Carpe Diem

THOUGHTS

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Found this veeery interesting, and somewhat disturbing.

What do Middle Earth and Football have in Common

ole and frodo

david and aragorn

Collina and Smeagol. or Gollum.

steve and merry

beckham and another gay elf

Delivered at 7:09 PM;

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Sorry to leave my Catholic debate hanging, but I think that's enough for a while. Oh but fyi, I'm kinda skeptical to the claim by extreme Protestants that if you count the letters in the title of the Pope - Vicar of the Son of God or Vicarius Christi in Latin( like A =1 , B=2, etc) you'll get 666. I think that's too creative to be real though..eek.

Anyway just got my IC done, which means Inescapable Cruelty or identity card depending on how you look at it. Whatever it stands for, it means that I've offically pledged myself to the gahmen and all it's vices for the next majority of my life. The whole process of getting the dirty deed done was surreal and rather intriuging, if I may add.

The ICA(Immigrations and Checkpoint Authority) building is a deep, metallic and unfriendly grey. With aunties in coats and ah sohs in tuxes you know you'r e gonna get trouble. They man every counter, be it the IC making, passport making, photo taking, cake baking etc, and posses the uncanny ability to divert wannabe IC, passport makers and bakers away from their comfortable and cozy cubicle to the comfortable and cozy cubicle next to them. Damn when you're at ICA you inevitably feel like the newspaper wrapped gift at a crazed childrens' pass the parcel party. Went up to the first receptionist, "Hi Miss(I lie), I need to make my IC."
"Eh boy where you documents? Show show."
After ransaking my neatly filed stack of personal documents, she gasps and hyperventilates:-
"EH AH BOY, how come you birth certificate photocopy one?"
"Erm I can't find the original at present, but isnt this sufficeint to-"
"Noah noah cannot one. You go to counter 2234 and extract your Berf certificate then come back here."
As I turn to leave disgruntled, I over hear an indian man handing in an IC he found in the gents, however apparantly to no avail.

Indian Man: "I found this IC in the toilets, the staff at the ground floor told me to come up to the 2nd floor lost and found. But 2nd floor staff say come up her to IC department give you." I could tell that he lost a few kilos doing that Iron Man wild goose chase.

ICA Aging Agent: "Thank you sir..now If you will just go to counter:-
Indian Man: "Huh now you want me to go another counter.."
AA:"Yes, of course."

Shaking my head I made for counter 2234 to extract my birth certificate from the ICA archives. What, or who met me was this pudgy lady, who I thought would have wished to be off slim wrapping or playing mahjong rather than finding little boys' birth certificates.

"Wha you wan?"
"I'm here to extract my birth certificate for my IC."
"30 dollars."
"What?" I asked incredously.
"You never hear me say ah, I find BC must $30 one"
Reluctantly handing over a fifty, I notice her give me a look that would have turned Medusa to stone.
"Can't read ah boy, only use NETS or cash card lah"
"Don't you mean you don't have change for a fifty?"
"The ICA dun have change one la" *cue irritated look*
"The Immigration and Checkpoint AUTHORITY of the government dosne't have change for a FIFTY?" I didnt know whether to cry or to laugh. Eventually I managed to change the fifty for 5 tens from a kind soul nearby, and as I was walking back to Ms IC lamenting the state of affairs of the gahmen, Ms Mahjong said "eh you got photocopy BC ah, actually can one oso."

Damn.

The actuall process of making an IC is quite an interesting one..really makes you feel like you're part of the system. The electronic/ink thumprints et al...hmmm..but still a fairwarning to those visiting...

beware the agents in the Institute of Crazed Authority...

Delivered at 9:35 PM;

Saturday, April 09, 2005

1)The partial or complete obscuring, relative to a designated observer, of one celestial body by another.

2)A temporary or permanent dimming or cutting off of light.

3)A fall into obscurity or disuse; a decline: “A composer... often goes into eclipse after his death and never regains popularity”

4)A disgraceful or humiliating end; a downfall: "Revelations of wrongdoing helped bring about the eclipse of the governor's career."

In ancient times people percieved Eclipses, or when the moon came in between the Sun and the Earth, to be a curse from the gods. Total, consuming darkness where once stood broad daylight frightened them, filling inside them a void that could only be removed by light. The people of old wanted to be in the light, they wanted to shine like stars in the heaven. Or did they? Some were content to be shrouded in shadow, and let their deeds lie in the darkness. Ah the darkness, what a mystifying entity. Comforting yet threatening.

When Luna came between Earth and Sun, the glorious light was shut off from us. If there was ever a time to call a darkness pure, this was it. The eclipse hides the Sun, leaving us to our own dark devices, the blind leading the blind. The eclipse served its purpose in hiding people from the overpowering brillance of the Sun. And there were those who embraced it. The eclipse put a stake in between the radiance of the Sun and the people. Night embraced those who adored her. She was thankful for the eclipse, allowing for this never ending night. Darkness.. comforting yet threatening.

Oh seal up the sun, let not the stars give off their light. For these are days of darkness, where the light may not pervade the shadow.

Our hearts and souls get Eclipsed ever so often. The thick, black sin clogs up our innards, eating us from the inside out. We are eclipsed from the Son, cast away back into the shadow by our own decieful nature, where only the symphony of death plays a sad and rueful song. Sin eclipses us from the light, and where there is no light, there is no truth.

The hope is that an Eclipse is temporal. Even as the moon passes over the earth in its daming tenure, the Sun never stops shining. The Son never stops loving. Where there is light, there is no darkness. After a full circle, the moon becomes a reflector of the Son, not a hindrance to its radiating glow.

And God said let there be light....

Sleeping Sun
The sun is sleeping quietly

Once upon a century

Wistful oceans calm and red

Ardent caresses laid to rest

For my dreams I hold my life

For wishes I behold my night

The truth at the end of time

Losing faith makes a crime

I wish for this night-time

to last for a lifetime

The darkness around me

Shores of a solar sea

Oh how I wish to go down with the sun

Sleeping

Weeping

With you

Sorrow has a human heart

From my god it will depart

I'd sail before a thousand moons

Never finding where to go

Two hundred twenty-two days of light

Will be desired by a nightA moment for the poet's play

Until there's nothing left to say

I wish for this night-time...

Delivered at 8:38 PM;

i intend to live forever.

so far so good.

Delivered at 8:38 PM;

Saturday, April 02, 2005

I take a bus back home from school some days, especially now with the late days due to band. The ride home's a quasi excruciatingly gargantuan journey. Haha. The ride home takes approximately and hour or so, so I tend to sit on the upper deck on the bus, disregarding the laws of physics and equilibrium. Having the upperdeck mostly to myself and some other random people, I get a good amount of time in solitude, where there is not much distraction, besides the incessistant TV mobile repeats that never stop lagging, or the odd couple or gang making out and being stupid respectively. The ride home gives me good time to contemplate, however I must admit that most of the thoughts are hardly philosphy material. A bus ride home, especially a rather long one gives you that isolated time you need to.. I don't know..think? I'd rather say sleep.

On the bus home, you slip into a different sub-state of reality. I'd go as far to say that all ingeinous plans or diabolical agendas throughout the ages were planned on a ride home. The ride home symbolizes a returning journey. I know the bus route from school to home. As the vehicle traveses the route, one feels subconciously a sense of familarity and there is a concept of "returning home". Which is why waking up from a deep slumber and realize that you're

a) On the wrong bus
b) Missed your stop
c)Both

gives a unique sense of horror that one can't really replicate elsewhere. Especially at night...ooooooooooooooooooohh. The feeling when you wake up, and you don't recognize your surroundings, when you try to seek solace or sympathy from the other passengers and are greeted with cold, dark stares. You look outside the cold, frosted glass windows and cruel streets and dark roads stare back at you. Unfamilar..

When you wake up, and you realize that your perception of reality, what you recognize, has been snatched from beneath your feet. The feeling of emptiness, possibly panic. You ask the bus driver if you've missed your stop, he looks at you sadly and nods. However the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel is that you can turn back. You can right the wrong. But to do so you have to alight, cross a road and take the same bus back from whence you came.Face your demons.

I missed my stop tonight.

Delivered at 6:09 PM;