Dreams

There he stood by the window, his palms pressed onto the blackened panes as he stared into the infinite beyond. Motionless, he remained there and did not flinch even as a bug scurried up his leg. He stood there, lost in a world stretching far beyond his blood shot eyes. The scene of dancing butterflies, hovering dragonflies, bustling bees in an elaborate garden with a quaint little pond stood before him, but yet he did not see it. Truly, the issues of life ran far deeper than the superficial beauty of life which, as he perceived, to penetrate no further than skin-deep. And thoughts danced and swirled into an intricate labyrinth...

Why do you remain behind these tinted panes?

Are you the master of your fate; the captain of your soul. or little more than a deluded slave of destiny?

Echoes of Silence

Chilly is the wind which billows through the utter greyness. Into the silent nights do these wisps dissipate. A tinge of gloom lingers in the air, prying its necrosed fingers through the crevices of its crypt. A ring of silence echoes through the vast chambers before fading into the darkness.

I have long since learnt to release bitterness and hatred stored up. Its departure left an indelible mark of emptiness. The absence of negative emotions does not automatically mean that positive emotions are present for there could be nothing but a hollow shell.

I have tasted the contempt of many in the distant past; what difference does a little bile at present make?

Pushing Ahead

Sorry guys for the lack of blogging activity. I've been engaged in a major project lately as some of you guys are aware. It's been a major battle not only externally but internally as well. Refer the immediate post below this.

The hectic pace of AUSMAT life has somewhat slowed down this week. I feel relieved and yet not so. This lull is the calm before the storm which moves ashore at the end of this month, my trials! Then my finals shall commence in early November. I should be worried and tense but I'm not. And I have no idea why the feeling of urgency has not kicked in yet, if it ever will. Weirdly, I can sense the winds of freedom billowing after the storms. Perhaps I have finally learnt to look beyond the storms.

Ripples

The first white pebble is cast in the midst of a long drawn frigid night. It pierces the delicate silvery skin of the forlorn lake, and it unleashes its energy concealed beneath its benign appearance. The first shock waves rush outward in every direction. The polished portrait of perfection is shattered in an instant. Its reverberations echo through the entire body of water as water laps along the parched edges. As the energy dissipates into the depths of darkness, silence falls once more.

Back to the Wilderness

I find myself staring at the leaves drifting past once again. A deafening silence cloaks me despite the rustling of those withered leaves. I am staring ahead, and yet I am not; for I am truly far away exploring the hidden crevices in my mind. I do not know how many masks have I shuffled through the past week, but I know for sure that I have exhausted my entire wardrobe of masks. For one thing, every mask worn eventually demands a payment in terms of emotions for its service rendered.

The burning throbbing sensation on my palms does not cease. My hands glow of crimson and I writhe because of the wounds inflicted not by a foe, but by a friend. Deep indeed are the wounds made by a trusted one. Perhaps friends have changed, or perhaps I have erred in perceiving the true situation. Yet the wounds do not account for the sheer volume of blood on my hands. The blood of another mingles with that of mine. I cannot escape this scene. There is little to be said except that this guilt has opened the floodgates of bitter memories. I’m sorry for that all that has been said and done. I may be forgiven, but I do not know if I can forgive myself.

Perhaps it is time for me to return back to where I have always been more at home. The wilderness of the mind is a land where the laws of nature hold no sway over. There is neither life nor death planted in the dust. Driven here by my unwanted hand of mortis, it will do no harm here. I have come to realize that my gauntlet wrecks havoc on all matter it touches. I have little choice but to depart from civilisation not for my sake, but for the sake of others. I have had enough of my social missteps and the harm wrought upon others. No one, save God will understand why I do what I do. No one, save God will understand how I feel at times. Here my sole companion, loneliness awaits me to resume my journey. She stands there in silence, imploring me to move out. She has followed me most of the days of my life, and I suspect she will accompany me till I reach my dusty grave. The dry harsh winds have issued forth their call. And so I shall wander forth into the gray horizons.

Pale Dawn

So this is the pale dawn. A chilly gray morning, devoid of the characteristic colours that give life its flavour. No morning songs of the early bird, no striking blossoms, no fresh morning dew, no warmth from the sickly yellow sunbeams, no rejuvenated life that accompanies each sunrise. The air is frosty and heavy, it smothers and casts a heavy shadow of gloom on those who dare to step upon this path. It is no less of a tragedy each time one's life loses its taste and its pulse runs weak.

Tragic, isn't it? In truth, sunrise is not so dismal; but it is the eyes and ears of one which remain shut. Such is a person that he can go through life without sensing its wonders. Surely this has not been imposed on that individual against his own will. The truth could be not any further from that. Ultimately, it is the person who chooses to embrace such deafness and blindness by allowing himself to be choked by the world. We will all undergo the trials that is to come. Whether we sink and drown or soar over the storms is in our hands.

Why are you cast down, O my soul?
And why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him
For the help of His countenance.

Psalm 42:5

Voyages

Drifting from one signpost to another, each bearing a vague name of its own, marking the arrival at yet another station of life. What eases the passage from one station to another? The currency of maturity, as I have realised, is essential in lubricating the journey from one outpost to another. Nevertheless, some are naturally endowed in abundance, others must accrue it by undertaking painful journeys to distant places while many simply scrape through life dealing with what little life has afforded them with.

Maturity greases the wheels by which one travels through life. It gives the one who has more of it an edge in dealing with the unpredictability of life. In contrary to popular belief, I firmly believe that maturity is not automatically conferred with age. I believe that it is nurtured and learnt, very much like how a child acquires language. Furthermore, as every individual has his own learning curve, likewise different people mature at varying progression rates. Some must sojourn further and for a longer duration as compared to others. In this context, I am not referring to physical journeys like pilgrimages, but rather, the mental and emotional seas that one must sail through at different stages of life. It is not the ends by itself that matters, but rather it is the journey that bestows wisdom and experience. Despite it all, I stand here unable to judge if maturity is a final destination or a lifelong journey.

A New Chapter - Kolej Cemara

It is a new dawn... Somehow a new dawn always tastes sweeter, even more so after a night of bitterness. And at long last all the tears of sorrow spilled has been replaced with that of joy and hope. I registered at Kolej Cemara today, but I have decided not to move in today, rather I will do it tomorrow. Here are a few pictures of Kolej Cemara.

Kolej Cendana - An E-Scrapbook

I shall be starting life anew for my last semester in INTEC next week! I keep reminding myself, its just a few more months, bear with it. It is just a brief station of life, a small stepping stone in the lake of life. Life should take a turn for the better next year. :)

As for my accommodation, I am moving to Kolej Cemara next week. I have seen it with my own eyes, and to put it mildly, I've seen far better dwellings. Grr... to be booted out of my previous hostel, Kolej Cendana to make way for the incoming juniors is simply annoying after living there a full year. Well, I must admit that I was quite apprehensive about moving there initially. It is a tad bit isolated but at least security was not much of an issue, being located next to a police station. I certainly will not miss the mamak restaurant Dawood, the only decent restaurant in the vicinity. Ever since moving there, I feel sick of mamak fare. It is something I could do without nowadays. The haphazard (non-existent) parking system there was quite inconvenient at times. The need to keep our furry(?) legs out of sight when out of the rooms was pretty dumb too. Those admins must suffer from leg-hair envy. Heh...

Despite its shortcomings, Cendana will always have a place in my memories. It was a place where many a friendships were forged, and that will definitely outlast the relatively short stay in Cendana. I would suppose that it is appropriate for that to be the main avenue of forging friendships, seeing that much of my time in INTEC is spent attending classes. I'll miss those lepak sessions that lasted for hours and stretched through the nights. It was a place where I gained much experience on life and opened my mind to a different world. Prior to this, I had no friends from other parts of Malaysia, much less outside the Klang Valley. And for that, I believe that I leave Cendana for the better. For instance, I arrived at Cendana a banana (香蕉人-Haha!) , and leave it still as one, but a lesser one (半香蕉?) nevertheless. Thanks to my friends there who patiently taught me - Clarence, Vincent, Jin and the rest.

Well, I'll conclude this blog post with photos. After all, what is a scrapbook without photos?

Let the tour of Kolej Cendana begin...

Exterior view of Cendana

Welcome to Kolej Cendana...

This is the compound where the guys usually play futsal and basketball. Those colourful tents host the cafe and burger stall.


And that's a really cute kitty... Don't worry, you'll encounter more around here. The cats here breed like, erm... rabbits.

Ok la... that's all for Cendana. Tour ends here. Two blocks only ma.. What else is there to see?

What? You want to see inside my room? How can la...! Respect my privacy a bit.

*mutters grudgingly after some persuasion*

Ok, I'll let you in for awhile. Touch anything and you get your ass out of here!

I live on the 4th floor, so we have to walk up quite a bit...

And this is my room, 1406.


This is the main room, where all the study tables are


That's Clarence, my roommate, say hi!


And my bedroom, sorry for the mess.


That's me doing some math with Clarence


Wanna join in our game of Choh Dai Di?
Me(green), Benjamin(dark blue), Clarence(yellow), Brian(white)

Ok, now that we are really done with Cendana, how bout some teh tarik?

The end.

Crossroads

So the holidays have began, and will last out a whole month. A semester has ended, I've moved out of my hostel Kolej Cendana, (which I will blog about one of these days), and the last page of another chapter beckons. I shall label this chapter "Crossroads", hinting of the covert turbulence that has been rocking my vessel. As with any typical story, it began on a high note of optimism and confidence of a trouble free trek. As the cliche goes, every garden has its snake, and mine is no exception. Yes, it is a chapter littered with peals of genuine laughter and radiates human warmth, but it also harbors stains of suppressed tears and bitterness, if you were to look between the lines. The echoes of whispers uttered in darkness has reached my ears. Not once, nor twice, but more than I would actually care to enumerate.

There are trees that cannot thrive in the wastelands. Heap a tonne of manure and a river basin of water, the tree will still wilt and be ravaged eventually. Meanwhile for example, some have shown the true value of friendship, and others have done the exact opposite. I have seen with my eyes and beyond, the hearts of some, scheming to manipulate and milk others dry. I say nothing, not out of helplessness, but because I believe that it is pointless to steer a ship with a damaged rudder. It will only sail in the desired direction for so long before going astray eventually. Likewise there are those whose eyes are so clouded with their own judgmental and egoistic nature.Never mind about that for experience has taught me that the pleasant memories mingled with bitterness provides for a complete chapter. There is nothing like a dash of pain to reinforce and distinguish the reality of a dim memory from a distant dream.

Countless grains of time have fallen in a fine cascading mist marking the passage of time. I hereby list down several issues that I hope will take a turn for the better in the coming chapter:
1. Stronger willpower and calmness
2. Deflect underhanded taunts and poised knives
3. Relight the torch of hope
4. Focus on the narrow road ahead

This list is non-exhaustive and could be extended as I develop more ideas. That's all for now. Goodnight.

Masks

Masks. They are largely ingrained in popular culture with a variety of connotations. Mention the word masks, and it instantly conjures up images of innocent kids caught in the midst of their playful banter imitating superheroes or their nemesis. On the flip side of the coin, masks can also evoke sinister pictures of a sadistic serial killer prowling around in search of prey to satisfy his twisted lusts. So well, masks of varied designs occupies every rung throughout the spectrum of emotions. A mask for every occasion. Gaudy clown masks elicit laughter, white opera masks instill a sense of mystery bordering on coldness while demonic masks inspire fear and discomfort.

So how do masks work? Basically they work by granting the one who wears it a temporal personality, and the person becomes whom the mask represents. To put it simply, the mask takes over the individual and expresses its nature through that particular person.

So now what? If you've been reading my blog long enough, you should know that I do not delve into such abstract information to such depths without identifying a parallel concept in daily life. Life demands that we wear masks at times. Not literally, but in the sense where we betray our true selves and adopt a new personality to suit the occasion. No serious harm if we indulge in it occasionally for social purposes, but the risk is it becomes a part of us. Not just a mask where we can put on at will, but one that can slip in insidiously and take over us without us realizing.

I'm guilty of that as well, on more than a single occasion. I cannot ever take them off, its just an issue of switching between masks. It is a daily choice between a wide assortment and these are just to name a few : the most common - the silent indifferent "I don't care" mask; the humorless philosopher; the fatalistic griper; the stoical commentator; and probably the rarest - the bubbly cheerful crapping teen. Perhaps they each form a part of the fractal that I call "Myself". No, I will not tie them down to moods, since I am able to switch at will regardless of emotions. That is why I classify them as masks. A mask to deal with alternating situations. Which goes to say that I am meticulous in crafting a specific mask to deal with a social situation. Those whom I choose to shut out of my life, will never find a door in.

Adrift

"If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favourable" - Seneca

An unanchored vessel adrift in the vast oceans. So it seems that the sands of time have almost ceased to flow. From dawn to dusk, and then dawn once more, a routine which grinds itself into reality, effectively numbing any sense of anticipation. To be in dire want of navigational aids, yet the night is cloudy and as fate should have it, a broken compass. A distant storm brews in the horizon, its ominous presence revealed by flashes of lightning stretching across the heavens. Through each passing moment, its features are etched clearer and its hissing roar growing all the more sinister.

Up upon this forsaken deck, I feel the impending gale grazing my cheeks. I sense the reverberations echoing beneath me through the hollow wave-battered hull. I hear its silent groans of despair and decay, whispering of neglect. There is no turning back from this calamity, where the winds and waves toss the vessel, that is where it shall go. There is neither fear, dread nor trepidation, only a numbed resignation to fate. To what end this vessel meets, that will be mine too. The voyage has drawn out over the years and I have learned that the seas remain as unpredictable as ever.

Deep down within I do not have the courage to hope, much less smile just once more. As I recount the legends of those who defied society and sought out new worlds, I see the prospects of myself being ranked within their league grow dimmer with each passing day. Legends and myths which herald back to days when men sojourned to the ends of the world, seeking for a multitude of answers to the mysteries of life. To what pillars did they cling onto within as the world around them crumbled? How then did they fare through the darkest nights of melancholic solitariness?

I have undertaken this solitary journey not by choice, but rather, coerced by fate. As far as I'm concerned, few, if any will ever understand why I am aboard this vessel. Perhaps, just perhaps, those who are forced to board vessels of their own will recognize my reasons for doing so. Many question this unconventionality but the best answer I have to offer them is no more than a faint smile and a shrug. Thus, here I stand alone, the sole soul upon this derelict.

Dream Once More

Dark have been my dreams of late.
Those, those memories will never forsake me,
they clawed at wounds that never truly healed.
They casted a shroud of eternal darkness,
yet I sojourned on stained in tears and blood.
Resigned to this curse I bear on my palm
I dared not dream, much less hope once more
‘Til a single beam broke the darkness.
Perhaps a glimmer of hope lingers…

12.30 am. Should be getting ready for bed. :) Goodnight folks.

Another Tragic Chapter Ends

It is probable that I will never measure up to a particular yardstick of coolness. It is plausible that I will continue to face a volley of underhanded taunts and derision, all veiled behind the name of friendship. It is possible that I retain my mask of meekness, paint a smile daily and reinforce it with hollow peals of laughter.

Yet recent events have transpired to change my perspectives on the complex issues surrounding life. That which I cared so much about ceased to be relevant and that by which I have always placed lesser emphasis upon has been elevated in terms of priority. Likewise, I care not for cockiness and conceit of others. To express contempt towards others who lack similar endowments only invites reciprocity and retribution. If not today, surely tomorrow then when the right season comes along... However, it is not for me to strike out, as justice will be meted out by divine means or otherwise. I am a strong proponent of the belief that a fall is always preceded by pride. After all, to quote Darth Tyranus of Star Wars, "Twice the pride, double the fall". Wise words indeed from a seemingly evil character.

Thus, I am freed of my burdens which have lingered on for so long. This mental cell exists, only because I allowed it to. I falsely believed that fate had flung me into the pit, when all along I descended it with my own free will. Although the alternatives were bleak, it was a choice that I made. And it was a decision by which I must bear its consequences. Like it or not, I must deal with it or resign myself to despair. Finally, the road of sorrow by which I have trodden upon for so long now comes to an end, or so I hope. Perhaps in time I will have to stake out another often-travelled road or forge a new one in the midst of desolation. If desolation proves to be the sole alternative to a languishing societal bind, I will by all means embrace it. Nevertheless, a tragic chapter draws to an end but the end is not yet. The page turns and another chapter begins...

The holidays have just drifted past... Yes they slipped through my fingers in the blink of an eye. Holidays never fail to draw out an entire cornucopia of sentiments (that's a bundle of emotions for those of you who don't get it). In a way it serves as a timely respite from my hectic schedule. On the other hand it brings to memory those solitary days, days of old where the shards of bitterness still linger on... I have never found a truly satisfactory explanation, but that which we look forward to most, more often than not, turns out to be much less than desired. As I look in retrospect, my past holidays (this included) have been spent almost completely with my faithful companion, none other than my computer. To eat and sleep exclusively by a cold whirring machine is to lead a wretched existence indeed. An occasional trip out to 1Utama or The Curve does little to alleviate the situation. Truth be told, I did not choose this lonely lifestyle but rather it has been imposed on me by fate. For the want of a better expression, the reasons for my lonely holidays are largely inexplicable. It can be said that most of the factors involved have spun beyond my control and I see no apparent remedy in sight. Ok, that's enough rambling for a night. It's almost 3am. and just the right time for bed. :)

Ps. Sorry guys if this post is kinda on the bombastic side but these words are needed to convey my thoughts precisely. I have no intention to confuse or stun you guys.

Hi guys, be prepared for another emo post here tonight. Love it or leave it man :).

The past months or so has been a foretaste of hell. Basically to be caught in a delicate social situation for months at a stretch where there is no satisfactory solution to be found, can be quite a misery to put it mildly. Furthermore, to stand and be judged daily for not adhering to an imagined standard of idealism is outrageous. While practicing such philosophies is fine (I honestly do not care about your beliefs or principles of life), imposing it on others by means of cynicism and judgmentalism exhibits an egoistical complex. Yes, I sense the subtle mockery and concealed smirks each time but I prefer to feign ignorance. I see the knowing half smiles and hear the masked sarcasm. I don't know exactly why I choose to endure this shit stoically, but I feel that there is no satisfactory solution in this problem, at least none that I can put into effect myself. I don't know how much longer will I endure this or if it will come to an end within the short term. Why must I suffer so in silence? Perhaps this is a penance for my past...

Many months have passed... yet the afterglow of notoriety has yet to fade. To have one's reputation preceding his presense is not an honour. Quite the contrary actually, it is a curse. To be the object of awe is to be subjected to jealousy. To gain respect is to earn hatred. What a forlorn and forsaken path to tread.

Yet, despite all that, I think I am where I should be. In asnwering a tough but simple question I was posed a few days ago, "Are you happy where you are?". In a moment, I reflected where I am standing in life. I have so much to balance out, between assignments/studying and lepakking, between true friendships and moral obligations, between college and family, etc... The list has no end. However, on this rare occasion I refused to rationalize an intellectual answer. Following the silent voice within, I gave an emphatic yes.