on repeat...

In the midst of it all, what does strike me is how the physical laws of nature is at work, namely that of Isaac Newton’s law of action and reaction.

On hindsight, there is only one thought that does reiterate itself on repeat mode like a broken down radio and running at the speed of light, making it impossible to chase, let alone actually come to grasp with it. No answers, god knows why. Then again, no surprise there...

cause and consequence...

disaster...

punishment or a new beginning???

the chicken or the egg...

The recent shebang of the earthquake in the east and the behaviour of the varying reactions to it have certainly gotten me intrigued with its extremities of one end to the other. All in all, the mixed retroactions are definitely an eye opener.

There would definitely be those who feel strongly that those in the west are probably callously uncaring and cold with regards to this episode. Nevertheless, it is hard to fault them for the absence of knowledge despite it being quite an earthshaking, literally, catastrophe, fact being there is a genuine lack of true awareness in the western parts of the world. Not to say it is not reported in the usual media mediums, but rather, it does not quite hit the headliners every single day with running subtitles to report on the exponentially growing death and missing counts like in the Southeast Asian countries.

Having said that, one cannot deny that there is an actual lack of relevance, to an extent, to these parts of the world; what more if one actually considers the geographical distance, let alone the relation on a personal level. The only people who would affected the most, would be the Chinese who have left hometown for the pursuit of better prospects and life, and those who have family or someone close who happen to be in the areas of disaster.

In all honesty, if there were to be any sort of action taken, even if there is a want to render help for whatever reason, be it from the level of personal relation, basal human compassion, or good old political agenda, reckon it would be more likely to fall under the reason of the latter more. Conversely, if situations were to be turned around, it is more likely than not for the above to happen yet again in reverse situations, say Italy has an earthquake, countries in the United Nations would come running to the rescue, and the rest can be assumed to be highly similar when it comes to portrayal and level of importance of the event in the news and on ground level to the eastern counterparts.

On that note, it is relatively glaring on just how much the media plays a major part in affecting all the various reactions, and the influence it could have potentially. For one, there is the acclaimed actress Zhang Ziyi who is in a position to cough out a personal donation of $100 000 and is able to go around garnering donations from the rich and famous all around the world, as well as from the “little people”, and this is just based on her personal efforts. Then on the other hand, there are the collective masses of celebrities through joint efforts at the numerous fund raisers that have been popping up like a teenager’s bad day of acne, not that it is a bad thing for once since it is, after all, for a good cause.

More often than not, many have a tendency to forget the power of the “little people”, mayhap by how the by play of society goes. In retrospect, what is also forgotten is that those in affluent positions, particularly those placed on a pedestal with reference to that in the entertainment industry, can be and are there, aside from personal hard work and effort, because of the common folk. In short, we make them, we break them. An absolutely fascinating pyramidal relationship if you ask me; and in a strange roundabout way, comes to reminding me of the age old chicken or the egg question.

Of the two, which one is deem to be the more important element, the chicken, or the egg? Look at it the usual way, which of the two came first? Perhaps there is no relevance at all, though am progressively egged on to find that missing link of “how” and have all these tied together in a little neat package. Guess that is what makes me the addled dud as have yet to quite really figure that out down to a tee as yet. Looking back at how wordy this has been, that was quite a whole mouthful of two cents... oops...

torn...

torn...

with a twist...

absolutely... beyond words...

spring...

One knows that spring is abound when the neighbours' gardens are in bloom in a myriad of colour like a kaleidoscope, and the streets are vivid in tones of reds, yellows, and greens. Not to mention trippy bugs that fleet around only to land on your hand inconspicuously perhaps hoping to stop for a breath before hurrying off in a flurry. Everything that has been in hibernation in sleepy hallow in shady dull tones grey have certainly woken up.

The city is constantly a bustle of activity since daylight is in abundance, so much so it makes one wonder if the sun is suffering from hyperactivity. One can be looking at the start of sunrise by five in the morning, and still be seeing the dusky horizons of sunset, slowly but surely, dimming around eight past at night. Lights are finally out a little past nine.

The supposed good mood of the weather does definitely factor into the awakening of the town. Almost anyone and everyone find excuses to be out in the streets, be it to have a smoke, or to sip that cuppa coffee and hang out with friends for frivolous chitchat under humongous umbrella shades that only open up, just like the flowers, in the spring and summer. Even happy hour in bars are hyper extended, so it ain't a surprise to see a couple of guys downing a pint or two at two in the afternoon.

In the case you happen to be wondering if these people actually work, as you can probably see, that answer would, quite apparently, be a big fat no. In all honesty, it is best that one quickly learns to assume, and not expect anything to get done for the preservation of one's sanity around here. As the saying goes here, "the weather is too nice for work", literally. There is a follow up grand statement for that bit, something even the locals cannot help but say whilst rolling their eyes and shrugging their shoulders in exasperation. However, that shall be another tale, yet again, for another time.

That is spring for you, here at the very least.

intricate balance...

in search of that point of intricate balance... of equipoise and stability...

before the occurence of the agonizing inevitable...

an irrevocable fall into stony silence... and broken pieces...

losing it...

Some just want to live while they are alive and get by with each day. That is what me call the worker ant or worker bee life syndrome. Perhaps it would be more appropriately termed, and familiarly known as "the innate imperative for survival". It is extremely intriguing how all of us fall into such a pattern somehow, one way or another. On a personal note, really do find it suffocating as find that it renders me incapable much as do acknowledge that there is a sense of comfort in routine.

A continuous pursuit in the mainstream can only result in insanity eventually due to a lack of development. Put another way, it will be the age old adage of trying to squeeze a square peg into a round hole that would never really quite fit into those circular contours.

Maybe, there is just too much of a critical analysis going on here that would never really make sense. Either that, or there is too little physical evidence and statistics available to support the observation for it to make sense. Then again, there has to be a way to establish that connection without igniting some form of self destruction in the process.

Simply put, really think am just losing it.

Talk about structural unsound deformation. Despite the fact that it is high time for some serious reconfiguration, there is a hesitant reluctance to do so; because seriously, failure is not an option.

dreary days...

so many reasons...

so many ways...

feeling them all on those dreary days...

biting back painful tears wilfully running astray...

encapsulated in bittersweet idiocy of breakneck affliction...

peace and quiet...

There is something unnerving about peace and quiet, in my life at the very least. There certainly are not very much days of such, so much so when it actually happens, it is extremely unsettling; for it only foretells that of worse things to come, and there is no why, it just is.

Such serenity is so surreal, it can be said to be a chimeric concept. Optimists would definitely say that fantasy can exist as long as one has a little imagination. All it needs, is that spark of creativity to get it started off. This pessimistic cynic would probably spite that whimsical fancy notion by shooting it down with an ak forty seven first, such is my nature and natural instinct.

Peace and quiet? Not would be more like it.

mirror mirror on the wall...

Worth should never be defined by the expectations and standards set by others upon oneself. Worth ought to always be determined by the boundaries set by no other but oneself. Ironically, that never ever happens in real life.

It is indeed truly lamentable that one's self worth is often priced to be of so little value, as if its sole purpose in life is to be stepped on by every and anyone else like a damned welcome doormat at a doorstep. Funnily enough, more often than not, we put ourselves there even though we know we are going to shoot ourselves in the brain for condemning ourselves to such an eternity of doomdom.

What do you feel like the moment you wake up to a fresh new day? What do you see when you look in the mirror, or rather, who do you see in the mirror staring back at you?

There are those who look into it a million times a day, be it to check if there is a nose hair creeping steathily out from the nostril, or to see if there is a stray hair out of place from the carefully designed and structured coif hairsprayed into that particular set composition, or to scrutinize if that painted porcelain face is still immaculately flawless as was in the morning. It certainly makes me wonder if that is all they ever really see.

Then again, there comes a point where one just stops looking at that mirror. It could be from detesting that evil omniscient item that shows everything; or, it could be from despising what, or who is seen in that reflective object; or, even worse, it could be hating that there is an absence of an actual real reflection.

my favourite family routine...

Most people probably have their own routine family rituals, be it family days on good old family Sunday, or maybe some other day of the week when they are not too caught up in the rat race or their individual lives. There are also the family occasions such of birthdays and weddings to bring the family together. Well, not quite in my case with my daddy flying around a fair bit for work, mommy having to juggle work and taking care of granny with recent complications, brother not being around because he does not quite like sticking around in the house too much, and last of all, me being away for studies. Heaven forbid that it would be a funeral to see us all together next, touch wood.

Morbidity aside, guess it is also due to the absence of such a familiar pattern, that it makes me think long and hard about my favourite family routine. The initial thought that came to mind was Christmas since that is probably the only one family gathering in the whole year where the rsvp, for me, would be a yes for once. However, that did not quite fit the requirement and meaning of "family routine" sufficiently. Then the archaic idea of "boring dinners" struck. Only problem there, is that the number of dinners eaten together in a cozy foursome in a year can be counted within the scope of my ten fingers, and maybe if lucky enough, then my two feet can be added in the equation.

Nevertheless, there is one particular dinner, that can be said, in a roundabout way, to be my favourite family routine. That would be the farewell dinner each time before flying off for a long haul year of books and cheap scraps of eat ins in a little apartment in a land far away.

The farewell dinner could come in many forms, be it my favourite japanese of everything raw from the sea and from the land of the rising sun; or a fat slab of tenderloin, medium rare no less, in a nice steakhouse; or simple hawker fare of barbeque stingray and squid spiced up a thick slather of chilli; or a humble homecooked beef stew that mommy slaved over for hours; or an oriental feast of steamed promfret, prawns, roasted barbeque pork, and so much more, not to forget that gigantic bowl of lotus root peanut soup, if granny was well enough to whip up a storm in kitchen, let alone join us.

Dinner did and still does not need to be a fancy fanfare, although it is acknowledged that my parents do try their best to cater to my food palette preferences in hope for me to eat well and have that last good meal before my departure. The finicky foodie in me would probably attribute this as a reason as to why this would be my favourite family routine. The sentimental little kid in me would certainly say otherwise.

The dinner is normally a quiet affair, where it starts out with daddy saying a prayer for journey mercies and asking for blessings in my studies before we all tuck in. It is also one of the rare few times in a year where the four of us would definitely be seated at the same table breaking bread so to speak. Even if it were to be with granny and the rest of the family, it would still be no rowdier than if it were to be just the four of us. Not that we did not have much to catch up or say to each other; on the contrary, it is more of a comfortable ease where showing love was in whispery moments of scooping an extra helping of fish, or peeling a prawn and unobtrusively sliding it at the corner on the plate, or lovingly subdued gentle words of "eat more".

Of course, the all delectable after dinner dessert cannot be missed out on after the scrumptious dinner. Despite the fact that mommy hates me to snack on anything classified under the category of "junk" in food, there is, however, one permitted evil in the icebox, guess that is to cater to both our sweet tooths. There would always be a heavenly pint of ice cream hidden around someplace behind all the tupperware of frozen meats and foods, waiting to be discovered and paired with a tempting side of freshly cut luscious strawberries.

Evidently, all good things must come to an end, very sadly, this is no exception to the rule. In the midst of fond recollection of all the varying family occasions, farewell dinners certainly has got to top the list for my favourite family routine. Being in my concurrent position as the poor struggling student, it is impossible for me to give my family back in kind for all they have done for and given to me.

In spite of it all, if it were in my means to give my loved ones the world, of which they only had to ask, really would do just that, that much is for sure. It is my personal goal to be able to, one day, some day, bring the family to share the sights and sounds of the seven wonders of the world. For now, hopefully there would be a potential opportunity to bring them to see and smell the seven wonders of the little island that have come about with the city's development on my getting back, provided there is a shot at winning that great family day out first. Oh well, cross my fingers, hope to die.

troubled waters...

still waters run deep... unfathomable... inscrutable beyond the eye can see...

the calm of water an elusive enigma...

the surface ripples... transitioning... rhythms in precipitous transpositions...

stirring waters... waking from their abysmal depths...

a brewing storm in the remote horizon... the shift of winds a zephyr of transmogrification...

a subfusc opacity... a myriad of permutations...

the tormented visceral mind... the condemned inner soul...

caught in the unpredictable undertone...

headed up and on... for troubled waters...

major malfunction...

all systems down...

major malfunction...

technical repairs and reconstruction concurrently in progress...

birth...

A catch up with another girlfriend today, after one heck of a drought of no news, was quite a turn of the tables from the usual gloom and doom. Firstly, came to know that she got married just last December at the registry in a little family setting. She is temporarily forgiven for forgetting to update me on this bit since have yet to miss her wedding dinner, of which am told will be soon. Fat hint in view as know she will be reading this, underline "soon"! Another gentle, albeit not so very subtle and rather obscene if might add, reminder that it would be preferable if the wedding could be during my summer holiday period so that am actually able to attend. Second up, and quite a huge piece of news to boot, she has got a little bundle of joy on the way due in September. Talk about a double whammy in the news headline, mine at least.

In any case, it was just really heartwarming to be able to share her joy with her, especially after the recent ongoing dealings with good old friends illness and death, one fancies it would have been quite a welcoming relief to have a smidge of life and birth. Please pardon if this cynic does not quite have the mouth corners curling up in a dimply smile, not quite up to such an exercise for now. Never been quite the ardous believer of "sunshine after the rain", guess have my penchant with this little thing called "bad luck" to thank for that.

In retrospect, it does put a spin on things, what more with the death count growing exponentially with the earthshattering quakes in China. In spite of the fact there is such ongoing disaster and destruction out there, ain't quite really affected by it. Few possible factors could attribute to this bizarre occurrence of cold indifference, namely the lack of humanitarian sympathy, empathy and even decency maybe from being overtly affected by personal circumstances, the absence of personal attachment, or just the plain detachment from self, literally, from being absolutely overwhelmed by sheer haplessness.

Nonetheless, such an event is a pointed reminder and question as to the road of choice that is being walked. Another one such episode was on my way back here on the ride. It was certainly a first for me to hear an emergency announcement onboard in the air for the need for a physician. Just at that split second, there was an overpowering urge to get out of my seat to offer any sort of assistance. The impotence, sense of failure and discontentment that came just immediately after was just as, if not more, staggering. Talk about a shot to the head. A moment, just, point blank.

At that very juncture, nothing else really mattered. It was just inefficacy staring right back at me.

After all, at that very point of time, what could a medical student do and have to offer in the face of such, possibly, dire circumstances? Realistically speaking, zilch.

In all honesty, it still is. It is a neverending struggle to chase, what many others termed, a "pipe dream". Neither ingeniusly propitious, brilliantly gifted, nor naturally hardworking, it is little wonder why they were always telling me to get my head out of the clouds.

Nevertheless, it is in all of such consequential times and incidents of birth, life, illness and death that drives my resolve to desperately want my dream, and make that aspiration a reality in hope to effect something better; and just do and achieve so much more, more than this at the very least.

The irony in life, is how the existential sarcastic cynic who is relatively close to being a staunch believer of Sorcrates' stoicism and all things bad and grossly morbid in sadism, masochism and the likes, is also, somewhat, a daydreaming idealist waiting for the unconceivable... for unthinkable miracles to happen...

beauty in simplicity...

The precociousness of a child often leaves me bewildered.

Innocence and purity is just so precious, it is tremendously fragile.

All of that and more in the voice of an angel, genuinely priceless.

The ingenuous clarity brought me down to my knees, and tears to my eyes.

There is indeed much beauty in simplicity...

to be... or not to be...

Had abit of a catch up with a girlfriend to find out how she is and to see if am able to check out what is wrong when heard how she has not been quite her usual self. This is the girl who embraces all things good and wholesome, and is the advocate for true happiness. Many would think it is unthinkable and impractical in this modern day and age for such a Pollyanna to exist. In all truth, it is utterly refreshing to have such a delightful sprite around.

Due to the little clause of "private and confidential" under the Hippocratic Oath, and my personal policy of being the "human swiss bank account" to girlfriends, am only able to sum it up that she is torn in between two significant loves that hold substantial weightage in her life. Very sadly, she is carrying an immense chunk of a burden, while simultaneously struggling to find the point of equilibrium for both her loves to coexist in harmony. My only worry and fear in all this, is her losing herself in the midst of this period of floating. That ain't exactly music to my ears unfortunately.

In retrospect, ideally and logically, in a figurative sort of way, the state of equilibrium is technically possible. There is probably some mathematical theory or scientific speculation where this whole chunk of a situation could be boxed into to deduce and infer some plausible sort of ratiocinative solution. Realitisically, think it has been proven more than once, on more than one account, that emotion never did quite run the path of usual and normal, let alone rational and reasonable.

Having said that, if she does ever read this, just want her to know that she ain't alone, and that totally comprehend how she feels. By some funny quirk, some one up there did happen to make this kooky oddball quite the alien. So if she does not mind, she is more than welcome anytime to hop onto my spaceship and we can hover and float around together. Meanwhile, we will figure out a game plan as to how to conquer our personal Mount Everests. Much as the uphill climb is onerous and backbreaking, side by side hospital beds are inclusive of the package by the way. At the very least, you know you have company in the case of a fall. The only non permitted species on the spacecraft are the martians, pun intended.

Having that talk with her has somewhat put me into a serious contemplative mood. In all honesty, there ain't nothing wrong with a little deep reflection to put one back on track with life. The only problem, is how.

Many a time, that is a question that remains very much unanswered and quite the Pandora's box on its own. Other times, one gets on with it, only to land up right back at the very same crossroads, or end up at some other unconscionable farcical cross junction. That does make one wonder if the damn General Packet Radio Service, gprs in other words, function can start working already.

To be... or not to be... that is the question. Just how much would and can one go? That in itself, is another puzzling perplexity. Frankly, short of a Mensa genuius, really do not think any one could or would ever really figure it out. Either that, or the village idiot, or the three year old kid next door. It comes as no surprise that kids say the darndest things, some of which contains such profound wisdom it is absolutely mind boggling.

Love makes the world go around... Love can make one's world go upside down... Love makes a person go unsound...

It is the theme behind every, almost, note that strings up into a song composition, word that chains up into a story outline, movement that sequences and progresses into a dance choreography. When put in such a way, tough choice, or rather, tough luck. One can either love it, or well, hate it. Ironically, it inadvertently boils back down to the same thing, so much for options and free will...

filial piety...

To the above, all me can say is, guilty as charged for the lack of filial piety.

Having quite the wild ride on the guilt trip today. First up, ain't around for the girlfriend who is in a tank load of pain from the broken hand, bad enough. Second, was just reminded by my mommy that it happens to be mother's day today, and she had spent it with daddy, who just flew back in from Washington, having a tete a tete for two. She claims it is valid because daddy affectionately terms her "mommy", and vice versa. Right...

Unfortunately, just ain't in a position to do much, on top of not believing in mother's day's celebrations from all the commercialized hype and nonsense. Just feel really bad, make that extremely bad and beyond, that mommy cannot even have a decent family sit down because my brother decides to be an ass, and me, ain't even around. Little wonder why some say that a family dinner together is harder than striking the lottery. Truthfully, that statement ain't very far from reality, as given by the case study of this family, as am pretty sure for many others.

Good old Confucius advocated that filial piety is the first and above of all virtues one should have. Well, think am able to say that do try in all honesty. Nevertheless, there are times on reflection and contemplation that filial piety, for me at the very least, borders on blind loyalty; and when things go wrong, it is really not for the lack of trying, seriously.

In any case, while some lucky mothers out there are getting flowers, candy, sweet little cards of sappy expressions of love, there are others out there who do not have similar good fortunes of spending time with their kids. On hindsight, there is also the case of the poor kids who are in sorry states who would not have the privilege of sharing their innermost heartfelt wishes with their mothers. It certainly makes one cerebrate who is more deplorable, and why life is such a cruel joke.

Cliched as it sounds, but just like every and any other day can be one's birthday, valentine's day, father's day, and the list goes on, everyday is mother's day too as long as you love her, nagging and all.

Having said that, despite the fact that mother's day is overrated, loving one's mother ain't.

to my angel with a broken hand...

wishing it was possible for me to take that fall for you...

wishing it was possible for me to bear the pain for you...

wishing it was possible for me to be beside you...

wishing it was possible for me to hold and hug you...

wishing the one with the broken hand was me... not you...

late night walk...

the crackle of grey stony gravel and concrete beneathe my feet...

worries of you foremost on my mind...

tears of a midnight scare...

haplessness growing... a sickening feeling...

a silent wish... a fervent prayer in desperation...

words of old and rhyme...

starlight... star bright...

first star i see tonight...

i wish i may... i wish i might...

have this wish... i wish tonight...

wishing to take away your pain...

wishing to wipe away your tears...

broken...

an obscure cry of sorry from afar...

one that would... and could never be heard...

inexplicable tears...

unknowing fears...

a late night walk by dying moonlight...

it is not your day...

You know it is not your day... when you try to be helpful with the japanese classmate, only to end up with a sore throat, a roaring headache at the end of the tutoring session, and an accent ala japanese with anatomical body parts.

You know it is not your day... when you are tutoring the classmate in something that should only take twenty minutes tops, and end up being held back three times the time that was estimated.

You know it is not your day... when your hands are digging at a dead body's organs, pulling the intestines up and down like a tailor measuring cloth, and the parts you want to find still remain a hidden mystery to you.

You know it is not your day... when your hands still smell like the decayed and still decaying cadaever and rubber gloves even after washing and scrubbing up with scented soap.

You know it is not your day... when helpfulness causes you to end up being caught in the rain, causing your papers and textbook to end up looking like pathetic pickled lettuce leaves. Do not get me wrong, absolutely love the rain and walking in it, just not my notes and books.

You know it is not your day... when you love the rain, but end up nearly being the human humpty dumpty playing rolypoly down the stairs down from school due to it, even though you are wearing your favourite grunge rubber soled skateboard pet pair of shoes.

You know it is not your day... when the day's weather is reflective of your mood.

You know it is not your day... when aside from getting caught in the rain, you are caught in a jam that is longer than the twilight express train, and it would probably have been a hell lot faster to actually walk back.

You know it is not your day... when you are on the way back in a tram that is worse than a sardine can, and you are thrown around like pizza dough, and you end up being shoved into a corner, hitting the tram handle bars.

You know it is not your day... when you get some inconsiderate idiot's gum stuck on your jacket sleeve, causing a huge moment of embarrassment when you get stuck and have half a dozen pairs of eyes staring at you, and quite nearly miss your stop.

You know it is not your day... when that lousy chunk of gum in some hidden crevice of the handle bars, which was buried by a stupid unthoughtful uncivilized moron, leaves you a couple of big fat sticky patches on your favourite jacket sleeve, and a mastodonic headache with wondering how to fix that tacky mess.

On a side note, ten thousand curses on that insipid barbaric thoughtless galoot who left me in quite a fix. May his or her mouth get stuck and teeth fall out from gum overload, and suffer from jaw lock and painful sores from excessive chewing and biting the sides of his or her mouth. May ulcers mushroom like an epidemic plague in his or her mouth, and may he or she lose all muscular control and have his or her mandible drop with earth's natural gravitational pull to the ground. May his or her mouth get cold sores and cracked lips so much so even the thought of kissing becomes unpalatably unthinkable. And that, is just the beginning of this dodo's wrath...

comfort...

comfort is being in one's hideaway on a frosty day...

away from the pouring rain...

in that little bowl of soup...

rub out...

when all is said and done...

one can only wish there was an omnipotent eraser...

to rub it all out...

then hurt and pain would just be a nihility of the past...

forgotten...

ceasing to exist...

if only...

a whole lot of mathematics... go figure...

OFFICE ARITHMETIC

Smart boss + smart employee = profit
Smart boss + dumb employee = production
Dumb boss + smart employee = promotion
Dumb boss + dumb employee = overtime


GENERAL EQUATIONS AND STATISTICS

A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.
A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.

A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.
A successful woman is one who can find such a man.


HAPPINESS

To be happy with a man, you must understand him a lot and love him a little.
To be happy with a woman, you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.

LONGEVITY

Married men live longer than single men do, but married men are a lot more willing to die.

PROPENSITY TO CHANGE

A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.

A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, and she does.

DISCUSSION TECHNIQUE

A woman has the last word in any argument.

Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

HOW TO STOP PEOPLE FROM BUGGING YOU ABOUT GETTING MARRIED

Old aunts used to come up to me at weddings, poking me in the ribs and cackling, telling me, 'You're next.'

They stopped after I started doing the same thing to them at funerals.

ROMANCE MATHEMATICS

Smart man + smart woman = romance
Smart man + dumb woman = affair
Dumb man + smart woman = marriage
Dumb man + dumb woman = pregnancy

a world of darkness within...

when the lights go out...

the tranquility of the night beckons...

and the world gradually slows and comes to a stand still...

desolation in the air...

all that surrounds... is a quiet cold...

frozen inside...

the glacial chill ironically icier than the cold outside...

nothing left behind...

nothing to hold back that tenebrific abyss...

a silent thought...

a single tear...

all that is... a world of darkness within...

bollywood in all its entirety...

Having found a new close girlfriend is sheer bliss. Conversations that jump more randomly than a skittish frog on lily pads, and go on to no end like the River Nile; having similar sentiments to life and its superficiality, and yet be two individualistic characters that are on totally opposite ends of the spectrum. It is my personal opinion and belief that blessings come in all shapes and sizes; and well, it is totally unthinkable how it is conceivable not to love this nutty avant garde package.

Our mutual love for dance certainly makes me feel we are some pseudo Siamese twins, perhaps joined at the hip?!?, separated at birth. Her specialty definitely differs from mine by a long mile; bellydance, bollywood, tribal, and fusions of the three, whilst mine is ballet, jazz, contemporary modern, street jazz and a little hiphop. Needless to say, this clumsy foot ain't nowhere near her touchstone since she is a professional, and a teacher to boot.

Having said that, it is very unfortunate that have not had the privilege of watching a live performance as yet, but will soon, she promised! However, the mention of bollywood certainly does bring back a bag of memories with friends, who have an idiosyncratic fetish for Bollywood entertainment in all its entirety, and their impeccable mimicry, from their recollection of those days where boredom was in abundance and channel flipping to catch a Bollywood movie became the next best option. From the whole dance routine of love expression, or confession, between the star crossed lovers, the dwarf of a harebrained joker, and the massive army of extra dancers who pop up from nowhere, to the insane costume and background or landscape changes that happen before one can even blink, especially the slow motion chase, and the typical dance around the tree. Think it is indubitable that hers would be plenty more graceful and eyecatching with the gorgeous costume and stunning makeup; definitely an eyeopener all in all.

It is irrefutable that this chubby dodo with two left feet can do no bollywood and would probably spoil the market. Nevertheless, it does not mean a lack of appreciation for the beauty and skill in the actual art. Yet, it is here that contradiction abides, for am going to share a little bollywood spoof just for laughs, particularly with, and for, that girlfriend in mind, for the irksome bad hair day. Her smile or laugh, if do genuinely get one out of her, priceless.

Got to say, that the guy in the tight grey pants with the red shirt tucked in is an absolute sight for sore eyes; and that the penguin twiggly head dance at around 1:58 to 2:04 is utterly hilarious. Then again, the whole video is just sidesplittingly zany. So sit tight, for you just might fall off your chair...