epilogue: today's special

2ript said...
"Twisted love tastes better, bitter, sweet."

and i say...
but why do you eat?

to tease the tastebuds of your tongue
or to sate your starving soul?

i mean, stomach...

when sensation takes over function
that's when it becomes an obsession

did i hear somebody say addiction?

"I REFUSE TO BE DEPRESSED"

fuck reason, fuck caution
for tonight and many more to come
let's revel and rewel
if Hafiz can lose himself in wine
and his ghazals to God
so shall i rejoice in my
in my psychedelic sonnets
to the self

so call me superfificial
so call me self-absorbed

i got tired of
waiting for Godot...

waiting to inhale

the sweet fumes of truth

wafting invitingly
just slightly beyond reach

luring seductively
just barely out of touch

suffering the silence
keeping up the appearance

of blithe nonchalance
choking on your own intemperance

what am i talking about, really?
i just want to say that whitney houston got it wrong. if she thinks that waiting to exhale is the worst form of suffering then one day she should go ahead and let
all that air out, till there's none left in her. go on, revel in the relief of that complete release. till her lungs are but two empty vacuous bags.

and then, wait.

and wait...

and

wait...

not knowing for sure if another gust of air will come her way so she could take another gulp. on the one hand, almost collapsing from the relief of finally letting go of all that's pent up. on the other, cursing herself for letting go of all of that last one.

"you can't have your cake and eat it too."

the internal squabble of the cake eater and the cake keeper

keeper: now isn't that smart, what we gonna do now with no air?

eater: but that's all stale anyway, what's the point of keeping it in?

keeper: well, better stale air than no air isn't it?

eater: no, i'd rather let it all out so i'll be ready for the next breath of fresh air

keeper: yah well, you can't really be sure if there's going to be some coming your way can you?

eater: of course, besides you got to be fair to the air. if you don't let it out, it's just gonna stay stale in you. now maybe it'll get recycled and come your way again.

and so the ceaseless banter goes on till she chokes on the anticipation of inhaling a breathe of fresh air that just wasn't there.

so should she have waited to exhale?

if she had held on to that last batch of air she had, she'd have choked anyways from trying to suppress what's meant to be expelled.

time of death of each scenario: plus minus a few nano seconds of each other.

and so my point is?

the suffering is not in the exhaling or inhaling.

the suffering is in the waiting.

today's special

we order
twisted love
when all our mouths really need
is
toasted bread.

in the midst of a frenzied brainstorm
in aid of a younger; facing the perrenial
make or break deadline
i chanced upon an image of you
to add to the countless i've already
snapped in my head for posterity

oh the things you do
the lengths you go to
just to coax another poloroid moment
another intellectual union
capable of circumventing
our arbitrary amnesia

and so tonight
in your reflection
it was a Stradivarius i saw
twirling precariously
delayed from its inevitable fall
from grace
by its own E string
that snapped due to overplaying
imagine your lifeline
a mere fragile nylon string
held at the fingertips
of a fickle fiddler

and yet
such is the import you place
on neverending dancing and singing and merrymaking
you pulled strings just so the music goes on
and the indefatigable swirling and twirling
could forge on its frenetic pace

gathering breadth and depth
and speed and strength
from the hollow tunes
of a violin coerced into yet another perky foxtrot
when it yearns only to weep in melancholia
nobody knows that
with every stroke of
its razor-sharp bow,
a ceaseless haemorrage from
the very belly
which had given birth to
sprightly, jaunty tunes aplenty

so subtle the gestures
so unmartyr-like
in his faithful service
to his doting queens
that an apparently perceptive observer
could still so innocuously ask

"sometimes i wonder, do you have a death wish?"

and in all selflessness
the violin sang a reply so simple
the truth echoes like a haunting melody
cajoling unbidden tears from an unruffled heart
stirred

"if my death is your wish,
then it shall be my command."

why can't we just be happy?

we ask for the sun when we know the moon wud have been enuff...
that's why we get sunburnt.

curiosity kills the cat

my, my... the angst of the previous entry, so reminiscent of the anti-establishment sentiments of an angry 16-yr old. except i never was an angry 16 year old. in retrospect, i was probably one of the more law-abiding, god-fearing, healthy clean-cut, well adjusted teenager i know. didn't listen to alanis or smashing pumpkins or black sabbath. had no rage against the machine. but then again, there was no need for all that. i grew up in an environment so protected from the scumbags of the universe that there was nothing to invoke such negativity in me.

then curiosity got the better of me. so i took the road more travelled. the one that's been trodden by people from all walks of life and so i came into contact with all the types that i would never have met and loved and hated had i just kept to the priviledged, members-only path that my parents had chosen for me. if only i didn't stray, then i would have continued being in the company of people like myself. then and i could have continued living under the illusion that the world is a rosy place with people who are smart and nice and well-dressed and ethical and polite and do not get a perverse kick out of screwing your day. and what an enchanted life that would have been. and i would have died happy.

but we can't undo what's been done. and we live with consequences of our decisions. everyone knows that. sorry for stating the obvious. i don't mean to insult your intelligence but you see, i no longer have the confidence that everyone was in the queue when God was giving out brains and common sense.

if i have one request and one request only, it's this.
can the person who took my rose-tinted glasses please, please return it to me?

the glare of reality is making me blind.

message to the world

i am going to be whatever you think i am. whatever that might be. i'm tired of proving you wrong. i think from now on, i'll do both you and i a favor and prove you right, all the time. cause i know how much you hate admitting that you're wrong when somebody actually takes the trouble to do it. and i know the power rush you get when the correctness of your opinion is conceded by others. so think of this as a gift from me to you. furthermore, since most of the time you are only capable of negative thoughts when it comes to me anyway, i figured it'd be a lot more fun to go along with you. that way, i can do naughty things. the constant uphill struggle tires me.

i am afterall malay. you know what you say about us, we're a lazy lot. so, i guess i'll start by lying on my lazy back and proving you right.

it's okay, you can thank me for it later...

coincidence?

-defensive
-denial
-delusional
-disenchanted
-defiant
-dazed
-disillusioned
-deviant
-dumb
-ditzy
-delirious
-dependent
-dysfunctional
-dead

all these words start with the letter "d". you know what else starts with the letter "d"?
drugs.

oh, how CONVENIENTLY COINCIDENTAL...

2004: the year in review

musings at three and two score...

270304

One does wonder sometimes if there’s a clause in our contract with God that states that you can’t be too happy with your life, that if you think you’re at that point in your life where everything is going too well, Fate is automatically programmed to throw you a curveball and jar you from your blissful dream. Fate; life’s alarm clock. It’s a good thing I guess. It reminds us that we haven’t gotten it all figured out, that we’re not, contrary to popular belief, masters of our own universe.

300304

What will you do with me when you’re bored. Will you cast me to the bottom of the pile like a forgotten toy. Or will you return me to the shops in exchange for another, like an unwanted Christmas present. Or will you just bide your time till I figure it out for myself, so that I’ll save you the trouble of doing anything at all. They say action speaks louder than words. Inaction speaks louder than that. That awkward silence that’s hanging in the air, it’s killing me.

310304

What do you do when you wake up one day and realize you’re not young anymore. That the mistakes you do can’t be written off as the follies of your youth. That you are held countable for your every deed and word. What do you do when you realise that despite knowing all this you’re still as lost as you were when you first decided to start growing up. What do you do when you realise that you’re done growing up. And you’re still the girl you were ten years ago.

010404

It’s nice to know that you discover something new about yourself everyday. Today I discover that I’m actually quite mad. That there’s this insane self-destructing mechanism in me that destroys the very thing that makes me happy. Why do I do it? I don’t really know. Maybe it’s because I know happiness is not meant for someone the likes of me. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid that if I allow myself that happiness now, I’ll have to deal with the pain and hurt that will inevitable follow it. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid to allow that happiness for fear that I just might decide that like everything in life, it’s not all that it’s hyped up to be. Maybe this is all just a bunch of psychobabble bullshit. Happy birthday, Shida. New day, new year, same old you. It’s nice to know that some things and some people, never change.

indulge me in my pseudo intelligentsia

The Reconciling of Utilitarianism and Liberty.

The very basis of mill’s concept of utilitarianism is hinged upon bentham’s theory of ‘greatest happiness’ ( the greatest happiness yielded by the greatest number of people). This concept, simply put, sustains the “majority rules” theory that is the very backbone of many democratic states. This is all and well if you were part of the majority. However, what if you happen to be a part of the minority whose preferences are suppressed due to the fact that the community you exist in subscribe to mill? How then can you argue for your rights, or more accurately; preferences to be heard and considered against the preferences of the majority without coming into conflict with mill’s theory of utilitarianism.

At first glance it does seem as if the path we are to tread upon would be a quagmire of paradoxes and conflicting yet reconciliable concepts.

On the one hand, mill, coming from the consequentialist camp, argues that, an action should be judged, either right or wrong, based on how its outcome has benefited or caused detriment to society at large. Very much like the economic theory of “opportunity cost”, mills argues for a list of preferences; the highest on the list would be the one that is most approved by the greatest number of people in that community, regardless of the nature of that preference, be it rational or otherwise.

“It is illegal to leave your house without wearing underwear.”
This is an actual law in Thailand. This law though rather silly and frivolous in nature, is a clear manifestation of mill’s utilitarianism.

It reflects how a mere preference over a trivial issue could be imposed on every member of the community in the event that the majority shares that particular preference. What then happens to the rights of the few who wants to, for example, let it ‘hang loose’ and go au naturel? Doesn’t this then reflect on how mill’s theory infringes on the liberty of the minority to exercise their views and preferences?

Some utilitarian advocates however beg to differ. They maintain that mill’s theory is in actuality egalitarian in nature, in the sense that he looks only at the preferences of the individual regardless of their gender, ethnicity or social status. (idea of universal suffrage) And therefore by that very qualification mills is said to be a ‘supporter’ of liberty (in its most basic of its philosophical definition) and minority rights.

Therein lies the ironic truth in the aforementioned claim. Afterall is an individual’s preference not prejudiced by his/her gender, ethnicity and social background? Isn’t that individual’s belief system not shaped by his social environment? Therefore, whether he likes to admit it or not, he is but a product of social norms and construct. Which is why, mill is right to hypothesise that by allowing individuals to assert their personal preference, we are merely allowing the majority’s view to take shape and form, albeit in a slower and much more gradual process.

Originality of thought and belief is overrated. Sad but true. they’ll all come around to OUR way of thinking eventually, whether they know it or not…

warning: these times they are a-changing...

sorry if by speaking my mind i shed light to the undeniable difference we tried to keep under wraps.
sorry if by making my preferences known i shattered the illusion of mutual likes and dislikes.
sorry if by taking a stand i ruined your weekend plan.

sorry if the truth have a way of making the inevitable imminent.

reAd.wiThiN.tHe.LiNes

munajad.

i am grateful.
for the light you keep shining even as i roll my self in coal.for the glints of truths you keep teasing me with.for the poignant simplicity of your wisdom.for your patient indulgence of this wayward wanderer.for you are All-Benign, All-Forgiving, All-Benevolent.
for that, i am grateful.

and i hope.
one day when the sun rises and sets no more.i will finally be worthy.of the gifts you bestowed on me.the redemption you promised me.the faith i have in me.
in Thee.

Amin.

in the true spirit of...

30th Ramadhan 1426H/1st Syawal 1426H

it was an enchanted eve he said. who could have asked for more; great company, good conversation, jolly laughs. none of the hustling and jostling in the crowded, merry streets of Geylang. none of the forced, plastic good cheer of the Hari Raya bazaar. just the quiet reserved air of Queen Street. an almost reverent hush hangs over the dark alleys. a sign of respect for the passing of a month holy. as if mourning the demise of Ramadhan; which has seen so many of my fellow warriors soldier on in the battle against temptations and the evil within. and yet to celebrate their triumph, they indulge in excess and surfeit. oblivious to the irony that hangs over their heads like an axe.

"to the victor goes the spoils..."

*shrug*

to you and i it seems that the tragic beauty of Eid Mubarak was revealed. to us who have let Ramadhan come and go without as much as a hello. it is in the easy camaderie, the selfless favors and patient tolerance. don't you see, silly? that's what it's all about. that's the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. that's His way of saying I will wait for you to make your way back home. and even if you might take a while, i'll light the way so you don't forget. light the way with lucky breaks in rocky moments.

you think my semi-charmed life is testimony to that?
then again, maybe it's just me trying to make myself feel special on a special day.
while i'm drifting further away...

eid mubarak for the lost souls

what do i celebrate?
that i spent a whole month not abstaining from my indulgence? that despite the promise of the absence of the devil, my own evil went unchecked?
what am i supposed to do come tomorrow?
ask for forgiveness anyway when it's so patently obvious that sincerity and remorse is so sorely lacking in my apologies? be merry and relish a sinful meal of ketupat and rendang at twelve in the afternoon as if i haven't been stuffing my face during daylight for the past one month?

help me out a little here cause i'm lost.

rituals are just rituals right? the mechanical methodical going though the motion which could mean anything or everything or nothing to someone. just grit your teeth, smile through the whole process and get it over and done with as painlessly and as quickly as possible so that you can go on with life as you know it. it's just a token gesture. no big deal, right? right?

seriously, i don't know. but i tell you what, if i do get past tomorrow; kneeling in front of my parents and asking them to forgive me my sins and faults and promising to be a better person when in my hearts of hearts i know that it's a promise i have neither the ability nor the inclination to keep, and not feel like a rat, then yah, you're right. rituals are just rituals...

i'm sure nobody gave any serious thought to why certain things are done in certain positions at certain times. why they're called "rituals" and not "random action" is totally beyond me.

right...