- the ghost of you - year 2 -

[contest announcement!] (updated)

HUMAN+UNIVERSE will celebrate its 2nd Anniversary on the 19th of December. So I have this little competition to make the day extra special. Below you will see 9 images with random themes. They might have significance to me, you or anyone. They are not connected to each other but certainly they have something to do with me and what I like. It's all about us Humans and the Universe.

Your task, if you choose to accept it is:

[-] Choose a picture, or any number of pictures from the snaps below and write a short story ( 2 to 10 pages) based on it. It doesn't have to describe solely what the pictures are, just what it means to you.
[-] The story/ stories should be in ENGLISH only.
[-] The story can be of any nature, theme, form. You can roam the world, introduce different cultures, messages, characters, worlds even, but make sure its ORIGINAL!!!
[-] The rights, copyrights of the story will belong to the respective authors and be protected by Creative Commons.
[-] All the stories will be published in this blog: [GhostParticleProject] on the 19th of December 2006.

[-] The stories shall reach me before December 20th 2006 at [admin[@]ghostparticle.com] or [ghost_particle[@]yahoo.com] .

[-] Send in either a word file or a PDF format together with your name, screen name, blog url OR website url OR E-mail clearly written at the top of the story.
[-] Please also confirm your participation before December the 10th at the latest. This is to ensure I know what to expect in terms of volume and be prepared to handle the stories.
[-] The stories will be judged by a panel of judges from all over the world.
[-] The stories will be judged by their creativity, characterization (honestly, I don't know what that word means, made it up), flow, originality and it's impact. No matter what you write, I will still love you all :p But do make it the most amazing story you ever wrote.

And the carrot...that is the prize: 2 winners will be selected and each will receive A paperback fiction or non-fiction title of their choice mailed to them with no extra cost. Which means you will get the book for FREE right at your doorstep even if you live in Alaska. (2 winners because this is the 2nd anniversary, and it will increase according to the anniversary along the years.)

Here are the snaps:

[1] Cars Dashboard Display

[2] Fried Prawns

[3] My Room!

[4] Slow Shutter Snap of the City

[5] Limestone hill along the Highway

[6] Starbucks Sign

[7] Penang Ferry

[8] Lunch; Chicken Sandwhich

[9] I pimped my cell: Samsung D820

GOOD LUCK AND ENJOY WRITING!

Silent is the Future for the Cosmological Nomads

Today, I feel very afraid of the future. The consequences of my present actions, the rapid changes around me, the headless charging of the people around me to face an uncertain future. I cant stop wondering what tomorrow might be like, what if I did something different yesterday. I cant stop the flow of time, I cant stand outside the dynamics of the world, I cant make the wrong repent, I cant change anything of tomorrow. My actions and my feelings are just mindless ramblings in the fluid motions of humans, time and the cosmos. I don't tend to be God but for the ability to discern the passage of time, the very direction of us, I am God as you are God. But in between all that, for the ability to predict, for the millions of unexpected outcomes, there comes us with a mortal heart feeling every bit of pain and suffering of people. Their glossy eyes embalmed with tear as they hide their deepest regrets, their love for the ones they care much, they hide the deep void in their chest pressing inside like the ripples of the black hole because they cant change anything.

From the ripples of the heart are released energies stronger that the ripples of gravity fields because we are humans, we know feelings and we cant do anything about it. Helpless and dying every second because among us, they don't listen, they wont change in our direction because everyone has a tiny bit of freedom to seek, to unshackle the morbid chain rings of destiny from imaginary arms and legs. There are they who wont want to be stuck in our time, for they have lost the motivation of me, of you. There are men forbidden from the future, because they were not born in the future. I don't see why the prejudice of the new century must break hearts, seeing silent tears from majestic beauties who gave birth to us, and still we cant do anything.

Silence around me as everyone looked at each other trying to figure an answer. No I did not kill him, God, he lives for a purpose to guide us. No I did not kill him, Einstein, he gave purpose for the purpose. No we did not kill legends because we want to be them, we killed them because we don't want them to become us. We are strange creatures of time, not habit, we are lost in time because we let loose the frozen futures, the tech-no-lo-gy and the science on the unsuspecting masses who were just opening their eyes for that sunrise at the far distant edge of the cosmos.

Silence, once again, silence and she cried. Not this time, no I cant do anything. I'm just a ageless rock. And he cried, and they cried and all I could do is crawl into my cocoon and wrap the particles around me, electrons and protons, and live the silence. I walked away, knowing they would die and nothing could be changed. It has happened, what was supposed to happen because we walked away. Destiny has smiled, I am still hiding. I am afraid of the future.

-gp2006-EndTimes2-

[+] They cant change anything, however they try, we are not cosmological nomads, we are just lost.

Something for Mr.Ghost

[+] I did not kill the cat.

[+] All the single kids in the family, please do tell me how good is your life because I'm starting to hate my brothers.

[+] Had a massive seafood dinner yesterday at the fishing village and only remembered to snap some pics after gobbling up the food. The baked prawn was awesome, drop by sometime and you have a treat waiting! How did your weekend go?


[=] Here is da link to da photo album from da past. [LinkLinkLink] :p

Silentium Dei, Centuries

the first lights came alive
a season awakens in its dawn
the younger days of me
and you and the rest of us
as the tiny dews sparkled
grand rich golden diamonds
rays of rainbow from tiny tips
of the tallest grasses among the
fields and the generous rays
flooded the carpets of maroon
grasses discolored such
as in dreams of tomorrow
when we will wake up
for a century of wiseness
of borderless humanscapes
and eternal liberty

the first ships reached orion
humans left earth ages ago
leaving behind dreams of years
and days of carefree
we dared not to defend
the dying earth and failing waters
and winds and fields and rain
the stillborn baby's empty words
just like the dead corpses
strewn along the beaches and rivers
and fading memories of trees
mountains and valleys abandoned
like schools of death after
the great wars and centuries of
atomic visions clouding the
pristine eyes and crimson minds

-gp2006-end days-

[-] The End Days series, celebrating the closure of another year, and the dawning of another uncertain year. Started this with a SF poem.

God Bless Us All.

Greener Bucks

Isn't it ironic that the best drink at Starbucks is the Green Tea!

A Brush History

[update] The toothbrush was found, bruised and broken! My house mate is maintaining his innocence and wanted me to blame the rats, which I have never seen in my apartment. And I have not been drunk enough for the past 27 years to break things. This is truly weird. Gave it a proper send off, now using one of its cousins; B. Rest in peace toothy. Will miss all the fun we have these months...

Ok! This is not funny anymore...WHO took my toothbrush?!!!

Søren Kierkegaard

I'm bored, as usual, stuck in the office coz its raining! Hence, today we visit the celebrated Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard. He is also credited to be the first existentialism philosophers. Some of his gems;

Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards

The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly one you can never have

My depression is the most faithful mistress I have known - no wonder, then, that I return the love

There are, as is known, insects that die in the moment of fertilization. So it is with all joy: life's highest, most splendid moment of enjoyment is accompanied by death.

[+] Soren Wiki

[+] Soren WikiQuote

[+] Existentialism Wiki

If I Could Change the World

Segunda-feira Boa friends! Another Monday, another work week starts! Probably...

... you would have faced an insane Monday traffic today on the way to work

... your equally insane boss is breathing down your neck on that report

... had to delete a few thousand spam mail

... accidentally read this crap: 'As a matter of fact, one of the reasons a child gets himself injured is to make his parents realize they have responsibilities for the family' on the Scientology site

... watched pretty boy shorty marry a girl half his age after having a baby, (urghh this orthodox upbringing is killin me!)

... wondered why SAP consultants make monstrous amounts of money doing less than a quarter of the work you do...

STOP wondering! There is a way out of this monotonous cycle of life! Denounce everything today for eternal bliss. Join me on this joyous occasion to celebrate CHOCOLATE CAKES n ICE CREAMS! Yes my good friends, there is nothing more fulfilling that chocolate cakes, no shortcut to happiness but ice creams. What are a few thousand calories for days of carefree fun and frolicking with creamy chocolate and ice cream melting and mingling in a holly union in your mouth! Hallelujah!

YAH! YAH! YAH! YAH! PROST! CHEERS FOLKS! YAH! YAH! YAH! YAH! YAH! YAH!

Rebellions in the Rice Century

No body said life was fair. Nothing of the seconds and minutes, even months and years promise an easy ride.

But some does have it all happening. The bounty that life presents, the opportunity savored to the last drop. Every step they take, their path leads to glory and recognition. They lie their way through life, portraying curves of elegance, appear to control life by its tiny strands of fate and destiny and rewrite history to rival the greatest stories ever told.

Then there are some strangers, the offspring(s) of a political generation, and the lost kids of the war age. They are the enigmatic geniuses, the passionate blind lovers and good friends. They are not so lucky; they don’t have the path cleared for them and extravagant(s) of rice and curry waiting every evening. They don’t face surprises ever often; they live a monotonous existence waiting for that thin silver line on a rainy season.

How these two extremes meet head to head in life could be the greatest mysteries of life.
How they gather and live together, how heart breaks and euphoria mingle and love each other, blind to one another’s pain.

Believe and trusts are the true passions of life. If you hold on to it, till the very last breath your soul will be dignified, your hunger justified to the very crevices of eternity. Every cell in you will be flooded with energy, bursting with love for you have something to live for, and the principles etched deep into you to stand for it. What the rebellions of these two extreme lives don’t tell is how the lost kids never achieve another pivotal point in life, happiness.

What in my opinion the most important step we take in life is when we create that strong bond of friendship, finding soul mates and day light warriors to face the days of certainty and uncertainty. I wanted life to be such, to be filled with thrills of friendship, the kind seen on TV, the kind that everyone lives of sometimes. Why couldn't it happen everyday? We have expectations in life to go forward and do our best, and some are better equipped. Some are in a better position to pull us up, call it their duty, but in reality it’s just another divine contract between two souls to pull each other up while climbing that tall ladder. Every achievement after that are the surprises of life, the vagaries that time prepares for us.

Do tell me, am I dreaming a perfect life? Can’t we expect out friends to hold on, wait for us to catch up? Or even if they have to go ahead, to lend us a helping hand just at the right time because they are wiser in life? Cant we expect that small advice when they see a chance waiting or an opportunity, be it for only one person, because they can gauge who can do it better and then accommodate the other in due time? What do we must really expect then?

The faraway rain clouds seems never to come near. Through the blinder, the rain falls incessantly from a clear sky, but all those are illusions. The mind wants to forget the dark, for what it presumes evil. The heart wants to love the cold breeze. Through the misty jungles as far as the eyes can see, the rain creeps and sways in the turbulent wind, and the windows are covered with mist, with tiny eccentric raindrops carving straight but micro chaotic paths down to the open atria with miniature palm plants and Zen garden stones.

Lightning and thunder, paint grander Van Gogh’s on the northern skies, as the last of the blue birds flies to its now soaked nest covered only by a few strands of leaves. Just like life, nothing grand, always presenting the bare necessities to be used just at the right time. The centuries of rain poured non stop as the paddy fields unfurled on the eastern flat lands. The western hills are covered with staggered boxes of houses looking more and more like limestone hills cut to build some magnificent temple for God's who haven't given their verdict for millions of years. The village stood still in the slates of time and rain.

The rebellion started in the mind of one boy, he grew up in the fields, and he saw the sacrifices of the people to live another day. He saw many excel in learning scriptures and leave the village but he was there picking and choosing through life for the best of everything. He picked the best paddy seeds, planted them then from the rice he sorted the golden ones as provisions for the future. On the southern plains lay thousands of more hills with villages and around them paddy fields and in those communities are boys and girls rebelling against the deceits of time.

Waiting for opportunities to come won’t take us to the next level of life. People are nice to us, but they are not honest. No friend will give up his dearest possessions for another friend in need because the needs and passions of life are more powerful than any camaraderie. The bonds, locked hands and fiery fists in the face of destiny are all masks to fool the sages of fate.

We are responsible to take the next step because it’s our legs that we command. There might be helping hands; great minds of teachers who guide us, but at one point of time you must realize, look around you and you are alone. That's the rebellion of time and age against us. And at that time, the dearest people who you have hoped for this long will feel not obliged to look back at you, or lend a helping hand because a wiser mind will arise that may dawn him or her. That wiser mind is you. You are destined to take over the future, steal the thunder for others because every man is truly an island first, bridges are artificial. The mysteries of life will unravel slowly in time.

But in between this chaotic life, the percolation of words and actions, there are a few good ones. Those who don’t feel threatened by time and the dawn of the new age. I am still waiting for them, for one of them. Have you found yours?

One For The Road

True alas that you got your freedom. Somebody passed on, and you got your freedom. But how do you justify your life (mis)using this freedom with revelry till the heavens go to sleep. How do you answer the prayers for you, that you change your will, where is your consciousness? Justify this or forever be silenced. Your thoughts doesn't reflect the people you so staunchly protect, because you are just a piece of rubbish like everybody else. Requiem.

[-] Reply ye who feels the fire, or forever be silenced.

North Season III

White pearl garlands hung intertwined in black hair, just before it danced trough the rain like it has seen tomorrow, and the hand and fingers raised circulating the light rays, combing through the air collecting particles of luminescence and the feet traces beautiful imaginary images on the wooden floor as the hands clap and eyes sparkle from her smile to them as she turns and turns to create symbolic flower petals through her meticulous movements planned to perfection just days before and now she dances to them as they smile and chatter quietly complimenting of her beauty and she smiled and marvels at their admiration which are more than what anyone would want for the dances are now getting slower and she changes her steps and her arms drops down as she plays with her eyes, creating and singing with her blue diamond eyes which held them in time unmoving mesmerized as she floats above the floor and their imaginations crumpled to defeat seeing how focused she is. A warm breeze came invading from the open window as she continued to float above the floor as if they had not enough of magic she suddenly released rays of light from her fingers as she floats even higher and caught his eyes sitting at one corner of the room peeking silently. She saw much love in those eyes, and immediately all of the spectators disappeared and she came face to face with him and held out her hand. He laughed, still eyes locked to hers as he got up and held her close to him. and his arms now around her hips and her arms over his shoulders as they danced to that solitary music but this time the spectators did not appear. She blanked them out and closed her eyes as he kissed her on the forehead and smelled the jasmine petals on her hair and the invading rays of light stood in unison enveloping them and the windows glowed with changing images of a sun setting, mountains surrounded in mist, birds flying in unison, clouds returning to their homelands and rain dropping in slow motion. The as the day continues she lets go of herself, her will and want to dance is no more and she waits there at the corner of the room gazing out as he hold her arms and plays with his fingers and kisses her neck she turns with her soulful smile and they kissed to the waiting night. For one little moment they kissed then a thousand more moments unfolded as they embraced through the day not knowing the changing season, like the dark forest of wood and withering leave and blossoming flowers and honey bees who come out after a cold winter to find more of everything beautiful and less of something evil, so the masterly humans gave birth to little joys of their imagination and creation. Nothing was missing, with enough pomp and grand celebration marks their dances and illuminates their divine union in the holy house of God when they looked back to remember it was a year back and a day not soon as they don't want to be separate of love. Their touches even a day old would imprison her senses for a year and he would drug his minds into depression for missing her if not for that union and they would make love everyday for days and months and the cold winter passes to the melancholic spring as it as the only time the flowers were much grander than her. So sparkles another soul to life and another life continues.

[-] Traveling the landscape of life and thought. The will of all human is to go forward, to find perfection and to live the life. For one wanting of a love, we are ever willing to sacrifice the dreams of our own to share the dreams of another. So when the solitary girl danced to first the eyes of her parents then to her friends and then to the world, the boy waited patiently.He build his own stage for the spectators but did not actually perform. Then the girl notices the boy and the world melts away, as they fell in love. As one dream ends another was born and their lives continue.
[+] North Season I, North Season II

A Swedish Sunday

(the adventures of lazy thrill seekers on a rainy Sunday with a Swedish babe!)

Had this nice chance of living a Swedish Sunday with my senior and trusted sidekick (or am I his sidekick?!). Started of with a shot of vodka-orange juice for breakfast. (yeh...i'm getting wasteeedddd to often these days). Drove to Ikea for some succulent Swedish Hot Dogs! (that sounded weird...please erase everything from your mind!). While Volvo is a masterclass, I don't like Ikea very much. You have this feeling that the normal furniture stores has better variety and bargaining options. Or it could be that the Ikea store in Malaysia really sucks. One thing thats good about Ikea though is the colors! The furnitures and other materials are vivid and simple, but not enough to rekindle any memories or leave lasting ones. Spent a few hours there separating stuff from China and the rest of the world till we found out nothing much are left after that! I bought some FNISS pen holders (red, white and black) to get the parking coupon stamped for free. Good for that Ikea, I think more local stores should think in the same line. Even Tesco and Carrefour offer free parking. The IKEA Exit Cafe is a heaven for Swedish Hot Dog lovers. All of the 3 restaurants on the store offer a variety of Swedish traditional foods. Pity I cant eat the meatballs, but the hot dog itself is simply superb.

Realized yesterday there are so many good things about Sweden, most notably their babes! Her sleek sultry body, well build features, dressed in her finest makes any outing a memorable one. Not until you drive one...okay I'll stop here. Everyone knows about Volvo! A magnifik Swedish engineering, identifies instantly as being the safest car in the world, the experience is simply out of this world. Have you had a Volvo experience?

Ended the lazy thrill seeking (driving around in the car) with a trip to the central park equivalent of KL, home to the largest covered bird park in da whole wide world; The KL Bird Park. Didn't get to see any birds, it was raining but got this great snap. It's amazing to see how the artificial blend with the organic world. (More snaps in my Flickr)
Closure. So what does Sundays signify? Mostly I spend my Sundays worrying about Monday and the start of the dreaded work week. Honestly its a dreadful feeling thinking that the only truly free day of the week goes past so fast that you'll be back in office staring at the bloody pc in no time. Sundays should be spent remembering things, stuffs that you miss most and things you want to do. Just freak out, don't plan and head NORTH! Thats right, go back to the roots! (or izzit South?). Sundays during school days were routine, my school had a Sunday to Thursday week. So Saturdays were spent watching Saturday Morning Cartoon and making sure the school shoes dries! Not to mention to 'paint' some chalk (school shoe polish) so that the shoe looks pretty at least a few hours on Sunday, just to get through the assembly (before some ass comes and steps on it...arrghhh traumatic memories). As the days goes past, and years eats away your life, these weekend adventures become more official, weddings, festivals, movies and of course sleeping late. Gone are the Sundays, maybe its just the right time to bring back those nostalgic classic Sundays. Lets get back to that true meaning of a Sunday.

How did your Sunday go?

[-] Next week I'm planning a Japanese Sunday. Care to join me? Just pick a country you like and experience a Sunday going to places related to it!.
[+] Yesterday was Remembrance Sunday. God Bless the Lives of everyone who departed in an unjust past for reasons beyond our control.

The History Of The Paddy Field Boy(s)

Received a super tag from Velu sar which is to
[1] Write 8-10 things about your childhood ( 1-12 years) that you miss.
[2] Write 8-10 things that you disliked about your childhood.

Something about history that would never let us go, that would never let us forget and certainly never let us 'go back'. So this is a strange life that we live in, thinking that all the best times have sailed past, every day wishing for that single happy day in school, the day of the first love or the day of the first kiss. And before that, there were only stories, innocent and majestic.

So I powered up the trusty ol' time machine, packed some Lays and Root Beer, got my sweater and went for a trip to the grand 80's...

8 things about my childhood that I miss most...

1. The very first day I gained consciousness. I know this sounds weird, but I can only look back to that one single day that I am aware of being alive and it is clearly in my mind, as I woke up that morning to see the sun beams creep to the walls and floor of the room through the window with metal bars and out side the reflection of the beams on the tree tops and leaves were just as fresh in my mind. And from that day onward I woke up to that very same setting for years to come.

2. My adventures to that lake. When I was 4 years old I went jogging with my dad through this jungle path then we came to a great big lake with white ducks (which ofcourse looked like big swans when you are small!) and hundreds of beautiful lotus flowers. It was like a setting from a movie, I have never seen a place so beautiful like it before. The lake now is in the middle of a housing estate and is not as nearly beautiful as it was back then.

3. On Deepavali mornings I always would wake up at 4 or 5 am to wait for my uncles from the big city. Everyone would be asleep and I would be in the hall along with whatever ghosts around at that time waiting and just waiting to see my cousins. The priceless moments come when they arrive and I dont utter a single word to anyone until they leave a week later. Memories...

4. The mango trees. We had so many mango trees around the house that sometimes I become so sad thinking of the ugly environment we live in now. There was always a tree that I would climb and sit forever watching people pass by the roads around the house, throw young mangoes on the tin roof of the house and wait for grandma to run out scolding me, eat all the unripe mangoes I can and then get this lesions around the mouth because of its highly acidic(?) milk, try to build a tree house and pluck fruits for the neighborhood kids. Nowadays I get the jitters climbing the stairs to my office or apartment...

5. To the Circus School! I did not cry on the first day of school simply because I think I was dumbfounded by the hundreds of kids around me crying, running around, fighting, shouting... The teachers never let parents into the class, during recess or the assembly after our registration and there was all this kids running around acting weird and me being the ultimate shy dude (a ghost particle then itself) would just stand under a tree or at one corner of the buildings and watch people! So came one kid who just beat the hell out of me on my 2nd or 3rd day and after that I brought my grampa to report to the teacher. The boy was canned (when canning was still legal in schools) in front of the class, and from that day onwards till I was in standard 5 the dude still bullied me. Yes, I had a traumatic schooling life but I loved every bit of it because I used to have a small gang with me who would just hang out being guys. We had the most fun the and I wish to relive every moment of it.

6. 'He said he wants to be a scientist'. The first time I saw Beyond 2000 (the science show) on TV with grandpa was a special occasion. All those people talking the language I cant understand and then after the show he would explain to me all those stuff they did. I watched the show religiously for years to come and still do it on the Discovery Network. So one day I asked him a supermost great question, " how does striking a matchstick causes fire?" and he explained more and more stuff that was gibberish then and said the scientist made it (he pronounced 'saai - yan - tea - iis') and the I went around the whole week telling everyone I want to be a scientist. Grandpa would tell everyone who comes to the house that I want to be a scientist. All that was pure magic. Later when I entered secondary school everyone wants to be an engineer or an accountant or a doctor or a lawyer and there were no 'saaiyanteaiss' anymore around. I miss my grandpa alot.

7. The Family. Nearly all my uncles and aunties lived with us in grandpa's huge wooden house last time. It was very nice being the eldest grandson in the family and everyones attention is on me. So anything I do will somehow create immediate fan following from a lot of people because they want my grandpa to know that they are treating me nice. This big family went through everything from marriages to births and deaths together, and I could still remember the laughter and cries. On the days nearing Thaipusam when the whole family will build beautiful Kavadis for my uncles and we will stay at the temple during the festival operating a small food stall and watching the procession together. It brought immense happiness just knowing there are always people around us together not showing their sorrow for a greater purpose of staying as a family. I dont know how else to describe it. People change, now the house is sold and everyone is living far from each other.

8. The sun and the moon. How do we see the world when we are small? Try running around the house to reason day and night, to feel the cold rain and at the same time bath in hot water. Drink hot coffees and wait for the ice-cream man on a bicycle selling what now would be primitive ice cream. The nights that were cold and sleeping with amma or grandma fanning me not knowing how that fan creates 'coldness' or watching the blades of the fan spin and disappear into a single round 'thing'. Electricity, fridges and irons. Then the food which tasted so good, and we feel so content because we are being fed by the hands that raised us that cooked day and night for us. For all the stars in the sky that I peeked at afraid it might fall to the day I stood there for minutes and hours asking questions to grandpa of what it was. It was, everything was me. Our childhood are 'us' because we made everything to be mysterious. Then we touched each of them from the trees to the plants to the lovings eyes of our mothers to know what they were. Then the days we gave name, we met people and we learned how thing works. The days when the sun rises and moon rises are the days of innocence. There are no days of innocence now.

8 things I wished never crossed into the best memories of my childhood...

1. The cane and the hand. I used to be a nice kid, then the solitary path that I choose (not wanting to talk to anyone) caused me to turn into a snob and then a naughty kid who seeks to disturb and destroy more than be nice. (all this when I was 5 years old). So the results are the same every time and the feeling are the same every time that I remember being beaten or slapped because I did something terribly wrong because truly I did not know what I did. That is one thing no parent should do to their children, but there was no other reasoning in the 80's I guess.

2. The circus school monkeys. As I said before school was both nice and painful. It was nicer more, and would have remained so if not for the little pests that made everyones life hard by complaining to the teacher or beating me up. I wish to beat them all up now if I see them again. I dont know...the last I heard one of the denise the menace cousin became a police Inspector! Ahhh...there are so many things that I wish to change!

3. The car and the bike. Some of the moments I dreaded most nearing the end of my primary years were when my wealthier relatives come home and brag about their overseas vacations and how their kids are becoming doctors and such. I hate them so much and I still hate them. Dad had only a bike till I was 16.

4. The red army. My mango tree memories would have been the ultimate adventures if not for the red leaf cutter ants. For the years I was the king of the trees to the days when I stopped climbing trees when I got fat, my only enemies were them bad bad bad ants! I used to have scars on my legs because of them and every time it itches I will be reminded of ants. I was even scared of ants for a while.

5. Tears. Any child who grows up learning things can only take small doses of emotions. I cried alot when I was a kid, I cried for everything from ant bites to bad dreams. There were times I would suddenly wake up at night because of a nightmare and everyone will rush in and I would be so afraid theyll scold me because I went into the jungles again that I would say an insect bite me or I fell from the bed. It was so hard finding the reason even now why I could cry for the smallest perturbations while some deaths will make me a stone.

6. The white walls of good and bad. I was dead afraid of hospitals and clinics. I would run away when they want to take me to the group hospitals for fever or anything. I would hide or make a scene so that they will just leave me alone. Even during the times when we walk past the hospitals I would close my eyes.

7. Ghost Stories. Every time my cousins come back they will bring with them treasures of far away ghost stories. How I envy American kids who talk about sex and girls :p So being the ghost then was not being the brave ghost that is. I would be dead scared of their stories but then walking away from the story telling sessions would be tantamount to hating them. The days when I have the cousins I don't like come would be dreaded days because I cant sleep at night and until I'm 16 I slept with the lights on.

8. Withering Leaves. The one thing I hate most of my childhood is seeing people leave. When I was very very small my great grandpa who gave me my name passed away. I never met him but my grandma said he passed away when I was 1 year old. Then as the years goes past alot of people in my life went through changes that I cant understand and started leaving to chart their own course. As much as I missed the days we were a large family together, those days lasted only until I was 8 or 9. And together with them leaves the memories and legacies. I hate to left wandering who was my real teacher and why I was not able to be the same as I was before, now, to them. The withering leaves takes home more than the rays of light and moonshine, it takes with it the faces of us that once reflected on its glass surfaces.

And that was my list of 8 + 8. Hope you liked it, please do this tag if you want to because it certainly brings back memories warm and nice.

The Train Journey

This journey
forever winding through hills
sometimes crossing mountains
the mighty engine gracefully pulling
coaches of man, children and woman

This train
loves this journey
unknown to the dreaming passengers
and particularly wide eyed children
looking out to the deep valleys

This morning,
as the sun rises faraway
above a mountain covered in mist
like a streetlight on a day of rain and fog
I awoke to the soft sunbeam
and the song of morning birds

This moment,
i try hard to describe
to picture this instance in time
of a beautiful image in a distance
momentarily forgetting the fogged window
i see lights among the trees
of fireflies and rubber tappers
in silent unison with nature

This train,
brought memories of days
both happy and cold from a decade
of old people and young happy people
they’re on the same journey
on a rusty old path just like me
maybe happy maybe sad

This life,
of joyful people
of tears and raindrops on the window
a morning shower in the gray jungle
i wish everyone is awake
sharing this stunning moment
of rain, sun and a bottomless valley

This journey,
will end in a day almost
but my eyes and my mind still lost
among the dissolving green leaves
vaguely i remember my mission
my future as the journey ends
will start in a land of new
but this is a perfect sending
a perfect journey
of an overnight train...

-Gp 2005- 3/5/05-

[*] This is a repost from last year. I'm completely 'blogpost braindead' now. Please leave your comments. This poem tells of my journeys leaving my hometown to a new future, the journeys that I have been making for the past 7 years. Strangely I've never taken the train for these journeys.
[-] Its only when you read back all the old posts that reminds you of inexperience, of genius, of the wantings and of memories you wish to forget. Honestly, its a weird feeling. Just find your very old posts and read it...

6 to 7: A College Odyssey

Some snaps from my university a few days back, it was late evening. Sometimes I wonder why I never really appreciated the surroundings of my univ when I was studying there. Every time I return, during the evenings when the sun sets or after rain, the majestic rain forest looks more like stories from a epic novel rather than real. Imposing and powerful, standing out against the concrete relics, each tree, leaf and flower emanating voices. Brave voices that we can see rather than hear. Beautiful and momentous.

Ein Tribut bis Oktober Fest

Bis folgende Jahr...Prost Völker!
(Till next year...Cheers Folks!)

[+] 4 years ago I was planning a trip to the WC2006 or OktoberFest, but neither happened. So celebrated da festival in a German Pub near my office. 'The Deutsches Gasthaus Little Hemingway' is a nice little pub with good deco of all things German and some weird Spanish posters and they served tapas...do they have tapas in Germany?...what the heck were those things doing there?! Anyways the beer was really good and I mean Really Good!