Saturday, May 08, 2004
Recovering my Past #3: May 2004
Wish me luck.
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Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Were you there from the start | |
HAVE A CLEANING PERSON COME IN AS OFTEN AS YOU CAN AFFORD Essentially this means: if you can afford to live in comfort, then go ahead. Why do your own laundry if you can afford not to? Coz face it, if you are able to be happily independent and content with your life, then you don't really need all this advice. But then again on the other hand if you do need this advice, chances are you'll need to do your own cleaning. Oh well. ********************************************************* ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND This phrase is taken from the poem "Eloisa To Abelard" by Alexander Pope, which goes: "How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot. It is also the title of the movie which I watched today. Which I will get to soon enough. Met Ros for the lunch and movie today. I find it interesting how you can meet someone you have never met in person before, and how it feels like you know a lot about tt someone you have never yet seen from the way the person has been writing. But she's every bit what I'd expect from reading her blog; sweet, patient, thoughtful... It's interesting how you tend to meet people who are like you yet different from you (okay, this is a natural recurring phenomenon but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN RIGHT???). How we can gel on certain travel preferences like scenery, culture, and maybe a little adventure, to our tastes in food, to certain life experiences like muahaha OBS. Or how she feels about things like races vs. how (stressed) I feel towards them. Anyway we had lunch at Scott's and I tried tt xiao3 guo1 mian4 noodles tt I'd always wanted to try, and my verdict is tt the one at Raffles City Food Junction beats it hands-down. The xiao3 guo1 mian4 at Scotts doesn't have any chilli, has way too much vinegar, and the soup is not salty - as in no taste lah. But enough griping. We went window-shopping after tt, just walked down from Scotts to the Heeren and Cineleisure and back. Didn't buy anything; just looked. Was tempted to buy either The Rasmus' 'Dead Letters' or Switchfoot's 'The Beautiful Letdown' albums, but was thinking about the already enormous hole in my pocket. Oh, while walking back, bought a slurpee from the 7-11 kiosk outside Ngee Ann City. The slurpee deserves a mention - it's JUST RIGHT. Not too cold tt you end up sucking up all the syrup and leaving the ice, yet not too watery to be slushy. And the Big Gulp machine plays 50 Cent's 'If I Can't' while dispensing Coke. Okay, so on to the good stuff. The movie. Where do I start? I never even heard of this movie before my cousin Jo pointed it out to me last week. But it's amazing how many big names you have on this vehicle: Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst and Elijah Wood. It's an indication of the kind of quality the script (or at least the direction) has got to be of. But if you loved Jeux d'Enfants the way I adored it, you will love this movie. It's darkly romantic, bittersweet and has both comedic as well as tragic elements in it. The premise is essentially about this guy who, after hearing tt his girlfriend has undergone some scientific procedure (which exists in this movie) to have him erased from her mind after they break up, decides to do the same thing. But as the procedure of erasing is undergone, the said guy has to relive his memories as they are being removed from his brain, from the latest to the earliest. Of course the first few memories erased are those of the latest ones he's had, when the relationship is souring and there are squabbles and fights and ugly words exchanged, but as the process goes on and we go backwards into the relationship we (as the guy) sees the OTHER times, the happy times, the times where there is love and romance and when the guy actually says, in one single scene where he is lying side-by-side with the girl on the snow, looking up at the sky while doing absolutely nothing, with this look of utter bliss on his face: "I could die right now, Clem. I'm just... happy. I've never felt that before. I'm just exactly where I want to be." And the truth is you, as the audience, you feel it. Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet are fantastic actors. Carrey has always been impressive in using his eyes and facial expressions to emote, while Kate Winslet is very capable of making us believe and love or hate the characters she plays. And in this movie there is just so much chemistry. You just feel with and for them. Even if you're reading this now and you think there's no point watching the movie coz you know the plot, I'll tell you straight out, don't cheat yourself. Reading the lines off a page isn't at all the same as watching the movie for yourself, being immersed scene-for-scene, enthralled in the moments of sheer absurdity or hilarity or even downright tragedy, in the relationship between Joel Barish and Clementine Kruczynski. Is there a moral to the story? Is it as the article in Life! had intepreted it? That it is better to have love and lost than never to have loved at all? That I cannot answer for you. Because if you've never loved before, how will you miss the feeling? How will you miss the experience? Sure, you will long for it, you will wish for it, and it may haunt you, but to be honest to me the worst feeling in the world is to have been there and to have had it all, and then to have lost it and come back empty. But tt's irrelevant to the movie of course - just my own personal opinion. But anyway of course, the guy realises as the memories are erased tt he wants to keep them. He asks to keep just one, then he tries to call the process off, but he realises tt it's not possible. He then tries to hide the girl in parts of his memories where she cannot be erased from, but even this fails. And at the final moment at the final memory he gives up, resigned, and opts to enjoy the final shared moment with her, with a proper goodbye. However, the movie seems to hint tt love is more than just about brain waves. Memories. Joel and Clementine find their way back to each other again by pure impulse, by something hard-wired into their brains tt just could not be erased. It sort of reminds me of the scene from 50 First Dates where Lucy was showing Henry a studio full of paintings of him - whom she had never had any memory of meeting but saw every night in her dreams. Is it true then, that love always finds a way? That no matter how long it takes, how far you are from each other, how many barriers there are in your course, from other relationships to marriages to parental objections to hell, maybe even jail terms; as long as you know tt there is something mutual between the both of you, this 'something' will always manifest? Hmm... Now, let's take it to an even DEEPER level. By deeper I'm not talking about love anymore - or rather I'm not focusing on love anymore, but this time, the brain. The way the whole memory-erasing thing works in the movie, is that this scanning device tt destroys brain activity in the brain where emotional activity from the memories to be destroyed is detected. It is akin to "brain damage", but as the good doctor says, is nothing more than another night out with too much alcohol - "nothing you'll miss." My question is this, you take Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, you take George Orwell's 1984, and you tell me, what is truth? What is truth, what is reality, if everything we believe to be true is only because they exist in our memories? Therefore if we have no recollection of them, does tt mean they never happened? If no one survived after World War II and there was no evidence of its occurence, does it mean it never even existed? Is everything just a manifestation of our brain's work then? Anthony Robbins was writing about neuro-associative conditioning in one of the chapters of his book, whereby you could interrupt a pattern so as to change the way you view and feel about something. How this works is that you can take an unhappy event, like a break-up, play it in your head like a movie from front to back in real-time, with all the details thrown in, and you will find that you will feel the emotions of pain and guilt and anger as surely as if the whole break-up was happening all over again. And in fact, as he says, that is how we make ourselves unhappy, how we make ourselves depressed and how we remain in this depressed unhappy unable-to-get-over-ourselves states. Because we cannot stop replaying the unpleasant memories and reliving them over and over and over again. So he says, "Stop that". Break the cycle. In your mind, play the whole break-up scene back to front. Watch the words from the other party's mouth distort. Play it sideways, upside down. Add multi-colours. Hell, give tt guy Mickey-Mouse ears while you're at it and play a circus tune. After repeating this pattern 6 to 7 times you'll feel very different about the whole break-up scene. You may be unaffected. Who knows, you may even find it funny. Well, it happened. You didn't change tt. But you conditioned yourself into reacting to it differently. It's different from what the erasure of memories is of course, but once again it is something tt the brain has done to change the way you look at things. Reality has not changed, but the way you see it has. Sometimes it makes it difficult to say where exactly to draw the line, doesn't it? It's a powerful tool to have, memory-erasure, hypnosis. Both could be used for good or for ill, and we've already got many books and movies prophesying the kind of apocalyptic outcomes tt can arise from such extreme and widespread uses. A lot of these literature have the same moral: don't mess with the human psyche. Because the human psyche is a more powerful tool than we give it credit for. Much more. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. That raises 1 more, just 1 more question. Is a spotless mind always eternally shiny? When you have nothing in your mind, when you have no memories, will you be happy? I raise up once again the moral of "It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." There is a problem with this moral in this society. IT WILL NOT WORK. From the moment we are born ;love' is the first word we are introduced to. We are immersed in this culture "love. love is all around. love one another. fall in love" from fairy tales like Cinderella and Snow White to all those romantic sentimental songs on the radio to the shows on TV to the whole societal culture around us. Face it, we've been pressured to fall in love ever since. So how can our minds ever be truly spotless if they have already been 'tainted' with the concept of love? Never to have loved at all? Means we've never experienced romantic love ourselves, but we're already more than familar with the concept, thank you very much. The only true way for this whole thign to work is to put us on a deserted island from the moment we are born, never introduce us to another human being or to any of the popular culture tt more than permeates society now, and let's see where we go from there. Now tt, I foresee an eternal sunshine for me. | |
Fuck with me once, shame on you. Fuck with me twice, shame on me. | |
USE ALL AVAILABLE RESOURCES What this means: if you're sick, see a doctor. If you need food, by all means go to a restaurant. If you need a dye job, go to a salon. And for goodness sake if you're depressed and on the brink of suicide see a freaking psychiatrist. It's exactly what the title says. If you have the resources at your disposal and the means to use them, then DO SO. Don't be an idiot. You can't do everything yourself. Trying to fix your plumbing to save yourself $50 might result in you spending $500 more. Oh, and while friends and family are great for calling out, meeting up with and having great 'girls' nights out' with etc, they are NOT your personal psychologists nor your friendly neighbourhood movers etc. ********************************************************* MEETING THE KALLANG BASIN HEAD-ON Today was my water time trial. Fortunately my fever dissipated last night after my 2nd round of Panadol so I had not much problems going for training today. But the fever is back tonight. The first reason is because of the weather. Go to Kallang - it's sunny. 10 minutes later it starts to drizzle, all while the sun is still shining. Convectional rain conveCtional rain with a 'c'. NOT conventional rain dearie. The rain stops. Sunny again. And then it starts raining again, this time heavier. Then the rain stops and THEN it pours and you can't do a single freaking thing about it because like it or not a time trial is a time trial gyaaah!!! So I get caught in the rain-the sun-the rain-the sun, and my wonderful nose starts running again (come back here). Oh, but before I go on to more of tt, just wanted to say that after a month (or 2) long hiatus, I finally saw sun-tattoo eye-candy-from-the-back guy again. Although this time I very firmly believe tt it's a DIFFERENT guy because there's NO WAY he could have shrunk so much!!! This sun tattoo guy is SCRAWNY. I'm serious. He's really thin - a lot thinner than me, and his arms are like sticks. And I'm like tt's strange. This isn't right. The tattoo looks TOO BIG for you! Where are your rippling back muscles? Your bulging biceps? Why are you scrawny??? Uh. Well, but at least Melissa says I can move on now. Besides, sun-tattoo guy has ALREADY been overridden. By the 'model'. The one who sits on the ledge looking out to sea like he's posing for the cover of a magazine. Muahaha. He's here to torture me I swear whenever I see him I lose all my senses and become a freaking bImBo aaaaarrrrrrgggghhhhh!!!! Help! But anyway while waiting for the coach to arrive for the time trial thingy I did get to sit in the boat with Melissa very nice and strategically-placed to get a good view of the scenery. Oh well. Anyway we had our time trial on the other side of the Kallang Basin where the condos were. Essentially, a time trial consists of you rowing a boat by yourself for a distance of 300m as fast as you can. While you row your boat (with 2 or 3 other people depending on how many other boats we bring out), the rest of the people not trialling wait for you, cheer for you, time and eat energy-giving snakcs like choc chip bread and bananas on the ledges where the condos are. In order to get to these ldges we climb up tyres, which we tie by ropes to the railings. And yes, it can be scary climbing from boat to ledge using 2 tyres and rope, especially when the tide is very low, like today. Anyway the coach was ONE HOUR LATE!!! And the rain-sun-rain thing was still going on and on. I was watching this guy try to kill the snake, first by banging it against the ground repeatedly, then by trying to cut its head off with a pair of scissors (both methods unsuccessful), and I was so freaked out! There are snakes in the water! The rumours were true! ARGH!!! And to think, if you wanted to go to the toilet you'd have to do it in the water. Can you imagine what could possibly be swimming around you as you did it? What if something slimy brushed against your leg? How would you know if it was just a fish? And not a SNAKE? Or a cockroach or something eeeewwwwww.......!!! Anyway the sun-rain-sun-rain thing progressed to a rain-all-the-way thing with wind thrown in, so it was pretty bloody cold. My nose was literally like a tap now, and I had so much phlegm in my mouth I couldn't say anything coz there was no telling what would come out eeewww.... When it was my turn to go down, I wasn't feeling all tt ready anymore. For one thing, the so-called warm-up rowing was all wasted coz of the weather... I wasn't even un-warmed up, I wasn't just cooled-down, I was COLD!!! And by dose wuz so blogged I cood barely breave, led alone row broberly!!! Bah. I was trying my best, pulling as long strokes as I could, consciously reminding myself to POINT, TWIST FORWARD, PULL BACK etc, but for some reason I didn't have the energy to pull fast in the water. My strokes were draggy. I was pulling as hard as I could but as Boon Chin was telling me, I was dragging. I could see Geok Wei pulling away from me as I was pushing as hard as I could, but I had as much problems breathing and all I wanted to do was cough. And then the ultimate. After the trial we were supposed to get back onto the ledge by climbing up the two tyres. Geok Wei was climbing up first so I stood at the head of the boat under the first tyre to stabalise it so that she could climb up. But then the head of the boat started drifting away from the wall. Note that my palms were both planted on the wall and my feet were in the boat. Such tt at first I was looking up at Geok Wei, then at the wall. And I started thinking 'uh-oh' as my feet started moving away from my hands. And saying 'uh-oh' as they continued moving. And I thought the coxswain of the boat would somehow steer the boat back right, but as the boat moved further and further away and soon all I was looking at was the Kallang Basin as the angle of my body went past 90 degrees and I started going "Argh! Argh! Arrrr-!'...-- You got it. I met the murky waters of the Kallang Basin head-on. It was more like 'glub glub glub' from then on. I was in this state of panic. You have to understand tt I'd just completed my time trial and I was winded. As in dead fucking cannot move another inch winded. All I wanted to do was sit down somewhere and stone. Not flounder off in murky waters where I would very ordinarily NOT want to be in (* - scroll to bottom of entry for details -) and would especially now NOT want to be in BECAUSE THERE ARE FUCKING SNAKES IN THE WATER!!!!!!!!!!! The coxswain steered the boat back a little too late coz my head almost ended up crushed between the wall and the boat, but I think I was too panicked about trying to get the hell out of the snake-infested water to think about my head getting crushed. And then I tried to get my foot up out of the water but it didn't work coz I was too heavy to be pulled into the boat, so I had to fall back into the yucky water and push myself out again. Let me tell you by the time I finally got onto the ledge I was half-dead. And cold. Bloody fucking cold. It was raining heavily and the wind was blowing damn strong. And I was as wet as a drowned rat. Plus I had very nicely managed to graze myself on my elbow and knee on the barnacles in the water so there was blood too. Yippee. Yunshan was like "Why don't you run back to the other side where there are more people and it's warmer?" I was already proceeding to the other side, but run? Haha. No way. I'm dog tired, I'm so disoriented tt I can barely walk a straight line, and 1 wrong step will cause me to FALL INTO THE KALLANG WATERS again where this time there will be no boat to save me from the giant python lurking in the murkey depths!!! No way. I was shivering for the rest of the training. Which ended close to 5 meaning tt I was going to be LATE FOR MASS AT 6PM IN CLEMENTI. Stress man. I took a hurried shower and tried to catch a cab. Now let's paint a scenario where you're outside the National Stadium when there are no events going on, Nicoll Highway is closed, and it's raining. What are the chances of any empty cabs coming by? Let's be realistic here. Say... ZERO. Okay, maybe 0.5%. So after my shower, I, wrapped in my bath towel over clothes even tho tt looks damn orrrbit because it's so bloody cold and rainy, run over to the 16 Bustop, where I realise tt I'm fighting with 2 different people who are also waiting (and it seems for a long time) for empty cabs. So here I am praying to God. And I'm serious. I'm like (in my head): "God, it's 5.40pm. I need to be in church by 6pm. Please God please send me a cab to get me there by 6pm. You know you don't want me to be late to praise you too right? So please please please send me a cab so I can be in time to hear Your word and praise you." And lo and behold 5 minutes later a cab bound for Jurong East (meaning tt both of the other 2 people can't take it) drives by. At first the driver is like "Where do you want to go? How do you want to get there? How can I get there?", and I'm thinking dammit can you at least DRIVE while you're asking me these questions because I'm late and we're supposed to get from the East to the West... but then at the junction turning out from AYE to Clementi he suddenly achieves this moment of clarity and he goes "Ohhhhh.... Ni3 shi4 shuo1 na4 ge4 Avenue One de4 jiao4 tang2 shi4 ma1? (Ohhhh. You mean that church at Ave 1?)" I get to church 5 minutes before the mass starts. I swear sometimes God really answers crazy prayers. But anyway church was FREEZING. I swear I was freezing my butt off and trying not to sneeze/cough/spray mucus while mass was going on. And I literally didn't stop shivering from the time I fell into the water all the way till now even though I was wearing my jacket. Speaking of which, during the offeratory the priest goes "Pray, my brothers and sisters, that You will accept the sacrifice at Your hands..." and then this woman behind me echoed the response in a nasal voice (and I mean REALLY nasal like Fran drescher in The Nanny - think pinching your nostrils shut and speaking kind of nasal) and the only thing I could think of was "Pray, my brothers and sisters, that You will prevent me from laughing out loud..." I KNOW I shouldn't laugh at people's idiosyncracies (they can't HELP it!) but bwahahahahahaha....!!! But anyway my father picked me up from church and brought me home for dinner. Where yes, I found out that I AM sick again. My fever has come back. Bah. I really hope it goes before my next training on Tuesday. Damn.
Note: I've just learnt belatedly that my 'model' has a tendency to fall into the waters of the Kallang Basin as well. Hmm. (*) For the uninitiated, the reason as to why the Kallang Basin is NOT a water body any sane person would want to be physically in is this: no one knows what lurks in the murky depths of the Kallang Basin. However, you might get an idea by what floats on the SURFACE of the Kallang Basin. Plastic bags, plastic cups, aluminium cans, styrofoam boxes, rafia string, dead leaves and twigs, other non-biodegradable waste material, the occasional dead fishes and the even-more-rare half-eaten (or half-rotted away) dead fish, dead/struggling cockroaches and dead/struggling rats. There is usually a film of oil on the water where the boats pass; this may spread out to a layer covering most of the Basin on occasion (don't know what), and this is when the smell of the oil becomes overpowering and causes headaches, dizziness and nausea. And yes, oil does get splashed into faces of people who row into such parts of the water. | |
SAVE YOURSELF What this means is simply this: save yourself. Don't depend on others. Face it, if you're in a weak, depressed, boo-hoo-hoo poor me state, do something about it! Don't wallow in misery and dream of some knight in shining armour to rescue you from your own devices, because it doesn't work tt way. Men don't want women with baggage. Face it, *I* wouldn't want anyone with baggage either. Friends are there when you need them, but don't use them as emotional crutches. Don't use the people around you as emotional crutches, because if you're not going to help yourself back onto your feet, no one else will. ********************************************************** I HAVE SUCCUMBED *musical tune* Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Sorry, cheesy line. Moment of enlightenment. Yes ladies and gentlemen, the great Izzy Tan has succummbed. Yesterday, my predictions came true. For all the barley water I guzzled down like a camel, I came down with a fever in the afternoon (finally explains why the aches were so unbearable and I was unreasonably fatigued). Took Panadols at regular intervals to bring the fever down and yes, against the better advice of a few friends (and my none-too-happy parents), I went for training this morning. I was supposed to take it easy for training (in fact if not for my time trial tomorrow I probably wouldn't even want to go), but bah. I don't think it was easy after all. Admittedly training was lighter than usual, but I still went as far out as I could. And on a separate note I think I'm on my way to being able to do unassisted pull-ups - apparently my back muscles are 'about the right size', although tt certainly doesn't bode well for me. When I came back home today I got hit with another fever. Took another 2 Panadol, but since my mom was entertaining tonight I didn't have a chance to rest. Had to help prepare the dinner, set the table, vaccuum + pack the area, and now while the guests are *still* downstairs chit-chatting I'm taking a rest before helping my parents clean up. Hopefully my fever won't come back again. Now I'm beginning to worry. Note: I don't forget birthdays easily. Why should it seem so surprising tt I would remember yours? *sigh* You give me too little credit. :( | |
Friday, May 28, 2004
HAVE PETS This is for 3 reasons. Firstly, pets are therapeutic. They shower you with love and affection (and gratitude) that is UNCONDITIONAL, and well, with pets you don't really need a man. Muahaha. Secondly, they teach you how to love. How to be affectionate, how to care. And that's always a good thing. Thirdly, by being able to take care of your pet, you prove tt you're not a screw-up yourself. After all, considering the kind of sacrifices you have to make to come home in time to bathe your pet, feed it and shower it with a affection, it helps you decide what kind of activities are more important for your life. But of course, don't go out and get a pet immediately. You have to be READy to have one and not throw it away. You have to decide what pet is suitable for your lifestyle. If you have a lot of free time, a dog is good, but if you have to work or study, are away frome more often, then maybe you should try a cat, which is more independent. Or if both fails, get a freaking hamster or fish. Muahaha. ************************************************************* HOME-MADE BARLEY Fuck. My predictions were right. I'm falling sick. My nose alternates between blocked and runny, I have a sore throat that irritates the living hell out of me, and I swear I'm going to develop a cough from all that phelgm soon. Yes yes, ranting is unhealthy and becoming, but considering the way I feel now - achy muscles and all such that I'm moving around like an old woman with arthritis GAAAH!!! - I'm entitled. Okay?! Anyway I'm home alone coz my maid's out somewhere or other, and apparently I'm supposed to stay home to let her into the house. Finally sick and irritated abt the way I'm feeling, I brewed my own barley water this morning. Okay, so it's no big feat, especially since all you have to do is add barley seeds, water, rock sugar, and bring to a boil on a slow fire. Simple no? But then again I'm someone who doesn't cook, period. Hell, I've never even boiled barley water my whole life. So the fact tt it comes out tasting pretty good - the barley seeds are cooked but not overdone such tt they're starchy and falling apart; the 2 pieces of rock sugar made the water JUST sweet enough but not TOO sweet, and the water is not too thick - just the right texture, makes me think I'm not such a failure in the kitchen after all. Muahaha. Later if my maid doesn't come back in time I think I'll fry my own rice too. I've found some leftover rice from last night, eggs, soy sauce and I'm sure I can dig out the luncheon meat and mixed diced vegetables when I look for them. In the meantime before I watch tt long-overdue movie Pulp Fiction tt I downloaded onto my comp, I'll be blog-happy to the sounds of AFI and Semisonic. Happy reflective time! Yay. Last night before catching American Idol - damn Fantasia won! By 1%! I pref Diana... Oh well... but anyway. - I was blog-surfing as usual (yes, if you have a blog I have probably read it. Unless it's private or something. I've already confessed tt I'm an unashamed believer of vicarious living anyway), and on someone's blog I read something on competitive sport vs. sports for health. Competitive sport, according to him "runs the risk of over-exertion with consequent musculoskeletal problems (dislocations, muscle tears, stress fractures, to name a few)." Whereas sports for health at a "reasonable intensity boosts the immune system and (for men) raises testosterone levels. Exercising to exhaustion (competitive sportspeople are prone to) depresses the immune system and prolongs depression of testosterone levels from other causes (eg alcohol)". He wrote a pretty long entry on this subject, and while I won't delve into the rest of that entry, I have to say that I agree wholeheartedly. Sometimes it just comes to this divide that separates sport for benefit from sacrifice for sport. At what point is enough enough? People in elite forces run till they need to have knee replacement surgeries in their 30s and 40s; we have various competitive sportsmen with various sports injuries from torn ligaments to broken-out-of-shape bones which will plague them for years, decades to come. The question is, is it worth it? Sometimes I look at what my body has become. When will I get skin cancer? When I'm 50, or when I'm 40? Or even earlier? The size of my muscles are freaking me out now. I'm dealing with aches and pains, and yesterday I felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder joint when I pressed down too hard. Maybe I didn't dislocate it now, but who knows when I will? Is it worth it? He doesn't think so. Well, he doesn't say it straight out. He says we should do the math for ourselves. But then again he's in a competitive sport too. We all have friends in competitive sport. But is that one moment of glory worthy of an entire lifetime of pain? It's like a modern day decision that was made over ten thousand years ago on Troy. When Achilles chose to have his moment of glory - his name immortalised in the history books forever - even though it meant death, over a longer lifetime of peace, of falling in love, raising a family and finding happiness. Why? Sometimes it's a positive identity - someone who heads a World AIDS Movement, who volunteers for trips to Bhutan and Cambodia and Vietnam and other 3rd World countries where the peopl have less than we do. Why? To 'grow'? Or to make an impact? To be remembered and talked about by all these people long after you leave them? Sometimes it's not. Hitler has never been used as a positive example - but let's face it, people admire him. His charm and charisma, his belief and his ability to get a whole nation to obey him, a lowly solider, fight for him, and win for him. Or maybe Marilyn Manson. Whether he's a positive influence or not on the so-called young and impressionable is dubious. Is he really satanic? Or is he just like anyone of us underneath that face paint, red lips and decadent lifestyle? But let's face it, you WILL know him by his glass eye and the amount of infamy surrounding his image. It doesn't even have to be celebrities. It could be your ex-classmate in school who kept going in and out of detention centres for offences ranging from theft to drugs to even rape. Or it could be tt guy whom everyone just labels weird because he's just so different. This search for identity is there within each of us. Everyone of us wants to carve some kind of name for ourselves. Everyone of us thinks we're different in some way or other. The way we want to represent ourselves to the people around us, it's all about being unique. I didn't want to be a 'normal girl'. I didn't want to opt for the slim and pretty with the long-rebonded hair route. I didn't want to opt for the good girl, wants her prince charming to ride her off on his black horse, cooks and cleans and is the perfect wife and mother route. Because I wanted to be different. I wanted to be the strong one, the girl who is neither slim and pretty nor has long-rebonded hair, would rather dragonboat and taekwondo and drink and dance till I collapse, and be self-sufficient and independent and break all the stigmas. That's the person I want to be, and manifesting this side of myself on my blog is all part of it. I wouldn't say that it's far from the truth, but I would like to say tt I'm not entirely like what I want to be Mich commented tt the secret blog I used to have was more worth reading than this one because it was more 'real'. It wasn't about what I wanted to be, but who I was. The one with the bouts of insecurity and depression and down moments. The one who occasionally wanted a hug and someone to tell me things would be ok, even though I would never say it. Reality bites. I remember watching this show 'Popular' that was axed after 2 seasons, altho I didn't know why coz I liked it. I really admired and wanted to be the character played by Carly Pope, even tho she was neurotic and a contradiction at times. But there was a line tt really struck me from the show and it was this: "You are unique. Just like everybody else." As much as we'd like to believe it, we are not that unique or that different. The things we do do not represent who we are. All of us go through the same experiences in life. So maybe some of us have problems fitting in with some groups of people as compared to others, but there will always be people like us. Let's face it, the reason why we have groups of friends, is because we click with people like ourselves in some way or other. If there is 1 thing I have to say today, it is this: Choose happiness or greatness. Happy people are people easily content with themselves and with life, no matter how ordinary or normal they seem. Great people are people who don't choose to settle, who are always searching for something more, fighting for something greater, and as a result are never happy with who they are, nor do they ever really fit in with a lot of people. Vincent van Gogh. Mozart. These were great people. But they were not happy people. | |
BE GORGEOUS This is the next piece of advice from Wurtzel. It acknowledges tt not everyone can be a Gisele or a Heidi or even tt sexy girl whom you just HATE coz she gets all the attention and you think life is so fucking unfair, but it also says tt you don't have to say "Okay, I look plain and ugly. So be it. I'm not going to care abt my looks anymore." It doesn't encourage vanity or narcissism, but says tt you should try to look presentable at all times. Just because you don't look like a supermodel doesn't mean you should relegate yourself to 21st century cavewoman. Take care of your face; slap on some mascara and/or lipstick, comb your hair. Don't look dowdy. It's good for your image and therefore, your own confidence and self-esteem. Plus you'll never know who you might meet. However, plastic/cosmetic surgery is not recommended. Coz you should be happy with how you look and accept yourself for who you are. But of course if you think tt's all tt can make you happy then by all means no one is stopping you. But be confident. When you FEEL gorgeous, you will have the confidence to be attractive, whether you look like a supermodel or not. ********************************************************** 2 MOVIES IN 2 DAYS Ugh. Just came back from watching Troy with the parents. Exactly what the title says. Feels a bit like overkill, especially since I'm so worn out already from training. On SHREK 2: Ooh. I know a lot of people have said tt Shrek 2 isn't as good or as funny as the original. While it is true that I do prefer the original, I think my laughing throughout the ENTIRE movie (I'm serious here) sort of shows what I think about it. I love Shrek. The original is one of my all-time fave movies; I've watched it 7 times already. And I like Shrek 2. It's utterly hilarious. I love the pot-shots they take at establishment and pop culture. Although admittedly I did mistake the sign 'Farbucks' for something else. Oh, and Puss in Boots was my fave character. I loved the 'big eyes' act SO CUTE!!!!! And my fave line from that movie "For you baby, I could be." Dammit I've been practising tt line with tt accent ever since! Ugh. And Charming is such a wuss. And Pinochio was hilarious too. "Are you wearing ladies' underwear?" "No I'm not!" And his nose lengthens. "Yes you are!" "No I'm not!" And it lengthens again. And then "It's a red lacy thong!!!" Arhahahaha. On TROY: Aka 'Brad and Bana Leave Me Battered'. That's how I currently feel. If Troy is one thing, it is realistic. Hell, it's so realistic and so fucking big and overwhelming that I feel like I was *there*. Right in the middle of battle. Running with the soliders, slashing, blocking, slashing; MORE running. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but with my ahchy-breaky muscles from training and a general sense of fatigue, I could have damn well have been one of the Grecians brandishing my sword and chopping at Trojans. Anyway as mentioned earlier, I watched it with the parents Generally was supposed to watch it with the Dad as agreed (I made a bet with him tt Brad Pitt was a hot enough reason to watch Troy - he thinks Eric Bana is more handsome tho. But we both agree that Diane Kruger wouldn't launch 10 ships and he thinks the priestess woman is sexy.), but we decided to have the Mom tag along. Well, she doesn't like the movie. She thinks it's senseless; fighting fighting and more fighting. But then again considering my mom is the kind of person who can NEVER last thru a movie without nodding off, the fact that she stayed awake throughout the entire movie says it CAN'T be as bad as she says it is. Although admittedly, my parents haven't gone to a cinema to catch a movie since... I don't know... when they were DATING in the '60s or something, coz they keep forgetting that they are watching a movie in a place full of other people. My dad has a tendency to give unasked for explanations (most of which are inaccurate) about the history of Troy. And he got a little TOO excited when Paris shot Achilles' heel with the arrow ("Achilles' heel, remember" And he repeats this about 3 times in succession to my mom, who gives absolutely no response). And my mom has a habit of voicing out her opinions while watching the movie. How did I know what she felt about the movie? Battle scene 2 (or was it 3, or was it BOTH?): "Nothing but fight and fight and fight. What a senseless show." Battle scene 4: "Waste so much money, come here to watch people fight and fight only. That's all they do in the movie, fight and fight." Okay, admittedly she has a point.That's why I feel so battered now. Fight scene after fight scene. Okay, in the beginning it was impressive - the 1000 ships (wrongly) launched for Helen of Troy. The line-up of soldiers from both armies stretching out across the lands. But as historically-correct as all this fighting is, let's face it, too many of such scenes just desensitizes you. You go from "OOH!!!" to "Ooh!" to "Oh" to "ANOTHER 'epic' battle?". Not that I didn't enjoy the movie. I enjoy the little sparks of humanity in between. I had been looking for more quotable quotes other than "Immortality! Take it, it's yours!" because that's all everyone who's watched Troy has been parroting to me all week. But after watching it for myself, I realise that that IS the most quotable quote after all. Not that I'm mocking the actors for having to spout those huge pretentious lines about "honour" and "glory" and having their names written in history for a thousand years, but while I have a huge thing for all this honour stuff (I admit I work on a code of honour myself - shut up abt it already), the MTV generation product with the short attention span in me finds the whole conversational bits rather... amusing. Not the effect they want to achieve, right? But anyway my fave part of the movie is undeniably, the reason I went to watch it - Brad Pitt. At 40 he still looks good, even with the messy hair and crow's feet. Buff, bronzed and with the aura of this majestic lazy lion (I'm serious abt this; laugh all you want!), he's a pleasure to watch. Unfortunately I thought his acting was a little stiff; the actor I admire for acting is Eric Bana; his eyes are hugely expressive and convey the kind of emotions you want to see in Hector. As for Orlando Bloom - I think the guy's a pansy. As is his character Paris. And at the end WTF he kills Achilles by shooting him down with arrows??? And you THINK tt's supposed to be bravery and courage??? WTF??? Yep, so that's Troy for you. Excuse me while I try to move my stiff and achy muscles now. ********************************************************** ACHY-BREAKY MUSCLES All I really want now is a massage. I don't even need full-body; someone just DO SOMETHING about my neck, back and shoulders. Ngah!!! But they're really killing me. Yesterday I went to have lunch and watch Shrek 2 with my cousins Jo and Dee. It's always a laugh-a-minute experience with the both of them; we had Mos Burger, me Long John Silvers after tt coz I was STILL hungry, Starfu--... uh, I mean Starbucks Caramel Coffee Jelly, and Ya Kun Kaya Toast. Yummy eggs, all wet and runny. And Jo and I came to an agreement tt almost everyone has a secret life - a side to them tt no one knows abt. The more repressed you are, the more scandalous tt secret life probably is. And Singaporeans, as we have come to agree, are a very repressed people. Who knows? Maybe half the men walking around Orchard MRT wear women's underwear. Maybe red and lacy thongs. :) Speaking of which, Far East Level 1 has a shop selling this red thong G-string with the word 'Sexy' emblazoned on the front. Am tempted to buy it... and give it to another one of my guy friends. But after tt it was off to Taekwondo training. Okay, it wasn't tiring. One year without practice has taken its toil on me. All my kicks are problematic. ARGH!!! I spent the whole 1 and a half hours trying to perfect 1 lousy kick - my back thrust. I have a damn nice back hook - it's my best kick. But my back thrust is really lousy. And tt was all I was doing with the bloody punching bag - back thrust. Off. FUCK! Back thrust again. No power. FUCK! Back thrust AGAIN. Turned too much. ARGH!!! The killer training is of course, dragonboat. I think I'm getting better. Admittedly in terms of stamina I'm a little lacking, but I think my strokes are good. But WAH LAU, my muscles ache like fuck now. My lats, my shoulder and upper-back muscles... Sore like HELL. I ALWAYS end up crashing on my bed after training... And my captain's not happy with me coz I was late yet again. Argh. My dad always volunteers to send me to training, but THEN he ALWAYS wakes up late, I get there fucking late and then my captain gets really pissed with me. Damn fucking irritating. I HATE it when my teammates have to take my punishments for me... And my dad thinks driving into the compound in his BMW will help matters... uh, NO? Argh. Just gotta rant. TT's it man. I'm taking a fucking BUS from now on. Hmm... guess tt's it for now... Oh well. The post is already long enough anyway. *shrug* Ugh... my poor poor muscles. | |
HAVE OPINIONS Don't say "I don't know". Be in the know. Know about current affairs, about things tt should matter in the world around you. Why? It's not just about being able to sustain conversations with all kinds of people you meet at cocktail parties or elsewhere. It's more than just about looking sexy to the people you want to attract. It's about being open-minded, about being interesting. Besides, in light of our always wanting to be true to ourselves, as taken off another blog: "You can’t be true to something you don’t know." *********************************************************** Ugh. My 2nd entry in 1 night. And as Samuel and William already tell me, the length of my blog entries always win hands down. Nonetheless I just wanted to say a few more things tonight. Firstly, as Mich says, confirming my belief, people generally go through the same kind of experiences. Be they bad or good, face it, we've all faced rejections, heart break, failed relationships yadda yadda yadda. But it's the way we face them and deal with them that make us the people we are. Whether we're forgiving or not, big-hearted or small, cautious or care-free, weak or strong, it's all evidence and result of how we deal with our experience. But no, tonight I don't really feel like talking about myself. I've already come to the conclusion tt I'm too self-centred. A lot of what I do is for self-preservation/ my own interests. I want to change tt and have a life and future that includes the people around me, but I will deal with this point once I can formulate some kind of action plan for it (yes I know. I rationalise too many thing too much, but tt's how I work). Anyway at this point in time some of my friends are going through not-so-wonderful times as well. I guess sometimes there's little you can do except to pass on the message to "Keep the Faith". To trust that you will survive, that everything will be all right. That you will always have people around you who love you and value and will hold your hand no matter what you go through. Sometimes we can't do tt much. Sometimes the battles have to be your own. But we can supply the weapons, the food, and most importantly, the prayers. Another friend of mine is dealing with a guy who: firstly, has a girlfriend. And secondly, likes her and will not stop pestering her to return his affections. And thirdly, when she tells him tt he should stop it coz she's not interested and he's already attached, he goes ballistic and tells her tt he didn't ask to like her and tt she has no right to tell him what he can or cannot feel. That he has deleted her number from his phone, tt she's the one with the problem, brings up her past relationships, warns her not to make him angry... and then later apologizes for the outburst. And mind you, all this is in SUB-STANDARD english. I'm so sorry, but tt's the first thing tt rubs me the wrong way. Hello, you are suppsoed to have a university education and you can't even master half of the english language? And you think you have some kind of standard to even TALK to my friend? Haha... you think it's "better this way"? Yeah man. Considering the way you just butchered the english language I'm glad you're leaving her alone too. Okay, let me now deal with the rest: 1. EVERYONE gets rejected. Okay, so maybe the gorgeous rich famous yadda yadda yadda bastards whom the rest of us average joes hate don't, but face it. You're supposed to be a man. Take it like one. You have a FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. What's wrong with you??? 2. Okay, so maybe you didn't ask to like my friend, but face it. She didn't ask you to like her either. And she obviously can't be dictated into returning your affections, so why are you blaming her for it? 3. She didn't emotionally manipulate you. She didn't use you. She gave you no occasion to say what you did to her. And even if she did she's a girl and you're a fucking man so for god's sake ACT LIKE A MAN. Or do you even have any balls to begin with? Why are yu acting like such a petulant little bitch? Man. Unstable cheating bastards are possibly the worst kind of men I've yet to come across. This guy needs some kind of psychiatric provision. Maybe he wasn't loved enough as a child. I don't even WANT to delve into his history. Urk. Secondly, dammit dammit dammit. Bimbo side of me is raaaaging. That is NOT good. NOT good you hear? Argh! TSK is getting hotter and hotter by the minute. *sighz* But anyway before tt, there's Shrek 2 to watch, Taekwondo to attend, a punching bag to revisit, and people I love to meet. | |
DON'T CLEAR THE TABLE AT A DINNER PARTY UNLESS THE MEN GET UP TO HELP TOO What this piece of advice means, is basically when your friends invite you over for a meal, they have probably (and should) made arrangements to clear up etc, so it's actually gracious to allow them to clear teir tables themselves. Get what I mean? Coz then it'll seem to reflect on them as being ill-prepared/cheap. Of course, if you really must help, you meaning the grrls, you have to make sure the men help too. Coz this is the 21st century and we're nobody's slaves. It's all about equality, and anyone who doesn't agree with me can pretty much kiss my ass. :) *********************************************************** DAVID'S BACK! David's the coach. He came back from a 3 month (or was it 2 month?) hiatus in the States. Well, he decided to give us a break today/go easy on us coz this would be our first rowing session with him in god-knows-how-long. But of course, we being the people we are, just to prove that we haven't dropped in standard since he left, we gave our all. As a result, I'm so so so fucking tired now. I fell asleep twice - once on the bus from Kallang to lunch at Raffles City, and once on the bus home. And the moment I got home, I just crashed on my bed and slept. Have you ever felt like you just sink into your bed? Coz that's how I felt. Like my muscles were all jello and soft and I could just merge into my bed. Good news: my stroke is FINALLY right! Coz my back muscles ache like fuck. How to deal with those Pesky Blisters: How to Prevent and Treat BlistersEvery rowers gets them... blisters! Here are some helpful hints, courtesy of Open-Water Rowing http://www.openwater.com/. Here's How:
Tips: Your best bet is to keep your callouses thin and pliable and bring tape or some other adhesive material in the boat with you that you can apply when your hands begin to develop hot spots. The Captain's opinion: Wearing gloves while you are rowing is for wimps and women, have you see Steven Redgrave wearing gloves at the Olympics? I think not! How to Tape Your Hands Are your hands all blistered up and you need a quick fix? Here's an easy solution using white sports tape. Taken from http://rowing.about.com/ Here's How:
Tips: Make sure you don't make the loops too small or they will cut off circulation to your fingers. The Captain's opinion: Taping your hands works, however don't expect any sympathy from your crew or coach if you want to stop the boat to fix your tape while you are on the water. ...Helpful advice that Boon Chin emailed to us. Pretty good coz I have an average of 2 blisters on each finger of my right hand and, dare I say it? Abrasions on my butt. Argh... Bloody hell. Today my paddle was old and the sides were rough and kept abraiding my fingers; spent so much time taping my fingers between sets. Bah. Oh, and 1 of my girls thinks the guys' team coach is hot. She says he beats all the other people in the guys' team hands-down. My personal opinion: she hasn't taken a close enough look at the members of the guys team. *grinz* In any case, apparently that coach is supposed to be a 'typical guy'. Not in the good way; I assume it's chauvinistic, egoistic, out for sex, wants a girl who cooks and cleans, etc. Of course I'm generalising, but forgive me. Don't have a good opinion of some people right now. After training, we have this habit of sitting at the pavement thingy above the Basin in the sun... carrying Umbrellas. Is it strange, that dragonboaters who spend so much time in the sun... carry umbrellas to shield themselves from it later? It's such a tai-tai thing I find it almost hilarious. Johnny shot me a weird look coz of the brollies. Ooh. And we were *this* close. I chose a good seat next to that bag. :) 10 km runs every morning + a swim. Before training. ??? Think tt's crazy? Nah, but I admire that. Discipline and focus. I guess such a good body can't just drop out of the sky. Maybe it's obsessive, but adrenalin is a positive addiction. Don't you think? *********************************************************** I MISS YOU"Hello there, the angel from my nightmare...I like being physuically exhausted. It means I'm too tired to think of anything else. But of course, physical exhaustion is pretty much just a temporary escape, no? Got this from my email:"Are you overwhelmed? Don't lose sight of your priorities. Spend time with the Lord. He will lift your load and give you the right perspective. —Dave Branon" I don't think I'm spending enough time with my Lord. I'm praying again, which is good. Coz for a time I stopped. As in consciously. I thought I wasn't good enough, wasn't worthy of Him. But I need some focus and direction, and I wish I could turn to Him more to provide it."Where are you and I'm so sorry...I miss you. Feeling the guilt. Feel I was too harsh. But the Cold Turkey stage is always the worst isn't it?"Don't waste your time on me you're alreadyI need to refind that focus in my life. I've lived so long before finding you, I should be able to live again without you. But thanks for the memories."I'm sorry that I hurt you,And lastly, to the people who read my blog, here's a *wave* to you. Thanks. | |
EAT DESSERT That's Chapter 2. Meaning literally, don't diet. Don't deprive yourself. Don't count calories or starve yourself or anorexise or whatever. Fuck the thin bitches. Best thing's to be healthy, fit. Exercise. Forget thin or slim or pretty. You're not as fat as you imagine, so love yourself. ********************************************************* Second entry of the day. All I did? Cut grass. Yes, I'm the Charity Gardener II after Debiao, who got his job gardening in Malaysia. I simply get to garden my home. Watch Sex and the City. 4 episodes back to back. Talk about overkill. Listen to a lot a lot a lot a lot of music. My iTunes has been on all day. No particular playlist. Been listening to everything. Explains The Postal Service. And The Rasmus. And Eminem. Been playing my MTVs in between each SATC episode. Fergie from Black Eyed Peas is so hot. Gotta want to be her. Can't wait for training tomorrow. Get my eye-candy fix. Made a couple of phone calls. Sent an email or two. Hey girl, you ok? Let me know how things go. Worried about you. Know that you're not alone. A lot of people are surrounding you and will be here for you whenever you need it. And as for myself, the decision has been made. It's for the best. It's right. But Mich you're right. I haven't woken up yet. I feel empty still, like I've lost something important. It's diffcult not to go back and undo what I've done. EMINEM - SUPERMAN 'Cuz I know you want me baby I think I want you too... | |
Monday, May 24, 2004
ALWAYS ASK Been a long time since my last entry. Quite a few things have happened since then. But to be true to what I said the last time, this is the first piece of advice from Wurtzel's book. What she means is always be inquisitive, be curious. Always thirst for knowledge. Ask. Ask about things you don't know. Not just in the academic field, but all the time. People you meet in a queue. Isn't it always nice to know more? Maybe knowledge doesn't always make you happier. Sometimes knowing too much can cause a lot of pain. But if anything, the most interesting people are the ones who know the most. At the very least you'll never be bored, and you'll never be boring. Everything is a learning experience. For better or worse. ********************************************************** Anyway a lot has happened since last Tuesday. LANGKAWI Firstly, I went to Langkawi with my parents to celebrate my mom's birthday.
That's me and my dad. We're on this floating platform at the beach outside our hotel. Langkawi is a beautiful place. It's unspoiled (mainly). Very touristy, but unspoiled. You see the contrast between mountains and sea; in the sunset you can see the orangey-red of the sun as it sets behind the mountains, and its reflection in the calm seas. The waters are crystal-clear; small fish swim at your ankles as you wade in the shallow waters off the beach. The sand itself is soft, yet not too soft that you can sink into them. The beaches are clean, really really clean. And at Cenang Beach shells litter the beach. Every wave that crashes into the shore brings more shells onto the sand, and you can hear the sound each shell makes as the waves bring them all in and out again. Hermit crabs scuttle around the beach, making little holes as they burrow themselves into the sand. You should have been there. Like I said, we were celebrating my mom's birthday in Langkawi. Explains the birthday kiss no?
Langkawi was great. My dad had planned on family-bonding. I guess we probably achieved that. My mom being a shopaholic, dragged us around with her to look for stuff to buy, so essentially most of my trip was wasted spent in a car or wandering around the streets of Kuah town wondering what my mom intended to buy. Coz honestly there is no shopping to do in Langkawi, unless you want to indulge your vices. Cuban cigars are easily available; a pack of Malboro Menthols can be bought for Rm 3.50 at any provision shop, and a can of Heineken retails for Rm 1.20. Completely duty-free. I bought back a bottle of Bailey's for Rm 72.00, although dammit, I could have got it for Rm 40.00 at a different shop. I haven't opened the bottle yet; it lies unopened in my room. But I guess after my race I'll finish the whole bottle with my girls when we celebrate. But on the upside, I managed to jet-ski. 45 minutes over 2 days of racing over the waves (much to my dad's dismay: "Don't go too fast ar, your old man's heart cannot take it." "Don't go too deep ar, very dangerous you know.") Okay, essentially he wanted to ride behind me coz he thought I would feel it safer with him around, but he got off after 5 minutes coz I was going too damn fast for him and it scared him. But anyway he was right and I was going damn fast. For someone who hasn't even got her licence, I'm already a freaking speed demon. I love pulling the throttle to the very max and speeding over the waves. Every bump that almost throws me off my seat if not for my holding on to the handles; every waves that splashes into my face, the feel of the wind directly on me; the way the scenery comes at me at this incredible speed; and all this being at MY OWN CONTROL; fucking orgasmic. Loved it. Almost as good as wakeboarding. Almost. Also had a nice conversation about my dad. It's a given that he's DAMN charming and he's had a lot of girls in his life... both before and after my mom. He's got a tendency now to attract women in their 30s... Just found out that he got picked up at Brix at the Hyatt recently by a 'sweet-looking young lady in her 20s carrying an umbrella (?!), who came up to him while he was drinking with his colleague and saying that she'd met him somewhere before. And gave her number to him. I also found out that he's already been to Paulaner's Brahaus. With this female friend of his who fed him beer from a pint glass by passing it from her mouth to his. Should I be angry or disturbed? No, I'm not. My mom doesn't know this. She doesn't know a lot. She doesn't even know that I'm named after one of my dad's exes. But it was in the past. He asked me if I felt jealous or protective. I said I wasn't. Because I know, very firmly deep-down in my heart, that no matter who he meets or what he does, at the end of the day he will always return to my mom. ********************************************************** THE WEEKEND Coming back to Singapore was a little more troublesome. Coz firstly we were maidless. We touched down and reached home close to midnight on Friday night, and I slept at 2am coz I had to help my mom wash the clothes. Nearly died for training on Saturday morning.The first good thing was I survived training. I always do, althought with great difficulty. We trained mixed boat. The second good thing was I finally got to strike up a conversation with one of the dragonboat guys who was from my JC in my year. Been seeing him for the past dunno-how-many-months, but finally got to talk to him coz we happened to be taking the same bus. For me, home; for him back to Hwa Chong to play basketball. It's easy to talk to him coz we are both on the same wave-length; scholarships and missed/rejected chances; the kind of things we want to focus on our lives at the moment; humour... Even the memories of playing basketball during JC. I realised that's just one of the memories that I miss; me and Hsien skipping Chinese lessons to play basketball (and street soccer) with the guys, such that I ended up nearly failing Chinese. Now when we see each other we can acknowledge each other. It doesn't mean anything but it's a good feeling. The bimbotic side of me says that I love guys who are tanned and muscular. Sun tattoos across the back are optional, as are big breasts. But not at all repulsive I might add. After training I left for home early to help with the housework. Inexperience made me spend the next 3 hours of my afternoon sweeping; vacuuming; moping etc. But after that I got off-time to meet my Home Team people for dinner. Around 10pm, I went from Suntec to Zouk to pass Mich her birthday present. Had a couple of drinks with her, but I told her I'm mainly off alcohol (and clubbing) coz my race and my physical condition is more important to me than anything else right now.
Yep, that's me and Mich. Taken outside Winebar (this time I was conscious). Met her friends including some people she wanted me to meet; danced for a bit (Zouk music on Sat night doesn't appeal to me. I still prefer the sounds of 50 Cent and Fatman Scoop to what the DJs spin in-house); then caught a cab home. I realise how much of an influence she has become on my life, and I thank God everyday that even now, even with all the problems that we went through, that we're still such good friends. ********************************************************** CLARITY Speaking to Mich on Sunday night helped me see a lot of things that I never saw earlier. Okay, Anthony Robbins teaches me how to condition myself into changing my life; Elizabeth Wurtzel teaches me how to live with myself after realising how much of a mess my life is in. Mich gives me the very pieces that fit in everywhere; to why my life is a mess, to what makes my life a mess, to what I must do an realise for myself to get out of this mess and be who I used to and still want to be. I cannot believe what I've done in the last year of my life. I wanted to live more. I wanted to let go of some of that control that had been restricting my life. But I overdid it. I swung to the other extreme. The clubbing, the alcohol, the way I've been bouncing from one detructive addiction to another. I've been letting everything else and everyone else control my life. I've been goving too many things and too many people - people who don't deserve that kind of power over me - control. But now, seeing what has happened, seeing what has become of me, it ends now. My grades, my life, my self-esteem, my values. Everything hasn't been worth the sacrifice. I feel disgusted with myself. For what I've allowed myself to become. For letting down my parents; the amount of effort they've invested in me, and most of all, for letting down myself. I've let too many things distract me from what I want, and it ends now. I'm making a change today. I'm focusing on what I want. My grades aren't becoming at all. My JC classmate is the number 1 girl in Law School. I have the capacity to make it that high if I wanted to and put myself to it, but I fell so far. Next year I'm going to be as good as I can be. There are so many things I want to do and be. Be the best that I can be. Be the strongest rower I can be and bring pride to my teamates. Be the best that I can be to myself; be disciplined. Be the best fighter I can be in Taekwondo. I can fight. I can bring myself back to that standard. Dance. Not club with the smoke and the alcohol and the bastards out for sex, but just dance. Be the best friend that I can be to the people whom I matter to, be the best daughter I can be to the parents who deserve no less from me. I had to let certain things go for that. I know it's not completely over. The hold's not been broken. I guess it can't be. But I have to thank you for the experiences. Teaching me. Being there. Providing the solace and comfort. But I'm breaking the hold. I'm going to.I'm sorry. "The drugs don't work". Cocaine can provide the fix, but you know the high is a mirage. You're no better than you would have been before you shot up. It's temporary, transient, and while it's good while it lasts, it doesn't work forever. You're killing yourself, commiting a slow slow suicide. Can't kill myself. Not going to. I guess I just gotta sink as low, get to rock-bottom, all by myself, coz after that there is no way but up. Hit my threshold and fucking get a hold of myself. And it starts today. I'm not going to be a victim or hurt or suffer from fucking low self-esteem again. It's disgusting to be all pathetic and sorry for yourself. I'm sick of that stage. I'm in control, I have the power, and no one else is going to take that from me. ********************************************************** MUSIC I'm listening to the tracks from The Postal Service. They've grown too much on me I guess. Especially The District Sleeps Alone Tonight and Such Great Heights. They remind me. Thank you. Oh, and Franz Ferdinand's 'Take Me Out'. Liked it from the moment I heard it coz it's so damn ridiculously catchy. And the MTV is equally ridiculous. Franz Ferdinand is incidentally, the name of the Austrain archduke assasinated that started World War I. Twista's 'Overnight Celebrity' is nice and catchy too. But at a time like this I shouldn't listen to The Rasmus' 'Funeral Song', which I happen to like too much. | |
THE SECRET OF LIFE There's this book that I've been wanting to pick up since December last year, except the $29.86 price tag kind of threw me off. Especially coz the book has a grand total of 85 pages. So I read it at Kino, but I found the info in the book valuable enough for keeps. I bought the book late last week. It's called 'Radical Sanity: Commonsense Advice for Uncommon Women' by Elizabeth Wurtzel, the girl who wrote 'Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America'. If there is one thing I can recommend to fellow girls out there (especially if your lives are neither that happy or that perfect and you're fucking sick and tired of everyone telling you that you can be that happy or that perfect in this helium-faked happy kind of voice), it would be to check out this book. Yanli thinks it's a bad idea coz it's advice coming from someone clinically depressed and on Prozac. *insert evil laguhter here* But to be honest, I think the fact that Wurtzel has gone through and experienced so much makes this sharing all the more valuable. She's had first-hand experience and learnt all these lessons the hard way. In fact, she's admitted herself that she gives damn good advice. Just that she isn't good at following her own advice sometimes. Aren't we all? So, while I don't know how many girls read my blog (or even if anyone even reads it muahaha), I figured I'll make my money worth it for you by sharing 1 chapter/piece of advice with every entry. You may agree or disagree with what Wutrzel writes: personally while I agree with a lot of it, there are pieces of advice that I disagree with or have my own opinions about. But all the same, you can't deny that what she says does give you quite a bit to ponder about. So let's all forget about Anthony Robbins for a while and get some imperfect grrl power instead, yar? *grinz* I know I may be sued for plaguarism/copyright infringement blah blah blah coz Wurtzel won't get any more money out of this, but firstly, assuming she genuinely wrote the book to help women like us, then would this not be helping in furthering that objective? And secondly, the bloody book is a rip-off at $30 for 85 pages!!! Argh! But anyway back to the topic; this entry's piece of advice is the introduction - 'The Secret of Life'. Shut up about the cliches. She's not here to impart it and neither am I. But to her, the whole purpose to the book; the crux and end-all to the advice is this: to have faith. I'm not talking ardent religious fervour like pious Christianity or Buddhism or Judaism or whichever religion you might profess, but simple faith. Faith that everything will turn out all right in the end. Faith is different from belief - the steadfast knowledge that you will get good results, have a good family, secure a good job, marry that hot hunk and live happily ever after - coz that belief is only for the people whose lives run perfectly, smoothly, without a hitch. Basically assholes put on this planet to annoy the rest of us. But rather, faith is that simple feeling that keeps you going everyday. Sounds like my 'survival' motto doesn't it? Except unlike my survival motto it's a positive faith. It isn't a strength or a will. Unlike a survival motto it doesn't see mistakes as failures, something to be avoided and ultimately, to be learnt from to become stronger, but rather, faith sees mistakes as part of humanity in life. Faith as something to be celebrated as what makes life what it is for us, what makes life interesting. And faith is what keeps us going day after day, because ultimately, having fun is what life should be about, shouldn't it? Anyway speaking of fun... I have a couple of things to rant about today. Okay, rant shouldn't be the word used coz there's both good and bad stuff to say, but nevermind. First, the good (relatively) stuff. 1. I went Sentosa with my teammates today!!! Had a lot a lot of fun! We ate a lot! I think outings + dragonboaters = FOOD all the time. I got totally stuffed on sandwiches and jellies and wafers and all sorts of snacks we brought. We even played daidee where the losers would have to eat 3,2 and 1 piece of jelly respectively, and I never won one round! Argh! Besides that we splashed around. A LOT. Played frisbee and soccer (although soccer was more Boon Chin acting like we were World Cup players and diving, screaming 'off-side!', getting yellow-carded for time wasting... etc). Hilarious.
2. I also have more of a tan. Ironically, most people go Sentosa to tan. We don't. We have TOO MUCH of a tan. All of us would rather stay in the shade and pig out. In any case now I think I am TOO tanned. I have a total of 3 tanlines on my upper body alone. 1. Singlet tanline (from training). 2. Sports bra tanline (coz I usually wear my white training singlets to rowing, so every time I get soaked as I row, my singlet becomes transparent so all areas not covered by my sports bra are one shade darker). 3. Bikini tanline (from the sea sports camp and from today).
I think it's horrible. Really screwed up. Fortunately, Junch thinks it's sexy so that's my only reason to wear tubes. However, what is COMPLETELY horrific to me, is the fact that I have Incredible Hulk arms. Yes, I cannot deny that fact now. I have Incredible Hulk arms! ARGH!!! They're not flabby, but they're fucking huge! And I don't care that they're 'packed with power'; because there's no definition I look HORRIBLE. ARGH!!! Somebody SAAAAVE me!!! *wail*
3. On to the NON-fun part. My familiy has lost our 3rd maid in two weeks. I've never liked talking about domestic helpers, but really can't help it. Argh. Plus the parents are driving me nuts. My mom hated the one we hate, so one night she sent her packing after I came to that maid's defence. Yeesh. Our next maid went on strike after 5 days coz our house was 'too big'. Our third one left us last night after she threatened to run away unless we hired her permanently (she was just temp help). So now, I've to do housework. Okay, I'm a slef-professed spoilt brat. I hate housework. Not that I don't know how to do it, but I don't like doing it. I figured, if you don't have to do it yourself, why bother? (shut up with the blah blah comments on responsibility) But since my parents are so stressed, of course I've to do my part. The easy part is stuff like washing dishes, sweeping and moping the kitchen, feeding the dog etc. Doesn't take me more than an hour to do everything. The hard part is stuff like vacuuming and moping the rest of my house, sweeping our garden, watering our plants, etc. I hate doing that. It takes a hell lot of time and considering that we've got parquet flooring and dragging the bloody vacuum cleaner across it will result in scratches, I've to carry the bloody thing around 2 stories. Argh. And worse, my mom's complaining I don't help enough. She believes that unless I cook and clean, I'll never find a boyfriend, never get married, and die a spinster. Oh god. Once again, SOMEBODY SAAAAAVE ME!!!
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RANDOM COHERENCE* Just a few things I wanted to share from exposure to the TV and newspapers. 1. I WANT TO BE A COP IN ITALY!!! Italian cops get to drive LAMBORGHINIS!!! You've got to be in the Traffic department and can only use them cars on the highways but fuck it, I'd do almost anything to get to drive THAT CAR. 2. I love Nike. As in their advertising campaigns. Alsolutely brilliant. The nikebeautiful campaign has so totally won me over. You take average but REALLY fit and glowing girls and you call them nikebeautiful. Doesn't matter that you don't look like Gisele Bundchen or Heidi Klum and unlike 90% of the girls in Singapore you're not anorexic. You're fit, muscular, healthy, and therefore you qualify. Just like me. :) But I especially love Nike when it's football season. During the World Cup in 2002 the Nike Cage thing to JXL's 'Little Less Conversation' with all these international stars 'battling it out' in a cage was fantastic to watch. So much so that the movie clip has been in my comp since then and yes, I do watch it every now and then. And now that Euro 2004 is almost on us Nike's come up with a new football advert themed "Ole!" (I think). It starts with a match in a stadium between Brazil and Portugal, just as the players are coming out of their dressing rooms onto the field. While both teams are still waiting in the walkway, you've got the usual suspects Ronaldo and Figo hanging around, and then Figo casually asks the referee for the ball, proceeds to kick it through Ronaldo's legs, and go "Ole" in this taunting voice. Ronaldo pushes Figo and thus begins a scramble for the ball which ends momentarily with Carlos who goes "Ole" to Figo. The players then take the 'match' outside through the back of the stadium and onto the field through a corner entrance. At this point because the opening ceremony is on the players succeed in crashing into mascots more than scoring any goals. There's yet another one-on-one between Ronaldo and Figo which results in the ball being kicked out of the stadium (very nice kick-in from a spectator standing outside), more fancy footwork on the field, and finally Ronaldinhino being fouled by a back tackle from a referee, who's fuming mad. The advert ends with both teams standing in a line singing through their respective countries' national anthem - all bruised and scruffy and dirty. As usual, fancy footwork, big names, and a lot of hilarious fun. Worth watching again and again and again. :) 3. I have discovered that Law And Order is a series worth watching, especially for me. Criminal Intent and Special Victims Unit. What kind of crimes can and have been committed. How the cops investigate. What they investigate. How they interrogate. And what they discover in the end. Unlike CSI it isn't just about proving the actus reus - what really happened, but more of the mens reas - what was in the minds of the apprehended criminals. Sunday nights on Channel i from 9pm to 11pm. Yay. Now I have things to watch on a Sunday night. 4. They show Happy Tree Friends clips on MTV. I just watched the Lemonade clip on a big-screen TV around 12am. Like, wow. 5. I am burning out. 2 days of training and outings don't mix. I think I may have been stretching myself too thin. But yesterday night I got to see my JC Taekwondo people some of whom I've not seen in 2 years. Was a little hard to connect with everyone but it was good to see everyone again. And the night view from the Esplanade into the Singapore River mouth (where my race will be held) is beautiful.
6. Okay, I admit. I'm starting to miss chionging (What?! Already?!). It's one thing to lock the doors, blast 'In the Club' and 'Crazy in Love' (which I've been doing for years, albeit with ever-changing music), but it's nothing like being right there in the darkness moving in a sea of equally hot people (to be taken in both senses) to an all-encompassing beat, drunk on the taste of alcohol and just lost to the music. Daaaarn. 7. Ooh, and lastly, TSK is how hot??? Yum yum.
*credit to James
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"PLEADING THE FLEETING MOMENT TO STAY" It's a line taken off the book Man and Wife by Tony Parsons. Finished it last night. The line's about photography. Why people take photographs. To capture a piece of life in a piece of time and hold it there for eternity. It's uncannily apt. I met Yanli today. Since she was kinda late, I whiled some time away at Borders, which was actually productive coz I managed to finish reading Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis. Which begs the question: why are 'classics'/'good literature' mainly books that no one seems to understand? Like James Joyce's Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. That's one fucking hard book to read and understand. It lies in my collection, still untouched after Page 2 coz he doesn't bother to intepret any of the things he observes in his biography - so it's a nice big riddle for you, the esteemed reader, to solve. I seriously don't see the point in that. To me, it's like listening to the music of the Aphex Twins. Anyway the Metamorphosis is literally about this guy who turns into a cockroach, and ends when he dies. WHOO-HOO. Wow. I seriously need to get the critique of the book. Coz right now I don't see the point. Anyway Yanli came around and we had lunch at Scotts and just talked about life - or rather my general miserable wallow-in-self-pity and self-hatred yadda yadda yadda lifestyle, and her wonderfully un-normal everyday lifestyle with her suitors-on-Prozac and her aspirations to become a mother, and her love for photography. That's why we spent our late afternoon and evening walking through the Bugis and Bencoolen area, walking through shophouses and temples and food centres in the 'heartland in the city', observing life. According to her, photography is like looking at common everyday life from a different perspective. And it's true. You tend to see more and appreciate more through a camera lens than through your own eyes. A man languid on his trishaw, waiting for customers. An elderly woman pleading us to buy a small bouquet of beautiful flowers from her. Then there's all that about lines, angles, light. The interaction between human and landscape. How you manage to see beauty in things like tt. She took me to the studio of a photographer, but he wasn't in. There was a photo of a baby just after it was born, covered in blood, eyes closed, umbilical cord still attached. She, with her photographer's eyes saw life, new and beautiful. Something large and magnificent about it, in its raw and most fundemental form. The romance in motherhood. All I saw was a bloodyn foetus, umbilical cord attached. I told her that to me, photography was like vicarious living. Capturing the moment in a life of an utter stranger, unrelated to you. Drawing questions as to how different - or how similar that person's life would be to yours. She didn't see it that way. But we both agreed on one thing. Photographers are observers. They see everything for more than it might seem, yet they are detached. They never get involved. They can turn something everyday and mundane into something memorable and breathtaking, they can force you to question and draw your own intepretations as to what you see, yet they will never give you any answers. Yanli wanted to show me that there was more to life than I knew, that there was a bigger world out there waiting to be discovered. She may act like a bimbo, but she is one of the most perceptive people I know. She makes me want to whip out my Panasonic Lumix 330, camera-idiot as I am, and walk down that stretch and the Little India and the Chinatown areas again, capturing moments in the lives of people I have never nor will ever know, whose path I may have never nor will ever cross again, just because I want to plead the fleeting moment to stay.
P.S. My fucking MP3 player DOESN'T read BOTH the 256mb MMC AS WELL AS the 64mb MMC I bought today. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THE FUCKING THING??!! ARGH!!! I've just wasted fucking $150!!!
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MEETING OLD OLD FRIENDS Met up with an old old friend tonight. Known since I was 12, but lost contact with over a year ago once I joined NUS. Changes quite a bit on the outside but essentially the same on the inside. Looks a bit like a dick though, and all hard and stuff. But can be easily swayed. Haha. What did you think I was talking about? It's my punching bag. Or rather, the one at the place where I went for my first Taekwondo training in over a year. That's right, I've gone ahead and made that big exchange: 1. Black mascara and 2.5 inch boots for a simple (and unfashionable) white gi and corny feet (which is what you get if you train bare-footed on hard ground over time). 2. Loud music and Crazy In Love (argh... oh, the sacrifice!) for shouting. 3. My flamin' lambos and long islands for a cup of horlicks and milo after training. That's right, I've traded in Mambo Nights at Zouk for Taekwondo training at a CC near my place populated mainly with kids half my age and size. But oh, no regrets. I vowed I'd clean my act up until after my June race, now didn't I? And in any case feels like Taekwondo was the highlight of my day. This morning I went for Dragonboat training, There was a fucking screw-up with my dad and I was late enough to incur my captain's wrath... again. Training was damn tough and I got kinda demoralised by my 'not-being-strong-enough-yet'ness when rowing. What made it worse was finding out - less than half an hour after my captain gave me a talking-to about attending trainings regularly - that he had booked and CONFIRMED plane tickets to Langkawi that could not be cancelled and would cause me to miss yet another training. ARGH!!! Was so incredibly fucking pissed with him. Anyway after training I rushed down to YMCA to sign up for that Salsa class. So exciting. Then came home, collected some KTV club membership offers thingies from Yingshuang to market for O-Team, and did the script for David and my intro video shoot tomorrow. Stress lah. Was so damn tired. Didn't really get any rest. By the time the script was done it was time for dinner, and after dinner it was time to go down for my session. But tonight was good. Nicholas agreed to come down and intro me to the instructors, and even though the class was made up of mainly kids, it was still pretty rewarding. The training wasn't tough coz of the kids, but because I was already tired from dragonboat I could feel my lungs threatening to burst out from my chest in between kicks. I guess it's been too long since I trained short-burst stamina. And then, there was the punching bag. There it was, hanging from a basketball post, a lonely figure swaying in the night, just BEGGING for me to give it a nudge. Or 20 turning kicks and a couple of punches. I miss that. I remember how I used to love mutilating the punching bag in the Taekwondo Room back in Hwa Chong (as well as my knuckles) by just whacking it whenever I went into the room to jia4 zhua2 (eat snake). This one's shorter than that one, newer and black in colour (also lacks the blood stains found on tt one), but it still makes me pretty happy. In fact, I think the punching bag has really put me in a very good mood. Anyway training was over a lot faster than I expected. I got introduced to the kids at the end of it and oh my goodness I think I could just fall in love with them. The boys there were at this age where they didn't yet think girls were the pits, and they were so sweet to me. Haha. Damn cute to watch. After that went for kopi with Nick and the instructors David and Francis. Drank milo and listened to them talk about their past; Taekwondo, tournaments, army life, drinking and driving... almost anything under the sun. It's almost surprising how open the instructors were to me. There have only been 2 people I know like that: one was my other ex-boss Marcus who was also a national team Taekwondo-player and in the SOF, and the other was my shifu when I was training with the NTU Taekwondo team - and yes, also another Taekwondo nat team player. Yes yes. These 2 instructors were also former nat team. It makes me wonder if Taekwondo just does tt to you. I remember Marcus used to tell me he didn't mind being open or sharing what he had/knew with others because he had that confidence in himself and sharing would not hurt him. He was an inspiration to me. I learnt a lot working under him. If only I had his kind of resolve and focus in life. As for my shifu, he was also an inspiration. He's the only person I know who can go from ITE to owning his own Porsche on his own money. Proof that you don't need a fucking degree to be successful. And now Francis was telling us about everything and he was so easy-going. Amazing. I find it strange how he tells me to call him 'Francis' when I think I should be addressing him as 'Sir' at the very least. After all, he's def a lot more senior than me (both in age and rank - hell, he's even more senior than my NTU shifu), and he mentioned his ex-wife. National champion, always won golds or at least silvers in her tournaments. Sparred with him on a regular basis. At that moment I was thinking: "Wow. I want to be her." I guess that's always been one of my dreams since the first day I joined Taekwondo. Fight in the national tournament and actually win something. Or hell, get on the national team even. And my dream guy has always been one who's good in Taekwondo (i.e. more senior than me, a better fighter than me), with as strong a passion for it, so that we could practice it together and spar together, even after marriage and kids. Of course, I don't think I would be as ki2 siao4 (mad) as Francis' ex-wife to whack sandbags when I'm 3 to 4 months pregnant. I'd prob stop doing that after my second month. I think. Ok, maybe my third. Taekwondo has always been an outlet for me. When I'm extremely depressed or angry (which I've always been a lot), I turn to Taekwondo. I turn to sparring. There's something about no-holds-barred, just aim for the head, just whack; that makes me feel so alive. Tonight I didn't get to spar coz there was no sparring tonight, but Nicholas tells me the instructors intend to brush me up and send me for tournaments. I don't know if I can be ready for tournaments after so much inactivity. I haven't gotten a bruise on my face in ages. Haven't been kicked in the head for a while. Haven't been knocked right onto my back by a kick for years. Haven't tasted that fear, felt that rush of adrenaline, felt the ferocious aggression for a long long time. Ooh. But I can't wait. I missed you my punching bag. | |
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
THE INFECTION OF EVIL Fucking pretentious title, no? *grinz* Listening to Beyonce's "Naughty Girl" (The Remix featuring Li'l Flip) now as I blog. Finally, 2 hours after logging on and blog-surfing. Bought a multimedia card for the Creative MP3 player Mich got me for my birthday. Now I've got to use it for my camera instead coz the fucking player doesn't read 256mb MMCs... just a max of 64mb MMCs. Argh. Dammit. Now I have to time my runs to coincide perfectly with 16 songs. ONLY. But anyway apart from tt it's been a good day. Hell, my past few days have been pretty good. Hanging with my fave people like Mich and Dee (even if Jo couldn't make it today), pigging out (strawberry cheesecake and chocolate overload ice-cream and waffles at Gelare on a Tuesday), watching movies with pretentious accents ("Yourrr reputationnn prrrecedes you"), and laughing, and acting stupid and irrelevant all at the same time. Love that. Miss that. Been wanting to that for so long. Woke up this morning feeling some kind of happy. Saw 2 SUVs go past at the bus stop. A Hyundai and a Lexus. And I just thought. Fuck they look so cool. They're big and powerful and they rule the road (without looking obiang like freaking lorries). I want one too. So now it may be a war between an SUV and my silver Honda S2000 with the maroon velvet seats. Heard the ad for the Black-Eyed Peas concert on the 23rd of May and remembered how much I absolutely love grooving to Hey Mama and Dirty Dancing... Man, I haven't gone to a concert since 1998!!! That's waaaay too long. So tempted to go for this one now. Just gotta find khakis. And get over the $99 ticket for free-standing. Ugh. My bank account is so going to be completely depleted. And now I feel like going to Harry's @ Esplanade. Yes, I have never been there in my life. And I know tt it has tt salsa event thingy once a week, and I really wouldn't mind joining it. Only thing is firstly I have to take a class so that I don't malu myself so much. So many plans, so little time. Oh yay. I love talking to Dee. You learn about SOOOO many things about your cousin that you nver knew before. But anyway, that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is: The Discovery of the Torture of the Iraqi Prisoners at the hands of US and British Soldiers. Ironic that we just studied about how Torture was recognized as being so morally reprehensible that it came under Universal jurisdiction on that basis alone, under the Transnational Crimes section of Criminal Law. How people like Pinochet could be tried in countries for which there was no direct co-relation of the crime. There were cases were Torture was actually mitigated; i.e. pleas of duress, or necessity, defences about how people (or in those cases, criminals) were tortured in the name of the greater good. To save others, etc. But can torture be justified? My mom thinks that the Iraqis deserve it. That they have commited acts so heinious that they deserver their retribution. I won't pass judgement on whether they deserve it. What matters to me is the American and British soliders. How people bred in a country that wears the recognition of the universality of human rights and justice and fairness on its sleeve, that goes around policing countries such as Czechslovakia and Equador and Afghanisatan and condeming others for their lack of respect for the basic human rights - especially Iraq - would violate the very pledges they served to protect? You ask yourself this. Why is it? Is it the environment? Is 'evil' infectious? Can people like us who see this world only through a television screen, have the right to judge on what is evil or not? Were the soldiers so influenced by the death and violence around them that that was all they could do in return? Had they spent so much time in Iraq, that they had become 'infected'? Desensitized to the pain, to the blood, to the brutality and bestial nature of such acts. Because they had seen too much, known too much, experienced too much too soon that they'd lost their humanity, and grew to hate, abhor, despise their prisoners so much as to abuse them when they were helpless and defenceless. I'm not in the army. I'm not a soldier. I don't fight. But isn't there a concept of honour? Of not fighting those weaker than you, or those who cannot fight back? Has this concept been too eroded? Terrorism and soft-targets. Maybe when you've seen enough death the loss of life fails to register. People become like ants. One stomp and they stop moving. Maybe that's the infection that's been sweeping through the prisons. Or maybe it's more. Maybe it's the army itself. Being in the army makes you a different person from whom you might be outside. You're a 'man'. You're tough, fearless, unstoppable. Patriotic and loyal to your country. You'll fight to your death. You'll kill every enemy before you let them destroy those you love. Was that what's happened here? The breeding ground for hatred. Maybe it's the procedure. Too much testosterone. How you 'extract information'. How you 'get them to talk'. How you 'teach them a lesson'. I don't know. I think it's sad. A part of me wishes that there hadn't been a need to send all these men and women down. You look at the soldiers who are being court-martialed for the torture. Have they done something grotesquely wrong? Yes. But if you think about it, if they hadn't been in that situation, in that country with those people witnessing all that death and violence and blood, if they hadn't been donning that green army uniform holding that rifle in hands too young to know enough, would they still have done it? | |
CORRINNE MAY - FLY AWAY "When will you be home?" she asks _____________________________________________________ If you love someone, you have to let them go. Give them to wings to make them fly. If you love someone, you got to be happy for them. No matter what choices they make, no matter how those choices may hurt you, because those are the choices that make them happy. I love this song. | |
THE LOVE TEST 1. You are attracted to those who have split personality, like cold 2. In the process of courtship, the approach that would make you 3. The impression you would like to give to your lover is optimistic. 4. You don't like it when your partner is emotional and/or too 5. The kind of relationship you would like to build with your 6. You can't resist desire and lust; most probably you'll commit 7. You think of marriage as a precious thing. Once you get married, 8. At this moment, you are quite self-centered; you think of love as Courtesy of: http://www.naucon.net/misc/tests/love_test01.htm I never thought of it this way. But uh... some sections are fucking accurate. Oh dear. | |
STANDING STILL Geylang Lor 9 has damn good tau huay. They put peanuts in it. I've just discovered that as I'm dipping my you tiao into it now while simultaneously going through James' very nice photos of Shanghai. It's so amazing. You just admire the beauty of a place, any place; well, in this case Shanghai, but you can't help but be blown away. It's nothing like what most people would expect. For one, it's fucking huge, for another, it's so modern. According to James it's clubbing scene is notches higher than the Singapore clubbing scene. It's an amazing amalgation of East and West (to use an overused cliche); you've got Chinese buildings next to Western architecture, and once again according to James the Industrial Bank of China is housed in a Victorian building. Contradiction. I wish I was there. That's one of the beauties about blogging. It's all about vicarious living. So maybe some may say that living vicariously isn't half as much as living for yourself, but sometimes you just don't get the right chance at the right time and sometimes living through others is a way to open up your world - provided you don't fall into the trap of living through everyone else... except yourself. To me, seeing fragments of James' world through his eyes is like showing myself one more thing to live for. That the world I know is so small and insignificant as compared to the world I don't - what's out there beyond these barriers waiting to be discovered. It's another reason why I should let go. I've been speaking to a few people about what I went through the past weekend, when it got pretty fucked up for me. Essentially, they have 1 piece of advice to me, and that is if someone can move on, then so should you. I've been doing a lot of reflection. Been realising that maybe it's not the person after all (Eternity doesn't bring back the memories that it did yesterday Mich. I've decided to keep it as my No.1 fragrance still. But ooh... I love cK One on myself). It's me. It's the issue of my pride. It's the issue of my mindset. I've been in the state of unhappiness for months now. And months too long at that. I've been asknig myself why. Why I cannot just let go. Of course I want to fucking move on. You think it's fun to wallow in misery? But somehow all my efforts the past few months had been going to waste. If I tried to distract myself with activity or with the company of friends, in lull moments, or in moments when I was alone, by myself, with idle time to think, I would feel this horribly empty feeling. Empty. A loss that I couldn't replace. And it would just eat at me. Either that or I'd go absolutely crazy. In the midst of another moment of self-directed anger or guilt I'd go completely reckless, scream "Fuck it all!" to the world, and go and do something really stupid and bring about worse consequences for myself. I'd asked myself why. I didn't know what the whole root of my state was. But I've been talking to people. Gaining their perspectives on things. Some are radically different. Some involve actions that I wish I won't ever have to do but I know I might have to. Some are just so fucking hard to do, but I know those very actions are the ones that will save me, and some seem so easy, but never really have a long-term effect for me. Today I rationalised why it was so difficult to let go and move on to my brother. It's the sense of loss. Of what could have been. And you feel it so strongly because you had the memories - good memories. Maybe because they were the best you ever had? Because your life before you just looks so mediocre and boring and dismal without them and sometimes, those memories are all you have to hold on to? Even when it hurts every single time to remember? He agreed with that. That perhaps sometimes the reason why we would choose to cling on futilely to fleeting memories, no matter how painful the curse is, is because we don't have enough faith the face the future. But he did believe that we had to learn to grapple life head-on nonetheless - live with all the bad it throws at us, and cherish the good the we have. And most of all, to keep on fighting for any present and future happiness we might have. I wonder, did I stop fighting somewhere along the way in those months? Did I just give up unconsciously and subject myself to acts of despair? At this point in time I'm seriously considering solidifying the walls. Becoming detached and antipathic to everything. But as my brother said, if I did that, I would be letting my life slip into nothingness. I should stop blaming life. Should stop blaming myself, being angry and upset with myself. Life never promised me cookies and cream (TM: Chris Oh Yida); I have to earn every fucking cookie for myself. So I have to grab on to what makes me happy. Not happy as in happy in a long-term state, but right now happy-happy. Like the things I love doing. Training. Adventure. Thrills. Family. Friends. I have to begin to love myself again. To stop holding on to a future that could never have been and flagellating myself for it, but to hold on to what I have now. The present. "To lose my present would be to lose my future." And I can already see that happening. How much of my time have I already wasted on what could have been, instead of what CAN be? It's not an easy lesson. I've rationalised a part of it for myself. But I have a long way to go in keeping to my rationale. But it's true isn't it? That every episode of pain you feel just makes eventual happiness that much sweeter? That every unhappy moment was created by God to make you stronger, AND to treasure your joys more? I've been missing the big picture. I've been surviving every ordeal, but I've not been learning. I've not regained that happniess, or that self-love, because I lost my faith somewhere along the line. So I'm going to make a concerted effort this time. To let go of what could have been and to hold on and to cherish further what I have. My family. My friends. The people who have stuck by me through everything that's happened. Who have never left my side no matter what's happened. To the goals that I want to - and know I can - achieve.
P.S. I hate people who lie to me.
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WHY DOES IT HURT LIKE HELL? No, the above title doesn't refer to my tooth, or lack thereof. The pain's down to a bearable level now. Besides, before I went out today (yes ladies and gentlemen, I went out today to redeem my 2-week-late lunch + Kill Bill Vol. 2 movie date), I took another painkiller just in case. So this is a different kind of pain. A kind of pain that just makes you wish, fucking wish, that you could go back to that period of fucking unbearable physical pain, coz at least that kind of pain was simple and uncomplicated and unlike this kind of pain, would go away after a while. I met James for lunch today. We were going to watch Kill Bill Vol. 2 like we agreed 2 weeks + 1 day ago, before we both had other disruptive plans (i.e. getting drunk and really bad hangovers). Coz the Marina Square foodcourt is now closed for renovation (yes, you heard me right. The air-conditioned food court with the famous ban mian and bak chor mee and roasted duck rice is now closed! What a bitch), we had to have lunch at the Food Junction at Raffles City. Except he was fasting, so it was more like me having lunch (porridge *yawnz*) while he watched. Oops. I kept forgetting that he was fasting and asking if he 'wanted anything'. What an insensitive bitch I am. Man. Anyway we were just casually talking before the movie. About what we did so far - his trip to Shanghai, a bit about my sea sports camp and my wisdom tooth extraction (he cannot believe that I can be up and about 1 day after the operation... and going for training and law bash the next night too), etc. We're meeting each other again for Law Bash tomorrow, along with a whole bunch of people, both in Law and outside. In fact, I've had so many Law and non-Law people telling me that they might be turning up for Law Bash, so for everyone else wondering whether it will be fun or not, I can damn well guarantee that. Provided of course that you find it. So for the uninitiated, below are the details. LAW BASH: Judgement Day Where: Sultans Of Swing (okay, to all the people, who like me, didn't know where the hell the bloody club was and thought it was either at Mohammed Sultan, Clarke Quay, and Boat Quay respectively, the club is at CENTRAL MALL. You know where Newsroom Bar is? Yes, that, according to very reliable sources, is where Sultans of Swing is.If you still have no idea where it is upon reading this, contact me.) When: Saturday, 8 May 2004. Entry after 9pm (I think). But between 10pm and 11pm is a safe bet. Tickets (available at the door!): $15 for guys, $12 for girls. With 1 complimentary drink. If you're really hard-up about drinks, I can give you mine too, since considering I have training on Sunday morning (WTF?) and I am on antibiotics and possibly painkillers (WTF?!) I won't be touching alcohol at all (coz I don't wish to commit suicide for no good reason). Alrighty? So if you want to come down, just come on down. Okay, I'm cutting the advert here. Back to James' and my conversation, we were talking about the sights and sounds of Shanghai, and lomography, Law Orientation as it was coming up, and were even wondering who would be turning up for Law Bash, who would get drunk (since I'd straight out told him I would not be repeating my IPM feat from that last time at Phuture), etc. Of course gossip gets thrown around, and then I found out that someone I knew was attached. I should be happy right? He's a friend, he's a damn nice guy, and I should be happy that he's found happiness. But instead, I felt stung. Imagine that. We were just friends. We were no more than that. I expected no more than that either. We weren't even close. But yet, I was just affected. Why? I'm not the kind of person who opens up easily. The people around me recognise that I am a very guarded person. I build up walls around myself to protect myself from pain, and on rare occasions do I actually lower them to persons around me. And on the last 2 occasions I lowered them, I got stung, this being the second time. Kai says that it's natural, that sometimes pride is all we have. Pride was all I had, yet I willingly gave that away and for what? I feel like a fool. An utter fool. God I'm so angry with myself now. I'm not perceptive enough. Why do I choose to let in people who only hurt me? Why do I attract to me only people who hurt me? I've always had walls. Walls to protect myself. To prevent myself getting hurt. But I've lowered them on occasion when I recognise that by shutting people out, I deprive myself of the positive sensations, of ecstacy, of warmth, of joy, of unconditional companionship, that you can achieve only if you are willing to give of yourself totally. Yet when I do choose to lower them, thinking that by giving of myself enough, I will finally be truly happy. Times like these, I'm thinking 'fuck it. Fuck the useless romantic idealism. Why shouldn't I just forgo the so-called utopian ideals of love and utter happiness? Why shouldn't I just keep my fucking walls up?' So maybe I deprive myself of a lot of things I could gain, so maybe I might be labelled the bigger fool, so maybe I might go through life and end up as I predicted, old and alone and lonely in a house full of cats when I'm 68; but at this point in time, it just seems better. Being detached, devoid of emotion, protected from human fallacy; it just seems so much more attractive, to being hurt again and again and again. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of being affected, of feeling the way I do. But on a completely unrelated note, Kill Bill Vol. 2 was good. I prefer the violence and style of Vol. 1 (think the slaughter at the house of falling leaves), but the camp and cheesiness of Vol. 2 is a hoot.
This is a pic from SOS. A girl (I forgot the name. Oops!) Guanzhen, Eric and me. I look like some china doll. Scariiieeee. | |
