we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Friday, February 28, 2003
8:45 AM
A Walk In The Jungle
I still remember, the first day
white top, khaki tights, white underwear, four buttons to top it off.
i trekked through the start of the route
all around me were lotus, white and all.
some spotted with a vivid blue of aloevera, some just plain white, like snow flecks.
Just a year back, the exact time. 2pm it was,
when i backtracked to square one, mind and soul all set to undertake the new route unveiled
the buttons had to go, the tights had to split, but i wasn't going to join the flurry of white lotus.
i was lost, lost in the jungle, and stumbled upon were the buttress roots of a humongous bomboe
i tripped, i fell. i picked myself up. i survived.
sometimes, we have no idea where such major crossroads might lead our lives to. i had no idea i'd be in rjc when i psychoed myself to be a hwachongian since sec 3. but lo and behold, i spent great fun discovering myself amongst rafflesians during the 1st 3 months, only to get all topsyturvy in the Os to be hurled back to hwachong.
i had no inkling how i'd fare among the 69ers when bad first impressions usually linger, nor did i realise the basketball courts would prove to be such a great haven of recreation and peers. i had no idea how i had persisted, sustained and held on with her. i had never seen myself taking a mere 3 subs, nor entertaining a thought about the transfer to ajc.
i hadn't, i haven't, and i'd hardly ever know what tomorrow brings. fret not though, people take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost. cheers.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, February 25, 2003
6:27 AM
Croxx Country
I was torn between running my utmost best and slacking with the juniors, but an incessant prodding at the back of my life pumped adrenaline into me since my awakening after the maths period. It said "Its the last cross country of your life. Your life. Entire life." So ran i did.
I never knew running could be so grossly exhausting. Fearing a chokeup of serious slackers, i adopted the singaporean maxim and raced to be amongst the top few, leading the pack. Huanghui and Joshua were both by my side, and it was amazing how we managed to keep up that horribly inhuman speed for the first third of the jungle trek. With a burst of speed though, i streaked across the uphill slopes, emerging a lead runner for the first time of my life. My excitement was shortlived though, when yuhao slowly but steadily cut me across, before Huanghui's pat on the back struck me and Joshua's beaming face caught up.
And neither did i ever know that there existed mirages on lornie road. The slopes do play with emotions, as they spur great speed from my legs as i approach the crest, before diminishing it into a pace of a drunken snail when i realised more slopes lie veiled before the previous. It was sickening.
But all in all, amidst the initial blockouts, slippery slips, disappearing hills, faint finales and a meek 17th position in the mass run, my leg aches terribly with a seemingly unending fatigue but my heart glows to realise yet another event has been imbued deep down the memories of life.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, February 23, 2003
6:58 AM
Dying Fish
When already established fish start dying for no apparent reason you should first check for the following:
Test your water for pH and Ammonia.
Observe your fish closely for signs of a fungus or tiny white spots that look like salt.
Is your water temperature correct for the type of fish you are housing?
Watch your fish, especially at feeding time, for an hour or so. Do you perhaps have a bully fish in there that is perhaps chasing or harassing the other fish?
If all of these things checkout, your pH and Ammonia levels are fine, there are no visible signs of illness, the water temperature is correct and you have no bully fish then here are a couple of other things to consider.
There ain't a bully fish, there were no new fishes in the tank.
Nope, i did not add in water, nor salt, nor ammonia, nor fern, nor mineral, nor soap, nor poison. not even a plankton for pete's sake.
I did watch my fish, but hardly at feed times. She hardly eats, she's never hungry.
I watched my fish closely for spots, for fungi, but nope. She's as perfect as ever, as angelic as before.
And then i scratch my head, eyebrows arched so high they nearly disappeared into my forehead.
What on earth is wrong with this fish?
perhaps its just me.
perhaps its just my murky mind fooling my naive heart.
perhaps the fish is indeed the same, congruent, identical.. but its just me.
And with that, i took a giant leap and a great plunge, and attempted to drown myself with the fish in the swirling depths of the water. but the fish tank crashed into a gazillion bits of glass and splints, each working its way into my heart.
the voices in my head-
Friday, February 21, 2003
9:28 AM
Little Oxymorons
"they weren't smiles but masks
that wasn't soccer but escapism
i wasn't late but delayed
those ain't drool but tears."
i see no reason. i saw no reason. i can forsee none either.
i have exhausted each ounce of energy, and what yet remains is a little capsule which enable meself to end it well, i have no two capsules to dig and salvage
forgive me, i still do, trust me. i do. but i shan't, can't and won't lie to you nor myself any longer.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, February 20, 2003
7:00 AM
Zhi Shao Zou De Bi Ni Zao
"i was lost in her song, sleeplike, but conscious. i felt a lightness depart from me, a wisp of vapour escaping through her words. the lyrics and verses themselves swirled around me, and i absorbed them without understanding them. Listening without hearing, if you will. lighter and lighter I felt, as her words coiled around me, in a rapid frenzy of ecstasy and epiphany.
i became aware, and, with a whisper, she sang my skin from me."
i had no idea what this song meant. now, i still only have half the idea. but somehow, this song has struck me really deep. the tune's flawless, the lyrics are contrarily gross. candy lo's a bitch, but there are flashes of times when i jerked towards my phone to end it all, before a resolve at the back of my head prodded me to rationalise my acts. slowly, gradually, my heart morphs, my mind weakens. thats the power of a song. thats the power of love.
the voices in my head-
Monday, February 17, 2003
6:47 AM
Whee. Yeah. Nimkamput.
Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go. Balls cause happiness whenever and wherever they go. Neh, no pun intended.
Yeahy. I'm so happy. We got into talentimey finals. Whee. Thanks thanks for the upagazillion congraty greetings. Thanks thanks you, you, you, you, you and you for trusting my choreographing. Thanks thanks you, you, you and you for graciously being our backstage crew. Wheey.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, February 16, 2003
3:09 AM
Conflicts
No doubt there are other important things in life besides conflict, but there are not many other things so inevitably interesting. The very saints interest us most when we think of them as enganged in a conflict with the devil. Love sparks an undying interest because we're always at conflict with love.
I'm in conflict.
Yes you, you needn't turn your head. I'm speaking to you. I understand not why you did that to me, why you succumbed to temptations, why you misplaced all priorities, why you're so busy. all the time.
Pardon me, its just one of those times when my past catches up with my present, causing me to lapse into a double identity. sorry.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, February 15, 2003
8:37 AM
The Little Prince(cess)
i have an aunt, she's nearing sixty perhaps? there is much animosity between all my relatives and her, but she still remains a bubbly figure. a fat figure from taiwan, married to my eldest uncle for more than twenty years, her identity is much muddled but it was due to her obsessive toying with the stocks that spiralled her family to bankruptcy. since then, she has been rummaging garbage piles for discarded furniture, ornaments, and stockpiling them in her puny two-room. indeed, a little yo-yo up in her nuts and bolts.
We had a reunion today, and all of us had to voyage a journey across singapore to get to my other aunt's place for the dinner. my family, staying pretty close to her, offered a ride. she stood beneath the shimmering drizzle with a ragged brolly as she awaited our arrival. Elated upon our prompt punctuality, she squeezed upon us and my sister squealed irritably as the back of the car couldn't manage four humans, one of which particularly broad.
Indifferent to the convulsive uproar, she rambled on and on the instant her astronomical butt came into contact with the leather seat.
My dad asked her about the state of her house, and she admitted it was still as messy as ever. But amidst the interrogation, she complained of her husband hurling away her shoes, some of them hadn't even been worn for 10 days. My mum asked where she'd purchased them from, and she simply said they belonged to others, before clambering on the fact that the shoes were perfectly wearable, apart from the worn out sole and holes at the front.
She then spoke of her nightly visits to the temple, while my mum retorted, saying time should be spent sleeping and getting a meaningful job in the day. Silenced, the topic soon turned to the recession and jobs, and my aunt was asked why she declined the toilet cleaning job. She blurted that it was coz cleaning toilets wasn't fit for her, she couldn't bring herself up to do it. She felt that toilet cleaning was one of the most remarkable jobs, morphing offal into polished plastic.
I turned to her at that instant, and i saw, amidst the wrinkles and sullen face, a straight face. i know somehow when people lie, and gorked people don't lie. her naiveness complemented a level of stupidity which unveils an innocence of a child. i can't say why, or how, but all through the car ride, she had made more sense than my parents.
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
7:36 AM
On Bondage
Dreams are like a pensive, spookily real yet untouchable. They bring out the utter desires from the depths of our hearts, we can either dwell in such intangible orbit, while time passes us by, or we could snap out of it, ratifying thunderous reality to hit upon us.
I had a dream, and it pricked my utmost doubt, my deepest want. I succumbed to the 4th dimension, face-eagled, squirming on my bed . As i furiously recollected, the dream stubbornly leaked out of my mind like water in cupped hands. Oh yes, i do remember now, it was about this kid. A kid named Y.
Y was rebellious by nature, with grins and laughters frequently flashing across his tanned face. On this particular evening, he was settled on the rattan rocking chair by the balcony. Suddenly, he felt two hands brush across his cheek. They carressed the sideburns, and he felt the wet tip of a tongue circle its way to his earlobe. He yelped, and he tried to shake it off, but the meek hands had an unwonted power to weaken and adulterate. Y was consummately beneath the reins of this mysterious creature. Once or twice though, he managed to spin around in total conviction, only to catch a glimpse of that fair skin and catlike eyes, before her divine fingers soothed his curiosity, crumbling him upon the rattan chair.
But the bondage was not almighty nor eternal, for Y had a strong will which certainly does not complement his surface image. Nearly a year has that mysterious creature harped upon him, indeed many a crumbling had occured, but the total disintegration of his soul had not taken place. Once in a blue baboon, as the flowing fingers roll over Y's shoulders on a typical humid afternoon, he would spot his sparkling angel beneath the balcony eaves. At that instant, the bondage would weaken, and Y would struggle to get upon his feet. But his angel hardly stays for long, she fleets like time, unstoppable, unpredictable. He knows not when would be the next time she would come, he knows not how she fares in white heaven.
And with that, Y falters once again. Crumbled beneath the rattan chair. Placid kneadings upon his exhausted body resume once again.
the voices in my head-
Friday, February 07, 2003
9:00 AM
aWak3n|nG, served medium-raw
i think i need sleep.
a long dreamless noiseless sleep, like an amoeba beneath the lurking lochness, or a flea hibernating in a pig's ass.
i just realised i was so tenderly weak, in the mental aspect. i had to muster all my wits and daring to prod myself awake yesterday night till 2am, just to complete one math tutorial. alas, the tutorial much completed, but the following day just disintegrated into phases of wakes and snores. everybody has such erratic schedules imbued in their body systems already, but me just rebukes the attempt of burning the midnight oil. i am. so weak. mentally.
i've got this thumpthumpthump in my head now, while my eyes just seem to see everything in sixes and nines. beneath the glaring screen, today just seemed to rewind and replay before my eyes. i saw myself dozing off beneath McGregor's hairy nose while he rambles on and on, i saw myself getting dragged to play LAN when i seriously didn't want to, i saw myself lashing elbows and erected third fingers during basketball, i saw myself flirting from flower to flower when cupid had already arrowed me. yet, a smile remains on my face, the necessary spirit of aWak3n|nG thrives on.
and terrible as sok sounds it, is this truly happiness, or feigned ecstasy? knowledge of the self is the mother of all knowledge. so it is incumbent on me to know my self, to know it completely, to know its minutiae, its characteristics, its subtleties, and its very atoms.
who am i? is this all just a Truman's Show, am i rather an escapist than an optimist?
i think i need sleep. a good night's sleep.
the voices in my head-
Monday, February 03, 2003
7:12 AM
Chinese New Year, Night Two
Les Brown once said "Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars". Screw Les Brown. I'd told myself repeatedly that i should finish differential equations, NID and electric fields. Its a high ambition, no doubt, and i was plausibly going to screw my goal anyway, but instead of landing among the stars, i'd dived headon into a raging sun and roasted every single leg hair of mine.
Nevertheless, the sun diving stunt earned me several hundred a buck. Besides that though, night two of chinese new year was an arresting event. The basketballers stayed over at my place, with yuhao and jingfeng camping by my computer (no, not studying biology), but playing warcraft till their eyes outgrew their sockets. The rest of us engaged in a neck to neck ban-luck, which resulted in 5 losers and 2 winners, one of whom chalked up a retrieval of 2 buck, while the other reaped all. -gRinz-
The money aside, it was interesting observing the behaviours of 7 individuals as the clock ticked through the wee hours. One was rapping his head off with the beat of Lose Yourself by eminem, another was busy scanning jeff's phone for sex and scandals. Our dear captain was humping the virgin ass of poor mike, while Alan's nipples were unspared from a gazillion corkscrews. Hilarious events followed one after another, and only till the clock struck five did our raging hormones finally ceased churning out an inferno.
The chime of the cuckoo clock reverberated through my room, and as the 5th chirp escaped the beak, the first rays of dawn broke out of the horizon's grasp. Indeed, those who bring sunshine to the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves.
Cheers, happy new year to all!
the voices in my head-
Saturday, February 01, 2003
6:56 AM
Chinese New Year, Day One
-takes a deep breathe-
ihavebeengoingplacestoplacesvisitingrelativesidon'treallyknowandalldaylonganaggingthoughtatthebackofmy...
-exhalesandinhalesinthesameinstant-
...headtellingmetodomynationalincomedeterminationelectricfieldanddifferentialequationsargh!
-exhales-
debilitated.
the voices in my head-
i love my girl. a love so beautiful, symmetrical, tangible
God loves me. a love so great, unconditional, real.
my life in a nutshell. working towards loves of sorts. beautiful, symmetrical, tangible, great, unconditional and real.
a page, deliberately left blank.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
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