Sheyanne Rainstorm

Creactivation.

2012-01-11T02:04:00.002+08:00

2:04am.

"Well, I should be well in bed by now. Otherwise I'll wake up and go to work (army) a zombie."

I've thought of that like an infinite times. Result? I always wake up like a zombie. Having a crappy job doesn't alleviate the unhappiness as well. But before I go off tangent and start my army rant, I'd like to share my thoughts on books for tonight. (Or morning, if you're OCD like that.)

I was in the shower and suddenly, I felt like something lit up in my head. Y'know, one of those epiphanous, life-changing, split-second moments in the toilet. I just had to write something about Zeus's nine beautiful daughters: The Muses! As a designer, (writer, poet, author, musician - although self-proclaimed) I always felt that trying to come up with an idea or solution is akin to trying to flirt with 'em pretty ladies - all nine at the same time.

Imagine the commotion your girlfriend would make if you were caught two-timing; we're talking about nine-timing over here!

Yes, it is that tough. Sometimes, they refuse to talk to you, other times, they coquettishly flirt with you. And some of the rare few precious moments you just get laid. Rather poor analogy, I'll admit, but that's the closest to what I can describe to you in a fantastical and poetic sense.

By now, you guys will have known that I've suddenly metamorphosed into an avid reader. I guess you can call it opportunity of restrains, that is, I have nothing else to do, so why not read?

And due to the nature of my future prospects, I realise I have to interact with those lovely Muses all the time. Thus, being the resourceful me, I went to search for some idea-creation-thingy book.

And lo and behold! Ideation - and all the things about Muses and thinking about thinking and your proverbial box and and all - means really different things to different people.

The Riddle by Andrew Razeghi happens to be a solid, no-nonsense book. It aims to guide you to effective ideation through logical thoughts and repeated training. In short, the author wants to remove away the random factor of Aha! moments.

Now, The Nine Modern Day Muses (And A Bodyguard) by Jill Baldwin Badonsky happens to be quite a different book altogether. The author personifies the Muses and instead of guidelines that are logical, ideas backed by facts and all, it's more of a feel-good book. It's more about spirituality. There's all this stuff about Faith and be good and all.

By now, one might think: Females tend to gravitate towards the 'feel-good' stuff while males like to make logic out of things. (Of course, stereotypes.) But as usual, me being me, I like to take the middle stand.

It's always good to have a bit of both; the best of both worlds. I believe that whatever works for you in ideation, works best. That is, different people have different methods and must be in different conditions for creative work. Take Me a couple of years ago for example; I kinda love the melancholy feel of rain, moodiness and a little tipple of wine. Makes me think and write well.

Perhaps, things have changed and what not, and I've been hit with setbacks and stuff, but overall, as of now, I feel good about my creative writing. Like BAM! you get lucky with nine lovely ladies.

(Perhaps, that's why they call it 9gag.)

Hah!

Anyway, my hair's dry now, so I'll go to sleep. Really, just a filler post, incoherent thoughts and all. I wonder if anyone at all is still reading my blog though, it's like SO OLD ALREADY.

If you do, HOLLER AT THE TAG BOARD! I know it's infested with bots, but I do check every single message every time I get on. This gives me motivation to write better.

So, good night for now!

2102.

2012-01-02T01:42:00.003+08:00

Lo and behold, yet another year gone by.
Are we dying by the minute or are we living to die?
Slowly ticking away on the faceless time,
Who, one wonders, does the Grim Reaper not bind?

The tinkle of ice, the wine swirls and sighs,
Of a tender face's reminiscence, those days of low and high.
A night time's secret rendezvous with the Priestess of the Night;
she who captures me soul, let my wings take flight.

Herald the new year with new friends and acquaintances,
For love is short and your life long and full of twist and turns.
Woe be to he who seeks fame and fortune, thine soul lost to the vices.
The scrupulous man, ridiculed by society, shall one day rise.

There are many values that I hold dear,
And by these I live, not with a single hint of fear.
For 'tis a new year, and one must advance, step ahead.
Reach out, experience and alas, I must try to get out of my bed.

--

Just a short poem as I drink from my little wine glass, contemplating about the new year. It's actually just another day, really. I really love the way the ice goes 'clink' when I swirl it round and round. Just an elegant sight to behold, once the Muse takes control, my writing starts to flow. Hahaa!

I figured somethings out. It's funny how aha! moments don't appear when you desperately try to find them. But one must be separated from mundane distractions. When I stop doing routine stuff, gaming and really, everyday stuff, I start to feel a bit more motivated. I don't wanna jinx it, but it's as if the Muse is teasing me. Now, I slowly start to get the feeling of writing back. On the tips of my fingers, the words on my mind linger, slowly start to take form and mingle, to make the whole creative process simple.

Also got a couple of 'designer' books where they kinda explain/teach/tell you how to find that eureka moment. Although I still quite firmly believe (unless convinced otherwise) that we all have our own different ways of finding ideas, some say that there can be logic behind creativity.

I myself subscribe to this fantastic notion that creativity is a force that noone wants to reckon with. It is mysterious and elusive, and liken to the Fairies or the Gods. I remember reading an article like that, perhaps for a GP essay. It's nice to mystify something when we have very little knowledge on the subject. Of course, it aids us in making it 'likeable', because humans always like to go along with the flow.

See something you don't like, and nothing's gonna change your mind. Same with mystifying the eureka moment. If you go along with the notion that creativity is a random event, one that comes up when you least expect it, then yes, an idea does pop up occasionally, when you least expect it to pop up. Is it the power of suggestion or otherwise, I am too limited in knowledge to further explain the situation. But it's good food for thought though.

Anyway, I guess I'm rambling already. Maybe it's because I've taken a 9gag page too many.

So I'll stop for now, here's wishing you great success in your endeavors in 2012.

And for good ORD.

AND MAN CITY JUST LOST TO SUNDERLAND ON THE 90TH MINUTE! <3

Meow. Good nights.

One True Meow.

2011-12-21T23:43:00.002+08:00

Often times, at some juncture of life, you'd feel like the the crushed ball of paper above: Useless, worthless, past your prime. It's really a mini-crisis in life when you feel thus depressed, because you suddenly lose all inspiration and motivation. To compound to the problems, every time you see another person, you'd start to devalue your worth by virtue of upwards comparison - in short, you'd wallow in self-pity and feel like crap.

Everyone's been there, done that. What about times when it recurs? I sometimes find it hard to get out of this rut I'm in. I'm staying in the middle of my comfort zone. Every single second there degrades my abilities, erodes my confidence. I become worthless over time, not unlike how money depreciates when no one uses it. I want to go out, but I'm afraid of errors. I'm scared of failure, because I've had a few regrets too many.

So do I go forward? I do empathize with Cloud *ahem* because all he needs is someone to bring him out of the shadow of Aeris' death.

But let us not turn this into a rant post, for 'tis the season of joy and hope!

If I manage to record a nice Nyan rendition, I may just post it as a Christmas gift for everyone! (Also because I am a lazy Scrooge and don't want to waste money buying stuff and wrapping stuff for everyone.)

Let me wallow in my self-pity and here's wishing y'all a merry, blessed Christmas! MEOW!

Sleep.

2011-12-05T02:38:00.003+08:00

3am.

Good evening, people. After sleeping at these kind of times for so long, I find it very difficult to sleep 'early' now. But it's okay, at least I have something to do now; write.

Call it a psychological effect, but ever since changing my hair parting to the left, I seem to have a lot more creative flair! It's like that moment before sleep when you can't really sleep and end up tossing and turning in bed, I actually had lots and lots of ideas. To write and to talk about. Ideas that are, in theory, fantastic. Execution-wise, some may not be that plausible.

Not sure whether there's a rift in brain-dimension, or I (people) seem to generally get inspiration at the most inconvenient/unimaginable of time! You contemplate deep thoughts during shower, muse about life's options and choices before bed and some even claim to be inspired while taking a dump!

Anyway, here's a call-out to my beautiful lady, Muse, who is sooo darn elusive. Plays so damn hard to get and when you finally get a hold of her, she just slips through your fingers. Will you please get back here so I can finally write a decent story-plot for my RPG?

Ahem. A bit of background here. I've been trying to write a plot for my RPG using some spare time (and lots of office materials) while in camp. Basically, balancing hero classes is a massive bitch. I can't seem to calculate a lot of stuff. (That is, damage, armor reduction, level curve etc...)

It is imperative that I learn - or at least familiarize - myself with these issues because I can foresee myself using 'em a lot in the not-so-far future.

Anyway, football tomorrow at 6am in camp, so I better be catching whatever sleep I can catch. Like I said, my sleep debt is probably graver than Greece's financial debt. Oh and Christmas period turns out to be quite a hectic season. There are possibilities of jams, a whole slew of parties to attend and events to manage.

Taking it all up ...

wait for it...

wait for it...

.
.
.

And of course I enjoy parties and all but seriously, planning for such stuff is a massive bitch. But when you successfully plan one and everyone else enjoys themselves, then you will...
Bwahaha. Gonna spam you guys with ALL!!! the memes.

Sorry, it's getting to me. It's the night, I swear! I'm not talking to/with my alter ego or anything. Please, we're harmless, we're harmless! We just wants it, the preciousssss. (If you didn't get the reference, please hang yourself.) On a side note, anyone realises how Gollum (Smeagol's split-ego) is actually the result of the cruel abuse of Sauron, Humans and Fate? Yeah, if your life's screwed up, think about Smeagol.

Argh, I'm side-tracking like mad. Better go sleep now.

GOODNIGHTS!

(And here's a totally random, night shot of a meteor falling. If you wanna get such a shot, I doubt you can get it in Singapore where it's so bright everywhere that you'll probably scare

Rant Filler.

2011-11-06T21:26:00.004+08:00

"Life is a game. And like all games, if you don't cheat, you lose."

What y'all will be thinking will probably be this: Doesn't that imply good guys will finish last? What about morals and ethics?

Of course, the question of 'ethics or success' has been asked, discussed, beaten up and flogged by almost single person who is capable of the slightest bit of reasoning. But more often than not, we find ourselves stuck somewhere in between. We're divided by heart and mind. Logically, in order to obtain materialistic freedom and perhaps for fame or other personal motives, we will have to go by the fastest, easiest method. It doesn't matter if you have to eat babies for breakfast, because if eating babies does get you what you need, then screw it, you're doing it!

That is logical and perfectly understandable. We're bred in a society which prides itself on 'meritocracy'. Which is actually a nice substitute for 'if you're not powerful or rich, you're worthless'.

But now, most - if not all of us - have some kind of values inculcated into us. Be it from our parents, from our daily learning, from spirituality, religion - you get what I'm trying to say. I'll pose a simple enough scenario.

Say you want an ice-cream but you don't have enough money to buy one. Then, on your way home, you notice a completely blind, deaf, mute, unguarded and defenseless child with an ice-cream. To top it off, it's a bloody hell Magnum Dark Chocolate ice-cream.

1. You grab the nearest crow-bar and knock the brains out of that child and grab his ice-cream as your spoil of war.

2. You lament about how some kids get off better than you in life and how everyone else but you have a comparative advantage when born and how blah blah *insert rant here*. (And then you go to a blog and rant it all out as well.)

3. You clench your fist and make a mental note to work your ass off and save every other penny you have to buy that ice-cream.

Just so you know, if you put me in that scenario, I'd choose option 4: Wait for an opportunity to get it. (Remember, remember, some time last December of 7-11 Magnum discounts when two ice-creams are going for the price of one.)

Do note the considerable length of time the different options take to get you your ice cream.

What we have here is this:

A motive: Wanting an ice-cream. The object: An ice-cream. The different methods. The obstacles. And time taken.

Obviously choice 1 gets you your ice-cream the fastest. But you'll be haunted by your evil deeds and can't sleep at night. Choice 2 isn't really going to do anything but make you feel a little better. Choice 3 is what keeps meritocracy going. (No one said life was fair.)

And most of us will probably go with 3 because it is the one that most law-abiding citizens would do. It makes us all feel good and that what we get is what we earn.

But I'll let you in one a little secret: I'm not fine with that.

In fact, I'm utterly disgusted by that. I am dissatisfied that other people are born with silver spoons in their mouth - and don't start saying "Oh but what about the poor people in Africa who are starving". Yes, I am not satisfied. Yes, I am not going to take it down.

But that is a fact of life that I live with. I recognise that we're all unequal. Some of us are smarter in somethings than others. Some of us have talents others don't. Even useless people are good at something - yes you've guessed it, good-for-nothing.

What I want to say is that somewhere, somehow, someplace, things will work. At least, I believe that's the case.

And to get back to the topic at hand, that is the way I intend to cheat.

Not cheating by "Up-Up-Down-Down-Left-Right-Left-Right, B, A, SELECT, Start". Not cheating by robbery or crime.

I intend to cheat by beating the system.

Everything in this world is probably designed by an individual or a group of people for a specific method. If you look at racism, it's a way for the conquerors of ye olde time to divide the people, to make sure that the conquered would never find a reason to unite and overthrow them. If you look at meritocracy, you can argue that it's a specially designed rat wheel to get people to generate more income, ergo higher GDP, ergo governments get richer while you get richer while some other guy is probably losing his or her job.

Which is why I believe I'm rather cynical. If you asked me something like, "Are you for or against meritocracy?" I'll probably not have a stand. Because I know that such a system is already in place, so if you're unhappy about it, either you change it or you beat it.

---

Ehhhhh. I realised I wrote this rant a few weeks ago and decided to procrastinate.

As usual, I'm out of ideas, so I won't bother y'all with any more crap. CONSIDER THIS A FILLER AND YOU'LL HAVE TO STAND WITH MY BULLSHIT RANTS.

AHAHAHAHA.

Trutrutru Scan.

2011-10-28T10:53:00.002+08:00

After I donned the blue cloak of death (aka surgical gown), I glanced at the mirror and hey, I felt sexy. If only I wasn't heading towards immediate death. Definitely would've felt better if I was in a kimono or bathe robes. Anything but that surgical gown. Complete with that head-piece thing and I looked like I was going for a life-or-death surgery.

Believe you me, I was shaking with fear as the nurse laid me onto that round tube-o-death. That feeling of impending doom wouldn't go away as my mind boggled while playing out countless possibilities of how the whole thing may go wrong.

What if the machine blows up when I'm inside? What if it malfunctions and collapses? What if there's an old lady waiting to smooch me when I'm inserted into that tube?

Having a laminated newspaper cutting outside which read "Boy survives operation but dies from freak accident" didn't help either.

Anyway, the MRI experience wasn't the best.

1. It's so damn loud even with ear plugs and ear cushions. It's like BEEP BEEP BEEP POH POH POH PEW PEW PEW and it's freakin' irritating and loud. It's as if the sound penetrates your skull and screws with your brain.

2. You feel as if you're sliding in and out, or as if you're floating/moving, but you're actually not. Very subtle, but you can feel it. Not a great feeling.

3. After the whole thing, you feel as if you want to puke and/or have a migraine. But I think this is mostly due to the nocebo effect.

So, I kinda survived it and I THANK ALL THE GODS that they didn't inject the contrast dye into my brain. I'd have cried there and then.

Oh and the thing about music being played during the scan? It's bullshit. None was offered to me. I'd have them play Beethoven's 5th, or maybe Aria detta la frascobaldi or even better, THIS.

Anyways, signing off now. 10% more before my Sims 3 finishes downloading. (:

Meh.

2011-10-25T01:50:00.003+08:00

Slept for four hours 'til 11pm and now I'm online listening to Yasunori Mitsuda's compositions on Chrono Cross. Very beautiful music and fantastic composing, perhaps only second to the evergreen Nobuo Uematsu.

I won't say I'm a huge fan of classical compositions before, but ever since my musicality has matured, I've realised that I start to accept and love many other different types of music.

Now, Paul Gilbert taught me (albeit through a Youtube video) that there are two kinds of guitarists: One who plays notes a la Yngwie Malmsteen and another who plays it in a rhythm. I wouldn't say one is better than the other, because versatility in a musician is powerful. Look at guitarists like Paul Gilbert and Steve Morse; I consider these two to be my greatest influences in my guitar playing. They can play anything from neoclassical to modern shred to heavy metal to hard rock to jazz to ... anything! It's the sort of musicality in their soul that makes them so special, so unique.

Take nothing from of the purist though, the works of Bach, Beethoven and those of Classical origins are fantastic as well. I'd say musically, I'm very much influenced by the works of Beethoven. The magic of music therefore, lies in its subtlety in grasping you, and making you feel mesmerized.

Of course, I try to emulate the works of these geniuses but my musically and technically, I'm still not up to scratch... yet. I want to find that... special something! That spark in life that's missing like the Frozen Flame. Something that can inspire me to do things, make music, make art.

Anyway, it's inspirational enough that I can listen to fantastic music late into the 'morning' with my awesome Sennheisers.

Because I can hear all the bass, all the guitars, all the vocals, EVERYTHING. SO. DAMN. BEAUTIFULLY.

(Also if I continue any longer, this'll just turn into a rant.)

So signing off now! Probably going to bath and sleep soon... Meh!

Nope.

2011-10-16T01:13:00.004+08:00

Contemplating about moving house, the after-effects and all that makes me shiver in horror. Imagine the dread when the day of moving actually came. You sort of psyche yourself up for it, but when it comes, it still hits you like a train.

Having to pack every single thing in one's residence into mountains of cardboard boxes and then moving them to another location can be one hell of a logistic nightmare. Not only is moving house a troublesome activity, it is also a very costly one; exacerbated by inflated property prices and the rising cost of living in Singapore. A converter air-conditioner can cost up to $3000 to install. A fridge costs $500. The movers were paid $30 for each trip - and we had to do 10 trips, so that's $300 for the truck alone. Then all the miscellaneous fees like room partitioning, eating out, buying drinks, negotiating with the tenants and getting the damned connection working. I swear the ISPs are throttling not only our connection, but also our wallets. $250 just to make a socket? Of course, theirs was the perfectly logical reason: You live in landed property. Ergo, you have loaded pockets and are the sole heir to a multi-billion corporation. Ergo, $250 for a socket is just peanuts. Ergo, you don't mind being scammed. The cost incurred while moving just sky-rockets for me.

But that's not the end!

Imagine the horror when I had to pack and move for four consecutive days. I even had to carry two of my guitars while riding my bicycle and carrying cables. Actually, that wasn't the real part of the nightmare. What really killed me was having no Internet connection for four days.

I ended up spending my day with a few old-school games. O2jam, Touhou, Age of Empires II, Starcraft, Warcraft III, Heroes III... It was actually interesting for a while. Until owning in every single game made me feel bored again. (Remember I have no online capabilities... yet.)

Not to mention while the bus-stop is directly behind my house, I have to walk one whole friggin' circle to get to it 'cos some stupid house is blocking my path. And they have chickens crowing - yes, I mean crowing! - at 6am in the morning. That really pissed me off.

Well, it's not all doom and gloom. At least I managed to get a better 'room'. More space for my stuff - computer and guitars - but the room which I actually sleep in is really just pathetic. Oh and 2 Fat Men is a bit closer to my house now!

---

The 5th day since I officially moved into my new house.

It's still dusty and untidy, but at least it's not as chaotic as a few days before. I'm still having some trouble sleeping and conditioning to my apartment. I'm not sure if I'm glad to be going overseas tomorrow (Wednesday). With the Internet sockets and air-conditioners still waiting to be installed, the chances of Murphy's Law being executed seem to be quite high. I just hope that nothing else happens on my watch; having to settle all the itsy-bitsy things have taken its toll on everyone already.

But enough about moving house - must've bored you all to death!

Going back to Malaysia and I'm not even sure what to do there. Kuala Kangsar isn't Las Vegas and I'm not kidding when I was they don't even have a decent shopping mall. Even with SGD being strong, the Standard of Living in Malaysia is insanely high. Not to mention international brands there also cost 2x the price in ringgit. So it'll just be like Harvest Moon - Back to Nature for me! (Love that game. It has to be one of the best simulation games ever. EVER!)

I'll be bringing along my camera as well. (A.N.: Going to upload 'em now.)

Whoever said that the countryside is good for you ought to think twice.

Just hoping that I'll have some epiphany or have serendipitous findings over there.

---

Nope.

I saw the number of photos I had to screen through.

Nope.

#level99procrastinator. #level99lazybum.

Red Landing.

2011-09-19T23:16:00.002+08:00

I actually managed to go deeper today.

These past few days have been tiring for me. I marathoned White Collar's first season in less than a week! Yup, that meant watching episodes 'til 2am on weekdays. I'd say it was worth it because Matt Bomer is just so darn charismatic. Nevermind he's allegedly gay. Oh perhaps it's Neal Caffrey that's charismatic, 'cos his character is just friggin' awesome.

The purpose of the whole chunk - other than fanboying - is actually to tell y'all why I haven't been sleeping in early these past few days.

So, I went to work and being the sluggish, grumpy and easily irritated zombie, I went to take a short l'il sweet nap.

And that was when I went DEEEEPER.

Location of sleep: Sofa chair.
Time of sleep: 0900 hours.
Condition of sleep: Not very comfortable.
Room temperature: ~18 degree Celsius. Fairly cold if you ask me, since it just rained the morning. Would've been perfect with my thick quilt back at home.
Lighting: Dim. Natural ight from the windows.
Chance of intrusion. Pretty darn high since I'm not supposed to sleep at work. But I guess I took some liberties with my migraine.

Under these conditions, I went to sleep at around 0900 hours. Then when I woke up, I'm in this small, dinghy room. Apparently, it was really dusty. Not with the sort of dust you'd expect from years of disuse, but rather, red dust. (On hindsight, there was this construction site where I wasn't supposed to trespass in my camp. And it's always reddish-brown, the same colour of the dust, because of some mixing and pounding and stuff. Guess that's where I got the colour of the dust.) Because when the orange-red rays of the setting sun filtered in through the window, I could see red dust floating everywhere. Not natural, if you'd ask me. Unnaturally reddish-brown environment, similar to Mars. Also, waking up in a room that seemed to be somewhere from Iraq. My first clue that I'm dreaming. I also took a look at the clock.

It didn't read 1500 hours. Instead, the clock hands suggested that it was 1500 hours but I vaguely remembered that the numbers on the clock were weird digits/symbols. My second clue that I'm dreaming. Of course, my first reaction was fear. Not fear of this unknown place I'm in, but fear that I actually slept for 6 hours and that my bosses had some punishments in mind already. Rational thinking took over after, and I got even more scared: What if I actually hibernated for a long period of time and over-slept through an apocalypse? So much for rational thinking. (Also, the only other being that can sleep through an apocalypse is probably Garfield. Perhaps, the reason why I had this dream was because I've been thinking of Garfield. Hmm.)

There seemed to be some lapse in time or memory, but I'm still in the same location. Or maybe it's a false perception of memory loss. Nonetheless, I decide to explore the location. Entered a room that's not so much reddish-brown as it is normal. Yup, a normal room, with a ceiling fan that's rotating at a very slow speed. And of course, one of my superiors sitting on the chair, legs on the table, doing his work. Or at least attempting to make it look as if he's doing work, although he failed terribly.

He's not the worse, so I managed to talk to him. I remembered him pointing in a general direction and giving me some command, but I actually forgot. Then bam!

I woke up.

Woke up to the original place of sleep, with only 30 minutes elapsed, and everything's fine and dandy bare a numb hand and sore body. Then a huge memory lapse.

Probably because by the time I've written half of this essay, my mind has decided to forget what happened in the second layer of the dream.

But when I woke up AGAIN, it was the real world already. 30 minutes elapsed, numb hand and sore body. Same as the second layer, but I kind of 'woke up from reality'. Quite cool to, y'know, go DEEEEPERRR.

Nevertheless, the rule of the thumb is to not be tired when you go to work. Yes, you do feel like a grumpy zombie.

Was White Collar worth it?

Definitely. And I can't wait 'til Season 2 and 3 finish torrenting.

---

YES! Finishing Season 3 very, very soon. I wrote that passage in camp, printed it out and transferred over here by sheer willpower and fast fingers.

Meh, I'm so tired these few days. Need to get some sleep.

Oh, quick update on the author's life; I'll be moving house soon, and am contemplating a housewarming dinner. BUT, I doubt it'll fit EVERYONE, so I'm still thinking about it. (Pain in the ass to plan a huge dinner, ya?)

Also... trying to get my life moving. Really got this passion to read up on business law... Or at least some kind of law. Because the ignorant will stay weak and poor, while those with knowledge will exploit the ignorant for power, money and fame. Cruel fact of the world.

Last but not least, hope everyone gets a bit of something from this weird post. Don't know why, but inspiration's hard to come by nowadays. I need someone or something to spice up my life. Despite the obvious paradox in the next clause, Boredom is indeed contagious.

Exposure

2011-09-10T19:49:00.008+08:00

It's a cold night, ain't it? Weather's topsy-turvy nowadays. I decided to make the most of the weather and went out to mess around with my camera.

Yup! Amateur photography. I'm using a P&C (Point 'n Click) camera, so I'm not one of those DSLR-totting photographers. Anyway, having a DSLR doesn't automatically mean you're a photographer. For some people, it just means they're very rich. So, what you will see is the product of a P&C camera and my amateurish photography skills.

Consider yourself warned! (Do note that I'm not a photographer, so please pardon my use of jargon or the lack thereof.)

I played around the aperture settings for these shots to create that shallow depth of field which, I guess, allows the viewers to focus on the subject and to cancel background noise.

Also, do note that as I'm a lazybum, the furthest I went is the front of my park. And obviously I cannot achieve Tumblr-esque or DSLR-ish photo qualities.

Next up, playing with shutter speed. Basically, having a longer shutter speed means you can blur the motion of fast moving objects and a shorter shutter speed does the opposite - freezes them. (And yes, do laugh at my subject in the following photo.) I actually wanted to do a night street shot, but I'm too lazy to go out and camp.

This is me trying (to no avail) to take Tumblr-esque photos. I must say I kinda like the first one, probably one of the most interesting ones I've taken so far.

And this is what happens when you use too high an ISO.

The following photos are just random shots of random things and me trying to achieve the best composition of a random backdrop.

Alright, that will be all for the photography shots! If I come back with an inspiration, maybe I'll write a bit for tonight (Sunday) before I go to sleep.

Hope you've enjoyed the pictures as much as I enjoyed taking 'em. (I spent around 20 minutes taking those photos okay, so don't dismiss them entirely. ^^)

Jelly Potter.

2011-08-21T08:58:00.004+08:00

You know, all the signs are showing that the world is indeed coming to an end.

Look at how our mother Earth is being ravaged by earthquakes, tsunamis and nuclear radiation. Vegetation is inedible, the cows are going mad, eggs and milk are either entirely fake or made tainted by poisonous elements.

Every country is in debt. United States of America is in debt, Greece is in debt, Italy is in debt, most of Europe is in debt, Manchester United is in debt; the economy is crashing down through the unstable wooden planks of a lone bridge and nobody is there to get it going.

Standard of living is sky-rocketing like no tomorrow. A pair of jeans can cost you $100. A t-shirt costs $20 nowadays. Of course, if you're a President and earning an annual salary of four million taxpayers' dollars, then the Inflation is indeed mitigable. But what if you're an NSF working on $400 a month and that's your only source of income?

Arsenal are losing all their star players, further fanning the flames of detest amongst fans that they're being a feeder club to richer, better clubs like Barcelona and Manchester City.

Of course, the best indicator that the world is indeed coming to an end is the fact that I am losing some of my motivation and inspiration to continue writing, hence the drought of posts these few days. There is, indeed, a lack of activity around my life since I spend almost everyday in camp doing nothing at all. However, an artist can and must come up with something, somehow. If you're not a genius, you have to grind for it.

Now, be prepared as I throw you a cliche.

"The only constant is change."

Anyway, this post shall be in two parts, mainly to divide the slice-of-life with my musings. Of course, it is also part of my fool-my-readers-into-reading-my-fillers project when I really have nothing valuable to say or write.

---

This is the second time I've been 放鸽子 by my camp-mates already. That makes it a 2/2 times of getting stood up. Nevertheless, three's a party and the day was eventually enjoyable. Although we're supposed to meet at 2pm, we only really met at four plus. CT and I were left to walk aimlessly through Illuma and Bugis.

But once Bruce came, we quickly settled down into this 6-ramen mini-village in Illuma. It's in this small corner and don't be fooled! One of the Marche-style ramen village while the other is - I'm purely guessing here - a high-end Japanese diner.

I really rate the ramen village because they offer you six different sort of ramen from the different parts of Japan and I think that's really cool. Add in the factor that the chefs are Japanese and get a really authentic 'feeling'. Only thing that really can be improved is the lights, really. It ought to be a lot dimmer to create that Ginza feel. But that's just me.

Food-wise, it's not fantastic, but at least it's still there. I'd rate it a 6.5/10.

I had a King's Ramen that costs $18 and is really a huuuge bowl of massive 1-inch-thick cha shus, leeks, half an egg and stuff.

This is dubbed the 'Black Ramen' - not because it's racist, but I think it's because they use a lot of soy sauce and thus the soup becomes black. Personally, I don't really dig the taste because leek and soy sauce and all don't really appeal to me. The cha shus, however, are MASSIVE. Eating them on the month of Ramadan made me felt a tinge of guilt until they melted in my mouth. The only gripe I have is that they are a little too oily and salty. 6.5/10 for this one.

Bruce's ramen. The special thing about this ramen is probably the noodles. Soup was good, and all, but kind of small. $13 for this one. Didn't eat this, so I can't rate it.

CT's one. When the poster said "Super Rich Soup!!!" they really meant SUPER. RICH. SOUP. Has to be one of the richest ramen I've ever had. Kind of a put-off if you hate thick, rich, salty soup though. I'd rate the soup a 7/10.
We also had a round of drinks. Sapporo beer for me, because I thought I wouldn't like drinking sake. It kind of tastes like a mix of Heineken and Tiger; a stronger, meaner version.
And wait, CT and Bruce had Sake. Yeah and they didn't even ASKED for the price. It costs $23 per mini-bottle - a total rip-off if you ask me. My mouth was literally wide-open when the cashier registered $77 on Bruce's card. I was like "ZOMGWTFBBQ".

After eating, we went to the arcade and believe you me, CT is MEAN in Time Crisis. He almost finished the whole of Time Crisis III in one token. Yeah, he is THAT good. My mind was blown when he used the handgun like it was a pair of Uzis and had bullet-dodging skills that would make Hanzo Hattori proud.

Then there was this art museum somewhere around City Hall and y'know, really expensive stuff like a $60,000 art piece was showcased. I was kinda surprised admission was free, so me gusta and just walked inside and try to be artsy-futsy.

Anddd, there's this cafe called Cat Socrates in Bras Basah. Y'know, the sort of shop where everything is rustic and "feel-at-home" and nice and you feel like buying everything there? Yeah, the kind of shop where everything is friggin' overpriced and expensive. So we just went in, looked around, and bailed to Rankings to get my strings.

I was too tired to go to Wei Jie's party, so my apologies.

---

Actually, there was supposed to be a whole long load of other stories, but they just came out half-arse in my mind. Like, y'know, when your mind is blank - empty, the state of Zen - and you start to churn fantastic stories and plots, then suddenly, you forget stuff and all.

Well, one of those times. So to fill this slot, I've actually used Tricia's meme. (Yah, I get it a lot from her because she always does 'em and I don't fish for stuff like that online.) [I am actually so out of ideas/lazy that I didn't update this damn blog for so long yes I know and I apologise.]

SO HERE WE GO! Harry Potter meme.

Harry Potter- Tell about a scar on your body.

Wolverine slash marks on my left triceps because one day, I decided that it would be cool to engage Wolverine in close quarter combat.

Actually, I got it when I skidded along the tarmac when the car crashed into my bike during Secondary school. Apparently there was one along my face but I'm so so so so so glad it wasn't permanent.

Oh and just to brag about my birthmark, I've got this cute car shape thingy on my back. <3

Ron Weasley- Something you’re afraid of.

I'm scared of everything. It'll be more appropriate if I was asked what I'm not afraid of.

Um, just to name one fear that isn't probably as widespread as fear of the dark/heights/creepy crawlies/blood/needles... I actually am very afraid of not being up to the mark. It's kinda part of me being a perfectionist and how I don't like to lose and how I wanna be the very best...

Hermione Granger- A subject you know a lot about.

I'm a jack of all trade, master of none. Yes, a little bit of everything. Something which I have more in-depth knowledge would probably be "How To Be A Complete Jackass".

Draco Malfoy- Closest green item to you.

~~My hippo~~ Stripes of my table tennis medal.

Severus Snape- Your favourite alcoholic beverage.

It's a toss between a 12-macallan and a yaygerbomb.

Rubeus Hagrid- Your favourite animal.

NYAN. PROBLEM?

Luna Lovegood- Something about you other people find weird.

Why I insist on doing things MY way? Why I always want to WIN? Yeah. I'm an ass, deal with me.

Neville Longbottom- Your favourite flower.

I don't really like flowers... and I'd say Blue Roses (Laura Wingfield, anybody?) if the previous person doing this didn't already done so. Is Mimosa a flower? xD

Nymphodora Tonks- Something you would change about your appearance.

Definitely want to be buffer. Not INSANELY-STEROID-RAGE buff, but at least LEAN-buff. Y'know, the sort 180cm tall, 60kg, lean muscles kind of guy? I don't know what the hell's wrong with my body but I'm seriously TOO skinny.

Fred and George Weasley- The last prank you pulled on someone, or someone pulled on you.

Just 20 minutes ago, we 4-manned a lane and made a poor guy rage-quit...

Voldemort- If you were to make a Horcrux, it would be…

What's a Horcrux?

-after googling...-

I'd say my guitar? Like how awesome would it be to like invoke magical stuff out of your guitar?!

Moaning Myrtle- The last thing to make you cry.

I forgot the last time I cried.

Sirius Black- Have you ever taken the blame for something you didn’t do?

I don't usually take the blame for someone else.

But when I do, no one notices it.

Dobby- What is your most loved article of clothing?

As of yet, my most loved article of clothing has to be my vest/cardigan black floating conductor thingy.

Peeves the Poltergeist- What is the best/funniest insult you’ve used/heard?

"Then allow me to shatter your delusions of grandeur!" - Beatrix.

Not an insult per se but freakin' bad ass.

Sybill Trelawney- When was the last time you experienced Deja Vu?

I thought these kind of things are like dreams? You forget about them after a while.

Filius Flitwick- What is your favorite spell from the Harry Potter series?

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

Lily Potter- Is there anyone you love so much you would die for?

No, but there is someone I love so much I would live for.

Arthur Weasley- What piece of “Muggle” technology fascinates you most?

Facebook. LOLOLOL.

Mundungus Fletcher- Have you ever stolen anything?

Nope. +1 to Honor.

Viktor Krum- If you were a Quidditch player, what position would you play?

Left Wing, that's the position I play best. But no, I have no idea what positions are available in Quidditch, so I think somewhere along the left would be fine as I'm a lefty.

Fleur Delacour- What physical attribute do you like most about yourself?

I'm not particularly buff or handsome, so I guess I'll go with my guitarist fingers.

Hedwig- What was your all-time favorite pet, or, if you’ve never had one, your all-time favorite birthday gift.

Didn't have a pet. Didn't have a birthday gift.

FOREVER ALONE!

Albus Dumbledore- What is your proudest accomplishment?

I actually managed to do nothing for 19 years. My proudest accomplishment would be getting 2nd place in Primary 1 Arts competition.

-----

12 midnight.

Booking in tomorrow.

I big big jelly.

Venom.

2011-07-31T21:04:00.006+08:00

Image courtesy of nebezial @ Deviant Art. (View it on DevArt for it's full awesomeness size.)
Sometimes, Venom likes to rear up its ugly head in front of everyone without my permission. Yeah, that entity that is engulfed in darkness, venom dripping like a mist of obsidian evil. Venom is like the spawn-child between a Xenomorph and your evil mother-in-law. It just pops out of no where, actually. Sometimes, a little frustration, or a little provocation, can allow Venom to suddenly appear. Challenging me with that all-consuming smirk; just like how you can't really resist the charms of a pretty boy, albeit this one's charms rather laced with - pardon the pun - venom.

Words fell out of my mouth before I could think, the red mist of anger rears its head. Over time, it suddenly becomes less of anger, and more of a... reflex reaction? Pet peeves, some people call it. Personally, I feel that if one cannot control one's emotions, then one becomes a very poor person. For if you do not even have the control of your own soul, then who does the mastery of your body belong to? Are you not just a puppet then, controlled by invisible strings of Sins?

Aggressive body language, a burst of outrage, an uncontrolled cry - these are the rather visible forms of anger mismanagement. Of course, there are rather subtle ones. Ones that are, perhaps, more insidious. I'd like to compare the former to a shotgun - short, sharp bursts in your face - and the latter to poison.

Yes, a slow, painful death that eats from your inside. Thus, I find it ironic that "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never harm me". This is really extreme, but try telling your parents to go to hell. If one ever spouts such unfilial, abominable words, then there's really much to be reflected upon. Sometimes, the situation may make a person lose control of his or her emotions, and thus, can be a reason for an outburst of emotions. Note that I say it's a reason and not an excuse. For excuses are synthesized by the incompetent as forms of covering up their uselessness.

One thing about this peculiar venom: the adrenaline, top-of-the-world effect will very quickly wear out and you'll be overwhelmed with feelings of guilt. It's like taking drugs, really.

One kind word of advice: The next time you feel the need to release an outburst, think about the consequences first. Cliche and easier said than done but a potential life-saver if one of those outbursts is preempted.

Boomshuckaboocheese.

2011-07-25T09:24:00.002+08:00

Such a wonderful morning for deep musing and pensive reflection. The light drizzle adds a gentle, melancholic rhythm in which my thoughts pour forth unobstructed. While I prefer to let my thoughts cascade like a flow of legato notes, some people - ahem - prefer to cuddle snugglywuggly in their beds and sleep into the afternoon - because waking up at 11am is ungodly.

Anyway, my day would've definitely been better if that arsehat of a doctor would've GIVEN me that two days MC when I requested for it. Instead, he went like, "Noooo, if I give you TWO days MC, the government will probably take my soul and my first born."

I mean, come the hell on, help me a fellow friend in need. And it's not like my illness is fake and gay.

Then my conspiracy-theorist mind started churning out what could logically be happening behind the scenes and this is what I thought could be an explanation for the army to make clinic hopping illegal.

1. You must scan your 11-B. That identifies you as a NSF. Level ?? Doctor will thus be given a buff that allows them a 80% chance to de-buff your MC to a 1-day duration.

2. Every clinic has a MC quota given to servicemen, thus effectively limiting the number of Priests/Clerics/Healers in your party to a very low - and equally insufficient - number.

3. Army thus LOL in your face when NSF all have suicidal thoughts after being bored to death in ~~concentration~~ army camps.

See? The whole grid's lit up. I feel like I'm sitting on a geyser! No, I'm not mad, just an unexplained genius. Yay, I love Robert.

And seriously, why would Tom want to join the Navy? Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. People should be more vocal about questioning the complications of men joining the army, otherwise we'll all die with boredom-corrupted lungs, like devils sick of sin.

What about that dude who just couldn't get into the pants of that really cute girl? He wrote a ~~threat~~ love poem To His Coy Mistress. Maybe the effect that girls who play hard to get is similar to the one between Tamer and Hawk.

Man, that's all the references I can muster now. I can bombard all of you if I dig up my archives of poems, but these are right off my brain. xD

I must say though, I'd better spend today properly because after half a day, I'll be in a lousy hellhole.

Shall write another time, I feel stupid.

Outration.

2011-07-24T22:14:00.002+08:00

Who else can I blame but myself for gaining so much in weight? It's really unhealthy gorging myself silly with food all the time.

Hello, people. It's been a long while, and as much as I'd like to post yesterday, I'm sad to inform you guys that I left my draft in my office. Yes, fast-forward 6o years from the Great Depression and Singaporeanise Tom Wingfield, and you have yourself a depressed, self-acclaimed poet who just wants to get the hell out of his 2 x 4 situation.

Let's see what I have for today.

Morning: 1x Bowl of breakfast cereal with milk.

Afternoon: 2x egg prata, 1x roast duck noodle with roast pork.

Evening: 1x half-chicken, 1x plate of veggie, 2x bowl of chicken rice.

Not to mention I always down either a cold beer or wine during evenings.

It's really no wonder I'm getting really fatter and fatter. Need to start more exercises!

So anyway, I'll leave y'all with a healthy message and another yours-truly-smart-arse-pseudo-philosophical-quote.

First is: If you don't want to be fat, you've got to work it out. If you want to be buff, you ALSO have to work out. Why not do both and enjoy a healthy lifestyle? And you'll get PROFIT after ???? too!

Secondly, friend of mine said something that made me think: people wanting to be other people, people escaping from their true selves: pretending.

So this came to mind: If you are with a bunch of people whom are classified as the lowest of all lowest life forms by society - and the keyword is, by society - then do you really have to be fearful of anything?

"If you are eating lamb stew with a farmer's family, enjoying drinks with the people in the tavern, or being jailed up with a bunch of outlaws, then you truly don't need to pretend. For no one cares and no one judges. The poor and the fallen do not judge. The former are not arrogant enough to judge while the latter is in no position to judge."

Long arse quote, if I say so myself.

I shall go sleep, retrieve my draft tomorrow, and see what I can do.

Until then, keep on trollin'! >:D

What is this I don't even.

2011-07-17T02:39:00.002+08:00

Life has a way of sneaking behind your back and kicking you when you least expect it.

I told you guys I'll be writing a post 'tomorrow', right? Well, I didn't expect tomorrow to be 2.43am in the morning. I can't really sleep. Took my guitar out to the park and played some stuff and then got even more depressed; technicality isn't there, my repertoire is non-existent. I regretted taking my liquors over to Henry's yesterday, now I don't have anything left for myself.

Not sure if you can call these early symptoms of being an alcoholic, but whenever I feel depressed or when I can't sleep, the first thing that comes to mind is alcohol. Rule eight of the bar: Never drink just to drown your sorrow. It's a tough rule to follow seeing how this world is so screwed up.

I seemed to have lost my identity. Lost myself, my life. I'll bet half of you are already thinking, "This guy's a totally muppet. He's just 19 and he thinks he's 89 and been through lots of shit." True enough, I don't think I've been through major shit. Not that I'm really affected when shit happens. I'm depressed because things DON'T happen. It's like watering a sapling day in, day out and it just doesn't grow. Opportunities don't come. Windows don't open. People walk by me as if I'm a long-forgotten spectre - someone who is never there, an invisible entity.

I understand why people would rather be notorious than be unpopular - it's the lesser of the two evils. But doing stupid things is really against my grain. But then, people do judge. And they judge you by what they and the society think is correct.

Sure, tell everyone that you don't give a damn and that other people judging you won't affect you.

Who are you kidding? People are integrated. Like it or not, you're part of the society. If you don't live by the rules, you lose the game. Simple as that.

I'm a fine, living and breathing specimen of someone who goes against the mainstream. Am I surviving well? Yeah, kind of. You'll just ghost by, being unsuccessful, that's all.

Why do people want to be mainstream? It's simple, really.

Think politics. Majority rules. People wont give a flying damn and just go with the flow if 90% of the population thinks that eating grass is wonderful. Why do politicians turn to pleasing the crowds as one good strategy? Because if the general population believes and consumes the shit that you spew, and if everyone else - think socialism - is eating shit, then shit is good. If the majority votes for you, then you're in office. That's all it matters. That's the argument. Which makes us believe that being part of the majority - no matter at what cost or ethics - is actually to our advantage.

Think music. For goodness's sake. Rebecca freakin' Black. A PRIME example of how notoriety is a good facade for being plain. In fact, in her case, notoriety is the perfect cover for her lack of vocal talent. And mainstream music. Most 'artistes' that 'make music' don't really have any jack talent. All the underground talents who are playing their own music; overlooked and not cared.

And why? Because if the crowd don't even KNOW about you, then your talent is nothing. It's really the same concept as "picture or it didn't happen".

With these examples, you could actually guess at what I'm driving at already. But no. I don't really feel angsty. In fact, I feel... nothing. It's a weird sensation. It just hits you sometimes. When you feel nothing. I'd rather I feel angry for not being good at a certain something. I'd rather feel sad for not having many friends. I'd rather feel jealous at someone else who is more talented.

But no. There's just this huge void. Call it bipolar or manic depression, I don't care, but just let it go away. It's disturbing my sleep. And when my sleep is disturbed, I can get real cranky.

Maybe I should just stop trying so hard to put up a strong front, stop trying so hard to be good. I'm beyond the stage of giving up. Consolations are mere whispers of the Devil.

This post is so depressing I could barf.

I think I'm schizophrenic.

...

...

BUT HEY! I FOUND A CURE! Listening to cheesy power metal. Never fails to lift my spirits. So after a period of serious depression, I'm now freaking happy. Like, high on drugs or something.

Just another day in a poet-wannabe's office. Depression and mania slipping in and out in between hours.

I feel like deleting this post because it doesn't make any damned sense.

But then, the half an hour of writing this will go down the drain.

But this post is practically worthless and not at all insightful.

Staying up at 3:33am to write and then just delete it? No way.

It's okay if it makes you feel better. A form of outlet.

I don't need to feel better. I don't feel, remember?

Stop deluding yourself. Who do you think you are?

I make the perfect plot for a Final Fantasy's angsty anti-hero.

YEAHHHHHHHHH!

Good/Bad.

2011-07-16T00:21:00.002+08:00

Guys.

I confess.

I've been neglecting this blog...

But I have good news and bad news. I'll assume you want to hear the bad news first.

Bad news: What you are seeing is just a small update, no inspirational writings or anything close to that.

Now, I can almost SMELL your disappointment from here. You have been dependent on chicken soupe writing for the soul, haven't you? It's like a drug... carefree and light. Yet, not restricting or addictive. You want it, you get it. At face value. No hidden costs or charges.

Are you ready for good news?

As I hugged my guitar back home through the rain at twelve midnight... Y'know, typical melancholic and picturesque scene - no doubt due to the lonely, desolated yellow street lamp bending over and focusing their light onto a tree branch and illuminating the golden leaves into focus - that made me... feel alive.

The wind caressed my soul as the mystical night suddenly seemed alive. Raindrops started dancing wildly around me, as if I was caught in a slight thunderstorm. The freezing cold made me give out soft, shuddering moans as I shuffled back home.

It's that... feeling of. LIFE. Of... MYSTERY. Of... DESOLATION. MELANCHOLY.

All these emotions, I can feel so strongly. The lovely rain. The wind. Nature.

One with the Earth.

*Makes a mental note not to go off tangent and keep this short*

But I will promise - or at least try to deliver - a good, insightful post this weekend.

Wait for it, guys, but don't hold your breath. >:D

Have a good night~!

Fantasception.

2011-06-19T21:57:00.002+08:00

"To be forgotten is worse than death." - Freya Crescent.

How apt a quote to start off today's discussion with, for in this society, we are more and more estranged from our friends and families and the feeling of togetherness is lost upon our race.

The creation of the computer, the Internet and other mobile devices has made face-to-face interaction obsolete. Web-cam, video conferencing and the likes; I do believe that talking face-to-face increases the connectivity. Don't you just feel very detached when talking to someone online or speaking through a microphone?

We've sacrificed our emotions for convenience. A society of couch potatoes, staying in front of a screen whole day, not getting out much, being fat, obese and unfit.

Compare and contrast letter-writing and texting. Texting on the mobile phone is convenient: you can send and receive texts all around the world in a split second. Not that this convenience is unwelcome, but I would rather think that if you really want to be sincere, then write a letter; there's a touch of humanity and at least you're the one with the handwriting and signature.

Why am I saying all these?

Because recently, I've felt I'm isolating myself. Or rather, we've all come to become isolated figures in this increasingly global society - the irony is not lost on us here.

Thus, I always try to remind myself to go out with my friends, to start re-connecting. Of course, it's really tough to try to co-ordinate different (poly/JC/army) schedule so we can all meet up together. Then another thing is, we usually don't have anything new to do!

Well, I tried going to Hougang and then to Somerset within a day and tell you what, I got so tired and sick that I ended up having a really, REALLY bad liver. I'm not exaggerating when I say that my liver was in its worst state ever since 19 years ago. It was so bad I kept screaming and moaning like I was giving birth to a baby. Trust me, it's WORSE than stomach cramps.

I think a few factors led to my liver being screwed really badly.

1. Dehydration - I didn't drink plain water for 2 whole days.
2. Lack of sleep - Didn't sleep much for the last night.
3. Alcohol - Drinking alcohol and not detoxing - it was a fatal mistake.
4. Fatigue - Going around shopping and walking around Orchard/Somerset.
5. Starbucks and Coke - Not the best thing to drink on an empty stomach.
6. MacDonald Meal - I am NEVER going to eat Macs on an empty stomach EVER again. It gives me really poor liver.

Add that together and you have me, crowded by my mother and my maid a la ER, crying and screaming in pain. For, what, an hour or two? Ate 4 huge, green pills of God knows what and drank a really concentrated shot of ginger tea.

I must remember to take better care of my body. I'm just 19!

Nevertheless, I still enjoyed myself with my friends. Let's see... Orchard stretch is really expensive stuff. I guess I'm restricted to shopping in Bugis, where things are much cheaper. But I don't like going back empty-handed, so I bought a T-shirt for $25. Yeah, I got ripped, I know.

Anywho, I'll keep this post short. Weekends going to turn busy.

Good bye!

The Muse.

2011-06-14T21:14:00.003+08:00

"There are always two sides - or more - of everything; it's just the degree that defines what is and what is not."

There we go, a quote worthy of the long-forgotten "Wise Jovi Sayings". In reality, I'm no wiser than a fool with too much to drink. Nevertheless, I'm going to write about some rather peculiar issues this time around - perhaps as a form of compensation for some of my subscribers have waited quite a long while for this post.

Yes, I know I haven't posted in a while. I'm going to write as frequently as possible - while time and brain capacity permit - while not reducing the quality of my posts.

---

Most, if not all, will have already judged a person or a group of people at some point of their lives. It is rather inevitable, for we live in a society where one's demise is another's opportunity. Especially when we are encouraged, consciously or sub-consciously, to try to elevate our social positions - by any means necessary.

Ever felt irritated by a group of China Chinese immigrants talking extremely loudly on the bus? Ever felt disgusted by a bunch of Chinese 'ah-bengs' pumping house techno music and hurling vulgarities and abuses? Or even felt like throwing a grenade at the group of ITE students who come up the bus and start their rough-housing?

Now, personally, the issue isn't their 'social positions'. Rather, it is the fact that they themselves are a disgrace, not the subject group of a whole. It's like saying 'all women are bad drivers' or 'the English drop everything - literally everything - and have tea at 3pm'. Caricature of the English aside, what I'm trying to drive across is that we all tend to judge. Critically and harshly at times, too.

Ardy once told me that it's important not to judge others too hastily. Then my mother tells me that it is important to have compassion, to sympathize.

Well, I find it easier to preach than to practise. I sometimes find pleasure in judging other people - then checking out if their characters are as what I've judged. It somehow sharpens my edge to see through people, see through lies and facades, see through people who act tough.

Of course, I am no Detective Conan, but I'm working towards a sharper 'human sense', so to speak.

Anyway, I figured that it would do be good if I started jotting down my ideas on a little notebook - the sort that has a picturesque cover page which probably is meant to inspire. Y'know, ideas behave in a way very similar to humans; they come and go, some more 'awesome' than others on the surface while others are gems waiting to be found. Also, they are very fickle; choosing to come and go as they please, never waiting, considering or even bothering to knock. Perhaps it is that intrinsic elusiveness - slightly coquettish, one may say - of both ideas and humans alike that draw our attention to them.

Since I am finishing an average of one novel a day, perhaps I could also book reviews to keep ideas fresh. Most of the novels I read have rather interesting thematic issues and novel ideas. Like they say: imitation is the highest form of flattery. To mesh all the ideas into one smouldering hot-pot would be convenient for me in the near future: game design centers very much on concept creation.

However, what you probably don't know is that I am actually writing this post in camp.Yeah writing using a cheap, ballpoint pen and an A4 paper - all provided by Big Brother Army. Rather poor excuses for writing materials, me thinks. Somehow, writing, instead of typing, gives me a much 'closer' feel to my work, as though computerized writing has made me detached - or is it actually the other way round?

Well, one can say that it is the result of my overly inflated poetic notions that made me feel 'closer' to my works. After all, poets and writers used to pen down their thoughts on ink and paper traditionally. It's just that writing is considerably more time-consuming and tedious due to the length of my essays. Having really poor handwriting don't help either. I will probably need to sort out my writing later at home; (At the time of TYPING this out, I actually had no problem reading my stuff) I already can't understand some of the words I wrote.

Ah, how far have I verved away from the topic - if I had one in the first place, at all. It's a rather boring Wednesday in camp, oh how I yearn to book out, go home, play scales over my guitar (actually, in hindsight, scaling is rather boring). Heck, I'd even study! Yes, am looking forward to DigiPen, although I'm not having too high hopes of having chicks in my course - game design is, after all, a predominately male area of expertise. Well, I do hope to be proven wrong though. Human interaction is sadly very much absent in my camp. For some reason, I find it easier to talk to members of the fairer sex when it comes to... personal issues. Unless, of course, the topics under consideration are football, liquor or sex. Hah, a perfect caricature of a male chauvinist. Damn, can't believe I'm writing such nonsense - another 15 minutes before I'm released from camp. (Written in real-time, you must remember.)

Guess I'll get changed into my civvies and get ready for book out.

---

And now I've typed this and all and merged and edited a few posts, I think I'll be lazy and just publish everything.

I'll call this post The Muse: The personification of ideas to me is this really cute, yet coy, girl who flirts with you. She's also extremely tsundere. Because she always come at the most inconvenient of times and when you least expect it.

"If you don't want to hurt either people, then you're being really selfish because after all, you will end up hurting both."

Half-Boiled.

2011-06-05T12:27:00.007+08:00

I feel sorry for myself: The rain doesn't bring my serenity and peace like it used to. Jaded and sardonic, what else can I do to find peace within myself? Like the millions of people out there working for the sake of earning an income (what for, in the end, if you accumulate millions and go to the grave?), studying for the sake of a paper certificate (which, by all logical deduction, does not tell anything much except this person, on this day, doing this very paper, is able to regurgitate whatever he or she has cramped into his brain onto the paper.) and of course, living for the sake of... well, living.

One talks about spiritualism, about feeling that void in our hearts. For myself, I want to find a higher purpose in life. One that does not involve evaporating into thin air to meet one's maker a la a 100% rate of wrongly predicted Raptures. One that does not involve accumulating insane sums of wealth (although that is an added bonus).

To do something which I want to, which I feel for. Feelings are regarded as moments of weakness in this world; show a bit of honesty and you get taken advantage of. Show a tad bit of kindness and you get trampled all over. Yet, deep inside all of us, there lies a certain amount of evil, which - for most of the time - is suppressed by the 'greater good'.

Me. Designing. Music. Creation. Ideas.

These ideals appeal to me. Yet, a part of me seemed to have died. I have no idea when but a good guess is during A Levels. My brain seemed to have shut down completely. All the fantastic ideas, the innovative ones, seemed to have gone away. Am I finding excuses for myself? They say inspiration is to be found through hard work; it's not something that can be found serendipitously. Like, "Oh! Look at that beautiful photograph of a waterfall in a misted rainforest. *Mind churns and an idea pops up*" Yes, I do agree that once in a while, these sort of things happen. More often than not, writers, musicians and the lot - I've come to understand - have to work their way out.

Like what Catherine will say; they're not geniuses, they just work so hard and so fast that on the outside, their works seem to be so effortless and magical.

But today's rain... Somehow, brought me some quiet. Brought me peace. Love it, really. The melancholy it brings, every single pitter-patter brings a drop of hope, a little sadness, as blues as Blues can be.

---

The morning passes by rather swiftly and monotonously.

It's evening now, have to prepare to go to camp the next day. Yet, I'm not totally depressed, for I'm going for my juniors' guitar camp on Tuesday and Wednesday. It's going to be loads of fun; I intend to break TPJC school rules while I'm in it's uniform - when else can I break rules without the implications?

---

I realised I FORGOT to complete and publish this post; therefore, I am like, what, 3 posts late.

Anyway, camp was really fun, the juniors were fantastic, and the games were seriously very well-thought out. It was really well-planned.

Now, if only we had an overnight camp...

Anyway, I want to wrap up this post fairly quickly. That'll be all!

Gaol.

2011-05-29T22:39:00.003+08:00

They say the heat may cause one to see illusions - mirages, the will-o-wisps of the deserts - but I cannot be more clear-headed than I am, as I sit in front of my letter with a jet-black quill in hand.

The edges of the parched, yellowish paper are ragged and torn, the lines undefined. My shivering hard dare not write upon the perfect paper, in fear that even the slightest deviation of perfect writing will be a blemish.

But the room is humid. The thick concrete walls block out the air and the cell is windowless. Humid and warm. It is getting into my skin, this unearthly heat. I stripped off my linen shirt and contemplated thoughts. Thoughts that would rather stay inside my head than be unravelled upon the papers. Now, the paper seemed to be taunting me, my perfect imagined handwriting now a devilish scrawl.

A daunting task; no one said it wasn't and thus, no one volunteered. In fact, no one can choose this task.

No, you can't even volunteer for it, for the task chooses you. It's almost as natural as how the opposite ends of the magnets attract. How the same repel and the different attract.

I'm breaking out in cold sweat; the plain four walls of the room seemed to be closing in on me. I feel claustrophobic, my stomach arguing with me, the bile reaching my throat, gleefully forcing me to retch.

I hold myself steady. I can do it, I say.

The instant I take up my quill, I hear a light, albeit urgent, rap on the wooden door. Blimey, who can it be at this hour? For I am accustomed to having no visitors during my long, solitary hours here in the confines of these walls. They say starring at the pale whites of the walls can drive the mind insane - only a matter of time, for what drives me mad could be both the blandness and the isolation.

"Hey, you worthless scum, the Head has finally found use for you," said the jailor with a smirk on his rugged face. "Dirty job for the likes of you."

If those insults provoked me, then it certainly didn't show on my face. I calmly put on my shirt and dropped both the paper and quill into my backpack. The jailor is a good head shorter than me, although being more masculine and stout. Apparently, he has been through the rough stuff as well, judging from the scars he has gotten all over his face. His cleft lip gives the illusion of a man who can't stop smirking. Just as well, that bastard.

"The fuck you staring at?" yelled the jailor, apparently losing his temper with me taking my own sweet time. "You a faggot?"

He can't scare me. I've been through much worse. That's why the task falls upon me. But just to not provoke unnecessary trouble, I bowed slightly and apologised, picking up my pack and walked towards the exit.

The jailor extended his arm across the door and barred my way. "Now, now, aren't you a little too fair for a guy?" he questioned and threw me a sly look. "Babysitting you bastards in this god-forsaken place makes me lonely sometimes."

He is now eying me from top to bottom, that slithery look of his seemed to be touching me all over my fair, lean body. As he reached out his arm to try and grab my flame-red hair, I shifted my weight the other way, grabbed his arm, hoisted him over and slammed him down on the cold, hard concrete.

All which happened in a time frame of less than five seconds. Here was the lecherous son of a bitch who tried to touch me. Sprawled all over the floor, having the wind knocked out of him. Sliding my combat knife out of my cargo pants, I cut out a piece of fabric from the jailor's shirt and stuffed it into his mouth. Conveniently enough, he brought along with him a piece of nylon rope and I cannot be more obliged to tie him up against the walls.

I fished his pockets for a set of keys and locked himself in those cold, lifeless walls. With a click of the lock, the jailor is now jailed and I must set out to do the task which I was given.

After spending what seemed an eternity in the cell, the cold, crisp air of the night is infinitely invigorating. With a spring in my steps, I sprinted past the cells, ignoring the loud snores of both the guards and the inmates. My thread is as soft as wind, as smooth as silk. My mind is crystal clear; I must protect my people.

For I am the lost prince of Tulizar. And if I don't free my people from the tyranny of the Farquhar, who will?

Impish.

2011-05-22T21:52:00.002+08:00

Alright, before I go on a yet another long hiatus, let me update this little blog of mine first.

I need to feel young again. D'ya know what I mean? The things that youths do. Those 16 and 17 year old youngsters. I wanna go for stay-overs and drink and make merry and party. I feel really, really old just going to 'work' on a 5-day work-week basis. And then have my weekends burned by playing football and jamming.

While we're speaking of drinking, I'm seriously interested in learning how to mix cocktails professionally. Yes, bar tending. Or at least, parts of it. Because of the manga, Bartender, I'm really inspired by the way the Japanese mangaka, albeit exaggeratedly, portrays a bartender in such a romantic and poetic manner.

It's just that the prices of liqueurs are too expensive. Furthermore, glassware - flute glasses, champagne glasses, cocktail glasses, highball glasses, beer pints etc - are all very expensive. Too expensive for me, at the moment. And they're not that easily found. My definition of easily found? It means I must be able to find them in NTUC. Or Giant. Or something.

I also must mention that bartending, as a job or hobby, is mostly frowned upon in Singapore. Why? Because most bartenders are those who have no other jobs and/or are 'poorly educated'. I'd like to break this confounded notion because if we look deeper into bartending, it's actually a really professional career that is highly profitable. Of course, you must be a GOOD bartender, not half-arse punks who mix spirits without, well, putting their spirit into it.

Aaaand. Before I go off tangent by talking about bartending - which is not the case today - I shall re-focus everyone back to my starting point.

Which is...

I forgot.

I really had the inspiration to write after my work-out and bath, but then it sort of, as usual, disappeared. Vanished. Poof.

I wished my inspirational self would come out more often; for some reason, it started to become reaaaalll introverted, and just refuses to come out any more. I should coax it with wine and liqueurs. And more liquor chocolates. And simple indulgences. More artistic stuff.

Of course! Photography, music, bar-tending. All of which are artsy things to do. Music is becoming... rather dry. Now I know why people who learn Grade stuff are finding music a hassle to do. Because they are repeating the same thing, doing the same thing every day, so much that they're sick and tired of it.

For me, what gets me down is that my equipments are not really fantastic. And neither are my skills. It gets increasingly frustrating for me to know that people who are not as - I don't want to sound overly obnoxious or pompous - skilled as I am actually have a better sound, courtesy of their overly bulging pockets or sheer determination not to eat to save money. Yes, they have a better sound because of their equipments. Effect pedals, amplifiers, guitars, pick-ups and the like. What I have is a beginner's set. And it's hard to know what went wrong when I'm trying to experiment on my own.

Because if you're experimenting on your own, how do you even know when you've got the wrong sound?

More like, how can you even know where to start to fix that sound.

Thus, it gets really, really frustrating. Not so how other people have better equipments or are technically gifted, but more of my own faults that I find almost impossible to rectify.

Nevertheless, here are two videos - technically, audio - for you guys. It's covered with my usual gear and it's a one-take, so there are some mistakes here and there. Mainly did it 'cos I was bored today and wanted to record my playing.

Alright, alright, not the most professional of recording, but the idea's there. (:

OH! AND UNITED ARE JUST CROWNED CHAMPIONS!!!

SIR RYAN GIGGS, HIS 12TH MEDAL AND SIR PAUL SCHOLES, HIS 10TH!

GLOOOORY GLOOORY MAN UNITED AS THE REDS GO MARCHING

ON ON ON!!!

Nonsensical Musical.

2011-05-21T00:05:00.001+08:00

Lone horse pulling a red dray
under the night light.
Fig trees swaying in swift breeze
shadowing night life.

Faeries fluttering in formations
of four enchanting the emerald green forest
with midnight rush.
Sweet-sounding melody flowing freely from
a bamboo flute,
a remedy for the souls, an ancient lull.

Allegro!

An allegorical hum brings the mind to numb,
Poised like a tigress, the flutist sung.
For the faeries to revel in sing and dance,
until dawn does the carousel stop.

West.

2011-05-20T18:11:00.002+08:00

If you are a honest, working adult who has the least bit of self-consciousness, scruples and principles, then, for goodness' sake, GET YOUR OWN INTERNET CONNECTION.

Whew, that felt good.

Dear Readers,

Do you guys know my predicament? As a hard-working NSF who earns a meager $400 a month, I'm sharing an Internet with almost 10. Yes, you've heard it right, TEN full-time working professionals. And no, my house is not an office. It doesn't boast of 324 gazillion TB/s download speeds. Neither are my Internet cables made fiber optics. 10 people are using a miserable $60 plan; which by all rights is only meant to be used by ONE person SOLELY.

Rant aside, I want to point out the rather stark lack in civility, self-consciousness and basic respect of these people. One may argue that since I'm one of the 10 people sharing this connection - let he who has not sinned cast the first stone - I am therefore one who should not complain. Nevertheless, there are plenty of other salient points to consider.

First of all, as a NSF, what I'm earning is an ALLOWANCE, not SALARY. Is it that difficult for working professionals to eek out $40 a month to pay for a basic Internet connection? For those who don't know, I was using this $40/month plan before I went into army, that is, before having to use the Internet for only a couple of hours a day. If you're really so freakin' goddamn stingy enough to NOT want to fork out $40 a month and insist on getting a good, solid connection, then, my dear sir, you can kindly go shove the Internet cable up your sorry arse.

Don't go saying "Oh I only use it 2 hours a day" or "I'm not going to use much bandwidth". Because we ALL know, you use MORE than 2 hours a day. Because we ALL know that bandwidth can NEVER be shared. What's freakin' ridiculous is that a tenant - who supposedly is an IT professional - told me that he "will not use much bandwidth". If a computer idiot like me know that bandwidth cannot be shared, then you, as a "professional" ought to hang yourself on a tree. Or at least give me your monthly salary.

Secondly, it's a matter of principle. Yes, goddamn freakin' principles that all the new-age people lack. It doesn't matter what we're talking about - it can be related to anything.

Think about this scenario: (I thought it'll be real geeky to start naming characters Alpha and Beta, instead of your usual Tom and John; or 小华 and 小明.)

So, Alpha owns an apple farm, while Beta owns banana and durian farms.

Alpha's apple farm is self-sufficient, that is, it provides Alpha with 3 apples a day, keeping Alpha well-fed, providing Alpha just needs an apple a meal to keep starvation away.

Beta's farms provide him with over 9000 bananas and durians every day. He sells these bananas and durians for slaves in the market and these slaves help him to harvest more durians and bananas, which revenue is used to buy even moar slaves. (???? Profit comes to mind)

Herein lies the conflict!

Beta wants to sell in Ye Royal Highness' Royale Market, because the profit there will be so much more than selling in the regular slave market. However, the Royalties in Trollville only want to eat APPLES. (I can sense a few of you laughing right now.)

Thus, Beta gathers his over 9000 slaves to invade Alpha's farm, taking away one apple per day from Alpha, making Alpha not-quite-full-a-day-since-he-needs-an-apple-a-meal-to-keep-him-well-fed.

Hyperbolic caricature of capitalistic, greedy bastards aside, I want y'all to think: Is it morally correct? That in order to better oneself, we have to take from others, regardless of means?

Well, now you all can question the very basic principles of capitalism. But this is rather exaggerated. Because all I want for them is to get their own Internet connection. Is it THAT difficult?!

So, you earn your keep, you pay your connection, you stop complaining when it's down.

And most importantly... I KEEP DISCONNECTING!

Hah.

That's enough of a rant.

I feel satisfied.

Remember, if you want to get a feeling, you must look to the West...

Light Bulb.

2011-05-18T19:52:00.003+08:00

One of the craziest thing I've done during NS is probably staying over at a friend's place in Hougang when I need to book in tomorrow.

It was a battle of my wits, agility, determination (to get out of bed) and perseverance against time. Of course, the logistic of having my army uniform and shoes 'shipped' over was pretty... daunting. Well, I've always loved these sort of stupid, mindless challenges. Like how I would, from nowhere, find the energy and spirit to want to jog home from Tanah Merah/Eunos/Paya Lebar. Like how I'd wander around, trying to find my bearings when I'm lost. Like how I love to do things which I usually don't. It sort of opens a path in my brain - a pathway that is untouched, pristine and it's potential waiting to be tapped on.

But I really looked like - and feel like - a zombie today in camp.

And speaking of sleepless nights and wasted time; ever felt how social media stuff kind of just saps your soul?

This is a scenario we're all pretty familiar with.

1. Come back from work/school.

2. Enter www.facebook.com.

3. ZOMG at 300+ new posts and a handful of notifications.

4. Scroll agonizing through every single post, filtering utterly rubbish posts from the rubbish ones. (See what I did there.)

5. Repeat the process with blogger/twitter/tumblr/Farmville/Whatnots you have.

We are wasting our lives here, people! Hah, me, the one who constantly gives excuses to procrastinate, to delay and not do things because of laziness and the constant fear of making mistakes. Me, trying to bring across the message that social media is a not-so-complete waste of time.

It's like asking a priest how to have sex.

Unless, of course, you're asking a Catholic one. (See what I did there, again?)

Anywho, this post is just a heads-up, so that y'all won't be bored reading nothing. Yes yes, I have been neglecting this blog, but then, I really don't have much to write about. 'Cos most of the time, the conditions are not conducive for writing. I really, REALLY want a time to relax.

Okay, let's talk about conditions which are conducive for writing.

First, it needs to be in a rather gloomy, melancholic and/or dreamy/dark weather. Preferably at midnight, after/before/during rain - not too heavy, at dawn, a bit of darkness, misty atmosphere, many stars. Y'know, the sort where you'd expect a wizened old man to sit you down on a musty wooden table, in a dilapidated hut, offer you a short, wooden stool to sit on and flips open an extremely thick, yellowed book and starts reading you a story.

I kind of write better when I'm in the dark; I remembered offing all my lights and just allowing my amplifier's blue lights to illuminate the floor. Add a bit of imagination and you can describe those lights as "ethereal blue wisps dancing on a murky, misty swarm".

Emotions = creativity.

It's an equation!

So, the next time you feel like you're stuck. Stuck somewhere. Stuck in thoughts, in work, in academic stuff. Off your lights. And think. Think of being in a dark room, with only dim lighting. Then imagine the light bulb in your head going off! Afterwards, you'll probably be free from your writer's block. (:

LotR: 30 Days Challenge.

2011-05-12T19:33:00.000+08:00

CHALLENGED ACCEPTED.

Taken from Tricia, who had taken it from Tumblr.

Day 1: Your favourite book.

I didn't finish reading all the books, because I still cannot fathom how people are able to visualize Middle-Earth through Tolkien's way of writing. He is just such a... Words fail to describe him as a writer, really.

Day 2: Your favorite film.

Return of the King! Because it's officially the part where Aragorn returns to be King and marries Arwen and the hobbits are treated like they're epic stuff and the usual happy ending stuff that I love. BUT it's so sad at the end when they had to sail for the Undying Lands. :'(

Day 3: Your most favourite male character.

Meriadoc because he is played by the OHSOCHARMINGANDSUAVEANDCUTE Dominic Monaghan!

Aragorn because he is, the KING, like a boss.

Legolas for being so pretty all the time.

Gimli for being a dwarf. I mean, everyone loves Dwarves...

And Gandalf for being kick-arse, and Pippin, and... The whole long slew actually.

Day 4: Your least favourite male character.

Boromir initially... But he is a courageous and valiant warrior. And for his sacrifice, I begun to love him as a character, for he is the one who is the most 'flawed', in a sense.

But actually, his father, that what-is-name (Denethor, after googling.) who is such a crazed arse sadistic bastard who sent Faramir to die. TO DIE. HOW COULD HE.

Day 5: Your favorite song from the soundtrack.

Hmm. Enya is a really talented singer; one would think she's of Elvish descent. Howard Shore's epicly awesome as well though. I think the Hobbit's Shire theme is pretty cute... They're all equally fantastic, really.

Day 6: Your most favourite female character.

Arwen Undomiel. NOTHING comes close to her.

Day 7: Your least favourite female character.

Legolas.

Day 8: Which one of the races of the Middle Earth do you think you resemble most?*

Men. Because I'm greedy and I want everythiiiing.

Day 9: Is there anything that you would have changed in the films (e.g.. added or dropped)?

Resurrect Boromir or something. I'd like to actually add every scene in the book into the film... But that's kinda impossible.

So far, from what I've read, add Tom Bombadil! So damn cute.

Day 10: A scene that always makes you laugh.

I need to start marathoning the series again...

Will it be appropriate if I said I laughed at how the crazy what-is-name guy jumped off Minas Tirith after setting himself on fire?

Day 11: Your least favourite book.

No comments on this.

Day 12: Your least favourite film.

I actually love all of them... But RotK was epic, Fellowship was novel, so TT is probably my least favourite.

Day 13: Do you prefer the books or the films?

Film. Because my English is never good enough to understand Tolkien and my visualization techniques are really poor.

Day 14: Can you speak Elvish language?

I know how to greet, but that's all. Ava vanta i salquesse. >:D

Day 15: If you were about to go and live anywhere in The Middle-Earth, where would you live?

EVERYWHEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. I'll be like some epic adventurer backpacking through Middle-Earth. Of course, I will not go where even shadows dare not. The eviiiil lands.

Day 16: Your favourite quote from the books.

Haven't read the whole book(s) yet...

Day 17: Your favourite quote from the films.

RUN FRODO RUN. (Or something like that.)

Day 18: Your favourite ship (i.e. romantic relationship, from canon or/and fan-fiction.

AragornxArwen. DUH WHAT ELSE.

Day 19: Was there any point(s) where you did think that Frodo would not be able to complete his task of destroying The Ring?

No, because there wouldn't be any point in the book/film anymore. It's HEX. xD

Day 20: Do you own any LOTR merchandise?

LotR weapons/battles book... But that's all.

Day 21: The spiffiest dresser.

Arwennnnnn. She glows in her white gown.

Day 22: If you were able to be any character you want, who would you be and why?

Aragorn. An epitome of a MAN.

Day 23: Have you got any LOTR related tattoos on you? What do you think about LOTR tattoos in general?

Tattoos hurt, and I hate needles. LotR tattoos are cool, but for tattoo in general, only artistic ones are really nice. I dislike tattoos that are ... non-artsy. And the tattoos the LotR cast got are just wew.

Day 24: Your most favourite battle.

Battle at Minas Tirith!

Day 25: Your least favourite battle.

Where the cowardly orcs outnumbered Boromir and he got shot through the heart, and you're to blame, you give orcs a bad name.

Day 26: First time reading/seeing The Fellowship of the Ring, what did you think about their decision to go through Moria (good or bad decision)?

Seeing how I almost cried when I thought Gandalf died, bad decision.

Day 27: Worst decision by one of the characters?

Don't really know...

Day 28: Which side you are on, Sauron’s or Gandalf’s?

Gandalf because he can own a Balrog, summon Gryffins, can emit light from his staff, be resurrected and well, he's really the kick-arse Megafather.

Day 29: If you had a chance to meet one of the members of the film cast, who would you like to meet?

If I can meet them... I'll probably just be silent and stare at his/her beauty and be like ZOMGHEREHE/SHEISFJSOJFODSF.

Day 30: How much does the trilogy mean to you and has it changed your life somehow?

It's part of my life, really. It transcends film or book. It goes into an ethereal, classy and legend-wait for it-dary state of art. The many issues the characters faced, Lit has really enabled me to appreciate Tolkien's works a whole lot better.

---

There we go! It actually crashed on me when I was on Day 27.

Sorry to keep y'all with fillers. I swear I'll write during the weekends; for now, just be contend with this. >:D

2011-05-10T21:54:00.001+08:00

Damn, I feel sexy after my workout. :D

General Election.

2011-05-08T11:31:00.004+08:00

The only reason why I detest the mainstream is because of its purpose, not the cause.

They sell their souls and join mainstream, to be like the others, a cacophony of voices which drown each other out, braying like one single-minded sheep. One's individuality is lost and when one so readily accepts mainstream views and ideas, then one's originality and creativity is inevitably sapped.

Of course, you may argue that people want to be mainstream to "fit in" the crowd.

That's easily refutable: What's wrong with standing out? Standing out for all the correct reasons, of course. Excelling in some sports, wearing fabulous clothes, having the charisma and confidence to stand in the spotlight and bask in it.

Most people who form the mainstream disgust me, for I detest those who have no ideas of their own. Those who will end up as employees instead of employers. Those who will work eight to six everyday, mindlessly going on their soulless ritual. Those who will be so petrified by their routine that they cease to think. Cease to love, cease to feel and cease to live.

I'll take the most recent GE2011 as a perfect example to illustrate my distaste for flock behaviour.

For goodness sake, don't pretend to be a political expert when, 90% of the time, what you have said has been said by someone else, just rehashed. We all know that in OUR generation, we haven't been through wars, we haven't been really affected by the major economic crises, we really have been just a sheltered lot.

So, I find it stupid for people to go around screaming for the heads of certain individuals to roll. I also find it absolutely abhorrent for people to vote the opposition just for the sake of it.

If you take a look at the opposition's policies, even I can tell that they're merely just poking the current government. Yes, you may say that they're working ever so harder and things like that, but are they really going to be as good as our current government? Indeed, our government had made some rather serious mistakes in the past, but which government hasn't?

Opposition policies are populist and at most are merely ONLY covering what the government hasn't introduced. Basically, nothing big enough to genuinely challenge the government for an overhaul. What I predict will happen in the next 10 years for Singapore politics: Opposition will still be a minority and that they'll exist just to put PAP on their toes. Political watchdogs, you can say.

Is there really a need for our government to be changed? Remember that if the government we elected with our own hands cannot deliver their promises, we'll be REGRESSING instead of PROGRESSING. The progress we are enjoying currently is based on the long-term vision of government past. My frank opinion is that Singapore has the best government in all of South-East Asia and I wouldn't trade our government for any other.

Anyway, Mas Selamat's escape isn't necessarily the fault of the government. Having an inexperienced politician isn't the fault of the government. So, instead of just looking at the trivial, minute details, why not look closely to the policies which they offer? You'll realise that opposition policies are really just trivial stuff; like I said before, populist ideas which may allow them to get votes.

At the end of the day, you have to think: Which government is one which can bring you progress? Which government will stay resolute and calm in the face of adversity? Which government is one to stay?

Note: The writer of this article doesn't give half a hoot for politics because as a Singapore-born citizen, and subsequently a PR, he doesn't enjoy the privileges of being a Singaporean. In fact, his political knowledge is close to zilch and he'd rather watch a football match than the GE results. Moreover, he wishes that people stop being complete idiots and start "revolutionary cries" just for the sake of doing so. It's like you having a girlfriend and you still flirt with other girls just because. That said, I still don't really care for any politics unless our government is falling apart, which I last checked, isn't. You may or may not agree with the points raised by this essay, but I hope it's some food for thought and you won't all just fall into mainstream bull. At least don't be fooled by populist policies, that pisses me off for some reason. End of rant.

IN.

2011-05-05T20:16:00.004+08:00

I'm IN. I'm FREAKIN' IN.

IN, like y'know, IN IN.

IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN. IN.

---

I'm IN, like a boss.

--

1. Apply to all universities.
2. Wait nervously for a good few months while serving NS.
3. ????
4. IN!!!!!!

--

I'm IN Like a sombooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooOOOOOOoooooooOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOoooooooOOOOOooooooDEEEE~!

--

--

Guile's Theme fits with me jumping for joy, screaming "I'M INNNNNN!!!!!"

--

The power level of being IN is over 9000.

--

I herd u lyk inz.

--

DigiPen:

--

I'm sure there are hundreds of other memes out there, but heck, I'm IN. For goodness sake.

It actually felt like a dream. I went into my INBOX and clicked on a few messages, then I SAW THE GOLDEN MESSAGE. After agreeing to allow "untrusted" message to open, IT TURNED OUT TO BE A WoW message! I was like, WTF, AM I FREAKIN' DREAMING?!

Then I checked my JUNK folder and realized it is INDEED A WoW message. THEN I RETURNED TO MY INBOX.

AND VOILA.

IT'S TRUUUUUEEEE.

DOUBLE RAINBOW ALL THE WAY.

I'M ACCEPTED INTO DIGIPEN!

I'm so sorry, I'm actually so freakin' elated right now that I can't stop screaming for joy. I CANNOT contain this explosive joy.

I'm like EXPLODING with epic joy. Like a boss. Like a buk buk buk buk buk lao.

JOY JOY JOY JOY JOY.

WHOOOOOPIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!!!

---

I swear to you guys. I do things the United way.

PSLE ---> Trying to go CCHMS, but ended up in TK. A serendipitous discovery! Just one point short of CCHMS.

Streaming ---> GOT INTO DOUBLE SCIENCE STREAM WITH PURE LIT. Another serendipitous discovery! This is so epicly sweet 'cos my ranking is like 300/350 or something.

O's ---> Got ALL As. But All A2s. Got into TPJC... AND FANTASTICALLY WENT INTO TPGE WHERE I LEARN ALOT OF THINGS.

A's ---> Got straight Cs... BUT I GOT INTO MY DREAM SCHOOL. I'M NOW LIKE A SOMBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. DEE!

That's definitely the United way; taking the hard way, making everyone tense and nervous and all, and then finally getting the results.

Before I get overly delirious (If I'm not already...), I'd better log off. I'M IN!

Bed Bugs.

2011-05-04T03:00:00.002+08:00

Because in life, you always fall in love with wrong persons, at wrong times, for all the wrong things.

Vampires.

Girls who don't sleep at night.

Boys who are so immaculately pretty that it's impossible to resist.

Or a sparkling mixture of both.

What next, a coven of Sisters in a Catholic all-girls school who are secretly involved in practising the dark ways of the Mystic Arts? Drinking the blood of fresh, virgin girls as a form of ritual? A suave, handsome-looking immortal who, because of his longing for eternal life, cannot die?

But then there's also a whole row of chick-lit books. To be painfully frank, I've tried reading... one? Well, it's kind of a fantasy mishmash, so yeah, not really fully chick-lit. Not that I totally dislike the whole chick-lit genre, but then, it is quite stereotypically bitchy and pretty predictable. Writing a whole novel about European girls worrying about shopping, boys, fashion, petty politics and sex just seems to be trivial to me. We always have shoujo-manga for that.

Another bout of migraine left me sleeping at 9 plus, thus I didn't really check for the date of my match. It's actually TOMORROW. So yeah, sucks to be me when I could've slept for like so long.

And migraine-cum-vertigo seriously suck big time. It's the worst feeling one can ever get. I hate that feeling so much when it comes. Argh. I shall not rant.

What now. It's 3:16am. I'm feeling quite hungry, my head is spinning and I feel like puking.

I probably should go back to sleep but something's bugging me. Yeah, the bed bugs, so much that I cannot sleep because, the bed bugs. (Pun totally intended.)

. . .

Jeez, that was some really poor pun.

Now there's one long, awkward silence. What do you do when you are faced with an awkward silence? Give off a nervous smile? Attempt to break the silence?

I guess I'm pretty straight-forward at times. Especially when circumstances allow me to discard my more happy-go-lucky persona. Yes, I'm quite reliable when I'm needed, although I may not seem like it at all. I may be over-critical, but that's part of my perfectionist self that allows me to improve so much. I ask too many questions; because I care and I am concerned.

No, no cliche things like "either you love me or you hate me". Because, let's face it, if someone who is NOT immaculately pretty, i.e. your favourite bishie, says that to you, obviously you'll hate him for being such a complete snob.

After reading that darned semi-romance book about how "Love is everything", I'm starting to turn towards my old cynical self. Nono, don't go off jumping trains and conclusions that I had a bad romance or that I'm emotionally abused since childhood or anything.

But I personally feel that Love is something that is really difficult to pinpoint. If it's there, it's there. You wouldn't give an exact feel to it. It's like how you try to reach a certain location in a maze and you can never really get there. Or like how you try to explain to others how much your bed bugs you and they don't really understand the situation. The situation which leads to every nation. (Oh God, no, not that song.)

I wished I had a DSLR. I really love photography. A theme that would be prominent in my shots would be the night.

Because, like so many self-acclaimed romantic poets out there, I can actually feel the night. Yeah carpe noctem and all aside, I really can feel it sometimes. As if Nature is trying to reach out to you. By giving you something beautiful to appreciate when the going gets tough. I think it's only when things that ugly, that you get to see the beautiful side of things. Of people. Of environment.

What I would give to breathe in the crisp night air with you, fingers interlocked, sauntering down the beach, just you and I. Pull you close to me when you say you feel the chill, press my body against you to give you heat, looking into you so intensely with my pale blue eyes. Running my long fingers through your silky, auburn hair, and being infinitely sad that you are merely a fiction of my imagination. You are Stranger Than Fiction.

Sigh. Feeling rather melancholic. The sort of melancholy you want when you want to write. Unlocks your emotional chakra gates and then you pour everything out. Coming up with random, semi-romantic paragraphs and then trying to act all poetic. Writing gibberish with a sense of truth, for all lies become truths when propagated with enough force and over a period of time.

I'd get more of these melancholic bouts but sadly, they seem to go away when, deep in my mind, I know that tomorrow sees a day of unproductive work in camp. You women think that NS is really easy. You 'men-with-too-much-testosterone-and-ego' can't put up the fact that we, PES E personnel, get to book out everyday and think that we have the BEST jobs in the world.

-- Wait. I shall not rant about NS. It's not WORTH keeping myself awake. Not when I have the best time in the day to write. To write creatively. To express my thoughts and opinions; my values.

Oh, there comes the impulse again. To write about love. Fantasy. Fiction.

Hahahaha, I guess you all have to make do with eccentric me today. This post will be disjointed and weird. Probably won't make much sense. I don't make much sense to myself either.

By the way guys, check out "OUTASIGHT". I know I've said this before, but since I'm thinking of Fiction, I thought of his "Stranger Than Fiction". So yeah, check him out, he's a really good musician.

Buuuuutttt. Back to me. Since I'm narcissistic and am a huge ego-maniac, all attention must come back to me. I'd have to contend with not being the most interesting, unique or quirky persons of all time. Because I'll admit, I'm geeky. I stay at home all day. I wait for things to happen - more often than not, they don't happen at all. I'm plain, thoroughly thorough plain. Like a prata kosong.

Now you're waiting for this ultimately cheesy part where I say that "Oh but prata kosong is also lovable because we still love prata kosong (well, because it's CHEAP.) and oh how we must stick true to ourselves and then eventually, through loads of loads of training (and loads and loads of flashback scenes a la Naruto) we'll eventually come out of our cocoon and voila, become butterflies."

Sorry to burst your bubble. Life doesn't work that way. (I'm sadistic and schizophrenic; I love to advocate stereotypes and I also love to debunk them.)

Tonight's a night of realization and epiphany. I seriously think there's market for boy-lit. What'd you call those, then? I'll probably call it emo-pansy-lit. HAHAHA.

Now, like I said earlier, when it's time to be serious, I'll be. So for my readers out there with troubles - any troubles - just do the following. This applies to all troubles, not just financial, or relationships, or you are having trouble finding that cat which took a triple A battery and hid it above the underground storeroom which is sealed with a time lock. (If that made sense to you.)

The first thing to do is to ignore the problem if you can't solve it after a number of tries.

Then get some breather.

Go back and tackle it again.

Because I'm Jovi and I'm stubborn and determined to do things MY way to get MY desired results, I'll just rinse and repeat the whole 3 steps. So I guess there really IS some form of either love-me-or-hate-me kind of things. Well, at least when it comes down to my attitude.

It's not entirely a kick-arse attitude. Or a cold and tsundere one (only applicable to immaculately pretty sparkling beings). It's just plain old me.

4am.

I should probably get an hour of sleep. Due to migraine I haven't pack my bag yet.

Yes, I need to pack my bag 'cos I go to camp in civvies. And I have to bring my book, water bottle and breakfast. Just a few things.

Won't be finding pictures. Deal with the long post. I hate post-migraine effects. That freakin' feeling of an ~~ex-girlfriend harassing you~~hangover just pisses me off so badly.

'Til then, good nights.

Emptiness Filling.

2011-04-30T07:18:00.003+08:00

It's 7am in the morning. I really love the weather as it is now. The cool air that gently brushes your skin and teases you is crisp and invigorating. It's almost as if you're one with nature; time stands still, there is minimal human activity. Now I really wonder if the people over at colder climate and with less hectic life can do so well in the artistic areas because of the climate in their country.

I've never felt so... what's the correct word to use? Clear-headed, perhaps? Yes, I'm pretty clear-headed and that makes me want to write. I'll even go as far to say that I attribute this feeling to the fact that I had a semi-lucid dream. As usual, I wasn't able to control my astral projections and the dream is forgotten soon after.

Yet, a part of my dream lingers on in me. It's the sort of feeling you get when there's a word on the tip of your tongue and you suddenly seem to forget it. Yeah, those feelings. But it isn't one of frustration where you can lost. Instead, you are lost in the sweet serenity of nothingness.

I'm not exaggerating. It really is a feeling of rebirth, of the state of being open. It's been a long while since I had this feeling. Last I remembered, a year or two back? The period when I started writing lots of beautiful essays?

Without the stress of needing to report to camp, without the stress of anxiously, nervously waiting for universities to accept you, without the stress of everyday life.

This Saturday morning, I hereby proclaim, is perfect for me.

Football in the morning, shopping in the afternoon, late night partying. I guess it's quite a hectic schedule but for now, I shall indulge in this serenity. That bird call that occurs every other half a minute seems to add to the mystical atmosphere.

However, I must add more to my vocabulary. I can't seem to find enough words to describe my surroundings; I only did description essay once in Secondary school and I scored rather well. When I have that inspiration coming, it's pretty hard to stop. And I must say, it's pretty darn wonderful as well.

For now, this post shall be a minor update, because I know that I haven't been blogging in a long, long time. Pardon me, NS isn't really an excuse, but I don't want to compromise quantity posts for a single post's quality. And I have a bottle of ice wine at home. That means late night wine appreciation time with myself, the beautiful, mysterious moon which hides coquettishly behind the veils of the clouds and the thousands of glittering stars.

Would it be wrong to call these wonders of nature my companions? For they are, at times when I needed one. They are, when things go ugly and they're still there - untouched, untainted, beautiful. Obviously, they are there because they cannot go away from you no matter how lousy you are. (Yes, that last line is laced with sarcasm. I cannot SAY it with sarcasm over the net, remember?)

Ahh, before I start on a long essay - it's 7.25am now - I must remember of my football appointment.

I've a feeling today's going to be a good day. Before I leave, I shall think of a fancy quote, hmm...

~~~

"Run ahead of a time and you'll fall into darkness. Laze behind time and you'll be filled with regrets. Live your life. NOW is the time."

When Two Moons Align.

2011-04-24T22:34:00.002+08:00

When Two Moons Align

The crimson scythe cuts across the skies,
moulded into a crescent by the heartless sighs.
It's graceful oscillations turn both time and tide,
yet your heart does not abide.

Waltzing otherwise, a crystallised frozen azure.
The perfect symmetry of sphere,
reminiscence of your beautiful face.
But I am now gone, without a trace.

Alas! The time when the two moons ever meet,
it will be a timely sign.
Know that my persevering love is no mere feat,
when you look up to the skies and the two moons align.

---

Whew. I think it's time for me to do a re-cap of the long list of literary devices which was taught to me by my Lit teachers. Penning amateurish poems is fun, gratifying sometimes, but it just never seems to be that professional. Anyway, my 'fun' week of playing table tennis has come to an end and I will now return to boring and mundane clerk work in Selarang Camp.

I seriously hate it there. But I must 'psycho' myself to like it, or my two years will feel very, very loooong. Oh, I'm 21 months away from ORD-ing.

Great.

Anyway, I'm now looking forward to my weekends. It's high time I got off to do some thrift-shopping. Y'know, the kind of shopping where you get cheap yet good-fitting clothes that look good. Call it budget or whatever, it's the most ideal way of shopping and increasing your wardrobe.

Because I'm just not rich enough. If you guys haven't already know, I'm currently self-sufficient, living on $380 a month. I'm going to cut off Aviva next month. Call them up for sometime. Freakin' scam of an insurance company.

DAMN!

Guess what - my computer's desktop is currently full. I need to start tidying up my desktop. ):

Oh well, this post is just a post for me to unleash my inner poet.

So deal with it, I haven't got anything smart or inspirational to write.

2011-04-21T01:12:00.001+08:00

Character Analysis.

2011-04-20T22:48:00.003+08:00

Character Analysis: Image 05
A member of the elite government commando group named Blood Wings; Razel Sorath has, over the years, worked his way up the ranks of the Blood Wings, and is currently a senior member of the group. Blood Wings is an organization which specializes in covert operations like espionage, assassination and sabotage. When Razel was eleven, his parents were murdered in front of his eyes in a seemingly random robbery. The authorities quickly deemed the case cold and since Razel’s parents were migrants with no immediate family, he was sent to an orphanage. In a month, scouts of the Blood Wings picked Razel up from the orphanage and offered him a stable job, food and a place to call his home. Furthermore, he was offered training to assist in government operations.
Razel, having been forced into maturity at a young age, decided that joining the group is in his best interests and while the nightmare of his parents’ deaths still haunts him at night, he knows he has to grit his teeth and survive everything life has thrown at him. One day, he wishes to eventually hunt down his parents’ murderers to avenge them.
Razel Sorath is a complicated and multi-faceted character. Since his parents were migrants of Midorf, the capital city of East Edge, they lived in the shoddy outer sector of the city, where non-professionals such as blacksmiths, tavern owners and stable masters worked in. Razel has inherited the looks of his father, who was from the Outer Continents, and thus has blonde hair and very fair skin. Razel has been living in the Blood Wings headquarters in the inner sector of the city ever since joining the group.
The way in which his parents were brutally murdered in front of him has made Razel an introverted character. During his stay in the orphanage, Razel did not interact at all with the other orphans. Instead, he stood by himself most of the time and when others played, he would just keep to himself. Even the matron of the orphanage could not get Razel to speak, and thus, he was ostracized by the other orphans and was subjected to name-calling and bullying. When he was accepted into Blood Wings, Razel kept his distance from his comrades, maintaining his image as a ‘loner’. Preferring to work alone, he usually distrusts everyone until they can prove him otherwise. This self-defense mechanism is employed by Razel so that he will not have any emotional attachment to anyone so as not to jeopardize his safety or the mission success.
The way he dresses up – in this case, in a black and white striped tuxedo – is a reflection of his no-nonsense attitude and that everything he deals with is strictly business. Furthermore, the red scarf which he always wears over his mouth is a grim reminder of his parents’ murder and also to uphold Blood Wings’ rule of secrecy, even in death.
As a man of action, Razel is able to move through the ranks fairly quickly as he has an uncanny talent in close-quarter combat. Nevertheless, he is skilled in the usage of both long-range and short-range weapons. His lean build and strong limbs also help him during stealth and infiltration training. When he is promoted to the rank of senior officer, he is given the crimson red shoulder pad which is an emblem of seniority in the Blood Wings. Despite his promotion, the majority of his comrades see him as a cold person who keeps to himself and only speaks when necessary. Hence, there is hardly anyone in the organization that he can truly call a friend.
All seven senior officers of Blood Wings are each given an Amber Dream, a serum which when injected into the blood stream, which greatly increases the affinity of the individual with a particular type of metal. In Razel’s case, Amber Dream has given him the ability to manipulate pure silver. His primary weapon is disguised innocuously as a silver walking staff. Upon activation of his skill, the silver staff morphs into liquid silver and covers his arm, and from there, Razel can freely manipulate the liquid silver into anything which he envisions in his mind. Most of the time, Razel’s swift and deadly approach means that he prefers to go on the offense, thus he morphs the silver into a katar which he uses with deadly precision, almost like an extended arm since he is exception in close-quarter combat.
A character like Razel can fit into almost every game genre. His background in stealth, assassination and combat can land him into stealth/action games a la Metal Gear Solid. With more sophisticated background and characterization, he can also fit into an (MMO)RPG as his complicated nature makes it easy to manipulate his character to fit the story plot and to introduce plot twists.
As a fiercely independent character, Razel is self-motivated and follows by his own set of rules and values. He is determined, hardheaded, if not stubborn, and once he sets him mind on something, there is little that can stop him from achieving it.
His lean build and long limbs make him adopt an out-fighting stance, where he is able to overcome his opponents with superior agility and footwork. Nevertheless, Blood Wings officers are trained in brutal attack techniques, similar to the Krav Maga combat system. More often than not, however, the usage of stealth is more than enough to catch his target completely off-guard, thus eliminating the risk of exposing himself to other enemies. Catching his target off guard diminishes the need for Razel to engage in close-quarter combat. Hence, his fighting style is more geared towards the offensive use of stealth, agility and technique.
Character Analysis done by: JOVI KARTOLO

---

My character analysis. Massive thanks to my proof-readers who read this 2-page essay in the middle of the night; Jia-en, Jon and Tricia. Also, I appreciated the input the three of you have given me. ;)

Miscommunication.

2011-04-19T16:15:00.002+08:00

Worst day ever. I walked out of the interview room feeling like a total fool. And abso-fucking-lutely disappointed at myself.

I pride myself to be a genius and yet, I cannot answer a simple common logic question.

Stuck there, wide-mouthed for 15 minutes, given 2 prompts and yet, the deafening silence made my other ear deaf. And then, my heart stopped.

On the journey home, I was so frustrated, angry and disappointed that I gave glares to anyone who dared to look at me. Yeah, I was THAT pissed.

EVERYTHING went wrong today.

1. Thinking of SOYC, I went to CLEMENTI instead of BUONA VISTA. Then I remembered that ACJC and DigiPen are at the more 'ulu' places, so I backtracked, wasting precious time.

2. When I went into the MOE building, the guard told me there's NO interview. Took my 11-B, checked and scanned and stuff and just sent me off. Then I called DigiPen and since the secretary was out for lunch, someone told me to go there for the interview. So I ran.

And ran the distance from my house to Parkway times 3. Yeah, it was pretty damn far, I was in my nice shirt, and IT IS OUT IN THE DAMNED SUN. So freakin' hot, running at 2pm.

3. Turns out I'm supposed to go SIT and not DigiPen. *Oh horrors*

4. Cabbed down to SIT which is located at City Hall, opposite Parliament House. Turns out that parliament dissolved. Guess $10 dissolved from my wallet as well.

5. Bombed a SIMPLE, COMMON SENSE question which I'M SURE I COULD ANSWER WITHOUT INTERVIEW STRESS. I went mute for 15 minutes. Prompted me twice and I was still mute.

6. Walked away a disappointed chap.

But who the heck do y'all think I am? Of course, the disappointment lasts a while. Then anger kicks in. Constructive anger. After that, I'm freakin' motivated. Because I want to write my essays 'til they're so awesomefantastic that it'll rip the eyes out of the sockets of anyone who reads it.

Because that's Jovi, right? >:)

Enough ranting, time to kick some royal arse and show the world why DigiPen should accept me.

GAME MODIFICATION, CHARACTER AND WORLD ANALYSIS, HERE I COME!

50 Random Questions.

2011-04-16T22:22:00.003+08:00

50 Random Questions

1. Where were you 3 hours ago?

Eighteen Chefs.

2. Who are you in love with?

Me, I and myself.

3. Have you ever eaten a crayon?

Never.

4. Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

Nah. Not that I think that pink is unacceptable as a colour.

5. When is the last time you went to the mall?

Yesterday. Went to Boon Lay Point and damn, the mall is good. Better than Nex!

6. Are you wearing socks right now?

I'll probably sweat like mad if I do.

7. Do you have a car worth over $2,000?

I don't even own a car.

8. When was the last time you drove out of town?

Read above.

9. Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days?

Nope.

10. Are you hot?

Absolutely sizzling hot.

11. What was the last thing you had to drink?

Arbor Mist, Chardonnay. Right after dinner.

12. What are you wearing right now?

Bugs Bunny shirt and Cheetah shorts.

13. Do you wash your car or let the car wash do it?

Read above's above.

14. Last food that you ate?

Home-made food.

15. Where were you last week at this time?

Damnit, don't remind me of last week, but if I remembered correctly, I'm at Judith's party, drinking 10 shots of vodka and whiskey.

16. Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?

I think not. But! I was so tempted to shop at Boon Lay Point.

17. When is the last time you ran?

Today.

18. What's the last sporting event you watched?

ENGLISH PREMIER LEAGUE!

19. What is your favorite animal?

I don't have favourites... but...
Anything furry, lovely and cute. Like cats, or big dogs, squirrels, penguins, girls...

20. Your dream vacation?

Anywhere cool and safe.

21. Last person's house you were in?

Clement's.

22. Worst injury you've ever had?

Car accident while on a bike. And survived. LIKE A BOSS.

23. Have you been in love?

Only fools rush in. But yes, I have.

24. Do you miss anyone right now?

Yes.

25. Last play you saw?

I love this. PROOF.

26. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?

It's called S-E-C-R-E-T for a friggin' reason.

27. What are your plans for tonight?

Read something, chat with friends and stay up late to watch United trash City.

28. Who is the last person you sent a MySpace message or comment?

My, what?!

29. Next trip you are going to take?

No idea.

30. Ever go to camp?

Yeah, Selarang Camp.

31. Were you an honor roll student in school?

I'm an honor troublemaker. That count?

32. What do you want to know about the future?

What I know to know about the future is what I am already looking at the present and that is what the past has came to tell.

33. Are you wearing any perfume or cologne?

Yes. Burberry.

34. Are you due sometime this year for a doctor's visit?

I hope not.

35. Where is your best friend?

Somewhere between heaven and hell, a rock and a hard place, and the lesser of two evils.

36. How is your best friend?

My best friend is my best friend.

37. Do you have a tan?

A little bit. I have a tan pretty easily.

38. What are you listening to right now?

Oziel Zinho - Wolverine.

39. Do you collect anything?

Dust.

40. Who is the biggest gossiper you know?

The irony of this question is that once someone answers this with a name other than himself, then that would make him one of the biggest gossiper ever as well.

41. Last time you got stopped by a cop or pulled over?

When I grand theft auto'd a 7-wheeler BMW after downing 4 shots of Dettol and went around slashing students with a 20-feet katana thinking I'm Sephiroth.

42. Have you ever drank your soda from a straw?

Straws are for noobs.

43. What does your last text message say?

"U mean u r selected? Ok... Win a trophy back. :)"

44. Do you like hot sauce?

HELL YEAH!

45. Last time you took a shower?

I wanted to take one, but this quiz stood in the way. So... this morning.

46. Do you need to do laundry?

I'm a lazy bum.

47. What is your heritage?

Heri-what?

48. Are you someone's best friend?

I doubt so.

49. Are you rich?

Nope.

50. What were you doing at 12AM last night?

Wanking.

Actually, I forgot. But I'm sure I wasn't sleeping. If I'm not wrong, I was chatting with bunch of my friends.

2011-04-12T21:05:00.001+08:00

I've thought about it.

I'm worth so much better.

'Cos I'm Jovi. >:)

2011-04-12T01:16:00.001+08:00

Gosh, Irish girls are so beautiful! xD

Soundcheck.

2011-04-11T00:01:00.003+08:00

It's funny how one tries so desperately to want to try to grab onto things they can when things are going out of control. Desperately clawing onto the very little things that they possess, tangible and intangible. Those that others - many others - have plentiful of.

I sometimes can relate to the Blues players. The more they feel, the better they play. Their emotions seep from their fingertips and manifest themselves in the bends and slides of the guitar. What they produce is soulful music, one that heals and mends. Now, I wonder about the notion of 'sex, drugs and rock 'n roll'. It may not be the case that sex, drugs, alcohol and violence epitomises the 80's rock scene. In fact, rockers may just be like artists. They are depressed, or they feel hurt, or they want to have fun and these feeling manifests themselves in their behaviour and attitude.

In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you

Before Jimi Hendrix was famous, he has already been taking drugs. Ironically, the world is robbed of an extremely talented musician as he choked on his own vomit. (I'm not here to argue about the various possible theories of Hendrix's death.) What I'm trying to imply here is that Hendrix is just a regular human who grapples with many emotional issues. His music is a manifestation of his issues, an outlet for him.

Like how I can bend so gracefully - bluesy, they call it. The arppegiated runs, the sweeping, the scales. They all seemed to run so fluently, so peacefully now that my mind is empty. It's blank.

Because of all the emotions swirling around, it's best to shut it down. Why bother getting hurt over and over again? But no. I have a theory. If Cloud gets hurt again and again, he may just hide his emotions by being a HAPPY guy. Y'know how reverse psychology works.

Dry your tears, with love

Oh and my pentatonic scale? I've ran it upside-down, inside-out from the 1st Pentatonic scale fret to the 18th fret. All playing my own creation. And for some reason, I improvised pretty impressively tonight. BLUES.

Is Heaven making fun of me, by making me play the blues? The action of moving my hand, stroking your beautiful, fair neck. My fingers gently going over the frets, bending each and every note to sublime perfection. Every lick, every riff, a creation of mine, as I pushed aside the agony and pain, to deliver my emotions. Fingertip emotions.

My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all

I've played almost every song in my music folder. DragonForce. Bon Jovi. Mozart. Bach. Beethoven. Stratovarius. Iron Maiden. Apache. Mike Oldfield's Moonlight Shadow. Black Mages. Nobuo Uematsu. Dido. Robbie Williams. Bruno Mars. Timeless Miracle. Taylor Swift. Rhapsody of Fire. Queen. Access. Uverworld. Orange Range. Asian Kung-Fu Generation, Mr. Big, Paramore, Muse.

I still can't find reprieve. O Sanctuary, where forth art thou?

I'll be damned if I am able to find my sanctuary in my army camp. The long, dreadful hours of doing nothing will make my mind go wild. Think crazy stuff.

What about my mental fortitude? There are just a few things that can drive my emotions wild. Stoic I may be, I'm human after all. I find it increasingly difficult in keeping up with my nonchalant facade.

Well, if there is a creator out there, he or she certainly didn't make us fair. (No, I do not attribute my weakness to a greater entity because if there is anyone at fault for not doing good, then it is I, myself.)

What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair
Touch your lips and hold you near

I'm glad for friends who are helping me tide through my... own personal crisis. Haha! How self-depreciating I am now. Laugh it all off, so they say. And it works for this l'il Gemini here.

I'll never let myself down by being sad over something so elementary. Now, I sound like I'm trying to convince myself here, but my character just doesn't allow me to be a mopey dopey person. Too much confidence and pride.

Of course, I'm using my blog as a form of outlet. My long-term readers, do y'all get mixed reactions when I'm feeling down? Like, you guys get a good read and are satisfied, but at the same time you're pitying me.

Just concentrate on the former, I don't want no sympathy, although I appreciate it.

Deep inside I know you feel it too
Waiting on the lines of green and blue
Just to be the next to be with you

Just like music, my brain - VERY WEIRD I KNOW! - seems to work better when I'm feeling down. Damnit, there must be a link somewhere between depression and genius. And immediately the first thing I think up of is that book. 10 points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's Proof.

Proof. The tug-o-war between genius and madness.

Right! After typing everything, I feel much better, although the situation remains static. Deary me, getting caught in this 2 x 4 situation again. Why, oh why, must I always emulate characters from my texts?! I am more faithful than I can be, says Tom, but you can remain stuck in your glass menagerie for all I care - I am not crazy enough to be nailed into a coffin alive like you. I'm also not crazy enough to write 20 poems behind shoe boxes and then gas myself to death.

Neither am I going to stalk people up late, look into that Eye whole night, contemplate murder, and then be killed by rigor mortis a la The Telltale Heart.

At least, I can look on the bright side.

Send someone to love me
I need to rest in arms

The bright side being what? I don't know. Perhaps, I'll be fooling around in Discreet Escorts somewhere in Cape Town, Africa. Yeah, that gives me an idea. I'll book my rehabilitation resort with Lurie. Maybe we can find joy in dissecting and analyzing Byron's opera. Who knows, we might even come up with some interesting music - him on the banjo and me on the guitar!

Now, you may think me mad, but I'm not mad. I'm, in fact, the most sane. Now, I shall tell you my story...

Will there be a Charlotte in my life who will weave webs about how wonderful I am? (I really chuckled when I thought of this reference.)

Quirky occupation hazard, if you ask me. It always pops up around this time. And this moment. As in giving these references which no one understands will make time stop, allow me to make adjustments, and escape from reality. *gasp! another thematic issue!*

Brings me to mind some of the fantasy stories that I've read the past few months. I don't call it karma, but one person's happy ending may be the sacrifice of one or more others' own happy ending. Get my drift?

Stare at life through eyes of mine
the hate the fear and the pain
There's a feeling held deep inside - when life you live is in vain

It's 1:00am plus in the morning. I have camp tomorrow. I am depressed.

My quick-fix? A long bath. I'll sit and meditate and empty my mind. Be one with nature. Spirituality! Or probably just smoke some acid and then go high on acid-trips and asphyxiate on my own vomit and die.

Death before 20, if I remembered correctly, is a notion brought to me by another ice queen.

Okay! I'm back online, back up on my feet, zuru-zuru zuru-zuru, up and good to go.

I quote directly from one of my fantasy books. "Jealous? Who, me?"

Just a bit tsundere, just a bit unwilling, just a bit hurt, but still fine.

Oh and I'm holding a contest. The person who can identify the songs which are italicized will be given my very own SIGNED album. Two rules, though. First, you have to identify yourself. Second, no Googling is allowed. If you cheat, you're dirty and ought to be beaten twice over by a fat, disease-infected sewer rat.

At least I still have my wits and sense of humour around. Love y'all! Sometimes I really feel like I'm Bon Jovi. Oh no. Bon Jovi feels like me! >:)

When the world gets in my face
I say
Have a nice day!

2011-04-10T22:18:00.000+08:00

Remember last post about SOYC? Yeah, I survived the day with ONE piece of chewing gum. From morning 'til the party. And no, it's not advisable. Because my jaws are hurting the whole day and the day after.

I've also lost my voice from 'singing' too many DragonForce, Stratovarius, Deep Purple and stuff.

I'm shouting myself hoarse. And playing guitar.

UNLEASH THE FURY! >:D

Tofu.

2011-04-10T08:33:00.003+08:00

That was one hell of a journey.

Today's post will be a typical journal entry because it's early in the morning and I'm still pretty tired after yesterday's events.

0900hrs - 1300hrs (TPGE@Tampines)
1100hrs - 1800hrs (SOYC@Ngee Ann Poly)
1830hrs - 0200hrs (Jud's party@Georges, Siglap)

So, my initial plan in mind was to go help out with sectionals, leaving around 1100hrs, hopefully reaching NP by 1200hrs, and then reach the party at around 2000hrs.

Buuuuttt, in the end, me being super lazy, didn't want to go Tampines. Partly because I know that my presence there won't be very helpful, partly because going to Tampines and going to Clementi from Tampines is very, very tedious. So at 1100hrs, I was on the train to Lavender.

Initially, Jon is supposed to meet me at Lavender, but he didn't see the train coming, so I had to stop at Bugis to wait for the next train. But thank God that Jon came along SOYC with me, otherwise I'd have felt so lost.

The moment I lay my eyes on you, I felt bliss.

Because there were so, so, so many people and I'm not really the type who'd go around, mix and talk and do stuff. Which I eventually did, but with much procrastinating and after mustering of my limited courage.

I had a friend who's selling artwork there, another who's taking part in a singing competition and another who's part of the Kamen Rider cosplay group.

First of all, selling art there isn't easy at all. Most people just come, see and go. Veni, vedi but not vici. Plus, there were really professional artists there with all their hand-made merchandises, tofu plushies, art that is drawn to great detail and of course, I was very, VERY tempted to buy a Shana bolster cover. And it's quite cheap at $20!

The band and singing performances were good, although the sound was very loud and sometimes even ear-piercing. What I noticed from the band performances was that if you have money, you definitely sound better. I'm not dissing those people who have dedicated hours into playing their instruments, but really, having the money to buy a good instrument goes a long way into one's musical career.

I secretly grinned to myself when I thought about how our dresses complimented and matched each other.

There was this guy who had 4 pedals, another guy with 8 pedals, then there was this champion with a rig full of pedals that I found it hard to count. Of course, you may say that a good musician will make a bad instrument sound good, but I haven't reach that standard yet.

Then there was the singing competition and damn, competition is really stiff. The singers were well-prepared and were really good. Well, I have a recording of my friend's, Netto Hikari, performance on video but it wasn't really clear or anything, so I'll upload it on Youtube when I feel less lazy. And I didn't really take much pictures of cosplayers because 1) I was too far and 2) I don't think my camera does the cosplayers any justice. I don't mean to be critical, but there aren't many good cosplayers around either.

Remember the Malaysian cross-dresser? Yeah, he's there as well.

After all the events and what-not, it was finally time to get over to the party.

And it freakin' rained.

Thank God for Tricia and her mother's car which really, really saved my life.

Would I have gone if I had knew? I don't know. Is Ignorance really bliss?

I rushed back home for a drink of water. Because, damnit, NP has NOTHING. JACK. ZILCH.

No food, no drinks at all and I didn't drink a sip of water or ate a crumb of bread since yesterday.

Again, thank God for the food at Judith's party.

And boy, was the party fun. Sort of a meeting with TK people and...

Okay, before all you judgemental people scrutinize me and judge me, I declare that I am NOT a good drinker, but I don't get wasted. Tipsy, yes. But I still have my values and morals when I'm tipsy. And yes, I still use my freakin' brain when I'm drinking.

That said.

Judith offered me 3 shots of Macallan.

Tell me truthfully. How many of you out there would resist a gorgeous birthday girl asking you to drink 3 shots of really good single malt whiskey?

See my point?

So through the night, other than a beer, some cocktail vodka, I had 10 shots of whiskey and vodka.

The whiskey shots were superb. Lovely.

Vodka? Well, I'm not Russian. Because in Soviet Russia, Vodka shots you. And because Vodka is terrible to drink. Yes, call me a pussy, but I find Vodka to be disgusting and cheap.

Am I drinking to drown my sorrows? No. Even if every conversation were to prick me like a needle, I'll stay silent and stoic.

I'm just glad I didn't burst out into swearing at some people at the bar. Although I must say I shouted GOAL pretty damn loudly because, well, it's a bar.

Okay, so I got real red and tipsy because of the shots and because 1) I haven't eaten a proper meal since yesterday and 2) I've been out the whole day thus I was tired.

BUT!

I didn't do anything funny. I didn't fall down. I didn't sing. I didn't do push ups. I didn't grope around. I didn't swear. I didn't vomit.

Okay, so I was very guai in that sense.

Still, one hell of a time there.

What if I told you the reason I was silent throughout is because I'm tsundere and I'm feeling jealous. And no, you're not to stare at me or roll your eyes.

Then I kind of walked home.

WALKED HOME. From Georges.

That means I'm not drunk, albeit I was staggering my way home. Like, really staggering. And I went home alone, without any incident.

After that, I just striped off my tie and vest and fell onto my bed.

Like.

Upper torso on the bed and my legs are kneeling on the ground. Like half-kneeling or praying. Yes, I didn't fall completely on my bed. Half my body was on the ground.

And the next morning, I woke up to find myself on the bed. Yes, whole body on the bed. Either my mother moved me up, or I slept-walked myself up. I'm guessing the latter, because I do that quite sometimes. And because I doubt my mother is able to carry me without rousing me from sleep.

I woke up and I hugged my bolster real tightly, thinking about yesterday's events.

I so needed to rant and get it out of my system.

Thank God for blogger.

After being so cynical and jaded, why am I still feeling this way?

I seriously don't comprehend myself.

PS. Pictures and videos later.

Determination.

2011-03-27T15:35:00.004+08:00

There's this one very good reason why I am always afraid to try. To take the first step out into the darkness.

I strive for perfection. I demand perfection. I am only satisfied by perfection.

But herein lies the paradox.

Perfection is something one can never achieve because if one attains perfection, it is no longer perfect. (And then there's this one whole list of ideas which we can go on discussing about, but I don't really have time for that. If memory serves me right, I have written about this issue on perfection before.)

Herein lies the trouble. After going through a series of life-changing decisions - mistakes which I have made, mistakes which, in hindsight, are not that easy to avoid, given my circumstances - I decide that these decisions sometimes can totally throw you off the path. Make you be adventurous, forced by circumstances to walk off the beaten path. Or that the beaten path is actually inaccessible.

As I sip upon the feisty and fruity sparkle of a chardonnay, I mused about the passionate and full kiss of a red merlot. Choices which we have to make in life can be as ordinary as choosing between an apple or a pear or it can be as stark and difficult like decisions which could make or break you.

There are subtle ones that require more contemplation, like when one has to, inevitably at one point of your life or another, choose between the lesser of two evils.

Then there are glaringly extreme ones such as the choice between fire and ice.

When faced with these chances, I sometimes would retreat into a shell - my comfort zone. There the status quo remains. I lie stagnant, a shell which will definitely not weather the test of time. Neither will it remain resilient against Fate. Thus, Change - as cliche as it always is - will occur. It's just a matter of how and when.

But me being me.

No matter how bruised I am, I try not to say it out loud. No matter how hurt I am, I won't show it.

Yes, I may whine and rant, but I'll never accept defeat straight up. I'll keep fighting for it.

In my own way.

Otherwise, there's nothing you can do except to put your own fate into hands of the unknown. Even when it gets tough. Even when it gets bleak. Jovi never gives up. He never says die. Cliche, but even since I was young, I was mischievous as hell.

I'm like a little troublemaker. No, I do not need to list down the horrors that I've done since I was a child. Of course, these 'horrors' are merely mischievous pranks and sweet, innocent tricks upon reflection, not the horror of having to take an AK-47 and shoot down people in a Somalian street.

So here I am, rockin' like a hurricane.

Even when all odds are against me, I will not give up. It's the United way. :)

Canon Impromptu.

2011-03-23T19:07:00.004+08:00

It's been a while. And I do agree that I haven't been writing much, just couldn't get that usual inspiration to write. Somehow, this inspiration to write has sometimes been mixed up as a depression to write. Angst is a very raw emotion which most - if not all - teenagers face.

I have a theory to explain why teenagers are usually brimming with rebellious angst.

First of all, at this juncture of life, most of us don't really know what we are going to do. Neither do we comprehend our objectives in life. Thus, we question our existence, we try to place purpose into our daily rituals - something we have all gotten used to, gotten bored of. Rituals are meant to ease tensions and yet, ironically, the monotony of going through the same rigor every day has led to a mental attrition, we have became dull in our senses. We no longer are the innocent, happy-go-lucky lot whom we call Children.

The weight of added responsibilities is something we don't get used to, for most of us, we lead normal lives. I don't need to go through the exact definitions of normal, but you do get the point. As I was saying, this burden weighs us down on our spiritual minds, on our souls. Because we are not far-sighted, we cannot see into the murky depths of this crystal ball we call Future. Being humans, we fear what we cannot comprehend, and thus, the feeling of angst is born.

I will go off-tangent for a while and say that no one - and I mean NO ONE - is capable of not experiencing angsty. Because there is just insufficient experiences, knowledge, wisdom, stoicism and fortitude in our age to now be drowned in angst. It is a terrible experience, I can tell you, but I am really glad that I have grown out of angst... a few years back. It's quite a rubbish emotion, if you can call an emotion rubbish. Because it is counter-productive, I logically thrash it aside after going through some kind of physical turmoil.

Now, I've read on a friend's blog how she has let go of how others view her and is starting to live in her own skin.

I'm self-conscious in a way, but yes, it is important to be able to live true to yourself; a principle I have lived by dearly probably due to my obsession with chivalric knights, honourable warriors and the sort of conviction one'd expect from a fantasy novel.

It's just something that grows into you. I'm sure many of you have sensed a change in style of writing since the first day I've started this blog. If not, I suggest going back into the archives of time and try reading some of the more... puerile writings I do for this blog.

Still, this feeling of void is bugging me. As if a part of my brain has stopped functioning. That there is, VERY ironically, no more meaning in life. Don't misunderstand me: I know roughly what I am set out to do, I'm just scared of raising my tiny, patched-up sail and letting the Winds carry me out of this harbour. (I apologise, I shall not start another rant. Let's move on.)

Although I still find the Six Rings of Friendship slightly incredulous, I still believe, to some extent, in Destiny. And of course, Destiny and Fate are never meant to be, unless one actively pursues his or her goals.

I believe that our destinies are all interwoven into this giant Tapestry of Fate and the threads that make up this out-of-the-world kind of art are the actions we take, the choices we make. Every success or failure is a different hue of the dye, the different emotions we feel are what differs the quality of the silk and of course, our very own personalities knit these threads into art; art that we want to see, art that we want to share, art that encompasses what we are all about.

That it is actually the most difficult trying to thread a needle. But once the weaving begins, it is all natural, somewhat instinctively magical.

Do I have, in myself, this pulse of magic?

I dearly hope I can find this aura in me.

P.S. It's very, VERY irritating when my neighbour keeps playing Fantasie Impromptu. Now I know how irritating it must be when I just play Canon in D everyday.

P.P.S. I am going to publicize my blog a bit more often, so that I get a bigger incentive and more motivation to actually write quality posts.

Snow Queen.

2011-03-16T20:15:00.006+08:00

Because the mere sight of you makes me ecstatic. Being in your presence makes me feel complete.

Just silenced whispers, words only for you to hear. To want to hold you in my arms, snuggle under a thick, warm blanket and tell tales of the past, of stories long forgotten under the starry night sky.

The full moon pays compliments to that soft, supple skin of yours, bathing it in creamy moonlight, further enhancing that ethereal look; someone so close, yet so far, perpetually out of reach.

As I reach my hand out towards you, to try to protect you and love you, I felt insecurity. Our insecurities.

For that slight smile that crept out of the corner of your lips, it was cold as snow; you are as fragile and delicate as ice. An intrusion by a stranger in your life will no doubt shatter you, if only I have intended to be more faithful than I can be. Instead, I write my thoughts on this page, those you'd never see. Ink blots forming shapes of black crows, taking flight in the silence of the night. Trying to rhyme these words, forming romantic couples, the cadence in itself is not lost.

For I have only myself to blame, falling in love with an icy princess of a tiny frame.

Woe be him who is enthralled by you, for that distanced stance is but of an ironic, attractive nature. And yet, for everything that you are not, that you doubt, are those that make you lovable.

Perfect yet flawed, you are the epitome of paradoxes.

---

An attempt at writing something romantic. Any good?

What really made it ironic is the writing's title: Epitome. What it reminded me of was the poem of dead. An epitome, a gravestone. So much irony in the world and yet not all is lost upon me.

Nay, I shall change the title to something more suitable: Snow Queen. I've been contemplating many complex issues since a few days back and perhaps, the recent apocalyptic disaster in Japan has been a springboard to many an idea.

So I decided to unwind a little; too bad I'm not wealthy enough to afford a house with a patio or a terrace. What a picturesque view worthy of Tumblr: A young adult, glass of chilled merlot in hand, gazing at the stars, with a distant look in his eyes as if all was still; timelessness in shot, the very essence of photography. Yes, I also cracked under temptation to open my third bottle of wine. I realise that red wine is not to my liking for it's far too 'acidic'. The tannins is far too bitter. Perhaps an indication that I should get 'better aged' red wines. Of course, if we think that price is a factor of quality, then the priciest red wine I've bought should be the $160 one. Still, the tannins taste is far too bitter for me to appreciate.

At least I have a mixing recipe for red wine to make it well worth the buck. :D

Where was I before I went on my rant on wines?

Ah yes, the almost unprecedented scale of disaster in Japan.

Along with an unprecedented scale of destruction comes along an unprecedented wave of hypocrisy.

Perhaps it's the way Japan is being ravaged: Being hit by a 9.0 magnitude earthquake, then followed by tsunamis and, as if Mother Nature was trying to put on icing on her cake, having nuclear reactors exploding, contaminating the area with radiation.

I have to admit, it's some screwed up shit. It's one of the worst, if not the worst disaster that has ever happened to a country in my 19 years of existence.

Of course, there are politic reforms, (That bastard who said it was a divine punishment ought to be confined in one of those reactors.) market crashes, humanitarian aid being restricted in some form. But I shaln't delve into those technicalities.

So, what I'm saying is, why the sudden clamour? It's not as if other countries have not been ravaged by natural disasters before.

What really depresses me is the way people react to these disasters. I see it as selective concern.

Is it really true that people only care because a certain incident affect them in some way, directly or indirectly? Or do people care because the place or person is of significance? Then does it amount to caring with hidden motives? Why is the reaction to the disaster in Japan so significantly strong - or others weak?

Yes, people love Japan for many a reason - me myself personally. They have world-class commodities, affable people (Although I really hate the way some are xenophobic.) ab-so-lute-ly fantastic food and the list can go on forever.

But does that really necessitate such a world-wide hysteria? I'd love to believe that the human nature is good at heart. I have no doubt that those who pray for Japan do it out of goodwill. Those who donate money, daily necessities, gas and resources do it out of goodwill. Then - even though I'm no economist - there's the dive of the Japanese market which sent a wave of panic across investors around the world and hence effectively restricting trading. People tend to feed chaos with chaos; politicians have long sought protectionist policies in times of crises and no doubt these policies, more often than not, lead to failure.

Of course it'll be cliched to ask this question: Why isn't there aid - aid without strings attached - for failure states?

Which inevitably lead us to the question of ethics and morals: Do we really need a reason to help others?

These questions have long been debated since the times of philosophers.

Human nature is hard to decipher and we can only now pray for a speedy recover in Japan - and I hope I won't have to consume contaminated sushi or sake. Nevertheless, I feel buoyed by the Japanese's resilience. The way they conduct themselves in times of crises is admirable. Their politeness to a point of slight irritant. There's an article on how, unlike the people of New Orleans during Hurricane Katrina, the people of Japan have seen limited, almost insignificant, numbers of looting or rioting. A nation united as one, the people striving towards a common goal.

Perhaps through this disaster, the people of Japan might just come out more resilient in the future, a stronger, hardier lot. That is, if they even come out at all. But I have my hopes high on this one.

Oh and with all the recent freakquakes, freaknamis and freakruptions, one has to wonder.

Is the world really going to end in 2012?

Apply; Applications.

2011-03-12T22:49:00.004+08:00

I think I'm the only non-retainee TPJCian to have actually been to three Soul Nights. I have to say, the atmosphere has been improving by leaps and bounds; people were moshing, girls were dancing and everyone's putting their hands in the air! Now, the only thing that still irks me as a musician is that the sound system does no justice to the performers.

Nevertheless, the crowd didn't need no good music to get them on their feet; everyone was pumping with adrenaline and it was probably the best Soul Night out of the three.

I'll just make a snide remark: The relationship between the enthusiasm and playfulness of the J1 and grades is actually inversely proportional. All the clubbers and party-goers tend to not have very good grades, no?

But I kid actually, people who know how to have fun - in considerate amounts - can be good in their studies as well.

Which leads me on nicely to the issue I want to address: university admission.

This weekend has and will see many hopeful souls thronging towards NUS and NTU. All just to go for their open houses. Me? I stayed at home on a Saturday night and I'll probably go with my friends to NUS tomorrow. After I watch United vs Arsenal.

Now, what I don't get is this: Why the need to go for open houses?

After all, if you need a last-minute open house and a few people to make you change your mind and shape your future, then your dreams and aspiration and probably not worth any penny. And for those who already knew what they want to do, why bother?

Personally, I don't find open houses very interesting bar the fact that you can go there just to, y'know, see cute girls.

Oh. And going to an open house DOES NOT equate to a guaranteed admission to said university. And I think many fall into the latter. It does help you feel better, going to the open house as if you were eligible for the university course you'd want to enter. Emotionally, people do that to reaffirm and reassure themselves.

Or do they?

I'm not one to say, my grades are definitely appalling.

Nevermind, we'll see whether I'll succeed in this junction in life or will I fail.

Society doesn't tolerate failures very much, do they?

Maybe I'll just be a hobo and live on the streets!

Like this guy.

But anyway, I realised that staying on the computer for stretched periods of time is certainly detrimental to mental sharpness. That grey matter does NOT work when you're on the computer, surfing the net. What you need to do is to use the net to your advantage; play a creative and interesting game, talk to a person, read e-books or at least do something which involves using the brain.

Because we all know that this generation which is so attached to the net is becoming dumber and dumber. (Either that or it's just the Americans.)

---

Bah. The feeling's back. That pre-A's feeling. A real bummer. Felt as though my life's got sucked out of my soul. The feeling of having an endless abyss in my heart, devoid of feelings.

Yes, it's that period of dejection, having no motivation whatsoever and rightfully, a period of serious writer's block.

So I'll just close this post for now. Rather abruptly, yes I know.

Not to mention there ain't no good writings nowadays. Because I'm too lazy. Yes, too lazy to even complete my university application forms.

Bah, I'm so freakin' useless.

Bye.

The End.

2011-03-05T00:17:00.002+08:00

I'll bet you a car that hundreds of blogs around will be filled with post-As rants/celebrations.

Of course, you'll expect Jovi not to be surrounded by hype and obviously, in all irony, type a non-As related post.

Pardon me, I have fallen short of your expectation and shall now indulge - no, not really indulge, more of escaping from my rather harsh reality and thus write a post about results.

There are many types of people around. Let's list some.

1. That obnoxious son of a bitch who goes around crying "Damn my results suck," when they get straight As and just one B.

2. People who cry over their poor results. And by poor, I mean anything that ain't an A or a B.

3. People who are either indifferent, or are just covering up their emotions pretty well.

Of course, there's always this unique bastard. And that person is me.

For me, I was feeling indifferent a few months/weeks/days ago. On that day itself, I started feeling anxious, nervous and very much uncertain. It's more of a void feeling. A feeling of emptiness, of uncertainty.

Then. Palpitations. Beads of ice-cold perspiration. Looking down-cast. Hat tilted.

My results. Definitely unworthy of someone my caliber, my intelligence.

I'll tell it straight, it's as straight as a crook. Pardon the double pun.

My H2s are straight Cs. That makes my Chemistry, Physics and Maths all Cs.

And my GP and English Lit are both As.

In a way, I'm ambivalent.

It goes to show that I'm inclined towards the Arts. More of an debater, someone who seeks knowledge, not through static means, but more dynamic, more explosive. Someone who loves an argument, as can be seen from my As. Perhaps I do have sights on the future as a writer.

Who knows?

The future's a fog of war. One that I dare not have assumptions about. Nor do I have the courage to thread fearlessly. For I have been burnt, burnt by the trial of fire. It never was a baptism; there were no Holy Spirits to guide me. For I'm God-forsaken - but God doesn't forsake, dose he?

No, I blame no God or Gods. For it is only myself I blame; the sloth. All the talent, that genius, wasted because of a feeling of void, of having no motivation.

Now, don't condescend me by pitying me. Or don't even speak to me in a condescending tone. Don't try to mask it. I told you, A for both GP and Lit. I can sense it. I can feel and smell it. Don't come talk to me and say daft things like "It's all going to be alright" and "Your results aren't bad". Because they ARE that bad. They are. It's just that those results were what one would expect of a lazy student. A self-proclaimed intelligent, but lazy student. Of which the latter would domineer, obviously.

I do have myself to blame for being rotten to the core. To make people want to pity me.

What has happened to the defiant me?

The one who perseveres, stands up against adversity, all by himself. That great granite wall that never falls. Yes, I shall be me. Even if this is a blow towards my dreams, I will, by hook or by crook, even if my straight Cs are as crooked as they are straight, then I will still go for broke.

Because that's all I can do now.

And even if - or when - the God/Gods hear my pleas, may they bless me to success.

Blessed be thy infant babe.

For no man is sinner sinned. For forsaken and disenchanted I am, I carry on. Even if the only intangible matters do carry on. My soul. My spirit.

I will never back down. I will never give up.

And with coal-burning amber red in my eyes, I shall stare into the face of those who looked down upon me. For those who I believe are looking down upon me. For I shall soar. And I'll be damned further if I don't.

Give me strength.

I. And I say I. Will go. The distance. Wherever the path may be. My mind is set. I shall persevere.

I will see this to the end.

Resonance.

2011-02-26T21:37:00.003+08:00

"Irvine... Sheffield. Truly the Devil's serpent," bellowed Iiorway the Instigator. The air was stale and humid, everyone stood around silently surrounding the Accursed. None made a noise. The conspiracy was set, everyone knew what was to come of Irvine.

The screaming silence was piercing through his ear drums. His heart thumped so hardly against his sweat-stained shirt. He couldn't look at anyone else other than Michelle, for she was the only Outsider, along with himself.

"For his sacrilegious attempts of defiling our sacred altars, the Jury has sentenced him to the harshest of punishments: a death worthy of a street mongrel, a death without honor, to die by stoning!" cried Iiorway, waving the Toma with authority and slamming it onto the ground. Bar a few smirks from the Jury, the faces in the crowd were mostly grimaces. For they knew that without Irvine and Michelle, they wouldn't have survived the Catastrophe. Without the Outsiders' intervention, they would've been massacred. There was, however, no reasons to protest, for they knew that those who go against the wishes of the Jury would be sent into exile. And the people of Pomplamoose were proud of their homes, their land.

The staggering seconds seemed to be an eternity before a deep-sounding voice broke the suffocating silence.

"Miestif, Har Iiorway. The outsider Irvine most simply had no chance but to thread upon our holy grounds. He had to save little Mempaos from the Barbarians," said an elderly man with a walking stick. His long, silvery hair which was close to touching his waist fluttered about, revealing four Bijoux hanging on a silvery sash.

---

A small except to a little inspiration I had. I realised that the writing is quite puerile, and that while I have intended for the audience to be young adults, this might actually fall into the category of kids from 12-15. I don't know. I have found it difficult to write maturely for young adults when I'm dealing with fantasy. Then again, I probably will have to refine my style and if that doesn't work, make a change in themes - darker, bittersweet ones - which will probably make it more 'seinen'.

Nevertheless, writing that excerpt has been fun. Well, while it lasted, of course. Heavily influenced by that book I've read - what's its name again?

Ah, anyway, these few days have been hectic. Falling sick and results and army and stuff.

Well, I'm as sure as sure that I'm going to join DigiPen. Whether they allow me in or not, I do not know.

For the curious:

H2 Chemistry, H2 Maths, H2 Physics are all straight Cs.

H1 GP and H1 English Lit are all straight As.

H1 PW and H1 Chinese are all straight Bs.

If I'm not wrong, that yields 72.5 rank points.

Of course, you'd say these grades are OKAY for someone who doesn't study much. But to tell you the truth, I'll be lying if I wasn't expected at LEAST BBB/CC.

Y'know, on hindsight, I'll probably get straight As if I studied hard enough. Or if I put in sufficient effort.

As usual, I'm left to regret - just like PSLE/O Levels - for not putting in enough effort into studies.

I just pray that DigiPen accepts me.

Okay, that'll be all for now; a short update.

Oh and I haven't signed up for driving courses yet. Bloody hell.

Until the next post!

101 Questions.

2011-02-23T11:29:00.002+08:00

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Blue Berry Morning cereals + Wasabi chips + Polar Puff stuff.

2. Where was your profile picture taken?
AFA2010 if I remembered correctly.

3. Can you play Guitar Hero?
Of course, I'm a Guitar Hero!

4. Name someone who made you laugh today?
No one. I'm alone at home after taking MC.

5. How late did you stay up last night and why?
Twelve plus. Playing DotA with Yon and Ryan and Vernon.

6. If you could move somewhere else, would you?
It depends.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Cliche, no.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you?
Either Hong Wei or Clement. Both are just one street away from me.

9. Do you believe exes can be friends?
It really depends on the manner of break-up.

10. How do you feel about Dr. Pepper?
Never tried.

11. When was the last time you cried really hard?
Cried? What cry?

12. Who took your profile picture?
I forgot, but it should be those I went out with.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
I never take pictures of people, I think.

14. Was yesterday better than today?
Yesterday = in camp. Today = MC.

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Been there, done that.

16. Are you upset about anything?
Plenty, but we must move along, no?

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Yes, they always enrich you one way or the other. Be it a bad or a good one.

18. Are you a bad influence?
What are your definitions of 'bad'?

19. Night out or night in?
BOTH. YEAHHHHHHH.

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
My handphone, my wallet and my watch. Three essential things I go out with.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
I really forgot.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?

AWOL? LOL! :D

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
Join the army, they said. It's a man's life, they said.

24. Do you hate anyone?
Hate is too strong a word, dislike, perhaps. But I never hold Grudges.

25. If we were to look in your facebook inbox, what would we find?
HAHAHA BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE FACEBOOK, LOSERS! (I'm keeping this to show the world that I do have friends who refuse and have continued to refuse Facebook.)

Well, my messages?

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
I'd probably be tested positive for imsoawesomexilius.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Well, people called me a nobody. Since nobody is perfect, then yes, people have called me perfect before. QED.

28. What song is stuck in your head?
All the 98.7 FM songs because I HEARD IT 24/7 IN ARMY IN THE OFFICE 'COS OF THE CONFOUNDED RADIO.

29. Someone knocks on your door at 2:00am, who do you want it to be?
Some really cute girl.

30. Wanna have grandkids by the time you're 50?
One step at a time, laddie!

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow.
Book in.

32. Do you think too much or too little?
Way way way way way too much.

33. Do you smile a lot?
I don't.

~~~

1. What curse swear word do you use the most?
To tell you the truth, I don't swear. Meaning, not using a swear word with its intended meaning, but more towards replacing the word 'very'. Of course, I don't swear at all, depending on my audience...

2. Do you own an iPod?
An iPod Touch. But that's all. I think this Apple hullaballoo is overrated.

3. What person on your flist do you talk to the most?
I'm forever alone. )':

4. What time is your alarm clock set to?
5:45am.

5. Do you still remember the first person you kissed?
Yes.

6. Do you remember where you were on 9/11/01?
What's on 9/11/01?

7. Would you rather take the picture or be in the picture?
Take, definitely.

8. What was the last film you watched?
I'm not sure, I've marathoned a pretty long list of films.

9. Do any of your friends have children?
Yes, they do!

10. Has anyone ever called you lazy?
EVERYONE.

11. Do you ever take medication to help you fall asleep?
No; does red wine count? Or alcohol, for that matter. But no, I assure you, I don't have much problems sleeping, nor am I depressed or an alcoholic. I just think too much at times.

12. What CD is currently in your CD player?
CD player? We're in 2011.

13. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk?
Both. Loved chocolate milk and hated regular milk but had to take regular milk 'cos they said it builds bones/muscles/makes you grow taller.

14. Has anyone told you a secret this week?
No. No one tells me anything.

15. When was the last time you had Starbucks?
Just a few days ago.

16. Can you whistle?
Like the Wild West, baby!

17. What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
The wholesome look.

18. What are you looking forward to?
ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD ORD. ORD .

19. Did you watch cartoons as a child?
Yup.

20. Do you own any band t-shirts?
DragonForce and Deep Purple. Going to add to that collection lots more but apparently Iron Maiden shirts are over-priced. (And I forgot to ask Jon to get one for me.)

21. What will you be doing in one hour?
Eating my lunch.

22. Is anyone in love with you?
Har har har I'm in love with myself. (This is my friend's response and I'm keeping it to show that OTHER than myself, there ARE narcissistic people out there as well!)

23. What was the last song you heard?
Chopin Etude op.10-1.

24. When was the last time you cried?
Cry? What cry?

25. Are you on a desktop computer or a laptop?
Desktop.

26. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos?
Not at all. I hate needles.

27. What’s the weather like?
Extremely hot and extremely cold. Desert.

28. Would you ever date a girl/guy covered in tattoos?
A girl COVERED in tattoos is just unsightly. So, no. And yes, the key word is COVERED.

29. What did you do before this?
Polyclinic to get MC.

30. When is the last time you slept on the floor?
Probably during some sleepover.

31. How many hours of sleep do you need to function?
As much as I need to get out of bed without snoozing/groaning/bitching.

32. Do you eat breakfast daily?
If I've got the time, I'd love an English breakfast.

33. Are your days fast-paced?
When I'm on the PC, yes. When I'm in camp, no.

34. What did you do last night?
Jovi, I said to myself, since I'm going to get a MC tomorrow, might as well play DotA with Jon. But most of the time, I read my novels. YES, NOW I DO READ BOOKS.

35. Do you use sarcasm?
No? >:D

36. How old will you be turning on your next birthday?
19. One more year to reach the dreaded 2.

37. Are you picky about spelling and grammar?
I'm a Grammar and Spelling Nazi. Look out for my caps and punctuations.

38. Have you ever been to Six Flags?
Six - what?

39. Do you get along better with the same sex or the opposite sex?
Opposite sex. I think guys are bastards.

40. Do you like mustard?
Used to dislike them. But never too much please.

41. Do you sleep on your side?
Yes, often with undesirable cramps in the morning.

42. Do you watch the news?
Of course.

43. How did you get one of your scars?
Someone ran across my knee with the ice-blades.

44. Who was the last person to make you mad?
Ehh, people who irritate me. People who are slow. I don't know, I'm too busy to get mad these days.

45. Do you like anybody?
I like everybody!

46. What is the last thing you purchased?
Drugs. But then, it's not paid by me, so yeah.

47. What side of the heart do you draw first?
Left.

48. Can you dive without plugging your nose?
I can't even swim!

49. What colour is your razor?
Orange and white?

50. What is your blood-type?
Let me check my 11-B. B+.

51. Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours?
Literally tied to? No one.

52. What is a rumour someone has spread about you?
I'm gay. Or bi.

53. How do you feel about carrots?
Disgusting. But good for your eyes.

54. How many chairs at the dining room table?
It depends on how many people are there.

55. Which is the best Spice Girl?
Not into Pop.

56. Do you know what time it is?
11:52am.

57. Do you know all the words to the Fresh Prince theme song?
Lol, what the heck's that?

58. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator?
Press that button that I've been dying to press for years and wait for help.

59. What’s your favourite kind of gum?
Spearmint is fantastic.

60. T or F: All’s fair in love and war?
WAIT. This reminded me of Judith's LJ. Realistically, yes. Idealistically, no.

61. Do you have a crush on anyone?
Crushes are fake and gay.

62. Do you know how to use some words correctly, but not know the meaning?
We all do.

63. Do you like to sleep?
Definitely!

64. Do you know which US states don’t use Daylight Savings Time?
I'm ignorant about that. Time is subjective, so yeah.

65. Do you know the song “Total Eclipse of the Heart”?
Nope.

66. Do you want a bright yellow ’06 Mustang?
Never really much interested in cars.

67. What’s something you’ve always wanted?
EVERYTHING ROARS.

68. Do you have hairy LEGS?
Yup, I do.

69. Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake?
I can't swim.

70. Do you wear a lot of black?
Yes, it's the easier colour to combine.

71. Describe your hair:
What hair?

72. Do you have entomophobia?
I'll google that. AND OMG YES. DEFINITELY YES.

73. Are you an adult?
Legally, no. Mentally, yes.

74. Where is/are your best friend(s)?
The world's my friend!

75. Do you have a tan?
I think so, from walking in camp daily.

76. Are you a television addict?
Football, only.

77. Do you enjoy spending time with your mother?
Do we even spend time? This is a quixotic question.

78. Are you a sugar freak?
I love to get high!

79. Do you like orange juice?
Not really, unless it's with vodka.

80. What sign are you?
GEMINI. Ignore that 13th attention-seeker. GET IT AWAY. I want my GEMINI.

---

Yes, I'm on MC. I have some spare time, I'll do a meme. Yes, stolen from my friend's blog without permission again. Because when I said hi, she gave me a terse 'later'.

Anyway! Doctors are really stingy with MCs when you're in the army. ):

Nothing much doin', see y'all later!

Sleep Writing.

2011-02-14T23:23:00.001+08:00

Would anyone here be surprised if I told you that I have never read a full-length book on my own free-will before? That is, fully finished reading and enjoying a book and under no conditions; these include studying my Literature texts.

I've always claimed to be a writer, but how can a writer truly exist in a lone island? No man's an island and even more so for writers.
Like all artists, plagiarizing is the best form of compliment and through reading others' pieces of works, we, as writers, absorb their ideas and generate our own. We gently skim through their style like the graceful movements of dragonflies on water. I know I've emphasized this enough, but individual instances of genius are hard to come by and most often than not, an artist needs to slog hard enough to actually create a masterpiece.

A quote comes to mind: My father just does it so fast that on the outside, it looks magical. Or something like that.

As a writer, I must admit that I have refused to come to this understanding: that no piece of story, no matter how long or short, can be conjured up in one writing. More often than not, authors have to slog through drafts after drafts, rejections after rejections, just to present the public with one work of art. The culmination of ideas, where day and night are blended together, is what brings out the life of a story.I'm just a sloth. After reading through Stealing Death - my first proper book - and subsequently checking out the author's website, (www.janetleecarey.com) I've come to realise that to write is actually to stick with your writing. Doesn't matter if it's unpolished, rough and even ugly. A writer has to stick with his or her writing and not give up.
A stall in the creative department is unforeseen and it's also pretty darn frequent; I'm sure no author will contest with that. What separates an amateur and a professional writer, in my opinion, is that the pro has the experience and will to actually follow through the draft with the bad stuff while most of us idealistic young 'urns expect a our first, virgin draft to be a masterpiece.

Obviously the latter is impossible.

For me now, overcoming this barren piece of land is becoming easier. It's just like facing your fears; it gets some getting used to, then you'll be fine afterward. Of course, a tip I've learnt is that you have to re-read the previous few chapters or paragraphs before you continue writing to go along with the flow of the story, to get inside the skin of the characters.

Seems like common sense now that I think about it, but in actuality, it's difficult to process such thoughts when the frustration and irritation mounts when one stumbles on a block.
In order for me to be more acquainted with my enemy - 知己知彼，百战百胜 - I've actually left this post alone for a few minutes in between my Internet surfing. And to my surprise, I've actually had the motivation and energy to continue writing despite having my attention channeled away for considerable moments. Nevertheless, I still strongly believe in writing your ideas immediately for they can escape in a matter of hours, even minutes sometimes.

The idea of writing immediately after one sleeps (the whole discussion on REM sleep, OOB experiences and sleep-related spirituality thing is over and done with.) is an interesting one because I've had this feeling before. A sense of purpose when you wake up and you just feel that you have to pen something down. The tug of the idea is more mystical than the one you'd get if you randomly have an idea. Perhaps it's to do with the dreamy state, or, if you believe, your mind going into an extended reality during sleep.

Anyway, I have to get to Boon Lay Secondary tomorrow at 6.30am. For some Total Defense event. And no, confound it, we don't have a half-day off.

So I'll be off to sleep now. Perhaps more ideas will come by me tomorrow.

Until then, keep on dreamin'!

Flow.

2011-02-09T20:40:00.002+08:00

Inside. Outside.

What a difference a few alphabets make. Heck, it is one helluva difference. Separates you from the men and the boys, the trapped and the free - military from civilian.

As I look around me, I noticed a form of rigidity, regimentation. My guess, albeit a blind one, is that being in Pes E is better than Pes A; although the allure of going to war, shooting, fighting - acts of survival - does not escape me. No, I've not fallen to the old lie: dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. Honour and glory are what I fight for, not loyalty and patriotism even if the lines are not as clearly defined at times.

That said, having a camp an hour's way from home isn't the worst thing that can happen to me -though not necessarily the best too. There are many things I would say, but these must be reserved for evening banters with close friends. They walls have ears, they said. Well, join the army they said. It's a man's life, they said as well.

I cannot comprehend the magnitude of the plans a supposed greater entity has for me nor can I escape from the labyrinth that is Fate's palm. It will be outrageous to call it poetic justice - or misery, which you prefer. Nor have I experienced enough to call my time in NS as being cathartic. Well, it has only been three days. Facades are not broken in a few days' time and personalities do not show during times of peace. Nevertheless, I'm hoping for an uneventful, fulfilling and - pardon me for being greedy - memorable time here.

That said, being in Pes E should've been the lesser of two evils and I hope it remains that way. I won't be shy and say that I have ambitions for my camp. Whatever plans and provisions I have will be kept private, or at least not divulged online.

Now, many a time I have championed creative writing but me being the lazy procrastinator (see the paradox?) I have failed to write - and I mean to manually write - out an essay out of free-will. There's always a first time and perhaps absolute boredom is my only impetus in doing so and suddenly, I have already filled up two pristine blank pages with a steady stream of blue ink; words half cursive, half straight, perhaps a manifestation of my horoscope: the Gemini.

But no. They just have to include a weird 13th one.

Oh and on a side-note, I coined two terms: absolute and relative boredom. The latter one is the one most people are afflicted with - doing nothing because of one's lack of will. The former is my case: forced to do nothing due to circumstances. I may be bitching about the degrees of freedom but freedom is definitely something I sorely miss.

Anyway, back to writing. I must say I am delighted to have brought a pen and a book along with me to camp. Ideas and thoughts never cease to strike me at the most unconventional of times. This post surely must be a serendipitous discovery. Nevertheless, my writing style may have changed subtly. Writing a la journals may have a more informal and personal tone as compared to other styles of writing. And I'm proud to say I know why.

Journal writing sometimes starts off with an idea, a thought, an observation or even a question. Or a mix, perhaps. But what happens during writing is fantastic: more ideas are flowing in, the plot thickens, the story expands, characters are constantly being developed; most as if the slush gates of ideas have been opened by a lever and the writer is constantly being bombarded by ideas. Or it can be me feeling the novelty of writing a journal entry. But for me, this is wonderful. Absolutely fantastic. It's as if a huge burden has been lifted off my shoulders, my indefinite writer's block has been removed and I am reunified with my melancholic and poetic self.

The rush of adrenaline a writer gets when he or she receives a stream of wonderful inspiration or ideas if an acquired taste. It's different from the sort of rush one gets after drinking. After knowing you scored full marks for a test. The sense of joy is on another level: one that is subtle yet stimulating, distant yet close to heart.

And there I have, after 45 minutes of writing, 4 pages full of thoughts. I dearly hope that you guys will be inspired after reading this because I never was a believer of the way of "trying-til-you-get-it-right". Not saying I am, but it never hurts to try, to try something new. Who knows, you may be like me, reaping the benefits by stepping out of your comfort zone? And for Pete's sake. Start moving, stop being lazy.

For the length of this post, I have thoroughly enjoyed myself, just like how I enjoy writing my other fantastic posts. For a fleeting moment, my soul has escaped from the physical confines of these metal gates and thus, I am grateful and can now truly say:

There and back again.

PS. Re-typing 4 pages worth of text isn't really inspiring or fun. It's hella boring.

PSS. Going to find some pictures, hoping you all will read through this post 'cos it's really wonderful. Or at least I think it is.

Lotus Eaters.

2011-02-06T22:58:00.002+08:00

Sometimes, you don't have look far and wide for inspiration. The source of frustration may sometimes be the source of inspiration. The epitome of perfection; or rather, perfectionist's perfection. For today, I could truly feel inspired by myself. Now, before all of you come and slate that I'm a narcissist, I'll elaborate.

Just look into the mirror. Take a cold hard stare at yourself.

Most of the time - at least for us perfectionists - we often feel that we're inferior. That the person who said you're 'good', 'pretty', 'fantastic' or that you 'sing well', 'play well', is often just a condescending bastard or is just indifferent and only accommodating you.

Yes, then those times, we are not really convinced that we are good.

For example, I've never thought of myself as a good guitarist; just a below-average guitarist who doesn't know nuts about music theory. Which is true, if you look hard enough for your everyday garage band guitarists who can shred a riff or play a ballad.

But today, even though I'm just an average guitarist, I feel empowered. Because of my ability to inspire. For my music is able to motivate a person to pick up her guitar and start playing/singing. More often than not, this is the true motivation behind musicians. Not for fame, not for money - although these are good-to-haves as well.

Like I said before, most of the time, we do feel like we're not up there, not the best.

The reason I personally feel as such is because of me aiming for perfection. I guess it's kinda double-edged. On one hand, it spurs you on to greater heights while on the other, it can sort of depress you. Like when I hear the fantastic Los Angeles Guitar Quarter (LAGQ) play, I try my best to emulate their sound. That's what musicians do: we emulate others, then from there, we improvise and add our own unique style. It's just like they say, copying is the best form of flattery.

However, there are times when, as a perfectionist, I try to aim too high. I look at guitarists like Michael Angelo Batio and Yngwie Malmsteen. The ultra-fast shredding and sweeping which is so darn clean. Steve Morse's versatility. Paul Gilbert's wonderful tone and licks. The list goes on. I sometimes feel depressed and get frustrated that I myself as a guitarist find it extremely difficult to reach the levels of the great.

So, sometimes you just feel like giving up or you hypnotize yourself, claiming that you ain't good at all. Of course, not good compared to the Gods. But then comes that little boy Sungha Jung or something like that. Yes, those are the select few geniuses - true geniuses - who are really talented. It's just something you have or you don't. Simple as that. Life's like that; whoever claimed that God created humans fair and equal must be smoking some real crack. (No offense to Christians, I just couldn't resist.)

Anyway, here's a video of my covering LAGQ's Lotus Eaters. The semiquaver just before the triplets are off tempo 'cos I was following Guitar 1's rhythm. Thanks to Angelyn for pointing that out but since I'm so lazy and the video is actually a one-take, I'll just let that off and hope no one realizes the mistakes. Anyway, that's my interpretation of the song, so there!

So there we go. I've finally recorded my playing. This is one song that I'd love to do for the competitions and SYF. Granted, the rhythm of the song is quite hard to catch and of course, some parts are really technical. But I have to say, this is pretty much the easiest song that is composed by Andrew York. Check LAGQ out, they're a magnificent bunch o' gentlemen.

Oh. For those who don't know about my NS Life - ain't that an oxymoron? - I'm actually posted to Selarang Camp near Pasir Ris/Changi. And since it's a 9th Division Army Maintenance Base (9 AMB), I'm CROSSING my fingers that I get to come out because MOST Army camps ar stay-in camps.

And I have to wake up at 5.30am tomorrow. I still have to do household chores. I'll probably get 2-3 hours of sleep again. ):

I just had a debate with a friend about relationships and thus, I've actually forgotten what I wanted to write. I actually had an inspiration to write while eating Filet-o-Fish at night! Hah. Yes, since my mother and maid have both gone to Malaysia, I've been living on hawker food and MacDonalds.

And I HAVEN'T BEEN WORKING OUT. Damnit. I'll bring my weights to camp tomorrow.

Okay. I'm going to sign off now; sooo many chores to do. Goodnights all!

Queer Observation.

2011-01-27T21:39:00.003+08:00

Few days ago, we were supposed to come up with a song for our POC. And so it went that I suggested we play the guitar.

Lo and behold, the guitar maestro - obviously not me.

This guy who has 7-8 guitars. Of course, he brought with him his lousiest, cheapest guitar. A Taylor acoustic. which costs $3000. The prices of his other guitars? Ranging around 4-6k.

Now, he is a really nice person who plays at a Christian church and I really don't have qualms about him having expensive guitars. What bothered me a lot is that fact that money can buy you success. That's just the way our society run: you're either damn good at something, or you are filthy rich. Or perhaps you're just pretty good-looking as compared to weak, sickly and skinny yellow Asian men. I'll elaborate more on the latter.

I'm not saying that said platoon mate 'bought' his guitar skills - he worked hard for 5 years and thus, it's justifiable that he buys a really good guitar to make beautiful music. What irks me is that for myself, I cannot afford a good guitar. When I played the $3k acoustic, it really sounded amazing. It has AUTO-REVERB in a friggin' acoustic. The sustain is crystal clear. Even the gauge of the guitar strings is fantastic. Mahogany wood with cedar top (If I remembered correctly) makes the whole guitar look beautiful. Oh and it has really nice fretboard designs.

Call me the green-eyed devil, but I still cannot come to terms that a person's circumstance will undeniably affect a person's destiny.

Like another guy I know. He's 23 this year and had 5 years of bar-tending experience. He was working on getting a degree in NAFA (drawing, I guess) and he's a really nice person who has the street-smarts. Ignore the fact that he's a smoker and I think he makes a good friend. Now, what made him drop out of NAFA - short of a degree - is the fact that his family couldn't support his studies. Of course, there may be deeper reasons as to why he couldn't get into a Poly/JC or that he's lazy, but I can feel that this person is pretty talented.

Hence, the unfair world: money, looks and talent. Come to think of it, the latter's not really acquirable. You have it or you don't.

Money. A basic necessity in life.

Which comes from your parents. And whether they're highly educated or not. And in turn, your parents, if they are highly educated, will surely plan out the best route in life in which you shall take. Thus, having a rather conformed, but smooth-flowing childhood. I really do admire kids whose parents pain-painstakingly plan their youthful years. It's really like playing an MMORPG.

The players (parents) are the ones who raise the stats and skills of their character (the kids). Sometimes, you make a wrong move and thus have to take a detour in life. Even worse, one cannot simply just reset the skills invested. Educated parents are like those geeks who study the game mechanics (life) and how each skills work and how the stats affect the future. Then they start to craft the perfect character.

Just imagine the differences.

Innately, we all can agree that life is unfair. Because it is. We're all born with different dispositions, different talents, different background. That's the reason why the world is unfair.

Just to rant a bit: the reason why people are emo and need to watch Shounen anime like Naruto. Things which they can 'relate' to. Notice how Shounen characters are really general waste of space at the starting? Yeah.

Remember me talking about looks?

Girls really have no one else to blame if they go for hot guys. 'Cos after analyzing 2 players in my platoon, I realise a similarity. One's from RJ, the other's from PJ if I'm not wrong. Both are rather good looking as well. What confounds me is their lack of remorse after playing with the feelings of another girl. Almost as if their girlfriends want to be played.

Me?

I can never do that. My conscience is far too clear. It haunts me.

But what am I ranting on about? The fact that they can attract girls is enough reason for them to play around, isn't it? Well, people like us can only keep wondering why most good looking guys are generally ass-hats.

I'm really glad I became a monk.

Oh and I just watched Dead Fantasy again. Here's the link to the film maker's channel. It's really awesome, definitely worth the hour of your life.

Link: http://www.youtube.com/user/montyoum (Copy and paste it)

I'll go now. Thank God it's Friday tomorrow. BOOK OUT!

:D

2011-01-23T22:25:00.000+08:00

She's such a sweet-lookin' girl, I want to make her mine.

Exposure.

2011-01-20T21:11:00.001+08:00

Sometimes all we need to do is to escape from the confines of comfort. To be the lone marauding wolf in snow, eagle-eyed and quick to pounce, in search for prey. The lightning-fast reflexes and agility in which a wolf catches its prey is breath-taking. Heartless, swift and decisive. Hey, isn't that SAF's motto?

It's quite true when I've brought up that being brought down to earth is a good way to trigger one's creativity. Seems like my theory isn't too far-fetched. When one experiences a strong emotion, no matter how negative or positive, then one's creativity gets animated from the deep recesses of our infinitely profound minds. Thus, the stereotype that depicts geniuses, mathematicians, artists and the like in different variations of madness is really not unfounded. Of course, most stereotype occur due to the very fact that there is enough occurrences to make an observation a stereotype! Therefore, I am now subscribing to the notion that an emotional trigger is indeed effective in bringing out one's creativity.

Were you convinced? If not, try writing, or making music, the next time you get an emotional trigger. That can be anything. From being incredibly upset or depressed, to being jubilant or whatever. Of course, the best triggers are those that don't come everyday or easily; the sudden shock or a revelation, perhaps? Or an unexpected change in behaviour? Something along those lines. These events often determine our emotions and thus, the quirkier the trigger, the more we're pulled out of our comfort zone and the more our infinitely smart minds are forced to think of solutions, of outlets to vent our emotions.

Nevertheless, inspiration still plays hard to get and usually the smell of her would just waft through me, yet never actually capturing the essence of beauty.

Have I mentioned that I'm actually very interested in learning the art of photography?

One quick snap is all it takes to capture the stunning beauty - a fleeting, momentary art - of a moment's worth. A picture speaks a thousand words and in every picture, tells a story, a different kind of story. And for every story, lies an inspiration. Just as the beauty in silence, there is much to admire and appreciate in still motion; every colour a calculated tint, every angle a pre-determined shot. There is indeed much to appreciate in still motion. Capturing the essence of a single moment, yet telling the story of a life time.

Just like how the colours bleed, a picture, too, can bleed raw emotions and feeling, while telling its own tale.

Frankly speaking, I don't mind taking up photography, ergo, I must find one who is willing to teach me and not be too expensive. That one time Lin Shan loaned him his DSLR, I had like immense fun playing with, messin' with the zoom and stuff. But now that I've been exposed to more 'terms' and usage, I'm really interested and fascinated by the many purposes of a DSLR. Like how long light exposures can create wonderful photos or how lens can really affect the outcome of a photo.

Of course, studying a picture is fun as well; like I said before, the many stories that can be interpreted or told can be fun. Of course, a photo must be well-taken and not be just any mediocrity.

Well, enough banter about photography or creativity. Because, well, I'm really tired and am prepared to sleep. For I have another weekend in sight!

Let's end off this post with a simple, terse quote from me.

"Dare to be."

Shimmerstar.

2011-01-19T21:07:00.002+08:00

Finally did something which is interesting and worthwhile in my camp.

CPR and AED training. For those who don't know, CPR stands for cardiopulmonary resuscitation and AED stands for automated external defibrillator.

Yes! For all the gamers out there, think Über charge. Or L4D2's Defib. Or Battlefield's Defib. Except this one is the miniature version, having to tape the wires instead of those handle-like thingys.

But I have my reservations. Like all typical Singaporeans who are "kiasi and kiasu", I won't risk my own personal hygiene, safety, minimal exposure, just to save a life.

Face it.

How many of you will really rush forward to offer your CPR services to a complete stranger who has just collapsed on the road?

Likewise, I will not volunteer my services unless it's a friend or a relative.

Meaning, someone I want to save.

Unless said person who collapsed is a really cute girl, then of course, I'll be RUSHING to resuscitate her.

That's from book in 'til 12 noon. After that was lunch, which wasn't really good.

After lunch, we watched Forrest Gump.

To be honest, I think that FG (Forrest Gump) is a totally bullshit feel-good movie for losers.

Is it so miraculous that Forrest is able to miraculously straighten his spine just 'cos he was running away from bullies? Or that his boat is the only thing that survived a storm which wiped out EVERY OTHER THING ELSE? Or that he is able to play ping-pong at the speed of light? Or that he can evade every single artillery shell fired? And the list goes on.

Of course, fate is a central theme around this dramedy (comedy-drama) film and there really are some techniques used which are worthy of discussion.

For someone who feels that fate is a total nonsense, then this film is probably bullshit. Because the realism of this movie is approaching zilch. What helped the movie propel the theme of fate is probably Mrs. Gump. The way she had to use her body to get Forrest a school is really sad. Of course, like all stereotypical loser-turned-hero films, there is a twist in the story where the hero suddenly gets wings and in Forrest's case, he has an ability to run so damn friggin' fast, play ping-pong so friggin' well, and a tendency to avoid disaster and/or death.

The feather can be read as an extended symbol for fate, or for the fleeting nature of fate and how it can subtly, slowly play itself into our lives and how much we are affected by fate.

Of course, depending on how one reads the film, the feather can also stand for how unreal the film is; just like how the feather, from a physically impossible position, be flown, almost uncannily, into the feet of Forrest at the start of the film. If one takes it as providence, as fate, then it all makes sense as well. Furthermore, the usage of flashback in this film is pretty well done. The transition between the narrative flashback and the present is pretty seamless.

But I just can't stand feel-good films. There are two kinds of feel-good films. Master pieces like Good Will Hunting, or above average sorts like FG. I really appreciated GWH, it's really a wonderful story for those who have yet to watch it.

That's all, I don't want to and I doubt I can write a full-length essay critiquing FG. Anyways, have to sleep early and wake up at 5:50am tomorrow. We've planned this for the past 4 days but THIS TIME.

THIS TIME.

We will arrive earlier and can finally, triumphantly, eat our BIG BREAKFAST MEAL.

Bikachu.

2011-01-18T20:20:00.002+08:00

First week and two days into PES E BMT at Kranji Camp III.

It's been a while, my dear readers. I must be lying if I say I am not pleased to see my blog counter still jumping even when I'm in camp. However, I implore my readers to at least tag their after-thoughts after reading a newly written post because: (1) It sort of weeds out the spam that's in my tag box and (2) gives me motivation to continue writing quality posts.

You all probably don't want to hear long stories of my short stay as a PES E recruit in my camp, so I'll just summarise what I've done for the past week in point form.

1. Army = Reverse harem. There's this fair-skinned Malay officer whose face is, arguably, remotely similar to Aaralyn's. Then there's this hunky officer from CJ who is thoroughly ripped. Our Captain is really a charismatic guy; a person who effectively, economically and sparingly uses swear words to maximum effect. Not only that, but he is so buff that he breaks a mike when he uses one, thus his reliance on his voice rather than technology.

I've saved the best for the last though. My platoon officer is this really cute person with boyish looks.

And no, going to army has not made me gay, but I've realised that officers are, most of the time, very good-looking. Sadly, attempts to look them up on Facebook seemed to have failed.

2. What we do in PES E BMT. We do literally nothing.

The most strenuous exercise is probably the foot drills. And by foot drills, I do not mean marching. I mean WALKING in step. Then there are long periods of 'talk cock' sessions for the sole purpose of passing time and then the lectures in the auditoriums about military stuff.

What PES E BMT is really useful for: training of patience.

Because you'll be absolutely mind-screwed when you go in and sit there and do nothing for a good 12 hours. Then go sleep. Then go back to camp and do nothing for another 12 hours. It's literally wasting your life away.

3. Made some friends of course. Bar the odd idiot or two, my platoon has been, so far, relatively normal. Hopefully things remain normal and that I can smoothly sail through BMT and subsequently, two years of my NS life.

---

Now, what I really worry about is my A Level results.

I have not forgotten what I truly - so far - wanted to do. That is game designing.

If I do not score a minimum of B in both Maths and Physics, I'd have to consider appealing or retaking my A's. I also do know that if I do retake my A's, I'll have to do them THIS year or I'll have to retake my SPAs. Which is a ROYAL pain in the arse.

I'm praying for good results to pull me through my university. I truly am praying.

Other than my results, and my phobia of NS, life has been pretty mundane. I miss my civilian life SO much, even though I can book out. Once one loses this freedom, that is our civilian life, then one begins to experience and value freedom and time. Entering NS has indeed been a cathartic experience. Fernandez would be so friggin' proud of me right now - if only I had used that term during my examinations.

By the way, just did a routine exercise while head-banging - albeit without hair - to heavy/power metal and classical music. I swear the army must let the troops listen to some epic power metal before going out to war.

Did I mention my love for exercises grew by 189.24%?

The reason is simple. I'm so bloody damned bored in camp.

Alright, I'll end this short post because I really have nothing insightful to write about. Such a pathetic state I am in. It's really true that artists - musicians, poets, writers, creators of art - create really beautiful art when they're depressed. It is VERY true. Somehow, depression drives the creativity of the person to the peak and this in turn allows very smooth, powerful writing.

Be warned though, too much depression is no good. Don't be the next poet to gas him or herself in the oven.

Before I go! I have a few requests. Anyone interested in going out in the weekends to do sports/jogging? I seriously need to engage in some sports or my ADHD will come back. HAHA.

Or at least hang out with me before my social life wilts away. Or jam. Or eat. Or just sit and talk or something. God save this accursed soul bearing the burden of boredom.

And that is a fine example of the deep, thudding alliteration of the letter 'B'.

Gun's Smoke.

2011-01-11T01:39:00.002+08:00

It's 1:40am, slight drizzle as I stayed awake to type you guys this small paragraph.

Approximately 8 (I didn't bother counting) hours 'til enlistment, and I'll be damned if I don't get sleep soon; will be a walking zombie in headquarters.

Supposedly, my creative juices should be running when it rains. Supposedly, I can write paragraphs of beautiful prose, sprinkled with innovative ideas that can make tomorrow's world a better place. Supposedly, I'm going to be, well, going all out in life.

As we all know, life isn't always smooth-flowing.

I have contemplated the idea of taking A Levels as a private candidate SHOULD I NOT BE ELIGIBLE for that degree in game design from Digipen. Wait, I meant RE-taking A Levels.

Cor blimey, after seeing some reactions from people taking O's, I have a slightly ominous feeling that I won't be too jubilant seeing my results. Of course, I have to remain optimistic. More of a realist's way of being optimistic: hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.

Suddenly, Deep Purple's Sometimes I Feel Like Screaming pops to mind.

"The best laid plans come apart at the seams and shatter all my dreams."

Deep Purple is pure class.

---

Y'know, I think I should start to be more economical in my paragraph usage. Seems to me like the paragraphs are often too disjointed; having single paragraphs is a good way of getting a salient point across, but having too much of everything makes it just blend. Like what they say: too many a step-overs and you might as well opt for a crisp and plain cross.

2:14am.

It almost feels like I am doing to die. The sort of 'flashback' and your entire life playing back in HIGH-DEFINITION BLUE RAY GREEN TOOTH PURPLE DINOSAUR. For the entire 2 hours which I spent rolling on the bed, things came to mind.

First, it was jabbing and wrestling. Seems like Clement kinda influenced me. I started to throw jabs in the air and, y'know, wrestled with my bolster. Like a kid.

Then I remembered watching online videos and movie trailers and Mortal Kombat, Bite Me and Human Centipede came to mind. The latter is just screwed up and the director ought to be shot, stripped and beaten to death by a disease-infected sewage rat.

And the rant about HD? I think High-Definition is something really fantastic. Been out with Thug and Clement at Parkway's Jack's Place and then we saw this supercalifra - okay, this massively awesome TV which is like as big as ... I 'unno, not good with measurements.

But hell, it's one hell of a TV. It has HD AND 3D.

Watching Avatar through the 3D glasses is just mind-blowing. Of course, the price is one hefty $7000. Seven. Friggin'. Thousand. For a TV.

I'd imagine watching good ol' football while in HD. Been my dream, y'know. Screw those laggy and lousy quality streams. One reason I downloaded anime last time is that I hated the quality found on streams. Downloading them in good quality justifies the time. And also the risk. Read: Odexgate.

Man, I'm starting to run out of ideas. Perhaps I'll write more when I book out from my first day at NS?

2:31am.

Feels as if I'm counting down. Not to something specific, it's almost as if there's an ethereal, fantastical feeling right now. I'm hoping for something which isn't there. Feels... as if a peculiar situation will happen. This is bad, reminds me too much of the Glass Menagerie. Hoping that Jim is something that will never be; the gentleman caller that is never meant to be.

Yeah, if by some unexplainable phenomenon, I'll be glad if time suddenly stops. Things are happening too quickly for my liking.

Turn the tables.

I'm actually too slow for time. It's a race against time and I'm slacking off. I have to shift my gear, or I'll be in deep trouble. A stagnating constant does not bode well for me. In a dynamic world, change is omnipresent and any catalyst of change is welcomed while those who resist the attrition of change will only be grounded to failure.

But do remember. The attrition of time will not, for even the longest eternity, erode away the class that a person have.

Well I'm speaking incoherently now.

2:37am.

Guess time to frolick around in bed. Hopefully I'll get to sleep before 3am. Then I'll have a couple of hours of rest, get down to work and then try to wriggle - or keng, they'd like to say - out of my 2 by 4 situation.

Good morning, good sir and ma'am.

Rat's Arse.

2011-01-08T02:19:00.002+08:00

They say keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

Instead of blindly agreeing with this 'witty' saying, I'd say I adopt a different stance on this matter; I keep my enemies far but my friends further.

Now, they may essentially mean the same thing, but I believe that the perspective of distance in both is very different.

Well, I really like this model because that's the way I make friends. By making them your enemy first, before finding a turning point and then from an enemy, make a true friend. It's a rather 'defensive' form of making friends and many may frown upon my social skills - or lack of. But if you consider the fact that a friend, untried and untested, may actually turn upon you and stab you in the back, then you may reconsider the way you make friends.

Of course, I'm not saying that every friend needs to be baptized by fire, but generally and personally, I do not trust people very well.

Now, herein lies the irony. I trust friends too well.

In fact, I really should learn to keep my guard up. Keep in mind that if everyone adopts this 'trial by fire' approach, then the world will be filled with anarchism!

Not all my true friends are baptized by fire, because I trust 'em. Some, however, have gone through 'troubles' with me. Well, most of my friends that come to mind had some bone to pick with me at some point in time.

So, ask yourself.

Instead of posting semi-emo posts in which you rant, whine and bitch about how 'lousy' your 'friend' treats you, why not reflect upon your own behaviour and think.

Think.

Are you worth it?

People say I'm a hypocrite. (Not that I deny it. Not that I have to explain myself.)

But I do act differently. And it is precisely my perspective that others do not consider that I would often be mistaken.

I don't treat other people 'better'.

I treat everyone well. If person is worthy of my respect, I will respect.

Of course, if I seem to be treating you like a worthless pile of dung, then you probably are not worthy of my respect.

Then again, I treat everyone equally badly, so when I treat an odd one out better, I suddenly, magically, seem to have a 'hidden agenda'.

Not that any of these mattered, because for those who knew me, I wouldn't give half an arse.

It does pisses me off sometimes though. But not myself.

When others start whining about people not giving them enough attention. My take on it? Grow up. Grow a pair.

Why do people care about others so much?

If you don't like me, I don't care. If you don't talk to me, I don't care. If you think I'm this or that, I don't really care.

If it doesn't concern me, or if it isn't significant enough.

Then it's simple.

Don't give half a rat's arse.

An anachronistic post. Jovi out.

Aedi.

2011-01-02T20:40:00.004+08:00

Y'know my hair is darn bushy and thick now? It's quite irritating to be unable to style my hair, because I really like the short, spiky wave of hair I used to have.

Seems like every visit to the hair stylist is a gamble: one that may pay off, or one that may totally cramp your style.

But I haven't been visiting the saloon. Partially explains why my hair is really a big, crumpled mess. It looks like a huge mushroom is sitting on my head. Not that any of that matters soon. In a week's time, I'll be off to serve NS.

Tempting, but I'll skip the chance to bitch at NS.

Rather, come this new year, I've realised I've grown much. It's one thing to have people judging and forcing ideas down your throat and another to completely come into deep realization what the better things in life are all about.

---

Yes, you've guessed it, been a few days since I returned to completing this post, but seriously, I have NO idea what's causing my intelligence to go on a hiatus. Thus, the lack of writing capabilities compounded by my lack of ideas, leading to a decrease in the frequency of (quality) posts I write.

But anywho, I shall now turn into the micro aspects of life. Things that are more diary-ish.

Maybe from the micro, I can jump out onto the macro. Y'know, things like that, sometimes reversing what your normally do can yield unexpectedly good results.

Or they may just backfire, but I'll try.

Got a friend who's back from Adelaide, Australia. (If I remember correctly this time!) Not sure if staying overseas do change people - we're not really close friends - but I believe that if given a chance, I'd be scared to go overseas.

Why?

Because I love the spontaneity that I can afford in Singapore. I really love the TK way of outing. My awesome friends here, who would really go out at 1.40am to eat prata just because I'm hungry. I love how we can go on outings almost instantly - be it going to the LAN shop, or going for pool, or to eat. It's something which is lost in TPJC. All of them live too far off, and most are bounded by rules.

Anyway, it's something like this.
*Sees friends online*
"Hey, wanna go prata later?"
"Yeah sure."

It's as simple as that. I love how straightforward meeting has become with my friends.

Also, I love how safe Singapore is. The worst person you can meet on the streets is...

Clement Tan.

Seriously, a bunch of idiots wielding their 'parang' isn't even slightly, remotely, imaginably, comparable to bullies/gangsters - REAL OUTLAWS - in European countries. Heck, the most evil of evil-doers in Singapore is probably that guy who watches child pornography while on scholarship!

Food in Singapore. That's a no-brainer.

Anyway, if I go on any further, you guys will probably start to point at me and laugh at my flimsy attempt at propaganda.

It got me thinking about a few friends who went overseas and I really wonder how well they're juggling with life there. People like Rui Zi and Rachel come to mind. Oh, and Leongy is coming back to Singapore for a while, so I hear. Hopefully, we'll be able to meet her and see how she's become.

Just so you know, it's 2am and I'm waiting for the United - Stoke match. 'Cos I've been missing many matches due to Starhub banning Sopcast, my lousy memory and the too-many parties that I've been attending.

Actually, parties mostly ensemble and TK parties. Glad I haven't been hanging out with my L4D2 or my DotA mates. Otherwise my wallet will surely go bankrupt. (It is now, after spending close to $50 at Marche and Coffee Club.)

As for my projects, I've recently just had a deal with a friend of mine. Now, I don't like to hide stuff like this (because there really isn't anything to hide) but everything is in the early stages. No real confirmation yet, it's all just an idea. A growing idea, though. If it works out, maybe I'll *hint!* post a video or two, so please check this space for updates!

Wait. It's 2:09am now. I thought 30 minutes has passed.

What am I going to do in 2 hours?

Wait, have I actually fallen asleep on my desk, and am actually dreaming? Dreaming that I'm writing a post? Why does time seem to go so slowly?

I lean back against my chair and picked up that mini-katana which I brought in Japan and unsheathed it. The letter-opener shined gloriously in the light. The beautifully curved edge juxtaposed against the wooden handle exuded some form of elegance, like the famous philosophy of the Tao: white against black, good against evil, for everything in nature has its opposite and equal reaction, and point, counter-point.

Balance.

The mini-katana was balanced.

And it wouldn't tip over.

Am I in a dream?

---

Hah! Yes, I've been watching Inception.

No, I will not write a detailed review; all I'll say is that it's quite a show, and it's not really all that hard to understand.

The only thing I hate about films is when those Americans (male, usually) actors start to mutter under their breath, trying to sound cool or manly and I can't hear a shit.

By the way, I'm quite prepared now. Come 3.30am, I shall activate all FIVE of my football links. If that still doesn't work, I'm going to arm myself with a rocket-propelled paper ball and try to demolish Noobhub.

Ok, this is completely random, (talking to my friend about eyes and all.) but if you notice, my right-eye is sometimes 'lazy'. It's not really 'lazy eyes' but due to the fact that my right-eye's muscle is, I guess, torn. It sometimes zones out when I'm not focusing, and it gives a really EERIE look. Because I seem to be staring into nothing.

Right.

My paragraphs are becoming more and more trivial.

This will not be trivial.

It's 2:24am in the morning.

I'm on my Sennheiser.

And I'm headbanging, singing (very softly) and air-guitar/bass/drum/keyboarding to metal songs.

THIS FEELING IS FRIGGIN' AWESOME I TELL YOU!!

One thing I hate about using bright monitors at night. All the freakin' bugs get attracted to my monitor light.

Bah, I think I'm signing off now. Hope y'all had fun reading this post, 'cos I had my fair share when doing that Inception thing.

Until the next, utterly amazing post.

Cheers!

Looong.

2010-12-29T23:57:00.003+08:00

New Year's coming and my blog is running dead.

Sad to speak, my ability to write well is faltering. Actually, it shouldn't even be in the continuous, it should be in the past.

I am failing to produce good posts, and if by chance I do, it is usually by a forced stroke or two, completely unnatural.

Y'know, opening a post by my whiny, bitchy rants is getting incredibly boring.

So let's spice things up a little. Y'know, all of the 'what-ifs' scenarios are always fun to imagine. Those things that cannot happen and yet, deep inside everyone one of us, we would like that barely, remotely possible event to actually happen.

Now, this one's a gamer's favourite.

---
---

Yes!! It is the horrifying zombie apocalypse!

Even though we have played countless video games on the zombie apocalypse and watched even more countless remakes of (maybe B-grade) zombie horror shows, we all, at some point of time, contemplated about the reality of an actual zombie break-out happening.

Now, just for the sake of easing my boredom, I shall calculate my chances of survival.

Let's go through basic stats.

Height: 174cm
Weight: 50kg

That makes me tall and very light weight; not the sort of physique that is ideal for survival. Being tall makes it difficult to hide, and having a high center of gravity makes me easier to fall, too. Being lightweight has its disadvantages as well: being unable to overpower zombies and move stuff and of course, if I get pinned by any huge object, the chances of me escaping are zero.

Now, having good flexibility will definitely help with my evasion and being light enables me to run fast as well. Of course, this shit is pretty useful if you consider having to dodge a friggin' jagged-blade, battle-axe-hammer hybrid, cowardly-Asian-ripping axe.

Sounds familiar? Yeah, it's the bad-arse in Resident Evil: Afterlife.

Let's talk about survival skills then.

1. I'm abso-friggin'-lutely pampered.

2. I will only eat what tastes good.

3. I will die in the wilderness.

4. The only two knots I know how to tie are exam script knots and my shoe laces.

5. I am a pussy; I fear every thing.

6. I haven't fired a real gun before. No, Modern Warfare is not considered live-firing.

7. Zombies are totally immune to my trash-talking.

See. I'm a really spoilt baby. So come zombie apocalypse, the first to die is probably me.

But then, I probably have learnt a lot from playing/watching zombie-related stuff that I can, like they say, survive a zombie apocalypse 'on paper'.

Theoretically, it's feasible. Practically, perhaps not so.

But if a zombie apocalypse truly comes, I bet I'll enjoy my arse off before I finally die.

Like, pumping lead into the head of that bitch who turned you down or hacking off that teacher who was always biased against you.

Hah.

No, I don't harbor any revenge fantasies, but I really love to shoot with the gun... if you catch my drift. >:)

---

No, it hasn't been a day, but my mind indeed have drifted off.

And I suddenly think of ice-skating.

Now, I may not look like it, but I'm quite the sporty type. I love to play sports and yes, I enjoy skating.

And I haven't touched skating in like, what, 10 years or more?

Anyway, I really forgot the last time I went skating, ice or not.

The Japan photos that I promised. I kinda forgot, yeah. So I'll be posting some nice ones.

Just in case you're wondering; ever since almost all of my friends went to Japan, I'm left emo-ing at home and here I am, browsing through photos taken from JJ and my camera.

AND BOY AM I PISSED. My camera malfunctioned pretty many times in Japan and I WILL get a better camera. I am going to buy one for my own recording purposes anyway.

So, here we go, 2 pictures only. Thousands of them lie on my desktop, rotting.

My Japan groupmates. We were supposed to write essay outlines and discuss and stuff.. But y'know, those are just excuses to have fun and all. :)

And this is our very friendly, awesome tour-guide, Takeda-san (IF I REMEMBERED CORRECTLY!!) Oh, his Yakuza stories and all of his 'Yakuza friends' seem to suggest that he is or was a Yakuza member. But anyway, love his Japanese accent when he speaks Engrish. The picture is taken on top of some crazy 500 (I can't remember) storey high building and the view is FANTASTIC I tell you.

---

Okay. Enough reminiscing. Time to plan Japan trip.

HAHAHA.

No, I'm just going to sleep. Loud typing irritates everyone.

Blame the keyboard!

Goodnight! Or morning.

Merry Axemas!

2010-12-24T23:54:00.002+08:00

Feliz Navidad!

Believe me or not, I got that more special way of expressing goodwill on Christmas from Judith! Aye, wishing people Merry Christmas in another style just makes me feel more sophisticated.

Before I continue, I must make a confession. Do take note that I do not subscribe to any religious beliefs nor do I actually believe in the existence of a God, but I will confess. Confess to my self, my spirit, to make do with all the doubts.

What I have to say is this: I confess that I'm extremely awesome.

Hah. Betcha thought I was going to say something serious. But I guess it's better not to the spoil the festive mood.

Have so many activities lined up for myself that I may have to skip some other ones.

Anyway, my 'merry' Christmas just turned slightly sour. A tinge of sadness. Because, once again, I've to meet up with my cowardliness. The inability to act. The inability to move forward. I am always restricted by my own unfounded fears. Insecurity. The inertia that is stopping me from moving out of my safety zone and free fall into society.

How I turned down wonderful job opportunities to go work as a part-timer.

How I rejected Dan's plan to travel to Japan. (And trust me. I so wanted to go to Japan to shop and meet cute girls.)

How I didn't dare to plan for my future.

How I gave up when I go to TPJC.

How I just didn't do new things. Not learning guitar, not learning this and that.

When will I learn?

This feeling of insecurity does not dissipate completely despite my age. I can't swim because I'm afraid.I am scared of heights not for the heights; but the feeling of being pushed over. I even used to be scared of being alone.

This insecurity is very... incapacitating.

Suddenly, I feel like I'm back to my whimsical, depressed self. But it's good in a sense that I am able to write with more expressiveness, with more open creativity. It's really true that geniuses - artists, musicians - are able to work better when alone or depressed. The desolation sort of gives the mind space to think, to work, to create. It is like a spiritual rift that grants you clarity of thought.

But I am... almost there. I feel myself working. It is a small step, but at least I'm moving. It's not totally uncharted waters, but at least I'm doing some bits of design. Moving my brain. Working the Machinery. The 'I'.

PUMP IT.

WORK IT.

It is such a waste to not use this genius in me.

---

BUT IT'S A FRIGGIN' CHRISTMAS!!!

So I must be jolly and go all ho ho ho!

No use musing over nothing and writing about nonsense. Because this day, we celebrate a metal Axemas and we shall party 'til dawn and lets dance around songs of metal and we shall have joy!

So may all woes be gone and may everyone be happy!

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

A Prism in a gift box!

So have a good one, everybody!

---

2010-12-22T01:30:00.001+08:00

I'm running out of issues to write.

If you want to help keep my blog alive, give me suggestions on the chatbox which is currently infested with spammers.

Help me out!

Excerpt.

2010-12-21T01:33:00.002+08:00

Truth be told, my writing touch is failing me. Or I am failing myself. Because I have increasing difficulties in motivating myself. And that inspiration seemed to have abandoned me, like a gambler tired of sounds of rolling dice - pretty apt, if you ask me, the imagery of a gambler and the sound of rolling dice.If you ask my old self, I will tell you that I will have none of this. Genius is purely the brainchild of inspiration and motivation. That inspiration is something to be chanced upon, be it through an epiphany or a serendipitous discovery.

Now that I've matured (or so I claim), I would like to subscribe to another belief. That Genius is a mixture of good fortune, recklessness and hard work. Because nothing comes easy. If everything came easily, we'd all be professionals, getting rich, having everything.

Because to gain, we have to lose. The equilibrium of the world is as such. We cannot win everything, cannot gain everything. For everything we earn, we have to give up something. I believe the economists call it 'opportunity cost'.

Now, I try to be inspired myself. Whenever I write a post, I'll Google things like 'beautiful places', 'inspirational photos', or things like that. Visuals help me a lot in imaging. I love fantastically beautiful places. I'm drawn towards breath-taking scenery. Be it the ghostly moon dancing in the shadows of the clouds or the mystical glades with a fountain of youth. They never fail to inspire me.

Yet, as I grow more cynical, inspiration gets harder to attain. Perhaps I'm not looking far enough. Not looking hard enough. To scrutinize small things to life. To bring joy to myself. Like the bass line of an awesome song, the scream of a keyboard solo or a face-melting solo.

Art. They call it food for the soul.

I've chanced upon this site which briefly discusses the issue of inspiration and design. It's a really short paragraph, but I'm sure it is great food for thought.

Here's the link: http://blog.echoenduring.com/2010/04/20/the-inspiration-myth/

(I realise that my blog does not support right-clicks, so it's better to just let you guys copy and paste this to another browser. I personally hate having to backspace my own blog because everything it does, that player will play Butterfly and I will hear someone - I think it's Joel - say "Hey Jovi".)

And another link. It's quite design-related. Lots and lots of beautiful works of art: http://wefunction.com/2008/07/unconventional-web-design-inspiration/

And y'know. Before I die. I must. Catch. An aurora borealis.

---

Okay, back to the topic!

Inspiration. The stroke of genius that gets you moving. To get started.

I will list down a couple of things I wanted to do with this blog, but didn't due to either a lack of time, a lack of motivation, a lack of will, a lack of ability or that I'm just plain lazy.

1. I wanted to do an open-ended fantasy story which will be written out chapter by chapter and released once weekly. It will be kind of like a D&D choose-your-adventure sort of book. Y'know, when I was a kid, I loved 'playing' those books like "Choose to fight, go to Pg 15. Choose to run, go to Pg.17." sort of thing.

But it fell short because, well, I doubted my abilities to write and I felt that I wasn't up to it - my two excuses for actually not wanting to put effort into anything.

2. A character design portfolio.

I realised I couldn't draw for nuts, so I gave up.

I am still rueful over the fact that the only thing I could draw is stickmen. And I still fail at it.

3. Increased interactivity.

I actually wanted to increase the interactivity of my blog. But I felt that my readers are often just a select bunch - 10+ of you? - who frequently visit my blog and most of the time y'all will just choose to be silent readers. 10+ is a rough estimate, I'd be glad if I had 20 subscribers. :)

---

Okay! That will do now.

It's 2:05am in the morning and the crunching sound of someone furiously typing on the keyboard must surely put the sleeping beauties off. I apparently can't sleep after taking a nap when I returned home from a (largely) sleepless marathon.

Until then, I hope that inspiration knocks upon your doors and that Lady Luck keeps smiling at you.

Of course, get your arse down there and put in some damn effort.

2010-12-17T13:26:00.001+08:00

The only reason why I'd join Tumblr is because it is aesthetically pleasing.

And I just might.

I just might.

Alaska.

2010-12-17T10:47:00.002+08:00

Dear Diary,

I've just woke up to a fine, wintry morning, albeit seeming out of sort with the climate here which is usually hot and humid.

It was the same routine today, check my mail, news from my favourite football club and for any other new updates of Japanese manga.

It seemed to be a good enough day for a walk in the park, but that would serve no purpose for me, I suppose. Hardly is there anyone to go out with, and even if we do, what is there to do in this tiny island?

I am feeling stranded. Physically and intellectually.

I would say I am extremely bored though, but it seems that a part of me refuses to go further. It may just be winter; the cold is freezing me up. But what excuses am I actually looking into?

Sometimes I just wonder what I'm going to do with my life; I'm drifting aimlessly right now. Well, there is a an aim, but I'm lacking the heart to go for it.

Hmm, I guess that's what you call being trapped in one's own comfort zone.

Am I lazy? I think not. Probably a huge coward.

I also do not understand why I'm trying to write in perspective.

(I know this whole passage will feel weird for whomever is reading it.)

Got to catch the morning train over now, am picking up postage from the local office.

See you guys in a while!

Ants.

2010-12-16T12:25:00.003+08:00

Recently, the area about my desktop had an ant invasion. It wasn't the sort that would feature in a B-grade horror movie, but they sure were large. Not to mention disgusting as well - I have a strong dislike for all bugs.

Seeing them wandering under my legs made me uncomfortable; the sort of feeling that sometime, they would just creep up your legs. I would see not much harm in letting them live, actually. Because, it's my fault that I (probably) didn't clean my desk much. That I have candies and chocolates all over the place. And that I eat at my desk. After all, the ants are just trying to find a living.

But this incident made me realize something inherent in human nature. The double standards and hypocrisy in most, if not all, of human beings.

When I accidentally rolled over one of those ants, somewhere, deep inside of me, I feel a sense of evil, twisted satisfaction. To see the squashed remains of an adversary that tried to encroach into my territory. Immediately after that, I felt a tinge of sadness. To see that just by moving my chair, I have accidentally killed a life. (Insignificant or not, we shall leave the discussion to another time.)

But the numbers were overwhelming. I couldn't stand the sight of having 5 or 6 large ants crawling all over the floor.

I bought in my weapon of mass destruction: the Baygon.

I sprayed that gas that even humans will find pungent onto the ants. Slowly, but surely, they are meeting their doom.

But alas. The sight of those ants crawling in agony, writhing in pain, crumpling into a ball whilst struggling, moving their legs, seemed to have triggered some of my emotions. What really bothered me is the fact that even though they (seem) to be in utmost pain, they are not dead.

Their legs are still moving. They are still struggling.

If this is the equivalent of the Nazi gas chamber tortures, then one can't help but wonder, how we, as a human race, will do whatever we can, to achieve whatever we want.

What sickens me is that some subscribe to a 'holy-than-thou' behaviour when discussing the hypocrisy of humans. While I've been critical, and sometimes even misanthropic, I have also accepted that I am after all, a human. One who errs and makes mistakes.

Can we really ignore the backward decline that has occurred as a result of our insatiable need for growth?

What has happened to the way of the Bushido?

When knights laid down their gauntlets and fight honorably to the death?

Whatever took over honor, pride and dignity?

Of course, humans have fought dirty through time: the advent of the likes of ninjas, spies and treachery.

But now, we have gone onto another level of cheat.

We will go to any method, any way to win whatever we want. It can be sometimes as petty as gaining the slightest of advantage against an opposition.

Well, when we can't beat them, we join them. Or so they say.

I've tried my best to stay true to my path. Not to be swayed by others. It's an individualistic and rather idealistic view, but I will not falter. Because there are higher things in life. Things which aren't necessarily 'successful' as judged by society.

But hey. I'm a maverick. One who doesn't give a damn what society sees me as.

Why care about others when you are living your life?

Thus, I'm a person. Which I shall reiterate again.

Whom you either love.

Or hate.

Disjointed.

2010-12-05T03:45:00.003+08:00

"It's easy to give thanks when life is successful. However, great faith is shown when one is able to give thanks even when the going is tough." - Jovi.

--

Tiny droplets of rain, flow ever so slowly.
Bending time, petals of memories unfold.
A cool breeze, gets under your skin.
This rain - poetry in motion.

That pretty much summed up how amazing the rain was today.

A thin veil of curtain, the droplets of rain flow ever so slowly. A magical feeling seemed to surround me, the observer, when looking at the brilliance of the rain. The frosty wind reminded me so much of Japan's frosty mornings. I really miss Japan. Like how I didn't have the opportunity to actually immerse myself in Japan's night life, to really stay for a day or two at the countryside, go to Japan's famed fish markets or experience the magnificent Hokkaido.

It was fantastic while it lasted, the Japan experience. Hot springs are really wonderful though. We totally should have them in Singapore.

---

I wrote that a week or two ago. Now I'm trying to get back to good writing habits.

Because a good friend of mine bought me this book called "It's never to late...". It really is a nice looking book. And for all her intentions, I felt that the content wasn't really important. It's just a message in a book; trying to get a message across. The medium - the book - isn't really suitable for this message.

Anyway, it's a really wonderful gift - I haven't had much gifts y'know, especially seasonal ones - and the next one is a row of chocolate liqueur set. It looks so wonderful that it would pain my heart to open it up and actually eat 'em.

BUT.

The more I stare at those rows of liqueurs, the more I want to eat all of them.

--

Next day.

Yup, I ate a few already. And damn, I hate disjointed posts so I'm going to publish this lousy one immediately and then I'll go write another one.

Next one's slightly more personal, so be warned, those weak-of-heart!

Kitty's Box.

2010-12-04T00:43:00.003+08:00

Now, I need you to have an open-mind and allow me into your inner soul.

Read the following passage with an open-mind and hopefully, I'll be able to motivate you.

--

Have you ever had this feeling that time is slowing slipping away from your side? Yet at other times, time zooms by so quickly that in a flash, an instant is gone?

For we, as a society, are obsessed with time. We are constantly made to achieve the best results in the shortest time; at least that's what is considered the 'best'. Therefore, we are pressed for time. We often bemoan that 24 hours a day is definitely not enough to walk the dog, do the grocery, go for a date, play an instrument, study for our majors and etc. But who are we to blame if we don't slow down our steps and take a good luck at our surroundings?

Perhaps that way, we may come up with a new idea or obtain a broader perspective. Micro-managing time isn't the best way to maximize our usage of time.

That is the pitfall that we all sometimes be trapped in: an utterly perverted obsession with time.

Our education is a race against time: piled with endless information, papers after papers after papers of non-stop rote learning of texts after texts after texts of words and words and words. The much-frowned upon, 'lower-class' education - the Normal Levels - takes even more time than the Ordinary Levels. Polytechnic takes up 3 years as compared to JC's 2 years.

Thus, we are imprinted from birth and I believe, we're somewhat forced to subscribe to this perverse notion of time: the faster you finish, the better you are.

However, what most people fail to notice is the quality that we're missing. I'm not saying that everything that's rushed is of bad quality.

But the fact is that we are definitely not given ample opportunities or space or - cue magic word - time to develop our talents and work for our dreams.

It's good to be able to slow down in life to smell the roses. One would certainly be blessed if one is able to do so in today's modern hectic lifestyle where we're all in a mad rush to earn money, to let money asexually multiple to get even more money and then we plant these money seeds for money to sprout...

All these for money. The time we all spent, for money.

The more we get is the more we lose.

We have better standard of living. All those technological advances - years spent on research. All the investments and economical boons - money pouring in from everywhere. Yes, we are all partly affluent.

But pray tell, at what cost?

I'm going to list a few.

We've lost our connection with the Universe. That's one of the biggest lost I can imagine.

Now, whether you subscribe to any form of religion or any form of spiritual beliefs, I must implore you to read on with an open mind. For a closed mind can learn nothing and when one stops learning, one is merely a fool. Tad harsh, but I just wanted to sound philosophical. :)

Okay. If I could just borrow the 4 classic Greek elements, the comparisons made would definitely be startling.

Fire. We have lost the will and passion to actively seek what we want. This example is used so many times that it's rotten: Would any parent allow his or her child to pursue an 'unorthodox' career? Rare cases aside, I would say no. More often than not, we're offered a 'second choice' only when we fail to proceed with the 'ideal case'. In this case, we have a number of scenarios.

Mainly going to an overseas university when one fails to make the mark or to a local, but private university. Of course, that is the dilemma I am in. I would not speak for everyone, but my mother - although supportive of me - frowns upon me entering a university.

And for good reason: this society is ultra-competitive. So much that anything that is not recognised is simply not good at all.

But wait. I want to question you.

In what way is it recognised? For the mere fact that in one seating of a particular examination, you managed to - by chance or otherwise - write the correct answers on a piece of paper - otherwise worthless - which you've managed to either internalised or not.

Examinations are not without merit. But what frustrates me is that, well, it's crude, but only the good gets selected. It's a selection of the elite. It's prevalent, this trend. In CCA selection, school admission and even job application!

--

Air.

The fundamental importance to life. The ability to inspire.

That is perhaps lacking in our lives. We need air to live. And our mind needs inspiration to live. And our ideas require inspiration to drive.

If we stop thinking, even for a day, then our minds are not alive. It is simply dead. One seeks to be inspired and to be inspiring. It's the most we can receive and do, to give back to society.

Again, ask any 18 year old. Do they feel inspired? Or do they feel like they can inspire others?

Yes, sometimes, perhaps.

What bugs me is that, like the aforementioned, our obsession with time and productivity has hampered our creative thinking. Critical thinking is being forced down our throats a la project work. I know how it feels like to have 'creativity' forced down your face.

It's what I'm going through right now. I'm forcing myself to write, to express, to inspire.

It's not working very well, because it's not innate. There is no passion, no fire. Granted, given enough practice, one may continue writing creatively with practised ease. But no, I, as a human, prefer my feelings and emotions raw.

--

Water.

Emotions. The still, motionless water; a tiny droplet falls, a ripple effect, creating a disturbance. Juxtapose that against a raging waterfall, a thunderstorm.

We are an apathetic lot.

We need a stupid song to tell us, to remind us to be courteous. And damn me if I do have to even say out the lyrics.

We'd hardly give much yarn to other issues which do not pertain to us.

We complain about a parental government, yet we do not seek to escape the clutches of conformity. Because we are conformists. We complain, yet we conform and by conforming, we only aggravate the issues in which we complain.

Emotionally-devoid teenagers. Angsty teenagers. People with mid-life crisis.

I'm just glad juvenile suicide isn't on the rise here. Unlike at the land of the Rising Sun.

Or that we have to conform to having plastic surgery on our 18th birthday.

--

Earth.

Global warming.

Haze.

Melting polar caps.

Rising sea levels.

Increase in frequency of freak storms.

Volcanic eruptions.

Our earth is being destroyed. By who? By ourselves.

All for what? To clear more trees. To build more buildings.

For money. To decrease traveling time.

--

You do see the links now? How we are all stuck in this vicious cycle to progress. And that by progressing we actually regress. And that by forcing progress, by attempting to progress in a rapid, unprecedented rate, we are actually moving backwards.

It's difficult to see.

It's much more easier to go with the crowd and believe in all the advantages by looking through our rose-tinted glasses. Damn the naysayers who doubt progress!

I'm not a pessimistic person.

I truly belief that at the rate we are going, our progress is unsustainable, physically and emotionally.

And one day, it may all just end up spiraling backwards.

Ever heard of the Pandora's Box?

Melanaloholic.

2010-11-28T11:21:00.003+08:00

Her lashes fluttered as my gaze was fixated on those hazel-coloured eyes.

I was utterly captivated by the beauty of her eyes and in this case, her eyes probably communicated to me much more than her words; I was enthralled by the beauty of her eyes!

Because I, for one, believe that a person's eyes are the windows to their soul. Believe you me, someone's worth can be seen from his or her eyes.

When a person talks to you, interacts with you, then said person's eyes will speak volumes on how he or she regards you. Because when a person genuinely cares, you can see from their eyes. The way they hold a conversation, whether it's half-hearted or not, you can see it from their eyes. Of course, blessed for those with beautiful eyes, for they can, sometimes, mask their motivations just by innocently fluttering their eyes.

Why? Eyes can be extremely captivating. Having a beautiful pair of eyes definitely increases one's charisma level.

But eyes can also tell you other things. They can tell you the ugliest of thoughts, the evilest of malice.

There is indeed some truth to the saying that offending a gentleman rather than the villain is the lesser of two evils.

When someone has a true rivalry - let's not use the word hatred - with someone else, the anger in his or her eyes is one that is pure. Visualize burning amber. The ability to rationally think while having contempt for another person, while this act may seem like a paradox, is very much an endangered skill in today's context.

What most of us, of course, not barring myself, do is that once we are faced with another opinion - an opinion that differs from ours - we activate our defensive mechanism. We don't rationally think anymore. For me, I'm trying to get rid of this, to judge less harshly; albeit still as critically, because judging critically is important for the growth of the mind.

---

Truth be told, I'm struggling to get back to my writing rigour. At first, my mind seemed to switch off academically. Now, it seems to have switched off totally. I'm not sure what is the course of this, but I am, at least for now, making a conscious effort to get my brain up and functioning again. (Less mindless entertainment, that is, computer games, anyone?)

I will rant just one this line this afternoon: When one is cynical and apathetic. One doesn't give much care anymore. Thus, nothing can inspire.

Well, time to break out of it; I have a request for all my readers. (At least, those who bother to tag!) I am currently attempting to create a 'design portfolio' sort of thing - take it like a mock test - so I can at least try to get into DigiPen.

I will now, on a weekly basis, create two characters and/or cities in which I'd like everyone to critique. It doesn't matter if you haven't had any experience in areas as such, because as a game designer, one must obviously create a character that most (non-gamers) can relate to and would like to be in, so to speak, their skin.

So, I implore everyone to give me your honest and critical opinions so I can improve my design portfolio.

I also sincerely apologise for the lack of motivational posts nowadays. Guess this is what you call having a mental block.

So, farewell, past month and here's a toast to a festive December, post-majors celebrations and plenty of free-flow booze!

(Cross your fingers; the screwed up climate may actually bring snow to Singapore!)

Ynahpipe.

2010-11-19T03:03:00.002+08:00

3:05am.

Finishing up my last Grand Dragon for the day; power-leveling my Final Fantasy IX characters seem to be such a pain in the arse. Nevertheless, am doing so for reasons which evade me. Time for a bath.

3:23am.

Just had an epiphany while bathing. Pretty much sums up my life so far. Haven't really been thinking; mind's a blank. But an epiphany's a good start. Guess this will lead to somewhere.

3:26am.

So here I am, sitting myself down in front of the computer, putting in my utmost - though futile - efforts to type as softly as possible on this chunky piece of contraption that costs a good $15.

It all matches very well to the trends I've seen.

Every since Primary 1. My grades have been decreasing. Slowly, but surely, they're decreasing.

From straight perfect scores in Primary 1 (I had full marks for everything.) to a near-perfect 90 plus, dropping to 80s and 70s during the PSLE, suddenly slipping to 60-70 for O's and now the sudden plummet: Failing.

Of course, I can blame the education. After all, it's Tampines goddamn Junior College.

But no. Something lies deeper.

It is this simple fact: I've actually not been studying at all.

At all.

What does that mean?

Firstly, knowledge is not internalized, and I'm only doing tests for the sake of doing, so much that until now, I've became totally indifference to tests and results.

Secondly, being wayward towards studying makes me fail stuff.

Why?

Because as we get older, things we learn are more complex and inter-linked.

They are not as simple as before.

Thus, with my intellect, I can only do so much without studying. And you can see from the grades: a gradually decreasing slope; the mockery of God as He brings wind and rain unto the peasants who farmed.

What I've done so for to get 'good' results: Pay as much attention as possible in class, and replicate the work I've done.

This isn't useful in TPJC for the mere reason I take 2 hours to travel to and fro. Compare that to 15 minutes of WALK time from TKSS.

It's a LOT of hours saved from travelling.

Because we all know that in examinations, our number one nemesis is Time.

Yes, a downwards spiral of untimely doom resulting from the implosion of one's mental capacities!

I exaggerate.

So, that said, I've now figured out at least a PART of the huge puzzle. Which needs to be solved. And fast.

Or my life will be shredded to pieces.

I blame my lazy self. Yes, I love to delegate BLAME. Damnit, I can even delegate blame.

I'm just that egoistic and obnoxious.

Hah.

But with the forces of the Universe acting against me, surely I can invoke some of these positive energies unto myself?

Until then, I shall carve my own future. My own Final Fantasy.

Better man.

2010-11-17T21:18:00.003+08:00

To tell you the truth, I am not a naysayer, but all this talk about an adult life is getting me down. Really down.

And trust me, I don't mean to be critical, but having no goals in life and nothing to look forward to in the future is really pathetic.

What makes things worse is my indifferent attitude towards my failure. I wouldn't call it a hubris. I'm far too wise for that. (Irony intended.)

Anyway, going to a JC is sometimes synonymous to taking a shorter route to a University.

A local, recognised and prestigious University, mind you; not MDIS or SIM or any other universities out there that ain't recognised at all - vacancies probably saved for TPJCians.

I only have myself to blame. This lethargic attitude towards studying, a passionless hobby is what makes me fail. Of course, say all you want, but at the end of the day...

(With all caps, too!)

Of course, you've read about all the rants I have about how post-apocalypse society base a person's worth on his or her results.

But what I'm trying to bring across is this: What happens to those who have fallen short? Those who have not made the mark? Societal outcasts. We have no place in a society which favours meritocracy because what rewards are there for those without merits?

Once again, I have extremely low confidence of clearing this hurdle. Perhaps, I may need to re-take. But once again, I pray to my Lady Luck, to help me clear this. By some good luck, a tad of effort, I'll be able to take up a degree in game design.

But I'm not gathering hope. For only through hope, can one experience disappointment. Of course, I'm disappointed already, without hope. It's a weird thing, but I'm sure most of us have experienced this feeling of utter despair at some point of our lives.

There are just so many uncertainties in life.

What can I do if I don't enter a local university? What courses do I take if I enter a local university? Should I enter a private university/poly? What decisions should I make?

Decision-making is a pain in the ass when the only thing you can base your judgement on is the future.

And if you're any logical, sane person, you would probably agree with me that the only thing certain about the future is... uncertainties. Cliche, but it's a fact.

Ahhh.

I probably need someone/something to make me chill. Perhaps, away from this stressful (really?) life can I really regain my writing touch.

To tell you the truth, I've pretty much lost it. Faced with the inhumanities of man, the ugliness of humans, the restrictions of society, the asphyxiation of expectations... and all the excuses that I make. Over and over again. For I know that I make mistakes; after all, I'm just a man.

I've become so... indifferent. Over-used, but indifferent.

This void.

All the thoughts, the feelings that used to run by me, float through my soul, fill me up with ideas, are all gone now.

Perhaps I need a little bit of... chillin'.

But one thing I've learned about humans is that, we sometimes need space. Time and space. To maybe free up some creativity, to not be restricted, to allow ourselves to express our thoughts fully.

I can't even write this whole passage without losing focus. i.e. forgetting what I want to write.

Why?

Why is it that all my critical abilities and creativity are all failing me?

Is something happening to me?

I don't really know. At the end of the day, I don't really know. I don't know what future holds for me.

But I know that if I don't start to change, I'm going to be over. Over and done with.

Like an afterthought.

I haven't touched Physics for the two whole days. I'm not sure what I'm doing.

Am I resigning myself to this cruel fate? Don't I always rebel against fate? Don't I always boast of my capabilities to right a wrong? The United mentality to fight back after being 2-0 down, at the last 10 minutes?

Where has it all gone now, my flamboyance?

We humans are constantly in search of recognition and identity.

That's why we fear change. We don't want to change because any agent of change has a chance of eroding one's identity. One's identity will not withstand the attrition of time if one doesn't have significant contributes. To what? To whom? Why? How?

Many questions are begging to be answered.

I hold few answers. And for these half-answers I probably have a handful more of questions.

I'm actually not even thinking. I don't know why I can't think.

This is.

Frustrating.

I can't even write convincingly now.

Excuse me while I find my own identity.

Actually, finding back my former self won't do.

I need to find a better me. To be a better man.

Give up.

2010-11-10T21:37:00.002+08:00

Y'know, it really is a bleak, bleak scenario for me out there.

It's neither here nor there.

Feels as if it's all over; the feeling of desolation, of hopelessness.

Why, I haven't been this cynical since... I don't know when. I feel so apathetic myself that I'm disgusted. Can't believe I actually feel utterly, thoroughly deflated after just two friggin' papers. And not just full papers.

It just feels as if I don't give a damn anymore.

I can flung the paper and go pay the Devil a visit and sip hot sulphur for tea.

But clearly I can't. Bringing up the issue of enrolling into a private university is taboo. What more do I have in store in my life? Of course, pile me up with all the 'should have's', 'could have been's' and 'what if's'. But this is it. It's over. I myself know I'm going to do badly. I myself know that I'm done for.

Do I still have reason to hope?

Apparently not. Perhaps, it's time to hang up my boots, call it a day off, admit that I'm not smart at all and move on. But can I really move on?

Stuck between an O Level certificate and a degree.

What future is there in a globally competitive Singapore? Even road sweepers these days have a friggin' Ph.D.

I don't know any more. What other possible choices do I have in front of me. No one didn't told me a lot of nothing, you see. When I enrolled into JC... Oh Goddamnit you've heard the friggin' story like a few thousand times.

I didn't know shit.

Neither do I know shit now.

I have to admit that in life, there can be no perfection. Sometimes you just take things longer. People can be a millionaire at 12. You can be a tissue seller at 48.

Just someone/something/a spiritual being/a higher power tell me what to do.

Do the best for my subjects? That's practically impossible. My best is not even my best; I haven't been putting in effort. You know you are going to flung your major is you can screw up your best subject, a la GP.

What more can I do?

Singapore Universities. Private ones. Might as well go there with an O Level certificate. Because, seriously, you CAN go to private universities with an O Level certificate.

What more is there to my life?

I feel... lost. I need to find a place I can belong. And fast.

I don't know where and how I'll find the strength to carry on, but I must.

I won't be a chip off the old block; I cannot afford to.

(Clayton, someone whom I'm not really close to, just brought a smile to my face. And this time, I meant a genuine, real smile. I feel heartened. Have I been too cynical?)

Perhaps, if I put in some effort, by some miracle, something special might just happen. Y'know, if you can defend against an early zerg rush, you probably can win the game.

The game CAN still be won.

But it feels as if I'm currently fighting against 2 Insane AIs. (Anyone managed to get that achievement?)

One nemesis is myself. The other is everyone else who's taking the A's.

I'm becoming a real lousy, aren't I. Becoming the relegated whom I really hated. Becoming something I abhor. Feels low-class. Feels doom.

Did I just get you there?

C'mon, who am I friggin' kidding.

It's JOVI we're talking about.

He never goes down without a fight.

And even with his brain splattered against the wall (by a rather gruesome crowbar) he will still produce magic.

I am.

Going to.

Steal a.

Win.

Thankingives.

2010-11-02T00:50:00.002+08:00

It's going to be a short one, I promise.

First of all, been playing Final Fantasy IX like there's no tomorrow. Immersing myself and escaping from reality sure is awesome.

But there's always Daniel to pull me back. Scream that it's less than a week away. Yeah, that boss that has an attack which is inversely proportional to my preparations. In non-geek speak, it actually means that the more I prepare, the less fearful this boss becomes.

So, much thanks to Daniel, once again, for pulling me out.

And I totally abhor mangas which have the 'Bullied Kid' persona. It totally pisses me off. Naruto is one of them. He would fail, get his arse kicked, train for 5 years, come back, beat said enemy, get his arse kicked again, go through one or two flash-backs, train for another 5 years... You basically get the whole Naruto story.

This new manga, Accel World, attracted me.

Storyline is not really novel - slightly reminisce of .Hack - and the main character totally disgusts me.

For one, he gets all the cute girls.

Two, there are two cute girls already in the first chapter.

Three, the girls are really cute.

They're like totally moe.

And I mean totally moe.

And I shall sleep now. Short one.

Oh and before I go, thanks to everyone who is still supporting this blog, despite it being incoherent, lengthy, depressing and abandoned at times.

Keep on supporting. Peace.

:)

Incoherent Sources.

2010-10-31T09:49:00.003+08:00

Out of all things, I just had to wake up to a weird dream. All I'm going to say is that I dreamt about Judith. That's all. (It's been, what, a few years already.)

Anyway, the frequency of my dreams seemed to have increased after some prolonged discussions about OBE with a classmate of mine. All this talk about spirituality has indeed raised my spiritual consciousness. Of course, the non-believers or skeptics might just call bullshit - after all, they'll just say "日有所思，夜有所梦". For my English readers, that means whatever thought processes that have gone through your head in the day will be reflected in your dreams at night.

Don't worry, this won't be a 7-page essay on Dreaming techniques and stuff. But it is definitely interesting and books written by Robert A. Monroe are worth reading. (If I'm not wrong, my book is still with Jia-en.)

Another weird thing that probably has happened in my life is the introduction of a somewhat queer English-boy who has an Arab girlfriend and can switch between accents of Phillipinos, English, Tamil and some other countries fluently. Of course, such a person can only be as extravagant and flamboyant as Robert Mancini. And despite having a dislike for French, still speaks bloody fluent French and German. Or as I would mock, douche-language.

No, I have nothing against the Germans. Except maybe how Ozil looks so horrendous.

Moving on.

Said person, Daniel - you wonder why all Daniels are born with silver spoons in their mouths, the other Daniel Teh comes to mind - is a very nice boy. Got acquainted with him through NS-check up, you see. So the propaganda that NS builds bonds is indeed, quite true.

Basically, what Daniel has done for me, is tremendous. And I appreciate his efforts. Always harassing me, pushing me, asking me to study. Whatever will I do without him. I've already met up with him four times to study. And I felt that I've learnt so much Chemistry within those days. Not to mention I was always distracted by cute girls and/or food.

Just to tell you, I am not gay.

Ok, next.

I've realised the emergence of Korean mangas, or as they call it, manhwas. (It's just the Chinese pronunciation of 漫画, seriously.) There are a couple of good ones though.

BUT!

There is one thing I hate about manhwas, and it is those confounded KOREAN NAMES. They are SO long and similar. And they ALL are terribly hard to pronounce. Seriously, 99.9% of their surname is Lee. As if they worship our MM. No, I'm not going to go on a politic rant 'cos I'm part of this ignorant society which is totally apathetic about Singapore's politics.

Which leads me nicely to my next point of contention.

Types of bloggers.

Emo and angsty bloggers try to grab attention.

Who doesn't like to read a blog which somehow they can relate to, in a way or another? Or, in a more sadistic way, laugh at another's demise? (Note I do not use schadenfreude because I think it is too extremely cliche. To the point of disgust.)

I was somehow just reminded that I ACTUALLY HAVE TWO LIT TEXTS TO STUDY IN A WEEK'S TIME.

For your information, I am currently banking on 3 H2 As and am completely disregarding my H1 Lit. Yes, from 3 Us to 3 As. Possible?

After all the intensive revision.

And coupled with my genius.

I believe I can.

And damnit, I will.

Get my straight As.

Just you wait, A's. I'm going to whoop your arse twice over so successfully that even your son won't recognize you. Yeah, that's O's. Damnit, I'm incoherent now.

Better go off before I spout any more nonsense.

Oh and the United - Spurs match which ended at 2.30am last night was worth watching. Drinking wine while watching soccer definitely gives you that sense of sophistication that uncles who crack peanuts and drink beer in kopitiams can only dream about.

Me and my elitism. Out.

Somebody Else's Problem.

2010-10-26T22:38:00.002+08:00

It's been a while, my friends.

I'm not sure what is inhibiting my flow of ideas, but there is this drought. A drought of ideas, where one's mind if left in arbitrary blank and the flow of thought is left to a mere trickle.

Perhaps, I'm experiencing some form of pressure. It's just that I don't feel pressure or anything like that. I can also assure you I'm not mugging my arse off - in fact, I'm actually wishing for myself to be a mugger.

That is not to be - I don't think I will ever be a mugger; O's was just a breeze-through for me. It was never my intention to excel in my studies - something I don't believe in.

Call it radical. Call it rebellious. Whatever.

I've only fought for things which I truly loved and believed in. Likewise, I will never put in an ounce of effort for things I don't.

That said, an equilibrium has to be reached for society has unspoken laws for the young: study and you shall be rewarded. The point of contention is that it is not the process of studying, but rather, the results of studying that truly matters.

And therefore, it all boils down to 'by any means necessary'.

Let's face it.

You and I and everyone else with an ounce of intelligence will know that the society we live in is one that is not fair, unscrupulous and competitive. God(s) - if any at all - has not made us equal. Men has never been equal, nor will there be any so-called 'fraternity' or brotherhood for us to love each other.

One's demise is seen as someone else's rise.

Therefore, to be in the bottom of a hierarchy, is to be seen as staple food; the prey who will feed the predator, the rabbit which slackened at the jaws of the fox, the three black men raping a white girl with hatred in their minds - like a dagger plunging into the flesh.

This is no pessimistic idea: it is an innate behaviour to survive.

What many never truly, openly acknowledge is the fact that to be 'better than the other man', one has to have power. And in order to attain this power, we have to do it by 'any means necessary'. That said, to apply within our context, your straight A's is the result of someone scoring straight U's.

This world that we live in is essentially a zero-sum game, where the summation of all successes is more or less proportional to the summation of all failures.

That's right, that is a sweeping statement. Moreover, we often don't see the failures - we tend to look at the bright side: those who managed to do well.

Of course, the definition of failure or success is often blurred; scoring a B in an exam may be taken to be a success or a failure - never mind the Indian father who got so upset at his son scoring a B for Linguistic Studies.

I'm quite upset that I'm abiding, albeit half-heartedly, by the rules of an apathetic society. One which has rubbed off cynicism off my soul. I try to be happy, well, I try. I wouldn't say I tried, for I am not happy. I am a perfectionist, therefore I'm always not contended - always unhappy.

Nevertheless, I try to find things in live which I'm feel - and I truly feel - blessed.

I've reached an epiphany that being frugal does not equate to being in poverty.

Sure, I am not have a massive wardrobe filled with designer clothes or racks full of branded shoes. Sure, I don't have the latest gaming console or the trendiest phone or a 24-room mansion.

Sure, I'm always aiming for more. But at least, at the very least, I tell myself I'm blessed. Or I try to feel blessed, anyways. Because I have things which I want. Things which I need are always available. I'm not mega-rich, but I am rich; I don't live in excess but I have things in bounty.

I've come to a conclusion that for me to live in more happiness - now, pardon these two words - I have to increase my standard of living and quality of life.

That means I have to study.

No matter how unmotivated I am, I have to study.

To be able to do what I want to do.

To create a legacy.

To design.

To make music.

What more can I ask for, like-minded friends and enthusiasts?

The very beings in my life who have tried their best to inject a little bit of happiness, a little bit of optimism, a little bit of motivation into this cynical soul - no matter how successful you guys were.

I may be burdened by my own thoughts, my own insecurities, my own troubles. For the past 18 years, I've more or less lived on my own. An introvert.

I try to appreciate those around me, although I feel cynical why anyone should help anyone else for the world is an evil place.

I try to fill in goodness in voids.

I may not be able to change the world at it is, but I try.

And only by trying little things at a time, will anything work at all.

For now, I should get started on revision.

~Annarasumanara.

The cake is a lie.

2010-10-12T23:27:00.002+08:00

I hate people who are optimistic.

They're a bunch of cowardly and spineless worms, crawling on their guts, seeking solace from the realities of the world in a deep, dark abyss known as optimism.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm one for optimism - suitable amount of optimism helps to drive the blues away. But what struck me most is that excess optimism is like a can of cyanide, albeit perfectly disguised as a can of soda pop. Even worse, the labels read: 'toxic' and yet many consume the poison. It cripples your soul, debilitates your brain and sucks the spirit out of you.

I've seen optimism in many forms and I'll be damned if that black, fat crow isn't one of the most foolish ones. I don't entirely understand advocates of optimism. It just isn't pragmatic. Because in this society, trying your best doesn't get you anything, anywhere. Honestly, no one gives half an arse for 'your best'. Results are what that matter the most. Efficiency. Work rate. Results. Grades.

No one gives a damn if you did poorly for the Prelims, 'S', and finally getting a 'C' for A's.

I'm sick and tired of this foolish optimism that this school follows. It is an abomination of happiness, a perverse and distorted thinking that leads to the students' downfall.

And some who are not the most analytical or stoic ones, are easily manipulated.

Sure, talk about improvements. Talk about 'encouraging tutors' or giving 'conducive environment'. I'm not sore or anything, but this is poor. Piss poor.

Tutors are pressured to produce results and some - my Physics HOD, also my tutor, for example - even give up entirely on weaker students. They are so performance-driven that they fail to spot potentials. The way the school conducts Intensive Revision (IR) and Night Study (NS) is also outrageous.

The premise behind their actions?

"We want students to stay in school because we know that even if they go home, they will not study."

Straight from the horse's mouth. Literally, horse.

This sweeping statement condemns the whole school into one cauldron of melting fail. And this vision, this 'leadership', is the one who is responsible for breaking down the whole school.

Stay back during IR to do Papers. Papers after papers.

If you just bothered to notice.

Students cannot do papers if they are not firm in their basic concepts. Thus, making students stay during IR to do papers is akin to giving up your weaker students. Of course, you will be pushing a minority of the students to the top grades, but is the opportunity cost worth it?

Rather than make everyone do papers, why not conduct theory revision? Firm up the concepts. Start from the basics. It is definitely going to yield better results than mindless 'doing of papers'.

Because, to tell you frankly, I don't really care about Jon wanting to have a gigantic cake for his mother's birthday.

Back to optimism. I believe that optimism balanced with pragmatism is the most wonderful of combos. Why? Optimism gives you the drive to want to continue your passion - or to build upon the lack thereof. While pragmatism keeps you from flying into the air and building sandcastles.

In this society, say all you want. Advocates of 'trying your best' are hypocrites. Unless you truly have potential and your best is truly your best, then yes, you have tried your best.

Also, notice how they say 'try your best'. It's akin to saying this: You have tried your best, but your best isn't enough in society. Sorry, but studying is not your forte. Perhaps you should try something else. Cooking or pottery. Maybe make a dollar or two, sure.

Of course we have to get results.

Of course some of us have to rely, or should I say, desperately depend on rote learning.

Of course some of us aren't half-arse creative at all.

Of course Singapore will not be a creative hub - not in the near future. Heck, not even in 2200, mark my words. (The world may already be destroyed by oil spills, terrorism, insane Christians threatening to burn religious books, global warming and the apocalypse. Many question Singapore's survivability once their beloved MM pass away.)

The way they seek to remedy this is in fact, hilarious.

Project Work.

It's funny how they use one sort of poison to try to annihilate another poison.

But sadly, poison effects stack. And you now have, not one, but two different poison in your body. The one that corrodes your soul by wanting results, results and results. The other further emphasising that the only outlet of creativity has also mutated into a, yes, you guessed it, result-churning fest.

Of course you see no future in everything because you're a pessimist, you say.

I would brand myself as a realist.

For now, I'm pretty happy. Although slow in progression, my pragmatic views enable me to move forward, and do some productive work.

As for the others, I hope this piece of writing has make y'all think about the consequences of Singapore's education system and the fat lady's foolish optimism.

Of course, we can't change anything at all.

And I still don't give a damn about the number of candles you have on your fat-arse cake, Jon.

JOVIal.

2010-10-11T20:58:00.003+08:00

I'm in an extremely jovial and jubilant mood today. All the confidence that - I wouldn't say disappear - have hidden themselves pretty darn well have returned. Confidence is just oozing out of me, as if I'm the best man alive.

Well, I'll be damned if I'm not. Because I'm the best that a man can get. :)

This return of confidence coincided with two things: An unexpected wake-up message from a certain 'punk'-ish friend and doing unexpectedly well in my Physics paper.

There ain't no Blues on this Monday, for I'm flying without wings! I was extremely jovial and chatty, and I kept smiling! It's a good sign, a damn good sign, people. It's a sign that I'm going to do so friggin' damn well - granted I start studying now!

I'm going to step on the pedal and accelerate! I will KILL tomorrow's Math paper.

I used to have this ability to enter an examination, be extremely precise, concise with my answers and score with flying colours. This lack of confidence in recent months have clearly killed off my mood to annihilate papers.

This time, I'm coming back.

I really am!

And what better songs to celebrate this renewed passion, this honour, this zeal than these power metal songs!

Because I'm feeling so awesome, I'm out of the world! I dearly hope this motivation stays close and dear to me; never fizzle out even if the papers are difficult!

I'm just going to have to slog it out - so fast that it appears to be magical.

And LOOK and HEAR how awesome DragonForce has became! I'm so, so, so glad that the band sobered up and decided to UNLEASH their live potential!

I'm still very upset that ZP left though. ):

Isn't power metal so orgasmic? >:)

More!!

Yes, Power Metal bands have very powerful ballads and pretty boys as well!

Finally, allow me to end off with a bang. A charge.

To die for our passion, to die for our love.

To die for metal. \m/

I love you guys! Keep on experiencing life to the fullest.

May the Gods be with you!

Espylacopa.

2010-10-06T21:23:00.004+08:00

I mustn't forget the main reason why I started this blog: to entertain.

Despite my hostile surrounding and piss-poor academic performances, I have, in the course of a meal, thought up of an interesting idea.

Which group of people would most likely survive a zombie apocalypse?

Y'know, before I go into that, I must admit that I've over-indulged in L4D2. For those who don't know, L4D2 is about zombie apocalypse, and how 4 survivors must slash and fire their way through hordes and hordes of zombies - some with unique abilities - to reach an evacuation point.

So, what are the signs of a person playing too much L4D2?

1. You start to hear sounds. Hallucination. You think you heard a Hunter's scream, or a Witch's cry, or that awesome music that plays when a tank is around. I'm serious, I've had this when I just finished a game of L4D2 at night and when I'm tired, I start to think I hear sounds.

2. You look up when walking out of tall buildings just in case a Hunter tries to do a 25 damage pounce.

3. You tend to walk away from dustbins, forklifts and cars because a Tank can instantly incapacitate you with that.

4. You spend your time in class strategizing how Special Infected should co-ordinate their attacks in Versus mode. Or what is the best place to smoke/do a 25 damage pounce.

5. Now, this one is the worse. You start to press C when you are on the computer and when you are talking to someone else. Willis called me that day and I subconsciously pressed on the C button when I was talking to him over the phone. My teammates told me they could hear my conversation and I came to realization I had been pushing the C button.

C button is the button to talk about the mike. (I talked about this before, didn't I.)

Ok, back to the question.

Which group of people would most likely survive a zombie apocalypse?

--

Group 1: The (Democratic) Politicians.

Result: Total annihilation.

They would probably be too busy bickering amongst themselves and cannot come to a general consensus. By the time they could actually get something going, chances are, their brains are all eaten.

--

Group 2: The Communists.

Result: Near total wipe-out.

Since they must ensure equality of the masses, when one person gets eaten by zombies, the rest will mindlessly follow suit. However, since the top few elite dictators probably don't give a shit for this - they only want to subjugate the masses - they'd have called for a helicopter and ran away. To Alaska or something.

--

Group 3: The Terrorists.

Result: Going out with a bang.

They are a bunch of poorly-trained ruffians. Almost like zombies, in a sense they are easily manipulated and cannot aim with a gun. Thinking that the zombies are God-sent troops to wipe out the corrupted Westerners, they attempt to join in arms with the zombies, leading to their downfall.

--

Group 4: The Samurais.

Result: Survival.

Because they are so epicly awesome with the katana, they can totally kick epic zombie arse. A well-made katana, in accordance to the Japanese Anime Rules, will not, however much you use it, be blunt or rust. It may be true in some sense, but that is another factor.

They will never run out of ammo. Neither will they starve because they are very disciplined and can endure tough situations.

Oh, their katana must be huge-arse big and long as well. The bigger and longer, the higher the chances of survival. Survival is almost guaranteed if you're an emo teenage that has spikey, golden hair. Or if you're a hot-arse sexy high school girl who is in the Kendo club.

--

Group 5: 80's Metal Band.

Result: Varied.

By and large, metalheads don't need zombies to kill them; they consume so much alcohol and drugs that it's sufficient to make an entire farm of rabbits go high.

However, some elite members of the metal brigade may just survive. This is due to them having very special abilities. For example, one particular guitarist has claimed that he can play at a time signature of 69/42 and that he can time-travel. Another claimed that "if he played any faster, your minds will all be blown off".

Those who will die from the zombie apocalypse are probably those who do drugs and drink too much. Or maybe those who play shit music, like Axl Rose.

--

Group 6: The Spartans.

Result: Survival.

Heck, they're Spartans, for goodness' sake. One spartan can take an average of 66,304 zombies at one go. Nevermind hostile conditions, they can survive anything.

Come zombie apocalypse, nuclear winter or the new Justin Bieber album, the Spartans can survive anything. And by anything, I mean anything.

--

Group 7: The gamers.

Result: Varied.

The experience they get from slaying zombies, dragons, terrorists and etc. online has given them valuable experience on what to do and what not to do during a zombie apocalypse.

Most of the deaths would come from friendly fires. After looting a departmental store, some would 'ninja' the loots, resulting in the team leaving them to die or shooting them in the face.

Newbs also are not excluded in the to-kill list, often frustrating teammates and all.

--

Group 8: Muggers.

Result: Death.

What do you expect? They mug day in, day out. And they're not afraid, to have to mug, everybody, come mug together. They'll mug their work together, through the storm, whatever weather, cold or warm. They all know that they're not alone.

So they'll mug while zombies munch on their knowledge-crammed brains.

--

Group 9: Pacifists.

Result: Obliteration.

Although some may be descendants of Samurais, they have given up the Bushido in favour of hugging trees, making peace and being silly.

They attempt to reason and appeal to the zombies' emotions, or lack of, and in their attempt, everything just fails and they get eaten.

Heck, they don't even attempt to retaliate as they staunchly believe that we do not live in a world where only the fittest survival.

Peace out.

--

You know it'll eventually boil down to this.

Group 10: Singaporean Students.

Result: Survival.

If you can survive the A's, you can survive any friggin' thing.

--

That's all for tonight, cheers!

Operation Ground and Pound.

2010-10-04T22:59:00.002+08:00

Ok.

I've decided.

To aim for.

A.

Bachelor in Fine Arts.

In Interactive Media.

This is it. I'm going to score straight A's to be eligible for NTU's Design School.

Do or die.

Oh and my biggest thanks to Dan for being such an awesome person by encouraging me and providing pragmatic solutions to all problems in life.

This is one of the rare times I'm actually motivated by someone who is optimistic. Because, y'know, unlike many of you out there, Dan is optimistic AND realistic. This fills me with hope. Because when one has the right balance of idealism and pragmatism, then everything is possible.

Only there and then, will everything be possible.

I have something to fight for now.

Watch me fly.

Crossroads.

2010-10-04T22:05:00.005+08:00

PS. Sorry, click on this link to help me out!

CLICK ME!

I realised you cannot frag each other. And you must REGISTER to be counted. Now, this is some serious bullshit.

---

There goes my Bachelor in Game Design.

I was posted to Nanyang Polytechnic for Digital Media Design in Games.

My predication was right: Digipen would open just in time after I graduated from Poly. I would be working on something that I love and have interest in.

Instead of facing alien algebra, complicated formulas which don't mean anything and a handful of failure grades. I could be doing more. So much more.

Yet another critical point in life where I've made a misinformed and life-changing decision. I don't like making decisions, there is this risk you have to take. To risk getting your life screwed.

I guess applying for TPJC at the last day was a thoroughly bad idea.

I couldn't care less what happens at TPJC. It's yet another marred experience.

You want me to take positives? Well, maybe, IF I graduate into a local University. And IF I somehow grow a love for studies which I currently do not have.

I often find myself thinking, "I could've done this, I could've done that."

What matters is, I have ALREADY done this. Like it or not, I have to carry on with life.

Currently, I am not that optimistic.

In fact, I absolutely abhor the fact that I'm grounded in TPJC.

Perhaps, I'll enter this mess in a head-strong manner. Perhaps get a Bachelor in Business or Sociology. Perhaps, just try my best to make this life work.

It's never too late. Will I ever get to design games? I am afraid not.

Should I discard my 2 years in JC and go back to Poly? I do not know. I am seriously contemplating this route.

It's like God coming down, laughing at you. He says, "Either way, your life is screwed."

I could make sure with a happy pill. A pure dosage of optimism. Or something which will make my life less screwed.

I dearly hope I will not come to a stage where I will rue my decisions in life.

Now, it's all just hope and chances.

I don't like leaving things to chances.

Make it work. Damnit.

Razer!

2010-10-03T20:46:00.002+08:00

Y'know, Razer's really good in their advertisements. They are giving out 1337 packs of freebies to people who have at least 10 people 'fragged'. You gain frag by having people click on your unique link.

So help me out over here and click on this link! (Register yourself too, so you stand to win something.)

---

Something funny happened today. Willis called me. And I was playing L4D2.

I told him, "Eh, you guys don't need me to study, right? So it doesn't really matter whether I turn up or if I'm late." And then I went on to explain why my presence isn't needed. While holding on my ALL-TALK key with my mike on. What the heck!

It's like, I'm so used to holding the ALL-TALK when I play in-game, so when I talk on my phone, I ALSO hold down the ALL-TALK.

Habits ah, habits.

Something game-related to share.

Oh, and 6-pool rush is cheap.

Kartolosaurus.

2010-09-27T23:24:00.002+08:00

I'm not going to hit the panic button.

I've never been an optimistic person; I'm a perfectionist, an elitist, and always see the glass as, well, neither half full or half empty. It's just a damn glass and its purpose is to hold liquids. That's that.

Call it cynicism, or arrogance - both would suit my fairly well.

I've realised that the longer I spend my life on this earth, the harder life becomes. As time spent increases, troubles tend towards infinity, just to throw in my own take on one particular book I've come to appreciate. But let it be known that only as life becomes harder, does it actually become sweeter.

One doesn't understand sweet until one tastes bitter. Simple as that.

But believe you me, I've never been one who's easy to motivate - I'm sure people around me know how lazy and/or happy-go-lucky I am. I have never believed in 'motivational' speeches - those optimistic speakers are really just crazy people who are, well, overly-optimistic. For some reason, motivational speakers irk me. Motivational messages irk me. Y'know, I'm kind of like that grumpy old man... that old stingy guy from that Christmas story.

Optimism disgusts me. I'm, for most of the time, neutral, tending towards pessimism. This is what I do. I break down events and calculate probability of success. And most of the time, I amplify the probability of a failure, so as to better prepare myself for any - if any occurs at all. But I bore you. There are better things to do in life than to prepare one for the worse.

I must, however, be consistently aware that pessimism does not equate to pragmatism. They do say that in order to be successful, one hopes for the best and prepares for the worse. That said, I've only done the former.

I've known all along that if I want to achieve something. Anything. The best person to get the job done is myself. I'll admit. I'm lazy. I always delegate stuff to other people - sometimes not so rightfully so.

But this time, I must count on myself. Motivation is something that strives from within. What I've been searching for is inspiration. In order to succeed, one must both have motivation and inspiration. That sudden spark to ignite that burning passion.

If I were to muse over the 5 'W's in my life.

Why am I studying - or at least attempting to study: To be able to do whatever the heck I want in the future as having a good degree in at least SOMETHING will allow me to earn money, thus enabling me to do whatever I want.

The other 'W's are not as significant.

My motto in life is simple: Achieve maximum success with minimum effort. It's my maxim of some sort - a lazy person's maxim.

I am always on the look out for elegance and class. For simplistic answers to complicated and complex questions. There are no rough edges, just smooth, rounded curves. Economy of movements; no wasted space nor extra fidgeting.

Yes. It's high time I've regain this competitive edge. To sharpen that motivation. In order to 'kill' the papers. I will, within a month's time, develop this skill to totally annihilate papers.

Because I don't ever want to face Maths or Physics - if possible - ever in my life.

Because I want to be able to do music. To design. To do art. To love. To live.

Because failing my A's when I've been aimlessly wandering for 18 years just ain't worth it.

As I type this post, I am feeling this vibe. This vibe that has long eluded me, but has finally came back. This aura of serenity, of calm and yet of burning passion.

I'm back.

And hell, it's about time.

2010-09-26T21:58:00.000+08:00

I declare a state of emergency.

When nothing - and I mean nothing - can motivate me, then I really have no friggin' goddamn idea what to do anymore.

Music doesn't help.

Stress doesn't help.

Friends don't help.

What do I have left?

Damn this.

Save The King.

2010-09-25T09:48:00.002+08:00

I woke up in the morning and I'm greeted by an offline message which made my day.

"You remind me a lot of Bartender" - Hao.

Granted the realities of life sans the passionate romanticism of a 'non-mainstream' job, bartending is actually, in my opinion, pretty tough.

First of all, Singaporeans aren't great drinkers. The kids only know how to club - and by that, I don't really mean dance. - and the uncles certainly do enjoy a beer or two in nearby kopitiams.

Of course, a bartender shouldn't be an elitist. He or she offers remedy to any and everyone.

Not to say that there aren't people who don't enjoy wine and dine here.

That would be the middle to upper class people who have the financial support to lavish on the finer lifestyles.

Offer me a course in bartending or a permanent job as a bartender, I'd take it up any day.

Okay, alternative routes aside, I'm really disappointed with myself.

What can I say, grabbing 3 Us for all my H2 subjects is just deplorable. Granted, I didn't put in the best efforts in studying and revising, but surely my - supposed - intelligence can proper me to greater heights?

I will be committed to studying. It's a matter turning from rags to riches. From straight Us to straight As. I believe that this task will be arduous, albeit not impossible. Given my superior intelligence, I certainly will be able to handle any task - if I had been willing to put my heart and mind to it.

---

I went off to play and this post will be resumed at 10pm. Well, United just had their third consecutive draw this season - undefeated, mind you. Still, their performances with middle/bottom table teams irk me.

Anyway.

I've decided.

I'm going to start to study. To work my arse off.

No, not just empty talk.

Hopefully.

I'd give a penny to anyone who can positively influence and motivate me.

Bah. I'm seriously demotivated.

Feels so... full of void. I know I haven't been putting in effort. All these slight glimpses of creativity seem to fall short of my expected results.

It's almost as frustrating as watching United draw thrice. Or maybe worse.

The solution is elusive. The problem only multiples.

God, save the King.

Red Devils.

2010-09-19T23:42:00.002+08:00

En Taro, Tassadar!

It's 12 midnight now, and I think I'm going off for some well-deserved sleep soon. Anyway, today has been absolutely splendid. Nothing went wrong. Everything was under control, things went well and boy, am I buoyed.

I'm totally :)) already.

First of all, I, for the first time in a while, did 2 hours of Physics revision. Admittedly, it was under the supervision of a tutor. But at least I did something, even if it's not enough to cover the whole of tomorrow's MCQ. I have a month's time to start firing off my cylinders and score my straight A's.

So, I was tired after 2 hours of Physics and went to nap. More like I was nap-attacked while I lay down on my bed.

Thankfully, I woke up at 5. And I remembered I had to go dinner with my brothers!

So everything went well, everyone was there, nice and dandy and I even had time to shop at Suntec's Carrefour! Lavished a Royce Champagne on myself and bought some chips for United vs Liverpool tonight.

After walking, like, 4 rounds around the Fountain of Wealth, we finally decided to eat at MOF (Ministry of Food). Ok, MOF is, at most, on par with Ichiban Boshi. Perhaps I'm slightly biased; Boshi is nearer and the swordfish sashimi is fabulous.

No pictures 'cos, y'know, 6 guys don't really take pictures. Perhaps I should, next time. Spent about $24, but it was well worth the money - a unagi hot-pot with a salmon sashimi bento.

Well, we're full, good dinner, fantastic company.

Tried to go catch come United vs Liverpool. But sadly, Mac didn't have any TV screens. Bleh.

But on our way, we chanced upon an F1/Singtel booth thingy to promote the F1 race.

And YAY! There we have it: United vs Liverpool at the 30th minute. Sadly, the booth had to close and we could watch for, like, 10 minutes of action.

Glad I was there though; the race girls were gorgeous. :)

So we all bade farewell and went our separate ways.

And I ran home the moment I alighted from my bus.

I sprinted like I would in a 100m dash.

And to catch United 2-2 was, well, slightly disappointing. Even more so when we were up 2-0 and we just had to have that oh-so-disgusting implosion. A lack of concentration and defensive mistakes meant Gerrard could catch up 2 goals in 2 minutes. If they drew, my wonderful day would've been ruined.

But deep in my mind, it felt like it was deja-vu.

I knew United were going to be up 3-2 when I reached home.

And by the Gods, were United up 3-2.

To the almighty Übertov. Amazing Bulgarian with his lovely touches and headers. Not to mention that bicycle kick - which I missed.

Going to catch highlights.

All in all, fantastic day.

I only wished more days were like this; then I'd be really inspired to start writing out some good posts.

Y'all miss my awesome posts, right?

>:)

7x7.

2010-09-13T22:11:00.003+08:00

Even the best go down some times.

But this is no time for me to be down.

C'mon, Jovi. Even a genius needs to slog; no matter how fast or magical it looks on the outside, a genius still needs to slog.

The mystical number. 49.

So often featured in 武侠 films. "要是你不在七七四十九天内，你就会死。"

Well, if I don't slot my guts out for this 49 days, I'll most definitely live to regret it.

I dub this as the Jovi Paradox. I definitely know the consequences and all, yet there still lacks the motivation.

I wonder when I've became such a cynical person - it disgusts myself.

I want that feel of creativity, of fantasy.

To be able to live in music, grab swords and slay dragons.

Perhaps it's about time I pick up an MMO. It's been a long, long time since I've indulged in a good MMO with a wonderful community.

I'm not trying to stereotype or denigrate anyone, but I really feel that gap in intelligence when I find myself in a community that has, say, not too good qualifications. Nevertheless, there are still good people around; it's just that awkward feeling when you're the only few JC students playing a game mostly dominated by young adults, Malaysians and Poly students. Yes, L4D2.

I yearn for a MMO-like community; it's always fantastic to play in a guild, a sense of belonging.

Ok, I blabbered on too much.

Can't believe I'm running a fever at this time.

More reason for me to put off studying.

When too much disasters have piled up, one just cease to care anymore. Don't even bother to take preventive measures.

So much for prevention is better than cure. That teaching will have no bearings on someone who self-inflicts damage, right? In that case, the motive to self-inflict damage would nullify prevention.

But what's the point, hah.

I'm rambling too much. Goddamn fever.

I am positively sure that I've flunked my prelims.

I can't be bothered anymore.

I surrender to the fact that I'm overwhelmed by what I don't understand and I fear to try to understand what I don't due to this fear of failure.

What am I going to do with my life.

Maybe I'll go back to kicking arse.

2010-09-12T00:14:00.003+08:00

"One isn't dead when one is lifeless. One is dead when he ceases to feel. To be able to break free from the constricting appendages of apathy - that is what I seek. To be alive once more."

Bane.

2010-09-11T02:01:00.002+08:00

I've been thinking about the reason why I haven't been able to write good posts - those that are inspirational and thoughtful.

Well, I've had a few. One of 'em is that if I can't handle my own damn problems, I obviously will find it hard to start to think, to write. If my own problems go around unsolved, floating like spectres of the past, then my creativity will undoubtedly dull. The mind slows.

It's not just a few problem. It's a myriad of problems. Ranges far and wide.

One specific problem I'm having - and perhaps the greatest - is the inability to motivate myself. Y'know, I've spent the whole September holidays gaming. Waking up at 11am, gaming 'til 2 or 3am in the morning. Rise and repeat for 7 whole days. I haven't touch a single book.

I feel guilty every night. But after every morning, it's just "One more day". It's a vicious process.

Now, secondly, I realise my existence is quite a bane to some people. No, not that 'emo' sort of way nor have I offended people - knowingly or otherwise - but it just feels that way. Especially ladies. Ha ha.

Being a single man is the best. I've realised why some men choose to be bachelors. But I shaln't go on on this, because, well, everyone's entitled to their own opinions.

As for myself, I won't use the word 'should'. I'll be using something more absolute.

I WILL study. Today.

I WILL put that damned book down to revise.

I won't need any motivation.

Although it's better if some cute girl would ask me out for a study date, I wouldn't mind.

Until then, keep massing Marines, Medics and Marauders for the epic Terran win.

Life is just that unfair. :D

Wings of Liberty.

2010-09-10T00:27:00.002+08:00

If the title of this post didn't ring a bell, this picture should. Yes, this post will be dedicated to the game that had every single (Korean) soul in the universe waiting and waiting - for the past 12 years.

And finally, it's out. Just to be cliche: Hell, it's about time.

About time indeed, when I finally broke through my willpower to finally start downloading Starcraft II: Wings of Liberty and spend my 2 days of mid-Prelims 'holidays' on this piece of baby.

Without further adieu, let's get down to this game review.

First of all, I am pretty disappointed at how this game has came through. Given that Blizzard had made us wait for 12 years for it. And this is how it came out?!

A few of the areas that can be looked at when reviewing a game:

1. Graphics. Totally stunning. Every single minute detail can be seen in game. The physics of the game is impeccable as well; a plethora of animation makes every single battle feel as if it's a different one altogether. The cinematics are breath-taking as well. A few notable AMVs are those with action, fighting scenes. So far, Starcraft II, in my opinion, is the best graphically-intensive game made by Blizzard. Yes, I'm sure Diablo III will exceed expectations, but yeah. (Did that remind you of PW?)

Some complaints though. I think the loading screen is terribly bland. I really hate that loading bar; it's not... smooth. It's like moving in solid chunks, so it's a bit sore to the eye.

And Blizzard, damn you, because I knew this was going to happen. The icons, the log-in menu, the sound when you execute the game... it was WoW-esque. Terrible, terrible, terrible.

2. Music. This is disappointing. I'm not sure if it's my pirated version, but I really loved Starcraft I's music. The cheesy Terran sounds, the awesome ambiance and all. Otherwise, the realistic battle sounds, collision sounds and death cries are good ol' Blizzard-style.

But really, I felt as though something was lacking. Something... old-school. Something that will give players a nostalgic 'Starcraft I' sensation. Like I said, the menu BGM is terrible: It's like WoW.

3. Gameplay. What more can I say? Starcraft is Starcraft. What I really loved on Blizzard part was to integrate some of their RPG elements into a RTS game. It gave the characters a lot more depth and this boosts playability. The multiple routes of the Zerg/Protoss upgrades and the storyline expansion are really good additions; fine-tuning a game to make it newer and better, the Blizzard way.

Campaigns are no longer so dreadfully long - one used to be able to spend two to three hours on earlier campaigns made by Blizzard. There is a mix of stealth, defense and offense operations with a wide-range of objectives. Also, the way they integrate newbie-advanced level is seamless as well; you don't get thrown off to fend off 2493 zerglings all at once. Well, at least not at the first few missions.

One mission I loved was that Zerathul solo mission. And the cinematic (not to be spoiled) is fantastic as well. Reminded me of Vincent Valentine, albeit a black one. :D

Increased playability, good missions, but I still feel... the story to be a bit short. And cliched. It doesn't feel too epic. Granted, it has that Starcraft-vibe to it, but it just didn't feel AWESOME. Like, when Diablo I came out, the storyline was amazing. When Warcraft III came out, the storyline, although rehashed, was STILL amazing. Now, it feels as if it's... lacking something. Hopefully Heart of the Swarm promises something better.

Hmm, what else... I guess in general, that's it! You'll have to play it, to feel it.

As for Battle.net... Sad to say, I ain't got the original version, i.e., no Battle.net. Because Blizzard thought they haven't earn enough cash from World of Moneycraft and we have to pay $109 for a game that we've waited for so long, and that they've decided to take away LAN altogether.

I wouldn't expect much from Battle.net.

Competitive online gaming with real, human, opponents is one thing.

Having a new, fully-modded community is another.

I'm for both.

That still, I think that what will make B.net a success will be the modding community.

I can already smell the DotA, Angel Arena, Anime Fight, Tower Defenses cooking. It's going to be really awesome, this B.net. That said, I don't think it will have any wow-factor. (No pun intended.) It won't be, like, explosive or new. It'll just be same ol' B.net. Like the good ol' days.

One thing to note though. I hear that RPG-mods for SCII is going to be awesome: Wait for the Final Fantasy ones, I've researched and it is quite goddamn good. :)

Ok!

I guess that's all for a review. I actually wanted to do a more in-depth one, but I can't be damned to give a good review. Probably due to my lack of writing capabilities - Oh, inferiority, inferiority.

Anyways, it's Friday. I really should start studying.

I will promise to sit my sorry arse out of my PC, and DO SOME WORK.

Goddamnit, because if I don't, I'm going to fail my A's. And boy, will I be in real shit then.

So, that's all for now.

I guess I can't churn out good, thoughtful posts anymore. I wonder what's wrong with me.

Tag me on the tagboard to give me some encouragement, won't y'all? :D

Twiddle.

2010-09-06T01:05:00.004+08:00

Y'know what, guys?

I think I'll sit myself down, shrug off all the troubles that are engulfing me right now, and post one thoughtful post. I think I've had quite enough filler posts, and definitely, more can be done to make this blog a more readable one.

What's today's topic, then?

Give it a guess. It's 1.08am in the morning.

A cool, thin veil of mist hangs itself around a rustic, yet enchanting colonial house. The lone, white tower erects out visibly amongst the sparse forest, as if it were a lighthouse, for this island lies along the sea route from Lutorien to Brofindel. The White Mare has been shrouded with mystery; no one knew who built this mansion atop the lonely isle, and even the current owner refuses to talk about the past.

Nevertheless, The White Mare serves as a welcomed stop for weary sailors - the treacherous seas of Misendale have claimed the lives of many sailors. Yet, no cloud nor squall can stop the adventurers or the traders. Cool ale is a must-have for inns and as strangely situated The White Mare is, high-quality Bruskendian ale is readily available. Being able to cater to both Lutians and Findelians have been the pulling factor of this inn.

What sailors wouldn't give for fantastic ale, awesome company and a good bed?

But alas. This merry-making in The White Mare is not to be.

Ever since the sea route became more and more dangerous due to ravaging pirates, the merchants and adventurers are opting for a safer, but almost twice as long, route. The route through the Forest Of Equindor, passing through the magnificent Great Swash Lake and then finally to Lutorien.

What do we have of The White Mare now? Lesser and lesser business. The inns along the Great Swash Lake have heard rumours that the owner of The White Mare has gone missing ever since the inn closed. Hearsay doesn't matter - if every piece of information passed around inns were to be closely scrutinized, then one may not be surprised that the end of this task is inconceivable!

Little do the people know that a sinister shadow is lurking in the corners, biding its time, and that only a select few can stop this evil...

---

Okay, I wanted to stop, but yeah, how's that for a cheesy introduction to a fantasy-themed writing? :D

It's wonderful to live in a fantasy. That said, when do we have to draw the line between fantasy and reality?

Of course, I'm betting my dollar that almost, if not all of us, would prefer to live a Tolkienesque life than a cosmopolitan life. I wouldn't speak for all, but I'd definitely give up a car for a horse, a condominium for a thatched hut, a gun for a sword and, well, you get the point.

Why are we slogging our guts out in this mega-consumerist society where intelligence is more or less based on how well you actually perform - and regurgitate facts - in one single test?

Are you smarter than a fifth grader?

Yes, you are. But you don't really know or can remember the stuff you learn in college - they are more than often irrelevant and simply inapplicable in modern age. What we do is to specialize in our field of knowledge, and therefore master only a specific discipline.

I'm not saying general education is pointless - I just don't get that fire in my guts to do work.

Ok! This is 4 days wasted on pure gaming.

I'm going to start to study on Wednesday, which is tomorrow. I swear.

So much for my thoughtful post; the thought died out after I went to sleep.

HAHAHA. Going to go for more ting ting ting before Wednesday comes. :)