FML

The year is ending, Christmas is just round the corner, and we'll embrace the new year in 18 days' time. It's supposed to feel festive right now. After all, it's Christmas. It's all about fun, family and new possibilities. But somehow, I'm not feeling all that. They seem so distant and unattainable.

I planned for the year to end on an alcohol-induced high. But it seems even that is not going to happen. It's funny how the way things turn out.

Not long ago, I fell into this depressed mood. I don't want to go back there. It was dark. It was not even close to teenage angst; it was like my fire has burnt out. I don't plan to go there anymore, but sometimes, plans just fail.

It seems that I am struggling with myself. I set my unattainable goals for life and try fruitlessly to achieve them. And in the process, I hurt myself. I've brought everything upon myself. I am responsible for my own undoing. Apparently.

Yet when I choose to accept the world for what it is, I feel I'm wandering aimlessly. I have no purpose, but to pander to those around me by staying alive. Then I might as well be dead. I've had that thought several times, especially when crossing roads and traffic junctions. (But somehow I've managed to keep myself alive.)

Fortunately for me, those semi-suicidal thoughts have eluded me since 2 months ago. But I know they are almost resurfacing now. They have been hiding in my subconscious and making me reckless. That is why I have been horned several times while on the road since then.

Just yesterday, a car blew its horn on me at a car park. Without thinking, I gave the driver the finger. The driver's husband wasn't too pleased with that and came out to confront me. Well, in the end he left with his entire day spoiled while I escaped in a adrenaline-induced high. When I reflect upon this, I think nothing of whether my actions were justified or sensible, but rather, about the fact that that was the most excitement I have had since the end of last year.

My year must have sucked. Or my life must have sucked.
333 more

Today, mom suddenly IMed me on msn. We talked about stuff, loneliness, friends and how our lives may not be the best that they can be at the moment. Mom mentioned I haven't been writing for a long time so I shall just update my blog today, lest people think that this blog has died.

Nothing much has happened lately. Most days, I book out, have dinner at home, watch a show, talk to tian on msn, and then book back in again. Every day seems just like the last one, so there isn't much that I think is worth mentioning here. Nonetheless, I think the routine and mundaneness is worth a paragraph here.

My hands are the same. They don't hurt too bad. I no longer feel a lack of grip strength. But they are still damn stiff and a tingling sensation radiates from my joints – both hands and feet - from time to time. I did an ultrasound scan today, but apparently there is no inflammation. I guess this should be a good thing, since my fingers and toes will not deform with age. But I still don't know what the hell is wrong with me and whether this stiffness and pain will be permanent. I hate this uncertainty. It bothers me a lot, so much so that I sometimes feel like doing things that I am not proud of. I hate the temptation.

Of course, it doesn't help to know that I'll probably be counting down to 2010 in camp on New Year's Eve. I feel kind of indignant when I see others who have it so easy. I don't understand it. Why does things have to be so hard for me (and even harder for some others)? Life just isn't fair. And this unfairness is difficult to comprehend. The last time someone tried to answer that question, a revolution started in Russia so I shall not even go there.

At least there's an end to all this. It's only 11 more months. All I have to do is suck thumb and get through with it. And perhaps take an MC or 2 every month to cover the lost weekends.

Okay, enough rambling. In the end, all I want to say is: those who understand can't help and those can help don't understand. That is the story of my life for the most parts.

(Maybe, like Richard, I have situational depression)





***
Btw, I miss you.
Dancing and Falling

Borrowed from a friend:

I am the court jester.

I wear a mask that always smiles.

I prance around in the courts, with my staff, and my ball.

Sometimes I fall, just for the royalties’ amusement.

Other times I resort to my old tricks.

Most times, the royalties are too tired to watch me.

During those times, I am invisible physically.

But deep down, I know I am always invisible. No one sees past that mask.

I am alone.

I prance and dance.

I am the court jester.
Of Trees and Sounds

When a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

It does, or it doesn’t, but we will never know.

We all know then when things fall, they make a sound. Science tells us that the kinetic energy of the falling tree will be transferred to sound energy in the form of longitudinal waves when the tree hits the ground. However, science is falsifiable, and that particular tree that fell in the forest may have been the exception. It could have been the black swan - the proof that not all things make a sound when they fall.

Or it could have just been a normal (and dumb) tree that fell with a loud thud.

We will never know.

And we cannot judge without any evidence. It’s too bad that we are not there to listen to the tree fall.
Fat is fat

Many people - the governement, my previous school, my current superiors and even some of my peers - have tried to pull the "NS is good for you" shit on me.

I was fooled by them to believe I was the odd one who could not stand national service while all the other guys could. I felt rather inadequate, but i know better now. Jenny enlightened me to look at things as they are and not let brainwashed fucks affect me.

First, let's establish that NS is a fucking waste of time. The argument that ns brings you benefits such as the values of independence, perserverance, determination, etc, is obviously flawed because the fact that you are living in Singapore now means that you probably have all those values. This means you don't need NS to get those values.

And secondly, shit is shit. For the purpose of debate, let's liken NS to a fat chick. In a some parts of the world, only fat chicks exist. But you know you don't like fat chicks. It doesn't mean that when all the chicks are fat you have to fuck the fat chick! You can always move to a place where there are hot chicks and fuck them. Fat is fat. You don't have to fuck the fat chick!

Fuck the brainwashed fucks. All fooled by relativity.
NSFs

We are the Unfortunate
led by the Unqualified
to do the Unnecessary
for the Ungrateful.

-Courtesy of a notice in front of Gerald Koh's table.
BIG DREAMS

It seems that society, or more specifically, Singapore society, expects us to have big dreams, if not big nationalistic dreams. Since we were children, we are taught by people around us to contribute to society, or even to humanity. We are told to be doctors to alleviate the human condition from malaise, to be lawyers and law enforcers to rid society of injustice, to be philanthropists and social workers to bring about equity in the world, and so on. Our role models are and remain to be Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Abraham Lincoln, and Lee Kuan Yew (just look up any Singapore social studies textbook, and if you beg to differ, you’re one of my friends). In short, we were raised to have big dreams and do big things. We are expected to make a difference.

What if one simply doesn’t care? Then he becomes a pariah, condemned to be a selfish scum of the earth.

I don’t have big dreams. And I think I never had them. I don’t care about homeless people living on the streets, simply because I am not one of them. But if, I, for some unexplainable reason, join the ranks of the homeless, I would definitely fight the hell out of me for my rights. In short, I am apathetic to those that do not concern me. I don’t need to concern myself with ailing Africans or countries engaged in gruesome civil war unless, A, I’m part of a pharmaceutical company, or B, I’m a gun runner selling arms to both sides of the war. Do not misunderstand me. I am not the devil, nor do I have evil intentions. I am merely apathetic to distant suffering. And if unfortunate things had already happened to my fellow inhabitants of this earth, I don’t see anything wrong in benefitting from their misfortunes, if and only if I am not at liberty to help them anyway. If you can’t help them, might as well siphon off them. Right?

Alright, I digressed quite a bit. I’m supposed to write about my dream. My dream is small and simple. It involves only a penthouse apartment in Dubai, 12 barely clothed supermodels, poker, a few like minded friends, martinis, and merry. Despite its miniscule size, I think I need a considerable amount of planning and funding to achieve this dream. But it is okay. It is attainable, when compared to dreams like making every one in the world a saint, or like stopping people from ever engaging in warfare, or like bringing equality to society. In fact, I already have plans to make it happen. And I need YOU, my friends, to help me achieve it. Under mentioned are my plans. Feel free to sign up for any one of them. But please take note, due to the limited number of supermodels in my dream, only 11 other straight male friends can sign up. This restriction does not apply to my homosexual male friends and all female friends.

Plan 1: Drug Dealing.
Basically, we buy a plot of poppies in Afgan from the Taliban, process the produce and sell them at a marked up price in the G7 countries.
Pros: The Taliban is friendly to all who wants to screw with Western civilization
Cons: The penalty for drug dealing in most G7 countries is a life sentence.

Plan 2: Gun Running
We hook up with the Chinese, and the Russians and ship these arms to Africa where the sonnobitches love killing themselves over cattle and land and water.
Pros: Watching people kill each other with our merchandise is hugely entertaining, not to mention great for business for our counterparts in the entertainment – oops I mean mass media – industry.
Cons: The Chinese and Russians have tighter controls over their AKs these days.

Plan 3: Ponzi Scam
Set up a phony fund and let the money roll in.
Pros: OMG! I can’t believe people still fall for this crap!
Cons: 150 years in prison

Plan 4: Sunny Island Wellness
Set up a practice with a plastic surgeon, a dental surgeon, a psychiatrist, a pediatrician and a general physician in town as a one-stop medical service for the rich and privileged. And charge them exorbitant prices of course.
Pros: All you people are going to be doctors any way.
Cons: The government likes to regulate healthcare services.

Plan 5: Rob a bank.
(Read the title)
Pros: Too fast too furious.
Cons: It’s Singapore, there’s no where to run.

To sign up, tag on my tag board, drop me a message on msn or simply holla me on fb. Your support is greatly appreciated.