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Tuesday, July 27, 2010
'Been wondering how Man has been gradually more deluded by the things they themselves had created. The kind of value they can tag unto something as simple as a piece of dollar bill...something that originally came from nature, now cycled through the world in a fracas of political whirlwinds - it's just hard to think of something so innocent, so blatantly pure, being the rotten root that led to the decay of morals.
Value brings judgment, brings weightage, and provokes the innate nature of Man to start measuring the worth of things. But once things are measured, and subsequently labelled, they are no longer equal. They have a value. This value can raise them millions of levels above their original, or lower them down to unseen depths. Does value equal to worth? I doubt so. Value is the physical cost of things, the unit of judgment civilization has created, but worth...worth is the true substance and essence of things in their purest. Worth is not to be casually tinkered with by the physical aspects of evaluation.
Perhaps someday Man as a whole will open his eyes and see for the first time the true world around them, that everything in this world, when stripped of their physical burdens of appearance, are common souls and energies that make up our universal web. We are in unison, distinct beings but in unison; diversity in equality, and vice versa.
Not everything has to be named to have worth. The name does not give you worth. Names do not give anything worth. They only give you acknowledgement of your worth, a form of recognition made easy by the physical facet of identification. But we cannot forget the other aspects that form the identity of things. We need to learn how to recognise things not by their labels, their value, but their worth.
It will just be like throwing away the words "I", "You", "He", "She", "It, "They" or "We" and looking at the barren form of things unadorned with such labels. They will be so very different...so much more real, so much closer. Only by discarding the physical facade and looking beyond these masks we cover them with, can we finally perceive the true substance that make up what things are.***~~~*Played with the winds at 10.41pm*~~~
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
For the first time, I received direct acknowledgement from my school art teacher.
It felt so nice. The commendation itself was so simple; plain, quick, soft, fleeting...just an effortless "I'm putting this up, it is very well done" as she walks away to store away the pieces - but wow! It made me feel so much better, like something's been lifted off me in a whoosh. Seems like I've been so repressed by my own faltering self-confidence (or lack thereof) that something like this could cheer me up so much.
Serious, this really made my day. I felt like a primary school kid...face flushed with happiness and childish pride (well, on the inside =__=) as an adult expresses his appreciation of something you did, be it a pat on the head, or quick words, or just a smile of recognition. It's really wondrous how a praise can have this much effect. I dunno, I guess it's cuz I've been waiting so long by myself to be recognised that this came as a considerable surprise. It almost feels like the trapdoor above being opened and a beam of light drifting into the darkness. The hope...the revivement...the re-ignition...
It gave me a confidence boost, one that I had really been in need of lately. Thank you so much. The timing was impeccable - thankfully. :)
Though on a darker note things happened in SAP today that weren't of joyous nature. Well, not exactly "things". But I do suppose HP coming into class, dumping her bag and slumping on the table snifling and sobbing IS definitely something out of the ordinary. I mean, she has always given me the impression that she's a strong girl, the kind of tough basketballer who is lively, sarcastic, cracks cynical jokes and just downright entertaining albeit in a sardonic and dark-humour-ish way. To see her crying is really...quite scary.
She wouldnt' tell any of us what happened. I really felt a twinge within when I saw her, but I really didn't know how to help! I tried talking to her, but she just shook her head and on second thoughts I figured it was better to let her have her space and quiet for awhile. It's frustrating, this kind of thing. I couldn't focus on my art for a long time cuz it just felt WRONG to be doing your own stuff nonchalantly when someone is f*ing depressed a little ways near you. That and the fact that you know you can't do anything about it.
And the way most of the other SAP ppl acted...it really unnerved me. They just totally ignored her and left her sniffling on the table! Someone even said "Who cares?" I mean, wtf is this?? Shouldn't you at least show some bit of concern? Is that really the way you treat your friends - laugh at their ingenius jokes when days are sunny and then turn the cold shoulder when she's down? I dunno if there are any underlying meanings and factors behind this, but this act of utter nonchalance just seriously frightened me.
Oh well...at least E offered a pack of tissue and talked a bit, and C folded a little gift thing for HP. That's good enough for now I suppose.
Sigh...the complications of man and this world...it's bound to come down to this. Perfect beings losing their perfection via knowledge - the acquaintance with earthly affairs, and the subsequent loss of innocence that degrades us to what we are today. It's either be empty or be emptied. Of what, that would for now remain a metaphysical question.
Speaking of which, MW has a new blog. Apparently he's putting up all his rants there...the first few lines were f*ing emo for crying out loud lol. Well at least now I know my blog isn't the only emo dump in the vicinity. Just that his is more cynical, more acerbic, and mine is more...alkaline? =__=
So much for a screwed up chem SPA (that is now screwing up my mind).
And now the politically correct things.
Happy Racial Harmony Day! Regardless of race, language, religion, blahblahblah.....:D But you get the point. All races unite woohoo! XD
Oh boy, do I love diversity hm.***~~~*Played with the winds at 10.36pm*~~~
Monday, July 12, 2010
'Ts been a while again hm? Life has been keeping me busy. Pretty much. Though I should say that ever since the reprieve from June Hols I've been taking things slightly slower and easier than before...but dang, it's only the 3rd week of term 3, I'd better shut up.
So...the annual UOB art competition has ended with Bai Tian Yuan's topping as best painting of the year. She's from JC1! Isn't it cool? I mean...she's only 18 years old and she won a competition whose previous winners have mostly been renowned Singaporean artists - surely that's something. She said she had started in art since a really young age...and Mrs Lai also confirmed that she had really good art foundations since she entered school. Sounds like one of those art prodigies who begun at ages 5 or younger. >.<
I know this sounds funny, or ridiculous, it depends on how you interpret it. But yes, I have NEW PLANS. I'm going to aim for this UOB Art Competition. Serious. Well, what's so funny about that? I'll tell you it's the highest award a Singaporean artist can aspire to achieve (Mrs Lai's words) and for someone like me it's f*ing darn impossible, and you'll see what's funny. But I'm still giving a try. I don't care. This is a good opportunity, and even if I fail in utilizing it properly, I could at least make the effort to seize it.
Being a natural introvert (dammit) I've always been doubting my art skills so much, I've been hating this insecure feeling and accursed inconfidence that I seem to have in whatever I do. Sooner or later I'll have to overcome this problem. I can't always be the artist who hides my sketchbook away from others, or draws only when others are not around. I can't always be the artist who articulates my own inconfidence behind what others automatically assume to be "modesty" and "humility".
I can't always be the artist who sits in a corner and draws while stealing looks at others and wishing I could be better.
I need to get out of this little corner. I realized I need to go out, take stage in the centre of my own room and...just express myself. My world is my stage. Whichever way I want, however I want it to be. I control the backstage, and the frontstage. No restraints. No doubts. No fears. And speaking of which, cowardice is an ultimate NO NO.
All these things I've been doing...questioning myself, why I'm here, thinking what I could do for this world from within my field of passion...and also being frustrated with the words of adults saying it is a banal dream, a fool's ambition to escape from an all too realistic world...I think I have found one of the first answers I have been yearning to tell myself all these years.
I WILL stick with what I truly want to do. I will walk with my passion - wherever it goes, I will follow. Whatever frontier it takes me to, I will gladly explore. You cannot hold me back. No one can. I've been told many times that these will not work...that the only way to survive is to conform to everything society says. But f*k that.
Do not tell me to be who I am not. I am still a member of this society, and I will fulfill the duties required, and maybe more, of me. But telling me that I have to give up my passion, my love, basically giving up what makes up my identity, for this lone cause, I will not heed such crap. I will definitely find a way out of this. A path that merges both together.
I want to help the world. It's one of my sole purposes being here, being who I am; part of why I would be at times painfully frustrated with the negative energies in this dimension that plague even the purest of souls, and find myself desperately wishing for a distant idealistic world. I want, and will, help the world.
But not in the way that involves conventional jobs that derive the best economic profits. Not in the way that involves "politicking" your way up the ranks of society. Not in the way that makes sure you work like a dog in loathing or utter emotionlessness for a career that holds no specific meaning to you, other than the fact that it guarantees money. No, I will not go with this. without at least putting up a fight.
I want to help the world, through art, through expressing via imagery the things I would probably never be able to express by mouth or word. And most importantly, though also perhaps the most absurd of all dreams I can spout, I want to prove to others, to my parents, to society, to other budding artists, that no one should ever be fully confined by the status quo.
Gee, this sounds so uncharacteristically ego and ridiculous that I cringe at what I type. But for this once, I want to stop being that emo self as I've always been, even if it's just for a few seconds...just so I can tell myself...
I CAN do this, I WILL do this, and I HAVE done this.
Stop telling yourself you can't.
Because I believe in miracles. People are capable of miracles.
And I want to, and will, believe that I am equally capable of miracles too.
Just wait and see.***~~~*Played with the winds at 10.26pm*~~~
Sunday, July 4, 2010
A runaway dream...
Literally. This dream I had didn't feel nice or anything, instead it had felt downright depressing and hopeless, but somehow there were things within it that I had cherished, and experiences which I had never thought of having before. Here goes:
It began with me being on the highway connecting SG and M'sia, at midnight, when suddenly the highway began slanting downwards (I dunno how that's possible, it was as if part of the land beneath one of the ends began sinking or something) into the ocean. So logically I slid down with it, but before I dropped down the highway fell onto...land? Uh yeah, but it was still very steep, and I found myself crawling back upwards with a lot of difficulty. There were a lot of cars around me, they just zoomed by...and I almost got knocked by this car that came from the back, but didn't, and I stayed close to the pillars.
I think my condition then was that...I was a runaway, or a wanderer, or just some wretched thing who doesn't have a place to go back to. >.>
Somehow I made it (back?) to the M'sia customs (erm don't ask me why "back", I live in SG and have no idea why I would be "going back" to M'sia). But the people there were seriously something. Not only did they absolutely not care a heck about my condition, which was like, worn out, tired, shaken, er, just downright pathetic...ahem...they had taken a damn long time getting me through the customs. There was this woman who said they needed to take a photo of me (huh?). I complied and stared at the camera, but it just wouldn't work. And I was exhausted.
Then this guy working there suddenly said something about it being very late and that they should go home. I was like thinking "Hey but you can't just leave me here! At least get me through the customs!" and for some VERY weird reason I called out to him in Japanese, "daisan dankai!" which practically means "it's already the third stage (of the customs)!" Then he was like "daisan dankai ka...?" and then decided to stay a little longer till I was through. Yeah, funny huh.
Scene change.
It was still the same night, and I'm still the same person. This time round I was in some kind of orphanage-like place, or rather...like a home for juvenile delinquents, or runaways in this case, kind of like a prison but in a very unrealistically free and easy way. I was in the elevator with two guys who were both wearing gray hoodies and drinking from cans - probably fizzy drinks or something. They were damn quiet and had the hoodies drawn up, like classical emos. Erm so yea we reached the ground floor and managed to get out of the place into a grayish parade-square like place...with a platform that held the flagpoles and stuff.
We had planned to run away together. It was weird, I didn't have any horrendously negative feelings towards that place, but somehow in the dream I needed, no, wanted to leave it. I had a choice to stay. I had things in that place for which I had wanted to stay. And yet something compelled me to leave...
Anyway, I climbed up (with difficulty?) to the flagpole platform (which was really wth since it was such a conspicuous place) after the two guys, and noticed the fat old guard with a white beard holding a flashlight and talking to someone in the square. Somehow he didn't notice us. Right.
Then when the other two guys were going to make a (stealthy) run for it, I held one of them back and whispered, "Are you sure you want to leave this place? If you go out into the rest of the world you wouldn't be able to survive, they wouldn't want us. This place provides us with the basic stuff. At least we get to live here. Outside there there is no future for us."
When I said that I felt kind of weak and helpless. I had really contemplated that said "future" before that. I had really felt, no, seen darkness wherever I looked, and the only place where I could ever be relatively safe and accepted was that not-home I had been stuck in. I was a runaway in the dream, remember? A runaway who was going to leave the only place she could survive in. Throw it behind and heading for death for unknown reasons, even though I knew that going out beyond was going to kill me. But my decision was...it was there. I felt a pressing depression wherever I looked, back and forth, between that "home", and the darkness outside that forewarns future-less years.
Well, the guy stared at me disapprovingly, but then the guard noticed us, came over and shone his torchlight into my face. o_0 He was surprisingly friendly. Brought us back to the place, in time for breakfast (btw the signboard said that breakfast started at 2am something and ended at 8.30am???). The weirdest, and yet also the best part of this dream is that...when he brought us back, I felt a small sense of warmth.
It was kind of like the sense of warmth when you're finally accepted. Finally belonged. Finally loved after years of not being so.
I know it's really funny that I'm saying all these, had this kind of dream and experience in the dreamlife, when my real life provides me with majority of what I need and want. In real life I have a home. That's the basic, foremost, and most important place to begin with. I have parents who, despite not being the most ideal, are doing a pretty good job at least in the materialistic ways and most of the psychological side. I am allowed to develop my passions, even though it clashed sometimes with my parents' orders. I had friends. I was safe. I know I belonged somewhere.
But in the dream? I didn't have a family. I didn't have parents. I didn't have anything but the basic needs for survival provided by a not-home in which I had not felt acceptance and warmth (except the little bit at the end of dream). I didn't have friends. I was in danger, and everyday was a survival exam (be it mentally or physically). I did not belong. I had no future.
They were such polar opposites. It was really weird that I would have such a dream experience at all. The helplessness...everything...it felt so real. It wasn't like I had lost everything. In this dream I did not even have anything at all.
Even weirder is the fact that this dream is the first in which I was running away from a "home". Usually in my dreams, most of the time I did not have a home (as in, I was just a single person, with no familial ties, no blood relationships, and did not care about the notion of home) or had a home that was the one I had in real life and had fit in nicely. And in one dream I visited the "home" and parents from a supposed "past life". But this dream....this dream is different. This time round I was running away from "home". And it wasn't even a real home. It was just kind of like the only place where I could ever have the chance of surviving.
The question this dream left me with was...home as a place where you get what you need for survival, or home as a place where you truly feel accepted and actually belonged?
Now that I think about it, I think this dream may have been evoked by recent situations in my real life. My parents have been mad over my results lately. They've arrived home everyday, been around me everyday, talking about nothing else other than results and future. They wanted me to draw up an "action plan" to improve my physics and chem, made me quit saturday art lesson, taking up physics and probably chem tuition instead. And threatened to confiscate all my art stuff if I ever get bad results again. Told me it was for my own good.
And I suppose the worst thing they said was, "what's the point of raising you up if you don't get back good results? Our family has never had any failures before. If this continues we wouldn't even have the face to go back to see your grandparents. If you grow up and become an utterly useless person our family might even disown you." - said in a harsher way, and in Chinese. Which makes it even harsher. >.>
So you raise me up so I can get back good results. Like you keep a pet dog so he can fetch you the stick. Heh. I see. At least I'm pretty sure they weren't serious about the "disowning" part.
"I'm going to kill off the passion you live for. It's for your own good."
I have a lot to think about.***~~~*Played with the winds at 11.56pm*~~~
Thanks to all the blogs the designer referred to (countless) for html code help :) (esp. cyn' and sixseven)
Adobe Photoshop Elements for supernatural abilities
