THE LIVING PINÃTA: February 2012

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Life, Personified.

Sometimes, this shadowy figure: dark, mysterious, a little ominous,

hands you a box wrapped up so tight you could never quite figure out how to tackle its bindings.

That is, up until the moment someone somewhere says the right words, at the right moment, asking the right question, provoking the right answer.

A little something is revealed at that exact moment.

You shoot sky-high, to the zenith of your awareness in one crashing second.

You no longer have to try breaking that stupid box!

But, as with any other form of euphoria,

what goes up must come down.

After some time your revelation is meaningless -

It can no longer apply to the changes happening all around you.

This shadowy figure is relentless.

Another box is handed to you.

For now, it's frustration, puzzlement, effortful attempts

all. over. again.

Sigh, you can never have your fun.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Oh my god, this brain needs to shut down. I am in dire need of some shut eye but nope!...forcing myself awake those last few minutes to finish watching the Running Men do their funny running things really did it for me! Now it's one sleepless night in Melbourne and unfortunately there isn't anything remotely romantic to at least make it worthwhile (har, har).

So..now, a story.

(Based on a true story)

Something happened to a particular window. This window...it's been so abused by blistering winds, hurt by harsh sunlight, worn down by vicious winter snow...yet it's always kept itself slammed bravely open amidst and against the cruel, cruel elements. However, slowly and surely, as would any other window, this particular window started losing its shape; its colour started waning. It's lost its vigour -- it's lost the fight. It started closing in...closing in...closing in...until one day it vowed never to open again.

Now! After months of solitude, closed off from the world, lo and behold, a warm and fuzzy feeling returns to this particular window! O, the man of the house has returned! His giant chopsticks for fingers press its wooden panes open, once again uniting it with the cruel, cruel elements that have treated it so harshly. The warm and fuzzy feeling does not go away. The man's hands bring forth such nostalgia, such love that the window feels it can conquer anything and everything thrown at it. Bring it on, wind, sun, and snow! Nothing can stop it now!

Alas, the brevity of it all is heartbreaking. The tender loving care from those giant chopsticks for fingers never lasted. The man of the house has returned and has left, once again. What was this poor window to do? Time and time again, it's left to brave the harshness of reality all on its own. "ALL BY MYSELFFFFF, DON'T WANNA BEEEE", it sings in mute. No vocal cords to voice its discontent. No eyes, no tear glands to shed pearls of sadness. This window started closing in...closing in...closing in...until one day it vowed never to open. Ever again.

Friday, February 17, 2012

The Narrative & the Narrator

Things have pretty much settled into a routine -- a very terrible routine of skipping lectures, getting to prac an hour late, getting to everything in general at least 5 minutes behind the appointed time. But I must say I'm loving every second of it! It's as if, after the whole clinical debacle (okay, maybe not so much a debacle) last Semester, I've regained my autonomy in all things academic! Nothing's forcing me out of bed at 6 am just cause I have to make it to the hospital on time, nothing's stopping me from just packing up to LEAAVE when I'm dead bored and feeling intellectually unstimulated (hah, hah). And nothing's forcing me not to just skip this 3 hour lecture I'm supposed to be attending. Right now. At this exact moment. Smiley face.

In the house of Kew it's not as drastic a change as I'd anticipated over the weeks. I think that's the best way to sum it up. Well, of course apart from the fact that the sister and the cousin aren't here at all, I guess the place isn't as eerily quiet and as cold as I thought it'd be. Really. That's what I was expecting. But perhaps the cousin's presence does make a huge difference -- she's always the one in the living room, she's always the one in the kitchen...noises from the TV, the pots and pans fill the void, in a way. Perhaps when she leaves, everything will change. Again.

I think it's sort of a nice turnover, if you will. Let me explain. I have always, and I mean always, been the baby of the family. I'm the youngest of our cosy family of 6, and, for crying out loud, the youngest in the whole friggin generation. I guess it's when you've always been taken care of and babied, in a way, you tend to settle into that role without even realizing it. It's like sinking into a comfortable dependency like the crater your butt makes on the couch. It leaves an imprint, doesn't it? It becomes your favourite spot. You don't wanna leave it. But, alas, one day you get too bloody fat you can't help yourself, you have to get up. It's quite refreshing, I must say...being the elder one. The responsible one -- though that's really still to come. In time, people. In time. I'm taking baby steps here (not a pun!).

Alright, on to other things. Like..Japan! Okay, to be honest sometimes I wish people would stop asking me how I found Japan. I end up repeating the same reply over and over again as if rehearsed. It was amazing - the food's great, the people's great, the place is great. Short and sweet. Although, it takes a certain amount of self-control to not elaborate further -- e.g. the food's so great that whatever Italian, Korean, Angmoh, Japanese food you can ever find anywhere else in the world (okay, maybe I really just mean Melbourne) can never be on par with what the Japanese can come up with. NEVER. My goodness do I sound annoying or what. It's hard! It takes some restraint not to let the account of my experience in Japan become a certified brag! Eh hem...maybe I should let the pictures do the talking. Self-explanatory awesomeness.

OSAKA