...then another entry after so long

Okay, I have to admit that I am a person of less focus. Sometimes I can be so focused (like updating my blogs with poems and photos almost every week) and then I become completely out-of-focus and do not even have the passion to write. Well, I do love to write, especially about life and feelings and deep-thoughts, but that usually have to happen at my low times; and since I can write this with ease, I guess I am at my low. Well, life is a roller coaster ride. One day you are on the top of the world, the next day you could be crawling on your four extremities. But no matter what, life goes on, and we also must move, even with the speed of a snail.

The question now is, "What do I want to with my life?" Well, I know for sure that I want to leave a legacy to the world. The problem is, I somehow am lost in what I am doing. You see, I used to be an M.D., treating people in a not-so-remote island. It used to give me joy. Then I felt to want to see the world, to leave the cradle that was so comfortable. I did it, and I spend my five years as a post-grad student in a faraway country. The first and second year were the honeymoon periods, and then the confusion and frustration kicked in. Still, I believe it was part of a process; after all all post-grad students feel that they are in the low of their life. Now, it has been a year since my graduation, but I still think I am lost. The feeling that I am not doing the right thing still lingers. Sure, it is nice to work in a respected university with the state-of-the-art technology: I am working with a portable sequencer that is hailed to be the next generation in DNA sequencing. Yet, there is something missing; it is like I have lost the human touch. Working in a laboratory with cold robotic people around you tends to dull your empathy. And until I can find the human touch again, I guess I would always be feeling lost. Eventually, the purpose of what I am doing is to make the world a better place, and that would be useless if it was only the world, but not the people living in it. I do believe that there is nothing wrong with the path that I chose, it is just I need to cherish it with laughter and emotion, just when I was a physician back then.

Decision

Living is an art of making decision. Life is full of choices and there would be no moment when we do not have to make decisions. Sometimes we make a right decision, sometimes we make a wrong one; although right or wrong is absolutely subjective. A killing could be rationalize as rightful, although it is wrong by consensus. Killing a very sick person may not have to be wronged. I always have this question since forever: If one person kills a person, does the killer deserve to be punished? Fate (or be it God) controls all the aspect in the world. Wouldn't it be that his death was fated, and the killer was only a means to achieve the death? Then he should never be punished. Then again, if he is never to be punished, the already blurred boundary will be blurer: What is a fate and what is a will?

We do have to make choices. The reason choices are there, probably because they are delivered by the fate itself. However, the decision will be ours to decide, and fate will again deliver another choices in the future. The choices are fated, but the decisions are ours. Nevertheless, I believe nature always tries to balance itself, and some choices might already be favored. To listen to what nature is saying, we will eventually choose a choice that cause a greater good. That choice will work with us, and however wrong it may appear, we will know eventually that we make the right choice.

A piece of thought 一欠けらの思い

However seemingly impossible it is, there will be a way. Weren’t flight once a dream? Now people have gone to space. Things will eventually find themselves free from obstacles. Water will eventually find its way to the estuary. For live is vulnerable, take shelter in our faith. As believing in something, be it God or just ourselves, we will have the courage to go forward; no matter how dark and dangerous and alone the path may be. This piece of mind shall never change forever. 無理と見えても、何とかなると信じている。昔の時に、飛行は夢だった、ただいま人間は宇宙に行っているでしょ。道が自然的に表すのは間違いない。どうしても水を遮るのは、結局河口まで。壊れ物だからこそ、人生が信仰を囲おう。神様に限らない、自分だけに信じても、漆黒の道に一人で歩む勇気を出せると思う。この一欠けらの思いを、いつまでも変えたくない。

Lust

The thought of you makes me trepidatious; my body trembles over the longing for you. Like a condemned werewolf yearning for the blood moon, I, too, am a lycanthrope whose heart goes berserk over the sight of your flesh. This nyctophobia self will like to feast in the heat of the night, being wild and frenzy, dancing ecstatically, indulging in the pheromones from every tickle of your sweat. I will let my soul to be decadent and this sepulchral soul will gladly have its perdition for the lust over you.

Ode to Boreas

Oh, Boreas who rules the Northern Wind. Hail, oh you, who dance beautifully. Along with it, come colder climes, come shorter light. Algid gale breathes often, the world goes to hibernaculum. Winter overcomes, frore is the life. This gelid season is your domain. Its murkiness weakens the mind. Its frigidity frosts the bones. Its blue breaks the soul. The days are brumal and the nights are hiemal. Yet, come halcyon days, you are festive: Snow and névé, ice and hoarfrost, flashy women and men in coats and boots, a circle of family before the furnace, cashmere and fleece, hot chocolate and eggnog... Though your dance is difficult, for ever as it may seem, you will eventually get weary and will finally be succumbed, until the time you dance again after one Earth's circle.

The physics of love

For every soul out there, there is an antisoul. Like every matter that has an antimatter, that antisoul is you with an opposite charge. You and that antisoul is not compatible at the surface, but you and your antisoul is complementing each other. If you two meet, bump, and merge, nothingness is born. This nothingness is not an emptiness, because you two will be transformed into higher forms, no longer recognized as two, bound in so called God particle that covers the universe, giving mass to everything, giving sense to the non-sense, giving meaning to the meaningless. If you meet your antisoul, be prepared, because the journey for you two will not be physical anymore, but metaphysical, quantum physical, beyond all the senses can perceive.

Humans 人間

NASA has released the largest picture ever taken and it will shake up your universe; a link that will make we think our existence. Now that I am on the subject, I need to admit humans are minuscule, but it is essential to be meaningful. The presence of humans in this vast universe should mean something. Not now, but in another 1,000 or 10,000 years, humans will definitely be able to change the universe. And we are those future humans' ancestors. We are building the foundation of the future. Therefore, our existence is not without meaning. 人間はちっぽけ。ただ、有意義になるのは大事。こんな宇宙の中に人間の存在は確かに意味があるはず。今じゃなくて、千年か一万年後にきっと人間は宇宙を変えることが可能。我々はそんな未来人間の先人。我々は未来の基礎を作ってる。我々の存在は意味のないわけはない。

Heartbroken syndrome

What is the heart-throbbing, soul-tearing, chest-ripping sensation that you many times feel when love turns sour? That feeling is so close to the loss of euphoria from a glass of Moscatto sparkling wine. It is also so close to the withdrawal effect from serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine following metamphetamine intake. It is so deep in the oubliette of the sub-gastric area, you would want to rip the abdomen off and take out the gut-wrenching phenomena created by the reaction of norephinephrine between the synapses of parasympathetic nerves. It is so painful, your tear glands would never stop producing tears. It is so overwhelming, your heart would slow down and break. That is why it is called the heartbroken syndrome.

Exordium

Ever since the genesis of the universe, time has never stopped revolving. Yet, humans devised a means to divide moments, to keep track of their biological age, hence, years were born. A new year has commenced, and people, once again, act as if a nascent book is to be written. The idea of starting new is surely a mirage, because life never starts over. Be that as it may, writing on blank pages might be a symbol of redemption of the faulty years, of purging and cleansing of sins and defaults, of recrudescence. Of course, as the faithfuls would say, for those who want to salvage themselves, there is always an exordium.

Just for fun

I think I have OCD with a bit of OCPD, not to mention a splash of narcissism and bipolarism. At least the fact that I realize this, which means I'm neurotic not psychotic, relieves me. Isn't it great to rhyme in medical term? You can say anything like dermatophytosis and enterobiasis to describe ring worm and pinworm (by the way, although both have 'worm', the former is a skin disease whose form is like worm), or you can say words like vomitus and coitus to sound sophisticated, even when they only mean to puke and to fuck.

Living big

Life should not be small and about continuing your genes only, nor should it only be contained in family, home, and kitchen. Life should be about greatness. It should be big, bold, and adventurous. It should be heavy to be able to sink to the deepest sea, but also must be light to be able to inflate to the space. It should see the littlest thing and observe the biggest substance. It should touch the untouchable and step into the unexplainable. It should leave heritage to its offspring and their offspring and so on. Life should be bigger than life itself.

Fallen words

Will you say words that will only fall like leaves, meaningless and forgotten? Or will you say words that will nurture and revive? Words are both powerful destroyer or savior and such power should be appraised before casted beyond recovery. So, what are your words for today?

Lingering hope at summer's end

As the summer is out and the festivities have gone, there is a lingering loneliness in the air. Season is changing and another winter is on the doorstep. The cycle of the universe will not come to an end, and neither will this solitude of mine come to an end any sooner. The biting cold is imminent and bracing for it is the only option. In my heart, there is a hope that next summer will bring with it another summer memory. A memory that may banish this aloneness to its isolation.

The privilege of loving

Loving somebody is a privilege. It's a privilege that's given to those who understand that making somebody happy is more important than risking themselves in days of longing and mourning. It's a privilege to yourself, because loving is an act of courage that requires a lot of sacrifice, patience, understanding; all the traits that will perfect your soul to be more noble. It's a privilege to those who you love, because receiving love is like receiving one of rarest thing in the world; it's even rarer than diamonds. If you are now loving and being loved, you should rejoice: you are on the path of becoming a perfect human being; and perhaps being perfect in the path towards eternity is the only purpose for us.

When the night jokes...

The night zipped you to my dream. Addressed to the lane of my heart, you were wrapped in a glittery paper, signed by a cupid as the mailman. Beneath the paper, you were so adorable; with that bunny outfit, even so adorable you were. You walked, hopped, ensnared me with your smile. Seemed like a dream within a dream, you incepted me there when you began to reach for me. Your touch was a black hole that devoured me into ecstasy. And when that lips got hold onto me, that was enough to send me out from the illusion to the realm of the real; leaving me with the empty warmth when I realized that I was still dancing with my solitude. Night does have a great sense of humor!

Just you wait, world!

I might be ugly. I might be a pest. I might be a parasite. And I might be a disease. But, I am more than what meets the eye. Just you wait, world. There will be a time this shell evanesces; the shell that conceals who I really am. There will a time the unseen uncovers; the unseen wings that will soar me above you. There will be a time you can only wonder, how can he who once failed to enchant can now be so alluring. Just you wait, world, for the time I am a butterfly.

The beginning

At the beginning, there was nothing in the universe. It was pitch black, dark, and empty. Silence. And then, random thing happened. Atoms collided, merged, separated, combined, negated each other, and the finally, they were not negated, but instead positively chained to create the matter. It expanded, exploded, and arranged itself, from the chaotic to the orderly fashioned. It swirled, slowly, but with tremendous energy, pulling everything into its center, merged into one, condensed, with energy so powerful, it flashed. Light was born, just out of nowhere. Maybe it was created, maybe it was just random. Maybe it was meant to be, or just another unwanted effect. Who would know? But somewhere in the vast existence, life was born; also due to random and fortunate chain reactions of the elements. That random reactions created glucose, phosphate, and everything it needed to support DNA: the backbone of life. From the freak arrangements of four letters, life is as it is now. Incomprehensible. The mystery will never be unfolded. Then, you and I are here. This is, the beginning for this restless soul trying to fit in, in the universe.