Friday, May 30, 2014

Time setting

One must be absolutely modern. So goes Rimbaud. 

But the modern day is dull. Void of intrigue. The past is mysterious, rich like embroidered Persian rugs. And the future is pure fantasy. One can write histories that could-have-been in the past & tales-yet-to-come in the future.

But the present age? Shackles of realism bore upon the author's wrists. The only reprieve is to write of people. Characters with ancient souls or futurist minds. Furnished with larger-than-life plots or shocking or confusing ones.

But I am biased. I find no romance whatsoever in the present day setting. The Internet is the problem. People don't connect & converse as much. As one who suffers in social settings, I should scoff at myself for that incriminating statement. Hah.

I am one for grandiose schemes. Poetic justice, stoic warriors, unrequited love, or tragic ones at least. I have always been one who extolls meaning. Subdued, symbolic, or intricate and intoxicating. But always metaphors and subtlety. Nuance is precious. I like to be moved and led by hints and unspokens. Intrigue, yes that is the word. 

Sunday, May 25, 2014

My flower, my beloved

We spoke of the betrayal she suffered and her heart withered before me. Her normally smiling eyes now empty and cold. I have not seen her look so drained. Even in heartbreak she is calm.

And I felt the stirrings of anger within me on her behalf. No one should be allowed to wound my flower so.

On another note, my dearest love is quite happy. I bask in her happiness and wish this warmth will linger.

I am of two hearts then. Happy for my beloved and enraged for my flower. I am the bystander of their withering and blooming hearts. I am the one in waiting, hoping to be the balm that ease their pain or the confidant to share their joys.

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Goodbye, Alexias

If last year I found Mishima's Spring Snow, this year I found Mary Renault's The Last of the Wine. These two books are very dear to me. They are beautiful.


Sometimes while I read and anguish overcomes me I would address her and read to her precisely what line that stirred me so. I would explain to her the whys and how sos and she would listen good naturedly, as she always does. She would smile and make a self-depreciating remark to her non-existent interest in reading and so could never understand my anguish.

I managed quite well alone. I steeled myself for grief but it never came and so now I am cooled by my conquest of solitude. I do not say that there were not times that loneliness made itself more present than usual, but we reconciled and parted friends. 

I harbour deep fondness for her but not feelings of wanting to connect. Rather, we are like two parts of a city separated by a great river. We have a bridge between us but it is small. So we exist harmoniously together but separate.

Thursday, May 22, 2014

For Alexias

As the thwarted lover be placed in the presence of the beloved's new beloved, a vague emptiness visits. Not quite jealousy, simply an absence. A missing of that unattainable affection that now must never be. 

Tuesday, May 20, 2014


That rivers would edify,
And sullen weather would brighten 
My magnanimity, my warmth, my 
She is the face the sun rose for,
And pillaged;
The honour of men,
The beloved of all good men, 
Liberty unfurls her wings, 
Aways to open skies.

Sweet soil, as dearth as good men;
Blood will not quench
The sleeping soldiers beneath,
And malingerers;
They avail the last of hopes
Into the sea, 
As if decay
Cannot touch the rising sun.

Time will pass,
The past will come to passing,
Liberty stands watching,
While old men talk,
young men shout,
All the while traipsing,
This good earth, forgotten like the 

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Whether the weather

My moods depend heavily on the weather. The nature of the clouds, the colour of the sky, whether it's visible at all, the intensity of sunlight, the heaviness of rain or the speed and temperature of my dear friend, the wind. And when the moon makes an appearance during the day, I think myself blessed with a happiness reserved only for me. 

Overcast days tend to make me unstable. The ominousness of dense, low hanging clouds engulfing the entire horizon is very disturbing to me. I want to climb up and part the sky so I can see that friendly blue. But weather isn't something one should ever complain about. It is an ungrateful thing to do, I know. I have a friend who likes overcast days, he says it is good for taking walks in the city. He must have had an excellent weekend while I myself climb the walls I reckon.

And the birds. Of course. Always the birds. The hooting, the chirping, the shrieking and singing. The birds to me; are the voices of the mute earth and grass, the companions of the trees and the wind, they are signs of life. There are a lot of parrots here in Melbourne. Along with pigeons and ravens and sparrows and the abominable seagulls. A great many species of parrots. Pink and grey ones, white with yellow heads, green and blue and orange, red green blue and yellow. All kinds. 

And lastly, I attribute my moods to the strangers I pass by on the streets (when I have to venture far i.e. When going on placements). How many beggars I see, how many people in general, if the tram was crowded, if I managed to offer someone wizened my seat when it is necessary, if I was harassed at all by flyer givers, charity seekers, drunkards, if there were any children around. Good children make me smile.

That is enough. 

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Gift of inspiration

When books transport you through and through and for hours on end you live within the world printed on the pages; God has indeed give man inspiration so he could withdraw once in a while from his harrowing mind.

And one ponders that paradise is joy unknown yet to man. And that for many, to never know it. For eternity. And one asks one's self; Have you really any faculties at all if you cannot attest to what has been made plain to you as one who has the blessings of true religion?

Friday, May 16, 2014

The Selfish Giant

I saw the film and I thought, that's what I want to write. It's perfect.

I've always had a fascination with films like this one. Like Son of Rambo, Mud, Bridge To Terabithia and The Fall. 

Day...whatever day it is.

Skived off work today. Phoned in and said I wasn't coming and that was that. No questions asked. Which was good really. One more week to go and then I am completely done with my professional placement program.

Weather's good today. Autumn seems to have let off a little with the cold and the sun's out. The streets are littered with dried maple leaves (there's a lot of maple here in Melb) blowing this way and that. Those workers with the leaf blowers will probably take care of it sometime soon. I like watching them.

I took another shot at working on the thing last night (after an extended period of non-writing) and added a few lines. It felt nice. Not exactly an accomplishment. I just don't have time to really get into it on a regular basis. I don't suppose I will have time after I graduate and start working either. Destined to be a reader, like everyone else. Alas.

Melbourne is a beautiful and at times, lonely city. I will remember this and miss it. For now though, I'll sip my peppermint tea and enjoy my last autumn.

Friday, May 9, 2014

Day 7

You read a patient's medical history, social history, current difficulties (adversarial family, palliative choices, fatal illnesses, disabilities etc.) and everything is real. It is not a novel or a film. These are real people. Flesh, blood and bones. Then you talk to them. And it is even more real. The pain, suffering, and helplessness. The hope, love and kindness.

You see life as it fades and you see death as it comes. You see 'death' in the living and you see 'life' in the dying.

You witness just how much a person can say by saying nothing. You never realised how much their eyes could speak to you.

In a hospital, everything is real. There is no such thing as ennui. You are confronted by pulsing heartbeats, the raw pain of existing as a human being. Life holds you by the throat and stares you down.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Day 6

Man put on palliative care; passed away overnight. 17 year old boy got into a motorbike accident; paralysed from waist down, lost all control of bowels. Woman had a stroke and fell; fractured jaw, fractured hip. Man with only one eye (wears an eye patch) called ambulance; doctor heard splat as he went down. Woman got into vehicle accident; broke ribs, both legs, both arms (in full-body cast, crying to family around bed). Man with mouth cancer; extreme pain, can't eat, can't even swallow own saliva. Man had a stroke; lost some of his memory, "I expected this."

I can go on and on. Health is a treasure next best to simply being alive. 

I love my new placement because my preceptor is the kind that facilitates learning instead of the making-you-feel-bad-for-not-knowing-your-sh*t sort. She explains to me what she does blow by blow and also challengers me by asking me to participate, make decisions, give suggestions etc.

Today is another good day. Autumn is in full bloom. It was 3 Celsius last night. I could see my breath rising like smoke this morning on the way to work. And the sun today was the kind that gilds everything in gold. The trees in the park looked enchanting with their hues of red, orange and yellow leaves backlit by the golden shafts, throwing long shadows across the streets. I even like my tram rides these days. 

I am alone but I am not lonely. I am solitary and happy. Alhamdulillah.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Day 4

Today was good. I am comfortable with my preceptor. Alhamdulillah. Spoke to a couple of my peers too. I am not a recluse.

Bought a couple of books from the Hospital bookshop. Will try and get into the library (I just need to find it again) one of these days.

Also, finished Into The Wild in the tram today. Skimmed the last 3 chapters. McCandles may be inspiring at first glance, but when one scrutinize him, his two flaws: arrogance, ingratitude. But we are only human, and he is a misguided soul. We move on now with Hemingway's The Old Man & The Sea. Before bed, I read Mary Renault's The Last of The Wine. I sleep early and wake up early (work starts at 8, I finish at 4).

The days do not feel long. The nights do not feel long. The cold does not bite. I am tired yet I do not feel cheated by my fatigue. I am not lonely. I am not sad. This is good. I am doing fine.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Day 3

Adopted a most anti-social demeanour on first day of my PEP (My last. 3 weeks and it'll be over).

I could tell that the lady was disconcerted by me. Tried to get me to answer questions. Frankly, I don't know the answer so I said whatever came to mind. It's so much easier to say things when you couldn't care less about how you come across.

I am at ease. It is one of those rare occasions whence absolute disinterest is actually freeing. Disinhibition as a result of  uncaring.

All is grey. I am safe in my grey. Blessings abound, I shall carry on.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Day 2

Grief struck me. I sent them both off, my flower, and the jewel-named of a girl. Yesterday and this morning once more. They both booked taxis to the airport at 6:15am, their departure being one day apart. Still in night's embrace, rain-kissed autumn heralded our goodbyes. The short alley leading to the stairs of my apartment never seemed so silent. 

It is cold now. Autumn is in full bloom and so is my muted sadness. I felt wounded. Right now though, I feel some measure of furtive strength clasping my heart. One needs to steel one's self against loneliness. Despite knowing the inevitable defeat (at some point or another I know I will give way to grief), it is always good to prepare for the gripping dark.

I am not a poet. Only a lover who deigns to love beauty from afar. I shall warm myself now with fond echoes of time spent in smiles, laughter, and in sight of breath-taking nature. I am an introvert, not a recluse. Loneliness causes me great suffering. Just as expected of all humankind. The soul yearns for nothing more than to be in company of happiness.

To rely then, on man's one and only true Reliance.

Saturday, May 3, 2014