Noodles coagulate Unable to disentangle From the choking mass Gathering in my throat. Syllables unutterable All that I cannot hear Resenting quavers Startling the bar. Nothing worse Than the insincerity of silence Dinner of the unspeaking Orders cut off in mid air - Your fingers aren’t grasping My throat, and still I am strangled By these swollen threads Of your heart,...
Ode to a nightingale (and to work)
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan.
Isabella guessed the word that Giles had not spoken. Well, was it wrong if he was that word? Why judge each other? Do we know each other? Not here, not now. But somewhere, this cloud, this crust, this doubt, this dust-
In the time it took to hold my breath and slip under the bathwater – to hear the blood-thud in the veins, for me to rise to the surface – my parents had died, the house had been sold and now was being demolished around me, wall by wall, with a ball and chain. I swim one length underwater, pulling myself up on the other side, gasping, to find my marriage over, my daughters...
Out of us all That make rhymes, Will you choose Sometimes – As the winds use A crack in the wall Or a drain, Their joy or their pain To whistle through – Choose me, You English words? I know you: You are light as dreams, Tough as oak, Precious as gold, As poppies and corn, Or an old cloak: Sweet as our birds To the ear, As the burnet rose In the heat Of Midsummer: Strange as...
No longer the barbaric yawp from the rooftop - Just the silent celebration, in small and measured spoonfuls Packed carefully against your tightening chest, as you Perch precariously on the arc of two wheels That perpetually spin beyond your will.
He holds the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Crickets and pools Sing memory songs of you.
Not even poets have measured, how much the heart...
In case I ever were to forget - my love for you is beyond circumstance and regret.
These fragments I have shored against my ruins.– T.S Eliot, “The Waste Land”
A relationship is like a shark- it has to keep moving forward, or it will die.– Woody Allen
Twelve moons past, We had squeezed past brown men like toothpaste Unelegantly discovered ourselves by the edge of the sidewalk The garish red and purple lights casting an electric pall on your brown face You brought me to the god that you worshipped Only after something good had transpired - retroactive thanks Her many hands clenching the air and the whispers of her devotees Twisting...
Too Good To Be True
My mind grown soft from too much Internet usage… Whether on my laptop with its glowing piece of violated fruit on the lid, or the awful little slab I’ve made the mistake of entrusting with my phone calls and, more and more, my higher faculties. Plato’s slab. It is the last metaphor.
The greatest economic disaster of all time was caused by the most data-oriented sector of our society. Wall Street didn’t fail because it had too few quants; it had too many.
Statistics is like a bikini - it's what it's...
am learning the language of numbers, and i remain convinced that they tell more lies than words do.
One of the most poignant videos I’ve ever seen, capturing the steel and fragility of the human spirit and the beloved works of our hands.
As F1 Weekend Approaches
What do you do at the F1? You drink expensive water, And drink expensive beer. And then you walk around With small plugs in your ear.
What I feel this morning
Alexithymia - the absence of words to describe emotional states.
Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time.– Jorge Luis Borges, The Book of Sand
Hatred seems to operate the same glands as love– Graham Greene
Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.– Frank Zappa
But, O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another...– Shakespeare, As You Like It
What a difference a month makes
waiting at the airport. the arrival. the hug. the overspilling teacup of joy. the eyes. too many smiles. the finger holding, touching and not touching. our first kiss, the world moving under our feet. - the news telling. the numerous nods. the knowing across the table. - the secret, charging at us with knives. the hour of doubt, sitting in the empty and hollow cathedral. the...
Mortality at the Coffee Shop
[We're sitting in a coffeeshop, the distracting clink of silver spoons against porcelain cups, chatter from the next table drifting upwards and catching in the fan, that cuts up the syllables and scatters them across the airy sunlit room, "chs" and "ahs" punctuating the atmosphere.]
C: I admire your optimism. It's the sort you have when you're in your twenties.
A: [a little anxious] You mean it goes away when you turn thirty?
C: Certainly, as sure as the sun sets, your horizons start to dip and narrow as you get older. You start becoming conscious of your... mortality.
A: [refusing to believe] Your mortality? How would ten years make any sort of difference?
C: [considers A for a moment, and thinks about how he might convince this stubborn young thing] Take sports, for instance. I stopped playing football two years ago, after I tore my ankle ligaments. The doctor said that I was wearing the wrong sort of cleats for the turf, which really meant that I was kicking around in high heels. [incredulous, which A shares, particularly because it is virtually impossible to imagine the lean and wiry C being in any way effeminate] You begin to be aware of your limits, there's only so far you can go, so much you're prepared to do. You begin thinking of your responsibilities, the people whom you'd like to think depend on you so entirely that they too might die if you selfishly waste your life away.
[A clutches on to her teh tarik mug the whole time while C speaks, her hands betray some nervousness as she thinks about what he says]
A: Why would anyone wish to have any sense of their limits?
C: Because it keeps us safe, generally. Which is not a bad thing. You give up some of the thrill, in exchange for many more years.
A: It is hard to imagine such a life...
C: But to be honest, my epiphany came from somewhere else. [he looks at A, who's staring down at her tea, fighting herself] I collect books, I buy them everytime I enter a bookstore... It's like an addiction, but one which I gladly feed. Back in my house I have these huge bookcases, they've now grown so large I need a ladder to get to the top. Books spilling out of their ears, pages pressed impossibly tight against each other, from every period, every genre. And one day I stood there staring at them, staring back at me. And that's when I realised - forget about the books in the bookstore. I will never be able to finish reading every book on my shelf before I die.
[A looks up from her mug of tea and glances at him in recognition]
C: I will never be able to read all of them before I die. That is what I learnt, at thirty.
Stuff of a Legend
SPEECH BY PS (FOREIGN AFFAIRS) BILAHARI KAUSIKAN AT RAFFLES INSTITUTION’S 189TH FOUNDER’S DAY ON 21 JULY 2012 (SATURDAY) AT 9 AM AT ALBERT HONG HALL, RAFFLES INSTITUTION 1 When your Principal, in a reckless act of folly, asked me to be Guest-of-Honour at this 189th Founder’s Day, my first instinct was to do us both a favour and refuse. But I hesitated and in an instant was lost. The...
So she came to tell me that,
What is the difference, between a broken heart, and one that has frozen over?
Not the wind that howls But the creak of the unused door - Unhinged hysteria through the panels shrieking While the mouse hides under, musing. The small twitch of the eyebrow of the lover cheating - Gives away more than the spitting curses of the sober youth raging. Hand, unable to reach across the dinner table - Travels distances more vast than the nomad...
$trategic KPI + %Synergy% = Love
Hilarious! Approved, pls. pls-revert: by Mary-Jane Leo (*edit: published in Ceriph 4, available at BooksActually, Kinokuniya, and GRAPHEME zine lab. Thanks good people who reblogged with this info!) Mary was lonely and needed a Partner with the same >!> Strategic Thrusts <!< in life- that is, she wanted a love who liked rainy days and cloudwatching adventures in spain...
At the end of what had been a beautiful but beastly relationship, it takes a while to make sense of the fall out. One dreams of big party BBQs, deep fried crab cakes, his face in the crowd, looking but not looking. Whichever way you think about it, there is no turning back. Your heart would do all kinds of gymnastics to untwist itself, sprain even, just for a whiff of what used to be. Sweaty...
Musings on what would have been the first...
(-of a rather psychotic relationship.) Perhaps- If I hadn’t mucked up, We might be married. Today we would be in Ikea, Picking out pre-fabricated kitchen shelves, These pieces that make us whole. Perhaps- We might have been happy. I have no measurement of certainty- But sitting here in bed, alone, I’m still sure, that even without The trappings of the modern married...
Novels and their worth
The value of a novel is not limited to its depiction of emotions and people akin to those in our own life; it stretches to an ability to describe these far better than we would have been able, to put a finger on perceptions that we recognize as our own, but could not have formulated on our own.
Words of the Wise by Dr Seuss
You have brains in your head, You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose
Teacher - Knowledge Navigator Window Cleaner - Vision Clearance Engineer Garbage Collector - Garbologist Travel Agent - Destination Counsellor Ticket Inspector - Revenue Protection Officer
These blue steel bars that keep me in, and the walls that are stained by my secret shame, cannot keep out the real torment- earworms that wriggle unfettered, sucking on the flesh of my mind- repeating I am incapable of living, and must, like a mollusc, lie here inert, insensible, infantile. Such sweetness there is on the skin of the unfree. But it shall be as limp shrimp is...
Power of the Nudge →
Stop yelling! Google turns to nudging to influence desired eating behaviours