Frustration? Defenestration! But now, Sunshine as well!

2011-01-21T00:38:00.000+08:00

The darkness. A pit born into.

Found the strength to climb out years ago.

But it’s always there. Always pulling at me.

The ties are seductive; waving the prospect of happiness.

It’s a drug. Promising what you’re after, just to pull you back from it.

The future foreseen: I will try to escape its grasp. Then, look back in regret.

The pit will then be of my own.

2010-11-29T20:46:00.000+08:00

Someone just mentioned that we should find someone who’ll make us smile, and choose him or her for our partner. Because life should be full of laughter, so doesn’t it make sense for our life partner to make us smile?

I think it to be of a certain truth.

Yet, I beg to offer another perspective. Wouldn’t it be equally – if not more – important to be with someone on whom you can always put a smile on? I smile… Yes, I certainly am thinking of someone. My certain someone. My only one.

In giving the happiness of a smile, we receive the happiness of being able to give a smile. How many times have you tried to connect with another, only to find that you’re on a different frequency?

I smile… I smile because I see you. I smile because I when you’re not in sight, you’re still always in my mind. I smile because of you. When we look back together, I want to count not our years, but our smiles shared together.

2010-06-07T16:53:00.000+08:00

Why do you wonder about me?

I guess it’s only human nature: to doubt, when something is important.

All I can say is: it’s in my nature – to love you; to be with you.

It’s in my nature to be drawn to you; to fall in love with you.

It’s in my nature to watch out for where you place your step, so you don’t trip.

It’s in my nature to want to hold you in my arms, and tell you it’s alright.

It’s in my nature to look at you and feel so much love, and know that I would be so empty without you.

It’s in my nature to be with you.

I didn’t have to think about it; I don’t have to think about it.

But when I do think about it, I only get more certain than I already am.

I just …love you.

2010-03-30T14:45:00.001+08:00

I feel it growing. This spark, that became a glow, that became a flame, that became an inferno. It’s growing. Despite all that’s trying to extinguish it. All these extinguishers all around. Trying their best to quell something that they wish they had. The private domain of tortured individuals. It’ll burn me up, or it’ll shine. What won’t ever happen, is for it be tamed.

I’ll burn wild.

2010-03-18T14:59:00.001+08:00

What am I doing wrong? What am I doing right? Is anything that I’m doing right? Am I not doing enough? Am I not doing what I’m doing right? Am I capable of doing what I’m supposed to be doing right? Do I just need to keep on doing what I’m doing till I get it right?

Questions – in oversupply. Answers – out of stock.

2010-02-13T00:25:00.000+08:00

You took a look at my earphones.
Once-white wires; grime-coated.
You took them in your hands.
And gently, attentively, restored them with pureness.
I look, seeing you, from your gesture.

One day, some day down the road, at one of those unavoidable moments when we feel a million miles away. I’ll hold them in my hands; finger them, and remember.

2010-02-13T00:23:00.000+08:00

Oh, woe is me, full of pecuniary woe
Slow in, fast out – that’s the flow
Though I do neither drink nor disco
Account’s inching to zero
Riches why not on me bestow?

2010-01-20T17:53:00.003+08:00

But why do we still ride?But why do we still ride?

We still do, because, well… we just do.

Because, it’s what we do.

From that one, single moment when we rode a bike for the first time, we knew.

Knew that while the rest of the world felt more comfortable with two legs, we were born to move with two wheels.

Four, is for The Others. Those who don’t understand, and never will.

They mock us – cowards – from behind their tempered glass windows, and take pride in their air-conditioning, ABS systems, and massage seats.

They see the world through their bubble; we feel the world through our soul.

We ride, not just to get from Point A, to Point B.
We ride, because along the way we might get to experience Point C, Point D, Point C, and
We ride, because there’s no point in living life only for the destinations.

What we want to say is: If you ride, any road is good, any bike is fine.

Just keep on riding...

2010-01-20T17:50:00.000+08:00

Reasons Not to Ride

• Rain is wet.
• Raincoats are stinky.
• It gets cold at night.
• It gets hot during the day.
• Dirty drivers throw us dirty looks.
• Parking coupons always get stolen.
• At high speed, raindrops are bullets.
• Birds.
• And how they love to poop on our seats.
• Cats.
• And how they use our bikes as scratching posts.
• Drivers.
• And their arrogance.
• Drivers think we don’t belong on the roads.
• Helmets are heavy – not all of us are singhs.
• The people who design the roads aren’t bikes.
• The people who design bike lots aren’t bikers.
• The people who make traffic laws aren’t bikers.
• Girlfriends’ fathers think we’re not good enough.
• Look at the size of lanes – roads aren’t made for bikes.
• Ever noticed how it’s always the inside of our left shoe that wears out?
• Some shopping centres have yet to discover the concept of the bike lot.
• Travel beside a car at the same speed, and you’ll be the one the TP pulls over.
• If you saw road safety ads, you’d think that all bikers crash within 30 seconds of riding.
• And on and on…

2009-12-22T16:40:00.000+08:00

Trying to learn as much as possible, as much as I possible can.

Do I have a plateau, and how high is it?

Climbing, with both hope and trepidation. They churn inside, taking hold alternatively.

I hope the ascent’s continual, and I never see the top.

I brush off a trip here, and a stumble there. Brush off the mountain’s dirt, and steadying myself, push on upwards.

The air will get thinner and the advance will get tougher the higher I go, but it’s only natural, and to be expected.

Climb on…

2009-12-07T21:52:00.001+08:00

Feels so weird and unnatural, to be doing something without you. You’re so intertwined with my life, that I can’t do without you in any aspect of my life. Vulnerable I have become, yes, but only to you. That’s the price of happiness with you, and it’s a price I gladly pay. For your hold on my heart is immutable, unchanging, unceasing. Such it is that any supposed moment of happiness, if passed without you, would become a moment of sadness, for our moments are to be shared, for all moments on.

2009-09-25T17:45:00.001+08:00

A challenge met.

A day saved.

A soul fulfilled.

A heart soothed.

Blissfully enveloped in the contentment of the moment, savouring the transient tranquillity. Heart of hearts hoping for more lasting equilibrium. Musings abound: When will the destination be reached?

2009-09-15T03:29:00.000+08:00

Why? Do I persist in being me?

Why? Do I let myself harm myself?

Why? Do I hurt one who is devoted like no one else?

Why? Do I let my humanity cloud my reality?

2009-09-14T11:59:00.000+08:00

Vile, worthless, pile of slime.

Do you think your negligible existence worth the air you breathe in?

Grow a backbone, grow a pair, grow up.

Do you fancy stewing in contemptuous spittle?

Do you seek painful pleasure from scorn, disdain, abhorrence?

See the light – there is only darkness!

And it will be a faithful and enduring companion.

It will follow through this instance you call a life, and beyond.

So rejoice!

2009-09-14T09:51:00.000+08:00

Is love possible without passion?

I do not know.

Coffee without smell.

Curry without spice.

Soup without warmth.

Form without function, letter without spirit.

Empty, hollow, flat, dead, signifying nothing.

I am an unwanted weed, dry, colourless, withered, a mockery of the flower aspired to.

The day I acquire a taste for frigidity – if ever there be such a day – has not come yet.

Is love possible without passion?

I don’t think so.

2009-09-08T01:20:00.000+08:00

Tell me, tell me, what you’re thinking about.

Share with me the secrets of your heart.

Let me delve into, dive into your soul’s deepest recesses.

I want to explore you, be you, know you, love you.

Fiery phoenix, rise, and let me behold you.

Set my heart on fire, you do.

Keep me aflutter, you do.

My life, at your whim’s command.

Your love, my existence requires.

Do you see? Through fate inexplicable, bound to you, I am.

Fire. Burn, burn in me, till I am ashes.

And then, continue burning.

Desperate: without your glance would I be.

Leave me: is to kill me.

I think of you; the fire burns metal.

2009-09-08T01:06:00.000+08:00

Guttural, primal: My scream,

Endless, incomprehensible: My despair.

Horrified, petrified: My feelings.

2009-08-04T11:45:00.003+08:00

Ever so gently, the wind blows. Strongly enough to titillate – make its fleeting presence known – too weakly to lift the sail, or push. Its only effect, to create false hopes – to frustrate. My arms lie limp, leaden from rowing, though I can’t tell the starting point, from the ending point. Maybe, it’s the same, and I haven’t moved one bit. Looking beside, I find it empty, and find myself filled – filled to the brim, with emptiness.

2009-07-17T15:12:00.000+08:00

I feel myself seeping away. Drip by drip. Soon, there will be nothing left. No past, no future, no present. No self. I am a discarded can. I am dry, empty. Starting to rust. My self has been subsumed so long, I’ve forgotten where I placed it. I am this lifeless body, corpse, carcass that’s misplaced its soul, and the rot is starting. I am this junk vessel, top hollow, bottom swirling with bile and sludge. I am going, soon be gone.

2009-07-10T18:02:00.000+08:00

Strain harder. Run faster. Move quicker. Rise higher.

You have to.

No one will wait.

You have to.

I remember when I stood, and with my head raised, I had to squint to shield my eyes from the falling raindrops. Hit my face, my clothes, my body, drenching. Looked out over the water, the expanse soothing. The wind touches me, and I shiver, but just a little. I’ll get used to it. I got used to it.

Riding with the pack. Roadbikes, and then there’s me. With my fat tires. Them, with their swift road tires. For every ounce of their effort, it takes me thrice just to keep up. As I strain, I reach the recesses of my being, reach into a reserve of primal energy and go on maniacally.

I have to.

I.

2009-06-26T17:37:00.000+08:00

Dear Friend,

Thank you for being there. By there, I mean here, by me. Thank you for being how you are. You’ll have your own family soon, and I am happy for that, and wish you, and your family, only the best. My powers are limited, at best. But whatever I have, whatever I am, is at your disposal, should you need it. Our closeness - not measured by proximity, nor time.

But by bond, and brotherhood.

Me

2009-06-26T17:22:00.000+08:00

The feelings ripple within. Waves bouncing off my insides. Churning, churning.

The gulp in my throat.

The path. Me walking along it. Strolling at times, trudging at time, crawling at times.

I look at my shadow, and smile wearily. I had hope, and now, I have my shadow.

I would caress you if I could. Rip you away from my feet, and embrace you. Having you, is bittersweet. You’re the devil I know. At least.

2009-04-03T16:12:00.001+08:00

To whom do I belong?

To the one who makes me smile.

To the one who makes me laugh.

To the one who makes me dream.

To the one who makes me better.

To the one who makes me whole.

To the one who makes me love.

To the one I do the same for.

To the one.

I’m yours.

2009-04-01T11:15:00.002+08:00

Moving… Moving… Grooving… Grooving… Smoothing…

Moving forward… Want to… Go faster… Not fast enough… Want to… Need to… Go faster… Being left being… Can’t… Can’t get left behind... Don’t know… If time is being wasted… Need to… Do more… Need to… Go Faster… Want to do… So much more… Arrggghhhh…

Let the fire stay… Burn inside… Till the end… Want to burn… Throw myself in the fire… Let me be burnt… Or let me burn… Always managed to stretch myself… Will stretch myself…

Burn with me… Let us burn together… Till the day we burn to ashes…

Burn…

2009-03-11T18:30:00.002+08:00

Forgive my quirks, my shortcomings, my weaknesses, my foibles, my idiosyncrasies, my peculiarities.

Forgive my intensity of feeling, which sometimes brings us both intense discomfort.

Forgive my illogic, I think of you with my heart, not my brain. And when emotions rush through me, I find it hard to act as sensibly as I usually do.

Forgive my absent-mindedness, which despite me, is still a part of me. Though when it comes to you, I try to take special care, as I never have for anything else.

Forgive me, and I foresee a lot of forgiving needing to be done in the course of us, for I also foresee our course as being long, and if there is an end, I do not see it.

2009-02-01T20:50:00.002+08:00

Was… So close to… Losing you…
We were… So close to… Losing each other…

Something, others could never claim to have.
In such a short amount of time, so quickly, so sudden, tested.
Without warning, without preparation, without caution.
We were tested.
And, without hesitation, without thinking, without consideration for our own self.
Rather than our own self, we chose each other.

Didn’t wish for it to happen.
But glad that, it opened my eyes, made me see, what I have, what we have.

Dare to say: I will never ever be able to find else someone like you. Not close. Not ever. Never want to. I’ve already found you. And you've already found me.

How many more days do we have?
We don’t know.
What we do know, is that we’ll cherish them together...

2009-02-01T20:47:00.002+08:00

Dear Yules,

I guess this is it. You are free now. Free from The Neighbour (!!!). To my good-friend-who-happens-to-be-a-girl, I wish you the best. You will continue to have my constant friendship (minus the constant irritation). Whatever you do, think of me and remember the year-plus that we spent talking, gossiping, complaining, griping, bitching, commiserating, consoling and whining together, and just being a friend to each other.

Your Perpetual Neighbour,
Daniel

2009-01-07T16:47:00.000+08:00

You. Don’t look at me like that, your gaze is the brightest sun melting the softest butter. Don’t hold me like that, my defences go down and my legs are jelly. Don’t smile at me like that, I swoon and can’t think straight.

No. Actually. Never stop looking at me. Never stop holding me. Never stop smiling at me. Never stop loving me…

2009-01-06T10:18:00.000+08:00

Standing with you
We knew we’d be forever
Oh and when you held my hand
I knew it was now or never
These are the best days of my life

2008-12-23T17:48:00.000+08:00

Don't wanna miss a thing, with you.

2008-12-23T16:42:00.001+08:00

You see through me, into me, and see me for what I am.

And I’m glad that after doing so, you chose me, as I have chosen you.

2008-12-23T10:05:00.002+08:00

Pigeonholed Hard

Apologies, not a lemming.

2008-12-15T10:10:00.000+08:00

We get it on most every night
when that moon is big and bright
its a supernatural delight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

we get
everybody here is out of sight
they dont bark and they dont bite
they keep things loose they keep it tight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
everybodys feeling warm and bright
its such a fine and natural sight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

we like our fun and we never fight
you cant dance and stay uptight
its a supernatural delight
everybody was dancing in the moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
everybodys feeling warm and bright
its such a fine and natural sight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

we get in on most every night
and when that moon is big and bright
its a supernatural delight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

dancing in the moonlight
everybodys feeling warm and bright
its such a fine and natural sight
everybodys dancing in the moonlight

2008-12-14T17:08:00.000+08:00

I could never hug you tight enough. Could never hold you close enough. Could never kiss you deep enough. Could never see you long enough. For it to be enough.

You’re the first to have helped me get pass my reticence, reluctance, reservations, and reach out. It was on that breakwater on the beach, being one with you, when I realised. What was fear and doubt and pride and ego? When I could have Happiness? What was everything else? When I could have You?

2008-12-11T11:53:00.000+08:00

In which ever way the wind is blowing, I will kindle our love till the world stops turning. I’ll keep this fire burning. Even when there is no light above, when it comes to you and me, I’ll keep it burning.

I’ll be your friend, your lover, your light.

2008-12-06T19:01:00.002+08:00

Sun rays pour in through the glass.
Sunshine and me, bathed in warmth.
Outside, and in - warmth.
The light has a, different hue, in the liminality of late afternoon and evening.
The fragrance of coffee seasons the air, but besides that, the air seems fresher, full of life.
Could it be because I’m sitting beside her?
A curtain of hair, brown-tinged black, shy her face away as she looks down to read.
Her lips glimmer in the sunlight, the rest of her glows.
Looking at her, thinking of her, subtly smiling for her.

She asks me to change seats, and I ask why. She says she wants me to sit beside her, closer.
At that moment, I was a pile of clay… Her pile of clay…

I take her hand, and I kiss it. And wish her scent never leaves my lips.

2008-12-03T22:39:00.002+08:00

Twist throttle. Sneer. Fists clenched. Eyes squint. Brake in contempt. Catch me? Go ahead. Haha! Sob… Yeah! Arrgghhhh! Save me from myself. Hey you, watch me! Strange: this world. This world: strange. Stranger on the planet: I am.

Disjointed? Totally!

2008-12-03T10:32:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, I don’t know how you feel.
Sometimes, I don’t know exactly how I feel.
So, will you light up the way into your heart?
And, in doing so, light up my heart for all times.

2008-12-02T14:11:00.001+08:00

"I don't want the world to see me
Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am”

2008-12-02T10:30:00.000+08:00

My first, and my last.

2008-11-28T13:12:00.002+08:00

Signifier: Sweet and Chewy Fruitella Strawberry

Signified: Chewy Sweetness! Burst of Sunshine in the mouth! Sweet memories!

2008-11-27T15:27:00.000+08:00

Rushing. Firefighting. Things going wrong. Multiple critical issues all requiring immediate and undivided attention. Feel like puking. I’m in heaven – if I were a sadomasochist…

Taking a short breather to post.

Single, solitary ray of light. Sunshine. One is enough. How could Sunshine be lovely, cuddly, huggable, make you do silly things, make you lose sleep, and most importantly, make you smile, altogether? Gathering courage to say properly what has been, but not really said.

2008-11-23T16:35:00.002+08:00

You’re the sun that shines on me. And also the moon that pulls the ebb and flow of my tide.

You’re a butterfly, and every flap of your wing effects a hurricane within me.

Beside you. Facing away, but I’m watching you, and thinking of you. Every time you rub your neck and arms, and I see your skin irritated red, I worry. Every time I see you coughing, I wish it was me instead.

You touch my face to wake me up, and I reach out to hold your hand. Only for a moment, but it was enough to know it felt right. That your hand belonged in mine, and mine, in yours. And when I had to let go, it was with great reluctance.

2008-11-17T21:43:00.003+08:00

Worried.

Of speeding. Of going too fast. And then being clamped down for that. Hard to gauge when there’s no obvious speed limit sign. Or a warning letter before my advance is arrested. Even if there is, the sign’s vague and I can’t make out the details. So I don’t know, if I’m going too fast, too slow, or going just right.

Analogies: convenient little things.

2008-11-17T21:37:00.000+08:00

Unlikely friends.

Started out on the wrong foot. Rubbing the wrong way sometimes. Took a while to size each other up. I’m not unaware that I’m a difficult personality. I try to make up for it in other ways, if I can, if I’m not obliviously wandering in my own world. For the long haul. Looking to the future together. Destinies intertwined? Maybe not so dramatic. But there’s alignment.

Let’s try to see if we can’t make a tasty rojak together.

2008-11-16T22:09:00.001+08:00

2008-11-16T21:33:00.000+08:00

Missing.

Like feeling that you’ve forgotten something but can’t remember what it was. Just that this time, the feeling lingers, and you know what it is you’re missing. Sunday morning, sitting at a café feeling lost, and the music isn’t helping.

Want to find it back soon.

2008-11-14T17:20:00.001+08:00

Looking forward to the end of the day.
So my day can break, and I can be whole again.
So I can see the sun, be awakened, and be alive again.
So bright and sunny, I crave its rays, its warmth bathing my cheeks.
Thinking of the sun - want to be in its glow.

2008-11-13T16:40:00.000+08:00

If the face turns red, it’s not flushed – it’s a blush. Weariness of the day, overcome by light-headed, fuzzy warmth. Directing dreams in the sleep, and carrying onto the next day. If this was a remote island, I would have no use for a boat.

2008-11-12T15:28:00.000+08:00

Oh, where art thou? Haven’t heard, or seen anything for this day. There’s this creeping, sinking feeling coming over. Like being held aloft previously, and when without, gravity starts to pull down. No wonder it’s a rainy day again – the sun’s missing.

2008-11-08T04:36:00.001+08:00

Worried. Of not being up to it.
Why. Do you look so sad.
Don’t know. Who I am.
Trying to. Find out who you are.
Wish I could. Help more.
Going. With the flow.
Let me. Know more.

2008-11-03T12:10:00.002+08:00

Caught myself smiling. Then I realised, my mind was somewhere else. Not far, far, away. But still, thinking. Hard to focus when half your brain’s been taken up. The RAM has already been allocated, willingly. Going more on the fuzziest of fuzzy logics now than on being logical…

2008-11-01T02:46:00.001+08:00

Don’t know. If it’ll end up, like how I always do. Need. To. Get along with the rest of the human species. Still figuring out how. Please, be patient with me. Not, used to other humans. Not, even comfortable with meself. Don’t know, if words are all I’m capable of. Hope – not. Let down – I might turn out to be. Hope: that I’ll live up. Why: Is it always a struggle? Hope: That I’m more good than harm.

2008-10-29T17:48:00.000+08:00

Just because it was mute before, doesn’t mean that when it speaks it’s barking.

2008-10-27T23:17:00.000+08:00

Switching the MP3 off – but another beat is starting to play.

Looking at the screen – thinking somewhere else.

Laughing my heart out – outside laughing, inside smiling.

Food turning cold – sorry Food, you know I’ll always love you.

Hours passing – how did light turn to night so fast?

Time to go – watching till out of sight.

2008-10-26T02:08:00.001+08:00

A little more than two years since this began.

At least, I can say, I’ve made the first, few, baby steps towards the direction I want to go before the eventuality of death. What have I done since? Accomplished how much? The reticence to answer doesn’t signify well.

In some areas I have shuffled forward. In some others I have stumbled backwards. At least I haven’t stagnated. At least I’m not in the same place I was before, looking around and realising that everything – including my youth – has moved on without me.

At least I still have my two best friends. I’m not exactly sure, how things are supposed to go, when you’re best friends growing old. We’re not technically old, but I do feel that way, and I’m thankful for that grounded, mature feeling. Like a mature glass of wine, instead of a can of fizzy drink. I’m not sure how things will be when you’re both married, with children, and with the corresponding competing concerns. I’ve chosen my best friends, and this number is unlikely to increase through the course of my life. And even though our directions might diverge, I hope we’ll continue sharing our joys and sadness, and continue mutually being able to be the few people in the world we can be totally true with.

At least I’ve felt a few incipient, doubtful yet hopeful stirrings that might just prove that I’m not totally hopeless. And I hope that whatever I’ll do, on balance, it’ll be for the better. To generate more smiles; to mean something.

2008-10-25T12:05:00.001+08:00

A day-making smile.

Went against my better nature. Ventured. Surprised that it sounded so expected. As if just waiting. Glad that it did. Looking forward to it.

New hobby: collecting smiles.

2008-10-25T11:59:00.001+08:00

Her hair is Harlowe gold
Her lips sweet surprise
Her hands are never cold
She's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll turn her music on you
You won't have to think twice
She's pure as New York snow
She got Bette Davis eyes

And she'll tease you
She'll unease you
All the better just to please you
She's precocious and she knows just
What it takes to make a pro blush
She got Greta Garbo stand off sighs
She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll let you take her home
It whets her appetite
She'll lay you on her throne
She got Bette Davis eyes
She'll take a tumble on you
Roll you like you were dice
Until you come out blue
She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll expose you, when she snows you
Off your feet with the crumbs she throws you
She's ferocious and she knows just
What it takes to make a pro blush
All the boys think she's a spy
She's got Bette Davis eyes

And she'll tease you
She'll unease you
All the better just to please ya
She's precocious, and she knows just
What it takes to make a pro blush
All the boys think she's a spy
She's got Bette Davis eyes

She'll tease you
She'll unease you
Just to please ya
She's got Bette Davis eyes
She'll expose you, when she snows you
She knows ya
She's got Bette Davis eyes

2008-09-20T00:30:00.000+08:00

Should’ve trusted myself. Will trust myself from now on. Heed my own. Never go wrong. Don’t be swayed. Don’t falter. Be true. To yourself. You must. For there is only you. Fish-stick among piranhas.

-

They’re gonna get me one day. I know it. Roadkill. Here lies roadkill. He was. And then he wasn’t. Fly on the windscreen. To escape your fate – drive a tank. Either make roadkill, or be roadkill. Either or. No neither nor. It’s a beautiful world – if you don’t believe it. Thank you, have a nice day, and come back again!

2008-09-16T20:33:00.000+08:00

Kicking myself. Should have said something. Should have done something. Something to stand up for. Should have stood up. I’m so dumb. I’m so dumb. Even asked further, goondu that I am. What the heck?! Stupid enough to open my mouth, yet not brave enough to say something. Inertial. Inertial. So easy to just let it go. And I did. Argh. Let down.

2008-09-14T01:49:00.001+08:00

True, but inconvenient, hidden with displays of hostility, inexpressible.

2008-09-11T17:33:00.002+08:00

You feel very affected when someone’s nice to you. It doesn’t really matter why someone’s acting this way. Or even if someone is just being distantly polite. You’re uncontrollably affected and your insides feel like they’re churning. And it takes a bit of effort to seem unmoved. The most you can do is stare ahead and not say a word. You think you shouldn’t feel, but you do.

2008-09-09T00:36:00.001+08:00

I am so happy.

For you, my friend. I am happy.

Happy because you’ve found your One. Because you’ve done what you’d wanted to. Because you’ve found happiness, and committed to it. Because what you’ve found is good for you. And you, good for what you’ve found. Nobody has it easy, and I’m sure it won’t all be all easy for you as well. That is ineluctable. But I am happy because I know you. I know you’ll get through the not-so-easy times just as well as you get through the easier times. Because I know that if there is anyone who can make something important like this work, it is you.

Happy because of the fact itself. Happy that I can be happy for you. That in spite of myself, I can be happy for someone else. That I can feel joy vicariously through you. That I can look at your happiness, and feel the happiness within me, irrepressible. That I can grin stupidly as I share your joy, and not care about looking like a fool. That I can realise for a moment, in spite of all self-consciousness, that what really matters are those close to you. Not those in close proximity, and yet strangers. But those who can’t fail to look upon you with all partiality. Those who’ll be on your side even if you’re wrong, because to them, your side is the right side to be.

Happy for you.

2008-09-06T01:19:00.001+08:00

I love.

The Open Road.

Cruising along. Not really without a care in the world. But cognisant of them, yet detached, distant, for the moment.

The music plays. It serenades me on my journey. An appreciated companion. Like my buddy sitting beside.

I don’t think I always know how to behave as a good friend. But I always try to remind myself. I don’t always remember. But I try to.

Someone once assured me that I’d never be alone. That I’d always have a constant companion. I don’t know. Possibly, that constant companion, those constant companions are my alternate egos. The different persons I am.

Suicidal. At times. Maybe a whimsical thought. Could it be that I look forward to the rest of my life. Yet wouldn’t mind an ending, at the same time. No one to live for. Selfish, maybe.

I want to die from an overdose. See what the mind can show. Go to the edge, the furthest edge. And if the price is not coming back from the edge, then maybe it isn’t too much a price to pay.

Disconnected; Dislocated.

2008-09-04T02:02:00.000+08:00

Don’t!

Don’t let me infinitesimally, inexorable become one of the Detested.

Don’t let me be swayed by opinions, pre-mis-conceptions from people who matter none.

Don’t let me rot from the inside out, leaving only a fig leaf of what-once-was.

Don’t.

2008-09-04T01:31:00.001+08:00

Chickens of the world – UNITE!

The world shall be oblivious to genius... NO LONGER!

For TODAY is OUR DAY!

TODAY is DA DAY!

When the little people shall understand (however mind-straining).

YES! The little people WILL understand!

That we’re simply BETTER than they are!

We are SUPERIOR!

SO we shall TRIUUMPPHHH!

Truutttthhhh BEEE told:

We are ALPHA COCKS!

And the sun RISES to hear us CROW!

COCKA-DOOODLE-DOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

HEEAAARRRR MEEEEE CROOOOOOWWW!

2008-08-28T23:41:00.001+08:00

Confusion. Feel. Of. Defenestration.

Was riding down this street I’d never been before. Didn’t know the way, but it seemed in the general direction I was heading. And since I don’t plan my route, it just seemed the natural thing to do. Some way down the surroundings started to look really unfamiliar - guess it wasn’t the way after all.

Then when I started to look out for a turn off the street, I started to be unsure of my directions again.

They should make maps for this…

2008-08-23T17:31:00.000+08:00

Inch forward gingerly. Once close, beat a smooth retreat. Repeat.

Getting things sorted out. Some, of your own doing. Self-destructive. Yourself – not your biggest fan. Opps! Biggest habit: creating opps. Old, but not grown up. Not good; not entirely bad. Sigh-inducing. But don’t want to stop mattering.

Disjointment – can’t stand it…

2008-07-19T13:44:00.002+08:00

Don’t get me wrong
If I’m looking kind of dazzled
I see neon lights
Whenever you walk by

Don’t get me wrong
If you say hello and I take a ride
Upon a sea where the mystic moon
Is playing havoc with the tide
Don’t get me wrong

Don’t get me wrong
If I’m acting so distracted
I’m thinking about the fireworks
That go off when you smile

Don’t get me wrong
If I split like light refracted
I’m only off to wander
Across a moonlit mile

Once in a while
Two people meet
Seemingly for no reason
They just pass on the street
Suddenly thunder, showers everywhere
Who can explain the thunder and rain
But there’s something in the air

Don’t get me wrong
I come and go like fashion
I might be great tomorrow
But hopeless yesterday

Don’t get me wrong
If I fall in the mode of passion
It might be unbelievable
But let’s not say so long
It might just be fantastic
Don’t get me wrong

What a sweet little song!

2008-07-18T20:46:00.001+08:00

I am drowning. The water comes in incessant waves. I try to gasp for breath but instead of air, I get a mouthful of seawater. Not even inching forward, keeping my head above water is already draining my strength. I keep popping Panadol, and washing them down with Red Bull. But it makes the nauseousness even worse. It’s not even the number of hours that gets to me, it’s the constant state of being harried; taking fire from many sides. Getting hammered by the waves, and I try to keep my mind by hammering away at the keyboard. I dread the icon that appears onscreen as an email makes its way in. I want to scream at every ring of the phone. The office phone rings, it’s late and I’m not supposed to be in the office, so I ignore it. Then my personal handphone starts to ring! I want to hide at home, stare at the ceiling, and ignore everyone. How did the sound of happy people get so annoying? How did it get to the point that I’m squeezing my legs together because I’m furiously rushing something and had to put off going to the toilet? How does the frown jump onto my forehead on Monday mornings when I wake up, and linger through the week? I feel the life sapping out of me. I feel silent rage when I’m told, with a straight face, that two hundred dollars is going to place a huge strain on the company. And the strain of keeping my thoughts to myself is an added indignation. I feel exploited. Only the hope that temporary tribulation will be the ticket to a better place keeps me going.

Happy, I am not.

2008-07-05T19:43:00.000+08:00

Getting harder. To pretend. To act nonchalant. Sometimes you lapse into truthfulness - let your instincts take over. Then you shake your head furiously. Like trying to ward off sleepiness on a long drive you shake your head to stave off the inevitable. It’s easier to leave unsaid. And I guess, logical. What do you expect? And, by the way, this is not how you want to be. This is not what you should be; not what you told yourself to be. Wake up your idea.

Wake up.

2008-06-29T02:26:00.005+08:00

2008-06-29T00:29:00.000+08:00

2008-06-29T00:19:00.001+08:00

Could it be you wanted it because you couldn’t have it? Otherwise how was it that that you could have, you didn’t want? Have you felt like that before? No. Would you ever feel like that again? You don’t know. One must know what one can have, or cannot have. And be content with what is.

Tough, though.

2008-06-08T12:03:00.000+08:00

2008-06-08T12:01:00.000+08:00

2008-06-08T09:17:00.000+08:00

2008-06-07T11:57:00.001+08:00

Speeding along. Cruising along. Drifting along. Sometimes faster. Sometimes slower. An analogy for man. The cars have gotten a bit faster and a bit sleeker. But they’re still going around in circles. Round and round and round and round. Shave off a few seconds here and there. Lose a few seconds here and there. The lap plays out like the lap before and will be followed by a similar lap after. Not going anywhere, just knowing that we’re going. How much has actually changed? Hate hasn’t lost its passion, love hasn’t lost its bitter-sweetness, death hasn’t lost its persistence. A cause for exasperation, for relief, and for sparkles of thought emanating from nowhere.

2008-06-01T15:51:00.003+08:00

Trying, Tried. Maybe not trying hard enough. Maybe barking up the wrong tree. Like throwing tennis balls against the wall, and having them not bounce back. So you throw and you throw and you throw and you throw. But they’re just not bouncing back. And if you’re prepared to keep throwing and throwing without having them bounce back, then you can keep on keeping on. But I don’t think you can. I don’t think you have the energy. Or the inclination to.

You remember. You remember the time you couldn’t remember when you felt so happy. When it seemed your mouth was fixed into a smile. It was the only time when trying to pause from smiling took more effort than just letting the smile be. When sitting across, you subconsciously leaned towards, and only realised it when you momentarily shifted weight to lean back. And even as you leaned towards, you felt drawn, you felt parts of yourself trying to close the distance, trying to reach out. And even though it’d been several hours, it seemed so short, and you didn’t want to leave.

So you fall back on the reliable. The walking among the crowds. Walking through and relishing the anonymity. Enjoying the smile that said “Do not disturb, I’m not totally right,” and “I’m okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” both at the same time. Relishing those brief, ephemeral moments of contact with people I’ve never met before, and will never meet again. And wondering if that’s really the way I enjoy people.

2008-05-18T00:29:00.001+08:00

Afraid. Of going along without sorting out my thoughts. Of reaching a destination I didn’t intend to, then realising that there’s no way back. Tormented by the present, yet immobilised by fear.

2008-04-30T23:25:00.002+08:00

Riding up north tomorrow. Love the feeling: stuffing a few clothes into a bag, hopping onto your bike, and riding off into the somewhat unknown. The open road. Traveling towards the horizon. The road trip. A full tank, a bag of clothes, an open heart, and you’re ready to go.

Hmmnnn… Guess I should put a teeny weeny eeny more effort into finding someone who doesn’t mind riding pillion; someone I wouldn’t mind at all sitting behind me. But nonsense! I’m just rambling - see you when I get back!

2008-04-20T01:11:00.001+08:00

It’s really something: how a lack of communication leads to misunderstanding.

Misunderstanding is this seed planted inadvertently. It grows and grows, and when not weeded out in time, inevitably blossoms into this unimaginably ugly thing called conflict.

Something that started out so small, flukey even. That if not nipped in the bud, festers in its own dark corner of your mind, bidding its time. Waiting for the point when emotions break down restraint, before making a grand entrance. Storming through and leaving a trail of relationships-that-used-to-be in its path.

2008-04-18T01:32:00.002+08:00

They rush by: the cars, trundling down the tunnel. On their way home; on their way out; going on their way.

Making my own way home. Decided to stop by the wayside. Turn the key, place the stand, start watching the passing vehicles.

The Toyota pulls up behind the bike, and the woman emerges. Grey-haired, about fifty. Huffs to the concrete embankment by the side. The driver stays. Can’t see what he’s doing, probably just waiting. She stays there, returns, and then both are out of the car. Her screaming at him. Him staying silent, and I think he knows he’d done something wrong. Me being invisible. To them, I don’t constitute the public. And it kinda seems weird to me, this old couple having a lovers’ spat. You’d think that all the kinks would’ve been ironed out ages before. But I guess that’s just my silly thinking.

Moved a little closer. Should I do something? Is there anything I should be doing? Any conceivable way I could help? Maybe calm them down a little? Hmmnnn… Didn’t think so. And didn't envision myself a nosey parker. So I not notice them, as convincingly as possible.

Doors slam, then tyres screech as they pull back out onto the motorway. A startled driver horns, and disaster is just barely averted. I resist the urge to shake my head - not sure that I’ll never ever be in the same situation.

Just silently wish them well, then wonder if good thoughts, at least by themselves, ever made a difference.

2008-04-17T00:04:00.002+08:00

Alone. Walking alone. Working alone. Being alone. Going at my own pace. Not struggling to keep up. Not worrying if I’m going too fast, or too slow. Inching my way through a mass of hundreds, yet still managing not to be one of the crowd. It’s vulnerable: when you consider yourself part of something. And then realise otherwise.

Everything has a beginning. Everything has an original reason. Go back far enough, and you can always find the source. And when you finally find it, it’ll seem trite, inconsequential. And wonder how it came about in the first place. But now is now; then is then. Now you have hindsight, now you’re no longer in that same position you were so many moments ago. But then, at then, it was the most logical chain of events, it was the only thing that could’ve happened.

Ahh… When was it? When you were young, that’s when it was. When that structure was the only thing you’ve ever known, the only thing you ever had the chance to learn to trust, the only thing you knew. And you still felt, then. You still cared. You were still weak. Then it started to wear out. Started to break down. And at first you were affected. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know. And that feeling wasn’t comfortable. It was a new feeling, yes, and it didn’t feel right.

How long did it take? Now, you can’t really remember. But, thankfully, long enough for you to figure out the trick. To find the best way of dealing. To find the best way of making by. And it was by building. By building walls. By going numb. By not caring. You see, when you don’t have a stake, you’ve got nothing to lose. You’re free. You’re protected. You’d found the answer, the solution to all your problems. Your panacea. So when you saw tears, you forced yourself not to tear as well, ‘cause you convinced yourself that it didn’t concern you – you’d mastered the hardest task of all: deceiving yourself. And you did it well, and it did you well, ‘cause you’ve managed to make it thus far, haven’t you?

And when you crash, and fall, and inside you’re burning, you pick yourself up and say: “You think you’d got me? You actually think you’d got me? Ahahahahahaha!” And as you felt your flesh twisted and cringed, you laughed, and laughs were never so manic. And when you walk in a crowd, you walk in contempt. Not because you felt yourself better, but because you thought the worst of yourself, and knew the rest of them to be no better.

And so you embrace it. It works. It’s brought you through most of your life. It’s tried and tested. Proven! Guaranteed! An unshakeable formula! The Answer! Never depend on anyone. Never expect from anyone. Never totally trust anyone. And so never get disappointed. Never be caught out on a limb. Never be let down.

Though sometimes you wonder: Is there another way? But you wouldn’t know. ‘Cause you’ve never tried. And so you plod on, wearing the same worn-out, but comfortable shoes. Afraid of the blisters that’ll hurt when you first try out something new. Yes, so I guess, in your fear, you’ve sought to protect yourself by fear.

And so I plod on.

2008-03-22T23:28:00.003+08:00

You were always there. One way or the other.

In the beginning we were young, and childish; ignorant of that fact, and blissful for it. Walked home everyday together. Though we’d already spent the entire day in class and lived just a few blocks from each other, we didn’t want to go home. Six years - a blink of the eye. Back then, we didn’t have a past, and wasn’t aware that there was a future. Few freedoms, and fewer indulgences. But we had the greatest one of all – we had the shared laugh. The only thing that can, for a moment, make one truly equal with another. The only thing that can, for that moment, make those sharing it, the most precious thing in all the earth. And make everything else seem trite and petty. Though I don’t know where you are, or how you are, and if I met you today on the street I might not be meeting the same person who was my friend, but I still think of you, and the thoughts are an unquenchable reserve of smiles.

Inevitably we got a little older. Not fully adults. But introduced to enough of the burdens of life to rule us out as children. Might not have always been on the same side, or on the same page, but we’ve always been on each other’s side. This time the bad was shared along with the good. And part of what bound us together was the gloominess that tied us down. In some way we validated each other; served as proof that we were not as uniquely messed up as we thought ourselves. Blows we even came to once, but what we had together, made it a speck of dust. I don’t know why I didn’t see it coming. Part of me fumes at your lack of warning. Part of me fumes that I didn’t do more at first when it happened. And though now, through chance, I’m able to reach out to reconnect, there’s a yawning gap between us that I don’t know how to cross.

Then I found you in a place I didn’t think I would. Always thought that real friendships were impossible in a workplace. Guess I was wrong. And you’re a reason to go to work every morning, knowing I won’t be alone in the office. Being able to share your feelings and thoughts with someone, and feeling comfortable enough to say things that might get you playfully mocked, but not judged. And having someone who’ll actually give a hoot about how you’re feeling, or instinctively know when something’s amiss. Do you know that one of the job benefits spells out as your name?

You might have been different persons, but you were always there. One way or another. And who knows, there might even be more of you in future. Just always know, that I’m always grateful, I’ll always remember, and I’ll always be your friend.

Friends: through life, for life.

2008-03-22T22:20:00.002+08:00

Fingernails dig into the palms. So hard I think they must be bleeding. But the warm trickle I’m expecting doesn’t come. Not clenching hard enough. Muscles ache from the exertion. But I can’t let go. Arms at the ready, fists balled, is how to face the world.

Three lovely ladies dancing. By any means I should be roused, allured. Or there’s something really wrong with me. But within that little separation of a few centimetres, lies a million miles. Eyes closed, facing upwards. Seeing darkness. The deafening music drowns out the teeming voices. In the silence of the pulsating beats and the blackness, the secret place is found. Not the happy place with happy thoughts, but my secret place with my thoughts - my place. Where every uncertainty, every doubt, every disappointment, every awkwardness, every fear, every moment of clenched teeth, every aborted scream and yell, is held safe. For when I need to find myself.

Music that blasts out any hope of conversation. Dim lighting that makes a sometimes sardonic, sometimes grim grin, look convincingly like an ecstatic smile. Everyone’s having a good time. Isn’t necessary for everyone to enjoy it for the same reason. I decided that I like it.

Me likey.

2008-03-01T10:48:00.000+08:00

Goodbye

Me manager’s goodbye-ing. Going to miss the frown that tickles his forehead whenever Neighbor and I approach him with a tricky situation. The way he hunches over the oh-so-ridiculously-small (and light and cool) laptop and peers over the cubicle divider when talking to us. Shoulders and arms still poised in typing position, ready to pounce right back on the keyboard – it has no chance of escape. As if the problem would be solvable under 60 seconds if he didn’t deign to emerge from The Life Alphabetic. And somehow it works enough times to say it works.

Going to miss the way he briefs a copy project. The confidence he shows in my churning, and even if he means it matter-of-factly and not strictly meant to be encouraging, it still is. And in a way even more so. In some way it unsettles. ‘Cause I know it’s not a natural ability, but the result of much anxiety, brain-wringing, and frantic groping. Feeling about in the dark, it just so happens that I’ve been shamefully lucky enough always to have grabbed on something I can present without blushing.

Going to miss the things he doesn’t do, as much as the things he does. Like when a mistake’s made, or when something’s slipped your mind, and there’s not the slightest trace of rebuke, not the slimmest feel of negativity. As if only the goods are remembered, and the not-so-goods slip into Alzheimer’s.

Going to miss his way.

2008-02-23T20:17:00.002+08:00

Shooting the breeze...

No more hundred-and-seventy-clicks-per-hour hijinks for me anymore. It’s a thing of the past! I’ve moved on. Grown up! From now on it’s the slo-mo – cruising around easy, pacing it geriatric. Hey! And having a box’s kewl! Always having a pillion helmet around is handy, and it feels so much more free riding through the wind without an overstuffed bag weighing you down. Always feels better without baggage.

Timing. Was jaw-jawing about timing. The right, at the wrong time. Guess so much of everything’s based on timing. We Chinese call it Yuen-Fen, or round-shit. Could be something else, I’m not sure. But what I’m sure of is that we should try to make the most of the situation. One day at a time - the way it should be taken.

And we laugh till we cry
Always so hard to say goodbye
And we all sit around here
It’s so good like this; these are times we’ll miss
The memories, I hope they’ll never fade
I miss. Miss all the times we’ve laughed till we cried. Laughing without the slightest trace of malice. Laughing because we know each other so well. Laughing because we know we can, laughing because we know there won’t be a sour aftertaste. Laughing because we were all in it together. Laughing because we didn’t choose to be there, but after being forced, find out that we didn’t too much mind being around each other. Laughing because we know there won’t be too many chances in the future to make friends this way again. Laughing because we’re comfortable, being around mates you can leave your back-watching to. Laughing because at that time we didn’t yet feel like adults. Laughing because that’s what friends do together. Laughing till we cried.

I don’t think we’ll ever find such friends again.

2008-02-22T00:11:00.001+08:00

Well, I guess third time lucky doesn’t always apply. Tried three times. And it’s the very first time I’ve actually tried. And I don’t even know what happened. At least nobody can say now that I’ve never tried. Maybe it’s payback for all the lackadaisical that I’ve dished out. Maybe it’s karma, ohhmmm…

Think I’ll return to the backseat for a while. Let the dust settle and the fog to clear before checking things out. Return to that comfy, old, worn-in position that’s always felt so much of home. Put back on the familiar old pair of shoes. Sigh, feel like I’m wasting all my friends’ encouragement and goodwill.

2008-02-17T15:36:00.000+08:00

2008-02-17T15:32:00.000+08:00

2008-02-17T15:31:00.000+08:00

2008-02-17T15:29:00.000+08:00

2008-02-17T15:28:00.000+08:00

2008-02-17T15:25:00.000+08:00

2008-02-17T15:20:00.000+08:00

2008-02-16T22:49:00.000+08:00

[Lady in Red sashays in the background…]

Flutter. It can only be described as such. Moving from one to another. Always thinking it’ll be the last stop. Always full of hope. Always full of trepidation. Edging forward gingerly. Needing a little (or not so) gentle nudging to advance ever so slightly. Every step a tiptoe. Every breath held.

Ineluctably, the point where it’s your move comes. Sometimes the step of faith is taken. But most times it isn’t. ‘Cause every crossroads has a safer path. And this is the path more trodden. So nothing ever has the chance of being broken. And also means there’s the chance of nothing.

Simply ask yourself if you know definitely that you’re the best deal available. Or if you can provide the best of everything that you would want to provide. Or if you can guarantee without a doubt, a happy ending. And it’s enough to make you pause, halt you in your tracks, make you think again. And again. And again. Till thinking time’s out and drifting time begins...

2008-01-12T02:05:00.001+08:00

Guess I needed a wake up call.

And as wake up calls go, this should count as a relatively mild one. Nothing’s missing, and everything’s where they’re supposed to be. Think I should make a late New-Year’s resolution – I resolve not to die in a horrific bike accident. At least for this year. ‘Cause I’ve no clue how this year might play out. Could be interesting. And 6-feet under doesn’t offer a good view. I wannabe in the front row. I wanna ring-side seat. I wanna wanna. And inanimates can’t wanna. So I wanna keep the pulse moving; keep the pulse racing, by safer ways. Will the resolution be resolute? Can’t tell; can try.

I appreciate your concern, Yules. And it’s appreciation, not the obligatory thanks. There’re people who think they’re good people although they’re not naturally so, and there’re people who might not think they’re ‘GOOD’ people although they are, and just think that that’s the way that people naturally should behave. And it just so happens that I think you one of the latter. It’s the small things that speak the loudest. Small things like asking to take-away a cake so someone could keep it for after breaking fast. Like wanting to share the cost of something even though there was absolutely no obligation to do so. Like accompanying someone who needs to pack lunch from somewhere else, so that she wouldn’t be going alone. Might be waxing lyrical here, and that’s just me. But there’s no smoke without fire, and there’s an element of truth within my bombast. Just so you know, for whatever it’s worth, what I think.

I appreciate your concern, Dan. And it’s appreciation, not the obligatory thanks. How do you tell when someone means something to you and not just squat? – When you feel the need to let them know when something has happened to you. And when you know they’d respond immediately and unreservedly. And I appreciate you for being someone I’m not afraid to show my less-than-finest to.

Woof!

2008-01-09T22:15:00.001+08:00

Can’t see clearly – the raindrops are hitting the visor too quickly, barely a moment for a drop to run off before the next drop takes its place, and there’s a perpetual semi-translucent film of water that I’m trying to peer through. Tried to swipe off the layer of water with my gloved palm, but it only works for a second, and confidence in my own skills doesn’t extend to riding all the way with one hand. So I make do. I can estimate the lay of the road from the tail-lights in front. On the first lane, and long as I don’t exceed the rightmost tail-light, I know I’m not going to meet the railing along the expressway.

Getting knocked about by the wind – it keeps bumping into me and trying to shove me off. But I’ve made up my mind some time ago not to be pushed around, so I lean forward behind the little piece of plastic that counts for a windscreen on my bike, and it could be psychological, but I feel the speed somehow increase from the reduced drag.

They’re painful – horizontal raindrops feel different from vertical raindrops. You’ve interrupted their passage from sky to ground, they’re pissed off, and they let you know. They pierce into you, and leave their footsteps on the parts you’ve neglected to shield from the rain. So every I’m-riding-in-the-rain leaves you with a curious v-shaped welt on the neck where your shirt doesn’t meet your skin. Kinda like a love-bite from the rain. And, in a way, yes, you’ve gotten somewhat intimate with it, with the rain seeping into your shoes and trousers even with full rain gear on.

And then a silver of sense springs into mind: you don’t actually have to do this. You can slow down, you can park and wait by the side of the road for the rain to subside, you’re being crazy. You ease off on the throttle, give the brakes a gentle nudge, come on, let’s be sensible here.

Then it hits. The storehouse of ‘argh’, ‘ugh’, and ‘what the?!’ pours forth. And WATEVER takes over. And being irrational feels somehow right. And you go, who cares man…

How do you explain it to someone who isn’t you, who doesn’t know what on earth you’re talking about? Just ask the person to re-live the last time he / she felt frustrated, lost, angry, disappointed, ashamed, shocked. This is my slamming-the-door, my stamping-the-foot, my pushing-things-off-the-desk, this is my way.

The expression is different, but it comes from the same feeling.

2007-12-21T22:57:00.000+08:00

Guess this goes back up. Took it down originally ‘cause it struck myself as being overly pessimistic. Somewhat melodramatic, somewhat over-the-top. Then I realised that it was only because it didn’t gel with my preferred view of myself, that it was simply a raw unpolished, unembellished nugget of me.
Poof! What a navel-gazer, what a fop!

It tries to get me.

Slithering, stealing around in the shadows it lurks. It knows I know. So it stalks. It doesn’t pounce. It has no need to. It bids its time. It’s patient. It knows I’m not. It waits. It knows my guard can’t always be up. Unlike how I can always manage to be down. It’s my shadow. My constant companion. It… mitigates me. Keeps me from going too far. From rising too high. It binds me. Sometimes I strain against its fetters, once the skin’s rubbed raw enough, I naturally stop – I eventually stop trying.

Come to think of it. It has never abandoned me, or forgotten about me, or let me wander off on my own for a while. It’s always faithful, it’s always around. And I don’t think it’ll ever let me go. It’s the thing at the back of my head telling me: “So you think you can, eh?”

Sometimes I’m caught with it on my face. But I’ve always managed to laugh it off. Always managed not to seem too serious, always managed to avoid saying what’s on my mind. Guess I’ve always thought that pretending long enough would eventually make you the carefree person you always wanted to be. And somehow, some part of me still believes in that.