The two paths that diverged.

I was riding the bus home one day, when I was thinking about what some of my friends and family have been talking to me about. It was then I saw two mental images. This wasn't some sort of magical epiphany, where I physically see images that aren't actual, but these two images came as ideas.

The first was a old man sitting in a chair, surrounded by children. He told them stories about his past, his dreams, the family that he worked to support, both monetarily and as a father, husband and son. He told them of his once grandiose dream of changing the world. A dream that he, as a young man, cherished beyond anything else. Then, as he grew up, he realised that he would have to sacrifice all that he was brought up to protect. The happiness of his family and the future of his children. It was then that he knew he had to make a choice. He choose to change his dream, to change the world one hand at a time, instead of giving up his humanity to become a driving force. His children grew up, and due to circumstances, were forced to place him in an old folk's home. Still, he was proud of them, and is at peace with the fact that he lived a life of fulfilment.

The second was that of an aging man, in an expensive tailored suit, in a large office. He sits by the window of this office on the 43rd floor of a building in the middle of a roaring city, in the dark, alone. The world revolves around him. Without the things he has done, the world would not be the way it is, for better or for worse. He has changed the world. But now, when it was all said and done, here he sat, with only a glass of scotch for company, and a lonely home to return to. As a boy, he decided to change the world. Everything else; love, peace, friends, were all irrelevant. How can the emotional fulfilment of one man be put before the advancement of the mankind? Mankind before man, that was his mantra. His will had been strong as steel, and his love for the world drove him to sell his life for what he believed in, a new world. Now, he sat, his work finished, what did he have left? Was it worth it? Mankind before man. Yes, it was.

These two men are, in fact, one and the same. Pretty sure you guessed it already, though. The only difference between them is one decision. How one choice can change the person you are. Now, I find myself empathising with both men, and find myself with a choice of my own.

Which one will I become?

The present is the future, all in time.
-Gabe

My Dream

The reason I've been putting this post off even though I have had it brewing in my mind for far too long now is that I think I was afraid of the implications of what I was saying. Beyond that, the implications behind those implications.

With regards to the title of this post, I have many dreams. Dreams of grandeur, prosperity, happiness, a life where I will be surrounded by loved ones. Beg your pardon for being sappy and idealistic. However, there is one that is not only the first, but currently, is the strongest force within the repository of my psyche. It nags at my processes, sometimes disturbing my thoughts. That is the one to build a home.

Now, many people live in houses, in condominiums, apartments, townhouses, cabins, ships, and the like. However, even those with a hovel to return to might not have a home to return to.  You see, dear reader, a house is a building, created with bricks, wood and mortar. A home is a place where one can return to for a brief respite from the world. A place where family gathers and happiness is born. 

Now, contrary to popular belief, these things are mutrally exclusive, that is to say, they can exist apart from each other. Many dwellings exist in this world, where one does not come home to the warmth of a family, but the cold that loneliness is. Some may not have a house, but they are very much at home, with those that are dearest to them. 

More later on, when the time comes...

-Gabe

Minimalism

Not to be confused with the artistic meaning of Minimalism, where the artist does as little as possible, explicitly, while conveying a deep meaning, implicitly, to draw the audience's full attention to the details of the few visible aspects of the piece, be it music or a painting; the minimalism I am talking about is a philosophy that I, myself, live by, because I am selfish, afraid and a miser.

Piqued your interest? Thought so.

The core of minimalism is this: There is enough in this universe to see to man's needs, but not his greed. However, some might argue that there is no arbitrary line where need turns to greed. I beg to differ. Need is defined, by myself, not as the requirements to simply survive, but the desire to obtain whatever is needed to thrive, to provide an environment where mankind's greatest potential may be brought forward. Greed is the desire to obtain for the sake of having it, perhaps simply because he wished to be richer than his fellow man.

It is not need, man's imperitive to thrive, that will bring this world, and the fates of future generations to ruin. It is the greed of man, the wish to hoard and to indulge, because it is not only the depletion of the resources of the world, for it is a given that when man reaches the stars, resources can and will be found elsewhere. However, greed deprives required resources from those that need it, and those who have not the means to survive might be the ones who hold the keys to mankind's advances.

The greatest waste of a life is to go through it without bringing advancement. It does not matter if it is personal, or if it is helping those with potential reach it.

-Gabe

The sword, the world, the hammer...

To those of you whom have me on Facebook, you would probably have read my statuses at one point of time or another. While, they usually do not reflect what I am actually doing, some are glimmers into what goes on in my world. Random thoughts, quotes from media, that sort of thing. Now, one of the more recent ones was:

"I carry the weight of the world on my back, the judge's hammer in my left, and the soldier's sword in my right"

To most of you, these words are probably something of a manifestation of a desire to affirm my masculinity though the symbolic values of each of the objects; men carry the weight of the world, and I put myself in that position to affirm my masculinity. Men fight to protect their homes and families, and so they carry the sword. By projecting an image of myself holding a sword, I might by trying to, yet again, affirm masculinity. Also, swords, according to Freud, are also very phallic symbols. Men are in positions of power, holding the authority to pass judgement onto others, hence the judge's hammer. However, while this is a possible interpretation, the true root of the statement lies not within myself, but my preception of another.

I have two names, Gabriel and Daniel. Now, these names are of biblical origin, and hold meanings in Hebrew. "Gabri-El" means "strong man of God", or interpretable to be "God is my strength". Since ancient times, the sword has been the symbol of strength, hence the sword. "Dan-I-El" means "Judgement of God" or "Judged by God". Hopefully the former, in my case. The judge's emblem is the hammer.  And we all know the story of the man who carried the weight of the world upon His shoulder.

So, by now, all the Christians reading are going, "OOOOOOOH." No, it's not that simple.

You see, I am, I believe, very damned unique. I have yet to meet anyone who is in any shape exactly similar to me. Seriously. There are my friends, people whom I have similar interests, personalities which match, not people who are like me. Probably cause if I were to ever spend time around someone who was exactly like me, I would go crazy.

Having said that, I believe in what I call thinking forward. It's becoming what you think yourself to be. Hence, projecting an image of myself where I am strong enough to support my world, fair and impartial in judgements, and have the strength to carry on in my endeavours, I believe I will one day become that. That's why I put it up.

Remember the lessons of the past, live the challenges of the present, and face the troubles of the future head on!

-Gabe

A place I dream of...

It's been exactly 104 days since I arrived here since my christmas break. It will be roughly 1 year from now that I expect to return for a break. I plan to stay there for the duration of one semester, roughly three and a half months. What I will do with my time here will include learning how to cook properly, hang out with friends, catch up with people that I didn't have time to say hi to , and celebrate my 20th birthday with the best of my friends.

But now, for this one year, I am stuck in college studying, working at a sandwich joint for minimum wage, staying at home and surfing Youtube, and instant messaging my friends back home at 2 in the morning because they're asleep when I'm awake. Yes, I'm wasting away. Not really, but you get the idea. I don't mesh well with the people here, somehow. Most of their activities consist of hanging out at the mall (female), going to the bar to watch the hockey game (male), going to a club (both), and overall not stuff I would do. There's absolutely nothing to do in Canadian malls. They're desolate, I tell you.

So, relating to the title. When I say, "lets go for a drink," I mean, "lets go to a mamak store and grab a few teh tarik." When I say it here, the implication is "Lets go to the bar and grab a few beers." It's a subtle cultural thing. I can't say that bars and beers are bad. But, I do miss having a few friends talking for hours on end, sitting around a crappy, dirty, sticky table, drinking teh tarik, which is dirt cheap, laughing at the one wuss who would order a limau ais because it was 'too hot to have a warm drink'. I miss it all too much. I can see it all now: the noisy environment; the warm air; the laughter; the girls, who would order more than they can eat, give the stuff to the guys; the guys, who were too cheap to buy their own food and leech off their friend's plates; the mamaks who were running about, shouting to each other the orders; a freshly cooked roti telur bawang ghee, a joint creation between a friend and I. There is little I wouldn't give for all that now.

To you whom are not of the LotES, let me clarify a few terms here, mainly the ones you see in italics.

-a mamak is a Muslim South Indian person. Their cuisine is a fusion of Indian roti and malay sambals.

-a teh tarik (lit. pulled tea) is the national drink of the LotES. It consists of breakfast tea and copious amounts of sweetened condensed milk. Since no cold milk is used to cool it down, the tea is rather hot. However, before serving, the tea is 'pulled' by pouring from one glass, raised high, into another, usually about hip level. This not only cools the drink, but introduces air and creates foam.

-a limau ais (lit. iced lime) is a drink where lime juice is mixed with sugar water, and ice is added to cool it down. It is probably the ultimate thirst quencher/cooler.

-roti (lit. bread) is an Indian dish where dough is grilled on a solid, usually cast iron, skillet. It is crunchy and oily. It is usually served with lentil curry (dhal), chicken, fish or mutton curry. In mamak stores, it is also served with sambal, which is a thick paste made from different chilli peppers and other condiments. Telur means egg, and bawang means onion. Ghee is clarified butter, used often in Indian cuisine. Hence, a roti telur bawang ghee is a piece of roti stuffed with eggs, onions and fried in clarified butter.

Man cannot live on roti alone...

-Gabe

Under the blue sky...

Okay, so I'm climbing, nay, clawing my way out of the pit, an unfilled hole in my heart. I'm not, by any means, out of the dark just yet. But I'm getting there. I think I owe all my readers (all 5 of you...) an explaination.

So, I left the Land of the Eternal Summer in June 2008, 2 weeks after I had been released from National Service. Suffice to say that I had left my fair share of loose ends when I left. Didn't have much time to say goodbye to friends, to catch up, anything of that kind. I left a coward, a liar and a traitor.

When I was given 3 weeks to be home in December, I resolved to tie up those loose ends. I went home, called up friends, talked to people, did stuff, payed for a couple of meals, said my goodbyes. It was good. Then I left, thinking that I had finished my duty. I was at peace. For a time.

Now,  I have friends who are very much interested in the fields of Music, Acting and Game Design. However, due to the rampant piracy that is almost legal in my home country, these industries suffer due to lack of revenue. Whilst here, I realised that both these industries boom. I'm only here for an education, while those back home are either going starve doing what they love, or stuck in a dead end job they hate. Either way, I figured that I was a wasting an oppotunity that was better spent on someone else. So, descent.

Add onto that the fact that I have a friend whom I have not seen or spoken to in person for over a year, whom I tried to buy dinner for, but is so damned disorganised that whenever we agree on a day to do something, some unforseen event leaves my plans in ruins, or even forgetting it altogether. That idiot is so disorganised it makes me look like a long-term planner in comparison. I shouldn't be prying, seeing as everyone must live their own lives, but the idiot is leaving all of us worried. 

In the end, I looked up one day and the haze of emotion gave way to an understanding. We're all here, under the same blue sky. It is nothing, and everything, that makes the closest ones feel the furthest, and the furthest ones feel the closest.

The gift of weeping is perhaps the greatest of God's mercies. Happy they who know not the pain of tearless sorrow.

-Gabe

I'm a damned sap

Okay, ever heard a song, a story or something that somehow affects you in ways you in ways that can only be described as emotional? The level of empathy I'm talking is somewhere between living it and being a close relative of a person in a tragedy, who, incidentally, is a created character. I cannot begin to explain how utterly pathetic that is. It frustrates me to have to try and combat all these emotions with reason. Suffice to say that a battle easily, and often, lost. 

 By the time you've gotten to this line, you'd fancy me a wannabe stone-cold bastard. I'm not, really! On one hand, I am, by no stretch of the imagination, a hopeless romantic. However, I haven't a heart of stone, either. I can, and do, empathise with people, fictional or not. It's the degree of this particular bout of empathy that I'm not comfortable with. To lose focus and functionality in other things because of preoccupation with a story is unacceptable to my own standards.

 The worst part about all this is that it forces some things that are best left buried to the surface. You, my dear reader, have, hopefully, no idea what I'm talking about. To those who think they do, shut the hell up. It probably isn’t what you think. Something that I thought I had left buried deep found its way back to the surface. As for why, I blame the aforementioned article. It left me unable to solve simple math equations, and that just ticks the hell out of me.

 Furthermore, I'm left with no one to vent about this to, try as I may. I’m not a person to make friends carelessly, and I keep those I have closer. I live as a walking testament to the people around me who have shaped me. See what your hand have wrought, friends! Inspect your handiwork.

Okay, even after this post, I feel no better than I did when I started. The guy who told me venting online helps is a liar. I have to rethink the whole point of a blog, whether it's to relate my experiences and accompanying thoughts, or it is simply an outlet where I can find respite from the world.

Pain and suffering are the side effects of growth

-Gabe