Sunday, February 19
Evil never sleeps.Always be vigilant, lest you fall prey to the subtle snares of evil.
Saturday, February 18
People drown themselves in something or other. Some spend all their time engrossed in producing quality work, others indulge in all sorts of pleasure. Some hang out with friends at every opportunity, others prefer to enjoy the company of their families. Some devote their lives to carrying out the work of their religion, others channel all their energy into their relationship with their special other. Some labour endlessly for the extra wad of cash, others use those hours to perfect an art.Once a person finds something to focus on, he shuts out everything else. Slowly but surely, his focal point becomes his destination and destiny. It becomes his life, and what he chose is where he finds his meaning from. It is the one thing that gives him the strength to carry on through the day.
Why is there the overwhelming desire to set a goal and strive for it? Is that how we find meaning in our lives? To feel that we are actually productive people? That we have a purpose in this world? Maybe it is because if we had nothing to focus on, we would have nothing to look forward to every day when we wake up. There would be no reason for living. Is there anything wrong with having no mission to accomplish? Is it against human nature to simply drift aimlessly in the ocean of life?
Is this the norm? Or am I just generalizing? Perhaps people are not really like how I described. Maybe they allocate the time spent on each activity evenly, and have no special preference as to what they like to do.
Friday, February 17
I just killed a giant spider, with a span about the same of a clenched fist. A few hours ago, I killed a silverfish. I have no idea what such a bit spider was doing crawling around my living room, but it sure gives me the creeps.I would not describe myself as an avid insect (or arachnid) killer. In fact, I am even a little squeamish when faced with such creatures. However I must clarify that I do not scream or shout when I come across those nasty little things. I just do not relish the prospect of them catching me unawares and crawling (god forbid) onto me.
The only reason why I bothered enough to kill the silverfish in the toilet was because I have sworn eternal vengeance against their kind. What with all their hiding in old books, giving me a scare when I flip open the cover and find a terrifying silver visage scrambling among the yellowed pages. Worse still is when I discover them lurking in my cupboard of clothes. My overactive imagination fears the day when I will wear my shirt and discover that I have an extra unwanted companion squirming inside. (And what if it's not my shirt, but - god forbid - something even more personal...)
Why I killed that spider was for the simple reason that it was too damned big! Seriously. If I did not kill it, I would not sleep at ease tonight. What if it waits for an unsuspecting victim to appear before jumping out to scare the wits out of the poor fellow? Feeling responsible in this indirect manner, I had no choice but to undertake this course of action to protect my family from such a mind-bending experience. I would not want to live with the guilt that I could have stopped the terror there and then but refused out of pathetic cowardice.
Still, I wonder what the spider was doing. It only had seven legs. Wonder where the other leg ran off to.
I wonder if killing all living things is wrong, like they say in Buddhism. I wonder (god knows) whether any ancient soul was residing within. My dad always tells me that moths are the spirits of our ancestors visiting us. I wonder if I chalked up any bad karma by ending its life.
I left the broken spider lying on the floor. Let someone else clear up the mess. Picking up the twitching body is just too much for me to handle. Maybe (god knows) the ants will have a field day carrying all that meat home.