Discretion or Inspiration?

Was down at the Cathay an hour or so back for a little R&R and guess what I saw.

A beauty isn't it?

Well, say "aye" if you're a car fanatic as you'll probably know where I'm coming from. But that wasn't all...

Oh. My. God.

An ENTIRE row of Astons. Right in front of me. I swear, the radius of a hundred meters around me was probably worth well over millions.

Though Astons aren't exactly my personal favorites, this spectacle would probably wow typical car junkies.

I soon found out the reason for such a gathering.

Apparently, Cathay was gearing up (pun intended) for the premier launch of the latest Bond Movie, Quantum of Solace (out in theaters in a couple of days).

And thus explaining the reason behind all the Astons parked there. Talk about a publicity stunt.

Alright, time for a little update.

I've noticed a trend in my post frequencies as of recent durations. No, blogging hasn't converted itself into a weekly affair; I'm just too caught up with school work and the such. The added disadvantage of not having stable access to the internet during weekdays further amplifies this issue.

But fret not readers, articles and updates will be posted soon and in fact, I'm actually considering registering metallic-stains as an independent domain by itself.

This is very subjective though, due to various factors (ie. costs) and simply due to the fact that the idea came along as a random thought.

Week 4 marks the start of various ICAs and for my readers who require clarification about the abbreviation, its simply your average graded assignment (ie. project presentations, written tests).

I realized that creativity is the essence of success as seen in multiple cases (like Apple Corporation for example). Sure, there's a certain degree of difficulty in being creativity, but I believe that everyone is creative to a large extent thus there is no excuse for success.

On a side note, I never thought that time would fly so (freaking) fast. Barely a year ago, I would be cooped up in my house, viciously mugging and remembering as much detail as I possibly can in preparation of the O level examinations.

There are certain events in life that can literally break or make a person and I guess that this crude and somewhat critical education system that we're currently in does have its positive outcomes as well.

At this point in time, I would like to share a little narrative that I thought about while in the shower a couple of days back (told you guys that one of my main periods of thought occurs during showers didn't I?) and here goes;

"

A cold winter morning blew a bitter chill over the flat country lands. Everyone left in search of new hope when the immerse colds struck. While only a few others decided to pursue seemingly broken dreams in the harsh waste land.

The farmer was one of them.

This plot of land was the only thing he had owned in his entire life and not even the harshest of winds would have deterred his will to stay rooted there. In a way, it was more than just a home to him.

Yes, winter had come early this year in this region but as usual during this period, everyone in the country left towards warmer urban areas, in hopes of new opportunities. Only the old or sickly was left behind, largely reluctant to leave due to emotional bonds similar to that of the farmer.

But the farmer was only 18 of age.

There was something different about him for sure. While others of his age had snubbed the idea of staying in the country, he saw what he needed to do here and has thus decided on his decision to stay.

As the farmer sat down in his small shack shared with his elderly parents, massive sacks of seeds surrounded him. He knew that winter would soon end and it would be time. Time to make a change and time to move on.

The farmer wasn't without ambition; he had big plans for this land he had valued so much over development. One day, he told himself, people will see the value of country lands.

Indeed, he has studied the lands in the country for one too many years and had thought that he knew everything there is to know. But what he didn't learn was that every winter was different from the previous, a crucial detail that he ignorantly overlooked which he'll soon pay a deep price for.

Soft cracks presumed as the farmer diligently separated and sorted out the seeds.

-

Too many bone biting winter chills had passed since the farmer sat in his shack, sorting the seeds out. He knew that winter was about to end, and before he slept that night, he prayed to whichever god he knew, asking for the dawn of a new hope and chapter in his life.

The grim overcast skies of dawn showed no improvement. A crack, however, soon printed itself in the center of the vast greyness. Slowly but surely, it widen and a golden ray of warmth and hope pieced the dull monotony of the country side.

The farmer felt warmth on his face as he stirred in bed. He smiled with his eyes still closed for he knew that the time was here.

-

The seeds were all planted in the vast area of land that the farmer owned and valued more than anything else. And with a satisfied look from his face as he viewed his pass week's effort to plant the seeds, he felt confident about his progress. His aged parents too, felt his confidence and they too, basked in it.

The coming of spring saw the return of the those who left and new faces in the country.

The farmer knew that they wouldn't last the winter as they would probably be too impatient and thus made no efforts to befriend them.

-

A festive-like atmosphere soon filled the country side. The farmer visited the country's market square only to find tents and bonfires being erected and smiling faces filled the streets.

It was a common sight in the non-winter seasons as considerable numbers flocked to the market square to gather supplies, interact as well as soak in the various festivals that spurred the people in the region of the country side.

After a quick visit to the local blacksmith (he needed a new pitch fork), the farmer decided to stop by the animal vendors to check out the livestock, vital to any farm though he never had money to afford a proper investment as such.

As soon as he turned the corner, his eyes met with another; dark brown pupils with beautifully framed eye lashes. Shifting out of focus, he saw the face which the eyes belonged.

The girl was beautiful, easily the most appealing ones he's seen in his entire life. A confused look framed her face as she held an arm to her hips while the other griped a belled staff tightly, as if anticipating an attack.

A shepherd! The farmer had never expected one of her kind in these regions for the lack of need for wool; there was simply no economy here for such a trade to exist as people only came to the country side during the warmer seasons of the year.

The shepherd looked away as the farmer muttered his apologies for bumping in like that.

"Oh, its alright. Can I interest you in some sheep for your farm?"

The farmer wasn't looking for sheep to even start with, probably a chicken or a pig but a sheep had never crossed his mind, and thus decided to dismiss that offer.

The shepherd looked dejected and turned the other way as she slowly walked back to her herd of sheep in the distance.

"But wai..."

She never looked back.

-

Day after day, the farmer headed back to that very same spot in hopes of "bumping" into the shepherd again, largely to no avail. Traders never stayed in one place for too long and he knew of that only too well.

But since that fateful meeting, he felt a strong connection with the shepherd. As if someone had sent her there, only to make him suffer day and night as thoughts of her filled his mind.

On his usual round one day, he decided that he wasn't going to come back tomorrow, or the day after, or even the month after that. In essence, he had given up, physically, though his mind betrayed that emotion.

He look out a piece of paper, wrote a note and hammered it onto a nearby wooden lamp post.

The farmer didn't come back the next day, nor did he the day after or the week after. But in his mind the prospect of the shepherd remained vivid, as if hinting that there was a possibility of hope.

-

As the months passed, the farmer's crops grew but harvest was poor as compared to previous years. Evidently, the farmer was disappointed; it would be a really tough winter this time, to tide through, if they were able to even make it at all.

The autumn months brought about rains to the country side, and by now, people were already evacuating, with rumors spreading of a horrible winter ahead; the worse in the country's recorded history.

Floods were on the feared tongues of land owners and the farmer too, had to be on the alert.

The morning will bring new hope, the farmer thought to himself as he climbed onto his bed as fell asleep. A soft rumble, barely audible, vocalized in a distance just as the farmer fell asleep...

(END OF PART 1)

"

Okay I'll stop here. Hopefully there's a hook factor in this narrative. I'll continue and conclude the story soon. Feel free to share your thoughts about the narrative above. I'm as always, open to feedback.

On a random note, I think people misjudge and misunderstand the term "emo" namely, emo music. I've developed a recent liking for emotional songs, probably due to occurrences as well as being able to relate to a distinct few.

Call me weird.

Alright, its late and time for bed. More content coming soon on metallic-stains so please check back often.

Cya'll later.

"This Heart, it Beats"
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Now playing: Paramore - My Heart
via FoxyTunes