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Friday, November 12, 2010

Music Of The Night

Composition of this essay has been complicated. 898 words in 30 minutes. Please don't ask how this is possible, I was placed in a stressful situation. =) [47/50 marks]

The other essay for my English paper is even more mind-boggling. That 10-minute-worth essay was worth 32/35 marks. Not bad, for 2 full pages of 10-minute rush. =D

It looks as if the world was about to come to a complete standstill. Nobody knows that at this very moment, we are hurtling through space at an amazing speed. Hard to believe, since the stars don't look like they are moving. The Hunter hovers just over the horizon yonder, ready to shoot aimlessly at the vast number of bright gems studded on the black sheet of infinite depth. The moon was full tonight, instead of hiding elusively as it was wont to do. This is my favourite time of the day, the time when the Earth revolves quietly and cradles its people to sleep. This is the time where fantastical creatures of myth and magic in the sky look down upon us and say their greetings, though not often do we answer their calls.

Unlike most self-professed "nocturnal creatures", I do not stay indoors during such calming times. No, I am not a blood-sucking vampire who kills people in their dreams, neither am I a scientist who can tell you everything that exists in the sky. I am but a humble Earthling, who finds awe and inspiration in the sybilline structures of the universe, of which I can only be a part of by gazing into the sky. I see the stars coming out to play when civilization least cares about them. Most people choose to watch television, surf the internet or amuse themselves with mindless games, but I - I choose to see the subtle movements in the heavens, count the uncountable number of distant suns that paint our night sky. When I look at Orion, I don't see a lifeless constellation of a man with his signature belt that could put designer belts to shame, I see a man made of fiery flowers of hydrogen lost in a faraway world, scintillating ornately with piercing red Betelgeuse and young, blue Rigel (both are names of stars). By submitting myself to the wonders of the sky at night, I am able to travel to a place between fact and fiction, which really is a sanctuary for restive thoughts.

Inspiration is the other key as to why I enjoy the silent lure of the night. Of course, to appreciate the real wonders at night, one might need to bring along some tools. These are mainly the camera, a notepad, and same empty music sheets. When I'm out there under the mercy of the lords of the sky, I am not deafened by a silence which might haunt many. Instead, I am washed with the eternal music of the universe. Ideas pop out of thin air and before I know it, I would have experienced several 'eureka' moments out there alone. What better way to capture these thoughts before they are gone forever? Some of these ideas or thoughts would probably never have the chance to surface in my head in the hectic humdrum of life during the daytime, which is why I am very thankful to the peace and quiet the night offers.

Apart from that, I am able to indulge myself in an uninterrupted stream of thoughts. When it is raining and I can't go out, I lock myself up in my room and think. I think of the happy moments in my life and reminisce about those times I screwed up. It is via this contemplative session I provide myself that I am able to find out where I have gone wrong at certain critical times in life. It is during this time that I can finally take a step back from my consciousness and analyze situations without taking emotions into consideration. From this exercise, appreciating life as it is has become easier, and I feel that I don't flare up too easily. Almost all of my life-changing decisions were made during this time of the day, most of which I have yet to regret.

Undeniably, the most important reason why I like nights are because I can finish up undone schoolwork (heh!). Normally, I become more lucid at night, and am more able to soak up information and become more productive. People say it is good to study hard, but I prefer to study smart at night. One can almost say that I do not put in a 100% effort on this matter, because as I have pointed out earlier, I like to "nightdream". Then again, what else can I do? It is important that I grab the chance to do some real work when I am at my most attentive, as taking in ideas without putting them through much grinding is useless (to me, at least). This is when my creativity is at its peak.

Night. It is that time of the day when heaven comes a-knocking. It is the only time in the day when the Gods lend their creative spark to me. The darkness, the mystery, the ghastly shadows cast by the moon; these are exactly the things that arouse my conscience and hold the secrets to unlock my sometimes quixotic world. Not many will understand the deep affinity I reserve for the night, but nevertheless, it doesn't deter me from answering the call of the full moon. Night is when dreams awaken, and at times when I really lose it, I would dream of aliens visiting, and they would take me to a place no one has ever dreamed of before.


Thursday, November 4, 2010

Thief Of Time

Time is accelerating...

I am a recidivist. A resipiscent one, maybe, but nevertheless, a recidivist. I am not one who pilfers the chattels of another. Neither am I one to conform to pernicious activities capable of eroding my sanity. No, I commit another form of crime. I steal the one thing belongs to everyone, calling it my own and throwing it into the recesses of my past. I am responsible for stashing away what has been presented to me by spacetime, thinking that its full potential has been unleashed in the present moment. I am undetectable, conducting my operations when one least expects me too. I am a thief of time.

It is a wonder that cops have yet to catch me and put me in jail, for I have, over the years, kidnapped most of the seconds that strut pass me. The minutes, the hours, the days - they march by slowly, hesitant of going my way. They crawl, they slide, they hide. Yet, I always manage to catch them. During my younger days, I'd stop them in their tracks by pouncing on them, jumping, shooting them with powerful water guns and even paralyze them with shrieks that could break any glass. As the years pass by, I start opening books to suck time in, proving this method nearly as effective as time-killing black holes itself.

To my utmost horror, Darwin's law of evolution also holds true for this thing we call time. It has now become the predator to my existence, moving with such velocity and vigour which could put any cheetah or race car to shame. I did not give in. I tried to capture the flying moments, translating events into words, creating meaning from an obfuscated flurry of a continuum of memories that form after each second. What I call "Now" quickly transforms itself into the previous frame of time. Everything I once deemed as "Future" is coming at me faster than the speed of light without the slightest pause.

Still, I tried to catch this monster.

I couldn't accept the truth soon enough. My stupidity remains unmatched to this moment. Time is now an untamed creature running amok, racing itself against light to reach a finish line that humans wish we couldn't see from where we are now. Time is pressing against me, punishing me for what I've done in my younger days. Time is not to be wasted, not to be caught; it is meant to be experienced to its fullest potential, allowing an individual to live life more than it ought to be. It can only be recorded as but a mere fragment of our fading moments and memories, most of which do not match up to the experience itself. Even then, penning down these precious times are wasting the present time itself, which could be used to save the world or something less exaggerating. Actions speak louder than words.

It is obvious that I have not been properly immortalizing events in my life this year, indicating either overproductivity or the other end of that spectrum. I have not been successfully capturing this elusive thing called time, instead, utilizing it in ways only a procrastinator could understand. Now, I would no longer remain a thief of time. I'm going to race it until I can race no more.

And hopefully, win.


Monday, November 1, 2010

Freedom "emBRACEd"

After 45 months of integrating metal with the strong mountains of calcium carbonate in my buccal cavity, I am finally no longer a transhuman. Oh yes, I am freed from the monthly agony, freed from phantom aches in the mouth, freed from antagonistic clutches of braces!! I am pure; I am now human!! Of course, that means I can indulge in nuts now (although that might make me more nuts than I ought to be). Ah, who cares? =D Woohoo!

*Braces removed on Monday, 011110. Notice the awesome date.


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