Spirit of Sparta

I was sitting in the university classroom, pondering over what I should come up with for my Communications assignment.  Lots of things happened quite recently, and so my dear mind was in a mesh.  Rather unknowingly, I found myself bringing up a topic I had long forgotten, one that I had written countless number of times as I applied to pre-med university.  There I was standing in front of the class shamelessly tearing away at the very flesh of my own mind for words for the soul.  I was glad I could find my voice again.

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Spirit of Sparta by Alicia Ai Leng is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

     The sound of gunshot crackled through the crisp cold morning air.  The bullet penetrated through the misty dewy darkness of twilight, escaping into the cast emptiness, beyond auditory threshold.  It signaled the fresh start of a long 21-kilometer run.  Tens of thousands wobbled at their feet, their toes still slightly cramped from the morning cold.

The senses orchestrated themselves to lots of things happening around.  The ears captured all that was there to hear: the endless chatter of the overly-excited crowd, the rapid pattering of thousands of feet, the resounding siren of the police, and yes, the gunshot.  The eyes looked ahead… and about.  They saw people in orange vests in front, beside, and behind.  All running on their feet, their faces twitched by the lack of oxygen.  The sweet, small mouth – it gasped for air.  The lung expanded and contracted at normal pace in intervals.  The Chambers of Life pumped slightly faster than usual.  Little drops of sweat trickled down the tiny pores of the skin, dripping onto the ground.

There she was, a young woman not over 20, running on her two feet, not too fast, not too slow, a speckled dot among the entire lot.  It was *Sabrina’s first half-marathon in her life, and she was determined to make it.  Not that it was impossible; she had exerted a bit more than an hour on the training grounds running ten kilometers.  She mentally repeated to herself that she just had to go slow and take it easy.

It was only 4AM.  In the blank state of her mind, Sabrina felt extremely refreshed.  Nothing crossed her thoughts.  She was so relaxed.  There was no sign of pain as she swayed left and right (that was the way to run, right?) and her heels hit the ground.  It seemed so utterly effortless.

But no one knew.  No one knew what Sabrina had gone through, that only seven years back, her very life had hung on a thread.  That thread was about to snap if it were not for her seven lifesavers, all crowded around her in the surgery room with their green overalls on.

It had come from the back.  This big vehicle, a lorry probably, was speeding down the empty road with hellish swiftness.  A young, fat Chinese man was behind the steering wheel.  He had a companion at the back, open-air end; was he Malay, Chinese, or Indian no one could remember.

The companion was sitting at the back, but he was not sitting still.  He was frantic – but, good Lord, why?  The two appeared to be rushing from someone, something.  In all the hullabaloo, the driver did not even notice the young girl walking in front of him.

In a matter of seconds, everything happened.  The girl was knocked down.  Her right shoe slipped out of her foot and flew off, landing distances away.  The impact forced the young woman out of her gait too,  and she landed on the ground with a thud approximately a hundred meters away.

Nonetheless the lorry did not halt its brakes.  It just went on as if nothing had happened.  It would have sped off if not for the traffic lights – and her younger brother as well.

The small thin boy ran as fast as his skinny legs could carry.  He wanted to stop the driver, and he did.  Stupefied by the horror that had occurred right before her very eyes, the boy’s mother stood watching.  The little boy made the driver’s companion hoist his motionless sister into the vehicle.  He vehemently directed the driver to the nearest hospital.

That night was a night of desperation.  As the heart monitor gave out its timely beep, doctors worked on the body, half hoping, half dreading; Sabrina’s mother sobbed uncontrollably in devastation, and her brother did his best to look calm, although signs of overwhelming distraught showed in his eyes.  Friends and neighbors came to console the mother, but it seemed hopeless. At last the main surgeon walked out of the OT. “She has only 25% chance of survival.”  That was the last thing anyone wanted to hear.

Her spleen was removed – at least a huge portion of it – and her lung too, for it was completely lacerated.  Her blood capacity was below 50%, and her ankle and rib cage were fractured.  Sabrina was now very pale and thin.  Her eyes were shut close as her spirit breathed on and on, considering whether it should hold itself together or simply give up.

In the dire circumstances, her spirit fought through a tough combat between Life and Death, between the real and the Void.  It battled to keep the girl alive, her dear heart beating and her lung breathing.  Her warring soul never stopped for weeks on end,

Yet just when everyone was almost losing hope on Sabrina, her beautiful brown eyes flickered open.  There were a few more battles, battles that were no as tough as the one before, but were still battles.  First she lost her voice – and then it came back.  Then she had to learn to stand up; she fell hard onto the ground so many, many times the searing pain shot through her feeble spine and left her semi-paralyzed for minutes.  On several occasions she fell headlong on her crutches as she hobbled through the corridors of the hospital.

Nonetheless, she conquered each and every fight.  She grabbed firm hold of the crutches – and no, she did not hobble along anymore.  Rather, she walked the crutches swiftly, as if she were carrying the crutches with her wherever she went.

Finally, she let it all go.  She left her crutches behind and started taking small steps.  Before she had even mastered the step, she went ahead and started running – or jogging, more like.  It was very hard at first, but Sabrina always believed in allowing herself time to grow.  She did not condone in pushing herself far too much.  And run she finally did.

Today, Sabrina runs, although not competitively.  She has completed 21 kilometers in three hours – her first half-marathon – and she swims 10 laps in her condominium pool regularly.  She is now a few months short to her bachelor’s degree, and is working on her first start-up, Braniac Media.  She aims to do her Masters too, with a focus on clinical psychology, and finally develop another startup concentrating on personality development.

Life is about firing one’s passions up to the maximum.  It is about winning battles all the way till the end of the tunnel.  It is about harboring a Spartan spirit, where the strength of the soul overcomes every war it faces with honor, dignity, and perseverance.

Red Scarlet

*not her real name

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Several years ago, in a galaxy far, far away….

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Dirty Little Secret

Shush. Don’t tell your mother.  Kiss one another.  Die for each other.

In the midst of the gooey mass of grey matter in the prefrontal lobe stands a huge army of Spartan soldiers with their spears sticking upwards in the air.  They are prepared to fight, prepared to conquer malaise, to combat for Truth.  For the mind is a wondrously dangerous place, and white lies are in constant battle with black lies and dirty little secrets.  With a tweak of a passage of signals, the entire perception alters somewhat drastically.  It gives birth to a thought, an idea, and though in its embryonic form, it still has the capability of enveloping the entire physique, covering the subtle pores of the skin with its vulnerable coat like myelineated sheaths of axons.  It hydrates the thirsty soul; it instigates a certain craving for – a little cocaine, maybe?  Fervently spreading throughout the entire breathing creature, it begins to speak aloud in the creature’s own voice.  But how weak the mind is!  Yet it is capable of intelligent choice.

Secret Garden. (Photo courtesy of Twitter)

Secret Garden. (Photo courtesy of Twitter)

A long time has past since I last published my work on WordPress.

It is a superficially busy time for me because, after this semester, I have only two more to go.  Then I shall finally graduate.  It is critically important that I do well during these last few months because I plan to sit for masters. Not only that I am working towards developing my own organizational objectives with a music business unit.  It is not easy to do this single-handedly, but I am fortunate to be able to work with other entrepreneurs as well.

It truly is one last stage for me to get by.  I admit it is tough because I am now handling everything by myself, from tuition fees to organization structure to this little powerful drug – writing – that I do every now and then.  I am consummated by exams and university projects and meeting new people.  Every now and then I am hurled into Dreamland, where I am trapped in an extremely tall tower waiting for my knight in his white horse to come around and save me of course.  At the very same moment, Time is graciously ticking away.

It definitely is fun to form mutual friendships with people and organizations, especially those who would be able to help out in the event that it is necessary.  As part of entrepreneurship all that stress that comes along with it – hopefully it ends successfully.  I want it to be a success of course!  It meaning everything.  Which encompasses education, my job, my friends, my family, my life – everything, god damn it.  All these are the work of a lifetime.  These are all my Paradise.

Don’t tell anyone.  It’s my dirty little secret.  Can you keep it?  Because I am fine with it.

Red Scarlet

P.S.:  I am quite happy being a woman.

Only Human

Tonight I am going to speak out my heart. I am going to pour out every single thought that is trying to fight for space in my head.  Tonight I just want to cry out and forget.  I am going to climb up the rooftops, stand by the edge, spread my arms wide apart, my back facing the cold, dark night air… and fall.

Fall all the way down.  As I descend through the wind, I shall look into the beauty of the skies, perhaps for the very last time.  The sack of questions slam me further down, but no, I would not budge.

I breathe in, and out, in, and out; the raw air fill my one and only lung (I lost the other a decade ago), bringing oxygen to my blood.  One by one statement after statement surface into my concious.

“My name is Alicia Ai Leng, turning 24 very, very soon, and I study psychology.  This does not mean I have answers to your every question.  I too have questions myself – many of them used to be unanswered, but more and more are getting clarified.  I daresay I know a lot more than some people, but I feel too.  I also break down and cry.  I need a hug as well every now and then.  I have the breaking point, just like everybody else, where the limits are pushed to the maximum.  But just how far are these limits?”

For the most part, my life at this time seems like an endless struggle.  If you have heard of the saying:  She stoops to conquer.  Well, I have stooped so many, many times.  I was nearly killed in an accident.  I nearly killed myself.  I nearly  lost myself to insanity., the complex of Nature and the supernatural.

My old soul is slowly fading away into the past.  Now is now, and I have to act very swiftly.  I have drowned myself completely  into positivity, completely into work, and studies, and business, and enterpreneurship.  And wallahi, for all of heaven’s sake, love!  Oh god, what is going on?  Why is this happening?

The answer is because people change.  With time, people deviate from the norms of tradition – I know this might sound sad, but it is not the time to shed tears now.  I change.  You change.  We change.  All of us change.  Like all other humans I have blood running through my veins.  I breathe the air just like everyone does.  My heart pumps life into my body just like other living being.  I eat.  I pee.  I poo.  I cry real tears too.  I am definitely not a Bobo doll, a punchbag everyone hits mercilessly.  I laugh so loud you would have thought I were out of my mind, so long you could have thought that I were out of my mind.  There are occasions of burnout too everyone experiences that I also experience.  Of course in reality I am only literally meaning what I say.  Whether there are ups and downs, I acknowledge that I am imperfect as I am; I cannot please everybody.

Ich schwore, that is just me.  I could probably use a hand sometimes.

Turn Down For What?!

You there!  Yes, you!

Please excuse me…. Umm-YOLO!

This is how I express myself.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Breaking free!  This is how I express myself. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Okay, okay.  Really sorry for the abbreviation, because I rarely use them in my writing (it is just not my  etiquette), but guess what: You only live once.  Romance.  Risks.  Life and death situations.  Fight-or-flight.  Or the other way round.  Shame.  Attitude.  Opportunities.  Courage.  Determination.  It is worth the risk.  So take it, god damn it.

This is just a simple little life project of mine, some scheduled before I get married, some scheduled before I think I want to die. I am an expressionist when it comes to art and things like these; I believe in self-expression. I am always wanting to go beyond what I think I can do and do as much as I can, with the time I have in hand.  I am always on the lookout for opportunities, spreading out my dendrites bare naked to really savor the sweet fruits of work.

Life happens, of course, and there is going to be a teeny-weeny little switch in the way things are every now and then.  You just got to adapt.

Just like me and my best friend, partner in crime for life, and love.  He said time will tell, and as time ticked by the minutes, he awakened my soul.  His existence brought a whole new level of experience to me, incorporating more actions and deep thoughts about sharing beautiful times.  Making me think seriously, how do I want to do what I want to do tomorrow?  With whom?

Below is my list:

I want to express myself through music, writing, the eclectic arts, and the sciences.

I want to dance in the rain.

I want to fly with or without wings.

I want to bungee-jump off the mountains in New Zealand.

I want to travel around the world.

I want to explore the earth like a wanderlust.

I want to sky-dive.

I want to climb the highest mountain in the Himalayas.

I want to dive around beautiful Grecian islands in the Mediterranean.

If there is an expedition to Pluto, I want to go too.

What he calls the Rock-Star Personality, because I am always, always wanting to do anything and everything right away.  But he wants me to sit and wait for the moment to happen, because he really, really wants to come along with me.  And I want him to come along with me, too.  I feel kind of sad when we do not do something together.  It is just the way I feel.  Some parts of life can be so hard, but the thing is we will survive.  These are beautiful times.

The only drawback is the fact that right now I am kind of confined to my studies, but only for a little while.  I hope everyone will be a little patient and hold on, because my journey has not ended yet.  From a positive perspective, I sense a lot of excitement in the air.  The vibes are vibrating vigorously between the particles; a whole aura of happiness is beaming between the neutrons and protons, the charges canceling each other out because of the equilibrium, thus making the charge positive.  Sometimes it is too positive I cannot hide… but wait!  I got stuff to do which will be done soon enough, so please, please, please be patient with me, and be good.

At times when it rains so bad the roofs start shaking, I want to go out and dance in the rain.  I want to get wet, so wet that I am drained.  I want to jump off the cliff even, and fall so freely there is nothing to do except living in the moment.  I want to shake, and shake, and shake it all.  I want to break free, and experience life right now, right as it is.  The Blitzkreig, with its natural warring attitude-that I want to fight along also.  And I do not care,  because these make me feel so fulfilled.

You should join me too.  Come on.  Fasten your seat belts.  Ready.  Jump! Beeil Dich. Yallah.

Love,

Red Scarlet

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Turn Down For What?! by Alicia Ai Leng is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at https://theladyintheredscarfmindtalks.wordpress.com/.

Heartbeat

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Do I look like I have won a battle in my dreams or something? (Photo credits to Ekamil Razali)

At times I find myself blungeoning deep down into the abyss of deeply-crested emotions.  My self is lost, fully submerging into an array of resounding heartbeats that pierce through the ear canal with as much pitch as the sound of gunshot.  As I descend, countless questions bombard my existence, some so easy I could simply hurl them back wherever they came from, some so difficult they nearly crush me with all their weight.

In all the mania of drama, yes, I am in reality, hurt.  Tired of the predispositions I have been placed in.  For no one knows not what I long for.  There exists this consistent battle between the silent heart and the beautiful mind.  Sometimes, the heart wins; sometimes, the mind.  Sometimes the heart and mind find a way to work together amicably, amidst all battle – and that, I tell you, that is a very funny thing.

Which is so because they have to please the Soul, a wondrous piece of art, mere atoms framed synchronously in position.  For the body is to live.

And when this occurs, gallant music orchestrates out from within the Chambers of Life, through the arteries, all the way up to the Pineal Gland, where the Soul sits.  His Eyes gaze forbiddingly, as if he had been forced to wait for the answers for too long.  His Ears catch the first notes of violin softly humming from far below.  Slowly, gradually, the harmony echoes through the empty space of flesh and blood, filling the entire abode of humanity.  As if the battle has been won.  It has, in its own way.

As for the Body – She triumphs.

Red Scarlet

Confessions of a Drama Queen

Use your emotions wisely.

Utilize your emotions with a little bit of wisdom; that definitely would not hurt, would it.

No, no, I am not a superstar… at least not yet.  That I profess.  It is still a long road to travel.

As much as I am, I am not.  It is a matter of self-control, not entirely suppression.  It is a matter of selective demonstration.  In other words, mindfulness.

Being aware of what the self is up to – it really could be just about anything.  An enormous wave of silence is extremely helpful  in such periods of self-discovery.  Oh well, since I mentioned self-discovery, I view life as one endless Self-Discovery Channel, which one could switch back and forth to refresh the mind and hopefully gain some form of experience from it.

I know I laugh a little too much – a bit awkward – but that was only my release, you know.

I know I kind of cry too, at times; that was another way for me to release.  Just in case you have not noticed, but of course you have not.

Whatever I have done, it is only human that I did so.  It has been a hell lot of fun watching each chapter unfold on its own.  However, all of nature allows that even the strongest mind – and heart – will face a load of bricks hurling straight at his thoughts and smashing them and shattering them to a thousand pieces.  And all the poor soul must do, of course, is break down and pour out seemingly endless streams of tears from the corners of the eyelids.

Nature permits release of emotions in subtle ways; why else would there be several facial muscles, twitching all together at once, to put up that sweet smile on that pretty face, and thence light up the world around.

There also is Anger, and Pain, and Hurt, and Jealousy – but the mind shall choose as it pleases what it wishes to display.

Just a part of life.

Red Scarlet

 

Dance Like No One is Watching

All right – I shall admit it. This is what I do nearly every night. Everyday too, almost. My imagination finds me standing in the middle of nowhere (or somewhere, if you would like). It is definitely a barren land that bears no fruit and offspring, because in my longing for quietness and alone-ness, there is no one else.

It is the tipping point of the id, the breaking line between ego and the superego. Where the self is able to completely perceive the presence of every Tom, Dick, and Harry out there… but does not give a damn.

Dance like no one is watching. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Peace.

Red Scarlet

What Did The Fox Say?

I shall tell you what the Fox said.

I am sitting on a public commute on my way back from work.  Headphones plugged in both ears; I have been enjoying the music playlist in my Nokia Lumia for a big portion of my trip already.

This was what the godforsaken Fox told me.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

This was what the godforsaken Fox told me. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Music composes a huge part of my life – no, not quite the way you suppose though.  Stress drains itself away in music … my music.  I have learnt to shake it all as well.  Not completely; however I am at the very least doing all I can within my power.  Not that it is hard, there is just a lot to shake! Music, like sponge, lets the past slowly soak up.

As I jot these precious words on my notepad, my head is rocking in tune to the music.  As, it is just one of the methods I utilize to sort of keep my mind in good shape, for want of a better word.  Only one of the gazillion ways.

The mind, in order to set thoughts in ink, is in dire need to indulge itself in precious quiet time.  The thoughts – no, the words whispering along the wires of neurons in the mass of gray matter – probably make a smooth birth out of the canal of stillness.

Such conceptualization of ideas procreate a concrete framework as the words connect and mature.

Let the dear heart maketh peace for the beautiful mind that the whispering words may frolick about and find their way amongst one another.  Let the emotions, however far off or deep they may be, seep through the intricate web of neural connections.  Oh, and let love and madness define themselves!  The soul may wander in the dreams to lands covered in mists, but it shall, as it always has, return to its Abode to bring full Life to the very hand that spells not, word by word, ever so diligently.

I am about to arrive at my stop now.  One flip of the coin , and my expression switches to a sulky queen unflattered by nonsensical subjects.

Why not.

What Did The Fox Say is ringing straight in my ears.

I presume I have already answered that godforsaken question.

 

My Psychoanalysis

It is now September 14, 2014 – an extremely hot, sunny day.  I have just finished lunch, and replied some company stuff, so now I have another fifteen minutes to do some writing.

I have to admit – my mind is racing!  Okay, let’s relax a little bit.

My Psychoanalysis.  (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

My psychoanalysis. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

You see, I am very aware that I have an incredible pal to maintain.  She is still in her youth, yet unlike the rest of the infants her age, she has this beautiful, captivating silence.

She is always here, there, everywhere to me.  For me.  There is no one as patient as she is who listens a full, absolute 100% to every rant, every muse, and every single glimmer, hope, and love, and lust that exists in my heart at any point of time.  The best part is that she is always behind me as I walk  through life’s little and big journeys.  She shares my delight with me; and when I wound up in a dead end, she helps to guide me back to the open roads again so others can see me.  That is why I invest a lot of effort in setting the stage for her appearances.

She is my sexy psychologist of whom I have grown totally fond of, my very own psychoanalysis.  She does not just exist for me; she lives for you too, and that is very incredible.  I may be visiting her a little lesser these days due to my working around the clock, but I still post her my love letters every now and then.

P.  S.  I am not a lesbian.  I am in love with who I am.  Peace!

Red Scarlet