This is a poem about rain,
not you,
so you will forgive me
if I only refer to you in the oblique,
between the L-shaped sounds
of water,
shadowy places,
and a cerise sky.
when the night is deep
you are out on the streets
and I’m waiting for sleep,
I send out rain
to follow you,
lopsidedly, as if a kind
ghost, as if through an
you were seeing
sand at a slant.
So if I open the window a little,
swaying against glass,
test the air
for a possibility of rain,
perhaps you will forget
how, sometimes,
rain is complicated,
rain can break you if it wants.
Who knew, one night
rain under streetlamps
would aspire to the condition
of glow-worms?
This rain is a letter,
how it pulses through,
angling words
out of the slow scent of raw earth,
sudden lights.
But this poem is rain,
on you.

C.S. Bhagya, “On Rain”  (via larmoyante)

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Love this omg!! <3 aahaha

#michael jackson




As children, we flinch at the sight of blood not yet realizing it means family, loyalty, and is the essence of life. But for all its virtue, there is the unavoidable reality that blood is often the child of pain, and a violent reminder that anything can be taken away in the blink of an eye

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Love makes of each moment an eternity
And tends the garden of the heart’s desire
When love mocks, ruby tears fall heavy as pomegranates
And when love looks, it sees your deepest mystery.
Love seeks out the tears of hidden hearts
And turns not from the Lovers of the Dawn.
Is there a remedy for the pain of love?
Or is it too unbearable for thought?
One taste of the medicine
And you will realise just how sick you have been.
Those who plead in the defence of love
In love’s judgement shall find grace
And to that court,
May your heart fly…

Even after all this time
The sun never says to the earth,
“you owe me.”
Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky.

Note: i’ve just discovered the poems of Hafiz of Shiraz, i wholeheartedly agree with Edward Fitzgerald when he said Hafiz is a musician with words. :”)

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#hafiz of shiraz


#love poem


To influence a person is to give him one’s own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else’s music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one’s nature perfectly—that is what each of us is here for.

People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to one’s self. Of course, they are charitable. They feed the hungry and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it. The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion—these are the two things that govern us.

And yet I believe that if one man were to live out his life fully and completely, were to give form to every feeling, expression to every thought, reality to every dream—I believe that the world would gain such a fresh impulse of joy that we would forget all the maladies of mediaevalism, and return to the Hellenic ideal— to something finer, richer than the Hellenic ideal, it may be. But the bravest man amongst us is afraid of himself.

The mutilation of the savage has its tragic survival in the self-denial that mars our lives. We are punished for our refusals. Every impulse that we strive to strangle broods in the mind and poisons us. The body sins once, and has done with its sin, for action is a mode of purification. Nothing remains then but the recollection of a pleasure, or the luxury of a regret. The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself, with desire for what its monstrous laws have made monstrous and unlawful. It has been said that the great events of the world take place in the brain. It is in the brain, and the brain only, that the great sins of the world take place also.

- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

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#the picture of dorian gray



#Oscar Wilde

A time for us

A time for us someday there’ll be
When chains are torn by courage born of a love that’s free
A time when dreams so long denied
Can flourish as we unveil the love we now must hide

A time for us at last to see
A life worthwhile for you and me

And with our love through tears and thorns
We will endure as we pass surely through every storm
A time for us someday there’ll be
A new world, a world of shining hope for you and me

A time for us at last to see
A life worthwhile for you and me

And with our love through tears and thorns
We will endure as we pass surely through every storm
A time for us someday there’ll be
A new world, a world of shining hope for you and me

#a time for us


"Selfish-Gene" vs Group evolution

There are those who argue that altruism is evidence for group type evolution as opposed to “selfish-gene” type evolution. However, further readings seem to suggest that what is at first seen as altruism is actually a selfishness in the guise of love. Take for example a type of calling bird who flies off in the trees when there is predator. Usually, there is a bird to gives off the warning call and the rest of the flock flies into the trees to safety, so I guess, you’d ask “why attract attention to yourself to save the group, isn’t this evidence for group selection?” But what the bird is trying to do is actually far from altruistic. If he flies off into the trees alone, he’s temporarily increasing his domain of danger, and predators like hawk have also been known to go for the odd bird out, but the bird can’t just continue feeding on the ground and be sitting ducks (no pun intended) for the predator either, so the only way to save himself would be to fly off into the trees, but make the rest of the flock fly off with him also! 

Another example being: The stotting gazelle who jumps so ostentatiously to the point of provocation. These gazelles look as though they are inviting the predator’s attention to themselves to save the group. However, the idea of stotting, far from being a warning signal to the group is actually a signal to the predator. If put roughly in English would be saying: Look at how high I can I can jump, look at how fit and healthy I am, it would be difficult to catch me compared to the others, so why don’t you go catch some other member of the herd instead? 
And indeed, predators usually look for prey that is easier to catch to avoid their energy output in catching the prey to be far more then the nutrition received in eating it (topic for another day). So the gene for jumping high and ostentatiously is unlikely to be eaten by predators, propagating itself through to future generations. An individual who is jumping high is in fact advertising in an exaggerated way that he is neither old nor unhealthy. And the display is also FAR FROM ALTRUISTIC since his primary purpose is to convince the predator to chase someone else. 

The theory of the “selfish gene” who seems to put up a much more convincing argument as opposed to the group evolution.


Could materialism be a vestigial characteristic – a behavioural pattern that has lost most of their ancestral function? You could make some inferences about a man’s character if you know the condition in which he has survived and prospered: Given that the industrial revolution only began in the late 1700s, where “for the first time in history the living standards for the masses of ordinary people begun to undergo sustained growth.” (Robert E Lucas, Jr), this meant for a vast expanse of human history, the rich were more likely to have a larger pool of surviving offsprings. In addition, for a significant period of human existence, women still relied on men to be bread winners in the family, it goes without saying that those who married the richer men were likely to have more surviving offspring than those who married poorer men. And if we subscribe to Dawkins theory of the selfish gene, “we are but survival machines – robot vehicles blindly programmed to preserve the selfish molecules known as genes”, and the gene for materialism secures its own perpetuation by the simple unconscious expedient of blind faith in the power of money.

Although times have changed and women no longer has to rely on men to provide for them, it could be argued that the genes that codes for this materialistic behaviour is still within us? For you see, individuals are fleeting, put our lifespan in the context of a day, and we are dewdrops on a leaf that evaporates by mid morning. However, genes are the denizens of geological time: genes are forever. They are the replicators and it still serves their purpose to encourage their survival machines to engage in acts that would further their survival chances.

Even a seemingly reasonable explanation for materialistic behaviour does not make it any less deplorable.  Money grabbing behaviour often provokes condescension and derision from the men who are the target of gold diggers. Men who are looking for a long-term relationship would not settle for one of these gold diggers, because you don’t fall in love with something you could buy. A love potential is generated when you see something that you want but do not yet possess, however, if you could buy the object of your desire, your sub-conscious would not enter the actual state of falling in love. Therefore, the question is: is materialistic behaviour even relevant in today’s society, should we attempt to upset the design of the selfish genes?

As an entire species, it may be the case that we carry the gene for materialism within us. However, as humans, with a life span of less than a century, we are not programmed to understand the grand design of our immortal selfish genes. At a personal level, humans still long for condolence and consolation, acts that give us a nice warm feeling inside.  The idea of someone having a relationship with you simply for your material possession is more likely to freeze your insides with the chill of indignation.

Witnessing how relationships in the 21st century has happily taken on that edge of distasteful superficiality, being with people for only what they can offer you. Wanting to climb up that social ladder even it meant stepping on other below you. And here is where I say that we can override biology with free will, and it is also important to understand that genetic programming of our lives not fully deterministic, it is statistical. Just because we are programmed to be selfish and advance our own position in life with a probability of X, it doesn’t mean that we have to go out and act that way.

Unlike the expression of phenotypes by genes, where nuturing could play no part to affect the colour of one’s eyes, or one’s race for example, nurturing could still in large affect one’s behavioural patterns. “Let us try to teach generosity and altruism, because we are born selfish. Let us understand what our own selfish genes are up to, because we may at least have the chance to upset their designs, something that no other species has ever aspired to do” (Richard Dawkins).





Doesn’t it leave you breathless at times how much faith people put in one another? So fragile this social contract; we will all stand by the rules, move with care and gentleness, invest in infrastructure, agree with the penalties of failure.

That a man driving his truck down the street won’t on a whim angle into the plate glass and end things. That the president won’t let his hand hover over the red button and in a moment of rage or weakness explode the world.

The invisible tissue of civilisation; so thin, so easily torn, it’s a miracle it exists at all. 

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?—To die,—to sleep,— 
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,—’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die,—to sleep;— 
To sleep: perchance to dream:—ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despis’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,— 
The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,—puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

I chose to post this quote not because it’s the most well known soliloquy in the English language. But because it is Hamlet’s most logical and powerful examination about the legitimacy of suicide in a world that is unberably painful. In posing the decision of whether or not to commit suicide as a logical question, he weighs the moral ramfications of living versus that of dying: would it be more noble to suffer life or to end the suffering but having to deal with the uncertainty that the afterlife might bring…And in this aspect, it is a line of questioning that strikes a chord somewhere deep within us all. 

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Amor, ch’al cor gentile ratto s’apprende
prese costui de la bella persona
che mi fu tolta; e ‘l modo ancor m’offende.

Amor, che a nullo amato amar perdona,
Mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,
Che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona…

Love, which quickly arrests the gentle heart,
Seized him with my beautiful form
That was taken from me, in a manner which still grieves me.

Love, which pardons no beloved from loving,
took me so strongly with delight in him
That, as you see, it still abandons me not…

#dante alighieri



What do you think Antonioni's Blow-Up and Kurosawa's Rashomon have in common? And how does the thai movie The Outrage compare to them? Just curious about ur point of view:)

You’re referring to the 1950s movie Rashomon? I haven’t watched Antonioni’s blow up, so I can’t give you a comparison on that. But the Thai movie “The Outrage” is supposedly a remake of Kurosawa’s Rashomon. Certainly, you can see the similarities between them, but the Thai version has elements of Thai culture in it mainly from the concepts of Buddhism (or at least that was what I was told, I am in no way well versed enough in Buddhists concepts, so I will refrain from commenting on that aspect). However, even without that, both movies provides not only a number of insights into the human mind but, while doing so, is also able to question the nature of truth itself. 

The three different versions of the robber’s attack is given equal weights in both movies, so it can be shown that people can perceive the same physical occurrences in radically different ways. Whether the film’s characters, and human beings generally, merely interpret what they have seen or done according to their own opinions and assumptions about the world or transform the events themselves, molding them into whatever new narratives are required for their emotional well-being, their differing representations are not overt lies, that is, representations known by the given person telling them to be untrue, but can be, in fact, accurate reflections of that person’s understanding of the events he has witnessed. Each person interprets the events occurring to him as colored by his own often selfish perspectives so that whatever wrongs are committed are always done by others and never by himself. 

That I think is the main takeaway and similarity from both “The Outrage” and Rashomon.


What happens when the person you’d take the bullet for is the one holding the gun in the first place?

"But then again, I don’t think i could have loved you so much if you had nothing to complain about and nothing to regret. I don’t like people who have never fallen or stumbled. Their virtue is lifeless and of little value. life hash’t revealed its beauty to them"

What if you had allowed the one person who truly understands you walk out of your life? Afraid of being left behind, you chose to walk away first. But in doing so, you had destroyed a part of yourself that you never knew you had. When one has suffered a great hurt, there was always a weakness afterward, a vulnerability where there had once been wholeness, strength and innocence. 

Even if you miss him, there is nothing to be done about it, because what good does it do to stay locked in memories of the past. While your head tells you to move on, your heart stubbornly dwells in the realm of memories, sustaining a love long gone. Feelings don’t die easily because we keep feeding them with memories and that is precisely why its so hard to move on. 

Now, you find it so much easier to keep relationships on a superficial level, but trying to hold others away take so much effort. It is tiring to keep smiling when on the inside you see a great expanse of nothing but an impenetrable darkness. 

Wanting to reach out but not knowing how… Even when you feel there is the start of something new, you’re too afraid to try…

Regret is a good friend isn’t it? It will always stand by your side when every other friend has left you, and in the face of reason it will always stay by you and even when you tell it, “i’m moving on, now”, it tells you, “I’ll never leave your side, ever”

Whenever you thought that you could not feel more alone, the universe peels back another layer of darkness, you start to realise that it’s the one you love most who can lift you up in an instant and also destroy you without trying. 

Need everything to just end.

It’s time to stop.


Sometimes you encase yourself in a cocoon of loneliness, preferring to isolate yourself from the world, distancing yourself from others. Yet, there are those around them who try and perturb this bubble that the you have sealed yourself into. They try to include themselves into this solitary existence that you have chosen and then go mad due to the silence and lack of social contact. They start wondering why you have chosen to live like this, and why don’t you try to live with others, and lead a normal existence for once. Why build walls and live trapped in your own mind, keeping others away, and refusing to let anyone get closer? These nosy people then try to break that cocoon and make you explore the outside world, but they don’t know that you are not ready to emerge from that cocoon yet, and early exposure to the elements that you are not yet prepared to handle, would just lead to an early death for you.

What’s it going to take for them realise that you don’t need their help, and you’re fine being on your own. You don’t like them trying to integrate themselves into your life, and then trying to change you and turn you into someone else?

But you’ve gotten so used to living in your bubble that the outside world is just too loud, too busy, and just too much for your senses to handle all at once. And you also know that forcing yourself to break that cocoon would lead into a nervous breakdown. You just shrivel and start fervently wishing that those people would leave you alone. Because you get even more tired trying to keep them away, and explaining your situation would do no good, given that these people have their own pre-concieved notions about how someone should live. That’s why you start thinking that it’s always better not to have friends if your character can do without them, because friends inevitably turn into a nuisance. Unless your friends have the heart to let people exists according to whatever character they may possess, you really rather that people stay away, and leave you be, to tend to your scars and heal in the way that you know how.

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