drawing by Jimmy
I used to tell myself, "it's easy to move on".
at the crux of that statement is actually that feverish desire to deny any doubt from seeping into the consciousness. Perhaps, it is more appropriate to suggest that "there is nowhere to move on to". so if the veiled desire ultimately remains hidden, which at the most poignant moment and in a most cunning way, it releases itself on you and fastens its grip.
Indifference is not the actual condition of society. Deep within that indifference is that hungry desire to say, do and change something; for the sake of doing. Rather than call it indifference, I prefer to call it contemplative, which is a prolonged process of contemplation before a very pragmatic decision - of inaction. After all, the long-lasting grip of desire works when you do not act upon the desire, but allow the desire to remain perpetually.
Therefore, (a great leap in my argument) humanity has not moved on, because 'there is nowhere to move on to'.
Despite my academic mentor claims that 'the illusion of desire has been lost', desire has more profound origins and perpetual implications and resonances that prevent 'desire' or 'illusion of desire' from being dismissed as 'lost' entirely. It is at its very core, a profound gap that is itself a filled space. It is where great imaginations, warped dreams, convincing illusions and perverse fantasies slide in and out without you acknowledging them. It is never easy to acknowledge them. Ultimately, production (to feed those desires) does not obliterate the process of desire. As long as there is one person who experiences the iron grip of desire, desire and the illusion of desire remain.
Is it not more about an impatient anticipation for a great event to occur and simultaneously wish that it fails ultimately, so that we can continue to hope and desire?
This observation is only made possible because of a recent earthquake that occurred in my life - a purely cognitive earthquake.
To put is simply, I would not have noticed this if I had not stepped out of my contemplative mode and radically denounced my commitment to a desire. In so doing, the radical step returns me to the precedent step of landing myself deeply into a gap called passion. This return, is only to realise that I never made any leaps and progress to filling up this gap of desire and passion. Ultimately, it also made me realise that desire and passion are not what I need. And this return is a return before that unknown, enigmatic but familiar moment when you fall for someone, without reason.
you will know what I mean when no tears can drop for you too.
I leave with a last poem dedicated to this moment.
at the crux of that statement is actually that feverish desire to deny any doubt from seeping into the consciousness. Perhaps, it is more appropriate to suggest that "there is nowhere to move on to". so if the veiled desire ultimately remains hidden, which at the most poignant moment and in a most cunning way, it releases itself on you and fastens its grip.
Indifference is not the actual condition of society. Deep within that indifference is that hungry desire to say, do and change something; for the sake of doing. Rather than call it indifference, I prefer to call it contemplative, which is a prolonged process of contemplation before a very pragmatic decision - of inaction. After all, the long-lasting grip of desire works when you do not act upon the desire, but allow the desire to remain perpetually.
Therefore, (a great leap in my argument) humanity has not moved on, because 'there is nowhere to move on to'.
Despite my academic mentor claims that 'the illusion of desire has been lost', desire has more profound origins and perpetual implications and resonances that prevent 'desire' or 'illusion of desire' from being dismissed as 'lost' entirely. It is at its very core, a profound gap that is itself a filled space. It is where great imaginations, warped dreams, convincing illusions and perverse fantasies slide in and out without you acknowledging them. It is never easy to acknowledge them. Ultimately, production (to feed those desires) does not obliterate the process of desire. As long as there is one person who experiences the iron grip of desire, desire and the illusion of desire remain.
Is it not more about an impatient anticipation for a great event to occur and simultaneously wish that it fails ultimately, so that we can continue to hope and desire?
This observation is only made possible because of a recent earthquake that occurred in my life - a purely cognitive earthquake.
To put is simply, I would not have noticed this if I had not stepped out of my contemplative mode and radically denounced my commitment to a desire. In so doing, the radical step returns me to the precedent step of landing myself deeply into a gap called passion. This return, is only to realise that I never made any leaps and progress to filling up this gap of desire and passion. Ultimately, it also made me realise that desire and passion are not what I need. And this return is a return before that unknown, enigmatic but familiar moment when you fall for someone, without reason.
she teared behind me. after the hand was raised.
she walked ahead then. after the damage was done.
but that had a more profound implication than what I had expected then.
she climbed ahead of me. after the dare was given.
she smiled below of me. at the point of descending.
but the beating of the heart ascended faster than what my mind could understand.
so who is she at the bottom, standing, inside, filling that gap within me?
if desire is the gap, then what are you? Desire?
Perhaps, it is this uneasy tension between what is an iron grip of desire, and what is purely just you.
and if they clash, the knowledge of her and the imagination of her will collapse together into a misshapen form of desire and reverence
it is a reverence that places her at a position that no one has ever come close to. A position that I dare not venture into. Because I know it will prick when I do. A long course of inactivity, contemplation and just empty promises of leaving the periphery of her position.
But her sphere of influence extended beyond what I can handle.
I end up knowing so much about her only to realise that I equally know nothing about her.
there is an extreme melancholy at this revelation.
from what was just a simple nemesis and name calling, morphed into a complex patchwork of meanings I cannot defined and identified all at the same time.
they are all repetitions of a common theme. (repetitions of reminders of impossibilities)
there is a fiery furnace waiting to melt everything together but I cannot allow that.
I cannot stand close. too close and I will forget this feeling of familiarity and enigma.
when the two finally collide, i will reach a third area of ambiguity.
It has finally reached that stage. The return.
when feelings take their winter holiday and go into hibernation. I stand close after radically departing (returning) from the position.
she walked ahead then. after the damage was done.
but that had a more profound implication than what I had expected then.
she climbed ahead of me. after the dare was given.
she smiled below of me. at the point of descending.
but the beating of the heart ascended faster than what my mind could understand.
so who is she at the bottom, standing, inside, filling that gap within me?
if desire is the gap, then what are you? Desire?
Perhaps, it is this uneasy tension between what is an iron grip of desire, and what is purely just you.
and if they clash, the knowledge of her and the imagination of her will collapse together into a misshapen form of desire and reverence
it is a reverence that places her at a position that no one has ever come close to. A position that I dare not venture into. Because I know it will prick when I do. A long course of inactivity, contemplation and just empty promises of leaving the periphery of her position.
But her sphere of influence extended beyond what I can handle.
I end up knowing so much about her only to realise that I equally know nothing about her.
there is an extreme melancholy at this revelation.
from what was just a simple nemesis and name calling, morphed into a complex patchwork of meanings I cannot defined and identified all at the same time.
they are all repetitions of a common theme. (repetitions of reminders of impossibilities)
there is a fiery furnace waiting to melt everything together but I cannot allow that.
I cannot stand close. too close and I will forget this feeling of familiarity and enigma.
when the two finally collide, i will reach a third area of ambiguity.
It has finally reached that stage. The return.
when feelings take their winter holiday and go into hibernation. I stand close after radically departing (returning) from the position.
So now, it cannot be contemplation, desire or passion anymore.
Somehow, it's no longer allowed to be.
it is that silent quest to diminish.
like a shooting star
like a melting snowflake
like an invisible blown kiss
like a gift of death
like the morbid sensation that comes with a sweet kiss on bleeding feet
like the ending sentence of a short writing
they end with a next life awaiting them
and I am in a room,
with an ah pek me, a young twelve years old me and the recent me.
we stare at each other for a few seconds,
and they both ask me:
"How is the next village like?"
Somehow, it's no longer allowed to be.
it is that silent quest to diminish.
like a shooting star
like a melting snowflake
like an invisible blown kiss
like a gift of death
like the morbid sensation that comes with a sweet kiss on bleeding feet
like the ending sentence of a short writing
they end with a next life awaiting them
and I am in a room,
with an ah pek me, a young twelve years old me and the recent me.
we stare at each other for a few seconds,
and they both ask me:
"How is the next village like?"
you will know what I mean when no tears can drop for you too.
I leave with a last poem dedicated to this moment.
who's theme is it to believe,
a yesterday's ephemeral relief?
she did, she said, she believed
she does, she says and she still believes.
today's reference to yesterday is to make us smile or cry
whose prayers are there to keep her safe
a future's perpetual faith of hope?
she does, she says and she still believes
she will do, she will say and she will still believe.
tomorrow happens to make today worthwhile.
she is safe in His arms.
so everything she does is beautiful.
a yesterday's ephemeral relief?
she did, she said, she believed
she does, she says and she still believes.
today's reference to yesterday is to make us smile or cry
whose prayers are there to keep her safe
a future's perpetual faith of hope?
she does, she says and she still believes
she will do, she will say and she will still believe.
tomorrow happens to make today worthwhile.
she is safe in His arms.
so everything she does is beautiful.
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