Does time leave any space for regrets? As reality flashes forward, its celerity unmatched by your cognition, you find yourself stranded in a loop, as you struggle to correct your actions at a moment in the past but find yourself powerless against the mighty forces that drive you forward. Humans are mere pawns in the hands of greater forces; we exist in a reality where we can only move along with the flow, despite our delusions of control. What role, then, do we play in this ravaged land where peace and serenity find no home?
Oftentimes people speak of the art of fate-shaping, as though it could be practiced by us. Does the fact that we have consciousness necessitate that we have power over what we think and do? Over the years, philosophers and their ilk have conceived many theories, from the extreme rigidity of hard determinism to the rational freedom of libertarianism. We have explored countless possibilities in a bid to unveil the secret behind our presence in this unsightly world, where we are more often than not stripped of the power to be one with the self. Then again, how does one define the self in the first place? If we were brought into this world to be toyed around with, could it be that what we deem a flop is actually our true self? In the philosophy of self, what is it that truly crafts our identity?
It is, at times, laughable how we are so inclined to believe in our selves. It is true that the fact that we are is the only assurance of existence, even as a figment of a greater being's imagination. Is it therefore paramount to know that we are?
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Monday, December 20, 2010
thoughtless ramblings
The year is drawing close to an end.
2010 has been, of sorts, a really eventful period for me. The transit from a junior college to a polytechnic, the people who have come and gone in my life as well as the personal experiences that have crafted a part of my reflection have all culminated in a rapid and tumultuous year. The mud that had sunk as I trudged along the solitary field left me no time for a breather as I raced against the threat of being consumed entirely in shades of brown--the brown that ran along the trail up to a series of wooden fences that barbed wires hugged securely. It was this year, amid all the chaos and internal tempest, that I found the grit to break the wooden boards despite the iron snake that crawled around the wood eating into my skin, hungry for the red droplets that trickled elegantly down my body. You could almost say that it was a work of art, one that held many meanings but described only one thing--life and its eternal process.
In a year, many things can happen. As we grow with time, and the numbers that represent our age increase, our perspectives shift--but not necessarily for the better. Life seems to whirl endlessly around us, as an unseen force dictates that we continue to evolve--and as we do, others do as well. It is a vicious cycle, but a beautiful one, if we learn to appreciate ourselves for who we are. That is the first step. We are never certain of ourselves, because we are changing constantly, our blood flowing in rhythm to the majestic wheel of time. It is not a sin to be different from others, and it is definitely not a sin to be different from who you were.
However, even as life moves on, certain things hold fast. Meanings come in every shape, formed at the slightest nuance; those that do not agree lead to a whole new path, dictated by what that refuses to change. These are the ideas that give the whole sense of an individual to a person and all that goes on in life as a result. It is what we believe in and choose to fight for that defines us; it is this that counts. Given that there is no true selflessness, is selfishness fundamentally a bad thing? The distinction between the motives behind our actions shrouds itself in a nebulous mist.
Life is never clear, but sometimes we must pretend that it is like crystal.
2010 has been, of sorts, a really eventful period for me. The transit from a junior college to a polytechnic, the people who have come and gone in my life as well as the personal experiences that have crafted a part of my reflection have all culminated in a rapid and tumultuous year. The mud that had sunk as I trudged along the solitary field left me no time for a breather as I raced against the threat of being consumed entirely in shades of brown--the brown that ran along the trail up to a series of wooden fences that barbed wires hugged securely. It was this year, amid all the chaos and internal tempest, that I found the grit to break the wooden boards despite the iron snake that crawled around the wood eating into my skin, hungry for the red droplets that trickled elegantly down my body. You could almost say that it was a work of art, one that held many meanings but described only one thing--life and its eternal process.
In a year, many things can happen. As we grow with time, and the numbers that represent our age increase, our perspectives shift--but not necessarily for the better. Life seems to whirl endlessly around us, as an unseen force dictates that we continue to evolve--and as we do, others do as well. It is a vicious cycle, but a beautiful one, if we learn to appreciate ourselves for who we are. That is the first step. We are never certain of ourselves, because we are changing constantly, our blood flowing in rhythm to the majestic wheel of time. It is not a sin to be different from others, and it is definitely not a sin to be different from who you were.
However, even as life moves on, certain things hold fast. Meanings come in every shape, formed at the slightest nuance; those that do not agree lead to a whole new path, dictated by what that refuses to change. These are the ideas that give the whole sense of an individual to a person and all that goes on in life as a result. It is what we believe in and choose to fight for that defines us; it is this that counts. Given that there is no true selflessness, is selfishness fundamentally a bad thing? The distinction between the motives behind our actions shrouds itself in a nebulous mist.
Life is never clear, but sometimes we must pretend that it is like crystal.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
A shallow musing and happening
Whenever I take a step into the muddy lane of memories, I see your unadulterated face amid the flowing corruption, untainted by time.
I am waiting for The Next Big Thing in my life to happen. Right now, it's so mundane and terrifyingly repetitive that I think I might just work on something crazy to add spice to life.
In fact, in a bid to ameliorate my bitter boredom, I reached home at 3 AM this morning. I went out at 10 PM last night, on tiny wheels that spun heartily to propel me forward, and traipsed a good length before heading home. I wasn't alone, of course, as Kiang Siang and Qin Ying were my comrades in the short conquest. And, we, in resemblance of The Three Musketeers, braved the midnight's challenge with unyielding tenacity. Well, that would be the case if you consider going in circles, attempting to resist the temptation of food and settling down at random intervals a difficult struggle.
Or am I simply too blind and superficial to regard the importance of whatever I'm supposed to be doing by considering it dull?
By what I'm supposed to do, I mean three proposals and two presentations.
I am waiting for The Next Big Thing in my life to happen. Right now, it's so mundane and terrifyingly repetitive that I think I might just work on something crazy to add spice to life.
In fact, in a bid to ameliorate my bitter boredom, I reached home at 3 AM this morning. I went out at 10 PM last night, on tiny wheels that spun heartily to propel me forward, and traipsed a good length before heading home. I wasn't alone, of course, as Kiang Siang and Qin Ying were my comrades in the short conquest. And, we, in resemblance of The Three Musketeers, braved the midnight's challenge with unyielding tenacity. Well, that would be the case if you consider going in circles, attempting to resist the temptation of food and settling down at random intervals a difficult struggle.
Or am I simply too blind and superficial to regard the importance of whatever I'm supposed to be doing by considering it dull?
By what I'm supposed to do, I mean three proposals and two presentations.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Here is a socket
So, in the midst of signing certificates and securing sockets, I've decided to come here for a little while.
-head spins in all directions-
I honestly doubt that anyone ever comes here any more, though, but it doesn't really matter much now. There's this thing about speaking to the world that makes you kind of fuzzy inside, as though you're shattering the very premise of your privacy in doing so.
Anyway, it's a holiday today, but I guess like all the JC2 people preparing for their 'A' Levels, I am not allowed to stop and take a breather as well. In the hectic pace of school (read: people who live and breathe Java, if you catch my drift), I've trudged along unwillingly into an arena with competitors who almost literally radiate death. And, all other factors considered, I'm at the losing end. All these facts make life a living nightmare, as though I'm whirling in a maelstrom of darkness with manifestations of evil trying to drag me into the storm's core and reduce me to little more than specks of molecules. Unfortunately, while I don't have a family to feed, I appreciate staying alive at the moment.
In other news, homework is aplenty, and lunch is beckoning.
-head spins in all directions-
I honestly doubt that anyone ever comes here any more, though, but it doesn't really matter much now. There's this thing about speaking to the world that makes you kind of fuzzy inside, as though you're shattering the very premise of your privacy in doing so.
Anyway, it's a holiday today, but I guess like all the JC2 people preparing for their 'A' Levels, I am not allowed to stop and take a breather as well. In the hectic pace of school (read: people who live and breathe Java, if you catch my drift), I've trudged along unwillingly into an arena with competitors who almost literally radiate death. And, all other factors considered, I'm at the losing end. All these facts make life a living nightmare, as though I'm whirling in a maelstrom of darkness with manifestations of evil trying to drag me into the storm's core and reduce me to little more than specks of molecules. Unfortunately, while I don't have a family to feed, I appreciate staying alive at the moment.
In other news, homework is aplenty, and lunch is beckoning.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
At last
I woke up very early in the morning today for the release of results.
After a gruelling semester in Nanyang Polytechnic with eight modules, which were inclusive of a project that merited the most credit points, the results have finally come out. While my results are fairly desirable, I am somewhat disappointed in Computing Mathematics, which was a subject that I should have aced in but for some unknown reason made a mess of. Regardless, I guess that I have no rights to complain, seeing that I have done considerably well to warrant a place in the Director's List. Now that the first semester has come to a conclusion, I am prepared for the coming semester that will prove to be much more arduous.
In other news, I am eagerly anticipating the line-up of events that will take place over the next few weeks, despite the fact that they threaten to make my life so much more busy. Extra-curricular lessons aside, plans are also in place for a trip to Genting with some friends before school reopens in approximately three weeks' time.
Also, I have recently fallen in love with Kenji Wu's (吴克群) vast assortment of songs. While many of them have a melancholic tinge to them, they have a sort of calming effect on the mind, which is precisely what I require in my recent turmoil of emotions.
After a gruelling semester in Nanyang Polytechnic with eight modules, which were inclusive of a project that merited the most credit points, the results have finally come out. While my results are fairly desirable, I am somewhat disappointed in Computing Mathematics, which was a subject that I should have aced in but for some unknown reason made a mess of. Regardless, I guess that I have no rights to complain, seeing that I have done considerably well to warrant a place in the Director's List. Now that the first semester has come to a conclusion, I am prepared for the coming semester that will prove to be much more arduous.
In other news, I am eagerly anticipating the line-up of events that will take place over the next few weeks, despite the fact that they threaten to make my life so much more busy. Extra-curricular lessons aside, plans are also in place for a trip to Genting with some friends before school reopens in approximately three weeks' time.
Also, I have recently fallen in love with Kenji Wu's (吴克群) vast assortment of songs. While many of them have a melancholic tinge to them, they have a sort of calming effect on the mind, which is precisely what I require in my recent turmoil of emotions.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
It beckons again
I have returned, and this time I am back for good.
In the daily mantle of an IT whiz, I have almost forgotten the joys of writing--the creative lines that thread the fundamental fabric and lay the groundwork for my words, the translation of amorphous ideas into concrete thoughts that are represented in speech and the sense of satisfaction arising from how the paragraphs weave together so intricately and magically to impart meaning to the words that speak. Indeed, I miss the thought process that accompanies the art of writing, where the mind seeks to be at peace with itself to draw on the spirit's essence, striving to induce a natural sense of balance to the words that are pieces of a greater puzzle. It is a painstaking task to place the pieces in the right manner and the right positions, but upon its completion one can admire the elegance that colours the product, bound by the meticulous arrangement of each individual morsel of meaning.
In other news, I have taken up a part-time job as an IT Helpdesk Staff for basic networking support and troubleshooting issues. However, despite the admirably decent pay, I am not sure if I have the energy to sustain working at the stipulated hours due to a prognostication of a more hectic schedule that will be fraught with academic commitments and the like. Regardless, before I can be fully assured of any devastating change in my everyday schedule, I will stay on in my current job.
That aside, for those who do not know yet, my grandfather (on my mother's side) officially passed away last Monday. Last week was the wake, and as stricken by grief as I was I had to stay strong as a pillar of support for my family members and relatives. I was never one to cry my heart out, although the shadow of depression creeps upon me at times. In all honesty, I miss my grandfather a lot, but life continues to move on in its perennial cycle, and I am sure that my grandfather is in a much better place now, away from the miseries of the secular world. I pray for his afterlife.
On a final note, I think that I am turning into the contemporary manifestation of a geek, given my avid pursuant of knowledge in certain conventionally defined areas of a geek.
In the daily mantle of an IT whiz, I have almost forgotten the joys of writing--the creative lines that thread the fundamental fabric and lay the groundwork for my words, the translation of amorphous ideas into concrete thoughts that are represented in speech and the sense of satisfaction arising from how the paragraphs weave together so intricately and magically to impart meaning to the words that speak. Indeed, I miss the thought process that accompanies the art of writing, where the mind seeks to be at peace with itself to draw on the spirit's essence, striving to induce a natural sense of balance to the words that are pieces of a greater puzzle. It is a painstaking task to place the pieces in the right manner and the right positions, but upon its completion one can admire the elegance that colours the product, bound by the meticulous arrangement of each individual morsel of meaning.
In other news, I have taken up a part-time job as an IT Helpdesk Staff for basic networking support and troubleshooting issues. However, despite the admirably decent pay, I am not sure if I have the energy to sustain working at the stipulated hours due to a prognostication of a more hectic schedule that will be fraught with academic commitments and the like. Regardless, before I can be fully assured of any devastating change in my everyday schedule, I will stay on in my current job.
That aside, for those who do not know yet, my grandfather (on my mother's side) officially passed away last Monday. Last week was the wake, and as stricken by grief as I was I had to stay strong as a pillar of support for my family members and relatives. I was never one to cry my heart out, although the shadow of depression creeps upon me at times. In all honesty, I miss my grandfather a lot, but life continues to move on in its perennial cycle, and I am sure that my grandfather is in a much better place now, away from the miseries of the secular world. I pray for his afterlife.
On a final note, I think that I am turning into the contemporary manifestation of a geek, given my avid pursuant of knowledge in certain conventionally defined areas of a geek.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The stairway to Heaven that leads to Hell
A layer of serenity pervades the night's air.
Recent events have been culminating in a turmoil of unimaginable proportions, and the massive whirl of pressure has been driving me to a state of frantic and frenzied desperation. The constant expectations that I associate with my own work have been efficient in pushing me to strive harder for my academics, but at the same time they have been equally deadly as a demon that gnaws at the fragile human beneath the seemingly adamant shell. While I ascend the stairs to ride to the top of my dreams, I am afraid of falling backwards and tumbling to a horrid end at the foot of the poison-laced steps. The fear is so subtle yet tangible, but so surreal yet real. In fact, I think that I am launching myself towards a pit-hole of endless depth where doom beckons to me.
School has been a breeding ground for my aloofness of late. As my mind is constantly preoccupied with certain issues that consume much of my energy, I am left with a walking zombie on the exterior as I simply go along with the flow of the day. Sometimes I really wish that I am able to detach myself from the consistent struggles that transpire within the reality that fixates itself in my brain's central cerebral faculty, which effectively cuts off any chances of my being able to concentrate on more pressing and practical issues in the movement of everyday life in school. Indeed, what astounds me sometimes is the magnitude of the thoughts that hold much of my life in their clawed hands. The impact that they bring about over my mental state is simply staggering, so to speak, as I fight to be rid of them. It is a tough battle, but I will persist nonetheless.
As I revel in the rare quietude of the night's solitude, I brace myself for the coming darkness that will soon be darker than night itself.
Recent events have been culminating in a turmoil of unimaginable proportions, and the massive whirl of pressure has been driving me to a state of frantic and frenzied desperation. The constant expectations that I associate with my own work have been efficient in pushing me to strive harder for my academics, but at the same time they have been equally deadly as a demon that gnaws at the fragile human beneath the seemingly adamant shell. While I ascend the stairs to ride to the top of my dreams, I am afraid of falling backwards and tumbling to a horrid end at the foot of the poison-laced steps. The fear is so subtle yet tangible, but so surreal yet real. In fact, I think that I am launching myself towards a pit-hole of endless depth where doom beckons to me.
School has been a breeding ground for my aloofness of late. As my mind is constantly preoccupied with certain issues that consume much of my energy, I am left with a walking zombie on the exterior as I simply go along with the flow of the day. Sometimes I really wish that I am able to detach myself from the consistent struggles that transpire within the reality that fixates itself in my brain's central cerebral faculty, which effectively cuts off any chances of my being able to concentrate on more pressing and practical issues in the movement of everyday life in school. Indeed, what astounds me sometimes is the magnitude of the thoughts that hold much of my life in their clawed hands. The impact that they bring about over my mental state is simply staggering, so to speak, as I fight to be rid of them. It is a tough battle, but I will persist nonetheless.
As I revel in the rare quietude of the night's solitude, I brace myself for the coming darkness that will soon be darker than night itself.
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