I'd like to think of this as an experience. Really, there isn't much worth dying for besides at the very moment you feel like dying.
Been couped up at the office for the last 2 weeks. No excitement, drama, or energies - just pure adrenaline. [LINE] So gawd darn guilty about keeping quiet lately. Many many things that I want to let out, I just kinda stash it at the back of my head. I think about them, these things, but seriously not the slightest bit of interest to let them out. Instead, its just that - thoughts.
Do you believe in destiny?
I do. It's like a projection of what we all eventually become, just that many times what we would like to be at the end of the ride doesn't quite tally with what we are at the end of it all.
"I am speechless and I think that it has been my fortune to have your affection all this while."
Destiny. The evolution of sickness, worries and problems. :wink:
I need a bedtime story. Won't get one, so gonna need to think of one.
[LINE]
Last night could've been special, but I guess it's gotta be one of those give and take situations. And then you come home feeling upset over what's not supposed to be, start writing useless punters, sulk, suck thumb, and try to move on.
Maybe "special" isn't quite the right way to describe it.
A holographic display of the surrounding buildings were nauseating. Closed my eyes for a moment before another heat wave seeped through me. Walking down a crowded street alone got me thinking, and missing many things, people, and places.
I was on a bus back to the airport during sunset. The TV was on playing some silly comedy in a foreign language I never understood.
We passed by many fields of green shadowed by the surrounding mountains. The sun burned a dull red that evening, and it wasn't even six yet.
As the bus continued, I thought about home. I missed home. The feeling of the heart wrenching and yearning was lesser then - I was heading back there. And it didn't take too long to get back at the beautiful serenity whizzing by.
That's just how it felt last night. Just felt like describing it, though it wasn't anything fantastic. Appreciating myself perhaps. :wink:
Given the grand choice of moving stuff from Point A to B by someone else (Professional of course), I'll definitely go for it if I have the cash to splurge. Such is the luxury to have someone to move stuff from 2 floors down at Point A, load 'em up, then climb 4 storeys at Point B.
Coming back, emotions are flying all over the place. I'm happy one min, serious the next, and even bothered at others. If there were some graphs plotted for the emotional patterns within a day, it would be a seismograph chart.
Whatever it may be, I'm definitely looking forward to Monday!
:wink:
I'm beginning to feel a change in a lot of my own ways. There seems to be a mental shift of interests in things - things that meant a lot before but now replaced with new priorities?
Crudely, the whole ordeal eats in a little everyday, making me disbelief in my beliefs.
I no longer get the youthful vibes. Something is wrong. I'm not even excited about collaborations, exchanges, and even teachings. New projects and proposals are like a chore. It's as good as having to do the dishes for a family of 10.
Then there's breathlessness in coping with external ideals. I try. And I mean I really try, but somehow, I know there's a problem with an idea, but I just don't know how to correct it anymore. Not that I can't see the solution, but I just don't know how to put it, both in a friendly and diplomatic way. It then creates a vacuum where my own suggestions or comments become kept secrets.
And I can't bear to see things screw up. Yet, I let them. It's like sliding down a big water slide with no breaks or safety ropes. You jump in, you slide, you can't stop, and you keep going till you hit the water below. You won't know if there are things in between, or any obstacles at the end. You just keep going till the whole thing is over.
That's extremely vicious isn't it? And we put ourselves through it everyday.
Truncation seems to be second nature these days. For me, it doesn't quite matter what goes in-between, but what's important now is it happens, and making sure something comes out of it, whatever it may be.
If anyone is reading this, tell me this: What is the balance between what you think and how you feel? Meaning, if a favourite glass is broken, how should we strike a balance between thinking and feeling bad about it?
At sixteen, I immersed in a world of discovery. Eighteen saw maturity, twenty-one rediscovery, and finally at present a standstill. Should there be a mental test of endurance over societal norms, then I will most likely end up behind the witness stand thinking about the ordeal more than explaining myself to get out of the whole thing.
Let's share our ideas for a moment: One man meets another, they become good friends, they end up liking the same woman. All 3 are strangers to begin with. How do you decide what's best for them? Another quirk: One woman walks into a store, finds a 50 dollars bill on the floor, picks it up, gets caught by security for theft. How would you simplify this complication?
I was on the way home today, saw a little girl about 2 years old, running behind a man, squealing in delight. The man occasionally turned round to make sure she's okay. She spotted me walking a distance away, smiled at me with big eyes and rosy cheeks, then squealed again.
It melted me. Yes, she exemplified innocence. But who's next to flash me that sort of smile without obligations or intents? The same thing's gonna happen to you. :wink:
It's been many days when the sun scorched our little island like some vengeful barbarian. Passing rain came and went, hardly enough for all of us to cool down.
Well, naturally. That's why they call it passing rain.
Anyways, was sweating profusely when I stepped out the train at Little India, trying to make my way to Sim Lim Square for a collection. Wasn't a really great ride except that a lady tried to vie for a seat with me. I never really fought for it, I could just see the hunger in her eyes, regardless of how pretty she can be. It's so silly to do that.
So I got to where I wanted to go, said hi with my brightest smile and best behaviour and all, then got ready to leave. Reaching the cab stand, I ran into a friend.
Okay, not exactly a friend, more like a business acquaintance.
Said hi and all, gave me his card, and then bye. When I hop into a cab, I thought it was silly not to give him mine.
[LINE]
I think I'm kinda lost in my own thoughts here for a moment.
Been multitasking too many things. Maybe more tomorrow. :wink:
As more things come round, I got much more transparency. Spending time with Joshua and Wayne has pushed more truths kindly into me more than deception. I like that! :wink:
Many many years ago, I knew I wasn't one of those boyish faced, dimpled smiled and puppie eyed kids.
It hurt a lot when I knew I wasn't gonna be swamped by the girls, nor envied by the guys. I felt I never had talents, skills, nor anything unique. I felt so abnormal being me, much like a tree in the middle of nowhere, practically out of touch from the real world and how it functioned.
All in the past tense, yes. I was, and never will be. That was how awful it felt.
Being asian has all the wins and woes. Success was in itself a failure to attain just the reward and not the big prize. I went with the flow, and the flow swept me further and further away. I began to lose myself.
So academic excellence was a goal. Afterall, what's there to look forward to? Nobody gives me a second look, and my words were dull. Chatting with me was a chore, and going out together was obligatory in its entirety.
Then came a time when conflict of religion got to me. I was asianly asian, but I studied in a westernly religious school. It was a daily struggle to be in a place I couldn't believe in, simply cos it ain't what I believed in. So I had to choose. I dropped academic achievements in exchange for self-expression in technical art. It didn't work out at the end of all the semesters cos I lost myself within.
It was like walking in a place you're exploring for something else in another place.
I reached out for help that never came. Fact is, as a teen, a cry for help usually ends with an act of rebellion or self-pity. i went there. And never looked back. It felt great to wallow cos any little excitement became big. It became very big. So I walked further and harder to see where it might end.
Joining the corps wasn't such a bad idea then. I earned a rank and had free food, clothes, and lodging. I hardly saw my folks and felt good away from all that nagging. Yes, it felt nauseating buried in discipline and regiment, but I could earn control.
Down from Eagle Hill one night, we made camp and got ready for a moment's rest. Yes, it was a story I've repeated many times, but I just have to write it again.
The boys got as comfortable as possible in the freezing cold and I finally made my way back to the Tent. Eric was the next in line for a promotion within the Quatermasters, and we got along pretty well cos we were in camp twice as often as the rest.
He brought me coffee. It was the last mug from the stock he delivered from Base. And he gave it to me. I was really touched. He never really made many friends within the Unit, and I certainly wasn't a big brother to him. I was just a friend who never kept asking him for stuff like the rest. They would see him, and somehow, just ask for something. I needed really few things, there was nothing much I need at all then, except company.
We spoke a little. Small talk, nothing much. Then he started to pack with his boys. I think I did say good night or something, for I never felt the guilt.
I remember skipping the rest of the supper and the night with the rest and just jumped into my hammock. I was tired, but just barely insomniac. Couldn't quite remember for how long, but I fell asleep and was rudely awoken by my superior.
Those with ranks assembled at the main Tent for an emergency meeting that night. I remembered dense clouds hung low, and the chill was biting. My eyes were really blurred with my contacts on, and the mist didn't help.
The big man finally appeared after all of us got there and waited close to 15 minutes. Ain't that always the case? And he broke the news.
Eric's truck crashed into a house. The driver escaped unhurt, but ran to avoid the cell. One of Eric's boys suffered minor head injuries, but Eric himself was pronounced brain dead a couple of hours after the accident.
My unit mech guys saw the truck. The news was devastating, much like the truck.
This, for your info, is for real.
We had to move on while they sent his body back home. My colleagues back here walked him for his last journey. I could not. And I lived with that regret for a long time.
I never saw his urn, and I never paid my last respects.
When I returned home, I was feeling really heavy on the inside. It took me 2 days to muster enough courage to walk up to his superior, to apologise - I had promised to look after Eric on this trip as it was his first overseas assignment as well as a confirmation for his promotion. I had failed.
I remember the old man looking at me with swollen eyes. He held my shoulder and squeezed it hard, and told me firmly that it wasn't my fault and that I should let go.
Would you?
Could you?
Had I?
Will I?
My whole perspective of life changed afterwards. It was no longer about being here and now. It became going there and then. Time runs out as soon as you begin to start treasuring it. It felt horrible.
Many years after, I had a dream about Eric. Maybe I made it up in my mind, and maybe I didn't. He smiled.
Yes, the state says he died an honorable death, the guys praised his courage and grace, the boys saluted his care and contributions.
Been seriously bored over the weekend. Purposefully marking it out to chill out but turned out really uneventful. What attributed to all that was a serious lack of ties.
And the humid weather isn't helping much. With that, the A series.
I think I'm pretty much blocked in the brain. Been cracking my head non-stop over the little secret project. Things are moving, albeit a little slow, but its moving.
Just so that I would remember how it felt like, it feels good to be challenging myself against so many odds to the extent "calculated risk" has become a status quo.
It probably feels a little weird, but having things falling into place bit by bit right in front of you is beyond imagination. :wink:
Emailing is really getting out of hand. I've been sitting here since 3am just typing replies and updates. Haven't got time to even piss or do any other work. Maybe I'm just a little too careful with what I send out to people?
Blogs are great! They divert your attention without causing any harm whatsoever to your mental well-being.
I think I just need more hours stacked up. Less sleep, more work, squeeze play.
Just when you think it's working, it creates a whole system of failures. Yes! Instead of just screwing up, it creates an entire network of disaster!
Okay, was intending to describe the incident, but I guess that's gonna be a little dry for tonight.
[LINE]
I was strolling in the park feeling a little lonely. Angel's out of town and I wasn't really in the mood to party or park at the cafe. The distant traffic seriously irritated me, so I kinda strolled towards the fountain smack center in the entire park.
It wasn't anything special, just a little spout of water that didn't go very high amidst tropical fauna. Some kids were splashing the water by the side under the watchful eyes of their folks. Or it seemed. A couple whizzed past me on their mountain bikes chattering and completely drenched in laughter. I thought I saw a group of bladers further down the path.
There was this slight hint of cocoa in the air. Not too surprised really as the factory was a couple streets off. It smelled nice, and it sort of salivated me.
The walk wasn't really bad. Relaxed me rather quickly with the surrounding serenity. I almost wished there was a slight drizzle to cool the hot sun a little. Then, it started to pour.
That's tropical weather for you.
I dashed into the closest shelter with an old man napping across the bench. He was a little disturbed by my loud steps more than the rain spraying in, but he did manage a warm smile before shifting to a less rain-susceptible spot.
Sweeping my hair a little and trying as best as I could to slap all the rain pellets off my shirt, the old man chuckled. It wasn't sarcastic nor mocking, I guess he found us trapped quite helplessly in the middle of the park.
It kinda tickled me as well - a nice afternoon walk can't get any worse than this. But it did.
Soon the couple on bikes turned back and parked right in. The children and their folks by the fountain started running towards the shelter as well, for they must have thought the car park was not that far. I saw them turn round.
Okay. So I was like... okay. It wasn't as boring, but it wasn't exactly a blessing. Then the worst impossible thing happened - the group of bladers were dashing towards us.
And I was like... okay! The shelter wasn't that small, but with the increasing intensity, the rain was really coming in from all sides. And to have more than 20 people in a space less than 4 toilet cubicles, it was miserable!
I got pushed to the edge of the shelter and it was soon getting as good as walking back in the rain. Then the old man chuckled again. Okay. I was pissed.
As soon as it came, the rain went. It didn't last more than 5 minutes I think. Passing showers at its best! The couple couldn't get their bikes out, and the kids were screaming in excitement over some toads. The bladers were definitely in a nasty busy chatter as they slowly thronged out the shelter, with one actually slipping on the brick path, kicking up major laughter within the group. The kids parents then ushered the kids along towards the carpark, and the bikers soon followed. I looked at my own plight and was like...okay...
The old man softened his position with his bag as pillow and continued his nap. It was only 4 o'clock.
Going home wasn't a good idea now. Drenched with no extra Ts would really be depressing. So wise-ole-me decided to just keep strolling. Not a few minutes after, the rain came back. I rushed back to the same shelter and the old man chuckled again.
This time, everyone else didn't turn back. And the old dude was sure getting on my nerves. I decided to dash for it, made it to the car park, hopped into the car and started the engines. Looking into the rear mirror, I saw the old man kinda like waving at me. I thought "okay...he's nuts", and started fishing out my belongings in my pockets before they get wet.
Okay. Now I know why he waved. My wallet's back at the shelter. :wink:
From top left: On the train to the airport by myself; On the way up to the Departure Hall; Joshua, Angel, Myself; Kevin, Angel, Myself, Eric - notice Kevin's weird pose? No? Must be me then; Us; Train trip back to town - notice the weird thing Eric got to bend his head to the side so as not to knock into the handles - Joshua just stands comfortably under them.
;)
Did I use that title before? Anycase, been pretty taxed over my little secret project days-on-end. For something which I'm trying to do to help many others, I began to see how very few were willing to help me. The more I try, the more I see that money plays a really big role in making things work.
Now, think about this, you give a beggar a dollar thinking it'll help get him off the street. Then the next day, you see him there, you give another dollar. Soon, you see him sitting helplessly in that little dirty corner waiting for your dollar every other day. Did it help? It didn't for you, but it sure taught him where to make his money.
Poor analogy, maybe. Then again, what's the whole point.
Was chilling out earlier with Eric and Joshua. Just thought it would add more live to the page! ;)
That's how my head felt last night, which explains why I haven't really been writing.
So Friday night, Joshua and myself needed to thrash it out and talk, got into this place called "de Club", and chatted over 2 jugs of Vodka Lime. The temperature got so low, both of us were practically freezing inside (we were the only customers). We got out feeling a little high and jumped right into the next club across the street. The music was great so we ordered yet another jug of B-Coke. Then we ran into our hair stylist, had some weird shots, and got yet another jug of Whiskey-something.
There were plenty of drinks to go around, but by then, both of us were higher than where we could put our asses. I tried to induce vomit so that I could clear my stomache, but very little came out. So I took a walk for some fresh air - all the way to Maxwell market from Tanjong Pagar stumbling on my own footsteps.
Then I felt completely sick - so short of breadth (think I got some kinda asthmatic attack) - and sat in one of the public toilet stalls for close to an hour I think. All the while I threw up, till Joshua finally called and asked if I was okay. I was not, struggled back to the pub real slow.
Halfway back I think I collasped. The next thing I knew, I was answering my phone face up on the floor! Now that's something I've never ever done before so spontaneously!
Joshua called and asked if I was coming back, I said "yeah", stood up, and threw up again. By the time I got back, I think our stylist was high too! He said I should improve, to which I said "sorry", and Joshua added "yeah, (and something really irrelevant but I couldn't remember". So the 3 of us were like trying to say something sane each, but we appeared completely insane. I just felt the stares from all around - and why not, 3 clowns clowning right in the middle of the road before the pub - we had to go.
It was a road that no cab would normally drive in, but we just had to wait for a cab there. Took us 5 minutes to decide to walk to the main road for one.
And we got one. I went flat, like some blob of sludge in the back seat. Joshua said he was high, but in the cab he joked with the cabby non-stop, and I was like... okaay..
The cabby was practically laughing at my plight, and Joshua apologised profusely to him (whatever for?!). Then I put up my hand and whispered, "Stop the cab..." The cabby was so shocked he kept pleading with me, "WAIT! WAIT!" I mean, how was anyone to stop himself from puking? What? Puke with the mouth shut and keep it there?
He went berserk, then stopped along the road to which I got off but nothing came out. Continued the journey to wound down windows and cigarettes (I was like...huh?!).
So we reached my place, Joshua offered to help me upstairs, and got the cabby to wait for him - after agreeing to pay him tibs for waiting - SCUM.
On the way up in the lift, I breathlessly told Joshua that my keys were in my bag. He dug for it, and kept asking if I was okay. As we reach the doorstep, I began taking off my boots with him struggling to aim the key into the keyhole. After the gate, I took over and aimed for the main door. Then it happened.
He puked right at my doorstep! I turned around to see a huge pool of crap in WHITE!
I stepped back, he just carried on. Wave, after, wave.
I was like, "Are you okay?!" And he was like, "*burp* *vomit* *cough*" I swayed back downstairs to the cabby, handed him 10 bucks, grabbed Joshua's bag back upstairs again. The cabby was, of course, laughing his head off when he heard the other guy was puking upstairs.
On the way up, I heard vomitting again. Dashed right in for a big pail of water to flush the crap away as I sent him in for a warm glass of water. I poured the water from the side and the inevitable happened - I stepped right onto the pool of diluted vomit barefoot. Okay, seriously, it wasn't so bad.
I went back in to get more water, then I saw Joshua leaning against the kitchen wall half-alive - and he actually said, "hey man, sorry, are you okay?" <--- WHAT IRONY!> Struggled back out, flushed and swept all of that away, locked the door, went straight to my room, demanded a glass of water from the poor boy, took off my wet jeans, opened the bed, and literally slammed onto it. He came back in, asked me if I wanted the water, I said to leave it on the table, he asked if I was sure, I said yes, he said okay, then asked if I was okay, told him yeah, he changed down to shorts, slammed onto the bed, and the next thing we both knew, it was Saturday morning.
[LINE]
He rushed back home round 7 yesterday morning to prepare his notes for the afternoon's meeting. I woke round 9 plus - I had to rush for my meeting at ten myself. The room stank really bad.
After all that, we met around 9 plus again at night for our meeting - I asked him if he remembered anything, he just laughed and said "NO", firmly.
:wink:
[LINE]
Okay, so I'm a sucker for depression, and an idiot at alcohol-control.
I'd like to think of this as an experience. Really, there isn't much worth dying for besides at the very moment you feel like dying.
