on chronicles of life
my nose is going to be the death of me. my chest tightens everytime i take in deep breaths to compensate for the stenosis; somehow oral breathing doesn't seem natural. this dissident mucoid plug won't be bent over by conservative therapy of jia jia liang teh, three legged brand cooling water and excessive intake of water. you don't achieve ur goal, u ended getting diuresis, kidneys work overtime, as if the weather's been nice to my bladder, arrghh the agony of being under the weather! illness can be an imperfection of normal homeostasis of course bt nothing is perfect by any measure, period.
so the day was again filled with silent contemplation of myriad sorts. from the exaggerated thought of getting caught in the rain, the paradoxical belief system of wasting precious irreplacables but being a consumer concomitantly, the need for movement to be in synchrony with the decibels of incomprehensibility and utter frustration of the passivity of the in your face epithet springing into reality, to the complexities of real life experiences that cross this head just like i simply liken them to the gentle swash of waves hitting your feet only to retract and disappear into the vast embodiment not knowing the probability of the subsequent encounter.
i was in the bus when the first heavy droplets splattered in tandem, colourless, minute but nevertheless managed to attract my attention and made me thought of the unplanned, where now do i stop? what if the shelter brokedown?what if this bus got into a deep puddle of nature's heavenly excretion and stalled it's engine only to leave me and the other commuters in merciless desolation? but then it occured to me how much an impact droplets can make. the thudding sounds on plastic. the power to make one look up and exact an expression is significant. i made a humanistic connection.
the transparent screen opposite me in the train is a frame of constantly changing landscape. as it approaches the tunnel between bedok and kembangan, the tracks slope down (relative to my forward journey) and a chiasmatic intersection of road and railway gets in view and in that transient junctional encounter i caught a glimpse of a Super4 and i recalled that back in junior college, i told melanie that i was not, never ever going to contibute to the awful separation of driver and driver (in the motorcycles' case it would be passenger and rider) and actively fumigating the air with my private transportation. that was when i had not yet faced the real terror of public transport, the morning rush hour, the kiasuistic pathology of singaporean culture and the having to soak my feet in Epsom salt at the end of the day thought and PRACTICE caused me to surrender to the alternative. i got my license not long after.
i had fun today over at angeline's party. but i thought of choreography along the way and during and trying to find an inspiration. these distractions (including some chinese girl with a green top and white pants complemented with a black cardigan) successfully caused me a headache. at one i was trying to stem the awkwardness of having step into foreign-ness and coming out of it unfettered, unawkward and delighted (with the headche still). i was sifting through photos left on the wooden table as i sat on a osteoporotic bench and looked at change through the immortalised images captured by light of yesteryears. and i pondered, why was it that i do not have paper-fossils of that sort to evidence the history of my bliss, rendezvous, shared fears, tears with those i dear? not that i have not thought of these before but it hit me this time. that what is it that i wanted from these pictures i see? a longing that was longed for but forever in quest of imaginary satiety? or maybe to supress the insatiable appetite of having known there was once life before now? that those experiences are real and not only rendered by dead memory cells.... it was too late then. by then i was thinking of checking out the swimming pool and yibin invited our lazy bums to the dimly lit poolside overshadowed by darkness. as we talked about the past and future and looked up into the stars, those mysterious glitters that sparsely populated the night skyline. mysteries only solved by taking 'understanding the universe'- said candy.
life has many mysteries, some basic present day concerns and some advance multilateral past and future apprehensions.
i used to tell myself that life should be like a dance. you can't dance in the past or the future. dancing happens right here and now.. in the bones and flesh in this material.
taking things easy was never a bad idea. it's just never been an idea i thought of...
so the day was again filled with silent contemplation of myriad sorts. from the exaggerated thought of getting caught in the rain, the paradoxical belief system of wasting precious irreplacables but being a consumer concomitantly, the need for movement to be in synchrony with the decibels of incomprehensibility and utter frustration of the passivity of the in your face epithet springing into reality, to the complexities of real life experiences that cross this head just like i simply liken them to the gentle swash of waves hitting your feet only to retract and disappear into the vast embodiment not knowing the probability of the subsequent encounter.
i was in the bus when the first heavy droplets splattered in tandem, colourless, minute but nevertheless managed to attract my attention and made me thought of the unplanned, where now do i stop? what if the shelter brokedown?what if this bus got into a deep puddle of nature's heavenly excretion and stalled it's engine only to leave me and the other commuters in merciless desolation? but then it occured to me how much an impact droplets can make. the thudding sounds on plastic. the power to make one look up and exact an expression is significant. i made a humanistic connection.
the transparent screen opposite me in the train is a frame of constantly changing landscape. as it approaches the tunnel between bedok and kembangan, the tracks slope down (relative to my forward journey) and a chiasmatic intersection of road and railway gets in view and in that transient junctional encounter i caught a glimpse of a Super4 and i recalled that back in junior college, i told melanie that i was not, never ever going to contibute to the awful separation of driver and driver (in the motorcycles' case it would be passenger and rider) and actively fumigating the air with my private transportation. that was when i had not yet faced the real terror of public transport, the morning rush hour, the kiasuistic pathology of singaporean culture and the having to soak my feet in Epsom salt at the end of the day thought and PRACTICE caused me to surrender to the alternative. i got my license not long after.
i had fun today over at angeline's party. but i thought of choreography along the way and during and trying to find an inspiration. these distractions (including some chinese girl with a green top and white pants complemented with a black cardigan) successfully caused me a headache. at one i was trying to stem the awkwardness of having step into foreign-ness and coming out of it unfettered, unawkward and delighted (with the headche still). i was sifting through photos left on the wooden table as i sat on a osteoporotic bench and looked at change through the immortalised images captured by light of yesteryears. and i pondered, why was it that i do not have paper-fossils of that sort to evidence the history of my bliss, rendezvous, shared fears, tears with those i dear? not that i have not thought of these before but it hit me this time. that what is it that i wanted from these pictures i see? a longing that was longed for but forever in quest of imaginary satiety? or maybe to supress the insatiable appetite of having known there was once life before now? that those experiences are real and not only rendered by dead memory cells.... it was too late then. by then i was thinking of checking out the swimming pool and yibin invited our lazy bums to the dimly lit poolside overshadowed by darkness. as we talked about the past and future and looked up into the stars, those mysterious glitters that sparsely populated the night skyline. mysteries only solved by taking 'understanding the universe'- said candy.
life has many mysteries, some basic present day concerns and some advance multilateral past and future apprehensions.
i used to tell myself that life should be like a dance. you can't dance in the past or the future. dancing happens right here and now.. in the bones and flesh in this material.
taking things easy was never a bad idea. it's just never been an idea i thought of...
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