Nonsensical images and incoherent ramblings

2012

2012-01-02T03:49:00.013+08:00

ALTHOUGH the challenges I faced in 2010 drilled some newfound strength into my soul, they also made me a cynic—calculative, disdainful and cautious not to be caught up in any fabrications of human warmth, faith and hopefulness. Gone was the magic of giving in Christmas, and along with it the optimism of welcoming a new year with fresh hopes and aspirations. I was the Grinch who stole my own Christmas.

Thus, while everyone else was posting well wishes and hopes for 2011, I posted an update that read: “New year, same old shit”. I later removed that post as it contradicted with my resolution to never ever whine again. But the feelings of lacklustre remained.

“I have time on my side, making diamonds from coal”

I took the time to fix the boat I was in. I replaced the torn mainsails with a bulletproof sheet. I crafted the hull out of steel, and erected a mast so sturdy no storm could break. And when I was done I pointed the tiller to the direction of tranquil waters. And for a while, it felt complete.

Little did I know that the constant I deliberately left out of the equation was essential to finding the complete solution.

“She put a hole through my Kevlar soul"

I met you in June, and in a short period of six months, you changed my life. It was unbelievable how you provided me with pieces of the puzzle I thought was already complete. And as time went by you uncovered more missing fragments, which you promptly filled with your magic.

“Vad vore jag... Utan dina andetag?”

2011 ended worlds apart from 2010. As we watched the fireworks die down and the parties disperse from our television set, I felt my sailboat rock a little. I checked the boat and it was as sturdy as ever. I looked to direction of the swaying—and I see you, smiling as you climb aboard from your ship to be my seafaring companion.

Brown tabby cat

2011-10-04T23:51:00.024+08:00

IT’S Thursday night, and I’m staying back. Slacked a bit too much yesterday, damn those video games I play. Gotta rush this manuscript for submission tomorrow. Good thing they’re paying for my dinner and cab fare home.
10:30. Today is exfoliation day. Shucks, I notice more lines around the eyes. Gotta go get that line-reducing series.
11:00. Texting her. Looking forward to the weekend when I can meet her. Goodnight world!

Friday morning, 6:45. Rise and shine. Early bird catches the worm. No worms for me, just the usual wake-up protein shake.
7:30. Raining heavily. Damn it, IRIS is lying again. 5 minutes turned into 15 minutes in the blink of an eye. Boy am I going to be late for work.
7:50. Bus is late as usual. The Animated Man is in his usual seat (I call him that as he talks to himself very animatedly. Yes, I’ve checked: no headset.). I got on a seat in front of him. The combination of his voice, my drenched clothes and soggy shoes makes it impossible to fall asleep. Maybe I should call him Violently Animated Man. Bus gets extremely packed after Buangkok as usual. Come on, doubledeck this bus already.
8:45. Yup, late for work, get down quick. Almost crushed the resident brown tabby cat in my morning stupor. He scurries away just in time and glares at me with those wide, fierce eyes—a stark difference from the relaxed gaze I am so familiar with. Well, sorry dude.
9:15. Second breakfast. Then more editing. More meeting with prepress designers. Running around between the first and third floor.
12:30. Lunch. Today’s topic: that lady who drowned at the reservoir.
1:30. Back to work, more meetings. If we put this textbox in this page, would it be better? How does that picture look with the text wrapped around it like this? Busy busy busy.
6:30. Off to meet Terence. Frog leg porridge and beer thereafter. Awesome.
11:30. Facial mask day today. Love that rare earth masque from Kiehl's.

Saturday. Gym in the morning, chest day. Damn it, some people should really go learn some gym ethics or face banishment.
Meeting her in the afternoon. Long John Silver’s, airport, Starbucks, books, maths, Japanese pasta, looking at airplanes: best times of the week! No more details. For us to know and for you to find out.

Sunday. 45 minute run. Then rest: idle wanton slacking. Lunching with the family. Deus Ex Human Revolution until 2 a.m., Kahlua. Oh dear, I’m so gonna pay for this in the morning.

Monday, 7:15. Back to work. IRIS is honest and obedient today. Animated Man is not in the bus. Bus packed like sardines as usual. Fast forward to the workplace, a little early today. Brown tabby cat is sprawled at his usual place, bravely risking his life to be some unobservant person’s shoe mat, all the while looking indifferent and cool.

***

I crouched beside the brown tabby cat and ran my fingers across the back of his neck. He relaxed further and his eyes narrowed to a slit. I told him: look at you, sitting here all day everyday. You don’t know what life is, dude.

He looked in my direction and widened his eyes a little, as if hesitating to respond to my words. And then, apathetically, he narrowed his eyes and lowered his head to continue his nap.

The scientist

2011-06-15T00:03:00.008+08:00

MORE often than not, when bad times force their way into our lives, we were able to pinpoint exactly what and how it all went wrong . We were able to see, in real-time, the root of our predicaments as we take that plummet into our own personal purgatories. And in our impatience to seek relief from the pain, we end up employing multiple remedies at once—consulting all kinds of witch doctors and faith healers just to get things running in the right direction—so much so that when the healing processes finally commence, we end up with nagging questions: What exactly was it that triggered our recovery? Was this panacea attributable to one particular effort or incident, or was it brewed from a combination of different circumstances, occasions and flukes?

Many of us, in our desperation for the cure, ignore the elementary scientific methods we were taught in our early childhood: making one change at a time, ceteris paribus, to determine the efficacy of that particular change.

Perhaps most of us, especially myself, are not fit to be true scientists—the rest of us who just want to survive.

An absentee returns

2011-06-06T01:45:00.004+08:00

IT was the type of feeling I will forever try in vain to find the right words to describe. That tingle you feel when you know things are going on the right track. The gratification of having an unexpected turn of events chance into a perfect outcome. The rush that leaves you beaming with a wide grin. The feelings of anticipation, excitement, unease; feelings of plain, wanton contentment.

Just when I thought it had eluded me forever, it returned at the most unexpected of times, in the most pleasant manner possible.

Jump in with both feet

2011-04-20T01:19:00.002+08:00

WHEN push comes to shove, perhaps it is time to go. It is time to take a leap of faith.

No more half measures. Time to jump in with both feet.

Happy birthday!

2011-04-16T18:07:00.005+08:00

HAPPY Birthday Mel!

I'll always miss you.

How strange, innocence

2011-03-04T00:31:00.008+08:00

WHEN you make a young child smile, you'll find that somehow, that smile rubs off onto you. In that split second all your fears, insecurities and mindfulness dissolve, consumed by the gentle yet resolute optimism of innocence. With those selfless, naivete little indicators of their joy, you are lifted from the harsh, cold reality into a tranquil, serene abode.

From those glistening eyes and that tiny little smile you can see the future.

Rat bastard. Despicable cur. Putrid vermin.

2010-12-26T07:56:00.000+08:00

I hate myself for doing this.

But I'm no Jesus, I'm no tragic hero.

I won't take it back.

I'm so very sorry.

Fiction.

2010-07-23T04:57:00.011+08:00

THE watch that she bought for me—It was showing 4 a.m. now. But I still could not sleep. I reached across the table from my bed, over that blue stuffed toy she won but dared not bring home, to the desk lamp and turned it on. The yellow light elucidated her in my room, in so many forms and facets. She was there, on the dresser, in that tube of moisturizer she had bought for me. She was in my closet, weaved and pressed into those shirts she said would look good on me. She was in that strand of hair she left on my pillow. She was the wick in that Zippo she bought me, burning for me. She was the strings on the guitar she bought for me, singing me that tune I made for her.

The room still smelt of her, a faint reminder from her perfume that rubbed on to me when we had our last, final hug.

I reached under the lamp for my spectacles, and I touched her hands that once held them for me while I washed my face. I took my phone, and I could still see her fingers move across the screen, playing a game.

I looked at our pictures one by one and wondered, at what point did that disarming smile become insincere? I read those messages again and again, and again. I failed for the umpteenth time to grasp how those lovey dovey messages we left for each other turned into heated exchanges.

But none of this is real. You are not in my room. You are not in my soul. You are not in my life anymore because you chose to leave.

What is real is that tomorrow there would be no messages waiting for me to read. No wake up call, no goodnight kisses. What is real is that tomorrow, while I sleep in and as the sun rises over the sky, the world moves on. The cogs that move the machines of society will still turn, the winds will continue to blow and the rain will continue to fall. Poverty and war would not go away, and famine and disease will still claim their victims.

And my life should go on. My heart should pump new blood, now devoid of your sweetness, acting from electrical impulses coming from my brain harbouring thoughts devoid of your camaraderie. But maybe it’s not that simple.

Power plays

2009-01-23T00:15:00.017+08:00

LET'S begin this post with a parable.

Lets say in ancient Rome, there was a race to the death involving 4 parties, A to D—whoever wins gets his life spared. Lets say that A's capability in racing was the best, but the emperor was wary of him since he was somewhat a hero amongst the people. B was the emperor's favourite, although he was mediocre at best in racing. The rest were nobodies—just fillers. Naturally, the bets were placed mostly on A and B.

Soon, the horn to start the race was blown. As the race proceeded, A turned out to be first and B was second. Nobody cared to take note whether C or D finished last. The emperor accused A for cheating and disqualified him. Hearing this, the people who bet on B rejoiced. But alas, the emperor announced C and D as the joint winners. And since the rules, according to the emperor, stated that only one could be left to alive—letting C or D live over the other would be unfair. So in the end, A-D were all executed. And since no racer lived in the end, nobody really won, so everyone who placed bets lost their money.

WTF?

I guess these are games that people in power play. Just to show that they can do anything without any rhyme or reason other than because they can. To be able to do something that makes no sense at all to anyone, screwing half the people, and leaving the rest confused and perplexed. Something so obviously wrong that everyone can see, talk about, comment, complain and debate until the cows come home—but in the end nothing can be done to change it. And then proceed to take another weird shit. And rinse, and repeat.

Through the looking glass

2009-01-13T12:56:00.009+08:00

I quote Lewis Carroll:
__________________________________________________________________________________

‘When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.’

‘The question is,’ said Alice, ‘whether you can make words mean so many different things.’
__________________________________________________________________________________

What the hell is wrong with these people?

2008-12-23T23:26:00.006+08:00

IN light of all the mud-slinging, name-calling and scandal-planting, you'd have to think, 'have they had enough?'

And the short answer is, no.

They have decided to shame the nation even more by reminding everyone what ignorant fools we have as our representatives.

Following in Indonesia's footsteps (link), Malaysian ministers has decided to introduce their own version of bigotry and intolerance (link).

The hell? This made me sick.

And this is why at times I'd like to dissociate myself with this dumbass country, which has dumbass people voting for dumbass jokers as dumbass politicians who pass dumbass laws. And then call each other sodomizers.

Pinch me

2008-12-14T03:15:00.009+08:00

I haven't heard this song for a while now. But it has come back to my playlist recently.

I understand the lyrics completely now that I can relate to them.

Music has a mysterious power of amplifying whatever you are feeling... even if it is nothingness that you feel.

The invisible man

2008-11-23T01:54:00.003+08:00

HONG Lee is not dead.
I’m merely becoming more… invisible.
It’s not that I blame anyone or any group of people who choose to alienate me.
No, I have only myself to blame.
My inability to keep up with everyone that I’ve hoped to keep in touch with. My failure in scheduling everyone into my daybook. My powerlessness in maintaining relations. My lack of charisma.
SO, I’m sorry. I really am.

Dead.

2008-04-09T06:28:00.005+08:00

I'VE not slept for 27 hours.
I drink coffee instead of tea.
More than 80% of my clothes are in the laundry bag.
I could fall asleep without first taking a shower nowadays.

but

I've finished my thesis¹

¹ Subject to change.

Deflation

2008-03-26T02:17:00.009+08:00

OK, so I'm supposed to be rushing my thesis furiously by now. That was what I really intended to do tonight but it was not to be. Just as I had settled myself in a seminar room alone, coffee made, air-conditioning set to a comfortable temperature, tables wiped clean and data sheets aligned perfectly for maximum efficiency to reference - there came the security woman, chasing me out of the room. Apparently I was not supposed to study in the seminar room after twelve. And she was to take down my particulars for her boss.

Pissed, I asked her, "So, we're not even allowed to study!?" And she was kind enough to explain that it's not her call. She was the one who had to run around the hall, chasing people out, getting students pissed, getting her bosses pissed when students disobey and somehow find themselves back in the room after she's gone. And she'd probably be pissed when she finds out I gave her fake details. Anyway, it all boils down to electricity bills, she says. And she would be the one who will get the sack when bills keep increasing like she's not doing her job. Which she really is right now by ousting me from the room. It's not like she wants me to get out. She'd like it very much if students can have a comfortable environment to study, she says, but her bosses are the one making the decision. She's just the face of the decision. She doesn't like her job, I can tell.

And I thought, what a shitty job. She should be earning millions. But she's probably not.

Isn't the university earning enough to cover electricity bills? What about the (almost) yearly increase in fees? Isn't covering costs one of the reasons for this? What about those hallways in those faculty offices that are air-conditioned all day long when all the professors go back by 6pm? Is there an upper limit to what the university wants to capitalize?

And while people who do not understand the situation (like me initially) throw curses and expletives at her behind her back, the president is swimming in his vault full of platinum coins.

So this is how the situation is for the not-so-hot candidate for jobs. You will have to work for long and odd hours. You will have people pissed at you from every angle for policies you didn't make. You will have to go against your personal wishes to enforce something you don't believe in. Rich corporations will use you as the face of their money-grubbing ideals. And you will probably have a shitty pay.

It's not like she's illiterate or any less capable or intelligent. She's an educated person who speaks fluent English and probably had some extent of academic qualification.

And this makes me think. Maybe in ten years, maybe five—at the rate everyone is getting overqualified for jobs nowadays, perhaps my bachelor's degree would get so deflated that I'd find myself in similar dire straits. And it's not a comforting muse.

Exhaustion

2008-03-21T13:06:00.002+08:00

I'm tired. Deeply so.

the good life

2008-02-22T01:50:00.008+08:00

DWARF hamsters are such wonderful little creatures. They have their food, lodging and waste taken care of, do whatever they like—whenever they like it and live promiscuously without risk, all the while getting entertained and humored by their simpleton owners who find whatever they do unbearably cute and fascinating.

Maybe a dwarf hamster is what you will become in your next life if you behave real nice now. Sure, there are some hamsters that meet up with bad owners, or get devoured the moment they were born, but compare this with the number of humans not getting treated right – and you’d think eutopia is in a 2 feet tank layered with chunks of expensive cotton that absorbs your daily waste.

*yawn*

no update!?!

2008-02-20T01:38:00.010+08:00

IF you're holding your breath for an update, please don't. There's more pleasant ways to die than suffocation.

So, why so busy?

well.... busy with this (mess) here.

So... how many rules did i break?

back for the nth time

2008-01-19T04:39:00.003+08:00

TIME after time, this blog has been repeatedly deleted, restored, ignored, revived, deleted again, restored again... the cycle goes on and on. If anything in real life can be paralleled to my temperamental blogging, it has to be the love-hate relationship a druggie has with his rehab centre.

Perhaps someday the addict will come into terms that he cannot escape his addiction, and slip into his safe haven once and for all. Or perhaps he'll learn to face and stay in the cold boredom of real life in time.

I've let this blog and its few readers down time after time. And I'm sorry. I can't promise you that you will enjoy what I'm going to write this time around, or whether this blog will disappear again, but let's just let this idiotically indecisive, life wasting drug addict have his quick fix for now. And we'll see if he finally gets the courage to make a permanent decision.

How's this new skin? It's not early now, and I've finally finished tweaking the design and embedded stuff to my liking. My first time editing HTML stuff, though I didn't quite write this from scratch. Links, etc will come soon hopefully. Past posts are gone forever, not like anyone's gonna miss them anyway.

And I still love this cocaine some people call writing. Though this addict seemed to have lost his needle.