Friday, May 30, 2008

There is something... about writing.

Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's spectacular (and you never show the spectacular ones because of cos, it might, god forbid, offend some sensibilities). And the downright atrocious are bared shamelessly and slopped all over the public wall. Like here. How very odd.

Some of the best writers in the world were extremely depressed people. Like that Plath woman. Just like why vegetables are good for you but taste so bad. Just as how depression is good for writing but isn't very healthy to cultivate. What price, to write?

It dawned upon me, during one of the million slow-moving minutes in the cubicle today... that I have no more trace of my old poems. The 'sms' poems. The ones whereby I wake in the middle of the night, hit by sudden, silly amatuerish inspiration. Leaps off the bed, eyes wide in the dark, switch on the bright sunlights, grab the phone and record down everything before the dream evaporates from within.

How much writing is based on... a whim. You cannot force yourself to write as and when you want. The pen moves as it pleases, by some unknown force within the Logician. Maybe by the gnome, who, always silent, has decided it is time to commune. But the Logician is not dumb, she is astute enough to understand that the stirrings of the gnome are not to be ignored, no matter how absurd the hour. Opportunity, once foregone, is lost forever. There are no second chances of inspiration.

So the fingers go clickety-click and 21st-century technology aids me in my creations. Within 15 minutes, I produce enough good to send to someone far away. Like a dove on a hell-bent mission my sms flies. But of cos, to compare what I produce to all the great poet friends I have. Is like comparing wanking off to actual sex. Copy-cat but not really there. Barely there. Haha.

Still, poetry's not my cup of tea. Really.

I prefer ... prose. Easier to write, more volumnious. Although I must admit poetry, being tricker, is much more impactful. But even so! Impulsiveness aids the prosaic!

But here is the moment whereby the Logician steps in to reign reason and power over the gnome. Who, under duress, has frequently been tempted to erase all trace of her works. Even the works that were good, just to erase those that are dark and nasty. Wipe off a clean slate. Start afresh. But the Logician knows there is value in history, even shitty ones. Value in angst, even mindless rage. Value in things that after reading, leaves one feeling worse. Because the construction of it, is value itself already. And to forget and erase what you painstakingly create, is a waste of efforts. The Logician, also happens to be an Economist. Hence, the correlation in being thrifty with one's energy.

Words are powerful. I see it when I speak it in front of crowds. And have my little tm fan club in awe before me, supported by third party 'reviews' passed on by word-of-mouth. In a merry-go-round back to the protaganist's ears. Once more affirming her worth, and she grins cos she knows it. Already.

Writing is incredibly narcissistic. To deliver what you write is also very narcissistic. The better you get at this, the more narcissistic things get!


Damn! The Logician and the gnome are in cahoots! A ploy to create worth from basic value.

Once again, I am writing nonsense. But even nonsense has it's logical value. It's an art to skirt around and dance nimbly amongst phrases and adjectives and colourful layers of words.


See?

Heee..


okok, narcissim shall stop here. NOW.

Hmm.

I was THIS close to death today.

THIS close.

The almost-final moment was at the traffic light junction. Walking back home from work, I stopped for the light to change. You know, the roads around my area are similar to upper thomson/mandai roads. Very long, winding, but mine has got more traffic lights. And the traffic lights here are damn deceptive and hard to judge. There will be this loooong never-ending stretch of straight road that makes drivers speed unconciously. Average travelling speed is around 80km here. Then, suddenly, the traffic light can change and people frequently screech to a grinding halt. Many times I awake in the middle of the night to the sound of car crashes. It's always at that particular junction.

At my position, I was closest to the left most lane, supposedly the lane for 'slow'. Only a meter away from the road. The green suddenly turned and this pick-up truck slammed on the breaks. I heard the noise and turned to see it stop in front of me. There was this bigger truck that was tail-gating it.

And in this crystallised moment, a single, calm, matter-of-fact thought entered my head:

"It's gonna bang."

And it did. Crashed spectacularly. The truck in front was slammed forward, the windscreen of the bigger truck shattered and glass showered all over the road. It took me a few moments to realise (as I watch the glass fall hypnotically) that I was close enough to be showered by debris. Or get hit.

And how freaking dangerous a place I was in.


----

It occured to me that in the moment you most need to take action, most people get so paralyzed by the severity of the moment, they get locked up in inertia. You watch all those movies of people getting hit by cars. And sometimes you think how stupid they were, just stand there and get hit when actually, logically, they could have 'siam-ed'. Since it seems as though they saw and knew the car was going to hit, could have at least tried to get out of the way. But in that second, all they could do was stare at death with that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look.

And there I was today, stupidly same as them. Observing and watching the trucks smash right in front of me. Not thinking to move even though it was the safe thing to do. Just this weird calmness and almost numb observance.

I had plenty of time to back away. Actually. It was a split-second, but surely that's enough?

Today I just stood rooted at the spot and thank goodness God didn't let the projectiles get me.


Gee.

Talk about a weird day.



Actually, things feel really weird lately.... You keep getting all this conflicting noise. Random stuff popping up here and there. How come?

Everytime you mix around a social circle that is totally different from your usual group of friends, you discover very interesting things.

Like today, the oldies regaled me about tales from the ‘60s and ‘70s. Shared in a mix of uncouth Hokkien, speedy Chinese and careful English. It was really amusing.

There’s some really interesting stuff that the older generation experienced which we won’t get to.

And if ever I talk about my internship company, it’s hell unique in all the ways you won’t expect.
I could sum it up in three words. “WORLD’S SLACKEST MNC”.

But you know what, you wouldn’t believe the extent. Haha.

I have decided on some little acts of transgression.

Blogging in the office. Surfing the Life Saviour called “the Internet”. Reading the little snippets of updates on my favourite pages. Keeping tabs on the important ones. Stalking peoples’ blogs. Lurking in Facebook.

Trying to sit higher in my chair and using my back to block view of my screen. Staying huddled in my cubicle, typing feather-lightly, hoping not to arouse suspicions. Furrowed eyebrows to look hard at work. The excel sheet expanded to full screen, with this little notepad a small corner at the bottom. Sometimes doing actual work to throw colleagues off into thinking I am a busy-bee intern.

Years of clandestinely surfing glbt information in my closet years has helped me develop “fastest fingers first!”. At the slightest sign of potential discovery, my fingers will fly over to the mouse in a flurry. Click out of this box to my excel smokescreen. Ha! Catch me if you can!

Sometimes, it amuses you to realize the years of honing disguise and pretense to a fine art. To lie so naturally and skillfully, with a poker face, to come up with excuses to hide your true self. Almost like table topics, I’ve been training for toastmasters even before I know it. All because your choice of love wasn’t very… politically correct.

Priceless skills for surviving in the office for another 2 more hours.

But! Being an expert at something not very positive has created some kind of rebellion. It’s almost like 3rd wave feminism. Instead of fighting for the right to be equal to men, now we’re fighting for the right to reclaim our feminity. Instead of trying to be different or to be ‘right’, I’m now reclaiming me.

First sign, was to come out. Sick of pretense!

Second sign, was to be straightforward at the expense of embarrassment. Sick of pretense again!

Although I know that I (and all the other gay people who have ever spent some time in the closet) that I’m a damn good pretender ….

I am sick of pretense!

Lols, the gay boys are both amused and surprised at my lack of subtlety. I could speak in euphemisms if I want (and I do, sometimes). But I rather not ‘beat around the bush’. Just go straight for the cl*t. Hahahaha. Okay, gross joke there.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Joined another cell today, called Emerge. It's FCC's version of an alpha course. Was really glad I decided to join, I heard a lot of different perspectives today. And gained a lot more historical knowledge of the bible.

For the longest time, my relationship with God felt like a blocked nose. Something's stuck, nothing goes in or out. Stalemate.

Today, for the first time, I felt like I could breathe a little.

Finally.


-------------


My fortune cookie says, "The time is right to make new friends!"

Agreed.




Cos you're worth it.

I've got nothing to lose.

Actually I do, but I really desperately want to lose that.

So here goes ... something!

Yay!


*Runs barefoot into uncharted foggy territory, with no compass, no guidebook, no answers and a deceptively calm sky overhead...Rumour has it there's an untouched treasure chest in the horizon. Just gotta run faster, and surer.*

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Today was a day of firsts for me.

Actually, a not-very-nice first at all. The kind of thing you would NEVER EVER wish for to happen to you. The kind which... when it occurs you just go ohhhh FARRRRK! And silently curse your bad luck and disbelief all throughout the ordeal.

I am officially. A blood monster. A bumbling, innocent, robbed-of-her-dignity, pre-menopausal young female kid, with no control over her bodily functions and spewing stuff everywhere. So much for airy-fairy intellect and scholarly words and artistic tastes. Nothing reminds you more of your true, natural self... which is a base, cave-habiting, animal, blood monster. Filthy useless girl.


Blardy hell indeed.


I look in the mirror with pants half-zipped, sadly and morosely declared how much it sucks to be a girl (followed by how much it sucks to be a gay girl).

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

So interesting.

Today my mom discovered a book that was used 20 years ago. It was for 'baby records'. Inside it's mouldy yellow pages, were scribblings about me.

Me when I was tiny and float-y and not yet self-aware.

So cool.

Apparently, I was conceived in November and expected to be delivered on 23rd August 1987. I was early by just a day. Labour took slightly under 4 hours, I was born at 645 am. At some point in time, I was a 6.7cm long foetus. And for the first 4 days of life, I was bathed by an indian nurse at $20 per day cos my mom didn't know how to take care of me yet. $20 ain't cheap 20 years ago. I survived on a diet of cereal, 80% mother's milk and 20% cow's milk. Sometimes I had vitamins. 2 months after birth, I had some high fever and stayed in the hospitals ICU for 1 week. Dad was worried as hell, deja vu again. Thankfully I survived. I was fed about 6-7 times a day. Sometimes by mom, sometimes by our maid Violet. A whole shopping list of 'baby expenses' was written down for my coming. I got stuff like baby bottles and such. You can tell by the amount of detail and attention to nurture in the book, how much I was cared for.

And isn't it awesome then, to be a baby? How blissfully ignorant!

Just an amoeba of flesh. Single-cell, one-track-minded organism bent on feeding and sleeping and nothing else in the world matters...

Monday, May 26, 2008

I'm still your fag.

Biking trip to Pulua Ubin.
Me against the molehill.





Sunday birthday celebration for J T!

=D

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

My gosh, I beat a red light today.

I really, really must make an effort to drive safely. Sometimes, when I drive alone, I tend to overlook or not think 'carefully' about what I'm doing and take stupid risks like that just to save petrol. It's happened a couple of times and I really need to get my act together.

This is bad. Bad bad bad.

Be careful e lsa tay!!


Argh~! Everytime I caution myself, I forget a few weeks later. Don't be stupid!!

Monday, May 19, 2008

Entrapment.



It's all over the web.
All your favourite pages.
Complications and supplication
Question marks and dead ends.
Tangles of webs dot the landscape.
See for yourself the destruction it wroughts.

Float above, ivory tower
Look down at the fools below
Yet unscathed and un-stained.
Free from impurities, lucky you.

They tempt you with hypnotic media
False images and fabrications
Hint of nirvana finally
All yours, everywhere (if you look 'correctly')

The world is in your hands
Liars all, money and hope it takes
Linger between bookshelves
Liars too, with laughable contradictions
The glass is not half-full

Move over, reason.
It has worn itself out.
Subconscious rears it's ugly head
we're down to the final door
Beyond lies the vault enclosing
Big Red Button for silence

Skynet has taken over.
If it's coming from me,
or if it's coming from them
Never look in the eye
Cold and shrugs
A side-ways glance

Set on automatic
Knee-jerk reactions
Almost like a flinch
Yes, I now flinch at this.

Feigned indifference
Your best laid plans
To out-wit the mindfields
No more Saw movies
Or quicksand death

Paranoia's de rigeur
Fall on your knees
Bow in thankfulness
For mindful terror

Just like
Sad stinking reality
I didn't ask.
So let's play it,
"Pass the parcel"
Time for a killing

No sympathy.
No angel sent from nowhere
No listener or Samaritan
I know. What this is.

Your best-laid plans.
Not really yours. Actually.
It belongs to some gnome
With his finger over
Big Red Button.

Black pits make you do reckless things. I could count the numbers of new things and people met just over the weekend. Anything, to suck you out from the wormhole.

One of my biggest fears was riding on a motorcycle. I scream at 30km/h. I scream whenever I sit on J's bike and he picks up really fast. Either way, I'm always frightened to bits. Today I pillion-rode for the first time on a friend's bike on the expressway. You know at 90km per hour, the wind blows your face so hard you have trouble keeping your lips together. Everything feels like it's going to be eroded. Sometimes, you even feel so light that you could be blown away. Blown from the bike. The noise in your ears drown everything else out. Moving air is a cyclone.

And when you look at the grey speckled, fast-moving ground beneath your feet, there's this weird temptation to fling yourself onto the ground. To stop those scary fears of getting involved in a motorcycle accident. Get into one, and get it over and done with. Satisfied now? The fears have materialised. Now you've proven yourself you shouldn't have stepped up in the first place.

When you go round a bend, when you pick up or slow down, you feel the G-forces in your stomache for real. Now I know why people get addicted to biking and of cos, not driving instead. Driving is dead, it's safe, it's in an armoured air-conditioned box of a subdued and quiet car. It's artificial. You don't feel for real the speed you're moving at, or the wonder of this human invention. Driving is taken for granted, riding is something else.

Played a modified form of baseball today at a some Yishun field. Pretty good game structure, I think it's the best beginner's baseball/softball format ever encountered. Perhaps I should pass on the knowledge to the new exco, they could use it to make better clinics.

I saw one of my profs at the busstops today. Thank goodness she didn't see me and I saw her late. Oh, and I bought my game today. It shall provide me with endless hours of mindless mouse-clicking. How awesome.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Today's biking at Ubin was shiok!! We went to the new dirt-bike trail, there's some really interesting routes there. It's catered for those extreme sports mountain bikers so it was kinda scary at some parts. Breaking downhill is a bad baaadd idea. Haha. The sun was hot but the winds were cool, and the mosquito repellant worked pretty well. Plus, we had a welfare IC on hand who brought a haversack full of medical aids and fuel food. Thankfully. Because I wolfed down a 1 minute cereal breakfast in the morning cos I was afraid of being late (I was), and didn't had enough. Ate 4 chocolates on the trail. Wasn't filled and was constantly hungry. Someone told me later that sugar makes you crave more sugar. Hmm.

Then later, we had this really satisfying seafood meal at one of the restaurants. Now I know the best restaurant on Ubin to go to. There's so many but you gotta look for the right one. And usually, it's not the biggest establishment that's the best. There was deep-fried squid, steamed fish, black pepper crab, sambal kang kong, mussels and prawn omelette (the orh lua ran out). These plus thai coconut and green tea completed the meal. Extremely tasty, not oily at all, quite light actually (I wasn't full after the meal), clean-tasting, and I loved every dish. Awesome. Plus it's slightly cheaper than the rest. Man, I'd go back again just to eat here. Anyways, 4 hours of biking really does help in making you feel better about the later calories. After all, we've 'earned our meal'.

Soon, I will be playing BASEBALL. How cool is that? I've never actually played baseball before, although I watch it more than softball. Anyways, the boots and glove and owner are all psyched and ready to go.

---------




I have decided to buy the game. Screw the prospect of computer game drowning again.

Tomorrow, I shall march stalwart to West Mall and buy it. Money has never felt more empowering.

When thought, and reason does naught to resolve problems. The next best plan is running away. Fight or flight, it's in our genes after all.

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Last week, I watched one of the bestest movies I've ever watched. Called, "Water Lilies". It's very American Beauty. And to top it off, it's a les french film. But it goes beyond that, beyond all the sometimes-trashy les or straight movies you watch.

This one had a lot of meaning. Like American Beauty. You have to rewatch everything to dig out all the subtleties. I love films like that. Those quiet, slow-moving films in which the face says what the mouth doesn't. And the eyes tell you a story that you otherwise won't read of hear about. Damn good.

And it doesn't have a happy ending either. Plus I like films which show dysfunction at home, I dunno, it's so very... me, you know? Great facade in public, facade of 'honesty' sometimes. But it's not complete. Things are a lot murkier and deeper. The honesty is just to throw people off into thinking they know everything there is to know. Kinda appealing in that relatableway eh?



---------


Go watch it! If you love arthouse films! Don't neccessarily have to be gay to watch it! Because to place it side by side my all-time favourite movie says a lot...

I decided not to attend IDAHO cos it was so bloody hot. Plus the good friend decided not to go last minute cos of the weather as well, so it was double-sian.

Wells, since I was already headed to the library to pick up a book and the interchange, I decided to linger at the library. Instead of all those fiction stuff, I got myself a bag-full of non-fiction, typically bizarre general information stuff like pop psychology, conspiracy theories and "Do you know?" books. Haha.

Then I decided to pay a visit to the revered Computer Games Shop, in which a moment of weakness will usually result in a $50-60 blow-in-the-wallet. Yes, that's how expensive good games are. But if you count the per-hour entertainment. It's more worthwhile than movies. Good games last 20 hours minimum. So you're paying about a maximum of $3 per hour of gaming. Some games last me for months. That compared to a 2 hour B-grade movie in the cinema for $8 is a hell lot cheaper and more value for money. But of cos, games isn't a social thing. In fact, computer gaming is the most anti-social form of entertainment ever.

I remember in the past, I think... actually, it's not I think, it's ... I do have a gaming addiction. Especially for RPGs. Role-playing games whereby you play this lone or group of heroes traveling around a game world, fighting baddies, collecting goodies and powering up... all in a bid to find out the ending of the game story. It's like being cast as lead actor in your own movie, very cool! I remember there was this game that was so immersive and engaging, whenever I played it, I would play it the whole day. Literally. Wake up at 830am in the morning, rush breakfast, start up the computer. Pause once every 3 hours for toilet breaks. Lunch is a 10 minute affair. Bathing is often forgotten. The only time I properly stop, is when the sky gets really dark and dinner hour approaches. I power down properly for the first time and realise, with immense guilt and loneliness, that I haven't spoken or made contact with a single human being for the past 12 hours. It can be quite scary. Then you go to sleep at night with this immense guilt bearing on your heart.

But the next day, it's the same thing all over again. What I usually do in such cases is panic in a moment of idealism, delete the game (saved games included) to purge the source of addiction, and for a few hours, be proud of what I've accomplished! Out of sight, out of mind! Usually, I regret. Sometimes, I brood over it for awhile but do nothing. In extreme cases, I reinstall everything and start over. And that usually means I have to play about 15% into the game again, which is A LOT if you count the hours I have to replay. Cos I usually call it quits after 2-3 days of mindless possession. 2-3 days worth of lost gaming is A LOT to recoup.

Today, I pondered and mulled at the computer shop. See. There's this old game that they are selling on the cheap at $20. In fact, they've bundled together the 3 separate games, part 1 to 3, in a 3-in-1 package. Quite a steal actually, I know it'll create at least 1 month's worth of intense gaming. Or, considering I'm in internship now, maybe 2 months. But I know what it could potentially lead to. After all, this was an RPG game, my greatest weakness. So. I decided to step out of the shop. And breathe. And continue to walk back to the train station. Keep walking. Don't look back. Drive those scary thoughts of missed opportunity out of your head. Remind self that I am saving $20. Remind self that too much computer time is bad.

Now, I'm at home and I'm plagued by feelings of regret.


ARGGGHHH!!! You can't win!


---------


Now to placate the rebuffed gamer in me, I am gorging on the most delicious char siew I've ever tasted in Singapore. Bought by daddy from some mystery hawker shop, it's absolutely gorgeous. Bright red, slick with sticky sweet 'glue', sesame seeds freckling the meat. Juicy, tender and sometimes crispy for the charred parts. Delicious pieces of heaven. I ate a third of what was bought. Sinful. Ah wells, nothing in which an earlier 4-klick run won't assauge the guilt.

Oh!

Warning signs.

I know how I operate. I tend to clutter things around me. And at the very very last minute when things go beyond what I can handle, then maybe I'll wave a feeble flag for assistance. I don't know why. Maybe it's the idea that you can solve things neatly if you persist. My mom always chastised me for my attitude, for thinking that I can 'handle it by myself'. But things have an annoying habit of unravelling and unravelling into more and more mess. And when that happens, it's usually too late.

Maybe it's times when I was a kid. Way back in primary school. I can still remember. When one statement uttered by your dearest sister made you believe that you and you alone, is your only source of refuge. Everything else external is imperfect, unsafe, they could pull the carpet under your feet any moment. Case in point, junior college. Jo once said that I appear as though I don't need anyone. JC said no one would dare try anything funny with me cos they know that I can take care of myself.

Is it not a good thing to be indepedent and self-sufficient? To know that if all else fails, there is always yourself to turn to. I don't know, in the gritty process, some really bitter medicine had to be swallowed. There's a huge resonance to the phrase, "tough luck". Wearing an armour is incredibly tiring. But licking your wounds is worse. The lesser of two evils maybe?

But somedays, you just wish...

"When you open up your mouth to speak
Could you be a little weak"




I don't like the me now. Not one bit.

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Hahahaha I wanna watch the real vagina monologues!!

Happy things to report!

1. I've got my reservation for that novel I wanted to read!
2. Sunday biking at Ubin is coming up!
3. Next Thursday meetup with the N J people is coming soon!
4. I'm going to get my booker prize soon!
5. Cell on Tuesday is coming soon! And I'm leading on the topic of sin. Cool.


The weekend is ARRIVING!!!

When you start work, your life becomes a sinosuidal curve with the weekends being the peak and mondays being the trough.

I've already made plans for this December. Either I'm going Europe with Y ing and K, or I'm going to stay in Singapore and blow my meagre internship salary on cooking classes. Yes, it's time to do selfish "me" things.

---------

I once said I was a hoarder of experience. Because I think each and every experience has its intrinsic value, that justifies one going through it. Sometimes, I will go out of my way to create opportunities for weird and spontaneous experience. If a crazy idea strikes me, and if I've never done it before, I'll do it in an instant if it's interesting enough. Like that time when I was board while on the plane back to Singapore. I did something most people would think is crazy. Or maybe not. Depends on who I'm asking, heh.


Even negative experiences can be good. Just today, it was obvious my firm is totally not prepared for having me onboard yet, since the project only starts next Monday proper. So I spent the whole day doing no work, but reading this tome of a phonebook on pricing strategy. It marries together the concepts from management accounting, finance, marketing and biz process. Sometimes I was bored and dozed off while reading. Sometimes I was bolt right up cos the articles go deeper than what we learn in school and was really interesting. I love it when the authors argue with logic. Logic is...comforting to me. If I can understand something, if it makes sense, then it affirms my connection to it. Affirms my existence. If I can't understand something, if I'm totally lost... the further I will go from it, and the harder it is for me to see its relevance in my life. I try to avoid the things I don't understand, especially the kind you've tried your bestest at understanding. (And I know that my bestest is no mediocre feat)


So from my perspective, today wasn't such a waste of time, I seemed to have done a pricing strat 101, which is a marketing tool by the way. So out of doing nothing productive, I learnt something new.

These are instances when supposedly negative experiences have their meaning. And similar to last time, when I had negative experiences in which I emerged from with lessons learnt, they added value to my life. But now I retract... not all negative experiences have value. Those which do, are justified because the hidden value they add, outweighs the surface suffering that you go through for it. And hence, you emerge a better person. Like an iron put through the grind becomes a knife. Sharper. Some others... don't seem to have any discernible 'good' emerging. Instead, you find yourself uglier and uglier. And perhaps, you might've been better off without it.

When skin has been subject to a lot of rough work, e.g. rowing or batting or farming, it forms a hard outer layer for protection. If this is a good thing, then maybe. But all the happy-clappy living in la-la land folks will tell you the opposite.

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

I start my internship tomorrow. Most probably doing market price research or price/order forecasting. It's no longer the energy company, cos the work scope was drastically changed to something I totally didn't expect. Didn't make sense for me to take on something I had zero interest in. The good thing, is that my workplace is farrr away from the CBD. That means no rush-hour-mrt-hell for me! Yayness!

If there's one thing that pisses me off fastest than anything else... is the atrocious conditions during morning rush hour.

------

Today I had to make a difficult decision between the two internships. And later, once that was settled.. another difficult decision between going for cell (?) or going to the Oscar Wilde fundraiser (?). I really did wanted to go for both. But I figured that time spent bonding with the brothers would be more worthwhile, then going for the fundraiser for 'ulterior' reasons haha. Am glad that I went to cell today. There's nothing more comforting than a good laugh and sharing at weekly cell to purge those demons. You know what I really love about friendships? Is that sometimes, we come to a point of closeness during our meet-ups, that we ditch small talk and discuss the things that really matter. The raw issues in our life. What makes us sad, what makes us happy. But through the many meet-ups I've had with friends, sometimes, we're so caught up filling each other with the superficial details of our lives. The mechanics of living. That we forgot (or have no time) to talk about the heart. But what makes friends such prosaic elements of our lives... is when we talk about the things that matter.

And this is what I love about levis. Everytime we come together, we rarely waste time with superficial chit-chat. And even when we do we fill in each other about what goes on in our daily lives, we don't talk about the mechanical aspects, we talk about the emotional aspects of the things happening. It seems like we don't see each other often, certainly not everyday, but every once a week.. we come together, and it feels like old times again. And its funny, how I can tell these guys about the things I find really hard to express in front of 'more closer' friends. Maybe it's the knowledge that they would understand. Maybe it's the fact that I know they won't give me politically-correct answers, but answers from their own experiences. Maybe it's because I feel so loved and special sometimes, being the only girl in a group of guys. Maybe it's more than these. I don't know. But it certainly warms your heart on a cold night. And shit can come and go in your life, but the guys are a constant. Tuesday nights are a constant. Like an oasis to seek refuge in, whilst wandering the desert of life.

I've blogged about this many times. About how much cell and the guys mean to me. It must be wearisome to keep reading the same thing. But in troubled times like this, they never fail to anchor me again. Or lift me up by turning tragedy into comedy. And give me a reason to smile for tomorrow. And even if nobody knows, at least the boys do.

Heheh, joke of the night today:

Perfect lesbian + Perfect Gay = Galsa. G a r y + e l s a ... get it? Haha.

Monday, May 12, 2008

The more I try to walk away,
The more I want to look back,
The more I don't want to say goodbye


Cos you know you're going to lose something.
For real.


You know that sweetie you fucked up before.

Lessons from a previous time. We don't talk about one thing in our lives. Best not to be discussed. But then again, there's a lot of things we don't talk about anymore. And we're far away from each other. So far away sometimes. And the saddest thing about that, sometimes, I don't really care.

Anymore.




It's dead to me now.


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And you look at the timeline of your life, and the rows of people on the black line. The ones who had so much potential, but now have no more significance. The ones you had to write off. And no, you didn't want it to be this way. Never wanted it to be this way. Always strived for perfection and idealism. Everything can be the same again, you tell yourself. Yeah right. Look, it's all there now. Mocking you and your hopes.


Lovers come and go, but friends stay forever.


If you could make yourself, if you could choose to keep, if you could choose not to feel, choose not to love. There won't be lovers, but at least we'll make sure we'll have friends forever.


Wouldn't that be awesome instead? Friends forever.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Difference.

A smart-ass man believes that doing the right thing will be good.

A wise man knows that doing the right thing will be good... for nothing.


It's real function is to make us feel better about ourselves only. But your goals are still out of reach.

We discussed some interesting concepts last night.

See, there's this situation: Y used to have a secret thing for C back in the days of blue school uniform. Fast forward a couple of years later, Y suddenly discovers that C actually did like Y. And now, more than ever. C is aggresively trying to chase. And Y who is no longer interested, is mildly annoyed. No amount of flogging is going to revive a horse that has died in the depths of Y's heart. Talk about untimely love.

And here's this thing: C, keeps asking Y, 'caring' questions. Questions about how Y should take care of herself, rest more, eat well, blah blah, etc. bullshit to showcase her concern for Y.

This is what we all agree on, me and Y, that we don't believe in the 'use of care' in pursuing people. We've heard a million stories about how people fall for one another cos the pursuer was 'very caring'. Personally, I think that's pretty false.

Firstly, there's a famous saying that men change after marriage. They are no longer as 'caring', they do not shower their lovers with gifts and make romantic efforts anymore. Why? Cos they know they already scored, they've got the bear in the bear trap already. Why try so hard? So those who are 'caring' in the midst of chasing people, are only spurred to be caring then. They aren't genuinely 'caring' people. And this will finally show when the relationship has been achieved. Unless of cos, one can prove otherwise that the pursuer does 'caring things' to his/her friends on a regular basis, then can that person said to be truly caring. Otherwise, it is just nothing but a fishing tactic to hook potential partners.

Here's a shining example of false care. Care exhibited for the sake of appearing to be a 'nice caring person', but not reflective of true care. The ubiquitious sms goodnight. You know, lots of people like to send this sms, "message me when you get home safely kay!" when two people hang out late and part ways later. The receiver is supposed to feel cared for, that someone is looking out for them. The sender expects a reply before the night ends right? Only then would a truly caring sender be satisfied that the other is safe. But here's the funny part. Sometimes, the receiver forgets to reply. And the sender receives nothing the whole night! In my opinion, a truly caring sender will make the effort to call the receiver and determine their safety. But most of the time, if we don't reply! The care ends there! For all you know, the receiver could be lying naked and whimpering in an alley after being raped. So much for a caring message. We don't really care about the receiver do we? We just care they have a good opinion of us. How selfish. Care for the sake of posturing.

I admit, I've been guilty of this. I will not do it again. Also, I have friends who send such smses, and you can tell who's genuine and who's not. And when I'm the recipient of obviously fake care such as this, I can't help but laugh sometimes. It's so easy to see through to the other's intentions. So very easy. It's always those who are trying to get close to you, that put on false impressions.

Therefore, the bottomline is... we 'care' for ourselves only. We 'care' only when it benefits us. We care, so that the other person will respond to our moves. Once they have fallen for us, we don't have to try so hard to 'care' cos they are hooked already. It's a trap people. A trap. I believe that care can only be developed after one has cemented a strong relationship with another, be it platonic or otherwise. Then it genuinely comes from the heart, and this is the kind of care that will not abate even when the relationship has matured. Dating care, is just a tactic that's all. At worse, I think it's hypocritical. One can be 'caring' to their prey, and callous to others not in their line of sight. I've seen that all too often. Too painfully often.

Secondly, care is easy. Care is so very easy to show, fake and portray. I can pretend to be a caring person so that you'll have a good impression of me. It's not very hard, all it takes is a few smses, calls, nice smooth words. You know, they say we fall in love with someone cos that person is 'special'. Tell me, how does 'care' make someone 'special'? If everyone can easily be a caring person or develop care for each other, how does that make us unique? So if I were to act caring (emphasis on 'act' here), I could score anyone I want since it would make me 'special'?? Haha, what a joke really...

You know what truly makes us special? The things we cannot fake. Personality, character, principles, humour, maybe to some extent, our looks. These are things we cannot fake. And these are things which are genuine, and reveals itself without much or any effort at all. These are things which appear.. naturally. With the exception of people with the mother theresa halo over their heads, the genuinely caring people who look out for everyone.... caring.. is not a personality adjective. Just as how, adventurous, merry or idealistic might be facets of our personality, Caring doesn't fall into that category. [But of cos, I could argue against myself here that even personality and how 'special' we are, doesn't make any difference whether people fall for us or not. But there's another arguement for another time]

Thirdly, despite the dubious nature of care. Why do people employ it? Why does it work? Because you know what? We're all suckers for attention. Just as how women fall for men who pamper them with gifts, we don't fall for the men per se, we fall for their money and what it buys us. When we fall for someone caring, we don't truly fall for them, we fall for the attention we're receiving. A wise friend once told me not to shower my targets with gifts, because they will grow used to it and they will start loving the gifts not you. It's like programming you know. Everytime the dog does something right, you feed it. The dog's real desire is the food. So if you feed care to people, you prgramme them to get used to it. And their real desire is your care... not you, or the love you have to offer. So if you really want to be 'honest' I suppose, in a relationship. Just be yourself, don't be anything else 'extra'. Don't care for the sake of caring. It would be deception.

But then again, morally righteous, idealistic actions get us nowhere in this world. And all too often, it seems like the more utterly devious you are in relationships, you'll get your babe! Haha.

And for the fake carers out there, you ain't fooling me. Ha! For one, I'm a person who dislikes pretense and hypocrisy.


-------------

I think as the years go by, me and Y don't believe in many things anymore. Wells, that's to be expected if history hands you a cold platter of hard lessons eh?

Yesterday night was cool.

One of the best things in life... is to have a friend whom you can call up anytime to hang out... like now. Immediately. In half an hour, me and yin g were in the car headed to HV. We went to Ta ngo for some drinks and people-watching. Talked about a lot of things. Saw a lot of people. Saw who we were talking about. How coincidental is that? Last night was a good night. A happy night. Carthatic.

Till the wee hours of one in the morning.


Like she says...."We bitch towards a better tomorrow"


=)

Happy Days....




On the steps of our beloved amphitheatre, with memories that would last a lifetime.



I love this picture :)



Forbidden Roof. My idea. Hee.




Friends forever! Much love and hugs around.... =D



More on the facebook!

We went to visit our old schools of SC and NJ (for me and ros and to let gayle crash for the first time).

Back in SC, we went to all the scenic areas in school. Marvelled at the refurbished and swanky library, ooh-ed at the cute little primary school girls with over-sized pink bags, ooh-ed (for me) haha, at the fit-looking new P E teachers. We talked to the age old stallholders who are still there. Met our ex-teachers (some of whom couldn't recognise us and didn't believe we were old alumni... very old alumni... in our uniform disguise). The school has.. changed so much. There's so many new areas now, so many brightly coloured, decorated and refurnished places. So many things we didn't have in the past. But I still like what we had last time. It was simpler, old-fashioned.. and nostalgic. It must have been weird, for S C girls walking around school to see a trio of their peers, disappear into the toilets in the usual SC uniform, and emerge later in NJ clothes!

Down bukit timah we went. I pretended to be one of the J2s of in JC who had just passed their driving test (and my P plate comes in handy hee), so as to get past security. We walked around the school as students were still having their lessons, bumped into some shocked ex-teachers, took lots of photos and climbed into clandestine areas. Places even ros didn't know about. Then we sat by the windy canteen and made full use of the cheap cheap drinks in school.


I miss the simple times. Times when school and your friends in school was all that mattered.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Difference.

An optimist. Shoves all his troubles and the ghouls under his bed. Out of sight, out of mind. He can galavant about, free as a spirit. Ignorance is bliss.

A pessimist. Shoves all his troubles and the ghouls under his bed. But he knows... that no amount of shoving, will ever erase the fact that it is there.


It is always there.

I slipped away last night
Took me away from sight and the place I know.
All crushed upon my skin
This mess I put you in and the punch i threw.
It was a strange reaction
for someone like you to remain on side
And in a chain reaction
I was down and calling for a place to hide.

I saw a broken arm
Machines will all break down in the way I know.
Mended and all made clean
I saw up on the screen all the stones I throw.

It was a strange reaction
for someone like you to remain so sure
And in a chain reaction
I dissolve and break and then away I crawl.


--- Coldplay, "Your love means everything"




You know. There is a famous saying.... "It is darkest before everything goes pitch black."


There is no light and there is no tomorrow. There is only now, and the walls, and my head. Inertia.




I have no mouth to scream. But I'm dying to.

This is a weird place to be in. I've never .. had the misfortune to find out before.




Everything changes nothing.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Today was a wonderful day.

We had a whole itenary planned out for ms gayle and her belated 21st birthday. Early in the morning we got her a massive melon-sized pau as a cake. Sang her happy birthday at her doorsteps as the wind threatened to blow all three candles out and scatter wax all over pau skin.

Then we surprised her with our SCGS uniforms. Whipped them out and promptly announced we were going to crash our old school. Yeah, today's theme was "Old Skewl". But since they have a security checkpoint now at the school's maingate. I had to wear normal casual clothes first. Then at the gantry, I pretended I was driving my 'cousins' of ros and gayle decked out in sc uniform in the passenger seats... to school. The other two kept silent and tried to grin as convincingly as possible.







*to be continued when Ros finally uploads our hundred+ pictures*...

Thursday, May 08, 2008

I shall proceed to do my second crazy thing within a month.

There. I've done it.



Now to await the impending armaggedon.

Got back results today. GPA is up again! Better than last sem's atrocious results.

Oh wells.



Success is bittersweet when you place it right next to your failings.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

I really hope I get my internship. Was one of three shortlisted from six applicants. The interview went very well. They tried to give me one of those hypothetical trick questions, but it plays right into the cards of a Toastmaster. So I think the other applicants might have trouble with it, but thankfully, I've faced harder topics. I even 'short-sold' myself according to the interviewer, I didn't expect that they would pay more. Possibly much more, maybe over $1k. (I quoted them 800). Plus if I get into my department of choice, I would get to travel around the region. Sometimes on short notice such as one day advance notice only. Quite exciting eh? Places like Vietnam, Jarkarta, KL etc. And since I really sold myself on the Toastmaster thingy, I might possibly get to meet clients in all those tea reception thingies. Moreover the boss seems like a very nice person, and the office overlooks Sentosa. I can see the merlion!! I also have a straight bus to work and back (although it takes more than an hour), at least I can SIT DOWN, instead of bearing MRT hell. Lastly, I'm only a stone's throw away from cool hangout places after work. Have yet to check out that Keppel Island winebar. And parking is $4 for an entire day at one area!!!! Omg, am I tempted to drive to work if I get work.

But I'll be in the business of killing the earth. And I will see things like bribery, and the futility of idealism when profits come into play.



And now I see all my ethics lessons flooding back to me. How quickly, really, we abandon them.


Still. I hope to get the job.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Today I was chatting with Em as usual. On our very-usual topic of discussion.

We were going on and on about the merits of the human dimensions. Specifically female. And what's our type, what's not. What we prefer. And since I've just disembarked from the Japan bandwagon, the subject was japanese girls. Later, to my horror, this guy that was walking behind us walked slightly further in front and turned his head a full 90degrees to stare at me and Em with a disgusted, affronted look.

I was, underneath, offended. Perhaps he overheard our conversation. Our school-boy conversations about the female form and the whimsical observation that perhaps we're boys trapped in girls' bodies. Regarding that: I kind of disagree. I don't feel like a boy, except for the liking girls part. I don't wanna look like a man, act like a man, or talk like a man with some deep baritone. I do not want some sexless, male-looking haircut. I do not want a flat male chest. Hell no, I prize my paus! Neither do I want a "stick" below. I'm more than satisfied with having puah-see 26 days out of 30 days in a week. (No prizes for guessing what happens to the 4 days left out). I thought perhaps we're not so much boys trapped in girls' bodies. Maybe more like lechers trapped in girls' bodies. Or rather pervs. Haha.

But then again, is it something to be ashamed of? Or given a degratory label like pervert, if you still harbour adoloscent thoughts and reflections. What's wrong! There's nothing wrong with it. There's nothing wrong with appreciating the female body. Or the male body for that matter. There's nothing wrong with looking at something beautiful and expressing your admiration for it. I would think at least we wear our hearts on our sleeves and speak honest thoughts aloud. Rather than give coy, political-correct responses about how one is above physical attraction or is not regularly attracted to beautiful others. Maybe, maybe, there are people out there who are genuinely not such animals as we are. But I bet strongly that most people don't talk about their physical attractions, cos it would seem... exactly like what we put down as... lecherous. Or perverted. As if to have such desires were shameful. And to talk about them, and express what you really feel, is a social faux pas. Yeah, we all gotta 'play it cool'. Pretend it doesn't affect us. Hah!

Sometimes I wonder if that completes the sum of me that people perceive. That there is nothing beyond frivolity and school-boy desires in me. Should I care really? For this shallow depiction. Should I bother to correct it if it exists? Maybe not. Why should I? If one thinks of me this way. And sees not the potential underneath. After all, most people don't see what we're really made of isn't it. Even when I talk to people, in public, through words or verbatim. All they see is this... layer.


But you don't really know what I'm made of. Do you?


What lies beneath... can only be found in some other corner. Not the immediate here.

Some things in this world, were never meant to belong.
And one must count his coins, tinkle and jingle in his palm
Look skywards in fervent supplication, pawing this thing
called Hope. Then downward his eyes, and up goes clasped hands
Gripped tightly against reality, cold metallic reality of the coins
Then in one defining triumph, fling these discs, these crutches
Into the great big blue. Letting go of ones held so dear. So close to life itself.

Because some things in this world, were never meant to belong.

Watch the stars as they fall, slow and false,
Through the soup of time,
See them spin and flaunt every facade
Every blinding and jarring surface
And recall those instances past, of handling coins
Pretense and imagined joy, masking dead smells
Let them dip and cascade into waters
Drowned in silence and eternal solitude
Left for rot and erasure.

One final look, about turn and walk away.
With steadfast haste and weightlessness
Towards a new road and eyes fixed ahead
Never looking back.



Redeemed.

Today Nick stood at the pulpit and said something so true.

"God will make everything beautiful. In His time, and His time only."





-----------


I really love this song by coldplay

"Oh, did you want me to change?
Well I'll change for good"

---- "Shiver" by Coldplay

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Very cool greek painting of lesbians. Found when i was wiki-surfing.

Do NOT click if you don't want virginal eyes to be sullied!

Friday, May 02, 2008

If I don't know, I can't do anything about it.

Do you understand? The only way to move forward, is if I know.

If I could, I wanna go mountain climbing again.

I still remember the two places I went ... and the awesome awesome experiences I had. First in Malaysia for OBM, 3 days canoeing and 3 days mountain-climbing. Then in Nepal to climb Poon Hill. And what it was like to look down from atop the summit, high above the clouds, and feel the wind in your face and see the sun rise in all its glory.

But mountain-climbing is kind of like jogging. Heck, jogging's a metaphor for it. You hate the process while at it. You can't stand the exertion, that one more step you need to take, the screaming in your legs telling you to stop. But at the end of it all, the euphoria was worth it. And you don't regret. And you keep going at it again, even though you know you hate the process, but you know it's all worth it. Frankly, I can't stand trekking sometimes. Short legs don't help when you've got long distances to cover. Worse still if you have a heavy pack to lug around.

In malaysia, it was so damn tiring carrying the damn bag. I thought it was worse than the canoeing, although for everyone else, the canoeing was the worst part. Actually, I quite liked the canoeing. But the trekking was really killer, and the pace was insane. Short legs do not help when you're trying to brisk-walk.

In nepal, I was climbing with a damn flu. After awhile, I was delirious from discomfort and sickness, my only goal was to reach the top and finally rest. I just kept going, kept walking, cos I know if I stop I will feel worse. And the harder the path, the steeper the rocks, the more I cannot give up. Running on adrenaline. Nothing else, except for some water and rabbit food (cos I can't eat anything else with the sore throat).

Oddly, it seems like everytime I summit, I need to shit. I dunno why. Gravitational pull? Haha. In Malaysia, I dug myself a pit behind a bush and tried very hard to. False alarm apparently. In Nepal, not so false alarm. I ran up the last 3000 steps, stayed up for half an hour in flu-addled delirium. Took some photos, drank some water. Was the first to run down with tissue roll trailing in my hands. Literally, I was jumping from rock to rock (screw the knees, the ass was more important)... until I finally reached the inn and the toilet and bombed. When the 'feeling' came on... I was like..."omg, deja vu." And then, "fark... farrrk lah!! why? WHY?".

Even though both times, the entire process was quite... painful in some ways. I'd do it again. Masochistic yeah. But there's something special about pushing yourself and putting your body through exertion. Feel your limits. There's nothing else that makes you feel more alive, when you're so aware of your physical self.

One day, I'm going back to climb Nepal's annarpuna range.

Or maybe go south america. Somewhere, wherever. To walk the earth.


After the commercialised and tourist-y trips to HK and Japan, you want something that feels real again.

The Japanese are an interesting lot of people.

Beyond the impeccable and flawless and almost robotic service. They bow a lot. And they also go "Hai!" a lot. Everytime the tour bus leaves a hotel we just vacated, the doorman and receptionists will come out to the entrance and start waving at us until we disappear from view.

But I'm too lazy to blog about the awesome stuff I saw. Ask me ask me!

You know what's the best thing about Japanese TV?

There is baseball almost everyday. Japanese league! So cool! You can't see it in singapore.

Best of all, I turned on the TV on the first day of holiday.... and whoa.

I saw the most to-die-for japanese actress. Omg she is exquisite. Too bad I don't know japanese so I have no name no words to search for. Only a face to remember.

But oh what a face it is.... I can't find it online!!


RAHHHHHHHHHH!!


*nose bleeds*