wake

It's high time I said something, here, that has more substance to it - something more communicative than a shitty poem written before sleep (somewhat like this note) or transcribed from my university notebooks.

I think it's time to wake.
I've been spending long days doing very little even in the things that I claim to enjoy. Beset by Facebook and Twitter, surrounded by simple content that I absorb through my eyes and ears. Starcraft 2 makes for a good example of what I'm talking about. I did claw my way into the Gold League, once, wherein I stood my ground as a potent Zerg force... and then I just stopped playing.

Recently, I found myself drawn by watching countless SC2 games as a form of pasttime. Much like the man who sits in front of a TV, sipping a drink and watching a football game, I would stare at my monitor in awe as world-class players battled for dominance in a sport that only occurs within a virtual space.

It eventually occurred to me how passive I have become. Most of my thoughts are short enough to squeeze into a 140-character tweet. The words stopped spilling out of my pen. Even as a "gamer", I only really watched - the only game I actively played is World of Warcraft, raiding with my guild.

Complacent and passive, how would I ever move forward? I have no right to complain about mediocrity and complacency if I myself am not doing anything with my hobbies, with my ideas or indeed with my studies.

Personal development and self-betterment is not something applied directly in singular, discrete spots. The fact I'm bringing up hobbies is because I feel our hobbies - all of them - have a much greater impact than what we notice. Gaming trains the mind and its connection to the body, whereas Aikido trains the body and its connection to the mind. Understanding the world through the various sciences also allows us to get closer and closer to very important answers.

I shall wake up the mind and body, lift myself out of slumber. Go forward, create or do something every day. Lose those SC2 games and learn the hard way.
It just feels good when you realize you're doing and not just watching things being done.

nothing new

The crushing weight of a pen resting idly.
The paper decaying, slowly drained by time.
These strings are quiet, gnawed by creeping rust.
Words of the wise restlessly flail in closed books.

Old yellow light paints the wall
The falling dust does not stir.
The unbroken spell of silence
where once a sound so warm echoed in air.

Nothing more left to write.
Old drawings of the past, moments locked in amber
fade away on yellowing paper.
No presence, no soul, no vibration.

The memories glow in the fading sunshine.
Movements, places, moments, words...
And as night falls, something moves.
The pen is lifted, the page is turned.