I thought of updating my blog and then today, just now, I came across this beautiful story most probably with Arabic or Indian linkage.  Thus here I am updating me blog. This may be short but it leaves such an impression, a lasting one at that, that it makes one shudder at the metaphor. 

Upon an occasion a son was going to murder his mother . His lover told him that if he brings the heart of his mother to her then she will marry him. The delinquent then went and cut open his mother and removed her heart. As he was going back he tripped over and fell. His mother’s heart spoke out with love and said, “Oh my son are you okay?” The voice came from the heart saying, “Oh my son I hope you’re okay”.

Such is the son, such are girls and such are mothers. 

Some Soren


I don’t know if I am bored or have ran out of ideas. Though, I found the below quotes to be to my liking and I guess this is me implying that I like them so much that I might want to post it on my blog and perhaps even read about it later. 

I like Kierkegaard as I like a few other philosophers mainly due to their prowess in intelligence and their views that I can mimic agreeableness with which always causes me to be a little jealous and then causes me to reflect and then duress and a little bitter afterwards.

I like to think I refrained from reading philosophical books mainly because due to my limited capacity towards thinking. However with the little I understand has the ability to make me wonder to the verge of insanity, now I am just playing with words. 

I don’t think I prevent myself from reading anything interesting that can be easily reached. Having said that, for some reason these books are way too expensive probably meant only for certain classes and probably to prevent certain classes from reading these stuff as it could cause on to think and ponder and realize the type of world we are set in. Yes, I do believe all it requires is a little thinking to notice the state of the world and people that walks on earth.


I don’t think that you should think of what I think as a thing of permanence. However there are things that I am steadfast on, though I don’t sound like I am boasting, I actually…on second thoughts, no I wasn’t boasting. After all, circumstances have shaped my thinking, if the circumstances were different or were to be different then I might even change my way of thinking into not thinking at all? Such is man; forgetful, weak and cheap.

I, As much as I don’t care, my innately good self would like it if u were to like the quotes below and were to think a little about it and somewhat/how discover the deep scars that covers the world and the almost transparent temperament of people would make my innately good self even more friendly towards you. As much as the quotes might not be related to what I’ve just spewed. Anyways enough about me already.





‘What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music . . . 

And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ – that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.’


“The function of prayer is not to influence God, but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.” 


“In addition to my other numerous acquaintances, I have one more intimate confidant. . . . My depression is the most faithful mistress I have known- no wonder, then, that I return the love.”

“Face the facts of being what you are, for that is what changes what you are.”


“A fire broke out backstage in a theatre. The clown came out to warn the public; they thought it was a joke and applauded. He repeated it; the acclaim was even greater. I think that's just how the world will come to an end: to general applause from wits who believe it's a joke.”


“The proud person always wants to do the right thing, the great thing. But because he wants to do it in his own strength, he is fighting not with man, but with God.”

“One must not think slightingly of the paradoxical…for the paradox is the source of the thinker’s passion, and the thinker without a paradox is like a lover without feeling: a paltry mediocrity.”

“How did I get into the world? Why was I not asked about it and why was I not informed of the rules and regulations but just thrust into the ranks as if I had been bought by a peddling shanghaier of human beings? How did I get involved in this big enterprise called actuality? Why should I be involved? Isn't it a matter of choice? And if I am compelled to be involved, where is the manager—I have something to say about this. Is there no manager? To whom shall I make my complaint?”

“What if everything in the world were a misunderstanding, what if laughter were really tears?”

“Leap of faith – yes, but only after reflection”

“Listen to the cry of a woman in labor at the hour of giving birth — look at the dying man’s struggle at his last extremity, and then tell me whether something that begins and ends thus could be intended for enjoyment.” 

“It is the duty of the human understanding to understand that there are things which it cannot understand...”





Malle


It is raining outside. No, this isn’t one of my fictional stories…well it could be, but it really is raining outside. The sound of the raindrops, (I wish)—they seem like they’re washing away my unnecessary paranoia and dilemmas though every time I do so, I hear the raindrops slowly fainting away when in actuality they aren’t.

One of my teachers said to me, “the more you learn about this world the more closer you are to reaching insanity.” I am not in the mood to dwell further into that..hence we shall move on.

For a steady hour now the rain has been constant in its falling down.



Sleep!

Falling asleep gives one the pretence of peace,

Hurry, pretty soon it is going to be deceased,

The kid now has grown into an old geez,

Our good deeds, with what intentions and ulterior motives?

The plot, the puppeteers applaud their siege,

They seize and then pretend to appease the foolish,

The masses readily swallow rubbish.



I am now merely a rotten piece of meat,

Then I screamed with all sorts of squeals,

Agony, despair and dissatisfactory,

Now all buried in the depth of the sea,

Faith, fate and uncertainty,

The man gazes and finds himself dazed,

All the days passed by,

None with the knowledge,

Of what next might be,

Folly, forgetful, hopefully not strayed,

The journey comes to an end,

He has no idea when,

Right now it seems,

Immortality and well-being,

Forever this human being will remain in esteem,

Chasing dreams and living like foolish kings,

Until he falls asleep and stays in his dreams,

‘A mistake it has been!’

And so he deems,

Buried In the ground,

It is never what it seems.



The rain has stopped. I guess I was in the mood for poetry. It is too quiet here. I shouldn’t complain, quiet is good and also sleep inducing. Therefore I shall try to sleep early and hope to dream of flowers, gardens and pleasantries. Oh and hope to wake up to a good ending or to a good start. Thank you for reading.






Dear Dreary


Hi,

Yes, busy. No time to ramble...when I have time, I am either too tired or not in the mood. I dislike opening my emails on weekends and getting mail notifications from work. The New Year is moving faster than it did last year and I thought last year passed by like a flash.

I had something I wanted to write about, I wanted to say I forgot but as soon as I thought I forgot about it, it appears that I didn't. There is this really old Chinese lady whom I saw today, I noticed her walking and feeding the cats in the market. Perhaps the curiosity in my face was apparent, I was then told a little about her.  This old lady collects chicken heads that have been thrown away in markets, everyday. She takes the chicken heads, goes back and boils them chicken heads. She then comes back everyday in the afternoon and feed the cats in the market. No, It's not like she lives nearby; she takes a bus from somewhere pretty distant and comes at the same time and feeds them cats...everyday. 

Judging from the cats’ antics, one would notice that these cats were very familiar with her. Having said that, some people who have stalls or do business in the market, dislikes her doings and have warned her, perhaps even scolded her for feeding them cats. She is partly responsible for the increase of population among cats in that area, or so it has been thought/speculated.

There has been complaints’ regarding the increase of numbers amongst cats in the market. Word is, the local authority have collected around some 20 kittens and hopefully transferred them somewhere where they are still living... 

Regardless of who's right or despite what the truth might be. Some would say, some people like fishing, some people like gardening.... she needs a new hobby. On the other hand some would say, contributing to the increment of cats could pester some. I am sure you have something to say too. Though seeing that you can't now...I guess that just leaves me to voice out—my opinion.

My first impression upon hearing about her was, ‘there is still hope for humanity’. She might be wrong in feeding the cats and is probably responsible for making them cats lazy and not being able to hunt on their own. They might have even lost their touch in the art of ‘huntestry’.  I’ve been watching too many animal related documentaries.

I also did say that I have no time to ramble…

In reference to the first paragraph, I’ve been bringing back work to home lately. It’s not like I am not grateful or anything…but…having said that, the email hath reminded me that I need to get some work done.
I still can’t believe it’s March already. Yesterday I was still 12 and depressed. Today…let’s not even go there.

Back to the old lady, I found her doings inspiring and hopeful regardless of the consequences or whatever logic some might construe…when I saw here feeding them cats, I had respect for her.

My PC is getting more and more sensitive each day; it is true what they say about old people. I saw what I was trying to do…and let’s just say the ending of what the end might be, might not be sensitive nor appropriate…Hence, I wish it would just keep on working the way it usually does before 2012.  Right now, I have ill feelings for my computer. I don't care what you might think...computer.

I am sure I can come up with more interesting things to write about but alas! It is beyond midnight and in Malaysia even trains don’t operate this late. 

Tomorrow…today is Sunday and I hope to wake up early as to make it lengthier and worthwhile in consequent to being all productive and useful. I bid myself good night and you should do something more worthwhile. Byes.