more pointless picts

Papa stopped by some little town with one street (maybe more but sounds cooler this way) and one coffee shop (this one no exaggeration). Karai just off Ipoh on the way to Sg. Siput (or after Sg. Siput. I can't remember). The soft focus effect is actually because the lens was fogged up coming out from a very cold car.

Deep in the jungle

Beside an illegal mining stall. A river runs through, carrying muddy water where once a crystal stream ran.

jungle fever

Tree so high

Track deeply rutted, leading out from jungle.

Some of the workers Papa has got to do the manual and menial work in said jungle

Papa has been busy lately, popping into some jungle and out of the way places. Papa will just post some photos and make up the stories later... hehe.
A dead beatle (John Lennon?) outside Papa's homestay room near outskirts of the jungle. The room key is next to the said bettle. There were hundreds of them lying around the area, maybe because of the rain.ll dead or dying.

another week goes by

NO reaction at all to letting me see you. Maybe slowly we will forget each other, bit by bit? Papa is at wits end. Its no good being in pain all the time. So Papa will write about other things for the time being.

See, Papa has been listening to some albums by Carla Bruni. Ms Bruni sings and writes with some intelligence and sensitivity which would be notable for the average songwriter. Papa likes "Le toi du moi" which is hyper-clever. For a bit of fun, Papa has got some of the lyrics down here.

T'es le Laurel de mon Hardy
T'es le plaisir de mon soupir
T'es la moustache de mon Trotski
T'es tous les éclats de mon rire
Tu es le chant de ma sirène
Tu es le sang et moi la veine
T'es le jamais de mon toujours
T'es mon amour t'es mon amour

translated (by Papa, so please excuse errors, if any)

You're the Laurel of my Hardy
You're the pleasure of my sigh
You're my mustache of my Trotsky
You are the breaking of my laugh
You are the song of my siren
You are the blood and I''m the vein
You're the never of my always
You're my love you're my love

Whimsical song, she keeps the counterpoint in every line, save and except "T'es mon amour t'es mon amour". As there are always two sides to the coin, but the coin itself is one (Zen like eh?) As you were my eyes when I was blind ,and you were my light in the darkness.

For this line, there is no synonym nor antonyms, no counterparty, no opposites. Allegorically there is no replacement, it stands on its own, singular and unique. A throwaway line, slipped in so casually seemingly. A quiet intelligence. So to my little girl. I have no replacement for my feelings for you.

T'es mon amour t'es mon amour


I will see you soon.

quasimodo

I was playing some music in the car. Nothing much, just some tortured moanings, Quasimodo in Notre Dame [Vivre] where he groans out how unfair the world is...

"God this world is so unfair, he's so handsome and I'm so ugly, Even if I gave you the moon, you'd refuse to love me... My ugliness insults your beauty ...."etc etc. Garou who plays the hunchback, has a gravelly pained voice on the perkiest of days, and he really hams it out in his role. Lyrics are also pretty unsubtle. Unfortunately my friend doesn't know french....
So. My friend blurts out...."wah its really quite soothing..."

pond again

rocks

Papa's moonscape. Its quite a beautiful place just after some rain in the evening....rocks and boulders everywhere. Colours really are this scary due to presence of iron in the soil.

pond

Deep in Pahang, but not the jungle. Papa went up to look at progress at the worksite. A river runs through our land. This is one of the ponds on the land. Papa went yesterday, place really looks like in the photograph.

woof woof

soppy summer story

Papa got a little confession for you.

In the time that Mama took you way, Papa was very down In fact Papa was so down, he couldn't see. Papa's world became very dark, and worse, Papa found that he had become blind to the world.

In that very dark place, Papa found you were my little light. But how could Papa see or know there was light if he were blind? My little girl, you became my eyes through which I saw the world. As a little child, you made me see the world in a different way altogether. The world through your vision is altogether bigger, shinier and more wonderful than Papa could ever imagine. For this Papa is grateful. And Papa will not forget.

books of the week

The fishing boat that went to war.

The wessex fighting wyverns.
[Word of the day, wyvern: half serpent, half dragon]

another birthday

Papa had his birthday yesterday. And then it occurred to Papa that I have not seen you for my birthday since you were one year old. On a heated phone call with your auntie, she kept repeating with great pride in her voice , "My sister has made her point."

Papa couldn't even see it, and so we were at a crossroads, "what point is that?? I don't know what you are talking about at all" "My sister has made her point""What point is that?""My ister has made her point very clear".

Today I understand the point. Unfortunately, Mama will use you in any way to hurt me. This is the source of pride for your auntie.

Twisted world, my little girl.

ten thousand winds

My father died three years ago , a day after my birthday. I remeber sseing him in ht e morning on the hospital bed. He was up, waiting for me, and the first thing he said was "happy birthday, son". I had to bend close to hear, and his eyes were watery. Maybe he knew he was dying then, and held on for those days in order to say those words to me. He passed away the next day, but that is another story for another day.

A few weeks ago , I came across a song which reflects for me the philosophy of life that my father held on to. He never let go of this philosophy, even to his dying days. The title of the song is A Thousand Winds. One tenth of my father , who is named (as translated in English) Ten Thousand Winds.

Don’t stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain

I am a thousand winds
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow
I am a thousand winds that blow

Don’t stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die
I am the swift rush of birds in flight
Soft stars that shine at night

I am a thousand winds
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow
I am a thousand winds that blow

Don’t stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain

I am a thousand winds
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow
I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glint on snow
I am a thousand winds that blow
I Am A Thousand Winds.

To my Ten Thousand Winds. I miss you papa.