November 6, 2009

Knocking on Heaven’s Door

If we think that history is just one masochistic endless cycle after another, there seems little point to living. But if we think time is moving towards an inevitable destiny, then we should figure out what the end times look like. If we believe that the trajectory is moving downhill into a pit of destruction, again, there seems to be little point in trying. But if you think civilisation is moving uphill and progressively, then we should make sure we are on the side of the angels. The question of perfection presents a tougher choice on what to do as we await the final progressive day in history: will utopia come from passively believing that God will take care of us or agressively striving to rebuild the world on one’s efforts only?

A middle ground has to be struck between the religious fanatics and the rabid secularists – we should diligently work at perfecting the world, but we must not risk the pitfall of believing that imprect human beings and human institutions can complete the work. Utopian communes generally failed because they put too much trust on the power of society and collective wisdom to make things right. Such misplaces faith in a human system – be it in guardian-dictators, impractical academics, out-of-touch bureaucrats, impersonal computers, idealistic activists or self-righteous theocrats – usually leads to over-regulation and the implementation of a well-intended but crushing conformity over the lives of the people. Sadly, such “utopian” communes can last for decades before follwers admit they were in the wrong to believe in the first place. The Emperor’s New Clothes is a child’s tale with an adult lesson: sometimes our desperation to believe that we can create something beautiful and superior causes us to willingly blind ourselves to the naked, ugly truth.

What all of us need is a healthy does of credible utopianism or grounded idealism if you will, and not one based on glib oratory or vague platitudes. And that comes only with genuine humility. the ability to constantly know how imperfect you are, to not think of yourself more highly than you ought, to thus love our neighbours as we love ourselves – is what makes idealism tender, truthful and ultimately, actually workable.

But if humility is the answer to making utopias happen, how do we remind ourselves to constantly stay that way? It is second nature for us to think highly of ourselves and think of our own needs and our own goodness first. Though secularists may cringe, that is precisely where the Abrahamic faiths’ concept of perfection rings most true. We can only stay humble when we have before our minds and hearts, all the time, a standard infinitely higher, far nobler and far more powerful than ourselves. By establishing this standard in the form of an impossibly holy and powerful God, the faithful believe we would be awed into making much less of our puny human selves and our efforts. For if it is by grace that we are saved, through faith and not by our works, none of us would be able to boast. However, since not all of us profess to such faith, the struggle to make sense of our utopian ambitions will continue.

So the imperfect cannot create the perfect. But they can certainly put their faith in a perfect Something that can. Be it divine being or abstract force, the ultimate test is whether it proves both good enough to do the perfecting work and powerful enough to enable the imperfect to be part of that work. Then and only then, would we begin to be actually ready – in heart and in hand – to do whatever it takes to help usher in that one ultimate utopia that will put to shame all other pretenders forevermore.

- Extracted from Broader Perspectives, Issue 8 (09/2008), Feature Article “Heaven is (Not) a Place on Earth”.

October 26, 2009

When I have Fears that Cease to be

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain,
Before high – piled books, in charact’ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain;
When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And feel that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink

- J. Keats

October 16, 2009

Math, Logic, Math

‘Manners are not taught in lessons,’ said Alice. ‘Lessons teach you to do sums, and things of that sort.’

‘Can you do Addition?’ the White Queen asked. ‘What’s one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Alice. ‘I lost count.’

‘She can’t do Addition,’ the Red Queen interrupted. ‘Can you do Subtraction? Take nine from eight.’

‘Nine from eight I can’t, you know,’ Alice replied very readily: ‘but –’

‘She can’t do Subtraction,’ said the White Queen. ‘Can you do Division? Divide a loaf by a knife — what’s the answer to that?’

‘I suppose –’ Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen answered for her. ‘Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction sum. Take a bone from a dog: what remains?’

Alice considered. ‘The bone wouldn’t remain, of course, if I took it — and the dog wouldn’t remain; it would come to bite me — and I’m sure I shouldn’t remain!’

‘Then you think nothing would remain?’ said the Red Queen.

‘I think that’s the answer.’

‘Wrong, as usual,’ said the Red Queen: ‘the dog’s temper would remain.’

‘But I don’t see how –’

‘Why, look here!’ the Red Queen cried: ‘The dog would lose its temper, wouldn’t it!’

‘Perhaps it would,’ Alice replied cautiously.

‘Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!’ the Queen exclaimed triumphantly.

Alice said, as gravely as she could, ‘They might go different ways.’ But she couldn’t help thinking ot herself, ‘What dreadful nonsense we are talking!’

‘She can’t do sums a bit!‘ the Queens said together, with great emphasis.

- Lewis Carroll’s Through The Looking Glass, pg 300-302

‘Manners are not taught in lessons,’ said Alice. ‘Lessons teach you to do sums, and things of that sort.’

‘Can you do Addition?’ the White Queen asked. ‘What’s one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one and one?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Alice. ‘I lost count.’

‘She can’t do Addition,’ the Red Queen interrupted. ‘Can you do Subtraction? Take nine from eight.’

‘Nine from eight I can’t, you know,’ Alice replied very readily: ‘but –’

‘She can’t do Subtraction,’ said the White Queen. ‘Can you do Division? Divide a loaf by a knife — what’s the answer to that?’

‘I suppose –’ Alice was beginning, but the Red Queen answered for her. ‘Bread-and-butter, of course. Try another Subtraction sum. Take a bone from a dog: what remains?’

Alice considered. ‘The bone wouldn’t remain, of course, if I took it — and the dog wouldn’t remain; it would come to bite me — and I’m sure I shouldn’t remain!’

‘Then you think nothing would remain?’ said the Red Queen.

‘I think that’s the answer.’

‘Wrong, as usual,’ said the Red Queen: ‘the dog’s temper would remain.’

‘But I don’t see how –’

‘Why, look here!’ the Red Queen cried: ‘The dog would lose its temper, wouldn’t it!’

‘Perhaps it would,’ Alice replied cautiously.

‘Then if the dog went away, its temper would remain!’ the Queen exclaimed triumphantly.

Alice said, as gravely as she could, ‘They might go different ways.’ But she couldn’t help thinking ot herself, ‘What dreadful nonsense we are talking!’

‘She can’t do sums a bit!‘ the Queens said together, with great emphasis.

October 16, 2009

Bluebird

Bluebirds don’t sing in sickness
Their voices crack through hardened air—
The harshest air;
It’s on its own.
Birds don’t whisper through the stillness,
Nor fight the tides of sea.
They watch and wait;
“When will someone
Come for me?”
Come for me, through hardened air—
Call for me, though cracks can scare.
Make my day from wisdom
And not from dark
Despair.

polaroid_9_by_lipsbitten

October 15, 2009

기도문

매일 우리가 하는 말은
역겨운 냄새가 아닌
향기로운 말로
향기로운 여운을 남게 하소서.

우리의 모든 말들이
이웃의 가슴에 꽂히는
기쁨의 꽃이 되고
평화의 노래가 되어
세상이 조금씩 더 밝아지게 하소서.

누구에게도 도움이 될 리 없는
험담과 헛된 소문을 실어 나르지 않는
깨끗한 마음으로
깨끗한 말을 하게 하소서.

나보다 먼저
상대방의 입장을 헤아리는
사랑의 마음으로
사랑의 말을 하게 하시고
남의 나쁜 점보다는
좋은 점을 먼저 보는
긍정적인 마음으로
긍정적인 말을 하게 하소서.

매일 정성껏 물을 주어
한 포기의 난초를 가꾸듯
침묵과 기도의 샘에서 길어 올린
지혜의 맑은 물로
우리의 말씨를 가다듬게 하소서.

겸손의 그윽한 향기
그 안에 스며들게 하소서.

October 14, 2009

Diamond

I think that if there’s ever a prominent part of my teenage life that I will remember 10 years down the road, it’d be how debt-laden it is, and perhaps the financial insufficiency that I experience, as have those around me.

But I’d have to say my debts were mostly self-brought upon. I could have just had my life like any other teenager, and spend my teenage years away shopping, going for movies and food, but I chose not to. I chose to invest all those money in music instead, leaving me almost constantly having not even a dollar left in my wallet.

And it is all worthwhile.

However, that being said, I cannot help but feel utterly helpless over my family’s financial situation. You know, today, because I owed my teacher tuition fees for about a week, I had to approach my father for money so that I could pay him. He gave me his card, and asked me to draw.

I drew, and subsequently, I could not help but feel an overwhelming guilt and indebtedness. After drawing just $130 from his account, what I saw was just $10.51 left in his ledger balance. It overwhelmed me on how crippled I felt, and how helpless I am to the family’s financial situation, yet I cannot do anything to help for I am still a student schooling, and also in a mountain of financial burdens myself.

Just before I paid my tutor, I had given my allowances all away for my theory lesson, and was contemplating on the fees I have to pay per month from now on, as well as where am I going to find the money to pay for my theory exams due end November. Yet I must never stop fighting, or else all my efforts will go to waste, because this is my dream I’m talking about and unless I push through, I’d never reach my dreams.

Because exams are over, I haven’t been getting steady sums of allowances. I used to get $60/week for school, totalling to about $240 a month. My theory fees are $60/month while my saxophone practical costs about $120/month. Therefore, it totalled up to $180/month. My theory exam fee is $134, and that now I am not getting any allowances, I am truly struggling to find a way to pay off that fee. Furthermore, piano lessons are starting next week and it’s going to go on for an additional $200/month, which is clearly not within my means but I am helpless but if I don’t progress in piano now, it’d be too late. Perhaps I can compromise to have only 2 piano lessons a month, totally to $100, but still it’d clearly be over the budget of $240/month (including saxophone and theory). I can do nothing much now but pray, and perhaps be searching for jobs. I do not know where can I find opportunities, because I am only 17 and still schooling under an A-level curriculum, so it’d be hard to get a decent job opportunity – because I still have CCA, and also studies to consider.

When I see my mother having to work so hard, yet having to face oppression by my father and still support the family financially, it pains me thoroughly to see that I am not of much help. It embarasses me as well, that I have to borrow money from my sister several times, because I could not pay off my debts.

Yet my debts, as I said earlier, were the result of my fervour for my dreams. But to put it bluntly, selfish, ardent pursuit for what I feel is important to me. Nevertheless, if I ever want anything to work for me, it is this passion that I must keep alive.

What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, that like a diamond, I have to be cultivated thoroughly under pressure before I can ever be formed.

I can go through this, I know I can – I have to, because the best is yet to be. This is about my life, and no one else but God and I shall shape it.

October 3, 2009

You are not alone

Everytime you cry, it is a part of your soul you’re releasing.

The painful memories, the joyous moments of life. It is these tears that unite us all together, together with the earth, together with the rest of us humans. Because they eventually evaporate as our hearts move on, and they join the tears of the other billions of people around the world as clouds that travel across this sky that unites us all.

That those clouds are a result of our tears and possibly those from half the world away from us. A mother crying for the death of her child, or a student who’s achieved his degree after sacrificing his life for this education, the tears from these people may be together with ours in a single cloud.

We are not alone, that while we live in many worlds, we share the same sky, and our pain and joy share the same clouds.

You are not alone.

October 1, 2009

Cycle

It is intriguing, what absence does to one’s emotional memory.

After dinner, a while ago, I met my former band mates as well as my former band instructor. I remembered my dissidence during that time, in the band, and the memories that were concocted in this cauldron of rather mixed-up potion. There were bad ones, really nasty ones. And then there were those very comforting and even poignant ones. Come to think of it, despite my former impressions on the band, and perhaps a slight disagreement with the band ideology at times(which is present in every single band, it’s a musician thing), I have to say I did enjoy myself, and maybe it’s too late but I appreciated my instructor a lot.

He has invested much effort and time into this band, and after very trying times actually propelled the band forward. Yes, of course I do have some disagreements with his methods, but so do all musicians. Two of the strongest bands in Singapore has conductors whose ideas were totally antithesises of each other, and yet their bands speak for their professionalism. All in all, I really respect this former conductor of mine a lot. His efforts, and unwavering dedication and determination – it’s inspiring. JH, thank you for all your efforts. I may have been one of those students etched in your mind with much disdain, but I am thoroughly appreciative of everything you’ve done, despite not having shown, or expressed it. I thank you a lot, really, and verging on audacity, I wished I could’ve spent more time with you. That’s right, I was envious of the other members who were closer to you. I wished I could communicate more with you, and perhaps, I might not have been so thoroughly misunderstood by the eyes of this band. The picture that I was painted by other people, and the efforts that I’ve silently invested, sometimes not appreciated – they don’t matter anymore. Because I had my significant moments in that band, and I regret not a single moment. Thank you, JH, thank you very much.

Talking about the past experiences in band, I’d have to say that much of my dissent was due to the political play, and the underhandedness of certain people, as well as the superficiality and pretentiousness that flooded it all. As much as I felt the need to sensitise my identity in band, and clear the misunderstandings while making my ideas clear, I realised there were too much that shrouded the truths, and it was all a stage which I felt I did not want to belong. I gave up on trying to get my intentions across, because most of them, if not all were distorted and distorted into a backfiring projectile.

There were backstabbing which were, ouch, so painful. And musical ideas, and sharing that I ceased to be able to share, due to everything that was going on. The depth of which I was misunderstood, it is regrettable, but it taught me that you can’t force music on deaf ears. Ears that were open only to status and glory, ears that were made for maliciously warping the words you hear from others. Better, the tongue, not for making music, but for slicing the hearts of many, and vanquishing thoughts of others for your limelight to be enforced upon yourself. That was the kind of characters that happened to strip me off of any remnants of dignity I had left in somewhere where I invested much of my secondary school life into. To which all came to naught, like Ouroboros, nature is cyclical, when tainted by men, it ultimately brings them long-term distraught, as Hardy implied in Tess of the D’Urbervilles.

Still, I’d let JH know the amount of love I realized I have for him, the band, and the juniors if I can ever have the chance to. Because even if you had all the glory in the world, without these people who created this glory, you’d still amount to nothing – status is a responsibility, not a privilege. Therefore, JH, thank you very much, you and other people, you all made my life in band much more bearable, despite all the hurt. I may still look to you like the traitor, and the outcast, the bad student – but I pray for you to one day see the depth of misunderstanding I was submerged into.

<3

September 30, 2009

UFUJ…

I miss Lola, I really do, badly.

She was my first friend in that place.
She was the first person I can completely talk  to as who I am.
She was the first person that understood my thoughts.
She was the first few people that is actually able to talk to me without talking.
She was the first girl whose house I stayed over at.
She was the first girl who I can expect a hug from anytime I want.
She was the first person I can truly call a best friend.
She was the first person I took totally for granted, for my own selfish reasons.
She was the first person I realized I can’t live without.

She’s the last person I’d want to leave from, the one I wish I can still call…
Best Friend.

Lola, I pray hard that you’d ever see this, though I know it’s almost futile cause you probably don’t know the existence of this blog, or even bother reading it.

I miss being able to laugh, and actually survive HBW. I miss you :(

Best friend, when can I call you best friend again?

actually, it feels really horrible to secretly cry sometimes, because I’m all alone again.

September 29, 2009

My Love Will Get You Home

If you wander off too far, my love will get you home.
If you follow the wrong star, my love will get you home.
If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone,
get back on your feet and think of me,
My love will get you home.
Boy, my love will get you home.

If the bright lights blind your eyes, my love will get you home.
If your troubles break your stride, my love will get you home.
If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone,
get back on your feet and think of me,
My love will get you home.
Boy, my love will get you home.

If you ever feel ashamed, my love will get you home.
When it’s only you to blame, my love will get you home.
If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone,
get back on your feet and think of me,
My love will get you home.
Boy, my love will get you home.

If you ever find yourself, lost and all alone,
get back on your feet and think of me,
My love will get you home.
Boy, my love will get you home.
Boy, my love will get you home.