The Only

Dust that sweat off your brow

Dry your eyes and beam

Emit that radiant smile hearty chuckle

You've come to own

Tears or not

Fears or not

The wind caresses still,

As the leaves rustle by

So will the sun kiss your cheek

So will the clouds scamper

In delirious delight

Run along now happy arms

Flail yourselves in candid summon

Remarkable feet race to earth's end

Glow little flame

As she musters strength inordinate

Happy Birthdays to resilent calm

Greater than bravado is dancing courage

That flinches none.

i am scared of operations.fear makes u alone.

When it gets dark and the world is quiet,I stand and stare out of my window and watch the sky. Most people search for that bed of stars across the sky,but I don't really know what I am looking for. A cloud maybe. Or many of them. Clouds comfort me. They are a burst of fluff,sometimes I see them in different guises; a little boy on a dragon with twin heads,or a sea of dandelions on a perfect flowerbed,and just sometimes I see an occasional parched back of a hunched dame. In times like these I wonder if the regular beating of my heart made me aware of things in a semiconscious state or I am really flitting in a dream,riding on the back of a mermaid on a passing cloud.

The trees and their willowy branches sway almost in unison to the echo of my thoughts. I even feel the stirring of the universe. It is both asleep and alive. While some go about in juxtaposition; awake but comatose. I do not think I am one of those,but close. I am losing some of that spark that keeps me jumping and shrieking in ecstasy about life,vigour and almost anything. Vitality I think. I wonder,and ponder about so many random things. In the still of the night,that is. I wonder about the face of evil,the cruelty done to innocent impressionable children,I wonder about the US wall st crisis and the elections, I wonder about my career,if what I am doing is a genuine representation of myself. I wonder about my girlfriends,if they are leading safe and happy lives, I wonder about my mum and if she's doing something about her health. My brother and how admirable he is to hold himself so well under such pressure as he monitors the oil prices. I wonder about that boy who told me I helped him find sense in life, I wonder about quiet and stoic nature he's had had for years and told me I managed to tap through the wallish exterior.And then I wonder about the various philosophies I've come to know over the years.

I wonder about life,humans and civilization and if the world would come to a bloody end had there been no order, according to Hobbes. I wonder about life and humans and the idea of intellectual property and if the world would be in chaos without the exchange of mutual benefits according to Locke. I wonder about life and humans the world we live in,if perhaps Foucault was right in saying the use and abuse of methods forced people to succumb to what we have come to perceive as "law". I wonder if he was right that the creation of prison in turn created prisoners rather than the latter to the former. I wonder about the spice girls and how they proclaim to be an emblem of feminism establishing the epicurean school of thought by using sexuality as a weapon to inverse power from men back into their hands. I wonder about the Chinese Olympics and how everyone lauded them only to realize they had covered up a grand spectacular botch about the milk scandal. I wonder about uproar going on in the Japanese and Thai governments and the Bagdad bombings as well as the ever trouble inflicted Russia-and her neighbours- saga.

I wonder about the demise of the familiar white rabbit candy I have had always loved to suck on in my growing years and the tainted reputation it shall never recover from. I wonder about the 53000 babies that have been sick from the milk poisoning. I wonder why people who subscribe to Marx say they are Marxists and Marx says he is not necessarily Marxist and others who believe in some form of the Marx's philosophy of a proleteriat revolution but not necessarily all of its applications call themselves Marxian. I wonder about the Marx-Engels idea of the capitalists and the problems and repurcussions that might come with their profiteering. I wonder about OJ Simpson and if he had perhaps really killed Nicole his ex wife and the recent verdict that pronounced him guilty of a different charge. I wonder about people and their grudges anger,about hip hop being a genre yet music and lyrics become real life gangstas and the hood,and that 9 shots on 50 cent. Yes,and asian music and how anything alternative and not cheesy poppish mainstream becomes immediate alienated and unmarketable. I wonder about why some friends from UK are the nicest people I have met ever suffer a reputation indicated by the rest of the world as "snobby brits",I wonder about my vacation to New York City and ponder how I walked the streets at 3am safely night after night in the darkest alleys but got stalked exasperatingly day after day in Singapore. I wonder about the nicest Cantonese dish I've tried in LA and wonder why I had nasty dimsum in Hong Kong. I wonder why the guy everyone said was a player became the guy who told me he wished I was ready to settle down. I wonder why diet cokes were always drunk by my friends who were slightly heavier and my thin as lynn friends would drink anything but still remain thin as lynn. I wonder why when I'm going out of my way to help a lady open the door to her cab,since she had her arms full of shopping bags, she glared and thought I was stealing her cab. I wonder wonder wonder why some artistes think everyone is constantly talking about them and that everyone must constantly talk about them.:) And then u meet them and they think it's weird u're not completely gushing over them.Well.i wonder too how some artistes are so amazingly successful but dressed in the deepest humility and would tell u,they are still learning with such sincerity. Indeed I will never stop wondering until all the sheep are noted.

goodnight.

My brother told me when I was younger not to "get angry,but get even" when people agitate u. But that was when we were really really young and he had not(I suspect) meant this saying to be a central focus in my life. It isn't and cannot be because I've been taught since young that u have to forgive people like nuts because "Jesus would do it too" according to mum,aunt and all the religious people in our family. I think I grew up with the mentality that I am never supposed to be angry,have no right to get angry because it would mean "sinning" or rebelling.

U know how that feels?

It means tolerating everything and even carrying false untruths on your shoulders "because the truth will set u free" according to mum when people do find out later. But here is how I see it. Sometimes the truth will never come to be,simply because overtime noone cares. The only one that cares is the person or accused. In this case,I feel sorry for the accused. It's retarded, in my point of view. I know I will definitely protect my kids and teach them how to stand up to bullies. Cause their mother was never very good at it and often had to be so bloody nice and smiley until she is wondering what is up with that!!!!!!

It's a very complicated feeling.

I am even feeling guilty for being in-tolerant,in the face of trivial mean-ness.Now,if I had done something to deserve it, maybe I would feel better. But why even borther with a stupid remark that was so uncalled for and unworthy right?

Because I let it go the first 2 times already. This person struck again.

That's why I ....AM.....ANGRY.

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Friend: Just do your album and it's sweet revenge

Me: Doesn't work that way. I work on something,I create something not for the sake of silly gossip mongers.

Friend: Why don't u confront?

Me: Whatever for?

Friend: Duh,it's making u angry and I've seen this scenario happening for like 100s of times. Is it so important to be so "nice"? U're like this persian carpet,really classy and expensive that people walk all over u,plus cats always pee on persian carpets.

Me: I don't like persian carpets,they have a history of using child labour.

Friend: Don't sidetrack idiot.

Me: I am not!

Friend: *sighs* I go scold him for u.

Me: U? *laughs* 

Friend: What is so wrong with that?Everyone gets slammed girl,but some people just don't borther. I understand that this isn't the first time the person has insulted your intellect so, scolding him is justifiable. Even the nicest people gets slammed. But the point is,if is borthering u,then do something to protect and defend yourself.

Me: I feel better already.

Friend: U persian carpet. U just have no balls. U just don't like to antagonize. I don't buy your peace lovin world piece shi* sometimes. But then I'm not as big hearted as u. If he antagonizes u again,I'll go set fire to his house.

I gasped.

Friend: I'm kidding of course. But seriously,noone will care about him. See,we care about YOU!

Me: Sigh. I guess I'm not such a big person, I feel tired of being a carpet.

Friend: I'll protect u.

Me: So lesbian.

Friend: U're a fag hag. Call your army.

Me: HAHAHAHA. NEVER. The world will be in pieces. And,how do u know if he isn't gay?

Friend: Hmm,I'm sure he isn't from Taiwan.

Me: He isn't. But why ask that.

Friend: Because he would not survive in TW with a mouth like that. He would be crucified long ago.

Me: This is such wisdom,your words. Hahahahhaa

A friend asked me today why I wrote poetry or music or anything in text filled with angst and almost anger. Well fury was the word he said. But I chuckled and said to him that it was BETTER I sounded angry,or as peeved when I felt a certain way and expressed it through an art form than venting it out on someone innocent or a family member, friend.

How ironic. When we often encourage our friends to take their minds off unhappy things,or even silly trivial petty issues,such as little molehills (getting bad service,ripped off,taking the rap for something u had not done ect) they start writing their pent up feelings in songs and poetry, we censor them again and say, Hey,don't be so angry in your songs or poetry will u?

Typical.

When will we realize our ironies and our contradicting statements?The truth is,when people do let out their true feelings in their art as outlets,they are healthier than caging the repressed emotions and letting them decay for years. I am saying this in solid defence of my poetry and songs where most people question me once too many times in reference to the degree of rage they were written. I know they are thinking I must be some weirdass freako for being cheery and sugar and spice in person but mad as a mongrel when I write.Haha,let me explain the extremity.

The truth is I really really really like bright,cheery and positive thinking. But not in that pleasantville, Stepford wife kindda way. I believe that everything emanating from within must contain light and honesty,truth. Anger is an emotion to be reconciled and acknowledged. We do not glorify anger but neither should we deny its existence. The poetry I wrote the other day (refer 2 blogs ago) entitled Thisbe's Anger was a product of my sentiments upon hearing silly gossip about me. It was not even anything malicious but plain silly gossip,neverthless hurt me still. The team surrounding me knows how I hole myself up like Lao Zi,like a hermit fearing the wrath of unnecessary negativity and  pointless gossip (and being even a patron just by listening) because I simply feel uncomfortable. Call me a coward but I would retreat into my little shell when I know the energy is potentially gravitating towards that direction. I like hanging out with people who are energetic,fun,gregarious and full of vigour and life.

Some friends in the industry said it's just silly fun to gossip and rat about other people once in a while since "they might already have done the same to u or in future will) but I always believe in the cycle and repurcussions of random viciousness. Karma. If u started out being mean for fun towards others,u might get bullied for fun later too.

Anyway,I'm a frank,very direct person. I'm not as tactless as to tell u in your face in a desensitized way that I think U're a christmas tree or that u should grow webbed feet and quack like a duck, but I will really be upfront about things I like or not like.

So,this fellow that has addressed himself as my "good friend" started this spate of pointless rumours about how useless I am and that he doubted I even went to university and that I'm a vase,an air head. And since I've always been smiley and not fierce and bitchy in person, I seem to have no claws. Oh but,I too am a girl. Remember "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned", Thisbe's Anger is/was dedicated to him. And after I expressed my unhappiness, I'm all good now.

*The platypus is holding the fort in such deniable potentially combustible force. The need to  explode is sometimes so great especially in the light of such mofos who question her ability to function as a living,breathing being. Stupidity is infectious,almost like a cancer. The platypus thinks if she could isolate all that stupid cells created to destroy people pointlessly she could fill the entire pacific and indian oceans with them and the dead sea would have a new successor.