(Vio)late.

It is as if
the grey skies,
and the cold winter
aren't adequate.

Or the inadequate
justice
of my knowledge
on things
that can't
be undone.

Like this
space and time,
my solitude,
and
this distant part of the world
I have left
aren't what I deserved.

Because it crept into it,
it crept,
as if it is a natural thing to do.

And the only thing
I think I feel
is


Violated.

What I did on A Lazy Sunday Afternoon was watch The Graduate.

(Untitled 3)

Because yesterday, my Twitter feed was flooded by Laneway Festival tweets and twitpics, and the fact that I'm all over here, going through winter and most of my friends were in Singapore enjoying the sun and rain listening to Beach House, Foals, Yeasayer, Temper Trap etc.

Tunggu Summer, Reading festival! (Only cause Glastonbury is sold out).

Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction

Reverse Psychology. The thing with this is that when you reverse this, and you reverse it again, and reverse it again, and again, and again, it gets really complicated. And when you really get into your head, and once you've passed that certain point inside it, you can't turn back. That's what happened to me

- A patient in the psychiatric ward I volunteer in.

Despite it being one of the classic philosophical questions, it remains in the grey area without any clear distinction between the black and the white. And the very problem with Truth is that, it is pragmatic.

Truth and Reality differs accordingly across individuals. What may be true for you, may not be true for me. But that's just the problem right there.

How true is Truth?

You see, I am constructed towards subjectivity and pragmatism leaving little space for objectivity and the sort. I like to think I'm Cartesian in some ways. I am also, a highly intuitive being which means most of the time, decision-makings are rarely based on facts. Because facts can be manipulated.

I was also a science student who scored fairly decent grades for my science papers, and what I've learned is that variables too can be manipulated. So despite the knowledge that Life is full of variables which requires us to accomodate, to a certain extent, variables are manipulated by an outer force. Why? To attain that certain outcome that has been longed for.

These thoughts started to reconstruct themselves (since I last studied on Truth and Reality few years back) when I was writing this particular essay few odd weeks ago which centralises the notion of intersubjectivity and mutual ground.

What happens when 2 constructions of (true) reality do not fit and accommodate one another?

I was at one of the wards in the local psychiatric hospital for my volunteering. What we are supposed to do is converse with the patients which would be a really good practice with what I'm learning. But that apart;

I was conversing with one of the patients who conveyed to me clearly her distinction of Truth and Reality. I supposed, it gave a sense of confidence of what she was telling since she has been 'clinically diagnosed'. It is then manageable to distinguish between the Reality shared by most individuals (including myself) and an individual who has been 'clinically diagnosed' with delusions (or perhaps 'psychoses'). Hence, some sort of a black and white realm on its own.

But what has been racing back and forth at the back of my mind is the grey area of pragmatic Truth and Reality. The kind where you know in reality, the person is not 'clinically diagnosed' of any psychopathology, but the 'Truth' spoken by the person is highly unlikely. It may be logical, but due to circumstances, you just know it is unlikely. After all, the highly intelligent individuals are the sort - refer to Silence of the Lamb. It is the state of being in between two polarisations that swallow us all.

What is worse in these conditions is that when you start doubting your Self, Truth and Reality that it may destroy your internalisations as you can only take as much. I mean sure you may say it's all about your self-esteem, confidence and the sort. But if you believe in pragmatism and subjectivity as much as I do, the lines get blurry.

But I guess that's where Faith comes in.

Turning Tables.

The thing about Adele is that she makes music out of the age years I'm supposed to learn from. Probably because coincidentally, she shares similar developmental stages like I do. Then, when I was 19, and today, when I'm 21. And her new album is brilliant :D

Save The Last Dance.

You see, growing up I have always failed to see the significance of a dance.

The one that takes two to tango. Ballroom dancing or that overrated prom dance that you kids look forward to. It may be because I was not brought up in a culture where these dances do not place a heavy emphasis, or that this aspect of Westernization has not been well spread to that part of the world that I grew up in. I grew up learning traditional Indian dance, Ghamelan, and occasionally the not-so-Malay-dances because really, they're all just jumbled up to one another. But that was when I was below 12. I can't dance, I can't sing. But I like to think so.

So point is, I grew up failing to see the significance of a dance.

There was this time, when The Killers' single from Day & Age, Human, came out, my friend texted me and asked why did Brandon Flowers wrote "Are we humans or are we dancers?". Unbeknownst of the accurate answer (which I found out 1 year and odd months later), I said it was because dancers were tied down to the beats and melodies of a song, they merely follow the beat and just dance. They're not given much space to exercise human qualities. Humans, are much more complexed than just dancing. Humans are constructed by many pragmatic truths and realities whereas dancers, are attuned towards the music.

Yet, I still fail to see the significance of a dance.

It was in class that it hit me. A dance (at least a metaphorical one) shared by two individuals is brilliantly beautiful.

Two individuals meet at a mutual ground, and take a test of the compatibilities of their minds. If their minds are compatible, they move in sync in the dance. They reciprocate with the beat of the music. They don't need to put much effort to collaborate, because even to the slightest move and the way they hold each other signifies the common ground that they share.

On the other hand, if they fail to meet in the common ground and feel one another, that's where the rupture is. If it was a collaboration and negotiation that we look for, that can be arranged in all human interactions and what you need is just tolerance. But dances take more than that, it takes a common feeling found in that mutual ground of two individuals. No technical aspects are required. After all, you're told to feel the music not analyse it. You sing and feel the lyrics, not criticize the structure and the grammar of its lyrics.

And that's what it's supposed to be like.

You can dance your entire life with the people you meet. The choreography will differ from one dance to another. It will also, gives you different impacts in your life. You can definitely always try a new dance routine with a new dance partner. But ask yourself this: Do you have to be technical about it or do you just let it come naturally?

Mad.

What is meant to be metaphorical has become the surface and the obvious. Underneath, a bottomless well.

Top of the Pop

Heavy.

Because Lungs was on heavy rotation whenever I drive in the year 2009 as well as in my iPod. And well, because I really am not a fan of the Twilight Saga, but their OSTs are awesome.

And well, because the video is simply haunting. Gave me that scary victorian funeral feeling.

On another note, why on earth do I feel I need to explain myself all the time?

When do you feel most alive? (Redundant)

Passion gives me moments of wholeness

Anaïs Nin

"When do you feel most alive?", I asked a good friend of mine just 5 days before the new year. There isn't any rationale behind my question, of course. Just the state of feeling as a part of the whole; a tiny node of the complex ecology. And out of curiosity of the other individual's internalisation.

But mostly because, there are times when I get the feeling of emptiness. You know, the feeling where you feel you're really just drifting through time and getting caged up inside your head?

There are also, moments when I feel fulfilled and alive. It is when I'm reading concepts, ideas and interventions on solipsism with a particular playlist on my iPod driven by that particular muse. Or when I walk in the halls of the local psychiatric ward last Monday for an interview.

And I didn't know what it was until yesterday...

Passion, that's all it takes.

Motion.

Remember your Newton laws?

The answer is, stability.

That's what we're all looking for really.

This marks my welcoming of 2011.

Every year, without fail, I tell myself that I need to live. Carpe f- diem. But every single year, I find myself caught in the vicious cycle.

I simply do not know how to.

Relational Concept.

They don't correlate for nothing. It's all over the space. Coincidences are for 4-year-olds who think the world is small, and not relative.

And really,

I'm just talking about my essay unless of course you can read it into something else. I mean come on, what do you think I am, four?

21. Her second single, I reckon.

Content (and Happy!)

I feel free.

And

in tangent.

Just in time.

Closer

"What's so great about the truth? Try lying for a change, it's the currency of the world".

Jude Law in Closer.

Too bad I don't live in the real world, so I don't appreciate manipulated truth.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

To the uninspired state.

It is like when you attempt to look deeper and all you get is void.

It is like acknowledging the presence of your Muse,

but you rather not move your limbs towards.

It is like investing a quarter of your life,

but you are still unsure of your own capabilities.

It is like falling in an endless pitfall. Only it takes no form.

It is like trying to swim in the mighty ocean of rowdy tidal in the middle of nowhere.

But all you do is just float.

Apa benda ni lah weh? Aku nak buat esei.

All I feel are these.

To the worst of him.

Not that it matters now, anyway.

01/01/11