Totally shameless existence, honey.

MOVIN' NOTICE

2006-11-02T20:32:00.000+08:00

all you people who secretly have my blog address :D

i'm gonna move in a bid to escape from the inefficiencies of the blogger-system. don't ask me cuz i'll tell you my new add. hehheh >)

P.S. It's still starting up, so if you see what looks like emptiness and ugliness, pardon me. meanwhile i shall be adding things on :D

Breached.

2006-11-02T20:02:00.000+08:00

(i wanted to add this to blogger a looong time ago, but every time i tried to it just wouldn't work. so, now that i finally am able to, here's a disclaimer that what happened below didn't just happen, but it had quite a long time ago. though i can't say the specific date :X don't kill me serene! X: here's what happened. and what's so unforgettable.)

breached.

no, it's not as ominous or potentially sad as it sounds.

wonder whether i ever confessed, but when i first kissed cheryl on her lips, i can still remember standing outside her door early in the morning, after doing the stint which that guy in Love Actually did to Keira Knightley with his placards, i asked her to close her eyes, and it was then i planted a light kiss on her lips. for her it was a magical moment, when we finally kissed on the lips after three years of being an item, on Valentine's 05. it seemed a long-awaited closeness finally arrived.

I never told her how i felt, never. as i left my kiss on her lips, my heart sank deeply in guilt and remorse, i felt utterly ashamed of myself, i felt deep, deep guilt. i felt so small, so guilty, like i had trampled on a rose so beautifully blooming. the magic of love, the magic of its manifestation in physical closeness was closed to me, it seems my past unravelled before me, many a times with my lips wrongly placed. it's no longer a privilege to me, that magical moment when love is consummate, it seems that will be forever lost to me, that amazing feeling when you get when know you've given your kiss to someone who has been worth the waiting for.

but, it's changed, i hope. that past's behind me now. not all behind me, but behind me.

***

breached. today that tentative 'tension' of whether or not finally ended.
somehow it made me see things clearer, it gave me the twinkle of possibility that my guilt will not once again consume a moment that's supposed to be of magic to a couple madly in love.

it was short, almost transient. her cheek was so soft, so tender.

waited for such a long time, don't ask me why i had to kiss her, i just had to. irresistable?

as she lay her head lightly on my shoulder, falling slowly asleep, i felt the urge to kiss her forehead to sleep.

yet, it was inopportune.

until that moment i told her i couldn't take it any longer (without telling her what is was i couldn't take), i kissed her cheek. in a surprise, almost. and at that moment a little sprinkle of love came over my heart, and i felt i was in love again, i felt "boyfriendish", somehow.

wull, she smiled widely. giggled a little. a blissful moment :D

yes, after much hesitation, she reciprocated the kiss in a moment of pleasant surprise, and once again, the same feeling came over me.

those butterflies.

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btw, as i kissed her forehead goodbye before a final hesitant farewell at the traffic crossing, we got caught by my cousin :X

I felt maybe...

2006-10-22T02:07:00.000+08:00

...the (bad) habit of not typing regular blogs is that people, even those whom you have given your blog address to, might find you boring or so damn irregular, that they don't visit your blog anymore, and wow, you have that much more of privacy about what you're typin'.

...the friendship with Yeek can never be healed again? it seems to me now, as it was, i believe, always, to him, that i never was a good friend of his, and now, thinking about it, would never be. all this while, it seems my notion that we can be or actually are special friends, was only one-sided, and as i say this i don't feel a deep ache in my heart, or the heavy sinking feeling i always get when i feel sad/affected, because i've let him go. and that notion of letting go seem enigmatic to everyone, to the effect that i have to explain always to people, except, sadly and weirdly enough, to Yeek himself, who's at the brunt of it.

...letting go was a sort of giving-up, but, then, if that be, i wouldn't even bother talking to him, or try to be friendly, or try to act as though everything was always nice and happy, as though i still didn't know that he didn't see me as how i saw him, as though he never did say, that after all, he didn't feel like i was his "good friend", as though what i was doing could actually blossom eventually into a true good friendship, as though what he said about "maybe in time we'll become good friends" would really come true.

...i was mistaken that he was always, if not "good-friend", positive, about his friendship with me. that really, he isn't all that fond (with no romantic connotations here) of me, that he might feel like he didn't like me, that he might get sick of me sticking to him, that indeed, at the end of it all, i'm only but just a friend of his.

...letting go, if i were to explain it, meant that, since i keep feeling your constant mood-swings, and irregular hots and colds towards me, and since i can't possibly steer myself to accomodate to your changeable bearings, since i seem to always feel that it is my fault that i cannot catch up with your changes, since i try but fail to tolerate and understand that that might just be you being yourself -- it seems the best way to be a friend of yours and not feel so emotionally drained, is to let you go. Not give up on you. but like how a person lets his dog run off, knowing that if the dog wishes for freedom and space, it would roam around, away from him, and if the dog needs or wants his company, it would indeed return. Don't bother reading between the lines, as though i think that i'm the master and you're my dog, or as though i intend to say that you come looking for me as and when you like it and is thus being cruelly practical. NO. What i DO mean to say is that, i'm always here with arms open; if you need me, i'm here, if you don't, i'm still where i am; take an example: if Serene gets cold towards me suddenly, i would try to go ask her, clarify and clear the air. But if it were you, since i've let you go, i would not pursue you if you start being cold, i'd wait for you to come back when you wanna. and there's no maybes about this.

... a little part of me cries for vindication in indignation.

... all this while i've been the only one propping things up, and so it seems i'm foolish for even trying to play a game of chess with myself, or maybe

...maybe it's not so final after all, maybe it's just another cold period, maybe soon after we'd find back the friendship we had, or maybe there was no 'we' and 'we had', maybe, once again, it's always been a one-sided thing, which it seems i've not accepted, which it seems i've held on to because i've always felt a bond with you, because i've always felt something special in you, because i've always, since the first day i led you around, felt that there'd be a great friendship ahead of us, because i've always felt an urge to defend you when others talk about you, because it is only maybe that all this was one-sided.

... after all, nothing's gonna be set in stone, and things might let up?

... after all, after all this talk, i still will not give this friendship up.

... you can tell me why all of a sudden during what i would expect as a nice conversation online, you could start shooting me a sour remark, that when i say "i'm a sua ku", you can say something so harsh back at me, and actually be so serious and deliberate about it. it is those occasions, like this, which i feel really hurt.

...you don't need to explain it to me, after all.

... i don't know what i'm saying, i dunno whether my stand is already changing as i type, whether this really is representative of what i really feel, because, how can a person ever feel clear and firm about something that seems always skittish and unpredictable?

... there's nothing more to type about this, but yet again, my heart's a fluster full of unrecognisabilities.

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It has become so natural

2006-09-19T14:38:00.000+08:00

that i keep forgetting to say this.

I mean, it's not like i have to say it or what. But it's just that, I'll say it, ok?

ok.

I'm in love. With Serene.

And it seems, she is too. YES, both with herself :D and with yours truly.

And everytime i think of that, something flutters from my tummy to my heart, to my head, to everywhere.

And i think it's love.

I love you.

Just had to say

2006-09-19T14:05:00.000+08:00

that when i was bathing just now
when the icy water woke up my skin
and suddenly got me so
so sensitive to what i've been doing
with my life
and made me realise

that i always wanted a friend
which i never had.
someone i could call up
and say let's hit the beach,
and end up lying under the sun
on the sand, looking to nothing much,
just the sea and what's unseen beyond
together,

without a word, and still feel,
just a nice silence that
can clear up the mess,
which i go back to
thereafter.

_____________________
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Confessions I

2006-07-04T22:19:00.000+08:00

Well, my girl's in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on
Hearing those words make we weak
I never wanted to say goodbye

But girl you make it hard to be faithful
With the lips of an Angel.

Listening to Hinder's "Lips of An Angel". Though there's not exactly anyone to be unfaithful to, and it's not as though I'm tempted by her, it's just that, she does have the lips of an angel.

***

"Were you in love with Cheryl?"

"I guess I did. That's why it's all coming back to me now. As in, if i didn't love her, i guess i wouldn't be feeling this way? A deep regretful melancholy."

"Hmm. Regretful because?"

"For hurting her. For taking three years away from her. For... many things unexplained."

Then these pictures of me confessing to her about my homosexuality, and her crying over the phone, and me saying sorry, a deep sorry to her. Why, she said. Why?

"Are you still missing her?"

"Yes of course. Sometimes."

"Missing in the I want you back sense?"

"No lah. Missing in the "you're a great memory which i'd choose to live again" sense."

***

I just said something, to me, was rather bad, considering she really wants to leave it behind, she felt uncomfortable with me calling her dear/darling, to Cheryl, from my sec school, I don't call her my ex, since that sounds frivolous, but well, I said, when she said that she missed sec school, and I replied, I hardly miss zhonghua, guess she had a better zhonghua than I did, and the best thing that happened was us, nothing else, and she gave me a smiley, which came across awkward, but hell, it's been so long I can hardly feel her anymore, but it just felt like it was awkward and... forced? .

She just said, "it's no harm thinking back" after I said "we shouldn't be doing this" after we talked about lots of memories like watching the world cup together, which memory is faded in my mind, and waiting at a station together and me showing her a picture I took of my sister's plush dog and a sheep that I won for her in the arcade after hammering some gameboard, and hence it's name, "pengpeng".then I thought and replied, "guess it ain't always no harm."
cuz it hurts.

***

Are you going to get on with life, without a care?
Will you get what you want from this world?
Then I watched the old couple dance;
"Step on my old size nines and I'll take you round."

Stereophonics. I love them. And truly enough, those skates were my old size nines.

I kept repeating her name; guess it was rather irritating for the rest? but I felt so much like I was in the times where we excitedly went to the rink to test the ice, just trying our best to balance, and she trying her best to guide me. Then I guess she gave up, and before that I could at least move a little, and she grabbed my hand and took me around. Around the rink, the strong cold breeze across her hair, over my probably distorted face, just smoothing the ice and feeling like we're in love. Stepped in my old size nines, and this time, I went around myself. (and of course, with my other friends, who were sometimes struggling, which reminds me of me, once again.)

"WE'RE IN LOVE!"

Yes, that was what we shouted on the overhead bridge near our secondary school, we shouted that over the pink bouganvillae, which I plucked, for her to keep, a momento I knew she would dry between the pages of her diary, like all the things she loved, and that reminds me of the sunflowers, the smiling sunflowers, the smiling her.

"Those are daisies! Sunflowers don't come in purple."

Stupid me. Thought those daisies were the sunflowers she always liked, and well, guess the thought counts. She laughed. Happily.

***

"How is it with Chris?"

"Cool. You? How's everything?"

"It's all good except for the exam stress."

"Sparkling love life? Still close to the gang?"

"Yes to both. Just celebrated Jason's birthday yesterday."

She missed Meifang, her good friend, and Jason, her boyfriend's, birthdays because she was mugging at home for exams. And she paid it back for Jason and not yet Meifang :D I feel happy, she found someone she's obviously in love with, 'cept for the fact she said she's become more cynical; I think everyone gets cynical as we grow up; and I got a little worried, nothing to do with the boyfriend, but I just wondered, she's really changing, not for any worse, just that, there's not exactly the innocent girl I used to know, not that innocence was lost; guess it was tainted, like how mine did, 'cept I lost my innocence with it, and I guess I can't change, there's this part of me that really doesn't want to be gay anymore, yet it's so hard for me not to, and the sacrifice to put in, the effort, I guess that lazy part of me really gets lazy, I just feel like not challenging that gay ego of mine, there's Chris, which I'd hurt, there's Phillippe, there's my
friends whom know me as gay, there's strangers who know immediately that I am gay, so this is how hard it is to change, and:

"That was why I hurt you."

It came out. As much as I want to erase that memory for myself and more importantly for her, I guess I couldn't, it resurfaces, and this time I really think I told it to her for real, instead of a sorry, or a whimper of it, and leaving her not knowing that entire picture, which she accepted and still continued to forgive me for, which I feel guilty for, which I feel small for, which I feel makes it never possible ever again for any 'us'.

"Nah. It's over, and I moved on. Doesn't really affect me anymore."

I guess what I said at Delifrance opposite the St.Andrew's Cathedral to my dearest Priya one fine night wasn't true, I realised it wasn't true only now, and I still do think, nonwithstanding, that she has moved on; even if we both didn't move on, I guess she's moved further than I did on this track with U-turns on both ends.

I sent Lips of an Angel to her, and I made sure I made it really clear that I wasn't meaning anything by doing it, I guess it's good to make things clear to her. Suddenly I just get reminded of her telling me how she likes to talk on the phone, instead of IM or SMS, it was hard to read me, it was hard for me to read her, and I guess it's so true now, she really didn't feel the pain on my side, which ... I prefer.

Suddenly I remember waiting for her while she was in the toilet and me staring out onto the mrt tracks of Bishan; I lost the tickets we bought, we laughed like mad kids, Clemence came and treated us, saving the day; we decided we'll spend the day before I had to go into the army together, embracing; she likes to be hugged from the back, just like me, staring at the sunset, which she loves; us eating together, having to pull Jialing along so that I could go to her house, me forced to sit beside her father; her apple-scented spray which she had, which made me fall even deeper in love with her, which I used too, a little too much for her liking, and she got miffed; the big red towel from Aussino she gave me for bathing after a swim, after a fun time tossing Marcus Jr around in the water; her giving me a cold pill at her door when I was hopelessly sick, and me smiling stupidly as I sauntered out, albeit sniffing, of her condo on the lane; us sending each other off, walking up and down the hill leading to her condo, never really wanting to part first or be the one to say the first goodbye; I guess I'll stop here.

It's a blur now, like how you see nothing when too many transparencies are put together.

***

No, it's not hard to be faithful, there's no one for me to be unfaithful to, maybe Chris, but that's not really being unfaithful, that's me being straight again. No, not "we never really moved on", I think you did, so please move on, I still love you, but it's not the same love anymore, I'd love to hug you again, to hold your hand again, but it's just a fantasy of a boy who deserves fantasies and no longer the realities he threw away. I still keep that orange-penned letter you gave me to encourage me, I still have that, and even thinking about it makes me cry now, makes me feel so hard to talk or breathe, maybe how you felt when you read my letters, which were real and felt, I hope you can still feel me through those sheets of rolled up papers, I still can from that now greyed piece of paper, written in that orange ink.

***

"...given them to a depraved mind, that they do things they shouldn't do."

A rough quote from Romans; read during a YFC BS.

"Parents! You think you have control over your children? I have a youth, my fellow pastor is counselling him, he is only 15 and is engaged in fornication! More and more teenagers are homosexuals!"

A rough quote from the pastor which sermoned in St.Andrew's Cathedral, last Sunday, Evensong.

"Teenagers have much to face, homosexuality, BGRs at such a young age..."

My pastor in my church, when I was interpreting.

***

I told Yeek, I said, I feel like giving up this homosexuality; it was hard to get it across to him, after all he is a budding homosexual, and after all he would never truly understand where I am coming from. I felt it was so hard to tell him about the voice in my head, I told him there were
these voices in my head, and he asked who, he hazarded a few guesses, and I finally spilled that it was my Lord God Jehovah.

"What do they say?"

"They say I'm giving you up. And it's so scary; I don't want to be given up."

He said God won't, and I quoted him Romans. I told him I was bombarded with all these signs that God flashes in my mind, my ears, across my bleedin' face. He's telling me for sure, and He's telling me good. There's signs that come too; I slept with Philippe, this 45yr-old Frenchman, lovely to talk to, patient on the bed, really nice all in all, that made me sleep again with him, and I felt I was really thrown into a depraved mind. What was I thinking? Thing that's scary is, I actually enjoyed it, which I hardly do in sex, and that I'm only half-guilty.

When you no longer feel guilty is when it's all over. And I'm close. Sorry Chris, I've betrayed your trust, I've slept with another man.

I guess this is also what makes it so difficult to part with this gay life I've prepared myself for. I introduce myself as gay; even if I don't people find out; I've pierced my right ear, and to some extent I revel in some "coming out", like a hint to my parents and a confirmation to my friends and strangers; strangers know immediately that I am gay; I leaked, though in a joking manner, that I was gay, to some youth, who kept questioning my piercing, I actually felt attracted to one guy, no, not Derrick, though every time he actually turns up my butterflies flock to my stomach, the guy is Jon, which I felt a lil' vibes from, but he's supposedly with Jessie, and I guess that's great, thank God there's no chance for my depraved mind to deprave others; porn's like a commodity, it's hard to get off; even my only girlfriend knows I am gay and asks me about my boyfriend; I've made so many gay friends through the net; there's Philippe and his expectations of me going back on bed with him, stopping it suddenly seems like betrayal; I've had five sex partners, of which two I've forgotten the names and forgotten their looks and one I can only vaguely remember, one I've actually felt feelings for, first sex on the staircase in a BishanHDB, next ones in their houses, and lost my haha-what-virginity? at 13, masturbated over men, first fantasised a chiseled man on my Human Body children's edubook, guess I was eight, drawing penises on a secret book I kept and trying to draw men, and found 20-odd gayporn websites when I was P6, wrote a list which I only recently discarded, after finding it under my old CPU which had to go.

I'm down at the end of a slippery slope. Skating upwards.

***

I feel for women, for girls, such sweet girls. I want to kiss a girl out of the bearded barley, to walk on the trail on my Father's map, to dance in the moonlit floor. Yet, this huge history I carry on my back makes me reconsider my choices; stuck. I want a boyfriend, I want a girlfriend. And for once, holding the hand of a girl and letting her head rest on my haha-what-chest makes me touched, makes me cry. No longer is there a man there anymore. Yet, how am I to start anything, boy or girl? maybe I should start one with God first?

***

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones.I will try to fix you.

Please do.
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If tears could, if they just could
blur, wash off, or at least
soften all that I'm feeling, then
I'd cry
if I could, if I just could.

Somethings.

2006-06-14T14:59:00.000+08:00

I just had to write something(s).

HAHA. Well, after the whole hooha over my heart murmur, which I hoped won't be too serious but still serious enough to get me an excuse for MOST of the activities in the army, I ended up with a PES B! Well, if I am allowed to misquote, this is what a PES B means:

Suitable for MOST activities.

"I guess I just wasn't made for these times" -- Sixpence None the Richer.

If you're interested in space and the universe, go check it out on Wikipedia. I came across today's featured article, and it was about the supernova remnant called the Crab Nebula, caused by i-forgot-what supernova. It was observed IN THE BROAD DAYLIGHT by Chinese and Arab astronomers in 1054, recorded in their writings! It could be seen in daylight for 23 days!!! Isn't that cool. There ain't much supernovae happening these days, so we can't really see. And I went to click almost every hyperlink, and poof I'm filled with surprise and awe for God above who created the universe so immaculately splendiferous.

Go check out the Wikipedia!
Run searches for SUN, PLANETS, QUASAR, CORONA (not the beer, alcoholic), SUPERNOVAE, HYPERNOVAE, BLACKHOLE, WORMHOLE and please check out the links between the nomenclature of space objects and Greek mythology! Especially, check out THE PLEIADES.

Well, alternatively, ask Marcus for his "1001 things you need to know about SPACE!" it's almost all in there too, minus all the astronomy jargon :D

Love!

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Like a match infatuated with the fireplace
Or like a popsicle in love with the sunshine
Or like catching a deluge in a paper cup
I get thrown over, always thrown over.

Wakey wakey.

2006-06-14T12:27:00.000+08:00

Dad's up and about already! Well, the hospital stay was only ONE day. Maybe even less than that considering he went in at 3pm and came out at 9plus am. It's really the fatest hospitalisation I've ever seen. He's really all fine, and spending more time doing things he likes; messing with the sound system at home, talking to gramms, doing quiet time (thank GOD!), and basically dozing off while reading the papers. Maybe it's really boredom, but he's sitting down with Mom and gramms watching Channel 8 from 9 to 10pm, then with me and Mom, we watch Da Chang Jin together from 10pm to 11pm. Amazing huh. It's good he's spending time with us, we can talk and communicate, just that my sis is still always MIA.

It's either the tsetse fly or inertia that has inflicted me. I've been sleeping and sleeping non-stop. I just woke up 20 mins ago. And to think I slept at eleven thirty last night and woke up at 8am lsat morning. And previous nights? Ooh. Slept at the same time. And woke up at twelve plus again. I really DO feel that I'm wasting away into Dreamland, but well, I like the feeling of having time to sleep longer. And I guess I'm just paying the heavy sleep-debt I incurred due to TSD. And lots more other things.

I need to kiss a guy. Like, passionately.

Ok. That was a random thought.

NO. Not really. Been thinking a lot about it actually. Not the sex, no, just the kissing. The feeling of having someone ready to lock lips because we're together, we're in love. Which is such a distant fantasy. WHAT in-love. WHAT together. In Singapore? Beat it.

I finished Keynes. Can you imagine that? WELL, there's still so much more to go I actually feel daunted. I'm planning for a failure in Lit and an almost failure in History. I'm trying to keep my head above the water for Econs, and I guess everything will turn out all the same. CDE.

I really wish I can get an A sometime soon. Just to tell myself I can do it. But I know, it's all whether you want to do it or not, but yeah. Sometimes I just hope that when I think this essay is going to get me a 18, it really does. And geepee. I'm actually very worried for GP. Used to be good at it. And now? A constant D.

Wakey wakey I guess.

______________________
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Someone pick me up and hold me down
Bring me close, with lips open
Guide me in and let's be lost
In the dunes of love.

Dad.

2006-06-09T14:36:00.000+08:00

He's really sick, but it's fine now. Last I heard about him through a mobile phonecall was:

"Tonight's dinner is cancelled. Daddy needs an operation, three arteries are blocked and he's either going for a bypass or a ballooning op. I'll tell you when he's confirmed the hospital he's going to get admitted to. Tell Sis about it, my handphone is low on battery. Bye."

That's Mom. She's so strong, I must say. No crying at all, at least not in front of me.

Well of course I was shocked outta my wits. Here I was, on the bus to school so I can get my notes, wearing reasonably formal in prep for a dinner at Moonfish, my heart rather light in expectation of some shopping with Pree and a great dinner. That sudden call made me really wonder: what if Dad dies.

But hell, he ain't gonna do that. He's old, yes, sick, yes, dying, no. I'm pretty sure about that. A woman's sixth sense. Oh yes, yes, I'm not a woman.

But damn, I was shaken, I must say. But like how I always function, gimme an hour and I'll be okay. Then there I was, tired as I might be, going to Kino, arguing with Pree about how to pronounce "compilation", getting really good books, then to Far East, when I called my sis about the directions to get to NUH, where my daddy was admitted. It's the same hospital my gramms went into for an op to take out something cancerous.

When I finally made my long way there, I went into dad's ward, it's kinda like an enclosure of sorts, a cubicle, but much bigger. Plastic see-through slide doors and a half-drawn curtain, and right in the centre of the room was me pops, lying straight, sleeping calmly. First I thought: was he on medication? Then, I wondered. He hasn't gone for an operation, so why is he in the ward already? Mom and Sis weren't there, apparently they were having their dinner.

Then when I was about to go look for them, they walked up the hallway, with Sis reasonably calm-looking but rather worn out, and Mom. Tall, wearing a really nice dark-blue coat with a light blue shirt inside, and a matching dark-blue long skirt, black stockings, and black heels. With my favourite curly hair. She reminds me of a power-woman, a business lady. 'Cept for her visibly tired face, she looks like she was keeping something in, yet, I couldn't really feel how sad she was, she's really good at feigning, and well, I guess the news weren't that good to begin with, she must have felt some sadness, some worry, some tiredness, considering it's Dad we're talking about here, as much as she resents him for things he does, she loves him, like a wife, a companion. She troubles me, I don't know what to say to anyone, even when I was waiting at the Day Room for my uncle and auntie to come out of the 2-visitors-at-a-time-only ward so I could see Dad, and when my sis came and told me Dad's awoken and I can see him, I really didn't want to, not knowing what to say to me pops when I really see him, I guess that's me, it was the same with Ahgong, with my gramms, with pops. I just don't know what to say. I thought about Mom in the same situation, I felt I'd just cry.

I just walked over there, and went into Dad's ward. Only a few moments ago did Mom and Sis tell me that Dad has already gone for a ballooning operation, that's he's fine already and was sleeping from the long, tiring op. When I entered, he was relating the operation process to his brother and sister-in-law, and I stood there, hearing it all, feeling at times a pain which I can describe as the sensation you feel when you see someone being sliced on the arm on TV or film. That sympathetic reaction. Damn, there's something holding the vein open in his arteries, so more blood could go through, and something attached to his heart, put all the way through to his thigh, for some unknown-to-me reason. There was only local anaesthetic, so if there wasn't that much piercing operating light and not a film covering his view, me pops would have seen everything. URGH. And:

"The doctor was pumping, 16, 18, 20, then I told him my chest was aching, and he dropped it to 18... he put the ring inside... made of fibreglass or something. He said it might break! So I'll have to sleep straight."

Gosh. I felt like running 4.8km and swimming right there and then to burn the fats. Poor pops! Having to go through all this. And, he was only told all this after a LONG LONG wait (since Jan/Feb) for a detailed heart checkup for the chestpains he was experiencing when he walked the three-bus-stops distance every morning, which he did with reasonable ease in the recent past, before the chestpains came. Then again, as inefficient as this aspect of healthcare might be, I must say my dad's operation was as efficient as it could get. I must say this. It's all planned. Like, God's plan.

First. It's Dad's birthday. Hence the moonfish dinner.
Second. Dad didn't eat since the night before he found out, from 12mn onwards.
Third. The surgeon had an appointment and so had to do the operation immediately.

Hence, the operation was done within a one-hour lapse, and within three hours my dad was out and resting for recovery. Amazing ain't it. Maybe this wouldn't really show how it might be God's plan, but the whole incident make me feel God's presence. Somehow.

Well, something which happened really touched me.

"Sorry, you can't have a nice dinner tonight."

Shit. Thinking back now, tears still rush to my eyes.

(to my uncle) "Yea, today is my birthday. Thought of having a nice dinner with all of them."

Only now did I realise, how much of a family man my Dad was, how eating together, or at least spending some family time with the whole family -- not just Mom and me, but also Sis -- meant so damn much to him. My resolution of having dinner with the two of them till I have to go to the army has become even stronger, and now I guess the onus falls on me to pull Sis along, so that before anything awry happens yet again, we won't have to regret not spending time together. I guess the next awry thing to happen will be my conscription, and well, I hope there can be a true blue family meal together soon enough.

Happy Birthday Daddy.

Haven't even said that to him. How to, when it ain't all too happy. Guess my dad has regrets as much as I have.

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Just a quote. Nothing else, really.

2006-06-06T15:28:00.000+08:00

...it's that region of cold indifference which we stray into once in a while, or for some people, many a times, but finally get pushed out of, because sometimes life proves too happy to be sad over, or too sad to be happy over, that we just have to sway to one side, and no longer feel indifferent anymore.

::marx::

I really do

2006-06-06T14:14:00.000+08:00

I really do love Stereophonics.

"Step on my old size nines and I'll take you around."

How I wish I can let someone step on my shoes and let me show them around my mind and my heart, to let them know what I actually feel, so that I don't exactly have to put on a face, or face a confrontation, or dance around the room looking as though everything is alright, when nothing really is.

Yes, it does get tiring trying to figure out what everyone's feeling, to try to be all sensitive to people and hide what you actually feel like saying, or feel like doing. Restraint is good, but then again, it gets so taxing that sometimes it's tempting to just give up, to, maybe, stop trying to read others' signals and stop trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with my relationship(s) with anyone. I really do get tired.

But hell, why such morbidity when...

YAY! MY PRACTICAL A-LEVELS ARE PRACTICALLY OVER.

The joy. The thankfulness. God! I really do feel thankful to God, He's been there when no one's been, He's gotten deep into my heart where no one's been. He's always there giving me strength when I need it. Like He said, though this is not the exact quote, "No trial that God gives you will be too hard for you to take." Maybe, to me, it's because along with every trial, God provides an equal-- if not exceeding -- amount of strength needed to overcome it. And I am glad that He has given me enough faith to trust in Him, to say that I'm leaving everything in His hands, and that He has really given me the strength that I asked for, pushing my limits and stretching my threshold, carving me out to become a better person. I've finally broke my pride down and asked Him for help, and indeed, He has given it to me, and, I guess, pulled my hand and pulled me out of a shithole which I would never be able to get out of myself.

.o.O.o.O.o0.O.

I really do. I really do thank you wholeheartedly, Serene, for being my partner. No, I'm not going to dishonor you. HAHA. Well, I really feel that our duopartnering was a marriage of convenience to start with, which in the end blossomed to such a beautiful friendship. Still remember me giving my DS and for you, making the painful decision of acting over masking, and wow, in the rush to find partners, we simply said, Alright, we're partners! Remember the efficiency we had? Or maybe YOU had. Right after the union POOF! You and Pau were at the library looking for Duos. Like. WOAH. And every minute I spent with you, I felt, hmm... this is the right choice. Though I did consider Karms, but hell, the second we became partners I guess my gut told me IT WAS YOU. HAHA. Now let's check your guts.

It's the same way how you feel we're more than just duoparDners. I really do feel that it's become a wondrous friendship, of support and understanding. I guess we've got to know each other so much more, and realised how we can never really do serious mirrorwork, and realised, really, how to live with each other. Not live, as in, cohabit, but, live, as in, you know, what we expect of friends? Well, I really thank God for you, acting with you is really fun. No joke. Or maybe. Lotsa jokes. HAHA. It's amazing how our laughing kinda infects each other. If you think about it, things we laugh about are always really lame stuff. But, we just keep laughing. I love that feeling. That certain MAGIC, i think. I truly enjoyed dinner last night. I love it when you go mad. Remember. Allow me to quote Pym. When we're "STARK, STARING MAD".

As I've said, our friendship and time spent together is very much a duologue extracted from a comedy of errors. It still amazes me how we stuck together from prelims till the end of As, and how we so clicked so well, how we sometimes pissed each other off, how we so readily give hugs to each other, how I can feel your presence coming or predict an SMS from you, how we need not really say much to each other but really know that each other is, sometimes, hurting deep inside and just really needs a hug. Nothing too obliging, nothing too forced. It was natural, I guess. even our names. Marene Sercus. What else can be as natural as that?

Prajadipok, I'd really always remember the time we spent together. It's not the end, no way,we're gonna spend more time together! YAY!

>>>You know what's funny?

>>I'm German. Nothing is funny. Ha. Ha. Ha.

>>>I'm really getting a troothache.

Love! Love! Love!

And now, for the closing song, a number written by Serene (51%) and Marcus (49%).

When you're lonely
Hug a pillar
Because the pillar is lonely too.
The next pillar is faraway
They can't talk, and they can't play.

So if you're lonely...

(repeat)

Hmm. Maybe this is even better than Stereophonics! :D

o.O.0O.oO.o.Oo

It's been great, hasn't it. Hmm. I'll say, this is the most memorable part of my JC life. But, I'd never ever want to repeat it again, ever. I love you, Priya. For being such a close friend who I can spill my beans to. You're no short of a good friend! Love.

Thanks too, WE ARE. It's tumultuous. But we got through, and we're great. are we? WE ARE.

"Nothing to say Lord, you know it as well as I."

Always loved that line, but I guess I'd use it in a different context for now :)

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Ooh!

2006-06-01T19:12:00.000+08:00

I guess that was an expression of pleasant surprise. Ok. Maybe I should say less "I guess"es. Well, it IS an expression of pleasant surprise.

Two days -- or two NIGHTS -- ago, WE ARE was still in crisis. Even Lofty said, "I'm dry." We simply loathed around aimlessly, trying our best to squeeze something outta our brains. Then we went into the costume room and put on weird costumes, doing some improv, which fell flat due to lack of experience AND energy, and suddenly, as we lazed on the couch, POOF! A murder mystery implicating maids, a butler, and an Inspector, is created. With the help of the teachers, seniors (Chloe and Serene! Thanks!) and of course, with our brilliant minds, a really entertaining group piece emerged. THANKS BE TO THE LORD.

Meredith: "You don't know how much we prayed for this."

Well, I can't say I prayed a lot, but I did leave this whole problem to God. And indeed, He led us and through us, the teachers and seniors, an amazing miracle is performed. It's such a relief! I don't have to feel like my TSD career's in the drain. Now it's just the Mono that I have to worry about. Oh! Groups are so fun to do! I guess we should have ditched the CANS idea a long time ago. But, I'm still quite sorry about having people find cans for us and also our juniors, who made lotsa stuff. But hell, the juniors can be quite lazy too. LAY PENG!? Claire's still OK. Thanks a million to Stephany and Jonny! Wonderful juniors who were always there and made it to our hearts!

It's so exciting, sitting at home before the sky's dark, or before it's TOMORROW, as Priya said, waiting for the exam time to come, when all of us are in costumes and speaking hilarious lines, creating theatre, as a professional passion. The sound of it is so fun! But the process? HAH. I thank God for pushing my threshold and really letting me discover inner strength which I've never tapped, but hell, I'm going to go through this ONLY ONCE, thank you very much. The agony remains in the past and never will return. God bless it.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. Anticipating the examtime. I've got a feeling everything would be great. Not my mono though. Must put that in God's hand too, I guess. Oops. Guess again. I KNOW.

I love Hoobastank, by the way. Not "The Reason", but their other songs included in that album.

We have to escape, and I will go anywhere, if you just lead the way. Escape to a place where we'll be together, together everyday.

ARE WE READY? WE ARE.

Regrets.

2006-05-27T00:02:00.000+08:00

Well. It's been so long since I blogged. For all sorts of reasons. Tiredness, sickness, busyness, computer crashed. As in, literally, it crashed, on the cold hard floor.

Now that I have it back, it's great to blog again. So many emotions waiting to burst forth.

Before this, Yeek and I fell out. It affected groups and IS, basically, it put me into such a depressed mood. And I guess it did, too, for Yeek. We're great friends again, now. I thank God. Thank you God for answering my prayers. The prayers I say when I get a breather out of group by sneaking to the toilet, along the way as I walked to the cubicle, my prayers as I walked to and from group. Thank you, Lord. You are my Father. And thank you Yeek, for loving me. I love you too! :D We're friends again and that's GREAT. As I've said, Yeek is the bestest boy-friend I've ever had. All the time, it's been me against the guys, the sissy against the machos. All the time, I've been lacking a testosteronal (if there's such a word) companion. Now God gave me Yeek, and I thank God, again!

Hmm. Happy things aside. I think, indeed, everytime I blog, it's always about something poignant or just blatantly sad.

I just came back from Majestia, a band concert which I was supposed to play in, a swansong since it's the last concert for Year Twos, but I'm so busy fussing with TSD that I simply had no time to commit to rehearsals after rehearsals. I was delighted to accept the invitation for emceeing the concert, which I did, and I really think it's the last time I'll ever emcee in VJ anymore, a swansong for me too, after so many emceeing opportunities, it's great to end my so-called emceeing-career with emceeing for Majestia XXI, at least I get to be involved, at least I get to play a part, be it how small, it's still a part to play, it's still remembered, they say, you have a great voice, i think you are the best emcee in VJ, thanks for lending your voice for the concert. It's been great emceeing the concert with Karmun, the girl whom I started my emceeing career with, it's her swansong too, thanks Karmun for being a truly great partner in emceeing.

I felt so out-of-place, when Mr Tan, the band instructor, took over the mike, saying, it's the last concert the Year Twos will play, thank you very much for your contributions to the band, stand up, hear the applause for you, Year Twos, and I stood in the wings, hesitant about going out there and bask myself in appreciation, after all, I'm still a band member, I'm a Year Two, I played for Majestia XX and NSSN 2005, I played for SYF, we got the Gold together, though we wanted a Gold with Honours, but the only sad thing is, I left the band prematuredly, I was beginning to feel so close to them, then I had to go, then it just all fell apart, in the messages they say, you're the joker in our section, bringing us laughter and fun, you're my favourite person to chitchat to, practices without you feel less interesting, though you haven't been around for such a long time, you're very much part of the section still! I came up with the flute anthem, which we sang out loud, though I forgot the words and tune, someonw had to remind me, they cheered the flute cheer, which I came up with, without me at first, I walked over, said hello flute section, they replied warmly, I fell in love with them yet again, then we cheered together, then there was silence. I hadn't an idea what to say, they were clearing up, I got cleared out too.

So so very much regrets, I feel such regret for not having played in the band, for leaving such wonderful friendships aside to rot, simply because I had TSD exams, I hate it for screwing up my life now, I feel like I would certainly regret not joining TSD, yet it brings me so many regrets, I feel like crying, I feel like I wasted my band experience, they say hi so happily to me, I say hi, not being able to play with them in the band, but just speak, using my mouth, not my flute, no, not any longer, regrets, regrets. It's hard, what TSD students can balance their schedules and life very well, bullcrap, I say, it's bullshit, who ever finished their tutorials on time when TSD consumed us like a black hole inside a black hole, who dare say they balanced all 3/4 As nicely, CT council was a half-baked cake, and now Band, I'm cleared out, left out in the band photo, left out in the Flutes photo, Andrew said, this is the flute section photo, for you, I said thank you, and realised I wasn't in it, no blame, just regrets, regrets, so deep, eyes are too dry to cry, never could express very well with my tears, that's why my heart feels so heavy, I can't cry, I hate myself for torturing myself like that, regrets, regrets. Even Writers' Circle, they are such a wonderful bunch, it was just smiles and happy rehearsals together, I felt totally appreciated, but they didn't thank me at all, not one of the three/four people who were asked to say something at the end of Glossolalia thanked me, I came up with the whole group poem choreography, the group poem was the best of the whole show, no one said thank you to me, everyone just knew it was so good, I guess it's great to know that people loved me, I guess it sucks to know that no one knows it was you. Screwed up life, I hope TSD yield what I reap, I don't want to be left with nothing in the end, no, not nothing, but just regrets, so painful, I don't want to look back and realise, I was so much involved in school, with so many commitments, I excelled in all, but simply, the relationships, the emotional richness and attachment I'm supposed to have, to be proud of, to be enjoying in, are all not there, that in the end I have nothing at all to look back and smile upon, except half-baked cakes and smiles which I could have remembered much more clearly and could even hear, if I had put more effort, or was allowed to put more effort in, then I'd be happier, knowing that I have real friends which I daresay I feel attached to, but now looking back, none of that is, so I just hope I can still be attached to the TSDians, or at least that of my class and group, at least I won't feel like a glass bottle which travelled the seas but has nothing in it but a note of regret.

Regrets. Cry over them. But I can't. Regrets. It hurts so bad, to say goodbye after getting all the gifts they've given me, I feel so very much attached to them, I love them, F-L-U-T-E-S! It gives me pride, joy, it was so fun being in the section, without the disgusting seniors, but with the cute Year Ones, they're so loving and crazy and fun to be with, that I feel so loved, I didn't even go for JTS, what a jerk am I, how could I have done that, it's all coming back to me, a crash of regrets, maybe that's why it's really been really long since I left them, though it hadn't been that long, but it was too-long enough, claps, applause, thank you and goodnight, Mrs Chan smiles widely at me, I feel I've accomplished only emceeing, I think that's really something I can be proud of, yet in that I can get no satisfaction which a BAND, a WRITERS' CIRCLE, a COUNCIL can give me. I can see them, say a passionate and excited HELLO, and then have to walk away because there's nothing to say, because I feel that I want to and can be so close to you, but I screwed it all up because I just simply didn't spend time on anything else except TSD, that's why I hate TSD, all it gives me is I hope a good grade, a pack of really really good friends, I thank God for that, but leaves me with so many other people who I can see a happy past that held so much potential but which I blew away into the winds, so much love and pride and warmth and friendship I've just thrown off like that. All their faces are flying by my mind like a filmstrip, someI can't remember names of, but I wish I could have been so much closer to, how to express this, I simply can't put it across, I just feel, deep, deep, deep, regrets.

Regrets. Things I can't get back. Regrets. I wish, I could cry, but I can't, !!!!!!.

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affected_aftermath

2006-03-12T01:19:00.000+08:00

yes, maybe the fetish over the underscores are back. wells.

as my friends leave one-by-one to get to their beds for a sleep, I'm here talking to myself. Thinking about what has happened, what should have happened, and what did not happen. It's that kind of reflection I do everytime after a TSD performance, whether I felt it was good or not.

Seriously, after today's prelims I felt like shit. I realised how BAD my monologue was, I can promise myself a D grade, trust me. And my duologue. So much hoohaa about it, but I just felt it wasn't up to standard. a little laugh for a B+ already. In the end, it'd be a shit grade again. Plus the C- I got for Groups, talk about a wonderful TSD grade. Without Lofty around I just feel that much less inspiration to do anything else for TSD. Including my now<700-word journal. Great.

MONO: too short, voice too rough, spoke too fast, unconvincing
DUO: timing slightly off, slipping in and out, garbled some words, spoke too fast, generally good
JOURNAL: could give more, B-.

Overall grade: C-

Trust me. I think I know it. I can see it coming. Something in my heart tells me to expect better. But seriously, I rather not. Don't want my castle to come crashing down on me from the clouds I thought were strong enough to hold them up.

I guess that's really what I wanted to say. When I remember more I'd write. I hope.

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Many a new things tried.

2006-03-10T12:19:00.000+08:00

Haha. Indeed. For myself, for friends, for Prelims. I tried new things.

Episode one. Talk about gayness.

Yeah, I know, I'm gay. But making a statement everywhere I go isn't what I do. But hell, the blue earstud on my RIGHT ear says it all, doesn't it. Did I hear earstud?! You pierced your ear!?

"It's real!? (touches. I flinch.) Oh my god, didi! Why? I'm going to faint. " --my encouraging sis.

"Aiyo. (gives a disgusted, WHY!? look) So ugly, do for what?!" -- my loving mom.

"(sincerely) What made you want to do this?" -- my concerned dad.

Cool family I've got. Well, never expected any positive remarks anyway, so it's fine I guess. It just blew over and since no one talks about it anymore, I don't need to put up defences any longer.

"Marcus, you pierced your ear argh?" --my nice churchies.

HAHA. 'course I did. I went on stage to interpret God's word right after. :D

Episode two. My shaved armpits.

Now this is funny. I got really sick of Richard III and decided to scrap the piece since I damn-right couldn't do it right. SO I wanted to do something I really loved, i.e. Greek, i.e. Agamemnon, i.e. Clytemnestra's rhesis after killing Agamemnon and Cassandra. Yay. And when I told J.Lo she was a lil'hesitant, but agreed. So I didn't bother and went on with it. It's the prelims. I want to do something I believe in!

Well, the piece requires me to raise my arms up and declaim, so ahem. Feedback from friends: shave the pits. And I did.

Lemme relate the experience to you. I feel utterly grossed out by it. Don't worry, I didn't cut a whole piece of skin off while shaving, so read on.

I took my sister's Veet Rasiera, supposedly blade-free (thank the Heavensssss) solution to LEG-HAIR. But I used it on my pits anyway. After practising my monologue with the stinkin'substance on (since I'm supposed to wait 3mins to 6mins), I used the plastic blade to shave off the hair. EWW!!!! The Rasiera works by breaking down the hair so it breaks off damn easily. And the hair just disintegrates into clumps. Gross. I almost vomitted - -the smell surely didn't help.

But after that I realised it was certainly fascinating how the hair just gets off, leaving QUITE a smooth plain. Well, I feel cooler, undeniably. In both senses of the word.

Well. Adventures and first-times. Fun eh?

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saddest days.

2006-03-10T12:14:00.000+08:00

Blogging once again on the notepad. Now it all seems ironic, the happy Broadway picture we took on the first day I brought my cam. I always wondered, how happy we were. Are we happier now? Or maybe, at least, these few days were much sadder, more overcast than any day that I've seen.

For the very first time in my knowing Yeek for almost a year, I saw him cry. He never did cry in front of me, I never saw his red eyes and his choked voice. This time, I guess, the blanket of grief fell, and covered us all.

Today. 7th March 2006.

The Chinese Food canteen vendor asked me,"Why is it so quiet today?"

I didn't know how to answer; took a long time erming and ahhing.

"Because, someone... left us. He passed away."

"oh. (apologetic) Why? Sickness?"

"Suicide," I said, feelong difficult to even speak it.

"Why? Nobody knows why, huh. (sad tone)"

"Yeah, nobody knows. Thanks," and I walked away.

Jonathan Guo, fellow Year Two, jumped off on Friday night, 3rd March. I'm still confused. I'm still wondering why. He was acing in his studies, 4As for Promos and 3 S-papers, MOE Teaching Scholarship. Girlfriend, stable well-to-do folks, bunch of lovely friends, Volleyball Team Vice-Captain. I just didn't know why he wanted to jump off. Common tests? Breakdown in relationships? Stress?

"I know it's bad but I think it was really stupid to kill yourself," said Yeek. I totally agree. It's just really not an option to take - -not when the going is good, not when your friends and family love you so much, not when suicide is not going to solve any darn thing. Why bring so much hurt to yourself and to the people who love you so dearly?

At assembly, Mrs Chan the Principal talked about Jon's life, how people love him, how his funeral went, and had two of his friends to speak about what a lovely guy he was. Indeed, from what I hear and what I absolutely believe, Jon was a cool, lovely guy. Why then?

"I just think that the 1-min silence is a bit too dramatic," I said. Don't you feel that it's kinda weird for the whole school to observe a 1-min silence? No harmful intentions or bitchiness here: I'm simply just wondering. It was a mark of affection, indeed, but I just think it was going overboard in showing that, to the extent of me suspecting some political-correctness and superficiality in it.

Well. I'm depressed too, for Jon's demise, but that was days ago when Serene first broke it to me. That's why I'm quite calm today. That's why I told myself, time to move on from that, many other things await. Time to get over it. Until I saw Yeek tearing again.

***

Three or four days ago.

Serene told me, over the net, that a dear friend of hers died. I asked why, and she said, he jumped. I felt my breath taken away, not in the all-romantic sense, but I was just left breathless. She then told me that he didn't die after he jumped. He moaned, as neighbours relate, and died only one and a half hours after. I almost cried.

Serene had already gotten over it, and sent me an entry on how she felt:

we talked about him today and came to realise that we sorta watched him grow up. we've known him since we were all 12 and 13s; we witnessed him falling in love and out of love. we laughed at his embarrassing and "act cool" actions. we saw the shyness in his somewhat arrogant front. we cried when he broke a leg, and the next year, when he broke an arm because we thought he could never play the drums again. we smiled remembering his nickname "zhuo niao dan". we remembered his brilliance and i-dont-really-care-but-actually-i-care manner. how he never smiles in photographs. how even when he said hi, we felt like strangling him for acting cool, but deep down knowing how we really love him and our class will never be 2daredevils without him. there are so many things to say about him, and they bring such bittersweet-salty tears.
but talking about him now makes me feel like ive never really known him at all. and i think about how i could have done something to stop this terrible thing but didnt, and then feel like im being too excessive, because we werent close anymore. so many thoughts i dont know where to begin and where to end.

at the wake, seeing his parents was painful. being there was heartwrenching. it was like someone cruelly pinching our hearts in every grotesque direction and sometimes i feel like i just cant breathe. i cant believe it. this guy was so happy, or so it seemed. we hurt inside, wondering what did we not do and did that just wasnt enough. its so hard to speak of this person we were once bonded with, in the same breath we talk about ourselves. he is no longer here and it just doesnt register. not even after seeing him lying in his coffin. he looked so plastic, and for a moment, i just believed it wasnt him, that it was all a prank. and as we walked away, we were heaving dry sobs because we werent allowed to cry. his parents looked so devastated, how could we?
&when i was on my way home, i saw people in all the bright colours and i wonder, shouldn't they be mourning too? sometimes i feel angry. with him, with myself, with everyone and everything else. but ive no rights to. its a blameless thing.

his life seemed perfect, even if perfection never existed. maybe it was impulse. maybe something we could never know about compelled him to. maybe his life was so perfect, he couldnt bear seeing that this could be taken away from him the next day. maybe so many things. i dont think we'd ever know. maybe we shouldnt. mabel said: for a split second, i thought that if i really tried hard, i could wish him back to life. i felt that so much too.

I remember in Sec 1 and 2, you were really cute. You kept getting injured. One minute it was a fractured arm when you tried showing off to us during PE how to slide in baseball. And the next, it was you sitting near a road reading newspapers and a car suddenly runs over your leg so that you attended school in a wheelchair. Both occasions, we had so much fun signing your cast, while you had the most attention. You were so experienced in injuries, that once when i sprained my ankle, you readily called me at home to ask me to alleviate my leg to prevent it from swelling.
You sat in front of me in class.

It was really interesting talking to you, though you did make me fed up with your constant maria-ing. You. Zhuo Niao Dan (catch bird eggs) made life in 1D-2D really really memorable, making this entry so much more poignant. I remember vividly your expression when you came up with lame excuses to cover your real intention of getting regina a mango birthday cake. You said you accidentally found a voucher on the floor, accidentally stepped into a Prima deli bakery and bought a cake for her. You liked her didnt you?! That was really funny yet cute. Ironically, she was allergic to mango or sth and so she couldnt eat it. In the interclass soccer matches, you and don were our leading strikers. One goal and all of us were jumping and screaming like mad. You always boasted that you played soccer the whole night, yet could still pass your tests with marks i would never dream of reaching. You stayed just 4 bus stops away from my home.

I last saw you in December, when you were walking with your girlfriend. You saw me and gave me that look -- i-want-to-say-hi-but-at-the-same-time-i-don't-want-to-spoil-my-cool-image-by-waving-like-a-sissy. I responded in the same way. How i wish i had dragged you aside and talked to you. Non-stop. So that you won't have to go home at all till now. So that you won't have that chance to ...
--mabel

ive been having weird thoughts ever since i found out what happened and finally took myself (partially) out from denial. i wondered how it must be like for him now. can he hear us? does he regret? what is it like afterlife? and this guy i was once good friends with, he actually knows if there is heaven or hell, god or no god. at the same time, he is no longer here. on earth. with us.
suddenly i realise how true it is to say that life is fragile. i see that death is really very close to each and everyone of us. i understand better and more painfully what it means to "treasure your friends and loved ones". what has happened, took a part of me away, even if we werent best friends or very good friends. it sounds so exaggerated, and i dont know how to put it into words that will exactly convey how i feel, but ill never be the same person again.
i feel so much older and tired today. i think we all do.
----------------------------------------------------------------I believe that says enough.

Yesterday. 6th March?

It was a pissing day for many: Priya, Yeek, others. The TSD teachers "closed" the theatre spaces and threatened to close it till Prelims if we didn't buck up. Some angsty letter written presumably by Mr Young (alone) complained about how we're not keeping up the cleanliness, how we're not performing up to form, how we're whining about too little time, how we're bothering Lofty despite his 40-degree high fever, how we're bothering Albert despite him coughing and wheezing, how we're not doing our journal right, how we're not really different from Science students, how we can't remember stuff.

RIGHT. I get it. I pretty much agree to what they said, but I just didn't like the way they CLOSED the theatre spaces, when people are desperate to slot for the coming prelims. C'mon - -despite what we seem to have done to piss you off, it is merely childish to close the spaces! First, the prelims are earlier this time round, i.e. less time: THAT IS UNDENIABLE. We understand that, we slog towards that earlier date. We whine, yes, but did we ever say to your faces that this was unfair and that we don't wish to comply? NO.We still slog, we still try, maybe not to our very best, but we STILL TRY TO COVER OUR ASSES. Respect us for that.

You're pissed, we're pissed. You're tired, so are we. Keep that line of respect and don't cross it. Simple enough right? Why, you didn't close the 24-hours. Allowing us to hang-out right? Giving the designers more priority? More than that. I don't know whether you know Night cannot be locked-- the door leading to 24hours' faulty. But if you knew, WOH. Trying to test us? Leaving the entry wide open while announcing the off-limits that you've closed up the theatre spaces? C'mon. This is our prelims so don't fucking toy with us.

Enough said about this matter.

More about our juniors. Yeek cried again because Eddie and Soefie and to a much lesser extent, Denise, couldn't stay in VJ -- their appeal through TSD failed. I could understand why. Eddie hasn't been handing up work, Soefie has her attitude, and Denise just can't control her emotions and looks nonchalant. Maybe they didn't try their very best, or at least try to show that they're trying their very best, to impress the teachers and do well for TSD. Maybe if they did they'd stay.Like Zacky.

I guess it's difficult. It's sad. But, we've all gotta move on? Cheryl was wondering to me, why are we so close to our juniors? Not like last year?

Well, the obvious answer would be that our seniors are SHITFUCKERS and we're not. But on a gentler note I think it's because we really try to make FRIENDS with them. And that's why when they can't make it bad, we know they feel sad. And when you know your friend's aching, you ache too. And we cry.

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the big blood-lashing bitch dash

2006-02-15T00:06:00.000+08:00

Read the face. I'm displeased and simply obliged to give you a goodbye hug. Like how we do it always.

Honestly, it wasn't too bad a Valentine's Day except for the finale. Which totally FUCKED UP the entire day for me. I'm almost tired trying to keep it in. If I let it out? WOH. Everyone's gonna get a fucked Valentine's. Fuck it.

The morning was amazingly sweet for me: a guilt trip nonetheless. Almost everyone had gifts for everyone, but I didn't. So i actually feel quite bad. Michael (yes I REFUSE to call him Mike! Eww...) made bread pudding, Maya gave out mini Tolbs, Serene gave me a mini hamper, Zack gave me chocolate, many others gave me chocolate, I ate SO much chocolate my teeth's brown.

~~oh yes. and I kissed Junyi. which WILL have repercussions. But I totally loved the moment. In hindsight I really like him very much. I think he's cute and loving. Love his hugs and ahem, kiss.~~

The original Esplanade bitches (so I call ourselves presumptiously) were trying to organise an outing together for Valentine's, going for Xiaolongbao and after that playing sparklers at home ground later in the night. It was all so exciting, because the last time the bitches went out, we had an extremely therapeutic bitch session. But today's outing was MARRED by Jasmine and Tim. I'm gonna be very frank about this. I totally hated the thought of them coming along. And they did. From a therapeutic cathartic output session, our little gathering turned out to be excruciating bitch-rich input session. I was so fucking pissed at the end of the day that I just didn't want to talk or give any expression. And it's really rare that I get angry. Hardly do I get angry these days. Irritated yes, but never angry. Except the time when Makoto told me about the juniors.

Which brings me to a point in digression. 16 out of the ~30 juniors are comtemplating to leave TSD, can't get back to TSD, or already dropped TSD. Quite a scary figure, but yeah. I seriously don't really care about whether he or she or she comes back, stays or whatfuck. Go! Stay! Do whatever you wish. I can't be bothered. Great. However Tash just had to do a Freudian slip. Quite a few of us were outside the Clinic today talking to Lofty about the disintegrating Year One batch. When Lofty came to the point where many juniors were leaving, thinking leaving, left, Tash just had to say:

"No need to worry, we will survive."

GUESS WHAT TASH!? It's a crisis for TSD as a whole and 2006 batch! NOT ABOUT YOU. NOT ABOUT THE SENIORS. Now stop thinking it's all about you and go fuck yourself. Selfish bitch.

Hmph. Back to my point about our Valentine's Day dinner outing. It was actually all so SWEET and HAPPY, we were SO looking forward to it and all. Xiaolongbao! With a bunch of bitches to bitch all night long. Then guess who had to come along. Darling Tim, and Jasmine. Well,i do have reservations bitching about Jasmine, cuz we're close, but certainly, Tim was one person not just me felt uncomfortable. I guess it's the Fries With That syndrome which invokes the bitch deity in all of us. That is a separate story left for later. OOh yeah, darlings, hold on tight, this IS gonna be a super-bitch blood-lash-out. Yeah baby.

Guess what. During the lovely meal, I was thank-God-ly with Cheryl, Priya and Serene mostly. Gosh the way Tim and Jasmine took over the conversation on the other side just irks me -- the whole Fries thing. Think about how Yeek got SO irritated by how Maya and Jasmine rattled off ALL about Fries and left him out. Grossness. Now comes the last straw on MY frickin' back. When the bill was to be footed I was the one getting all the money and shit. There was a serious lack of money since Priya, Junyi and I all paid extra to cover the extra cost. The first time I asked for this-this amount (can't really remember), and after that I asked for 50c more. Realising it still wasn't pretty enough, I asked for a dollar more. I was ALL NICE about it. THEN CAME THE MOMENT WHICH MADE ME WANT TO SLAP JASMINE RIGHT SMACKED ACROSS HER FUCKING FACE.

"Aiya, just, just SHUT UP, Marcus, just (something something)".

She slurred off after realising SHE wasn't being exactly FAIR nor TACTFUL and that MY FACE was turning purple. I was so FUCKING PISSED that I couldn't believe I actually was capable of harnessing that much hatred for someone I actually deem as a rather good friend. I actually felt betrayed.

The worst thing was, after that people started fucking flinging money onto the fucking table. FUCKING INSULTING. Not by the fact that they seem like they're patronising a beggar, but by the fucking fact that they do not fucking understand that fucking hell, it's not ME who wants the money, it's just fair for every fucking soul around the table. Now if you want to fucking make yourself fucking noble by solving the fucking situation by fucking throwing money on the fucking table you can go fuck yourself somewhere else and give that fucking bill to a fucking old beggar fucking BEGGING for that fucking piece of fucking money.

Well, being the social animal and the Oscar-winning actor of my time, I smiled it off but made sure I left a streak of that hatred in my voice. I no longer spoke loudly or flamboyantly, and I simply ignored her. They wanted to go somewhere to play Sparklers. Great. Let's go. Wanna take a picture? Ok! Let's take a picture. My heart was burning inside; it was both anger and hurt culminating on a typhoon-scale. Trust me on that. Even now in hindsight, after so long, the anger still simmers. Believe me, it really affected me like shit.

Can't you just see the fact that it's not about me? It's about whether everyone was understanding enough to cough up that half-a-fucking-dollar to make sure everyone gets back what they gave in extra? It's just fucking fair so stop fucking acting noble and stop fucking shutting my trap up cuz it ain't got no cause to fucking listen to your fucking rude command.

FUCK THE FUCK OFF.

Ooh this is frickin therapeutic. Good job. There is BLOOD on the floor. I'm laughing to myself late in the night. Love it.

Oh yeah. Talking about GROUPS. Get Hani down and WHAMBAMM! The bitch deity gets once again invoked and its wrath undeniably and unmistakably falls upon the insensitive, DIVA group, Fries With That. Fuck you. Oh! Did I accidentally trample on people's toes? Too bad. Maybe I should be more specific. Oh yes I should shan't I? Jasmine and Tim? HUH!? They are so grossly stuck together and bouncing each other's divaness and self(group)-importance off. My gosh, go to the tennis courts if you wanna do that shit. Not in front of me or TO ME.

Lemme share with you a short horror story. Well, it's nothing scary. Just horrid.

"Hey my group needs to do a tech-tryout, never got to testing the lighting (to that effect). Can you spare some lights? T-bars too, since you guys got them ALL in your slot." asks Marcus.

"oh, let me ask my group first (fair enough). Oh we're doing a full-run today, T-bars, NO, we need to interact with the set. (FUCK OFF, I CURSE YOU GET A D)" says Jasmine. The words in paranthesis are my thoughts.

AND INDEED! They frickin' got a deserving 'D'. Congrats. BITCH! yes! ANY PROBLEMS?

Well, how can one ever leave out the lights-T-Bars saga. Now, it's not just about the Womenides. It inflated to quite a lovely common consensus that Fries suck. The Bleagh! Witch Project just scrapped piece and needed lights to do something for building their piece or something like that. WOW. If it were me I would have given them all they needed, considering their position. BUT NO. The Fries happily denied them of the lights! Fuck them. Oh, guess what someone (just guess.) said when I asked for T-bars.

"Oh, someone said that there're still around six T-bars in the, erm, ahh, Shed. Maybe you all can get from there. Talk when we come back. Don't touch anythink ok, you, er, wouldn't want this to harm our relationship right..."

FUCK YOU THRICE OVER. Why can't you just lend some to us since you're out at a LUNCH BREAK. Really. I just shouted FUCK!! in front of the Fries' juniors and said Fries really are fucked up shits. Get the impression? Obviously you didn't make the littlest efforts to check first, cuz we bloody hell went on a fuckin' wild goosechase for keys and subsequently, non-existing T-bars hidden deep in the darkest corners of the Shed. And hello? This is professional business so can you leave our relationship out of the issue or else I'd leave the relationship. Don't you fuckin' dare use it as a card to play. It's that superficial, huh? Did I say FUCK YOU, BITCH?

Same thing happened to Bleagh, till it culminated into a message pasted on the glass doors, signed by the then-angry LUMOS.

"Please realise that every group needs lights and T-bars. So please be professional and not so SELFISH." (to this effect but bitchier)

Really. I think, professionally, Fries With That has failed to act in a sensible, reasonable manner, evading any polite demand for what they do not desperately need but what others do. In this respect I believe they have failed as both people and also theatre students who have weathered storms as a cohort.

Wells. That's enough blood on the floor. Smell it. It rewards.

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Notepadded

2006-02-12T00:18:00.000+08:00

I'm blogging on Notepad. wow.

Sent my previous blog entry to Chris, forgetting to save a draft. Still waiting for the night to pass in California so that I can get him to email it back and then will I be able to put it up onto my blog.

Seriously, I've got so many things to blog about, but everytime I come to blogging, I don't know what to say anymore. I've been wheezing so much these days I can't concentrate. Ain't it really bad? I've got shitloads of homework to do. History essay, two literature essays, another literature journal thinggy, Harris is going to give yet another, Econs essay also. After the TSD prelims I just can't bring myself to work for anything any longer.

I've been wanting to pen my Confession Letters, and also about Groups, about Sea Regatta and Orientation, about many stuff I have to bitch. It's just time that I do not have enough of, eh? Tried to play the flute today, practising a duet by Telemann with Priya on the piano. Loved the tune. At least something I'm doing for MYSELF, as in, something that I told myself to do, not others :D

Orientation. Come to think of it, it merely passes by like a butterfly. I was all excited to pen my favourite moments down, but it seems nothing's really worth my memory anymore. Except the friendship I have with the OGLs,not all, but some, are truly what I want to keep in my heart, what I cherish. Jastine, my cutest son ever, CK, Rachel, Zihua, Maria!!, Cher Li, (mervyn), Roxanne. Such amazing, wonderful people. I guess it's because I don't know them in totality or even near that, but I want to keep these sweet memories just as it is sweet to me now. It might all change, it might all be gone one day, but at least I can look back and remember these friends who I had and actually loved.

The kids? Ha. I only cherish my relationship with, prolly, Kal-lynn. She was the sweetest. She was cooperative, pretty, and she wrote me a really wonderful letter about how I made O1 work for her. I felt so touched by it, for some reason no one else really appreciated us, and I felt she was indeed a really good friend I got to know through Orientation. I wrote her a reply, which is what I'm still waiting for, to say the truth.

Well, when they asked me whether I wanted to go out with them, I didn't exactly want to. Everytime we went out as a OGteam, we never seem to click very well. There are always silences, always awkward pauses, always bored faces. I guess it's in me to make people laugh, but like I mentioned in my previous blog entry, I no longer feel the need to be obliged to do anything or to anyone. I just don't want to, and hence, I'm not going to, go for a gathering and at the end of it feel exhausted from keeping the atmosphere slightly more than alive.
That's quite a lot eh, despite my claim that I get a mental block everytime I try to blog? I'm gone for now.
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Revelations

2006-02-09T11:21:00.000+08:00

Since my blogger is down I shall try to blog into my email.

I've been trying to find the time and energy to blog, but it's just so difficult to because of Prelims and all the other stresses, worries, laziness and tiredness. Guess it's always times when I feel really empty inside or really saddened that I blog. That's prolly why Priya always tell me that my every entry's sad. Well, the reason's now apparent isn't it?

Listened to Dido suddenly on the bus and I felt extremely sappy. I once asked my closest friends: "What if I leave without telling, without a trace?" I prolly got inspired by the book written by Rupert Thompson -- "the Book of Revelation". Indeed, it kinda revealed to me that my life prolly is leading to an emptiness, when one is so detached that teh only thing that he lives for is living, and one no longer feels much for anything anyhow anywhen anywhere. The protagonist does not care about his family nor his love, he is floating, all over the world, marvelling at nothing, or feeling sad for anything.

I think I am feeling this way these days. Existential, call it. When someone falls down, I don't go "oh my god are you ok?" anymore. I'll just react very unfeelingly, the only thing that my mind (not my mouth) says is "oh, someone's fallen". I don't think it's bad or it's good, there's no point in judging that. It's just THAT. Detached. Nothing's too deserving of me going yeehaa! anymore, and I guess even if something really pisses me off, I'll just blow up for a minute, and the next it affects me no longer. Is this what Buddhism or some Confucian thinking says--that one sees through all, nothing is emptiness, emptiness is nothing? Is it too precocious for me to think -- or worse -- FEEL that way now? I'm not embracing it, nor am I trying to avoid it. It's just THAT. See?

"I've always thought I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
Cos there's really nothing left here to stop me.
It's just a thought, only a thought."

dido played into my ear, and always in my mind. I was on the bus to esplanade with Priya, sitting looking out at the road, how everything outside runs past me, how the bus moves quickly on without any knowledge of what is around.

Maybe that is what I want. To go away and roam, never needing or wanting to achieve anything, to live simply and not have any strings attached to me. I don't want to need to feel obliged to do anything, to have any responsibilities. I don't want to need to think about how not to hurt the people around, to die away from the minds I have crossed and be alone. Maybe then will 'I' surface?

How I wish to say, Marcus is DEAD. Then...

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"try to remind myself that i was happy
before i knew that i could get on a plane and fly away
from the road where the cars never stop going through the night
to a life where i can watch the sun set and
take my time, take all our time"

Yeah, it's Dido again. Love the way she puts my thoughts so exactly into verses that make so much sense. Guess that's all I need to say. Before I go away?

Chris

2006-01-07T20:00:00.000+08:00

This is for the sweetest guy I know.

smallgrey picture.jpg

A small, grey picture is all I have.
It sits right in my heart, that face I'd never forget, that face I'd love to adorn with love.

Searching always for 'chris'

Wanting ever so badly to talk to him.

him.

A word of masculinity, a word that speaks

of a shoulder I can lean on

a bosom from which I can hear the melodies of his heart

tunes of love, desire, warmth.

warmth.

is what I'm feeling

bulleting through every vein in me

a mess of emotion awaiting liberation

onto his lips.

in the mirror, love, I've said to myself that I'm beautiful,

and I see you smiling right beside me.

Holding me.

You.

dearest Chris,

I have nothing to say except that you are so awesome. So worthy of love, so brimming with affection. I never imagined I'd meet someone who I can click with so well over the net, but I've found you, and that simply makes me grin. I want you. Know that.

Love,
Marcus.

The roles, reversed.

2006-01-05T21:42:00.000+08:00

Yeah. I've seen him. Yesterday.

I didn't feel much when I saw him. It was the same peace every time.

Saw Andrew, didn't know what to say. I just smiled at him, hoping to share the peace I have. Then came the service, prayers, and then Ahgong's grandchildren and children gave a tribute to him. When Meimei spoke about Ahgong, I couldn't help but start tearing, I could still keep it in. Until she said,

"We will take care of Ahma for you."

I just broke out in tears. Then was holding a moment of silence for Ahgong. It was worse. I just tried to breathe as deep as possible, I didn't want to affect anyone else, I didn't want to cry out loud. After waiting a while for the others to go first, I went round Ahgong to see him one last time. He passed away peacefully, Ahma said, without much pain or struggle. Mom said he probably wanted to keep his last breath till he reached home, and when he did, he was relieved enough to let go.

I walked past the family, and gave Andrew a pat on the shoulder. Inside me I was about to burst forth, I tried not to look at Ahgong too much, I tried to keep it in. I was already biting my lip. When I returned to the table I was originally at, I saw my sis with tear-filled eyes, Esther crying. At that moment I felt like running to a corner where no one was and cry it all out. It was already brinking upon me, my tears just kept flowing. It's Ahgong. Almost my Granddie. I'm close to him. And he's gone.

After a while, Sis asked me to go see Ahma, seated not too far away. I nodded my head, trying all the harder to contain myself. I didn't want to make Ahma even sadder than she already is. I sat down in front of her, and held her hand.

"this grandson, good. Good," she said in Hokkien, to Lai Ping. "Came to see Ahgong twice, he didn't reply."

When I heard that I couldn't help but cry. I was already losing it. I held her hand tighter, and she just said to me.

"Don't cry. Don't cry."

I just felt so loved, felt the roles entirely reversed. I just felt that Ahma was so close to my heart, and she knows I'm hurting, and I know she's hurting. It's a feeling I can't really explain, but I guess you can compare it to the feeling you get when you're trying not to cry, and someone comes up to give you a hug. You just can't help but let your sorrow go, let it overtake you for that moment.

It was hard for me not to cry, to let go, to just leave like that.

After saying bye to everyone, I just had to run up to Ahgong, see him one last time and say,

"I'm going first. Bye."

Yet again, the roles reversed.

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7:30 tomorrow?

2006-01-03T22:19:00.000+08:00

maybe you guessed?

No, I didn't. I didn't visit Ahgong today. He's gone already.

I don't know, but I feel relieved, at peace. Maybe the peace yesterday was a prequel to this peace I'm feeling.

It was Orientation, cheering, screaming. Went into the Costume Room to chat with Pree and Jas. Laughing at some big joke and suddenly the SMS arrives. Mom said :

"as I've sensed, ahgong passed away not long ago."

I really couldn't help but be stuck right there.

There was still that excess adrenaline from OGLing, speeding endorphins from the ringing joke in my mind, the sudden pang of someone leaving. I just felt conflicted to the point where I just couldn't feel anything. Just like how you can't hear anything anymore after a loud rock concert.

"I didn't want to see Ahgong. Too scared that I'll cry. So sad."
"I went to see ahgong. I felt he wouldn't go so soon."
"Who's going to go ahgong's wake tomorrow?"

Me. 7:30 tomorrow?

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not too soon?

2006-01-02T22:43:00.000+08:00

I went to see Ahgong again today.

It was quite difficult for me, I felt it too sudden to adjust to seeing him. In the afternoon it was running around the city having fun, then suddenly it's Ahgong on the hospital bed.

This time Beverly, Ahma and Meiyi were there. Like what happened yesterday, I stood there looking at Ahgong, unable to do anything once again. I didn't feel useless: I felt there was nothing to be done. When I look at Ahma and Meiyi looking at Ahgong, I couldn't help but sense their helplessness. When I asked Meiyi what the doctor said, she just said this.

"Nothing. He's not good."

The gleam that used to be in her eyes have passed away, she looked almost blank. She just ran her hand over Ahgong's head, now all bald because of the chemo. I just wanted to be there for them. Just to see that Ahma was doing ok.

Ahma put on a strong front, like she always does when there's people around her. When she realised Pree and Jas were outside, she started joking about me finding girls, and how I am of the age to have relationships, of how I shouldn't have two girls:

"They will fight," Ahma said, in Hokkien.

I felt so close to her, I felt she was like my real Grammy. When she talked about me needing to find a girlfriend already, I told her, when I have one, I'll bring her to Ahma. It suddenly hit me that I wanted to assure her so much that I love her, that she is in my heart always. It struck me how Ahgong wouldn't see that day, how Ahgong wouldn't be able to be with Ahma anymore. How alone Ahma would be. When I was leaving I had to hug her, I couldn't go without assuring her again that I love her, that I love Ahgong. I just said what I said yesterday, to take care and have rest.

I walked over to see Ahgong, who was in about the same position he was in when I visited him yesterday. He looked the same, motionless, but not as uncomfortable as yesterday. I felt conflicted somehow, I didn't want to see him, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to see him and show him I love him, yet I couldn't find the way to do so. I just said in Hokkien, Ahgong, I'm here to see you.

He didn't say anything; he just made a gutteral noise and his eyes fixed on me. I wanted to cry.

Ahma said, "Ahgong, your grandson is here to see you."

I felt. Felt. Something I can't put into words. I tried to smile at Ahgong, to tell him it's fine that you don't reply, I know you're hurting. I felt like a family with Ahgong and Ahma, like their real grandson. I kept wanting to see them, I didn't really want to leave. But Ahma was visibly tired and needed rest, I didn't want to tire her out.

Somehow when I left I felt a certain peace, I felt that Ahgong was not going to leave too soon. I felt that Ahgong would still live for a while more. I don't know whether that's good or not, but I know that when he finally returns to God's arms, I'd be crying real hard. Worse that I did when my real Granny passed away.

I tell myself, Ahgong will be back in God's arms, that it'd be a blessing for him to return to Heaven before the Final Judgement, but I can't help but hope that this is what Ahma and her family are telling themselves too. Pray that they have strength, have the faith that Ahgong's death would be just like passing away -- away from this world into the eternal paradise.

God guard his soul.
and his family. especially old Ahma.
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a-leaving.

2006-01-01T21:05:00.000+08:00

just feeling mixed. after seeing my friends on MSN and talking to them, joking, having fun swooning over Ricardo Kaka (oh gosh he's the cutest thing) and laffin, I suddenly feel thrown off my what I wanted to write when I visited Ahgong this afternoon. I felt I had to pen it down, to write it down, to sort it out.

he's leaving.

he suffered from stomach cancer, or something somewhere around that region. I knew about it months ago, didn't really react because I though he was getting better. He was, until the cancer took over him and now leaves a sign at his ward's door -- "NOTHING BY MOUTH".

He can no longer eat, or drink. The doctor said they tried their best, and it's now time to bring him back home. Where no one would be able to help clear his phlegm from his throat, where no one can give professional help. Which means, there's no more time left for him. Which means, let him pass away in his home.

I couldn't help but break into tears when I saw him, when I heard from Ahma about his condition, when I was praying for him, when ElderLim came to pray together. He's jusy lying there, eyes half-of-half open, blank. Covered in blankets, constantly trying to clear his throat but ending up making noises and coughing. He can't even cough. It just stays in him. In him. The nurse has to come, ask us to go out, suck the phlegm out with some machine. I couldn't help but tear when I heard the machine go off, and him coughing. It just struck me that Ahgong really has a place in my heart. A dear place. Just like a real Granddie to me.

When I arrived I went straight to see him, and all his daughters were just sitting around, not knowing what to do, their faces woeful. Really, it's like waiting for Ahgong. To say something, to react, to leave? I felt that feeling of being unable to do anything -- like a sitting duck -- when I saw Ahgong lying there. I tried talking to him but I didn't know what to say. I knew he knew I was there, but I couldn't help but stand there. I couldn't do anything. I didn't know what I could do except stand there and BE there. That's why I cried. It's so difficult for me to get closer to him. So difficult to express how much I feel for him, to tell him that I love him.

When it was time to go I went out, after hugging Ahmah and saying my goodbyes, but I just couldn't leave. I wanted to kiss Ahgong. I went back in, everyone's shocked that I returned, and then I just stood there again. Looking at Ahgong and placing my hand on his bent knees. I wanted to kiss him, but I just couldn't bring myself to. Think I'm too shy. But I just didn't want to leave. Something told me to stay, I knew it was just a very short time that he has. A long time before I'll get to see him again.

I'm going to see him tomorrow again. Wonder whether he'd be there till then. I just hope he won't be feeling too difficult in these last hours. God is with Him, amen, I know in my heart that he's going back to the Lord's arms. Embracing the angels.

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Hello World.

2005-12-30T13:12:00.000+08:00

Hello world! That's what I have to say after gaining access once again to the wonderful yet treacherous system known as the ...

INTERNET.

Wa haha, I haven't been online: at least not from Home: FOR ABOUT MORE THAN A YEAR.

What a sad life, yes, but now now, I'm back on track. So, sorry those who missed me :D I'm back to blast my blog more often: FROM HOME! haha.

See ya darlings.

not Standing no more

2005-10-21T11:13:00.000+08:00

cheers to the return of the long lost blogger.

forget the double negative. take it as a stint of acting-cool.

honestly, these days i find myself without a stand. don't really have a stand on anything. that's why i don't blog? ha. Actually, i don't blog so often cuz my internet's o configured at home. And who's to do it? me. but i don't really want to.

hmm, the air smells bad. I mean, after promos, with people getting great results, you can't help but feel insecure about yourself, whether you'll weather through, whether everything's gonna turn out fine after the two-year blast-off-to-space period called college life.

Hey, i do have a stand, don't i. I hate guys who flex their muscles and laugh, thinking they're some cool guy. Comparing the extent of the height of their muscles and how sinewy it looks and exchanging pointers. Gosh, if that's what defines a guy I'm so not being one. Not like I have a choice. But, do you know my sex?

Reading so many books all of a sudden, me. Two history books on the Origins of the French Rev and McNamara's take on the VietWar, Virgin Suicides (no, not contemplating suicide, ain't a virgin), a Mandarin book, Euripides. wonder how am i to finish all these?

Yeah, my results ain't really that good. Thinking about my future, I don't really see a clear picture. I guess college life really blurs the vision sometimes, when alls wells for other friends and decisions quickly made, and you just fantasise for a moment, being above yourself. Great.

My DS! Ahh. I hate the teachers when it comes to this. Truly. Shouldn't your tutors try to at least give a note of encouragement when your ideas for a totally original piece of theatre are still at the embryonic stage and not ask you questions with tones filled with doubt and suspicion!? Really quite angry. The nightmares from the past, says Priya. Prove them wrong, says Talia. Yeah, all right.

Thinking of doing the Sacrifice of Iphigenia. But don't really know the details. Know that there are three stages: Wedding, Blood Sacrifice, Artemis' intervention. I want masks and sound. Ya know, Band yesterday gave me a great idea. Ok, take the great back.

Wedding choir turns to evil, sinister, initially light humming of repeated rhythm then accelerating and finally bursting to a chant for a death scribe. Cool? ok. i'll work on that.

DS-Movement, with Masks and Sound as minor Skills. Not bad. Marcus Yew. Shit my sex is revealed.

not like no one knew it in the first place.

ok, maybe some didn't.

ok. ok.

Going on to the Band. Really, the band's new instalment: what i choose to call a replacement, Mr Tan, is quite irritating. Talks too much, darling. but, not bad in teaching. Learn a whole lot in a short time. While Mr Loke's regime (not really a regime, say, influence, permissive leadership perhaps) was really about discovering and learning it yerself. and, his scent smells of a familiar eau de toilette -- made really for the Toilette. as in, amby pur kind?

got the tan I want. sounds bimbotic no less, but yeah. Like it. Hate the peeling skin -- BUY ME A SCRUB, someone.

yeah, i'm broke, you might have guessed.

ooh, got a fantabulous A+++ for my duologue with Talia. Good job. a 14.8 over 20. like, so +++ ain't it. Not getting marks oriented here but just vehement over the lack of recognition. just like GP-- 60 to 69's a B3. 70-74's an A2. 75's an A1. Why not follow this standard instead: A1's >75, A2's 66-74, and B3's whatever. Ain't that more encouragement. Alls A! alhamdulilah!

thank God, that means. Love it.

Ya know, it's time for GP and it's boredom.
Meanwhile, love me.

Love, me. BRB.

Passion-Love-Desire-Urban Living

2005-08-02T14:20:00.000+08:00

Sitting right beside. Yet never really looking, can't really see. Looking out the scenery speeds by, building after building after rows of trees. My eye peeps at its corner, blurred view of a good stature. The denim constantly rubbing at my knee. A small weight rests on my shoulder. My blood halts -- then rushes -- red all over. A night of heat, the friction of the skin, the emancipated lips -- bell. "Sorry. Excuse me." Clipped English, sheepish smile, a rough cough. Deeper and deeper, my breathing I tried to hold.

He leaves, his back view I hope to remember, but never to know.

____
__
_
.

Not really.

2005-08-02T14:09:00.000+08:00

Nothing's really happened, so nothing's really written.

Nothing's really worth to say, so nothing's really said.

Nothing's really struck me, 'cept the friends I have with me.

Talia, Yeek, Priya, really great friends. Can't imagine VJ life without them. Priya's not here today and I feel weird all day. Just wondering, whether all this will last, whether it'd be like the past, where it simply got blown away by time, or destroyed by my own id.

There's Hanisah. Constant, loving friend. Not that I don't want to talk to you, but sometimes I find it hard. Hard to get an alone you. hard to spend singled time. so what about you? something to tell me?

Delivering my Confesion Letters soon.

Prepare for the worst nightmares. :D

Not really.

A man, an_other, and a starless sky

2005-07-18T11:19:00.000+08:00

It sure was dark, the stench from all the games wafted once I brought my nose an inch closer.

Starless.

He approached, this 1.8m Malay man, specs and all blacks, a slight after-note of cigarette, stubble. Walked from Toa Payoh to AngMoKio, said he, panting. Gave him a hug and sat down, talking about his grandmother to his plans to my school, to a drink in the nearby coffeeshop. Goodbye.

30 years old, found his number in a toilet. Joe, N-levels Jan 2006, cleaning line, supervisor, what's tml?, y r u doing this 2 me, what u 1 i d n t, pls let me, hospitalised grandmother, 28 yearold sister, quarrel, speechless, block 126, meet a friend first, 1 1/2, 2 1/2, small huh? pls?

Thank God I didn't.

What would have brought me to take down numbers from a toilet wall?

He kept touching me, getting chances to say I love you, grabbing me when the opportunity comes, hinting his sexuality.

I kept evading, never wanting to tell him about myself. Couldn't bring myself to say, "Me too."

You're a good friend, Andrew, and I knew you before you did.

I can't bring myself to you, yet.

See you next week in Church?
Bye. Hugs.

Starless still. an_other night_ .

It kills me.

2005-07-18T11:03:00.000+08:00

after reading maya's blog while listening to Dido i'm just blown away, depressed.

... to stay in my own skin
then I wouldn't feel lost and so frightened
but it is too deep
and I'm lost in my own skin.

I feel wretched. So base. So judgemental, so rotten. A tongue acidified, a mouth cursed.

I've been degrading i think, lost in my own violence of thought, hatred and sexual energy.
So superficial, so deep into myself. That I'm lost and so frightened. Of myself.

So empty, so marred. Crawling on the floor. Trying to help yourself.

Inside, everybody's hiding something.

I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore.

How much different am I to them?

Agreed_

2005-07-18T10:33:00.000+08:00

yeah it's been more frequent I know. Ain't it a good thing?

Not that I have a fetish for underscores.

Agreed_?

Haven't exactly explored my life in Church, have I? It's not a really gorgeous place to be. I feel more comfortable in school actually. Yet the only thing that repels me from Church is probably the youth. The politics, the fake smiles. The concern that originates from obligation, instead of true love. Then again, what's true love. Who told you those smiles were fake? At least they do seem so. (i just answered my own question-- a rhetorical one at that.)

What brings me to talk about my church ain't any antagonism. I felt rather happy and at peace yesterday at East Coast picnicking with the bunch. Everything went smooth and well, guess cuz I was in a happy mood. :D Anyway I got the chance to patch up nicer-ly with Jiaxian, this guy who totally fucked me angry (no pun, oui?). But at least yesterday I managed to break the ice--or at this, fire on my part-- and played a good game of volleyball. Red marks like crow's feet appearing all over my arm now. Wrong technique, oui?

btw, oui means yes in french.

by the way, btw is by the way.

"by the way". = btw.

k.

The girls were really fun to be with, talking and slacking. seeing my sister build rather good rapport with the gossippers and accusers was a good sight. And we played a good game of captain's. I just felt rather cheesed off at how competitive Benjamin and Weikang were. They really influence each other. Negatively. Benjamin dyed his hair golden together with Weikang, and used FUCK after Weikang started coming out of the "no fuck" closet of the church, and so on. Detrimental, i daresay. Oh and btw Peter learnt cycling. At least and at best basically.

Happy for him :D

did i say? Weikang's in early 20s and Benjamin's 14. Sticky.

anyways. Happy tht I got to play the games I love to play and also, cycle. didn't get to see many hot guys, but then again, what's the fun in that. :D

p.s. I love playing duet with you liddle preecheese! Thanks Yeek for buying the CD for me.

__________

______

___

_

.
Liberated, I feel.

Agreed_.

A Catharsis.

2005-07-15T16:05:00.000+08:00

Really familiar note.

Maroon 5 running through loudly through my ears, into my head, down to my heart and up again. It's been a day. Yesterday. And days before.

MOFOS.

Talk wednesday. The thing I remember is the college day practice. Me being the emcee with a talented KarMun simply screwed up. This evening became this evesnings. Too much S language, ain't it. Couldn't perform after a mistake. Just couldn't speak well, my tongue disgustingly tied. The bitch of a Chinese Dept. head--even that bitch of a bitch--told me off. Fuck can really come in handy. Next wednesday's gonna be a really nerving day for me i guess, these shadows somehow never pass-- especially when there's a deadly combination of a close friend, a TSD tutor and a Lit teacher Ms Chris Tan. It gets to you and stays there. Period. So much for all the practice I had on bus rides home.

It's still running, maroon 5. "this is not goodbye she said, it's just time to rest my head".
Really, I'm not thinking about Cheryl anymore. It's just the song.

?

... .

Yes. Terday. --WAS THAT JUST LAME OR WHAT!?

goodness, it was a day for PE. A day for mofos to reveal their dirty side (sounds familiar, priya. i mean the use of DIRTY) . In case you were wondering, mofo ain't mother fouker. it's basically Marks Oriented and Face Oriented. Not beauty queen face but FACE as in fame, as in shame. Honestly, I observed many ugly things. Who am I to judge. I'm just delivering my observations. Trying to quantify myself.

Realised after every game there's always the same people dscussing how they managed to win, how they lost because of some mistake, repetitions of the scores and all. I don't mind that triumphant cheer the winning teams have; they're just celebrating, it's a fun game for them. But there are just people like michael and priya and karmun who go on about the scores and all.

Maybe not to a loud extent for Priya, she simply replies to Michael as a form of politeness. Damn him man, that irritating bugger, always concerned about how people look at him, wearing the mask of good public opinion, desiring attention. I just can't stand the way he does it. be subtle, and everythin will be fine.

"It's hard to find a person as competitive to play just a game with me." Yes, I agree with two hands up that YOU're competitive. And he goes on insisting it's JUST a game. Obviously not. He goes on to talk so much about that it seemingly deserves media coverage. KarMun too actually. It is very evident that she is rather mofoic. She seems to always probe about everyone's results for math when she got the top for common test (heard from mathies) and always seeking the results of others. Keep it to yourself and wait for people to say, honey, if they wanna say, they would say even before you ask. And naturally when someone (an astute judge, evidently) said "Karmun's such a mofo" (along those lines, can't really remember, basically saying she's superconcerned about results and WINNING), she flared up.

Revelation.

GUILT.

I'm so damned guilty about passing judgements. I mean. I know it seems really conflicting. Having mood swings just helps.

It is really true and evident that priya is a marks-driven person. But it is also clear and true that she isn't out to hurt anyone, to surpass anyone or anything. Evidently though michael, karmun, even Makoto, are. I've always joked about it with Priya, saying she's a MOFO, at times really real-ly. And when the class started adopting my catch and using it on her, he feels very offended, as these OTHER classmates do not exactly understand her situation or her background, so she finds it ridiculous for them to judge her like this. I feel for her and I think fault goes to me too. For starting all that nonsense. And hurting her in the end. Though she claims that it's ok for us closer friends to say it to her, but I still feel bad. Sorry priya baby.

Next I simply have to talk about my highly irritating EZLINK card. It just lost all its magnetic sensitivity on one fine day, and I became a coin-beggar. I thought yesterday was a good time to go down SOMEWHERE to solve the problem, and Yeek, Maya, Pree and I decided to cab down to Pasir Ris to do it. Cab because we were running out of time. Place closes at 6. So.

It cost ten bucks I bet and voila we arived, only to realise I needed my old card to get a new card. THANKS MAN. Wasted all my time, all of OUR money (i feel ultimately guilty about that particularly) and energy. It just totally pissed me off that I couldn't stop fucking. Very literally saying the word. So we still had to MRT ourselves back down to the Esplanade, with me feeling so guilty. SO GUILTY-- That, I never felt before.

I think I'm guilty too for the judgement thing. really. I've implicated those whom I share my dislike of people like Michael. It just struck me like a bolt when Maya and Priya said "I've never discussed people like this back in my old schools."

Revelation.

WORRIES.

For didi. Been distanced from her a week or two. Since the Sentosa trip we never really sat down and talked, never did feel cloe to her for such a long time. Wondering how she's doing and how she feels yet not daring enough to go up to her. How are you, bacin?

For Maya. Her tooth unrooted and her other tooth chipped. Root canal operation coming in two weeks or less. I'm so worried for her!!! Pray God she'll get her BEAUTIFUL teeth restored. Please don't be too scared and be too quiet k dear baby.

For priya. Her concerns for religion, her viewpoints on God, her struggles in drama, her struggles with her class and lastly mofoism. She wants to be more sensitive, and I'm going to pray that for her. God let her. Let her too, become saved.

For myself. Mood swings can kill.

Revelation.

HAH.

talk today. Corrie the Disliked and Rashez went up on stage to thank people for the Public P. woohoo. Holding the programme sheet but leaving US out. Without the juniors you're screwed. So. Thanks for not saying thanks. I bet you didn't see and thus left out our names on the sheet, like how you left out Steph, Disliked. Really, thanks. :D

I LOVE HANISAH CAMPAIGN.

really, thanks hanisah for the love! you're really an angel. I love the way you smile and light up my day, and how you champion so passionately for your cause about terrorists. Though I cannot say COMPLETELY that i agree with you, but you amaze me with your passion, that is so seldom overtly seen. Thanks baby! aku cinta mu-- as a KAWAN.

was that accurate malay? tell me k.

Twain

2005-07-15T15:59:00.000+08:00

Twain.

Weird name.

Shania?

Nah. It's this guy from the VS Track and Field team. He takes 55 to school. He comes to VJ track for practices and apparently is the leader of his team. Really nice bod, nice "ruffable" hair (familiar, priya?), high watt smile.

Seriously scary sexual attraction. Long legs just helps, ya know.

Should have guessed, haven't you?

Waiting. for him to come again. To open my eyes again.

deadweight loss_er_ase_d

2005-07-11T10:05:00.000+08:00

not economics, honey. Never did revise that chapter for mid-years. Woo.

Phew. Just finished a Practical Criticism on two sonnets. Arm aching already. New Zealanders sitting far opposite me, on an exchange from NorthCote College. Rather cool people, I say.

Deadweight loss. Guess I'm thinking of her again. Kinda languid eh. What's languid?

Enough. The vibrant and energetic SMS chat we had yesterday just flooded me with all the feelings I felt before, though on a much lesser degree.

"I'm going to sleep now, sleep early too k :)"

"ok. sleep tight. Love you to bits.

then I thought.

"Ok. sleep tight. ___ ___ __ ___ "

_er_ase_d.

The feelings down now, thank God. Back to my life again. without her, it's really quite empty :)

or,

;( forget it.

___

erased.

Jeez

2005-07-08T08:52:00.000+08:00

goodness. it's been such a long time ain't it. Months. Months of troubles and not exactly happiness.

Dido plays constantly in my head, that nostalgic, melancholic tune. It's a revelation, I guess, to my character, nevertheless a reminder.

If you were a king
Up there on your throne
Would you be wise enough to let me go
For this queen you think you own
Wants to be a hunter again.

I've let her go. Weeks ago, never bothered to remember the exact date. Too painful? Surprisingly I didn't feel the sharpness of the pain that day. Till I've realised how empty I felt. Even before the breakup.

It came stealthily. When I look out of the window of the bus I boarded, when I heard a song, when I saw a face. When I played the piano, when I tried to sleep, when the water ran down my cheeks as I showered. When I talked to Priya, when I tried to stay awake in lectures, when I touched myself, when I saw the couples snuggle in front of me at the movies. when I shared my nachos with myself. Not to romanticise it, not to make it look so petrachan. It's real. So real to me that I could not resist but to blank out, to look so detached, to sound so dead. So real to me that never once did the ache at my chest push tears out my eyes, that the furthest it could go was before the brink.

I didn't treasure it when it was there, she said. I agreed. I didn't try to keep it up. Theatre and studies and church practically filled up my life so much that the other part of me got drowned out, struggling. Yet again as I related my experience to my friends, they said "can call after reaching home late" and "meet weekends". I thought about it. Ashamed. Jeez that would have kept us, you think? Actually after long I thought not. It never was built on hard ground or to put it in another manner, true love. Yijun says, now as I type, in my head : there is no such thing as L-O-V-E. I can't help but believe that it had to end. So when she said to have a short recess time, I ended it.

Can't help but feeling that it's a struggle for both. It was wise to let her go. Now I feel better. Just empty. But better.

I'm fine. I said to my good friend over snail mail. Just waiting for a reply.

Alas!

2005-04-22T15:05:00.000+08:00

It is to my greatest pleasure to announce that I HAVE A BLOG!- finally. Alas there is a place for the bitch to bitch and the id to express idself! (-_-'' not funny, marcxy) This is where I'm gonna blast my lungs out- might be irrational, might be rational. But it's the true blue me. Ya know, sometimes it might be in 华语 and sometimes even in français, italiano, ελληνικά (if this is greek to you, it's actually GREEK), 日本語 and wHATnOT! But there will be translations. I hope. Yay!

Tata for now! =)