T.h.o.u.g.h.t.s

2009-03-23T10:36:00.000-07:00

People need to start being responsible for their actions, and accept the consequences.

There's always an excuse so that people may seem less accountable for what they have done. It is possibly a remnant of our natural defense mechanisms, which have evolved from a physical nature to a modern, and more appropriate, cognitive quality. We've all seen it, and done it: when we try to explain why we had turned up late, or to the more difficult things such as refusing to accept blame in a dispute.

However, what we fail to realize is that assuming responsibility might not be the worst thing to do. We all have the most valid reasons for our actions, yet when it comes down to the wire, we always have a choice.

I made a choice once, to prioritize my attention on one of two things, and as justifiable as my reasons for doing so were, it did not alter, nor could it hide the fact that I had made my decision. Accepting the ramifications of my decision, as hard as it might have been, was perhaps the best thing I could do.

And it was.

Yes, I chose the wrong item off the lunch menu, and was pretty bitter about it.

2009-03-13T03:47:00.000-07:00

Helplessness;
All the strongest mind can muster is the weakest resolve against the heart's foolish endearment,
for never hath the lips tasted such delicious joy,
and never hath the ears longed for such beautiful song.

2009-02-15T08:41:00.000-08:00

Let us pardon
our mutual intrusion,
and journey through dreams,
now shall we?

Let us leave,
a trail of crumbs,
lest we lose our way,
but then again.

Let us get lost,
in familiar places,
in the most serene afternoons,
and in the deepest nights.

Let us lie,
on the softest ground,
amidst the distant howl of wolves,
and bathe in the gentle moonlight.

Let us revel,
in your mildest scent,
your most calming warmth,
and the beautiful song of your breath.

Let us linger,
in the slightest adoration.
Just this moment,
Can't we just forget the world?

Let us deliberate,
because when I'm in your arms,
there is nowhere else,
I would rather be.

2008-05-10T22:08:00.000-07:00

Would you prefer to live in the moment, or live for the moment?
Sure, many advocate preparation-getting yourself ready for the future, and it surely seems most logical. But what if doing so results in you missing out on what you have at present?

I am most certainly not endorsing procrastination, or downplaying the importance of getting yourself ready for future situations. In fact, I myself have been, many a time, put in a spot because someone throws me a question that I should have anticipated them asking.

Of course, there is the quick-fix way of getting yourself out of any hassle; the "I don't know" strategy:
Why didn't you pick up your phone? I don't know.
Where did you leave my pencil? I don't know.
Who took my chocolate bar? I don't know.

In spite of the versatility of the method, it might not work in all courses of events:
What are you doing drinking my beer? I don't know.
Was that my sister you were with? I don't know.

As a result, I cannot stress enough the significance of carefully concocting your alibi, so as to avoid any awkward, or physically painful incidences. However, many get caught up in planning for what lies ahead, and miss out on the things that are actually happening now.

Stop right there. Slow down and think about it. Think about what you could be missing out on.

Carpe diem; live in the moment.

Just to clarify, the above "I don't know" scenarios are fictional examples. They are not my personal experiences (well, at least not ALL of them are).

2008-04-05T23:01:00.000-07:00

Complexity is superfluous. Spontaneity is exciting. There's no need for meticulous planning. Devising a strategy may be a methodical approach, but it certainly ruins flow, and takes away the anticipation procured from being impromptu.
I'll decide what I'm going to do tomorrow, tomorrow.
Yes, beauty lies in simplicity.

Hence, I technically have no homework for today. It works, try it ;)

2008-03-13T13:51:00.000-07:00

Maturing. It sneaks in like a scent with every inch you grow, and by the time you catch a whiff of it, it’s already been there, lodged in some rarely visited corner you’ve always never cared to look. Suddenly, you begin to pay attention to all those minuscule details that you were accustomed to brushing off with a casual wave of thought.

Remember how we used to play in the rain, without fear of getting ill. Remember making rain angels, although failing terribly because they would never last long enough. Remember refusing to sit out pickup basketball games albeit injured. Remember doing practically nothing everyday, but feeling like we were living it up.

Then we grew up. We fell sick, or we had clothes that were too expensive, or we didn’t want a serious injury, and time became too valuable. We became scared.

Sometimes it’s perfectly fine to return to that. No, it’s not childish, even though we’ve been told otherwise. It’s being brave.

Hang in there. It always passes. Always.

2008-03-11T21:44:00.000-07:00

Daydream

It's not night, but it's a dream.
The sky's lit, but the stars are out.
Take a peek,
oh wouldn't you?

It's winter, yet the flowers bloom.
The birds are nestling, yet there is song.
Take a peek,
Just only you.

It's our little secret.
So take a peek.
After all,
it's because of you.

2008-02-17T00:46:00.000-08:00

Flirting with disaster. We all do it, whether it be the four year old child who touches the bottom of a hot iron even after explicit warnings from a parent, or the driver who weaves recklessly in and out of traffic on the freeway at neck breaking speeds. It really makes one wonder: what is it that compels us to risk doing certain things that we know to be potentially detrimental to us?

Perhaps it is curiosity: the innate desire for us to know; to push ourselves and challenge our physical or mental limits. It’s a need to gauge our potential to perform a task - any task, to know that we are capable.

Or maybe it is the thrill, procured by pulling off an act of blatant defiance. The exhilaration of knowing that, once again, nothing can hold us back, not even misfortune herself.

Whatever it is, it intrigues. It gives us a sense of achievement from overcoming odds, and most of all, the chance to flirt dangerously. Now, who could ever pass that up?

“Like moths to flame”, my best friend would say. But I digress, dear fellow, because unlike moths, we think.

However, don't take my words too seriously. I'm just really bitter because I've been planting my ass and face in the snow all day. But snowboarding is awesome-it's flirting with disaster :)

2008-02-09T02:38:00.000-08:00

Addiction is starting what you can't stop.
Addiction is looking forward to the next one.
Addiction is a false sense of security.
Addiction is melancholy among delight.
Addiction is perilous.

And yet,
Addiction is alluring; seductive.
Passionate even.
Addiction is like moths to an open flame.
Charisma at a price.
Addiction is losing control,
but never feeling better.

Addiction isn't what you put in you.
Addiction is what's already in you.

2008-01-29T16:33:00.000-08:00

You know what pisses me off? People. Yes, you've read that correctly - people make me angry, 'I-want-to-punch-you-in-the-back-of-your-head' angry. However, it's not every kind of person that manages to pull this feat off. Oh no, it's a particular group of people I would like to call: 'I'd-like-you-to-punch-me-in-the-back-of-the-head' people.

Well, you're a pacifist you say? Or you claim that you love everybody you meet? In that case, I feel that it's my moral obligation as part of this evolved society, and also your right to know that you belong to one of the aforementioned categories - and guess what, it's not the one in bold. For the rest of us who occasionally get irked by the oblivious ones, I urge you to act on your innate instincts as a pugilist and smite them in the back of the head with your clenched fist of fury.

So remember my words the next time you sit beside that guy who refuses to keep his legs still, making you feel like you have a cell phone the size of a cereal box vibrating in your seat, or the guy that sees fit to clean his nasal cavity midway through a less than engrossing lecture, or the overly zealous student who finds it necessary to ask questions like: "Is the test gonna be hard?", and remove the fist you've been using to prop up your hurting head with, then pummel the imbecile while screaming: "It's gonna be hard if you don't fucking study, you retard!", thereby relieving you and those around of a splitting headache and curing the individual of his foolishness and social failure.

Moreover, you should know that helping someone learn his mistakes is not only your moral imperative, but also equivalent to saving a cute, furry baby animal. Hence, don't ever hesitate to start the healing process because we all love cute and furry baby animals, don't we?

2008-01-10T01:37:00.000-08:00

I don't care what anyone says, but a vintage T-shirt with Lion-O on it is nothing short of 'phat'. Oh yes, I'm talking about the Thundercats. And just in case any of you young folks out there missed out on this old-school animated series, or if you just need a memory jog, click here - at the courtesy of wikipedia: the internet's most comprehensive encyclopedia. (Indeed, I've sold my blogger's integrity out to turn to a life of corporate whoring, or at least I'm hoping to.)

Back to the Thundercats, I can see why some would think that happy, fully-grown cats with rippling bodies, possessing a wardrobe that consists solely of leotards and oversized swords would come off as queer. However, acceptance of such gaiety (no pun intended) is an indication that one is secure about his masculinity, don't you think?

So screw you, if you don't like my shirt, because I think it's cool and that's all that matters. GO Thundercats, Snarf, snarf!

On a side note, I'm handling out a second set of congrats to _____(you know who you are). Looks like I'll be shopping for vintage T-shirts on my own from now on, you bastards.

2007-12-28T03:44:00.000-08:00

2007. Year of the pig. 51st anniversary of Disneyland. Etcetera.

Sure, it affected each of us in its own little way. To some, it could just as well be just another year, and just as they counted the days towards the end of 2006, they'll be counting the days remaining in 2007, and subsequently, 2008. Well, as much as I'm Asian, and therefore like math (Sorry, I couldn't resist playing the stereotypical card), 2007 still meant something special. In this case, 'special' not as in the retarded, messed-up kind of way, but in the 'It changed me' (not necessarily better, but I would like to think so) kind of way.

2007 was a year of experience. Simply put, it was great, and not just because '7' is my favourite number. Of course, there were certainly times that just plainly, for the lack of a more suitable word and motivation to browse through my vocabulary bank at 4am, sucked (That just took my writing to a whole new level). But to no doubt, there were awesome times; I probably drank more alcohol than ever, no thanks to a sibling who became 'legal' this year.

However, it's not always about the booze. It's the places you've been, the people you've met - the when, where and who, the what and how. It's all these that make you look forward to the upcoming year. Similarly, you know it really was quite a delightful year because when you look back, you would say stuff like, "I'm glad I was there", or "I'm glad I met you".

Happy New Year in advance, boys and girls. Happy 2008.

2007-12-07T02:05:00.000-08:00

Ambiguity. Isn't it a wonderful thing?

It begets hope, the optimistic expectation that things will turn out just as you desired. It tickles the imagination, launching the mind into a playground of phantasmagorical landscapes sculpted carefully and deliberately by fleeting emotions closely related to joy. The uncertainty unfastens the hook that holds you relentlessly to an often less-than-perfect reality, throwing you into a psychedelic kaldeiscope of merry colors and soft twinkling starlight.

Yes, it surely is wonderful.

(No, I'm not on drugs. I just like to think that I'm going to do really well for finals, without going through the ordeal of studying.)

2007-11-26T00:59:00.000-08:00

If you could,
I would be like a lion.
A simple simile,
a courageous cat.

If you could,
I would take.
Instead be taken,
through these trivial gestures.

If you could,
I would make the same choice.
A blunder perhaps,
but an end no different, no less.

If you could,
then certainly,
without a doubt,
I would.

2007-11-15T16:59:00.000-08:00

5 hours alone. A little garden. 3 very intriguing dogs. 2 cups of strong, aromatic black coffee. An iPod. And a book.

The perfect afternoon.

Or it would have been, if the book wasn't a textbook, and I didn't have my bloody midterms tomorrow. Or if there weren't so many discourteous drivers, whose first reactions to anything, be it minor or major, were to jam their palms onto the horn, just as you were holding a hot cup of coffee to your lips, making you jump and ergo ruining that pair of jeans you had just washed the night before.

Hence, to cut down noise pollution and save the many pairs of jeans that would potentially be permanently stained by coffee, I propose that the aforementioned vehicular douches (no, I'm not referring to a device for washing out the vagina as a contraceptive measure in this case) pay a heavy fine, let's say $50, to everyone present within a 100 feet radius if the horn is unnecessarily sounded.

So, imagine this: Sir Douchebag drives by in his spanking new 2-seater sportscar, and decides that his need of attention is so overwhelming that it exceeds his restraint in spending his father's obscenely huge fortune. Therefore, he stops his vehicle, fishes out his wallet and hands me my greenbacks. He subsequently proceeds back to his car to sound the horn at his own discretion. I will then be able to buy myself a nice new pair of jeans.

Who knows, I might even return him the change the next time I see him - all $2.58 of it.

I fucking hate douchebags.

2007-11-03T15:21:00.000-07:00

It's spectacular. Just like all the others.
It may fizzle. Just like all the rest.
Reduced to nothing more.

Don't appoint to disappoint.
Buck, foolish lad.
It's there for the taking.
Delight to be delighted.

2007-10-27T20:32:00.000-07:00

Why do some people like to get themselves drunk?

I could never fathom exactly what it was. The incessant ringing in one's ears? The tipsy, light-footed saunter that you acquire before planting a foot in a porthole and falling flat on your crimson face? Or could it be the urge to regurgitate that perfectly sumptuous dinner you just ate? If so, wouldn't an alarm clock, really high heels and a super-modeling stint do the trick?

I was always wondering, until I had myself inebriated the other day.

It's the feeling of doing whatever you feel like doing. See that tap? Turn that sucker on! Want to put that plastic dinner utensil through a friend's dinner? Go for it! Feel like calling everyone on your contact list and just repeating everything they say? Do it just after 9 pm when those free minutes come into play! How about eating that flurry, cotton-stuffed animal you've been eyeing? Sink your teeth into it, because it's high time somebody ate that 'Christopher Robin'-yelping, honey-gluttonizing bitch of a bear.

It's disconnect from reality, consequences, and all of that societal rubbish. It's having the courage to do anything, despite what happens the following morning. It's getting a splitting headache and parched mouth, yet knowing that a few hours before, you were the king of the world.

And it's knowing that no one's gonna blame you for anything.

2007-10-12T03:21:00.000-07:00

It's human nature to need affirmation.

Perhaps I've forgotten how much I dislike clubbing. A nerve-wrecking medley of loud music, deafening thumps that make your insides queasy, hard liquor and the claustrophobic feeling akin to being a sardine in a tin can. But I digress, because essentially concerts possess these very same elements, and yet they are a-w-e-s-o-m-e.

Stupidity at it's best: if it wasn't good the first three times, why would the fourth be any better?

I loathe the inconsiderate shoving, the bad manners, the throwing up, the sleazy mess. Worst of all, I hate the superficiality. It's a place where you pay to enter, only to feel emptier when you leave.

It's another lesson learnt, which brings me closer to realizing that the next time, or the one after that, wouldn't be the charm. I'll stick to my cup of coffee/tea from now, thank you very much. Moreover, after tonight, I think I deserve to affirm the delight acquired from doing something I truly enjoy.

I'm feeling home-made chocolate chip cookies :)

2007-10-10T01:36:00.000-07:00

To only dream makes one a fool.

But what's a fool to do, but dream.

2007-10-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

Disconnected by flight,
for years.
By an ocean so vast.
By hasty resolve.
By twist of fate.
By hands of time.

And how might a single thought,
plummet one into such contrasting polarities.
Yet lies homogeneity among difference,
conviction among incertitude.

You find situations so incendiary,
but with vestige of serenity.
You make decisions with doubt,
and wish for the best.

So best it be,
through a forest of faces,
a fostering of friendships,
comes a budding sense of reconnection.

It feels good to be home. Really good.

2007-09-26T21:12:00.001-07:00

So, this is it.

I'll be heading north in a couple of hours from now. Stuff has been packed and is sitting by the door. I'm not scared to really step out of my comfort zone, for the 2nd time in my life, just curious. My only gripe is this: no walking about the house in a pair of boxers and a T-shirt that resembles a slice of swiss cheese.

Sometimes it does feel pretty good to be independent. Only sometimes.

2007-09-13T02:17:00.000-07:00

Today I tried an amazing sounding recipe I snagged off the net. I begun at at 11:30pm, firstly seasoning a top sirloin steak with a blend of grilling spices consisting of a dash of dried peppers (or capsicum), garlic and onions grounded up and tossed with a sprinkle of sea salt and freshly crackled black pepper, then searing it gently for a couple minutes over medium heat with a hint of extra virgin olive oil and unsalted butter. Next, the steak went into the oven, pre-heated to a sweltering 315 degrees Fahrenheit, allowing it to roast undisturbed for 35 minutes.

Mouth-watering, right?

Unfortunately, I failed miserably (ok, not that miserably). It turns out that my pan-seared, oven-roasted slab of cow seasoned in a blend of herbs that would certainly give Colonel Sanders a run for his money (take that KFC and your secret recipe of 14 herbs and spices!), was grossly overcooked. Now, when it comes to steak, overcooking occurs pretty quick, and ruthlessly easily.

The reason for this sad outcome, also the only reason I can surmise, is that I couldn't resist the temptation to add a personal touch to the recipe, to modify it so that I could pass it off as the brainchild of my own culinary ingenuity.

All alone at one in the morning, with an abomination of home-cooked steaks, sure to leave even an amateurish chef shaking his head in disappointment, I was left to ponder why I had not opted for MacDonald's hours earlier. Nonetheless, more importantly, I'd learnt a valuable lesson: inexperienced creativity and blind trial-and-error should never be used together.

And yes, I was afraid. Ronald MacDonald is one scary, scary clown.

2007-09-11T01:48:00.000-07:00

My school fees are approximately 9k!

@#!#$!#@%@!$%!

I. Am. Appalled. The so-called academic prestige and international renown had better be worth the exorbitant fees.

Pressure to excel even before the semester begins - just what I needed :|

I could buy 30 "iPod Touch"(s) with that much money..

2007-09-04T12:10:00.000-07:00

I was told it'll be barely discernible. "Don't worry", they said, "It'll be as dark as coffee."

So unwittingly, I let them rub some of their 'concoction in a squirt bottle' into my hair.

What I didn't know was that I'd turn into a redhead under lighted conditions. Now, just like a superhero, I transform at night, when the sky is dark and the lamps all come to life. Crime mongers fear the dreaded flash of red before they are rendered unconscious, only to awaken in a dark damp prison cell, with pee in their pants and a big burly inmate smiling queerly at them.

I am NOCTURNAL HAIR MAN! Long name, but aptly descriptive nonetheless.

Please check local listings for availability of heroism. May not be procurable in all regions.

Oh god, I'm going to cry.

2007-08-26T07:16:00.000-07:00

Move in complete! The past week has been a period of toiling, gritty incessant furniture lifting.

So, I no longer live in Huntington Beach, and my new address is in the adjacent city of Fountain Valley. A little further from the beach, and much closer to the Santa Ana river, which is in fact a really huge drain (tua-long-gao). As soon as the internet is up and running, I will post crappy, low-quality pictures taken by my crappy low quality webcam.

And then in 3 weeks, I'll be moving again.

I. hate. MOVING.

2007-08-09T09:01:00.000-07:00

Next stop: Palm Springs, again.

Now, its not that I'm suffering from chronic discontent, in fact I'm pretty psyched about the 1-day vacation. Come to think of it, I've been on vacation for quite some time now.

I was just hoping to go somewhere further and cooler; scorching, palm-tree laden desert retreats weren't exactly what I had in mind. Oh well, at least I'm going somewhere.

Shopping! (shrieks like a girl). Ok, not really.

Shopping! (bellows like a man)

2007-08-03T00:57:00.000-07:00

This is a post for the sake of posting:

HI ALL!

It's time for bed. Orientation early tomorrow morning, and I've to wake up at an unearthly hour. Besides, I've swollen knees for, embarrassingly, running into a pole while playing basketball. Furthermore, I'd hit the side of my head against another pole to save the ball from going out of bounds. It was like a comedic performance, at my physical and emotional expense.

Cruel, heartless people.

2007-07-30T02:05:00.000-07:00

NEW LOOK!

Added some self drawn elements. Some editing. And a really GREEN theme to reflect my stance on environmental conservation (just joking). I just read somewhere that green is a calm colour, and easy on the eyes too. (Green's the colour of money too $_$)

Now, wait till I figure out how to incorporate audio; of birds chirping and waterfalls.

*Update*
My comments box is GONE! crap!

2007-07-25T01:37:00.000-07:00

Extra credit question: What is a vital lie?
A vital lie is a lie we fabricate when we don't want to face a truth that's hard to face.

No, seriously, what the hell? So what's the purpose of "vital"? I better get an A for ethics, or I just may very well be unethical, non-specifically.

2007-07-20T23:01:00.000-07:00

I have always managed to maintain my body at a fairly consistent weight, regardless of how much food I stuff myself with. However, standing upon the very contraption of reckoning, also known as a weighing machine to many, saw the whirling scales go into uncharted territory, to my horror.

Gasp! What is this country doing to me? (rhetorical question). Almost a third of the 300 million American population is obese, and I would think that such an estimate is relatively conservative. Am I tumbling down the slippery slope to join the ranks of the overweight, to attend to my culinary desires with reckless profligacy? In this land of cheeseburgers, sugar bunnies and grease laden cuisine, one needs to realize that a cheap abundance of food doesn't justify zealous overindulgence.

Perhaps it is a minute possibility that I am exaggerating a five-pound gain, and I would certainly like to attribute it to an increase in height (while I'm at it, I would like a new car too). Perhaps it was because I was wearing heavy clothing. Perhaps it was because I just had a hearty meal. Perhaps I was going to make a toilet joke, but decided against it because someone may be eating while reading this.

Perhaps you would like to stab me with a fork for wasting your time. But hey, I probably spent more time typing this than you took to read it, so kindly put your kitchen cutlery away. Please?

2007-07-17T02:31:00.000-07:00

Oh yes, I've been working out, physically, more than I ever thought I would. I never had the motivation to do so before, yet now I find that it makes me much more energized and focused (in the ability to stay awake during tedious classes and repetitive work schedules). Clothing kind of fits better too.

Holy crap! I'm transmogrifying, as many males my age do, into a muscle obsessed freak I used to (and still is) be disgusted with, due to iron-pumping inducing hormones.

beef cake! BEEF CAKE!

I'm going to curb this before it gets out of hand. Moderation, after all, is key.

2007-07-14T02:31:00.000-07:00

I swear I gotta get myself a chipmunk. You would too.

http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1764124

2007-07-12T00:37:00.000-07:00

Monday noon. Woke up to a slight cold after a previous night of revision. Continued studying. Went to work late. Learnt about plans to play basketball. Quandary. Decided to play. Plans cancelled. Went home to study more economics. Slept late.

Tuesday morning. Late for ethics class. Went home again to prepare for test. Took a nap. Woke up in horror due to oversleeping. Crammed the principles of supply, demand, production costs, competitive firms. Took test. Shouldn't do too badly. Cold getting better. Basketball. Sprained toe. Watched DVD-"The Producers" while writhing in pain.

Today. Disturbed by the sound of a grass hacker. Did laundry at uncle's place. Can't bend swollen purplish toe. Late to work as usual. Damn hamburgers. Damn sweatshop. Late dinner with boss and friends. Nice place. Cute waitress. Came by a few times to ask whether I was ok. Froze as usual. Slapping myself figuratively. Discussed supernaturalism on the way back. Got back home and turned on all the lights. Will probably sleep with the lights on.

You see, there is such a thing as excitingly mundane. I'll say, life is full of inherent contradictions.

2007-07-06T02:20:00.000-07:00

It's the 3rd '4th of July' I've spent here, but the first time I took the trouble to go down to the beach, amidst the massive congregation of circumstantial patriots, to enjoy the fireworks.

The first independence day was on a balcony alone, smelling the smoke and watching the bursts of light in the distance. The second was on the phone, in the middle of a deserted parking lot-same smell, same lights.

So, this year's deviation was the introduction of people, accenting the excitement and marvel of the event. Unfortunately, the best seats 'in the house' were, of course, snapped up early in the morning. However, the 2-mile distance didn't make the display any less spectacular. Along the whole californian coastline, as far as the eye can see, fireworks were being shot high into the sky. The best part? No high rise buildings to obstruct the splendid view.

It was one of the shortest 20 minutes I've ever had.

Sadly, as always, some irresponsible parents failed to properly supervise their kids, resulting in a freak accident that left a 5 year old boy with a permanent phobia of fireworks and 4 fingers less. Some people really shouldn't be allowed to have children.

Sidetracking, the restaurant that my brother works at had a celebrity visit: mini-me from "Austin Powers". Allegedly, he left a paltry tip for the walter, who remarked in private: "I'll kick him like the little football he is." Yes, insensitive as it may be, it also happens to be the funniest thing I've heard all week.

For those of you who don't get it, or worse -find it offensive, I'm terribly sorry for the guy humor. I'll try to soften the joke next time yes?

Yeahhhh, right.

2007-07-03T01:45:00.000-07:00

If turning back the hands of a clock meant altering the past, I would break the dial - Life's just too short for regrets.

We do certain things, or refrain from others, because we believe in karma, self-worth, or perhaps some adaptation of both. Or maybe the rewards outweigh the cost.

But really, how responsible are we truly for our actions?

2007-06-30T01:31:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-06-25T00:10:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-06-20T12:56:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-06-14T23:45:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-06-10T14:18:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-06-06T11:21:00.000-07:00

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.

2007-06-02T12:21:00.000-07:00

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)

2007-05-29T02:02:00.000-07:00

The house that I had grew up in for seventeen of the nineteen years of my life, is going to be undergoing some sort of reconstruction phase. Some developer will probably demolish the place and build smaller, yet more expensive condo units in its place. Needless to say, compensation would be offered, but how can any amount of money amend for the many memories of my childhood and teenage years?

Seems like the connections that bridge me to that little island where I call home, are gradually dissolving. Slowly, almost sequentially, familiarity progresses with minute changes into the unacquainted. And as the balance between the known and the unknown begins to shift towards where I am currently, I also start to lose the desire to step out of my newfound comfort zone. Only when I do certain things unconsciously, such as using a foreign accent so naturally, then I realize what is transpiring. It's really frightening to know that you are losing yourself, bit by bit. Just like a string that is coiled together with smaller pieces of thread; after one of the fibers snaps, the rest easily unravel themselves strand by strand.

Is it true that there is always a replacement for anything? New friends succeeding the place of old ones. Homes with newer homes. And everything else. Even if it is, I prefer to believe it isn't so, because somehow it makes the present appear less susceptible to change. More stability, if you would. But then again, sometimes you just can't deny reality when it is happening right before your very eyes.

People manage to move on, but walking away is just so hard.

2007-05-25T02:05:00.000-07:00

You learn so much about yourself when you start talking to people who have watched you grow up. So, my cousins were here for a while, and it's really amusing to hear the stories they tell. Allegedly, I had a strong propensity to pinch when I was young, and according to them, I would wave with clenched fists as if holding back myself, squeal, "I must, I must!" with impish delight, proceed to run up towards them and nipping their arms, thereafter scampering away with bouts of playful laughter. Although I have no definite recollection of the aforementioned rascally behaviour, it has been insisted, with great confidence, that such mischief did occur with regular frequency. However, in my defense, I would have to say that nostalgia has a strong tendency to exaggerate.

Summer is officially here, but it appears that I have more tasks to complete than ever. Sign up for summer classes, apply for housing, mail transcripts, prepare for transfer, get a job. Isn't my vacation supposed to already begin?

Here I am staring at an enormous bag of laundry out of the corner of my eye; a constant reminder (and eyesore) of the urgency to quit procrastinating immediately.

Speaking about laundry, someone had the audacity to attempt to "tax" my beautiful new sweater last weekend. Unfortunately, when that failed, my sweater was then returned to me in a tangled, knotted ball. Hey, not cool, but it was actually kinda funny. (btw, the strawberry cheesecake, despite girlish,is in fact pretty good).

These past weeks have brought me to certain places that I've not been to for some time; the little Italian restaurant down in Santa Monica, Downtown Disney, Hollywood Walk (Broadway) etc. etc., and even though they had each brought back some fragment from a past memory, I find that I wasn't really upset by it, and that's a good thing :)

Most importantly, I'll be finally getting some much needed shut eye. My many dreams miss me terribly, and it would be very irresponsible of me to let them down, wouldn't it?

Good Night.

2007-05-23T02:34:00.000-07:00

I am SLEEP DEPRIVED.

Detesting finals week, as usual. But at least, these past weeks have been the "fun-nest". It's nice to have company around :)

It's 2:37 am, and its back to revision for me while the rest of the house snores away. I reckon I should be laying off the 'Red Bull' before I end up jumpy, spastic and twitching uncontrollably on the floor.

ZZZ.

2007-05-19T18:23:00.000-07:00

Everyday, I have these little revelations, when I accept the different snippets of what's supposed to be and what's not. Like a blank piece of paper that has been drawn and written on, depicting a myriad of abstract pictures and meaningful words, and torn to shreds by a series of abrupt events, then meticulously affixed back together with an awkward bricolage of glue, tape and sweat. Granted, the illustrations are still interpretable, but the lines where the paper had been ripped are clearly visible, no matter how strong it has become due to its modifying fortifications. Yet, therein its right chest lies an empty patch, the remnants lost, perhaps deliberately, during the repairs. In its place though, is a sketch connoting episodes of self-justification, guilt, exhaustion and remembrance. But more significantly, it is an overview of realization, that what's lost is lost, and cannot be regained through any means.

Everything happens for a reason, although many a time it does not seem that way. Yes, I've gotten over losing those tickets. However, we both know this probably isn't just about that, but much, much more.

2007-05-18T15:17:00.000-07:00

I haven't had much time to blog recently, because of school, work, and the need to entertain. But even with so much on my plate right now, there's still that one thing that lingers incessantly at the back of my mind.

Sometimes, you just have to take things with a pinch of salt, because it really gets so despairing when you don't.

After all, to quote Bugs bunny, "Don't take life so seriously, you'll never get out of it alive anyway".

2007-05-15T21:15:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought everything was going to be smooth sailing from then on, life grabs you violently by the collar and flings you back onto the ground. And you only fathom how much you need that someone to make things right, when everything begins to go wrong.

I managed to lose 3 Disneyland tickets worth US$60 each, in just a matter of minutes today. It's one screw-up after another, and just in time for finals week too.

Great. So f**king fantastically wonderful.

2007-05-14T01:46:00.000-07:00

I just keep screwing up.

My J.C. studies. Then something that meant the world to me. Now, I can't even do the simplest things properly, like getting someone to answer the door.

HAI. why like that?!

And each time I mess up, I just realize how much more I can't do without her support...

Everything just seems so wrong now.

2007-05-12T02:41:00.000-07:00

There are some songs that I classify as "feel good" songs; I think it's pretty much self-explanatory. So once again, I've uploaded one to share.

Download link: Click here

Busy, busy, busy.

2007-05-08T20:24:00.000-07:00

The weather here is SoCal is the warmest it has ever been; at least it feels that way. And, as if to add injury to insult, I've just sprained my left ankle quite badly. I know it's going to hurt a whole lot tomorrow morning, but there's nothing much I can do about it, except...

I've heard alcohol is a pretty effective anesthetic. *wink wink*

I guess I'm left with no choice. *more winks*

Oucchhhhhhhhhh.

2007-05-05T22:32:00.000-07:00

School's getting really busy these days - it's just three more weeks till summer arrives, with its known heaty temperatures, leisurely days and fleeting romances, although I reckon I won't be involving myself in liaisons of any nature.

But then again, I may be as incorrect as I had predicted an exact year ago.

"Life's a box of chocolates". Well said indeed.

I think humans are instinctually polygamous - that was probably how nature intended us to be. Fortunately, just as how we had always found the solutions to a certain problem, we came up with the answer to polygamy; love. I can only surmise that love is courage, courage to stick with someone no matter how bad it may seem, to remain monogamous. Sometimes it tends to backfire, but for the most part, it appears to be functional.

If you ever feel that love just keeps disappointing, don't lose heart. After all, it's been around for as long as we have walked the earth, so it sure works! Flawless argument, I must say. Good job king!

I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm not there yet, but it sure is getting brighter. The day I walk out into the warm sunshine and soothing breeze, will be the day I dance to the jovial melodies of life.

2007-05-02T01:04:00.000-07:00

I'll never forget the day I left;
The way she held my hand in the car,
tightly and firmly,
as if her life depended on it.
The way she stood at the side,
quietly and looking lost,
as if she had no idea what was happening.
The way she bit her lips,
but the droplets form behind her eyes,
as if she didn't want me to know.
The way she spoke,
soft whispers and single words,
as if nothing could express her feelings.
The way she embraced,
'big big' hugs,
as if trying to keep as much of me as possible.
The way she kissed,
warm and slow,
as if pleading for me to stay.
The way she turned away,
swiftly but deliberately,
as if she could not take the sight anymore.
The way she dashed off,
with tears rolling profusely down her face,
and the heart wrenching expression of misery she wore,
along with the trembling motion of her hand as she covered her eyes.

And the helplessness I felt,
just being able to stand rooted,
separated by more than a sheet of glass,
but a whole different world.

I'll never forget the day I broke the heart of a girl;
a girl who did not ask for anything more than for me to be by her side,
a girl who loved me with all her heart.

Is thus why thee still haunts my dreams so?

2007-04-30T23:01:00.000-07:00

I'm sick,
don't know what I ate (or didn't).
Sore throat, bad cough, stuffed nose and inexhaustible phlegm.
I'm bruised,
from being shot with paintballs a couple days ago.
In the head, my sides, my arm, my legs.
I'm dismayed,
because I didn't do very well on the test I studied the whole night for.
I'm scared,
my classes are going to get only harder.

I want to be carefree againnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn...

2007-04-29T01:40:00.000-07:00

Daylight Moon

Have you ever seen the daylight moon,
perched against the azure evening sky.
When wispy clouds undulate by,
to disclose bewitching mystique.
Its pastel luminescence harnessed
from the retiring sunset,
exuding simple earthly beauty.

Have you heard the daylight moon,
singing a soft melody.
The nimble wind dancing,
whilst the fallen leaves titter,
along to the peaceful tune.
And in ears when the song concludes,
hear you the whisper of Hesykhia*.

Take her hand you will,
for Allure seduces with her charm,
and rise to the orange sky,
as she spreads her majestic wings.
Close your eyes you should,
for when night falls,
you shall too into silken dreams.

So pray do tell,
Have you ever felt the daylight moon?

*Hesykhia - Greek goddess of tranquility

2007-04-26T20:50:00.000-07:00

Phew. Exams are finally over.

So, I learned that I got accepted to UCLA a few days ago, but didn't have time to think about it because of the need to study. I have to say, after getting the letter, I wasn't quite as thrilled as I had expected myself to be. Most possibly it's out of disgruntlement that I did not apply to Harvard or Princeton (for those without any sense of humour: I'm kidding).

It feels just like when my English teacher commented, "I put your paper at the bottom of the stack because I want to save the best for the last." Now, don't get me wrong, I am unquestionably flattered, but it just seemed that she was going to have tremendously lofty expectations of me from then on.

Should you inquire, aren't you delighted at all? Of course. I mean, who wouldn't be? It's just that I'm getting really tired of letting others, or myself, down anymore, especially after recent events.

Some may say that I'm just bragging. Surveying the last few years of my life, I admit I am, because I'm so very disappointingly proud of all that I've 'achieved', if that makes any sense at all. Perhaps you understand, for like me, you have lost so much that were so important to you too.

2007-04-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

The thing I love about instrumental music is that you get to fill in the lyrics as the melody plays. It's so much more poignant and emotional.

One of my favourites, an evocative piece: Whispers In The Dark
*Leave a comment if the link expires*

The strongest words are the ones that are left unspoken.

2007-04-21T22:55:00.000-07:00

I love driving.

I went out a few times today; lunch with a friend, to get ice cream, rent a movie, walmart, dinner, spending most of the time in the car alone, driving while listening to music, and I can't say just how much I enjoyed that. You get to sort out your thoughts, but because you have to concentrate on the road, you're unable to get too deep into them - kind of hard to describe.

It's like your own little world, albeit small, but rather cozy in an indistinct sense. You can feel the slight bumps of the road, or the soft whisper of the wind rushing by outside. The scenery changes from the vast blue pacific ocean that spreads out around the sun drenched sand, tall palms and the handsome pier, to the gentle glow of lights on Main Street at night, the idyllic restaurants and thoughtful chime of the hourly bell. The mellow ballad flows through every inch of the car, accenting the placid mood suggested by the crescented moon and clear black sky.

Then I looked to my left, to the empty seat beside me, and I thought of how much I wanted to share those moments with you, and of those that we had shared; the many romantic and delightful escapades, sweeping from one end of the globe to another, from Disneyland to Mount Faber, from Santa Monica to the Fountain of Wealth, and so much more. And I smiled. I never was alone, was I? I always had the best company; the splendid memories, the best present anyone had ever given to me.

I'm moving on, slowly and carefully, for I don't want to lose all that you've taught and given me. The psychedelic experience of young love that we had cannot be forgotten, and neither will I make an attempt to erase it completely from my mind. You were once a congenial friend, then an affectionate lover, and now a distant memory. Distant, yet I know a small part of me will always love you.

You know you had not loved in vain, when you look back and all you see are the happy times. Thanks, darling baoya.

Did I mention how much I love driving?

2007-04-19T20:58:00.000-07:00

The world becomes such a sad place when you learn that there are many instances when two who are very much in love may not be able to be with each other due to unfortunate circumstances.

Suddenly, I feel like my frustrations are so insignificant, juxtaposed with the colleague, who works two jobs 24/7 to support her daughters' college education, medication for her cancer-stricken husband, rent, bills, living expenses. Or the friend who has lost a family member. I catch them crying by themselves, out of sorrow, of distress, and a cold, clammy feeling creeps through me from head to toe. I can't help but frown and question; are my tears even justified when these people are going through so much more than me?

Sometimes I feel so helpless, because I know that regardless of how much effort I exert, or determination I have, there are just some things that are beyond my control.

Everyone has a right in the pursuit of happiness. But how do you correct an irreversible misstep, when that very mistake brings you on a path that takes you further and further away from bliss? You don't. Instead, you keep walking, until you find a different path that leads to a totally different kind of happiness, for better or for worse.

Well, whoever said that it was going to be easy?

On a lighter note, I am now officially LICENSED :)

2007-04-18T21:11:00.000-07:00

You possess my heart, my body, my soul.

To what avail is it to attempt escape when the foolish heart thwarts each assay with fierce demur?

2007-04-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

Chemistry is killing my brain cells, literally.
I breathed so much chloroform today, it's not even funny. Next lab session, I'm bringing with me a small towel, and have some deranged fun; sneaking up behind people and knocking them out cold with the good old chloroform + towel combination, rapist-style.

*wide eyed evil laughter*

Now now, rape is no laughing matter. I apologize for the callous humour, and I promise better jokes the next time around.

I'm just hungry, tired, miserable. And feeling a little insane.

Life sucks. I need a drink.

2007-04-15T00:47:00.000-07:00

I'm missing the littlest girl. She has the dazzling smile of her mother, and the sharp nose of her father. And predictably, her eyes are the biggest, most beautiful jewels you've ever seen. Don't mistaken her fairness for sickness, or her kindness for pretense. When you're around her, she is always smiling, just like dad. Her intelligence (and name) comes from mum though, but she is never haughty. She is a most loveable little angel, the happiest girl in the world.

Even if I should never see her again, I know I'll always love her, and miss all the brightness and laughter she'd brought into my life.

Zzzz. Story of my life; "What if".

2007-04-13T01:35:00.000-07:00

Sleepless nights spent in distant memories,
I drink from the deep, limpid glass;
The aged rum.
Its bittersweetness and tangy spiciness,
reminiscent of an unforgettable,
sentimental past,
dangling on a thin thread of hope.

As with each swallow I begin to fly,
through cozy evenings beneath the stars
and embraces under the moonlit skies,
racing along corridors of our youth.
Delicately, but running with abandon,
like raindrops pelting against
the windows of silent restaurants.

Yet, after many unabating dreams,
the strained thread would still not break.
Hence, belief takes the twisted arm of fate,
to attempt unravelling such cruelty.
But truth disrupts my perpetual slumber,
and I will then awaken,
to restless days fraught with simple reveries.

2007-04-11T03:13:00.000-07:00

When you find that she is trying so hard to expel you from every aspect of her life, do you rejoice in the fact that you once meant so much to her, or do you begin to dread the day when you would mean completely nothing to her?
Nothing at all.

Love is a play. The characters are both in a fantasy world, where every single word uttered evokes joy, where nothing seems bleak. There's no such thing as "impossible"; hearts, beating in their chests, yet traveling thousand of miles in a single night. Words, ethereal but able to kindle a soothing warmth among the coldest nights. A simple hook of little fingers, signifying the sincerest trust they have in each other, a mutual promise that the show would go on forever.

But when the lights go down, and the curtains are drawn, and when you stand alone in the dim flicker of that dying candlelight inside, you laugh at all that gullibility you had. It's clear to see, you're no longer the protagonist of her show. You've lost your role, your talent, the biggest part of yourself.

And you shed a tear, but no one sees.

You shed a tear, but he's all she sees.

2007-04-09T20:55:00.000-07:00

Have you ever came across a song that seemed to express your very feelings?

*Title is linked to the song, for your listening pleasure. If you want to download it, just click on the inverted triangle located at the bottom right-hand corner of the player(for Quicktime) and save it "as the source" after it is done loading*


张栋梁-北极星的眼泪

像斷了線 消失人海裡面
我的眼終於失去 你的臉
再等一會 奢望流星會出現
願 如果真的實現
愛能不能永遠
明天 或許來不及變
但曾經走過的昨天 越來越遠

北極星的眼淚 說不出的想念
原來我們活在 兩個世界
北極星的眼淚 你哭紅的雙眼
被淋濕的諾言 淹沒在心裡面
我抬頭看著 愛不見

再等一會 奢望流星會出現
願 如果真的實現
愛能不能永遠
明天 或許來不及變
但曾經走過的昨天 越來越遠

北極星的眼淚 說不出的想念
原來我們活在 兩個世界
北極星的眼淚 你哭紅的雙眼
被淋濕的諾言 淹沒在心裡面
我抬頭看著 愛不見

當對的人 等不到對的時間
就在放開雙手的瞬間 愛撕成兩邊

北極星的眼淚 說不出的想念
原來我們活在兩個世界
北極星的眼淚 你哭紅的雙眼
被淋濕的諾言 淹沒在心裡面
我抬頭看著 愛不見

整個宇宙都 流眼淚

2007-04-08T00:40:00.000-07:00

I smell like a freakin' Korean barbecue, thanks Jon (tinge of sarcasm intended).

They said someday you'd find, all who love are blind. Now, laughing friends deride. Though, in all seriousness, it's better this way, for when they talk about it pensively, the numb feeling of being over her recedes, and you're back to missing her dearly again.

"You have to recognize that it's over. If anything happens between you and her in the future, it's a whole new different relationship. It doesn't carry on from this one. This one's over". I knew it was, but just hearing it from someone else, once more, jolted me to piercing reality. It's as if I knew, but was harbouring the hope that someone would refute that, or prove me wrong.

How do you hide the truth from yourself? What do you do, when you know it's your own heart that you can't trust?

You never forget the memories, you just choose to avoid them.
The pain doesn't subside, you just
get
used
to
it.

2007-04-06T00:17:00.000-07:00

My job title is the creative coordinator of culinary arts. Yes, you've read it correctly. In other words, I perform mindless, yet magical, tasks such as lining pepperoni on cheese pizzas. Indeed, I transform your everyday, oh-so-common cheese pizzas into delectable, taste bud boggling pepperoni marvels. It isn't as bad a job as many would think, for it has nurtured me into a multi-tasking prodigy; I always am able to accomplish many things with my mind while fulfilling my professional obligations, such as revising for a test, or deciding on what am I going to dine on during my break.

So today, while exhibiting my creative talents and multi-tasking ingenuity, I came to a sudden revelation. An epiphany, a smack in the head (technically, the physical assault came from the boss for forgetting to turn on the oven). I realised that all the ladies whom I've been romantically involved with, or have taken such an interest in, are all older than me, whether by a few months, or years. Now, you would have to forgive me if you were expecting something much more consequential, but this very interesting, or seemingly so, fact has a significant effect on the revision of my dating mentality.

I couldn't help but question myself: Am I, god forbid, an oddity in the dating world? Or is it just an indication of my unsuitability for a relationship, with regards to my age?

It can't be that I'm too young, because I know many male friends of my age or less, that are almost all dating girls younger than them, and the few who are not, have previously been attracted to girls younger than them. So it must mean..

Oh crap. I'm an oddball. An Aston Kutcher (I'm not refering to his looks here). An "apedophile"! (for those who don't get it, the 'a' negates the word)

Therefore, taking into account how I would be judged and satirized, I've come to a startling conclusion:

But so what? I am who I am ;D

p.s. Driving test in 13 hours. Wish me luck people, not that I need any of that though!

2007-04-03T23:54:00.000-07:00

Man is clever.
Man knows how to protect himself from hurt.
Man does not give it all.
Man is a master of deception.
Man plays the game smart; with mind, not heart.
Man walks away unscathed.

but he is no Man, just a Boy.

Boy, foolish you are.
Boy knows not the rules.
Boy leaps blindly.
Boy is naive; someone said, "love conquers all".
Boy clings on, devastated.

yet, Boy is now a man.
but Man, is just a boy.

Would you, like him, be a Boy? or a Man?

2007-04-02T23:02:00.000-07:00

10 sure ways to lose a girl:

10) Stop doing the little things that matter to her, like writing her love mail.
9) Throw stupid tantrums.
8) Be unsupportive.
7) Leave her physically.
6) Worse, leave her emotionally.
5) Not realizing all the sacrifices that she had made for you.
4) Refuse to say 'sorry', until it's too late.
3) Stop telling her you love her.
2) Stop showing her you love her.
1) Take her love for granted, thinking that no matter how you treat her, she'll always be there.

Do all 10, and her heart will gradually slip away from you, even if you once meant the world to her.

It's too late for regrets, because you didn't treasure her when she was yours. You had your chance, and you blew it.

You, am I.

2007-03-31T23:01:00.000-07:00

Jazz is what I consider one of the most expressive genres of music. Sometimes, it carries a fast-paced tempo, yet the music can be sad, and a tad mocking. It can also be slow, conveying curiosity, feelings of anticipation, of wondering what's going to happen next. At times, it may sound like pure rubbish, making no sense at all.

Sort of like life, don't you think?

I'm sure the concept of fate has been debated ad-nauseam, but I just can't help wondering; how much of fate decides who we are? It's just a little strange knowing that our lives are already written the moment we are born, that we are destined to work a certain job, to love certain people, to live a certain life. Sounds to me like some freaky sci-fi projection of the distant future, or perhaps it's how fortune tellers predict fortunes.

In that case, how do we defy fate? Or is there really no way to escape fate, because it is fated that no matter what we do, we do it because of fate.

This discussion is either getting nonsensical, or too confusing for me to comprehend. Someone understands, but apparently it isn't me.

I just hope I'm doing the right thing.

2007-03-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

Looking back on our past, I realize that we both were from totally different worlds. The places she goes, the things she does, do not seem to fit snugly into my world, and vice versa. Perhaps we were too blind to see that, or maybe we just needed more time before the pieces fit into place, time which we hoped for, but didn't have.

For now, I belong here. My life is here, and hers there. The timing was off. The places were wrong.

It just wasn't meant to be.

2007-03-28T12:01:00.000-07:00

Seems like my family has an affinity with getting into long distance relationships. Particularly now, with my parents and sister in Australia, and my brother and I in the states. At times, I would question whether my brother had made the right choice. After he came here, he broke up with his girlfriend in Singapore, taking into account my uncle's advice and his own judgement. That decision of his, earned him the title of a 'jerk', which I came across through unpredictable, but amusing, circumstances. Maybe he was really one, or maybe he just had the ability to make better choices than me, no matter how painful they may be. But I would prefer to give him the benefit of the doubt, because I believe that he truly had feelings for that girl. After all, I once caught him playing "The Sims", using his and her names for the characters, both holding the same last names. Since then, he has been single for the past 4 years despite multiple 'opportunities', at least to my knowledge.

Can I say that I wasn't in the same dilemma as him? Probably not, because I got the same advice from my uncle, mother, sister and friends. Every single time, I chose to turn a deaf ear, and follow my heart, and I can't say it was all bad. Though I question, if I had followed in my brother's footsteps, would things be different now? Perhaps he made the most rational, maybe the better, choice. Although so, I would like to justify my decision with a notorious, albeit cheesy, cliche; "It's better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all".

Listening to "No Woman No cry" by the Fugees. I used to satirize my brother when he sang along to this song, but presently, it makes perfect sense. For now, I think I would adopt my brother's precept of "living life first, love later". No promises though, for who can predict when would love come knocking.

I woke up this morning, feeling as good as I did yesterday. Conceivably, it may have been the late night movie, possibly the small dose of beer before sleep. It may even be the morning exercise. Whatever it is, I'm grateful for it.

I'm on a winning streak, and I know its only going to get better. Maybe tomorrow, maybe not. But in the long run, I know it will.

2007-03-27T10:43:00.000-07:00

Some people have been complaining about how emotional my writing is, hence i think it's time for a change in today's entry.

There's so many people that I've met, so many friends have just gone by. Some I get reacquainted with, some just get lost in the process of growing up. Certainly, there are the ones who have been with me all the way. When getting reacquainted with an old friend, you either connect straight away, or you feel like you both have become very different persons. I wonder if it's the same with family, will it feel as though I'm talking to a stranger, after not seeing each other for years?

In primary school, there was Noel and Kumar. I don't think those idiots would ever come across my blog anyway, so I'll just skip them.

High school is where I met most of my best friends now. There's so many, I'm afraid I just might miss out on one, so I'll forgo naming. You guys and girls have done so much that affects who I am today. Basketball in the rain, scouting on saturdays, standing up for each other against teachers (ny threw his wallet, i almost threw a chair), chalets at changi, the name calling (thanks xh, for coming up with it, and everyone else for propagating). Those were great times.

My rebellious phase was at its peak in junior college. Playing truant regularly, hanging out with the craziest classmates during breaks (sista dont always sabo me!), standing up for myself, standing up for friends (hs you were almost twice his weight, just body slam him), and getting the worst grades I ever had.

That's probably the reason I got kicked to the states. Working in the school'd cafeteria/circus (my boss has a penchant for fires), road trips with my family to The Bay, Sin city, Lake Tahoe, had the longest distance relationship (Jon, stop scolding, i prefer sg girls. besides, she delivered herself to my door :P), met really great friends who helped tide me through difficult times (el, thanks for the supporting the blog).

Then there are the ones who just won't go away (seet, it's almost a decade! when are you going to get lost?).

Of course, there's family too. To my bro, thanks for paying for everything. To my parents, thanks for paying for everything. To my sis, I'm glad you're my sister (I know I'll definitely regret typing that, but what the heck).

Ahhh, life is good.

For today :)

2007-03-26T09:47:00.000-07:00

Many used to ask me, "why do you smile so much?" I always had this strange tendency to smile, even unknowingly. Colleagues would ask me why I was smiling even though I didn't feel like I was doing so. Now they ask me, "why don't you smile anymore?"

Melancholy. I think everyone needs some of it in their lives. It's as though without it, there wouldn't be happiness. If one were to ponder closely, he would find that everything is subjected to relativity - without one, there wouldn't be the other. Sorrow is antagonistic to joy, as fast is to slow, as dark is to light. Seems like there is a flip side to everything. Of course, you could think of it as there's always a positive side too. It's just a matter of perception, whether you discern the glass to be half-empty, or half-full. Maybe I'm just addicted to sadness.

Pessimism actually isn't as bad as most would think. It's the strongest kind of security that you could get. Laugh at me and call it cowardice, or stupidity, but it can be plain common sense too. I can never fall far, because I would never climb too high, such that I'll be unable to handle the fall. There may be someone to catch you, but what happens when the very person who brought you to the heavens, leaves?

Building your life, dreams and hopes around a single person. When he/she is gone, friends say, you'll be shattered and lost. Family say, move on with your life, there'll be someone else. Others say, I told you so. I say, I loved with all my heart and have become wiser, sadder yes, but much wiser.

Push a man down and he'll stand up, stronger than before. Take his material possessions and he'll get them back, one way or another. But break his heart, and he may just never recover again.

He's giving you all that I never could. For the first in a long time, I sense that you're truly happy. Stay that way, stay happy.

2007-03-25T07:31:00.000-07:00

How is it that the better I feel when I go to sleep at night, the worse I am when I awaken in the morning?

There's just too much that time alone cannot erase - I've known her for too long. Like a shadow, her presence still lingers around me, following me everywhere I go. No matter what I do, she's always somewhere at the back of my mind, but I never seem to know what she's doing.

"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me"
-"My Immortal", Evanesance

I want to stop wallowing in self pity, but I start everyday from the bottom, not from where I left off yesterday. I desperately want to blame her, but I just can't find the heart to do so, because she really wasn't at fault.

When something as sublime as love goes to waste, who else can we blame but ourselves.

2007-03-24T10:35:00.000-07:00

Chaque fois que tu t'en vas Je prétends que tout va bien.

I remember how this phrase went straight to my heart, and touched it like no one had ever done before.

Last night, I was watching the Miss America beauty pageant. Beautiful women with beautiful hearts and minds, apparently. I say apparently, because it is puzzling how they can actually talk about volunteering to help impoverished children, with a big smile plastered across their faces. Walking appears to be something learned too - small steps, synchronized movement between the upper and lower body, arms fixed in short oscillations. Watching the pageant got me thinking about what i really wanted. I don't want someone with the traits of a supermodel and the heart of mother theresa; all I need is someone who can be intellectual at times, who feels pity when she sees owners mistreating their pets, who prefers to stay home and make a meal together, who treats my family well, who will chase after a bus with me, no matter how unglamorous that may be, who will call me crazy when suddenly I pick her up and carry her across my chest while walking, but secretly loves it when I do that.

Well, spring break is finally at my doorstep, but I can't say I've been particularly looking forward to its arrival. Utter boredom, if I should say. Maybe that's why I've been going through old convos and webcam pictures. Hours on end, staring longingly at a face on the screen, conversing about nothing intellectual, making funny faces, sometimes shedding tears because you miss the other person so much. It all seems so recent, and despite that, so much like a dream.

Speaking of dreams, they're back again. This time, you seem so distant even though I'm right there beside you. The twinkling in your eyes and the scent of your hair fades with such haste, I'm unable to keep up. I try to run, but I'm held down with a ball and chain, of responsibilities I've yet to fulfill. We used to carry the weight together, but you're tired, you can't go on anymore. I walk much slower now, having to support this load myself. But at least it's getting slightly lighter with every step I take. I walk with determination, hoping for the day I can run again. By then, you will be far ahead, but I will run with all my might. And I wonder, would you slow down for me? I wonder, but I do not know. Will I meet someone along the way? I wonder, but I do not know. All I will have is hope; hope that if I keep running, one day I would catch up with you. After all, you did turn around once, and you found me.

2007-03-23T11:10:00.000-07:00

Alcohol may just be the most marvellous, and at the same time the most inimical, invention of all time.

So after a few beers, I gradually slipped into a state of emotional anesthesia. The boundaries between reality and the dream world blurs, and I started to feel lightheaded, as if the heavy burden that had been crushing down upon me had suddenly been lifted. Its a most wonderful feeling when your mind can only conjure up the simplest thoughts - I hate the feeling of having to grow up, of having to learn about the harsh complications and practicalities of the real world.

I have the world sitting in the palm of my hand.

And then the effects begin to wear off in the wee hours of the morning. I awaken to the darkness with a parched mouth and startling consciousness, and the stifling myriad of emotions and boxed-up thoughts all come flooding back. Confusion, sadness, loneliness and guilt trample upon my no longer etherized mind without mercy, like bulls at a bull run. Reality shakes me hard, demanding that I repay the debt that i had accumulated with each gulp of intoxication I downed a few hours before.

Its exhausting to grow up. The world becomes so much more complicated, like a labyrinth of never ending streets, and with each turn, you are confronted by even more choices, each one leading down terribly different paths. The worst part is, there is no rote recipe to follow; sometimes the best choice is made with rationality, sometimes with intuition, sometimes with emotions, and it is unavoidable that you would make a wrong choice at one point or another. Yet you wonder, whether all the paths ultimately lead to the same ending, and if so, shouldn't any path you take be neither right nor wrong?

Yes, indeed there are no right or wrong choices, if you were to throw the concept of morality out of the window. It all condenses to how you choose to lead your life; with fame? fortune? love? deceit? integrity? Add in the notions of morality, practicality, fate and all you get is one big crazily perplexing world.

Innocence and naiveness, once lost, can never be regained. I don't want to know how the world works. I don't want to lose all the magic. I want to be told its ok to cry. I want to be told that tomorrow will be better, and I want to truly believe it.

I want to be a kid again.

2007-03-23T00:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there's just too much guilt in this world.

I don't blame you, i really don't. I know i couldn't be there for you when you needed me. I feel so much guilt for making you cry, again and again. Somehow, hearing you're with someone new gives me closure. Now, i know you wouldn't be lonely anymore. You wouldn't be crying anymore. Friends ask me: how is it that you feel better after learning she's with someone new? Honestly, i don't know. I guess when you really love someone, you want them to be truly happy. Never thought it was possible, but now i know it is.

At the very least, now i know what it feels like to experience true love; the kind that makes you glad as long as you know she's happy. And I'm thankful for that.

Of course, there are nights when i still think of us. The crazy things we've done, the happy times we've been through. I think of the wonderful memories; of whisking you off to a corner and kissing you, of lying beside you and just watching you sleep.

I just need one last promise, and please keep this one. *hook last fingers*

Promise me that you'll be happy. Thats all I really need.

Promise me your happiness.

2007-03-21T20:49:00.000-07:00

Once again, the house returns to being empty and quiet. The occasional creak of the floorboards and the heavy heave of the walls settling in for the cold march night seem ever so clear. The chilly wind penetrates every corner, and the steady chug of the boiler accompanies the infrequent howling outside, accentuating the lack of human voices.

You sense it coming; you hear its gradual descent and you shuffle to your feet, in a hurry to close the windows. Yet, it is certain that would not stop it, so you scramble to fill the room with any sort of noise you can create, any din you can make. But you know deep down, and fear, that soon it will be here - you are just delaying its arrival.

Soon enough, it emerges without formal notice, stealthily, steadily, quietly creeping up towards you, seeping through the cracks in the walls, from beneath the very ground you stand upon. You fight it with all your might, but to no avail; intangibility is its deadliest trait. Slowly it engulfs you. You scream but there is no sound -- taking its place are tears of fear, and you curl up under a blanket, but the intense cold arises from within you, and condenses in your gut, sitting there like a melting block of ice. The noises turn into a sad melody, and it is the saddest song you have ever heard. It is your song.

After what seems like eternity, it retreats with deliberation and crawls back into the now silent night. Your sobs are reduced to a slow trickle, like droplets from a loose tap, and your heavy breathing is accompanied only by the sympathetic sigh of the house, the sorry rustling of leaves and woeful chirps of crickets.

And then with slow realization, you understand why people fear it so much. You feel sorry for those who have to go through it, especially the ones who have had to face it because of you.

You understand loneliness.

2007-03-20T22:39:00.000-07:00

The brother and mother are making alot of noise again. Armed with a razor, and much concentration, she is currently trying to trim his hair while he gives "what did you do wrong?!"-related exclaimations. Its utter hilarity I tell you, and it certainly does wonders for my mood. Surely I'm going to miss the sporadic din of mother-brother interactions when she heads for australia tomorrow.

I never thought I would be so comfortable talking to my mother about relationships, maybe because I never tried. It might seem inappropriate at first, but it can be reassuring to discover how understanding one's parents could be. You would be surprised to learn what they have been through in life. Someday, I hope to be as much as a friend my mum has been to me, to my kids as well.

It's nice to know that no matter what, I can always count on my family to be there :)

Thanks mum!

calculussssssss exammmmm in less than 24 hours. RAWR!

2007-03-19T20:57:00.000-07:00

Today the inevitable happened. I saw it coming, yet i knew i couldn't do anything about it. Some of us cannot live without the constant feeling of being loved, and you happen to be one of them. i know, because i was once there for you.

I think I'm coping pretty well, comparatively to what i thought i would do if i ever heard about it. Somehow, hearing it from you made it better; knowing you're doing better made it ok, knowing you're happier made it easier. In an unexplainable sort of way, i kind of feel a little proud of myself -- it's sort of like seeing an injured bird fly again.

I picked you up
and nursed your injuries,
with meticulous hands
I mended your broken heart.
We went far and deep,
in those memorable times
we spent together.

Now that you are ready to fly,
I will let you go,
reluctant as i am.

Why the guilt-ridden eyes?
Why the tears?
I will be happy in my own way.
Because seeing you fly,
is another kind of beauty itself.

So fly high and far my love,
fly to the skies.
Fly with joy and laughter,
fly with strength and courage.

But if you are ever hurt again,
I will be here,
to once again heal your wounds,
and wipe the sorrow from your
beautiful countenance.

Perhaps then,
I will have grown wings.
And I will fly,
at last by your side.
Through rain and sunshine,
till the ends of the world.

I find my flair for poetry rather comforting :)

It's pretty ironic, that after everytime i hear about something that's supposed to "hurt", i sleep much better. it's a pity though, that it only lasts one night. who knows what i'll feel like tommorrow. Well, one step at a time i guess.

2007-03-18T23:20:00.000-07:00

So, i finally decided to start a blog, having discovered the power of writing. i never knew that putting down your thoughts on a piece of paper could relieve me of much pent-up frustrations and emotions.

This reminds me of this journal i used to keep in high school. i would write practically anything in this blue, slightly perfumed book (ack, what was i thinking then? FYI, i didnt know it was scented when i bought it). unfortunately, curiousity is unbelieveably overwhelming in many people, which i later came to know. my best buddies would do anything to take a peek in it. and when i say anything, i mean ANYTHING. this included a traumatizing stint in one of those oversized cylindrical trash cans. do you know that if u sit in one of those, or is forced to, it is impossible to get out by yourself? at that point of time, i suddenly had much sympathy for hermit crabs. i was then tipped over and rolled about, only managing to escape with sheer determination. of course, realizing what had caused my romp with the trash can, i then proceeded to burn the cursed book and almost caused a fire. that was when i decided to stay the hell away from scented journals and garbage collection utilities.

Yesterday was St. Patrick's day a.k.a my brother's 21st birthday. Finally we, or rather just him, are of legal age to purchase alcohol. alas, my incessent requests for some irish liquor was repeatedly denied given his worries about drinking anything in a glass bottle in the presence of our mother. i then proceeded to remind him of the time our dear mother gave us a jolly shandy when we were just five or six, and was then greeted with a certain vulgarity pertaining to sexual intercourse. Actually, i dont really drink; guess i was just caught up in the irish spirit, or another excuse for americans to drink.

Anyway, i have an organic chem and calculus exam coming up.(someone shoot me). Pressure Pressure. Study study. I have an unforgettable past with repeating a same word twice -- its not that far back actually.

On to a more solemn question: Is there really a right one? My response to a friend's comment about meeting the right one went like that: "i used to believe that there was a right one, but not anymore. its just an occupation conjured up by your own hopes abt someone, so that u can justify your own choices." i think i left her pretty much speechless.

And maybe thats why i still think you're the right one.

Dream dream.