Finally got down to inhabit some writings after so long a hiatus. It is true that I do not know where to begin, cos I seem to have lost touch with that real world out there, and this life as a hermit has been pretty unbearable…and I am thankful that those days of being frenzied by tears, when the weight on the shoulders turn obese, and that dry-cold iciness of isolation and loneliness.. Maybe I just need a few days of adjusting.. before I feel complete ease with the life I am living. But no matter what, the world out there is forgiving I think. The fact that I can go in and out of it at my own will and time is a comforting thought. At least till now..
On my way back from teaching last night, I heard this song from the radio.I think it is the best theme song for “Tokyo Noir”, or rather, a song that summarizes stridently, the emptiness and poignancy of that show.. I watched it last Saturday with wendy, it was a show I came back tremendously disturbed from..
IT'S ALL ABOUT THE MONEY - Meja
Sometimes I find another world
inside my mind
when I realisethe crazy things we do
It makes me feel ashamed to be alive
It makes me wanna run away and hide
It's all 'bout the money
It's all 'bout the dum dum.......
And I don't think It's funny
to see us fade away
It's all 'bout the money
It's all 'bout the dum dum...
and I think we got it all wrong anyway
We find strange ways of showing
them how much we really care
when in fact
we just don't seem to care at all
This pretty world is getting out of hand
So tell me how we fail to understand?
It's all 'bout the money
It's all 'bout the dum dum.......And I don't think It's funny
to see us fade away
It's all 'bout the money
It's all 'bout the dum dum...
and I think we got it all wrong anyway
Anyway
Cause it's all 'bout the money
I wish to write some poems soon..maybe too much of essay writings have sapped me of that ability to write poems.. cos for the past weeks, I have been storing those uncontrollable emotions in the freezer to prevent them from tainting the pedantic essays I ought to write. U know, people rejoice when they have freedom, and the idea of liberation is so often linked to being a bird. it seems like everyone wants to be a free bird, breaking away from bondages and limitations. I have never really think that I want to be a bird, but I know for sure, if I ever become a bird, I want to be a thornbird who knows the way back home. I don’t want to be a free bird without a home. If you have ever heard of the legend about the thornbird, I am sure you want to be one too. The thornbird is a small South American bird allied to the ovenbirds of the genus Furnarius. It builds a very large and complex nest of twigs and thorns in a bush or tree. It was said that it will fly towards the thorns of the trees and hit its head against the thorns, and when that happens, it will let out a melodious sound, a sound more beautiful than that of a nightingale. This brings to mind prayers in adversaries. When we pray and worship in times of trials and tribulations, the incense of prayer that rises up is going to be the most sweet-smelling and acceptable like a tuneful music to God. And we ask ourselves, do we do that mindfully or we just conveniently wallow in despair and brokenness in times like these, forgetting/not wanting to praise and worship Him?
-my student, deepa, gave me some Indian goodies yesterday, that is so sweet of her.
-visiting julie's place for hari raya on thursday.. yeah=)
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