From the outside, the Olympic Village looks like an ephemeral, seasonal creature, appearing regularly once every two years at various locations on earth, branching to form a nexus and eventually spreading and sprawling as it approaches optimum size. It breathes and pulses with the collective consciousness of a few thousand souls, much like how a colonial marine organism undulates and ripples with the tide.
On the inside of the colony, groups of individuals specialise in their niches, interact both within themselves and with other groups from other niches to trade functions, metabolites, ideas. Responding to a cocktail of chemical and environmental cues, they are driven to perform their tasks at the highest levels, to make and break connections, to participate in discourse and intercourse.
The materialisation of the Olympic Village happens for a reason: mass-spawning. Given that the Olympic Village is the only creature of its kind on earth this might not make much sense at first, until one realises that the condensation of individuals into this hub is the only way for the exchange of genetic material (and thus widening of the gene pool) to take place; individuals live largely separate and disparate lives outside of this congregation.
Imagine this community of thousands of athletes ebbing and flowing, tensing and relaxing, over days of intense competition and nights of intense passion. Knowing this arrangement is merely temporary. Imagine the silent sigh of a coral reef as individual polyps pulse in unison and release their gametes into the ocean over those few balmy summer nights…
The first time I’ve come across the term “Bombay duck” (a type of fish) was in Anita Desai’s The Village by the Sea, which we had to read for English Literature in Sec 1. I loved the book, and reread it many times after it ceased to be homework. Possibly the beginning of my fascination with books written by Indian writers set in India. I have no idea why the term stuck in my head but it did, and it’s come to be one of the associations my brain makes with Bombay, with India.
The second time the term popped up in my life was this Monday during a dinner gathering, where an ex-colleague of current colleagues mentioned that he tried Bombay duck in Macau and found it delicious. Not surprisingly I was the only one at the table who went “Oh! Bombay duck!” before he explained and showed us photos on his iPad (the fish does look somewhat like pale duck wings…with awesome jaws)… Haha go Google.
Hope I’ll get to try Bombay duck someday!
This can be either an example of how my brain retains weird nuggets of information or a reason why I feel happy to be alive.
Today, when I was in the toilet, I randomly remembered something someone said to me some time ago..
Something about how I’d “always be like that”, and how I’d “never change”…And something about how I’m just “not a programmer” and will never be one.
What a lot of labels. What a lot of predicting-the-future.
Fortunately, I am not a fatalistic person, haha.
I do not believe in fortune-telling or predictions made without even a sideway gaze into the crystal ball (and in bad temper, no less).
The one thing I believe in, though, is the self-fulfilling prophecy.
Whether this person turns out to be right or not, whether I end up being this, or that, or not, has nothing to do with what they said at all. And I find that I don’t even care whether they were right or wrong about me. That’s their problem.
I guess the point of this post is to say how surprised I am at how little I care about such things now, despite me having cared excessively in the past. LOL
I am sleepy today, and my brain feels like it’s somewhere else.
Sometimes, something happens in the mind between sleeping and waking and we remember our dreams. When these dreams are neutral or pleasant or even wacky it’s okay, but when they are sad or scary or disturbing or angry or so blindingly life-like that the pain in your heart/head/gut when you wake up and those tears on your pillow are (really) real, disorientation occurs, and sleep loses its restorative effect.
At times likes this I feel that sleep is a complete waste of time.
But it’s not like I can accurately predict what my mind will conjure up tonight when I’m asleep so I guess I’ll just have to live with it.
There is but a thin line between dreams and reality.
It would seem that certain events/things I’ve trapped at the back of my mind have finally tunneled to the surface and are beginning to invade the conscious mindscape. Not a good sign. Is the fortress crumbling already or is it still standing? Perhaps it’s just a December thing.
(btw, water is a restorative, and Inception rocks.)
Playing music keeps one young.
Many musicians look younger than expected!
*on the right track*
Consider the word RAILS.
To most people, it might mean the metal line-things trains run on.
To a few of you, it might be your current pet project/headache/obsession of the webapp kind.
To one or two of you, it might be something you do when peeved…
NYC looks like an awesome place. The tall buildings, the crowds of people, the museums, the traffic… =] I must visit someday.
Looking at EC’s photos on Facebook also made me realise something else… that looking good doesn’t have to take a lot of effort or money, and is definitely achievable, even by little me. =] And that a little bit of eyeliner goes a long way… =] it’s nice. Perhaps I’ll be more hardworking and put in more effort to look nice from now on… LOL.
Jus’ sayin’, y’know?
You have a beautiful smile.
Your smile lights up the day with happiness. It brings warmth on a cold day, and is youthfully refreshing on a hot day. I love your smile.
You have a beautiful mind.
It’s full of the most exciting ideas and beautiful words. It is unique and creative and has a great sense of humour. It knows breadth and depth. It is logical. It does not oversimplify. It appreciates beauty, and the grand scheme of things. I love your mind.
You have a beautiful body.
You are in great health. You are fit and sturdy. Your strong shoulders are a dock, your arms a safe harbour. You are lean, yet there is only strength to be found in the lines of your body. I love your body.
You have a beautiful heart.
It is big. You do things with the purest of intentions. Your heart is in everything you do. You are capable of great love and feeling. Your heart sings.
p.s. it’s true.
I shouldn’t think about it anymore.
The conclusion is that I didn’t do well.
Aww… aren’t these sweet!
I especially like the happy snail and ghost!