Two men seek a great treasure.

Both go their own ways in seeking out what they desire, following what they feel is best in their hearts.

They end up in entirely different routes on their journey.

One ends up in the dessert.

The other finds himself in the vast ocean.

Who was on the right path and who was further away?

-------

As men are different, so too are their ways. As truth is definite, so too the paths leading to it.

-------

Is Truth definite?

Yes.

Is there a fixed Truth among man?

No, I do not believe so.

To be spiritual is an attempt to see the world in its intended reality. To see a perspective of this world which the eye alone cannot witness. Instead, the heart itself is used to feel, to see and to hear, and in doing so, to perceive a truth that goes beyond the surface.

To be lacking in the spirit would be to see the world in its reality, but only with the mind of logic and pure rationality, without the sense of "feeling". It reminds me of chasing after desires that have no lasting worth. A habit of those who seek to fill the void in their hearts with the things of this world.

To be over-spiritual... is to see what is in ones imagination, puffing it up, and proposing it as reality. The defining quality of over-spiritualism would be the exaggeration of the mind that seems to supersede the normal intended purpose of things. To make something appear to be more than it is.

-------

Those lacking in spirit are oft characterised as people who chase after objects of material value that have little worth in the afterlife. The types who seem to place integrity lower on the list. The types who use their bodies for their own devices. It has little to do with religion. Everything to do with principle.

Those who are over-spiritual are oft characterised as the religious who go through extra lengths to credit everything in their lives to something supernatural. They fail to see the world as it is and instead make of it what they imagine to be something much more grand. The danger here lies in the distortion of truth to suit their conceived notions.

-------

Are we guilty of being either?

Tis not to say that the world is simply mundane. In fact, it is so much in its ordinary state. No need for embellishments. It is beautiful simply because. Something that must be felt, not studied. Stand silent and behold.

Charcoal

I think it is clear to me now.

Why am I expecting an explosion when I know that's not what I'm looking for?

So let me tell you a story about my dear friend, Vacillate.

Vacillate was out, shopping for supplies for a BBQ later in the week.

He went to the charcoal section, and took a look at all the different grades of charcoal that were heaped in stacks in the corner of the not-so-super supermarket.

Vacillate noticed a peculiar thing. All these bloody worthless chunks of black rock (which legend has it came from burnt and compressed ancient wood) had different prices despite all of them being...well, chunks of black rock!!

Almost immediately however, Vacillate noticed something else. On one particular set of bags, the packaging had labels describing the efficiency and quick ignition of its fuel. And hey, they looked the best out of the lot. The packaging was eye-catching. It had the right combination of colours. And a good choice of font. Compared to the other bags of coal which were...trashy, crappy, old brown papered packaging that looked like it was designed during the Industrial Revolution. And let me tell you my friend, aesthetics plays a big part in product placement for the consumer (so true.)

Best of all? That outstandingly designed bag of charcoal was the cheapest. Yes, the cheapest! Vacillate couldn't believe it! And he was too stupid to ponder about it too.

So he bought the cheapest of them, since hey, why would chunks of black rock make a difference anyway? Only a moron (or worse, a rich man's son) would be stupid enough to buy the higher priced coal.

Thinking he had made a good deal from it, Vacillate was rather pleased with himself. Good job, moron.

*Fast forward to the actual BBQ*

Vacillate brought his bag of cheapo-yet-asthetically-pleasing bag of coal. He was ready for some serious barbecuing.

-------

Btw. Side track a bit. I know BBQ stand for barbecue. But the word barbecue doesn't have any Q in it. It's just because "cue" sounds like Q. I mean...seriously! I know it makes sense but yet it doesn't seem right! Does anyone get me here???

-------

*AHEM*

So, as I was saying, he was ready for some burninating of carcasses and various body parts of deceased animals into some delicious grub.

And as he wished, so he did! He started the fire excellently and all was well...

For an hour.

Then his fire started to die out. Ooookay, well no prob. He still had half a bag of fuel. Pour it on baby.

Then another hour, and again it died out. Dang. He was running out of fuel!

Cut the long story short (and because I am getting tired, its already 2.15am) the BBQ got a whole lot shittier because of the standard of the coal.

So what happened? Let me break it down for you.

Vacillate had been deceived by fancy packaging. The price should have been a telltale sign but he was too distracted by the aesthetics to discern. The cheap-and-attractive bag of coal burned strong and passionately, but it had no stamina to maintain itself. It turns out, the other bags of coal required more investments for a good reason. Good coal takes a longer time to ignite, but it is made to last. The packaging may look crappy, but like many things that stand the test of time, they don't rely on looks because inner quality shines without trying. And Vacillate had to learn his lesson the hard way.

-------

So.

How many times have you been let down by a fire that you thought would have lasted, but failed epically?

I know it's happened to me lots of times.

And looking back, it seems obvious, if I would have only discerned and not rushed into things.

What I am looking for, is not an explosive burst.

What I would like, is a perseverant ember.

One that won't die on me simply because its nature is not meant to last.

One that I won't regret putting effort into.

-------

How do you know then, if the choice you made is right?

You have to try it.

See whats good for you.

And learn from it each time.

I admit that I have never cried with such sorrow till I knew You.

Lord Jesus, guide me.

Doubt

Sometimes late at night I wonder to myself if a lasting relationship is possible for me.

And at the back of my mind, the word is "no."

-

No, stop bluffing yourself cos you will never be able to move forward and you will just be as you are and you can never ever make things work cos you are just weird, you are a quirk, you dont fit with others, you dont make sense.

People may find you funny, or interesting, or a breath of fresh air, but you are a novelty and once people get sick of you and your ways then that is it, your luck is over and that is that.

So stop hoping for something to happen because it is pointless.

-

And God sends someone to remind me again...

"Doubt your doubt, before you doubt your beliefs."

And suddenly, I am saved.

-

Most times, I am clear and certain on what I want.

However, I've come to believe that it is those things which make me uncertain, that are most important.

Something is wrong with me.

I wake up and I feel...happy.

It's similar to the feeling of waking up to a lovely dream. But unlike in the past, I don't feel cheated. I don't feel like its a big joke.

There is some kind of excitement within me. It gives me some sort of energy, that I can do things. Like there's some promise to the future.

I hope this isn't just some passing sensation thats caused by superficial events.

This night I feel like I want her to haunt me again.

And yet the feeling hits that it will never happen that way again. Not in the same way I let it wash over me in the past.

It is that nostalgia, that reminder of the past that floated by like a whiff of perfume and bam! - the memories come back.

But I am stronger now.

This is the first time in a long time I really feel like telling someone "I will miss you" and yet not be able to say it.

Semesterstone

Am done with my first major milestone of my first year in Lasalle.

Finished with the summative feedback, where they grade each students progress throughout the first semester after looking through our project works and journaling.

Honestly, my course in Lasalle is a lot more 'chill' than my course in Temasek. I feel like I have so much more free time. Or maybe now it could be that I am just more efficient, with me being done with 3 years of design school and 2 years of army discipline.

So, I feel like I am really slack. But the grades I got were not bad.

I got a "Good" grade for my project works as well as for my Creative Process Journaling.

A "Good" grade is sort of the grade to say "you are doing pretty alright, maintain this. but there are ways you can improve yourself", while a grade lower (satisfactory) would be to say "okay you made it, but you are at the borderline". Why borderline? Because lower than satisfactory is the "Unsatisfactory" grade, which is literally labeled with fine print at the bottom with the words: "Redeemable fail".

I expected myself to get what I did. Because any lower and that would not be justice for the effort and quality of work I know I put in. Any higher, and that would be injustice for all the things I did not do or was too lazy to make it into an excellent piece of work.

The lecturers were fair, thorough, and they knew what the students were doing, and more importantly, trying to do with their work.

I appreciate how the lecturers do not look at just the end result. The process from start to finish is just as important, if not more so than just the finish, when it came to the grading. I cannot be entirely certain that they remember every students work but it definitely feels that way - that they follow and know their students work individually.

Now after grading, the task is to keep in mind their suggested ways of improving my work and look forward to the next semester of school.

I have no more classes till the 10th of January. That is about 2 months of holidays. I have not had such a long break ever since... Well, ever since I enlisted into the army! Really, I am not certain what I am doing to do for 2 months.

-------

Thank God for the skills and talents that he has gifted me. Let it be a constant reminder that without Him, I have nothing, and so I should be humble and never boast of these gifts.

Let it also be a constant reminder that my actions are accountable. I am a helper of my fellow man, and though I may be lacking or unaware at times, may I continue to improve myself and continue to assist and be a friend to those in need. Forgive me for the times where I did not do so, for the times I thought of just myself.

Once again, I thank God for all the things which have happened and are yet to happen, regardless of whatever awaits.

NOT DEAD.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN.

This blog is under the blogspot domain.

Yes. Blogspot.

I know, I know...Blogspot is so 2006. Not cool like tumblr. *snort*

And...

I know, I know, I haven't written anything worth reading in a long time.

Well when I was in the army, I kept all my thoughts and feelings by journaling in a Little Black Book.

It was nice, to sit down and collect my thoughts and channel them unto a medium of ink and fibre.

But now that I am out of the army, my goodness, I havent even opened that LBB since late august.

Because...Army gave me lots of time to sit down and do nothing.

So do I mean I do not have enough time now that I am out? Definitely not! But don't you know there are so many better distractions??

Well, the chaotic and tumultuous world of being a civilian isn't as PEACEFUL as the army my dear readers! (Oh the irony!)

So like times before, I happen to read through the history of my dear old and dreadfully out-of-style blog, I get that feeling of nostalgia once again (such a troublesome emotion don't you agree?). So here I am. Typing away.

So.

How have you been lately?

-I've been bloody damned lazy.

What ya been up to since leaving the army?

-In LASALLE now. 3 years to go.

How is school?

-School is alright. Learning lots of new things which I am really enjoying. But damn I am so lazy and that complicates things.

What are you studying now?

-Study...? That word sounds familiar, I think I heard some sad sap mentioning it together with that other word...what was it...EXAMS??

Okay fine, what are you doing in school then?

-Design Communication. Basically, to communicate through design. I know, so deep right? Mmm

Any hot designer chicks?

-Haiz. You sad business/engineering/science students. But seriously, there are some freaky looking posers. I mean...fashionably confident people. Yeah.

Any hot designer guys?

- Are you flirting with me? *Gets stabbed in the eye*

---

Okay, I think that's enough for now. Till next time.

If I am a good man, I will stay away from her.

If she is a good woman, she will ignore me.

It is difficult to be good.

The Troublesomely Fond Past

The truth is, the memories will always be with me.

And I will keep resisting some, simply because I have to.

And I will always embrace some, simply because I cannot not.


Its amazing how i have only 1 life and in this 1 life of mine, these other peoples with their likewise singular existence have affected me eternally forever and ever till the day I pass and beyond.

And I will never forget; I cannot.


The boys, as we were.

The girls, as I thought I knew.


The young men who were far from men.

The young ladies who confused me.


In another 5 years, I wonder.

As tough as wet cardboard

3 days ago on Tuesday, was the first time I have ever been in a fight. A physical one involving beating up my opponent with a pugil stick (google it).

Okay, I should correct myself. It's not really a fight. It's sparring. Between my army buddy and me.

But still, it was the first time I ever threw myself (literally) at someone to smash and bash his head in.

Here is what I learnt.

Watching boxing and martial arts matches can be fun. And the athletes in them can go on fighting for quite a few minutes each match without throwing in the towel.

But 30 seconds swinging that bloody bolster of a stick was tough work! In fact I felt it felt equivalent to sprinting 100 metres with weights on my body.

By 1m30secs, I was completely winded. If you know what SOC is, it felt like I had just finished running through it. Could barely even hold my stance.

I admit, fighting my buddy was not as tough as it could have been because well...my buddy is an extremely nice fellow. He probably cannot even bear to give me a full swing of the stick despite donning thick body and head padding. So I pretty much owned him, and I am told I was really aggressive. (To make up for my otherwise normally passive state.)

I actually thought I was NOT BAD.
-

Then come to Wednesday, the 2nd time I had a sparring match.

I fought against another friend of mine. And he was alot more aggressive and powerful than my previous day opponent.

To cut it short, I pretty much got owned. It was also the first time I got smacked straight in the head so forcefully before. I made me recall how in boxing, a good solid blow to the head could knock someone flat on the mat. I could literally feel my head spin for a split second before snapping back to reality.

And worst of all, by the 1m30sec mark, I could not breath well. I could not even hold up my posture. I felt like my body was about to give way. I cannot be sure why...perhaps it was the blow to the head so early in the match, or perhaps it was the diarrhoea I had in in the morning (the fight was near 2pm), or perhaps I was exerting too much.

My partner was merciful to me. He stopped attacking when he saw I was breathless. He waited for me to recover before striking again. He constantly asked during the fight if I was alright (something was definitely wrong with me).

I got trashed. It did not matter how aggressive I was; My whole body felt weak.

More importantly it left in me another feeling. A much deeper one, not ending with my body. I was not sure what this feeling was but I was quite silent for the rest of the lesson.
-

Thursday, I woke and I recalled the fight. Recalled that feeling I had after the match.

Suddenly, I realised what it was. It was the feeling of humility in defeat. It was also the feeling of respect for the person who had bested me. I could not understand why I should have felt that way over a simple and otherwise meaningless duel.

But the fact remains, like I said. I felt it. And I could only obey that feeling.

I could only comply that I am indeed weak.
-

It made me wonder.

What could defeat mean to a man, that it could have such a profound impact?
-

Had I not been beaten, I would probably have thought myself an even better fighter than before.

In this way, defeat can be a good thing for the soul of a man.

Phantom

Like a haunting spirit, these blasted thoughts of relationships.

Its ticking me off.

Aftertaste

There was a certain girl in my life.


She was


Complex.

Dark.

Emotional.

Pessimistic.

Mysterious.

Poetic.

Artistic.

Cold.

Playful.


Always a Tease.

Full of Fear.

Composed and controlled.
& yet
Full of Strife.

Fiercely Independent

Obstinately opinionated.

Uncaring of her Lover.



A Catholic
who embraced
sorrow,
and invited
death.


one who kept me captive in my own prison,
whom i threw the key away for.

one who made me apprehend to utter the word,
"LOVE".

-

I have moved on, and yet I have not.

She lingers, but only in my mind.

-

It leaves a bad taste.

And it persists after.


But Somehow...


It cannot be washed off.

And yet it does not seem so bad then.

-

Pass me the Listerine, Extra Strong.

Not-so-sweet dreams.

It seems that every night I spend at home is the saddest night of the week.

When sweet dreams are dreamt, I find myself waking only to bitterness and sorrow.

I would lie awake feeling cheated and anguished and yet confused as to why.


Its really an irony the way this works.

Deprived

I'm beginning to feel extremely deprived.

Of what?

Of having a proper lifestyle.

I spend my weekdays in the army.

And every weekend I go home with nothing much to look forward to, usually with no plans whatsoever.

Then I book into my army camp again on Sunday.


I should do something about this...

Hopefully I'm not too lazy to bother...

Dear God.

Dear God, let my actions be directed by You. Let me be an intrument of Your love and grace.

Remind me what is real love and what is fleeting attraction. Never let me confuse the two.

Show me how to love others as You have loved me.

Help me remember that it is Your love I should seek.


Make me genuine. Make me loving. Make me wise.

Let me not be a fool to my emotions, instead, for my mind to be clear as the morning sun.

Let not the darkness of the night influence me, and keep my thoughts far from sorrow.


For everything not within my control, give me the wisdom to trust in You.

For anything my mind is muddled with, give me the clarity to discern.

For every hardship faced, give me the strength to endure.


Lord I ask these things of You for I know You are a God of greatness. In Your power and might all things are possible.

I humbly seek you for I know I am weak and foolish. Help me your servant to overcome my failings with Your Spirit.

Guide me through and show me the right path.


This I pray to You, Lord God Almighty.

Amen.

The Developed Phobia

What matters to me now is not whom I may have feelings for.

What matters to me now is that I am fearful of having such feelings.

I am afraid of loving, of showing my affections to others. I fear for what may happen and I fear for what I may lose.

And most of all, I fear my love is distorted, that it is only superficial.

-

It truly is odd, how I crave for love even though I do not dare to love.

It truly is odd, how I ask for love when I know God already loves me dearly. How I ask for having somebody in my life when I ought to know that loving God should be enough.

Sometimes I just feel like I ought to be celibate. Without a partner in my life, just serving God till the end of my days. But I know I am simply running away from my fear.


And that changes everything.