I stand before the inanimates,
Ankles soaked, standing by that painting of a lake…
Does anyone else feel this way sometimes? I want to live but, I don’t feel happy.
I’ve always been a bit of a unhappy person, but even more so recently. I enjoy talking to my friends, and I’m numbed by endorphins during exercise, the grunt of and sweet friction of muscles, and also by study; I can satisfied by a sandwich; but sometimes it just feel like life’s a little too empty?
I’m not in one of these moods right now, hence I’m able to write this. I’m quite unsure of a number of things right now…
I’ve been thinking about talking to my school counsellor, but have been constantly flip-flopping on this decision. I’m not sure if my problem is serious enough, since I have gotten these moods in the past too. However, this time, there has also been another event regarding a friend which happened a month ago, which I haven’t gotten over that I’ve been quite upset about. Only a few of my friends know about. I want to get advice on how to get past the incident, but…
I’m unsure about the level of confidentiality my school’s counsellors would keep if I told them everything. They’ve previously said that they would contact the student’s parents if the situation required. What the hell is this benchmark exactly?
I could use aliases for the people involved/ keep the situation as vague as possible of course, but I’m afraid something may slip out if I’m too emotional. The circumstances are also such that it would be quite obvious who the friend is if they ran a background check on the students in my school or simply spoke to my teacher. Both me and my friend would be in quite a bad situation if her identity was found out/ our parents learnt of our situation.
Ever had that feeling that your friends are just day-to-day acquaintances, and not people you can connect to on a deeper level? Should I try talking to my friends about my feelings right now? I feel like I can’t though they’ve been really caring and supportive when I’ve gone through troubles/ had my lows in the past. But this time there’s no clear reason to my discontent/ I’ve been acting as though the event has not affected me at all?
My friends probably don’t even know I’m feeling quite low right now, except one to whom I have mentioned my intention to speak to a counsellor. I can’t open up to my family entirely, though I’ve told my sister quite a bit. Maybe also because I live in an Asian society where we aren’t encouraged to speak much about our feelings? But mainly because of a certain aspect to my troubles I can’t tell them about.
Not that I really understand myself also, which is why my words come out in a mess when I try to explain it. I should probably
- Stop listening to sad songs
- Email one of the counsellors
But certainly, ranting here has given me greater peace of mind…
I’ll get through this, just that my feelings are a bit more irrational and directionless this time.
Is my truth untrue, or is human communication an illusion?
‘Renounce your sins, give up your worldly possessions!’
Is that really possible though? And for the non-religious, what constitutes as worldly, when there is no unworldly?
Without delving into the argument of whether people need religion to guide their morality, lets just go with the assumption that people want to lead lives with some kind of goal or meaning, having achieved something, whether it’s having made a change in the world, or achieving personal satisfaction while still fulfilling your duty to your family, or simply leading a upright, decent life
I don’t like how some behaviour or desires are labeled as ‘base’ because we would be we would be shameful of doing them in public. I think desires are only base if you indulge in them, or let them take control of you.
If you have a greater goal, don’t sacrifice it for a short-term pleasure. The monastery is upon a mountain at the end of the road, don’t keep stopping at little sideway shrines.
Goddamn it, procrastination!
Just some thrown-together notes from today-
“Please stand behind the yellow line…”
iphone 6S adverts above the train platform
Shot a baby and a leaf on iPhone 6S. Also the girl from Orphan (it’s a horror movie).
Reading on the train, someone on wordpress likens ink to pepper on a tablecloth (Do We Write To Fill A Page? by Joel D. Hirst). At the bookshop; The Unbearable Lightness of Being, alone. I sat cross-legged on the floor like a street peddler, devoured three chapters.
Take the stairs instead of escalator. Passing reflective surfaces, I think about this line:
‘… in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body.’ Milan Kundera
Generalization in poetry (isn’t poetry just generalization?)
There isn’t a seat on the train, not for me anyway. A twenty-something with brown curls, denim jacket at her waist. White collars on lunch break, laughing in Teochew and English.
WordPress feed interrupted by message. Aunt discussing the exchange rate with mom (how many dollars is 390 yen?) How’s Japan? Family went cherry blossom viewing in Shinjuku… Blur of tunnel walls, still thinking about that book.
Reality like a knock on the glass pane. Change station…
barely scraped-together response to Day 4 of the
A-to-Z Challenge (sorry, I’ll try harder tomorrow.)
‘Chinese is such a beautiful language’, I exclaim in English。
Speaking Chinese is always a tongue-twister for me. I feel like I’m stringing a Chinese yo-yo with Western skip-rope. Chinese culture is like mandarin oranges, which I receive from relatives with the same wrinkly skin, and I swallow to be polite but do not feast on (the oranges not my relatives..)
Chinese poetry is beautiful though! What I love about Chinese are the various references and double-meanings, squeezed into each character. A phrase of 8 characters can take a paragraph of English to explain.
Chinese also has a bazillion homonyms (words with the same sounds – there aren’t many sounds to choose from when words are monosyllabic). Chinese poetry exploits this to the full. Take this excerpt from the famous “The East Wind sighs” by Li Shangyin, written in the 9th century. And even I, who failed my last Chinese essay at school, can understand it! (though I did have to google to understand the allusions to classic literature + what the ‘gold toad’ is. It’s just the lock of a door.)
金蟾嚙鎖燒香 (xiang)入 (A gold toad gnaws the lock. Open it, burn the incense.)
玉虎牽絲 (si)汲井回 (A tiger of jade pulls the rope. Draw from the well and escape.)
Here, xiang （香）means incense, and si （丝）is thread.
In a later line-
一寸相思 (xiangsi)一寸灰 (An inch of love is an inch of ashes)
Here, xiang （相）means ‘mutual’, and si（思）means ‘longing’, or ‘to miss’.
‘Mutual longing’ = lovesickness.
Chinese calligraphy （书法） is also pretty cool, there are 5 major script styles:
and the pictographic nature of chinese characters have proven inspiration for poems:
Only a bird
to begin with, and yet
it carries a mountain
under its wings.
published in last boy, by Ng Yi-sheng
And here is one of mine: Haiku #3- character: 愛
Words flow more easily to me in Chinese sometimes (not much of the time), so I have some Chinese posts. Chinese pop-songs have beautiful lyrics. I still struggle with Chinese, even when writing free-flow though. Can you fully appreciate what you do not fully understand? Probably not, which means it is even more to be discovered.
Response to day 3 of
a style of Brazilian music derived from samba
bleached-white wooden deck and fairy lights (front-step, back-step)
catch the wave (over-step,)
(step-) free yourself- (point!)
this is how we’re meant to be… (glide)
placing more emphasis on melody and
less on percussion.
Day 2 of
see my response to day 1 of the challenge here