Wednesday, August 19, 2009
To the remaining readers of this blog, I have moved to greener pastures. You can locate me at http://lingnemesis.wordpress.com/.

I hope to slit you there swoon. =D
Monday, July 06, 2009
Last Saturday, I went forth to a solitary film therapy session, one which I have not gone for in a considerable amount of time, taking into account the sheer lack of films recently that attracted my attention long enough.

I was taking quite abit of a blind plunge as this film I chose to watch is a local film made by Ho Tzu Nyen simply called "Here", thanks to the deeply engrained mindset that Singaporean films lack substance, depth and everything that contends for a worthy watch. But holy smokes, I was proven deeply and forcefully wrong with this particular visual opus.

What this film offered was a meditative reverie for its viewers where time is a variable ignored where the camera just rolled in normal relativity, upon the lush greenery around the fictitious mental facility called Island Hospital (which was really filmed in a former mental hospital, View Road Hospital, in Woodlands). While the viewers loosen their grip and minds and let them slow down to the pace of life in Island Hospital, the film soundtrack - Amazing Grace gently teases and provide an ironic icing on the film. The main protagonist of the film who mysteriously killed his wife and lost his speaking abilities had a line (more like written, actually) that blew my mind quite apart. The hospital staff asked "Why are you here?" His reply was "Because I am not there." Such hidden melancholia, such an expression of his yearning tortured soul.

There were many many other expressions of ''madness'' scattered in the film - one patient claimed there is a planet out there where pills and vitamins flow free from the volcano eruptions while the pathetic humans here pay to buy them, and one (the one which the protagonist fell in love with) claimed since things are so unevenly distributed amongst people, it isn't wrong to take things. In this film, where reality and madness were so commonly interspersed around, sanity became a commodity very, extremely questionable. What is this sanity and insanity, anyway, in this messed up world of ours today?

One character - Robert, brought up a touching (maybe!) issue called "Amor Fati"/"Love of Fate" and that it is ultimately inevitable to evade one's fate through the offered ho
spital treatment called "videocure", and he, heeding to his philosophy of Amor Fati, decided that videocure wasn't for him and faced with his fate of ''madness'' full throttle. This reminded me immensely of my favourite philosopher - Friedrich W. Nietzsche's notion of Eternal Recurrence, which asked people if their lives operates in a complete cyclical manner, and they have to do the same things again and again, how would they go about with life? The unbearable lightness of being.

Well, the main protagonist of the film, who eventually got released fr
om the hospital, decided to adhere to Amor Fati and checked himself back into the hospital again, to be together with the soulmate he met in the hospital.

"My formula for human greatness is amor fati: that one wants to have nothing different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely to bear the necessary, still less to conceal it--all idealism is mendaciousness before the necessary--but to love it."

~Friedrich W. Nietzsche
I want to watch the film, again.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
  The vissitudes of time
Today I was awoken by a text message from my friend who announced the news of the passing of the, arguably, greatest pop icon in at least 5 decades - Michael Jackson. Be assured I didn't went back to sleep after reading that message. An individual who I admired and respected with immense proportions. His anthems which captured countless hearts of the generations down the timeline and qualified as musical landmarks in history. Billie Jean. Thriller. Beat It. Bad. The list is endless. I can only say I am unfortunate to have missed the golden moment when he bloomed in his full regal prowess with his impeccable performance antics and his signature move Moonwalk.

It was believed he died from a sudden cardiac arrest. What a quick and uneventful death that was, to such a man who created such deep, wide and lasting impact on generations globally. Ironic, everyone would have thought such people would have a blast towards their demises. Such is human nature. Unpredictable, impermanent, and very much volatile.

Comment no further upon a dead man about his last moments, and let us be reminded by his inspiring works and the better days which he was involved in creating. Better days which we witnessed, revelled, and glad to be part of. Earth was honoured to have such an individual upon its surface. If mankind is gone, and I could leave something behind for the next phase of life in remembrance of our humankind, I'd leave Michael Jackson's Thriller album behind.

Rest in eternal peace in Neverland, Michael Jackson. Hope your soul will return to Earth to create more pieces of art, sometime in the future.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
  Evolution for the worse?
I was reading the papers the other day, and an article attracted attention to me, the title of the article reads "Have we lost the ability to feel?" To summarise what the article is about how in this modern world and the daily hassles and monotonous grind of social roles to assume and fulfil, we seemed to have lost the ability to experience life and events in a wholesome manner, to re-inspire our weary souls. I couldn't have agreed more with the writer, for I feel that weighing down on me like stones tied onto my ankles.

Isn't it sad?

To deepen my sense of melancholy, my recent trip to the Science Centre for the Da Vinci Exhibition made me more embedded on my idea that modern human life is downright lacklustre. To see the sheer amount of inventions and ideas ranging from that wide a range of expertises coming from one single man in an era where little external support exists, it's definitely very inspiring and mind-blowing initially. Then, that initial spark of inspiration turned into something brooding as I pondered further upon the fellow humans in this current age. Glued to the screen that permeates every aspect of their lives - handphones, TVs, computers, billboards, advertisement panels, the list is endless. Being thrusted to a set of social roles to fulfil from the age of a toddler. *damn you to the depths of anarchy hell, political philosophy!* The subsequent endless series of social expectations to fulfil - friends, grades, a degree, a partner, sex, stable desk job, to rise up the corporate ladder, to get that senior position, have children amidst the irrational state of mind during sex, bring up children who will become irremovable burdens in life, get a house which will require you 20 years to finish paying, when your children moves out then starts to ponder and worry about whether your pension is enough for your old age. True but tragic.

So fixated are our comtemporary mindset that we have forgotten about the wonders of the human mind and what those wonders can bring forward.

That is why I make it a point to have solitary trips as often as possible where the only company I have is my music player and a long bus/train ride or a stroll in the park. For myself to heal, for myself to feel, for myself to recharge, for myself to reach mental/ emotional/ spiritual equilibrium. To treat every moment alone as golden, to ignore the voices of the mob, to stare far ahead at the horizon, to look at the clouds, to look within myself.

People may think I am insane, but to me, the insane are the people. =)
Sunday, June 07, 2009
  Of ringing ears and a neck that feels decapitated.
So I have put myself through 6 hours of continuous live metal music today at the Resurrection concert. Draining as it were, but it was definitely worth every single ounce of energy as it is not an everyday sight and sound to hear the music that one so fervently adore being played at such an indignant volumes and where its supporters can revel in unison.

I was there especially to witness performances from Rudra, Meza Virs and Draconis Infernum, although the other acts were nice introductory listens which offered certain times of auditory and visual enjoyment, the latter being the self-asphysixation with microphone wire act from Meltsgnow.

In retrospect, I thoroughly enjoyed every song from the 3 abovementioned bands, with no distinct difference in preference, which created a seamless stream of auditory roller coaster ride. Each offering times for one's expression through headbanging, moshing, and sometimes bodysurfing. The sensation of having those unrepentent sound waves reverberating through your body and your ears at full intensity while you unhinge your self awareness and then subsequently unleash your weary soul away from your physical body. Henceforth, you find yourself clasping your arms over to your neighbour's shoulders and your head being flung up and down at quite incredible speed and momentum. It doesn't matter if you don't know the neighbour-audience, or if you start to think you look mentally unbalanced with your hair flaying all over when your head starts flinging on its own will. You are smiling inside. And, that is what made the difference and that is what made it worth the ounces of energy.

One afterthought that kept me anticipiating for the next round of metal madness was that from the Meza Virs' frontman, Cedric, who quite calmly announced his glorious plan of sending the normal Baybeats crowd to hospital later this year. I can't wait to witness the reactions of the ''indie-rock-alternative-emo-whatever-you-want-to-label-it" fans. =D Let the invasion commence!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
For the past consecutive Sundays, I have started to notice a thing that has been contributing to my temperament that in turn contributed to my increasing neglect of this cyber repository.

You see, the fact that I reside in such a densely populated place like Singapore where it's impossible not to have people talking to you, demanding things from you, requesting you to do things even for the span of a few hours, makes living a chore for a person like me. I used to treat Sundays as my sanctuary, the full 24 hours entirely to myself. To heal. To re-charge. To regain equilibrium. To find inspiration. To find peace. This is getting increasingly impossible now, I have no idea why... I simply loathe the feeling of a half-rested mood on Sundays nowadays, where my mind and emotional state are troubled and bothered by the incoherent noises of the people around me, by the swarms of people that has been so terrifying swelling up here in Singapore in the recent years. I feel like a half-charged battery on the recent Sundays, sluggish, highly volatile, unfulfilled. In a nutshell, not ready to expend my energies once more on the upcoming Monday. Also, in a nutshell, do not disturb my Sundays. Thank you.

Somehow, I dislike my introversion tendency for this reason, although I take a hell lot more pride in my persona. I realised it takes alot of time alone for me to feel well-equipped again, which led me to dwell on the fact that I would most likely feel like a cadaver by the time I actually start to work full-time/leaving very minimal time to onself for the exchange for a terrible invention called money. I wonder how fellow introverts survive in the working world... Unnerved, I am, very. I actually burrowed a book from the library called "Party of One: The Loner's Manifesto" some days ago, because I need reassurance that what I am feeling is normal and I'm not going insane. Sigh...

On brighter topics, I have acquired a new CD, entitled Drudkh's Blood in our Wells (Кров у Наших Криницях). One of the more worthy purchases of mine in the recent months. When I heard it online, I was immediately blown away with immense surprise as my ears have grown so disenchanted with the lacklustre tunes of many bands out there and my heart grown cold with the lack of a new flame. But Drudkh. This Ukrainian band impressed me so much on the debut listen that I immediately texted my favourite Metal CD store and placed an order for this album. Listening to it makes me feel like a young (not that I am old, just a comparsion of era, lol) passionate, hungry listener sitting entrapped in the glorious cacophonies once again, like a walk in a new forest that will surprise you with beautiful sights at every turn and crevice, or like trying a new food, which you grew to love so quickly.

It's simply amazing.

I also acquired the ticket to a local Metal music concert in which more than 5 bands would perform in, including of Rudra, a band which I adore with great intensity ever since I witnessed them desecrate the Esplanade outdoor stage some 3 years back. I couldn't wait to witness their desecration once more. The thought of listening to "The Pathless Path to the Unknowable Knowable" live brings me both adrenaline and edorphines. Also performing is the first (and I hope not the last!) black metal-orientated band perform at Baybeats - Meza Virs. I have witnessed their performances at the Baybeats Auditions and I know they are toning it down at the Auditions. Therefore, I believe they will make a much bigger and forceful impact at this particular concert.

Let's not talk about a dreadful topic like my current block of hospital attachment, shall we? =)
Thursday, April 30, 2009
  Nightmarred and Dreamscarred? I hope not! Hell forbid!
Although tomorrow is a public holiday and I will be relieved of school and its related social ennui, I don't feel exceptionally jovial about it. Why?

Well, just fathom having your mother having almost 3 instances of fainting in less than 4 to 5 days, you might, then, have a vague idea of my current emotional state. One of which I can't do much to relieve her of the distress of a near collapse because I was away in school for another good few hours or more, the factor of not being able to see that she has regained equilibrium and me prosulating several scenarios in my mind was quite a torture. That is not inclusive of the text message she sent that reads - "如果妈妈一天倒下不起,你要好好照顾自己和好好爱爸爸。“, which translates to "If mom were to collapse for good one day, you must take good care of yourselves and love your dad." Not a very pleasant text to receive, at all. It just leaves a very bitter and sour aftertaste after you read the message and stare into the blank space in front of you while you stink in the speechless reverie for a good few minutes, while behind that reverie, your mind conjures all sorts of reasoning why your mom would send such a dismal text message. While the rational side of you vehemently rejects all possiblity of any reasonings your mind have just conjured up. It is a constant mental and emotional warfare over there.

That was not the end of it.

I had dreamt that something fatal that happened upon my mother a few weeks back. And I remembered so very vividly that I weeped in the dream and I could really feel my heart plunging into abyssal depths of my soul, pouring out acid unceasingly. The sense of acute wretchedness was so realistic and sharp that I was awoken by it. I continued to weep even after waking up, for at least a good minute, and then cursed to myself why does this dream have to manifest and condemned Sandman to the pits of Hell. This is, definitely, one time that I did not enjoy an ounce of my (usually highly creative and destructive) dreamscapes. That just added so much more unpleasantness in this whole incident. So everytime I dwelled upon this recollection of this dream, I was teetering between the gap of dream and reality and questioning myself, "Is this gap narrowing?" Which was followed by me cursing even more.

Let this be the full stop to this series of unplesant incidences, shall we? Yes, yes, we should. =)


On the brighter side of the spectrum of events, last saturday saw the largest card flourish gathering (and one of the best) I have witnessed in, arguably, years. Ever since the SMC era, anyway, so that led me to enjoy the session alot albeit I was pushed into joining a card flourish battle-styled compeition (of which I won) at the very last minute. I enjoyed it because the feeling of being surrounded by a good dozen card handlers has been lost for so long and to feel it again felt like I have met a long-lost friend. The feeling was all warm and fuzzy, and it seemed to have removed all the negativities I have long attached to the whole card scene and also restored a different and positive air to a card-flourish session - that is to enjoy flourishing and meet fellow enthusiasts, and not to suspect of closed-doors-talk and the subsequent feeling of isolation within friends. I have to thank Justin for organising it for it re-instilled a sense of optimism for the card scene, and a gale of fresh air as we have saw a few new faces who turned up. =)

And, in school, I have been introduced to a great life-long manner to plot down one's life in a simple and diagrammatic manner in the Developmental Psychology module. It's like constructing a timeline for yourself and marking down events that have changed your life, either positively or negatively. I realised I have had more of positive markings than negative, maybe I chose to filter out the negativities... And, I attributed more events to inner development like finding out Metal Music, card flourishing, Philosophy, which indeed contributed very much to who I am today and has injected much joy in my life despite the solitary quality of those activities... Anyway! Since I am so very impressed by this egocentric activity of autobiography, I have decided to do it once every few years and fill up a mahjong paper! Haha.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
  Paradise Lost?
So my 6 week long school vacation has sounded its death knells and I am now almost halfway through the first week of the second year of my studies in Radiography (still trying to grasp the concept that I am really in this career).

I am mostly glad that I am back in school, to shift my attention away from certain *negative* emotional upheavals pertaining to one of my favourite hobbies that involves finding ways to shuffle pasteboards and largely, underhand, very unemotional ways of fellow hobbyists to their lofty projects and what not. Sigh. So yes, it does feel refreshing to momentarily forgo that sense of emotional aridness and utter isolation, and to immerse myself in simpler tasks like learning and idle chit chat with classmates. Even that latter option is appealing to a person like me, usually so hateful of idle social situations, that tells you alot of the severity of the emotional aridness and isolation I am facing right now. So, I am on an online website detox that is pertaining to any aspect of that above-mentioned hobby. No. That will not be the end of the hobby for me, unfortunately, fellow hobbyists. =)

I was attending the first Communications lecture this afternoon, and one line from the lecturer (whom I thought was a great lecturer already) that hit a very very deep and well-timed chord within me. It goes something like this "I realised something, if you tend to strive for nothing but the truth in any relationship or situation, you are very very likely to be alone." I was sitting there, half reclining with my arms crossed and went speechless mentally for like a minute. Not very easy task to make LingNemesis go speechless mentally for any given amount of time, by the way. Not only did the lecturer gained immediate and utmost respect from me, besides already impressing me alot, this is the rare few times when I felt that I am not going insane from feeling so misanthropic so often. Thank you so much, for that one line. =)

I can't wait for her next lecture. I know great lines will descend from her. I hope I can have a little conversation with her at some point of time.

Hell, bleeping Hell. It has been years and years since I felt that affected by a teacher. The last one being Mr. Dalvey Neo around 5 years ago, back in my secondary school. Amazing.

Too bad it's just a 30 odd hour module. =\

And, tomorrow, we have a National Education lecture which I reckon will be very much like the lower secondary's Social Studies subject. What the hell? I shall enjoy myself by their rendition of Singapore history and what not, and largely by playing out songs and movies in my head, which I am getting exceptionally well at. If my mind proves to be malfunctioning, I can always abuse the free SMS Twitter service. =D

Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Do not get misguided by the lack of activities here as a sign that yours truly has became a total misanthrope and wallowing in the cesspool of ennui, because I am not at all!

The previous week was pretty much neat, especially the weekend. On one of the weekdays, me, Valerie and Stuart went off to a phototaking trip to Lim Chu Kang area and Marina Barrage. A good change of events from my usual sitting around at the laptop on weekdays during holidays. Unfortunately, the area we are heading for at Lim Chu Kang was occupied by the military for their mission, nonetheless, it was a great trip to the side of Singapore that got me in a very calm state of mind as it was an extremely rare sight here that you don't get to see any vertical buildings within the proximal radius. It almost felt that I was out on one of those bus rides in Malaysia where you see nothing except road and trees. Bliss. Thus, I concluded that you can find some surprises here and there in Singapore too. Amazing stuff.

The result of the photoshoot can be acquired from here.

Saturday saw another public display of the glorious cacophonies of Meza Virs, this time at the Esplanade Outdoor Performing area, under the Baybeats 2009 Final Auditions. Unlike the one I attended at the Hereen which I was alone, a group of us went there together this time round, thanks to my new friends from the local metal music community from Facebook. Of which, I am extremely grateful for, since it has been years and years of hiatus in the local metal scene for me. Anyway, Meza Virs permeated the air of Esplanade and the Singapore bay with awesomeness, needless to say. Although their slot lasted less than a grand total of 15 minutes, I thoroughly enjoyed every cell and pore of myself whilst me and my newfound friends lodged ourselves at the metal barricade between the stage and the audience area, and headbanged with pride and joy. It is a real joy to headbang in public to good live music and to do it together with a group of friends. Almost a privilege. A sheer luxury. I only wished the female vocals microphone's volume was higher since her part wasn't really audible which diluted the performance slightly. Nonetheless, I really wish Meza Virs would make it to the actual Baybeats itself, and that I am rather certain of. It is about time to raise up that Singaporean metal flag high in the Singaporean skies and unleash the prowess! After the performance, I heard other audience saying the headbanging was very neat as we all did it in perfect synchronization. Haha! Well of course! That is what metal is about; beauty in chaos!

All Hail.

Sunday saw the return to the Lim Chu Kang area as I felt very much compelled to explore the place fully instead of just observing from far. This time round, accompained by Kafoosh instead, equipped with a camera, a deck of cards and a tripod and some determination to disregard the mosquitoes' presence, filming was done instead of photo-taking. The results of our endeavours are as follows;

Kafoosh's edition:

My edition:

Very fruitful!

Sunday ended with a late night outing with my sister, which is a rare one due to her unflinching schedule. Bumped into Cedric (the frontman) from the metal band (Meza Virs) I saw on Saturday, pleasant to have met him by accident and told him the performance was top notch. Played Left 4 Dead for around 2 hours until 1am at Serangoon Gardens, and had some prata and Teh Tarik and listened to my sister and her friends talk about music while I felt like complete idiot.

And, today, in a spur of avoiding ennui having to stare at the laptop screen all day, I convinced myself out of the house by 10am which is an hefty accomplishment considering I usually get up around noon during holidays. Went to watch Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino at the new cinema at new Bugis mall - Iluma, which led me to my first experience of watching a movie entirely alone and the subsequent feeling that I own the damn place which was very much regal. I then entertained the thought of the possbility of having such a cinema in my own house, that must have been hellishly luxurious. I got very comfortable until the point of placing my feet up on the seat and sitting cross legged. One word suffices the experience, which will confuse non-Singaporeans, but I am going to say it anyway - shiok. The film itself was alright, it just lacked the subtle quality that I was accustomed to as a film watcher, with the plot being rather explicit and obvious. Nonetheless, the final showdown was rather tight.

After the movie, I decided to head to the bookshop I found out at Facebook called GOHD Books at Serangoon Road, since their email at Facebook seemed to have me interested:

"Hey all! I've decided to let anyone rent the attic space during the day, if you need somewhere very, very, quiet to write, draw, meditate or conduct unspeakable activities. It goes at $5 per hour or $30 for the whole day, until the shop closes. You get free instant coffee/tea, too.

Also, I finally made a website I'm VERY satisfied with, and no one's allowed to comment on the design. It's www.gohd.com.sg.

By the way, occult activities are NOT allowed in the attic; there was once a rumour of a ghost up there, and we've verified that THERE IS NO GHOST, so calm down people. We won't want to check for ghosts AGAIN.

Anyone who wishes for a secluded place to write, draw, meditate, etc etc, can use our very, very, very quiet
attic space for $5 per hour or $30 a day. However, the attic may collapse if any more than 4 people go in at a time, so enter at your own risk! "

~ GOHD Books


Indeed, the attic is so fragile, I could feel the floorboards beneath my feet pressing down as I stepped on it, and the steps leading up to the attic are heinous. The shopkeeper (Deyana) said, "Live dangerously!" when I mentioned the steps were heinous. Haha! So Nietzschean, which made it so awesome. The collection there was impressive as well, stored alot of my favourite reads. Chatted with the Deyana for abit about favourite reads and I am very glad to find that she likes Nietzsche as well, although to a less fervent degree than myself and that we both loved the works of Camus and Keroauc. Amazing. I would definitely head back there again, to use the dangerous and very quiet attic to conduct unspeakable acts and to overcome that heinous flight of steps. Very cool place indeed, if I were to feel an onslaught of mental drought coming my way or in severe lack of inspiration, I will head there to introduce myself to new authors. I have no idea what GOHD stands for though.
Friday, March 20, 2009
  Updates: Technological advancements, fiends and Nightmarred & Dreamscarred
I realised I have not spoken about my recent acquisition of an iPod Classic, replacing my 3 year old Sony Network Music Player. I am most pleased with the new purchase despite it's slightly expensive, not only does the iPod hails a behemoth storage size of 120GB, the battery life is immensely good. I have only charged it once and it is still running in the "green" area after a week's worth of regular usage. This made my Sony Network player look like a contemporary torture device in cruel disguise, complete with rapidly deteriorating battery lifespan, user-unfriendly music transfer programme, an ugly B&W interface, and most of all, a miniscule space of 6GB. Now, I can comfortably throw in my entire music library which now amasses to nearly 11GB, movies and card flourishing videos and magic performances videos and still be baffled at the amount of space remaining in this lean mean machine. The only issue is that iPod's sound quality isn't as powerful as Sony's. But hell, one can't have all the "plus" factors together. =)

And, I went out with new f(r)iends, who happened to be listeners of my favourite music genre - Robin, Hong Rui and Prab Nathan, yesterday, on a movie outing and a chill-out session. Went to watch Detroit Metal City which proved to be rather no-brainer and laugh yourself silly show. Nonetheless, it was remotely heart-warming to see metal openly displayed and blared on the cinema speakers. Metal-related jokes were flunged left, right and centre onto the suspecting herds of non-metal listening mortals, of course, they do not get it and I knew they only pretended to laugh mildy and only awaited to see the ''cute-pop" portions. Ah wells. I did enjoyed the way the DMC fans expressed their maniacal devotion to DMC, hilarious. And, of course, I enjoyed myself equally with the new friends, for it has been, easily, years since I went out with proper metal-listening people and able to talk about metal music openly and freely. It was a good feeling. Very good, in fact. Regardless of the fact we listen to different sub-genres in metal, with me specialising in black and viking/folk metal. Haha! Good time yesterday, we had, new friends! Let's hope we can meet up again soon and it will be the start of a beautiful friendship. =D

Now, the less (or more, depends on your perception) rosy side of the blog post. I was mercilessly kept captive in Lord Morpheus Sandman's realm for nearly 10 hours last night where he generously bestowed me with yet another installment of nightmarred and dreamscarred episodes. Great. So this one started abruptly with a scene with me as a third person or voyeur, if you were to use a proper term. In this scene, there was this canine (I am not using the word - "dog", for "dog" conjures up the most heartwarming and friendly images in the human brain) which was largely blood-stained on his white fur. This canine was ripping the fuck out of a person's arm and chest cavity, adding more blood stains onto his already reddened coat of fur. This canine wasn't showing signs of any relent as he mawed at the poor dude's body. Strangely, the dude was as docile as a doormat amidst the attack. Until the poor dude was ripped to the level of the bone, did the canine started to show less enthusiasm. Just like how a typical Singaporean would behave, I was feeling very "kay-po" and I followed the canine after it left the poor dude alone. Number 1 Mind-fuckage: The canine transformed into a very pale looking boy that was hardly 10 years old, he was scantly dressed but he was, like his previous incarnation as a canine, blood-stained. This thing already made me go like "Du Reischt So Gut!" in the dream. So I followed the boy, and he led me into a dark alley. Number 2 Mind-fuckage: The boy jumped into a cavity in the one of the walls and then subsequently the wall closes up and the wall was made complete again. What the fuck?! The boy fused together as one with the wall?! Fuck yes, he did.

This whole thing could be used to write a damn novel or a screenplay for a movie. Damn. I love my dreams.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
  Short but definitely sweet
Today saw the public performance of a local gothic/extreme metal band by the name of Meza Virs at a very mainstream mall of Hereen. Thrilled, indubitably, by the fact that my favourite music genre will be publicly showcased, I ensured my attendance was made mandatory.

It was just very heartwarming once again to hear metal music being played with such indigantly loud and pride-laded volume at such a public place. The last time I had this experience was at the Rudra's Esplanade showcase in 2006, which was another very fulfilling performance, needless to say. To see the metal-listeners standing around, their souls proud of their musical inklings despite the glaring fact that the avenues for metal music expression here in Singapore would have severely deprived them of a healthy rate of outlet in this fashion. It's a good sight, just to see them standing around, awaiting the show, albeit knowing it'd probably not last very long. Even though we do not converse alot with each different groups of metal-listeners, we know, deep down inside, there's a connection and once the music is unleashed, the headbanging will be in perfect unison, the passion will be burning with equal intensity, our souls or psyches will be soaring high above and relishing every second of the cacophonies of the thing we all so relentlessly adore that is aptly called "Metal Music".

Just 3 short songs; 15 minutes is enough to leave us entirely satisfied. 15 minutes was definitely enough to convince me with great ease that this was better than almost the whole season of Live 'N' Loaded.

No Live 'N' Loaded luck for local metal acts? No problem. Some things are better left for the enjoyment of certain few who knows how to. =)The calm before the tempest
Cedric, the frontman, has a lean mean coat. Damn.

Saturday, March 07, 2009
  Paradise Regained; and Watchmen
So, my month long of internship is finally over and now I will no longer need to conjure very unsustainable thoughts at work to divert my attention away from the unceasing depressing sight of old fogey patients. And, most of all, at least I can stop obligating people to sign forms for me. Haha.

Anyway! To mark the regain of Paradise, I went to watch Watchmen with fellow card wielders, Leon and Kenneth and his friend with a very interesting name called Stick. Having sailed through the actual graphic novel prior to the movie viewing, I have to say I enjoyed myself more from reading the novel than the film. The characters exhibited themselves more effectively and intensly in the novel than the film, I guess, with such a morose and brooding air around this graphic novel/story, words on a page can convey better than a transient span of seconds or minutes of sequences on the screen. I was just very much blown away by the graphic novel when I finished it, intellectually, emotionally, very rare for me to even blown away slightly in the first place. I don't really care for the slow-motion emphasis of certain scenes or the auto-morphing Rorschach mask or the blue nakedness of Dr. Manhattan.

I mean, the whole thing was so multi-layered and heavy in content and rich in substance. And, yet holds that significant amount of truth about our society.

Much to my dismay, Mr. Egyptian A. Viedt was touted to be the Ubermensch of the whole gang, with his half haphazard manner of functioning. Looks like Nietzsche is once again quite misunderstood, as usual. Haha. Sigh, Nietzsche will have to roll in his grave, again. Nonetheless, I will have to take it that the writer chose to use a symbolism of mass destruction of the city dwellers as the Overcoming of the Last Man, for the era of Zarathrustra to arrive.

Next, Dr. Manhattan, this detached individual is just a tortured soul who seeks the human touch which is once and again denied. He acutely reminds me of the ideal man that Plato expounded, who uses reason as a sole faculty and continually deny himself of any desire or joy, such is a callous scientific outlook. Another tortured soul is, who other than, Rorschach? A staunch moral absolutist whose childhood failed and backfired at him, a classical serial killer case study. Deeply confused person and who, in fact, love to end his own life than to suffer living on Earth. An misanthrope. Both Dr. Manhattan and Rorschach are victims of Frued's Psychoanalysis. Unable to fix their inner conflict, they chose exile and death as their conclusions.

Lastly, the Comedian was just an anarchist and quasi-nihilist, who, in true fact, at least, in my interpretation, unable to face the harsh reality and tries very hard to brush everything off as a joke. A Stoic, I would say, if I am in a nerdy mood, haha.

So much to digest, to analyse. And, I am not even starting on the relatively normal mortals - Night Owl and the Silk Spectres.

I read an article about Watchmen and its relation to Philosophy, it is said Watchmen is fodder for philosophers.

Now, I fully agree.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
  This arid mindscape
This is an utter blasphemy. I have only entered something into this place once in the whole of February.

Something is lacking within me. The drive to express myself that I used to possess so fervently and the subsequent falling into the cesspool of swamp-like ennui. Perhaps, ever since when I started to use an one-liner updating plus conversing tool called Twitter of which was the depository place for most of my thoughts and emotions, I could no longer find the energy into a full length discourse. =\ Not too good.

I will attempt to revert back again.

So, how are things treating me recently?

Taking into consideration that I am rather incapacitated by a thing called clinical attachment for the past 3 weeks, I think you can deduce the level of my current temperament fairly easily. It is very emotionally and spiritually taxing to commit that amount of time and energy into a thing that one hasn't had original intentions to venture into. As the timeline drags further into this unexpected direction, the more intense and acute did I felt the sense of alienation and inhumanity gnawing at the depths of my insides. Can't say I am depressed. I am just ... tired, of not getting what I yearn for. I long to feel wholesomely inspired, like how I did when I was studying GP or Economics back at JC. Is a place to study Humanities and Social Sciences so difficult? The more I delve, the more I feel inhumane. The only time I can feel somewhat adequate in my clinical attachment is when I introspect on the basis of human suffering and pain when I looked upon patients, that suspending quality of introspective reverie. That few minutes. So incredibly precious.

Deriving from my sparse moments of precious reveries, I thought of way *albeit an rough idea at the current stage* to analyse or account for the essence of existence. And, I am not even sure if it's something remotely new. Anyway!

We do all have good and bad times, if I were to use those 2 very vague and discriminating terms, which most people would dictate their outlook on life by a very narrow and misguided view of the number of good(s) and bad(s) they have experienced. Quick to judge, so to speak. In my "idea", I think the number of good(s) and bad(s) meant completely nothing. Abitrary. Devoid of any value. I hope you can deduce that the abitrary factor will lead you to the fact that I subscribe to no dieism. =) So, in life, the "good" and "bad" will come and slot themselves in here and there, until there is equal amount of "good" and "bad". When that happens, everything gets cancelled out, the cessation of life occurs.

Many would say this is too deeply nihilistic. I agree and acknowledge.

I don't know, some part of me says this is a very abstract doctrine that cannot be measured out, some part of me says "So, Ling, since life is nothing with no such thing called "good" and "bad", so how are we supposed to live, and what are we living for?"

Deeply depressing. And, disturbing.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I could no longer sift through the morass within my depths and write something sustainable.

This is a crisis.

I need inspiration and I shall not be engulfed by a malaise of expressive ennui.

It really scares me that my heart could no longer feel and my mind could no longer provide the stimulus to write. It is a threatening plague, a cancerous malady. Inhumanity. Or rather, the opposite, considering how majority of humanity lacks a certain introspective quality, haha. Meh.

The above leads me inevitably to wonder how working adults' minds function. So bland, without flavour, without style, no flair, plagued with ennui.

I read bad English at my current location of hospital internship whose name I shall not bear to put out for it will put a bad light on the hospital. Bad, I mean, really atrocious. Do they even check the red line that appears beneath the word on the Word Processor? It disturbs me with tremendous quantity that those adults are getting paid that much with such a terrible level of linguistic command. Nevermind little gritty grammatical errors, but glaring spelling mistakes that even a Primary 3 kid could discern? I could only be amazed and disgusted at the same moment.

For example "holiday season that are sorts after". Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Enough said.

I cannot imagine my 20 to 40 years of probable length of working life to be surrounded by such incoherent people. That is pure degrading. My guess is that I would have performed hara kiri on myself by the end of the first month, if I am lucky.

Must think of ways to dodge such an arid land of unceasing dullness and salvage the scant amount of sanity that is left in me.

On other news, some pictures of my new 5 megapixel-equipped handphone camera! Which I am very pleased with as I can go trigger happy with a decent enough quality.
There are some optimism and joy left in such a depressing and disgusting modern human life after all, eh?

I foresee myself reading alot of Nietzsche when I am flung into the uninspiring working world if I am going to commit to this field of career. For, I acutely require the lofty and mighty quality of the Nietzschean spirit to surround myself with if I want to avoid the hara kiri.

And, I am not even starting on my discourse on my love-life...

Thursday, January 29, 2009
  Black Metal meets the runway and an unrelated incident of gardening and baking

Enough said.

Black Metal Gardening
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The human destiny is forever limited by the idiocy of bureaucracy and the excesses of social expectations. - LingNemesis, 2007 C.E.

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Metal-Listener. Card Flourisher. Aspiring Philosopher. Selective Mugger. Ubermensch-to-be. Inspired by Dharma. Nihilist. The Almost Misanthrope. Yogini. Film Enthusiast. Into everything Occult and the Esotercism. Anti-Pretentious Social Situations. Anti-Religion. Anti-Normal. Observer of This Fucked-Up World. Autodidact. Philomath. Capricorn Cusp Aquarius. Leo Ascendent. Taurus Moon Sign. Economic Left/Right: -1.88 Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -2.05.

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