Really sian right now. Cannot start my engine today. Have a poetry response essay to write. Don't feel like starting. But I've still some more work to do. And this poetry response is the one thing that I should do right now.

Was just reading Leonard Cohen's Book of Longing during lunch.

Blessed be the One
Who has sweetened
My Argument

Yeahhh. I cannot help but wonder at the futility of life. Seriously. I'm very happy with my life. But there are always going to be moments to wonder about that. Worst still, if one has to stay on in some place that really isn't very good for one's 'growth'.

See, the argument is always there. We just need someone to sweeten it.

I'm honestly happy lar. But there is beauty in coming across some work of art that inspires us and tell us what is wrong, and what could be better. That life is sometimes sad, but we have always managed to live through it. And the things we do for ourselves and other people and yada yada. I'm honestly happy because I have people to return to to be myself. Even if I think when I start work, the idea of 'being myself' will get kind of murky perhaps. But then, I may finally arrive at a 'better' self after all that. These are all just hypothetical discussions lar. Haha.

At the end of Wong Kar Wai's Happy Together, Tony Leung's character says he finally understand why Chang Chen's character can roam about freely. "Because he always has a place to return to" And, when Chang Chen's character has arrived at this scenic place which is his destination, he thinks to himself that he suddenly just feels like going back home. Nice scenes, eh.

The argument is always there. This conflict of what is, and what could possibly be. I am reminded of a line from a song, "How can a wave possibly be?" Bill Callahan's Jim Cain. I have grown very attached to this song, despite thinking initially that the singer's voice doesn't seem to fit the song. Found this song on a computer in my school's edit suites. I like stealing some unknown people's songs from the computer.

Backtracking about what I said.. There is beauty in coming across some work of art that inspires us and tell us what is wrong, and what could be better.. Works of art that tell us what is wrong or sad or whatever, inspire us to action.. Inspire us to really live, you know.. Inspire us about how we live.. In my Lit elective class, I'm doing Jane Eyre. I haven't read it. But I have a feeling I'll choose to read this book. Cuz it seems like she's a realist, frustrated with her real circumstances, but she is an inspired character that "does not want tranquility, and wants action".. Yet, she is not like her friend.. Who is more transcendent.. And yet this friend is more idealistic than realistic.. And this friend gives up on changing her real life situation.. Believing that life is more than the physical body.. o_o This friend dies in the novel, of course.

So people who give up on changing their life situation.. Are not always as wise as they think they are.. Even if you can't do much about it.. You let yourself down if you don't even want to face the reality of the situation.. Is it really of no help? To know things just as they are? However dark things are. If you refuse to know, I don't see how it is really any better.. Like J K Rowling says.. People who refuse to be imaginative.. See their own 'ghosts' too.. And they have no way of resisting the darkness. So to speak.. They have no way of knowing what it means to try and bring some light to darkness..

My post has dragged!

The argument is always there. I will never stop emoting when I write. But this is not the face of things I want to present to the 'world'. That is not the face of an artist. That is not what someone who wants to make some sense out of the world sets out to do. A lasting sense of life is not to be made through moping about it, or worse, bitching about it. Something like that. Because bouts of moping about life are just going to repeat themselves. They will fade away. Those are not the things that last. They have absolutely no point to them. They're just empty bags of wind. Kind of like farts. That is their only place in the world. Lol.

After all, there is no way of moping better than some other person can, is there? It's all the same. Unless one mopes like House MD, perhaps.

Just what do you see and want to take away with you in this world? (Right. Sounds depressing. Not meant that way) What do you take from it? What is your take? Is it only about all the shit that the world hands you? Or are you going to make it about how you take the shit that the world hands you?

LOL.

Right. So.

Poetry response. Bye.

---
Jim Cain
Song
by Bill Callahan

I started out in search of ordinary things
How much of a tree bends in the wind
I started telling the story without knowing the end

I used to be darker, then I got lighter, then I got dark again
Something to be seen was passing over and over me
Well it seemed like the routine case at first
With the death of the shadow came a lightness of verse
But the darkest of nights, in truth, still dazzles
And I wore myself until I'm frazzled

I ended up in search of ordinary things
Like how can a wave possibly be?
I started running, and the concrete turned to sand
I started running, and things didn't pan out as planned

In case things go poorly and I not return
Remember the good things I've done
In case things go poorly and I not return
Remember the good things I've done
Done me in