Everything Isn't Meant To Be OK

sorry, blogspot

2009-07-02T00:43:00.000+08:00

Class 3 so far

2009-07-01T21:32:00.006+08:00

Thoughts as I am cruising down the TPE:

I am tempted to zip closely pass that van or in between the two nissan sunnys for a "near miss"

At times I treat the accelerator like the "x" button on a ps2 controller: fully depressed or not depressed.

Out of nowhere, hitting the brakes and veering to the left suddenly to go into a drift suddenly seems like a good idea for chalking up imaginary boost points.

If I change lane suddenly to take that exit, I'll down my wanted level.

It's okay if I scrape the side of the divider or ram into someone's car. The spray 'n' pay will take care of the damages in an instant.

There's always the restart race option if I totally screw up and flip the car over.

All those hours of Grand Theft Auto, Burnout and Need For Speed weren't for nothing afterall. I should not be driving in this state of mind, no siree.

Things I enjoyed recently

2009-06-17T19:57:00.007+08:00

Movies:

Departure

Gran Torino

Shindler's List

Books:

Walden- Thoreau

The Old Man and the Sea- Hemingway

The Shadow of the Wind- Carlos Luiz Zafon

Music:

U2, 18 Singles

Oscar Peterson, The Paris Concert

The Carpenters, Greatest Hits

Again, highly recommended.

xkcd

2009-06-16T22:53:00.000+08:00

highly recommended:

www.xkcd.com

My Foray into Noir Fiction. Epilogue.

2009-05-28T17:46:00.003+08:00

Previously

It's been a year. Not much has happened since that day. I saw Timmy's mum for the the first time at his funeral. It was a quiet, simple affair at the church parlour. The turn out was low, two to be specific. His mother and his psychiatrist. Apparently the pastor had had a severe bout of diarrhea on that day.

The psychiatrist had come to collect his bills and left soon after he realised that Timmy had been shit broke all along and died without a penny. During the five minutes I spent at the wake not a word was uttered and Tim's mum just sat there, gazing out onto the streets. Perhaps she had been expecting something like this to happen for a long time now and its happening did not change a thing.

I was sitting at the corner of my block, passing time. Timmy's death had given me some publicity among the circles and I still took the odd case now and then.

"You know sonny, you look like a guy set on doing nothing in your life." I did not reply to this voice, preferring to concentrate on fiddling with my newly obtained driver's license. That ought to shut Timmy up, if he was still around, though I was nowhere close to getting a car.

"They used to call me the King in those days, I was on the road, did shows and everything. Then one day I realised things weren't going right. I found myself standing on a high place, looking down, wishing, to be down. But I decided not. I just walked out of my own life."

"So what should I do?"

"Ya know kid, now I walk the plane between life and death. The world says I do not exist, that I am dead and yet here, I breathe and speak! Sometimes I wonder if I can ever die. My advice to you? Go an-"

I decided not to take it and left the stranger to continue his rambling to the air and a few moments later, found myself sitting on the ledge of my apartment window, looking down at the streets below. At the corner of the block sat an old Indian man, still speaking about his conflicting state of existence.

I took a deep breathe and let go. I lived on the second floor. I spent the next few months with a cast on my leg and walking on crutches, but I lived.

Recommended you read it from the start (Part 4 Part 5)you get the spoiler that Timmy dies. This thus concludes my first novella.

an evening of labour

2009-05-24T00:18:00.003+08:00

After much procastination, it was finally DONE! An evening of regurgitation of half-developed ideas from the intangible recesses of the mind, given life through my fingers into numerous 1's and 0's, then pressed onto paper and taking form in the material world.

It was then sealed, stamped and sent to the front lines.

Return with your shield or upon it, I whispered.

Dreamers

2009-05-21T17:56:00.007+08:00

The Dreamers

Soldiers are citizens of death's grey land,

Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.

In the great hour of destiny they stand,

Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.

Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win

Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives.

Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin

They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dugouts, gnawed by rats,

And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain.

Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,

And mocked by hopeless longing to regain

Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,

And going to the office in the train.

by Siegfred Sassoon

A few years back I made a rip-off of this poem, which I still like alot till this day as I was browsing through my older entries, maybe because what I made mostly wasn't mine.

The Dreamers Revisited

Students are citizens of school's grey land,
Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.
In these great hours of drudgery they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.

Students are sworn to the threadmill; they must score
Some flaming, fatal climax with their test.
Students are dreamers; when the class begins
They think of sunny fields, starry nights, and rest.

I see them in dusty classrooms, gnawed by fatigue,
And outside the headmasters' offices, lashed with the shame.
Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
school-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And sleeping in during the rain.

-Me

Fishing

2009-05-08T00:36:00.002+08:00

There's a certain mystical and profound joy to be found in fishing.

Even though no fish may be caught, there's still the feeling that one leaves the pier with more than he had before.

Sorry, fish.

Hospitality - Part One

2009-04-24T20:17:00.004+08:00

For as long as I have walked, I have always come across these walls, rows of hedges that stretched alongside a particular road on which I commuted frequently, by foot of course. Though I have seen greater walls in my travels, this one seemed no less uninviting as any other wall I had seen — or rather 'experienced' would be the word, for walls are to be felt as much as they are to be gazed upon — and I foolishly indulged in my ignorance for months before I dared venture so much as to take an interest in what could possibly lie behind it.

It began on one of my many monday morning strolls, of which I partake in on a weekly basis, for it is such that the society I lived in could only afford to give a man seven days in a week, four weeks in a month and twelve months in a year, going so far as to give death a nudge when we got more years than we should have in a lifetime, though how that works remains a mystery to most men.

This will be a short (maybe not) collection of Thoreau-inspired chapters (sans the paragraphing style) which I will compile into one when it's done. More soon (or later).

humanity win

2009-04-06T02:52:00.003+08:00

Recommended to me a few months ago by Chun Kang, who raved about it as one of the best films he'd ever watched. True.

Beneath every soldier is just a mere human and soul.

musings #1

2009-04-01T01:26:00.004+08:00

I remember about a year ago when I was still a trainee, (woah. a year already) there used to be this running joke amongst some guys. The platoon IC would always be in front asking the section ICs for the strength (number of people present) and some would just deadpan "very strong" or "okay" or "ninety-two without buffs and gear"

And some of the times, they weren't even trying to be funny. They were just answering the question the way they saw fit to, just to break out of the monotony. I never failed to be amused by that, even when it was my turn to do so.

The Incident

2009-03-26T13:20:00.002+08:00

I've always wondered how the guilty could take their place on the stands and remain expressionless, some even smiling when judgement has been passed on them and their sentence recited.

An incident the other day sparked some revelations.

The the facts and evidence were all in place and yet the accused was said to have bore an expression of calmness and nonchalance, almost acting as if he was an observer, rather than a partaker of the crime. It seemed to me almost like an act of defiance and denial towards the situation, a refusal to be guilty.

And then it struck me that it was the exact opposite, for only the truly guilty could afford to do so. For only they would understand that whatever protests and reasonings they could come up with were powerless against the absolute truth in their hearts. For all the wrongdoings done, they were the ultimate witnesses of the crimescenes and to deny any of it would be akin to wrestling with oneself.

And so only the truly guilty can afford to take to the stands, their faces expressionless, some even smiling as their sentences are read out. To accept that what's done has been done, throwing away their paddles and letting the flowing river of justice take its course.

as of today..

2009-03-22T21:16:00.003+08:00

I renounce all past acheivements and glories. I've been resting on my mediocre laurels for some time now and enough is enough. Over the past few months I've been standing at the sides, arms folded and watching my condition as the human being I once was slip away. I spout out excuses reasonable enough for others to accept surely, but still that does not mean I should do likewise. Am I but a mere figure that lives for the appeasement of others but not myself? Enough is enough.

They say we are only as good as our last race. I beg to differ.

We are only as good as our next one.

Of course writing this is all very in the spur of the moment kind of thing and I humbly acknowledege that there is every reason to fail trying to do this. Dammit.

affirmation

2009-02-28T00:32:00.002+08:00

Honestly, I do get weary of updating sometimes. Anyone out there, if you still read this blog please, please leave a comment here so that at least I know that my writings do reach somewhere.

Yeah, I know I'm selling out with this one and I know it may end as an awkward tragedy but everyone needs some-

shortie

2009-02-16T01:34:00.002+08:00

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

Never really understood this one before but then an incident the other day made it ever so clear to me. It would have been almost funny, if not for the cursing and swearing of the antagonised bunch and the complete obliviousness of the antagonist to the situation.

But I just couldn't help smiling a little as I recited this idiom for the first time to some guy beside me.

afternoons

2009-02-01T20:34:00.001+08:00

sucks to realise you've slept away an entire weekend afternoon.

Between the lines

2009-01-09T00:41:00.004+08:00

Picture a creature so honest so kind
that one struggles to find any fault
in its word and deeds.
A reliable fellow,
many would trust
without a moment's hesitation.

But look a little closer,
at the edge of its lips (right side)
and you'll see, a lil' twitch
as it gives Timmy a coin, saying
'so go buy yourself a drink.'

Chip off the paint job,
peck at the shell,
heck drill to its core and
one will then find
not rainbows and sunshine,

but a dim-lit library of
lies and deceit,
loan-outs of
dishonesty in a
single receipt.

So you flip the pages,
thinking the words make sense.
It's really all truth
and no pretense.
But you realise the author
wasn't writing to you.

It was just writing
about what it thought
should be.
A lifetime of insincerity.

Edited on 120109. This was supposed to be a short story.

Random Pictoral

2008-12-26T21:16:00.004+08:00

Hitting the sand dunes on ATV. Awesome thing to play with, though I almost destroyed my back when I tried doing an aerial.

I've got my sights set on the high ones.

My cousins' family and me, post-operation. About seventeen stitches in all. Not shown in the picture is my left knee.

And that's how I saved Christmas. Last year. And last last last year. No pics from this year. Nope. None.

The sun's not yellow, it's chicken

2008-12-06T15:52:00.004+08:00

A poet, first and foremost.

Was listening through it again for the first time this year. The lyrics kinda struck me differently this time, maybe because I wasn't really distracted this time by the scratchy vocals. Whole lot of surreal references and imagery mixed up with simple gritty rhythm backings. People just don't write songs like this anymore.

The geometry of innocence flesh on the bone
Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
At Delilah who's sitting worthlessly alone
But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter

Planet Hitam

2008-12-01T12:12:00.002+08:00

Pure awesomeness. Almost makes me feel patriotic for the homeland.

Mumbai arrrghh

2008-11-30T01:05:00.003+08:00

When I saw the news I was like arghhh not again. It's totally non-productive and ruining our lives. I felt giddy, disgusted and sad.

And then I picked up my rifle and stood for another hour outside the gate because it was all I could do.

The Beetle

2008-11-18T20:03:00.004+08:00

As I write this, the buzzing and tapping noises outside my window goes on. Tirelessly, the little (though it's rather big for its kind) flying critter continues its relentless, or should I say desperate, assault on the invisible wall that is all that divides it against what it seeks. The light.

It's hard to determine what it represents. A battering ram against the walls of Jerusalem? Or a cold, hungry hobo trying to find a charitable host for the night. If exoskeletons could bruise (I don't really know) I'd say it's pretty battered up by now. The tapping has stopped and I see the faint shape of the beetle crawling about aimlessly on the window ledge, catching its beetle-breath.

It's better that it stays out, and so I leave the window closed. If by sheer will and miracle it managed to break through the glass, it would still have to contend with the rotating blades that hang from the ceiling and guards the light.

And even if it somehow maneuvers its way through, the light itself, the very thing that it seeks, would burn it.

Good Ol' Days

2008-11-13T00:13:00.002+08:00

Came home to my room yesterday and was greeted by the sight of piles of my possessions which had been evicted from my cupboard and a note from my mum to "sort out my stuff". Apparently my cupboard shelves had collapsed from their weight.

Procrastinated awhile, then finally got down to doing it. Basically, I threw away things. Went through quite alot of old stuff like notes, scribbles, post cards and letters. I could feel a creeping of nostalgia but a part of me felt distant and alienated from it all. I smiled a little at a few of these words whilst others I merely glanced over.

When I was done looking through the pile, I hesitated, then cast them into the bin. For words can mean much, but they are just words.

Rationalising

2008-11-02T20:33:00.002+08:00

It's what makes this sad, delusional reality of a world go round.

Tommy Emmanuel

2008-11-02T00:56:00.004+08:00

Still kicking ass on the guitar. This year's show was short, but sweet. New songs, new skills and new jokes. Also bought his new CD and got it signed. They actually stopped people from taking photos with him because the queue was too long and he had to fly to Moscow at 2am, to the disappointment of brand new fanboy Derric.

Still, being Singaporeans some still tried to sneak in a shot here and there, which was quite amusing. And then there was the ticketing disaster before the show started which involved multiple people getting the same seats due to the block not stated on the tickets. Quite funny watching people move up at down trying to find their proper seats while we both sat on what was rightfully ours, arms folded.

Also managed to find a copy of THIS in a small little shop at Peninsula Plaza. Quite shocked when the shopkeeper literally just pulled it off the shelf when I asked if he had anything Joe Pass. No doubt I'll be visiting him again sometime soon.

2008-10-24T14:11:00.001+08:00

tommy emmanuel on wednesday hurray. If only my leave status next week wasn't so retarded, next week would be okay.

Hamburger blues

2008-10-12T21:01:00.002+08:00

I remember a time when
burgers fitted my hands,
feeling all warm and snugly
in my palms, Remember
that sense of fullness and well-being,
when I'd swallow the last bite.

But as of lately,
the burgers have shrunk and
I now hold them gingerly
by the fingertips,
afraid of them crumbling.

A few bites and it's gone,
leaving me neither full nor hungry
enough for another
and I wonder,

are the hands bigger or
the burgers smaller?
But either way it barely matters,
for I still toss in bed at night,
cold, restless, dissatisfied,
thinking about how things used
to be.

A tragedy of growing up and marketing trends.

Time issues

2008-10-08T19:16:00.004+08:00

Aside from attending a free (and dodgy) money making seminar with 8 to 5 Lum, bumming around at Derric's house and noodling around on my poorly maintained guitar in between, I spent my off days this week doing pretty much nothing else, just waiting to go back in again. There wasn't even enough time to do nothing.

As if you could kill time without injuring eternity! - I hear Thoreau shout and perhaps it's time to find, or refine, my daily pursuits.

Be back out to try again in 24 hours.

UPDATE 10/10/08: epic fail.

Day I Found Myself

2008-10-07T22:55:00.003+08:00

It was maybe mid morning as I walked along the beach. There was a light sea breeze wandering about in the salty air and the sun was warmer than I would've liked it. I strolled about aimlessly at the edge of the water, where the waves lapped at my bare feet and I'd feel the sand being washed away. Perhaps I was looking in the wrong place, I thought. But this was the beach. It had to be the beach.

I walked past people playing volleyball, you could see they weren't really good at it as they spent most of the time running off to pick the ball. Polite laughter as one of the giggly girls hit the ball out of the court again. Their everlasting summer, you could see it fading fast as one of the guys hurried to fetch the ball whilst the rest watched and waited restlessly.

I squinted my eyes as the sun emerged from behind a cloud, its reflection off the pearly sands nearly blinding me for a moment. The world had gotten much brighter now and it suddenly seemed like years since it had been this clear. I looked around to see if anyone else shared this revelation, but alas, all eyes were behind shades, their cool and straight faces showing no sign of notice. Oh well.

Moving on, I came across an empty dock, that is, empty except for a lone boy who was sitting in the morning sun, gazing out into the sea. You couldn't really tell what he was looking at, perhaps watching the ships roll in or the tides rolling away.The boards creaked as I strode along it and it seems he had been waiting for me, as he gestured shyly for me to join him.

I asked where he came from. He could only tell me that he had wandered very far, over land and sea until he'd found this place and decided to take a stop. Initially we talked of many things, fools and kings, but as the morning went on, it seemed that the words got in the way and soon our conversation became a silent one, with occasional whistling. Till the evening came, a fine day it was, just me and myself, sitting on the dock of the bay, wasting time.

an attempt at writing so that I can make song references.

Wants

2008-09-28T19:31:00.001+08:00

What it's Worth

2008-09-28T00:33:00.002+08:00

A hefty load upon my back,
the sun at high noon.
We marched,
with nary a wind
knoll after knoll,
the mid-summer heat
reducing us to the
walking half-dead.

Oh if only I'd known,
what awaited me at the top:
An endless view of rolling green,
from my quaint improvised shelter
(Ten minutes, some bamboo and a sheet)
flapping in the cool summer breeze.

Foggy mornings alone atop the ridge,
hard biscuits turn heavenly in the gold of dawn
and I watch the world go by its business
whilst waiting to be hungry again.

Afternoon, we chat a little about life
and then I'd take a nap
under the cool shade,
ah.. the scent of green oranges,
like the days of my youth.

And in the dark cool evenings,
bright city lights bloom one by one
in a distance but
never really outshining the stars,
which hang above in strange ancient patterns.

Oh if only I'd known,
I'd pick up that pack
and walk those roads,
up and down those knolls
in the sweltering heat,
all over again.
This time with a smile on my face.

I wish I had pics for this one.

Digressing

2008-09-21T01:02:00.003+08:00

The Life and Struggles of Man.

I was gonna write something else but then I found this picture. It so poignantly depicts the Good Man's lifelong struggles against a cruel and heartless world and how sometimes, we are completely at the mercy of circumstances and situations beyond our control, like ants in a sink. (I'm the guy behind the tree)

A few minutes later, some dude carrying a rickety gadget resembling a chainsaw on a pole came over and helpfully sliced the WHOLE branch of the tree off, thus freeing our kite line.

As we thanked the dude, I couldn't help but glance at the tree's amputated arm, twisted and splintered on one end. It would lay there unnoticed for weeks till someone cleared it away or months till it rotted into insignificance. Not that it would make a difference. Off the few who did take notice of it's presence during it's final moments on this earth, none would ever know its story.

Maybe we do deserve it.

back pain

2008-09-14T19:55:00.001+08:00

ah i got back pain.

This is This

2008-09-07T21:26:00.002+08:00

Sometimes I just feel like that and I do things like that and that's just the way it is.

Like that scene from The Deer Hunter,
"This is this. This ain't something else. This is this."

Stan doesn't know what it means, but to Mike, it makes all the sense in the world.

Stories

2008-08-28T18:10:00.002+08:00

At the End of a Day

When the trinkets and treasures we so fervently sought
seem to have lost their novelty and become merely
trinkets and treasures.

When our precious thoughts we so wanted to tell and write
suddenly seem, too sacred and profound to ever exist
beyond our unfathomable minds.

Then for what did we struggle through it all?
We return stumbling, out of the bush,
worn and weary,
empty-handed.

To sit round the warm orange embers
on a fine Autumn's night
because we'll have Stories to tell.

A friend of mine had this concept, which brought him through many tough times. I tried putting it into words.

Empty words

2008-08-16T22:47:00.003+08:00

I'm back from Taiwan and my course is as good as over. Usually at this time, people would be expected to talk about experiences they've had and the things they've learned. But I can't help but feel that throughout these weeks, I've lost more than I've gained. And I'm not talking about money. Or my weight.

Perhaps things are catching up with me now.

Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming

-Bob Dylan in Tambourine Man

A Firing Of Blanks.

2008-07-21T13:49:00.003+08:00

Prologue

The mid-afternoon sun pierced through the canopy of the rainforest, cunningly snaking its way through gaps and openings of the branches and leaves in which its scorching beams shone through. The bed of undergrowth baked under this heat and released its moisture into the air. Quite content with this change of state, the vapour found no reason to trouble itself by trying to break out of the canopy and neither did it care that it was getting crowded.

The sound of crackling leaves and rustling bushes intruded into the cicada's song as a section of soldiers wrestled with endless entanglements of root, vines and the occasional rogue bush. Every few steps, one of them would mutter a curse, either at a thorny branch or the ridiculous heat. On the map, it had seemed like a simple patrol mission from point A to B but just an hour into it and any semblance of morale was already non-existent.

Body

Almost there, said the sergeant for the fiftieth time now. We're almost there. He knew that his words were of no comfort to the men, but what else could he do? More beads of sweat trickled down the side of his forehead and he paused for a second to wipe it with his sleeve. His cheek hurt a little from the rough fabric of his fatigues. The men behind him leaned on the trees, panting.

The surroundings bore little hint of their location but he noticed a strip of sparseness in the canopy ahead, telltale signs of a track. Finally. Fumbling with his side pouch, he managed to pull out his map with some effort and confirmed that there was indeed, a track ahead. The track in fact. The one that would get them the heck out of here.

The men groaned as he gestured to them to move on. Almost there, he told them. This invited more groans. A few minutes later and they came out, almost stumbling, onto a dirt path. The point man was dead for a good five seconds before anyone realised that the deafening rat-a-tat was actually machine gun fire. Strangely, no one really seemed to care that one of their best buds was gone forever and that they were down to six now. The only thought on everyone's mind was: This is it, this is it.

The sergeant was prone on the ground, eyes desperately scanning the grounds to attain some form of situational awareness. His first thought was of Hendrix, looping the Machine Gun riff in his head. They had instinctively fallen back into the bush now to take cover. The dead private still lay on the dirt path, a mess of blood and guts. Machine gun yeah, tearing my body all apart. There they are, the bastards. On the other side of the track, vegetation was sparse and about a hundred meters away he could see the muzzle flash of the machine gun.

They were pinned down and the enemy was closing in on their hiding spots as more and more bullets whizzed across their heads, shredding the leaves and bush around them. Bits of branches and leaves poured onto the men's helmets. Cries of fear came from the men around him as they hid their heads and waited for their turn to die. Pile on suppressing fire! he shouted to them even though he knew it was pointless. Gunfire was so intense that they could barely raise their heads without losing it. And then, silence: The MG was reloading.

Without thinking, he ordered the team to charge and they complied with surprising quickness. The same way you shoot me down, baby you'll be going just the same. Across the dirt path, through the forest, they ran even after the MG had reloaded and was continuing its sweep. He saw two or three of his men stumble and fall, either by bullet or branch, but his eye was focused on the MG team, which had now come into view. The second-in-command and automatic gunner had already gone in by the left flank and were unloading their rounds on the enemy. One was already dead on the ground while the gunner was still pivoting the machine gun from side to side on the tripod, desperately trying to clear the advancing section.

As he closed in, he raised his rifle and took aim at the closest soldier.

Evil man make you kill me,
Evil man make me kill you,
Even though we're only families apart.

He squeezed the trigger but all he heard was a click. Alas, his rifle was jammed.

Epilogue

The forest was still and silent except for the sound of party poppers. A section of soldiers were formed up in a line, furiously firing blanks, straight ahead. Once in a while, the sergeant would shout for his section to advance and they would get up and run to the next tree or bush.

A corporal watched the blade of grass in front of his muzzle sway back and forth as he unleashed a torrent of carbon gas onto it. The grass nodded in agreement. Unseen to the him was a wild boar sleeping in a nearby bush. It rose its head for a moment to observe the commotion, then went back to digesting the half-eaten combat rations it had found strewn on the ground earlier this morning.

One of the men could be heard cursing as he lugged a humongous tube on his back that was the anti-tank weapon to the next position. Throwing the tube on the floor, he collapsed clumsily behind a tree and continued his firing, which did not happen till more than a minute later when he had finally extracted a round that was stuck in the chamber using his bare fingers, for he had forgotten to bring his jack knife. At times, an awkward silence would be heard when all of the weapons malfunctioned or ran out of ammo at the same time.

When the whistle was finally blown, the men wearily dragged themselves towards the sergeants position where they would evaluate their "performance". Ostensibly, their faces were expressionless but it wouldn't be wrong to call it a look of boredom, vivid and pure. Anyone else forgot to bring anything? asked the sergeant, who had just finished reprimanding the anti-tank gunner for not bringing his jack knife.

The men merely shifted uncomfortably in their positions and the sergeant sighed. He knew that he was being harsh but things had to be done according to the SOP. If no one did it then what were they there for?

I forgot to bring my soul, muttered the corporal. I forgot to bring it.

A few sniggers were heard from the men and the sergeant was ready to give a light kick to this wise-cracker when he looked into the corporal's eyes and realised, it was the truth. He searched himself and discovered that hadn't brought his own either. But it had been by no slipping of the mind.

That's okay, you don't need it anyway, he told the glaze-eyed young man. It ain't a mission essential. Like a lonely man in a cinema who has just watched a rather bad movie, the wind broke its silence and gave a sigh, thereafter retreating into quiet contemplation. The sergeant gave orders to reorganise and they continued with their training for the rest of the afternoon. It was a practice of motions. A rehearsal of murder. A simulation of destruction.

A firing of blanks.

edited again 16/8/08

Going Camping

2008-07-13T19:52:00.007+08:00

"Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat."
-Theodore Roosevelt

Went to watch the juniors race at the nationals on friday. There were many faces on the race grounds that day. Faces of Aspiration. Excitement. Determination.

And I realised, with some poignancy, how long it been since I had seen these faces.

busy or lazy

2008-06-29T01:34:00.001+08:00

will write something substantial soon. =/

shortlived

2008-06-08T19:12:00.003+08:00

Spent most of the day working on an arrangement of sesame street for the ukulele.

Some helicopter thing, 10km run, field camp and live firings next week. Sounds quite tiring but I guess we'll pull through it like every other week.

My Foray into Noir Fiction. Part Five.

2008-05-30T17:50:00.003+08:00

Previously.

Two weeks later and there he was again, standing in front of my desk with a gun to his head. How he'd gotten the gun, I had no idea. You could never really tell what Timmy was going to come up with next. You could only hope that by then you were far far away.

"I'm at my wits end, only you can help me now."

"I don't remember you having any wits in the first place, Tim."

"Shut up. I'm serious this time."

"As serious as the time you said you were going to join the Avengers?"

"If you can't help me, I'm pulling it. There's no other way out for me."

His index finger was wrapped tightly around the trigger, the barrel pointing to the side of his head. I noticed how drenched in sweat he was, especially around the armpits. The sweat stains seemed to form a strange, symmetrical face-like pattern on his light yellow shirt and it suddenly occurred to me that I had never seen Timmy sweat before.

"Well I know you're not going to. You don't have the GU-"

BAM.

And Timmy was dead, just like that.

If this was a novel, the chapter would have ended right there and then near the top of the page, leaving a blank space at the bottom for the reader to contemplate over this shocking turn of events. But for some reason, I didn't feel a thing. The sight of Timmy's head jerking to the side from the impact of the bullet, the spray of blood, his body falling onto the floor, without the slow-mo effects, it all just seemed 'usual', like watching a ball roll off a table.

I waited for a few minutes, then stood up from my chair and walked over to the body. Even in death, Timmy was still a neat-nik. His body was spread out on the floor in the exact position of any chalk outline you might've seen at a crime scene. A TV crime scene, to be exact.

A small puddle of blood was taking it's time growing beneath his head. The gun was stilled gripped, though much more relaxed now, in his left hand. The bullet wound was a neat little hole through his head and blood was already starting to clot, making it looked more like an over-sized blister. You could've put the scene in a kid's movie and no one would have given a damn.

I looked at the clock on the wall of my office. It was just past midnight. I sighed for no real reason at all. Maybe I felt that the room had gone too quiet. I gave some thought to what had just happened. My best friend, or rather, my only friend, had just killed himself. I had a dead body in front of my feet. Someone was going to have to clean up the blood stains. And the bullet, going clean through his head, had broken my window.

This was probably going to be my worst birthday ever.

wtfpwned

2008-05-11T02:24:00.002+08:00

My faith in the goodness of Man has been greatly shaken. Got totally ripped off at our dear old Sim Lim Square whilst trying to fix my computer. It's only been 2 years and I can't tell between the pci's, agp's and vga's anymore, not to mention I totally let that Indian chap pull a fast one on me by not bothering to counter check prices with the other dealers. I even nicely let him keep the change.

Going back tomorrow for a rematch.

A-OK

2008-05-04T14:24:00.002+08:00

Only 2 more weeks to passing out. Ah, life is good. Hoping for a miracle in posting but ASLC seems almost certain for me.

Weekends

2008-04-27T17:41:00.002+08:00

Really feeling the burn this week, with almost the whole Saturday sucked up by live firing. Slept in today and a few hours later, here I am.

Been playing the ukulele recently and I now find myself torn between it and the guitar. Initially, I thought it would be a fill-in for lack of guitar and it's portability meant that I could easily stash it in the cupboard or under my bed in camp. After a few hiccups in finding a playable one, I finally found a half decent piece suitable for honing my chops. Having two strings less than a guitar, you'd think it as a lesser counterpart to the guitar but alas, the beauty lies in the simplicity of four-strings and it's bright sandy beach sound. Think I'll be leaving my trusty old Yamaha acoustic on the stand for awhile.

I want to go to Hawaii one day.

Here I Am

2008-04-20T11:41:00.002+08:00

We were falling in on the road after lunch the other day. As usual, we were slightly late which led to some members of the platoon being stressed and one such fellow imposed a question onto Shaun, who had carelessly left a gaping hole in the file which ruined the formation.

Guy: Where are you!?

Shaun: I am here.

I guess a straightforward question deserves a straightforward answer. Nevertheless, much laughter and amusement followed and it was probably moment of the week for me.

Sometimes, all it takes is for us to say "Here I am." What more is needed to justify our existence? Not all the time do we need to think we are undeserving or inadequate to receive the love of God. On the contrary, we lose sight of Him in our struggle to climb a mountain that can never be overcome in a lifetime. He calls out, but we reject Him, saying wait, let me get there and then we can speak and forgetting that he is not waiting for us at the top of the peak, but climbing it with us. How can He help us get to where we want to go if we won't even tell Him where we are?

Interesting how the whole idea of Here I Am has been hounding me over the past week in army life, daily devotions and bible study.

On to other parts of life, Queen musical was a decent watch. Great music but plagued by a lousy ending and lack of any climatic scenes. Got the cheapest tickets which weren't that bad. Noticed some families which left the show halfway. Must've been too much of a shock for the children when they were suddenly exposed to the pr0n and nudity (statues). After the show we discussed Freddie's overflowing gayness in the song Don't Stop Me Now, such as having a ball and being a rocket ship to Mars, where men are from. Radio Ga Ga and the B.Rhapsody solo got stuck in my head for the whole week amidst the jungle bashing and 2.4km IPPT run.

Can't help but feel that as my NS life goes by, certain groups of friends just seem to be inevitably disappearing. The image of Chee Heng trying to do the swing trainer comes to mind, as he reaches out to the next bar, but alas his arms are too short and despite having a look of constipation on his face, he still loses grip on the previous bar, falling into the sand pit in quiet disappointment.

So, Can I Have Some?

2008-04-13T11:28:00.003+08:00

Prologue.
I'll always remember that fateful night, when the four of us were sitting round a table in the wee hours of the morning pondering upon what life had in store for us and wondering what to get from the counter next. Although we had the whole night, we had already tried the whole buffet and options were running out.

The Story.
It seemed that the night had come to an inevitable end. Food at the tables were becoming scarce and even the barbecued skewered meat on bamboo sticks with a fragrant peanut dipping sauce on the side of which we had helped ourselves to generously was starting to get old. We needed something new, something fresh.

As if to answer out prayers, a smell of sweet, sweet vanilla and eggs wafted through the air like a siren's song and we found ourselves craning our necks in desperate search of the source. The sight of flapjacks being flipped skillfully by the master chef was enough to drive us mad with desire. Utterly entranced by the scent, one amongst us set forth bravely, plate in hand to procure the fluffy delights.

The chef, surprised by his approach, gave the initial refusal to share the bounty, claiming that it was meant for the breakfast menu. No doubt he already had other plans in mind for his hotcakes, probably one that involved a staff-only room and new age music. However, our young adventurer was undeterred and saw through his trickery, for it was but three in the morning and breakfast did not begin till seven. Without skipping a beat, he replied, "So, can I have some?"

It seems that the pluckiness of youth was too much for this stubborn man to bear and he reluctantly parted with the tasty morsels. The young boy, now made a man, returned in triumph with a steaming plate of pancakes and was warmly welcomed by our jubilant cheers of victory. Till this day, I can still remember my first bite into those wheels of joy, fluffy and syrupy and all.

It was like manna from heaven.

Epilogue.
The table beside us made an attempt to get their share of pancakes too, no doubt jealous of our success and celebration. However, they were too late, for the chef was not to be determined not to be foiled twice. What's more, they lacked the vigour and spirit of our merry bunch and as expected, returned empty-plated.

As for us, we did try for a second helping but it was too late, for the siren had disappeared into the depths along with the bag of pancake mix. Pancakes just never seemed the same after that. Yes, we still enjoyed some "decent" ones here and there in the months after but incomparable they were, to those we had that night.

The incident, which we decided to call "So, Can I Have Some" also became a frequent topic in our conversations but for reasons unknown, none of us ever suggested returning to the place. Maybe we thought that once was enough, or maybe we were afraid, yes afraid, of disappointment. What is certain however, is that none of us will ever forget that night.

With Pride We Need, Sixpacks

2008-03-29T11:51:00.002+08:00

Resistance is Fertile

Amidst,
Endless torrents of angry shouting
Stern faces and a grave warning.

Amidst,
Order, order says the dude beside
As timmy in front goes on backslide.

Amidst,
Their faces straight, though their minds are not
A resentful past, not to be forgot.

There are chuckles and laughter, hearty and loud,
from the back, and futility dies.

Credits to Shaun for the title, which as he described it, came to him "as if God reached out from the Heavens with a hand and put in in his head." Specialist training has been rather tough so far, with the many canteen breaks, afternoon naps and jogging on the spot that we have to go through. At least that's for the first week. Not expecting a status quo though.

Personal Qualities

2008-03-19T16:35:00.002+08:00

"an ardous task that involved removing bird droppings from the upper roof of the facility."

Just noticed this on my Personal Qualities sheet. Should be worth at least a +5 to community service.

Merciful

2008-03-08T22:45:00.002+08:00

Much ought to be said about the mercy and grace of God but I think my A level grades sum it up quite nicely.

After 3 weeks of false alarms, I finally found myself in the school hall waiting for my slip. Experienced a variety of emotions when Ms K finally handed it to me after some rambling about my absence (late) from the hall earlier. In order of appearance:

1. Disbelief- That I had nothing below a B.

2. Joy- Hooray.

3. Gratefulness- To God for being so merciful and saving me time and again (O levels, Promos, A levels) despite me always being ungrateful and complacent, not learning from my mistakes. Felt like I was being given a 9871245245240891-th chance at life.

4. Guilt- Upon realisation that it was by God's grace alone that I, the undeserving fool made it through.

5. Helplessness- For I didn't really dare to confront those who didn't do that well. I guess I'm not that good at words when it comes to comforting people and I felt really helpless just standing there watching some of my friends crying. There was also an awkward situation involving an inquiry into someone's results which I literally ran away from because of an unexpected reaction.

6. Confusion- Beh!? I had seriously made preparations for the worst but the unexpected circumstances I now found myself in was overwhelming.

7. Disappointment- An issue of my pride, which I should not be bothered with having already been blessed with such a miracle. But still, I thought about what I could have achieved if I had bothered to study harder.

And so the A levels are really all over now and for the better or for the worst, there is nothing I can do about anything.

Watch Fixing..

2008-02-08T10:47:00.000+08:00

was an epic failure. Getting a new watch.

Don't know why I'm making such a fuss about this. Maybe I'm just ticked off by the fact that it stopped working within the first week of training and that my attempts to merely change the battery (first step to fixing it) has resulted in a most definitely voided warranty, not due to my incompetence but because of its poor design and cheap price.

Pensive

2008-02-03T17:33:00.001+08:00

Was actually going to write something substantial but time pulled a fast one on me. Need to pack my stuff and attempt to fix my watch (lifespan: one week) before I go back in later.

Like I always say, God help us all.

NS

2008-01-27T14:24:00.000+08:00

time is flexible

Maybe I'll write some poetry in NS.

KKS

2008-01-10T22:51:00.000+08:00

Chanced upon my secondary 1 and 2 form teacher, Mr. Khoo Khay Soon today. It was kind of a surreal experience because he looked the same and was wearing the same attire AND expression on his face that our class will always remember him for.

On a related note, I also chanced upon this, a blog set up by some cat high boy(s) in an effort to rally against the hair-snipping school authority. Must commend him/them for his/their vision of liberating the masses from sloped hair but sadly, no one is going to give a shit about it after awhile. Soon, they'll realise that things like that just ain't worth fighting for. (If you consider blog ranting as fighting) Even if they get to keep their hair long, they still have to wear the green shorts. And that's a -500 to street cred. A year later, they'll be in pre-u education, where people don't care about hair that much. Few more years and no hair at all. Poof! Story of my life.

Some choice quotes from Mr. anti-establishment (Fyi, GKY is the discipline dude):

-"I'm going to rebel against GKY

Signing off,
Justice Fringe-less"

And a few days later:

-"On the other hand i passed the RE hair check ! AHAHAHAHAHA"

So much for rebellion I guess.

let it be

2008-01-07T00:12:00.000+08:00

i want to but my right eye is screwed up.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

argh frikkin eye.

Since I was Eight

2008-01-01T12:19:00.000+08:00

I remember wanting to drive
(going down to work, thinking of this)
how awesome and exciting
(exit left ahead)
it would be.
(red light. tapping the dashboard)

Couldn't wait to grow older
(craning the neck. search for parking)
get my hands on that license
(still no parking)
wowee, I'll be free.
(parallel parking. need no thinking)

Now I can drive
(shut the engine)
and I am older
(lock the doors)
and I am free.
(some kids speed by)

On their shiny bikes.
(I've got a job)
Past the traffic
(in a cubicle doing finances)
going places.
(but suddenly i want to be a kid again)

No Winners This Time

2007-12-28T11:55:00.000+08:00

TAKESHI'S CASTLE.

General Lee, the man's man leads the hordes of farmer militia to storm Count Takeshi's Castle. Watched this quite a bit while in Germany. Apparently it get's funnier as you grow older because I don't remember laughing as much when it aired over here a long time ago.

Cakewalk

2007-12-26T01:52:00.000+08:00

Oscar Peterson joins the great gig in the sky?

Obertauern

2007-12-22T00:33:00.000+08:00

Back in Oberursel after 5 day trip to Austria to ski at a place called Obertauern. Drive there takes about half a day, which meant that only 3 days were spent skiing. Seriously though, skiing is the most awesome thing in the world, other than snowboarding.

Couldn't be bothered to take much pictures since my hp camera doesn't do the scenery much justice.

Intruiging sculpture at a rest station on the way there

Landscape starts turning white

There

Alcoholic Tea, which is a specialty. Didn't taste the tea. Didn't finish it either.

Lousy pic

Less lousy pic, showing 1% of the entire area. Sprained my wrist on red slope near the top left.

Had a major wipeout on the last day of skiing around noon. Shouldn't have gone down one of the intermediate slopes so readily. Tumbled for about 10 seconds before landing off piste, with my head and leg hitting something hard along the way. The result? Stitches on my left knee and under my chin. Was pretty cool to see part of my knee bone for the first time.

My conclusion for this trip? God created snow for skiing. Can't wait to get back one day.

Frankfurters

2007-12-15T04:54:00.000+08:00

Been in Germany for a few days, in a town called Oberursel. Been around the area abit, up some nearby mountain(snow there), the town, the mall and and completed Gears of War on my cousin's xbox 360. Yeap. That's about it. Going to Austria on Sunday for skiing and stuff.

Haven't had much frankfurters, but the schnitzels are good.

At Dubai airport for stopover. I bought one because everyone had one.

Menu at a Cafe. Feel linguistically challenged.

Just ducks. Remind me of Derric's rabbit for some reason.

You can get these everywhere.

Snow on the mountain and a geriatric.

Shop which sells coffee and electronics.

Authentic European town

Fan art.

My Foray into Noir Fiction. Part Four.

2007-12-06T01:50:00.000+08:00

Previously.

A few morphine shots later and he was Timmy again. Or so it seemed. "Damn, Timmy. You really should carry more of these around. I used up all you had on you" I said, tossing the syringes behind me in a nonchalant manner which I thought would convey the idea that I was used to giving impromptu shots to schizophrenic nutjobs.

"Whatever, thanks anyway" he said. "So, I heard. You're opening again eh? Well, I've got something that should interest you. And I'm prepared to pay too."

He finished by slamming a two-dollar bill onto the table. I don't know how he did that, he just did. Timmy just had a way of doing things few others could pull off.

"Gee Tim, I'm not so sure. My gas to drive here cost more than that."

A little persuasion would be necessary, it seemed, if I was to get anything out of this. It was an art, like how an experienced angler knows when to move his bait. Avoid the small ones, go straight for the big.

"I know you don't drive," came the reply.

"Oh really."

"Yea."

"And so you were saying-"

But the damage was done. I knew that this moment would be an object of torment for the many sleepness nights to come. How the greatest defeats arrive from the smallest of mistakes, a kingdom for a horseshoe.

"Ok Matt, look here. I suspect my girl is at it again, and I need evidence. Pictures, videos, anything."

"Oh come on, let her go. She's been cheating on you since last year. I thought you'd be the first to know. Or maybe Jim or Carl or Andrew or whatever you become on other days of the week."

In my opinion, there are two things in life that make a man poor, fast women and slow horses. Timmy had both. His venture into horse betting had been a disaster and now Sally was running off with his dough.

"Hey I've got to help her! That man she's going our with, he's a con!"

"No, Sally's the con. Dammit Tim, the only reason she's still with you is because she gets to sleep with a different man every night. She's nothing but a thieving slut."

"Don't you call her that! If you can't help me, I'll find someone who can!"

"Fine by me. I do crime, not girlfriend spying."

He walked out. I sat there alone, sipping up the final drops of my Tall Mocha Frappucino®. The two-dollar bill was gone too. As Timmy disappeared around the corner, I leaned back in the chair and sighed. Damn. Should have ordered a Venti.

The entire series is sequence rather than plot driven. Sometimes an idea comes up and I decide to save it for a later part but for this one, I put all the ideas I had into it, though some were still left out due to context. Don't know if there'll be another one, since the purpose of this whole piece of junk was so that I could use that last line, which expresses the frustration of finishing a less than adequately sized drink.

A short one

2007-12-05T13:40:00.001+08:00

Back from canoing chalet, which lasted five days. Went back to the motherland yesterday to see my grandparents, graduation night tonight, class chalet tomorrow, church camp after, then off to Frankfurt to eat frankfurters.

Fly on, time, fly you damned bird.

Old Acquaintances

2007-11-27T03:18:00.001+08:00

Ripping off from Tan Weilie, whom I have not seen or spoken too for very long, "It is 'A'ccomplished".

Thanks Weilie, you have unknowingly offered me some amusement throughout these trying times with your ever cheesy but sincere 'A' nicknames on msn.

Imagining other Worlds

2007-11-21T23:30:00.001+08:00

I Thought I Ought to Know

I have no idea what's going on,
And neither do they
when I do ask.
But I just thought
I outta know. What all
this means.

These cacophonies of light,
stuff me with
a blur of meaningless
wavelengths.
I can tell violet from red-

The bludgeoning of sound,
leaves me with
painless bruises,
but there nevertheless.
I know jingle from jangle-

But I just thought
I outta know. What all
this means.

And the people,
Oh it's the worse.
I merely listen
to the babble,
merely comprehend.
And emotions, all that
joy, sadness,
love and hate,
Jimmy shouted and
Mom baked me a cake.
I know them all, but
I just thought
I outta know, what all
this means.

My mind goes dizzy,
when I think of this world.
Dizzy from blankness.
All I'm knowing is
I don't really wake up
in the mornings no more.

My Imagining other Worlds (a levels +6 days) poem. Thought of it while trying to sleep without moving in a shared bed with Lim Chuan En. And I don't really know how I'm going to pull off monday at this rate.

lit, econs, econs

2007-11-14T21:07:00.000+08:00

They call it stormy Monday,
but Tuesday's just as bad.
Wednesday's worse,

Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy on me.

Just some quotes from a T-Bone Walker song

arghh

2007-11-08T23:48:00.000+08:00

Not enough studying being done. Need to grit my teeth and pull up my socks.

Tomorrow.

This is for Yew

2007-11-06T22:43:00.000+08:00

Grace.

A mere whisper of
her name, evokes,
countless intrinsic values
through the mind.

But more! Armed with
a smile, of a wideness
matched only by her generosity,
such joy to those with her!

And light in every way,
she is the lone midnight lamp
with its comforting glow,
and those magnificent fireworks
to the tune of Auld Lang Syne.

How could I, mere invertebrate,
ever compare? As I crawled
in her shadow. ARGH!
PAIN!- And a familiar smile
(upside-down frown) above,
stranger and fading to red. black.

But how? A heart of gold,
and yet so cold-

A panegyric of sorts. I'm only half serious but if you do decide to kill me too, I can only hope it will be a quick and painless one like Xiao Hei's

Health Issues

2007-11-06T01:13:00.000+08:00

Made these with mella in mind. And my own weight is getting dangerously close to 70kg.

A levels

2007-11-04T16:16:00.001+08:00

The exams have been rather fun and exciting.

God help us all.

Ok

2007-10-30T17:44:00.000+08:00

1849 Steps...

Of Regret-Yes 1849, I counted.
Steps up? Down? Where?
Away, steps away.

In a fleeting instance, a choice made,
like kids choosing soda, or a lemonade.
But far graver the consequence, that day,
that day I chose, to walk away.

First step taken, I could not turn back,
oh that bitter, bitter regret.
Every step a burdened gained,
forward to backwards,
walking in vain.

1849 later, wrenched myself around,
scurrying, stumbling all
the way back.

And then just empty benches, a fat lady whistling
and 1849 steps back.

I'm writing a bunch of poetry, hoping it will boost my lit grades. This one's about walking and stuff.

Cicak-Man

2007-10-26T10:36:00.000+08:00

Justice has a new Face.

I realised that as a Malaysian, I should be supporting and promoting my local films.

He's almost as good as Man-man.

Gam Zeh Yaavor

2007-10-13T00:43:00.000+08:00

Gam Zeh Yaavor.

And This too, shall pass.

Yes, even this too will pass.

For such is the bleakness and awesomeness of life.

Nothing really lasts. Two years have gone by in a snap, just like that. Good times, bad times, all fade away into the dumpyard called the past, where we can only stand outside the locked gates, catching glimpses of the piles of stuff behind it.

I still vaguely remember time I first contemplated about the impermanence of life when I was a kid. I thought about death and I don't think I got much sleep that night. The thought of non-existence affected me deeply. How small and fragile I was, struggling to stay afloat in the river of time, ready to be swept away without a moment's notice. And the thought of having no thought, the eternal void, where even the our human notions of nothingness can never comprehend, struck me greatly. Then morning came, I woke up, ate my breakfast, brush my teeth and went to school as usual.

Many years later, I no longer have that fear, thank God.

Thought I'd something more to say.

A levels

2007-09-26T23:17:00.000+08:00

Feeling like this cat. 4 and something weeks left? Looks like I'll just have to redefine time to get through this one.

argh.

2007-09-26T00:01:00.000+08:00

why do you keep tormenting me. argh.

Redefining "no-life"

2007-09-23T22:35:00.000+08:00

Due to a lack of activities available yesterday, a night was spent trying to squeeze as much amusement as possible out of whatever we could do. This is a story about that night.

First up was starving on a long bus ride to Ang Mo Kio which was agonising. Strolling around AMK Hub trying to find a place to eat wasn't very fun either. Needless to say, AMK Hub is ridiculously crowded and thus we ended up having to wander around finding foodcourts elsewhere.

And then there was this huge dragon dance thing which I haven't seen for ages so it was kinda cool. After some overrated fish soup noodles, went to the arcade to play a couple rounds of Daytone MAXXX edition, which features the ultra cool TURBO and MAXXXX buttons to remove all elements of skill and fairness from the game.

After emerging from the sleazy joint, we enjoyed glimpses of fireworks (yes real fireworks, don't know why) exploding beautifully behind a HDB block. Looked for about 5 seconds, then decided to try and catch a $5 movie at Eng Wah. After debating on what movie out of the 5 shows available to watch, we decided on one with a more mature theme. Put the money on the counter, asked how much it was. Turns out there's no $5 movies. Took our money and left. Little Kenneth had to leave early because of his curfew.

Went to Yishun, and wowee it was certainly our lucky day. Malaysian Getai King Wei Han Wen was playing a gig there for Lunar Fest 07. His signature "tremolo bar" vocals aka "dou ying" really blew the crowd away. Totally awesomeee.

The King condescends to engage in conversation with the out of job actor emcee

Couldn't shove my way to the moshpit up front. INTENSE.

Belting out heartbreaking renditions of 70s Malaysian classics

After failing to find some decent cheap flicks to rent, we went to Yuki-san's house. Played around with the exciting games on facebook and explored the wonderful world of online browser-based gaming whilst guzzling down bottles of yakult. Left at around 2am.

Yep, that's about it. I haven't felt this unproductive for some time.

Making Amends #1

2007-09-20T23:10:00.000+08:00

This one goes out to a certain David from Rosyth 6-06. Although this incident may barely register a bleep in the recesses of his mind, I still remember the incident like it was yesterday and there are nights I still toss and turn in bed thinking about it.

I was at the peak of my (short-lived) career as a magician, proudly displaying my skills to anybody who would be so bold as to surrender a coin to me and to watch it disappear before their very eyes, only to gasp in amazement as I brought it back again. David was one of them. Little did I know the trouble which would ensue.

So I was doing the usual routine and after my performance, placed the coin back on the table to thunderous applause. As I said, nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual routine. Moments later, he came up to me, demanding his coin back. I looked at the table and the coin was no longer there. The phrase that came up next I have never forgotten. "I saw you POCKET the coin!"

I checked my pockets, the breast pocket first as that was where I usually kept my loose change. I even dipped my hand, with difficulty, into my back pocket, which I rarely used. Nope, no coin. A heated argument ensued. I tried everything to prove my innocence, pulled in witnesses, emptied my belongings, calling him a dirty liar, but he still insisted that I had POCKETED the coin.

I was confused and puzzled, since I had no idea what had happened to the coin and how could he have seen me POCKET the coin, when I myself did not. (really, I didn't) What's more, I was now condemned as a thief for the first time in my life. Seeking justice, I decided to bring the matter up to a higher authority: Mr. Siva Kumar Menon, Form Teacher. I pleaded innocence while David consistently claimed that I POCKETED the coin.

Good old Siva told us to stop bickering and go back to our seats. That was it. No jury, no witnesses, no crime scene examinations. Not even a lie test. I was never proved innocent, David never got his coin back, the thief probably still at large this very day.

And so David, although you may never read this, I sincerely apologise for the trouble I caused and understand the distress you must have been going through over your loss. Believe me, If I had one opportunity to go back in time, I would use it to deliver the coin safely into your hands after performing my feat. Till today, I still claim innocence and I hope that perhaps one day, you will accept my word as truth and forgive me.

The object that started it all.

Celebrating the joys of life

2007-09-18T00:13:00.000+08:00

Prelims end TOMORROW!!!! HOORAY!!!! I SMELL PARTTTAAYYYYYYY!!!

SUM AWESOME PIX 4 CELEBRATION:

Still wishing I was more serious?

Proving Stuff:

2007-09-14T14:58:00.000+08:00

If the black void
was filled with the same
solemn stars.

Or the tree which fell
in the forest
always made a sound.

And age, old age,
the lone companian
to four-eyed maths whizzes on
their rocking chairs.

For silent are heroes' sighs
to the applauding audience,
as they ride
into a sequel-less sunset.

Oh how empty
the life of one who has
nothing

left to prove.

-me

After months of contemplation I have decided to start studying.

Zoso

2007-09-12T21:55:00.000+08:00

Smell some Led Zep coming up.

Thanks

2007-09-09T22:34:00.000+08:00

You don't really notice it at first, you think it's okay for them to forget to say it once in a while. Then you start appreciating how nice it is of them, because they don't say it much anymore. It comes less and less and you really light up when they express even a hint of it, because it's better than nothing. But not for long though, because soon they stop saying it at all. But the demands never change and you're just left feeling used.

But the Worse part is, you realise you're just like them.

Remember to say your thanks, kids.

Kwik Kwotes

2007-09-07T23:31:00.000+08:00

The force feed of macroeconomic contradictions and circular logics has left me drained.

So here's some Keynesian Kwik Kuotes:

"Education: the inculcation of the incomprehensible into the indifferent by the incompetent."

"The long run is a misleading guide to current affairs. In the long run we are all dead."

Ironic but sadly, they are irrelevant to my short run situation.

Blast from le past

2007-09-07T12:36:00.000+08:00

Over here.

I'm glad I quit wow. Things could be alot worse.

Joe Pass Virtuoso 1.

2007-08-31T19:00:00.000+08:00

Finally found a copy selling at a realistic price. Gramophone is just much more ethical than HMV, although it wasn't exactly dirt cheap either. Anyway after a listen through, I thus conclude that the album title is a remarkably fitting one. I don't usually use the word remarkably alot but whatever.

On hiatus

2007-08-28T21:30:00.000+08:00

Because I ran out of plot.

I saved someone with my umbrella today. At first, I felt some satisfaction from having done my good-deed-of-the-day. But then again, it wasn't as if I could've easily made a choice that would not utterly ravage my morals and beliefs. Not helping the person would have been the more challenging option. Sorry Robert, no less traveled roads for me today.

Moral of the story? Goodwill is overrated.

But do it anyway or you'll just be an asshole.

My Foray into Noir Fiction. Part Three.

2007-08-21T23:04:00.000+08:00

I sat down. Glanced around. The outside of the cafe was mostly empty, except for a couple of men in black suits and black hats tinkering with some odd black box a few tables away and an ostrich pecking at a bush. Good, no suspicious characters in the vicinity. Now I just had to wait for him to arrive. He came sooner than I expected.

It was four hours later. I remembered. I had been counting the number of seconds on my watch. 14267. Or was it 14532? The sound of approaching footsteps had torn me away from my little world of amusement. I looked up and there he was.

If I had to use one word to describe Timmy, it would be decent. He always stood up straight and tall, a respectable 1.53m. Never saw a hair out of place. His shirt was ironed as smooth as smooth gets, and so were his pants. His mom's work no doubt. I envied those symmetrical double knotted shoelaces, he'd never have to stoop over for a re-tie. Today, he was looking sad.

"Hey Tim, looking sad today."

"That's because I am" he replied gruffly.

I asked him why.

"Because I'm alive" he said.

I contemplated that nugget of wisdom. It was bitter. Obviously, things had taken a downturn for poor Timmy. Some screwed up stuff. But that was the way things were around here. Heck, this whole world was screwed up. Life is tragic. You win some, you lose some more. But Timmy was a tough guy. Behind the starched fabric was a hard, roughened spirit. He would get through this.

"Pull yourself together, Tim. No reason to spit at life just because it spat on you." Logic had not been a priority when I had said that and I regretted it.

"You don't understand Matt. I should've died out there. I shouldn't even be here."

"Shit man, what happened?"

"I.. I don't know man. I did exactly as they said. Aim for point between the bridge tower and smoke stacks! Eyes no close! There I was, heading straight for the point! Glory for the Emperor! I will not die in vain! HISSATSU! Then boom! Something hit my tail and i couldn't get back on course damn it! I just couldn't! The rudder was gone! I spun to the right and crashed into the sea and everything went black."

He broke down and started bawling, muttering some crap about "bushido honour" and his unbearable shame. Did I mention Timmy had mutiple personality disorder?

I looked down at the twitching, crumpled heap beside my chair. The ostrich was still here, pecking at a coffee cup on the ground. If there was one word that could describe Timmy, it was bat-fuck-insane.

My Foray into Noir Fiction. Part Two.

2007-08-16T23:59:00.000+08:00

Crossed the street with promptitude. Heck I didn't even know what I was rushing for, I just thought people always looked cool when in a hurry. Gives them an air of importance, man on a mission, always needed somewhere else. And needed fast. A deafening sound came from the right. Car horn.

Instinctively, I turned my head, just in time to see a car pass behind, missing me by inches. Cursing myself for cliche and lack of self-preservation, I stepped back up onto the curb, back onto land. The mini mall stood at the corner of the street. That's where I was standing. I located the cafe at it's side. Drawing a long, unnecessary sigh, I trudged towards an empty table on the sidewalk. It had been a long walk and things were only going to get worse. Possibly worse than Mr Brain's 4 Pork Faggots.

My foray into Noir Fiction. Part one.

2007-08-12T21:22:00.000+08:00

It was mid afternoon. That time of the day again. The hot breeze was blowing across the street, the debris it carried clinging on to my hair. Not like I cared. I had bigger problems to worry about then. Always been like that this time of year anyway. I should know. I've been through eighteen of them. Cloud above hinted a drizzle later on. Maybe a shower past midnight. But it was the least of my worries. I might as well be a weatherman, I thought with a hint of a smile as I continued my walk.

The building ahead grew larger as I neared it. Visual perception or something, they called it. But I had more than the Gestalt Laws of Organisation on my mind today. I quickened my pace. Time was short. To-do list was long. I quickened my pace. Again. Degenerative creativity alarm went off. No time for inventive vocab today, I told it, ripping out the plug for good measure. Time was short.

I'm sorry but I have to say this.

2007-08-08T23:57:00.001+08:00

National Day celebrations today. I won't even try to make it sound good by calling it boring. It was straight up pure agony to endure. Performances were okay but I still cringe at the thought of the in-between moments. I will stop here.

Argh

2007-08-03T23:54:00.000+08:00

Realised today that my weekend plans are kinda screwed up. I'm going to have to miss stuff I want for stuff I'm obliged to attend. CLASHCLASHCLASH. Coincidences can be so cruel.

I also wrote a short story on some desk today. I will reproduce it here.

Crushing Day-
And so I set out today,
feeling tough as a rock.
Stumbled, chipped, crushed,
I went home as dust,
adhesive dreams to patch me up.

WANT

2007-07-30T21:45:00.000+08:00

The Simpsons Movie

2007-07-29T22:52:00.000+08:00

I would've rather watched 3 Simpsons episodes but it's a decent movie anyway.

As an old friend would've said: "elp!" needhelptopassmyalevels and another weekend zooms by. I also sort of gave up the chance of getting $4000 in cash this week. Just didn't feel like it. I used to like money quite a lot but now I'm like just mehhh whatever.

More stuffs soon.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

2007-07-27T23:00:00.000+08:00

A decent read. Except for the fromage overdose epilogue, which was totally uncalled for. And severus takes his emo heroics to a whole new level!

libertad

2007-07-23T23:26:00.000+08:00

Supergroup rock band my ass. GNR come back plzzz.

Tommy Emmanuel Concert

2007-07-22T22:11:00.001+08:00

I give the it an 11/10.

Glenn who did not watch the concert popped up

He did ONE song with Paul after the concert, played a few licks and played drums for half a song.

King Lear

2007-07-20T01:01:00.001+08:00

Damn that was depressing, their lives really sucked like hell. We're living in a paradise. (relatively)

nope

2007-07-17T22:38:00.000+08:00

No improvements today whatsoever. Zilch.

Grandmaster Flash come back plzzzzz

2007-07-16T23:26:00.000+08:00

I'm so not in the mood to do anything anymore. Even the desire to play guitar sorta dies when the mum nags every time i make a sound. It seems that as a musician, my playing fails to touch people's hearts. Or maybe she'd just rather I hit the books more often, which I really should be doing right now. Damn pragmatism.

I really need more stuff to write about. Like complaining about chopping down the tree because drivers don't obey the speed limits. I mean, what's up with that? You break a law, you pay the price. Crash! As I remember, it's speed LIMIT, not RECOMMENDED speed. It's a freaking law. kkz I admit I don't agree with speed limits all the time, German highways sound way more fun but at least most of their drivers aren't retards there. Here? Speed limit FYB and noooo they don't want. Screw the rules, they've (gah-men) got money. Make them chop the tree. They really don't like Darwinism here I guess.

Looks like Live Earth wasn't so impactful afterall. Where are you Captain Planet? You were a hero, you were supposed to take pollution down to zero.

everything isn't meant to be ok, but that's ok.

2007-07-12T23:50:00.000+08:00

After 3 days, it comes to an end.

3 days, 3 races, that's all you'll ever get.

3 days, 3 races, that's all you'll ever need.

It was quite obvious from the start, I'm not the best rower there is. Heats and semis, I strained myself to pull through. I knew that crossing those finishing lines only meant getting closer to the real deal. The finals. I soon found myself in it. No doubt competition was very strong but I could never really bring myself to admit that I was out of their league until the very end. No point in doubting myself.

In the end, they weren't so far away afterall. All the time I've spent, the sacrifices, rolled into less than five minutes of pure intensity. Still, a 6th position, I was defeated and so were some of my teammates but I'm sure we've really made our presence felt this time. But that already brings the team is already one step closer to the medals for the next batch. Already we've gotten into five finals with one medal in just our second year of A divs. Hope to see the juniors really excelling next year even after we've left.

How many times
Do we tire of all the little battles
Threaten to call it quits
Tempted to cut and run

How many times
Do we weather out the stormy evenings
Long to slam the front door
Drive away into the setting sun

Keep going on till dawn
How many times must another line be drawn
We could be down and gone
But we hold on

How many times
Do we chaff against the repetition
Straining against the faith
Measured out in coffee breaks
How many times
Do we swallow our ambition
Long to give up the same old way
Find another road to take

Keep holding on so long
Cause theres a chance that we might not be so wrong
We could be down and gone
But we hold on

How many times
Do we wonder if it's even worth it
Theres got to be some other way
Way to get me through the day

Keep going on till dawn
How many times must another line be drawn
We could be down and gone
But we hold on

-by rush

SAJC Canoeing

And then God set up this amazing sunset for us to bask in its glory.

About apologising

2007-07-08T00:34:00.000+08:00

If sorry's no cure then I don't know what is.

Crushing day

2007-07-03T13:01:00.000+08:00

damn it ming tuan you really suck you had one last chance and you totally screwed it up zomg you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck you suck.

i got pwnt today but i couldn't bear slamming myself in first person.

Coincidences

2007-06-27T23:52:00.000+08:00

The odds of some stuff happening are like 1 to 6310864078146508917 but they happen anyway. Right down to the second.

Meeting familiar strangers, god likes to amuse me.