Funerals

First off, I'd like to thank Pastor Raymond Yeung. I went to his funeral today, not remembering who exactly he was until I saw his picture again. Because of him, my family is Christian. Without him, I might have became a Buddhist (and hooked up with someone) or practiced ancestor veneration (and hooked up with someone). I suppose that within the infinite wisdom and grace of God that things have happened the way they do. Also, if anyone knows the short version of my name, it'd just be weird if I weren't anyways.

As I went through the procession, I couldn't help but think why funerals hit the family so hard. I think it's because when you're at the cemetery and see the coffin right before it goes into the ground, that the realization hits. It is the realization that you'll actually see this person in your life for the last time. It's an odd feeling, but it comes from knowing that your life runs relatively stable, in the fact that the people you know age and work at the same pace as you. Even though you're 30-40-50, your friends and stuff will still feel like the same things grew up with, but never really left.

It's also hard on the family because there will be a physical emptiness, a void left to be filled. The dinner table chair, the barcalounger at home, the one less voice you hear - all reminders that indeed life is gone. It's funny how we mourn and are joyful at the same time, having believed that though the person is physically gone, the spirit has gone to a better place, one without pain, persecution, strife and struggle, and in that the next life lies infinitely greater pleasure. Still, it doesn't erase the feeling of pain, especially when we focus on the real aspects of the loss versus the big picture.

Two people take care of my brother's gravestone. Both question who does the work while the other is absent. I try not to answer the question, because it would only create a tension that distracts from the real issue. It's sad that it's come to a point where both parties think they're speaking for the best of the deceased, when in actuality he doesn't have a voice, per se in how his own memorial ought to be treated. The greater issue is whether or not people can still work together.

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics

Who says hello anymore? I do.

To that girl who ignored me this week, it's alright. People got things to do, places to go, people to see. I know I did - that's why I had a Choco Taco for free.

It's been a while since I last blogged. It's not that I haven't found the motivation, or a lack of content to write about. Quite the contrary, a lot has been on my mind for the past couple of months. Work, relationships, money, future, and the past have all played a factor as to what I've been doing today. However, a little birdie brought me to write this particular post, one about keeping things in perspective.

Blogging is my haven. It's my venting ground, my announcement board, my soap box, my diary. It's entertainment, philosophy, comedy, sadness. It's unedited, non-sequential and from the heart. It's me and myself. Nowadays, blogging has become more of a business, rather than a method of personal expression. Businesses have blogs, movements have blogs,  even imaginary characters have them. Why must you not be yourself in order to sell something? Why must you go out of your way, to be unnatural, to set up an adventure, to advertise an activity, to push your next product?

Putting up the facade over the internet is easy. Sure we've found ways to cyber-stalk, and generally find out more information about others, but on the whole, people can still remain anonymous. Internet chat rooms of debauchery and hatred, Xbox Live where absurdity blossoms, and yes, Nigerians can still scam your dollars away.

We can advertise all the good things in our life, in order to be a bastion of hope or a boat of boastfulness. We can push all the sadness into the light as a cry for help, a suicide call, an attempt to cure human loneliness.

I wonder now if I had no face - could someone go through life without a physical identity? Even the lack of identity now can be considered one, but with the lines blurring where life imitates are and vice-versa, is it really possible?

Nevertheless, it's important to be yourself, in whatever capacity that means to you. The sheer overwhelming number of societal elements doesn't mean you need them to function - why must you iPhone it? Why must you identify with this major group?

My life goal of fading away into legendary obscurity is slowly happening.

Posted via email from Bloodscope Economics