I missed the countdown to 2012 last night. We had a splendid view of the skyline,- a stippling of chromatic lights upon an inky-black canvas- but we missed it anyway. Sensei Flower was supporting his mother down the stairs, while Ah Da, JJ, and Gus hovered behind unhelpfully. As they tottered gingerly into the room, there was a sudden psychedelic blaze of sparks in the sky. There was a collective gasp of wonderment, mixed in with a little bit of... regret? It IS hard to say goodbye to time, seeing the hours burn up before your very eyes, careening at 360km/h in 360 degrees and disappearing as fast as they had exploded into your consciousness. But that was how 2011 ended: unexpectedly, abruptly, and staring at the backs of people that I had long etched on the back of my eyelids. There was even a whiff of annoyance as I jostled with the rest for a prime viewing spot by the window (all the better to take pictures from. What does it say about my generation that requires our days to end up as photos?) It was unassuming, it was understated, and for that to have been most of my year was something that I really appreciated. From here on: the annual summary of dazed days.
( we will see when it gets warm )
There appears to be a positive correlation between the amount of work I have to do and posting activity. Definitely not a spurious relationship, as there is a mediating variable that would better explain what it is about the independent variable X that causes dependent variable Y. Hahaha. Can't remember what else from the latest 2101 lecture, and after listening to this, I am not particularly motivated to recall either. Who knows, who cares. Close your eyes and feel the guitar riffs cruising across your eyelids. Then, febrile heart-beating to welcome the rapid and sonorous drumbeats. Following that, have a break (+a kit-kat) by slackening and unknotting your muscles by piggybacking on their soaring harmonies. And voila! A fiery drive to watch the latest indie flicks, dissect the most esoteric of books, anything but flipping through readings and sources. Hmm.. I'll get there; I'll have to. But for now~~ ahhh.. As always, thanks Leechul, ma unabashed hipster-in-accomplice. HAHA.
On some days, it is easy. But yesterday, that was when things became difficult. When you are young, the world is yours to conquer. Elaborate justifications are put into place, aided by the expanse of time sprawling away from you. There is always time, ripe for the picking. But what do you do when your grandmother turns to you, a bit teary-eyed, and says that she is scared? That 一天一天地过去，孩子越来越大，老人越来越怕. That the winding down of days is simultaneously the winding down of days left. When you are young, the end is at the end of concerns crowding your mind. Friendships, relationships, and all those ships: they are berthed in the shallow-water harbour of thoughts. Mortality and its great purposes are meaty issues to think over, with time to digest it over. But that is the privilege of the young (and youthful). What can you do, other than hold her hand and listen? I don't know; it is hard.
It recently occurred to me that what people are seeking for are human connections in the present. The warmth of a hand, the reassurance of a smile, the appreciation of a shared sense of humour. Our lives are segmented into what and when you deigned to share with others. How can one truly know another person? Even so, what would that mean? The having-been-there is what keeps us going. That, and songs like this, which makes you clutch your heart in something between sadness and hopefulness.