just a few more days and i'll be home! lots of thanks to the greyhound bus driver and the UA pilot in advance. get me there safely k! got tons of stuff to bring home.... lots of beautiful memories to accumulate again (hopefully) and lots of faces i can't wait to see! tho i really wish it'd snow a bit so i can at least go snowboarding ONCE before i go home. what is my board to do without me to ride it? anyway i'm a really untidy person right now.... it's always like that: i get to the stage when i'm almost about to go home, and i stop bothering about everything. it's that give-up-just-before-the-end syndrome that i can never get out of my system. yah... come to think of it, this is really something that plagues me all the time! when i ride my bike up college avenue, my muscles will always feel like giving way JUST before the slope tapers down to flat land. when i write my papers, i'll feel sleepy right before i start the last page. is it just me?

anyway, gotta go back to my studies before i start dozing off.

1. i wonder if you'll ever read this -- and get to know that part of me that lives through words.

2. my foot hurts from shopping. not feet, just my right foot. sometimes it makes me wonder if i'm limping... have you ever seen yourself walk? next time try walking towards a mirror in a shopping mall and watch your gait. might be interesting. :)

3. i'm going to go to studio i''m going to go to studio i'm going to go to studio -- how many times must i tell myself this before i actually find myself in studio?

4. pray.

you know, it's amazing how they make the future great leaders, politicians, lawyers, engineers and architects of tomorrow work on desks the size of matchboxes. it's so bad that i can't place a book on my desk without having to shift my keyboard. sometimes i really do wish that cornell would come to an agreement with our dear benevolent ithacan landlords to provide better studying conditions in apartments -- i mean, how to think big if everything around me is tiny?

anyway, introductions are always besides the point.

point is, i have a huge pile of white rabbit sweets wrappers lying beside my keyboard, with only one of them actually containing a white rabbit. (not that white rabbits are actually supposed to be cuboid, sweet and chewy, with soluble rice paper around them... but yah) why? i don't know. maybe because i'm too lazy to throw them away; maybe because my wastepaper basket is too full; maybe because someone so special gave them to me that i can't find it in my heart to throw them away; maybe because space is there to be occupied; maybe because a messy table is a sign of genius.... ok the list obviously goes on, but what i'm trying to say is that strange things do happen. to the most normal of people.

and this is also the second time i've written this blog cos the first time i wrote it, my itchy fingers had to click on the insert picture button which cleaned off everything on the screen. the sad thing is that my browser actually prompted me with a "are you sure you wanna navigate away from this page you dumbass??" message which i promptly and most regretfully ignored. so there went half an hour of my time and now, being half an hour older and wiser, i've decided that i really need to get lunch. in a while.

watched band of brothers yesterday with meng aun. skipped the medic episode because i watched it before and i knew it was going to be depressing, and so ended up watching the breaking point episode which was equally, if not more depressing. it's funny how i actually expected 1 whole hour of war to be anything less (or more? double negatives can be so confusing) than heartrending. of course, i'm not going to start with this whole tirade of how movies have desensitized us to the atrocities of war, but really... looking at all the luxuries i have around me -- bite sized table, white rabbit sweets, expensive photo frames, messy bed -- and all those soldiers had were cigarettes, which are definitely LOW on my list of luxuries.

ok now that last white rabbit wrapper has lost its white rabbit. to my hungry gaping maw.

I Don't Fear Rain

It's raining now. AGAIN! can't see anything outside my window except for the reflection from the streetlamps off the black tar road that's now an entire flat world of overlapping circles -- shifting, expanding, vanishing -- with every drop of water from the heavens. It sounds like hail from within my room, but it's really peaceful inside here... so different from what i'd hear if i were outside my door. do i like rain? i don't know. Ambivalence at best i guess....


i love the musky smell
after a morning rain
watching droplets carve out
rivers on the window pane
rivers washing away dirt
and grime
and guilt
and bad memories

i love watching windows
those transparent shields
dissolving raging storms
into a muted whisper

yet sometimes i long
for the rain on my shoulders
for the feel of cloth
clinging to warm skin

and sometimes i long
for that low rumbling roar
for the flashes of light
that tear the seamless sky

and sometimes i long
for a warm cup of tea
for the smile on your face
and a soft, gentle kiss

i don't fear rain
or storms for that matter
for once they start
they're bound to be over

wonder how many brave cornell students gave up their lives to this noble cause...

My Little Tune

I'm tempted to count the number of days since I stopped writing, but suffice to say that it has been a long time. Last I remember, it was summer. Now fall is drawing to a close, and the trees on campus are clinging desperately to the last vestiges of their foliage. I'm in my room, safe from the cold outside, headphones clamped to my ears, the voice of Sarah Maclachlan seemingly emanating from the centre of my head. Yes, centre, not center. The mark of inertia, of a stubborn rejection, of a stoic refusal to melt and dissolve into this (still) strange new culture that we've been thrown into. She says, "So, so moving on to love, something I'm very obsessed with..." Yes it's a wonderful thing. To love, to know that somewhere out there there's someone who thinks of you, even if it's not often felt, or even if it sometimes seems too much to handle, too heavy to hold. If there's one thing to be obsessed with, I'd be obsessed with love. It's the one thing that does not ever change, that lifts you up, throws you down, and spins the world around you just like it has done to billions of people before you. I don't ever want to stop loving, I don't ever want to have to remember those throes of passion like they are a thing of a past. :) Why be afraid of love? Why fear that warm touch, that calming kiss, that dizzying sense of soaring....? Why be afraid to tell someone that you love him, or her? Why wait till you find yourself standing outside the concert hall, back in the cold, empty cells of reality before you finally muster enough courage to shout "Encore!" ?

So here I am, in my room, and I'm thinking of all the things I haven't done since. I haven't played my guitar; I haven't written a single song, cos I can't write a song without my guitar. But I've written a poem, about how much I miss music, and about how much I miss someone. Because she made me want to sing, and write, and play. Because thinking of her makes the words rhyme, and makes the notes fall into place. Even though I doubt she'll ever read this blog, well, that's not the point is it? So here it is:

There's a little tune
That floats in the air
It passes through a door
And settles down to where
I'm sitting all alone
Wishing I was home
Hoping that some wind would bear
On silver wings
Me
To where
The silence sings
Me
To where
Those fondest memories lie
Like quivering flames
That are tempted to die

There's a little tune
That rings in my head
Like a crashing wave
On a barren flower bed
Broken I'm cracking,
I'm yearning for water
I'm searching for my voice
Then sand turns to clay and
I'm soaking, I'm breathing
At last
Those notes
Gently floating
To a place I cannot see
To whereI think you'll be.

... someone give me a guitar, so I don't forget what I was (I guess) born to do.

how 1 summer can change a person's life. watch the notebook, or ask me about my summer and i'll tell you :)

i'd write my summer story here, but it's not easy to do it with one hand... so just wait yah?

how 1 summer can change a person's life. watch the notebook, or ask me about my summer and i'll tell you :)

i'd write my summer story here, but it's not easy to do it with one hand... so just wait yah?

OOOH! long absence long absence.

val says, "you can tell that a couple is compatible when they bring out the best in each other." i think i've heard it before, but only now have i seriously considered the wisdom in this short sentence. what does it mean to bring out the best in someone? it is not about pushing someone to his limit, or having him do everything humanly possible to maintain a relationship. it is about giving each other the space to grow, providing the support necessary to help each other realize your dreams. it is about giving someone confidence, dignity and comfort.

hmm. don't think i'm anywhere close to being like that. :P but we all try our darnedness don't we?

i'm back! ok i've just discovered that frog's legs are really fun to eat.  esp the really spicy ones, cos 1. the muscles are all round and bouncy 2. the my-lips-hurt-so-bad-i-wanna-tear-them-off feeling is just SO exciting. 

for 2 days in a row, i've been having almost zero sleep. as a result, my driving journeys are getting more and more hazardous, as can be testified by toingee.  today, on my way back from bukit timah, i woke up just before my car hit the curb.  ok i'm taking a really big and foolish risk here. if my mum sees this, that's it for me and the car man.  gotta stop typing because i'm also falling asleep now. 

I'm currently at a loss for words because there's things happening in my life right now that i hardly dare to talk about, or think about.  It's exhilarating and frightening all at once, and i've never felt so unprepared to deal with something like this before.  everytime i want to blog, i stare at the screen and edit out all my sentences before they even reach my fingers.... some things are just too hard to face, especially when there's so much at stake and when nothing's certain at all.
 
Hmm.... some things are best discussed in retrospect. :)

All The Things

ok great i took forever to figure out why terence said i'm not 21 anymore.

anyway here's a new song!

All the things

And I'm home
I close the door behind me
And I'm finally starting to breathe
I don't think I'll forget those words you said to me
I've lived my life like a big mistake
That was never mine to make
I never had to hold a thought
And let it fade

And all the things that I can't say
Are the things that you'll never know
And all the things that I can't do
My heart is dying to prove

And I'm down
I sink I dream I'm falling
I'm clinging to the edge
Of the road I'm trying to take
I need you to come through
And catch this torch
I'm holding on for you
A candle in the gloom
It's burning still
I'm burning still

You're scared
To go the distance
This journey's not for you
There's no rope and there's no anchor
Are we setting off too soon
But I'll wear my shoes
I will take my chances
There's so much to lose
In your world of choices

saw the sweetest pair of siblings on the mrt today.... this little boy (about 4?) is stroking his sister's neck and his mum slaps the poor kid's hand and tells him not to irritate his sister.  so the boy sits glumly on his seat, and his sister (about 2?) climbs over and pats him on his head.  mum then proceeds to scold the sister for hitting her brother's head, so she switches tactics and starts to sayang his head instead.  soon they're like standing on their seats and hugging each other, and mum's like, "sit-down-don't-talk-stop-playing."  at this juncture, half the carriage was paying rapt attention to the cutest pair of siblings in the whole world, and the other half was staring at the mum with a DUH!?*#^ look written all over their faces.
 
 

omg feels like an eternity since i last blogged. i just realized that there are lots of selfish pple in this world who read my blog but refuse to blog themselves (those bastards).... how can like that? makes me feel like the only idiot in this world with too much time on his hands. sigh.... it's getting harder and harder to convince myself that writing and recording songs is a worthwhile use of time. even harder to convince my parents.... but wth lah, how often does one get 3 months to do something he really enjoys doing? anyway....

my grandma just won lottery so treated me to lunch. YAY! i bet i can win lottery too if i wasn't lazy enuff to make the trip to singapore pools.... :P just like i could be a really good christian if i wasn't lazy enuff to go to church.

i was waiting for a bus opposite my house when i noticed a bunch of construction workers setting up this gate at a factory. (yes my house is beside a bloody industrial estate unlike all you rich kids living in bungalows) anyway so they happily set the gates on their hinges, and when they closed them, lo and behold, one side ended up higher than the other! well, what's the use of gates when the latch doesn't line up right? (then again, what's the use of gates when any 10-yr-old who kicked his ball over can just climb over and get it, but nvm we'll leave that for some other time) so, rather than return to his boss and risk getting his pay docked, the foreman decided to improvise a little with his human resource skills: he got 4 of his workers to balance themselves on one side of the gate, and bounce violently on it so that the gate would bend downwards and align itself. i didn't really dare to laugh cos the people beside me weren't looking and i was afraid of embarrassing myself, but anyway the story ends with the workers somehow managing to get the gate to its right angle, just before my bus arrived, 15 min late.

qn: so how many pple does it take to set up a gate?
ans: 4 workers, 1 supervisor, and the entire factory population trying really hard not to notice.

i think clubbing is a lot more fun when you only do it like once every few months. yesterday night was great man..... even though only 200 over pple turned up, the place was packed and i hardly had space to move about! thanks to vicki, i managed to get a taste of sex on the beach (the drink) and thanks to my vball frens, i realized that if you down a quarter of a jug of tequila coke at one go, you might actually start to like it. tianai tell your fren she dances really well! paiseh that i had to bangseh her halfway cos i went to find my sis :) i want photo!!!!! anyways, it's so nice to see many of my ex-schoolmates there.... pity i didn't really have the energy to chat pple up, but who cares! yay fun fun....

and good that my sister managed to scrape a little bit of profits, enuff for me to get some really nice 'oh lua' (fried oyster)(omg if those oysters can get any juicier, they'd be called oranges). does food remove the effects of alcohol? cos after i ate, i managed to get sober enuff to wipe that perpetual silly grin off my face and act like a decent 22-yr-old. or maybe it's just the 'oh lua'.

anyway, after our cab ride home, my sister commented that the taxi driver probably thot she was a prostitute. i was like, hmm.... double meaning siah.... so are you talking about your bimbo dress or are you talking about my face.....? i did think i looked passably decent....

moral of the story.... taxi drivers' lives can be really interesting.

i.e. watching the world go by in your rear view mirror.

pool is so much more fun than billiards.

somebody tell me how turtles mate. today i went into the bathroom and saw my two terrapins in their nice little whatchamacallit..... bucket? container? whatever.... anyway, female terrapin is sitting on male terrapin's shell, and both of them are looking like the most blissful pair of chelonias in the world. usually they'll scamper around the moment i enter the bathroom either cos they think i'll feed them or they don't like my face, but TODAY things are different. female turtle isn't even looking at me. male turtle is looking at me but with that kind of lazy i-can't-really-be-bothered-with-you-anymore stare, so i kind of figured that maybe they had a happy little romp just before i came in. but upon (ok i'm not a pervert, i'm just scientifically curious) inspection, i realized that i have not a single clue how it is physically possible for turtles to mate. and why do female turtles end up on top?

help? and don't ask me why i have terrapins in my bathroom.

just wrote a blog about how my volleyball juniors are now becoming rather talented at volleyball. and when i published it everything got deleted. so yah.

what if one day ALL my entries disappear somehow? HOW HOW HOW?

avril lavigne. five for fighting. third eye blind.

i have the biggest crush on avril right now.

spiderman was nice! at least he gets the girl he loves. though i can't help but feel that mary-jane's not exactly a good example for girls to follow. to all those guys out there who slog their lives out for the ones they love, well, be glad that there aren't that many superheroes around....plus what's so good about spiderman anyway? empty cartridge all the time.

i need a band. and a better voice. and music that works. anyone out there wants to sing for me?

ouch. it hurts.

in the light of what i'm feeling right now, i'd like to say sorry to my parents for ever saying that i hated them, or that i hated what they did. and to my sister too, for telling her so many times that she's ruining my life, that she's a complete ass etc etc... i'm glad that these three people in my life have an immense tolerance for verbal abuse. as much as i would like to deny this, i have to say that i've taken my family for granted. even now, i still take them for granted. i wouldn't say these things to my friends, cos i know that friends can leave. but i know my family would tolerate me, and therefore i take my liberties with their feelings.

to all those friends that i've taken for granted, i'm really sorry. i'm starting to realize that it's my best friends that i take for granted, because deep down it seems like they will never go away. i'll try to change ok?

all around me, people are having problems with relationships. why? why can't people just compromise, just be contented with what they have, just be free to love each other...? it's really sad to see people who are not in love forced to stay together, and people who are in love forced to break apart. where's cupid when we all need him? or aphrodite? or whoever's in that particular department who's obviously not doing his/her job....?

on a lighter note, i celebrated julie's bday today with my (hopefully going to be) lifelong frens yilin, weiquan and val. once again, another late night romp around the whole of singapore, plenty of schemes, stealth and sweat.... i love nights like these. yilin, i promise i won't put sparklers or any other bright objects in front of my face again. for the record, i reached home at 3am, my dad was in the living room, and I'M STILL ALIVE. that's all that matters: i'm still alive. but you know what, after a while it's kind of boring to keep driving the same route.... next time val goes home first, and yilin will be last. okee? :)

quote of the day: WHO NEEDS LOVE WHEN YOU HAVE FRIENDS???!?!?!!? (makes absolutely no sense, but will suffice for now :P)

Changed

Songs are so easy to write if you just don't try too hard. :) (courtesy of vicki -- with slight paraphrasing)

Changed

Can you see the other side of me
I've changed
I spent far too long inside a dream staying the same
It's so strange
To feel like someone else
To feel good
But I'm sinking all the way

Can you remember what it was
I used to be
Can you remember what it was
You saw in me
You said you love the way I am
If I could only try to change
Why didn't I find a way to say
That you're the one who couldn't understand

And if you feel you haven't left a thing
Behind
Well you're wrong now you're gone
And you can't say I didn't try
Do you know I've lost much
More than you
Can I find myself
Now you've taken me apart

Can you remember what it was
I used to be
Can you remember what it was
You saw in me
You said you love the way I am
If I could only try to change
Why didn't I find a way to say
That you're the one who couldn't understand

But if things were different do you think
That you'd be leaving anyway

Saw a car today with the license plate SE1X. No I'm not bluffing. I stopped directly behind it cos I couldn't believe my eyes. It's really heartwarming how Singaporeans try.

i just watched windstruck! ok so the ending was so lame it made me want to shut my eyes and imagine my own ending, but still i really really enjoyed the show, if only because sassy girl is just fantastic. it's amazing how she could just pour her heart out into a movie that didn't exactly seem worth the effort. the way she screamed into her walkie talkie for an ambulance while holding her dying bf was so real and so desperate i could almost feel the people beside me reaching for their handphones to dial 911 for her (or 995 in our local context). oh boy the idiot beside me had beautiful ringtones man. real smooth. and it's amazing how his phone has to ring right at the emotive scenes when everything is quiet, just at the moment when everyone's heart is about to tear....

but that's another story. yah back to screaming into walkie talkies. oh yah and the way she called his handphone after he died, and talked to his answering machine....i hate answering machines. i hate it when i so desperately need to talk to you, and all i hear is that same sweet, timid, mildly apologetic voice that i knew and loved so well, those same lines over and over again. sigh....that's why i don't call anymore.

but anyway....

oh and the part i love most about the show is when she stands teary-eyed at the window, and the gust of wind that's myungwoo's spirit blows into the room, lifting up her lustrous hair.... and then the front of her sweater is brushed aside for a long moment revealing the words "Giordano" on her t-shirt underneath. Classic. I really love it when the movie makers try so hard. imagine the poor technician painstakingly adjusting the fan speed, imagine the 20 takes it took to get the sweater flapping the right way at the right time. that's what sponsors are for. to stretch the limits of cinematic ingenuity.

the only constant in my life seems to be my insatiable thirst for writing. not that i'm prolific, it's just an urge. how often do i just sit here in front of this screen with so many thoughts dashing through my head, and that nagging hunger to open up my heart into this little little space within the vast universe of the internet.

everyone should write songs. i seriously think it's not about talent.... but no one believes me.

haven't written much, but feels like i've gone through an entire novel.

talking is so therapeutic. i can never tell someone that i don't want to talk anymore, because i know the effect it has on me when someone hangs up the phone, or refuses to speak.

don't keep secrets. don't be afraid that people will use your secrets against you. don't keep your heart trapped within your ribcage like a dangerous animal. think about it, what do we have that animals don't? we have language, minds and a decent lifespan of about 70 years.... 70 years to understand this world, to live to the fullest, to enrich the lives of others and be enriched in the process. why keep it to yourself? why wait till you're breathing your last breath to realize that you have so many things to say but no one to say it to, or no strength to utter a sound?

tell us about your life! why do we need to know? why? we don't need to know, we want to. that's all there is.

after wasting away my afternoon and evening with a string of unimaginably pathetic billiard games, i've decided never to look down on ah bengs again.

My Favourite Addiction

wrote this today, over gunbound and msn and dinner...

My Favourite Addiction
I see you walking in the night
And I'm not putting up a fight
Oh won't you take me
I let you in

I let you inside
But there are shadows in the dark
I think I'm weak I think I'm scared
But I don't care

I see you dancing in my eyes
I feel you tearing up my mind
And then you rock me into sleep
You know I'm crying out inside
But you don't need to sympathise
Oh don't you ever realize
That you're my favourite addiction

But you don't know and you don't care
You close your eyes and I'm not there
I hear your laughter in my dreams
I feel your fire in my sleep

But I'm awake and I'm alone
It's all in vain I know I'm wrong
But I'll keep on trying
I'll keep on lying

I see you running in my head
I feel you turning in my breath
And then you rock me into sleep
You know I'm crying out inside
But you don't need to sympathise
Oh don't you ever realize
That you're my favourite addiction

And I won't stop and I won't cease
You're in my head like some disease
Do I need to find a cure
Or does it matter anymore

You say you need me to survive
You say I'm keeping you alive
But then you leave me out to dry
You know I'm burning up inside
But you don't need to sympathize
Oh don't you ever realize
That you're my favourite addiction

the resolve only lasts about, i dunno, 5 days? then everything breaks down and my mind is reduced to that of a whimpering drug addict, helpless in his craving. yes, i would say it's an addiction, to put it as cruelly to myself as possible. sometimes there's a very real need to destroy what's left of that little sliver of hope, when that hope eats into you like a silent, apologetic, teardrop-eyed killer. but addictions can go either way. they can kill you, or be overcome, thereby making you stronger and more resilient.

all i need is a halfway house, plenty of chains and ropes, and some water. and some patience, till the resolve kicks in again.

in the distance, the sky descends and touches the earth. everything is two dimensional, and the silhouette of the trees become fragments of darkness that shred the fiery red canvas into little pieces. i stare, and realize that i can actually touch the sky.

if only i drive hard enough.

to A:
don't thank me for helping you. the only reason why i can give you such insightful advice is because i've gone through exactly the same things, just one step ahead of you. trust me, it's not something i'm proud of. why do i get so angry at you? because i'm angry at myself. you wouldn't listen no matter how many times i tell you, but i can't say that i'm any better at listening to my own advice. it's so ironic, that the same problems i've so easily settled for you are screwing up my life right now, it's so ironic because i see you so happy, so proud of having taken my advice and setting your life straight, and i feel like the office sweeper who's life is the inspiration of the bright young scholar, but who is incapable of inspiring himself.

to B:
don't say sorry. the only person who made a mistake was me.... all you did was to show me how vulnerable i am, and there's really nothing wrong in that is there? so don't say sorry. but don't ask me to cheer up, or to brood less, cos you're in no position to do that.

to C:
i'm going to pray real hard that what turned out to be a mistake for me would be the correct decision for you. cos you're so much more vulnerable than me, and what's worse, you don't know it.

she wants me to write about her dog. let's see. Princess Gabrielle of Applewood Farms. Gabbi. don't call her gabriel, or applewood, or farm for that matter, cos you can't cut it short. it's either Princess Gabrielle of Applewood Farms, or Gabbi, or you just keep quiet and show some respect.

cutest thing on earth-dark chocolate-itty bitty all over-floppy-tennis ball-curls-more curls-cutest thing on earth-can't reach the doorknob-my pillow-she's never ever gonna have sex-fluffy puffy all over-stares up at me-cutest thing on earth.

deep breath.

scratches really hard.

then again, whatever.

there are two things i want most for my birthday. one, that you'd remember my birthday. two, that you'll not. that's what i'm thinking as i sit in the bus, my mind numb to the droning rumble of the engine... i look at the wallet in my hands and realize with a little start that you gave it to me on my first birthday. and then i remember my second birthday, the birthday you forgot. and i remember myself saying to you, it's ok, it's ok....listening to you crying softly at the other end of the line, wondering which was making my heart hurt more, your tearful words or the disappointment. i go back to the wallet and stare. and imagine that i can see memories inside that dull black surface. and then i really do see. you and i at the beach, with bent twigs in our hands, drawing a picture of a dog and a cat side by side. i see myself wondering what's wrong with the picture, what's missing, and then an idea strikes me. i start walking around it, tracing a slow, deep curve with each step. then i step back and hold your hand as we look at the big heart shape surrounding the two animals.... the heart's a little squashed at the side, but you say it's beautiful and nothing in this world would make me disagree. and then i see us lying in your bed, well, not really. you lying in your bed and me propped on an elbow beside you, watching you sleep. it seems to happen so often.... i'd wake up and find you beside me, and i'd refuse to go back to sleep, not wanting to lose the chance to just look at you, to just touch your face gently with my fingers, because it's during these times that time really does stand still, and nothing else really matters.

and then my wallet returns to its dull black sheen, and i tell myself it's time to stop thinking. i'd rather you forget. even though it's going to break my heart, even though it's going to make me want to cry, i'd rather you forget. i wonder if you are going to read this, and then i stop.... do i really want you to read this? i dunno, guess not. i guess all i really want is for you, when you are tucking yourself into bed, to feel a sudden urge to sneeze. cos like you said, it means someone is thinking of you. and then maybe, for that little moment just before you slip gently into slumber, you'd remember me.

sprinkle golden starlight into my eyes, just be careful don't blind me, or get anything into my nose, or later sekali i choke then you siao liao.

erm.... why did i say that for....

i am making frens on gunbound.... how sad is that? actually it's not very sad cos there are loads of sadder things in this world, like my mum refusing to buy a new car for me to drive. for example. omg the mazda rx8 is so chio, it's like a 100 ton electrobabemagnet. ever wonder why they call things babe magnets? cos girls have so much metal on them. ok lame.

where is sera? argh. and where is yongchuan? i hate working people cos they can't come out at 11am and play badminton. and i hate busy people cos they make me feel so slack. lots of hatred in this world. but lots of love also! observation: there's a lot more PDA in singapore than in australia. who says asians are conservative? or maybe caucasians just can't be bothered anymore. hmm... ok fullstop.

oh my american friend took a whole 10 minutes to understand what i was trying to say when i said fullstop. i still think fullstop makes a lot more sense than period, but well. it's impossible to convince americans how stupid they are.

If You Have To

heehee.... i'm in the song writing mood these days.... can just imagine myself 50 years from now with a guitar in my hands playing singing these songs to my grandchildren.... hope i have grandchildren! :)

If you've seen your face in the pale moonlight
If you've seen your smile as I'm holding you tight
If you've seen your eyes looking back into mine
You'll know you're good enough for me

If you've felt your lips in that sweet morning kiss
If you've held your hands said I'll never leave
If you've felt your heart beating right next to mine
You'll know you're good enough for me

So leave if you have to
Pack your life and take it with you
Don't look back if you don't need to
Don't turn around and let me stop you

But if one day you feel that you're not worth a second look
And if one day you feel that you're not good enough for anyone
And if one day you feel that there's no one left to choose
You know you're good enough for me

i'm still jetlagged! comforting to know that tian ai is also suffering the same ailment as me.... then, again, what's wrong with being jetlagged right? going out during the day, can't sleep at night, this is really extending my hours of productive time! :)

do celebrities ever have crushes on their fans?

School's Out

Schools out
Shirt's hanging out
And there's nothing in our way
I can't wait
You've got nothing to trade
So take it all and keep the change
Don't leave me
Don't leave me
And if the sun comes down on us
We'll find our way
If the wind won't let me breathe
You'll take my place
If the rain is pouring in
There's nothing I can do cos we're open
We're open

Kiss me
When nobody's looking
Just checking
They're sleeping
I'm taking her dough
And I'll find my own future
And save some for you
So don't leave me
Don't leave me
Cos if the sun comes down on us
We'll find our way
If the wind won't let me breathe
You'll take my place
If the rain is pouring in
There's nothing we can do cos we're open
We're open

comments! enuff for a song?

I just found out that there are people who take so much longer to say goodbye, and to forget. That there are people who love so much more, and sacrifice so much more, only to lose everything.

Does it help to know?

anyone who's watched shrek2 should know never to trust big round cute looking eyes again. or for that matter, to trust big round scary green eyes that glow in the dark.

what then, is there left for us to trust? i dunno.... i'd still fall for big round cute looking eyes anytime!

there's never enough to eat. there's never enough ice in the freezer. there's never enough cans of sprite lying around waiting for me. sometimes 24 hours a day is too much time. :P

american idol season 3(?) is over, singapore idol season 1 is starting this saturday, and i can imagine myself being captivated all over again! unless of course the singing sucks, or if the contestants are ugly, but how lousy can singapore singers be??? erm.

was going to try out for singapore idol, just for the kicks, but as of now i'm still not going to do it cos everyone's gonna laugh at me and if i don't get in i'll kill myself :) so i guess i'll just content myself to strumming on my guitar and trying to come up with a fantastic song that i'd be sure would be a hit (if only i sent it to some producer somewhere). :)

it sucks when i have to tell myself: THIS IS WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO, or, PUT THIS OUT OF YOUR MIND.

it makes me feel like i'm not really in control, like there's something in me that keeps straying, that has to be kept in check constantly. someone said to me before i came back to singapore: won't you get reminded of her, being in singapore and all? my answer, then, was no. well.

i need to be busy this summer.... wrote half a song and got distracted, hope i can remember it when i get back to it. it's written for the people who don't know how much effect they have on others, who touch those around them and then move on, clueless to the lives they have changed.

Saw a huge man with tattoos all over his bulging biceps planting roses in front of Balch Hall today.

Red in the face, he's holding a stalk of roses and talking to his partner, an older guy about half his size. And wondering if the roses he planted on one side of the pavement was too clustered, cos he started five rows on this pavement and only had four rows on the other side. In all analytical and philosophical seriousness. And all the while I was staring at the rose stalk, and marvelling at just how tiny and fragile it looked in his hands...

Moral of the story? I dunno.... everyone loves roses? Don't judge a book by its cover? Big men make good gardeners? Whatever it is, it just made my day that much nicer to see this muscled giant in his dirty faded overalls, all red and sweaty, doing his part to make our world a pretty pretty place. :)

i think i'm superficial. and i think you're beautiful.

please, don't be angry anymore.... can't you guys just be nice to each other and love each other always, like you promised long ago? being alone is a horrible thing. maybe you've both forgotten what it's like to be alone, but i've living with it right now and it isn't nice at all! why? is being together too boring?

took an hour long walk down to kfc yesterday night.... followed by an hour long walk back.... realized a few things

1. my ankles are falling apart
2. ithaca does not look safe at all at 12 midnight
3. ithaca is actually pretty safe at 12 midnight
4. if you don't remove your card from the atm machine, you're screwed
5. singapore kfc is much better than american kfc
6. you can read an entire magazine in wegmans and no one really cares
7. if you don't have a plasma tv, you can always project your movie from your patio onto your neighbour's wall
8. cashiers in wegmans are too efficient to care about what you buy
9. i miss holding hands
10.why do we always need 10 points?

this semester's coming to a close... one of the most interesting semesters i've ever had. i'm missing a lot in life, but i also possess a lot more than i ever expected, especially after last year. i hope i never lose anything again.

to the people who've come into my life and made it different.
to the people who taught me what love is.
to the people who made me realize my capacity to love.
and to take nice pictures.

i need scotch tape. it's amazing how much time i can waste sitting here and waiting for sera to come home so i can get scotch tape from her. i think my life has no meaning.

How long can pencil lead stay in your body before it kills you?

I've yet to find out. But it's certainly more than a decade. When I was about 8, breakfasts were scenes of battle between my mum and us children.....

Mum's goal:
1. Get these two rascals to finish their homework before the schoolbus arrives.
2. Get these two rascals to finish their revision for today's spelling test before the schoolbus arrives.
3. Get these two rascals to finish the cereal/bread/ugly-looking-porridge before the schoolbus arrives.

Our goal:
1. Procrastinate long enough so that our mum would finish our homework for us.
2. Perform acts of retching that were convincing enough to a)get our mum to stop making us eat, b)not have to go to school.
3. Do whatever we want to do and be one with the world.

On that fateful morning, my mum was engaged in 1, 2 and 3, while i was happily engaged in 3. 3 being playing with my pencil and poking myself with the eraser at one end of the pencil. It was not my day. My mum somehow managed to distract me enough from my ritualistic meditation to cause me to jab myself hard in my right hand with the wrong end of my pencil (the lead end), leaving me staring for about 10 seconds at the pencil balancing precariously from the upper layers of my punctured flesh. The broken lead point was removed in the end, but not before the industrious pencil managed to leave a small trail of graphite that has survived in my hand till this day.

2 years later, the same thing happened, this time to my left wrist.

2 lessons: First, that graphite does not assimilate readily into the bloodstream, nor does it dissolve in tissue fluid. Second, that things which pierce often leave a trace of their passing. Not a scar (for my skin had quickly healed over the graphite), but a trace, locked into my flesh forever.

Wounds never heal completely, never. Even when it doesn't hurt anymore, one just has to flip to the right page in that vast sea of memory to notice that little grey spot, dark and jarring, staring straight back.

Everybody moves on. A break up; a graduation; migrating overseas; quitting a job; losing a loved one.... everybody moves on.

It's not easy, but it's not that hard either. And after awhile, everyone realizes that. Graduation Night 2004.... everyone is having a good time taking pictures. Everyone watches the video with a sense of relaxed nostalgia, laughing hard at the funny photos, growing a little quiet at the touching ones, enjoying the excellent wine. In Junior College, almost all of us cried, or felt like crying. I didn't see anyone crying here.... only long, tight hugs that acknowledged 3 years of much more real and meaningful friendships that one could ever have had. 3 years of living together, going for vacations, of relationships made and broken, made again, of money matters, academic matters, house matters, all acknowledged and revisited within one tight hug. And then we all move on. We don't say that our friendships will last forever, because words are just words at the end of the day.

I'd like to say I've moved on as well. I keep what I can, and let go of whatever wants to go. I don't cling on anymore cos it works against gravity, and the gravity of time tugs really hard.

But I'll never forget, and I'll never stop loving. Have a good life, and may angels watch over you. :)

now i know why i don't blog often anymore. cos the posting screen is ugly. everytime i see it i don't feel like writing!

anyways, played paintball on saturday.... what is amazing about paintballs is that they are just hard enough to hurt but not pierce your skin. when i returned home, i looked at the red mark on my chest, left by a point blank shot. if it had been a real rifle, that mark would still be there, except that it would have been hollow, and my left shoulderblade would also have been blown clean off as the bullet spirals through my lungs, mangling everything in its path and exploding out my back. people go to war because they didn't have paintball those days. because they didn't have the chance to look at a paintball bruise and go, "oh my god.... that would have taken my eye out along with half my brain."

but paintball is fun. countries should wage paintball wars instead of real ones, and just see who wins. in the end, everyone would have a bit of adrenaline pumping fun, get to go home to their wives, and at the same time resolve all their differences. ok it's not as easy as that. people go to war because their lives depended on it. don't fight, die. fight, die. i hope singapore doesn't go to war. i hope the paintball marker is the hardest and fastest projectile i'll ever get to experience on my chest.


i want to sing. i want to stand in front of tens of thousands of people, and sing. my heart out. and mesmerise the audience for all of 10 minutes (maybe 20). and then, as the curtains close, go back to become a normal cornell student who stares at his computer screen and hums along with robbie williams.

Sketch

Sketch:
A painted easter egg in a broken glass of sherry
A crying child and a fireman's fury
Billowing sails in a ruby sky
A piece of your mind

Read:
My wordless confessions
The thin red line between your heart and mine
A kiss in the parking lot
Each of a thousand prying eyes

Live:
In the warmth of my dreams
In the cradle of my prayer
Till the end of the road
And don't say it's over

one week of vacation, and now i can't bring myself to do any work! i can't understand why, but my engines just refuse to start and what's worse, my work is just piling up like crazy. just spent like 3 hours trying to upload my florida pictures (in vain) and another 2 hours trying to look for yang yang's birthday present. thanks goodness i found something! :)

ladida.... florida was cool. what's really cool about the trip though was the people i saw or met during the short 5 days there. number one on the list: CAB DRIVERS!!!! every single cab driver we met was like a caricature himself. there was Rachid the cab-fee-squabbler; Love the perpetual smiling machine from Haiti who laughed at our chinese conversation even though he had no clue at all; !!Bachiri!! the drama driver with his characteristic "New York Chinese Buffeee" and "satisfee", his conmannish schemes, his half-hour lecture on Islam and his terrible hair; and the two chinese drivers who, well, just drove.

in fact, orlando with its jungle of theme parks and fantasy worlds was more or less an entire universe of caricature -- all bright and sunny and smiley and obsessively colourful. and now cornell seems like the dullest place on earth.

wanna go home!

Snowflake

if i were a flake of snow

if i were a flake of snow
i would be sapphire blue
smooth, thin, light as a feather
to ride the wind and seek you

i would float while others
fall through greying skies
and wait as you step outside
to greet the world with tearful eyes

but down i would spiral
as you walked silently on
with shadows in your mind
your defenses gone

till you see my smile
like shimmering blue seas
and you reach out your finger
to touch me

and for the rest of my life
that brief eternity
i'll take care of you
and you'll take care of me

for me, art has always been that shimmering screen of water that overflows from a barrel filled past its brim. it's an expression of what is already there, it's an extension of everything i experience in my life. art is never something that i can just sit down and create. i guess the word "draw" says it all -- siphoning off a portion of my life and emptying it onto a clean sheet of white paper. thus my art in junior college was a frenzy of creativity, of soft flighty drawings alongside raw, stark poetry. i was restless and passionate, confronted everyday by social intricacies, surrounded by more restless and passionate kids trying desperately to grow up.

when i was with kay, my drawings would take weeks to painstakingly emerge, and my poems all turned into songs. i felt older, and thought little of my enthusiastic and confused explorations before. everything i created looked beautiful to me. going through my break up, the songs i wrote comforted me. i was surprised that i could still write, even though my drawings were starting to fade away.

now i'm sitting here, and wondering why i don't draw anymore. why no more songs come to me. why my words don't rhyme. and why that barrel seems a whole lot lighter.

Ultimate Reward: the wonderful feeling of walking home.

Silent Prayer: to have someone to walk home to.

Reality: whatever i want to make of it.

Painters don't have to explain their art, but architects do.

i'm staring at the screen and i'm at a loss -- i have nothing to write, nothing to tell...

maybe it's because that single story that has crept its way into every blog, weaving through every line, every paragraph, has finally ended. the story that never seemed to end.

how many times must you close the door on me before i stop knocking?

how many times must i listen to your gentle and never-changing voice in that answering machine before i'll learn to stop calling?

why is it so hard to stop myself from thinking of you?

why is it so hard to keep you from my dreams, to stop reaching out for that vague transient memory in the dead of the night?

why do i paint this perfect picture of you in my heart, when i my mind tells me otherwise?

why does my heart still break?


and why, why can't i cry anymore...?

it's 3.30am and i'm still doing work. at least i was until i decided to take a break cause my back is well, breaking.

today i got home from school and i decided i was going to SLEEP. i think that's like the second time in my whole cornell experience that i slept in the afternoon! The first time was when i broke up... i think there's this pattern, it's like the moodier i am, the more i feel like sleeping. I guess sleep, for me, is a silent prayer that things will get better. That the world i wake up to will be just that little bit brighter.

and after i publish this blog, i'm going to lie down in front of the computer

and let my dreams take me where i want to go....

when spring comes, what else would it melt....?

My favouritest photo ever. Took it at Quebec during fall break last year, while my friends were in the toilet.

it's called "holding"

i ate black and white m&m's today. SO COOL!!! the packaging says, "help us find our colours" and there's apparently this contest of some sort at mms.com which has typically attractive prizes that no one is really keen about cos no one expects himself to be one of the 6 lucky people IN THE WHOLE OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA to find a packet of m&m's with colour.

so i wasn't particularly disappointed when i opened mine and found out that i just helped clear another non-prize-winning packet off the shelves of the Green Dragon at Sibley Hall. What was surprising was the number of people i know (in architecture) who really like the black and white m&m's and pray to heaven that the original ones never come back to our beautiful planet. I'm one of them :)

It's just like how a black and white photo immediately captures my attention. not because it brings me back to my grandparents' days when everyone was still wearing loincloths and running around with clubs and bludgeons. ok that's pushing it a little....:P but well, it's because there's just something about a world in grayscale that is so emotive and elegant, that makes colour seem so additive sometimes. you look at a black and white portrait and see nothing of the make up or adornments that people love to hide behind. you see a stark reality, a bare soul staring back at you.

but we aren't used to seeing bare souls. so we retreat back into our comfortable world of colour and make that our reality.


i guess i'll probably last about 3 more weeks before i start pining for coloured m&m's again :P

a year on the mountain

i meet you at the top of the slope. it's my first time skiing down this mountain, and your first time too. we are all a little nervous.

"i'll go first. follow me and you'll be safe yah?"

i can't see what's in front of me, but you seem reassured by my brave words and suddenly the slope doesn't matter anymore.

we make our way slowly down the mountain. i learn fast, and when you fall, i climb back up to pull you to your feet. you are tired, but happy. once or twice you lean upon my chest to catch your breath, and butterflies flutter in my stomach.

we're halfway down. we stop, and you sit down on the soft snow, pulling me down with you. the stars are really beautiful tonight. you seem to want to say something, but the words never make it past your lips, so i lean over and give you a kiss. you smile, and i'm happy.

we get used to the slope after awhile, and i ski a little faster, a little more dangerously. the chill excites me and quickens my descent. we make fewer stops. i don't know if you still fall, but i guess you can manage it. i pass many forks in the trail, but i take the wider paths because i know you'd take them too.

all too soon i reach the end of the slope. i look back but i can't see you. my heartbeat starts to quicken, and i shout your name.

the mountain echoes back at me.

i stand at the bottom of the slope, not knowing where to go or what to do. could you be stuck somewhere, waiting for my help as skiers fly past you? could you have taken a wrong path and ended up somewhere else? maybe i took a wrong path.... maybe we both did. could you have left the mountain without me?

the last bus has left. the lights lining the mountain slope go off, leaving in their absence ghostly shimmers of ionised gas. it starts to snow. the cold wind seeps into my jacket as i remove my skis and place them upon my shoulders. step by step i trudge back up the mountain, hoping to find you.

the world is silent. the stars shine ever so beautifully, bringing recent memories to my mind. i smile, but worry takes over. my feet hurt. i squint my eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of your pink jacket. nothing. the snow bites into my flesh as i start to think wild thoughts.

maybe the search dogs would find me tomorrow, a lone figure motionless in the vast white landscape.

maybe i'll never see you again.

maybe you left and forgot about me.

or maybe i'll wake up on my desk, and find out that it was all a dream.


it is snowing heavily now.

don't you feel that sometimes you just care too much about the wrong things? or the wrong people? of course you do. but then, how do you know which are the right things? how do you know who the right people are? there's no easy way to find out... and often even when you do find out, it doesn't make a difference. you continue to be mired in the depths of your own shortsightedness, until things happen that shock you, a little too late, into your senses.

i have a packet of lays on my table that i can't eat because of my horrible ulcer. so i stare at the packet and chance upon this label:

GUARANTEED FRESH
Until printed date
or this snack's on us.

i wonder what unfresh lays potato chips taste like. fritolay should add another label with diagrams and analysis of unfresh potatoes to further inform their customers. maybe even a nicely packaged smell capsule with the essence of unfresh lays potato chips.

anyway the moral of this story is: don't bite your lips when you sleep. or you're gonna have to sit on your desk and helplessly watch your lays expire themselves.

i've been listening to the same set of songs on my mp3 player, since like november last year. many times i've thought about changing the songs to the newer ones i downloaded to my computer, but somehow or other this step is never taken. i don't really know why, and i don't really know if i'm trying to make a point with this, but well, it could be because i'm too lazy to go through all the deleting and copying, or it could be because i've grown so used to these 30 songs and this particular sequence that having to change it seems almost blasphemous.... almost like converting to another religion.

or it could be because this set of songs represent almost everything that i am at this particular moment in my life. one song: life for rent by dido...

I haven't ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologize that once again I'm not in love
But it's not as if I mind
that your heart ain't exactly breaking

It's just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

I've always thought
that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone
and live more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
As there's really nothing left here to stop me

It's just a thought, only a thought

But if my life is for rent and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cos nothing I have is truly mine

While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try
Well how can I say I'm alive

If my life is for rent…


... i can't say i fully comprehend the song's intended meaning, but i just feel that despite living for 21 years, i've yet to make my life mine. i've yet to take charge of this soul and say "this is where i want to go", "this is what i want to be". but as much as i feel this song is a parallel to my present condition, there's something deep within me that is telling me, "it's time you change your songs. it's time you live by a whole new melody."

i've seen a whole slew of melancholic blogs... from my sis, lydia, vicki, chuan, just to name a few. i am also guilty of posting a long series of depressing entries. maybe it's really time for us all to take a look at our lives and wonder why we are so unhappy, why we feel victimised, why we are unsatisfied with what we have.

who knows, maybe obtaining happiness is as easy as plugging in an mp3 player, deleting the 30 old songs, and uploading 30 new ones.

the colder it gets, the more i wish that my gloves can be replaced by someone else's hands. :)

this is one of the times i wish i didn't let so many people see my blog. there were so many things going through my mind from the end of vday yesterday to the moment i woke up, and after i called kay to wish her a safe journey back to australia and found out she had left already. i created a blog so that at times like these, when i simply have to write down my thoughts, i can just click on a link to quench this urge and let go of all my pent up feelings. but then now i worry that people would read this and start .... oh well, nvm.

i hope vday was a happy day for most people this year. for me, vday was like a dream. in dreams you think that everything is possible.....even the things that you know aren't.

i used to have crushes on lots of girls, and during jc i would waste hours upon hours just sitting in front of my computer and waiting for her/them to come online. it's so amazing how this state of waiting has changed over time... in the olden days, people waited at their doorsteps for messengers to deliver verbal information, in WW2, anxious housewives would collapse when the ominous government car stopped at their frontyard... then came the postman on his scooter, the most anticipated figure in town... who then got elbowed away by the email, and then we had pagers and handphones, which we would caress in our sweaty palms, waiting for the "one message received. read now?" message. and at the same time, this wonderful invention called the icq, later followed by msn, which never failed to make my heart beat faster whenever i saw that little pop up in the corner of my screen that said "@ is online". i don't really know what point i'm trying to make, except that people are always waiting. waiting for dad to come home, waiting for friends to arrive at the party, waiting for that favourite crush to appear in the canteen during his/her break, waiting for letters, messages, waiting for a special person to come online, waiting for that birthday/christmas/vday etc present....

basically hoping against hope that one isn't forgotten.

Disclaimer: To all my gal friends, this blog is meant to be read in a good mood, and if you are not currently in that state of mind, please kindly refrain from glancing down. The author of this blog is not responsible for any dashed egos or anything of that sort.

if you're happy and you know it please carry on.

I was just thinking the other day how strange the opposite gender is. In the light of the impending VDAY, i will attempt to pen down some of my thoughts and experiences.

1. girls get sad/happy for the most inexplicable of reasons, which remain inexplicable even after they are made known.

2. they manage to read into the slightest of issues and blow them up to gargantuan proportions

3. they laugh and giggle together with no prior warning and then resolutely refuse to discuss the sources of their amusement.

4. they simply refuse to tell you why they are angry with you, so that instead of being able to change your behaviour, you end only being able to pacify them for one moment and having to make the same mistake over and over and over again.

5. they live lives shrouded in mystery, and believe that sharing their opinions with normal guy friends is a compromising act that would make them susceptible to ill intentions and/or affect their image. even when they know that playing computer games and watching soccer leaves no space in the minds of guys for deep stuff like these.

6. they think that starving themselves is a worthwhile cause, even when they know just how fun dieting is in places like ethiopia and other health conscious parts of africa. there's just something fundamentally immoral about paying 10 bucks to enter the dining hall and eat a bowl of salad.

7. they refuse to discuss their weight. as if guys looking at a slender and pretty girl would be severely put off if she weighs 60kg.

8. they find it ridiculous and amusing that guys only care about superficial things like appearances and feel that these things aren't what matter. yet they refuse to discuss their weight.

9. they consider it a criminal act to go to the restroom alone. (thank you simtong for this contribution) thus a dinner table with 7 girls and 3 guys often has very drastic changes in occupancy.

10. they can spend more than an hour combing their hair, when it comes out no different than before.

11. they think guys are disgusting, but they love guys nonetheless. how can any self respecting girl endure a 1 minute kiss with a guy???



I think girls are the most wonderful creatures on earth. loving a girl (and having her love you back) is the most wonderful experience on earth.

Anyways, I'd really like to see what girls think about guys.... lydia, tian ai or vicki please post a blog? :)


cheers,
kenneth

maybe it's a mistake to have a blog. it's really taking up quite a bit of time that could be (more wisely?) spent on studying and building models. but i can't help it. maybe it's an addiction. maybe i've found a true outlet for my feelings. maybe it's a passing whim.... but whatever it is, i can't stop!!! here i am at 3.34am, waiting for my architecture photos to print and ploughing through yet another blog!

kay sent me a long sms message today. it made me feel very warm and brought a smile to my lips as i stood in the middle of the fine arts library. i realized suddenly that among all my friends, she's the only one who can invoke such a surge of joy in me, that after all that has happened, one message from her can still take wipe away my two days worth of sleepless nights. why are things like that? maybe now is a good time to click the link for yongchuan's blog and read his posting on the same day.

i took out my guitar for the first time in a month and played a few of my songs. it felt wonderful. having a song of your own is like having a personal sculpture, or a painting, that you can carry around in your mind wherever you go. i write my songs with simple melodies that do not require a bulky piano or guitar as accompaniment. thus they follow me every step i take, and sooth my mind when storms are brewing. i really love to sing. perhaps my preoccupation with my lack of looks and physical stature has kept me far away from the stage, but when i sing to myself, or to the people dear to me, i feel like there's something i can give, that there's a piece of myself that i'm sharing with my friends.

one day i will cut an album, and it will be for all the people who have touched my life.

cheers,
kenneth

i was sanding a piece of wood when it suddenly slipped, causing me to apply a big stroke of the sandpaper on my own finger. after realising how uninjured my finger was, a thought occurred to me. the more stubborn we are, the more similar we are to the piece of wood. unable to bend, we keep feeling like we are compromising, like we are losing out to the rest and getting chipped away bit by bit every time a problem arises. but if we are flexible by nature, then just as the piece of skin is unharmed by the sanding, we too would be immune to quarrels and immune to nasty conflicts in opinion. will elaborate when i'm more awake. my english is surrendering to my sleepiness. nitez folks!

cheers,
kenneth

wrote this just before lunch.... it's for my architecture presentation tomorrow :) i think it's quite cute what do you guys think? please help me proofread ok!

Tower in the sky

I see a tower
Standing on its toes
In a field of tulips
It stands all alone

Spires in the clouds
But it yearns to know
What lies beyond
This land of gold

So taking a breath
It heaves its body whole
And for a brief eternity
Begins to know

That the endless horizon
Never ceases to grow
And that lack of compression
Is the death of stone

luke was just telling me after the cny dinner how different uni life is from jc life. we both agreed that jc life was much better than uni life, although when i was walking with him, i didn't really know why i said that. but sitting here in the comp lab in rand hall, i'm starting to think and it's starting to occur to me. when i was in jc, everything was really clear... perhaps it's because as an 18 yr old, i did not have many issues to be unclear about. perhaps it's because life was just about studying and playing vball, and going home to eat, and watching television. perhaps it's because i didn't have a gf, and i interacted with my friends infrequently enough not to know or really care what kind of people they are. perhaps it's because immediately after jc came ns, which didn't really require any planning for or any preparations.

it's different now though.... i am studying in a place where my neighbours are my schoolmates, where we talk/laugh/gossip/hide/avoid/observe during dinner everyday (in singapore dinner was just dinner), and return home to continue these interactions on msn and icq. everyone seems to be heading on their own paths, even those masses of people studying engineering have clear and often rather personalized goals in life. things matter more. people matter more. friends now become housemates in a few months time. relationships become a much more tangible issue.

but i think what's affecting me more is the fact that i don't know what i'm doing anymore. it's like a river is flowing past me, and i'm a little pebble that occasionally gets caught up in the current for a few seconds, but spends most of its time on the river bed. looking at all those people who ran for the SSA exco, i suddenly feel like i'm such a drifter, like i'm so out of things. i use my architecture workload as an excuse, but i think for the most part, it's just because i've lost some of my energy and my zest for life.

i hope this changes soon. i hope that in a while, i'll manage to turn into a fish and ride the currents.

thanks guys for all your well wishes. my mum should be fine, but this whole thing has made me realize something about myself that i'm not proud of. :( it's time i look at myself a little bit more.

I love you mum. I dunno if you will see this, but I just want to tell you I really appreciate everything you have done for me. Thank you for scolding me when i'm wrong, even though you know that i am stubborn and i get angry with you. Thank you for knowing what's right for me, and for leading me the right way. Thank you for listening to my troubles and knowing when to comfort me and when to leave me alone. Thank you for never hitting me. Thank you for packing my bags everyday in primary school, and for taking a bus all the way to Hill Street to fetch me home. Thank you for leaving all the nice food for me and mei mei and yang yang. Thank you for forgiving me so easily, even when i don't care about the family or i go far far astray. Thank you for all the hurt you silently accepted when i shouted at you. Thank you for sending me all these things in Cornell, and not caring about how much it costs. Thank you for saying hi to me everytime in ICQ when most of the time i'm too busy to reply. Thank you for worrying for me, even when i don't worry about you. Thank you for leading a simple life so that we can lead extraordinary ones. Thank you for loving us so much that you don't even care about yourself.

Mummy don't leave me.

I read sera's blog a few days ago.... and i think what she says is really true. sometimes, our disinclination towards a certain person is based on what others say, or on some irrelevant first impressions, but these cause us to miss out on otherwise enriching friendships. only after reading sera's paragraph did i realize that i've also grown closer to someone almost unconsciously, when some time ago i would never have imagined it happening. but for me, it's not just about hitting it off. it's about going into a personal level, sharing secrets, opinions, emotion and trust. maybe "soulmate" would be a little exaggerating, but then again i'm still trying to find out what "soulmate" actually means.

anyway, i wanna thank God for making my life so interesting. although it's so full of ups and downs.... (well maybe BECAUSE it's so full of ups and downs) it's, i feel, the bestest life in the world. i wouldn't trade it for anything else. i've gone through JC and army and half a year of uni being "labelled" as "Xtra" and "kennethyouareanidiotyouknow" and "hahahayahrightveryfunny" but i love my life. i hope that some of my enthusiasm can rub off on the people around me, and i hope that i make a different to the lives of the people around me. Even a little bit!

These days everyone seems to have issues. it kind of throws me off guard, cos suddenly the world seems to contain so much more uncertainty and tension. ouch.

cheers
kenneth

i was listening to "if it makes you happy" by sheryl crow when my subwoofer died on me, dragging my entire sound system with it. i am not really happy now. i feel like ranting about the failings of technology, except that i don't have time, for my unfinished homework beckons like a sultry temptress. well, more like a discipline mistress brandishing a metal ruler, but you get my drift. i will now push my luck and spend half an hour in the shower. after which, when the results of my procrastination strike me smack in the face, i will feel even sadder.

snowboarding in 2 days time!!! i love snowboarding. this time tianai will fall under my siege, and i will reign supreme as the King of Speed.

if i break my arms and legs this time, you can all laugh at me. :) CHOY.

cheers,
kenneth

feeling lazy still..... i'm in my computer lab and i don't want to go back to building my model! i think this valentines day thingy is make me rather distracted about things.... i used to treat valentines day as a kind of game, a novel occasion, back when i was single and everyone around me was just a friend. while others eagerly expected bouquets or panicked over presents, i drifted through this day like a happy little butterfly, flitting around the meadows and enjoying the company of my friends (mostly guys in secondary sch and mostly girls in jc :P).

now it's a little different though. since i got attached, valentines day has gained a new meaning, and although this valentines day is going to be, for me, slightly different from last year's, it has become very significant. thinking about it puts me through a slew of emotions, not exactly pleasant, but not exactly unhappy either. more of anticipation, with a slight dose of.... well i dunno.

when i drew that double heart in the snow last night, i remembered that if this happened last year, it would have contained two different footprints instead of one.

i hope someone finds love this valentines day. i hope someone plucks up enough courage to make someone else really happy and really touched. well, no matter what happens i will never be jaded about love. it's a magical thing. it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. it makes you heady with joy. it makes everything else matter a little less.

ok back to work :)


cheers,
kenneth

I was looking through this file where i keep all my stories, and i chanced upon this one that i wrote for kay, about a year ago. it's about having everything happen to you at once, about happiness mingling with tears, about that having that funny feeling in your stomach when someone holds your hand, and about losing all feeling. It's about having no one to turn to but yourself.

oh. valentines day is coming. i want flowers! no actually i want money, but flowers would do nicely too :)

cheers,
Kenneth

Loss

The fires may go on forever. Or they may fade with time, to become distant, fleeting images in the mind that I can forget if I try hard enough. The screams may go on forever, the desperate shouts that tear into the fabric of my heart like knife into butter, gripping me with pure, blind terror. Or they too, may dissolve and dissipate into the wind, finally ceasing to haunt me in my dreams.

But they would not go quietly, no.

We must have done something really evil for them to drop the Bombs at us like that. Three at a time, the explosions would shake the land, then fill the air with a horrible and strangely mesmerizing haze, of concrete and smoke and bones and tears and blood and shattered dreams. Pater would shake his fists at the Bombs, then shake his head and sigh, "An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A bomb for a bomb." Pater is gone now, his soul thrown into the unfeeling wind like those of so many others.

Like those of Sam, who would sit quietly on Pater's old swing, his beautiful legs dangling next to mine as we each fought the urge to speak. His skin would occasionally brush against mine, sending waves of childish happiness coursing through my veins. Yesterday morning he told me that I had beautiful eyes. I had run away from him giggling, my face hot and flushed with love and pride and months of pent up emotions. Today his cold grey feet can be seen peeking out from his mother's crumbling house, flattened overnight.

I stand beside the old swing, marvelling. Despite all that has happened it still stands proud and tall, defying our enemies and stubbornly shouting to all that would listen that life still goes on. I gently push it and feel its bolts creaking painfully. And I try to feel, to feel for our brave comrades stranded at the front. To feel for the lives lost, or destroyed, or forever altered. To feel for the people and faces behind the wails of despair floating across from the hills beyond.

But I cannot. I have lost my anger, my hate, my happiness, my love. I have lost my innocence and youth, and they will never come back.

it's raining today. i can't believe it! right in the middle of winter, right in the middle of ithaca, and it's raining. this is amazing.... but not as amazing as the brilliant sunrise i witnessed as i got up from my bed and looked out of the window. but here lies the tragedy.... my first thought was to grab my camera and take a picture. my second thought came about half an hour later, when i woke up again. turns out that in between getting out of my bed and reaching for the camera, i had lapsed into an unfortunate sleep and lost the chance to capture that wonderful moment and now all i can take a picture of is this sad, morose drizzle that doesn't seem to want to end.

life is so fleeting, so transient.

and sometimes people come into our lives, make a brief but deep impression, and then disappear, leaving us with the slow drizzle of routine and a smattering of memories.

this blog is written for Jazreel, from christmas, 5 years ago. :)


cheers,
kenneth

today i had a wonderful idea. i want to start another blog, and begin it by starting a story. and everyone who visits the site can read the story and add on to it, and we can all see where it goes! thought of this when i was in the shower (i shower for a bloody long time) and i was so proud of myself, until i found out from a few friends that this idea wasn't original at all.... sigh... well, at least i thought of it without anyone else's input, so i'm still pretty proud of myself. :) ok so look out for the next blogspot! any genre you guys prefer? love story? horror? (i doubt horror would be easy though) anyway some rules i can think of: the only language allowed is ENGLISH. NO FRENCH. and and, no tampering with other peoples' entries, cos the challenge is to continue the story with what you've got. and no one is to end the story without my permission. ok that's all for now, till next time!

cheers,
kenneth

why hurt people? why say things that upset others? i've listened to friends who have been snubbed, ridiculed, rejected, painfully criticised.... i've gone through lots of this too -- people making fun of my height, stabbing at my weaknesses.... and i can't say i've never done it either. when i was breaking up with kay, i said a lot of hurtful things to her. i questioned her integrity, i blamed her for betraying me and told her i would never love her again. yes, it made me feel vindicated, but not for a moment did i feel better about myself. i would lapse into hours of guilt and emotional discomfort, and yearn to hold her hand and apologise. yet why do i do it again and again? why can't i stop hurting someone who meant so much to me?

hmmm... well, this isn't a rhetorical qn.... i have no answers for myself, but i hope that whoever reads this can think about it, and maybe catch yourself before you let your words hurt another person again. especially if it's your friend. cos there isn't always time for us to apologize. there isn't always time to ask, "are you still angry with me?" or say, "i didn't really mean it that way," or even to make it up with a hug or a kiss. emotional scars take a long time to heal, and i don't know about you but it's much harder for me to forget a hurtful comment than a praise or encouragement.

so let's not let our words cut up someone else's heart anymore ok? doesn't work that way.

anyway, to all those people who tried skiing instead of snowboarding, well, you don't know what you are missing dudes..... i pity you people. hahahahahahaha.... snowboarding is SO fun!!! of course i almost broke my wrist and my back during my first lesson, but it's WORTH EVERY SINGLE CENT! and every single potentially broken bone. i will NEVER touch skis again. oh well, unless some cute girl asks me to, which is highly unlikely. till next time!

cheers,
kenneth

i used to write diaries, pretty sporadic ones. i have a few journal books with about ten pages written (each), and (when buying new books everytime inspiration struck finally seemed economically unviable) a few pieces of paper stowed deep in my drawers.

so now i really hope that despite my wonderful attention span, i can make this blog last for a substantial amount of time! :) trying to find a nice skin, cos nice skins make me want to write. someone please send me a nice skin.

anyway, just came back to cornell university after an arduous journey from singapore. thank you ithaca for greeting me with this fantastic (-18degreescelciuswhatthehellisgoingon) weather, just perfect for starting a new semester! well i hope this semester is better than the previous one, which was ravaged by a horrible breakup with my girlfriend (will write a treatise on long distance relationships another day), coupled by my less-than-enviable GPA. But I've survived to start another semester, proof of the rejuvenating powers of Mum's home cooked food and endless hours of Gunbound (everyone should play Gunbound).

Wrote a song back in Singapore about missed chances and taking things for granted. I do that a lot (taking things for granted). Well, since I have forgotten the last New Year's resolution I made, i'll create a new one. NO MORE TAKING THINGS FOR GRANTED. OR PEOPLE FOR THAT MATTER. ok i'm falling asleep... and my back is hurting, so enuff for today! yay i started a blog!

cheers,
canuf