When you awake at 6 in the morning.

Today’s breakfast was good. Was it that I woke up feeling fresh, not tired and haggard? Maybe it was the full kilometer I finally ran. Was it the sense of purpose I have suddenly developed?

 

 

Maybe, it was the warm ambience that greeted me as I entered. Perhaps it was the scent of coffee. Perhaps it was that face at the counter who gave me a taste of a past that I miss. Yes, it is the ambience. Even though I am tucked away, tapping to the sound of my never ending thoughts, I feel a strange sense of belonging here. No, I feel like I am there again. Those mornings I woke up with a sense of purpose. Tired, but that pull towards wanting to do something; I miss that. I miss having that pull of what I wanted. Not what society has deemed for me to want. How do I achieve what I want? I must first discover what it is. Then, and only then, can I work towards making it happen. But then, life comes in the way. There are responsibilities to uphold, bills to pay, friends to meet, relationships to upkeep,..then the next question comes: is it still even possible?

 

Impossible is the journey that I never begin.

 

Have I began mine? Yes. And this fine morning, in this wonderful new place I have discovered, I have made it move just a little bit more. Today is the day I set greater goals in motion. I will move forward. No, the path is not set in stone; but what is the fun of walking a straight road in which I absolutely know the outcome?

 

Will I be here again? Most definitely.

Random....I've lost count.

I am.......... tubby. You may call me Sir Tubbles of Rub-A-Tub-Tubby.




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No, it was not romantic to be gnawing on unidentifiable meats. I could not see what I was eating. The plate was too small; I couldn't move my food without gravy spilling out. Who invented the concept of poorly-lit dining as a romancing feature did not consider what a grown woman looks like poking at her plate trying to figure out what is meat and what is bone so she could try to figure out how to cut the meats. That is not yet to mention the sight of one biting off the meats from the bones like a t-rex when she discovers that the knife won't cut through the fats. God made an amazing invention - teeth.



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Discipline is hard to come by. Perhaps I should put that down.





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There is no point in planning out months around it if you're not going to complete the initial step!




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Letting go is always going to be hard, but sometimes it is what is best. Perhaps not for you, but if it is for the other person, then that is how it shall be.





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No, not the small Viking.





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My heart long for it so bad. My brain says "Well then make it happen". Yes, I can make it happen.




****************************



I will be there.

For you and for me.

The only impossible journey is the one that I never begin.

It took that long.

Me: There’s a lai in the fridge.

Him: A lie? *puzzled look*

Me: Yea!! D*mn big lai. I was so excited when I saw it. I put it in the fridge.

Him: You put a lie in the fridge?

Me: Of course! Lais are best served cold.

Him: Isn’t that revenge? (Revenge is a dish best served cold)

Me: No. I just like my lais cold.

Him: What sort of person likes lies?

Me: But it’s so sweet!

Him: Isn’t that revenge? (Revenge is sweet)

Me: What is it with you and Revenge? (the tv series about that girl whose family was torn apart because of some corporate scandal)

Him: Well, what is it with you and lies?

Me: I saw it at the market the other day. So I bought one.

Him: *sudden realization* Lie? Lai? Oooooohhhhh….the fruit?

Me: Well of course. What else would a lai be? *sudden realization*

 

 

 

In the end, the lai was left uneaten. May you be safe til we return to eat you.

 

The weapons that you choose

Victory is not just in fighting to the end.
That act, of standing your ground, brandishing your sword, heaving blow after blow,..
That does not guarantee victory.

Sometimes you need to take that step back, assess your situation, and then only find your approach.

But also remember,

That sometime,


When you step back, you also need to re-evaluate what you consider as victory.

Is it in getting that 100% mark, or in finally remembering how to calculate the sums?
Is it in being at the mountain top, or is it in completing that hike up on your own?




There is great value in each struggle, provided that we choose to learn from it.

The horror.

 

1.       It tasted like collective sneezes colored in a slight hue of green for that authentic snot-effect, and a dusting of sweetness. Disgusting.

 

2.       The sight of the absent upholders was not horrific enough. As my reluctant eyes traced the pale versus darker lines, looking forward to being wrong, I was then rewarded with her gloriously lifting her arms. I may be old school in my opinion of the matter. But I find it unsightly. Forgive me, but I just do.

 

 

3.       It was like large chunks of empty dreams.

 

4.       There were curly hairs around the belly button.

 

5.       You just don’t expect certain people to curse. Suddenly they do.

 

6.       Apparently there are people who sweat out a pair of shorts, rinse them out with body wash, then dry them out with a blow-drier. No, they are not in the midst of travels.

 

7.       Were you preparing some sort of bouquet? Welcome, here’s the pot of earth with white lilies sticking out. Except instead of earth its human faeces, and instead of lilies it’s TP.

 

8.       HOW do you manage to commit murder under the seat EVERY SINGLE DAY? Shouldn’t we have noticed a significant reduction in manpower by now?

Dramatic sequence of events.

The baby catches my eye.







I catch the baby's eye.






I look at the baby.







The baby looks at me.







I look at the baby.









The baby widens his eyes at me.







I look at the baby.






The baby looks at me.







I realize the father is looking at me.










Oops.

Like peeing in the dark.

Would I have changed things had I known the outcome in advance?

I sort of knew. Look at the odds and the facts of the case. I knew it would turn out somewhat like this.

 

 

Would I have liked things to have gone further?

The heart wants what it wants. No matter how the brain tries to lay out the facts of the case, gives in-depth analysis of the outcomes of each foreseeable scenario, the heart will still want what it wants. And in that human endevour, yes, I am indeed guilty of it.

 

 

To what end?

To the end that I foresaw. I am that player in zugzwang who continues to play to the bitter end. As bitter as I know the loss to be, I play ‘til the end.

 

 

But remember that time, you said “go out in glory, not in shame”?

Yes, but this is a different matter. You don’t treat butter the way you do your car.

 

 

What was I expecting of it?

It wasn’t so much what I expected of it. Like I said, I sort of knew it would end up this way. But I fought on. I had hope. And I continue to hope. Each time, when the dagger comes crashing down that same spot, I winch even before it hits skin, but I never fail to fight. For I still have hope. I have hope that perhaps the heart knows what the brain cannot conceive. That someday, the outcome will not be what I painfully predict.

 

Did I achieve what I expected, short-lived as it might have been?

Yes. It kept my hopes up. I know that someday, I will claw my way out of my zugzwang checkboard. Beaten, broken, bruised, someday I will find my way. Had I not gone through this, I wouldn’t have that hope. To feel is human. Even feelings you don’t enjoy. You are human for having them. And so am I.

How am I perceived?

Have you ever tried to see yourself in the eyes of another? Do they see you the same? That friend that has seen you that day you came home in tears, does she see you the same way the mother that raised you sees you?


Are you different versions of yourself in front of different people? Which one is your "true" self?



To be good and to do good things, are they one and the same?

Random VII....errr, I forgot what I was at.

1. How does one remedy a foot-stench problem?

2. No, that was not what I was referring to.

3. What law is that?

4. Coping mechanisms.

5. "You are fighting for the right cause" yes, so thank you for the indifference.

6. Oh good God, what have I done.... Don't be so bad! Just because not handsome, you feel that way. Yeah, because it's creepy....

7. So now you see, you have to go through with it. Just in case.

8. I keep thinking of how different the impeccable brown silky skin is to the jiggly brown skin I'm used to. I do refer the jiggles.

9. Why do I keep doing that?

10. It's becoming much more than just the "R"s now.

11. Visions of my morning face.

12. Literature. Read it, discuss it, write about it.

13. So I'm following the map that leads to you.

14. Getting yourself to be where you want to be will be difficult if you don't know where you want to be in the first place.

Ironically, it was given to me for that reason I am giving it to you.

Isn’t this what you wanted? Why does it trouble you, then? Is it because it is now a given, and not a fight? End result is still the same, you wanted x, and now you are getting x.

 

Take deep breaths.

 

Clear your mind.

 

Would you rather live in the state of not knowing? Of uncertainty? That used to drive you crazy. Remember how you planned, re-planned, unplanned, and planned to plan? Now, that part has been done for you. The end result is still the same. In fact, now you know you are getting what you wanted.

 

Oh wait, you didn’t really have that in mind, did you?

 

You had some vague faraway thought of how you imagined things could be, but nothing definite. And now, what has happened is that you are given the realities. Those bubbles floating around are now solid rocks. Hold on to them for safety, drift to some new land, or sink. You choose.

 

What are you feeling? Knock knock.

 

Disappointed?

Heart-broken?

Angry?

Frustrated?

Defeated?

 

 

 

 

However you may be feeling, there is someone else feeling just like you. Maybe in slightly different proportions, but this is the time for you to be that shoulder, and remember that you have (multiple) shoulders more than willing to be there for you.

Confusion

Before gravity was discovered, did it not exist?



A father playfully throws his child in the air and knows the child will fall back towards him. Before gravity had its name, was it black magic? Was it blinds faith? Was it stupidity?


Does one have to consciously notice patterns of behaviour (things falling down towards the earth when thrown into the air) in order to justify his actions (throwing his child up in the air for fun)?



I feel like people forget that just because science hasn't figured out a way to explain something, that we should not be so quick to judge that something is a "foolish" "unfounded" or "unjustified" belief.



There are those who openly mock those who believe in "invisible" existences, or powers. Do they forget that germs were not discovered when surgery had long begun in medical practice? Do they forget that at some point, science had not discovered the existence of air, gravity, momentum, and many other "invisible" existences that do indeed affect our conscious world?



A learning mind is one that constantly seeks knowledge, questions it time and again, and is willing to accept that what was once a truth may have to be modified. So if you believe in a fixed truth, unwilling to budge from a pre-discovery era, explain how is it that you think you are not the primitive one?

Patience.

 

What does it mean to have patience? Why does it matter so much to have patience? So what if I am passionate, I make decisions whole-heartedly, to live in the moment and to live it to the fullest. Why should I wait?

Does having patience equate to waiting?

Does having patience equate to allowing others to thrust victory over me?

Does it mean keeping silent when I have so much to say?

Does it mean that I give way to others at each and every turn?

 

 

But perhaps, just perhaps, someone who practices patience will possess and portray these qualities:

 

Self-control.

The ability to make decisions despite overwhelming feelings. There is a saying: do not make promises when you are in bliss, and do not make decisions when angry. It means that promises and decisions should be made with a clear head, because these are things that concern not only yourself. Imagine a world where all decisions were made on a whim. On a gut feeling. On that magical moment enchantment.

Oh, how about a world where everyone brooded over each and every single decision they made?

Remember, the idea is self-control. Knowing when to stop and think, and also when too much thinking is clouding your judgement. Can a doctor afford to spend 5 minutes pondering whether or not to administer CPR? Should he, on the other hand, immediately register anesthetics at the slightest sign of discomfort?

Self-control is not found in passivity. Think of our good doctor; would you say he is patient for waiting for the patient to turn blue before taking action? Self-control is not found in not doing anything. And it is therefore also not a by-product of ignorance. The very word “control” implies an engagement to the situation, and reacting based on reasonable calculated measures.

 

Tolerance.

                The ability to disagree with someone else and yet find it within yourself to maintain respect towards them. You might spend years at each other’s throat, bickering and pounding argument after argument trying to disprove each other’s stance. But perhaps, just perhaps, if we realized that each person’s perspective comes from the angle they are viewing, it would help us realize that just because we appear to think opposing thoughts, doesn’t mean either party is right or wrong. Think of the five blind men and the elephant. Each of them described the elephant so differently, only because their sensories are limited. How confident are we that what we “see” is all there is to be seen?

                So how does one be tolerant of another without discriminating? Does it suffice to say “Let’s agree to disagree” and walk away from one another? In other words, do we abandon the elephant not to be discovered just because we cannot agree on how it looks like? Perhaps we say, “well, he believes the elephant looks like that, but based on my experience feeling up the elephant for the past –insert lengthy amount of time-, I know for a fact that the elephant is not how he believes it is”

 

Persistence.

                I would say that people forget that persistence is the most overlooked portion of patience. To keep at something despite feeling that you have reached your breaking point. Not to walk away even when you know the path is opened wide for you elsewhere. Also, to fight for something even when it feels like a lost cause. Unless you think of patience as passivity, then you will understand that it takes patience to stand your ground, and also to keep walking. Perseverance.

                The musician plays her piece again and again. The notes do not change, but she plays them. Fingers run up and down the keys. Does she not have patience to have played the same chords again and again, and somehow hoping that the outcome will be different? That this time, she will play that version that will evoke emotion never yet discovered to man.

 

 

Of course, there are other elements of patience. The question is, how do you put it to practice? It is but a word until you put it to practice. Until you find your definition for it, understand it, and live by it. Do you have the persistence to continuously discover, learn, strengthen, and build? Do you have the self-control to make sure you are not stacking your hay too high? That what you are doing is in the name of being the best that you can be, instead of a public display of what you think people should perceive of you? Can you find it within yourself to see that others are struggling to find their definitions; that we are all at different stages of development, if we are developing at all. Can we tolerate those at infantile stage without looking down on them? Can we respect those further along the road without letting awe freeze us in our tracks? Can we appreciate that each person has their journey to go through and that our paths cross and it is in our power whether we have a stand-off, get trampled over, walk over, or tango our way when we encounter one another?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

……and now, I shall go and live up in the mountains and sit cross-legged in silent murmurs.

No, I am not a llama.

 

I am stronger than that.

When I made that promise to be there for you, it was not a promise to you. It was a promise to myself. A vow. A vow I wish to uphold, which I will fight for. Fiercely. Did you think ignoring me and pushing me away will be enough to make me give up on you? Exile has always been my life. To be shunned by those I've loved, I feel no more pain to that. I chose you. I chose you for a reason. I will be strong for you until you can be strong for yourself. You were a gift to me, and this is what I can return to you. If it means that by the end of our fight, you never want to cross paths with me, that you ban the winds that ran by you to find their way to me, then so be it. You need me. Not anyone else. Me. If it means that you chase your dreams to spite me, to get away from me, then so it shall be. I know I will have fulfilled my right by you then. I will take my pain and sorrow and swallow them as I see you set forth on your lifelong bliss. That is how much you mean to me. Cut me off, push me away, curse at my very existence. I have never been wanted where I've been. That pain is numb to me. But at least, at the very least, I would know that you have what you wanted. Knowing that you got to where you wanted to be, that shall suffice for me.

Anecdote.

A man finds a mouse in the drawers of his kitchen. He snaps the drawer close on the tail and grabs the creature by the tail. Out comes his lighter, and up in flames he sets the squealing mammal.

His mother, horrified at the sight, asks why he has resorted to such cruel measures.

His response?

"Ma, the mouse comes from a Punjabi house, so it must be burnt. If it had come from a Muslim house I would have buries it, but I am not Muslim, so up in flames it goes."

Snap.

You did the exact same thing just a few days ago.

Hello people in Germany and United States!!

In ways you might not think of, we are connected.

Of course it is.

It reminds me of that afternoon. Reeking of a week of questionable hygienic measures, stumbling off the train with a newly found friend. How her one strand of purple highlight gleamed in the sun. American, was she? Or perhaps Canadian. I remember her name. We came from the same city, but as unfortunate as I was when I was there, she had it worse. But she still found it in her to help out a stranger.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around.

It was easy fining the place. Soft bar music played in the reception. But I was going foul. Couldn’t find how to get up to my room. I huffed. Perhaps had I had a companion by my side she would be the object of my frustration; but no, it was just me and my thoughts. Trudged up stairs, unhappy and grumbling. Opened the door, and there were already things strewn over my bed. I huffed again and trudged down the stairs, ready to kick a fuss.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Oh look, bubbles.

I had a new bed to my name in no time, no fuss needed. Back up the stairs, huffing and seething. The stench of my being was undeniable. I had to get rid of it. How I hated the mess I myself had created, resented that I could sense my own odour, despised that I had no clue what to do. On came the camera, and the words just flowed through. All I needed was to regain my composure. Easier said than done. I grab my then unorganized bag of so-called-necessities, and headed for a cleansing path.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. The water goes down. I wonder how many times it rinses them out?

Hot water on a tired body is amazing. Especially when it’s cold outside, and you can’t remember when you last had a proper shower. The one that nearly killed you doesn’t count. It nearly killed you. For the first time, I recognized the pleasure of lather against skin. It was always just a necessity before this. A chore. Something you had to get done. Now I know that each drop can give life to a body that has been beaten down.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Did I put in too much detergent?

Finally I pulled myself out from the comfort of the shower, dressed, and made my way back to the catastrophe splayed out in my room. Now, to clean my other belongings. Nothing was clean; everything worn and worn well. Outsides have been worn in, insides have been worn out. They needed a wash just as badly as I did. There wasn’t much, but it was all I had and it was what I needed to be cleaned. Into the bag they go, across my shoulders, and off we set to find them a place to get cleaned.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Swish swish swish….dammit, now my thoughts are in the mountains with that prince in pursuit.

The cold dry air blew against damp hair. Most of what I had was tucked away in the bag. Filthy. What little I had on didn’t do much to keep me warm. But I learnt that rain is your friend. It somehow made the air less nippy. Not a stick of beauty radiated from me. Not that it ever has, but at least I was clean now. Fragrant, even. If you enjoy the scent of antibacterial body wash.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. It’s a good thing that happened. At least I know I’ll survive this one, if I just wait it out long enough. Yes, I’ll be just fine. Just turn a blind eye, and refrain from inflicting self-agony. Ughh, easier said than done.

 

Finding the place was not easy. I was already bad with directions, and everything was just closed. The few that were open had no idea what I was talking about, and no one I stopped could help out either. I huffed again. Mood was getting darker and grimmer by the minute. Up and down the same streets again and again, it was just nowhere to be found. If bad mood had a name, mine would have been it at that time. Back to where I started, and other than an umbrella they lent me, the directions just did not help me get there.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Ah, there’s my sock.

I finally found a place that probably would know, summoned the courage to walk in, and asked. It was nearby. Thank God. I got there within a couple of minutes. Glory is to those who walk the blessed path. Finally. I was there. Backpack slides off, and I head to the machine. Oh no. How do I operate them? Where are the instructions? Yes, but where are the instructions that I can actually read? Again the clouds came over my already grim mood. Shake it off. There’s a girl sitting at the corner. Shall I ask her? Yes, I shall.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. Ok, out with the damp, over to the heat. I wonder if this’ll ruin them in the long run. But what choice do I have? Plus, it feels so nice to take them out so fuzzy and warm.

She was really nice. We talked, and she helped me read the bus routes. Gave me directions, and little tips and tricks. She was in tears. I offered a hug. She seemed glad to receive it. I was shivering, and she didn’t seem to notice. We talked and talked, and she offered to help in case I ever got stuck. I was glad. We never actually heard from one another again. But she was there when I needed her, and perhaps I had to get there at that time (and not earlier) because I had to be there for her as well.

They tumbled, tussled, plopped around and around. The bed was warm, and was what was needed after a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

Each week I have the pleasure of revisiting that memory. It brings thoughts like these to mind. I am in agony at the moment, but remembering what I got through, remembering that these pains are not first scars, I know I will pull through. I will be in need, and I’ve learnt that that is fine. There are good people out there, who help out of the goodness of their heart. As long as you are one of those good people, you are entitled to have faith in the goodness of others. Be true to what you believe is good. Be that. Have faith that others with that same goodness will find their way into your life. Your paths may only cross for a moment, and that’s fine. Some will stay. You’ve seen that. You still have that. Treasure it.

 

 

Each week, I will face you. May it bring me many more inspirations.

 

 

 

Except for the mosquitoes. Don’t bring me any more of those.

The value of a shoulder.

Yes, I am cared for. Perhaps not in the shape and form that I wished, but I know I am cared for. Whether it is that friend who offers to hold me tight, or the one that gets on all fours just so I wouldn't have to. It could also be the one that finds me the help I need when he/she cannot offer it. It is also that invisible one that keeps me safe, sending good people my way, so I can clamber out of my ditch. For this, I should be thankful. And indeed, I am.

Acceptance - no.

How does one determine that a climb is too steep, the rocks too jagged, the wall too frail for one to make? Despite seeing all the evidence, the hand just cannot let go of those jagged rocks; and each time they cut into flesh, the pain sears through the skin and venom gushes across my already weak limbs. I know the climb is pointless, and yet there I see my hand reaching out for that next rock. I feel sweat dripping down my brow, the hot sun beating the top of my head, blood flowing where fingernails once were. I cannot command my hands from pulling my already broken down body higher up. And the worst part, is that the higher I get, the tougher it is to climb down. Letting go is now futile. I can't let go. I can't stay where I am. Again I brace myself for another piercing pull upwards.



But what awaits me at the end of my climb?

Of brandished swords and unspoken words.

Was it the prize, the title, or the battle that you wanted? Can you justify the wanting of it? Should you? To hold the gleaming statue in your filthy paws, knowing that it would be rusty and degraded in your dingy hands. What makes you think you deserve it, if it was but a mere trophy that you wished to display? Perhaps you envy the glass that has been built around it now that it is in another’s prized case. Was it an unfair fight? Was it within your power to have changed the circumstances? Could you have done better? Why didn’t you? Have you learnt nothing from it?

 

I know you yearned the title. To be able to say that you fought a battle, and show the scars that lead to your victory. To inflict pain in your own unchartered paths. You set up yourself for this. Keep away all the empty imaginations that decorated the victory you never won. It was not meant to be a victory. It was the journey that mattered. The bruises you have, the gashes of blood now splattered across your tunic, those are what you have gained. To have stood against a brandished sword, and know that feeling of your knees buckling under you. Now you know that fragility is within you. Strength is the fight you face now. Walk away, soldier. Dignified, and head held high, walk away.

 

Think, all the visions you gave yourself were of raised rum glasses and celebrations of grandeur. Would that have been your last battle then? Would you have been capable of more? Are you now more capable of greatness, or less? Is this what you want to be? To be broken down by your own visions. They were only your visions. They are not coming true, despite how you may feebly attempt to claw back at them. Did you not see that your javelin went nowhere near your mark? Know your powers, know they are limited. Know that here you are not to fight anymore. It was never supposed to be a fight.

 

Look, look at the words that pour out. Weren’t you beating yourself down, grappling at prior glories, trying to regain your footing and realizing that it was almost out of reach? Look at the page now. Look at what is there. Perhaps the hellhounds are part of your Golden Compass. For you to harness your powers you need that burning fuel to move it. It is here. Harness it. Relinquish that you now have the gateway to your pinnacle. No, the trophy was not meant to be yours, but glory is in the fight. And there, in that endeavour, all your glories would have flushed down an infinite black hole.

 

Breathe in, give yourself the composure to walk on. Soldier on if you must. Find that vein that needs to be severed for the poison to flow out. Let it flow out. It may take days, weeks, even months to recover. Was it not just a few moons ago that a similar trek was gone through? It is a painful stretch of road, and you are in no picture of health, but soldier on. Soon there will no longer be that pang of icy scalding. You will no longer yearn for what you cannot have. You will make it through this, and pave the way to greater glories. Your scars are your honor, your bruises your reminders to keep moving, your thirst your drive forward, your tears your reminder of being human.

Non-sense-ical

If there was no battle, then why do I feel like I’ve lost?

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Perhaps invisibility is a pain we all feel.

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Who would’ve thought that space could sear through the toughest of souls.

***********************************************************

 

 

 

Starry starry night.

I wish upon thee tonight.

Take away the shallow shivers.

The awe of the silhouette.

Make the shadow go away.

Cravings, please find your path.

Divergence into the light.

Disappear please, oh tremors.

You make each step feel like a fight.

If I had just one wish tonight,

Let me see in translucence.

Clear the fog that blocks my vision.

Return to me wisdom.

Return to me the level skull.

Return to me the cast off strength.

No, not the strength.

I would not wish to erase that plunder

The flutter that once shook the seas

But give me vision

Give me the blades I used to step upon

The shards of glass that I tread upon.

The menacing glare that was within.

What I cannot gain I cannot lose.

Please take away this defeat I did not face.

I was not defeated.

I was not to gain.

All I was, was the passing of the sun.

But the night is the one that stays.

If I may, wish upon the star tonight,

I wish to gain just this one little token.

But I have already been granted too much.

Scar tissue is stronger that pampered skin.

Then I am indeed scarred.