.the evolution of the dance

what do you want of
me, the world? cradling
each in deranged embrace;
vacant forms,
contortions of
the headless bandmaster,
incessent drumming
drumming
never ending, wanting
drumming
all of me, consuming
till there is none
but your taint

.unbeing

head on false down scant
respite as i fear your unbeing.
fitful sleep heaved, shallow breaths
the burden of a young soul
pondering death.
of unbeing,
uncomforted at the foot of the bed on which she slept
alone,
whilst you traversed the skies
unknowing
though not freed, of the unbeing
the surreal thought of watching
death consume this very
vivid consciousness
that lapses at some indetermined point
haze,
into the unbeing of
oblivion;
the hollow imploding self-consuming
homecoming to the empty home i never knew.

murakami kicks ass.

.chasing puddles in the desert

ebbing joy as i skip
forward i plant my soul
hardened by the linear course of time
shimmering hue of blue in scorching warmth of sun
yet only coarse bone specks await
always a momentary ever lessening flinch
before chasing the next puddle
shimmering delirium of hope
how long before i realise
i am but chasing puddles in the desert

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

I know that you are something special
To you I'd be always faithful
I want to be what you always needed
Then I hope you'll see the heart in me

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

Your beautiful soul, yeah
You might need time to think it over
But im just fine moving forward
I'll ease your mind
If you give me the chance
I will never make you cry c`mon lets try

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

Am I crazy for wanting you
Baby do you think you could want me too
I don't wanna waste your time
Do you see things the way I do
I just wanna know if you feel it too
There is nothing left to hide

I don't want another pretty face
I don't want just anyone to hold
I don't want my love to go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul
You're the one I wanna chase
You're the one I wanna hold
I wont let another minute go to waste
I want you and your beautiful soul

You beautiful soul, yeah

-j.mccartney

replicationofalabourerslife.

damn alarm clock ali and wife wakes john and wife scoff that they have to wake so early for the kids and for work luke wakes the kids the kids oversleep ben gets worked up at the kids charlie laments why cant the kids just be disciplined and wake up on time ted wife and kids do the breakfast routine that is never completed as the rush begins wife begins household routine ali embarks on the rush to school the jam the f*ing taxi drivers john drops the kids luke thinks about work about the cubicles the telephones ringing the stale airconditioning the printer toner stench the harsh fluorescent lighting the same boring places for lunch reaches work parks car gets into the office forced smile greets collegues thinks about the fleeting joy knocking off at 630 the telephone rings the email buzzes the office routine begins 617 ben knocks off drives home stands at driveway relieved office day is done looks at front door with lifeless smile knowing stacatto awaits dinner tv kids on computer wonders why is there not more family joy clock chimes 9 confronts kids about homework flicks of computer unplugs telephone sits kids down lectures kids about how hard he works to provide for the family why cant kids do the f*ing homework kids dig pen into paper rage bottled suppressed repressed ted slams door walks to master bedroom wife watching tv slams door complains washes up fitful sleep damn alarm clock

i wish the strength to deny thee.

I yield not to the void.
still darkness from the breast creeps
snarled, my neck
swirling,
emptiness.
smile as agony wastes;
why can’t I just walk
impaled by one who returns not
too much I wish thy happiness.
phantom stilts on flaccid hope
that there be another.
else to love I live
but a sordid lie in my soul

.welcome to the frontier of capitalist investment strategy

[that fateful day in the high command]

madamm: ahhhh so much free moneyyy! waaaah so many buttons! pink, red and bluee! I press can???
underlings in unison: yes madamm!!!
madamm: ahhhhh what do these do?! -bang depress tweek depress prod depress-
underlings in unison: -shudder- errr yes madamm!!
madamm: ahhhh so fun! these send people out to shop for me! ooooh lets play supermarket sweep!!!
underlings in unison: -doubleshudder- errr yes madamm!
madamm: i want this, and this and this and this...i want rubber duckies...
single quiverring underling: maddaaam! very sorry sorry madaam! duckies all sold out...-poof-
madamm: how dare there be no rubber duckies!
underlings less one, improvising and in unison: madaam how about we buy some nice big ships instead?

that, folks, is how it all began...

.limbocity

tepid contentment a numbing state of faux,
each step kinders yet lacerates deeper,
the impending,
i hear it. it resonates. daily mocking
relief of pure intent.
autonomosity beyond my best.
if only i could flip,
the switches of thy soul.
but it is limbocity,
smile as i dig my hole.

.excerpt from laws of human resource management for corporations rule #1: make people work 9-5 or longer infront of 85hz computer screens worshipping powerpoint and excel in the midst of photocopiers printers fax machines in stale airconditioning that smells of chalk in cubicles that are square or rectangle with at the most two pale colours with doors that make loud beeping noises whenever they are unclocked because it makes the people most productive and builds greatest long-term shareholder value.

used, abused. twirled like cotton candy on stick.
oh so pink, oh so sweet.
my ass.

Plain Vanilla

I’m tired.
I know the outcome. Or do I?
I walk around with that empty feeling in my stomach.
I f-ing hate it.
Haha. Silly me.
What the f was I thinking?
Dream on small fry.
It isn’t a fking competition,
It’s all about substance. Or so I thought.
Silly me.
C’mon let’s all put up a big show.
Wham bam. f-king jam.
A cock-fighters prized catch.

liberty.

enslaved by i,
sweet shackles. of freedom,
the enlightened fool's providence. these
lofty guillotines slice,
flesh from whole.
wilted crackle; snarled detachment
burning pride strewn, on cold
earth. the rake of time,
removes all. liberty,
they cry.

of mailmen and m&ms.

laughter is the language that we speak,
affinity, an enduring bond of simple affection,
just being ourselves, not someone else they seek.
expression, not false constructions in eyes of others,
but from within, an unashamed reflection of who we are,
our hopes,
loves,
whims,
and quirks that few appreciate.
of wealth and splendor i have none to give,
only care, concern and companionship,
an impish grin, giggle and a warm hug,
know that i will always be here for you!

to the wonderful wonderful person who never fails to brighten up my day, love you loads!

i sit here among those who have opinions, abound
pause these: incessant assertations, insistence.
deadlines, of building extensions of oneself in the sky.
celebrate myself, oh such beauty, abound.

what, matters? simplicity escapes me. i seek clarity,
understanding. stone statues sit. worn, mocking
the institutions of splendid inertia, timelessly

dead.

value. by who's standards? penguins on lecterns,
huddled. bastion of serene irrelevance. such bliss,
for in antiquity i justify my existence. confusion.
muddled insecurity cringing behind spires and swirls,
mounds of charred indulgences.

i seek for wonder,
a gasp of glee,
a glint of awe.
but nay
she doth a frail withered rose.
measuring, hurrying. progress,
build them now. more! more!
crushed, stomped. forgotten.
we live with clouded eyes,
we live with clouded eyes.

shifting sands, the yen
for certainty, illusive
never found, wanting
fleeting. all manifestations,
abound, cackling shadows
tempting one from stark,
unflinching

oneness.

reality, bites
don't kid yourself.

the maze.

lush green corridors beckon,
towering ahead the entrance at first light.
tread lightly on the unworn path,
small bare feet on silken petals, soft sea of red.
a gleeful dance of carefree wonder,
sweet laughter abound.
a half-pace back you smiled.
so surreal, the maiden journey of the explorer.

a fork breaks ahead,
solitary path cleaved as dawn cedes to dusk.
certain footsteps wane,
a ghastly breeze stirs, the crackle of leaves.
dry, withered. piercing each fragile step.
frolicking rays usurped, whispering shadows lurk.
so alone.

but from the fear the explorer turned.
a half-pace back you smiled.

always a half-pace back.
always there for me.
dad and mum, will love you always!

.yucks there's dust on my blog yes. it has been quite a while since i last posted. it is inconsequential as to why, and actually i'm rather surprised that i have begun to post again. i'm the sort who'd suddenly lose interest in a project once it's up and running. periodic maintanence implies commitment and commitment can only mean less freedom..youch! give me back my space! grrrrr. it scares me. you scare me. haha. remind me to procure a 'wife-o-sphere' for the unfortunate other-half who'd be exchanging vows with me (if ever!). remember those sealed ecosystems that we use to mavel at in primary school? hehe..hmm..i was just thinking - we're actually living in a huge huge efficiently managed hyper-market. a 640+ sq km hyper-market installed with an advanced indegenous production line (often upgraded) which churns out competent and diligent army ants bred on a strong broth of communitarianism. the entire facility is managed by an elite crack team of commanders. the 5 key links with the external milieu - land, sea, air, capital, and communications - previously incubated personally by the high command, extend their reach outwards to serve the duel purpose of 1. profit generation through the 'win-win' utilisation of external resources i.e. regionalisation and 2. increasing access to the hyper-market which they are headquartered in. their success serves the betterment of the corporation's international image and branding. everything is ordered. everything is iso-certified. large enterprises are wooed and encouraged to set up shop in this large enterprise of equal standing. its a game of large hypermarket enterprise continually re-inventing itself - superstructure, systems and targets - to ensure competitiveness, as a whole, in the international arena. once in a while a local plain jim or jane gets spotted and is supported as a fledging component of the hyper-market setup. These occurences are celebrated and encouraged, but they are not the mainstay of the corporation. given this setup, it is hardly surprising that top brains are actively being sought after, from within and beyond, to manage this enterprise of international stature. 80 6 yr bonds each year suddenly seems a justifiable figure...surreal isn't it?

.aside time exists in the plurality of ones thoughts. why do we not get stuck on one thought alone? imperfection drives the world. perfection is absolute, imperfection is relative. imperfection drives the passage of time. time thus does not apply to he who is perfect. we strive for perfection but perfection does not exist within our nature of being. we are linear. we find equilibria and we optimise. perfection implies oneness. are we all one and the same? is perfection the absence of imperfection or...? if something encompassed all, never began and will never end, is it not perfect in itself? it is all than can exist, thus whatever form it takes it is perfect since there is no alternative conception.

.backstage melancholic hey ok. the world isn't all mere gloom and doom as reflected in my prior posts. well, it's just that i'm of the opinion that popular press, being popular press, tends to indulge in broad but selective reporting, systematically discounting the extent of the bad karma abound. and popular press, in fulfilling its role as ubiquitous friendly information provider to the proletariat, also inductively sets most the agenda of what is discussed amongst the masses and hence, through the incredible democratic apparatus, what is of concern to politicians and their all-important ratings. correspondents thrive on sudden shifts (drama), not ebbs nor status quos (no drama). the problem is that not everything of real value is exciting as say, the psycadelic shape-shifting chameleon that is american foreign policy, or kim jong il and his totally out-of-this-world haircut. As a result the coverage, though geographically diverse, is but detailed information about peaks, troughs and notable steep gradients, with much of the baseflow discounted. prolonged ethnic strife, shortage of food, chronic disease in africa and the third-world, social wastage elsewhere, are all very much part of reality. but since they have been reported before and not much has changed since, then we shall keep it in the dog-eared 'others' folio till, if ever, the fireworks begin. it's akin to sitting on death row in california, when it happens you die, au reviour dude, if not you just waste away bit by bit, statistic by statistic, in line, unseen and forgotten. unlike death row though, the under-current of vice and suffering does not waste away, rather it grows. and grows. slowly but with gathering destructive potential. it is a practice of great folly to ignore or give mere token mention to these baseflows, in a bid to cover even more of what i term 'big bang happenings' - obvious peaks, troughs and steep in-betweens, involving events that have already occured, or will occur in the inelastic short term, of which a relatively little can be done. not that i'm suggesting that we abandon these, only that there is much that can be done to seek a better balance incorporating a greater forward perspective, searching and illuminating ticking time bombs, obvious and not so obvious, and profiling their projected adverse consequences. a self-confessed backstage melancholic, i brood in gloom and doom in a bid to add my weight, little as it may be, to the end of the scale that tips toward greater reflection and caution. not that this is the panacea toward eliminating the evils of the world. perfect information we will never possess. but greater and more relevant information will go a long way to preempting and providing relief to this world's ills.

empty.

porcelain faces laced with smile.

fickle favour, reeds in windswept plains.

the dance of hands, lust given form.

empty.



the chase of oblivion, sweet excess.

ashen society, drones among smokestacks.

entombed, smelt in wanton greed. it festers,

so empty.

.we are all power rangers now society reaps in the future what it sows in the present. it's all quite scary really. do you have a kid? well i don't but i do have 2 younger brothers and frankly, they're all power rangers now. splendid. in pink, blue, white and what-ever-else-colours there may be. and like every brainless episode they do the same stuff over and over and over and over again. week in week out - school, math tuition, piano lessons, tv, science tution, speech class, computer games, dreaded chinese tuition, more tv. ditto. a kid's life has changed so much over the past decade and a half, but not for the better i'd reckon. in a strict material sense they definitely have more than we did. but as always there's a tradeoff and i fear that some of the most important non-material influences have been overtly sacrificed - relationships, warmth, care, concern, surprises, fun. there are only 24 hrs in any day. and it doesn't help that parents are, 1. ever more caught up in making that extra buck, 2. ever more resigned that more tution, tv and computer games are the natural order of a kid's day. my guess is that 1. and 2. feed on each other, justifying and reinforcing a cycle of increasing disengagement. commoditisation pervades a kid's life, so much so that even he himself has become reduced to a mere object, albeit one with a huge recurrent price tag attached. 'tell it to go there, ask it to do this, we have no time for what it wants, this is all for it's own good, i'm too tired for it, leave it with the maid, why is it's your score so low?'. i'm a firm believer that the adult is a product of his experiences as a kid, his disposition, outlook towards life, how comfortable he is with people, temprement, drive. teenagerhood and beyond accentuates these rather than alters them at base. how many in the power ranger generation have caught fishes in drains? and have fallen into them? played police and thief with his neighbours? cites enid blyton as his favourite author and sesame street as his favourite program? a minority i'd think. not to say the list above is much to shout about, or that my generation had it great - leave that for another time. what i'm highlighting is that things have taken a good few steps in the wrong direction since. they're all power rangers now. in due time, we will all be power rangers now. after that, the teletubbies?



.hear cesaria evora - nha cancera ka tem medida (deep forest single version), duncan sheik - daylight (album), the streets - weak become heroes (ashley beedle's love bug vocal mix)

.first post it's a friday. i like fridays. but only because it beckons the arrival of saturday and sunday. then again it's only 2 days to monday again. perspectives. too much talk of war these days. the playground bully's rhetoric or a genuine campaign of responsibility to avert impending catastrophy? Possible explanations abound but only one increasingly probable outcome - that of war. with every additional troop mobilised the grim world ebbs towards further strife and confrontation. great. legitimised war. nevermind the many innocent lives that will be lost. grab a beer. celebrate. a triumph of multi-lateral consultative politiks. the un inspectors have found scarce evidence of non-compliance, but we know he's got them hidden in schools and hospitals. for the good of humanity we march into battle. oh yes that leaves the small question of what happens in iraq after that. and after iraq? 'tis a slippery slope indeed.


.aside the non-existance in reality of ideals. had a fleeting conversation with my cousin yesterday on diametrical probability. okay stupid big phrase that i invented in vanity. basically it's got to do with opposite effects stemming from a course of action. let's say i bought a cabbage. yup one cabbage. so i contend that whatever good that can be derived from the cabbage, +a +b +c +d +e, is always, with no exceptions in all cases, balanced by opposing negative elements that are, hypothetically, equal in collective magnitude, but of different natures, -w -x -y -z. distilled of circumstance, all actions are mechanical and possess the equal potential of good and bad, an innate balance. what differs though, is the probability, in given cirumstances, of each effect occuring. add the weighted probability of the good and compare to the bad, that's your new decision matrix. the hinge is on probability rather than an triumph of absolute goodness over badness. yes. boredom by my desk drives me so such extents.



questions.


a fleeting shadow on weary plaster,

worn, abused, misused.

shards. the pane falls, slowly.

deliberately. it hurts,

knowledge of the soon to be. anticipation.

sudden stillness, a field of wheat embellished in frame.

shades of grey. the shattering.

rewind damnit, rewind.