Scream-out Therapy

Talking Disorder...

2009-01-31T21:16:00.010+08:00

Geez, dang it. Doesn't anyone know how to talk these days? It's not about how you start up a topic or the closure of a speech or even the way you wanna wank off the friggin conversation; it's the contents, the contents! Hold up lemmi check the definition of contents.... Ah! Here it is!
Definition of contents: "Something contained, as in a receptacle." and/or "The substantive or meaningful part". In another words, it's basically the material/purpose of a verbal trade-off between two or more living parties, assuming the context of self-dialogue is irrelevant here.

You guys wanna know what I've been hearing ALL the time?

RandomChatterOnTheBus: "I love you, babe."
Random ChatterOnTheBus2: "Nooo, I love you more..."
RCOTB: "Then I love you even more!"
RCOTB2: "Wanna catch a movie tonight then?"
RCOTB: "You decide. =)"
RCOTB2: "Nooo, you decide! By the way, did I mention I love you?"
...... -_-
And they proceed to stare at each other in an ever so romantic, yet, kinda idiotically disgusting public spotlight.

Lovers nowadays have nothing better to do, do they? Once people get into relationships, they mostly dismiss 3/4 of their IQ in place of superficial love or they think smiling and retaining amorous faces at one another would get them a warrant to do sex in public. Oh yeah, and if someone else accidentally, I repeat, accidentally gets in between, woah, better watch out for those couple glares! Those $$ combo deal bigtime damage! Ain't tryna diss couples here, but sadly, the real world don't work like that, and typically these sorta relationships don't last long either. Going up against reality means you gotta have true love, man, true love! It is then that in the name of true love, whatever you guys do is deemed innocent. Yup, ranging from petty arguments to sex. I believe in a one, everlasting love, but I also believe it isn't made up of barren words and monotonous actions, and I also believe I'm speaking on behalf of what, every exasperated individual these couples have met on the bus?

You want real love before stock runs out? Start with a REAL conversation.

Pardon the bluntness, permit presentation of scenario #2.

RandomChatterOnMrt: "My friends did something horrible today. T_T"
RandomChatterOnMrt2: "OMG, seriously? Why would they do that?"
RCOM: "I dunno! But she did this and that... It was supposed to be my stage!"
RCOM2: "Aw, that's just sad. A lot of my friends do that too..."
RCOM: "I know, right?!"
RCOM2: "Yeah... Hate 'em."
RCOM: Mhmmm... Yea..."
RCOM + RCOM2: "......................."

From a normative perspective, I guess that is normal. But is it just me or does anyone think normal is overrated & stupid is an understatement? I was listening in on them (because they were conversing so damn audibly) and whaddaya know - nothing was mentioned or specified on the root of the problem! And then the receipient of the conversation starts prattling about their problems without solving the giver's! After everyone unleashes their frustration, that's all, period. Wow, I bet it really helps, doesn't it? What's more, what's with the political strife today? We're supposed to be civilised civilians not barbaric politicians. Ironic that the most terrible and ravaging wars are ignited by the most powerful people, and yet, we're expected to view them as role models. See, that's how misunderstandings come about, by miscommunication. This leads to tragedy and social deterioration.

Scenario #3: On the phone

WannabeSmall-timePaiKia: "Allo."
WSPK: "Ka ne na la, ((finger gesture)) I say wait dere aleady right."
WSPK: "No la, no la, fuck ((raises voice)) you la, ji bai."
WSPK: "Chao, si bei lan jiao, ling bei kao bei you not swang ah??"
WSPK: "Ah nah, ah nah, ah naaaaaaah ((with an irritated, draggy tone))."
((Hangs up))

Appalling, lol. It's as though they survive on punctuating every sentence with profanity. Are they even humans, these guys? Amazing how they can pronounce one English word correctly: Fuck. Wake up, in Singapore, local delinquents are no less than spoilt brats that have immature hangovers and spit crap. If they wanna call their 'people' down, I bet they couldn't form a decent football team, lol. Newsflash: Us nice guys have more friends. These 'gangstas' should go to Hong Kong or something, and find some mafia organization that would recognize their value of 'brotherhood' and worthiness. At least we have one thing in common - for us, Singapore has not much future prospectives to offer.

Readers, link all this back to the point of conversation and please tell me you realize something I have had a long time ago? Sorry, if I seem too full of myself, I'm a proud character, but I think majority feel the same. I mean, is it too much to ask for a 1) Responsive, 2)Reasonable and 3) Realistic chat sometimes?

For God

2009-01-30T21:01:00.008+08:00

First of all, a very happy niu year! ^_^ Pressing onto my blog topic...

This post makes its divine basis on a transition to heaven, a prayer, I had with one of my fellow believers (let's call him P shall we?) one night. It was magnificently overwhelming and by the time it all ended, I was on my knees weeping tears of spiritual cleansing. Kinda holy, innit? I'm honestly still very much the same person within: I laugh silently at jokes, act all cool and fail miserably, curse and swear every once in a while, treasure my morals no matter how anyone tempts me, stumble in front of the girl I like, throw tantrums on impulse, and of course, will never let down my friends intentionally, but now, I trample upon the roses of a new beginning - to my salvation in God. In short, I've got something extra in my life, or rather, I had it all along, only to notice its shimmering tip peeking from a pocket I had always taken for granted.

I'm gonna share what little I know of God, most of which was learnt from a book a renowned local pastor, Pastor Rony, wrote. Ever wondered if He existed, doubted the innocence of His words, or sought to claim and strengthen ecclesiastical evidence in His name, etcetera? In the book of life and death (that's literally the name of his book), he quotes from a holy scripture that it is to be fated for scientists to one day discover the genuine Heaven, where the angels and God reside. Self-research has revealed that NASA has, indeed, quite overstepped our perceived horizon of the universe, to the far reaches of the farthest edges. They have sighted golden sculptures and structures, and gates. They have uncovered yardsticks of golden feathers construed as angel wings, and ground dressed from transparent gold! Not to mention, their sound detectors have picked up, like, hymns and choir songs that match those sung in churches! All of these features have actually corresponded to biblical descriptions. Needless to say, most of the dudes over at NASA have converted to Christianity, as well. I remember reading what this guy had to douse out in an interview. It went sorta something like, "Judgement day isn't just near, it's here. Anyone'd better get straight with the Lord quick. If you want proof, there will be nothing short of a trapdoor materializing from right beneath you and dropping you to the depths of hell otherwise. That's your proof." To be discreet about it though, the revelation has been shadowed, so as not to unsettle religious co-existence.

Scary isn't it? I've had a fair bit of Godly experiences myself. Freaked me out some -.- but I guess it was worth it. As I recall, I had a deck of UNO cards on hand, so I decided to test God (serves me right, lol). I told God (no, I think I commanded Him >_<) that if He was for real, He would send a green eight card falling right out of my hands whilst I shuffled the cards recklessly. A few seconds of shuffling later, an overturned card fell onto the bed. Flipping it over, a green eight lay on my palm! I never want to do that again ~_~. My friend had a couple of, well, more intense memories, lol. Such as visualizing his grandmother ascend to heaven after a family prayer for the previously non-believer. "I didn't know you then, but I know you now. Our grandmother was a good person, please accept her into your kingdom." or somewhere along those lines. P's relatives called in on the same day saying they witnessed the same scene. This happened when he was six. I swear I teared up when he relayed the story to me. So happy yet sad... P also had to deal with dark magic in his infant days, from which a Christian saved his life. We also shared our involvement in first-hand miracles at miracle services, including the blind seeing, the lame walking and even the dying cured, completely. Amen to that, yea?

One particular and peculiar phenomenon I must write here is about what I read in Pastor Rony's book, in which he quoted a passage from this person, who obviously is a health doctor of some sort. I can't remember if the doctor was using a defibrillator or a medical technique, but each time he revived this certain patient's dead heart, the latter would snap his eyes open and wake up screaming. He would be "trembling" and his facial expressions would be "grosteque". At every interval of awakening, the patient would howl to the doctor not to stop reviving him, because he did not want to go back, to set his life in Hell for an eternity. The patient had merely dipped into the inferno of hell and he was beyond petrified. What he had seen was devastatingly unearthly, far penetrating the wildest horrors of human fantasies. After a considerable amount of time, the doctor knew he had no choice but to pray a prayer of repentance for his patient. It was a very simple prayer, "Forgive all his sins and let him be saved and blessed, even if he should live." or close enough. Immediately after those words had been muttered, the expression on the patient's face could be described as a change of a full revolution. He was at peace and comfort. He didn't struggle and even appeared not to mind death. Don't ask me about how it ended, I can hardly recollect it, lol. You know, just maybe, doctors' work isn't restricted to just life after all.

That's basically the sum up of what was verbally spoken. More overwhelming was the atmosphere around us. Emotionally and physically pressurizing, increasing in magnitude after every exchange of words. The whole neighbourhood could easily have been the holiest hectare of land in the world at that junction. My friend and I were already in the phase of getting constant shivers down our bodies and goosebump sensations even though the temperature was normal. My first reaction was to kneel down and pray, and boy, it was a personal record because I had never prayed that seriously in all my life. I prayed for me, but more than myself, I prayed for my friends. I prayed for forgiveness and future forgiveness. I prayed there would still be time. I was praying out aloud and my voice was quivering. Tears just... came streaming out from my eyes in a burst of emotions, and I bowed my entire being down in God's mercy. That was just how intense it was. When I realized how much I respected his Goodness, half my fear just evaporated.

Believe it or not, be offended or not, it's really up to you readers. My obligations are to clear my conscience and perform my duty as a Christian by helping to spread the gospel. It's helped me to get over a lot of my problems. Well, thanks for reading and all the best in your religious journeys, whichever you may choose and however you may walk it.

May the force be with thee
Burn

Frustrated Much?

2009-01-05T21:43:00.014+08:00

... I dunno how to say this, but I think this is the only place where I can make my personal thoughts known - not too personal though, I'm gonna be censoring some stuff for myself to brood over.

I'm not feeling good; I'm in a foul mood, for no apparent reason at all! It could actually be one of those teenage hormonal outbursts that I'm experiencing. It's just I'm highly perceptive of what may be causing this and the repercussions if I decided to act on them, that's why I've been struggling to keep them under control. The thing is, a teenager's a teenager, and however mature I think I may be, it's getting suffocating and ridiculous to pent them up, and I am this close to blowing up. In the end, it's never easy growing out of the mentality and emotions even if you've scratched adulthood. And the new responsibilities that come with it doesn't do much to help. Maybe I don't wanna mature, maybe I wish I was a kid again.

I realize I'm being I'm being immature now, but I can't stand it... I'm extremely frustrated now. I guess the only thing that made me really really smile completely from the heart was when a good friend from England told me she was feeling the same way, and I just found that to be amusing. After a bit of reflection, I concluded that I just found it amusing that someone's feeling the same way, so it's probably common at our age, and that I'm not alone. At this moment and place, my stupid internet is picking on me. Just great - I can't do my homework, I can't even watch videos, but on the bright side, I'm still able to log on to MSN.

Many of my friends may have observed this, but I'm having a mental and emotional blackout disorder thingy, especially around them. Like, someone put a stopper in my system. I'm unable to think, or even talk for that matter, and notice things that appear "duh" obvious.. I know that they're not smarter, neither am I more stupid, so I'm confused that I seem so dumb around them, and this has been getting mroe frequent. I try not to think too much into it, but the more I do, the more unfocused I become and neglect other important stuff. My problem is that I'm too conscious of myself and people; it's a habit I can't shake off. When I'm aware that I'm aware, it makes it harder not to be aware of being aware - being excessively aware of myself and people. That makes sense right?

I find connecting with my friends increasingly fragile. Because all their jokes, and I literally mean all their jokes revolve around the genre of sex, regardless of gender. I mean, I'm ok with the occasional pervertic chatter and all, but the fact is that I hate behaving like a pervert that oftentimes talk about dirty things publicly. Whenever the chatter is riled up, I keep my mouth shut, just shut. I've just been informed, too, that this happens in England very frequently. "English people talk about it all the time". xD She told me she hadn't expected Asia to be like this, though I dunno about the other parts of our region. My instant reply was "It's something about the younger generation". Don't you guys tell me that isn't true. There are times that I think if I get myself really drunk, I can go all out with them, the fortunate thing is I get enlightened of its idiocy when I'm in a better frame of mind.

I think there are people who are in light of what's happening to me and look down on me on that basis. I haven't the faintest idea how I can change back to who I truly am. I'm starting to get crazy ideas: A ghostly encounter, getting kidnapped, engaged in a physical fight, cutting myself (? nahh!!), gaining the fame of a celebrity by my own ability, or plainly crying my heart out (if I can... Insensitive tear glands you know), any sort of inspiration that can trigger my real self back out.

(Great, my mum's begun nagging... Thanks a lot.) @#$%

Anyone read my very brutal "insolence" post below? I suppose it's partially true, partially!* The best way to lie is to have an element of truth in your farce. It seems people most similar to us can only be found on the other side of the world; it's a pity about it. I still have many things I wanna say, but naaah... If I actually said this, and I mean *speak* to anyone about it, I feel as though I might just pour my tears and heart out, but I detest being weak in people's eyes.

The irony of this post just screams, doesn't it? This is exactly why I named my blog the way I did; no regrets. To those who are wondering, this isn't another prank post, so don't worry. ;) I should go purchase a punching bag instead of just venting my frustrations so verbosely. No, I should see a shrink.

His Sovereignty

2009-01-04T19:23:00.003+08:00

Well, another year of dry spirituality has passed on. I have absolutely no idea of where and how I'm going to catch up to God. Oh, right, I'm a methodist Christian by the way. It's kind of demoralizing whenever I think how I'm probably going to end up " in eternal agony, moaning from the burns of 30000000000 degree celcius blazes in the grudgingly deepest depths of Hell. " I guess if I'm lucky I may get to eat a piece of charcoal.

"Well, welcome to reality in the 21st century my dear friend, there's no such thing as the supernatural." is what the internal logic in me sarcastically remarks. But I really want to believe... There's just no motivation for me to attend church services anymore... No time, no energy, no friends... - nothing!

But I'm an anti-realist, so I 'know' that by just believing in his presence and word, everything will be okay, or will it? There's no need to study, there's no need to "go to church" to give praise, so long as you, in all actuality BELIEVE that he exists and love him from where you are, as who you are. There ain't no need to be a priest or pastor or even showcase yourself as a singer or holy fashion model.

I realize that this post is pretty much self-opinionated, contradictory and I'm probably gonna get flamed for this, but I don't care because to me, this is the Truth and that's others' only mechanism of defense against me. So bring on the thumbs downs.

I can tell people one thing though - albeit my denial to spend time in certain places with certain people, I daresay my belief is stronger than some of those who attend church. Anyone who disses Christ disses me, for He is the only entity I shall ever bow my head down to. Hallelujah!

Oh yeah, school is reopening for many of us tomorrow right? Dear God, please bless us from crushing workloads and sadistic facilitators! Amen! ^_^;

My Insolence

2008-12-31T14:14:00.026+08:00

I'm dead pissed, yes, I've been dying to let this steam off my chest for months. I feel somewhat rebellious these days. I have a lot of problems, but these days who doesn't? The difference between me and fucking idiots is that I don't vent my frustrations and piece of mind on others. I think I'm one of those victims in distress of self-centred, conceited people who think the world, and every bump and frame of life revolves around them. It's quite enough they try to take command and patronize my heart, but as if that ain't all, they tell me my confidence level to execute a particular task isn't up to expectations!

Well, I've got this to say: Your expectations ARE YOUR FUCKING ASSUMPTIONS YOU SELFISH SHIT BUCKET OF MULTI-TIMING IT'S-ALL-ABOUT-ENJOYMENT-AND-EXPERIENCE IMMATURITY WITH BRAINS THAT CAN'T DISCERN BETWEEN SOCIAL PARTNERS AND SLAVES. How dare you assume such a condescending manner on everyone?! How dare you think me as a meager participant, not even an assistant!? Anything you can do, I can do better. It's merely a matter of willpower, not ability or even commitment. Now for the most important statement I want to profess: I ABSOLUTELY HATE BEING FUCKING TOLD WHAT TO DO. Yeah, I might have a superiority complex, but I don't really show it do I? All these time I've been desperately repressing it, but NO, you guys had to mess with me with your pretentious knowledge and logic! My confidence, and my way of life - who the fuck are ANY of you to decide? You wanna take charge? I'll show you how it's done then! All of you know better than anyone else I haven't been throwing my weight around unlike certain pompous leader wannabes. I've always been agreeing, I've always considered your suggestions no matter how opinionated. Yes, partially because I genuinely thought everyone was bound to have some talent in them and I even constructed on them. Also, although I have never actually travelled the extra mile to help someone nor willingly accepted aid from people because I prefer interpendence and not being overshadowed by others(as some who have worked with me might know), I have never imposed my ideas forcefully on anyone. Therefore, if I have to shed my personality into a whole new something, so be it. Look, the lot of you are nice people, some of whom I'm great pals with, but ENOUGH is ENOUGH.

At least, if anyone reads this, be sure to pass it on, because the kind of look and behavior I portray when I'm angered isn't something anyone I've met since 3 years ago have had the misfortune to witness. And let me reassure you this isn't a passing trend or teenage hormonal outburst. I'm majorly not kidding. -_- Those who have seen me in a debate before would know that I can express myself completely and if necessary, hurtfully, and when I'm serious, I NEVER lose. I've decided to give a fuck to everyone out there, and I shall change this revolting and cynical world with my bare hands. Heck whether I'm wrong or right, if I can put it in theory, it can be fucking done in practice. This time I'm gonna take lead, not only of my own life, but of any oppositions. That's because it's in human nature to dictate. You setting your expectations? I'll set mine in a whole new legion over yours. Two can play at this game. Who's the 'commander' now huh? Next time you wanna treat me as an inferior subordinate, think twice, for under this already insurmountable pressure of work, I'm not gonna hold back any longer; I run my own businesses; I govern my morales; I shan't suffer in silence anymore.

Emo? No, emos are those who stoop for everything, but I'm gonna be dealing with this personally and with all my powers collectively.

God damn it all.

Yours rightfully insolent

Burn

Did that get you? Psyched! xD So how was that for a banter? Well, okay, it was more of a mock rant than anything ~_~ Gotcha!! :D Have a great and wonderful year ahead everybody!!

Yours rightfully insolent

Burn ;)

Party Time!!!

2008-11-27T23:05:00.027+08:00

Or "Potty Time???" I have a sneaking suspicion something is gonna happen tomorrow, which is... *peeks at clock* a wee few minutes away from the day God gifted the world with the most suave, intellectual, masculine, outspoken and wow-material guy of all XD~! Oh the torment I'm so expecting to endure from all my cliques. Whip cream, checked; eh, flour, checked, water balloons, checked; capsizing my kayak, checked; 19 bashes for my still fragile and pure (and naturally cutting edge shapey course of a...) body, checked! Hah, lets see what else you guys can throw at me... though expecting them doesn't help cushion the imminent pain and psychological trauma X.X Water-based adventure education just HAS to be on the same day, doesn't it? Perfect.... Did I mention I can't swim?? o.o

Then again, maybe I'm not worthy enough to have my birthday commemorated and celebrated... You know, no value for your time and money? Hmmm...? ^_^; So hopefully I'll live to see the light of the tomorrow's night lights, at least >_<. Lalala, I'm used to having my mango cake alone so if no one notices, I'll just be by myself, eating and staring at the wall, forcefully feeding my solitary appetite with lopsided leftovers and piss off into the pits of misery and approaching death. Well, cuz, with every birthday, we're one year closer to dying right? It only seems like I had my 18th birthday yesterday... *gasps* scary thought.. man... haha.. Ok, that's all for today! I'll update the lowdown of what's gonna be history (not of me, no ^^) later on. Gosh, this's gotta be the most informal, not to mention, weirdest post I've ever made. ~_~

Now, for some home takes... ^_^

Chennie and me! Omg, isn't she a cutie? Love my dog so much! Love her love her lover! XD Gotta hand it to my sis though, she managed to capture Chennie's elusive doggy pose.

Just me and my cake... Well, my second cake *rolls eyes* It would have looked better if the lights were off =/

Guess what flavor my cakey is! Well, anyone?? No? It's... Durian! YES, my other favourite cake.. ^^ Notice the subtly distinct 'thorns' behind "Happy Birthday"? Time to dig in!

Updated: Not in chronological order due to class photographer MIA: First available batch of pictures outside class circles! The spray-at-you-then-laugh-at-your-confusion-and-get-you-to-laugh-also-club! My vocabularly fails to summarize it in one word, sorry ^_6

We're not being weird, the cameraman was being mean... =(

With two world-class beauties? The pleasure's all mine =P

Obvious which is me, right... I mean MY right! <<<

Updated! Again... Thanks Yvonne! On the same day, a few hours ago...

Cheesecake!! Mhmm! One of my favs =) Credits to Clyde and Suat Ting there.

Addison, our water-based faciltator just happened to have his birthday yesterday, that doubled the cause for celebration XD A wonder how we didn't blow the cake away considering there were 2 pair of extraordinarily strong lungs! Oh, please accidentally ignore the knot on top of my head... - thanks ah Nisa!

Class photo by the pool equals... Poolside Party!!!

video: Evil doesn't even begin to describe it! Letz see... I wish to express my gratitude in the sequential ad coherent order of the push-me-down perpetrators, who are - Khai, Sasi, Yvonne, and Sandy! What a day XD~!

Singaporeans' Hell

2008-10-28T01:52:00.007+08:00

This post is regarding Singapore's news and how local events have been affecting us lately & tremendously. I hope this gets through to whoever seriously reads it.

http://www.petitiononline.com/polybus/petition.html

As indignant as I feel about this one-sided, narrow-minded policy, I cannot stress and rekindle how everyone has been holding a firm ground against it, because the policy-makers know it and understand us. It's rather useless to say anymore since we're reiterating the same old, but explicitly valid arguments. I beseech the authorities whom it may concern, to kick their abilities to conclude 'bills' up a notch, before passing them on. If this protest is perceived as redundant, barrages of adverse consequences, aside from the natural declination of the economical ecology, will befall our nation.

Some complaints WE advocate:

Equality - institutional equality, please! Are the expenditures of polytechnics so particularly overflowing that it's an absolute to segregate the rights of the institutions? What did we do to deserve such an injustice on a silver platter? Why are there over ten thousand students rampaging their grievances on a petition? What ever happened to democracy?

Irony - am I using the wrong word or should it be hypocrisy? Public transport is an accessory of transportation, meant to impregnate a sense of convenient accessibility in us. The purpose of public transport is the manner in which we are prompted to take it, is it not? Well then, according to that equation, when this manner is dissuaded, how in the world do we abide? More vehicles amount to more global warming; we all know global warming is a harbinger of natural disasters to come. Who's to assume responsibility then -the ones who veiled public transport from the public with a transport ticket with more numbers on it?

Natural declination of economical ecology - now, I'm not really a genius in anticipating or calculating the stock markets or whatnot, but even a completely ignorant couch potato can tell where this is going. How on earth are people stricken with the unfortunate disease of poverty be of any better, since even concessions are put into a perspective that screams costly (let alone those without them)? Will parents be gratified to burn holes in their pockets larger than they did before just to send their kids to school? Will kids, who have acquired their own ideals as teenagers, grow to love or despise the authorities for presenting such an unnecessary hindrance to their studies? Will foreigners stand for these deprivations and be stubbornly oblivious? Think about it - where's this road leading us to?

Exorbitant fares - I wonder if supplies and demands are being cornered and exploited as a pretext to, once again, increasingly withdraw money from Singaporeans like we're some kind of personal ATM machine? Let's see - via taxes, road funds, school fees, transportation, etc have just been spiking up and getting on our nerves. Otherwise, I certainly, on all our behalves, hope the 'extracted dough' is being kneaded thriftily and effectively. Consider an appropriate, immediate and elaborate explanation to us the cherry on top.

At the end, I'm making a disclaimer that some of these arguments were inspired or directly translated over from the comments in the above online petition website. I really love what you guys have been writing and how all of us share a similar sense of righteousness in one country. One people, one nation, right? =D Also, I don't mean to judge those in power (although the impression you have so excruciatingly given us is presumptuous and prejudiced), but I would suggest y'all do some soul-searching on propriety and who is it that is serving whom.

Cheers
Burn

Inexplicable Sentiments

2008-09-06T12:40:00.018+08:00

I don't know what love is, or what is it I'm feeling. I've had my fill of first loves, but this is similar, yet, somewhat different... in a more ascertained way. Maybe it's because my maturity is pulling some strings behind my heart. I could be in love again.

P.S. I DON'T fancy guys, haha... No, seriously.

If someone asks me who she might be, I'll announce:"It's a most wonderful creation of God, trapped in the realms of my mind. A person whom I wanna blurt my funniest jokes to, just so I can hear her laugh more than anyone else. Every second drifting without her seems like a wasted eternal twilight of loneliness - like the deafening silence of a sanctum."

If someone asks me how long I've had these feelings, I'll recall:"Ever since she accidentally swam into my eyes; it took me an instant to fall in love, but a year to realize it. The 48 weeks that I spent knowing her, cannot compare to the last week that slithered by, because that week will evolve into the most meaningful years of being by her side and keeping her smiling."

If someone asks me if she shares my sentiments, I'll whisper:"I expect nothing, but hope she does. It doesn't matter anyway, because I'd be more content if she gives me the choice of pursuing her than disallowing me lest I get hurt, for that would be compensation enough for giving me these unwanted feelings. Accepting my decision to return them is the least I request."

If someone asks me if I'm afraid of the consequences, I'll grumble:"I'm scared... that it isn't love after all. Either that or I'm prone to falling in love with my friends. I could direct my focus to another person, and maybe I'll forget about the first girl and 'shop' for the second. ... The hell is up with me? I've got tons of other stuff to do and I'm sitting here solving my love network..."

If someone asks me if I could be confused between love and friendship, I'll shrug:"I don't think about her all the time, so I can't worry about her then. When a thought of her surfaces, it's always wondering what she's up to, and looking her up. It's getting harder blocking her from my mind lately; the building loneliness causes a searing pain in my heart too literal for imagination."

If someone asks me if I should "go for it already", I'll stutter:"I don't know how crazy I'll be if I'm rejected, or how awkward our friendship will be. I'm almost certain she likes someone... that's not me. Our different religions are by far, the greatest ordeal. Some will hail it, others will spurn it. I guess I'll wait... or not... I'd rather remain friends than be avoided. Maybe I could..."

If someone asks me if this should be a reason to feel hurt or painful, I'll weep:"It's simply because I don't have her. I don't know which is tougher: To love and not be reciprocated, or to be reciprocated but cut off by the glass of society's conventional judgement. Expressing myself so apparently could have just made it more burdensome, but it beats being 'surrounded in the illusions'."

If someone asks me if we'll be happy together, I'll argue:"When she has happiness, I'll be its insulator. When she has sadness, I'll share it with her. When she has fear, I'll hug her 'till our limbs go numb. When she has anger, I'll smile and let her hit me, and smile some more. A perfect relationship isn't 'happily ever after', it's about being there to love and be loved by these setbacks. To be happy because of the good things, as well as the bad - that's the 'perfectest' love of them all."

Conclusion:
Love is the strongest magnet in the universe. When a magnet is attracted to another, as long as you keep them 'in sight' of each other, they'll never lose the track between themselves, no matter how far you pull one away. When two magnets repel, they will never be a joint item, no matter how many times you push them together.

A repellent doesn't necessarily denote a lack of love, nor does an attraction signify the opposite. Repelling something easily represents the obstacles in love, while the attraction could be brought on by selfishness. The only solution is to turn the magnet around, so that forces are reversed. In those cases, the change from repelling to attracting is akin to hope in love, and the change from attracting to repelling indicates a separation. The only difference? It's in the illogical difference of the forces although their sameness is the principle of turning.

Magnets are double-edged by nature, so is love. Whether you're meant to be... whether you're not meant to be... For whatever reasons, they're all determined by how we turn our own destinies around. The strength is conceived from our desires; the effort lies with how we live.

Weathering Goosebumps

2008-09-02T19:27:00.003+08:00

The weather trend in Singapore is transgressing from bad to worse. As of late, it seems to have picked up the habit of throwing abrupt mood swings. Housing sensitive skin and a nose, rashes and flu have all managed to bypass my immune system and permeate my body in abundance. The sad thing was even with my body heating up, my flu had taken no regards to temperature and performed miracles of making me sneeze ten times in a row followed recurrently by another; I did not want to aggravate the cold by cooling myself down, nor did I not want to torment myself with deprivation of the relaxing chillness. Therefore, I efficiently and effectively concluded that it was time for an early afternoon nap, which was the only way to put my ironic suffering on hold.

Speaking of which, converse to how I initially felt about the sofa in my family’s living room, I found it somewhat hypnotically cozy and traversed right to dreamland ten minutes after I plopped onto the sofa. Maybe it is because going by my accustomed standards; I would usually fall asleep in front of the television set late in the night or early dawn.

My dream was quite the, well, accomplished one. It was all so uncannily vivid and coherently framed I would eat this laptop if I did not at least stir on the sofa. Long story cut short, I am just going to share a scene out of a nightmare, and one of the most famous/cliché formats of conventional horror clips. Here goes nothing: I was desperately trying to escape from a hell-clad building. It was one of those times when you felt mockingly chased, no, hunted by someone or something palpably beyond your match and yet, you had to shun it, whatever the cost and however futile you knew your attempt to be. In the dream, I knew I could not dispute against the impending doom. I was crawling away, in the hopes of finding a getaway route of salvation. But the hope was withering and fleeting with every second that seemed like they were ticking in slow motion. No, I do not think I was even hoping; I was just too scared to give up. Fear was creeping over me and had me in its petrifying clutch, but human nature told me to struggle for my life, and I did. Somehow, I slid my way to the elevator and pressed the button heading to the first floor. The door of the lift was transparent, so I could make out the vicinity.

Frighteningly enough, each descending level that I thought better guaranteed my safety, was clouded with a fog gloomier than the last. My heart was cringing at a corner when I had reached the ground floor. As I hesitantly peeked out into the eerie mist, I almost screamed out when I saw it was level six! Flinging myself back into the lift, the imaging mechanism inside indicated it was level eight! Well, many things happened, including me gaining superhero powers (weird huh?!), after which I woke up in cold sweat. I think the fever is getting to my head, literally.

Media Box

2008-09-01T11:51:00.003+08:00

Watching a scene from behind a television set is such a beautiful and fascinating luxury. Every time I sit down on the sofa and switch on the television, my sub-consciousness tells me that this is the best way to sympathize with someone else, to see what they see. The knowledge of how real or how fictionalized a story is does not really matter to me, otherwise the more authentic it is, the deeper the impact.

The irony is that one cannot truly feel anything physical or directly emotional. The lessons learnt and morals of the story are all derived from what the character in the story experiences by his or her will. Perhaps behind the media box, we feel secure and put on a certain degree of pretense we are not even conscious of. But in reality, when something happens to us, what we initially agree with those characters on will be entirely different from or possibly conflicting with our true nature.

There are those sci-fi movies in the theatre, like the currently most popular – The Dark Knight. It is those perfect camera angles, the motions, the scripts, the costumes, the make-up, the set-up, the characters and their acting, which has taken charge of changing my perspectives on life. I have even taken the trouble to memorize some of The Joker’s lines, which I find reasonably sensible albeit his mad front and methodologies. The scene where his words inspired me and many of my friends the most was during his in-hospital talk with Harvey (aka Two-face) to try and convince the latter that the death of Rachel was no one’s fault, but the Batman’s and the police’s. The Joker even gave explicit illustrations to further dictate Harvey’s already perplexed mental state, thus transforming him into a freshly risen criminal - Two-face. Heath Ledger’s performance was outstanding and was by far, the best actor to play The Joker.

Then again, there are those reality T.V. shows, news programs, documentaries that induce a feeling of responsibility to watch and consider them. Two big documentary series in my life now are those of a horror genre, “Incredible Tales” and “A Haunted”. It is enough with how frightening they are, and how compelled I am to wet my pants, but the fact that these stories are on credible channels portrays how real they are, how alternate dimensions to spiritual worlds exists via doors we are not supposed to open. And to boot, I have an extremely translucent imagination and a chronic fear of the dark. All in all, my favorite shows are those that can render me crying and laughing concurrently, if you know what I mean. A decent source of those shows would be those belonging to the genre of romance, be they true or false stories, or even purely animated. I have just finished watching one of those drama series, “My date with a vampire”, and its two sequels, “My date with a vampire II” and “My date with a vampire III”. It is lucky I have insensitive tear glands, because I still got pretty teary and found myself grinning at times

(More) About Me

2008-08-26T22:15:00.011+08:00

First of all, I must congratulate some of you for spotting my unambiguous habit of exhibiting ridiculously "long posts" on my blog. Verbose as I am, surrendering the clarity of "why" is hardly a fearsome feat. There are numerous interests of which are in my agenda to fulfill - you can refer to "My interests" list. To top that, in whatever I do, I love to excel. Asking "who doesn't?" would reflect that I still have yet to unveil an aspect of my personality. When I say I love to excel in whatever I process during my lifetime, I bode no reason for you to doubt me. Aiming a litter at the dustbin, walking, joking, expressing, rebutting, replying, brushing my hair back randomly, the angle at which I hold my cutlery, shampooing; minor activities that don't really warrant taking them into your conscience. And by excelling, I mean being original, because I don't like to imitate, which would depict I would be in the shadows of someone's excellence. This is almost always followed by hours of thinking how I could be even better. I haven't the slightest why I'm so conscious about anything, ergo my being consumed by pressure like I consume water. I could be crazy, and reading what I have just written and admitting it, that's either saying a lot or proving my point, or saying a lot by proving my point, or proving my point by saying a lot, or both. I rest my case! Ha-ha.

Secondly, writing was, is, and always will be an allegiance of my life. I loved writing albeit it wasn't that big of a deal until I got associated with a forum during my post-secondary school graduation period. Before I knew it, I'd befriended dozens of foreigners and got heavily addicted to communicating with them. I was indulging in their influence, ethnics and philosophies. There were (are) relationships ranging from debate 'kakees' to regular chat mates to confidants, and then... Well, the rest are private not to be disclosed anytime soon! Sooner than the seconds I could memorize, I was involved in story-planning sessions with them and hell, it was loads of fun. The way in which we wrote our story was none like I've ever experienced personally. It was a turn-to-turn based writing on a daily basis, narrating our verbally animated characters in the most unforeseen and anticipative means! For all we knew, it would, somehow, in an innovative manner, incur mutual plots in favor of expounding both the story line and characters, which it did. I think I have shown a sample of it to one of my friends, but she probably won't read this, so...

On a finishing speech, I'm not about to enter into the regions of politics nor law, even if I once took a curious interest to them. I just love to share my ideas, perspectives and experiences with others and tackle, as one of my friends refers them to, "controversies", should any come my way. Since that's what a blog is all about, since that's the purpose of my blog, I can't extract any wrongs from this. By the way, did I mention I love excelling at stuff, so this ain't no exception. :)

Ear Candy

2008-08-26T00:41:00.005+08:00

Music is a holistic compilation of both sounds and noises. Music is different pitches and intervals orchestrated in a coherent composition. Can the ear-splitting din of that irksome motorcycle possibly be engaged to melodic lyrics? Can the throbbing racket of the dustbin lids clanging be an unexplored well of inspiration? Can that rapid incantation of a mother's nag ever be elegant to chorus with? I'd say "yes" is pretty much an understatement of the millennium. Since a forever of eons ago, music has been concerted in a cultured performance of artful elements. Correct me if I'm wrong, but there never was a second when music was equated to one constant, resounding tune, though I'd imagine that that could have laid the diverging foundation for the discovery of music.

The beauty of amalgamating each audible spectrum, side by side in a creative recipe, with sensible refreshments every now and then, is simply divine. I can't help but acknowledge my appreciation for music, ensued by appreciating that acknowledgement as well, when I know how enchanting it is for disgruntling, mediocre and routine tones to be refined into such exquisite tenderness and fragility. Yes, fragility, or facilely spoilt - precisely on the sole basis that music, in its entirety, can be morphed back into sore beats by the addition of an unnecessary instrument, an ill-fated tweaking of a musical piece, adhering to a tone-deaf music director wannabe, or any other possibilities that highlight its brittleness.

Being a music lover, I see definitions of music hovering all over people's taste buds. "To each his own", I guess. Really though, as long as something pleases my ears, I brand it music. Just take a look at my "Favorite music" and it'll scream how much I love having variety on my dish. Mimicking relationships, music can (no, seriously) drive your sanity of sorrow, fear, longing, boldness, romance or even a tinge of lust. For example, its intimate charm can preach salvations of joy, vigor and irrationality by compelling a wild, rowdy consciousness of yourself to punch every note with exaggerated movements. Though subtle, it poses an undeniable set of emotions, which we are all helpless gritted by, through our (sort of) blessed sense of hearing. Perhaps the refusal to undergo certain moods is concisely why people have differing definitions of music, though on second contemplation, we need not regard different definitions of music to define their respective feelings. Music comes from an original source of feelings, which would be explanatory to how it acts as a channel to induce an author's feelings into listeners.

Ping! Pong!

2008-08-24T23:39:00.012+08:00

It isn't everyday Singaporeans flock at whim to contest in table tennis, or any other sports at all, in a manner of confessing. Hell, the lifestyle here sings of the extravagant luxury of food, or to be more precise, eating. Don't misunderstand, because I ain't pointing fingers here, though on behalf of all us teenagers out there, I shall voice that, boy, are we picked to the bone, to work like our island's buoyancy depends on it. We are positively drowning in fatigue over here, hello? Then again, I might be nailing onto something here whilst I digress. Then again, again, that's always how I start off, is it not?

Even the blue moon has never perceived the sight of sports being a normative means of survival in our diminutive territory, yet, a state quite handsomely dressed in the grandeur of contemporary embellishments. Painstakingly blessed by a not so regular client of mine, Lady Luck, a familiar condominial clique invited me over to my former residence for some good old rounds of table tennis. How I have hankered after an opportunity like this to re-acquaint myself with the sport. I desired the cries of victory, though most of the time they were in the form of a sigh of relief. I missed the occasional comedic instances when the elusive plastic ball would, ever so coincidentally, hit us where it hurts the worst, and how we boldly enacted and experimented with all kinds of 'wiseguy' shots. These, needless to say, bore trashing results, out of our favor. Conversely, in the events that they did accidentally score us legitimate points, the frozen confidence on our opponents' faces took to a more priceless and surreal impression, ha-ha.

Fun and leisure aside, the feverish intent to pursue a profession in table tennis has me dangling by the narrow hook of hesitance. Should I go in for the dive and destine half my existence to chance, or will I fare badly and end up juggling table tennis balls for a living? I daresay I can pose a pandemic threat to potential adversaries if I play at my limit, which still has plenty of room for chronological expansion. The invisible speed of the ball, the positioning of my bat, the angle of strike, the reaction time, the stamina and the mental focus are all operations in an equation that so blatantly spells utter intensity, that must be sustained and in turn, sowing your own rewards. According to personal experience, it is when the ball is propelled over the net with such piercing accuracy that it optimally whams the tip of the edge of the table, before it is reflected at such a sharp projectile. Depending on how powerful the force behind the ball, you'd have to either be extremely close to the table's corner or a maximum distance away to deflect that, and if possible, send the same type of ball hurling back. It would also be wise not to underestimate ping pong's range of motion because the smaller it is, the quicker the game play and thus, flexibility. If your opponent is a pro (which by the way I'm not) and a screw ball lover, then you're more or less screwed, literally.

As with everything else, there are pros and cons in table tennis; other than that, there are loads of other sporting hobbies Singaporeans should enlist in their priorities.

Olympic Pedestals

2008-08-23T21:54:00.014+08:00

Imagine a country which had nothing but a nameless and faceless entity, unauthorized for even a gaze at the spotlight. Fidgeting in an uncharted peninsula of the said country, a wee lad, no older than ten, swore he would earn an admiration so majestic that the Olympian gods themselves would marvel at his national anthem. Ten years prior to the oath, an individual of unpolished origins deemed comparably insignificant, has triumphantly clinched a gold medal, a label portraying the best of the best.

This has been a tale illuminated by exceptional Olympic athletes throughout the centuries, forged by diverse pathways, but nonetheless as true as the willfulness of a child's innocence. Anyone who has enthusiastically kept a log on the Games would comprehend. To stand onto that very pedestal is to have lived the most and best out of life. It is to uplift every sweat, smile, tear and nights of scoldings onto that very platform, because all their excruciating efforts have been compensated with full-fledged respect. And the emotional pride, dignity and honor these athletes garner from the thunderous crowd roars and blinding camera flickers, pinning them onto that very deserving stage is the point from which they know they cannot ascend any higher.

The exploding aura of amazement emanating from any television set was enough to aggrandize it into a 52 inch plasma T.V. Every facial expression that the camera fished out had its veins and bones desperately straining to contain its structure, and was pronounced in meticulous envy that I, too, was helplessly lost in the heavily manifested admiration. Following the trend, Singapore has also won an immense hand in gaining accolades in the Olympics - credits to Lee Jia Wei and her team. The moment was pretty exotic if you ask me, since I had never been so proud to be immersed in the sport of table tennis.

Who is to say? If you believe, the Olympian gods may not be the only prophets who can portend champions.

Poet's Memories

2008-08-22T22:53:00.009+08:00

Engulfed in a poetic twilight of overflowing nostalgia, I could not quite help spending over a hour mustering the words for feelings beyond secular description. Humanely, I guess each and every single one of us (no exceptions) have an experience, so original, so ideal and wondrously impacting that these transform into powerful and vivid memories right until we breathe our last.

Mine is about this particular girl, who was the first and probably the last person to bestow upon my life the seed of happiness, resided in its blossom, and dance the tragic isolation of its wither petal by petal. This sad, stubborn, tattered flower still declines the turning of a new leaf, with sunshine and water in abundance. Breaking away from the past means setting a less conventional expectation, in embrace of make-do offers. Ironically, it might be the acceptance of someone a little less perfect in my eyes, that would fill this pit of yearning and grow into what the first flower could not. Somehow, somewhere, I sincerely cling onto the hope that she will, at least, know she was loved so much. So, yeah, please bear with me guys, because it is not what any one in their right minds would call a short abstract, ha-ha...

Eternal Remembrance: Childhood's First Love

In the very first moment I laid eyes on you
My heart found and bloomed into a love so true
How young we were alive with pure innocence
I was hovering between newfound emotions
Your name, your voice, completed with your essence
Why couldn't I speak of your name with perfections?
How was I always so clumsy around your voice?
Yet, during those times I had been, without a pout
Never more happier and proud of my choice
That single glance I knew was born from fate's layout

It wasn't until that day, that I greeted you
The day when Mr. Low sat us together
"Um... Hello...” I said with a shy smile on my hue
Wondering if my hair was of a major jeer
On seeing you ignored me; it seemed like a cue
To hurl everything which I dreamt I could tell
But then you looked at me, for the first time as well
For a while, I was pelted by cupids' arrows
From then our relationship was set on their bows
To explore the verdict of destiny's trial

During weeks on end I was truly overjoyed
Like any student who did great in their exams
... No, this was different, I could never be void
Of claiming my righteous feelings; preventing jams
Regardless of how long passed or the games I received
Because every day in class of you I perceived
Every problem assigned to us, we achieved
We were one and the same with each passing time
And still I dared not confess to you on a dime
What method to use - probably sing a rhyme?

Alas regret preceded orchestrating thoughts
This I had never counted on to happen
Naiveness had me down, saying forever nots
Being conned by my heart occurred then, at the often
Beginning with a switch in seating arrangement
Multiplied when you talked to another guy
Conversing intimately just as you and I
Cowardice overwhelmed my weak jealousy
Even then, my feelings remained unknown to me
As I watched your smiling face vanishing from my life

Followed by a change from you in next year's classes
I was determined to kick all their asses
Desperate to rejoin you once more hand in hand
Striving toward success was all I had planned
Things like water, food and air were secondary
Couldn't afford to lose a focus or worry
Another try was all I wanted and needed
Just one more attempt I had only required
Lo and behold! My efforts paid off drastically
Seeing you after what felt like a century

I kept waiting for you in class to light our spark
Enduring pure torture so wrenchingly aching
This tongue of mine could compass on escaping
When at this point, a friend came sneaking with a bark (tree)
With a message containing something from you to me
Aimed at throwing insulting & hurtful comments
Blinded by rage, I assumed that you'd mocked me
So I craved to return what gave my heart dents
Upon submitting my insensitive reply
That friend laughed and told me he had played my head

I couldn't believe my own words, and before I knew it
Everyone in class was pointing and chuckling
Except you... You just sat there, not responding
While the class bullies displayed my confession
Writing it on the white board amidst confusion
I was held down by the rest of the students
Suddenly, the teacher walked in, her face in anger
She scolded me for not maintaining order
Since I was responsible... I was class monitor
After which she removed my position to restrain

The year ended fast, there was nothing I could do
Situations where I could make amends wouldn't brew
You never looked at me again, only thing I knew
My parents and sibling teased saying "puppy love"
But if I loved you until now, would it still be?
Countless grief-filled nights lacked me of peaceful sleep
Dreams of so near yet so far; reasons I couldn't see
Tears streamed down when I closed my eyes, it wasn't fair...
Even as I'm writing this, I can't help but ponder
If I'll ever meet you to utter a sorry

Well, so much for my life story...

Puppy Love

2008-08-21T22:40:00.013+08:00

<-- My mom, lol

Dogs are typically said to be a man's best friend. If we perceive it from an unbiased standpoint, however, there is equally as much logic to be derived when someone else proclaims a bird, a cat, or even a fish to be his or her best friend. One's personal preference would lie in one's experiences, ability to infer and/or susceptibility to be swayed by another person's reason for possessing differing interests, as well as an anonymous number of miscellaneous factors. I hope this clears up that I have no discriminative motive whatsoever, because I can be a real pain in the rear when I talk about something like nothing is second to it.

My opening sentence is: I love my dog. Frankly, I cannot think of how I should otherwise insinuate this paragraph. My unwavering and irreplaceable bond with it dates back to when I first timidly stole a glance at it, six years ago. It was no larger than my twelve year-old palm. The dainty peach ball of soft cushy skin (it did not have much fur yet) was rolled up and asleep in the warmth and safety of its enclosed cot. Of course, my mother's and sister’s crazy squealing of adoration startled it, and then, it was rolling and crawling on its feet, delicately, but progressively. It was delightfully miraculous because its eyes were not opened yet! Nose to the ground, exploring its cot, followed by its cage and our apartment in an inquisitive and cutely self-gratifying manner, it gradually adjusted to its vicinity. In the process, two small perfectly round black eyes were peeking up at me shyly, reflecting my own pair. Its flappy ears twitched rhythmically to our every sound when we moved or spoke. Oh, and whenever there is a storm, it has never failed to sniff us out at home and cower between our laps, quivering. Maybe all dogs have that phobia of storms, huh? Since their hearing is, last I heard, ten times greater than a human, a thunder must sound like the end of the world to them! It would also be ever so hesitant of jumping up onto the sofa or beds. At first, we thought those places were simply not within the reach of its paws. After the storm though, we tried to prompt it to jump off. It just would not! No matter how we persuaded it or shoved it (gently), it pushed back at our hands with its snout, stuck its claws out front and obstinately stayed stagnant! Well, nothing much we could have done about it. After much tedious consideration, we decided to go with Chennie, a name my father had picked, and that takes after the family surname.

Now, Chennie, akin to the size of a basketball when curled up, is an incredibly bubbly and bouncy dog, in good hands and shape, her fur amazingly the same color as her skin. She is also a dignified mother of two puppies, one of which, unfortunately, died during birth, and the other given to friends. She still runs in fright toward us during a storm, constantly reminding us we have no need for an OSIM massage device, but she has curbed her 'puppyhood' fear of heights. A lot bolder, she sneaks up onto our beds at night, and lies beside our pillows all through our sleep! We would then purposely let out a loud exclamation of surprise when we wake up, because her eyelids would flap open fleetingly, and resume her doggy dreams a second after! Round things have become an important part of her life, for some reason. She regards any of those as a ball to play fetch with. Still, her favorite one has got to be the black squash ball we had specially bought for her. However you play fetch is fine with her, so long as you hurl the ball into a physically exerting stretch of distance. "Don't play play ah", she taught me my soccer skills! I remember there was this one time when my parents sent her off to an animal hairdresser for the first time, without my knowledge. So there I was, awoke on my bed, not seeing her at her usual spot, unable to trace any vestige of her in the house at all. When I asked, my parents said they had sold her off, bringing me right onto a verge of tears! But I put on a brave, no, emotionless front, went to my room and started reminiscing every happy and sad moment I had had with her, until all my feelings and memories got transcended into watery streamlines from my eyes. Dad and Mom quickly yielded when they found out how serious the situation was, ha-ha.

Truly, she is the best pet I have ever had, taking into account I have owned two rabbits, five hamsters, two birds, and three fish before her. She is a significant member of our family of five and has completed what was thought to be accomplished. I know my family has given her a new leash of life, but then again, her assertive barks, her terrified whimpers, the subtle playfulness in her bright eyes and prancing paws have also helped us grasp a fresh perspective of life, and I think no one can ask for anything better.

Rising Voices

2008-08-21T17:43:00.006+08:00

Life is a pompous, over-sized, overrated piece of crap brimming intricately with surprises at every nook and cranny, is it not? These unexpected encounters are skeptically greeted, yet, if given time that everyone deserves, eventually taken into stride when they are inhaled by an enlightened sense of realism.

Take me for one of life's specimens. I was not really the type to be fond of such a non-profiting, time-dissolving, and waste-of-talent, and sedentary activity that has people sensationalizing covalent experiences on a regular basis with which only the virtual world is concerned, that can never hope to change anything in real life. I mean, if blogging could revamp even government-level policies, taxi-drivers would be fighting for blogging spaces instead of yakking all day to their peace-deprived passengers, and you would see a multitude of terrorist-themed interfaces with Osama Bin Laden performing ballets in a tutu.

My initial direction was just to write, and write and write, mutually for the sake of an academic program. But in the midst of it all, this clear and tenacious direction was capsized by an abrupt, new undertaking. I knew too well that my verbally expressed perspectives were, well, too well. I desired for them to be seen, recognized, approved, and critiqued. These were political complexities dealing with morals, ethics, philosophies. Wherever in mainsteam society has every feasible excuse to clamp a vice on my mouth for fear of disrupting an indigenous, fixed order in which any sort of deviance signals the threatening dawn of a maverick rebellion; usurpation. Indeed, blogging may not be a suitable tool of implementation, however, if not for changing, then surely, it is about reality itself? Discerning between facts and fiction, I would say what humans do exists, and putting these acts down on paper does not make them any less true, right? That would mean it makes an impact on us. Besides improving on grammar and vocabulary, many new angle of perceptions come to light when I note, because noting helps me inevitably reflect. When reflections can ameliorate our flaws and better our persons, I guess it just makes the world better overall, does it not?

I have erected this blog as an outlet of deviant voices, be they personal, general, political, corporate, etcetera, as long as an opened-mind is maintained whilst conversing and proper discretion is exercised. I think the underlying but painfully unmistakable point is that on here, what is annunciated should be righteously truthful and corrected with evidence, meaning the source of what anyone says has to be filtered through facts, not baseless and immature eruptions of nonsense. Jokes can be jokes and retain their light-heartedness, but otherwise, please be cautiously sensitive to everyone else.

Think what I have written is too much for you to handle? Well then, feel free to constructively comment on anything. This is the purpose of this blog. Scream it out. If you are tired of hollering at the ocean alone until your voice is hoarse, try yelling it out here, where you are also making your opinions voiced! Rest assured, as the patrons of this blog, you will be, more than often, entertained. >=)

Peace
Chen R.X. Burn

P.S. This is my first time blogging, so kind souls, please lend me your guidance! ^_^