The greatest quest has always and always will be about understanding.
Only upon understanding that one is able to particpate, in hope of walking on the middle path, to find centre.

ella ella ay ay ay

Spirited

Now, more so than ever, we need to sync our thoughts to our actions.

We are afterall, living in the psychic generation. It's just not probable to deceive anymore.

It's an innate instinct gaining on momentum.

Dear universe,

I just realized I've made a fool out of myself.
I cried myself a river but still, the river couldn't take me away.
will you send me to another supernova so its brilliance will blind me from my incomprehensible sorrow?

信任是一种解脱
没有它是糊涂的困扰
勇气则是信任的赌注

A lie is a lie, there is no innocence, only intention.

Impulsive or Instinctive?

cosmic head games are no fun

another relapse
to replace

Mean what you say or take a hike
A shrug & company of one is contentment.

The green snake slithered all over me and it felt good.
I slept with it next to me and awoke with chunks of flesh bitten off from my palm and arms.
My flesh wounds were uneven holes and I saw my white bones within.
I picked up the same snake and realized it was crushed and flattened. I must have accidentally slept on it when I was asleep in my sleep. Then, like a balloon, the snake revived itself and bit me again.
I quickly found a plastic aquarium and trapped the green snake inside. I stared at it and found an octopus on the side.
Suddenly, the snake began to grow into enormous size, almost breaking the fragile plastic.
In a fit of panic, I threw the whole thing out of my window.

The truth will always come, eventually;
although we may not be there to see it but nonetheless feel content with just that.

one month faster in realization, three months slower in execution

Some things might change sooner than others, some might not
But all things are perishable

Francesco Clemente

turtle fresh out of its shell

(wrote this a year after his death, found it again this morning) 

Last year, when my dad was dying at the hospital, I was in the car with my sister, and we were rushing back from KL to see him. When we arrived at the hospital, it was 3 something in the morning and the security guards let us in without any questions. I had no clue what reactions to display or what right emotions to be aware of. Fifth floor and through a narrow green corridor with families sleeping on tikar and thin blankets, we saw him. The body before us was covered from head to toe, but I knew it must be him.

We were too late.

Relatives were by his bedside, some were weeping from a distance and some chanted. My mother, tanned and weary was chanting Amitabha, we joined in and robotically chanted together. The cloth that covered him was bright yellow, shiny and with Chinese characters written all over. I read some of the words; they were supposed to protect him on his journey.

I also read somewhere that when a person dies, he/she experiences a contact that is beyond speech, and the closest way to put it, is to imagine a ‘turtle fresh out of its shell’, so sensitive towards its surrounding that a whisper is like the sound of thunders, and a cry breaks a heart into pieces infinite in numbers. 

That was why we held our tears.

I wondered how my dad was coping with his new ‘out of shell’ experience.

My dad died in a General Hospital and in the 3rd class wad, it was an open space filled with single hospital beds as close to each other as possible. One ceiling fan for four patients and it worked well on rainy days but failed on any other given days. When my dad died, the fan was spinning slowly, and I remembered how his neighbours pretended to be asleep.

The nurses who were usually talented at displaying their discontent were now silent.

They pretended not to notice; some tried to show condolences or sympathy but failed miserably.

Then the bearded man came to ‘transfer’ the body to our chosen obituary hall; like a parade in a ghostly town, we marched with the bearded man who put a silver lid on my dad’s dead body like a turkey waiting to be served. We left the main building behind and arrived at a depressing little one. 

I stood next to my dad and saw his feet. They were so tensed, as though stretching to reach somewhere very far, distinct blue river veins frozen underneath a cold pale film. 

My dad is dead. At that moment, I was still reminding myself of this fact, and how naive I was to think that I knew then what death is. ...

爸爸早已原谅我的不孝
一直都知道最难原谅的是我自己

离群索居

别再找我了，我不要了
我去寻找能释放我的真理
没名也罢
没钱也罢
红尘越来越没有吸引力

习惯性的让键盘打出文字，今天突然心血来潮要抄书，
一笔一画很痛快。

我愛文字但美麗誠懇動人的文字深藏不露，
逃出來的也只是輕言妄語。

頌

春有百花秋有月
夏有涼風冬有雪
若無閒事挂心頭

便是人間好時節

we are who we are
like many before and after us
confused and in the dark.

Semberono

Suatu hari nanti, sikap semberono aku mungkin akan membinasa

Hari ini, kemungkinan itu lebih nyata.

surrounded by sleepwalkers, she looked for sign of life.

huff puff, restless no more.

she is one of them.

沉默不代表有心事，只是懶惰講話在放空

Bionic peeps roaming on the streets...

Some with cochlear implants dating from early 2000. Insufficient funds and power are often the reason; the sufferers may understand but nonetheless are unhappy and habitually feel inadequate in more than one ways.

Pure breed is extinct and we are further away from the truth but there is nothing we cannot do and no place we cannot go.

This planet is no different from the other and time is but just a stale magic trick.

Gender becomes nostalgic indulgence and moral is but a reminiscence for the homeless.

I've found the answer to immortality but it's already old news.

everybody has their life crisis

what's yours?
no...wait a minute, I don't really want to hear it.

我這悠悠放任的日子

短暫無常

3

tea at 3, chi

xoxo

妄想只是烦闷

宇宙人生真相才是自由

哪一個凡人不苦悶？

disappointment & frustration, what a pitiful concoction