Provehito in Altum; Ex Dies Pro

2010-08-06T21:46:00.003+08:00

Ah.

The end of Year 2 semester 1 has cometh.

Well not exactly yet anyway.

Had a lump in my throat as I watched that fierce, uncompromising yet passionate man finally leave the classroom. He was a jolly teacher. Like a proud father presiding over his sons every Thursday, and then Friday. No mistaking how enjoyable his lessons were.

I just hope I won't let him down for UT3.

Well it's time to kick things up another notch. Fasting month's coming. And by God I must and I will complete all 30 days if physically possible. Work finally starts tomorrow. Till the 28th, I shall be an insanely busy and most probably, a very tired young man.

And of course it's really time I stop putting it off already. I did it early for a reason, time to fucking justify it. Next week, screw the late timings, I will try to make each one. Well maybe just for Tuesday and perhaps Wednesday? I don't know. See how school is on those days.

Not as if anyone gives a shit about what gets written here anyway.

Fuck off.

2010-07-27T09:32:00.003+08:00

I know somehow, you've long given up reading this.

Maybe you saw the futility of it somewhere.

Maybe all of you did.

The acute lack of updates did not help.

But I guess it's pretty much symptomatic of the way things have been over the past few months.

Stagnant and inert. Listless and lost.

I've been a really silly person. Incredibly silly to the point where sometimes maybe I should just reconsider my existence here.

Perhaps it's the rationality of it. The question of whether I'm willing to let my fear dictate what I do and the decisions I make.

I still owe her an explanation. Well, I hope I still do. I have no way of knowing how she feels now. Letting her email go unread for 1.5 months was really stupid on my part. I even managed to let her birthday slip from my mind, although she never really left it. I was so scared to face the truth I tried and tried to run away from it, and ended up hurting no one but myself.

I hope she's still willing. I do hope that she'd still give me a chance. I told her I would wait, she said okay, wait if you want to. All she wants is an answer. Just that. But will it be something she'll ever let herself hear? Will it be something she finally bring herself to accept? I don't know. The decision is hers to make. I can only wait.

What I can do is, at least give her a tacit reassurance that I'll always be here when she needs someone to talk to. Nothing's changed on that part I hope. 2010 was a year where I swore to myself I would not set myself expectations, I would not succumb to false hope. Yet with her, things seem so different. I don't want to tell myself to hope for intangible things. I don't want to wake up each day expecting something right out of my reach. But with her, everything's not the same. It never is.

You know, I miss her company. I miss the way she insists she's Chinese. I miss those long conversations and candid pictures. It feels so clichéd to say these things over and over again but what the hell.

I hate passing by a Starbucks and getting reminded of her, each time. I hate seeing a checkered shirt or court shoes out in the MRT, bus or even in school. One can have all the money, all the bikes, cars, gadgets he wants. But that void in his heart is something money or material wealth can never fill.

But how do I go from here, when the person she yearns so much for is someone else?

I hope out there, she remembers me once in a while. Perhaps she might recall all our fleeting moments together. Perhaps she might even smile.

2010-07-15T13:22:00.003+08:00

Lollipops turn into cigarettes. The innocent ones turn into sluts.

Homework goes in the trash. Handphones are being used in class.

Detention becomes suspension. Soda becomes vodka.

Bikes become cars. Kisses turn into sex.

Remember when getting high meant swinging on the playground?

When protection mean wearing a helmet?

When the worst things you could get from girls were cooties?

Dad's shoulders were the highest place on Earth and mum was your hero?

Your worst enemies were your siblings.

Race issues were about who ran the fastest. War was only a card game.

And the only drug you knew was cough medicine.

When wearing a skirt didn't make you a slut.

The most pain you felt was when you skinned your knees, and goodbyes only meant until tomorrow?

And we couldn't wait to grow up.

2010-06-18T21:53:00.000+08:00

Downhill.

Rolling merrily, like jet fuel at 6Gs. Simply breathtaking.

Help.

2010-06-17T10:02:00.000+08:00

Nicotine is part of the natural food chain
Most of us in fact consume Nicotine everyday
Trace elements are found in common foods and vegetables such as potatoes, tomatoes, bell peppers, cauliflower, eggplant, chili peppers, and some teas.
Saying nicotine is bad for you is like saying grapes are bad for you as they are contained in wine and people die of alcohol poisoning.

Why Nicotine Is good For You
Nicotine is known to affect the neurotransmitters in the brain and improve mood concentration and attention.
It is therefore the subject of intense medical research to prevent and treat the following diseases and conditions:
Depression
Schizophrenia
Alzheimer's Disease
Parkinson's disease
Attention Disorders
And many more including, some cancers and even obesity, as Nicotine is a natural appetite suppressant.

Medical research is ongoing and other health benefits may emerge as more people come to accept the fact that Nicotine is good for us.

2010-06-10T00:09:00.002+08:00

So it was another one of those holiday nights.

Nowhere to go.

Thoughts swirling through my mind.

Feeling like I could use a rewind.

I left the house, somber.

Bored out of my wits.

Fumbling for my sticks and lighter,

Desperately needing my fix.

2010-05-31T20:05:00.002+08:00

There were times, where it seemed all he could do was drop everything and run, just run. Where to? He didn't know.

Then there were other occasions, where all he wanted to do was die. To be devoid of feeling. Feeling anything at all.

What was it she said? How had everything been then? He could barely remember. His head was in a noxious cloud of cigarette smoke which never seemed to go away, no thanks perhaps to the ubiquitous cigarette in his hand. Chain smoking was his escape now, his form of turning off the world.

What rubbish.

The open-air shopping complex was completely deserted. Not surprising, at 3 in the morning, wandering around town like the lost soul that he was. It was either that or stay at home, where he could feel his sanity slow ebb away through the pale white walls.

He wanted to fish out another stick but resisted the urge. Enough. Having just bought the pack of 20 earlier on, he was now down to 7. The rate at which he was going through the fags left himself astonished, even scared for a moment, then slowly moved on to mere nonchalance.

Someone threw up nearby. He turned to look.

She looked familiar. Then recognition dawned on his face. It was his friend. Someone he hadn't contacted for a long time. Or vice versa rather.

And she was blind drunk.

He approached her, unsure of what to do. Would she recognize him in that state? Dunno.

"Hey."

No reply.

He touched her arm, "You okay mate?"

She was hunched over, hands on her knees, groaning. He wondered if she was even alive at that point.

He decided to simply play the concerned stranger. No need for any heartfelt reunions or "long-time-no-sees" and hugs and crap like that. There was a time and place for everything. Although he doubted she would meet him again, at least voluntarily. Another friend he'd lost in time.

She was quiet for awhile, then stood up and looked him over.

"Who you..." she drawled.

"No one. I'm nobody. Just checking to see whether you could use some help. A screwdriver too many I suppose?"

She said nothing. Just stared at him.

He suddenly felt awkward. Did she recognize him?

She suddenly shrugged, turned behind and began to stagger to a group of girls nearby. Some were dead-drunk, a few were boisterous enough to be shouting continuously at the moon, only 2 of them were sober.

He wanted to call out to her, but decided not to. It was pointless.

"Bye."

He ground out the butt and started walking. Where to? He didn't know.

2010-05-29T19:56:00.002+08:00

Typing has suddenly become something heavenly.

Everything looks beautiful here.

And it all seems swift too.

Colours are great. Simply holding this thing is like a dream.

Ah well.

Here's to a great time ahead for the both of us bud.

2010-05-28T18:56:00.001+08:00

After all this, why?

What a hopeless case.

2010-05-20T22:47:00.000+08:00

Many parts of me died tonight.

And it won't be the last.

2010-05-13T22:34:00.001+08:00

Watching all those graduands with their robes and diplomas and posing for photos gives me a lump in my throat.

Everything is now rotten. Rotten to the core.

2010-05-09T13:20:00.005+08:00

Sad, just sad.

Losing friends has become something of an endemic for me. More often than not, I find that each day seems destined for something bad to happen. But that's just me. It seems others have it good after all. Even the friend I've lost.

Like Shaik would say, I eat shit, so that others can be happy. A balancing act, if I may. Like how all the shit comes to me so that my best friend can be happy, like he is now. With everything.

Good for him.

It is true after all. I mean look at him. School's coming fine, more or less. Blessed in love, so many friends, showered with attention, a hell of a family back home. It's no wonder, the way I'm in the opposite spectrum right now, I can never be truly happy. My best friend has it all, and to balance it someone must take the brunt of the crap. That someone is me. It's a thankless job, but I guess, for him, I'd swallow all the shit in the world. It's better that way.

Friends. Or what's left of them. It's sad. Like I how I still remember her. Our last meeting, back in June last year. And the complete turnaround after that. After days and weeks of relentless soul-searching I still have no idea what went wrong. I don't know. I guess I'll never know.

And then they came, one after another, the people closest to my heart left, some under violent unforeseen circumstances, others due to faults of my own.

Never would I have thought that the two people whom I love and trust would turn their backs on me in an instant. I don't blame them. The fault completely lies in me. Through my brash actions and thoughtless decorum.

I really cut a pitiful, pathetic figure. What the hell. I don't know who I can turn to now. The person with whom I share my most intimate secrets with isn't here, when I need him the most. Expecially now. When an email is sitting in my inbox and I don't dare open it myself because only he would know why.

I want to cry but I've got no more tears to shed. I'm so emotionally exhausted right now it drains me. I can barely lift my head up. All my flaws are right there, for the world to see. And they have cost me dearly.

Those out there who have no idea what they truly have, perhaps you should fucking cherish them. Especially to certain individuals out there who don't seem to appreciate what's in front of them and how some people still go up to them to beg for your time of the day. Even after the fucked-up attitude you displayed.

You really don't deserve her attention after all. You don't deserve anything, you motherfucking ungrateful bastard.

I guess this is how it is after I've had lesson after bitter lesson shoved down my throat after all these years. When I'm the one who wouldn't warrant a second look or even have people begging me to come back into their lives.

Now I've truly got no one left. No one at all. Luckless in love, crashing and burning, again and again. It's a wonder why I haven't had any skin grafts yet.

I'm the guy who's not cool enough for anyone. Who smokes when he shouldn't be smoking because it irks others who think he should left at home to jerk off. Or the guy who isn't that much of a looker and thus, shouldn't be seen with in public.

Oh my self-pity could drown Poseidon.

But then, it's never too late to be early, or try and maintain some scrap of integrity and certainty I guess.

Catch some, Husrin.

2010-05-09T00:02:00.003+08:00

I guess in some ways, I should've seen this.

I knew your reply all along, way before I got it. Way before I even wrote to you.

I will never be enough for anyone. I will never satisfy anyone. I will never please anyone. Oh sinners, shall we come?

Fuck myself.

2010-05-04T09:56:00.004+08:00

Unlike you, I do not seem to possess the acumen to socialise effectively.

Unlike you, I have lost my core group of friends through simple deliberate actions of my own.

Unlike you, I do not command the vast resources at your disposal to maintain my expensive whims and hobbies.

Unlike you, I am currently studying on a time-bomb; a sinking ship. I am not enjoying this. I am in the wrong place.

Unlike you, I cannot face myself in the mirror without feeling a tinge of regret. Always.

Unlike you, I don't have everything at my feet.

Unlike you, I do not possess a single shred of originality.

Unlike you, I have close to nothing left.

Unlike you, I no longer have any discernible form of life.

Unlike you, the longer I hold the camera, the longer I waste my time.

Unlike you, expensive cameras are a fucking waste for me.

Unlike you, I am nothing.

I may have won the battle,

But unlike you, ultimately I have lost the war.

You win, Shaik.

You win.

2010-04-30T14:34:00.002+08:00

She felt weak, as if her energy was being sapped away by the blinding lights around her. Her knees were wobbly, although she was sitting down on the bed. Her bed. The white sheets seemed especially radiant tonight. The rumples from where her body had lain were still visible. The smell of clean linen permeated her nose. It calmed her.

She heard the ghosts, every single one. The apparitions of her past had come, and she knew it was for the last time. She could feel them around her, blinding her, shrouding her, slowly suffocating her with their voices and hushed, unspoken doubts. Feelings that plagued her almost her entire life.

The room was dark, with only the moonlight through the curtains providing scant illumination. Standing by the window, she cut a haunting figure, her long hair flowing past her shoulders, her pale-white nightie billowing around her legs. She was pretty, but the emotional turmoil had taken a toll on her, and it showed. Eye-bags hung above her high cheekbones. She was pale, almost gaunt. Then scars of previous attempts stood out, stark on her wrists. She looked tired, a shadow of her former self, although she often hid it well.

She'd never been someone emotionally strong. She found confiding in someone extremely difficult for some reason, even she had been unsure why. No one knew anything personal about her, through primary and secondary school, and now poly. She made a point of bottling up every single one of her problems, until finally, the dam had burst open, and here she was.

There was no turning back. No one would understand, she reasoned with herself. No one cared. Nobody gives a fuck. Everyone's got their own little world to be concerned about. Hell, would they even notice I'm gone?

Gingerly she stepped out onto the balcony. She felt the wind brush against her skin on her legs and shivered. 14 floors up. She watched the city lights in front of her. She stood there for a moment, wondering what could've been. Wondering what would never be.

Does anyone understand you? Hell no.

How do you know? It's just what I feel.

You shouldn't give up. Give yourself a second chance.

No more. No more chances. I can't take this shit anymore. Not with myself.

The voice of reason tried in vain to halt the inevitable, but she brushed it off.

Her vision in front began to swim. The drugs were beginning to hit her, slowly at first, then spreading through her bloodstream with full force. In that instant she saw everything. A kaleidoscope of fuzzy memories from the past and present. She saw herself at her 7th birthday party, the year before the divorce. Her mom with the party hat on her coiffed hair and her dad carrying the video-camera. She saw herself at the polytechnic's orientation, smiling and laughing with the people she knew as her friends. She saw herself at Hong Kong, when she was 14 years old, a school trip. She saw him, holding hands, smiling, laughing at the moon, their dates, kisses. The tears came, but she did not notice them. The images moved faster. She saw herself at her sister's wedding. Her grandma's funeral 3 years back. The first time she had gone clubbing. A class chalet from secondary school. The voices and images flashed by faster and faster until they exploded into a single, latent image that slowly opened in front of her.

She was suddenly alone, but her surroundings had changed. She was on a cliff, overlooking a quarry. The water was a deep blue and the sky was gold. It was a beautiful sight. Then she remembered where this was. It had been a school trip in secondary 4; a hike through Pulau Ubin. They had entered the quarry during a rest period and had been mesmerized by the incredible view. She had watched the various birds fly above the quarry, and had thought about how incredible the view must've been to them from up there. She had wanted to fly like them, feel the freedom, enjoy the fantastic view. She had laughed it off at the time as something ridiculous and unattainable. But now was different. Now she was finally going to fly. Fly far away from her problems and her crap. Fly away from everything she'd ever known. With a deep breath, she leaped off the edge of the cliff, felt the sun on her face, and spread her wings...

***

The phone rang in his ear. Six times. Seven. Eight. At 12 he hung up. This was the fourth time. And she had not answered.

He stared out into the night. The city lights seemed brighter for some reason. The whiskey had calmed his nerves, and he felt his mind beginning to wander. Thinking scary thoughts. Assuming the worst. He told himself to be calm. There was always an explanation. She was asleep. That's why she isn't answering.

But even as he told himself that, he found himself looking into the night sky and saying a silent prayer. A prayer for a friend in need, a prayer for hope that someone out there would make it through the night, and that he would see her the next morning.

2010-04-28T15:56:00.000+08:00

Everything's in a downward spiral.

Spiralling..

2010-04-26T22:55:00.002+08:00

In that instant, he felt it.

In that thirtieth of a second, he felt every nuance, could sense every detail as if it were happening in slow motion. He felt the shutter click, upwards, as the light came bursting through and imprinted itself permanently onto the flat surface of silver halide behind it. A moment in time, frozen forever. Stopped by a small section of plastic and some chemicals.

He felt calm. He lowered the camera down from his face and watched the scenery in front of him. Stoic-faced. Such was the beauty of shooting film. With digital almost wiping out the venerable celluloid-based format these days, the satisfaction of having only 36 chances at a time to make history was too much to resist for him. Film taught you things. It taught you patience. It taught you to treasure your shots, to think about them, to feel them. It taught you that once it's taken, it's taken. There's no turning back. No delete button. Thus, preparation is key. There's no wastage. No pointless machine-gunning of the shutter only to delete half the junk captured afterwards. The very essence of photography lost in a microchip.

Photography was his theraphy. His escape. His way of expressing his emotions and thoughts. Feelings and memories. Oh he had once been one of them. Digital had been the way to go. In the modern age, who wouldn't? Film began to suffer a slow and painful death, and many thought it would soon vanish altogether. But purists and enthusiasts fought for its survival, and today film survived.

With his first DSLR, he had been ecstatic. The quality itself was superb, handling was amazing, and the photos began pouring out of it. But as time passed, something didn't feel right. Or perhaps it was just his dissatisfaction. The fragile electronics in his camera were prone to damage, and repairs were costly. There were times where the camera became unusable for months on end, and he would be left moping with nothing to do. He grew frustrated. Depressed.

Film had called out to him. Like an old friend from long ago, it beckoned him to resume a once forgotten friendship.

And he had never turned back.

2010-04-25T22:48:00.002+08:00

It's a battle I started but will never finish.

It's a war I instigated but will see no end.

Everything cocks up, starting now. Never, ever ending.

Like how I'm gonna lose the battle and the war.

This is how it's gonna be.

Then bring it on.

Punitive measures.

There is no other fault but my own.

Goodbye.

2010-04-04T15:17:00.007+08:00

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Sometimes the most insignificant gestures can mean alot to me. Little things like untagged photos or blog posts make me think so much, turning all kinds of thoughts over and over in my head. Wondering why. Why these things happened. I'm so sensitive like that.

I don't blame myself for being so. It's just how I am really. A genetic trait I inherited from my mother. Nothing wrong with it. It's just that there are countless times where it all gets to me because I just can't figure out why. Why all these seemingly inconsequental things happened. It confuses me so much; how you seem to say one thing yet do another.

I want to tell myself to be passive. I want to tell myself, hey stop being sad. Blah blah blah. Yeah if only it was so easy. You know what? I don't want to seem sore, or angry, or even mean. Maybe you're still a long way from truly understanding what I've been trying to bring across. Maybe you're still unaware of the fine line being want and sincerity. Maybe you're just afraid. I don't want to be frustrated anymore. Being let down after all these years just makes each and every time seem harder to face.

But at the same time, I just want to continue to do one thing. Endure. Endure each and very tribulation as best as I could, just brush them one by one off my shoulders. The clock never stops ticking. There really isn't anything much I can do. Nothing at all.

I guess that old problem just keeps on coming back to haunt me. Time after time. My heart simply raised you up to much. Countless times I tell myself, keep your cool, false hope kills. It always does. Yet it happens.

But the blame falls squarely on me. Always has been. But this time around I really put the highest hopes on you. Does it reek of naïveté? Maybe. But recalling the circumstances back then, I guess it was a logical decision. Really. All the things I had been through affected me greatly. You were there. A reflection of me. Someone who fears the intangible. Someone who secretly yearns for the meaningful.

But I guess, it's all over now. Everything. Another part of me has died, thinking about this. Perhaps you misunderstood me. Just like how everyone did. Perhaps you weren't prepared for anything. Perhaps you mistook my sincerity for something else. I don't know. I've given up wanting the answers. Because sometimes I just feel that I'm better off not knowing them. I just don't know what to expect anymore. Or feel. Or even hope. No matter how I try it's simply setting myself up for another disappointment. Another opportunity to be shot down once again. Where happy endings are as common as snow in Bangkok.

So now it ends. Finished. With this I close another chapter, a chapter of temporal happiness, fleeting smiles, deep sincerity, powerful misunderstandings and abject sadness. Like the others before it, it is a chapter which has left an indelible mark on my heart. I hope one day someone else would be the answer that you've been looking for. I hope he bears the same sincerity I tried to show you. I hope his feelings speak from his heart, just like mine did. I hope by then, you would be free from the restrictive shackles of your past, and perhaps run to embrace the present and future with full vigour. Like how I wanted you to.

One day.

2010-04-04T00:02:00.003+08:00

His unseeing eyes stared forward, unyielding. He was tired. He wanted to sit. To rest. Rejuvenate his aching joints and muscles. He wanted a drink. He wanted to be somewhere else. He wanted to be with somebody else.

Truth was he had no idea what he wanted. He was fucked-up like that. Always somewhat indecisive in nature. Always had that bit of cosmic hesitance in his bloodstream. Couldn't seem to figure things out right. Always had been.

"Hey."

The girl in front of him waved her hand in front of his face, trying to catch his attention. One of his closest friends, yet today she seemed like a stranger. They had barely said 2 words when they had met earlier.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

"Yeah, well."

He waved her off. She shrugged and continue with her shopping.

The music in the store was annoying the hell out of him. So he went outside to try and clear his thoughts.

He sat down on one of the plastic benches that dotted the vast shopping mall and rubbed his face.

What did he want?

I don't know.

A couple sauntered by. He tried not to notice them.

He'd enough of being wistful. Of wishing for things he couldn't have. Of trying so hard and always being shot down.

What was that line he heard from a movie? "I said I loved her, and she shot me." Or something. Irony. A hallmark of his life.

Afraid to fall in love. Was that what she had told him?

He sighed.

"Let's go mate!"

"Where?"

She looked at him. "I don't know. Ikea perhaps."

He left the shopping centre not feeling too happy about anything.

He felt like a stranger among his own friends.

"Who can I trust now?" he asked himself.

He heard the question echo around his consciousness.
There was no answer.

2010-04-03T00:19:00.002+08:00

Perhaps all this indecision would really be the cause of my demise one day.

I was close, this close, to have been having one hell of a nervous breakdown right there in front of you.

But did you get the hint? I don't know really. A part of me hopes you did. Another prays you didn't.

Woe is me.

2010-03-31T00:30:00.002+08:00

I had a good day.

A little harried perhaps. Maybe a trifle bit of a hassle too. But that's mom. That's life.

Getting to meet you just made up for everything somehow. Even though it was for a few short hours.

It was good. Really.

2010-03-28T22:48:00.001+08:00

One disappointment after another.

Just trying to be stoic, passive.

2010-03-27T15:58:00.001+08:00

Many happy returns brother.

Hope I'll get to see you more than once a month in the forseeable future.

2010-03-26T19:22:00.002+08:00

So do you want me to come clean? Or do you still want to continue the deluded direction you've been taking with your life so far?

You know what, forgive me for sounding harsh. I can be a patient guy, but with you, really, even the Pope would blow a fuse and start cursing in German while preaching at the Vatican. Mother Theresa would have wrung your little neck.

I don't what you want to do. I don't know what you want me to do. I don't know what everyone wants to do.

Reconcile.

2010-03-24T17:52:00.001+08:00

Would I be lying to myself, if I said I understood you completely?

Could you answer that question for me?

Didn't think so.

2010-03-19T16:29:00.004+08:00

Tell me again,

why I exist?

2010-03-18T23:04:00.004+08:00

Taking little baby steps with each part of my life right now.

Nice and easy. Slow and steady.

I resemble a chimney now. Great. Keep the faith. Puff hard.

It's fucking annoying when I keep having this urge to sneeze and then it just aborts itself at the last fucking minute.

Oh if you've been wondering what I've been up to lately,

Clubs, sex, drugs and alcohol. Ho ho ho.
3 whole nights of it.

No. Really.

Yeap that's me. Living the life of the party.

Yup.

And come to think of it, NOW I know where I got most of my internal genes from. The volatile, emotive, highly-sensitized genes. The genes that shape my emotions. The genes that defined my life.

Mom.

2010-03-16T15:18:00.003+08:00

I am completely letting myself go.

Flying high...

2010-03-11T23:33:00.005+08:00

Walking through Orchard Road, never could I have thought how painful it would be.

I don't know why, how everything just seemed to remind me of you. It sounds silly yes, but it just did. Maybe it's how you always seem to be here, somewhere. Or watching you walk beside me. Or maybe it's just me. Me, like how everything else is.

My tired feet just trudged along, step after step in a seemingly endless journey through space and time. I try my best not to notice my surroundings; to simply zone everything out, but it was useless. A flurry of checkered shirts swim through my vision, although my eyes begin to blur it is no use. I still see you, everywhere.

Flustered, I stop for a smoke. I badly wanted to distract myself. It's not supposed to be like this. It never should be. So why?

As I look down and flicked my lighter, something in front appears and stops me cold; a pair of feet in denim shorts, and black court shoes.

Those shoes.

The stranger walks away. I just sit there, cigarette forgotten, lost in thought.

I don't even know why I'm writing this. Like the pathetic fool I am.

I'm so tired of feeling anymore. I need something, something to make me numb.

2010-03-09T00:02:00.001+08:00

Dear Husrin,

Well. 20. That big milestone. That part of your life where you look back and finally say goodbye to your teenage years. Your most carefree years. Your most fun, enjoyable, laidback and emotional years. All gone now and they're not coming back. You and I know that.

So let's take stock. Two long decades on this Earth has seen many changes occur in you. Some minor, others drastic. Many people have come and go in your life, some pleasant, many others you'd wish to forget. But then again, there are others whom you so desperately want to stay with you, but you have no idea how you can convince them. To convey to them the message; countless things left unsaid. And you've grown sick and tried of trying and being stupid and being a messed-up fuckface to everyone. You just want out. Don't you? When all you've managed to do is royally fuck your life up?

Many things sure have happened in the space of a year. Really. You lost friends. Gained new ones. Learned many lessons. Something as easy as getting along with your best friend seems to have become nothing short of a herculean task for you. And he still hasn't got it yet. Or maybe it's you. I don't know Husrin. You've got to find that out yourself.

You seek love but don't know how to find it. And when you think you did, it comes up to you and punches you in the face so hard, you lose more than your teeth, you lose trust. You lose friends. But yet through all that shit you gained something. You gained valuable lessons. You realised that a pretty face can equate to the blackest heart you can ever imagine. One who pits the people you trust against you. One who thinks with the guile of a Mob boss. One who finds your friendship expendable.

You learned that being an optimistic shithead simply doesn't pay, that constantly setting yourself up for false hope does you a fat lot of good. Last year was a complete cock-up for you. Being 19 sure had its fair share of crap, but in many ways, it was a bearable year for you too. You met new friends. New hopes. And new dreams. You finally felt that maybe, it could work out for you after all.

But that was your fucking optimism talking. And when the shit hit the fan, the optimism left, not before putting a gun to your head with reality inside and pulling the trigger.

You let the past haunt you yet again. You let your once-forgotten paranoia bubble up to the surface once more, letting it control and influence you, letting it seize your fear and frost over your feelings, to the point where everything simply ran cold.

But.

You met someone new, someone fantastic. Someone beautiful in many ways. Not only physically, but mentally. Something about her just attracted you. But there was a catch.

She was a troubled soul. She was confused, scared, constantly tormented by her inner demons. She needed help; someone to talk to. Someone who would listen to her, who would understand her. Feel what she feels. To listen but not to judge. You had been there before. You knew what it was like.

So you listened. You gave her some healing words, some calming advice. But once wasn't enough. You wanted to meet her again. To see her. Talk to her. Pester her to tell you what's wrong. She was so secretive like that. And then you started asking yourself why? Why do I want to see her again? And yet the answer was so obvious Husrin. So obvious.

Without knowing it, you'd already fallen for her.

You found yourself being curious about how she was feeling, every day. You found yourself beginning to care more and more. You found yourself looking out for her. You found yourself looking forward to her company. To seeing her again. Talking, laughing, just being with her. You were biding your time.

And then it had to happen.

Fate has its way of fucking your life up, time and time again, aye Husrin?

I'm not going to recount what happened again for your sake, alright mate. Really. You know I know.

But to you, it was history repeating itself all over again. The experience was unbearable and bitter, even thinking about it now gives you this sinking feeling in your chest. Why? Why did all this have to happen? You kept asking yourself that. You might as well have been talking to the wall for all the answers that you're getting.

Sometimes you want to ask your friends for help, but while some won't reply SMSes half the time and when they do they'll be busy with Priority Ones, the others would be someplace else getting into compromising situations without even being aware that they are until it's too late. In some ways you feel taken for granted, but you tell yourself you don't want to give a fuck anymore. Once again Husrin, maybe the crux of the problem lies in you. Just like it has been for the past 19 years.

You know what Husrin, it's your birthday. You're 20 now. Maybe it's time you sign yourself a nice, big fat reality check. Maybe you're just not cut out for this after all. Maybe your friends and family are just sick and tired of your emotional tirades and bullshit. Maybe she is too. Maybe that's how you're gonna fuck-up the rest of your life.

I know you're tired of being negative. I know you crave for something better. Who doesn't? But your willingness is already wavering. After finding out the rather bitter truth, you have no more hope, of even remotely achieving whatever it is you wanted to.

But that small part of you still asks; why?

And it is a question that will always ring hollow.

Till next year mate. Try staying alive yeah?

With my warmest regards Husrin,

Happy Birthday, and many happy returns.

Forever yours,

Husrin.

2010-03-07T12:54:00.005+08:00

I fucked-up again, didn't I?

Did you honestly believe, that I'm some kind of stalker? That I was stalking you?

I might be wrong.. but,

Sometimes I feel like killing my hyper-sensitive self, but that would involve everything about me. Everything.

I could be wrong about this of course, but the signs are hard to ignore. And they're staring at me blatantly in the face. I really didn't think you'd see me in this way. And you know what? It hurts. Of course it does. But I guess I did something wrong somewhere. People just don't think like that for no reason.

Fuck this. Every single day that progresses in this month, this year, gives me more crap with one hard one to the face.

My birthday's in 2 days. I already asked Pop if I can stay over with Mama the night before. Fuck this neighbourhood. Fuck this part of the island.

It hurts so much but ah, maybe somehow the immunity from the past will shield any lasting scars that might develop.

I'm sorry. For everything.

Words can't describe how incredibly stupid I feel. Just staring at those words over and over again, slowly killing a part of me. And it comes to the point where I just close it. Close the page.

Click. Gone.

If only things were that simple huh. Just like closing a page effortlessly. With a click.

My intentions were good. I'm sure you would've known that. I never meant any harm. I was trying to finally explain to you. Like I promised.

I don't know what made you think this way.

It was meant to be something positive. But like how I am, everything just unravelled.

Fuck myself.

2010-03-03T22:38:00.004+08:00

I guess it's pretty true when they say good things always happen in movies.

Maybe there's a fine line between hoping too much for something and finding out that the hope's actually false altogether. Just this thin line. A line which I've crossed so many times I've lost count.

Dear John just now made me think alot. Watching it in solitude helped.

The film made me realise a few things. How I take my parents for granted, many times. How fragile life actually is. How it seems, no matter how fucked-up a situation is, or how stupid it might be, there's always a hidden meaning in there somewhere; a form of concealed justification. A hard life lesson, but a lesson nevertheless.

A friend once told me how it seems times have changed for people. How women out there are more independent, more self-assertive and seemingly less emotionally reliant on the opposite sex. How women have it easy when handling emotions because there's always a group of like-minded female friends that they can relate to and confide in. Unlike most guys, who often can't seem to take any conversation seriously for more than five minutes. So it seems that it's difficult for men to fully express what their feeling and confide in any of their male friends at all.

And that's why we always hide our feelings. Because we struggle almost every time, to make ourselves honest and clear. To make ourselves felt.

Although many think we guys are the tough, emotionally strong figures you envision us to be, you might as well compare us to cardboard cut-outs on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

We're weak, inside, because alone we aren't complete. We never are.

We're weak in so many ways because, deep down, we need that someone, someone who'll fit into place and complete us. Someone who'll fully understand us, emotionally. Someone who'll take us seriously, every day. Someone who'll love us, in a way we've never known or felt before.

Sitting alone just now, in the movie theatre, I caught myself staring at the vacant seat beside me, and wondering. Just wondering. About the little hollow feeling I had in my consciousness. The tears I shed at the film's climax. How the stranger behind even offered me a tissue.

I'll be 20 next week. Two decades on this Earth.

I do miss you, Vernie Tay.

I really do.

2010-03-02T23:15:00.002+08:00

Just have patience la Husrin.

Just have patience.

Apparently I shouldn't be having a working life at all. If everything that's been told to me just doesn't process and come together in my head.

Good going huh, March.

Kumar's sold out. Departure times on most budget carriers are fucking stupid. Now the whole idea is being dropped altogether. FUCK. I need that damn holiday. I need to get away from this mess for awhile. Fuck everything's a mess. Everything.

I need some time alone. In a foreign land. Seriously.

Now you say you have reservations about going for the trip. Well I'm really sorry if I seem to remind you of him half the time. What can I do mate?

And what's with the part about "rather go on a trip with the girls at the end of the year with $350 and where I can surely enjoy myself.."

Now how am I supposed to feel when you said that.

Ah well, the whole thing's called off anyway. Hope that makes you feel better huh.

You know what? Maybe I should just book a chalet or hotel room or something and sleep there the night before my birthday. Seriously. The way this month is going, I have no mood at all for cake on my face in the morning. I should just be glad I'm still breathing.

Or maybe, if you're okay with it, I could meet you. Just you. I'd buy a couple of muffins or something, stick candles on them. Maybe I'd get you to wear a party hat. We would whisper a birthday song because we're embarrassed to let the public listen, we could talk all night, while my old neighbourhood sleeps, breathing in the first few hours of being 20.

I'd love that. Really. Would you?

And at the same time, I'd love a million dollars and a new car.

2010-02-28T12:54:00.008+08:00

Maybe there's hardly any point after all.

What was that you said? That being happy is a choice? Yeah well you can take that choice and royally stuff it up your ass. This isn't about making choices anymore. This isn't about trying to choose. Because there is no benefit in trying to choose something which isn't there, which constantly eludes you in the first place.

Or when whatever it is I seek simply recoils from my very touch. How the fuck do you expect me to make that choice, to be fucking happy?

How naïve of you to think that making a choice like this is as simple as choosing an apple from a supermarket. Perhaps you didn't take into consideration some intangible circumstances around you, or some other fucked-up scenario that you couldn't possibly envisage. How could you anyway? With everything as solid as dinner every night on a plate, making a choice to be happy sure can be fucking easy mate!

So you can throw your happiness in decision-making out the bloody window. No I'm not bitter. I'm just being a tad realistic here. Fuckwit.

Ah fuck la. I should never, ever have fucking bothered in the first place. I let my realist self become an optimist for awhile and look where that got me. A fat lot of good this does to the world. Fuckwit.

Now everything's falling to pieces. Again. Besides myself I also have you to thank. For being fucking misguided. For being overly optimistic. For being the person that I never did recognize in the mirror. Thank you.

Now fuck off.

2010-02-25T23:06:00.001+08:00

Self-degradation.

Self-recovery.

Self-acceptance.

2010-02-25T13:47:00.003+08:00

"And you do know what else you can do, son."

"What's that."

"Just move on la."

Just move on la.

Sure seems bloody simple doesn't it?

You know what, I don't even want to be bitter. I'm not trying to be upset. I'm not trying to blame anyone or anything. After all, it's all my fucking fault somehow isn't it?

Ah fuck la. You're thinking, here I am ranting and raving again like nobody's fucking business. You're reading the words on the screen, snickering to yourself at my self-pity.

Why? Why? Why does everything seem so impossible with you? Why can't I read you? Why do you seem to make everything so hard?

I'M FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF THIS.

Please God, give me the strength to endure. Just endure. Please.

When civilisation collapses and your friends are gone, you've only got your soul.

And your shadow for company.

Just sitting here, watching daylight streaming through the curtains, alone.. it's okay. It's okay..

2010-02-24T00:00:00.000+08:00

As you know, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono is the current president of the Republic of Indonesia.

So,

Happy birthday.

You're 19.

Make sure you'll still be a virgin when you finally get your ass up onto that wedding dais, got me?

And cut down on the drinking la bitch.

In one ear, out the other one lah.

Cb.

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please take good care of yourself okay M.

We try and we try, but we can't possible look out for you all the time mate.

And we love you, that's why we care. Care. Careeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

So watch those fragile heartstrings of yours. Very easy to pull la I can see. Dangerous.

May God bless you with good health(relatively) and sound mind(right) okay.

So, my dearest Marlina Khairudin, many happy returns. Here's to hoping I'll still see you 19 years later. With current happenings, I'm really praying for that.

With lots of love, have a great 19th birthday.

Sayang M.

2010-02-23T17:44:00.002+08:00

You're incredibly unreadable, do you know that?

I badly need to know, how you're feeling, what you're thinking, so I can act accordingly.

But ease was something I didn't even expect out of this.

But then again, I guess God did this to teach me to use my intuition.

And my intuition says to do it. Let's go.

Thing is, do you want to see me?

Do you?

2010-02-23T08:35:00.001+08:00

I'm stuck.

How do I go from here? Ask you again? Or attempt to surprise you like before?

That old habit is coming back. That small little fear. Of rejection. Of your reaction. It's bringing me down.

Things were never meant to be easy huh.

2010-02-19T02:40:00.002+08:00

Just now was completely unnecessary.

But what else could I do? What else.

That night, I made my decision.

There would be no turning back. No more stalling.

I told you before, what I would do once I got that bicycle, and I intended to keep my word.

I set off from my block, furtively pedaling along the pathways of Tampines, feeling the breeze caress my face.

I was nervous. Scared. Yet a small part of me felt excited.

I reached the road that led to Changi General. That all-too familiar road, a road my dad once drove on frequently to go home. My old home.

It was an uphill climb, and once I reached the flyover I was perspiring. But I pushed on. You were on my mind. I really wanted to see you. After so long. To talk to you.

To explain.

After what seemed like a million miles I finally reached the crossing that led into my old neighbourhood. The one that still feels like home. Where we surprised each other by finding out we were literally neighbours. Where everything was so convenient for me.

I cycled slowly, taking my time. I pass the school. I pass the ubiquitous shopping mall that's been the neighbourhood's landmark for God knows how long.

I stop there, and decided to text you. Were you home?

Apparently, not that night.

I remember how disappointed I felt somehow. I guess it was my mistake, not informing you earlier or something. It was meant to be a surprise; to ask you to look out your window and see me. Like how I asked you.

Aimlessly I decided to wander around my old stomping ground, perhaps to savour the old memories. And it's just as well, the florist at the basement was closed.

Perhaps, I thought to myself, I could wait till you got back. It seems stupid now, come to think of it, but well, at that point in time I didn't know what else I could do.

But you weren't sure what time you would return home either.

That was when I felt that maybe I was being really silly somehow. I don't know. Horrible timing I guess. You didn't seem too happy; maybe I caught you at a bad time. I'm sorry.

So I left the mall and cycled back to where my old house was. Everything had changed. A sheltered walkway is what has become of the construction site that was facing my front door. A Chinese family resides there now. I went to the letterbox and collected the old mail with my dad's key. I felt a little tired and sad. I needed a smoke.

I pedaled over to the block opposite yours, the one with a solitary iron bench against a pillar, where I used to sneak away for a puff. I sat there and glanced up at your window. It's dark. Or maybe I was looking at the wrong one. Maybe.

I light up, feeling the memories wash over me. I miss this place. I really do. Everything that made me feel good about my life has been here. In some ways, I still do regret the move.

I was half-hoping you would suddenly appear, perhaps back from wherever you were from. But it was just wishful thinking.

I listened to a cacophony of noises; the clatter of mahjong tiles and the hum of passing cars, the chatter of passers-by.. I leaned back and watched smoke drift into the night air, like how it always did half a year ago.

I recall the night I sent you home. When you showed me where your window was. When I balked when you told me you took the stairs every time.

Sighing, I ground out the butt and mounted my bicycle. I cycled past your window for a final time, looking up wistfully, and with a heavy heart, turned and started the inexorably long journey for my other home. Another place, another time.

2010-02-15T16:47:00.003+08:00

You know,

I really hope I do remember where your window is.

Hope you'll be home.

2010-02-10T18:31:00.002+08:00

There are times which make me remember. Those times that make me realise many things.

I walked to the MRT from school today. Just trudging along, like how I've been doing it for the past year. I felt the warm sun on my skin, feel its piercing rays on my shoulders, squint against its incredible luminance. And for a moment there I realise something. Today of all days, I realise how the good the warmth feels, how beautiful the yellow rays were. How it was something I seem to have taken for granted day after day.

Is that how it is? Is that how it always should be? Why?

We wake up everyday, early in the morning, seemingly with a purpose. We rush to shower and bathe and get ready, we rush to make ourselves presentable, we rush to be punctual, to get good grades, to fulfill deadlines, to impress. We rush to make plans, rush to achieve things. But amid all this, we mostly do not realise what the purpose is. What we're waking up each day for. What we live for. We're so intent on pleasing the whims of other people we don't seem to get to stop and think for just a second, about how it is our lives we're living, our destinies we're shaping. We struggle to achieve things which would only have a temporary effect on us, yet we simply plough on like there's no tomorrow.

Perhaps there's an element of truth in that. Of there being no tomorrow.

We hardly, if never, stop. At least for a moment. Stop to catch our breath. That proverbial saying? Stop and smell the roses. Take a deep breath. Stop to feel the water on your feet at the beach. Stop to feel the sun's warmth on your face, how beautiful it actually seems. When you're not rushing around to appointments, parties, outings, friends. When you're not trying to get drunk or hopelessly intoxicated somewhere. When sometimes it seems like all a person wants is to get laid. Where sometimes something as seemingly impossible as making the right choices go right under our noses and we never know it.

I won't be a hypocrite. I know I make the wrong choices too. But I don't want the choices I make to affect those around me. Those I hold dear. I don't want the choices I make to reflect on other people, first and foremost my parents. I want them to know they have brought me up well, they have brought me up with the best of their abilities, with their love and nothing in this world could ever repay them for what they have done for me in all 20 years of my life. I don't want my choices to affect my friendships, my perspectives. Through it all, I don't want my choices to change the way I am, the way I've always been. My best friends would testify to that. Thank God for them.

I want you to realise that there is no need for you to wear a mask, build up walls around yourself, to hide the real you. At the end of the day you would have gone nowhere, purpose unfulfilled, dreams unrealised. I want you to be aware that I'm always here, and what you've seen in me is the real deal, the Husrin that's been inside, struggling to be free. I want you to realise that the only reason for him to finally find himself is none other than you, and that the words I say don't do justice to how I feel right now, how confused I am right now, how this feeling just wouldn't go away.

After months of heart-ache, he's tired. Weary. He wants out. He wants to move on. He wants to be happy. He wants to make that choice, this choice. The one that seems impossible to make. The one that keeps him awake every night while I sleep. He wants you to know, he'll never, ever walk away. He's been through too much; all he wants now is to wipe his slate clean and start afresh. A new decade. A new horizon. He wants to understand you. He wants to be there for you. He wants me to tell you all this personally, when the time is right. He wants me to finally explain to you, everything. He wants me to stop hesitating anymore, to stop being scared anymore, to just stop and start living life as it is. To take everything as it should be. To stop avoiding the inavoidable. He wants me to scale your walls, break down your defences, find the real you. He wants to be someone you'd understand, someone you'd accept, someone you'd never doubt for a second. Someone you'd be truly happy with.

The choices we make. How many out there still fail to realise how big the ramifications of each choice is, whether in the next 10 hours or 10 years. But for me, it has to stop now. This choice I make, I know I will not regret, and with all my heart, I do hope that it is a choice you wouldn't regret too. I promise.

I walked home from the bus-stop today. Just trudging along, like how I've been doing it for the past year. I felt the warm sun on my skin..

2010-02-05T14:37:00.004+08:00

Well I did it, again. Turning my friends away; making them despise me without much thought. Now you're not talking to me. What a sad turn of events.

It seems there's nothing much I can do about this. Nothing. I guess I'm pretty much doomed to live out my life this way. I really don't know who's next now. M perhaps. Or Aiman. Or even Miskoon. If I lose any of them, then that's it. Really. Fuck it. Fuck my life.

You guys understand me so much. I don't want to lose anymore of you. I'm beyond tired. Tired of this crap.

I'm lost.

I remember how sad you were, when I told you I was moving. How sad I was too. How frustrated I was that I was losing another chance, another opportunity to get to know someone like you. How I wanted to get a bicycle just so I could cycle down that long road that separates me from you, when before, all that did was just a stone's throw.

I'll have you know; I miss you. I miss walking down that long path with you towards the MRT. I miss watching you walk ahead of me while I struggled to catch up. I miss your smile, your funny way of speaking sometimes, your gestures. I miss talking to you on MSN; guessing the food in your fridge. I miss you and your trademarked checkered clothes, your court shoes/flats, your backpack. I miss how you wouldn't want to speak while watching a movie; you taught me to enjoy the movie more.

I remember how I struggled to find something to talk about when we went out. How afraid I was at those silent pauses. But my fear had been unfounded. It was never awkward. Like how someone I once knew would say; the silence was what she enjoyed the most. I miss those times, no matter how brief.

I had no idea why you suddenly seemed to change. You developed this cold shoulder which I could never figure out. Was it me? Something I did? There are times I sigh to myself these questions, but they bear no answers. I don't know what happened. How unhappy you seemed to be that day when we partialed; when it seemed I was following behind you the whole time, barely talking, and before I knew it you were past the MRT fare-gates and gone just like that. I could only stand there.

Or the day I thought of walking back with you; how you came with the rest, how frustrated you seemed about something. How it ended up to be another futile exercise; you simply walked ahead of me and I felt too disenchanted to catch up. I guess you needed some time alone. And lo and behold, you were gone.

I don't know what had been bugging you on those days. Him still? Well I'd understand, it's never easy to simply forget something that's been imprinted on your heart. Your results? Friends? School? Me? I really don't know. But surely you could've talked to me about it. Anything at all. Tell me. I'll always be there to listen.

I don't know what else to say. I guess it must've been my fault after all. Maybe it was me; my brashness, the way I carry myself.. God knows. If that's true, then I'm sorry. If you're with someone now, he's a lucky guy. Yeah he is. All my best wishes and God bless.

And I just want you to know something,

I have that bicycle.

2010-02-01T14:58:00.002+08:00

There's some things we don't talk about;
rather do without.
And just hold the smile.
Falling in and out of love,
Ashamed and proud of,
Together all the while.

You can never say never,
Why we dont know when,
Time and time again.
Younger now than we were before..

Picture you're the queen of everything;
As far as the eye can see.
Under your command.
I will be your guardian,
When all is crumbling,
Steady your hand.

We're pulling apart and coming together again and again,

We're growing apart but we pull it together, pull it together, together again..

Don't let me go.
Don't let me go.
Don't let me go..

Don't let me go.

Don't ever let me go.

2010-01-29T14:30:00.004+08:00

I see you from a distance. I watch the way you move; trying to read you. I try to guess what you're thinking. How you're feeling. I want to know, but you're shutting me out. Somehow. And you don't seem to realise it.

I want to break down the walls; the barriers that separate us. I want to reach across this great gulf to you. To hold you. To comfort you. Talk to you; bare my soul. I want to smile with you, laugh and cry with you. I want you to realise that I'm tired of everything. Tired to try anymore. Tired to feel anymore. I want you to realise that my feelings are sincere; like it has always been, and how it seems everyone casts it aside without much thought.

I want to understand you. I want to deserve a second chance. I want to feel again, to smile and laugh again without having to force myself; without having to make an effort to be farcical anyway, like how I've been for the longest time.

I want you to notice me. I want you to understand me, bear with me, be with me. I want you not to be scared of me.

I want you to like me.

2010-01-24T21:52:00.002+08:00

I saw quite a few checkered shirts and court shoes on the train today.

And it made me wonder.

2010-01-19T22:22:00.003+08:00

Everyone wants a piece of you.

Thing is, do you know which piece they actually wanna grab?

We'll watch you, in the shadows, always vigilant.

Be careful. You can't trust some people. Not even yourself unfortunately.

2010-01-16T23:14:00.002+08:00

...

You can never know,
when another goodbye comes.

They’re there one day,
gone the next.

Taken away by life.
Eroded away by time.

Frozen pictures,
all that’s left.
Living movies in your memories.

Loss has come to you.
Do you now know how I feel?
A living wraith,
all made up of memories.

Frozen pictures,
each a door and key,
to my world of waking dreams.
Now all that was here, is gone.

2010-01-13T22:21:00.006+08:00

A friend posted this interesting and very meaningful article on Facebook. Thought I'd share.

What Happened to All the Nice Guys?

I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, or lamented about among your bosom friends, so I thought I’d take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven’t figured it out.

What happened to all the nice guys?

The answer is simple: you did.

See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were seeing/fucking treated you.

At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.

Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you weren't dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”

Well, once again, you did.

You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry.

He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.

Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.

So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
1.) Build a time machine.

2.) Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.

3.) Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab a hold of it.

I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.

If you were a few years younger.

So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you’ve fucked yourself over. You’re getting older, after all. It’s time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn’t want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn’t fucking want you, now.

Sincerely,
A Recovering Nice Guy.

It nearly drove me to tears.

2010-01-13T00:15:00.001+08:00

I'll be where you are, in every step of the way; far enough for you to miss me, and close enough for you to feel me.

Remember me.

2010-01-11T08:49:00.004+08:00

As they yearn to be understood, and struggle to pull themselves out of the precipice that slowly pulls them in, he sits alone, like a solitary guardian, extending his hand. Slowly listening, always understanding,
never to judge.

2010-01-06T08:52:00.004+08:00

There's a million reasons for you to go.

But if you can find a reason to stay.

I'm still at a dilemma on whether I should sustain a daily blogging regimen for this year. It's not like everyone reads this shit anyway.

Other than getting one of those website hit counters, I have no idea how else I can keep track of the number of readers.

Ah well. Why the fuck am I even talking about this?

It's week 11 and the class politics are finally bubbling to the surface. Nice. It had to happen, but I guess I'll be thankful it's not happening to me. I hope.

I've been having really weird erotic dreams lately. About the wrong people. It's not been helping my state of mind much.

6th day of 2010.. well not bad, not good. Won't be expecting much. Just trying to maintain the status quo is bad enough.

2010-01-05T13:12:00.002+08:00

Well, it's 2010.

This blog has been in existence for a year and half. Almost.

Not bad.

And I intend to keep it that way. As a record of how I fucked up my life in the period beginning March 2008.

Okay.

School has been good. Everything has been good.

And I'm good at lying.

2010

2009-12-31T20:01:00.001+08:00

Damn the rain.

He felt an odd sensation as a raindrop landed on the tip of his nose. Just like that. It tickled slightly, almost like the light brush of a feather. He wiped it off as he hurriedly trudged along the path, giving worried stares toward the clouds in the night sky.

He could feel the moisture. Smell it in the tang of the evening air. He walked faster.

Just my luck.

He glanced at his watch. A little after 8 pm.

He sighed.

Early evening on New Year's eve. What am I doing.

It seemed everyone else had parties to go to, or family outings, or simply ushering in the new year with close friends. Funny how things always seem to happen to everyone else. Both good and bad.

Close friends huh.

His only good friends, two of them, were somewhere only God knows. One was with his girlfriend of 3 years. Despite himself, he found it impressive. Relationships nowadays don't mean shit to some people. Really. He shook his head at the thought. He suddenly felt bitter.

The other one was in a disco somewhere. Getting high while watching the final minutes of 2009 tick away. Ah well.

He could hear distant rumblings over the horizon; the storm couldn't be far off. Had to rain here today of all days. The cool sea breeze had long ceased, and the air was unusually still. Calm before the storm. The beach held a special place in his heart, with its countless memories.

Well, I guess they don't mean much to people now. Everyone he knew seemed so far away. He was willing to bet the person he spent most of the time with here was probably caught up in her own world somewhere. God knows. He told himself he didn't wanna care. Didn't have to. But he knew it was a lie.

He missed her. He wondered how she was.

Fuck.

He needed a smoke. He needed company. Two things that were intangible for him tonight, of all nights.

He suddenly stopped walking.

Where were you planning to go huh?

Really, where? Escape from the rain. Is that it?

He looked around him. There was hardly anyone in the park. Half the country had either flocked downtown to catch the countdown party, went to get themselves drunk at some club, or were at home. Ah the normalcy of new year's eve. How he yearned for it.

He shook his head, thinking. A little rain won't kill you mate.

No one was expecting him home. Not till tomorrow evening anyway, when everyone returns from Bangkok. He had declined their invitation to come along, citing New Year commitments. Stupid.

He wanted to kick himself.

Pointless regretting now really. They'd left 2 days ago. He couldn't have known.

He felt the intensity of the drizzle go up an octave. Felt the cold raindrops seep through his hair until it tingled his scalp. He rubbed his face.

Only you, yourself and I tonight, buddy. Let's get wet for once.

With a wry smile, he turned and walked back to the bench he had been sitting on. 8.17 pm, New Year's Eve, alone with not a single leaf of tobacco on him. Well old boy, let the party begin.

***

"Happy birthday."

She smiled.

"Thank you! And your present looks interesting. What's inside?"

"Ever heard of a surprise?"

"Tell me. Pleaseee."

He grinned and shook his head.

"Be patient. You can open it at home later with the rest of the presents and find out. Oh and make sure your mom's not around to see. Haha. That's your only clue."

She pouted, but couldn't suppress a smile. "Alright then."

He felt good, oh so good. It was her birthday, and everything was going according to plan. Her present had been incredibly last minute, but had turned out well. It was her favourite pack of cigarettes, but he wasn't about to tell her that.

He liked her. He really did.

But he wasn't about to tell her that either.

He watched the sun set beneath the trees, near the shoreline. The beach was beautiful at this hour. Her favourite haunt. No surprise that she would choose this place for her birthday gathering.

Shit.

He was hanging on to every word she said, every nuance of emotion she displayed, every..

"Hey!!"

He looked behind, almost stunned out of his wits. Could she read his mind?

She smiled. "Eat something."

If only she knew.

***

The drizzle had slowed to a trickle, and he was none the worse for wear. Just a few drops on his shoulders, damp hair. I'll be fine, he thought to himself.

"Excuse me mate. Got a lighter?"

He turned, almost slipping off the bench.

It was a man, perhaps in his 20s, dressed in a polo and blue jeans, looking as if he'd stepped right out of the 1980s. In the near-darkness, he couldn't see how he looked like. He was holding an unlit cigarette in his hand.

"Uh yeah sure. I think I have one." he fumbled in his left pocket and found it. It had been a habit of his to always carry a lighter regardless of whether he had any cigarettes or not. He had no idea why.

"Hey thanks man." the bloke took it from him and lit up, casting an almost eerie glow on his face. He looked Chinese; certainly sounded like it. And he had a much younger appearance. Perhaps just barely 18?

"Think you could spare me a cancer stick man?" he asked tentatively.

The man looked at him for a moment, "Hey sure. Not a problem buddy. Help yourself." he handed him a packet of Lucky Strikes. He accepted it gratefully.

Talk about luck. It was one of his favourite brands, not sold locally.

"Thanks mate."

He fished out a stick and lit up, returning him the packet. He had expected him to leave then, so he was surprised when he said, "It might rain again anytime man. You got an umbrella with you for the cigarette?"

It suddenly occurred to him that the rain would put out the stick faster than he could say, "quit". He laughed.

"You got a point there. Guess I'll just have to smoke faster then."

The man shook his head and smiled. "You won't make it. It's still drizzling as it is. Here, I have an umbrella. I guess we'll just share it just in case, while you finish your stick. If you're okay with it I suppose?"

He almost wanted to hug him. Some company was better than none I guess, even for awhile. "I don't mind one single bit mate. You not heading anywhere?"

"Oh I was headed to my girlfriend's barbeque party further down when I felt an itch for some nicotine. I'm sure you'd know how that feels. Heh. Then I realised I didn't have a light with me. Like seriously man." he shrugged sheepishly.

He patted his shoulder, "Ah well, no worries mate. Shit happens. Take a seat."

As if on cue, it started pouring. He managed to get the umbrella opened just in time.

"Your girlfriend uses water based charcoal?"

The man laughed. "Nah. She's having it at a chalet. So I guess they would have a plan B for this. I hope so."

"Haha. Sounds jolly man."

So there they sat on the bench, huddled underneath the umbrella with glowing cigarettes between their fingers, talking of inconsequential things. He learned that he was actually 19, was studying in a JC, met his girlfriend last year; been together for about 7 months or so, stayed in Bedok, started smoking when he was 16.. and so on and so forth. It was a good conversation, and sure beats being alone, he thought to himself.

"Wow man. Been talking about myself too much. How bout yours?"

He shrugged. "Well.. it is abit of a long story."

The man held up his cigarette. "We got time mate."

So he told him everything about his life. His parents' divorce, school, friends, family politics, new friendships, broken friendships, failed relationships.. he felt better all of a sudden, sharing all of this with someone he barely knew. He told him about 2009, how optimistic he had been, how some things just didn't work out the way they were supposed to. How as a whole, '09 had been transitional at best, perhaps a prelude to better things, or worse.

The man said nothing for awhile, nodding his head. The rain continued to fall around them, splashing onto puddles and dried leaves. He could just barely make out the lights of ships on the horizon.

"Tough year for you huh?"

"Sure was tougher than I thought."

He punched his shoulder. "Nah, heads up man. Really. Sometimes you have to see things from radical perspectives. Not just the usual black and white, you know? Try seeing it in gray, or blue or whatever colour you feel doesn't fit the spectrum of your current emotions."

He thought this made sense.

The man took a final drag out of his cigarette and looked at his watch.

"Aw jeez I'm running late. You done with your fag mate?"

He took a last, deep puff from it. "Yeah mate. Thanks."

"Not a problem. But hey, you're gonna be alright without the umbrella man?"

He nodded. "I'll be fine thanks. Really. I enjoy the rain."

"You can come along if you want."

He toyed with the idea for awhile, but declined. "I'll probably be going off soon. But thanks for the offer yeah. And the stick. Really needed it."

The man laughed. "Alright man. Take care of yourself. Last call for the umbrella.."

He waved him off. The man laughed as they shook hands and he set off. He watched his receding figure among the falling rain and the dim pools of light from the lampposts.

He looked at his watch.

"9.10 pm, New Year's eve." he said to no one in particular.

***

"I'm sorry on their behalf. On hers. I really am."

He said nothing.

"I couldn't keep it inside me anymore. I'm not like them. I can't just breeze through life with the weight of secrets on my conscience. Call me weird. Call me silly. I think it's normal for me. I think it's wrong to have to do this. Playing 2 sides. It's just not me."

He flicked the dying fag away as he exhaled the last of the cigarette. He brushed his fingers through his hair.

"It's not your fault."

"But.." she trailed off.

He turned to face her, "What they did, she did, okay, wasn't your idea. It wasn't your fault. Look despite these overwhelming circumstances, I trust you, alot. Hell you're the only one I can trust now, besides him." he gestured toward the block of flats where his other friend lived. "Look, I don't want you to feel guilty, simply because you're the messenger. That's bullshit. I should thank you for telling me all this and bringing it to the light of day. As it is I don't know how I'm supposed to feel right now." he was agitated now, pacing around the stone tables at the void deck.

"I've been living in the dark for so long. Too long, my God. I never would've thought.." he trailed off.

He buried his face in his hands. "So tired. So fucking tired. And confused. What does friendship stand for now? What does everything stand for now huh?"

She stared at him, guilt-ridden for having even hidden everything from him. The truth. The lies. Deceit hounding him at every turn, and he had been blissfully unaware.

Until now.

He never thought she would've been capable. Capable of such a thing. Implicating friends. It was a major stab-in-the-back for him. He suddenly felt sick. He wanted to throw up.

Fuck this.

"I'm sorry." she said again, as if the words would erase the pain in his heart like autumn leaves on a windy day.

He said nothing. Lighting a cigarette, he took an extremely deep drag and watched traffic pass by on the main road outside, lost in thought.

"How could you." he mumbled softly.

***

He had read it so many times he could memorise every sentence.

The flickering screen stared back at him, giving a haunting glow to the darkness of his room.

Remember us talking on MSN every night until your dad would come in and make you turn off the computer?
Remember how you kept telling me I was going to be okay after he and I broke up? You were right.
Remember that blogpost where you put a picture of a goat and said it was me? Tsk.
Remember me telling you that you were like my diary, cos you were always there to listen and not judge?

He wanted to cry. He remembered. Every single answer to the questions. Memories of times lost through his fingers like sand, irretrievable. How could all this have happened? Wasn't 2009 supposed to be my year? Wasn't it? Why God?

Why?

At half-past two in the morning, all alone, he sobbed. Regret burning through him like a fuse which refused to die. If there was one thing I could tell you right now, it's that I remember.

I'll always remember.

***

The rain had stopped about 10 minutes ago. Soaking wet, he glanced at his watch. Quarter to twelve. Fifteen minutes to the first decade of the 21st century.

A fat lot of good that does for me.

He shook his head, resigned.

He felt cold, but it didn't bother him. He felt his shirt stick to his back. He felt his beating heart, his wet skin.

He felt alive.

A group of revellers had gathered nearby on the beach, singing loudly, laughing, talking among themselves. A few appeared to be drunk. Ah well, there goes the neighbourhood, he thought to himself. They never noticed him; some were busy trying to start a bonfire.

He was tired. Tired of hoping anymore. Tired of being anymore optimistic that he had ever been. Tired of asking himself what 2010 might bring. Because he knew things would never go the way he would want them to. He knew that somewhere, somehow, it was all written down, scripted out. Whatever it was. He sighed.

A thunderclap reverberated through the surroundings and without warning, a deluge of rain began pouring once more. The group started screaming and shouting and laughing, jumping about. They abandoned their bonfire project and some ran to the sea to have a dip. Despite himself, he smiled.

The bitterness in his heart. Oh God, let the rain wash it away. Grant me the serenity to see through this new year, this life. Whatever it is you want me to face, good or bad, help me through them. Give me the strength.

"5 minutes!!!!!" the group screamed.

All of a sudden, he cried. Just buried his face in his hands and cried. He had always been an emotional person. He felt the rainwater soak him and cleanse him, both inside and out. He felt his wet hair stick to his forehead. He felt his solitude strengthen his resolve. I can face this.

With a renewed energy, he got up and ran. Ran past the boisterous group and into the sea, feeling the water cover him. It felt surprisingly warm. He knew the phone in his pocket was beyond repair now and he didn't care. He dove under and resurfaced, feeling invigorated, feeling everything just wash away into the vast sea.

"IT'S THE COUNTDOWN. HAHAA. QUICK QUICK! 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.." they shouted.

All alone in the sea, he said a silent prayer. He breathed in the first few seconds of 2010 and felt the bitterness and pain in his heart dissipate like mist on a clear day.

2009-12-28T20:37:00.002+08:00

It's what's on the inside that counts. Real tobacco taste, and plenty of it.
Tobacco is our passion and a great smoke is our promise.

It's Luckies. Enjoy.

2009-12-24T20:19:00.003+08:00

I'd like to wish all my Christian/Catholic/Mormon/Lutheran/Anglican/Protestant/Amish friends a Merry Christmas.

Although I could've sworn Jesus was born in March..

2009-12-22T16:26:00.003+08:00

I can't seem to recall much.

My head is undergoing this series of dull throbs that seem intent on ceasing any brain function within my skull.

I can only recall fragments of otah, some chicken wing, poker chips, lots of poker chips, cigarettes, some Indian guy I was playing with.. wait was that Murali? A Gilera, Shengnan was gorgeous last night.. the Ace of spades, more poker chips..

Wow.

I love my class. I love W36A. Let's organise another one. C'mon guys.

Now where the fuck is my underwear..

2009-12-19T22:56:00.001+08:00

You don't know me, you don't even care.
Oh yeah.

She said; you don't know me, you don't wear my chains.

Oh yeah,

yeah.

2009-12-18T23:54:00.003+08:00

I have this sudden urge to get myself a Harley.

Yeah those big, bad, growling monsters they sell as "motorcycles". WOO. Testosterone rush fuck it. Love the growl of the engine.

Class 2 license though. Fuck.

Ah well. Had loads of fun today. Refer to Aiman's blog for photos and whatever nonsense.

And M, pray for me.

2009-12-16T20:55:00.003+08:00

I've had enough, of this parade.

Shooting tomorrow, crap gotta buy a new pack for the breaks. Is the part I'm playing a smoker? Man that'll be cool.

I'll never get tired of that bench. Of watching the clouds drift over Ubin. Or the memories of conversations once had.

Breathe.

2009-12-14T08:45:00.003+08:00

Ah the conclusion of the year is nigh.

So should I write another story?

It's a pretty subjective question.

I never could've imagined how fast time has flew by this year, really.

It's an ongoing process. The process of discovery. Of learning. Of pain. Of understanding. Of acceptance.

Even Nostradamus couldn't have predicted some of the life-altering events that happened this year. What can I say. 2009 sure seems transitional somewhat. Perhaps a prelude to better things. Or worse. I don't know. I'll never know.

We find pleasure in the unpredictable. In the unknown.

If 2008 was horrendous, then 2009 was miserable at best. It never really turned out the way I thought it would, though of course I'm thankful to have gotten a place in poly. That's more or less good enough. But yeah, it could've been better.

Which reminds me, I haven't been to Pasir Ris park for some time. Hmm been pretty busy. Perhaps sometime this week, with my term break starting, I could once again grab some alone time for myself and reflect on the misplaced optimism of what could've been, and what it never came to be.

2009-12-13T23:07:00.002+08:00

Another day, another minute, another hour.

Here's to seeing another sunrise tomorrow.

Amen.

2009-12-13T16:43:00.000+08:00

I feel like shit right now.

Fuck.

2009-12-13T02:05:00.001+08:00

..............

Ok.

2009-12-13T00:32:00.005+08:00

I think I'll say this now, rather than let the simmering tension inside me boil over and make me do something I'll regret.

I find it hard to comprehend how you can spend seemingly every waking hour with it, how you could say that it's weird when you've been seeing it for 14 days at a stretch and one day off makes it seem strange. Strange. What happened to your friends? Don't they want to see you often too?

Somehow, I find it difficult to understand how you can find nothing else to talk about other than that. Nothing else. I don't want to affect anything here, just trying to put words into consideration and have my say. After all, I've known you forever.

I'm tired of having to wait till the wee hours just to get to meet you momentarily. How you're late because you feel the need to walk to your second home and then back home.

Look I'm happy for you. Really, I am. But when it comes to a point where I hardly get to meet you these days, something's gotta give.

Quit putting school as an excuse. Because as it is I do recall seeing you fairly often last time. Yes, I remember. Hell I even went home with you from school a few times.

I'm not being angry here. Nor do I intend to despise or hurt anyone. It is just my thoughts. My words. My feelings. I don't know how I could let this out other than here. I'm tired. Really. Barely trying to be rational.

Or maybe I'm just delusional. Or stupid. God knows. Yeah you're busy. Okay. Yeah you have a shitload of projects. Okay. I understand. You have a house to do projects right? You use your own two hands to do projects right? You can walk on your own two feet right?

Ah perhaps you can just disregard the bullshit that I just typed here. People reading this might assume that I'm jealous or something. Hell don't get me wrong. I'm not. Like I've said before, I'm happy for the both of you. And I wish you eternal happiness. The whole nine-yards.

I apologize if what I've said here has offended anyone. I'm just being frank. This is just what I feel. Please don't take it to heart. Really.

No hard feelings. Take some time to realize.

2009-12-11T10:43:00.004+08:00

Dreams die in silence and piece by piece you go with them.

2009-12-10T14:54:00.003+08:00

I boarded a bus today.

I felt the cold air-conditioning touch my skin. I felt the bus lurch as more passengers boarded, scrambling for seats. I felt the engine's rumble as the bus moved away from the berth and out the terminus.

I gaze out at the scenery as the bus entered the expressway, joining the endless stream of traffic on their way to the north, drivers looking intently forward, children looking out car windows, school buses and lorries carrying workers, all looking out toward a new day.

The sun shines behind the bus as it cruises along the road. Despite being inside, I feel its heat. I watched the yellow sunlight shine on a passenger's face. She is asleep. Perhaps a student, or a factory worker. With the way she looked, I couldn't tell.

The bus rumbles along, past blocks of flats, rolling hills and thick patches of jungle, a serene looking river.. it all flashes past me, like sunlight shining on dew in a cold morning. I find myself lost in my thoughts, feeling emotions course through my veins. I feel lethargic all of a sudden, a strange feeling of melancholy settles over me. I sigh. Nothing ever seems right.

I close my eyes.

2009-12-09T08:40:00.002+08:00

Forget what we're told.

Before we get too old.

Show me a garden that's bursting into life.

***

None shall be like this.

Out of many, comes one.

2009-12-06T11:07:00.003+08:00

"I'm sick of maintaining this happy facade, I can't do it any more. This mask I put on to face everyone is starting to wear thin, and some days I wonder how people don't see right through me and are exposed to my pain. I wonder how people look at me and don't see my how badly I'm suffering, because I'm not even trying to hide it any more."

As much as I can sense the pain and frustration you're feeling, hey, I do feel the same way as you. And remember that we're right behind you somehow love.

Like that motto that was drilled into our heads back in TMS,

We care.

2009-12-05T11:10:00.001+08:00

The phase of reconstruction begins.

Slowly. Don't fucking know about the surely.

2009-11-29T22:12:00.005+08:00

Lay down your soul, scatter it on an old piece of scrappy paper and leave it there in the open... can you do that?

Are you capable of opening up so recklessly that anyone could take that piece of paper and tear it to pieces? That anyone could tear your soul apart without a single thought, with a simple word or gesture, that paper can burst into flames irretrievably, and your whole conception of the world along with it.. it will transform you. It will turn you into something you would have never believed you could become, possibly into the thing you loathe most... so, after all, why bother?

Why risk it? It’s hard the way it is now, but think again, if you do open up, are you up to facing the repercussions? Are you ready?

You will never be ready and you know it, but you do it anyway, because you hate the thing you came to be, you hate being scared and you hate depending on others.

NO, you are not needy and you don’t need anyone's help or pity, not to mention the fact that you don’t need a shoulder to cry on and you will never need it, because you don’t cry. Humans cry. You are not part of that weak, unstable race, people who go on living their insignificant lives, surviving on petty lies and deceit. You’re too good for that. Get a grip of yourself!

They keep trying to corrupt you, to hurt you out of boredom or for their simple amusement, they run you over with their tanks of lies, they try to bring you down with words that hurt, they remind you of your failures, they laugh at the things you love most, they put a razor in your hand and tell you softly, ”down the road love, not across the street”. They put a gun to your head and then they make you hold and aim it, they make you push the trigger.

They call you names, they judge you, they hate you, they beat you, they try to scare you, they want you to quit.. why? You know why; because it’s you, because you’re so much better, because you don’t need them at all, because you can bring them all to your knees if you really want to, but you don’t want that, you simply don’t care, you simply don’t need them, and you simply turn your back on them and walk away. It kills them.

They say you cannot live without love, that you won’t survive, that love’s the essence of life.. pure essence, pure perfection, pure life. They are right, but only by words, they are not right by feelings, because they speak so highly of love and yet, you know that none of them has ever felt it truly.

So why throw in empty words, words with meaning that they cannot comprehend, concepts that are nowhere near their understanding. You are too strong for these simple human acts of desperation; you know what the world truly is about and why.

You have the answer to everything, you’re everything you ever wanted, you are supreme, you are about to ascend, you simply need to be patient, after all, what is an eternity of patience compared to a life of human stupidity, ignorance, lies, mischief, hate and betrayal?

This is what I call closure. There. Now it’s all done. I regret that there are human beings blessed with the opportunity to ascend but they are so stupid they run from it and miss it. I don’t regret they miss it.

Maybe just a little, perhaps observation would be an interesting feature, but no, my regrets are that humans are given this opportunity in the first place.

It’s not for them after all.

2009-11-28T10:52:00.002+08:00

Had a strange dream.

I was with my grandma on a sampan in the middle of nowhere, sheesha-ing and talking about sealskin boots in winter.

In English.

I don't know what this means, but it must mean something.

2009-11-23T20:15:00.004+08:00

"So how do you define closure?"

He heard the booming voice of the psychiatrist seated beside him, on that huge brown armchair that seemed to be swallowing him every time he looked his way. He was lying on the ubiquitous leather sofa so common in offices of those practicing psychiatry. The wood-paneled ceiling looked cold somewhat, it reminded him of pine trees in winter. His eyes stared upwards, noticing every detail.

"What?"

The shrink sighed.

"How do you want to end this? To refresh your thoughts, your life and start anew."

He thought about it for a moment. That question seemed so strange to him, for some reason.

"I.. I don't know."

"What don't you know."

He said nothing.

The clock on the psychiatrist's table ticked loudly. Whether it was done deliberately or not to annoy patients, he couldn't tell. Slowly, he got up until he was at a sitting position, and faced the swarthy man in the armchair.

"Perhaps I should tell you what I do know."

"At your own time son."

He rubbed his face in his hands.

"I.. am unsure. Okay maybe not unsure. I'm scared. Confused. Tired. Sad. Maybe even a little bit stubborn. Truth is, I don't wanna forget. Or give up, for that matter. I don't know why. Everything now is already gone, past that stage of reconciliation. I've alienated her to the point of no return. Maybe you could say I'm obsessed. But please, I beg to differ really. I'm not like that. It's just something hard for me to comprehend, especially now. Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me, what my flaws really are, where I'm going wrong. "

"I've had crap after crap fly into my face worse than a pig farmer, and despite that I've kept going, kept believing. I don't know, really. Sometimes I think that I really am a liability to myself and to my companions. A few times I feel so lonely, in that psychological sense you know? That it makes me sick.. Lost..."

He started sobbing.

The man waited patiently, watching his patient almost in a heap on the sofa. He had seen worse.

"Let it out. Take your time, if you want to stop, tell me."

He wiped his face slowly with his handkerchief. His vision slowly returned to normal. He took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

He paused.

"Closure." he said the word slowly.

"What about it?"

"Such an intangible word huh, doc?"

The man said nothing.

"To find closure.." he started murmuring. "Surely it would take more than just mental power, or strength, or what do you call it? Psychoanalytic endurance? Whatever shit that was. You know, many of my friends who aren't in my position seem to find it so easy to tell me to forget everything, you know?" he looked at the psychiatrist straight in the eye. "But oh, trust me, it's more than that. What I feel, what I really feel," he was rambling now, hand on his chest. "is way much more than just.. just.." he mumbled off.

His patient was standing now, walking towards the window, staring out into the dull November rain outside.

"But perhaps it would be easier for you to find it, by simply channeling your thought processes to achieving it. Slowly but surely."

He said nothing.

"There's no other way son. To do this, you have to forget it. Yes the whole notion of it. Everything. Out. Kaput."

He continued staring out the window, seemingly in deep thought.

"It's your only chance of ever, ever finding that closure that you need, although your mind resists seeking it. I understand. But nothing is permanent son. Remember that. As sure as the sun rises every day, time passes through your fingers, and you wouldn't want to lose anymore of it on this. No more son."

He continued. "If you have to, perhaps just shut everything out completely. Undertake that phase of "non-existence." It never happened to you. Nothing did. You're like a newborn, starting completely afresh, in a whole new world. This is the hardest, but most effective part of your recovery."

The man paused, letting the words sink in to his patient, now leaning against the wall beside the window, staring back at him. He reached inside his pocket and fished out a packet of cigarettes.

"You mind doc?"

He shook his head. "Go ahead son. And light one for me too."

While they were both smoking, the patient sat down on the sofa again and sighed slowly. He ran his fingers through his hair and spoke,

"I want to thank you, doc."

"Your welcome son. Whatever for."

"For.. everything you know. Listening to my ramblings. Your good advice. Your treatment. Everything. You know, I guess you could say that I'm at a crossroads now, wondering which direction to go to, contemplating. Well I wouldn't say I have a definite idea on which road to take, but I'm pretty sure that soon, it might just come to me. Soon."

"Only you control your life son. I'm just here to guide your mind, prescribe treatment for your mental well-being. Everything you wish to undertake, now and in the future, the decision and its consequences are all yours, just like they always have been."

The patient gave a half-smile, shaking his head.

"Will I ever understand any of this, doctor?"

"You decide."

He nodded, as if accepting this as an answer. Then with a flourish, he got up and put on the hoodie that was hanging on the psychiatrist's coat hanger.

"Well I have to go now doc. Hopefully I'll see you soon. Thank you."

"Your welcome, son. Take care of yourself. Don't let the world get to you out there. Good luck and God bless."

And with that, the man watched his patient open the door to his clinic and step out into the cold, rain-soaked pavement outside, cigarette smoke trailing after him. As he watched the door slowly close, he said a silent prayer. For all his years of psychiatry training and practice, he had been told never to trust in the presence of an omnipotent. That science and fact reigned supreme. But for that moment, he prayed. Prayed that he would see his patient walk through the door again, and not be on the front page of what his receptionist would give him every morning.

2009-11-22T14:25:00.002+08:00

He felt the rain in the air. Felt the balm of humidity seep into his skin. He could smell it, that effervescent scent of atmospheric moisture.

Storm's coming, he thought to himself.

He took a final drag out of the cigarette and flicked it away, wary of any Health officers who would be tempted to fine him. But there were none. He watched smoke drift slowly around his head in the still evening air.

He waited.

"Hey."

That unmistakable voice.

He turned to face her.

"Hey."

They said nothing for awhile. Just stared at each other, like two star-crossed souls out there on a Saturday evening in the middle of a suffocating city.

"Let's go."

"Wait."

He looked at her. She paused, then reached into her pocket and took out a blank piece of paper. She pressed it into his hand.

"Take this. I can't come with you."

The surprise on his face was evident. "What? Why?"

"Because I'm just a dream. Your dream. I was never real. I'm something unattainable to you. A Freudian fallacy, if you'd call it that. Perhaps with this gift you'd understand one day. Now I have to go. Take care of yourself. God bless."

She turned to walk away.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He wanted to move, to grab her but he was rooted to the ground. This couldn't be happening! Oh God. Please.

He felt the tears running down his face now, felt that overwhelming sadness shroud him. He'd never understand. How true. So that was it. Everything now was just a dream. A mindless dream.

He'd never be happy. He'd never understand.

That was his last thought as he lost consciousness.

2009-11-22T11:46:00.002+08:00

I need an emotional breakdown, right now.

God help me, for only He knows the path that has been laid at His discretion for His followers.

Amen.

2009-11-22T00:19:00.003+08:00

I'll blog.

My day. Met with Fish and Joaquin, two long lost companions and we headed over to the Starbucks at One Fullerton. Decent enough place I guess. Fish said I should've brought my camera. Maybe when I finally get the new lens huh. Soon.

It was great really, talking to them. About old times. An era which seemed so fresh in our minds, every single thing which affected me so much became nothing but bits of ridiculous recollections.

But I enjoyed their company. Seems they never really did forget me after all. We should do this again, next week perhaps. Some proper sheesha would be in order.

Joaquin really impressed me. Having a girlfriend didn't mean spending less time with his mates. In fact it seemed to be the complete opposite. And the added bonus, his girlfriend gets along very well with his friends. A rarity. He could bring her along and it wouldn't be awkward. And no, he doesn't "nonok". If he's made plans with us, he sticks with it. No leaving-early-go-meet-gf shit. Nice one man.

Then I went over to Pasir Ris to meet Ally and M under the Arabian block. Made a new friend, some feller with nice hair and a voice I wouldn't wanna stop hearing. Lovely. Played cards. Then Craig David's daughter came to join us, then her friends came and I was completely lost in translation.

Went home with M. She's great, really.

What else can I say. I could stand in the rain waiting for something that'll never come. Ever.

2009-11-19T21:17:00.002+08:00

Someday I wanna learn how to breathe, and maybe even laugh and sing without having to force myself.

Someday I'd love to shed this cloak of futility around me and just run and feel the breeze, frolic and play and feel the warmth in my soul.

Someday.

2009-11-18T22:08:00.002+08:00

It's the same every time.

Every single opportunity I get to meet strangers I alienate them straightaway with my questionable sense of humour.

Sometimes I wonder what my friends see in me in the first fucking place.

2009-11-18T08:59:00.003+08:00

I saw you.

Thanks for that. Really, if there was any other way I could express my sarcasm in words. Thanks.

2009-11-16T21:36:00.003+08:00

I remember how apologetic you were after the bus ride, feeling guilty because you were asleep the whole time while I sat there seemingly alone.

You shouldn't feel bad really. You know, just sitting there, watching you sleep on that ride, was enough. No words were needed. You looked peaceful with your eyes closed, that distinctive nose of yours against the moving scenery outside, I could've sat there till the end of forever.

Remembering times long gone.

Ah fuck myself.

Sorry if this bothers you huh.

2009-11-16T08:59:00.003+08:00

7 irrational things that happen to people who happen to watch the movie "Paranormal Activity."

1) They claim not to be able to sleep at night, citing scary scenes in the movie which they somehow relate themselves to.

2) They find sleeping in the dark unsettling, although they've been doing it all their lives.

3) They develop an urge to record themselves sleeping, and even freak out at the thought.

4) They start complaining about regretting watching the movie etc etc.

5) They become so affected by the movie they commit suicide.

6) They insist on having their parents sleep with them, only to shoo them off at the last minute because they're afraid of them getting possessed and maiming them alive.

7) They sleep with the lights, TV, radio, computer on for the whole night. Oh and not forgetting the video camera.

Frankly, the only scary thing about this movie is how the director could create something with a budget of $115,000 to turn a profit of $133,000,000 in what, a few months?

I wish I was that bloody creative.

2009-11-08T02:35:00.003+08:00

I had a lot of things on my mind as I sat outside my doorstep at 2.14 in the morning, clutching a cigarette and the ubiquitous lighter in my hand. Half-naked, with an embarrassingly gaping hole in my pants the size of Belgium which I wouldn't be caught dead in public in; however this morning I had no inhibitions. I would've sat outside naked if I wanted to; I was lazy to remove my shorts.

I leaned against the wall and enjoyed the silence for awhile. The stillness of the early morning is calmic, a soothing balm I can feel on my skin. The breeze touches me, as I felt body and soul respond and relax under it's cool, seductive touch. The neighbourhood was silent, like a sleeping behemoth with barely any sign of activity. Lights in the HDB pigeon-holes all around me were dark, it's inhabitants deep in sleep within. I felt alone.

Almost tentatively, I placed the stick between my lips and took a few dry drags, savouring its minty taste. She crossed my mind for awhile, but I shook it off. No time for that now.

Or maybe there is time. There's always time for everything huh. No matter how pointless such things may seem. When you watch the things you dream for crumble in front of you like a house of cards it's hard to erase such negative thoughts out of one's consciousness.

I'm always thinking of her. Somehow. No matter how irreconcilable things may be.

My thoughts return to the here and now. The sound of crickets create a dull-melodic symphony that reverberated through my soul. I reached for my lighter and clicked it, watching the flame in all it's haunting beauty, feeling it warm my face and hands for a fleeting moment. I let it gently touch the cigarette's end, slowly taking a drag, feeling the cancer stick crackle and come to life. I feel it's soothing, icy cold smoke enter my lungs. Feel it inundating my system with nicotine.

Almost instantly I feel a faint rush, one similar to that of a tiny-burst of happiness, or when one falls in love. I felt my head clear up in an instant. A momentary numbness engulfs me, cloaks me up. I enjoy the feeling. Enjoy the precious euphoric high I get from this forbidden little pleasure of mine. The only one I have.

The thoughts return to my mind again, and I am gently but firmly brought down to Earth. My future. My career. GPAs, UTs, O Levels, friends, family, disputes, trust, love, honesty, fear, death. All came back to me in a torrent of cogitations, an almost suffocating shroud that strangles my brain and threatens my very sanity. Oh God, give me strength.

I say a silent prayer, and I calm down almost instantly. One at a time. I take a deep drag from the cigarette and watch smoke flow gently from my mouth and into the night air. Despite the mess that is my thoughts, it all returns to her. Always.

My mind begins to wander. Would she sense that I was thinking about her? Would she care? Does she miss me? Does she despise me? Hate me? These questions run through my mind, and despite my head answering them in the pragmatic way that it usually does; my heart wants it to be otherwise. It wants a positive answer, even if there can be no positive answer at all.

For a brief moment I want to cry. I feel so helpless, so lost. What's left to be done? What more can I do to salvage this?

And for some reason that I may never fanthom, you enter my mind. Yes you, the ghost of 12 years past. The only girl I know who's stayed in my mind longer than a decade.

My God, just recalling those times back then gives me a heartache. If by some reason you're actually reading this, do you remember them too? How my mother met yours when she was looking for an interior designer? Your Bayshore Park condo? Frolicking in the pool almost every weekend I went over, playing with your little brother. He has to be at least 14-16 now if I could recall correctly.

You were my first crush. And if my memory didn't fail me, perhaps I was yours too. Oh, how we were young and dumb, naïve and unschooled in the ways of love. Ah it sure does sound really silly now huh? It was the youngest romance I'd ever known. God, I was only 7.

Much of what we went through together in those short months are still imprinted in my memory. Those swimming lessons, the long walks around your estate and giggling while trying to hold hands properly, your dimples, so many things. I remember them so often it's hard to even think of forgetting it. It'll always have a special place within me.

And then that was it. My mom got into a dispute with yours, and all contact was lost. That was in late 1997, and I still remember that last fleeting glimpse of you in the living room at my new house in Ang Mo Kio. You walked out of my life right then, never to be seen or heard from again. In the age before mobile phones among youth were widespread, or the dominance of Windows 98, any chance of retaining contact with you was practically nonexistent. I didn't even have your home-phone number.

Sometimes I think about you, through all these years. I recalled how badly I wanted to see you again at times, but my mom refused to divulge your address, phone numbers or even your last name, which unfortunately I have forgotten, feigning forgetfulness. All I can remember is that you were around my age (or about a year older), you live(d) at Bayshore Park, your mom drove a BMW, you have a little brother, a maid, a dog and you used to be in the ballet classes at Thomson Plaza. That's all that's been stored in my mind after all these years.

Skeptics, including my friends, might read the past few paragraphs with scorn and assume that I was making up a tall tale in my addled state of mind. Well, let them. Because I can truthfully say with the utmost sincerity that what I have recounted here is real. Yes it might seem implausible at the age I've mentioned but that was how it was; how we felt. Even I wouldn't be able to explain it.

I've never told anyone this story, except for a few. It's a part of my life that means so much to me, and I don't want to lose it. I just want to bare my soul right now, with all that's been happening in my life recently.

If somewhere, somehow, you're actually reading this, and you find what I've said in this post vaguely familiar, I just want you to know that I still remember. After 12 years. I want you to know that I miss you, that I've been thinking about you. And I hope that wherever you are, you're safe and healthy with your family. I hope you'd remember me too. That young boy of 7, who would visit you on those Sunday afternoons at Bayshore Park..

2009-11-07T23:12:00.005+08:00

Desperate for changing,

Starving for truth.

I'm closer to where I started,

I'm chasing after you.

I'm falling even more in love with you.

Letting go of all I held onto.

I'm standing here until you make me move.

I'm hanging by a moment here with you.

Forgetting all I'm lacking,

Completely incomplete.

I'll take your invitation..

You take all of me now.

2009-11-05T23:37:00.003+08:00

Tired. Body, mind, soul.

Oh, and the new Ice Blast is the shit. Wonder where Philip Morris gets all these ideas from. Squeezing the filter to get one hell of a menthol kick? Count me in.

In the words of a friend, "Like inhaling peppermint ice cream."

(Y)

2009-11-04T11:20:00.000+08:00

Let's go japanese.

2009-11-03T21:46:00.001+08:00

Credits to Pau.

And thanks Alia. Really.

2009-11-03T12:42:00.002+08:00

2009-11-01T13:03:00.004+08:00

I long to be in uncharted waters, if only for awhile, to detach myself from the bullshit that I drown in everyday.

I long for a change, for new perspectives, new beginnings, yet a part of me holds back.

The ever-constant failure, the negativity, the lies, they all shroud me in a suffocating cloak. I don't want this anymore.

I'm slowly but surely losing my mind, my sanity. I need some time alone. A friend once said I seem to shunt my friends away when I need them. Maybe that's true.

Fuck this. I need my smokes.

Because they don't lie, cheat, hurt you, talk back, argue and insult you. All they do is kill you slowly.

And I like that.

2009-10-30T11:12:00.004+08:00

FUCK YOU AH CB.

I'M SURE YOU'RE ENJOYING YOURSELF WATCHING ME INDULGE IN SELF-LOATH.

WELL YOU CAN GO FUCK OFF.

And no, this isn't about you ah Vernie.

FUCK YOU.

2009-10-29T22:23:00.003+08:00

I've never felt so fucking bitter in my life.

What's this.

Fuck it la.

2009-10-29T20:59:00.001+08:00

I don't understand why you even bothered to ask anyway.

I know as and when my presence isn't needed.

Fuck.

2009-10-28T23:16:00.002+08:00

Delko: Hey I'm sorry for putting you in a stiff in front of Frank just now.

Calleigh: It's okay. It was just something weird. We should forget it.

Delko: What if I don't want to?

Calleigh: ..

Calleigh: Look, I'm confused.

Delko: ..

Calleigh: I don't know what you want or getting at. Really. Unless I hear the words right out of your mouth Eric. You have to tell me. Just tell me.

Delko: ..

Way to go Eric.

2009-10-27T09:02:00.001+08:00

So far away from where you are
These miles have torn us worlds apart
And I miss you
Yeah, I miss you
So far away from where you are
Standing underneath the stars
And I wish you were here

I miss the years that were erased
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face
I miss all the little things I never thought that they’d mean everything to me
Yeah, I miss you
And I wish you were here

I feel the beating of your heart
I see the shadows of your face
Just know that wherever you are
Yeah, I miss you
And I wish you were here

I miss the years that were erased
I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face
I miss all the little things
I never thought that they’d mean everything to me
Yeah, I miss you
And I wish you were here

So far away from where you are
These miles have torn us worlds apart
And I miss you
Yeah, I miss you
And I wish you were here

2009-10-26T21:38:00.003+08:00

(23/10)
12:05 AM you mess with sean you mess with pt i can only imagine how much sean hates you right now really..

1:27 AM here's my advise, just try to keep things to yourself when people tell you things that you're not supposed to tell people.

So what gives. Huh bro? Guys?

Secrets are secrets, but one threads a thin line when such information has the ability to consume one's morality and conscience.

For all her flaws, she never let it. You did.

Revelations.

2009-10-26T01:20:00.004+08:00

A machine where your heart once was,

Slowly takes the place of you.

Never thought a single line from a song could be such an accurate description of you, of my life.

If this was how low you could go, if this is it...

Perhaps it never occurred to you somehow, that third parties are no parties. That the truth doesn't stay buried forever.

Perhaps you never did understand me. Perhaps it was all drowned out by your wailings of an easy way out, which in turn only buried you deeper in an intangible mess you wished you never started.

I guess you feel proud of yourself huh? Got the job done, incognito. I'm supposed to hate you. Despise you. Move on with life, brush the dust off my shoulders and start anew. Wow if things were ever so easy.

So you got others, your proxies to be your ill-fated messengers. Wash your hands off any involvement. Foolproof. But you forgot one thing. That unlike the hapless mercenaries you "hired" for such a dirty task, came an unwitting character with a conscience.

When the shit hits the fan, the guilty always find a way out of their predicament, whether through moral or immoral means. The latter is always the easiest, so a scapegoat had to be found. And of course, the one with the conscience was picked, and thus it started a chain reaction of events that spread months.

I am sad because of the many intangible things that occur in my life. Not everything has to relate to you, although they mostly do at some point. You say you're annoyed at the things I say, at how I'm feeling.

It's my life. If you're so concerned, then for Heaven's sake bring it up with me. Yes me. Yours truly. Drop me a text. An email. MSN, whatever. Meet up. If you know you can't get to me one way or another, a text or an email would do. It doesn't take much thinking.

I'm sad. So be it. I'm depressed. So be it. You don't have to use such drastic measures to force me into something I'm not willing to do. Were you that desperate? Is that how you wanted to silence me? By ensuring the finality of my heartbreak and having a guaranteed notion of me moving on?

Are things these easy nowadays?

I have no idea what else to say. None. The past 24 hours have been an emotional roller-coaster for me. You pitted the people I trust into such a deed, to get that way out, without having your hands dirty. You put me at odds with the person I call my best friend. You lie and deliberately hide the truth for your own dirty ends.

I have completely lost the trust I've ever had in my best friend. What can I say. What can I do. It's all there, screaming out at me. The lies. The deceit. He has devolved, changed into something I barely recognize. And it scares me. It hurts me. Ultimately, it forgets what the word friendship is for.

The impact you've left in my heart is absolute. Both good and bad. Perhaps one day the emotional scar might heal. Perhaps I'll actually realise something one day. Perhaps one day you'd realise the impact of your actions too.

Perhaps. Just another intangible word for you huh.

2009-10-25T00:52:00.001+08:00

You bastard.

You fucking dirty, dishonest bastard.

2009-10-23T19:38:00.000+08:00

I give up.

Raise the white flag, lay down my arms.

Fuck.

2009-10-22T15:11:00.002+08:00

Why don't you look yourself in the mirror and understand what the fuck's wrong with yourself.

Perhaps you're letting things cloud your judgment and forget the stuff that's most closest to you.

Get your head out of your ass.

Fucking shit.

2009-10-22T08:35:00.001+08:00

SIAL.