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  • Feb. 21st, 2011 at 12:24 AM
Why are you hiding behind the wall?  Come out and speak and defend yourself.

If I were you, Amir, I'd save my kite runner friend, I'll box Assef with all the force I could give with a five year old fist and a five year old boot and save my friend from twenty years of one person misery. 

How can misery love company when only you know your misery?  You can relate experiences to friends you can tell them stories you can express your sadness in your eyes but you cannot force them to feel the utmost intensity of the emotion which you do.

It's so much easier to hide, it's also much easier to nurse regret over cold earl grey and broken toes.  It is also better to have no expectations of anyone or anything, then everyday you are happy because any little thing is one step beyond your lowest expectations.

A mountain's muse

  • May. 5th, 2010 at 8:27 PM
aye, you know you've gone too long when you can't recognise the main profile page of your digital diary any longer.

I remember, a train ride with strangers and politely asking stragglers to give up their seats because they weren't supposed to sit there  but oh my goodness, how can you stand for NINE hours on a stiff train at night?!  Already I am seated and yet felt like a bruised papaya after the journeys there and back.  I remember having to go to a police station so that I can identify myself to the police that I am not a terrorist threat so that I don't have to sleep on the beaches of Qingdao in the freezing sea breeze.  I remember climbing to the top of a very tiring mountain, and marveling at a view I have never seen before in all my living years and that very sight makes me thankful that I am alive, which, as the years go by are moments that will fade in few and far between long lengths of morbidity... (stop thinking so much)  Oh the huge yawning cliffs and soft peach flowers and cherubic cherry blossoms growing out of the menacing chunks of rock.  There amongst the tall and mighty trees, mountains and flowers, I can't help but feel the presence of my Mighty Creator.    Which is linked to a memory I have recently formed from a conversation with a vegan chinese restaurant owner.  (The atheist journalist asked Einstein, why do you believe in God?  Einstein looked at him shrewdly and asked, Boy, how do you think this got here, the cup on the table.  "Why you put it there of course," the journalist replied haughtily.  Einstein said that Indeed, the cup did not grow out of the table, did not appear there by itself but its existence was willed into being because someone decided to manufacture a cup out of ceramic and some ambitious physics professor wannabe bought it for me.  Einstein asked again, how did the cup get here now, and he moved the cup to his right.  "You just moved it to your right," said the journalist, thinking that he might have gotten the wrong Einstein, he wanted very much to speak to the real one...  "Do you believe that I put it there?"  asked Einstein sternly.  "Yes," the journalist said, and stared at him queerly.  "Well, lad, if you believe that the cup there had to be placed by someone, why do you not believe that the universe was created and placed here purposefully by a higher being?)

Back to the view, I would like to burn the picture in my skull (because I have no camera)  and I stood there trying to drink in every detail to lock it into a memory and let it play in my mind's eye as some desk top wallpaper for every night that I am here.  As I look at the mountains and try to expand to a wideangle view of my human eye I can feel my brain contemplating forgetting this sight already and that with the bell tolls for time, they will ding dong the majesty of the view into mundane memory.  That is if my own head manages to preserve the authenticity of the memory.

I remember kindness, I remember warm weather, I remember an inner gorge of silence no sound can pierce through.  A very deep, dark pit into which I free fall.
I forget that I remember and remember what I want; willed into forgetting.


  • Jan. 13th, 2010 at 6:19 PM

Sometimes when I examine the contents of my brain, I find it as puzzling or hard to decipher as one of those obscure old english poems that literature students have to dissect for their course. It's being confronted with the millions of images and imagery and vague nonsensical items that doesn't seem to make much sense when published in a linear form one after the other.

This morning wasn't much different.

My love
Is all bark and no bite
My love
Is hard to hug without getting
These thin scratchy stripes
My love
Lives in many and many
Reside in Him
My love
Knows His roots which grow deep
And towers far ahead above me
My love
Knows no age and will live
and love me far longer after
I am dead.

space expanding

  • Aug. 11th, 2009 at 11:10 PM
 If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make the change.



The Hours.


I think, I understand the end of things.  All things have an end, all experiences have units of time attached to them.  Of course some units are more numerous than others which merely means some experiences last longer than others, hopefully those are pleasant incidences rather than nervous ones.


I trod through all that is happening like they are all the same because all things end, achievements, glory, longing, disappointment, silences, chatter, desires.  It does not mean that I go through motions cyborgotically only now since I know that all this does not last, that I can live detachedly from these feelings.  I enjoy, I suffer, I feel anger, I feel loneliness, I feel togetherness, I feel belonging, I feel apartness all in the spaces of those units allocated.  For those units alone I feel.  For the rest of the day, it is but a neutral state of non-being, of merely existing.  But for those moments of intensity, the in between exist as straight lines disappearing ad infinitum.  These emotions are the spots of the morse code beeping life without enjoined dashes.  Every moment containing emotion, every day de-constructed to consider what is time?  Time of arbitrary smaller amounts called seconds to make minutes making hours, the history of time recorded in sunbeams across the day where there were no hours but merely times where there is light and times where there is absence of light.  Where does light stop in the vast expanse of the darkness of space?


‘The fact that we need to shit doesn’t mean we do not eat’ –Chairman Mao


Trying to read the mandarin section of the papers today took up a good half hour per article.  So much for attempting to apply for an exchange programme to PRC so that I’ll be doing solid work on my mother tongue come Jan 1 2010.  There’s some practice to be made in Dec in Taipei with the family.


The earlier quote is supposed to imbue meaning into daily activities.  The pointlessness of certain actions does not render them completely redundant.  So long in the process it allows you to feel something, anger, jealousy, delight, peace, hunger and relief.


the sweep of time

  • Jun. 3rd, 2009 at 11:20 AM
There is this huge number of people that I ride the train to work with, to lunches, to meet ups.  There are many of them who appear empty, vacant, staring into space, killing time with their playstation portables, with their cell phones and newspapers.  They are the majority of people who walk the earth like others before them, dispensable drones that are timeless in themselves, they breed and bleed, they are one and they are many.  And they are all so same, all so sane.

I think of them and want to flee, flee from this predictable list of motions, of ordinary trappings, of going to work and going home, of needing to work because we work for food, we work for life, we work for our relationships, we later work for our children and work toward retirement and work toward the end.  Flee?  No matter where you run, you end up running into yourself.  -axelrod

I look at them and wonder if they know about their enormous potential if they have ever contemplated life beyond the certain mundane realities, about their journeys into their respective vocations.  Its not about forcing them to fight for global causes for fame and fortune.  It is about making sure we know purpose and we know what motivates us.  We are small and we live within our small worlds and it is in ours that we can create the most impact.

Writer's Block: Musical Affliction

  • Apr. 27th, 2009 at 9:57 PM
I just happened to write an entry that coincided with the Writer's Block of the Day

Post Season 2 of Dr. Gregory House

I appreciate House’s wit but his steely dismissal of people he treats… I can’t.  He’s flawed, who all our doppelgangers can identify with.   He’s the one you would expect spouting
repressed edits of: We are the people of the antiseptic generation of clean floors and mega butt wipes.  We have sanitation and clean toilet paper.  We will go to the theatres and go home to bathe.  We resign to jobs because we need to feed.  We give up our mental freedom for creating new lives and to be pre-occupied with the lives we have created.

But its Wilson that’s my favourite character in this show, his silvery tongue, his bright eyed concern, ability to cook, his penchant for needy people, his undying tolerance, especially with a buddy like House by his side.  (Stethoscope swinging, meal gauging, insufferable House)

I’m measuring every item I buy based on the amount of time I have to sacrifice based on temp assignments’ current wage rates.  Dinner at Menotti’s for 21 dollars?  (thinks three hours of data entry)  Exquisite hat from Espirit?  $17.90 (2h 32 minutes of false cheery accents)  It does put a curb on unnecessary expenditure, which I’m prone to, post-examination trauma.  A new headband, a fresh supply of contact lenses (should scratch this, I hate the stuff.  I just wear this to act pretty.  Oh pathetic vanity), a new hat (it’s a get-every-colour-you-can-vibe) oh and a reasonably expensive DSLR camera.  (Nikon is not better than Canon, nor is Canon better than Nikon) 

Varsity holidays are good avenues for doing soul-searching and refinements to personality quirks, the irresistible urge to recycle every scrap of paper I come across.  I mean literally—beyond the used notes and obvious things to be recycled, I’m talking about the clean cardboard boxes containing the package of chocolate chips, the koko krunch cereal boxes, the empty tissue boxes, toilet roll cores, the foolscap’s backing, the post-it notes of done to-dos…  fill up my huge bag--  this is why my bags are huge (they’re full of junk, they hide the junk)  Its an irony, considering how I’m pro-earth but Earth will get through, beyond its hot, flat and crowded era it is now undergoing. 

Why do I do this then?  Because I am only an average, ordinary, everyday superhero.  That's my earworm

My obsessive recycling, in reality, has nothing to do with the environment but with profound guilt over the number of trees I've killed with my sinusitis affliction.  (Our family goes through boxes of tissues in weeks.. because, there's a box in every single room.)

What the next 60 years will be like

  • Apr. 5th, 2009 at 1:54 AM
Communication Research VS Journalism

What a MAJOR decision to make.  Before April 15th.  This decides what I'll be doing for the rest of my life.  well, sort of.

Comm Research

PROS                                                                VS                                           CONS

1. Prove theories for the betterment                                        1. Highly mathematical
of the world                                                                         

2. Social hours                                                                         2. Can get rather dry

3. Rigourous and unbiased work                                             3. I don't know anyone well in research

4. Can be interesting: researching
perceptions to music/tv shows
5. Top researchers are recognised by a 
multi-BILLION dollar industry

6. Good research MAKES the news


PROS                                                                VS                                           CONS

1. I've aligned everything, from CCA to                                     1. Inhumane hours
current semester 2 timetable to JOURN

2. Interesting coursework                                                          2. Thankless job

3. Built strong (er well stronger than CR,                                  3. You report the news, not create it.
links with journalism community
of both writers and professors.
Yay, Maxie!  Yay, Duffy!)

4. Top journalists win Pulitzers.                                               4. Market saturation- fight for a place

5. My school's strength lies in Journalism                               5. Journalism feels like Vulturism.  People in general                                                                                                                hate reporters, nosy idiots keen on opinions, mere                                                                                                              fabrication this is, sometimes.

                                                                                                6. "Think twice before working in SPH" -year 3 senior                                                                                                                uber wombat! ;)
                                                                                                7. COM 221 is essentially demoralising.

Its good to see things in tidy neat rows like this.  I'll say Yes to Communications Research as a major.


  • Feb. 23rd, 2009 at 11:06 AM
"Write a witty saying and your name will live forever" -Anonymous
Tina Fey: A famous person said people who write live forever.
Steve Martin: The man who said that is also dead.

Hugh Jackman's perform
ance as a compère was compelling, he can SING broadway!  N the use of the props proved to be the real icing of the entire introduction to this year's Oscars.  He's an Australian and his awesome spontaneity really brightens up the otherwise stiff and upper-lipped Oscars.

The above quote was linked to Mark Twain, a real wit himself :D

1. Always acknowledge a fault. This will throw those in authority off their guard and give you an opportunity to commit more.

2. An Englishman is a person who does things because they have been done before. An American is a person who does things because they haven’t been done before.

3. Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint. (for the hypochondriac, neurotic me)

4. Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.

5. Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first. (for some 6.5 billion years, not even Methuselah's 969 years makes a dent in that kind of history)

6. Don’t part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live.

7. Facts are stubborn things, but statistics are more pliable.

8. Honesty is the best policy - when there is money in it.

9. I didn’t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying that I approved of it.

10. I have a higher and grander standard of principle than George Washington. He could not lie; I can, but I won’t. 

11. I have been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.

12. I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.

13. In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their language.

14. It could probably be shown by facts and figures that there is no distinctly American criminal class except Congress.

15. It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

16. Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not succeed. (Cool eh, what will your 4.93 GPA mean to you if I got 4.93 as well?  Nothing, save for the fact we were both geniuses.  But if I got 4.0, hey you're the better genius, doesn't that make you feel smug?)

17. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow.

18. Often it does seem a pity that Noah and his party did not miss the boat.

19. Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.

20. We have a criminal jury system which is superior to any in the world; and its efficiency is only marred by the difficulty of finding twelve men every day who don’t know anything and can’t read.

 Learn something new everyday, Catholics fall under the Main Category of Christianity!  I've been wrong to say, "No I'm not Christian, I'm Catholic' for the past 19.75 years.


Blog Entry Dedicated to ARH-MOO (yes you!)

  • Feb. 4th, 2009 at 5:55 AM
I think...

The Worst Job in the World: Layout Editor for Any major newspaper
The Greatest Lesson: The measure of Love is Loss
The Biggest Hearted Word: Forgiveness
The Song I'll never get sick of: Fix You by Coldplay
The Show I'll watch a thousand times: Tonari no Totoro (my neighbour totoro)
The One with the funniest jokes: Friends
The Ice-Cream that always gets me high: Mrs Smith (Ice Cream Chefs)
The Dress of Good Intentions The New-Zealander Wanderer (tiny flowers)
The Chronicle APA Style Must have-:
The All-Nighters are never the Same without: Rmo
The Smell of Bubblegum on SmileWhiles completes: Redcheeks
The LexisNexis Academic Sessions are set on fire with: Bree Van de Kamp
The SMSes are incomplete without: Cats go Meep
The Email Accounts are Always Empty without: Freedomized
The MSNs are less colourful without balloons from: Egg
The New Year's Resolution is not finished without: thinthin
The Heads up Reminders are not sincere if they're not from: About: Blank
The Skyline is Missing: Windmills
The Random Epitomised by: JJ
The Life has no Meaning when there's no: God

Inspired by:
There are as many as 475 000 words in the English Dictionary but the Greatest is God; the longest word is eternity; the swiftest word is time ; the nearest word is Now; the darkest word is sin; the meanest word is hypocrisy; and the deepest word is soul.

I would think, the gripe that traditional old covenant believers have issue with is the fact that the New Covenant doesn't grapple with the the image of Toil and Difficulty.  For years, people have tried to be good and fulfilled moral obligations for God and the church group members of a meeting I attended declared that such a practice was under Law of the Old Covenant.  How can we follow up if we're fallen?  But I challenge that notion, how can we say we have tried to be Christ-like when we haven't?  I think Mega Churches have over-emphasised on the concepts of 'achieve holiness by stop trying to be holy but just believe in the Holy Spirit to do things you cannot do'.  If taken literally, it could be interpreted as a means to slack off and leave everything to the Holy Spirit to do all things since you cannot do them anyway.  Its a bit like 'Why learn the virtues of charity, hope and love when this world is so wretched?'.  The reason being, we learn virtues to realise its needed most desperately in a place of coldness and suffering.  In the hunger we appreciate being full, in lonliness, we treasure company.

Perhaps the New Covenant expounders should now emphasise that having Faith and Believing is no easy task either and that is the 'own-effort' element of subscribing to the New Covenant to 'live under grace' not under 'law'.  For why do we follow a religion that seems to expound on hedonism?  Come to church for a Feel Good factor?  No, we pursue things we believe are difficult to achieve, this is why we sweat and toil, work hard for degrees and jobs because we in our teeth-grinding moments we build character and will be enriched at the end.  Where success doesn't matter because we have spent more time getting there than at the destination.

Christmastime, mistletoe and wine

  • Dec. 3rd, 2008 at 1:24 AM

On that emotion called lonliness, it is assumed that one feels it most acutely when alone, solitary, isolated.  Yet, I happen to feel that it is only in the huge gaping groups of people that I feel the most califare, the most extra--  In a group, one's company is dispensable, it clearly depicts who the duller person is, the stand offish person, the affected stranger.  It brings out the PC in people, polite small talk, a dozen different topics, thereby an attempt on communicating common topics like people, places and gossip.  Though the last factor is the last thing that builds up a good friendship.  I suppose I abhor large impersonal groups now because I have my own small circles of friends, made up of no more than 3 persons at a time.  I think this is an optimal number!  Small enough for trusting disclosure and varied enough to bring across several points of perspective.

It has been a sunshiney holiday, with great warmth in the mornings and the sweetest, coolest breezes of the night to lighten the oppressive heat of staying up late, the heat from the running laptop, the heat of being too lazy to get downstairs for a cup of water.

Tracking back, it has gotten off to a good start, this holiday, re-establishing, or rather renewing a friendship late last month.  Though it would be highly naive of me to think one outing can make everything completely alright, though things certainly improved from there, this is how I thought it was, though maybe Alf might have thought it differently.  (just not conversely i pray)  What was it like?  Its like leaving a conversation window idle for some 2 long years and then revisiting the old cobwebs of memory with greater understanding of what, how and where.  It was a splendid outing, other than exorbitant and unworthy meepok noodles, carbon light umbrellas whose production cost is probably $4, finishing phish food, on the whole it was an outing made pleasant by (might I add, extremely) good company.  Nothing to do with the vast, cold place called (vivacious) vivocity.  Excessive alliteration is a sign of brain damage -adapted from glyph

I have been to Sengkang for the First Time.  Can you imagine?  I had never known compass point to be in sengkang, I had always assumed it to be in Hougang.  I wasn't observant enough to note that Hougang mall EXISTS and where else could it be?  But at Hougang Station!  If I hadn't checked, I'd have cursed and sworn at having gotten off at Hougang Station 2 stops before Sengkang, one stop shy of the other end of the world (of NEL).  The entire landscape was foreign to me, the flats, the colours, the fields.  Though the mall made it seem as if I had never left the heartlands, so similar they are.  You know you're in a heartland mall when on Level One you've got Metro, Level Two you get Harvey Norman and Level Three has Comics Connection.  Its like a MUST for variations of these anchor tenants to exist.  I regret not trying the curry fast food joint though, its on level one! 

Aw I think its sweet and especially sincere when people make an attempt to try and contact facebookless, friendsterless tippany fam through this fungus infested lj, through sms (always effective, except to Rah's phone!)  , through letter writing (from thousands of miles away, america)  I read yanni on comment, miss her company, fear for the future of mass communications and the death of honesty altogether.  I feel warmth, longing and wonder.  Emotions are seldom singular things, they are overriding multicellular organisms that fission new thought and emotion.  I speak to Rah immediately after the dreadful exams and am openly jealous about europe backpacking!  Remember to learn defence science!  I visit Zoeraine's magnificent HomePalace which is filled with a regular varsity student mess and stuffed cupboards of stuffed toys.  I journey to Church and remember Redcheeks looking forward to her coming home, hoping that the holiday is a reprieve from her horrifying stays with room-mates from the Ninth Gate.  I lunch with catsgomeep, kittens meep, cats screech and wonder if she still has the kitty file holder.  Then, there is Cleo, with her winter scarf, old blue glasses and readymade frozen rice, on her way to balestier soon.

I walk along grass strewn concrete paths, fallen branches, sweltering sunshine, random plastic bags and remember the need to remember, intensely, wonderfully, wistfully.