It was a plain-looking door, adorned only by a plaque at eye-level. Everyday, scores of people walked by, never paying attention for nothing stands out of the ordinary. Yet behind that door with the small plaque, lost souls have found hope. Within the four walls is a space of refuge, a weekly haven for those who have been mislaid from the journey called life.
The plaque outside is engraved with, "Counselling".
Sunday, August 31
Conversation With a Snake. Pt. 1
I was walking along the woods one day when I stumbled upon a snake. It was sitting quite comfortably a good metre away from where I was; tail tightly wound around a fallen branch; looking passively in the distance. It was a dirty-green with a pattern of alternating black and white stripes on its belly and a nonchalent air about it.
"Halt! Go no further stranger, for the path ahead is not for one like you," a hollow voice rang in my ears. I spun around, half-expecting an old man but there was no one around. And I looked back at the snake, wondering if it could be him.
" 'Tis I that speaks to you. Do not be alarmed for I mean no harm, I am nothing but a snake tasked with warning foolish mortal fools like you from venturing further than you should"
Throughout that, its lips hardly moved. Blood rushed to my head for I was truly experiencing something out of the ordinary! A talking snake! Feeling slightly giddy, I asked, "How can such a creature like you exist? I am but taking a little stroll in the woods, what possible danger could I be in? Please let me be. Your sudden intrusion has been quite a shock to me and I'm left wondering if this is real or imagined."
"You mortals are all the same; never heeding advice, always thinking you are never wrong. Yes, I am as real as you in this imaginary world and I am standing before you to warn you from going any further. Turn back now. But if you do not listen, I will just leave you as you are. Your life is no concern of mine! I'm just fulfilling my task, passed down long ago by my father and his father before him."
Impatient to get on my way, the surrealism of this situation slowly evaporating into the hot, humid air, I said, "Forgive me for I see no danger ahead, whatsoever. I'll be going on my way now, iit's been a surprise and a pleasure speaking to a creature like you. So long, stranger!"
With that, I bypassed the snake and its penetrating eyes, walking further into the beckoning arms of the trees ahead; I could hear it slithering away on its leather stomach, what danger could befall me?
I was walking along the woods one day when I stumbled upon a snake. It was sitting quite comfortably a good metre away from where I was; tail tightly wound around a fallen branch; looking passively in the distance. It was a dirty-green with a pattern of alternating black and white stripes on its belly and a nonchalent air about it.
"Halt! Go no further stranger, for the path ahead is not for one like you," a hollow voice rang in my ears. I spun around, half-expecting an old man but there was no one around. And I looked back at the snake, wondering if it could be him.
" 'Tis I that speaks to you. Do not be alarmed for I mean no harm, I am nothing but a snake tasked with warning foolish mortal fools like you from venturing further than you should"
Throughout that, its lips hardly moved. Blood rushed to my head for I was truly experiencing something out of the ordinary! A talking snake! Feeling slightly giddy, I asked, "How can such a creature like you exist? I am but taking a little stroll in the woods, what possible danger could I be in? Please let me be. Your sudden intrusion has been quite a shock to me and I'm left wondering if this is real or imagined."
"You mortals are all the same; never heeding advice, always thinking you are never wrong. Yes, I am as real as you in this imaginary world and I am standing before you to warn you from going any further. Turn back now. But if you do not listen, I will just leave you as you are. Your life is no concern of mine! I'm just fulfilling my task, passed down long ago by my father and his father before him."
Impatient to get on my way, the surrealism of this situation slowly evaporating into the hot, humid air, I said, "Forgive me for I see no danger ahead, whatsoever. I'll be going on my way now, iit's been a surprise and a pleasure speaking to a creature like you. So long, stranger!"
With that, I bypassed the snake and its penetrating eyes, walking further into the beckoning arms of the trees ahead; I could hear it slithering away on its leather stomach, what danger could befall me?
Sunday, August 24
Spent the whole of last night and 2 hours to create this little picture. It's been a while since I've created graphics on my comp. Enjoy. Just an experiment in the whole 3D abstract art commonly seen on deviantart.
link:03./kraken
link:03./kraken
My muse left me for a long time, let's hope it's back now.
A tiring week, a long 30 hour exercise; deprived of sleep, water and a loss of appetite. An unlucky week; lost an equipment, signed 2 extra weekend duties and always being picked to do things that people refused to do. At the end of it, I try to keep an optimistic outlook - that things will change once this week is through. Things always change.
* * *
Poetic moments.
Exhausted. Tactical halt before an objective, we gather under a canopy of trees, mosquito coils passing around, flies buzzing around our stinking bodies. I half-lie, looking above. The setting sun casts a golden glow on my face; a slight breeze causes the leaves above to sway, orange and green, against a blue, blue sky. Crickets in the distance, dirt on my face. Despite all the depressing things in the world, somehow I find a little peace in this moment; letting nature diffuse into my being, letting go of all worries and retaining this one beautiful moment.
Night falls. Everyone's apparently tired, no one bothers even to be tactical anymore. Not even the instructors. So we gather by the side of the dirt track, sitting haphazardly. Mosquito coils passing around as usual. The night sky is devoid of clouds but full of stars. Infinitesimal bodies of light, devourers of lesser beings, provider of life, center of planets. I try to spot constellations even though I have had no concrete knowledge of them. And I know she would have loved to stare at the sky like this with me, patiently pointing them out to me. A picture of future happiness perhaps.
A tiring week, a long 30 hour exercise; deprived of sleep, water and a loss of appetite. An unlucky week; lost an equipment, signed 2 extra weekend duties and always being picked to do things that people refused to do. At the end of it, I try to keep an optimistic outlook - that things will change once this week is through. Things always change.
Poetic moments.
Exhausted. Tactical halt before an objective, we gather under a canopy of trees, mosquito coils passing around, flies buzzing around our stinking bodies. I half-lie, looking above. The setting sun casts a golden glow on my face; a slight breeze causes the leaves above to sway, orange and green, against a blue, blue sky. Crickets in the distance, dirt on my face. Despite all the depressing things in the world, somehow I find a little peace in this moment; letting nature diffuse into my being, letting go of all worries and retaining this one beautiful moment.
Night falls. Everyone's apparently tired, no one bothers even to be tactical anymore. Not even the instructors. So we gather by the side of the dirt track, sitting haphazardly. Mosquito coils passing around as usual. The night sky is devoid of clouds but full of stars. Infinitesimal bodies of light, devourers of lesser beings, provider of life, center of planets. I try to spot constellations even though I have had no concrete knowledge of them. And I know she would have loved to stare at the sky like this with me, patiently pointing them out to me. A picture of future happiness perhaps.
Sunday, August 10
Saturday, August 2
Dreamscape. A lush emerald green field; grass swaying in the light breeze; cobalt blue sky above. A bunch of teenagers having a game of soccer, perspiring under the hot sun; beads of sweats on brown skin. A juxataposition of colors, a blurring of movement; a single snow-white soccer ball being kicked around. I stand by the side of the field watching this game, my emotions sway at every move the players make. I long to join them, to be like them: carefree; smiling. Sun above beats relentlessly on my back but I keep on watching. Every kick, every header, I rejoice when a goal is scored; my elation and joy limited by the white demarcations on the field. I do not belong with them. I am but a spectator in all this. Their laughter, ever-permeating into my conscious, echoes of a past life.
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