Hidden Meanings

Dabble dabble, ramble ramble. I am but foolishly churning out words.
Moan, groan, sown, thrown the rhymes that make for my verbal dressage.
Masquerading in a beautiful face to hide the featureless visage,
I can only continue on in the hopes you fall for the trickery.

I think before I write, but I write not what I think.
I am the Walrus.
I whisper sweet things in your ears and conjure magic and enchantment in my sentences.
Be fooled! Believe in my apparent substance, believe that I have a fair morsel of intellect.
For I know nothing. Then again, what exactly is 'nothing'?

Love or/and Lust

Believe me when I say that I have never met a girl like you before. Yet don't believe others when they say that, for they only mean it in the literal term wherein your DNA and chromosomes uniquely tell you apart from the entire 6 billion of us. For I speak not in the literal but dabble in the highly elusive world or euphemisms and metaphors. I call not an apple an apple, but a red pearl that gently falls off mother nature's tree. I speak forth ideas where its concretisation loses the essence and spirit of its meaning. Hence, believe me when I say I have never met a girl like you before.

In me, a rather insatiable urge to talk to you, in me, a rather repressed hesitation that there is but one shot in the barrel of opportunity, for whence discharged, has no chance of recompense. In me, idealistic urgings I extinguish with pessimism and a defunct disdain of hope. I am pained and you are ignorant. But yet, I am more than willing to have it the other way too. So I guess it has to be lust.

Dear lord! has it been seven months since I last saw you? How could it have been so long yet feel so short. Alas I can only conclude that your importance is but a fleeting memory in the larger scheme of things.

Yet fret not, I will make it a point to meet up with you frequently, lest you shun me when I need you most. But till then, be the epitome of a woman. Aware of my presence but resolved not to beg for it.

Ho hums

"and I only have eyes for you"

Or so thats how the song goes anyway. If only such simple application from lyrical verse to real life was possible.

Unfortunately or fortuitously, this is not the case. Love is but a silly game that we taunt ourselves with. With painful headaches and equally euphoric heart races there is no limits to the emotions conjured in this magical encounter.

However like all magic tricks, it is but a farce, a sleight of the hear. Nothing but sheer illusion that leaves you embittered at the end and yet, quietly wanting for more.

Dum dum dum dum

Lyrical boredom. Mundane, pedantic rantings as common as a crow near food.

I was pondering on the meaning of all this nonsense. This incessant dabble I hear on the airwaves. What is it with these people? Do they understand what it means to produce and listen to good music? Well if not good, at least audible and pleasant ones.

But no, you have your rappers and your rockers; with having more spunk rather than the lyrical genius that we traditionally ascribed to this elite class of individuals called musicians. Did you know of Dizzy or Coltrane? Did you hear their sensual beats and feel their cool vibes pulsating, breathing, giving life? Of course you can't. You are too busy being dazzled by your strobe lights and all other forms of visual spectacles that distract you from the actual purpose of music.

In this day and age. The watered down, bastard child of "music" is genetically defective and has no more listening potential than watching a piece of bread mold grow, develop maggots and become completely disfigured.

I can hear the sounds on the airwaves, but I cannot listen to them anymore.

Lyrics. Fail.

I happened to turn on the radio recently and stumbled upon a Ke$ha's song "Tik Tok". I had heard it before, but today I paid special attention to the lyrics of the song and not just the catchy tune and the crazy bass.

Lo and Behold, I found a verse that was so perplexing I had to listen to it again (on my itouch, they don't replay on the radio. duh). The verse goes "When I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack". O.K.... for all you underage teeny innocent boys and girls out there, Jack stands for Jack Daniels, a form of bourbon or American Whiskey. Now imagine gargling your mouth with that alcoholic (80 proof) liquid. Ouch!

Not satisfied with the thought of that, I tried it. Unfortunately I had no bourbon, so I settled on a McCallen (such a waste right?! The things I do to satisfy you readers; if any), and boy oh boy it was painful. It felt like gargling with Listerine when you have ulcers in your mouth. Worse still, whiskey has this strong spicy sensation when it touches your tongue! OMG it burned!

Then it occurred to me how stupid the lyrics really is. Perhaps Ke$ha needed a rhyme or something provocative, either way it sure does not reflect any thinking or songwriting in it (Yes Sir, I am dis-ing Kesha cause she is as good a singer/ writer as I am at riding a bike). Singers and song writers must think before they pen a song. Artist like Rachel Yamagata, Amos Lee even Usher do that.

On the flip side, consumers need to filter what they listen too. Just like how not all that glitters is Gold, a good beat does not necessarily make a good song. Lyrics count too.

Now to wash away that acrid taste on my tongue.

So

Rude, Rude, Rude People

"If youth only knew: if age only could." Henri Estienne (1470 - 1520)

Respecting our elders would seem to be a universal value and a moral value that one would have been instilled from a very, very young age. After all, respecting your parents (an elder in their own rights) would have been mandated.

As you grow up and entered school, you were thought to respect the "words" from older people and to remain "reverend in their presence". You would have been thought to pay attention to what they say and most of all, leave whatever snide comments that you have to later. You were thought to pay attention to these elders even though what they say may be preposterous and go against all the laws of science ( I once had a hearty conversation with an old man which thought he served in world war one, which would have made him a 10 year old soldier. Right…).

Yet, how is it that you can confer such respect to these people and not have the dignity to give up your seat to them when all laws of science and logic point to the fact that they need the seat more than you?

This issue was spawned from my daily commute back home from work. My bus stop is at Newton, and on an average day, the bus is probably full by the time I board the bus. Thus, I will have to stand for the entire journey.

Last week, when the bus stopped at Balmoral Plaza (after Newton), an elderly couple (I would estimate 70-ish) boarded the bus. They managed to meander through towards the designated "seats reserved for the elderly" which were occupied by 2; for the lack of a better phrase; "apathetic young punks".
Instead of giving up their seats, (as appropriated by the sign) they continued to sit as the two elderly couples stood there, their frail hands barely hanging on to the railings as the bus lurched onwards. This couple hung on for the entire length of their journey and got off a stop before me, visibly battered from that ordeal.

Two themes come to mind in the aftermath of this event. Firstly, the apparent lack of respect and compassion the youths of my age have for their elders. More importantly, the theme of personal apathy and desensitized behavior. As much as I was shocked at the youth, I was even more taken aback at my nonchalance about it.

In the new scientist article titled "Respect for elders 'may be universal' in primates", the article illustrates how primates are similar to us human being and how these primates will pay respect and pay special attention to their elders. Unfortunately, this episode has made me rethink that notion.

Perhaps we are not as similar to primates after all. At least they respect their elders.
From that episode, I decided to research if this incident was just an isolated experience or one that was recurring in our daily lives. Upon talking to my friends and reading demographic reports, I realize that these cases were not remote. They were rather rampant, to say the least.

However, let us move on to the more pressing issue at hand. How was it that I could stand at on the bus and stand (no pun intended) for such a behavior? Where was Human morality to tug at my brain and give those “young punks” a good chiding?

I think the answer to that boils down to one thing; indifference. As much I would have liked to ‘tell them off’, I just did not have the strength to do so. I adopted this, “let me mind my own business” attitude. Unfortunately, upon reflection, I realize that I should have done something. It would have been the right thing to do.

Many a times in life we bear witness to situations in which we are clear about who is right and who is wrong. Yet, many a times, we choose not to intervene. We choose to ‘close our eyes’, hoping that the matter will slip by and aligning ourselves to a state of “forced oblivion”.

We do not want to meddle in other people’s business. We want to remain neutral. Unfortunately, we CANNOT remain neutral all the time. We need to interfere when the situation calls for it. As a youth in Singapore, most of the time, I feel that this is not my responsibility to bear. I feel the older people should do it, yet, if the older generation has been too desensitized to awake from their slumber of indifference, who will?

And so the mantle has been passed onto us to address this. Be it a moral obligation, a societal obligation, a need to express your true emotions or just Karma, I think being standing up to address these issues is crucial for the betterment of everyone’s lives.

Although I cannot spell out the benefits to you, I can tell you that by expressing how you feel. You will not live to regret it later.

So, the next time you are commuting or any where else and you see an act that goes against your conscience, remember to tell that little bugger off. Who knows, we might live up to the expectations of our species after all.

XOXO.

As I pen, well-type, this post, I am reminded of the lyrics from RENT. "525 600 minutes, 525 600 moments so dear... blah, blah blah.... seasons of love...." So it has been more than a year since I visited this site, let alone post a new entry. However like an annual pilgrimage to to some sacred and holy site, I feel that this 'offering' to the demi-god of social media is long and way overdue.

The 15 months that I have been away has been amazing. Firstly, I have managed to break free of the manacles that bounded me to the "Emerald City" (Army), I have landed myself a rather comfortable- yet challenging- job and will be heading to Europe during the Spring of May. I guess thare's only one phrase to describe such a profound state of rest, and unfortunately; my mono-language friends; it is not in English but French.

That phrase is : laissez faire et laissez passez. (easy living and easy going)

Yes! I feel reborn, as if the yolk of suppression has been lifted from me. Like a frog that has been lifted out from his well, I can see so many new things in which I could not see earlier, as if I am wearing 3D glasses!

No more will I have to face the stupidity of the office-ers, and no more will I listen to the incessant whining of the soldier. Freedom from listening to their incessant chatter is a reprieve so great, I find the proper adjectives to describe it.

OK now, time to enjoy this new found freedom. Adieu