Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
她看了看他：“好吧，聽說新開了一家「離婚酒店」，專門執行離婚夫婦的最後一頓晚餐，要不咱們到那兒去看看。 ” 他點了點頭，兩人一前一後默默地走進了離婚酒店。
“對不起先生女士，我們離婚酒店有個規矩，這頓飯必須要由女士點先生平時最愛吃的菜，由先生點女士平時最愛吃的菜，這叫「最後的記憶」。 ” ¬
“那好吧，” 她理了理頭髮，“清蒸魚、溜蘑菇、拌木耳，記住，都不要放蔥薑蒜，我先生.. 這位先生他不吃這些。”
“我.. ..” 他一把握住她的手，有些說不出話來..
“別怕！”他緊緊摟住她：“ 親愛的，有我呢.. 走，往外衝！”
“我願意，我現在什麼都明白了，明天一早咱就去辦結婚。小姐，買單..” 他說著喊了起來。 ¬
他看著帳單，眼淚淌了下來。 “你怎麼了？” 她連忙問道。他把帳單遞給了她：“親愛的，我錯了，我對不起你..”
Sunday, February 20, 2011
"...You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes."
— Rosemary Urquico
Thanks for the tag. ;)
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Therein lies a sliver of glass
Amongst the moon-coloured grass
Translucent, luminous, deadly.
Why, do you remember
The tales of yesternight?
Of quiet screams and loud silence?
Swathed in their purple robes of moonlight
The silvery wisps of grass remain tranquil
Bearing rust-stained crowns upon their heads
An elegance rivalled only by kings and queens.
And the tiny piece of glass
Grinned as radiantly
As only glass can.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
My youth is useless if I can't have my loved ones with me.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Jane Eyre stepped into Thornfield as a governess and was attracted to Edward Rochester, her employer of substantial status and wealth. Jane herself was of an ambiguous class for while she possessed the delicate manners and sophisticated education akin to an aristocrat due to the very nature of her career, she remained a paid employee and more or less a servant at Thornfield. However, while intellectually equal, she was not quite his social and economical equal. The young maiden was worried that she would be indebted to him by “condescending” to marry Rochester. She rejected Rochester’s nickname for and refused to be called an ‘angel’ simply because she thought it compromised herself and she did not wish to lose her identity in the process. This possibility was further impeded by the fact that Rochester already been married to Bertha Mason. While Rochester was legally bound to Mason, Jane would only be a mistress had she accepted Rochester. This was not in accordance with the equal partnership that Jane had envisioned and therefore, it was not an ideal marriage. The damsel had to leave Thornton Hall to seek her fortune elsewhere due to the unfavorable circumstances.
Another marriage conferred in the novel would obviously be the marriage between Rochester and Bertha Antoinetta Mason. While by Victorian society’s standards this may have been an ideal marriage, it was certainly not so as depicted in Bronte’s illustrious novel. As was typical of Victorian marriages, it was nothing more than a financially beneficial match. Apart from the fact that they had nothing in common and Rochester could not stand her, Bertha had a family history of psychiatric problems and she soon showed signs of madness. Therefore, it was an unsuccessful marriage for they were not intellectual equals and Rochester had to seek gratification in the few mistresses he acquired.
Blanche Ingam’s marriage with Rochester was a fleeting possibility that made a brief appearance in the novel, Jane Eyre. This was however, unfeasible as it was centered upon economical and class factors, rather than actual passion. Rochester also had an affair with Celene Varens, a French opera dancer who was unfaithful to him and was merely interested in his money. This relationship too, lacked the passion that was the foundation of a good marriage and hence considered to be inappropriate.
Next, one would be inclined to momentarily examine the possibility of St. John Rivers with Miss Oliver. St. John did love her, but he was unable to give up his dreams of being a missionary for her. A marriage between St. John and Jane was consequently considered. Nevertheless, it did not have the equality and love that Jane sought. St. John was overtly bound to his duties and he merely viewed Jane as an instrument in achieving the greater good. He wanted Jane to stop learning German and learn Hindustani instead. Jane as a result, felt as if she had lost her individuality and thus, a marriage between the religiously devout St. John and the headstrong Jane Eyre would not have had been ideal.
The audacious female protagonist eventually returned to Rochester after she was reunited with her relations and had inherited a substantial amount of money. Rochester on the other hand, was blinded in an accident that had burnt down Thornfield. Those various factors caused the fair maiden and the gentleman to finally achieve a status of equality where. Bertha as a barrier had been removed for the general message of the novel would not have had come across as strongly as it had otherwise. Her divorce, rather than her demise, would not have viable as it may have added on to the immoralities upon Rochester’s scroll. Charlotte Bronte perfectly penned the conclusion of this novel by destroying all that was unseemly through a fire. One might even venture to compare the fire with the fiery passion between Jane and Edward Rochester for it was the fire that conveniently humbled Rochester and removed the mental walls between the both of them. To quote, “We are precisely suited in character, perfect concord is the result.”
*Note that I have yet to include an analysis of Miss Temple's marriage in this novel.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
I appreciate my parents. There is undeniably a generation gap between us and I may not be able to comprehend them at times due to this, but a lack of understanding does not necessitate a lack of love. I know that deep down inside, they love and care for me, even if they do not parade it in ways I can relate to.
I appreciate my friends. They are the people that have been with me through thick-and-thin, the people that are there for me right where it matters. They are the people that make my life so much more colourful and brighten the darkest skies.
In short, thank you, everyone - whoever you are, wherever you may be – thank you for brushing shoulders with me upon the crossroads of Life. So many people have played in part in helping me get through my life and I am sincerely grateful to all of you. I love you all.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
No names are mentioned. This is dedicated to the acquaintance. You may never read this - in fact, it's probably best if you don't, for it might do nothing more than serve as a reminder of the tragedy.
It is truly devastating and I can barely imagine the pain you are going through at the moment. I'm sorry it had to happen. Please stay strong. Remember your friends, and the people around you - we all genuinely care and are willing to be by your side if you need any help. Take care and stay strong. Live life to the fullest - for her sake if not yours.
I am sure she would have wanted you to be happy.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
The breeze brushed its cold fingers across one's senses
With just the right touch of course -
A barest hint of tenderness within icy strictness
Instead of deadening dreams, a wakening.
Off with those sandals
Upon the table as naughty vandals
Yet sit - not perch - with a graceful air
As the weaving of dreams caresses fine hair.
Demurely folded hands upon a lap
Feet tucked neatly beneath her chair
(Chair, did I say, table I mean!)
In imitation of a lady fair.
Umbrellas parade the street ahead disguised
As colourful flowers spreading their petals
Behind, the lush green trees of a miniature forest
Whispered unknown secrets
Rain, wash away this empty longing
Wind, guide every strand of hair where you would
Mist, envelop those wistful musings
Of a young maiden approaching eighteen winters.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
A photograph, deliberately blurred around the edges,
A smile, strangely shadowy and detached.
Tinkling peals of laughter accentuated with sadness,
Those soft enquiring eyes of yesteryears caught unaware.
The maiden I could have been, the lady I am not,
A slight breeze brushing past, as the fingers of destiny intervene.
The briefest glimpse of what would have been had I a different lot,
A soft ache of inexplicable longing, not quite pain.
Alas, this fragile reality entraps me,
A soft web of gossamer silk binds me.
Though somehow I regret not,
Traversing this passage of moonlight as Time passes by.
Muse – Who am I?
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Being told to use specific economical terms to write a story about a boy, my classmates and I came up with this within the stipulated time period:
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Muthusamy Karupiah. He asked his mother for some money. He said, “I demand some money!”
His mother said, “No dear, the current economic status of the country is undergoing inflation because the supply of natural resources is limited. The National Income is facing a major crisis. The price of fabric has increased, so we don’t get much revenue from selling our underwear. The quantity of underwear is limited. It costs a lot to buy underwear, so we can’t make much profit. Muthusamy Karupiah, you should take Economics classes at ATC.”
Muthusamy said, “Oh maaaan.”
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Yes please, I’d like to order a little piece of everything, including nothing. Thank you.
As I have always stressed, our imperfections are what make us perfect, for each and every one of us are unique in our own way. The converse holds true, for perfection in itself is an imperfection. Those elusive luxuries in life that are forever goading us – be it material satisfaction for the poor or emotional satisfaction or perhaps, both – are what make life interesting.
A tiny part of me, the part that belongs to the Air element would occasionally spread my wings and soar up into the clear blue skies, gazing down upon the sands of humanity. I do indeed see pure white little crucibles, finely spread out on the vast land below, literally and figuratively speaking. To rest my head upon the soft fluffy clouds and observe the long stretch of beach civilization is founded upon…
It is fascinating, not to mention refreshing. I do understand how it is to be emotionally unaffected after all. To be unattached to any of those dowdy packages that humans are so often burdened with, winging my way through life. To skim the tips of my wings against the crystalline ocean waters, to brush my tail feathers against the tip of snow-capped mountains….
Fleeting daydreams as such allow me to gain a fresh perspective on life and wonder at the tiny things in life that we seem to place so much importance upon. I am, however, a daughter of Fire and Air with the former dominant most of the time. Really, if you boil everything down to the basics…elements are the perfect way to categorise people. I’m sure there are exceptions, though I have yet to meet one. Most people just need to discover their inner self and find an element that they have an affinity for.
So what happens when fiery passion and empty air meet? An equilibrium, you’d reckon? Not quite…for they are both within my nature and have distinctive qualities of their own. I am a temperamental little flame most of the time, however, and it is only when reality starts to fall apart slightly and daydreams of the wind sneak in through the gaps…
But I understand how it is to be Pure Air. I truly know how it feels to be empty like the wind – no past, no future, only now. The precise feeling of how it is to be indifferent, unaffected, unperturbed, unfazed by developments around me. That in itself, is an irony, for empathy doesn’t exactly belong to Air, no? Perhaps that is one of the many reasons why I consider myself to be both. Because it is a part of me and I am a part of it.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Every tear, every smile is shared between true friends.
You thought your best friend had more than you, but you were wrong.
For all happiness, all sadness is divided equally among friends.
And you have your best friend in addition to all that.
Isn’t that more than enough?
What would be the meaning of friendship, otherwise?
Friday, April 04, 2008
Hopelessly lost. Again. I’m directionally-challenged, so don’t ask me what I was doing hanging around my college’s H block when I was supposed to be all the way across the campus, at the college hall.
Well, I’m glad I took the detour anyway, because I met a couple of really sweet stray dogs along the way. You can meet all sorts of living creatures in my college, ranging from those pesky little blood-suckers to monkeys (As a side-note, I haven’t seen those monkeys recently. O_o I wonder what became of them.)
I gave one of my trademark whines, the ones that often get innocent dogs into trouble when their owners nearby assume their pets are making gratuitous noises. It’s an attention-seeking whine, a “Hey, wanna play with me?” signal.
This lovely white and brown dog approached me and gently nipped at my hand, then clamped its jaws around my skirt, tugging playfully. Consequently, I earned a couple of weird eyeballs and a few spectators.
“Hey, no,” I voiced, smiling good-naturedly at the dog. It obediently released my skirt, looking up at me with those infamous, heart-melting puppy-dog eyes.
Resuming my journey to the Hall of Doom aka Exam Hall, I started thinking about the poor dog and how the general public – the ones that don’t understand dogs – would think.
Sure, I understand that it was merely a friendly gesture – but others may not think the same way. Many would strike out in fear, in an attempt to prevent the dog from “biting” them. Don’t get me wrong, I would never blame anyone for trying to defend themselves against attacks from predators.
Nevertheless, defending is one thing, attacking is another. A warning smack or two on the head, a soft kick, a gentle push – and the dog will certainly get the message. I do not condone the abuse of those sweet little creatures (Unless they’re rabid, then by all means, take a gun and shoot them. O_o ). It’s inhuman and cruel. After all, dogs have the intelligence of a seven year old, and they’d certainly comprehend if you admonished them appropriately.
Regrettably, the deterioration of morality is rampant within the current society. I have seen people fling knives at dogs, causing the poor canine to have a knife embedded firmly into its back. I have seen individuals throwing boiling water at them, consequently leaving the poor dogs with no fur and a painfully red skin.
Just recently, there was this plump and friendly puppy that I’d fallen in love with. It was the brightest and sweetest thing I’d ever seen apart from Shadow. The aforementioned puppy disappeared though, and I found a undernourished version of it lying by the gutter a few days later, all but dead.
It had been raining and there were pools of water in its ears. The poor thing was so weak it could barely move. My mother and I tried our very best to nurse it back to heath, but the puppy could barely swallow the milk we gave it. It died a couple of hours later, taking with it a piece of our hearts.
My guess is that one of the fiends out there that claim to be human had kicked it and ruptured its intestines or something. I will personally track down any animal-abuser out there and give it (Yes, IT, for said abusers do not have hearts or brains, therefore they are not fit to be consider homo-sapiens with gender differences.) my trademark double-penguin-kick. I just hope I happen to be wearing my boots (or good heels, at least) when I meet them.
Humanity, or the lack of it, thereof, is saddening.
A far-fetched dream,
Dissolving into the emptiness of reality.
A trickling, flowing stream,
Softening into the chamber of thought.
An icy-cold rain,
Melting into the solidity of warmth.
A heart-sharpened pain,
Liquefying into the medicines of time.
A silently whispered name,
Blending into the divinity of vibrations.
A temperamental, fiery flame,
Diffusing into the tenderness of darkness.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Dedicated exclusively to SJ8C-rians:
Dear Shadow. He was such an obedient and adorable dog. There will always be this tiny twitch in my heart that will never be resolved… The only dog I ever loved more than I did him was (and is) Bingo.
*Shadows* cloud life’s lane as I traverse this difficult journey, weaving in and out through thorns and heavy undergrowths threatening to smother me. I once walked alone, or so it seemed, for my loved ones could do nothing more than proffer me sympathetic glances. They could not offer me much physical assistance, for they were too far away to help…
Suddenly, I was not alone. Not anymore. There were warm arms ready to hold me up when I faltered, a strong shoulder for me to lean against when I felt weary… SJ8C. I owe you guys so much. I love you all. You guys are the best classmates I ever had and probably will ever have.
Perhaps I am getting a little too emo for my own good. I have no idea how to write all this down…how to put all of this into words. I can only type out the thoughts as they run through my brain: Uncut, unvarnished, not up to standards... but certainly effective.
I will always be a part of SJ8C, although I know not whether I am acknowledged any longer. A portion of my heart will always be with you guys.
Thank you so much for being there for me right where it truly matters. Thank you for being my friends, true friends. Thank you for showing me that there is still friendship in existence, that true hearts lie beneath the superficial layers of humanity. Thank you for being the reason why I can face the new day with courage and strength and a small smile upon my face.
It hurts to leave you all. I know I’ll have to get used it and I am grateful that at least, we parted while memories were still sweet. I just…love you all so much, more than anyone can ever truly understand. I hope I won’t lose the source, the source of my happiness. I wish I won’t lose it, ever. A vain hope, a vain wish…
On a side note, I had to attend a class with the juniors the other day. I don’t think I like them very much, considering the chaos they caused with our unfortunate Biology lecturer. Perchance, she doesn’t really have good English. But who are they to criticise her English when they do not have perfect English themselves? I do not claim that my English is perfect. I believe, however, that my English is better than them at any rate, considering I’m only good at languages.
Everyone has their own weaknesses. I would never have dreamt of insulting an unfortunate fellow human just because she happened to possess unsatisfactory language skills. Nobody is perfect. Incidentally, why is a Biology lecturer required to speak the Queen’s English? Honestly, I’ll gladly debate them any day and make them sit up a bit. Would you believe it? Even the sentences that they used to criticise my lecturer’s English were grammatical mistakes in themselves. Dear children, I’d advise you to return to grade school and come back after you’ve learnt your grammar.
They were an insufferably rude bunch of immature children. Whatever her faults were, there is never any acceptable excuse for being rude. A little bit of consideration and common courtesy goes a long way. I find it fascinating that those uncouth youths are actually supposed to be elder than me. Juniors will always be juniors…
My friends keep telling me to keep my head down. Well, I never! I was angry and indignant on behalf of the poor lecturer. How dare they do this to her? It’s her first job after all, the unfortunate girl… At least half the lecture hall went quiet after my icy glare and pointed “They think they’re so perfect?” I got an earful from my friends after that, of course. They told me I should keep my mouth shut and not involve myself in matters as such. I agree with them, but I don’t regret my words. However, I shall try my very best to shut up and keep my temper in check, for they are right, after all.
Still, it was pretty satisfying to see the half of the lecture hall that heard me have some sense knocked into their brains. I do not regret my words, though I suppose it wasn’t a very wise thing to do. They deserved it and more, at any rate.