The Mind Is A Dangerous Place

Things that should boggle the mind but do not

Saturday, March 13, 2004

The boy and the end of the world
Part 1: What an Adventure this would be


There once was a boy called Tim. He was of eight years, a red-haired, gangly boy assorted with the awkward elbows and sniffling nose that most boys his tender age had. He liked collecting Liverpool soccer star stickers, though he did not know why they hardly won. He also loved to pick up the odd-looking pebble on the ground and kept these in a small pail in the back of his small bedroom. Finally, he loved asking questions. Why was the sky blue? Why did cats have nine lives? How do the birds and bees do it? These questions he asked both amused and irritated his teachers and parents and peers. They would say, "Tim, you'll find out one day," and pat him on the head, give him a long look and Tim knew he should not ask anymore. But he always asked again later.

One day, a Friday it was actually, Tim was in his schoolroom, listening to Mr Garthy explain about the wonders of the universe, the sun, the planets, stars, moons and all that. It really was rather fascinating. So was Susie Williams sitting in front of him, she with her red curls and deep green eyes, but that's a story for later. Tim loved the lesson he was having, and he soaked up all the information about the solar system, the nine planets and how round the Earth was. That was where his habit kicked in again. He put up his hand.

Mr Garthy was ready for Tim's daily questions. "Yes Tim?" he pointed.

"Sir? Is there an end to the world? Or if that's bad english, an end of the world? What's over there?" Tim asked rather matter-of-factly.

Mr Garthy laughed, and laughed and laughed until his face was tomato red in their seasons. The whole class sniggered, giggled and chortled along. Mr Garthy finally calmed down and bellowed, "The end of the world? My dear boy! There is no end of the world! The Earth is round, one end links to the other, like a ring. There is no end!" He gave a finishing grin and continued on with the suns, moons and stars. Tim listened half-heartedly as being ridiculed did not bode well with any boy wishing not to look the fool in front of Susie Williams.

When class ended, everybody went for lunch in the canteen. There, Tim asked all his friends, teachers and even the canteen chef if there was an end to the world. His friends laughed in his face and called him a fool, his teachers patted him on the head and assured him the obvious. Only the canteen chef ventured some information.

"You don't want to find the end lad," she said, a heavy-weighted lady but jolly as per the stereotype, "The end is not a place for someone as young as you. It is full of despair, depression, death, temptation. It is the home of the devil, of fallen angels cast down for defying our Father, of the demons that lurk under the beds and in the cupboards. It is not a place for mortals, much less a boy." She would say no more.

Tim was intrigued, perturbed and tempted all at the same time. He needed to know more about the end of the world. He needed to find out where it was and why it was shunned by everybody. He found himself in the library an hour later sitting by a computer. He was surfing the internet for information. He was sure he could get some good ones there. Tim typed in "The end of the world" in the search engine provided and clicked "Go". It took him 3.714656 seconds to get fifty thousand sites. That was the easy part, he supposed. Now he had to find one that was actually related to what he was looking for. Hours passed by and it was almost time for the library to close. Tim had discarded hundreds of useless links and was lamenting on how he would not get his answer after all. Just then, one of the few thousand links caught his eye. It was a link to the site "The site of the book of the dead". Tim clicked on it and a black, rather poorly-done webpage popped out. It had pictures of skeletons and ghosts and zombies with half-eaten brains all over. He scanned through the site and found a small section on the end of the world. He highlighted it for better reading and silently read.

Follow the white road,
tread past the fox of quick slyness,
through (silently) the forest of whispers,
into the cave of fulfilled slumber
and under the rainbow.
There, the end of the world waits,
the crevice of eternal eternals,
BE THERE OR BE SQUARE

- The Book of the Dead Chapter Seven (Finding the end of the world made easy)


Beneath it was a small line of words saying: "Just go to Kensington Road near the old St Andrew's Church in Liverpool. First step's there." Tim laughed and was rather pleased at that time. He hurridly printed out the directions and stuffed the paper in his orange schoolbag before running home. At home, he asked his mother whether she knew where the end of the world was.

"The end of the world?" she had repeated while pouring some apple juice for him and the daily three shots of vodka for herself, "Is that what they teach you in school now?" She downed all three shots and went upstairs to cry again. Tim knew the conversation was at an end and went into his room. He had thought about asking his mother to drive him there but the state would not allow her to handle a vehicle after the last few incidents of drunk-driving. Tim had to think of something else and he did think... for two minutes, before deciding to go to the end of the world himself. It should not be hard, he reasoned as he took out a small brown suitcase, it was in Liverpool! He could go there and come back by Monday. He opened his ultra-super-extremely-super-very secret piggy bank and broke it. It had about fifty pounds
and sixty pence within. He put the money in his pocket. He packed in some sweaters for the cold, five extra shirts and pants to be safe, and plenty of undergarments. He stuffed in his favourite blanket and locked the suitcase. He scrawled a note that said: "Off to see the end of the world, will be back soon, Monday I guess," then, orange bag on his back and brown suitcase dragging along, Tim left the house for his trip.

He was so excited.

end of part 1, part 2 on its way

I write when I have stuff on my mind.... i should write more.

Thursday, March 11, 2004

Under the rainbow

"What's that Kerry? Why the hell did you buy that rubbish?"

It was Sunday. Kerry and her mother were at the nearby mall. Not for any shopping or any
of that frivilous stuff, no, Kerry was there to do something special. Her mother
said so. It was the "Miss Songbird Competition", where girls of ages ten to twelve
participate in the event of the year! Where you can be a star! Legal disclaimer and blah blah
blah.
Kerry was going to take part. Her mother said she could.

Kerry's mother had helped her get ready for it too. The exercises, jogging and swimming in
the hours of the morning before school were to "get her fit and healthy" her mother said.
There were singing lessons conducted by her mother and she sang "Somewhere over the
rainbow" accompanied on an old Yamaha piano beside their faded couch. They had to sell
most of the stuff when they're father died, but they had kept the piano. Her mother loved it.

"Sing with me now Kerry," she would say, lightly touching the keys of the instrument,
"Somewheeeeeeere over the raaaaainbow... come on Kerry, keep up keep up!" And Kerry
would sing, but not in the way her mother wanted her to. And then the beatings would start,
nothing serious, just the wooden ruler smacking on her arms, feet, buttocks. Or her hand,
quick as a snake, would slap her across the cheek, bring tears to her eyes before she even
realised it. It hurt sometimes, all the time, but it was for her own good. Kerry knew it was for
the best. Her mother said so. She was also under a 'diet' where she ate nothing but an apple
for breakfast and porridge with carrot bits for dinner. There was no lunch, not even in
school. Even though she was hungry then, she did not eat anything. Her mother had warned
her not to. She liked the apple in the morning because it was sweet but the porridge was
awful. Kerry hated the porridge but she had to eat it. She was just so hungry. Recently, she
realised her clothes were getting looser.

All that went on for two months. The exercising, the singing, the 'diet' and the beatings,
though the beatings did stop after she learnt the song inside out. Then one day, she returned
home from school to find a small parcel in her room. Her mother was sitting on her bed next
to it. She beamed when she saw Kerry and motioned for her to approach.

"Go on then. Open it!" her mother urged. Kerry was curious and tore open the package.
Inside, was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was fabulous! It was pink and had
curls all over. And the way it shimmered and shone! It was a delightful sight. Her mother
took out the dress and helped Kerry into it. Kerry looked at herself in the mirror. She
giggled and snickered and giggled once more. She was like a fairy! A pink fairy! She twirled
around and laughed even more. Her mom joined in the laughter and tickled her. It was fun.
They then had dinner and Kerry got slapped once because she wanted to have it with the
dress on. Her mother did not like that idea very much. But the pain soon passed and Kerry
was given a slice of watermelon for dessert after the porridge with the carrot bits inside.

And then, it was Sunday. And they were at the mall, and she was wearing the pink dress again. She was so pretty! She felt like the whole place was a dream. They entered the food court for a drink. It was very crowded and they could barely sit down. But they did, on a small two-seater table with milk stains on top.

"So many people, ridiculous ridiculous," Kerry's mother clucked. She took out a ten dollar note. "Honey, since it's your special day, you can go buy a drink by yourself. An orange juice, nothing else ok? All by yourself now! And remember to give me the change alright honey?"

Kerry had nodded and gave her mother a hug before leaving the table for orange juice. She lined up behind some people at the Chicken King outlet. The smell was good. Very good. Kerry felt her tummy rumble. She had her apple only four hours ago. But her excitement had made her hungry too.

"Can I help you there?" a boy in a chicken hat asked her.

"I er..." Kerry stuttered, nervous at all the attention.

"Yes?" the boy smiled, he was wearing braces. Kerry had to order orange juice. She knew she had to order only orange juice. But the food smelt so good. So good. Kerry ordered.

Her mother had screamed. "What's that Kerry? Why the hell did you buy that rubbish?"

"It's chicken mom! Only fried chicken! It's cheap! Less than five dollars! I was hungry! I was!" Kerry struggled to explain.

"Fried chicken will kill you! All that grease and oil and fat. They'll clog up your heart and you'll die! You'll die a fat bitch!" Her mother's hand snaked out and slapped her on the cheek. It stung hard. "You want to die a fat bitch Kerry! Do you?"

Slap. People were looking now. Her mother was in tears. She was going to cry too. She could feel the tears behind the eyes and she blinked hard. She would not cry. It was her special day.

"I've worked so hard to give you a good life, to redeem you!"

Slap.

"I put everything on the line for you, you can't do this to me you bitch! You slutty bitch!"

Slap. Kerry did not know what her mother was talking about, she just stood there silently. Her cheeks were now numbed from the slapping.

Then the punch came. Kerry's head snapped back and her lithe frame rammed onto another table. Her head collided with the table edge and the whole world went fuzzy. Her mother took her by the dress and slapped her again and again and again. She wanted to tell her mother to stop, that she would ruin the dress. But the words would not come. The tears fell.

She felt her head being grabbed and slammed onto another tabletop before hands came to pull her mother away from her. Kerry struggled weakly against the hands and screamed in her mind for the people to let her mother go but the world was getting darker and fuzzier. She felt sleepier and heavier and all sound began to fade...except for her mother's voice, which was singing and crying and screaming and singing again. She was singing "Somewhere over the rainbow", her voice wavering on the high notes. She was singing her name. Kerry thought of her dress and how ruined it had become and then somebody finally decided to switch off the light and sound and everything.




And that's it. All for you candz ;) Btw, watched Akira Hurosegawa's (spelling) last film Dreams. It's... weird, with a strong anti-destruction-of-world theme. And weird. But beautiful too. Colours never seemed to matter til now.

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

Blue

Never seen a blue sky
Yeah I can feel it reaching out
And moving closer
There's something about blue
Asked myself what it's all for
You know the funny thing about it
I couldn't answer
No I couldn't answer

Things have turned a deeper shade of blue
And images that might be real
May be illusion
Keep flashing off and on
Free
Wanna be free
Gonna be free
And move among the stars
You know they really aren't so far
Feels so free
Gotta know free
Please
Don't wake me from the dream
It's really everything it seemed
I'm so free
No black and white in the blue

Everything is clearer now
Life is just a dream you know
That's never ending
I'm ascending


Yoko Kanno


I just finished the Cowboy Bebop series and I am awed. Totally awed by the art, the direction, the visual imagery and the soul and heart dedicated in this work, this masterpiece. This totally blows most movies away and it is an anime.
Once again I swear by anime and conclude that with animation, one can truely show stories in settings so different, so unforgettable, that you forget that people are not real and feel for them. It has been a while since I felt for something. Very long while. I am PEP after all and the mask I own is mine and never giving. Too much useless info here, apologize.

See you space cowboy.

Monday, March 08, 2004

Zoom zoom zoom..... F1 cars race by, blowing up eardrums and frustrating cameramen.
The smell of gas, tyres and people.
Now am trying to study.. not going very well :)

Sunday, March 07, 2004

My feet feel as if they've walked a thousand leagues (how long is a league anywaes?) across unfriendly terrain. Damn you moomba, giant lobster and socializing. As guessed, popped by Moomba with frens, watched fireworks, danced a little samba (I really muz learn.. any takers?) and froze. Then to crown for Para Para, Boost juice and froze. And the walking... oh the walking. Must have stood for like 5 hours straight. Painful. So am tired.... anybody wanna give me a massage ;) Any takers? Anyone? cheh

If there's one thing I know about myself is how I treat pple. I give them full respect, regardless of how much I like them, though I like most pple. People who do not have the slightest thread of respect or even mocks that of others... well... I can't forgive that.

Point:
5 drunk Aussies walking along Crown, making noise and such.
The blind girl sitting at the traffic lights playing the accordian at 12am at night... in the cold, trying to get some pple to notice.
5 drunk aussies spouting vulgarities at her, then running off laughing and hooting.

Fuck you and your frens too