8 June [Life, Dreams and Regrets]

I’m probably telepathic. I can almost hear the scoffs and the sound of eyeballs rolling at the topic of this post.

He’s only, what, not even a quarter of a century old. What regrets could he possibly have. Fuck, what does he even know about regrets.

Or thereabouts.

If you are one of the (predictable or cynical, take your pick) few as illustrated above, you can’t be more right. I know about regrets as much as I’m well versed in the Shakespeare. Chances are, neither do you. So go read up on Othello and other ‘to be or not to be’s.

What gives? You ask. Well, have you ever woke up one morning feeling as awesome as an energizer rabbit, ready to fuck the hell out of all the lemons the world dares to throw in your direction? You feel so psyched that you don’t just make lemonades; the sheer force of your badassery mutates the shit out of the lemon like radiation did to Johnny Storm. You then casually toss the bright yellow, flame engulfed ball of citrus right back at the universe.

and coolly strides away from the scene after flipping the world off

Well, other times you wake up feeling like this:

This, just less cute.

It’s these mornings when you suddenly jolt from sleep, feeling utterly crappy when you reflect on your life and how much (little) you have accomplished. The comfort of your bed seems to be mocking you, like that cold cold shower which ensues. Wait. Are those water all over your droopy facade? Or are those your wimpy tears? Okay, I exaggerate but you must admit you like the melodramatic effect.

Though, unfortunately, the part where you reflect on how little you have accomplished is as true as it gets.

Then I realize, actually I have no real regrets.

Sure, I wished I hadn’t bought that piece of shitty LG laptop from Harvey Norman; and I wished I had agreed to go to that party last month. But these are not really regrets, aren’t they? When we say regrets, we usually refer to those crucial, life altering decisions which make a difference. Okay, maybe if I were to put it that way, one of my regrets was my failure to rescue a dog which was run down on the streets. It might not have been monumental, but it’s not as trite as a poor purchase decision or a fashion faux pas which may or may not have led to a socially awkward situation.

Source: College Humor

And then some of you will go, ‘I may not have very significant regrets. But I have dreams. Lofty dreams!’

Quick survey. What are some of your dreams?

Huge houses? Loving family? Enough dollar bills to wipe your sniffles with? Be the next top model? Have your own fashion label? Be an international celebrity? Maybe join the pro soccer team? Top of your career ladder?

I ish wanna be besh pilot!

If you’re like anybody else, you’ll probably want to have more than two of the above, and very few of us are as noble as to have dreams and aspirations like, ‘ I wanna find the cure for HIV and cancer!’,’ I wanna be the next Mother Theresa’, ‘ I wanna make world peace a reality’. Okay, the last one will probably be (pretentiously) true if you’re running for a pageant.

There is also a chance that you might not even have a concrete dream- a dream that you’re actually working towards. It’s not really that pressing isn’t it? To have a dream at this age, since we are so young? Oh, these excuses are as common as eye shits and are lies we tell ourselves to coax our spirits. And then we remember the accomplishments some people our age have already bagged.

Dr Seus: This monkey has been on the moon. What 'bout you!

I’m not saying all the other non-grandiose dreams are trivial and unimportant. Dreams and aspirations are all important because they keep us going. Simple dreams are still dreams and shouldn’t be undermined. It is the lack of aspiration that sucks. The point is, just because our dreams doesn’t involve saving thousands of lives, doesn’t mean it is not worthy to be an aspiration or a dream.

No moderately sane people would wake up one morning and think, ‘I’m going to make human flight possible by inventing a serum which gives people wings!” [Author's note: Not paid by Redbull for promotional slogan. However commission is welcome.]

Most lofty dreams stem from an equally compelling occurance, which inexplicably have an unusually powerful effect on the said aspirator. Perhaps maybe his fiancée’s plane was hijacked and she was casually tossed out of the plane mid-flight at 10000 feet above ground. The resulting trauma was so severe he felt compelled to equip every single human being with wings so that such tragedy does not ever occur again.

However, shit falling from the sky is now going to be a serious socio-cultural issue

Really, not many of us (and hopefully so) will ever have such magnitudinal incident that can awaken our internal lofty-aspiration generator.

So, instead of being dejected at having your dreams call trite. Fuck ‘em. Your dreams are yours and no one can judge it, not even if your life long dream involves swallowing 1000 sausages in under 5 minutes. It’s still respectable (also fatal) dream. I mean, hell, if you think it’s gonna give you a sense of pride and accomplishment after successful completion, do it.

I think I might have ADD, I have totally deviated from my original intent of this post but it’s still something.

27 Dec [Decisions II]

You’d think that guys are generally decisive.

What happened today was that Diann introduced this IT-related job to me. Basically, it sounds pretty standard- a 5-day work week, 9am to 6pm, minimum commitment of a few months . What I really like about this job is that you get to wear casual for work, and it’s just 30minutes away from my place, so it’s really convenient. The pay is $5.50 an hour, which is slightly below standard market rates. Also, I’m pretty apprehensive about committing myself to a regular job for a couple of months. What if I don’t like the job? What if I can’t get along with the people? What if I want to hang out with friends but can’t because I have got a job?

So this job has got its perks and downfall.

You know how some Yahoo! articles tell you about bosses who Google potential employees to dredge up any possible secrets they may have conveniently left out during the interview? Yeah, maybe one day he will find this little entry hiding at the bottom of the virtual pile of search results. I think companies should really have an entire department devoted to this whole CIS shenanigan, like a P.I. department. Like, BOOM. All your secrets will be uncovered by in this department: You have mistresses all over the South Pacific countries, your two gay dads, your son is fucking the boss’s daughter, your villa in North Pole.

Oh, the horror!

Then again, I would THRIVE in that department with my acute CIS skills.

Have I told you guys how much I love Disney? And by Disney,I really mean Mickey Mouse, Little Mermaid and the other characters in the bandwagon. I know I’m too old for that and all, but they are really good. They used to, and still do, lift moods with their chirpy songs. Many credits to Gabe Bondoc and AJ Rafael on YouTube for their amazing covers.

Hakuna Matata folks!

Woah. I’m surprised I’m even here.

I wonder how many people are actually still reading this. But heck, at this stage, I’m just keeping tabs on my life so that if I happen to be an international star one day, I can look back and write a biography. Then again, write a biography? Sheesh. Right now, the only literary ( How the hell do you pronounce this shit without making it sound like, literally?) work I see myself doing is reports.

After the  3-year reports marathon. I’m feeling the burn from the academic lactic acid.

Okay, in the interest of any stalkers I might have, my polytechnic education kinda ends on 15 February. But at this point, I can’t see that far yet. My life is clouded by reports and L4D2 zombies (Hell yeah, pipe bombs!). After that, I might just work all the work I have wanted to work but couldn’t work and have all the fun I wanted to have but couldn’t have.

Still, I’m generally happy as fuck

You know, sometimes I think I’m really too oblivious to my surrounding. Like, my friend would tell me a certain someone feels a certain way about me and I would be like, no shit? Or they would tell me about something which had happened behind my back and i would be like, no wayyyy. What this means is that you shouldn’t really be waiting for me to pick up hints. I don’t pick up 20cent coins, I don’t pick up hints. I probably wouldn’t know if there’s an elephant in the shower.

So if you used to be mad at me or used like me (I can only hope) but I didn’t know, I guess I’m sorry.

Still, even though I suck at picking up hints, please don’t throw a bucket of it in my face? I will get terribly scared/sad/angry/confused easily , depending on what it is.

I was telling some of my friends how these 3 years had make me weak physically and mentally. I haven’t had regular exercises for quite a bit and my fitness is pretty worrying. I pant after a trip to the kitchen. Phew. I’m already sweating buckets typing for this long.

Also, I didn’t realize how dependent I have become until recently. And I act like a little kid, even more childish than my juniors. This isn’t good, especially since I’m enlisting pretty soon. I’m impressed at past myself when I reminisce about the SJ times. I didn’t skip CCA just because it’s PT, or just because it’s too tough. But now, I just might. It’s amazing how how we used to survive those shit ass torture and I could fucking push myself to do loads of heavy duty work without much protest from Mr. Cerebrum. Now he’s this whinybitch in my brain.

Man up.

Oh yeah, my friend from SP Touch Rugby was telling me how many of her friends are lesbians/bisexuals. Hell yeah, hot lesbians are hot. Duh. And she said that SP is pretty okay compared to other polytechnics, which means that TP/NP/NYP/RP has got to have a legion of lesbian touch ruggers barreling through the fields.

Anyway, my point is that I think all girls are bisexual.

My barrage of fleeting topics have probably gotten your brain neurons all tangled up (cue Rapunzel song). I iz  NINJA! Still, I hope you guys will stay with me and I hope to see y’all around

Less than three

26 October

Sorry about the freakishly long hiatus in between posts. Actually I’m not. For any stalkers out there who’s wondering where on Earth I had been, I was probably living somewhere in the back of my mind wondering about collies, sitcoms and lunch. The shadow of my previous years are desperately fanning the wisp of creativity and fun while the front cortex of my existence continuously receive batters from the harsh reality of life. Well, mostly school.

Go wispy, burn!

Two weeks into school and the Maldives-like  class schedule is barely any resort cheer. But I’m 90% sure that one of the lecturers in school is related to one of the three Siew Mais in Dim Sum Dollies. Train Is Coming, anybody? Their song sure is clearing up seats for those who need it more-I don’t even want to enter the train station anymore.

On a side note, I have been seeing a lot of old friends recently. *Collect cheer from shadows fanning wisps* It reminded me of old times and how much we still stay the same even though we are also changing. Does that make sense?

Also, the haze which has been hanging around like an annoying marketer has finally dispersed. I never knew clean air tasted this good. Yes, tasted. Don’t ask.

 

 

17 September

It has been a really long while, but I’m beside myself that exams are over and it’s BREAKKKKK!

4 weeks isn’t very long, but it is still a month.

Maybe  I will do something productive this break, or I will just rule the TV and the couch. I mean, hell, cable is awesome. There’s like something to watch almost every hour and it kept me at the couch for basically most of the time I’m home, which is good I guess, since it essentially means I have migrated out from my room into the den.

I need a defibrillator to jump start my life.

Speaking of which, it’s great that I’m heading out more often recently. I haven’t been doing that since starting my post-secondary education. I mean hell, distance is a bitch. Meeting friends are awesome, though it would be awesome if I could see them in the sunlight.

Midnight cab  fares are like bitch buddies with distance.

Nygeh?

25 July [URGHHHH]

I’m looping Celtic Woman’s Amazing Grace and You Raised Me Up over and over again for the past few days because it seems to be the only hope I can grasp on to in this period of pure hell.

Three words sum this period up:

Anguish, Despair and Weariness

I need:

Happy, Carefree and Joyful.

These few weeks, and the following to come, has been a real bitch. It’s like, a deluge of projects and tests. The fact that I have to face the worst teacher of the century twice every week doesn’t help make me feel better. It’s like a mental NS, or something.

I read somewhere that things happen for a reason, and every such event will only benefit us in the best way possible; it’s like lifting weights in a workout station. You know what, my brain had better become some champion weightlifter after this period have passed.

Either way, it will really make me appreciate all the goods times.

Maybe that’s the lesson life is trying to teach us.

16 June [Nygah]

Here’s a little birthday shout out to two of my friends:

Happy birthday Clarice Zhang

Happy Birthday Diann Lee

So anyway,

Anyone who has waddled in rainy puddles would have an idea of how being in wet canvas shoes can be downright awful. There was an insane deluge earlier today, and we had a school trip. The rain was awesome and the bus was really sleek, but it really sucked when we had to waddle our way across the shin-high baby-pool-wannebe puddle, along a really tortuous road which left the bottom half of our jeans, and our shoes totally soggy.

And we had to spend the next 8 hours in an air-conditioned place. Cold much?

All whining done, that trip was actually really rewarding. There were so much information that haven’t been on the news and I just added another potential job to my imaginary job listing. The people there were totally dawgggg. HAHAHAH! Inside joke, please.

Half of my GSS shopping is done and my bank account is screaming stop. Speaking of shopping, what’s with the berms this days? I mean, HELL, they’re only half the length of a typical jeans but yet they’re, like, a fraction less expensive. Seriously, who buy berms which costs like $70, let alone $99. Okay, there’re also rich people out there.

But I’m not. Yet.

Sheesh, some people just wanna rip us off.

Meanwhile, I will revel in my own cheap berms.

HAH.