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Crazy

into_the_wild

Dreams are what you wake up from.

14 years of Livejournalling, and hopefully, more to come.


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Crazy
into_the_wild

Memories : Retrospection : Whatever

Some old musings I chanced upon in my old site:

[23rd july 2003|10:47pm]
It's scary how history can shape the future in ways that we never knew.
It's scary how we tend to overcompensate.
But it's a marvel how evolution works: those the survives the toughest conditions never die, and appreciate the simpler things of life, while the pampered and sheltered, if left unawakened, festers and expires.


[17th july 2003|01:11am]
In the relentless cycle of time, everything seconds count.
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.
The next thing you know
you're wondering (and hopefully not regretting) how you did what you did.
That you might not know that you did.

[23rd july 2003|10:47pm]
It's scary how history can shape the future in ways that we never knew.
It's scary how we tend to overcompensate.
But it's a marvel how evolution works: those the survives the toughest conditions never die, and appreciate the simpler things of life, while the pampered and sheltered, if left unawakened, festers and expires.

[15th july 2003|11:03pm]
awashed with dreams of yesterday
debris of hope littered the bay
where life,
deprived,
cycles forth the eternal
delay.

[7th july 2003|12:39am]
Brenden didn't do too well for his mid-year and actually flunked a couple of subjects. Was angry and disappointed, but yet reflected on my role as a father-brother to him; there's surely more that I could do. Resisting the temptation of the conventional parent: to scold and go towards the negative, I tried my best to get to the root of the problem. No more TV for weekdays and a proper study plan was established. And of course. Lots of love, lots of love from me.

Which reminds me of the lyrics from Chicago...
[ROXIE (spoken)]
And I love the audience. And the audience loves me
for loving them. And I love them for lving me. And
we jus tlove each other. That's because none of us
got any love in our childhood.

Scary what imprints our childhood could have left on us.
Eek.

[15th july 2003|11:03pm]
I feel weak. Inept.
There's always this sense of failure that looms.
It's the same problem of "I'm not good enough", "Why can't I be better", so on and so forth.
It's an self-imposed punishment. Yet I don't think it's a mental condition. My parents have never asked more than what I could give.
Maybe it's the inner self, that pushes me and urges me on.
Then again, maybe I've never accepted myself for what I really am.
It's the DISCIPLINE word. I feel a need to push myself further, to work harder, train to be fitter, to reach that illusionary epitome that never exists. In introspection, it can be scary. Very scary. It works like a drug. It gets harder and harder to reach a higher level. And perhaps one day I will fall.

And then again, it's all in the matter of the mind.
Life goes on. A minute later and all would be forgotten, on the conscious level anyway.
But I'm perturbed by the fact that I could think that I have never accepted myself.

Must be the champagne.

Heh.

[5th july 2003|11:13pm]
There are so many occasions that I get entirely absorbed in a feeling, usually euphoric, that I believe it can last forever. But that is an illusion and nothing stays the same. And if it did stay the same, it wouldn't be euphoria in the first place. It would be the norm, the default, and then I wouldn't be happy in the first place.

It's the relentless cycle of happiness and sorrow. One's nothing without the other.
Hence, let's rejoice in sorrow.

Notwithstanding, some choose the fence and practise the art of detachment.

Show me a sign.

[14th june 2003|12:44am]
Was the most intense feeling. Ever.
The rest was a blur. A whirl. Whatever. Doesn't matter.
"I love you very much," she confessed.
"I love you too."
Our foreheads touched; our eyes met.
My arms on her shoulders, I brought her head closer even as our foreheads were connected.
And we kissed, we kissed, we kissed for eternity in a minute.
She was in my arms, forever.
And when the lips parted,
The love becomes a treasured part of history locked
safely away in the
passage of
time.

[20th May 2003|5:40pm]

That's perhaps the contradiction of life. We all know that life can be beautiful when things remain in situ, but we choose to lament and grumble. Perhaps that's also why everyone's drawn to Sex and the City; we're all longing to hear about what we've always known. It's just that we need someone to tell us what is wrong with ourselves so that we can move on.



... and the latest addition:

Without a sense of urgency, desire loses its value.

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You can call me uncle anytime!
I would tend to think of a person who muses about the past, who contemplates on the present, and considers the future a person who's aware.

Without retrospection, there's no yardstick for progress (of the mind and soul?)
Without introspection, there's no conscience.
Without hope, there's no meaning to life.

La la la.

Uncle Wildy! Gosh, I have soooooo many uncles now...

Wonder if this uncle here will discipline me if i get out of hand, a la Brenden... :P

With that, even I'd call you uncle =P

Having said that, it's really interesting the way you articulate what goes on in your head. Thanks for sharing :o)

Darling,

You wanna see articulation in progress?? Read my LJ...read yourself silly.

I wonder though...if urgency is really the rod we need to use to propel ourselves to experience and grow and learn and achieve what we do deem desirable or of value, we're in serious trouble. A sense of urgency is based on the fear that whatever we do, we have to do it now or soon because we're running out of time.

Speaking as someone who tends not to waste time on too much niceties all the time, there is a certain wisdom in letting things unfold before you. That when it comes to your attention, it is to be addressed then and resolved and then let go of. Like the ebb and flow of the tide, the in-breath and out-breath of Brahma, the natural rhythm that we often observe in life and nature itself.

I wonder, what more wonders would happen if we simply stopped our busy bee schedules and just took the time to just take in the wonderment of all that is happening, for just 1 hour everyday. How much more content would our lives be that way? How much more productive we would be and how much more validity we would find in the things that we do.

Starry

Perhaps it's a balance?

Like it or not, there're still a death sentence waiting for all of us.
I don't see it as something bleak, though. It's just the end to a process.

La la la.


No prob. It's not a deliberate attempt to share actually.
Just penning down some thoughts for the occasional passer-by. =)


Uncle Skyhawk, for info, I think you're more uncle than Uncle Wildy!

*runs away to prevent spanking*

zhengjie - you are oh so going to be spanked!

Some old musings or same old musings? :)

It's some of the same old musings.
Old musings can't change, can they?
And if they do, relative to current musings, then it probably signifies a change in perspective, which, erm, has yet to happen, methinks.


I once believed that consistency was a measure of integrity.

Then I realised that we grow every day, and inevitably our perspectives change, as does the world around us.

Naturally, so should our musings..

Actually, time is relative only to the observer so the interpretation is correct or wrong to the relevant observer. Most importantly, is whether or not the observation serves to allow you to grow beyond your perception of time and how things ebb and flow.

Starry

-> Scary what imprints our childhood could have left on us.

i agree with this.

and agree with the "eek" too.

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