Fathoming the Intricacies of Memory & Longing

Life is funny in a satirical, almost ironic way (albeit with diluted sadism) when reminiscing on yearnings that affect us in a positive manner.

In one part or another, today or tomorrow, we break through of the phase we've grown accustomed to. We move on, we evolve; we develop, we advance.

Changes occur as the natural progression of existence.

I realize that one day, I'll leave.

As I lay in my bed, I decided to mull over thoughts that I've kept consciously suppressed until now. Thoughts that have the capacity to bring on floods of reaction, each correlating to their subsequent emotion in the plethora that will soon manifest.

I asked myself, "What will I miss when I leave this country?"

What is it of my past, that will sustain my future, when my present ceases to be current?

Of course, my social-conditioned mind pressed on about 'should' things that are societal textbook answers to such a question.

I'll miss the food, my friends, the weather and of course my family.

No.

No, I don't. I won't miss the food.
I won't miss my friends.
I won't miss the weather.

As I pondered, I surprised myself with my heartlessness, for within this context, I had absolutely no display of emotion. The sadness, or even anxiety for loss, of any of these things, did not grip my heartstrings as tightly as it should have.

Just as I was debating the monstrosity of my psychological betrayal, I looked out my window and discovered a twinge of emotion.

It was as sudden, as it was refreshing.

And that's when it all hit me.

I won't miss the food. No.

But I'll miss the times when I was hungry and I ate. I'll miss the meals we had together, the tastes that congregated during each bite. I'll miss the texture, the sight, the smell.

In short, I'll miss my personal encounters. The little things that made up my experience. The ones that we overlook so easily, brief, but the most beautiful of all.

I'll miss the shaft of sunlight that filters through my room window on a sunny morning. I'll miss the cacophony of birdsong that never fails to perk up my spirits. I'll miss the peace, the hustle and bustle, the laughter and the work.

I'll miss the caring, the talks, the touch, the presence.

I'll miss the way the leaves rustle in my garden, the sensation of grass between my toes. I'll miss the drives and the walks, and comfort of knowing the stability of my safety zone.

I'll miss the love. More importantly, I'll miss their love.



So, no.
I don't miss Malaysian food, or weather, or my old school, or my friends.

No.

What I'll miss are,
the days they had with me;
And the time I had,
with them.

An Internet Joke

Someone emailed this joke to me. You can always take it at face value, or maybe you'll find a hidden truth. :)

Intelligence

One fine day, the Ruler of a multi-cultural southeast Asian country visited the Queen of England. The Ruler, Mr. NJ, asked the British Queen "How is it that you are able maintain your sovereignty and societal peace in Britain so effectively?"

The Queen, in all her elegance, replied "I surround myself with able and intelligent people."

Mr. NJ was puzzled. "How would you know if someone is intelligent or not?"

With a flourish, the Queen summoned the then-British Prime Minister, Tony Blair, into the room.

"Mr. Blair, if one day your mother and your father gave birth to somebody, who isn't your brother or your sister, who is that person?"

Tony Blair confidently answered "Why, that would be me, of course!"

Mr. NJ later left the meeting feeling very enlightened.

The next day, Mr. NJ sent for the Deputy Ruler, Mr. MH. Putting on a serious face, Mr. NJ asked the deputy, "Mr. MH, if one day your mother and your father gave birth to somebody, who isn't your brother or your sister, who is that person?"

Mr. MH was absolutely dumbfounded. After racking his brain for a full 30 minutes, Mr. MH gave up and cried out "Please give me some time to research upon this intriguing question!"

Mr. NJ decided to give his deputy 3 days.

For 2 days and 2 nights, Mr. MH went through Wikipedia, the world's most trusted source for factual accurate information, but to no avail.

On the third day, Mr. MH dragged his feet reluctantly to the Ruler's office, afraid of the repercussions that awaited him. 15 minutes before he was to enter the office he decided to go to the gents.

By stroke of luck, as he was entering the washroom, he met a disgraced politician once involved in a sex-scandal, Mr. SL. Taking a chance, Mr. MH asked Mr. SL the same question.

"Mr. SL, if one day your mother and your father gave birth to somebody, who isn't your brother or your sister, who is that person?"

With no difficulty, Mr. SL answered confidently, "Why, obviously, it's me!"

Mr. MH could not believe his luck! He emerged from the washroom a joyful man! With springing steps, he headed towards the Ruler's office.

Mr. NJ was sitting at his desk when Mr. MH entered. Looking up from his game of computer Solitaire, Mr. NJ addressed Mr. MH.

"Have you the solution for my question?"

Mr. MH, beaming with pride, answered "The answer to that question is --- MR. SL!"

However, instead of the expected praise, Mr. MH was surprised to find Mr. NJ getting agitated.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong!" screamed Mr. NJ, "I gave you three days, and all the country's multimedia resources, plus a salary increment and a RESEARCH BUDGET of 5 MILLION USD, and you CAN'T EVEN GIVE ME THE CORRECT ANSWER?!"

Mr. MH cowered silently in the corner.

Mr. NJ continued ranting, "Even after ALL THE TENDERED PROJECTS AWARDED TO YOUR BROTHER'S BANKRUPT CONSTRUCTION COMPANY!!!... TRAVEL ALLOWANCE!!!... SIPHON!.... GST!.... TAXATION!.... blahblahblahillegalstuffblahblahblah!!!..."

This went on and on until Mr. NJ was eventually out of breath.

Exhausted, Mr. NJ decided to drop the issue. "Mr. MH, I will not punish you any further, for we are of the same, plus there was no significant monetary loss on our part."

Mr. MH was delighted and absolutely relieved!

Taking a deep breath, Mr. MH gathered up the courage to ask the Ruler, "Your Excellency, in all due respect, what could the answer be to this very confounding question? If one day your mother and your father gave birth to somebody, who isn't your brother or your sister, who is that person?""

Mr. NJ sitting straight-backed on the country's leather throne, stared at Mr. MH with eyes that shone with an unworldly intelligence, his presence stifling.

"The answer, my simple minded friend, is easy. The answer is....... Tony Blair."

Used To

I used to run around free,
in fields of yonder, bright & green.
I used to climb tall trees,
wonder at the possibilities,
that lay below like an open sea.

I used to stand on my bike,
engulfed by winds of speed & exhilaration,
Tumble down soft hills,
Face down in the mud, no reservations.

Bumps and bruises, scratches and wounds,
Non of those barred, not a reason to cocoon;
My hopes, my aspirations,
My desires, my fixations.



I used to dream big,

Because I wasn't afraid of falling.

Where is the me, I used to be?

Look What You've Done

Look What You've Done
-Jet-

Take my photo off the wall
If it just won't sing for you
'Cause all that's left has gone away
And there's nothing there for you to prove

Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh well, it seems likes such fun
Until you lose what you had won

Give me back my point of view
'Cause I just can't think for you
I can hardly hear you say
What should I do, well you choose

Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh well, it seems likes such fun
Until you lose what you had won

Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
A fool of everyone
A fool of everyone

Take my photo off the wall
If it just won't sing for you
'Cause all that's left has gone away
And there's nothing there for you to do

Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
Oh well, it seems likes such fun
Until you lose what you had won

Oh, look what you've done
You've made a fool of everyone
A fool of everyone
A fool of everyone

Open Your Eyes

If a man really WANTS you, he'll walk to the ends of the earth to get you. And if he doesn't... He's just not that into you. Sad, but real; Cruel, but true.

It's reality.

Watching these soap operas; Killing the other woman won't make him love you anymore as when she was alive.

Wake up and face the music.

Disenchanted By Insincerity

Sincerity is the virtue of one who speaks and acts truly about his or her own feelings, thoughts and desires, free from pretense or deceit.

I am sick of the insincere.

Those people, that person.

The one who says he'll call, but never does. Fucktard.

The one who says lets go out, but blows on you eventually, because OH! I just remembered, I have SOMETHING ELSE, that I FORGOT that was ALREADY PLANNED, when I planned to go out with YOU.

And it happens NOT JUST ONCE. Either you've got your balls up in a choke hold about meeting me, or your brain just happens to materialize in a dimension known as Interdimensional Plane 384: NON-EXISTENT.

The one who leaves a missed call with you ONCE, only to not contact you for God-knows how many days, then turns up at the last day saying 'I'm leaving today. Too bad couldn't catch you when I was here. You know, I DID leave ONE PATHETIC MISSED CALL during the FIFTEENTH CENTURY, but I don't think you were born yet, so it's alright I guess we'll never meet. Adios!'

Are you expecting a GUILT TRIP, mister? Think again.

Yes. Irked by Tartheads. Or maybe Annoyed by Retards. I can't make up my mind over which I should call this post, since both describe the situation so accurately.

Overall which, I've decided to labelled it in a more EMO fashion, maybe add a dash of the current state of society.

We're all disenchanted in one way or another, aren't we?

Sworn To Be Content With Loneliness

"I know you're leaving in the morning, when you wake up,

Leave me with some kind of proof, it's not a dream"

Reality brushes the tips of our senses, whispering truths we're obliged to believe, because there seems to be no other explanation concrete enough for us to lay our hopes; our dreams; our fears; on.

Corporeality lends us a shoulder to rest our tear-sodden heads when imagination does not fulfill its promises.




White room

White sheets

Is your absence my existence...