FaiRGrOUnD

I like the Merry-Go-Round.

I like it when the Merry-Go-Round brings me round and round.

I like to take the Merry-Go-Round in the day.

Round and round, in the day, I ride gallantly atop my black mare, I smell the sweet of the cotton candy, I hear the laughter of my fellow riders.

I like the Ferries Wheel.

I like it when the Ferris Wheel brings me right to the top.

I like to take the Ferris Wheel at night.

At the top, in the night, I feel the stars in my hair, I see the world sprawled out before me, I taste the bitter of the dark.

Hello, is anyone there?

mR. sAd & Mr. HapPy

Mr. Sad went to stay with Mr. Happy for a week.

Mr. Happy shared all his jokes and funny movies with Mr. Sad. Mr. Sad tried really hard to force his face to smile.

Mr. Sad brooded and sulked in front of Mr. Happy. Mr. Happy tried really hard to turn his smile into a frown.

After one week. Mr. Sad felt happier for having smiled. Mr. Happy felt sad for having frowned.

Did you know Evian is naive spelt backwards?

fAcES anD pLAcEs

Everyday, we put on faces and go places.

It’s so tempting to slip into a persona vastly different from your soul.

And maybe that’s why we admire actors. It’s not them so much but the ease with which they can change from one character to another, without qualms or responsibilities owing to anyone else.

For everyday we are actors ourselves.

But in our lives, there is a continuity we must answer to. Not like actors whose person ends as the filming ends. Our lives go on.

What we did yesterday and the day before has become history, a necessity caught in a frozen slice of time.

We don’t start with clean slates every day. We go round carrying our past behind us like backpacks on our souls.

Perhaps one day, we will dare to leave those backpacks behind, that our souls might be free.

cAnDY fLOsS aNd ChOCoLAtE SnoWdRoPs

Sugary sweet things make me happy and give me a high.
I love to know that I can fly.
Soaring over the star-encrusted sky.
No one to bother me or ask me why.

Life need not have been so bad.
Life should not have been so sad.
Especially for you, my friend.
The darkness and the hurt, they will end.

So hang in there, don't break the glass.
For this, too, shall pass.

TimE

Time, it moves so slowly when you have nothing to do.

Time, it moves so quickly when you have too much to do.

Time, in an instant it changes. Sometimes forever.

Time, it changes you. Always.

Time, I am lost in it.

Time, shattered.

She said not everything you do has to be mindful. Do not belittle the mundane things in your life.

bEiNG aLoNe

Uninspired, she stared out of the window, looking into the world, seeing nothing. For days now, her life has felt empty. Hollowed out like a Jack-O-Lantern pumpkin. And the emptiness left her feeling weary. A kind of tiredness and exhaustion that doggedly gnawed at her being.

She longed so much for rest, for the sweet sweet slumber of death, where she could just sleep forever and not have to wake up.

Her friends are all leaving her one by one. The prospect of loneliness loomed huge and heavy over her heart. Yet she knows deep inside, that she will survive this again. To meet, and then to part. To part, and then to meet. The cycle of life.

For one can learn to be alone without being lonely.

tHiS THiNg...

... It is like learning a new language.

A new culture.

A new way of naming things.

Being initiated into a new community.

Seeing a whole world alive where you had only imagined them in the back of your mind before.

And just knowing that everyone shares a similar-enough story to yours makes you feel comfortable, and safe.

For a long while now, I think I've figured out what I want in life. I want to feel safe.

I just want to feel safe.

FoLLoW yOuR hEArT

Sometimes your heart feels very heavy, and it overflows.
Sometimes your head feels very heavy, and you just want to keep your eyes closed.
Sometimes your life feels very heavy, and you don't know how to go on.

Ms. M and Mr. D have been having a cold war for 2 weeks now, and it has left me very tired. Bone-weary exhausted. While talking to the one, I feel bad for ignoring the other. While having a meal with the other, I feel bad for leaving the other out. And bringing them together takes too much out of me.

While the exuberance of Ms. M excites me, her high-octane energy levels leave me drained quickly. Although the mysterious Mr. M makes me pensive, his brooding presence can be a welcomed comfort at times.

So sometimes, you just have to follow your heart, for your heart knows best.

viCiOUs cYcLeS

Cycles are vicious, whichever way you look at them.

First, you feel bad.

Then, you feel bad about feeling bad.

And then, you feel even worse for feeling bad about feeling bad.

And it all spirals downwards into an eternal blackhole.

But maybe you don't have to bash yourself up over it. Maybe it is OK to just feel bad.

Think about it this way: Life sucks, and then you die. Imagine: Life sucks, and then you don't die.

So go give yourself that much needed break. Let your hair down, swing your arms high up in the air, laugh like your stomach is going to fall out, take a moment to revel in the miracle of your life.

Go ahead. Feel bad. It's OK, you know.

aNoTheR dEliRiuM mOmEnt

(this is a leaf)

fiGHtiNg mY BaTtLeS

I did not choose this life
So do not pick which battle I have to fight
You do your best to make sure I strive
But do you really understand my plight

Because I may want to give up
For I am unable to go on
I would like to ask God to let pass this cup
But too much too late too far gone

What happened is not your wrongdoing
Neither is it mine
Life happens and you get going
Sometimes I wonder if it has all been pre-designed

Like a big game
Without an aim
That wounds and lames
Makes death its claim

So let me choose my battles
Let me pick my fights
See the falling flower petals
And dim the waning lights

fRaGiLE ThInGs

"You've lost weight."

"You look sick. Have you been to see a doctor?"

"Doctor, I've been feeling weak for some time."

"I think I'm going to need to run some tests on you quite immediately."

"I'm sorry, but it's going to go downhill from here... I'll say probably 6 months and that's it."

Do I fight or do I give in?

"Daddy you'll be ok. Let me put another cold towel on your forehead to make the fever go away."

"Daddy don't cry. We're all here with you."

I want to be out of this nightmare.

The fragility of goodness. The fragility of life.

hUmPTy DuMpTy

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
All the kings’ horses and all the kings’ men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again

I don't know if you've ever had this feeling. But sometimes, my day feels very wobbly. Like it's going to all come crashing down any minute. And I have to lie down for a long while for the wobbly feeling to go away. To sleep, to hide, to wait for the passover.

I pray for it sometimes. But let's just press on for now, ok.

I wonder whatever happened to Humpty Dumpty?

tHe ThREe oF Us

We talk without fail everyday
So much so much we have to say
From moonlight to the sun’s first ray

We tell secrets no one knows
Shared memories marking time’s ebb and flow
So close that together we form a single shadow

Our friendship goes far far back
Beyond the hills and the abandoned shack
We stand together fighting anyone else’s attacks

Let me introduce you
To you
So now you know you

Come join us when you are free
That would make us three
You, my imaginary friend, and me

jUSt pONdEriNg

I used to think that a person's overall character and demeanour spoke volumes, much more than their dressing or hairstyle.

Then when I started working I began to think that clothes maketh the person. I mean, nothing beats presenting to an auditorium filled with people in your most powerful power suit.

And later it came to me that it was shoes that maketh the man. Imagine the sense of awe that you draw click-clacking down the hallway in your razor-pin sharp stilettos, not to mention the heads that you could turn with your sashaying walk.

Much later it became the bags that complemented your outfit. A black, a brown and a white are the must-haves. Reds are good for making a strong statement on those days you want to make your clients sit up.

Over the years I have become such a vainpot. Now I have clothes in every colour and style, and a galore of bags and shoes to match. And don't even start me on the earrings and the necklaces and the rings and the hair accessories.

Does materialism creep up on you unawares, or do we allow ourselves to be sucked into the commercialism all around us?

bRokEN pIEcEs

Every so often, in our journey through life, we encounter death. Family of friends, friends of family, family members. And no matter how close or how far you are to that person, there is always this heart-dropping moment when you know someone has died.

TWY and I once had a discussion on death. She told me there are various categories of death. One is dying slowly from an illness. This way, the family has time to prepare themselves and grieve adequately. Another is dying suddenly from an accident. This leaves the family with little choice but to grit their teeth and get on with life. And then there is dying from suicide. And families and friends never know how to grieve or recover from this grief, because it always feels like it could have been prevented.

But can you really prevent someone from dying? Is the grief for those who died or those who are still alive?

It is always difficult to be the one left behind to pick up the broken pieces. But if you don't, the people behind you will never be able to move on and pick up their own broken pieces.

LaDYbiRd

Long time ago, in another life, a ladybird lay basking in the sun. Her shiny red coat set off the black polka-dots beautifully. And she looked so serene, like a lady-in-waiting.

I think ladybirds are such perfectly balanced creatures. I love the blood red of their wings, the deep ebony of the polka-dots, the symmetry of their bodies, dancing the dance of life.

I held a ladybird in my hand the other day, and I dream, one day when I own a Volkswagon Beetle, I'm gonna paint it just like a ladybird. And I would be very happy driving around in my ladybird lookalike car.

Perhaps it is because I grew up reading Peter and Jane stories from Ladybird. That's why the ladybird fascinates me.

So long time ago, in another life, I held a Ladybird in my hand, and it taught me to see the world.

tHe CoLoUR bRoWn

Brown reminds me of hot chocolate, dark wood, and hash browns.

Brown reminds me of autumn leaves, dried blood, and coffins.

Brown is a sad colour. Some colours make you happy, like yellow and orange. But brown is one of those colours that makes me feel sad. And today feels like a sad day. Today feels like a brown day. Today feels like a brown and sad day where all I want and can do is to crawl into bed and hope to sleep.

Yet I like the colour brown. For it is the colour of nature, the very land we stand on. And I think of all the people who have died and been laid to rest in the ground, under this brown soil. Some of these people, I still mourn.

The colour brown, it makes me sad. I wonder if there is a colour that makes you feel sad too?

fEAr

"Y'see, fear is like a big ol' animal ... I seen it blend with the scenery and pounce on ya before you knows it was even there! Fear can make it so's you don't even want to know what lies over that next big hill on accounta not wantin' to be ascared again. An' that's bad, if you're a explorer like me.

So you gotta decide! Are you gonna let being afraid keep you from exploring? Or you gonna slap a muzzle on it an' go?

'Course, maybe you all already made your decisions ..."

(by Big Johnson Bone, famous founder of Boneville)

tHe sWoRD of aRiaDnE

Dislocated and dismantled. That is how the inside of my head feels sometimes.

It’s like this complicated maze I often get lost in. And too proud to admit that I need help to find my way out. A willing sacrifice for Minotaur in the Labyrinth.

But in some strange way, this journey of exploration has put me more in touch with my self. And that might not be such a bad thing.

After all, the Minotaur did get killed by Theseus in the end, with Ariadne’s sword.

I want to be Ariadne’s sword, so I can fight those demons possessing the labyrinth of my mind.

sHaDEs oF gReY

I had a sobering week. Where I learnt that not everything is either black or white. That there are many hidden shades in between.

It's not just go or no go, good or bad, yes or no... however much we think that would simplify our lives.

What is joy without sorrow? What is laughing without crying? What is walking without having fallen before?

Like life is a spectrum, full of shades of grey. Mysterious, magical, moving, mighty.

Delicious ambiguity.

LiFe StoRiES

An elderly mother, whose children and grandchildren dote on her, their love wide enough to warm the coldest of hearts.

An abused maid, scared, frightened and lonely. Sleeping her hours away, hoping the monsters will let her go.

An old lady, stricken with pain. Unable to speak, she communicates her agony through her screaming and tears.

A young lady, having her brains fried for thinking too much. Friendless and family-less. Blankly staring at the ceiling while amnesia eats into her brains.

A grouchy old lady, scolding everyone she sees. Nothing anyone does for her is ever right.

Each of us, carrying our own stories... Like the snail carries its house on its back.

Descartes said, "Cogito, ergo sum."

dEliRiuM says, "Narro, ergo sum."

So are we only the stories that we tell, or are we more than the stories that we tell?

mAkiNG sEnSe

It is the dead of the night and it is quiet. Very quiet. And the quietness calms me. It wraps itself around me like a thick woolly cloak of safety. Just the quiet. The quiet and me.

Ms. M came for a joy ride and stayed for a couple of weeks, until Mr. D decided to reclaim his own. I think now they have worked out some sort of a system where Ms. M stomps through the day while Mr. D cowers through the night.

They talk a lot, together and separately. And it confuses me immensely when they do that. And not forgetting my own internal dialogue with myself. So many voices, it is difficult to make sense of them all.

Sense and sensibility. Sense and sensitivity. Sense and serenity. Sense and sensation. Sense and seize. Sense and seduce. Sense and solution. Sense the silver lining.

Sense and non-sense.

i Am Me!

I was given an old soul when I was born. Sometimes it is my blessing and sometimes that is my curse. But this is who I am, so I’m also slowly learning to take the bad with the good.

Admittedly we all carry with us our fair share of emotional scars. All of us, spoken out loud or hidden inside. I don’t know how deep those scars go, but I know we are all wounded,

Is it anyone’s fault? I think not. Because, in the end, I don’t think it is about finding faults. I think it is more about learning, learning who we are and what we can be, despite our own brokenness. And sometimes, just knowing that you know about it is more than enough.

I was only 7 when I had to grow up, when I wanted to grow up. And it is because I grew up when I was only 7 that I am me now.

And I don’t want to turn the clock back, because none of us should have any regrets for being who we are today.

bEiNg mE

The sun burns me.
The lightning flashes me.
The thunder bolts me.
The rain cleanses me.
The wind chases me.
The trees talk to me.
The leaves drape over me.

I want to run away.

Please, just let me be me.

LiFe

People always tell you you are unique and special. Maybe to cheer you up. Maybe to make you feel better about yourself. Or maybe to just give your ego a booster shot.

In the recent few days, I've come to realise that actually, we are not that much different from one another. We bleed when we cut ourselves. We cry when we hurt. We laugh when we are told a good joke. We sleep when we are tired.

And life is and can be so fragile. Life is and can be so easily shattered. Life is and can be so readily broken.

You know, when you are old, sick, and lying in a hospital with IV drips in your arms and oxygen tubes in your nose, thinning hair, wrinkled skin, unwashed bodies, and strength enough only to catch your next breath, everyone looks the same. Male or female, the fragility of life paints over everyone with the same stroke.

Yet there is something in the human spirit that endeavours. Find it in you.

hUMiLiTy

Hospitals and airports evoke the same weird emotions in me everytime I visit them. A mixture of apprehension, some curiosity, and this nagging fear at the back of my mind. Like you don't know what to expect.

I'm always reminded of the time during my Grandma's funeral and we wanted to take some photos for remembrance. I didn't quite know whether to smile or to look sad or to just have a blank face. Because it's supposed to be a sad event, but you always say "cheese" when you stand in front of a camera, and the elements just clashed in an awkward mix.

Each situation is filled with so much tension, of joy perhaps, or tears maybe, and always the worrying. I see all these people around me and my heart goes out to them. I see all these people around me and I applaud them. I see all these people around me and I am in awe.

Life humbles me. Death humbles me. And I am humbled by this struggle between living and dying.