Sunday, December 25, 2011
XI. Existence
Sunday, November 20, 2011
X. Mask of Sanity
Monday, November 7, 2011
IX. perspective
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
VIII. Great Expectations
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Us and them - Pink Floyd
And after all we're only ordinary men
Me, and you
God only knows it's not what we would choose to do
Forward he cried from the rear
And the front rank died
And the General sat, as the lines on the map
Moved from side to side
Black and Blue
And who knows which is which and who is who
Up and Down
And in the end it's only round and round and round
Haven't you heard it's a battle of words
The poster bearer cried
Listen son, said the man with the gun
There's room for you inside
Down and Out
It can't be helped but there's a lot of it about
With, without
And who'll deny that's what the fighting's all about
Get out of the way, it's a busy day
And I've got things on my mind
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died
Saturday, October 8, 2011
VII. Choice and Destiny
Acceptance is the best way. Trust time to make everything clear. Sometimes you have to fall to rise again. No choice is wrong because knowledge is the greatest gain.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
VI. Mellow
in cycles of boredom and contentment
Lazy days and tiring nights
may never be dimmed, these sparkling lights
Oh time so flies by mellow, yellow,
accept my gratitude for this vision
Though this will not last an eternity,
will gladly see you next season ....
Friday, July 29, 2011
V. Sunset of Age
The days are getting shorter. The gaps are getting wider. The door creaks open. The red sun sets. Where have you come? Are you gonna sit on your heaps of gold trying to get back the days of youth you wasted?
IV. Achievement
It is joyous to achieve something। Mere possession will not do. Success cannot be gauged in terms of material gains but in terms of achievement. No one can measure the level of your achievement but yourself. It measured by the level of contentment in your soul.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
III. Freedom
I would rather not be chained to you. It is too much of a price to pay – anxiety, sorrow, jealousy, guilt. Love is but a confusing term. I‘d love you better if I wasn’t in love with you. Only selfless love is free of Maya. I would rather be free to love you, or not.
II. Circle of Illusion – the question
It is true that death sets everything free. Life is an illusion to those who regard death as the awakening. It’s all Maya – birth, relations, love, greed, anger, hatred, fear, pain, pleasure. To be free before dying is to know that life is an illusion. Only after that realization, one can live to the fullest.
Perhaps Life is best enjoyed as a lucid dream, when you know it’s not real and you can just play along. But that is when Maya comes from behind and you are trapped again. Though you know it was all an illusion, you find it hard to let it go, all the meaningless things become important – there, you’ve come a full circle.
Can anyone survive free of all Maya, free of suffering? Perhaps Buddha knows… (To be continued)
Sunday, July 17, 2011
I. Dreams
He said he couldn’t write unless he was unhappy, unfulfilled, in conflict, in doubt, uncertain. It is one thing to dream it, it is another to realize it. Most dreams are unreal, unfulfilled and forgotten. Many lives are spent in the illusion that somehow one’s dreams will become true; while many just dream, without ever feeling the need to convert them into reality.
He could have spent his life being lost in his fantasies while pretending to carry on with whatever he was expected to do. He could have pretended he cared about empty relations and responsibilities. But he wasn’t good at faking. Or he could have declared that he just wanted to dream and nothing else. He was torn between the two. He was good at hiding though, so he hid for a long time. He turned into a beast. Sometimes he cursed his fate. Sometimes he longed to just escape into the void of a primitive life of the struggle to merely survive. He stopped hiding when he couldn’t dream anymore. Terrified of this, he tried swimming in this humane stream of the mundane but he almost drowned. Imagination is only alive when you make it real, when you give it a form. Then he dreamt again, he dreamt of finding a way to any place he wanted to be. So he wrote…….