raw

Being happy is of course, nowhere on the same planar as being sad. With that being said, I've personally recognized happiness to be one of fleeting nature. It draws energy from a different 'base'. Grief however, connects one with his/her innermost self. It is raw and there is something distinctively primitive about it. We could relate it to the loss aversion theory; emotions gained from a dollar won is never the same as one with a dollar lost. We are hardwired to value losses far beyond reasonable comprehension. You'd probably spend at most a week in jubilee over a killing in equity markets; the other end of the scale saw countless ending their lives.

So did you ever wonder what ever happened to the bulk of compulsive buyers? Most of them think they are happy when they strip the whole shopping aisle bare; such exaggerated actions to blanket the insidious fact that they are really, lonely people. Constantly buying, mending the void in their hearts. At the end of the day, it is but a fallacy. They are still unhappy people, with a room full of merchandises. They don't go to bed with smiles on their faces.

tale of 2 worlds

Slipping into dreams that are bizarre as they are incoherent at times. Still, it was rather refreshing to dream up something I had thought matter. To sift through some of the ones, I've had simplistic dreams of wind-chimes. I could remember their designs and sounds in vivid fashion. On the other end of the curve though, there was this scenario where I'd tried to snap a god damned shot of a tornado hovering outside my humble abode. Really, if you thought we had bad weather...

Shrugging all(metaphorically or not) dreams, illusions and ethereal worlds aside, you cross over to the tracks of the real world or what have you. To brush away all things abstract, it is important to identify the differential features of both worlds. You would think we're often in control; more often than not you relinquish(subconsciously or not) control and let yourself be mired in all things derisory and apocalyptic. I can and controversially, cannot see why some would spend a counter-productive week on facebook mobile posting really sad updates and paying data charges simultaneously. This is perhaps harsh but the world didn't pause and mourn your updates. It didn't stopped revolving while I was down and out. You know, people in mental institutes cannot perform a differential. We probably shouldn't construct a mental asylum for our minds, but that is just my humble opinion.

progress, then regress

Of late, I've been harping on the notion of solitude. Touching on the strings of humanity. I mean sure, it is all about the camaraderie and communities. Could it also be juxtaposed with the vagaries of humanity? That which saw an impressive long list of conquest, war, genocides spanned over the course of time.

Nuances like public manners and hygiene; I probably devote too much time trying to figure out the distastefulness of it all. The community we're attached to, adopts a rather slack approach to the cultivation of values. Even on my best mornings, the public bus still looks suspiciously like a cauldron of really sick people that would have absolutely no qualms about starting a bio-hazard. As I am penning this down, there is an inane racket going on in the unit above, in the form of more-than-loud drills. So think, as we drive our fancy cars and renovate our apartments, of the externalities involved. Often we do as we will, at the expense of another. Your drills will cost the intrusion of personal space, your car will increase your carbon footprint, your bacteria-fondue cough will ruin another person's week.

I guess with proper education or even campaigns, it might serve to raise awareness. But just look around and you would notice that the budget for such is probably gathered from the few loose coins lying around the minister's office. In any case, it will be further exacerbated by the ever creative ways we devise to damn ourselves. Why, to cite an example, we could look at the theft of intellectual property, or piracy as we all know it. It is such an irony and you could only marvel at the simplicity of its humble origins. The formula for this century looks increasingly like this : Invent something, mop up its mess later. So yea, I guess a few years alone on an island will do us some good.

least of problems

I may have a few quirks myself; touching my face persistently is not one of the few. Especially in huge wiping gestures, like how you would wipe your face after a facial wash, except that you're really smearing facial oil over the already oily surface. I mean, that could only serve as a means to evenly distribute facial oil, to achieve a homogeneous spread or what have you. It may be a subconscious gesture, seeing the many perpetrators unaware of this social quirk. And the hands resume normal routines. They go on to shake other people's hands, to email on their blackberrys or touchscreen phones. Some phones have enough smear on them; you could scrape it off and it would suffice frying an egg. Oh yeah, the railings on public transports as well. Thumbs up.

keepers, new avenue

I wished everybody has a keeper. You know, just to pick you up when you're down and out. To give revelations and insights at points in time. I guess many turn to religion, and boy it must have saved many through renewed faith and purpose.

I am not a god's man; I guess I should be thankful for the little literary capability I possess. Whatever I find hard to commune verbally, I translate that into words. I deconstruct and examine, in hopes of construing the subject at hand. Of late, I've been investing much time into what many might label as simply a 'time consuming/labour intensive activity'. Running's pretty much a new direction, an avenue. I'd thought it would be a healthy outlet to channel negativity, and I guess in a way it is.

Running is the greatest metaphor for life, because you get out of it what you put into it." Oprah Winfrey

losing our reins

What's in a apology anyway? It's wordplay, and certainly ain't as melodious as Jason Mraz's one. Sometimes we are guilty of slanting a conversation towards our end of the scale. Could we just heave away the 'my problem's bigger than yours' or the 'there are people with worse problems' mentality, right out the window? We get caught up in provocation sometimes, all the distasteful words hurled are reflex responses. It is a, goddamn spiral downwards. For once, when it matters, it is hoped that at the very least, we could recall the fundamentals and foundations of a such a connection.

semantics

This would probably be the only legit place one ever gets as an avenue for penning down needless complains and redresses. I guess when you talk to another being it runs the risk of mis-communication, especially in a technologically fortified era. IMs, emails; hell some of us even initiate divorces through SMS-es.

I don't do great in communicating. Time and time again, events have demonstrated my inadequacies in that area. Arguments, are basically examples heaped back and forth, fortified with yet more examples. And we play the semantics game. It looks like I'm making a bee-line into oblivion, as I chase away everybody that ever matters.

I'll lock myself up with my thoughts and throw away the key.

fleeting flashes

Sometimes it is bleak, and it is hoped that we could all approach the same problem with a consistent mindset. Being fickle beings we are, it is mostly somewhat of a problem.

On some days I would feel like plundering, doing unto mankind what the world has done unto me. The boorish lifeforms, sneezing and coughing, spreading whatever conceivable diseases. All that might flash in my mind before I take a sane approach to things. Rationality prevails ultimately, but not imaginations; one feels truly alone. Of course we sometimes engage in irrational behaviour and that accounts for about 100% of crimes you see in the news.

On some days I become more at peace. Looking at the unspoiled(for now) skies, etched in space. I wished I could lock away the piece of sky in my mind; it is but fleeting.

true solitude

I could start talking to a tree pretty soon. That is one of many ways to rehearse for a lifetime of solitude I could see, rolled out on a red carpet. I mean, you frown upon the weird guy on the street doing his weird thing. You didn't think it could happen to you, did you?

What it is in a connection? Sometimes strongly forged but at times turns into a house of cards at some point in time; fuzzy at best. The agenda served, money frittered, energy expended. When all else fails we even find it hard to have lunch alone. Arr, all the sentimental creatures on planet earth.

It is and not

There was an overwhelming compulsion to greet the day with an expletive today. Flashing back a couple of days, I'd realised that the fleshes were nonetheless, invariably human. An insidious headache serves to remind me of my vulnerability, and my body responded by felling itself into a long ardous slumber. After two weeks of pounding, I had felt like a used kitchen rag. That being said, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Perhaps it does not explain the need to hurl a distasteful word at the break of dawn. Maybe I was jaded, maybe I was rushing for time. But in all chaos, there is clarity. It was clear that I wanted, or rather needed, to extract every derivable morsel of truth. It could have been. It was.

The office lady with the wrong heels. The man with a stack of lottery tickets in his hand; the stack aptly named 'hope'. My colleague who aspires to be an Austrian economist; he sports clothes from Spade and is never thankful for the wonderful girl he has. There is no respite from what many have shown. Not one is without forlorn hope or guilty bones. Obscenely futile at times, we still pursue in the seemingly needless. Even after trials and tribulations, we still do harm unto ourselves and others. The looks on our deathbeds, mostly ones of residual guilt.

time and the entity that is you

I wonder if perhaps one day, I would be estranged from the social aspects of life. Well, because I have been ranting on like an old man who has lost his cane. A while ago I offered to wheel an elderly to his destination, knowing full well I would deny any if I were to be put into the same situation. True enough, he declined. To take away the freedom of physical and mental mobility is to deny the world of an entity that is you. I need a reason to exist.

Just portraying the above involves the concept of Time. Well Time is again, a precious commodity and lately the books I've been flipping through in the bookstores are those with references to Time. I did not buy the books much as I would like to, because they looked like they've been salvaged from a tsunami(can't anybody get a book in mint condition around here?). Maybe I've adopted a heightened awareness of Time, or it might something else I could not quite put a finger to. It must be the latter, because the feeling is generally inexplicable. A chance encounter with a long lost friend in town sure brings about reminiscence; you could think nothing more of it or you could think about the harmony of choices that effected the encounter. We are like fabric woven in the medium, Time.

going slow

This doesn't do remarkably well with parents, me being not academically inclined to do well. Nevertheless, although it might not mean the world, my results affect how it looks at me. They are indicators of how the governing institute assesses you. And here we go again, a couple of days to d-day.

These days, everybody's getting poetic. Judging from the amount of self-made quotes available on social networking sites, we should probably have an information overhaul because some of them reflect zero intellect really. Of course, I am being cheeky/mean and should not question the freedom of speech because it is a paradox(I am writing now). But it should serve as a reminder that we are not hardwired to process large amounts of information(mostly redundant in today's context), and multitasking ain't always a favorable trait as efficiency is compromised. Slow is sometimes, beautiful.

Tunneling in

Most of the time it is a colossal task to stay focused on track. I'd realized because one night I went to sleep ever determined to lead an eventful life, and woke up the next morning feeling all blue and dreary. The pretty reminder of how dire situations can play out, was further exacerbated by the morning busload of sneezing and coughing individuals. The entire entity being one big gob of goo and could very well be the bubonic plague in one's worst nightmare.

I admire how one could stay true to their targets and most importantly, their individual selves. I guess you could look at Liam(Oasis) or Chris Martin(Coldplay); their vocals are ordinary but their bands are nothing short of phenomenal. Take the song "Wonderwall"; it is like the nation anthem of the UK. They stay true to their music, which couldn't really be said of the mainstream artistes hell bent on producing garbage nowadays.

flying away

If I've got the cash, I would very well take a year off after graduating and go travel. Maybe to down under or the land of beer. Not everybody's that privileged though. Nevertheless, it would prove to be a good source of detachment, away from this sunny island where everybody lives, walks and eats fast.

You've gotta realize that, everyone is hiding behind something at some point of time. It tires me, and it makes me think that I could never ever forge a connection in the foreseeable future. All I see now is what A does to B and what B does unto C. It's just about as pointless as going to a club where half the guys are out to get drunk while the other half's trying to get laid. And we live in a community where sexual innuendos and profanities are commonplace. The things we do to people, really.

You'd know why I would want to fly off, don't you?

You mean tea doesn't soothes you?

We always tend to find comfort in little things. Too often we dismiss something that is seemingly irrelevant to us, and too often it is also the shining beacon of another. When we break away we find little things we were oblivious to. I like my hair short, I adore my coffee and tea, I enjoy listening to the sultry voice above the melodious tunes belted out by the radio. And of course, the evening breeze at the bus stop, the morning sun on my face.

I've met the devil's advocate a while back, and the sum of nuances might very well be greater than the misgivings. I think I'm breaking away now, from the exacerbation of the farce.

it crumbles

Who am I kidding, to think it could be resolved by expending my time. It still could be, but it couldn't be measured in a mere few months. Like a really deep footprint into the sand, it takes a couple of waves to erode the prints. Sometimes, you can get information just by observing facial expressions of people. Some walk around as if they were expecting something, and somehow along the way they got lost. Maybe it is just an assumption on my part, but that forlorn face nudges me sometimes. It reeks of barren hearts, once fertile with footprints.

Forging impressions, then casting and crumbling memories. I couldn't sing a sadder tune.

tickets in and out

If you have ever seen one of MJ's concerts, you would have felt the stage presence he emanated. He may have been a fairy for all anyone could care, but one would agree that he is without a doubt, the greatest entertainer of all time. Have you seen his fans? They looked at him as if he was the answer to all life's problems, and that he was a messiah. Talking about his fans; they were fanatic. Anxiety attacks and tears; the serious ones were carted out on stretchers. No other concert comes close, really.

Talking about solutions to life's problems, it's been a couple hundred years since I've last stepped out of this lil' sunny island. Stepping on different soil, breathing different air. To gain whatever perspective at one's own time and pace. I guess I still need a little reprieve from the hustle that has inevitably characterized our country. My, the pace of life is so fast that, one couldn't even worry at his own time. We couldn't afford the time expense, so to speak.

fundamentally flawed

Maybe it is the way we've been brought up. It's always the race to complete any given thing in the shortest amount of time possible. Not that it's a bad thing, but it turns us into this edgy bunch. Always in need of a caffeine fix, never giving a moment's pause. Personally, I think that there is nothing particularly wrong in taking a year off to pursue one's interest or that tantalizing holiday. But that would always be met with much disdain, interestingly though, from many relatives whom in any case have no business in what you should be doing with your life.

To simplify, the rush to the end of your education is solely due to your burning desire to work for the rest of your life. I wonder if there's anything fundamentally wrong with that. Like many religious people who go through their whole lives without knowing what they are praying for, we can lose our roots at times.

bad mornings and bad dreams

Mornings on the bus are ways life could tell you to piss off. Mongering with the inane morning crowd is something else at times. For instance, the auntie who trodded over countless toes in a bid to get to her seat. It is small wonder why we ain't known as a courteous country. I mean, surely we could do better? We need to know that it is actually alright to take a couple of minutes off to breathe. What is the big deal in being caught up in the great big bloody irate morning express anyway? Let the anger slide.

We have pretty much nothing else to parade(in a cultural sense, and singlish does not count of cause); a look around and you would know that we do borrow heavily from other cultures. The gothic look and slippers, or a french manicure and slippers, or it could be that refreshing japanese look and slippers. Perhaps we could stop being dull and adopt a heightened sense of awareness.

~

And you wished it could go away like a really bad dream, I supposed. I wished it could all be dismissed, eradicated, and truncated. All the strong notions I've had about putting it all behind me is dispelled by waking up to the very thing I've been wanting to close a lid on.

I still wake up, remembering you in vivid colours and details.

a wee bit helps

Recently, a colleague of mine was particularly incensed with the service he'd received at a particular stall. Although I do not share his vengeful enthusiasm(I wouldn't wanna elaborate as that is an entirely different case), shoddy service does not cut too well with me. At this point in time, when paying a premium for food is common place, you would have expected prim and proper service to be an integral part of the package. I'm currently working as a curriculum administrator at the front desk, and I would always make it a point to greet at bare minimum. Simply because I know how it sucks so bad to be on the receiving end of bad service at the end of a really long day; a smile or greeting could do wonders.

It's been maybe what, 10 years since we have really opened up. Isn't it a long enough period for businesses to know that they are nothing without their customers? You could go on and on all day about how that inane customer was taking stabs at you without realising that, he was merely executing in reciprocation.

lemonades

I guess it's been a dry patch of late. My motivation's dearly missed; it's probably six feet under in the wake of events. And suddenly, I have too much time thrown at me. It's been said that if life gives you lemons, make lemonades. I would probably never get a fair shot at whatever I've once coveted, so if I could, I'll channel whatever that's left of me into something else.

Someone asked me today if I thought life was fair and I gave a 'no' in a pico second. Not solely because I've been on the receiving end at times. For instance, do you think it's fair you're in an air conditioned room when there are countless living in rural areas? Or that middle aged guy who falls asleep in some corner of a shopping centre, and wakes up only to remember how his wife left him for another man. It never is, and we should perhaps give a moment's pause.

It ain't always fair to me, and I embrace it.

united charlatans

Ar, in the wake up nuclear scares and viral infections. We're not as safe as we would like it to be. Well, if it sickens you, the only way would be to relocate to a swamp in the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, the world could be as scenic as Eden or as picturesque as a hearse. I don't think I would ever be able to commit to a single side of the picture. And certainly, not capable of loving anyone ever. We've all been on the receiving end of untoward events, and you would agree it taints the whole experience more than what a favorable event does to an unfavorable one. It just ain't the same anymore, you say. Ignorance is only bliss by choice; if you didn't know shit you wouldn't be feeling anything in any case. Which leads us to feigned ignorance, and it is just about pointless really.

emptiness and time, in true fashion

Every morning, I never fail to pass by the park without feeling the awe of it. Awe of what? As I push forward, the relatively slow pace of morning park life around me negates the brisk nature of my walk. I guess that the people who have any time at all are the elderly; they are mostly retired and are more at ease. Have you seen the morning face of the work force? Holistically. Most of us are just disgruntled and full of angst; we go to work in true monotone fashion and bitch about it for eons to come. Sometimes, even that may be rather tolerable, if only you have something to hang on to. That is if you have a loving wife, darling kids to come home to. Just something, no matter how small the attachment might be. But we must be reminded that we can also come home to a torn family, saddled with debts, with no love or warmth to seek comfort in. It carries forward to the next dreaded day and accumulate in the vat we call our hearts. Over time, the vat erodes and you wouldn't be able to recognize yourself anymore. And the great big question, what the fuck am I doing here?

Just a lil love, comfort, or respect to alleviate the pain. You see, it could all be easier. But we wouldn't slow down and pause to think for a nanosecond, about the things we do unto others.

how do you deal?

One week into my temp job. Every morning I observe the jostling and scurrying of the morning crunch time crowd. I always wonder how many of us can go back home, and say we're contented with how everything else is going along. Oh, how the years have shaped you.

Different priorities for different phases of your life. It could have been the race to the baggiest jeans around in your teenage years. I've gotta admit(sheepishly) I used to own a pair of JNCO jeans. It was cool to sweep the streets with your jeans back then. Then, the years peel off. It then largely becomes a fight to come to terms with things that may not always go your way. How do you deal, picking up pieces along the way.



Every now and then I come across a gem this beautiful.

Tugged the moon into the ground
Turned this bedroom upside down tonight
Took my faith and I breathed it out
Then walked right through a cloud of flashing lights
Bright lies.

Pain takes my heart's place
The love we made
We cant erase it
Don't wanna face it

Pitter pat, the angel on my shoulder
Is haunting me tonight
Tick tock, the clock is getting louder
Ready for me to decide

I've lost my sense of right and wrong
Well-justified my soul to carry on
It feels so damn good to write off the rules
But when a new day breaks
I'm left a fool
I'm such a fool

Pain takes my heart's place
But your sweet sweet love,
Oh, I can taste it
But still can't face it

Pitter pat, the angel on my shoulder
Is haunting me tonight
Tick tock the clock is getting louder
Waiting for me to decide

The sun is coming down on me
Could fate be so unkind?

Pain takes my heart's place
The love we made remains

hues of..

A long time ago I told myself I had to trot down to Holland Village, plant my ass there and read a book. With a couple of beers of course. I did eventually switched over to Starbucks and it wasn't half as bad.

As I called it a day, I was glad that in my godforsaken land there are little things still worthy of a smile, splashed right across the dimming evening sky.

this affliction

I would really lose hands down in a personality contest. I ain't the best I could be, I ain't acting the way I should at times. Though often troubled and contemplative, it would be something you wouldn't see in my face even if you stared for eons(maybe it's because I have an uncompromising jawline). This persona, I seemingly emanate only in cyberspace.

I guess it creeps upon like an affliction. The ability to process and the compelling urge for greater truth, is a blessing until it is not. Boy, am I frustrated by the dearth of answers at times. And we retard ourselves in the face uncertainty and untruths, acting irrationally. I've ever thought of penning it down, maybe like a book or something. The problem is, writers often have sight of the bigger picture. Which I do not have regrettably. My exposure and outlook lacks depth really, narrow and shallow like I sometimes am. Personality contest?

your track record is irrelevant

We're just too obsessed with track records. Mostly, it is irrelevant and obsolete. Maybe it is because we're universally hardwired to believe so. I've got shitloads of sporting medals tucked away in my cupboard right now and it doesn't even remotely say anything about me. Yep, the guidelines and SOPs are in place for a reason; to screen out potential individuals then cut miles of red tape. Sometimes it is easier to make a snap decision and move on. Of course, if your track record is irrelevant, companies wise to the idea would take the opportunity to capture certain traits and strengths of that individual. That is what counts; Larry Bird had court sense, Tiger Woods has sight. They are paid beacoup bucks not because of what they've achieved, but rather for the ability to reproduce results the next time round.

That is why we don't often hear the part about some guy making it big then losing it all. We only hear about the accomplishments because they are all to brag about, while the latter is hushed up and sunk. For every individual that scored big time, there are thousands of others that have failed. We've gotta learn to say "I don't know" more often.

ponder, pondering, pondered.

I wonder what's the main cause of my insomnia; pondering too much or pondering too much over what I've pondered. The only time I wouldn't have something to think about is probably when I'm intoxicated.

Sometimes the world is as crappy as it gets. Living in a place where effort is sometimes never recognized or rewarded. I've had friends telling me never to put in 100% less I can't pull out unscathed. But that ain't me and if someone should suffer for a 100% invested I would take it like I should. Which led me to realize that over the years, people would somehow find a way to let me down. It isn't attributed to a lack of effort but to a rather unfortunate string of events and crossroads. At the end of the day, that is the reason why some people are probably best left behind as memories. Because you could give it your all and still be on the wrong end of the order of things. Accepting bad calls and decisions that don't always come your way is a measure of your character really.

ridding

Some things happen and we're forced to grow up in ways. Sum of our experiences, I would have said. We would be sure to tackle the same problem in a different way the next time round, wouldn't we? It sure is taxing, and I've probably processed too much for someone my age. Now, you can't blame the occasional lament from someone, wishing he/she could turn back the clock. To the fairytale age where one is distanced from intricate emotions and human relationships.

Now, what do I wish for then? A house with a million dollar view would be great. So would reprieve.

dignified massacres

The issue of freewill and equality, is not definitive enough. Or rather it couldn't be. Sometimes, to lift the fog we superimpose on others. It is the same story echoed repeatedly, over and over again. Quashing the ideals of people you thought were different from you. Terrorism, religion, politics. You find the common denominator and you'll understand why equality is superficial, in the world where one tries to assume a position higher than that of another. To cite one example, reports of religious 'peddlers' outside schools are becoming more rampant. Its no different from peddling drugs really, because you are in fact trying to induce a different lifestyle in that individual altogether. It might be a minority tarnishing the image of their organization, but the society looks upon them holistically. What would we do, single out the peddler and subject him to public execution? It doesn't really work that way at times.

Individuals, singling themselves to be the creme de la creme of the society. They walk with poise, compliment every action taken as dignified. They are the ones that would probably squirm at a Nat Geo documentary of a cheetah digging into its prey. Because it is not dignified, they might say. Actually, note that we are doing the very same thing with a fork and knife. Plus, we coined what dignified means.

ta daaaaaaaa

This really ain't a milestone in the really cranky(mine) world of online rant-to-sphere but, it's the first photo I've put up.















I thought the lighting was great, and it compliments the food. Or rather, the lighting was the reason why the picture worked in the first place. So Steve Jobs, if you're looking at this, we need a better camera for the Iphone!

I've always liked photography, and I guess its the lack of effort to devote enough time for anything at all.

i mean, who wrote these rules.

What is it that people do most predictably, when they have no way of quantifying or justifying or even to marginally excuse themselves from a mess. Maintain silence, that's what most of us do. What are we, 16?

Maybe its the temper, the urge to know, that forms the overwhelming compulsion to push towards an eventual conclusion. Against reconciling and in the process pretending its A-OK, I chose to say the right thing. Maybe I'm the embodiment of Dr Gregory House(fictional of course); spouting cynical truths and alienating everybody else. I guess it must be noted that, you don't always get the desired outcome even if you do or say the right thing. Just because you aspire doesn't always mean you'll get it.

That might be the saddest truth of all. Sometimes, life is hard.

definitely, definitively random

So, could we count the number of things we've brought over from the last 5 years of our lives? Or rather, the things we've left behind. The only fun most of us would get 5 years down the road is most probably the twirling of an office pen. I'm not saying everybody else is as boring as me. I'm just saying that, you've probably got a bunch of equally insane fun loving peeps riding the waves with you a while ago. And now, we've got to act like responsible work driven adults to cover up the mostly irresponsible selves. Which is an admirable trait really, except that there is no end game. The things we do, the choices we've made. And that has led me invariably here.

You've lost connections, the ever transient youth, and even hobbies we used to love. Then it is clear why we seek the ones we used to love, pursue solutions to the aging problem, and preoccupy ourselves with hobbies. Covering grounds, plugging holes, and making up for lost time. Before we fall into dementia, we would try and bridge the gap. All this, in the middle of paying for health insurance, paying for all possible kinds of loans. You would probably go home to your huge ass TV and watch the news. Muscles you never knew existed hurt, and you become more knowledgeable medically speaking(because you think a certain condition might spell the end). Most of us don't see where all this is heading; I don't. Until you find comfort in a purpose, and in this infinite space, where could mine possibly be.

just one question

A lil walking, a lil running, and some music therapy to cleanse the poisonous fumes. Well, to some extent.

At times, I wanna fling away the blinds, open the closed doors. What's stopping me is one inevitable fact. Will they see what I see? If not, it's far too often then, the quick leap to conclusions. I don't seek to have all the wealth or wisdom in the world. But instead, to know the sole purpose and truth to it all before it all turns into ashes. Maybe I'll find a definitive answer tomorrow, or when I'm 60. You can amass all the power and wealth, stand tall, until you ask yourself what's next. Not knowing is heinous, and perhaps a sign would be comforting after all.

zip

Well, I've gotta stop the solemn posts, and talk about the lighter things like global and cosmos issues(expecting dry laughter). Had my hair cut short, and hopefully the fragments lay where they belong.

Now, to pick up things I've left along the way. Got pooped over a 1.8km run and I guess my mental health ain't the only thing that has suffered over the past few months.

compounding miseries

It's been what, maybe 2 days after my exams and I'm still kind-of lost. I'm always reminded of the constant fact that exams' not the only thing that's finished. In retrospect, it was always going to be a silly and immature affair. Now, your apologies and I'll never hear from you again.

So much for being cruel. I love how misery compounds.

eventual

My exams will end later, along with a whole lot of other things. Maybe I'm cruel to myself, or maybe I needed someone to be cruel to me. Torment and misery's my bread and wine. Executing it any better and it might actually turn into an authentic occupation.

"hey there! Here's my name card; I'm the tenacious tormentor and I torment myself for a living. Pleased to meet you."

living free

What is it like to live life chained and shackled? Conversely, can we live free with no regards for whatsoever? Some mighty gambles we take, individually and collectively. To go a hundred percent, to persist in that direction.

Sadly, when regrets set in, it is inevitable that we could only find ourselves in one place. The place where bridges burn. Had you known, I can be pretty sure you would not have started anything at all. An utter paradox though, because it would not be interesting and obviously daft to have our lives read out to us. And perhaps too silly to be harping on regrets that are one too many for a lifetime. I've walked the path with no regrets; I can only wonder if you did.

mash my heart, stick it in a blender.

Maybe its all part of natural selection. Or maybe I'm not even in the right frame of mind to make any deduction at all. I just think that there is a special reason why we are made to experience grief like it is. Overwhelming, intense and achingly so. And, a whole pile of fuzzy emotions I can't quite put a word on.

I've never been good at letting go. Everything stems from 感觉, and that has led to a whole load of silly and blind pursuits, with an outright blatant disregard for consequences. That was me, and I could say I was true to myself. I had to know if you could stay true. It's funny though, how we can make choices with comparable stupidity when we try to rationalize and weigh the consequences.

Consider the vagaries of the human race; an entire history with its fair share of irrational and bad choices made.


我不知, 感情能就这样溶化. 感谢你给的这段时间.

too much grief for a lifetime

Sometimes we have no idea what we do to each other with words. Things spoken out of spite, contempt, and sometimes grief. So today, I spoke with grief and you spoke with conviction. Words are what we use to inflict mindless damage at times. Used as a weapon, as an arm of your thoughts. To facilitate and manipulate an outcome. How can I be happy, when I walked out of your life like that. Merely a page flipped, a love lost, and a friend long gone.

when breathing hurts

I mean, why say things when you don't mean it. Perhaps it's the in heat of the moment, or it was spoken with careful consideration. But once said, it's irrevocable. And I'm left buried in the mud I've heaped upon myself. Are you reveling in great satisfaction derived from your awry ill-conceived sense of justification?

Sometimes, silence is hardly the best solution. Silence, at the expense of another. Because you believe it'll all go away like a good fairytale; you refuse to undertake anything that will take a toll on yourself. You want no change and you might be so caught up in it, without giving a damn to anyone else you might hurt along that lonely road. Until everybody who used to care, walks out of your life. Is that the status quo as you know it?

I've looked through your eyes, the vision that used to be forward looking.

You know, I've tried. You're just one of the many things that is out of my control.

It guess it hurts to breathe now, goddamnit.

scream, and my disdain

I have so much hate, I don't know where the fuck it's coming from or what the fuck it's about. I can't put a word on it. Some arguments, you know you can't win. So where would you channel the grieve instead?

5 years down the road, you look at the necklace and I wonder what are you reminded of. Angst, distaste, or a love long lost.

for all the wrong reasons

The order of things is such that, we move on to a better alternative given the chance to do so. But, come end of the world, you can be sure that people would stay behind for all the wrong reasons. I would. Hopes, no matter how shattered and battered and torn and painfully ludicrous, are all we hang onto sometimes. Grasping at thin air; it is asphyxiating and consequently a fool's game.

I never thought I would always be here holding on
Someone took my dreams and made them dumb
Nobody ever said it would be as hard as hell
Well you can run like hell until you come undone
If you're like me you'll be long gone

Chorus:

Hold me like a butterfly
Hold me like a dream someone else can drive
Hold me like a butterfly
Until the fears subside someone else can drive
Tonight

-

delectable bitterness

A mention of bitter coffee, black or sugarless and people would cringe. Because to them, life is savory and delectable when it is sweet. But it is not; sweetness may just as well be another silly masquerade for something less desirable. And so, I have my bitter conclusion as I've come to expect what's to be expected.

social quirks

I was momentarily reminded of my old events company from a while back. They really should have taken more care of their employees. The way they handle their payments was met with much disdain. That, and they fail to see that it could haunt them somewhere down the road. What is to stop me from doing a Paul Revere? Dismiss the effects of 'by word of mouth' at your own risk; just think Facebook or Twitter.

'By word of mouth' branches into evil in the form of insurance agents as well. Nowadays I would just avoid picking up calls from local numbers. "Hi, this is so-and-so from I-Fleece-You.Inc. So-and-so gave me your number so I'd thought I would...". I felt rather disappointed when I knew that my number was given away by friends. The moment I picked up that call it crosses from social to market norms. There is nothing warm about that.


And yet, another episode of DUS(Disgruntled Ugly Singaporeans)
I get it and can certainly see that, it has been raining cats and dogs. Everybody wants to get onto the bus unscathed but that's not gonna happen. Still, whats the whole fucking point of pushing and pressing wet plastic bags behind my knees? If you yearn for human contact I would gladly offer a hug. Tsk, and you're a working class adult. I would have used your face as a windscreen wiper for the wet bus, really. And when you are on the bus, there are people who couldn't care what juts out of their bags, even if it is an unsheathed samurai sword. Reserving seats too, no nos. I saw this parody on channel 8, where the words 'chope' were part of the tissue paper packet design. A nice dig(I wanted to applaud but I had no audience) really, that would make people cringe. I've heard people justifying their rustic actions but its a whole load of bullshit actually. If a packet of tissue paper was accidentally left there, the seat's gonna be left vacant? A packet of tissue paper isn't even an obstacle and we should stop being soft. Just looking at the jarring picture below is visually offensive; I wouldn't want to hear the explaination.















The terror unleashed by the tissue paper packet.


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

At the end of the day, at the end of every post, I realized that I have so much resent. The kind you'll never see in my face. With the amount of shit going on, it only serves to make death less menacing.

critical or not

It was the last economics lesson of the semester, and somehow the lecturer managed to spew out examples that were unheard of. And I realized, this gargantuan exposure we were supposed to have and acquire. Seriously lacking in the critical thinking skills department; we can't think out of the box. The lecturer asks a question and you could hear the deafening silence. There is stark difference between the way MIT or Oxford's business school conducts their lectures and, ours. Not to mention, the quality of graduates churned out. Sure, SMU might be a step in that direction, but the system's still green. After all, most of us are cut out to recite a textbook backwards.

Yes, backwards. We actually believe it works.

breaking away

Like I've mentioned in my previous post, we try to seek shortcuts at times. The thing about a curve, it is longer than a straight line. Something for thought.

The academic route is a helluva straight line, at least in sg. When exams loom, it towers and envelopes us. Because we're made and shaped to think that way(I'm not sure if it is a conducive environment to bring up your kids in). Personally, I'm against reproducing what I have learned on a piece of paper. How can regurgitating information be an education policy? Regrettably, that is also how we are appraised. Our grades reflect how the schooling body looks at us. I must wonder though, if the many that walk out with degrees and phds and such, have any hindsight at all. Try asking them questions and you might get a whimsical 'huh?'.

Well, to give some credit where it's due, this might also be the best way to nurture our ever small talent pool. People from the gifted stream, so I've heard, were taught* to be loyal to the country even before puberty. I call that mining for talents; you'll see that when you know how desperate they are to hold on to their scholars(contracts and bonds). People ain't all that blind, and the talent pool leaks when they leave.

* when you teach something to someone who's 6, you're brainwashing.

intangible goods

Every morning I see people chasing buses, like it's the last one out of this forsaken planet. It might be if they got fired should they be late for work. I think what they are chasing is not the bus but rather, time. Ever seeking to carve out a curve to something so damningly linear as time. To buck the trend, to get ahead.

It is a much sought after commodity after all, but how do you acquire something like that? "I need more time, more time!", one might say. The only way to do that is to perhaps, take some time off work and be one with the Bahamas. Because you sure as hell ain't getting more than 24hrs a day. Funny though, how the majority of us are made to taste life by doing something as repetitive and monotonous as work. Perhaps we ain't happy about what time has gotta say after robbing years of our youth or even adulthood. But we must be thankful, for it brought about some growth and perceptions that might have otherwise eluded us.

free fall

You know, when you've come to habour expectations, the build-up might be euphoric. The marvelous and sweet future you could see dangling right outside your window. Probably could not contemplate losing something as important as that. So you've thought.

But of course, citing Forrest Gump. That life is like a box of chocolates, as so adequately quoted by Tom Hanks. It's paradoxical huh, when you try to be so strong it just manifests your weaknesses. To self destruct, to self mutilate, or just the plain ol' bawl. I wish I could hurl the preconceived notion of 'men don't cry' right out of the window sometimes. To deny that emotion is to deny what makes us invariably human. Regrettably, we have a face for every place though, and that notion inevitably boomerangs back.

getting arithmetic with...

The source of most problems for men, can be effectively written as follow,

Function(Men) = Function(Money) + Function(Women)

Where money and women are bi-variate functions of men. Actually, that equation is effectively garbage but yea, I wouldn't deny the source of most of my problems. I wish I could communicate with you, but you're in a state of nonchalance. And that leaves this deep, dark empty space; all I have is an echo.

I'm contemplative as in to what I can achieve, really. This amount of time I have, nothing more, nothing less. Exactly one lifetime.

fuzzy and warped days

Sometimes, you could be all you want to be but, throw in the boundaries of morality and things become fuzzy and warped. Crossing over and not is the difference between potential problems and problems that can potentially be eliminated had you not. You know how some matters are not particularly resistant to the sands of time; they are trying and they erode.

I guess its only right to accept that someone people can just walk away, just like the way how some cannot. And how you could love someone so much until you can say you hate him, and be back there at the bat of an eyelid. Again, citing an overused cliche, time will tell. There has to be a point of time where someone decides that something has to be done. The time buffer is of course variable for every individual, but nevertheless scaling towards an eventual conclusion.

fathoming the irony

Why we persist in the irrational is at times beyond comprehension yet bizarrely predictable. I speak because I didn't buck the trend, and am regrettably mired in such. Such devastatingly complex emotions.

Gonna lift this whole chunk out of a book I was reading. I could fathom, as reading it struck peculiar notes in my very minute life. If only we could envision consequences, because we lack the capacity to do so at times, really. How we hate to see a door close on us and how we like our options; irrationality is inevitable.

-

Dana, another student of mine, had a similar problem - but hers centered on two boyfriends. She could dedicate her energy and passion to a person she had met recently and, she hoped, build an enduring relationship with him. Or she could continue to put time and effort into a previous relationship that was dying. She clearly liked the new boyfriend better than the former one - yet she couldn't let the earlier relationship go. Meanwhile, her new boyfriend was getting restless. "Do you really want to risk losing the boy you love," I asked her, "for the remote possibility that you may discover - at some later date - that you love your former boyfriend more?" She shook her head "no," and broke into tears.*

What is it about options that is so difficult for us? Why do we feel compelled to keep as many doors open as possible, even at great expense? Why can't we simply commit ourselves?

-

We glorify ourselves too much really. Coming together in unison, to celebrate the marvels of humanity's triumph. And yet, we are dwarfed by the likes of such.

continuity

It has invariably led to the start of my 3rd blog, this probable need for an avenue or space to ramble. Has it been a string of random events and accidents, leading to this point in time? The past few months have been a blur. Events jmubeld up lkie taht, and I lack the words to describe this apparent farce.

This inadequacy of mine, I must say, is costly and ultimately bearing as I walk the path of such. Not to mention, taxing to my friends whom have had the ill luck of hearing me bitch at times. It has inevitably taken precedence over matters such as exams. I try to do the right thing at times but I end up feeling less of a being. Well, they say the roadway to hell is paved with good intentions.

What can I say? You're half a world away.