Body of thoughts
Somehow I think that, if one thinks too much for too long, they start to imagine things and if it happens often enough, it becomes reality in the person's mind, thus affecting the person's abiliy to make good decisions.
I believe I fell victim to such impulses.
Well, all i can say now, now that the dust has finally settled, that she was a body of thoughts, the physical manifestation of my deepest desires and fears, a mere proxy of my misguided attempts for happiness.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Kiss Me Goodbye
By Angela Aki
Theme song of Final Fantasy XII
You said my love is all you need,
See you through
But I know these words are not quite true.
Here is the path you're looking for
An open door
Leading to worlds you long to explore
I'll give you wings to fly,
Cast all your fears into the sky
Kiss me goodbye, love's mystery
All of my life I'll hold you close to me
Don't shed a tear for love's mortality
For you put the dream in my reality
Kiss me goodbye, love's memory
You put the dream in my reality
I'm a sucker for love ballads combined with epic stories.
By Angela Aki
Theme song of Final Fantasy XII
You said my love is all you need,
See you through
But I know these words are not quite true.
Here is the path you're looking for
An open door
Leading to worlds you long to explore
I'll give you wings to fly,
Cast all your fears into the sky
Kiss me goodbye, love's mystery
All of my life I'll hold you close to me
Don't shed a tear for love's mortality
For you put the dream in my reality
Kiss me goodbye, love's memory
You put the dream in my reality
I'm a sucker for love ballads combined with epic stories.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
20 and counting
T H E B I R T H D A Y S O N G
Written by Corrinne May Ying Foo
Copyright 2003, Corrmay Gourmet Music (ASCAP)
Don't worry about that extra line
That's creeping up upon your face
It's just a part of nature's way to say you've grown a little more
Trees have rings and thicker branches
Kids shoes get a little tighter
Every year we're getting closer to who we're gonna be
It's time to celebrate the story of how you've come to be
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
So light a candle on your cake
For every smile you've helped create
For every heart and every soul you've helped to grow
A little more
A few more pounds, a little more grey
Don't count the years, just count the way
It takes a little time to go from water into wine
Don't ever lose the wonder of that child within your eyes
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
I guess this song says it all. Happy birthday to me. 20 and counting, here's to more whimisical whining and thoughts...
T H E B I R T H D A Y S O N G
Written by Corrinne May Ying Foo
Copyright 2003, Corrmay Gourmet Music (ASCAP)
Don't worry about that extra line
That's creeping up upon your face
It's just a part of nature's way to say you've grown a little more
Trees have rings and thicker branches
Kids shoes get a little tighter
Every year we're getting closer to who we're gonna be
It's time to celebrate the story of how you've come to be
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
So light a candle on your cake
For every smile you've helped create
For every heart and every soul you've helped to grow
A little more
A few more pounds, a little more grey
Don't count the years, just count the way
It takes a little time to go from water into wine
Don't ever lose the wonder of that child within your eyes
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
I guess this song says it all. Happy birthday to me. 20 and counting, here's to more whimisical whining and thoughts...
Monday, January 16, 2006
Wasted..
I just caught the campus superstar episode that was playing on tv just now. The 4th female contestant sang the song I am very into now, Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi CI Yong You, as I said in one of my previous posts. AS she sang, I could genuinely feel the emotion, the sense of loss and regret emoting from that young voice of hers. She was easily the best performing female contestant.
Then when it came for the judges to critique her performance, the third judge said something that struck me. She said, "I don't know if a 15-16 year old has had the necessary life experiences to be able to sing a song about a great love lost..."
Well, in my opinion, judging from the raw emotion she displayed in her voice and expression, apparently a lot...
20 years and counting...
Thanks to all those that remembered, it was nice to get all those calls, sms, msn greetings etc. I really did appreciate the greetings.
I just caught the campus superstar episode that was playing on tv just now. The 4th female contestant sang the song I am very into now, Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi CI Yong You, as I said in one of my previous posts. AS she sang, I could genuinely feel the emotion, the sense of loss and regret emoting from that young voice of hers. She was easily the best performing female contestant.
Then when it came for the judges to critique her performance, the third judge said something that struck me. She said, "I don't know if a 15-16 year old has had the necessary life experiences to be able to sing a song about a great love lost..."
Well, in my opinion, judging from the raw emotion she displayed in her voice and expression, apparently a lot...
20 years and counting...
Thanks to all those that remembered, it was nice to get all those calls, sms, msn greetings etc. I really did appreciate the greetings.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
To have it once again
I've been rather enchanted by a chinese song from a singaporean artist Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi Ci Yong You (loosely translated as "let me have it once again"). It's a song pining for lost love, but yet it strikes a chord with me with its lyrics about loss and how you would do anything, anything just to regain it.
Once again I trawl the Internet world aimlessly in the death of the night, resisting the urge to turn in for the night and hence face the next day. Some idle clicking led me to some of old classmates' blogs, which out of boredom decided to peruse them.
I shouldn't have.
Somehow their words, felt alien yet familiar. Some of them have gone on to different things, either studying overseas or in different army camps. They express their thoughts and emotions about their vastly different lives that I no longer play any significant part in. Once I was a classmate whom you could have canteen breaks with, borrow notes to copy from, have lunches in ghim moh or copy tutorials from; now perhaps I'm just relegated to being a saved contact on the handphone, a face in that school photo, or just a mere hazy memory.
Maybe they just forget me. But I know that is not true, as I myself have started to forget people. It's been a year since I left school for the big bad world, and I've lost touch with many, far too many. Sometimes I wonder how they're doing, but it's never more than a few seconds of curious thought, before my brain returns to stuff more immediate and direct.
This I got from a friend's blog about what I wore for prom in 2004.
"Zyang (my name i guess, great way of ensuring people don't google it) looked nothing but unglam in his sharked skin coloured suit courtesy of his dad. He didn't look like a shark but he did look like a fashion disaster. Horrible taste. However, that did not stop him from winning the 5th prize of a digital camera in the lucky draw, perhaps a good way of the glitzy night in mocking him by making him go up on stage."
Well if that friend of mine sees this, for the record I kinda agree with him. I'm just an idiot when it comes to dressing. So really since you spoke the truth there's really nothing for me to be upset about.
And well, a part of me is compelling me to defend myself as to why I chose that suit, yet another part of me tells me to let it go.
Reading blogs of others, especially those who are candid about people, really let you take a look at how people view you. When they say bad things about you, you may want to immediately defend yourself, try to justify your actions, as you feel that you as a person have been violated, but maybe sometimes it's the truth, which hurts bad.
Another thing I learned from reading blogs is that no matter how different our lives are now, we still share common problems and desires. We longed to be cherished, we get frustrated over things, we are saddened by loss, we hide our true selves from the world lest they try to hurt us, we lie, cheat, backstab to protect ourselves, we love or hate each other, we stare from afar those with seemingly perfect lives and sigh "why can't that be me?", we yearn for acceptance, we are all but the same.
The clock strikes 2.00 am.
Another day with the "Organisation" beckons.
This quagmire never ends.
I've been rather enchanted by a chinese song from a singaporean artist Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi Ci Yong You (loosely translated as "let me have it once again"). It's a song pining for lost love, but yet it strikes a chord with me with its lyrics about loss and how you would do anything, anything just to regain it.
Once again I trawl the Internet world aimlessly in the death of the night, resisting the urge to turn in for the night and hence face the next day. Some idle clicking led me to some of old classmates' blogs, which out of boredom decided to peruse them.
I shouldn't have.
Somehow their words, felt alien yet familiar. Some of them have gone on to different things, either studying overseas or in different army camps. They express their thoughts and emotions about their vastly different lives that I no longer play any significant part in. Once I was a classmate whom you could have canteen breaks with, borrow notes to copy from, have lunches in ghim moh or copy tutorials from; now perhaps I'm just relegated to being a saved contact on the handphone, a face in that school photo, or just a mere hazy memory.
Maybe they just forget me. But I know that is not true, as I myself have started to forget people. It's been a year since I left school for the big bad world, and I've lost touch with many, far too many. Sometimes I wonder how they're doing, but it's never more than a few seconds of curious thought, before my brain returns to stuff more immediate and direct.
This I got from a friend's blog about what I wore for prom in 2004.
"Zyang (my name i guess, great way of ensuring people don't google it) looked nothing but unglam in his sharked skin coloured suit courtesy of his dad. He didn't look like a shark but he did look like a fashion disaster. Horrible taste. However, that did not stop him from winning the 5th prize of a digital camera in the lucky draw, perhaps a good way of the glitzy night in mocking him by making him go up on stage."
Well if that friend of mine sees this, for the record I kinda agree with him. I'm just an idiot when it comes to dressing. So really since you spoke the truth there's really nothing for me to be upset about.
And well, a part of me is compelling me to defend myself as to why I chose that suit, yet another part of me tells me to let it go.
Reading blogs of others, especially those who are candid about people, really let you take a look at how people view you. When they say bad things about you, you may want to immediately defend yourself, try to justify your actions, as you feel that you as a person have been violated, but maybe sometimes it's the truth, which hurts bad.
Another thing I learned from reading blogs is that no matter how different our lives are now, we still share common problems and desires. We longed to be cherished, we get frustrated over things, we are saddened by loss, we hide our true selves from the world lest they try to hurt us, we lie, cheat, backstab to protect ourselves, we love or hate each other, we stare from afar those with seemingly perfect lives and sigh "why can't that be me?", we yearn for acceptance, we are all but the same.
The clock strikes 2.00 am.
Another day with the "Organisation" beckons.
This quagmire never ends.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Ode to the disenfranchised
Ever got the feeling the whole world has moved on and somehow you were inexplicably left behind?
There's this recurring vision, brought upon when you're sub conscious, as a result of having lucid dreams, where you're standing by an unknown river, wearing a cardigan and a scarf staring out in the distance, the city lights reflecting off the surface of the river. For a few, precious seconds, it would seem that the world would truly belong to you only, the maddening crowd far away from you, and a sense of calm would fall over you.
Then those fleeting moments of peace would be cruelly taken from you, the illusion shattered by your alarm clock screeching in your ear to get up and face another day. You wake not with trepidation, but with hope. Maybe today will be a good day.
You groggily get up and wash up, savouring the last few moments of that delightful dream, before shrugging it off as a mere dream and by the time you put on your clothes and rushed out of the door, you would have forgotten the bulk of that dream, mind now filled with thoughts about the coming day.
You immerse yourself in the hustle and bustle of work. It makes you feel important, as you try to effectively multi-task and do many areas of work at the same time. As 5 o'clock comes, you drag yourself out of your workplace, exhausted, perhaps due to work, but probably more likely due to the politicking you had to endure.
You walk past the blank faces of other people returning home from work. You glance at couples being all lovey-dovey, you react by quickening your step and looking away. Yet you secretly harbour hope that the next good looking guy or girl would somehow for some reason or another be besotted with you. You tsk at those youths wearing their school uniform disrespectfully while engaging in open displays of emotion for each while strolling down aimlessly orchard road when in your opinion they should be back home studying, yet you secretly lament the fact that you spent far too much time hitting the books and never had the chance to let loose somewhat. You hanker for those uncomplicated school days when all you worried about was studies and whether the girl/guy you had a crush on would like you.
You slow your footsteps. You can feel the energy swirling around the neighbouring mall, the business, the noise, the activity of it all; you don't want to go home so soon, you just want to stay behind, let the crowd take away some of the loneliness you feel. But you know such an act is hollow, as it just serves to artificially fill up the void in your heart. You tell yourself not to be such a weakling, that you should just suppress such feelings and head home, where more important chores like laundry await you. Yet, in the face of such irrefutable logic, you dally for that 5 minutes more, before turning your back to that soulless place.
Home is where the defences of the day come down, no more masks, no more make up, no more fake pretenses. You relax, put on some relaxing music, do your chores before settling down to perhaps watch a bit of TV, surf the net for a while, or read a book. Your eyes may be closing, your mind shutting down, every nerve fibre of your body asking to just lie upon that inviting bed and give yourself up to merciful slumber, but yet you refuse its advances, as you know once your eyes close for the last time today, when you open them again the same cycle of madness will repeat itself again, and despite your body's pleas you resist the urge to sleep, in a feeble attempt to put off the inevitable.
Then, when you finally surrender, you run through what happened today, and realise that chances are, tomorrow will be another carbon copy of today.
Then you ask yourself, why do I bother to get up then?
You answer your own question.
You bother to get up as tomorrow may be a better day than today.
Something good may happen to you tomorrow, who's to know?
Safe in that knowledge, you let your mind drift off again.
Next thing you know, yet another dream will be shattered by the screeching of the alarm clock.
Time to face another day.
You wake not with trepidation, but with hope.
Maybe today will be a better day.
Ever got the feeling the whole world has moved on and somehow you were inexplicably left behind?
There's this recurring vision, brought upon when you're sub conscious, as a result of having lucid dreams, where you're standing by an unknown river, wearing a cardigan and a scarf staring out in the distance, the city lights reflecting off the surface of the river. For a few, precious seconds, it would seem that the world would truly belong to you only, the maddening crowd far away from you, and a sense of calm would fall over you.
Then those fleeting moments of peace would be cruelly taken from you, the illusion shattered by your alarm clock screeching in your ear to get up and face another day. You wake not with trepidation, but with hope. Maybe today will be a good day.
You groggily get up and wash up, savouring the last few moments of that delightful dream, before shrugging it off as a mere dream and by the time you put on your clothes and rushed out of the door, you would have forgotten the bulk of that dream, mind now filled with thoughts about the coming day.
You immerse yourself in the hustle and bustle of work. It makes you feel important, as you try to effectively multi-task and do many areas of work at the same time. As 5 o'clock comes, you drag yourself out of your workplace, exhausted, perhaps due to work, but probably more likely due to the politicking you had to endure.
You walk past the blank faces of other people returning home from work. You glance at couples being all lovey-dovey, you react by quickening your step and looking away. Yet you secretly harbour hope that the next good looking guy or girl would somehow for some reason or another be besotted with you. You tsk at those youths wearing their school uniform disrespectfully while engaging in open displays of emotion for each while strolling down aimlessly orchard road when in your opinion they should be back home studying, yet you secretly lament the fact that you spent far too much time hitting the books and never had the chance to let loose somewhat. You hanker for those uncomplicated school days when all you worried about was studies and whether the girl/guy you had a crush on would like you.
You slow your footsteps. You can feel the energy swirling around the neighbouring mall, the business, the noise, the activity of it all; you don't want to go home so soon, you just want to stay behind, let the crowd take away some of the loneliness you feel. But you know such an act is hollow, as it just serves to artificially fill up the void in your heart. You tell yourself not to be such a weakling, that you should just suppress such feelings and head home, where more important chores like laundry await you. Yet, in the face of such irrefutable logic, you dally for that 5 minutes more, before turning your back to that soulless place.
Home is where the defences of the day come down, no more masks, no more make up, no more fake pretenses. You relax, put on some relaxing music, do your chores before settling down to perhaps watch a bit of TV, surf the net for a while, or read a book. Your eyes may be closing, your mind shutting down, every nerve fibre of your body asking to just lie upon that inviting bed and give yourself up to merciful slumber, but yet you refuse its advances, as you know once your eyes close for the last time today, when you open them again the same cycle of madness will repeat itself again, and despite your body's pleas you resist the urge to sleep, in a feeble attempt to put off the inevitable.
Then, when you finally surrender, you run through what happened today, and realise that chances are, tomorrow will be another carbon copy of today.
Then you ask yourself, why do I bother to get up then?
You answer your own question.
You bother to get up as tomorrow may be a better day than today.
Something good may happen to you tomorrow, who's to know?
Safe in that knowledge, you let your mind drift off again.
Next thing you know, yet another dream will be shattered by the screeching of the alarm clock.
Time to face another day.
You wake not with trepidation, but with hope.
Maybe today will be a better day.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Free
By Corrine May
I see the morning glory
It winds upon the tree
It tells the untold story of how things were meant to be
You saw the universe
Caught up in desperate dreams
You came and changed the ending
Changed it to save my fate
You led the revolution
You left your legacy
Embraced the struggle
in the face of mortality
I know I'm not alone in this
Help me believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
It's still the same old story
This great divide
Between the want and waste
And all the hunger inside
I heard the news today
Now I'm trying to find my place
I'm just a single voice
What can I do to erase
All this misunderstanding
All this anarchy
Six degrees of separation
Sometimes it's so hard to see
That we are not alone in this
I need to believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
Somehow i can empathise with this song greatly. Must be the plight I'm in now. I spent my 16 hour flights to and from canada listening to corrine may's safe in a crazy world and trying to drift off to a blissful, dreamless sleep.
Strangely enough, the song has a strong message of hope despite its rather depressing tone. Perhaps the reason why I'm so enamoured with it could be due to its eventual hopeful nature. That elusive light at the end of that often very dark and endless tunnel. The helping hand when you're down in the dumps.
Well, enough musing. There's another dark tunnel to go through tomorrow.
I wonder who remembers this time around...
By Corrine May
I see the morning glory
It winds upon the tree
It tells the untold story of how things were meant to be
You saw the universe
Caught up in desperate dreams
You came and changed the ending
Changed it to save my fate
You led the revolution
You left your legacy
Embraced the struggle
in the face of mortality
I know I'm not alone in this
Help me believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
It's still the same old story
This great divide
Between the want and waste
And all the hunger inside
I heard the news today
Now I'm trying to find my place
I'm just a single voice
What can I do to erase
All this misunderstanding
All this anarchy
Six degrees of separation
Sometimes it's so hard to see
That we are not alone in this
I need to believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
Somehow i can empathise with this song greatly. Must be the plight I'm in now. I spent my 16 hour flights to and from canada listening to corrine may's safe in a crazy world and trying to drift off to a blissful, dreamless sleep.
Strangely enough, the song has a strong message of hope despite its rather depressing tone. Perhaps the reason why I'm so enamoured with it could be due to its eventual hopeful nature. That elusive light at the end of that often very dark and endless tunnel. The helping hand when you're down in the dumps.
Well, enough musing. There's another dark tunnel to go through tomorrow.
I wonder who remembers this time around...
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