A Study (A Soul)

She stands as pale as Parian statues stand;
Like Cleopatra when she turned at bay,
And felt her strength above the Roman sway,
And felt the aspic writhing in her hand.
Her face is steadfast toward the shadowy land,
For dim beyond it looms the light of day;
Her feet are steadfast; all the arduous way
That foot-track hath not wavered on the sand.
She stands there like a beacon thro' the night,
A pale clear beacon where the storm-drift is;
She stands alone, a wonder deathly white;
She stands there patient, nerved with inner might,
Indomitable in her feebleness,
Her face and will athirst against the light.

Christina Rossetti

Why I hate romantic comedies...

I think hate is a very strong adjective to use here...More of dislike rather. Anyway, that's beside the point. There has been this entire genre of movies that has captivated audiences around the world. It is true that some of the best movies I have seen are romantic comedies, but it is really too much.

Firstly, I am not romantically linked with anybody. There is no point in watching these sort of films if you do not have a girlfriend. It somewhat defeats the purpose of watching it. Unless you are a naive idealist who believes in love at first site, or the other common cliches. Next, romantic comedies have these rather repetitive plot structure. At first, the two leads do not like each other, then they fall in love without knowing it and after a tiff, they realise how much they love each other and they kiss and make up. How overused is that! Finally, always the same actors appear in such movies. Julia Roberts, Meg Ryan, Tom Hanks blah blah blah...You get the drill. Should I watch these movies in the future? Maybe. When I get somebody special or I become too bored of the "mentally stimulating" films I usually watch.

Music I Heard

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart that you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,
—They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

Conrad Aiken

Understanding People

Why is it so hard to understand people at times? Why do people react the way they do? It is inevitable that people react differently to a particular situation, but sometimes the ability to react to these emotions seems to elude me. People expect you to react to them according to their own needs. But sometimes it is hard to do that. It is not easy to satisfy everybody and take into consideration all of their feelings at the same time. I have my own set of beliefs and standards too. But, that is the hard fact of life, and I don't believe it is going to change any sooner...

Wow...I posted poems from both husband and wife.

The Thought-Fox

I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.

Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox's nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come

Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business

Till, with sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

Ted Hughes

Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful --
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish

Sylvia Plath

Things to be Sad About



Failure. Loss. Insecurity. Emptiness. Fear. These are all things to be sad about and they were all summed up in the movie "House of Sand & Fog". I was bored and I borrowed this movie from the store. Partly because I wasn't able to catch it in the theatres, as I was in New Zealand for Exercise Thunder Warrior. It was a good film. Almost flawless acting and beautiful scenes with the sun setting on the horizon. But, the movie has left me utterly depressed and melancholic. The two main characters mirrored each other in terms of their flaws and their emotional burdens. Why is there so much death and destruction? Just because of one house, it has shattered the lives of so many people. Nearly every character in the movie had an unhappy ending. Well, life isn't a fairytale. But, all in all, I still enjoyed the movie thoroughly.

A moody poem by a moody poet for a moody friend...

As Bad as a Mile

Watching the shield core
Striking the basket, skidding across the floor,
Shows less and less of luck, and more and more

Of failure spreading back up the arm
Earlier and earlier, the unraised hand calm,
The apple unbitten in the palm.

Philip Larkin

Philosophy and Literature

Philosophy and literature are embattled adversaries. The eyes of philosophers see through the opaqueness of the world, eliminate the flesh of it, reduce the variety of existing things to a spider's web of relationships between general ideas, fix the rules according to which a finite number of pawns moving on a chessboard exhaust a number of combinations that may even be infinite. Along come the writers and replace the abstract chessmen with kings and queens, knights and castles, all with a name, a particular shape, and a series of attributes royal, equine, or eccelesiastical; instead of a chessboard they roll out great dusty battlefields or stormy seas. So at this point the rules of the game are too topsy-turvy, revealing an order of things quite different from that of the philosophers. Or, rather, the people who discover these new rules of the game are once again the philosophers, who dash back to demonstrate that this operation wrought by the writers can be reduced to the terms of one of their own operations, and that the particular castles and bishops were nothing but general ideas in disguise.

"The Literature Machine" by Italo Calvino

The World Is Too Much With Us

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.

William Wordsworth

World Book Day 2004

23rd of April 2004. For those who do not know, or have never been to Kinokuniya for the past few weeks, this day is considered under the UN as World Book Day. I dunno why they need to do such a thing. Maybe because lesser people in the world are reading. Maybe some of these people lack the means and access to literature and literacy. But, nonetheless, it should be a day worth commemorating. Since Shakespeare and Cervantes supposedly died on this very day, well, what better day can the UN choose?

This poem is a tribute to those who have passed away in the Nicoll Highway collapse. My heartfelt condolences...

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W.H. Auden

Let's Be Bo Liao...

Exactly what happened today? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! I had a rather disturbing nap which led to an almost delirious rage. Trying to find the guy who imprinted me with the KMC chop while I was napping...Why can't I sleep in peace? You don't see me going around, disturbing other ppl's sleep. Got my one hour's worth of sleep later. The medical centre has a new water cooler! So shiny! I can even see my reflection! But the water has a certain "artificial" taste...Dunno why. Also, had this terrible cold the entire day. So irritating. Well, that's about it, chronologically speaking. What else can I actually say?

Plenty of Help

At last, the blog looks so much better on the design front. Most of the design faults have been altered, with the help of my friends. Or actually, I didn't really help much and my friend did most of the tweaking. But nevertheless, the blog has been revamped. All I have to do now is to acknowledge the contributions of this particular person and hopefully, he will be slightly flattered and treat me to something tomorrow! Ha ha! Just kidding. Looking forward to writing more interesting entries in the future.

Reminscing about IKEA

I haven't been to Ikea for nearly three years now. But, since my mother wanted to buy a new chair for my father, I took this opportunity to follow her on her quest. As I stepped into the store, that old wood smell greeted me again. I remembered the time when broke a vase while I was playing with my mother's handbag. Swinging the bag to and fro, until I saw the blue vase shaking from its position. I tried to grab it, but it was too late. It was the first and only time I broke something. Ever since that incident, I had this phobia of breaking stuff...

Also, I used to have this obsession over salt and pepper shakers when I was young. Everytime the Ikea ads advertised about them, I would immediately pester my parents to bring me to Ikea. Now, I can't even be bothered about them...

1st Stage of Redesigning

As you can see, I have given the blog a huge makeover. It's cleaner, simpler and brighter. I got rid of the blue coloured text at last! But, it is not entirely perfect. I need to edit and modify some areas and hopefully, the revamp will be complete. Please give your suggestions! If you don't like it, I can always revert to the old design as I have saved it in a Word file already.

Design Problems

Been thinking about trying to redesign the entire blog, since I'm on off again these two days. But, I still lack the technical know-how, especially in terms of the HTML script thing. I'm not a computer genius, and I'm definitely not the sort who likes to experiment. I like to work with certain guidelines and at the moment, I can't seem to be able to find any. Maybe it is sheer laziness or lack of originality and inspiration. See how it goes. I got my father to get Dreamweaver from the office. But, I don't that will help a great deal. Like I said, I am not very computer savvy.

Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast As Thou Art

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

John Keats

Just Some Thoughts...

Just been thinking...That in reality, nobody can be told to act his or her age. They just act the way they are, but often than not, they do not characteristically act their age.

Children are just like teenagers. They have their own childish fads and they always want to be like their friends. Teenagers always want to act older, and be seen as an adult. Trying to get into a relationship as quickly as possible, trying to make decisions on their own. But they ultimately act like overgrown children and make a total fool of themselves. Adults, especially middle-aged ones, want to act as though they are 16. Yearning to be young and youthful. Complaining and constantly reminscing their youth. After all this, they end up remorseful and bitter. Finally, the elderly, they don't act their age not because they don't want to, but they have no choice. With illnesses like Alzheimer's Disease creeping in, it is not a surprise that some old people can act like babies.

Age is a relative sort of thing. One should not be confined to his physical age, but also they should also sometimes reflect on their actions, to avoid the mistake of "not acting their age".

Meeting At Night

The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

Robert Browning

I just can't get enough of Robert Frost...

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

Hunger & Hypnosis

Just booked out an hour ago. Funny what hunger can do to a person. Had not eaten for about eight hours, and sat in a mini bus for about four hours. The driver kept on making rather huge detours around the island and poor me had to endure for that amount of time. While I was waiting for my mum to pick me up, my mind suddenly snapped. I stared blankly at the road and was hypnotised by the many cars that drove by. What pretty lights, I thought. I was trying to mentally calculate the speed of the cars driving by, but to no avail. I just kept on staring and trying to make out every single model, until my mother started blowing the car horn. See what hunger can do to the mind...

Pedals & Pipes

Well, that was the concert I attended yesterday. A rather refreshing experience I must say. I can't get into the musical details, as I am musically illiterate, if there is such a thing. A lot of nice tunes from the movies. I particularly liked music from "Star Wars" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark". The "Lord of the Rings" part of the concert was rather haunting, but also thoroughly enjoyable. I was quite amused by the fact that the performers kept bowing while the audience kept on clapping. Nobody knew when to stop! Tons of primary and secondary school students and their teachers. Kept sneezing throughout the concert though, thus marred my enjoyment to an extent. Finally, I kind of realise that the Esplanade is a rather romantic place to be in. Just to soak in the atmosphere, admire Singapore's night scenery and enjoy a quiet moment... Too bad I was alone though...

She Walks In Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron

A "Shocking" Experience

I had the most fortunate opportunity to attend the AED course at SMM today. What a sense of deja vu. Walking back to that building where I had spent about three months of my NS life, it certainly brought back memories.

The AED course wasn't exactly as challenging as I thought it would be, so guys back in KMC, if you are reading this, don't worry! I managed to catch up with a lot of my old platoon mates during CMC Course, so much fun! All going through Spec II course now--mainly the MRF ones. Their hair is so short! But, sincerely, I do not know who is having a better life, me or them? Also, I talked to the other medics who were attending the same course as me, and even some of the old instructors. Funny how much they can bitch with you when you are not a trainee...

Rants and Assorted Complaints

Crap! Crap! Crap! Today is such a crappy day. Or rather, this week will be such a crappy week. After a nice, long, relaxing Good Friday weekend, I must be confronted with so much nonsense! Why can't ppl just leave me alone?

I do admit RSM can be a rather nice guy, but that doesn't give him the excuse to irritate me? Why does he have to resort to acting this way in front of nearly everybody in the unit? Just my luck that I was in the same bunk as him during Exercise Thunder Warrior. Everybody's going to call me "RSM's pet". CRAP!!! Sounds much worse than teacher's pet. I think I have to bury my head like an ostrich, as my name in the unit is blemished for good. Sigh...Sigh...Sigh...

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

It's Easter!

Wow! It's Easter already! After all the moaning and groaning, the kneeling and the tears, we have finally come to the joyous season of Easter. To bad it is not a big deal in Singapore. Why, in most European countries, Monday is a public holiday. Oh well...Anyway, I have this one burning question about Easter. What does Easter got to do with bunnies? I see no religious implication or symbolism surrounding rabbits. So why the big fuss? Does it represent new life like the Easter eggs and butterflies? I really do not know.

I attended the Easter Vigil service last night. It was quite fun as I got to play with candles! And also, there was a lot of singing involved. The choir was good too. But, the mass was a bit too long--2 hours long. As long as a movie. But, way better than some movie experiences I've had.

Speaking about movies, why is it always the case that "The Prince of Egypt", is always screened on TV during this time of year? It gets rather repetitive, and seriously, the parting of the Red Sea episode is not as awe-inspiring as I first watched it in the theatres. Now, it is relegated to that of a Good Friday weekend movie. Just like "The Ten Commandments" and "Ben Hur" before...

The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth

Longing

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me!

Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth,
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say, My love why sufferest thou?

Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.

Matthew Arnold

The Road Home

Yesterday, I flipped across the television channels to find one of my favourite Mandarin movies, "Wo de fu qin mu qin", or directly translated, "My Parents". However, somehow the translation got lost and its English title became "The Road Home". Such a bittersweet love story between a peasant girl and a teacher in a rural Chinese village. From a mere infatuation, it blossomed into a deep and undying love for one another. One of Zhang Ziyi's better performances, as compared to the hyped-up "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon". This movie never ceases to stir my emotions and in my opinion one of China's cinematic gems.

Good Friday

Dies irae, dies illa
solvet saeclum in favilla,
teste David cum Sybilla.

Quantus tremor est futurus,
quando judex est venturus,
cuncta stricte discussurus. ---Excerpt from the Dies Irae

The clock struck three in the afternoon. And thus, the prophecy has been fulfilled. Christ has died. A day of mourning. A day of solitude. A day of repentance.

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,

Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the Nazarene

Thou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,
See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!

Emily Dickinson

Had a very meaningful and fruitful night. The service was rather long and ceremonial, but that is what Catholic masses are like. Also, I got to experiment with my digital camera, with mixed results.

The highlight of the night was the churching. My family and I managed to visit six churches throughout the island. But the church which wowed me the most was the Church of St. Mary of the Angels in Bukit Batok. Just look at the pic, and you will definitely agree.



Just to take stock, these are the churches I visited tonight, in order:

1) Church of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Serangoon)
2) Church of St Mary of the Angels (Bukit Batok)
3) Church of St Joseph (Bukit Timah)
4) Church of Our Lady, Star of the Sea (Yishun)
5) Church of St Vincent de Paul (Seletar)
6) Church of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Hougang)

Pélerinage

Life is a pilgrimage. The wise man does not rest by the roadside inns. He marches direct to the illimitable domain of eternal bliss, his ultimate destination.---Oscar Wilde

Maundy Thursday. The beginning of Holy Week in the Liturgical Calendar. Today, I begin my journey, kind of like a mini-pilgrimage. I will be going to several churches around Singapore, to reflect and ponder over the last few hours before Christ's death. The mood will be sombre, and kind of reflective. But, that's the way I like it. It will be a day,or rather night, I will look forward to.

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti

A Day of Utmost Satisfaction

Yay! I am on off today and tomorrow! At last, away from all the 'hustle and bustle' of work, and more glorious hours of sleep. I need the sleep as the days ahead will be rather hectic. Anyway, I am feeling pretty good today. I finally got a digital camera. Not that free one I got from some weird Starhub promotion. That camera can be summed up in one word--pathetic! Just look at the quality of the ONLY picture on the blog...I bought this camera with my well-earned allowance, you know! Can't wait to lay my hands on it tomorrow. Stay tuned to the blog for better quality pics!

Saddest Poem

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

Pablo Neruda

I Am Feeling Scandalous!

It's been a rather long time since I have felt this way. Too caught up with work I guess. Or maybe the mind had been too occupied with more serious thoughts. But, away with philosophy and intelligent talk! A scandal's abrewing and I feel so light-headed. A little gossip a day, keeps the blues away!

To be continued....Muahahaha!

On Perfection

I saw a rainbow today. It wasn't even raining in the morning, yet there it was, staring back at me. It was a really beautiful one and the colours could be seen very clearly. The rainbow has always been said to be a symbol of perfection. But, on this particular day, I found a small little fault in it. It was not the usual rainbow, in its full splendour. It was only a partial rainbow, and after a while, it soon disappeared from sight.

This leads to the topic of perfection. In Singapore, the government is obsessed with this particular concept. Being a meritocracy, it strives to produce picture-perfect people to govern and control major sectors of the country. But, do perfect people actually exist in the world? Out of the hundreds of people who apply for scholarships, almost all of them have stirling academic results, are good in whatever CCAs they pursue and have wonderful and charming personalities. They are also good in sports and sometimes they can speak another language and play a musical instrument.

But, what is the point of having so many of such people in the higher echelons of society? In life, even the most perfect of people have their flaws, just like the rainbow. In many of Shakespeare's plays, the main character usually has a tragic or major flaw in them. It is this flaw that makes Shakespeare's characters memorable and endearing. Thus, it is not in perfection, that people are appreciated for, but the ability to admit that he or she has his own faults, and be able to turn these faults into their strengths. That is the true measure of a person, in my opinion.

A personal favourite of mine. Enjoy!

Acquainted With The Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Robert Frost

The Arts vs Science Debate

Science may set limits to knowledge, but should not set limits to imagination.
---Bertrand Russell (1872 - 1970)

I am currently reading "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time" by Mark Haddon. It is, I must say an interesting piece of work, as it delves into many, and I mean, many aspects of life. It deals with change, love, loss and a whole bunch of stuff. But, it is human psychology that really draws me to the book.

The narrator is autistic, thus he views the world in a entire different way from normal people. But, in my opinion, he is not a very endearing character. His mind is extremely logical, to the extent of not appreciating anything artistic, at all. This somewhat infuriates me, being an Arts student. Many of my friends, would enjoy this book, as it is filled with weird mathematical hypotheses and what not. His chapters are also all in prime numbers, imagine that. But I do acknowledge the fact that Mark Haddon is a brilliant author, in his ability to flesh out such a believable character.

I have yet to finish the book, but one conclusion I have made is that science, despite its prevalence and usefulness, isn't the centre of the universe. Art, culture and literature have their basis in science too, and should not be neglected and tossed away. In Singapore, the humanities is said to be the easy way out or for students who are too stupid, and thus can't handle the complexities of physics and chemistry. But, as in the example of the book, science (i.e. logic) can still blend with literature to make a captivating read.

To Believe or Not to Believe

04/04/04. It is said that this day is the unluckiest day of the entire year, at least according to the more superstitious people around. Because 'four' means means 'death' in Cantonese, in case you did not know. I am not sure whether to believe such a thing. When you say that you don't believe in some sort of superstition, eventually it will happen to you. When you say you believe in it, your subconscious will suddenly play with your mind, and weird and freaky things will happen to you. This may seem nonsensical to some people, but it is usually safer not to mess around with things you have no control over.

Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.

--Sailing to Byzantium, lines 25 to 32 by W.B. Yeats

Much Ado About Palms

Today is Palm Sunday. Well, it is not actually Sunday, but I had to attend church a day earlier, due to the fact that I have got duty on Sunday. Sigh...Anyway, as I was about to enter, I saw a group of people crowding around a box. The usual grabbing of the best palms, I suspected. And my suspicions were valid. But, what is the meaning of the palm? The focus of the entire mass was these palms. Yet, the salient meaning of the palms has been lost to the totally Singaporean concept of kiasuism, even in church. The palm represented the joyful welcoming of Jesus Christ into Jerusalem. Ironically, it was these same ppl who will eventually become the greatest hypocrites in history, and demand his crucifixion. The basis of commemorating Good Friday.

We also acted out the Passion today. Kind of reminded me of the movie. Not as spectacular dramatically, but equally heart wrenching. "Crucify him. Crucify him." These words remained etched in my mind.

The Value of Music

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.
---Aldous Huxley (1894 - 1963)

After receiving a comment, my mind started jogging. Where does music get its value? From the musical score? From the words the songwriter pens down? Or is it from the voice which delivers the song? I believe it is all of these components, or at least a combination of certain factors. Even a song in a foreign language may be melodious to the untrained ear. Words can inspire, music can soothe the soul and the voice can melt a person's heart. It does not really matter.

I regret not learning music, or a musical instrument. Laziness and childish stubborness attributed to this. As I grew a lot older, I sometimes get very jealous seeing my friends playing the piano or the violin effortlessly. Maybe I lack the talent, but I don't lack the appreciation. I will make this one of my lifetime goals. Not a new year's resolution, but a committed goal.

The Value of Life

"It's a rather boring day today." That was what I used to write when I was too lazy to think of anything to say in the personal diary we had to keep for English lessons. That was in primary school if I recall properly. But, more apparently so, there seems to be a lack of things happening around me. Not that I want anything major to happen in the medical centre. Casualties are such a nuisance at times, but I do not have much of a choice. But that's life. Life cannot be filled with interesting events all the time. After a while, these so-called exciting things eventually become boring again. So what is the use of life? To live to the fullest? Or to live until you become bored of it? That is the harsh and sad reality of life. Sigh...

Va, pensiero, sull'ali dorate;
va, ti posa sui clivi, sui colli,
ove olezzano tepide e molli
l'aure dolci del suolo natal!

~Lyrics from Va, pensiero~

Why do words somehow sound nicer in a foreign language that you do not understand? Anyway, I just bought an album by Russell Watson. That's where I got the lyrics. What a wonderfully charming voice he has. Highly recommended.

Oh, I am fortune's fool!
--William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet (III, I, 141)

Today's April Fool's Day. Woke up a bit earlier than usual, only to be fooled by the oldest trick in the book--the cockroach on your ____ trick. Hate that feeling. Makes you feel so very, very stupid. That was not the only instance where I got tricked. But, the more I think about it, the more idiotic I feel. Ironically, today was also the unit's 31st anniversary. Ran around a bit, played a few games, had a few laughs. Got to book out early. Got to fool somebody and be fooled again. Despite all this, perhaps being fooled may not be such a bad thing. I better to be fooled on April Fool's Day, rather than on a more important occasion.