Thursday, 4 October 2012

SAYING YES WHEN IT SHOULD BE NO

Sudden resolutions, like the sudden rise of mercury in a barometer, indicate little else than the variability of the weather.
-David Hare

Some situations arise at times of least expectation. A sunny day suddenly becoming rainy, an easy test with that one impossible question, and even that amazing phone that decides to go on the fritz. This is part of life and acting surprised by this means only one thing, you are part homo ignoramus. No shame in having ancestral ties to the leading cause of the near extinction of the human race.....
Now, I value my intelligence, I revel in it but then every now and again I become an involuntary volunteer to these events where my wits are tested.
Yesterday was one of those events. My girlfriend (I feel like she's been the topic of concern for most of my posts for the past week but just having the audacity to write "my girlfriend" feels so magnificent) came to school and she seemed rather upset. Being the concerned guy that I am I asked her what the problem was but she was a bit resilient on spilling the cup of hot coffee (well, at the time I had no idea it was hot coffee). I plagued her constantly with my monologue on how a good relationship is founded on communication, which I did ever so subtly, and she gave in.
What came from her were words that I would never forget. Little words but they carried a great impact, "I missed my periods." Yikes!!!
And then it smacked me like a bitch. All my teenage life I had been dreading the thought of such news. How would I handle such a situation? What would our lives amount to if I/she/we were expecting at this point of our lives?
But that was just the thing. These questions didn't race through my mind. Only one thought circumnavigated the diameter of my brain-what will he/she look like?
What the fuck?!! I know, right. Twisted.......
Anyway, is something wrong with me. How would someone in that position ever react like that? I'm barely an adult and the prospects of a child seem enticing.
It was a rather selfish thought because I needed to have been concerned for her sake. She was the one who experienced the fear at a physical level. All the hormones that might have been raging through her at that moment and I was simply exploring the physical traits of a hypothetical child.
But like she said, it was just a missed period which,  according to her is common, so we might have nothing to worry about.
I decided to be excited about this occurrence before my time had arrived and now I have to find a way to get my psychology in check before I ruin our lives. But how bad would it be to have a child with the woman I love? At the moment, it's probably the worst thing that could happen but I do look forward to a time when it would be expected of us........

Tuesday, 2 October 2012

TO WRITE IS TO CALIFORNICATE...

Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother.
-Khalil Gibran 

So, I'm a great fun of Californication and the antiques of David Duchovny. Why is that so? Simple questions deserve simple answers; I'm a writer and Duchovny makes magic and miracles out of this beautiful gift. But one problem arises. David and I have nothing in common. Yes, if I were to use him as a yardstick to define what an author should be then I would just not make the cut.
As a character, David Duchovny is everything that I am not. I may not want to elaborate on this because then it makes me seem like vegetable.
However, being the introvert that I am thinking is my forte. Hence I came to this assumption. David Duchovny, well his character, is nothing more than just that; just a character. Someone locked themselves up and thought up the perfect character for a deteriorating and insanely creative writer and shock unto us....... he was born. Ah, yes, his name was/is Hank Moody.
His struggle with personal demons quails my mind and his determination to be a better man but constantly fails adds an amazing twist to life that cannot be found in our everyday scenarios. Why is my life so different to that? That's because I am not a character thought up in the confines of ones basement. Well, as far as I know.
All this in the name of questioning what it means to be a writer..... I write, hence I am.

Monday, 1 October 2012

MATURITY

Gold medals aren't really made of gold. They're made of sweat, determination, and a hard-to-find alloy called guts.
-Dan Gable

Every once in a while we're hit with this sudden realisation that we are only as good as our last attempts. It hurts to have to comprehend the fact that no current yardstick can be used to measure your accomplishments hence you revert back to using that which you have recycled for years and years. Am I any better? No.
Over the last couple of years i have made it my mission to let the world hold dear the fact that I'm a writer. There is no problem with that rather than the fact that my last serious stint as a writer was at the age of 12. Currently, my achievements as a writer boil down to that one book. I am not thrilled to say that no other works can help one decide whether I am  a writer or not. Yes, I have the power to decide whether or not I am but the world needs to see and take in the fact that I am an artist and here <insert book title> is my art but alas, that could have only happened five years ago.
The man within me has decided that the time has come for me to let go of events and achievements made possible by the juvenile and start making his own success. How do I do that? That's a smart question and the answer is just as smart........... Aspirations plus inspiration plus perspiration will get me success. Motivation may stroll outside the lawn but when it decides to knock it has to find you working or it moves on. That's what the juvenile knew and that's what I forgot.
It took the twelve year old Oscar an entire night and flask of coffee to finish his book and the eighteen year old Oscar needs to understand that only with such determination will he be able to smile at his successes.
Coffee and sleepless nights will be the routine until Oscar, the man, finds his way to success.

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

OPEN UP

 Frustration, although quite painful at times, is a very positive and essential part of success.
-Bo Bennet

And here we are again. What shall this oddly frustrated boy, I mean man, have to say about the queer thoughts that traverse my squiggly mind (yes, in here it be unruly).
So, shocker-I got a girlfriend. Yes, this "dawg" has been busy. How did all this happen? Well, this happened when an odd and curious young chap met a woman with more worth in her being than most people have in their entire existence. We've been dating for two months and two weeks and the beauty of the relationship has blossomed rapidly.
Anyway, that's not what the post is focusing on. The point of this post is to discuss what I have experienced in the relationship ever since it started getting serious.
From without, it all seems like daisies and freshly cut roses. Well, I'm here to tell you, it is..... Really?!
ハイ モチロン......... You probably don't get that but it doesn't make much of a difference.
I don't know if it's just her or maybe I feel easy around her radiance. Things have been so good for such a long time such that it got me worried as what would happen once that joy was to start sliding away.
Then today happened.

As far as I was concerned it was going to be just another Tuesday where I'd pick her from her home and we'd leave for school together. That was the plan until I was informed that we were to take her sister to her school so as she could get some forms signed and take them to her father for further inspection. She's my girlfriend so the answer was a definite why not.
We left and things were going well until we messed up the schedule. My perspective on time may not be as severe as that of an Asian but I do appreciate sticking to one schedule.
Frustration set in but I could not complain about it because I understand that she was taking care of her family and I had agreed to being a part of the ride. Being quiet about my problems is something I've mastered but I've come to understand that with her I need to learn to speak up. She is amazing and the essence of my contentment but I should not let the fear of displeasing her make me unhappy.
After those few remarks I come to understand and appreciate that silence isn't golden but a rather cheap imitation of the real deal.

Thursday, 20 September 2012

TO BE OR NOT TO BE? THAT TRULY IS THE QUESTION....

The more unintelligent a man is, the less mysterious existence seems to him.
-Arthur Schopenhauer

As of September 3rd I have made it my business to assemble every last functioning neuron in my brain to enjoy the complexities that is philosophy. In high school I always gave myself props for having a deductive mind that would penetrate the ideologies of Marx and Machiavelli in order to......well, to make them look like idiots. That was the plan.
However, my perception of philosophy is not what it turned out to be. On my first lesson I was bombarded with questions such as what is free will? is there really a god? is there anything beyond the universe we know? and so on. In all honesty, those were rather interesting questions. It was a riot to watch the entire class divide into factions that would either support or oppose different ideas.
Soon enough the fun subsided and we were discussing topics such as logic and the minds of Socrates and Aristotle. To any other philosophy student-YES- to me-WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING HERE?
And then it came...........
What the lecturer brought for us was something discerning. Something that picked at my mind for days. The lecturer had brought to class a sheet of paper that had in it information on the philosophical aspects of physics, its history and so on.
So, apparently, physics is divided into three categories; classic physics, molecular physics, and quantum physics. Well, that's all well and good but why would I be interested in that? The answer to that lies deep in the confines of molecular physics.
Molecular physics gives this notion that, well in simple terms, big things are just small versions of even bigger things (ignoramus terminology). The idea behind this is that every object is made up of tiny particles called atoms and those atoms are made up of even smaller particles which are protons neurons and electrons. 
Now, behind this fact (or opinion) is an even more puzzling concept. The space between every neuron, proton, and electron is so expansive that the idea of existence seems unworldly. Everything around us is then presumably made of space. Again, what the fuck!!!
Molecular physics then argues out that physical matter does exist but there isn't much of it in any given physical object and our notion of matter is nothing more than empty space.
So does this mean that existence does not carry with it the weight it does at your current stage of ignorance? Yes, it does. If we are all space then it means then, virtually, we barely (yes, barely) exist. We are in essence units of space. 
And then came Quantum Physics. What does this beast entail? This monster states that these subatomic particles are not particles but rather amounts of energy (quanta means amounts in Latin) that only exist by probability. That is to say that these particles only have a tendency to exist. If that be the case then it raises the question- are we or aren't we? According to this theoretical science we may not be.
Existence is nothing but a mere conjured notion of the human mind. What does it mean to exist? Having a tendency only makes it clear that we may not be but the fact that I am here doing this shows that I am therefore I do.
To be or not to be? That truly is the question.

Saturday, 9 June 2012

AN ODE TO ALL THE WORLD'S FATHERS

My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
- Clarence B. Kelland


Father's day is upon us once again and unlike any other year I have decided to acknowledge the grace bestowed upon this here lad by a man that some could call stern, rigid or senior. This, I truly hope, will be my annual tradition.
What made me want to do this? I have no idea. Maybe it's the fact that my father lives a country away or maybe it's the fact that maturity is beckoning. Hopefully, it carries along with it a hint of wisdom. The reasons matter not. What will be written upon this virtual page is an extract from my mind. A view to the world of a child watching his father. What did that child learn? What did that child carry with him? What did that child emulate?
I was born lucky. I had with me a father and a mother (a mother is a bit obvious). No losses were made in the operating room and nothing was carried out that would be regretted years down the line. 
My father toiled night and day to ensure that what I had was only the best and he did just that. I was always in the best schools, I always had the best clothes and my home has always been nothing short of amazing. 
I remember as a child growing up and thinking how much I disliked my father. Yes, his stern, rigid and senior nature angered me. No, maturity was not anywhere close at that point of my life. I failed to acknowledge what he had done for me. I did not realize that he was a man who put it all on the line to ensure that his children were comfortable. No, to me it was all about what he said no to. That was all that I looked at.
Of course as time passed I saw my father for what he really was. He was not a man aiming to please but a man aiming to make himself proud. For his stern nature I started to see composure, for his rigid nature I started to see assertion and for his senior nature I started to see maturity which was something that I had never had. 
You see, a father is not put in one's life to say yes to whatever you want but rather to show you the difference between living and being alive. There is a big difference between being a father and fathering. Yes, if you are willing to do something for your father on Father's day then my friend, you have a father, not just a person who fathered you.
Appreciate that small things that your father has done for you because as long as there is no war, you are bound to bury him. Look back at all the years that he has lifted you up when you were down, when he has said you can do it even though everyone else said you could not or when he taught you that one thing that makes you feel like you are better than everyone else. 
Mothers are golden, fathers are platinum. 
My father may never read this but I want it to be out there. In a virtual world where all those who can respond and do something great for their fathers will do it. 
Maybe maturity has arrived and it brought with it a lot more than just a hint of wisdom. 

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

UNTITLED

Something dawned on me before I began jotting down this current read-it has been months since I last wrote anything. Wha is happening to me? I frightens me so. The synapses in my brain feel detached to that spark that had adorned me the gift. Maybe m father was right. "One day you'll stop writing," he said to me. Back then I would laugh at him. The talent got to my head or at least it infected my mind. I have learned that the mind should not heed what the brain possesses. The mind is the balance beam. Whatever battles that rage on within your head are controlled by the mind and if the mind partakes in duties to be handled by the brain we get a collision. I have experienced the colllision. The gift is draining away from me. No need to be frightened by this. It has happened in the past and I found a way to come through. However, something feels different. It's not just in my mind but in my speech pattern my cognitive abilities, my physical capabilities. Something is happening to my body and it has nothing to do with raging hormones. DOCTOR, DOCTOR, GIVE ME THE NEWS!!!
Should I really fear the threat of encroaching demise? Is it a tumor, an aneurysm or nothing more than a migrane. Whatever it may be it has wreaked havoc in my psyche. I remember who I was three years ago. Do I miss him? To some level I do. He was analytical, impervious to impression and arrogant to the bone. However, he was also timid, lonely and arrogant to the bone. Something happened between July and September of 2009 for that was when the metamorphosis occured; my devolution. What am I turning into? It leaves me with no pride but anger and despair. World, help me come to a conclusion.