the sights and sounds on a snowy night

I took a nice long walk from Waterloo to Marble Arch one winter evening. In the freezing cold. Armed with my trusty Primark scarf and Ralph Lauren snow hat. Oh, and my 'Made in China' leather gloves - the nicest-looking things gifted by the nicest person I know. I've never really done a solo walk like this before, not in London at least. Cos it seems pretty sad, and lonely, roaming about aimlessly on your own. But a friend recently did it, twice actually, and told me that it felt really good. So I decided to give it a go. What's the fun in binging night after night anyway? Also, I had been cooped up in the halls for more than 24hours, down with fever, flu, sore throat - the usual shit. I needed to get out. Even if that meant that I would die of hypothermia on the streets like some hobo.

I pick up the Evening Standard. First 5 pages are all about the unexpected snowfall and how it has disrupted the lives of many Londoners. Closed schools. Delayed trains. Trapped commuters. One would think that last February's events would have prepared the city for the worst. Apparently not. Well, good for the school kids then. I look up from the paper, distracted by a stumpy-looking punk trying to hit on a decent looking lady. Nothing really wrong with that. But the conversation is pretty sad, albeit slightly entertaining for me. It goes roughly like this:

Stumpy: Hey there, would you know if this train heads to London Bridge?
Lady: Hmm.. I don't really know. Sorry.
Stumpy: Are you sure? Does it really not go? I need to get to London Bridge.
Lady: There's a rail map right there. It'll tell you. (looks at the map). Oh yes, it does.
Stumpy: And how do I get back to this station from there?
Lady: (blank look)
(Tube arrives and saves the lady.)

Failed attempt at conversation. But hey, at least he tried.

Tube reaches my destination. I start walking. I realise that I've never actually seen the Westminster area after dusk before. If I do go out in the night, it's usually to the binge spots. Or to some performing arts venue at the West End. Or to Zones 5 or 6. Or to the kebab stands. Or to St Paul's - my favorite building in the whole of London. I stop to admire the Big Ben. It's gorgeous how the clock face seems to magically illuminate the whole tower to paint a picture of artistic serenity in a borough known mainly for politics. A couple of Asian tourists (Yeah, I'm SO not one of 'em) start taking pictures. I follow suit. But my attempts fail miserably. I don't own a friggin DSLR, you see.

I continue walking. Then it suddenly occurs to me that I'm still sick. And that my fever's coming back. Not a good thing at all, considering that the temperature's in the vicinity of ZERO. I feel my heart palpitating. It seems to be slowing down actually. I comically think that I'm going to die - The Straits Times headline: "SMU exchange student dies in freak weather at Westminster" flashes across my mind. Ok maybe not.

I spot Macs and head in for hot chocolate. There's a dude there, standing around suspiciously. The moment I get my drink, he approaches me and asks for the stamp on my cup. You get a free drink when you collect 6. I'm tempted to say that I'm collecting too. Then for some reason, I think of 'The Pursuit of Happyness'. He kinda looks like Will Smith (alright, he was black). He probably needs the free drink more than me. Might even have a hungry son waiting outside. So I give it to him. He seems grateful, and he goes off.

Trafalgar Square. Lots seem to be happening here. Some carolers in front of the huge Norwegian Christmas tree catch my attention. Quite a bit of snickering going on in the audience. The lead female voice is out of tune. But that's not it. The lead is actually a male in his 30s. I stay for awhile. I've never heard a castrato before. As I take my leave, an Indian girl approaches me. She's from the WWF and goes on and on about wild life conservation, how the polar caps are melting and how I should commit my support in the form of an email address. An overgrown Husky comes by. I exclaim at the size of the dog. She corrects me and says that it's a wolf. She goes on about how different dogs and wolves are for about 30 seconds. Then she asks the owner. It's a dog.

I see a protest going on with a number of banners with headings like "Copenhagen", and "Give Us Our Future". How cool is that. I've never seen a protest of any sort before so I go nearer and take some shots inconspicuously. I want to join them for the fun of it, but it's too cold. And also cos I'm wearing leather gloves.

Oxford Street. It truly feels like Christmas. Everyone's doing last minute shopping. The lights and deco glimmer in the icy night. A little snow on the ground. Lots of snow on the passing cars. Brass band playing outside Mark & Spenser's. Poor old ladies siting outside large department stores trying their luck at emotional blackmail. But, alas, the spirit of giving is not as compelling as the spirit of buying. Me? I have my hands full of winter clothing I have just bought for my family so I can't reach in for spare change. -_-

Marble Arch. I spot a drug store. I need to get medication for my wretched flu and fever anyway so I head in. I see a dude about my age trying to look invisible as he picks up his purchases. He seems to be getting condoms. Big deal. But no. Being the busybody that I am, I look closer. I think I see the word 'VIAGRA'. Sucks to be you, buddy.

I head home. People-watching isn't all that boring once in while, I guess. And I am not dead of hypothermia yet.

Cheers to that.

:)

the northern star

What have I in this life
But the love in Your eyes
This empty world will one day fade
Only Your truth will remain

Jesus, all I have is You
You're the hope I'm holding to
I might weep but still my faith
Rests in You

As the heavens hold the skies
It's Your hand that holds my life
And Your love will lead me on
When all else is gone

i see you.

the season to be jolly, 'tis

So he singled me out and that got me freaked out. He said that I've been testing the water with my toes when I should be cannon-balling right into it. Now what could he possibly be referring to? Hmmm...

Questions about ambiguity aside, I'm excited about the festive season. It's going to be a different year-end experience again. Two in a row. I like! I've been in the mood ever since the lights went on at Oxford Circus two weeks ago. They're nothing compared to what you get along Orchard Road (either that's true or I've been looking at the wrong street), but they do the job just as well.

Can't wait for my final term of undergraduate life to end. But I don't want exchange to end. Oh the dilemma. :s

the case for divorce

I was discussing sex with a friend of mine, and then we started talking about divorce (sadly). On what grounds is it permitted? When is it an indication of frivolity? After some research, here are my thoughts.

I agree that the bible is our measure of morality. But we need to take this with a pinch of salt (for lack of a better idiom). Carl Braaten mentions in Christian Dogmatics that “The ultimate authority of Christian theology is not the biblical canon as such, but the gospel of Jesus Christ to which the Scriptures bear witness ”. So it really isn’t the bible that gives us our norms. The bible needs to be read in the context of those days. Laws and commandments set in the bible should not be taken to be morals cast in stone. We need to ask what the underlying principle of those laws are. But the underlying principle is not enough. The core of our moral decisions should be how they reflect the love that we have learnt to know in Christ. We need to relate morals to Christ. This is when it becomes subjective. Whenever there is an element of interpretation, there is an element of subjectivity. Let me go a step further to say that.... Even if we’ve established morals in relation to Christ (even if you argue that there is no subjectivity involved), there are exceptions! Let me paraphrase from the writings of Bruce V. Malchow from the Lutheran School of Theology and Mission to illustrate this:

In Mark, Jesus says the following: "Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery" (10:11-12). However, in Matthew, Jesus says the following: "anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery" (5:32). Now, there is one reason why divorce may be acceptable - unchastity. Paul adds another exception to Jesus' rule when he says, "if the unbelieving partner separates, let it be so, in such a case the brother or sister is not bound" (1 Cor 7:15). So now there is a second reason that divorce can be all right--desertion. There are other valid causes for divorce! While Jesus' rule stands as our general guide, we pastorally evaluate every case to see whether divorce is the better alternative.

My point is that morals are dynamic. It doesn’t always mean that we’re compromising. It could very well be a well-intentioned effort at staying relevant to our times. This makes it subjective.

the bonfire weekend

i like having fun. i like gyrating to club beats all night long. i like making out with the only person I have ever dared give my heart to. if only she were here.

but still, i like having fun. especially on a boat sailing along the River Thames.

how cool is that.

the reason i'm a skeptic

strangely enough, the music still suits this...

the justification

I am NOT just like everybody else. I'm not perfect. but I'm me.

the prego song

I can be really ambiguous and difficult about things I'm afraid of. It doesn't necessarily mean I'm unsure about what I want or need. In retrospect, deep down I always knew. All I needed was time. But you gave me so much more. I don't know how you did it - not knowing where the path would lead to; not even knowing if we were on the same path. But you did anyway.

Thank you for waiting.

I pray you never leave.

:)

the linguistic incompetencies of our nation

Unless you've been living under a rock, you would have come across the flurry of criticism following Ris Low's infamous post-pageant interview. It's one of those videos we share on Youtube and Facebook just for laughs, like we did for the other great Youtube funnies - Dramatic Gopher or Chinese Backstreet Boys or Leave Britney Alone. Simply because her command of the English language was comical..to us. When I first watched the video, I was appalled. Not at her diction (lack of, rather), but at the fact that the judges let her win. My criticism was directed at the judges. How could they let someone with such substandard English represent the nation at a world class pageant. Just compare her to Ms Singapore Universe 2009 - Rachel Kum. The differences are glaring. Is one more appealing than the other? To me, yes. No prizes for guessing who (especially with her scandalous pictures floating around). But is one necessarily better than the other? That wholly depends on the standards we're using.

If we are basing it merely on linguistic competency, then we are fools. Because unless you speak Queen's English (ie. Received Pronunciation) with that pompous accent, we're going to sound just as foreign and incomprehensible to non-Singaporeans as the French or Yorkshire accents are to us at first. I can't tell you how many times I've been exasperated when people here in London respond to me with a 'sorry?' or 'what was that again?' despite me speaking perfectly good English most of the time.

But I digress. My point of all this is not that speaking good English isn't/shouldn't be the criteria for judgment. At the end of the day, when we have crowned the winner, we should be able to look at her and say, "Hmm. Yep, that's definitely Singaporean". And I think Ris Low definitely fits the bill - discounting her credit card fraud cases, of course. We need to face the facts. Not everyone in Singapore speaks good English. We have Singlish, and we have Engrish. And for now, at least, that's who we are; that's what we speak. There are so many families that use Mandarin, Malay or Tamil as their primary mode of communication. Consequently, their English may not be as polished. And there's nothing really wrong with that. It doesn't happen just in the heartlands (and I hate that term, by the way). Considerable volume of local business transactions occur between the Mandarin-speaking wealthy. Even in premier schools (once again, a term I don't exactly like because of the scorn it generates), Engrish is spoken by a decent number. Although the numbers could be more pronounced at "neighborhood" schools, the point is that it is widespread. Singaporean subcultures exist. And my take is that we shouldn't be ashamed of who we are - weird as it is for me to say.

Of course, that doesn't mean we don't improve on our English. Or that we don't grimace when someone butchers the language. We're entitled to be put off by people. It isn't discrimination, it's preference. Be gracious about it. But we aren't entitled to portray Singapore as something that she isn't.

So the pageant judges were sort of justified afterall.

PS: Oh, and while we're on the topic of linguistic capabilities. I think it works both ways. Typical conversation -

Person: You speak Tamil?
Me: I think I do. Er.. yes.
Person: Oh really? let me hear!
Me: (incomprehensible Anglicized Tamil)
Person: Ok, you really should stop talking. And your mom's a Tamil teacher! (criticise criticise)

Sure, most of the time it's harmless fun. Sometimes it's funny. But it sure as hell infuriates me when the critics aren't able to speak proper English, and I'm gentlemanly enough to overlook all that.

Or maybe being ignorantly critical is a Singaporean thing too...

the aquarium

today it occurred to me... most guys all over the world, Asian or European, are losers. At least, they behave like they are.

Some girls too.

Except the ones who can dance to Soulja Boy on stage.

Jägermeister and Sambuca shots do the trick.

the tube

So it's been a couple of days and here are my first impressions...

I see this city as an unpolished form of Singapore. Unpolished, yet refined, rustic, yet appealing. It's like Singapore in many ways - excellent infrastructure, congested traffic, a ballooning international population, mild (harmless?) racism. Yet it's so much better in many other ways - beautiful colonial buildings bordering every street in central London, working fireplaces, John Wesley's home, linguistic superiority, a thriving arts scene, accental sensuality, an authentic and natural cosmopolitan feel, harmony in diversity, a delicate mishmash of the traditional and the modern, the reality and harshness of life that every child should face while growing up, political maturity, communal spirit, freedom to express, freedom to choose, freedom to accept, freedom to reject.

We'll see....

the blower's daughter

i like piano

the juxtaposition of music

so after another night of pointless clubbing, with pounding music and random chatter , I come home to the mac, open firefox, and hear Hillsong play.

and it sounds so much more peaceful and fulfilling. it sounds more real and hopeful. it sounds right.

so i turn off the music, and get on with life.

the all brits partyyyy

New Asia is the New Attica.

the team i've grown to like

Today, we were trying to dig ALOT of coins out of an acrylic structure with a small opening after a photo shoot. My boss became quite vigorous with her fingers. And at that instant, a colleague exclaimed, "Eeeee... you damn disgustingggg!!!".

My team cannot be any more.. adult:

the month of reconciliations

July's almost over and it has turned out to be the most peaceful month since the year began. It feels good to mend broken relationships, to know that you matter enough for the other party to want to help pick up the pieces, not really bothering about whose fault it was to begin with. It feels good to go the extra mile for someone. It feels good to forgive, and be forgiven. It feels good to forget about forgiving, because you don't see a need to revisit the past. It feels good to uncomplicate things, to press the reboot button, to find depth in simplicity.

But more than it feeling good, it's the right thing to do.

the rash vow

After much contemplation, here's the vow: I will not step into a club, nor drink alcohol, until circumstances change.

I'll just be plain ol' compliant ekklesian. But that shouldn't really matter.

It's quite exhilarating to be on the dance floor when the DJ is spinning a song your friend produced. and your friend is with you. and you're wearing a prop used in the music video. and everyone's watching, i would like to think, in a drunken state of envy.

The future is not...

Que sera, sera.

the number TWO... the number ONE

There are much bigger things in life to worry about.

Life isn't all about the interview you haven't prepared for, that choice internship at GS, that will convert into your dream job offer, the unforgiving office gossip, the bitch who you claim ruined your life, the bitch you ruined, the friend that you don't want to hurt, the politics, the religion you so easily fall back on when things are beyond your control, the facades, the confidence you try to exude, the gelled hair, the fabulous Japanese food at Old Airport Road, the Olympics, the ground-breaking moments, the record-breaking stunts, the music of your soul, the favor you so desperately seek in people who don't really care, the people you want to prove wrong, the false sense of belonging that you deceive yourself into feeling, the flashy cars you see outside Zouk and Millenia, the forbidden fruit, the six-pack you used to have, the chances you missed, the thorns you endure, the fear you succumbed to.

No, none of these things really matter. Because when the time is nearly up, and you have some moments to yourself, you think of the people who love you, and how they would survive without you. you think of people who accept you unconditionally. you think of people who will cry at your funeral, not because of the pain they would feel, but because they would feel yours. you think of those who would bend over backwards for you and honestly expect nothing in return.

It's all about perspective.

4:35

In our darkest hour, in my deepest despair
Will you still care? Will you be there?
In my trials and my tribulations
Through our doubts and frustrations
In my violence, in my turbulence
Through my fear, and my confessions
In my anguish and my pain
Through my joy and my sorrow
In the promise of another tomorrow

I'll never let you part
For you're always in my heart.

the night i never got high

i know what i want. i know i can get what i want. if i only just reach out. but i can't. i won't. cos i can never be too sure. cos to a small extent, i'm afraid of FAILURE.

F***.

--

Respect for those who went beyond their limits. Respect for those who outlasted the others. Respect for those who scored. Respect for those who didn't, but still smiled.

Respect for myself.

We'll know how much it cost us on Monday. I'm guessing close to a $1000. Is it worth it? I guess. Cos the life we/I live is shit. A night of fun is definitely worth every penny

Is it?

Too late, dickhead.

the legacy lives on

[Diddy]
I remember the first time I seen you moonwalk,
I believed I could do anything,
you made the world dance,
you made the music come to life

[Chris Brown - Chorus]
This the type of song that make the angels cry,
i look up in the sky and i wonder why?
why you had to go, go
I know its better on the other side,
you were chosen from the start
never gon’ let you go,

[The Game]
Who’s Michael Jackson,
You’re Michael Jackson,
I’m Michael Jackson,
We all Michael Jackson,
I guess what I'm asking is everybody bow their head for a legend don't breathe for a second,
now let the air out, grab the hand of somebody you care about,
so you can hear my message, my confession,
someone tell Usher, I seen the moonwalk, I guess the young thriller touched him, like he touched me, like he touched you,
so carry on his legacy, something i must do, so i trust you lighting candles, concrete visuals, me and my brothers listen to Jackson 5 in the living room,
first thing i did when i heard was call Puff,
cos him and Mike tried to stop the beef between us,
who was us? Me and Fifty, that beef is dead, him and Mike Jackson gonna take us to the ledge.

[Chorus]

As I’m pouring out this liquor candles start to flicker,
when list (?) my air ones, MJ was my n***a.
Not the one that played ball, the one with the Hollywood star,
and since I’m a Hollywood star Imma tell you my story,
never had a family that close, never see Barry Gordy walking through interscope,
just like me they always had Mike in a scope,
no matter what you say,
imma love him and hes still dope,
let me take you back to 85 when i was in a zone, dancing for my momma thriller jacket with all the zippers on,
now I’m doing 90 bout to crash in this Aston,
listening to Outcast, I’m sorry Mrs Jackson
anything I can ever do to better you your son was our king so we wont Coretta you,
I’m writing this letter to all the Jackson kids, we all Jackson kids, time to let us through.

[Chorus]
[Diddy]
People can say what they wanna say about you.
We gonna remember the miracles that you showed us.
Through your music, through your dance, through your philanthropy.
You were the one that made us all realize that we are the world.
You were the one that showed us we could moonwalk
You gave us the beat. You gave us the rhythm. You gave us the soul.
Through us your legacy lives on
We can't stop now, we won't stop now.
Mike Jackson.

[Chorus]

[Boys II Men]
This the kind of song that make the angels cry,
look up in the sky and ask God, why o why why
Do we live and let die
This the kind of song that make the angels cry,
look up in the sky and ask God, why o why why
Do we live and let, live and let die.

the king of pop is no more.

Michael truly is magic.
He has given us so much.
And we will remember him for that.

Michael. The Legend. Forever.
1958 - 2009

the ship better not sink

i could grow to like this. i really could.

i hope it lasts.. or maybe something better'll come along.

either way, i'll be adequately satisfied.

Amen.

--

My office reminds me of The Office.

Today, we did a photo shoot. I sat on the floor half the time. The other half, I was doing SMU jumps. I didn't get paid.

the 80s

the 80s must have rocked.

either that, or it's just my headphones.

but seriously.. check out the cool head-bobbing.
__
and to add to the previous post of amusing things that happened over the weekend:
- i had vodka forced down my throat about 7 times. NEAT. that much i remember.
- i found a receipt for a $250 bottle of whiskey in my wallet the day after. It seems I signed for it.
- i missed my appointment with the artist. despite looking forward to it for a full week.

I am going back to my only-one-beer-a-night clubbing days.

the 24th one

it's all rather amusing that:
- i had to wrestle with home-made steak over the weekend
- a friend thinks my ego is bigger than my sex-drive. and i have to agree.
- i lost my Blackberry at Attica
- i don't remember when/where/how i lost it
- the cops at Clarke Quay are quite useless
- the cleaner found the Blackberry and surrendered it to the management
- the management called MY MOM, of all the people in my address book, to return the phone
- my mom was exceptionally cool about it and decided to term Attica a "24hr shop" although she knew full well what it was. just so that i didn't feel uncomfortable. :D she really is the best.
- the club looked worse than a coffee-shop toilet on a Sunday evening, when I went back to claim the phone. dried puke and tissue everywhere. and this is supposed to be the place where trendy yuppies who want to be seen spend their nights in style.
- the club manager told me that the phone was lying on the floor in the open just outside Attica. and nobody stole it.
- there are messages on my phone that i don't remember sending or receiving.

still, i must thank everyone who wished me, met up with me, wanted to meet up with me, for helping to make the day a special one for me. especially if you did it despite knowing that i absolutely abhor birthdays. i truly appreciate it.

happy birthday to me.


keep running. cos that's what you do best.

the organizedly random statements

You know you need rest when you don't understand the double meanings behind "men suck", especially when you read that on a t-shirt at newurbanmale.

Everyone's flying. I wish end-August would come soon.

I want to start my own family soon. Cos the godson can't get any more adorable.

A wise gentleman recently told me that I shouldn't be bothered with where the wind blows from and just enjoy the coolness of the air.

A wise lady recently told me that I am not walking alone.

I generously spent over $700 at the PC fair. I am now in a state of denial and hope it lasts forever. Red is the new black.

I'm waiting for some exciting plans to materialize - yacht party, house party, binging competition. All 3 were planned on the same day.

I'm glad it happened, just like you. Pretty perplexed, but nonetheless glad. I also know for a fact that I handled it a lot better than you. And you can't deny that. I wasn't presumptuous, hysterical, insolent, arrogant (yes yes, buzzword these days) or impertinent. And that is why the chapter has already closed.

the rebound

High level meeting with the Head of Consumer Markets (HCM) and some other big shots commences. Intense discussion takes place. Only the big shots speak. The rest observe. HCM grills my boss, the Department Head (DH). It is a sad, sad meeting. Suddenly, without any warning...

HCM (looking in my direction): Are you guys on dope or something? What's your opinion?

HCM glares at poor me, the 1-month old intern.

Melvin (mumbling): Well...erm...I do understand what's going on

HCM: And?

Melvin (kicking himself for not paying attention): Well... [blink blink]

Meeting drags on for another 20 minutes before HCM concludes the meeting abruptly and storms out without any goodbyes. Pin drop silence follows. My usually jovial boss is unusually stressed out.

DH (forcing on a tired smile): Any thoughts? Comments?

Melvin (trying to sound confident): Well.. I felt...blah blah blah... so we should.. blah blah blah.. and that should work.

DH: Why didn't you say that earlier when he (HCM) was around?? You looked like you were about to.

Melvin (not sounding so confident anymore): Ah.. that was because...[blink blink]


And that's how my Tuesday evening at office ended.
---

Wednesday and Thursday, on the other hand, were markedly different. Significant merchant deals inked. Jobscope expansion. A decent meeting with DH I had actually prepared for and so was able to contribute meaningfully to.

LIFE TRULY IS A ROLLER-COASTER RIDE.

the blurt

So I have a horrendous experience with a merchant today. Waste my time attending the off-site discussion. And the 2-way cab fare. So when I get back to the office, I slam my file down on the desk and exclaim to the rest of the team... "STUPID INDIANS!!!"

They stare at me for a moment. before one of them says.... "identity crisis?"

Citigroup's off the Dow. Ironically, Travelers' taken its place. A sad case of the servant becoming the master?

I wish I could just sleep the rest of the week away.

the stench of cats

I found out that there's a club that doesn't close even at 8am. Indians definitely club the HARDEST. Unfortunately, 10 hours of drinking/partying is about all that I can handle. Age is getting to me.

Acid Bar reminds me of New York. No, I haven't been to the Big Apple yet. But I've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S. before. And the girl performing at Acid reminded me of Phoebe Buffet for some reason. I'm definitely asking her to perform Smelly Cats the next time I head down to that dazzlingly gorgeous place.

My self-proclaimed godson hid my mobile phone cover the other day. After engaging the help of his family and the two helpers to ransack the living room, we finally found it in his toy chest. Nothing melts your heart faster than a 2 year old giving you the guilty look.

I thought I had forgotten how to become sad. Now I know I haven't. It's a nice feeling. A nice, forgotten feeling.

I think it is very odd that you can't remove pending friend requests on facebook.

the day the bitches reigned

today, i encountered the worst possible customer. i caught her cheating. and she accused me of putting the blame all on her. bitch.

today, i also affirmed the existence of another sad, old bitch. bitch.

poor, poor bitches.

the books i read

This morning, I read a NORMAL book on my way to work. I say normal because my previous 2 were...

1. JESUS: A STORY OF ENLIGHTENMENT by Deepak Chopra. It'a a blasphemous book about His unrecorded 'lost' years. Chopra decides to conjure up random episodes of His life that most probably never ever happened, but serve to give a human experience to this person we call the Son of Man. These episodes supposedly allow a very mortal Jesus to discover the Way. For some reason, everytime I picture Chopra, I picture Mike Myers next to him.
2. UNDERCOVER SEX SIGNALS by Leil Lowndes. 'nuf said. In my defence, I only read one chapter and got bored of it.

So the normal book was simply titled 'THE RACE'. It's about finding the real journy in life. I like this book firstly because the pages are reallly smooth. And the message of the book is really cool. About focusing on what matters. Streamlining our priorities. Knowing what matters and what shouldn't. And while reading... I felt... CONNECTED.

the imaginary friend

Chivas and green tea concoction. LETHAL. It's puzzling how one can be so devoid of emotion when sober, and exactly the opposite when not. Does it mean that I'm no different from the rest? That I'm an emotional wreck on the inside? But if I were, I would feel it. I would know it and I would be trying to suppress it, being the stoic that I am. I would be putting up a facade. But I'm really not. Maybe I've conditioned myself to be emotionally detached. To the extent that it doesn't require any conscious effort any longer. That's just sad.

That must be it. It has to be. Afterall, I'm still able to laugh, joke, dance, sincerely have fun, and not be burdened by the many, MANY things that have been happening over the course of the past 10 days. (No, it isn't just that one issue). I'm still in control, and I'm thoroughly impressed.

Last night, I had the nicest dream in a long while. Alas, it'll probably only remain a dream. I'm not sure what triggered it, her memory having been dormant for so long. I guess seeing her parents from a distance a couple of hours earlier had something to do with it. So the dream... It was a phone conversation. With someone I hardly know. I don't remember any visuals. All I can recall is that I was stammering like I used to when I was in primary school. And she ended the conversation saying something (I don't remember what) that was enough to make my heart skip a beat. And this is MY heart you're talking about. So it definitely is something.

I won't settle for less.
I can't.

And until someone like that comes along, I shall be obsessed with my imaginary friend.

the bumpy ride

Leadership camp at Port Dickson went well. I like how I got convinced about things I never thought I'd be convinced about. I loved the intellectually stimulating lectures. I thought the food was pretty amazing. I liked both nights, different as they were - one was spent at a beachfront coffee stall that didn't keep tab of our orders and thereafter, vetting a friend's theology paper; the other was spent at a high society bar at the Hilton Hotel in KL. The lodging was BAD but it didn't really matter cos we hardly spent time in the rooms. Still, I made sure I was as far away from the ground as possible when I slept. Not exactly a fan of rodents.

First day at Citi and I fell asleep during the meeting cos I couldn't understand all the acronyms cos nobody had bothered to orientate me before that. RCPL, AKON, SC, Project C. Looks like I'll have to figure everything out on my own. I hope I leave an impression. A good number of Citi senior management are Indian. RESPECT.

I need to learn to stop being so defensive of my work. And stop thinking like a politician. Someone called me a "heavyweight" at exco today. I'm pretty sure that isn't a good thing. Maybe I should just stop expressing my opinions and start nodding my head to whatever anyone says...

The AWARE saga. Religion should be kept in the private space? MY FOOT. Religion should be out in the open. And we need to learn to appreciate different views. Having said that, I'm glad the new guards have admitted defeat. They weren't the culprits. The old guards were equally innocent too. The stealthy Murdochian wrongdoer is much much bigger. Much more powerful.

Big brother has a loud voice....

the cans of worms

Sunday
FREAKY FREAKY SUNDAY. It was definitely weird. But it let me see the ignorance and spite of many. People who just stood by and thought of it as nothing more than entertainment. People who were grinning like they were enjoying every moment of it. People who passed judgment without knowing head or tail. And people who actually cared. It showed me one thing. We need to fight our own battles. Because, hypocritical as it is, nobody really gives a flying fish.

And I would never have paid 29.50 to get on the Flyer. Not to see the IR construction.

Crystal ball
My worst grades ever. Summa cum laude graduation, nevertheless. Citi Associate. Citi Management Associate? Decisions, decisions, decisions....

Choices
I feel like puking just thinking about it. I'm just waiting for things to set themselves right. Unfortunately, indecision doesn't solve everything. It doesn't solve ANYTHING. I feel irritated. Surprisingly, it isn't with myself. It's with everything else. With timing, with attitudes. London is definitely coming at a good time. But what do I do till then? I know I'm not a bad person. But why do I fear that I am?

One can of worms traded in for another.

the final countdown...

In less than 10 hours, I will be done with SMU. I can't wait. I know it's going to be anti-climatic. It always is. But I'm still looking forward to it. I don't hate the university or anything. But I don't love it either. Still, I owe it to the school for showing me...

the not-so-good stuff...
how to be ruthless,
how to be overly-ambitious,
how to be competitive,
how to raise expectations,
how to suck up (although I'm hardly good at it),
how to be politely condescending of inferior deliverables,
how to fake a smile,
how to fake a concerned face,
how to exaggerate,
how to work for more than 24 hours at a go,
how to sleep 2 hours a day, for a week,
how to mind my own business,
how group study rooms are not used just for studying

the good stuff...
how to voice my opinions,
how to challenge the views of others,
how to engage almost anyone in conversation,
how to dress to kill,
how to sound like I know what I'm talking about,
how to become interested in bloomberg and cnbc,
how to create something out of nothing,
how to club the day before an exam,
how to complete the exam when you're still high,
how well work and beer go together,
how to study for a term's work in a day,
how the song 'closing time' goes,
how to choose friends,
how to be a friend,
how to let go,
how to leave it all to Him.

I think I'll be fine. yep.

the much-deserved break

A select few are flying. but i'm still struggling to take off.

Call me already, dammit!

In other news, London's finally becoming a reality. In a couple of months, for a couple of months. I hope I find an excuse not to come back. But that would be so evil and selfish of me given that our generous gahrmen will be footing the bill It's going to be cold and gloomy, just the way I like it. I can just picture myself. Beer in one hand, fag in another. Ok, maybe not. I'll have to make friends. I hate that part. I hope the accent rubs off me. It's quite sexy. Think Mischa Barton. I hope to attend nice big traditional churches on Sunday mornings to juxtapose my Friday and Saturday nights. Or every other night, if I'm lucky. I need to learn how to cook. I want to zig-zag across Europe, take lots of pictures, try space cakes, look at nice buildings, examine grand ruins, probably watch a soccer... sorry FOOTBALL match just to brag.

But before all that, I have my final four exams at SMU to clear in a week's time.

FINAL FOUR! (but still jobless)

the strategy

To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.

- Bessie Stanley

the light at the end of the tunnel

HAHA

Pehli Nazar Mein

What magic did that first gaze do to me
The magic that made this heart, yours forever
Whatever’s going happen now, doesn’t matter to me
Let’s celebrate this moment of love, together
Here I am now
And here you are
Come into my arms, oh c’mon
Oh my dear love, forget this world, by coming into my arms

You are in each and every prayer of mine
Without you, each moment has no shine
With you these heartbeats are on cloud nine
There’s only love over here
Definitely something in here
Since I met you, one fine day
Ever since I was lost in your love
Oh my dear love, forget this world, by coming into my arms

Each moment apart from you, drives me insane
This feeling of love, brings some pain
My thirst for you makes my thoughts go plain
There’s only love over here
Definitely something in here
The distance between us, won't let me live now
For you, please understand my desire
Oh my dear love, forget this world, by coming into my arms

the peaceful suicide

I needed some fresh air so I sneaked out of Attica and went for a walk at 3am along the Singapore River. For some reason, my friends thought I had suicidal tendencies, got very worried, and started calling my mobile unceasingly. Nice to know I have friends who care like that.

While on the topic of suicide, I recently read the farewell note of the SAF doctor who plunged to his death at Westgate Bridge in Melbourne earlier this month. Discounting all the controversy surrounding the politics of it all, I still found the contents of the letter very disturbing. It didn't have anything to do with morbidity. There was hardly any. And that was why this letter was different from any other suicide note. The guy was at peace. His decision was not one of haste. He stood resolute. He jumped resolute. He had it all figured out. He knew what he was doing. And yet he did it.

"I have decided to end my life. I will do so happily, at peace with the life I have lived... I am not depressed, and never have been.... I can happily say that I have led a full life, despite it ending at the age of 27... I die happy, at peace, almost eager to see what comes next, if anything at all."

I picture him smiling, leaping off the bridge, arms outstretched, liberated, waiting to embrace the waters below that would effect his death. Why did he trivialize life like that? How could he? I ask this without passing any judgment. I really want to know. It must be a huge load off the shoulders. To believe that nothing really matters in the end. All that you've lived for are those memories that you will take to your watery grave and nowhere beyond. All that you've lived for is the present. And that amounts to nothing. Is this delusional thinking? Imagine what it would be like if this thinking was propagated to the masses - that it doesn't matter, nothing does. because life is transient, so are we. imagine if you said bye to your friend, only to see him walk away, climb onto the ledge, look back at u, smile, wave, and step right off. (recall the ACS kid a few months go) It's a stretch, yes. But it illustrates a point. If we started thinking like that, this world would become much more chaotic that it already is. The flags don't go up. So you won't know who's next.

"I do not believe in an afterlife, or a God. Death should be final and absolute... I have no sufficient investment or interest in any such temporal or spiritual thinking, and this is the main thrust of my decision to pass from this world"

Where there are no consequences, there are no boundaries, there are no restraining forces. There is just... what I think there should be.

the cocktail marathon

In one evening.

Who cares if some were ladies drinks... $5 a piece!

the painfully draining WAIT

i've underestimated the power of greed. it's true. it is utterly INSATIABLE.

when i entered uni, i had never heard of such ridiculous sums of money before. so i said i would be happy landing a job that paid X dollars. then i read some supid survey that claimed that the top 20 percent of graduates earned 2X dollars. so I told myself that I wouldn't be happy unless i earned 2X as well. THEN i hear that IB interns (interns, not full-timers) get 4X. and this is across all IB departments.. Citi (now we know where the money's going to), ML, DB, MS, GS, CS, UBS...

So then i wanted 4X for a short time. although i knew deep down that i wouldn't really enjoy the job. so i told myself that i'd be happy with 2X. and i would never trade all my free time for the additional 2X. then the call comes in. and i realise that i'm THIS CLOSE to landing the job. i get excited. but since i'm so jaded, the excitement feels so weird. so draining. and now i want that job again. even though i feel so drained even thinking about it. and now i wait.. hoping that i don't hope that i get through. but really, i'm in denial. for 3 minutes after the interviews conclude, i found myself pacing about, wondering when they would call me with the good news.

life would have been so much more pleasent and satisfying... if only i were ignorant.

i'm NOT gonna get it. dammit. WAKE UP.

oh, and thank you, dear friends, for shouldering the burden. you have no idea how much you've helped...

the reminder when the clouds clear

i am thankful for the near-hits and near-misses in life. they make living interesting. and tiresome at times. more tiresome than interesting actually. but still. then there's something to lament about. a perfect life would be so boring, i think. and when you've pulled through, you get to go around and parade your accomplishment , as though you had expected that outcome from the onset. everyone's guilty of doing that, i'm sure. perhaps 'guilty' isn't apt. because after all that struggle, maybe you've earned the right to brag. just maybe.

i'm hoping to be able to brag some day. not to put others down. i don't see any fun in doing that, and i know some do. i think it's been so long since i actually earned the right to do so. i've been resting on past laurels for the past 3 years. i can't recall when i lost my drive. i seem to have it, but i really don't. it's a little too late to be thinking this. but, i'm quite sure my biggest mistake to date was deciding to go to THAT institution. sure it looks really good on a resume. But I think i got sapped there. and just never really recovered. that set everything in motion. that downward spiral to where i am right now. which is still a great place to be in, no doubt. but still...

some said my then-current institution was elitist. and perhaps that was one of the reasons i defected (yes, defected!). but if it really was (and i'm not saying that it is), it would only have worked in my favor. why didn't i see it like that then??? but what's done is done.

so i need to prop myself up. i'm not one to wallow in self pity. i work things out. i used to be stoic. i guess i've been weathered down. i need that exogenous push to get me going again. and where will that come from?

friends? maybe to a certain extent.
family? to a larger extent.
love? i'm a realist. but i would be glad to be proven wrong.
luck? again, i'm a realist.
myself? exogenous, dammit!
God? i can only pray.

and when it finally happens, please bear with me.

the love doctor

"Because that's what people do. They leap, and hope to God they can fly, because otherwise you just drop like a rock, wondering the whole way down, why in the *hell* did I jump?"

If you're going to jump anyway, do you leap and maybe fly, or just fall. Doesn't hurt to leap, I guess. I guess?

I guess.

the red, the black

©2008-2009 ~mimiwood

there's something oddly serene about this.
it's a lamentation of sorts.
but with that, a glimmer of hope
that the heavens hear
our struggle called life.
we aren't mere conformists.
but that doesn't make us evil.
does it?

because we believe.
or want to believe.
and that beats tradition any day.
brave enough to be free,
we challenge.

oh, but we must never forget
to believe

"and my prayers are to finally see the light"

the new favorite

Out goes the penthouse. In comes the luscious bedroom.

Sometimes, I wish I didn't have all that I have. Cos that means I get more than I can handle.
Actually, I should just stop thinking.
And live.

the jet will fly

i'm not much of a poet. so when i randomly craft a poem with the help of a much more talented friend, i get excited and want to share it. Lines in orange are mine, those in grey are hers. yes, there's a reason i didn't major in lit:

flu flu fly away,come again another day!
notti melvin wants to play
notti boii notti boii
jumping up 'n down with his toy
toy boy, boy toy
young and old come, don't be coy
what you looking at, don't so shy
its not the first time you're seeing my thigh
i konw you want it, don't lie
sigh.. i'm so high
don't leave me.. er.. dry?
no no you'll be wet
and fly like a jet
ok set!

the resevoir

The reason I dare post this is because I'm pretty sure my readership has dwindled to near zero (I hope).

It was late. It was dark. Saw a really big moon in the sky. Dozens of stars dotted the unusually clear skies. The breeze was calm. The waters were still. All was quiet except for the occasional bus passing by in the distance. So I was pretty sure we would... But we didn't. Instead, I watched her sleep in my arms. For most of the night.

And that was way better.

:)

the crystal ball

TIME has got to be the most ingenious of all creation.

It allows memories and experiences, both good and bad. It allows the maturing of the mind and the gaining of wisdom. It allows progress and development of anything and everything. It allows historical moments and fervent hope in the future. It allows the appreciation of what we've been put through. It allows the appreciation of what we've been spared. It allows one to move on. It allows the slate to be wiped clean. It allows new beginnings and fresh opportunities.

It is the gateway to the limitless window of the past, present and future. It is pure. It is untainted. It invites the best in us. It makes us want to do better. It urges us to set things right. It encourages us to press on. It gives us hope.

And whether we choose to spend the crossover in quiet prayer at church, or at home with the family, or out in the cold on the streets of Time Square, or at random countdowns at Clarke Quay or other party spots, it is this hope that brings meaning to those of us who bother to look for it.

So here we go.