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Saturday, June 30, 2007 I enjoy bubbly once in a while, too. Happy birthday. =) Friday, June 29, 2007    Thursday, June 28, 2007  In the heart there exists a metropolis. A plot of land for each person you've ever known. On some plots are built towering skyscrapers (earthquake proof of course), solid pillars that seem to prop up the sky. Yet others are grandoise: palaces of marble and ivory, rich and radiant. And the plots of colour and excitement: theme parks and fun fairs, fireworks every night, filled with laughter and joy. And the cosy suburban plots, of warmth and comfort: a warm fire in winter, and a shining light in spring, beacons for the weary and the lost. But there are also plots of land, that are rank with weeds. Abandoned houses with half a roof. Mounds of rubble where towers once stood; hollow halls where grandoise webs spread across once-grandoise pillars. Worse still are the barren deserts, where even grass refuses to grow. Wastelands of death and decay. Scariest of all are the places where crevasses are papered over, where rotting walls are whitewashed, to make our daily journeys through our heart's metropolis less distressing, less painful. We sometimes forget and place our foot on the paper and it rips and we plunge into the chasm. Or we lean against the rotting wall and it gives way and the house collapses on us. But is paper and paint all we can do? Is there no choice but to let things fester and spread, and turn everything into a wasteland? And all the while just pretend it isn't happening, that everything is fine and dandy, only to be shocked and dismayed when the ground gives way beneath us? Maybe, for every plot of land in our metropolis, a twin that is its mirror lies in another metropolis. And it takes more than one person to develop it, or even just to fix cracks. Just like it takes more than one hand to clap, and more than one player for, uh, Old Maid. I am poised to clap. Are you? We could, of course, extend this analogy further. What if, the developers on the mirrored plots are holding different blueprints? Each tears down what the other builds, trying in vain to build their own version of paradise. Like two hands that try to clap but do not meet, then there is still no sound. Then how long, before the developers give up, and go develop someplace else? How long before the hands give up and flop limply to the sides? I think I've gone quite far enough with this. It's time to get some sleep. Tuesday, June 26, 2007  塔罗牌 - F.I.R. 女巫os: Guess you never really know him in these days The spell of distance between your hearts, it never goes away. Time to give up. Time to fall deeper. Let me choose one, right now. 共二十二张的纸牌 它道尽了人生百态 流传几百个年代 从埃及印度被传开 直到现在 倒吊人代表着牺牲 女祭司充满着智慧 那月亮是潜意识的梦想 oh~指点迷津的塔罗牌 相信的人不安被它解开 它预言了种种未来 却改变不了注定的悲哀 多无奈塔罗牌 该不该 抽下张牌 你情愿自己主宰 或交给命运去安排 魔术师创造新开始 太阳就意谓着能量 那命运之轮不停循环 I started believing in tarot that day L did a reading for me. It was a simple one -- 3-card tarot, the 1st card is the past, the 2nd card is the present, and the 3rd card is the future. What are the chances of picking, 3 times, the card that reflected the real world so accurately? But, some would say, the cards represent such broad themes, that it's not hard at all to make it fit reality. My counter to that is, there were so many other cards that would have required some really convoluted reasoning. Heck, all I had to do was pick the cards I picked, but upside down (which means the meaning will be opposite). Plus, I'm no lawyer, I can't argue black into white. ;-) Still, just because the cards are accurate doesn't mean doing exactly what it says. Tarot, just like any other advisor, human or otherwise, should be listened to, and its advice taken into consideration. After all the meaning of the cards is open to interpretation, and misinterpretation. That's why, I think it helps to have someone else perform the reading for you, and to interpret it for you as well. Just like L did for me. Being a neutral party he was more likely to give an objective interpretation of what the cards really mean. But the chorus of the song really hit the nail on the head. 你情愿自己主宰, 或交给命运去安排? Sometimes a reading is more trouble than it's worth, turning decisions on their head, making you question anew, and doubt anew, and give chances where none should be given. Why allow anything to do that? Make a decision, based on the facts that are available, based on the best judgement, then stick by it. Once that's done, there's no need to seek divine affirmation/approval/endorsement. [tangent] After all, as occurred to me on the car just now, a man must have the courage to make a decision, and to follow it through fully, and not change lanes halfway then end up straddling two lanes. If you don't change lanes, the car behind you might get pissed with you. If you change lanes, the car behind you on the other lane might get pissed. But if you do the half-f**ked thing and straddle two lanes, BOTH cars WILL get really pissed with you. [/tangent] King of Wands - Page of Wands - Ace of Cups The Hermit - The Fool - The World 2 very similar readings, both symbolising a new beginning, and the promise of light at the end of the tunnel. Does that make it more believable, more accurate? Sunday, June 24, 2007  It will come as a relief to some To know that I have had enough I have broken many vases And have sunk many ships And for all that, I'm sorry. Friday, June 22, 2007 Courage is not confronting what other people fear. Courage is confronting one's own fears, when one has the option to run away. In extreme circumstances, a man can be forced to confront even his worst fears. If he then conquers it, he becomes stronger, as my BMT platoon commander used to say, 'What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.' But, what if, he fails? Tuesday, June 19, 2007 Been watching Fullmetal Alchemist.. The 4th ending song is really, really good, so I'm posting the lyrics here, and it's got 2nd spot on my playlist. Motherland 鋼の錬金術師ED4 作曲 YANAGIMAN 作詞 H.U.B 唄 Crystal Kay
Monday, June 18, 2007 JQ: what cheating? Tell story then more entertaining mah. =P Anyway people reading my blog when I'm around ain't weird, what'll be really weird is if I was watching them read it.. haha. Anyway, for your sake and for the sake of anyone else who, like me, have the habit of reading in between the lines in between the lines (no this ain't a typo): 以下故事 纯属虚构 如有雷同 纯属巧合. Seriously la, I've taken so many liberties with the facts (if you can call them that) in order to make the story coherent that it's better to read it as no more than a silly little fable. Anyway as I wrote the story I was thinking of my 2 terrapins, Donatello and Leonardo (yeah it's cliche but I was 7), and how, every morning, Donatello would crawl out of her home (half a small 5-litre jerry can), out of the toilet and into the kitchen, and nose my father's foot to remind him to feed them. Sometimes she'd come and nose me, too. I used to tell them things, things that I don't even tell my best friend, and they'd nod as though they understood what I was saying. My hammie dears are cute and wonderful little buggers but I'll always miss my terrapins. =( Half day off tomorrow! Even though I enjoy going to the office and having breakfast and lunch with the guys and chatting and playing Desktop TD and all the other sometimes crazy stuff we do. But, I'll really cherish my extra hour of sleep =) AP report: Tainted foods are a daily problem in Asia It's scary, what men will do to fellow men, just for the sake of money. Do they understand the consequences? What kind of man does it take, to do such things knowing full well that people will die because of it? There once lived a young tortoise, who had an adventurer's soul. He travelled the world at a plodding pace, nosing anything that caught his fancy. He's been up in the mountains and down in the plains, he's seen a lot and nose a lot (pardon the pun). There came a day, as he was plodding happily through the hills, when a fragrance reached his nose. This was something new, and smelled nice, so he followed the scent until he came to a lily. He's seen mountains, and he's seen forests, but this was the first time he'd seen the lily, and he was enchanted. So he did what he always does to a new thing: he tried to nose it. Suddenly, a wasp sprang out of the lily, buzzing angrily. Quick as a flash, it stung the tortoise right on the nose. "Ow, ow!" cried the tortoise. Instinctively, he shrank back into its shell. The wasp buzzed angrily, looking for another opening. The tortoise trembled in his shell and wept from the pain, and did what tortoises were best at: he waited. As night fell, the wasp went away. The tortoise poked his legs out and stood, but left his head deep inside the shell. Stifling his sobs, he staggered away. For a long time the tortoise travelled thus, staggering about with his head in his shell, not seeing where he was going and not caring. He bumped into a lot of things, but as long as he kept a slow pace it was fine. One day, as he was staggering in the plains (where, he figured, there was less chance of bumping into things), a smell wafted through his throbbing nostrils and straight into his brain. Yet another fragrance, full of sparkle, mystery and wonder. And promise. Unconsciously, his feet led him towards the source of this amazing fragrance, but after two steps he stopped, sat down heavily. The memory of what happened the last time he followed a fragrance was still fresh on his mind (and on his nose). But he really wanted to find out, what was this wonderful thing that is setting off all sorts of fireworks inside his head, so he stood, and staggered slowly towards the source of the smell. He took a step, then another, then got pricked on his third. Quick as a flash he was back in his shell again, with a stinging leg. But this was not the sting of a wasp, and did not hurt as badly -- maybe it was just a sharp pebble, or a splinter of wood, or in other words, nothing to worry about. So, thought the tortoise, let's give it another try, shall we? Carefully, he stood up again, and began taking hesitant steps yet again. Step, step, step, *PRICK*. Our young tortoise doesn't know this, but he's stepped into a nice big patch of mimosa. Being the adventurous sort, he's gone so deep in that it's going to be painful whether he goes in or tries to come out. With his head still firmly embedded inside his shell, he has no idea whether it's less pain to carry on, or to turn tail and go look elsewhere. He doesn't even know if it'll be worth it at the end, or whether there're any stinging insects waiting for him there. He's thinking that, maybe it'll be best to just sit still, wait for the nose to heal fully, then stick his head out to take a good look before deciding. But maybe the flower will be gone by then, never to come back again. What do you think? Sunday, June 17, 2007 I had a poem in my head, but I've forgotten enough of it to make it not worth writing down.. That's what happens when I think in places without readily available recording material. Like in the shower. How much can we salvage, from the wrecks in the sea of memory and time? How fast can we bail the sinking ships, holed by the cannonballs of Foolishness and Sloth, of Idiocy and Apathy? How do we patch these gaping wounds? And how do we dodge those deadly cannonballs, that threaten to turn the sea into a sea of death? In games, when we make a mistake we can just start over. In life, we save what we can, then force ourselves to move on. In games, there are tutorials, cheat codes and walkthroughs. In life, there's only hindsight. 事后诸葛亮. I know I'm doing something wrong, I just don't know what it is or how to do it right, instead. I wish someone could hammer some sense into me, physically or otherwise, point out the error of my ways, set me on the right path etc, before another wreck litters the sea bed. Friday, June 15, 2007 Office talk of the day: We're all going to be watching French news from now on..  And we're all playing this right now.. At least, the rest are.. My mentor is most probably paying me a visit today so I'm sorting out the work I've done this week. We do do work, ok? We just do other things as well.. =P Thursday, June 14, 2007 For some reason, somebody bought iWeekly today, which is like the 1st copy in the house this year. And luckily too, for on it is major news: Priscelia Chan is getting married! I'm heartbroken.. =( But seriously, it's about time for her lah, and I wish her all the best and many happy years ahead. =) More later maybe, gonna play now. =) Wednesday, June 13, 2007  Haven't read Baby Blues for a long time..  My mum literally does that, too, that's why I don't wear jeans around the house! (I mean, apart from the fact that it's damn hot, as in the weather) My niece has had one since she was 6, too. Kids nowadays.. In my family it's my mum.. =P =)Monday, June 11, 2007 日有所思，夜有所梦. Our thoughts leave behind trails as they blaze through our neurons, and every night our subconscious gathers these threads and weave them into the semi-coherent mess we call dreams. And dreams never correspond to reality, because our minds do not remember things as they are, but molds and shapes them, like putty, to fit into the gigantic jigsaw of the mind. So the moment after waking up is always one of confusion, as we struggle to clear the fog from our heads and sift out reality from the twisted dreams. And dreams can be tormenting, leaving us staring at the ceiling with eyes wide open, fearful of the resumption of sleep and of dreams, or leaving us yearning for a few more hours of bliss, or leaving us bitter that such nirvana will never be in the real world. I envy those for whom sleep functions as in RPGs -- an instant of darkness and soothing music, and suddenly it is morning and their HP and MP are restored. =P Because sometimes dreams can be more exhausting as being awake; ever tried doing calculus in your dreams? I have, and it ain't fun at all. =S Sunday, June 10, 2007 Had a lot of fun tonight. Sorry for making you guys ask twice. Thanks for accommodating my brother, as well =) Glad to find out that my bowling is still semi-decent, despite not having bowled for almost 2 years already. I think it's really sad for people like me, who throw like pros, with nice-looking posture and all, but hit nothing. I don't know if my coach will be happy or sad if he sees me bowl now.. =S Just.. tired of going out everyday, just wanna spend a day or 2 at home, just chilling, watching tv, playing games, and not have to worry about anything. Especially not worry about getting to places on time (not that it matters, sometimes =P). Which is why you guys had to ask twice.. and why I haven't booked any courts for badminton yet. And of course, the way we spend like nobody's business, one way or another, everytime we go out.. Geez. Ok lah, it's all worth it lah, but the hole in my pocket is so big, I can almost stick my hand through it liao. ;-) Maybe I'll hide at home until Windz gets back, then we can start going out like nobody's business again. Then again, now that Windz has an "ahem", maybe not.. haha. =P Wednesday, June 06, 2007 Windz says this is actually not bad so I'm gonna post it.. haha.. 笑看狂风掀涟漪 泪洒黄沙已故题 不羡鸳鸯不惧寂 只盼晚霞映天际 I changed the last line.. original was 只盼鱼虾共酒祭 which I think sounds rather funny. Been sprouting poetry like flowers in spring, these past couple of days. Poor Windz is going to become my QC. 但是我觉得我写得太白了，太浅了；不够花草树木，不够飞禽走兽。是不是因为我的为人也很肤浅呢？Haha.. Tuesday, June 05, 2007 人生若唯梦一场，喜为何？悲亦为何？爱为何？恨亦为何？天长地久或是曾经拥有，都只不过是昙花一现，梦醒后，犹如过眼云烟，随风而逝。 道理虽连篇，心房依缠绵。 众者欲凤凰，谁人当麻雀？人才济济，试问能有几个宰相，几个皇帝？几个关羽，几个诸葛亮？各者应当竭尽所能，成败与否交由天来定夺，何苦为此耿耿于怀？ 绿杨芳草长亭路,年少抛人容易去.楼头残梦五更钟,花底离愁三月雨. 无情不似多情苦,一寸还成千万缕.天涯地角有穷时,只有相思无尽处. -- 晏殊，《玉楼春》 Why are my posts so.. diluted? Maybe it's because I'm not good with words, maybe it's because of the self-censorship, that makes me dampen my emotions and hide them. It's frustrating to be unable to say what I want to say, to convey what I'm feeling, to be understood. Ah whatever. Monday, June 04, 2007 Seems like I've been dreaming for a long, long while.. and it's well past time to wake up. And you know how some dreams are so vivid, they feel like they really happened, and as I shuffle to the bathroom, I'll give my dad a weird look because he just said something nasty in my dream.. really! But it's time to get back to the real world, so I'll just give my head a vigorous shake and say, "That was some dream!" And get on with the real world and the real life. And you know how there're some dreams that you don't want to wake up from, even though you'll know, somehow, that it's all a dream and that you really should wake up soon, even though you're still in the dream. And while this dream hadn't really been all that nice, I still find myself wishing that I could dream a while longer, maybe because it's still nicer than waking up back in reality again. Anyway here's a hearty "Good Afternoon!" to me.  Now I think I understand why Dad drinks 2 cups of coffee everyday: one early in the morning during breakfast, and one in the late afternoon. 1st theory is that the coffees are preparation for the gruelling drives to and from the office, when the traffic is horrible; 2nd theory is that a person simply needs 2 cups of coffee to keep him going through the day -- I had 1 cup of coffee in the morning and now I'm feeling really sleepy, hence the need for a second cup very soon. Sunday, June 03, 2007 To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. - Alphonse Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist This time I'll just link to Windz's post, because it's really long and it's all in Chinese. =P After reading it I really pity 徐志摩, and I agree with the phrase “你爱的人，适合你的人和你娶的人不一定是个等号。” too. But I hope Windz and I, at least, will not end up like him.. =S Haha it's so weird to read so much Chinese then reply in English. Friday, June 01, 2007 This is the story of the little boy who tried to run across sticky mud. After the second step, his feet couldn't keep up with his head and he fell face-down into the mud. |
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