as the year draws to a close i feel like it's almost obligatory that i do the usual end-of-year review. the stumblingtumbling annual for 2008, if you will. but i was about to say something that i feel i've said before a year ago, and i looked back at older entries and there you have it:

I used to like this time of the year. A time when all that newspapers features are look-backs on the past year, in individualized sections. grouped into movies, home, sports etc so we can take stock in a more organized manner. A way of looking back in a nostalgic, oh-man-i-remember-that, laugh-at-ourselves way. It gives you an option: easy and simple. Count your blessings, understand your worldviews, look back on the world on an annual, calendar-year basis. It's reassuring, to know that the media and the hardworking journalists (which now includes two friends) have done it for you: diligently divided the year into the Best and Worst of 2007, subcategoried, ready-with-opinions, for easy digestion.

But then you realize that the packaged look-back was of the world, and not yours. And that's where you have to come in: you are Supposed to look back on your year, think about it, (you dont' necessarily have to come to conclusions), be motivated enough to come up with New Year Resolutions, and then when all that is done, take out your party hats and poppers, and celebrate the New Year.

So there. it's been said. But i guess what's different for me this year is that i've tried out new things, did a bit more drawing, and basically spent the year in anticipation of the next one. learnt more about people i guess. And i believe there were many days this year where i came home and genuinely thought to myself: this was a good day. and that is a bigger and far greater feeling than any there is. not trying to be holier than thou; in fact this all sounds old and terminal. i should stop myself-

this post is getting a little too reflective and introspective, and i really should just return to my roots when i blogged about my day, or something vaguely funny that happened, or the lack of anything that interested me. haha. this blog sucks in this way.

there are people who are enthusiastic about things, and people who are cynical. and i guess anybody who enjoys a good bitching session around a table- in a cafe too noisy for eavesdropping- is cynical to some degree. at this point i really don't know how i came onto this topic - i guess it's to do with the idea of celebration and new beginnings; i think cynicism has to take a back seat when it comes to times like this, when a real and sincere self-celebration will do good for anybody. it's actually a pretty good feeling: release from the burden of the year that fades one year back into memory, coupled with a genuine interest in the year ahead, and wanting to do a little better, if not some good, in this coming year. before we come to the end of that, again.

wasn't too bad. but have a better year anyway

hello. haha alright it was too tempting to not-blog just to prove janice's reverse psychology attempts futile. anyway, right, i'm back, for a while.

actually i've been neglecting this space recently partly because i've been spending more time on atumble.tumblr.com, so yeah, do visit it! it's a new thing, and i don't know how far it's going, but well, it appears more sustainable to me right now. i'm just running out of things to talk about, maybe.

my dad came home yesterday and was over the moon at coming in fourth in his annual bowling competition, and at the fact that he scored the highest game of 240, beating others who have expensive bowling balls and shoes, and practice way before the competition, while he only bowls that one time a year. haha. he's always returning with all these random triumphs. that day he was telling me about how he got scolded by his boss for no reason, but he made it sound like his triumph in a way. i really can't explain it. and oh no this is the person i'm gonna grow up to be like!

i think i'm really terrible at driving. hence i shall save up more money, for a better bicycle. and cycle for the next 30 years under the pretext of eco-friendliness.

one week of leave! and i'm bent on making it fulfilling. so far it's been great! new stuff and things to do i need more than a week away

unwelcome aches in my body. oh no it's the pre-sick feeling. flying tmr but for some reason i'm not feeling anything. typical: nothing seems to hit hard these days. i think it's my new personal rule: i never worry about my tomorrow, today. sounds like a plan for disaster

we're always one step from disaster anyway. disaster's gotta be quick, sudden, and unexpected. why else would it be one? sounds like my personal maxim is reasonable after all

i spend pre-flight day drawing. it's kinda great to suddenly pick up my sketchbooks and pencils again. life got in the way for two years! at times its a pendulum between frustration and creation. but it all happens in this little untouchable cocoon; a world simple and cemented in the Today. tomorrows and yesterdays vanish, for that little while. moments where, everything seems kinda okay.

in other news, did another threadless submission! gotta wait for them to accept though. by then i wont be around to see it score badly but oh well! sending anyway. link from atumble.tumblr.com.

right. here are my personality test results. its quite generic eh, and hasnt told me anything that i havent learnt from previous personality tests yet. but still! it makes me sound good so i suspect that's how personality tests succeed: they just boost your ego a bit and then make you think the test is good. ok this is just wordy so i guess you can skip the following

You are a Visionary

Your imagination, self-assuredness, and knowledge of the world combine to make you a VISIONARY.

You have clear notions of how things could be, and the confidence to try to make them that way.

You enjoy having a routine, and prefer comfort and familiarity to risk and adventure.

Not needing others' approval to forge ahead, you are confident in your designs for the future.

Your imagination allows you to envision the world as a better place.

You're better at thinking of the big picture than you are with details, and you can see wonder in abstract things.

Style and appearances are important to you, and you have a good eye for beauty.

You are somewhat rigid in your beliefs, which comes from both confidence and an aversion to change.

You are good at creating works of art in forms with which you're familiar.

Your independent streak allows you to make decisions efficiently and to trust your instincts

You have a strong sense of style and value your personal presentation - friends may even seek your style advice from time to time. You are Benevolent You are a great person to interact with—understanding, giving, and trusting—in a word, BENEVOLENT You don't mind being in social situations, as you feel comfortable enough with people to be yourself. Your caring nature goes beyond a basic concern: you take the time to understand the nuances of people's situations before passing any sort of judgment. You're a good listener, and even better at offering advice. You're concerned with others at both an individual and societal level—you sympathize with the plights of troubled groups, and you can care about people you've never met. Considering many different perspectives is something at which you excel, and you appreciate that quality in others. Other people's feelings are important to you, and you're good at mediating disputes. Because of your understanding and patience, you tend to bring out the best in people.

gosh . sorry! but i've got to do some self publicity:



and this! will be sorta a running site for my t-shirt stuff in the future ( i hope!) :

atumble.tumblr.com

do drop me a vote if you like the design(s) ! thanks

like how we're defined by the brands we wear, drink, read, eat, and suscribe to, we're also defined by the people interactions with people. or maybe it's just me. i'm a slightly different person per person. it's identity erosion, it's unreal, but it's inescapable. and sometimes this mash of persons in me will mess up. and we're all walking on balance beams: we quaver, and hesitate, and when we finally find our footing we take bigger strides, gain momentum, and move ourselves on. but then sometimes a breeze or step on the beam gets in my way, and i lose my footing. i take a while, retrace steps and then regain momentum. and i break into a run so that it's harder to be affected by the gentle pushes or the world spinning around you

and sometimes i think one has to lose oneself, to find oneself. this is again very Frost (memory fails me as i try to recall the poem's title) but i guess it's something of a reworking of these old ideas. its one reason i don't mind getting lost anywhere in singapore- how often does that happen? and when it does, you know the safety of familiarity is nearby. i take the chance to enjoy the walk

watched a movie alone. it's a breakthrough, and only people who have done so before would understand; and there's no compelling need to explain Ourselves to Others who do not See. it's a date with myself.

and then i realize i do that often. part of growing up is moving yourself along, alone. it's not emo. it's not old. it's just me-time. like taking a walk- one day i had to submit a form at a communitycentre and it was great to go out for a walk. with damien rice; jason mraz and john mayer plugged into the ears (thank goodness we live fully in the age of portable music). and it was a walk where there were no 'issues in the head' to clear up. and we should be thankful for these times, as and when they happen. because life moves on so fast sometimes we don't have conscious memories of these times of plain, simple, normalcy. the magic in taking a walk is really, in the walk itself. and to pull myself away before any more Frost and autumn-ness takes over-

taiwan was, in a word, TAIFUN. it was really the company too. the lazing in bed post-sloppy breakfast; the rushing around for the sights, sounds and shopping; the reckless photography- springing in goofy faces as and when we could; pillow-wars and photo-whores; endless television with hotel conversation; donuts, coke, delicacies and raw disgust (ahem). part fascination, part familiarity with a culture not too far from our own. pure killing instincts whenever a certain alarm stabbed us in our sleep, early in the morning. was fun! janice's blog will, probably, chronicle it better than i ever could.

Watching soyouthinkyoucandance on tv reignited some passion for reality tv. Good old reality tv. It brings the best and worst out of people. And it brings out the couch potato and tv addict in you.

There's something about watching people quarrel, breakdown, celebrate, cry or make a mess of themselves on television that captivates and enthralls the average audience. It's not like you even have anything to do with runways, dance floors, photoshoots, board rooms; or even isolated islands or globe-races. Nothing really close to the daily grind we trudge through, or the unimportant, self-obsessed activities that characterize and give shape to our weeks. Yet, reality tv moves, and raises you. It brings you back to basics without realizing it: the very foundations of the appeal of tv. It's about living another life; stepping through a wardrobe into another 'reality', so to speak. And the google box brings us places, brings realities to us on plates.

And it works its magic in ways we do not comprehend. Even with its contradictions: in spite of the way it moves you as you watch the contestants rise and fall, reality tv hardly effects any change in your life. It's the safe-ness of tv that we succumb to: a diehard subscription to tv-lives lived vicariously, but never made our own. Where we can still switch off, literally, and walk away - back to the bored moments, and boring motions in our lives.I guess there's always magic in a life not yours

You know the feeling that someone is watching you in the lift, although you're alone? This has come true.

A short account by #32

day one -
the Management installs CCTV that watches the lift lobby, and video-feeds to the LCD screen. this means that while you are waiting for the lift, the screen shows live footage of your back view, from the camera at the top, the eye of an owl that never, ever sleeps. but watches, and records. every move you make.

same day-
the Management sends a note to every doorstep:
Don't worry, we're watching over you.

days later-
the new lift they were constructing? completed. bright, fast, and new. mirrors around so you can inspect yourself, tweak your appearance, un-mangle your hair, pose, and prepare. problem is, it has a camera installed inside. problem two: the camera feeds to the same LCD screen in the lift lobby. imagine the horror! paranoia grips you while you're in the lift. people are watching. it's the people. it's the Management. they know about Us. there is no escape. We decide to put all meetings in the lift on hold, to see if it's safe. the Heads are at discussion. we await their decision.

days later-
what does this all mean? you may ask, young reader. it means our movement is restricted. the sole place we could transmit valuable encrypted notes is lost; our networks cut. Agents cannot appear friendly, for fear the Management would suspect liasons. we cannot sing to ourselves in the lift, talk to ourselves, dance like a rockstar. we cannot even change out of our Everyday clothing into our supersuits. Management sends another note:
Don't worry, we're watching you.

unknown time-
we've fled the premises. the Agency sent a burn-after-reading note, instructing us to do so. shortly before this, Management were sending forces down the corridors, cleaning out houses, checking genetic codes. escaped out of the window while i still could. suffered a cut on my knee. heading towards location P. god knows when i can write again.

(partially based on the true events of the installation of the lift CCTV)

today in camp i said:
"this feels endless. I feel like I was just here yesterday". but the irony was just left to tend to itself; people paid no attention. It was not a sense of deja vu, more a sense of endlessness. like a looping record - someone needs to change the disc please

The moment when you just snap out of a dream is magical. In that instant you are washed with loss, and left futilely grabbing for shreds of a memory, or rather, moments that flee from the 'Present' created in the dream, towards the Past and the Future. For dreams seem to spin yarns and weave stories about the future, drawing from the past, and the canvases of recent Presents. We're often left hanging, eyes still sleep-filled, for endings and conclusions of these dreams. If only endings came that easy!

Recollection (not out of nostalgia, or pretence) :
I remember this one dream from a long time ago vividly; I was at a stairwell in bras basah complex, with xx, and the ceiling turned into this sky of stars; a swirling sea of bright lights. Very much Harry Potter like! Stars in stairwell sky. stars familiar and unfamiliar; stars that point the future, with light from the past. And the stars danced to an infinity. I pointed out Orion.

And that was all i remember when I woke up. It was a cool scene. Someday I'll have it in a film! Maybe.

The Sun's Inching Closer

Crazy, cruel, relentless, raging, unbearable, unbelievable GLOBAL WARMING.

It's here. And it's hitting us hard. Beginning with the hottest summer yet. melt-your-bones, crave-for-cones, stay-at-home, iced-water-guzzling, fans-a-blasting, 3-baths-a-hour, desperate-for-a-shower kind of hot.

These are desolate times. We need to band together. It is a time when you get preyed on by advertising and make bad, subconscious decisions. Hold on while i go grab a bottle of ice cold coke from my fridge. And change my wallpaper to a picture of a bottle of cold Snapple.

It's times like these when we need the support groups. as a community suffering, not so much in silence, but in the apathy that pervades if we do nothing about it. Live Aid Concerts, Earth Hours, Earth Days I say! Just leave the air conditioning on while we cut off the rest of the power.

Everyone can contribute in their own ways. Be it well-meaning self-help survival guides for the weather (Summer Survival Guide, LamFunky) ; or pointless ranting with green messages not-so-sneakily inserted (The Sun's Inching Closer, yours truly), we can all make a difference.

Start today. Plant a tree; recycle the recyclable; live by candles at night; go on a week-long ipod strike so you don't keep charging it; watch less reality tv; keep the mini coopers at home and take the bus; plant more trees.

It helps. Let's begin. After American Idol.

a guy approached me on orchard road, handing me a sheet of coupons, explaining how purchasing it would help so-and-so charity. "sir, allow me to explain to you how..." I gave him half a minute, then told him "sir, i'm not interested". And he said "you're not interested in helping children?"

I stared at him, and said: "in that case, no". I swear i almost blew my top at him. the audacity to try and weigh my social conscience with a donation! but he gave up and left. and since generalized sweeping comments seem fashionable to him, i'll just bet he's drawing a commission from the company that hired him for the mentioned charity he claims to help. just because he looks like he is.

in any case, these are my must-do's when i have leave/off.
1. ask army-mates on msn, at night, "shouldn't you be sleeping? you have work tomorrow"
2. gloat at the masses going home from work/school - "you must be tired!"

it's great to be on leave. i have a million things i want to do with that one day, and the day ends all too soon

started to pour heavily, dramatically, when it was time to go home today. i peered out of the window and reported that the floods outside have brought in crocodiles. everyone rolled their eyes. It WAS true, they just chose miserable truth and logic over imagination. and they were just lucky the floods cleared before they stepped outside.

complained to my army-mates, and nobody in particular, that life is about to descend into a monotony that will kill us all, slowly, but surely, in the coming months. to demonstrate this metaphorical murder of our souls and selves, i collapsed to the ground, writhing in muted trauma. expectedly my dramatic expression was not appreciated, as usual.

people lack imagination! they succumb to the cliche of the eye-roll; they are tempted by the safety in numbers; the arrogant powers of opinions they do not own, but stole from someone else. they are who they think they are, but are not. mirrors!

i think we need to be less afraid of falling. if life's gonna be full of pitfalls, then all we can do is learn to land better each time. you can fall into the gap, but don't fall into the cliche.

I paid special attention to my bunch of keys today; apart from the house, gate and letterbox key, there is this one other key that i have no idea what it's for. It has baffled me for the whole day. My best guess is that it leads to a secret wardrobe that enters a parallel world, or opens a letterbox with letters from a lover from the future, or a treasure chest hidden beneath one of the loose floorboards in my attic. Which may subsequently contain either ancient spanish treasure, or a board game where animals magically appear with each clue, or a gold ring I should fling into a flaming mountain, or a book of secrets, or a guitar Pick of Destiny, or an invitation to a wizarding school and a 12 1/2 inch wand, or coded numbers, or yet another key. To another secret location.

First I shall find my attic with the loose floorboards

I decided change is good. In the sense that any conscious change made by a person would be automatically confined within normal human instinct to 'change for the better', as they say. And hence when a person decides to change a facet of himself, or his life - even if it's to be a goth rocker or soul-less gym rat or intellectual snob - his decision is driven by the belief that it will fulfil some part of his life; or make him happier, so to speak. The want to change in itself is a positive sort of fuel in a person: in a sense change is always good then, in general. weird.

maybe change is good, then.

my mum received the terr0rist search pic in her handphone and my dad complains: "eh, why i don't have". and he says something to the effect of:

dad: eh, s1ngtel and starhub should send people free smses on National Day saying "Happy National Day!"
me and my mum: er but this terr0rist thing important mah
dad: National Day also important what

such is the priority list in the great scheme of things for my dad hahaha

The Daily Prophet

Sirius Black is on the loose. all Hippogriffs are being watched. Call the authorities if you spot him.

i'm starting to be terrified of weekends. the weekends that i expect so much of. the weekends where i'm supposed to regain some sanity and normalcy and semblance of life. and then it fails me.

i need to be with people who will talk to me, laugh with me; people as a safety net. in case i fall into the jaws of helplessness. the comfort and danger of the sounds in my head. and i realize the truth, that there're no such people around. you're more alone than you think you are

everytime i'm at the library i'm tempted to go up to the counter and tell them i want to volunteer as a librarian. dewey decimal system and all that. and i don't know what makes me want to- probably the way it gets me whenever i see Isaac Asimov books under I, or Saul Bellow under S, or TotalFilm magazines under F. Or maybe, i just like the library. it's a place that people go to without any obligation or real necessity; rather, just a simple want. and it's there where people - old or young, alone or with friends, school sweater or faded jeans, laptop or sketchpad - can just shut out the world and be. even the people who are there just to fall asleep on the couches with a book-in-hand-disguise have this weird right to be there. it's the whole idea of pullovers and too-cold-air-conditioning and books and interrupted silence and duskfall through the glass walls. but then i remember i owe the library quite some money and i think twice

it's the same way i think the best thing that happens to the nearby entertainment centre (or a mall that exhibits it's lack of entertainment) is the second hand book stall that lays out its tables, spreads out its books, and brings cheap reading to the masses. it's almost the right thing to do. especially when you manage to get good books that are not mystery novels or science fiction at 3 -for-10bucks. and all sorts of people are suddenly gathered, browsing; school-kids, bored dads, people looking for chinese stuff, mums buying children books, women buying 4 chick-lit books at a go, geeks buying how-to books, and people reading recipe books that are at least 10 years old. i think it's fascinating, yet mundane at the same time

i think i can always tell when i'm feeling weird from my bath proceedings; yesterday i forgot to bring my towel in, absently-mindedly pressed for shampoo twice, and body soap thrice. thrice! that's a new record in the field of Bathroom Psycho-analysis.

i hate reading books with the movie-version covers. For eg. about a boy. i'm reading NickHornby's About a Boy because its by hornby and cos i probably might like it and cos it may be good Hence the movie based on it. i'm not reading about a boy (starring hugh grant) , movie tie-in. exactly. i do not read movie tie-ins! it's not like i'm reading x-3, or stealth (the movie-tie-in books). this gives me a huge dilemma when it comes to atonement. i want to read it before i watch it but i can't be seen reading a keiraknightlymoviecover version of the book. (and i want to watch it not cos there's keira in it.) and i want to read it not because i'm jumping on the Best Picture Nominee bandwagon but because it's a good book by IanMcEwan. help. life is full of unsolvable issues.

in any case:

Person: what's about a boy about?..
me: ..a boy.

bad joke repeated many times to many Persons. although they usually miss the point and think it's a homosexual paedophilic novel, not "unlike" the previous book i was reading. which i described as a lesbian book so i guess, really, i asked for it. But really, i dont think there's a need to defend the dignity of say, Winterson, to them.

muahaha. hows that for an uncaring face. take that! i will rule the world! which reminds me i should get down to watching FightClub

ok looking back this is such an evil rant that i wrote on a whim. although i just told a friend today that whims are never really that forgivable because they probably spring from the tempted subconscious, hence there is intent anyway. maybe i should delete this post.

Nah

everyone likes to have answers: why this happens, what we should do, etc. and even answers as to why people are the way they are. i realize the hardest questions are those about yourself. because i can't tell the truth if i don't know it in the first place

that day i woke up in camp at night, (while doing orderly duty) and i swear i heard the rats having a squeaking conversation. which stopped once i rubbed the sleep from my eyes

Mollie: all right put your garbage here
Alfie: It's a potluck? how come no-one told me? I didn't bring anything
Roy: i told you last night. why don't we get cheese anymore
Mollie: nobody brings cheese to camp, roy
Alfie: Rats, someone's awake
Mollie: (squeak sqeak)
Roy: (squeak)

i kinda believe in horoscopes sometimes; today's said i would spend my time dreaming of bigger things. and i really was lying in bed doing that for an hour. or wait, did i create my own horoscope in my mind? its a self fulfiling prophecy.

anyway there are apparently so many things i wanna do. this this this this and that. wrote it down on a post-it with self-belief, though i know it'll probably end up like the hundreds that came before it: lost, and forgotten. story of my life i guess- dreams on post-its, torn off to make way for the next sheet.

at the very least this random entry will serve to remind me (during one of those self-indulgent nostalgic trips down the archives of this blog, probably) of the things i said i'll do, and if a search for this most recent Post-It ends up in failure, may it spark another in return

omg the syntax and bad phrasing ok forget it-

this is weird, and i dont like to declare infatuations easily, but, i think i'm in love with the girl in the macdonalds ad. hahahaha. and i think its cos her eyes tell a story. i know: i've known eyes that have told me stories; fairytales built on clouds. (till it rained) I tell everyone about people whose eyes tell stories, and they laugh it off most of the time

At the lift lobby downstairs there was this balding man who was visibly agitated because of how slow the lift was taking to arrive - he kept muttering and jabbing at the lift button. when the lift arrived, i glanced at this woman who gave me a raised-eyebrow-look ("are you sure?"), and entered the lift with this man. In the span of the 8 storeys he travelled,

he launched into this whole tirade about how "lifts are slow, traffic lights are slow, everything is slow and only prices go up. i call this mahbowtan ah. what is this gahmen doing the Dpm only care about overseas overseas only go suzhou to look at pretty girls..." etc etc etc x 10 at very fast speed.

my first true slice of political frustration. cool! i was blown away

I sleep quite a lot lately. it's not much of a remedy, but it'll do for now. It's escapism in its simplest form; a way to keep the ghost of memories at bay, at night, when the only sounds are those in your head