Upon Awakening

"Who am I?" "Where did I come from?" "Where am I going?" I think these are the questions everyone is asking themselves constantly. I am not an exception.

I woke up from a state of dreamless restlessness to find it very peculiar, for me to be here at this very moment. My memory's almost a blur in the air. What have I been doing? I've done things I tried hard not to do before. I like my things to be simple and clean, yet there are a little too much cluttered confusion and tangled histories, pointless strifes and unnecessary facades.

Pointless. Why am I still entertaining this hideous and silly attempt of a stage play? Have I really fallen that low? It's pathetically horrible I can almost laugh at it without feeling the remorse. I blamed it on my weaknesses before, but something is still wrong. Where did I begin? How did something so precious become such a monster of an unspeakable shadow?

You, who I can trust to slap my face should I falter on my way.



There's an ideal founded by a desire to embrace everything. That I should always do these things: make my own bed, confront myself and right my wrongs. There's a sad world driven mad by fear and thrown into unrest - to what extend can I love it?

Friend! I call for your aid. Will you support me this time?

Locke

Locke's socks might not be his old ones, but that piece of cloth over there is now fitting the very same pair of feet they should have the title as well.

Although, it's a bit hard to recall the old pattern when so much part of cloth have been renewed and updated. But is it really the details in the fabric we have to pay attention to?

I recall a surge of emotion of some sort. I was one with the stream of knowledge, wired to channels I've never thought of before, ecstatic with the awakening of awareness. For once a love of learning was not a mere empty phrase. I allowed myself to be impressed, to be tuned to the foreign frequency. It was something that shouldn't be allowed to be transient in nature, at least for me. There were them and there were you. It was fun. It's not to be forgotten.

For the March(ing) Boy

"How is it going with her? Made it official yet?"

"Nah. Relationship status is merely a status."

"So the important thing is something else?"

"Yeah."

Now -that- is my brother. He seems to understand 'the thing'. Nineteen years old, and quite a fine young man he's turning into, bit by bit.

Happy birthday, brother dear. Lots of love, luck and blessing in your life and may there be nothing to cast dark shadow on it.

Quite a motivation I got from that short phone call. Managed to work until three just now (still on '40 days art school without coffee' vow) and now i really need to sleep.

Nights!

Angels

"So when I'm lying in my bed
Thoughts running through my head
And I feel that love is dead
I'm loving angels instead

And through it all she offers me protection
A lot of love and affection
Whether I'm right or wrong
And down the waterfallWherever it may take me
I know that life won't break me
When I come to call she won't forsake me
I'm loving angels instead"

Lent List

So I intend to swear off:
1. Meat
2. Chocolate/Coffee (possibly both)
3. Alcohol (thanks, Teach)
4. Pessimism
5. Resentment

..Amen to that.

This time of year, a year ago

I couldn't bear to write anything generic for my juniors. I'd say it holds no meaning when I couldn't understand whatever they are thinking of, in their probable celebration or otherwise. I'd say that, because I know how it feels to experience it myself.

Around this time I was sitting in that jazz bar, letting all my emotions running my tears off for once, surrounded by a most supportive group of friends I had - my fellow batch mates. I say most supportive, although probably they were just being at the right place at the right time, but they were there. One of them lending me a kind shoulder and a pillow to cover my face and the others giving me both the privacy and the comfortable silence I needed.

It's not over, they said. "There's more to your life and yourself, don't forget that. It was not even that bad. What you're comfortable of doing does not even correlate much with this. Our opinions of you are unchanged and of those who did change, they probably are those that do not even matter." or something along those lines. 

Still, the blow was huge. Being me, I was devastated to shreds. A day after, I went to watch ICN and broke down even before the show started. There were a few times in which I felt truly lost. It was one of them. Now though, it just added another layer of meaning to this whole redeeming thing.

On A Great Tribute to the Royal Dance

In the end, maybe I'm indeed just a feather in the air. But I'd say the feather has been doing things during its fleeting flight. This is an unsung story.