Painted white lines

Lines. They mark and divide. But yet people do not necessarily heed them. Stepping over. Or stopping short. The recent "road improvement" efforts here in Jogja city seem to be centered on painting new markings on the roads. Not that it makes the traffic any more orderly, the same reckless overtaking, against the flow of traffic stunts still are a norm. So... what the hell for? This reminds me vaguely of irritating behaviour at train stations with commuters squeezing to get on even before those wanting to get off can exit the carriage. There are lines for sure. But for all intents and purposes, it could be painted on those inconsiderate people's foreheads. They can't see them.

Lines. They don't necessarily have to be physical in nature. Many exist in an imagined reality which only our minds can see. Invisible boundaries. Drawn. Re-drawn. Erased. Drawn again. A never ending process as we negotiate the uncertain pathway that we call life. I wonder when would come a time that a line, wrongly drawn, or not drawn, be the downfall of me.

Insomnia

I can't sleep. Try as I might, the comfort of nothingness just does not take me tonight. Somehow the feeling of loneliness seemed extremely strong, with music not even assuaging it. Looking out the window at the dark city, tiny points of lights left on here and there, the empty deserted streets. If I turned out to be last person alive on this planet, I wouldn't be too surprised. Writing this post on TextEdit made it worse, while I do not profess to be an internet addict, not being able to get a connection at this hour is extremely strange, it's as if the powers that may be have conspired to cut me off from communicating with anyone other than myself. Lately I have been finding myself in situations that I have something to say, yet I bite my tongue to swallow it back. What am I afraid of? This is a question I ask myself now as I reflect on it. Is it because that I have gained so much that I am afraid to lose it all? A high-stakes poker game some might call it, with all your chips riding on straight flush... but even that can be undone by someone else with a royal flush. As good as your cards may seem, there is always that remote possibility that someone will best you. Sigh. It's too early/late to be pondering on such. Sleep does not beckon, but I shall try nonetheless.

Are you afraid?

From the Cape No.7 sound track... a simple but meaningful song.

愛你愛到死

作詞 嚴云農
作曲 呂聖斐
編曲 呂聖斐

Oh Oh Oh
愛你 愛到不怕死 Baby
愛我 請你讓我瘋狂一次

愛是什麼東西 不過就是種遊戲
情是什麼玩意 不就是玩玩而已
Honey Darling Baby 或是叫我小親親
只要哄我高興 冥王星都陪你去

Oh 愛你 愛到不怕死
但你若劈腿 就去死一死

Oh Oh Oh
愛你 愛到不怕死 Baby
愛我 請你讓我瘋狂一次

Progress

A rather interesting discussion on the topic of progress came up recently during a Evolution and Diffusion Theory lecture recently on just what it is. Many definitions were offered, but none seem to be quite satisfactory after being examined from a neutral standpoint. The ideals of civilisation, cities, technology, industry, and such, are they really what makes (or breaks) progress? Or are they in fact just means of enslaving ourselves to a system that hinders it.

Incidentally this particular vein of thought played out on my mind during the pre-KKN survey trip to Petungkriyono over the last weekend. As "backward", isolated, and simple as their lives may be in remote mountain villages, as a people they are no less "civilised" as the city folk, and in more ways than one, I would even dare say much more so in terms of manners and hospitality.

Even though it was but a short survey trip, it has given me plenty to think about in terms of life and what one really wants out from it. The actual 7 week stint there would give me even more time to think about those things...

And suddenly, all was right in the world

Have you ever experienced a moment, where you could be doing anything, when suddenly you have this feeling that everything was just perfect and all was right in the world? A feeling of peace and contentment that wraps around like a warm blanket on a cold windy night, taking away the chill that has pierced clean through to your bones. That you don't want to move or take a breath even, for fear that it would vanish just like that. Playing and replaying it in your mind's eye to immortalise it forever in your memory.

Is this a die-hard romantic kind of thing? Hmmm.

One in a million

I had never been lucky in lottery before. But that don't matter to me. Because I was lucky just this once.


One in a Million - Larry Graham

Love had played its games on me so long
I started to believe I'd never find anyone
Doubt had tried to convince me to give in, said, "You can't win"
But one day the sun came a shining through
The rain had stopped and the skies were blue
And oh, what a revelation to see
Someone was saying "I love you" to me

A one in a million chance of a lifetime
And life showed compassion
And sent to me a stroke of love called "You"
A one in a million you

I was a lonely man with empty arms to fill
Then I found a piece of happiness to call my own
And life is worth living again
For to love you to me is to live

A one in a million chance of a lifetime
And life showed compassion
And sent to me a stroke of love called "You"
A one in a million you
A one in a million chance of a lifetime
And life showed compassion
And sent to me a stroke of love called "You"
One in a million you
A one in a million you

Faded memories

Have you ever dug deep into the deeper recesses of your mind and realise that there are some things that no matter how hard you try to recall, you can't seem to be able to? Yet some, though easily a decade or more ago, remain as clear and detailed like it was just a couple of hours ago.

I'm starting to think that perhaps these are memories that may have been consciously (or sub-consciously) held on and kept alive by oneself. And sometimes it becomes terrifying that as much as you have been trying to keep the memory fresh and alive, it is slowly but surely fading away, and you don't want it to happen. Maybe this is the confusion faced by sufferers of Alzheimer's disease. Where the past is but a hazy blur.

If my memory could be presented as hard disk drive sectors, it would probably be one that would appear to be in dire need of defragmentation. With so many old memories having disappeared over time, some faded, some forcibly deleted, and new ones being added in all the time. I would like it very much to be optimised to storing new memories.

It's been barely 6 weeks, counting back, but yet it has somehow seemed way longer than that. How had that been possible, I frequently ask myself. Yet no answer comes to mind. Is this what they call "a real connection"?

Time really is a funny thing.