Total Christmas Gifts Expenditure 2011

UK
Iwoot - S$88.46
Vpost - S$45.89

US
Thinkgeek - $107.28
Fredflare - S$66.80
NBC - S$79.90
Comgateway - S$110.96

Total: S$499.29

As compared to 2010:

US
Thinkgeek - USD $175.28 (S$228.22)
Fredflare - USD $273.00 (S$355.45)
Vpost - S$129.69

Total: S$713.36

Brief Summary:
Well, this is a surprise. It felt as if I had spent more this year. Perhaps it was due to more merchants purchased from, a leap of four merchants as compared to two merchants last year - 100% increase.

Expenditure fell 30%, though shipping charges increased by 20.9%, perhaps due to increased shipping charges.

Still hard to say if it is cost-effective to purchase items from uk considering that vpostuk does not offer consolidation of packages. (Then again, since when is Christmas shopping ever cost-effective. )

Also, another highly influential factor would be the fluctuation of exchange rates. Without a doubt, the exchange rates would be favorable towards me now, and for times to come hopefully. More bang for my buck which equates to more bucks as the items seem significantly cheaper.

Ah time, how fast thee passeth

Ah Father Time. Thee speedeth by so fast, the sun has risen 365 times already.

So this is Christmas, and what have you done?

Indeed. I have done so much and yet so little. Do I feel more accomplished in my life? More personal satisfaction? I think I do. I have found love. I am still able to help people in my work. I have helped thousands of people for majority of the year before I had to leave due to undesirable circumstances. Then I found another job, and am still able to continue serving people.

I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Fun. What a word to describe a year. A year of fun. Of ups and downs, of thrills and spills, of broken hearts. Yet, fun is something that defies our definition of life. Can life be fun? Definitely.

What is fun? Laughter? Joy? Emotional security? Not being burdened with materialistic achievements or goals and taking a backseat to smile and be merry?

If that is so, then my year was one full of fun.

What about yours? Can your life be summed up in a word?

Ethan

Ethan, me lad, I feel for you.

I watched as you walked through the restroom two to three times, your face scrunched up in worry.
Then I approached you and realized you couldn't find your dad, but his ticket was with you.
I went through the restroom and checked the surrounding foyer areas for any sign of him, but to no avail.
I advised you to sit on the cushion seats outside the door first, before we would go in together during intermission to determine if your dad was in the auditorium.
You sat down obediently, but still displaying slight anxiety.
With the wits a ten year old can muster, you told me the whole story. How your family were late. How your dad was behind you at the security counter. How you were with your younger three year old brother and your mum, and you went to the gents. Your mum then passed you two tickets, one for you and your father, before rushing into the venue with your brother.
You gave me your father's mobile and I tried calling, only to be diverted to voicemail.
I could only advise you that there was a high chance your father was inside, the underlying statement that he had gone in without you.
Then intermission came, and I brought you in to look for your family. They weren't at the seats so I brought you back to the main foyer area and there they were.
I watched as your dad stood with folded arms, and merely nodded at you as you went towards him.
Then I heard your mum scolding you being 'such an ass.'
My heart goes out to you, Ethan.
I only hope that you will build upon this traumatic incident, and not allow it to morph you. I wouldn't want to see you in the papers on a killing spree.
Ethan, me lad, take care and go forth well.

Youth Gang Fight

I was reading the papers the other day about some gang fight where two youths were injured. Can't remember which one? It was the one that involved the student from Raffles Institution. I bet you can remember it now. And why not? The media subtly emphasized the educational institution the youth was from. Yet, if I were to ask you which school did the other youth come from, what would you respond?

You would probably think 'he got go to school meh?' After all, there was no mention of his school. What you just displayed or had participated in, is the effect of media on the unknowing. If you were able to find the article and read it again, you would realize only RI is mentioned and not any other schools. Subconsciously, you would recognize that as students from RI cannot be involved in gang fights; otherwise why would it be mentioned in the news article?

If that were true, the reverse would also be true. It is alright for students from other schools to be involved in gang fights. Most of you would vehemently object to that statement. But, most of you wouldn't object to the earlier statement either.

So which is which? Is your judgement being clouded by information, or lack of thorough information in the article? Is there an underlying presumption that it is a major head-turner for students from RI to be involved in gang fights?

If these were true, what about the other articles that you have read? Are you basing them on presumptions as well? Or personal knowledge? Or authenticated articles backed up by facts and statistics?

You decide.

So it is.

So.

Sem has ended.

Hols has started.

I've lost a job.

I've gotten another job.

My sis got married.

Two tiring celebrations.

In life, there is always a season for everything, a delicate balance of all elements. However, this balance can often be an imbalance at times, due to our perception.

The angle we look at the balance,

The essentials we place on the scale,

The weights we use to measure,

The presets we judge from.

A tilted and un-straight line might be seen as an imperfection.

Or an artistic touch of brilliance.

Life is full of changes. We can stand and try to unchange every change, to form our own perfect lives, and die trying.

Or we can go along with the tide, and embrace each change, making the most of it.

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Family

Sometimes family feuds can be heartbreaking. Conflict arising from simple misunderstandings and different orders of priorities. It's like a kid whose scoop of ice cream slipped and is now melting on the floor under the sun. Over time, the argument continues though its cause has long forgotten. What is now a puddle of color ceases to exist and the empty cone is left.

Yet the worst are the kids innocently reared in the same practice, and to maintain the family strife. Why should a new generation bear the burden of your sensitivity?

Perhaps age increases sensitivity and severs reasoning chords within the mind. I think three score and ten would suffice for me, in that case.

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Then and Now

In the past, buying a mobile phone was easy and cheap.
The phone itself would come with the wall charger, manual and, in later manuals, a hands-free set.

Then it advanced.
You would need to get the mobile phone, and top up more for an additional bluetooth headset.

Now it evolved.
You need to get the phone that comes with a usb charger, get the bluetooth set, get an extra battery, and get a portable phone charger.

The bigger the better?
Nah, I think evolution breeds bleeding of the wallet.

He falls

He walks along the path,
and then finds himself face down in a pile of dust.
Something is affixed to his back,
but no matter how he turns around and crane his neck and twist and contort his body, he sees nothing.
Yet he can feel the affliction,
and it gnaws at his heart.

It beats then falters,
swims then flounders,
loves then murders.

Alas, if only life did not come with decisions,
the small boy said.
Broken pieces of a jar in his hand,
as he sits at the edge of the cliff,
peering into the vast ocean beneath.

The wise man replied from yonder
then how different would your life be
than that of a stone?
the voice echoed over the constant
ebb and flow of the tide.

The boy leaps off the cliff and dives into the waters
Blue, cold, furious.
They storm at him, pushing and swelling,
like a baker kneading dough.

Alas, if only I had no troubles,
the small boy croaked.
Gasping and struggling,
to the surface he rose.

The wise man shouted through the waters
then how different would you be
from a fish who swims and eats all day
and gets eaten at the end of the day?

The boy climbs up the shore
sees nothing but sand in the distance
a vulture circles the air.

Alas, if only life was a smooth and straight path,
with no hardship or suffering,
his clothes ragged and torn,
walking into the wilderness.

The wise man bellowed through the air
from the surrounding mountains
then how different would you be
from the rest of your peers?

The boy reaches the mountains.
And searches for the wise man
but there is only him.
and him.

Stab

Ethics. Morals. Values. Instinct. Fight or flee.

A tightrope sizzles and burns. Do you leap off or wait till you fall?

When shit hits the fan, will you clean the fan or buy a new one?

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Lonely Child

My sister is getting married! Good news of course. No doubt I feel happy for her, that she can proceed to another stage of life. Yet, I feel a little sad within as well. Sure, I'll see her every now and then, but now it'll just be me and my parents as she will be moving out soon.

I am comfortably close with my sis. Despite five years age difference, we do get along well. I can't remember the last time we quarreled. We definitely had our differences but we are more different than similar, and we acknowledge that. That's why we ask each others' opinion because we know it would definitely be from a different perspective.

Now we aren't as thick as thieves or like super duper close sortof thing. We do embrace modern communication, and when we don't see each other physically, we communicate via other platforms like whatsapp or sms or twitter. We don't share much secrets. But we do know the meaning of empathy.

This would not have been possible without my parents. Through their actions and family or house-oriented thoughts and plans, me and my sis have learned the power of empathy in consoling one another.

And that thought that now, it'll just be me and my four walls, with no one to physically bicker about makes me rather, well, sad. I mean, blood is thicker than water. But within blood itself, there are several thickness standards. The standard between me and her is one of the highest.

Oh, I can say she'll be definitely happy when she's moving out. For a lot of reasons. I mean, we're talking about ownership, land/room/territory disputes, placement of objects, tidiness of clothes, and the list goes on and on and on.

Yet, no matter what, I know she's just a whatsapp away.

Who is she?

She busies herself within the house
reorganizing the inner structure
to an inner mental map she has
in her head
that's always changing.

Her hands do not idle,
her feet do not keep still.
A cupboard here, a bed there,
Here today and gone somewhere tomorrow.

Anything that collects dust is but a parasite
Anything that is too messy
that is too untidy
that is too unpleasant for the eyes
is immediately snatched up and
thrust into a storage space.

A cupboard
A drawer
A box
Does it matter where?

Like water in its liquid form,
that's ever changing to conform to its bearer
wearing me down

I'm tired.

Your house. Not mine.

That feeling when...

That feeling when... a fellow classmate sends you his assignment to look through, and you realize it's ten times way better than yours which you submitted five minutes ago.

23

Ever since secondary school, I've always had the urge to help my friends. I used to exchange loads of letters with my friends. These letters would be bundled with teenage angst, suicidal intentions, overpowering emotions, doubts and insecurities about self-identities and self-realizations.

So I grew up and thought to myself 'perhaps I shall be a psychologist and study how the minds of people work.'

Then I fell victim to the strain of media that courses through my bloodline and studied media. Along the way, I did what I always did automatically.

As such, I would most definitely say it comes as no surprise to self that it was with much passion I currently work in the customer service sector. And I plan to stay here for life.

I have always yearned for a job that would be exciting and present fresh challenges every day. Along the way, it would also be engaging and yet at the same time, allow me to unleash my vocal bombardment and persuasive verbal logic of reasoning.

Yet, this job allows me to bring out the best of my qualities and raise them up to another level. Patience. Self-control. Humility.

I won't deny it has its challenges. After all, whom would want to be yelled at daily, or scolded, or be endlessly disputed with. But I believe behind every tiff lies a story.

Above all, I am most certainly blessed with a supportive life companion, an awesome sister, two enriching and rewarding occupations, leading to a very fulfilling and empowering life. :)

RIP John Dye

I was watching the 63rd Emmy Awards the other day, and there was this section of the show where they paid tribute to key personnel that has passed on such as actors and actresses as well as directors and scriptwriters. It was with sadness that I realized John Dye has passed on.

I remember him most significantly in the TV series Touched By An Angel. My family would watch that show while eating dinner. It was a damn awesome show that evoked much fuzzy feelings inside, and taught me all about love. It was all about the simple things really.

In the TV shows, John starred as the Angel of Death. He would always appear in the scenes with this sad face full of anguish at horrible deaths, or at un-peaceful passing ons.

If I could, I would definitely collect the whole seasons of Touched By An Angel, and watch it over and over again with my family.

Red and White flashing strobing illuminating

Red and white lights
Flashing.
Down the street into the blocks
Strobing.

Faces ash-white, eyes
Trailing.
Smell of life and death
Lingering.

Close your eyes to escape the
blinking.
Shut your windows to avoid the
flickering.

of the red and white lights
flashing and
strobing and
flickering
and blinking
and never-ending.

My Friend

To my friend whom just turned 23.

A chap once said: “There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”

Never let the feeling of failure bring you down. Rather, ride on it and let it propel you forward to the realm of success. May every step backwards empower to take two forward.

In our 6 years of friendship, I am confident I have been there for you where possible. Though we had certain rough moments in time where we chose to self-censor our criticisms of each other, and move on, there were moments were advice were mutually dished out in brutal honesty.

Now is such a moment as well. I believe that the value of age and the short length of life has shown up at your door. With a stark realization, you are forced to ponder certain questions and issues that did not puzzle you before. Tears are seen as weaknesses, as are lack of self-control of emotions.

But how can we not be humans if we do not have emotions? It would be so easy to hold your hand and wipe your tears away and say that it will be alright. I know you know it will not. More challenges will pass by your way in the days to come, that will tear you down, build you up, and raise you to higher heights.

As you embark on self-improvement and strive to take heed of your actions and emotions, remember not to self-censor yourself too much, lest other people wonder who you truly are and think of you as a fraud.

I dare say that you are a part of what has helped me to realize my purpose in life. But, that's another post for another time. :)

The walk to life may seem short when reflected, but its value is measured in the shortness of seconds.

express trains

So I was taking a train from Pasir Ris to Boon Lay, and this idea struck me. Why not have express trains?

Imagine trains that didn't stop at every station. They would run on on tracks built along existing tracks, or at certain stations use the existing tracks.

They wouldn't stop at every station but only at selected stations, for example it starts at Pasir Ris, then stops at Eunos, then at Lavender, then till Redhill, then till Chinese Garden and ends at Joo Koon. Such an arrangement would skip the heavily congested places like City Hall or Paya Lebar, yet allow commuters to skip these stations if these aren't their destinations.

Think of it like express buses, but the rail version.

Moving forward though, I would envision a huge travellator that runs alongside these tracks. Starting would perhaps be a running track built alongside the mrt tracks, where runners can simply run around Singapore. This would aid the needy, and improve our fitness. Why take the train when you can enjoy a romantic walk with your love ones? Add in a breeze, and the picturesque scenery.

Alas, these are just fantasies. We are, after all, living in a space-constricted land.

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Mac Attack

Either Macs has gotten a new director or it has decided to ramp up its profits agressively, judging by its recent onslaught of promotions.

First there was the seaweed shaker fries. Then when we barely had time to exercise and lose the additional kilos in our quest to collect all the cups. After which came the twister fries to represent spiralling fireworks of the nation's birthday. Along with it came the chilli mcgrill, and soon after the pepper mcgrill. Now both mcgrills have been 'ungrilled', the cheese shaker fries comes in for the kill. Did I mention the quarter pounder with cheese and the big 'n' tasty?

I think Mac should just organize a SSS. Shake, Singapore, Shake. Where the whole nation will come together and bond and exercise regardless of race, language or religion and shake our fries together. Of course, we'll do this in a public place, in case our neighbors can't stand the noise.

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of opera

Sleeves that fly and sway against
The air, and brushes,
And shuffling of feet.

Of emperors amidst crashing cymbals,
Of princesses and partaking of wine,
And beauty and moon and long notes,
Is opera.

Tugging of strings repeatedly melody
And tunes.
Oh no!
The emperor is nowhere to be found!

A scandal emerges. A concubine!
Alas, the music heightens.

To get sent away, and get married
Without choice but the safety
Peace and harmony of two nations
Two warring states.

How great thou sacrifice. To live in a strange land, for the sake of your homeland.

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Rides Home

Night journeys home,
Each of us sits,
Lost in our thoughts,
In contemplation.

Beats that rumble,
Words don't mean a thing,
Driver yawns and moves on,
In constant tandem.

The soothing lights,
The push of cold air,
As the bus slowly lumbers
Along on its route,
In repetition.

Relaxing. Peace.
Calmness.
Blessed with what I have.
With whom I have.

If I were to die today,
Would it be of joy or grief
Or sadness or regrets?

I would pass on happily.

This is something that I haven't done for a long time. I used to ask myself at the end of each day, on my journey home. If the bus were to erupt in flames, and I flame on, would I die happily? Would i smile and accept the end of the journey, or fight because I have apologies not made, or work not done, relationships not treasured, persons that mattered.....

I would pass on happily, content in bliss.

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Water

Water inching struggling squirming
From middle to the side
Encouraged by the wind
Motivated by fast speeds.

Hurtling onto windshields but not
Hurting,
Shakingly on its journey.

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Look sir

Look sir, with your fancy names,
Don't you know that your nice persuasion
Blatant coercion does not work on me.

Your blunt distaste for workers in
The service sector and venting
Your verbal narrow mindedness
Does not yield you much good
And respect.

Why do people look down upon others?
Why do we throw scathing comments
Onto others?
To assert authority?
Or to garner respect?

Wealth, position and power are the three
Greatest destructors.
You, sir, have none.

Don't take solace that verbal conversations
Offer anonymity and increase your power.
Be wary of what lies on the other side of the cord
The power it beholds,
At turning your life upside down,
Who do you call when your phone is down?

Consider this fair warning, sir,
As you journey across life's path.
Make peace, not war.
Why resort to violence and empty threats?

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Local Games

While on a very long bus ride, my mind wandered and concluded maybe we need local games. Now, these games would most definitely appear to be rip-offs of internationally acclaimed games, yet when infused with local culture (and images), they might just be successful. Here are some of my ideas:

1) Taxi taxi.

Have you ever dreamt of being your own boss? Be a taxi driver today! Choose from a variety of models, and drive your fare-paying passengers around the streets of Singapore.

You can play the game in two versions - campaign, or chiong ah! In the first version, you start as a cab driver with the simplest car model available. You can choose if you want a full shift or a day or night half shift, and then you're off to pick up passengers, and abide by the law. This means no driving on the sidewalks, or beating red lights, or speeding. Over time, as your level and income increases, you get to unlock newer and better car models, and upgrade your vehicle. You also get to unlock new functions such as advance bookings.

In chiong ah! You have to earn as much income as you can within certain time limits, ranging from thirty seconds, to a day. You don't have to play by the rules in this version, though you should note that damages to your taxi will affect its speed.

2) Cooking zi cha

Why eat when you can cook it too? A localized time-management game, you own a zi cha store. You serve customers to their seats, then cook the dishes, like mui fan or chilli crab or hotplate tofu, and then serve to your customers, collect the bill and you're done.

When starting up, you have to do everything yourself. However, when you level up and have more cash, you can splurge on equipment upgrades, hiring more chefs or servers, and even outsource your clearing of rubbish! You can also choose to purchase tv sets or getai performances to entertain customers while they wait for food.

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Melaka Day 2

I had my cherry prodded, twisted, kneaded and tickled today, if cherry were to be defined for first time experiences.

I think only thick skinned people can go for a fish spa. How else do you stand the many tiny (or well-fed) fishes nibbling at all areas of your feet? My sis and I could not stop giggling like school kids when we plunged our feet in.

We managed to keep the whole feet in for three seconds, before slowly letting them suck on our heels. After all, the heels would be the least unfeeling part of the feet. Truly invigorating first experience though.

Personally I would prefer having my first time in a crowded fish spa. Imagine having your feet tickled, and when you look left and right, the other fish are eyeing your thigh. Add the disconcerting image of opening and closing of mouths as they breathe.

After which, I gamely went for a back massage. Owww. No pain, no gain right? Besides, what's there to lose (except RM20) anyway?

I think it was more of a crash course in gymnastics than massage, as the female masseur proceeded to contort my body into weird positions.

And yes, she did crack my neck twice, once on the left and once on the right. It was scary.

The day after, I went for another massage. This time, it was on one of the numerous massage chairs spread out in the shopping centre for RM1 for 3mins. The machine-ated massage was actually more pleasurable than the human massage though.

And, now to travel home. :)

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Malacca Day 1

As I write this, I am on the second level of a coach on my way to Malacca for a family getaway. The last civilian overseas trip I made was two to three years ago.

Back then, there were only one deck buses. Back then, you could grab chicken rice for 1.20.

I confess I am in a state of anxious excitement. My eyes greedily devour the sights in front of me. Luscious greens stretching till as far as my eye can see. Mountains outlines looming in the distance. Attap houses line the dirt tracks that run alongside the highway. Huge billboards erected scream with color and grasp for attention.

Yet, my mind is confused and uneasy. Oh towering blocks of flats with bamboo poles if clothes sticking out, where art thou forth? Where art thou, trees placed in one straight line beside roads?

How is it possible that there is 'nothing but blue skies for miles'? A short journey and I enter a different world.

These dirt paths bring back nostlagic memories of trekking in Thailand during my army days. Red dirt which is scarce in Singapore.

And as this journey progresses, my mind settles but briefly, ready to be reinvigorated by sights, smells and sounds.

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what are we?

What are we?

Below the color, below the shade,
Underneath the crimson fade,
Of the setting sun.

Beneath the value of our skin,
Tall short fat or lean,
Of the different physiques.

Different tongues and races,
Boasting of different faces,
Of our nation.

The chinese swears in hokkien.
The malay swears in hokkien,
The indians swears in hokkien.
And we all shove our way into the train.

What say you say me say I?
Please stand behind the yellow line.
Lah, don't pai seh.
Is not i dont give up my seat,
But cause i is dont know you fat or preg.

Chill luh, relak,
Dont angry la bro
Abang adeh everywhere we go
Le si member bo?

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Dreams at what a cost

Dreams.

They come and go.
Sometimes they instil a purpose in you.
A vision and a goal for a better
Tomorrow.

So you work hard towards it,
But while you're slogging at your labour,
Other dreams come alongside,
And so you prioritize.

But, when you have finally reached that
Original dream,
And after being waylaid by other
Dreams you realize you are trapped
In the circle of dreams.

Where realizing your dreams increases your
Debts
And clearing the debts require sacrifice
Of blood and sweat
And then another dream comes along,
And plunges you into financial misery.
But oh what emotional bliss
And personal satisfaction.

At what a cost.

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Lumos

Stare at any lightbulb.
Close your eyes.
What do you see?

You still see the light in the darkness.

Some people in life are like that.
No matter how dark you are,
Or no matter how hard you try to shut them out,
They will always be there,
In the corner of your mind,
Bright and ever shining like the sun.

Memorable, unforgettable, unreplaceable,
Lumos!

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Unlimited sessions of permanent hair removal

I subscribe to online coupons, and daily I receive notifications on new offers and good deals.

Recently, I received one, featuring unlimited sessions for permanent hair removal.

That immediately caught my eye. If the removal is permanent, why the need for more than one session, let alone unlimited sessions?

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My job or my life

My job isn't easy.
Some think that being in a call centre can be very senang, cause you don't meet and deal with customers' face to face. But they forget that the phone offers anonymity mutually, and that veil of pseudo-physicality results in customers being more blunt and vocal.

A conversation I had with a customer today lasted an hour. Not the longest I ever had, but it was certainly emotionally draining. Yet, despite the ill effects they have on me, customers always remind me of many life's statements. Such as, trust has to be earned. Also, acting blur can extend longevity.

Above all, my customers never fail to instil the sense of humanity in me. In this world of hardware and software, and technology and virtual reality blur the vision of reality, it is not easy to find humanity.

When was the last time you felt the pulse of your heart? Or stopped to breathe in fresh roses? Or savour the garlic of the bak kut teh?

At the end of the day, my customers remind me that I am but a human. There will always one above me, and one below me. There will always be harsh moments, and calm soothing ones. Though they illuminate my sad side, and induce compassion, they also reveal the vengeful angry unreasonable narrow-minded sides of them.

At what costs, do we discover ourselves?

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Poor cup of Acappuccino

If music be the food of love, then play on.
If singing be the meat in food, then Acappuccino please let me be a vegetarian.

I attended the first public performance of Acappuccino, a four year old local acapella group a few nights back.

It started out very very badly. It ended very very badly either.

Featuring 7 members, I think the group needs more public performances. Perhaps it was the bright spotlights, or the proximity of the audience to the singers (it was held at Esplanade's Recital Studio), I could clearly see the shock and nervousness written blatantly on one of the performer's face.

As part of their proceeds went to Japan Relief, their repertoire included numerous international songs. That said, it would only take but a few minutes to recite the names of the pieces a few time backstage. While I understand that foreign names such as Japanese might be a bit tricky in pronouncing, it isn't really very professional to read off the score, stumble over it the first time, and then recite it twice. For a moment, I wondered if they only received the score that very same day.

The second half was no better. There were times where the music seemed to pick up, and I thought that they were getting good. In fact, their Lion King song was quite palatable.

Despite that, and a rather uplifting piece when they were seated down on high chairs, the performance was a let-down. One of their singers was flat throughout her solos, and the they might consider either hiring an emcee or improving their hosting skills.

When you're performing in front of an audience, cracking internal jokes, or stopping after eight bars, just to re-tune with each other, isn't ethical.

I can only hope that they improve for their next performance. Even if part of your proceeds are for the relief efforts in Japan, and you have an array of pieces arranged by international composers, you still need heaps of work, and perhaps start by singing together on the same tempo.

ONS

I had a one night stand recently.

It was just me and a warm pussy for one night.
She wasn't very fussy, didn't make much noise.
Wasn't very demanding.
Even woke me up with a lick of my cheek.
Like how often can you get that?

I had arrived home laden with groceries,
and found her curled up against my gate,
Looking at me with such woeful eyes,
melting my heart faster than the scorching heat,

I immediately dumped my groceries, bought a packet of cat food,
and invited her in.
She might have been someone's pet though; I ain't sure.
Her right ear was clipped, but she didn't have a collar.
Her nails weren't trimmed, but she was rather tame for a wild act.

She came in, walked a round, and made herself very comfortable
on the middle of my bed.
That night was one of the best nights I ever had in my life.

In fact, I think next time when I get my own loft,
I'll rear a cat and a dog. :D

Ah, poor lad.

Ah, poor lad.

He speaks to his mum seated beside him on the bus. In a sad but composed tone, he says "you lie to me", his eyes glistening. "You say it wasn't there but when I went home, it was there."

Silence.

Nay a reply. Neither a rebuff nor a reprimand.

"You lie to me. Which mother lies to her son?" he utters, his face full of blatant disappointment. In those few minutes, the bridge of trust built over the years has crumbled. The firm foundations of integrity and honesty that shaped his life are now wobbling, and cracks of distrust and hurt appear.

Time stops. All those seated around are listening intently, more attentive than a student in school, or the man on the street watching the counting and recounting and recounting of votes.

As I alight from the bus, my eyes meet with the other passengers, and the thoughts exchanged are the same.

Ah, poor lad.

Really Random Rhymings

Coffee sloshing from side to side
Streaming through the window panes sunlight
Day by the day, the critics fight
Till alas, they reduced and died.

One by one, they'll rise again,
Onwards to destroy and maime,
Make them deaf and mute and lame.
Never will they ever be sane.

Atop the waves we will ride
Among the shadows none of us will hide
And hand in hand
together we'll glide.

Analysis of Post

The author constantly speaks in a personally intimate subject by the many usages of 'you' and throughout the whole post, there is only one 'my'. The choice of such a word would most likely signify that the subject is aware of her current situation and not in denial.

The short sentences that end with periods may not indicate closure or the end of the sentence, but rather as a symbol to indicate a pause or a moment where the author reflects or takes a breath to think.

The phrase 'help you score points and eventually move you up the ranks' seem to weigh heavily and appears to be an important issue for the author. Perhaps it might be the crux of the post which is the issue of being in charge or authority?

Overall, the article has a rather aggressive tone and leans more towards accusing than defensive or explanatory. This is also supported by the disjointed sentence structures. Furthermore, the shift from past to present to past tense through the whole article indicates a certain level of confusion present (no pun intended).

randomnessess

pin drops of water
diluted saliva
with saline content
and malicious intent.

bloodcurling tao huey
piping hot teochew mui
prata la deh
oi what did you say?

the benches face the sea
they seat none but see many
walk by and watch many
lives pass and witness many
sunrises and sunsets galore.

murder and mystery
at a well known eatery
involving some pottery
and the weekly lottery.

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Cards N Such

I have a godsis from secondary school whom I would send cards annually on her birthday and christmas. This year, I simply wished her on her facebook wall.

She thanked me and then asked how come there wasn't any card received this year. It jolted me.

Sometimes we do or send or give stuff that isn't reciprocated. It could be a sacrifice of our time to be with someone. It could be travelling from the east to the west just for that half an hour. Or it could be controlling your tongue and not lashing back in a frequent verbal dispute.

Yet, little do we know how blessed the other party is. At times like this, what we should do is to sit and think of the original purpose of the action. One of the greater types of love is unreciprocated love, Through it, we give more of ourselves, and receive less, if not nothing, in return. Yet, we still give.

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Washing hands

Have you ever analysed your own actions? Not decisions, but actions, for example washing your hands.

Do you rub both hands together swiftly but with a higher frequency or rub them slowly and deeply? Or do you treat each hand as a separate entity and each rubs itself?

Could there be a psychological reasoning for the method of washing hands?

Think about it.

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Can or Cannot

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to catch a performance held at the Esplanade concourse. As part of its Flipside festival, dedicated to showcasing the lighthearted side of life, 'Can Or Cannot' was hosted by Vernetta Lopez and a cast of three actresses and one actor.

The thirty minutes performance consisted of improvised skits where the cast had to think on their feet and come up with lines based either on random letters of the alphabet or based on lines contributed by the audience.

While the idea is most definitely creative, it certainly isn't original as any person who has watched Whose Line Is It Anyway would tell you. A blatant reproduction but with localized segment names.

Personally, I felt it was a flop. For one, the hostress was speaking too fast, and whether it be the sound system or her muffled voice, she was very unclear. While kudos to the audience for being active in cheering and clapping, the cast could have been more entertaining, this reviewer feels.

Indeed, if it weren't for blatant humor such as lines, written by the audience prior to the show, being read out at random moments, the show would have failed terribly.

One issue the producers might consider is that we do not have a definite spelling dictionary. K can be kingdom. K can also be kanasai. Also, perhaps one might play around more with a younger cast. There were times the jokes fell through, perhaps due to generation gap or age differences. There's a line between lame and funny. They were clearly in the former category.

I certainly look forward to future renditions of this 'format' of improvisation. Whose Line Is It Anyway did make it till the 8th season in the UK, and there is no reason why it cannot be replicated locally as well.

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Day you were born or days you are living?

Being up so early brings me back to my army days where I had to arise at four thirty in the morning to collect morning rations. I would wake up groggily and together with a platoon-mate, we would drag our feet to the cookhouse zombiefied to collect twenty-odd packets of food.

It starts me comparing between life then and now. Two different purposes, two different environments. Is it better to have a common goal or an individuual goal? Or both?

Each of us in the platoon had our own aspirations be it a graduate or employer or scientist or teacher. Yet, we all had the common goal to complete our army stint as soon as possible.

Have you ever wondered which is more important - the day you were born or the days you are living?

Most would say the day you were born becauuse without it there would not be days you are living. But what benefit did the day you were born provide, save for a slap on the butt?
Were you able to donate your tears, or counsel other newborns?

So then, I put it to you that yes the day you were born is important, but the days you are living is more important. It defines you, and others around you. Through it, you learn patience. and hardness, and wholesome development of your soul. You take on the lives of others and set and achieve aspirations and goals. Of what good use would the day you were born be, if you have been living as a drunkard or sluggard or more?

It is good to be born. It is better to be living.

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What am I?

I move people.

I am unbias, and unjudging. I enforce order in the lives of those who ride me. Yet, I do not complain. I endure the scathing insults of my pace, or lack of it.

I am but a constant in lives. I do not get a chance to travel the world and see its beauty, but I witness the beauty of those that make the world - people.

I watch babies sleeping in their mothers' arms grow to playful kids running around my metal shiny poles, to teenagers with earphones embedded in their ears, to working adults, to becoming parents again. The ageing transformation from black to white, I am but a silent witness.

What am I?

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dear child

dear child, why do
you frown so much
and so tightly?

Are the worries of the world
upon your shoulder
or only books of knowledge
and power

Is the noose around the neck
are deadlines stifling and
suffocating you
depriving you of air?

dear child,
why do you frown so much?
try to stop and smell the roses
or perhaps, spot them
first.

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We are mere mortals

I was working the other night for a local musical at an international acclaimed arts venue. After the musical, the artistes held an autograph session and I was positioned at the front of the queue to facilitate crowd movement.

Being at the front of the queue meant I was standing a feet away from a local male artiste, though he's more popular for his female role.

And our eyes met. Now before you start thinking of bizarre fantasies or homosexual chemistry tendencies, let me clarify that there was no love lost between me and him.

In fact, I had a brief glimpse of loneliness and fatigue. In that quick moment of clarity and bareness of the soul, I came to one realization. We are mere mortals.

No matter what positions we hold in social circles, or how high we are on the career ladder, or how famous we are due to some hit about a certain day of the week, or to never say never, we are just mere mortals.

Before you chase for fame or glory, or stab the back in front of you, pause and take a minute to know that the neighbor beside you is as human as you are.

We are mere mortals, not gods.

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Lead by example

As I blog this, I am seated at a kopitiam. The auntie (aunty?) sitting beside me has just commented how uncomfortable she is feeling due to a lack of coffee for a week or so. Then she moves on to ask why the coffee lady isn't around and no one takes her order.

All these, she says while she is eating her sliced fish bee hoon and seated five seats from the drinks stall.

Makes you wonder what example the younger generation are suppose to follow.

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excuses reasons

Knowledge isn't a good thing.
Say, for example, you know how a certain process is done, like maybe an installment plan or a refund. You tell the customer that it will take two to three weeks subject to approval by the finance department. And the customer shoots you down and compares to every other company which can do it better, faster, easier.

So you explain yourself, but it gets shot down again as 'a lot of excuses'.

How do you help a customer who insists on jumping off the cliff? Do you jump with him?

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Money

Money.
Some say it is not easily earned;
that it is borne out of sweat and blood;
of toiling in the sun and backbreaking work.

But what if you enjoy your work?
Then, money does not seem to be
that harsh and merciless.

Yet what use if it comes easy
but never enough for stability
and insufficient to chase away insecurity
nor able to induce independency?

It's not whether we dream,
or that we need encouragement to dream.
What we need is your money.

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the marvel of my work and a story idea

The marvel of my work is
the importance of voice.

I have quite a few regular customers
whom look for me when they have billing issues, and I am only too happy to assist. Who would resist unfussy customers?

They just want someone to hear them out, not throw them into another department, and to just settle their issues for them. and offer a (virtual) tissue.

After a few months of verbal interaction, and numerous calls, it can be very soothing to converse with them. No need to worry if they suddenly want to speak to a manager or not. No need to worry if they want to complain. Instead, my only concern is that some other agents mistreat them.

Protective? Yes, I am. Imagine you nurture a toddler since young, pick him up when he falls, watch him take his first steps, help him in his math homework. Then someone else walks by and makes him walk the plank.

To think of it, I am on a first name basis with some of them. And all are females, leading me to wonder, other than my hotline name, perhaps there's psychology involved as well.

I would love to write out a tv show of a budding romance between a call centre agent and a customer who later works in the same company. Now, that would be something to behold.

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communication

I believe communication should be fluid.
The ebb and the flow,
should always be in constant liquidity.
Like water, it should not conform to a fixed shape.
So, why limit to just phone calls and messages?
Expan your horizons.
Live your dreams.
Use whatsapp or skype
prerecord or use a mic
hotmail gmail or facebook chat
or snap a pic to show where ya at

Don't limit your avenues of conversation.
Instead, let them merge, and converge,
never diverge.

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Primeval

Have you ever wondered how dinosaurs look like? Or what would happen if prehistoric beasts existed in the modern concrete jungle?

The Primeval can satisfy your ancestor-ing needs. Set in the modern times, the show revolves around a group of educated personnel who discover a series of anomalies, in essence loopholes in the tapestry of space, making time travel between the past and the present possible.

It's like instead of traveling on the East-West line and then switching to the North-South line, you just take the train on the Circle line.

As the show originates from England, do expect lots of British accents. Don't expect the creatures to be Discovery Channel or National Geographic standard though. Nevertheless, the battle scenes are quite exciting to behold.

Do check it out if you have the chance. Just get it at the usual spot.

blood thicker than water

The plates move apart from each other
A slight trembling within the feet
The heart gets shaken

Blood thicker than water
But anger is the thickest of them all

To apologize for something not of me
negligence
I simply cannot take it further.

To submit, to bow
To grovel
To bury my head in the sand.

Aren't you teaching me the wrong values
of retaining anger and not being forgiving

That which divides thickness
is no deeper than the grave.
That which lies within the grave
dissipates the thickness.

I got threatened yesterday

I got threatened yesterday.
Of course, technically the word threatened might not be appropriate as I was rather bemused by my caller.

She had not been paying her bills for six months, and in what she might have deemed as firm and convincing tone, she told me to get it reconnected as her husband is angry and she does not know what he will do to me.

I did not reconnect.

We can fake orgasms but we can't fake fear. To tell me in a calm and firm voice that your husband is angry and might do something only indicates that either you married a person you do not know, or simply that you're trying to use the power of a threat.

And in your case, ma'am, it failed.

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if

If knowledge is power,
and ignorance is bliss,
therefore we all are faced with the choice
of power or bliss.

Don't forget health is wealth,
and prudence is prosperity.

And all will go smooth in life
because a stitch in time
saves nine.

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click click

click click

computer mouse
camera
pen
finger snapping
high heels walking
rubbing of two toes together
opening of a clamshell phone
two wooden clams struck together as part of a 对话 performance

A friend told me click click
What did you first think of?

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Green sheets rises.

Green leaves swaying in the wind
Powerful gust
Orange leaf falls.

Heartbeats amidst pulsating bodies
Sheets
The curtain falls.

Raindrops upon attap roofs
Warmth
The sun rises.

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computers ftw

My neighbor wanted to use my computer a few days ago, or so my mum told me. My mum told my neighbor she didn't know how to use the computer so she couldn't agree.

The first thought that came to me was 'no way was I going to let a stranger use my computer'. And so it struck me how protective I was about a piece of metal.

The computer has evolved from simple machines tasked to think, and crunch up numbers, and form the c in computer, to a personal assistant and life balancer. We depend on it on a daily basis. Not only does it control and grant access to our online personas, it holds our physical life intact as well.

I can't imagine the damage a stranger can do to my computer. The various accounts holding my most private data, like credit cards or addresses etc. It actually frightens me.

Furthermore, imagine if through misconduct or ignorance, a stranger introduces a virus or a hacking tool into my computer.

Who will bear the cost?

Certainly not the stranger.

Computers ftw.

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cards n such

the future is all about cards and such.
Or so we're led to believe.

Ez link cards. debit cards. credit cards. membership cards. prepaid cards. top up cards. name cards. and the list goes on.

It's like we'll never get tired of owning plastic. Which is ironic, cause we're trying to save the earth and reduce the amount of paper used by increasing the amount of plastic.

But I don't think the future is in cards. I think the next step is for shops or restaurants who has membership cards to virtualize it. Show an app or scan it in to get your member discounts. Or even simply key in the member's IC number.

The problem with apps is that no one knows which OS to create it for. Apple, android, windows, RIM or symbian? Why not just make em all? After all, there won't be any new OS coming out soon. and even if there were, it wouldn't survive long. Unless it's open-source. But that would bring about security issues.

So. an app would be nice. Or perhaps a gadget that can absorb all such membership information. Imagine a small device like a dongle. It has a usb chip on it, that can be accessed at shops and restaurants. Companies upload its information onto it. You simply scan some unique barcode on it and the restaurant or shop will automatically tag in the discount for you. Like a universal card reader, only we are not talking about memory cards.

What do ya think?

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where do you sit when you board the bus?

I've been thinking.
Our personality is expressed through mannerisms, like where we sit when we board the bus.

Imagine it's night, and you board the bus.
There's you, the driver and two other passengers who are sitting on separate seats on the right side of the bus.

Do you

a) sit at the back of the left side?
b) sit at the front of the left side?
c) sit at the front of the right side?
d) sit between the two passengers on the right side?
e) sit at the back of the right side?
f) stand?


a) You want to stick out from the majority, but you rather be a following of the minority than a leader. You might have a slight sense of wanting to be separate from the pack. You have no qualms about being by yourself, and solitude is your refuge.

b) You are a leader of the minority, though size of the group may not be an issue. You aren't afraid to stand out from the rise, and have enough charisma to attract followers. On the other hand, you might bail out at the first sight of trouble, and this might be an issue for you in the future. You might be in it for fame and glory, but your shoddy foundation might break you down in strong winds.

c) You are a leader of the majority. You keep your followers close, but your exits even closer and only trial will tell if you are made of steel or cheap wood.

d) You prefer to be in the midst of people, but lingering within them and not standing out. If need be, you rather be in the shadows, though that is not of utmost importance for you. Rather, you want to be insignificant and unseen to the non-observant people.

e) You live in the shadows and dwell in solitude. You secretly admire the leaders and aspire to be them. However, you need to move out of your comfort zone to achieve that ambition. Dare you take the risk?

f) You have a fear of everything around you. You are independent, and self-reliant, but this spurns people away from you. You also are always in a rush and can never seem to relax or not be stressed. You need help!

In retrospect, this looks like some Aunt Agony from Teenage magazine or some astrological sign page of newspapers eh.

did you ever imagine

Soprano and a bass
did you ever hear such a pair
A duet of such a difference
on such a large scale.

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What's in a name?

What's in a name?

Ridicule, shame, embarrassment.
Pride, anger, satisfaction.
Quality, productivity, efficiency.
Laziness, sluggish, deprived.
Talented, mysterious, intrigued.

What's in your name?

Life is two in one

Life is like drops of rain
on a window pane.

Each individual drop of rain for
each significant life.
Alone, segmented, sole.

Till the winds of change,
or the movements of time,
breeze across the pane,
juggle and shift,
adjust and lift,
and two drops become one.

Have you noticed how two drops of water merges into one?
They lean towards each other, and be conjoined
in a new spot in the middle of them.
They leave their current position,
never looking back at their solitude,
and merge into one well-endowed drop.

Twice the value,
twice the nutrients,
twice the talent.
In one.

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I

I run
knowing that every breath I take,
every second I pant,
is a breath closer,
is a second nearer
towards you.


I press on in my assignment
towards my target of 3000 words
completing my summary
and barely starting on the body
knowing that every word I type,
every sentence I craft,
is one word less
to meeting you.

If time could be sped up,
yet it is swift when we are united.
Why does it slow down when we are
separated.
Long days and short nights make for
long partings and short meetings.

as

tingle as skin upon
skin as crackle
of electricity bursts
from within as desire
a lustful sin as a climax
to a blushing grin.

sandy beach
clear white sand
two pairs of footprints
and a couple hand in hand

the sun heads down into
the ocean floor
leaving his sister
to hold the tide

Atlas holds up the sky
as Perseus wanders by.
And Odysess slowly makes his way
back home.

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why should we

Why should we give up our seats
to kids?

Would that not be leading to a downward spiral of social graces? Would not these kids grow up under the impression that they are entitled to seats and would not give it up to anyone?

Or perhaps this was what happened before, thus the spotlight on youths whom do not give up their seats to the elderly.

But what is elderly? How do we define age? Is there a benchmark? With dyed hair, botox, breast implants, a 50 year old can look like a 40 year old can look like a 30 year old. Surely we can't be checking their ICs for verification?

Is it really the fault of the younger generation of not being graceful? What about the future then?

Kids are growing up, with maids carrying their schoolbags, and meals already cooked and placed on the tables, or sometimes even served to them. They wake up to a set of ironed uniform waiting to be worn, breakfast on the table, and allowance on the desk.

Pampered child? Efficient parents? Disciplined maid?

Who is right or wrong? Is there a right or wrong? More importantly, which side is the media on?

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media burnout

I'm getting a bit tired from studying about media. To think that I've studied it for three years and will do so for another year or part thereof.

Sure, it's fun. But when you keep studying effects of media on people, and its persuasive abilities; or agenda setting via articles; I get a bit disillusioned.

Maybe I'm more one to one basis. I would rather deal with one person at a time, than impact a whole audience at the same time.

I don't think I'll be a journalist. Yes, I can write. after alls, euu dun c journalizsts rite lk these. But writing isn't all about it, journalists have to be ruthless and fake empathy. How many times can one feel for a victim of a hit and run, or a family devasted by a natural disaster? And one has to prod and poke to retrieve all the details too.

Do you realize, that the media needs natural disasters and mankind's seven deadly sins, to be profitable? Nobody wants to read about unsensational news. That's what blogs are for.

I'm a bit disillusioned. Maybe burning out. I might be a tech journalist. Or perhaps the entertainment sector of media, like audio editing.

But for now, it's just me and my callers.

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life is a story

We all have stories in life.
Previously, we shared stories.
Now we create a story.

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Window shopping

In the past, window shopping meant physically trawling through the mall, and peering at delicate clothes on mannequins with perfect body shapes behind glass windows.

Now, window shopping means virtually clicking on links, and zooming in on pixellated clothes on photoshopped bodies in different browser windows.

Times have changed.

you smash my worlds

You smash my worlds apart
now why did I trust you so much last time
foolhardy I behaved with you.

You young child
claiming innocence
simple in thinking,
but not far.
You know not an iota of the consequences
of your actions.

My worlds were separated and
I had allowed you a glimpse of the second
universe
and now through your childishness
you wrecked both
and smashed them together.

So i pick up the pieces and trudge on
to another battle, to a field yonder
and find someone who can forge back
the pieces and mash the worlds
back together.

I didn't ask for a parting gift.
and yet you exploit the weakness I have
and in the future when your world disintegrates
if you should ever find me,
I wont turn you away.

By then, my world will be mashed and complete.

That you would grow up faster, child,
lest your actions lead to your downfall
and life knocks you on the head
and then leaves you for dead.

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Do for me

Be a good friend and help me do this survey.

http://www.esurveyspro.com/Survey.aspx?id=ebb87dff-c7fa-4c7f-af61-6d8b9ec9c381

Thank you! :)

slow as a snail

We call slow people snails.
Perhaps when snails talk within themselves,
they joke and jibber at our pace,
and call fast snails people.

That said, if snails do communicate with one another, they would have good long distance communications. And long distance relationships too, for the snails which are together.

They do seem so lonely eh.
Carring a huge shell on their back
Trudging towards who knows where
Just moving steadily
at its predestined pace.

Like so many of us too.

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Virtual reality

Most end of times predict a world economy as a sign. Some may call it by different names but regardless whether it's a unified currency, or a single economy, or a world money form, the definition doesn't vary.

This has led to speculation as to which currency this would be. Could it be the US, a strong contender, or perhaps China, a growing market?

But what if this currency, that is predicted at world's end, is not a nation's money?

Macdonald's has an outlet in nearly every country. Imagine if they were to come up with a prepaid card payment system. After this is implemented, they announce that cash will not be accepted, and all you need to enjoy a burger, in whichever country you are, is just a card. With this, you could literally gift-a-burger to your penpal in another partner of the world, by crediting the card.

With this in mind, ponder the possibilty of a world currency being virtual. Could the new world currency be facebook credits?

We need to widen our thinking. No longer are we living by physical means anymore. We are living by virtual means.

What do I mean?

Your salary is credited to your bank account. You use your card to pay for meals. Or to buy clothes from amazon. You use internet banking to pay bills. All these do not require the usage of hard cash.

This is virtual reality. Reality becoming virtual.

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What to study

Have you ever thought
what you would study?

I mean, if you could create and choose your modules,
and not bound by costs.

I thought about mine.

I would take a module in greek mythology, in christian history, in psychology, in learning malay, and in creating an e-commerce website.

Of course, the question would then be what on earth would such a degree ever be named.
And I have no clue.

But can this be done?

I would very much choose to believe so.
I believe in the future, students are able to customize their modules
and that in that new era, employers don't question what major is your degree in
or which university is from
but rather what skills do you have
and what knowledge do you know.

The future will be a knowledge based economy.
So why worry about the name of the university
or the nature of the degree
and neglect the knowledge one has gleamed
and is able to boost the company?

a whole new world

She was at the crossroads.
And for a time, she stood.
Searched among the stars,
Inquired of the compass,
Drew upon the sand.

She chose.

Now, she walks on.
Trudging along this path she has chosen.
What does she see in the horizon?
A rising sun or the setting?
A mirage or an oasis?
Does she head towards a field
brimming of life,
abound with blooming flowers
and nature's scent?
Or does she head downwards?
Into the spiral of despair and
plunge into the depths of guilt?

But, lo, what do we have here.
Another character joins the story.
With a low hat, and a grain of wheat
between his teeth,
he walks with her.
Neither in front, or behind,
but on par.

He says nay a thing,
But walks on by.
Towards the frontiers of
a whole new world.

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Imagine

Say you were going to meet your friend.
But you have time to kill.
So you take the train down towards the place your friend is coming from
Against the direction your friend is travelling
And mid way, you alight and take the train going in the correct direction
in the hope of meeting your friend.

You alight, cross over, and enter at the same door
at the exact line of position.
And there your friend sits
And the whole carriage is filled
Save for one empty seat beside your friend

Now what are the chances of that happening?

Each car has 4 doors. Each train has 3 cars.
So that chance of the same door works out to be 1 in 12.

Each train has 148 seats, so that works out to 1 in 148.

Combined, both would equate to 1 in 1776.
Not that high, if you compare that the chance of winning the toto jackpot is 1 in 8.4 million.

But high enough for me.


Brother to many,
Lover to none.

Perhaps though, you will make it one.

something

Something struck a chord in me
when you said that line.

You reminded me of my mother.
The tone she'll use
to assert her power and authority
that leaves no room for discussion
Even if she is wrong at the end of the
day.

And something bristled within me
In retaliation
In reaction
To that.

Now, I fear a wall will come up
every time I see you.
Partly afraid to hear what you'll speak.
Cause I'm adverse to that tone.

and perhaps I already do.

Chris Medina - What Are Words

For you.

you

i walked past you.
our eyes met
you only spoke three words
from the bottom of your heart
and stomach
with pleading eyes you
uttered
i want oreo.
i looked at you
speechless
expressionless
thoughtless
gave you my most neutral reaction
and walked past you
without a word.

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colors

Kaleidoscope.
Colors abound
Riveting rivers of red.
Blooming brooks of blue.
Youthful yatches of yellow.
Gasping goblets of green.
Come take a peek into my life
See the colors abounding in front of me.
Dip your hand in the river
See it turn fuschia
See it turn tranquail
See it turn lilac.

Run down the field of gold
Blow white cotton puffs into the sky
Lie in yellow sun wheat
Somersault against soft pink petals.

Walk with me down the path of life
And why not let our paths converge?
Here, take my hand,
But then you have to let go of the other
Hand you're holding now.
Would you?

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happy sister day

Someone sent me a message,
Saying it is happy sisters day,
And to forward the message along to ten sisters.

I don't know how to respond.

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break free

Sometimes we should break free from the norm.
Most of us do that, but in an extravagant manner, holidays massages spas buffets.
What about doing it on a small scale?
Like instead of automatically plugging in the earphones, to just not listen to any music. And listen. After all, our ears are always actively recording. The crux is whether the record is to be deleted or to be retrieved.

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positive nothing.

Singaporeans are a very complaining bunch.
And we always resort to threats.
Sure, it doesn't have to really criminal intimidation or life threats or paint on the walls with telephone numbers.
We don't brandish knives or raise parangs to emphasize our points.
We merely quote CEO names and baseless threats to 'complain you ah'.
It can be rather interesting how people quote the name of your company's CEO to put pressure on you. And not just once, but a few times within the same sentence as well. Sure, a group has more power than a lone person, but repetition actually decreases the weight and diminishes the effect.

When I hear a customer throw out the name of my CEO, I actually end up giving substandard service. It actually backfires because firstly, if you were that chum with the CEO, you wouldn't be calling in. You would be calling him. Secondly, dropping the CEO's name actually means you aren't appreciative of what I've done so far. And so you try to use his name to warrant more action. But you already have this mental barrier erected that limits the help I can provide you with. Most people don't realize this.

That's why we're a peaceful bunch of people. We don't know how to make the right threats to get good service. We react negatively like 'I'll sue you' or 'I'll complain you ah' instead of trying to use positive terms to help us serve you better. Thus our negative threats that equal to a positive nothing.

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destitute solitude

He places a coffin standing erect at the edge of the cliff.
The door is open. And can only be opened from the outside.
He sprints and leaps towards it,
The force pushing it off the cliff,
Into the raging waters,
The force closing the door and locking him in,
The force of his own skin.

The coffin bobs sinks and rises
With each swelling wave.

Leave me. Taunt me.
Stab me with thy piercing gaze.
He takes a rock and throws at himself
Within the mirror
The mirror cracks
Yet the stoic gaze remains fixed on him.
On me.

He drags his feet across
The sound of dragged chains.
The manacles tied to a rock.

He sobs he tears
He lowers to his knee
He starves his own shadow
With evil maniacal glee
His laugh resounds through the cave.

The sun hides from his shame
Darkness swops in
Laughing cackily
Horns and thorns
Pitter pattering of feet.

Flying daggers
Arrows
All pierce
His soft skull.

He sits on the cliff by the sea
Watching waiting.
But for the sun to rise or for the sun to set.

Death to him.
Rotting from the inside out.
Darkness.
Grief.
Silence.
Of the thump of a heartbeat.
Even the crickets hush.

And angels pass over.

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please

Please don't be my rebound.
Please don't be my rebound.
Please don't be my rebound.
Please don't be my rebound.
Please don't be my rebound.

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the wind

The wind blows ever so gentle
Whispering to my ear
Of hopes and dreams and a
Future to look forward to
Of dashes and sashes
Of hits and the misses.

The wind swirls around me ever so lovingly
Murmuring into my soul
Of love and misplaced hatred
Of death and displaced anger
Of life and unseen hope
Of bright rays streaming through
The clouds.

The wind pushes me back
As i stand atop the cliff
Fighting to drain my sorrow
With aspirations and beliefs
And on it, I fly away.
Amidst white puffy clouds,
And the reassuring warmth of the sun,
and soft melody of harps nearby.

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Italian Proverbs

I came across this Italian proverb:

"Chi mangia solo crepa solo"

It means: "He who eats alone dies alone".

And so, my death is forecasted by an Italian proverb. I will die alone. That rules out accidents, airplane crashes, boat capsizing, biochemical attack....

If someone tells you you're gonna die alone, do you feel happy or sad?

low profile

I tried to be low profile at work.
Not be very well-known.
Not know very well.
But it was very very hard.
So I gave up, and tried in school.

But now it's becoming increasingly hard to be low profile.
How to, when you have a debate and various presentations?

And sometimes I have to rein it in.
The impulse to make small talk
To charm the girl beside me.
Or scare her off.
It's like controlling your fart.
Sometimes it works.
Sometimes it backfires.

And so now I'm trying to find the balance.
To unleash all this bottled-upp chattiness
And friendliness and warmth and concern during work,
And to be cold and composed and quiet in school.

This is going to be hard.

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ray of illumination

He stumbles in the darkness
He fumbles for the light switch
It isn't there.

He treds cautiously
With prudence
With patience
Towards the door
It isn't there.

He stretches out his hands
For any of the walls
Or for any object to grope
There aren't any.

Then a prick of light.
A ray of hope.
A beam of illumination
Chance of salvation

You don't light up my life.
You're the light in my life.
But the wax is melting fast
And nearing the end
How can the wick still burn
When there is no more wax?

Sizzle and be extinguished.
I need someone distinguished.
Memories relished.

Well, at least there's you.

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and i failed my own test

And looking back on
The night we spent together
As we laid on the lone bed
I realized i had failed
My own test.

Of control.
Of trust.
From that night on,
I had lost all belief in myself.
In that aspect.

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我很快乐

我很快乐
请不要再说你爱我

pining for a lost cause

Pining for a lost cause.

When you smile,
The whole of my world smiles with you.
When you giggle,
My whole world shakes and responds in kind.

And now we're worlds apart.
But a galaxy away i am.
what is this that is written in the stars
Your arrival
Your departure
The birth of a supernova
But the stars aren't placed right.
The birth passes by.
In its wake shooting stars.

I will miss you.
I already do.

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Dream sequel

I dreamt a sequel a few nights ago.

Dreams are fascinating wisps of visions bordering on reality and fantasy, somewhere in the category of insanity.

I dreamt i was charging up the stairs and into a classroom. I proceeded to pry open the individual window panes at the back, so as to exit from there and leap into another world, where there were caves and weird dwellings. I had to retrieve a mystical object to save the earth or something like that.

I had actually dreamt this - setting and mission - before. And my mind had actually remembered that, because interestingly enough, I remarked to myself 'not again' and brought up the previous dream. All these within my dream sequel.

The only thing different was that this time round, I wasn't alone. Sadly though, in dreams, you can't really choose which perspective you wish to view it. Unlike in computer games, where you decide which point of view you wish to peer from, you aren't given this freedom of choice in dreams.

Now I'm just waiting for a part three, and it will be a trilogy.

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i stepped

I stepped
I skidded
Sorry snail
Goo
Death by shoe.

I walked
I leaped
Poor snail
Crushed
By another
Shoe, another
Feet, another
Person.

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different ballgame

You know it's a different ball game when....

first you recess-ed with females who spoke about backstabbers..

then you lunch-ed with females who talked about periods...

now you dinner-ed with females who share about their childbirth experiences...

fore four

Four of them, there are.
All attached too.

Communication comes in many ways.
One I talked to online often, and when we chatted in person, it just became natural: no ice.

Another easy-going. But she guards herself well. Our communication is only as indepth as she says it to be.

The third intrigues me. The questions she asked to break the ice. Favorite color, favorite food. Ingenious. And memorable.

The last, we had no ice. She has my heart. I wonder why.

You know the thing about friends, or maybe, newfound friends, is that the beginning often seems blurry. I can't recall the exact starting events of how I got to know them. I just do. One added me on facebook, and so I know of her. Another was my mentee. I chatted up one. And the last, I simply can't pinpoint when.

But it does not matter, because one should look to the future but live in the present, and not ponder the past.

They draw me out of my shell.
Is it a good thing or a bad thing?
Only time will tell.

Too used am I to helping.
Being helped is a little uncomfortable.
What to make of it.

They make my life rather joyful.

you and me

The boy watch the girl
Watch the boy watch the girl
Go by.

You and I.
We watch each other

This visual dance we seem to be doing
Look around (look around)
Focus on me (focus on you)
Our eyes meet (our eyes meet)
Look around (look around)
Focus on me (focus on you)
Our eyes meet (then they part)

Our weekly visual gazes.

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Cowardice isn't very nice.

I was lambasted by a customer today.

It was terrible.

Now, my usual practice is to squeeze as many customer-service-y words into my speech as possible. Like 'allow me to assist you' for example. all polite words and courteous and gracious and totally not from the heart kindof words.

But what this customer really challenged me was a verbal argument. Now honestly, I can say nothing has really fazed me. I had a customer scold me fuck you bastard about three times before. And he was yelling for ten minutes before he hung up. That I can get. But what I totally cannot comprehend is the way this customer thinks.

He had accused me, vehemently of not doing my job. And that I was using the wrong words, as I wasn't assisting him, or helping him, but rather that it was my job to fix his problem. I was his job fixer, apparently. (Another title to add to my job portfolio).

His issue was regarding a data roaming charge he had incurred while overseas. His argument was that he had called in regarding the issue. Now it was up to us to fix for him, and to adhere to his demands.

What really struck out at me is that this is supposed to be my job. And not that I was going to assist him, or to aid or to help him, and I simply should not use any selfless words to placate him and just to admit the problem is mine.

Now this is really perplexing, because the way I see it, every problem has to be solved mutually. I liken his argument to say that the job of the police is to protect the citizens and abdicate crime. So, if the city still has crime, it means they aren't doing their job.

Which strikes me as absurd.

So, after I breathe out a little, and let the strong air con at work cool me down, I take a step back and think. Now what's so different about this man? Why does he affect me so?

I come to this conclusion. He was attacking my safety perimeter. I'm proud of my confidence in my language skills. And this dude was attacking it. He was attacking the very heart of my job. Without words, I am unable to perform my job. He was encroaching into my personal verbal space.

Also, he was pushing ALL the blame to me. Seriously, the three telcos should join forces and organize classes at CCs on 'How to turn off data roaming when overseas.'

Lastly, I come to form an impression of him based on his words. He is job-oriented. He knows his limitations of his job, and will not work out of what he is paid to do. He most likely does not display initiative. He is in a managerial level position, where he is accustomed to delegating tasks and that it gets done by whomever he assigns it to. He isn't a perfectionist, though he might think he is. He likes to put others around him down. He is not afraid to speak his mind, which will be to his disadvantage most of the time.

And so, I have unlocked a new type of customer. *drum roll and a cymbal crash*

Oh, and after ranting he hung up on me. What a feelings-cheater. The worst people aren't those that scold and scream at me. It's those that scold and scream and then hang up / run away / zao lor and not allow me to assist, no sorry, to solve their problems. Cowardice isn't very nice.

i confess

I confess sometimes I get a litttle apprehensive when heading out of home into a frequented public area. There're just so many details leaping out at me, seeking to catch my attention.

Now before one thinks 'why would anyone want to catch your attention', bear in mind that most of us wear something or carry something to grasp other's attention. In fact, no matter where you go to, there's always something that catches your eye. Maybe the ad in the train, or the purple dress the girl is wearing, or the business man with a golden pen in his pocket that stands out from his white and black outfit. Or the youth with red and white shades. Or the girl beside me with her ipod and its yellow cover.

And so sometimes i have to brace myself for this onslaught of details. Colors, designs. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Most people plug in their earphones to shut out the rest of the world. So we don't hear that loud prc on the phone five seats away. Or the aunties yapping about the latest sale and their repeated 'han nor han nor'.

Now ideally, when we fill our ears with something that doesn't match what we see, our sight gets maximized to notice details. Of course, sometimes we get caught in our own thoughts.

But for me, my vision sortof gets sharpened. Every detail seem to scream at me.

Like the dude opposite me in black shades and green nike shirt with white nike shoes. He wear a crumpler bag. But this is alright, because there're fixed variables in this train carriage. To an extent, this is a controlled environment, because entry and exit is only by the train doors. There's a limit on the influx and outflow of passengers.

However, when i walk out of Bugis mrt station, the real trouble is. I'm not claustrophobic. In fact, when I was young and burrow into some corner to hide and seek relief. Either I watched too many shows of ostrichs and their head in the ground, or I relished death. But that's a topic for another time.

Bugis station is very packed. People coming in, people going out. And sometimes it really hits me. When I walk out, all the detail. Not just clothes or colors or accessories, but mannerisms and expressions. The look on their faces, the emotions in their eyes, their speech and movement patterns, the swing of their hands, the positions they stand.

It can be overwhelming at times.
This is my confession. Overwhelmed by sight.

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call centre of the future

Imagine you have a problem with your phone bill. (Most singaporeans wouldn't find that hard to imagine.) Or you have a technical problem with your phone or cable or internet.

So, like any other normal being, you call in and send a plea for help. You have a deadline to meet and need to go online to submit the assignment. Or you have an important conference call coming soon. Or you just can't understand the bill.

But you have no clue what the person on the other end is speaking. What wire? What port? Which part of the bill? I don't have that page.

Sometimes it seems so frustrating and you want to see the same thing that the other person is looking at. Perhaps, in the near future you might.

After all, mobile operators offer television and/or internet services, isn't it about time they came out with innovative after-sales service as well?

You have a dispute about the bill. You call in using skype on your office computer. A window opens and a live video conference is done via your built-in webcam. You see a man dressed neatly in a long sleeve shirt and pants. Or a hoodie, shirt and jeans. Doesn't really care as long as he gets the job done right? And he does.
He stands in a small room with a pedestal in front of him, and a touchscreen. You see the bill appear magnified on a screen behind him, and now you can see which part of the bill he is referring to.

If it's a technical problem, you can see which part of the modem he is referring to. Or which port you are supposed to plug in your cable.

Now, wouldn't that be something. A bit csi. A bit high tech. A bit customer service. A bit not cost effective. Or is it? Would this increase or decrease overheads?

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soaring

Leap up turn and split
Spin swivel then Jump a bit
Feel the thumpings of my feet.

Why do I feel so.
This hunger. This anguish.
This relief of malice.
Ice cubes have a heart.
It melts.

I have a heart.
It burns for you.

The more I know you,
The more I lose myself.
Into oblivion.
Into esctasy.
Soaring over the wilderness.
Into molten lava.

Beat in grief.
Roar in depression.
Stamp with disapproval.
Whack with disbelief.
But i still believe.

To touch and not to hold.
To hold and not to let go.
To let go and not to live.
To live and not to suffer.
To suffer and not to die.
To die and not to relish.
To relish and not to miss.
To miss and not to give.
To give and not to touch.

Soaring.
In my own world.
Beats beats.

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bus ride home

I'm on the way home on bus 81 as I'm writing this.

Beside me is an upper sec male student and behind him his female friend. I have no clue why they do not want to sit side by side to talk.

So I eavesdrop un-purposefully. After all, I can't Not listen when the dude's mouth faces my ear when he turns to speak to her.

Apparently they have two mutual friends named Marcus and Chelsea. Marcus like Chelsea. Marcus is vulgar. Chelsea suspects but Marcus has not plucked up his courage to tell her yet. So they are discussing how to persuade him to tell her.

The usual scoo-qiu-ren (puppy) love story. But this isn't what impacts me.

What strikes me is that her voice is very irritating. I have no idea if this is scientifically possible but i believe age comes with tone. And from the way her voice keeps zao sia-ing and her various pitches, she either has a very wide vocal range, or she has yet to find her voice.

I believe each of us have our own voice. And we need to find it. The right pitch, and depth, that resonates from the heart.

After all, how do you trust or believe or radiate confidence if you don't even know your own voice? Take the old man in front of me. His head is short and white. He wears a faded short sleeve shirt. His voice stems of confidence. I have no clue what he is saying, cause his cheena a bit chim, but I know that he is confident and speaks forcefully, the weight pressing every word down. He is frustrated about the education system and is identifying every flaw. After identifying, he proceeds to elaborate and provides examples. He would probably score very well for argumentative essays.

Work helps me hone my listening skills; both in tolerance levels as well as in identifying confidence/s.

Some people stammer when they speak. Others shout. Some whisper. Some rant on and on and on. But they fail to realize it is not the speed or volume that warrants attention. It is the delivery. (And I don't mean caesarean or natural).

How you speak what you speak for the reason you are speaking. I could shout but not believe every word I say and you will know it and take me lightly. This is why sometimes I take vocal threats lightly. Not that the dude on the other end is raving mad, or that he isn't worthy enough to be taken seriously, but he's actually just breathing air into the phone. If he said his demands nicely, I would actually take him seriously.

A quick example is this. Think of all the television dramas involving terrorists or hijackers or kidnappers or bank hold-em-uppers (I doubt there's such a word). You know the part where they lists their demands over their phones? They don't shout or scream it through. They say it in slow, controlled tones. And they get taken seriously, don't they.

We always think that volume equals to action. But if this were true, we would all have gone deaf from listening to each other shout. And doctors will never give people with hoarse throats medicine cause they wouldn't be taken seriously.

So the pitch is important as the delivery as well.
Why don't you take a listen and reflect upon what you hear? Just unplug your earphones. And listen. Not the words. (Though that is important too) but the tone. The pitch. The delivery.

For these are non-verbal communicators delivered verbally. Its importance is more than words.

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I feel like reposting some of my older posts, just for the kick of it.

Wife: 'What are you doing?'
Husband: Nothing.
Wife: 'Nothing...? You've been reading our marriage certificate for an hour.'
Husband: 'I was looking for the expiry date.'

Wife: 'Do you want dinner?'
Husband: 'Sure! What are my choices?'
Wife: 'Yes or no.'

Wife: 'You always carry my photo in your wallet. Why?'
Hubby: 'When there is a problem, no matter how great, I look at your picture and the problem disappears.'
Wife: 'You see how miraculous and powerful I am for you?'
Hubby: 'Yes! I see your picture and ask myself what other problem can
there be greater than this one?'

Stress Reliever Girl: 'When we get married, I want to share all your
worries, troubles and lighten your burden.'
Boy: 'It's very kind of you, darling, but I don't have any worries or
troubles.'
Girl: 'Well that's because we aren't married yet.'

Son: 'Mum, when I was on the bus with Dad this morning, he told me to
give up my seat to a lady.'
Mom: 'Well, you have done the right thing.'
Son: 'But mum, I was sitting on daddy's lap.'

A newly married man asked his wife, 'Would you have married me if my
father hadn't left me a fortune?'
'Honey,' the woman replied sweetly, 'I'd have married you, NO MATTER WHO
LEFT YOU A FORTUNE!'

Girl to her boyfriend: One kiss and I'll be yours forever The guy replies: 'Thanks for the early warning.'

A wife asked her husband: 'What do you like most in me, my pretty face or my sexy body?'
He looked at her from head to toe and replied: 'I like your sense of humour!'

Link

Names are very very important, most parents would agree. And so they spend hours and hours scouring over encyclopedias and google search results for good baby names. But sometimes no matter how good they are, they can be rather bad when translated in another language. Enjoy what I found online.

Anne Chang
(Mandarin)-Dirty

Anne Chin
(Mandarin) - Keep quiet

Carl Cheng
(Hokkien) - Buttock

Monica Cheng
Hokkien) - Touching your buttocks

Lucy Leow
(Hokkien) - You are dead

Jane Tan
(Mandarin) - Frying eggs

Henry Mah
(Mandarin) - Hate your mum

Paul Chan
(Mandarin) - Bankrupt

Nelson Tan
(Mandarin) - Bird laying eggs

Leslie Tong
(Mandarin) - Rubbish bin

Danny See
(Hokkien) - Squeeze you to death

Pete Tsai
(Hokkien) - Nose droppings

Macy Koh
(Cantonese) - Never die before

Kenny Nair
(Hokkien)- [Need I explain?]

Link