A novel which made me wonder about so many things.

Miles "Pudge" Halter, 16, decides to leave his friendless and uneventful home town and seek the Great Perhaps at an out-of-state boarding school. There he meets Chip "The Colonel", Alaska, and Takumi, and their undying love for mischief soon introduces him to the world of smoking, drinking, and pranking. Miles notices:

The phrase booze and mischief left me worrying I'd stumbled into what my mother referred to as "the wrong crowd"; but for the wrong crowd, they both seemed awfully smart.

It's interesting to see how Miles becomes a different person (in many ways) by associating himself with these people. But this is just the setup scene for what is about to happen, and it will leave nobody unaffected.

This is about as much as I can tell you without spoiling your reading pleasure. So you'd better stop here and read the book.

/* SPOILERS FOLLOW */

Considering the circumstances of Alaska's death, I almost believed that the book was an elaborate way of saying "don't drink", but no luck there, that misses the point entirely. The real story is about the different ways of dealing with "this labyrinth of suffering" or that really, there is only one way.

The ambiguity of the novel's ending and the "will never know" reminded me of As Simple As Snow, though it is a lot softer (and not really a mystery).

Some quotes (emphasis mine):

• The only thing worse than having a party that no one attends is having a party attended only by two vastly, deeply uninteresting people.
  1/2:50
• "I go to seek a Great Perhaps." (last words of François Rabelais)
  1/4:50
• I'd never been born again, with the baptism and weeping and all that, but it couldn't feel much better than being born again as a guy with no known past.
  1/10:30
• (Alaska) Luck is for suckers.
  2/5:30
• I hated sports. I hated sports, and I hated people who played them, and I hated people who watched them, and I hated people who didn't hate people who watched or played them.
  2/13:15
• (Alaska) Jesus, I'm not going to be one of those people who sits around talking about what they're gonna do. I'm just going to do it. Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. [...] You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you'll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present.
  2/30:40
• (Alaska) It's the eternal struggle, Pudge: the good versus the naughty. [...] Sometimes you lose a battle, but mischief always wins the war.
  2/34:40
• (The Colonel) I mean, it's stupid to miss someone you didn't even get along with. But I don't know, it was nice, you know, having someone you could always fight with.
  2/53:30
• (Alaska) We can't love our neighbours till we know how crooked their hearts are.
  3/21:50
• (Alaska)
  "Night falls fast.
  Today is in the past."
  (Edna St. Vincent Millay)
  3/28:30
• (Alaska) Alright, the snow may be falling in the winter of my discontent, but at least I've got sarcastic company.
  3/29:30
• I finally decided that people believes in an afterlife because they couldn't bear not to.
  3/49:50
• Turns our Romanian is a language; who knew?
  3/53:15
• I wanted to like booze more than I actually did (which is more or less the precise opposite of how I felt about Alaska). But that night, the booze felt great, as the warmth of the wine in my stomach spread through my body. I didn't like feeling stupid or out of control, but I liked the way it made everything (laughing, crying, peeing in front of your friends) easier.
  3/1:10:35
• That is the fear: I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store and they told him that the world had run out of glasses and he would just have to do without.
  4/56:30
• And what is an instant death anyway? How long is an instant? Is it one second? Ten? The pain of those seconds must have been awful as her heart burst and her lungs collapsed and there was no air and no blood to her brain and only raw panic. What the hell is an instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
  4/1:00:15
• I was caught in a love triangle with one dead side.
  4/1:02:15
• Is it so hard to die, Mr. Lewis? Is that labyrinth really worse than this one?
  4/1:13:05
  Side note: Who is Mr. Lewis??
  
• No reason to be angry, anger just distracts from the all-encompassing sadness, the frank knowledge that you killed her and robbed her of a future and a life. Getting pissed wouldn't fix it, dammit.
  5/0:40
• The hardest part about pranking, Alaska told me once, is not being able to confess.
  6/39:40
• And I was left to ask, did I help you toward a fate you didn't want, Alaska? Or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction?
  6/44:30
• (The Colonel) After all this time, it still seems to me like 'straight and fast' is the only way out. But I choose the labyrinth. The labyrinth blows, but I choose it.
  6/53:35
• Takumi was gone. [...] He was gone, and I did not have time to tell him what I had just now realised: that I forgave him, and that she forgave us, and that we had to forgive to survive in the labyrinth. There were so many of us that would have to live with things done and things left undone that day. Things that did not go right, things that seemed okay at the time because we could not see the future. If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can't know better until knowing better is useless.
  6/57:10
• [...] and I wrote my way out of the labyrinth:
  Before I got here, I thought for a long time that the way out of the labyrinth was to pretend that it did not exist, to build a small, self-sufficient world in a back corner of the endless maze and to pretend that I was not lost, but home. But that only led to a lonely life accompanied only by the last words of the already-dead, so I came here looking for a Great Perhaps, for real friends and a more-than-minor life. And then I screwed up and the Colonel screwed up and Takumi screwed up and she slipped through our fingers. And there's no sugar-coating it: she deserved better friends.
  When she fucked up, all those years ago, just a little girl terrified into paralysis, she collapsed into the enigma of herself. And I could have done that, but I saw where it led for her. So I still believe in the Great Perhaps, and I can believe it in spite of having lost her.
  Because I will forget her, yes. That which came together will fall apart imperceptibly slowly, and I will forget, but she will forgive my forgetting, just as I forgive her for forgetting me and the Colonel and everyone but herself and her mom in those last moments she spent as a person. I know now that she forgives me for being dumb and scared and doing the dumb and scared thing. I know she forgives me, just as her mother forgives her. And here's how I know:
  I thought at first that she was just dead. Just darkness. Just a body being eaten by bugs. I thought about her a lot like that, as something's meal. What was her -- green eyes, half a smirk, the soft curves of her legs -- would soon be nothing, just the bones I never saw. I thought about the slow process of becoming bone and then fossil and then coal that will, in millions of years, be mined by humans of the future, and how they would heat their homes with her, and then she would be smoke billowing out of a smokestack, coating the atmosphere. I still think that, sometimes, think that maybe "the afterlife" is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe she was just matter, and matter gets recycled.
  But ultimately I do not believe that she was only matter. The rest of her must be recycled, too. I believe now that we are greater than the sum of our parts. If you take Alaska's genetic code and you add her life experiences and the relationships she had with people, and then you take the size and shape of her body, you do not get her. There is something else entirely. There is a part of her greater than the sum of her knowable parts. And that part has to go somewhere, because it cannot be destroyed.
  Although no one will ever accuse me of being much of a science student, one thing I learned from science classes is that energy is never created and never destroyed. And if Alaska took her own life, that is the hope I wish I could have given her. Forgetting her mother, failing her mother and her friends and herself - those are awful things, but she did not need to fold into herself and self-destruct. Those awful things are survivable, because we ARE as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be. When adults say, 'Teenagers think they are invincible' with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail.
  So, I know that she forgives me, just as I forgive her. Thomas Edison's last words were: "It's very beautiful over there." I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere, and I hope it's beautiful.
  6/58:15

*poof*

Some links:

• wiki
• great review with quotes
• official website

Private remarks:

• 1/25:45
• deadpan: nice word
• I need to read this book.

Always refuse to think on things that are contrary to the Word of God. We can contribute many of our troubles to the way that we think, sometimes our minds get so carried away in all manner of thoughts, and we find ourselves thinking on things which can be quite disturbing.

For when this happens we must resist by “Casting down all imaginations and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ,” as it is written in,

                                                               {2 Corinthians 10 v 5}.

If we replace our thoughts with the name of Jesus and the blood of Jesus, you will find that by speaking His name and blood over your thoughts that you will experience great refreshing times from the Lord, as He clears your mind.

Always try to think on good things, do not listen to things on the television, or read papers and books which will cause you to loose your peace which is in Christ Jesus. Another great way of keeping your mind at peace is to forget those bad things that have happened to you in the past,and exchanging them for the good promises that God has for you in the future. 

  Paul said “But this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before”.

Finally Saints what ever thing that is true, honest, just, pure, lovely and good , think on these things “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus”,

  {Philippians 4 v 7}.

 I do hope that this letter will bring peace to your minds, for it is written, in Isaiah 26 v 3, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is staid on thee.”   JESUS 

EVANGELIST BILLY BOLITHO 

www.evangelistbillybolitho.blogspot.com

People came and went. Some say, he came and went. The change was the routine of his life. And his destiny was like a child, who would not let the sand settle in a jar of water. Shaking up his world even before he could make it his own. Keeping up the beacon of hope was not easy. It was not easy to keep himself going, filled with hopes of achieving a travelogue which would be worthy of a proud final rest.

His creator had stamped him with his own indelible mark. That the stamp made every creation of his as special as the rest, was commonly rumored. However it didn’t take long for him to realize that more than all the valuable reflections of his creator’s identity, it was something else which was really of value to the world. Some called it his worth, some called it a number and many others would just make up new adjectives to describe it. And strangely, his entire self, which glowed with the impartiality of his creator, was marred by one attribute which was not the same as all others. He had heard that his kind was not the only one cursed with such attributes. Religion, color, caste and creed, although unheard among his kinds, were very much a reality for men. The fact that they were separated from their own brethren by one unnecessary attribute, gave him a feeling of bonding with mankind.

And then, in the countless days that made his journey, came a day which made it the journey. He never forgot that tender touch, the fragrance of excitement in those hands and the radiance of hope in that smile. He realized, for the first time, the distinctness didn’t matter. To this person, he meant all the worth in the world. And for the first time, someone called him his own. That longing, that bonding which had always been missing in his rest-stops, had finally been found in this person. And for the first time after his creator, someone marked him, without soiling him. Shall he call this the purpose? Is this what his creator wanted him to provide to this machinery of existence. He would like to believe that, because he knew his journey was over. Although he was soiled from his travels but the long wait for a proud final rest had been rewarded.

Life, no-one told him, is the most exciting of all lovers. She comforts you when you are in discomfort. She wakes you up to pleasant mornings after a well deserved night of rest. She surprises you with charms un-imaginable. She makes you work hard, lest you get complacent about her assured presence. She rewards you with brief spells of love, to lure you into the effort that the relationship is. And just when you feel like you are home, she moves on, leaving you alone with an unfinished fate which will never be completed by anyone else. Just like that, when he thought he was home at last, he was on the road again. Those hardworking hands, let go of him, exchanging for something which promised more.

I began my morning oblivious to the presence of ‘the lone traveler’. As I reached into my wallet and pulled out the worth of my breakfast, my eyes caught the mark on the lone traveler. Instantly my hand retracted from the reach of the cashier. I took a close look at him and something within told me, this traveler would not be moving on for my breakfast. Pocketing him instantly, I reached back into my wallet and pulled out another traveler and handed him over to the cashier. As I stepped aside from the anxious queue behind me, I stopped and pulled him out of my pocket and read the mark left by that bond which changed him forever. I tried decoding the botched English and Hindi words, and read this “My first Salary. – Culcatta – Hamara naam Chandramani Singh – Kalkada”

A gush of memories is stronger than a broken dam which washes out entire villages. The lone traveler brought back a gush, mixed with longing and fondness for that lost mate whom I had once entrusted with my own ‘lone traveler’. I longed to see that mark which I left on my traveler and the enormousness of emotions behind those tiny marks of ink, which no-one else saw. Whether or not those emotions are rewarded, I know my traveler deserved to be rewarded, for sacrificing himself so I could participate in an important exchange of emotions with my lost mate.

I knew when life forced the Bengali to part ways with his own traveler; he left the mark so that someone, who could afford it, would give him the much deserved rest. And as a symbol of my respect for their un-acknowledged efforts, I promised this lone traveler, “You are resting with me, till I can afford it!! Because somewhere on some unknown streets, my own traveler would be waiting for his unfinished fate to be fulfilled, may be on the streets of Culcatta…”

==========================================================

Wondering what triggered this randomgiri ?? .. here it is ...

"It feels nice to be heard", Joyce's Thoughts say. "But maybe, I've been saying random things for validation", Joyce's Thoughts contemplate further.

But I say I'm not seeking validation, despite what Joyce's Thoughts say. I think I finally see how my thoughts all link up and really, it is a pretty awesome big picture that I see in front of me. I think I'm glad.
-

Wisdom says:
Apply your heart.
-

I dreamed I was dying; as I so often do
And when I awoke I was sure it was true
I ran to the window; threw my head to the sky
And said whoever is up there, please don't let me die

But I can't live forever, I can't always breathe
One day I'll be sand on a beach by a sea
The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross
And I'll laugh about all that we've lost

Anyway, it's what I'm thinking about.

I’ve come to the rather uncomfortable realisation that I am the kind of person best kept away from forums, those online debating arenas where everyone gets to add their opinion to the hottest thread of the day. I thought that the only place I ever became even faintly aggressive was behind the wheel of a car (and the desire not to endanger myself or anyone else on the road provides merciful boundaries to that tendency). But alas, over the past week or so it has been forcibly borne in on me that the Litlove you know as a moderate, polite and restrained force in the blogosphere only has to have a whiff of a forum to turn over to the dark side. It’s most distressing.

As ever the trouble lies with the authonomy site, the UK-publisher run site that invites would-be writers to post their work online for peer review. I said ages ago I wasn’t that keen on the site and wanted to take my work off of it, but I’d left it there so that my agent could see the comments. And what with my agent being busy and then on holiday and then just absent in agent Shangri-la, it’s languished there for months now. But just recently the addition of forums was announced and I found myself thinking, oh goody, a bit of action. Initially they were quite fascinating in an anthropological sort of way. I’ve come to the conclusion that writers form a group of people who really, really should not hang out together. It’s the equivalent of a masochists’ convention, in that the element that would really make the party go with a swing is notable for its absence. Writers need to hang out with people who want to read books or publish books or sell books. They ought to spend time with people who are talented at criticism or generous with genuine and disinterested praise. Writers together are less than the sum of their parts; there is bragging, and cynicism and shameless self-publicity and all sorts of unpleasant antler-bashing. There are plenty of nice people there, too, only they seem outweighed by the disreputable element. It’s an inevitable problem of a solitary, creative occupation that has become dogged with competitiveness but has no objective judging system to fall back on.

What I’m most ashamed to admit is that I’ve been right in there on the side of the godzillas. It began with a thread suggesting that reviews should be accompanied by numerical scores. Well, like that’s going to help anyone. I got fed up reading about points for plot and character development and could not resist saying that this would not work for non-fiction which was already marginalized enough at the site. So okay, that one wasn’t too awful, but I was just warming up. Then some bloke made the grave misjudgement in a thread on blogging of coming over all superior. He followed Miss Snark’s advice, he declared, that writers shouldn’t take up blogs, but should revise more instead. Still, he took a break and read a blog from time to time because, and I quote, ‘where else can one write for the world, but remain unread, and undisturbed by grammar, bad punctuation, schoolboy howlers, or rewrites?’ Bad move. With the disembodied force of the possessed, my fingers were typing a reply that told this person it was lazy to take a swipe at blogs when there were so many high quality ones out there. I listed some. For good measure I added that his line was a tired old cliché that was tedious to those of us who knew what good writing was available online. Oh I know it was a sense of humour failure on my part, but it’s not funny when I have many blogging friends whose work I respect and who provide a far humbler, far more helpful community than authonomy does. But really, to think that I called a man I have never even met ‘lazy’. To what depths was I beginning to stoop?

So, as soft drugs lead to hard drugs, the crunch came when I read a thread that questioned how, and indeed whether, the ‘best’ work would be identified in the avalanche of authonomy text. I doubt this myself, but inevitably the discussion was peppered with paranoia that the publishing industry was wholly corrupt, and in the grip of celebrities, and unless you knew people you could never break into it. This is a line that also irritates me beyond reason; the publishing industry has lost a significant part of its integrity due to the onslaught of capitalism, like every other industry in the Western world, but it is not a closed shop. Well, the demon was within now, and if I could claim momentary black-out I would, but alas, fully conscious, I wrote that I knew no one in the commercial publishing industry but had nevertheless found an agent by the usual route of sending work around. Now this is bad, this is below the standards of behaviour I set for myself because, given the context, it amounts to covert boasting and I’ve not been impressed by other people mentioning their agent this, their agent that in order to make themselves look important. In my experience such statements lead to being hoist by one’s own petard or, in other words, swift karmic retribution. I expect to be ditched by my agent any day now. And even worse than that, I’ll have brought it on myself by becoming one of those self-serving narky types I most dislike.

‘Well,’ said my husband. ‘If this is what it does to you, who self-censors so much and have all kinds of strict standards, you can see why most forum sites descend into endless flame throwing.’ Oh indeed I can. It makes me think of the work of psychoanalyst Melanie Klein who had a particular interest in the irrevocably dark areas of the soul. Klein’s theories suggested that whilst as adults we all end up with reasonable, rationalising sides, this in no way diminishes the childish negativity that romps within. So, for instance, if you meet a friend in the street who starts to tell you all about the wonderful party he threw the previous evening, one half of you will be saying, oh okay, so I didn’t get invited but never mind, I haven’t invited him to anything much recently and perhaps he had a particular group of people he wanted to get together. But another voice will simultaneously be saying, why? Why? Am I not good enough for him anymore? Doesn’t he like me? How dare he throw a party and not invite me, one of his oldest and dearest friends? And I wonder whether the forum, in its invitation to a swift, ill-considered response, cloaked in semi-anonymity risks drawing out the Kleinian in us all. All I know is that if I see another forum looming on the virtual horizon, I’ll be navigating away from it towards the calmer, more civilised waters of the blog world, where I have thankfully yet to leave a comment that made me blush in recollection.

My life is a struggle in the search for meaning. Hands are clamped shut in constant frustration over lack of knowledge of the solution to my problem. I tell myself, break down your problems into smaller problems until you find a solution.

Problem: Searching for place in world for self

Problem: Inability to attain desires of self

Solution: Search for manageable desires

Solution: Self defined as actions designed to manage desires

Problem: Inability to attain a desirable self image

Solution: Develop a skill set that fits with a desirable self image

Problem: Search for skill set that fit with desirable self image

Problem: Consciousness having general state of anxiety

Solution: General techniques to solve general anxiety

Status: Life resolved. Lack of satisfaction for current status. Sleepy.

Reflection: Sense of self as a flawed individual feeds into anxiety. Problem defined: Cannot let go of flawed sense of self

Temporary Solution: Sleep it off

Solution: Psychological development of concepts manipulating relative nature of flaws and redefinition of how the world works (i.e. world pertaining to self)

I feel like life is just defining a series of problems, outlining their resolutions, and enacting those resolutions.

But, there's always the question of consciousness. Emotions are beyond logic. In this manner, life is not so clean cut. Opinions are subjective and somehow elusive of objective explanation.

Obsession is easily appeased with simple problem solving. Development of obsession is the definition of a simple solution that answers a recurring life-problem.

Problem: Define problem

Problem: Define definition

A definition is the outlining of a concept's aspects subjectively to be manipulated in an objective manner.

A problem is a concept that the mind has defined to overcome, but has not yet reached a solution with.

Life is management between desirables and acquirables.

Note to self: Anxiety results in mind being pushed to explore concepts to outline justification for sense of flawed existence

Randy Pausch @ CMU 2008 Commencement

Randy Pausch's last lecture

bedtime is always an issue when we deal with teen aged kids. every night, i sound like a recording saying to my boy that it's already 10 pm and it's already time to bed.  and the same story goes that we debate first for about 10 to 15 minutes.  he argues that even if he'd lay down at 10, he usually gets to sleep between 1 to 2am.  naturally for me, it's not acceptable because he has to wake up early for school and i insist that the later he lays in bed, the harder it will be for him to fall asleep.  we already tried various strategies besides nagging.  like if he'd shut down later than 10, he would be penalized the next day.  no computers.  no tv.  if you have your own teen aged kid too, you would probably know more or less the ending of our story.  the kid complies, but not after seeing you turning into incredible hulk!  with that smirk as if he's having a ball seeing me all green. grrrrr!

but every morning when i wake him up, the hulk in me is gone with the night.  instead, i turn into my old self again while i prepare his breakfast, and the uniform he would be wearing.  and i focus on him until i see him ride the school bus, and finally out of my sight.  aaahh! mothers. 

what keeps me sane through all this, is the realization that discipline is a relative term and one can not really measure how much a kid needs.  some kids are by nature subdued, rational and responsible.  so they need less.  some are bratty, careless, apathetic, wild.  sometimes these kids need OD.  ooops! and it will take a genius of a mother to know the exact dosage of discipline to give their children.  and when. 

you see, i am not a genius.  so i do the trial and error method.  and with this method, i learn from my children too.  the usual dosage i give is discipline with a dash of firmness and a pinch of consistency taken with a glass of understanding.  and like king solomon, understanding of what is right and what is wrong, is what i always pray for in dealing with difficult issues.  especially with raising my kids.  because on my own, with my human nature, i can never fully comprehend the complexities of it all.  only solomon can do that.  but i am ready to learn, if only to raise my children well.  because i love them.  and i want them to grow up pleasing before the eyes of the Lord.   maybe that's what king solomon and i have in common, not wisdom.  but love.  (you see, even this hulk has a heart!)

There are three kinds of taxi drivers. There are the inexperienced ones who drive politely and carefully, but get you nowhere fast. There are the snobbish ones who could care less where they are going and for what reason. And then... there are the "James Bond" drivers. These are the guys who relish the opportunity to rush you somewhere and take pride in their knowledge of the city streets.

Considering the situation I was in, I needed a Bond driver... and boy, did I get one! He was awesome! Constantly weaving between cars, barely making it through lights, always the first to jump on a green light, and very smart about which streets to use. He did a u-turn in a middle of a four-lane street to put me right in front of my apartment. I grabbed my passport, rushed back to the taxi, and we continued our crazy race against time back to La Guardia. Amazingly, our total roundtrip travel time ended up being as fast as it usually takes to go one way to the airport. I got back to the airport so fast that I even had time for a snack before I had to board the plane. It was a miracle, but definitely not the first time I've gotten lucky with taxis!

Anyway, this last week in New York delivered another dose of drama to my life, but in generally good and exciting ways. While I figured I'd be spending my final days in the city "out and about", I decided to mix things up a little. So I convinced my friends that we all should go to a gay bar and find out what it's really like. I seriously didn't expect much out of it. My goal was to go in, order a drink, stay long enough to say I was there, and leave. In the end, I have decided that a gay bar is infinitely more fun and exciting than your normal West Village bar. First, the downsides... it's a little awkward being served drinks by guys in their underwear. Second, you do get groped occasionally and I definitely would not go without a group of friends that could stay together. Thirdly, gay guys (or at least all the guys in this bar) can dance amazingly and make you look like an idiot if you don't know how to dance. But upsides more than make up for this. 1) The music was great. 2) The characters you find in a gay bar are not just chicks and guys looking to hook up. You have drag queens, lesbian and gay couples, and a few single girls just looking for a fun night. 3) You can dance any old way you please. I know this might sound weird, but I found it awesome to have the freedom to just dance the heck out with anyone. In a straight bar, a group of guys could never dance together, but this time I could spend all my time dancing it up with my female and male friends alike with absolutely no pressure. 4) If there *is* a hot girl to go after in a gay bar, you have essentially no competition. And speaking of #4, that's precisely what happened:

Maybe it was because I'd slept an average of 4 hours for the past several nights and I was exhausted. Maybe it was the two black russians that I had after not much dinner. Anyway, after about a half-hour of hanging around the dance floor, I spotted *her*. I honestly can't recall how particularly beautiful she might have been and it was dark as heck in there. But her dancing was amazing... she stood out against the see of guys as she twirled from partner to partner. Feeling like I had very little to lose and hungry for adventure, I boldly told my friends, "I'm going to dance with that girl." So I dragged them out on the dance floor and attempted to get close to her. And I got really close and even caught her eye a few times, but never seemed to get her my way. So I finally assumed that I simply was not cool enough and would have been happy to go home at that point. And that's when one of my friends apparently got fed up with me giving up and made a night-altering move. He caught her on the side of the dance floor and said something about me "having an eye for her". And suddenly she came over to me and just said, "C'mon!" And so followed my first real experience dancing... and while I figured my awkward dancing was enough to give me away as the only straight guy on the floor, she was at least polite enough to ask (actually we were screaming at each other over the music):

"So, you straight or gay?"
"Hope you don't mind, but I'm straight."
*pause*
"Oh... well, you're really cute! I'm A---."
"I'm [the chipmunk]. And you are the hottest girl in this bar!"

She actually blushed a little and we danced a little longer before she decided to take all my friends for a turn around the floor - thereby significantly improving the night for all of us. She was a good teacher for all of us... as my friend put it, "she never said a word, but just made you do what you were supposed to do." But she kept coming back to me and it wasn't long before things started getting weird. I really wasn't ever expecting to pick up a girl at a bar, much less at a gay bar. But when she asked me if I'd ever had "deep and meaningful sex" before, I knew that the night had reached it's peak and it was probably time to head home. She was a nice girl and she never pushed or anything when I did not pursue the topic. I thought about asking for her phone number, but decided that this was definitely not the direction I wanted to go in with her. I would much prefer to preserve her as the hot girl in the bar that I danced with one wonderful night. She eventually moved on to dance with other groups... but she did plant a kiss on me as I said goodbye. The whole night was the highlight of the summer and far exceeded my expectations.

The night did, however, set me up for the lecture of my life a few nights later. One person I never expected to spill my guts to was my piano teacher. In retrospect, I probably should have talked to her earlier when my relationship with TurtleGirl was going to hell. Anyway, it all started when we were watching "Bridges of Madison County" and then got into a discussion about relationships and music - which led me to confess that I thought my way of life made me incapable of having a serious relationship - and that led to a discussion of how I wrecked all the past relationships I've been in. Essentially, my teacher had one answer for this, "You are just too passionate about your work and because of that it will be far more difficult for you to find someone that can accept you. So, keep your standards high and wait." I've never been a big one for waiting and I asked what was the matter with having less serious relationships for now. And she explained that a superficial relationship was ridiculous and if you had no intention of actually being able to carry through with a relationship, how was that different then a one-night stand. For some reason, her reasoning made me really angry and for the first time, I wished that I *had* gone with A from the bar. I told her so and she exploded onto me with a three-hour lecture of story after story, moral after moral... And in some sense, although I know I'm not capable of a one-night stand, perhaps I needed this verbal beating to at least force me to take a harder look at what I'm doing with my personal life. Granted, I miss TurtleGirl constantly and without CantikSister to guide me, I'm lost in a moral grey area... but still, I need to eventually face my life up front. But for now I'm doing what my teacher told me before I left for home, "Go home and rest. Stop thinking about her. Don't do anything stupid. Just stay cool."

It's not easy to stay cool. I feel like I'm constantly burning on the inside. Everything I do feels so intense... just meeting an old friend for lunch causes me anxiety. Simply playing through Vocalise with a cellist friend of mine seems to contain the weight of the world. Even sitting in silence feels like an emotional task. The only peace I find is in spontaneity - living in the moment. Which perhaps isn't such a bad thing for someone like me who usually is constantly preparing for the next five years.

On a brighter subject, I ended up having a great week of Batman. PaltrowGirl ended up being in New York as long as myself so we made it to an outdoor showing of Batman Begins and then got to see The Dark Knight the night before I left the city. I was definitely on a high all week. This whole post is way too long to give a detailed review of the movie. And I'll be seeing it again tomorrow and then later this week in IMAX!!!!! But anyway, the best part of the movie is Heath Ledger (unless you're PaltrowGirl and swoon every time Bruce Wayne comes on screen). It is a shame that after all this hype about his death, people may not exactly realize the genius of his portrayal. It was certainly the best performance of the year so far and when the academy's come around, he should be nominated for a *lead* role, not supporting. Director Christopher Nolan is, of course, awesome and overdone as always. He was certainly helped by a fantastic cinematographer this time around. Anyway, this topic is not over - but I seriously need to go to bed and stop writing the novel that is this post.

Have a great week everyone and I'll be writing soon about my more western adventures...

There was this girl. Let's call her Alice & at one time, we were very close friends. I feel compelled to record a part of our story here, though I know I can't stop what follows from being vague, so consider yourself forewarned.

I'm not sure if she reads this blog. In a way, I hope she sees this, but it's not really important.The other day I went for Mongolian BBQ with my sister & my fortune cookie said, "Place special emphasis on an old friendship." As much as I enjoy reading fortunes I rarely put much consideration into them; however, I have decided to honor this one, because this old friendship happened to be on my mind.

A BRIEF HISTORY:  Alice & I were just girls when we first met.We were in junior high, not lacking for naivete. Our meeting was like cascading down a rabbit hole & landing in a world of watermelons & of poetic verse that came through the mail enclosed in thick envelopes covered with stickers or inky doodles. Our nights were illustrations in sidewalk chalk & I remember plane rides that collided two worlds--desert 'scape to green escape. It's hard to recall all the details of our friendship with all the years that have come between, but I recall how we trusted each other. We knew the other's love stories, tragedies, comedies. Our secrets weren't secret between us. We didn't hide our weaknesses. I didn't wear my heart on my sleeve for her; I held my heart out to her, raw & bloody & beating, and pointed out the contents of each of its chambers. We were so much alike & perhaps narcissism made us closer & maybe it separated us too.But we really loved each other & I know I would have done everything to protect her if she needed me. I know she always did that much for me. I often wondered, which of us is Rose Red? & which, Rose White? & on a tangent, I'd wonder, is Rose White trying to paint herself red?

The point is, she was important to me. What manifested itself between us was a friendship that was supposed to last forever with continued & growing strength. She was supposed to me my pillar & I hers. But as I said, we were just girls then & so we stubbornly believed in the everlasting.

The friendship ended abruptly, without quite ending. We kept up some polite communication. There was always the occasional letter or text message. Such things started out enthusiastically enough, but it consistently turned to boredom. You could see it on both sides. We just stopped caring.Maybe it was even deeper than indifference. Perhaps we had developed some disdain for each other. I wouldn't be surprised. Both of us had changed. We grew up & we grew apart--though, not necessarily in that order.

Then one sleepless night not so long ago, this happened:

Excerpt from my paper journal, dated Monday, July 14, 2008

Woke up late morning as if from a hangover. Slightly remembering & almost regretting.

Alice & I started texting last night, just before midnight. Even though I was exhausted, I couldn't sleep; partly out of my body's independent resistence, but also because every time my mind started to detach from my consciousness, the characters in my head took on monstrous distortion. I found myself lingering on scenarios of trespass & uncomfortable, unwanted sexual tension. I was constantly shoving blankets aside & sitting up in the dark. Then, somewhere in that darkness, Alice & I decided to try & rekindle our friendship.

As apathetic as Alice & I have become to each other, I still miss her. I feel like such a cold person for having been so disinterested in her life--the good or the bad. But I continued to read her LJ or send emails. It felt like an effort, an obligation to keep in touch for the sake of our history. I don't really feel bad about writing that, because I am almost certain she felt the same. It wouldn't surprise me if every email from me was opened & replied to with a roll of the eyes; read and typed with laced annoyance.But I kept hoping for some, some spark. So we'd either stop talking forever or otherwise just know that our entire friendship had not been a waste or grand deception or whatever it had become. But like I said, I missed her. I couldn't stop the nagging knowledge of how badly I wanted to want to care about her again.

She said she felt to same way. So, I guess that's where it started.

We talked openly until four in the morning. We talked about how we've changed. We talked about relationships. We talked, at least on my part, with a freedom of inhibition that comes either from excessive drowsiness or excessive alcohol--no, wait, that's wrong. I simply felt as comfortable opening up to her as I did when we were close friends.

But even though it was familiar, it was new to me. It's been truly a long time since I have spoken to a friend about my life. I mean, aside from Id. But talking with my boyfriend is quite different than talking to another girl. A discussion on, say, orgasms, takes on an entirely different context.

The entire day, I felt far off as I tried to focus on the tasks before me. Occasionally I couldn't help slipping back to thoughts of the conversation & sometimes blushing, a little embarrassed over this or that. Those candid confessions. Mostly, though, I was curious whether it was possible to pick up the pieces of a friendship that had seemed so broken at one point. We had drifted apart. It wasn't as if we had fought bitterly & needed only to make up. This wasn't simply a bad break up. It was a complex & natural separation. We just sort of lost track of who we were. What we saw when we looked at each other stopped being our best friend and became a stranger.

We drifted apart as people do. we lost track of who we were. So, now that we're different people, can we connect again?

I couldn't stop wondering if this candid all-nighter was the start of a renewed friendship. We were both so nervous at starting over again that it was almost like reliving that first meeting when we initially asked each other,in so many more words, Will you be my friend?

I can't stop wondering if we'll take the initiative to keep talking after last night; and if we do, will that effort be genuine or haphazard? Is this really, truly, the new start of our friendship?

Or was this the death rattle?

. . . I am tempted to leave this entry hanging on that thread & maybe I will; it's late, i'm tired & I don't actually have the answers to my questions. It's too soon to tell.

I doubt Alice & I will ever be able to fully recover the closeness that once existed between us, but neither will we be sorry for what we do recover. Perhaps this is one long death rattle, but until we get past this shaky reconstruction or this wobbly end, I intend to savor our infrequent IM conversations and the letters I receive inwhich she tells me what's going on with her, because I do want to know about her life & I am glad she wants to tell me.

UNFORTUNATELY MANY OF THOSE WHO HAD PUT THERE TIME INTO SUBBING HAVE HAD THERE ACCOUNTS SUSPENDED. THIS IS QUITE DISSAPOINTING NEWS FOR THOSE WHO'S ACCOUNTS HAVE BEEN SUSPENDED AND ALSO THE MANY FANS AND SUPPORTERS OF THOSE YOUTUBE ACCOUNTS. INDEED THIS IS A UNREASONABLE SITUATION THAT HAS TAKEN PLACE AND I TRULY FEEL MISERABLE AND ANGRY AS I TYPE THIS OUT. FOR THOSE WHO HAVE SUBBED VIDEOS AND POSTED THEM ON YOUTUBE AS LONG AS OVER ONE YEAR [EX.COOLSMURF] I TRULY FEEL SORRY, BECAUSE TO SUB AND INTRODUCE THE KOREAN ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY AND VARIETY SHOWS TO THOSE WHO ARE NON-KOREAN SPEAKERS, SUCH AS MYSELF, IS NOT ANYTHING SO HORRIBLE THAT THE ACTIONS OF SUSPENDING ACCOUNTS WITHOUT NOTICE WAS THE ONLY POSSIBLE ACTION THAT COULD'VE TAKEN PLACE.

FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART I WANT TO SAY A GREAT THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO HAVE BROUGHT MUCH LAUGHTER AND JOY TO THOSE WHO HAVE WATCHED THE MANY GREAT SUBBED VIDEOS.

Acting: 6/10

It wasn't that impressive like There Will Be Blood or some heart wrenching movie. Because there aren't any kind of scenes like that. You don't really need to push the limits, but for the artists, yes I guess. But Ron Pearlman was good enough to make me laugh, irritate, and make you feel for him in a very different kind of way. You understand Hellboy's character easily enough just by watching the film. He and Abe provides the humor relief... simply because they're naturally funny.

Cinematography: 8/10

We're talking Pan's Labyrinth here. This is Guillermo del Toro directing. So you get awesome sets and gorgeous scenery, of course. 

Art direction: 8/10

Super. As in the costumes. They're stunning, detailed in every sense! I'm blown away by the elegance of it all. Sammy Sheldon is just visionary, like Guillermo as well. Just watch the movie, and see all those freaky monsters, and you'll get my message. Pay attention to the Angel of Death, aka Jason's beloved and the sinister, sweeping thing with eyes on its wings. It's creepy, and it's 9 feet tall. I don't know anything freakier than that. Do you know that it's actually androgynous? (:

Hellboy kind of hit and missed in a few categories. Music-wise, it wasn't bad, with Danny Elfman.

I miss Ethan. Geez, Skype can only do so much.

Jason, where are you?

Meanwhile, I've got a gorgeous book to keep me sane from college.

Ta-da! My one year long wait is finally over. MPH actually called me to confirm if I really want it because someone else was eyeing it too!

me: guiehfkjdfu I want to reserve it.

To the other person, gotomidvalleyandgetthatremainingcopybecausei'vewaitedoverayearforthisbookandyou'renotgoing

totakethatawayfrommesoyesthatbookisyoursandthiscopyismine.

Phew.

Current song: Loving Me For Me by Christina Aguilera.

Hey all. Wanna share some interesting stuff that i found in the Cleo magazine, Malaysia Edition, July issue. Have fun reading it :-)

Think love is all chance and not design? THINK AGAIN!

Matters of the heart are governed by the same law of science as the rest of the world. And if you are willing to experiment, you can fall in love whenever you want.

The principles of romance.

1) EVERY REACTION HAS AN EQUAL AND OPPOSITE REACTION @ NEWTON 3RD LAWS

-Meaning that you cannot do anything to each other without expecting an equal reaction in return.

2)  LAW OF CONSERVATION OF ENERGY

- The total amount of love (or energy) in your relationship remains constant and cannot be recreated, although it may change forms.

3)  UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION

- Everyone attracts everyone else by a force that is proportionate to their biological make-up.

4)  OPPOSITE ATTRACT @ like the magnet

- A study by Claus Wedekind of the University of Bern in Switzerland found that women consistently prefer the smell of men whose immune systems were different from their own.

5)  LAW OF COOLING

- When one person is hot and another is cool, the passion will flow from one to the other and back again until a couple reaches a state of equilibrium.

When i first read this article, i was laughing like hell :)). I thought it was ridiculous to make the principle of science related to emotional matters because all the principle of science is discovered by experimental and science related stuffs. But i guess my first impression about the article are totally wrong. I'm glad that i am. They are somehow related. It makes the world go sense again :-)

At least, the nerd and the geek will no longer has problem in dating and mating i hope. Everything is explainable in science (most of it) :-P  No offense to any geek or nerd. I'm a nerd as well :-)

One half of me is yours, the other half yours-Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours! - William Shakespeare

till next entry

rahilah ♥

]]> http://savinglives.wordpress.com/?p=219 Sun, 27 Jul 2008 07:32:48 +0000 Gary Walter http://savinglives.wordpress.com/?p=219

There's this rumor going around that women tend to bond with their soon-to-be-born child, while the child is still in the womb.  I think this is crazy-talk!  How in the world can you bond with someone when you can't talk, can't touch, and can't see them.  OK, well maybe they can touch them, but how in the world can you bond with a little fetal-critter?

Even after my children were born, it took me a couple of minutes to get used to the idea that this new creature would be a part of our family. Well, it's not like I'm going to take them back or anything, but people have to earn respect in my world.  This is a meritocracy at it's most dysfunctional.

My Darling Daughter has been a spark in my life since she was born.  My Smiley Son has taken a bit more time to grow on me.  Given that I was in the middle of a major career change, cross-country move, and house-selling/buying adventure during his birth-month may explain some of that.  However, that as all slowed down now.

Our Smiley Son started to crawl about a month ago and he's really getting around now.  He is so much fun to watch him make choices: "Should I go in and check out the dirty toilet? Or should I go in and lick the dog?  Hmmmm..."  But the most fun thing is when he comes over, grabs my ankle, and reaches up to me.  Let the bonding begin!

Recently he has taken to giving me coy smiles across the room, and when I give him attention he immediately looks over to his Mommy as if to say, "Did you see that?!"

Tonight, we had some friends over for dinner.  At the dinner table, my Smiley Son would catch me expounding on some great topic and laugh out loud!  That's right, he made his daddy proud with a great big belly-laugh - reserved just for me.  It was so fun!

There is no wonder as to why I love being a Dad!  I know I'm falling in love all over again.

My favorite name is not on there, the Bandits.  It would make sense since they stole the team from Seattle with a commitment to make it work in Seattle.  In reality, the new owner and the NBA had plans to relocate from the beginning.  With the remaining names that the NBA will focus on, I like the Barons or the Thunder.  I thought Marshalls only had one "l" in it.  it would be funny to have an NBA team named the Marshalls and then kids growing up would think the word marshal is spelt with two "l"s.  hmmmmmmm!

We will find out the new name soon, the new NBA season is right around the corner.

originally uploaded by E.C.Photography.

i've been taking some downtime from taking photos, blogging, facebooking, blog surfing and the works in general. i haven't been keeping up with the online activities i seemed to be occupied with mostly last semester, and very often i can't even be bothered to sign in to msn messenger anymore. every year every semester something changes in my life. people walk in and out of your life, your perspectives evolve, you grow interested in new things. 

a point of reflection on my winter break in singapore and i gotta say that it was quite a disappointing trip. on the last night when i met up with some friends, one of them who was a girlfriend of a friend asked me if i ever feel lost (like her other friends) whenever i come back to singapore, because all my friends are occupied with their own lives. i think i didn't give a proper reply per se, all i did was stare at her blankly and give an awkward smile. i didn't know what to say or how to react at that point in time, probably because i was in a bit of a shock at how she hit the nail on its head so accurately. that one question that she asked me probably summed up the entire trip, and possibly my social life i guess. it made me wonder if the many things and people i once valued were actually worth it. :(

this is such a depressing topic, i think i'll just end off on that note. well, school starts tomorrow and i'm looking forward to it. i shall attempt to do some readings tonight before i watch harold and kumar! hahaha! quite a bad picture taken there actually, i missed the sunrise while on the plane cos i was sitting on the right side, whereas the sun was rising up from its left! bah. yes, i had half the mind to tell the pilot to turn around for the sun to be on my side. :lol: so this flight was a bit wasted cos my window seat was a bit wasted. i don't have many shots to show from the skies i'm afraid, and i made a fatal error by not choosing a smaller aperture for a larger depth of field. watching War Photographer again for the third time, i feel kinda inspired by James Nachtwey. tomorrow i shall shoot!

The thing is, though, that it's not like NOTHING is happening. Lots of stuff has happened, it just seems that it's not the kind of dirty laundry that I want to air out here.
Somehow or other, though, I feel like not writing here is some form of neglect. I don't know to who, though.
I've had so many blogs, and journals, and diaries, oh my, but they just tend to fizzle into nothing. I sort of don't want to let that happen this time.

I have too many thoughts, it's driving me crazy. I spend so much time living inside my own head that I forget that no one else realises what makes me do what I do. I'm such a teenager. My life is downward spiral, etc. etc.

I'm not acctually upset, I'm just entirely confusing, and oh my gosh I'm sorry.

This isn't a particularly enlightening post, as it turns out, but I didn't want to write nothing. I feel like talking more than typing, for once. I just need to find the right ears, maybe.
Wanna chat, dude?

I tried to write everything down, but the speed of my pencil desperately trying to keep up with the ridiculous outpouring of everything that I was thinking was never going to be a sustainable relationship.

Plus, I did it in the park. In the sunshine.
What a fucking god damn cliche.

Let me follow the sincerity of my heart, for everlasting happiness.

Ya Allah... berikanlah aku ketenangan hati dan fikiran... Hanya kepadaMu aku mohonkan kekuatan dan kesabaran...