Tuesday, January 29, 2008
No heartache or the truth to cry for.
I knew no pain,
Nor the chances I should take to survive.
I knew no gain,
As the games I played has been sincerely mine.
I knew nothing changes,
As the world seeks for it’s own past without looking for the future.
I suck in air,
As the earth releases the stress.
I bled red blood,
Petals turned red as my blood touches the surface.
I no longer sing,
As the earth went deaf the day the flood left.
I no longer seek,
As what I wish to find no longer live on earth.
I close my eyes,
Just to see myself cry at a distance,
I close my ears,
I could still hear words of anger piercing my heart.
I shut my mouth,
I still hear myself swearing at the top of my lungs.
I turned my heart away from the earth,
But from the back I felt a stinging pain from my past.
Shall I seek to find what I seek for will never belong?
Shall I wait to see the sun rise in the east and sets in the west?
Shall I wait to hear a tune from the angel who wishes I was saint?
Shall I dance to the tune of the devil from a distance?
Shall I look back to see myself turn into salt?
Darkness fell on the brightest path of the future,
Just to turn its pathway into miserable present.
Why do I seek to find a burial ground?
A tombstone for my heart which cry out in the middle of the night.
Why do I seek to save my dying heart?
When what’s left for me is a piercing pain that leaves my soul at ease.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
As I began reminiscing on the teachings of my surroundings for the past 12 months, I came to realised the fulfilment of true education is through accepting what nature has to offer. I learnt that a calm mind is imperturbable by its distress surroundings and that meditation brings you to places where it’s off limits in reality. Fantasies are like what the Mormons believe kept on the golden plates by the angel Moroni which was then passed on to Joseph Smith Jr. Reality is that religion is whatever you hold on to with utmost worship and commitment without the necessity of faith and fundamentalism. Faith is your relationship with “Whomever” (God, angel or a mythical creature) that you hold on to religiously without outer influences. Traditionalism can never be scraped off the earth no matter how extinct an ethnicity could be as one will follow its footsteps and revolutionizes its teachings and follow the traditional root of the tradition once lived in order to be revitalised and relived. A massacre could be started off by hate in the heart but no need for weapons of destruction or even a physical reaction or retaliation. The mind is a powerful tool as it works as a controller to every emotions felt without the need to experience; just to know and think.
I laugh at the misery of humanity which shows no respect and always acting in unscrupulous ways. At the end of the line, they do not hurt their victims as much as themselves as they’ll suffer the costs through regret and death. I roll my eyes at men and women who pretend to be like celebrities they desire to become; with no individualism and authenticity whatsoever to call themselves ‘I’ and ‘Me’ and what’s ‘Mine’. I sanctify my heart to notice the doing of the earth and come to an understanding of what’s wrong and right and in between. As a statement goes, ‘you need to be cruel to be kind’, it left a mere grey spot for further negotiation of what is right and wrong or does neutrality makes a point in life?
Look into the eyes of an acquaintance and never take charge in a speech. Let his/her experiences inspire your mind but never cloud your judgments on the life they live. Shake a hand of a stranger like a man with no friends which sums up to a hand shake of gratitude and honesty. Speak like a good Samaritan, but never like a pope. Let your heart wonder to its furthest and embrace life with hope. There are certain times you inspire, but other times live as an enigma in another’s life. Be pure to what you believe and never conform to the masses. Live life rudimentarily without flamboyance which you will never understand; ostentation kills the soul and clouds the mind and leads to its damnation without any penny left to spare.
I’ve come to terms with the art of love, like and hate and that hate will be an art which will be difficult to achieve and aspire, because when a person hates, his life turns sour and bitter which artwork needs to be reverted or dispatched from the world of soothing colours and melodic chimes. A work of art needs love and inspiration to fulfil. It needs colours to brighten every edge and every angle the viewers admire. ‘Hate’ is tinted and associated with black and grey where the skies never shine and the moon as vague as stars in the day. ‘Like’ is a white piece of paper ready to be written with inspiring words and one’s aspirations. ‘Love’ is a finished picture which potent story narrates in series with less room for correction of incorrectness. In love, there will and should be no erroneous assumptions, just regret and agony once love has faltered. ‘Love’ and ‘Hate’ are masterpieces which speak with potent actions but less desirably that ‘hate’ should be fulfilled.
Enjoy the moment of truth but never let it come to terms with you. When you enter a cathedral, let the teachings inspire you but never dictate your teachings for the morrow. Think thoroughly and laterally before you speak and let the words flow without hesitations. Make a correction when your mistakes are made to see potentiality for a new beginning for evolvement. Never hide your pride with assertiveness, just tone its attitude along with words of firmness. Never think you know as much, just realised others have potential as yourself.
Much I’ve learnt and there always will be room for further improvement and acquirement. New Year’s resolution could not be made without the understanding of past mistakes of my dwelling moments of days I’ve lived through. Life has its complication, but what is life without its potent complexities but just mere perfection? I’ve learnt that perfectionism sits at a corner and sulk as spontaneous-ism takes over as a rule of life. Perfectionism is mundane which drags the understanding of life towards finalisation which, in the end, will be scripted flamboyantly onto tombstones of the dead. Whatever life may bring, remember that it is worth nothing unless you fulfil what you need and not what you want but do not need. Life’s mystery is insoluble, live with the suspense and hope you find the next piece to your puzzle.