Dedication

You have my sincerest condolences. I don't even know you that well myself, but I teared upon realising that the person in question was in fact, someone I knew, and also the beloved of another acquaintance of mine.

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.

冰淇淋

冰冷的冰淇淋，滋润人的心田，甜入烘热的心窝。

My Library is Non-Existent because that's My Room

What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm You're probably in the final stages of a Ph.D. or otherwise finding a way to make your living out of reading. You are one of the literati. Other people's grammatical mistakes make you insane.
What Kind of Reader Are You? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Rain

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.

A dream of the past.

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?

An Economics Lesson

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.”

隐形的翅膀

每一次
都在徘徊孤单中坚强
每一次
就算很受伤
也不闪泪光

我知道
我一直有双隐形的翅膀
带我飞
飞过绝望

*不去想
他们拥有美丽的太阳
我看见
每天的夕阳
也会有变化
我知道
我一直有双隐形的翅膀
带我飞
给我希望
我终于
看到
所有梦想都开花
追逐的年轻
歌声多嘹亮
我终于
翱翔
用心凝望不害怕
哪里会有风
就飞多远吧*

隐形的翅膀
让梦恒久比天长
留一个
愿望
让自己想象

A piece of me, a piece of you.

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.

To have more than your best friend.

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?

Of Dogs and Humanity

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.

Paradox

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.

A tribute to my beloved SJ8C. Thank you for being a part of my life.

Dedicated exclusively to SJ8C-rians:

离

水月相随永不分,

茫茫苍海亦不断;

犹如良伴知心人,

凉风掀起轻呼唤.

天下无不散宴席,

但却无不叹宴客;

送君千里虽佳习,

终需有一别之刻.

绵绵泪水细如雨,

心中乱麻杂如草;

山伯英台欲成鱼,

痛恨离别分离朝.

抽刀断水水更流,

举杯消愁愁更愁;

君若痛恨离别酒,

更是深叹离别惆.

天长地久有时尽,

此恨绵绵无绝期;

离别自古诗人吟,

世世代代诗人提.

学海生涯点点滴,

小女子没齿难忘;

多少回忆记心底,

如那凶涌澎湃浪.

当年君所许之诺,

当年闻所芳花香;

离别在即若曾过,

妹子在此愿君谅.

A peek into the past. SJ8C

The pain never really goes away, you just get used to it…

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.

Of Ice and Mates.

I was already waiting at the Kelana Jaya LRT station just before nine o’clock. Needless to say, I was the earliest person to arrive. We were supposed to meet at nine, and my classmates were actually pretty early by Malaysian standards, arriving between nine fifteen to nine thirty. My actual fear was that they’d stand me up so I was pretty relieved when I received various phone calls informing me of their whereabouts.

I’m touched. Yet again, proof that my classmates are wonderful people who truly accept me as a friend. All those simple gestures that others take for granted do not escape me because of…my past experiences. People might think I get a little emo if they knew how easily touched I am, yet they don’t know how hard, how lonely it is to have had no friends. I still remember the instant a classmate of mine poked his head into the staffroom and said casually, “Oh, hi, Michelle. I thought I’d find you here.” Tears of gratitude had welled up in my eyes at his friendly words, though I did not let them fall. It was the knowledge that someone did not despise me or walk away but instead came for me and bestowed upon me a simple smile. TAR College was one of the first bits of warmth I had ever received.

Finally, my friends turned up. Four girls – the four ‘M’s! – Mei Ping (red), Maia (black), Min Yunn (green), Me (blue), and two guys, Chin Xin (black), Jeff (grey). Unfortunately, Ichiro, Ken Wey and Chris did not turn up, though they were supposed to be there. The colour of our clothes that I’d put in brackets above gave me a déjà vu feeling – very DB-like.

The bus was just about to leave when we made our way to the bus stop so the six of us hopped on happily, Maia complaining about hunger and threatening to murder at least one of us. We had brunch upon arrival at Sunway at Long John Silver’s before setting foot in the ice-skating rink.

I’ve always liked the feel of the cold air brushing her icy fingers across my face, even back then when I couldn’t skate for toffee. Perhaps I have an affinity for snow and all things ice. It is ironic how I’m easily affected by the cold, actually. I suppose that’s why I’m “of fire” as well as “of snow”.

Due to not having ice-skated in quite some time, I was a little nervous as I stepped unto the ice. Gingerly but surely, I placed a foot firmly upon the cold, frozen waters. It was as if I’d been skating all my life, although I could barely ice-stumble just months ago. It felt so easy, so natural…my balance was so firm I really found it hard to believe that earlier this year, I was slipping all over the place and telling anyone who would listen that I would never, never be a decent skater. Bad as I generally am at sports, I never thought I could have learnt how to skate in such a short time – that proves how easy ice-skating actually is. Hey, if I, the World Champion Sports Loser can do it…

Chin Xin, Jeff and I were fair skaters (Trust me to be to be grouped under the “guys”), so it was up to us to teach the others. Maia could hold her own, so our jobs were mainly to look after Mei Ping and Min Yunn in turns. Two of us would guide and the third would be free to skate about.

I like “teaching” people the basics of ice-skating. It helps me improve my own skills as everything has to be Perfect with a capital letter or the “students” would be a terribly misguided bunch. Teaching them how to get into the rhythm helps ME to be more guarded about my steps and be more graceful. I do have a tendency to lapse into clumsy skating and I have a weak right lead. Once upon a time, I used to skate like a lame duck. As a matter of fact, I still do occasionally, when I forget and favour my left leg.

Just when I was guiding Mei Ping, a girl bumped into my poor friend, who fell against me and in turn made me twist my right ankle momentarily, though I managed to remain standing because of my firm balance. I looked up indignantly at the retreating back of the offender who didn’t even seem to have notice what had happened before turning to Mei Ping. My companion was not so fortunate and was sitting on the ice with an anguished look on her face. Despite my best efforts, the poor girl couldn’t stand. By this time, Jeff and a rink guard had already arrived and they helped her out of the rink. I was asked to identify the rude and dangerous skater and I described her at length to the rink guard.

Mei Ping turned out to have dislocated her knee cap and twisted her ankle. Maia was so angry she sought out the culprit and demanded an apology. Well, the offender had the guts to deny she’d bumped into my friend. She admitted to “passing by” but not bumping into her. Of all the nonsense! I’ve guided many newbies in my day and I know the difference between my wards falling down of their own accord in comparison to being bumped. Besides, there was my brief ankle twist to be reckoned for. Only a very hard knock into my ward would have made me stagger in such a fashion. If my ward had slipped on her own, I would have either have fallen with her or remained standing, not doing an impromptu ankle twist!

The culprit also claimed that she was a newbie to if she had bumped into Mei Ping, she would surely have fallen herself. Rubbish. I told her flatly that that people do not necessarily fall over after bumping into others and left it at that for she was being stubborn and refused to apologise. Is it that hard to say “I’m sorry?” Of course, my classmates and I were rather annoyed at the girl’s behaviour.

After a while, Mei Ping claimed that she felt better and told us to continue skating. There was no reason for the five of us to sit there and watch a bruise form, after all. We bade her to be very careful and yell if it continued to hurt before we went back to skate.

By this time, Min Yunn had already grasped a little of Ice-skating 101 (told you ice-skating was easy as long as you have a guide) so the three “teachers” took a break and we convened in the middle of the rink. Spotting the obnoxious skater who was skating dangerously around the rink at top speed again despite being inexperienced, we decided to harass her a little. The three of us skated around her side like hawks circling their prey. As she knew quite well we were Mei Ping’s friends, we hoped she felt pretty pressured and stressed then. We were not breaking any rules, nor did we harm her. All we did was skate in her vicinity…skate a little too close for comfort. Quite mischievous of us, I know.

She decided to hold onto her friend’s hand next. Jeff flew past them into a small space and ducked, coming out intact. The inexperienced girls shrieked and went down in a noisy tangle of limbs. Chin Xin, Jeff and I met the centre of the rink, giggling like naughty school children.

Chin Xin then proposed a game of Tag and left no room for objections by poking Jeff’s arm and speeding away. Jeff gave chase and soon, the three of us were engaged in a very exhilarating game of Ice Tag. My feet glided swiftly as I weaved in and out of the crowd, for once, not afraid to fly. Indeed, it was the closest thing to flying. The chilly air was as refreshing as a spring tonic as it whipped against my face. It was a beautiful and enchanting moment.

Mei Ping rejoined us later as she felt better, a little scared of people bumping into her but none the worse for her experience. I brought her into the centre, where only the professionals skated – they could certainly be trusted to swerve or brake in time. Ironic, I know, but hey, my theory worked for not another person contrived to bump into my friend after that.

After our ice-skating session, it was decided that we were to have dinner and watch a movie. The girls went shopping (I gladly included myself among the guys) and we had talks on various interesting topics while we waited for the girls. Dinner was at a hawker centre near The One Academy, consisting of extremely expensive drinks as well as a very rude maidservant who cheeked Jeff and I when we enquired about our food.

At about six forty-five, we settled down in Sunway’s TGV to watch the movie “The Kingdom”.

Not quite my usual taste, but it was quite interesting if you could manage to pay sufficient attention. I almost fell asleep in the middle of the movie (no, it wasn’t that boring, I was just exhausted!) but I managed to stay awake by snitching a couple of sips from a classmate’s drink. Some of the lines are quite amusing :

“If he offers to let you hold his pleasure, do not flinch. It ees an honour.”

The next scene shows a very relieved man holding a hawk carefully.

“Come, I take you to catch the beeg dog.”

“You mean the big fish.”

“… A dog is beegger than a fish.”

*Astonished expression accompanied with wild gestures to show size of ‘dog’ and ‘fish’*

“…Well don’t ask me, I didn’t create that idiom.”

“You vatch Sixty Million Dollar Man?”

“Oh yeah! That’s my shit!”

“…Vat, you need to go to the bathroom? Vee could…”

“No, no, no.”

“If you vant, vee could…”

“No!”

I’m not quite certain of the time I arrived home – I was feeling quite feverish by then. The “customary morning cold” I had when I woke up in the morning had turned out not to be quite so customary after all and I ended up walking about all day with a red nose as I laughed and joked with my classmates. It was probably about ten o’clock when I arrived at the Ampang Park LRT station. I was quite, quite glad to sink into the front seat of my mother’s car then for I’d called ahead and asked her to pick me up.

Thank you all for a wonderful day, people. Friends are just marvellous things to have.

Just Another Day

9 guys + me + awesome college day = DoTA

Naturally. ;)

Another girl tagged along and watched us play for a bit. I didn’t do too bad for someone who hasn’t played Warcraft in ages and only just recently started playing DoTA. When the game ended, we looked around and noticed that the girl was missing, her bag still on the seat she was previously occupying. We tried to call her cell phone, but nobody answered. Scoured the entire cyber café, double-checked the toilets – nada. Kept trying her phone and calling other people to find out if she was with them but to no avail. Called our friends in the hostel and asked them to check up on her to see if she was in the college hostel but they replied in the negative. A search party of some sort went out and checked the entire street, looking into every store and hoping to find her. Well, we decided to try her phone one last time before calling the Wangsa Maju Police Station and…she answered the phone. Apparently she got tired of watching and went off to a nearby comic shop.

Lesson of the day: Don’t wander off without telling anyone? Uh-uh. Don’t ignore your cell phone? Nope. The lesson is…don’t watch people playing DoTA. Join them. :P Kidding.

Andrew, Ken Wey and I walked back to the LRT later…we were amazed when we saw Mun Hon and his girlfriend there, waiting for Wei Zhe. They should have been home hours ago! Apparently they were just as surprised to see us as we were to see them. Someone stole poor Wei Zhe’s LRT pass. It has only been in use for three days and there’s still the rest of the month to go! Mental note to self: Be very, very careful not to let my pass be stolen. It would have been worse for me, considering my IC and college ID are in the same plastic casing as my pass! The gradual deterioration of human morality is saddening.

Oh yeah…my phone died yesterday. V_V I have to use an old phone of my father’s while I attempt to send it for repairs. I don’t mind the old phone as much despite the severe lack of functions but the keys are so stiff and hard to press! My fingers hurt after sending a couple of messages and believe me, when I say my fingers hurt, they really hurt, considering I have great SMSing stamina. Ouch I hope I won’t get too used to these buttons and press my phone buttons way too hard after I’ve got it repaired (or gotten a new phone if beyond the point of no returun).

My sister was home early today. Very nice. A special wish for special people…goodness knows I appreciate you guys more than anyone will truly comprehend. Love to all of my wonderful classmates who never ceased to there for me in their own way. A simple gesture holds a world-full of meanings for me. :)

Night

The night was still.

No, not quite.

Leaves rustled as

nocturnal creatures scampered

through the woods.

She was there.

Gently twirling in

an eternal dance

of the moon.

The moonlight created

silver highlights in

the long dark hair

framing a lovely pale face.

Her steps were silent.

Quick, light, and measured.

Her black dress looked

as if it was weaved of silver thread.

She made not the slightest ripple,

her graceful feet slid in and out

of the shallow stream in the woods

as she continued her moonlight dance.

The moon cast strange shadows

across her face as

she smiled knowingly

humming an eerie melody.

For she was

The Guardian of the Shadows,

The Moon Lady,

The Mistress of Darkness.

And the night belonged to her.

My lecturer paired us off and made us write sentences one after another. This is a general idea - as much as I can remember - she took the original copy off us. Now let's see what my classmate and I got up to.

Red text= Me

Blue text= Chris

BEAUTY LIES IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

A pale, insipid face peeped out shyly from within the wraps of a ragged scarf. It was cold. It was one of those nights where the children were reluctant to leave the warmth of the fireplace. And then Santa appeared. He laughed merrily, a huge bag of goodies slung over his shoulder, tinkling bells harmonising with his laughter.

The children started to cry. They realised that this was not the Santa Claus of their bedtime stories, but Santa Claws. They ran and hid behind the trees. “You can’t hide from me forever, children,” cackled Santa. He had a big belly. Santa’s face paint was starting to peel, revealing the horror beneath his façade. Then the Goblin appeared.

A little child trembled as he climbed up a tree, the branches scratching cruelly against his flesh as Santa approached menacingly. The Goblin started to laugh at Santa’s big belly. “Haven’t you heard that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder?” snapped Santa angrily. “No wonder the children are afraid of you,” the Goblin laughed. “Appearances can be deceiving,” said Santa, “besides, Mrs. Claws finds me attractive.”

What is Art?

It is the common fallacy of our society that art is merely restricted to paintings hung in galleries and such. We have been taught since childhood that art consists of literature, paintings, sculptures, music and the like. The true meaning of art is lost, buried deep beneath the hectic daily lives of humans. Masterpieces that convey a world of meanings, splashes of colours forming portals to fantastic worlds, weaving in an out in an eternal parabola is lost to the general public. They are not aware of the omnipresence of art, that art is everywhere and that we breathe and live art.

Basic art classifications include literature, paintings and music. The works of illustrious writers like Oscar Wilde have been passed down from one generation to another. Compositions of legendary musicians like Beethoven and Mozart resonated through the ages and paintings by artists like Leonardo da Vinci are admired till this very day. Yet is that all there is to art? Art is not mere watercolours slapped upon canvases – it is everything one is able to perceive, though humans tend to reject the blatantly obvious in favour of the safe and tried road of ignorance. There is more to art than meets the eye.

Permit me to provide unusual examples that people would not generally consider a form of art. Several attempts have been carried out to separate the world into science and art, with the former deliberated as the dominant half of humanity. It has been debated that the arts should not be considered inferior to science – pointless arguments in my opinion. The disputers do not realise that the fact art could never be separated from anything and art is also incorporated into so-called science. Proportions of animal and plant cells are artistically arranged by Mother Nature and the concocting of medicines for ailing patients is an art in itself.

Is not genetic engineering considered art? The tampering of genetics within entities, to remove the imperfect genes and replace them with desirable ones…is not the result of this science related branch as much a masterpiece as a novel by writers like Patricia C. Wrede? A human could be said to resemble a lump of clay awaiting its sculptors. Our personal experiences, our environment and other external factors are what shapes us and forces us to become the being as others perceive us now. Hence, it could rightly be said that even the formation of a human is an art in itself.

One does not have to be famous to have one’s work labelled as art for it is not the greatness of the deeds that one does but the extent of the influence of others at the moment. Our speech, thoughts and demeanour are ways we express ourselves, not to mention communicate with other beings. Successful art evokes emotions of all sorts, be it insignificant or dramatic feelings. The transmission of these sentiments is a common occurrence in our everyday lives and art lives within said sensations. Art provides us with the power to change the world and we achieve that by changing a person’s life, however inconsequential an impact it may appear to be.

By means of art, we are able paint our otherwise drab and monotonous world with colours and beauty. One does not require a trained eye to recognise and appreciate art but merely a heart that is willing to accept expressions of any form. It could be said that the very subsistence of mankind is art in itself for it allows us to reach out beyond the generally impenetrable wall of humanity and touch the hearts of others. Our memories and imprints are immortal – they exist in different forms of art and live on long after our fleshly bodies have fully disintegrated.

My angel, they knoweth naught; My hopes, vague shattered thoughts.

My angel, they knoweth naught;

My hopes, vague shattered thoughts.

The sun sets - it is dusk outside,

Yet the darkness within - I can hardly abide.

How long should one wait,

How long till the bait?

My very bones start to ache,

My heart sings of sorrow’s egg.

Should one’s foolish fears be fulfilled,

A prospect that leaves one chilled;

The fool should do well not to regret,

And of course, the present not to neglect.

A fool, an ignoramus, I’m silly, I know,

I trust in the clarity of the arrow.

Yet it’s a thought by no means cheerful,

Ignorant me, I can’t but help being woeful.

I care too much, you see,

I can’t help it, it’s me.

Everyone thinks a fire is strong,

They know not, they are wrong.

A fire has a strong façade and more,

But when one strikes the inner core;

The naivety,

The vulnerability.

It scares me.

An Encounter

A gentle breeze swept through the college, bringing a split-second sense of peacefulness to the bustling students hurrying about the campus.
“Maia!” A twig crunched behind the elder girl and she turned, the sunlight reflecting momentarily upon her face, creating an unusual radiance that harmonized with her outfit.
“Maia,” I repeated, struggling to keep the books in my arm from sliding onto the floor as I stared into the veil of trees, trying to make out the figure of my classmate. “Wait up.” My body shook as I stifled a sneeze.
“Are you all right, Michelle?” The girl next to me asked, a concerned frown playing across her pretty face. “You’ve been sneezing all morning."
“I’m fine, Tai Yun” I reassured my friend as we walked up to Maia. “It’s merely a touch of the flu.”
Maia, as we discovered, was deep in conversation with a lecture-mate (as I found out later) of ours. A lecture-mate I’d never noticed right up till that moment.

“Hi,” he waved casually at me and my companion as we approached, smiling. I just stood there and stared. Those ever-slithering books of mine as well as my compulsion to sneeze were forgotten the instant I set eyes upon this particular lecture-mate I didn’t even realise existed. His bashful smile could best be summed up in one word – captivating.

I stood there and gaped for a long time, vaguely aware that he was saying something to me, although my brain refused to register human speech of any sort at that precise moment.

Forget the fact I had long since harboured a secret shyness of strangers. Forget the fact I had difficulties looking acquaintances I’ve been seeing for five whole months in the eye. This guy was amazing, outstanding, The Unbelievable Exception.

“Well…bye,” He muttered after a while as he reluctantly backed away, obviously unwilling to end the conversation. “See you all around, yeah.”

“Yeah.” I parroted dumbly. “Yeah.”

The instant he was out of earshot, I turned to my classmates with huge eyes as I gestured wildly, searching for the appropriate vocabulary required for a situation as such.

“That guy…who is he?” I finally managed to produce a question in a barely audible awed whisper.

“Why, our lecture-mate, of course,” Tai Yun replied.

“What? I’ve never seen him before!”

“He’s from the scholarship class,” Maia added.

“Wow. I mean, wow. Did you…did you see…his smile? Wow. It was amazing,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

My friends were starting to give me the weird eyeball and I didn’t blame them.

“Did you…did you guys see his teeth?”

“What about his teeth?” The dark-haired maiden next to me asked as she stooped down to pick up one of my invariably sliding books that had evidently found a new resting place on the floor.

“His teeth. They were perfectly straight. And I mean straight! Goodness gracious, I’ve never seen anyone with teeth as straight as such. It was as if they were set using a ruler or something.”

“Gee, a lot of people have straight teeth too,” Maia volunteered.

“That’s not it. His teeth were so straight, they didn’t seem real,” I explained. My companions didn’t get the point. How could they, when they were concentrating on the conversation and I was feasting my eyes on one of the most eerily perfect sets of teeth I’d ever seen?

Eerily perfect was right. The unnaturalness of the teeth made one feel as if one were in a horror novel where the teeth would eventually turned out to be some sort of weird phantom. It was something right down Stephen King’s lane – indeed, I recall having read a story by King entitled “Chattery Teeth” a couple of years ago.

As I headed in the direction of the lecture halls with my associates, a shiver ran down my spine and I sneezed. Then again, it could just have been my bout of constantly recurring flu, returning to haunt me.

Hah, tricked you all, didn’t I? Sorry, there isn’t a romantic conclusion to the day. ;)

But I’m actually serious. This human has the most unnatural, eerily perfect set of teeth I’ve ever set my eyes upon. He scares me. O_o

Humans

They say that each person is unique. What, may I ask, contributes to the shaping of a humanoid? Genetic factors? Environmental influences? Personal experiences?

Upon arriving at my college half an hour earlier because of my decision to walk (yes, mon chere, walking to my college is actually quicker than taking a bus but I am not going to write about deranged buses, for that is a topic to dwell on another day), I was suddenly overwhelmed with questions pertaining the differences between humans. I should think humans are like…onions. (Great, now I sound like that donkey from Shrek.)Permit me to take you on a journey into the various layers of homo sapiens.

First and foremost, we have physical appearances. A mask that covers the other layers, it may or may not be an accurate depiction of one’s inner layers. People often say that beauty is only skin-deep and we should not judge a book by its cover. Unfortunately, a large portion of humanity can be very shallow and fall for facades. Allow me to pose a question: Would you still love your family if they were involved in a freak accident, consequently becoming scarred for life? How about your partner? Your friends? Your classmates/colleagues? How many of you will still stay by the so-called “loved one”’s side when said person is permanently disfigured?

I wonder how many people are still braving this expedition with me. Regrettably, I daresay quite a lot of individuals would have forsaken this quest by now due to their untoward inability to see past the first layer. Now is when things start to get complicated. You see, the inner layers are mostly blended together in such a way that one would find it impossible to tell where one layer begins and where it ends. Layers upon layers overlapping each other, dancing an eternal dance of the layers, held together by something far more complicated than sigma bonds.

Think of it as graphite, if you wish, although graphite isn’t quite the same with its distinct layers. Elementary, my dear Watson. Or perhaps, not quite so elementary after all, considering the fact scientists have been attempting to puzzle out the exact science behind the complexity of human nature for centuries and are still trying to do so. The inner layers shine out from beyond the first layer, emaciating a special glow that envelopes the first layer. Sadly, some people have a strange handicap named “superficiality” whereby the unfortunate being is unable to see exceptional radiances.

Moving on from the inner layers that define our personality, we have the nuclei.

(All right, I confess – I’m still stuck in Chemistry Test Mode.) It is the central, the very core of what our true nature really is. Seldom shown to others because of its vulnerability, this nucleus is what some would call “the deeper aspect”. This may or may not be a direct contrast of one or more of the previous layers. Owing to the fact it is made of very delicate matter, this core is very much sought after, but only a select few will have the privilege of discovering it.

Will anyone really unearth the secret of what delineates a person? I doubt it.

PROLOGUE

19th April 2998, day three in Serene Settlements.

Memories…so many memories…all of them buried deep in a drawer at the back of my mind. No, I am not trying to forget them, quite the contrary in fact. I need to unlock the drawer…and remember. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated recollections…recollections that a fifteen year old like me had no business having! Till this day, I do not know what truly happened, and I probably will never find out either. I wonder if things like this happen to everyone, only they keep quiet and never tell their tale.

I know I am in an asylum. Do you think I do not have eyes? I can see for myself. The guards like to patrol those cells every half hour or so, in case the “mentally disturbed patients” harm themselves. Only we aren’t supposed to call them guards. They are Ms. Iris and Ilea, our so-called friends. And that means ‘guards’, you and I both know that. Mentally disturbed patients. Hah. Why don’t they just come right out and call us lunatics? I know I probably shouldn’t take it out on Iris and Ilea. They have good intentions, after all, and it wasn’t their fault I was stranded in this prison.

Nevertheless, those women get on my nerves all the time, with their slow, deliberate voices, almost as if I was a three year old. I am already fifteen, perhaps elder. Also, you know the way identical twins sometimes finish their twin’s sentences? Well, Iris and Ilea are like that, only they do it all the time. Iris never finishes her sentences and Ilea always completes them. I wonder how they cope when they get separated. Iris would probably go like, “So, how…?” to some random person while Ilea, in a different place would go like, “…are you?” That would indeed be a hilarious situation and I wish I could be there to see it if it ever happens. However, those two seem to be inseparable and it is enough to drive anyone up the wall to listen to their talk…that is, if they haven’t already went off their rocker in the first place.

In addition to that, Iris is the twin with a loud, hearty voice while Ilea has this high-pitched, scratchy voice. Do you still wonder why they work in Serene Settlements? I guess it is the only place anyone can bear their contrasting voices completing sentences. Iris and Ilea are tall, pale and dark-haired. The colour of their skin is unreal. There’s always this ghostly tinge and the twins seem to radiate this chilly aura despite their warm personalities. I wonder if it is because they meet with so nutcases everyday. They also have worried frowns on their faces, and narrowed, suspicious eyes. All of the guards in Serene Settlements have the same look. Serene Settlements…such a dumb name, but perfectly suitable for a funny farm.

I have a room mate, or rather, cell mate, incidentally. Her name is Sara and she’s pretty nice except for her tendency to suddenly start kissing the wall as she hangs herself by the legs from her bed frame. Sounds impossible, but you have to see her before you get what I mean. Otherwise, she’s quite peaceable and twists loose strands of hair around her finger, humming a melodious tone. I have tried to ask her the name of that song, but I don’t think I can get her to understand me. She just stares up at me dreamily with this wide grin on her face whenever I attempt to strike up a conversation.

Poor girl, her mind has completely gone, probably just like all the other inhabitants of Serene Settlements. Except for me, of course. I have not lost my marbles…not yet, at least. I have no idea how long it would take for my mind to give out in this dreadful place. One day, I will be one of those broken-spirited people, wandering around the hallways of Serene Settlements, mumbling to myself, asking everyone the truth…what is true and what is not. This place has that effect on people, you see. I stared at the pure white wallskin with the tiny grey swirls, spinning forever and ever. Looking down at the blank piece of compaper on the desk in front of me, I pressed the button on my simple chain that activated my e-pen. I needed to write the whole story down…to let everyone know the true story. Permit me to take you for a stroll down the forbidden memory lane, the memory lane that was not supposed to belong to me…

This is a work of fiction, written for amusement during a period of excessive boredom.

風火の雲氷炎

土曜日 秋 霧

おさない て に すすんだ

ふるえてる その ひかり を

ここまで たどてきた

ぎかん の ふし を さまよい

さがし すずけて きたよ

なまえ さえ しらないけれど

ただ ひとす の おもい を

あなた に てわたしたくて

とき わ あ い も いたみ き

ふかく だきとめ

けして ゆくけと わたし わ

おぼえている

ずとー

わたし の むね の おく に

いすからか ひびいて いたー

よすゆ の しずく より も

かすかな ささやきだけど

いてすく ほし の やみ え

すむぐ いのり が

とどく よう にー

ルオ ハオ ヱンさん,

風ー火

ゆエ しン