Sometimes I feel as if I'm accountable to this space because there are thoughts which deserve to be preserved. Yet, whenver I open this page, it always feels like there is nothing really worthy enough to be written.
I am now back to going to bed in the wee hours of the morning, not doing the stuff that ought to be done, not packing my life neatly into organized boxes of time. Reading a colleague's CV made me realize that these documents are such rude awakenings to the mundaneness of life. What could one include in the list of "Special Skills/Achievements"? "Knack for understanding people"
or "Work Experience"? "Brewed coffee at Starbucks"?
"Interests"? "Loves discovering novelty in familarity"
It makes afternoons of meeting old pals and nights spent looking at the stars seem quite silly. Then again, silly is as silly decides.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Stitched with colour
"Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid."
Fyodor Dostoevsky
“ The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we’re afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we’ll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy. "
Richard Bach
"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard."
Anne Sexton
"There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words. Your thought, even a bad one, while it is with you, is always more profound, but in words it is more ridiculous and dishonorable. "
Dostoevsky
Fyodor Dostoevsky
“ The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we’re afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we’ll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy. "
Richard Bach
"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard."
Anne Sexton
"There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words. Your thought, even a bad one, while it is with you, is always more profound, but in words it is more ridiculous and dishonorable. "
Dostoevsky
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Ecclesiastes 7:8
"The end of a matter is better than its beginning,
and patience is better than pride."
and patience is better than pride."
Monday, July 20, 2009
Cool Stuff
Kash introduced a whole range of different films and short videos. I can't wait to check all of them out!
Here are some of those that caught my eye:
WESTERN SPAGHETTI
HER MORNING ELEGANCE
This is my personal fav. How apt a title too--nothing short of elegance: )
THE PEN STORY
A cheery one.
Increasingly, the desire to be away from Singapore is greater as I listen to travel tales, read of places that I only know about in print, but I know I'd only continue ranting about it for a long while and not put anything into action. I hate changes, together with routines...I guess my plans would only materialise when the stagnation of routine triumphs the fear of changes.
Here are some of those that caught my eye:
WESTERN SPAGHETTI
HER MORNING ELEGANCE
This is my personal fav. How apt a title too--nothing short of elegance: )
THE PEN STORY
A cheery one.
Increasingly, the desire to be away from Singapore is greater as I listen to travel tales, read of places that I only know about in print, but I know I'd only continue ranting about it for a long while and not put anything into action. I hate changes, together with routines...I guess my plans would only materialise when the stagnation of routine triumphs the fear of changes.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The Structure of Sanity
“Is it possible, in the final analysis, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another?
We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?”
-Haruki Murakami’s “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle”
Life now is absent of routines, I have lost count of days and my week is separated into portions: early week, mid-week, end week. The first five minutes of every waking moment is spent figuring out which day of the week it is. A new day often feels like a yesterday, and I am in bed wondering if I have lived the day or is it just the beginning of another day that feels set to be like the day before, and the days before that. Between the day and the night, I am traversing places, meeting various social groups, packing the hours down to the very second, catching up on the life that I think I ought to be living.
These days that finally count as liberating and enriching ironically feel just as structured as days of routine. I am tired of meeting people: old friends, new friends, people that would last only during this period. Everyone is essentially quite the same. Unpacking the exteriors of different houses, tastes, occupations, social circles, families, every person goes through life in a similar fashion, with the same struggles in each life phase. Conversations begin to become predictable, places no longer fresh, experiences aren’t stale, just blend. Meeting people repeatedly and simultaneously zaps away a fair deal of energy, and I feel it seeping into the ground like a melted butter. It becomes a task to tick on a To-Do list, or an obligation of sorts.
I watched Revolutionary Road the other night and it was awfully depressing. I didn’t enjoy the movie at all, save for the question Kate Winslet asked Leonardo Dicaprio, “What is insanity?” To which, he replied, “Insanity… Insanity is the inability to relate to other people. Insanity is the inability to love another person.” I’m not sure why his reply appealed to me most. Perhaps, it’s because it throws the Normal person off balance and questions his/her sanity.
We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close can we come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?”
-Haruki Murakami’s “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle”
Life now is absent of routines, I have lost count of days and my week is separated into portions: early week, mid-week, end week. The first five minutes of every waking moment is spent figuring out which day of the week it is. A new day often feels like a yesterday, and I am in bed wondering if I have lived the day or is it just the beginning of another day that feels set to be like the day before, and the days before that. Between the day and the night, I am traversing places, meeting various social groups, packing the hours down to the very second, catching up on the life that I think I ought to be living.
These days that finally count as liberating and enriching ironically feel just as structured as days of routine. I am tired of meeting people: old friends, new friends, people that would last only during this period. Everyone is essentially quite the same. Unpacking the exteriors of different houses, tastes, occupations, social circles, families, every person goes through life in a similar fashion, with the same struggles in each life phase. Conversations begin to become predictable, places no longer fresh, experiences aren’t stale, just blend. Meeting people repeatedly and simultaneously zaps away a fair deal of energy, and I feel it seeping into the ground like a melted butter. It becomes a task to tick on a To-Do list, or an obligation of sorts.
I watched Revolutionary Road the other night and it was awfully depressing. I didn’t enjoy the movie at all, save for the question Kate Winslet asked Leonardo Dicaprio, “What is insanity?” To which, he replied, “Insanity… Insanity is the inability to relate to other people. Insanity is the inability to love another person.” I’m not sure why his reply appealed to me most. Perhaps, it’s because it throws the Normal person off balance and questions his/her sanity.
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