Paper Aeroplanes

A couple of weeks ago, I was talking to my former band leader, Kelvyn Yeang. We were talking about the new songs I've been writing, and he told me that he was interested to "hear" what the lyrics sounded like. (I blog my new compositions and lyrics here.) So, I promised a quick demo with a bit of piano so that he can get a feel of what the music was supposed to sound like too.

Intermission: Kelvyn Yeang is the band leader of the very successful, Ocean of Fire. I used to sing for them back in 2005. Now, they're back to being an instrumental band. They secured a good second place in the Asian Beat finals this year (yes, that's against other asian countries) and Kelvyn won the "Best Guitarist" label. Well, deserved. Nevertheless, Ocean of Fire is still Asian Beat's Malaysian Champions. They bagged the Best Guitarist, Best Bassist, Best Drummer titles in the Malaysian Finals. And the only titles they couldn't attain were because they had no vocalist or keyboardist. No kidding. *smiles* By the way, if you, for some reason, prefer videos over audio convenience on their myspace sites, check out this awesome Ocean of Fire video then!

Kelvyn is a great moral support and encouragement when it comes to my music. He's always interested and this really motivates me to go on writing stuff. Needless to say, I've been pretty reclusive about most of my stuff till lately. (And that's thanks to my best friend. He gives the best pep talks!) I have this thing of belittling the stuff that i do or come up with, i tend to answer questions for other people, without giving them OR my work a chance. I'm slowly breaking out of that shell. Nudge me if you hear me going down that whirpool again. *smiles*

But I digress.

I'm supposed to be talking about my recent composition. So anyway, a couple of weeks after my promise, I officially have a sketchy recording (that i had trouble controlling at first) to give Kelvyn, or anyone really, a basic idea of how my song, "Paper Aeroplanes" should sound like. And it was fun. Seriously. I really can picture myself doing this for the rest of my life. This is one of the only things that i am really passionate about (after God).

This recording starts immediately at the first verse (which means it lacks an intro), goes heavy into the chorus as if the song had alreay built up and was ending (hence the many layers of vocals), and then ends abruptly mid-verse 2. If you, for some reason, were interested in listening to my one minute's worth "demo" track, go here.

To those who haven't frequented my Lyrics Blog much (you fall into the same category, if you didn't before know such a place existed), here are the lyrics to Paper Aeroplanes.

Paper Aeroplanes (a work in progress...)
Music and Lyrics by Phoebe Lee Matthews

Verse I:
Paper aeroplane
it flies
i remain
and i'm left envious
wishing i
was engineered
to fly, to
disappear
to where there
are no fears
where i can
rest in knowing
you are near...

Pre-chorus:
i'm too afraid
of moving
i'm seeing red
instead of green
i'm feeling dead
though living
i'm moving straight
when i should be
turning...

Chorus:
How can i breakaway
when everything moves in a wheel
Can i just step ahead
when everything else lays so still
i need to get to you
before i lose sight of
everything hoped for
and everything yearned for
in...

Verse II:
paper aeroplanes
they unfold
yet i'm the same
i wish to be
that piece of white
heaving darkness to the light

Disclaimer: Yes, i played the piano and yes, i may suck like a vaccuum but this is just for people to get the basic idea of the song. The quality of the recording is not so good and i beg you not to give me a hard time about this. This song was also not meant for the piano entirely, but i can't play the guitar well....yet.

Thanks for bearing with. *salutes*

Fictility

The Concept of Being Fictile

- by Phoebe Lee Matthews

(A Friend...?)

Fictility is, in large ways, a benefit to all humankind. Without flexibility, there will be no change. And without constant change, there will be no progress. Aside that, fictility contributes to blossoming and succesful social lives. Communication would not just be streamed into categories of conversation in accordance to groups with singular, common interests. In presence of fictility, there will be intersections of interests; for example - healthy marriages, or crossovers, of the arts and sciences. Come to think of it, though it may sound crazy, fictility inclines people to be more open and tolerant to new and different concepts or ideas. Apart the things I've mentioned, it also promotes excellence. People would be delving into more than just one field of expertise, as they would be "versatile" enough to do so. Countries greatly profit from such; so inadvertently, fictility affects the world.

(Or Fiend...?)

Amidst all the wondrous things that fictility has got to offer, one question arises. Does being fictile, compromise who we are? More often than not, some would argue that the concept of being fictile would deter us from being true to ourselves; in terms of views, values, culture, beliefs and ideas. Would fictility cause us to drop our standards in order to accept another? Would it cause abandonment of culture, to embrace all?Some may say that it is a direct opposition to the concept of self-expressionism; arguing that it hinders an individual from being his or her true self, as there would be too many things to consider.

As an attempt to answer this befuddling question, we'd have to view the deal in 2 extremes. Fictility to a certain extent is definitely important, in order to acquire the much needed balance or equilibrium that we lack today. But fictility in excess, might cause the eventual demise of human variation. When we are ourselves, we vary. We're different. Fictility may (more often than not) influence us to be more saturated to the common norm. Hence, in doing so, we're unintentionally abdicating our usual bizarre multifariousness.

(Conclusion...?)

Fictility: Good or bad?

I don't know, really. It's alright to a certain extent, I suppose. And everything in excess, although good, is poison.

You decide.

Glossary

Friend : You

Fictility : Flexibility

Crazy : the state you are in if you don't know the meaning of the word.

Fiend : Evviillll

Question : a statement that requires some sort of answer; unless rhetorical.

Bizarre : Phoebe

Multifariousness : variation; different types of a something (somewhere around those lines)

Want a second opinion? www.m-w.com

(Friend or Fiend concept : www.makingfiends.com)

Beautiful

by Phoebe Lee Matthews

"I'm unclean."
"You are beautiful."
"You don't understand - I'm dirty."
"You are beautiful."
"No, I'm deluged in my iniquity and I've hurt so many."
"You are beautiful."
"I've betrayed my friends. I'm selfish. I'm arrogant!"
"You are beautiful."

"I don't understand. How do you see beauty in my wretchedness?"
"I see who you're meant to be. You are meant to be beautiful."
"I'm too far gone. I cannot be beautiful!"
"Come with me. I will make you beautiful."
"Surely this is not possible. How certain are you?"
"Believe in me. Only I can. If you let me, I will make you beautiful again."

"Please. Make me beautiful, like you."
"But you are beautiful. Do you now believe me? I have always seen you as such."
"I am only beautiful because you are."
"You have finally come to, my beloved, my beautiful. You reflect me, and hence, you are beautiful."

You are Beautiful. Know that.

When Wednesday Met Thursday

by Phoebe Lee Matthews

Darkness.
...was all I could see when Wednesday met Thursday. My timepiece indicated an incredibly foreign hour of the morning. Couldn't really understand my body's enthusiasm to meet the day. Neither could i comprehend why an ingenius and divine concept, such as sleep, could ever be this elusive. Pure in-

Sanity.
...is what I have in moderate amounts these days. A shame, that. 'Tis sanity that keeps most of us afloat, even in the most deplorable of conditions. And this very same trait, I lack. I dislike my insomnia-like moments with great intensity. It robs me of concentration. Retarded, i seem to be, for the better part of the day; and all thanks to the tiny men at war in my already delirious grey matter. Why all the strife, you ask? I'll never really know for sure, but i have some -

Ideas.
...Fulfillment, for one. I guess i'm never quite satisfied with each passing day. It seems like all i ever do is survive. Survive peer pressure, survive obligation, survive bureaucracy, survive iniquity. Next is wretched Conformity. To feel safe, to belong and all that balderdash. We've been taught to follow things blindly and we've all wound up stuck in waist-deep sludge. What a way to live. Barely...

Awake.
...I sullenly watch as my fingers drummed the table in an unsettled fashion. Still uncertain. Did the waist-deep sludge around me ooze out from my very own pores? Or was it just there all along, waiting innocently for some poor cretin to step in it, yell a string of inaudible curses - break into melancholy song ( i.e. Nobody Knows The Trouble I've Seen) and contemplate suicide simultaneously, whilst painfully submerging into the bottomless, tar-like puddle at a disgraceful rate of one centimeter per minute? Either way, I only have myself to blame for being here. Nevertheless, everything in me, the very essence that survives me, cries out to escape the System, to be my own person, to be contrary; different to the reeking normalcy of today's stale-tuna-sandwich culture. Tiny men at war in my head. Conformity Vs. Individuality. The bugle has sounded. The battle is -

ON.
...The bold word returned my blank gaze. I'd been fumbling around in the dark and a bump or two later, the lights had flickered on, swallowing the darkness that once engulfed my personal space. I remained in the deafening silence, eyes still getting accustomed to the shocking brightness that now illuminated every nook and cranny. My finger, still on the switch, lay motionless; frozen-like; as I stood stupefied at the single-syllabled word: ON. Right below was it's regal antonym, in similar print. OFF.

ON.
OFF.
ON.

...How feeble our faith. How feeble our lives. How great the Creator.

OFF.
ON.
OFF.

Darkness.
... was all I could see when Wednesday met Thursday, and when Thursday met Friday, when life met death, when train met tunnel. Just spaces void of -

Light.
... was all I could see as the tunnel approached its end - when life met eternity, when men met God.

Written January, 2006

Take Courage, Have Hope

Playing around with photo-slideshows.

Faith is the evidence of things Hoped for.