Tuesday, August 01, 2006
I realised many people like to write their blogs in point form. I dunno, maybe it's a guy thing, like doing things the systematic way and stuff like this. But I don’t. I realize girls on the other hand write long long passages that go on and on about their lives, and I realize I like to write it the way they do. I dunno why. Perhaps it’s just the way I think and stuff. Sometimes remotely innate I find myself a little girlish, not in the sense as of metrosexuals as in the way they dress and care about themselves and things like this, but the way I think, the way I feel about people, about relationships and about everything else. Even my girlfriend says it sometimes.
I would pretty much like to think of myself as a little sensitive guy, but sometimes the guy in me emerges and takes over. I feel split. Like sometimes I can feel so strongly about this issue yet a switch in time frame and I become passive and don’t bother. Sometimes I can think so much, yet sometimes my mind just lets me down and makes me like I’m some insensitive jerk. You know right now it’s supposed to be office time but I just feel such a strong urge to write something down, before the feeling is gone. Even if I’ve to go through the trouble of typing it in MS word and later transferring it to a computer with internet access, I don’t mind. See, things like this rarely happen to guys. I mean generally guys are more logical and systematic in their thinking, but me, rely a hell lot on feelings.
I just received this mail urging us to donate blood to save this poor little recruit. Normally blood donation is never something that lingers more that 3 seconds in my mind, but somehow I feel differently today. I feel the drive to do things. I feel like if I go for a blood donation I can really do my part, abeit little, for somebody, even if I know him not. I know you think I’m exaggerating. Maybe it’s just an impulse, maybe it’ll be gone soon. I dunno…
I just finished this book. It’s titled Norwegian Wood, which is actually a piece by the Beatles. Not that the title has any bearing or particular significance to the plot. Somehow this book has a fierce attraction towards me. I mean if there’s one book I can go reading on and on and on even though I can choose to do something like work to lessen my load tomorrow, choose to sleep and recuperate whatever I lost last night being on duty. It’s really the first time something like this happened to me, when the book managed to captivate me so much, suck my soul and eat me inside out. and come to think of it this book is like randomly, ok maybe not that casual but with perhaps no intention at all to get a book. First thing I noticed about the book is I could really connect with it, just by browsing through I can see I could like certain parts of the book, though unsure about the rest. It’s really great. The book brings me back to school, back to common society, and takes me away from army. It’s different. People’s thoughts in school and society are more varied. Much more to interpret and think about. In army, minds are corrupted. I don’t mean it in the diry way. I used to like deep thinking people. Ok maybe not like but some kind of strange admiration. Used to get things like “you’re a deep one” from some friends but I guess I’m no longer the same. Same for some of the people I used to think were deep. I dunno why, something’s just missing. I mean I used to think pretty a lot in the past but nowadays I just breeze through.
Back to the book. It’s really a wonderful piece of work. I love novels. I dunno why but I’m probably not those sort who can read philosophy or history. I like stories, stories that I could relate to, stories that’s close to me. When I read, I just get sucked into the book. I can literally see the scene portrayed in the book, feel the characters around me, see their feelings and see the whole picture. I can even feel the character, become him and fear when he’s scared, rejoice when he’s glad, and come really close to crying when he’s devastated. I dunno why I don’t cry. When I was reading this book I feel really sad. But I just won’t cry. Hey why do I keep going to myself? The book’s really interesting cos the characters are experiencing the same stage of life we are at. College and university, just that they’ve no national service. Relationships and stuff, but something more, illness and death. It’s really troubling to read about these themes, and you can’t help but feel sorry that your life is so much more smooth sailing. What I admire is also the protagonist’s attitude towards life, where he isn’t bothered about what people thinks of him, but yet at the same time he do the rightest things. I can’t do that. I’m pretty bothered by what others think of me, even though I didn’t want to be.
Quote from the book: death exist, not as the opposite but as a part of life.
Basically it just says that death is not a separate entity, but is in fact in life itself. I’m sure I need not say more. It’s quite self-explanatory.
