Tuesday, October 13
Tuesday, October 6
The smell of death
I have always marveled at how reporters tend to sensationalized a news story by adding a twist here and there to add more juice to the story. Let me give you a simple example.
Take an automobile accident. Since that seems to be happening everyday, and being reported daily, you can't help but to come across them the moment you check the daily news. Some resulted in death, some lucky ones escaped. But the stories that I'm curious about are the ones where someone died from the resulting crash. So you get the story of the accident, perhaps how it happened, and the name of the deceased. Then the story of the loved ones being left behind.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure what was written was what being told to them. Often times, you will come across something like this - "the deceased has been acting strangely lately. Heck, he even sent me a text message seeking forgiveness etc etc". And now he's dead.
I find it amazing that some people are gifted with the premonition of death, that they can sense it approaching. I imagine it to feel cold, maybe a sense of detachment, and the realization that time is so precious but yet you feel like everything has slowed down. And you know that scene where your whole life flashes before your eyes, only that since you still have time, you get clips of your life, slowly emerging at odd minutes. And the weird thing is things that you have forgotten before, come back and you can somehow have a very vivid picture of it again.
Like the house where I used to stay in Panorama St., I can now remember every single details about the house. The layout of the house, the kitchen and it's stove, the oval table at the dining hall where plenty of card games took place during those long summer nights, Caitlyn's poster on my door, the laundry room with the cat litter in it, and the tree at the corner of the house, where it stood alone and stoic, watching over the house throughout the whole time.
I found out that the house was demolished a few years later. So whatever remained, they are all in my memories now.
Have you ever feel that death is so near, that you can feel it, taste it, or even smell it?
And for some strange reason, death smells like semen. The irony, of course, is mind-blowing.
Take an automobile accident. Since that seems to be happening everyday, and being reported daily, you can't help but to come across them the moment you check the daily news. Some resulted in death, some lucky ones escaped. But the stories that I'm curious about are the ones where someone died from the resulting crash. So you get the story of the accident, perhaps how it happened, and the name of the deceased. Then the story of the loved ones being left behind.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure what was written was what being told to them. Often times, you will come across something like this - "the deceased has been acting strangely lately. Heck, he even sent me a text message seeking forgiveness etc etc". And now he's dead.
I find it amazing that some people are gifted with the premonition of death, that they can sense it approaching. I imagine it to feel cold, maybe a sense of detachment, and the realization that time is so precious but yet you feel like everything has slowed down. And you know that scene where your whole life flashes before your eyes, only that since you still have time, you get clips of your life, slowly emerging at odd minutes. And the weird thing is things that you have forgotten before, come back and you can somehow have a very vivid picture of it again.
Like the house where I used to stay in Panorama St., I can now remember every single details about the house. The layout of the house, the kitchen and it's stove, the oval table at the dining hall where plenty of card games took place during those long summer nights, Caitlyn's poster on my door, the laundry room with the cat litter in it, and the tree at the corner of the house, where it stood alone and stoic, watching over the house throughout the whole time.
I found out that the house was demolished a few years later. So whatever remained, they are all in my memories now.
Have you ever feel that death is so near, that you can feel it, taste it, or even smell it?
And for some strange reason, death smells like semen. The irony, of course, is mind-blowing.
Monday, October 5
Change
For the first time in a very long time, he felt so alone last night. It felt like he was an old PC, and as he was shutting down, he can feel everything slowing down. And he became stuck, not knowing how long it would take for the lights to go off.
And then, just like that, total darkness.
Suddenly, a wave of emotions hit him real strong, and he broke down and cry. A silent cry that really ripped his heart into pieces. Because he remembered the last time he cried - a long time ago when he was truly alone and had no one. And it brought back memories of the past, of the loneliness he kept as company, that he grew to love till it stabbed him in the back.
He can still feel that pain. And last night, it felt really real. And somehow he knew, that things will never be the same again.
And then, just like that, total darkness.
Suddenly, a wave of emotions hit him real strong, and he broke down and cry. A silent cry that really ripped his heart into pieces. Because he remembered the last time he cried - a long time ago when he was truly alone and had no one. And it brought back memories of the past, of the loneliness he kept as company, that he grew to love till it stabbed him in the back.
He can still feel that pain. And last night, it felt really real. And somehow he knew, that things will never be the same again.
Tuesday, November 25
Melancholy is the right mood to write
It's hard to write when you're happy. Or busy. You're out there enjoying life, really living the life that you want. You want to spend every single available moment being happy, with your loved ones, doing the things that you love.
And so the blog gets abandoned, remnants of the past when things were a lot bleaker and darker. Writing was the remedy for the heart, a solace where words provide temporary comfort, and soothe the beast raging inside. It was something like a coping mechanism, and for that, I am forever grateful and thankful for the comfort it provided.
But there comes a time when the past gets revisited, and those dark demons came surfacing again. Those long forgotten demons, never expunged, just pushed into a dark corner of the mind, forgotten. Bidding and waiting for the right time to jump out and take control of the mind again. And the mind, being lulled into happiness, grows weak and vulnerable. And so it begins.
Words are rushing out wanting to be written. I can feel the tip of my fingers tingling, anticipating the tapping on the keyboard. The calm before the storm.
Ingin sekali, aku ungkapi. Isyarat jiwa, dengan sempurna.
And so I ask myself again, what's wrong? Am I sad?
Or I simply miss writing that I choose to feel sad to be able to write?
And so the blog gets abandoned, remnants of the past when things were a lot bleaker and darker. Writing was the remedy for the heart, a solace where words provide temporary comfort, and soothe the beast raging inside. It was something like a coping mechanism, and for that, I am forever grateful and thankful for the comfort it provided.
But there comes a time when the past gets revisited, and those dark demons came surfacing again. Those long forgotten demons, never expunged, just pushed into a dark corner of the mind, forgotten. Bidding and waiting for the right time to jump out and take control of the mind again. And the mind, being lulled into happiness, grows weak and vulnerable. And so it begins.
Words are rushing out wanting to be written. I can feel the tip of my fingers tingling, anticipating the tapping on the keyboard. The calm before the storm.
Ingin sekali, aku ungkapi. Isyarat jiwa, dengan sempurna.
And so I ask myself again, what's wrong? Am I sad?
Or I simply miss writing that I choose to feel sad to be able to write?
Monday, December 23
The road less travelled
There are many things that I treasure in here. A long time ago, when my heart was bleeding, a close friend of mine started this blog for me, so that I can weep in here instead of shutting myself away from the world. And along the way, I have known more friends, and eventually my wound healed and my life became complete.
That was a long time ago.
It's amazing how when you look back, the years seemed to feel like eternity. And sometimes, you can't help but wonder what have you achieved over the years. Have you met your goals in life? And are you still on the path that you have chosen to tread? It's easy to get sidetracked, and often times, lost at the same time. The are so many side-paths along the way, and you are bound to get curious as you walked pass them. But isn't that what life is? To explore and discover the mysteries at the end of the path?
Even if it leads to your own demise.
But would you rather love and lost, or never loved at all?
That was a long time ago.
It's amazing how when you look back, the years seemed to feel like eternity. And sometimes, you can't help but wonder what have you achieved over the years. Have you met your goals in life? And are you still on the path that you have chosen to tread? It's easy to get sidetracked, and often times, lost at the same time. The are so many side-paths along the way, and you are bound to get curious as you walked pass them. But isn't that what life is? To explore and discover the mysteries at the end of the path?
Even if it leads to your own demise.
But would you rather love and lost, or never loved at all?
Tuesday, July 10
Wimbledon finals
Because pictures worth a thousand words.
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| The moment it all happened |
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| Anything is possible when you believed |
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| The happy and adoring family |
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| Maybe next time, Andy |
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| On top of the world |
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| Winner once more |
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| A dejected Murray, with his girlfriend, Kim |
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| Don't cry for me, Britain! |
Pictures courtesy from Getty Images, AP and Murray Sanders. Taken from http://www.dailymail.co.uk
Monday, July 9
Sweet 17
It was indeed majestic.
The last time he was at the top of the ranking, it was two years ago, June 2010 to be exact. The last time he won the Slam was also two years ago, the Australian Open in 2010. He didn't win any Slams last year, the first time since 2002 he didn't win at least one. And many believed that the great man is on his way down, having turned 30 last year and busy with his family.
But not to him. Roger Federer defies the odds again by winning the Wimbledon Championship for a record equaling seventh times, by beating Andy Murray 4-6, 7-5, 6-3, 6-4. The victory returns Federer to No. 1 in ATP ranking and will tie him with Pete Sampras with a record 286 weeks atop the ATP rankings. He should pass Sampras next week.
The last time he was at the top of the ranking, it was two years ago, June 2010 to be exact. The last time he won the Slam was also two years ago, the Australian Open in 2010. He didn't win any Slams last year, the first time since 2002 he didn't win at least one. And many believed that the great man is on his way down, having turned 30 last year and busy with his family.
But not to him. Roger Federer defies the odds again by winning the Wimbledon Championship for a record equaling seventh times, by beating Andy Murray 4-6, 7-5, 6-3, 6-4. The victory returns Federer to No. 1 in ATP ranking and will tie him with Pete Sampras with a record 286 weeks atop the ATP rankings. He should pass Sampras next week.
So we meet again!
Murray carried the whole nation's hope of ending Britain's 76 years wait of a Champion. He did reasonably well in the first set, breaking Federer late in the game and holding his serve when serving for the set. The second set was tight, with breaks opportunity swinging both ways, but it was the maestro who took it when he broke Murray in the last game. The third set was briefly interrupted when torrential rain started to fall, and continued with the roof securely intact after a brief break. From then on, it was all Federer, again and again making those unbelievable shots, while Murray tried his best to keep his temper in check and keep up with a revitalized Federer.
When a Murray forehand looped narrowly wide after three hours 24 minutes of enthralling action, Federer dropped to the turf in joy, remembering those familiar feelings when he used to dominate the game and winning Slams after Slams.
The king is back. And I hope he is here to stay.
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