The Rhythm is going to get you? (WIP)

Feb 12th. I awake to strains of Gloria Estefan's "...O eh, o eh, o eh, oo aah "

"Hmm.. perky." I smiled to myself and snuggled further under the sheets, expecting the familiar tune to pick me up from the lingering fuzziness of a strange dream involving the 'ex'. As I closed my eyes and hummed along, a strange thing happened...
"At night when you turn off all the lights,
There's no place that you can hide
Oh no, the rhythm is gonna get'cha "

the words leapt out at me...
"In bed, throw the covers on your head
You pretend like you are dead
But I know it "

and remnants of my dream leach into my conciousness...
"The rhythm is gonna get'cha
No way, you can fight it every day
But no matter what you say
You know it
The rhythm is gonna get'cha
No clue, of what's happening to you
And before this night is through
Ooh baby, The rhythm is gon.."

I wince and leap for the dial.

By now I am fully awake. The realisation that such an upbeat catchy tune disguised such lame and twisted lyrics, both shocked and amused me. Of the zillion times I have heard this song played over the air, I have never 'heard' the lyrics, save of course for the unforgettable chorus.

In the hours to come, there was an incursion of Gloria Estefan songs on the airwaves of three radio stations in three different countries; a Brisbane station in Au, BBC radio 2 in UK and Class 95 in Sg. The radio is an evil, evil machine. Come February, radio stations all over the world conspire to prey on the suppressed memories of those feeling a tad fragile. My best friend in the mornings, suddenly tranforms into an insidious contraption belting out mini missiles that lock onto the intended target; relentless and single-minded in pursuit. They seek you out wherever you are, whatever you are doing. There is nowhere to hide. Intuitively they hit where its most tender; vulnerable spaces you had not even discovered nor expected. And slowly each penetrates, blow by blow, line by line - the words register and conjure.

Lyrics that I have been oblivious to all this while, drown out the familiar tune, "...I realize you're seein' someone new..."; like an intrusive narration, living in my head, "...I've finally found, The courage to stand my ground." I can hear every word, "...I don't wanna lose you now ", replay every poignant moment, "...But if you want me I'll be around, forever...". Pure evil.

I resolve to TAO my way out of this. Its all in the mind. As I attempt to tame it, more questions roll in my head. Why am I having all these thoughts? Why are my sense suddenly heightened? How did Gloria Estefan read my mind? etc...

Eventually, the words of a good friend parted the tumult. When all others tried to encourage me by reminding me that time will heal etc, she merely said "but it happens to everybody, and they learn to get over it." Soon more voices flood my head, I begin to recall snippets of conversations with friends, my head is abuzz with TAO.

The lyricist are not evil telepathics, they are human. The lyrics exist because someone understands the myriad of human emotions, fears, regrets. They have either experienced it or empathise with the complex quandaries faced; of bitter sweet hope, strength and weakness. Of pain and love, of deprivation and excessiveness, of strength and weakness, thesis and anti-thesis.

I am perhaps experiencing Synthesis, the awareness of the existence of both. A culmination of my mind and body becoming aware to what has happened and attuning itself to accept, actively. There must be a reason why my senses are heightened, in this time and place. (Yes, even to pop culture and has-beens like gloria estefan). It is the mystery of culture and the delicacy of living; a human existence. A tangible echoing existence. "It happens to everyone" - enjoy the rhythm of life; Layer upon layer of human flavour. Let not the words get in the way.

Words Get In The Way
(Gloria Estefan)
I realize you're seein' someone new, I don't believe she knows you like I do
Your temperamental moody side, the one you always try to hide from me
But I know when you have something on your mind
You've been tryin' to tell me for the longest time
And before you break my heart in two
There's something I've been trying to say to you

Chorus:
But the words get in the way, there's so much I want to say
But it's locked deep inside, and if you look in my eyes
We might fall in love again
Won't even start to cry, and before we say goodbye
I tried(try) to say I love you, but the words got(get) in the way

Your heart has always been an open door
But baby I don't even know you anymore
And despite the fact it's hurting me, I know the time has come to set you free


Don't Wanna Lose You
(Gloria Estefan)
Sometimes it's hard to make things clear
Or know when to face the truth
And I know that the moment is here
I'll open my heart and show you inside
My love has no pride
I feel with you I've got nothing to hide
So open your eyes and see who I am
And not who you want for me to be
I am only myself, myself
I don't wanna lose you now
We're gonna get through somehow
I don't wanna lose you now or ever
'Cause baby I've finally found
The courage to stand my ground
But if you want me
I'll be around, forever
We all make mistakes, we all lose our way
But we stood the test of time and I hope
That's the way it will stay
It's all up to you, to tell me to go
'Cause it won't be me to walk away
When you're all that I know
And I know that
I don't wanna lose you now
We're gonna get through somehow
I don't wanna lose you now or ever
'Cause baby I've finally found
The courage to stand my ground
But if you want me
I'll be around, forever

The StoneCutter

My friend J. says "I never knew Chinese Philosophers were so intellectual and I am enlightened reading the book (The Tao of Pooh)".

An excerpt from 'The Tao of Pooh', contributed by J.
There was once a stonecutter, who was dissastified with himself and with his position in life.One day, he passed a wealthy merchant's house, and through the open gateway, saw many fine possessions and important visitors. "How powerful that merchant must be!" thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then hewould no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.

To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested bythose less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. "How powerful that official is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a high official!"

Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day,and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by hispresence. "How powerful the sun is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be the sun!"

Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the famers and labourers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. "how powerful that storm cloud is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a cloud!"

Then he became the cloud, flooding fields and villages, shouted at byeveryone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realised that it was the wind. "How powerful it is!"he thought. "I wish that I could be the wind!"

Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses,uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against the huge, towering stone. "How powerful that stone is!" he thought. "I wish that I could be a stone!"

Then he became the stone, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock, and felt himself being changed. "What could be more powerful than I, the stone?" he thought. He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.

Change Upon Change

Change Upon Change
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Five months ago the stream did flow,
The lilies bloomed within the sedge,
And we were lingering to and fro,
Where none will track thee in this snow,
Along the stream, beside the hedge.
Ah, Sweet, be free to love and go!
For if I do not hear thy foot,
The frozen river is as mute,
The flowers have dried down to the root:
And why, since these be changed since May,
Shouldst thou change less than they.

And slow, slow as the winter snow
The tears have drifted to mine eyes;
And my poor cheeks, five months ago
Set blushing at thy praises so,
Put paleness on for a disguise.
Ah, Sweet, be free to praise and go!
For if my face is turned too pale,
It was thine oath that first did fail, -
It was thy love proved false and frail, -
And why, since these be changed now,
Should I change less than thou.

sudah Sayang...

Friends who don't understand malay ask me "what is sudah sayang", friends who do, ask me "why sudah sayang"? I shall answer both.

WHAT?
Sudah and Sayang are both Malay words that take on subtle differences in meaning depending on context. So sudah sayang can take on any permutation of the meanings stated below.

sudah = enough, already, enough already, it's finished, by now, forget it.
sayang = dear, darling, love

WHY?

This Blog is a/an: ego trip, cartharsis, delusion, closure, experiment, temptation, distraction, new toy, gentle chiding, marcotting...

Sudah sayang

My love,

enough already.
stop the torture, spare me the lies.
the uncertainty must cease;
Now.
My darling,
enough already...

Sudah sayang

My self,
its finished.
forget it.
enough, my dear
you have tortured yourself
enough, already...

My dear...
Time to heal.

enough already.

Let it go,
sudah, sayang...

I Am

(unknown)
I was regretting the past and fearing the future.
suddenly my Lord was speaking.
My name is I Am
He paused and I waited. He continued...

When you live in the past
with its mistakes and regrets
it's hard, cos I am not there
my name is not 'I Was'

When you live in the future,
with its problems and fears,
its hard, i am not there,
for my name is not 'I Will Be'

When you live in this moment,
it's not hard,
for I am here.
my name is 'I AM'
A friend sent this to me via msn. Thank you friend :)

To feel guilty is to live in the past; to dwell on our guilty feelings over things that are our fault, or even over things that aren't our fault, but we fear might be. Soon guilt upon guilt piles up to become a burden that is literally unbearable. No amount of consoling and rationalising from the people around you can rid you of the profound sense of guilt inside. Then the realisation hits... only God's forgiveness can release us from penalty of our past and fears.

Carrots, Eggs and Coffee

one of those emails that percolate...

A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed asone problem was solved, a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placedground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil, without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrotsout and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in abowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me, what do you see?""Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied.

Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft.The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.

Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted itsrich aroma.The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?"

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity... boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in theboilingwater, they had changed the water. "Which are you?" she asked her daughter."When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot,an egg or a coffee bean?"

Think of this: Which am I?Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiffspirit and hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance andflavor.If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get betterandchange the situation around you.When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest, do you elevateyourself to another level?How do you handle adversity?

Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make youstrong, enough sorrow to keep you human and enough hope to make you happy.The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; theyjust make the most of everything that comes along their way. The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can't go forward inlife until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

Seeking God

Do I seek God for what He can do for me?
OR
Do I seek God for who He is?

I suspect it is very much the former...

Were All The Stars To Die

Byron Bay
panoramic nothingness
atop a hill
beside a lighthouse
on Byron Bay

the waves crash
all around
lick the saltiness off your lips
inhale the winds that assault your face

dream
atop a hill
of a sky that blankets
your being

diamonds in the sky
twinkling trickery romancing the mind
burying me under
its endless, divine

my hands appear
as the lighthouse sweeps dutifully
across the studded sky
I grasp at the moment

A jewel of a moment
a mere mortal
atop a hill
on Byron Bay

Lying on car, atop a hill with the lighthouse on Byron Bay is an exhilarating experience day or night. But the night is especially magical. The memory of the experience staring into the vast stellar display haunts me... If you stare into the sky long enough, it will come falling down on you and envelopes you, totally. Excellent optical illusion that gave me pleasurable goosebumps. (Wld greatly appreciate if someone explain why/how this optical effect occurs)

What if all the stars were to disappear? I certainly hope that would not happen in my lifetime. The 'ex' was but one star, albiet one bright shining star. But the winds will blow and the clouds will reveal nestlings of petite lumiere that capture the night.

I will leave you with the words of Auden. I remain an idealist and a romantic

The More Loving One
W. H. Auden

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

Missing

Perhaps the most difficult adjustment one has to make post break-up is that of missing someone.

What do I 'miss' exactly? I asked myself that question, in an attempt to understand my emotions. I must be crazy to miss that one person who has hurt me so completely with his infidelity. But I do not feel removed from reality; so perhaps a more appropriate question would be 'why' do I miss?

what better way to explore the human condition than to explore the boundaries of our reality -
the dictionary - bible of the human experience

miss ( P ) Pronunciation Key (ms)
v.
missed, miss·ing, miss·es v. tr.
To fail to hit, reach, catch, meet, or otherwise make contact with.
To fail to perceive, understand, or experience: completely missed the point of the film.
To fail to accomplish, achieve, or attain (a goal).
To fail to attend or perform: never missed a day of work.
To leave out; omit.
To let go by; let slip: miss a chance.
To escape or avoid: narrowly missed crashing into the tree.
To discover the absence or loss of: I missed my book after getting off the bus.
To feel the lack or loss of: Do you miss your family?
v. intr.
To fail to hit or otherwise make contact with something: fired the final shot and missed again.
To be unsuccessful; fail.
miss out on
To lose a chance for: missed out on the promotion. (excerpts from Dictionary.com )

One month after the truth was made known to me
one month after the sensory cacophony
one month after feeling spurned
one month after dying
I do not miss him spectrally anymore

There is no longer the brutal pain numbing pain that infects every cell in my body, compounded by the acute jolt of phantom flesh lacerated from the soul. Memories of him no longer render me immobile nor engulf me.

I miss him. I miss him as a person and friend. Do you not sometimes think about people who have crossed your path though fleetingly?
I miss him as a confidante. I have to admit and accept the sense of loss, the 'death' of someone who was of intricate importance to my life.
I miss him as a partner in crime. Naked honesty, mortal impressions.

I am glad that I miss,
for if I did not, I had not loved
and if I had not loved,
I had not lived.