<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/10577446?origin\x3dhttp://bang-balls.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener("load", function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <iframe src="http://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID=3516409553009350420&blogName=Live+Preview.&publishMode=PUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT&navbarType=BLUE&layoutType=CLASSIC&searchRoot=http%3A%2F%2Fx-threemilesdown.blogspot.com%2Fsearch&blogLocale=en&homepageUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fx-threemilesdown.blogspot.com%2F" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" height="30px" width="100%" id="navbar-iframe" title="Blogger Navigation and Search"></iframe> <div></div>
 

 



BANG BALLS
FREEDOM OF SPEECH NOTHING SHOULD BE IMPOSED
IDEAS NOT LEECHED ONLY CREATIVELY COMPOSED

Mark Tay

Facebook
Flickr
Email


Archives
February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 August 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 February 2009 March 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 January 2010 February 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010

Links
Jasmine

Thursday, October 23, 2008
Hokus Polkus.

Of skies so high
And clouds so blue
I look up
And see what's true.
Green clumps
Red lumps
Purple stumps
Life start to slump.
Bump! Bump
Bump.
The swirls and pearls
From the waters so deep
Leap up with a silent beep
Stars rise
Suns fall
Moonshine
What's thine?
Of sticks and stones
And caves and cones
What can break the wafer
Something cold and nothing later

'Oh what pain which befalls the humble mortal
For his design was not to bear such suffering
But with emotions a plenty and that he must feel
He too must pay a price, a price a plenty'

As petals whittle
And children whistle
The air of christmas
Comes to pass.
Mistletoe and holly wreaths
With poinsettias on our chest we breathe
Luscious green and scarlet red
Hues of the time of white
Where merry is made
And sherry never fades
Memories forever a plenty.
And as the night comes
As it always does
The day breaks
With solemn regret.

Saturday, October 18, 2008
Allegory of the Cookie Tin.

A simple analogy for you to mull over.

Marriage is like buying a tin of cookies.

You want a cookie tin that's not dented; we all want something perfect. But we all also know that nothing's perfect, and it's really the same with marriage. Searching for perfection doesn't leave you anywhere, but it leaves you with something - dissatisfaction.

And so, we decide and choose the least dented tin, or in this case, the most perfect partner.

After buying the tin of cookies, we have no idea what lies inside. Likewise, it's the same with marriage. You never truly know who, or what the person you're marrying is like deep down inside. All we had to make that decision was the best guess you had, based on what you know or you think you knew.

So what's bought is bought, and what's signed is law.

We eat the cookies. Never did we know that we were lactose intolerant, till we had a bite of the milk cookie that was in the tin. Same with marriage. You never knew that you were THAT allergic to her. But since we've started on the tin, we'll have to finish it. We start to get use to the frequent trips to the toilet and the uncomfortable rumble in the tummy.

And we're finally cured of our lactose intolerance - we start to live with her peacefully.

Along the way the tin gets dented and maybe even scratched. We start to develop a trusting relationship with our cookie tin. It gives us that extra reassurance when we start to get hungry, knowing that the good ol' tin would always be there to fill the tummy when the ride gets bumpy. Likewise, our partners start to lose their physical appeal. Women start to sag and men start to droop. But we grow to love the inner person and not the externals - marriage is now about reliance and support not the passion that happens at night.

Nostalgia fills the air in the tin while memories fill the heart with warmth.

By now, the once-filled tin of cookies has been fully consumed. There's no more left! But no, we choose not to discard the tin. With time, we have started to develop a bond with it. We use the tin to keep little bits of treasure - our treasure (not of riches but of memories; remember the little postcards we wrote to one another? the movies stubs we keep? the little toys from our childhood day?). The tin starts to hold the littlest of things which are dearest to our hearts. And likewise, our partners start to become our cookie tins. We share and keep memories in each other. When we talk about the yesteryears, it's like opening our cookie tin and pouring all the contents out. We look at the bits - some make us laugh, others make us cry, but nonetheless they all mean something to us. 

And so, our dented tin and vintage partners become a part of us - an inseparable part of you and me.