Betwixt and Between
Was totally wasted in camp last tuesday after that crazy weekend. Slept throughout the whole of tuesday, had the usual feeling of someone just please end my suffering my knocking me out with a heavy blow to the head. Worst still we were doing stores till late and I was practically zombie-ing by then. BCS deployment was ok in my opinion, but our course commander thought it was lousy. What do you expect from people who have either never done deployment before or have only deployed once which was during their course?
Was highly intrigued by the Kong Hui batteries I came across when we went to Stagmont for a signal package. I liken it to going on an excursion during those school days long forgetten.
Hmm, I seem to lack interesting things to write about. Nick your requests for more "novel-like" stories will be entertained in good time, once I get the necessary inspiration. My life is a more mundane shade of green nowadays compared to back in JC, the creative juices aren't flowing as a result.
Jin told me that I should just blog anyway, just post anything, be it song lyrics or those quizs you can link to your blog. I think I'll just restrict this place to my thoughts, besides I don't have any lofty ambitions about this blog, besides with such poor readership it's quite pointless. It'll be just a corner of cyberspace for myself.
Anyway, just to sum up how my life is now:
Currently liking:
Music:
High and Mighty Color (great J-rock band, they did the themes for Bleach and Seed Destiny)
Anime songs from anime I've watched
Eyes on me by Angela Aki (a nice alternative to the faye wong's version, more emphasis on the piano, made me like a old song all over again)
FFXII theme Kiss me goodbye (what can I say, FFXII will take the ORD period by storm when it comes out in august hopefully)
Games:
Kingdom Hearts 2 (a great game not because of its plot or anything like that, it just makes you WANT to drop everything else and play it)
Nothing else as I want to stop playing games for a while once I get over KH2
Shows:
The usual anime, Bleach is getting awfully boring though
Reading:
Been borrowing random novels from the library on weekends, too much free time after RO
Catching up on my 3 magazines (TIME, Newsweek and Forbes)
Borrowed MAR from adrian
Well, 2 more weeks to pass out. After the topo this week it's Mi3 with the guys, and of course there's yet another long weekend to look forward to. Cheers people!
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Monday, May 01, 2006
Crash and burn
What an exhausting weekend. Spent friday doing guard duty which was only given to me on thursday, played mahjong at jay's house on sat night, spent the better half of today out with either the fencers or the Guys celebrating the return of the prodigal son edwin. All that and a lot of sleeping in between.
Slow life these days. Course will be ending in 3 weeks, passed all my tests and practicals without actually working too hard, my residual knowledge of biology and smokebomb after smokebomb thrown to wayang in front of my testers proved to be suffice.
Attachment to Alexandra fire station and hospital proved to be a real eye opener. Saw a suicide attempt by the slashing of wrist, 2 asthma cases, 1 case of bad myocardial infarction ie heart attack, plus observed many a medical procedure in AH.
Actually being a SCDF paramedic during your NSF time is quite meaningful and good. For starters, you work either 2 day or night shifts in a row then get 2 days off. Your CPL pay is 600. You get meal allowance of 4 bucks a meal. You are really actually doing something useful other than just wayanging. The medics were bantering with their superiors in a very simple atmosphere, no semblance of office politcs seen. Plus you get to go and visit the civilian world all the time when you go out on calls. You get the chance to chat up the NYP nurses while at the hospital haha.
Oh well, had a very brief thought of signing on to be a paramedic, but that thought died very quickly.
Looks like I can't disrupt. That means I'm facing a period of 8 months of dead time before I enter university. Time to scout for a job to make sure those 8 months or so are spent meaningfully.
Am horrified by my duties when I return to the medical centre. Still hope things will settle down once our acute manpower shortage is solved.
I actually managed to run 7 km last week, albeit very slowly. Time to train for that now very elusive IPPT silver.
Haiz, don't really feel like turning in, even though my eyelids are very heavy. Once slumber gets me the next thing i'll know is that I'll be heading back to camp.
I really want more structure in my life. At least in JC the overarching goal was to get 4As so if I was ever in doubt I just realign everything according to that goal, but now the goal is just to ORD as soon as possible. How does one work towards that?
What an exhausting weekend. Spent friday doing guard duty which was only given to me on thursday, played mahjong at jay's house on sat night, spent the better half of today out with either the fencers or the Guys celebrating the return of the prodigal son edwin. All that and a lot of sleeping in between.
Slow life these days. Course will be ending in 3 weeks, passed all my tests and practicals without actually working too hard, my residual knowledge of biology and smokebomb after smokebomb thrown to wayang in front of my testers proved to be suffice.
Attachment to Alexandra fire station and hospital proved to be a real eye opener. Saw a suicide attempt by the slashing of wrist, 2 asthma cases, 1 case of bad myocardial infarction ie heart attack, plus observed many a medical procedure in AH.
Actually being a SCDF paramedic during your NSF time is quite meaningful and good. For starters, you work either 2 day or night shifts in a row then get 2 days off. Your CPL pay is 600. You get meal allowance of 4 bucks a meal. You are really actually doing something useful other than just wayanging. The medics were bantering with their superiors in a very simple atmosphere, no semblance of office politcs seen. Plus you get to go and visit the civilian world all the time when you go out on calls. You get the chance to chat up the NYP nurses while at the hospital haha.
Oh well, had a very brief thought of signing on to be a paramedic, but that thought died very quickly.
Looks like I can't disrupt. That means I'm facing a period of 8 months of dead time before I enter university. Time to scout for a job to make sure those 8 months or so are spent meaningfully.
Am horrified by my duties when I return to the medical centre. Still hope things will settle down once our acute manpower shortage is solved.
I actually managed to run 7 km last week, albeit very slowly. Time to train for that now very elusive IPPT silver.
Haiz, don't really feel like turning in, even though my eyelids are very heavy. Once slumber gets me the next thing i'll know is that I'll be heading back to camp.
I really want more structure in my life. At least in JC the overarching goal was to get 4As so if I was ever in doubt I just realign everything according to that goal, but now the goal is just to ORD as soon as possible. How does one work towards that?
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Twilight
His blade was darker than the darkest of nights.
And it was held in front of him.
The doppelganger stared down his real self.
Strange, he thought, he waited so long for this meeting. Many times he had fantasised about what he would do once he finally met his other. All the anger, the rage that had consumed him for so long would finally have found an outlet. He would defeat his other "real" self completely and assume his position. Where there was once an other there would only be him now.
Yet, now as his "real" self laid weakened before him, his blade in his possession, at the mercy of his own dark blade, the doppelganger hesitated. He had bested his real self. He had proven he was the stronger one. He knew that his real self could now be condemned to the fate that would have otherwise been the doppelganger's, which is not to die, rather just to fade into eternal nothingness.
And yet, for all his anger and hatred, he hesitated.
His real self had asked, when they clashed blades earlier, who was he? That question always amused him. He was nothing but yet something. He was not supposed to exist yet he does. He was neither light or dark, but something in between, destined not to wander in the realms of either. A mere shell.
He just had to know.
"Why did he choose you?" The doppelganger mouthed, before tossing his real self's blade back to him. The doppelganger slowly took up a battle stance as he watched his bewildered other stagger to his feet and reclaim his blade.
He knows nothing. He who knows nothing can understand nothing.
The doppelganger charged, swinging his dark blade with malice and intent, each slash a carefully calculated move imbued with the essence of rage and pain. His real self was however his equal, parrying his moves and counterattacking at the same time. The doppelganger brought his blade down heavily on his other's, and the two of them were locked in a fearsome embrace of weapons.
The doppelganger watched his real self buckle under the force of his blade. Beneath his dark hood, he smirked. I'm the superior one, he thought.
Suddenly, the doppelganger felt his whole being was being pushed back, as if a great invisible force had done so. He recovered quickly, and stood up again to see his other panting,leaning against his blade for support.
"I don't care who you are, but this ends right now!" He shouted. The doppelganger could only smile. He had bested him once, and he intended to do so again.
Then, with a speed that was incomprehensible, his other moved. One moment he was there, holding his blade in an attack stance, the next he was gone, a fuzzy blur of motion was all that the doppelganger caught. Desperately he raised his blade to block, but he knew he was going to be too late. Surprisingly, instead of a blade slicing through his miserable existence, he felt it slam hard against his own blade with a loud clash.
"I don't wish to fight you, but if you're going to be in my way, I'll just take you out before I move on then."
The doppelganger knew. If he had desired to do so, his other would have cut him already, but he had chosen not to. Such utter foolishness, he thought, as he pushed his other back. Then he realised. Maybe he chose him as he was what he was, a person who followed his heart, no matter where it led him.
Perhaps it was so.
The doppelganger drew his left hand back, and another blade materialised in his gloved hand. This blade was gleaming white, the yin to the yang of his other dark blade. This is the end, he whispered.
The doppelganger charged, dual wielding the conflicting blades. He overwhelmed his other with a wave of fierce attacks, before he crumpled to his knees, exhausted. A nonchalant flick of his right hand, and his other lost his blade yet again. It spun away from the two warriors.
The doppelganger stared into the defiant eyes of his other. Those azure blue eyes of his which he shared. It seemed to have a disconcerting effect on him, and once again, he hesitated. How does one strike his own self?
Then, with the same speed he showed earlier, his real self sommersaulted away from his blade range, and with a single fluid action, grabbed his blade and slashed the doppelganger across his abdomen.
There was no blood, no pain, nothing. The doppelganger staggered, and fell headfirst to the ground, his hood coming off at the same time. His other caught a glimpse of his adversary and gasped.
It was like looking into a mirror.
The doppelganger's last thoughts before he faded into the nothingness he came from were simple.
He who knows nothing can understand nothing.
Inspired by the Roxas Sora face off in Kingdom Hearts 2. Wonder if it actually makes sense.
His blade was darker than the darkest of nights.
And it was held in front of him.
The doppelganger stared down his real self.
Strange, he thought, he waited so long for this meeting. Many times he had fantasised about what he would do once he finally met his other. All the anger, the rage that had consumed him for so long would finally have found an outlet. He would defeat his other "real" self completely and assume his position. Where there was once an other there would only be him now.
Yet, now as his "real" self laid weakened before him, his blade in his possession, at the mercy of his own dark blade, the doppelganger hesitated. He had bested his real self. He had proven he was the stronger one. He knew that his real self could now be condemned to the fate that would have otherwise been the doppelganger's, which is not to die, rather just to fade into eternal nothingness.
And yet, for all his anger and hatred, he hesitated.
His real self had asked, when they clashed blades earlier, who was he? That question always amused him. He was nothing but yet something. He was not supposed to exist yet he does. He was neither light or dark, but something in between, destined not to wander in the realms of either. A mere shell.
He just had to know.
"Why did he choose you?" The doppelganger mouthed, before tossing his real self's blade back to him. The doppelganger slowly took up a battle stance as he watched his bewildered other stagger to his feet and reclaim his blade.
He knows nothing. He who knows nothing can understand nothing.
The doppelganger charged, swinging his dark blade with malice and intent, each slash a carefully calculated move imbued with the essence of rage and pain. His real self was however his equal, parrying his moves and counterattacking at the same time. The doppelganger brought his blade down heavily on his other's, and the two of them were locked in a fearsome embrace of weapons.
The doppelganger watched his real self buckle under the force of his blade. Beneath his dark hood, he smirked. I'm the superior one, he thought.
Suddenly, the doppelganger felt his whole being was being pushed back, as if a great invisible force had done so. He recovered quickly, and stood up again to see his other panting,leaning against his blade for support.
"I don't care who you are, but this ends right now!" He shouted. The doppelganger could only smile. He had bested him once, and he intended to do so again.
Then, with a speed that was incomprehensible, his other moved. One moment he was there, holding his blade in an attack stance, the next he was gone, a fuzzy blur of motion was all that the doppelganger caught. Desperately he raised his blade to block, but he knew he was going to be too late. Surprisingly, instead of a blade slicing through his miserable existence, he felt it slam hard against his own blade with a loud clash.
"I don't wish to fight you, but if you're going to be in my way, I'll just take you out before I move on then."
The doppelganger knew. If he had desired to do so, his other would have cut him already, but he had chosen not to. Such utter foolishness, he thought, as he pushed his other back. Then he realised. Maybe he chose him as he was what he was, a person who followed his heart, no matter where it led him.
Perhaps it was so.
The doppelganger drew his left hand back, and another blade materialised in his gloved hand. This blade was gleaming white, the yin to the yang of his other dark blade. This is the end, he whispered.
The doppelganger charged, dual wielding the conflicting blades. He overwhelmed his other with a wave of fierce attacks, before he crumpled to his knees, exhausted. A nonchalant flick of his right hand, and his other lost his blade yet again. It spun away from the two warriors.
The doppelganger stared into the defiant eyes of his other. Those azure blue eyes of his which he shared. It seemed to have a disconcerting effect on him, and once again, he hesitated. How does one strike his own self?
Then, with the same speed he showed earlier, his real self sommersaulted away from his blade range, and with a single fluid action, grabbed his blade and slashed the doppelganger across his abdomen.
There was no blood, no pain, nothing. The doppelganger staggered, and fell headfirst to the ground, his hood coming off at the same time. His other caught a glimpse of his adversary and gasped.
It was like looking into a mirror.
The doppelganger's last thoughts before he faded into the nothingness he came from were simple.
He who knows nothing can understand nothing.
Inspired by the Roxas Sora face off in Kingdom Hearts 2. Wonder if it actually makes sense.
Alley to the in between
Sorry guys, been too busy playing Kingdom Hearts 2 that I haven't been updating. Not that anyone cares anyway, this is more of a silent monologue nowadays. Still, let's keep this charade up a bit longer for a while till I decide to can it permanently. If I do so in the end that is.
Life is incredibly unfufilling. Apart from investing 38 hours of my life in KH2, which to me sometimes it feels like a royal waste of time or I get great joy from playing it. Such conflicting emotions. But it is a great game. The plot was great as well, once you get past the world police portions. Definately would recommend it to others.
How's things on your side? My course is going smoothly, been passing all the tests which frankly I never really put a lot of effort into studying for them, been lugging the huge 1000 odd page book on first aid home most of the book outs but never going as much as to open the plastic bag I packed it inside. Such is my arrogance and foolishness. But having said that the course is interesting at times, it's a nice refreshing break from the medical centre, which can be a real pressure cooker at times. Days on course are spent supposedly listening in lectures, napping during meal times, talking cock from 7 plus till lights out, have also been actively reading novels again, thanks to the abundance of free time i have in camp. Also managed to catch up with my backlog of time and newsweek magazines, but not forbes. Will hopefully do so in time.
Now am currently on attachment to ambulances and AH. Been an uneventful attachment so far, but it's been interesting as it does help me look at how healthcare is really handled in the outside world. Interestingly, I found out it isn't too dissimilar to how it is in my medical centre.
Well, here's looking to ORD in nov. Maybe I'll find something along the way to that light at the end of the tunnel.
Sorry guys, been too busy playing Kingdom Hearts 2 that I haven't been updating. Not that anyone cares anyway, this is more of a silent monologue nowadays. Still, let's keep this charade up a bit longer for a while till I decide to can it permanently. If I do so in the end that is.
Life is incredibly unfufilling. Apart from investing 38 hours of my life in KH2, which to me sometimes it feels like a royal waste of time or I get great joy from playing it. Such conflicting emotions. But it is a great game. The plot was great as well, once you get past the world police portions. Definately would recommend it to others.
How's things on your side? My course is going smoothly, been passing all the tests which frankly I never really put a lot of effort into studying for them, been lugging the huge 1000 odd page book on first aid home most of the book outs but never going as much as to open the plastic bag I packed it inside. Such is my arrogance and foolishness. But having said that the course is interesting at times, it's a nice refreshing break from the medical centre, which can be a real pressure cooker at times. Days on course are spent supposedly listening in lectures, napping during meal times, talking cock from 7 plus till lights out, have also been actively reading novels again, thanks to the abundance of free time i have in camp. Also managed to catch up with my backlog of time and newsweek magazines, but not forbes. Will hopefully do so in time.
Now am currently on attachment to ambulances and AH. Been an uneventful attachment so far, but it's been interesting as it does help me look at how healthcare is really handled in the outside world. Interestingly, I found out it isn't too dissimilar to how it is in my medical centre.
Well, here's looking to ORD in nov. Maybe I'll find something along the way to that light at the end of the tunnel.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Unforgivable
Hey guys, my long absence from this place will be even longer as I'm now on course back in the good old nee soon camp. Currently doing my level 2 paramedic course till may 17th. Will post interesting stories if I encounter on the weekends when I book out, till then take care people.
Oh and yeah, Kingdom Hearts 2 comes on on tues, FF12 is out in Japan. Can't wait to wield 2 keyblades come this weekend...
Hey guys, my long absence from this place will be even longer as I'm now on course back in the good old nee soon camp. Currently doing my level 2 paramedic course till may 17th. Will post interesting stories if I encounter on the weekends when I book out, till then take care people.
Oh and yeah, Kingdom Hearts 2 comes on on tues, FF12 is out in Japan. Can't wait to wield 2 keyblades come this weekend...
Monday, February 27, 2006
My life to live not yours
Well well, the furore over the internet of this girl who filmed herself having sex with her boyfriend and subsequently had her phone stolen and the clip distributed over the internet thus gaining internet notoriety. Normally I loathe to jump on the bandwagon and comment about such inane stuff, nevertheless I feel strongly enough to write about it here.
First of all, let's establish that it was a personal clip. I'm not interested in what people do in the dark corners of their rooms. I mean as I sit here writing there are millions of people engaging in coitus now so why feel surprised that people out there are getting some?
Maybe it's because of the age of the person involved. Oh c'mon, walk into any army camp you can hear NSFs exchanging stories about their conquests. Don't be a prune. Like it or not your precious sons and daughters are engaging in coitus with you in your ignorant bliss.
I must say that I don't condone premarital sex, but I believe it's the right of an individual to mess up their own lives in their own self destructive way. I don't intend to take any moral high ground or anything like that, I just believe if your actions don't affect me directly you are very welcome to press the self destruct in your life. So people please, unless you're her parents and have a duty to tell her what to do, just lay off, and maybe you would like to find out what junior has been doing at that friend's house other than that very hard to complete "project".
Besides, again this is a sign we have yet to progress as a nation. Instead of talking about the death of a national icon, budget 2006 or basically something more important, we're engaging in idle chatter about a girl's personal life.
However, what I REALLY took offence to was that a newspaper interviewed a religious leader who offered his views about the incident. Granted, some people may think he is an authority on the degradation of teenage moral values, but lest I forgot, aren't we a secular society? By only interviewing him and no other religious leaders is the newspaper trying to say that the religion he supports is the de facto religion in singapore? And what the religious leader said could be interpreted as "if the girl had been a member of his religion she wouldn't have done such a thing" I felt such a comment was unnecessary. The incident has already happened, and it just feels like a thinly veiled attempt at trying to promote this religion above others. Singapore is a secular society, hell you're not even allowed to play worship songs in camp, so why this blatant promoting of one religion above the others? Note I'm no bigot but friends know I have strong beliefs about religion. However, that does not mean I do not respect a person's religion. It's just that I take offence to the blatant promotion by a supposedly secular newspaper. So those ready to hang me or burn me at the stake please stay your murderous hands as I mean no harm.
So, fellow citizens of singapore, please get off your moral high horse. It's a free world, if people want to screw up their lives, unless you're their guardian and thus you shall gain embarrassment by proxy thus would be obliged to stop their self destruction, just let those who wish to destroy their lives go ahead. Don't get a messianic complex and think you can save everyone. Not everyone may want to be saved.
Well well, the furore over the internet of this girl who filmed herself having sex with her boyfriend and subsequently had her phone stolen and the clip distributed over the internet thus gaining internet notoriety. Normally I loathe to jump on the bandwagon and comment about such inane stuff, nevertheless I feel strongly enough to write about it here.
First of all, let's establish that it was a personal clip. I'm not interested in what people do in the dark corners of their rooms. I mean as I sit here writing there are millions of people engaging in coitus now so why feel surprised that people out there are getting some?
Maybe it's because of the age of the person involved. Oh c'mon, walk into any army camp you can hear NSFs exchanging stories about their conquests. Don't be a prune. Like it or not your precious sons and daughters are engaging in coitus with you in your ignorant bliss.
I must say that I don't condone premarital sex, but I believe it's the right of an individual to mess up their own lives in their own self destructive way. I don't intend to take any moral high ground or anything like that, I just believe if your actions don't affect me directly you are very welcome to press the self destruct in your life. So people please, unless you're her parents and have a duty to tell her what to do, just lay off, and maybe you would like to find out what junior has been doing at that friend's house other than that very hard to complete "project".
Besides, again this is a sign we have yet to progress as a nation. Instead of talking about the death of a national icon, budget 2006 or basically something more important, we're engaging in idle chatter about a girl's personal life.
However, what I REALLY took offence to was that a newspaper interviewed a religious leader who offered his views about the incident. Granted, some people may think he is an authority on the degradation of teenage moral values, but lest I forgot, aren't we a secular society? By only interviewing him and no other religious leaders is the newspaper trying to say that the religion he supports is the de facto religion in singapore? And what the religious leader said could be interpreted as "if the girl had been a member of his religion she wouldn't have done such a thing" I felt such a comment was unnecessary. The incident has already happened, and it just feels like a thinly veiled attempt at trying to promote this religion above others. Singapore is a secular society, hell you're not even allowed to play worship songs in camp, so why this blatant promoting of one religion above the others? Note I'm no bigot but friends know I have strong beliefs about religion. However, that does not mean I do not respect a person's religion. It's just that I take offence to the blatant promotion by a supposedly secular newspaper. So those ready to hang me or burn me at the stake please stay your murderous hands as I mean no harm.
So, fellow citizens of singapore, please get off your moral high horse. It's a free world, if people want to screw up their lives, unless you're their guardian and thus you shall gain embarrassment by proxy thus would be obliged to stop their self destruction, just let those who wish to destroy their lives go ahead. Don't get a messianic complex and think you can save everyone. Not everyone may want to be saved.
Thursday, February 23, 2006
You can't be that good a person and be well adjusted
So says Dr Gregory House.
Been a real lousy day. Not the worst day, but it can be ranked up there. I deleted a paragraph or so of entry as I'm afraid someone may read it, so you can tell the extend I've fallen to... Whatever happend to the cavalier Zhao Yang who never shunned away from making a controvesial comment?
I feel so... lousy. I've lied, cheated, backstabbed, and worst of all compromised my principles and morals, and justify my actions being essential for self-survival. I may think I'm smart to survive in this harsh world but I'm actually just a simple coward. I hate myself for having fallen to where I am now. I live a schizophernic life, and I know my true self seems to be hidden away, never to be shown to anyone that can potentially hurt me. There are days I just don't want to get out of bed to face the day.
Yet I still do so. I still get out of bed to face the challenges of the day, no matter how soul destorying it is...
Perhaps that's the price of being well adjusted, the goodness of me will slowly be ebbed away by the rising tide of cynicism until all that is left is mere shadow of the person I was, and will never be...
Still waiting for that better tommorrow..
So says Dr Gregory House.
Been a real lousy day. Not the worst day, but it can be ranked up there. I deleted a paragraph or so of entry as I'm afraid someone may read it, so you can tell the extend I've fallen to... Whatever happend to the cavalier Zhao Yang who never shunned away from making a controvesial comment?
I feel so... lousy. I've lied, cheated, backstabbed, and worst of all compromised my principles and morals, and justify my actions being essential for self-survival. I may think I'm smart to survive in this harsh world but I'm actually just a simple coward. I hate myself for having fallen to where I am now. I live a schizophernic life, and I know my true self seems to be hidden away, never to be shown to anyone that can potentially hurt me. There are days I just don't want to get out of bed to face the day.
Yet I still do so. I still get out of bed to face the challenges of the day, no matter how soul destorying it is...
Perhaps that's the price of being well adjusted, the goodness of me will slowly be ebbed away by the rising tide of cynicism until all that is left is mere shadow of the person I was, and will never be...
Still waiting for that better tommorrow..
Thursday, February 02, 2006
That time of the year again
As i stoned away in paya lebar air base waiting for my turn to take my annual medic profiency test, I perused today's papers and ended up with the urban section. In there they had a valentine's day special about 4 guys who are supposedly very eligible bachelors and why they are single this valentine's day. It was a rather interesting read, and it stirred up some old emotions and made me think.
As I approach the 20th valentine's day of my life again dateless (no surprise there), I can't help but feel pensive about my lack of a love life. It's not because I'm yearning for a relationship, I believe I have gone past that point, where now I see that being in a relationship is no panecea, no miracle drug that will make you feel better. A relationship requires effort and time, and sometimes once the rose tinted glasses go off, it ends in tears or quiet resignation.
It's not that I've turned my back to love either. I believe it's an emotion that will keep us going, an emotion similar to hope, with love comes purpose, one's will be strengthened by wanting to protect the ones he love, provide them with a good life etc.
Perhaps I have ended up in an emotional crossroad, where I don't know where can I go from this point. No more schoolboy crushes, no more doing stupid things in the hope of getting her attention, I grimace when I think of my past deeds.
I do believe that the other person that you think love is just a body of thoughts, like i said in my previous post, a person you think that once you get into a relationship with the person, you get rid of your miseries and have fufilled all your desires. To a certain extent it's true, but it brings with you more problems as well.
I don't know if you can classify me as being fatigued, confused, or a loser who's just lamenting over his lack of ability to get a date and trying to act all philosphical to try and cover up that fact.
On the 14th I have volunteered to do duties for most of my campmates as most of them are attached, my doctor who had a RT cover on that day changed his to a later date, and when he informed us medics about it, he inserted this line into his email, "hey aren't you glad I'm not going to drag one of you with me on the 14th to sulk with me? of course it wouldn't matter for zhao yang anyway.. :)"
There was one ocassion where my campmates were all gathering around discussing the plans they have for valentine's day, one said he's taking his girlfriend to walk around the esplanade area, one's said he's taking her to mount faber to see stars, one was getting ideas from the ideas. Then, inevitably, the conversation veered towards poking fun at the perpetually dateless me, the only girlfriend-less person in the camp. As usual I'll just smile and laugh off their comments, but one of them asked me a question that set me thinking, "zhao yang, surely you like some girls or are good friends with them, just get one of them to be your girlfriend la!" or something to that effect.
Indeed why not? I must confess there are times I felt this way about some of my friends, but thank the heavens I have never acted on such reckless impulses. I think that just getting anyone, any person to be in a relationship with you is just irresponsible. I know if I did that it'll be just to fill that void in my heart and nothign else. That is totally selfish I feel. In such a relationship nothing good can come out of it and once the honeymoon period is over, all you're left with is just bittersweet memories. But they countered, "you're not marrying her!" and "consider such stuff after you're in a relationship".
Well, both points are valid I guess, but still maybe I'm just too cowardly to go and create those bittersweet memories. This post will most likely make you think I'm an idiot who thinks too much or an absoulte loser who's trying to justify why he can't get a girlfriend and comforting himself by coming up with an elaborate and convulated theory about it.
Come 14th feb, I'll be glad to be in camp, away from the lovey dovey couples in esplanade or mount faber gazing at stars or what nots, away from the sights of affection, away from the candle lit resturants, away from the ubiquitious roses, and yet, the desire to join in with them will not go away.
As i stoned away in paya lebar air base waiting for my turn to take my annual medic profiency test, I perused today's papers and ended up with the urban section. In there they had a valentine's day special about 4 guys who are supposedly very eligible bachelors and why they are single this valentine's day. It was a rather interesting read, and it stirred up some old emotions and made me think.
As I approach the 20th valentine's day of my life again dateless (no surprise there), I can't help but feel pensive about my lack of a love life. It's not because I'm yearning for a relationship, I believe I have gone past that point, where now I see that being in a relationship is no panecea, no miracle drug that will make you feel better. A relationship requires effort and time, and sometimes once the rose tinted glasses go off, it ends in tears or quiet resignation.
It's not that I've turned my back to love either. I believe it's an emotion that will keep us going, an emotion similar to hope, with love comes purpose, one's will be strengthened by wanting to protect the ones he love, provide them with a good life etc.
Perhaps I have ended up in an emotional crossroad, where I don't know where can I go from this point. No more schoolboy crushes, no more doing stupid things in the hope of getting her attention, I grimace when I think of my past deeds.
I do believe that the other person that you think love is just a body of thoughts, like i said in my previous post, a person you think that once you get into a relationship with the person, you get rid of your miseries and have fufilled all your desires. To a certain extent it's true, but it brings with you more problems as well.
I don't know if you can classify me as being fatigued, confused, or a loser who's just lamenting over his lack of ability to get a date and trying to act all philosphical to try and cover up that fact.
On the 14th I have volunteered to do duties for most of my campmates as most of them are attached, my doctor who had a RT cover on that day changed his to a later date, and when he informed us medics about it, he inserted this line into his email, "hey aren't you glad I'm not going to drag one of you with me on the 14th to sulk with me? of course it wouldn't matter for zhao yang anyway.. :)"
There was one ocassion where my campmates were all gathering around discussing the plans they have for valentine's day, one said he's taking his girlfriend to walk around the esplanade area, one's said he's taking her to mount faber to see stars, one was getting ideas from the ideas. Then, inevitably, the conversation veered towards poking fun at the perpetually dateless me, the only girlfriend-less person in the camp. As usual I'll just smile and laugh off their comments, but one of them asked me a question that set me thinking, "zhao yang, surely you like some girls or are good friends with them, just get one of them to be your girlfriend la!" or something to that effect.
Indeed why not? I must confess there are times I felt this way about some of my friends, but thank the heavens I have never acted on such reckless impulses. I think that just getting anyone, any person to be in a relationship with you is just irresponsible. I know if I did that it'll be just to fill that void in my heart and nothign else. That is totally selfish I feel. In such a relationship nothing good can come out of it and once the honeymoon period is over, all you're left with is just bittersweet memories. But they countered, "you're not marrying her!" and "consider such stuff after you're in a relationship".
Well, both points are valid I guess, but still maybe I'm just too cowardly to go and create those bittersweet memories. This post will most likely make you think I'm an idiot who thinks too much or an absoulte loser who's trying to justify why he can't get a girlfriend and comforting himself by coming up with an elaborate and convulated theory about it.
Come 14th feb, I'll be glad to be in camp, away from the lovey dovey couples in esplanade or mount faber gazing at stars or what nots, away from the sights of affection, away from the candle lit resturants, away from the ubiquitious roses, and yet, the desire to join in with them will not go away.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Body of thoughts
Somehow I think that, if one thinks too much for too long, they start to imagine things and if it happens often enough, it becomes reality in the person's mind, thus affecting the person's abiliy to make good decisions.
I believe I fell victim to such impulses.
Well, all i can say now, now that the dust has finally settled, that she was a body of thoughts, the physical manifestation of my deepest desires and fears, a mere proxy of my misguided attempts for happiness.
Somehow I think that, if one thinks too much for too long, they start to imagine things and if it happens often enough, it becomes reality in the person's mind, thus affecting the person's abiliy to make good decisions.
I believe I fell victim to such impulses.
Well, all i can say now, now that the dust has finally settled, that she was a body of thoughts, the physical manifestation of my deepest desires and fears, a mere proxy of my misguided attempts for happiness.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Kiss Me Goodbye
By Angela Aki
Theme song of Final Fantasy XII
You said my love is all you need,
See you through
But I know these words are not quite true.
Here is the path you're looking for
An open door
Leading to worlds you long to explore
I'll give you wings to fly,
Cast all your fears into the sky
Kiss me goodbye, love's mystery
All of my life I'll hold you close to me
Don't shed a tear for love's mortality
For you put the dream in my reality
Kiss me goodbye, love's memory
You put the dream in my reality
I'm a sucker for love ballads combined with epic stories.
By Angela Aki
Theme song of Final Fantasy XII
You said my love is all you need,
See you through
But I know these words are not quite true.
Here is the path you're looking for
An open door
Leading to worlds you long to explore
I'll give you wings to fly,
Cast all your fears into the sky
Kiss me goodbye, love's mystery
All of my life I'll hold you close to me
Don't shed a tear for love's mortality
For you put the dream in my reality
Kiss me goodbye, love's memory
You put the dream in my reality
I'm a sucker for love ballads combined with epic stories.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
20 and counting
T H E B I R T H D A Y S O N G
Written by Corrinne May Ying Foo
Copyright 2003, Corrmay Gourmet Music (ASCAP)
Don't worry about that extra line
That's creeping up upon your face
It's just a part of nature's way to say you've grown a little more
Trees have rings and thicker branches
Kids shoes get a little tighter
Every year we're getting closer to who we're gonna be
It's time to celebrate the story of how you've come to be
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
So light a candle on your cake
For every smile you've helped create
For every heart and every soul you've helped to grow
A little more
A few more pounds, a little more grey
Don't count the years, just count the way
It takes a little time to go from water into wine
Don't ever lose the wonder of that child within your eyes
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
I guess this song says it all. Happy birthday to me. 20 and counting, here's to more whimisical whining and thoughts...
T H E B I R T H D A Y S O N G
Written by Corrinne May Ying Foo
Copyright 2003, Corrmay Gourmet Music (ASCAP)
Don't worry about that extra line
That's creeping up upon your face
It's just a part of nature's way to say you've grown a little more
Trees have rings and thicker branches
Kids shoes get a little tighter
Every year we're getting closer to who we're gonna be
It's time to celebrate the story of how you've come to be
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
So light a candle on your cake
For every smile you've helped create
For every heart and every soul you've helped to grow
A little more
A few more pounds, a little more grey
Don't count the years, just count the way
It takes a little time to go from water into wine
Don't ever lose the wonder of that child within your eyes
Happy Birthday, my friend
Here's to all the years we've shared together
All the fun we've had
You're such a blessing
Such a joy in my life
May the good Lord bless you
And may all your dreams come true
I guess this song says it all. Happy birthday to me. 20 and counting, here's to more whimisical whining and thoughts...
Monday, January 16, 2006
Wasted..
I just caught the campus superstar episode that was playing on tv just now. The 4th female contestant sang the song I am very into now, Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi CI Yong You, as I said in one of my previous posts. AS she sang, I could genuinely feel the emotion, the sense of loss and regret emoting from that young voice of hers. She was easily the best performing female contestant.
Then when it came for the judges to critique her performance, the third judge said something that struck me. She said, "I don't know if a 15-16 year old has had the necessary life experiences to be able to sing a song about a great love lost..."
Well, in my opinion, judging from the raw emotion she displayed in her voice and expression, apparently a lot...
20 years and counting...
Thanks to all those that remembered, it was nice to get all those calls, sms, msn greetings etc. I really did appreciate the greetings.
I just caught the campus superstar episode that was playing on tv just now. The 4th female contestant sang the song I am very into now, Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi CI Yong You, as I said in one of my previous posts. AS she sang, I could genuinely feel the emotion, the sense of loss and regret emoting from that young voice of hers. She was easily the best performing female contestant.
Then when it came for the judges to critique her performance, the third judge said something that struck me. She said, "I don't know if a 15-16 year old has had the necessary life experiences to be able to sing a song about a great love lost..."
Well, in my opinion, judging from the raw emotion she displayed in her voice and expression, apparently a lot...
20 years and counting...
Thanks to all those that remembered, it was nice to get all those calls, sms, msn greetings etc. I really did appreciate the greetings.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
To have it once again
I've been rather enchanted by a chinese song from a singaporean artist Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi Ci Yong You (loosely translated as "let me have it once again"). It's a song pining for lost love, but yet it strikes a chord with me with its lyrics about loss and how you would do anything, anything just to regain it.
Once again I trawl the Internet world aimlessly in the death of the night, resisting the urge to turn in for the night and hence face the next day. Some idle clicking led me to some of old classmates' blogs, which out of boredom decided to peruse them.
I shouldn't have.
Somehow their words, felt alien yet familiar. Some of them have gone on to different things, either studying overseas or in different army camps. They express their thoughts and emotions about their vastly different lives that I no longer play any significant part in. Once I was a classmate whom you could have canteen breaks with, borrow notes to copy from, have lunches in ghim moh or copy tutorials from; now perhaps I'm just relegated to being a saved contact on the handphone, a face in that school photo, or just a mere hazy memory.
Maybe they just forget me. But I know that is not true, as I myself have started to forget people. It's been a year since I left school for the big bad world, and I've lost touch with many, far too many. Sometimes I wonder how they're doing, but it's never more than a few seconds of curious thought, before my brain returns to stuff more immediate and direct.
This I got from a friend's blog about what I wore for prom in 2004.
"Zyang (my name i guess, great way of ensuring people don't google it) looked nothing but unglam in his sharked skin coloured suit courtesy of his dad. He didn't look like a shark but he did look like a fashion disaster. Horrible taste. However, that did not stop him from winning the 5th prize of a digital camera in the lucky draw, perhaps a good way of the glitzy night in mocking him by making him go up on stage."
Well if that friend of mine sees this, for the record I kinda agree with him. I'm just an idiot when it comes to dressing. So really since you spoke the truth there's really nothing for me to be upset about.
And well, a part of me is compelling me to defend myself as to why I chose that suit, yet another part of me tells me to let it go.
Reading blogs of others, especially those who are candid about people, really let you take a look at how people view you. When they say bad things about you, you may want to immediately defend yourself, try to justify your actions, as you feel that you as a person have been violated, but maybe sometimes it's the truth, which hurts bad.
Another thing I learned from reading blogs is that no matter how different our lives are now, we still share common problems and desires. We longed to be cherished, we get frustrated over things, we are saddened by loss, we hide our true selves from the world lest they try to hurt us, we lie, cheat, backstab to protect ourselves, we love or hate each other, we stare from afar those with seemingly perfect lives and sigh "why can't that be me?", we yearn for acceptance, we are all but the same.
The clock strikes 2.00 am.
Another day with the "Organisation" beckons.
This quagmire never ends.
I've been rather enchanted by a chinese song from a singaporean artist Gong Si Jia's Zai Yi Ci Yong You (loosely translated as "let me have it once again"). It's a song pining for lost love, but yet it strikes a chord with me with its lyrics about loss and how you would do anything, anything just to regain it.
Once again I trawl the Internet world aimlessly in the death of the night, resisting the urge to turn in for the night and hence face the next day. Some idle clicking led me to some of old classmates' blogs, which out of boredom decided to peruse them.
I shouldn't have.
Somehow their words, felt alien yet familiar. Some of them have gone on to different things, either studying overseas or in different army camps. They express their thoughts and emotions about their vastly different lives that I no longer play any significant part in. Once I was a classmate whom you could have canteen breaks with, borrow notes to copy from, have lunches in ghim moh or copy tutorials from; now perhaps I'm just relegated to being a saved contact on the handphone, a face in that school photo, or just a mere hazy memory.
Maybe they just forget me. But I know that is not true, as I myself have started to forget people. It's been a year since I left school for the big bad world, and I've lost touch with many, far too many. Sometimes I wonder how they're doing, but it's never more than a few seconds of curious thought, before my brain returns to stuff more immediate and direct.
This I got from a friend's blog about what I wore for prom in 2004.
"Zyang (my name i guess, great way of ensuring people don't google it) looked nothing but unglam in his sharked skin coloured suit courtesy of his dad. He didn't look like a shark but he did look like a fashion disaster. Horrible taste. However, that did not stop him from winning the 5th prize of a digital camera in the lucky draw, perhaps a good way of the glitzy night in mocking him by making him go up on stage."
Well if that friend of mine sees this, for the record I kinda agree with him. I'm just an idiot when it comes to dressing. So really since you spoke the truth there's really nothing for me to be upset about.
And well, a part of me is compelling me to defend myself as to why I chose that suit, yet another part of me tells me to let it go.
Reading blogs of others, especially those who are candid about people, really let you take a look at how people view you. When they say bad things about you, you may want to immediately defend yourself, try to justify your actions, as you feel that you as a person have been violated, but maybe sometimes it's the truth, which hurts bad.
Another thing I learned from reading blogs is that no matter how different our lives are now, we still share common problems and desires. We longed to be cherished, we get frustrated over things, we are saddened by loss, we hide our true selves from the world lest they try to hurt us, we lie, cheat, backstab to protect ourselves, we love or hate each other, we stare from afar those with seemingly perfect lives and sigh "why can't that be me?", we yearn for acceptance, we are all but the same.
The clock strikes 2.00 am.
Another day with the "Organisation" beckons.
This quagmire never ends.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Ode to the disenfranchised
Ever got the feeling the whole world has moved on and somehow you were inexplicably left behind?
There's this recurring vision, brought upon when you're sub conscious, as a result of having lucid dreams, where you're standing by an unknown river, wearing a cardigan and a scarf staring out in the distance, the city lights reflecting off the surface of the river. For a few, precious seconds, it would seem that the world would truly belong to you only, the maddening crowd far away from you, and a sense of calm would fall over you.
Then those fleeting moments of peace would be cruelly taken from you, the illusion shattered by your alarm clock screeching in your ear to get up and face another day. You wake not with trepidation, but with hope. Maybe today will be a good day.
You groggily get up and wash up, savouring the last few moments of that delightful dream, before shrugging it off as a mere dream and by the time you put on your clothes and rushed out of the door, you would have forgotten the bulk of that dream, mind now filled with thoughts about the coming day.
You immerse yourself in the hustle and bustle of work. It makes you feel important, as you try to effectively multi-task and do many areas of work at the same time. As 5 o'clock comes, you drag yourself out of your workplace, exhausted, perhaps due to work, but probably more likely due to the politicking you had to endure.
You walk past the blank faces of other people returning home from work. You glance at couples being all lovey-dovey, you react by quickening your step and looking away. Yet you secretly harbour hope that the next good looking guy or girl would somehow for some reason or another be besotted with you. You tsk at those youths wearing their school uniform disrespectfully while engaging in open displays of emotion for each while strolling down aimlessly orchard road when in your opinion they should be back home studying, yet you secretly lament the fact that you spent far too much time hitting the books and never had the chance to let loose somewhat. You hanker for those uncomplicated school days when all you worried about was studies and whether the girl/guy you had a crush on would like you.
You slow your footsteps. You can feel the energy swirling around the neighbouring mall, the business, the noise, the activity of it all; you don't want to go home so soon, you just want to stay behind, let the crowd take away some of the loneliness you feel. But you know such an act is hollow, as it just serves to artificially fill up the void in your heart. You tell yourself not to be such a weakling, that you should just suppress such feelings and head home, where more important chores like laundry await you. Yet, in the face of such irrefutable logic, you dally for that 5 minutes more, before turning your back to that soulless place.
Home is where the defences of the day come down, no more masks, no more make up, no more fake pretenses. You relax, put on some relaxing music, do your chores before settling down to perhaps watch a bit of TV, surf the net for a while, or read a book. Your eyes may be closing, your mind shutting down, every nerve fibre of your body asking to just lie upon that inviting bed and give yourself up to merciful slumber, but yet you refuse its advances, as you know once your eyes close for the last time today, when you open them again the same cycle of madness will repeat itself again, and despite your body's pleas you resist the urge to sleep, in a feeble attempt to put off the inevitable.
Then, when you finally surrender, you run through what happened today, and realise that chances are, tomorrow will be another carbon copy of today.
Then you ask yourself, why do I bother to get up then?
You answer your own question.
You bother to get up as tomorrow may be a better day than today.
Something good may happen to you tomorrow, who's to know?
Safe in that knowledge, you let your mind drift off again.
Next thing you know, yet another dream will be shattered by the screeching of the alarm clock.
Time to face another day.
You wake not with trepidation, but with hope.
Maybe today will be a better day.
Ever got the feeling the whole world has moved on and somehow you were inexplicably left behind?
There's this recurring vision, brought upon when you're sub conscious, as a result of having lucid dreams, where you're standing by an unknown river, wearing a cardigan and a scarf staring out in the distance, the city lights reflecting off the surface of the river. For a few, precious seconds, it would seem that the world would truly belong to you only, the maddening crowd far away from you, and a sense of calm would fall over you.
Then those fleeting moments of peace would be cruelly taken from you, the illusion shattered by your alarm clock screeching in your ear to get up and face another day. You wake not with trepidation, but with hope. Maybe today will be a good day.
You groggily get up and wash up, savouring the last few moments of that delightful dream, before shrugging it off as a mere dream and by the time you put on your clothes and rushed out of the door, you would have forgotten the bulk of that dream, mind now filled with thoughts about the coming day.
You immerse yourself in the hustle and bustle of work. It makes you feel important, as you try to effectively multi-task and do many areas of work at the same time. As 5 o'clock comes, you drag yourself out of your workplace, exhausted, perhaps due to work, but probably more likely due to the politicking you had to endure.
You walk past the blank faces of other people returning home from work. You glance at couples being all lovey-dovey, you react by quickening your step and looking away. Yet you secretly harbour hope that the next good looking guy or girl would somehow for some reason or another be besotted with you. You tsk at those youths wearing their school uniform disrespectfully while engaging in open displays of emotion for each while strolling down aimlessly orchard road when in your opinion they should be back home studying, yet you secretly lament the fact that you spent far too much time hitting the books and never had the chance to let loose somewhat. You hanker for those uncomplicated school days when all you worried about was studies and whether the girl/guy you had a crush on would like you.
You slow your footsteps. You can feel the energy swirling around the neighbouring mall, the business, the noise, the activity of it all; you don't want to go home so soon, you just want to stay behind, let the crowd take away some of the loneliness you feel. But you know such an act is hollow, as it just serves to artificially fill up the void in your heart. You tell yourself not to be such a weakling, that you should just suppress such feelings and head home, where more important chores like laundry await you. Yet, in the face of such irrefutable logic, you dally for that 5 minutes more, before turning your back to that soulless place.
Home is where the defences of the day come down, no more masks, no more make up, no more fake pretenses. You relax, put on some relaxing music, do your chores before settling down to perhaps watch a bit of TV, surf the net for a while, or read a book. Your eyes may be closing, your mind shutting down, every nerve fibre of your body asking to just lie upon that inviting bed and give yourself up to merciful slumber, but yet you refuse its advances, as you know once your eyes close for the last time today, when you open them again the same cycle of madness will repeat itself again, and despite your body's pleas you resist the urge to sleep, in a feeble attempt to put off the inevitable.
Then, when you finally surrender, you run through what happened today, and realise that chances are, tomorrow will be another carbon copy of today.
Then you ask yourself, why do I bother to get up then?
You answer your own question.
You bother to get up as tomorrow may be a better day than today.
Something good may happen to you tomorrow, who's to know?
Safe in that knowledge, you let your mind drift off again.
Next thing you know, yet another dream will be shattered by the screeching of the alarm clock.
Time to face another day.
You wake not with trepidation, but with hope.
Maybe today will be a better day.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Free
By Corrine May
I see the morning glory
It winds upon the tree
It tells the untold story of how things were meant to be
You saw the universe
Caught up in desperate dreams
You came and changed the ending
Changed it to save my fate
You led the revolution
You left your legacy
Embraced the struggle
in the face of mortality
I know I'm not alone in this
Help me believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
It's still the same old story
This great divide
Between the want and waste
And all the hunger inside
I heard the news today
Now I'm trying to find my place
I'm just a single voice
What can I do to erase
All this misunderstanding
All this anarchy
Six degrees of separation
Sometimes it's so hard to see
That we are not alone in this
I need to believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
Somehow i can empathise with this song greatly. Must be the plight I'm in now. I spent my 16 hour flights to and from canada listening to corrine may's safe in a crazy world and trying to drift off to a blissful, dreamless sleep.
Strangely enough, the song has a strong message of hope despite its rather depressing tone. Perhaps the reason why I'm so enamoured with it could be due to its eventual hopeful nature. That elusive light at the end of that often very dark and endless tunnel. The helping hand when you're down in the dumps.
Well, enough musing. There's another dark tunnel to go through tomorrow.
I wonder who remembers this time around...
By Corrine May
I see the morning glory
It winds upon the tree
It tells the untold story of how things were meant to be
You saw the universe
Caught up in desperate dreams
You came and changed the ending
Changed it to save my fate
You led the revolution
You left your legacy
Embraced the struggle
in the face of mortality
I know I'm not alone in this
Help me believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
It's still the same old story
This great divide
Between the want and waste
And all the hunger inside
I heard the news today
Now I'm trying to find my place
I'm just a single voice
What can I do to erase
All this misunderstanding
All this anarchy
Six degrees of separation
Sometimes it's so hard to see
That we are not alone in this
I need to believe
I can be free
I can be free from this place
Beautiful healer
Beautiful grace
Help me to see
Everything fall into place
Wake me from dreaming
No more deceiving
Break these chains
Somehow i can empathise with this song greatly. Must be the plight I'm in now. I spent my 16 hour flights to and from canada listening to corrine may's safe in a crazy world and trying to drift off to a blissful, dreamless sleep.
Strangely enough, the song has a strong message of hope despite its rather depressing tone. Perhaps the reason why I'm so enamoured with it could be due to its eventual hopeful nature. That elusive light at the end of that often very dark and endless tunnel. The helping hand when you're down in the dumps.
Well, enough musing. There's another dark tunnel to go through tomorrow.
I wonder who remembers this time around...
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Out in the cold
He hated lip balm.
He hated the sticky feeling it left on his lips, which caused him to subconsciously open his mouth ever so wide, thus making him look horrendous in photos. He hated the taste of it, the stain it leaves when he drank from cups, the strong smell of mint it gave off.
And most of all, he hated the trouble it causes, having to apply it all the time, lest he wants his sensitive lips to crack while on holiday in temperate Canada.
And yet now here he was, standing out in the frigid cold, applying copious amounts of lip balm on his dry lips, and for once not complaining mentally about how uneasy it made him feel.
He wrapped his jacket him closer as another gust of cold wind blew past him. Strangely enough, his body shivered, but his mind did not feel the cold, it hardly even acknowledged its presence, instead he cast his eyes over the railing and moved towards it. He rested his elbows on the railing and looked across the river to the other side, where the bright lights of the city sparkled and shined. From his vantage point, he could not feel the hustle and bustle of the big city, instead the city lights reflecting off the ruffled surface of the river gave him a calm feeling which served to calm his nerves somewhat.
He fished the paper from his right pocket out. Written neatly on that piece of hotel paper were the words, “Meet me at the Riverside at 12 midnight” (The Riverside was a part of the hotel which allowed patrons to view the riverside) It was unsigned, and it was slipped under his hotel room door around 11 p.m. He only noticed it when he came out of the bathroom after his bath, and first thought it was just a prank and wanted to dismiss it, but an inexplicable feeling came over him, convincing him to just go and meet this mysterious person. So instead of hopping into bed, he got dressed and there he was now, shivering in the cold.
He glanced at his watch. 0002H. Maybe it was a hoax after all, a method to trick unsuspecting and gullible tourists like him of precious sleep. Maybe it was a left over note that was never cleared. Maybe it was placed through the wrong door.
In the death of the night, there was no one at the balcony but him. Still, he thought, even if it was just a prank, he managed to look at the magnificent cityscape in the night. Sighing, he rested his head in his cupped palms and slumping against the cold railing. Like many times when he saw breathtaking sights like these, he would invariably think, “Wish I could share this sight with someone else.”
“Hey.”
It was so sudden, so out of the blue that he didn’t react immediately. He merely dismissed it as his lonely heart trying to strike up a conversation with his sub-consciousness to get rid of the deafening silence. So he merely just turned towards the direction he thought it came from, and stopped cold.
The voice belonged to the girl in his tour group.
She stood at the entrance of the Riverside, smiling.
“Hey.” She repeated.
He could only numbly say “Hello” in return.
There were a million thoughts swimming around in his head, but oddly enough, the thought that dominated his brain was, “She’s beautiful.”
Her shoulder length hair was untied, unlike in the day during the tour, where she keeps her hair in a neat ponytail. She had pretty brown eyes, those that emote extremely depending on her mood. He saw them light up in joy when she found the souveneir she wanted in the gift shop, glower fiercely at the stranger who was rude to her, and cloud over with concern when she momentarily thought her younger brother was lost when he actually went back to the coach before her.
She had dainty hands, fair complexion and a radiant smile. She had the girl next door innocence, but yet she exudes a quiet confidence and independence, being the eldest of three siblings. She had come along this trip with her parents and her siblings, and she acted mostly as a responsible elder sister, keeping watch on her siblings and having fun with them. She was also of a gregarious and cheerful personality, as evidenced by the fact she would always help the elderly of out tour group carry their luggage.
In short, she was someone way out his reach. He only looked at her from afar on a few occasions, but never actually taken the effort to engage with her in conversation. Everytime he tried, her parents or siblings would be in attendance and he would lose the courage before slinking away deflated.
And yet she was here, in the flesh, in front of him, untied hair swaying in the wind, her eyes staring into his, hands behind her back.
It must be some dream, he thought.
I don’t even know her name!, he thought.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
She was still there.
Deciding that maybe this was real, a bolt of realisation hit him. He managed to sputter out, “The note…it was you?”
She gave a chuckle, looked away for a while before turning back and smiling at him. He felt his knees weaken. Suddenly he wondered why did the place feel so hot. He smiled nervously back.
She bowed her head and took three steps forward, then she looked into his eyes again.
“I have noticed you looking at me over these few days.” She said.
His mind exploded in a mess of frantic thoughts. Deny adamantly? Admit and see what happens? Or act blur? A flash of panic came over him, which escalated each time she walked closer to him. She was now face to face with him, so much so he could smell her fragrance, gaze deeper into those mesmerising eyes of hers, feel the heat from her body. Bizarrely, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight, perhaps in a vain attempt to try and protect her from the harsh cold temperatures.
“I… I…” was all he managed to say, before she silenced him with a finger to his lips. He was thoroughly confused now, not to mention very flustered.
The next thing he knew, he felt her warm lips on his; they placed themselves ever so softly on them, a moment which lasted merely a second, yet felt like a century for him. In that short, wonderful instant, it was no longer night, it was the brightest of days, all other thought were gone from his mind, all was left was a longing for the moment to never end.
But it did, and the world swam into reality again. He looked at her face. She wore a shy look, her face blushing slightly, perhaps due to the cold and what she just did. She went back to staring at the ground again.
Then she reached out and grabbed his right hand softly, her dainty hands felt like the purest of silk on his. She placed her palm over his, leaving a note behind before closing his fist for him. She gave him one more smile, before turning away from him and started to walk slowly away, back to the entrance.
The wind still tugged on her hair as she, according to him, floated away from him slowly.
Dumbfounded, he looked at the paper in his hand. Written in the same neat handwriting on the same type of hotel paper were these simple words.
Call me when we return to Singapore. 96578254
He stared at that piece of paper for a full second. Then he called out to her.
“Hey!”
She stood at the exit, door open and one foot inside, ready to enter.
“At least tell me your name.”
She smiled.
He was now of the opinion that she had the greatest smile on Earth.
“Christine.”
And then she was gone, the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone. Yet again.
Dumbly, he felt his lips and remembered the moment they just shared.
He never hated lip balm again.
Please note that this account is a work of fiction and it does not mean that such an incident or anything similar happened to me. It was something inspired by my trip when I looked out of the window of my hotel room when I couldn't sleep at 2 am in the morning canadian time due to jet lag. Hope you guys enjoyed.
He hated lip balm.
He hated the sticky feeling it left on his lips, which caused him to subconsciously open his mouth ever so wide, thus making him look horrendous in photos. He hated the taste of it, the stain it leaves when he drank from cups, the strong smell of mint it gave off.
And most of all, he hated the trouble it causes, having to apply it all the time, lest he wants his sensitive lips to crack while on holiday in temperate Canada.
And yet now here he was, standing out in the frigid cold, applying copious amounts of lip balm on his dry lips, and for once not complaining mentally about how uneasy it made him feel.
He wrapped his jacket him closer as another gust of cold wind blew past him. Strangely enough, his body shivered, but his mind did not feel the cold, it hardly even acknowledged its presence, instead he cast his eyes over the railing and moved towards it. He rested his elbows on the railing and looked across the river to the other side, where the bright lights of the city sparkled and shined. From his vantage point, he could not feel the hustle and bustle of the big city, instead the city lights reflecting off the ruffled surface of the river gave him a calm feeling which served to calm his nerves somewhat.
He fished the paper from his right pocket out. Written neatly on that piece of hotel paper were the words, “Meet me at the Riverside at 12 midnight” (The Riverside was a part of the hotel which allowed patrons to view the riverside) It was unsigned, and it was slipped under his hotel room door around 11 p.m. He only noticed it when he came out of the bathroom after his bath, and first thought it was just a prank and wanted to dismiss it, but an inexplicable feeling came over him, convincing him to just go and meet this mysterious person. So instead of hopping into bed, he got dressed and there he was now, shivering in the cold.
He glanced at his watch. 0002H. Maybe it was a hoax after all, a method to trick unsuspecting and gullible tourists like him of precious sleep. Maybe it was a left over note that was never cleared. Maybe it was placed through the wrong door.
In the death of the night, there was no one at the balcony but him. Still, he thought, even if it was just a prank, he managed to look at the magnificent cityscape in the night. Sighing, he rested his head in his cupped palms and slumping against the cold railing. Like many times when he saw breathtaking sights like these, he would invariably think, “Wish I could share this sight with someone else.”
“Hey.”
It was so sudden, so out of the blue that he didn’t react immediately. He merely dismissed it as his lonely heart trying to strike up a conversation with his sub-consciousness to get rid of the deafening silence. So he merely just turned towards the direction he thought it came from, and stopped cold.
The voice belonged to the girl in his tour group.
She stood at the entrance of the Riverside, smiling.
“Hey.” She repeated.
He could only numbly say “Hello” in return.
There were a million thoughts swimming around in his head, but oddly enough, the thought that dominated his brain was, “She’s beautiful.”
Her shoulder length hair was untied, unlike in the day during the tour, where she keeps her hair in a neat ponytail. She had pretty brown eyes, those that emote extremely depending on her mood. He saw them light up in joy when she found the souveneir she wanted in the gift shop, glower fiercely at the stranger who was rude to her, and cloud over with concern when she momentarily thought her younger brother was lost when he actually went back to the coach before her.
She had dainty hands, fair complexion and a radiant smile. She had the girl next door innocence, but yet she exudes a quiet confidence and independence, being the eldest of three siblings. She had come along this trip with her parents and her siblings, and she acted mostly as a responsible elder sister, keeping watch on her siblings and having fun with them. She was also of a gregarious and cheerful personality, as evidenced by the fact she would always help the elderly of out tour group carry their luggage.
In short, she was someone way out his reach. He only looked at her from afar on a few occasions, but never actually taken the effort to engage with her in conversation. Everytime he tried, her parents or siblings would be in attendance and he would lose the courage before slinking away deflated.
And yet she was here, in the flesh, in front of him, untied hair swaying in the wind, her eyes staring into his, hands behind her back.
It must be some dream, he thought.
I don’t even know her name!, he thought.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
She was still there.
Deciding that maybe this was real, a bolt of realisation hit him. He managed to sputter out, “The note…it was you?”
She gave a chuckle, looked away for a while before turning back and smiling at him. He felt his knees weaken. Suddenly he wondered why did the place feel so hot. He smiled nervously back.
She bowed her head and took three steps forward, then she looked into his eyes again.
“I have noticed you looking at me over these few days.” She said.
His mind exploded in a mess of frantic thoughts. Deny adamantly? Admit and see what happens? Or act blur? A flash of panic came over him, which escalated each time she walked closer to him. She was now face to face with him, so much so he could smell her fragrance, gaze deeper into those mesmerising eyes of hers, feel the heat from her body. Bizarrely, he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight, perhaps in a vain attempt to try and protect her from the harsh cold temperatures.
“I… I…” was all he managed to say, before she silenced him with a finger to his lips. He was thoroughly confused now, not to mention very flustered.
The next thing he knew, he felt her warm lips on his; they placed themselves ever so softly on them, a moment which lasted merely a second, yet felt like a century for him. In that short, wonderful instant, it was no longer night, it was the brightest of days, all other thought were gone from his mind, all was left was a longing for the moment to never end.
But it did, and the world swam into reality again. He looked at her face. She wore a shy look, her face blushing slightly, perhaps due to the cold and what she just did. She went back to staring at the ground again.
Then she reached out and grabbed his right hand softly, her dainty hands felt like the purest of silk on his. She placed her palm over his, leaving a note behind before closing his fist for him. She gave him one more smile, before turning away from him and started to walk slowly away, back to the entrance.
The wind still tugged on her hair as she, according to him, floated away from him slowly.
Dumbfounded, he looked at the paper in his hand. Written in the same neat handwriting on the same type of hotel paper were these simple words.
Call me when we return to Singapore. 96578254
He stared at that piece of paper for a full second. Then he called out to her.
“Hey!”
She stood at the exit, door open and one foot inside, ready to enter.
“At least tell me your name.”
She smiled.
He was now of the opinion that she had the greatest smile on Earth.
“Christine.”
And then she was gone, the door swung shut behind her, leaving him alone. Yet again.
Dumbly, he felt his lips and remembered the moment they just shared.
He never hated lip balm again.
Please note that this account is a work of fiction and it does not mean that such an incident or anything similar happened to me. It was something inspired by my trip when I looked out of the window of my hotel room when I couldn't sleep at 2 am in the morning canadian time due to jet lag. Hope you guys enjoyed.
Monday, December 19, 2005
The twilight road to dawn
Well guys, I know I'm very guilty of not keeping this place updated regularly that I'm sure no one reads it now, which is sort of a boon I guess so those nosy people from the "organisation" will not find out of my alternative views and send me off to do regimental training for a long long time... In any case, I just came back from a trip to canada, 11 days spent mostly in the coach sleeping off the jetlag, frigid winds of temperatures ranging from -26 to 10 degrees, ice skating and landing on my butt heavily a lot of times, family bonding that bordered on the dysfunctional, but above all a break from the tiresome routines of my usual life.
And all good things must come to an end, and it did, and now I'm back to what it used to be.
Well, it's going to be christmas again, the most depressing time of the year for people like me who don't have anyone to look at the christmas lights with, which incidentally is merely 2 streets away from my home and I've yet to look at them.
Nevertheless, I should welcome the new year in the company of good friends, and with my birthday coming up, it promises to be a good 2006. Bring it on. Come november, it'll be freedom...
Well guys, I know I'm very guilty of not keeping this place updated regularly that I'm sure no one reads it now, which is sort of a boon I guess so those nosy people from the "organisation" will not find out of my alternative views and send me off to do regimental training for a long long time... In any case, I just came back from a trip to canada, 11 days spent mostly in the coach sleeping off the jetlag, frigid winds of temperatures ranging from -26 to 10 degrees, ice skating and landing on my butt heavily a lot of times, family bonding that bordered on the dysfunctional, but above all a break from the tiresome routines of my usual life.
And all good things must come to an end, and it did, and now I'm back to what it used to be.
Well, it's going to be christmas again, the most depressing time of the year for people like me who don't have anyone to look at the christmas lights with, which incidentally is merely 2 streets away from my home and I've yet to look at them.
Nevertheless, I should welcome the new year in the company of good friends, and with my birthday coming up, it promises to be a good 2006. Bring it on. Come november, it'll be freedom...
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Here's to everything else
First off, the rumors of my demise have been rather exaggerated, but I don't think I can say the same about my readership, if I had any in the first place.
Been rather unwilling to blog, as the desire to whine about the quagmire I'm in is far too great. However, relax, I shall refrain from doing so in this entry.
Been reading my old entries in my blog, laughing at some and almost hemorrhaging at some. It's been a 180 degree change for me since then. Those far more carefree days where I only worried about homework. Yes, I feel considerably less stress now, but I also feel less drive as well. The desire to go out there to grab the day by the scruff of the neck and make it worthwhile getting out of bed is non-existent. Perhaps the only redeeming quality of my situation is the fact I get to pick the brains of professionals and actually learn something instead of just rotting my two years away.
A short update on my life. Still in that medical centre, but things are a changing, what with new management and new rules. I just hope some stuff remain status quo, while the not so pleasant stuff get consigned to the dustbin of lousy ideas. But it's a bit hard to expect much, we all know the speed of change, especially positive change, is slower than molasses on a cold day in the "Organisation". (I've taken to using such "terms" lest I incur the wrath of higher ranking people who I frankly don't give a damn about but have the unfortunate ability to punish me for my rather alternative views.)
It's been quite a year. Thinking back, I've grown up faster in this 1 year than my previous 18. That I give the "organisation" credit, but I doubt they went out of their way to do so. They dragged many in, some kicking and screaming, some with resignation, some all too eager. I think I fall under the 2nd catergory.
I think I've grown more selfish along the way. Let me rephrase that, I have become more protective of myself. I've come to realise you can friendly with someone, and that person maybe your friend, but you still have look out for yourself and not expect him to do so as he'll be doing that for himself as well. And even he does, He has his own interests at heart that's why he's doing so. Not precisely what we all want to hear, but it's saddeningly true. I've been played out by a few people before, but I've grown wiser now.
I'm rather lucky I can go home when I'm off duty. Singyong has just been packed off to thailand for a whooping 9 months. I can't just imagine myself eating, sleeping and breathing the "organisation" 24/7 for 9 months. They might as well lock me up in an asylum. At least if I had a crappy day, I can still go home and sleep on my own bed and relax away and not having to worry if a rat will come to nibble on my toes or if some guy who's not supposed to be in the medical centre will break into my locker and steal my wallet.
Slightly less than a year before I'll be released from my service. It is my utmost hope that the coming year will peter out with nary a significant incident, with no one from the organisation bothering me too much, and I'll spend my free time on my edification, so come 071106 I'll be ready for my next challenge.
And of course, here comes the inevitable resolution to blog more often as well. All those taking A/O levels, good luck!
First off, the rumors of my demise have been rather exaggerated, but I don't think I can say the same about my readership, if I had any in the first place.
Been rather unwilling to blog, as the desire to whine about the quagmire I'm in is far too great. However, relax, I shall refrain from doing so in this entry.
Been reading my old entries in my blog, laughing at some and almost hemorrhaging at some. It's been a 180 degree change for me since then. Those far more carefree days where I only worried about homework. Yes, I feel considerably less stress now, but I also feel less drive as well. The desire to go out there to grab the day by the scruff of the neck and make it worthwhile getting out of bed is non-existent. Perhaps the only redeeming quality of my situation is the fact I get to pick the brains of professionals and actually learn something instead of just rotting my two years away.
A short update on my life. Still in that medical centre, but things are a changing, what with new management and new rules. I just hope some stuff remain status quo, while the not so pleasant stuff get consigned to the dustbin of lousy ideas. But it's a bit hard to expect much, we all know the speed of change, especially positive change, is slower than molasses on a cold day in the "Organisation". (I've taken to using such "terms" lest I incur the wrath of higher ranking people who I frankly don't give a damn about but have the unfortunate ability to punish me for my rather alternative views.)
It's been quite a year. Thinking back, I've grown up faster in this 1 year than my previous 18. That I give the "organisation" credit, but I doubt they went out of their way to do so. They dragged many in, some kicking and screaming, some with resignation, some all too eager. I think I fall under the 2nd catergory.
I think I've grown more selfish along the way. Let me rephrase that, I have become more protective of myself. I've come to realise you can friendly with someone, and that person maybe your friend, but you still have look out for yourself and not expect him to do so as he'll be doing that for himself as well. And even he does, He has his own interests at heart that's why he's doing so. Not precisely what we all want to hear, but it's saddeningly true. I've been played out by a few people before, but I've grown wiser now.
I'm rather lucky I can go home when I'm off duty. Singyong has just been packed off to thailand for a whooping 9 months. I can't just imagine myself eating, sleeping and breathing the "organisation" 24/7 for 9 months. They might as well lock me up in an asylum. At least if I had a crappy day, I can still go home and sleep on my own bed and relax away and not having to worry if a rat will come to nibble on my toes or if some guy who's not supposed to be in the medical centre will break into my locker and steal my wallet.
Slightly less than a year before I'll be released from my service. It is my utmost hope that the coming year will peter out with nary a significant incident, with no one from the organisation bothering me too much, and I'll spend my free time on my edification, so come 071106 I'll be ready for my next challenge.
And of course, here comes the inevitable resolution to blog more often as well. All those taking A/O levels, good luck!
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
10 years from now
Ok, yet another project started then ultimately abandoned. I realise it's quite hard for me to sustain interest in writing nowadays. Nevertheless, this piece, produced in around 2 hours i think, well the guys would get the in-jokes, the rest of the world would probably wonder what the hell I'm writng about.
The letter came two days later, like they said it would. Mix up at the post office was the cause, same reason every year why he always receive Christmas cards from them on the 26th. It was white, plain, edges were yellowed, probably picked up in bulk during a closing down sale of some stationary shop. Scrawled on the letter using a cheap ball point pen which has seen many a major exam, the ink not running smoothly on the surface, instead hard pressure marks marred the surface, were his name, his present address that hasn’t changed for 10 years, and the notable addition of the title “mister” in front of his name. The letter held a triple folded letter, which presented quite officially, what with the school’s address and emblem on the right, and the group’s emblem on the left. He smiled wryly to myself, they must be still using the same format since our time. I guess it’s good to know that some things don’t change with time, even if it is just something as insignificant as a letter’s format.
The content of the letter was as simple as its appearance, besides he knew what it was about way before hand anyway. They always kept him informed about such gatherings, and something as important as their 10th anniversary would have been announced way before hand to accommodate their busy schedules. The letter served merely as a formality, a way to subtly remind the absent-minded. They needn’t have worried though, the date was long marked out on his calendar and he wasn’t intending to miss the gathering for the world.
He placed the letter down, pressed the button for the intercom and asked his secretary to RSVP for me immediately. Flipping the letter open once again, the white sheet of paper was glimmering in the strong mid day sun that flooded his office, but the black and white emblem seemed to dance with energy in the brilliant light; it seemed to be delighted to find that this sheep has decided to return to its fold.
The emblem seemed to beckon to him, like it wanted him to remember the times of yesteryear, the times of reckless youth and strong brotherhood, of grazed knees and broken hearts, of hikes in the pouring rain or push ups at 6 am in the morning. The impulse to revisit those times again was strangely strong, like a distant echo was resounding in his head, leading him on.
He subconsciously reached for the phone, but withdrew his hand halfway. Somehow he felt this was a journey down memory lane he had to go down himself.
The location hasn’t changed, but the interior was drastically different. He had been here a few times before for previous gatherings, and always looked on with a profound sense of loss whenever another part of his time here was destroyed and replaced with newer, alien buildings. Another sign of the waves of change, old fogies like himself who hold on to the past too much shouldn’t be allowed to witness such callous disregard to a person’s memories.
He found the old gathering place, but it was now nothing but a musty storeroom, with a menacing “Do not enter” sign pasted on the door. The coat of uneven green that was applied during his time was peeling, its old lustre had faded, the emblem which used to be placed proudly on the door was absent. The lock which required a bit of finger gymnastics to open, the chin up bar wrapped in tape which he hardly used as he in his delusion deemed himself too tall to use it, were gone as well.
A yell shook him out of his thoughts. A stern looking portly security guard came racing towards him on a bicycle, stopping inches away from a head-on collision, and proceeded to aggressively accuse him of trying to enter the storeroom and stealing all the precious things the group’s storeroom has to offer. And as a final volley, he gleefully said he intended to report this incident to the headmaster and he’ll, quote unquote, “be in big trouble”.
Chuckling to himself, he concocted some story about being a special consultant hired by the group to give them a talk and got lost finding their adobe. Having smooth talked his way out of trouble, he set a course for the group’s new den, after receiving directions from the notably disappointed security guard, who grunted loudly and rode off on his bicycle, muttering incomprehensible but aggressive sounding words, no doubt setting off in hope of finding prey that would be more easily intimidated.
He smiled to himself again. Looks like another thing that hasn’t changed was the school’s penchant for hiring overweight grumpy security guards who patrolled the school on bicycles threatening everyone with a personal audience with the headmaster.
He found the place. It was spacious; the smell of new paint was still strong. As it was a late weekday afternoon, there were just a small gathering of students there, the younger ones in white shorts playing carrom; the older ones listening to the music blasting from the hi-fi while doing homework. They were hesitant about letting him enter at first, as the rule about not letting non-members in still stood, but he quickly identified himself and said he was here just to look for something.
He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to look for, nor whether whatever he was looking for could be found here anymore. He was looking for memories, how does one go about looking for something so nebulous? For the first time since the impulse to be here seemed to be waste of time, looking for something long gone.
Sure enough, he found nothing. Everything he turned up was far too new, too modern for him. The photos had unknown faces, the people participated in new activities, even the names of the patrols we used to be in have been altered. Maybe it was a meant to be a fruitless trip after all.
But somehow he sensed that he was looking in the wrong places. The white washed walls of this new and spacious den carried the vibes of the new generation but none of the echoes of the past. To find what he wanted he had to return to where it was the last time.
He got the quartermaster to open the old den, and entered it with a flashlight. The layout was strangely the same, the sofas however were more torn, the message board bare, where once there was a rickety table is now a pile of codemned stores like broken tent pegs, torn A-frames and rusted mess tins.
He stood on a chair and opened the upper cupboards, where they used to be held. Strangely enough, those tomes of yesteryear, some yellowed, some faded, some bitten away by insects but still mostly intact, lay there, a thick film of dust covering each and every one of them. He took one of them, dusted it down, tested the sofa to see whether it could still take his weight, before sinking into it, allowing the memories to come back to him.
Ok, yet another project started then ultimately abandoned. I realise it's quite hard for me to sustain interest in writing nowadays. Nevertheless, this piece, produced in around 2 hours i think, well the guys would get the in-jokes, the rest of the world would probably wonder what the hell I'm writng about.
The letter came two days later, like they said it would. Mix up at the post office was the cause, same reason every year why he always receive Christmas cards from them on the 26th. It was white, plain, edges were yellowed, probably picked up in bulk during a closing down sale of some stationary shop. Scrawled on the letter using a cheap ball point pen which has seen many a major exam, the ink not running smoothly on the surface, instead hard pressure marks marred the surface, were his name, his present address that hasn’t changed for 10 years, and the notable addition of the title “mister” in front of his name. The letter held a triple folded letter, which presented quite officially, what with the school’s address and emblem on the right, and the group’s emblem on the left. He smiled wryly to myself, they must be still using the same format since our time. I guess it’s good to know that some things don’t change with time, even if it is just something as insignificant as a letter’s format.
The content of the letter was as simple as its appearance, besides he knew what it was about way before hand anyway. They always kept him informed about such gatherings, and something as important as their 10th anniversary would have been announced way before hand to accommodate their busy schedules. The letter served merely as a formality, a way to subtly remind the absent-minded. They needn’t have worried though, the date was long marked out on his calendar and he wasn’t intending to miss the gathering for the world.
He placed the letter down, pressed the button for the intercom and asked his secretary to RSVP for me immediately. Flipping the letter open once again, the white sheet of paper was glimmering in the strong mid day sun that flooded his office, but the black and white emblem seemed to dance with energy in the brilliant light; it seemed to be delighted to find that this sheep has decided to return to its fold.
The emblem seemed to beckon to him, like it wanted him to remember the times of yesteryear, the times of reckless youth and strong brotherhood, of grazed knees and broken hearts, of hikes in the pouring rain or push ups at 6 am in the morning. The impulse to revisit those times again was strangely strong, like a distant echo was resounding in his head, leading him on.
He subconsciously reached for the phone, but withdrew his hand halfway. Somehow he felt this was a journey down memory lane he had to go down himself.
The location hasn’t changed, but the interior was drastically different. He had been here a few times before for previous gatherings, and always looked on with a profound sense of loss whenever another part of his time here was destroyed and replaced with newer, alien buildings. Another sign of the waves of change, old fogies like himself who hold on to the past too much shouldn’t be allowed to witness such callous disregard to a person’s memories.
He found the old gathering place, but it was now nothing but a musty storeroom, with a menacing “Do not enter” sign pasted on the door. The coat of uneven green that was applied during his time was peeling, its old lustre had faded, the emblem which used to be placed proudly on the door was absent. The lock which required a bit of finger gymnastics to open, the chin up bar wrapped in tape which he hardly used as he in his delusion deemed himself too tall to use it, were gone as well.
A yell shook him out of his thoughts. A stern looking portly security guard came racing towards him on a bicycle, stopping inches away from a head-on collision, and proceeded to aggressively accuse him of trying to enter the storeroom and stealing all the precious things the group’s storeroom has to offer. And as a final volley, he gleefully said he intended to report this incident to the headmaster and he’ll, quote unquote, “be in big trouble”.
Chuckling to himself, he concocted some story about being a special consultant hired by the group to give them a talk and got lost finding their adobe. Having smooth talked his way out of trouble, he set a course for the group’s new den, after receiving directions from the notably disappointed security guard, who grunted loudly and rode off on his bicycle, muttering incomprehensible but aggressive sounding words, no doubt setting off in hope of finding prey that would be more easily intimidated.
He smiled to himself again. Looks like another thing that hasn’t changed was the school’s penchant for hiring overweight grumpy security guards who patrolled the school on bicycles threatening everyone with a personal audience with the headmaster.
He found the place. It was spacious; the smell of new paint was still strong. As it was a late weekday afternoon, there were just a small gathering of students there, the younger ones in white shorts playing carrom; the older ones listening to the music blasting from the hi-fi while doing homework. They were hesitant about letting him enter at first, as the rule about not letting non-members in still stood, but he quickly identified himself and said he was here just to look for something.
He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to look for, nor whether whatever he was looking for could be found here anymore. He was looking for memories, how does one go about looking for something so nebulous? For the first time since the impulse to be here seemed to be waste of time, looking for something long gone.
Sure enough, he found nothing. Everything he turned up was far too new, too modern for him. The photos had unknown faces, the people participated in new activities, even the names of the patrols we used to be in have been altered. Maybe it was a meant to be a fruitless trip after all.
But somehow he sensed that he was looking in the wrong places. The white washed walls of this new and spacious den carried the vibes of the new generation but none of the echoes of the past. To find what he wanted he had to return to where it was the last time.
He got the quartermaster to open the old den, and entered it with a flashlight. The layout was strangely the same, the sofas however were more torn, the message board bare, where once there was a rickety table is now a pile of codemned stores like broken tent pegs, torn A-frames and rusted mess tins.
He stood on a chair and opened the upper cupboards, where they used to be held. Strangely enough, those tomes of yesteryear, some yellowed, some faded, some bitten away by insects but still mostly intact, lay there, a thick film of dust covering each and every one of them. He took one of them, dusted it down, tested the sofa to see whether it could still take his weight, before sinking into it, allowing the memories to come back to him.
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