Bridging Minds airs on Sunday, 2nd August
OKTO, 8pm-9:30pm
Filed under: future future future perfect | Tags: Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
I was surprised by suddenly understanding the mysterious radiance of the sands. When I was a little boy I lived in an old house, and there was a legend that a treasure was buried in it somewhere. Of course, no one even searched. But it cast a spell over that whole house. My house hid a secret in the depths of its heart…
“Yes,” I said to the little prince, “whether its a house or the stars or the desert, what makes them beautiful is invisible!”
What makes you beautiful is invisible, baby. I have seen you collapse into an exhausted heap over the table; and your face fall too many times over an exam script. But don’t you get it? What makes you beautiful is invisible. But it is not invisible to me.
In the depths of your heart you are hiding profound secrets of strength. You don’t see it because you cannot see strength written in red ink on top of an exam paper. Or through eyes that are tired from struggling to complete last night’s homework. But the eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart.
And if your heart sees nothing but caterpillars, you have to put up with them if you want to get to know the butterflies. Apparently they’re very beautiful. I would know. I have watched you when you weren’t looking out for yourself. You are beautiful because of your heart; luscious and strong and as plump as a partridge. One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes.
He drank, eyes closed. It was as sweet as a feast. That water was more than merely a drink. It was born of our walk beneath the stars, of the song of the pulley, of the effort of my arms. It did the heart good, like a present.
When I was a little boy, the Christmas-tree lights, the music of midnight mass, the tenderness of people’s smiles made up, in the same way, the whole radiance of the Christmas present I recieved.
Its 33 days to prelims and I understand if all you want to do is hide behind a thousand men. But the heart is a muscle like any other and the best exercise you can do for it is called picking yourself up off the floor. I’ve been reading The Little Prince all over again, and it’s amazing and inspiring; and I’ve been telling almost everyone who would listen about it, because I want them to feel as special as I do whenever I read it. Read my favourite chapter here (click), the one with the Fox.
I wrote this with a few people in mind; the friend who has been wrongly judged by higher authority, the boy who has never read The Little Prince (not even as a child just to marvel at the illustrations), and half the people I know who are now facing immense pressure for prelims. Time are hard for dreamers.
It is such a secret place, the land of tears.
Filed under: Jesus wants me for a sunbeam | Tags: Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
“You’re lovely, but you’re empty,” he went on.
“One couldn’t die for you. Of course an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than you altogether, since she’s the one I’ve watered. Since she’s the one I put under glass. Since she’s the one I sheltered behind a screen. Since she’s the one for whom I killed the caterpillars (except for two or three for butterflies).
Since she’s the one I listened to when she complained, or when she boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing at all. Since she’s my rose.”
—
“What must I do, to tame you?”
asked the little prince.
“You must be very patient,” replied the fox.
but if you tame me,
it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life.
It does not matter what we feel. What matters in the human experience is that we feel.
-Sab
You know what sucks? The complete dullness of a lack of some violent emotion running through my veins. Its the nothingness in the aftermath of prolonged periods of heartache. This should be an awesome time for me to shut up and focus on the fact that its 34 days to prelims but I’ve been writing nothing but uninspired crap for so long.
I’ve always been driven by the need to be emancipated from some horrid life sucking sadness. So now I surround myself with frivolity. I trawl tumblrs for some sense of emotional connection, put in the least effort I can muster into my tutorials.
I want to be in Chicago now with Debbie and Evonne and going to Lollapalooza and looking forward to college but now I’m just stuck here trying not to fall asleep because falling asleep would mean school coming a lot faster than it should.
There are too many inexplicable things around us – horrors, threats, mysteries that draw you in and then inevitably disenchant you. Back to the predictable and humdrum. The prince is never going to come, and maybe Sleeping Beauty’s dead.
It scares me that I can’t feel anything.
If your favorite song never ended,
or your best book never closed,
if the emotions mustered from these things would just go on and on,
who wouldn’t want to stay asleep?
Again, I’m living in phases with its own song attached to it, right now it’s Madi Don’t Leave by Playradioplay! (Thanks Ivan), although I’m terribly bothered that wordpress won’t led me embed imeem or mp3 files. And tumblr that is absolutely gorgeous with all its amazing mixed media mumblejumble doesn’t provide privacy locking system.
Yknow, I feel like doing something awesome; like that time when someone anonymous stuck a post-it on my lift that said ‘Change your thoughts and you change your world’. It made me happy and think of Sab because it was her kinda thing.
I want to sit on the bench outside class in the morning and watch strangers go past and think to myself: someone loves them.
So your heart’s a slow learner and those drugs are its disguise. Well, at least your heart is trying and the strange thing about this life is that no one fits in quite right. Does your heartbeat seem like a lie, the way it just don’t feel right inside? Well, so does mine. Alright, so does mine.
you can tell now that i’m tired,
oh, it’s exhausting to be so diligent in my vigilance,
to have a heart that never sleeps.
Madi dear can’t we just disappear
and take our chances
on teenagers romances
put our money where our mouth isIt takes a lot to make me
pretty angry and very sad
and i’m lookin towards the outcome
there must be some hidden reason
we shared kisses upside down
and on your old quilt
by your computer, i was hoping
your garage as it openedIs there anyway
you could change schools and stay
up here in fort worth
cause you’re what i look for
i’ve got a hopeless crush
maybe that don’t mean much
to you but i’m hoping
this could keep growing
—
Ivan you’re right, this song is awesome, but now I can’t concentrate on my tutorial cos my head keeps bopping to the music and my handwriting is going crazy.
Josh, your post made my viewership skyrocket! O:
we shared conversations on
how we’re all just floating
through space and nothing matters
i’m looking for a pattern
Filed under: Enough Rope
Filed under: Jesus wants me for a sunbeam
JOSHUA CHAN KHENG ERN, YOU’RE A HORRIBLE PERSON.
I tell you what: I give you all of my strength – I seal it inside a little green envelope and mail it to you with hope and peace and much much love. Take all you need and take it quickly.
—
I crave some kind of connection; something wildly intimate. I want you to tell me of the place you realise your heart longs for, right before you fall asleep. Or the traumatic episode in your life that left you so jaded. I want to hunt for the sighs that hide in the grooves of your heart and liberate them slowly into the night sky.
But the smile across the hallway is just an acknowledgement of your being, the text is just to remind me of next week’s tests. Phone calls are just about homework and photos were always only just about that fleeting moment. I wish things weren’t just.
Its like when I write: you are better / than cherries. You’ll just glance over it until you actually sink your teeth into the flesh of a cherry and its bursts all over your tongue and the walls of your mouth; and then you’ll realise, hell yeah she has a point.
Tell me something intimate. Post anonymously. Fake an email address.
—
BM screening has been postponed till next Sunday, which means okto is actually going to flash my gross mug all over free to air national television ugh.
this man said its gruesome
that someone so handsome should care
