life isn't live

And so age slowly creeps up to me;
not so much in numbers as in 22
but in 22 YEARS of memories.

If each memory had its weight
I would be down to my knees,
struggling to even breathe.

If every happy moment had its worth in flight,
I would be to the moon and beyond.
If every sad event had its strike through my heart,
I would have nay a shred of conscience left.

Oh, the times I masqueraded;
like a phoenix dying and reborn from its ashes.

Do you ever see the world and wonder
what ever lies yonder
and be at peace with oneself
as time slowly buries you under?

Aren't we all but a speck of dust
in a world full of dust mites?
But dust is not seen in the dark
It only flits around within the sunlight.

Sometimes I feel lonely.
All around me, what do I see?
Wood, concrete.
And two furry little hamsters for company.

My friend told me this
'why don't you get a life?'
And that started me thinking
what is life all about?

Is it about me, or about you?
About gaining wealth or wisdom or power or knowledge?
Is it about what happens between us
or what happens around us?

Does it have a voice, or a spirit
Does it move on its own accord?
Can it muster its own strength
Or be played like a record?

Will it lead the way
or trudge along?
Should it invoke feelings
To whom does it belong?

Life.
We all have one.
One life.
But for some, they've lost their life.
Their life isn't live.

contemplation of life

You know the type of guys that are shy to initiate conversations with members of the opposite gender, and will blush crimson in embarrassment when their crush notices them or approaches within walking distance?

I'm not one of them.

You know the type of people that live in the present, and get scorned by those who look ahead, because these people don't seem to save for a rainy day and are rather useless and not goal-oriented?

I was one of them. Well, I was only in my teens then, and I suppose the only reason why I was one of them was simply because of my strict upbringing. I had to be home within one hour after school ended or else. I wasn't allowed much freedom. Any friends I brought home were heavily scrutinized. Every female friend was stereotypically assumed to be my girlfriend.

Sometimes I'm amazed I didn't turn out to be a misfit. Maybe genes do play a part. Or my parents were very confident of my loving abilities.

Now, I still am partly who I was. I still live in the present, and partly look to the future. Some people plan out their life in detail and have a goal at every stage at their life; Get a degree by 23, get a fixed and stable job by 25, get married by 30, get two kids by 35 etc.

I'm so not one of those people. I actually don't dictate much in my life. Aimless and goal-less, some might say. I couldn't agree more, really. Cause, you see, I believe that this world is just part of my life, and I'm merely passing through.

Not that I eat drink and be merry everyday, but I tend to lean more towards intangible happiness. Sounds foolish and so childish, but I strive to remind myself not to get too caught up in the materialistic value of this world. Though sometimes I fail, and splurge on shopping but not on branded stuff.

My point being? I live my day to the fullest, knowing that if I were to pass on at the end of the day, and as I draw my last breath, be it in the bus or the train or at home, or while I'm eating or shitting, I'm content, and would live with no regrets.

Sure, there are and definitely will be actions or words that I regret doing or saying; and there will definitely be people I regret hurting. But I don't let this hurt hurt me and bring me down! I let it dissolve within me, and bring me higher, as I learn from it.

What about you? Have you contemplated life recently?

And my converse shoes are here!

And my converse shoes are here!

Recently, there're a few online websites that popped up, offering branded stuff at discounted prices for a limited time only.

Out of curiosity I tried one recently. Brandsfever. Kinda chic actually. I ordered a pair of converse shoes when the sale came about, and I was pleasantly surprised when my package came.

It came in a airtight bag delivered by a courier. Opening it, revealed a shoe box, wrapped in light pink paper with a ribbon, a corporate bookmark, and a handwritten thank you note. Did I mention delivery was fast too? After I receive the notification email that my order was shipped out, it only took one working day for the order to arrive.

Well, if you wanna try it out. I am a supporter of them, actually. Go check out http://brandsfever.com/invite/ranteo/

Cost of sex = 13 million

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Wow! Has it been a month already?

Wow. Has it been a month already, since I've started work?

I remember the first day I started work and had my first taste of efficiency.
Where I work, time is of the essence, thus we are heavily advised to use shortforms any way we can.

Imagine my confusion when I read this: "dtls vrf. cust ackn o/s amt."
In a 'long-winded' manner, that meant: "details verified. Customer acknowledge outstanding amount. "

Now, those shortforms have somewhat been ingrained in me, that it scares me sometimes. Imagine if I were to submit an essay wrote entirely in shortform. I would probably ace the 'hitting the word limit' part and flunk the content, language and grammar part.


Yet it does give me a certain joy. Endorphins run through me at certain parts of the day. Now if only those endorphins can help me to lose weight.

Wow has it been one month already?

And just like that, it has been a month since I've regained my citizen rights.

Honestly i'm still trying to find the right balance though. I haven't been rather successful in factoring in reading of newspapers yet.

I also haven't been exercising as much as I would want to. No time la. So i try to factor it in, by walking up three storeys to office instead of taking the lift. And eating servings of fruits daily. And using the overhead bridge instead of jaywalking. But that's cause got barricade in the divider la.

And i sleep better. Some people dread gg to work. I don't. True, sometimes i dread certain types of people, but then again, I'll never know the type of person my next caller will be, so how do I dread something that I'm unsure of its arrival?

That said, I feel more satisfied with this one month than with my past two years.

Perhaps i'm making up for lost time.

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Do you even know my name

Peas in a pod
Pack of wolves
School of fish
Herd of goats
Flock of birds.

They all stay together
Help each other
And that's what we did.

Then time came by.

Peas got burnt to a crisp.
Wolves left the pack for greener pastures.
Fish got snagged and uplifted.
Goats ate and died
Birds got fried.

And now we're strangers.
Do you even know my name?

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And just like that

And just like that, 22 years whizz past.

Or should I say, 17 years, since we don't remember much from our first few years.

I got a lot of queries from my friends on how I was going to spend my birthday. Fanciful party or partying all night and painting the town red or what?

It was none of the above. I spent my birthday doing what I best. Listening to people rant. I worked during the day and went for a nice casual buffet dinner with my family. And that was it.

Say you like cycling. Chances are you'll cycle on your birthday too. Or if you like to party, your birthday definitely won't be held at a coffeeshop or a restaurant. It'll be held at a club.

In the same train of thought, since I like to converse and aid people, I decided to work on my birthday too, and merely requested for an hour off.

After all, if you like to do a certain action, you won't feel exhausted by doing it. Maybe rock climbing. Or running. Or singing. Or sex. Or suaning people. Or mouthing vulgarities.

Wouldn't you agree?

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You lay.

You lay there in your filth
And dirt covers your flesh.
Torn and tattered,
You are slashed and scattered.
But though you are broken and
Crumbled by hand,
You strengthen me with
Part of the reason i live
A lovely devour
In the morning hour
The taste of your fear
My tongue can't resist but to leer
As you lie there helpless
Without you, life is meaningless
The uncle lovingly make
My fried black carrot cake! :)

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Life is a routine. or not?

My godson recently commented that life is so boring and mundane.


His daily routine was just study eat sleep study eat sleep and on and on that cycle went. I told him working wasn't much better. Work eat sleep work eat sleep. But I don't find boring and mundane.

A typical day for me is actually quite routine, in terms of task list.

I wake up, brush teeth, bathe, do my quiet time.
I take the bus to work.
I have either a plate of black carrot cake or prata for breakfast, and a cup of teh-o.
Then it's off to work, with canned or bottled drinks for hydration.
Lunch is veg rice.
Then back to work.
Then it's back home, bathe, dinner/supper.
Followed by facebook and settling of games, and checking of emails.
Then bed.

And this cycle repeats.

Does sound rather mundane right? But it's so not.

True that the tasks are the same everyday, but it's what happens during the tasks that make each day different from the other.

Maybe the bus driver smiles at me.
Maybe I get a seat and get some shut-eye on the way to work.
Maybe I settle a record number of calls.
Maybe I get a compliment from a caller.
All these and so much more make each day different, and something to look forward to.

Sure, I definitely deal with disgruntled customers. If anger could fry, my phone would be burnt to a crisp by now. But I still surge on. And, I don't bring the feelings forward to the next caller.
I start afresh with each caller.

And at the end of the day, do I feel tired?

Definitely. But I feel satisfied too. Knowing I've done a day of honest work. Honest in the sense that I've spoken with clarity and dealt with honesty. Not honest in the sense of legal or illegal work.

Life is like a wheel. It just goes round and round and round. But this wheel is huge and some parts of it has diamond studs. Some parts are plain wood. Others have saplings growing forth.

It's not what you do everyday, but what you do during each day.

Savour the flavour

Savour every drop,
Let it drip down my throat
Slow.
Caffeine that pumps thru the veins,
That grants the body a surge of energy
Fast.

We are as fast paced as our music allows us to be.

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What? has it been one week already?

Wow. Has it been one week already since I've started work?!

Time passes by very fast. Especially when you feel useful, for a change.

That said, I know why my office is so cold. So that we can keep our cool.

Laaaame, you'll think. But well. Would YOU keep your cool if you get verbally assaulted by strangers for something that is not your fault, and probably yours?

I have old men thinking it's so cool to own an iphone and then they blame us for not informing them of the data roaming option in their phone settings that can be switched off.

And i can remember my first week. On the second day, i felt 'wah lao... Cannot understand the indians at all. Their accent too thick.' Then came the third day and callers from china. Damn demanding these people. Actually just one la. But they also talk damn fast, and i actually have to take a sec or two to process what they say, and mentally slow it down so i can make sense of it.

I realize most singaporeans are actually rather humane. I can't use the word compassionate or forgiving or understanding. What i can say, however, is that majority of them actually apologise after ranting or letting off steam.

Gracious, to a certain extent.

And now, it's back to work. To people who kpkb about one dollar sixty cents.

I know every cent counts, but must so ji jiao meh! People asking for waiver for their 88 dollars or more i understand, cause that is one huge sum. But one dollar sixty cents. You can't even buy a mcflurry with that.

That said, i don't really bring much troubles home. Or maybe, not yet, heh.

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Carrot cake

I was tucking into my fried black carrot cake with much gusto for breakfast, when it struck me how it is so similar to life.

Order black or white, with or without chilli,
It all costs the same.
And so do we.
We were all born at the same cost.
An act of love making.

Regardless of how black the carrot cake it is,
Or how much is strewn across its face,
Or how dirty filthy unclean it looks,
Slice it apart and you'll see
The inside is still as virginal white as
It was born to be.

Aren't we all like that too?
That, inside of us, we will have a certain
Goodness, of some sorts.

That deep down within us,
We are all good people.
Despite our visible blemishes
Or worthless tastelessness,
We are all white inside.

Maybe not fully pure
Not fully clean
Not fully wholesome.

Tarnished by years of filth.
But there will still exist a fragment.

And it is this fragment that is heavily
Attached and desired by
Houseflies seeking a meal.

Don't you think so?

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