old cape cod
Dec. 21st, 2010 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
methrowrockrain. it obscured the surroundings with its incessant pattering. my immediate world narrowed, yet my scope was broadened. gusts of wind twirled with the drops, dancing an intricate routine. then, tragedy befalls. the drop has slipped out of the wind's grasp and free fell, smack onto the ground, disintegrating, waiting to be pooled together- again, then cruelly dispersed by the undying heat once more. the cycle continues.
rain. the tears of heaven falling in parting ranks of the air, like how tears slide down cheeks. agony, anguish, sadness and hurt are components of it. what could have made the heavens cry? it foresaw trials and tribulations waiting to ambush mankind? predicted tragedies or great joys ahead? it remains unknown. raindrops emit nary a whisper. unsolved, unclear, the cycle continues.
rain. a welcome shower ridding the world of unpleasantries. sheets of water washing over the great cities. unconditional, but voluntary help. a saving grace of the people of the planet, giving them a second chance and renewing their lives. cold and harsh under a disguise, but beneath the facade, a beacon of light, a necessity of survival or? a killing machine, ravaging cities and stealing lives in great rushing waves. question marked, the cycle continues.
rain. who knows? the cycle continues.
Waking up with aching neck and shoulders was quite an unpleasant experience. To add to the discomfort, today was the twenty-first, which meant the release of results, but more about that later. It was with a heavy heart disfigured by dread that I left my house for a run. It turns out to be the best decision I have made this week.
Random thoughts kept swimming through my head when I first started the run. That of results, An Education, muay thai, friends, life, nothing unusual. Then, about fifteen minutes in, the pregnant clouds finally burst their waterbags, so it was time to scurry for shelter. What I found amusing was how it started drizzling only at the playground on the right. It was as if a raincloud has marked that as its own territory. So over at the Japanese Garden, more and more people scrambled and scuttled to reach the gate as the rain got heavier. And the funny thing was, nobody was upset, or angry, or disgruntled at the sudden downpour. There was an intangible quality of cheerfulness, or at least, all-around good nature. Looking out at the rain reminded me of the piece above that I wrote way back in 2005, when I was fourteen and still had literary aspirations/pretensions. The gravel was shiny and slick, the leaves were doing high fives with raindrops, the sheen of the lake shimmered with gossamer constellations (watch how pretentious I can get, hehe!), the flats were shrouded behind mists of rain, the white birds were batting their wings hard against the wind to get home; it was quite a beautiful scene. And then, looking in at the people standing under the gate, it seemed that a microcosm of Singapore had taken root unconsciously. Two foreign workers, two Malay teenagers with fishing rods, a Malay family, a Chinese family, a few other individuals here and there; we scarcely notice the racial diversity we have here in Singapore until we are forced to do so. (Of course, all the time my eyes were peeled for the potential sighting of a hansum, dashing guy with a sensitive smile and bashful humour. HAHAHA. What can I say? Ilike watch chick flicks too.) It was fun to imagine their stories there and then. The dad probably took a day off and took his family out for some fresh air, and perhaps, dinner at Jurong Point. The teenagers are neighbours who grew up together and traveled to different lakes and rivers to fish. The lone rangers were training up for their next marathon, which spices up their calendars endless with work. Anything, and everything. It was interesting to see their reactions to the prolonged waiting too. The family called for a taxi; a gungho grandma brandished a plastic bag and walked away under it; the teenager scrolled through facebook on her iphone. Eventually, it led me to remember that there was so much more to life, than trainings, results, or university, for that matter. So many people you could meet, so many things you should do, so many challenges you would attempt. This reminded me of An Education, which I watched on Sunday night.
Carey Mulligan was stellar in the film. Her wide-eyed ingénue aura, eyes brimming with optimism, idealism and desire to learn, to see, to hear. Subsequently, her turmoil, the disappointment and the disillusionment. And finally, her rebirth, but her gaze was never quite as bright as before. Instead, it was marked by a certain shade of jaded cynicism. An academic education versus one obtained from the University of Life, which would you have chosen when you have passed the entrance examinations for both? The scene that broke my heart was when Mr Mellor laid down biscuits and tea outside Jenny's door. All he wanted was for Jenny to have what he did not have, so much so that he, too, was deceived by David's suaveness, which speaks of the fallibility of parents, whom we stack so much respect and belief for. The truth was that he was doing as best as he could, with her best interests, but handicapped by his presumably not-middle-class background and ignorance of the perils of the glamorous life. It was beautifully shot as well. All in all, it was a really absorbing show.
Anyway, after about thirty minutes of running, I decided to make a run for it. But... it started raining heavily again halfway out of Japanese Gardens, so I hastily retreated to the conference building. Sitting on the parapet, watching two little boys giggle excitedly about throwing bread to a whirlpool of thrashing fish and stately turtles, a gentle peace settled over me. In Hollywood movies, following this self-satisfied scene, the lead characters will strike upon an epiphany that they would narrate in voice-over in self-deprecatory tones about how foolish they had been before, and that nothing mattered more than ___. Sadly, this is not reel life. In real life, all I have encountered were small realizations that conflicted with each other, befuddled another, but eventually grew to influence and nudge me towards a path. And this time, I realised that the primary force behind deciding to major in political science was personal vanity. I wanted to study it, so that I could understand it myself when I came across events in newspapers, so that I could be/seem knowledgeable about the world. How foolish I have been before! (hahahaha) But indeed, it is an unworthy and unsubstantial motivation. How could I possibly hope to build anything out of that? I need to reconsider and rethink about what I can do, not only for myself, but for others. Because living as an island will lead to drowning when the polar ice caps melt. Haha, bad analogy but the sentiment is there. It would be myopic and short-sighted to do things only for oneself. So over the next semester, maybe I will strengthen my interest in PS, maybe I will decide to do something else, I don't know. Right now, even though the results for a couple of modules (HY! PS! The irony. I worked the hardest, but scored the worst for them) may not be as satisfactory, I must be thankful for my grades. And I must continue learning, reading, absorbing. Why? BECAUSE LEARNING IS A LIFELONG JOURNEY!!! Hhahahaha. This is evidence that I have been staring at a monitor for too long. Training tomorrow, wowhee. Push, push, push!!
rain. the tears of heaven falling in parting ranks of the air, like how tears slide down cheeks. agony, anguish, sadness and hurt are components of it. what could have made the heavens cry? it foresaw trials and tribulations waiting to ambush mankind? predicted tragedies or great joys ahead? it remains unknown. raindrops emit nary a whisper. unsolved, unclear, the cycle continues.
rain. a welcome shower ridding the world of unpleasantries. sheets of water washing over the great cities. unconditional, but voluntary help. a saving grace of the people of the planet, giving them a second chance and renewing their lives. cold and harsh under a disguise, but beneath the facade, a beacon of light, a necessity of survival or? a killing machine, ravaging cities and stealing lives in great rushing waves. question marked, the cycle continues.
rain. who knows? the cycle continues.
Waking up with aching neck and shoulders was quite an unpleasant experience. To add to the discomfort, today was the twenty-first, which meant the release of results, but more about that later. It was with a heavy heart disfigured by dread that I left my house for a run. It turns out to be the best decision I have made this week.
Random thoughts kept swimming through my head when I first started the run. That of results, An Education, muay thai, friends, life, nothing unusual. Then, about fifteen minutes in, the pregnant clouds finally burst their waterbags, so it was time to scurry for shelter. What I found amusing was how it started drizzling only at the playground on the right. It was as if a raincloud has marked that as its own territory. So over at the Japanese Garden, more and more people scrambled and scuttled to reach the gate as the rain got heavier. And the funny thing was, nobody was upset, or angry, or disgruntled at the sudden downpour. There was an intangible quality of cheerfulness, or at least, all-around good nature. Looking out at the rain reminded me of the piece above that I wrote way back in 2005, when I was fourteen and still had literary aspirations/pretensions. The gravel was shiny and slick, the leaves were doing high fives with raindrops, the sheen of the lake shimmered with gossamer constellations (watch how pretentious I can get, hehe!), the flats were shrouded behind mists of rain, the white birds were batting their wings hard against the wind to get home; it was quite a beautiful scene. And then, looking in at the people standing under the gate, it seemed that a microcosm of Singapore had taken root unconsciously. Two foreign workers, two Malay teenagers with fishing rods, a Malay family, a Chinese family, a few other individuals here and there; we scarcely notice the racial diversity we have here in Singapore until we are forced to do so. (Of course, all the time my eyes were peeled for the potential sighting of a hansum, dashing guy with a sensitive smile and bashful humour. HAHAHA. What can I say? I
Carey Mulligan was stellar in the film. Her wide-eyed ingénue aura, eyes brimming with optimism, idealism and desire to learn, to see, to hear. Subsequently, her turmoil, the disappointment and the disillusionment. And finally, her rebirth, but her gaze was never quite as bright as before. Instead, it was marked by a certain shade of jaded cynicism. An academic education versus one obtained from the University of Life, which would you have chosen when you have passed the entrance examinations for both? The scene that broke my heart was when Mr Mellor laid down biscuits and tea outside Jenny's door. All he wanted was for Jenny to have what he did not have, so much so that he, too, was deceived by David's suaveness, which speaks of the fallibility of parents, whom we stack so much respect and belief for. The truth was that he was doing as best as he could, with her best interests, but handicapped by his presumably not-middle-class background and ignorance of the perils of the glamorous life. It was beautifully shot as well. All in all, it was a really absorbing show.
Anyway, after about thirty minutes of running, I decided to make a run for it. But... it started raining heavily again halfway out of Japanese Gardens, so I hastily retreated to the conference building. Sitting on the parapet, watching two little boys giggle excitedly about throwing bread to a whirlpool of thrashing fish and stately turtles, a gentle peace settled over me. In Hollywood movies, following this self-satisfied scene, the lead characters will strike upon an epiphany that they would narrate in voice-over in self-deprecatory tones about how foolish they had been before, and that nothing mattered more than ___. Sadly, this is not reel life. In real life, all I have encountered were small realizations that conflicted with each other, befuddled another, but eventually grew to influence and nudge me towards a path. And this time, I realised that the primary force behind deciding to major in political science was personal vanity. I wanted to study it, so that I could understand it myself when I came across events in newspapers, so that I could be/seem knowledgeable about the world. How foolish I have been before! (hahahaha) But indeed, it is an unworthy and unsubstantial motivation. How could I possibly hope to build anything out of that? I need to reconsider and rethink about what I can do, not only for myself, but for others. Because living as an island will lead to drowning when the polar ice caps melt. Haha, bad analogy but the sentiment is there. It would be myopic and short-sighted to do things only for oneself. So over the next semester, maybe I will strengthen my interest in PS, maybe I will decide to do something else, I don't know. Right now, even though the results for a couple of modules (HY! PS! The irony. I worked the hardest, but scored the worst for them) may not be as satisfactory, I must be thankful for my grades. And I must continue learning, reading, absorbing. Why? BECAUSE LEARNING IS A LIFELONG JOURNEY!!! Hhahahaha. This is evidence that I have been staring at a monitor for too long. Training tomorrow, wowhee. Push, push, push!!
