Denial
- is in his mid 20's - is a taurus male(all you perverts can leave now) - always craves for good music - will never put up naked pictures of himself here(all you perverts who are still here can finally get lost now) - will realise his dream of travelling around the world - will own properties and one of which is a resort by a beautiful beach - hopes to strike 1st division lottery someday so that he can bum professionally - is currently brain dead and will continue some other timeFriday, June 30, 2006
It's been exactly a year. Hello. ;)
Thursday, June 30, 2005
I had to post this up. Since I'd gotten into photography I've always dream of the perfect sunset I can possibly capture. This picture makes other sunsets look like lousy fucks. This, my benchmark, courtesy of David J. Nightingale at chromasia.com
Current track: Thievery Corporation - Lebanese Blonde
Current mood: Dry
These days anyone asks me How's life and I'll say Can't complain. Days are getting longer, food has lost its taste, colours seem duller. Some things that used to excite me, just don't anymore.
This evening I left The Building for the third time, once again knowing that most of the stuff I'd heard over the day was mostly ear-in-ear-out. Newbies like me ain't supposed to be this laid-back. Nevertheless I still hang. I don't really know. I don't quite care.
On the up side, I met up with Eftoni a few days back. Being the gorgeous and wonderful sweetheart she is, she treated me to a meal at Heeren's NYDC which I forgot why she owed me in the first place. She's one of the few most worthy company I had in a while. It's been such a pleasure to have her alongside life's journey so far, at least this much I'm sure of.
Female moans come alive late at night for the second evening already, even with my windows closed. When I open up, it fades away and I just can't seem to find out where it's coming from. I would be lying if I said I welcome audible sounds like that alongside crickets and toads throughout the middle of the night. Then again, I guess I should be thankful getting female moans than a male's. I always find it disturbing when most of the sex noises are coming from the dude. It's comparable to dating a female who farts louder than you do.
...
......
......... some links instead.
Tomorrow
Local blogosphere.
Joblo.com
I go there for the movie trailers mostly.
Astrology zone
Monthly horoscope forecasts for one's entertainment. Quite accurate though.
Hellotaitai
Guide to being a tai tai(A woman who has a wealthy husband).
... videos galore for viewing pleasure.
Ryoni.com
Definitely a guy's site. Not a pornographic one though.
Triumph, the insult comic dog
At it again, this time's at the Michael Jackson trial recently.
Torn/mime
Dumb-ass Jack Black lookalike.
A genius parrot.
An exemplary specimen of evolution.
I've got some fallin' to do...
Music video, which the title says it all.
... lastly, games.
Panda golf
I find this golf game addictive.
Goldminer
So is this game.
Crimson Room
A interactive Flash game. Can you escape from it?
Viridian room
A harder sequel to the Crimson room. Google for both walkthroughs if you get stuck, but if you do that, you're a pussy. :D
*fart*
Friday, May 13, 2005
Current track: Erasure - Don't say you love me
Current mood: Calm and collected
Had a weekend getaway a fortnight ago at the neighbouring country's capital, I'd posted more stunning night pictures of Petronas Towers and the roadtrip but my camera's hardware was fucked on the second day, leaving me utterly disappointed as I was looking forward to do up a great first travel blogging experience with images.
______________
Nevertheless, to kick it off, we took a 6.30pm first class Transtar coach that left me speechless throughout.
Get this: imagine a huge comfortable leather chair, control panel on my left that activates a multiple internal massage system, in front of me my very own LCD plasma screen that features a wide selection of video games and movies of different genres and languages. There was even an on-board attendant who served dinner and hot teh tarik later. I could sense people in other coaches looking at ours in God-awesome envy. After My boss's daughter and Van Helsing, we were at the border gantry of Kuala Lumpur.
We alighted at some brightly lit shopping centre and took a cab to the Renaissance. Looking at it overall, a five-star hotel like this didn't really impress me much, especially if a gay club called Cream was just two vehicles length away from the main entrance.
After dropping off the bags at the hotel room, I realised that its been quite a while since the last time I travelled, which was three years back to NZ. First thing I need to do is hook up with some exotic foreign babe and get her back to the room, I thought, then shook it off. My drifter fantasies are persistent but impotent.
______________
Two things I love: Waking up in a hotel, and their complimentary breakfast buffet, which means that I'm with little in the way of real responsibilities and having a chef do you up a personalised omelette is just the way to enjoy life la, huh. A bonus would be a butler whom I can slap.
I throw open the hotel shades and it’s Good Morning Kuala Lumpur. Strong sunlight and a refreshing panoramic view of the city with various skyscrapers seemingly trying to outstretch each other skywards but alas, the glorious Twin Towers sneering them all. Looking down on the city, you got the sensation you could push a button up here and make things explode down there.
By noon, we were at KLCC(which is the shopping centre at the foot of the Towers) hanging out which then I noticed there were not only gays at clubs alone, they're virtually everywhere, hanging out in groups like herds of cows all over the green. What's worst is that they have no dress sense; one middle-aged man was wearing a pink polo tee, a pink beret, greyish-white faded-out army-patterned berms and lousy slippers which you know you can get for less than twenty bucks at a night market back home.
My cousins(who were born and bred in Malacca) filled me in about the local scene and culture; things like the only people that work out here were gays, that locals were daring and readily confrontational especially those who had backing from their parents who had status and power, and how dangerous it would be if we were to take a cheap coach and arrive at the central bus station with addicts waiting to rob anyone to trade for dope.
______________
People at home drive with a sense of entitlement, people here drive with a sense of opportunism. I can't explain to you how different but it just is.
We commuted around in cabs for most despite our hotel being smacked right in the middle of town. And surprisingly, even though shopping centres and streets were much more packed than the city streets at home on the weekend, everywhere is much cleaner and better smelling than I expected.
Every restaurant/eating place we dined at, each meal filling up the entire table like Roman Emperor style. The food was generally great tasting such that we gorged like convicts just outta prison, also inclusive of the fact that it was much cheaper than our ridiculously over-priced foodcourts back home.
Drinking was on the itinery every night and even met some fellow countrymen while at it. Amongst them all, Bar Savana(which I think is associated with the Indochine group) ranks high with the oh-my-gorgeous babes and their mature crowd partying non-stop throughout the night. The pub-club BarFly left me the most impression with the DJ's technical ability and his selected tracks. But strangely though, alotta people there do not really know how to dance well, and you know what they say about people who can't dance for shit. *grin*
The rest of our time was spent chilling out at our cosy hotel lounge area called Mezzo playing pool and drinking. Either that, we just lazed in our rooms watching free cable, occasionally bothering the Concierge for our needs.(And I meant stuff like cigarettes for the cousins and getting their laundry done.)
One thing that disturbed me though. After clubbing hours on the Monday morning 3 am, there were gays flooding the clubs after the crowd made their way out, like there was somekinda private party going on in there or something. We tried probing and insisting on entering the clubs but some club personnel wouldn't let us in, even begging us not to when we abused our hotel guests status at Cream. Just WTF is going on in there? Mass orgy?
______________
The last day of my trip turned out to be not very different from the first; both were somewhat interesting experiences. I dozed off on the homeward bound coach and was shortly awaken to a moan from my eldest cousin. When I gave him a ridiculed look, I realised he was as pale as the moon. Instinctly it should be the chilli prawns he ate before the ride and left uncontrollable shit in his pants.
As you should already guessed, it was in liquid form. It got so bad that it dripped onto the floor and soon there were a few stinking yellowish streams flowing to the back of the bus. I felt very sorry for him and the people sitting behind us as we were sitting in the middle of the coach and there were no windows. I advanced to the driver and requested for a short interval at the nearest toilet stop. When the bus came to a still, every single passenger seated behind us while minding the disgusting streaks of man-waste juice, unbearably rushed down the vehicle to get some fresh oxygen.
Later at the customs he called a cab to fetch us from further embarrassment. It's not the first time something like this happened to him in my presence, which leave me and his brothers to wonder what else karma has installed for him after these, since he doesn't humble himself or stop making himself look good at the expense of people around him.
______________
Break's over and back to the real world. I shouldn't have gone on this trip but I really needed some time off, besides the fact that it was already planned a few months beforehand and also almost fully sponsored.
I’m an “Ends-Justify-The-Means” kind of guy, you see. I’m also a “Socks-Should-Match-The-Shoes-Not-The-Pants” kind of guy, but that’s another story my friend.
P/s: And if you still really don't know, it's such that they say people who can't dance, aren't good in bed either.
Current mood: Calm and collected
Had a weekend getaway a fortnight ago at the neighbouring country's capital, I'd posted more stunning night pictures of Petronas Towers and the roadtrip but my camera's hardware was fucked on the second day, leaving me utterly disappointed as I was looking forward to do up a great first travel blogging experience with images.
______________
Nevertheless, to kick it off, we took a 6.30pm first class Transtar coach that left me speechless throughout.
Get this: imagine a huge comfortable leather chair, control panel on my left that activates a multiple internal massage system, in front of me my very own LCD plasma screen that features a wide selection of video games and movies of different genres and languages. There was even an on-board attendant who served dinner and hot teh tarik later. I could sense people in other coaches looking at ours in God-awesome envy. After My boss's daughter and Van Helsing, we were at the border gantry of Kuala Lumpur.
We alighted at some brightly lit shopping centre and took a cab to the Renaissance. Looking at it overall, a five-star hotel like this didn't really impress me much, especially if a gay club called Cream was just two vehicles length away from the main entrance.
After dropping off the bags at the hotel room, I realised that its been quite a while since the last time I travelled, which was three years back to NZ. First thing I need to do is hook up with some exotic foreign babe and get her back to the room, I thought, then shook it off. My drifter fantasies are persistent but impotent.
______________
Two things I love: Waking up in a hotel, and their complimentary breakfast buffet, which means that I'm with little in the way of real responsibilities and having a chef do you up a personalised omelette is just the way to enjoy life la, huh. A bonus would be a butler whom I can slap.
I throw open the hotel shades and it’s Good Morning Kuala Lumpur. Strong sunlight and a refreshing panoramic view of the city with various skyscrapers seemingly trying to outstretch each other skywards but alas, the glorious Twin Towers sneering them all. Looking down on the city, you got the sensation you could push a button up here and make things explode down there.
By noon, we were at KLCC(which is the shopping centre at the foot of the Towers) hanging out which then I noticed there were not only gays at clubs alone, they're virtually everywhere, hanging out in groups like herds of cows all over the green. What's worst is that they have no dress sense; one middle-aged man was wearing a pink polo tee, a pink beret, greyish-white faded-out army-patterned berms and lousy slippers which you know you can get for less than twenty bucks at a night market back home.
My cousins(who were born and bred in Malacca) filled me in about the local scene and culture; things like the only people that work out here were gays, that locals were daring and readily confrontational especially those who had backing from their parents who had status and power, and how dangerous it would be if we were to take a cheap coach and arrive at the central bus station with addicts waiting to rob anyone to trade for dope.
______________
People at home drive with a sense of entitlement, people here drive with a sense of opportunism. I can't explain to you how different but it just is.
We commuted around in cabs for most despite our hotel being smacked right in the middle of town. And surprisingly, even though shopping centres and streets were much more packed than the city streets at home on the weekend, everywhere is much cleaner and better smelling than I expected.
Every restaurant/eating place we dined at, each meal filling up the entire table like Roman Emperor style. The food was generally great tasting such that we gorged like convicts just outta prison, also inclusive of the fact that it was much cheaper than our ridiculously over-priced foodcourts back home.
Drinking was on the itinery every night and even met some fellow countrymen while at it. Amongst them all, Bar Savana(which I think is associated with the Indochine group) ranks high with the oh-my-gorgeous babes and their mature crowd partying non-stop throughout the night. The pub-club BarFly left me the most impression with the DJ's technical ability and his selected tracks. But strangely though, alotta people there do not really know how to dance well, and you know what they say about people who can't dance for shit. *grin*
The rest of our time was spent chilling out at our cosy hotel lounge area called Mezzo playing pool and drinking. Either that, we just lazed in our rooms watching free cable, occasionally bothering the Concierge for our needs.(And I meant stuff like cigarettes for the cousins and getting their laundry done.)
One thing that disturbed me though. After clubbing hours on the Monday morning 3 am, there were gays flooding the clubs after the crowd made their way out, like there was somekinda private party going on in there or something. We tried probing and insisting on entering the clubs but some club personnel wouldn't let us in, even begging us not to when we abused our hotel guests status at Cream. Just WTF is going on in there? Mass orgy?
______________
The last day of my trip turned out to be not very different from the first; both were somewhat interesting experiences. I dozed off on the homeward bound coach and was shortly awaken to a moan from my eldest cousin. When I gave him a ridiculed look, I realised he was as pale as the moon. Instinctly it should be the chilli prawns he ate before the ride and left uncontrollable shit in his pants.
As you should already guessed, it was in liquid form. It got so bad that it dripped onto the floor and soon there were a few stinking yellowish streams flowing to the back of the bus. I felt very sorry for him and the people sitting behind us as we were sitting in the middle of the coach and there were no windows. I advanced to the driver and requested for a short interval at the nearest toilet stop. When the bus came to a still, every single passenger seated behind us while minding the disgusting streaks of man-waste juice, unbearably rushed down the vehicle to get some fresh oxygen.
Later at the customs he called a cab to fetch us from further embarrassment. It's not the first time something like this happened to him in my presence, which leave me and his brothers to wonder what else karma has installed for him after these, since he doesn't humble himself or stop making himself look good at the expense of people around him.
______________
Break's over and back to the real world. I shouldn't have gone on this trip but I really needed some time off, besides the fact that it was already planned a few months beforehand and also almost fully sponsored.
I’m an “Ends-Justify-The-Means” kind of guy, you see. I’m also a “Socks-Should-Match-The-Shoes-Not-The-Pants” kind of guy, but that’s another story my friend.
P/s: And if you still really don't know, it's such that they say people who can't dance, aren't good in bed either.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Current track: Don Richmond - Bent
Current mantra: What kind of people would like this kind of people?
THAT KIND OF PEOPLE!
(Courtesy of Lisa and Jiat, inspired from a little less conversation.)
Over dinner with a couple of us lately, my friend was telling us how impressed she was of a girl's boyfriend at some other dinner gathering she had recently, which that guy took the initiative to wipe their forks, spoons and knives of all the four users around the table at a non-classy diner.
That guy wasn't a clean freak, just really sweet and considerate as my friend thought. Or maybe he really was being considerate about himself and his girlfriend's hygiene(?), but (I'd think) instead of wiping just only his and his girl, which it might seem inappropriate in front of the other two, he wiped all four's altogether.
I thought he was a freak. It was just simply unnecessary. An online friend agreed with me, also added that it's not as if it's some road side stall unless you can see some actual dirt on it. Or he worked there before and knew how their dishwashing could get.
Either that or his actions are for her benefit; it would create envy towards her which in turn, the girlfriend would be proud to have a boyfriend like him.
Or maybe it's for his benefit; it's for her benefit without her realising that the whole picture was in fact, deliberate to make him look good.
OR maybe, I'm just thinking too much into the whole thing.
... anyway.
I'm done with a couple of movies.
The theatrical version of Return of the King was over 3 hours long, so you can imagine how long the uncut extended version was. If you guessed 58 hours, you’d be right. Gosh, it’s as if they filmed every single second of these characters’ lives. If you’d always wanted to watch the wizard read an entire book of spells, or an orc finding fresh meat in Mordor, or the elf apply conditioner to his hair, you can now.
In the mood for love, Lost in Translation and Sideways are like what foreplay is to most females for the first time with someone new; it will be a drag if it doesn't hit the spots where matter.
Robots and Lemony Snicket's... well, watch them and judge yourself. Interesting, sure. Watch it again, nah. Sure, I'd known others who find them pretty good but it’s all a matter of personal taste eventually. One man's poison is another man's medicine. What I love you may hate, what I see may blind you and what I eat may give you horrible gas.
Hitch was neither very funny nor romantic. Nevertheless the movie's entertainment value might be worth adding to your collection of DVDs. The downside to watching romantic comedies is that they're mostly made for women, so in the end the guy turns out to be some macho-on-the-outside, faggot-on-the-inside hybrid who buys flowers and plans creative dates and apologizes profusely.
Call me shallow but I like to be lightly entertained when I visit the movies, or as opposed to a scary show or a senseless flick, or yet another typical, if not predictable romantic comedy.
On another note, I caught the movie alone (I do not have to explain myself here) so there wasn't any aftermath hussle that I had to deal with, as compared to the rest of the guys with their dates in the cinema.
"Why can't you treat me like that?"
"Why can't you do nicer things for me?"
"Why can't you be Eva Mendes?" I felt like exclaiming out loud.
Current mantra: What kind of people would like this kind of people?
THAT KIND OF PEOPLE!
(Courtesy of Lisa and Jiat, inspired from a little less conversation.)
Over dinner with a couple of us lately, my friend was telling us how impressed she was of a girl's boyfriend at some other dinner gathering she had recently, which that guy took the initiative to wipe their forks, spoons and knives of all the four users around the table at a non-classy diner.
That guy wasn't a clean freak, just really sweet and considerate as my friend thought. Or maybe he really was being considerate about himself and his girlfriend's hygiene(?), but (I'd think) instead of wiping just only his and his girl, which it might seem inappropriate in front of the other two, he wiped all four's altogether.
I thought he was a freak. It was just simply unnecessary. An online friend agreed with me, also added that it's not as if it's some road side stall unless you can see some actual dirt on it. Or he worked there before and knew how their dishwashing could get.
Either that or his actions are for her benefit; it would create envy towards her which in turn, the girlfriend would be proud to have a boyfriend like him.
Or maybe it's for his benefit; it's for her benefit without her realising that the whole picture was in fact, deliberate to make him look good.
OR maybe, I'm just thinking too much into the whole thing.
... anyway.
I'm done with a couple of movies.
The theatrical version of Return of the King was over 3 hours long, so you can imagine how long the uncut extended version was. If you guessed 58 hours, you’d be right. Gosh, it’s as if they filmed every single second of these characters’ lives. If you’d always wanted to watch the wizard read an entire book of spells, or an orc finding fresh meat in Mordor, or the elf apply conditioner to his hair, you can now.
In the mood for love, Lost in Translation and Sideways are like what foreplay is to most females for the first time with someone new; it will be a drag if it doesn't hit the spots where matter.
Robots and Lemony Snicket's... well, watch them and judge yourself. Interesting, sure. Watch it again, nah. Sure, I'd known others who find them pretty good but it’s all a matter of personal taste eventually. One man's poison is another man's medicine. What I love you may hate, what I see may blind you and what I eat may give you horrible gas.
Hitch was neither very funny nor romantic. Nevertheless the movie's entertainment value might be worth adding to your collection of DVDs. The downside to watching romantic comedies is that they're mostly made for women, so in the end the guy turns out to be some macho-on-the-outside, faggot-on-the-inside hybrid who buys flowers and plans creative dates and apologizes profusely.
Call me shallow but I like to be lightly entertained when I visit the movies, or as opposed to a scary show or a senseless flick, or yet another typical, if not predictable romantic comedy.
On another note, I caught the movie alone (I do not have to explain myself here) so there wasn't any aftermath hussle that I had to deal with, as compared to the rest of the guys with their dates in the cinema.
"Why can't you treat me like that?"
"Why can't you do nicer things for me?"
"Why can't you be Eva Mendes?" I felt like exclaiming out loud.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Current track: Everything but the girl - Missing
Current mood: Slightly jaded
Check out this photo blog. It has the most amazing pictures. Daily uploads even!
Mind-blowing photos are part of the reason I'm hooked onto photography. Most of the days I get lucky capturing pleasing images, for others I spaz out trying to rush out the digital camera, miss the moment completely or recieve unpleasant surprises later that night when I plug the camera into the com.
A friend asked me if the photos on my blog were taken from other sites. I got a lil' annoyed but then again I didn't copyright my pictures. So anyway for the record, other than the photos of Europe (Oct 7th) and the sunset ones (Nov 16th, Aug 25th), along with the bowl of laksa (July 18th) and that interesting Prada building in Japan (Sep 4th), the rest of the photos you see on this blog here are produced by me and my Casio. Maybe I should start adding labels.
Even then, there aren't many people whom I can share them with. After minor editing, my collection sit on this space and waits for a few visitors including me. I'm not sure about them but I get a few seconds of undescribable pleasure and feel somehow... sated everytime.
It’s a big deal to me, being sated. Sad but true. These days, anything simple that fills my appetite works for me.
Desperate Housewives works for me. Apart from the gorgeous Teri, Eva and Marcia (my favourite), they portray infidelity, marriage and single parenting with good humour and entertainment. Just when sometimes you wanna laugh at life itself, the show is a clear reflection of society nowadays. For one, that no matter how wrong it is to cheat on your partner, the fact is that alotta people still do.
So my cousin's girlfriend dropped me off near my place one Sunday morning after a night of clubbing with my cousins and their respective girlfriends. I was considerably high on alcohol but when I thought a hot shower would sober me up, instead it was her sudden confession.
Apparently she and her already-married boss kissed. She is attracted to his romancing ways, his nice and smooth sweet-talking voice and the fact that they can't have each other even if they want to. She has a great life and future ahead of her with my cousin whom she wants to marry, which that's what she wants but at the same time, she's also desiring her boss in that forbidden way which excites her.
The cab drove off. I sat near the bus stop for a moment and thought about things a while and came to the conclusion that there might be no wrong and right about such issues. They have became such a norm that there's virtually no classification anymore to what you have and don't have, what you can do and not do.
I shudder to think how the future might turn out to be. I'm the type of person whom I only wanna marry once. It's sometimes hard to swallow the fact that alotta people nowadays are actually harbouring thoughts of someone else filling in specific needs which their spouses can't, to the extend of even having affairs, probably bearing in mind that that these temporary thrills are often overlooked along with the damages and consequences that come after.
Above all, it seems that sense is taking over values.
You just can't be too sure about anything these days, can ya? Are times revolving too fast, or has evolved? If change is inevitable, do we have to adapt to what's necessary best for us? Can people be ever satisfied? Is believing in The Significant Other making no sense for one's well-being anymore, emotional or otherwise?
I picked myself up and walked home, leaving these questions alone. I can't finish this off for now, even with myself.
Current mood: Slightly jaded
Check out this photo blog. It has the most amazing pictures. Daily uploads even!
Mind-blowing photos are part of the reason I'm hooked onto photography. Most of the days I get lucky capturing pleasing images, for others I spaz out trying to rush out the digital camera, miss the moment completely or recieve unpleasant surprises later that night when I plug the camera into the com.
A friend asked me if the photos on my blog were taken from other sites. I got a lil' annoyed but then again I didn't copyright my pictures. So anyway for the record, other than the photos of Europe (Oct 7th) and the sunset ones (Nov 16th, Aug 25th), along with the bowl of laksa (July 18th) and that interesting Prada building in Japan (Sep 4th), the rest of the photos you see on this blog here are produced by me and my Casio. Maybe I should start adding labels.
Even then, there aren't many people whom I can share them with. After minor editing, my collection sit on this space and waits for a few visitors including me. I'm not sure about them but I get a few seconds of undescribable pleasure and feel somehow... sated everytime.
It’s a big deal to me, being sated. Sad but true. These days, anything simple that fills my appetite works for me.
Desperate Housewives works for me. Apart from the gorgeous Teri, Eva and Marcia (my favourite), they portray infidelity, marriage and single parenting with good humour and entertainment. Just when sometimes you wanna laugh at life itself, the show is a clear reflection of society nowadays. For one, that no matter how wrong it is to cheat on your partner, the fact is that alotta people still do.
So my cousin's girlfriend dropped me off near my place one Sunday morning after a night of clubbing with my cousins and their respective girlfriends. I was considerably high on alcohol but when I thought a hot shower would sober me up, instead it was her sudden confession.
Apparently she and her already-married boss kissed. She is attracted to his romancing ways, his nice and smooth sweet-talking voice and the fact that they can't have each other even if they want to. She has a great life and future ahead of her with my cousin whom she wants to marry, which that's what she wants but at the same time, she's also desiring her boss in that forbidden way which excites her.
The cab drove off. I sat near the bus stop for a moment and thought about things a while and came to the conclusion that there might be no wrong and right about such issues. They have became such a norm that there's virtually no classification anymore to what you have and don't have, what you can do and not do.
I shudder to think how the future might turn out to be. I'm the type of person whom I only wanna marry once. It's sometimes hard to swallow the fact that alotta people nowadays are actually harbouring thoughts of someone else filling in specific needs which their spouses can't, to the extend of even having affairs, probably bearing in mind that that these temporary thrills are often overlooked along with the damages and consequences that come after.
Above all, it seems that sense is taking over values.
You just can't be too sure about anything these days, can ya? Are times revolving too fast, or has evolved? If change is inevitable, do we have to adapt to what's necessary best for us? Can people be ever satisfied? Is believing in The Significant Other making no sense for one's well-being anymore, emotional or otherwise?
I picked myself up and walked home, leaving these questions alone. I can't finish this off for now, even with myself.
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Current track: Engima - Sadness
Current mood: Numb
I used to go to clubs with a certain level of expectation and occasionally think "My future girlfriend might be here". I don't think that anymore.
As a product in today’s competitive dating market, I'm not considered exactly as one flying off the shelves; I'm not especially tall nor good looking but just pleasant enough to pass off, which I'm just thankful that my past partners actually saw past my cheek fats and big butt.
Ok, maybe there might be a chance that something magical might happen, but any of that coming from clubs are relatively low. I think that people, especially women, who club mostly to have fun and, more or less, aren't expecting to meet anyone decent in dim, revolving/flashing lights. It's just not the right place, no?
So now I expect the standard usual, most importantly is enjoying the company I'm with other than the music, drinks and dance, the occasional puke-infested toilet cubicles in the Gents, the long queues stretching out of the Ladies that makes you wonder if each of them were in the middle of playing Kasparov inside. Or shameless people outrageously flirting/dirty dancing and when the bright lights go up for a few seconds, the realisation that the "hot chick" is actually --- not.
Recently I suspect I'm cursed with a complete lack of empathy, or even worse. Quite often I can't imagine what other people are thinking or feeling. And when I can, but many times purposely avoid engaging them so I can abstain dealing with any emotional discomfort.
As a result, I haven't been completely honest to myself in more ways than one, thus in a way affecting my blogging habits and intervals. Other than reasons which I must do this, it frusts me sometimes not able to write freely about the things and thoughts I want on this space here.
It gets worse and worse. I wish problems could be cleanly solved, like if it was just a simple matter of bribing the right person or burning down the right bungalow. But no, this is never the way of things, not these days.
Escapism has always been a big problem for me, but I’ll continue to cling to it. More often than not, I'm lucky enough to avoid getting myself into any situations I cannot extricate myself from, but this gets harder and harder as I get older. Most of the problems I’ve had are the kind you can get away from in a taxi, or in several cases an airplane, but with each passing birthday this becomes more untenable.
Learning to live with bad decisions, all part of the fun of being an adult.
Couldn't help staying up late, and when I snooze off weird dreams occur. But not like I'm the type that goes to bed early anyway; I blame it on sex, vodka, coke, blockbuster, cable TV, midnight screenings, 24-hour eating places, singing along to Lisa Loeb's Stay like an idiot, exam finals, women dancing on platforms and bar tops, Internet/IM/online games, the girl who won’t hang up, the book you can’t put down, and the irrefutable fact that staying up is always more fun than waking up.
Current mood: Numb
I used to go to clubs with a certain level of expectation and occasionally think "My future girlfriend might be here". I don't think that anymore.
As a product in today’s competitive dating market, I'm not considered exactly as one flying off the shelves; I'm not especially tall nor good looking but just pleasant enough to pass off, which I'm just thankful that my past partners actually saw past my cheek fats and big butt.
Ok, maybe there might be a chance that something magical might happen, but any of that coming from clubs are relatively low. I think that people, especially women, who club mostly to have fun and, more or less, aren't expecting to meet anyone decent in dim, revolving/flashing lights. It's just not the right place, no?
So now I expect the standard usual, most importantly is enjoying the company I'm with other than the music, drinks and dance, the occasional puke-infested toilet cubicles in the Gents, the long queues stretching out of the Ladies that makes you wonder if each of them were in the middle of playing Kasparov inside. Or shameless people outrageously flirting/dirty dancing and when the bright lights go up for a few seconds, the realisation that the "hot chick" is actually --- not.
I'm a notcissist; I like looking and snapping at anything else other than myself.
Recently I suspect I'm cursed with a complete lack of empathy, or even worse. Quite often I can't imagine what other people are thinking or feeling. And when I can, but many times purposely avoid engaging them so I can abstain dealing with any emotional discomfort.
As a result, I haven't been completely honest to myself in more ways than one, thus in a way affecting my blogging habits and intervals. Other than reasons which I must do this, it frusts me sometimes not able to write freely about the things and thoughts I want on this space here.
It gets worse and worse. I wish problems could be cleanly solved, like if it was just a simple matter of bribing the right person or burning down the right bungalow. But no, this is never the way of things, not these days.
Escapism has always been a big problem for me, but I’ll continue to cling to it. More often than not, I'm lucky enough to avoid getting myself into any situations I cannot extricate myself from, but this gets harder and harder as I get older. Most of the problems I’ve had are the kind you can get away from in a taxi, or in several cases an airplane, but with each passing birthday this becomes more untenable.
Learning to live with bad decisions, all part of the fun of being an adult.
Couldn't help staying up late, and when I snooze off weird dreams occur. But not like I'm the type that goes to bed early anyway; I blame it on sex, vodka, coke, blockbuster, cable TV, midnight screenings, 24-hour eating places, singing along to Lisa Loeb's Stay like an idiot, exam finals, women dancing on platforms and bar tops, Internet/IM/online games, the girl who won’t hang up, the book you can’t put down, and the irrefutable fact that staying up is always more fun than waking up.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Current track: Ricky Martin feat. Meja - Private emotion
Current mood: Spick 'n span
Social life have been inactive of late. For one reason or another, I’ve been cruising on autopilot, more or less, in an empty blue sky. Every once in a while an indicator light will turn on, and I’ll put food in my belly or snap some flicks. But everything’s been humming along quietly.
Been to JB a couple of sundays back with mom, aunt, cousin and his friends. Main objective for me was a haircut and what turned out to be super cheap, was also super lousy; I still look the same, just decreased my hair volume. Never gonna get non-local cheap cuts again, dammit.
Just like me, my aunt was born in the year of the rooster. This year ain't our year as rooster year and roosters clash, so she sought some Feng Shui advice and found out that anything to do with dragon or the colour red is good for us. My mom even wanted to get me a red shirt preferably with a friggin' dragon on it. Very... ugh, beng-ish? I protested and in the end we compromised on red underwear.
Some other things that occurred recently were nothing short of ridiculous. I'd written in detail about them on this space but for certain reasons, I won't, In short, my cousin going on and on about his "charity fuck" and how I was suppose to have that one-night stand instead of him, a friend got into an accident with his convertible due to not learning his "lesson" previously, another friend called off her wedding engagement, my department went on strike against the company for a day and last but not least, my ex-girlfriend asking me to buy her a friggin' expensive vibrator.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
Current track: Jon Secada - Angel
Current quote:
"The universe had to come up with something to throw in your path, and almost any tough situation would do. What mattered was not what it was, as much as how you and your partner dealt with it. Under a crisis, we tend to reveal our true character, so we learn not only about the situation, but about ourselves as well."
"There were no right or wrong answers here -- if you or your partner chose to break things off, it was apparently because the relationship was not right for one or both of you. The universe wants you to use your time well, so if things unraveled, perhaps there was no real future for this relationship. Ah, dear Taurus, a relationship can seem perfect in just about every way yet have one fatal flaw embedded in it that only can be seen in the natural unfolding of events. If you broke up, you must try to be philosophical and take the long view."
The excerpt above was taken from www.astrologyzone.com for my December horoscope reading.
Happiness is fleeting. The euphoria of falling in love, finding your dream job, buying a nice pair of shoes… it fades quickly. But you can’t say the same about unhappiness. It tends to stick around for a very long time.
It's been a month since I pooped my thoughts on this space. During this period of time:
- I got a lot done. Found the meaning of life, developed cold fusion, invent a car machine that travels back and forth in time, and all that crap.
- had ups and downs, especially with friends. Life's like that; You win some, you lose some.
- had an amazing five hundred dollar self-made dinner at a chalet, X'mas eve family dinner at relative's and a birthday teppanyaki dinner at Crix's on the next day. These straight days of drinking is probably one of the top three highlights of my year.
- watched The Incredibiles, Kung Fu Hustle, National Treasure, I,Robot, House of Flying Daggers and Bourne Supremacy.
- been playing Need for Speed: Underground 2. Videogames are like time travel. It’s 6pm, then you blink and it’s three in the morning. Ironic that I can get my youth back from a machine that actually steals it.
- am still looking out for the extended version of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King on DVD. I am also figuring out which new brand of cologne to get as my Boss Elements Aqua is gonna dry out on me.
- was unsuccessful in getting a tan. I'm as fair as my butt cheeks.
- haven't been working out. My face is as fat as my butt cheeks.
- worked hard at improving myself for work and my efforts are starting to "pay off handsomely".
- developed a crush on a hot malay babe at work. She gave me a scented wedding invitation card to her sister's wedding which previously I was addicted to the smell. Someone suggested that the splendid aroma is actually a spell put onto me to keep me infatuated with her glorious beauty.
- still occasionally puzzled by women in general. What the hell are you females thinking sometimes? It just makes me want to grab you ladies by the shoulders and shake some sense into you, and maybe watch your boobs jiggle.
Last but not least, my condolences go out to the families of victims of the recent tsunamis in Asia. All I can say is that I'm thankful to be alive and away from the line of erm... water.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Current track: Imagination - Just an illusion
Current quote: "My luck is so bad that if I bought a cemetery, people would stop dying." - Ed Furgol
Haven't been snapping many pictures. Busy days and certain events. Ugh.
Things have been a strange mix of late. Like a bus which doesn't show up when you want to ride it and other times, a few of them appear at one go when you expect another ride. People and job offers, you name them, I'd probably got them here and there, then and now. Some crossed out already and others still on the waiting list. Some that I screwed up are beyond hope, others I dread to even think what's gonna happen next.
Hard to doze off at night recently. I slept like a war veteran with a conscience; Tossing and turning, occasional moans and breaking out in cold sweat, the whole six to eight. Pretty worned out from mostly anything and everything. Nevertheless, I still try to move on, looking to end the topsy-turvy year on a good note.
A couple of days back after browsing a few magazines on photography, I found myself sitting at PS's Times Bookshop facing the window panel overlooking the large summary of a typical late afternoon of Dhoby Ghaut area. I made myself comfortable and dazed for the longest time. There was a brief reflection, simple to complicated stuff, from the options for my dinner to choices I made in life. Other than that, most of the time just chilling and watching the world go by. Nature and its everlasting beauty is my constant source of inspiration. Simply magnificent.
Euphoria madness, non-chalant disappointments, estatic weariness, lonesome day ends, hopeful yet uncertain beginnings.
A strange mix of late indeed.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Current track: Everything But The Girl - I don't want to talk about it
Current quote: "The past is always a rebuke to the present" - Robert Penn Warren
I'm not a big fan of reality shows but some of their episodes turned out pretty interesting.
Just caught the America's top model 2 a few hours back and suddenly my mom did something to piss me off completely that I happened to miss the last part of the show when the judges decide who is eliminated from the final five girls. Went online straight after and searched for that particular episode summary only to discover that I haven't missed much.
Then I got tempted to read up on the next episode's and some parts of it hit me at the back of my head.
The four remaining girls, Yoanna, April, Shandi and Mercedes got some guys over together with some wine and stuff. Blah blah blah, the next scene we see is the guys leaving and getting kisses from all the girls. Shandi is in bed crying, saying she can’t believe she did what she did. The girls go over and comfort her while she says she had sex with one of the guys, therefore cheating on her boyfriend. Next day, Shandi is a little confused as to why nobody pulled her aside and let her know what she was doing.
For some reason I could related to Shandi's experience. Not that I cheated on someone nor had 3 gorgeous models pampering me(I wish for the latter though) but someone I know went through almost the same thing as Shandi.
Doing something wrong yet expecting someone to be around to tell them whats and whatnots? And cry?!
They struck a strange familiarity to me that I thought about things and later realised, the truth just simply paints itself even clearer than a thousand words.
Anyway, I don't get people these days. Everyone will mess up sometime or another but few fight against it after that. It's exceptionally difficult especially when it's your immediate circle of friends who do not help themselves, let alone listen to help. It was frustrating previously but I understand better now, therefore even though how much one tries, most people tend to learn through the hard way. What to do, life's a beach.
Nevertheless, I’m a big fan of spectacular sunsets. I rank them up there with glorious skies, magnificent scenaries and sensational cleavage.
Current quote: "The past is always a rebuke to the present" - Robert Penn Warren
I'm not a big fan of reality shows but some of their episodes turned out pretty interesting.
Just caught the America's top model 2 a few hours back and suddenly my mom did something to piss me off completely that I happened to miss the last part of the show when the judges decide who is eliminated from the final five girls. Went online straight after and searched for that particular episode summary only to discover that I haven't missed much.
Then I got tempted to read up on the next episode's and some parts of it hit me at the back of my head.
The four remaining girls, Yoanna, April, Shandi and Mercedes got some guys over together with some wine and stuff. Blah blah blah, the next scene we see is the guys leaving and getting kisses from all the girls. Shandi is in bed crying, saying she can’t believe she did what she did. The girls go over and comfort her while she says she had sex with one of the guys, therefore cheating on her boyfriend. Next day, Shandi is a little confused as to why nobody pulled her aside and let her know what she was doing.
For some reason I could related to Shandi's experience. Not that I cheated on someone nor had 3 gorgeous models pampering me(I wish for the latter though) but someone I know went through almost the same thing as Shandi.
Doing something wrong yet expecting someone to be around to tell them whats and whatnots? And cry?!
They struck a strange familiarity to me that I thought about things and later realised, the truth just simply paints itself even clearer than a thousand words.
Anyway, I don't get people these days. Everyone will mess up sometime or another but few fight against it after that. It's exceptionally difficult especially when it's your immediate circle of friends who do not help themselves, let alone listen to help. It was frustrating previously but I understand better now, therefore even though how much one tries, most people tend to learn through the hard way. What to do, life's a beach.
Nevertheless, I’m a big fan of spectacular sunsets. I rank them up there with glorious skies, magnificent scenaries and sensational cleavage.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Current track: Erasure - Don't say your love is killing me
Current mood: Sane
I'm employed! Other than some of you whom already knew, it's some Fortune 500 company at Shenton Way and that means it's friggin' formal wear all over again. *curses*
The interview was somewhat intimidating, yet surreal. I swear my direct superior, Patrick, sounds like Agent Smith. After he introduced himself upon first encounter, I was half-expecting him to greet me "Mister Anderson...". Two other people were in the same room, apparently his underlings which I couldn't think of any logical reason for their presence other than to maybe, assist him in seeking out and destroying me, Morpheus and the rest of the crew.
Was nervous at first till after a few questions later, he told me to take this like a normal conversation instead. He then tried to loose the tension with some really dumbass comments which I interpreted them as trying to joke, which obviously failing at it miserably. After his third attempt, I stared at the underlings, stunned, and then I looked around to see if I was on some hidden camera show.
After the rigmarole of the interrogation(You have to agree with me that most of it, if not all), he gave his basic lowdown on his expectations and a brief general insight into the company and such. He then asked me "Do you have any expectations?" Believe it or not, this is the first time I’ve ever been asked this question. I handled the interview pretty well by my standards so far and for that moment I got stuck there, like some obese sonovabeech at the mouth of the Black Hole waterslide at Fantasy Island.(Btw, does that theme park still exist?)
At the end of it all, he complimented me for my frankness and was pretty impressed too. In spite of knowing that it's gonna be waking up as early as 7 am everyday, I left the room beaming, also insisting to him that my name is Neo.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
Current track: [OST Chrono Cross] Radical Dreamers - Unstolen jewel
Current quote: "I like the reflection. Very clear and... yummy. It looks edible, like a choc bar." - my friend Joy, upon viewing the picture above.
Gosh, I hate it when there're opportunities to take potentially great-looking pictures and then, either hesitate for a bit or choose not to take them for some sudden reason which later I smack myself for not justifying my decision properly. Argh, missed two great shots so far, so much for procrastinating and regrets. Then again, everyone wants to live a life without regrets, right? Try putting that on for size.
It’s been more than a week-and-a-half since I’ve written a proper entry, but it feels like a year. I’m telling you, this whole notion of time being a steady, perfectly consistent quantity is nonsense. When a couple of minutes feels like an hour, that’s not you – it actually was an hour. Same for those weekends that seem to last only seconds. The clock lies all the friggin' time. You just don’t catch it, because time is one sneaky sonovabeech.
On the contrary, time has been flying by so quickly. These days people are simply different now as compared to say, a decade back. Getting older is really complicated and hard, if not hasty. By now I’ve grown into a wiser, more mature adult male with greater responsibilities and more sophisticated toiletries. (I can vouch for the toiletries part, but everything else in that sentence is subject to debate and severe ridicule.)
...
Ok, enough shit-shot for now. I gotta go wash my face.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Current track: Madonna - Material girl
Current mood: Letting the pictures paint my thousand words.
Sit back and chill, I do the fill.
Watching the world go by, you just make me fly.
Current mood: Letting the pictures paint my thousand words.
Sit back and chill, I do the fill.
Watching the world go by, you just make me fly.
It's all about the company you're with, and not the flesh nor beef.
Hit the beat, play the day, how long can it stay.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Cramps and churns.
Current track: Climie Fisher - Rise to the occasion
Current mood: Can I get anymore "higher" than this?
Warning: I didn't post any picture this time 'cause after, and if you choose to read this post, it'll give you "images" in your head which are adequate. If you can't take imaginative visuals or its aftermaths inducing from the written descriptives of my morning hangover experience below, I strongly advice you to skip this entry and go fly kite.
______________
So I suddenly woke up, still feeling high from last night. Mind-numbing music still stomping within me from last night's drinking session at O Bar. Still burping and feeling the alcohol within, I dragged myself to wash up. Never did I expect what's to come in the next 2 hours; a pukefest.
______________
First time round, so fast and furious that I was totally unprepared, standing there in the living room(toilet's in the kitchen) stunned for a few seconds while clenching my mouth tightly to prevent more from spilling out. I rushed to the toilet bowl while dirtying the floor and parts of my shirt and shorts. End result, brownish liquid along with assorted seaweed-and-jelly-like substance.
Feeling a lil' better, I took a glassful of water and cleaned up the plentiful spurts of mess on the floor. I then booted up the com and started playing Monopoly online(Don't even bother asking why 'cause I don't myself) and I thought it was the end of it...
I was so wrong.
______________
Second one, out came the water I just downed. Silly me thinking that water isn't good enough, I took a small cheese bread bun. Crix called and we talk cock a bit. I told him about the vomitting, the water and bread and as he enlightened me that I shouldn't even take anything 'cause the body's rejecting whatever I put in, my face emerged this ultra-horrified look while the other hand drifted to my tummy. Fuck, what have I done!
Turn on the television, Jaime's Kitchen was showing the cook preparing food. "Yes, yes, rub it in, asshole.", I said to it. I had just taken my rendition of the Last Supper and anticipating another throwing-up. Jesus and the rest of his disciples would have just look at me briefly and shake their heads, then continue watching TV.
______________
Third came, the pastry as expected. I love anything that goes with cheese and for a moment there was a tinge of sadness that my body's rejecting it. Having once bitten, I shy-ed away from mouthfuls even and took sips of water to wash down the icky acidic bits stuck in my throat, then proceeded to clear up the fucking-gross residue in the basin.
For some strange reason, I found the puking-feelbetter-feelbad-puke cycle kinda... good, especially after the first two. There’s something nice about knowing exactly how much something is going to suck, you know what I mean?
______________
Apparently it's like an offer; puke 3 get 1 free. The last one was greenish, like bile juice or something. Similar sight to the time which I got so drunk at Henry's place, waking up in the middle of the night filling the toilet bowl with an even greener grostesque than this, then hugged the toilet bowl to sleep.
______________
Having puked 4 times within the morning since 9 am, I still feel high and hungry, but intentionally waiting till later to munch on something light. It must be the world's worst hangover, ever. I bet I could make it into the Guinness fucking Book of Records if there was a chance any of the authorities saw this.
There’s sensory overload. Today was Nonsense-ory OverUnload (I unnecessarily capitalized the three letters in the hopes that you’d get the joke. If not, may Allah strike you down with a panadol tablet.)
______________
Note to self: Never, ever take Whiskey coke in large quantities 'cause you, can't, take, it.
Current mood: Can I get anymore "higher" than this?
Warning: I didn't post any picture this time 'cause after, and if you choose to read this post, it'll give you "images" in your head which are adequate. If you can't take imaginative visuals or its aftermaths inducing from the written descriptives of my morning hangover experience below, I strongly advice you to skip this entry and go fly kite.
______________
So I suddenly woke up, still feeling high from last night. Mind-numbing music still stomping within me from last night's drinking session at O Bar. Still burping and feeling the alcohol within, I dragged myself to wash up. Never did I expect what's to come in the next 2 hours; a pukefest.
______________
First time round, so fast and furious that I was totally unprepared, standing there in the living room(toilet's in the kitchen) stunned for a few seconds while clenching my mouth tightly to prevent more from spilling out. I rushed to the toilet bowl while dirtying the floor and parts of my shirt and shorts. End result, brownish liquid along with assorted seaweed-and-jelly-like substance.
Feeling a lil' better, I took a glassful of water and cleaned up the plentiful spurts of mess on the floor. I then booted up the com and started playing Monopoly online(Don't even bother asking why 'cause I don't myself) and I thought it was the end of it...
I was so wrong.
______________
Second one, out came the water I just downed. Silly me thinking that water isn't good enough, I took a small cheese bread bun. Crix called and we talk cock a bit. I told him about the vomitting, the water and bread and as he enlightened me that I shouldn't even take anything 'cause the body's rejecting whatever I put in, my face emerged this ultra-horrified look while the other hand drifted to my tummy. Fuck, what have I done!
Turn on the television, Jaime's Kitchen was showing the cook preparing food. "Yes, yes, rub it in, asshole.", I said to it. I had just taken my rendition of the Last Supper and anticipating another throwing-up. Jesus and the rest of his disciples would have just look at me briefly and shake their heads, then continue watching TV.
______________
Third came, the pastry as expected. I love anything that goes with cheese and for a moment there was a tinge of sadness that my body's rejecting it. Having once bitten, I shy-ed away from mouthfuls even and took sips of water to wash down the icky acidic bits stuck in my throat, then proceeded to clear up the fucking-gross residue in the basin.
For some strange reason, I found the puking-feelbetter-feelbad-puke cycle kinda... good, especially after the first two. There’s something nice about knowing exactly how much something is going to suck, you know what I mean?
______________
Apparently it's like an offer; puke 3 get 1 free. The last one was greenish, like bile juice or something. Similar sight to the time which I got so drunk at Henry's place, waking up in the middle of the night filling the toilet bowl with an even greener grostesque than this, then hugged the toilet bowl to sleep.
______________
Having puked 4 times within the morning since 9 am, I still feel high and hungry, but intentionally waiting till later to munch on something light. It must be the world's worst hangover, ever. I bet I could make it into the Guinness fucking Book of Records if there was a chance any of the authorities saw this.
There’s sensory overload. Today was Nonsense-ory OverUnload (I unnecessarily capitalized the three letters in the hopes that you’d get the joke. If not, may Allah strike you down with a panadol tablet.)
______________
Note to self: Never, ever take Whiskey coke in large quantities 'cause you, can't, take, it.
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