Friday, December 18th, 2009
Spam
Apprently I’ve been gone too long that my blog comments system was hit by a spam bug. Took sometime to clear it off. oh well.
Tuesday, October 27th, 2009
Get serious.
A few years ago, when I just left the agency I was at, and was then just starting to help out my dad in his business in machinery trading, I went for a pre-degree programme interview at a pretegious university in the London. No, I didn’t go to London (have never been there), but a representative was here. When she asked me what I was currently doing, I told her about my plans to help out my dad until I get the course that I wanted to do. Her reply was simple yet profound. But being the young punk that I was, I shrugged her reactions off, thinking that no way she could understand the Asian culture that I was brought up in. But this year, I’m beginning to understand what she meant. I guess it takes a certain number of years of maturity to come to face the statement. She said…
.
.
.
“I’m sure what you are doing now is very admirable, but if you want to be serious about your own career and your own life, now is the time to take charge.”
.
.
.
Time to get serious.
Monday, September 14th, 2009
Lost
Sometime early this month, I suddenly realised that I’ve lost all directions.
.
All.
.
I was in denial about it for a week or so, because I was pretty damn sure I knew where I was going.
.
In life. In career. In relationships. In everything.
.
And coming to terms with it, albeit quite quickly, has been scary.
.
Not exciting scary.
.
But scary scary.
.
Now I’m just going with the flow and see where it takes me.
.
I’m sure it’s going to lead me somewhere I don’t want to be.
Monday, July 27th, 2009
I wanna move out!
When I come home late at night after telling my family in advance, and when I get home and find them still awake and I remind them that they don’t need to wait up for me, I don’t expect to be confronted with words like “We were worried, thinking and waiting for you. You summore go and loose your temper and scold us.”
.
.
.
And when I come back from a trip to find my room unusually tidy, and was told when I asked who used my room, I don’t expect to be confronted with words like “Your dad’s friend technician used it. You were away and your room is always opened what. Why? Did something went missing meh?”
.
.
.
.
.
.
I TOLD YOU I’LL BE LATE! YOU NO NEED TO WAIT UP! I’M TURNING 25 NEXT FUCKING WEEK! WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE? A KID? A TEENAGER? SOMEONE WHO DON’T KNOW SHIT?
.
AND IT’S MY FUCKING ROOM! THE LEAST YOU COULD FUCKING DO IS TO ASK MY PERMISSION! IT’S CALLED COURTESY!
Wednesday, July 1st, 2009
End of Chapter One
“My current favourite art has ended its first chapter. I think it’s a good closure, though it left my heart dangling on a very fine string towards the end.
.
.
.
The Adominable Charles Christopher
.
.
.
At the moment, reeling from the final panel and feeling really happy and glad about it, I like to say that following Karl’s art since a few months ago has been a good investment. I even bought the t-shirt! And I hope he will go away for a good deserving rest, and come back pregnant (metaphorically) with bigger and more exciting imaginations to carry Charles Christopher and his new friends into even grander journeys.
Saturday, June 6th, 2009
So I don’t know if…
“…whether my email is being ignored or genuinely did not arrived. But yea, I think after last night, I don’t think I should continue waiting for a response anymore. It has been what? Three weeks?
.
.
.
Sigh.”
Monday, May 4th, 2009
Accidently on purpose
…at the bank…
“Okay! Thanks ya!”
“Hey, wait. Did you perm your hair?”
“Yea I did. Haha!” *glows*
“Purposely wan ar?”
“Uh, … no la. Accidently wan. I wanted to cut my hair at first. But when I walked into the hair salon, I tripped and fell into a basket full of hair curlers. I was struggling to get out when I knocked my head on a shelf that was right above my head. And then the impact caused a bottle of hair perming solution – ammonium thioglycolate – to fall on my hair that was already stuck on my hair. I pengsan for about thirty to forty minutes. I guess when I was out, the hair salon’s aircon stopped working and the heat from that afternoon was just enough to activate the ammonium thioglycolate to work its curse. By the time I woke up, I was surrounded by paramedics and the hair salon owner was not allowed to do anything to my hair except to rinse it. The paramedics sent me home and told me to rest for a full week before I go and attempt to cut my hair again.”
I never understand people who ask questions like “purposely wan ar?”.
Monday, April 13th, 2009
Idealist
“You know that feeling. That rush that fills up your heart when something (shoes, jackets, pen, puppy, vacation, person, y’know, those things) comes into the view of your eyes. And immediately you dart your eyes elsewhere and breathes out, in attempt to not collapse in the heat of that rush. That same rush feeling that you get by merely thinking about it even after not seeing it for days. That very same feeling you get, when you google it in attempt to find out more about it. The same feeling that you get, when you daydream about it and play that one song on repeat the whole day. The same feeling that you get again, when you check your e-mail everyday, holding your breath, hoping that somehow, that it will be written be in bold, waiting for you in your inbox. That very same feeling that comes almost every hour since you last saw it (even just once), then without you realising it, comes less often now. Then one day, you realised that you forgot to think about it that particular day and feel extremely guilty. You don’t think much about that guilt because, it’s silly lah. Slowly, you stop thinking altogether. Maybe just once a day, which slowly fades to once a week, because you know, you have a busy life to lead. Slowly you stop thinking about it completely. Not even once anymore.
.
.
.
That initial rush has ran out. Ran out of gas, because in this day and age, it’s too uncertain to be harping on. Harping on something that deep down inside, at the very first moment that your heart leaped, you knew it wouldn’t be. But you hoped! That’s what’s important right? Hope? It’s too expensive to hope. Hope is a commodity that not many can afford now. Comfort comes in certainty.
.
.
.
How have I stopped being an idealist?”
This work is licenced under a Creative Commons Licence.