Lifeless Eyes

Sarah jumps out from a bus and dug her hands into her pockets. A taxi driver palmed the horn as she kept her pace at the pedestrian on a red signal, her tousled hair swayed with the wires of her earphones blasting the latest album of Paramore. She walked around a man who stood on her way to discuss a charity organization, and ran over the hand of a woman taking a selfie on the sidewalk. She turned into an alleyway, tapped her wallet on a black sensor, and pushed a heavy fire door until it slammed on the back wall. Within minutes, she was in and out of the female changing room, now dressed in a corporate uniform with her nameplate fixed on her lapel. As another door closed behind her and the linoleum floors turned into marble, a curve slowly took shape in her lips, and with a gentle voice, she greets a lady on the other end of the reception desk. A few taps on the keyboard and an exchange of credit cards and keycards, the lady thanks her politely then walks away as the next person in the queue comes forward. Sarah’s mouth and hands moved with purpose, but her eyes stared at each person as if they were no different than the figures on the screen. It was the same eyes that looked passed the people on the street. Eyes that pointed on the floor. Eyes that once frequent the night sky to see the stars.


Loud thoughts

What are we without the noises?
Without the wailing of a baby?
Without the panting of a runner?
What are we without the incessant chatter?
Just silence and emptiness
And maybe patience and independence
We wait for someone to make a sound
Someone to smile and say hello
And then the world becomes loud again
We run away from each other to find silence
And in that silence, we find that all we need is each other
So we shuffle from busy offices to solemn places of worship
From blaring streets to calm lakesides
From a raucous market to a warm bed
In stillness we find self-awareness
And in noises we find expression


Miles of bare emptiness expands beyond the eye
The desolation of a desert is not a land of nothingness
It is a rich field of uncondensed body of knowledge
Unhampered, untamed, uncontrolled by the biases

No kings or alphas running the pack
No boundaries keeping our unsullied inhibitions
Here beauty runs its own bewildering course
Here freedom reigns equal and infinite

Limits are conceived from a space contained
A box that is drawn with lines sketched with lies
Idealism is a single idea made rich
While a universe awaits the mind unchained

Step into the soil of limitless grounds
With arrows pointing in aimless directions
Capture the force of unlimited possibilities
Run towards the sky, swim into the earth

Downfall is only the regulation of gravity
Erase the laws and acquit the liabilities
Obligation is the nuisance of our immunity
Our summary is the handicap of the unabridged whole

Let us be susceptible to significant differences
Let our variances confuse our singular definitions
Equality is born in the middle of contrast
If you don’t have all sides, you will never have a centre

Break free to the assumption of the great unknown
Realise the probability of the world indeterminate
The wilderness is not a barren acre of void
But a vacancy unchartered, indefinite to the ascertained


Melancholy, what a drug, what a powerful drug
It gives me so much pleasure to feel this way
A heavy weight that carries me down
A deep sunken low, when the high is not what I crave

A bitter and sour taste in my mouth
A tasteful delicacy unlike no other
Why happiness is all we want, I’ll never know
I’ll take tragedies over triumph, I know I will

For the water so clear cleanses my soul
The tears I shed, they nourish my heart
My hunger for cries, a humble beat
Like nothing a boastful laughter can ever achieve

Our society they shame our striking differences
That anything unhappy is a disgrace to the masses
Some people need pleasure, some people need pain
The latter I know is not always in vain

I’m glad I know exactly what I am
I don’t need to prove my undying desire
My heart knows it wants, and not my mind
Melancholy is my drug, it is the wood to my fire

Lost is the route

Cotton blue blanket warms you up
The cold is your friend, the alcohol your refuge
Scrambling, begging, and desperately hoping
For any piece of comfort, for any kind of peace

Bitter breathes of smoke
Toxic clouds of nicotine
You keep quitting, you keep coming back
You find an end, it finds you back

The substance is the only way,
When you’re lost in your own bedroom
Inconvenient stubborn emotions
Numb it, and spill it all over the floor

Tip the jar of endless melancholy
Let the downpour flow like a powerful storm
Raise your hand and call out for help
Let the loneliness silence your cries

But don’t despair, this is just a sad story
You are your sadness, just as you are your happiness
Bask in it, and let it wash you
For cleanliness comes along with the shower

Foundation is strong when it is built from rock bottom
Face the day, survive it, and do it again
You hope for tomorrow, and tomorrow does come
Today is yesterday’s tomorrow, so remember yesterday

You were reaching out and calling for help
And what do you know, what a brilliant plot
The hand that takes and pulls your hand,
Is your own as you tend to the cries of your past

There is no shame in helping yourself
Find your substance and use it, but always take heed
Let your heart wallow when it needs
Let it dive and sink all the way into the deep

For this is the truest nature of life
Sadness is just as uncommon as happiness
You get used to it like the scar on your knee
You fall when you rise, you rise when you fall

When you were a child, you always dreamed of flying
Now you open your eyes and reality becomes the flight
The reason it rises and drops is because of the height
You can only plummet because you’re already in the sky

Up or down, so long as it’s forward
You were always the pilot, you were always in control
The plane is yours, so keep heading north
Just don’t forget it, and you will always soar


Photo: Twin Peaks, San Francisco, California, USA (July 2016)

Understanding the path

Socrates believed that death is either a dreamless sleep where all futurity is nothing more than just one night, or a passage to another life where the body is left behind and the mind becomes free to travel, seek new philosophies and meet other minds whose bodies have also come to pass. The first theory forces us to think that nothing we do in this life goes beyond it, so all there is to do is to enjoy it while it lasts. The second theory suggests that our consciousness are the only thing we are left with when our bodies die, which is why it helps to master the mind while we are still alive, so that we can enjoy the benefits of the afterlife when we get there. In Buddhism, the idea of this consciousness being carried over to the afterlife is only possible if you reach enlightenment, a certain quality of mind so pure that it breaks free from the cycle of reincarnation.

So why then is enlightenment so popular and why are some people devoting their lives in achieving it? Well, if you think about it, at some point in time everything is inevitably going to stop existing. It may take another million years or so, but everything in this physical reality will either be gone or live in complete darkness where life is unable to sustain itself anymore. The only way to avoid ceasing to exist as a conscious being in this finite universe, is to transcend it, and that is the essence of enlightenment.

Most people take every day as an opportunity to build an empire on this land when there is a universe waiting to be built in our minds; a universe that we can ascend into once this land is no more, like an ark that carries us once the tides have come to swallow the earth. Suddenly the idea of what we can achieve not just in this physical reality, but in our consciousness as a whole, seems vastly underrated when you look at the possibility of living forever in our own minds. But whether or not any of these theories are true or even if you refute the notion of an afterlife altogether, furthering the mind to reach a point of enlightenment seems to be the root idea in understanding the purpose of life.

So what then is the path? Phycisists deconstructs the the abstract of laws to arrive in a new conclusion, historians travel back in time to uncover the mysteries of this universe, and true saints and prophets sacrifice their lives in attempting to unite the entire human race through compassion, in order to work as one specie on the path of spiritual transcendence. You may find that the freedom to create your own path is dauntingly varying, and I for one has struggled with anxiety in finding my own. But what helped me know where to start was in discovery of the greatest universal truth I have learned from Philosophy and Religion — the only Evil in any reality or consciousness is Ignorance.

So the nature of the path then becomes clear, at least in the way it works. The path is an inquiry, a recollection, a contemplation, and a discovery. To heal the mind from its’ disease, and to find your innermost awareness in astounding clarity. For the path is not a road on which you follow, it is the unravelling of the mind and the excoriation of unanswered thoughts, solving, purifying, casting away ignorance again and again until you are left with nothing but yourself and your own truths. What ever your idea of transcendence and enlightenment is, the only way to get there is to ask, and that becomes your path.


Photo: Grand Canyons hiking trail, Blue Mountains, Australia (April 2017)