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?

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

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?

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

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! :)

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2

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.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2

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.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.2

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?

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.0