A Little Boy Lost

-William Blake

Nought loves another as itself
Nor venerates another so.
Nor is it possible to Thought
A greater than itself to know:

And Father, how can I love you,
Or any of my brothers more?
I love you like the little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.

The Priest sat by and heard the child.
In trembling zeal he siez'd his hair:
He led him by his little coat:
And all admir'd the Priestly care.

And standing on the altar high,
Lo what a fiend is here! said he:
One who sets reason up forjudge
Of our most holy Mystery.

The weeping child could not be heard.
The weeping parents wept in vain:
They strip'd him to his little shirt.
And bound him in an iron chain.

And burn'd him in a holy place,
Where many had been burn'd before:
The weeping parents wept in vain.
Are such things done on Albions shore.

I especially like the part of the poem that is highlighted in italics.

I love you like the little bird
That picks up crumbs around the door.

My intepretation is such: Where this little boy is compared to a bird, who loves his father in heaven unconditionally. The boy seeks to express a love that is universal and not self-seeking. The boy's speech about love indicates the child's innocence. The crumbs in essence, represent things that have been bestowed upon him by God.

I find this part of the poem similar is to "God Gave a Loaf to Every Bird" by Emily Dickenson.

"Too happy in my sparrow chance
For ampler coveting."

Emily Dickenson uses a Sparrow, to which I believe is a bird that is perceived to not possess much in terms of worldly wealth but yet, is content with what it has. Similarly, I believe that the boy in the poem above is likened to a Sparrow.

The tragedy of the boy's innocence is that his innocence, has broken the sanctity of the Church. Through the boy's usage of reasoning, he was asserting his right to a mild form of egoism. Yet, the priest regarded his actions as an insult to the religious mystery, God, and was thus burnt as a heretic.

What appears strange to me is that, the people in the church simply sat around and let the murder blatantly take place. Even the boy's parents allowed such a travesty to take place. Was it because the fear the boy's parents held was stronger than the love they had for their him? Or was it because they truly believed that their child was indeed a heretic? Such is the power of influence religion holds to guide the moral and religious values of individuals.

Be nice to me

While being sick the past few days and resting on my bed aimlessly, some random thoughts popped up in my head. It had to do a little about religion. It’s kind of a sensitive issue for some so I’ll lay back a little. 1^st thing that crossed my mind is the concept of Buddhism.

Since young, I’ve been like watching all those Chinese drama like Sun Wu Kong and how when most people die, they go to Hell and wait along some “weird valley of wandering souls” for their turn to reincarnate. It’s like how your life is separated into 2 separate containers, a black jar, and a white one. For every good deed that you do, you put a pebble into the white one, and for every bad deed that you do, a pebble into the black jar. So basically, life is an accumulation of good deeds and bad. If you accumulate a lot pebbles in the black jar you’re going to go into the basement 18^th of hell. If you’re good, you’ll be reincarnated into a good family, and if you’re somewhat bad, maybe a cockroach in the same family household.

What seems a little warped is that ever since a kid, my parents tell me not to talk about religion stuff to others as it is a sensitive subject .15 years later, here I am thinking about the same issue when I was 7.

I was given the liberation of visiting my friends place ever since I was 12 years old. Whenever I’m at a friend’s place, I’ll see their grandma or grandpa and being a well mannered young boy than, I would greet them “Aunty, Uncle, hello.” What really puzzles me is that when I was small and innocent, I would think this: “When Uncle and Aunty die in future, they might reincarnate to become my Son or daughter next time.” Obviously I did not say that to my friends lah. I mean common. How cool is that? Your friend’s grandparents becoming your children. Weren’t they the ones who were telling your friend how he should behave before? And now you get the chance to do the same to them. Haha. How ironic man.

Right now, the same idiotic thought crosses my mind. Imagine this- your Boss whom you totally abhor in office asks you to overtime for no extra pay, you go home in a bad mood, and when your son (who was actually the reincarnation of your boss’s grandma) irritates the shit out of you when you get home, you give him a lashing which he does not really deserve. Maybe that’s what child abuse is about. What comes around goes around man. You can’t really tell who my future child or grandchild really was in his previous life right? So next time you see me on the street, don’t forget to be nice to me. :)

Food for thought

I've been down with the illness for the past 4 days or so. Elaine popped by my place tonight to visit poor o' sickly me. To top it up, she brought me recovery food!


2 boxes of strawberries

Light cheesecake

Deloba Biscuit (My favourite)


I foresee myself getting a sorethroat. and erm seriously speaking.... with food like this and more importantly, a friend like Elaine, I don't mind falling sick all over again.

Guys bleed. Girls do not shit.

So... here's a conversation between Fionn and I this afternoon. I've cut the boring bits and pieces out though. Really funny shit.

Mok says:

where u heading to

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

im going out only at nite

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

so will stay at home for bf

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

U?

Mok says:

i'll be watching a drama series at home a whole day

Mok says:

friend told me i'll cry if i watch this so OK

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

WAT SERIAL

Mok says:

its a japanese serial

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

hahhahahha

Mok says:

called a LITRE of Tears

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

hmm

Mok says:

how apt

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

nv heard of

Mok says:

u should watch too

Mok says:

ok i'll burn for u

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

wow!

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

u tell me if its nice

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

dun waste my time

Mok says:

ya its nice i'm sure

Mok says:

my friend is really picky

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

hmm

Mok says:

and i can't even picture him crying

Mok says:

but he did!@

Mok says:

i mean he teared

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

ok

Mok says:

so ...

Mok says:

if he teared, i thikn u'll dehydrate

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

take a picture wen u're crying n post it to frenster k!

Mok says:

wtf.

Mok says:

NV

Mok says:

guys don't cry

Mok says:

thats a girls job

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

guys bleed

Mok says:

yaaa

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

yes, and btw

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

gals dun shit

Mok says:

wtf

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

even if we do, its pink in colour

Mok says:

hahahhahaa

Mok says:

wtf!

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

and u'll see butterflies instead of black flies

Mok says:

hahahhaa thats the funniest thing

Mok says:

i heard for a long time

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

really?

Mok says:

yeah where did that come from

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

tats how i feel wen u said guys dun cry

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

ha. ha.

Mok says:

ok i'm saving this conversation haha

Fionn and Fianna were brothers says:

wtf!

The View from the Top

I was a New Asia Bar last night, and managed steal a glimpse of the city’s night life from the 70^th floor. The panorama the of outside looked so microscopic from there. Just like tiny ants- moving little by little, without sense or purpose. Looking down from there, I think about the September evening world, where people must be going about their lives. Amidst the paling moon light under a starry sky, they must be walking down streets, shopping for things, boarding trains for home. And they think- if they think at all- that these things are too obvious to think about, just as I used to do.

These are the vaguely defined people, and I used to be a nameless one among them. Accepting and accepted, they live with one another beneath that light, and whether it lasts for a moment, there must be a kind of closeness and longing while they are enveloped in that light. I am no longer one of them, however. They are down there on the face of the Earth; I am up here staring at them with monumental calmness. They possess the light, while I’m in the process of losing it. It is here where I feel that I may never find my way back to that world, and I may never again be able to feel the peace of being enveloped in that light. It is then I feel a dull ache in the chest, as if something inside there is being squeezed to death.

With every sip of my bourbon coke, scenes of the surface of the Earth grow ever more distant. 2 realities co-exist simultaneously and the separation is obvious- a transparent glass panel from the building I am in. The sense of reality of the world below subsides bit by bit. The traffic in the streets becomes unfamiliarly emptier and the city is less brightly lit with each passing moment. My reality however, the reality up on the 70^th floor, seems unchanged, untouched and it surrounds me in its place. The place accepts me, I accept the place and I become increasingly absorbed in its’ presence.

The music switched to a song Nara heard when she 1^st met her ex-boyfriend. I know how it feels. How it brings back memories or essence of you. How it hurts. So it is when something dies; the very inanimate objects the loved one has touched in passing serve to wound us. After a while, I am hit again by a pang of numbness, a certain detachment and I can’t keep myself from smiling. It even feels good in a twisted way. What a tumultuous feeling- A cup that tastes bitter when we are sitting may be sweet indeed when we are standing. I think to myself- Keep smiling, keep laughing and don’t stop dancing. When the clock strikes 1, it will be time to return back to the world below; the world of the living.

Velvet Mornings

Here's a little poem I wrote sometime ago. It was written with a dark finish. The 1st paragraph is an encapsulation of the tragedies of individuals who live within the darker shadows of our very troubled world. I used a drunkard parent, to juxtapose the detrimental effects of his actions on a child, which in this sense, is simply a microcosm of the irresponsibilities and/or inactions of parents in raising a child.

The 2nd paragraph, is the feelings embodied by the innocent child. How he willingly gives into darkness, the devil, in hope of a better tomorrow.


Velvet Mornings

Sleepless nights, eyes wide open;

Entranced and intoxicated, high on drugs.

Forsaken between heaven and hell,

insignificant within the infinities of space and time.

The innocent child, the hopeless drunkard,

hurtful silence and repressed memories.

I find comfort in confusion, peace in chaos.

Bury me in your darkened wings,

Shelter me in your nest of forgotten souls.

Shield me from the eyes of the righteousness,

and their imaginary symphony of angels.

Take me away, and awaken me into another velvet morning.

-Mok

The story of the Monkeys of the Shitty Island

On certain nights, I find it especially hard to pin down my feelings into something concrete. Tonight must be such a night. Today, a whirlpool of emotions swept me by my feet. The feelings felt like a mix of everything that I could have ever experienced. Everything just failed to make sense even after an attempt to sort everything out in a logical and chronological order. It wasn't easy nor was I any successful. The more I searched to understand my feelings, the more complicated it got. Such an attempt proved insufficient and it just left me hanging and feeling overly unsatisfied. I needed a concrete answer for myself.

As I began to unveil the riddles within myself, I seek to explore a distant and foreign territory within myself that I myself have never discovered. In doing so, I realized that I was feeling more confused than before. I recalled events from years back, some with such fine details and that it seemed totally absurd and ridiculous until such a point that it occurred to me of the possibilities, that such memories was incredibly fabricated by myself. Similarly, certain memories I held, seemed so distorted and warped in its details that it paradoxically appeared mesmerizingly surreal.

This is why I am unable to answer any of my questions with any absolute certainty. It is also why a large part of my answers is strictly based on hypothesis, which was fashioned for myself without a solid logical basis. What I can hope, or hope to understand, is to uncover parts of myself that for years I have left neglected. I do however realize now with utmost regret, that I have dire consequences to pay for neglecting certain intrinsic areas within myself.

It is likened to how a monetary debt occurred in the bank has a cumulatively exponential growth rate and how at the end of the year, I realize that the debt in the bank has grown to such a huge figure that I am unable to pay it off. So what do I do next? I shut it out from sight until it grows too big and uncontrollable and it comes back to haunt me every now and than. At the same time, I are so detached from my problems to such an extent, that I forget what it is that thing that is coming back to haunt me. This is the price of detachment.

When I think of this, I am reminded of the story of the Monkeys of the Shitty Island in “The Wind-up Bird Chronicle” and Marukami describes the story as follows:

“Somewhere, far, far away, there’s a shitty island. An island without a name. An island not worth giving a name. A shitty island with a shitty shape. On this shitty island grow palm trees that also have shitty shapes. And the palm trees produce coconuts that give off a shitty smell. Shitty monkeys live in the trees, and they love to eat these shitty-smelling coconuts, after which they shit the world’s foulest shit. The shit falls on the ground and builds up shitty moulds, making the shitty palm trees that grow on them even shittier. It’s an endless cycle.”

Marakami than explains:

“What I’m trying to say is this. A certain kind of shittiness, a certain kind of stagnation, a certain kind of darkness, goes on propagating itself by its own power in its own self-contained cycle. And once it passes a certain point, no one can stop it – even if the person himself wants to stop it.”

This exactly the kind of shittiness I’m facing right now. Fuck.

Something Unexplainable

Interestingly today, when I stepped up onto the stage and attempted to deliver my speech, there wasn't any trace of nervousness at all. I was feeling all confident and prepared to deliver the presentation my team had planned. Somehow, just into a few sentences into the introduction, my mind went blank. It was totally indescribable. Like something froze my chain of thoughts, immobilizing, paralyzing and petrifying me. The breakdown process was catastrophic. It was like how a chain of dominos would fall with just one small force applied at one end of the domino. A butterfly effect like that. What triggered that small force, I don’t know nor can I ever hope to fathom. That is why I choose to pen my thoughts down because I want to remember.

I do not believe it has to do with a lack of self esteem and confidence at all. However, I suspect that it has to do with something rooted much more deeply inside my being. It is like a denial from a previous experience; an absenteeism from reality.

It might have to do with something which on the surface appears really insignificant but has considerable impact upon myself. Something like how breaking a vase may trigger tremendous fear in someone who associates such noise to the shattering of a window in a car accident previously encountered.

The feelings I felt was like a riddle wrapped in an enigma. There isn’t a definite answer to it. It is like how a stranger would call out to me with deafening silence --

Where I am walking aimlessly in the middle of a huge crowd and out of nowhere, I hear someone desperately crying out to me. I look around, but don't see any familiar faces. So I ask the people around me if they heard anything at all but all I get in return are strange stares. Even if it is a lie, I would prefer it if they would standby me in quiet acquiescence. Because I can’t find the answer I seek, I have lost the momentum to move on. I’m feeling lost because I know what I heard is real. I’m all alone in this empty world; alone in this cold, dark, damp and lonely place.

As I sink deeper and further into depression, I hear another voice reaching out to me from the darkness. It is a very different voice from the 1^st. It soothes and embraces me and is determined to keep me from myself. I slip out from my nothingness and I see warm familiar faces and events around me:

A serene smile from a particular girl

A simple word of encouragement

The encouragement I got from Eileen, Alvin, Pamela and Christina

The support I got from Celia, Nara, Shanice and Juliana

I understood everything that happened today. I understood what the 2 voices I heard today was. I understood what Dorianne Laux was trying to express in her poem “For the Sake Of Strangers.” It hit me with stunning clarity what Emily Dickinson was trying to convey in her poem “God Gave a Loaf to Every Bird.”

More importantly, I realized that even though failures may happen many times in a lifetime, friends like you all only happen once in a lifetime.

God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird

Emily Dickinson.

God gave a loaf to every bird,
But just a crumb to me;
I dare not eat it, though I starve,--
My poignant luxury
To own it, touch it, prove the feat
That made the pellet mine,--
Too happy in my sparrow chance
For ampler coveting.

It might be famine all around,
I could not miss an ear,
Such plenty smiles upon my board,
My garner shows so fair.
I wonder how the rich may feel,--
An Indiaman--an Earl?
I deem that I with but a crumb
Am sovereign of them all.

I AM GOOD ENOUGH!

Just today a friend and I, in the midst of some discussion somehow came to talk about examinations and stuff. She did briefly mention to me that she had a poor memory and that she was slow in remembering things.

On hearing such things, I get a little worked up. I really wonder to myself, how can anyone say such things about themselves? Being the usual me, I told her not to call herself "slow" and that she should instead adopt a more positive mindset by saying things like "I'm getting faster." As I have mentioned earlier, everything begins with a positive state of mind. While I was doing some spring cleaning 2 days back, I came across a success mantra my math teacher once gave me as encouragement for the upcoming exams. It goes like this:

If you think you are beaten, you are,
If you think you dare not, you don't
If you like to win, but you think you can't,
It is almost certain you won't.

If you think you'll lose, you're lost.
For out of this world we find,
Success begins with a fellow's will;
It is all in the state of mind.

If you think you are outclassed, you are.
You've got to think high to rise,
You've got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.

Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man;
But soon or later the man who wins
Is the man who thinks he can!

Thinking through, there is a lot of truth in this. The magic does not lie within the person who wrote it. It simply lies in the power of the choice of words. Let me share with you a little of what I learnt today. I learnt today, that if you listen to what people say, you can see a person's past, present and future in just his or her words.

For example, when I heard my friend say "I'm slow" today,2 important things flashed through my mind:

1. How this statement leaves no room for improvement
2. Does this represent a failure in today's educational system?

Let me go more in depth regarding point one 1st. When you say you are slow, you are actually putting your focus into the wrong thing. I do however understand that the 1st step to change is the recognition for a need of change and admitting to a weakness.

In the early 1990s, Donald Trump was nearly $1 Billion in debt personally and $9 Billion in debt corporately. An interviewer asked Trump if he was worried. Trump replied, "Worrying is a waste of time. Worrying gets in my way of working to solve these problems." Conversely, what I am actually trying to bring across is that the focus shouldn't be on the weakness, but rather on the solution. That is why Donald Trump and Steve Jobs is where they are at now.

As for point two, it crossed my mind in how the educational system brings out the worst in people. Like how it instills the mentality of the survival of the fittest ever since we entered primary school and how we grew up into adults holding such negative mindsets. The slow always feel slow and outclassed. Personally, I really abhor such values.

Robert. T Kiyosaki says this in regard to the failure the educational system: "Education leaves out the crucial proces of questioning what you don't know. Do you remember ever being taught that it's not what you know but what you don't know that's important? only when you find out something you don't know will you gain knowledge. To punish people for making mistakes actually prevents them from gaining knowledge. Learning is simple a process of making mistakes, finding out what you don't know and correcting."

At home, I have my lifetimes achievements displayed openly, and also the greatest disappointment I have faced pinned up on the wall for everyonel to see. 1 year ago, I had this letter representative of my disappointment or regret locked up inside my dark drawer hidden away from everyone including myself. What is this disappointment you ask? I'll share it openly with everyone now that I've got over it. It's a rejection of my application from SMU.

Here's what the letter says decorated in florid prose:

We have considered your application to SMU carefully. I regret to inform you that your application to SMU has not been successful.

SMU's admission process is based on a highly selective and competitive basis. SMU takes great care in selecting each student. However, SMU had recieved a large number of applicants who were very good. As a result, we are unable to offer places to many applicants whom we are confident can succeed at university.

We thank you for your interest in SMU. I wish you success in your educational endeavours.


How sweet of them. Seriously. Looking back now, it really did hurt my self-esteem. Also notice how they mentioned "Competitive basis" in the letter. Dog eat dog world. Put it simply, it just says "You are not good enough for us." In regards to this, I suspect that this is exactly where the flaw in the educational system is. The insufficient attention put into students with similar dreams, aspirations and ideals. The inadequate attention in cultivating and nurturing them into highly confident, highly motivated and purposefully driven individuals, who at the face of failures, grow stronger in character. Individuals who sees problems as challenges, and when faced with adversities, disappointments and failures, tell themselves this: "I AM GOOD ENOUGH!"