A place to sulk. . .

2011-10-07T22:06:00.003+08:00

I am so moving out when I can.

Realised I'm not an easy person to live with. Probably. Then again, is it my parents that are not easy people to live with? Hmm...

I'd take my sister with me. Hells for sure. At least she's a little bit saner, more practical, more sensible. Someone who actually responds to logic. Because in a house, to live alone in a house, is a very silent and quiet affair. It's like my night-times, every single hour I'm in the house. Where its still, and the parlour of the moon all surrounded by black, reminds you of yourself.

There isn't much control in my life. I don't feel that I have a lot of control. Certainly not at home, not in the way we run things. The only control I have, is what I can do about it. And some days I've chosen to just stay out of house affairs altogether. Cos anyway I don't have a voice in 'my' house. At work, there is some control. But mostly I'm going with the flow, with the tides and wishes of others, and the fickle choices of my heart. There are days I exert some control, by refusing. Refusing myself mostly.

In The Personal Life, of which there is like, almost, nada... there is nothing to control. Nothing's happening. Not a mark on the calendar, or a jot on the agenda. Just breathing through the pictures in my head, egged on by emotive music, pretending and wishing I had another reality. I live vicariously through this imagination, to avoid the empty fog of the present. But who's kidding, it's still there. Reminded thoroughly when I awake from this jelly of clouds to find myself, within the grey walls with my thoughts for company.

To be honest, I think I've arrived at the market bottom. This is the market bottom for me. It can't get any worse from here onwards. It can't get worse cos there's no more expectation of 'better'. No such ideal as hope, and wish and future possibilities. I've given up that notion. What was once a bleary haze is now pitch black. And strangely, how oddly calming it feels. How methodically and naturally I came to that conclusion. No panic, just reflexive surrender.

I can't see a future in that. And I would be incredibly stunned, if there's a miracle otherwise. But other than that, I could calmly see nothing ahead. So I let myself steep in the filmstrip, in the heady lull of suggestive music, to tell my head otherwise... for a few minutes or hours each day. I could pretend I was somebody else.

It is still a concept to me. For others, a reality. But I can look upon it with academic interest and theoretical conjecture, and plaster my own grand conclusions and clever hypothesis, and maybe it'll be as good as reality itself. Like watching movies.

----

Do you know that when an artery has undergone massive trauma, such as severance, it will shrink and retract upon itself.

Some days I feel like I'm shrinking back inside myself. One cares a lot less about emotional things, or about stressful, divisive situations. One learns to roll with the emotional punches and side-step the triggers. One also trains to let go quickly, to drop at once ideas and notions too dangerous. One surrenders quickly and accepts fate instead of trying to fight it. One stops striving in belief, one forgets about self.

I may have an idea where my career is moving. But I have no idea where this life is taking me. I could forecast the future of dollars and cents, manage and dictate that A will lead to B and promise to deliver results. But I can't predict this life on a chart, on the possible scenarios and sensitivity analyses. Not with all the tools at my disposal, not even if I learn the difficult software. And so, I've given up assuming that I will meet my yields. My 'investment expectations'. I've given up thinking that I will meet them at all. Because life promises me nothing. Owes me nothing.

And you have seen, how those who have laid all their equity upon hope, upon chance. They are still waiting for their return, if it'll ever come. And you have seen, how for some, there is no return and no gain. They are as poor as they were when they begun. Maybe poorer of faith. Probably.

My life could be like this. Could be ... whatever. I don't expect that it will turn out like my dreams or my illusions. I've learnt not to expect or to feel entitled. Because its just the way it is.

It is difficult to work and think in an analytical, logical environment where everything must equate and where principles are founded upon egalitarian ideals. And then to come back to your own life and swallow the fact that none of that applies. None of your schooled, learned, training, prepares you that life is not an equation.

It's just rubbish. Sometimes.

2011-09-09T23:54:00.006+08:00

Think I've sunked lower into an existential funk.

Maybe because when things got dreary, finally came to that flatline of the heart rate. Just when you think the road couldn't get more grey, more cemented. Life conjures an open drain in front of you.

I don't know what could be worse.

Seems like the facts of the case point to history revisited. Cautioned myself a long time ago, eons ago, about such dangers. Made that error once, paid dearly, painfully for it. Felt like a concussion of the heart and no hope at all, for reprieve.

I guess I did a pretty good job at defense. Had all my stone walls and all my shields and arms-length body language. All the closed-in-ness. I put up all these roadblocks but I still can't stop this creeping into territory. Maybe its inevitable after all. Only a matter of time, a matter of enough lunches, enough conversations. It doesn't take alot to get enthralled by kindness.

Maybe I shouldn't have gone on that trip. No, no who am I kidding. I would've, should've. It was worth it. Worth maybe, even this souvenier of regret. This unwanted, bastard child of circumstance. Came back with a new standard of low. This hollow, vaccum that screamed for the past. For an illusion of the future, fully knowing that all fantasy is pure conjecture. I seem to have chosen the worse possible option. No, wait not me. My heart seems to have chosen the worst possible option.

Of them all - you would be the worst. Probably the farthest.

I wish to knife it at the jugular. Conservative analysis screams at me to stay away. To run, to hide, to be professional. To pour my minutes into the numbers and face eye-locked with the screen. To bury myself in thoughts of career and progression, and material wealth to come. To recall my purpose here, and the big dreams I had when I first began.

And it is foolish to throw it all way. Foolish to even contemplate a risk, and forget it, impossible was never more real than now.

To sour things further, I am now 24. In an existential funk. With life outside of work leading down a road that has an open drain. Somehow I'm walking towards a cut. The road is inclined, slipping, down towards the slide.

There are days I wish I could tell you how ... awesome you are. And it pricks to find a kindred spirit, one whose dreams and ideals fly off the norms like the edge-walkers, the mavericks. Then to discover that you had a bigger love for giving than me. Put this ego to shame and this heart to warmth. To lie awake at odd hours of the night and wish eternity to our tennis games. To giggle and smile inwardly, to stoke the laughter and self-depreciation, to wish the world and ponder the universe. To peel off some of this hard outer shell and risk letting you know me. I've done all these. But this is where the road ends, it stops at the cliff where the sunset is far off and forever out of reach. You could only stare at its glory and then the day leaves you, alone in the cold of the night. Like those sunsets, everytime you leave I am left melancholic and chilled.

Some days, I feel like putting a wider step through the door, inch it forwards, come what may, see how it goes. Throw chance to the winds. But logic tells you that this is one of those things in life - where you seal behind vaults. I've hidden too many things recently. Sometimes I can't even find them anymore, inside.

And so lately, I've been fighting this kindness of yours. It will harm me eventually. In ways you wouldn't know. Shouldn't know because I know you. I know it's an epilogue in our story that I would never want to read. So I won't allow it to happen. No I won't chance it.

I wish you wouldn't tell me that you want to introduce me to someone else - when it's you I want.

2011-06-26T22:54:00.002+08:00

In a strange alternate universe, I heard your name today. Feels surreal. Like a moth-eaten, dusty, tome you find at the back of your cupboard while spring cleaning one day. And the memories wash over you like a flood. Almost sparkly, crisp, shocking to numbed senses.

Am I hearing correctly. Did they just mention you. So, so long ago. I've forgotten what it's like trying to forget. It's covered in pits so deep, sealed with earth of ages gone. Fossilised, frozen, does not want to be disturbed. Content to stay unfinished always. That's how some endings go, anyways. They end with commas while your melancholy fills the blank pages.

A friend once said, there is no pressing need. That people meet and part like clouds. But if your paths cross one day, then they cross. If not, there is no pressing need.

Today the pastor said that he hates helplessness, because there was a time in his life in which he felt incredibly helpless. And now the thing he once was, is the thing he hates the most in others.

Probably, there is still some unfinished work I have to do. Some days, I do not know how to drive it to its conclusion. My book lays half-done. The pages scribbled with pencil, then left to dust when the thinking got tougher. The demands got painful. You search for ways to kill your demons. But even the book says the demons will always, always be there. And you have to accept that.

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

If these pages chart the times of regret, want, nostalgia... pity even. Then I suppose the infrequency of my writing marks healthfulness and more or less,... happiness?

2011-06-25T00:39:00.003+08:00

The weekdays are beginning to blur together. I track them by my nightly activities, by my daytime meetings. The weekends fly by like a swallow. Gone in a whirl. The months go by. I count them by the paycheques, and the poetry slams. People want so much from this limited time. Asked to commit to many things, asked to consider many things.

I shun responsibility now, baulk at the prospect of commitment. Whoop secretly when I find that I have nothing to do. Or spare time to kill. Life drags on now. Drags my unwilling legs of inertia along. It doesn't wait for anyone. Not even me. I will be 24 soon. And I don't look forward to that. At all.

Some days I feel lost. My legs are mechanically moving, but it isn't thinking. My mouth says all the right words, my brain conjures all the right sums. My heart doesn't know what to feel. What to make of life. I am just doing....

I wish someone would toss me a flyball, high across the field, up, up, up in the air. And I will run my lungs out to save it. As fast as my churning legs would take me, without caring about what's in front of me, just what's in the air. My singular goal. Nothing like that to make me feel free.

2011-05-22T18:29:00.001+08:00

I thought I found my living-reincarnate the other day. You really remind me of myself.

2011-05-14T10:07:00.003+08:00

Work has a numbing effect on a person. Strangely, its presence is welcomed. Some days you're so addled with numbers and procedures and next-steps and hows, whys, what-nows. So much processing going on, and it's hard not to take work to bed with you. To stop the hamster in your imaginary office wheel up there from running. Then you come to the weekend and you're reminded, reminded that you still have a life. But truth be told it's never really that far from your mind, that life. During brief moments of slacking, you ponder the schedule for the weekend, so ... purposeful, so carefully crafted, everything fitted efficiently into their slots. Some blank spaces in between for housework... and whatever there is to do at home.

I haven't had time to really think for awhile. Maybe it's good. Self-thought is usually predatory, critical. It's good there isn't time lately to debase yourself.

And then there's the distraction of new TV shows. Thank god for those TV shows. How nice, sometimes, to live vicariously through other people. Through the movies, the shows, the comic books. So nice to run away from the reality of my four walls, this armchair existence.

There are many exciting projects, many meaningful projects, many opportunities at work. Many good things, really. I hate that I still can't divorce myself from ideal notions. Cannot, enjoy the good challenges to come. There are many things that come easily to you. Some not so easily, but still within grasp, if I try hard enough. And yes I know those things I will get some day. Because your whole life history has told you that things of effort, are not outside your abilities. Because God has always blessed you as well, with people who position you for these things. And I know I will get there.

It is the randomness, that luck or fate factors or whatever, helpless crap that always dictates part of me... it is these things I detest. Wish I could shake off those chains..

2011-04-22T07:52:00.002+08:00

Life doesn't promise you anything.

Life doesn't promise that you won't fall into the MRT tracks at age 14 and have your legs severed. How could we ever, ever make such fallacious assumptions in words and thoughts like "will", "surely", "definitely". These words have no meaning in reality, they do not exist in the world because the laws and rules of this universe was never built on absolutes, on unchangebles. These words are just salves we use on our emotional wounds, to tell ourselves that everything can be alright.

The greatest lie in the world is the promise of something. No one, owes us these promises, not least the world. Most often, people willingly take the blue pill and never consider trying the red, even though it's always at the back of our minds. Always a reminder that there is more randomness and chaos rather than order and justified, morally satisfying conclusions. The more we expect and believe of this world, the more we'll be disappointed.

I'm done with gurantees. I hate hearing gurantees about life. Stop telling me and presuming how my future will turn out because that is NOT how the world works. Words are for expression, for release. They don't form the concrete of my reality.

Yes, positivity still drives. If you want something, think it hard enough, the universe may bend itself in ways that help to form that reality. You will act in small unconscious ways towards your purpose, because of thought. But at the end of the day, there is still no gurantee. No matter how close you narrow the odds. There never is, even if its 99.99999% possible. Life gurantees and promises you nothing.

So don't for a moment, believe that you're ever entitled to something and then fall disappointed because you didn't win in the lottery of randomness.

If something good happens in life, it is a miracle. And nothing less. One could stand and look out patiently, expectantly for a miracle. But then you'll wait a long time and most probably, in futility.

Fuck miracles. Expect nothing.

2011-04-02T22:48:00.003+08:00

Our household no longer has a maid. The maid has split into three. Me, mom and sister.

Every day after work, I get home and I get right to cleaning the dishes and the kitchen. Maybe take down the laundry if I still have time after prepping fruits. I have to prep these fruits because they decompose at the rate my parents buy them (assuming as though we still have a maid who cuts these fruits whenever we want them).

The house is infinitely cleaner (and also a little more messy). No one bothers to make their beds. Because making your bed anyway has got to be the World's most useless household chore. It doesn't make the place cleaner, freer of dust, or neater. You make your bed in the morning, leave the house the entire day where there is no one to enjoy the visual delight of a tidy bed. Then you return in the evening and up-end the pillows and the bolsters and the blankets in your sloppy, hasty need for sleep. Weekends are no better. The bed is never made, even though we occasionally glimpse it upon entering our rooms. There are some corners that should be cut, anyway, to maintain some semblance of sanity. When there are 3 working adults and 1 full-time student in the house. Everyone is always busy. We have no idea how other families cope without maids. I ask around, and people tell me they have this grandmother or that stay-at-home housewife mom, who does the bulk of the chores. For families that are fully employed, they hire a part-timer on weekends.

I think that might become our reality soon.

Signs that you have no maid a.k.a. conversations with Sister:

Sis: There is no cover for the rice container!! Go and find it!

Me: Aiyah, never mind lah. Let's just leave it first

Sis: But the weevils will come!

Me: I don't know where the cover is, you go and find it yourself.

.....

Sis: Let the weevils come then.

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

Me: Sister you want to eat some fruits? I go and cut them, what type you want?

Sister: [ponders].....What's the dying fruit of the day?

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

My mother is obsessed with cleaning corners of the house she never knew existed when we had a maid. I get extremely grouchy and very quick to temper when people disturb me in the kitchen, or dictate to me to cook this or that when I'm trying to save every dying vegetable (cos there's nobody automatically cooking them, unlike before). But I'm pretty fast at cooking now. I also wake up early, everyday. Weekends included. There's no such thing as sleeping in.

Three weeks have passed since we stopped having a maid. Feel incredibly drained. LIke someone just squeezed all the light out of my system. Guess it's because I'm not used to this at all. Not used to doing housework for 23 years of my life and now, suddenly, when I'm beginning to get used to the toil of corporate life, I have to learn the toil of house-keeping as well. Social events, put a strain on already stretched resources. When I go out on a weekday, I come back and I'm ready to collapse. When I go out on weekends, I wake up extra early to clear the chores before running out the house. And still, I don't want to compromise my calendar. Life must have a meaning, an event to look forward to. I must do all this housework and earn all this money for a greater end, and what purpose if I spend my time working but not enjoying the 'end'. Still, wanting to have your cake and eat it too, is really beginning to wear me down. I feel old these days, and my back hurts, and I've got eyebags. The other day I could barely keep my eyelids apart while my boss was talking to me. That's right, I was falling asleep right in front of an instruction-giving superior. Nicely done.

Time. Time

I used to have lots of it. Used to wield it with ease, bend it around my little finger. Milk it for all it's worth, and still, at the end of the day, I have lots to spare, to fill my time with hobbies, people, events. I used to scoff at those with horrid time management. Who complain that they have no time. What no time? There is all the time in the world, it depends on how you use it. I used to do a million things, run a million things. School ccas, youth group, church rehearsal, socialise like crazy (weekends packed in advance, sometimes 2 to 3 weeks ahead). I still try to do these crazy things, meet friends, youth group, go out, hang out. Have a life. Have a purposeful life.

How does one make space even for that cobwebbed area. Then again, it was abandoned because there was no traffic to begin with. So your heart becomes a store room. Years later, you can't recall it's original function. And the clutter, seemed more useful and purposeful, than the concept of shelter. It is more crowded than it has ever been, although the paint still seeps through the cracks in the wallpaper. All it takes, is one tiny crack to remind you.

2011-03-14T22:08:00.001+08:00

I am going to be 24 this year. It's almost halfway to 30. And yet, things feel so unaccomplished. Like I haven't really done anything. Barely started work, still a small prawn in the big scheme of things, so many things I do not yet know, so many years of learning ahead of me.

So many years of learning ahead of me. So much that I still don't know about life.

Some days, I think that taking my time, going the slow slow way, so slow that sometimes I'm not even sure I've moved beyond an inch, is going to result in nothingness. Or at most, maybe, a bunch of hiccups and late corrections, a bunch of regrets. I don't know.

Things move slow. My life, moves so slowly. Feels..like I'm caught in sludge and it's tough to move forth. Work's fine. Work is okay. Work is... work. For now, too early to judge, pre-empt and wish. Just day by day, plan ahead a little. I guess now this is my life. The working dead? haha.

So this is now my life. The one where I'm supposed to be really good at. The logical world, the mathematical world, the one you can count and weigh and surmise and flex it around your mechanical head. Wield it with ease. The simpler world. I'll do well, I already know.

So this becomes my life? The one where I focus on career, focus on progression, on pace, on getting ahead and somewhere, of becoming one of value. I could see myself in this. See it stretch beyond the years. See it become life. Funny how 2 weeks in, and suddenly the hollow in the quieter corners of my world start to blossom. Even in the short short time I have to unwind after work, it reveals itself. I thought I had it killed.

Maybe not, maybe the more you fill up your hourglass, the more aching those moments when they are lucid.

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

On another note:

My new colleague is damn f*cking cute.

DIE. lols

Somehow, the fact actually makes me sad.

2011-02-14T23:44:00.003+08:00

Today is probably the worst v-day thus far. Just dragging myself through it.

Things feel hopeless, since after last thursday. As it turns out, there wasn't going to be a future after all.

But! There's still all that... so so many things I have not said. So many. You have barely even begun to scratch the surface, and you say that what you see is already beautiful enough? Beautiful enough to ask for more, for love. But! There's an immeasurable volume unseen and untouched. How that would've blown you away, swept you off your feet, humbled. I have not even played my trump cards, not even offered those pieces of me, that made me the person I am today, that offered maybe the missing jigsaw puzzles when you say you can't figure me out. Like there's an area you can't quite touch. That's because I haven't shared.

We are not even there yet. Barely, scratched the surface. You might've thought you've seen it all, seen it all already. Or maybe the snail pace was not fast enough and life had to roll on. You have your missions and your deadlines, and I have my 'nows' to live, preferring not to conjure and project a future, preferring to bask in the present and soak it as it is. Come what may. That was what I wrote. Told myself. No expectations, no predictions, no demands. No rush. I don't want to run at all. No.

I wanted to float with the natural movement that emotion brings. Did just that. But it wasn't enough for you. No. It wasn't enough, and a value measured came up short. Logical deduction says split, there are better things to spend your time upon? Probably.

But I was a surface, barely scratched. And there are moments, moments that flit in and out like flies buzzing in a hot afternoon. Moments when I imagined a magical time of revelation. Of peeling behind covers and shields, letting you in, showing you the beacons inside. Weaving the arc of my histories, and comedies, and lulling you into falling for me... the Proper way. When you've really known me, could you say you love me. Because I don't drop words like these easily, because I weigh my words like gold and once spoken, I don't ever take them back.

I am a surface you've barely scratched. Sometimes, I wished you had waited for me to meet you there. At the faultline.

2010-10-28T00:39:00.001+08:00

Yesterday I learnt the true meaning of EPIC FAIL. It was spectacular to the point of speechlessness.

I am stunned. At self.

Really? Is it that repulsive? Wow.

2010-10-25T22:41:00.002+08:00

My thoughts are not truths.

And that is an important distinction.

The mathematician is perplexed. The recipe book has been followed to a tee. All the measurements and the calculations, right down to the 10th decimal. The forecast should portend the future. But it did not.

And he does not understand. Why, an every single level. When his' was superior, on every single level. Yet the formula and concoction still never works. It fails, time and time again. The experiments tire him. With every one, more questions and hypothesi, and randomisations and variations, they cloud his judgement and mar his findings. Yet he cannot discover the error, the one wrong step in the formula, which blew everything to bits. To not.

Maybe its systematic. Maybe it's environmental factors. Maybe this ingredient or that, wasn't good enough. Again. Maybe the problem...was the mathematician all along.

Maybe he is the error.

Maybe it's not a bad idea to put the lab to rest, finally.

---------

Because you were made for other things than this.

2010-10-16T23:25:00.007+08:00

There is a ball forming in my chest cavity. The kind that precedes anticipation, harks of future paths and doors you might find unlocked. But I need to clip these wings so ready to beat and fly. Tighten the leash and reel in my string. My gut tells me things that perhaps, would be better for me if I didn't hear them.

I feel like creating. Maybe it's in my nature, to effect things. But maybe, maybe, I should just wait for the universe to paint itself around me as I stay still.

Funny how the weather and the sky has such meaning for you. Sauntering amongst the curve of grey cement, down the campus green of my fleeting school. I'm leaving you in a few months, and somehow, the ache is already there. Not just for the concrete and the four walls, the fabulous library and gym and the beautiful bodies and admirable intellects. No, but for all the things that academia represents. All the trivial, trifle, little things, the non-issues and the pathetic worries. The crush to do work of absolutely zero real world impact. The shuffling from class to class, seat to seat, open laptop, facebook for 3 hours, close laptop and unplug. Recycle and loop this same rhythm for the next 2, 3 lessons, twice a week. Once in awhile, of cos, your instincts and nature compels that you lift your head to steal images and pine for that candy opposite you. To sigh inwardly past the transparent professor and his background noise. To wonder what it would be like, with a girl like you (or lately, a boy. Although with the girl and boy both in front of me, I always always turn to her instead).

As I walk through the cloud of memories, and camera reels on rewind, the colours today are a little hazy. The buildings are sort of murky, as though they were smudged. There is a thick, kind of sogginess in the air. Makes the colour scheme a little muted today. Although in my part of the world, the city center is always a brilliant spray of baby blue upon milk white and brocoli greens. And the wind lifts the corners of your lips. Today's a beautiful day in a beautiful school, filled with beautiful people. Singapore's own LA. Today's muted colours look faded. Like a photo from the past. After some time, those colours are supposed to fade and they are just reminiscent of what used to be. I was in the faded image of school today.

Back of the cab, the streetlights zoom by like markers. I don't know, can't remember exactly which point of the cab ride, did I suddenly feel this exhilaration. Maybe it's because the cabby has a habit of stomping on the gas after every green light. You feel the world pulled forward through your navel. And I remember being driven like that in the US. The picking up of speed and the child-like wonder as my eyes and mouth go O. And suddenly we're flying. Upon a red light, the car stops as if to ponder for a moment. And my mind follows its rhythm, slows to a crawl as it settles itself down to a rest. Acceptance and gratitude. The throbbing, dull feeling that any singular moment in life could be fully embraced and felt. Just feeling it was good enough, good enough to remind you of living.

There is paintball tomorrow. And a million people I want to meet soon and next week. There are projects and homework to complete (somehow these things will somehow resolve themselves. See how I've used 'somehow' twice?). If there is the possibility of softball, then that is all I need for next week to be amazing. There are futures not yet nailed down, not yet moulded and prodded by the workings of my deliberation. Makes me shift uneasily in my mind-chair. And I'm learning how to best rock with this boat.

Maybe it's not such a bad idea to wait for a current. After all.

2010-10-16T00:38:00.003+08:00

Brick and mortar all around. The glass shiny, pleasantly blinding. The lines and the squares and the angles all sharp and precise. With a setting sun filtering between the vertical parallels, the orange spreading out in an arc. I stand between and cut a black shape of me in it. Stop and ponder, the word-machine in my head connecting the red with the red inside.

I used to spend afternoons that never ended, walking your grey floors, speckled with unmentionables. Surrounded by a palette of styles and histories. Quirks that was the norm. Pop into small establishments filled with pride and that special something. Sat upon high top chairs, squealing rotating cushion seats. Order myself a sandwich as the surly guy eyes me over. And always, the expected random conversation that springs from inattention. Suddenly, I'm part of this city's pysche. As I walk from your west to east, water to waters. See the ships as smoke runs after them. Hear the call of the horn as I trot down the hemisphere, bringing the night into an awesome spectacle.

I go to your lesser cousin, but the more edgy, undiscovered, overlooked. With the squat houses of 1800s architecture and shoebox stores. With their attics and their lofts filled with gems and dusty antiques. Drink that ochre chocolate in an artistic lifestyle store. Where for once, pretentiousness was believable. And I lapped up your Andy Warhols and your Annie Lebovitzes, with the DJ at his pedastal. And this being you, your Djs never fail to transcend.

In the Vs of the channels, where the cars filter past the stone mason that time placed eternal, I sit under canopies of lazy shades. Merged with the metal chair and trusting, loved you enough to close my eyes for rest. Valuables pressed tight underneath crossed arms, still. Danger was always a side dip I never poked my fries in, but it's there to remind me all the same.

When the artificial lights itself, and your spaces go black, afternoons have morphed into the surreal night hours. The ones we never notice passing. The uninitiated, and the fearful, might find comfort and certainty in the brightest of your corners. Where Time and other joys are pigeon-holed into Squares, into conformity and mass market appeal. I chose instead to seek the underbelly. Dark, murky cafes. Stages with the ghastly spotlight upon a funny man. It's strange how people sneak up behind you, into my house through doors I never knew existed.

But that ship of war, with their buffet of planes and jets and helicopters. That stood like the lion guarding the gate of this city. The image of it, stamped permanent upon my film. The far end of the bow, where I curled and laid myself down to die. Finally. The breath held for days upon end, until the bubble was no longer containable. There were I heard grief for the first time in my own ears. Not saw them in words, or felt them. The clueless but human, whose voice reminded me of the world. Yes, it still exists and I am in a wonderful, magical place. About turn from the grey seas so apt of my mood, and you see the man-made mountains rising before you, and I'm thinking.

From 12 hour jamborees, musical drugs that plug the brain, from the quiet, numerous intellects that leave you astounded, from the array of art and talent and creation spun from joy, inspiration, sheer genius. From the smoke giants rising through sinkholes, from the jagged zigzags of the ladder making its way up the building, from the top of your steel heights, and the maze of your undulating greens. From the deepest recesses, to the opening and discovery of new things.

To die and be reborn in a place like yours. To owe you. This experience, this memory.

Yes I do owe you something. And there will be days, there will be days, to lie upon my bed and long to be back there. To be walking your streets, arrogant youth uncaring for danger, thirsty soul longing for experience. To defy and to rebel, to wherever the next turn, corner brings.

To find solace in the arms of a city.

2010-10-13T23:44:00.002+08:00

Flat. That's the word for now. A strange, neither sweet not sour, a tepid taste in the mouth. Like murky liquids, the surface opaque, particles obscuring the core. As the bubbles and dots cartwheel and revolve about timeless timeless glass. I stare but without patience to see it settle. Still staring, but not invested. Not reacting, just observing.

I've seen life encapsulated within a snow globe. Seen the fallout from having your world shaken carelessly. Seen the pathetic calming of dust, and the silent aftermath. And the quiet lament. The garden gnome stares back knowingly, eyes foretelling what my gut already knows. While a million cells away, the mathematician calculates with astonishing fervour, the answers to new equations. But he can't cure cancer, still.

Life is on screen-saver mode. As the technicians rush behind closed curtains. Tracing it to the source. Troubleshooting. Defragging. Erasing all the unneccsary cookies and files left from previous installations. Making way for new memory. Patching.

There is a time for everything. A time for gain, a time for loss. A time for you or yous. A time to play or fret. A time to wrestle and a time to relent. A time to wait and a time to hesitate. A time for purposeful hurt and a time for wasted grace. A time to grow cold, and a time to learn warmth. There is also a time to live your life, and a time to observe it.

Now is not the time for doing. I'm going to throw a fistful of grass, and see where it falls. And I'm going to pay, very, very, careful attention to the instincts and the motives and the knee-jerk reactions. It's time to be your own subject.

2010-10-10T00:46:00.002+08:00

"But here I lie on my own in a separate sky" -- Coldplay

I am writing less in the other blog. That is a huge sign of improvement.

The problem with eloquence and being articulate, is how much life you can give to pain. And so you conjure this time-eternal sandcastles of past memories, hurts and pains. Frozen in place and picture-perfect pose. Reading it is as good as revisiting it for real. Writing is like silently screaming, sometimes.

I want so badly to believe. I do.

But you can't discount history, and you can't just run on empty.

2010-10-04T13:01:00.001+08:00

The mind is a cage, and we're its animals.

2010-09-25T14:05:00.002+08:00

Twitch

The mind flickers and dies
Springs to life and spins in
crazier and crazier cartwheels upon
the spongey bouncy-castle of
my purple matter

as the light flies and sparks and
cascade like rust upon the floor

The engine purrs to life,
the mathematics and the sciences
all revved and connected for
the next passable conquest
where impossible is nothing because you
were made for greater things
than this.

2010-09-25T13:53:00.002+08:00

Recycle

Pick your favourite record
Set upon the gramaphone
Worn with overuse
The trenches etched deep
One singular storyline
Upon the surface of life

Timeless music plays
A refrain so similar
You hear it night to night
The strum of heartstrings
Pull of the bow
And waning of the moon
as it stares through your loft

Thoughts like lyrics
flotsam down the alley
choked at points too tight
Speech does no justice
They echo in silence
In the vacuum of
your God-given intellect

2010-09-22T09:59:00.001+08:00

I want so badly to believe that "there is truth, that love is real"
And I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd
I know you're wise beyond your years, but do you ever get the fear
That your perfect verse is just a lie you tell yourself to help you get by?

----- "Clark Gable", The Postal Service

2010-09-22T00:47:00.002+08:00

Today's bus trip back home after school was Heee-larious. See, we had just finished a long drawn out and mind-befuddling strategy project session... and we, or rather I, steered the conversation towards the perennial question mark of dating/love. Then we realised that if we applied business strategy tools to relationships/dating, it may actually work! Super hilarious.

In strategy, one must have a goal, powered by a strategic vision to achieve that goal, driven by tactics to achieve said strategy. Thus,

Goal >-- Strategy >-- Tactics

whereby,

Goal = Obtain Target Girl

Strategy = Increase market share in the mind of Target Girl (hahaha)

Tactics = Branding (increase awareness of your brand)

And then! I need to do a SWOT analysis of myself hahahaa.. SWOT stands for Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats.

And then I have to find a positioning for myself and a direction for my 'brand' using the GE matrix tool.

And then I must look towards Blue Ocean Strategy and ascertain if said target is a red or blue ocean. Red = too saturated, mature market filled with competitors. Blue = non-traditional target market, few competition.

And then! I get ....... her?

Haha... Haiz.... =/

2010-09-18T01:53:00.003+08:00

It's been an odd week of emotions. A couple of highs, lows. Some imagined, construed. Some maybe really true. But all through it ran a bold line of me. And it was constant. Steadily, but surely. Wavered a little, questioned itself as usual. Sometimes more faint than visible. But it was there alright. It's there.

I'm not too sure if it's still there. But I guess it has something to do with finally knowing what I want to do with my life - career-wise. Suddenly some big question marks seem answerable. Because I know if you're good, if you're passionate and driven, and you've found your niche... the money and the career will come. No matter how long it takes, it will come. And being someone who grows from experience, I know, from experience, that it will come for me. Work is essentially a simple equation. Less complicated than some equations. And thus, it's one that I can solve. Heck, we've been taught to solve problems like these all our lives. It's what I do best, what we all do best. And I'm sure all the training of all these years, plus knowing that this IS for me, will be enough to get me there.

It's nice to know that you will get somewhere one day. That you can see it coming, and even better, you know you can get there. Because past history tells you that this is one area you haven't been beaten yet. If I want it hard enough, I'll get there. Yeap.

Things might change, goals and visions might change. But for now, this is my compass and I'll travel where it points me.

Funny how work once again, tends to form my value.

So my line is a little stronger. But winds still buffet it from left to right. There is a measure of uncertainty that is discomforting. How I can see a future so strongly now, but some others are a total blank. But I guess this is something that I'd always struggle with. Like how the latest turn of events feels as though I'm walking back into history. Deja fucking vu.

Been reading the book, it has been immensely grounding so far. Who knew that accepting the fact that you are fucked up, would make you think less of how fucked up you are. Heh. That's basically the book in a nutshell. Of cos, it's so much more but I haven't gotten to those parts yet.

Yeah, you demons lying quiet beneath my bed. I know you're here to stay. But I'll take my bedfellows as they come, and know that the nightmares and thoughts are just that. Nightmares and thoughts. So just observe, and let it slide.

Meanwhile, you can stick it to the world and these thoughts and struggles, and walk to the greener grass on the other side.

2010-09-14T10:44:00.002+08:00

Right now, this place kind of represents me in my worse moods.

So the fact that I'm writing less and less.... is a good thing?

2010-08-22T17:14:00.003+08:00

Okay, this has got to be the worse birthday ever. For the first time in 23 years I am actually sick on my birthday. So there isn't the usual grand, extravagant, over-indulgent hotel buffet. No stuffing my face, no singing happy birthday on a nice big cake cos I can't eat much (and can't taste much). The day was spent at home. A large part of it, on the couch, with a tissue plastered permanently to the face and staring into space. Drinking water every 2-3 minutes. My most frequent activity was going to the toilet.

Thank goodness though, for online streaming and the Real L Wo rd. It's been keeping me entertained throughout the blight of snot. But it still sucks that I missed yesterday's party, held for the august babies and at someone's uber house. I really REAALLLY wanted to be present. But ah wells. This is like the third time I have missed the chance to visit 'The House' that we always talk about. Doesn't seem like I'm fated to check it out heh?

Anyways, strangely I am getting my wish to watch the concert bands I really liked. Turns out the class that clashes with the concert will be dropped. By me actually. I went to the class, saw the amount of work involved, measured it against my need for time and want to play softball and all other more important life-things and for the first time ever in SM U, I decided to change modules. Never had to do that before. So now I've grandly missed the first week of class for my substitute mod, but I think I'll live. Haha. I'm not too concerned about what works and what doesn't anymore. It's more of, yeah I won't perish and these things will pass. Okay so there, no need to sweat the small stuff.

The big stuff however, has me sweating heaps as usual.

I need a few miracles.

2010-08-18T23:40:00.003+08:00

The YOG is surprisingly quite a draw for me. I've been glued to the TV, trying to catch the popular sports like gymnastics, athletics, and hopefully also a glimpse of some hot tennis player. (Yeah we all know which one, the one whose photo has appeared in our local papers almost three times already. She had me at the first photo, haha)

They also have this daily concert thingy going on at the Marina Bay area. There are some really cool bands which I would kill to check out. Okay, maybe not kill. Heck, I'm not even going to skip class for them. But darns, it's such a pity knowing that my classes are going to clash with the concert schedules. I'm aching for some good live music after BSS at the esplanade. Today I actually went there after a party, just to check it out since I was in the area. The atmosphere is really nice and sort of intimate because there weren't many people around. I had an empty row all to myself. And the music was oddly pensive, and at times very instrumental (I like, very BSS-ish). It isn't often that we have huge and free and 'un-crowded' live music concerts in Singapore. Just wish I could actually make it for the bands I really really want to check out. Ah wells.

School has begun. I feel so detached and so alienated from it. The first day was rather nerve-wrecking. I actually felt my heart rate increasing as I neared school. It's as though I've forgotten what school is like and now I have to get back into the school-mode, which I don't seem to remember or understand. And now we got to do things in class like speak up for imaginary points? At work, we speak up when there are real problems real issues. Everything seems so... fake now. Everyone is a blur. I don't recognise most of the faces I see in school. But the clothes, yeah I recognise them alright. The SM U look, yeah I recognised it alright. Cookie-cutter, put an AC JC student in orchard road clothes and there, you've got the SM U look. Everybody is body/looks confident. Everybody knows how to look good. That's what our school is known for, right? Sometimes I wonder what I'm still doing here. In school. When all my fellow year-mates have graduated and are out working. Most of them in jobs I don't think they really enjoy. Well, of cos that's an assumption. But all I see are the big names, and the big name was the reason they applied for anyway. Ain't that true?

I've thought about doing the same, but then I'm not sure if the big names are going to give me satisfaction. I couldn't work in a big bank, doing the same daily grind, day in day out. Doing the same task day after day. I've been seriously thinking about going back to my old company (if they want me). I really liked what I did there. I like the feel of being in control of a big project. Plus if your CEO inspires such loyalty from your upper management bosses, that must count for something no? I guess I could do this for a living. Other corporate stuff doesn't hold much appeal.

What now, life? "On the crest of uncertainty..." But career will work out, as it would for everyone. We might muddle our way at first, but do the right thing one day. I don't know, I hope so. In the grander scheme of things however, there are greater uncertainties. I haven't gotten my big break and I don't see it coming. Still, time flies on and we erode. It gives me pause to realise that my prime is wasting away. Youth is fleeting, dying away. I once wrote a Toastmaster's speech on aging, that our youth is the one thing that we should cherish the most, because we keep losing it the moment we're born. It's the one thing you keep losing. And you can't ever get it back. My boss says I sometimes look like a 16 year old girl to her, especially when I'm in a dress. Maybe it's the way my body fights the loss of youth. Denial. Or maybe I'm just short. Okay fine, I'm short.

But I find myself growing older, a little. Actually, being 'pushed' into 'older', yes 'push' is a more appropriate word to emphasis the reluctance. I know that once a time has past, you cannot revisit it, you cannot undo the things you've done, you can't do the things you wished you had done then. You can't go back. And as I step into another doorway of the future, knowing full well that I'm leaving this youth behind with things undone. It pains me, in a way.

But history is unchangeable no? My history's already written. We can't lament our have-nots. It's done. Past is past, and knowing how this history has a knack of haunting you through words, thoughts, feelings, just accept that it'll be there. That this is your normal. And even the thoughts, those are also part of your normal.

Yeap, hands in pockets. That uncertain look. Questions blazing in my eyes, rhetorical ones. Hopefully someone has a genuine answer to them one day.

2010-08-16T23:23:00.003+08:00

I'm definitely getting that book.

Words trigger so many frustrations. It's just scribbles upon a page, yet seeing them can bring upon images. Unwanted, un-invited. You know where those triggers come from, you know the source and you know that this is how you react. It's good to know that I can actually just observe myself reacting. Makes things easier that way.

Life is awaiting. This computer game ain't lasting forever. And you know before you die, your important task must be pursued endlessly. Because it's what counts for 'happiness'. So rack up those kills, chalk up your experience points. Go save (take a deep breath), die (hurt) and reload (pick yourself up) again. And again. How can you get the dragon's loot if you don't kill it first? And yes your wounds would be a plenty, your stamina/mana all used up, your adventuring party a little worse for wear. But the loot's worth it right? Finding out what the loot is, is half the fun. Getting the loot was the only point of my game anyway.

And so I've stumbled into a few 'morally' questionable scenarios. Put myself foolishly in harm's way. Somehow I mananged to sneak out and under, safe and unhurt. But I won't always be this lucky. Ah, I know that. It doesn't change how I'll pounce on the next encounter again. Because it's all about the loot. Right?

I could think like this --- and live like this. Suddenly the black doesn't seem so bad at all. Vilified and demonised, one used to think that the black is meant to be fought, cleansed, purged until you get pure white. Blank. But your black is a part of you, a stain of history, the harbinger of thoughts and feelings you know you'll never control and will forever assail you. This black, it's just a part. One in a sum of so many other parts. Although still a crucial, pivotal and deeply important part. But better to carry your cross than to run away from it.

Yes, it's still there. Let's not lie, pretend anymore. It's there alright. But you know what? It'll be okay.

2010-07-26T00:43:00.003+08:00

The sister has returned from England, bearing gifts aplenty. At the airport, I made her a sign that stated aptly, "Mule". And you know a member of the family has returned from a very long hiatus when the living room is left in an apocalyptic state overnight due to too much unpacking to do. However, there is the problem of the ulcers in my throat and hence my inability to enjoy the spoils of her travels.

I would die to lovingly lather a crisp piece of toast with that special brandy butter fromScotland, or dip the italian biscottis in the special wine, or try my hand at cooking the myriad of dried pastas available, using fresh (and free) herbs from France.

Somehow it always seems that the return from overseas is accompanied by illness. I returned from Nepal with food poisoning, I returned from America with some-sorta flu. And now my sister has returned but I'm the sick one again. Urgh.

But other than that, life is a pleasant state of limbo. Not doing much except gaming religiously, reading my books, comics, hanging out with the churchies. Grocery shopping (I really love this activity actually). Some semblance of 'un-feeling' is creeping back to me, which is a much welcomed thing. It's good to have nothing to worry about. Although I know once this year is up, it's the beginning of a long and scary career grind. Right now, I'm just ignoring the inevitable.

The last six months! My last six months... to be an irresponsible student. To do whatever, anything, free free cartwheel away. Carelessness. Let me steep a little more in this jacuzzi, I could almost fall asleep.

Five years on, and I see that we're still in the same state. Maybe there were spurts of outbursts here and there, valiant attempts to move to square 2. But we're still here all the same, holding hands in our heads, singing kumbaya in an imaginary campfire of mutual comfort. Although we'd all rather up and leave the first moment we can, if we can. If. Yeah you said right today, "I don't understand how it's possible." I don't either, I never got it. Someone forget to slip me the memo. Five years on and I still don't get it. And I know the people around the campfire, those with me, we all really don't get it. I tell you, it's random. Pure randomness. We just got dealt the bad hand or lousy roll of the dice. Sure you can spike it, taint it, but it still falls in a manner you don't control, can't predict, can't manipulate. Like they said, the house always win. So stop trying to crack the house and figure it out. You can't.

There is some kind of peer pressure, subtly felt and unspoken, unthought of. It's the kind of thing that only surfaces after prolonged exposure and you realised you're under its effects. This pressure, I don't like it, partly because your own beliefs and mindsets reinforce it. We're all reinforcing it. The brainwashing images are all around, you can't help get sucked into it. You start counting, measuring, not others, yourself. Then time always seems like a bomb ready to explode. If you're not fast enough, not ahead enough. I'm keeping score with myself. This quiet throbbing peer pressure, coupled with this simmering 'self-pressure', add on the warning signs and tempting treats laced all the way down the path. And you've got yourself an ego who feels she can't ever measure up. To whose standards? Mine, yours? Theirs? Mostly mine, maybe. The standard of normalcy.

Maybe this is my normal. It's supposed to be like this.

2010-07-14T00:28:00.003+08:00

Wikipedia and Bejeweled are my two big attention-grabbers on the internet right now. Wiki for losing yourself in aimless trivia, the more sensationalist, the more I get glued to the screen heh. Been reading about war stuff for abit now, some of it is real scary but somehow, I always find myself going back to read them.

Bejeweled on the other hand, is giving me a neck-ache and eyeball-ache too.

My stash of Preacher is running out. I have no computer games left to play. The TV programme these days are trash. *wrings hair in despair* I'm either running out of people to ask out, or I need to make more friends.

Maybe this is a sign that I should up and start house-hunting. Drive around estates in Singapore, scout out locations, check out neighbourhoods. Damn, I need a 'pardner' for this, or at least a navigator. Because today I beat a red light as I was too engrossed trying to look out for an MRT. This is bad.

Okay, first things first, let's go to sleep. It's way past my bed-time.

2010-07-04T18:11:00.004+08:00

There is nothing I am compelled to do. Time is my own to waste, to spoil. Aimlessness is such a pleasure.

Anything. Whatever. Up to whims and fancies. Moods, emotions, impulse, urge. Anything.

It's strange and a little disconcerting, that I should feel freer when you see that the battle is lost. Like effort is no longer required, there is no need to put flesh and blood out there as your shield and dignity as your sword. Upon an empty field, surveying it atop my ride, all is as it should be and always was once more. It feels so familiar. That otherwise would be alien and terrifying and impossible, No! Unthinkable.

Stripped away. There's nothing but bare hands, open, a little caution beading at the lines. Callused, used, wrinkled with the jadedness of experience. Close tight now into balled fists. Knuckles hard and ready. Let's go, life is waiting. The bus is leaving soon, don't bother with the trains, they won't stop for you. No time to waste, to doubt or question. Get the grit out from under your nails, don't forget that there's still you.

I will be 23 soon. How I fight that number and all that it represents of my life so far. That I am 23 and yet have so little to paste upon my board of life. Of experiences ungained, not yet earned, lost, or missed. To know that if tomorrow were the last day, IF it was, I would go with regrets. Knowing that my time here is not yet done because of so so many things.

How strange, when the more you want something the more it eludes you. When all this while, the harder I fought for something, the more certain it becomes mine. Effort equals result. As if to prove its point, the same becomes of my work at my internship. Work hard, prove yourself, and you know people acknowledge it. That they can see the potential in you, and know that you are worth it. That I am worthy enough. Of value. Effort equals result. Always.

Almost, always.

Blank mind. White, unblemished paper. Smooth, not ruffled. Clean. Let's begin again. Back to the drawing board, my many missile strategies and war plans are a failing. Sit and stare at the zig-zagging lines, the arrows drawing to conclusions, the logical connections that are supposed to work in theory (only). Sit and stare and realised your mind's a blank. Crumple up your best-laid plans, ball them and toss them into the basket. Start tossing the paper balls into the basket. Suddenly it becomes a compelling, therapeutic act. All concentration upon the dumping of your work. How strangely, relieving it feels. To throw it all away. To dust, to ashes. My best laid plans. And then that's nothing more left to throw on my desk. It's empty. Just like the mind.

Let's try to get ourselves lost in debauchery the next few days. When life is channeling towards another black hole, at least go out in fireworks.

"I fought the war, I fought the war
But the war won't stop for the love of God"

---- "Monster Hospital", Metric.

2010-07-02T17:19:00.002+08:00

Internship is over!

Yes!

Free time, so much free time I cannot believe it. It is strange to wake up when the sun is all bright and hot on my face. Strange to be able to waste time, sitting around doing nothing in particular, to spend all my time playing computer games and not feel guilty.

I've got so many things I want to do. Try out a new recipe once in a while (I scrape the cooking school option because it's kinda late and it is expensive). I plan to go swimming and more running to lose the flab. Have over-eaten during this internship cos nice colleagues keep buying me lunches at very nice restaurants. Plus I sit behind the unofficial snack bar at my office and the Big Boss is a foodie so he always buys like famous hawker food for us.

I can be a kid again. No more adult world. No more watching the things I say, framing thoughts and arguements and requests. No more 1 million multi-tasking, juggling, no more need to have foresight, to think ahead and anticipate what's needed. No more responsibility. It's nice, to be able to do nothing.

Yet all is hurtling towards the inevitable, my holiday will end soon, I have to start planning for my career, start thinking, asking myself hard questions.

But for now, to rot is a joy.

Oh the many things I have planned! The list of possibilities are endless, the days feel eternal, this holiday will never end! For now, that's how it feels. But my good friend is overseas, and people are busy, working. There are limited people I could ask out. I've got my weekends filled to the brim. But my weekdays are pretty empty for now. All of a sudden I wished there was softball training, at least that would be something to look forward to. My books, games and graphic novels will not last me past next week. I need ... more things to fill the time. Hmm, not that I'm complaining of cos. Free time is always good, I just need to fill it with hedonistic and enjoyable things. Cos in about 6 months, I won't have such luxury when I start work for real.

But that's okay, let happy troubles visit me later. Right now I just want to bask in laziness!

2010-06-26T22:21:00.002+08:00

So today I said a bunch of uplifting, forward-looking, optimistic mumbo-jumbo. As the words came out, I'm not sure I really believe in them myself.

But to let others hear the alternative would have been far worse. No no, they cannot go forth in life and feel like this, think like this. I guess they'll have to arrive at those mindsets through personal experience. Hopefully, they won't have that misfortune. Hopefully, theirs will be better perspective.

I definitely learn one thing today.

"Nobody loves your broken-ness". But that fact, doesn't make it any easier to think it away.

2010-06-14T21:18:00.000+08:00

Cruelest, almost
Always to ourselves

------ "It's in our hands", Bjork

2010-06-01T00:23:00.003+08:00

I feel down.

It's tough to feel strong, after so many disappointments. Always, always makes you question if you had it in you in the first place.

Surely, I have some value.

No?

2010-05-21T20:41:00.008+08:00

Can't wait for weekend!

First virginal prawning experience. Chance to sleep for a good long time. Hibernate under the covers until the sun hits 8ish -am and I've got to lose some flab by running alongside my forest, my secret garden. Shocking news related to sports: The Mother and I have joined this year's standard chartered marathon. Primarily because we wanted that coveted $500 goodie bag that the sponsors were going to give out to the first 80 participants. But this being Singapore, people already queued overnight. We didn't have that foresight. (Although my mother now has the hindsight to send either a. one of the junior minions under her or b. the 'mysterious male friend' to camp overnight for next year's marathon registration).

We did however, made it to the first 880 participants to obtain a goodie bag that is worth less than the price of our registration. Nice going mother! It was worth the registration price, plus my transport from the office, plus some blistered feet in heels. That and also a one hour wait under the relentless raffles place noon sun. Don't you think that the CBD area is somehow really really hot, more so than other parts of Singapore? I figure it's because of all that fancy glass buildings around. And almost zero trees. Either way, I sure had an introduction to the marathon that day, sweating in the sun, calves tight and ablaze from kiasu brisk-walking. Just like when I was in the airplane going towards Hawaii, and the air stewardess accidentally spilled water on my friend and promptly smiled, "Welcome to Hawaii! Here's a taste of what's awaiting you!"

My brain's jumping all over the place. And my writing is going straight to the bin. I guess this must be a sign that my life is generally on an upswing now. I should give thanks that the writing is like shit, I suppose. Hallelujah?

Anyways, back to confusion:

Bought a couple of wines from the wine fair today. Plus caviar and cheese, all on sale of cos. I am currently considering who are the good and worthy people in my life to give/share this bountiful harvest with.

I have a present, which I hesitate to give. Because we know I know you know, it would not be appreciated. Much. So much for being too excited and spontaneous and wildly, optimistic. The price also kinda hurts too. Cos I'm someone who links relationships between people and objects, and the link rarely changes. Can't seem to change the connection. So I only really have one use for that item. Besides, I only believe in giving what would speak to people. And so these items are never generic things that you could apply across the board. It has also dawned upon me that I never even made it to present-giving. With anyone. Wow, that is how little progress I actually make.

Went for the lesbian party last night. Ho-hum, I felt pensive in the dark. Penny for your thoughts? Not for a million bucks. There are too many overlapping plots, thank goodness for the safety of boys.

Last night was also Astro night. We got like free tarot readings. Although as usual, character guessing was spot-on. BLOODY spot on tonight I must say. Cos it was exactly how I operate. But those future predictions always leave me feeling iffy. Take with bottle of salt please. Because the cards say some person who is always around me in my life apparently likes me, has always liked me, but I've never noticed cos she/he (??? there's a he??) hides it so well.

Yeaaaahhhhh riiiight. Then the P AP isn't the government and my love actually gets requited.

I've been running through the people in my head and I can safely say there isn't any. (unless one of my gay boys suddenly had a straight epiphany).

I change my mind too often. It hops all over the place. Music effects its mood on me sometimes. I change cos of the tune. Right now, there is laid-back, weary-eyed, pensive Ani Difranco on. I feel old. I will be 23 soon. In 7 years I'm going to be arrggghhhhH!!! And yesterday one of the VPs said something really scary. She said, haha you've been in the company so long you might as well convert full time. Then first thing the big boss will do is to kick you to the china division!

CHINA.

That is damn bloody scary. I don't want China! But yes yes, great opportunities abound, great learning experience, market value increase exponential. But my gosh, my life, MY SOCIAL LIFE, will be in chinese...... Is that not a fate worse than death? haha, okay I exaggerate. But still! I hope she was kidding, I seriously hope so.

But on the bright side, I have a 40% discount voucher. Yay. When you work in the shopping mall industry, industry perks sometimes befall you. Monday night will see me burn more credit (but at 40% lesser!) and get me some new threads, dresses even, maybe. Maybe, maybe, always maybe. But for some reason I'm looking a lot at dresses today. I want more. It goes with my fringe. Haha. Plus it makes for easy access ... Anyways! I need to plan my freedom soon. By end June I will have 1 and a half months to fill with lots of love and excitment and indulgence and growth and wallet-burning. I must plan how I am going to enjoy myself. The people to seek out, (only worthy prosaic company of cos), the events to check out, the places to explore and unearth, the cooking to learn, THE FAT TO LOSE.

More time for the youth group too. Which is going great at the moment. Yes this life has a purpose, and maybe, for awhile, I've found my purpose at this point in my life. To be able to give people, the things I never had. We're headed for uncharted territory, but I hope the energy never leaves. Cos it gets better each time. But soon I'll need succession plans.

One step at a time babe, one step at a time.

Right now, my heart needs a rest. No more feeling, would be good. I will try my best.

"Love is like cancer. If you detect it in its early stages, it's easier to eradicate, to purge. But if you let it fester and grow, then I'm sorry it'll be terminal. By the time you want it out of your system, it'll be too late. And chemotherapy is not something you'll ever want to experience. Trust me"

2010-05-18T23:20:00.003+08:00

"I don't ever. Ever. Want to fall in love with someone I can't get again.

It's nothing but needless pain."

I wrote this in the gnome's lair, some 2 years ago. Almost 2 years exactly, seeing the date.

It's time for a change.

2010-05-18T22:33:00.004+08:00

Ambivalent weekend.

Went for Pink Dot. Ho hum. It was great hanging out with the youths, stealing those large helium balloons, taking loony photos. The waiting wasn't so nice. Plus I wasn't really 'in the present', when there's a C-sized absence. Tough shit.

Went for dinner later at tcc, gave up the bbq with the youths (what am I thinking?). Dinner was okay. Company was odd, a mix of reactions. I worried for my big balloon near the hot lights. Got a bag of contradictory signs.

Sunday was even more of a tragicomedy. The seminar in church was great, I learnt alot of wise things from funny people. Learnt some practical truths, and saw love distilled down into an industrial process. Efficient, not romantic delusions, is what will get you somewhere. Works for some people, doesn't work for others. As much as we try to put together formulas and plans, it all goes to bust in the face of fate. Shit happens, I can attest to that. Shit happens frequently. Went out after church, missed my fire show because of f-ing rain. But still I had a great time chatting. Can't say the same for the content though, some things you'd rather not hear or know of. But on hindsight, it was better to be aware than blind. So this is how things are. The cards are there for you to see, fog of war has been cleared. You've got your questions answered, though they weren't the answers you wanted to hear.

How could you ever compete with that.

Maybe you could. But we all know from past experience, what a grinder that could be. I'm not sure I want to go into the grinder again. Something tells me that I am more than a substitute, a second-best. A since-you're-here-why-not, or an okay-you'll-do. But then again, I've never proven myself more than that. Maybe because it never seemed worth while, or if I tried, I never got those chances to prove myself.

Why does this seem harder than it's supposed to be.

Still, head's up girl. Life throws you curveballs, but it's time to face them with a smile. Because frowning and angst won't help, have never really (except create great prose from your fingertips, but I rather live happy than die a sylvia plath). Have faith.

It's like what mommy always say when I'm younger. Just study hard, do your best, and whatever those exam results are, don't worry about them. Whatever it's meant to be, will be.

I don't know if this will mean anything, or lead to anything. But I will still try , because above all else, I've got to give myself a chance. Although I won't deny that I do feel immense disappointment from seeing this warning sign. Cos it's been awhile since I felt a stir. Something possibly genuine. And not another of those encounters in my delirium and bout of defiance, protest, and spite (as you so correctly identify). I could try of cos, but no matter what, no matter damn what, I won't allow myself, I won't concede... to be only second-best. To be a substitute. Because you were made for better things than this. Because you deserve better than that.

So if things return to square one, well then, repeated history 1, elsa 0.

My (rerun) exit music please!

2010-05-06T23:15:00.001+08:00

Hold steady. Don't DON'T succumb to temptation. Although visions of grandeur and romance and ingenuity and serendipity fill your movie screens. Don't! Don't do it. Hold steady, darling. I'm ready to shoot off the blocks, make those false starts before the gun erupts. But we've watched so many re-runs of this soap opera, let's not go into rewind and replay old scenes. Let's do it a different way. Because something tells me, that I must stop running, stop chasing time. I've to let time come to me when its due. Something also tells me, that this time it cannot be rushed.

It's like cooking orh nee. If you turn the heat up too high, trying to cook the gingko nuts faster, you burn the yam. And what you get is lumpy, acrid tasting chunks. But if you went slow, if you had put on the slow burner, stir that shit slowly, slowly, patiently. You'd get yourself a smooth, sweet, sublime cream of yam. Wait.

I've to learn patience, and I've to learn faith. That waiting is good, that the pulling of time like toffee will be like marinating. It'll taste all the better. No more premature bursting of balloons.

But to wait, is also to risk. And in taking the risks, I've got to have faith that I already have what it takes to get there. And faith too, that the elements are all there in place for me to make things happen. Even if there are other runners in this race. Even though removing your cupped hands from around a flame could let it extinguish in the wind. But to squeeze too tight, huddle too close, would be to deprive it of oxygen-giving air. Balance. I must learn balance. And patience. And faith.

Because maybe, just maybe, this could be real.

we live on a mountain
right at the top
there's a beautiful view
from the top of the mountain
every morning i walk towards the edge
and throw little things off
like:
car-parts, bottles and cutlery
or whatever i find lying around

it's become a habit
a way
to start the day

i go through this
before you wake up
so i can feel happier
to be safe up here with you

it's real early morning
no-one is awake
i'm back at my cliff
still throwing things off
i listen to the sounds they make
on their way down
i follow with my eyes 'til they crash
imagine what my body would sound like
slamming against those rocks

and when it lands
will my eyes
be closed or open?

i'll go through all this
before you wake up
so i can feel happier
to be safe up here with you

--------"Hyperballad", Bjork

2010-05-03T23:35:00.004+08:00

Let's go in with eyes wide shut. And the head a clean slate. Sweep the dust off your shoulders girl, cos you've got a future to make happen.

All of a sudden, I can't wait for my internship to end. Four months without leave is beginning to be very tiring. Sure, work is never boring, never the same each day. But the me inside is dying to have a life on the weekdays, when there's daylight. No more owl-activities only, I need more than that.

I want to go out and shop, I want to walk the streets, wake up when the sun is already high in the sky and on my face. I'm done with 10 minute sprints from the bed to the bus. Ready to trade my heels for my slippers. Enough of my boardroom meetings, give me a movie, popcorn and maybe good company. Yeah I can't wait for it to be over. I miss playing. I miss irresponsibility. Haha.

You know what I feel like right now? I just want to window shop through streets on a sleepy afternoon, listen to music-like-sex, and be content in mutual silence. With you, maybe. Maybe maybe, always, maybe.

Life is a game of poker sometimes, you just have to wait and see what sort of hand fate deals you, and if it deals you a lousy hand, let's see how good you could play it. I don't have a poker face, so I usually lose big time. But now, maybe capital isn't so important. Cos I've got my big pot of gold waiting somewhere.

So let's go in eyes wide shut, and enjoy it while it lasts. I'll learn patience while I wait for my freedom in 1 and a half months' time. Then when I'm free, I'll have time to make magic.

Because you know you were made for better things. Than this.

2010-05-01T01:34:00.005+08:00

I used to wait for things. Like there are certain things I want to do, want to watch, catch, admire, bask in, explore. Live. Experience. I used to wait. To do these things.

There are some things I've brought home from the US, which I haven't open and explored. I keep these things aside for the one day I'll have good and better reason to use them. But it's been almost a year. And what a record time keeps. One year on, and this object has not been touched. Left to dust. Sometimes I even forgot that I've bought it, bought it for a reason. Sometimes I forgot I'm still waiting. But a year has gone, and I'm nowhere near using it.

I could go right ahead, dive in. Put the 'me-first' attitude and ripped the packaging out. Use that which I've been waiting for. Because after so long, it appears there is no point to waiting anymore. But I don't know.

I've done this many times. Wait, and finally, when I can't wait anymore. . .go right into it. Sure, I get to see some things faster this way. Instead of hanging around for goodness know's when. But for someone who doesn't like to do the same things too often, and who's always seeking the new, very soon I might just run out of newness. That, in Singapore, is a strong possibility. Very soon, I'll know most places like the back of my hand, explore all the nooks and crannies and special places. Very soon, I would have ploughed through all the magical things I want to do. Very soon, there'll be little surprises left in store. Very soon, the black fog of war would be cleared and I'll be able to see the whole map, the whole landscape. Then there's no more.

Everything hereon from now, would be a repeat. A rewind of experience. Flashbacks that after awhile, I start getting sick of. Uniqueness that after awhile, begins to dull on me. And there's nothing more to look forward to.

And so I hesitate. I hesitate to open my wants, my curiousities. I hesitate to discover ahead of time. Even though sometimes, it seems that time is telling you not to wait for it. Because there is no point in waiting.

There are many things I want to see. But I hold back. I hope I'm waiting for good reason, I hope it's worth it. But there are many things I want to see and do, and it's beginning to dawn upon me, that maybe I should forge ahead and break new frontiers.

I'm no stranger to that actually. Doing the new, without 'back-up', without second opinion. Just do, by myself, always, usually, most certainly, by myself I discover these things. Sometimes people are surprised that I don't wait. That I just go. But tell me then, if I don't go it alone, then when?

Cos sometimes, it feels like never. Unless I go it alone. Then yes, I still can share, feel, that bit of sparkle and magic. Even if it's fleeting, even if it reminds me of how nice it'll be, if I had waited. And if waiting was worthwhile eventually.

It would be nice, to predict a few steps ahead of yourself. It would be nice, to know what lies across the fog. But when you can't do that, sometimes you have to toss a coin, make a choice, and between hovering, suspended in aimlessness, maybe just tearing through the bush would be better.

But there are days though, that I still succumb to the waiting. Maybe, there will be a day when it would be appropriate to open the mysteries, plumb the depths and seek that which you wondered about. Maybe there will be an opportune time, in some intangible, far-off future. Maybes. I still hold out for these maybes.

But as the days turn into months and into years, these maybes are beginning to dim. Because you can't discount history and because you can't just run on empty. Sometimes, some days, I'm not sure about these maybes anymore.

2010-04-26T22:15:00.003+08:00

Work has been trying lately. There have been problematic 'clients'. They annoy me. Maybe I'd prefer working with the numbers, numbers don't argue back at you. But anyways....

I'm at a stage of my life... that I can only describe as 'weird'. I guess it's weird cos I'm the kind of person who wants to know what she's in for, what's ahead. I'm a Planner, with the occasional penchance for pleasant and spontaneous surprises. I like surprises when I consider them a 'bonus', like something fun but extra at the end of the day. Not expected, not needed. Actually, I tend to live my daily life on such an edge. With the occasional social event springing up with only a few hours' notice. That's fun, that's exciting.

But it's different when it comes to major life events, I'd prefer to anticipate that, to know what's in store. To know where I'm going.

The other day my friend asked me, "So what do you really want?" and I couldn't answer.

Am I supposed to know what I want? What's right for me? It seems the more I live, the less I know what I want, and the more I know what I don't want. I wish I could say I knew what I wanted for sure, and commit to it with full conviction, but I'm not sure if it's going to be another wrong choice that I'll make. Another of those choices that tell me what I don't want, instead of yes, this is what I really want, what I'm missing, searching for.

This six-month break feels surreal. At times I feel as though I'm both in the dreamland of a student, still ignorant to the realities and responsibilities of adulthood and earning your own keep, and at the same time I'm deep in the muck of career, of work and having a taste of life for the next 40 years. Life chasing papers and moneys, of climbing the ladders, of searching and probing for opportunities, of proving your worth to your bosses, of learning about the cogs and machinery of this industry, this world. Of making yourself a success - material success. I dread going back to either. Because I know my last semester is one party which I don't want to end. Because I know once work starts, youth and idealism as I know it, would be over. And I am no longer the slug who could eat leaves and daydream all day about the endlessness of life. I'll be out of this cocoon, now winged, and supposedly equipped to take on this world. I'm not sure if I'm ready. Not about whether I'm smart or good enough, but whether my heart's ready for it. To grow up.

There are so many things of youth I have yet to do. So many things that take on a different flavour when done while you're still in school, and carefree. And before one even gets to live the foolishness and heady rush of youth, one has to grow up and look through the lens of jadedness, cynism-laden eyes, and know that the wishes and wants of youth are a fleeting memory and best left in dreams. Never experienced. Always romanticised. Maybe some things are best left that way? The things we never had. The things we didn't try. The have-nots, the left-outs, the forgottens, the empty. But onward soldier march! Time doesn't wait, and grow up I have to, grow out of my dreams, even before I've the chance to give breathe to them.

My time is running out. And I'm resigned to the fact, that some things in this world are never meant to be. Not in this lifetime. Whatever happens hereon from now, is a bonus, not expected, not hoped for, or believed in, I'll leave my aspirations at the door. To wish, to want, is a moot point. To dream, is a moot point. For my mind is better spent upon blank. Numbingly, refreshingly, blank. And this, 'fuck-care I'll do whatever I want' train of thought acts like a soothing balm on a fatigued heart.

Because the truth of the matter is, some things in this world are never meant for me. Not in this lifetime. And this bitter pill now swallowed, frees me to rush headlong into whatever, whenever, instanteneous happiness, electric circuit joy, bursts of fulfillment.

So the past is an ugly one. Noted with thanklessness. The present is a question mark, some blips of activity, of highs and twists and sometimes, certain lows. But there is a change in pace and colour and life nonetheless. Noted with thanks. Although it poses questions to me, makes me wonder what I want, makes me wonder if I was mistaken, thought I knew what I was looking for, what I needed. There's also been some trying times, some bumps in the road, makes me question myself. Maybe I need more compassion. Maybe I need to stop counting. Maybe I should learn to lie, and to be less honest. Maybe I should stop pushing for equilibrium, for balance, maybe I should learn that being a doormat is sometimes good, that unfair suffering, is sometimes good in the larger picture. That I cannot hold people to my own standards. And measure themselves up to me.

But it's tough, when you thought you found your equal once.

But awareness is acknowledgement is a work-in-progress to overcome your weakness. And yes, I will learn not to analyse, not to measure. Not to mind. And whatever happens from hereon now, is a bonues, not asked, not expected, not wanted, but given (if God feels like it). It will be a pleasant surprise. And if not, onward soldier march! For I have growing up to do, and no time for the daydreams of my youth. For I've spent the greater part of 4 years chasing those dreams, and now with only 6 months left in official youth-dom, I will let them go. For they have not served me tangibles anyway, and my time is better spent in living, than in dreaming. And whatever happens, will take a miracle to go against all of life's past history so far.

This mathematician has no way of calculating a miracle. It may not even occur in her lifetime, but if it does. Well, if it does.

2010-03-21T06:08:00.002+08:00

A friend posted this on her fb. I shan't tell her but I'll be copying it here onto my blog.

"To the people who matter to me (:

Think of someone you love. What is your relationship with that person? Think of an event that happened recently that brought happiness to the both of you. What was that event? When did it happen? Did it happen in the day or at night? Spend a few seconds to savour that happiness that is still lingering in your heart right now.

On the other hand, think of an event that happened recently that broke the hearts of both of you. What happened? Do you remember the words that were hurled at each other? Do you remember the hurt that you felt? Did you notice any sadness in his or her eyes? Is that hurt still lingering in your heart right now?

Think of this person again. How much do you value this person? If you can give this person a numerical value, with a scale of 100, how much will you give? This is not the same as rating that person. This is not an exercise for you to rate how well the person has treated you. It simply is the value of having this person in your life. Or rather, how much do you value your relationship with this person?

Economists make decisions by using the concept of marginal benefit and marginal cost. Imagine you have two mangoes, and you ate the first one. The benefit of eating the first mango is the sweetness in your mouth, and of course scientifically, the nutrients that you just consumed. Let’s say the benefit of eating that mango is 80. And let’s say the cost of eating that mango, which includes the price you paid for that mango and all other things like spending time to cut the mango, is 50. Since the benefit is greater than the cost of eating the mango, you eat that mango.

What happens when you eat the second mango? Perhaps, you are already full from eating the first mango and the sweetness of that mango still lingers in your mouth. The benefit of eating the second mango is now 40. That is the marginal benefit of eating the second mango. The cost remains the same. The marginal cost of eating the second mango is 50. Since marginal cost is greater than marginal benefit, you do not eat that mango.

The concept of marginal benefit and marginal cost analysis is very apt in our lives as well. Think of the happy event again. The happiness that it brought for the both of you, how that event strengthened the relationship between the both of you, etc. What is the value of this event? Are there any costs involved? Truth is, the difference in benefit and cost is positive and that is the reason why that event brought the both of you happiness.

Think of the sad event again. Did you torlerate the actions of the person up to a certain point and you decided that you’ve had enough? When hurtful words were hurled at each other just to piss each other off, how much steam did you let off? How much pleasure did you derive from hurting that person you love? Perhaps, you give a value of 40 when you hurt the person. That is the marginal benefit you get from pissing the person you love off. Hurling insults at each other or doing things that hurt each other is damaging to the relationship. How much did you say you value that person or relationship again? Was it 70 or 80? That is the marginal cost of your actions when you are angry or hurt. That is the amount of damage you are doing. Since marginal cost is so much greater than marginal benefit, why then do people always hurt the people they love the most?

As human beings, we get emotional when we feel threatened. Our precious pride might be threatened when people insult us. We build up a wall of defense around our hearts when we sense that hurt is looming around the corner. If only we can apply the concept of marginal benefit and marginal cost in our lives, our relationships with the people we love will be so much better.

As Paul says, “Love is patient, love is kind.” The word ‘is’ is often used when describing the subject. The dog is cute. The apple is green. And when Paul says that love is patient, love is kind, I believe he is not describing love as something that is patient and kind. In fact, I would like to think that he meant love, in itself, is patient. Ie, Love is patience. Love, in itself, is kind. Indeed, being in love means being patient and kind to the person you love. What would the marginal cost be when you blow your top at someone you love?

Paul went on to say that love does not envy, it does not boast and it is not proud. If that person you love is smarter or richer than you, you do not envy that person for the gifts that God has given to him. How much harm are you bringing to the relationship by being envious with the gifts that the person has? Think of the marginal cost again. Of course, you do not boast of your gifts too. Is there any marginal benefit when you boast about your successes or your talents?

“It is not rude, it is not self- seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” If you truly understand the concept of marginal cost and marginal benefit in your life, love will not be rude, it will not be self- seeking, it will not be easily angered and it will keep no record of wrongs.

If love is not patient, love is not kind, if it is rude, self-seeking and easily angered, and if it keeps records of wrongs, then you will find that the value of the relationship which you value now will decrease over time. And when that day comes, you will know that the relationship is over because the marginal benefit of being a little more patient, a little more kind, will be less than that if you had blown your top off and hurt the other person. And that is because you will no longer value that relationship. And then, you will realize that love is gone.

So always remember; love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of this is love."

I guess it speaks for itself. Hmm.

2010-02-28T23:34:00.005+08:00

Have you ever felt like:

There are some things that need to be said, that are wrecked with emotion, with nights and thoughts, and endless walking through the desert. Some things that are pregnant with intention, and perhaps redemption. Some thoughts that are so heavy so ancient and cast into stone, that when you try to mouth them, to form the words, to even think, process a means to begin. The burden of it just stops you, freezes you, the words can't find it within themselves to come out. Because at the crux of it all, is the fact that saying means nothing, doesn't lead to fruition, doesn't change the past or affect the present. That a statement of fact, is nothing else but what it plainly is. And the effort spent upon summoning courage, the steam to move forth into the volley of words, the train wreck that wishes to spill. Just doesn't seem worth it at all. That maybe abandoning self is better after all. To surrender to the fatigue of it all. And just give in to being. In this moment, this is what Life is. Some things, past their prime, their peak, is not meant to be revisited. They may not come out right, they may not come out expressing all that was truthful, all that needs to be expressed.

Maybe, all I can give is a thoughtful look sideways, and a smile that speaks of unspoken things. For once, you are beaten, and the arrogance in you, who once believed that you would never ever fail at anything you set out to do. You, the sun, who believed were the center of the universe, has decided to pass yourself by. You, who realised where the real failure lies. And how much rage and indignation you rail against fate and time, will not change the fact that redemption wasn't ever an end to begin with.

That life is not one clean cut. It is crudely inefficient. That walking through it leaves pieces of you torn out in the wake. That sweeping everything clear and starting on clean slates is rarity that you won't get to see. Not this. J once told me, never to leave myself behind, to not let life experience eat away at the core of you. And I have tried, and note I do not use the word try lightly. For arrogant as this may sound, I am one who seeks with a vengence and a zeal and focus that you couldn't break. There is no need to repeat the list of triumphs that prove so. For I know them by heart and they represent the foundation of I. Gifted or through effort or otherwise, they speak to me that impossible is truly nothing. And doubt was never in my vocabulary.

Yet to realise that some things could defeat you. Despite the grandest of efforts, the throwing of powers and might and absolute desire at it, could still defeat you. To know that there is no end game. And to realise that life isn't always a zero-sum game, that sometimes equations are left unfinished. And there are parts of you left unfinished. Knowing that the desire to finish is in itself a moot point. Because life is not one clean cut. Walking away is not so simple, I think it is more akin to tearing oneself away. And in the tear, you leave strips of pain behind. Your idealism, faith, and belief that the World is a good and happy place.

I can't expel the truth
It's much more than I thought I could do

-----"Sleep Spent" By Death Cab for Cutie

2010-02-27T23:44:00.003+08:00

My beautiful background picture is gone. I'm not tech-savvy enough to fix it. But it's okay, I have the real picture in the form of a poster. Unfortunately, it doesn't stick very well onto my wallpaper (no, not the online computer kind, but actual wallpaper). It keeps falling off. So it's neatly folded and kept in a corner.

Just like my artwork. I shouldn't have tried to squeeze every single piece into the tight tube. Now I can't even pull them out cos they are stuck solid. It only lives on in my facebook album. But there are times I wish I could pull out and look through the real thing, feel the carbon smudge my fingers, and recall what it took to draw them. What inspired the images chosen.

I don't think so much these days. I believe it's mostly due to work. Work takes up so much of your time, so much of your thoughts, so much processing to do. Sometimes when I come back, I'm still processing what I've done, what I need to do the next day. Trying to plan a step ahead of my next task, but a new day brings more tasks, and I never get to sit down properly to finish my notes. It's a good thing that I'm never bored though, that I don't count the days towards the end (well I do count about some things during work, still). It's good that there is a huge variety of things to do. Sometimes I even find lunch a little of a roadblock. There really is no purpose trying to extend your lunch or find something useful to do during lunch, when there are important things to be done. Such a far cry from my previous desk jobs, when lunch and getting off work are the two things I look forward to everyday. Some days, I feel like I can't get to work fast enough and finish my tasks within my alloted working hours (because it doesn't make much sense to do overtime, all the time, when one doesn't get compensated so)

The road ahead is completely up to me I suppose. Everyone else is finding their own paths now. I'll have to find mine.

I guess it's been awhile since Melancholy found a time to sit beside me once more. But there are times I catch glimpses of it, like now. Once in awhile, hopelessness does overwhelm. I find I'm too numb to react.

There have been good days, and there are also bad days. I enjoy my good days, gambling with different groups of people, hanging out with the softballers, with the church boys, with the ladies. Even with the relatives I dare say. Sometimes, hanging out and chatting with the colleagues are good too. I wish I knew how to fill pits.

I've gone past that stage. Am no longer in the mood to finish my once-addictive computer games. The ones which truly take me out of this body, out of this world, and for awhile I can feel weightless. But the crash to reality is always a shock I haven't gotten used to. It's been awhile since I've escaped to somewhere.

These days, I detest going home straight after work. Sometimes I feel like staying on awhile more. Or staying to hang out with people. Life at home is quiet, dull, boring. I don't want to face home. I want to stay out in the city, stare out over the cityscape and let the lights distract me for awhile.

This is my last year in school. My last year. I need to... cherish it.

"I think your bruise was understated
Because you can't feel this anymore
It's getting bluer and you can't keep faking
That you can't feel this anymore"

----- "Your Bruise" by Death Cab for Cutie

2010-01-29T22:35:00.004+08:00

Okay this third week has been a hell of a ride. Suddenly things just picked up insane speed over the weekend and everyone's on overdrive. Guess I should have seen it coming when I opened up my email inbox on a late Monday morning, only to realise that I've been summoned to a meeting at 9am on Monday morning the Sunday before. I didn't know cos I didn't check my email. fml.

After said meeting ended (and I apologised profusely for my tardiness), work just came flooding in and hasn't stopped for 5 days. In fact, I finally cleared the last stuff just this Friday evening. But it has been really good, really enriching, very interesting stuff, got to see the thinking behind the big plans, learning what's important, rationales for doing certain things etc, learning how the whole cog of this investment machine works. And today, I finally got to look at the FM files. omg. If we ever thought that Corp Reporting and the forecasting of financial statements was killer (even though its a mere 3 excel worksheets, and 3 segments of P/L, Balance sheet and cashflows), wait till you see the 7-10 worksheets that appear in an FM. And the reams of data that appear. Good gawd.

I actually can't wait to get back to work on Monday, so I can figure this FM thing out and get started on the investment education. And I better brush up on my knowledge of bonds. A few good things about work so far:

1. Minimalist, flexible Big boss who doesn't micro-manage you. Lunch whenever you want, come in whenever you want. Just get your work done. I like that style. Substance over form.

2. Immediate boss who is an ex-investment banker, who even though very busy, still has time to teach/assign me stuff to do. Colleagues who don't look down on interns, is a very good thing.

3. Get to join in for some meetings, see how things work.

4. Temporary office overlooks the Singapore Flyer, ECP and great sea panorama. Nice view babeee! I have shifted back to my lowly cubicle -_-. Still! I got myself a nice big flatscreen monitor (I think 19"), so that I can look at large excel files without squinting my eyeballs out.

5. 2 lunch treats in 3 weeks by colleagues. Yay! But tonight I missed my first, deal-closing celebration dinner because of a split-second wrong choice that I made. FML. No free drinks and food and networking opportunities for me, and I didn't get to spend time with the sister either cos she's not home (when I gave up the former to be more 'family-oriented').

6. I do a different thing everyday. So much so I don't really know how to phrase whatever I do in my resume. I just feel like putting 3 words: bao ka liao. Cos seriously, I bao ka liao, whatever all my many bosses want me to do (which is everybody else since I'm lowest on the foodchain here), I go do.

7. The commute is pissing me off less. Not taking mrt is doing wonders for my stress levels. Public transport rage has been kept at bay. I just sleep on the bus for an hour. It's not ideal, but it's tolerable. Still better than fighting with the other harassed people on the mrt.

8. All the colleagues are above their mid-thirties, which equates to a wealth of experience, which equates to great learning opportunities from everyone. Which also equates to a network of contacts if I impress and do well enough in this internship. Just the other day, my accountant colleague was telling me important stuff about work life. And I also found out she's a pro at excel macros, which, I need to learn. Cos every damn interviewer ask about your abilities with macros whenever I say I am good at excel (only the formulas, not the macros. Yet)

8. My career path... feels like it's going somewhere. I hope the good stuff keeps up, and I like whatever's in store for me. Just too bad the ex-investment banker boss is leaving soon, I hope the replacement continues to teach me stuff.

2010-01-24T01:18:00.003+08:00

Work has started. Things are starting sloowwww. But at least its starting, and my learning curve is pretty comfortable. A little too comfortable, I wish things could speed up abit. But everyone's too busy to teach me sometimes. Nevertheless, I do a new thing almost everyday. And I actually move quite abit in this supposedly desk job, which is good for my health, of cos. Heh. I'm just waiting right now to be able to learn FM. Cos if its what I think it is, then I think it'll be actually quite fun. But whatever it is, the stuff I'm seeing now is pretty damn interesting. And I've had more than one colleague swearing me into confidentiality about work matters lol. But I'm glad to be learning all this content, I could possibly foresee myself in this line in the future.

(just wished things were a little faster)

It's been two weeks exactly. Life has settled into a routine pretty quickly. My body clock has already adjusted, I feel sleepy at 1030pm. And I awake real early in the morning. The brain is skewing towards career now. I've got important responsibilities and paths to plan. Important decisions to make. Sometimes I worry that I'm not following in the footsteps of the crowd. No big name bank on my resume, no big name whatever on my resume. Feels a little precarious. No bank experience. That's the most worrisome part I guess. Then again, I don't see myself headed there. So where am I going?

Where the money is?

There's good money to be made anywhere really, as long as you're darn good at whatever you do. There's always a niche you can carve for yourself. I hope as the weeks turn into months, I'll have my mind broadened further. And maybe I'll find some answers for myself. Although from observation of the colleagues, the efforts required seem very daunting. Ah wells, let's take things as they go I guess. Things will change, life will always change. My goals will change. But I'm thankful at least, some part of my life has a chance to go somewhere.

School feels far away and useless right now. My last semester will be a case of 'reclining in the backseat', with the easiest profs of cos, because I am in serious danger of losing my summa. Just .02 hanging above the balance. I can't get anything less than As next semester I think. Cannot afford another B+. Don't want to work so hard all these years just to falter a little in the last year, and lose the 1st class. That will totally kill me, temporarily. But it will definitely stab if it were to come to that.

I hope 2010 is a good year. So far it has been, I hope life continues like this.

Amaze me World, Surprise me Life.

2010-01-06T23:25:00.004+08:00

Okay I ususally write best when depressed. And I haven't been updating recently too, cos it seems pretty pointless. And mostly I don't have the time lately. There's so many events going on, which is a good thing in its ownself of cos, but it also leaves me less time to 'process'. Hmmm.

Had a great NYE. Had an even better first weekend of the new year. I feel like I've been slapped senseless many times on the cheeks, and I'm only starting to feel the blood rushing red and pink to the surface telling me, dear girl, you're allliiivvveeee!!! Yeah, I'm alive. Feel gawd-damned alive like never before. Not in a long long time.

Makes you wonder how you could've ever doubted yourself and doubted Life in the first place. Makes the 'wise words' of others sound so damnably cliched because it's so damnably true. And realise that even after all this is said and done, God's still joking around with you. Giving you a taste of what can't be. But hell, thanks for letting me know I am still alive. Even though life seems to call halfway across the world, and I'm once more dragged into my American Dream.

I could run and run through the park and plough through winds and stare at the weeping sky and not feel that fire leave. I could run in vain trying to run it off and shake it out but no I don't want to stop or try. I could even have work hang over me like a guillotine and time running out of for sand me, but I'm still walking through yesterdays and nights. Maybe it was less than 24 hours. I'm sure it was. I suppose then it makes every moment that more precious. Most of all, I feel honoured.

I know, as we walk away, that sometimes fate deals you an interesting hand. And you'd be damned if you didn't try to play it. Even if only for one moment.

Thank you for passing through, for sharing this ride. Cos I won't ever forget.

2010-01-02T05:43:00.001+08:00

I wish you didn't had to go back to America so soon.

2009-12-26T03:47:00.002+08:00

Merry christmas everybody!

Okay. Now that I've gotten the obligatory cheery festive greeting out of the way. Let's get down to business. Service today was a bit of a blur. Choir performed one song, which went pretty smoothly and that was a great relief lol. It was insanely crowded cos there was only one service this year. Family came for service, that was quite traumatic. I don't like it when my worlds collide, and I'm not ready to deal with this. Besides, I don't feel it's time yet.

After service, we went to HV to play board games. Had a total blast. Had a great 2nd dinner as well at the bbq. Today was nice =)

In 2 weeks, I've to start my internship. It's one more step closer to 'adult-hood' and career and more responsibilities. These things are unstoppable and impending. Maybe in a few months after more work experience I'll be more prepared for it. Yet, I feel like there are parts of me that are still in baby stages, or even dormant stages, and my life is moving ahead in clunky mismatched bits and pieces. Some stories jumping ahead of others, some ideas not even given birthed and their time is just going to pass.

I can't flip pass the chapters, I'm not meant to be. And to resort to fortune tellers to try that gimmick, just to give yourself some answers, isn't really the way to go. And anyway, I haven't liked any of the future glimpses revealed so far. Nothing seems promising. I can't second-guess life. But it's frustrating to be stuck all the same.

Some things need to be changed around here. Maybe work and its busy-ness would do wonders for me. I definitely would have a lot less time... to think, anyways. The work commute would be killer already. I guess I won't have much left to expend upon aimless thoughts. Or efforts. Then once the internship is done, I'll finally do my food course. Yays. Then it'll be the final (quite lonely since everyone else would've graduated) push to graduation. Then it's Reality with a big capital R. Tough.

I hope 2010 would be a better year. I really hope so.

2009-12-17T02:32:00.003+08:00

I'm back from paris.

It was good to see the aunt and cousin. Good to experience a city via the locals. Great to have met up with the exchange friends as well. Surprisingly I did not overeat. Western food everyday is an overkill, and I began to crave asian food.

People tell me paris is romantic. Maybe it is. Maybe it is even more so in spring or autumn, but winter has its charm too. But I would say europe isn't for me maybe. All these old places, the cobbled stone streets, I hated walking in them cos they were so damn difficult to walk on. I don't know. But the big gleeming cities of the US appeal to me more.

It's more than the architecture of cos, it has a lot to do with the people too. The french suck. Period. Rudest race in the world. But I've had more than my fair share of kindness from New Yorkers. And yes, NYC is still my favourite city in the world. From the employee aboard the aircraft carrier, who felt enough compassion to ask on me, from the comedian in the club who was at the right place at the right time. To the random other americans I had the pleasure to meet in other cities. It makes all the difference.

I had another palm reading done. This time by my aunt who is old, wise and read many palms before. She said many things the other palm reader told me before. I guess this confirms a few things. Not surprised.

I pray that less is really more.

2009-11-20T00:01:00.004+08:00

A part of today was not pleasant. At all.

Last night was important. I had to listen to some things. And it's always good to listen to those before you, who have lived through and through, who have got the years to teach them. It was good to listen last night. Yes, I know I can be very critical. And the person I'm most critical of, is myself. But there are things we can talk and talk and never come to a conclusion. There were 2 camps, and I see both have their merits. But still, it was good to listen.

I would love life to be fair. Who wouldn't? After all... But I guess eventually we must accept the fact that good people die young, that innocent children get terminal illnesses, that the poor did nothing to choose their situation and lastly the underserved get things you don't. That good does not always beget good. That no matter how much you wish for an egalitarian world, that is not something that will happen. Only God, can see your goodness and match it. But regardless, don't let the cruelties of the world cut you down. Or the words of others chip away at the you inside.

Because like what S said, you could only give. And if the world gives back, that is a bonus. The only thing you can count on is what you do. For you are that rock in the ocean. Everything else is transistory, everything else has another mind, another direction, everything else is wishy-washy. You can only count on you, and Him.

There really is nothing simpler.

There are days, times, when I wished the 'wise, sensible' me (like you said) could be traded, given up for something else. What use, life, if you know so much about it but feel so little. I wish I knew what the future portents. But wishes are for nothing. You've just got to ride this wave out, and pray that there are people around you to hold onto, while you're there.

I'm glad for the new people in my life. Glad for the things they have taught me. Tired of the aimlessness of youth, tired of our false beliefs and our illusions. I want to hear the real thing now. And I'm glad I've had a glimpse of what its like to redeem yourself.

But healing doesn't happen in an instant. It's still a start, anyway. Even though, I'm still surprised, angry at the way I react, angry about how things can make me feel. I even had a little trouble concentrating today. Ah wells, I never saw that coming. But take heart, for it will be finally. It will be finally.

And the hardest part
Was letting go not taking part

-------- Coldplay, "The Hardest Part"

2009-11-18T01:53:00.002+08:00

There are days when you feel like life is going to be JUST great. And it does feel great.

Then there are also days when you feel like there is a growing mound of evidence that seems to point otherwise. Like there's something seriously, mysteriously wrong, and you're just not sure where you went wrong. Or if there's something wrong with you and what you do. I don't understand. Is it just plain bad luck? Is it my way of doing things, is it just me? Why.

I don't know. But its really demoralising, makes you question your self-worth.

2009-11-15T23:43:00.005+08:00

I don't have that much to update actually. I just felt like writing.

Actually, I do have some stuff to update, now that I think about it.

It has been a while, my mind has felt different... for a while. I'm not sure if its the new cell group, I think its a combination of many things. Most importantly, time. Wait, maybe not time. Time has proven that it can be a drag. Literally. No, it is events that have moved me into a different place, a more.. pleasant place.

Last night it dawned upon me that I am much older than I am. I realised that I actually feel old, out of touch, with the new team mates I have. I can feel our age gap. Even though it is a mere 3 years. I can actually feel it. We are so very different, different people. And I find myself gravitating to those who I see a semblance of me inside.

Then later I went to j o's housewarming. And find myself surrounded by people who are mostly over 30, and I find myself having real conversations with them. Proper ones. The kind of deeper conversations that makes life so meaningful. So.. real. Is it not surprising then, that whenever there are gatherings such as these, I tend to gravitate to those with the most experience, cos I find that they have something to teach me.

But there are also times that I want to be silly, just be stupid and childish. Just maybe not all the time. And of cos, it has to be with the right people. I miss spontaneouity. I miss leaving the house at a moment's notice, in the aftermath of a phone call. Just grab the necessary and step out into the world. I've been trying to be spontaneous with people. But everyone has schedules, everyone has got exams. Everything must be planned in advance, its utterly boring and totally not very exciting.

When I go to watch movies on my own, people cannot believe it. When I go to bars on my own just for the music, people can't believe it either. Are we that... socially insecure, that we must always 'hang out' with people in public in order to feel validated/popular. We can't be caught hanging out alone. That's too loser? Can we just hang out by ourselves and be okay? Sure it might be less fun, but its rather than no fun at all staying at home cos you can't find people to hang out with.

Or maybe, I'm just not that popular enough to find those people to hang out with. Heh.

Once a friend remarked that I was, "weird". I made some nonsensical, ill-thought-of, lame comeback. On hindsight, I should've said I'm not weird, just different.

I had a very good time last night. And I've been meeting a lot of new people lately. People who tell me different things, come from different areas of life, of all ages. It's good, the more variation the better. I like it to be colourful. She said, that I've gone through more than most people my age. She said that I am all the better for it. Sometimes, I wish I was less.. experienced, more ... normal. I wished I had the normal paths, go through the normal stages. Instead of this, this teacher called Absence.

But regardless, tomorrow is a good day. Yes I have an exam, but fuck it. 2nd last term in school, I realised that my grades count for nothing. Just as knowledge COUNTS FOR NOTHING, if you cannot use it. Learning about life, is nothing compared to actually living it. I have an exam tomorrow, and after 3 plus years, I know it means nothing. Getting that gpa of mine, working so damn hard for so damn long. And going through the formal channels, trying to find internships the 'right' way... has given me nothing. Nothing. Just as how doing the 'right' thing has fucked up my life more than once.

I'm done with 'doing the right thing'. Now on, I'll do what my heart tells me. Fuck rules.

And I've gotten my internship. Guess how. The 'unethical way'. Pulled the parents' strings, and all it took was a phone call and all that was needed to connect me to a big shot, who could get me somewhere. And now I have this internship, this really awesome opportunity, in an environment, a job scope and an industry that I couldn't have asked for more. It's the best job scope I've seen so far for me. And I am really excited. I did it the way how things in the real world works. By doing whatever it takes to get you where you want to, regardless of rules and conventions.

Fuck rules.

Next year seems promising. I've decided as well, to finally seriously explore this food thing. Maybe in the summer I'll go to cooking school. And then one last term in school, a very relaxed term it'll be. And then I'm done with school. And what next? I don't know.

This year was... is... gut-wrenching. Still feels abit so. But I'm bereft of expectations now. Whatever happens, will happen. Whatever comes, I'll take it and work from there. I'll close my eyes and world, you'll surprise me. It's an odd position to be. Like neither here nor there. Neither happy or sad. Just... being. Of cos, there's a black past that doesn't want to be revisited. That has been blocked out of mind. I can't describe it. I loathe to think of it. It's something that hurts so... I don't have words. I have nothing to say, really. I am tired, and maybe this is finally. Maybe this is finally.

It's good to breathe easier now. I'll still thrive, and I'll still keep on searching for the things that make me happy. Say yes to everything that people ask, offer, give. Nothing, everything could be possible. And remember, fuck those rules. They have hurt you. All the people who really made it, broke out of their rules. Just go do whatever you want then.

Whatever I want.

2009-10-30T23:38:00.003+08:00

"It's not your fault."

The past few weeks I've been going to this new cell group. I like it. We've been talking about things that are very introspective, and quite illuminating as well. There are smart people in there and they pique my curiousity. I find myself gravitating to the oldest people in the hopes of learning something from them. I don't like making mistakes, that I know. And I want to find out people's views about how to live.

I think I would have crashed a long time ago if not for Levis.

Things are crumbling now. Some very important things are not working out. In fact, things look really bad at this point. And as we hurtle forward I'm scared I'm headed for the F word once again. But somehow I seem to be in denial at this point, or maybe it's not so much denial but more akin to feeling stoned. Like seriously, I couldn't care less right now. It has come to the point whereby I'll just walk away. Less is better.

Nevermind. That's why you need to be grounded. There's something intrinsic inside that should never be compromised. You are your greatest asset. Go sit by the feet of the sagely and learn. Go seek the company of the wise and reflect.

Softball is getting more fun =) We actually played a bit of frisbee today!

If I could just prolong my moments of sports, I think, I would be just fine. I think it's strange, sometimes, when you're standing on ground and the walls and mountains are falling all around you. Somehow.. I don't feel so bad. It's like... yea circumstances suck, yea the environment sucks, but hey, I'm still here and I know I'll do great. With or without. One day.

My writing is getting worse. Or maybe it's just this blog and its irrevelancy. Funny how the greatest parts of you are unseen.

2009-10-28T00:56:00.002+08:00

Phew. *wipes sweat off forehead*

Sometimes, I feel better even though I'm supposed to feel worse. Strange heh. But I guess not so strange after all, when you've laid your cards out on the table and it's just time to sit back and relax, watch the unfolding drama/comedy/tragedy/massive self-joke.

Punches are numb already. It's like in New York, when you're whittled down to the barest of threads and you know you've got nothing left to lose. And you decide to go out into the world and f*ck care whatever happens, you would do whatever. Just because. You could, and you did.

For that reason alone, NYC has a special place in my heart.

"If life fucks up, go do something crazy. Two fucks sometimes make one right."

2009-10-21T23:54:00.002+08:00

Today I learnt a calming exercise in my new time-based cell group. There is a seemingly wise old dame in my group, I hope I can learn much from her, and the rest of the people too.

I nearly had a heart attack today as well. This episode better not repeat itself. Or at least, that kind of emotion better not repeat itself. There is a lot of unfinished business. I can't even distinguish between anger or pain or hurt anymore. Everything is one big stomache lurch. Maybe, what I need is to take up kickboxing. Maybe. Or yoga. Or something physically calming.

Softball isn't the answer, it's a social sport, not the kind that brings inner calm. But I'm glad for its presence anyway. Last weekend was good,we won 2nd place although that was kind of expected, since the only competition was the other university and they definitely trained a lot more than we did. I won best batter. I'm not sure if others really performed poorer than I did but I know I did pretty decent for batting. Just too bad for the foul-but-almost-homerun ball. It's been too long since I hit a homer and I miss that feeling. Still, the more accolades I gain from these unimportant aspects of my life, the more I feel the hole.

I'm still abit rattled by the near-heart attack. Going to the library right after in the quiet and presence of friends was calming. I need to lash out somewhere. Somehow.

On a more serious note, I am kind of scared about my internship prospects. So far there has been no reply from the companies I've written to or applied for. I need to keep trying. There is no way in hell that I am going to study next semester. No freaking way.

I am beginning to suspect that during the early formation of my gay identity and socialisation, I mixed too much with the gay men such that there is a disconnect with the lesbian part. As a result I am now
a) lousy with girls socially
b) fantastic with guys socially
c) have the mindsets of gay men (a.k.a. sex is supremely important and youth is also supremely important)

fuck lah.

2009-10-15T01:34:00.003+08:00

I can't sleep. So I'm up.

I've decided not to go to school tomorrow, if my determination holds. See, I'm scared of missing one class. Since that class's TA takes attendance and since this is my last year, my last year of maintaining the 1st class honours gpa. I can't falter. I'm too afraid of failure. But lately I'm sick of this fear, this incessant need to be on my toes and not let an inch. How much could I lose really? If I just fucked up once.

In Las Vegas, I took huge, risky bets to ensure I won't lose my whole capital. Sometimes I even betted my whole capital to gain it all back, plus some. I got lucky, I won. Then another time I played mahjong and lost almost everything, a lot of it since the bets were much bigger than what I was used to. And the consequence was too big for me to realise, I refused to pay. It can't come true. I can't crumble like this. There's too much to lose.

Some things you can't help if you fuck up though.

Today I was studying for my test on organisational behaviour. I think the textbook should be re-labelled as "human behaviour" instead. Because most of what I read started to intrigue me as it could be applied to my own social and real-life experiences. For example, self efficacy means the perception of a person regarding his/her own ability to achieve a task. Those with low self efficacy are so because they have few personal successes upon which to base their confidence. This leads to a vicious cycle.

Actually, I have this cartoon in my head which I thought up once before in a spark of inspiration. I've always had this fantasy of being able to draw, produce and upload it onto youtube (anonymously of cos). My little creation out there in the universe that speaks a human truth. I have everything all thought out. The plot, the characters, the simple but unspoken message that it's trying to drive across, the funny comical parts. It would be a tragicomedy. Kind of like my face sometimes, cute but sad. Ha. Like everything else, it would be a metaphor for something. Too bad I don't have the skills, or the patience and effort to learn to create it. The cartoon would just play out in my head, some kind of bittersweet amusement. The kind whereby you have a joke to share but no one to listen to it at the moment, and you smile inwardly. Or the kind of joke which you know no one will get and will cause some puzzled furrows instead.

Some days you oscillate between wondering if you need or do not need external assistance. Sometimes you wonder if path A or path B is better, and ancedotal accounts tell you that it can "go both ways". It depends. Sometimes you wonder if you should stop "thinking" and start "living". Then reality faces you and it's scary. You dance around the edges and try to make a smooth, discreet entrance into the center of things. And then you throw off all the wrong messages. But when you bumble into things, you might somehow hit the right note and get out your message. However, the end result is always a belly-flop finally. A bit like the cartoon. Then more philosophies like the "self-fulfilling prophecy" idea floods your brain to explain your realities and you're thinking shut the fuck up this isn't getting me anywhere. Thinking, doing, nothing. Zilch. Then someone tells you to have the patience of zen. And then the cycle of thoughts go right back to square one as you question again.

Maybe I'm not meant to find the peace. Maybe this is good restlessness. They also say in the textbooks that a bit of stress is always good. I'm not sure if chronic stress is always good.

There once lived a girl in a dusty small town in Texas. She lives by herself in a house near a hill. Atop that hill is a large rock outcrop where she goes to air her thoughts. She has a good, comfortable, simple life managing a grocery. You could describe it as uneventful. One day some other out-of-state girl comes riding into town on a bike and sweeps her off her feet. She has never felt this way before, and suddenly supposedly asleep eyelids flew upon and she saw Life for the first time. But the other girl did not hang around forever. She walks in and out of the girl's life until finally, once, she stopped calling or coming forever. Stopped talking. She didn't understand. Worse, she had no avenue for contact. And to damn everything to hell, she had no closure. Only left hanging. Like a receiver dangling by its line, the conversation cut abruptly. The caller left.

Inwardly special, but outwardly silent. She decided one day to carve the rock outcrop on the hill in the shape of her lover. In the hopes that one day, as the other girl drives through the Interstate highway, she might see that rock on the hill, that symbol of her devotion and have a change of heart. It's an arduous labour of love. She spents 10 months working on the sculpture. One night she decides to go to the bar, the local newsvine, in hopes of hearing word of her love. She gets it indeed. The news was that it seemed that the other girl had found another man somewhere else and might be settling with him soon. She left the bar deflated, and went to her unfinished rock. There was something inside her, love maybe, but not quite so simple. "Damn it. I'll still finish the work that I've begun anyway". She couldn't explain why she felt this compulsion to finish it. But to give up on her work seemed like some sort of personal betrayal to herself. And so she took three years to finish that sculpture. It is a ten-feet high sculpture and can be viewed from the Interstate highway, some 20 kilometers away. We don't know if her love ever saw her sculpture and came back. We don't know what happened to the girl in the end.

I just know it reminds me of me.

Writing is like sex sometimes. There is a build-up of tension and need, and following the Act, the release and ebb of energy. Gratification. And like sex, the call is pretty hard to ignore. I am up at 2am to write because the thought of writing in my head needed to be fed. And being of the "enjoyment of life" type, I am loathe to deny myself instincts or needs or wants. Want? Then do. Maybe that's why school can be skipped. Because I felt a greater need to write. And as the years go by, my pursuit of grades has seemed like a pointless endeavour anyway. So much for satisfaction. It only gave me bragging rights. It didn't even promise what it was supposed to promise, some path towards a career. One look at my internship prospects and one can see that my grades seem to count for nothing. I feel like tearing up my resume. It's not being acknowledged and deserved.

I feel like tearing up my life resume. It's not being acknowledged and deserved.

In the story, there was mention of only one. In my story, he mentioned few. I look out the dusty window and see the parched earth. No there is none. Or if any, I should be able to see it coming from 50 miles out given that every tree, every blockage has been cleared and the sun is shining brightly out into the land for me. I should be able to see it so clearly that I would fuck it up. Just like when I dislike playing shortstop sometimes because the ball comes too slowly, and I think too much, and then I screw up all over the field. And how I function much better as the third baser, because the ball comes faster and the distance is shorter. And I work best when surprised.

And right now my brain is re-looping to the start of questions again. Maybe I should join this new cell group that is starting. Maybe I need to try something new, some hobby, something different. Something to ... fill. You know beyond a certain age, there is a certain kind of affection that mothers, and siblings and friends cannot give. And even then, teenage angst and cynicism kind of drives familial affection away. Thus leaving space. Some days the space is irrelevant, we have chores to do. Some days the space seems like the only thing that matters. Even all the computer games, and graphic novels and fiction books and movies can't fill out every second and blot out the white. The scenery out there is scary. My perch by the window is scary. Throw your hands up and go into the house. Then someone whispers down your neck that you're making a mistake.

And I hate making mistakes. I think sometimes that the price you pay for mistakes is too much. All too familiar. Sometimes I make calculated errors, some say this is necessary. Sometimes I think it'll backfire. One church member once described me, after some raw prayer session, that when he placed his hand on my back he felt, no he got a vision, that I was like a light that had a cloth draped over it. And it could not shine as bright as it was meant to be because it couldn't shake off the cloth that enshrouded it.

These days I feel like I don't have much to say. I go through the motions and be done with it. Sometimes I try to be a little more sociable. But one wonders what the point is.

The real world is scary. The real you is scary. I can tell you don't like to talk about yourself in that aspect. I saw it in your eyes that sunday I looked across you from the dessert table. I have those same eyes. I get asked those questions. It's like cutlery screeching on porcelain. Unbearable.

The rock sculpture is hidden. But I know it's there all the same. But I know there ain't no driver on the highway changing its mind. Neither should I care. But like the book says, one of the most pointless and frequently given human advice is "don't think about it".

I guess at 230am right now I shall apply two pieces of advice from my thousand-dollar self-help workshop. Accepting the fact that you suck, will help you think less about it. And, oh what the fuck, go for whatever you want anyway.

2009-10-10T00:26:00.003+08:00

I just lost out in two internship applications. I am crushed.

Okay, so I applied for the ones that have like... applicants in the double digits. But sighs... I don't understand why I never get these really good ones. I mean, I'm looking at my resume and honestly I think it's bling bling. And when I think back about my interviews, I kind of get the feel that I did well in them. And public speaking/communicating is supposed to be my ace. So I should be doing well no?

But no.

I don't know why. It is really saddening. These rejections are really painful. Why does it seem like the important things in life are just failing for me. Yeah sure you could say internships aren't important. But they are an important step towards a career, towards knowing what you want in a career. How would I know this certain life path is for me if I don't at least get a 6 month taste of it?

Add to this, a separate note, some other thing I've been working at has blown up quite abruptly. Like wow, I never saw that one coming. Either I must be really doing something wrong or though I can't seem to really figure out why. And upon discovery, I realised that the disappointment pretty much flew over my head. Like okay, not new. *shuffle away*

Life is full of disappointments.

-------

The only things worth looking forward these days are softball and my computer games. Everything else feels like dead ends.

2009-09-26T23:37:00.002+08:00

Separate situations connect and result in amusing conclusions for me.

Today J told me that he got his personality type figured out in some psycho-analysis test. The rigorous kind. Not those online quiz types. And one of the analysis of his personality type was that he would suck at flirting.

On another note, my failures amuse me. The best image really is the one K videoed of me at the bowling center. After throwing the umpteenth gutter ball, I throw my hands up in despair and cover my head in my hands. Great people fuck up too ya? Well, according to my psycho-analysis scores (in of course, a rigorous test), I'm supposed to be great. With people.

Strange.

-----

There must be something to do on a saturday night after I've done my studying and my testing and completing of my computer gaming! What now what now what now.

*maybe I should read the lesbian comic books, or the novels, or bother someone online, or.. play some online game or mull over the past (as it has a tendency to strangle me out of the blue when I'm least suspecting), or ... play music and click the mouse aimlessly.

WHAT NOW

2009-09-26T12:00:00.001+08:00

while you are away
my heart comes undone
slowly unravels
in a ball of yarn
the devil collects it
with a grin
our love
in a ball of yarn

he'll never return it

so when you come back
we'll have to make new love

--- Bjork, "Unravel"

2009-09-23T20:00:00.002+08:00

Signs that you are a stereotype:

1. The astrological lesbian stereotype. Why why whyyyyy do I find myself being attracted to girls who turn out to be LIBRAS?? (the world has many cute girls, why do I keep finding something 'extra' in those born in october). This is nasty business. I am a Leo, according to astro-yoohoos, libras are supposed to be the most compatible star-sign for me. (which actually, come to think of it, the libra personality seems to very attractive) Imagine my horror when I keep discovering that people's birthdays are in OCTOBER! Simi lan.

Hmm. Suspicious life trend here.

2009-09-12T23:06:00.003+08:00

I know what I must do. And this is going to take a lot of will power. And a lot of trust that what I'm doing will ultimately be the better choice. One cannot always have her cake and eat it too. Just as WM has said which has always remained in my head, you have to pay your dues.

Yes, I've got dues to pay. Even though some prices doesn't come from mistakes you consciously make. Life is ugly. And sometimes I wonder why my dad is so bitter about the human condition and people in general. But the more bullshit you experience and the more bullshit you see in human relationships, you realise some things have to give. Or you will be 'gived'.

And either way, you have cast in stone that final carthasis already. It has been done. So don't smile, the alternative is far worse.

Because you were made. Made for better things than this.

2009-09-05T21:27:00.003+08:00

I had a good long talk last week with J. It's been a year since we've caught up (cos we went on seperate exchanges) and it was good to talk once more. Some questions got answered, some more were posed. I love to talk to people who have been there already, instead of always speculating with people like me.

After this and the fortune teller's sayings that I heard on the same day, I feel like I am stuck in a web of inertia. So I know these things, so some things have been brought to my attention, so this is life, going ahead, and the advice I got have all been practical, useful ones.

But truth be told, I would gladly give up many of my blessings. Give up my talents, give up writing, speech, gpa, even art. If I could trade it all for something easier. They say the end is worth everything. Worth all these sufferings. But I don't know. Something inside hurts alot.

I need unfound courage. And I need to be able to trust, again.

----

It pains me that with all God's given intellect, I cannot balance this human equation.

2009-09-04T01:39:00.002+08:00

Some day, in a distant future. Be it years or decades later, it does not matter. I hope you would stumble upon, my words to you.

I shall write again.

2009-09-03T15:08:00.004+08:00

So interesting haha.

On a whim, I decided to consult the palm reader at the school bazaar today. He said a lot of things about my life and aspects of my personality which were like bullseye accurate. Geez! I was quite surprised actually. Here's a list of the things said:

About character/self

1. Very efficient, very chop-chop, I get things done. Bosses won't ever sack me because of inefficiency reasons. True I operate like this.
2. I am very frank. Too frank sometimes and I believe too much in fairness when the real world doesn't work that way. I can also be naive at times. Yeap I am honest to a fault and stupidly naive too.
3. I am multi-talented (duh!) haha okay this has got truths kay. Art, writing, public speech, academics. 'Nuff said.
4. I like to enjoy life a lot. In fact my 'palms' speak about the enjoyment of life, not for making money. Haha that is kind of my attitude
5. I'm highly sexed, and will enjoy sex alot. Hahaha totally agree. Totally. Sometimes I can't imagine how prudish others think/act in comparison. Actually, he repeated that many times throughout the palm reading! lols!
6. It is hard for me to love someone. Yes true, I don't fall in love easily.
7. I have hereditary family problems on the female side with regards to wombs/cysts/fertility stuff. Yes true, these problems run in the family. My mom and aunts all got it.
8. I like control, I like to tell people what to do. Haha yes yes yes. But at the same time, I am hopeless at deciding for myself. YES.

Some thing he got wrong was that I am family-oriented. So not me lols. Which is not good actually, it's good to be family-oriented. Another thing was that I'll get married (to a man), which of cos I promptly corrected him

About future

1. I will migrate one day.
2. Career-wise I thrive in people-environments, working with lots of people, working in large-scale projects. And I love variety in the job. I think he mentioned I might have 2 types of careers and that career path will be smooth sailing. I don't know what to make of this cos i don't know any career path for me!! But I agree with the people aspect.
3. If I'm not working in the arts industry e.g. fashion, media, art, artwork, I will most likely be enjoying life in those high-society parties. Now I can totally see myself in the latter haha.
4. Relationships will be few. That's sad actually, but I was kind of expecting that prediction already. Love is a fucker, seriously.
5. I will marry a non-singaporean hmmm.
6. There will be one woman who will hate me for the rest of my life. Wow. Romance-related apparently.
7. I will live a long life, so long as I take care of my hereditary health problems. Therefore go for PAP smears and all that jazz.
8. If I'm not careful and am too frank with others, I stand to lose my business/career success and/or lover. HMMM.

He said my womb is 'tilted'. I can verify that if I go for a PAP smear. Hmmm, very interesting. lols

2009-09-02T00:15:00.002+08:00

Sometimes it is not that amusing.

Okay I admit, at least it reminds me that I'm normal. But still, it's abit like rubbing salt into the wound. Or rather, waving a banana at a monkey which is stuck in a cage and out of reach. And hungry.

Hmmm. Not too sure.

But it is still a little amusing. I'm not sure. Yes you are really cute. Just like the other one who tried, and whom I was totally unaware of when he did. But I'm not sure I wanna lead you on, even though this is one of the life experiences I need to check off before I perish. I don't know. It is also rather ... mm.. feels like a stab that the same doesn't occur with the actual category that I'm interested in. I'm sure others would want to be in my place, I'm sure you've turned some heads being of the pretty boy variety.

But this is one very confused pie you are trying to dip your fingers in. And I haven't exactly retrieved that axe stuck in my back yet. To top it off, I can't believe the same never happens with the real desires. Whereas I seem to sometimes land myself those top prizes of lucky draws, those kind of prizes that you have no use for but others might.

Maybe I should've been straight. This gay thing doesn't seem to lead anywhere.

2009-08-30T00:14:00.002+08:00

I need to fill my life with doing. There is a lack of doing lately.

Without doing things, you're left to your own devices, and that's pretty scary. In a couple of weeks, I'll have to lead the bible study of emptiness/fulfillment, supposedly the gay theological world. I wonder if being straight might have turned out a different biblical survey result for me. I'm not too sure. But this emptiness thing sure feels very gay. Well on the surface I suppose it is. But of late, I've been psycho-analysing self....[not exactly a very good or useful thing to do, but nonetheless my thoughts have an autonomy of their own]... and the insights have been pretty humbling. Like for example, once you get your ego out of the way, there is alot of clarity when you do actually start thinking about your real perspectives, and what drives them.

It isn't so easy to explain, and there are many things all piled haphazardly all over which I find hard to articulate in a comprehensible way. But I could try. Like for starters, I need to fill my life with doing. Getting an internship would be really good, mentally. Being busy has its benefits. Some days I feel really free, with nothing on my plate to do. But that's not always a good thing, I end up spending too much time thinking. Or I trawl my pile of unread books and bury self in them. Sometimes I think reading distracts people from reality, or at worse, creates unrealistic images. The bookish live in a bubble, and I see my own bubble at times. It's there alright, partly reinforced by some reality and partly created by ideas. But idealism doesn't always turn out to be real for you. Although that's a bitter pill you have to swallow.

I discovered long ago that what makes life really worthy were the human interactions I had. Those are my greatest, clearest and dearest memories. I'm not so sure being an extrovert/people-person is entirely good. Then again I'm not sure if I'm actually an introvert, made extroverted by societal pressure and convention. Why I suspect this is because there are many times, I'd rather go for events by myself than invite anyone to 'accompany me'. If I wanted to do something, I never really feel the need to ask someone else to accompany me blah blah blah, although that would be nice. It is only later after such occurences that I realise maybe it would be good to put in some effort to get company. But then again, the acquiring of company might detract from the allure of the event itself. Like how it is perfectly alright for me to go watch movies on my own. Or maybe that's why I thrived in my month-long US solo trip.

But there were also many times that having people around enriched things. Sometimes when I look back, I realised the things I miss the most, were the conversations. I miss a lot of things really. I miss the times when it felt like you didn't have to worry about judgement, what it feels like to be safe. I miss the times when you cook up silly stories or jokes with others. I miss the 'codes' and 'passwords' and special lingo that can be invented. These things don't come easy, and honestly I don't have many of those instances. Which, I guess, makes me miss them all the more. I miss what comes naturally. The last thing I need is a manufactured ideal, I think.

You're young, they say. [yeah yeah, yada yada] I have one year left. Slightly less. I'm not very involved anymore in school. And after that, I'll be joining the drones of workers. Things will be vastly different when work starts. I know I would be different for example. As a grown-up there are many other things to consider, and responsibilities to handle. I have many more issues to think about, like career advancement for instance. Life gets riskier. Make a mistake and it could be a fatal blow. Bye bye job. I'm not sure if I would give up certain wants for that. Or if I had the guts and capacity to. I'm not sure I'll welcome it. Truth be told, it's scary.

Confidence is a roller-coaster.

2009-08-16T01:35:00.001+08:00

New funny tagline that never fails lol:

From chihuahua to pitbull, when there was a golden retriever in front of her all this while. What the fuck.

2009-08-13T00:56:00.003+08:00

Somehow today feels like it will be the last time. From here on, there will be no more. No more need. Or reason. Today is the end. It's a little bittersweet I guess. Knowing that I had a hand in burying it, had a part in its destruction. He's right I guess, to say that making an attack means risking your queen. Check-mate.

It's end game for me now. End-game for us I guess. I don't see much hope for the future, or any future that is. Things certainly feel different. Like tainted, somehow. Just as how things are not the same last time. I don't know how I'd react in the future, but frankly right now, I can't imagine having to deal with it again. A clean cut would be good perhaps? Maybe.

Maybe some things are better dead. I used to have a friend I could not imagine not having. Maybe as time passes, she would cease to mean anything to me. Even as a friend.

Sad result I think. But it seems we are hurtling towards that outcome. I don't want to expect anything positive, because disappointment is never too far away with things like this. Some days it feels even more regretful, when I remember that WY said that she could've been a friend for life. Cos you just don't come across good friends as you grow older and older. Such people get more and more rare.

But if this is how it'll be then I'll let it be. For I'm done salvaging things that are broken, I think certain things are no longer up to me. Furthermore, the responses to my efforts have kind of left a bad taste in my mouth. Yes, things have certainly changed. I don't feel like I know who I'm really dealing with anymore. They feel different. I'm not sure either, if trying to piece together friendship is even what's best. And just like that, another person walks in and out of your life. Almost as though you never met them.

Feels... so much like a waste of my time in school. Pity.

I thought practice makes things easier. Somehow, things seem to get harder as you grow older. And repeat your past. So much for practice makes perfect.

2009-08-13T00:09:00.003+08:00

I feel more torn as the end of school looms.

I've only got one more year, and after that, everything else is up to me. ME! How scary is that? I've got to figure out my own career path. No more set formula of advancement mandated for you. No more, progress from primary to secondary to junior college to university. Just mug hard and God will take care of the rest. A no-brainer really.

Now I've got to figure out what I really want with my life. What my life is going to look like for the next 40 years. Hell. It's a huge undertaking. And the more I explore the scarier it looks. I don't know how the hell I ended up in business school. How does one knows at age 18 that business is what they want to study? How the hell does one know that investment banking, or accounting, or consulting is their true calling? How do people find pleasure in these..... money-making pursuits? I call it money making because the salaries are huge and it seems to me the only real reason why people pursue these things. Yes, it's also mentally challenging and that has its own satisfactory value as well. But the core of the career itself... how is that fulfilling? How is finding solutions for companies, studying companies, assessing, evaluating companies... a fulfilling job? I just can't find the intrinsic value in it besides the nice 'side-effects' a.k.a. good salary and mental challenge.

If cake-baking was a multi-million career. I swear to God that will be people rushing to take courses in such and doing it not because the rising of dough has its own kind of magic that works on them but it's the money that they are seeing at the end of the line. Yes, true. There are some who really are interested in finance and numbers and abstract concepts, but I think these are the rare few ones. There are some who have started businesses during their growing up years and have tasted entrepreneurship and really developed a passion for it. But what about the rest of us? Who have no 'experience' with business at all until we are plunged into studying for it, cos it seem like the 'right path to go'. Herd mentality.

Are we selling out?

You know I've seen so many stories of that successful investment banker who finally quit his job after 10 years only to start a bakery/work in the food industry. They take on lower pay, more arduous physical labour, because they finally realised what truly gives them job satisfaction. And that all the money in the world, wasn't worth wasting your life away at the 'right career path'.

There are times that I feel like asking these people: If you had a chance to start your career path all over again. Would you still have gone into business as you did, knowing that this isn't what you truly enjoy. I don't know. Maybe these people have earned enough such that they can afford to 'indulge' their hobbies, without worrying about rent or things like that. But what if you're a fresh grad, and you've got parents to take care of, so much money that needs to be made for your future. For things like car, house, vacation. Money to acquire those material things that you're used to right now, begotten from your parents' income which in a couple of years would cease to flow upon retirement.

There are days I wish I was born into a super-rich family. So that I could study what I really want to study, do what I really want to do, without having to worry about money and supporting the family. Because everytime I go into the kitchen, there is just this nagging voice in my head that is trying to tell me something. And that I cannot keep avoiding this nagging voice because the finishing line is drawing closer, and soon I would have to make a choice.

A choice I don't really want to regret.

You see, I've done a few jobs so far. Office jobs, and the SB job. And I can say that the SB job was the one I truly loved. Sure the pay sucked, sure I stood on my feet all day, sure it was physically exhausting. But for the first time I actually look forward to going to work, that everyday was fun. Utterly fun. Even though I was doing the same things on repeat. Somehow, making the same kind of sandwiches never bored me. Seeing cheese melt and the bread crusted to a perfect golden brown never failed to amaze and intrigue me. I never get sick of these things. I never get sick of chopping stuff, of frying garlic, of cooking the same things again. But I get sick of doing math sums, I get sick of studying reports I feel nothing for. But I never get sick of doing what I do in the kitchen, even though I fail sometimes.

That's another thing that's holding me back, giving me doubts. I'm no great cook. Sure, I've had some successes here and there. But they aren't super-spectacular sell-outs. They aren't the kind that would spark a food craze. Then again, I could argue that I've never really devoted enough time to this passion of mine. That maybe perhaps if I put in the same amount of time into drawing, public speaking and other pursuits, I could hone it into an art. I don't know. But right now, I don't feel like I'm good enough at this to carve a niche out of it.

It's funny you know, there are many interests that we have. The 'marketable' interests that I have, such as art and public speaking... have use in the workplace. I like to write essays too, argue logic etc. This craft I've honed through school and it has served me well in scoring the As. But these are just things that I like to do, these are not things that I would wake up in the middle of the night for, these are not things that I would day-dream about, that occupies my thoughts. These things that I merely like, I can be really good at. Excel even.

But they don't mean anything more than that.

Conversely, the things I'm really passionate about. I suck at. The things that keep me up at night, I'm only mediocre, or sometimes an utter failure. Like softball: mediocre. Sure I started learning it pretty late, and naturally so, I'm not very good at compared to those who've done it far longer. I would think about softball everyday in JC. It was the reason why I chose N J and I only came to school for it. Then there is cooking: sub-par. Some successes here and there, but nothing good enough to actually sell. And many of my recipes? Gotten online or learnt from others. The ones I created myself, I would say is above average and certainly is not restaurnt-standard. Well duh. And of cos, women: epic. fail. Why do I bother sometimes I wonder. I have no fate with them.

So I don't know. I am willing to learn. That is definite. I've long considered, and long fantasised about the chance to go to cooking school. To learn, properly, the art of cooking and the science behind it as well. How to wield a knife properly, how to complement flavours etc. Right now I just 'pin gan jue' and cook. I add whatever spice I feel would taste good together. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But I've never really practiced enough at it anyway.

I don't know.

I'm not sure... if I want to be that investment banker who quits her job 10 years down the road because she finally had the courage (and the money) to pursue her passion. Yes I can see myself doing well in the corporate world, I'm not sure if I can see a happy me.

G says to finish my degree first and take it from there. At least you have something to fall back on. Safety nets. It's good to have these things, but I'm not sure this is what makes life worth living. And worse of all, I know I hate to make mistakes, I hate failure, I hate creating situations that cannot be undone. Situations that put me in a worse state than that I began in. I've done it before, and I hated it. And this is a big step to take, I'm not even sure if passion can sustain me. Maybe I would find something to dislike about down the road, when the going gets tough. I've disliked drawing before, when it got tougher. I'm not sure if this is serious enough. I'm not sure if I am marketable enough in this area.

I don't know. I don't know which is a worse regret, or worse mistake. Screwing up my livelihood or selling myself out.

I need a career counsellor. Not the SM U kind. Not a fellow student. But someone who has been there, and done that.

Help.

2009-08-11T01:07:00.002+08:00

Life has been good lately =)

Steak on Saturday was a success. Sure I nearly smoked the entire house cos the oil ran out on a non-stick pan and when this happens, smoke gets created. But I made a damn good, yet damn simple steak sauce. It shall be my secret steak weapon from now on.

On saturday and sunday, I finally learnt the true meaning of worship and I must say I am really thankful that I came for the worship conference. There is definitely a paradigm shift right now and I can say I am truly humbled by what I see. Thank you God.

Popiah making occured today. Great as usual. And I've finished the entire series of Fables. Yays! There are still plenty of stay-at-home entertaintment options yet to be explored yet and school is already threatening to start! eeps.

UP tomorrow. Cheese-tasting and cell tomorrow. So exciting, yay!

-------

My other worries such as buying of textbooks, can go fuck themselves right now. *pleasant smile*

2009-08-05T00:09:00.003+08:00

A metaphor today.

There are many things that define our self-worth. It's different for each person. For myself, art is one of them. To me, art is representative of something deeper within. It's an example of drive. That there is nothing that could stop me if I wanted it bad enough. That I am not someone who gives up. How I came upon my artistic abilities today was due to that drive. In the past, I wanted to draw as well as the artists of my comic books. And so everyday for almost two months, I would spend hours drawing and tracing while staring at the hallowed pages in front of me. And I didn't stop till I could mimick with realism the art in those books. I was eight then.

When the holidays ended, it was the new school year. We had some drawing assignment. Suddenly the teacher was raving about my homework and other students were impressed as well. I remember my primary 5 days as one whereby I was constantly consulted during our so-called art exams (when students should be quiet instead of talking), when the aspiring artist in the prefect (someone with greater social hierarchy than me) would ask my opinion on her art and how to improve. When talent grew from nothing but sheer effort. That there was nothing that I couldn't create within me if I didn't try hard enough.

Art was my self-worth. Because it represented drive.

Fast forward a couple of years, and now Toastmasters and public speech is representative of this drive. That if I work hard enough, nothing, no excellence, is beyond my reach. And the same applied to physical abilities. I would cycle pass the Golden Gate bridge and up that insane hill within the hour even if it kills me. But I would never give in to the difficulty or the pain of the task. Nothing was insermountable, no mountain (literally) was too high. I refused to be defeated in anything I set out to do.

It has been awhile since pencil touched paper for me. At US C, I decided to revisit this oft-neglected ability of mine. Because it still meant something to me. Art was one of those 'attributes', those 'plus points' in the measurement of worth. It was part of the value in me, and I thought that it should be nurtured. So I decided to join the arts class, once more to revisit the fruit that was my labour at age 8.

I've learnt a lot of new things in my class. Firstly, that art can be separated into two categories. One is realism, the other abstraction. Realism was the first kind of art to be created. In the early days, art served the purpose of 'representation'. It was used by teachers, by historians, by explorers to capture the images of new things discovered. They had no cameras then, only the pencil and sketchbook to show others what new plant or animal species they had uncovered through their explorations. The primitives drew images on caves and civilised ancients drew murals depicting ways of life. All as a means of communicating and recording something. So the more realistic the image was to the real thing, the more effective the communication. That is realistic art.

The second type of art flourished after the need for representation was less pertinent. This kind of art is the abstraction that we see today. It's purpose is for 'expression' and no longer mere representation. Abstract art requires more complex thought by the viewer, who has to discern the meaning of the art piece itself as it is not literally communicated.

I don't excel at abstract art, and I find it child's play anyway. Because to me, real talent comes from realism. The ability to create something that leaps out from the page and cannot be defined just by the pencil or charcoal that belies its foundation. Art that is as real as the thing itself. Because anybody can draw three lines and call it abstract art, but not just anybody can draw an animal that needs no caption but yet can be identified.

In my arts class, your talent is a barometer of your grade. And since art is something that is so exceedingly difficult to teach, to improve upon, to impart. That talent became a measure of your worth and your status in class. In my mind, I considered the most realist artists as the best, and with each showing of each others' artwork, a mental hierarchy of the students would form in my head. I would say I stand high up there. Why? Certain things. Like comments made by the professor, and comments by students who were 'lesser' in the talent spectrum, who annoint you with praises. And then there are the fellow museum-goers, themselves clueless about art but stop anyway to look at your work-in-progress, and then glance at the exhibit in question and then gasp and shower praises again. And you know, every other student knows, who's really good at the art and who isn't. Surprisingly, it was the asian girls that had the most talent even though our class was mostly white. I'm not the best, that I do know. But for the business student with no art background, I was satisfied with where I stood.

And so despite the heavy workload of this course, it was the course I most adored because it reaffirmed me. Reaffirmed the value of my drive and what it could create. And so every piece of art was laboured upon, laboured difficultly because I have not drawn a long time but yet it is something you never forget once learnt, like how to ride a bicycle. At times I think I went beyond what I thought was physically possible to achieve with just these few tools - pen, charcoal, eraser. And it made my efforts all the more dear to me.

There have been many who have seen my actual life-sized art from US C and appreciated it. After all, as someone committed to creating realist art, it shouldn't be that difficult to appreciate no? After all, it's not abstract art. I guess it must have been telling. When once, for the first time, there was someone who actually said that she couldn't discern good art from bad. Especially with mine.

It jarred me a little. For it was the first time that someone has seen my art and cannot measure its worth (either good or bad!). To hear this from that person especially, and most incredibly of all that my art could be unfathomable to someone else. Is it possible that something so simple as beauty can fail to be appreciated. Is it possible that one can be blind to the obvious.

Art is intrinsically me. Maybe I should have understood immediately the ramifications, saw quickly the larger picture represented. Maybe somethings cannot, were not, meant to be ever appreciated. Even though to the creator, it is as plain as day.

2009-07-26T01:18:00.002+08:00

I saw 4:48 psychosis today. It was a play written during a time when the playwright was going through severe clinical depression, and she killed herself soon after writing that play. It is telling how Pain is a muse for art. How recognisable. Cos watching that play and hearing those words, reminds me of a time not long ago. Maybe a few months back. During the school holidays. When I saw no way out, and it seemed the only tongue I had were late nights in front of the computer, eyes glazed and fingers furious. Producing only word-vomit on this website and magic on the other secret one. When it seemed the literal writing of pain was its only salve. But to re-read your work again is to cement it. Hurt and all.

I browse through my past today, and it is ugly. Filth really. Hideous that it should never be re-produced, or ever re-read. But something makes me keep going back. Maybe it's how easy the words flowed. Or maybe it's because there is something in there that still strikes a chord within.

I look at myself now, and realised that I have shifted. Moved from that place. Going, judging by the fact that only monotony and mundane recitals is all that I can produce now. Judging by the lack of inspiration. I suppose that is a good thing. That I have shifted from the place of black. I hope it stays that way. I really hope so.

Although in the light of many recent changes and upheavals, it is hard to say. There are no other things more fragile than the mind, and how easily it can be unraveled. All you need is some trigger. And there I would go rushing out into the californian sun, on my bike, blinded by rage I don't understand and recklessness so foolish.

I hope I stay.

2009-07-23T22:47:00.006+08:00

When you spend a substantial amount of time with a group of people, little inside jokes and shared experiences start to gather. And it's in spontaneous moments like these that sometimes make me feel glad to be here. One of these groups of people is my family.

My family... is a funny lot. Firstly, we are grossly indecent. I grew up seeing everyone nude. Baths are taken with the toilet door wide open (usually because when I was younger I was scared that there was a ghost in the toilet). Use of the WC is also always announced by clothes scattered at the threshold of the toilet door, which is of cos, wide open. I see all the womenfolk nude on a daily basis. Thank goodness same can't be said of the man-folk (singular, of cos). Although there were times, when daddy was older, he got a little slower and less discreet in his actions of changing from towel-around-the-waist to boxers. Thankfully I grew up, so my reflexes got abit faster and I was super-quick in spinning the head away so I never ever saw anything.

We also have atrocious habits and conversations. Me and my sister fight alot. Sometimes, we mock-argue for amusement. And oftentimes, we get competitive, and try to out-gross each other by naming the weirdest locations where a pimple can be found. But our bathroom habits are most amusing. Today was one of those funny exchanges. I like to take long number 2s. I have a stack of Reader's Digest magazines parked near the toilet. And anytime I need to go, would be a time to read those magazines. So that means I spend a good 20 minutes in the toilet. However, there is only one 'nice' toilet in the house. So when someone is using it, others have to contend with the lousier toilet. Whenever my sister sees me reaching for the RD magazines, she knows what's going to happen and she will try to out-rush me for the toilet first (in case she needs to go during my 20 minutes). Today she did the same.

"You want to shit?? Lemme go first!!" [rushes to occupy toilet bowl seat]

"Hurry up!!! Or else I'm going to defecate on your lap!" [ bends over to display ass to signify realness of threat]

"Haha! Okok, soon, I'm done" [finishes and proceeds to wash basin to wash hands]

By this time, I'm already on the vacated toilet seat, busy with the business of removing obstacles such as two layers of cloth between my ass and freedom.

"Minute! Minute!" [to indicate me to give her a minute's grace before I let go] ...

"Close the door!" [she wants me to shut the toilet door, or else the stink will get out. Mild wrestling of toilet door ensues. I win, because I don't want to gas myself. She goes to the standing fan right in front of the door and turns it on full blast. That is why we have a standing fan directly facing the toilet door, just as why there is a reason for a shelf bearing a stack of RD magazines near the toilet. Everything in my house has a subtle function, which ignorant visitors won't be privy to. Unless they read this blog.]

- 5 Minutes pass - Despite the efforts of the fan, my sister declares me evil while covering her nose. She screams to nobody in particular to "Run for your lives!". Leaves the room, and turns off the air-conditioning and throws open the windows. It's honestly not that bad, but our family is fond of drama. During this entire toilet situation, I was laughing so hard that I had trouble doing what I needed to do. (cos you know when you laugh your muscles kind of 'suck in', but 'suck in' is the opposite action of what I should do!)

My mother is another source of endless amusement. Ageing people have peculiar toilet habits which die hard. For my mom, it is scalding hot bath water. She can only bathe at the highest water temperature possible. Cold water is her kryptonite. There have been many occasions when I went into the bath right after my mom, unable to see anything cos of the steam in the white toilet. There have also been many other occasions when due to the steam and my complacency, I did not turn the shower temperature nob back to 'normal temperature'. I only discover that I forgot when I turn on the faucet, and the shower head happens to be aimed directly below the waist. And I get the worse most shocking pain in the world 'down there'. There will be a "What the fuck!" from the toilet, signalling another scalding of myself by myself at the worst place possible.

When I was younger, I used to like to play tricks on my mom. Once, I thought it will be terribly funny if I were to give my mom 'cold bath water' one day. So I took many ice cubes out of the fridge and let them melt in a bowl. Then I flung open the toilet door as my mom was still bathing inside, and splashed the ice water down her back. She spun around, and gave me this look of utter betrayal which I will never forget. Never forget because it was the most hilarious thing I had ever seen. Well, it is and still remains the most hilarious thing I've ever seen in my mom. But she didn't agree and was extremely angry at me.

There are many other memories further back in my childhood. This is a sad one. I clearly remembered that the first time I heard a swear word come from my mom's mouth.. was in the toilet. I did something wrong, I can't remember, maybe I splashed her haha, but she called me a 'bloody idiot'. And this time I was the one feeling betrayed. It was the first time I remember feeling not very loved, when a bad word came out instead of the nice, motherly soothing words I was used to. From that moment on, I lost abit of innocence and learnt the art of cursing. Starting with the term 'idiot'. It was like discovering the idea of sex. As monumental as discovering the idea of expressing discontent via cursing.

I also discovered sex sitting on a toilet bowl. That same toilet bowl that I used today. I was nine, doing my number 2 and instead of RD I was reading those ladies magazines, and I wondered how women got pregnant. I knew women were made pregnant by men, although I didn't know exactly how. So I thought of many ways... I formulated many hypothesis, one of which was maybe when a woman sat down on a seat vacated by a man, she could get pregnant. By then! It doesn't make sense! There must be a contact or an exchange of something. Something to trigger the pregnancy. Of cos, I reached this conclusion about an exchange thanks to the Singapore education. A logical deduction derived by my 'problem-solving skills'. I just wasn't sure what exactly the exchange was. As usual the toilet door was wide open, my mom as at the dressing table nearby. I asked her, and surprisingly she told me the answer without hesitation in the most Singaporean way imaginable.

"He put his thing in her shee-shee". I was like ! That makes sense! Plug into a hole. And the second thought was, that must feel good! And so marked the start of horniness.

Many strong childhood memories have to do with toilet and toilet related-things. I remember once, an incident away from the toilet but having to do with toilet-related things nonetheless. It was in the playground. I was... 11? My good guy friend and I were on the see-saw, going up and down in alternate motions. We were having a loud arguement about pregnancy. He says the baby comes out from the asshole. I say no the baby comes out from the shee-shee. He says no cannot, the shee-shee is too small the asshole is bigger. I say I am a girl I know better. Meanwhile, the maids beside us are sniggering to death. I cannot remember who won the arguement. But it was my first encounter with 'patriachy', sort of. The idea that a man thinks that knew better than me. ME!

There are countless other toilet stories. I'm sure other families have a fond little area of life that they all share in laughter about. For my indecent family, laughter and discovery surrounds the toilet bowl. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's sweet and heart-warming, but there are other times that the openness of my family is something of a hindrance. Like.

How the hell am I ever going to get away with a brazilian wax! I will be summoned by all the womenfolk for explanation, of which I'm sure my mother will later try to 'pray for me' while giving my lesbian poster the 'evil eye'. Haha, until then....

2009-07-22T13:40:00.002+08:00

Yesterday I chose the longer road home. Stopped one busstop before my house and took the winding road by the golf range back. I did that in the hopes that I will see those garden frogs again.

Sometimes at night, when it's late and quiet, and the grass are starting to collect dew, these small, pudgy little frogs start appearing. I often see them brazenly plonked in the middle of pathways. Sometimes even blending into the greys of the cement with their camouflage green. I always loved those little frogs because I found them exceptionally cute. They are egg-shaped, and seem so delicate that I want to cup them in my hands.

Last night I decided to try my luck again. Maybe on the way back I will get to see some frogs! I wasn't hoping for much, cos the higher your expectations, the harder it is to take disappointment. If I meet a frog, I'm lucky, I thought. Nevermind if I don't today, cos there will be other times and other walks.

I truly wasn't expecting anything, until I spotted that familiar bulge upon the floor. There it was, a really small one. Maybe a juvenile. Perched on the railings of a drain, so precariously. I squatted near it. And with a steady slow finger, prodded its turgid abdomen. It didn't run or hop away from me. It stayed still, although its abdomen swelled at my touch. Emboldened, I prodded it further, and again. Until it decided to move away.

But this time, it accidentally hopped between the railings of the drain. And with a slow sinking horror, I watch it slide through the grills, little feet gripping at the smooth metal with desperation. Until finally, a sickening plop, squish sound at the bottom of that very deep drain.

Frogs aren't like cats right? They don't have nine lives, they can't right themselves mid-fall. I don't think that frog survived that fall. It was small and the drain had great depth. Worse still, the drain was dry, no water body to break the frog's fall. I stepped back, immensely disappointed with myself, mildly shocked and saddened. All I wanted was to get close to the frog, but I killed it instead. Then I realised that this wasn't the first time.

How does it feel, to go towards the thing you desire. Only to have your advances kill the very thing you love.

2009-07-20T22:22:00.003+08:00

Overprotective and super-kiasu me has decided that in order to heal properly, I will be exiled in the house for at least 1.sthg weeks. There's only so much that can be done within this four walls. Namely, watch TV, read, play the computer, surf the net, eat and sleep. Since computer usage can be quite straining on the eyes, I've taken to watching alot of TV. And one of the shows that I watch religiously these days is The Biggest Loser. Yeah, the weight-loss show featuring fat contestants. There is only one reason I watch that show.

JILLIAN MICHAELS. Omg. She is the super-fit super HOT super muscular super sexy trainer of the black team! omg. I swear, I have a serious major HUGE girl crush on her!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/leslie-goldman/i-interviewed-jillian-mic_b_133611.html

She has a body to die for. Omg. And best of all, she has this super kick-ass attitude. PLUS. From her mannerisms on the show, I am 100% sure she is gayyyy. For sure. She's the kind of tough, strong feminine girl exuding that... kind of 'male strength'?? Not sure how to describe. But I guess T said it the best in the past, such girls are called 'femtch'. A feminine girl with the inner male. So. Hot. omg!

Last time, I used to have a girl crush on another girl like that. The super-tough, muscular, fitness trainer girl. That was when I was working in SB and we had a regular customer by the name of Joanne or Joanna or something. Either way, she was one of Singapore's famous female bodybuilders. And I always kind of thought she was quite hot. With the big biceps but feminine look. Somehow, a strong woman is very VERY sexy. Imagine being the helpless girl and being crushed in their (loving) arms. Awwww... Haha!

Omg, seriously, I have to get out of the house. I am drowning in this girl-crush. Arghhh!!!

Now tell me, doesn't she look a little gay to you? Heee.

2009-07-18T01:18:00.003+08:00

I'm reading this great new book. Got it from one of those indie bookstores in Chicago. (yes, love them american bookstores). It's called The Origin of the World: Science and Fiction of the Vagina.

Yea. VAGINA. You read right, haha.

It's a super cool book. Arguably one of the best books I have ever read. And the surest confirmation is the fact that it is a non-fiction book, the first non-fiction book I have successfully read more than three quarters of (and will definitely finish). I usually have a very short-attention span when it comes to non-fiction. I rarely go beyond a quarter of such books before giving up. Even with books whereby the subject matter is of deep, intrinsic interest to me, such as the book about the history of food. Somehow, the academia gets to me after awhile and I get helplessly bored. Not this book.

Now I thought I knew my subject matter pretty well. But after reading this book, I am completely blown away by how much information there is out there that we don't know of. How much history, science and incredible stories surround that very secret place. Most of the information, being totally cool. Like for example, I now know why the G-spot is called the G spot. (why G? Why not P-spot? P for pleasure spot! *snigger*). When I first saw the book, I was thinking that wells, since I was predisposed to liking women, it was better that I familiarise myself (even more) with important anatomical parts and how they worked. And now I can describe EXACTLY where the G-spot is, in scientific medical terms haha. Cool shit. Haha.

It's a really cool book. And probably very difficult to find as well. I didn't see it sold at the remaining bookstores that I visited in america. Plus it also cost me a bomb. Then again, I was buying a tomb of a book as it is very thick. But trust me, you will breeze through the pages because the writing is very VERY well done. No sexploitation or anything like that. Just very frank, objective relating of facts and sometimes, fiction. It's super cool. Some days I close the book and go, 'wow', I never knew so much about the vagina. I never knew there was so much to know! Haha.

On another note, my mom has finally confronted me about my big-ass lesbian poster that I pasted over my bed wall. It's the biggest poster in the room now (about 7X3"), and it's the same image as the one on this blog. So yea, I wake up (and fall asleep) to the sight of two girls kissing in b/w. Not exactly very subtle imagery and my mom, hinted, in also, not very subtle terms, for its removal. I resolutely refused and she went away, tail between her legs, unsure how to broach this topic once again with her stubbornly lesbian daughter. She says she will pray, haha. I say pray lah pray lah, pray all you want. Knowing that taking down the poster or having it there wouldn't change anything about me. Lol.

Lastly, I've been very pissed lately. Yesterday, when rummaging through the pile of books I brought home from the US, I realised that one very important book was missing from my collection. And it was the lesbian erotica book. You know they always publish those Best lesbian erotica of [insert current year]. I happened to buy one of those 'Best of the best ....' and at a bargain price too. And I realised it is NOT in the bag of books! Which is the only compartment I packed my books in! Which only means one thing: I left the freaking book in the US. KNNBCCBAAIIIII......One fact: it being still expensive to buy, two: it being not available in Singapore. GOOD GOD. I specifically bought that book BECAUSE I knew I'd never ever get to buy books like this in singapore. And it was the ONE book that I was most determined to bring back. I had planned from the start, even before I left for america, that I will get myself one of this books. And now it's GONE. GONE. And I didn't even read a single word of it yet. Strangely, the pain of losing it feels almost on par with losing my cameras (which are infinitely more expensive but don't have such... sentimental and rare acquisition value) I. is. very. UPSET. Was in an absolute fit when I discovered the loss, so much so that I was about to risk post-op healing. RAHH!

Okay. That's all about this post now. Which I noticed is filled with nothing but stuff about lesbians, vagina and sex. Haha. What else is there to be preoccupied with when one is recuperating at home and there is not much else to do.

2009-07-15T16:25:00.002+08:00

Okay. So I've done it. For the first time, things actually happened pretty fast. I set a goal and within weeks, it is achieved. Then again, I didn't realise how quickly the procedure would go, from evaluation to end.

There is no turning back now. Everything is permanent. I can only move onwards from here. To tell you the truth, I was scared shitless. Damn scared. I was practically shaking in the operating theatre. When it's something so precious, there is a large part of me that doesn't want to risk it at all. But now it is done. I am on recovery mode. Everything I do from now on is of utmost importance. I cannot CANNOT risk too much, or be complacent. Extreme care must be taken for the next few months.

Sigh. Wells, at least. For the first time. Oh my gawd!

The change is amazing. Almost, dare I say, like magic.

2009-07-11T23:31:00.003+08:00

Old people seldom speak. That is because old people only speak when they want to.

As I grow older I realise some of my unquestionable, bastions of truth starts to crumble. A lot of them came from politically-correct social conditioning that we all received growing up in good schools and good families. But then I realised that a lot of them were quite unnecessary and some were frankly a pain to endure. And that if we break free of the need to conform to these 'truths', or rules rather, than perhaps we'd all worry a little less because ignorance IS bliss. Well, ignorance meaning disregarding social conformity and peer pressure.

For example, the relationship of people to your self-identity. We grow up striving to be 'good' persons. We want others to think of ourselves as good people. We want them to have 'good' impressions, 'good' thoughts about us. And therefore we try to do things that are good in the eyes of people. Trying hard to 'impress' other people. That was my ideal growing, to be a good person to others so that others would think good of me. These others used to comprise of everyone that I came across. Every single person.

So if I am a good person, a hallmark and proof of being a good person is that people would want to be your friend right? If I am a good person, I should naturally make a good friend and company no? So that was my benchmark of my goodness, if someone sees me as a good person, that person wouldn't mind being my friend. So I strived to be as 'friendly' as possible, to make myself an appealing friend-to-be, and then that would reassure me that I am intrinsically a good person. That was how I measured my goodness, by how much people wouldn't mind being my friend. And for sometime, I actually didn't have anyone I could consider 'enemies'. Everyone I knew was either family or friend. I did my very best not to offend, but to please.

Then I started to realise that not everyone matters in your life. There isn't a need to please and impress every single person. Not everybody needs to be your friend. It is okay if someone you know is not your friend. You can choose.

You can discriminate, if you wish, on the friends you want to have. You can go against the grain of social pressures and not be friendly to everyone if you wish. You can be anti-social if you want to, it is not a crime and you won't die if you're not friends with everyone that you meet. I've broken free of my childhood ideals at times and realise what an uplifting thing it can be. How less burdensome and tedious when I succumb less to social conformity and just did as I pleased. Yes there are now people in my life that I have crossed/offended. In the past, I would agonise and fret over how I should reconcile differences but now I am just contend to ignore. Given that I don't see much value in maintaining a relationship with said person. Yes you can ignore that. Yes you can choose not to say sorry if you genuinely don't want to. Yes it is okay to be 'not good' sometimes, you won't die just because of that.

There are also some people that I don't feel like being friends with. Maybe its because I just feel our frequencies don't match or I don't particularly enjoy our mildly irritating conversations. Yes, there are people I don't want to make an effort towards friendship with. And it's okay to sort of... decline friendships in that manner. It is okay.

As I grow older I realise that when I was younger I was wasteful with time. A lot of time was spent doing things against my own deep, unconscious will, doing things that was expected and pressured into. Some of these things relate to maintaining or striving for relationships that I didn't really care much for. It was pretty much a facade, a pretense. Fake relationships. And I don't like that. Now I've come to the point whereby I'm done doing these silly dances and focusing only on what I really desire, friendships I really want to pursue. Instead of what society cooes to be 'good' social behaviour on my part.

It goes beyond the issue of relationships with people. But to alot of things that are supposed to be good. Caring, courageous, forgiving, generous etc. etc. Yes these are all inherently good things that we should, in all honesty, strive towards. But I think we need to cut oursevles a little slack sometimes and know that falling short of altruistic ideals isn't such a bad thing. It's probably good for our sanity too.

So yes. I know I ain't no mother teresa. And I know it's okay not to try to be one all the time. So therefore, don't beat yourself up too much when you choose to be weak, or unfriendly or selfish or whatever. We're only human after all. And life's too short to fulfill everyone's expectations.

So yea, embrace thy nasty self. I'd rather a person that dares to say "no" but mean every "yes', versus a person who's every single "yes" cannot be differentiated from true desire or lip-service.

2009-07-11T22:53:00.003+08:00

I've been back for over a week. And it appears that I am still caught in a physical slump. I don't know if it's the weather or if it's the state of my room (untouched and dusty for 6 months), but my nose and throat seem to be in a constant state of irritation. Sometimes, an uneasy truce surfaces and I get a few hours, or even a day's reprieve. Then the next moment it all starts again and I'm perplexed as to the source of the sniffling. Like. What singapore-borne irritant is in the air tickling my nose again. And my denials that anything would lead to flu cos I already had flu less than a month before and it's just impossible that I could succumb again so quickly.

Then there is that ever-present lethargy. I went from walking 5-10 miles everyday and being on my legs all the time to sitting down at home 6-7 hours a day. The rest of the time spent lying down. Which is worse haha. And the air! Oh gosh. The singapore air. Hot and heavy with wetness. There are times I feel like I should get out of the house, just to stretch my legs, do something. But the air! The thought of going out there in that air... just repulses me. I came from dry, crisp, light as feather air. Air that was cool, and sometimes breezy but never too chilly and certainly not damp. Air that felt like there was no dirt in it. Singapore air feels like drain water. Sticky and wet with questionable particles. Even though it's probably scientifically correct to say that Singapore is less polluted, somehow it doesn't quite translates that to my sense. And so I feel entrapped by Singapore air in my own house. Too hot and sticky to exit. And so I pace around the living room like a caged lion with drippy nose and scratchy throat.

Then there is that atrocious acne flare-up. It's been really bad and I hope it passes soon and gets better. And then today, I discovered to my horror that I have a problematic tooth, which needs to be fixed as soon as possible. But not after I have dealt with the eye doctor. Urgh. So many chores.

It's been more than a week since I returned. I haven't done much except feel somewhat sickly most days. I don't know why. Running works to keep me afresh for like... a mere half an hour post-workout. And then it's back to the slump. I've stayed home pretty much. Venturing out seems like a real ordeal, or elaborate multi-step task that I dread. Strange, compared to the fact that I had no qualms hopping out of bed every day for the months of May and June to travel. There are many people I am supposed to meet and keep up with, events to attend that I've mentally noted. But I haven't gotten down to all these and I think I would, if only my respitatory system would cooperate.

Some days I can't quite tell if its the pig flu. One hypothesis has me reasoning that I should already have gotten it in DC since that was my most violent flu ever. But if so, it is not possible that I should succumb to another flu so fast since my immunity to flu in general should be running high post-flu. Second hypothesis argues that this second bout is the real pig flu, given by the fact that I succumbed so easily despite my post-flu, naturally-high immunity. Because no one has immunity to pig flu yet and it's almost a given that you will fall ill if you come into contact with the virus. Hmmm. Third hypothesis is that my room has some kind of dust irritant that needs to be flushed out. But flushing out requires packing and cleaning, which will obviously stir up dust first before it can be purged. I am not in a state to do any dusty cleaning at the moment. Since my first attempt a few days back, kind of started this whole problem anyway. Perhaps I need to buy those $30 masks. And then clean.

Besides cleaning, life has other chores for me. I need to get my eyebrows threaded, and somehow, if possible, get back into swimming. The dental and eye appointments. Haircut has been settled. Great. But if I choose not to venture outside, the home is an entertainment system that I can count on. I've got 3 new computer games, a dozen new books of lesbian fiction, the entire collection of Little Britain on DVD and 2 other lesbian movie DVDs. As you can see, there is alot to be accomplished lying down at home.

Even though life is filled with many little things to do here and there, some days I just sit and stone and again the mind starts to wander. And I am alarmed and worried, because honestly, I realised that I do not know. AT ALL. What I want in a career. What kind of job I want to do. In less than a year I will graduate. For the first time, the Singapore government will not be dictating my next step in life, I have to figure it out for myself. And the thought is truly daunting. Because while it seems that a lot of people have already established or know what their general career path is, mine is one big question mark. While I'm preoccupied with the things of the now (getting good grades, having a social life, getting through each day), I realised that the future itself hasn't been worked on. Not enough thought has been given to it. Not enough opportunity has been made to explore it. And if I don't get started soon I am going to be in a pile of shit come graduation. I don't want to wake up every morning for the next decade dreading my job. But when I look back at all the jobs I've had (which is not much), the only one I truly woke up to in anticipation of it.. was the job at SB. Food is relentlessly exciting, but it's not profittable. At least not where I envision myself to be in food. And what good is a business degree if you wish to work in a kitchen. I'm not even sure if that's what I really want.

Thinking about jobs leads me to a scarier discovery: Firstly I don't know what career I want. Secondly, besides career, I realise I don't know what life I want. Am I going to... graduate, go out to work, work work work, take some holidays here and there, go out and 'recreate' or 'socialise', till the day I expire? Where's the dream in that. I feel... purpose-less. As if, my planning faculties are limited to day-by-day timetabling. No goal on the horizon to aim for.

Shit. Life is scary.

2009-07-08T22:07:00.002+08:00

Slowly but surely, I'm getting used to this place again.

Once again, church warms the heart. It is good to be back, to speak with the boys again. Last night I came back for cell after a long long time of not discussing God. And I was reminded again why Levis is so important to me, and how much our discussions is so.... fulfilling. Then laters, it was dim sum supper to catch up.

We were chatting and filling each other in on the events that have occurred separately in our lives the past few months. I told them about my adventures haha, and the reactions were quite amusing lol. Then KW mentioned something which I thought was kind of true. He mentioned that his aunt (also a lesbian), said that for some reason, lesbians tend to jump from relationships to relationships, without much break in between. It made me think for awhile and realise that the stereotype is kind of true. I've seen it happen many times amongst many people. Out of all the couples I know, how many seem to have 'just exited' from one relationship before ending up in their current one. Then I look at my straight female friends and realise how vastly different they seem to operate. Maybe it's a coincidence, maybe not. But still, it disturbs me sometimes when people move so fast, even when their past relationships were of a pretty serious and deep nature. How could that experience cease to mean anything so quickly. I don't know the reasons why. But I could guess one. And I suppose that saying is pretty true after all, that the best way to get over someone is to replace them with someone else. Easy. Rebound I suppose? Possibly, and I've been there to know never to fully believe someone when they say they aren't on rebound. Ha. Yeah right. I'll trust what I see a few months later, then get back to me. Nobody would admit to being on rebound anyways. (even to themselves?)

Hmm I don't know. These things are confusing. And I hope I stay a simpler person. God forbid that I become like this in the future. Jump from one to another. If relationships are nothing but withered down to buses that you hop on and off from. That nobody really is forever and we're here for the time being only. That we can hope that it lasts, but deep down we know that it's bullshit. Maybe the straight people got it right. They have institutionalised love, such that getting out of love is no easy task. Legally and financially. Maybe children forces the monogamy of our parents. Kind of like handcuffing the parents together. Yes, children certainly 'bonds' the family together. Literally. If there's nothing to hold you down, nothing to slow you from your gut reactions, no reason or impetus to reconsider, to try and rebuild, then it's so easy to quit no? Easy come easy go. What is the point?

Yesterday I asked a question in cell: if we know we are not able to discern the mysteries of God for ourselves, what is the point of asking these unanswerable questions that we tackle every Tuesday. And the point was that through questioning we grow and learn from each other. We will probably never arrive at our primary objective: knowing the one true answer. But we still benefit nonetheless. So I guess, what is the point of relationships then. If the purpose is love, but you know these things don't last anyway. What is the point? I guess maybe that's an irrelevant question, when your heart rings your mind gets ignored and rationality goes out the window. And you start doing stupid things, such as pointless pursuits maybe.

It is hard for me to believe that there is inherent beauty in all this, when each times gets worse than the last. And even when I say I'll wear my heart on my sleeve whenever the time comes, I'd be lying if I say I don't dread its coming. I would like to be optimistic, and I have been. But hope doesn't last long when things go awry. So my circle of influence then becomes an inward one. Subordinate those feelings and let your values take charge. Begin with the end in mind. Even if the end is a compromise.

Yes life is larger than this I know. But it's because your life could be so large, so filled with things, that it gets harder to ignore that hole.

2009-07-04T00:14:00.001+08:00

After all that cycling in America. Particularly all over Los Angeles and up/down hilly SF.

I happen to lay a hand on my ass today and was shocked. (!) The texture has improved!! I would describe it as... firmer. A little more resistance to the touch. Haha!

Nice.

2009-07-03T14:54:00.003+08:00

I have returned. *cue dramatic music.*

Hmmm. I suppose now I am somewhat expected to write some airy-fairy blog post about how this exchange was a postive (yes), life-changing (I guess), wonderful more than anyone could ever imagine... kind of experience for me. How sad I am to leave the US (absolutely) and how the world outside Singapore is so so much better and we Singaporeans here should get the hell out asap (I'm not sure).

Hmmm. I don't feel like reflecting much. There isn't that much to reflect on, well I guess there is and I'm being superficial for now. But all I remember distinctly from remainder of the trip was my harried shopping sprees, my solo jaunts across cityscapes, feeling very carefree doing my own thing and feeling very burdened when some hostel-mate wants to hang out with me (yes I am actually anti-social, it is not that hard to believe), amused when I have random conversations with other men (wondering why it is always men and never other women), flustered and annoyed by my material losses and unfinished banking business.

But one thing sure stands out. And that was how, during my one month of solitude... how I never once felt lonely. Never, not even when days would go by and I would not speak to anyone at all. Beyond ordering food and asking for directions. How I never felt the need to meet someone, to have company and how satisfying and calming solitude could be. Yet here in Singapore, where there are so many people that I know, there were times multiplied when I have felt so alone. Friends and family couldn't feel that gap. But there was no gap in America. Or at least for the time being, there were bigger things than the gap.

I miss that feeling. Where everyday, every morning I wake up, I know for sure I have a brand new day ahead of me. A new day full of discovery, and firsts, and surprises and beauty. A new day in a new place and a renewed state of mind. Everything is happening for the first time, and even mistakes facilitate serendipity. There are times I took wrong turns, only to witness something beautiful, bump into a random event, stumble upon an awesome awesome live music venue. There are times when I felt immediately that I have made a wrong choice once it was done, only to change my mind later when I see where chance has brought me.

The last day as I was walking through Union Square in SF. Seeing the international flags wave from their high posts, and the statue loom over me, and the skyscrapers around, it was surreal, knowing that this. THIS. is my last day in america. Six months have passed but I have not felt their passing. I feared more at the start than I should. I was worried about whether I could survive, handle, surmount the challenges that awaited me. I guess I was paranoid. Because for what it's worth, this was worth it. Sure I've lost alot of money through losing my stuff, making stupid choices, but somewhere along the way I guess a price must be paid for my lessons learnt. And so I don't, try not to, regret. Certain things.

Did I learn more about myself? I suppose so. Did I improve as a person? I am not sure what type of improvement really matters. More streetwise or independent? Duh. Everyone gets that. A better character? I don't know. More confidence, more direction? It's a question mark. I'm not sure that I have grown, in the places that truly mattered. Have I returned refreshed from my holiday or more burdened? Have I changed. I don't know. Things feel pretty much the same. Even the weather, I am beginning to adapt to. The only thing different is that I have been to America and seen the other side of the world. But what goes beyond that, I'm not sure.

I've returned ... to the prospect of school starting again. Proper school. I've returned to the mundane, idleness of Singapore life, to the old places I've already been to, to old familiar things I do not really need to repeat, to chores and errands, to normality. It is depressing. And I feel trapped. Sometimes, literally by the heat. In the US, walking outdoors was a beautiful, gentle, comfortable affair. I could walk on and on and never feel like I left an airconditioned room or exerted myself. The possibilities were endless and always fresh always new. Now everything feels old and dated to me here. Perhaps I need to rediscover my country again. Rediscover its peoples.

But I don't know. Some things rarely change, and there is good reason for me not to remember some of those things. But I'm back in Singapore, and there's no more avoiding.

2009-06-17T10:50:00.002+08:00

I've arrived in Chicago. It is freaking windy. The hostel is nice and clean.

In DC, I didn't give a shit what people thought of me. Sneezed when I wanted (cos I had my flu and I shall be sickly!), shook the bed when I felt like it. Sat outside the house without footwear cos I can. Talk shit with the blacks because hey, who gives a shit. Nobody I've met, mattered. Now? I do care a little.

Why?

Cos this hot girl in my hostel room just took off her shirt and I am TRYING my best not to leer/stare/grin in her direction. In fact, I'm hiding my prying eyes behind my laptop trying to be good and informing WY with a blow by blow account of the situation haha. Hey! Nobody warned me that there would actually be hot fellow female travellers! Shit. Lol. Even in my flu-deranged state, some reactions don't change. It's been awhile since I started this solo travel that I saw someone that genuinely turned my head.

Omg. Shit. Her body is awesome. *slaps self*

2009-06-16T06:56:00.002+08:00

I am delirious with sickness. Absolutely. Worse flu in the world. I fear it could be the pig variety. There is a constant flow from my nose. It's insane. And the phelgm is disgusting. It came much earlier than usual, and darker-coloured.

It is only when you're sick that the days are the longest, when every minute of living crawls by and is torture. Today I laid in my small hostel bed, stuck and cramped and feeling really crappy. Went out for a great, refreshing lunch and then back here again. I battle with my nose, every few seconds. I am seriously re-considering my no-medication stance on flus and colds. URGH!

Cannot wait for this to be over.

On the other hand, I am going Chicago tomorrow! Yay I'm going to be out of DC! I don't much like it anyway...

But one thing I realised is how xenophobic we asians can be. A few of my friends have expressed how they don't like black people and want to stay far away from them. Yes, the exchange students from Singapore. But you know what? Surprisingly, the most friendly people I've met are the blacks. Even more, the most friendly people are the blacks from the ghetto. They say hi to you, they say bless you when I sneeze (which I've been doing in copious amounts). The guys have absolutely no qualms about chatting you up (which actually is kind of scary sometimes, I am going to refrain from wearing any shorts or sleeveless clothes cos it's pretty scary at night). Black people are nice. We just got to stop assuming the worse of people the moment they appear in our view.

Another great thing about travel: I don't give a shit what people think of me. Cos everyone I meet now, I probably won't see ever again. So I eat nastily if I feel like. Walk trashily if I feel like. Be my sick self. Thank god for unpretentiousness!

MY BOSE!!! MY BOSEE!!! IT'S KEELING MEEE! *cough*

2009-06-15T08:57:00.002+08:00

I am in DC. I don't like DC actually. It has a screwed up separate bus and train system, atrocious weather, and is insanely expensive. All there is in DC are museums. Plus, major plus, I am sick. Am down with flu. Whether it's the pig variety I don't know. But it sucks to be sick when you're living in a hostel with no privacy. URGH! I feel like a bug-spreader.

----------

Separately.

So now I know for sure I'm gay. Haha. But that for awhile was a good reprieve. I simultaneously want to go back to sg and don't want to go back. Don't want to for bad weather and old habits. Want to for the food and the familiarity. Travel is great but not when you're sick.

Ho-hum.

One thing for sure is that I'll miss out the gay stuff they have out here in the US. All those cards, books, stores, pride parades and festivals. Everything these Americans have that I don't. Everything that I take for granted now, which I can't find back home. Yesterday I walked into DC's iconic gay bookstore, and it is amazing, simply amazing, to walk into a bookstore whereby the subject is all about you. Where every book is actually of relevance and interest to you. Where there is so much fiction to choose from I am stumped because I don't know where to start, where to narrow down my choices. When previously, choice was painfully limited in singapore libraries. I'm trying to collect as much as I can, without weighing down my luggage which I have to lug around on my own. But I bought a great book yesterday and I wish, I WISH we had all these available in Singapore.

Some part of me doesn't want to go back. Cos it feels like time has stalled in this place. And to go back would be to restart the clock again. Somehow that's scary, to go back to where you began from. Knowing that it wasn't a good starting point. That it was aimless to begin with. That it was filled with uncertainties and questions. I've got to go back to that? I can choose, if I would, to will it away. I guess I. Can?

Hmmm. I need a breather.

2009-06-04T12:34:00.004+08:00

SIGH. Tomorrow is my last day in new york. I am missing New York already. Everywhere I go, it just gets better and better. Now I can see why the french exchange student who lives in the City of Romance, Paris, says that NYC is his favourite city. It is like magic. Absolutely pure magic! Beautiful place.

I thought LA had to die for food. And then I discovered this city. Omg. Seriously. I have had so many food epiphanies the past few days. Sometimes, multiple times in a day. Everywhere you walk, there is some famous eatery around the corner, and the food rarely disappoints. I've been eating such good stuff everyday. EVERYDAY. Omg. Yelp is king. It has only failed me once. But other than that, it was spot on. Here's a breakdown of foods I've tried.

The quintessential NYC food groups:

Bagel from Ess- A Bagel shop: Omg. I took one bite. And I paused. And I was humbled, brought to my knees, almost, ALMOST cried. This is a bagel that was impossible. I never knew bagels could taste this good. It was so good it was ridiculous. Like .... I was rendered speechless. The dense chewy, flavourful, aromatic bagel that was pinned with delicious, oily nuts, poppy seeds, pumperknickel and sesame. Paired together with a smooth, rich, creamy, thick raisin-walnut cheese. It was a marriage like no other. Words are failing me now. I am doing a poor job describing how good this bagel is. But, honestly, there is no way I can do it justice. You have to eat this bagel to believe. I've always thought bagel was an okay food. Nothing special. Just bread with cheese. Now I know better. This bagel, has got to rank as one of the top 3 foods I ever ate. Ever.

[to be cont'd]

2009-06-03T13:02:00.002+08:00

I feel like I should start writing again. Like, properly. (How ironic is this last sentence)

Turmoil is always a constant, infallible muse.

On a side note, New York is beginning to grow on me. Every day that I spend here I see the beauty of this city even more, and now I know why people fall in love with this city and why this is a place to fall in love. It just... takes your breath away. Go beyond the tourist places and start exploring the spaces that the locals occupy. And if you see enough, you'd realise there is an endless, heck, limitless number of places to eat really good food, and a million romantic spots, a multitude of urban spots to people-watch. And the sunsets here? Pure magic. At the Hudson river, at the top of a building, in the negative spaces of buildings with the dying light shafting through... It just renders you speechless and humbles you at the same time.

Arguably things started out bad. Like f*ck really. A million things could screw up in your travels, like lost items, missed transits, extra expenditure, feeling of being lost, but I think the worse is when travel companionship screws up. Hell yea. That has got to take the ticket. Arguably, the numero uno worst thing that can happen for a traveller.

I'm glad I'm travelling by myself now. It feels like someone just ripped the plastic bag off my head and I'm breathing again. Time is yours to spend. The days drag themselves longer and you feel every moment consumed by just...you. Walk wherever I want to, talk if I feel like, purchase if I choose to indulge. Money's not a worry (I just realised I got over-paranoid, I actually have more than enough). Time is not a worry (I have all the time in the world, for the first time). People, are no longer a worry. I'm actually pretty happy about the current circumstance. Cos I never realise what utter selfishness feels like. Where every single second of life is focused on self. Oh my... I'm beginning to get addicted to this awesome feeling. It's like.. hmm, what shall I do today? What do I like to eat? What do I like to see? What do I this, I that, I anything. No need to care for opinions or compromises or accomdations. It's great. Solo travel is just GREAT.

I'm going to be thinking. Probably alot. Silence external means screaming internal. But thinking now is good. Living now is good. There will not be (for a long while) another time in my life when I get a chance like this. The chance to be completely, utterly, alone. I could choose to meet friends/new people. But I can also choose to meet myself.

It feels empowering, to toss everything that once you hold dear, out of the window into the blowing winds. To turn your back on the petty worries of yesterday. To walk forth and know that no matter the circumstance, there is an irreducible core at your being, which nothing could ever chip away. That no matter the circumstance, you can subordinate your feelings, and choose your response, and let your values take charge.

Because you were made for greater things than this.

---------

When you lose something, you gain something else. Some days I think all is lost. Maybe what I can't control is lost to me.

But all is not lost, all is never lost. I'm still here. And people could fall by the wayside in your walk in life, but keep on walking, cos all is never lost. You remain. And so I guess it's done. Closed doors. Game over. Another chapter of my life finished. Another past created. Perhaps there isn't a future, for anything small. Should I be sad? Or regret my choices? The things I've said and done.

Nahh. I did everything I wanted to. And if this is what it is, then this is what it'll be. Should I feel remorse for what's gone. I would say, I feel numb. It's not a new feeling. It's not the first time. Externalities don't matter anymore. Selfishness heals, strangely. I'm just waiting now, for me.

What's at the next stage then. I don't know. I never did know better. But right now I'm thinking of what the appropriate perspective should be. How should I see the world now. After another head-dunking near drowning that has got to be way worse than the first.

Hmm. How should I see the world. What now.
Amaze me World, Surprise me Life?

But first, where am I

2009-06-01T13:39:00.002+08:00

Okay so I’ve told her. Yeap, 3 times actually. 3 attempts at a talk. Heart to heart. ‘Friend’ to ‘friend’. I thought honesty would cut it. Emphasis on thought. I guess Will was right, you can’t be too optimistic about things. It could go bad. Well, I guess I over-estimated our friendship and our maturity in that regard. Things are not going well at all.

One and a half weeks of travel. I’ve been bringing them around. Plainly, you’re ignoring me. I guess I should’ve seen it coming. I thought things were going fine at Disney. Maybe too good, I was a little too close I guess. Couldn’t help it. Shouldn’t have allowed. But I ain’t going to hide anymore. Like I said, if it shows it shows, there’s no more holding back this heart. I dislike being secretive anyway, it never did my mind any good. No more prisons for feelings anymore, I’ll wear my heart on my sleeve.

I guess sometimes you pay the price for honesty, or there are consequences you must endure for being true to yourself. Not all are pleasant, but the trying ones are your growing pains. I’m trying now, God, to figure out Your lesson in this. This period of distance, when my friend is awkward with me and she cannot help it. Well, I feel that she could, but what I feel doesn’t change reality anyway. The distance and the cold are still there. And New York will feel rather cold for me, even though it’s now spring. I wish I could see the point in being honest this time. Do I feel better now that the bag has spilled its beans, now that my cards are laid out on the table? In a way, yes. I feel freer, I don’t have to pretend that there’s nothing in the air when it’s pregnant with longing. I don’t have to pretend that all I am and all I could be is a friend to you.

There is nothing to hide really. I shouldn’t have hid it from the start. Or maybe things were meant to be this way. I know once we reach New York, she would go running towards her friends. Duh. And that’s something that I’ll have to deal with, in my own way.

I’m someone who cannot stand failure, who cannot stand loss. I’m someone who would always try to gurantee a win, who doesn’t believe that she deserves any less fate than victory. Thus far, God has been blessing me, and I have rarely failed in anything that I do. Except this I guess.

What would I trade? For companionship and love, instead of the baubbles and accolades that I have. So much for money, for glory, for pleasure. What are these things when you don’t have someone to share it with.

I remember the Bible verse that SJ showed me. Yes, God, I remember that I do not have to worry for tomorrow cos You will provide. That in time, things would come through for me. But I don’t know I guess, I don’t really know. The future looks blank ahead of me. I want to be excited about it but I’m fearful as well. In some ways I’m afraid of going back to Singapore, because familiarity brings you back to past demons. They are waiting under my bed, and I loathe to return to those hauntings.

Lord, it is not easy. Each day is a real test of choice and tolerance. Sometimes, I cannot stand it. Cannot stand the fact that I’m non-existent. I’ve to keep reminding myself that I choose my response. Yes, I have to choose my response. Can’t just let those irrational feelings wash over. I’ve been trying to make things go back to normal, trying to be like friends again. But I’m just bumping against a wall every time. I know I must do things with the end in mind. And I want that end to be a positive lasting friendship out of this mess. However, my feelings are interfering, and the other isn’t cooperating. I can’t seem to rebuild this house, now that I realized it’s really made out of cards. Not as strong as I hoped for. I thought this friendship could withstand this disaster. I’m not sure. Yet.

Yes it is tough, yes it is trying, yes I’m the only one who feels this the most. But there must be a point to all this. I’m not sure if I’ve done all the right things and made all the right moves so far. It’s hard to tell. And I loathe to have to regret my choices. But whatever the case, here I am now and this is the present reality. I can’t turn back time, and I’ve got choices to make, responses to invoke. And I know that what doesn’t kill me would make me stronger. This is torture but it’s not going to kill me, and I’ll just have to figure out how I’m going to handle this. Talking to walls is not helping. I shall not force the future that I envision. I will let it come to me, if it will. I will try to get used to traveling alone, slowly, through this new … ostracism? It’s almost like semi-solo travel right now. You’re with people, but it’s not the same. It’s like being alone in a crowded room.

Remember you choose your response. And I must remember that I paid almost 20000 to enjoy this country. And I must reap from every moment that I spend here. Every moment counts. Every moment of breathe. Look around you, for you only have 14 days here. Look around you, for you won’t see this again in the next 10 years. Look around you, because these are scenes from sublime movies that have captured your imagination. Look around you, because this is only for your eyes. Everything else is secondary. Subordinate those feelings, hold onto those impulses and let your values take charge. Choose your response. And girl, take a deep breathe. For you are beautiful and magnificent. You have tried your best, and your best is what God calls for in you. I have sent a dozen invitations to treat. Genuine they may be, but they have gone unanswered. And so I take a bow and return to my seat. My tries are finished; I see the folly of my ways. Trying this often within a short time is not fulfilling, neither is it effective. I bid my time and refrain. Patience is a virtue I sorely lack, and it’s teaching me a painful lesson now. But futility is the correction mark and I’ll stay patient then. I’ve made my moves on the chess board, and now I shall wait. For friendship takes 2 hands to clap anyway. And I can’t force friendship on anyone.

-----

And omfg, I just realised I've been accidentally posting stuff like these on my US C film class blog accidentally.
Oh
My
Gawd.

Can I just crawl and die somewhere now? Oh gosh. I pray I never bump into any of my film classmates. EVER AGAIN.

2009-05-10T10:41:00.004+08:00

Last Thursday I went to church.

It feels... like the weight of two years have lifted. I felt for the first time I could smile at myself. Is this what it feels like to be free once more. Maybe not totally. I know there are some unfinished words I have yet to speak. Which I will say, since they were meant to have been said months, years ago. If saying would give me closure. If telling you is what I need to do. If being true to myself is more important than whether you would stay around. Then I can't wait for Tuesday to come faster.

I don't know how I could put into words. Thoughts that have swirled and lingered for so long in my head. Conversations I imagine and practice only to myself. Images I've played. Words I've rehearsed. Feelings I've expressed. I guess one night is enough. To say all of it. But whether you could feel the depth and understand the breadth of it all, I don't know. But I'll try. God has given me my green light and shown me the red one at the end.

Last Thursday I saw the folly of my ways. Of being stubborn, headstrong, of trying to be independent. Trying to be superwoman. Trying to do the 'right' thing. Trying to be self-righteous really, when all I needed to be was to have been genuine and honest. Someone once told me, and I remember it clearly. That the love you feel for someone, no matter the circumstance, no matter the way it's treatment by them, is pure and genunine and real. And nothing could take that away. And so don't regret your love. For it came from you, pure and genuine and true.

But all I've seen of this love is nothing but spite and pain and hurt and oppression. That's what I saw of this feeling, I called it entrapment. Hated the fact that I loved. But couldn't stop loving anyway and tried to hate you instead. How I've mistreated this love. How I should not have acted. I guess it's time to make amends, and in so doing, set you and me free. I guess if you love hard enough, there will be nothing else left to give but love.

Some things were not meant to stay in dark covers, or be kept in bottled containers, or opaque hearts. I was never good at hiding to begin with. We were not made to behave this way. Love is a verb, not a feeling. And because too often I call it a 'feeling', I mistake that love is about me. How selfish could I be. To keep it about me. I would love you, because I was meant to release it this way. And I've tried a million things to keep this love away, and suppress it as a feeling, not knowing that the only closure I would get is in loving you. Doesn't matter what happens. Some things are in God's hands and God's hands only. At this point, I don't expect anything, really. There is no more to expect. What else could I demand? I've seen it all, all the worse that could happen. There's no more want, no more need, only the desire to let it all go. I don't want to hold on secretly to this love anymore. I want to give it the treatment it deserves. Because it's pure and genuine and true, and I should be proud of it. Because it came from me.

The only regret I have... is in not doing this earlier. To complicate my heart with morals of the mind. When really, it's all so simple. God makes things simple, if you just listen to that still small voice, let Him show you the path, and He will choose your correct outcomes. I would do the 'right' thing, if I listened to my heart more. And I don't want Your 'acceptable' will. I want Your perfect will for me.

And if this love ain't returned, this is Your perfect will. But at least I know, that You have brought me to the water, and bid my head to dip and drink. And the lesson that You teach me, is the waters that I will taste. For a long time I question what is Your plan for me in this. What is the value, the lesson.

Last Thursday I realised I was too small to jump the gun, to find out the lesson before it was due. I tried to be smart and figure it out. I thought too smugly that I was clever enough to discern. I've always believed in learning in the mistakes of others, so that I myself would never falter. Failure was never an option, I don't allow myself to do wrong. Last Thursday I realised that there is no shortcut to growth. That no point can be sharpened without repeated lashings of a blade. That no person grows wiser without pain. Last Thursday I saw the point of this long long lesson. And once again, I thank You God, for showing me the way. Just like you did when I was 17. My trial by fire.

You don't grow. Without feeling pain. And you were a painful lesson to me. But for the first time Last Thursday, I felt like I was walking lighter. And I can honestly say, that there's a smile right now. If love is what you discern from my eyes or my actions, it's because it was meant to be. Always meant to be.

Love is a verb, not a feeling. And whatever the plan is, I want Your perfect will for me. Not second-best, not convenient, not what-I-want, but what is right and true and meaningful in Your eyes Lord. I want Your perfect will for me. And I lay my love in Your hands.

2009-05-06T15:29:00.000+08:00

I felt really sad last night.

2009-04-18T14:09:00.003+08:00

It's strange.

A different surrounding suppresses certain pressures. For awhile you were enraptured by a new bubble. What could possibly go wrong in a land so new. Funny how yourself manages to find its own way back. Triggers. Engrams, that's what the scientologists call it. And you find yourself imploding. All it takes is a spark. Suddenly it's all aflame, and you look at your hands and question who is this. Surprise. The clown has sprung the box. The joke's on you but you don't get it. The world is laughing at, not with.

You pace around the room like a hamster trapped in its spinning wheel. There's no where else to go and the living room is cramped, crowded, small. Claustrophobic. A metaphor of your mental space. First you can't believe. Second, you don't understand. Third, you look at yourself and realise with horrow what's happening. And you can't stop it. Why. The scream creeps up but there is no sound. The pressure behind the eyes are building and why why are they wet again. There's no reason.

As if you need further prove. Chemicals get induced, your aches start again. The familiar rumble in the stomache begins, and you know. For sure. This time, the hurt is self-induced. There is no air in this room. The windows are shut. Everything is green around here. The carpets, the furniture. Your laptop offers no comfort. I need a breather.

Put on a jacket. Grab the neccesities and I take my bike down nowhere lane. I don't know where I'm going. I just need to clear this head. And go and go and go. I'm running away. Literally. I lost track of time. I was tempted to check the watch. But I realise what I'm doing all this while. All this 'calculating', 'practicality', 'sense', 'caution', all these checks and balances. What have you got me so far? No. Life's too short to do the same thing. I will do it differently if I can. I will not look at time. Tomorrow will figure itself out. If the tires burst on this rocky gravel, if the sky gets dark, if I meet a mugger. I will figure it out as it comes. Life's too short for plan Bs and Cs and contingencies. I don't have a plan now anyway.

I've gone to a few places today. Lay atop a wall in beverly hills. Spent. And somehow the trees are pretty when viewed from below. Being still is calming. And I'm thinking, I need a conversation with God.

I need a conversation with God.

2009-04-16T15:08:00.002+08:00

Why are things so hard? Do harder things make us appreciate them more? Do we take easy things for granted?

Some things seem to be more trouble than they are worth. Or is that another consolation prize for the loser mentality.

Solitude makes you think. Sometimes it does the opposite and I space out instead. Or I start humming to myself or singing songs. But it's just you and me in my head talking. Trying to figure out life's mysteries and amusingly noticing things I never ever took a good look at.

June is my month of solitude. I wonder what the possibilities are. When you'll be out of physical contact from everyone you know. Scary? In some ways. Exciting? More like 'concerned'. Want to turn back? Tempted, but I know I'll regret my choice. This is probably, one of the few chances I get to spend my life in a different, removed enviroment. Here's your chance to do something very different. Here's your experience. Don't cop out on it. Like many others who have gone before you said, solo travel was one of the best decisions they ever made. Anyways I think I would take quite well to solo travelling. Solitude seems to be a fitting, apt circumstance, despite being social all the time. From my travel experience, if I ever meet someone whom I can travel with for a prolonged period of time and not get annoyed at them. That would be the one. Lol.

On a tangential note, I am mastering my 'seasoned', jaded, seen-it-all, local resident 'look'. I've also got my 'local' drab outfit all sorted. Mugging prevention 101.

Every time you fail, you die a little inside.

-----------

Amaze me, World. Surprise me, Life.
But then again, no one owes me these things.
Earn it? Possibly. I'm trying.
Winner's attitude? I'm also trying.
Philosophies serve only confusion, and I haven't made up my mind.
Meanwhile.

2009-04-09T09:11:00.003+08:00

I wonder how I'm going to readjust back to Singapore life. I'm so used to things here.

The weather, cooking my own meals, all sorts of coloured people around me (how am I going to get used to cookie cutter copies of my race when I get back), sharing an apartment, travelling, not taking public transport, cycling everyday, creating art, spending 40% of my time on travel websites...

There will be a whole month when I'm trooping about the US on my own. Cool, I hope I'd be safe heh. But one thing I notice when you're all alone and travelling, is that the chances of you bumping into random conversations is higher. Which makes for an interesting evening.

I'm talking bs. And I realised this place hasn't been updated in awhile.

2009-04-09T09:08:00.001+08:00

I can't help myself, I'm in love
And when I get back from outer space
I'm gonna punch him in his face
If he's the moon, then I'm eclipsed
I'm so lunar yeah when I get to him
I'll run him over with my rocket ship

My eyeliner runs in constellations for you dear
If only I could reboot my mechanical heart
I'd think clear

Baby I'm feeling so out of this world
Baby with you I'm a different girl
Oh-oh-oh, You're my future love
Baby could we make a home in the stars
Baby somewhere in the galaxy far
Oh-oh-oh, you're my future love

-- "Future Love", Lady Gaga

2009-03-01T17:22:00.003+08:00

There's been alot going on lately.

I've done quite a few things, met a few new people. It's funny how in a span of 2 weeks, so many things seem to have occured. There are times I cannot remember what I did 2 or 3 days ago because there are just so many things to keep track of.

For one, the bank account is steadily diminishing. I have a detailed excel sheet of my expenses, with the remaining funds in large bold numbers at the top of the sheet. Everytime I make an entry, it decreases. It has been decreasing faster than I anticipate. The camera purchase, my trip to Death Valley fees, the themepark ticket fees, a whole host of eating out at restaurant events etc etc. And some part of me still holds onto the hope of going back to Hawaii during the April study break or after semester.

I've met R twice. And he has really pickled my brain. The things he say... about me. And ways of thinking, ways of changing. I've never really heard a perspective like this. Then again, I don't usually tell enough for people to offer a perspective. He knew, uncannily accurate. Without my telling. Maybe it's a skill that comes with experience, and with knowing enough, and knowing people. It leaves me in limbo.

What do I do now. He teaches me to know. But. Yeah, you could show me the door but whether I walk through that door is another story. I have been thinking alot about what he says.

To move a mountain is difficult. To change perceptions and self-identity is difficult. Everytime I'm faced with another situation, I stop and remember what he said and boy, is it tough to change what I'm thinking. Right now.

I feel confused.

The Group tells me one thing. R turns around and tells me another, from personal experience. And now I face yous, and the warnings of the Group tells me forget it. But I can't deny what's possible.

And when I make things impossible, it has fulfilled the prophecy I foretold to myself. Sounds like an old record, isn't it?

Many times, we like to think we live in fairy tales. That everything will work out in the end, that everyone will have a happily ever after. As if God or anyone else owed us this happily ever after. But we forgot the tedious realities of the world. That things don't magically fall into your lap. That hard work is what it took for people to succeed. And hard work is what's needed for your own success. That there's no such thing as serendipity, but only created opportunities. That there's no such thing as coincidence but carefully orchestrated moves. And the reasons for 'misfortune' can be easily explained by one's own desposition. Why are you confused by your state, when you know perfectly well, what you've been doing, thinking.

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I've been doing many things. But now the novelty of being in LA has kind of worn off. There are times that I still feel astounded by this expanse of land, by these different places that I'm seeing. I've gone to theme parks, strip clubs (yes I have), walked through the most dangerous street in the middle of the night, pushed my boundaries. For a long while, you were living outside yourself, taking in the sights. Now you're living back in your head, more and more frequently. And I don't know what's going to happen when I come back to Singapore. If anything would change.

There is someone I was looking forward to meet tomorrow. But the meal has been cancelled. And I'm highly disappointed. More poignantly, it brought back a flood of familiarity. And I'm hearing R's words again.

2009-02-20T16:41:00.002+08:00

Some days I wish I had the answer.

Is there a point in searching for the answer to the exam that you took a semester ago. The grades don't matter anymore. Even if you get it right, or wrong, it changes nothing. But you still want to find out, don't you. Then again, you kind of know what the answer is already. Are you sure that's what you want to see.

I don't know. If something meant to be good, brings you down instead. If people say it should keep your head up but has only made your eyes downcast. If we're supposed to look forward but fuck I can't shake reality. Not even when new boys start singing your praises.

Thoughts serve no purpose. I try my best to be in the moment. And in this place, it has been extremely helpful. But not always. Not always. I can feel time passing. And know not what to expect.

Maybe not from the sources you have poured yours.

2009-02-19T12:22:00.003+08:00

You know what I love about the US? Is that you'll never know who you're going to meet next. And I've been meeting the most incredible people.

Just three days ago in Hawaii, I met one of the biggest billionaires there. Had breakfast with him and went surfing and canoe surfing. He gave me one of the best experiences I've ever had in my life-- surfing.

Just last night, I met the most amazing guy I have ever encountered. We sat next to each other in the computer lab, and due to one simple question, ended up talking for almost 6 hours. I watched the sky turn from light to dark from behind his head. And the stories he told me, I would never be able to hear anywhere else. What is the likelihood that I would meet someone like that.

Is God smiling upon me or what? Yes I may have lost my camera. But look at the serendipity that occurs. In a while, the computer lab guy is going to help me solve one of my biggest challenges ever. And I seriously hope that the hack will work.

Life is good in America. There are so many activities everyday. California is huge, everyone's planning to do something, go for a hike, go shopping, go chill. The locals hang out with the exchange students, and some of my favourite buddies are those not from Asia. Even though europe and asia are so different, the people aren't so different after all.

It's funny how the more I talk to the americans, the more you realise so many of them hold the same views as you do. The same ideas about independence and breaking new grounds and going against the grain. Just like the guy in the computer lab.

And yet before I left, many told me that mindsets over here are different. Really? So many of the asian exchange students keep telling me to be more safe, and travel in groups. They keep feeling and appearing scared in the train stations and getting anxious. And yet I've been ignoring all that and doing whatever I wanted on my own, exploring supposedly dangerous downtown LA on my own. So many of the asians keep saying that oh, we mix better with asians and the europeans/americans are different, so we don't mix with them. Yet the people I've had the most amazing conversations with have been the whites, the jews, the blacks, the mixed and god-knows-what-ethnicity-are-you.

Maybe I've just found the people who think like me, finally. Or maybe it's just the diversity at USC. If there's one thing I learnt about over here. Is that your colour, does not determine whether you will sync with the next person.

2009-02-10T11:12:00.002+08:00

It has been a month in Los Angeles. But time flies so fast over here, I feel like it's only been 2 weeks. There's always so many things to do. My day ends so fast, the night gets dark at 6pm and it turns really cold. I always under-dress and end up freezing under the onslaught of wind at night. It has been raining on and off the past few days. The cold cuts right through to the bone, and note, it's mostly my fault cos I've been under-dressing.

I haven't got much plans for today and tomorrow. I think I'm going to take it easy and rest up for my big trip coming. Got to wake up really early to get the car to the airport. It'll be a huge HUGE change in weather in 5 hours, from temperate to tropical. But gosh I swear I cannot wait. It's been hard trying to sleep the past few days cos Hawaii hawaii is all that is on my mind right now. Doesn't help that you keep bumping into classmates and people who have gone to Hawaii and you gush together about the impending trip.

I am so broke now, I am starving. Seriously. I thought I would grow fat in LA, but maybe not. On top of that, I've been running the past few days to get in shape for Hawaii. Haha, absolutely vain but I intend to spend most of my time in swimwear. It does not make sense to put a shirt on if I'm going to take it off at the next beach I get to. So far, I've been exercising an ungodly amount of self-control. When I travel out of campus on my own, I frequently pass by all these delis and small stores selling delectable bites of food and I hold back frequently, mostly because I am cash-strapped, secondly cos it's calorie-laden. Back at my apartment I try to space out my fresh food, and usually I only eat fresh stuff because I don't want to succumb to microwave dinners just to save some dollars. Health is wealth so fresh food is a must. Ironically I eat less cos what I eat is expensive. But let's just say I make brilliant sandwiches and salads, given the interesting ingredients that I can put in.

This morning I sauteed onions and mushrooms together in soy sauce and topped it off on a slice of toast with cheddar and creamy avocado. Omg it was magical.

Okay, yours truly is really hungry now. Very very hungry. I need to get back soon to eat.

2009-02-09T04:18:00.003+08:00

In 2 days, I will be going to Hawaii.

Bought the plane and hotel tickets on a whim last Friday. Spurred on by a local girl who kept gushing about Hawaii over lunch. Went home and researched the entire afternoon, bought the tickets (at lastminutedeals.com haha) and rounded up a group to go after dinner. Omg.

Words.... cannot describe how excited I am to go Hawaii. Within hours of an idea, I am going to Hawaii in 4 days after the decision was made. Skipping school, staying 6 days and 5 nights in beach land. OMG.

OMG I AM GOING TO HAWAII!!!!!!

Hmm, what shall I do during the long weekend next week? -ponders-
Why... go to Hawaii of cos!!

2009-02-01T18:03:00.002+08:00

Without a second thought
It all became a silly a game
Somethings cannot be bought

I got exactly what I asked for
Wanted it so badly
Running, rushing back for more
I suffered fools so gladly

And now I find
I've changed my mind

(You see)

The face of you
My substitute for love
My substitute for love
Should I wait for you

----- "Drowned World", Madonna

Run halfway across the world, only to come right back to a reflection.