It is a truth universally ack-!/

20/12/2011

2011-12-20T23:51:00.002+08:00

I grew up with people telling me that the world's my oyster. But looking at all these CVs, I'm very much just drowning in a sea of mediocrity, aren't I?

21 years with nothing to show.

It's tiring to see others living the life I thought I'd have if maybe I just put in that bit more effort. The more I think about it, the more it becomes apparent that very little separates fame from anonymity. It must just be something chronic that I always find myself flailing in the latter.

Something chronic.

Tedium and delayed gratification//

2011-11-21T20:08:00.003+08:00

"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them."
(A Transcendentalist crackpot and phony who insisted on going back to flint and steel when he had a matchbox in his pocket.)

A cold November night.
Another year will pass.
Where did you find yourself this time?

Because Sigur Ros is on loop//

2011-09-15T19:54:00.007+08:00

This is what I want.

I'm not too sure what "this"
really is. It could be the warm glow
of the desk lamp
or the distant calming screech
of crickets.

Or it could simply be the fact
that I'm immediately,
really, truly alone.

Well, at least til
the roommate bursts
through that door with his
flamboyannt
tales of things
far removed from
the "this" and now.

For quite a long time now,
I do find myself
like an outsider. A social destitute
of sorts, thrown out in the
cold,
tropical
storm.

I pass by closed
doors and, as best I can,
catch whiffs of baked breads
that I can never imagine to taste.

That knocking on the window
you thought you heard?
That's my attempts at drawing
your attention,
away
from your hearth and conversations
of nothings and everythings.

You failed to hear me,
and I failed,
terribly,
to get out of this
desolate,
isolate
storm.

Or maybe I don't want to be heard.

Because it is in this
recluse
that I truly hear the one
that ought to be heard;

Myself,

for so long is it subdued
that I scant recognise when I heard.

Have you heard yours?

I'll run up and down the street screaming at the top of my lungs, waving my hands in the air, because clearly, I don't care. Peer out your windows at this one-Man commotion. I hear Me and oh how great that sounds.

I like how the "enter" key can help turn bad prose to even worse poetry. ^^

A tragic tale of all that's yet to come//

2011-08-07T01:41:00.002+08:00

I'll devise the best disguise
A brand new look and take them by surprise
They'll never guess what's not inside

I'll express myself with ease
With confidence and character complete
With fingers crossed they'll talk to me

But I get carried away with every page
and every fantasy
The deeper the wound, the harder I swoon
and wish that that was me

So much to say but no words to convey
The loneliness building with each passing day
But I'm getting used to it, you have to get used to it.

//

A full day before my first day of school, oh the excitement.

The Boy Named Crow

2011-05-21T08:07:00.002+08:00

"Everyone of us is losing something precious to us." he says after the phone stops ringing. "Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where i imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in the library. And to understand the workings or our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in a while, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library."

Another Place//

2011-04-20T08:37:00.003+08:00

"Another place, another life, another book,
we go on without a return ticket, on the trail
of the vanished song, the elusive lines unlocking
a whole library of meaning, our lives shelved
in comprehensive order, for us who will arrive
clothed in dust and dusk, to sit at the appointed desks
and pore over the pages, search out the thread
stringing together all arrivals and departures
which our hands will tell, over and over,
as if in prayer, as if in peace."

Boey Kim Cheng

In Exile

2011-04-19T19:18:00.001+08:00

I am an exile - a sojourner; A citizen of some other place.
All I’ve seen is just a glimmer in a shadowy mirror,
But I know one day I’ll see face to face.

I am a nomad - a wanderer; I have nowhere to lay my head down.
There’s no point in putting roots too deep when I’m moving on.
I’m not settling for this unsettling town.

My heart is filled with songs of forever -
Of a city that endures, where all is made new.
I know I don’t belong here; I’ll never
Call this place my home, I’m just passing through.

I am a pilgrim - a voyager; I won’t rest until my lips touch the shore -
Of the land that I’ve been longing for as long as I’ve lived,
Where there’ll be no pain or tears anymore.

A third of the year has passed. What have you been doing?

Firefly//

2011-04-07T22:38:00.003+08:00

For a long time the two of us sat there without moving. Only the wind, like a stream, brushed past us. In the dark the countless leaves of the zelkova rustled, rubbing against each other.

*****

I waited forever.

*****

A long time later, the firefly took off. As if remembering something, it suddenly spread its wings and in the next instant floated up over the railing and into the gathering dark. Trying to win back lost time, perhaps, it quickly traced an arc beside the water tower. It stopped for a moment, just long enough for its trail of light to blur, then flew off towards the east.

Long after the firefly disappeared, the traces of its light remained within me. In the thick dark behind my closed eyes that faint light, like some lost wandering spirit, continued to roam.

Again and again I stretched my hand out toward that darkness. But my fingers felt nothing. That tiny glow was always just out of reach.

-Murakami

Things gone quite right//

2011-03-07T00:15:00.002+08:00

In a way, the A level results were a vindication of how I feel NS had made me this much of a better person. I know of people who see it as a waste of time, but I earnestly beg to differ. Looking at how post-ORD has already seen me charging through the rest of my life (it's March already?!), I appreciate those 2 years of just taking a few steps back and watching the world go by.

That bit of time to just proofread the story of your life thus far.

I've been blessed with the time to edit glaring faults but as it is, the green man's flashing for me to carry on.

It's not much but it's an improvement. I guess all I really needed was time (and effort). Regardless of where I end up, I can safely say that I no longer have regrets and I'd like to think that that's what matters.

Travelling companion//

2011-01-18T10:23:00.005+08:00

I turned face-up on the slab of stone, gazed at the sky, and thought about all man-made satellites spinning around the Earth. The horizon was still etched in a faint glow, and stars began to blink on in the deep, wine-coloured sky. I gazed among them for the light of a satellite, but it was still too bright out to spot one with the naked eye. The sprinkling of stars looked nailed to the spot, unmoving. I closed my eyes and listened carefully for descendants of Sputnik, even now circling the Earth, gravity their only tie to the planet. Lonely metal souls in the unimpeded darkness of space, they meet, pass each other, and part, never to meet again. No words passing between them. No promises to keep.

-Murakami

"I've been waiting for you here all morning."

2011-01-07T08:44:00.002+08:00

Flowers bloom and die
Wind brings butterflies or snow
A stone won't notice.

-Pahlahniuk

So much done, yet so little to say//

2010-12-30T12:21:00.005+08:00

In retrospect, I think that 2009 and 2010 by themselves mean little to me. Rather, I'd like to think them simply as my NS years because only then, would they mean a significantly lot more.

It is not only about the new skills acquired and the new friends found, but rather, it is the intangible... something that I had gained from the time spent with others as well as by myself which makes it all the more meaningful.

This something is an awareness of me and my place in this world, which is altogether humbling yet empowering. I cannot put my finger on what it is at the moment, but I do know that what it gives me is a sense of calm and assurance which I knew not before.

There is no specifics to this, not one event significant enough for me to say, "this changed my life." But I suppose it is through the cumulative act of actually living and learning that I find myself where I am now.

Tangibly, I have done little of awe. I don't do things best and I don't always do it right. However, it no longer bothers me as much at how mediocre I think my life is. I guess what matters most is just that: that I have lived and learnt.

Maybe it is closure which I seek that I find myself typing out what I guess many would consider incomprehensible ramblings, but here I am and I guess this is what I'm doing.

For better or for worse, this is me flipping the dog-eared and tattered pages of this chapter and moving on to a new one.

Let's start with the one titled 2011.

'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tamed so.

2010-11-26T18:50:00.005+08:00

Bombing what I thought would have been my best chance for an A this morning left me to contend with the bitter notion that I really am not cut out for this.

It really is no joke, juggling work and studies. In all honesty, I was deceived into thinking that what I'd been doing as work was, at its best, an exercise in ratchet-turning, pry-pulling, soap-rinse-dry-repeating. I'm not too sure about the others, but what I had to do clearly involved the exertion of my mental capacity which, on the worst of days, left me wanting to just lie underneath a Unimog (wheel chock on) and letting the cool breeze take me somewhere far far away...

I'm very sure that my best wasn't good enough, but I gave what I could and I hoped that it counted for something. Whatever it was, my nights were no less draining, each piece of paper jostling for space in my already crowded mind.

11841, increase in flood runoff due to increase in hortonian overland flow, change 52915 exhaust re-send avi pass-out, construction of false memories to exude own female identity within patriarchal context,11556, 52156, 33250, 52487, 52171, 35864, correlation regression, AFPFL, inter-state tensions, bom kit arrived but no oil and vehicle drained already what-to-do, avi passed but headlight faulty and no spares what-to-do, long T.A.T. need to get rid of vehicle don't know where to start what-to-do, pre-conditions for take-off, take-off, drive to maturity, high production and mass consumption of goods, rounded nut stuck at gearbox cannot remove change gearbox need to pass-out what-to-do, missing tools, starter motor stuck man flip-out oil out of stock toolstore giving problems write statement men coming back late from tea break flexibility difficulty deep-weathering in tropics what-to-do.

Today, I returned my toolbox. There are 4 missing tools left and I still have to scout around, but it's a start. I'm not too sure what start it's giving me, but it's something.

Today, my dad celebrated his birthday. Forty-something. I lost count and I'm quite sure he did too but it's at a point where he starts counting down to his retirement. I hide it as much as he does with his dentures but I'm helplessly clinging on to him, to both of them. Down to the last tooth. Because in all honesty, I'm not too sure what I'd do without them. I'm at an age where filial affection shouldn't be something to be embarrassed about but here i am.

Today, I found myself wondering that if today was the first day of the rest of my life, I think I'd have to contend with the bitter notion that I really am not cut out for this.

iRetrospect//

2010-07-15T22:59:00.006+08:00

Chanced upon an album which was my soundtrack for those days of yore.

"I'm in love with the ordinary
I need a simple space to rest my head and everything gets clear
Now I'm a little ashamed for asking
But just a little helps
It gets me straight again
It helps me get over it, over it
It might seem like a dream but it's real to me."

Just like that, it's all in the past and I can't help but feel bitter about how it'll inevitably fade into a distant memory. Having been through just this little bit more and already wishing for things to be as simple to me as they were before, I can't help but shudder at the prospect of having the rest of my life ahead of me.

Time can really be cruel, sometimes.

"I got a story, it's almost finished
Now all I need is someone to tell it to
Maybe that's you
Our time is borrowed and spent too freely
Every minute I have needs to be made up, but how?

Don't it feel like sunshine after all?
The world we loved forever gone
We're only just as happy as everyone else seems to think we are."

The smell tastes like oranges and gasoline.//

2010-06-13T21:31:00.003+08:00

Big Brother isn't watching. He's singing and dancing. He's pulling rabbits out of a hat. Big Brother's busy holding your attention every moment you're awake. He' making sure you're always distracted. He's making sure you're fully absorbed.

He's making sure your imagination withers. Until it's as useful as your appendix. He's making sure your attention is always filled.

And this being fed, it's worse than being watched. With the world always filling you, no one has to worry about what's in your mind. With everyone's imagination atrophied, no one will ever be a threat to the world.

Mom asked me what she should do with one of her boys who reported sick outside camp without informing her.

"Don't give chance. Give 3 extras. All Sundays."

Somebody out there must really hate me right now.

Heh.

A Sign In New Language Brash On A Tree//

2010-05-04T21:18:00.004+08:00

What would it mean to you if you could be
with her there, dangling your own hands in the water
where blue and silver fish dart away over stone,
stoon, stein, like the meaning of things, vanish?
She feels she is somewhere else, intensely, sharply
because
of words; sings loudly in nonsense, smiling, smiling.

If you were really there what would you write on a
postcard,
or on the sand, near where the river runs into the sea?

Because the only motivation that I have is that where I am now, I've got nothing to look forward to after ORD. Doldrums.

Blasting a million moons away//

2010-04-02T11:31:00.002+08:00

This morning, I woke up to the sun.
Something about cells that made it all good.

Best. Course. Ever.

I'll just keep it to myself in the sun//

2010-03-27T21:17:00.004+08:00

It's the last week of course at OETI and it really has been quite the experience thus far. As is customary, I've acquainted myself with another lot of people through which I would not have known existed without the aid of conscription.

I guess it's in the nature of leadership training that cordiality is maintained throughout. All of us essentially want to pass out from the course with as little trouble as possible and not risk losing out from an almost certain promotion. Who wouldn't want that extra "zing" every tenth of each month?

It's nothing to boast about, knowing that where I am now is really a cheap substitute for somewhere else "garang". All I can feel now, however, is gratitude. It's not much and it will not compare. But it's enough to get me through and sometimes, getting through is the only thing that matters.

And if it's anything, I pray that it'll be the start of the many things in my life that I finally make right.

Insyaallah.

I'll Let You In On Something Secret//

2010-02-27T00:14:00.003+08:00

"First you breath out and then you have to breath in
Lash yourself repeatedly until it sticks, until it sticks
Under the eyelids, carry on cadaver
Festering interiors, all hollow breach and vapor silhouette

Need medication, more medication coursing
through your interstates
All mad and great confused and counterfeit
Kamikaze sear the blood inside me
Guess who's got it figured out."

Clearly, I'm not the best at what I do and there are many more people around who deserves this as much as anyone else does. For that, I am humbled.

And guilt-stricken.

It's been a long wait but now that it's finally here, I can almost feel the ghost of my incompetence breathing ever so heavily down my neck and it's really not a nice feeling.

So this is to coming back as a better person, because that's the very least I owe to everyone else.

Olivejuice//

Because It's All Smoke and Mirrors//

2010-01-13T20:39:00.001+08:00

"In Greece the philosophers are debating, Socrates is drinking hemlock, and she's posing for a sculpture of Erato, muse of light poetry and lovers, and she's nineteen.

In Crete she's oiling her breasts, and she's jumping bulls in the ring while King Minos applauds, and someone's painting her likeness on a wine jar, and she's nineteen.

In 2065, she's stretched out on the revolving floor of a holographic photographer, who records her as an erotic dream in Living Sensolove, imprisons the sight and sound and the very smell of her in a tiny diamond matrix. She's only nineteen.

And a caveman outlines Charlotte with a burnt stick on the wall of the temple cave, filling in the shape and the texture of her with earths and berry dyes. Nineteen.

Charlotte is there, in all places, all times, sliding through our fantasies, a girl forever.

I want her so much it makes me hurt sometimes. That's when I take down the photographs of her and just look at them for a while, wondering why I didn't try to touch her, why I wouldn't really even speak to her when she was there, and never coming up with an answer that I could understand.

That's why I've written all this down, I suppose.

This morning I noticed yet another gray hair at my temple. Charlotte is nineteen.

Somewhere."

Shift To The Intermittent

2010-01-09T18:20:00.002+08:00

It's a few days into the new year and what I'm feeling now is much of the same. Bland. I can only begin to imagine myself living a life of mediocrity, at the rate that I'm going. And what sort of consolation would it be to know that you are most alive when your pulse picks up?

Your heart beating wildly as you wretch at your own insignificance.

This cognitive dissonance has got the mangled superstar in me squirming violently in this bird cage.

The bird cage edges closer to the edge and there is still no escape, maybe there never was.

Check these soul satellites//

2009-12-24T18:26:00.005+08:00

It's too frequently these days that I find myself
on the fringe of all things great.
Proximity's all well and good,
but there's little joy in being under someone else's shadow.
No one ever plans to lead a life of playing second fiddle.

Spent time last night lying down on some back road in the middle of literal nowhere with guys that made my academic life less of a living hell, back in the days.

It's been 7 fucking long years.

Literal nowhere has a way of inciting retrospection. So this is to all the fuckery we got ourselves in and would still put ourselves through even if we could have had things any other way.

A Place In The Dirt//

2009-11-25T21:44:00.003+08:00

I've been way in over my head these few weeks that I hardly had time to brood over the miserable that is my life. But I guess that that's something which I can benefit from. In any case, Thursday cannot come any sooner for me because I'd very much like to bid fare-good riddance-well to cohesion.

Seriously though, after playing my part in the above-mentioned activity, I can tell that the desk-bound really deserves more appreciation, if only for the sheer brain-wreck which their job entails. Nevermind that there is a lack of grime involved in their work process. Paperwork is a bitch, especially in The Organisation. Anyway, without these people, whatever that is done in the workshop counts for little because, well, it really isn't accounted for, is it?

Clerks ftw!

Because epiphany is too strong a word//

2009-11-03T20:08:00.002+08:00

Regardless of the outcome;

When I joined the organisation, I was an idealist wanting to be the best at everything, wanting to give the most for anything.

Half of the dog years of my life is almost over and where do I see myself now?

Many a times I am humbled by how insignificant I am to the natural order of things. Circumstances saw to it that I am where I am now, for better or for worse. But it has come to a point in which I simply grit my teeth, day in and day out, and hope for a better tomorrow. But where I am now, what is tomorrow that isn't today?

Only more of the same.

Is what I'm feeling now what everyone else calls the strong desire to keep still, serve and fuck off?

021210. It begins.

Throw caution and myself into the wind//

2009-10-31T11:33:00.003+08:00

Parody of an angel
Miles above the sea
I hear the voice of reason
Screaming after me
"You've flown too high boy, now you're too close to the sun,
Soon your makeshift wings will come undone"

But how will I know limits from lies if I never try?

There's no promise of safety with these secondhand wings
But I'm willing to find out what impossible means
I'll climb to the heavens on feathers and dreams
Because the melting point of wax means nothing to me.

A leap of faith.

Prefrontal Cortex//

2009-10-09T21:28:00.006+08:00

A full day of recuperation does wonders to the human body. Now, I feel fully invigorated, energized and with a cup of coffee in hand, ready to take on what ever the world's got to throw at me.

World history, to be exact.

All these at 2100hrs.

Olivejuice//

Doublespeak//

2009-09-27T13:28:00.001+08:00

I was browsing around The Online Citizen and came across this rather old article by Alfian Saat. Taken somewhat out of context but i couldn't have phrased it any better myself.

"I can only speak of the circle of Malay friends that I have, although I suspect that our numbers are growing. We’re a product of Singapore’s bilingual education system, and many of us come from lower-middle-to-middle-class backgrounds. We all received decent grades for our Malay in school, even though in Malay class, we’d probably put our hands up and ask, ‘Cikgu, ‘imagination’ cakap Melayu apa?’ (How do you say ‘imagination’ in Malay?)

Our mothers are prone to melodramatic meltdowns and our fathers watch too much Malaysian news on TV. We think a ‘lepak’ (idling) place like Simpang Bedok possesses its charms because they have Malaysian stall assistants who hand you money with their right hand, their left hand respectfully clasping their right wrist. We like hanging out at the Tanjong Pagar Railway Station because it’s on Malaysian land and we can smoke to our hearts’ content–although we’ll also admit that the whole idea of being in a place where the railway is called Keretapi Tanah Melayu (literally ‘Train Running On Malay Soil’) does warm and fuzzy things to our self-worth.

We’ve had our individual encounters with service staff from China who spoke to us in Mandarin, and our coping strategies included advice from religion: ‘kesabaran itu sebahagian daripada iman’ (patience is part of faith), our mothers’ sayings: ‘biar orang buat kita, jangan kita yang buat orang’ (let others do unto us, but never should we do unto others), and of course the wisdom of P. Ramlee movies: the ‘cubaan…’ (this is just a trial) lament from the movie ‘Pendekar Bujang Lapok’.

We think the Chinese can’t sing or dance as well as us because they all ‘takde soul’. Indians, on the other hand, have both soul and rhythm. We have at least one friend who jams in a band.

We love our slang, much of which consists of distorted English loan-words: ‘over’ (excessive), ‘potong steam’ (to interrupt something abruptly, causing one to lose momentum) and ‘tangkap feel’ (to be inspired). Once in a while, we’ll invent our own: the affectionate ‘Mintod’ (Minah + Tudung) and ’sentimentel’ (sentimental + mentel, or ‘coy’), although we know that when it comes to neologistic invention we’re way behind the good people of Jakarta.

We think Malay MP’s are handsomely paid mouthpieces for the State, a sentiment we sometimes share with our parents, who’d instead use the phrase ‘Pak Turut’ (Mr Yes-man). We think the ‘drug problem’ shouldn’t be handled on a community level, like how nobody insists that the Chinese Development Assistance Council should be tackling the ‘gambling problem’ or that the Singapore Indian Development Association should be dealing with the ‘alcoholism problem’. We know how difficult it is to talk about Malay marginality in Singapore–the Malays who do it are accused of a ‘victim mentality’, and the non-Malays who do it tend to be opposition politicians (like Chiam See Tong who spoke about Malays and the army in Parliament, or Chee Soon Juan who spoke about the tudung issue at Speaker’s Corner), and they get accused of ‘politicking’.

We think Berita Harian gets carried away with their ‘Anak Melayu’ stories, of the ‘Anak Melayu Mengharumkan Nama Bangsa’ (literally—‘Malay Child Adds Fragrance to the Community’s Name’) variety. We think that images of a Malay graduate wearing his or her convocation gown belongs to the category of images on laminated motivational posters–inspirational, but in the cheesiest way possible (caption: ‘if they can do it, you can do it too!’). We’re sick and tired of watching English TV shows where a Malay lead (Aaron Aziz, Suhaimi Yusof) plays a policeman. We watch Singapore films like ‘12 Storeys’, where a Malay man asks a lead character for free tuition for his son (which means his son’s not good at his studies, and also, that he’s cheap) and ‘Money No Enough’, where a Malay man plays a TV salesman (a pushover who gets bullied by Jack Neo and Mark Lee into giving them free gifts) and wonder when the parade of humiliating stereotypes will end."

In any case, LAB this week. Intense.

Olivejuice//

Between the river and raven, I'm fit//

2009-09-09T22:45:00.002+08:00

Blueprint

Amazing how it takes the smallest things, like a bus ride,
to transport you to the important issues, such as death
and all its different manifestations. Approaching 7pm,
shadows are already climbing out of the sky to put out
the skyscrapers like candles, ink a river under the highway
to black opacity. You wonder about the years you have

emptied into your present job, the sameness of expression
with which your wife greets you in the evenings, sullen
face of your son at the dinner table, the taste of food
reduced to blandness on your tongue, while the television
in the hall blares forth winners of another game show.

You gaze out the bus window at the moon's half-grin
and remember that film your colleagues hated, which
wounded you in some deep, unspeakable way, like
the scene when the male lead hesitated for more than
what was only a minute before pushing a knife's edge

against the taut curve of his wrist, with that sharply
held breath before every attempt, its quivering release
upon failure. This process you are so familiar with,
each hesitation recurring to a lullaby of the same,
these repetitions the invisible blueprint of a life. Stars

perforate the sky, like the eyes of dead people
suspended outside of time peering in, the place where
your soul must have come from, yanked down by ropes
of pure longing. You wonder at the history of mankind,

calculating the sum total of your consequence in relation
to its yet interminable drama. Quickly, you drift on
to happier subjects, like your son, who pointed one day
at clouds rising into houses, pillars, collapsible cities.
You wonder what you were like at that age. In school,

a teacher commented that you had a talent for stories,
a startling gift for description. You recollect the praises
scribbled in blue across the bottom of a report card
that dad signed, then handed back to you without a word
of compliment. You tell yourself you are better towards
your own son: more tender, more inclined to praise.

None of you can account for the exact moment when
that cynicism flew into his face to lock itself in.
You attribute rudeness to his friends, your wife blames
you for spoiling him from the very beginning. You
glare helplessly at desert maps of your palms, at the
paperweights of whitened knuckles pinning you down

to the world. A poet said that all of us are searching
ultimately for our graves. You think about graves, how
your wife was a hole in the ground you crawled into
and remained for so long you forgot what love was.
You complain to yourself about how this bus is taking
too long to bring you home. The road stretches out

like your father on his bed the morning he did not wake.
He looked no different, and religion made you believe
another sort of wakefulness was prepared for him. You
stood there observing him, dwelling upon decomposition,
how the air would dissolve his body, reclaim the space
it once occupied. You glimpse at your watch, this gift

from your son for Father's Day you found out was really
bought by your wife; this watch that never slows down
for the ecstatic instant, but for boredom's uniformity.
Last week, you went grocery shopping with your family

at the supermarket around your block, and discovered
you had lost your wallet, or maybe dropped it somewhere
between the vegetables and the dairy section. You heard,
on the intercom, the voice of the one who had found it,

a girl mispronouncing your name again and again. And
you left your wife, your son by the trolley, both turning
to strangers with their unison expression of puzzlement
and mild irritation. You hurried down aisle after aisle,
so eager to retrieve the little you could have lost,

realizing instead you were unable to find the counter.
You kept walking and walking alongside rows and rows
of shampoo bottles pasted with women's faces cracked
wide open by smiles and that barely audible laughter.

You became convinced there was no counter. That bitch
repeated again what was once your name. You halted,
much to the approval of tin cans of baby powder, images
of babies so cute you could smash a fist into every tin.

Fluorescent lights swelled inside your head to blossom
into a panic: at once unbearable, yet oddly calming,
as you never felt so close to alive, so potentially free.

-Cyril Wong.

Stacks//

2009-08-26T22:52:00.004+08:00

The vast dichotomy between most of my thoughts and actions recently struck me like an anvil to the head. I'd like to think that it's one of those bad things that comes along with being stuck in a(nother) routine, really.

Don't get me wrong. Where job satisfaction is concerned, I must say that I'm getting the better deal compared to my counterparts elsewhere. But "work" being a multiplication of force and distance, along with all the unaccounted for "wants" being swept under the carpet of "To Be Reviewed At A Later Date", there's really a lack of personal fulfilment here.

A rat race, really.

At first, I always thought that I could be so much more. But looking at me now, I really am quite the sad product of all the opportunities long foregone, aren't I?

On hindsight, I've been living a life of wanting to prove myself to the world for so long (without really proving anything) that I'm quite unfamiliar with otherwise. I admit to having crossed the fine line between optimism and delusion for far so many times, mistaking denial for a positive disposition and honestly not batting an eyelid in the face of my own flippancy.

If self-acceptance is the first step to recovery, then I'm resigned to thinking that things won't improve for me anytime forever.

//

Gasket.

2009-08-09T16:17:00.002+08:00

Just came back from Changi Chalet and leaving for MRAC Project "S" and General Overnight Lepz followed by Bt Timah with the Broz soon. Been quite a tiring few days, what with the lack of sleep that I've been (and will be) getting.

R15 just got launched yesterday. TP next week. 8.01 not yet cleared. Guh.

K power nap.

Happy Birthday, Singapore.

Centrifuge.

2009-08-01T21:43:00.002+08:00

A week's worth of rotting away at home, with nothing much for companionship but my laptop, my notes and the pull-up bar at my door. And The Deathly Hallows. And Dexter Season 1.

Ok, fine. What I've been doing all week is simply nibbling on the edges of things. Nothing concrete nor productive. It sucks, i know. I'll work something out soon enough.

Watched The Hangover today. Haven't laughed this hard since, well, quite a long while. It's not award winning stuff but hey, it's really good at what it does. In any case, Zach Galifianakis is quite the revelation. His portrayal of awkward innocence is very genius. Apart from that, some rather gratuitous flesh scenes here and there. -shudder.

I'm due for a trip to Kino to get/find/order the new Lit texts. And some History books for reference.

This has been bugging me, but why is there always a crowd outside a video shop whenever they're showing some Michael Jackson concert even when half the time, it's on mute? Queer.

Olivejuice//

VLAD THE IMPALER!!QQ!!!

2009-07-29T11:45:00.001+08:00

Zomg new handgrease!

2009-07-24T22:11:00.004+08:00

Quite an exhausting week at work, overtiming and with no other ojes in the section left to share the great times with. And an even greater time to fall sick. Tsk.

Calling it a day.

It's been a long week.

2009-07-18T21:35:00.005+08:00

I might not be a combat personnel but I definitely have my work cut out for me. It does not help that for some reason, I'm always assigned to jobs with vehicles parked outside the workshop. Not quite the sun, surf and sea, but it comes close.

Sweat, slime and six-thirty.

In any case, stayed overnight in town with the AC guys last night. The original plan of a full matscapade (bicycle,fishing,everything in between) fell short because our street directory fell sick with gonorrhea, syphillis and a touch of fever. So instead, we languished ourselves in vices quite prominent amongst the dying generation of pre 2k youths. Lan'd till we couldn't anymore and lepak till the sun came up. I would have called it pointless, but the appeal of leading a decadent but carefree life kinda sticks. Now however, I feel quite horrible because my entire Saturday was spent in a state of comatose-recuperation. I have no choice but to stay up all of tonight because there really isn't much sleep left in me. And my back aches.

Got to love and appreciate No Fear Shakespeare, especially now.

Olivejuice//

Safety Message For The Day//

2009-07-04T22:15:00.005+08:00

In light of the recent case of an officer being run over by a Land Rover, your friendly neighbourhood technician would like to remind everybody that "Safety Starts With Me!"

In it's own sphere of influence//

2009-06-30T22:41:00.003+08:00

It really does feel surreal being perceived as a failure by everyone else. Somebody told me once that numbers do not define who we are. Well, he's right. Because what defines us is not the numbers but where they bring us. So where numbers have failed me, where I have no place in this meritocracy, where all social stigma can do is stick, what else can i do but to fall back on what little else I know?

Another act of defiance on my part. We'll see where that takes me this time around.

Having to report to Seletar Camp tomorrow morning for SAF Day, they could not have made it any more inconvenient.

Quite the decision maker//

2009-06-21T13:33:00.002+08:00

Time to start mugging.

Sneaking through the balcony//

2009-06-20T00:50:00.006+08:00

Finally got to spend some time with the camera and found a few rather old pictures which i should have put up, but didn't.

Yeap, I think it's about time for my own little cathartic release.

Mom slimmed down alot. She told me that she's been doing belly dancing and hip hop at Amore Fitness. Perks that she gets from being a regular in the army. I've been trying (and failing) to flush the images out of my system ever since.

Dad told me how proud it was to have a son who's serving the nation. Ever the civil servant that he is.

At that point in time, we were blissfully unaware that command schoool was never an option. Mom had been telling all her friends in camp that I would be an officer some day. Dad, he wasn't as enthusiastic. But nonetheless, I could tell that in his own quiet way, he wouldn't expect any less from me. When I found out that I was going to be a technician, god was I disappointed, nevermind my parents.

Till today, I would be lying when I say that I'm not feeling any form of resentment. But my parents, they seem to have accepted me for whom I've been assigned to be. They even did a whole lot of damage control on my behalf. I should feel really lucky to have them. <3. Anw, since they've moved on, I guess I really should too.

So pass me a 7, 13, 17, a ratchet and a pair of safety boots and point me to the rover!

Ok, maybe after tea break.

Olivejuice// kk i call nao dehx.

I once asked whether Thrice was ever enough//

2009-06-14T22:01:00.005+08:00

I stand on the cliffs with my son next to me
This island our prison, our home
And everyday we look out at the sea
This place is all he's ever known

"But I've got a plan," He sung
Wax and some string, some feathers I stole from a bird
We leap from the cliff and we hear the wind sing a song that's too perfect for words

But son, please keep a steady wing
And know you're the only one that means anything to me
Steer clear of the sun, or you'll find yourself in the sea

Now safely away, I let out a cry
"We'll make the mainland by noon"
But Icarus climbs higher still in the sky
Maybe I've spoken too soon

But son, please keep a steady wing
And know you're the only one that means anything to me
Steer clear of the sun, or you'll find yourself in the sea
Won't you look at your wings
They're coming undone
They're splitting at the seams
Steer clear of the sun, for once wont you listen to me?

Oh God!
Why is this happening to me?
All I wanted was new life for my son to grow up free
And now you took the only thing that meant anything to me
I'll never fly again, I'll hang up my wings.

New Again.

2009-06-01T23:05:00.003+08:00

These past few weeks had been quite epic. The Magical Adventures of Anwaar and Ho (later simply known as The Mole) eventually played for the Regular's Mess, skipping many many (idle, regardless) days back in OETI. The Mess. Quite happening, ah. Beer, casino, auction, Live bands(us), beer, beer, beer, tall prettifulsome beer girls in short black dresses and killer heels. Did I mention beer?

Staying away from the beer, of course, left lots of room for the buffet after our performance. Apart from our guaranteed days off for our performance, really, quite the happening event, luh.

Graduated from OETI last Friday. I must say, I'm really going to miss these guys a whole lot. A hell lot, i swear. We have got to meet up again, just to keep in contact. And the Hydraulics Room. -sigh.

Hate closure.

At least I know I can always fall back on having my tea breaks everyday, 2 times a day.

On an entirely different note, I finally threw away my long-serving cupboard to make way for, well, more space. And a new air con system. I kinda realised, when i hacked it down into smaller pieces, that the cupboard had stuck with me (vice versa) through my highs and lows. Now, I cannot help but reciprocate the void that is my room.

Hate hate closure.

It's like clutching in//

2009-05-21T20:00:00.004+08:00

The thing about being in the army is that you tend to feel completely detached from the "real world". You see all these things going on and frankly, it really doesn't matter because you're wrapped in cellophane. Nothing matters that much because nothing gets through.

It's like getting a huge dose of anesthesia from your dentist. Maybe when I finally wake up more than a year from now, it'll all come down on me hard. Maybe then, I'll really start scrambling to pick up the pieces that I'm letting slip today. Maybe now, even as I type this, it is already too late.

Or maybe I'll be able to suck it all in, let it linger and eventually blow it all out again.

Right now, I'm fine just freewheeling down this long and slippery hill. Thrills.

Olivejuice//

Part time with a film projectionist//

2009-05-18T22:57:00.004+08:00

The Magical Adventures of Anwaar and Ho did quite well for Trainee's Day. Too well, in fact that we're supposed to expand our repertoire of songs and play at some regular's mess this Friday. For a moment, I thought that MDC would be coming down again for the mess but I thought wrong. Darn. I really need to start learning the new songs, bother. This and I still have to keep up with the curriculum, nevermind that the platoon does nothing but "lepak" in the Hydraulics room all day regardless.

Apparently, I've got to book my Riding Theory Test like asap because the wait's going to be long. I'll do that as soon as I pass my evaluation tomorrow night, hopefully. Should've done this much much earlier and maybe the wait won't eat into my potential road lessons. Must get licence soon, tsk.

I'm starting to dread again because I'll be leaving OETI in almost a week. Another closure. Too many for me to cope with in recent times, really. -sigh.

Need to make report and polish boots.

Olivejuice// k i call you nao.

Stamp Collecting//

2009-05-09T08:44:00.004+08:00

I want to bequeath my daughter and the albums
whole, the worlds I found and arranged,
but they have diminished to this half-filled, yellowed
album, proudly marked 1973, owned
bilingually in English and Chinese.
A few stamps have slipped from their moorings
and some lodge in the wrong countries;
others like the Burmese row still sit
faithfully in place. The missing ranks lost,
like many other things,
in transit, between houses, countries
and lives.

But in a strange way they are here,
all of the missing stamps and years,
the way those vanished republics
emerge in the atlas with new names,
present as my daughter picks
the last of a Singapore series
when it was still part of Malaya,
fingers the face of a youthful Elizabeth
pendant over a Chinese junk,
and slips it home.

-Boey Kim Cheng

Practical tests on clutch freeplay, brake drum stripping, fault analysis and all that jazz which, if I had things my way, shouldn't concern me this past week. Otherwise, it's been a good week. Lots of doing nothing in camp and a packed Friday that was capped with an altogether unimpressive malay drama at RJ (sorry).

On hindsight, I've had my fair share of bad malay dramas so I shouldn't be one to complain. -shudders.

Quite inevitably, doing mostly nothing for a whole week would lead to introspection that is purely self-deprecating in nature. But I've made a habit of dousing negativity with a whole lot of silver lining, I don't know whether it's a good thing.

Guess I'll just make do.

Olivejuice//

How to feel like a useless fuck.

2009-04-29T22:48:00.002+08:00

By not being able to go private candidate because registration has closed and you have to wait a year, that's how.

It follows like a silhouette//

2009-04-26T12:36:00.000+08:00

Pregnant With Anticipation//

2009-04-19T20:55:00.008+08:00

Donated my first bag of blood last week. It's quite something, if I can say so myself, considering how needles scare the piss out of me. Found myself laughing somewhat hysterically as the nurse poked that darn needle into me. I couldn't even bring myself to looking at my arm, god knows where I was looking at throughout the whole time. But nonetheless, I went through it unscathed. Plus I get a complimentary half-day pass, along with another half-day pass from getting A in a test. Next week looks promising enough.

The only thing close to an interview I've got so far is a Dental FFI at Safti towards the end of this month. Not really what I was fishing for at this point in time (damn you NTU, call me already!), but nevertheless, what this means for me is that I'm a step away from serving the most part of my NS overseas. I'm not too sure how I should feel right now. I practically signed up for this, and with good reason too. But now, I'm not too sure if it's good enough a reason.

Funny how a little bit of insecurity goes a long way, huh? -sigh.

Ok, parents just came back from Harvey Norman. Looks like we're finally getting our aircon problem fixed. Plus some extras. O.o

If I go, I think I'm going to miss my family. And that girlfriend of mine.

Olivejuice//

Gravity//

2009-04-05T17:13:00.001+08:00

A Place to Safekeep//

2009-04-04T23:15:00.007+08:00

Practically spent the whole day with ma'am. Went to PS early in the morning to buy a pair of movie tickets first, using my Safra card, no less. Then we had McBreakfast before walking to Wisma. Ma'am had to check if she could send her phone in for repairs. The same model had been giving me lots of problems in the past as well, so good thing it's still under warranty.

After that, we walked to Borders where Ma'am made use of the gift card which she got. Then we went to the Apple shop where i got myself a leather casing for my iPod. Following which, we walked to Far East where i looked for sleeves which i could wear for my bike lessons. Mom bought me a pair already, a simple black pair. But i figured that since i was at it, why not get the full blown combination of purple/black, green/black or better yet, skulls and such, no? Decided against buying them for now.

So then we managed to catch 'Coming Soon' at 2pm. Quite your typical Thai horror and i mean it in a good way. Great use of lights and sounds. Suspense, plot twists (gotta love Thai storylines) and overall scare factor was proper. Though the emotional depth of the characters weren't explored that much, there's only so much to be covered in so little time, no? So that blemish aside, I quite liked the movie very much. It's been a while since i last caught a decent horror movie. Yay.

Sent Ma'am off and met the guys for supper w/o lanning. Another routine Saturday, really. Nothing much to complain about.

Though i am, to a very large extent, somewhat broke.

I think i have to start studying very soon. I mean, all this brawn counts for little if you can carry an engine but not fix it, right?

Olivejuice because i'm so full of myself and i'm perfect that way//

Not quite decadence//

2009-04-02T14:49:00.003+08:00

It's tea break now, barely an hour past lunchtime and afternoon nap. Lessons today was quite intense. Well, not really but at least we actually did something productive for once. Air con and intense sessions of being in a constant state of idle aside, I have a feeling that being in OETI (and Bronco) is one of the better things that had happened to me in NS.

That aside, I've finally gotten around to committing some proper time at BBDC. I think that where I am now, I most probably won't have this much free time, well, for a long time to come.

Okeh got to go add new platoonmates on msn/facebook.

Talk about silver lining//

2009-03-25T23:58:00.002+08:00

Honestly, I was heartbroken.

It was my fault that I got too confident about getting into command school that I didn't give myself a chance to weigh out other possible outcomes. Of course, fate has a way of working its way around things, weaving in and out of sight until it finally decides to land a sucker punch and poof, here I am in OETI training to be a technician.

It's not even a combat vocation. Talk about feeling cheated and played out at the last possible moment.

Bother.

In any case, OETI is like Heaven, even when i compare it to Bronco. Which is quite scary if you think about it. :/

Anw, I applied for overseas posting. We'll see how that goes.

OlivejuiceX// nice being stuck with you for 4 years. kentalface.

"Platoon 2! Straight ahead! Ladang!"

2009-03-19T09:18:00.001+08:00

What i hate more is having a private's pay for the next 2 years. -sigh.

These boots are made for walking//

2009-03-15T10:33:00.004+08:00

I hate having a recruit's pay. Tsk.

The art of being mediocre.

2009-03-13T22:29:00.003+08:00

The last week in Tekong brought a whole new dimension to the word "lepak". It came to a point where we could have begged our sergeants to give us something to do. Anything, just to escape sleeping our days away (and ostensibly regaining our lost pounds).

Nonetheless,

15 weeks is a long time, especially so when you share the same bunk, shower, toilet seat and, more frequently than not, the same bed with other boys. Naked, no less. Before this, many of us never truly understood "blood, sweat and tears". "You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours" was never meant to be literal until now. All the cliches, they make more sense now.

A few more days to POP, and though i'm glad that this phase of my life will be over, a part of me doesn't want to let go. At first, i thought the heaviness that i felt was because of my A levels. But results day came and went and i realised that, no, it's more than that. I'm actually fucking sad that i have to leave Bronco. Nevermind that it's as dysfuntional and "werelakonecornerfirst,noneedtorush"-minded (God that seriously pisses me off, sometimes). I had been a sad sack of potato recently but my life seemed a bit brighter over the past 15 weeks, thanks to the great many colourful characters that i've met here in Bronco Company. It's sad that I'll be leaving that behind.

Nonetheless,

"It's not what you leave behind, it's what you'll gain in the days ahead."

That's what the poster said when i first enlisted. That's what the poster will say when i leave Tekong next Wednesday.

Olivejuice//

Because they don't bite//

2009-02-27T22:16:00.003+08:00

I may not be at the frontier of good music at times and being isolated from civilisation for the most part of my prime doesn't help much either. But I'd like to think that it's never too late to start on good music, corny 80's revivalist or otherwise.

A couple more weeks to POP and have i mentioned how much i hate dealing with closure?

Olivejuice// only because you're forcing me to and i love you too much to do otherwise. -sigh.

Another cup of instant coffee//

2009-02-22T14:45:00.003+08:00

It's like wearing a brand new pair of boots all over again, isn't it? Stifling. And the blisters do not make it any better. It's the kind of familiarity that you are better off without. And no matter how appealing it is, at the end of the day, to have a seasoned pair of boots, you come out of it significantly more indifferent to the circumstances than you were before. A routine.

Book-in.

-sigh.

two

2009-02-13T16:07:00.001+08:00

okay this is failz. anw nazri's coming back tonight so haha owells till next time~ (:

HAPPY VALENTINES' DAY! =D

olivejuice//

numero uno

2009-02-09T23:12:00.003+08:00

Hullo. nazri thought i shouldnt be so mush and moan bout missing him so he told me to mess with his blog and post some entries so here i am. Hi! (:

anww bugger's currently having fun at tekong yup. he spent today running about doing army stuff and well, more army stuff. he's been spamming runs and crunches and whatever else and is back to being his old sexy self ((:

okay he prolly wouldnt want me to add any personal details so the above should suffice for now. shall update when bugger calls.. haha this is quite fun. yay cheap thrill! =D

olivejuice//
ps. liyana thinks this entry is retarded but meh am still getting the hang of it. shall improve imposter blogging skillz over time yes.

Since you wanted it this badly, K5//

2009-02-01T16:28:00.010+08:00

"Ok Kilo, our mission is to clear this minefield ahead to make way for supplies to be safely sent down via heli. We'll have 4 men as sentry, 2IC will take charge of them. The rest of us, we'll form a line and sweep across the minefield. Sound off if a mine is found. Make sure our arc of search overlaps. Any questions before we begin? ... Ok let's go!"

"IC, 4 mines have been found and 1 has exploded, injuring one of your men"

"2 of you, prepare the stretcher! The rest of you, mark the spotted mines and do not proceed any further!"

"IC, enemy has opened fire!"

"Contacted! Take cover! ... K12, K2, get out of the clearing and take cover, dammit! Group, open fire!"

"IC, direction of enemy fire is uncertain."

"Oh shit."

"Enemy has stopped firing."

"Group recover and high alert. Medic, get the casualty on the stretcher now."

"Enemy has opened fire again"

"Group take cover!"

"Enemy has stopped firing. You have another casualty. New order from HQ is for you and your men to retrograde back to base and await further instructions."

"Group, I need 4 of you to scout ahead and clear the way for the rest of us. We need a groundsheet as a makeshift stretcher for the other casualty."

...

"IC the casualties are too fucking heavy!"

"Fuck."

"IC, enemy has begun artillery bombardment."

"Group, take cover! Arti arti arti arti!"

"Arti fire has stopped. IC, Double your men to the last checkpoint now!"

"Kilo, move out!"

"We have reached the objective, Kilo orange! ... Mission accomplished. Nice work, guys."

Damn shiok.

Let's get fucking freaky now//

2009-01-27T00:56:00.003+08:00

So very wrong, it's actually not bad. Shoot me.

A stop-gap solution//

2009-01-26T14:08:00.002+08:00

LAGOS (Reuters) - Police in Nigeria are holding a goat on suspicion of attempted armed robbery.

Vigilantes took the black and white beast to the police saying it was an armed robber who had used black magic to transform himself into a goat to escape arrest after trying to steal a Mazda 323.

"The group of vigilante men came to report that while they were on patrol they saw some hoodlums attempting to rob a car. They pursued them. However one of them escaped while the other turned into a goat," Kwara state police spokesman Tunde Mohammed told Reuters by telephone.

"We cannot confirm the story, but the goat is in our custody. We cannot base our information on something mystical. It is something that has to be proved scientifically, that a human being turned into a goat," he said.

Belief in witchcraft is widespread in parts of Nigeria, Africa's most populous nation. Residents came to the police station to see the goat, photographed in one national newspaper on its knees next to a pile of straw.

On a more serious note, I've got, believe it or not, homework to finish before my next book-in.

Damned reflections.

Because there's not enough of idle//

2009-01-25T10:58:00.002+08:00

I've thought about it and I've decided that if all goes well for me in BMT, I'm signing on to the army.

K bye.

The Wrong Kind Of Pill//

2009-01-24T10:01:00.002+08:00

Most of the Aegean Sea rushes into my bedroom and glitters for me,
The hills of Gallipoli all throw up their bones for my industry,
So I build from the charnel the ale house,
I build from the tomb a palace of dreams,
That old barren rockface got silver seams for a miner of middling means,
Singing poems of dissolution and schemes -

Safety ring twist, safety ring pull, safety ring out. GRENADE!! -ducks.

Now I need to learn my knots.

A Valium-induced reaction//

2009-01-18T12:38:00.003+08:00

Last year, I was a student.
This year, a soldier.
I'd like to know who I was in between.

Angry conversations and violence//

2009-01-18T10:37:00.003+08:00

Spending my birthday in a half-dug grave was not my idea of getting the excite, not with wet soil and a termite nest just next to my head. (Heat rash, blisters and fatigue aside.) But gazing at the clear night sky and the many fireflies that I could have just reached out to grab, I guess nature has its own way of wishing me all the best as I forever leave behind any pretense of innocence that I wish I still had over these past few years.

To everyone who wished me a happy birthday, thank you so very much for remembering while I was still away and I apologise for not being able to reply. Here's a smiley though! :)

"Walk softly, and carry a big gun."
//

Because there will always be war//

2009-01-10T22:05:00.002+08:00

As I eagerly wait for my next book-in (and field camp), I feel that it is required of me to express just how my girlfriend, with all her faults and insecurities, means the world to me.

And I'm pretty much a useless blob without her. Ok maybe even more of a useless blob than I already am.

I just like my girlfriend alot.

Ok, bye.

Instances and Parties//

2009-01-01T00:36:00.006+08:00

These boxes of files of notes of everything that I should have spent more time with over the past 2 years, they're choking me because of the same neglect that I had shown to everything else that I had claimed to be mine. The same neglect that left me to lead a life of what-ifs and should-haves. I am lifeless. Inanimate. Just like these boxes.

I know that I am more than this. I just don't know whether I'm too late.

Happy new year.

The Art of Being Hasty//

2008-12-26T13:39:00.003+08:00

I'm going to let Bella sleep in my room when I'm in camp. She better not break anything. Roar.

When you start counting down to zero//

2008-12-25T07:46:00.006+08:00

My first few weeks in Tekong had been anything but what 6 years (ok, 4 active years)of NCC training had prepared me for. Let's just say that NCC had oversubscribed regimentation onto its cadets, and we're not even talking about the girl units yet. Another one of those not so rare moments that left me feeling cheated.

I don't know, maybe it's just the way my Company functions. Touch and go. Hit and run. Basically, do anything but don't get caught. Because if you mess up, you have hell to pay. Or at least that's what we'd all like to think. Till now, we are all of us still testing the limits of how far we can step over the grey area before the sharks come biting at our feet. Trust me, the grey area is wide.

This is not to say that I'm unappreciative of the reciprocity that is expected of me. It is definitely nice to know that (thus far) we're not treated as mere soldiers by our superiors, but rather, as fellow brothers and even sons. Just to be respected as the (flawed) humans that we all are, I cannot ask for more.

Being in my Company also helped to correct or strengthen my resolve over prejudices (flawed or otherwise) I had for the different denominations.

Being thrown into a motley crowd is like being thrown into a java lamp (i really need to buy one). The feeling of being helplessly bobbled around the edges of things. The feeling of being just about to before you get dragged away to another almost there.

I may never understand how some of my new acquaintances function, but I am certain now that no matter how flawed one's exterior may be, therein lies another individual who is more at ease with himself than i can ever hope to be in the near future. That by itself is enough reason for me to continue sticking with them during my BMT stay.

Not the poultice that i was looking for but I'm really actually having a good time and that is all that matters at my age, no?

Because I've gots a new hobby//

2008-12-21T10:03:00.005+08:00

I guess there's no need to go to Arab Street now if anybody at home has a sudden craving for shisha.

Going out to squander away my first pay now.

Because the old No.4 is definitely more sexciting to the opposite sex.

2008-12-20T09:01:00.002+08:00

Bronco, or bronc, is a term used in the United States and Canada to refer to an untrained horse or one that habitually bucks. It may refer to a feral horse that has lived in the wild its entire life, but is also used to refer to domestic horses not yet fully trained to saddle, and hence prone to unpredictable behavior, particularly bucking.

-Wiki

In the early morning march
With a field pack on my back
With an aching in my heart
And my shirt is full of sweat.

I'm a long, long way from home
And I miss my lover so
In the early morning march
When the cold wind blows.

I know, I know
You have to go
So hurry back home
Because I miss you so.

Because moments of decision passed by unnoticed//

2008-11-29T00:21:00.004+08:00

The nature of confessional writing is such that through the purging of your emotions, you would hope that at the end of it, you would come out with a greater acceptance for yourself. Realisation through exhibitionism. Dirty laundry.

That, or you're left drowning in the flood of your own self-deprecation.

Till this day, I cannot bring myself to finding the exact words that gives my deep-rooted malaise some form of shape. I

-

Forget it. I'll be back in three weeks.

Neon light's blinking vacancy//

2008-11-25T21:00:00.001+08:00

It kills me to discover this director's cut so so very late.

When all that really isn't//

2008-11-22T06:13:00.002+08:00

It's not that i enjoy school life. It's the fact that for the past 18 years of my life, that was the only responsibility i had that was a constant. But now they're taking away a huge piece from the puzzle that i worked so hard to complete and if there's anything that i'm feeling now, it's betrayal.

I realise that it's still too early to condemn myself to such a fate. In fact, where i'm planning to go for the rest of my life should more or less quench this still insatiable desire to get back, back, back to school life. Early morning pledges. Unnecessary red tape. Canteen food. It's just a matter of time and luck. Impatience and resignation.

"I'm throwing away pictures that i never should have taken in the first place"

Because i rarely get emotional.//

2008-11-21T00:50:00.000+08:00

I have decided that yesterday morning would be last time that i would have to get up for school. As stupid and as maudlin as it sounds, i am going to spend my last night as a full-fledged, uniformed student doing (with the exception of last thursday) what i have failed to be bothered to do all along; I am staying up for an all-nighter. So between Plath, Boey, Shakespeare and me, we're going to have a hell of a night together. A chaotic free-for-all.

The way I had always wanted it to be.

I hear a distant cry for a limit breaker.

1 step away.

Last nights of your childhood//

2008-11-18T23:11:00.000+08:00

Have i mentioned how bad i am at handling closure? Well, i really am bad at it.

Fucking insecurities.

Andy Warhol was wrong//

2008-11-16T18:21:00.000+08:00

"In the future, people won't be famous for fifteen minutes. No, in the future, everyone will sit next to someone famous for at least fifteen minutes."

Welcome back to the cult//

The need to address a certain polarity//

2008-11-15T11:11:00.000+08:00

Honestly speaking, I'm scared.

I'm two steps away from leaving behind this husbandry that has nurtured and fortified me with knowledge and skills, it being adequate or not is an entirely different matter, to last me a lifetime.

If a measure of our preparedness is the length of our lifespan, I'm sorry to say that I have nothing much to look forward to any longer.

I keep telling myself that everything will be fine and that I'll get past this phase safe and sound. If i fuck something up, don't worry. Opportunity is abundant enough for me to fuck up a million times more.

What i have failed to realise up till now is that i've went past my million not too long ago.

I am at the front of the queue now,
I am not ready for the slaughter.
I am fine where i am, two steps away.

I wished i could keep it like this. Like that.

Swooop.

Why I was late for my O Levels//

2008-11-14T23:03:00.000+08:00

I really don't think i want to grow up. Ever.

Cringe-worthy moments//

2008-11-14T02:34:00.000+08:00

I cannot believe i thought my new bass was an MIJ. The joys of underestimating. :)

Halfway isn't there yet//

2008-11-12T00:49:00.000+08:00

So I will run
Until my feet don't touch the ground
And as the waves carry me out
Keep listening
She'll never make a sound
So keep it coming and the details quiet
She's like the girl that keeps you up all night
And she'll be a secret you can keep
Keep me
Keep me//

I'd like to say that all is well and that we'll all get through this phase somehow. But i think it's safer to subtract one from "we". I should see the tragedy in this, but i simply can't, the dramatic irony shown is too lol-worthy to me. Haha!

How nice to know that I'll have the army to keep me busy from all the "what-ifs" and the "how-nows" that comes after screwing up major exams. I'll need this badly when it hits me.

Because i can't give up just yet//

2008-11-08T18:34:00.000+08:00

Vietnam fury at plan to ban small-chested motorcyclists

Published Date: 29 October 2008
By Vu Tien Hong
VIETNAM is considering banning small-chested motorcyclists from its roads – a proposal that has provoked widespread disbelief in a nation of slightly-built people.

The ministry of health has recommended that people whose chests measure less than 28in should be prohibited from riding motorcycles – as would those who are too short or too thin.

Motorbikes account for more than 90 per cent of the vehicles on Vietnam's chaotic roads, which are among the world's most dangerous.

The proposal is part of an exhaustive list of new criteria the ministry has come up with to ensure that Vietnam's drivers are in good health.

As news of the plan hit the media this week, Vietnamese expressed incredulity.

"It's ridiculous," said Tran Thi Phuong, 38, a Hanoi insurance agent. "It's absurd."

"The new proposals are very funny, but many Vietnamese people could become the victim of this joke," said Le Quang Minh, 31, a Hanoi stockbroker. "Many Vietnamese women have small chests. I have many friends who won't meet these criteria."

It was unclear how the ministry established its size guidelines or why it believes that small people make bad drivers. An official declined to comment.

The average Vietnamese man is 5ft 4in and weighs 121lb. The average Vietnamese woman is 5ft 1in tall and weighs 103lb.

Statistics on average chest size are unavailable.

The draft, which must be approved by the central government to become law, would also prohibit people from riding motorcycles if they suffer from anarray of health conditions such as enlarged livers or sinusitis. The rules would cover the vast majority of Vietnam's 20 million motorcycles. It would not apply to drivers of cars or lorries. Nearly 13,000 road deaths were recorded last year, and Vietnam has one of the world's highest rates per 100,000, according to the World Health Organisation. The majority of accidents involve motorbikes, which many workers in the nation of 85 million need to do their jobs.

When Nguyen Van Tai, a motorbike taxi driver, heard about the proposal, he immediately had his chest measured. Much to his relief, Mr Tai beat the chest limit by 3in.

"A lot of people in my home village are small," said Mr Tai, 46. "Many in my generation were poor and suffered from malnutrition. And now the ministry of health wants to stop us from driving to work."

Vietnamese bloggers have been poking fun at the plan, envisioning traffic police with tape measures eagerly pulling over female drivers to measure their chests.

"From now on, padded bras will be best-sellers," said Bo Cu Hung, a popular blogger in Ho Chi Minh City.

Newspapers were inundated with letters yesterday from concerned readers worried that they wouldn't measure up.

"I'm not heavy enough, what am I going to do?" Le Thu Huong asked in a letter to Tuoi Tre newspaper. "And what about people whose chests are small? Most of them are too poor to afford breast implants!"

//

Case study for the win.

If there's even one to feel//

2008-11-07T19:56:00.000+08:00

Amnesty would be nice//

2008-11-06T22:17:00.000+08:00

For somebody who cannot get to university, I'm actually taking it quite well. It's amusing to see the people around me writhe in faux disappointment though, because i've seen enough to know that they're really just being overly paranoid about not doing well. I should feel very horrible (even more than these "tourists", i know) but what i'm left with is just mild resignation. Nothing more.

It's criminal to be this nonchalant.

I'll sleep now.

The way it was before//

2008-11-05T01:05:00.001+08:00

Sixteen candles on a birthday cake.
Don't blow them out, let them burn all the way.
You gotta learn about your fate,
cause we're all going to melt someday.

I hear it when I crunch the leaves on the ground,
imagine it's me,
once green soon brown,
and the wind will howl,
but I won't make no sound.

After we pass through this circus,
after they have swept the floor,
it will all go back to the way it was before.

I keep myself distracted with a mirrored pen.
I store the words on paper instead of my head,
it's like a cold glass of milk when me and my stomach ache are stuck in bed.
What if all the crazys are really sane?
And they see something that the rest of us can't?
And they'll never feel the pain of having to fade away?

I'm fine being by myself.
I'm not wasting my wishes on women
when I'm throwing pennies down the well.
I'm fine being by myself.
I still got my tongue, don't I?
And a story to tell.

After we pass through this circus,
after they have swept the floor,
it will all go back to the way it was before.

It will all go back to the way it was before.

This side of alexithymia//

2008-10-24T20:44:00.000+08:00

You'd think that having parents who're both in the army and police force, they would be the least likely to get worked up when their only son is going to serve his national service. Both with their own stories to tell, it amused me greatly during dinner when they both reminisce and somehow end up squabbing over the right way to do a "hentak kaki" or whether the army "horse-kick" more than the police. Dad re-enacting the epic fails of his fellow NSFs and being mistaken for an NPCC cadet while doing guard duty and even saluting cadet officers, "just to be sure". And the hysterical laughters that follows. I've always admitted that i have the most silliest, nonsensical yet endearing parents and its moments like these that makes me appreciate them for who they are.

What's the point that i'm making? Well for one thing, it would hurt when i disappoint them during my A's. But what'll kill me is me not caring enough to do something about that.

I think that when that time comes, I would have failed as a son.

You are not the walrus.

2008-10-18T16:37:00.000+08:00

I live in sin when i'm living the good life. And right now, what i am is a really sinful boy. -sigh.

Just a little bit more.

Of emotional landscapes and G.A.S.//

2008-10-13T13:39:00.000+08:00

First post on my new notebook, yay! It's small and not what i'd consider Crysis-worthy, but all that will come in good time (and money). :)

I'm considering selling off my smaller bass amp since i've got an Ibanez amp coming in with my bass, quite possibly later this week. It would definitely lighten my financial burden and free up the dwindling space in my room.

I've also decided to sell off my Double Muff to pave way for a Monsterpiece NPN. The Double Muff was good and retained much of the low-end, but it's no Big Muff. Got to wait for a few weeks for the Monsterpiece though.

Raya outing with the Lit people was nice. Mind-boggling at times, but nice.

Okay, back to work.

Cordelia would be proud.

2008-10-11T01:04:00.001+08:00

What else is there to say that hasn't already been said?

I'm bad with my goodbyes, so I'll simply keep my sentiments to myself for fear that i may stop appreciating these memories if i ever express them in words. I'm going to get over them easier if i let my emotions out and I'd like to keep these emotions as a part of me just for a little bit longer.

That's as special as it gets for me.

Your friendly 07A01 SCum, signing off.

Not at least till i have to//

2008-10-06T20:24:00.000+08:00

Sunsets never were so bright
And the skies never so blue//

Before I go out on my own//

2008-10-04T20:38:00.001+08:00

Till now, i have yet to fully understand the magnitude of what i have done. What I am feeling now is a vast emptiness that I was only familiar with 45 months ago. More than 3 years of my life.

What should I feel?

The only thing that i feel now, apart from the immense guilt for my impulsive nature and impeccably bad timing, is this sense of fear. Fear for the unknown. I am not ready for this.

Who will ever know why I did what i did when I'm not too sure myself.

Syimah, if you happen to read this, i pray you find it somewhere deep within you to forgive me for the pain that i had inflicted upon you at any point during our relationship and even now. For better or for worse, what I have done, has already been done and I doubt we would ever come back to what we have been before. What we had spent with each other had been the best years of our lives and I'd never ever change those memories for anything short of my own. Maybe when I have sorted out my thoughts, I'll take it upon myself to explain my actions because it's the very least that I can give back to you.

I know i will live to regret ever breaking us apart. Not many can ever experience how perfect we were meant for each other. Too perfect, maybe. But nevertheless, do remember that what we are left with is the future.

We both have long lives to look forward to and knowing you, I'm very confident that yours will be one that can only spell success. I hope and pray that what had happened to us won't affect your endeavours and on the contrary drive you towards attaining your goals. Know that I would do the same.

So here's to a future where we'll hopefully cross paths again. Olivejuice always// :)

Now, I begin the reconstruction of me without you.

What have i done?

Farewell assembly//

2008-10-02T18:55:00.000+08:00

I'm a week away from saying goodbye to all my unfulfilled schoolboy fantasies. All of them.

God, I don't know how I'll ever cope.

How to make my toes curl//

2008-10-01T00:35:00.000+08:00

Just like last year, my (lack of) enthusiasm for the festivities just got the better of me and what I'm left with now is a growing resentment for these things ,which I know, is socially unacceptable. But I'm only being me, aren't I?

Prelims was the bomb. As in, I bombed it.

So this post is dedicated to my starting from scratch all over again, for the last time.

They say that history is there for you to learn from your mistakes. From what I've seen however, history is there to tell you that there is no running from your mistakes. The inevitable nature of this given state would thus leave me questioning whether what I've been doing all along had really been mistakes and not just the product of my dispositions.

Regardless, what I am now is a hen digging for worms. Big, juicy and altogether luscious worms.

Olivejuice//

Because we share the same sentiments//

2008-09-26T01:18:00.000+08:00

And we splash too much paint over the cracks.

I'm a fountain of blood//

2008-09-23T22:02:00.000+08:00

I am leaving this harbour
Giving urban a farewell
Its habitants seem to keen on God
I cannot stomach their rights and wrongs

I have lost my origin
And I don't want to find it again
Whether sailing into nature's laws
And be held by ocean's paws

Wanderlust! relentlessly craving
Wanderlust! peel off the layers
Until we get to the core

Did I imagine it would be like this?
Was it something like this I wished for?
Or will I want more?

Lust for comfort
Suffocates the soul
Relentless restlessness
Liberates me (sets me free)

I feel at home
Whenever the unknown surrounds me
I receive its embrace
Aboard my floating house

Wanderlust! relentlessly craving
Wanderlust! peel off the layers
Until we get to the core

Did I imagine it would be like this?
Was it something like this I wished for?
Or will I want more?

Wanderlust! from island to island
Wanderlust! united in movement
Wonderful! I'm joined with you

Wanderlust!

Can you spot a pattern?

Chew on this, Boey.

Because I'm so dead if she finds out//

2008-09-23T19:42:00.000+08:00

Go ahead, press it.

A case of creature comforts//

2008-09-20T01:15:00.000+08:00

Waking up from the ultimate Freudian nightmare can be very disorientating. Strangely enough, I hate how it makes me feel mortal all over again. The same way exams do.

I need to go for a walk along the canal now.

Edit:
You know, It's not hard to understand why nobody likes a cynic. Doesn't really take much of a genius, does it? We've got our perfectly constructed world going for us (amidst the occasionally frequent subliminal mindfucks and all-around messed up anti-culture) and we really don't need this wet blanket to tell us, "Hey you're stupid for not acknowledging that life's fucked up."

But that's the very thing that cynics don't understand, you see.

For the most part, people do know that they're fucked. Just look at us. Who cares about inflation and low fertility rates? It's quite clear that what we are now are a bunch of second-generation Orientalists. We're the harbingers of decadence to this iGeneration. We're Hollywood's unwanted pregnancy.

People know, that's why they don't want to talk about it. Because they want to move on. Because they're already holding on nervously to their punch cards and eagerly waiting to sign out. Or they try to make do. Whatever it is, nobody needs someone to tell them the obvious again and again.

Whatever it is, cynics need to wake up and smell the coffee.

As if the pill wasn't bitter enough already, huh?

Olivejuice//

When all you're fighting is temptation//

2008-09-17T20:24:00.001+08:00

Got. To. Stay. Away. From. Boutique. Pedals. No. Money.

Oh dear.

Simple delights//

2008-09-16T20:52:00.000+08:00

I like how my new phone vibrates under my touch, it's like I'm pressing a real keypad, only it's not a real keypad. Amazing right? The vibration's so delicate and tasteful, it just makes me squeal in utter pleasure. And it's got a 3.5mm jack. Eat that, Sony.

Shush, geog.

Olivejuicex//

Somebody say bigot//

2008-09-15T21:46:00.000+08:00

Because Sony Ericsson's being an utter pain for voiding my warranty and they can't seem to understand the wonders of a direct 3.5mm jack output.

Should be fun.

Olivejuice//

If there's a price for rotten judgement//

2008-09-14T23:01:00.000+08:00

I swear, i really do hate getting my hair cut. Bah.

You know, I wouldn't mind the whole idea of living in a Disney town. It's like A Brave New World + Peter Pan. If anything, I'll relish the opportunity to be naive without consequence and feeling a strong sense of security (regardless of it being false) within an enclosed community that is largely untouched by the cruel and evil world that is this. I'd rather trap myself in this corporate enclave than in the one i'm already trapped in. -sigh.

K, hi Elizabeth Bennet.