Misfits

2009-03-28T02:10:00.002+08:00

It is here that the fashion trends make their debut. It is here that the oldest live. It is here that the people are touted as close minded, bound by values, expectations and tradition, unable to breakthrough. When we are reading our papers and playing our games, juvenile suicides here, are on the rise even as you read this, word, after word. A fast pace of life dependent on their modern infrastructure and the latest in technologies, everything is instant, accessible. They give it many names, one of which is Nihon. And so it is here, that Koichi Suginaka lives and will live, for his journey, is what I would call, the beginning of an ending.

3 am, 5 hours of sleep to day one at work, but it had not mattered to the young man who turned 24 just 3 hours ago. A reserved soft spoken man, the fresh graduate found a job at a day care centre, and it had not struck him as anything queer to be taking care of these four year olds when he could have been off at a public school. It did not strike him as anything silly, or stupid if I may say, that a man who graduated with a degree in English was taking care of a bunch of rascals. Rascals he would call them, for he was never a fan.

The night had ended, and morning was already here but the faster the morning graced him, the wider he was awake. He was not nervous, neither was he scared. The man just, could not sleep. As he lay in bed in his apartment in Tokyo, where the lights were never turned off, and the billboards ever changing, so were the memories in his mind that was deeply rooted, never to be faded way. I guess that is an inevitability regardless of the situation because through the passage of time, everything may pass, but the memories, we always keep.

Nisshi,

I got to go out with Rukawa and Takeshi today but when I went home, daddy asked why I came home so late. Why I never studied. But I did. Rukawa also went home late but he never got scolded. He never needed to do the dishes but I had to. If I was lucky, I would not get slapped as long as I did it quick. Takeshi is going away. His father is bringing him to Disneyland. I’m sure that he will have fun. I wish I could too but I know the day will not come. He always called me a bother, that I was a rascal.

Jan 2 1990.

The alarm rang like a school bell, a sound he did not want to wake to or familiarize with. It took him a year before he decided to get the job. He needed clothes to look decent, wax to do his hair, food to satisfy the appetite. He once wondered what was so upbeat about the times where poverty was rife. Now he knew. The pay was decent, and the interview a breeze. Koichi was a man that you would definitely call laidback. He put on his velvet jacket accompanied by his striped shirt that looked almost perfect. It was his signature look that he decided to splurge on the last time he got allowance from his parents who had now given up on this prodigal son. He was now on his own and also on his way. On his way to a workplace he knew he would dread but was willing to put himself through just for the sake of money, expectations and plain naivety.

“The kids here are mostly four year olds. What you do is simple. All we need is someone to give them the attention they need and the guidance they deserve. Nap time is 3pm. We do activities in the morning but that’s handled by me for today. You must be around though to make sure they are fine and not doing something else. As you know, parents are very particular and the last thing we want to do is offend them. The rest of the curriculum is here in the folder that I passed to you earlier on when we met. Any questions yet Mr. Suginaka?”

“Please, call me Koichi. Koichi is fine for me madam. No questions yet. I look forward to this job.”

Sure he was. Koichi had got himself into a mess he underestimated but that never bothered him, at least not yet. So 9am it was, as he waltzed his way into class. It looked just like the old times, during his fraternity days as a student, only smaller. Very much smaller and this time filled with kids, Many kids.

“Children, come sit around.” The director said.

He had forgotten her name already but he was sure it was in the folder. She was a middle aged woman, who seemed to have been there for a reasonable amount of time. The bespectacled lady must have been a lover for kids he though. That was exactly complementary to Koichi. But I guess it was not a problem since he was the only one who knew that.

“This is Mr. Suginaka. He will be your new teacher so all of you have to listen to him. Are we clear children?”

The kids nodded in silence for a short bit, before an ecstatic and enthusiastic cheer followed which he swore irritated him to his gut.

“Good morning kids.”

The day had just begun and it was sinking in but he took comfort in the amount of work he had to do and thought immediately that time would pass quickly as soon as he made himself busy. Trust me when I say, he could not wait when the clock struck at 3pm. It would aptly apply then, that silence is golden.

SCHEDULE

0900-1000 Coloring

1000-1100 Breakfast

1100-1200 Puzzles and games

1200-0100 Playground time

0100-0200 Lunch

0200-0300 Story telling

0300-0400 Nap

0400-0500 Cartoons/ Videos (Decided by choice based on roster at the next page)

The young man who was now officially a day care teacher stared at his watch blankly, trying to fathom the fact only two hours had passed. A man that was once served in such spoilt fashion was now ironically, paid to serve these “angelic” kids; these rascals. The rose among the thorns was what you would call Koichi’s first problem and her name was Naomi Amuro.

Black was the colour of her short wavy hair, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the most enchanting of ways. Naomi Amuro was a toddler who was constantly oblivious to the space around her. In other words, she was the definition of purity and simplicity.

The young man felt as though time was trapped in a capsule, that time was yet again, passing so slowly when in fact the time for cartoons, videos and going home was soon to come. Ironically at this point, he could not relate to the fact that the first day at that day care centre was about to end.

Parents rushed in to pick their kids up as though picking up reserved goods from a store. Koichi could not help but blame them for the state he was in right now; a state which made him look and feel like a lifeless and pathetic soul that served kids.

As a jubilant face masqueraded Koichi, he escorted the kids out one by one aversely. Funny how all the kids left the day care hastily except for that bright-eyed girl, Naomi.

The immaculate girl embraced Koichi. One which was earnest but wasn’t enough to impress Koichi that Naomi was genuine.

Koichi stood there, motionless, numb.

Nisshi,

Rukawa and Takeshi are very close to their parents. Whenever they leave their homes, they would hug their parents. I really envy them both and I do not know why I never got a chance to do that. I always wanted to hug them, but they are always busy. Yesterday, I tried to look for them before I left the house for school but Daddy was on the phone, and Mummy was out in the garden. Are they too busy for me? Do you think they love me?

Jan 10 1990.

Koichi stepped into the day care centre on the following day. It felt stale to him, he felt out of his depth in that place. The day seemed like it was a carbon copy of the previous day, a routine which he knew will be stuck to him for a while.

That hug lingered around his head, he tried to eliminate it but his mind was so consumed with that retrospective thought.

As the day progressed, Naomi was the one kid at the day car centre whom Koichi kept observing. He simply did not understand the meaning of this all.

12 pm and it was playground time. Koichi’s task as a day care teacher was to bring all the thrilled kids to a playground nearby for games like catching and sand castle building. Mundane would be the word that I would use to describe Koichi’s feel during playground time as.

Naomi isolated herself from the other kids. She did not look as though she was lonely neither did she look like she was cheerless. She was engulfed in her own world of sand-castle building.

“Mr. Suginaka?” Naomi called for the young man harmlessly.

Needless to say Koichi had to attend to her needs, or in his perspective, he had to serve her.

“Yes Naomi? What’s on your mind?”

Naomi did not respond to that question but just gave him a pile of sand from her palms and smiled naturally at him.

It was not like him to reciprocate to children’s offers but he did, reluctantly.

The sweetness of 5 pm arrived and Koichi had to wait for the mad rush of parents once again. It was a moment when he would usually feel plastic and unreal. This time though, it was different for him. So there it was, that the man who seemed to loath his job or rather the content of what the job consisted of, now felt a tinge of difference. As the end of yet another day dawned upon him, he found himself, this time, ushering Naomi to her parents, which left him in awe, not in awe of what Naomi did for him, but in awe of himself, his own actions.

Sitting on a bench by a playground with the “backdrop” of the beautiful evening sun, Koichi gazed out and looked at the playground or rather the other side of life where the pasture seemed greener, He saw adults along with several other kids. As he allowed them to enter his confidence, He saw what they saw.

In the eyes of a child, they saw no hate, they saw no obsession, they saw no greed and they never saw materialism. Yet in their eyes were of such pure innocence and the tears rolling down only when they seemed to had lost their favorite toy or when their parents left them to go for work or when play had to stop because of rain. Their point of sadness was brought about through genuine loss with neither loss nor gain in their world; their world of innocence. They had no worries, no bills to worry about, clothes to think of or girls to be bogged down by. Their world was, it was in fact nothing. They were for themselves with everything in the world provided for them.

In the eyes of us, we valued war over lives at stake when it came to possession of rights. We spoke of freedom of speech but we were yet killed or banned from what we wanted to say. We valued our faces more than truth. We hid what was in the stash and took out what looked good in the trophy cabinet. In the eyes of us, we seemed to absorb the fact that our way to survive was to pry open the harsh reality of intent of us humans.

In the eyes of the infants, they had a world of their own, a world they created subconsciously along with other infants, other kids that allowed us adults to enter the realm of their world but never to be part of their world. We were past that already, everybody has it once. That is why we experience nostalgia from time to time.

So home he went, for tomorrow was still to come.

Nisshi,

I love the playground. I have so much fun there and I am not stopped by anyone or anything. I wish my whole life was in a playground then I would not need to face other things already.

Jan 20 1990.

2009-01-05T23:48:00.004+08:00

" You see that pack of sweet Dunhill killing sticks on the end of the piano? All you need to know about life is retained in those four walls. You will notice that one of your personalities is seduced by the illusions of grandeur - the gold packet of king size with a regal insignia, an attractive implication towards grandeur and wealth, the subtle suggestion that cigarettes are indeed your royal and loyal friends, and that, mate, is a lie.Your other personality is trying to draw your attention to the flip side of the discussion, written in boring bold black and white, it's a statement that these neat little sergeants of death and in fact trying to kill you and that, mate, is the truth. Oh, beauty is a beguiling call to death and i'm addicted to the sweet pitch of its siren. That that starts sweet ends bitter, and that which starts bitter ends sweet. That is why you and i love the drugs. Now please, pass me a light."

2008-12-20T18:01:00.004+08:00

Fall for myself.

The rain fell mercilessly on the ground as I gazed out to the window. It wasn’t heavy, it wasn’t light either. It just seemed, never to stop. It was the kind where you couldn’t really see rain until you heard the pitter and the patter as it hit the ground. The cars that passed by every two seconds made the rain ever more present. The breeze that went through the grills of my window sent their greetings of course. However, it was the day, that sat me down as I gazed out. Mallow skies, colored apartments and hotels that seemed to be all of the same color in one fell swoop; a dull pale yellow, an overcast sky if you like.

If I looked carefully, I could see what was on the television in the unit of the apartment opposite mine.

And if I zoomed out of that focus, I could see the colors of the clothes hung out by forgetful or probable sleeping neighbors. When was the last time I would pay attention to these details and take time to appreciate my surroundings. I could not recall. When was the last time I headed out to fool around or get drunk with my blokes, catch a decent movie or make out in the sea of my blankets with God knows who. Every damn day, I’ll tell you that much.

Am I having one of my epiphanic moments you ask. Why, no. I’m merely learning to fall for myself.

I would sit myself down and call the people that mattered. Send an email to my father who was somewhere in Europe, enjoying the fruits of his labor. I would take a decent shave and sink my anatomy in a nice warm bubble bath. Get dressed decently in case a guest might stop by. Audrey Hepburn would sing to me as I fed on glamorized alcohol that people deemed as wine, smiling, to Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Paying the bills, going for a run and cleaning up the house would be next. Working on my long due assignments would come at long last, as I sat down, enjoyably to wine and to delve in the passion of my work.

If I looked carefully, I could see what was on the television in the unit of the apartment opposite mine.

The news was on. But yet I wasn’t so sure. The rain got heavier, makings its presence much more seen and heard. I couldn’t afford to confirm my affirmations. I had assignments to do, my grandmother to call and my dad to email. I had Bills to pay and my long awaited bubble bath. Photographs of my surroundings to be taken. My self promised runs and household chores. But all that could wait. For now the rain had invited me to bed, once again. The ever enticing bed made an offer simply too ard to resist. But I promise, I will be ascetic to my tasks later. Please, please, let me get what I want.

Sleep.

Goodnight.

Later.

2008-12-18T04:19:00.003+08:00

When We met Why.

My Auntie walked in today to my room. It was a normal walk in like the usual days, with the usual questions.

" what did you eat? "

" who cooked? "

" are you hungry "

But then she paused for a while, looked at me and said.

" I bought 5721 last week cause your mother was born on the 21st, so this week i changed to 5751 because your mother was born in 1951. But why did 5721 come out this week. Darling why."

Why she asks.

After sharing so many similar encounters with 4 numbers, she asks, why.

Then it hit me. We ask why. We ask questions because at every point in time we feel the need to ask. Why.

Just two days ago I was with someone that was smiling out and out. It was supposed to be a happy day. But it ended in tears when the crowd was less, when the night had begun to consume all that happiness that was pushing her on the whole day. She had fallen out of love and in the midst of it all she asked me, "Why me."

She said, "So painful."

We all have our loves in life. As Wikipedia has kindly noted out to me. It would seem that perhaps love, is an underrated term to most. Or rather, a term that's used far less than its original nature of versatility. Romance. That to most, love is romance. When in fact love could be a want to gain fame, a want to be rich, or a love for an object rather a human being. It could be romance, yet it could be love of a more greater nature. Family. But let us not go too far out now.

Perhaps, it is likely to you that through the nature of this blog, I will go to and stop at romance. You are right even though I started out the entry with my auntie's questions as to why her wants to get a little richer were not satisfied. She had not set out to earn a million, or spend it on clothes. She had wanted that bit of money, to give to those she loved because she is if i may, the most wonderful woman any son could have.

But why she asks. Why we ask. Our inquisitive nature never seems to stop it seems. One day I had been talking to a friend who asked me if i had a girlfriend of which i replied, "No." I asked him. What about you. His response?

"for what."

I'd like to add. He isn't a bad looking guy. He isn't poor at all and in nowhere near the areas of stupid. He's a smart lad just finding his own way in life. His response was tantamount to a why. But it led me to ask myself the exact same question. For what. And if we need love. Why.

You might think that every word, every term that you cannot understand, can be explained to you with the use of the net, the dictionary or a very smart man. Perhaps for most things in life, that is true. But there is one thing a dictionary will fail to explain not because of its incapabilities but because of the magnanimity of the word. I have come to realize that perhaps love is the only word that belongs to everyone. Like how everyone has hair but styles it differently. It's the same with love. I think after some time or in the past 2 hours or so that i have struggled to finish this post, i have somehow within me found a compromise. That perhaps love shouldn't be one way or the other. That perhaps to each his own, is more than akin to love itself.

But here is my deepest contradiction.

To me, love is not about the best girlfriend/boyfriend you can be. It's not necessarily how nice you make yourself look for your other half or giving and taking. It's about finding someone that you can talk to. someone that you can believe in because she'd believe in you or at the very least, know what you're believing in and why. That person should be someone that clicks with you without a catalyst or better yet with a catalyst makes the most wonderful of companions. That to me, is love. Might she be my best friend you ask. Might she be just someone that i can talk to and not be with you ask.

You just might be right but one day when that question is asked to me. Why are you with her. I want my answer to be.

" She's my best friend. She's my girlfriend. But most of all, she's someone i can talk to about anything, anytime. She understands me and i see her not as my friend, my girlfriend or my wife when i think about her. Even though she may be one of those things or all. I think of her and all i see, is beauty."

I've come to a point where i can respect the differing views on love in the space of 4 hours. Its amazing because the past few weeks have been spent pondering about why people view it as this way. I sought to wonder if maybe i was the one looking at things wrongly. For someone that never took longer than 2 hours to write up a post, take it from me. I have carefully considered every word. An epiphany in 4 hours owing to staring into spaces and words is a mighty nirvana.

"I thought she was cute. The feeling is just there."

"I can learn to love you more, bit by bit, day by day."

"I dont know. It just happened."

"He was nice. He never gave up."

These are reasons I probably would have never accepted 4 hours ago. For some reason i had chosen to believe that this was all too shallow. But maybe i have learnt to accept that this is, a way of love. Yet my deepest contradiction is yet to be accounted for. I would love to have someone to talk to, anytime about anything. I would love to have someone i see as beautiful to talk to. Yes i would need it. "for what" my friend would ask.

The same thing I would ask to the person that found someone cute or just loved the idea of holding his/her hand, embracing him/her, or was just wooing this person for the sake of a feeling unable to be explained for. "for what." Is it necessary?

I guess my answers revolve around an area of gray. I do not know. I guess there's no place or time for love. A few hours ago I wondered if its necessary. Why do people go running for love at 16 or 60? Is it just a trend to have one, a feel to have one, or a desperate need? Is it spontaneous, or somewhat planned? nice when he/shes with you, or nice when you saw him/her? My answer is that because each of us have such a different attitude towards love, our reasons for wanting them are indefinitely different. And because i say to each his own, it will forever be a right. Something we must not question. We should not question. Things happen for a reason. But take this with you. As a friend had too once told me.

"It's someone you can live with. Not someone you can live without, because if it's someone you cannot live without, then you have no life. Then you have not lived."

Because love is not your life. Because love forms part of your life. Because love makes your life better. because it shouldn't harm you. He/she has to be someone you can live with, not someone you cannot live without.

Why you ask. Why we need love.

I say. Why not.

2008-12-15T03:10:00.002+08:00

Life gets you in a funny way.

Not too long ago, I had a plan. A plan that was flawless and seemingly without pitfall. I took no such things as surprises or life visits to deal my plans any blows or thwarted direction. I guess that is when life got me. In a funny way. My father used to say that when you're sitting pretty, always think of danger. When you're in deep shit, think of deeper shit. Yes i guess you could say my father was a man of caution. Whether or not that benefited him is another story to tell on another day. Yes because this is my story.

How do I start. I guess most times, we have this feeling about something that's mostly based on what people say. You tend to trust the people that have been there and done that. Though each experience of each individual may differ, you can't help but accept the general overview. That perhaps, it does suck. As much as you perk yourself up with the many movies, the countdown thats brought down to make it seem ever nearer, you probably can't help but, well like i said, accept the general overview. I guess that is the mindset that i went in with that morning at tekong ferry terminal. Most of the time, I guess its innate to feel that bit of freedom lost to the country when you enlist. It's a sucky feeling really, not much to lie about. That's how i started my life in army. Making full use of the suckiness to make my life a little more enjoyable.

You see i never planned to be in the PES C batch. I despised the thought, despised the term and for a long time, never learnt to respect the people in it. With. Or without excuse. Yet when it was deemed that my problems were a tad too serious for "suay" or sebei suay" to handle and a bright C was written next to my pes status. It dawned on me. KAR-fuckin-MA. My dreams of getting into command school, my thoughts of maybe one day being in the position to tell people that, you can do it, were gone that very morning. But back to the story, let's just say the road along that 7 weeks was a rough, nice, funny yet most enlightening experience that i find almost hard to forget. They say when you're in camp, you'll find it easy to see, who are the most steady ones, or in a more literal sense, the ones you can rely on. For the camp I had been in , it was more of the opposite, i saw with my own eyes how selfish people could get, and the lengths they would go to escape any kind of activity or in this modern age what we call as "geng".

In case most of you didn't already know, you're not supposed to speak of the army. But let me say this. The road will be tough. Pes C or PEs A, you will find the difficulties and trust me on most levels, you will find them to be sometimes, almost the same. You will complain, you will hate. You will be full of angst, and you will be unhappy. But at the end of it all, you'll look back like I am right now as Im typing this out while looking out to the window. And you will say the sweetest phrase.

" That was kick-ass."

To the mates from Viper Company, We went as far as we could. Perhaps we're the only ones to know that. But self knowledge is better than no knowledge.

2008-12-13T04:18:00.002+08:00

This is a story about a boy, about a boy who said that this was somehow his last treat, his last write, his last piece. His swan song if you may. Ironically just 5 months on and the former is disregarded as a moment of folly, a rash decision, the usual season for mistakes if you may.

Yet what you may ask, is so special about tonight that he begins his usual rant, his expression of ways to be yet again, nom de plume?

Fate hits you in a way that you find hard to accept, sometimes hard to explain he says. To him, he thought his life was planned in a way that people could ideally accept and agree with. He was right. It was logical, with all the foreseen blind spots and pitfalls. But yet life had different plans for him when fate hit him with a new status, and a new entry. A re-entry if you may.

Tonight he is at a loss for words. Perhaps that is why I am referring to him as he, a boy, his and what have you. Know this he says. He will write. For reasons that he does not know yet, he will write a lot more than he used to. Perhaps this is a time for change, perhaps things should never have changed but most likely he says, it is a season for change.

Tomorrow he says, for now we sleep.

2008-07-17T21:24:00.003+08:00

The Implications of Mr Ramble and Repeat.

I like to write and hence i try my best to do my best writing even if people think it might not be the best that they have read or be among the best they rank as the best.

But now I cant write because the ideas are not arriving and they are taking a long time to arrive so maybe their bus has not arrived fast enough for my ideas to arrive in my head that is currently waiting for them to arrive.

So maybe i'll put up a notice for them to start arriving so that my brain will notice they have arrived fast enough for me to start writing my book, which has noticed that it is still pretty empty because my brain hasn't noticed the ideas so maybe the notice will help the ideas to notice that i put up a notice for them to start arriving.

I ramble a lot and I repeat a lot. I wander. I wonder. And i also blunder from time to time.

Especially when i cant write. And right now, i can't write.

2008-07-16T00:56:00.007+08:00

" Give me a sane man and i will cure him. "

And as the rain came pouring down, you'd start to think that maybe. Just maybe it was gonna be his day. Barely a minute into the game, and the heavens decided to turn on the water mains. But it was good for the young man, he felt tireless, infinite, like he was before. That lasted for exactly 8 minutes before he tired out. He'd get the ball try a thing or two, lose the ball and not run for it no more. He'd look up from time to time, but find his possession stolen. He would run when it was not necessarily called for, and not run fast enough when the time was more than important. This was him now as he felt the weight each time he ran, and each time his boots trudged the muds and grass, each time he fell to the ground. Each time he stopped. His teammates would make that clear. Telling him he ran too slow, that he got fat, round, That he should have passed instead of trying to run the play. And for 5 whole seconds, he wanted to give up because trust me in that rain, he would just lay in the mud and sleep it away, hoping he'd wake up the next day and remember nothing about yesterday. Because for some reason, we were always safer in tomorrow. In the midst of the game, with the showers constantly falling upon him, his teammates were a blur. Their shouts were a blur. His game was a blur. His identity as a player? Very much uncertain. First half drew to a close with him playing possibly, the worst game of his life.

Wait for a silver lining his father would say.

The second half kicked off and once again he felt adrenaline. He felt energy. He felt the need to win. Probably he never believed in it, probably he never believed in himself but all of that did not seem to matter now. He was beginning to run, to think, to be more composed. A pass to his foot was cushioned nicely as he looked set to take on the left back. With a push of the ball to the left back's left, he ran to his right, overtaking him before putting a decent cross in the box. A play enough to be noticed. And so, that was one.

Ten minutes on and once again, down the flank he went against the left back. Between his legs the ball went as he again went pass the defender before being taken down by the pork chop. That was two. And then. That was all.

Perhaps to many, there were other highlights. Perhaps there was none of this player, but there was progress. To him, he remembered just these two. Because they provided a memory, a rejuvenation for the player he was, maybe even the person he was. Persevering and just fuckin crazy.

I don't believe in a second place, or that a good loss is a good win. Maybe failure is a progress to success, but second place is never a consolation. And anybody that says winning isn't important, hasn't won. If it's not important, why keep score. If it's not important, why have league tables, statistics accolades? Winning is not a sometime thing. You don't win once in a while, you don't do things right once in a while, you do them sweet and right all the fuckin time. I would have slid every ball, run down every man and chase down any winger if i could. And so maybe i cant. But it's not impossible sunny boy. Dream big. Dream bold and one day, just one day. Maybe. You will be as you dream. Fuckin great. Perhaps winning isn't everything, but the will to win is the fuckin world. Every ball that crosses the line, every 50 shot rally, every ball in the basket and every ball in the hole is a confirmation; That you can.

So you can tell me im crazy and that it's impossible. But i say, live your life crazy. As crazy as it can get, and love every second of it.

Because.

one day, i'll run.

run.

and run.

And you know what's sweet? It's gonna be the day the people say,

"This guys crazy. He's all over the field."

Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It is an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It is a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing."

- Adidas Motto

For those that are there, climb higher.

For those that think you already are great. You're not greater than i am.

Watch out boys, someone's coming back to town.

2008-06-11T01:16:00.004+08:00

Re: What comes as late, is better than what comes as never?‏
From: Joyce Kok (joycekok@yahoo.com)
Sent: Tuesday, June 10, 2008 6:12:10 AM
To: Choy Seng Joe (inversed_09@hotmail.com)
Joe

Your email made me felt really sad. Seriously. I can never express how much you and Seng Hon means to me and many a times I've asked myself if it was a selfish act to go away from SG and leave you guys "hanging" there by yourselves. Maybe its a yes but then again, its just a matter of timing before you guys go your own ways in a couple of years time. I think its bad timing for you as you are still schooling but your sister here is just too old to delay the immi process. Since I came back from US in 1996, I have never stopped hoping I will get out of SG and be able to live in a place somewhat similar to Massachusetts. The fact that I am married and now have a family of my own affirms the fact that I need to build my own nest and I just cannot envision it in SG, having worked those long hours and paying bills after bills, not being able to see Darien during those days. Jeff have the same vision in some ways - he'd always wanted to head back to
Vancouver which he spent 6 years in his youth.

The only way to get over missing you guys is to think of the big picture. Just think of it as we spreading out and building bases around the world. You already have one in MY and HK, so next is VA for you guys. You know, I think when I have settled and when you have a chance to come to visit, you might really want to consider University of British Columbia.( http://www.ubc.ca/about/slideshows/index.html#) I am strongly convinced you should take your tertiary education outside SG to gain a bigger perspective of the world and get a chance to know diff cultures and so many other courses available in overseas uni which SG will never be able to provide. 

One day, you might even consider living where I am and the road is already half paved. I can sponsor you to Canada to live and work. Do not discount this possibility that you will want to get out of SG as really, you will never understand what you are missing until you have experienced living overseas - the availability of choices, the freedom of speech and thoughts, being able to be really independent, to really know the world as a melting pot of cultures, last but not least, the breathtaking scenaries. Dear brother, I long to be able to travel to see northern lights with you one day! (http://www.flickr.com/photos/rezmutt/432012266/) 

You are my baby brother and you always will be, you will never be able to understand how much I miss and love you everyday. Last night, I had a dream that I was about to return to SG alone but well, it did not got to that far since Darien barged into the room and disrupted it. Think I really miss you guys..

Thanks for your well wishes

Sis

----- Original Message ----
From: Choy Seng Joe 
To: joycekok@yahoo.com
Sent: Tuesday, June 10, 2008 6:54:43 AM
Subject: What comes as late, is better than what comes as never?

Dearest sister,

Perhaps there is no easy way to say this for in so many ways, you are not in my life, as much as i am not in yours. Your face, along with darien's and elliot's stand deeply rooted in my heart and not a day goes by where i do not think of you and how life might be for all of you. Yet the same thought of how life would be if you were here never fails to escape me. In many ways, i miss the times we would share. Us. Brother and sister but you just have to respect that eventually we go our own ways and hope that we have enough time for each other on some days. Life has gone on for you, as it has for me too. I miss you everyday but i try not to hope for something that could never happen, which us being together again. I wish you a very happy belated birthday sister. And im sorry this email comes so late. I did try to call on one occasion only to have it engaged. Retail hours are nuts and when i find time to relax, i eventually fall asleep.
I hope all is well and i hope the little bloke is fine too. Send my regards to Jeffrey and take good care of yourself. I love you. And i miss you. Once again, happy birthday sister. I wish you were here.

Your brother,
Joe.

2008-06-02T23:38:00.002+08:00

Speak.

If you had never learnt to speak. Then probably, you had never begun to write. And if that is true, you have not lived a second of life to know what it means to feel...

It had been one and a half weeks. It started at 6 in the morning with countless ideas to fill the day. Breakfast, Early bird movie plans and the mix. But yet who didn't love sleep? Especially when it was so terribly inviting after the hearty breakfast that called themselves, beans, toast, eggs, sausages and. Mcgriddles. They met at 430 p.m. (Yes, they both slept) to have a day spent together. After all, it had been one and a half weeks.

He was late, a little later than she was and this was rare considering the track record but nothing had seemed to change. She had called to ask where he was in the voice that still made him feel happy no matter what the circumstance. He knew she would flip if he tried to be humorous or a tad too funny than he should be, but he did it anyway. A playful response like kids would do when the other couldn't catch him/her. She would respond by. The traditional hang up that would equate to see you later so i can pinch your fat arm and smack your fat ass.

She wouldn't know that he came by cab( oops ) because he couldn't decide which color pants to wear or how to style his hair when at the end, he wore the first pair of pants he picked, and well as for his hair, it was never any different. So then their eyes met when he turned to the corner coming down from the escalator and the conversations started. It had never been anything significant, or intellectual, it was just two people talking. Her hair was exactly what he missed it to be, let down with a clip or two, and her presence, exactly what took him away from himself moment to moment. So much so, that the boy could try to be cool and aloof, but still give in with the biggest smile in the world, like a fat boy would when he received the big cookie. That's what she did to him. Smile. It wasn't entirely the corny equation of love bringing happiness. It was just the innate existence of one being. Her being.

They had lunch that was barely reasonable by quality or price. They would still laugh about it and seek shopping as a solace but have nothing much to find. She'd have nothing much to buy despite the presence of cash, and he, well would be a little too fat to be trying on polo tees that he fancied. ( they were vintage = used = one piece ) They would have soup from one of those customary diners that didn't charge much for the yummy's they served. Conversations would go on from amusement parks, to the arts, to how fat he was and the things that mattered in their lives enough to bother them. After all, it had been one and a half weeks.

And how would a couple not enjoy a good movie even if it was ass numbing and sometimes cold. The silence, the felt between the two in those seats and knowing they were there at the cinema together, sometimes having their fingers fill the gap of the spaces between the other's fingers or the momentary cling on the arms when something really funny happened.

Then the lights came on. And the two got hungry again. It never bothered them how to get food, it was just a matter of where good food was. And well trust me, they had good food. The date was nothing out of the ordinary. Lunch that could have been better, shopping that could have been better, and a movie, that could never have been any better with its brilliance along with supper that even went home with the girl. Maybe in many ways, space had separated the two to a place that was less comfortable or maybe comfortable in its own purest and most innocent ironies. But the date, in many ways itself as well, brought the two to a place where they could be comfortable. With each other.

Maybe one day, the space would be bigger, and the two would go their separate ways and im sure eventually finding what we call happiness. Or maybe the space would become a gap and that gap would close eventually with them finding what we call happiness together. But at that point in time, at every point in time that they were together and that it was real on that day at that time, did it matter?

Because if you had never learnt to speak. Then probably, you had never begun to write. And if that is true, you have not lived a second of life to know what it means to feel.

I love you.

2008-03-29T13:30:00.002+08:00

26.03.08

We came in as individuals.

We were there together as graduates.

We went out as individuals.

For cars we were

As we pass each other by.

That was graduation from school, and from complications.

From friendships, and sour relationships.

Like the valedictorian said, we came in, maybe a tad ashamed of where we entered, but on that day, we left, proud to be pioneer graduates of STA's New Media.

Now I can't say i have made the best of friends.

But i also can't say i didn't have the best of times.

Some of you i hardly remember

But somebody else does.

Im sure.

2008-02-15T20:58:00.012+08:00

"Cemetery of Forgotten Books. "

Suntec City a few days back. Nothing intentional, just a normal day out. And then, this.

A cemetery of forgotten books.
Just lying there, in no particular order or hierarchy of priority.
Just.
There.

One day, I'll fucking get a refuge for these goodfellas.
And I'm not gonna let anybody get to that cemetery.
And then one day, I'll publish something.
Fuckin great.

2008-02-15T20:58:00.001+08:00

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

2008-01-29T00:14:00.000+08:00

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

He felt his feet get heavy and his footsteps, more audible. It hadn't been the first time he stepped into a hospital, even though the feeling felt so different. He stepped up before the man, and said his hellos. He knew there'd be no reaction but its the thing that all of us humans do. Negligence before knowledge. He tried again, to say his hellos. No avail. One moment he knew the world, the next, he knew nothing. The man was not the person he thought him to be on this day and the fear grew. But negligence saved his cause as he headed on home.

He felt his heart get heavy and the silence, more deafening. It hadn't been the first time he disappointed her. He knew that though this time it felt unreasonably different. The pain was more, the regret mounting. He stepped up before his mother and said his hellos. He knew there'd be no reaction but its the thing all of us humans do. Negligence before knowledge. He tried again to say his hellos. No avail. But he knew she was there so he spoke anyway. After all, she was his mother.

"In the time that she is troubled, i do nothing to assure her. I do not help, neither do i seek to understand. I leave her to herself at most times, that being a mistake on my part. I do not deserve her, yet i want her. I want to change and now i know how, but mother, oh mother, this is like the boy who cried wolf. Like the story you told me, like the story with you and i; that i should have taken my chances. I do not understand her stress and i add to her loneliness. I am her pillar, but i fail to be it. she needed me to be there, yet i never was. She needed someone to talk to , yet that person, i never was. She needed someone to understand her stress and take it away, but i never did. She was supposed to be happy with me, but i made her alone. I know now mother, i do. But please don't make this, the boy who cried wolf for i know the person i ought to be."

And then the fear grew, Inevitably. But negligence saved his cause.

2007-12-21T06:22:00.000+08:00

At this point in time, probably all, if not most of the people that i know or at least have the slightest mark of existence in the phone book of my cell, are asleep. It is comforting to note that, at this point in time though, there are some, if not one, thats not sleeping. So i don't care if you're busting your psp, taking a wank or being a wank but you're here, and its been a while. So stay.

Shakespeare wrote, "to be or not to be, that is the question." And in this fucking great piece of art, Hamlet muses on the comparisons in the pains of life and the uncertainty of death. How about that. Bam. 10 fucking words and it'll say that much.

And so moving on, sometimes i wonder about things, the possibilities and the impossibilities. Who doesn't? Sometimes, you find it stupid to wonder. Not because of the what is in the present but because it is the present. We think with the consequence of being stuck too fuckin much. Because the person that chooses to wonder, forever wonders. And the person who chooses to dream, forever lets his dreams, be dreams. Aristophanes wrote that, "Youth ages, immaturity is outgrown, ignorance can be educated, drunkenness sobered, but stupid lasts forever."

Today i did up the xmas tree.
Next year i might do the same.
But something in me nearly lasted forever.

Now seriously, as a self proclaimed writer or a writer to speak of myself, it is wise to say that i am ordained by words. That the words are my dictator and this piece of shit is my fucking constitution. A tyranny. No class is tyranny.

I'd have a stab at myself and call me the hopeless romantic but i change that with hope. I do all kinds of stuff; sometimes i behave like an idiot one might never find; I show you a stroke of genius on a lucky day and yet i might be the laziest being that thinks objects or things can float to their destinations. I'm a slob, pretty much it.

But you see, I like to think I'm a pretty cool kid. With what i know, and just because JD Salinger, Hornby, Huxley, Hemingway and all the other artists are just sitting on my shelf, which i personally think is fucking awesome. But to the point, I'm supposed to be the cool kid that i think i am, or at least the kid that's all bout literature and language, that kinda thing. But,

Today i did up the x mas tree.
Next year i might do the same.
But something in me nearly lasted forever.

No sorry.

Today i did up the xmas tree with my girlfriend.
Next year i shall do the same. ( this is fucking more than hope mate i assure you)
But something in me nearly lasted forever.

Aristophanes would have loved to execute me, and Hamlet, probably might sympathize, but like i said, i did up the x mas tree with my girlfriend. So before i go deck the halls and all fucking fra la la la la la on you blokes, I'll say one thing. And this is going to take me out of the block. It's going to be the cheesiest line you could get from me. Its so bad that the next time you wanna hear it, you're gonna have to buy me a car. So open your eyes real fucking huge, and pay fucking attention. No msn pop ups, no porn, not even your youtubes.

"Cause I have to me, just about the best girlfriend, any guy could have. I have a girl that spins my world, sails my ship and works my gravity. I got a girl that rocks my soul."

Aye.

2007-10-22T10:17:00.000+08:00

I don't think i had ever meant for this to be personal.
But I'm not God.

I thought about things on the way to school.
Most of them were about my family. Going.
I don't think I'm emotional.
I think bad things happen to me and so i am the way i am.
I don't blame. I don't seek acceptance.
I sure as hell don't need pity.
But perhaps I'm a wreck.

Then, again i have answers to nothing.

I'm jaded. Yea. And I'll take some stick, but still.

I'm fuckin jaded.

2007-10-12T09:24:00.000+08:00

Death is a funny thing. It brings a sardonic humor to our lives. Yet at this juncture all i could say is something we all know; it ain't a bed of roses. Sometimes it lets you go through all the pain at one go, making you miserable in the initial stages of the mourning. Yet at times, it lets you go through it slowly, taking it out of you time after time, bit by bit.

Then you begin to feel like nothing can go right. In our modern terms of today, we tout it as emo. Death is pretty damn hard to accept and one can head to the nice side of things and remember the dead as how they lived, not as they went. But hey i said it, it ain't a bed of roses.

I don't know death because I've never met it.
Yet i know death as it marinates my cosmos.
And it's not funny.
It's not even sardonic.

It's just plain fucking sad.

But life goes on. Today you suck it up, and you make sure it comes not back again, bit by bit.

2007-10-02T18:42:00.000+08:00

I will remember you.
Though you might have left knowing no one.

2007-09-18T02:46:00.000+08:00

Oright shut the fock up.

alright enough of this ruckus and listen.

Why is it so hard to write about something funny or something light hearted? Why does it always have to be something cheesy. Something suicidal, something, fucking political or "life" like? Why do i have always have to get me liberated.

I don't know. I think that its a chore to have to write like someone you ain't just like how it's tough to work when u can raise a hand and get some from the parents. With that said, I cant be funny. Kapeesh?

This hole is quite a deep one no? I couldn't get into a desired specialization because i failed me science and New Media really develops budding rocket scientists. Having been thought of as a local lad, i think it's abc to understand that hard work gets you places. Yea it does, cos if not for some smartmouth-ing and some pretty neat abc, i wouldn't be in New Media now, now would i?

Aye, they say its nor the destination. It's the journey and sure, sure thats true but really we all want somethin now don't we?

And then this country. We have ethnicities in the States or other places that has more than three distinct colors. Over here, we have a few. We got, well ok i'm not going to mince the meat lets keep it clean aye? Among us Chinese, we have the Ang Moh Pais and the Cheena Biangs. And ya know wot? It ain't so bad being able to do both cos sometimes, you'd like to listen to a little jay chou, Slur a long line of hokkien luxuries and then sometimes you'd like to speak proper english, Pop in John Mayer or Oasis. Im nor takin sides. It's in fact the luxury of choice for me without needing to act like i can. I can.

Army. Army army army. Need i say more?

Stop readin this shit, go to bed. Its fuckin three am.

“It's about the music and that's it. I'm not an entertainer. But I do entertain people, see what I mean?”

“Lennon was right. And we are bigger than Jesus. We will be as big as the Beatles, if not bigger.”

Atta boy.

Liam Gallagher. Take a wank and live forever, Ya sleazy fuck.

Cheers

2007-09-05T16:08:00.000+08:00

"nom de plume"

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

2007-08-26T12:33:00.000+08:00

So they said Chicago was awesome.
Then they spoke of Dream girls. Touted it the best musical with rapture in it. That it was rare.

Right.

Hairspray: The view from the top

Apart from its cheesy stances of romance and maybe one or two hiccups, Hairspray is by far D musical to catch since Grease. John Travolta's role in the movie is rivetingly funny, Nikki Blonsky attracts with the cheerful cheeks and the "size don't matter" vibe. High School Musical star Zac Efron retains if not heightens his charm on this 1988 remake. Trust me I'd know and so if its vocals you're worried about, sit back and wait for the cherry on top cause its got style and charm to top the vocals. Even if the movie gets a little sappy and boring, theres always Amanda Bynes and the still gorgeous Michelle Pffeifer. hey hey hey.

Yet, what surprises me most about the film is its underlying plot. Based in Baltimore during the period of segregation following the war and the emergence of young John Kennedy, this film very subtly but succinctly manages to build the tension and situation of the scene then with music. If you didn't know, the corny collins you see on the movie played by james marsden is with reference to an actual band stand tv show then called the Buddy Deane show. My father had told me about this film with its rocket demographics and tv ratings. However that did not stay long as the show failed to integrate singing between the races which is the exact dilemma in the film.

If you're a fan of The Beatles, the beach boys or Elvis, you're in luck.
If you're a fan of hippie fashion or the mod, you're in luck.
If you're a fan of rejuvenating dance with good old rock and roll, you're in luck.
If you know shit about musicals and just hate it, you're the luckiest person alive.

This will have you rockin and rollin. All the way back to the 60s.

Tapped with humor and positivity, Hairspray does not fail to include the seriousness on the issues that built around the nation during their trying times with like i said subtlety and yet not straying away from the main plot of the movie. Music.

Ive watched my fair share of musicals and I'd place this right where Grease is. I'd place this above Moulin Rouge for it s exquisite touch of bridging music with segregation. I wont say it's worth your 9.50 but boys, this s a must watch and girls, well you probably already know that.

But yet what strikes me most ain't the plot of the movie, it's the feel of the movie. The sleek combed back hair, the tap dancing to good old 60s dance music, the bee hive hairstyles, square like leather bags as well as the old school sweaters compliment greatly the Audrey Hepburn meets Elvis Presley feel to the picture.

So lets do the twist.
Like we did in the 60s.

This is a must fucking watch.
Thats just how damn good it is.
Cheers lads.

2007-08-24T05:10:00.000+08:00

Tonight, we drink to youth.

You say life is a dream where we can't say what we mean
Maybe just some roadside scene that we're driving past
There's no telling where we'll be in a day or in a week
And there's no promises of peace or of happiness

Well is this why you cling to every little thing
And polverize and derrange all your senses
Maybe life is a song but you're scared to song along
Until the very ending

Oh, it's time to let go of everything we used to know
Ideas that strengthen who we've been
It's time to cut ties that won't ever free our minds
From the chains and shackles that they're in

Oh, tell me what good is saying that you're free
In a dark and storming sea
You're chained to your history, you're surely sinking fast
You say that you know that the good Lord's in control
He's gonna bless and keep your tired and oh so restless soul
But at the end of the day when every price has been paid
You're gonna rise and sit beside him on some old seat of gold
And won't you tell me why you live like you're afraid to die
You'll die like you're afraid to go

Oh, it's time to let go of everything we used to know
Ideas that strengthen who we've been
It's time to cut ties that won't ever free our minds
From chains and shackles that they're in
From the chains and shackles that they're in

Well life is a dream 'cause we're all walking in our sleep
You could see us stand in lines like we're dead upon our feet
And we build our house of cards and then we wait for it to fall
Always forget how strange it is just to be alive at all

2007-08-08T21:06:00.000+08:00

So it starts with the love and all the affairs of the heart that bring us to a new lease of life.

Then it really begins with the first cry, that well, marks our inhabitation on this lonely planet.

Then we grow up and we have fun. We do the stupid things we do, and make the mistakes we make. And for every little moment in between, we want to grow up, we rebel and we want out of youth and adolescence.

But in the event that all that happens, we have fun, a fucking great load of it.

Forever young

Let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies
Hoping for the best but expecting the worst
Are you going to drop the bomb or not?

Let us die young or let us live forever
We don't have the power but we never say never
Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
The music's for the sad men

Can you imagine when this race is won
Turn our golden faces into the sun
Praising our leaders we're getting in tune
The music's played by the mad men

Forever young, I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
Forever young, I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever? Forever young

Some are like water, some are like the heat
Some are a melody and some are the beat
Sooner or later they all will be gone
why don't they stay young

It's so hard to get old without a cause
I don't want to perish like a fleeing horse
Youth's like diamonds in the sun
and diamonds are forever

So many adventures couldn't happen today
So many songs we forgot to play
So many dreams swinging out of the blue
We let them come true

Forever young, I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
Forever young, I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever

Forever young, I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever?

Because late at night, late in our lives, we'll experience nostalgia.

The truth is, we should thank our lucky stars we're still young enough to be stupid and make up for it.

The truth is because we're young, or while we're young, we should be happy.

Embrace.

2007-08-03T15:26:00.000+08:00

Swapping Places.

The silence of the class was disrupted by an intervention. It was the test for chemistry, one I could never understand because I never bothered to. I wasn’t going to be a rocket scientist, nor was I going to be working in a pharmacy. The steps that followed were the steps I doubt I would ever forget.

“There’s been an emergency at home. I think its best that you go back.”

And so I did. Yet the thoughts that ran through my brain were the exemption I would get from chemistry, not what was waiting for me at home. I opened the wooden door that now seemed strangely unfamiliar. The living room was exactly the way it was, polished, clean and a certain smell that marinated the room with rancor. The only thing that was missing was my mother sitting on the couch, sipping on black coffee and semi toasted bread with scrambled eggs. She would read the newspaper and for many reasons I never understood, have the television on at the same time.

I entered her room and what greeted me was a sea of hopelessness, the kind that kids my age would have. The doctor had spoken of the time left. Her systems were failing and her time was almost up. My mother had decided to come home to return home. She had the choice of a hospice or the hospital but the alleyways that were the crossroads of going home were far too depressing for her. Now I would go on about the things I did in that 5 hours but to sum it up, I did nothing much a filial son would do. My mother lasted past the 5 hours past the night till the next day. I had gone back into the room when all were asleep at about 2 am in the morning after the “5 hour scare”. I spoke to her of the many things that happened in school and I spoke to her of the many things that I would have never said. No reply. I had told her I loved her. No reply. I had told her that I was sorry for wearing a mask in front of her at times and I was sorry for choosing my friends over her and that I was sorry for not being the son I should have been. No reply.

It was 415 in the afternoon the next day. The bed had seemed smaller with the crowds of people that surrounded her. She could not speak. Maybe she could hear but her systems were failing and the flam that filled her throat had to be taken out using suction. She had no strength to cough them out. She was weak and the end seemed near. Her eyes could not open and anything that happened against what I had mentioned above would mean an immense amount of strength.

She had waited for us three children to come around, to all be present and hold on to her hand. They were cold, and that coldness sent chills down my spine. It gave my anatomy a kind of weakness I would remember for life. You’d call it guilt or maybe an inner torture. I’d call it fucked up. She opened her eyes and looked us dead in the eye. She held on tight to our hands with such strength that I could not believe what was happening before me. Then it happened. Her eyes would close, never to open again. She had left with a tear that streamed down her face. To this day I don’t know if other people saw that tear. I question what that tear was. Perhaps it was an unwillingness to leave, the kind that would exemplify her worries or problems that were to come after her ascending. I held on to her lifeless hand, refusing to let go. Everybody was crying except me. The tears wouldn’t come out and my heart wouldn’t settle. I would insist she was not gone and that self fulfilling prophecy, to all of you, would probably be a joke. And so it was that on the First of March 2003, I said goodbye.

“Are you sick mom?”

“I’m going home soon. It’s not a bad thing dear. It’s just life.”

“Will you come back to visit me? I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m proud of you and we’ll always meet in our dreams; on the beach, at home, botanic gardens. You’ll find me there, I promise.”

The stream of black coats entering the church seemed never to end. Accompanying them was an equal number of black dresses and veils, all crowding beneath the ancient stones of the church. Once the news had gone out about her death, it was difficult to keep up with the phone calls. The town was very small, and must have seemed flooded by black and mourning. The church was the same that she had been married in. It was set off from the road on a large property, quaint and simple beneath the sun. The exterior was made up of large stones and brick, patterned in a fashion very common among the older buildings.

The casket was being led through the front door when I arrived .The pall bearers were sturdy men, the same age as she would have been, all from the same fraternity of their college days. They carried both her and the weight of realization on their backs. It appeared a very heavy load. The casket was polished cherry-wood, very elegant under the cloudless sky. It disappeared into the doors of the church, swallowed up in the maw of that great building.

Others were coming, and we entered the building in slow procession. Now we too were being swallowed up, consumed by the feelings and sentiments surrounding the occasion. Anyone who enters the room of a funeral somehow loses himself, and cannot feel anything except within certain, accepted parameters: thoughtfulness, grief or despair.
Something similar happens at weddings. While rehearsing, everything seems so ridiculous and funny, and people cannot help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. But during the wedding, such emotions are impossible, because they are curtailed by the decorous expectations of the multitude.

Finally the event began. The solemn words and the expressive tears made it apparent that she was dearly missed. One speaker followed another, almost every one coming from the front of the pews. Then one of them stood up whom I remember quite clearly, since his words struck me as being different in tone from the rest. Perhaps it would be best to describe it exactly.

He walked to the podium with very audible footsteps, which contrasted the almost fluid motion of his arms and legs. He seemed to float to the center of the area where all eyes were focused, accompanied by the tiny chatter of his footsteps. He stood behind the stand, which was meant more as an emotional defense than for any particular purpose. His feet were placed heavily, and it seemed that his body sank into position. I remember that the last breath he let out, before he began to speak, seemed to consider all of us, acknowledging our devotion in a way, agreeing with the tragedy of the event. Then he spoke.

"I'm not sure what I should say to all of you. It touches me that you've come. I only wish I could greet you under different circumstances.
"I expect that good form here is to say something touching. But I have nothing to say because I never really knew my mother. In fact, all she was to me then was a woman that would give me what I want, when want." He took a breath, and held it long.
"None of you in the audience has ever been struck by me. I know this because since my childhood I have never struck anyone except my mother. I can't explain why, or what motivated it. I do know she believed in me and yet never once did return that kindness. "
"And so I never met the best part of her. Instead she showed it to you, her friends, the family that bothered to care. But I, who should have known her best, lost my chance because I was ignorant of what was really important."
"That's why I have nothing to say to you today. But I am grateful to you for being here, since now I can meet with that part of her which touched the hearts of others; that part I always knew was there from afar, but never met. In your eyes I can see reflected the joys she shared with you, and the magnanimity of her heart.

"Thank you again for coming, and acquainting me with who my mother was."
He lowered his head and only stared at his fingers. He must have felt pinned, even though none of us would have judged him badly. Who hadn't done such things?
But he raised his head again, and in his eyes there was more to be said. He fought with it. I could see his lips moving slightly, and then looked down again. But shortly afterward he began to speak.

"I guess the only thing I can say is that I've learned something from this; that the day will come when an opportunity can be lost, and that the people closest to you, you realize never knew, not because they were hard to understand, but because we chose not to. What's worse is that we may never know them, as we hope foolishly for a magical day to come when everything will be forgotten. But that day never comes. It didn’t for me and I know that now."

He shook his head and stopped speaking abruptly and looked down again. I think he understood the negative impression he had created, but it seemed beyond his power to transition into something more hopeful. Maybe he felt that an anecdote, or some word of optimism, would make too much light of the experience he was trying to share. In either case, he turned away from the podium and walked back to his place. And sitting down he kept his eyes to the floor, never raising them, with the same expression of thought always on his face.

Was he trying to resurrect some past memory that might exonerate his misdeeds, which he had now confessed? Yet he never moved, not through the next speaker or the one after; it was not until the final words were said that he stood and departed from the room and its oppression.

The atmosphere was one indescribable, so much so that one's thoughts could not be translated into language. The room was dead silent as many prepared to say their final words to a lady that played a major role in their lives. As they took turns to view the open coffin and placed roses into it, a sense of guilt rid into the heart of that young man. He carried his way through and said his final words to that very someone whom he had loved so very much but never had the chance to tell or like I said, that he never took the chance on his own.

Any time I saw him after that, I could always detect, if I looked hard enough at his movements and his eyes, the impression of that day. Perhaps it was in this way that his mother had finally become a part of him: a gift as he later told me, because his mother had indirectly taught him a very important lesson about the relationships between people; Something which the memory of that day would never let him forget.

I miss you

2007-07-12T21:15:00.001+08:00

Dear fucking diary,

Tomorrow is Friday the thirteenth. So in case shit happens, the years have been trying, the months have been sweet, the weeks been a smash, and the days been one fucking literary right. In my rather heavenly 19 years of inhabitation on this soil, I salute my blokes and i commend em because if not for you clowns, God knows where I'd be.

Malvina Tan is one heck of a girl. People would say shes cool, shes spunky and all that side of vocabulary that would set her aside from the common girl and when i say common girl, i mean the basic rights of what a girl should possess, love, and feelings. Shes been there all this while and shes taken all my sardonic ruckus along with my emotional rants. Shes not that spiked hair girl that seems to be a tomboy or someone that isn't straight and for the record, shes attached. So many times that i had thought things would be over in my own trials with all the mofos in my life trying to fucking screw with my life but she'd be there. And shes more than what she looks like. Shes special.
Darren Fucking Tan
Now this lads, my best friend, my literary partner, my fucking One and t’other and one heck of a guitarist. Ive known this kid since my secondary school days and as he would put it, we're both fucking full of shit. We talk almost everyday from soccer to movies to how we should just go meet at each other at 3 fucking am in the morning when we have no intention to. We would call each other and say hello back at each other over and over till one of us gets bored. Yes, thats how fucking nonsensical we are and how we tossers would just have no means of a serious topic unless called upon. But he is my china plate, and my best friend and i would ask of nothing more than our friendship in this life. He says he isn't a racist but trust me, hes a fucking racist. Hes born racist. Its an innate nature, this bloke.

AnD We'd MoCk ThE PeOpLE ThAt TaLk LikE ThiS LeH aND NevER Fail TO DeeM thaT As StyliSh ReTARDed DegENEraTes oF Our CounTry As TheY ShOuT OuT To ThE whOLE woRld Saying , " HeY I'm An IdIoT" kekeke

But amidst all the mockery and the things we'd say, Darren and i, we'd head down to jim brown and call the merchant banker from time to time. We'd never ever quarreled or come close to an argument before except to debate who was more style or who was more fucked up. SO whatever im writing now may exemplify nothing of a best friend, but he is one who is there all e time and bothers to keep tabs on how i am doing and i say ditto in aspect to him with no pun intended to e rest of my mates like nicholas, yi en, phebs, gerald and the rest of the gang. Not to mention, i cannot forget the menacing presence of my two senior fuckers, gabriel and eric who have been there with me everytime i need them as well. And so maybe one day Darren and i will write a book together about how dead this city is or bring along with us cockney and london and keep them in our damn hearts. Maybe one day we'll go to london together and study literature and still be nonsensical. Maybe we'd know each other for the rest of our lives and watch our smoker friends die first before we get Alzheimer's or some other disease and just become retarded for the ending part of our lives. Maybe we'll bask in glory with our futures pending but this friendship would have lived and it would always live. So cheers to you chum. and with much love,Fuck you you old jeezer and may our mark on this God forsaken planet live for eternity.
Hope you tear the stage down with trooper mate.

And i just have to mention this one.

Benjamin Han. ( The preexisting friend )
One of the clowns that i would call nonchalant, but a piece of lying lazy shit would be apt. We'd been friends since secondary school and he'd take all my shit even till now. Needless to say, i would take his too. I'd call him at senseless hours in the morning just to disturb him and he'd return the love with a slur of vulgarities. We would hang up and that was that. Now you would think that we confide in each other and we probably have secrets. Truth is, Ben and i? We got none and thats cause we don't really talk about ourselves. We scold the shit out of each other, we jump school from time to time to eat like we never ate before or watch some movie. This tosser isn't one that talks about himself and i guess I'm used to his shit. For a friend, you could say Ben was one fucking nut who could care less, but really, you're going to realize thats what makes Ben, Ben.

My sweet escape.
And theres one extraordinary being thats made my months sweet, and my week smashing. I've talked about her more than once, in poetry, in poetry and well, in poetry. Shes taught me a lot about myself before like how i never really knew who i was or had seemed to be someone different every damn time. She had taught me how i never really knew how to take care of myself and how i had seemed to never take care of my knee and all. But anyway, i could go on and on about how smitten i am and it probably be too much for you guys to take. Truth is, i really am into this girl and it doesn't seem to matter how long everything takes because we better relish the now before it becomes then and irrevocable. So that's her boys. The most stunning person to my eyes and the most sweetest person in my heart.And to say the least, I have never been happier.

Cheers mates.
May we all live forever.

2007-07-11T23:46:00.000+08:00

Fa Cup Third Round 2006, Anfield Stadium
Liverpool - Arsenal.
3-1 Loss

You would expect the crowd to be caught in a deafening silence. The kind of silence that only disappointment and gaping eyes could produce. One that would marinate the audience with much sorrow and pain. After all, this was Anfield. But at the 85th minute, when surely all faith was gone and depleted with the first 80 minutes of rampant cheering, this silence was inevitable. The fucking jeezers would mock us scousers, the mancunians would go on about their wonder boy, and the critics would fuck around about how we fired blanks. All that, was dawning and the jeers seemed to be imminent. Amongst the crowd, i was one of those fans that would say fuck a million times inside of me and just sit down and let the bad rats sink in to my already sick stomach. Yet it wasn't that day, January the 6th 2006 that the crowd was to go home in bitter defeat or yet, silence. It was with admirable faith and love for a club. Yes this was the day that even the fucking mancunians would go home and wished that their fans shared the same love.

When you walk through a storm
hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm is a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.

Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone.

And as the crowd sang, the loss faded, the scoreline forgotten. 3-1 down. 3-1 down at the death of the game. We were beat. We had lost and we were going out of the fa cup. Yet at 3-1 down, the crowd sang at a volume i would swear i had never heard before. They had sung louder and louder to celebrate faith in the Kop. And as Steve Finnan kicked the ball into the sidelines with some good defending, the crowd never stopped singing, or cheering. The view at Anfield that night was a solemn affair. We might have gone out 3-1 losers. But we had gone out with not only pride and grace, but as a unit. Anfield was more one than ever that day and i bet you could picture it. Picture the fact that at 3-1 down, you'd sing your clubs theme in unison louder than any group of mancunians that day or any array of honking cars in traffic or the blabber of our trouble and strifes combined. You could very well picture it. I could.

The truth is I have never been to Anfield or been a step near it. I have never been close enough to smell the air at Melwood or know what its like to be in the stands. I've never been to abbey road and really, i have never sung the song out loud. I do not know the scenes where we last won our title some twenty years back and i had never sat a full game to see how Toshack, Dalglish or Rush ruled the game while we were still king. I had come in to support Liverpool FC at a time when Steve Mcmanaman was coming up the ranks, When Karl Heinze Riedle would bag the goals and Fowler would do a special or Berger bring the net down. Yes those were the times that i could recall as a liverpool fan. In front of the television screen. I know nuts about its culture to say the least. I don't know who died and i never saw Crazy Horse play. But i know something, that in my heart, that day, or most days, Anfield was home. Anfield still is.

Owen had come in on his debut against Wimbledon in our colors of yellow then. He would go on to score aplenty, become a Kop favourite and leave us for the Santiago Bernabeu. But a new number ten came along and he brought with him a spanish flavor one would fine hard to forget. Sanz Luis Garcia. A cheeky maestro, The midget of a spaniard would breeze through defender after defender with the cheekiest of flicks and death touches to send the crowd cheering after a jubilant finish. Sure he'd make a few mistakes and give us pain and hair pulling experiences, but this little spaniard would also send us through to the finals of the champions league, bagging goals against Juventus and Chelsea. He would prove his point again, making sure the ball had gone past the line this time in a repeat game against the Blues. The hair band and thumb sucking celebrations would be marred by injury that took him out for the whole season. We finished with a respectable third placed position and much was unsure for any Liverpool player with the opening of the transfer window. And yes, Garcia leaves Anfield with Fernando Torres coming in.

You would think that i would be thrilled by such a capture, that for once a club like ours would have a big time signing and yes, you bet i was. Who fucking wouldn't ? But let us choose to keep inside of us, Our little Spaniard for he had come from Barca, to give us joy.

To the future at Anfield, cheers to the arrivals of Lucas Leiva, Yossi Benayoun, Fernando Torres and the impending arrival of Ryan Babel and that maybe one day, i would be amongst the stands with all the scousers at the merseyside derby of my life and tell the fucking Toffees to lay the fuck off. And i'd probably get beat, i'd probably get beat to a pulp, heck i might ascend to the gates of st Peter but you know what, i'd ascend as a scouser. To say the least, i would have been there.

To the devils at trafford, the mancunians at emirates, the blues at stamford and with so much love, the fucking toffees at fucking goodison park, let the fucking bloodshed begin for this is more than a two horsed race. This is the fucking EPL.

2007-06-14T04:27:00.000+08:00

The"Choreographer"

She loves her clothes, especially their prints.
She matches them all, the colors and all.
She takes a little long
Sometimes shes late
But when she's done, i stand in awe.
You say I'm biased, You say she blinds me
Maybe you're right
Shes late most of the time.
But thats all right, thats ok.
Its her i see, at the end of the day.

She fancies food as long as they're worth.
It didn't matter where they were,
She'd go anyway.
She'd like her food all fresh and tasty,
Maybe along, with lots of chili.
She has these cravings that really aren't wrong
Thats why shes been wanting her bar chor mee.
She gets a little grumpy when the food takes long
but when the food finally comes, she might hum a song.

A little hot tempered
Like a small child
But never ill mannered
Neither too wild.

So she's a little hot tempered,
A little late at times.
Her stomach growls from time to time
Though i only hear it in the cinemas.
She grumbles when the food takes long
And she cries at the movies too.
Thats the few idiosyncrasies that i know
but she too knows my peccadilloes.
People call these imperfections
But arh, this is the good stuff.
This is what makes her mine in my eyes.

Shes forgetful on things,
but not every single thing.
She knows me to always have buts,
That i cant take care of myself for nuts.

Shes beautiful to me
Shes beautiful to me
Not just how she looks
But who she is.
Shes beautiful to me.

Theres so much more that i could say
To show you just how much i feel
All her strengths and what makes her gay,
How she's all just so so real.
But its 415
And thats really late
its not that I'm not keen
Her calls on my wait.

This isn't just a random write
It really is a sincere plight.
A plight i say for i like this belle,
come to think of it i miss her now.

I missed her then.
I miss her now.
I think shes calling.
Just obviously not now.

This is how i spent my hour
This is how i thought of her.
This is how i think of her.
This is for the choreographer.

2007-06-05T04:01:00.000+08:00

Morning you blokes, its 4 fuckin am in the morning.

Im tired bushed and could sink like a sack of potatoes.

But to say just one thing, I used to think i was just about the poorest soul on earth

Well fuck me.

Ha see the lad smiling right back at you on the top right hand corner of your screen with a rather charming but smug smirk on his face?

Yeah well somethins changed already eh.

Someone's come.

She's fetch me by.

And thats one heck of a sweet escape.

So cheers to gravity and the laws of science ya blokes.

*p.s. Shes beautiful.

2007-05-13T14:18:00.000+08:00

Without a doubt

I can remember the previous times and sometimes i can even remember how it was like in primary school or in kindergarten with the very first crush. I remember it was a rather ugly drawing of a girl that really, looked more like a boy, with the words, i like you, in Chinese. And trust me, at k1, the word "xi" was quite a bitch to write. So anyway, i remember as far back as then. It wasn't even anything special. She just looked, kinda cute. Long hair tied up with green rubber bands and a white hair band, i remember that girl though the impression is rather vague.

I look at me now some 15 years later and its still the same story. well just about the same in that theres something about someone again, only deeper cause well after all I'm 19 and not 9. So i had spent my time at certain intervals of school looking out for someone. I remember that i told myself to let anybody know when it comes; That wave of uncertainty when shes there and yet that bold tract of heart. Its a feel to share at this juncture.

It has come and it truly is here.

Choreograph my fall.

.

2007-05-04T16:50:00.000+08:00

So the ruckus of a moment comes when you think that you're either fucked or in some kinda confused dilemma and its arguable to mention which is suicide when the latter happens. All right bless me with the fact that i have two legs and a brain. But God's a real genius. Not only are we all self fulfilled prophecy from time to time we are self problem creating beings on this side of earth. Forget the other side, they're probably thinking when to flood us.

But heres a little something to sit down and think about.

You go back, way back, and you think you could have made your life better if you changed a few things? we're fucked. One way or the other but take comfort in the fact that fucked comes in all shapes and sizes and thats, the epitome of life and john lennons a real prick of a genius to say whatever happens to you while you're making plans is life and just maybe thats why he dead.

We spend our whole lives owing explanations when theres no need for one.
everybody jus talk too much. asks too much. Expects too much.

Ibid.

2007-04-30T17:56:00.000+08:00

This Day

Sometimes the days are tough.
Sometimes the days are easy.
Sometimes i dont care.
Sometimes i have no control.

But today i know it may be tough
Yet i know it may be easy
But still i dont care.
Even if i have control.

I know im waiting.
I know you're there.
That i do care.
That i must be aware.

Hence i'd wait.
i'd wait.
and i'd wait.
And it still wouldn baffle me.

Such is the beauty of this day.
Which ever makes all thus gay.
Maybe its you.
Maybe its me.
But i know im in love
with this day.

-sweet escapes-

2007-04-29T12:56:00.000+08:00

The good or bad

I seem to have been here before
saying something similar
But never had i felt this raw
to something that just got simpler

I saw someone who took my breath
A girl who walked with so much brace
and even when i knew she'd take that path
I just could not talk to that pretty face

Then the time came when a chance arose
Good or bad i still dont know
But yet to know her was what i chose
Good or bad i still don't know

A little hot tempered
A little loud
But definitely not too pampered
Nor a little too wild

Shes made my day
With her being her
I dont know how to say
Its just all so clear

But I was that foolish boy
who thought all was gone
That very boy
who seemed forever down

But now that boy
has got this girl
Good or bad
he finally knows

Yet all is now back into shape
so she may be his sweet escape.

I'd wait. And i'd wait. And it'd still wouldn baffle me.

2007-04-28T17:04:00.000+08:00

-sweet escapes-

There are many things that i would say, so much more that i might probably do to give it some sort of meaning or action.

There isn't much on the other hand that i could do in a split second or a day.

Yet there is so little to help suggest what i feel or what i wish to do.

Only time could suggest such notions.

If an endless hole was present, it'd be used to describe how im feeling for i truly do not know how deep this can go.

I'd show it to you everyday.
and
I'd irregardlessly ignore the passage of time, and wait.

-cupcake-

2007-04-06T05:24:00.000+08:00

Dont make em teach you. Let em.

We are all a common people. There is no jurisdiction to how we should live or who we should be; At least that is what it should be. Unfortunately, we are dealt with what is rather than whats not. Many of us feel a need to do things in a certain way that is different. Some of us feel that we need to do things textbook, routine, something we call protocol.

If we just believe that there is something out there as well as something in us, then we allow that heart to shine, you'd be surprised how a small light could light up the darkest of tunnels. The people that have lived life or so thought they have, say that they are realists. Some, extremists with no explanation through any course of speech or word to exemplify their beliefs but rather through actions. We have idealists that go on about an idea and extend on that. Yet there is nothing wrong in any of the three because time is seized. The day is seized. Carpe diem occurs.

I say this because some of you, like myself, are escapists. We refuse to let ourselves shine as children do. We choose to take things as they were never there hoping that one day it will go away. We have ideals, we have extreme beliefs, we have realisms stemmed right in our heads through situations,limitations, family and expectations but all of that has been closed on one eye left to rot on the 9/10 of the brain that we dont use. We choose to forget what we can do. We choose to forsake biting the bullet. We choose to run, to constantly run, in a tunnel without lights.

Its done with trying to impress a few people or that one girl or how a few people say you are someone of a certain calibre and leaves you just on cloud nine for nine minutes because its who you are at thend of the day that counts. What you've done, what you've accomplished, not what you're capable of doing or what could have been. Nothings concrete till its up there. We are all trapped in this facade, this phase of life thats blinding whats in front. I'm 19 this year. Very soon, im going to get myself graduated and to National Service which again to me is the jurisdiction of who i should be. That aside, is that an excuse? That im 19 and i should live life while i can? TO ONLY Club my nights, smoke my nights, party my nights, work my ass on clothes cabs and lavish dinners?

We live a life too damn short to say we are who we think we are and that what we do is right or wrong for the matter. For a minute we are all naive enough to think that our life is on a low, that our life couldn get worst that we wanted to die, or perish or disappear or forget the past. For a minute, we think that we are dead ducks, that we are done. For a minute, we think that the common boy who fails his o or a levels is a dead worker, a dead Dolly. For a minute we think that the girl is the only girl, that we lost the one true love. For a minute, we think that effectively our lives are over. It is for a minute Because the subsequent minutes my friend, should be spent on thinking how wrong that is. How dumb that is; How fucking senseless that is to even go near that idea.

We call this a phase that we go through. Its ironic because we know that we are like this because we are 19, 18, 17. We know that we will grow out of it. Sometimes we know its stupid to behave in certain ways. We know its wrong to be lazy and do stupid things or get hung up over girls and get stuck on drugs and admitted to the juvenile homes and courts. We owe our ass wipings to our parents. Whatever else that happens, we owe it to ourselves. We are going through a phase that we have created on our own; that in some ways we have laid down even, ground rules as to how you should behave or live our life at a certain age. We have one life so fuck the rules and whats been.

We have one life. I dont know where we go after this but you make one change, you change everything. Do this one thing while you're reading this though. Humor me and do it. Look at your life, at yourself and ask, how could your life be the worst. How could you be the worst in any aspect at all ask, how or is it even near the truth, that you are the worst, that your life is the worst. We all have our fair share of problems in life. Ya do it right you move fast. ya do it wrong, learn from it, teach it. Dont make em teach you. Let em teach you. We are all different but we are by all means the same as well. Make that fact happen. That fact that we all similarly, can instil a sense of difference in us. Im not saying we should all be saints and help the poor or teach the intellectually disabled but ignite that fire in you because it will liberate the world, if not one person. Pay it forward. I'll Rec the film or the novel cause it is the splendid notion of helping millions when we help one person. I've said it before. What you do for yourself withers, dies and rots with you. What you do for others, is immortal.

Dont let anyone make you feel you are not as attractive or appealing or smart as another person. Dont let anyone tell you they are better than you. You fight for your freedom, not escape and settle for second best. I dont care if you're indian, or chinese, or malay or a foreigner. Aller you the same. The same in that we all can shine; to be immortal.

To you,

What i feel for you, words cannot be said for. To come in my life now, could be a time never more apt. Thank you for i am finally sure.

2007-04-01T01:06:00.000+08:00

There comes a time in life where we are caught in the edge of reason. Why we do certain things and why we are here. The common rhetorical question that has an answer within jus waiting to come out. The biggest crime that can happen is not to take a life, to kill rob or steal. The biggest crime isto waste your time away because you'rekilling yourself. So very slowly. Spend theday as if it was your last and look not backwards. You only have this life to live. don waste it on whats unnecessary. Look at it and relish it with whats deserved of a life ahead.

Dont wonder about what might have been or what could have been or what should have been.

Because nothing can beat what is now; And what will be.

And what is now and what will be is something that noone can take away from you.

Its yours.

Nothing can beat what is now.

2007-03-28T10:40:00.000+08:00

I sleep earlier as the nights go by
I wake earlier as my eyes go dry
I see you when my eyes awake
I see you when my eyes forsake

Tell me when this pain will end
Before i get to see you again
To touch you
To feel you
To have you again
Tell me when this pain will end

It does not matter
Now i see
for loving thee
needs no silver platter
I love you then
I love you now
That cant change
no matter how.

2007-03-28T10:26:00.000+08:00

There was once a man that had the love of his life but he let it slip away.

There was then a man that had the love of his life but let it take the test of time.
She slipped away.

There is now a man that has the love of his life slipping away.

This man who now feels a foolish boy will though, love her, nonetheless.

I am that foolish boy.

2007-03-26T03:31:00.000+08:00

I've been expressed sometimes as someone deep; someone too deep that thinks too much. There are times when people express me as someone emotional' someone to emotional. I reckon that maybe half of you are right. Because most of these impressions are based on the writings i have here when in fact i realize i have not written with enough thought at all. Some people call me Joe, some people call me Ryan though sometimes i dont even know which one i prefer. Maybe its Bash i like. Yeah it is. Im a media student with aspirations to be a writer yet i have written nothing to suggest such prowess or interest. I never thought to be one that is mushy. I still dont. Im a romantic and i say carpe diem. Even if i sound stupid to all of you nice ladies and gentlemen, at least i say whats in my heart. We all yearn a certain acceptance but that does not need conformity.

Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in the wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference."

Most men lead lives of quiet desperation. I have spent my days since my return helping the needy children at youth risk outfits. I have ironically become something i once thought was excrement. Im a social worker now; a voluntary worker that helps people that need help. But this is no action to impress because i can assure you that the man i was would have done this to impress. The man i am feels carpe diem.

Im not a very smart man. But i do know what love is. As an officially self declared romantic, i say its never been more clear to me. Our lives are a play and it is till now that this powerful play is ongoing and all it asks, is for us to contribute a verse; a verse to form a stanza. A stanza to form a poetry for there is a poet in all of us. There is rhythm in all of us. We aspire to the vaious walks of life as doctors, policeman biotechinicans or even cleaners. These are wants and necessities. But the essence of love and family, prose and poetry, this is what we live for. We dont read or write em because it is cute as John Keating quotes.

I have come to realize that there are men that have spent their lives deep in thought, but none in expression. Let us not be men in quiet desperation. Say what you feel and practise what you preach and live life for its every moment because it will not pass us by again. I wish not to come to die and realized i had never lived. Carpe Diem.

It is here that i return to you the gift of love. Our story shares no similarity with the common tales. My love extends beyond the laws of science or the rules of life for it is without logic. It cannot be defied nor challenged. It is not with mind, for thy love for you is all nothing but heart. Worry not that you cannot express for it is me that wishes to express. Worry not of how you feel for me for i feel for you.

I have neither the riches of cars nor the gifts of lavish
I have no past and the past has no me
I have not money, i have not fame.
I promise you, nothing near a guaranteed life of such

But i promise you me, for now and tomorrow till the end of days.
Words are your diamonds, i am your wedding.
For you i can.
For you i will.

I could love you forever
I could kiss you forever
Your touch and smile,
My love,
I would hold you forever.

2007-03-23T02:38:00.000+08:00

Have you ever wondered if you make the moments in your life; or whether the moments make you. All of us, continue to choose to believe that the world has something hidden, it has something that we do not know of but the more i take a look at this world, the more i suspect that the world somehow knew, that we were coming.

If there was one thing in your life that you could change, would you change it? And if you did, would it definitely make your life better? we go through a series of what ifs and what nots but its gratitude that life is not made up of these subjunctives, or we all might just be sitting ducks in a corner. This phase is not something we live through. It is a phase that we are creating. It takes alot for one person to know what he or she wants to do so it takes a greater effort for two and three and so on. Sometimes, people dance around the wonders of money and live their life, all the way through which till now seems to have no basis of wrong or right in it.

I never thought i could write. Noone told me before. I never knew i could play or perform. but maybe its not that i never knew, maybe its just that, i never thought. There are far too many things we have seen or we have come to even know to suggest how our life should or should not be; whether its good or bad, sucky or the worst. Take this with you though, that from a basis of allowing yourself to shine, you liberate others and allow them to shine. We are all meant to shine, like children do.

" People see things as they are, and ask why. I dream things as they never were, and ask
why not."

Robert Bobby Kennedy

2007-03-19T18:43:00.000+08:00

It is often a wonder how sometimes we are troubled and choose to be left out in a corner as though no way out could be found. It is often a wonder how sometimes we seem to be able to judge somebody and not look at ourselves or look past the fact that whatever happened, has happened. What amazes me most, is how sometimes, we can resort to suicide thinking our life cannot be any worst. It is at that point in life, when we deduce that our lives are the worst, are we really losers.

We live our life, day after day, trying to edge closer to a certain motive, to a certain goal and to me thats fine. But what then? What happens after that? I look back on my life and i think i'v emade more mistakes than most of you readers out there. I've made quite a few and i cant say they were accidental cause most of them were dumb. Its not what happens that makes you, its what happens after. Theres nothing that can ever ever be too late. I've lost family, my mother in particular whcih killed a certain part of my life but thats certainly no excuse. Even so, the moment when you think you rlife sucks because you are poor, or because you failed your grades or you think you are ugly for the matter, think out for the fact that someone out there doesn even have family. What have we done for this world remains unseen and i dare to say that.

What have you done for this world? Because what we do for ourselves, leaves with us. What we do for others, lives with the world and remains forever immortal. Im not saying this is your goal. Im saying that your life is no worst than any other being out there. The man up there works in mysterious and not so mysterious ways and when trouble gets stuck right in your face dont think its too late. Its not. We have no explanation for the fragility of life but what we have is its remedy to accept. I'm 19 and i've done nothing. yet. But whose to say its too late?

You stand up and you fall down. Over and over and over again. But theres something in all of us that nobody can touch. And thats hope. we aint losers no more. Just get up and go again.

2007-02-20T05:01:00.000+08:00

Aunt: “Darling I must buy disposable underwear for you.”

Me: “What for? It’s not like I don’t have underwear.”

Aunt: “You don’t have 25 of them.”

Take off is an independent film about a boy ( Seng Joe) who is leaving for Europe on Friday and appears much less prepared than he thought was.

"So I’ve got my clothes packed, Or maybe I haven’t but I have them packed in my mind so technically I’m packed yet hypothetically speaking, I’m dead."

To think they often talk about planning to travel.
Joe has dissed the people that do feel that way.
That includes the man that fathers him. Nonetheless, this take off
is here to rid the bad for the good .

So anyway, i figure life's a movie. Let's all make it one. Someone's watching sometime. So cheers to a new blog format.

So if you haven’t noticed, this is a revamp. An attempt at a simple layout with a fusion of pictures that describe my time as a kid, my grotesque views of the simplest of things and my vision to old age. A person once asked, and still asks why do you have to be critical of everything? I still don’t know. Saardonnik refers to the pronunciation of sardonic. That’s you, and ironically me. So welcome abroad. To new writes of me, for you.

2007-01-05T10:07:00.000+08:00

"Thoughts"

If i could i wouldn want to see you again.
You never tried to understand me, or us for the matter.
If i could, i would forget you.
I hope it comes soon.
You care for only yourself.
And forget whatever happened before.
Because of that you are not worth.
For all i've done and gone through, you will never know.
It doesn change what you did to me.
And you will never know what we or the people think of you.
Your life is all perfect now and its obvious you're better off cause you don care about my side.
Well i hope you sit down and reflect cos you're going to realize
you're way off.
Nonchalant.

2006-12-31T11:00:00.000+08:00

It is the 31st of december, the last day of the year 2006.

I hope that everyone makes a new start. Sometimes it may seem as if the year is the same or just another year, yet it essential that it is in fact, afterall a new year. A new january february and what have you.

Do something different, if not do the same thing, but try harder.

Freedom has been granted, whats left is how and what we make of it.

Happy new year.

2006-12-29T04:13:00.000+08:00

Thoughts of a non believer

If you miss the train Im on, you will know that I am gone.

Often enough, we feel the need to run away. Or we feel the want to run away. We wish that everything will go away just so we can feel better or forget easily. If that were possible, we’d all be ungrateful beings, fast forwarding our lives to whatever is pleasant and forgetting the unpleasant with a swipe. Fortunately, if I may say that is not possible, we go through our lives second by second, with no forgetting or fast forwarding or in some cases, rewinding. That probably contributes to how we age, or how fast we age. It definitely contributes to who we become. We call that maturity.

Most of us live through life having to go through it because of where we are. Some of us have the chance to go elsewhere and start anew. Sometimes, it is inevitable to want to be born in another time, at another place with another family. At least it is so for my case.

A little community in a little town works at times. Its less complicated. But yet this no longer is an issue of running away or starting anew, it is the courage to leave a place this dear and on to a place that really suits you.

Au revoir.

You can hear the whistle blow, a hundred miles.

2006-12-24T07:33:00.000+08:00

Regret comes in all shapes and sizes. Some are small , like when we do a bad thing, for a good reason. Some are bigger, like when we let down a friend. Some of us escape the pangs of regret by making the right choice. Some of us have little time for regret, because we're looking forward to the future. Sometimes we have to fight to come to terms with the past. And sometimes we bury our regret, by promising to change our ways. But our biggest regrets are not for the things we did... but the things we didn't do. The things we didn't say that could save someone we care about.

So if anything at all, i think this christmas is apt to take it all in our stride and look ahead. It is a known fact that we all cannot turn time. I believe that everyone of us can though, change. One man can make a difference to life and nothing is too late. It is not here that you question who to believe in or whether to believe in me or a higher power. It is here that we begin by believing in you.

My name is Choy Seng Joe, though i might have preferred Ryan because of how much simpler it is to call. I live in a little place known as the lion city. More specifically i live in a litle place people call the red light district. Vividly we all have impressions of a place, and i can pretty much picture the kind of impression you're having right this moment. But believe me if you take a walk down, you are gonna see prostitutes and old men prying their eyes on them. You will see people of all colors and you will see a living. Maybe they look differnt and do things that are vastly different, but everyone of us has a little bit of something thats similar. Take a closer look. Because wehumans aren as enigmatic as we deem, we're just self creating enigmas that do not exist of ourselves. We are in fact, similar in some ways, jus yearning to receive a helping hand.

There comes a day when we all feel lost, distraught and near the brink of giving up. We have teenage suicides, gun shots within a class, children dying from gunfire or a fight among themselves.

That is all not supposed to happen.

These kids, pretty much like you and i, have schools to attend, grades to attain and expectations to live up to. And then there are those, that are constantly made fun of, that evenmight have wished their existence would be of no importance to the students in a school just so they would not be disturbed. And when these students are pushed to a corner where they cannot take that anymore, action equals reaction.

That is all not supposed to happen.

Parents grieve, and adults flare beacuse they've been there, they'v ebeen kids before, they know the bullies, the prejudice and what have you but it is because they got through it and their sons or daughters did not that cause them to grieve. We are all supposed to get past it.

Nothing is worth taking a life. Because life has much installed for us. We are supposed to get by
all of it because theres a silver lining for all of us. We are supposed to get by the loss of a loved one, thebreakups, the bad grades, or even the fat moments. It is a process that we all go through. UNfortunately, not all make it. But take your time. A new year is still in the making.

2006-12-21T07:32:00.000+08:00

Secrets and its lovers.

EVery human being is bound by something. By choice, by situation, by a person and of course by an event that enfolds into a secret. That secret sometimes is not ours to keep or disown. It is then of course needless to say that it is not our say to divulge or not. Honesty is a very very lonely word and its not because the whole world is evil trust me on that. Ive been through a life of secrets that i cannot divulge and the thing about secrets is that one thing leads to another. If youdecide to say one, you're gonna haveto say itall without feeling the tension or guilt that you wentback on your word to another someone or family member. If you decide to not say at all, thenkeep it at that and make sure nothing badhappens so you have to divulge it. But the worst, the worst of all is when you say a few and you leave out some because the people stop believing who you are. They arent even clear about who you really are at all. At that point in time, it is nobodys fault. Fault lies with timing. But at the point when that happens, take comfort inthe fact that the truth will cometo light and they will know eventually. Or some for some cases, they never know at all, but still, take comfort.

THe biggestthingabout having secrets or being born into a family of secrets is the things you lose because of these secrets. Sometimes, too much mystery is not healthy at all because it helpspeople to change how they lookatyou. Be it good or bad, funny or not, it is an ongoing process at thisvery minute that im typing all this. And yet it is nobodys fault.

I'm born into a family, a world of secrets. Im born into situations that i thought i would never face but i had to anyway. I wouldn say i did great because i screwed up at some points, and ilost some people along the way. But its just i'd say. I have done my part in keeping the secrets begun by people before me. I have done my part in being the man who i believe to be. And it is here before every single being that i say, the secrets and its lovers are to bejudged. We all are. But to judge is not a sin, an err, or a bad deed. It is a nature.

Yet love is surreal, sparked by the smallest of incidents. Some of it starts off like alittlefire and goes on burning for eternity. Some, start off big and goes off in a minute or under. And then there arethose, that light up in the most sporadic of moments trying to light up everytime they can. I feel theinsulator behind this spark are the secrets andits lovers. Because we leave out too much of what we feel and we dont care to say it out. Because we take an extinguisher when the fire is already out or hasalready burnt things down. Or sometimes, we have things to say but cant say it out because we are bound; bound by the secrets and its lovers.
Then again, it is better to be late than never. Clearance is a mighty feeling. It is the sort of departure that leaves serenity in all that we do and feel.

Sometimes, it is not about owning what makes you happy. It is about seeing what makes you happy. I guess what i'm saying here is that we live our lives feeling sorry for ourselves about how we could have said this, how we could have said that. The thing is we're not dead yet. You me we're stillwalking this planet. Honesty has no punctuality. So take your time. It takes a great deal to be honest. It takes a greater deal when you're late. Many of us, we feel bad about the things we do, we feel bad when things that we cannot control hurt the people around us but yet there is not much one can do about it. Because all of you need to understand that at one point in time, they will hate you, they will loathe you but not for eternity because hate is too heavy to carry. I 've hated people, hated faith, hated whats dead, hated the secrets im bound by because of ego, money, status, and love. But the thing is you realize you get so tired htinking about it you just stop hating it.

I believe that all of us, want something. But that want, is not determined by possession and ownership. I know that. I realize that. If something i want can be mine, i am content. If something i want cant be mine but is or may be better off away, i am even more content because by paying that notion forward, others learn as well and you let others shine by accident as well. It is good because we dont know, all of us dont know how high we can climb or how great we really are. Everyone of us, has goodness. I was very sour when my mother left. i was very sour when my sister migrated and there are many things im sour about. But i know they're happy. I know you are happy so i am too. It no longer matters what happens here on out, because i know they will find their way. It is no enigma because we in fact are connected somehow, spiritually, technologically or even emotionally.

I thought i knew alot about love, that i was mature. Actually i dont. I blame the fact that my mother is gone still. I sometimes blame the fact my sister migrated. I blame the fact that i went to church. Ieven blame the fact that i decided to play soccer and then skip to tennis and go back forth, unable to make ends meet and nearly going to the brink of losing the both of them. Love sometimes is conditioned by secrets. Everybody has secrets. And that secret doesn even have to mean bad. A secret can exemplify how much you love aperson but because you dont say it, you dont show it or you cant show it, you cant say it because you are bound, it thenbecomes a secret on its own and the other secrets or the other feelings you contain, or even what might have been if you did say it then becomes its lover.

In this christmas season, we have love, warmth and gifts. Everyone has one trust me. But the truth is its not about what you have, its about what you can give so the world can feel the spirit. It is about realizing what everybody has. Love. And love even then, is not about owning. Its about feeling. People must make mistakes. We must. Because the firsttime we have something, we have no fuckingclue how important it is. When we lose it, we know a great dela and we then mature. If we are lucky, we get it back. If we're not, we take comfort in our progress and make thenext one better. Im no philiosopher or a guru, neither am i a flirt, a liar, a nice guy, a gentleman or an athlete. Im an 18 year old student that loves to write, that loves to sing, that loves to run around be crazy. But im like you,in that we have secrets. THings we dont say because we forgot or we din realize was important or agian, things we couldn say.

If it was ever my choice to recreate this world, this would still be it. Without loss and complexity, there is no understanding of love. I know what my loving is about. And i know its christmas. So think not about getting something in return, do give. Because it is helping people realize what they have, that you realize who you are.

Im 18 years old, coming nineteen and im already satisfied with who iam despite the fucking trialsin my life that werent even my mess. Im not glad but im satisfied and im excited to know the kind of guy i can be and will be. So cheers mates, the secrets and its lovers dont haunt you. THey just help you to understand who you are because really sometimes, even the truth has its timetable. wait, be patient and it will all come to a clearance.

Do remember to feel and try to see
what others see and feel for we all have different lives.
Let the pain come because desolation goes away once you
are ready.
It is then that consolation comes. Embrace everything because its the season of giving.

For you. I see nothing but a distinct gift to this season.
And all i can say to you, is that the only thing that is certain in life is that we will all die.

The world cannot wait for you. But someone will. Take comfort in that.

Happy Christmas people. Embrace.
Grant me immortality.
So i may always be here for another season.

Au Revoir.

2006-12-10T15:39:00.000+08:00

I think an estranged summary to sum up my days would be strange and beautiful. Like what i was telling a friend on the phone, the essence of having something that was herebefore you is an experience that allows you to soar beyond what you think you can do which truly is an enlightenment but anyway Having found the love of my life and liverpool coming through 4-0 winners last night, my day was complete.

You. I din expect to see you since primary school but im glad we met up. Hope all works out for you with ur results and all.

This is new for me because im actually writing about myself. But i guess giving myself a little bit of pampering wont hurt.

Funny thing is, how little i am able to write about myself.

2006-12-09T02:05:00.000+08:00

To the people yet to hit army or an impending commitment,

It is not how good you are, but how good you want to be.

I’ve been constantly giving myself excuse and reason to run away.

I’ve been telling myself everything is going to be all right when I’ve done nothing.

So perhaps it’s about time everything has a resolution, a denouement. A revelation.

I need to get up and get what’s mine.

I need to get up and get myself signed up for driving because there actually is a car waiting for me.

I need to get up because I may or may not have enough time.

I need to quit feeling restricted because we all are.

Until we die, then are we free.

I need to stop thinking I owe the whole world a living.

I need to stop thinking that i'm an ass to be with.

I need to start believing i am a new person in my own new chapter.

In fact, I need to start being me for what I have because I am that damn good at some things.

But then again,

It is not how good you are, but how good you want to be.

So to those who have found a purpose, Cheers.

To those that haven’t, Good luck.

To those that haven’t a clue to what I’m saying, Merry Christmas.

(And I really hope you have a blessed year)

We don’t run because we have to, we run because the path is straight and never-ending. We run because we forget there’s time to rest, that there’s still a greener side. If we wait long enough.

2006-11-18T13:36:00.000+08:00

Over the months, i've established what i wanted to do and whati feel to do and i think for some strange reason that i want to push myself to write more. Aight, nuf of all this formal manners, the writings.

(This was part of a school exercise. Beginning and ending was given and the middle had to be written. Enjoy.)

Kevin grew tired of his books so he began to draw idly on a blank sheet of his exercise book. He first drew a circle, then put in smaller circles for eyes, nose and mouth. The face looked pitiably meager, so he drew in two loops for ears and spikes for hair…

This is a story about a boy, not just any boy but a boy, a boy called Kevin who for some reason started drawing instead of reading and it brought much more to him than he would have ever expected.

Kevin was an introvert, one who loved books and what not but as we all know, one day some of us just get tired. A new hobby surfaced as countless pieces of paper, including that of the one he just drew, now “stared” back at him, as if begging him to draw more.

Before I continue, this is a story that I have chosen to write because it reflects my time as a child. Before you start to roll your eyes and look away, read on. It’s worth your time.

It was often cold in California during the end of the year where many enjoyed ice skating, or making the snowman. For Kevin, he found himself stuck at home; having no friends, encompassed by the once adored books that now surrounded the empty study.

Being an introvert, he had friends that others couldn’t see, and feelings he could not express. So there was his refuge, as it allowed him to articulate, to speak with his hands.

Kevin Proctor started drawing, and drawing, and drawing. The pieces of papers beautified by his newly discovered talent were images that were non-representational, those that others could never imagine. His first piece of art, Kitty, was his prized possession; one that he felt would comfort him. He hoped desperately, that one day, it might come alive.

Before you think I’m crazy and think that this story does not make sense at all, think twice. This truly is the greatest story ever told. At least, it is to me for this is a story about, like I said, not just any other boy.

Bedtime was at 10pm; always 10pm. Kevin’s parents were fans of the English language. Writers who often wrote most of their books together and hence needed their time for writing. There was to be no drawing, or even reading for the matter. It was time to sleep, and Kevin could argue less about that stringent routine. So sleep he did.

You know how sometimes, when you do things or when you dream things, you know when its real, and you know when its not?

His dreams continued, night after night, for years. Sleeping seemed a hobby too if I might say, for kitty was now “truly alive”. To Kitty, he spoke a lot which was really rare since he was after all an introvert. What stunned his parents was how much he was beginning to say at the dinner table since that very first dream.

Kevin was becoming sociable, throwing his old self behind. It was rejuvenation.

All things come to an end. Don’t blame me I have got to end the story.

On the night of his birthday, Kevin felt something coming. It was the coming of age. And with that, he knew the dream was about to end. He knew Kitty, would never visit his dreams again.

This is a story about a boy, not just any boy but a boy called Kevin Proctor, A boy that realized that he could not be that quiet boy in the corner, a boy that realized although Kitty was not real, his change was.

He knew it was a dream, every single bit of it, but right now – right now was pure bliss, as might never come his way again, so with a menacing whoop Kevin performed another somersault on his bed and laughed ferociously to see Kitty leap out into the garden in alarm at the unaccustomed sight.

2006-09-16T18:06:00.000+08:00

Somebody told me.

Those who cant teach, play and those who cant play, teach. Yet the idea of a coach is often mixed with ideas of victory and loss. In fact it is only associated to the ranks of win and loss. Needless to say , wins are a vitality in sports but in a most cliche fashion that i can ever say it in, let's not forget value. Not values but value. The value of everyone player.

Ive played in teams, different teams, different sports. Yet i cannot begin to explain how the methods of a coach automatically displays the attitude of a player. A team. The answer to that. Is inconsistency. A team is uniform to be inclined as one. An inconsistency in that displays a team thats either incompetent or ignorant. Yet in this case ironically, ignorance just may be bliss. As long as the axe doesn fall on you.

But its really simple aint it. An individual is nurtured on its own and developed into a better athlete upon joining a team, a school team for instance. He fluctuates in his performance and yet feels no worry for the coach has an authority that is powerful beoynd words. He has the ability to shoot you down and yet also the noble responsibility of picking you up. In my opinion, the essence of a true coach or coaching stuff is as such. If they see a value in a player that they seem to have lost contact with, they seek it and they get it back. Wins are a bag of demographics that the human race sees as competency and that is a harsh reality but in that, there is also humanity.

A belonging is very important. Without that belonging, it takes even the strongest athlete to rebuild his fort of faith and confidence. A coach wins with the team and the team, feels a winner .

But life aint a fucking bed of roses eh mate?

2006-09-09T01:36:00.000+08:00

Give me life for ive been there.

"Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye -- it also includes the inner pictures of the soul."
Edvard Munch

"I want to touch people with my art. I want them to say 'he feels deeply, he feels tenderly."
Vincent Van Gogh

"The aim off art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance."
Aristotle

"All art is an individual's expression of a culture. Cultures differ, so art looks different."
Henry Glassie

"My contribution to the world is my ability to draw. I will draw as much as I can for as many people as I can for as long as I can. Drawing is still basically the same as it has been since prehistoric times. It brings together man and the world. It lives through magic."
Keith Haring

"A room hung with pictures is a room hung with thoughts."
Sir Joshua Reynolds

I have come to believe that paint, sculptures, drawings is an art of guessing. the art of feeling your subject. it takes a guess. An imaginary guess.

In that, there is a fine line between imagining and imagination beyond borders. A fine line between a calculated guess and a wild guess. You look at the back of your sculptures paintings or corners of your paintings. I happened to come across one in macau. It was a 18th century depiction published in 95. How could someone from 95 know what it was like in the 18th century? Its impossible, no matter how you look at it. (Scientifically of course) That was when i came to the notion that it started with a guess, a positioning and a mindset.

That creativity and wit or even more generally art, stemmed from a guess. No less. Expression is an art and it needs alot. What's a pity is when people do not get you. A feeling is personal, an expression is sadly, open to any views that come our way. It is not what you get and people dont see your motives at times but that also gives rise to another art. Perspective. We are an art. On its own, we have our own identity, combined with others we have a backing if not contradictions.

Art takes a form that we are unfmailiar with because we are not the artist so we use our art of relating to see an objective. In creating an art, we yet have an amazing ability to imagine. A wild guess is when a sky is green and the fields are black. Not to say it is not art but a wild guess that might not be something that people can relate to unless it depicts a mood. Imagining is something we all can do. Subconsciously, we do it all the time. It builds on faith. It is another term for what we visualize. a friend once told me that if you think hard enough, visualize with focus, your imagination comes to life. Yet that is not as sublime as imagination beyond borders. It goes a further step. Not just that people in the past dressed simply but imagining withour borders and yet make sense such as people dressed in white shirts and black pants with a suspenders.

We need to feel who we are describing, their age and time. That does not take knowledge but a guess. Life is a guess . It starts witha guess and we carry on from there.
that guess is no wild one. It is our gut, our instinct and sometimes a guess that has no borders. So much so that it takes us far far away from how real our lives are. Thats where art comes in. Art is our refuge yet it is our present feel to things and as cultures differ, so do we, so does art. It remains an expression that stemmed from a guess and resulted in debate and opinion. Perspective. All one needs to do is to close their eyes and imagine a world they want to feel. Art can be developed they say but only you know what you want. Thats an art , that probably noone might ever feel. Take it. Seize it. The moment is yours alone.

2006-07-26T23:14:00.000+08:00

I think the reason i am back writing is because i feel a continued stagnation will result in a stale stale death.

Courage is a very tender thing because it can be easily forgotten, not by others but by yourself. Its a lonely road up to courage and often we find ourselves mroe alone than ever. The truth is we are so scared that we dont realise there are people just like us. Yet the trigger of a laugh can make so much difference to that decisive step of couragel. I admire the ones who stand out not cause they want to but because they have to. Not becuse people dont expect them to but because they feel to. Nothing is tougher than standing by what you feel to do. And its noones responsibility or ability in fact to make you feel ant other dumb or stupid. For yes indeed,

" THE MOCKERY MADE HIM AN OUTSIDER AND FEELING AN OUTSIDER MADE HIM BEHAVE LIKE ONE."

People are going to talk no matter what, you might as well give them somethin to talk about. Thats what i believe. So in no way am i obliged to think the way people want me to think. Courage is not there to please but there to put a news flash right in our heads. Would we have been strong enough? If not, daring enough to do what he/she did? I say that question comes out scarcely. Even sometimes, to the people who did what they did. But sometimes, there are the people who see what you did and acknowledge what you did was more courageous than life was itself. It rang a bell and it left an impression. I've felt that way before.

The mockery makes one uncomfortable indeed but you must never feel an outsider or feel any different. The only way you can see yourself as different is that you did something that noone else did something that i dare say noone else would ever do even if they stood to gain. Once you feel an outsider, you behave like one. When that happens, you not only give in to the mockery and turn the tables on people that remember your moment of elegance but you also forget your own moment of prestige. But yet it is often that people pull through, and when they do, that is true courage.

You remember what you do, all of it and you take alot with you, for the rest of your life.

And i'm sure you will. For courage is alot more magical than most of us know. Its a pity only a handful of us have it.

2006-05-30T23:51:00.000+08:00

Its amazing how much a person can do for you. Its been happening since 4.30pm today and im glad its all over.With especial emphasis that this blog would not be possible without my girlfriend, insomnia brings to you a new look. ( i love you baby)

Relevance

I think that when you actually sit down and think about how your days are going ta be, or your week or worst, your life, chances are you're scared stiff. Cause what stares back at that vision of yours is blank. You haven a clue. Its funny how some of us spend our lives making sense of how other people's lives work, why they do what they do, mocking what they do or to assume of them whats not. Its funny how some spend their lives just looking at themselves with no consideration to whats ahead at all. The details in life that we miss are immaculate. The irony between us being out for most of our lives and my statement is also yet no where near being vague.

Yes we judge almost without caution or instruction as if it was natural. But it is mans folly to deem it as such. To err is human, i disagree. To err with negligence, that is human. The reason is no stigma. We try too hard to be someone we're not but bear in mind yall, you aint here to please nobody. I don't care what you might think about me, it might affect me but can i change that? only through time but thats not my objective is it. It aint my obligation to lick ur ass or make ya smile, Thats your own obligation.

The beauty of solitude is obscure yet known to be deprived. But whose to say what it stands for? My obscurity towards solitude lies in the question of how much we actually make use of its individualistic mold. Life is often what we make of it. And it is the under privilleged that see more of the world than we do. Because they treasure the things that dont matter to any of us. They gain more insight in to a beauty that we may never be able to explore at all.

By the time we realise it, time has caught up with the vulnerable mind frame man has that we are much older than we think which is most of the time , not true. Our eyes are one of the most complicated parts that one could ever possess, why not work with the brain so we may think, cherish and live life to its fullest? James dean once wrote "Dream as if you'll live forever. Live as if you'll die today." Forget the fact he died young, Remember the fact he lived a life people could talk about not because of what he said of others but what he did for himself. The moment you sit down, you're going to find out you've spent your years taking whats not yours, saying whats not yours to say. You're going to find out you've been living. Living to please the whole fucking world.

Ciao.

2006-05-23T01:18:00.000+08:00

So kudos to all of ya that still read this blogspot, its me again after like what, 5 mins? I jus looked beside me and i must say my girlfriend is my remedy. I think im solely involved with her. Like, i feel so high school. Ive got a test to mug for. So, like, bye.

(p.s. Yes, this was for my girlfriend. Like, i love her and stuff.)

Oh wait,

(p.s. And msn or whoever the hell has a problem with my relationship, i reckon she loves me too. You dont think so? Why dont you tag it right back in the pea brain of yours cos it aint comin out here. No sir. )

hah yes, what a night. Like i said, test. I got a test. Gonna study for it with my girlfriend now so , like, thanks for reading.

2006-05-23T00:43:00.000+08:00

0109am

I'm sitting on bed, rightbeside my girlfriend who is also blogging at this very minute, which in turn for some reason jus gave me the psyche to blog . ABout what i dont know, i haven't a clue so the following may or may not make sense but go with the flow yea? Who knows, it might turn out good.

It is really unjust to say how much you deserve a certain something? because, life, as it is, really never works out the way you want it to? And because there are so many of us, its hard to say whose right and whose wrong, whats fair and whats not. I guess when it comes down to earning whats yours, you just relaly have to work hard for it and when you get it dont worry about proving a point about how you got it , the fact of the matter is this. You got it. And even when like, certain people doubt you, you have your believers, somewhere, out there. I think. But hey whose to say one needs believers to get on with life?

Which brings us right down down down to judgement. Because we all feel right and others feel otherwise we simply dont agree it really is a vicious cycle cos it aint gonna fucking end. People will tell ya what the hell it is they want but wont ask you if ur ok with that? Everyone dont seem to own some sorta reflection or a mirror though they have in fact magnifying glasses to judge you at every time of your life. Judegmental, the whole world is just so critical of your every action so the best is to start out low and end up high. Cos when ur low and down, noones below you you read? You start up high ur gonna have one hell of a ride with people trying to put you down. Thats not sad, not tragic at all people, its just life. You live with that.

I mean, we're all liable to screw up but really all it takes is once. You do a million good things but you kill a puppy even if its by accident, you know you dead. The whole world gonna label you and negate you . Period. They wont remember you walked that old lady off the bus, they sure aint gonna remember you for being a lively player/captain whatever. Cause there are some people, that just wanna bust your ass.

Which really brings up back up to ourselves now doesnt it? your temperament cause its like a bag of beans, its light by nature but you spill it, its gonna be messed up like crazy and God knows just how long you take to fix that one up. It aint no game, neither is it a test of character, thats bullshit. Its just how much you wanna take. You game, ya take all the shit they throw at ya, ur not, you jus give ur ass up and surrender everything that cant be yours no more.

What are we here for? To live life to the fullest? i say ur here cos ur here, no reason. Maybe ur jus unlucky cos someones in heaven, thats for sure. But dont get me wrong, i love the guy, God himself. He aint got nothing to do with how im feeling. But wait, this isn't about me. Folks , you get what im reading to you? Its about life. That you should really jus plan your moves, do em right and dont let noone take anything away from you.

I mean, come on people, nothing ends. Troubles are meant to come your way. Its like bleeding. You wipe it, it goes away, its clean for a while but then it starts bleeding again. Reality check ladies and gentleman. NOthing goes your way, unless ur some big fat low confidence ugly piece of nothing, thenmaybe someone up there takes pity on ya, if not, you make things your way.

The life is yours man. Dont let someone else live it or make it go haywire if not, then ur really pathetic. And for those that remain judgemental all e time, your a bunch of lucky freaks. And please, for Christ sake, remember lifes important lesson, use ur brain man. God gave it to you for a reason. Go figure my drift.

What a post. What a post. Im in awe of my own inabilities.

2006-04-15T01:32:00.000+08:00

Home

To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there. ~Barbara Bush

Home is regarded as one of the most common headquarters of our lives. When we finish our activitis with friends or when we finish with school or work, we say instantaneously. That we want to go home. And many a time when questioned where is our favorite place to rest, the answer is home. Home is, well what is home? Homes to many are constructions of bricks and layers of cement. Homes, to many are their beds, their television sets or their library where they can read and relax.

Home is yet easy to be answered as a place that gives us support shelter and warmth. Home is known as that to almost the whole world which is absolutely correct. But home, is not a building neither is it a bed a television or a book. Home is family. I say sometimes, let me go home as what the song suggests but I realize I’m too far from where my home is. Home is where the family is. My home is in Malaysia, my home is in new Zealand, my home is in Choa Chu Kang and my home is up with those trees but I am just me. Maybe surrounded by a thousand people but I really do feel sometimes, just alone

Home is family. That gives you all the shelter all the warmth and all the support you need, indefinitely. Maybe so that eventually families meet up over time. Maybe that gives rise to what we always call the family tree. Home is not something you lie on when you’re tired, home is not something you rely on when you need it. Home is not a building but yet there is one thing that’s common. They never go away.

I want to go home. Yet I know they are all in my heart some are creating more homes while some, are simply dancing with the wind. Home is not only something we can touch but we can also feel. And the amazing thing about that is, they can feel too.

Home is what you hug, who you love and who you simply cant bear to lose.

Home shouts at you , nags at you but home is always there because you have the key which will always unlock the door to whatever you need.

Now that, is home.

Night, enjoy the song people.

2006-04-15T00:05:00.000+08:00

Dancing with the wind

It was once asked to me, what happens when we die and where do we go? what do we become and where will we be. It was once told to me that God set aside a place that we call heaven , a place where we will eventually find each other. But yet there are many explanations many possibilities and noone can come back from the dead to tell you what is the truth. Here, is my gut instinct. Going all out to you with much careful thought, Enjoy.

Sunshine never fails to make our day. We love the moments to tan, the moments to play and the moments to go out. The sun supplements us with what we want at times and what we need at times. We recognize what it does but predictably we recognize what it cannot do. It is indeed the torment of heat which makes the sun hardly likeable at times. It is the scorching sun that really drains out all energy and causes one to be thus lethargic at times. It is yet so funny how we screw the suns appearance when it is out, and yet hate its absence when it is gone. Humans seem to be the control of life and how things are. I beg to differ.

Rain never fails to make our day. We love the moments to share with our loved ones staying at home tospend time with each other. We love the moments of cuddling with a loved one in bed. We love the company of a few good friends playing our video games. But last but not least, we love the company of coffee and a good book under these rainy circumstances for the mood is set and the feeling so very soothing and yet beautiful. Everything has flip sides. And though we love those feelings that make one feel so immersed in themselves and the atmosphere, we loathe the rain that disrupts our play time, the rude awakening of thunder and lightning as well as the cold it sends out to us every now and then.

We as humans fail to comply with what we have and that is why we are seeking for the best of both worlds always but nothing lasts forever. We need the sun for heat during rainy days and vice versa. We need dry ground when rainy days occur with the help of sunlight. these can occur in one day or in a week. But yet, it is evident that we as humans are no controllers, we are in fact the instruments of life that make it an abstract painting of art. An art of living and also dying if you look carefully. We need these things because we want them. But we cant make them happen for they are all but too natural. We spend our whole lives, needing and shine on diffrent days to decide our mood, our action our day and sometimes even our future. We humans are the instruments benetah the trees. And trees might be of those just beneath the sky, perhaps the sky that we call heaven.

I happen to look up in the skies on one windy day, sunny day and rainy day. One thing so beautiful beyond words never changed no matter what. They were negligent of the weather or the people. I saw the trees sway in such a way that always seemed so ever graceful. The trees were dancing with the wind. yes it was a sight that lef tme flabbergasted but it instilled within me so much idea of how life is like. We live everyday and to some point we die. Like my mother, she lived a fruitful life. Not as long as she might have expected, but still a worthy journey. I believe she has become one of those leaves on the trees or even the trees that we see or even the brances that hold these leaves. Why?

Trees move the way they want whenever they want. They can have rain or shine without complaints without suffer and still dance with the wind so ever graciously . Even if, even if it may be so that they are in need of one of them, their stances are always grateful. Trees are always around us. Always serenading our surroundings and making our life feel so much more coloured and beautiful. I believe that my mother has become these trees or leaves or branches because they are out on top no matter what and they have a perfect view of every single being for no mortal lives up in the sky. And when trees are fallen, when trees are toaken down or died down, it is what we call reincarnation. No matter what people tell me, the sight of those trees then told me a story. They told me where my mother was and they gave me a reason to believe. That trees are there, always, dancing with the wind.

And eventually, all will come home.

2006-04-15T00:00:00.000+08:00

Prejudicial thoughts

We came into earth equal with everything. As unfamiliar as that may seem, it is a disappointment that we have forgotten each and every one of us came with rights. What right, have we to disregard people of what they should have or should not have. Quoting our national pledge, it is indeed “regardless of race, language or religion “

It was a really mellow Wednesday morning. The kinds that blindside you and makes you want to just sit down lay back and do nothing. Think rain was pretty heavy in the wee hours of the morning and hence making the sky look so dead sleepy as if day would never fall, but yet night would never come. Anyways, I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on this family. It played in my mind how family meant and how it really matters no matter who you are. There were 5 of them, a daughter, two brothers who were all little kids a granny and her mother. Anyhow, they were a cute bunch. Know how trains have these two-seater seats and like a window pane and how opposite there’ll be another window pane? That was the situation. The granny and the daughter were on the two-seater and the two brothers with the mom one standing mischievously and another on the lap of their mother. Their smiles were priceless and they really caught my eye despite my constant wanting to doze off.

Stop after stop I watched them until at one stop, an Indian man came in. I would think he was in his mid twenties? Despite his really shabby look, I would think so. He was dressed in the normal pants, a brown shirt that looked rather crumpled and slippers. He had an unkempt and it was clear that he was no one influential. It came to me straight away that he was someone dirty and uncouth. I really felt disgusted at the first sight. I definitely felt we were different and put him in a category that was labeled dirty and stupid in my thoughts. It wasn’t that bad to be honest. But when I saw him I really felt zero cleanliness around myself even though he was sitting opposite me. Yes, you could say I was really racist about such things and really raise the bar this time round. I ignored his presence and soon sprang back into my observation of that loving family.

By this time, the second boy standing got really restless and ran towards the granny where he quickly got on her lap on that side of the window pane. The two brothers looked at each other in much playfulness through the two window panes. The granny, abruptly but aptly, pushed the brothers face into the screen to make his face look squashed and his nose look somewhat like a pig. The mother laughed from the other seat finding things really funny and it was not long before the boy on her side pressed his face on the pane to look extremely funny. Around me, people were either sleeping or just not paying attention to the love between this family. I laughed at them out of pure envy and adoration of the naivety and cuteness of the kids. As I laughed, I turned back only for my eyes and the Indians eyes to meet, at a time of which both of us were laughing, at the same thing. It felt like thunder struck in my heart. A rude awakening I must say.

Regardless of how different we looked, what color we were or how our lives were like, we contained the right to know what happiness was, to smile to feel and to express. In that train, on a day where my thoughts were prejudicially inclined against Indians, a family changed that. What right had I to condemn who he was when it was something he could not control? Every one of us is different in our own way. If I may quote again,” Regardless of race language or religion”, we all have rights to happiness and knowing what that is. The smile is ours and so is our right. In that very cabin, the happiness of a family brought two different people in unison, for me at least to realize that we were equal. All of us are.

Night.

2006-04-14T01:43:00.000+08:00

Intellect

There are many things in life that people have names for. They are, easy and hard. Besides these two words being bound by circumstances, many unanimously agree that on other occasions they are bound by intellect. But do tell me, what is intellect? What is smart? intelligent? clever? are they all but just the same? Are grades suggestive of who you are and how life comes as easy as it is or as tough as it gets?

It is such a wide term people use that ur so stupid or you cant make it or ur such a dimwit or even worst, wat a dumbfuck. But when it comes to that, what is intelligence? Intelligence is the art of the human brain. For yes, it is ur brain that tells you wat to do how things are and what to say, etc. It is in fact by choice. Results do not determine intelligence nor does a consequence or ending. It is in fact, an action that determines that . And with that to make things right ,we have other things, bonuses like creativityt humor and wit.

I was just wondering, is there such a totality to this word intelligence? Must there be a dictionary to such a word for i question its direct definition.

English novelist Aldous Huxley, wrote, "The course of every intellectual, if he pursues his journey long and unflinchingly enough, ends in the obvious, from which the non-intellectuals have never stirred."

It is not what happens that defines where you go . It is what you do , you are not stupid because you failed the test. You are stupid because you chose not to study. Noone deserves to be on the floor witha milo tin on the floor with him. Noone deserves to be in a less compromising state than another. You start from somewhere and you will definitely end up somewhere. You do not stay on a side and hope for God to say Hi. Yet what right have we to use stupid for someone that scores Cs and Ds? Are we somewhat similar? Are we actually the same with the exception of doing things differently? It is not fair to say that one who studies and still fails is stupid. Could it be that his ways of studying are less smart than others or more stupid? Yet what do these two words mean? I'll leave you to that.

[Rhapsody Astray] leaves you with finally, a post to ponder about.

Ciao.

2006-04-08T06:00:00.000+08:00

The Girl and I

Yes, lets get personal. Lets go deeper, not as if the whole world wants to know, but i want the whole world to know. This is my our story.

Its ironic how two people meet. Under no circumstances of choice did i come to my present institution. I had scored a low for my exams and had by far had no choice to go anywhere i liked. Yet there was this girl who scored decently well and chose to come to this given institution. The fate of one boy and another girl got entangled just like that. And through a game of rackets and balls, we met on the tennis courts.

I guess you could say we never said much to each other till late. It really got exciting when i saw her in the canteen as if a stranger for she looked very much different. Unfortunately, my fate was sealed when she was already seeing someone. Ya know then, i had my fair share of problems, my fair share of dates but somehow it all was just so enticing . Ya know how they say, God works in mysterious ways? Well, after our random training sessions, i realised i didnt bring an extra set of clothes to change into and i was wet, dirty and uncomfortable. I was pissed, angry and upset. Not for long though. I instantaneuosly decided to take a cab with my compatriot so to speak then(wenhao) and then i saw her, so i figured why not give her a lift? And so i did. Hey, a mans gotta do what a mans gotta do. Its just really coincidental and yet amazing how my mood somehow changed even in a state of being wet and clad in dirty clothes.

So we talked, she and i, and we were like peas and carrots. Na, im just kidding. I was pretty Cold towards her for the first time. I dont remember why, i do remember not daring to look her in the eye which is exactly why i never faced her. Since that ride, i really just took my chances to talk to her, to know her better. It was not long before i found out she wasn seeing anyone. I knew she was about to see someone soon. That guy had to be me. So things evolved and well, soon we became like peas and carrots. Our first conversation on the phone was again another work of God's "mysterious ways". She had lost our coachs demo racket and it racked up a conversation that led to much much more. i couldnt help but feel a tinge of happiness that she lost that racket although it was a lil ugly towards the end cause she had to pay a bomb for it.

You know how its like when you're driving and well sometimes you just happen to be at the crossroads? Well ya, i had my crossroads. To cut it short, tribulations and tribulations, tough times after tough times, an original triangle love problem quickly became solved. It was a rollercoaster but it really became very easy towards the end. Like, i wondered, " what the hell took me so long?" well anyway, we got together on december the 13th. We were in a library and i bought her this necklace that i had wanted to give to her as a present and of course pop that question. I put it in her favourite mnms pack. So she ate the mnms one after another and my heart raced faster and faster because somehow the necklace wasn showing itself and she din seem to notice it. theonly thing that kept her going was the mnms. My mind raced to a million places. " did i drop it?" did i drop it?" "why hasn she picked it?"

Anyway, she got it in the end and she agreed to the lamest proposals. Its ironic but i really thank such an entanglement. Providence i guess. That two strangers with opposite academic results ended up in the same poly , the same course, the same sport and soon as a couple. for the record, We're still happy as hell. Sorry no sappy sad endings to this one. So this is it but i aint done. This is the pivotal section. People, this is my girl.

Born on November the 5th , she really is sometimes the sweetest thing you can find. On days we're together, she digs my ears and does my nose . Sometimes she cuts my nails and helps me shave too. She has these eyes like those of a cat which i find really sensual. She has this smell as well that really draws me to her . But most importantly, she has strengths that compliment my flaws and a voice that touches.

She loves singing and she loves dancing which is unfortuante because elderly at the old folks home wouldn watch me dance even if it was for free and voluntary. But arh well, thats ok i mean it doesn take two to clap in this case eh? Shes amazingly untidy at times, and so unbelievably forgetful but she really does this thing that makes you forgive almost anything she does. Sometimes, its an expression, other times its really just that voice.

Every Sunday, she wakes up to come watch me play soccer with my amzingly nice friends in a pathetic yet darn fun self created soccer court. She loves ice cream, and she really loves chocolate. Her expression is priceless when you give her nuts. She really hates nuts. Cotton candy is another favourite , not forgetting tapioca chips.

We both love advertising and we;d go the whole day loving ads and hating U zap ads and much much more. But nonetheless, we'd remember every 13th. We really have so much alike but yet so much different. But thats e way it is. I mean, a variety always brings room for exploration and eventual greater closeness. Its a norm . In fact, its a prerequisite. SO hail, for this is my personal entry in inversed_sights which is never a norm but nonetheless, this is

My Girl and I

Night

2006-04-06T01:18:00.000+08:00

Parallel lines

Parallel lines also known as, the equilateral distance between two lines, are lines that never meet. They do not try to move inward or outward and yet no matter how far or long the lines go or move, they never ever meet. Henri Frederic Amiel once wrote, “Sacrifice, which is the passion of great souls, has never been the law of societies.”

As in math, parallel lines never meet. They correspond to each other and as much as they may be alike they do not "see" each other. They fulfill their cause and no matter what happens to these lines , as long as they stick to what they do, their lines never meet.

Good Evening people, This is Johnny Rizaldo Gomez and this is his story.

A major in engineering, the aspiring engineer was common to all, yearning to experience the ways of the world, wanting the norms of fame and the entice of money and status. As much as he pursued what many seem disillusioned by , his belief never wavered , that he would eventually return home to his friends, his family and his roots.

Johnny had left his native country philippines for Singapore with a degree in engineering upon graduation in a local university. His drive to earn a better life, a better future and an unsafe ticket to being stuck hence began.

Parallel lines are bound by one another, never changing. Which is why two lines will never meet even though ironically they may seem alike and corresponding. But with the exception of squares, trapeziums and parallelograms and even more, lines meet to form something else. The other two need not be parallel but when they join with parallel lines they form a picture. I like to call these lines " helping hands" or an even more suitable term " communication".

Johnny Rizaldo Gomez never expected much in life although he wanted a great deal . To his dismay, the first year in an alien country seemed a tough one but with the availability of networks and phones, his family wasn too far away from him. However he grew more and more successful and it wasn't difficult to climb that corporate ladder given his ability and intellect. Globalization made the world smaller and easier to reach for Johnny. Osama Bin laden is not anywhere obvious to be found yet he reaches the screens of our computers and televisions so easily.

It was the same for Gomez then. He could reach home with the [helping hand of communication] without needing to be there at all.

These lines that we call helping hands or communication joins the parallel lines to form a picture or something out of it. But although they indeed join them, do they meet? they cross paths their paths are led together by this line, but does that point of the parallel line meet the other? Yet both these lines do not compromise where they go or where they'll be. They do what they need to without changing direction or course. Just as trains, the trains may change but the tracks and the tunnels are always the same.

Earning money got easier and his status could only soar by the blink of an eye. He earned what
he got. He ate delicacies and drove the finest of cars. Yes, Gomez was one success story but he did not feel whole or complete as the days went by. And he found that missing link in a filipino restaurant called kabayan in lucky plaza. He savoured the taste of his hometown favourite adobo. At that instant he recollected moments of his time as a boy and the reminiscent of his times as a man when he was studying there spending the most carefree and joyous times of his life. It was evident that he was relieved that he had contact with his family and home but it was a bold that communication wasn't exactly the best remedy to the pain he felt, missing his family.

So as it was Johnny Rizaldo Gomez found himself unable to make ends meet, not on a monetary issue but of home and wealth. The harder he worked, the further he went and th emore he stuck to what he had to do, he found that nothing changed. He was as far away from his family as before. And yet ironically there was nothing he could do. He could not thwart his movement towards his longing for home and yet couldn compromise his action to give up and return home.

Parallel lines move a never ending distance but their movement never thwarts. They never bend neither do they move towards each other. The distance between the two are always the same no matter how far they move or try. Both lines do not give in or change their minds about how they move.

It is common in life that we stick to who we are it is also essential to realize we cannot compromise who we are. If we do, people love us for then, something else. Yet is ironic how two people that may seem alike are as such parrallel lines, moving in towards the same direction but yet never meeting on certain aspects. Is that a tragedy? A source of negativity? I guess it means nothing. It just means they never meet. It does not have to suggest more.

Night.

2006-03-08T02:17:00.000+08:00

Offside

The offside position is determined if a player is closer to the opponent's goal line than the ball, and the second to last player, which usually refers to if the player is in front of every opposing player except the goalkeeper. If that happens any player that scores at that point in time is ruled as offside, any player interfering with that play even though he does not touch the ball is also ruled offside and hence, the goal does not stand.

Thomas Monsoon once wrote, "In the private sanctuary of one's own conscience lies that spirit, that determination to cast off the old person and to measure up to the stature of true potential."

We are determined by incident and incident illustrates character. It is often that we think that it is all over only to find hope in something new and discontinue what we were doing but some of us fail to find strength in the original intentions of their activity. We all fall into offside positions, ruled as such all the time even though it may not be the case. We fret, we complain we get angry but that doesn change things, does it?

In football, generally speaking in the eyes of any player to be ruled offside when a goal is scored simply means whatever you do jus doesnt count. Some say its robbery because people make mistakes. Some people say its justification of life because it isn always fair. Some argue that it hurts because you give something to someone only to take it away. That was my persepctive a few hours ago. Now, i say this, i say that its a drive to score again and again and again until it counts. Efforts are not drained, they are accumulated until they satisfy the brim. it is not measured by how hard we try but how many times we try. ALl of us have been ruled offside far too many times but some just arent game anough to continue.

Because we choose to become a stranger to fate, we become a prisoner to sorrow. Offsides are ruled by people but goals that count can only be ruled by you.

Ciao

2006-03-08T02:01:00.000+08:00

Man

Abraham Lincoln wrote, " I am not bound to win, but I am bound to be true. I am not bound to succeed but I am bound to live the best life that I have. I must stand with anybody that stands right and part from him when he goes wrong."

We choose our decisions and we make the best out of what we have. We choose whats right and we shun away from whats wrong. Some people live with doubt in their hearts, some regret not tolerating, while some, just are too afraid to accept. Selfishness is not a right or a curse, it is in fact a gift because with selfishness comes a friend and foe, compromise. We cannot afford to stick with what we believe all the way. Compromise bends us to ways that we never dare walk because we are unfamiliar. But in doing so, that risk is justified.

Selfishness stands in the way of many we all have it just a different extent of its limit. If you ask me, i have learnt that in life you do things you dont like and sometimes you do things that you must do. But it is also at times you make sacrifice to make things better on the outside although it'll hurt for a while on the inside. Half of the Millions and billions of people are out there fearing to do what they ought to , the other half make do and do what they need to.

It is not about what you like to do, it is about what you need to do. You make your life. Again as Abraham Lincoln wrote, it is not the years in our life but the life in our years. One day, we all come home. everyone will. We have regrets, but some of us still have time to erase them. Some of us, just refuse to face them. But i say give me regret, if i can keep the good memories.

Its hard to make decisions that are against you. Its hard compromising to a state that you are unfamiliar with for the thingsd you love. Yet, its an even tougher road having to do both. But i learn that when you learn to give things up, you reap a greater return. They say the road is always bitter, but the destination is always sweet.

Ciao.

2006-03-07T01:20:00.000+08:00

Now the oscar awards were a blast. The guys were great, the ladies were stunning and the awards,apt. But yet, something sparked me about all the works of the directors. They spoke for society. They spoke for appeasement. I'll hit Munich and Transamerica tonight. Well simply because, i have watched these two films.

Munich is a fight between the Palestinians and the Israelis. The Black September , the Munich Massacre and the Israeli response of the Mossad team sent to kill those that were involved in the operation then. So the movie starts off with the palestinians barging into West Germany and killing these athletes from the israeli athletic team in hope of getting their fellow palestinains freed. Anyway, it was a poor attempt and a moajority died. It then moves on to show the formation of the mossad team and their killing operations one by one, their escapes, some deaths of their team and their reason for such passion with the help of flashbacks of the munich massacre when the israelis were killed.

What we didn't know is that in the event of this, in real life then , was that the Mossad team had killed an innocent civilian, a waiter they had mistaken for one of those responsible for the munich massacre then. In anyway, it seemed as if the whole movie leaned towards the jews as victims as they were always known to the world. But noone is born a bad egg the palestinians behave the way they are for a reason. In themovie , there are segments of maturity in the palestinians and righteousness yet also naivety but yet admirable patriotism to the two sides. The movie ends with both countries displaying their affectionfor their nation and how they will stop at nothing to get what they deserve, a land they can call their own with no prejudice or judgement. It shows that the world is real and that if you fuck people, then ditto. Its dog eat dog.

Steven Spielberg has done this film not in an aim to show what was Munich. Steven Spielberg is handing in a prayer for peace but yet we all know that there is no prayer for peace, no appeasement for war nor is there end to greed. This film has depicte dmany aspects of our lives because we choose to see things from our side. Is that human nature or is that nurture? Movies are a guideline its application thats essential. Munich is a film that asks for peace with no judgment. Peace comes with compromise and a determination to believe that there is good to the bad that we all think it is. Full marks for intentions, none for realism.

Transamerica, a film of the transexuals. This gives a full describe of the haggards of our society, their perception and their ability to judge thats somehow unfair but yet so much of a sentence. this film talks of a man that undergoes operations to become a woman. As he is incomplete(transexual), he gets a call from the prison that his son is in jail , This son is illegitimate and came about in his years when he had a fling while he was a complete man. the movie goes on with the strength of a person that is determined to become a woman but yet afraid to admit to many. It shows how the son is in acceptance of her only for her to realsie that her son is actually an aspirer to be a gay pornstar.

These two troles in our society have been built by a firewall crossed upon by the people that believe in equality and created by those that see what they like and insult what they dont like. It requests acceptance and understanding. It explains that no life is hard if we have strength.

Noones life is too hard to an extent that we have to end it. The end is always sweet. Full marks for intention, full marks for realism on part of their lives and how their classified buy immature judgement in our society.

Rhapsody astray signs off with three new posts.
Ciao

2006-02-19T02:28:00.000+08:00

A Peek into the Crossroads of Life and Death

The hallways are lonely, and the lights dim. The food bland, and the air dry. Sunken faces, and tears of loneliness. Fates unknown, and yet fates for some,known, already. These are the common features of a place that is often slightly lighted up by the kind nurses the sleek infrastructure and the conscientious doctors.

I stepped into one a few days back. Ward 64, patient 30, bed of my maternal grandmother, Yeo Char. Born in 1924, shes a fine example of a living person thats both strong and yet weak. She had been required to an MRI scan which required a straight posture they had arched her straight and thathurt her really bad. She was turned in that machine over and over again. For half an hour. She came out crying non stop, with wails, " Wa jin gan kor, wa jin gan kor, ho wa si la wa jin gan kor"

The four walls of a hospital are serenaded by the word solitude. Each bed has its troubles, worries, and urge to let go and meet their maker. Some, just cant bear to leave. Irregardless, the scary thing of being in that ward is too see ur neighbor gone the next morning one by one. The tests, the needles and the pain withno clue as to whether you have that chance of witnessing dawn and dusk. The hospital is one of the scariest places ive been since that day.i had never seen my grandma cry before. I guess it told a story of everybody's experience. Regardless of race language or religion, they were all here for the same reasons, to come and get out or to come and go.

IN the ward, you have 6 simple beds with curtains and a rollin table for lunch. A public sink and the accompaniment of a stiff bed and two pillows. Visiting hours are from 3 to 8 and you wear light green clothes given to you. In ward 64, there were malays indian and chinese and all of them with already faces that told you how complicated and tiring they were and some that had the freckles and the look of pain tell the story for you. But wat hurt me most was not the story behind their arrival, but the presence of noone by their beds. It is general solitude that keeps one at bay. Orson Welles said, “We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone." But without that, solitude is a glorying misery that we bask in with no choice.

As i walked down the hallways i saw different lives of different people with their fates both known and unknown but what was scary wasnt that. What i figured was scary was when it came to night. It is at night, when you are alone on your bed with nooone to talk or see, that your thoughts run wild. It is not easy to deal with loneliness much less the prospect of youre ending future. The pain of thinking through all this relates to every layering experience that my mother and uncle had when they had cancer. They went through the exact pain, the exact rooms and the exact food. One things for sure,m they had no idea wha was coming up for them, they just knew there were inthe hospital and they were near paradise and near realism.

Life does not present itself on the food platter. Life comes as it is and we play along. Life, is the art of drawing without an eraser as John W. Gardner once said. We follow the rules sometimes, but sometimes we are meant to break them so we get even better. Life is a beginning but whose to say death is a revelation. It is the final awakening. For the moment we make our first breath, it is the beginning of death. The hospital is an entrance to that byway. The Crossroads of Life and Death.

Night

2006-02-15T16:17:00.000+08:00

AVIATION

Departure is a friend to independence a friend to bravery yet a foe to bond. As such a bird that will leave its nest in due time, departure also depicts that. Departure tells the story of when the plane takes off. It tells us so much of something similar to what we know as, aviation.

Emotions run wild in the airports, both happy and sad but whatever the reason, it is departure that sits in the cockpit of our emotions. Only then do we realise, family.Like seasons of the world, family comes in different weathers, moods and atmospheres at different times.But regardless of which, the world continues to evolve and family is still family, only closer.

When the young are independent, they go. And when the older must leave, they shall leave but which hurts more? Migration of departure is a dark yet bright aviation. Into a foreign country, we are fearful and for those whose close ones "aviate", we are similarly fearful. But that degree of fear is not tantamount in either of the situations. Departure allows room for hate, yet also for love. Ironically, they are bound together to make us understand. Not understand why they leave but why we have to move on. Aviation of departure teaches us that. Without a doubt.

The mood sets in, always when she is about to check in, or when it dawns on you that you have no clue as to when you'll see his smile again or whether he'll remember you the next time you meet. But ultimately, the mood executes on its own, when the final wave is shown. They say waves tell a story, that a side to side wave resembles a no and that departure means this is not goodbye. Some people say bye tweking and bending their fingers up and down, that resembles a closure and then an opening and that departure means i'll close on you but we'll see each other soon but for now i will start a new phase in life. its degree of truth is highly questionable but nevertheless, when the plane aviates, that is a wave that needs no explanation. But till then, how do you decide when its for the best?

Family departures are the worst to handle. An aviation is analogous to that.

A plane going somewhere aviates at take off, transits here and stops there, but the plane has an airline and an eventual return to the airport of when it started.

Migration of departure leaves for another country, but its identity remains. No matter where it goes, it has a sense of belonging somewhere.

And eventually, they both will come home.

Now that is the aviation, the test of flight that depicts departure.

Ciao

2006-02-06T01:42:00.000+08:00

U turn? I dont think so

There are many things in life. Many many things that we miss and that we come across. Sometimes, we fail to realise what just passed and only notice what is so obsolete and useless. Although to each his own, it is so important to do something about it so you wont feel so shocked about how life gets to you. I guess the most cruel thing about life, is, well, is that you cant go back.

No matter what people tell you or how better things get, you can never go back. Its not tantamount to making things better or moving on to have a better life, its bare, bold fact that you cant go back to how things were and keep what you want that has already left. Its just like seeing your own phone drop from your hands. You know its gonna drop, you know its gonna hurt but you cant do a damn thing about it , neither can you revert the situation. Why do you think expressions like, Oh fuck or oh shit come about? its just because you know that something you did cant get you what you want.

I guess im facing a time where i wished i could take the hands of time and make them my own at my pace. The idea of having family around you is an optimum situation in all cases. Heck, even if ur a single man or woman who has taken the vow of celibacy, your family is something thats bound to acknowledge you and bound to be there.

Anyway, going back is something that we all want. I cant imagine how happy things would be if we were keepers of our own time. Time is like a prerequisite in life, just like being born, going to school, working, marriage, and then dying. From the day we open our eyes to this world till the day we close them , these are all prerequisites that we do not own or control, but things that we are bound by, that, without, would mean zero survival.

If you move in a car at a desired speed miss your point and decide to take a u turn, then thats going back.

If you move in a car at a desired speed, miss your point and take another way out to reach your destination, thats moving on to make things better, leaving the past behind. And like i said, that is not tantamount to going back in life. Because you cant.

So whats my point? its not a bad thing to be able to move on and have a better life, but its undeniable that if sometimes you can go back, thatwould be a whole lot better. Sometimes even if you go back, thething you want to keep will eventually go. But with that said, when you know whats leaving and get to go back, wouldn that allow more time? No u turns in life, only alternatives that teach you to cherish day after day which actually hurts us deep down , at times of our life.

2006-01-25T09:44:00.000+08:00

A series of misfortunate events

I should have caught that movie. What a way to start my day. Yes once again , I’m going on an ego blast to talk about my splendid morning which was followed by a series of misfortunate events indeed. I would use fucked up to describe it but it wasn’t like fucking bad. But it was quite bad. Lets start with last night shall we? I played the worst tennis of my life last night, strained myself was friggin hungry only to come home and eat a piece of bread which made me pissed but never mind that was brightened up with a conversation with my girlfriend, ok that wasn’t too bad. The morning I woke up, I realized I wasn’t meeting my girlfriend to school today and for some apparent reason I got super laidback and super nonchalant. My eyes were stinging me and I couldn’t get my lenses in. My hair was a mess and I was one hungry man with a tired tired body.

I left the house at 730 only to not be able to squeeze into the bus despite being one of the first people there. Yeap, all the smart fuckers cut in from the sides. GENIUS I say. I walked with my heavy bag and tired legs to the station and of course managed to board the train(not that unlucky), For some reason though, the train would remain stationary, stagnant for as long as two minutes and that happened like what, 4, 5 times? My girlfriend did call to talk to me and that made my day a lot better but the tunnel really spoilt things. But still, I was hungry, angry and tired. Not to mention, I had a test to do of which I prepared for and studied for with ease. I reached the station at 820 and went to draw my cash then the bloody machine only disposed 50 bucks so heck, I took it. I walked up to the entrance and tried to hail a cab of which 4 people were in front of me. I waited and waited and finally my turn.

There’s this girl that approached me though, one that I thought wasn’t so nice but was quite nice after all. But before that, there was this group of people from my school who saw I was hailing a cab, hailed before I did at which the cab stopped in between us. They looked at me and smiled as if, they were all ministers and presidents. But yet, for some stupid reason, I let them take the cab and not even a thank you was mentioned. Ok, dumb for being kind, cause that’s being cruel to yourself. Anyway, after which the girl , whose name I didn’t ask for, and I took e cab after like a long wait of 15 minutes. I reached school at 0852, of which I was told that I couldn’t take the test. So yeah , that’s my morning so far. Stay tuned yeah? I sense a further bad day coming ahead. Hopefully, God doesn’t take the day off today and actually help me out. I’m still hungry and tired and angry. So if you may, be nice on the tag boards. Tell me bout ur worst mornings perhaps? Cause mine was a blast. Ciao

2006-01-25T09:30:00.000+08:00

How is it we are able to define what it is best for our solitary lives? When is it appropriate that we allow people to control what we believe and what we think? And in that case, if we do allow people to decide, then who are we trying to be? With that being said, who are we actually?

We spend our lives, 24/7 going to school. Hitting the courts or going to work or even just slogging in bed but what is it exactly we are intent on doing? There seems to be no real root to explaining why we do certain things or why certain things happen, we just do it, either cause we like it or we have no choice. That shit process that we go through everyday which sometimes drives people fucking berserk has a familiar name and its called life. And often, there’s a phrase that comes with it. Shit happens. And yes , indeed, often in times of our life everyday, we come across times where our lives, well, really, like shit. What is it you aim to achieve at the end of every day and why?

The alternative to living the way everyone lives life is to die. You know what they say, the fittest survive and isn’t that so damn true. Its no wonder that every once in a while you stop to think what it is ur doing and why ur doing it, most of the time as we recollect, we actually realize that the things we do at times just don’t make sense but do we have a choice? Or rather, can we do anything about it? It’s so apt to call life as it is. Life is Jive. It is insincere, and deep with no real depth in its meaning. Why are you going to school? What do you wanna do? Why do you hit the courts? Why that sport? Whose making your decisions in life do you even know? Its just a thought. Right, tell me all your thoughts on God, tell me all your thoughts on life for comments are just always that rife. Maybe once in a while, it doesn’t feel so shitty when you figure that most things you do are not decided by you and you cant even answer why. Everyone’s the same. Don’t fret

2005-12-23T22:32:00.000+08:00

The Trains

The trains have many cabins of which each can store like what, 20, 25 people maybe? I dunno. We walk into trains at different times of the day but one things for sure we know where we wanna go and as much as it it is a destination, we experience a journey.

Sometimes the trains are jam packed and we feel so tired and stressed that we either step out of the train and wait for the next, or hang in there and feel alot more space as time goes by, stop after stop. Sometimes, we step in to trains where there a a handful of people and maybe a few catch our eye. MAybe sometimes, you see familiar faces. Sometimes a pretty face that catches your eye even although we most of the time just look afar and let an opportunity slip. Sometimes of course, we step into a train where there are totally no people and that mkes one a lil lonely and impeded.

Someitmes, we take the trains with our friends and we get off the same sop at times, some stop before or after you, some dont even need to take the train. Yet it is the same, as you are in the trains, countless people, significant or insignificant, walk in and out of the cabins because their destination is reached.The trains move fast although it seems slow, the stops are sometimes close to another while another destination might seem farther and yet there is nothing you can do to control it. No way to control the crowd or to make the train go faster. Sometimes the train takes one minute to come, sometimes it takes 7 minutes.You get people who totally oay no attention to you, these of which either are reading a book or thinking about whats for dinner what programme there is on tv later, or how they're gonna vent their frustrations when they get home. As much as you like to be noticed, sometimes, noone cares. Not even your friends.

They might be sleeping on their way home with you. Sometimes, even we sleep and fail to notice whats happening around us or who is besides us.

When you miss a stop, its ok. Ur able to get off the train get on the one in the opposite direction and head back to where you were without paying more. Sometimes, the train stops longer at certain stops either due to more people or a fault in the train or maybe the driver is chatting up with one of the staff outside on the platforms. Whatever it is, whether it is damn crowded and unbearable or totally free and alone with a loved one, the train will move on and that is inevitable. No matter what, the train will move on . it will not stay stuck at that moment nor will it suspend for a day . It will move on .

Lets not forget the gruelling part of boarding the train, it waits for noone. If we take our own sweet time while making way to the train, it might shut on us and hence causing us to miss the train. it could be the last train, but whatever it is, once we dont take hold of the open door, it shuts on us. Yeah, i guess that sucks pretty much when about to board the train if you ask me. ANd yet the trains and the stops they stop at are always the same, they do not take different routes or skip any stops. The announcer is always the lady announcing stop after stop. Nothing changes and the train always looks the same with us boarding it the same way, goin gthe same direction taking the same route. But one things for sure, the trains are never going to be extinct. these trains awill always be there to board and to alight, ONe thing for sure, the trains keep coming and coming be it at 1 minute or 7 minute intervals.

The train is as such life.

In life we know where we wanna go although we dont know how long it'll take. Sometimes in life we feel so stressed that we just wanna give up or take things alot slower although it wastes time. Sometimes in life we persevere and hang in there which pays off as we reach our destination faster and easier with no wastage of time. Sometimes in life, we see opportunities (pretty face) and although we see it as a good one, we often let it slip past. Sometimes, in life we feel so empty and alone just because we are too afraid to try.

Also in life sometimes, we have people coming in and out of our lives beit friends or celebrities or strangers or even idols. They all come and go. Life is also unpredictable and something we must accept something we must adapt like the heavy crowd coming into trains or longer journey times frm one stop to another. Like life, certaing things jus cannot be controlled.

Also in life, we do our best and hope to be noticed, although sometimes we get the attention, sometimes people just can be bother but life still moves on as such the train as much as they are sleeping or doing whatever , the train still moves. Also in life, we also fail to notice ( sleep in trains) the importance of others even if that someone is right besides you. Sometimes in life, even your friends and family get to preoccupied with their own things they fail to notice you.

As such missing a stop and going back , life also offers that. And that is called a second chance , nowhere is too far for we can always go back if we want to and if we're alert enoughin life. Again in life, whether times are bad or good, it will pass, and time will not stop for you as such life. Like trains moving on , life will not stay stuck in the past or in that moment, it will move on.

Like whats mentioned in the fourth paragraph, like trains, life waits for noone . As the saying goes, time and tide wait for no man. if we take our own sweet time and take life for granted that chances will always be there(door will always be open waitng for us), we will soon have regrets and no chances. Like trains, life will shut on us. And finally, like life, it follows a system. 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. It does not follow differently and certain things like time and exams and age follow a system. Like trains that always take the same route.

However, life is what you make it. Although like life, trains on the outside take the same route and seem to be doing the same thing , it is all superficial. Like life, as much as we follow a timetable life is indeed what you make it. You could be reading a book in the train on monday , and studying on wednesday or chatting with a friend on saturday.Even so, we are dressed differently and waering something different seeing different people on the train. LIfe is how you think its like. Like what ever you do on the train, you can choose to idle and do the same thing like sleepin, or make it different byu reading a book or chatting.

Whatever it is, life is something that we can relate to. And although it seems like groundhog where everyday is the same. It really isnt. Life is what we make it to be and we are the ones that we are dependent on. we set our goals and our destinations and throughout that journey, we make something. We make life. Our life as we see it, as we feel it and what we make it to be.

Night people.

2005-12-23T22:29:00.000+08:00

Have yourself a merry merry christmas

And as the streets lighted up with all colours and faces of joy and celebration, Christmas was drawing near. Young Lucas Wilkie was jus yet another boy covered in snow all the time with insufficient cloth and warmth. Not to mention, a home that only had himself. Yes, Young Lucas was an orphan with often no family around him. In his clattered coat and a towel as a makeshift scarf, night was falling soon with the sun being called home to rest. And as he paced through the countless christmas trees at every block of the street inside every cosy home, the feelings inside him enveloped a sign of sadness and envy. It was brittle yet unbreakable the feeling he had inside, such that was immune.

Lucas WIlkie had one lucky touch though, this year he had a touch of love. Yes thats right, Lucas had fallen in love with a girl. Jessie Turner wasn the tallest girl in class but had beautiful curled hair which made her so mysterious everytime it covered the side of her face. She was your girl next door with an angelic voice as Young Lucas would recall during her choir performances at the carols.

As popular as he was though , Lucas always felt empty. I guess Jessie filled that void. It was christmas once again and everytime they strolled down to that snowy path on route to home, it was joyous yet sad as it always seemed short though they took the longest way home and did so much as trudge home . IT was on this day , 23rd December that Lucas was to be called in to his first ever Christmas dinner, with Jessie's family. The young man agreed gallantly as he gave her one of those i'll see you tomorrow pecks before letting out that smile.Life seemed good and well on the way as he made his way back home that only had himself and a roommate he never spoke to. Yeah, you could say all was fine and dandy.

One thing he never figured out was why his roommate whom he cohabited for almost 5 months with never uttered a single word although he occasionally took the mail for him. It was an unsual relationship they had although life was still normal and everything else was still ubiquitous. Their time together never seemed like it had to work, whatever took place jus happened without notice or system like time itself, it was incessant. His roommate was forever an enigma, one he thought he'd never be able to figure out.

December 25th and boy was it a great affair. It wasno more groundhog days where all seemed oh so stagnant. It was instead waking up to tunes of let it snow by frank sinatra, John Lennons, Harry Connick jnrs, and of course , that Santa Claus is coming to town. It was alien to Lucas but he was getting used to it. Lucas's mother had died when giving birth to him and his dad died not long later in an accident. To Lucas, noting worst could happen but never did he expect the best to befall him. It was luck he was new to. He had gottentogether with Jessie for about a week or so and that was good enough. But i guess the best news for him was a christmas dinner, the feel of a family.

He put on his best looking shirt accompanied by long khakis pants that complimented his shirt really well with of course, his old shabby chuck taylors that still made him look good. Lucas felt welcomed into a world he was unfamiliar with . He was being welcomed to a world that was merry and joyful. That was love. Love is something too, thjat is ubiquitous. In the airports, when friends lovers or reltaives embrace, or in coffee houses when people talk their days through, or a day at the library spending time with books that they loved so very much. Life was suddenly colorful for Lucas and he couldn understand why. However, he knew that "man up there" works in mysterious ways. He knew that whatever happened, God would make a way.
On his way down , he met his roommate all dressed up and he hence greeted, " Looking great i see, Merry Christmas mate!"

To his much anticipated feel, it was to no avail. The roommate, he knew as Spence Trevors, gave a lifeless smile only to move on although he looked his best with a polo and slacks that matched his sunken look almost all the time. Anyways, Lucas shrugged off whatever was on his mind and sped on pacing far ahead of a slowly trudging Spence.

He was greeted with the warmest of smiles, And the best of dinners. Lucas felt warm and as he sat down on the couch, playing with the house dog, with the family during gifts exchange, The atmosphere was cosy and comfy. The snow pouring down accompanied by jazzy christmas music that now enveloped no envy, but warmth, and love. But yet as Lucas peered out into the window and outside of a street opposite the home, he saw himself. He saw a boy standing in the cold alone stepping out of a random 7-11 smoking cigs. But that was past him and with that he turned back to The girl that made him realize everything else in life was important as of now. He embraced Jessie and continued with a family that seemd like his.

The boy smoking cigs turned back at that very moment when Lucas turned away. That boy was Spence Trevors. Alone he was but seemed unaffected although filled with envy.

Its so funny how not every single being is happy on christmas day. Life is a cycle, irregardless of who you are. I know that i had little to be joyous about in the past but now i know i have everything in my hands with a warm family and lots of love to give and have. Like lucas, he had found warmth. But yet as i am typing this in a manner that i feel very much lucky and elated, there is Spence , out there somewhere in a state of melancholy and a tinge of rancor. As we embrace what we have in life, we need to realise that out there someone isn clothed, someone is eating and that someone is alone. In the meantime, we remeber a moment of grace and remember that we are comfortable with our loved ones. We cherish what we have been given and we ask of nothing more in return. So as the tunes play and my christmas tree lights at 530 am in the morning, i come to you here hoping that all of you have yourself a merry merry christmas.

Enjoy.

2005-12-11T02:13:00.000+08:00

I can never thank the ppl in my life. But i have Xin Zhan, Wenhao, Zihao, Genesis, Phoebe, Ice, Erica and Shuqin to thank.

In that ,i have my brothers Yi En Darren Kuangwei and Benjamin to thank for they have never shown disbelief and i really honour what we have.

But most of all, i have a girl that i can soon call my own because she has thought me to treasure whats in front of my eye. I have a girl that makes me feel new again. I have Jamie to thank for being existant.

Thank you, to all of you and to Hans, im especially sorry but i cannot do anything about the past. What i have is now and that is something i can change

2005-12-09T00:53:00.000+08:00

The passage of time has sorta left me to realise how damn tough it is to complete the book . So its been shelved. Well, not exactly shelved, i will work on it but meanwhile ive decided to fill all of you in with more entries so here goes the first one in a long time.Nothing fantastic but just a thought.

Theatre

The movie consists of actors , plots, settings, dialogue and what have you, the movie consists of popcorn, ideas and reviews but the cast are not immersely involved as one group of people. These group of people get set into the mood not realising they are part of the movie, they feel aligned with the actors and the plot, they feel alone and outside of a world they enjoy. These people are us and that one place makes it all happen for us, thats the theatre. The theatre is like an escapade to realism, such that we do not feel our world coming in to place with the reel world. And as you bask into the seats of the cinema, you can't help but be involved that you tend to forget whats happening on the outside. The cinema accompanied by not only sound and picture but also darkness and atmosphere, makes one feel alone in a world and that isnt a bad thing. People forget who you are and in that nobody cares. The idea of a cinema is not a genius one in its effects but a genius in its psychological feel. Its something that goes so very unnoticed like an unsung hero.Last night, as i sunk into my seat feeling ever so comfortable, i couldn help but feel bemused when the lights came on. The cinema jus didn't appear something ubiquitious anymore.

The cinematics of movies wasn't just based on the intent to convey but to experience. Many a time we wonder why we cannot be the lead or why we cant live in world like theirs where we can be cool , or even generous and the best part is people can see everything and you will never go unrecognized.I think its time that we fathom the fact that we actually are part of the movie. Even then, as you bask in your seats and view whatever genre of movie, the part that we fail to recognize is the importance of the one beside you. And even in saying that it is not the movie you are watching but you being part of it at the very least of your realizations that really astound us.

2005-09-30T15:49:00.000+08:00

Age

So we all turn old and then we die. The object of age signifies the diminishing value we have in life as well as the amount of time left to achieve whats deemed as perfect and do as much as we can to get that ticket to heaven when we meet the Big guy.

So what does age remind us of what does it mean? Does age give you an excuse to forget certain things, to run slower or even have poorer memory or a bad temper. Does age in a way earn you a right to do certain things youthful commoners cant do? We give each other a timeline and we predict certain forthcomings without knowing why. We choose to believe that at a ceratin age, we become too old for something or too unfit.We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing. Just because we choose to believe that at 50 we'll be sick and at 70 we will die doesn mean that we become unfit. The mind becomes unfit. Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you dont mind, it doesn matter. Dont u think?

The object of age does not suggest who is more mature. In my humble opinion, its but just a number to distract what you think you can do. Ok at 15 you get ur ic, at 18 you go the army and at 21 you drive a car and at 30 you probably get married. Its all a notice thing, like warnings when you dun hand in your homework or a grumbling stomach when you miss out on lunch.

Anyone who stops learning is old, whether at twenty or eighty. Anyone who keeps learning stays young. The greatest thing in life is to keep your mind young and by doing that, we deserve a little credit for staying young.

I do not think that it suggests how mature or wise you get. Your life experience suggests that. Like mentioned before, it is not the length of life, but its depth. HOw much you gain in the shortest amount of time is also of greta essence. In a man that has had his whole life planned out and fed with a silver spoon , we might see lesser wisdom and maturity as compared to a teenager who has had to live in an environment where poverty is rife. Correct me if im wrong, but the age is no enigma. It is what you make it to be.

Age is getting to know all the ways the world turns, so that if you cannot turn the world the way you want, you can at least, get out of the way so you won't get run over. Yes that is what age is about, to keep learning. Theminute we choose to stop learning is the time we get older and older. everyday we learn it is a process all the way till you die.

Enjoy.

I will embark on a 10 episode story on this blog site. Well, either ten or more. Its not set. I have not tried something as such before so do not expect too much. I have had two stories in mind and have yet to choose one. The first is prob an epic love story between two ppl in Paris who never realise each others existence until their fate entangles for them to meet in the worst way. The second is a story between two best friends who are expert thieves. Things get in the way and they begin to lose trust. I'd need some votes if it isn too much of a hassle. Thank you.

2005-09-25T22:58:00.000+08:00

Enigma

In this life, we do all we can to impress and we do all we can to be remembered by a certain action. It is often said that for 100 good things we do and one bad thing we commit, we are remembered for that one bad thing. The mentality of man was such that one could not have everything. Sometimes no matter how hard you wish to try, you are just unable to please everyone.

And in this life, we try our best to be the best people while some of us choose to be the people that will do or become anyting as long as it is to their advantage. All our life, we try to create a legacy or even a memory to be remembered, to make or please people. Yet in this life, with birth, we forget there eventually comes death. A famous lawyer in his time, Albert Pike once said, "What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal."

We may choose to be selfish in life to create a legacy for the next generation or we can be an example and do things for others. People remember death as not how one died but as how one lived.

In this life, we try too hard to hold on to things that are meant to slip past. We all have different rationales for our existence and we live throughout these very principles. whether or not that should be corrected by influence or not remains ambiguous. But life as it is isnt meant to be for yourself but for something else and that itself is an enigma. I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth.

Simplistically, we do not need to know the reason for life or how it is played. We treasure the people we have and we try our best to make everyone happy. Its not the right to life but a way of life.

Anyone can make an influence, it is not the length of life, but the depth of life.

Enjoy.

2005-09-23T01:41:00.000+08:00

Spoilt brats?

It occurs to me how much all of us want a certain something or someone at times. We commit to all costs concerned just fir plain materialism or satisfaction.

I grew up never knowing what it was like having a father and a mother under one roof. And for a much ascertain period of time, i spent my childhood hating my father insisting that i din wan a surname as such. IN a way, it was childish but childish beared with alot of hate.I grew up as a boy that knew could get the latest car or action figure if i just open my mouth. I grew up as a teen knowing i could get the coolest shoes or the most expensive of soccer boots. The only way my mother could show she cared and loved me was to spend on me. Not that it was her fault. WE all have obstacles, ups and downs, its just that we need to learn to get up time after time sometimes on our own. Thats how the people up there made it.

I learnt the value of spending with absolutely no consideration for the value of saving. As i paced down the streets of hong kong, i stared down at my father who wore shoes that belonged to my half brother, i turned to my friend and saw he got new shoes, i thought back home of the pairs and pairs of shoes i had back home. That was the story, that my father who catered the cost of my travel fare and expenditure didn even bear to get shoes for himself.

Of course, its argueable that you can pay them back and that you ought to. But thats not it isnt it? Luckily for me, i have worked and i know how sucky it is to earn little and spend so much. People, im your average teen that also enjoys looking good. What we buy comes out of our parents unless you work of course. But think for a while, do they do their shopping, do you realy need what you want.

My mother taught me to spend on whats worth without hesitation in my early part of childhood, with her gone now, my father teaches me to save on whats worth without hesitation. I may not have had the best parents in the world, but it does make a whole lotta difference. I was never ashamed of my parents no matte rwhat they did, i learnt.

JF kennedy once said:
" Its not what the country can do for you , but what you can do for the country"

Similarly, its not how much your parents can afford to accommodate your materialism but how much you can offer them in filial piety. I went around searching for answers and whats not, but i was left to no avail. You cant find whats not there. So dont bother looking. What you have is the present, and what you have at present, is now.

Money is sure as hell easy to spend, but goddamn tough to save.

Night

2005-09-11T22:19:00.000+08:00

People, its been a trying period for myself and i think i've finally convinced myself that there must be a closure to it all. I keep my mother close to my heart and my defeat as nothing but a passing reminder to only make me stronger. Before i" embark" on a new entry, i'd like to thank every one who still continues to read and tag. Its been more of my pleasure than yours.

Till death do us part

What strong words that we hold for the people that we love. I as a kid never understood the basis of love and yet questioned myself if i knew what i was saying when i said those three words to my parents every night before i slept. I had yet to know what those words meant. A little too late but its after shes gone that i realise what this overwhelming feelin is about. But better than never i guess.

They both(parents) became part of me. My dad , Alex Choy was an outstanding graduate in business from London. A man with a big heart but also a big ego. He loved his family although he wasn very good at articulating that. Anyhow, my dad ventured into business that he was never familiar with. I think at the age of 6 or 7, i was living a life of luxury from some export business he was doing based on oranges. Yes, the ones we eat. We made a fortune and i remember significantly how very rich we were. My father was a man who knew lots and lots of things through libraries of books and an admirable inquisitivity for anything in the world. For a man that knew nothing about fruits and earn big bucks, he immediately became my man to look up to. His only flaw, was a bad bad temper. Nooone is perfect but i remember the times where we;d get scolded for almost nothing and yet almost everything if you know what i mean. A loving father he was, but an angry man with a huge load of pressure would also be apt. I think it was 4 or 5 years later that my father went bankrupt after specualting in shares. Well thats the past. My dad is now a boss of a candy business where he acts as sole distributor in malaysia and has also expanded his business in both singapore and hong kong. As far as i remember, i never had lunch with my father and mother together. You see, they were divorced shortly after i came to disrupt this place that we call earth. Arh, My mother.

Shirley Thong, a woman loved by many. They said my mom was a genius, creative, funny and yet such an attractive woman in so many many ways. Well, it took me right to the end to find out how she was like. After she passed on, i heard stories from her friends of how beautiful a person she was. You see, my mother's furthest education was Pre-u. She left to work in a hotel as a mintime manager or something like that. I remember her telling me she was once a journalist in her time for a chinese newspaper. BUt that was before her years in the hotel line. She excelled in her work and in no time she became a general manager for what they call troublesuites, that is what they call hotel doctors. She'd be transferred to anyhotel under CDL that had problems in revenue. Anyhow, my mother also totally disregarded the fact that there were so many religions. She told me that there was no need to fight because the world is unison. She felt universally religious so to speak, as if there was one fair God. She knew about Christ, Allah, Buddhism and also the mostly talked about Sathya Sai BaBa. She, too loved her family but only managed to articulate that through spending on us because of her hectic work schedule. My mother was diagnosed with cancer some years back but never gave up, she refused to back down and doctors told me she hung on longer than any doctor would have expected by a few years. A few days before she left, i asked, " are u going Home" she smiled and pointed at my heart. Home is where ur heart makes it and somehow my mother is in my heart for always.

Why am i broadcasting my parents here some of you may wonder. Well because they have become a part of me and ithink i must have a closure to all that i have been feeling through out these 3 days spent aloneher in KL. People, trust me when i say family is the only real thing you have around you. I don no tdoubt the power of friendships but i believe in the definite power of family. As far as i remember, i never reallyhad a complete one for five minutes but that din matter cause they were around me somehow.

Love is something so different. It exists so differently when you have it and when you dont. Sure it can be about your spouse, your dog or your favourite movie. But when ur in it, u dont seem to cherish it as much when you do have it. This is my closure. I apologise for my emotional stints over the past few days. It has taken me a while to get over the fact shes gone. That night, i though it was her and hell for five secs, maybe it was!

I never forgot that smile or my fathers words. I dont forget them and i dun think thats ever possible. Till death do us part...

Enjoy.

2005-09-07T23:14:00.000+08:00

And then we embraced and i felt her once again. It felt the same but it wasn. I saw my aunt as she was and pictured her as my mother. I missed her so very much. Because i began to wonder what she'd say to me whenever i felt horrible. She seemed to be my only source of light. Yesterday, when it struck me that it was over with me losing 9 2 , i felt a thumping drive in my heart. I didn totally deserve to lose because i might have played better. But the fact remained i couldn play for whatever reason and that i lost. The score might not have suggested how intense the game was but anyhow i felt horrrible. The feeling of losing was different from any other type of loss.

As i hugged my aunt, i felt her hair like i'd feel my mother's, and i hugged her rooted to the ground, it really occured to me how much i missed her. I turned to my aunt when i got home because somehow i felt so alone by my loss, ridiculous as it seemed, i din lose to my opponent, i lost to myself. She saw me and teared with me, describing that she saw pain in my forlorn eyes. We cried together that night as i came to realise how much i had missed my mother all to the fact of me losing a game that seemed so ever important.

This song seems to describe how i feel, its tempo and its emotion, seems to bring out whatever pain im trying to convey.

When i stood there on court, i could not describe the feeling. I lost myself, i was blank for the next few hours and then i was lookinf for a source of consolation and i could only think of my mother who had gone. I was lost in the game but also in myself. I could not seem to remember that my mother was not present anymore. I didn know what i was thinking buti felt so very dejected. I felt lousy for ignoring my friends who had come to watch me but i couldn help how i felt.

My aunt said i showed tears of not a boy but of a man because she seemed to see my mother in me. Losing the game somehow combined so many feelings together into one and it was hard to contain. I appreciate the concern around me . i will be away out of town for the next few days, will be in kl to get things off my mind hopefully. Will be back with mroe entries soon. Take care all

2005-09-05T20:22:00.000+08:00

Pulling out?

So here i stand before you writing one nervous entry about how im feeling. About a year and a half back, i held the racket for the first time, stepped on the courts and started playing like an amateur. Almost 3 to 4 times a week, 3 rackets, hundreds of balls, countless perspiration and effort, my open is here. My open is tomorrow. Tennis was the one thing that did not only test myself to overcome tactic with technique but to also overcome myself and not be impatient. Now, i actually face the prospect of going into courts tomorrow at 11am and exiting as either a loser or winner. Either way, i hope to take something from it.

Days back, i reopend one blister only to burst one and let another one form. I just came back from downstairs as itried to serve. I couldn last ten minutes. A huge blow that dealt, i do not know how else to vent my frustration but here on this blog. I have yet to make a decision to pull out. But i know at 11am to 12pm tomorrow morning, it will be the most important juncture of my tennis experience thus far. My "compatriot" Wenhao, eased through the first round with a clear thrashing over his opponent, i had gone through the first round throuhg a walk over and face an unknown wild card in my next game tomorrow.

I have never wanted to talk about myself on my blog but here i am expressing the fears i have in my heart and the tension thats all around me. Im not afraid of losing the game, but im afraid of losing myself, im afraid of giving up and letting the ball fly past me. point by point. I am no professional, nor am i an ace player, but i think it takes alot of effort to go running round courts just to earn that one point. Its not a battle of whose stronger , but a game of will and brain. And for the first time in my life, im actually afraid of going into competition.

I know my strokes will not be a 100% tomorrow but i do know my legs will run as long as i can carry them. I try to stifle my fear but the expression gives way. If its said that praying really helps, then if ur really up there, i wish i had a new pair of hands.

Yes people, this whole entry is of tomorrow and of me. My hands wont allow me to play and its a great blow that i must contemplate pulling out of the open. Ever felt something such a pity? That you knew something good might coming but things just dont go as planned somehow? In my shoes, what would your decision be. I have no answer. I cant last ten minutes how am i to last nine sets. Anyhow, wish me luck.

Enjoy.

2005-09-03T03:33:00.000+08:00

My diary: At age 70

The sun shone brightly as i lay on my bed feeling all tired as if my time was up.But hell, i couldn't care less. The pain hit me so bad as i tried to reach out for my cup of water that seemed miles away. The back was killing me as usual despite my heroics in my army days. Then , even ten girls couldn hold me down if you know what i mean. I think it was 6am with the sky showing its most beautiful colours.

I couldn help but wonder when i could go out again and have the best lunches at the best hotels with the best friends, or dancing around with my wife playing to our golden oldies together. But then i realised, at age 70, my wife was dead and myf riends, long gone before me. I sat on my rocking chair sipping on my lukewarm water in my ever comfortable pyjamas wondering, what more can life have installed for me?

I looked back to my past and saw the mistakes i made, and wonder how life could have been different, but at age 70, how else does it matter anymore? My son's career as some sales promoter made me tense about his future. He comes visit me once in a while, but at age 70, Why would i care? No, istarted worrying who was going to get me out of the toilet bowl if i was stuck, or worst how was i going to play my tracks on the player if my back and legs were killing me?But then again, at age 70, how much longer did i have?

Retirement from my job seemed decades ago, my savings in abundance but with no use at all.
I was worried for my only son , who could not seem to get his career going. I couldn wait to see my wife again and meet the big man. Yet at age 70, what more could i do?

I sat there at 70 thinking about how i felt when i was 20 about how i would feel when i was 70. I really laughed off it. I paced slowly to my doorstep as i saw no newspaper at my doorstep. I saw kids running back home and i saw working people heading home as well. I ahd lost track of time to an extent whereby i could not seem to see night from day. I was sleepy and i dozed back into sleep.

I never realised that i actually never go tto wake up after that.

What goes through the minds of one that gets old? Or how will things settle in the long run? Do we really lose track of time or do we simply dont give a flying fuck about anything in life at all anymore?

Enjoy.

2005-09-03T00:26:00.000+08:00

Reunions and Family

Recently, i had a reunion with my secondary school classmates. It was a nice gathering except for the fact that there were a few missing people. I was elated to see the familiar faces, our teachers and of course the familiar voices. All was well.

As the group got together, we made so much noise ,did the craziest and maybe the most lame things, but even so, we were a group. It was a reunion, no matter who did what we had placed no judgement nor disgust, because of the fact we were very good friends and we knew each other as we were. Weeks before, i was involved in a church performance with my friend, At Glad Tidings. Indeed if all of you follow my entries dating back from last year, i have my doubts about God. Im no atheist, i believe he is around but lets jus say im agnostic. Probably, God is no fan of mine or too busy to get to know me. ( but hey, no rush , i'll meet him someday)

As we sit there for maybe 2 hours or so watching all the performances, i saw reunion in them as well. I saw, family. In spite of differences, of people that felt inferior or afriad to try, the people pushed them on, they laughed together and they rejoiced together. Indeed, i was no believer of christ just as yet, but what i saw was family. While my friends and i stared at each other when different performances started because we were either too nervous or busy trying to critique the groups be it good ir bad, others sat there, leaving no judgement and clapping their effort at the end of its realm.

I saw that they were family, as such my friends at the reunion. We passed no judgement of anyone. They treated everyone as the same with no objection. Yet there was no difference between what we believed in or who we were. Whether we were christians or buddhist, free tinkers or muslims, we were friends. Through family, we were suddenly unified because we saw nothing wrong, or rather, we ignored the imperfections and looked at what was there.

Friends are such a co existing unification that happens regardless of anything in the world.I admit i did have my reservations on that but after my meeting with some old friends and the way of support at Glad tidings, i guess i have been reviewed on this perspective.

2005-08-29T17:42:00.000+08:00

Come and take this imaginary picture with me people, " On a rainy day like this"

Kids playin with their caped coats and boots, Couples running together in a single umbrella, Students running away from its pelting force with their shirts out, making use of their canvas bags to shelter them. Such are the views you see on such a rainy day. The smell of rain is often enticing enough to go out in the rain as you take a view of beauty from the cafe sofa you are sunken in with your hot cappucino. I wish time could be replayed so i could keep you here with me everyday. The sound of rain pelting on your window as you gaze out on such a beatiful thursday evening.

Kids jumping on puddles of water with their ever innocent smiles that describe pure delight. As clear and distinct as rain you see the coloured umbrellas as they are laid by the sides of the cafe with its droplets simmering down on the plastic covers.

You pace out as the rain drizzles lightly on the wet ground. The refreshing feeling gets one to reminiscent the times as kid or the times where you shared an umbrella with a loved one. The weather gets colder as you put on your cardigan coat and move towards the train station. The mood sets in as you look out at the mellow sky, and the people in the train as they either doze off in complete exhaustion or stare into space , thinking of what seemed to be eternity. The umbrellas drip as my shiny leather shoes are filled with visible droplets of water. Still, the mood sets in as my eyes prepare to close.

On a rainy day like this, Its always the eyes that get sharp, the mood that sets in and the heart that remembers. On a rainy day like this, it gets you laid back like ur constantly on a couch. And on a rainy day like this, you just cant help but wish that she'd be by ur side. But most importantly, on a rainy day like this, Home is where the heart is.

2005-08-24T00:08:00.000+08:00

Paper models ; System defects

L1R4 of 18 and a r5 of i dun remember, maybe 24 ? 23? i really do not remember. A rallying student aiming for the most unrealistic spots of education. But by far, the most deserved. I sat down wondering whether it was me that din swallow enough notes into my mouth to remember facts, practice more on sciences and math or me just being plain lazy.MAybe it was all of the above, but then again it struck me. What a basketcase our society had driven us students to be, paper models. Yes, models made out of paper not talent nor drive or passion. Sure, out of the many elites that get the good grades, they do what they do best and contribute to the present rotten and future lowered society. Is it not true that certain ways of the world are not determined by merit , but by talent? It is true that from time to time, merit performance is the prior representation of academic ability, but how is that concerned to the very fact that all are the same? Does the world not speak in term of wittyness, flair or creativity?

Now that itself is a system defect.We talk about equality in man and building a creative hub for more manpower to enter the workforce with critical thikning skills, idea and flair. BUt we also talk about academic merit. The idea of creativity is not in the fields of sciences or math or even english for the matter. It is flair, and that is something that cannot be cultivated through textbooks or highlighted guidelines from photocopied notes.

We need to create a significance between merit and talent. We explain that merit is an all rounder. That one that is weak in science can become an A student out of pure effort, but can that beat a budding scientist to be if he gets an A1 for science but doesn do better elsewhere? We claim that its a life skill because most of us only want to do what we're good at and exams of merit ensure that we work hard for everything just so that we can do what we want in future.

Paper models we are at this instant, The society has created for themselves existing inferiorities so to speak present in some or if i may say most of us. That, already is, a system defect.

Enjoy.

2005-08-23T17:27:00.000+08:00

In the eyes of those innocent years.

I had got myself out and injured finally after ignoring advice from those who cared, of which i neglected cause i thought it would never happen. Finally, the unexpected came and put me out of contention for the next one week at least. That just added to my misery of pain that fell like rain and never ending problems that cannoned down on me like atomic bombs. But then as i gazed out of my courtyard and looked at the other side of the court or rather the other side of life where the pasture seemed greener, i saw my nephew along with several other kids. As i allowed him to enter my confidence, i saw what he saw.

In the eyes of a child, they saw no hate, they saw no obession, they saw no greed and they never saw materialism. Yet in their eyes were of such pure innocence and the tears rolling down only when they seemed to had lost their favourtie toy or when their parents left them to go for work or when play had to stop because of rain. Their point of sadness was brought about through genuine loss with no loss nor gain in their world. Their world of innocence.

I remember watching a kid playing alone with a leaf that kept spinning around him during those windy seasons back home in Hong Kong. He was alone and he was content. They had no worries, no bills to worry about, clothes to think of to choose or girls to be bogged down by. Their world was , it was in fact nothing. They were for themselves with everything in the world provided for em.

In the eyes of me.

It was 1am that following night when i thought through the mudafuckin trials in life. What was so upbeat about the times where poverty was rife or the time where money was in abundance There was no difference, what one had could never be enough. everything progresses with age, responsibilities, activities, friends, etc. Our view of of what we value comes to progress to its very own extremes at a certain age as well. What happened to playing soccer till late and not worrying about anything but to go home dirty and chided by parents? What ever happened to going home with good results not expecting a reward but a moment of acknowledgement form our parents? Those are wants that progressed into greed and eventually unnnecessity.

In the eyes of the infants , they had a world of their own , a world they created subconsciously along with other infants, other kids that allowed us adults to enter the realm of their world but never to be part of their world. We were past that already, everybody has it once.

In the eyes of us, we valued war over lives at stake when it came to possesion of rights. We spoke of freedom of speech but we were yet killed or banned from what we wanted to say. We valued our faces more than truth. We hid what was in the stash and took out what looked good in the trophy cabinet. In the eyes of us, we seemed to absorb the fact that our way to surviev was to pry open the harsh reality of intent of us humans.

And it was there, in the eyes of those innocent years, that i painted a picture that seemed ever so beautiful yet so very far.

2005-08-08T17:51:00.000+08:00

People describe me as an emotional person that i tend to let my emotions run wild all the time and that i get so emo and sad over the slightest things. People say im sensitive and people also say that im a weird one at times. But in spite of all that, my closest friend said i was dreaming. It is not wise to live on dreams because chances are, we get disappointed. You know that feeling when ur very tired and you just sit on the train and stare into blank space? Its like life suddenly paused and for that few minutes your existence did not matter or that you din need to do anything at all.How about the time when you want to do nothing but go home and not even think about anything and just stare into space once again?

That happens when i get very tired and very helpless. Thats when we feel a situation is beyond resolution or either because we feel too vexed to think the whole thing through or that we cant decide whther or not to let go of a certain something or someone. How does that come into play?

Remember my post of yearning? Remember my post about the cars flashing by or the pony tail i'd spot? Remember the post on "you were mine to keep" ? Those were emotions all on the line. All of us , in life put many things on the line without us even knowing the outcome. We fall in love with someone who does not like you and you hence move on, knowing theres no chemistry. We fall in love with someone who does like you and you end up together. and yet sometimes, you just do not know at all.

How do you tell the difference between what you like to see, what you want and whats meant for you, or rather suitable for you?

2005-08-06T17:07:00.000+08:00

In the world we live in, we play a game called life. And in this game, we , as different people fall prey to different things. However, as cruel as i may deem it to be, there is that one thing we all lose to. No matter who you are, how powerful , or how intelligent, you lose to that one thing that seems forever invincible. That is time.

Many things happen for a certain reason or certain cause that leads to finally a conclusion and all that is bound by time. I lost to time a lot of times, we;va faced off severaql times and unknownigly or knowingly, i have lost to "it" on all counts. How do you handle the loss of a loved one owing to death ? How do you handle falling in love with a special someone who is attached? how do you handle getting into something you never wanted to because you had too little time to decide? Well actually people, you dont handle it. You just laugh off it, get frustrated and move on. Trust me, i am no novice in this area. Time involves everything, it involves life, its chances or even a game of tennis or any other sport.

Yet time does not solve the realism of the world for you. It only makes things less great. Thats life, chances are, you dont know what you want and when the strain of time gets by u end up choosing what isn't meant to be, at all. As in tennis, You rush time, or you get so excited to bring forth the game, you try to beat time you rush things and you lose your first serve. As much as life is forgiving because you get a second chance, your second serve is normally a lousier one. Time has no mercy, theres no consolation prize for losing time by a lil . So come on people, between you and i, start counting, how many times have you lost to time?

Then as we even have time, we still lose, even though we're ahead. As i cleared the gantry from the train station last night i felt coins in my pocket, i headed straight to 7/11, thinknig i'd probably want to buy a drink or maybe a bag of chips. As stared down at the freezers and freezers of drinks and the racks of chips, i put the coins back nito my pocket and i left the seven eleven, then, realizing that i actually din want anything or something that i thought i wanted was actually never there. Such is life, we want the wrong things or what we thoought we wanted wasn't what we wanted or either it was never there to begin with. I know it sounds silly, but think about it people, what is it that you know you definitely want besides the necessities of life? And if so u know, how are you gonna go about getting it?

time itself is a powerful source, sometimes i feel even more than that of religion, because so much things happen because we lost to time. That exlpains the "if only(s)", " Why did i" , " i wish i was" , " i regret", etc. This tricky stance of life, is it something we are bound to bow down to? i confess that im tired with everything around me and the time i must get by inorder for it to finally happen or for me to move on. but inthe mean time, im stuck in the moment and i cant get out, i cant step in or out because we dont know what time will give us tomorrow so the only thing i can do is to look at today, at now and see what may happen. Still that is not an answer, it is a guess and chances are we're wrong because time plays the game so much quickly and better than us. That explains the unpredictable shit part of life.

Personally, i haven won time before. In fact, im losing to it now, and it seems like im going to lose at the end. But stil, our stubborn minds or our silly hearts push us to keep trying , not to gain respect, or to see disappointment, but to accept the fact that we're always going to lose .

The clock has been ticking for me the last 17 yrs and u realise 17 is not young. time is but just a number, its what follows through that hurts. i wanna know everything. dont you?

Enjoy

2005-07-27T09:24:00.000+08:00

Family

So many things we have, so many things we want and cannot have. But yet, ironically, there are things that we can and already have, but we do not want. The blatant fact of such a matter does not reflect on our wants or needs, but our heart and the memories they hold. The object of family is not the fact that I know you love me and vice versa. Instead, it ought to be an exact image of what you feel for the family as such the family for you without words being said. Sometimes, the most beautiful things are said without explanation or words. Enjoy.

Jacob:
"When I was young, I got angry with my mother for not buying me toys, when I got older I detested the fact that she did not get me the latest phone, I got angry that she did not let me go out with my friends and made me stay at home with her or go to dinners with her. I sulked and I sulked but I never looked at the big picture. So one day , she left and i forgot what it was like to come home and get chided, looked at my latest phone and couldn find anyone to screw me for the money i spent. Suddenly, dinner was like a one person affair, sometimes two, if i was lucky maybe three."

He looked back to the dinner table and saw nothing on it. He saw images, and he replayed memories of the one person that seemed to be the only one that seemed so very concentrated on his presence. He gazed out and realised what was left. His sister, his brother, his family.HE saw what was important and saw the sadness of it. The pain somehow was stealed by someone whom he believed was always there and would always be there. Family. It seemd to be shared even though he felt like he was alone.

The object of family is not to realise what is important when its gone, but to know its importance as soon as you have it. When was the last tme you had dinner with your family? went out wiht your mom or dad? inversely, when was th elast timeyou ppl quarrelled? the last time you scolded yourparents the ugliest things or worst, fought with them?

When was the last time you went up the bus on the way home, and thought of nothing but your family and not the computer or some show? Why is that we hold out to our friends and not family?

If something was there, itd stay unless you moved it

2005-07-22T00:07:00.000+08:00

Ok, a lil late but as promised i bring to you the equality of man.

We came here into this world with different faces, different personalities but as most people describe, we came in all totally equal. Is that bullocks or words with an essence of truth in it? We came in here equal with rights, emotions and feelings. But at the same time, we were "gifted" with talent, attributes and weaknesses. Its amazing because were even gifted something that we all love to do, to think and create. These are what we called habits, ways we talk and the signs we use in our lives. But why is it we think in such a way, that man are equal? Is it not true that some were born to do great things? given extreme talent to perform what a normal being couldn do?

Is it the fragility of man , or even religion, that we state that man are equal. For what we have created here is not a mess, but a mirage. We have all been led into believing that we are the same and what ever people have we can have the same. But what is the other side of the story? A third of the population have been filled by people who are menatlly slow, disabled or even handicapped. We find their strengths and compliment them and compare them to a full man, but even so how is that being equal? Was creation meant to create difference among us? This creator, what was his point in making us so ambiguously different?

As mentioned in the previous entry , we all seek to be different, is that a thought embedded into us as well because we see ourselves equal to others? Since the time of Graham Wallas and his work Art of Thought, published in 1926, some have considered creativity a useful and effective craft. Also, the term of heuristics have also been introuced since the fourth century. All this simply shows that man from early times already created and felt different, they created creativity and thus became somewhat different because they were special. But is that the case? Or is it simply because they reacted faster than us? Or were they smarter than us? Are we really equal?

Sometimes, i question the creators of our creation. Is it not ironic that i stand here before all you fine people feeling the same and looking the same and yet asking of the significance of difference?

Sometimes i do wish differenc played a part in humans. Then , we would actually realise that we could only do so much. However, if you ask me, difference is the essence of it all and yet the spark that kills many. Are we different in our actions? I say no, because as we all have the same desire to be different and desire to live on and stay as the fittest. Different in our abilities? indefinitely. See you guys. Im hitting the sack

2005-07-18T01:43:00.000+08:00

And so here i am back again. Sorry for the temp dissapearance as i took a vacation of my blogspot for a while to figure a few things i had to sort out. As you can see, inversed_sights is not shutting down and i thank all the readers for pushing me on to make this u turn for what seemed to be a set decision. So the entries that i hope all of you have missed will keep coming as my "leave" is now over. Enjoy.

" Your effort in trying to be different has only made you alike to most people."

The idea of creativity has been overshadowed by difference. All of us here today have accepted the thought that anything that is different is creative. The idea of creativity is not to be different, but to think different. The idea of that is not to behave differently or to do things in an exagerrating manner to be recognized as different. It is, in fact, the way we think. So many of us try to be someone different , but how is that being creative when the whole world wants to be different? Creativity cannot be made and cannot be cultivated. Creativity is moulded in your thoughts, you maturity and your experiences on life to relate fact and fiction.

Isn't it ironic that we take the prettiest things and see them as a viewpoint of beauty and creativity? We look at the mona lisa and we say it is beautiful and we can rattle on and on, but what about the da vinci? what about the brushes? the paint?Didn the picture stem from these very single details. In creativity, we fail to notice of the most insignificant things and srutinize their importance. We start from the big picture and forget the rest. But the art and baeuty of creativity remains in the smallest specific detail. Yes people, its origin.

But back to the topic, why do we try to be different? Why do we wear orange with brown when we know they dun fit? Because we all have one common stigma and that is that as long as i am different, i am creative. Is it a mental mindset that we have or is it an undying ego that refuses to accept the equality of man or yet , better, the gift of talent to certain man?

We all have our own styles. You are your own style. The object of creativity is already there because nooone can beyou no matter how much they try. It is not the clothes you wear or the way you speak that define creativity, but it is your sole self that defines creativity. Next up, the entry on " fairness" or rather " the irony in the equality of man" . I'll see you guys tomorrow. Ciao

2005-07-03T23:51:00.000+08:00

The world, yes, our world is an ageing system. The holding barriers of the deats of many and the turn to unorthodox ways have also become a resolute to one cause. This cause is something we have been entirely dependent on . This cause is what we call money. Money has become a widespread medium in all aspects of our life. They buy you clothes, cars, marriages, body parts, sex, power and satisfaction. What is it that we deem so material that only money can be superior to match it? Why has man chosen to follow the rites of fortune to implement war and conflict between man? Sports has been ruined as players do not play when salaries do not meet their demands. The sake of play has been gone and the spirit, destroyed.

Earlier in the history of mankind, we took the route of bartering where ppl would trade cows for potatoes or water for carrots. Then came the use of gold coins and so on so forth. Thereafter came inflation and the introduction of the stock exchange. Does it all boil down to greed? If not, why money? Is there no other way to discuss formalities without the use of bank notes with the faces of our forefathers or cheques that displays the amount of currency?

The world has been constantly taken over by humanity or rather in humanity. People have died stealing , died tradng, died losing money and died while saving money . And all that for what cause? Survival. I used to believe that money could never buy you happiness and that even if it meant you were poor it wouldn matter. Mayb ein lucky aspects or lucky countries with nice natives, that would be the case. But one day, you'd realise money makes ppl smile, it makes ppl agree, it gives you what you want to see. What they said was right. You cant have the best of both worlds. Instead, you have to make do with what you have. If you are poor, try to be happy by playing with your friends. If you are rich , ur happy by spending the money on the joyful riches of life. no?

The humane reason to keep surviving is to constantly improve ourselves. Yet , does it appeal to all of you how things will be like 10 years from now? 15 years from now? How much will you have? how will you send your kids to university? Life, starts when ur one and ends only when ur generation ends. Because what you do follow suit to what your sons do and what they teach their sons eventualy. Money has destroyed but money has also enriched the comrades and the allies of the world itself.

But thats not why im writing all this. You see the morphing of barter to cash and cash to death or happiness. Is all that a mirage? Maybe so. But one things for sure. The older you get you have more and more holes to fill and that will not stop because of the existing cause of currency. Bottom line?

What you make of yourself is eventually what money makes of you

Ciao

2005-07-02T16:55:00.000+08:00

I'll let ya know

I played and i played and yet i couldn help getting things off my mind. I'd spot every pony tail that caught my sight, hoping it'd be you. I was now sure of my feelings. It wasn like, it wasn love, it was yearning. And when that yearning is fulfilled it will turn to like and so on. But that is all too early to say. Should i come forth or should i take a few miles back?I sat on the bus stop and as every car flashed past me with the flickering lights, i thought about you, and i thought about what i'd do. The cars would slowly move away and as their lights flickered, i remembered that iwas still thinking of you. Then slowly, the cars got fewer and then one car sped past me without a light through my eyes. As if this was allwrong, as if it was a picture drawn only for myself to see and not for others to comment on. She was paired, and i was stuck. Even though we were sometimes just beside each other, we were ironcially so far away. And i f i had the courage when yearn turned to like, i'd say that i like you too much to keep telling you to stay, as such a car that would speed past me like a fading memory meant to be seen as just a moment of beauty. I watched the cars go by as my heart sank further and further. Was this all a mirage or was it just trouble yet to brew? If you could tell me, i'd be appeased.
But one's thing for sure, when it comes, i'll let ya know.

2005-07-01T01:57:00.000+08:00

So here I am at Queensway just waiting to get my racket done. In the mean time, chilling at Mac with a few of my friends. Im very tired and feeling very lousy at the moment but anyways, as promised, inversed_sights.blogspot.com proudly presents to you an opposite continual of the earlier highlight of the month "The Imagined Her" and a genesis remake of this totally opposite situation of having to like someone and not be together. I'm sure most of us have experienced this and I hope you are able to relate. A revelation of the usual fairy tale endings added with a touch of experience and a whole bag of emotions. This is more realistic, as such life. So take a moment, and enjoy the shadow premiere of
If You Didn't Love Me

So there I was. And there she was right beside me, lying in my arms. It was beautiful and what a moment IT WOULD HAVE BEEN.Right. Anyway, it wasn long before i was awoke by the damn bus and snapped out of what I would deem as a fairy tale. I walked on alone, thinking of my first moments when I set eyes on her, not that it mattered though.
Day three hundred and seventy nine since it made my heart grew fonder. She was attached, to this stud. The second one since well, 379 days ago. I She was two years my senior and just thinking about her with another guy saw me crumpled up like a lil kid when he lost his favorite action figure.

She and I walked beside each other day after day. There was already so much inside me that I never got to say. But how does it matter? She is attached . She walked by me like an angel and also left like one. I was far from perfect, like a child that would need a guiding hand. Yet, I could not make known my feelings to her.

She called me the next day, to ask me out. She had just suggested a momentary break from her relationship because of some tiff . She knew I was always there but she never knew it was more than that. Never did I doubt my feelings for her. They were there, ready to be reciprocated, yet, ready to be broken.

There was something about her. It was such a natural high with her around. I could not concentrate on anything else but to concentrate on what I felt was the most beautiful thing inside out, her. And every time she looked my way, I just wish I had the guts to say that there was something about her that was so incredible because she allowed me to feel joy, to dance and yet drop a tear to feel hurt. I really wondered why I couldn't say what I would. I still have no answer.

So we met up and she told me everything. She cried it all out and all was fine. Until she asked, "If you have something to tell me, tell me now. "
I looked right into her eyes and I was blurred out. I knew exactly what I wanted to say. What better way than to tell her how much it mattered that she didn't love me and that we couldn’t come together?

" If every drop of water disappeared from the land and then turned to sand, that would be nothing compared to how I feel if you didn't love me. Even if I could have the world and all that money could buy, even if I was able to travel far and beyond the sky with golden wings, I still wouldn't be able to fly because without you, nothing else would matter if you didn't love me."

I saw her slowly disappearing from my sight as I realized I did not say what I intended to. Instead," I hope things work out fine for you."

She got back with her boyfriend a week later and we never spoke since. I heard she went off to a junior college and did very well anyway ...

Hi people, many a time we think we are not capable, we think we are not able. That stems from courage. But to ride through obstacles no matter how hard, and go through situations no matter how tough, that would be the basis of all morality. It is not true that love is everywhere. But i know that it is true that love is trapped and is waiting to be released out of our faint hearts that are afraid to express. Say what you want, and say what you need to that special someone. Instead of telling her how much you love her, try telling that someone how much it'd mean If You Didn't Love Me. Night folks.

2005-06-26T02:10:00.000+08:00

and to add on , im completely upset that its this way . I'll be fine the next day bu im said to reaslie the truth of life. If you do have frens that really share thick and thin, then all the best. But right now,i'd stick to my frens similar tot of no true friends ever appearing. my father once told me to pick myself up cause thats e only thing that would help. I realise his intentions and i also realise what i can and cannot do. and the answer to what all of us cannot do is simple. NOTHING. Challenge ur limits and do not give in to emotions. Aim high and never falter. Whats mine is mine. and i will take back what my mom lost and follwo in my father's footsteps. a great man he was and a greater one i will be. I have hi bye frens, i have frens and i have acquaintances. thats final . My cloest people are my challengers because they, like me have turned their minds to become selfish. Be careful to those you're kind with. Because at the end of the day, out of a hundred, only 1 deserves that kindness.

2005-06-26T01:22:00.000+08:00

A NEW PERSPECTIVE, A NEW BEGINNING

S0 all it took was a train ride and a glance at the stars after lying down at the playground slide under my place to think about something i thought i was so sure of. I have my own answer to friendship and to life itself. I used to despise one of my frens way of thinking, that there were no true friends or what we call "abangs" . Bu today i realise, he is right. Your friends are but just an imaginary reliance to the finish line - you only have yourself. Its true that if u do good things and you do be kind to people, you will be recognized but i dun think u might be rewarded in the same way. By the way, forgive my errs in language or spelling today as im having a bloood rush to the head and im getting very impulsive. Today should be the premiere post of " If you didn't love me". But htis is important. This is of no opinion. This is about me, something i realise and something i will not alter for a long long time. So lets embark on this waywayr journey and one sided opinion for the first time in my blog history. This is my perspective, my beginning.

The way i see it, friends are for company, a free side order of fun and laughter. You may find friends that you can cry on but believe me when i say they wont help you for long. If you do have a friend that can help you in every aspect, you must have been a saint in ur past life and stolen some peach thats why ur banished to earth but blessed with the blessing of friends. Today i got off the train with a pack of friends as i had to pass my friend money at somerset. NOw i did not expect all of them to alight and wait, but none had the decency to say bye or to even say sorry. I saw their faces and of some were my closest friends. I then realised on the train what a fool i was. Its not their fault but a conclsuion thats true abt us, man. We are all selfish, no matter what you say. Face it people, we love being recognized but we are unwilling to commit to an extent that we are overshadowed. We are all selfish and we have no pillars. i've come to realise one thing. We are all fakes, counterfeits except for the small majority that might have genuine frenships. I have ten dollars left for this week. I was a rich man's son once and now im reduced to having no wealth. Im an average guy . Im not poor but why i have been reduced to such a state is because i've been too nice and too blind to see who are the people around me. A friend owes me forty dollars and has yet to return any of my calls or messages. Im no asshole or pump bitch and im gettin my money back even if it means being despicable or downgrading myself. You argue that money isn everything. I beg to differ. If ihad money, my mother could have gone for surgery earlier, she wouldn have died. If i hadn loaned money i would be able to buy myself a new racket, if i hadn't loaned money, i'd eat gd food. My mothers fren ran away with 20,000 sing that my mom loaned while she was ill and never fucking came back. You see what money does to people? It makes people go soft. Like my mother, i'd do the same but not anymore. I realise you gotta be as hard as a rock. Ghosts arent even scary now but those you deem as your friends are the ones that are scary.

I had no money so i bet on soccer and i lost , not alot, but i still did lose. Why? in a bid to get back what should be mine. I believe that one can have no limit and so i believe i have no limit. I will stream to the top and while im at the top, i will not give in to emotions because as i was down and out with no money or even when i had my back turned on, i realsied many had already drawed their knives and stabbed me despite our past givings. I yearned to atone for the lies i told to people. But that shall stop, i think i have atoned enough. As i was almost finishing my contemplation, i spoke out to "God" but to no avail. Stupid as it sounds i asked for a hint to let me know that he/she was there that he/she does exist, but there was no reply. All i could hear was myself. Nad i guess that was the answer that i only have myself. I have one aim and one aim only, to be the best and to stay there. Friends used to be an imporatnt aspect of my life but not anymore. I now know money takes place as a barter for frenship and that the only thing that would seem precious would be family. So this is my beginning.

Life is a struggle between man . And as such in a war, you are your own man. I have myself and i thkn thats enuf. Im not saying i do not need friends. Im sure i do but none will i need to rely on because they will falll on you instead. We are burden to each other and that fact will never change. I come to realise that noone will pick you up besides family. So i'll stick to the side orders of my life and not make it my main course.

Ciao

2005-06-19T16:53:00.000+08:00

Ok people sorry i haven been updating the blog these days. Have been down with flu and barely scraping through now with the irritating sore throats and the "running" noses. As much as most of you might be wishing that i'd drop dead and never come to life again, sorry to disappoint you. Right, i do have a major fan base of people that probably want to kill me. But basing that and whats happend throughout, let's pin our mind on the thoughts of friendship. Is it as fragile as what seems? or is it a matter of the trust we breach or so much so that we find new friends that "overlap" our old ones?

You know they say the road to a friend's house is never long. It is to this extent that we explain that no boundaries are within these binds of friendship and that nothin gis too far or too difficult to solve. The way i see it, We all live a long life, and we meet countless kinds of people, the ones we like, the ones we enjoy playing sports with , and the ones we simply want to kill. And this process goes on , and on without stopping. What im trying to say is that some poeple take a few years to seek themselves and decades to find that one true friend. I dare say that i have one of the closest and nice frens anyone will ever have in this world, but definitely, definitely not the best. My father once told me, a man with a thuosand friends will find it tough to choose one to spare. What are your ideas of friendship? Is it just simply keeping in contact and being funny all the time and lending a shoulder when they need help? Maybe. But they way i see it, theres more. IT is like that of a relationship. You have to click, you have to commmunicate without even a single amount of sarcasm or bicker.The real test of friendship is: can you literally do nothing with the other person? Can you enjoy those moments of life that are utterly simple?

Contrary to general belief, i do not believe that friends are necessarily the people you like best, but they are merely the people who got there first. You need not share the same likes, but it is important to recall certain times and to remember that that certain person was there for you. So you ask me if friendship is fragile, i say yes. Because we time and time try to contact whoever was once important to us. Why? because we are either too busy or too occupied with our nerw friends that we have been acquainted with. You may argue with a standpoint that you still have them in your hearts and that you miss them but that does not change the fact that we have been too busy to keep in contact. The reason to this is not the fragileity of riendship as the focus point but he focus point being that we all have been defeated by time. Why do you think at the end of a productive forty years of life, most people are left with frens they knew a few years back? What imtrying to say is that as much as we value them in our hearts, we cannot help but admit all this will be drifted away as we meet new people and enter new phases of life. You ask if friendships are fragile i say yes. But if you ask if the bonding was fragile throughout those tryingn times, i would have to say no.

Now as you are sitting on your chair reading all this, whether you are cursing my views and wishing that i'd drop dead (again) or whther you really start thinking, What is your standpoint on friendship? My father is 60 this year and he has yet to found one best friend. My father happens to be as similar a guy as i who enjoys joking around and writing. He is one of the most intelligent man i have ever known and he has taught me what i know today. Yet, he has yet to find that one person that can do the one thing that i bet most of you cannot do. And that is to stab a friend in the front. That is an account of a true friendship, to be able to tell you your errs in total outright manner . It will be an even greater beauty of friendship for him/her to accept your imperfections and take you as who you are.

Well, hope i answered your question Phebs. And folks, regardless of what happens here on out, im sure all of you will admit that you have the best company in the world. But the best is yet to come my friends. Noone tells you to forget these "present friends" as you move on in life. INstead, keep them in your hearts. That way, noone gets by you. But heres advice, dont try to be everyone's best friend, its a hard task to keep because you need to please everyone and hey unless ur perfect, how is that possible? So if you resign to fate and agree to what i say and get really upset, dun be. Cause in the next paragraphs, are the type of people you'd count yourself lucky not to be angelic good friends with.

So everyone wants to be the popular one. Everyone wants to be the centre of attention. " I want everyone to love me and i want everyone to hate whoever i hate." These are the things that stir them on to be your "best friends" ever! They go out with you, they laugh with you and then when you turn your back they say, " what a showoff, or, what an ugly outfit, or worst, boy doesn't he/she look like me?" I bet everyone does that. Hey dont be feeling guilty, noones perfect. Who says its a crime to be envious anyway? But then again, no need to overdo things.

So here i am , to introduce you your first "best" friend, lets name her, Betsy. So she's everyone's friend looking as if they r so fine and flash all the time with her group of friends. Nevertheless, instead of looking in the mirror, they poke fun at others that do not look as good. And as these not so good looking ppl come to them, they turn their back immediately with that smirk and a new mask put on their face and they go," Hi! how are you! You are looking better! where did you get that bag? Oh my God i need to get one of those too!By the way, can i borrow your chemistry notes?" And when all is said and done with, they just throw you aside. Familiar with Betsy people?

Next up, meet Lennon. Lennon is an attention seeker and loves the outright company of girls. But at the same time, he yearns to be the cool guy and the centre of attention. So he decides that he should be abang with the coolest guy in school,Louis. And with that, he phases out everybody thats close to Louis and asks him out at every opportunity. He backstabs Louis's gd friends and eventually hangs out with him. He dresses like him, he talks like him and virtually becomes him. In due time. And so the big party comes and all the chix arrive,. And so suddenly, Lennon becomes James Bond, he forgets his friends and totally humiliates them in front of the girls. Familiar with Lennon people?

Well i could rattle on and on but basically Betsy and Lennon might seem like the two same people. ****ers. But hey, they just have different opinion on friendships. Betsy finds friendship too weak to depend on. She keeps a few gd frens by her side maybe one or two and thats that. Other than that, she pokes fun at people and makes use of them. Lennon on the other hand is someone overly possesive and believes that best friends are those that share the same likes and must be those that are the coolest but he is wrong obviously.

Friendships speak a deep language. And thats not saying. If you get me, friends are those that know you inside out and help when you are in need not pretend nothing has happened just to save your face. Friends do things without you saying what you want. Friends are there, when you need it. The bottom line is this,

Life is partly what we make it, and partly what is made by the friends whom we choose

2005-06-17T01:46:00.000+08:00

Ok i realise some of you like this entry so im gonna repost and edit it and name it as the highlight for this month of June. Thanks for reading people, and for the record, im single. Enjoy

edited: The Imagined Her

It was that saturday afternoon, our first month together and i was really looking forward to seeing her sparkly eyes and that radiant smile again. As nervous as i usually was, i just blanked out trying to look at her, much less hold her hand. She brought about such a calm atmosphere around me, so much so that all was jus taken away in that one second. We talked about many things without needing to stop, our topics never ending and our common likes, only getting more as we knew each other better. She was dressed in a denim skirt with a neat long sleeved white top that fitted her perfectly. The luscious long hair made everything make sense. Then , all was right in place.

We walked on and stopped by for lunch at one her favourite cafes. A light eater she was, but such a funny person at lunch, the way she ate and how she just uttered every word even as she were munching her food away. I turned back to my usual habits and took out the camera. What images were taken were those of such value, of such natural beauty and of memories that noone could steal. She was about a half a head shorter than me, and spoke so confidently of every topic she had in her heart. we would bicker once in a while and point out who was more better looking than each other just to pick at one another. I'd pick some ugly woman and say that she was better looking whereas she would pick some ugly old stud and say he looked better. We would laugh about it. It was only one month, but our every actions seem to synchronize as one. I felt i knew her all my life.

We finished off and catched an evening movie. Funny how we could sit totally quiet at the theatre as we even held hands when watching the movie. I had so much to say but yet that feeling came upon me. That feeling where you go totally blank at the sight of the most perfect things. I guess some things could be seen when left unsaid. We stepped out of the theatre and started bickering about the endings and how we felt about the movie. I smiled at every point she made, sensisble or not. Because she matched my inabilities. We were perfect and i thus wondered how long i had waited to piece this other half of my heart. I held her hand, tighter than ever and said nothing. At that point of time, i guess we were one. We knew what were on each other's minds.

How was it that i was able to capture such things in life? A 2 hr bus ride could seem like 15 mins . I sent her home that night and on the train, we talked as she begged for me to sing. I embarassed myself and as she fell asleep on my shoulders we both took the ride home that i wished lasted for eternity.

We walked to her place from the station and we played like 14 yr olds. Stupid as it seemed to others, at least we were in unison. Isnt that of most importance? that the other party agrees of your actions and you to hers? She complained she was tired and had such crampy legs. We egged on and on until i finally piggy backed her home for that short 10 mins. I only wished i could carry her for her to depend on me, such that her journey could be carried on by mine and her moving would equal my moving. We reached her doorstep and it all came to a sudden pause. All that instant beauty came to an abrupt stop and as she gave me a peck on the cheek, she chose not to turn away from my sight. She instead backed away with that smile of hers . We said our goodbyes and my heart played back the whole experience as i was eager to see her again.

Relationships are a timing challenge. The shortest amount of time could seem so short because we could never get enough. Many a time we seek a "her" and wished certain things could be in certain ways. I guess many would see me as a flirt and since this blog is ending, for the record i love having the company of girls but thats different from being with someone i love. I believe out there there is a soul mate that we both seek out for. First loves are never the real deal they say at our teenage years, yet it carries the most beautiful memories. I decided to myself that i would have a camera by my side at every one time i and "her" could be together, this way i could recollect. Besides, who would wanna forget? I wished we were similar and wished she would be someone that welcomed perspective as well.

Im not much of a know it all, but i know when that feeling of having a crush is.It'd make you feel like a lil boy all crushed up inside witht hose recurring butterflies. But nothing comes without a price. I guess thats why they say love must be patient. I guess thats why im still being calleda flirt. haha, alil song for that special someone when you knew it was her:

I was her she was me

We were one we were free

And if there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

We were young we were wrong

We were fine all along

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

When you get to where you wanna go

And you know the things you wanna know

You're smiling

When you said what you wanna say

And you know the way you wanna play

You'll be so high you'll be flying

Though the sea will be strong

I know we'll carry on

Cos if there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

When you get to where you wanna go

And you know the things you wanna know

You're smiling

When you said what you wanna say

And you know the way you wanna say it

You'll be so high you'll be flying

I was her she was me

We were one we were free

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

As you guys see, i extended this abit. I remembered what a wondrous experience all this would be had it been complete. SO here it is, completed with every bit of sweetness and yet sincerity in every word. When you're with that special someone, you wonder, how did i get so lucky?

I once thought when she was in my arms that even if i woke up and couldn't hear a sound and all that i could see was darkness all around, it'd be nothing compared to how i'd feel if she didnt love me. Love is such a magical thing. It makes you all small inside, the best part is you probably spend most of your time togther looking at each other cos' you couldn believe you got so lucky. right?

SO heres up : the next entry, "If you didn't love me" - Coming soon

Keep whats yours by your side and let what does not belong to you go. For the right star will come by and shine so that you could see and that melodies will play in your heart so that you could hear the most beautiful voice.

2005-06-17T00:02:00.000+08:00

So here i am , lost in the midst of seeking love and seeking tennis. As ironic as it seems, these two paths that seem totally uncanningly different are actually very similar. Ya know, i dont know about you guys, but i get lonely, very lonely at times. Not in terms of companionship, but support, emotionally. So i seekto find that someone, ya know with the luscious hair and the beautiful eyes etc etc. And yet at the same time, i know im not at my best and as i seek to find myself in tennis, it seems along weary road. As much the same for most of us, we seek to find ourselves. Its been an amazing three to four years since i last got attached. but i stil remember every feel, every touch and every experience, and well , it really seems like love is all around me, but unfortuantely the cupid has yet to strike me. Apparently, life seems to be planned for me to have big big disappointments.

I was earlier brought into the tennis school team but faced with the prospect of playing doubles because iw asn gd enough. Its just one of those days where you think the world is tied to you. Ya know, sometimes, you cant seem to erase the past from ur head? So when that past comes back for another chance, u hesitate.I cut the ropes ending another part of me that i was sure woudl never return.I know you guys are lost so i'll make it clearer.

Have any of you out there made a bidding to seek yourself? Who are you and what do you seek? what do you want in life and how far are you from beign that person you make out to be? i though i was happy with who i was but now, im not even sure who i was and what i want.

Weeks ago, a girl that i found most important in some stage of mylife reappeared. I thought i knew what was to come and i thought i knew what i felt. But you trauma, when you fall off abike once you dont wish to ride it again. She let things down once and i couldn erase that past from my mind so i cut the ropes. Y aknow when you realise what you want is nto there anymore or when you thought what you want wasn what u want, its a very lousy feeling?

i was born into a rich family, fed with a silver spoon until my father failedhis business, he got poor and mymotehr got sick only topass way in 2003. I was strong i thought, but hey even heroes crumble. I challenged, always the prospect of a single life vs an attached one. But yet for the first time in life, im about to defeat my own theory because there are times indeed that im lonely. Im sure its the same for lall of us.

Much has happened. what i thought could be mine disappeared, and what i aimed for seem to fade away like a lost ship steering into no mans land with no direction , no goal or aim. So what to do if you were me? Haha well i dont have a clue. Butheres a question for all of you to think and to think carefully about, and that being, " who are you? and what do u seek?"

Who are you. People, we try our best to make ourselves happy and sure of ourselves. But as you are sitting alone reading this right now, what is it you really want, is it there anymore? And what to do if its not? what then?

Night

2005-06-16T23:27:00.000+08:00

Hope you guys enjoy the music serenading this blogspot. It s amazing how music can affect one so much. But thank God for the internet. It serves as a medium to spread music. In case you were wondering, this is performed by Corrine May, entitled "Everything in Its Time" :

Sometimes I wonder what lies ahead

How long till my hunger is fed

They say it's hard to make it in this part of town

So many people on this merry-go-round

Some folks try astrology

Some turn to crystal balls

To find an answer, To get through it all

I just fall on my knees and I try to pray

In the silence I can hear Him say

The river runs and the river hides

Out to the ocean and under the sky

I promise you, the answer will come

Hold on to patience and watch for the sign

Everything in its time

I often feel like I'm two steps behind

Somebody must have moved that finish line

There are a thousand reasons

Why I should give up

But I'm stubborn in the things I believe

The river runs and the river hides

Out to the ocean and under the sky

I promise you, the answer will come

Hold on to patience and watch for the sign

'cause maybe there's another plan

One I still can't see

A little surprise, like your love in my life

Funny how time changes how we see

The river runs and the river hides

Out to the ocean and under the sky

I promise you, the answer will come

Hold on to patience and watch for the sign

Everything in its time

2005-06-15T23:04:00.000+08:00

Mine to keep

Time gets the better of me

It brings memories

The movies and the kisses

The tears and the laughter

I thought they'd never be gone

I'd wonder when you'd say no

Or why you'd say no

Cause I never imagined

I'd have this moment with you

They told me fate let us meet

I say you brought me to us

How could there be fate for as such a beauty

Then as u said hello stranger

I knew

You'd be mine to keep

When the night is all still

And the stars still shine

I know you'd still be around

Cause they shine for the beauty of your grace

And when you left

I cried

I could not fathom your leaving

And why i let you leave

Then i smiled

For i knew the answer

You were already mine to keep...

You know people, how is it possible, that you fall in love so easily and quickly and not realise that its the first time you are feeling that way? The actions we do and the things we say amaze us to an awesome extent. I remember how certain people were still by my side and i remembered our every experience. Ya know, it wouldn hurt writing how you feel, even if it was on a tissue paper or a cardboard that you'd throw away, at least you knew all was true at that very moment you started writing.

In a nutshell, i choose music. It recollects such a reminiscence of beauty in a few words and as such, even though i was apart from my loved one, be it the girl that i once loved so much or my mother, they are indeed mine to keep, deep in my heart. The above talks about particularly one of my experiences. When you embrace what you have, you cannot understand how you manged to catch it, but when i lost it, i could not take it. But it took me quite a while to understand that she is mine to keep. The movies and the kisses we shared we were always thus sweet, yet the tears and the laughter knocked back into my mind the most unforgettable things in life. I was so much of a coward and i thought of the many ways she could possibly say no and why i would screw up to make her say no.But when she agreed , that was something i never thought of. But all that i thought, all that i could think of was to recall how we met and thank not to fate, but to her. And i recalled when i first heard her speak, she was mine to keep because in my memories i had painted a very beautiful picture of things. And as i'd pace on to view the stars, they'd still be shining.

There's someone out there that you need to make your intentions known to isn there? Take it slow. Love is patient and will pick up its own speed on its own. Night people, cheers

2005-06-14T23:37:00.000+08:00

The Imagined Her

It was that saturday afternoon, our first month together and i was really looking forward to seeing her sparkly eyes and that radiant smile again. As nervous as i usually was, i just blanked out trying to look at her, much less hold her hand. She brought about such a calm atmosphere around me, so much so that all was jus taken away in that one second. We talked about many things without needing to stop, our topics never ending and our common likes, only getting more as we knew each other better. She was dressed in a denim skirt with a neat long sleeved white top that fitted her perfectly. The luscious long hair made everything make sense. Then , all was right in place.

We walked on and stopped by for lunch at one her favourite cafes. A light eater she was, but such a funny person at lunch, the way she ate and how she just uttered every word even as she were munching her food away. I turned back to my usual habits and took out the camera. What images were taken were those of such value, of such natural beauty and of memories that noone could steal. She was about a half a head shorter than me, and spoke so confidently of every topic she had in her heart. we would bicker once in a while and point out who was more better looking than each other just to pick at one another. I'd pick some ugly stud whereas she would pick some ugly old woman and laugh about it. It was only one month, but our every actions seem to synchronize as one. I felt i knew her all my life.

We finished off and catched an evening movie. Funny how we could sit totally quiet at the theatre as we even held hands when watching the movie. I had so much to say but yet that feeling came upon me. That feeling where you go totally blank at the sight of the most perfect things. I guess some things could be seen when left unsaid. We stepped out of the theatre and started bickering about the endings and how we felt about the movie.

How was it that i was able to capture such things in life? A 2 hr bus ride could seem like 15 mins . I sent her home that night and on the train, she fell asleep on my shoulders as we both took the ride home that i wished lasted for eternity.

Relationships are a timing challenge. The shortest amount of time could seem so short because we could never get enough. Many a time we seek a "her" and wished certain things could be in certain ways. I guess many would see me as a flirt and since this blog is ending, for the record i love having the company of girls but thats different from being with someone i love. I believe out there there is a soul mate that we both seek out for. First loves are never the real deal they say at our teenage years, yet it carries the most beautiful memories. I decided to myself that i would have a camera by my side at every one time i and "her" could be together, this way i could recollect. Besides, who would wanna forget? I wished we were similar and wished she would be someone that welcomed perspective as well.

Im not much of a know it all, but i know when that feeling of having a crush is.It'd make you feel like a lil boy all crushed up inside witht hose recurring butterflies. But nothing comes without a price. I guess thats why they say love must be patient. I guess thats why im still being calleda flirt. haha, alil song for that special someone when you knew it was her:

I was her she was me

We were one we were free

And if there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

We were young we were wrong

We were fine all along

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

When you get to where you wanna go

And you know the things you wanna know

You're smiling

When you said what you wanna say

And you know the way you wanna play

You'll be so high you'll be flying

Though the sea will be strong

I know we'll carry on

Cos if there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

When you get to where you wanna go

And you know the things you wanna know

You're smiling

When you said what you wanna say

And you know the way you wanna say it

You'll be so high you'll be flying

I was her she was me

We were one we were free

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

Re: What comes as late, is better than what comes as never?‏
From:	Joyce Kok (joycekok@yahoo.com)
Sent:	Tuesday, June 10, 2008 6:12:10 AM
To:	Choy Seng Joe (inversed_09@hotmail.com)