Lovecraftian nightmares and contemplations about the hearth.

(And) I think, now, we can safely say we've lost the hearth - Stephen Fry

I can't recall the last time I had a dream like that. Actually, 'tis more accurate it be called a nightmare. There I was running for dear life in a mall of shadows, the darkness hiding a beast whose form was not known to me, and to know is to be overcome with madness and death (classic Lovecraft).

Yet things took a bizarre turn when I had to defend myself and my friends in a finale of sorts... By playing a video game match, and each time we lost, the beast cometh to consume one of us. And I was the last one standing before I jolted awake, unwilling to behold the form of the monstrosity lest I lose my sanity, at least that's what I suspect would've happened if things played out like a Lovecraft novel.

Now here's the part that amuses me somewhat. Having studied to some degree the nature of human dreams, it's interesting to take a step back and understand that the brain doesn't generate these images with any semblance of intent to create a story. The brain simply activates neurons at random during the REM stages of sleep and synthesises a sensation based of those signals, and we the person would perceive those signals in the form of flashing images more often than not.

Dreams become what they are when we impart a narrative to them. Some people have more talent in giving their dreams meaning than others, that is why you have people who can effortlessly recall their dreams where others might struggle. I don't know this for sure, but I suspect it isn't dependent on one's ability to remember, but one's ability to ascribe a story to the chaos that they saw in their heads while asleep.

I suppose I happen to fall to the former group, as I'd usually have no problems reciting my dreams whenever they do occur.

Which interestingly made me think back to an idea I had heard from Stephen Fry regarding narratives. To paraphrase his sentiment, the practice of gathering around the hearth to tell stories is a dying art. Increasingly we see individuals within families and communities preferring solitude and shunning the dining table conversations.

In a way, what was valuable about the hearth in the past was that people tend to form ideas and narratives around things they did no understand. Of lightning and rain, sun and moon, such complexities of nature that men did not understand then. Once in a while you'd get some pretty interesting and creative interpretations of these things, hence the folk tales, the myths, the household stories, and going a bit further, of moralities and philosophies, and the eternal struggle of good and evil.

We've lost a bit of that, as people of our modern times are more eager to be fed a narrative than to construct one themselves. This becomes scary because people in power today are where they are in part because of their ability to construct powerful narratives, good and bad.

The orators of our world today wield the ideas of the public to the direction of their fancy, think Donald Trump and his commitment to telling the tale of a failing nation that needs his aid. Think Ellen DeGeneres, whose ceaseless seeking of feel-good stories in the most unexpected places is hoping to instil a sense of hope and kindness into her viewers. Think the countless vloggers of YouTube, each trying to put their stories out into the world hoping that their viewers derive some sort of meaning from them.

The power of narratives is still here, and is still ever a powerful influence. Yet people are surrendering their own voices to others without even realising.

That includes myself...

I suppose ultimately this is why I ponder these things. I prefer reticence for as long as I can remember. Yet day by day I wish to break away from the silence to develop my own voice beyond the trappings of this digital page. I wish to speak, and I wish to speak in such a way that people will listen.

This is my hope in finding that voice, that I may be able to construct meaningful and good narratives for the betterment of others.

Until then.

Calmer times, calmer thoughts.

Strange how a month can change one’s perspective. I reread the past few postings of mine and can’t help but feel at odds with its mean-spirited tone.

The disappointment is still there, true, yet I feel I’m at last at another stage of moving-on, even if it isn’t true acceptance yet.

I say that it isn’t true acceptance yet because the cost of me being in a happier state-of-mind is that I try my best not to think of you.

Yet there are moments that come by where I do think of you now, and they don’t freeze me up. I just… Sit there to behold it, let it pass. Perhaps that’s progress in of itself.

Another thing that got me thinking is the recent Facebook postings of two friends of mine. You’d know them as well, they broke up a little ahead of us. They both recently took to Facebook to air their dirty laundry. Truth be told, it’s never pleasant to observe, to be told of bad things of one and the other since my own dealings with both were anything but antagonistic.

I can’t help but wonder now… Two things specifically.

Of the first is that I wonder what would you tell people about me now. Would it be an apologetic explanation, or would you pin the fault of our parting to me? Perhaps that’s my current concern, being worried that I gave you any reason at all to feel hurt during and after our time together.

The other is how I’d describe you now… I was pondering about it the whole day today. A month ago I’d be spewing venom had anyone asked me. Yet not today…

I suppose if I had to capture my current thoughts about you, it is this…

You had many things I loved about you, and you still have all those as part of yourself… You’re intelligent, diligent, and you do have a great capacity to care for people, even if you don’t always know how to, that has always been your charm. It’s just that you did a few things to me towards the end of our run that caused this blemish that now hinders the shine of all the lovable aspects of you, to me at least…

I guess that’s how I feel for now… Some level of acceptance, but not quite there still…

With all that said, I actually don’t mind as much if you find happiness apart from me now. I say this for the first time. I don’t think I’ve genuinely felt this way. Now? Even if it’s not a complete release, at least my feelings about your departure, for want of a better way to describe it, feels alright, it feels okay.

And I hope that makes you feel okay too.

Mid-winter contemplations.

Winter solstice is around the corner no? Back home it used to mean little to me apart from the fact that it's around this time all the tang yuan (汤圆) start rolling out, but now that I'm experiencing winter proper, the prospect of nearing the middle of winter excites me.

Why? Because I can't wait for the temperature to start rising again. Oh sweet equinox, ever to me posthaste.

This year hasn't been easy to say the least, having just weather through a break-up with someone I thought would be the one for my lifetime's worth. Nay, it seems.

Yet the pain makes the little nuggets of happy moments all the sweeter, now that I'm reaching a point of acceptance.

I've been listening to this humble tune of late:

Joyful listen to say the least. Simple, straightforward, yet so abounding in optimism.

I suppose part of why I resonate with it is the realisation of how little yet precious my smiles have been of late, given the circumstances. Mind you, 'tis not any big achievements that draw out my grin, but the simple gifts of my mundane experiences that do.

The view of the morning sun, hindered by nought a cloud... The taste of sweet lemonade when I thirst... A simple song to remind me to smile o'er simple things...

Hark, here's to the cheerier times past, present, and future.

Postings from a lounge with a fireplace.

'Tis the season so they say, though thankfully nary a flake of snow drops here.

Still this fireplace is a welcomed sight, for someone such as I.

To be honest, a winter's passing in the desert isn't nearly as dreary as it sounds.

The birds chirp its usual tune, and the breeze runs through the leaves to fiddle its favourite cadenza.

And I seat here to ponder my place in this frame, this time and space.

To behold a picture that's constantly shifting; a window into the not-so still life.

To admire the simple joys of being well and alive; a door to wondrous possibilities.

The people, the streets... The bicycles, the skates...

They pass me by to tell me a hint of their individual stories.

And so I shall sit here, to ponder all, to find contentment.

All during this beautiful morn.

The seasonal revivals.

Dear No One,

Seems like this space has a tendency to draw me back every so often, for want of my thoughts and perspectives.

How has it been? 'Tis quite a while since my last posting, I admit, but you have to concede that one hardly feels the need to write to the void when one has a significant other to confide in.

Yet this has changed now, in fact it has been almost half a year since the split. But only recently did I feel the sense of catharsis, tasting a semblance of acceptance to the situation, thus I feel the want to write here once again, just as an idle fulfilment to my need of being heard.

So how fare thee, my old friend? It is strange to share my current thoughts in a space that also captured the innocence of my youth, near a decade ago. Oh the reckless abandon of an ignorant youth, 'tis all too amusing and embarrassing to behold.

I suppose you do deserve some updates from my end. Where do I begin...?

For starters, I'm doing a second undergraduate degree in Music Therapy in the US, how's that for a change? Spent a year and a half in the recording studio, made me ruminate on many things about my choices in life, and now I am in a foreign land trying to figure out the theory of the mind while manoeuvring this social and cultural maze of trying to blend in without losing myself.

Of course, the break-up initially made me relentlessly contemplative, but with each day passing, I grow less and less affected by it to be honest. Dare I say that hope seems to be returning as well.

Student life has been kind to me so far, and to be honest, I didn't even realise how much I miss learning. My only fear now is complacency, that is to make the same mistake as my previous studies, buried in the books, but lose out on the connections, the network, the people... I'm still all too tempted to stay in my shell, but this time around, I intend to try my hand in doing the tangible, at least that's the plan for now. What come may, we'll see.

Anyway, 'tis awfully nice to chat with you again, I'll  be sure not to wait too long before my next update. Take care.