normalcy or no-rmalcy

how does one know what normal is when one does not have any basis of reference for feeling anything outside of one's consciousness and body?

for instance, yesterday, an ex colleague and I realised we both feel the same heart palpitations that affect us when sleeping. i used to think it was 'normal' or something that would go away, and so did she. But it has not, for years. It is only then that we realised that what we thought was normal is not normal at all. And this can well apply to any area of our lives—our thoughts, our actions, our feelings. Kinda scary huh?

And then another colleague was discussing another ex colleague and how she thought she was weird (ie. not normal), but stressed that she was "good weird". Again, what is this in reference to? the majority? the majority could be fuckin weird, and she could in fact be the normal one. hate such remarks. but maybe my threshold for weird is just very high. i dont know.

the point(s) of it all

between here and there, this and that, starts and ends, life and death, it's only fair to ask—what's the point? what's the point of it all? the point is, quite literally a point, or many points on a line. each point leaving an indelible mark on the places we have been, people we have met, lives we have touched, love we have given and received, and societies we have shaped in ways big and small—their sum total making a ripple and reverberating through time, time and space that ultimately survives us.

ssssisters

today, i hung out with a 19 year old and a 24 year old.
it's nice to be around youthful energy. makes me feel young, and old, at the same time.
but i guess more young then old. youth is infectious?
we bonded over the fact that we are all single, scoliosis-suffering, and star sign-believing.
sweet young things. could well take them as the sisters i never had.

to hell with 'open to interpretation'

they like to leave art 'open to interpretation'.
poetry too.
works of art in general.
fuck that.
i have always had an issue with that.
i don't want to interpret, that will just be reinforcing my own perspective.
what then is the point of seeing something new? encountering something different and fresh?
i want to know what the artist had in mind, the precise thoughts and feelings and intentions that were poured into the creation of the work.
that will mean much much more,
than simply, lazily, sloppily asking people to interpret stuff. no?

rumblings on a Friday night

humans are weak
therefore stringent measures are needed
freedom may not necessarily be a good thing
there are good freedoms, and then there are bad freedoms
sometimes, we just need our choices to be made for us
for this, i think singapore comes close to being a utopia
and i do not say this with disillusion or a kind of naive optimism
i say it sincerely and i believe it so to be, all things considered.

listening

how very difficult it is to listen
to truly, fully, unyieldingly listen
to not just others, but most importantly our inner voice, and our bodies
to tune into them amidst the torrents of everyday life
and ask questions, reflect, and then prescribe a way of soothing these voices which are there but rarely heard.
like mary oliver said "attention is the beginning of devotion".
then, listening must surely be the beginning of attention.

meditations

there is the act of meditation, and then there are meditations.