To Write, Imperfectly

I’ve been wondering why I haven’t been writing prose or stories on my blog or anywhere else online for quite awhile now, and the answer does seem to be eluding me.

Do I not have the writing prowess to churn out decent work on specific topics? 

Do I not want to share my opinion on issues so as to avoid scrutiny or discussions?

I don’t think it’s either of the above. I suspect it’s because I’ve gotten tired of looking at my own thoughts and opinions beyond the place where they are most comfortable in, which is in my head, naturally. To see these thoughts translate into words on a page or a virtual space, it seems like an imperfect expression of all the massive mental workings that is going on within the tiny physical confines of the brain (and not mind, because who can quantify the mind, physically or otherwise?).

An article, a prose, while they do essentially capture a certain aspect of your thoughts, are limited and committed merely to how you craft them. Once you commit them into ink or print, they create an impression of you and your thoughts that may or may not be true; the words give the author a personality, and vice versa. It may reveal a part of who you intrinsically are, or it may misportray it regrettably.

And we haven’t gotten to the emotional bit of writing yet, a domain that is arguably distinct from the cognitive process itself. Words at best can only give a faint reflection of the raw emotions that arise in a person at any given point of time. Since it is already itself a mammoth of a task for a person to accurately pinpoint to himself how he is feeling at any one moment (without even determining the reason for the emotion), how much more difficult would it be to express them in words to impress upon others these emotions? 

This is exactly why brilliant writers are always so celebrated by the world. They have the ability to capture, even if imperfectly, the raw essence of emotions and parts of the human spirit, as well as convert sophisticated trains of thoughts into understandable language. They make us more comprehensible to ourselves. 

To be able to write is a gift, and indeed one that is often powerful and influential.  Looking back at the above paragraphs I’ve written, I realise that perhaps I am not that weary of watching my thoughts play out on a piece of paper or space anymore. I think the physical manifestation of thoughts in the form of words is beautiful (though at the same time essentially imperfection), and perhaps it is this inadequacy that is touching and perfect at the same time. It reveals the sophistication of the human mind, and the dynamism of everything around us.

Will I start writing more again? Most likely.

Deep Reality 

Imagine the current reality to be something like overlapping translucent sketch sheets, where each layer is an individual’s perception and his own reality. Some people have stronger minds and stronger wills, so the sketch on their translucent sheet is more distinct. 

Reality is something of an art piece that continually changes, and each person’s mind contributes a part to this ever morphing art piece.

If you actively seek to change your mind and your reality, it may affect the entire combined reality of this world that is made up of many, many sketches, depending on how strong the change is that may cause your own sketch to be more distinct and prominent. 

The universe is made up of all of the time-less art pieces that are made up of countless sketches, of all living beings and existences past, present and future. All of these art pieces co-exist together to form a complete picture, each art piece a different reality of different outcomes and possibilities. If you have strokes that are clear, focussed and powerful, the universe could just shape a master piece of artwork around you and allow you a glimpse of all the art pieces that makes up the complete picture that is the universe itself. 

You will then no longer be a sketch piece; you will be an observer of this process, and a witness of existence. 

Competition?

(Here’s something I wrote on the theme of ‘Competition’ a couple of years back, and I thought I’d just share it just for laughs. It went a little off topic so I find it quite funny, looking back at it today)

The truth about competition is that it is everywhere – anytime, anyone, anyhow. It exists in every aspect and part of life and it is a question of the form it takes rather than the part it plays; the significance of competition in people’s daily lives is too overwhelming to be called a part: life itself can be regarded as a competition and understood as a collective experience of competitions continuous and sequential.

Mankind has achieved countless illustrious milestones and succeeded in numerous astronomical conquests since humans first walked on Earth but one opponent Man has yet to overcome and possibly never will triumph over, is death. This insurmountable obstacle creates an inevitable competition in life that no one can ever escape from – the competition against time. Humans are born into this world with one certainty in life, and that is death; nothing else in between is as definite as the end itself. This presents the general understanding and consensus that everyone has a limited time on Earth and what is made of life is what happens in between the twin poles of start and end. This sets Man in competition against the clock and though each person moves at a different pace from the next, everyone is aware that there are only so many years in life that each person can possess before Death comes to claim all that life has given and withheld. This is the truth underpinning life which drives progress – people want to move faster, know better and live longer such that everything invented ranging from the television to the steam engine to the airplane is done with the purpose to allow mankind to maximize the human experience and lengthen the duration of competition against the running down of time before age catches up and the battle is eternally lost.

As the clock ticks away, the next competition which comes alongside the ever present race against time is the competition against the self. As much as Man would covet escaping the hands of Death, Man seeks in equal magnitude to outdo and better himself. Everywhere in society the sight of people sloughing away trying to achieve more and climb higher in a never ending conquest to do better and be better reveals an underlying desire innate to humans to outperform themselves. This inborn urge to do well in tasks and affairs undertaken and to soar above challenges are but manifestations of the true inner want to rise beyond circumstances with the eventual aim to prove better than oneself. It is ingrained in the psyche of humans and lurking somewhere in the deep recesses of the mind that the ultimate rival and only opponent necessary to triumph over is the self and all other victories scored in everyday life are but points accumulated in the grand contest within.

While the competitions against time and self are both simultaneously in progress, many other competitions occur in people’s daily lives and tend to serve duo purposes of enforcing and distracting them from the two main ongoing encounters. Competitions can take the form of sports, where individuals or teams go up against each other in a certain sport such as in track & field, tennis or football; it can also take the shape of music and singing competitions, the outline of competing sale revenues in an insurance office or the shadow of examinations typical in school halls. Competition is undeniably a human construct with the specific purpose of satisfying the natural appetite to feel good about oneself and to better oneself. They were created to focus the mind and being for a period of time onto a purpose, that is to improve and eventually emerge victorious in the competition arena meticulously crafted. People are born with an inherent restlessness and a need for activity and purpose; competition is the exact creation to fulfill this need and bring calm and peace to the restlessness that otherwise would run rampant. The human mind has the natural tendency to question the causes and reasons for it’s own existence and this leads inevitably to frustration and unrest as the answer is metaphysical in nature and cannot be ascertained by mortal determinants. To make existence more bearable and give some meaning to life, humans create surmountable obstacles everywhere and the attempts to clear such hurdles and achievement of mini objectives are but small competitions against the self, circumstances and environment in themselves.

It is a revelation to realize the fundamental nature and beginnings of competition and how they are very much intertwined; it never fails to amaze how they arise out of each other. The lost cause against the unstoppable advancement of Death upon every human being creates the competition against time, which in it’s very nature breeds the competition against the self to better oneself and maximize the human experience; this manifests and materializes itself in the form of visible, tangible human-constructed competition such as sports and other competitive activities.

It is deeply ironic and paradoxical that the very unconquerable nature of Death in which humans have failed to overcome has been the main driving force of competition and progress. Even with the advent of technology and huge advancements in the field of genetic engineering and medicine, the two fundamental competitions that every human has against the ticking hands of the clock and with himself will stay constant in their presence, albeit conscious or subconscious to the mind. It is as such safe to propose that competition does not simply play a part in people’s daily lives; competition is the very essence life is made from and is itself one big competition; as long as humans do not triumph over death, there always will be competition in this world, either within or without.

It Shouldn’t Have Been This One Sided

(This post is a simple scribble of what I think after reading an online blog post of a girl’s perspective of her breakup where she places the entire blame on the boy for cheating on her. I am not very clear of what transpired in the relationship, but here are just some thoughts on how perhaps it shouldn’t have been this one sided.)

_________________

You claim that in this play for two there entered a third party, someone who lit the place ablaze with a venomous flame of passion and desire and destroyed all that is beautiful;

You accuse your other half of taking her to secret places where he used to take you (and only you) when the play first began, and pointed the finger at him for touching her in places with the fingers he once used to trace your curves and bumps;

You say that his declarations of love to you became false and forced, merely echoes in empty halls of lifeless portraits of happy moments of love which once were real and alive;

You think the reason why he doesn’t love you anymore is that he has found someone with a hotter pair of legs and a firmer set of boobs or maybe even someone with a face prettier than yours.

But all that shouldn’t just be about him:

You never listened to him when he told you that love can sometimes expire without even the faintest hint or the lightest trace of wind if the quarrels persist to tear down the lovely moments of affection and tenderness between the two of you;

You did not try to understand him when he said that he loved you but the forces of incompatibility were too strong for even the strongest set of bonds between the most smitten of hearts;

You could not give him the trust a man needed when he told you there was only you and him in this play of love and that on the stage shared between you and him there really was no one else.

For all that you have thrown at him, he has gone off the stage for good now and the play is over;

All that is left now is a broken heart, a lonely character and an empty scene.. It shouldn’t have been this one sided.

Space and Shoe Box

(Just 5 minutes before bed)

I don’t want to even imagine how you
Just severed ties with him when the relationship ended
Leaving him without a final message or a last letter
Choosing to just disappear totally from his life entirely;

It did appear like he chose to move on and push you aside
So you did likewise to move on and leave the memories behind
Like a locked away space somewhere in the depths of your heart
You chose to put that affair away and take it like it happened – never;

A blank space on your side and a shoe box on his:
What happened between you two became nothing more (to you) than an emptiness
While what took place between the two hearts became little more (to him) than
A shoe box of little messages and cards that contains a paleness of yesterday;

I am not sure what is filling the blank space of your heart right now,
Neither am I sure what is filling the shoe box of his memories there now;

His last attempt to fill up the space once again and add to the shoe box once more.

Used To

I never could understand what you used to tell me,
About what you used to think and what you used to feel,
Simply because I never considered things from your point of view,
Or your feelings about certain things and certain times;

I am starting to do so right this moment –
But I’m afraid it is a little too late for all these now,
Where it’s all said and done and what’s left
Are little shredded pieces of memories and times past;

I don’t know – maybe some things cannot be recovered,
Where time is like a land which never can be reclaimed,
Something lost to the echoes of the walls in the room
Like the memories that play in the recesses of your mind;

You’ll never know when the future stops and the past replays,
Or where the present lies in the labyrinth of space and time,
And so I suppose all that you can do is
To attempt to pick up the pieces and put together a broken picture;

It used to be perfect.