talking of Michaelangelo.
Monday, August 29, 2011
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the heat // 1:06 pm
...is kind of suffocating.
Haven't had time to think and rest properly in awhile. I really need that.
I found the missing again. How could I possibly let you go when you gave me those words, those eyes, those kisses? We both knew if we took a break, I would fade and lose us. And I couldn't bear to hurt you the way I had said I would...
I don't think I could have done it, no, I don't think I could have; know that it would've hurt me just as much as it would hurt you.
And I am sorry I gave you your tears.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
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no way to say it but simply // 7:41 am
I feel very, very alone right now.
I miss my father and my brother.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
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dire // 9:46 pm
Everyday, I smell the sea.
Increasingly forgetful in certain things. I catch myself on the subway or a corridor blanking out or completely forgetting where I am, who I am and what I'm doing. Like a moment of blindness.
Worse and worse... I'm getting worse at hiding and worse at....
I'm terrible.
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mucky // 7:35 am
Everything is foggy and I can't remember and I can't remember. Every day feels like one day farther not closer. I thought occupying my mind on other things would help. Can't reconcile everything together. Can't find the relevance or something......
Monday, August 22, 2011
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strange // 10:15 pm
It was like a dream today. I met people who I've met before, seems like I met people from another lifetime.
Met a man whose eyes seemed to swim into yours, then deep into your mind, then deep under the heart, swimming. Like after he looked at you he sapped some thought in and from you, some spirit or some memory. He said he's a psychiatrist. Strangely enough, he was also really memorable. He's one of those people you remember as being slightly disconcerting after you meet them. Like he's too good of a listener. Felt weird.
Also, taught to speak Cantonese tones by a Caucasian man who had the tones down to the tee. He was fantastic!
Trapped in a freezing box too cold to move.
I went over that bump using my mind but
I don't know where the heart is or was.
(It's better but still sore. Like there's something missing but I really don't know what and I don't know what to do.)
Soon, soon.... soon. Patience.
Friday, August 19, 2011
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I wonder why this post was never posted... // 10:19 pm
This feels like aeons ago. I want to go back to this kind of simplicity where just breathing felt so full and so powerful. And now in this chaotic mess, I know how much I crave it and need it. How much I hold those moments close.
Hmm, and the excerpt from Siddhartha...
August 6th, 2011, 11:38PM
I like the silent moments too. Like, breathing together in the same moment. Timeless. Spaceless.
Kind of unrelated, but speaks of time and has such pretty words.
"Not knowing any more whether time existed, whether the vision had lasted a second or a hundred years, not knowing any more whether there existed a Siddhartha, a Gautama, a me and a you, feeling in his innermost self as if he had been wounded by a divine arrow, the injury of which tasted sweet, being enchanted and dissolved in his innermost self..."
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days passing... // 10:59 am
I'm so tired. Feel like I'm trudging in mud and every day feels like another triumph and another failure.
I feel like I'm just on a roller coaster that won't ever, ever end and I can't breathe or I feel like there's no stop and no rest and no refuge and nowhere to run.
Non-stop. Sometimes, meeting people genuinely in this strange, high-tension place is challenging. What are the right things to say in which situations...
And it's hard to always keep guard, because I'm too good at letting my guard down and really bad at keeping walls up.
...and I'm so, so tired.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
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embarkment // 2:22 pm
More than ever now, I feel that warmth. This intense feeling that I am supported so well. So many people to fall and lean on. So many supportive spirits that will catch me and lift me and push me to where I need to be. I have an army behind me, and I'm ready. I am touched by those who've given me so much.
Bubble wrapped and shipped.
Ready to go. 24 hours before I'm in the 852.
(And now I am crying, I will miss the father so much.)
Friday, August 12, 2011
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exhaustion beyond belief // 12:32 pm
Packing is honestly the worst activity in the whole world.
My life in boxes, suitcases and garbage bins. It's the worst.
I need to hydrate. Hydrate.
B12?
Sunday, August 07, 2011
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not moving // 11:04 am
Found a post from August 1st that I drafted but never posted:
"I'm not unraveling as I thought I would be by now. Twelve days to prepare and I'm still laying around, idling, reading, doing things I like to do."
Hm, I'm still doing that... I think I should start doing stuff.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
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my heart and the X-ray man // 9:50 pm
I got a chest X-ray done today to make sure I don't have any "communicable diseases". The room felt like a magic room with whirring machines and a strange kind of lighting. Somewhere I would imagine the wizard of Oz to reside.
The X-ray technician who showed me my X-rays was very friendly, freckled and had an interesting moustache. He said (a mild Indian accent) "K, hmm, that is good name. Who give you that name?"
"My mother."
"Oh your mother is good, it is good name." He proceeded to put his hands in unclenched fists, thumbs facing up, pointing out and asked me to do the same. Bewildered, I did as he asked and he said "This is size of your heart. Everyone different, see."
He points at my X-ray and beckons for me to put my hands in that formation up against the shadow of my heart. Please with himself, he smiles at me, "See? I tell you the truth."
We look at the X-ray, a silent pause, and I ask, "I hope there's nothing wrong with me." He says, "No, no. No problem."
"What is that one over there?"
He says, "Ah, that is the stomach. Your stomach is empty. Hungry, huh?" We laugh.
An interesting encounter.
I am also mighty fond of my physician and her secretary. They're nice people of a different sort, I can't put my finger on it though. They're genuinely and naturally warm and has good humour. Nice smiles, laughs and voices too.
Friday, August 05, 2011
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// 9:45 pm
A coward, that's what I am.
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steamed crabs, an art // 11:35 am
I'm covered in the yellow goop of crabs, my shirt spotted with it. And I smell of it. And ginger and green spring onions. Under my fingernails and in my hair. And it was delicious.
The knife must be swift and with one motion. The hammering with the other hand, one strike! Keep the meat locked in.
Ebullient laughter ringing out, feasting on happy!
Abundance of food, so warm and the talk had musical quality.
A good funeral.
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thus spoke the father // 4:32 am
Over our midday meal today, the father said to me, "To reach a new level of maturity, one must achieve the most patient and the highest ability of
listening. In your profession, teaching, it is not your utterances that will matter most, but rather your ability to listen closely to your students and to listen so very closely before you speak."
I told him what he said reminded me of
Siddhartha, and a lot of things do these days, very strangely so.
A beautiful passage on Vasudeva, a teacher.
"Vasudeva listened very attentively. Listening carefully, he let everything enter his mind, birthplace, and childhood, all that learning, all that searching, all joy, all woe. This was among the ferryman's virtues one of the greatest: like only a few, he knew how to listen. Without a word from Vasudeva, the speaker sensed how Vasudeva let his words enter his mind, quiet, open, waiting, how he did not lose a single one, awaited not a single one with impatience, did not add his praise or rebuke, was just listening. Siddhartha felt, what happiness it is to unburden himself to such a listener, to sink his own life into this listener's heart, his own seeking, his own suffering."A bit of beautiful wisdom or trait I must develop. I want to be a person whose heart people can sink their life into. Too often too rash with my thoughts (quick to judge), too often too quick with my words (quick to speak), too often too impatient with my acts (quick to choose and choose wrongly). I need that serenity Vasudeva embodies and exudes.
I need this virtue, this "just listening".
Thursday, August 04, 2011
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enter the German lieder // 10:21 am
Oh, glorious glorious!
The stories that music spins from poetry and from narratives. The recitativo secco of Schubert's Der Erlkönig. The sinister build up and the dark twisted dramaticism. The intensity of the whole thing. The seductive voice of the Erlkönig... so smooth, greasy, luring, the temptations he offers. Done well, you can hear the changes in the music so clearly without knowledge of the language and it gives you chills. The creepiness of the whole thing. God, Schubert, you genius.
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt!(And if you're not willing, then I'll use force!)
God I'm going to have nightmares from this and
Firebird.
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Russian ballets and French operas // 7:39 am
Today has been powered by Bizet and Stravinsky (and some Oblomov).
Watched
Petrushka and am in awe of the colours and the vitality of the rhythm and how interesting ballet can be. Not only that but Stravinsky's choice of story for this is brilliant. The music and the dance makes for an interesting combination and words aren't everything. The ghost of Petrushka, the perfect set... the emotions evoked on the faces... how each beat is not wasted, brilliant!
And Mr. George Bizet - the Habanera aria - annoyingly catchy and the overture is constantly running and running in my head.
I'd like to watch
Firebird now...
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
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on Siddhartha // 2:16 pm
I'm nearing the end of this... actually nearing the end of many things, and of course, starting anew.
Anyway,
Siddhartha. First a general comment. I don't think I've ever felt so light and drawn to another world as this. I have been reading this as I sit in the strangest places, unfamiliar places... The words seem to wash over me like really soft warm sand. I want to read more and more of it, but I feel like I've neglected some in thirst for more; so I try so hard to hold the words in me, altogether and try to make it one, try to remember it as one whole. I think it's good. It's not earth-shatteringly dramatic or cry-worthy, doesn't heighten or evoke emotions the way I usually like it, but it sort of creates this serenity in me; like I'm lifted to a separate space, a place different from where I am when I read it.
I have tons more, but we'll start with this one.
"When someone seeks," said Siddhartha, "then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal. You, Venerable One, may truly be a seeker, for, in striving toward your goal, you fail to see certain things that are right under your nose."I am so, so sleepy but there is much to do....
Hm, he speaks of sleep and of words too...
but more tomorrow, to bed for me now.