Friday, November 18, 2005

if i die.

I don't know what you think about death. I don't know what you make of death. But only a mindless imbecile has not thought about it, especially that of his own. And only deeply religious people and liars claim that they're not afraid of dying.

I'm no longer as scared as before about the notion of dying, but I'm just like everyone else in the sense that I'm afraid to have not lived fully, to have not experienced what the world has to offer, I don't want to lie on my deathbed fretting about the things I could have done, things I should have done. And that's only if I'm allowed the malicious gift of hindsight. I could die any minute: car accident from jay-walking, choked to death on a fishball, a burst spleen from over-eating, whatever.

The aim therefore, is to banish any possible or lingering regrets that might be arise from unaccomplished matters. So I have a rough checklist of "Things I want to do before my life comes to a sorry end", which ranges from the dreadfully mundane to impossible floaty air-castles. Part of it includes the following:

I've loads more actually, but I'm a tad embarrassed about writing them down here. It more or less amounts to a fair bit of my ambition too. If you don't succeed and you're not half-dead from your own disappointment, widespread humiliation in the form of public knowledge that you have failed, will surely do the trick. Uhhh, and yes, if you haven't noticed, I'm sinfully proud and quite a perfectionist. But that second bit comes along with the whole 'musician' bit. It's just a characteristic trait that most musicians have. If I'm not wrong, quite a number of them suffer from OCD too. But I'm veering off-track once more.

By now, most of us would have come in some form of contact with Death, the shadowy grim reaper with large white wings. I'm very fortunate that my first personal experience occurred pretty late in my life. That was my dog, Lucky, in JC2. That, and other close encounters involving my family members later in life, made me realize that Death is not something that is remote, inanimate, or static - it is the people who are left behind who are living the ripples of the death throes. Until time recasts your memories and cripples your pain, Death is a way of Life. It took me this long to learn something so explicitly simple, I can be such a stubborn air-head at times.

I try not to forget that Death and Misfortune are always lurking lavisciously behind my shoulder, and not to take anything that I have for granted. But the drudgery of daily life and blind routine have a way of juxtaposing themselves on top of one another in mad layers, and everything else in your mind sinks to the bottom, taking on a faint chiaroscuro tinge against a white background. However, Music always reminds me of my fragility, and I'm oppressively conscious of the delicate veins that pulse gently beneath my transculent skin. Most of the composers whose music I listen to are lying six feet under the ground, but their music lives on till today, and they are rebirthed in us, and recreated in our modern context. I too, want to leave a legacy behind after my death: be it in the form of music, documents or in friends' memories, I want to be remembered. Ah, the Ego knows no bounds.

Although all these makes me keenly aware of my own mortality, it only serves to reaffirm vividly that I am living now at this time and place, and this apparent dialectic struggle between the two, are really complementary to each other. It's up to all of us, to make the most of what we have, while we're still living on the borrowed time of Youth, aye?

I've been very chatty tonight, it's probably due to the sugar-high from Sainsbury's Quadruple Chocolate Chip Cookies. (Scoffed the whole box in one sitting, it's winter - I have an excuse!) Before I embark on my rousing peroration, if I do die, please have these songs played at my funeral:

I wanted to add more songs but I figured the funeral would have ended long before the Mozart quartets. But you guys would stay till that long at least? It'd be my last-ditch attempt to convert people to the Classical Music camp. In any case, everyone is to come to my funeral armed with a bar of chocolate for me to eat in the afterlife. But please, no caramel. Or I'd haunt you. Same goes if you don't attend or turn up without a chocolate bar.

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

beethoven makes the world go round!
i really should be doing my 3 schenker graphs for ...
a quickie because i feel like it.
it's all been done.
headache.
and it all fuses together.
panicking.
it's always MY fault, innit?
it's been long in coming.
do you make your own fortune?

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

And there were phlegmatic souls.