It's strange when you read your friend's book. Much more so when it's a book of poetry. Especially when all those poetry used to come into your mailbox. It's weird, not like reading a diary, but more like reading a blog - that is, if you discount all those written by kiddies that don't seem to go anywhere or say anything - it's like catching up on what you've missed in his life, what's happened thus far, except... except it's printed in a book.

So makes me to think how much like a book blogs are, and how some people get printed and others don't. But even stranger that I'd use a new invention as an analogy for something that's been around for so long - I think poetry and blogs have pretty much in common - in that how little fragments make up the whole person that we are. Only that poetry is much more matured, much more artful in its ability to put more contemplation into the same number of words, and much more elegant when it starts to deceive.

Which brings me to the same conclusion that Art is whatever you deem worthy to be called Art. No, don't get me wrong - I'm not putting forth a recursive definition; maybe I should say that Art, to me, is whatever you deem worthy of contemplation, of meditation - and have such labelled as Art. Which I think is exactly what photography does. It's the promise of having a depth beyond the surface, the promise that says, "chew on this, you'll learn something here". And that, to me, sets the artistic eye apart from the scientific eye. So, what does the scientifiy eye say? Ah, that would have made a separate post.

人生は電車のようで、
時刻表でもあればいいなぁ。
夜まで遊んだりするとき、
駅に行ったら、必ず
コレダ、オクレタラモウデンシャガコナイゾ、
との電車が、きっと、その時間（トキ）現れる。
でも今の僕は、来ない電車を待ってるようだ。
時間はまだあるけど、
相手のない約束を守ってもらいたいなんて、
夢の中の嘘を買ったようだ。
でも仕方がない。もう、
信じちまってる、僕は。
この町を、いつか離れちゃいけないかな、
そのヒトに出会うために。
会いたいよ、今でも。

I would think Singapore's Bilingual Education not to have been too successful. I've thought of this for a very long time. At least 6 years I think, is what it takes to learn a language. But children struggle to split their time between two languages - often having no environment to sustain one of them. If thinking were impossible without language, what we have done is fragmenting their thought-life. Yes, they don't have enough words in either language to adequately express themselves without the other - and why should this be important?

For me, a language is not just an "external interface protocol", but also a whole framework of thought that allows you to sort yourself out. If your framework gets fragmented, you'll need something to hold it all together. If you don't, it's like having too many contractors for a project and nobody knows how the whole thing fixes together - nobody recognises the big picture, and parts sometimes don't fit too well together.

Yes, making a living is important, but if you can't even sort yourself out, you're gonna be spending a lot of yourself on your job.

Okay, maybe that's exactly what the urban life needs. People who cannot sort themselves out, seeking solutions in the world to fill them up - and along the way just happening to be always paying for the bigger, the better, the newer, the faster everything... I wouldn't like to think that this has been the energy driving the Middle Class in this country.

I think what we should do, is to school children in a language different from that they speak at home. So that they have environments to sustain both. And if this turns out bad - maybe our text books have been too badly written? Oh yes, or maybe Chinese teachers can quit pretending to be Ambassadors of the Chinese Tradition.

今の部屋。散らかしてる。今の人生のように。
今年の年末年始もこれらを整理しないと。

oh yes, taiwan. the nice thing about taiwan is that it's so overwhelmingly naturally chinese that you don't even notice it. you don't stop to think about how you have to be any more chinese than whatever you are. oh yes, sometimes you even think that you are THE chinese :P but that's what it's like... a chinese country, rooted in itself. strange isn't it? that scattered throughout the rest of the world, are overseas chinese, cut off from their land - and some of them clenching on so hard to whatever their long dead forefathers had taught them about being chinese that their brains become just a little more than antiques. but over here, people club, drink, dance, work, karaoke, eat, shop, surf the web, and everything, and when their mouths open - it just so happens to be mandarin. yes, it's the blood in their bodies, connected to the land. yes, over here, culture is alive. common', get connected. don't let the word culture fit awkwardly in your mouth like some ancient mantra that you have to recite day after day. let go. then as it flows in your blood, you'll start to realise that it's really just the way you live.

いつその一歩を踏み出そうのか、まだ思ってる。怖いが、それこそが僕の人生の旅みたいに、どこかから呼びかけてくる。でも世界を見たい。だが、そんな勇気は、今のところはまずない。このまま歩んでいっても、素敵なたびになるじゃないか、ともよく思ってるけど、旅人の人生は、とにかく魅力的。サラリーマンの日々を送ってる内、まるで都会の罠に陥っていくような気がする。

Don't ask me out for horror shows. I'd tell you it's not my type of movies, but it's really because I get very scared. And shouting in curling up in the cinema seat is really too uncool. Even when I know something's just about to happen, that the guy's going to come up from behind, I still get a terrible shock when he does. As much as I would cry even when I know they're just using those very emotive words together to make me feel like that. But I'm just like that. And I laugh very loud in funny shows. Maybe it's because I have nobody to cry for, nobody to laugh for in life, that I'd pour out to a screen. Yet I have a problem with recycled jokes. If I've already heard it five years ago, it's just not funny anymore. Mayhaps, this, is where the problem lies. If I had known love five years ago, it's probably not going to be easy to make me laugh again. But if you're out there trying, remember also that I laugh very loud. Yeah, I'm just like that.

USD. With the world's economies coming up and going down, everything's still measured in USD. Don't like thinking about it that way. Foreign currency. Branded goods. Starbucks. Think about it. It really looks like an american company is offering the local community same drink, at the same price. Okay, maybe I'm pushing it a little too far, but after a while, you feel like you're not making anything until you're making USD. Yes, it's a free world and everything's on offer, with a price tag in USD. There's only one real First World, and it's not too hard to understand the american dream. Yes, i think the american dream is still pretty much alive all around the world, but I'm too asian for it.

寒かった。

寒かったとしかいえない。昨夜はそんなに楽しかったのに、そのよる、Clubの中で、一言も言わずに姿が消えた。正直惹かれた、その歌声に。驚いた。すごかった。いつかまた聞きたいほど。でもClubでの夜の寂しさは、「寒かった」としかいえない。ビル何杯も飲んであげたのに、酔っていたのに、彼の姿は、どこにもなかった。いいえ、寒かったのは心だけじゃなく、体は本当に震えてた。そのあったかい懐、どこに行ったんだろうか。一人で帰るつもりもなかったが、その夜、本当に台湾の夜の寒気を味わった気がする。

Back from Taiwan. Singapore's weird. Somehow feeling that. Singaporeans are strange, somehow - in my head, it's just not natural.... argh. what's wrong?