I would say the attitude I have had in the last week or two, is sorely regretted. I make apologies for the descent into a feeling of emotional drain and for most probably bringing your mood to an all time low. However tough the week was, I understand that most of you probably saw my previous entries as a way to light up your eyes. (Self-praise is clearly not intended in this entry, whatever amount of it that remains is mostly unintended and yet evidently true :D ) Anyway, I regret my sink into a state of singular depression.
These few days have been the closest I'll felt to utter happiness. A happiness akin to when the new year first greeted me.
Friday:
Now you must know something about my lifestyle these days. I've been awfully in need of a new backpack. (Well ever since Yen and D said my current one minimized my size.) It is with great difficulty that the past week I engaged in saving and scrimping for cash. "Every cent counts" was the catchphrase D would throw at me every time I indulged in something. Therefore, the last 2 weeks were filled with sandwiches and homemade goodies. A water bottle that served the only purpose of keeping me filled up so I wouldn't buy canteen food came in handy at times. Yet anything goes when you want a perfect bag. Friday was no different and I actually woke up at 4.30 A.M. to make the most elaborate recess I will ever taste in my life. (Well, actually I didn't specially wake up to make the noodles, rather as I was sick I was awoken by my cough. But just let me feel all high and mighty right now!!) I cooked 4 packets because pro said she wanted to have some. I actually planned to include several slices of ham and scrambled eggs but my weariness prevailed and I forgot all about the extra ingredients. 9.30 A.M. came and all I had to offer to my horrified classmates was a filled-to-the-brim box of instant noodles with a seasoned tom-yum taste lingering. My dear twin decided to redeem my folly by buying some food from the Mixed Rice stall and dumping some into the box. Success! I actually conned Choon Min into eating what was now a "rather decent" meal of noodles and curried beef. (Yes, Choon Min you've been conned. Haha! You realise it only now!) It's funny though. Professor Les can't take curried or chilli at all and repulsively seeked water sources as if she was a thirsty traveller in the Sahara upon her first few tastings. The day ended on a sombre note with a sincere conversation involving the emotional wreckage of the weekend past. While Saturday brought laziness on a bed with an iPod in hand, Sunday had more to offer!
Sunday:
An overdue session of dialogue and ice cream (We would both agree to utterly be crazy over while possessing an indulgent smirk as we slurped our spoons) with my best professor. Just talking to pro enlightened my view on many issues that cropped up previously and as well as issues that are certainly starting to arise. Randomness engulfed our conversation at one point. Which mostly consisted of gossip and loads of doodling on each other's notepads. It is of notable interest to you that we most definitely did not stop to admire the Mud-pie. (Oh, yeah right Pin Li!) Yet as D would tell you, I am on a save-money campaign that requires me to bring sandwiches and a water bottle to school. Therefore, I most certainly did not purchase a mud-pie. Nor did I indulge in a milo drink from Macdonalds. Nor did I purchase an apple pie. I am not lying right now, stop smiling. Anyhow, at the end of the day pro told me not to neglect me-time. Thus, I will not neglect me-time and will always find time to engage my inner self. Wise words, wise words indeed.
This week thus far:
I would say that the 4 ham and butter sandwiches I made this morning (Of which I only had 2 to myself.) certainly makes the grade at last. No longer will I be known as the guy who mashed up nutella with overflowing, excessive margarine spilling out from the seams of the bread. Rather, I will make quality sandwiches equivalent of the pricey ones they sell at Delifrance. (Which, no offense to the attorneys of the French company, I have to say might just sell their own versions of mashed up stuff with bread..) Tongue in cheek guys. Tongue in cheek. Don't sue me for that. How screwed up is it though, that I have to attend one-on-one sessions with my chinese tutor for being a bad student at articulation? Sigh. The days of C6 and smiley faces are long gone.
After school this afternoon, a group of us pursued our ambitions to emulate Shawn Lim's lifestyle. Queueing up in the 2 storeys-high crowd of people outside Ben & Jerry's, while playing hold'em on Yen's hands, inspired me to desire a strawberry cone at first. And I really do mean at first.. Because we queued up for a second round. (Our first cones in tow!) But seriously! Free cone day is a day where everyone gets the opportunity to sneak a few cones into their stomachs without feeling guilty about it, simply because we didn't spend our week's pocket money on purchasing it! Altogether Ben & Jerry's Cathay seemed to have lost 70 bucks from just the few of us. You can imagine the total cost for the thousands more in Cathay at that particular time. Multiply it a few times to picture the hundreds of thousands of people queueing up for free cones around the World. Well, thank you Ben & Jerry's.. For allowing me to not only enjoy 2 free cones, but experience what it takes to go on a merry-go-round trip twice. I will most definitely support your business. (Come free cone day next year of course..)
Right now, I have to rush a ton of essays and fix a file that isn't even ready.
Labour Day just won't come fast enough..
P.S.: Thanks everyone. :) I am alive and well.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
I'll stop the World and melt with you
I am sick of the old route. I am sick of always following a daily plan that does not matter to anyone anymore. I am sick of always being the least I can be. Sick of being left to ponder what if? What could have been? Where would I have ended up?
It is the sickness that destroys my desire to fight on. A cause that perpetuates itself each and everyday. And yet, at the first glimpse of dusk, I have no idea what the cause is anymore.
Today, like any other day represented a dull, moody monday that had absoutely no perks at all. If anything I already miss the life I used to have.
Holidays, I keep reiterating to everyone I meet, are something I have grown to desire and have yearned for in the past few weeks. I have planned out exactly what I intend to do in June, or perhaps even in December. Yet, time passes as though it is stuck in an unpenetrable vacuum.
However for the sake of discussion, indulge my next few paragraphs.
When the holidays arrive, I should like to wake up early on most days. Breakfast at a favourite cafe represents freshness to a lifestyle of mundane studying. Perhaps tuition days might pose a potential stumbling block to early mornings. Yet, the majority of my days will be spent with a caffeinated drink in hand, my laptop enticing my other hand, and perhaps a close friend across the table ranting about his lovelife and the fences that have engulfed it.
My afternoons will be spent rather lazily. Whenever time poses a threat to my enjoyment, I will not hesitate to dial a familiar number. Bridge will be the order of the afternoon, most afternoons at least. We shall slouch ourselves in white-cushioned sofa-seats, chat about the idleness of our current situation and discuss in great detail, the possibility of wasting more time with more meaningless enjoyment. Perhaps for the greater good, a movie might present itself as a great way to end off the sun's presence. And perhaps at this point, we enter the night.
Dinner.
Descriptions need not be extensive. Dinner has always been just dinner. Nothing defines the final meal of the day, neither does it need any extra indulgences. Dinner will be dinner. And this shall be the rhetoric you will find me adopting. Post-dinner, however, will present a different story entirely. Music makes me passionate about the finale to my awakening hours. I should like to finally visit an ambient, quiet place that offers me the greatest relief to a sore day of absolutely no work. Sipping an equally quiet glass of whatever-the-hell-I-feel-like, I will gaze longingly at the brilliant instruments conscripted to action. After hours spent counting the total tabulature, my hands shall clapse when the music stops. As much as my mother would love for it to, the night will not follow suit.
Le Fin.
A walk.
To refresh my thoughts. To remind me of the paradox between this holiday World and the next. The anxieties, the worries and the burden of caring for unrelated topics will not subjugate me. No, for I will be walking. And thinking, of course. And my hands shall reach for those familiar white strings of attachment. And my ears shall engage themselves in combat with the environment that is now ghastly quiet, and the soft, sombre strings of Nouvelle Vague. Perhaps I might fancy Azure Ray. Who knows? I shall have the luxury to choose between both. With only the faintest of drum beats making the faintest muffled, distanced bobs of sound.
When my legs can go no further, I hail the green lighted saint of transport. Closing my eyes and gripping firmly onto the soft, delicate feeling of slumber, I will utter a command. Following a journey of intense struggling with the demons of soberness, I will rest my head on my Kingly throne of pillows. And when my head rests, I shall be amazed at the prospect of reliving the schedule at the very next instance.
Bring it on.
I fancy the new route better.
It is the sickness that destroys my desire to fight on. A cause that perpetuates itself each and everyday. And yet, at the first glimpse of dusk, I have no idea what the cause is anymore.
Today, like any other day represented a dull, moody monday that had absoutely no perks at all. If anything I already miss the life I used to have.
Holidays, I keep reiterating to everyone I meet, are something I have grown to desire and have yearned for in the past few weeks. I have planned out exactly what I intend to do in June, or perhaps even in December. Yet, time passes as though it is stuck in an unpenetrable vacuum.
However for the sake of discussion, indulge my next few paragraphs.
When the holidays arrive, I should like to wake up early on most days. Breakfast at a favourite cafe represents freshness to a lifestyle of mundane studying. Perhaps tuition days might pose a potential stumbling block to early mornings. Yet, the majority of my days will be spent with a caffeinated drink in hand, my laptop enticing my other hand, and perhaps a close friend across the table ranting about his lovelife and the fences that have engulfed it.
My afternoons will be spent rather lazily. Whenever time poses a threat to my enjoyment, I will not hesitate to dial a familiar number. Bridge will be the order of the afternoon, most afternoons at least. We shall slouch ourselves in white-cushioned sofa-seats, chat about the idleness of our current situation and discuss in great detail, the possibility of wasting more time with more meaningless enjoyment. Perhaps for the greater good, a movie might present itself as a great way to end off the sun's presence. And perhaps at this point, we enter the night.
Dinner.
Descriptions need not be extensive. Dinner has always been just dinner. Nothing defines the final meal of the day, neither does it need any extra indulgences. Dinner will be dinner. And this shall be the rhetoric you will find me adopting. Post-dinner, however, will present a different story entirely. Music makes me passionate about the finale to my awakening hours. I should like to finally visit an ambient, quiet place that offers me the greatest relief to a sore day of absolutely no work. Sipping an equally quiet glass of whatever-the-hell-I-feel-like, I will gaze longingly at the brilliant instruments conscripted to action. After hours spent counting the total tabulature, my hands shall clapse when the music stops. As much as my mother would love for it to, the night will not follow suit.
Le Fin.
A walk.
To refresh my thoughts. To remind me of the paradox between this holiday World and the next. The anxieties, the worries and the burden of caring for unrelated topics will not subjugate me. No, for I will be walking. And thinking, of course. And my hands shall reach for those familiar white strings of attachment. And my ears shall engage themselves in combat with the environment that is now ghastly quiet, and the soft, sombre strings of Nouvelle Vague. Perhaps I might fancy Azure Ray. Who knows? I shall have the luxury to choose between both. With only the faintest of drum beats making the faintest muffled, distanced bobs of sound.
When my legs can go no further, I hail the green lighted saint of transport. Closing my eyes and gripping firmly onto the soft, delicate feeling of slumber, I will utter a command. Following a journey of intense struggling with the demons of soberness, I will rest my head on my Kingly throne of pillows. And when my head rests, I shall be amazed at the prospect of reliving the schedule at the very next instance.
Bring it on.
I fancy the new route better.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
You've got to spend some time, with me
I think its most probably the attraction of sitting at a nice cafe somewhere, doing something as superficial as blogging and as soothing as sipping a mocha frap that extraordinarily costs 10 times more than the materials used to concoct it. Clicking iTunes I select Death Cab for Cutie to be my sole companion through this meaningless entry. I talk to Ben Gibbard sometimes. I tell him that if I had his voice, I would release 500 albums to make sure every single person in the World knows of my wondrous ability to craft emotions out of guitar distortion and rhymthic beats.
Patrons at this joint make me cringe. The old foreigners that pick up a copy of The Straits Times and secretly wish for The New Yorker instead, the domestic helpers (toddlers in tow) helping their employers attend to the milk impartment process while the former attends to handing out wads of 2 dollar notes in the exchange - a daily routine of cupcakes and coffee. It is at this moment in time that I realise the distinct beauty in being able to pen what I truly see, what I truly feel, without feeling stuffed up or simply bored by the dull home page. Maybe the superficial side of me wanted this, maybe the lively part of my soul had a thirst for an awakening in my mind. But I will attest to the fact, that this time I will tell you exactly what I experience. You are my companion. You oh great journal of brown background, will become my greatest confidente to such a degree that I cannot fully unwind a day without logging onto you. You oh great journal, will become my mind.
This afternoon, I spent approximately 5 hours tirelessly trying hard not to make my Group Project Proposal sound like an eulogy or a dedication service sermon to Bono. It seemed at that time that the proper thing to was simply to praise the dedication of Bono so thoroughly that it would almost be certain our teacher will be suckered into buying the idea. It did however, get me thinking. Rather randomly as well..
One day, I would like to travel the World. Go to places I've never been before, perhaps Turkey, South Africa, or maybe even Brazil. I would entertain myself with the wildest of intoxications in Turkey, the most perfect natural experience in South Africa and the thoroughly effective cocca beans in Brazil that no doubt will leave me awake for hours at hand. And when everything has been done, every place has been visited, every warm summer sun basked in, every sky admired fully, I will frolick with the wild, tall, grass somewhere in France. And I wouldn't even mind if at that point, I succumb to the frailities of life and depart. Because I would have experienced it all.
For now. That remains a dream.
And you are encouraged (somewhat strongly!) to donate to it's cause. :)
Patrons at this joint make me cringe. The old foreigners that pick up a copy of The Straits Times and secretly wish for The New Yorker instead, the domestic helpers (toddlers in tow) helping their employers attend to the milk impartment process while the former attends to handing out wads of 2 dollar notes in the exchange - a daily routine of cupcakes and coffee. It is at this moment in time that I realise the distinct beauty in being able to pen what I truly see, what I truly feel, without feeling stuffed up or simply bored by the dull home page. Maybe the superficial side of me wanted this, maybe the lively part of my soul had a thirst for an awakening in my mind. But I will attest to the fact, that this time I will tell you exactly what I experience. You are my companion. You oh great journal of brown background, will become my greatest confidente to such a degree that I cannot fully unwind a day without logging onto you. You oh great journal, will become my mind.
This afternoon, I spent approximately 5 hours tirelessly trying hard not to make my Group Project Proposal sound like an eulogy or a dedication service sermon to Bono. It seemed at that time that the proper thing to was simply to praise the dedication of Bono so thoroughly that it would almost be certain our teacher will be suckered into buying the idea. It did however, get me thinking. Rather randomly as well..
One day, I would like to travel the World. Go to places I've never been before, perhaps Turkey, South Africa, or maybe even Brazil. I would entertain myself with the wildest of intoxications in Turkey, the most perfect natural experience in South Africa and the thoroughly effective cocca beans in Brazil that no doubt will leave me awake for hours at hand. And when everything has been done, every place has been visited, every warm summer sun basked in, every sky admired fully, I will frolick with the wild, tall, grass somewhere in France. And I wouldn't even mind if at that point, I succumb to the frailities of life and depart. Because I would have experienced it all.
For now. That remains a dream.
And you are encouraged (somewhat strongly!) to donate to it's cause. :)
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