Like a phoenix rising from ash
Like blood flowing from a gash
Only death can bring renewal
Only pain can bring withdrawal
Suffer the fool who would choose
Barren brown earth over the sky’s blues
Because of a fear to take flight
Never will he see day’s first light
Courage to face the elements
Will to piece back the fragments
Of a spirit shattered by sorrow
So that you may bravely face tomorrow
Sometimes I wonder if God sees the world like how we look at an ant farm. Humans are just ants on a much bigger scale. We’re perpetually in a mad rush, going in a million different directions and constantly bumping into one another our way.
We always seem to be in a great hurry to get somewhere. We’re always short of time. When was the last time I drove patiently and didn’t feel anxious to reach my destination? I can’t even remember.
Modern conveniences that we take for granted, like e-mails and SMS, are supposed to help make life easier for us but do they really? I was reading an article the other day about the results of a survey indicating that more people are late for appointments these days because they feel they can just simply send a text message to the person left waiting to let them know they’ll be late. I mean, how many times have you texted someone to say you’ll be running late because "you’re stuck in traffic"? Blame the rain, a faulty traffic light, a stalled car on the Federal…
The truth is, you just have shitty time management.
I’d like to, for once, hear someone say, "Oh, sorry I’m late, I was trimming my pubic hair." In which case, I’d totally forgive you for being late because you certainly can’t rush things like that, can you?
I’ll confess, I’ve blamed the traffic for my tardiness on a number of occasions. Punctuality is not exactly my strong suit but I’m working on that.
And even when I’m well on schedule, I feel like I still have to rush because there are never enough hours in a day to accomplish all the things you want to.
I ran into a friend the other day who’s always complaining about how I walk and talk too fast for him. Sometimes when I’m talking, he always looks a bit overwhelmed like he can’t digest all the words that are coming out of my mouth. He, on the other hand, does everything at a snail’s pace.
He’s 27 and has never stayed at a job for more than a year. I can understand why. The word ‘deadline’ probably doesn’t mean anything to him.
Well, it’s not like he ever needs to hold down a steady job, being a trust fund baby (ie. filthy rich parents) and all. And maybe that’s what contributes to his super-laidback nature. If you ever tell him about your problems, the only kind of response you can expect from him is, "Chill out and smoke a joint."
Of course, you can’t ever fault a person for a lack of ambition. Some people don’t perceive career as a measure of your success as a human being. But he doesn’t seem to be concerned about achieving anything else in his life - not even a long-term relationship. I remind him that he’s fast approaching 30 and has never even been with a single girl for more than a year (much like his career, as you can see). What is his response to this? "Chill out and smoke a joint, Steph."
Life is too short, he tells me.
Yes, it is indeed. But as fleeting and ephemeral as life is, I think we all need to have something permanent and lasting that justifies why we spend our waking days the way we do. And maybe that’s why we’re always in a hurry. Because of this sense of urgency, of purpose.
So I turned to him after we exchanged some words - he being ten paces behind me, as always. "Hey, nice seeing you again, but I gotta rush off now," I said.
He nodded while inhaling on his Dunhill. "What are you rushing for, Steph?" he shouted as I was already starting to walk away.
I turned to look at him over my shoulder and called out, "Life. It just passed you by, man."
I took a chance.
Sometimes you’re in a position where you’re totally comfortable with your present situation and you feel that maybe this is all you deserve. You deny yourself what you truly want because you don’t want to jeopardise your position. But why not take a risk and see if it could be more than this?
Even if it’s just a shot in the dark. A venture into unfamiliar territory. A plunge into the unknown.
So I took a chance. The truth is, I’m scared. Fearful of the consequences and afraid that it may be too little, too late.
But when you want something badly enough, you sacrifice safety, security, comfort and whatever it is that you’re sure of in life. Even for something that’s vague and uncertain.
And then after that, all you can do is wait for the conclusion, while the world seems to come to a grinding halt, yet the minutes, hours, days, weeks and months stretch into maddening eternity.
Too much has been written about the World Cup and that headbutting incident already, so let’s keep this short and sweet. (Or at least as short I know how.)
Best Anti-Hero: Zidane. He might have exited the international football stage in a rather appalling fashion but well, at least one can never accuse him of not using his head. *snicker* Although you can forgive him of almost anything when you watch him with the ball. Just like how easy it was to forgive Eric Cantona when he landed that infamous kung-fu kick on a Crystal Palace fan. We all love a flawed hero. We want to believe that when they’re not losing their cool, they translate all this rage into pure wizardry on the pitch.
Best Villain: Cristiano "Crybaby" Ronaldo. The boy’s got skills, this I gotta give him credit for. If Rooney stings like a bee, then C.Ron floats (past defenders, that is) like a butterfly. Superb dribbling skills and a repertoire of tricks, with enough flair to match Zidane. But too bad he’s just such an annoying prick. I’m not saying that just because he helped to get his MU teammate Rooney get sent off the field during the England-Portugal game, antagonising English media and footie fans alike. But he didn’t exactly endear himself to the German public either during the third-place playoff with the host by repeatedly (and blatantly, I might add) diving. Or as my friend put it, "he was trying to get his PADI license".
Best Celebrity Impersonation: Luiz Felipe Scolari as Gene Hackman. It’s uncanny.
Lady Luck’s Pet: Fabio Grosso, Italy defender. He won a penalty against Australia in the dying moments of the game. He curled in a fabulous goal against Germany in the dying moments of extra time. What the hell was a leftback doing at the right side of the penalty box? And how the hell did he manage to put that sucker past Lehmann? Someone up there must like him.
"Thanks For Pointing That Out, Mr. Commentator" Award: Commentator for the Italy-Germany semi-final match who said during the last few minutes of normal time, "One small lapse in concentration, one mistake now by either team will have them on the first plane home from Germany. Uh, except the Germans, of course, because they, uh, live here. "
So there you have it. A lot say that this World Cup was a largely unexciting, goal-deprived affair with too many dodgy refereeing decisions and too few outstanding players who really made us sit up and take notice. And of course, this was the last World Cup for stars like Beckham, Figo and Zidane. But I saw plenty of promise yet in players like Aaron Lennon, David Ribery, Lionel Messi and Fernando Torres.
We’ll see them in 4 years’ time.
