we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Monday, August 29, 2005
6:37 PM
Word of One
a generation of experience against the word of one. mahjong has taught me so much, and drawn the likeness of once bitterness upon a light of friendship.
alas it'll teach me no more.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, August 28, 2005
9:11 AM
Nurse Lai
it wasn't about what to do or where to go. wasn't about mahjong or basketball, or just about going out with this friend and that. it wasn't even about that usual bit of jealousy.
yet today i scolded a girl like i never did before
and i finally understood why my mum used to scold me with all her might.
the voices in my head-
Friday, August 26, 2005
5:55 AM
On DO duties
i had a nightmare last night. okay, what an unschooled redundancy. as if nightmares could happen in the day. oh but of course, they do occur once in a blue baboon, but i guess it would have been termed daymares. sounds like some great chain of supermarket in the downunder. oh wait, thats not daymares. thats dymores! and speaking of downunder, it sounds as if australia were the little cute love funnel of the world, the downunder of the earth, squashed between two fat legs of the east and west, snug in the middle of a blue pan panties pacific. why pan i never understood. its nothing like that miserable pan pizza hut, so small and crusty and peppered with sour pineapples. its nothing like that boy who never grew up, that mr pan peter more affectionately known as peter pan. ah pan peter i must admit, sounds a tad bit like shitbull or ningkeway-a. but its in the army that we address cute little green personnel by their surname before their names, and mr pan peter faithfully dolls himself up as a cute little green personnel.
i'm going crazy. serving duty officer in the wee hours of a saturday morning rocks the nerves. i had better call up pan peter for help.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
9:21 PM
Building Blocks
piece it up wherever you like. slot it on your empty slots. wrench it out when you're just too packed.
i feel like a lego.
maybe its true, all good things must come to an end.
-- introducing the new lego systems edition `06
the voices in my head-
Monday, August 22, 2005
1:02 AM
On Class Gatherings
i never knew looking at the same old folly things again and again and again and again and again could still make me convulse in the most violent cachinnation. i miss the old days. i love my old class.
---
On Lollipops
i met a very angry kid this early morning. a hand dangled a most pretty lollipop and he snapped at it, but the hand was quicker than that darting little tongue, and he threw up the most fiery temper i have ever witnessed coming from a boy.
instincts shouldn't be tampered with.
the voices in my head-
Friday, August 19, 2005
6:26 AM
Creation
i think i have uncovered the reason why guys are to open the doors for ladies. why guys are to napkin their dates before taking their seats. why the guys are to get flowers for their girls.
drumroll please.
and thats because! guys are to sperms and girls are to eggs.
i had asked seven complaining girls, fat thin tall short pretty prettier prettiest, if they see themselves as lucky little things outtof a few million to have been swimming up a uterus one fine day, only to find an idle egg sitting there, conveniently fertilising it, emerging as one.
i had for an answer four head shakes, two particularly violent. a contorted face. a face of disappearing eyebrows. and a middle finger.
but of course, it is only natural for the guys to feel as overgrown sperms, who had ages ago elbowed away a few million fellow comrades, kicked around and squirmed through a vast sea of milky whites, to travel miles upon miles up a musky tunnel, eventually finding a sitting egg awaiting fertilisation.
it has from the start, been quite apparent, that each of us had been fertilised from the sperm and egg. girl or guy, we had made that trecherous journey upstream, not unlike a little pink salmon.
yet we guys are destined to wait upon the ladies?!
guys are to sperms. and girls are to eggs. static idleee eggs.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, August 13, 2005
1:22 AM
lived. live. will live.
these days things have been a blur. each present moment seems like a flash of the past, and i feel as though i'm walking each day like i've walked it before, and such confidence my legs embrace cos i know i've been there done that, a hundred times over.
and its dangerous, cos i haven't.
i'm a wai and a kit now, two separate things as the ripples of time come crashing by. my mind wanders while my body skims from this place to that. my gaze looks not at things, but a careless looking-through of people, creatures, events. a cold glassy crystal has replaced a certain childish flame that snakes within the windows to my soul, and now i listen and not hear, speak and not converse.
my girl asked me once too many why i seem to have a pair of clamped lip, or a set of clenched teeth if that would deem more glamorous. and i tell her i was thinking. wondering. pondering.
but weird as a purple elephant might get, i know not what i think of. now there, i'm not lying (for on the night of a particular 12th i had promised not to lie in this relationship no matter how much it might hurt), i was indeed deep in thought, just maybe i couldn't gather them about in a heap and stir them like Dumbledore does in a pensieve.
so its only on rare solitary moments that i can recollect precious moments of thought. thinking of the expectations people impose upon me, the path i adamantly take upon, the exponential risk of failure, the expectant faces of disappointment, perhaps sometimes a little daydream of success, before crashing back upon reality as the lady over my head tells me not to approach too near the yellow line.
yes i know now. i dream of the future too much these days.
and perhaps, that is why the present feels like the past so unflinchingly. because it has previously taken a marathon long run in my mind a few days back.
the voices in my head-
Monday, August 08, 2005
10:23 AM
On Self-conversations
the world needs a balance.
be nice. not too nice.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, August 06, 2005
3:48 AM
Rag
the most hilarious thing, could have happened. dressed in a plain white tee, all set to change to my jersey for a basketball tournament, i could not have stood out more distinctly from the rest of the crowd, a splash of blue for kent ridge, streaks of green for raffles, and splats of orange here and there for this hall and that.
and so i guess, i must have looked mature enough. or maybe it was due to the fact that i managed to sneak past those vigilant students trying to barricade the VIP stands and land myself smack amidst ancient classes of previous batches.
it was amidst a high screeching cheer from the engineering faculty when the cute little lady on my right warmed her engines..
"hi, its been a long time. weren't you the guy back in those years who drove that pickup around the campus?" the lady gestured with a rude little hand to the man in a blue-green tie on my left, contrasting her quite formidable look. probably in her late thirties, i reckon. very late thirties i guess, considering she looked fifty.
"ah. yes yes. from the class of 83 i am. you were my senior ain't you." the well dressed gentleman replied. in a strange high voice, and he somewhat gave me the impression that he hadn't recognise her. perhaps he thought it was just manners sufficiently apt to entertain a rude little left hand and a poor old lady.
"mmm," a sickening moan i could have sworn "nice of them to reserve seats in the VIP stand for alumni like us who have graduated so many years back. i would bet everyone here would have suffered a pang of nostalgia after so many years apart from this campus." and with that, her eyes arched in a most astonishing sort of way with a half pout slightly developed from an abnormally hunched lower lip.
and definitely, i could see the poor gentleman on my left had no intention on further entertaining his guest. and so very wisely he tried to turn her on me, "and so, you look young. must have graduated just a few years back haven't you?"
"yes indeed, from the class of 06."
the voices in my head-
Thursday, August 04, 2005
6:22 AM
Little Wandering Thoughts
i read the papers today, and the blatant headlines on the Home Page streaked one of the most nonsensical phrases i could have imagined. I want to ask for justice for Sindee. hmm.
its strange why people love to consummate revenge, to kill for the killed.
i had always believed, only by letting go would one be blessed with a rare emotion of relief, or perhaps enlightenment. a willing acceptance that reinstates a form of closure. revenge only seeks to suppress the fury, the rage, the sadness, the grief, and in that suppression emerges a collective memory so deeply imbued in one's heart that it forfeits any chance of effacement.
but of course, what would a young boy like me know anything about revenge?
and. what would a young child know anything about justice?
--
it is not death we fear. it is the unknown we fear when we look upon it, so pray tell, what bit of unknown would we uncover, and we could proudly gasp in a moment of astonishment that humans have edged that little bit towards embracing the underworld? what little bit of fear would we drive out by seeking justice?
and after all, justice is a mere word coined by man, a bombastic one at that, to mean the laws of man. made by man of course. i prefer commandments. a greater bombaster coined by man, but at least to mean the laws of God.
and this, there ain't legislations or cabinets or ministers to remake the laws each year, just commandments to last for eternity. through time and space.
and perhaps. it is with these commandments that justice should be delivered. it is with these commandments that the guilty would be punished. it is with these commandments that the innocent would walk away unscathed. it is with these commandments that the grievers would move on. and it is with these commandments that the victims would seek justice.
whoever said we needed to witness justice.
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
Get awesome blog templates like this one from BlogSkins.com