I have a confession to make: I have a pair of extremely ugly legs.
And, when I say 'ugly', I don't mean cellulite-laden, fats-a-jiggling ugly.
Ok, I admit, I used to have issues over those and wished that I could cut off those pieces of meat that made my legs look meatier than the pork trotters that ostensibly emblazon the butcher's stall front at your neighbourhood market.
Nowadays, I just wish I had back those humongous pieces of meat back, otherwise known as thighs.
Don't get me wrong, my thighs haven't slimmed down a bit. Not sure about whether it has increased in size over the years though. Neither has the cellulite erased its unwanted presence on my thighs.
Instead, what I have that can be mildly passed off as thighs right now are those flabs, with the additional embellishments all over my legs in the form of mottled-coloured skin, bumpy and uneven surfaces, and rashes that wake me up every other night just so that I can scratch that bloody itchy area.
Really, if I had knew that I would get such ugly legs in the future, I would have really appreciated my humongous thighs, at least it boasted a clean, pleasant surface, one without any blemishes, devoid of any disfigurements.
As a child, I witnessed my sister being attacked by that dreaded skin disease, which resulted in her having a pair of legs with mottled patches of scarlet red all over. It was hideous to look at, but I never felt repulsion about it, neither did I give it a second thought.
The first time I knew that I would get ugly legs was when the fortune teller told me straight in the face, that my skin would be attacked by a disease, and I was to be wary and on my toes if any trace of it were to rear its ugly head.
One year later, I was diagnosed with Encezma.
At the peak of the disease, it was really a hideous sight to behold! Parts of my lower limbs were robbed of its natural colour and there would be patches of red all over my legs. Not only that, my skin also lost its smooth texture and surrendered to the formidable rashes that broke out and held it captive. My skin was prisoner to the disease, and brutally tortured at one point in time.
The skin would be scaly dry at times, and horrendously wet with pulse at other times. Most often, the itch was so bad that I would scratch my legs every night until it bleed.
The first sight of red would poke its bud of a head out of my skin and say a cheerful, "Hi!", and yet, I didn't stop scratching. The itch woke me up every single night, and I would stay up in bed scratching my legs, until more rashes broke out, and my legs always bled.
Even though well-meaning parents and relatives would blurt out a simple, "Don't Scratch!", it was a struggle not to. Then, I never listened to those fleeting comments, and continued scratching, bleeding, scratching, bleeding.
My condition got so bad that me parents started nagging me to do something about it. Once, my mother scolded, "You better do something about it, or very soon when the disease spreads, you'll gonna have to cut off your legs!"
That ignited some emotions in me. Up till this point, I've maintained my optimistic outlook on life and always thought, "It's alright, I still have a pair of legs."
Occasionally, I would subject my legs to intense scrutiny, magnifying those scars as I secretly wished that those scars would magically disappear under the heat of my flaming perusal.
My abhorrence and repulsion for those mottled patches was very much evident, and reflected in the hateful gleam in my eyes.
My legs were like an ugly newborn child, regaled with the scrutiny of disapproving glances among relatives and friends, and sometimes someone would let loose a disgusted glance that skimmed across their facial expressions. Occasionally, a sympathetic look would make a guest appearance.
I visited countless doctors in my quest to regain my beautiful legs, cellulite- and fats- ridden. Under medication, my condition took a turn for the better. But, once I stopped the prescription, the condition returned. But, not as savagery and brutal as in its initial pre-medication stage.
You know like in those horror movies, when an epidemic wipes out the entire country, and a heroic saviour finally saves the day, but just as he marches off victoriously swanked in regal armour, the camera zooms in on that one single 'disease-originator' that has been left out while the saviour was battling with the widespread problem... and then the story ends there?
Likewise, after my condition improved, there were still side-effects that mortalized later on, maybe even uglier and more devastating than the disease itself.
After the entire saga, once in a while, I get hit with another horrible disease: low self-esteem. Because I have a pair of hideous-looking legs, that means there is an unwritten rule of 'No pants above knee level', which means that I'm probably destined to wear jeans and black working pants for my entire life.
Once I wore a three-quarters pants, and a well-meaning friend quipped that my scars could be seen. I can't say for sure that the black inky orbs otherwise known as laser, watchful eyes of the public doesn't bother me when I walk out the front door wearing pants that make the scars on my legs visible. It may all be a figment or my imagination, or maybe those orbs are really trained on my mottled scars.
Another time, I wore a pair of ankle socks and my classmate approached me to ask if I had fell down, hence 'the bruises'. I was distressed by the unwanted attention, and of course I lied that, "Yes, I had fell down, and the scars would recover in no time."
Nowadays I've adopted a habit of looking at people's legs everywhere I go. If I were to see a pair of really huge and fat legs, but with a smooth texture, I would think to myself, "Her legs are really beautiful, how nice if I could have legs like hers..."
Is this what they call, "You never know what you've got, until you've lost it?" So, please, this is my plea to all girls out there. You may have thunder thighs, or cellulite-infested legs, but they are beautiful nonetheless! Believe me, I've since stopped harping on my thunder thighs. The '5-cents' and '10-cents' all over my legs just distract me and take up too much of my attention!
Fiona Xie once said, "Because it's for charity, I will donate all my pairs of shoes, all I need are my two feet."
Up till now, I consider myself lucky. At least I still have my legs. I've seen people who have the same disease as me and they've not been so fortunate. The disease can be really cruel!
Once, I saw this girl on the street and she had this mottled patch on her neck, it was huge and the colour of scarlet red, and it almost spread up to her face.
Also, my sister says that her pretty teacher is single up till this date, because she has been infected with the same type of disease and it's a horrible sight to behold (her condition is worse than mine according to my sis), hence rumour is that it scared off all potential suitors.
Really, no matter how cheesy that sounds, I thank God for being magnanimous with me while I've been inflicted with this disease. I know it will be a slow, life-long battle, but I'm willing to continue the fight.
At least it's a battle half won.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Life as a Social Hermit
For all of those uninitiated, I've found a full-time job.
It's the best job I've ever had, and I'm totally enjoying it!
Two weeks into the holidays and I realized I've adopted a cyclic pattern of hedonistic pleasures: eating, sleeping, shitting, reading gossip mags, watching TV serials with zero nutritional value and surfing the net.
Of course, not forgetting that the very special guest that just had to come knocking on my door just inches into the commencement of my holidays. In fact, the bundle came in a 3-in1 package: I had sore throat, cough and flu at different times of the week. And to think that I've been trying to get sick the whole bloody semester, and failed miserably!!!
In fact, the feeling of staying at home is a bit like eating McDonald's; it indulges in guilty pleasure. It feels good in the beginning, but at the end of it all, when the guilt (not to mention the cholesterol) sinks in, you ask yourself, "What have I done?"
I'm enjoying my time-out at home so much that I've been trying to push back all social appointments so that I can spend my time..er, slacking at home. For example, I tried to push back my lunch appointment with dear NJ just because I didn't feel like exposing my skin to the exterior atmosphere. But, in the end, I still got to meet up with her! =)
(Btw, an outing out with NJ is akin to a binging session, and equivalent to 13 hours straight time-out on the sofa at home, munching on anything and everything you can get your hands on, so I would advise anyone who wants to shed kilos off their waistline not to go out with her! Oh no, she's gonna kill me for this!)
Hence, my life as a social hermit is a bit contradictory. Once in a while, I've managed to press the 'off' button on my remote control and shuffle my butt out of the house.
And the last time I had any initiative to call up a friend (please, I've been so lazy to reply to smses!) was at 1.30am in the morning, and she'd just returned from Taiwan. That was Friday the 13th.
Well, so how does this social hermit stay connected to the outside world? (please, I've been so lazy to reply on MSN because crunchyroll is just sooooo addictive!)
Well, apart from the occasional meet-ups with friends (hmm...that will be like twice in two weeks!), I stay very closely connected to what's happening in the celebrity world! The TV and magazines spoon-feed me with daily dosages of therapy to satiate my hedonistic pleasures.
I can sit in front of the TV from Monday to Friday, from 11am to 5pm, it's basically become my full-time job. Heck, even money can't move me at the moment! I'm just gonna sit around and wait for my reply, and if they don't reply..heck! They better.
Of course, there's always that ONE thing that never fails to get me scrambling out of my house!
Anyone care for a guess? Hint: It's famous.
Job Name: (Full-Time) Slacker
Job Scope: Slacking
Job Scope: Slacking
It's the best job I've ever had, and I'm totally enjoying it!
Two weeks into the holidays and I realized I've adopted a cyclic pattern of hedonistic pleasures: eating, sleeping, shitting, reading gossip mags, watching TV serials with zero nutritional value and surfing the net.
Of course, not forgetting that the very special guest that just had to come knocking on my door just inches into the commencement of my holidays. In fact, the bundle came in a 3-in1 package: I had sore throat, cough and flu at different times of the week. And to think that I've been trying to get sick the whole bloody semester, and failed miserably!!!
In fact, the feeling of staying at home is a bit like eating McDonald's; it indulges in guilty pleasure. It feels good in the beginning, but at the end of it all, when the guilt (not to mention the cholesterol) sinks in, you ask yourself, "What have I done?"
I'm enjoying my time-out at home so much that I've been trying to push back all social appointments so that I can spend my time..er, slacking at home. For example, I tried to push back my lunch appointment with dear NJ just because I didn't feel like exposing my skin to the exterior atmosphere. But, in the end, I still got to meet up with her! =)
(Btw, an outing out with NJ is akin to a binging session, and equivalent to 13 hours straight time-out on the sofa at home, munching on anything and everything you can get your hands on, so I would advise anyone who wants to shed kilos off their waistline not to go out with her! Oh no, she's gonna kill me for this!)
Hence, my life as a social hermit is a bit contradictory. Once in a while, I've managed to press the 'off' button on my remote control and shuffle my butt out of the house.
And the last time I had any initiative to call up a friend (please, I've been so lazy to reply to smses!) was at 1.30am in the morning, and she'd just returned from Taiwan. That was Friday the 13th.
Well, so how does this social hermit stay connected to the outside world? (please, I've been so lazy to reply on MSN because crunchyroll is just sooooo addictive!)
Well, apart from the occasional meet-ups with friends (hmm...that will be like twice in two weeks!), I stay very closely connected to what's happening in the celebrity world! The TV and magazines spoon-feed me with daily dosages of therapy to satiate my hedonistic pleasures.
I can sit in front of the TV from Monday to Friday, from 11am to 5pm, it's basically become my full-time job. Heck, even money can't move me at the moment! I'm just gonna sit around and wait for my reply, and if they don't reply..heck! They better.
Of course, there's always that ONE thing that never fails to get me scrambling out of my house!
Anyone care for a guess? Hint: It's famous.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
i thought i was happy, but i was wrong
so the decision to go to Australia may take immediate effect after all, since I called up the person-in-charge, and he said that I had to spend 3 years Down Under, as they didn't provide any '2 yrs in sg, 1 yr in Down Under'...
but, actually, the whole affair about throwing water bottles still bothers me a bit, and Dad has agreed that I can go to New York to further my studies instead. Ahhh, I so wanna, and just when I thought, "Hooray! The British are all gentlemen, and they surely won't throw water bottles at me!" I mean, hey, they came up tops in the Reader's Digest Courtesy survey, didn't they? But, Dad had to go on to ask me to beware of Negros, I have no idea whether that term has any degradery sense or not. And, what's the advice about NOT getting influenced by drugs and cigarettes? Yah, like me, hah! I'll not one of those people who get easily influenced, come on! (err...sure anot? -_-)
overall, I say there are more pros than cons leaving sg, there are so many reasons that are luring me to be independent and stand on my own two feet for once. I can't do that here, because I'm so ensconced in the bowels of security and comfort that are omni-present in my life in sg.
but guess what? my cousin recently just went to US to further her studies, and she TOTALLY regrets her decision. says that if she had to choose all over again, she would DEFINITELY stay in sg, because life there is so tough.
in case anyone of you think that I'm so stupid for letting the throwing water bottles affair impede my decision to study in Australia, you are probably right. I'm stupid.
but the thing is, it's not about throwing water bottles. It's a bigger issue that's lurking behind, enveloping in the surrounding darkness and scrutiny, it's the unknown that rips my sensibility and ravages it.
so right now, I'm tearing my hair out figuring what is the next step to take.
and I tell you, my Dad is no help at all. He keeps trying to persuade me to go study at Monash University. Where? Malaysia.
Can you imagine?
Person 1: I just flew back from the UK.. studying Psychology full-time over there..what about you?
Person 2: Oh, me? I just graudated with an honours degree in Economics and Finance, from the London Institute of Management. What about you? (Looks at me expectantly)
Me: Oh, me? (fakes laughter) I..er, went to study overseas too! I'm actually studying at Monash University.
Person 1: (looks interested) Oh, I see, the one at Australia, right?
Me: Er, no...actually, it's the one in um..Malaysia..
Person 1 and 2: ......
but, actually, the whole affair about throwing water bottles still bothers me a bit, and Dad has agreed that I can go to New York to further my studies instead. Ahhh, I so wanna, and just when I thought, "Hooray! The British are all gentlemen, and they surely won't throw water bottles at me!" I mean, hey, they came up tops in the Reader's Digest Courtesy survey, didn't they? But, Dad had to go on to ask me to beware of Negros, I have no idea whether that term has any degradery sense or not. And, what's the advice about NOT getting influenced by drugs and cigarettes? Yah, like me, hah! I'll not one of those people who get easily influenced, come on! (err...sure anot? -_-)
overall, I say there are more pros than cons leaving sg, there are so many reasons that are luring me to be independent and stand on my own two feet for once. I can't do that here, because I'm so ensconced in the bowels of security and comfort that are omni-present in my life in sg.
but guess what? my cousin recently just went to US to further her studies, and she TOTALLY regrets her decision. says that if she had to choose all over again, she would DEFINITELY stay in sg, because life there is so tough.
in case anyone of you think that I'm so stupid for letting the throwing water bottles affair impede my decision to study in Australia, you are probably right. I'm stupid.
but the thing is, it's not about throwing water bottles. It's a bigger issue that's lurking behind, enveloping in the surrounding darkness and scrutiny, it's the unknown that rips my sensibility and ravages it.
so right now, I'm tearing my hair out figuring what is the next step to take.
and I tell you, my Dad is no help at all. He keeps trying to persuade me to go study at Monash University. Where? Malaysia.
Can you imagine?
Person 1: I just flew back from the UK.. studying Psychology full-time over there..what about you?
Person 2: Oh, me? I just graudated with an honours degree in Economics and Finance, from the London Institute of Management. What about you? (Looks at me expectantly)
Me: Oh, me? (fakes laughter) I..er, went to study overseas too! I'm actually studying at Monash University.
Person 1: (looks interested) Oh, I see, the one at Australia, right?
Me: Er, no...actually, it's the one in um..Malaysia..
Person 1 and 2: ......
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
blog wars
have you ever been engaged in a blog war? usually nothing good comes out of it, all you get are lots of disappointment, self-affirming pronouncements, because blogging usually means a one-sided argument, where only one party gets to have his or her say, and by the time the other party rebuts in his or her blog, it's usually too late for any reversal of emotions.
there are some things I realized I freaking forgot to mention in my previous entry:
ONE: I wasn't ENTIRELY joking when I asked my friend to come back to school to retrieve my burnt CD for me. When I mentioned in the previous post that "I was jokingly pleading with one of my friends to come back to school to retrieve my burnt CD for me"; what I meant was asking in a joking manner, but deep down inside your heart, you hope your wish would be fulfilled. Don't understand? It's like when you tell your boyfriend you HATE flowers because it's the most unpractical gift he could get for you. And, besides, you are allergic to it. But, then you scream at your boyfriend because he fails to get flowers for you during Valentine's Day, when you are surrounded by those apparently allergic flowers all around you. If I was joking, I wouldn't have asked my other friend to do the same for me.
Another thing: You stated in your blog how come I was so afraid to trouble my fellow classmate to retrieve the CD for me, but was willing to put the burden on my close friend instead. OK, let me ask you what is the difference between a 'classmate' and a 'close friend'?
WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.
friend
[frend] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
there are some things I realized I freaking forgot to mention in my previous entry:
ONE: I wasn't ENTIRELY joking when I asked my friend to come back to school to retrieve my burnt CD for me. When I mentioned in the previous post that "I was jokingly pleading with one of my friends to come back to school to retrieve my burnt CD for me"; what I meant was asking in a joking manner, but deep down inside your heart, you hope your wish would be fulfilled. Don't understand? It's like when you tell your boyfriend you HATE flowers because it's the most unpractical gift he could get for you. And, besides, you are allergic to it. But, then you scream at your boyfriend because he fails to get flowers for you during Valentine's Day, when you are surrounded by those apparently allergic flowers all around you. If I was joking, I wouldn't have asked my other friend to do the same for me.
Another thing: You stated in your blog how come I was so afraid to trouble my fellow classmate to retrieve the CD for me, but was willing to put the burden on my close friend instead. OK, let me ask you what is the difference between a 'classmate' and a 'close friend'?
| classmate | |
noun | |
| an acquaintance that you go to school with [syn: schoolmate] |
WordNet® 3.0, © 2006 by Princeton University.
friend
[frend] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –noun
As you can see, to fully explain the concept of the difference between a 'classmate' and a 'friend', I checked dictionary.com, and it states that a friend is someone whom you have "feelings of affection or personal regard". Understand what is the meaning of that? It means that because someone is close to me, that I dare to trouble her without thinking that I'm troubling her. Something like that. I'm not thinking very coherently.
I think it's the same logic as we are more daring to be fierce and rude to our family members more so than to our friends. Because we are closer to them. And, maybe, because you know they can't really stay mad at you for so long.
You state in your entry that "True friends do not take advantage of each other". I seriously do not understand why it comes to a point that I'm taking advantage of my friends. It's more like a favour, you see. Give and take in a friendship? If my friend comes late to school and she asks me to help her sign in, does it mean she's taking advantage of me? I would rather see it as a personal favour (i.e. no strings attached) because of "feelings of affection or personal regard".
Secondly, the thing about blog wars is that the dead gets unburied. Har, what am I toking about? It means all the skeletons in the closet gets dug out, all the past issues, all the hurt, betrayal (?) gets scrapped out and conveyed via the blog.
Once, I told my friend to accompany me to an event (of course, to chase my idols!). She was rather reluctant, but after countless pleas, she finally agreed. At the last possible moment, she found out that it was a FAN CLUB event. She got so fucking mad, by the time my father's car drove up to her bus-stop to pick her up, she was already crying so badly, and under the twilight beams, I could see those tears trickling down her cheeks.
The problem was that she KNEW it wasn't my fault, but she didn't like the way I handled the whole thing. She felt that I had lied to her to get her to accompany me to the event, but it was NEVER my intention. Why I didn't tell her was that I didn't know that it mattered so much to her. In my mind, it didn't matter a zilch.
The same thing applies to your case. I didn't know that it matter, because to quote you, "I’m not God you see."
AHH, FUCK. I TOO HAVE COUNTLESS SKELETONS WAITING TO BE DUG OUT. I don't even fucking know if I should even pull out the skeletons in the first place. On one side, it's like the skeletons are pleading with me to let them out, on the other side, I'm fucking scared because I don't know what will happen once I let those skeletons out.
HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT I AM FUCKING SELFISH...OH PLEASE, I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED OVER HERE. BECAUSE WE ARE ALL SO SELF-RIGHTEOUS AND WHATEVER WE SAY, THE OTHER PARTY ALWAYS HAS A REBUTTAL. WHAT'S THIS WHOLE THING CALLED? ARE WE HAVING AN ARGUMENT? ARE WE FIGHTING OVER SOME ISSUE, LIKE A DEBATE? HELL, NO! ALL WE ARE FIGHTING FOR IS OUR "FACE". TO SAVE OUR OWN FACE. TO SAVE OUR OWN DIGNITY. IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT THEN, ALL THESE WORDS ARE FUCKING USELESS AND HOLDS NO MEANING. EXCEPT TO ANGER. TO IGNITE SPITE IN THE BOTH OF US.
OK, so right now, you are probably going to ask 'what skeletons? what stupid fucking ass skeletons are you talking about?'
Do you know something? When I first set out to write that blog entry, one thing I kept VERY in mind was to NOT BRING UP ANY OLD ISSUES. Did you know why I had such an unwritten policy in my mind from the beginning? Why I choose only to mention concurrent issues, instead of bringing up the past to beef up my argument? Because then the whole argument will be never-ending, and with the past, you RE-OPEN a lot of old wounds, and the fucking last thing I need is to re-open ALL THOSE WOUNDS THAT YOU CAUSED ME.
OK, right now, you are gonna ask me, "What wounds? What stupid fucking ass wounds are you talking about?"
But, you know what? I'm going to keep things as they were. The unwritten policy still shall apply in this post and in future posts as well. I shall not dig up issues from the past, but I just want to let you know that there fucking WERE issues in the past!
Of course, in any argument, in my heart you're always at the winning end, because I understand that you have issues with yourself. THE LAST THING I WANT IS OF COURSE TO CREATE ISSUES FOR YOU. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I'VE KEPT QUIET FOR THE PAST XXXXXX AND I THINK THAT THE VERY LEAST I DESERVE NOW IS FOR YOU TO LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.
Er, last but not least, the million-dollar question, you say that "I would never apologise to you, because I think I have the right to be angry too." I don't understand why you have the right to be angry, unless your anger is built upon some hurt from the past, then I fully understand. In which case, I then have A LOT to be angry about.
I'm thinking. If I hit 'publish', I may lose you as a friend. But if I hit 'Save as Draft', I don't know who I am anymore. So, I hit 'publish' cause the last thing I need is to lose myself and be someone I don't know.
p.s./ if you want to know what one of those 'skeletons' were, try recalling what you said to me in class on the March 16, 2007. Ahh, fuck, just refer to the blog entry on that stated date.
| 1. | a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard. |
As you can see, to fully explain the concept of the difference between a 'classmate' and a 'friend', I checked dictionary.com, and it states that a friend is someone whom you have "feelings of affection or personal regard". Understand what is the meaning of that? It means that because someone is close to me, that I dare to trouble her without thinking that I'm troubling her. Something like that. I'm not thinking very coherently.
I think it's the same logic as we are more daring to be fierce and rude to our family members more so than to our friends. Because we are closer to them. And, maybe, because you know they can't really stay mad at you for so long.
You state in your entry that "True friends do not take advantage of each other". I seriously do not understand why it comes to a point that I'm taking advantage of my friends. It's more like a favour, you see. Give and take in a friendship? If my friend comes late to school and she asks me to help her sign in, does it mean she's taking advantage of me? I would rather see it as a personal favour (i.e. no strings attached) because of "feelings of affection or personal regard".
Secondly, the thing about blog wars is that the dead gets unburied. Har, what am I toking about? It means all the skeletons in the closet gets dug out, all the past issues, all the hurt, betrayal (?) gets scrapped out and conveyed via the blog.
Once, I told my friend to accompany me to an event (of course, to chase my idols!). She was rather reluctant, but after countless pleas, she finally agreed. At the last possible moment, she found out that it was a FAN CLUB event. She got so fucking mad, by the time my father's car drove up to her bus-stop to pick her up, she was already crying so badly, and under the twilight beams, I could see those tears trickling down her cheeks.
The problem was that she KNEW it wasn't my fault, but she didn't like the way I handled the whole thing. She felt that I had lied to her to get her to accompany me to the event, but it was NEVER my intention. Why I didn't tell her was that I didn't know that it mattered so much to her. In my mind, it didn't matter a zilch.
The same thing applies to your case. I didn't know that it matter, because to quote you, "I’m not God you see."
AHH, FUCK. I TOO HAVE COUNTLESS SKELETONS WAITING TO BE DUG OUT. I don't even fucking know if I should even pull out the skeletons in the first place. On one side, it's like the skeletons are pleading with me to let them out, on the other side, I'm fucking scared because I don't know what will happen once I let those skeletons out.
HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT I AM FUCKING SELFISH...OH PLEASE, I'M NOT EVEN GOING TO MENTION WHAT HAPPENED OVER HERE. BECAUSE WE ARE ALL SO SELF-RIGHTEOUS AND WHATEVER WE SAY, THE OTHER PARTY ALWAYS HAS A REBUTTAL. WHAT'S THIS WHOLE THING CALLED? ARE WE HAVING AN ARGUMENT? ARE WE FIGHTING OVER SOME ISSUE, LIKE A DEBATE? HELL, NO! ALL WE ARE FIGHTING FOR IS OUR "FACE". TO SAVE OUR OWN FACE. TO SAVE OUR OWN DIGNITY. IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT THEN, ALL THESE WORDS ARE FUCKING USELESS AND HOLDS NO MEANING. EXCEPT TO ANGER. TO IGNITE SPITE IN THE BOTH OF US.
OK, so right now, you are probably going to ask 'what skeletons? what stupid fucking ass skeletons are you talking about?'
Do you know something? When I first set out to write that blog entry, one thing I kept VERY in mind was to NOT BRING UP ANY OLD ISSUES. Did you know why I had such an unwritten policy in my mind from the beginning? Why I choose only to mention concurrent issues, instead of bringing up the past to beef up my argument? Because then the whole argument will be never-ending, and with the past, you RE-OPEN a lot of old wounds, and the fucking last thing I need is to re-open ALL THOSE WOUNDS THAT YOU CAUSED ME.
OK, right now, you are gonna ask me, "What wounds? What stupid fucking ass wounds are you talking about?"
But, you know what? I'm going to keep things as they were. The unwritten policy still shall apply in this post and in future posts as well. I shall not dig up issues from the past, but I just want to let you know that there fucking WERE issues in the past!
Of course, in any argument, in my heart you're always at the winning end, because I understand that you have issues with yourself. THE LAST THING I WANT IS OF COURSE TO CREATE ISSUES FOR YOU. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? I'VE KEPT QUIET FOR THE PAST XXXXXX AND I THINK THAT THE VERY LEAST I DESERVE NOW IS FOR YOU TO LISTEN TO WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.
Er, last but not least, the million-dollar question, you say that "I would never apologise to you, because I think I have the right to be angry too." I don't understand why you have the right to be angry, unless your anger is built upon some hurt from the past, then I fully understand. In which case, I then have A LOT to be angry about.
I'm thinking. If I hit 'publish', I may lose you as a friend. But if I hit 'Save as Draft', I don't know who I am anymore. So, I hit 'publish' cause the last thing I need is to lose myself and be someone I don't know.
p.s./ if you want to know what one of those 'skeletons' were, try recalling what you said to me in class on the March 16, 2007. Ahh, fuck, just refer to the blog entry on that stated date.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
WANTED: MY VOICE BACK
This post is not meant to offend anyone. I'm just trying to find back my voice, something which I've lost for far too long.
What does friendship mean, really? For me, friendship has always been a kind of relationship that can be compromised when it comes to love. In the hierarchy of relationships, friendship almost always ranks below that 'special someone'. I fully believe that friends will betray one another over their boyfriends/girlfriends, heck, those friends who ain't even worth keeping are those that betray or desert you over some random dude.
I had arguments with TWO friends over ONE day. When the second row happened, I felt like tearing my hair out and cutting off contacts with ALL of my friends, excluding Steff. I got into a bottomless pit where my hands clawed helplessly against the unknown of whatever darkness was enveloping me.
And, then my friend decided to talk it out. She had left, then came back again, tapped me on the shoulder gently, then said we should talk things out.
You see what is the problem with all conflicts? It's that neither or either one of the parties are willing to trash things out! Either stomping off in a fit of anger, leaving behind a trailing blaze of agony, feeling upset and full of anger. It just doesn't work that way, get it?
So that's how basically how one of the arguments with my friend wrote its final ending: she made a statement by stomping off in a fit of anger.
So, I was jokingly pleading with one of my friends to come back to school to retrieve my burnt CD for me, which she replied vehemently with a 'NO.' Capital N. Capital O. I got the message, but as I was just playing around, I didn't understand what was the figging hell with all that anger and disbelief in her reply. But, it didn't take me long to erase that puzzlement in my mind.
So, as we were exiting from the school compounds, I asked another of my friend to collect the CD from a fellow classmate instead. She readily agreed, as she lived quite near to that classmate of hers.
Let me just reproduce a fragment of the conversation verbatim (as far as my memory can serve me) over here:
HER: "Of course I'm not going to come back all the way to school just to collect YOUR CD! What about my transport fare then, who's gonna pay for it?!!"
ME: "Please lor...XX (my other friend) doesn't even talk to me about transport fare..."
When I said that, I wasn't angry or anything. There wasn't any ill feelings involved in my reply, but somehow, along the way, the same message was interpreted with different connotations when it went into a different pair of ears. So, basically, my friend spat out "Fine!" before stomping off in anger. What a statement to mark the end of our poly years!
Look, I'm just trying to be fair here. I've even reproduced whatever 'criminal evidence' I have over here, to justify my own feelings and this blog entry. Does anyone dare to say IT IS MY BLOODY FUCKING FAULT THAT I MADE YOU MAD!??
I believed that you had entirely no reason at all to be mad, and I still do. If there's anyone at all that should be offended, it should be ME. Why is my friend splitting hairs over meager transport fares with me? I simply cannot fathom. If my friend needs to pass me a CD that I need urgently for my work, does she ask me to pay $2.35 for her bus rides? Once again, I'm just trying to be fair, and asking you to see reason, not the colour of red.
Ok, so after the whole affair was over, with me emerging with a million question minds invading my brain for domination, my other friend actually remarked to me, "See lah, you make her pissed..." before giving me a disapproving look.
At that time, the words didn't register in my head. I heard it, but the words didn't really sink in. It was only when dusk fell, when the words truly registered. AGAIN, I AM ASKING THE BOTH OF YOU TO BE FAIR HERE, ASK YOU OWN CONSCIENCE, IS IT FAIR TO BLAME IT ON ME?
They say that in ANY argument, BOTH parties have to be blame. Seriously, FUCK LAH, I CAN'T SEE ANY REASON AT ALL WHY I SHOULD BE BLAMED. Can anyone please enlighten me as to how I should be blamed because I seriously don't see where my fault in this whole saga lies?
IF YOU FUCKING TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE PMS, THAT YOU ARE NOT IN A GOOD MENTAL STATE, THAT YOU ARE NOT FEELING TOO GOOD ON THAT DAY, THAT YOU ARE NOT FEELING TOO GOOD BECAUSE SOMEONE CLOSE TO YOU IS NOT IN A GOOD PHYSICAL STATE, THEN FINE. I am not an unreasonable person, and I can close an eye. But, THE LEAST I FUCKING DESERVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT AND SUCH DISAPPROVING GLANCES FROM MY FRIEND IS A FUCKING EXPLANATION. I don't want to glide over such stuff...because I'm feeling very tired...THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME!!!!!!!!
If I don't speak out now BECAUSE OF FEAR, AFRAID TO HURT OTHERS' FEELINGS AFRAID OF THIS, AFRAID OF THAT, ONE DAY I'M GONNA LOSE MY VOICE.
please, I'm just trying to find back my voice, words with buckets of emotions that would otherwise have gone missing without this blog.
p/s. if after reading this entry, you still think that you're in the right, then please have a good life ahead of you. but the last thing I need right now is to lose another friend.
What does friendship mean, really? For me, friendship has always been a kind of relationship that can be compromised when it comes to love. In the hierarchy of relationships, friendship almost always ranks below that 'special someone'. I fully believe that friends will betray one another over their boyfriends/girlfriends, heck, those friends who ain't even worth keeping are those that betray or desert you over some random dude.
I had arguments with TWO friends over ONE day. When the second row happened, I felt like tearing my hair out and cutting off contacts with ALL of my friends, excluding Steff. I got into a bottomless pit where my hands clawed helplessly against the unknown of whatever darkness was enveloping me.
And, then my friend decided to talk it out. She had left, then came back again, tapped me on the shoulder gently, then said we should talk things out.
You see what is the problem with all conflicts? It's that neither or either one of the parties are willing to trash things out! Either stomping off in a fit of anger, leaving behind a trailing blaze of agony, feeling upset and full of anger. It just doesn't work that way, get it?
So that's how basically how one of the arguments with my friend wrote its final ending: she made a statement by stomping off in a fit of anger.
So, I was jokingly pleading with one of my friends to come back to school to retrieve my burnt CD for me, which she replied vehemently with a 'NO.' Capital N. Capital O. I got the message, but as I was just playing around, I didn't understand what was the figging hell with all that anger and disbelief in her reply. But, it didn't take me long to erase that puzzlement in my mind.
So, as we were exiting from the school compounds, I asked another of my friend to collect the CD from a fellow classmate instead. She readily agreed, as she lived quite near to that classmate of hers.
Let me just reproduce a fragment of the conversation verbatim (as far as my memory can serve me) over here:
HER: "Of course I'm not going to come back all the way to school just to collect YOUR CD! What about my transport fare then, who's gonna pay for it?!!"
ME: "Please lor...XX (my other friend) doesn't even talk to me about transport fare..."
When I said that, I wasn't angry or anything. There wasn't any ill feelings involved in my reply, but somehow, along the way, the same message was interpreted with different connotations when it went into a different pair of ears. So, basically, my friend spat out "Fine!" before stomping off in anger. What a statement to mark the end of our poly years!
Look, I'm just trying to be fair here. I've even reproduced whatever 'criminal evidence' I have over here, to justify my own feelings and this blog entry. Does anyone dare to say IT IS MY BLOODY FUCKING FAULT THAT I MADE YOU MAD!??
I believed that you had entirely no reason at all to be mad, and I still do. If there's anyone at all that should be offended, it should be ME. Why is my friend splitting hairs over meager transport fares with me? I simply cannot fathom. If my friend needs to pass me a CD that I need urgently for my work, does she ask me to pay $2.35 for her bus rides? Once again, I'm just trying to be fair, and asking you to see reason, not the colour of red.
Ok, so after the whole affair was over, with me emerging with a million question minds invading my brain for domination, my other friend actually remarked to me, "See lah, you make her pissed..." before giving me a disapproving look.
At that time, the words didn't register in my head. I heard it, but the words didn't really sink in. It was only when dusk fell, when the words truly registered. AGAIN, I AM ASKING THE BOTH OF YOU TO BE FAIR HERE, ASK YOU OWN CONSCIENCE, IS IT FAIR TO BLAME IT ON ME?
They say that in ANY argument, BOTH parties have to be blame. Seriously, FUCK LAH, I CAN'T SEE ANY REASON AT ALL WHY I SHOULD BE BLAMED. Can anyone please enlighten me as to how I should be blamed because I seriously don't see where my fault in this whole saga lies?
IF YOU FUCKING TELL ME THAT YOU HAVE PMS, THAT YOU ARE NOT IN A GOOD MENTAL STATE, THAT YOU ARE NOT FEELING TOO GOOD ON THAT DAY, THAT YOU ARE NOT FEELING TOO GOOD BECAUSE SOMEONE CLOSE TO YOU IS NOT IN A GOOD PHYSICAL STATE, THEN FINE. I am not an unreasonable person, and I can close an eye. But, THE LEAST I FUCKING DESERVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT AND SUCH DISAPPROVING GLANCES FROM MY FRIEND IS A FUCKING EXPLANATION. I don't want to glide over such stuff...because I'm feeling very tired...THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME!!!!!!!!
If I don't speak out now BECAUSE OF FEAR, AFRAID TO HURT OTHERS' FEELINGS AFRAID OF THIS, AFRAID OF THAT, ONE DAY I'M GONNA LOSE MY VOICE.
please, I'm just trying to find back my voice, words with buckets of emotions that would otherwise have gone missing without this blog.
p/s. if after reading this entry, you still think that you're in the right, then please have a good life ahead of you. but the last thing I need right now is to lose another friend.
Friday, March 23, 2007
two dramas in one day.
SCHOOL
What's worse than having the entire class ganged up against you in a never-seen before unity? To enter the classroom only to see the drama subsiding into hushed-up tones, fidgety eyes and awkward body movements? Or to see a bunched-up circle suddenly disperse in an unspoken compliance?
So that's basically what I witnessed in class today. The victim being a fellow classmate. Apparently, he told more lies than The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and was finally exposed by another fellow classmate.
Well, as you all know, rumours spread faster than wildfire, and soon our classmates were all talking about him and his lies. Buddies turned their backs against him, and his attempts at striking up a conversation with fellow classmates were either met with silence deadlier than a tombstone, or an emphatic 'no'.
Hardly two days passed, and soon most of the class weren't speaking to him. But, boy did they speak about him!
So, I was sitting in class today minding my own business as usual, and an informal gathering formed behind me.
They started updating each other about his lies, the tales he spun that had the naivety of some of us tightly warped around his web of deception. Not forgetting modern technology, they chalked up bandwidth space searching for his not-so-elusive nick on the web. Then, they laughed with maniacal glee and called him "dumb!" for not able to conceal his lies adequately.
They talked about trailing him, and speculated about his home address. One of the guys in the class said that no one had ever been to his house before, and they always said their good-byes at a bus-stop. Is this his own pathetic way of concealing his lies? They wondered.
Another opined, "Haha, everyone that I'm not close to and never talk to last time, like XX, YY and ZZ, suddenly all come up and talk to me. (Laughs)"
"Haha, what a way to bond the class together man!"
Isn't it ironic? It takes a lying, deceptive fellow classmate to bond the class? Like how a near-death accident suddenly reconciliate you to the fact that you should be thankful you are even alive?
And, this guy suddenly sprung into the class and jokingly quipped, "Quick, everyone disperse! He's coming!" before breaking out into a series of delirious laughter. "Hahaha, just joking!"
Do you know how I felt through all this drama? All I felt was a crushing sick feeling that compressed the insides of my stomach. All these people, who were good friends with him, whom stuck to him like super glue just days ago, whose friendship were for all to witness, suddenly turned their backs against him! Ganging up with people they've hardly spoken more than two sentences to the whole semester to gossip about him, poke ribbing fun at him, and helped to uncover his lies, peeling off the layers and layers of his deception, until they saw the true self that lay beneath that charade.
People whom he had hung out with, spend countless nights catching movies followed by dinner with, THESE WERE THE FUCKING SAME PEOPLE WHO WERE SENDING SMSES TO FELLOW CLASSMATES WHO WERE VIRTUALLY NON-EXISTENT TO THEM JUST THREE DAYS AGO, SHARING THE LATEST UPDATES ABOUT HIM, SPYING ON HIM, THEN GLOATING OVER THAT EXPOSED LIE AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS DIGNITY.
AND, SOME OF THESE FUCKING PEOPLE (THE RARE FEW, WHO STILL BOTHERED TO TALK TO HIM AT ALL) WERE TALKING AND SMILING TO HIM MINUTES AGO, AND THE NEXT WHEN HIS BACK WAS TURNED, THEY CONGREGATED AMONG THEMSELVES. DEBUNKING HIS MYTHS. HIS LIES.
Listening to their relentless mocking of him, I had a sudden urge, a temptation to scream my lungs out at them, but my cowardice made me swallow my words. My fear made me withdraw those words that jostled to meet their acquaintance with the airborne atmosphere, like an ostrich burying its head into the sand. Instead, I screamed inwardly, until I lost all sensory images and all I could see were despair. despair. despair.
And, I was thinking to myself, I wouldn't EVER take part or have anything to do with their plans of exposing him further. And, when they asked me stuff, all I did was shook my head. Couldn't speak. Didn't want to speak. Didn't want to have anything to do with it. Then, this two-faced 'friend' of mine went up to my friends and filled them in on their involvement in their so-called ingenious plan to expose his lies, by supposedly staging a 'fight'. And, I were thinking that me and my friends would be the LAST to get involve in this deceit. But, apparently, the truth is further from reality. I wouldn't know if me myself would succumb to peer pressure to get involved in questionable morals antics.
Of course, I wouldn't say that person is TOTALLY innocent. Yes, he told more lies than the boy whose lies caused him to get the sheeps that he reared killed. But, if I were them, I wouldn't trail him and spy on him. I would go up to him and confront him. Would he admit? Would he not? I wouldn't know, but his stunted facial expressions may tell more than any amount of Google-ing you spend in front of that computer.
HOME
Went home, thought that shit had happened to me. But, apparently, shit can strike you TWICE on the very same day.
I was surfing the net when my cursor accidentally clicked on a button from the top left hand corner. A browser opened and I saw that it was my sister's website. I was curious, because I had seen her building up that website from scratch, and thus wanted to see her forum postings.
So, I was just leisurely browsing through the website, when I chanced upon this drawing that looked VERY SUSPICIOUSLY FAMILIAR!
And, then it dawned on me that it was a drawing of my super talented artist friend!
OK..THIS IS WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED. MY SISTER 'STOLE' MY FRIEND'S DRAWING, PUT IT ON HER OWN WEBSITE, AND PASSED IT OFF AS HER OWN!!! AND, ON TOP OF THAT, MY SISTER HAD SIGNED HER OWN SIGNATURE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PICTURE, THEREBY 'CLAIMING' THAT THE PICTURE WAS HERS...!
I was outraged at this sort of blatant plagiarism by my own sister! And, so I confronted her...
ME: Hey, did you see my friend's drawing? The sketches that she drew for me in a black book?
HER: Yeah, it's upstairs.
ME: Oh, so did you use it for anything? Any purpose?
HER: (adamantly) NO.
ME: Really?
HER: (looks at me quizzically) NO.
She was very insistent, and no matter how much I pressed to make her confess before I blew her cover, all I got from her for a reply was an emphatic 'NO."
ME: (finally exasperated) So you are saying that you DID NOT take my friend's drawing, post it online and passed it off as your own?
HER: (looks at me shockingly, followed by indignation and finally, anger) You were snooping through my stuff?
ME: No. I just accidentally clicked on the button that led me to your website. But, that's not the POINT! THE POINT IS THAT YOU TOOK MY FRIEND'S DRAWING, WITHOUT HER PERMISSION, POSTED IT ONLINE AND CLAIMED THAT IT WAS YOUR OWN DRAWING! HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?!!
My sister burst into tears and started crying non-stop, which for an outsider looking in, could mistake me for the bully and her the innocent victim. So, as tears streamed down my sister's cheeks, I demanded an explanation.
Finally, after repeating things like she knew she was in the wrong, but how could I snoop through her stuff...I've just ruined her life, it's not like she wanted it blah blah blah and all that shit...she finally told me why the fucking hell she did it.
"BECAUSE IF I DIDN'T DO IT, I WOULD HAVE NO FRIENDS!"
ME: "So what does that say about your friendship?"
HER: "I WOULD RATHER HAVE FAKE FRIENDS THAN NO FRIENDS!"
OK, this is her explanation. Apparently, it was her friend's idea that she ripped my friend's design and pass it off as her own. I think it's to garner more hits or something. So, according to her, if she doesn't do as her friends say, they wouldn't be too happy and my sister risked losing their friendship as well. Which terrified her to the extent that she did as they suggested. Proto.
"Besides, only 6 people saw the design. And, I thought you wouldn't find out about it!"
"Yes, but whether it's 1 person who sees it or a million, ripping off people's designs and passing them off as your own is still not right! My friend could sue you and you could go to jail for plagiarism, you know!"
My sister wept and said that she knew she was in the wrong, and then said, "Please don't tell your friend about it." And then, more grudgingly, "I will take down the design and explain the situation to my friends OK? So don't tell your friend about it."
My reply? "But, wouldn't you risk losing your friends?"
"Yeah!" she spat. "But, since now that you've found out, I don't have a choice."
ME: "So, what would you do if you were to lose your friends?"
HER: "Commit suicide."
ME: "Yeah, so see? Don't tell your friends, no need to take down that design, just keep your friends OK?"
HER: "Argh...(Sighs) But, it's not like I will REALLY go and commit suicide RIGHT. But, I'll take a chance and tell them about it, and maybe they will still be willing to be my friends."
ME: "And, if they don't? Then, tell me, how important are your friends to you?"
HER: "VERY. MY FRIENDS ARE MY LIFE!"
ME: "More important than.....? Who or what?"
"I see them more than I see you!" was her reply. So I'm supposed to know her answer..
ME: "OK. So, let's say that tomorrow school is closed forever. Would your friends still be your top priority, more important than anyone else and everything else, or would they fade into nothingness to you?"
HER: Fade into nothingness."
Well, halfway through the argument, I asked her why instead of all those phony friendships she surrounded herself with, she didn't make friends with those nice people in her class.
She said that most of the people in her class were phony, and there were only a grand total of THREE nice people in her class, according to her.
"So, why don't you make friends with those nice people in your class?"
"Because they don't talk! They hardly say a word, how to make friends with them? The most they speak like -what?- three sentences, then they go back to their desks."
"WTF?!!! You mean there are people around who can give me a run for my money ar?!!!"
And to think I thought I was FORMIDABLE.
What's worse than having the entire class ganged up against you in a never-seen before unity? To enter the classroom only to see the drama subsiding into hushed-up tones, fidgety eyes and awkward body movements? Or to see a bunched-up circle suddenly disperse in an unspoken compliance?
So that's basically what I witnessed in class today. The victim being a fellow classmate. Apparently, he told more lies than The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and was finally exposed by another fellow classmate.
Well, as you all know, rumours spread faster than wildfire, and soon our classmates were all talking about him and his lies. Buddies turned their backs against him, and his attempts at striking up a conversation with fellow classmates were either met with silence deadlier than a tombstone, or an emphatic 'no'.
Hardly two days passed, and soon most of the class weren't speaking to him. But, boy did they speak about him!
So, I was sitting in class today minding my own business as usual, and an informal gathering formed behind me.
They started updating each other about his lies, the tales he spun that had the naivety of some of us tightly warped around his web of deception. Not forgetting modern technology, they chalked up bandwidth space searching for his not-so-elusive nick on the web. Then, they laughed with maniacal glee and called him "dumb!" for not able to conceal his lies adequately.
They talked about trailing him, and speculated about his home address. One of the guys in the class said that no one had ever been to his house before, and they always said their good-byes at a bus-stop. Is this his own pathetic way of concealing his lies? They wondered.
Another opined, "Haha, everyone that I'm not close to and never talk to last time, like XX, YY and ZZ, suddenly all come up and talk to me. (Laughs)"
"Haha, what a way to bond the class together man!"
Isn't it ironic? It takes a lying, deceptive fellow classmate to bond the class? Like how a near-death accident suddenly reconciliate you to the fact that you should be thankful you are even alive?
And, this guy suddenly sprung into the class and jokingly quipped, "Quick, everyone disperse! He's coming!" before breaking out into a series of delirious laughter. "Hahaha, just joking!"
Do you know how I felt through all this drama? All I felt was a crushing sick feeling that compressed the insides of my stomach. All these people, who were good friends with him, whom stuck to him like super glue just days ago, whose friendship were for all to witness, suddenly turned their backs against him! Ganging up with people they've hardly spoken more than two sentences to the whole semester to gossip about him, poke ribbing fun at him, and helped to uncover his lies, peeling off the layers and layers of his deception, until they saw the true self that lay beneath that charade.
People whom he had hung out with, spend countless nights catching movies followed by dinner with, THESE WERE THE FUCKING SAME PEOPLE WHO WERE SENDING SMSES TO FELLOW CLASSMATES WHO WERE VIRTUALLY NON-EXISTENT TO THEM JUST THREE DAYS AGO, SHARING THE LATEST UPDATES ABOUT HIM, SPYING ON HIM, THEN GLOATING OVER THAT EXPOSED LIE AT THE EXPENSE OF HIS DIGNITY.
AND, SOME OF THESE FUCKING PEOPLE (THE RARE FEW, WHO STILL BOTHERED TO TALK TO HIM AT ALL) WERE TALKING AND SMILING TO HIM MINUTES AGO, AND THE NEXT WHEN HIS BACK WAS TURNED, THEY CONGREGATED AMONG THEMSELVES. DEBUNKING HIS MYTHS. HIS LIES.
Listening to their relentless mocking of him, I had a sudden urge, a temptation to scream my lungs out at them, but my cowardice made me swallow my words. My fear made me withdraw those words that jostled to meet their acquaintance with the airborne atmosphere, like an ostrich burying its head into the sand. Instead, I screamed inwardly, until I lost all sensory images and all I could see were despair. despair. despair.
And, I was thinking to myself, I wouldn't EVER take part or have anything to do with their plans of exposing him further. And, when they asked me stuff, all I did was shook my head. Couldn't speak. Didn't want to speak. Didn't want to have anything to do with it. Then, this two-faced 'friend' of mine went up to my friends and filled them in on their involvement in their so-called ingenious plan to expose his lies, by supposedly staging a 'fight'. And, I were thinking that me and my friends would be the LAST to get involve in this deceit. But, apparently, the truth is further from reality. I wouldn't know if me myself would succumb to peer pressure to get involved in questionable morals antics.
Of course, I wouldn't say that person is TOTALLY innocent. Yes, he told more lies than the boy whose lies caused him to get the sheeps that he reared killed. But, if I were them, I wouldn't trail him and spy on him. I would go up to him and confront him. Would he admit? Would he not? I wouldn't know, but his stunted facial expressions may tell more than any amount of Google-ing you spend in front of that computer.
HOME
Went home, thought that shit had happened to me. But, apparently, shit can strike you TWICE on the very same day.
I was surfing the net when my cursor accidentally clicked on a button from the top left hand corner. A browser opened and I saw that it was my sister's website. I was curious, because I had seen her building up that website from scratch, and thus wanted to see her forum postings.
So, I was just leisurely browsing through the website, when I chanced upon this drawing that looked VERY SUSPICIOUSLY FAMILIAR!
And, then it dawned on me that it was a drawing of my super talented artist friend!
OK..THIS IS WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED. MY SISTER 'STOLE' MY FRIEND'S DRAWING, PUT IT ON HER OWN WEBSITE, AND PASSED IT OFF AS HER OWN!!! AND, ON TOP OF THAT, MY SISTER HAD SIGNED HER OWN SIGNATURE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PICTURE, THEREBY 'CLAIMING' THAT THE PICTURE WAS HERS...!
I was outraged at this sort of blatant plagiarism by my own sister! And, so I confronted her...
ME: Hey, did you see my friend's drawing? The sketches that she drew for me in a black book?
HER: Yeah, it's upstairs.
ME: Oh, so did you use it for anything? Any purpose?
HER: (adamantly) NO.
ME: Really?
HER: (looks at me quizzically) NO.
She was very insistent, and no matter how much I pressed to make her confess before I blew her cover, all I got from her for a reply was an emphatic 'NO."
ME: (finally exasperated) So you are saying that you DID NOT take my friend's drawing, post it online and passed it off as your own?
HER: (looks at me shockingly, followed by indignation and finally, anger) You were snooping through my stuff?
ME: No. I just accidentally clicked on the button that led me to your website. But, that's not the POINT! THE POINT IS THAT YOU TOOK MY FRIEND'S DRAWING, WITHOUT HER PERMISSION, POSTED IT ONLINE AND CLAIMED THAT IT WAS YOUR OWN DRAWING! HOW COULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?!!
My sister burst into tears and started crying non-stop, which for an outsider looking in, could mistake me for the bully and her the innocent victim. So, as tears streamed down my sister's cheeks, I demanded an explanation.
Finally, after repeating things like she knew she was in the wrong, but how could I snoop through her stuff...I've just ruined her life, it's not like she wanted it blah blah blah and all that shit...she finally told me why the fucking hell she did it.
"BECAUSE IF I DIDN'T DO IT, I WOULD HAVE NO FRIENDS!"
ME: "So what does that say about your friendship?"
HER: "I WOULD RATHER HAVE FAKE FRIENDS THAN NO FRIENDS!"
OK, this is her explanation. Apparently, it was her friend's idea that she ripped my friend's design and pass it off as her own. I think it's to garner more hits or something. So, according to her, if she doesn't do as her friends say, they wouldn't be too happy and my sister risked losing their friendship as well. Which terrified her to the extent that she did as they suggested. Proto.
"Besides, only 6 people saw the design. And, I thought you wouldn't find out about it!"
"Yes, but whether it's 1 person who sees it or a million, ripping off people's designs and passing them off as your own is still not right! My friend could sue you and you could go to jail for plagiarism, you know!"
My sister wept and said that she knew she was in the wrong, and then said, "Please don't tell your friend about it." And then, more grudgingly, "I will take down the design and explain the situation to my friends OK? So don't tell your friend about it."
My reply? "But, wouldn't you risk losing your friends?"
"Yeah!" she spat. "But, since now that you've found out, I don't have a choice."
ME: "So, what would you do if you were to lose your friends?"
HER: "Commit suicide."
ME: "Yeah, so see? Don't tell your friends, no need to take down that design, just keep your friends OK?"
HER: "Argh...(Sighs) But, it's not like I will REALLY go and commit suicide RIGHT. But, I'll take a chance and tell them about it, and maybe they will still be willing to be my friends."
ME: "And, if they don't? Then, tell me, how important are your friends to you?"
HER: "VERY. MY FRIENDS ARE MY LIFE!"
ME: "More important than.....? Who or what?"
"I see them more than I see you!" was her reply. So I'm supposed to know her answer..
ME: "OK. So, let's say that tomorrow school is closed forever. Would your friends still be your top priority, more important than anyone else and everything else, or would they fade into nothingness to you?"
HER: Fade into nothingness."
Well, halfway through the argument, I asked her why instead of all those phony friendships she surrounded herself with, she didn't make friends with those nice people in her class.
She said that most of the people in her class were phony, and there were only a grand total of THREE nice people in her class, according to her.
"So, why don't you make friends with those nice people in your class?"
"Because they don't talk! They hardly say a word, how to make friends with them? The most they speak like -what?- three sentences, then they go back to their desks."
"WTF?!!! You mean there are people around who can give me a run for my money ar?!!!"
And to think I thought I was FORMIDABLE.
Friday, March 16, 2007
my therapy. my pain.
But today I've realized that I've lived my life
with too many words left unsaid
emotions that will never be enunciated
but I'm finding it harder to remain silent
with too many words left unsaid
emotions that will never be enunciated
but I'm finding it harder to remain silent
You made me on the verge of breaking down today
threatening to let my sorrow engulf me
to let my tears swallow me whole
But I tried again and again
to understand your intentions
but again and again
you take advantage of my silentness
how much longer can i hold my piece?
threatening to let my sorrow engulf me
to let my tears swallow me whole
But I tried again and again
to understand your intentions
but again and again
you take advantage of my silentness
how much longer can i hold my piece?
Some people never realize that they've left a hole deeper than a bullet shot in my heart with their careless words. Do you ever go through the words in your brain before you enunciate each vowel, before each cruel remark of yours leap off your unrestrained lips? The last thing I need now is any sort of conflict, so I shall just play along with you. But don't forget what you said to me in class today, that made a tear or two drop.
and yet my hurt remained an unresolved enigma
as the piercing scanting words of yours
left denting impressions on my heart,
like an iron pressing against flesh
and threatened to combat with my emotions
I'm on a solitary battle
and i want to surrender
before I end up with more bruises
and the eternal hurt in my heart
Someone once said that one will never know whether I'm feeling down, because I look forever morose, so it wouldn't make any difference. Many times, I choose not to let my emotions show, so as not to worry those around me. But, apparently, it didn't make any difference to them. A fortune teller once said to me that I can spend my entire life trying to smile, but my fate dictates that I am destined to have a gloomy face that more often than not, doesn't reflect my actual feelings. I like to think of myself as a happy-go-lucky person, there aren't many things that ruffle my feathers, and I'm happy as long as I'm not unhappy. But, when can I stop telling myself that it's OK, when it's not? When can I stop hallucinating a better tomorrow, when my tomorrow paints such a gloomy picture?
Really, how many would have seen the tears that created a stirring pandemonium in me today? I'm increasingly finding it difficult to deal with such blatant display of favouritism.
Two more weeks
and my misery in hell is gonna be writing its final statement.
p.s. don't remind me anything about this, otherwise I will never forgive you.
as the piercing scanting words of yours
left denting impressions on my heart,
like an iron pressing against flesh
and threatened to combat with my emotions
I'm on a solitary battle
and i want to surrender
before I end up with more bruises
and the eternal hurt in my heart
Someone once said that one will never know whether I'm feeling down, because I look forever morose, so it wouldn't make any difference. Many times, I choose not to let my emotions show, so as not to worry those around me. But, apparently, it didn't make any difference to them. A fortune teller once said to me that I can spend my entire life trying to smile, but my fate dictates that I am destined to have a gloomy face that more often than not, doesn't reflect my actual feelings. I like to think of myself as a happy-go-lucky person, there aren't many things that ruffle my feathers, and I'm happy as long as I'm not unhappy. But, when can I stop telling myself that it's OK, when it's not? When can I stop hallucinating a better tomorrow, when my tomorrow paints such a gloomy picture?
Really, how many would have seen the tears that created a stirring pandemonium in me today? I'm increasingly finding it difficult to deal with such blatant display of favouritism.
Two more weeks
and my misery in hell is gonna be writing its final statement.
p.s. don't remind me anything about this, otherwise I will never forgive you.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Have you ever felt like you did something good, but out of fail of reprimandation from the other party, you kept it to yourself?
Even when the truth is swallowing you, even when the secret is playing on your lips, waiting to be enunciated into verbal vowels, you still manage to swallow the words forcefully?
And then the pang of guilt hits you.
And, when the other party starts pinpointing at you with a whole litany of accusations.
How did something so beautiful, a care and concern, turn into something so ugly?
I simply cannot comprehend.
If your motive is to make me feel guilty, sad, depressed, choked up and a whole lot of other unexplainable emotions that verge on suicidal thoughts,
Congrautulations, you've succeeded.
Even when the truth is swallowing you, even when the secret is playing on your lips, waiting to be enunciated into verbal vowels, you still manage to swallow the words forcefully?
And then the pang of guilt hits you.
And, when the other party starts pinpointing at you with a whole litany of accusations.
How did something so beautiful, a care and concern, turn into something so ugly?
I simply cannot comprehend.
If your motive is to make me feel guilty, sad, depressed, choked up and a whole lot of other unexplainable emotions that verge on suicidal thoughts,
Congrautulations, you've succeeded.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Angela Zhang @ Dragonfly, St. James Power Station
In today's Mandopop scene, filled to the brim with undeserving female artistes who pull a sweet, saccharine charade and belt out listener-friendly tunes with weak, constrained vocals, Angela Zhang is a refreshing change.
Despite her petite frame, this nubile nymph is well-known for her strong vocals, reaching all the high pitch with slick effortless.
I met this guy while queuing outside the event venue. Apparently, he had been idol-chasing, following Angela all the way from the airport the morning before till her showcase @ Dragonfly the following day.
"You should have gone to the airport," He told a few of us, "There were no supporters there...except for two pathetic creatures..." He was, presumably, talking about himself and his friend.
I asked him a few trite questions. Well, he said that he trailed Angela all the way from her arrival at Changi Airport...He told us that Angela emerged from an interview with Yes 933 at a few minutes past midnight on the same day of arrival, after which, she headed to a flower shop in Geylang...She didn't do much shopping during her trip here though, presumably due to her tight schedule, piled with media interviews etc.
Anyway, the following day, he told us that Angela didn't even step out of the hotel for the entire morning, till her showcase, where she reached the venue at 3.30pm, an hour earlier than the stated performance time. Still, the event was delayed.
According to him, Angela wasn't as friendly compared to other artistes. "Other artistes would take the initiative to come up and take a photo with you, but for Angela...(shakes head emphatically) it's hard!"
He continued, "I followed her from yesterday till today...and I didn't even get to speak to her for more than 20 sentences!"
Least any of you think that he's a big-time supporter or fan of Angela, the guy states simply, "I'm doing it for fun lor! It's my first time chasing Angela."
Some people were mistaken, and thought that Angela had cut her hair to above shoulder length...Look closely, and you will realize that she actually had her hair bunned up such that the it curled beneath her visible tresses.
After going to so many autograph sessions and fans gathering, I realize that a single huge problem artistes have today during their private or public performances or gatherings is that...the fans won't stop talking pictures with their cameras! The flash lights emitted from the cameras unceasingly created flickering shadows upon the artistes' faces, which can make them feel uncomfortable. Very soon, a private fans gathering session can turn into a press conference for the media.
Halfway through the event, Angela said in a tight voice with a hint of exasperation, "你们不要只顾着拍照嘛！跟我一起唱好吗？难得我来新加坡嘛。。。然后你们只顾着一直拍照。"
Translation: "Don't get so absorbed in just thinking photos mah, sing along together with me ok? It's so rare that I get to come to Singapore...and you people just keep taking pictures..."
There was a mini furore among the audience, who cleverly retorted, "It's precisely because it's rare that you get to come to Singapore mah, that's why we must take more pictures!"
Angela 只是淡淡的笑，感觉有点勉强。After which, she did a "peace sign" (see above picture, bottom right) for the audience to snap photos of her. The crowd went into a frenzied state of trigger-happiness.
Despite her petite frame, this nubile nymph is well-known for her strong vocals, reaching all the high pitch with slick effortless.
I met this guy while queuing outside the event venue. Apparently, he had been idol-chasing, following Angela all the way from the airport the morning before till her showcase @ Dragonfly the following day.
"You should have gone to the airport," He told a few of us, "There were no supporters there...except for two pathetic creatures..." He was, presumably, talking about himself and his friend.
I asked him a few trite questions. Well, he said that he trailed Angela all the way from her arrival at Changi Airport...He told us that Angela emerged from an interview with Yes 933 at a few minutes past midnight on the same day of arrival, after which, she headed to a flower shop in Geylang...She didn't do much shopping during her trip here though, presumably due to her tight schedule, piled with media interviews etc.
Anyway, the following day, he told us that Angela didn't even step out of the hotel for the entire morning, till her showcase, where she reached the venue at 3.30pm, an hour earlier than the stated performance time. Still, the event was delayed.
According to him, Angela wasn't as friendly compared to other artistes. "Other artistes would take the initiative to come up and take a photo with you, but for Angela...(shakes head emphatically) it's hard!"
He continued, "I followed her from yesterday till today...and I didn't even get to speak to her for more than 20 sentences!"
Least any of you think that he's a big-time supporter or fan of Angela, the guy states simply, "I'm doing it for fun lor! It's my first time chasing Angela."
Some people were mistaken, and thought that Angela had cut her hair to above shoulder length...Look closely, and you will realize that she actually had her hair bunned up such that the it curled beneath her visible tresses.
After going to so many autograph sessions and fans gathering, I realize that a single huge problem artistes have today during their private or public performances or gatherings is that...the fans won't stop talking pictures with their cameras! The flash lights emitted from the cameras unceasingly created flickering shadows upon the artistes' faces, which can make them feel uncomfortable. Very soon, a private fans gathering session can turn into a press conference for the media.
Halfway through the event, Angela said in a tight voice with a hint of exasperation, "你们不要只顾着拍照嘛！跟我一起唱好吗？难得我来新加坡嘛。。。然后你们只顾着一直拍照。"
Translation: "Don't get so absorbed in just thinking photos mah, sing along together with me ok? It's so rare that I get to come to Singapore...and you people just keep taking pictures..."
There was a mini furore among the audience, who cleverly retorted, "It's precisely because it's rare that you get to come to Singapore mah, that's why we must take more pictures!"
Angela 只是淡淡的笑，感觉有点勉强。After which, she did a "peace sign" (see above picture, bottom right) for the audience to snap photos of her. The crowd went into a frenzied state of trigger-happiness.
Friday, March 09, 2007
就算你再等十年，他也不会喜欢你的。
这就是我的一位朋友跟我说的。
当时的感觉是恍然及一丝丝的愤怒。
当那些刺耳的文字像糖在水里面溶化，衬垫了以后，那种痛仿佛淹没了我所有的理智，那种痛像是长在玫瑰花的刺一字字的刺进我的脑细胞，让我一下子被一涌的情绪冲昏了头；及是悲伤，愤怒，感慨，最后就是无奈，害怕，恐惧。。。
是这样吗？
我一直认为自己是一个很理智的人。然而，就像别人说结婚是爱情的坟墓，我的单恋也即将演变成我爱情故事的完结篇吗？
许多人认为我对他的爱只是一场游戏，因为他们的想法都很客套，我不可能喜欢上一个我完全没有面对面讲过话的人。
当是，真的，我爱上了一个陌生人。
难怪人家会怀疑我对他的爱。
看起来像是很便宜的冒牌货吧，
撕开来才发现是血淋淋的真心。
你知道吗？
我情绪的遥控器由他操控，我的开心，伤心，难过，悲伤，
因为他的开心，伤心，难过，悲伤。
我每看他一次，心就痛一次。
因为我们之间像海洋一样庞大的的距离因为他的身份，地位被拉长了。
但，也因为他的身份让我认识了他。
若这一切真的单纯只是一场游戏，那游戏的规则可能就如我朋友所说的一样，“就算你再等十年，他也不会喜欢你的。”
当时的感觉是恍然及一丝丝的愤怒。
当那些刺耳的文字像糖在水里面溶化，衬垫了以后，那种痛仿佛淹没了我所有的理智，那种痛像是长在玫瑰花的刺一字字的刺进我的脑细胞，让我一下子被一涌的情绪冲昏了头；及是悲伤，愤怒，感慨，最后就是无奈，害怕，恐惧。。。
是这样吗？
我一直认为自己是一个很理智的人。然而，就像别人说结婚是爱情的坟墓，我的单恋也即将演变成我爱情故事的完结篇吗？
许多人认为我对他的爱只是一场游戏，因为他们的想法都很客套，我不可能喜欢上一个我完全没有面对面讲过话的人。
当是，真的，我爱上了一个陌生人。
难怪人家会怀疑我对他的爱。
看起来像是很便宜的冒牌货吧，
撕开来才发现是血淋淋的真心。
你知道吗？
我情绪的遥控器由他操控，我的开心，伤心，难过，悲伤，
因为他的开心，伤心，难过，悲伤。
我每看他一次，心就痛一次。
因为我们之间像海洋一样庞大的的距离因为他的身份，地位被拉长了。
但，也因为他的身份让我认识了他。
若这一切真的单纯只是一场游戏，那游戏的规则可能就如我朋友所说的一样，“就算你再等十年，他也不会喜欢你的。”
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Fakers
They are an ubiquitous presence in our society.
You see them everywhere you go, lurking in the corner, waiting to pounce on you, and most importantly, the company you can affort to dispense like a machine that works on automatic function. They display the sort of hungriness akin to that of a watchful predator.
However, they mostly come to breathing life form in a school, with its trademark cliquey high school students.
I've seen enough of them in my lifetime.
They seek you out like a temporary dispenser when they are alone, seeking companionship in their most solitary moments. The next minute, at shot-gun speed, the moment their friends materialize, they disappear as quickly as they appear.
Far more than saying I despise them, I've always had an awed sense of admiration at the mechanisms of these 'predators'.
How do they do it? I ask myself mentally. How can they so easily gain closeness to someone they've hardly or seldom spoken to? And act like he or she is their new best friend.
How can such superficial display of closeness puts one's heart at peace and ease, knowing very well they are intruding into unrequired territories, encroaching other people's privacies?
My most deeply-seated impression of a 'faker' was in Secondary 2.
The 'victim' was my very close friend.
The 'predator' was a girl whom I hated. Whenever her friend didn't came, she would stick to my friend like an irritating pest. She would disappear the moment her friend came back to class. Since I made my detest towards her relatively known, she made sure to keep out of my way.
Needless to say, I was outraged. How can a living, breathing human being turn on their emotions and feelings like a tap on automatic demand?
Recently, or should I say, right now, I have come face-to-face with another 'faker'.
Her intentions were clear, crystal in fact, from the very beginning.
Someone who didn't even pro-offer a 'Hi' or 'Bye', suddenly came up to me, friendly and all, smiles and all, wanting to be friends with me.
Her intentions became even more obvious, when I found out later that she had gotten into some kind of conflicts with her clique.
I started thinking back about the very first time she approached me.
She started with, "I've been classmates with you for 3 years now, and I've never spoken more than 10 sentences to you." (Intention Made Known No. 1)
(For the note, that wasn't true at all, and I highlighted it out to her that I've been group mates with her for twice now; of course, I deliberately left out the fact that we weren't on good terms and I constantly allowed my dislike for her to surface in a in-yer-face fashion)
I replied something along the lines of how weird it was that people used "10 sentences" to describe the clog in conversation flow between themselves and others, as I vividly remembered a classmate using that exact same phrase on another fellow classmate.
Well, I remembered another friend butting in, "There are surely some people in the class that you don't talk (much) to."
She retorted, "But I don't wish it for things to turn out like this between us." (Intention Made Very Known No. 2)
Of course, as my friends know, my brain works at the speed of a turtle, and I didn't catch any current of underlying meaning then. But, on retrospect, I realized it was her way of wanting to build up a friendship with me...and fast, so that she could have someone to hang out with.
The moment I knew her intention, I withdrew...and fast, like a turtle shrinking its head back into its shell. I didn't appreciate people treating me like a friendship dispenser, oh, press a button and here I come running to be your friend! And, if you don't need our 'friendship', you can just throw it away like a used tissue paper that you have just used to wipe your smelly ass.
Of course, for me to put up a pretense similar to the charade that she is parading, would be SO MUCH EASIER (trust me) than having to repeat similar thoughts such as "That bitch, just using me..."
It would make my life so much easier, but somehow, I can't shrug of such frivolous, valiant attempts targeted at building up a fake 'friendship'.
Such resistance to accept anything other than honesty in a friendship has often got my brain entangled in a bundle of live wires, a knot of nerves...I don't think I can ever undo that mess, because it just discounts the true meaning of friendship, in my opinion.
You see them everywhere you go, lurking in the corner, waiting to pounce on you, and most importantly, the company you can affort to dispense like a machine that works on automatic function. They display the sort of hungriness akin to that of a watchful predator.
However, they mostly come to breathing life form in a school, with its trademark cliquey high school students.
I've seen enough of them in my lifetime.
They seek you out like a temporary dispenser when they are alone, seeking companionship in their most solitary moments. The next minute, at shot-gun speed, the moment their friends materialize, they disappear as quickly as they appear.
Far more than saying I despise them, I've always had an awed sense of admiration at the mechanisms of these 'predators'.
How do they do it? I ask myself mentally. How can they so easily gain closeness to someone they've hardly or seldom spoken to? And act like he or she is their new best friend.
How can such superficial display of closeness puts one's heart at peace and ease, knowing very well they are intruding into unrequired territories, encroaching other people's privacies?
My most deeply-seated impression of a 'faker' was in Secondary 2.
The 'victim' was my very close friend.
The 'predator' was a girl whom I hated. Whenever her friend didn't came, she would stick to my friend like an irritating pest. She would disappear the moment her friend came back to class. Since I made my detest towards her relatively known, she made sure to keep out of my way.
Needless to say, I was outraged. How can a living, breathing human being turn on their emotions and feelings like a tap on automatic demand?
Recently, or should I say, right now, I have come face-to-face with another 'faker'.
Her intentions were clear, crystal in fact, from the very beginning.
Someone who didn't even pro-offer a 'Hi' or 'Bye', suddenly came up to me, friendly and all, smiles and all, wanting to be friends with me.
Her intentions became even more obvious, when I found out later that she had gotten into some kind of conflicts with her clique.
I started thinking back about the very first time she approached me.
She started with, "I've been classmates with you for 3 years now, and I've never spoken more than 10 sentences to you." (Intention Made Known No. 1)
(For the note, that wasn't true at all, and I highlighted it out to her that I've been group mates with her for twice now; of course, I deliberately left out the fact that we weren't on good terms and I constantly allowed my dislike for her to surface in a in-yer-face fashion)
I replied something along the lines of how weird it was that people used "10 sentences" to describe the clog in conversation flow between themselves and others, as I vividly remembered a classmate using that exact same phrase on another fellow classmate.
Well, I remembered another friend butting in, "There are surely some people in the class that you don't talk (much) to."
She retorted, "But I don't wish it for things to turn out like this between us." (Intention Made Very Known No. 2)
Of course, as my friends know, my brain works at the speed of a turtle, and I didn't catch any current of underlying meaning then. But, on retrospect, I realized it was her way of wanting to build up a friendship with me...and fast, so that she could have someone to hang out with.
The moment I knew her intention, I withdrew...and fast, like a turtle shrinking its head back into its shell. I didn't appreciate people treating me like a friendship dispenser, oh, press a button and here I come running to be your friend! And, if you don't need our 'friendship', you can just throw it away like a used tissue paper that you have just used to wipe your smelly ass.
Of course, for me to put up a pretense similar to the charade that she is parading, would be SO MUCH EASIER (trust me) than having to repeat similar thoughts such as "That bitch, just using me..."
It would make my life so much easier, but somehow, I can't shrug of such frivolous, valiant attempts targeted at building up a fake 'friendship'.
Such resistance to accept anything other than honesty in a friendship has often got my brain entangled in a bundle of live wires, a knot of nerves...I don't think I can ever undo that mess, because it just discounts the true meaning of friendship, in my opinion.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Like A Puppet
I feel that all of us are like puppets living in this society, the master controlling the strings, being the all-encompassing wealth, social status etc.
The jaded average man blindly follows the system like a marionette.
This system is powered by social norms, which is in turn, fueled by mainstream media.
Earn more Money, says the system, Buy a House, Get a Car, Get a Platinum Credit Card, Get a Condo...
So the man finds himself slogging his guts out to accumulate credit points for his wealth and prestige...
Have you made your first million? The system asks.
The man blindly assumes with steel-laden conviction that the depth of his pockets is the reason for his existence. He works longs hours and finally at the age of 30, he earns his first million.
He promptly reports back to the system. Society begins to worship him, his face is splashed all over newspapers and magazines for the next unsuspecting victim to fall prey.
He sold his soul to money, and spent a lifetime in slavery.
How many of us are like the example of the man given above without even realizing it?
We are so ensconced securely in our comfort zone, that we work our butts off to achieve what society expects of us.
Other times, we merely follow the 'tide' blindly out of fear, because we're afraid of 'drowning' ourselves by going against the 'tide'. So, we conform to it and decide that the chosen path is the best route for oneself.
In our society, money is what defines a man. Because we live in a fucked-up system, one that sucks up to the rich and famous and conveniently disregards the plight of the less fortunate.
While heaping junk praise on that famous and beautiful Hollywood movie star or that high-flying achiever, do you stop to ply the roadside sweeper with the kind of sweet talk layered with over-flowing diabete-inducing sweetener?
The answer is no.
Simply because someone of such lowly status is undeserving of any praise or appreciation.
NOT WORTH THE EFFORT!
WHAT WOULD I GET IN RETURN?!
He's just some nameless dude on the streets.
Can you imagine? Paris Hilton gets to pocket US$1m just for making a public appearance at an event to WAVE!
In the hotel heiress's own words, "ALL I HAD TO FUCKING DO WAS WAVE!"
(I added in the bold words for extra effect.)
Now that sum of money would be enough to feed a whole Third-World nation, wouldn't it?
But, instead it gets into Paris Hilton's gold-rimmed bank account, instead of translating into food on the table for poor, starving African children.
It's a funny, unbalanced world out there.
Yet, it isn't as simple as flushing this sort of mentality out of our system.
It has to do with society again, and it's rapid speed-fire like progress.
Same reasoning why people just has no more time left for manners, apart from the fact that manners doesn't pay your credit card bills.
Is it a good thing then? Having skyscrapers and modern framework sprouting out at a massive rate? Look at the number of heartland malls that are increasing by the days. Gone are the days of the grocery shops, with its crammed and dilapidated conditions. These are slowly but surely being replaced by giant conglomerates, like 7-Eleven and Cheers.
The kindheartedness's of human nature are also slowly being dominated by negative elements of the human heart, like greed and selfishness.
These are basic human traits that have been existing since eons ago, but with the progress of technology, these traits are beginning to surface more and more in everyday life.
Sometimes, in the rapid transit of everyday life, I get lost in a hurricane of monotonous feelings of drone.
I wish life could be a little different, sprinkled with a little excitement, a little surprise, a little of something else...
But, I find myself getting consumed in the tornado of material pursuits, in the chase for that certificate that says you are qualified to become a contributive member of society, more commonly known as 'Diploma' or 'Masters' or 'PhD'.
These are the everyday 'natural disasters' that deserves to be exacerbated from our life, deserves to be extinguished in the similar fashion that a fire is being put out.
Sometimes, I secretly wish society would regress just so that humans' hearts could progress.
The jaded average man blindly follows the system like a marionette.
This system is powered by social norms, which is in turn, fueled by mainstream media.
Earn more Money, says the system, Buy a House, Get a Car, Get a Platinum Credit Card, Get a Condo...
So the man finds himself slogging his guts out to accumulate credit points for his wealth and prestige...
Have you made your first million? The system asks.
The man blindly assumes with steel-laden conviction that the depth of his pockets is the reason for his existence. He works longs hours and finally at the age of 30, he earns his first million.
He promptly reports back to the system. Society begins to worship him, his face is splashed all over newspapers and magazines for the next unsuspecting victim to fall prey.
He sold his soul to money, and spent a lifetime in slavery.
How many of us are like the example of the man given above without even realizing it?
We are so ensconced securely in our comfort zone, that we work our butts off to achieve what society expects of us.
Other times, we merely follow the 'tide' blindly out of fear, because we're afraid of 'drowning' ourselves by going against the 'tide'. So, we conform to it and decide that the chosen path is the best route for oneself.
In our society, money is what defines a man. Because we live in a fucked-up system, one that sucks up to the rich and famous and conveniently disregards the plight of the less fortunate.
While heaping junk praise on that famous and beautiful Hollywood movie star or that high-flying achiever, do you stop to ply the roadside sweeper with the kind of sweet talk layered with over-flowing diabete-inducing sweetener?
The answer is no.
Simply because someone of such lowly status is undeserving of any praise or appreciation.
NOT WORTH THE EFFORT!
WHAT WOULD I GET IN RETURN?!
He's just some nameless dude on the streets.
Can you imagine? Paris Hilton gets to pocket US$1m just for making a public appearance at an event to WAVE!
In the hotel heiress's own words, "ALL I HAD TO FUCKING DO WAS WAVE!"
(I added in the bold words for extra effect.)
Now that sum of money would be enough to feed a whole Third-World nation, wouldn't it?
But, instead it gets into Paris Hilton's gold-rimmed bank account, instead of translating into food on the table for poor, starving African children.
It's a funny, unbalanced world out there.
Yet, it isn't as simple as flushing this sort of mentality out of our system.
It has to do with society again, and it's rapid speed-fire like progress.
Same reasoning why people just has no more time left for manners, apart from the fact that manners doesn't pay your credit card bills.
Is it a good thing then? Having skyscrapers and modern framework sprouting out at a massive rate? Look at the number of heartland malls that are increasing by the days. Gone are the days of the grocery shops, with its crammed and dilapidated conditions. These are slowly but surely being replaced by giant conglomerates, like 7-Eleven and Cheers.
The kindheartedness's of human nature are also slowly being dominated by negative elements of the human heart, like greed and selfishness.
These are basic human traits that have been existing since eons ago, but with the progress of technology, these traits are beginning to surface more and more in everyday life.
Sometimes, in the rapid transit of everyday life, I get lost in a hurricane of monotonous feelings of drone.
I wish life could be a little different, sprinkled with a little excitement, a little surprise, a little of something else...
But, I find myself getting consumed in the tornado of material pursuits, in the chase for that certificate that says you are qualified to become a contributive member of society, more commonly known as 'Diploma' or 'Masters' or 'PhD'.
These are the everyday 'natural disasters' that deserves to be exacerbated from our life, deserves to be extinguished in the similar fashion that a fire is being put out.
Sometimes, I secretly wish society would regress just so that humans' hearts could progress.
At A Crossroads, Unsure
I'm standing at a crossroads, unsure of which direction to go. There are two crafted paths for me to choose, admist a sea of many other nondescript paths.
On the right, there is a signboard that says, "Australia" and on the other is a well-trodden path, filled with potholes of deeply entrenched footprints, that puts me in a category apart from the typical educational route taken by most Singaporeans.
My once brick-hard resolve have dissolved like sugar in a water, leaving behind residues of confidence in my stance.
Of course, this has somewhat to do with comments dished out by friends.
"They throw water bottles at Asians!" said one friend.
I went home and asked my father, "Dad, do they throw water bottles at you?"
"Of course!" My father said, with a nonchalant look on his face. He then told me about how his uncle, a doctor of high qualifications, was discriminated against, just because he was of a different skin colour. The patients refused to be treated by him, and requested for an Aussie.
He continued, "But as long as you stick around with the Asians, it should be alright."
I've never given this much thought, simply because I am well aware that as long as this matter remains in my consciousness, I will never get a good night's sleep. So, constantly, I push it to the back of my mind...
Of course, I'm worried, because for the past 19 years, I've been snugly ensconced in my comfort zone, and I'm not sure I want to encroach such unfamiliar territories.
I'm so adjusted to the calm waters, and right now, I have to step tentatively, one step at a time, into chartered waters..will I drown, be swept away by the high tide of problems awaiting to ambush me at the corner?
Having been a victim of bullying for every single school I've ever been in, the thought of them throwing bottles at yours truly strikes utmost terror in my heart.
I am as sociable as a doormat and as cliquey as a high-school student (Oh, wait, I am one). So, you see, if they throw water bottles at me, I wouldn't even raise an eyebrow and ask, "Why? Why me?" Simply because I portray myself in a way that either 1) has people reclining away from me as though I have contracted Hepatitis B; or 2) throw water bottles at me.
I'm dealt with all sorts of bullies my entire nineteen (and counting) years in existence.
While other students my age were busy studying for their upcoming History test or nursing a crush on some cute guy or bugging teachers for hints for upcoming tests and exams, I was doing all three; while fighting with ah-lians, throwing shutter-cocks at their faces, fending off untrue rumours about myself spreading around like wildfire (no thanks to those ah-lians) and clogging up brain space devising all sorts of revenge methods.
The classic one was when one ah-lian started lurching into a litany of complaints against me, all while making sure that I was in ear-shot distance.
I vividly remember walking up to her table, taking up her assignments and crunching them up into a ball before I threw it to the ground in exultation. And, when she shouted at me (can't remember what), I turned to my friend sitting next to me and asked, "Did you hear a dog barking?"
Mind you, I can only relate such vivid accounts to you with delirious joy, but it was anything but joy when shit was happening to me.
So, you can see, my school life has been a very busy one indeed! I would prefer my future school life to be pedestrian for a change, so I wouldn't fancy people throwing water bottles at my face.
Of course, besides people throwing water bottles at me, there are other reasons that I feel straitjacketed by in my choice of future education path.
You see, I'm unable to function as a human being on a singular mode, and I cling to the people (i.e. my maid) around me with the same level of dependency a patient has on a life support system.
My maid is the human equivalent of antibiotics. It's not good, but it's essential, for one's continual survival or to ease the pain... for me, it's the pain of having to do things myself.
Well, anyway, today I asked two of my classmates whether they thought I should 'Go' or 'Stay'? The discussion turned out to be rather heated, but good-humoured anyway.
Go: 3-year degree course in Australia, and graduate with an Australian degree
Stay: Remain in Singapore for 2 years and fly off to Australia in the final year, and graduate with an Australian degree
Below is an extract of their discussion.
Classmate 1 (C1): I think you shouldn't go.
Classmate 2 (C2): No, I think you should go lor!
C1: If I'm an employee, I would want someone who has a good mix of both cultures, local and Ang Moh....I wouldn't want to hire someone who is totally Ang Moh.
C2: What for?! You already study in Singapore for the past 10 over years already? You've already gained enough of local culture, for what you want to continue studying here?! So boring (rolls eyes)
C1: I mean, studying itself is hard enough already. And, what? You have to be away from your the warmth of your family and friends as well? What for you want to make yourself suffer? It would be best if you stay here for the next 2 years, then just suffer for one year in a foreign country. (funny how my dad said the same thing to me)
C2: No, go go go! I mean, even stay in Singapore, normal families also hardly get a chance to talk to each other what - like everyday so busy...
C1: Yeah, but at least you get to be near your family. Even if you don't talk, sometimes you still feel the warmth radiating when they are near you. Like, sometimes, I'm in my room and my mum is in the kitchen cooking and talking loudly, I can still feel the warmth. At least, you get to see them mah.
C2: Bring along photo with you also can see what!
C1: But, it's not the real thing!
C2: If you go there, you can absorb a different kind of culture.
C1: (turns to me) Anyway, you will want to pursue a higher education level above degree right? So, if you want to chase a Master's, you can continue staying on for an additional year. So, that makes it two years in total. Enough to absorb the culture.
Anyway, halfway through the discussion, both participants got rather agitated (in a good way), each wanting to prove their points. And, I was thinking to myself, 'Er...ok, this is so funny lar!"
So, if you were to see the last sentence of the above conversation, that is the decision I've made for myself. Well, at least until someone else comes along to prove me otherwise...
On the right, there is a signboard that says, "Australia" and on the other is a well-trodden path, filled with potholes of deeply entrenched footprints, that puts me in a category apart from the typical educational route taken by most Singaporeans.
My once brick-hard resolve have dissolved like sugar in a water, leaving behind residues of confidence in my stance.
Of course, this has somewhat to do with comments dished out by friends.
"They throw water bottles at Asians!" said one friend.
I went home and asked my father, "Dad, do they throw water bottles at you?"
"Of course!" My father said, with a nonchalant look on his face. He then told me about how his uncle, a doctor of high qualifications, was discriminated against, just because he was of a different skin colour. The patients refused to be treated by him, and requested for an Aussie.
He continued, "But as long as you stick around with the Asians, it should be alright."
I've never given this much thought, simply because I am well aware that as long as this matter remains in my consciousness, I will never get a good night's sleep. So, constantly, I push it to the back of my mind...
Of course, I'm worried, because for the past 19 years, I've been snugly ensconced in my comfort zone, and I'm not sure I want to encroach such unfamiliar territories.
I'm so adjusted to the calm waters, and right now, I have to step tentatively, one step at a time, into chartered waters..will I drown, be swept away by the high tide of problems awaiting to ambush me at the corner?
Having been a victim of bullying for every single school I've ever been in, the thought of them throwing bottles at yours truly strikes utmost terror in my heart.
I am as sociable as a doormat and as cliquey as a high-school student (Oh, wait, I am one). So, you see, if they throw water bottles at me, I wouldn't even raise an eyebrow and ask, "Why? Why me?" Simply because I portray myself in a way that either 1) has people reclining away from me as though I have contracted Hepatitis B; or 2) throw water bottles at me.
I'm dealt with all sorts of bullies my entire nineteen (and counting) years in existence.
While other students my age were busy studying for their upcoming History test or nursing a crush on some cute guy or bugging teachers for hints for upcoming tests and exams, I was doing all three; while fighting with ah-lians, throwing shutter-cocks at their faces, fending off untrue rumours about myself spreading around like wildfire (no thanks to those ah-lians) and clogging up brain space devising all sorts of revenge methods.
The classic one was when one ah-lian started lurching into a litany of complaints against me, all while making sure that I was in ear-shot distance.
I vividly remember walking up to her table, taking up her assignments and crunching them up into a ball before I threw it to the ground in exultation. And, when she shouted at me (can't remember what), I turned to my friend sitting next to me and asked, "Did you hear a dog barking?"
Mind you, I can only relate such vivid accounts to you with delirious joy, but it was anything but joy when shit was happening to me.
So, you can see, my school life has been a very busy one indeed! I would prefer my future school life to be pedestrian for a change, so I wouldn't fancy people throwing water bottles at my face.
Of course, besides people throwing water bottles at me, there are other reasons that I feel straitjacketed by in my choice of future education path.
You see, I'm unable to function as a human being on a singular mode, and I cling to the people (i.e. my maid) around me with the same level of dependency a patient has on a life support system.
My maid is the human equivalent of antibiotics. It's not good, but it's essential, for one's continual survival or to ease the pain... for me, it's the pain of having to do things myself.
Well, anyway, today I asked two of my classmates whether they thought I should 'Go' or 'Stay'? The discussion turned out to be rather heated, but good-humoured anyway.
Go: 3-year degree course in Australia, and graduate with an Australian degree
Stay: Remain in Singapore for 2 years and fly off to Australia in the final year, and graduate with an Australian degree
Below is an extract of their discussion.
Classmate 1 (C1): I think you shouldn't go.
Classmate 2 (C2): No, I think you should go lor!
C1: If I'm an employee, I would want someone who has a good mix of both cultures, local and Ang Moh....I wouldn't want to hire someone who is totally Ang Moh.
C2: What for?! You already study in Singapore for the past 10 over years already? You've already gained enough of local culture, for what you want to continue studying here?! So boring (rolls eyes)
C1: I mean, studying itself is hard enough already. And, what? You have to be away from your the warmth of your family and friends as well? What for you want to make yourself suffer? It would be best if you stay here for the next 2 years, then just suffer for one year in a foreign country. (funny how my dad said the same thing to me)
C2: No, go go go! I mean, even stay in Singapore, normal families also hardly get a chance to talk to each other what - like everyday so busy...
C1: Yeah, but at least you get to be near your family. Even if you don't talk, sometimes you still feel the warmth radiating when they are near you. Like, sometimes, I'm in my room and my mum is in the kitchen cooking and talking loudly, I can still feel the warmth. At least, you get to see them mah.
C2: Bring along photo with you also can see what!
C1: But, it's not the real thing!
C2: If you go there, you can absorb a different kind of culture.
C1: (turns to me) Anyway, you will want to pursue a higher education level above degree right? So, if you want to chase a Master's, you can continue staying on for an additional year. So, that makes it two years in total. Enough to absorb the culture.
Anyway, halfway through the discussion, both participants got rather agitated (in a good way), each wanting to prove their points. And, I was thinking to myself, 'Er...ok, this is so funny lar!"
So, if you were to see the last sentence of the above conversation, that is the decision I've made for myself. Well, at least until someone else comes along to prove me otherwise...
Monday, February 12, 2007
regret is a painful thing.
Even though it's sad, it is reality.
It doesn't matter how much I cry,
I can't run away from the disease.
Even if I want to return to the past,
I can't go back in time.
This is exactly how I feel right now.
Or rather, how I want to feel.
Regret is a scary thing,
it represents a stabbing pain in your consciousness,
that you would otherwise like to erase from your mind.
I had an epiphany
Can I view adulthood with a child-like innocence?
It doesn't matter how much I cry,
I can't run away from the disease.
Even if I want to return to the past,
I can't go back in time.
This is exactly how I feel right now.
Or rather, how I want to feel.
Regret is a scary thing,
it represents a stabbing pain in your consciousness,
that you would otherwise like to erase from your mind.
Sometimes, we watch or read of people who are born with some kind of disability, but never allow their handicap to be a crippling force in their lives. We admire such courageous qualities in their fighter spirit, but the truth is, it is precisely their disability that makes them stronger than any one of us.
The vagaries of lifeIf I could choose
Can I go back to a time
when I was innocent and free
Can I go back to a time
when I was innocent and free
I had an epiphany
Can I view adulthood with a child-like innocence?
Sometimes, I wish I was a kid again, then I wouldn't have to view the world with such tainted eyes. Life would be like a rainbow in its shining glory. Wouldn't it be nice not have to worry about money, grades, relationships, and to lead a life with bliss, to eat, sleep and watch TV without a care in the world but -
Even if I want to return to the past,
I can't go back in time.
I can't go back in time.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
don't cross my path and act like we are strangers
ten things.
[Tue, Jan 16, 07 / 10:12pm]
List ten things you want to say to ten random people, but you know you never will say these things to them. Don’t say who the comment is meant for, and use people only once.
1. Even if we don't contact each other for ten years, the friendship between us shall never fade. That's how strong our bonds are. You are like the sister that God forgot to include when He was writing my 'siblings' name-list'.
2. Sometimes I wish you can be happy. Other times, it feels like I am willing to sacrifice my own in order to exchange for your happiness. Just be happy, damnit! If only it were that easy.
3. Sometimes I hate myself for forgiving you so quickly, only to find that the pain still lives in my heart.
4. I hate you. I hate how you are childish, whinish, and a flippant friend whose loyalty flips over faster than a coin.
5. These days, I look at you and start to ponder where is the smiling and cheerful gal who never failed to give me a helping hand when I was faced with life's uncertainties...when did that part of you die without you even realizing it, or do you even realize it at all?
6. I hate you. I hate how you dominate my life so much so that even after so many years I still want you as my best friend. Where have all the letter-writing, the nightly phone chats, the movie dates, the noisy banter between us vanished to? Why has that banter been reduced to such a pathetic state even less audible than a whisper? It seems that the bonds of our friendship have loosened like an unwitting piece of cloth whose fabric has woven apart, lending conviction that the fabric wasn't very tightly knit in the first place. I hate how my friends never stop updating me about your news, how my friends around me remind me how close I was to you, I hate how the envy of one can now turn into a stabbing pain in the recesses of my heart, and I even more hate how you have a new best friend now. Hurl abuse at me, curse me, swear at me! So at least I can be sure that the friendship between us existed in real life, and not just merely as a figment of my imagination. Damn. Just be my best friend all over again. Don't cross my path and act like we are strangers again.
7. I like you. I like you for something that goes far beyond aesthetic appeal and flamboyant adulation.
8. I wish that our friendship didn't revolve around superficial trash and I dislike how you blame me for not keeping in contact, when you have conveniently failed to do the same, citing 'studies' as the most primary reason. Don't ever say things like 'I thought you died' to me. Ever. Again.
9. I think back about the time you said to me, "I've never had a close friendship with anyone that lasted beyond the time we spent in school." And, oh, I wish I could change all that.
10. Sometimes, I wish that your vulnerability isn't restricted only to falling victim into The Devil's (read: depression) hands, then go on to demonstrate the strength of your willpower by building up a wall to hide all the emotional pandemonium stirring inside. I wish you wouldn't be so harsh on yourself. Build a door. Then let others in.
[Tue, Jan 16, 07 / 10:12pm]
List ten things you want to say to ten random people, but you know you never will say these things to them. Don’t say who the comment is meant for, and use people only once.
1. Even if we don't contact each other for ten years, the friendship between us shall never fade. That's how strong our bonds are. You are like the sister that God forgot to include when He was writing my 'siblings' name-list'.
2. Sometimes I wish you can be happy. Other times, it feels like I am willing to sacrifice my own in order to exchange for your happiness. Just be happy, damnit! If only it were that easy.
3. Sometimes I hate myself for forgiving you so quickly, only to find that the pain still lives in my heart.
4. I hate you. I hate how you are childish, whinish, and a flippant friend whose loyalty flips over faster than a coin.
5. These days, I look at you and start to ponder where is the smiling and cheerful gal who never failed to give me a helping hand when I was faced with life's uncertainties...when did that part of you die without you even realizing it, or do you even realize it at all?
6. I hate you. I hate how you dominate my life so much so that even after so many years I still want you as my best friend. Where have all the letter-writing, the nightly phone chats, the movie dates, the noisy banter between us vanished to? Why has that banter been reduced to such a pathetic state even less audible than a whisper? It seems that the bonds of our friendship have loosened like an unwitting piece of cloth whose fabric has woven apart, lending conviction that the fabric wasn't very tightly knit in the first place. I hate how my friends never stop updating me about your news, how my friends around me remind me how close I was to you, I hate how the envy of one can now turn into a stabbing pain in the recesses of my heart, and I even more hate how you have a new best friend now. Hurl abuse at me, curse me, swear at me! So at least I can be sure that the friendship between us existed in real life, and not just merely as a figment of my imagination. Damn. Just be my best friend all over again. Don't cross my path and act like we are strangers again.
7. I like you. I like you for something that goes far beyond aesthetic appeal and flamboyant adulation.
8. I wish that our friendship didn't revolve around superficial trash and I dislike how you blame me for not keeping in contact, when you have conveniently failed to do the same, citing 'studies' as the most primary reason. Don't ever say things like 'I thought you died' to me. Ever. Again.
9. I think back about the time you said to me, "I've never had a close friendship with anyone that lasted beyond the time we spent in school." And, oh, I wish I could change all that.
10. Sometimes, I wish that your vulnerability isn't restricted only to falling victim into The Devil's (read: depression) hands, then go on to demonstrate the strength of your willpower by building up a wall to hide all the emotional pandemonium stirring inside. I wish you wouldn't be so harsh on yourself. Build a door. Then let others in.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Nokia's latest marketing gimmick
I was pleasantly surprised when I stepped into the bus this morning and was greeted by a not-so-familiar sight.
A wave of striking red and white combination, a playful juxtaposition of two very prominent colours, each scrambling for my attention.
In place of the usual red seats were plush designer leather chairs.
There was even a tiny makeshift 'bar' with a white 'bar-top' to complete the whole elegant bar affair.
It's a pity then that the most complexing creatures on the bus remained the same, unaffected poise. People were comfortably ensconed on their chairs, wearing the same expressions that I witness everyday: Nothing. Or maybe bored. Then there are those catching a nap, listening to their iPods, staring blankly into space.
As I write this I turn and see a girl, whose books were placed incongruously on the 'bar-top', yawning oafishly. I thought of how my friend once said that a girl, no matter how gorgeous or pretty, would appear ugly to her if her mannerisms so much as dictate her to yawn in public without covering her mouth.
Instead of the usual news broadcast telecasting on TV Mobile; TV Mobile was unceremoniously switched off, and in its place was a Nokia Music TV set, which was airing a series of nokia ads.
Flamboyant nokia ads donned every nook and cranny of the bus.
Apparently, this is the latest marketing gimmick by the intelligent folks at Nokia.
I thought it would be amusing to see the looks on people's faces as they boarded the bus, but apart from an initial quizzical once-over, each bedraggled commuter that boarded the bus sported the same worn-out look.
It seemed perfectly normal then that the most excited ones on the bus were two Filipino maids who giggled like two giddy schoolgirls, as both made cursory glances and one gesticulated pointedly at the pure white designer chairs.
Also, in place of the usual neat and orderly arrangement of the chairs, were chairs of various nature placed in differing and strategic positions. There were relax chairs and luxury chairs, all pearly white, which could be rotated 180-degrees clockwise. The plushness of the chairs could give Angelina Jolie and her lips a run for her money.
And the usual dull gray that lined the windows of the bus, had an extra smart suit embellished over them, made of red velvet felt material.
Now, don't you wish you had been in that bus?
A wave of striking red and white combination, a playful juxtaposition of two very prominent colours, each scrambling for my attention.
In place of the usual red seats were plush designer leather chairs.
There was even a tiny makeshift 'bar' with a white 'bar-top' to complete the whole elegant bar affair.
It's a pity then that the most complexing creatures on the bus remained the same, unaffected poise. People were comfortably ensconed on their chairs, wearing the same expressions that I witness everyday: Nothing. Or maybe bored. Then there are those catching a nap, listening to their iPods, staring blankly into space.
As I write this I turn and see a girl, whose books were placed incongruously on the 'bar-top', yawning oafishly. I thought of how my friend once said that a girl, no matter how gorgeous or pretty, would appear ugly to her if her mannerisms so much as dictate her to yawn in public without covering her mouth.
Instead of the usual news broadcast telecasting on TV Mobile; TV Mobile was unceremoniously switched off, and in its place was a Nokia Music TV set, which was airing a series of nokia ads.
Flamboyant nokia ads donned every nook and cranny of the bus.
Apparently, this is the latest marketing gimmick by the intelligent folks at Nokia.
I thought it would be amusing to see the looks on people's faces as they boarded the bus, but apart from an initial quizzical once-over, each bedraggled commuter that boarded the bus sported the same worn-out look.
It seemed perfectly normal then that the most excited ones on the bus were two Filipino maids who giggled like two giddy schoolgirls, as both made cursory glances and one gesticulated pointedly at the pure white designer chairs.
Also, in place of the usual neat and orderly arrangement of the chairs, were chairs of various nature placed in differing and strategic positions. There were relax chairs and luxury chairs, all pearly white, which could be rotated 180-degrees clockwise. The plushness of the chairs could give Angelina Jolie and her lips a run for her money.
And the usual dull gray that lined the windows of the bus, had an extra smart suit embellished over them, made of red velvet felt material.
Now, don't you wish you had been in that bus?
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
And so they think she's lucky because she's rich
But they couldn't be further away from the truth.
I was having a conversation with this classmate of mine. The thing is, the both of us are 'perceived' to be the richest among the lot in the class, an honour we would be quick to refute and are very much undeserving of, thank you very much.
Ironically, this classmate kept bugging me with questions laden with hidden meaning. For an instant, I felt like I was being transported back to my secondary school's science laboratory and had an experiment conducted on me, a litmus test to 'determine' how rich I am. (May I also add how pitiful the unwilling victim, yours truly, is.) Dissecting my 'insides' and 'poking' through loopholes just so I could come out and say, "Ok, I confess. I'm rich. In fact, my father is a billionaire. (So not true at all.)"
Excerpts from our conversation:
him: You know, that day, my parents wanted to give me and my brother a supplementary card each. But, of course, I couldn't except it!
smartyypants69: Why not?
him: Are you crazy? I will spend all my parent's money away! Even though sometimes I can cover up with excuses like, you know, I'm buying clothes for the new year and my parents will most likely close an eye...but I will waste my parents money lah! And, besides, if I get a supplementary card, I will have to pay all the bills myself!
The conversation carries on until he started 'accusing' me of being rich, and we started a verbal war tirade of sorts, each trying to 'prove' that they were the poorer one.
smartyypants69: I'm very poor lah, please!
him: Yeah, right. Dun bluff!
smartyypants69: Ok, how much do you have in your wallet right now?
him: Er...10 bucks.
smartyypants69: Yeah, right.
him: Serious...(starts taking out his wallet)
smartyypants69: (brushes his comment off lightly) Oh, wait...you must have some sort of credit card with you or something right? (like, duh, all rich people do.)
him: No, I don't, really. I'm like really broke right now.
smartyypants69: Ok, so how much allowance do you get from your parents a week?
him: Er...like around...50 bucks.How about you?
smarttypants69: See?! (gives him a 'duh' look) I get less allowance than you! Minus bus fares to top up my ex-link card, I get 40 dollars a week.
him: So, what about if you don't minus it off?
smartyypants69: $60.
him: Yeah, right. You're such a liar. Ok, show me your watch?
smartyypants69: (hides tattered and torn watch away from him) No!
him: (persistent in an irritating mosquito-kinda-way) No, let me see..
smartyypants69: (hides watch behind computer in a desperate attempt to conceal the embarrassment of being seen in public with a watch whose strap had ripped all the way, and considers for a brief moment, to sit on it.)
him: Is it a watch from Ralph Lauren or ... (starts rambling off names of designer watches) (he starts thinking that I have a watch that costs $10,000 ensconed snugly on my wrist)
smartyypants69: No! It's a watch that I bought for four dollars! FOUR SINGAPORE DOLLARS! (sticks out four fingers at his face as though he is illiterate or something)
***
You're such a liar.
So, basically the highlight of the conversation, with him labelling me "a liar" just because I say I'm poor, is that he doesn't believe what I say just like how I don't trust him when he says he's broke. (He probably has a secret bank account in Switzerland or something that he withdraws cash urgently from.) As you can see for youself, the conversation consists mostly of "Yeah, right" since the both of us have sneaking suspicions about the validity of the other party's claims.
A friend of mine once openly mulled over why the rich people in our class couldn't come out of our closet in the same open fashion as the gay celebrities (think N*Sync's Lance Bass and Westlife's Mark Feehily) in Hollywood do.
Well, the reason is simple. We don't want to be seen as different. We want to be cliquey, and certainly do not need people to put us in a different category or start treating us in a different way. Neither do we need to be placed on an invisible pedestral just because "oh, he's so flithy rich".
At the end of the day, it's a never-ending debate.
Although I shall insist that he's the richer one.
***
I was having a conversation with this classmate of mine. The thing is, the both of us are 'perceived' to be the richest among the lot in the class, an honour we would be quick to refute and are very much undeserving of, thank you very much.
Ironically, this classmate kept bugging me with questions laden with hidden meaning. For an instant, I felt like I was being transported back to my secondary school's science laboratory and had an experiment conducted on me, a litmus test to 'determine' how rich I am. (May I also add how pitiful the unwilling victim, yours truly, is.) Dissecting my 'insides' and 'poking' through loopholes just so I could come out and say, "Ok, I confess. I'm rich. In fact, my father is a billionaire. (So not true at all.)"
Excerpts from our conversation:
him: You know, that day, my parents wanted to give me and my brother a supplementary card each. But, of course, I couldn't except it!
smartyypants69: Why not?
him: Are you crazy? I will spend all my parent's money away! Even though sometimes I can cover up with excuses like, you know, I'm buying clothes for the new year and my parents will most likely close an eye...but I will waste my parents money lah! And, besides, if I get a supplementary card, I will have to pay all the bills myself!
The conversation carries on until he started 'accusing' me of being rich, and we started a verbal war tirade of sorts, each trying to 'prove' that they were the poorer one.
smartyypants69: I'm very poor lah, please!
him: Yeah, right. Dun bluff!
smartyypants69: Ok, how much do you have in your wallet right now?
him: Er...10 bucks.
smartyypants69: Yeah, right.
him: Serious...(starts taking out his wallet)
smartyypants69: (brushes his comment off lightly) Oh, wait...you must have some sort of credit card with you or something right? (like, duh, all rich people do.)
him: No, I don't, really. I'm like really broke right now.
smartyypants69: Ok, so how much allowance do you get from your parents a week?
him: Er...like around...50 bucks.How about you?
smarttypants69: See?! (gives him a 'duh' look) I get less allowance than you! Minus bus fares to top up my ex-link card, I get 40 dollars a week.
him: So, what about if you don't minus it off?
smartyypants69: $60.
him: Yeah, right. You're such a liar. Ok, show me your watch?
smartyypants69: (hides tattered and torn watch away from him) No!
him: (persistent in an irritating mosquito-kinda-way) No, let me see..
smartyypants69: (hides watch behind computer in a desperate attempt to conceal the embarrassment of being seen in public with a watch whose strap had ripped all the way, and considers for a brief moment, to sit on it.)
him: Is it a watch from Ralph Lauren or ... (starts rambling off names of designer watches) (he starts thinking that I have a watch that costs $10,000 ensconed snugly on my wrist)
smartyypants69: No! It's a watch that I bought for four dollars! FOUR SINGAPORE DOLLARS! (sticks out four fingers at his face as though he is illiterate or something)
***
You're such a liar.
So, basically the highlight of the conversation, with him labelling me "a liar" just because I say I'm poor, is that he doesn't believe what I say just like how I don't trust him when he says he's broke. (He probably has a secret bank account in Switzerland or something that he withdraws cash urgently from.) As you can see for youself, the conversation consists mostly of "Yeah, right" since the both of us have sneaking suspicions about the validity of the other party's claims.
A friend of mine once openly mulled over why the rich people in our class couldn't come out of our closet in the same open fashion as the gay celebrities (think N*Sync's Lance Bass and Westlife's Mark Feehily) in Hollywood do.
Well, the reason is simple. We don't want to be seen as different. We want to be cliquey, and certainly do not need people to put us in a different category or start treating us in a different way. Neither do we need to be placed on an invisible pedestral just because "oh, he's so flithy rich".
At the end of the day, it's a never-ending debate.
Although I shall insist that he's the richer one.
***
Btw, just in case curiousity is killing you right now...I bought the watch at Bangkok for 100 baht, equivalent to 4 Sing dollars. It has since torn apart but I still proudly dorn it on my slender wrist because I feel it accentuates my perfection for beauty (vomits) and suits me very well (er....for a start...it is very fat..I can think of one person who would agree with me, and her name starts with A. Coincidentally, she's the sexiest girl in my school also, and I feel very priviliged that she notices me enough to call me 'fat'.)
Friday, January 05, 2007
Meet my boyfriend, the accessory
So, how many times have you come across girls who stick to their boyfriends tighter than elephant glue, like as though they are a limb that grows out of their boyfriend. You see them hanging around with each other so often that you confuse them with the Siamese twins. It's not surprising anymore, and like a fabulous piece of clothing article or a new charming bracelet, the girl wears her love for her boyfriend on her sleeve for all and sundry to witness.
True everlasting love or an essential accessory, like your latest Nokia handphone model that you never leave home without?
Similarly, like clinching a book deal is testament to a writer's worth, securing yourself a boyfriend is validation that you have the charms, you have what it takes to make a guy want you to be his girlfriend. You silently laugh and cast a disparaging glance over your shoulder at the unattached singletons and recommend that they go to SDU (Sad, Desperate, Ugly).
Hence, newly-attached folks will be very eager to flaunt their non-singleton status as soon as their said status is cemented. For some, it is an ego trip sparked off by years of being alone, wondering if one is unattractive to the opposite sex.
In other cases, it is ignited and fueled by a feeling of pride, they show off their boyfriends in the same manner that a seven-year-old kid shows off his trophy to his mum. "Look, ma! I won first prize in the swimming contest!" Which, in a way, makes him superior or on par with others. Otherwise, insecurity and self-esteem issues bugs him like a pimple on an adolescent's forehead that won't seem to go away.
Boyfriends have become a form of currency to one's self-worth. The more you accumulate, the more 'market value' you have. Because it proves that you're in demand, damnit! A cursory glance over any teenage magazine, and you see teens mourning their singleton status to Aunt Agony.
"Why, oh why, when my friends are all attached, am I the only one still single? Is there something wrong with me? Am I unattractive? Am I not pretty enough? Am I not well-liked? If not, why am I the only one in my clique that is still unattached? What must I do to get myself a boyfriend? Start having sex?"
OK, I added that last sentence in myself. But, that's what teenagers are doing today to 'prove' their love. Not sure about their love, but they have successfully proven their stupidity.
But, seriously, the absence of a boyfriend has become a very real problem for teenage girls, especially in this increasingly shallow society.
Think about this: A woman in her 30s, financially secure, she has a group of good buddies that she hangs out frequently with, but if she doesn't have a boyfriend or isn't married, ugly names like 'spinster', 'widow' or maybe 'So grounchy, no wonder no one wants to marry her" starts surfacing, sprouting out rapidly like mushrooms in the presence of 'fungus and bacteria' (public opinion).
What more even so in the context of a 19-year-old girl, at an age where one is grappling with a mountain of insecurity issues, at an age where even a pimple can provoke the license to stay at home all day long, where vanity issues reign supremacy in one's waking hours.
It doesn't help at all when one is living on a pile of superficial trash that is Planet Earth, where people would rather bring a mirror than say, a compass or survival kit, if stranded on an island. Where a beauty queen's first thought upon consciousness after a serious car accident is to ask the nurse to bring her the mirror, where...
A boyfriend is this season's must-have, a trend that is increasingly gaining momentum. Having a boyfriend is cool, is fashionable, is the 'in' thing!
And this trend?
It never goes out of fashion.
True everlasting love or an essential accessory, like your latest Nokia handphone model that you never leave home without?
Similarly, like clinching a book deal is testament to a writer's worth, securing yourself a boyfriend is validation that you have the charms, you have what it takes to make a guy want you to be his girlfriend. You silently laugh and cast a disparaging glance over your shoulder at the unattached singletons and recommend that they go to SDU (Sad, Desperate, Ugly).
Hence, newly-attached folks will be very eager to flaunt their non-singleton status as soon as their said status is cemented. For some, it is an ego trip sparked off by years of being alone, wondering if one is unattractive to the opposite sex.
In other cases, it is ignited and fueled by a feeling of pride, they show off their boyfriends in the same manner that a seven-year-old kid shows off his trophy to his mum. "Look, ma! I won first prize in the swimming contest!" Which, in a way, makes him superior or on par with others. Otherwise, insecurity and self-esteem issues bugs him like a pimple on an adolescent's forehead that won't seem to go away.
Boyfriends have become a form of currency to one's self-worth. The more you accumulate, the more 'market value' you have. Because it proves that you're in demand, damnit! A cursory glance over any teenage magazine, and you see teens mourning their singleton status to Aunt Agony.
"Why, oh why, when my friends are all attached, am I the only one still single? Is there something wrong with me? Am I unattractive? Am I not pretty enough? Am I not well-liked? If not, why am I the only one in my clique that is still unattached? What must I do to get myself a boyfriend? Start having sex?"
OK, I added that last sentence in myself. But, that's what teenagers are doing today to 'prove' their love. Not sure about their love, but they have successfully proven their stupidity.
But, seriously, the absence of a boyfriend has become a very real problem for teenage girls, especially in this increasingly shallow society.
Think about this: A woman in her 30s, financially secure, she has a group of good buddies that she hangs out frequently with, but if she doesn't have a boyfriend or isn't married, ugly names like 'spinster', 'widow' or maybe 'So grounchy, no wonder no one wants to marry her" starts surfacing, sprouting out rapidly like mushrooms in the presence of 'fungus and bacteria' (public opinion).
What more even so in the context of a 19-year-old girl, at an age where one is grappling with a mountain of insecurity issues, at an age where even a pimple can provoke the license to stay at home all day long, where vanity issues reign supremacy in one's waking hours.
It doesn't help at all when one is living on a pile of superficial trash that is Planet Earth, where people would rather bring a mirror than say, a compass or survival kit, if stranded on an island. Where a beauty queen's first thought upon consciousness after a serious car accident is to ask the nurse to bring her the mirror, where...
A boyfriend is this season's must-have, a trend that is increasingly gaining momentum. Having a boyfriend is cool, is fashionable, is the 'in' thing!
And this trend?
It never goes out of fashion.
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