Seeking the Dark Tower

On the path that eventually leads to the clearing in the woods, the Charyou Tree. Fraught with danger, fear and loss, and yet, fulfillment. Welcome.

Thursday, December 30, 2004

point zero

It occurs to me that i might be finally nearing point zero, hitting rock bottom. The point that i wanted to write about but never came to it, a point that can go no where lower but up.
I suppose i could talk about it now. I think of all the freinds ive had recently, and am addicted to each one of them; each one a special flavour, because to me they seem so alive and living so fully. And how does this come about? I noticed that most of them had experiences change their life, and by doing so began to live more truely to themselves. All of them live true to themselves. I was an animal, instinctual person then, and with this fresh breath i got a whiff of i was intoxicated. Catalyst i might say. So it is this "experience" that they have gone through that changed them. IT can be anything; physical event, or even an internal battle that was fought out and resolved(notice i dont say won or succeeded; some things cannot be won. For that we will have to adapt to it then). It can be just that personal thing in taking effort and pleasure in what you do, enjoying the journey instead of just wanting to get from point A to B. For some cases it is traumatic. For me, i believe that only a traumatic experience might have enough juice to jolt my mind out of the current half state i am in. I fear this may be happening now. Soon things will start to go downhill. Already my mom has come to ask me if im family at all; i spend time alone all day if not outside then in my room, at night when i return home i stare at the screen typing this bullshit more than i see my family's faces. I feel bad about this. I get spooked easy now, i feel haunted and im really weak now. in all senses. I sense change. I am so preoccupied by myself that i neglectthe world outside at times, yet it still reaches out. another disharmony. Plenty disharmony, non symmetry. Discordia. Yet my mind is putting up a resistant fight, an inertial block that is hard to move. It generally hurts all the time, my head.
I am at my crossroad and i am drilling myself into the ground walking circles.
I cannot think but cannot stop. A mule who is unable to bear nor throw off its backbreaking load. An engine that is smoking but unable to shut off. Sinking deeper and deeper pulled by the undertow. I think i cant cry anymore, not even to just relieve tension. Like i siad fuck that macho shit. Theres only that dull ache that seems to come from everywhere then bursting through my chest in sharp jabs as i writhe and moan. Oh God WHAT is HAPPENING.

I dont even have the energy to do the cors, i cant rest either. what a bloody pathethic state. My mind is just a perpetual buzz of white noise.

Oh i think i might need help.
Im sorry. i need help. i think i do. oh stop. stop.

The music of the night

A sad sad tale it was. The most poignant film i have watched since a long, long, long time. The impact on me was great, maybe because it is the 1st time ive actually watched this story, and 1st impressions hit the hardest.

Halfway through it could be seen that the phantom could never win, never be accepted, and was bound to die or escape forever from humanity. From a humanity he could not understand, loathed, hated, envied, loved, wanted, sought.

i care nothing for raul, he is but a picture-boy, an orlando bloom in the pirates of the carribean, eye candy, and destined to be loved. TO the phantom is where my heart ached and felt for.

The poor, wonderful, beautiful, ugly, sad sad soul, creature of the night, carried with him an immense, slow, steady sadness that would be as calm and noisome as an oily sea. It would reflect no light, and would never be turbulent. I didnt think he could have cried. The tears that welled up would dry before they spill from the eye. For him there is no release. None at all. Destined to be in the dark forever, chained to himself, chained forever. The worst kind of sadness. One that can find no release, no relief, not even momentarily.

Oh to cry, oh to cry, i feel the clench and the ache when i saw all the injustice of the world but i would not cry.






As i walked home tonight i *sensed* a pack of wolves running down the slope from the cemetery, surrounding me, no escape. It was so startling i gasped. That sudden fear i felt so often in my sleep. It was but a fleeting moment. I avoided cars and lorries for fear of something darting out beneath to take a bite out of me.

What is happening to me? are my dreams starting to take control of conciousness? i am very afraid. Of clinical disinterest i think all this is self-induced, if i can turn all this off ill be fine. But how do you turn something that dosent have a switch?
I am seriously distressed. I must stop this soon or i fear i might lose my mind. I am already feeling so unstable. I gnaws and eats at me.
Ich habe theory: My idle mind is lacking stimuli and faces shutdown, or at least switching to very low awareness. To prevent that, neurons fire imagination and inner thinking to keep the mind "hot". But this thinking is killing me. I look forward very much to the coming of the new semester. Maybe with my mind occupied with studies it can actually take a break while i try to sort this whole mess out.

I'm so tired i cant sleep
Oh. fuck macho-guy talk or whatnot, i do feel like crying. It is unbearable.


Monday, December 27, 2004

aftermath

The anger and frustration hasnt abated. Ive gone back to blocking myself from the world by blasting GnR Rammstein and RATM at max volume and generally feeling itchy twitchy. JC rant-loner-pissedoff days. I want to punch, i want to kick. I want to smash something. I see you standing there, you think youre so cool. Why dont you just fuckoff! Because now i have an excuse to let out all this anger. pinpoint blind fury. Oh been so long since i felt that way. So damn long. Fuck you i wont do what you tell me. Despite what ive said in the last post im still rather angry. You want to antagonize me? antagonize me motherfucker, get in the ring motherfucker and ill whip your lily ass. I shouldnt, but i am. I feel very very twitchy. A bullet in my head, i got a bullet in my fuckin head.

Been having that dull throbbing hammer-in-the-head all day. Jet's migrane stick is coming in rather handy. Im actually thankful Jet's around in the com lab; there's someone to talk to at least. Joined by Tuty for lunch. Erm. Good brandy-soaked fruitcake. Had more chat that confirmed my suspicion on the barracuda theory. Good thing im in, not out. Heard a very sorry story about a poor soul who didnt know about the group and generally got screwed from all 10 directions. Chinese say "Shi mian mai fu". No where no one to run to. I shudder. Ill try to bring more yr ones into the group if i can; ive got to, for my own good too.
Its only then when i began to realise the extent of the damage and situation the tsunamis have caused, as jet began to list down the casualties from each area. omg. I didnt know. I had seen hy's blog but i didnt know. Not that extent. Who am i kidding, i think it was more of dodnt bother, damn bastard. Ive not been listening to radio, watching tv or reading the news for the past 5 days or so; in fact our family didnt, interestingly. When i read hy's post i echoed to mum n dad if they knew anything about the quake, no they didnt. Still thats no excuse. Then as we moved off to town i saw papers around showing all those dreadful images. Ah shit. Im really shocked.
Ah shit. Im shocked at myself.
Here i am bothered so much with my own problems i didnt give no hoot about outside situations and the catasthrophe that has happened. Whats it with me. Just taking life for granted.
Reached home and im really dread to open the papers. Just scanned through them. I really dont think i can cope with all this right now. Um. Its still very shocking.


sheesh.

Anyway, wanted to say that i dont think i want to apply for SEP anymore. Not in year 2 at least; it isnt worth it as much as year 3. Yr 2 offers pretty basic modules that are allocated to you. No choice given. Only in year 3 do you get to specialise and choose for your preferred modules. Im actually aiming for Uni of Adelaide, which i think has a rather strong programme for environmental biology & ecology. And these modules will only be offered in year 3 onwards, so i think ill have to wait a little while. If i go in year 2 it'sll be wasting my time and effort.

I also wanted to say thanks for the ladies for lettin me hang around; call it estrogen therapy but it did help me calm down somewhat. Just simple chatting and lameo jokes, silly blogwars et al helped with some distraction. Felt better at any rate. Didnt feel like going for salsa coz i dont think i could concentrate enough to do my steps corretly. Prolly end up stepping on my potential sugarmummy's toes and pissing her off. Then no more sugar mummy.

There are 2 ways to my estate. One is a longer lamp-lit pedastrian path, the other is the shorter , rarely used rubbly dark route cutting through a wasteland slope. I usually take the latter home.Theres a favorite spot of mine, its a slab of concrete thats white under the dim moonlight. So i knelt down there and started to pray, beg for forgiveness and strength, and for all the poor afflicted. For those trapped and suffering i pray their torment ends fast. For those awaiting rescue i hope they hang in there while help arrives. And i pray that the red tape dosent hinder rescueops too much; each minute counts. Its not much that ive offered, with just that little bit of word and prayer. i ought to be ahsamed of that.

I think i freaked out someone behind me, i could hear footsteps and then stop for the minute i was down. Only when i got up and left did i hear footsteps again. Whatever, i did feel better after it. Didnt dare look back tho.
Ive got to find a more secluded "favorite spot by the rubbly road". this is getting really wierd.


Ill be changing my blog address soon; some things writteh here aren't privy to sibling eyes.

Saturday, December 25, 2004

Nicholas Was...

"Nicholas Was......
older than sin, and his beard could grow no whiter.
He wanted to die.The dwarfish natives of the Arctic caverns did not speak his language, but conversed in their own, twittering tongue, conducted incomprehensible rituals, when they were not actually working in the factories.
Once every year they forced him, sobbing and protesting, into Endless Night. During the journey he would stand near to every child in the world, leave one of the dwarves' invisible gifts by its bedside. The children slept, frozen into time.He envied Prometheus and Loki, Sisyphus and Judas. His punishment was harsher.
Ho.

Ho.

Ho."
-Full Moony Alchemist

Oh man how's that for morbid. Beats my sauron turned pilanthrophist story anytime. Sorry to all offended but i just had to blog this down. lol. Thanks cuz for the link.

Monday, December 20, 2004

imagination on a rubbly road.

Along the way up to my house is a wide rubbly road of concrete up a slope surrounded by long grass bushes and short trees. Half a moon of light was just enough to cast distinct shadows all around. Upon sudden impulse i knelt down. It IS very different from down here. everything seemed so much more real, so much more distinct. Better than reality. My own perfect reality. The slight shadows cast by the pebbles, the swaying grass in the breeze, the crickets. -flash-shift- i'm back in my army days, the ones i have always enjoyed; creeping up that knoll to recon, maintaining eye contact with my comrades, moving, shifting, breathing in the atmosphere.
And wonders i actually sit down on that perfect spot. Now im back in malaysia, the place is beautiful and mysterious. Theres a campfire, the ol gang cooking up the usual maggie mee n sausages, smells so nice after a long hard day. 'drea is here with me and we talk and im happy.

Oh imagination. Ever so wonderful.

Bliss and perfection never felt so good for a minute. I figure it was less than a minute. Then i get up feeling like a damn fool and hoping no one has actually walked past to think that i am crazy or summat.


Saturday, December 18, 2004

Hike Log for Gunung Nuang 1&2

Items: Non stick. Learning/absorbing. Neitszche. Brotherly love. Rigidity. What if. Banality. Insects prefer maidens.

Highlight of the day: Spolit/squashed bananas. Dog/Bitch/Hannah/Sandy, the finicky-fussy dog ranger guide and monkeyhunter. I prefer to call her dogdog in chinese. She'd always be a step ahead of us, and at ahead each rest spot you'll see her snoozing while waiting for you. We all got rather attached to the dog; ah i hated it when goodbye came. Had to carry the poor bitch down the bus coz she followed us up, and the driver then refused to come aboard. Poor thing that.

Lesson of the day: To bring non-stick pans if you are going to cook rosti or pancakes outfield. An aluminium pan simply cannot do. On the other hand the melon and milk were still the best ideas around. Ha! *beams*. Even the bananas made the difference in the pancakes.

Brotherly Love: Oh how i wish my sis was like that. Definitely sweet girl she is. Something in her that triggers that "big brother" instinct. Not that she needs it, she has her own bro on the trip as well. Not to mention that he's the pioneer batch for JCC. I respect that. ALOT. woah. Anyway, i just wish that my sis was just like her. A person like her would be so easy to love and care for. No, i know its not fair to say this. Mei has her own good spots. But they're rare amongst all that rubble. Worst thing is that she dosent even care. Even mom's given up to a certain degree; i have too. Still. At times id imagine she was my sis. Sigh. Thats not good. Seriously.

Neitzsche: Bought clare his 21st yr present: Book by Fred Nietzsche. Read it on the bus and at the base camp. He dosent really understand it. Neither do I. Think we will have to read it slowly. Its just like old times, we arguing over how the name should be pronounced. NEE-ASH is what he says. NEE-SHE is what i proclaim. I think we both are wrong. heh. Fred N appears to be either very egocentric, or has stumbled upon some revelation that shattered him so that his very words look so haunted and frightful, full of gloom. I guess i will want to ask Kevin to give an introduction to Mr N; i dont think i can understand him by myself.

Banality 1: Played those silly card games and became a level 4 pig. But this pig is powerful and soon stumped the rest with even more banalstupid games like Around the world in eighty days, Chinese chopsticks, blackmagic, beer&milk etc. I am a king. No, better. I am a god. they grovel at my feet. Hahhaha its official then. NUS students are much more crappy than NTU students.

after all the rustlebustle clare n i finally get time to sit down n chitchat.

Rigidity: It seems clare has probs of his own, with his sig other n all. Problems of rigidity and refusal to comprehend. Im thinking if a little yielding might help. After all smashing two rocks together will only result in attrition. I hope he realises that his belief in certain principles are too firm to be adaptable to some situations. We are not always dealing with an authority that can be confronted and rebelled against. Heh. To that we both are veterans; pinpoint lights that rage against this cloying darkness. Well, what we presume to be darkness, anyway. Dealing with people on equal ground, now that is much tougher. Oh i cannot presume to have the answers or even know if my suggestions will be helpful. i am not him after all. But it has set me thinking on a couple of issues from many tangents. Whatever it is, i wish him the best.

What If: The most scary thing he told me, however, was this. Quoted from "the Time Machine", someone was telling the time traveller, that man's greatest folly and fear lay in the form of a question: What If.
What if i die tomorrow? And What if there is nothing after death? What if climb to the top of the mountain and find out there is nothing at all? What if the road finally ends and there is nothing there? not even todash and darkness? What if we are just mere organisms living out a finite lifespan, with no soul except one that is imagined by the exceptionally imaginative human mind? What if there is no God?
My problem may lie in this question. I question too much, ask too much for what cannot be answered. All the time i say that certain issues can only exist outside our rationality, but i keep on trying to rationalize it. Like the way a programmed robot cannot accept it when told 2+2 = 5. Rigidity of the mind? Must I further yield?
The power of the question. Dangerous. And scary.

No bad dreams or rather, unpleasant ones for these two nights. I am happy. Oh man. So relieved. But to trade that for cold cold feet. Woke up so many times in the night. Miserable sleeping. Roughing it out. I love it.

The hammock is really useful. If used as one layer, it seals you up from insects and pests like people cooking right beside you, and traps heat. Like a cocoon. hooo. And it allows you to change clothes within without too much fuss too. In with berms, out with slacks. Metamorphosis! Eheheh the ppl ard didnt even know i was changing in there. I now can have my own privacy whereever i go.

Banality 2 (The BanalDuo and MLTR/CelineDion/Campsongs): Oh call me an asshole for calling that guy in the yellow shirt a damn friggin geek! Bastard goes singing so full heartedly mltr shit and celine dion crap, and far worse, CAMP SONGS. Oh god oh god oh god i had to push on forward far from the group to be free of that aural murder. I wonder how xuhao's been taking it.. prolly stuffed his ears with cotton etc. ohgod at any rate me n clar just can NOT stand it. Its a good thing they dont understand the word "banal", coz we've been screaming out "banality alert on the badar!" everytime they belted out seriously out of tune mltr songs. Ohgodhelpusall.

Insects prefer maidens: Thats right. They do. I got, count ONE bite, while most the ladies have galactic starmaps etched on their arms and tighs. Most the guys have none. Then again leeches are more attracted to guys, i think. This poor sod had 2-3 bites at one sitting. Must be extra sweet blood.




The train will have to wait. I must stay a while longer. Decisions cannot come so quickly. I will wait. But I am sick of this. And tired. And really cannot bear to wait. But i will. iwillwaitiwillwaitiwillwait. Irregardless i will still run after the train.

Time is relative, and no one can be sure how the configuration will be each time you look at it. Ill try to hold on as much as i can.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

Linguafeoda Archeronesis

Lingafeoda Archeronesis - Deadly and parasitic xenomorph with complex hive structure.

History - First encountered on plantetoid LV-426 (Archeron), first by crew of Interstellar Tug the Nostromo, then again, 20 years later by colonists of Hadley's Hope. Have been targeted for bioweapons research (Weyland Yutani Corp. and Grant Corp.), and subsequent interactions with xenomorph have always proved costly and destructive. Chain contamination eventually infected Earth, forcing humans to retreat to Gateway Orbital Station. Earth was "recaptured" 60 years later, though pockets of infection still exist.

Atonomy - Xenomorph has a strong exoskeleton of continuously shedded polysaccharide layers bonded to certain heavy metals. Its part-carbon-part-silicon based chemistry allows both versatility for biological interactions and rigidity in structure at the same time, allowing it to survive extreme enviromental conditions. Another feature is its hemolymph, with its high pH value, not only functions as a wonderful defense mechanism, but is able to act as a highly efficient ionic "battery" of sorts, which allows it to survive for long periods of time without nourishment. The creature has no known optical vision, but research has shown that they may possess a certain kind of electrical radar or even slight telepathy that functions to sense and map out its surroundings with much greater effeciency than mere sight alone, allowing it to "see" well in the dark. For defense and hunting the xenomorph mostly uses its strong and prehensile barbed tail to stun its victims before tearing it apart with six fingered dextrous hands, or using its retractable inner-jaw to "core" its prey. Its strong limbs also allow it to climb most surfaces.

Life cycle - Xenomorph has three stages in its life - The egg phase, which is able to undergo hibernation, and have been known to survive for over hundreds of years. The Egg protects and nourishes the facehugger form, which resembles a large ten-fingered hand with a strong prehensile tail. The facehugger can be considered an ambulatory ovipositor, which latches onto a host and lays a xenomorph embryo within its gastronomical crevices. This embryo grows and eventually bursts out of the host, often messily, and is y then known as the chestburster form. This juvenile xenomorph then feeds and grows, moulting several times until it reaches maturity, a black humanoid drone with a longitudinal head. At certain intervals some of these drones undergo further metamorphosis and turn into a queen enomorph, dramatically larger and sporting a much larger and elaborate head-frill.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Sauron's Remorse.

This idea has been running through my mind for a long time. Where have all the elves gone? Im penning it down, angering rabid LOTR fans be damned.

What if Sauron still lives? What if the battle for MiddleEarth had been lost? What if The alliance was finally broken, the fellowship shattered and all darkness came to stay?

Sauron Won.

His first action was to enslave the elves. What little that remained. The rest fled West, into the grey, never to return. Under the cruel whip and tight chain of Sauron, the once proud Elves were broken again and again, until they began to wither, and the elvenlight faded. In time they were reduced to gibbering, weak-minded creatures, and lost all knowledge of their grand history and power. They had fallen lower than their fell cousins the orcs.
Man fared a little better. All that was noble in Man was wiped away, in a great blighting of the Earth. The once proud cities of Man were razed to the ground. Nothing was spared. Only those who swore allegience to Sauron lived, as animals would.
The Hobbits were exterminated, The Shire destroyed. The dwarves were systematically flushed out of their holes like rats and then buried alive. Those who escaped dug deep into the earth, never to surface again.
Earth was finally broken.

After centuries of tryannical rule, Sauron gazed across the withered and wasted land that was his to command. He surveyed the terrified people, running from the Nazgul, drunk with power and feeding off their fear. He heard the ents and trees groan as each was cut for firewood and construction. He saw the terror in the Eagle's eyes as it was released from its cage and chased by the Nazgul on their fell steeds, hungry for the kill.

A single drop of remorse entered his heart. And it grew, and grew, and finally Sauron could take no more. He wanted change. To redo his evil and restore MiddleEarth. The Maiar had destroyed the Earth, now maybe the Maiar would recreate a New Earth.

For the elves he could do nothing. They were too broken for any hope of salvation. But there was hope for man yet. Using the elves as labour, he started rebuilding the cities of old, replanting trees from where he had pillaged. For man he made them forget all the misery and terrible history wrought upon them. Finally, after centuries of toil, Earth was restored. The dark Middle Age was finally forgotten. A New Age of peace and discovery dawned. The Age of Man.

Man, who showed so much promise, would rise again. For Sauron himself he would step down from the throne. He withdrew his servants, the elves, to the cold frigid north, and there he stays till now. But his work was not done. He could never repay his terrible deeds completely, and each year he would seek to repatriate a little to the world. A vast citadel was built. In within, the elves were put to work, making presents and gifts for the children of man, whom he still saw hope in Grandness. And each year the gifts are made, each year he would ride the Nazgul's steeds, under the guise of Reindeer, and send them over to children all over the world.

Each year he passes every house, laughing Ho ho ho, i know if you've been naughty or nice.


Oh boy i must be having way too much time to spare.

Monday, December 06, 2004

hunt

I am sleek. I am pure symmetry. I am a curled in my niche. I am caressed by darkness, warmth, comfort. I feel my kiith. I feel their presence. They feel me. I feel comfort. They feel comfort. I sleep. We sleep.

I sense intrusion. I feel unease. I awake. i sense dis-symmetry. I sense discordia. Anomaly. Aberration. I feel disturbance. I leave my niche. I break my pleasing solitude. I distangle from my sleep. I seek the intrusion. My kiith send their love, consolation and approval. I return affirmation.

I sense the wandering quarry. It is sickly hot with fear. It is smouldering with apprehension. I am sleek symmetry. I am silent. I move unseen, unheard. I stalk the quarry. It knows. It turns. It retreats. I follow. I am unseen, unheard. I darkle. I tinct.
I anticipate a hunt.

The quarry hears my rustle. I add a little hiss. It is horror and terror. It turns, it retreats, it runs. It scrambles through my caverns, my catacombs, my maze. I am smooth symmetry. I flow fluid through the channels and ducts. I am the blackness of night. I lurk beyond the dim light of the tunnels.

The quarry reaches a junction. It is unsure. I hears me. I am stalking stealth. I follow close behind. Terror blows past my quarry and brings it along, through my caverns, my catacombs.
I am patience. I wait in a dark niche. The quarry wanders endless through my maze. I am anticipation. I wait for its appearance. It comes.

I reveal myself. I glisten in the dim light. I am sharpness and teeth. It is now pure terror. It flees faster than wind, though my channels. It breaks free of my maze. I give chase!

I am speed, I am velocity. I hiss, I give chase. I am agility. I follow close behind. I burst through my last channel into the chill night air. I am invirogated. I am hyperreality. I am clarity. I am wide awake. I relish the run. I relish the hunt. I give chase.

The quarry is stark, contrast, red, hot, fear, a pinpoint beacon in a cool, dark, fresh world. I hear its pants. I sense its exhaustion. I am anticipation. It heads for the foothills to its escape.

I am guile and cunning. I detour to the cliffs.
I am pure symmetry and perfection. I am power. I leap the cliff and eclipse the cold moon. I am exquisite symmetry. My quarry sees me. I land on the crowns of the trees. I am stealth and deception. I hide. Leaves spiral to the ground.
I wait.

My quarry wanders in circles unsure. I am sleek steath. I move amongst the branches without a sound.
I am withheld tension. I wait to spring.

The circle draws near to its completion. The quarry stumbles towards me. I move like silent mercury towards the quarry. I am power controlled. I spring and knock it down. The quarry is desperation. It draws and attacks. I am pure symmetry. I am sleek speed. I am control. I strike. I withdraw.
I am pure power. I smash into the quarry. It is knocked breathless. It fights back. I am tenacity and dextrexity. I subdue its strikes. I disable its attacks. I pin down the quarry. My glistening teeth.

I relish the hunt.
I feel fully alive.

I am pure symmetry. I am sleekness. I am speed. I am power. I am perfection.
I am grinning death.

I part my lips. I open my mouth.

I bite.

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