Waiting with Scattered Thoughts
I'm standing outside, searching the sky for inspiration. I've been doing this quite frequently for the past few months, ever since Mars decided to come closer to earth. I'm not really too sure what I'm looking for, what to expect and whether or not I'll achieve anything outside of catching the common flu.
I'm hiding behind the house, killing myself with cigarettes and fighting an endless war between heart and mind. Some nights I feel like my indecisiveness is cowardly and stupid; others, brave and rational. Tonight, like most, I will sit on the fence. Right now, I feel safer when my feet aren't on the ground - I don't know where they will take me and afraid of where they may or may not.
I'm clutching my mobile within my pocket, waiting for a call. It's so much easier talking truths to others than to yourself. Maybe one day I'll experience a dream scene, where God's name will appear on the caller ID. I will be enlightened, set free and be able to add his name on my contact list. I will send him a MMS - a photo of me with a smile, a tear and a thank you sign. Maybe he has called before, using a friend's phone.
I'm hiding behind the shadows, ashamed of what my parents would think if they saw what I was doing. It's sad to realise that I'll never be able to live up to great expectations, though I know that's a great gift in itself. Tonight I will deftly maneuver through the sensor lights, with guilt trailing behind in the dark. Perhaps one day I will experience serendipity, accidentally trigger the lights by my parents' balcony, exposing the path I must walk. When I walk, I want to see them smile like the day I was born.
I'm looking forward to the beginning of a dreamy sleep. I am calm and at one with myself whilst tangling with you in between the sheets. The playful struggle for bed territory and exchanged smiles are memories that will forever kiss me good night. Now, reality is blurred - I wish I could see your face wake next to mine so I know that my moments of happiness weren't just a dream.
I'm walking back home. I look up to the sky with eyes to the stars.
Look at the stars
Don't they remind you
Just how feeble
We are
Split Screen Sadness
All you need is love that'll last cause
We had a love but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters
And it stings when it's nobody's fault
Cause there's nothing to blame
At the drop of your name, it's only the air you took
And the breath you left
So maybe I'll sleep inside my coat and
Wait on the porch til you come back home, alright
I can't find the fight
So I'll check the weather wherever you are
Cause I wanna know if you can see the stars tonight
Might be my only right
We share the sadness
Split screen sadness
All you need is love that'll last cause
We had a love but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters
And it stings when it's nobody's fault
Cause there's nothing to blame
At the drop of your name, it's only the air you took
And the breath you left
So maybe I'll sleep inside my coat and
Wait on the porch til you come back home, alright
I can't find the fight
So I'll check the weather wherever you are
Cause I wanna know if you can see the stars tonight
Might be my only right
We share the sadness
Split screen sadness
Secret Agent
The room was bare. A frayed straw mat covered most of the dirt floor. A window with a patched fly screen allowed sunlight to enter. The pale blue walls were scarred and peeled, exposing a dark, rotten wood. Three children were on the mat, seated as if they were participants in a board meeting on a triangular table. They were communicating in a way only children can understand - a unique mix of body language and developing verbal skills. Their meeting was soon adjourned by their mother. Lunch was ready. Two of the kids hurried off, running out of the room, the third followed using his arms to walk - he had no legs.
This was a scene from a documentary on SBS last night. I wish I had paid more attention to the facts but I could only come away with two main points:
1. During the Vietnam War 20 million gallons of a chemical known as Agent Orange was used, affecting an estimated 10-15% of southern Vietnam. Since then, there has been a significant increase in a myriad of diseases that were once uncommon in the region.
2. Recently the American Government and its Medical Board agreed to offer compensation to American Vietnam War Veterans who suffered certain diseases attributed to exposure to Agent Orange and other herbicide.
Now, three things really piss me off about this:
1. There are probably more diseases caused by Agent Orange than the Government choose to recognise.
2. They only consider those exposed to the chemical. What about the Vietnamese people who came into contact with this stuff and have had to live with its contaminating effects on their environment for the past 30 years?
3. The American Government has not offered to compensate, fund studies for, or, even apologise to the Vietnamese. Without funding, the Vietnamese cannot carry out medical research to prove their right to compensation.
It's just so wrong. I wish I could do something about this, aside from getting worked up.
The room was bare. A frayed straw mat covered most of the dirt floor. A window with a patched fly screen allowed sunlight to enter. The pale blue walls were scarred and peeled, exposing a dark, rotten wood. Three children were on the mat, seated as if they were participants in a board meeting on a triangular table. They were communicating in a way only children can understand - a unique mix of body language and developing verbal skills. Their meeting was soon adjourned by their mother. Lunch was ready. Two of the kids hurried off, running out of the room, the third followed using his arms to walk - he had no legs.
This was a scene from a documentary on SBS last night. I wish I had paid more attention to the facts but I could only come away with two main points:
1. During the Vietnam War 20 million gallons of a chemical known as Agent Orange was used, affecting an estimated 10-15% of southern Vietnam. Since then, there has been a significant increase in a myriad of diseases that were once uncommon in the region.
2. Recently the American Government and its Medical Board agreed to offer compensation to American Vietnam War Veterans who suffered certain diseases attributed to exposure to Agent Orange and other herbicide.
Now, three things really piss me off about this:
1. There are probably more diseases caused by Agent Orange than the Government choose to recognise.
2. They only consider those exposed to the chemical. What about the Vietnamese people who came into contact with this stuff and have had to live with its contaminating effects on their environment for the past 30 years?
3. The American Government has not offered to compensate, fund studies for, or, even apologise to the Vietnamese. Without funding, the Vietnamese cannot carry out medical research to prove their right to compensation.
It's just so wrong. I wish I could do something about this, aside from getting worked up.
2 Cents And A Blind Eye
I tuned into the news the other night, prompted by a guilty feeling of not keeping a 'real' perspective of the greater world...
It seems like nothing has changed at all - headlines: War on Terrorism, Sexed-up (hahaha) documents on WMD, Amrozi, and a licence plate fetching the same price as Phil and Amity's we-think-it-will-sell-for-$900,000 (errr - try $640,000) Bondi apartment.
But what really struck me was the story on the continuing war between the Israelis and Palestinians. It's sad to see that the media portraying Arafat as the sole "obstruction to the road map to peace" process, when it's clear that Bush and Sharon are both just as hard headed. Not to mention the fact that it has nothing to do with America, the Israeli's invaded Palestinian territory in the first place and Sharon had just finished off bombing Arafat's headquarters.
I guess, what's worse, is that none of these points were even mentioned in the story.
But that's ok, isn't it?
Sandra Sully looks trustworthy, a fine weekend is forecasted and Sport's Tonight is due in six minutes.
I tuned into the news the other night, prompted by a guilty feeling of not keeping a 'real' perspective of the greater world...
It seems like nothing has changed at all - headlines: War on Terrorism, Sexed-up (hahaha) documents on WMD, Amrozi, and a licence plate fetching the same price as Phil and Amity's we-think-it-will-sell-for-$900,000 (errr - try $640,000) Bondi apartment.
But what really struck me was the story on the continuing war between the Israelis and Palestinians. It's sad to see that the media portraying Arafat as the sole "obstruction to the road map to peace" process, when it's clear that Bush and Sharon are both just as hard headed. Not to mention the fact that it has nothing to do with America, the Israeli's invaded Palestinian territory in the first place and Sharon had just finished off bombing Arafat's headquarters.
I guess, what's worse, is that none of these points were even mentioned in the story.
But that's ok, isn't it?
Sandra Sully looks trustworthy, a fine weekend is forecasted and Sport's Tonight is due in six minutes.
I think, therefore I blog
Last night I had attended my first class in an introduction to philosophy. I'm not really sure whether this will be practical in any sense, but it's something that I've always had a vague interest in.
I hate to state the obvious, but it's just so much more satisfying and rewarding when you're studying something that you actually find interesting.
And it shits me that everything I have a keen interest in has no dollar profit involved with it.
Last night I had attended my first class in an introduction to philosophy. I'm not really sure whether this will be practical in any sense, but it's something that I've always had a vague interest in.
I hate to state the obvious, but it's just so much more satisfying and rewarding when you're studying something that you actually find interesting.
And it shits me that everything I have a keen interest in has no dollar profit involved with it.
Today, I Smile
I was at the crossroads last Saturday, faced with a beautiful morning, highway traffic, exit signs and a windshield covered with mysetrious debris. I was in a surprisingly good mood.
Maybe it was the weather, the driving, or the fact that I was alone - accompanied only by cigarettes, John Mayer, and the shrill sound of my own voice singing along.
Maybe it was the destination that excited me and the potential to turn a few strangers into friends.
Maybe it was the fact that this weekend has been the first in a long while where I have actually been out of town, or at least felt like I was doing something worthwhile.
Maybe this will be the start of something new in my life.
Maybe it's just another standout day in an otherwise mundane life.
I was at the crossroads last Saturday, faced with a beautiful morning, highway traffic, exit signs and a windshield covered with mysetrious debris. I was in a surprisingly good mood.
Maybe it was the weather, the driving, or the fact that I was alone - accompanied only by cigarettes, John Mayer, and the shrill sound of my own voice singing along.
Maybe it was the destination that excited me and the potential to turn a few strangers into friends.
Maybe it was the fact that this weekend has been the first in a long while where I have actually been out of town, or at least felt like I was doing something worthwhile.
Maybe this will be the start of something new in my life.
Maybe it's just another standout day in an otherwise mundane life.
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