Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Heaven must be full of em

Before I left I joke to a friend I'm off to a land of good food, I'll be back to show you my newly acquired fat. It turns out that I most probably WILL show her my newly acquired fat. Because the food was good. The kind that'll make you swallow your tongue if you're not careful. Heaven must be full of em.

Bleeding hell, we even had a durian feast. And for once I knew what it felt like to be a full blown medanese. For a start they knew the taste of a proper durian. What tasted alright to me, to my aunt it was BAD and shouldn't be eaten. Let me recall the exact phrase, she said it tastes like sweet potato. Holly cow. Do you see the disparity in taste? so I didn't trust my taste since then.

When she asked me "how does it taste like, is it good?" on another occasion I decided to go with the safe wo kan bu chu lai (directly translated: I cannot see; well actually it just meant I cannot tell) and then she went " bu shi kan bu chu lai, shi chi bu chu lai". Because, she said that obviously we cannot see to tell, we've got to eat it first.

Man. We have a stupid tongue. Everything just tastes good. Good good or sweet potato good. 'S all good. Damn.

Yesh anyway I have plenty to tell but too weak a finger to type it now so it'll have to wait.


Grinning Goat at 1/31/2007 07:38:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Saturday, January 27, 2007

How could that be

When I was checking in there was this caucasian woman beside me with a whole load of stuff in trolleys (that's trolleys, not trolley mind you) and running kids who went amok (they actually ran on top of the conveyor belt to the embarrassment of the mother)

I overheard this guy at the counter telling her that she could go to Thailand but not Indonesia. I miss the why part but all in all I'm baffled really. How could anyone enter Thailand but not Indonesia? I mean Indonesia isn't exactly the safest place in the world, is it?

Travelling alone breeds boredom (when we haven't reached the place of destination of course) and boredom breeds kaypohness and a wandering mind. Kaypohness and wandering mind in turn breeds very active scanning eyes and ears.

So it's only natural that I overheard this old indian woman telling these two guys that they should think about their future and that there's no future working in the airport so they should get the hell out before they get stuck the way she did ten years ago. I could see that the two guys were nodding their heads for the sake of nodding their heads. Which makes me think: what kind of an aunt would I be?

Would I be the aunt who is patient and give advice even though it falls on deaf ears?
or would I be the cool aunt who wouldn't give a shite about where the youngsters want to work and talk about movies instead?

I think I'd rather be the cool aunt. It sucks to know these youngsters would end up working in a place with no future. But personally, it sucks more to give advice that falls on deaf ears. So let them work in a place with no future if it suits them and talk about why Britney Spears marry that guy what'shisname -the one who recently just got beaten up by John Cena in WWE.

Right I have a flight to catch. See ya wednesday.


Grinning Goat at 1/27/2007 06:18:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


Obviously

An interview and a flight. I think that's too much excitement in one day. They shouldn't go together. That's like having a surgery and a birthday party on the same day. Let me summarize my interview:

Obviously I should know about recent medical development
But obviously should is not the same as do
And obviously the next logical step is to bullshit my way out
But obviously there's no bullshitting my way out of this one in the same way there's no bullshitting a recipe for tortilla and gorditas if you don't know what they are
Obviously asking "in which field in particular" is wrong because
obviously it lands me in a deeper shit than the shit I already am in.
Obviously mumbling something about a disease whose name I can't remember is stupid because
Obviously my bullshit is written all over their eyes
So obviously I'm a terrible terrible liar and that's good isn't it? Because doctors aren't supposed to be good liars except that
Obviously doctors aren't supposed to be liars at all
Obviously I don't know about their teaching system. But that's okay isn't it because who in their right mind carries around information like a university's teaching system in their head?
Obviously I was only expressing myself as a normal human being who doesn't carry such information around. An honest one at that.
Obviously though the person before me who spend a good 20 minutes inside has a lot to say about recent medical development
So obviously I'm sore
And obviously you can see that recent medical development is my sore point

Alright I shall re-write that experience in a different spirit.

You know how people are always looking at others with a certain eye? Like a shoe shop owner would look at a person and think oh she's that size 7 girl or oh he's that guy who wears girls' shoes. And a dentist who look at a person and think oh he's that one with a chipped canine, a cavity in his molar and a bad breath. For me I'm looking through a writer's eye I think so it's always about how a person should sound like in a book. And it would be nothing about what they wear because for a start I wouldn't know the difference between retro and vintage. So I'm worried that while I'm worrying about sizing them up as characters in a book, they would be looking at me with an interviewer's eyes -which they obviously did.

So in my writer's eye, I think that I would look, to an interviewer's eye as "the idiot who tried to bullshit her way out and failing terribly".

And you know sometimes when you know that you've said something brilliant then the brilliant phrase would get stuck in your head and gets repeated over and over? Well when I left that room and when I was waiting for the bus and when I was on the bus and even now, all I get is silence in my head.

That says a lot.

Oh and have I told you my mate is flying to France for a good half a year? I'm worried because I haven't heard from her.

And that's too much excitement in one day. Obviously.


Grinning Goat at 1/27/2007 11:55:00 AM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Blip

R: Eh biwi you know how to knit?
Biwi: Are you asking so if I say yes you can gawk at me? Or are you making me gawk because you wanna learn? Huahaha OF COURSE NOT!
R: I'm afraid I'm making you gawk. Why, it's too grandmotherly you think?
Biwi: OF COURSE! Aww man knitting?? Are you preparing for old age in advance?
R: Nah they have CPF for that. Come biwi learn with me, grandmotherliness is a good trait to pass around
Biwi: Aww man I don't wanna be no granny

Biwi always made me laugh. For some reason.


Grinning Goat at 1/23/2007 11:01:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


The fortune teller

Some things you just have to decide for youself.

But some decisions you need reassurance and when it's not forthcoming you'd start to see the point of flipping coins.

Well not exactly, but you'd be glad when circumstances force you one way because then you don't even have to bother about choosing. And when you don't choose you don't regret because it's not within your power to control it anyway.

It's been decided by higher powers. Accept.

And it's a good thing too. Accepting is my forte, especially gifts.


Grinning Goat at 1/23/2007 12:20:00 AM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Sunday, January 21, 2007

The sin of inherence

Prejudice divides the mind such that one side is a bright clear orange (I love orange) and the other black. A murky ground you need to tread on but refuse to step on because the other side looks too good. Or you think it looks too good.

But really, who are we to say if it's good or not if we're never on the other side to begin with.

If you talk about stuborness, the human mind is harder than rocks. And prejudice is embedded deeper than a ridge. I know not ways to change that because I believe at some point in life I am guilty of one as well. And the guilty cannot be the judge. I dwell in rhetorics and metaphores because I can offer no words of advice. Not for lack of trying but I guess from lack of wisdom. What I can do though, is write.

It must be hard to be a saint on duty on judgement day because if prejudism is inherent, how do you measure the sin? where would the balance tip? Is it even a sin at all?

Nature says only a few words:
High wind does not last long,
Nor does heavy rain.
If nature's words do not last
Why should those of man?


The hurting words will pass. It may leave a scar but the pain would subside if not be gone.


Grinning Goat at 1/21/2007 06:47:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


Bullshit for bullshit

R: I felt bad asking my uncle everytime something happens to my comp
KB: something happens to your comp very often then?
R: erhh quite
KB: girls don't know how to take care of PC
R: yeah see that's the reason girls marry

Actually he'd be surprised at the number of metro guys who know nothing about PC and everything about fashion doing lifescience.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry.


Grinning Goat at 1/21/2007 05:30:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


the shit problem

All the bad jobs are taken. Laundry. Dishes. Mopping and sweeping.
That left me with grocery shopping. Buy lunch. And dinner.

I was queuing in a supermarket. And this aunt in front, she bought some aunt stuff (it's bread and things I'm not sure exactly what but it looks like she's going to make something)and I noticed that she had varicose. Lots of them in her legs. Both legs. It just made me think that you know, everybody's a ticking time bomb. That death is a matter of time. It's certain, a definite end we could look forward to (okay that comes out wrong). But my point is while life is uncertain, death is. Probably the only thing in life that's certain. And in the course of our lives, we're abusing our own biological containers (and we can't help it) in a way that contributes to our death eventually. Even chemotherapy for cancer is an abuse to try to reset the timer a coupla minutes back. And I'm sure that aunt doesn't want to have varicose.

It always shocks me when I see the amount of stuff I buy compared to those people queuing. Look at this uncle, he only bought oils. And this aunt, she only bought something that looked like canned tunna. ANd look at me, okay so I don't grocery shop everyday but sometimes I think that my siblings and I, we're a bunch of walking intestines.

Biwi took a picture of my grocery-ladden bike the other day. And the way I look at it there's no way I could get out of it looking good. This is ross' bike. That's bad. This is an auntie's bike. That's worse. This is auntie ross' bike. Biwi is going to suffer from some serious injuries.

So after such uneventfull journey come the eventfull part. In the form of dog shite. No kidding. Obviously with the kind of eyes I'm born with I didn't realise it until I was stuck in the elevator and the smell permeated every fiber of my being. So I asked my brother when I reached home, what smells? Is it me? My bike? or my bike and me?

Turns out to be the bike. And I know that this may sound outrageously harsh of me but dog owners who don't clean up their dog poo deserve to die. Because the stench, it's enough to knock somebody out. I was hoping that I could just leave the bike lying around and hope that rain would take care of things. But of course it won't and with my luck, either it wouldn't rain or the rain wouldn't wash off the shite. You know, when bad things happen to you and you say SHITE, I know now with a degree of certainty I never had before, how APT the word is. That SHITE could convey all your loathing. It's the one word that says it all.

Shit happens. Oh yea, it does all right. Bloody dog owners.

So I brought my bike down to the basement for some cleaning up. There's this philippino (I was about to say maid but I am not about to get judgmental over someone who has helped me pass my shit crisis. Besides, people have said before I have a phillipino accent so I may be a phillipino in my previous life for all I know)cleaning her car who took sympathy of me and my brother and she helped spray water into our bike and helped us find a stick to scrape off the crap.

A filthy filthy undertaking.


Grinning Goat at 1/21/2007 04:08:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Saturday, January 20, 2007

Reduced to a child

I don't know why it shocked me or why I should even be surprised at all. I mean obviously people grow up.

I guess they just don't grow up the way I imagine them to be, not that I have much imagination to begin with. More of a lack of anticipation I suppose.
But they do grow up. My friends. In ways better than I had imagined. Turned into better people than I could've expected. Or even turned into better people than I could imagine myself to be.

It's like they've crossed this ocean I haven't crossed. And I'm red with envy. Not because it's a good ocean to cross (in fact it's filthy, oil-polluted and toxic). But because it's good to finally be on the other side.


Grinning Goat at 1/20/2007 04:14:00 AM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


It's just a different set of imagination

There's something random about the course of a conversation, don't you think?

Let's say you can say either A or B. Saying A would lead to either question A1, A2 or A3 from your chat partner and saying B would lead to either question B1, B2 or B3.

By saying A you'd automatically exclude B and let's say you get response A2 which is bad for you. This is a little like a point of time in life where you start wondering about what could've and should've been. You would at this time wonder if you'd still get the same response (A2) if you'd said B instead of A.

But this is stupid obviously because if you'd had said B, you'd get either B1, B2 or B3 as a response and definitely not A2. But obviously you wouldn't know that because you didn't say B in the first place.

And if this is just one part of the conversation, it follows that a conversation of an average length would include a lot more possibilities. It'd be a function of a function of a function and it goes on for as long as the conversation goes.
And I guess questioning the what-ifs every step of the way would be enough to drive anyone crazy.

That was the mathematical point of view. I guess from the more philosophical point of view you could look at it this way:

You are what you are now because of what happened to you along the way and you can't wish for things to turn out a different way than the way it had happened (supposedly so that you can become a happier person) because it's what had happened that made you who you are. If what had happened hadn't happened, who would you be? You wouldn't even be wishing for things to be different, would you? Because you wouldn't know.

So I think wishing for things to be different is the price we have to pay for knowing. Or is this simply a lack of self-contentedness?


Grinning Goat at 1/20/2007 01:24:00 AM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Psychobabble

Attending his class is painful enough (and damn early enough too). So I sat beside my translator. Who would, without fail censor the nonsensical bit and translate his half-baked psychobabble into proper english fit for consumption comprehension.

They should invent more people like her. Seriously, how do you translate a psychobabble? I think you need some sort of an impant chip in your head to be able to do that.


Grinning Goat at 1/17/2007 04:38:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Dead centre

It's those things that I treated with complete and utter disregard that always come back to haunt me.

And the advice. It wasn't the first time I heard of it. And obviously the first time I heard of it wasn't the last. Which proves how thick my skull is. It took too long for the dumb child to learn.

It stings. And it stings because it hits home. And home is something I've always known all along but refused to acknowledge. I needed someone to spell it out for me word by word.

The advice was exactly what my mother said. It helps to have someone translates this maternal jargon to something else.

This defiance. I don't know if it's from unwillingness or inability. Or maybe it's a little of both. It always is a little bit of both isn't it? You're unwilling because you're unable to. And you're unable to because you're unwilling.

I've been turning on the wrong filter. So all the junks went in and I leave the good stuff out.

That's probably true what they say isn't it? The best advice is the hardest to take.
I was left speechless after.

I don't know if this entry turns out the way I intended it to sound. It isn't supposed to be caustic. It certainly is not supposed to be sarcastic. It meant no malice. It's just that well... thank you, I guess. I needed that.

And yes, I have to go a long way round just to say that. Because

THANK YOU

are big words, no? Almost as big as SORRY but bigger. So you see the kind of courage I needed.


Grinning Goat at 1/16/2007 02:42:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


Little uns

On the way home I sat opposite this kid. He's but a wee lad. Or lass. Err well actually, I can't quite tell. He hasn't lost his baby fat yet so he's round all over but he's a fine looking lad. And when someone is that fine looking you don't have to really bother about the sex because you don't want to spoil the image by guessing the wrong sex. And rather than using it for this sexless entity, I'd call him a "he". Just to clarify that I didn't do that to satisfy my kinky urge to be sexist.

Anyway, he munched all the way from orchard to serangoon. I couldn't quite remember when he boarded the bus. Before I know it he's playing with my pants' button (then looked guiltily at his mother and grinned and when the reprimand didn't come in fast, he started picking on my button again - oh this is NOT the button that held my pants up it's just some accessory shite they put for no particular reason other than following the misguided direction of some fashion advisor somewhere across the sea) Ok what I noticed, beside my pants' button becoming loose is his menu.

He got a garlic bread. Then something that looked like either a chocolate bar or a sausage. Then I think some prawn crackers, bread and something solid that smells most definitely like milk. I'm hungry.

Then he tried to tell his mother something in his baby language with the intensity of a person bent on moving the mountain. Like a constipated person actually, come to think of it. And when it's that intense, you don't even have to understand the content to know that it's serious stuff he was discussing.

Anyway all in all I could see the point of not having a kid now.
It takes too much energy.


Grinning Goat at 1/16/2007 12:44:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Saturday, January 13, 2007

The evil side

It was about a question. About asking the right people. Those who aren't intricately related with your situation and thus do not have to act responsibly the way you do. They'd tell you to do it. I guess sometimes it isn't even about whether it's right or wrong (or well, it ALWAYS IS about whether it's right or wrong) but sometimes I think people are just too tired to feel guilty.

You just need to hear people tell you to do the things you know you can't do.

And I don't think that's a way to alleviate guilt at all. I think it's a need. A need to not always be righteous all the time. An acknowledgement that it's ok to be selfish at times.

It's a little like asking your dentist if you could have a mars bar every now and then, and having him said yes. The dentist's answer was important not because you could one day point your finger at him when you've got a tooth decay and ask for a discount. It was important because somebody tells you that self-indulgence is ok at times.

And really, what's a little indulgence? To keep your sanity, it's a harmless thing surely?

Besides if you've still got an ounce of moral fibre in you, it'll be in your conscience. And that itself is goodness in badness.


Grinning Goat at 1/13/2007 03:08:00 AM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Two way traffic

When you talk to someone and you don't understand each other then you'd probably mutter to yourself, he's not very bright, is he?

And that's okay because he'd probably be muttering the same thing anyway.

A world full of dim people, do you think that's how the world works?


Grinning Goat at 1/10/2007 04:25:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Drift along

I saw an old friend today on the way to lecture (hmm this is all too melodramatic and I see that it's not going to work here because even though it involves some drama, my friend's face would always look the way she is - and I don't mean she suddenly undergoes plastic surgery either- it was more like rain or shine -and I think it is mostly rain now- she would look shirleen-like and how am I suppose to explain what a shirleen-like look is like right, except for the fact that she hardly looks pissed off in the face of trying circumstances, which is trying in itself in my opinion or maybe it has something to do with inborn facial features; God knows)

The fact to be celebrated was: she happens to take this module I'm taking so it'd be great because while four makes a quartet, five makes a party
The fact that was not to be celebrated was: she is taking this module again because the admin guys were too stuck up in their ways and wouldn't hear such things as "concession" and "special privileges for sick students"

Anyway there are three types of people in this world, aren't there?

1) Those people who believe that education isn't all about sticking students in classes they don't want to attend (and I don't mean for reasons like being too lazy-arsed to make their way to the LT because it involved a lot of climbing. Those were bollocks obviously) and that education is about learning what you want to learn (although not necessarily in the manner you want it learnt -> think about it: microbiology in the form of discovery channel-style documentaries and video games and treasure hunts and tabloids is wishful thinking)

2) Those people who believe that education, really is about getting an accreditation. It doesn't matter what you learn, it's that piece of paper you get at the end of it that's important. Grades aren't even important because people only see the paper, not what's on it.

3) Those people who believe what type 1) people believe but do not have a backbone sturdy enough to withstand the consequences of that belief, namely: uncompromising admin guys, rules so strict it chokes you and breaks your collar bone and basically galling confrontation that induces a nose-bleed.

See, shirleen she was type 1). And as a type 3) person I could only stood there in admiration. Because if I were in her position, would I tell the admin people to piss off? No, I'd suck it up, attend class and tell everybody else but the admin people to piss off. So really, in terms of damage she'd only be making a hole in the paper while I would be soaking the paper wet, destroying the whole thing. ANd the issue wasn't all about damage control either, it was about who deserves to get what and why.

And it's people like that who find themselves drifting along in life. They want to move forward and they do move forward but it's not exactly in a straight line. It's squiggly. Because they get pushed right and left and they don't care. Or maybe they care but they don't want a nose-bleed, metaphorically speaking.

Anyway the point is, it was ridiculous not to make concession for sick people. They wouldn't allow her to take the exam and now that she has to repeat a module (which is pushing someone's patience as it is and some people -I being a prime example- haven't got much to spare) they won't let her take what she wants or make concessions for the clashing exam dates. And to think that the exams date clash because of that module she has to repeat because they won't make concession to sick students in the first place.

I think I should watch out for her this semester. She has had too many tiny mishaps that blow up into major catastrophe.


Grinning Goat at 1/09/2007 03:02:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Saturday, January 06, 2007

Bidding is a b!tch

Bambamz: I tell you, bidding is such a bitch
R: very much it is, yessss
Bambamz: its an academic version of the gap between the rich n poor

I thought that was nicely put.


Grinning Goat at 1/06/2007 02:55:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Friday, January 05, 2007

A long way down

You must have thought I said this because his was the last book I read. I can understand why, really because even I can see the point of having the opposition in a debate having the last word. The last word stays longer in your mind, well maybe not longer (because there's always grouchiness and people remember irritating things longer the way our brains are built) but certainly fresher and the oppositions are usually arguing the more difficult points aren't they? I used to have to argue on the ethicality of sending parents to the old folks home which makes it bleedingly obvious I was going to lose because as my teacher said, how the hell are you supposed to convince people of something that's against something they have spent a lifetime believing? without the hell of course.

We had an argument right after the debate with the organiser, saying how debate topics shouldn't be about moralities and values because they're bound to be lopsided. A strongheaded woman my teacher was. But I have to agree. With morality there's only one way to go. Killing someone is never a moral thing to do and it can't even be half-moral whatever the mitigating circumstances are if you see what I mean.

But well what I want to say is that Nick Hornby is such a fine writer. The characters he writes are as dysfunctional as ones invented by Bateman but Hornby has depth that Bateman doesn't.

In "A long way down", he wrote about 4 suicidal people who bumped into each other on the rooftop of a popular suicide spot (trust him to come up with such concept as popular suicide spot). The whole book was philosophical in the way philosophy never was to me when I took that philosophy class, which I dropped eventually when it occured to me (not exactly in a moment of sparkling clarity) that coffee was the way to go and that philosophy was hardly my cup of tea.

Anyway, Martin -one of the characters- thought that the cause of his problems (being jailed for having intercourse with a fifteen year old, fired and divorced by his wife) is located in his head if his head is where his personality is located.

(ooohh this reminds me of this story in Doraemon where Nobita wants to switch head with Shizuka so he'd be smarter and can do his homework and they realised, belatedly that switching heads equals switching the person so I guess personality must really be located in the head although I think I don't even need to argue that point using what happens in Doraemon because it's a pretty straightforward deduction)

And Martin was thinking "the only tool he had at his disposal to correct the disastrous course of his life seemed to be taking the very same head that caused him to fuck up in the first place" and so, "what chance did he have?" because " asking the head he has now to explain its own thinking is as pointless as dialing your own telephone number on your own telephone: Either way, you get an engaged signal. Or your own answer message, if you have that kind of phone system"

I would love to write more about the book but that would give the game away wouldn't it? ANd all that plagiarism business to think about too.

Reading his book just makes me want to write. Makes me miss writing so much, which is silly in its own way because can you actually miss something you can do almost anytime? I guess what I'm saying is I miss having that seemingly endless train of thoughts in the shape of nicely formed words in my head which makes them convenient to pen down. It's like buying a cup noodle with the ingredients all thrown in for you and all you need is add hot water and how hard is boiling a water exactly?

ANyway school starts on monday and I'm still in this holiday mood. I think though that I should grow out of this denial phase soon because the signs have started to show. It's like setting your alarm clock at 12 pm and for some reason you're awoken at 9 in the morning and you try to get back to sleep because you don't want to lose precious sleeping time but it's precisely because you worry about losing precious sleeping time that you can't get back to sleep.


Grinning Goat at 1/05/2007 12:37:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Thursday, January 04, 2007

A coupla years too late

It seems all the good stuff come right after I graduated/was about to graduate. For a start the leaf school abolished the preposterous, entirely unreasonable and absurd rule of no pony tail right after I graduated.

And now it seems like TJC has a better PE T-shirt (actually they should leave the PE t-shirt alone and do something about the house t-shirt), a cooler orientation (mass dance in suntec which sure as hell beats one in a cramped and crowded, non-airconditioned -oh the air-condition was added right before I graduate thankfully or not so thankfully depending on your point of view- college hall) and a hi-tech attendance taking system (although I am not too bothered about this because to tell you the truth, the less advance it is, the better)

I guess a better PE t-shirt comes at quite a high price. Project work and a weird curriculum. Come to think of it I'm better of being the people of my era because they don't even change the house t-shirt. Besides, an alma mater is as much the building, the staff and the ridiculous rules as it is the people in it and for me those people have left so it won't be the same either way. It shouldn't be anyway because, gosh don't you people want to graduate at some point?

So how does she look?
My sister, she looks happy enough.


Grinning Goat at 1/04/2007 02:29:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Our musical awareness

Biwi and I agreed we can't listen to 98.7 anymore. And she said even Power 98 is too advance. We're at the Class 95 stage. And soon we'll listen to GOLD 90.3

Progressive degeneration of musical awareness.

My parents listen to the Carpenters and Louis Armstrong, can you blame them?


Grinning Goat at 1/03/2007 01:02:00 PM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}


Many

"Think about food on a full stomach and you find you don't care
about taste"

Some people spend their whole life figuring out zuo ren de dao li - a way of life. How to be a person. Not even to be a good person, just to be a person.
Do you think of life as a series of bridges or one long road?
There was this saying, think of it as a series of bridges so when one falls, you can square your shoulder, bit your lips and say we'll manage because it's only the bridge and not the road.


"When you are but slightly involved in the world, the effect the
world has on you is also slight. When you are deeply enmeshed in
affairs, you machinations also deepen. So for enlightened people
simplicity is better than refinement, and freedom is better than
punctiliousness
."
Or you can say that things look big to you now because you're living the moment and that when you're past it, it'll start to look smaller and smaller. And I guess you may even one day reach a point when you look back to think, gosh they all don't really matter in the cosmic scale. These things that bother you in life.

" In matters of desire, don't get hastily involved because of
easy availability; once you get involved, you will sink in deeply.
In matters of principle, don't back off for fear of difficulty;
once you back down, you will lose your ground entirely"

A pity they don't say anything about what should be done if you have lost your ground entirely.

Taoism shouldn't be regarded as religion. If it is, it might as well. I get tired of being accused as atheist. All in all I couldn't put it better than how this guy put it:

"They have a sparkling sanity and at times seem almost funny in their humble
and common sense veracity. I don't like the way the Tao Te Ching
is presented as a sacred text. That's because I don't like it
when any text is presented as a sacred text. If someone hands you
a "sacred text," treat it roughly. The truth can take it. Take a
pen and scribble disagreeable notes next to passages that don't
jive with your inner truth sense. Take a highlighter to any
passages that do ring true, then copy them over in your
handwriting in your own journal or notebook."

"Much of the violence, gross and subtle, throughout our
descent into history has been at the hands of persons possessed of
and by a sacred text."

"Once a text is
considered superior to the felt experience of individual truth
sense it ceases to be a text and becomes an iron lid on human
consciousness."

" Why should young men sit
in libraries reading Cicero with awe, when Cicero was just a young
man in a library when he wrote what they are reading? I like what
Huanchu has to say because he made me reach for my highlighter
often"

My friend's father said he told my friend things because he didn't want her to have to go through that stage; a stage where you're confused and tumble along trying to find not the best religion but one that is suitable. A teaching that sits well with you because it rings true.

But maybe, we all need to go through that stage. The same way a butterfly needs to break free from the coccoon by itself or it won't be able to fly.

Sometimes I think it's a little late that I've realised some things only now. But I guess Qutu is right. If it's any earlier it'd be such a childhood spoiler.

A child who sees and knows too much no longer have the eyes of a child. And that would be a pity because I think the world is most beautiful when looked through that eyes.

Hmm maybe they're right. Maybe the road to salvation is many.


Grinning Goat at 1/03/2007 02:31:00 AM pontificated

|

{buzzz out}



"Stupid is as stupid does"
Forrest Gump

Archieves for the-nothing to dos


March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 March 2011 October 2011 November 2011 December 2011 January 2012

SNEAK PEEK


eXTReMe Tracker
People to drop by

Fr057m0urn3
Something I used to read
Wedy

Reads

Maddox for cynics
Photobucket what was around even before blogger allows picture update
Stickdeathremnants of my childhood

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com