where do birds suddenly disappear?

Just a random thought...you know how the early mornings and as the dusk falls flocks of birds throng near the trees and the skies are laced in a swirling mesh of black silhouettes. Clearly there must be a lot of flying feathered friends around, not that I've tried ennumerating them. Yet I've only seen one bird carcass in my entire life. It wasn't a roadkill, meaning it was not squished into a two-dimensional sheet of meat, so I guess it counted. Which brings to me the question, where are all the bird carcasses that I should be seeing in the multitudes, although that would be somewhat like a scene from a horror movie. Do the birds, sensing impending death from old age, travel to some final resting place, far from the gazes of human eyes? It's almost unnerving how they seem to disappear without a trace, nary a feather left behind.

Backlog

Goodness, it's been almost three months and nary a word has been written here. So I'm obliged to leave a mark before the months become years and I forget this blog ever existed. Life is good, for which I am thankful. The usual angsting over my abysmal CAP keeps my emotions in place or I would be feeling a drug induced kind of happiness almost every day. Maybe it's time to sit down and think about what I want for the future, and cement it by acting on the present. It scares me sometimes to think that I'm already halfway or perhaps 2/3s into the "possibly" last leg of my school life. Once again, I rue the passage of time, the thief of always...

My fervor for blogging about every single outing I have attended has long dwindled into cinders. They are more significant, more meaningful when the intimate details of them are not dutifully and precisely recorded, much like the script of a movie. And there is a certain joy coupled with a touch of wistfulness, in recalling snatches of conversation, the many achingly brief moments of levity, that although are not as alive as before, remain humorous yet. Chronicling of the events renders the mind complacent; what need is there to remember when the happenings are safely tucked away, retrieved with a mere click of the mouse.
Thank God for all those incandescent moments of bonhomie, of good-natured (for most part) teasing and jibes, of deep soul-stirring conversations and of companionable silences and glances shared and traded. I love you all.

There is an elusive quality in beautiful writing, (such a paltry word to describe it and a limitation in itself, yet it does give some notion of what I mean), that ineluctably draws the eyes to savor it once again, that pauses the reader to dwell in the sheer vastness of what has been said and not said, that insinuates itself into the recesses of the mind to remain, indelible. Man Booker Prize winners, more often than not boast of such writing I speak of above, and tend to touch on complex themes: the human condition and the rest of the ilk. It is with a twinge of jealousy as I delight in the mastery of these word weavers, prize-winning or no, who transport me into their realm, in which everything is more tangible because it did not happen, but might have.

I'm not all that a determined person. Yesterday, I decided to throw caution to the winds and give up on studying. Not so much letting go of an exercise in futility (basically it means anything you don't get results for, which makes a lot of things) than a temporary banishment of the wretched books. Let the dice of fate, destiny and whatever powers that be govern our puny human lives play it out. Resigning to fate as they put it. And not for the first time, it occurred to me (not your usual blinding realisation, more of the slow, dawning kind that creeps up upon you) that this was but one of the numerous struggles I would have to face in the twisty, tiresome and best of all, uncertain path to Honours. So this act of giving up now could exact a barrage of repercussions on my studies; just when you thought the uphill struggle couldn't get any worse, a rockfall stares you in the face. 1 to Murphy's Law and 0 to you.
What can I do but to grin and bear it, I've made my bed and so must lie in it. Macbeth had the right mindset, even if it stemmed from the inappropriate source, resolute in his wrongdoings to the last. I can at least admire him for that. Doggedly do I forge on for I am in books. Stepped in so far, that, should I wade no more, returning were as tedious as go over.

Mock Trial

Can't ever seem to blog punctually these days, and the delay chips away at the memories and motivation to even get it down here. Alright, Mock Trial! Guess it went pretty well despite the few hiccups (when I was totally baffled by Charmaine's questions), all the more so for her. The lecturer said Charmaine had the best Cross-Examination she had come across so far and I reveled vicariously in that compliment XD. I was relatively impressed with the air of composure and mien of steadfastness Charmaine and the defence lawyer exuded, never mind the occasional chinks under the relentless and piercing questions of the lecturer. Being a witness is incredibly fun; making up lies spontaneously and spouting untruths without any fear of censure adds to it! Perhaps I would make a good lawyer too! (Charmaine would certainly beg to differ on the implications of the two above statements)

Birthday

Well wishes and the expectation of a surprise, which I staved away, rendering the surprise even more palpable. Buffet at Crystal Jade and an iPod and great company of Charmaine, Jo and Kevin Dear. Thanks everyone for the wonderful day =)

NIKE!

This is a belated post and I don't usually bother with belated posts but I had so much fun I think I will make a concession this time. A swirling mass of humanity with that red t-shirt that equalises them all was what greeted the serious runners. Thanks to Nick setting the pace, and Daniel for moral support, I manage to clock an 1 hour and 10 mins =). Not bad for only 4 training sessions XD. We started off as a group initially but as fatigue and self-preservation set in, members began to drop like flies. FInishing the race made all of us so euphoric, a series of jump and candid shots were in order! Lunch at KFC and window shopping with guys, an experience I still find rather eye-opening, ended the lovely outing and prelude to my birthday.

nothing like approval from the teachers to make my day. almost sad how dependent my esteem is on the validation of others.

Burn RUBBAH!

Praise the Lord! Looks like third time's the charm =). I am now licensed to become or cause roadkill XD!

A little piece of heaven

I must take back my misconception of Singapore being a boring place with hardly any scenery. Not that a man-made dam and a reservoir count, but I guess I need to make a concession XD. The sight at Yishun Dam as the "serious runners" strolled the stretch of it during twilight gave me a peculiar sense of peace and rightness with the world. It was quiet and the dying rays of the sun lent the place a sense of serenity. Already, the first smudges of night were beginning to grace the sky and I felt giddy and reckless, as though I could say anything and get away of it.

Norwegian Wood

I like this the best of all. Most of Murakami's books have this themes of alienation, loneliness and insecurity, set in a realities where a man can converse with cats and another goes around clad in sheep-skin. Whimisical it may sound and it often is, yet there are passages in each book which give me a feeling of deja vu as I savour them. Somewhat akin to trying to remember a distant memory; an image flickers into your mind and as you grasp it, it dissolves and leaves you puzzled, uncertain if you even recalled it at all. Much like pondering an utterance without any forethought. I like how Norwegian Wood express the doubts and insecurities in myself I could not quite articulate; the struggles and thoughts of the characters, while not wholely in alignment with mine, strike a chord as there are familiar fragments I can empathise with. There lies a small measure of solace in knowing that I am not the only partaker of fatalistic thoughts, insecurities and doubts.

the human condition

Loads of people, I should like to think, are nice when they're in one of their colorless moods. Yet, the true test of mettle, and the one I've probably flunked miserably, is being nice when you feel nothing more than throttling the person next to you. And before I make a blog post considering Haruki Murakami, I think I shall give him another chance. Do your worse Norwegian Wood!

Muse

At the age of just before 20, I have discovered the pleasures of Rock in the form of my Muse. (It takes a fellow rock dilettante to see the pun in there) The moral of the story must be you're never too late to rock! Angsty, brassy and head-ache inducing when played at a certain number of decibels is what I revel in right now. But as the world has taught you by now, all that is good does not last, not that it helps that the human attention span is so mercifully short, and in time to come, another Muse shall find me. Maybe in the form of Chinese Opera O_o.

On a side note, I find it funny how the SEP co-ordinator says "It is alright if I advised you to stay here in NUS and pull up your CAP?" Phrasing it in such a round-about way doesn't detract from the No. I can handle the truth I think, but maybe not the embarassment. In short, it always helps to expect the worse.

The price of getting what you want is getting what you wanted - Neil Gaiman

I love it when a quote can capture so aptly a situation that you're in, delineating its parameters and context for you. The Eureka Moment dawns upon you like falling rain on the oval of a face as you realise the realisation; 2 + 2 = 4 makes perfect sense as you somehow felt it always did. And you luxuriate in the communal comfort of knowing that someone out there, was, is and will be in the same predicament as you were.

and because i am chasing a dream, i tell myself yes it is alright to be sellfish

I'm falling into the reassuring rhythm of school, tuition, kevin, reading and fencing. There's more to it but in the way of mundane things, nothing much meriting mention. Oh, the joy of wallowing in self-imposed contentment.

Why do I have admiration, tempered with a tinge of envy, those who can articulate their feelings with lucidity on an issue, any issue? For my copious vocabulary bank, do correct me if you think I have overstated my status, remains adumbrated by a quiescent mind. One that accepts things happening all around as they are until they start affecting me on a personal level. Yet what is there to express if you persist unmoved and untouched? There is not such much an abeyance of emotion rather than an absence of it. That is, mayhap the key to an open mind.

The best meet-ups are when the people have not met in a long, long while. There is much to talk about, to laugh about and the silences are all at once, comfortable and companionable because they are understandable. I can safely say I had the most fun outing in a few years on Saturday night with the RJ sabre folks. It wore on till 2 in the morning and yet I didn't want it to end. Laughter was with us throughout and awkward moments, inevitable it seems, were few.

Photopost

A few amateurish shots after fiddling with my new (or not so new) toy - A 4th hand D350. I need to get /f1.8 lenses