From now on, this blog will be connected to my Multiply account, http://paisho.multiply.com I know this is another fruitless beginning as always and as usual. However, who knows, maybe this time around, I might be just as diligent in updating that or this, or the other blog of mine. I guess I have said all that I need to say and all of you guys need to know. Until the next time, then.
Thanatos
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Of Pianos and Violins
You know what's interesting about these two instruments? Hm. I know I am not a music critic and that I am far from one, so this one's just kind of out of the blue thinking for me. But what I like about those two is the way they contrast with each other, yet maintaining the harmony and blending required for a harmony to work out.
For me, a piano is a soft instrument. An instrument which relaxes not only the listener, but also the one playing the piece. True, there are really some over-the-top, uber-eccentric music pieces which are too strong even when played on the piano. Nevertheless, the calming effect of the piano is still there, just like the soothing hand of a mother caressing her child. (Okay, so I know I am a bit dramatic there, but still...) This is in definite contrast with that of the violin. A violin is dramatic, romantic and melancholic. Unlike the piano which whispers words to the listener, the violin pleads, begs and makes the listener feel every note of its sorrow or joy. And this, I believe is what makes the violin the most mysterious instrument. It doesn't invite you to share the same feeling the piece has, but rather, it makes you feel it, makes you touch it and takes you deeper than you could ever imagine, whether you like it or not.
Maybe they really are contrasting, given that one is the simple and basic form while the other is the complicated and twisted one. However, despite this big difference, their harmony just can't be equalled. Whether it's about one balancing the other, or just plain blending, I can't really tell. Hmm... maybe opposites really attract, eh?
For me, a piano is a soft instrument. An instrument which relaxes not only the listener, but also the one playing the piece. True, there are really some over-the-top, uber-eccentric music pieces which are too strong even when played on the piano. Nevertheless, the calming effect of the piano is still there, just like the soothing hand of a mother caressing her child. (Okay, so I know I am a bit dramatic there, but still...) This is in definite contrast with that of the violin. A violin is dramatic, romantic and melancholic. Unlike the piano which whispers words to the listener, the violin pleads, begs and makes the listener feel every note of its sorrow or joy. And this, I believe is what makes the violin the most mysterious instrument. It doesn't invite you to share the same feeling the piece has, but rather, it makes you feel it, makes you touch it and takes you deeper than you could ever imagine, whether you like it or not.
Maybe they really are contrasting, given that one is the simple and basic form while the other is the complicated and twisted one. However, despite this big difference, their harmony just can't be equalled. Whether it's about one balancing the other, or just plain blending, I can't really tell. Hmm... maybe opposites really attract, eh?
Clearing Up
In case you're wondering why all of the previous posts in here has the signature of 'Thanatos', don't worry, it's still me. It's just the 'other me'. So you better get used to 'him'. Yeah, Thanatos is definitely a guy. Hmm... so to clear things up, posts with the signature of my dearest Thanatos are mainly concentrated on things from a deeper, darker point of view. While those others that do not bear his signature will be the lighter, wackier side of me ranting about things, complaining about this and that or maybe rambling about things that are way beyond this world.. Okay, so I guess I've made my point clear. Until next time, then.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Awoken
Yes, I am here again... awoken from my deep slumber. Aah, it has been a while since I have put my thoughts into writing... since I have last touched a pen and laid out bare the ideas lurking in my head. Honestly, I also wonder why. Most of the time, I ask myself, "Why can't I write just like everyone else?", "Why can't the words come to me as easily as they come to other people?", "Why can't I find the right words to convey what I think?" To tell the truth, I ENVY those people who could write. Those people who don't need to press the Backspace button every once in a while... those people who can write easily as if putting thoughts into writing is merely breathing in air... those people who live to write.
I remember once in a seminar, our keynote speaker said, "Some are born to express themselves in writing... and some in other ways..." Though at first I didn't agree with him, now that I think of it, maybe, he is right after all. Maybe the ability to write something coherent and striking is really inborn and not developed... maybe it really is a talent and not a mere skill which anybody could learn if he strives hard enough.
*sigh* I really ENVY them. If only we are given the chance to pick our talents just before we were born... if only we could edit our skills and abilities, then maybe I wouldn't be this depressed over something so trivial. Oh damn. I hate this life of mine.
I remember once in a seminar, our keynote speaker said, "Some are born to express themselves in writing... and some in other ways..." Though at first I didn't agree with him, now that I think of it, maybe, he is right after all. Maybe the ability to write something coherent and striking is really inborn and not developed... maybe it really is a talent and not a mere skill which anybody could learn if he strives hard enough.
*sigh* I really ENVY them. If only we are given the chance to pick our talents just before we were born... if only we could edit our skills and abilities, then maybe I wouldn't be this depressed over something so trivial. Oh damn. I hate this life of mine.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
My Personality Disorder Test Results
| Personality Disorder Test Results
|
personality tests by similarminds.com
Can you believe that?!
Thanatos
Saturday, June 21, 2008
With Wings Open
'It's funny how one can think and say things about something without ever knowing what they really hide. Prejudices, impressions and conclusions... these are all things that we people think carelessly--without ever seeing beyond the facade that is presented to us.' This is what I realized after a particular 'something' spread its wings in front of me... and that's the first time I saw what it has concealed all this time... what the butterfly hid from everybody else.
Truth be told, I have been watching this particular butterfly for some time now, and for no apparent reason. I have witnessed its flight--how it flutters every time it beats its gorgeous wings... and how it glides gracefully while in the air. I know quite well that this spectacle is not for a mediocre observer like me. Nevertheless, I can't help but be amazed by its display of marvelous beauty. Oftentimes, I'd think that it likes to show off and brag about its sophistication and elegance (just think about a vain butterfly, people. Interesting, neh?!). Anyway, there's this one certain event which changed the way I saw the butterfly... and I can't believe that it's that simple--the way it feeds.
Its feeding, though an amazing sight for any observer (including me), made me flinch and take a few steps back in disgust. You see, it feeds on different flowers... switching flowers every once in a while. I knew that butterflies are supposed to do this, and that this particular butterfly doesn't differ from the rest of its kind. However, there is one quite small thing that makes it unique... that makes it stand out from the rest... that makes it need to feed on a single flower only. Unfortunately, that trait I could not decipher.
However irritating the sight might be, I continued to watch it out of habit. Later on, I realized that for the past few days, it has been feeding on a single flower. Sure, it is still moving from one flower to another, but it surprised me to see that once or twice, it'll go back to that one single flower.
At that point, I began to envy the flower... I began to envy the flower for my precious butterfly seemed to be more radiant than usual. It's as if it only opens and beats its wings for the pleasure of the flower, while I, I who have watched it for so long, never got that precious chance to see the butterfly beating its wings in front of me. True, I have watched it... I have observed it... only from afar. I am afraid to approach it for I know that it'll only fly away... away from my grasp and my sight... far, far away. And that's why I content myself to seeing it from a distance... where I know it'll not bother to look at...
As time flew by, the butterfly became more and more loyal to that single flower. This time, I've let go of the chance that I might be able to see it closer. Nevertheless, this didn't stop me from watching it everyday. One day, I noticed that the flower blossomed even more... almost radiating its magnificence along with the butterfly. The scene itself is almost surreal... and yet describing it as surreal is an understatement. Days passed, weeks and months. Now, the butterfly does not switch flowers anymore... it's almost surprising to know that now it stayed only by the flower's side... That is, until one event changed their relationship drastically.
Observing from my usual place, I noticed that the butterfly was hovering in mid-air. I thought that nothing was unusual so I continued observing the little thing. Minutes passed by, or maybe an hour, I don't really know which one, but the butterfly continued to fly to and fro, without ever landing on a flower. That's the time I realized something--it flies in circles on the exact same spot... not changing place, at all. And then the thought of 'something might be wrong' entered my head. I walked closer to the spot where the butterfly was flying... all thoughts of me scaring the creature thrown to the wind. I was one step away from the butterfly when the winged creature slowly descended, almost touching the ground. I knelt down to see what it might be... and what I saw almost broke my heart.
There, lying in the ground was the dead, wilted version of the flower my precious little one loved. It was such a heart-wrenching scene... I almost want to run away and just blame the butterfly... think that it was karma acting on it (remember what I thought about its constant changing of flowers?). But then again, I don't have the courage to. There, atop a fallen petal the flower once owned, was my minute friend--wings drooped and antennae bowed. I felt sorry for my little butterfly. I know how it was to lose something special... how to lose a loved one, even. I was immersed in my thoughts when the butterfly flew once more, or rather, shot upwards through the sky. It flew fast, not the usual flutter of wings but a raging flapping of them. It almost seemed as though it wants to find a way to die... or find a way to get rid of its pain.
After some time, when I was about to walk away from this depressing scene--the flower dead and my butterfly frustrated, my little one finally calmed down. It descended from up high right to the spot opposite my face. I held out my palms and there it landed. I knew that it was really tired... tired of all of these happenings... tired of the pain which it was suffering... It folded its wings and laid there in my open hands. I stared at it for a few moments, thinking back on how I really admired it... how I would watch it from afar... and how I would witness its relationship with the flower. This last thought brought a spasm of pain which caused a tear to roll down my cheek and fall to my open hand. As I was ready to let all the tears escape, the butterfly suddenly moved. And then, it did what I least expect it to do in front of me... it opened its wings only for me to see...
As I look back to this particular incident--the way I held and felt the fragility of my precious little creature and the way it opened its wings, I can't help but both smile and feel sad about it. Smile because I knew that once in my life, I can say that the butterfly trusted me; feel sad because I know I can do nothing to help it. Now, I don't see the butterfly anymore... Maybe it's gone with the wind... or dead even... or maybe it's just there... waiting for that special flower to come back.
Thanatos
Truth be told, I have been watching this particular butterfly for some time now, and for no apparent reason. I have witnessed its flight--how it flutters every time it beats its gorgeous wings... and how it glides gracefully while in the air. I know quite well that this spectacle is not for a mediocre observer like me. Nevertheless, I can't help but be amazed by its display of marvelous beauty. Oftentimes, I'd think that it likes to show off and brag about its sophistication and elegance (just think about a vain butterfly, people. Interesting, neh?!). Anyway, there's this one certain event which changed the way I saw the butterfly... and I can't believe that it's that simple--the way it feeds.
Its feeding, though an amazing sight for any observer (including me), made me flinch and take a few steps back in disgust. You see, it feeds on different flowers... switching flowers every once in a while. I knew that butterflies are supposed to do this, and that this particular butterfly doesn't differ from the rest of its kind. However, there is one quite small thing that makes it unique... that makes it stand out from the rest... that makes it need to feed on a single flower only. Unfortunately, that trait I could not decipher.
However irritating the sight might be, I continued to watch it out of habit. Later on, I realized that for the past few days, it has been feeding on a single flower. Sure, it is still moving from one flower to another, but it surprised me to see that once or twice, it'll go back to that one single flower.
At that point, I began to envy the flower... I began to envy the flower for my precious butterfly seemed to be more radiant than usual. It's as if it only opens and beats its wings for the pleasure of the flower, while I, I who have watched it for so long, never got that precious chance to see the butterfly beating its wings in front of me. True, I have watched it... I have observed it... only from afar. I am afraid to approach it for I know that it'll only fly away... away from my grasp and my sight... far, far away. And that's why I content myself to seeing it from a distance... where I know it'll not bother to look at...
As time flew by, the butterfly became more and more loyal to that single flower. This time, I've let go of the chance that I might be able to see it closer. Nevertheless, this didn't stop me from watching it everyday. One day, I noticed that the flower blossomed even more... almost radiating its magnificence along with the butterfly. The scene itself is almost surreal... and yet describing it as surreal is an understatement. Days passed, weeks and months. Now, the butterfly does not switch flowers anymore... it's almost surprising to know that now it stayed only by the flower's side... That is, until one event changed their relationship drastically.
Observing from my usual place, I noticed that the butterfly was hovering in mid-air. I thought that nothing was unusual so I continued observing the little thing. Minutes passed by, or maybe an hour, I don't really know which one, but the butterfly continued to fly to and fro, without ever landing on a flower. That's the time I realized something--it flies in circles on the exact same spot... not changing place, at all. And then the thought of 'something might be wrong' entered my head. I walked closer to the spot where the butterfly was flying... all thoughts of me scaring the creature thrown to the wind. I was one step away from the butterfly when the winged creature slowly descended, almost touching the ground. I knelt down to see what it might be... and what I saw almost broke my heart.
There, lying in the ground was the dead, wilted version of the flower my precious little one loved. It was such a heart-wrenching scene... I almost want to run away and just blame the butterfly... think that it was karma acting on it (remember what I thought about its constant changing of flowers?). But then again, I don't have the courage to. There, atop a fallen petal the flower once owned, was my minute friend--wings drooped and antennae bowed. I felt sorry for my little butterfly. I know how it was to lose something special... how to lose a loved one, even. I was immersed in my thoughts when the butterfly flew once more, or rather, shot upwards through the sky. It flew fast, not the usual flutter of wings but a raging flapping of them. It almost seemed as though it wants to find a way to die... or find a way to get rid of its pain.
After some time, when I was about to walk away from this depressing scene--the flower dead and my butterfly frustrated, my little one finally calmed down. It descended from up high right to the spot opposite my face. I held out my palms and there it landed. I knew that it was really tired... tired of all of these happenings... tired of the pain which it was suffering... It folded its wings and laid there in my open hands. I stared at it for a few moments, thinking back on how I really admired it... how I would watch it from afar... and how I would witness its relationship with the flower. This last thought brought a spasm of pain which caused a tear to roll down my cheek and fall to my open hand. As I was ready to let all the tears escape, the butterfly suddenly moved. And then, it did what I least expect it to do in front of me... it opened its wings only for me to see...
As I look back to this particular incident--the way I held and felt the fragility of my precious little creature and the way it opened its wings, I can't help but both smile and feel sad about it. Smile because I knew that once in my life, I can say that the butterfly trusted me; feel sad because I know I can do nothing to help it. Now, I don't see the butterfly anymore... Maybe it's gone with the wind... or dead even... or maybe it's just there... waiting for that special flower to come back.
Thanatos
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