like many famous figures in history, their existence and their history were only appreciated after their deaths and lives marred by disappointments and resentment.
I believe that’s the ugly side of art. We take pleasure in the suffering of others and indulged ourselves in morbid fascination as so displayed in our daily interaction with the media. We gossip. We talked about spite. We laughed at the ridiculous actions of an ignorant fool rather than to correct him. We try to patronize people who are positioned lower than us. We sought after praises for any act of martyrdom that we expressed to the less fortunate. We take pleasure in seeing our enemies bow down in humiliation in front of us.We ridiculed the foolish comments made by a particular person just because we wanted to admonish such careless mistakes. We view and judge the world based on our own measuring tape and we would strangle anyone who refuse to accept it. We argue.We debate.We scorn.We jilt.But have we ever stop and think meditatively, are we suppose to do so?
I believe life is all about making choices. It is really a pity that we too are subjected to foibles.There is imperfection in every one of us. Our fallacious thinking are often constructed upon these reasoning foibles that we have and the personal experiences that characterized our lives. There is simply no right or wrong in the statements and opinions made by human. We are after all, confined within our own standard of evaluation, limited to our own understanding and knowledge about a particular matter.It is too bad that any people would agree on these opinions of mine.Then again, every one has the ultimate right over his/her principles in life.No comments, no sarcasm, no mockery of any kind that rob the conviction that I have for my own opinion!
Dear blog, am I mumbling to myself again?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
New Year Promises
Dear blog,
Although it's a few weeks after the 1st, I felt obliged to recite my new year vows.Sometimes, vows serves as such powerful ties that links you to one another.It is a promise made when you recite it to someone.It is a reminder of your past and present.Your actions are at times governed by the words that you read, the sentences that you write and even the voice that you uttered.All of these can serve as a link to the hearts of others-people whom they shared your feelings, ambitions, experiences, and beliefs.
Couples renewed their wedding vows as a way of showing to one another that they are happily together, be it in poverty, illness, disasters and even death!
Sons and daughters vow in front of their parents for better fulfillment of their lives.
Doctors vow to treat all patients equally and would not discriminate the latter based on wealth, education, race, religions and cultures.
Teachers vow to treat their students well and put on masks if they have to tell their pupils the harshness of the world outside.
So what is my vow for the new year?
I strive to be more hardworking in my studies.
I strive to be more friendly to the people around me.
I strive to be more patient in times of difficulties.
I strive to be able to create a harmonious environment to live in.
I strive to be more able to understand the situations of others.
I strive to be more sympathethic when listening to people.
I strive to be more sensitive towards the changes made around me.
I strive to be more active in my endeavours.
I strive to be more caring towards my loved ones.
I strive to be more truthful in my manner and in manner.
Finally, I strive to be a human, a happy human.
Although it's a few weeks after the 1st, I felt obliged to recite my new year vows.Sometimes, vows serves as such powerful ties that links you to one another.It is a promise made when you recite it to someone.It is a reminder of your past and present.Your actions are at times governed by the words that you read, the sentences that you write and even the voice that you uttered.All of these can serve as a link to the hearts of others-people whom they shared your feelings, ambitions, experiences, and beliefs.
Couples renewed their wedding vows as a way of showing to one another that they are happily together, be it in poverty, illness, disasters and even death!
Sons and daughters vow in front of their parents for better fulfillment of their lives.
Doctors vow to treat all patients equally and would not discriminate the latter based on wealth, education, race, religions and cultures.
Teachers vow to treat their students well and put on masks if they have to tell their pupils the harshness of the world outside.
So what is my vow for the new year?
I strive to be more hardworking in my studies.
I strive to be more friendly to the people around me.
I strive to be more patient in times of difficulties.
I strive to be able to create a harmonious environment to live in.
I strive to be more able to understand the situations of others.
I strive to be more sympathethic when listening to people.
I strive to be more sensitive towards the changes made around me.
I strive to be more active in my endeavours.
I strive to be more caring towards my loved ones.
I strive to be more truthful in my manner and in manner.
Finally, I strive to be a human, a happy human.
I'm sorry !
Dear blog,
I'm extremely sorry for not feeding you with the latest happenings that are taking place around me.It is easy for me to just find any excuses to justify my absence from your world of words that serve as the haven for me to express my ideas, my thoughts, my experiences, my feelings,my achievements and lastly my vanity.
Yes, I am a vain person. Just an ordinary vain man.
A person who enjoys to be praised for a job well done.
A person who would find reasons behind the mistakes that I make.
A person who would at times be selfish and mean towards the people around him.
A person who are easily excited at the discovery of a new talent that I have.
A person who scorns any impurities that might surfaced for the public's viewing.
A person who would try his best in burying his dark, hideous secrets-secrets that make him who he is right now.
A person who are more concerned about himself and his connections than the impeding question of recessions and global climate change.
A person who admit that he shares narcissus's craving for attention in the mirror.
I am sorry for not renewing you my blog.As vain as I can, I never really can change the course fate has to offer me.I cannot cahnge the fact that I am merely human, someone who can susceptible to aging and ailments around this modern world. I too made mistakes.I too achieved something in life.
However, I am still learning how to stand up from the mistake I have made in life. Have you ever have regrets in your life.That particular moment when you feel that you can dash everything out and hope to turn back that emotionless clock to the point of no regrets. I am learning to accept those regrets that I have made through out my life as I figured that the more I store it, the stronger I become.Mistakes helps me to grow.
It helps me to know who I am.
It help me to know where I stand.
It help me to see the world from other people's point of view.
And finally it help me to have the courage to say sorry.
Sorry, my blog for not writing so long.........
I'm extremely sorry for not feeding you with the latest happenings that are taking place around me.It is easy for me to just find any excuses to justify my absence from your world of words that serve as the haven for me to express my ideas, my thoughts, my experiences, my feelings,my achievements and lastly my vanity.
Yes, I am a vain person. Just an ordinary vain man.
A person who enjoys to be praised for a job well done.
A person who would find reasons behind the mistakes that I make.
A person who would at times be selfish and mean towards the people around him.
A person who are easily excited at the discovery of a new talent that I have.
A person who scorns any impurities that might surfaced for the public's viewing.
A person who would try his best in burying his dark, hideous secrets-secrets that make him who he is right now.
A person who are more concerned about himself and his connections than the impeding question of recessions and global climate change.
A person who admit that he shares narcissus's craving for attention in the mirror.
I am sorry for not renewing you my blog.As vain as I can, I never really can change the course fate has to offer me.I cannot cahnge the fact that I am merely human, someone who can susceptible to aging and ailments around this modern world. I too made mistakes.I too achieved something in life.
However, I am still learning how to stand up from the mistake I have made in life. Have you ever have regrets in your life.That particular moment when you feel that you can dash everything out and hope to turn back that emotionless clock to the point of no regrets. I am learning to accept those regrets that I have made through out my life as I figured that the more I store it, the stronger I become.Mistakes helps me to grow.
It helps me to know who I am.
It help me to know where I stand.
It help me to see the world from other people's point of view.
And finally it help me to have the courage to say sorry.
Sorry, my blog for not writing so long.........
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