I have five minutes. Going to make it really quick. No luxury of blogging at my own leisurely pace these days.
1. Still dis-satisfied with how much I've grown this year, as a person. Resolve to deconstruct and build from the bottom up come ORD. Wish I was a better person.
2. My NS course still as busy as bacteria on warm and moist agar, but having a h*ll (Christmas ain't over yet) lot of fun. Think I'm seriously going to miss these crazy, hectic days of working alongside my friends.
3. Still single, despite numerous advertisements on the SDU website. Bevy of beauties from my fan club idolize me far too much to even consider a relationship realistically.
4. Glad that I have a small pessimistic streak, developed over the last year. Sure saved me from excessive heart burn yesterday. =(
5. Future still wobbly and uncertain. Staying or going? You try living for 2 years without any idea what the 3rd year (and thus the rest of your life) will bring.
6. Friends returning from overseas! Nothing much beats that.
That's all for now. Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or are things out of mind once they are out of sight?
Merry Christmas Eve to you, and I sure hope that even if you didn't manage to get all you wanted for Christmas, you will actually run out of paper and ink if you started listing down all the things that make you smile, things that you are thankful for. =)
Friday, December 24, 2004
Saturday, December 18, 2004
Musical Periods 2: Usher & Alicia
I know I like a song, when I listen to it loop more than five times in a row without flinching. If I can stomach it ten times in a row, well, then it's a pretty good song. If I can play it until every other single person in the room begs, threatens or forces me to please just skip to the next damn song, ahh, I've got a winner.
I've said it before, songs that somehow manage to cross cultural, language or geographical barriers, and simply just reach deep into me, immediately make it into my I-Pod playlist (the I-Pod itself I will buy when I have slaved away half my adult life and saved enough to keep all the creditors away). These songs are special to me, whether it be a trick of occasion or fate. And with pretty good reason, too.
There are very few things more innocent than childhood love. In a world where love often finds itself bedfellows with strange characters like greed, or envy, or lust even, innocent love is quite the rare find. Simply because almost all children lack the impurities we tend to acquire through life's journeys, the love they express is a reflection of their purity, and what can be sweeter than the nectar of selfless love?
Too young to understand, but old enough to appreciate
Empty of ulterior motive, but already overflowing with tenderness
Just how many things never depreciate
Yet childhood love does - priceless, timeless, blameless
Go listen to 'My Boo', and you'll understand. Meanwhile, I'll continue my search for the child within.
I've said it before, songs that somehow manage to cross cultural, language or geographical barriers, and simply just reach deep into me, immediately make it into my I-Pod playlist (the I-Pod itself I will buy when I have slaved away half my adult life and saved enough to keep all the creditors away). These songs are special to me, whether it be a trick of occasion or fate. And with pretty good reason, too.
There are very few things more innocent than childhood love. In a world where love often finds itself bedfellows with strange characters like greed, or envy, or lust even, innocent love is quite the rare find. Simply because almost all children lack the impurities we tend to acquire through life's journeys, the love they express is a reflection of their purity, and what can be sweeter than the nectar of selfless love?
Too young to understand, but old enough to appreciate
Empty of ulterior motive, but already overflowing with tenderness
Just how many things never depreciate
Yet childhood love does - priceless, timeless, blameless
Go listen to 'My Boo', and you'll understand. Meanwhile, I'll continue my search for the child within.
Smiling
I'm back! Tada!
For the people I haven't told, well, I'm on course! It's known as EOAC, officially Engineer Officer Advance Course, but unofficially End Of Army Course.
It's true! My term's somehow ending, and the end is in sight!
I haven't been so taxed and challenged in so, soooo long. Endless days of lectures, night projects that stretch till 5am (with presentations in the morning at 8.30am!), and heaviest to bear of all, the responsibility of being an officer when I do return for my reservist... but it's pure, distilled fun! After a year, I'm finally reunited with my army buddies who were cadets with me, and though the going is tough, this is really the time when memories are made to be cherished!
Am I making sense? Haha, forgive me for this poorly worded and off the cuff blog, it's 3.30am on a Saturday morning, and my clock hasn't re-adjusted.
Well, I'm off to rush Christmas cards (again). Forgive me if I haven't had the time to call or message or email you recently! I was a worm before, but now, hey, I'm a busy worm!
=)
(p.s.... thanks to you guys, who cheered me up when i needed it. you know who you are!)
For the people I haven't told, well, I'm on course! It's known as EOAC, officially Engineer Officer Advance Course, but unofficially End Of Army Course.
It's true! My term's somehow ending, and the end is in sight!
I haven't been so taxed and challenged in so, soooo long. Endless days of lectures, night projects that stretch till 5am (with presentations in the morning at 8.30am!), and heaviest to bear of all, the responsibility of being an officer when I do return for my reservist... but it's pure, distilled fun! After a year, I'm finally reunited with my army buddies who were cadets with me, and though the going is tough, this is really the time when memories are made to be cherished!
Am I making sense? Haha, forgive me for this poorly worded and off the cuff blog, it's 3.30am on a Saturday morning, and my clock hasn't re-adjusted.
Well, I'm off to rush Christmas cards (again). Forgive me if I haven't had the time to call or message or email you recently! I was a worm before, but now, hey, I'm a busy worm!
=)
(p.s.... thanks to you guys, who cheered me up when i needed it. you know who you are!)
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Gambling
It's a curious thing. I've just showered, its nice and cool, but I'm sweating. And not from any strenuous physical activity, but sweating just from reading one short paragraph.
There's a familiar fear gripping me, right this very moment. I recognize it from months ago, and although I have not made its acquaintance for some time now, it will be much longer before I forget what this fear tastes like. It's the fear of suddenly screwing up, the fear of things sliding so quickly out of control, the fear that this present moment is no dream but here to stay.
Whoever would have thought loving someone would be so difficult?
I told myself once no more making the same mistakes, no more sitting alone in the dark regretting saying that one stupid thing, doing (or not doing) that one stupid thing. Yet here I am, back at this same old crossroads, wishing I didn't have to be here. Again.
Love, in the end, is akin to gambling. If you play small, you only win small, so why even bother trying? Yet if you play big, yes, you stand to win it all, but the unfortunate alternate path is just as easy to tread down. Skill plays a significant portion, yet still pays humble homage to pure luck. At the end of the day, only the bold-hearted and the foolish remain to play, while the timid, fragile players have all left.
You know, I don't know what I'm writing anymore. Mind's screwed.
Good night. Normal transmission will resume after reboot.
There's a familiar fear gripping me, right this very moment. I recognize it from months ago, and although I have not made its acquaintance for some time now, it will be much longer before I forget what this fear tastes like. It's the fear of suddenly screwing up, the fear of things sliding so quickly out of control, the fear that this present moment is no dream but here to stay.
Whoever would have thought loving someone would be so difficult?
I told myself once no more making the same mistakes, no more sitting alone in the dark regretting saying that one stupid thing, doing (or not doing) that one stupid thing. Yet here I am, back at this same old crossroads, wishing I didn't have to be here. Again.
Love, in the end, is akin to gambling. If you play small, you only win small, so why even bother trying? Yet if you play big, yes, you stand to win it all, but the unfortunate alternate path is just as easy to tread down. Skill plays a significant portion, yet still pays humble homage to pure luck. At the end of the day, only the bold-hearted and the foolish remain to play, while the timid, fragile players have all left.
You know, I don't know what I'm writing anymore. Mind's screwed.
Good night. Normal transmission will resume after reboot.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Fables 2: Stones
Two monks (there must obviously be an abundance of them at the same place these fables originate) came across this garden, littered with the prettiest of stones.
Monk Number Three (for Monks Number One and Number Two are still crossing the river) excitedly exclaimed that they should take full advantage of the rare fortune of chancing upon such a magical garden, and gather the most enchanting stones. Monk Number Four readily agreed, and they set upon the garden with great fervor.
Soon it was clear to them that it would be better to split up, for it would take far less time to cover the whole garden. After agreeing to meet back at the temple after a specified time, they each went their separate ways.
After an hour, however, Monk Number Three was close to exhuastion. His bag bulged with pretty stones, for he was picking up almost every stone he came across. Typically, he would stop to examine a stone that caught his eye, but finding it too difficult to decide whether to keep it or not, he would simply add the stone to his collection and move on.
Finally, upon the arrival of the specified hour, Monk Number Three threw his bag on the ground with disappointment. "I'll never be able to carry all this back to the temple!" he exclaimed. Sorely, he turned and headed for the temple, with every intention of seeking help to transport his valuable stones.
Imagine his surprise when he reached the temple and found Monk Number Four already there!
"Why, Monk Number Four, I do not see your bag of stones anywhere about you. Did you manage to bring back all the stones you wanted?"
Smiling, Monk Number Four reached into his pocket and withdrew three exquisite stones, beautiful in their own right but similar to the other stones in the garden.
Incredulous, Monk Number Three asked, "Is that all you brought back? There were countless stones of beauty, and you only brought back three?"
Serenely, Monk Number Four said, "I figured that I would never be able to bring back every single stone I desired. The choice was difficult, but I chose the stones that I thought were the most valuable to me, and brought them back.
"Where are your stones, by the way?"
Monk Number Three (for Monks Number One and Number Two are still crossing the river) excitedly exclaimed that they should take full advantage of the rare fortune of chancing upon such a magical garden, and gather the most enchanting stones. Monk Number Four readily agreed, and they set upon the garden with great fervor.
Soon it was clear to them that it would be better to split up, for it would take far less time to cover the whole garden. After agreeing to meet back at the temple after a specified time, they each went their separate ways.
After an hour, however, Monk Number Three was close to exhuastion. His bag bulged with pretty stones, for he was picking up almost every stone he came across. Typically, he would stop to examine a stone that caught his eye, but finding it too difficult to decide whether to keep it or not, he would simply add the stone to his collection and move on.
Finally, upon the arrival of the specified hour, Monk Number Three threw his bag on the ground with disappointment. "I'll never be able to carry all this back to the temple!" he exclaimed. Sorely, he turned and headed for the temple, with every intention of seeking help to transport his valuable stones.
Imagine his surprise when he reached the temple and found Monk Number Four already there!
"Why, Monk Number Four, I do not see your bag of stones anywhere about you. Did you manage to bring back all the stones you wanted?"
Smiling, Monk Number Four reached into his pocket and withdrew three exquisite stones, beautiful in their own right but similar to the other stones in the garden.
Incredulous, Monk Number Three asked, "Is that all you brought back? There were countless stones of beauty, and you only brought back three?"
Serenely, Monk Number Four said, "I figured that I would never be able to bring back every single stone I desired. The choice was difficult, but I chose the stones that I thought were the most valuable to me, and brought them back.
"Where are your stones, by the way?"
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