The Detached World

Reflections

2012-01-16T18:46:00.001+08:00

I really liked this excerpt of a speech from Robert F. Kennedy, when he was campaigning for U.S Presidential Election in 1968:

" Too much and for too long, we seemed to have surrendered personal excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things. Our Gross National Product, now, is over $800 billion dollars a year, but that Gross National Product—if we judge the United States of America by that—that Gross National Product counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the destruction of the redwood and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm and counts nuclear warheads and armored cars for the police to fight the riots in our cities. It counts Whitman's rifle and Speck's knife, and the television programs that glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children.

Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage, neither our wisdom nor our learning, neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country, it measures everything in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it can tell us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans."

40 years down the road, things have not changed.

If I Die Young

2011-11-12T00:00:00.000+08:00

I don't think I really understand anything after all.

Even when I type this, I don't even know whether I believe what I'm thinking. I find myself blessed that I grew up with many good teachers and mentors; my childhood dream was that I want to be in a position to change people's lives and be a teacher. And as I labour through the education system, I find myself finding the whole thing hypocritical, so many people going through their motions, teachers, students and I likewise. I question the existential need of education, and the entire fabrics of society.

Who does education serve?

What is the purpose of society?

What is our role in society? Or more precisely, why are there roles?

What am I living for?

It is the last question that I have questioned myself most. People say so many things for this: For our dreams, for ambitions, for our loved ones, to leave a legacy, to make a living. No matter all these reasons, I cannot shake the realization that in the end, I'm living for the sake of living. All other reasons are the constructs of society, to give me a role. I shudder at the thought of having my purpose of living tied to roles. It's almost like I'm inside somebody's experiment, someone's play-world, having my course plotted and scripted.

Now now, I'm really blabbering.

They say that when you grow up, you have more freedom to do whatever you want. Yet I'm feeling far more constrained than ever. Am I doing something to please someone? Here, my inner self will revolt at this thought, but I'm conflicted if this is the truth. I can't seem to feel happy doing anything. Helping someone? Yes I feel good. I also question myself if I helped someone so I could feel good, which is selfish also. Praise someone? I ask myself if it is earnest, if so, I'm at a loss of why I did so.

If someone praised me, I'm at a loss, because I find myself so deeply flawed that I almost detest myself. I revel in harsh words on myself to constantly seek perfection, yet I wonder what's the point. Particularly praises or good words by adults, I always instinctively seek to deflect them. I thought about this when a tutor remarked that I am too self-critical when I pressured her to tell me more bad points of my performance. Am I seeking to impress myself? No. I don't know. That remark just hit home. I'm always looking to expand my horizon, improving in everything. But for what? I don't know.

It's been a while since I really felt pleasantly pleased since someone praised me. And the praises was of something inconsequential, in the eyes of "society". I dug into myself into intense basketball recently, because it's the thing that I could forget everything and just focus on the task in front of me, just the ball, me, the guy in front of me, and the hoop, honing and honing the skills.

One afternoon, I was playing as usual beneath my flat with some people, when suddenly out of the blue, 2 kids of one of the guys I was playing with praised me to their dad. It was unasked of, I felt my ego balloon, but they were just 2 kids! 2 kids whom I will never meet in my life probably again. 2 kids whose comments will never affect my future in anyway. Yet I think back, that's probably why I felt so pleasantly surprised with the praises. It just felt so different from the other people around me, who all had stakes here and there.

Hmm.. my thoughts are really wandering.

I'm listening to "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry right now. I'm just comparing it with my current favourite, The Civil Wars. But I'm subtly struck by the the lyrics. It just seemed to resonate with what I'm typing. I know it's should be an uplifting song. But the words, "Funny, when you're dead how people start listening" strikes a chord within me. We always say, "If you were to die today, what would you have done". It's so clichéd, I just feel it's so wrong. If I were to die today, it's just that I won't feel anything, electric currents stop running through my brain, and I cease to exist as a life just like what has happened since time immemorial. Why bother about tomorrow, about what you want to be remembered by?

2011-03-16T18:50:00.005+08:00

I'm more and more convinced that this will go down as something far worse than Chernobyl even as they continue to deny and cover it up now.

"Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't."

Mark Twain

What is keeping Japan as a culture, as a country together now is the belief that order, resilience and patience can overcome any obstacles. To them now, panic and disorder is worse than radiation and the truth.

2011-03-15T22:10:00.003+08:00

To the 50 workers working desperately and dangerously in Japan trying to contain the nuclear disaster, a twist from Winston Churchill's famous quote, no matter if they succeed or fail:

Never in history was so much owed by so many to so few.

I sense a cover-up, the situation now is much worse.

2011-03-14T17:58:00.003+08:00

My roomie tells me not to be so critical of things (nicely put)/ hypocritical (truth).

But I can't stop myself from noting that most birthday wishes is because facebook or some program reminded people to do so, not because they really remembered. Hey I log into facebook, oh there's somebody birthday, so I just drop by to wish happy birthday (insert the same message with a smiley face).

Try this social experiment, remove your birthday from facebook. See how many remember. I tried already.

Why do people invite each other to "like" the pray for japan event? Or some child violence thing? Raise awareness? Check. Make more people aware? Check.

Make a difference? I don't think so.

So this is what I postulate. Everyone of us needs to fill this feel-good conscience ego meter. Clicking the "like" button is the easiest, least effort, simplest, most egoistical-filling action that can be done in this age. Donate money? Oh I'm not sure how. Help out? Oh I don't have time.

Click "Like? Yes yes. I feel good. To feel better, I shall share and invite more people to like. Makes me feel I'm making an effort.

And I'm wondering why this world is so fake. Ask questions for the sake of asking. Smiles and grins that mean for nothing but hide the venom beneath. Where has the apathy gone to? I said that the outside world is a stage, where we are all actors putting a show. The question is:

When can we step off the stage to be who we are?

Yes I'm a hypocrite. I acknowledge and embrace it.

2011-03-04T23:49:00.004+08:00

"A friendship begins when two people have the need for each other. They share the comfort of being able to relate to each other in their natural self."

I just had this niggling thought with me that I felt compelled to expound on it. I was thinking of the different occasions that we first met all the people we know, and how some of the meetings turn into friendship, some into acquaintances.

When I first met the bus driver, I needed him to drive the bus to my location, he needed me for his job. The same goes for the bakery auntie, the nerdy salesman, the person asking for donations, the hawker seller... But we find all these people nothing more than our acquaintances. Sure we both need each other, but we also put on a facade, a mask that we and the society finds suitable. It is only when we can both peel off our mask that we can call each other "friends".

I don't know about the others. I find it comfortable being myself when I'm with my friends. You could say I need their company, some I need their notes, some I need them for talk buddies in lectures and activities... (I'm at a loss of words describing these needs. It seemed so clear in my head). Yet at times I can put on a front, not afraid of losing anything, because somehow I believed the "friendship" would last more than my occasional rant, my expressions of displeasure, my undesirable sides of my personality.

As life goes on, I meet more and more people. There are many that I would instinctively categorize as acquaintances, and few that I call friends. Yes many of them I need them, and in turn they needed me at some point of life. Yet it is clear to me that the relationship have not encroached friendship. I don't know why. It just seems as natural as snapping a finger. It's like there's a mutual pact that both of us should just be acquaintances, and both of us are entirely comfortable with this arrangement.

I think that's the key why there are so many people we can go about seeing frequently, but never feeling the need to go more than the customary greetings and small talk. Sometimes when I'm tired or evasive or feeling anti-social, I would pretend not to see them. And the feeling is mutual. I don't see that with friends. There's an unexplainable desire not to ignore them should I meet them on the streets. I could feel a pang of guilt if I pretended not to see them.

And that I think is also my problem. I have constantly told myself to weed myself off any reliance of other people. To keep my feelings in a neutral state, to believe that individual effort trumps collective work. Bit by bit, I lost the feeling of the need for others. And when I couldn't feel like needing them, I could not bring myself to commit to taking the relationship to friends. I'm biased to seeing past a person's superficial need for me, and I cannot step out of my cocoon to taste the air around me. I feel emotionally burdened to commit myself.

I think the same goes for love. I believe that love is merely an extension of friendship, where both of us needed each other more than others and other things in life. I have not been able to feel the need for others. I could say I'm a coward, without the courage to commit myself. The same goes for my ambitions. At 21, I do have fantasies or dreams. But I'm terrified of failure, scared that when love fails to blossom, the friendship and the need for each other's company would die down like a flickering match, a warmth that I have embraced and endeared for a long time.

2011-02-18T00:22:00.002+08:00

I just got this sudden thought: Why are there so many activities in University that seems to chase the same cause? And why are there so many CCAs that do nothing but self-generate work that has no use but for superficiality and and self-justify their meaningless existence?

2011-02-16T00:20:00.002+08:00

All my life, I always think I'm special, destined for special things. Thinking that there's some innate quality that is waiting to burst out and be discovered. I treated all my accomplishments of little effort as testimonies of my talent. My glory of moment would appear like the magical transformation of a butterfly.

All my life, I have been nothing but ordinary. All my accomplishments have been nothing more than coincidences and fate smiling on me. Soon the luck runs its course. The complacency sets in. Discipline untrained. Passion extinguished. Efforts languishing. Yet the dreams remain untamed. The belief that I'm special remains, but now through effort, not talent.

I have always been chasing that soaring firework. The moment it sparkled with all its glory dazzling and blinding. Darkness awaits. The dream is over. That excruciating realization that sets in, bleeding myself dry. I have always chased that perfect self. To make myself worthy of anyone I dared dream of, long for or love.

I have come to embrace my flawed self, my body imperfect, my mind impure. The past actions are irrevocable. The present teases. The future beckons. My mind needs to stop escaping from the problems. To stop deluding myself. The shell of mine is cold. Like the phoenix, I must let my old self die to be born anew. I desire to find back the meaning of friendship, the warmth of companionship, the embrace of love.

Small steps. Stop chasing the shadows of others. Leave behind a trail for eternity.

2011-02-15T18:37:00.001+08:00

Everyone of us has our own deformities, how many of us are conscious of them? How many of us can live with them?

Segmentation

2011-02-15T15:02:00.004+08:00

I'm getting bored nowadays, no real interests whatsoever, and I suddenly want to get back the feeling of writing (or at least initiating the train of thought). So I thought it would be good if I started to pen down some of the thoughts and observations going through my mind in those solitary moments of travel.

I really do kinda prefer to travel alone, be it going home, or maybe embarking on a overseas trip of sorts. There is something relaxing being able to choose when I want to talk, instead of enduring the social embarrassment of keeping quiet when others are around and the obligation of maintaining a conversation that is likely to be forgotten by both sides.

This semester, I have marketing classes. While the lessons and content are relatively interesting, I can't help but delve into my own bias and preconceptions of the business world around me. How and why people buy things or services. So here I am, formulating my own view of how the world seems to work through a little observations and prejudices :)

So basically, my view is that we can divide the entire bill notes-wielding mankind population into a few kinds of customers:

First, the not-sure-wth-is-going-on-but-can't-show-it people, which my prejudices places at the vast majority of people around, maybe around 60-70%? These are the people who knows nothing about the things they want to buy, want to eat, want to dress. By knowing nothing, I mean they do not have their own ideas of what they actually want. Of course, we all like to give things elegant names, so let's call them "the perpetually wavering".

What I like about this group of people is that they keep the economy humming, part of the reason why certain brands and products that have no functional benefits continue to prosper. These are the people who follow trends. Because of their struggle to find their likes (and the non-existent desire to know about the subject matter), they are malleable in the sense that they seek social conformance. So when a growing number of people starts to consume a certain product (say Starbucks), there's a innate need to follow the trend to fill their own sense of identity.

Buying behaviour of these people are primarily driven by emotions. The impulse of buying an item is followed by a period of soul-searching and excuse-mining. Therefore, in a businessman's view, these people can be coerced into buying by offering an item that wows on the outside. Outside here does not mean just the packaging or design of the particular brand or product, but also includes its advertising, image, and social perception of item itself.

So say a few people buy Topman/ GAP apparels, they will find the need to catch on to this trend and buy these items (No offense to these brands). By believing that they are being unique and following a niche group of taste, they inevitably create a sort of sub-culture that feeds itself. An excellent example is the proliferation of digital single lens reflex (or if you prefer to call them DSLR) cameras. A large proportion do not know photography, or how these monsters seem to work. But hey! So many people are using it, so I won't be wrong to have one right? How do I deduce that most people don't know how to use DSLR? Just see how many buy a DSLR and use only AUTO mode.

So the basic premise of enticing this group of people to buy is to first create the ripple, by targeting another group of people (elaboration later). Top up with a little teasing of knowledge (so they assume they are experts and feed their ego), a little shrewd marketing, and you will have yourself a killer brand. The most important thing is to create a following.

The second group of people live on the first group. We shall call them the "promoters". By promoters, I don't mean that you have to necessarily satisfy them with excellent product features (Remember, a good product/service does not make a killer product/service). These are the people who write reviews, critique on others, and most importantly, hold a huge influence over the first group of people. Hey! If you are a not-sure-wth-is-going-on-but-can't-show-it (we all are at a point of life), then the only way you form a buying decision (other than the emotional bang) is to read reviews. We all read reviews. From movies, to restaurants, to books, to gadgets, to services....Anything you can name!

Why do we read reviews? As I have explained, the non-existent or unreachable desire to know about the subject matter. But we can't float in the air! So we find some footing through these reviews. Oh I forgot to mention, the not-sure-wth-is-going-on-but-can't-show-it do like to flaunt their "knowledge" gleaned from these reviews. So for a business, appeasing the "promoters" is any business' top priority, since they

Do these "promoters" know their subject matter? Sure they do. I think a little diagram would help.

Oh I forgot, there should be an upwards arrow showing "social esteem". So there is a constant struggle for people to rise up the pyramid. We can safely assume that around 80-90% of "promoters" were once not-sure-wth-is-going-on-but-can't-show-it people, since there's not a lot of "geniuses" who would be willing to move down the spectrum. So basically, these people are essentially almost the same as the last group of people, except that they have a much bigger appetite for social recognition.

Thus, to appease this group of people (and subsequently their followers below), it is important to offer them various benefits that MUST not look like benefits or bribes. Such things can include "exclusive access" to your products, devoted relationships, constant contact with them, etc. Basically to make them feel like kings. When these promoters are your followers, your battle is done.

Based on the diagram, there is a group of people called "geniuses", who do actually know their subject matter. Except for a few niche products, these people are few in numbers and hold considerably lesser purchasing power. Take note that always there's an ever-growing group of rich, young, and tasteless people as capitalism takes its roots around the world. Instead of taking the high road and calling then douche bags, a business should view them as the premium not-sure-wth-is-going-on-but-can't-show-it, and entice them to be your promoters, since they hold lots of leverage over the majority who can't be so rich. Well, the geniuses are your true customers, but you are running a business, not a non-profit organisation, so it's forgivable to ignore them.

I think a more in-depth analysis of each group is possible, or maybe go into occasion marketing, but I'm getting tired, so hasta manana!

Memories

2011-02-14T00:19:00.003+08:00

"Memory is a funny thing. When I was in the scene, I hardly paid it any attention. I never stopped to think of it as something that would make a lasting impression, certainly never imagined that 18 years later I would recall it in such detail."

--Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami

And we have a weird tendency to add in little details to fill in the voids in our memory. The little details that did not exist that we wished existed.

After not talking with a person for a long time, my memory of the person fades. No matter what. I begin to forget the small tidbits. What does the person like? Does the person fidget or mumble when lying? Then I slowly forget the voice, the looks. I fight it so hard not to forget, so I try to remember, make up if I can't, It gets harder to remember with less contact.

And soon the person I remember is merely a figment of my imagination. When I see the person again, we may have known each other for years years before. Yet to me, our relationship is nothing more than being strangers who know each others' names.

Fickle-minded right?

I do find myself exceptionally fickle-minded. The things I like always change. Let's see, interests? I told myself I loved photography once. When I see the world around me in little boxes. Now, that feeling of love is but a fleeting memory, the skills remain, the passion fades, and every piece of photo comes out soul-less. I can't tell why, the way I have been taking is the same, yet I couldn't bring myself to see the final results. It's like the fire has extinguished and the passion sinking into the depths of a place I cannot feel or see.

It is painful. It is heart-breaking. All the more because I really don't recall when and why I suddenly find photography a bland activity. I see so many people I know take up and loved photography because they saw the love in me. I'm suddenly find ourselves changing positions, where now I'm now the one looking up at them like a little kid reaching for the star on top of the Christmas Tree.

And it has happened so many times I have forgotten how to like doing something.

I come up with many reasons to tell myself why I'm don't talk to people. I see every face around me swallowing me up. No, it's okay. No, I'm tired.

Yes, I'm scared. I'm frightened. I can't find a way to trust people anymore. There must be a reason why they are talking with me. To kill time? Courtesy? Any benefits for them?

And I'm terrified because I can't remember from when onwards I became so fearful of committing.

I don't know since when I became the person I am. I'm so fearful that I will lose my own identity.

Tragic.

Yes, when you talk to me tomorrow, I'll still talk and act like the person you know.

Life's Just Like That

2011-02-14T00:13:00.001+08:00

James Morrison
Please Don't Stop the Rain

I don't know where I crossed the line
Was it something that I said
Or didn't say this time
And I don't know if it's me or you
But I can see the skies are changing
In all the shades of blue
And I don't know which way it's gonna go

If it's gonna be a rainy day
There's nothing we can do to make it change
We can pray for sunny weather
But that won't stop the rain
Feeling like you got no place to run
I can be your shelter 'til it's done
We can make this last forever
So please don't stop the rain

(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Please don't stop the rain
(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Please don't stop the rain

I thought that time was on our side
I've put in far too many years
To let this pass us by
You see live is a crazy thing
There'll be good time and there'll be bad times
And everything in between
And I don't know which way it's gonna go

If it's gonna be a rainy day
There's nothing we can do to make it change
We can pray for sunny weather
But that won't stop the rain
Feeling like you got no place to run
I can be your shelter 'til it's done
We can make this last forever
So please don't stop the rain

(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Please don't stop the rain
(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Please don't stop the rain

Oh, we're a little closer now
And finally what life's it's all about
Yeah I know you just can't stand it
When things don't go your way
But we've got no control over what happens anyway

If it's gonna be a rainy day
There's nothing we can do to make it change
We can pray for sunny weather
But that won't stop the rain
Feeling like you got no place to run
I can be your shelter 'til it's done
We can make this last forever
So please don't stop the rain

(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Please don't stop the rain
(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Please don't stop the rain

(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Can't stop it, can't stop it, just can't stop the rain
(Let it fall, let it fall, let it fall)
Let it fall, please don't stop the rain

2010-11-26T23:00:00.000+08:00

Self-esteem rooted in ingenuity; Self-respect in autonomy; Self-confidence in resoluteness.

Break and Thoughts

2010-11-25T21:45:00.001+08:00

It's has really been a long time since I came here. My mind is in a perpetual mess, incoherent, unable to sort and organize itself as it should have done, especially since it's barely 2 weeks left to exams. Yes, exams. Yet I couldn't have approached this very first tertiary exam with more nonchalance than before. Complacency definitely isn't the issue, as my quizzes have shown (though I have only gotten back one unfavourable one). University Life isn't really as I have imagined. My own ideals and perceptions are holding me back from un-reined fun as I wished. So I shall digress a little, sifting through my past and what holds for me in the future as I perceive.

"In any case, while it is all very well to talk of ‘turning points’, one can surely only recognize such moments in retrospect. Naturally, when one looks back to such instances today, they may indeed take the appearance of being crucial, precious moments in one’s life; but of course, at the time, this was not the impression one had. Rather, it was as though one had available a never-ending number of days, months, years in which to sort out the vagaries of one’s relationship with Miss Kenton; an infinite number of further opportunities in which to remedy the effect of this or that misunderstanding. There was surely nothing to indicate at the time that such evidently small incidents would render whole dreams forever irredeemable. "

-Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of The Days

I have slackened off my reading ever since entered. It was like a spontaneous natural reaction as I seemed to feel myself caught up in the whirlpool of trying to figure out an academic lifestyle after 2 years of not studying for the sake of studying, and also to devote myself to self-generating work from university. So imagine my own surprise that I picked up this particular book from the library carelessly, only to find back the joy of just sitting back and enjoying a good fiction not for any tests' sake.

In particular, this quote entrapped me, "There was surely nothing to indicate at the time that such evidently small incidents would render whole dreams forever irredeemable. " It got me thinking. What exactly am I doing now? Sitting around studying for exams. Slogging hard for a degree. For what?

What I believe myopically was to walk my life through well-worn paths society laid out for us. What better and easier way for a good stable life by getting a degree, getting a job, getting a family, getting old, and finally when death claims us, to just surrender and submit meekly before it? Yet the more I think, the more I firmly believe that there's a purpose in society ingraining this attitude into us. It's not the betterment of us, but for the betterment of society as a whole. There is a conspiracy and need to create an illusion of achievements, a plethora of materials trophies and benchmarks, the rungs of societal ladder, to keep us content and suppress our desires. What we all fail to realise is that society itself is inherently hierarchical, with the need for the majority to be willing to constitute the bottom for the minority to gain control. Yet why are we so content with getting our first pot of gold, getting that superficial CEO or white collar job, when we are still essentially employees, willing workhorses for the society?

To me, the problem lies in our education system. It teaches too much to the masses, yet too little to the specialist (To quote Adolf Hitler). What we are learning are largely useless and impractical for our future jobs, needs, uses. Yet we resign ourselves by deluding ourselves that we need that degree to survive and get a stable lifestyle. By our self-submission, we go on to give up our dreams, striving hard for that degree for the perpetuated high-paying job, slogging miserably through our jobs. Hands up for those who love and understand their field of study. Yet time and again we continue to tell ourselves that this is the right course, this is necessary for our stable lifestyle.

I have been questioning the essence of business ever since I started studying it. Up to now, it has been getting more and more delusional for me. True, there are a lot of mathematical and logical justifications for the theories and it seems applicable. Yet the most important ingredient of finance is one's assumptions and his/her reading of the mood of the market, both wholly up to the individual and not taught (of course you can't teach them). This to me, makes finance and business no different from attempting to teach arts, just like you can't teach another Van Gogh. In essence, learning business in the business degree context merely allows you to calculate the hard cold numbers deriving from other more enlightened people's assumptions, yet in the process, making you feel almighty when the main crux comes from others. And when I question the basis of my study, I couldn't help but feel disheartened to study it.

In essence, it is the same for almost all other fields of study, where we willingly become others' employees, earning our fixed remunerations and getting all hyped over fluffy titles. Yet we will throw out the argument that "Oh I got to make a living", "Oh I got to feed my family", etc. And when everyone tells each other the same thing, society has succeeded in making the generation submissive and devoid of ambition other than the pursuit of superficiality. To me, it seems to extend to other rituals of life. People getting hitched, getting married because it seems out of place not to do so, not because of the reasons behind it. Celebrate Halloween by dressing up in ridiculous attires? Our herd mentality never fails us, yet we will find all ways to justify and portray our independence when we all submissive to "culture".

I have been thinking long and hard on my future life. I cannot envision myself pleased with a 8-5 job, no matter how glamorous it may be. I cannot envision myself doing something which I do not believe in. I cannot envision myself chasing all those superficiality to portray my societal superiority. No I can't. On the other hand, I can envision myself all shriveled up, waiting for death to come, and looking back finding a life of emptiness, doing things I never enjoyed, all the while deluding myself that it is necessary and normal. I can imagine myself trying to pursue what I like when I'm old, when I no longer have the physical means to do so, and myself living a life of regret.

So while I strive forward, I look backward to find if I have found any purpose in my life thus far. No, I do not wish to regret my decisions. Yet when I see myself regretting my life in the future, I cannot help but find myself regretting this myopic decision to study business. I was merely trying to hang on to a bandwagon with all those bright lights, yet heading towards oblivion and darkness to me. I think about my thoughts, whether I'm trying to be deviant for the sake for being different. No, I don't see it yet.

I have been giving the thought of studying geography for quite a while. No, not as a teacher, but as an academic. Nature fills me with awe, and I can feel my undying desire to understand her. I can imagine myself wanting to peek into the most violent volcanoes, chase the fiercest tornadoes, probe the deepest seas, reach for the highest sky. In my own personal opinion, it is more fulfilling than crunching numbers in a cycle of self-generating, self-debilitating work.

We all have dreams, don't we? What stops us is our courage to break out of the mold society has crafted so ingeniously for us. Will I?

2010-05-26T01:32:00.001+08:00

One incident I remembered very vividly during my NS times happened on the 2nd day of my work as an Admin Specialist. I was sorting out the myraid of files on my upper study's computer, categorising them for future use. Then my upper study Mr Kenneth Lum sneaked up. (Still recalls fondly those crazy havoc times)

"Yo so late Liao what you doing?"

"Sorting stuff. Super messy sia. Next time do things easier. Chiong now better don't need to rush next time."

"Orh. So actually it means you are inherently lazy. Same here sia."

It struck me strongly. So my 先苦后甜 was in actual fact my inate desire to be slack making a fool out of me. The reason to work hard is to have the hope of working less in the future.

Expanding this theory ridiculously, I arrived at a generalising and self-gratifying statement: The large majority of people who sign up for marathon are inherently lazy.

Surely I can hear a big brouhaha from those who "proclaim" to be part of the running fraternity. So I shall bridge the leap of logic for my statement in my own way.

I believe most people would know that I'm definitely not one who will join the flurry of running activities that now happens around the year. Standard Chartered, Sundown, AHM, etc. My logic goes like this: Why pay to torture yourself? If the true purpose to join such events is to run, one can do so anytime for free. You can call me to run to Changi and back. I wouldn't mind. But to hell if you ask me to fork out 30 bucks so we can run along East Coast Park.

Neither does the reason, "it's all for the fun of running with your friends", stand. As far as my limited knowledge tells me, the fad of running began only a few years ago. It is the same as the fad of owning a DSLR. As I mentioned, if it's for fun, I don't mind running with you, then spend 30 bucks on satay at Changi rather than for some race pack.

So why do people join these running events? Running has always been a lonely activity. It's just you, your feet and the ground. For years before running became such a fad, I'm quite certain a few of you would have scoffed at people running in the middle of the night or in the afternoons, dismissing them as A: NS Men or B: Nothing better to do, without recognizing C: these dudes and ladies love running for running.

The most prominent reasoning I could imagine is simply: Join the fad because it's cool! Who knows if you have ran 40km by yourself in the cool dusk along our numerous park connectors? But hey, say you completed Sundown and people's eyes glow with respect. Same product, different packaging. Just like it's cool to have a DSLR, or in the not too distant past, a 罗汗鱼. Display these conquests (StandChart, etc) on your wall, and presto, you are an accomplished runner and athelete! It might improve your stock!

The other reason is the one I mentioned before: you are lazy by nature. These running events provide something very important in our lives: deadlines and goals. You knew you couldn't be counted on to run 40 km by yourself, so these events shackle you into completing the distance, lest you want to be ridiculed go quitting half-way. It kind of works the same as how our brain capacity expands exponentially when exams come. Exceptional circumstances demand exceptional effort, and by imposing these circumstances on yourself, you force your otherwise lazy mind and body to move on. To me at least, this seemed far more acceptable than running for vanity's sake.

So anytime you want to run, need a running partner, call me up. I sure as hell can run. Just count me out of those fork-out-money-torture-myself-to-look-good events. Be sure you can keep up though.

Maybe Time will tell if I changed my perception.

2010-05-25T20:05:00.000+08:00

Do people really know what they are doing?

Here I am confronting a seemingly egotistical question, one I find great interest in. When people go about doing something, is it as conscious act whereby one actually goes through the process of postulating, reasoning, and justifying? Or do people do it "through the motion"?

For example, so when you pass over a tissue paper when somebody sneezes, and he says "Thank you", did he say it because he thought through of the act, and said "Thank you" due to his gratitude, or is it to him, a reflex act? (a.k.a being in the situation, 'A' scenario requires 'A' response)

Or when you are initiating a conversation, you start by, "How are you?".

Is this a genuine question with regards to the subject's well-being? Or is it a matter-of-fact tried-and-tested safe way of beginning a conversation?

Like the old times, when people meet for the first time, they will say, "Pleasure to meet you".

Is it really pleasant? Or is he cursing underneath that some random stranger bumped in and disrupted his life?

Does a person's words and actions reflect his meaning?

Henceforth, I came up with a hypothesis. The very notion of "maturity" in the thinking sense can be differentiated into two different camps: the "socially mature" and the "intellectually (not a particular good word-of-choice) mature".

When people call you "mature", there is a high likelihood of him referring to you as being "socially mature". One is "socially mature" when a person is attuned and conformed to society's expectations on the ways he/she should carry himself. Further elaborating, one being "socially mature" doesn't necessarily equate to understanding what his actions is all about. It's like a performer acting a role wouldn't necessarily understand the true feelings a person who is in the role in real life. Acting as a hungry beggar in a play doesn't require the actor to actually go hungry prior to the play.

Etiquette-teaching is teaching you the form of being socially mature. How do you carry yourself in different scenarios? We are expected to grief and show condolences at a person's funeral; to be happy and congratulate people for their successes; to portray integrity at a job interview. But in each of this scenarios, we might not be actually sad (the person who died might have snatched your girlfriend last time), or happy (could be your rival whom you are jealous about).

No, I'm not implying to see the bad side of whatever things that happen. But I'm saying that we should not take everything at face value and be ignorant.

Beginning

2010-05-17T23:37:00.001+08:00

The hardest part for me whenever I write any form of composition is to ponder how to begin it. To me, the start of an essay makes or breaks it. Just as with all things, the first impression will dictate the opinion of one, no matter how one tries to be 'objective'.

I have been trying to pick up the pieces ever since my contract work with OCBC ended a week ago. It marked the end of 2 and a half years of my life where I could be content with people dictating my life's schedule. To be able to wake up, knowing exactly what to do for the day. When I woke up the following Monday after I stopped work, I was confronted with a feeling of uneasiness. I didn't, for once, strolled sub-consciously to the kitchen to make my coffee. I just laid on the bed simply not knowing what to do next. It's akin to getting stuck for a question in examination, except that this time I was stuck in life.

I ask myself what is my greatest weakness. A dozen pop up in an instant. Procrastination, stage fright, lack of perserverence, inattention... The list could go on for some time.

Initially I thought that my greatest weakness was being subjective, for my judgements to be swayed by emotions. I tried to detach myself from being emotionally attached to anything. To be able to calmly analyse circumstances when things become chaotic. To be not held ransom to ridiculous demands of others. To give credit based on the things one has done, and not depending on the one who has done it. Gradually, I felt that something was wrong. I seem to be losing that touch that differentiates us from mere animals or inanimate objects. I believed that there was a deeper evil within me that i feared to wring out and face it.

For the past 9 days, I have been trapped in a conscious struggle find some meaning behind the things I do. Back in the past, people told me the rationale behind the things I was doing, and I willingly allowed myself to be led by these ideals. It wasn't wrong, it was just the simplest and most effortless thing for me. I didn't have to think why I was doing certain things. NS? Serve the country and learn something. Go university? Good way to net a job in the future. Study this school? Prestigious route. Everything that I have done seems to be self-explanatory. I didn't question why.

Because what I feared most is the unknown.

I remember the time when I made a decision that I really enjoyed. Diving. I decide in the spur of a moment. I recalled the time I chased and ran to the ferry terminal to sign the indemnity form. Just 15 minutes before that, I just decided to go in the showers. I reckoned that I had nothing to lose. It was the opportunity that paid the greatest dividends. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, for once I mingled with total strangers save for 2. I immerses myself in the experience and was rewarded with an unforgettable memory.

Reading sunday's Sumiko Tan's article struck a chord within me. I retraced back in my memory the decisions I have made and found they almost all had to do with my inate fear of the unknown. Why did I choose to return to HCI even though I had a harrowing experience back in the high school days? I reasoned at the time that it was no matter, still more prestigious. I believe now that it's nothing more than my aversion to deviate from the well-trodden path that others have walked on. I feared that i would diminish my chances with university entrance. I feared I would be ridiculed for not making the 'seemingly obvious' choice. I feared that I will have a culture shock. I feared to face the scrutiny of those closest to me.

But if you asked me, would I have been happier if I stayed in AJC, I believe it would be a Yes. Why couldn't people live without taking sides, or delve into petty politics?

I couldn't face the inner demons of me. What if I failed? Isn't it my own fault that I decide to choose something different? That same indecisiveness stopped me from confessing to a girl I liked a lot, a choice which still stings now, precisely because I was the one who Made the Choice. I convinced myself that I wasn't ready for a relationship. I had no time. I'm too immature, etc...

Excuses.

But I also believe that once one crosses the crosspaths of time, one should move on ahead with his decisions, no matter the consequences of his past actions. Learn, and leave the past behind. Persist in your choice. To me, i might have had bad characteristics, made foul choices in the past, I have to learn from them, correct them as I move forward. One lifespan is far too short for one to brood over his past.

2010-04-11T02:49:00.001+08:00

Could there be a moment where you simply couldn't feel any sense of accomplishment even after completing a seemingly difficult and tough job? Wishing instead that it was never the best and more is to come.

Could there be a moment where instead of feeling glad or pleased when someone praises you, your first reaction is to try to analyse and find out the possible implicit motive behind the praise and not savour the sense of pride?

"Why did he praise me? Does he have some ulterior motive?"

Could it be possible that festivals, anniversaries, birthdays, events no longer signify anything more than just a blip of a normal day on the calendar?

Could it be possible for the wheel of time erode away all feelings of attachment to any relationship? Fearing that building any expectations will merely lead to heightened disappointments in the future.

I fear that i'm nearing Alexithymia.

2009-12-09T21:37:00.000+08:00

Oh by the way I forgot to mention something.

Dear Mindef, kindly resist your utmost to quote anything from my site in your routine nothing-better-to-do checks in the cyberspace. Kindly also do not reference it into your weekly and monthly "Summary of Internet Chatter". Thank you.

"By the way if you do quote, please quote in the above"

2009-12-06T13:43:00.000+08:00

I think it seems obligatory to do a "Post-ORD" reflection, especially after such a long hiatus from writing any complete post. In fact, I did actually write a few posts, but just stopped after a few paragraphs and sentences. The words don't seem to be flowing out naturally. So after such a long while, I decided I should do some writing to salvage my language, lest it languishes further more.

I don't really feel any strong sense of objection or affection towards NS. In fact, I have actually decided to delay my views and comments on NS until I could compare it to perhaps working outside without any form of pampering. After 3 weeks of work, I think I can make a brief amateur comparison between the two of them.

One thing I was particularly impressed with the army's system was the system ability to adapt to the one constant in the organisation: the inevitably high turnover rate of the people working. True there are a large number of regulars working in the army, but even their posting are highly varied and diverse, where a person seldom rests on one position for more than 3 years. Let alone the NSFs, where despite their numbers and "relatively low position" they hold in the organisation (Let's not kid ourselves that we really do "make a difference"), the people on the position are usually changed in a short span of 9-14 months. To cope with such turnover without collapsing, I really have to admire the system.

And I thought my stint in army was really tough. Until I just found a higher mountain to transverse. And this further reinforced my perception that there isn't really a certain standard or benchmark of labour and toughness of a most difficult job, but it's just that my own threshold level of pain and ability to adapt is not up to mark. It is the same as saying that there is always a mountain higher no matter how high you climb, and thus far, anything that I have climbed is simply too low.

But I find a subtle threat from this constant mentality. By convincing myself that whatever I have done thus far was simply to walk along some road others have walked before, I have removed any form of anxiety and excitement from the task itself. This has simply made my life as bland as it can get, when nothing seems to excite me.

The only thing that I still devote my time to is my piano, because whatever I put in, I get an equivalent or equal result. If I set about playing angrily, the music roars back at me. If I play with patience, the music soothes me. If I improve, the piano itself seems to become better. It seems to be the only thing where you get something fair and equal in accordance to the amount of effort and heart you put in, unlike people where you can put in an inordinate amount of patience putting up with their theatrics and simply walk away feeling worse. The only place where I can put aside my mask and be myself is only atop a bench and in front of a score sheet, where everything is judged fairly, just like the black and white keys.

Thus far, I have refrained from engaging in any form of derogatory behaviour in the cyberspace, in particular Facebook. What I foresee is as our online lives get more exposed and tied in with us in reality, you will reap what you sow. Hangover photos, prank photos, flaming, or engaging in vile online conversations, are going to bite back at you sooner or later. I attempt to exercise restraint while engaging in online activities, aware that whatever I tag on Facebook, or even post on this blog, will be dangerous in the future against me in any way. This blog has became less of an avenue to bitch over some people than to keep a record of my perceptions of my life as I age.

I have been trying out more things since it's getting more and more boring in whatever I do. Diving, driving, trying to get a start on wine appreciation and cocktail mixing, or even thinking about an overseas backpacking trip to either Israel or Nepal's Everest Base Camp, I desperately need something to kick start my life again. Somebody, or something needs to bring back the feeling of waiting and wishing eagerly of what stores tomorrow can bring.

I can't believe I ended my hiatus on such a pessimistic tone.

2009-03-01T21:33:00.000+08:00

Sometimes, I will just pause in my life and think, "Who am I?"

Nah, it's not some philosophical question. It's an observation. So to attempt to answer the question above, let's start with some observations.

I'm wishing I'm the only peculiar one, because I'm having the tendency to group friends into different categories. Might have been the lack of information of sorts. So for example, if I suddenly feel like watching movie, I will think of XXX. But if I suddenly think of asking for opinions on books, I will think of YYY.

But is XXX really interested in movies, or YYY a book freak?

The answer I derive from this is that I only saw the "movie" side of XXX and the "book" side of YYY. The same goes with the ABCDEF... So when I think I know someone, I only know this certain side of him/her.

Therefore my outings have a certain religious following, such as ABCDE for watching movies and FGHIJ for reading books. It will never cross my mind to ask ABCDE for reading books and FGHIJ for watching movies. It just seems weird that I am not following each group's preferences.

Here's where I bring the context back. I also do observe that I display the ABCDE side of me when I mingle with them, and the FGHIJ side of me when I am with FGHIJ. It just feels natural to me. So I will have cases where one group of my friends will comment that I am too quiet, and the other group knows me as too noisy.

There are also times where to certain people, my actions are based upon prior assumptions of the opposite party (should I say, always?). So when I assume this certain K guy is a cooperative dude, I will do my best to help me no matter what, and when I assume this certain L guy is a jerk, I will lax in my efforts to communicate with him.

So the really confusing thing here is what if ABCDEFGHIJKL people are displaying their respective sides to me because they are interacting with me, and display a different side when they interact with others. Consider the numerous permutations and it's really mind-boggling.

So which is the real side of me? I ponder, than I decide that it is too brain-taxing and meaningless to find out. Perhaps the split personality in me is the real me.

Let's just continue....

2009-02-25T22:30:00.000+08:00

Men look backwards. Always. And they always charge forward.

We are gripped by this peculiar phenomenon. We will proceed forward with our lives, oblivious to the past, and the present. We are always charging forward, never learning our lessons. It is only after things happen that we will look backwards, pause, and sigh, "If only I had done this."

Truth is, we almost never had the opportunity to have pondered over the alternatives. We proceed on, choosing a certain path of our life, simply because we, at the very moment, believed it was the right path. It's like a little test, where we put down our answers because we think that it is right, not because it is right.

The most glaring mistake that we always make is to think of life as 2 directional. Forward and Backwards. We never see our sides, never distinguish the people who are running beside you and taking the same path, until the crossroads emerge and the paths part forever. It is only when after dashing forward so long that we finally pause, and turn back to mourn the losing of those who have been by your side.

And seemingly like a miracle, we will wipe our tears and dash forward again, oblivious to the new people who are running next to you now.

Till the moment we are hit with the finality, till that very time, we will continue to dash forward. We are the same, I am the same. As mortals, the time will come when we will start to cherish what that is lost. The question is when?

People come, people go. Friends come, friends go. Our habits come, our habits go.

We are like enchanted little characters in a play, doing our part, arriving and departing silently.

It's almost like a dream.

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Logic, White and Black?

2009-02-13T22:48:00.000+08:00

I was always perplexed since young.

What if right is left, and left is right?

Bah, that would never happen, you refute.

Then I imagined a scenario from World War 2.
What if the Axis won?

"In 1945, the glorious Germany thwarted the wild and individualistic Americans, establishing supreme glory over those free-thinking barbarians. The Great Reich has successfully eradicated the nonsensical idea of free-thinking, and released all civilisations from mindless thinking by concentrating all thinking to central powers.

From the Great Eastern Front, our glorious comrades from Nippon firmly established superiority in the Asia-Pacific, ensuring that all shall wear kimonos and kowtow to the Emperor, thereby ensuring order."

Would that be how the history textbooks would appear now?

We have a habit to see things in a retrospective manner.

If only I had studied...

If only I had asked her out...

We imagine countless permutations and combinations of scenarios that could have had happened if we had done something, drowning ourselves in thoughts while not realizing that these scenarios would never happen again.

At the same time, we make up countless explanations of why we didn't adopt to alternative scenarios, so as to justify our previous actions.

I believe 王蒙 wrote his stories because it just flows from his mind, not because he followed a rigour technique.

14th February 2009, 2:30:39pm would never happen again.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I noticed an interesting observation. People like to say, "Oh, sure, I know how to do this."

But never, "Goodness, I never knew about it. Thanks for telling me."

Our minds are fixated upon the known, while shunning the unknown. It seems as though we are gripped by an inexplicable fear of knowing that we don't know.

Progress can only begin when we acknowledge our inadequacies.

A person can never grow if his mind is all about what he knows.

This seems to explain why there are so many "educated" people out there who can't grasp the way of life in reality. Classroom and reality are 2 different domains. In classes, there is a guided way of thinking, a singular path to the answer. That cannot be said of real life.

Just like in National Service. I'm slowly wired by observations to believe that how a person performs in National Service, will be a mirror image of how he behaves in the future. I see many "smarter" (according to results) people trying to keng or siam duties. This brings me to think of how they will do the same when they are out in the society making a living.

Of course you can argue that there are no incentives (such as money or glory) in National Service to motivate you. But by doing so, you are showing that this is your true self.

This is similar to all those cliche stories that you hear of people suddenly turning angelic and considerate when infront of those whom they want to impress.

It is a lie.

School should teach two things. How to make a living, and how to live.

------------------------------------------------------

The one fictional character that I'm attracted to is Edmond Dantes. Simply because he seems to know it all. Sincerely.

I will be more impressed if you can show me that you can fix a pipe, than to recite to me the periodic table.

It's more practical. Period.

2009-01-11T21:19:00.001+08:00

I was drafting a list of resolutions, a whole long list of it that I wanted to do. In the end, I gave up. There are so many things that I want to do, yet never enough dedication and patience to finish it. It has always been my Achilles' Heel.

A whole year has passed, and 2008 will never return. Every second I lived in the year, I will try to remember, yet as time passes, all memories will fade. Some forgotten totally, some with vague memories. However, for this time, I will try to remember the things and people that have been dear to me, the memorable and meaningful experiences that peppered my life. It sure does sound cliche, to me, it is a little milestone. Everybody turns 19 only once.

For all the nitty gritty stuff that I wanted to do, there are some that I have been trying to complete. I told myself before, that I want to demonstrate no prejudices and pass no judgments about people or events till I fleshed out the insides. I have failed. Time and again, it is so easy to lapse into the momentary state of consciousness, to condemn things for the sake of feeding one's self-gratification. The one word that I fear now is, "Generalize".

A full year into National Service has broadened my perspectives. I dare not say it is due to my training, nor is it my appointment nor my post. I simply abhor people who think that a certain degree of "tougher" training entitles them to criticize and look down on others. As I have always said, it is wrong to assume that others are having a "better" life until you have experienced theirs. I see myself as an extremely fortunate bastard, for all my life I have been surrounded with caring mentors, great friends, a supportive family, never to fear or think about the lack of money. I am truly very lucky.

There are so many things revolving around that one can do, the sheer number is dizzying. As for me, I want to lie down, calm myself, and pick one that I can rest my mind on. To pursue too many worldly ambitions, to me, it is too tiring.

Respect does not come from one's appointment or upbringing. It comes from the way one presents himself, how one behaves himself, and most importantly, how one say about others.

Little Thoughts

2008-12-19T13:44:00.000+08:00

What is a blog to me?

It was once a place for me to gain exposure, fill my self-esteem, and to record down the nitty gritty stuff of daily life. It was the place where I bitched around and made my own "intelligent" observations of the society. It was the place where I frantically checked back daily to see the number of people reading it.

Not anymore.

Not many people read it now, or know of it now. I prefer the status quo now.

This blog has turned into a little cosy hideout. It has became a sanctuary where I come back to reflect, not on others, but on myself. It is a little world within this big universe where I put down whatever I dared not say in the real world. It is also an oasis, where after a short trip, I would emerge refreshed and ready for the next phase of my life.

At every stage of one's life, everyone likes to profess himself as being more mature than before. Looking back, I feel that I have grown over the years. But ten short years later, I would look back at the shell I am now, and wonder, "How can this guy be so childish and immature?."

I am not a philosopher, not do I dare to claim myself as enlightened. Yet this blog, has given me the space to pen down my little thoughts of life, how to approach my own life. My life is no different from others, yet unique in every aspect. The little ramblings in my mind when I'm in the long journeys, I pen it down. One day, I would be looking at the mirror, at my own reflection, and mutter, "Is this who I want to be?"

Follow your fate. Follow your destiny. Follow the path where the successful people walk on. Follow. Follow. Follow. Study hard. Get good results. Work hard. Get recognized. Yet by the time I look at my own reflection, will I be able to recognize myself?

In my old blog, I liked to put down quotes of famous people. It was as if they served as a beacon for me. But what use is a beacon in a sea of lights? There are so many paths that one has to decide. Yet I believe that admist the meandering mazes of paths, one can still create its own trail. A solitary trail away from the numerous well-worn paths, where one can look down at the puddle on the trail and recognize himself.

It is with this faith that I lead my life. Walk on. And Discover your own little trail where serenity and peace wander.

Theory of Relativity

2008-12-06T21:35:00.000+08:00

The most dangerous thing in the world is the theory of relativity.

No. I don't mean Einstein's theory of relativity.

I mean the one in the mind.

I remember I once wrote a highly passionate (but dismal) essay on why democracy cannot apply to all countries in the world. I wrote a bloody long 3 pages. One of the points I wrote, and I felt at that time was the strongest point, was that the certain population might not be "mature" or educated enough to make rational decisions. Thus, the power of choice is not for them.

How wrong I am.

To see the lifeline of Thailand wrestled and choked by the "educated" and "mature" population, I realize my folly. The government was undoubtedly, elected legitimately. They won the popular vote. The minority, displeased with the results, pushed out my arguement.

"The poor rural people are not well-informed and educated to vote. We are right. We are smart. So we say the government is wrong. So we are the only ones who can see the wrongs of the government".

When one of the opposition party leaders can threaten to crash the country's financial system so as to attain "justice" and "restore" the country to rightful leaders, one cannot help but wonder, "Why?".

We have a case of the majority being held hostage by the academia of the minority. Why did it happen?

Because of the theory of relativity.

Back when democracy started, reason was absolute. You are either right, or wrong; in our side or with them. There are no gray regions. Justice was absolute.

Then as people got "smarter", we start to see a gray zone, a blur area, a chance for us to debate. From then on, we evolved. Utiliatarians begin to emerge and contest the authoratarians. Here's a simple example,

If a terrorist sneaked in a city and threaten to blow up a mega-nuclear bomb that would devastate the entire city, what would one do?

The utilitarian would argue, blow up the area he is in. Kill the few hundred inside so the millions of the city would survive.

The flip side, is the leave him as he is, simply because it is absolutely wrong to kill innocents.

What would you have done?

So back to the topic, the opposition in Thailand claim their moral right for the fact that they are, "smarter". They claim that it is right for them for exercise their exaggerated rights to topple the lawfully elected government based on baised assumptions that Thaksin is controlling the country discreetly.

Are they right?

Is a man justified to kill if it is out of self-defense?

Are acts of attrocities justified if it is for the good of the majority?

We don't know, we will never know if it is ever right. What we know is what is agreed upon. Just like how history changes with the shift of power. Is history absolute? I doubt so.

That brings me to something closer. We will always bickle mindlessly over who's richer, who's more well-off, who's having a better life, who's getting the better deal.

But the fact, is, it's all down to the theory of relativity.

Just like the conundrum between unit personnel and admin staff. Those on the company lines constantly think that admin staff get the better deal. Air con, later wake-up times, book out during weekends.

But in my short stint here, it's has been quite a torment. Having to juggle so many things, and most of all, facing all those disrespect from the company lines who think they are the most hardworking is simply unnerving. Unknown to them, we do not have offs, we do not have a close shop timing,we are never let off, we do not have people to take over our jobs when we go on leave. The work just piles up.

And when we see the company lines in effect working only 1 day out of 4 days (due to the rotation of duty instructors), we cringe and cry out of injustice. But alas, my superior had to work past midnight and get verbally abused constantly. I count my lucky stars already.

So in my short time in my job, I have placed down all prejudices. Who cares about who's getting the better deal? There's always people more slack, and more people more hardworking. The theory of relativity is just making things complicated.

And after I placed down my prejudices, I find myself happier. I no longer compare, as it is meaningless. I find a new hobby, which I am really in love with now. I no longer see people in different lights, and for that I no longer feel the changes of attitude and feelings that I once had when I deal with different people.

Life is just a game. Why treat it so seriously? Does it make you lose a limb if someone is slacking off while you are working?

Life is not so complicated.

Can you see the ray of hope beyond it?

2008-12-06T17:59:00.000+08:00

Bob and Robert were the best of childhood friends. They grew up together in their little suburbs, where they were the happiest people in town. Circumstances abound, they headed in different directions. Before they left, they promised to meet back at a little dug-out cross they made at the cherry tree behind their backyard.

And they departed.

Bob was the best of linguists. His charm and demeanor quickly earned him many acquaintances. His ability to create conversations is almost... unnerving. Nonetheless, the many many acquaintances he made helped him in his endeavors. He swiftly built up a series of networks where he took shortcuts, and little effort, and he climbed to the top of the social hierarchy. He is never missing from anybody's wedding, parties, events. He is in everybody's eyes, a social butterfly.

Robert on the other hand, was quite the smartest person. Through sheer dedication and talent, he immersed himself into the sea of knowledge, endlessly thronging through the knowledge. He earned himself numerous scholarships. During holidays, he would use it for attachments. His free time was always to "gain experience". The trove of experience he built up is immense for his age, and he continued working and working tirelessly. He was, also at the very top of his career.

The first meeting at the cross was a joyous one. Being in their prime, they joked about everything. Seeing that both of them had not much time as they had their careers in mind, they decided to meet up 25 years later, when they are 55 years old, at the very same spot.

25 long years has passed.

When Robert stepped into the town, it wasn't quite like before. The windows swayed, the houses creaked, and the trees were dying. The town was sapped out its life as the young people left in pursuit of their dreams. The sunset cast a pall over the town, leaving a long silhouette behind Robert. The winds gusted, creating an impression of an old ghost town.

And there he saw, his best friend and only friend, Bob. At the same cross.

He was sobbing.

And he looked up. Then he laughed.

"Haha, Robert. My friend. You are the same as me now. Look at yourself. We are back."

They were both in rags.

Robert walked towards the cross and sat down on the soft wet ground. He blended into the picture. They both remained silent. Finally, Bob asked,

"My friend, how are you? What has brought you to this desolate place in such a state? Surely you can dress better for our joyous reunion?"

Robert sighed. A gust of wind howled through the broken windows, as the clattering panes created a symphony of melancholy.

"It is....as magical as it begun. You know, I have worked so hard for my life. Work is me. I really cannot see anything besides work that can drive my life. You can't really blame me for that. I'm so smart. Not trying to be arrogant here, but I thought that since I'm so smart, it would be a waste if I didn't work. So I kept working and working."

"Then, my wife left me. She left without seeing me. Just a note, on my work table. Here."

'Dear, I really love you. I remember the times when we first met. We would do all those crazy things. I was so happy I found you. But perhaps times change as man change. You have turned so in love with work. Your heart cannot accommodate two loves. I feel so empty at times. The little bits of free time, you always volunteered for extra work. You once promised me you would bring me to Paris, to Venice, to see the dandelion fields, the serene forests of England.

Now I can't even get a word from you. The passion within us has died. I'm so sorry...."

"By then, I immediately quit my job. She left without a trace. Gone. Vanished. All I have is this little piece of note she left me."

"Now I suddenly remember, I forgot. I forgot the last time I truly savoured the aroma of a cup of coffee. I forgot when was the last time I played soccer, just like the good old times we played before. I forgot the last time I watched a movie. A movie! Remember remember? Remember how we fought over a peep hole in the fence for the screening? Haha. These memories are nostalgic, really. See what are we old men doing here! Haha!"

And Robert sank back into silence, folding his legs in, and hugging them, staring at the little note. Bob looked at him.

"Ta my friend, let me tell you mine. Haha. I wonder why it sounds all the same man. Ya know, twas the time when it seemed like I knew every single celebrity and person in the world. I can greet every few people on the streets. Haha, ya know how proud I am? I feel so... influential. And powerful."

"Then that little fate plays his tune again. The finance industry crashed overnight, and I began almost bankrupt. Haha, here goes, one of the stories you always always hear. I knocked on the doors of people I know. Ha! Suddenly I'm the loneliest person in the world! Ya know, if you know so many people, there's no way I can keep close contact with every single one of them. So I told myself, never mind. Get more friends. Know more. Ha! Now they all act like they don't know me. "EHHH, I not very close to you." "Ehhh, sorry I promised someone already. PHET"

"Ha! I eventually became bankrupt, lost everyone I knew, and was begging on the streets. Ya know, it seemed like a fairy-tale to me, like you know, those stores we heard when we were young. Then I knew! So the "friends" I made didn't really trust me, cause I have so many "friends"! Ha! It seemed so funny to me at that time. Then I thought a bit, if a friend of mine had lots of friends, I won't be really sure if he cares about me. Simple logic right? God gives 24 hours only, there are only that many my "friend" can care."

And once again, Bob sank into silence too.

The winds blew. It blew away everything. And almost everything of Bob and Robert. Were they lonely? Were they happy in the end? Nobody knows. It's an ironic world.

Kommodore?

2008-09-13T02:31:00.000+08:00

21 weeks. It has been 21 weeks. 21 weeks of slogging through, harbouring near a waist-deep marsh, dragging myself for the long marches, screaming out loud for the charges, and the quieter moments cooking instant noodles in the wilderness.

The toughness of dragging yourself up everyday for the stand-to is....unimaginable. The knoll where we slept on, overseeing the entire city, where the night snacks (in the form of "ji pa! ji pa!") comes. The places where even the locals fear to go at night, the places where we lost all hopes, and yet managed to transverse through. The valley where we lost ourselves in for 4hrs, wondering if we are going to emerge out like "Survivor: Taiwan". The finale of a non-stop 16km march for our Navigation Ex.

The joy of carrying a bazooka daily, where we were trapped in a typhoon, where our place was flooded waist-deep. The torture of the 37 degrees Celsius weather, and the wet freezing nights.

All the tough moments, all the mind-breaking difficulties. Yet we left all teary-eyed, knowing that we have all put in our best, forged great friendships, and we left behind absolutely no regrets.

And we did have fun. Shopping around in Taipei, experiencing fully the warmth and enthusiasm of the people there. Learning to appreciate their national sport: baseball. The moments where hours can be wasted discussing girls. Our wonderfully adept lodgings (another hotel's toilet was bigger than our whole room). The outstanding variety of wonderful food.

Great times, great moments, it's time to move on.

Imagine my agony when I got wind of news that I was to protect the sacred jewel of Singapore called Pulau Tekong. I envisioned myself bashing through more jungles, only to be disappointed. Nonetheless, we have to make do with what we are given, and to learn the most from what fate provided us.

It's not a matter of we have to. But a matter of we get to.

It is this mentality that has pushed me on. Whenever the going gets tough, I tell myself, "Come on! I get to march in this thunderstorm. To sleep on this cliff. How many people will have the chance to do it?!" And by deluding myself continuously, I survived through the course with pleasant memories.

I get to serve NS.

I get to do so many things that many people have no opportunities to do.

Just do it.

Friend or....Family

2008-07-20T22:21:00.000+08:00

A successful man needs to dwell on his past, capitalise and work hard in the present, and plan for the future.

A happy man needs to forget the past and the future, but to focus on the happiness the world can give in the present.

So can a man be successful and happy at the same time?

-------------------------------------------------------------

Time has passed by quickly. As one can look forward to nothing but the weekly book-out, the weeks have leaped forward, bringing with it the minutes of your life. As time has become an increasingly rare luxury, I find particular difficulty in finding a balance.

My father likes to pride himself as a connoisseur who seeks to find the best food with the best value. I would go on random trips with him, deliberately (or not so deliberate) getting lost, stumble upon the nearest restaurant, and feast while acting like a critic. We can lament about the closure of probably the best roti john outlet in Plaza Singapura, of how the Naan at the basement of Sim Lim Square fell from grace. We will revel in the dim sum surprises beneath Odeon Tower, and the fantastic beef hor fun from a roadside stall in the cold winter in Hong Kong. Or the most delicious Da Bing in a secluded spot in Beijing.

My mum will always chide my Chinese, calling me un-chinese for my measly standard in Chinese. The occasional baking and cooking lessons are so much fun. And the steady stream of visitors, be it relatives or customers, bring much life and laughter into the house. Add that with my explosive brother, who never fails to get himself into all sorts of funny situations.

When the tough time comes, when the route marchs through the night gets increasingly monotonous, I would often have flashbacks of the different pool sessions I have with my friends. The different times where we wander aimlessly for a place to have dinner. The late coffee breaks. The cycling around the neighbourhood to catch a soccer match at a nearby coffeeshop. The moody moods when it comes to particularly expensive dinners (like Les Amis), or the ventures in Chijmes. The shopping, the movies, the simple bitching around under the sun, the conspiracy theories, or the act cute behaviours.

These memories are what that always push me on.

So many things to do, so little time.

"Sorry I cannot make it for movie, family shopping and dim sum later."

"Sorry I cannot go yum cha or Marche today. My friends asking me out for pool."

So many excuses. I have not found a balance yet.

Silence and Absolution

2008-07-13T18:40:00.000+08:00

The days and minutes are passing by swiftly. Lost in the wilderness and far away from civilisation, time has passed quickly. And with it, life is withering away, as I am seemingly trapped in an oblivion of purpose-less.

Or is it so?

Many people lament that NS is a waste of life. Daylight robbery of 2 years of their lives. Unable to see anything beyond the cleaning of rifles, or the loading of stores, what we see is a pit of emptiness.

Due to a moment of folly, a young man was once locked up and imprisoned. Finding life in the lifeless bars unbearable, he sought a way to lament to his father outside. Once the guard passed him the reply, he tore open to see. There were only a few words:

"2 men peered out from the grills. One saw the colourless earth, the another saw the bright moon."

I always thought that all that matters is in the mind. Attitude determines your altitude in life. Why do some people soar so high, while the others languish in the cruel bottoms? Are miracles natural or man-made? I can't make a difference to the society, but I can try to make a difference to one man's life.

It is this pursuit that has pushed me through the bodily punishments of training, knowing that my small achievement can encourage my fellow sufferers to push on. It is when I said that I might OOC, and to have people saying that I am their pillar of support, that if I quit would be to quit on them, that is when I feel heartened and have a sense of purpose. It is this purpose that drives me now.

Different people have different ways of feeling life. Love, revenge, fame, wealth, there are many ways to gauge your sense of purpose. Purpose is important as once one is stripped of his purpose, he will have lost his identity, his ambition. He will be nothing more than a corpse devouring material delights, only to find on his death bed, that nothing was ever done.

That sounds convulated.

I am starting to hate it when people start comparing how "chao keng" or "garung" one can get.

"Oh, so you PES C storeman lah, wah lao chao keng."

"See those PES E ones. So good sia, 8-5 job leh"

"Arty so slack, wait you come my OCS course then you die arh!"

"Don't compare with me can? !@#%$#$ My SOC got bring dummy hor."

And the examples are endless, given that every single guy I know would talk about NS once the conversation starts. But what exactly qualifies one to comment on others? Only when they have went through them, that is what I strictly believe. You are not qualified to say that one's life path is smoother until you have really went through the sweat and blood the other person went through.

What makes you think a man does lesser than a specialist? Or a specialist lesser than an OCT?

What makes you think that people's 8-5 job is better than your stay-in one?

What makes you think that a tankie is a better/ worse life than an infantry trooper?

What, makes you so different that you can look down on others?

Is it the elitist culture? Is it one's upbringing? Is it one's ignorance?

There are no singular answer, and there will never be one. It's time to stop gloating or boasting. Every life is unique in itself. You might complain that the PES E guy have a good life, but would you exchange for that job for a hole in your heart?

It's time to stop deluding oneself and to stop complaining. It is either, suck it up, or seek to improve it. Raising one's ego would not help anything.

My dad never complained about the better lives of his more illustrious brothers or relatives in his family. To him, it is worthless unless one finds the balance and be happy. He learnt by himself programming, auditing, plumbing, cooking, table-tennis, electronics and the admiration of music.

And never once he complained. That is what I respect him for.

---------------------------------------------------------------

2 more weeks and I will be in a foreign land.

Au Revoir

2008-06-01T21:26:00.000+08:00

It has been a long six months since I came here. It is also a time when I came in here no longer as a civilian.

It has been a long while.

National Service is a phase of life, imposed harshly upon you as one swaggers around in life. It grabs hold of you, fixating you to a singular position, where you can finally stop and look around you. The past, the present, the future. The enormous stress of boredom forces you to think.

It's like a bird whose wings are clipped. It can only dream of the past when it flew freely, and to think of the future once it can fly again.

National Service is also a wealth cove of experiences. Never before would you dream of firing a rifle in pool of water waist-deep, with frogs swimming in it. Never before would you think of crawling in a stream late at night just to find some random tree with the much desired checkpoint. Never before would you imagine yourself running kilometres after kilometres, and surpassing your own limits.

Or the times where you could find a group of people who seems to think the same as you, living together. Or how excellent canteen food and washing toilets can be. Can you 7 months ago, imagine yourself bashing through thick vegetation in a huge downpour, and still be jovial and happy.

It has been a rollercoaster ride of surprises and unimaginables.

National Service brings together so many types of people, to live under the same roof, and do the same things together. Too long have I been stuck with the same group of people, to be blinded into believing that this world is so pretty and nice. To listen to the stories of bookies running away from cops, or people who are teethering on the borders of poverty, one would not imagine these people sitting right next to you, joking and suffering together. It is something that neither civilian life nor even OCS can provide.

National Service forces one to take sides. One can no longer aim to please everyone, nor like everyone. How do find that person? Or him? And most crucially, how do you find yourself?

Only recently, I found myself hating some people. I have always tried to convince myself, that no one is inferior. The cookhouse aunties, they may know some ways of cleaning up things that you might not know. The taxi driver know how to find the shortest shortcuts. The poorly paid know how to save and scrimp. These people have a common thing in them -- they strive to survive and live life to the fullest they can, and to seek to improve life. They each have different sets of skills that we do not know.

The construction worker that we always comment knows how to operate a crane, or weld iron frames together. Can you?

The pet peeve comes from people who seek to delude themselves from life. They attempt to create an imaginary world, a dream where they live inside. They go clubbing, drink, have fun. These activities are nothing bad. But the irritable people have something in common -- they have lost their passion and fight for life. They abandoned their future and purpose for the temporary material pleasures. They no longer fight to improve themselves.

I know and listened to people who would tell me one moment how they regretted their past and seek to redeem themselves, and the other moment, would ask me to go clubbing during weekends. My moral obligation is to stop them from degrading, but alas, who am I to comment? In what position am I fit to intervene when I am also seeking to redeem myself.

--------------------------------------------------------

And it is in National Service that one of my pet peeves exploded. Knowledge is about 学问, about asking questions. My small brain can only find a few reasons as to why people ask questions, so here goes:

1. They are geniunely interested and desire to learn more.

2. They are asking for the sake of it, to attract attention and to look "interested".

3, They are not thinking deeply enough into the issue to be asking superficial questions.

4. They are totally clueless about what's going on, and needs to catch up.

Of which, only option 1 is fully valid, and option 4 is acceptable. In National Service I found a pal and good friend who also confided that he hated people asking questions. It shows how much they think into the question, because if you think deep enough and hard enough, you will find the answer.

I believe the culture now encourages irresponsible questioning. All the hype of oral participation, has led to people seeking answers from others rather than to seek the answers themselves. To ask for the sake of it, is pitiful.

---------------------------------------------------------

National Service brought together so many people that my world shrinks. I've been seeing a lot of people who would know me, while I embarassingly, do not remember them. For some reason, I just felt that: 好友情难求。Good friends can be made, good friendships are hard to last. For some reason, the closer the relationship, the further one feels from each other in the future.

It's a weird feeling.

And finally, in National Service, where all the past luxuries are stripped away from you, and you are plunged into a world of equals, that you start to cherish the past. It is in National Service that I shed tears for the first time in a long while, scolding myself on how I have missed all the kindness the world has shown me. It is this realisation that makes one finally starts to find one's path in life. To be kind, to be evil, to be jovial, to be indifferent. All these all the same.

It is part of a journey of finding yourself.

2007-12-08T21:33:00.000+08:00

"Don't don't talk leh. Isolate yourself for what?"

"Smile a bit. Don't look so forced...."

These comments have been coming in a barrage recently, in a multitude of events that were neither truly significant or exactly memorable. As much as I wanted to utter any words of wisdom, my miniscule brain fails to respond. It's like having loads of demand with zero supply.

I have always believed that silence is a much better virtue than eloquence, no matter how the society views otherwise. It is harder to be silent at the correct time, than to speak at the appropriate time. My personal dearth of knowledge makes me incapable of speaking with depth, and it's a deficiency that I personally feel sad about. However, as much as my tongue-tied mouth fails to speak, I observe as many cases of people failing to preserve the appropriate moment of silence, making an utter fool of themselves.

Of course, there are many reasons to... speak. To communicate your feelings. To display your arguments. To speak of facts, teach and learn. To make friends. To buy stuff. The list goes on endlessly.

It's my rule of thumb to try to ascertain and establish that the "Facts" I say are truly "Facts". I find it exceedingly embarassing to realise that what I said 4 hrs ago in the phone turned out to be false and made up. Call me a shadow of the past, a person who dwells in the past, but I find these "words" irresponsible.

Of course, there is no dearth of people willing to shoot their tongues off without thinking if what they say is true. I don't blame those who accidentally make a few mistakes. I don't blame (as much) those who shoot around for the sake of their jobs. As for those who makes it a habit, it shows something about the person.

"Better to remain silent and be thought a fool, than to speak out and remove all doubt,"
Abraham Lincoln

"I have often regretted my speech, never my silence."
Publilius Syrus

I have never regretted as well.

Going on a less serious tone, Job and Yuan Xin's (or Plato's) The Republic has been excruciatingly painful to read. I won't profess to be an intellect for reading this type of books. (And I find it foolish of one to claim so). And as much everyone sing the praises of Plato, his arguments....I am not taken in as yet. As of Book 1, all I have perceived are generalisations and oversimplication to the tone of being childish. Perhaps I am too dumb to read Plato.

Dumb enough to take up neopets.

De Javu

2007-11-13T22:28:00.000+08:00

A few more miserly days and it will be over.

Hooked onto online manga recently. Been reading online manga everyday before going for exams (Sicko). There is this particular site that's pretty good.

onemanga.com

Bitter Virgin is nice! Can't wait for 3rd volume.

And I can't believe I got hooked onto romance manga.

And I almost laughed during the econs exam. Attempting two 25 marks questions? Must have gone crazy. And Qns 1a) and Qns 1b) answers seems so alike....

Doodlings

2007-11-11T09:25:00.000+08:00

4 more days, and the (arguably)biggest test of my life is supposed to be over. Yet, there is little sense of excitement or fear or any sort of emotions evoked. Interestingly, I have been starting to pick up those lost hobbies recently, such as playing the piano, swimming, or basketball diligently. I am starting to make my breakfast, and to have 2am supper.

The peak of my studying is (damnit) Block Test 2. Ever since, the mugging steam has gone down down down. The papers felt a little funny, and I'm left to chuckle to myself after every single paper. Vain? Perhaps. Console myself? Maybe.

If one were to track my daily life pattern, it would seem extremely monotonous. Wake up at around 12 noon. Doze around. Drag myself to study. Eat. Sleep. Add in the occasional KAP trips which were entirely unproductive (many times reduced to observing "hunting" and "ogling"), and that's life. Speaking of which, a normal person boarding a bus will be spotted and observed by the survillence cameras on the bus at least 4 times.

A random thought just went through. IF we were to have perfect information, how terrible the world would be. As I observe from the sidelines the "hunting" expeditions ventured by others, this fear struck me. If everyone were to know exactly who are the best prospects, zillions of people like me who are below average will be kissing their bolsters even when they are old. And fortunately everyone had different tastes, the world is so much better with less competition. This is what I call "Allocative and Productive Efficiency".

The Little Prince once said: "What makes the desert beautiful, is that somewhere it is hiding a well."

I would say: "What makes my life more interesting and less boring, is that somewhere sometime I might encounter the random chiobu."

You are beautiful humming in the background.

If everything went smoothly as planned, will life be great?

Or does life lie in its unexpectedness?

Beauty? Bah.

2007-10-28T18:05:00.000+08:00

Is it the outer appearance that matters more than the inner substance?

Romanticists would outright deny that. Extreme realists believe so. So where does the line blurs?

It is undeniable that in most cases, the outer appearance of a person (be it looks, status, whatsoever), will determine to a fairly large extent, one's success. A person's eloquence can get him/her numerous acquaintances. A person's good looks can get him/her admiration and (arguably), more friends (I shall not enter into the debate as to whether these "friends" are truly friends). A person's status can get him/her easier passage into the high ends of society.

The outer appearance is like a passport. Of course, there are loads of people who would claim that they see more of the inner beauty than the facade outside. Compare it with a scholarship advertisement. Notice they only seem to emphasize on "Good leadership capabilities", or "Good co-curriculum records", brushing aside the "Good academic records". It seems to give an impression that the non-academic achievements are far more important, or even the pivotal key to one landing a scholarship.

That's because non of those who end up in the shortlist ever had anything less than 4As. "Good academic records" is a prerequisite for anyone even dreaming of applying a scholarship. It's like:

"Oh so you have 4 As. Well we shall then consider you"

Since everyone who are in the shortlist comprises of straight As, it therefore makes sense that the non-academic achievements will be the deciding factor.

But is the outer appearance everything?

I have been getting increasingly bombarded by comments such as:

"Oh, look. That guy lives in Namly Avenue."

"Cool! Her dad fetches her in a Ferrari to school"

"OMGS. Look at that LV bag he got! Awww, and that rolex watch."

"Whoa, sniff. Chanel No.5 everyday"

By the way, the subjects above are students. But think about it, are those things theirs? Does the "possession" of these luxuries entitle them to higher status, granting them more respect? The riches belong to their parents, not them. Stripped of the outer grandeur, they are no different from any of us. Whether a person living in Bukit Timah Road, or a person living in Redhill makes no difference to me. In fact, I have seen many "poorer" people behaving in a way that deserves far more respect than those "richer" kids.

And most ironically, many of these so-called "branded" goods are indistinguishable from those "inferior" goods. Again I see people who wear "Baleno" or pasar malam shirts looking smarter than those who wear say, "Armani Xchange". One of the funniest things I encountered is

"Hmm, the polo looks not bad sia. Quite cool. Where you got it from? Let me guess.....Burberry?"

"Erms, no? Bossini."

Silence....

However,

After all that debate,

Most of us,

including me,

will return back to their absurd lives, embracing these practices even though we have outlawed them minutes ago. We will say that beauty is only skin-deep, then we will go about ogling 2 minutes later at some hot hunk or girl.

Humans are funny indeed.

On a side note,

Something funny happened the day before. I was taking the bus back home from the crazy KAP "mug" camp which had zero productivity (What do you expect from hours of commenting on how chio some girl is?"

I dozed off halfway since it's a bloody long journey and it's quite late. Then when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was a pair of sexy legs next to me. This rather chio girl sat next to me some time when I was dozing off.

But, there were loads of other empty seats (when I mean empty, it means two by two empty) in the bus. My first reaction?

Fumbled around to check if my wallet and phone were stolen. Wth.

2007-10-22T19:37:00.000+08:00

Friend:
1. Somebody who trusts and is fond of another.
2. Somebody who thinks well of or is on good terms with somebody else.

Contact:
1. An acquaintance who may be socially or professionally helpful.

Some people have many friends. Some people have many contacts. Both are entirely different things.

So who makes the criteria of a friend then?

Apparently the above definition works. This naturally includes all those who you have spoken/ SMSed/ chatted with in the past week, in good terms. It may include your neighbours, classmates, activity partners, etc.

Then it gets blurry, the difference between someone who makes the criteria as a friend, and someone who is a contact.

So let's go down the list.

Are the people who you have spoken to in some random place considered friends? It can mean those who you meet daily, spoke once out of funny circumstances, and both of you never spoke again.
eg. "Hey yo, let's play soccer."

Are the people whom you have met and spoken to in a 1-5 days activity event considered friends?
eg. Sabbaticals. Travel Group.

And of course, these comparisons are all relative. There are some people who no matter what, you will consider them as a friend, despite perhaps interacted little. There are also some people who you will only consider a contact, despite having much interaction.

Prelims Over!!!!

2007-10-02T18:27:00.000+08:00

HAh finally all the results came back. Did not exactly perform up to my expectations, nor did I do too badly. What better can I ask for after this gungho experiment of not studying anything before exams.

And I'm seriously surprised for my geog. Plain smoking, and one of the rare moments I ever had like 10 min left with nothing to write, which did happen for all my papers though. Anyway they accepted my grandeur smoke, including a very pleasing "A pleasure to read :)" comment on my "most-smoked" essay on ageing population. Goodness I must have repeated Marian Chong a zillion times by now (though I did add in some random bits and vocab [such as penchant/ pertinent] to spice up a little).

Hah sounds like bragging liao...

They were saying that for people to be willing to learn something, they must first be interested. I would argue otherwise. "For one to be interested, they must first start scoring". Chinese happened to be my favourite subject before JC life. I didn't know why. Until now, I finally realized maybe it's because I have been scoring like nobody's business then.

Now Chinese is like the most useless subject suddenly. Whether it's the subject itself, or the people who taught them making it look useless [not pertaining to anyone directly:)], that's debatable. But it's true that those few setbacks in Chinese, and a few monumental successes in GP and English (including one hugely amusing AQ that's seems to be still circulating in the downstream), English has catapulted itself into a more prominent role all of a sudden.

I've been reading Amy Chua's World On Fire after my last Clash of Civilisations. I must say it's rather interesting, in particular the recounts of her own trips in various countries. It gives a new insight into the geopolitics of the world (or so it tries).

There's always a constant debate on how we try to distinguish a true talent. Most of the time, we look at his/her grades, the overly-clattered CCAs and CIPs achievement which god knows if they ever gained from it or were just fabrications. There's one very catching phrase in Voltaire's Candide, which did summarise practically the entire debate.

"Fools admire everything in an established classics."

Precisely because we don't have any other benchmarks we are forced to look to these "certifiers". As much I would like to read any books, the sheer amount of books and junk books alike in the market makes it impossible to read all. I can only turn to reviews, or even easier, "Penguin Classics", with their characteristic black cover.

I found Tolstoy's books a little draggy for my taste, including the horrendously voluminous War and Peace. Austen's books were a pain practically, I had to knock myself awake every few minutes. Some of those acclaimed books out there, I wonder how they ever made it to the shelves without first being prescribed and sold out as natural sleeping inducers.

And look at Lee Ang's Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The martial artists flew better than Superman, and they can transform into carnal animals in the blink of an eye just for the visual stimulation. Can't help but wallow at our signature Chinese movie. Goodness!

Speaking of which, it's not exactly such a bad thing to have no foolproof benchmark. Think of a world where we can rate the looks of people on a 1 to 100 scale that will be displayed on a cool futuristic specs. Half of us would be single for life, including me. And as much as one argues that inner beauty is more important, looks still takes precedence. Just like when universities and scholarships alike say results not important, because all the people in their short-lists have identical quadruple A's, and those who don't have won't even make the mark.

Of that, there's the very enriching and insightful library experience. But that's for next.

Virgin Post :)

2007-09-23T16:38:00.001+08:00

Phew. Finished The Godfather in the dead of the night (Around 3am I guess). That's about 6 hrs in a row of reading. It's a really intriguing book. Now I can't wait to watch the classic movie! Going by the sheer amount of saucy details, the book should have went to the M18 or even R21 category.

Note: Down into my favourites.

Oh haha hi bloggie:) Been a long while since I ever touched you.

And it's really boring nowadays.