Attentional Bias

For what it's worth, you can't find what you're looking for, unless you know what you were looking for. The legendary Sherlock Holmes said so himself (not sure the source, so it's either I did read it, or my memory is playing construction games again).

Hence when you set out with pre-conceived notions, it might very well be the case that you disregard any other pertinent observations that do not fall in line with your theory. Attentional bias is a very astounding mechanism. It preserves identity and prevents overload of the cognitive system. At the same time, naturally, it allows for an efficient but potentially inaccurate summary of the events that occur in your external environment. The concern involves the implicit trust that we place in these automatic processes.

I wonder why we don't ever question the assumptions by which we operate, when the mind must be about the safest context we can hope to take on such risks. It appears almost as if the brain were only meant for involuntary regulatory functions. Perhaps most people do not know how to identify their underlying assumptions to start with. But I would have you know, it's much like considering the possibilities of any option to infinity. Even the absurd ones (yes, for a good laugh! =p).

But ok, I'd have to admit it's easier said than done. My inadequacy is displayed in full flourish whenever I go shopping. After perhaps 10 whole years of practice (and this estimate is conservative), I still fail to grasp the intricacies involved. So much has got to be considered before the assurance of a satisfying purchase can be made possible. Sometimes I suspect one could only be a fortune-teller in order to actually be able to anticipate the various inconveniences that might crop up in the course of an excursion in your new outfit.

My list of questions for self-interrogation normally goes like this:
1) Is it pretty? Is it different?
2) Does it fit? Does it flatter me?
3) Colour too normal? Too loud?
4) Will everyone else on the street be wearing the same?
5) What occasion could I wear it to?
6) Do I have clothing to match?
7) What about shoes?
8) Material suitable for machine-wash?
9) Will it stretch and go out of shape when it's hung out to dry?
10) Anything else I should consider...?

And it's always the last question that utterly trips me. Most pieces of clothing I bring home wouldn't measure up as well as they did in the fitting room. And of course I should have known that the pants might be hanging too low on my hips to NOT be revealing whenever I sit, or that it might CREASE up in unsightly ways when I start taking strides like I usually do; or that slit in the mini-skirt will totally stretch open because people MOVE, or it might be perpetually too tight for my tummy not to show, or too long for casual outings; and so my rantings go on and on...

And yes, they were all there right from the beginning. It's just hilarious how I don't see it until it's too late.

Speechless

If a picture paints a thousand words,
Then why can't I paint you?
The words will never show,
That you I've come to know.

****************

The naked mole rat is a pinkish-grey, furless, wrinkled little rodent. For a long time, he was too caught up in his own burrowed world to recognize the sunlight and all the life it inspired. Then one day, he peeped up at the surface and was greeted with a deep breath of fresh air. His lungs exploded with exhilaration.

The endless range of open spaces and their vibrant depiction ignited his passion for existence. He held onto every single day. He spent every waking moment soaking up the sun. He embraced its energy and warmth. Every dark cool night was spent in anticipation for the next promise of dawn. Like an overwhelming stream of thoughts racing through his brain; no longer left wanting.

The sun inquired the reason for such absolute devotion. He turned and simply said, "Just you".

****************

I love you too.

A Tribute

It was a good three years you gave me. And I shall always treasure the moments we shared. The times you saw me through and the joy you brought me I shall surely not forget.

You know, you were the sweetest creature. Ever so mild tempered. In the face of illness and age, you remained good natured to the end. You were never impatient with me, but instead displayed tenacity in your will to survive. It was I who became disheartened as I saw you slowly wither with each passing day.

You were the cutest baby. And the most faithful companion to your brother. As you matured, I learned to appreciate the sharp chin and knowing eyes. You were good-looking :) Your fur was the delicate mix of brown with a tinge of grey. And that streak down the middle of your back was so reminiscent. Your parents would have been so proud of you.

As I gradually busied myself with the outside world, I thought you turned into a burden of mine. It was one more responsibility I had to cater for. Making sure you had clean food, fresh water, new bedding; perhaps my dad finally decided I was doing such a slipshod job he took the liberty to improve things on his own...But it was you accomodating me all along.

There's a space in this house that will always belong to you. That spot which now seems starkly empty. Perhaps it's the blinding white tiles that are creating a optical illusion, but somehow the lack in the place you occupied doesn't stop staring out at me. I wish I could have spent more years with you, but I guess we all move on sometime. And if your time now is no longer meant with me, you have all of my blessings on your next embark.

Fox and the Fruit Garden

Nope, foxes don't prey on gullible sheep like us biased, petty humans choose to believe. They totally get hung up on organic fruit cultivated with the most rigorous tender loving care in the finest orchards; actually, only one orchard in particular. And only one fox that I speak of.

So the story goes that one day, as this pleasant, very humane fox was going on his usual rounds of prying into nobody's business, he caught glimpse of this most wonderful fruit garden. Its soil bursting with all the juicy magnificence of red, yellow, and orange! He conceived of the euphoria that would ignite at the touch of his tongue to the cool texture. What a moment of transcendence.

Encircling the orchard was a tall wooden fence whose height reached further than the sky. Our poor hero got dizzy just thinking about looking up; he would never do it to climb over the barrier. But his preoccupation drove him to daily marches around its perimeter, come rain or shine. His efforts were finally rewarded when he noticed one keyhole of a crevice tucked neatly from sight by the heaping weeds. It was small, alright. He would have to lose a tiny bit of weight to gain entrance into his paradise. Such a very insignificant price to pay for an abundance of gratification. He reveled in his good fortune :)

That happy day eventually arrived and he found himself on the other side. One could not even begin to imagine the rate at which he feasted. His mouth was open for a longer time than when he had all four wisdom teeth extracted in a single sitting. You could literally watch his lean arms turn muscular. And then he was satisfied. He rolled over for a well-deserved nap.

He awoke to clear blue skies and warm sunshine. From afar the laughter of playing children drifted to his ears with the touching breeze. Birds were chirping in melodious synchrony to his leisurely roam. He detected his outlet back to the rest of civilization and began squirming with a complacent smug on his face. He was proud of having accomplished his plan so smoothly. And then he felt a pain sear through his body as a splinter jabbed at his ribs. He was stuck.

He would have to lose a tiny bit of weight to gain exit into his paradise. But isn't it such a very insignificant price to pay for an abundance of gratification? He amused himself with that thought :) After a few days naturally, he made it out to the other side.

And then he caught glimpse of this most wonderful fruit garden. Its soil bursting with all the juicy magnificence of red, yellow, and orange! He conceived of the euphoria that would ignite at the touch of his tongue to the cool texture. What a moment of transcendence.

*****TheEnd*****

The work's not original; I must have read it on the web somewhere. I acknowledge my sources with much gratitude. A good story goes a long way.

In Other Words

Maroon. It's become the colour of my memories. Remember we sat there laughing over the littlest things. Only once, yet so vividly imprinted on my mind...

Totally. That's your pet phrase which has also become mine. You added Blissfully to the list. But I can't bear to sound out that word, now that you're no longer near...

Butterflies. How I wish I had had them immortalized. I keep thinking about the experiment you designed. You know being right about nail polish means nothing at all, if there's no one with whom to share the joy...

Envelopes. In my favourite colour too. The pictures we drew are the only ones I'd frame up. In case there won't be another time...

You make me laugh. And then you made me cry...

I miss you.

Counterfactual Thinking

I heard the phenomenon was initially observed from photos of competition winners. First runners-up consistently appeared with a more solemn expression than second runners-up. It would almost seem prestige was awarded in the order of 1st, 3rd, 2nd. Social researchers attribute the disatisfaction to a heightened sense of loss. These players speculate over what outcome might have been, should they have done things just slightly differently. The position of champion was so near, now yet so far. Perhaps personal best had not been achieved, but most would deny the notion of greater capabilities apart from oneself. Nothing more than a great deal of self-delusion.

And counterfactual thinking results in puffy eyes. Against your knowledge. Which is why most of us retain absurd theories about lack of sleep, stress, or even excessive crying, as the main culprits. The fact is when the mind takes leave to dwell upon past issues, your consciousness no longer operates in the present. You know not really what you do. As if everything occured in a trance. It's definitely not my idea of fun.

Fortunately, minds are volatile socialites (at least mine is), and they have the relieving tendency to drift between dimensions. At the enticement of foreign clarion calls, it propels back into the current because there is never anything as fulfilling as vacuous chaffer.

Unfortunately too, when I'm alone my stick-in-the-mud of a brain takes it to be the equivalence of idling. By which time it is promptly transported into the realm of Impossibility. Perhaps it's beguiling here where the semblances are endless; even if the marvellous conjurations conclude there where they begin. Yet like an addiction, it only draws you in.

寻找那最终的天堂

Much as I fiercely guarded my independance and insisted on my own destiny, I used to think that I needed strong shoulders to lean upon. It wouldn't matter, then, whoever should happen to be the owner of those pillars of support. For it cannot be underestimated the extent to which solitude can compromise a person's resolve. And the reason being obvious: To feel wanted. Be it strengths or weaknesses. The whole and the impaired alike. Like the supporting cast wishes to be just as loudly applauded.

Although things don't work that way, if you hadn't already realized. At least I won't let it. I still hold on to the belief that there's someone out there made for you. He's the one you need this lifetime. Not merely a source of comfort and refuge. Not because his pretty face takes your breath away. Nor because his kindness leaves your will defenseless. More than just another stimulating conversationalist. But because he simply is. One doesn't fall in love with neither charming eyes nor luscious lips. Neither intellectual debates nor virtuous attributes. Don't fall for an impression, fall in love with him!

And if ever someone needs you like you need him, that's when you know, you just might have uncovered what's been worth the waiting for =)

If One Day

Have you ever suffered a heartache? It's what happens when someone touches your heart, and then decides to let go. At that very same moment, your heart laments its indelible fate that it would never again be given the choice to stop beating. And so this wondrous muscle starts to ache in a somewhat exaggerated, prolonged fashion. So as to allow you the full extent of its musing.

I remember the moment it all began. We were at the bus-stop near my place. I asked if you had seen my note. You simply murmured; to think you wouldn't even have confronted the issue if I hadn't plucked up every ounce of courage in my soul to do so...And then I told you what I thought was best for you. I wanted you to be happy. You only smiled.

When I reached home, I wondered why my cheeks were moist. And then the wrenching inside of me was palpable. So now I sit around to fight back the tears. I try to run whenever I can. It's still true speed creates miracles in setting the head back on reality. But did you know it does nothing to purge a broken heart. I find no other way out.

If one day time should come to a standstill for me, and I could attempt the most reckless of behaviours without abiding by the consequences; I would have you know, that I resent model answers the world over.