Thursday, May 09, 2013
  all that we cannot see:


Wednesday, May 08, 2013
  all that we see:


Monday, April 22, 2013
  In the end:


Because of the "constants and variables" idea, almost any ending you conceive has happened, is happening, will happen. If you look at it this way, we are all right.


Thursday, April 18, 2013
  radiate:



Sunday, April 14, 2013
  We’re all curious about what might hurt us:
Conrad Aiken
 
126. Morning Song From "Senlin"
 
IT is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning 
When the light drips through the shutters like the dew, 
I arise, I face the sunrise, 
And do the things my fathers learned to do. 
Stars in the purple dusk above the rooftops         5
Pale in a saffron mist and seem to die, 
And I myself on swiftly tilting planet 
Stand before a glass and tie my tie. 
  
Vine-leaves tap my window, 
Dew-drops sing to the garden stones,  10
The robin chirps in the chinaberry tree 
Repeating three clear tones. 
  
It is morning. I stand by the mirror 
And tie my tie once more. 
While waves far off in a pale rose twilight  15
Crash on a white sand shore. 
I stand by a mirror and comb my hair: 
How small and white my face!— 
The green earth tilts through a sphere of air 
And bathes in a flame of space.  20
There are houses hanging above the stars 
And stars hung under a sea... 
And a sun far off in a shell of silence 
Dapples my walls for me.... 
  
It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning  25
Should I not pause in the light to remember God? 
Upright and firm I stand on a star unstable, 
He is immense and lonely as a cloud. 
I will dedicate this moment before my mirror 
To him alone, for him I will comb my hair.  30
Accept these humble offerings, clouds of silence! 
I will think of you as I descend the stair. 
  
Vine-leaves tap my window, 
The snail-track shines on the stones; 
Dew-drops flash from the chinaberry tree  35
Repeating two clear tones. 
  
It is morning, I awake from a bed of silence, 
Shining I rise from the starless waters of sleep. 
The walls are about me still as in the evening, 
I am the same, and the same name still I keep.  40
The earth revolves with me, yet makes no motion, 
The stars pale silently in a coral sky. 
In a whistling void I stand before my mirror, 
Unconcerned, and tie my tie. 
  
There are horses neighing on far-off hills  45
Tossing their long white manes, 
And mountains flash in the rose-white dusk, 
Their shoulders black with rains.... 
It is morning, I stand by the mirror 
And surprise my soul once more;  50
The blue air rushes above my ceiling, 
There are suns beneath my floor.... 
  
...It is morning, Senlin says, I ascend from darkness 
And depart on the winds of space for I know not where; 
My watch is wound, a key is in my pocket,  55
And the sky is darkened as I descend the stair. 
There are shadows across the windows, clouds in heaven, 
And a god among the stars; and I will go 
Thinking of him as I might think of daybreak 
And humming a tune I know....  60
  
Vine-leaves tap at the window, 
Dew-drops sing to the garden stones, 
The robin chirps in the chinaberry tree 
Repeating three dear tones.


Tuesday, April 09, 2013
  my first wallaby had to be a dead one:

It’s the needing now, more than the wanting.
The length of my hair and the straightness of his eyes,
It’s the I’ll go there for you
And waiting till the nature of it all engulfs me in the quiet.
The quiet washing.
Everything.
It’s another road, but a cold one
Where wildness sits and occasionally dies
But, then still being here,
The loveliness of his hands tying sailor knots
And my small little heart wishing for sun. And sun. And more sun. 


Saturday, March 23, 2013
  because it's like wanting you in the slow:




Tuesday, March 05, 2013
  a tear in the universe:



Saturday, February 09, 2013
  we be giants:


Friday, February 08, 2013
  PROTECT YOUR MELON:


Waiting for the preliminary class on HOW TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE, I look around the room and feel old. I am starting to feel like I've been feeling this a lot lately. At 27, you're never really just 27, but "pushing 30". But being 30 is not the end of the world. I hear.

However, it is perhaps the most singularly undeniable age at which you cannot, or should not, say you are not an adult. No, at 27, you are not even a Young Adult. And no, you are definetely not a mature youth. Mature youth are nothing but mythical creatures that have long-since flown its way out of existence with its unicorned friends and ageing Papa Clauses. You are a fully-formed, decision-making, cash-in-hand, capital A-dult.

This is my disposition sitting in a room full of future Adults waiting for a fellow capable Adult to teach us all HOW TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.

When the class starts, it becomes apparent that a majority of the bright, young stars of Malaysia's future sitting in this room already know HOW TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.

Enter: pangs of inadequacy. Existing skill sets do not suffice. Play it cool. You are an Adult. This is what Adults do. We feign wisdom and drown our subconscious in a soup of nervous incompetence awash in memories of failure gathered in the years leading to this singularity that is Adult Life, all the while hoping never to be found out. Exit: awkward laugh. To myself.

As it turns out, the class on HOW TO RIDE A MOTORCYLE is actually a HOW NOT TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE AND AVOID LARGE MULTI-WHEELED VEHICLES, YOU IDIOT class. Video after video plays of how riders and pillion riders and motorists and pedestrians and future roadkill and traffic lights and road dividers and helmets and helmet straps and jacket pockets and brakes and generally ANYTHING IN YOUR LINE OF SIGHT is never, ever your friend when on the road on your motorcycle.

Re: when all else fails, in life or otherwise, but especially on a crotch-rocket destined to marry, make love and have children with the flat end of a highway curb, PROTECT YOUR MELON (re: head). This is important because without it, and science will show, that the probability of you doing more things like, ever, plummet drastically. Such things could include, but do not consist entirely of, successfully navigating a post-quarter-life crisis. The navigation of the aforementioned crisis could include, but does not consist entirely of, learning HOW TO RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.

So I hear.


Tuesday, February 05, 2013
  how far can you see:


Wednesday, January 16, 2013
  comfort with discomfort:




Tuesday, January 08, 2013
  an open mind is an entirely empty one:


Thursday, December 27, 2012
  when is the world’s birthday?:

You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself: it’s also the flinch. Your personality is not set in stone. You may think a morning coffee is the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it’s really just a habit. Thirty days without it, and you would be fine. You think you have a soul mate, but in fact you could have had any number of spouses. You would have evolved differently, but been just as happy.
You can change what you want about yourself at any time. You see yourself as someone who can’t write or play an instrument, who gives in to temptation or makes bad decisions, but that’s really not you. It’s not ingrained. It’s not your personality. Your personality is something else, something deeper than just preferences, and these details on the surface, you can change anytime you like.
If it is useful to do so, you must abandon your identity and start again. Sometimes, it’s the only way.
Set fire to your old self. It’s not needed here. It’s too busy shopping, gossiping about others, and watching days go by and asking why you haven’t gotten as far as you’d like. This old self will die and be forgotten by all but family, and replaced by someone who makes a difference.
Your new self is not like that. Your new self is the Great Chicago Fire — overwhelming, overpowering and destroying everything that isn’t necessary.
— Julien Smith


  journey:




I will try hard
to let it fall..

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