When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same
'Cause nothin' lasts forever
And we both know hearts can change
And it's hard to hold a candle
In the cold November rain
Siren's Song
Sunday, February 01, 2004
Has anyone ever noticed how very similar, yet totally different, the words "crave" and "craven" are?
Main Entry: crave
Pronunciation: 'krAv
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): craved; crav·ing
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English crafian; akin to Old Norse krefja to crave, demand
transitive senses
1 : to ask for earnestly : BEG, DEMAND 2 a : to want greatly : NEED b : to yearn for intransitive senses : to have a strong or inward desire synonym see DESIRE
Main Entry: cra·ven
Pronunciation: 'krA-v&n
Function: adjective
Etymology: Middle English cravant
1 archaic : DEFEATED, VANQUISHED
2 : lacking the least bit of courage : contemptibly fainthearted
synonym see COWARDLY
Which brings to mind what a prof said about sibling species - an uncanny likeness in form, yet distant enough genetically to constitute two separate species.
Scientific allusions aside, the relationship (or the lack of one) between "crave" and "craven" struck me when I finished reading a book on natural history. It always happens. When it comes to procrastination, I am Queen. I can think about everything under the sun or moon or clouds or sky. OK, nearly everything other than the matter at hand. The thought of writing a term paper lingers at the back of my head like an oversized tumour, but I refuse to acknowledge its existence.
Ignorance can be blistering. Pui.
Ah, I digressed. Can one crave for something, but is too craven to go after it?
In the light of what I crave for now, I better be craven. Morbid as usual, I crave for nothing more than to escape from this suffocating reality, to seek comfort in sweet tendentious surrealism, and to soar, free in the night sky under the stars, prancing and preening around on puffy clouds. God knows what I'll do if a glass ceiling of cravenness isn't there to stop me from leaping into outer space.
Maybe I'm an emotional Peter Pan, refusing to conform (and maybe incapable of conforming) to conventional definitions of adulthood. In any case I've got this serious urge to bail. I am craven. Gone are the days when I-got-hit-by-a-truck-and-I-dared-it-to-hit-me again attitude dominate. I am craven, a lil solitary raven, and huff and gasp for air.
Do you always find yourself groping for some good poetry or song in the aftermath of any stressful episode, reading or listening to it like you'd take a painkiller, or maybe an antibiotic? I first heard this particular song in Faye Wong's album way back in Sec 4.
Every time I listen to this song, images of a solitary figure draped in a white flowing cloak strolling down the pristine sandy beach comes into mind. On the left would be a mass of dense verdant growth, shades of green and grey under a blanket of shadow. It actually appears a lil sad. On the right is an undulating spread of liquid emerald and aquamarine, reflecting splashes of bright light that resembles an artist's stylish strokes. A big big orange of various hues, cool and softened at the edges, rests just above the horizon.
The cape slips, revealing the lady's fair countenance and glorious locks of hair. She looks wistfully into the distance, and smiles poignantly.
I wonder what happens after we discard our mortal shell and leave our earthly abode. Is there the slightest chance that we'll move on to live in our dreams, like going through a video-tape replayed over and over again?
Morbid. Why did I even link death with something so beautiful? Maybe, just maybe, only in the name of death do we know the true name of love.
Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps.
Do you sometimes have the feeling that daydreams and castles in the sky are not much different from classic fairy tales popularized by Disney and Dreamworks? We do not know anything about events that occurred prior to the scenes played on screen. We do not know what exactly "they lived happily ever after" entails. Did the cartoon characters go through school? Have they ever done anything naughty? How did Rapunzel wash her hair and keep it tangle-free? Where is my Peter Pan who will take me to Never Never Land? Or am have I already gone past the age limit for entry into that magical world?
Just as he can't read my mind, I can't read his. If he doesn't tell me what's troubling him, I'll automatically have to assume that something that I've done have affected him adversely.
Today's been a bad day. I've been at the receiving end of every blow from almost everyone. *smiles* Does anyone know how something in me had been pried open like a giant spiky durian - the innards sucked clean and seeds strewn all over? *smiles with tears*
I really am not very strong. I've said it countless times and I'll say it again: I'm a broken rag doll. Very broken.
May God have mercy on doctors, for hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Blahdee hell the doc today was an asshole.
Why do we always have to take something at face value? On the other hand, why do we sometimes not? It's all about the perfect timing. And I happen, almost inevitably, always at the wrong place at the wrong time.
He likes to ask "Why?" But today he did not. I knew what was bothering him and I tried my best not to change anything. It took a while to force back those shiny globules back to where they came from. Yet there are times when I actually do have sensible, tangible and cogent reasons for doing, or rather, not doing certain things. And when I do not have one ready, I would gladly admit that I don't. But the period of stoic silence today was purely to hold back tears.
Of course, certain names will strike certain awful chords of memory and cause one helluva clamorous confusion and associated mood swings. Link. Connection. Domino effect. Sometimes I wonder if his recollection might dig up certain scenes of the past I rather delete from my neuronal cache, throwing me back into a thick gossamer of bad dreams that I've took ages to disentangle myself from.
I wonder when I'll start weeping blood tears. *smiles*
