Ok

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

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

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

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

argh.

why do you keep tormenting me. argh.

Redefining "no-life"

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

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

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

SUM AWESOME PIX 4 CELEBRATION:

Still wishing I was more serious?

Proving Stuff:

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

Smell some Led Zep coming up.

Thanks

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

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

Over here.

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

Joe Pass Virtuoso 1.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.