Is there a need for people to be always romantically involved with someone? No one can deny that most of us are social creatures, and have an innate need for company, but will company in general be sufficient, or is something more necessary. Do friends fill the gap of a partner, or vice versa? Many of these are simply variations of the classic "chicken or egg first" question, which essentially is very debatable regarding both alternatives. However, this is what I do know: friends and family are quite adequate for me.

Of course, there are the occasional pangs of sentimentalism, or the surreal prick of envy, and many a time comes the urge to dive headfirst into something spur of the moment, most likely stemming from infatuation. Yet, a dissent to accept the "whatever it takes" doctrine never fails to triumph, a distaste for such mentality perhaps instilled by past experiences.

It's easy to see just how fragile each of us really are; how a single event/person is capable of altering our personalities, dispositions, inclinations - our life. And thus obvious how others (company) play a vital role into shaping us.

I decline your reasoning, and refuse to play your game, for I conform only to my rules-the very antagonist of yours.

I made a visit, with a good friend, to the UCLA campus recently. Being a previous student of the university, he was able to show me around the campus and the surrounding Westwood village, both to which I must admit, is idyllically impressive. The buildings on campus take on two distinct architectural directions; modern and Roman. Not only are they well maintained, but furthermore, have beautifully modeled interiors. There is a myriad of cafeterias and shops too, one of the most notable is the UCLA store, carrying merchandise like bruin clothing, keychains, shoes, books, sporting equipment and, believe it or not, an 'Apple' section. Moreover, the female student circle, as I have observed in a short span of 2 hours, is also exceptional. A wide assortment of eye candy is available to suit all and any tastes, topping it off with a stringent selection process that ensures none of them are, to put it politically correctly, solely easy on the eyes.

Moving on to less important matters, the adjacent Westwood village offers a great variety of food, one of which is a delectable desert of ice cream (of your choice) sandwiched between 2 freshly baked cookies, with flavours such as choc. chip, white choc. and macadamia nut, M&M, etc.. There are also a number of theatres, often housing the previews of blockbusters and consequentially, red carpet events. I myself came across one such occurrence, but failed to recognize any of the smiling celebrities, possibly due to the small crowd which had gathered in my way.

The university apartment that would be my next humble abode is located within two blocks from the west campus and directly north of Westwood village, and from what I have seen, appears to have a rather well-kept garden. Hopefully, the apartment will be reflective of its nicely landscaped yard.

I would have loved to post pictures but my camera was, unfortunately, 'borrowed' by my sister a few months back. Do not fear, however, for I'm sure there will be infinite opportunities to obtain visual evidence in the near future.

So, yes. I'm pretty much looking forward to life over there despite earlier misgivings. My only gripe is that I will need to take the bus for commutes, unless I get a car, which I can justify with innumerable reasons.

Now, if only I could get my parents to think that way too.

It's the same routine almost every other day; school, work, school, work.

@!##%#$#^&*!

Some people prefer to follow a fixed regimen daily, as it is supposedly tested and efficacious. However, I find it overwhelmingly dull. Is it because humans, in general, have a predisposition for novelty?

Perhaps that is why work gets tedious, or why fashion evolves at such an alarming rate, or why some relationships turn insipid after a while, like a cold cup of raw coffee-its aromaticity and taste lost.


Something just interrupted my train of thought. SOMEONE stuck a 'NINE WEST 100% protection' retail sticker to the bottom of my laptop stand! I think I know very well who committed this act of criminal vandalism. (Mr. rabbit, think I wouldn't notice?)

In a few hours, I'll be back to flipping burgers, toasting buns (hahahaha. ok, sorry) and dealing with some very unpleasant people-even a meat hammer in one hand, and knife in the other doesn't do much to intimidate them into expressing basic courtesy.

It's so boring, it's time for a nap.

I'm dying for a road trip.

A few months ago, I'd made up my mind that I was going to go somewhere, soon. Maybe Lake Tahoe or Las Vegas or San Francisco. However, it appears that my plans have to be shelved due to a lack of time, finances and most importantly, company. Looks like the only 'road trip' that I'll be embarking on is a hour and a half drive to Westwood, L.A. and the scheduled program would be composed of a boring orientation followed by a sightseeing tour of the UCLA campus. Pretty disappointing, to say the least.

How many of us really have the motivation to get out of our comfy couches to do something we have only planned, but lack the initiative to take action? It is definitely much simpler to blame our prevailing difficulties, as I have been doing all this while. Certainly many of us have dreamt about roaming the world on a map and a compass (ok, and maybe a million dollars too ), yet few dare to act.

Seems like I'm answering a question with nothing but another question.

Dreams are only what you make them out to be. They only transcend into reality when acted upon. Perhaps I am in dire need of a boost of courage.

So it looks as though I will have to skip down the path with Dorothy, Scarecrow and the Tin Man, in search of the Wizard, which is most probable to come in the form of a bottle of liqour.

And no, that was a joke, I'm not an alcoholic.

It's been a trying, but extraordinary, year. I'm leaving all that baggage behind, for today is the first day of a new year. No countdown parties, no streamers or balloons, no liquor even.

Just emotional gratification.

Here's something from a while back:

My Heart is You Piñata

Of saccharine sweets,
you have filled me.
Of colored confetti,
plastered over my bared body.

Out I stand,
in brilliant summer sun,
of colors green blue pink,
and red – intense red.

So unguarded,
with willing heart,
I hand you the wooden key,
enclosed in your calming fragility.

But alas,
My heart is but you piñata.
Thus out spill candied treats
and salty drops in weak winter sun.

And there lay you piñata
of only blue.
No pink or green,
of broken red.



I had forgotten about it totally, until I was clearing up disk space for my laptop, which is, by the way, slowly ebbing away into computer heaven (or should I say hell, judging from how much Apple charges for a laptop but only offers a 1-year warranty).

So, I've signed up for an ethics class this summer. Yes, I am so morally defunct that I need to be taught virtuous principles. Maybe it was the way I tried to run over that old lady limping across the road, or when I snatched a lollipop from the hands of a baby at the store when her mum wasn't looking, for I have thus realized that it's time for a change. What not a waste of money this is!

Sarcasm is my best friend.

The stench of restlessness harasses my otherwise leisurely summer. Coupled with the burden of unemployment and school, both refusing to free me from their steely grip, I have a strong feeling that this year's vacation isn't going to pass as sedated as the previous two. On the contrary, aside from the past week, which I have tackled with snail-like resolve, the following months are sure to be a mad flurry of last-minuteness and head banging frustration. Of course, after I prophesy the ensuing days to be such a maelstrom of events, a hopeful panacea has been devised by my pioneering mind, which I will be carrying out beginning this very moment.

Curious? Need a similarly ingenious solution yourself?

Here's mine: SLEEP ON IT

Wait, you say, isn't that for babies or old people? Well, why do you think they always look so RELAXED?


*Disclamer: Any references in this post are not a result of stereotype, but entirely coincidental and unintentional. (OK, maybe not unintentional)