Tuesday, 31 May 2011

starless night

stormy day, stormy day,
make my worries go away;
mend my flesh and lead my mind, let not this heart go astray.

peach-tinged dusk, peach-tinged dusk,
guide this soul's most arduous task;
let it not collosal crush, leave this body's lifeless husk.

starless night, starless night,
protect this jittered mind from fright;
know that it begs forgiveness, and in recluse it finds its might.

warmth of dawn, warmth of dawn,
colour not these arms with brawn;
instead make strong its eye of mind, and with sharp tongue, again reborn.

calm blue day, calm blue day,
come whatever, come what may;
with yesterday's passing of sins, again to supplicate and pray.

sometimes, all you need is a spell

me: i cast magic missles, level 3 on the raging behemoth!

dungeon master: interesting choice of spell! *rolls a d10 behind the DM screen). do an intelligence check to see if it hits

me: ok! *rolls a d20, which comes out an 18*. wewwwww! 18 is good, right?

dm: :( your arcane missiles miss the monster horribly.

me: GOD . FREAKING. DAMN. IT. rageeeeeeee

d&d with horrible dms are a parody of my life.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

boomerang intentions

i don't really fancy myself as a man of philosophy, but if i were to associate with a classical school of thought, it would be existentialism. this is somewhat counterintuitive for the developing me, as i used to try very hard to be et logos, and very empirical. in any case, the crux of existentialism has been a central tenet to my every (well, at least most) decision-making process, and i am very thankful for this. some think this may be at odds with supposed piety, but au contraire, it just fuels the fire.

revisiting the whole purpose of this post (yes, i have degenerated to having purpose again, how awful!), it is with a lead heart that i betray my own feelings and write for hope where there is none. the prejudice against all that is dear and holy seems so hypocritical now. i can see myself staring at the past me, sitting in bed, writing this entry, feeling so uncertain. and all i can do in that future state is shake my head and possibly laugh at the infantile optimism that plagues my recent existence.

as a reminder to all, this is just convolutions to mean that sometimes, you don't really know where you're headed, and (even worse) how to describe the journey. what's important, though, is that we never lose sight of the fleetingness of life, and (for those who believe in higher powers and afterlives) that what may come has the potential to supersede everything we find tangible today.

and for those who don't believe in such things? then there is nothing left to lose from doing whatever you find necessary - except your own. c'est la vie.

another fleeting hope in may,
come slighted feelings disarray;
with nothing left to gain or lose,
one does rely on his own muse.

and when she flees and goes away,
one must not let love lead astray;
yet hope that if all is done true,
one's muse in end, comes back to you.

i cannot fathom disregard of dead old saints, and purity;
but if this muse does live unscarred, therein lies my own destiny.

Tuesday, 24 May 2011

death of art

oh, rembrand!

where have you gone?
the broken are downtrodden without your etchings;
i cannot believe that this world is worn,
the calmest and greatest of all your blessings.

van gogh!
oh, van gogh!

to where have you fled?
the sunflowers are wither in lack of your shine;
your room haunting arles is now without bed,
and all of us are sane, yet out of your mind.


where lies now your soul?
there dreaming of death and nutcrackers and swans;
i hark now the sugarplum's coming of old,
like queens who have crossed and checkered by mere pawns.

oh shakespeare!

where for art thou?
mayhap lying still at stratford-'pon-avon;
why question the why, with pertinent how,
when can you let bygones be bygones begone.

dear plato!

stop hiding in caves,
stop thinking of logic, rhetoric and maths;
come masses and ages, all of this still waives,
yet, maybe one day we can proper cross paths.

Friday, 20 May 2011


i wished this sordid soul of i,
to freely fly and touch the sky;
and grace the heavens above all things,
strike angels down with broken wings.

alas, i did not comprehend, the beauty far beneath their souls,
so fell prey to incompetence, somewhere between love and black holes.

i begged and pleaded to their hearts,
and bargained mercy from their eyes;
but neither have they human parts,
nor have they ears for callous lies.

so cry, ashamed, and banished i - before i could yet chance my stay,
and beckoned back the angels frowned, and told to i to go away.

yet icarus did not heed hear,
and listen oft to primal fear;
again wished i this sordid soul,
could mend itself - again be whole.

so in the constellations prayed, and divined in the planet's gaze,
for 'nother chance at angel's tears such that we would not yet pass ways.

how can this sordid soul beget,
what does deserve he not this yet;
and complicate in words unsaid,
far and above and angel's head.

so supernovas and big bangs, are pass and manage cyclic feat;
come back, oh angel, to this soul, and make him once again complete.

the best inspiration derives from things that are real. and, for me, i find that one of the most real feelings i have ever had (or at least the most realising of feelings) is heartbreak and the torment of a hopeless, soulless romantic. some of the most beautiful poetry i have ever read are those abound of love, but none of them ever did compare to the ones unrequited. and so, here, for the first time (i think), i am unabashedly publishing something i wrote for fermina of the red roses. i think there is a stellar irony in knowing the fact that it will never be read by fermina (or anyone else for that matter), but if ever there be justice in this world, let it not be said that i did not write.

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

things i've learned

it's funny, thought i've failed most of my experiments in the lab, i still learned a lot of things:

1. the smell of fresh (and not-so-fresh) agar is so good! sometimes, the ones with bacterial growth in it smells good, too...

2. pipetting after the nth time makes it 2nd nature. you can even turn off and multitask e.g. listen to music, read some lovecraft online, think of long-lost loves. which eventually makes you depressed. then you realise you're pipetting. yay!

3. fungus grows everywhere. really. sterlie plates. not so sterile anymore :(

4. running the autoclave machine or macro-centrifuge at 12am when nobody around is pretty fricken scary. it's like the malaysian equivalent of hearing whispers when nobody's around. on that topic, it's funny how you get spooked back home so easily, but here... not so much.
5. a career in science is... way overrated :/ at least the lack of job security is such a big worry that everything else pales in comparison.

Tuesday, 17 May 2011

what dreams may day

dreaming has been associated with many things, from sleep deprivation to fertility to divine intervention to just being bat-$h!t crazy. we'll not talk about the research related to these inferences, partially because i don't buy most of it, and partially because there is no reproducibility in the results. and, of course, it's downright dry and dull.

however, we shall talk about a recurring theme of dreams that i've had recently, which has been driving me nuts. over the past month or so, i've been dreaming heavily of running away from something or towards something. just basically running. like a mad man. on steroids. and this is coming from someone who rarely dreams (or rarely remembers his dreams). it's just downright redonkulous.

for example, i've dreamt of running a marathon. and running away from a pack of dogs. and running towards a finish line (though similar to the marathon dream, this one was a bit wacky in that it wasn't really a race but there was a finish line. seriously wtf). you get the picture. oh, yeah, the best one was running away while the earth is falling apart. think armageddon meets 2012. where would one run to if the whole earth is crumbling beneath your feet? honestly, these dreams make me feel like a retard.

but, anyway *ahem*. that's what the dreams are about. more importantly, though, is how the dreams end. abrupt. confusing. and, always. always. i wake up panting like a rabid dog, dehydrated to the bone and with my head spinning like a merry-go-round. i'm also usually sweating and feeling super hot. once in a while i might even feel ever-so-slightly nauseous. but that's kind of stretching it.

just like how a double rainbow puzzles some, 'what does it mean?' i wish i knew someone who interprets dreams. actually, i do, but this person hasn't divulged any info of use as of yet. agh, the confusion!

Saturday, 14 May 2011

sickly rainbow, what does it mean?

to read a thousand stormy gales,
and sing of cats and great blue whales;
to lose a girl you've not for fought,
to lose a man you need say naught!

with cheerful skies that heavy rains, a rainbow sickly sorrow sweet,
alas, this world's too beautiful, so in another we might yet meet.

p/s: double post because i feel like it!

expectations in the time of tender nights

i love written word. literature. novels. poetry. sometimes plays and often songs. this is, unfortunately, not a portrayal of myself, and i often find disgust in the fact that i have yet to write something of any significance.

however, that has never stopped me from projecting and living vicariously through the novels i read. ultimately, this has lead me to draw from, and relate to many, if not all the things i read. it is humorous how readily one, such as i, can see oneself in characters detached entirely from reality, but i believe that fiction is the best salve for non-mortal wounds. and i hope, one day, i can meet someone with similar passion, because what is now left a vestigial hope of defining a soulmate, lingers on as promise of a clear and present sign.

in any case, my reading is not extensive. i would wish to have read more but i have slowly come to terms that this is not feasible - there are too many fronts in life to pursue to warrant sacrificing more important things for the time being (which is a thorough-hearted, sinful promise to myself that one day, when the dust has settled, i will indulge in reading to my fullest content. but today is definitely not that day).

with each changing emotion, i refine this list of novels that define and represent me, and for the past few years, here are the top 3 books that, if i had to hand to someone to read to describe myself, would be:

1. great expectations, by dickens.
2. love in the time of cholera by gabriel garcia marquez.
3. tender is the night by fitzgerald.

a slight amendment i would make is that, unlike how fermina and florentino are actually (initially) in love, substitute for how werther falls for someone already married, as per goethe's work of said name.

and you thought a young man bereft of love was a pitiful sight!

Thursday, 12 May 2011

of cats, teapots and flowers

a kitten!
a kitten!
we all are but smitten,
there isn't a sound that it would make sad;
but after the meows and soft, cuddly snores,
what's that? poo on my bed?
*smack* bad, kitty, bad!
a teapot!
a teapot!
what better to make friends?
a soothing, lemon-smell does waft'n the air;
but, oh, here comes kitten! prancing up and down,
down topples and *crash*!
oh, my, that's not fair.

a love letter!
a love letter!
how could you not smile?
when reading soft lines of unrequited warmth?
how cruel is thine fate, when hearts do not meet,
and destiny's daughter does nigh step forth.
a rose!
a rose!
what beautiful prose,
was written to 'company this undying heart;
but gone are the days when right is preferred,
we've all failed to do our small, petty part.

a tissue!
a tissue!
is all that is left,
of sickly-sweet sorrows, and petty distractions;
*ahem* don't be quick to judge that meek suitor,
what lacks he in blind, he
makes up in affection.
an ending!
and ending!
quick, call for one now!
he sighs and he wallows in languid self-guilt;
*slap* goes the wrist,
*sigh* goes one's lips,
there crumbles the hopes he has long has tried built!

omg, you're kidding me, a kitten & roses teapot really does exist! let the lols commence!

Tuesday, 10 May 2011

goodbye, old friend

well, well, well. look what the cat dragged in. some negligent blogger, apparently!

so, there's a lot of things that have been happening lately, and i obviously had wanted to write about them (it's therapeutic!). however, lady luck is being a persistent and proverbial biatch, much to my dismay. my old powerbook g4 has finally died, and for the record, i'd like to state that it really wasn't its fault (i may have accidentally dropped it from my lab bench. possibly). who knows how many years it had in it left, but going strong at 7 years, even though it made the noise of an aeroplane taking off every time i started the old thingamajig up... i still love you!

in any case, the poor thing has died, and i have lost my reason to live... i mean, i have been finding it hard to do the things that i used to take for granted. i've lost all my passwords (which i forget 20s after penning down), i can't do my internet banking, i can't check my emails (although i seem to have no problems checking facebook from the lab computer) etc. etc. you get the picture.

so yeah, blogging... put on the backburner for a while, but when i get my new laptop (hopefully this weekend, if i can manage to get paid. apparently my employers are having some problems with my tax file number, so i haven't been paid properly in a while /sadfase). macbookpro, i'm thinking. hmmm. still haven't decided which and what to get.

ahh, writing on the fly with no purpose is so disconcerting, i need to get back into the mood of having a topic to write about. in any case... toodles with noodles.