Status Quo

The idleness will be the death of me, but to be honest, it will be duly missed once it ceases its reign, and I enslave myself to a life of responsibilities and serving the people, all in the name of answering His Call.

At times I wonder what is it that I've got myself into; Abandoning my interests and what essentially made me, me…will it bode well in the end? Or rather - will I survive the journey itself? Or will I be torn asunder by the gravity of the job, the multiple facades of people, and these turbulent times? Will my sanity maintain its steadiness, or will it finally crack under pressure?

Through all these, I hope God is with me, though undeserving I may be. God Forbid.

I have been writing a lot, although truth be told, most of them still reside in my head rather than in any tangible form. I've been spamming my Tumblr like there's no tomorrow, and similarly, busy deleting spams that somehow made it into my mailbox. Out, damn'd spam[1]!

The truth still stands, strong as ever. Writing is what I do. Thus my thoughts continue to wonder, what am I to do?

The differences between Arts and Science, the two are like estranged brothers, as different as night and day. While Science revels in the unrevealing of mysteries and the unveiling of truths, the Arts seem to reign supreme in the unknown and the irrepressible. How many tragedies written in the past were driven by people unable to contain their rage and rabid desires any longer? How comedies could bring joy to an otherwise murky world?

The two coexist in my head, a jungle of unexplored territories, a garden of juvenile hope, a dungeon of human fallacies, a stretch of plane where imagination takes many forms in turn?

Not to say that I regret my education thus far. But perhaps the Arts has not been given enough recognition it truly deserves, which goes beyond the superficial looks and the temporary glitters and greedy glamour? Even now, as idleness accompany my days, as I seek to amuse myself with whatever shows the television offered me, oftentimes that I found myself frowning in rebuke and scoffing with scorn.

Perhaps the tragedy of the Arts is that it's all, "been there, done that". Every cliche imaginable has been recycled that the effect has been lost, replaced by disappointment. The all reaching media ensures that there is a continuous stock of things that would feed the public's hunger for the hedonistic. And so what was left, except looks?

The problem of paper thin plots and gaping plot-holes are covered up by actors and actresses that are only pretty faces but are unable to act to save their lives. Tone deaf singers without much practice and wide range of abilities only need to ensure on looks to get them by. There are also gimmicks and cheap publicity stunts  that they used to boost up their popularity.

We are easily satisfied with mediocrity, and we become thirsty for more.

It is this quest for beauty that the public unwittingly get trapped in. People are not beautiful enough, not thin enough - but what is there to say about one's attitude?

"You're perfect as you are", or "Never change", or "Just be yourself". Yup, I've seen a lot of them on Tumblr.

While I'm not against positive advices, I do caution their use in situations. Such advices mentioned above are definitely not for those in dire need of a change of attitude.

There is a stench of haughtiness of "I'm good enough", as in the case of "I do as I please". Whatever happened to the quest of becoming a better person each day? Isn't that what growing up is supposed to amount to?

What goes around comes around - some people call it karma, but it's just God's Decree.

I apologize if this post had somehow trod on someone's toes, but it needed to be said. I assure you that all the rumination that I've done over this post hasn't actually relieved my conscience.

Current Music: Sadame - X TV OST

[1] - Parodied from Shakespeare's original work. Here is the real thing - Macbeth Act 5, scene 1:

Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then
'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and
afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?

Ideation

"It's an uncharted territory," she whispered.

The remark took me by surprise. We have been shrouded in silence since we came here, and I was truthfully relieved that she just opened a topic. The quietness was starting to bore and bug me. Keen to figure out her thread of thoughts this time, I probed on. "What is?"

She shot me an exasperated look. Her hand hovered just next to her head, finally tapping her temple with a finger.

As usual, I was eager to argue. "Well, not exactly. Anatomically speaking, that is. There're enough things in the brain that neither you nor I can possibly cover everything before the Final Pro."

She sighed heavily. Maybe I've struck the wrong note this time. Or maybe my statement hit a little too close to home.

"The brain is merely the hard-drive, the external machinery. No, I'm referring to the thinking process, the operating system," she said, her tone strained.

Of course you are, I felt like retorting bitterly. It was her fault for being so vague in the first place.

"Just like dreams, yes? In a way, it's a relief." She paused as she rearranged her words in the recesses of her own mind. "It's like the brain is telling you that it's still working even though your body starts to demand its time-out once your bedtime arrives."

"Err, yes." Truthfully I wanted to tell her that I rarely remember my dreams at all, so it didn't make much of a difference to me. I probably don't dream at all, so--

"I suppose once we cease to dream, we cease to live as well."

She did it again. With that simple aphorism she almost made me feel like sinking into the ground. Was she accusing me of being lifeless? Like a zombie, maybe!?

Even if she did notice my cringing at my internal monologue, she had nothing to say about it. Good for you! Go on, think some more while I try get rid of this growing uneasiness so that I'll be just in time to resume our little chit-chat.

She broke the silence with a grunt. "Just because you can't remember your dreams, it doesn't mean that you don't dream at all."

Did she just read my mind? Did I just experience the phenomenon of 'thought broadcast' that we learnt in Psychiatry?

Maybe it was time for me to say something - before she gives a reply without my actually saying it and then totally freaking me out. "...Usually my brain is too tired for little details like dreams. It's already cluttered as it is. Besides, I wouldn't want to remember any nightmares. It might turn me into a paranoid person."

"Right."

Wait, why aren't you contradicting me? Are you even listening to what I was saying, or are you still deep in your thoughts that I'm now reduced to an insignificant bystander? Will this short story continue with only my monologues, my complaints about the intricacies of the human mind and human interaction while you sit there and become washed away by your own brainwaves?

"Maybe they're not significant enough for you to remember afterward."

What on earth are you saying now, woman? Did I miss anything you said while I was busy thinking to myself? Make yourself clear, or I'm seriously going to ignore you for the rest of this scene! Still unable to grasp her logic, I could only response in the most intelligent manner possible at the time, "Huh?"

"Something is stopping you. I don't know what it is, though." She looked at me for a moment, taking in my confusion. For a moment there I felt that I was being analysed.

I swear, she must be enjoying this, to see me squirm helplessly while she talked about things that I'd rather not think about too much. Some things are just beyond us! Speaking of which, are we still on the subject of dreams that we experience in sleep, or has she progressed to the dreams one has for one's future?

I seriously couldn't tell where she was going. What have I done to deserve this situation?

"So...?" I prompted carefully. I wondered if her analysis on me came up with anything, and if she would mind sharing. More properly this time. It was only fair!

"Well," she shrugged and stood up from the bench. She turned her head sideways to glance at me, "you mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." With that, she beamed mischievously and skipped off, leaving me staring at her disappearing form.

I hate it whenever she does that. It was bad enough that her ramblings were difficult to follow, now she has even abandoned me in the flesh!

And, seriously - did she just take a line straight out of the movie Inception? So much for originality.

---

Work of fiction (c) ad. Lucidus, 2011.

Current Music: Shining Star (TV Ver.) - 9nine 

P/s: "In this game, you always have to have hope. You always have to dream" ~ Robert Low

I'd like to think that this post has something to do with a seminar I have to present later, Sleep and Sleep Disorders.

...Alternatively, maybe it sprung from my alternating unexplained hypersomnia and untimely insomnia.

I Want to Believe

1. ...but there is an omnipresent black hole that sucks the living daylight from every sliver of light that flickers.

But the need to believe - this trust in God - wants to fight back. And so it struggles on, with whatever ounce of energy it has.

And, as always, my Ego self that is perpetually in the middle of a tug of war between the Superego and Id, will always swing to one side and then to the other. I'm getting dizzy from all the motion, sick of all the drama, and growing numb from all the uncertainty.

It's always the same darn thing over and over again, and really, when will this cycle end!? Haven't I learnt anything!?

2. ...It's pretty obvious that I'm trying to get in the mood for Psychiatry, is it not? Perhaps it's a means to drown the unpleasantness that I had to suffer through back then.

3. Bought a book that I've been searching for since roughly a week ago. The Sherlockian by Graham Moore. At this point in time I know I shouldn't be investing in more fictions, of all things, but lately it's getting hard to find joy in things that I used to have so much passion for. And so when the need to indulge comes, especially when it comes to those that rank high in my list of addictions, then there is simply no compromise.

Kind of like coffee too, come to think of it. There's the phase of need, then when it's not fulfilled the withdrawal symptoms come, and later on you'll find yourself drinking coffee just to maintain your physiological level at a basic functioning state. Otherwise the neurons get cranky, firing up in the areas that you least need activity in.

4. “The question is not whether we will die, but how we will live” ~ Joan Borysenko

...Lately I keep on getting killer questions, even _after_ the exams. Oh heck.

5. I was asked what my new year resolution would be. Then it struck me - with great horror! - how out of touch with time I've been lately, and that things are really coming at full speed, regardless whether I'm ready to play catch with it or am even prepared for a defense.
"What will be your 2011 resolution?"
'OMG it's really going to be next year soon! OMG!' "...to get skin hypertrophy." 'And it's not in the cancerous version, dear God...please, not that.'
"What?"
"...meaning to grow a thicker skin."

...Yeah. Maybe this numbness is a way of getting there. Perhaps it's not too impossible after all?

6. Why this? Because I can, and I need to lay off this blog for a bit. All the extra-lengthy posts gobbles up too much of my time, and it's probably easier opting for summaries and graphic representations instead.
Take note: Probably.
...Oh God.

Current Music: Fireworks - Katy Perry

Intermission #14

In which I realise that it's already December, which means that a lot of things are coming at me...soon. Gasp.

Source

Source

...Methinks I should just get meself a tumblr account if I'm just spamming this place with pictures. It's already too small for my ardent tirades and inexhaustible verbiage.

Baggage

She stares ahead of her, eyes bobbing from left to right then to left again, at the crowd milling about before her. Her bag lies nearby, but she makes no move to assert her claim over it.

"You should keep an eye on that, you know," I murmur. Hopefully it does not come out as too bossy for her tastes.

She is momentarily taken by surprise. She pulls it closer to her side; whether out of following my advice or out of suspicion as to what I could possibly be up to, it is difficult to tell.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" I ask.

"You think so?" she says, hesitant.

"Isn't it?" I repeat myself. "Here we are, in possibly one of the best sites to observe the general public as they are. Everyone has his or her luggage - some have more than the other - and they have a place to go. Except, perhaps..." I nod in one direction, where a young child stands, lost, glancing around her, looking as if she's going to burst into tears any moment now, "...those who are still uncertain of their path in life, still dependent on other people."

My companion looks relieved when the little girl rejoins her parents, and the trio disappear from view, joining the crowd.

"Where are you heading?" I ask conversationally.

She glances at her ticket. "I don't know for sure."

"No?"

She holds the item up for my benefit. Aside from certain details as the time and place to board, it is as good as empty.

"That doesn't look right," I remark, raising an eyebrow.

"It doesn't," she agrees monotonously.

After the pause, I hazard a question, "But you know where you want to go to, don't you?"

She scrunches her face, her forehead now wrinkling in cogitation. "Yes." She meets my eyes, her grip on the ticket tightening. "Very much so."

"Great. You know what to do, then."

She nods.

"And what it takes to get there."

"Quite so."

"There will be necessary sacrifices along the way. Naturally."

"Naturally," she echoes. She however uncaps her pen and begins jotting something down on her ticket. With that done, she pockets it away. She then unzips her bag, and begins taking out several things, one by one. Noticing my enquiring gaze, she explains simply, "There are things that we should just leave behind us, aren't there?"

"Yes. But they might come back to you, somehow. Some do that, you know. Kind of like...nightmares."

"They might, but for now, they're not needed." She pauses. "Or, rather, I don't need them. I know it for a fact. If they ever come back, I'll just rinse and repeat." When I get to my feet, she makes it her point to ask, "You're leaving already?"

"Yes."

"But you--" From the way she eyes my empty hands, it is enough a hint as to what she is getting at. "You already have everything you need?" she asks tentatively. And - if I may say so myself - doubtfully.

I manage a small smile. "Yes." Taking the first few steps away from her, I motion a wave. "I'll see you when you get there."

It takes her a couple of moments to reply, and I am already some distance from her. But from the determination in her voice as she yells out "It's a promise!", I probably have nothing much to worry about.

---

Work of fiction (c) ad. Lucidus, 2010.

Current Music: Everything is Alright - Motion City Soundtrack

Even When All Seems Lost...

Even when the nights seem darkest,
even when everything else fails,
even when doubt consumes all...

Image from here; Poster generated from Keepcalm-O-Matic

Current Music: Made for You - OneRepublic

This is, like, y'know, cool and stuff...

*cough* ...well, at least it is, by my standards, being a stickler for words and linguistics and the related. And I'm starting to be intrigued by this typography thing...ahh, the wonders of graphics and technology.




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Now playing: The Classic Crime - Sing
via FoxyTunes

P/s: ...I miss Miyavi so bad. *sigh*

I Can (Not) Advance

Title is based on that of the new Evangelion movie, Evangelion 2.0: You Can (Not) Advance.

Penalise me, if you must, for beginning this entry with an all too depressing note, but let it end there. It's a balance that I must have, the inevitable phase that I go through after a period of positive outlook in life. I was rebuked for taking on this blanket statement, and because I can be such a hard-headed ignoramus, I took my argument no further. Delusions I must not indulge myself in, and being lost in a tsunami of raging emotions is never an option. Life is too short for us to be morose, or so I was told, but we are also advocated to always stay true to ourselves.

Perhaps there will be those who will agree with me when I say that no other postings highlights the concept of God's provisions better than Obstetrics and Gynaecology. There's simply no telling what will happen, much less when. Or to whom. Or who will be there to seize it.

I'm in despair. Time is quickly running out, and my energy limited.

I want to believe (even though I can't) amidst the situation I am in. I want to look up at the open skies, but the mud I trudge on sinks me deep.

I don't want to lose hope in the shifaa' - the panacea - that God has given.

I just want to believe that there's something for everyone. And that in the end, it _does_ really matter.

"And He giveth you of all that ye ask for. But if ye count the favours of Allah, never will ye be able to number them. Verily, man is given up to injustice and ingratitude" (14:34) (Source).

Source

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Now playing: Hans Zimmer - Panic, Sheer Bloody Panic
via FoxyTunes

Where Between the Two Extremes?

Alternative title: When advertisements get me thinking - seriously.

I rarely watch television. There's a wider selection of watchable, readable materials available online and searching the WWW beats browsing the television schedule or waiting for your show to air.

Also, advertisements. Pop-ups are more annoying than television ads I suppose, but I pay more attention to the latter - which really isn't saying much though - and few of them are actually capable to force some sort of a thinking hat on my head. Take, for instance, a certain Mountain Dew ad.

Notice that tiny caption at the lower right corner? It took my third scrutiny to figure what it says. First time: I caught sight of the action onscreen and turned away. Second: the stunts sent me thinking, 'Wait, aren't they supposed to warn the public not to reproduce such dangerous acts?' Third: 'Oh, wait, they actually did...'
Fourth, after hearing my companion's remark that the advertisement portrayed the stunt in a light that could mislead the viewer that one could get away with only minor injuries, my thoughts then retorted that some people could be overestimating themselves in terms of their professional abilities. My other companion, on the other hand, said that those stunts were probably fabricated by means of graphic programs and such.

Imagine, for instance, if someone didn't notice the warning. Or, the size of the font was not strong enough to leave an impression that those death-defying acts are more of pure lunacy instead of one heroic display?

To some, the two might be one and the same. Not in this case, it isn't.

Compare the Mountain Dew ad to that of Ridsect. Usually the ad would begin with 'Attention, this is a mosquito insecticide advertisement' done in huge white fonts with a black background, then the scene would shift to someone being harassed by those noisy flying nuisance. Until now I don't see why the warning is necessary - there are mosquitoes, mosquitoes terrorising a household, mosquitoes getting doused by the spray administered by one who doesn't really need to be a sharpshooter, mosquitoes falling down, murdered in the name of protecting one's loved ones. Yup, pretty straightforward piece of message there, folks.

In life sometimes our attention is diverted elsewhere, to things that are more intriguing, fascinating and...profitable. For instance, the prospect of accumulating more money is more appealing to the general public than of donating a substantial amount to charity. Or, in simpler examples, movies that feature out-of-this-world CG animations or beautiful airheads who cannot act to save their lives to cover for shallow stories that have otherwise very little to sell. (I'm thinking of Avatar here...and those numerous shows/events that rely on scantily clad women - even men too, come to think of it - that gladly allow themselves to be degraded to mere objectification of sex...)

That's the sign that the End - be it the world's or our own wellbeing, our morality - is approaching, fast.

Back to the ads. What does it take to hold your attention? Would it be one that is small in comparison to the bigger (and more constant) picture? Or a message that is simple, clear enough but temporary?

I myself couldn't give a definite answer. I do appreciate subtlety and metaphors, but I know that the dangers of being swept away by those aesthetics are very much real in my case. And, as anyone could tell, the nature of my blog itself - imbued with double meanings, imageries and, at other times, overshadowed by obscurities - shows that I view writing as an art in which effort is a rule. For me, finishing much less looking for fictional novels can be a tedious task to bask in!

But those wake-up calls are needed too. It's like an alarm clock that rescues you from those nightmares that tease your imminent rise from bed.

In life's lessons, perhaps simplicity would drive the point home; even so our lack of memory may eventually make a detour to other if not similar mistakes. Art, meanwhile, celebrates the glorious marriage of stark simplicity and knotty intricacies. But in dealing with people - who themselves, for better or for worse, are a motley bunch with individual quirks and touchiness - there're no hard and fast rules.

...Ah, such is the world we live in. Otherwise we'd be long dead bored from uniformity and predictability, and offended by bluntness; or utterly confused by dubiety, put off by complexities, and hypertensive from all the stress of trying to make sense of things that twist our logic.


Current Music: Falling Down - Oasis

P/s: Not affiliated with the brands mentioned above. Merely used them to prove a point...

Scenic

New discovery: Photography isn't so bad. Recalling the sweet events of yesterday's main side-programme (the secondary side-programme involved stuffing ourselves with loads of keropok lekor, and I must say that the keropok lekor in Terengganu holds a special place relative to other keropok lekors in my heart), I realised that it was almost automatic that I whipped out my PDA - Hidenori-kun - out from the safe confinement my bag had provided him with, and started gathering pieces of the wonderfully photogenic scenes around me with clicks of the button.

I mean, there were other cameras to capture people amidst the panoramic view, but I wanted the _feel_ of the place - majestic, enveloping the people within, but at the same time, warm and welcoming. The calming effect of various shades of lush green amidst the spectrum of sky blue backdrop, with tints of shadows where the lights hover tentatively with the occasional breath of wind, and solid, brown wood of the trees and woodwork.


I've always adored waterfalls, perhaps attributed to how the water appears to be lively and makes a bold statement in its own wordless way, but this is classic. It is a physical embodiment of paradox - in which, in spite of the harsh sound of the collision as the falling water joins its other self, there remains lingering traces of calmness around it.







Would it be too far off to say it's a chance to be one with nature, to enjoy her in her simple yet exquisite beauty, after ages of being surrounded in metal and steel, imprisoned in the concrete jungle and pillars of iron poles?

...It gave a soothing effect after a momentary period of discontent from being confronted with the less than fortunate - a fact that life in this world can be indescribably rough.

Yes, it was so worth it to come out into the open air, despite the short episode of drizzle and fears of falling ill from deliberate exposure to it upon our arrival.

Still, my only regret was to have accidentally left my camera Renji-kun behind, despite several times reminding myself to bring him along.

Other pictures - inclusive of us, the people! - can be found in Facebook (where else?) in relevant albums.

Current Music: milky way - P'UNK~en~Ciel

Of Art, Its Appreciation & Composition

"What strikes me is the fact that in our society, art has become something which is only related to objects, and not to individuals, or to life" ~ Michel Foucault

I remember the time when the Government suddenly decided to implement an idea that is not _half_ as drastic as teaching Science & Maths in English - introducing a literature component in both of the main languages taught in my school. I must have been 14 or 15 at the time, because I did not learn about this revolutionary topic until I was 16, and because said topic was absent in my syllabus prior to that.

I had no complaints about learning literature. I can appreciate some form of art, although what I enjoy may be unacceptable to others (examples include my choice of anime and songs). To each his own, people say. Some artworks are called as such because of their abstract nature, some long-winded, which invites several interpretation and thus, several angles of aesthetics.

What I like about art is that there is freedom, where you don't have to recreate it as it is.

Whether the audience will accept it or not is another matter. What's important is that you are able to produce a result that you yourself are proud of, one that you can find a sense of achievement and joy in. What makes this concept an oxymoron is when I adamantly admit to disliking the subjects of art, essay and literature during my schooling days because they took away the liberty of artistic impulse.

Some may find it odd - I, one who would rather avoid conflicts, am actually a silent rebel who despises authority and limitations. Ha-ha.

...Is that the source of my problems which gives me a truckload of stress that should last me a lifetime?

The way I see it, the internal conflict of what-self-wants-against-what-authority-dictates can only be resolved by finding a common ground, the same aim. Unfortunately this doesn't put a total end to the said conflict, because to reach the same destination, there are at times, several means of doing it.

Still, I remember frowning upon seeing a different interpretation of a literature study we did compared to my own take on the issue. I let it go, to the extent that I forgot what _was_ the issue in the first place.

More beyond this field of vision »

Tsuzuku

"Just remember - when you think all is lost, the future remains" - Dr. Robert H. Goddard

The past doesn't always reflect the future. My glory days are over - for now, at least.

Like I said before, I'm still lost. At certain times, it feels like I can't go on any longer.

So please, I do hope that they won't make it harder than it already is. I'm a different person now, no thanks to this new environment I'm stranded in.

Do I have the will to carry on? I doubt it.

If only...

Outbreak

To those virus authors (not forgetting any malicious code authors, be it trojans, spywares, etc), I wish them a miserable life, full of pain and sufferings.

It is unforgivable, making innocent people wince in unease.

Now that Avicenna is in the house...hopefully he'll be a more formidable opponent against those villains

Poor Nao.