夢

It's a dark and gloomy day. It hasn't stopped raining since last night. My world is taking a shower.

A shower is a cleansing ritual. In the gloom, the chaos, the mess that rain brings in the tropics, one seeks peace in the release. Yet the faraway rumbling of thunder, deeply echoes the insecurities and frustrations.

There may not be a purpose to every event; but there is always a cause to every action. I wonder how long, how many times I can tell myself it's ok, that I have the strength for faith, before I cave and say I'm too tired. Because all that I use to fill up, all my numbing agents, just make me feel emptier when I wake up.

I am aware of my shortcomings. I have little faith and too many insecurities in myself, in the people around me, in the world. Everything is too transient, and I always seem to be several steps behind, without knowing why. But because I have learned to always doubt, it doesn't matter. Very few things really matter to me. 

I was alone, but I didn't feel lonely. Because I have been living so carefully. So why do I feel so lonely now, when I'm not alone? Because I have decided to be brave, to take the plunge, expose myself and live a life of emotions. If my life were a painting, what do I want it to look like?

Relationships are complicated because humans are complicated. Why are humans complicated? Because they think too much, doubt too much, worry too much. If people are honest, then life would be a lot simpler, and happier. Blind faith is simply a romantic ideal to me.

The rain has stopped.

最近有些感觸。總覺得現在的自己，一直活在 ’從前‘ 和 ’未來‘。明知道要珍惜 ’現在‘，可 ’回憶 ’總比 ‘現實’ 美麗。可能我的人生就像在爬一座山 － 山路艱難，眼裡只盯著壯圍的山頂，並不去注意山路有多美麗。直到休息時，往後看，才曉得原來路程真美。真是不應該。
在人生中，我認為最可怕，是 ‘後悔’。因為時間是公平的；它不會偏袒任何人。一個人在人生道路的每一點，都只能走一次。所以為了不後悔，必須認認真真的走過每一刻。

說的容易，做的還真難。

This is merely a recording of my thoughts for now, and it is not meant to pass any judgements whatsoever. I do not pretend to possess any additional prior knowledge.

2011 is a very special year to a Singaporean. For years, Singaporeans have struggled with the question of identity. A country made up of immigrants from different parts of the world, speaking different languages, uniting together on one little island for one single common goal of survival. We search for the meaning of 'being Singaporean'. We search for a national costume, a national flower, a national emblem, a national icon, a national architectural style. We struggle to find what does it mean, a sense of belonging? 

We have wonderful nation administrators that brought political, economic and social stability. The single-minded goal of the party resonated with the people, we will bring peace and prosperity to this little island. Our needs were fulfilled, we were satisfied. There were almost no questions, because there wasn't a need. However, came the generation that did not lay the foundation stone of the nation, but yet enjoyed the capable administration. Because of the high level of efficiency, there is almost no room for discourse; extra participation appeared simply to be liabilities. 

Just as one claims ownership to his personal space through placing their possessions in specific areas, at a more macro level, political participation is also the way for one to feel belonged to a nation. There is a difference between having confidence, and being apathetic. 

The information age has brought about heightened awareness. The need for accountability is increased, discourses are rampant. But here lies a beautiful thing. Everyone has a voice, and people are starting to realise that they have the ability to use it. Voices are no longer limited to the realm of the speaker's corner. Discourses are more often than not, a liability. A united, singular voice is the strongest, that is the belief of this nation's founding party. But unfortunately, people are not robots. To create an all-agreeing singular voice, can only mean voices are quelled, silenced. And a tunnel-vision in this day and age, is a ticking time-bomb. 

Why 'administrators' and not 'politicians'? Politics is a dirty realm. Yet politicians are expected to appear to rise above that scum, inspire the people to believe in them, follow them, even die for them. They are the generals you see that leads the charge, yelling the war cry that strikes a cord with every citizen. Not everyone is suited to be one, because it is not simply 'a job'. Like a nurse, or a monk, it is a calling and a passion. Pays little, gives little thanks, but yet you're there because that is where you belong. Administrators are systematic beings whom presence are imperative cogs to keep the country running, they are never able to achieve the above. 

Why do we need such high salaries? Because we are hiring highly qualified administrators, not true blue politicians. It appears that the ruling party fears discourse. Perhaps I am naive, but if agreement can only bring us this far, perhaps a dose of discourse is needed to inject new blood, stir the pot. There is no greater lesson than a mistake, so some mistakes have to be made, before you know they really are mistakes. It is not to say that we should act brashly, and oppose for the sake of opposing. But that there is a need to look for a new way of governance, because of the old reliable methods, are no longer robust enough to support the needs of today.

As a Singaporean, it feels great to have a voice at last, and to see the people around me being so active after lying dormant for so long. For the first time, I feel that I am not Singaporean merely because I love chicken rice, but because I have a stake in this land. 

It's dim and its quiet. Sitting on the same bench as I did 3 years ago. Looking out to the same view. The only thing missing, is the sound of torrential rain and waterspray in my face. Otherwise, the conditions are hauntingly familiar. I've sat at this exact spot before. Wondering if I ever get to see this day. Now. I'm sitting here, thinking of that day. The years, the experiences, the hardships seems all to fade away into something so trivial, it makes me wonder what I've made of my life so far. I look at the person sitting beside me, 3 yrs ago, and ask. Am I the person I thought I was going to be? Both times I sit here, each are life altering steps. It was better to dream.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

In every person's life, occasionally he takes stock of his life. Say everyone is travelling on a freeway, each of these are toll-booths. You take stock of which part of the journey you're on, who's travelling in the car with you, who are driving around you, who have you left behind.

We try so hard to be someone that we want to be. And somehow the nearer I seem to get there, the more blur the picture seems to get. To the point that you're not really sure, if what you've been chasing all along, was what you thought it was. 

There is a city, where everything moves. Except the ground. And the sky. Buildings we know today, don't exist. Instead, buildings are creatures. some huge, some tiny. some so big, you can't see the end. These creatures, they feed on carbon dioxide, toxic gases, and sunlight. They are constantly evolving. Always moving. 

Meet Bobsmelt. He is as lazy as a sloth. He's big, and moves so slowly, you hardly notice at all. You seem to think he's stationary, until one day you return, you would think he's dead. But he's simply somewhere else. Then again, how do you know if you were back where you once were?

Pumprink is eager to say hi. He's just the opposite. Small, nimble, hyperactive, nosy. Always eager to try new things, every time you see him, you can hardly recognize. One day, he's a clean-cut, edgy fellow, and the next, he becomes a seductive temptress flaunting sweeping, elaborate curves.

The people of this city each have a profound link with the creatures they dwell in. Navigation is never a problem, despite the lack of signs, or presence of any landmark whatsoever. Everything here has life, character, feelings, and dreams. And this, creates the links, which on the macro level, you will see the city is connected by an invisible web. This web, is what connects the people, to their surroundings.

~TBC.

What do you want? I'll give it to you. 

She will revel in the sun. She hides in the shade. 

Standing on the curb, watching oblivious cities float across the sky, 

A cab slows down, stops. A wave, a yell, and it's off again.

A lone passerby stops and asks. 'What are you waiting for?'

She says. 'Those 2 lanes. One time, they lined a long straight drain. Another time, they flanked a long straight road. It was green; it was red; it was white. But they all led home.'

The sky darkens, and the world started spinning. Suddenly, she's back in front of the dancing fountain. 

Her heart joins in the dance, her head mocks the attempt. 

Flash of a camera, and she's back on the curb.

That green hair 
That seems to have turned to dust.
Unforgettable.

夢お好きです。

夢おする。
 
夢おと待てください。

いまわ、と待てください。

It seems to always be a back and forth. We run from cruel reality to seek solace in the bosom of dreams, then run from unfulfilled dreams to  the comfort of reality.

The world where dreams go to die. 

If there was such a parallel universe, what would each tombstone say?

Is this where it all merges?


世界わ何する？

わからない。

夢わ何？光わなに？

わからない。
遠いですね。難しですね。

面白い。 悲しい。

 Where lies the line, between the lie, and the truth?

One tries to comfort, convince oneself of logic.

Space. What is space? Space is everywhere. But we choose define space by walls and ceilings. Then we call that 'space'. A meaningful emptiness. 

But what is the meaning? Isn't it to some extent, the willful definition of one (or a group) of individual?

Much like space, we set up metaphorical walls, ceilings, to define ourselves, our lives. Else we are a blank piece of paper, or undefined space. One is everything, and yet nothing. 

One tutor told me, architecture requires an endless, relentless pursuit. Seniors told me, architecture will consume your life, and you will never see the world in the same light again. 

It's like learning how to fly. First the wondrous world of flight consumes you, obsesses you. Then it becomes so ingrained, it becomes a reflex. So much so that it becomes part of your subconscious. 

My current tutor loves to ask us this question. 'What is your hierarchy no. 1?' It's true. There are so many things, so many elements, so many considerations, one often gets confused. That we get blinded towards what the most important thing is. The most ridiculous thing is, what we think is so important, that we cannot let go at the expense of everything, sometimes cannot be explained logically. 

Why? Because we are human. Nature is logical. Practical. But humans. The thing that we often want the most, cannot be explained. Willfulness.

What drives us? Belief? Logic? Passion? Instinct? Architecture was my life. Now architecture is part of my life. It is not enough. Because to me, architecture, is not about architecture. The beauty of architecture, does not lie in the perfect combination of geometric forms, nor the perfection of proportions. Rather, it lies in the interaction with humans. The most beautiful spaces are able to tell stories, tell stories of the scorned, of the revered, of the lovelorn. These stories, are etched in time, and in stone. 

It is the satisfaction of torture. The perverse need to go against the natural order of things.  The lies we tell ourselves just so we are able to move forward, like horses with blinkers. The fortunate few are blessed; the majority opt out and settle for the mediocre, while the stubborn few trudge on, living in their self-imposed imprisonment.

It is not enough. Not enough. We fill ourselves up so much, only to feel completely empty at the end. This must be a cosmic joke.