dolorous interludes.

The More Loving One
W. H. Auden
 
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

posted by voyeur @ 11/20/2004 01:22:00 AM

Random Friday

If nothing of nature is grey, why should life be full of grey areas? I am suddenly filled with this sense of dislike, towards myself. I hate what ive become, and I hate how ive forgone religion to seek worthless philosophies that instill in me no hope whatsoever. I want to embrace moral consistency, to be filled with that sense of rightness and be at peace with myself for knowing that there are forbidden gardens that I should never enter lest I ruin my soul further. I want to see things with fresh new born eyes, with childlike simplicity and innocence, I want to feel joy instead of the perpetual humming of melancholy that sing with the winds this wintry December. I want to to turn back time, to erase all vile experiences that have left me tainted and broken and restore in me a new sense of self worth. But can I? Can I undo the irreversible, as with what destroyed dear Dorian? Can I live life with half baked passion and yet pursue moral consistency and obligations without feeling the adrenaline rush of being consumed wholly and the thrill of seeking what stirs in me this insatiable craving for what life can present me with if I disregarded all disdain for delightful decadence?

At first, the carpe diem that I wrote of was more like amazement, a sense of awe at how philosophers and writers could recognize and want to pursue these flights of fancy and red rose passion, and actually materialize dreams to fulfill our heart’s desires. At first, it seemed so appealing especially when I maintained a firm dislike towards all things absolute and people who refused or could not see the grey light. At first, I thought that this first step could still allow me to place both feet on two two platforms- to have both my cake and its icing; to live knowing that life ought to be that of wholesome passion, and yet, not cross lines that create boundaries in our lives for the purposes of all goodness and kindnesss. But I now know this is impossible. Or maybe, im more extreme than I knew myself to be. maybe I cant do balancing acts very well. Maybe this pursuit of Life and all of its exuberance and beauty and fluffy shortcakes and sinful chocolates have only made me older, fatigued, and afraid.

I want to be surprised by things I see or feel or hear or touch again. I remember the very first few chapters of Sophie’s World, where she spoke of how adults are never surprised by anything anymore because they’r so accustomed by what they see. Chidren on the other hand, oh the beauty in them, their quaint ability to imagine, to question, to wonder, oh its so lovely. I want it all back. Its funny how people of this age group tend to coat their bitching with a little scorn and disdain at others who are genuinely still surprised at certain things. They label them as being “immature” or even “childish” and “inexperienced”. I’m not saying that im not all of those things, and for once in my life, id actually like to be labeled that, but for a little while. But yes, I suppose there are many things in life that I ought to be thankful for as it is, as they always say, things could have been far worse. And for those who know me, I am a pretty sheltered kid, yes. Everything being provided for me, and how I generally acquire what I want and wish for(apart from men perhaps).

But I think, what disturbs me most is not the extent of what I now am, nor the level of experiences that have tainted me over these years. But rather, my drastic turn in my personal philosophy that we all need, to live by peacefully. I think I need to choose. I think there’s no a little bit of this and a little bit of that. But how can I! We are after all a multitude of personalities aren’t we? How can I merely make a choice whilst disregarding or forsaking the other that has made me who I am today(though I may not life it so)? It is like asking a man if he’d prefer to keep his arm or his leg.

And what about memories? Do we never really let go? I know a memory of a person or event does not mean we haven’t let go. But what does it mean by truly letting go? Do we feel no sensation or an ache at something we’v let go? Or is the ache an inevitable consequence of how much a person used to mean to us? Is there only one person in our lives who would make us feel complete, and what happens when you feel that a particular person is THE ONE for you but the other person feels otherwise? Does that necessarily mean that the person is no longer the one because the one means that you must both mutually feel that you’v found THE ONE in each other? Or are there a few right ones? Or people who come close to being the one? Do we stop searching? And if we never find that one, do we live life regretfully for having not chosen the second best around? Or does it all not matter at the end of the day; where when we come of age, we’ll be prompted by our natural instincts to just settle down with whoever we happen to be dating when that instinct kicks in? does that not make it all so sad, and.. mechanical then? Or am I, truly, being an idealist here? Why am I even asking myself so many questions when my stupid exam is in four days? Why am I plagued with this suddenness of great need to seek enlightenment over subjects that ive pondered about for years and years but never quite minded not knowing because ive always attributed knowing to “when the time comes”? Why am in such a great rush?

I feel tired. My mind felt like whirlpool of madness as I typed this entire document. My Friday nights never used to be like this, oh dear me, I am going out of my mind aren’t i.

posted by voyeur @ 11/20/2004 01:14:00 AM

Before Sunset

You know its a great film when eighty minutes of show time feels like ten. It was a rather shockingly short film, one of the shortest ive seen yet i think. But oh boy, these precious minutes left me hungry for more, and at the same time, relishing every moment, and every word that hung in the air as ideas about romantic love, sex, yearning, memory, commitment, compromise, coincidence, disappointment, passion, men, women, the passage of time and songwriting were tossed about in one conversation, which was hey, essentially the entire movie. yes, an eighty minute conversation which was more than lovely to watch.

The two main and only people in this film, Jesse(Ethan Hawke), and Celine(Julie Delpy), meet unexpectedly when Jesse goes to Paris to promote his book. He is now a famous author, having just published a book which was based on his one night experience with Celine nine years ago(Before Sunrise). So he sees her. Is surprised, and so they talk before he catches his night flight. The scenes of which the conversation carries through change as they first talk over coffee and cigarettes at a cafe, then a walk through a park, then a boat ride(which reminded me so much of a scene in My Best Friend's Wedding if you'v seen), a car ride, and lastly at her place.

Three main ideas that i caught onto from this movie that i related to immensely:

1) Being alone and feeling lonely is better than being with someone physically, or people for that matter, and feeling lonely. I've felt this and wrote about this many times in my journal in my yesteryears; you get through life as though a thin glass panel separates you and the crowd; you hear them, you see them, and you even watch the motions of life and people like you watch a play. But you can't immerse yourself fully in this forward motion of life, and others can't quite touch or reach for you because of this invisible barrier you create for yourself; there are so many thoughts, ideas, and feelings dancing inside, embedded so deep that no one, can ever reach that inner core, and hence, the distance, and the loneliness even when you'r in a group. or with someone.

When you'r physically alone, at least you aren't struck with the consciousness of the emptiness you feel even when you'r surrounded by seas of laughing faces that do not touch you; at least, you don't have to be sunned by smiles that you know will leave you cold by night, and at least, you don't have to apply external expressions to your words, affections and gestures to be partially involved in an activity.

But i think most of all, when you'r alone and are feeling lonely, you know that it is your conscious choice to be kept alone, and therefore the emptiness is an inevitable passage to solitude. When you immerse yourself in company and still feel lonely however, the feeling of seclusion is heightened, and you feel as if you should be rid off these awful feelings but can't. That magnifies the loneliness ten fold.

2) As we grow older and look back, we realise how naive and silly we once were, perhaps through our actions or statements made. But our inner core, the very being in us, how we feel and relate towards certain things, still remain the same.

This substantiates my firm understanding of how we never grow wiser as we grow older. and when i mean wise, i mean it not just in our intellectual mind developing manner, but rather, our emotional attitudes, and choices. I've been keeping journals(this is hardly considered a journal about my life) since 1992. Yes, of course the earliest of entries were the epitome of what one might label as silly. but the later ones, perhaps from '98 onwards, still strike a chord in me as i read back. Why then? Oh yes, the writing style has changed incredibly, the choice of words, syntax, and so on, are a world of difference as well. But what remains the same, is the core of my writing, the essence of what i try to express best i can; the feelings that go down with my pen as it scribbles the indescribable, where emotions translate themselves lucidly into patterns, forms, and words.

These thoughts, ideas, issues, and feelings remain largely the same. Oh how we grow cynical through the years yes, but the problems we deal with, really reflect how constant beings we are! Or maybe, what it shows perhaps, is how we never really change. We change our hairstyles, our reading habits, our sleeping hours, our vocabulary, our choice of clothes, even our friends, but, at the heart of these changes, resides a very simple constant- us.

3) On relationships. Each time someone walks out of your life, something dear is lost, and a part of you is seemingly taken away with them as they go. But you never forget them. The little things about them, whether a smile, a hand gesture; the way he runs his fingers down his face when portraying tears running, or the way he laughs awkwardly, or even the way he walks, are never lost even if you lose them to the world. Remember "Love is so short, Forgetting so long"? The night time phantoms will always remain, both in our hearts and minds.

So there. This film, was an incredible romantic; it was as real and as generous as it was vulnerable, and rarely have i seen the art of conversation being so acute, honest and revealing. This is, truly, a love story made for the person who dares to dream.

posted by voyeur @ 11/18/2004 07:25:00 PM