dolorous interludes.

Graduation Day. i'll look back someday and feel a sense of nothingness; one cannot relive the moments that have passed us by; its like taking a photo somewhat, how two pictures'll never look completely alike. it is the moment that matters: that spontaneous smile, that sparkle in the eyes, that sentimental goodbye, that sweet sweet joy of knowing a new chapter is about to unfold itself, and that soft sadness in knowing, also, that this chapter is about to reach its end. i want to hold onto this day, i want to remember always, the people who have touched my life in my two very special years here; i want to remember the teachers who have been more than incredible; i want to remember my very special friends who have stood by me through my fears, doubts, idiosyncracies, girlish ravings, and heated rantings; i want to remember the silhouettes, vague, but precious; i want to remember how God brought me to RJC, having known from the start, how much i would learn and be blessed by the richness of values integrated in many of the most outstanding, and in the camouflaged wallflowers.

Photos were taken, and photos are but photos. they capture the moment, that moment, but never so well the experience as a whole, and the friendship and camaraderie established through time. the intangible is difficult to grasp, and thus easiest lost, and this is why i know this day will soon fade away with the other truckload of memories in my life. i doubt ever, that the song "If we Hold on Together", and the phrase "Auspicium Melioris Aevi" will hold as much meaning and sentimentalism as they have today, and i guess this marks the end of my raffles career! how sad it is.

College. a mirage of oh so different groups of people. the extent to this dynamic mixture cannot be witnessed elsewhere i would think, and this is the very beauty of school! jocks, famewhores, sluts, nerds, wallflowers, the eccentric, the brains, the misfits, the musicians, gosh the list could go on forever! each one of these add colour and character to the school experience holistically, and it wouldnt have been the same without them all. so its goodbye i guess, and hello to money-making, car driving, no uniforms(i'll really really miss this bit), and travelling! -laughs- it sounds almost all too good(without school, that is) but im really gonna miss it. i know i will.

Adieu to you, to you, and to you.

posted by voyeur @ 10/09/2003 09:13:00 PM

::Evanescence::
My Immortal

my immortal
i'm so tired of being here
suppressed by all of my childish fears
and if you have to leave
i wish that you would just leave
because your presence still lingers here
and it won't leave me alone

these wounds won't seem to heal
this pain is just too real
there's just too much that time cannot erase

when you cried i'd wipe away all of your tears
when you'd scream i'd fight away all of your fears
and i've held your hand through all of these years
but you still have all of me

you used to captivate me
by your resonating light
but now i'm bound by the life you left behind
your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

these wounds won't seem to heal
this pain is just too real
there's just too much that time cannot erase

when you cried i'd wipe away all of your tears
when you'd scream i'd fight away all of your fears
and i've held your hand through all of these years
but you still have all of me

i've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
and though you're still with me
i've been alone all along

posted by voyeur @ 10/09/2003 08:33:00 PM

Fields of golden wheat and millet shone as gold trophies under the blazing sunshine and clear skies. They had grown tall now, with proper care, always: machinery, grade A fertilisers, irrigation pipeways, pesticides; The Best. Commerciaism had diversified its crop, and the fields were at least a few thousand hectares in land space. Even the vagaries of nature could not and did not lower the productivity of these miracle rice seeds, and truly, the minds of this perfect contruct were too brilliant, for even nature was manipulated to their favour. On the other end of this brown turf, another plantation occupying at most three hundred hectares in land space, struggled to even maintain their subsistence produce. Were they not under the same skies and ruled by the same Kings and Queens? Yes, surely one would expect the same favour to be upon this handsome group of dilligent workers that came in a stock of tens of thousands. But no. There, the sun was indeed blazing, but poverty had trapped them as the steel prison gates would, and they found themselves having nothing but only their bare hands to bring them through the day. Favourable Chance stood not by their side it seemed, and so they plodded, slogged, and ranted. Surely now, they would reap what was sowed, for was not hard work the basis of what most would regard as the sure way to success? So strange it seemed then, that the latter had to work increasingly hard to maintain the little that they were already earning, while the former, clad in their leather boots, straw hats, sun shades, and linen shirts merely soaked in the rays of the smiling sun and thought of the varieties of meat for dinner.

posted by voyeur @ 10/06/2003 09:02:00 PM

And so the Sunday went by as always they would.

i stood behind the wooden benches with my hands clasped, whispering to the Faithful One, "i have come, speak to me."Worship was lively, as always, but i stood almost so still it reminded me of two distinctly different places: China, where the terocotta warriors are; London, where the soldiers in red wear tall black hats. i was unmoved, and it wasnt surprising, really. a married couple taking their seats(they were late!) caught my attention for some minutes however; they were both dressed in similar shades- white and denim blue. upon being settled in comfortably, the man gently placed his arm over the woman's shoulders, lowered their heads, and said a short prayer together before immersing themselves fully in the presence of the Faithful One proper. that moment was perfected, truly, by the softer tones of the piano, the absence of the drums, and the flute accompaniment. 'How id want that for myself in the later years to come!' i breathed almost outloud. this simple exchange between the couple exudes a simple love so pure and pristine, and almost fragile, but their firmness and conviction in their faith was unquestionable. i looked up for a moment and saw the crucifix; it shone in a soft candlelight of sunset red. i continued to stare unflinchingly, and the red burned into my eyes(mephistophilean, mr purvis would say); the beauty of that cherubic cross was not reflected in my black-brown pupils it seemed.

"he hath a daily beauty in him that maketh me ugly", says Iago. sometimes, i think he best represents the devil in all of us.

posted by voyeur @ 10/05/2003 10:17:00 PM