blog shifted to www.impassible-mound.blogspot.com

there are moments when we feel the bristles of greatness brushing at us, when we're in the presence of a force so magnetic and strong it stirs the essence within us. we listen in awe to every account, cling on to each syllable with dear life and hear with such intent that every nuance and inflexion is measured as finely as a tuned instrument.

we seek to become a part of that greatness even as we look within and realise we will never jump across the chasm that separates and distinguishes. we mention the great person often, hoping that people will speak of us in the same mention - he too knew of those great deeds - at the same time chastising ourselves for even yearning to devalue such greatness by aspiring to be of the same league.

and next comes the emptiness and the sorrow that we are not flesh and bones but stick figures only, unable to withstand what barrage this world throws at us. we even cringe as we listen, what more can we expect of ourselves to experience.

when greatness blows in, it is only for a moment before it slips out. greatness is the nimble whirlwind that engages each establishment and inverts our roofs so as to reveal what mettle lies within us.

the frosted window pane

i can almost imagine myself becoming a repository of nothing but past experiences.

the last few days have struck a nostalgic chord within me, one that looks towards the future to seek out what will change and how that will affect me. the people that i've unexpectedly let into my life and those habits which now seem hard to dissociate from. the veritable comfort of what now seems like a more than decent lifestyle weighed against the uncertainty that promises. many issues come to mind, from very practical ones such as how to spend time, to deeper, less transient matters such as who and what to hang on emotionally to.

it seems like people are more pragmatic then romantic. perhaps it is just their nature, but perhaps it is a constant struggle whose easiest resolution is to ignore what appears to be the most natural inclination.

do people need other people? or have we given purpose and reason to everyone? or have people become nothing but a buttress to ourselves, giving definition to our personalities such that we lose a part of what defines us whenever we asunder the relationships we have with people, be they our friends or enemies.

reading

the beauty of words strung together in impossible combinations to tell a million different stories. there's nothing in life quite like the feeling you get after reading a good piece of prose. to feel a glimmer of what the author is submerged in. to be washed up on a desert isle with nothing but the licking waves of the sea for you to guess what the ocean can be like. and in moments of boredom, moments when all you seem to seek is for that little bit of splendour to remind you that there is something beautiful in this world, there will always be the power of words to fall in love with all over again.

sixty-three: a new day

i couldn't help feeling that this is a new page turned. the start of school today has pushed aside the madness of the past 4 months and more recently, orientation, being an OGL, and all the other orientation stuff which accompanies a new batch. it was a relaxing day today, without too much school, and just the right mix of friends and post-school activities. and add to that the slight tinge of rain. this new year seems exciting, with much left uncertain, and much new things to learn, and of course, the chance to start anew.

and i've decided to start a journal again, so the already sparse postings here shall become even fewer and further between.

sixty-two:

things don't always make sense, and are often not thought thouroughly through, yet sometimes we crash in life knowingly, expectantly, just hoping, and perhaps wrongly, that because we are still young and have time on our side, that it will eventually redeem us of whatever pain we cause to ourselves and others.

what hurts me most inside is that we will no longer make any lasting memory together.

sixty-one: how did one year of medicine pass so uninspiringly by?

something felt lacking as i flipped through photos i took from the year 2004, when i was still in JC. armed only with a primitive point and shoot camera before the days of my digital one, i ended up with hardly perfect shots. many were often blur, shaky and it needed my annotations on the side to make out what the photo was all about.

most of my photos then were about the many things my class used to do. this birthday celebration in the swensen's at holland v (one too many in that same place now i realise), or that class outing to a poshier restuarant to mark the end of the common test. i guess that's what i wish i have, a place where all was familiar and warm. a group of friends i'd be able to meet regularly, daily, people whom i knew and people who knew me.

one year of medicine has gone and another has come by. why don't i see myself wishing that medicine school would stay on forever the way i wish that i could bring myself back to those gates of rjc, put on my uniform, and enjoy the unexpectedness of each day. medicine has been methodical, safe, and stale.

what will another year do to me?

sixty: in shanghai

time is the hythm we march to. just something that popped into my head. it does sound rather silly now, all poseur and presuming.

it seemed queer this morning when i realised that i've moved two steps away from what should be the norm of my life. one step was when school was out, and the other is now, that i'm in china and have been in china for a while now, enough to begin to feel the settling in of a new routine. not that i do want to remain here, i'm excited to be getting back home soon.

i can't think of anything else to write at this moment so this is it. i do get flashes of thought which i must spell out occasionally but nothing at this moment.