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Saturday, September 25, 2004 I'm back! Ha, bet no one knew I was away, but I actually hopped over to Genting for 3 days! It was a wonderful holiday, 6 of us from my platoon fled the chaos of the archery range that is my office and had a great time soaking "natural air-conditioning". We played a lot, ate a lot, slept a lot. I had my first look inside a casino, which was a thrilling adventure in itself, having to bull my way in since I was still underage (but just barely underage, therefore I feel no guilt). I came back feeling much better than before I left. Only regret -- eating like there's no tomorrow is no way to prepare for the half-marathon tomorrow. Oops. Dark thoughts threatened to consume me once in a while. The world is smaller than one thinks, yet not that small after all. So many mutual friends, yet I've never met them during my roams outside. Or maybe because I wasn't looking, because I didn't dare look too hard? Whatever it is, they're probably happy, and it's no longer any business of mine. So I wouldn't plummet back into that chasm of self-destruction and constant day-dreaming. Yay. Monday, September 20, 2004 I intended to launch into a tirade, to rant and rave and rail down the walls of Troy. I ran through the script once in my head and felt better after that. But fear not, you do not deserve the tirade, it is after all not your fault. But it's not really the fault of the guy who make me so furious, either. So I'll keep my rant to myself, and not pollute the air with my foul words. Anyway, ranting will only make me feel good for the short instant before I begin to feel guilty. Why is it that people do not bother to praise the things I do right, but find every chance to complain about the things I do wrong? I am like that sometimes, myself, but I am aware of that and I'm still trying to change. I believe one has no right to unabashedly criticise another unless one is convinced that he cna do it better. In which case, he should just do it, and save the criticism. Because everyone can see for himself, whether he likes it or not, and actions speak louder than words. At the very least, criticism should be constructive. Therefore on hindsight I have every right to feel aggrieved. Because I was subjected to something I would never do to anybody else. I would never offer blatant criticism of what went wrong, unless I think the person ain't aware that he is wrong. I would never offer criticism without being constructive. I would never offer that criticism in front of others, for I know that would shame the person and embarrass the others. If I ever do so to any of you, you have the right to give me a tight slap. Therefore, I would not be the silent victim of such an assault. Oops, have I ranted? Oh, bemoan the impulsiveness of men, who let their emotions control their actions! I am angry. Justifiably, I feel. Although I do regret what I did say in a moment of anger and embarrassment. No, I did not insult him in return. I said, "If you think you can do a better job, you're welcome to take over." Meaning that he has no right to criticise me unless he thinks he can do better, and if he thought so I dared him to prove it. I'd already seen once how that statement would result in utter defeat and speechlessness for the one who spoke it. Even a rant would have achieved a better effect. I should have said sorry, and let it go, of course, but I was sick and tired of being sorry for trying my best, for doing jobs beyond my job scope, for putting effort beyond what is needed, for suffering in silence with no show of gratitude, no word of thanks. The least I needed was criticism. My PC was nice enough not to scold me, so what makes him think he has the right? Oops, I did it again. Sadly I am most prolific in writing when I'm caught by negative emotions. I have taken happiness for granted, that is why unhappiness makes me even more unhappy, until I am caught up by this vicious cycle that eats inside of me and makes me lose control of myself. Whew. I think I'll feel better after dinner. Sunday, September 05, 2004 I confess, I can't read supernatural thrillers without looking over my shoulder every ten seconds. But Dean Koontz is such a wonderful writer. I have been so quiet for the past couple of weeks, but I'm fine. Life the same, busy as ever at work, peaceful as ever on weekends. However, even the tortoise peeks out of its shell from time to time, and at 2am this morning I had sudden nostalgia for ICQ, for the happy-frantic feeling of simultaneously talking to half a dozen people at once, sometimes till unearthly hours when the moon is well on her way to the other side of the world. As a matter of fact, I've not touched my ICQ since I enlisted in the army one and a half years ago. Before that, even. I hear it's no longer the preferred chat medium. MSN Messenger is taking over. I have a presence there as well, courtesy of my hotmail account. But no, I don't use it either. For a man of my stature (I'm shaped like a bamboo pole) I have surprising inertia. Of the mental kind. There is a staggering time lapse between when I decide to do something and when it gets done. That's why I'm haven't started my driving lessons, my exercise regime, haven't asked anybody out for drinks or dinner, haven't written Friendster testimonials, haven't wired up my new computer to the net, haven't tidied my junk pile/compost heap, haven't blogged until now. Oops. By the way, here's an amusing comic strip I'd like to share. 
I've also updated the quote at the top. Been neglecting that for a long time already. Sorry. |
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