Fragments

I guess I should at least acknowledge that London has been bombed. But I have nothing much to say about it. Was shocked when I first heard it from Chern, turning on the TV expecting to see smoking ruins. There was...nothing. It was the emptiness of the city that was disturbing, I guess.

But it could have been worse. On one level, it is always sad that a person has to die at all, and for such a pointless cause as this. And there's the frustration that no matter what we do, we'll never gain the initiative in this war, and the terrorists will always be able to choose when and where to strike. But it could have been worse. nearly 50 dead, but the scale is entirely different from the trauma experienced on September 11. And why don't people feel as much for the millions that die from hunger worldwide? Because their deaths are not as glamorous, or not as visible? What about the Iraqis, for which something like this happens every other day in Baghdad?

I do have to say, though, that the Londoners' resilience was admirable. There was definitely a grim resolve on the first night on BBC to weather this storm, and Londoners calling on the memories of the Blitz and the IRA bombings. They sure aren't new to this kind of thing. Beyond that, I don't have any more to say. Just that I hope that they don't react as badly as the Americans (though to be fair the Americans had to deal with a far greater shock). And that they (and we) acknowledge that the degree of trauma is based also on a certain novelty value.

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Yesterday evening, went for Ray's birthday party. Hehheh, what a spectacle! A spread of Mediterranean seafood, with all sorts of fish, crustaceans, cheeses and four types of olives! It was the first time I ate olives with pits, and it was grand =) I love the smoky salty taste of olives, and the rather meaty texture. No other fruit actually comes close to the experience of eating olives. And the desserts! Peach tart, a white chocolate cake, cheesecakes, mousse, expresso cake, almond jelly, compotes...Good grief, I'm going back there for my birthday, I have to say =P

I wonder what it was like to be Ray's little sis, though. To be sure, sitting among a bunch of 20 classmates must be quite awkward, when you haven't had the shared experiences and can hardly tell what they are talking about. But I guess she would have her own birthday extravaganza too. I wonder what's wrong with me...when she was opening her presents, I kept thinking, what shall we do with her little sis?

But it was definitely a fun night, in the really posh Hotel Intercontinental, and everyone dressed up (of course, the standard was set by the girls =P), chatting about school. Rather funny, actually, the incongruity between our concerns and the high-class luxury of the restaurant around us. And got a chance to play the guitar too, the good old classical that no one could hear over the hullabaloo =P But I guess that would be the last time that we're going to do something like that for a long time. The pressure of time passing is now a constant weight. I don't know how long more we can last as a class...

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New library building looks spectacular in the evening light. The beautiful curves, that strange pod on the roof, and the spectacular multistorey (or multistory, as the case may be =P) gardens lit by softly glowing lights. That is one beautiful building. I can feel myself being inspired by it...the curves and the planes all enticing, defying common sense and familiarity, a building in harmony with itself but not its surroundings. A stylish building, but also a warm and intriguing one. When it opens on the 22nd, I intend to be there.

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Many people engaged in a discussion about the nature of love on Kels's LJ. I find discussions like these uniformly frustrating, because in the end we end up going round and round in circles, and we always end up with the same conclusion, that you have to experience it to know it. It's because our notions of love are all different, and we can't express ourselves to the satisfaction of other people. I guess with so many shades and degrees of meaning and experience encompassed in the macroconcept of love, it is an attractive notion to think that there is an overarching symmetry and unity to be discerned in the flux and disorderliness. I myself believe that there is an overarching love, because it's such a compellingly beautiful concept. But I can't kid myself - whether or not one believes there is a perfect overarching love very rarely affects how one acts and portrays or expresses love in a real world context. People seemingly idealistic in their philosophical outlook can be incredibly cold and ungenerous in real life. Again, not only the communication gulf, but also the gulf between the philosophical and the real.

Love is a point of belief, I think. True love is a matter of faith. It seems so painfully academic to be arguing about its true nature.

pondered by phoenican @ 10.7.05