Rantglass - because that's how things are.


Low key.

We may not be noble knights perched atop mighty steeds, sword and armour always in hand; nor chiselled-jaw soldiers behind enemy lines, brows forever furrowed into knots of grey.

But surely that does not mean that we are any less useful in this modern chessboard of life, where we can either be pawns ruthlessly sacrificed as and when necessary, or be righteous rulers who hold charge of our own destiny and making.

The most important decisions that change the lives of others almost always lie with a stranger: the no-nonsense judge with a well-worn gavel, the professional recruiter who invites you over for a job interview, the strict officer giving a seal of approval to your scholarship application.

I am good, and I am grounded. Take a chance on me, you plead.

But things are never going to be that easy.

Details of this entry.Sunday, September 28, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Hazel, Tweedy


Iced lemon tea.

It would seem that I have been inadvertently gifted with more than a couple of lemons lately, all from various sources.

Some may have been scooped out of the sea like a message of doom in a rusty old bottle; others simply fell off the tree and rolled over to my feet nonchalantly, as a cat would when it needed a good, warm rub on its belly.

But it worries me that they are just not being turned into huge pitchers of cool lemonade fast enough.

Then again, of course I do not own a modern juicer with complex multi-purpose functions that can but only serve the eclectic lifestyles of the rich and famous.

Too often have I missed out on the things that truly matter: bright yellow sunshine peeking out from behind cotton-candy clouds; technicolour rainbows forming a secret archway to the great unknown.

So much so that when the spring showers finally begin, I may no longer know which side to choose anymore.

Details of this entry.Sunday, August 31, 2014, filed under Personal.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Standing in the Sun, Howie Day


Half a page.

From a band fondly welcomed back to the fold after being lost in the dream, to another that would have gone virtually unknown, save for a chance meeting at a website named after a farming tool…

It must have been a slow year music-wise, for I do not yet know for sure what my favourite album for 2014 will be. Yes, there may already be a few in line for the crown, but at times like these, it seems unthinkable to look so far ahead when the past has yet to be.

There are the ones that simply give you the feels – screaming pure euphoria even for just a moment, as carefree notes and minute staccatos dance lightly upon your skin.

Then there are the ones that pull you deeper into gloom – a gathering storm over the horizon, making more woe of yesterday’s flaws and drowning you further in today’s sorrows.

And there are the ones that you care absolutely nothing for – simply breezing you by, unaware, unnoticed and unloved, as you spend another four minutes of your lifetime functioning on autopilot mode.

No sooner than that and it all begins to fade into nothingness. Like a love song tirelessly played to kingdom come, it numbs and strips all of its intended meaning, leaving you no better than when it first started.

Details of this entry.Monday, July 28, 2014, filed under Musings.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Disappearing, The War on Drugs


Never mind.

Having been pelted with words harsh and unkind, there is not much fiery imagination left to the mind. For we sail indeed in waters that bite, even as we slowly disappear out of sight.

Hopeless and useless as one can be, there is no more salvation as far as the eyes can see.

Already a failure, but not yet a loser.

So it is tempting, yes, to draw these old and faded curtains to a close, and buy a brand new one of colours sparkling gold and red as a rose.

Oh, but to again have that sense of pure wonderment and child-like naivety wash over you from head to toe; nothing a sudden rush of goosebumps and a furiously beating heart could not tide you through.

Perhaps it is time to simply dust it all away with a kiss off into the air, and quietly start over without much fanfare.

Details of this entry.Saturday, July 05, 2014, filed under Musings.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Lean, The National


Zipcode.

Blink. Lightning crashes. A snap of the finger. And here we are again, staring blankly at the face of the sixth month of the year.

Disgraced starlets, fallen heroes and crying firstborns; secret hideouts, open windows and a pair of black, shiny boots so well worn, you would think they have been all over the world and back again. Twice.

The journey to get here has been tumultuous to say the least, and yet the intended destination is still far out of reach of many. The much longed for fast-forward button, even if made available, may not have been able to work its magic to the fullest; there are mountains too high to climb, oceans too deep to cross, lands too vast to tread on.

Then again, we make but only a small dent in this big bang of a universe; a tiny speck of dust floating through the only golden stream of sunlight. This is an equation that hardly does any justice in the law of mathematics, for we are here not by design but by necessity, in order to take on a mission unknown to humanity.

We could have stopped and smelled the roses, but weekends that go by too swiftly simply ought to be outlawed.

Details of this entry.Sunday, June 01, 2014, filed under Musings.
Recent tracks played are displayed on Last.fm.Lean, The National


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