Time being~*

Do not think that time simply flies away. 

Do not understand "flying" as the only function of time. 

If time simply flew away, a separation would exist between you and time. 

So if you understand time as only passing, 

then you do not understand the time being.

To grasp this truly, every being that exists in the entire world is linked together as moments in time, 

and at the same time they exist as individual moments of time. 

Because all moments are the time being, 

they are your time being. 

- Dogen Zenji, Uji 

(from 'A Tale for the Time Being', Ruth Ozeki)

source

Learn to live in the present, to become a time being. 

The words in this novel are slowly making their way into my heart, embedding deep into it. 

Very nearly made me want to hurl it out of the train this morning.

The anger, frustration and helplessness that the protagonist experienced are gradually seeping into me.

Ijime...

Yet (and thankfully),

it also conveys messages of resilience, hope, kindness, tranquility and compassion . 

That's the beauty of this novel - at a seemingly hopeless place, you find a small, blooming flower. 

~*~*~

I should only make myself ridiculous in my own eyes if I clung to life and hugged it when it has no more to offer. 

- A Tale for the Time Being, Ruth Ozeki

This particular line (what Socrates said to Crito, according to the novel) jolted me awake this morning on my way to work. 

~*~*~

This morning I woke up feeling overwhelmed with a sense of despair. 

Don't ask me where that came from - I have absolutely no idea.

Anyhow, it completely drained the energy out of me and I had the urge to... run away. 

To think I thought reading the novel would make me feel a little better, heh. 

It's as if I were holding onto a blade with my bare hands - protecting something that's obviously hurting me, and tightening my grasp on it. 

Watching it cut deeper into my hands, 

watching the scarlet blood flow.

Held spellbound.

Trying to make sense of my life, the things that are happening, and understanding my place in the world. 

What am I really... doing to myself...?

Updates (sort of)~*

Enough of wistful entries which nobody understands (for the time being, heh)

1. Graduation Photos

the words say it all :)

another JC photoshoot tomorrow.

2. Heart-to-heart

"60% (80%) disclosed, 40% (20%) withheld"

something like that.

that's what A & I established yesterday.

Is it true that we can never fully surrender ourselves to another highly trusted party? 

That there must definitely be certain things that remain untold...?

Okay. 

Or rather, there's no need to reveal so much about yourself? 

So you don't consciously keep things to yourself; you just don't see it as necessary. 

Aloof???

Maybe, to those who feel an acute need to know e v e r y t h i n g. 

3. Ear-worm

Spotify is amazing.

Enough said.

4. Kafkaesque

Surrealistic. 

Ethereal. 

Omnipotent sense of something... dark.

Sounds like Murakami's stories.

What would we do if we lived in a world like that?

Maybe, just maybe,

we wouldn't take life so seriously. 

Since you can't make much sense out of it anyway.

5. FB

Sole purpose: to get updates on friends 

and it's also a good conduit to stalk and satisfy my voyeuristic needs. 

I'm pretty inactive there actually. 

hardly any status updates, with occasional photos to share with friends... 

other than that, my account is pretty much dead. 

Which led me to contemplate my need for fb. 

and the implications that it has had/ has on me. 

I recall reading a news article which reported on the association between fb use and dissatisfaction with life. 

we really shouldn't be too surprised, right?

It's just this innate need to compare, and make life miserable. 

Baffling, but perfectly understandable (what am I talking about). 

On a side note, my twitter account is as good as non-existent; I have no instagram (I think I created one eons ago but I can't remember my username/pw, and didn't upload anything)... I hope that doesn't make me a caveman.

6. CHANGES.

As always. 

Listening to a wider genre of music (for reason, refer to point 3) 

So wide that I can't even pinpoint a particular genre/language/artist. 

e c l e c t i c.

that's the word. 

7. Animation/ designs/ art.

You might have realized that I've been embedding pictures of japanese illustrations within my recent entries. (GOSH. I JUST PRESSED 'CTRL S'. OCCUPATIONAL HAZARD.) 

 like this:

source

It gets especially enthralling when you browse through them at night, with some soft music playing in the background (e.g., AMORE by Sakamoto Ryuichi, heh.). 

Here. That's where I go for my daily dose of surrealism.

8.

I figured I didn't upload many grad photos after all. 

Probably will pace them out so that, you know, they can help to lighten the atmosphere a little. 

lighten up, pose, smile! 

Feeble attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

and the dream continues~*

Continuing from where I left off last night,

"a particularly melancholic melody...?"

This. 

 

Listening to this music makes me want to
return to that room again.

Relive that vivid dream once more,
to experience that dangerously enticing moment.

Perhaps, then, this will be playing on the stereo.

Amore.

I had a vivid dream~*

source

"Such, is life."

After all has been said and done, we could only stare at each other in trepidation.

Yet, somewhere deep inside,
something stirred.

Pale, orange light cast upon us.
Something soft was on the stereo.
The undeniable smell of the red.

The air was still.
Too still.

~*~*

There we lay,
with unspoken exchanges.

It was electrifying.

Something was hanging in the air.
Ions? Vapourized words? Dissipated emotions? Or something more tangible than that.

Gaze was fixated on a certain spot on the ceiling,
but nothing was processed.

The wind-chime tinkled.
And the music played on...

~*~*~

Everything was so vivid,
so disturbingly lucid.

Every detail in technicolour;
every emotion as raw as it can ever be.

What's real; what's unreal?

~*~*~

Disconcerted, 

I lay in bed, thinking. 

Of the distinction between reality and fantasy. 

Of right and wrong.

Of the invisible boundary between... here and there.

What happens when you step beyond the line.

Can you return to where you previously were?

The horizon is but an imaginary line which partitions the sky and the sea. 

~*~*~

"Such, is life."

said with a sigh of resignation. 

Perhaps, there are things in life that we'll never fully comprehend; there are circumstances that we'll never have full control over.

Constant battles with our inner demons, struggling to grapple with the perturbing nature of life.

Fascinated, awed, intoxicated, transfixed, 

guilt-ridden, heart-broken. 

"It felt so good, it was so bad." 

Yes, something along that line.

~*~*~

I doubt anyone will understand what I've just written.

It's a culmination of days, weeks and months of random thoughts and emotions set free, set to wander.

Arisen from the very deep nooks and crevices of my little brain. 

Silently bubbling. 

~*~*~

What/who am I to you?  

When you looked at me, what was running through your mind? 

A particularly melancholic melody...? 

~*~*~

C'est la vie

La Luna~*

source

Moon. Luna. 

(Listening to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. Hence, the moon gif.)

Simply indescribable.

Whatever peculiar mix of emotions I'm currently experiencing. 

A little inner peace. 

A hint of weariness. 

(the 2nd movement of moonlight sonata always sounds so deceptively blissful - to me, at least.) 

Lie down on a vast green field, beneath the dark sky, enveloped in the darkness.

Illuminated only by the moon and stars. 

Listening to the soft rustling of grass in the gentle wind. 

Watching, quietly.

Nothing else matters. 

If I could, I would.

(listening to 'Clair de Lune', French for 'moonlight' by Claude Debussy.)

A sudden change of mood - from the dark and intense to light and romantic.

Perhaps, now, I'm not lying on the grass alone. 

Someone else is there, holding my hand. 

Humming 'Clair de Lune' softly,

together. 

The night would be beautiful.  

Fleur blanche~*

source

So beautiful.
Yet, fragile,
and

ephemeral.

“Life is not like water. Things in life don't necessarily flow over the shortest possible route.” 

― Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

Give me a white flower. 

Hold it close and witness its full bloom, its most beautiful moment, 

and then watch it wither away,

slowly.

Nothing lasts forever,

right? 

Multitudes~*

[written on 2 Aug] 

Some happy photos to kick start a dull and meaningless entry. 

Thanks PR for not inserting my age here hahah

Thanks girls, for celebrating it with me :)

Look at all the happy faces. I wonder what they're thinking about.
What was I thinking? Probably "ok, need to to show teeth."

~*~*~*Throat inflammation.

I guess I was very noisy in the quiet office, interrupting everybody's train of thoughts with my intermittent bouts of cough.

Some sweet colleagues actually came over to my desk and passed me cough med, lozenges etc. 

So, apparently, I must have been pretty loud. 

Anyway, I took my first MC in YEARS.

Well, I could have gone for work but... yes, I need to exercise some social responsibility too. 

And I guess in a way, staying at home to rest is good too, 

since I don't have to suppress my coughs and 

it also helps to avoid awkward situations which require me to speak up (croak) and I end up clearing my throat a million times before I speak (the other party will start laughing/showing concern by then).

Most importantly, I can rest my voice, my mind, my body. 

FYI,

I'm currently speaking in the bass range. 

"Sign language will come in handy now" 

~*~*~*

[continued on 3 Aug]

Is it possible that we can be so caught up with self-denial that we refuse to take in information that will prove things otherwise?

I guess so.

Guilty or not...?
Who decides.

~*~*~*

I'm still not ready to say that I'm recovering.
In fact, the frequency of coughs seem to be increasing.

~*~*~*

Sometimes, you just want to live within a bubble of happiness, entirely separated from reality.

Maybe that's precisely why I seek solace in fiction.

When you stare straight at reality, day in and out,
the weight on your shoulders just keeps increasing;
the amount of hair on your head just keeps decreasing;
you keep sighing.

 You start to live in a mechanical way.

Let the mind go on a break.
Let loose.
Lose yourself to the heavy rhythm of the song, indulge in sinful food and drinks... just... go do what you've always wanted to do.

Because life is probably a lot shorter than what we're expecting.

And living your whole life in that mechanical way just kills you faster.

[that's one important thing I've learnt after working for a month]

~*~*~*

Let me tell you the truth about lies.

There isn't any.