Friday, April 07, 2006
Blue, the tinge which colours the cleanest white and deepest black.
nicely done.
i've got tickets to the Rugby Sevens and a play tomorrow at the Esplanade.
i wish it'll always stay the penultimate day but never the ultimate. so i can always linger in the slight thrill of anticipation. the act of fulfilment isn't at all fulfilling if it comes too soon and sudden. Burst Joy's grape, and it's over before you know it. Hong's drawing inspiration from songs, that which lyrics can express what the heart fails many a time to do. For me? i'm drawing inspiration from the poetry and books from my literature modules.
Songs do charm their way into our hearts by way of negotiating words for us. But as Keats says, the station of half-knowing, half-articulating and half-expressing proves more valuable than when you try to attach words to them.
1. you never really pinpoint the essence of what your trying to express.
2. but when you do, the mystery is lost.
Silence is best i think. The air tremors with profound thoughts but never gives way to translation. And I sit there in beautiful peaceful silence knowing his wordless presence brings more than words can say. Joyce Lim unzipped at 7:51 PM with 1 comments
Comments:
in the beginning there was the word - and the impossibility of complete silence followed after.
but i think heaven was wordless when God Himself broke death's curse.
that day during lit class i came across this line in a poem: "i am dying too slowly" and it made me wonder whether i am actually living or dying at this very moment.
then eternal life becomes quite awesome, eh.
lub dear
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but i think heaven was wordless when God Himself broke death's curse.
that day during lit class i came across this line in a poem: "i am dying too slowly" and it made me wonder whether i am actually living or dying at this very moment.
then eternal life becomes quite awesome, eh.
lub dear
