Been thinking quite a bit while I’m traveling around our concrete jungle (luckily it strives to be a garden city). Been surprised by many sights on the roads, which is funny because I seldom notice much other than the overly-conscientious driver ahead of me.
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Just the other day, I saw some fresh road-kill. It was in the CBD area. A bird of some sort. Pigeon? At a traffic junction. WHAT THE FUCK WAS IT TRYING TO DO? Was it too tired? Was it just coming down for the next updraft to bring itself to soaring heights? Was it trying to cross the road, to get to the other side? When I say fresh, I mean its not exactly flattened yet. It was still pulpy, and pretty much 3-dimensional. I did pass it again later in the day. Not only was it still there, it was already 2-dimensional. Who cleans up road-kill anyway?
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I was heading home one morning, and the Morningstar was screaming into my optical receptors. I willed it away with my cerebral arrow, and it suddenly hid behind the bringers of silver linings. My world was plunged not into darkness (no, the apocalypse is still far off, and I’m not THAT evil), but into a world of sepia tones, the result of an un-reactive iris perhaps. The streams of the sun peeking through the livelihoods of trees that adorn the highway. Pastel brown tones on all colours, including the red Mercedes and purple BMWs. My life seemed like something out of a postcard, which got me wondering. What kind of card my life would be. A Get Well soon card? A Sorry card? What card would your life be?
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I overtook a Porsche Cayenne Turbo, driven by a hot babe (I think, my peripheral vision has been bad since I couldn’t help myself peeking at the magnesium ribbons that constantly appear in my life.) This incident has been added to the list of cars I’ve been overtaking this year with my Toyota Vios 1.5e(A). Others on the list include a Ferrari Modena and a Lamborghini Murcielago.
Shiok.
However, I’ve been noticing more KIAs overtaking me. Fuck……
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Last night, the moon made love to me. She lay on her back, arched ever so seductively, and her presence assailed every fibre of my being as I stared at her longingly. Then she hid behind the blankets in the sky, peeking cheekily ever so often. How I hated her teasing. I could snuff her out with my thumb, and yet she is so unreachable. So unattainable. And the worst thing was that I had to share her with everyone willing to take a look at her.
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Is it just me or is World War 3 almost upon us. All the signs are there for the impending doom that every cryptic doomsayer has foretold since the dawn of language. The hotbed of western society is ever erupting into deeper chaos and despair. Mother Earth has cried out in pain, and teared along the banks of Java. The markets too, tell a story of the everlasting night that is to come. Fires shell descend on screens across the world. Only the strong survive. Whittle out the weak and little. The time has come to defrag humankind.
Let the seeking arm of FATE begin its work! Let the TRUTH PrEVail!
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Thursday, July 13, 2006
The Lifetime Between
Hooo hooo hooo hooo..... Breathe. Breathe. Get the oxygen in. Get the muscles pumped. You are ready. You are ready. Breathe. Breathe deep. You can do it. You can beat them. Its just 9 seconds. You are the best. Come on. Calm down. It'd be over in a flash. Hooo... Hooo..... breathe. They are cheering for you. All of them. All ten thousand pairs of eyes on you. Look around. Wave. Smile....
Yes, this is what you've been training for all year. All your life. Just this instance. Just the next minute, and you'd have lived your dream. This is what its all about. The final 100m. Breathe.... Breathe.... the start is coming soon. Get ready. Everyone is counting on you. Mom, little bro, your wife, or soon to be wife. Right after you get the gold. Yes. You need the money. She needs the money. No nervousness now. Feel the calm. Get in the zone. Keep all these thoughts out. Hoo.... Hooo..... breathe. Tip-toe. Stay frosty. Keep your muscles warm.
Move to the line. Do not have a false start. Keep your twitching in control. Soon, your muscles will be in full burn. They will explode and you will not feel the ache. You will be the fastest. You are the man. Yes you are. Fingers and knuckles down. Legs in. Bend and flex your knees. Yes. Breathe. That's it. Look at the others. Nervous. They are fearful of you. You and your smile. Killer grin. They are putty in your hands. They will be in your wake. You are in the centre lane. Look up. The finishing line is there. Right across, ready for the taking. Hooo.... Hooo.... Breathe.... Sweaty palms. Its fine. You can do it. Pay attention. Hear the angels sing. Feel the beat of your pounding heart. Here comes the gun.
Last gasp. No turning back now. Only forward. This is it. Since high school. Since college. This is what you were born to do. This is your destiny. Have a last look down. You are a catapult. Your muscles will not fail you. They are primed and ready. They are taut, ready to spring. At the sound. Wait for it. Hear it the instant its uttered. Its waiting for you too. To come together. The symphony of you. The beauty of the dash. All the elements are here now, together. Right now. Breathe. Look up. Ready…… Steady……. GO!
Move Move MOVE! Come ON! Blast forward. Jerk. Swing your arms. Swing them. Stretch forward. Reach. Burst. Go Go Go! Shit, the guy on the right is actually good. I can see him by the corner. No worries. That was a good start. The finish is running up to me. Just 8 more seconds.
Dash Dash dash! The ground is disappearing below you. Behind you. The rest flying up to meet your feet. Your spikes eating into their soul, chewing up the distance between. There is nothing between you and your goal. Nothing can beat you. 7 seconds. Wasn’t that a song once? Move move move!
Feel it. Feel the wind. Feel the air whizzing by. Feel your feet sliding each other. Feel your arms in mechanical excellence. Feel your lungs in maximum capacity. Feel your wings flap. Feel it, the victory. The ultimate goal. 6 seconds.
Concentrate! There is only the now. There is no tomorrow. Open your legs wider. Further. Faster. Stronger. Explosive force. Kill your legs. Feel the momentum. Embrace the cheer. Feel the love. Earn it. Fly fly fly! 5 seconds. Soon.
Wait, what is that by the finish line. At the edge of my tunnel vision. Something in a black drape. His head is turning. No, focus. You are almost there. The Olympic gold is in sight. You are the fastest man in the world. Smile. 4 seconds.
There is something about this figure. Can’t take my eyes off him. Oh my god, Its looking right at me! Jesus Christ! Focus, straightahead. You are imagining things. Speed! To the finish. Mother fuck! Damn, the heart is pounding. 3 seconds.
FUCK! My chest just exploded! What the fuck is happening? Endure the pain. It will pass. The fucking finish line is just in front. Reach for it. Bend forward. Ignore the pain. My god, the pain! ARGH! Finish the fucking race, you coward! BREATHE! 2 seconds.
NO! Something’s wrong. The ground is coming up at me. Why?! NO! Finish the race. Finish it. So close. Hold back the pain. Hold back the light. That damn bright light. You can do it. Breathe. ARGH! Bear it. You are an Olympian. There it is, the last 5 metres.
Here I go. Lean forward, and cross the line. I’m so tired. Lie down. My chest! Where am I? Ah yes, the finish. I am at the end. At last. My god, the pain, its unbearable. I’m dying, I think. Never mind. I’ve done it. I’ve won. Its all that matters. I have it. The gold. I’m the fastest man… alive.
Yes, this is what you've been training for all year. All your life. Just this instance. Just the next minute, and you'd have lived your dream. This is what its all about. The final 100m. Breathe.... Breathe.... the start is coming soon. Get ready. Everyone is counting on you. Mom, little bro, your wife, or soon to be wife. Right after you get the gold. Yes. You need the money. She needs the money. No nervousness now. Feel the calm. Get in the zone. Keep all these thoughts out. Hoo.... Hooo..... breathe. Tip-toe. Stay frosty. Keep your muscles warm.
Move to the line. Do not have a false start. Keep your twitching in control. Soon, your muscles will be in full burn. They will explode and you will not feel the ache. You will be the fastest. You are the man. Yes you are. Fingers and knuckles down. Legs in. Bend and flex your knees. Yes. Breathe. That's it. Look at the others. Nervous. They are fearful of you. You and your smile. Killer grin. They are putty in your hands. They will be in your wake. You are in the centre lane. Look up. The finishing line is there. Right across, ready for the taking. Hooo.... Hooo.... Breathe.... Sweaty palms. Its fine. You can do it. Pay attention. Hear the angels sing. Feel the beat of your pounding heart. Here comes the gun.
Last gasp. No turning back now. Only forward. This is it. Since high school. Since college. This is what you were born to do. This is your destiny. Have a last look down. You are a catapult. Your muscles will not fail you. They are primed and ready. They are taut, ready to spring. At the sound. Wait for it. Hear it the instant its uttered. Its waiting for you too. To come together. The symphony of you. The beauty of the dash. All the elements are here now, together. Right now. Breathe. Look up. Ready…… Steady……. GO!
Move Move MOVE! Come ON! Blast forward. Jerk. Swing your arms. Swing them. Stretch forward. Reach. Burst. Go Go Go! Shit, the guy on the right is actually good. I can see him by the corner. No worries. That was a good start. The finish is running up to me. Just 8 more seconds.
Dash Dash dash! The ground is disappearing below you. Behind you. The rest flying up to meet your feet. Your spikes eating into their soul, chewing up the distance between. There is nothing between you and your goal. Nothing can beat you. 7 seconds. Wasn’t that a song once? Move move move!
Feel it. Feel the wind. Feel the air whizzing by. Feel your feet sliding each other. Feel your arms in mechanical excellence. Feel your lungs in maximum capacity. Feel your wings flap. Feel it, the victory. The ultimate goal. 6 seconds.
Concentrate! There is only the now. There is no tomorrow. Open your legs wider. Further. Faster. Stronger. Explosive force. Kill your legs. Feel the momentum. Embrace the cheer. Feel the love. Earn it. Fly fly fly! 5 seconds. Soon.
Wait, what is that by the finish line. At the edge of my tunnel vision. Something in a black drape. His head is turning. No, focus. You are almost there. The Olympic gold is in sight. You are the fastest man in the world. Smile. 4 seconds.
There is something about this figure. Can’t take my eyes off him. Oh my god, Its looking right at me! Jesus Christ! Focus, straightahead. You are imagining things. Speed! To the finish. Mother fuck! Damn, the heart is pounding. 3 seconds.
FUCK! My chest just exploded! What the fuck is happening? Endure the pain. It will pass. The fucking finish line is just in front. Reach for it. Bend forward. Ignore the pain. My god, the pain! ARGH! Finish the fucking race, you coward! BREATHE! 2 seconds.
NO! Something’s wrong. The ground is coming up at me. Why?! NO! Finish the race. Finish it. So close. Hold back the pain. Hold back the light. That damn bright light. You can do it. Breathe. ARGH! Bear it. You are an Olympian. There it is, the last 5 metres.
Here I go. Lean forward, and cross the line. I’m so tired. Lie down. My chest! Where am I? Ah yes, the finish. I am at the end. At last. My god, the pain, its unbearable. I’m dying, I think. Never mind. I’ve done it. I’ve won. Its all that matters. I have it. The gold. I’m the fastest man… alive.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
State of My World Address
In a deeper funk, I've never been in. Its not like I've been depressed, but rather, a loss of direction in the day to day functions of my bodily existence. My mind wanders aimlessly down the corridors of sane consciousness. Could somebody please pull me up by the hook or stick a needle into my inner voodoo.
So I'd been delving into the tactile and mind-fucking experiences that my sordid life has to offer. Besides the aforementioned porn experiment with google adsense(which failed miserably), I'd also tried my hands at other experiments, like trying to see how fast I can get a pot-belly (pretty easy, this one. Just keep eating, and how joyous it is, shoving sinful crap into my oral-fice), how much sleep I can have on a given afternoon (result: practically the entire afternoon, given the right temperature and ambient luminosity levels), and resorting my voluminous comic collection (which gives me great nerdy joy pronto every time, like seeing a complete list of gobbledygook having been sorted by bucket sort or even Microsoft Excel).
Well, I suppose one of the reasons for my lack of direction is because once again, I'm at a crossroad. While I have decided which fork to take, the impetus is in another's hands. I’d already gone for the pre-requisite interviews, and am now a puppet waiting for others to pull (or snip) the strings. This state of limbo distresses me greatly, and thus the incessant ingestion of over-the-head yummy goodness, from granola to cornflakes, noodles to chips, ice-cream to chocolate, cheese to salads. While these may look healthy individually, let’s put it into perspective. I had them all on the same day. Within a 12 hour period. With neither a break nor an exercise regiment in between. How soon before I lose the luxury of seeing my toes when I stand straight (which is the test of whether you’ve a pot belly or not)?
So this past week, I had been paper trading again. Can’t lose the passion, or the drive, and attraction of fast wins and amazing losses. This pull to take risk is really a genetic trait that I cannot overcome. I’d jump out of a plane, or go on a killer roller coaster ride any day, over a massage or even a shopping spree, much as I love to shop. I almost traded today, and the truth is that I should have. I gave my broker an order to execute, which wasn’t followed through. Then the theories that I had learnt contradicted my previous order, which was still valid and was awaiting execution again. My broker advised me to go with the theory also. I cancelled my order, and waited for the conditions of the theory to be more exact before enacting.
Then the market laughed in my face, hit my initial order’s conditions, and ran away, all the way to the bank that I failed to open an account in.
I could’ve made 2000 bucks today. And that pretty much is in the same vein of the entire week. Coulda woulda shoulda. Hindsight is 20/20. Does anyone make contact lenses for Life?
The news has been depressing lately. Israel and Palestinian conflicts are on the rise again, over the capture of an Israeli soldier. Constant attacks on Gaza, hitting on their infrastructure by helicopter gunships, and rocket retaliation from the militia injuring inncent bystanders, really became numbing as the week wore on. There has to be an agenda going on. Perhaps it is to draw attention to the ineptitude of the new Palestinian authority to control its citizen army. I mean, why hasn’t the Mossad just gone in and get the Lance Corporal out? SHEESH. Easy Peasy to them.
And of course good old spoilt lil’ Kim decided to fire off his phallic symbols into the sea. One even of sizable proportions that fizzled out 40 secs into its performance. Not even a 1-min man, it seems. Empty threats that got everyone’s panties in a knot. Can’t we all just invade and get all those starving children out of there?
The World Cup trudges on. At this point, we are left with 2 matches, for the finals and the fight for the 3rd placing. I’d only gotten into the action in the semi-finals. All the action before was just too boring. I hope France wins. Thierry Henry, I like. The Italians just look too damn scruffy for my taste. But then again, football is a ruffian’s game. And chicks dig Italians. Must be due to the fact that they do not understand what the guys are saying, hence they cannot say anything wrong to piss them off.
The Truth? Master your Destiny. Follow your course. Everything happens for a reason. Question those reasons constantly.
This has been your voice of despair. Weep openly.
So I'd been delving into the tactile and mind-fucking experiences that my sordid life has to offer. Besides the aforementioned porn experiment with google adsense(which failed miserably), I'd also tried my hands at other experiments, like trying to see how fast I can get a pot-belly (pretty easy, this one. Just keep eating, and how joyous it is, shoving sinful crap into my oral-fice), how much sleep I can have on a given afternoon (result: practically the entire afternoon, given the right temperature and ambient luminosity levels), and resorting my voluminous comic collection (which gives me great nerdy joy pronto every time, like seeing a complete list of gobbledygook having been sorted by bucket sort or even Microsoft Excel).
Well, I suppose one of the reasons for my lack of direction is because once again, I'm at a crossroad. While I have decided which fork to take, the impetus is in another's hands. I’d already gone for the pre-requisite interviews, and am now a puppet waiting for others to pull (or snip) the strings. This state of limbo distresses me greatly, and thus the incessant ingestion of over-the-head yummy goodness, from granola to cornflakes, noodles to chips, ice-cream to chocolate, cheese to salads. While these may look healthy individually, let’s put it into perspective. I had them all on the same day. Within a 12 hour period. With neither a break nor an exercise regiment in between. How soon before I lose the luxury of seeing my toes when I stand straight (which is the test of whether you’ve a pot belly or not)?
So this past week, I had been paper trading again. Can’t lose the passion, or the drive, and attraction of fast wins and amazing losses. This pull to take risk is really a genetic trait that I cannot overcome. I’d jump out of a plane, or go on a killer roller coaster ride any day, over a massage or even a shopping spree, much as I love to shop. I almost traded today, and the truth is that I should have. I gave my broker an order to execute, which wasn’t followed through. Then the theories that I had learnt contradicted my previous order, which was still valid and was awaiting execution again. My broker advised me to go with the theory also. I cancelled my order, and waited for the conditions of the theory to be more exact before enacting.
Then the market laughed in my face, hit my initial order’s conditions, and ran away, all the way to the bank that I failed to open an account in.
I could’ve made 2000 bucks today. And that pretty much is in the same vein of the entire week. Coulda woulda shoulda. Hindsight is 20/20. Does anyone make contact lenses for Life?
The news has been depressing lately. Israel and Palestinian conflicts are on the rise again, over the capture of an Israeli soldier. Constant attacks on Gaza, hitting on their infrastructure by helicopter gunships, and rocket retaliation from the militia injuring inncent bystanders, really became numbing as the week wore on. There has to be an agenda going on. Perhaps it is to draw attention to the ineptitude of the new Palestinian authority to control its citizen army. I mean, why hasn’t the Mossad just gone in and get the Lance Corporal out? SHEESH. Easy Peasy to them.
And of course good old spoilt lil’ Kim decided to fire off his phallic symbols into the sea. One even of sizable proportions that fizzled out 40 secs into its performance. Not even a 1-min man, it seems. Empty threats that got everyone’s panties in a knot. Can’t we all just invade and get all those starving children out of there?
The World Cup trudges on. At this point, we are left with 2 matches, for the finals and the fight for the 3rd placing. I’d only gotten into the action in the semi-finals. All the action before was just too boring. I hope France wins. Thierry Henry, I like. The Italians just look too damn scruffy for my taste. But then again, football is a ruffian’s game. And chicks dig Italians. Must be due to the fact that they do not understand what the guys are saying, hence they cannot say anything wrong to piss them off.
The Truth? Master your Destiny. Follow your course. Everything happens for a reason. Question those reasons constantly.
This has been your voice of despair. Weep openly.
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