2007











In keeping with the whole facebook theme, I guess you could say that I is missing telunas very badly. I don't believe I ever considered not going to stay in Singapore to do work. I'd like to go on and on about how great the place is, but I think enough people think I'm crazy as it is. But honestly, all those stuff you've heard about the place; they're not exaggerations. Anyhow, it's 1 thirty seven AM now, so technically I guess you could say we're into new year's eve! Cue party poppers and random shouts of joy. For the first time ever, I've managed to come up with new year resolutions even before the new year ends. And no, my electric isn't one of the resolutions. Although I am pretty resolved in getting one. Eventually. And like they say on TV, our lines are now open. Feel free to donate freely.

The year's passed so fast that this blog post would be like but one grain of sand, in an hourglass. Or in a more oriental based situation, like grains of rice in a bag of Thai Fragrant Rice, of which this bag is but one of the millions of bags of rice in Thailand, which incidentally gets transported to the rest of the world via entrepot trade, wet markets, and e-bay in rare cases. Anyway. Next year's looking as bleak as a pack of coffeebeans with a nasty decaffeinated label slapped on. But this year's been great, from the chill time with friends to the late night IA rushings. But before I degenerate into some nostalgic-esque korean soap of sorts, I better shut up. Telunas just helps you appreciate stuff so much more. They say that sometimes the less said, the better, and this is probably one of those times.

Like once famously mentioned,
Let is snow baby... Let it reindeer.
Happy new year guys

viewed from here,
2'2"

Coffee



Three cheers for very bad photo! Anyhow. You know, there really isn't much better for getting you into the christmas mood than sitting in a coffeebean (would have preferred starbucks, really) and sipping some coffee and soaking up christmas music and caffeine-inebriated atmospheric air. Actually, I fail to mention the sadder part of such a story; like how I was there for the sole purpose of completing my econs IA. Nevertheless, with a christmas spirit at stake, I managed to finish that little bugger before the joint closed shop on me.

B-Side

Who put this track on?
The tune's ticking, but we're not singing along.
And rhythm, it left. Long since you, had
So much
On your mind. Now mellow moods run
Amok, amidst melodies unfamiliar
Yet.

"I know this!" This rings a bell. Alarms
You, you never saw this coming.
This crotchet, that crutch. Hold the rest,
Come cadence. Suspense
Made simple, for the end you knew
Wasn't right. Left you hanging on A minor
Lack of conclusion.

Riled you turn-
Its airtime is over. All has been heard
That has been heard. But
What was left, is now under
The bridge, and past the chorus.
Not unusual though was the presence of further,
Hiding behind those releases once
Remixed, remastered; revealed
Through scrutiny and searching.
Now found, you scarce believe.

That b-side of yours,
Made simply forgotten.
__________________________________

Two posts in one! Though it's true that they are kinda short posts. Oh well, telunas beckons soon, and then maybe I'll be inspired to write more, although inspiration's sorely lacking at the moment, and various aberrations of work-derived origins threaten my very existence. I am no longer coherent, so I think I'll end my post here. See you guys in a few days. The holiday's really slipping away.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Cataclysmically Clustercaustic
Of Snowglobes & Small Settlements



Heh admittdly this isn't a picture of mine, but I couldn't help but use it here. It's really an amazing piece, seeing in how everytime you look at it you draw out a different emotion. When I first chanced upon this little wonder, I also happened to notice numerous posts about how cute it looked, and I readily agreed. It brings to mind snowglobes and lego houses, towns and worlds that mimic our very own, except in miniature form, and with hefty pricetags. The thing about holding a world mimicking yours in the palm of your hand is how awe-filled (no, not awe-ful ho ho) you become. "So this it what our world would look like from a God-eyed view. Except maybe a whole lot less lifelike." Snowglobes and their worlds within our world fill us with mindfunk, and the ability to make it snow in their world in the middle of our heat-strikenly, globally warmed and equatorially challenged Singaporean summer is really nothing to be scoffed at. Who can't like snowglobes when you look at it that way?

But that's just one thing the picture brings to mind.

Strangely enough, the very picture that instills awe and wonder, also happens to impart some really negative micro-waves of emotion to the viewer. The viewer picks up these contrasting emotions like how a man would a five cent coin on the road; his hope rising from what appears to be promises of gold, or possibly even a whole dollar (whoa!), but what turns out to be merely disappointment. Though some may find that five cent find a stroke of obscenely good luck, at this point of time I really feel like being negative, so I'll stick that whole false hopes idea.

But I digress! That was one really extended analogy, but at least that's over. Now back to the picture. Recently when I looked at it, I began to wonder something other than the usual wonder. Sure, snowglobes and cute little village-town-planet things look cute and all, but there's something really disturbing about it all. Snowglobes encase little worlds within them, which people view and enjoy everyday, and even write extensive blog posts on. Yet, the beef with snowglobes is exactly that - they encase stuff. The glass wall that seems to preserve this little world is exactly the same glass wall that prohibits it. Ever seen the show Lonely Planet? Well, I haven't (though I'm quite sure it isn't about solitary planets being sore about their solitude), but I must say this is exactly what comes to mind. A world trying to find it's place in our world, and being unable to because the inhabitants of the world we live in insist on keeping these little worlds stuck in little glass globes, and sitting on our display cases of houses.

At this point of time, I must apologise for going all philosophical and serving up plates of Plato, or whatever other famous philosopher you care to name, but I'm in a really ranty mood today.

The tree in the picture pokes its head out of the forest of houses that surround it, and while drawing all the attention of the viewer to it, still seems to scream a sense of detachment. The little floating planet's surrounded with houses of every detail, but the irony of it all lies in how the barren tree, which one would normally pass over, seems to clash with the buildings of that world, yet also holds the entire composition of the picture together.

Yeah, detachment. Lately my head's been one massive mess, and I'm just... floating along. I can't seem to put any order to anything, and the I'm walking around in a daze. Stuff happen, and stuff don't. Stuff, stuff, and more stuff. It's great just shelving stuff when you can't put any sense to anything, just like how someone's messy room would look like. I think my brain and conciousness kind of decided that school holidays extended to them too, and ended up taking self-proclaimed leave. They're probably somewhere in Europe now even as you read this ramble. Maybe I should get down to doing some school work. That always helps pin stuff down. Afterall, what are we if we don't have work? Savages.

A really poor reference there signals that I should stop and spare you the misery of reading further. It's a rare occasion that aimless and floaty posts like these surface from the murky depths of this writing space, and I can assure you I'll try to keep these to a minimum. I guess writing crap down does help get some order going, and maybe soon enough the snowglobes can get off the floor in their ruddy mess and at least onto the shelves, looking pleasant and just like little worlds worth marvelling at, and start filling me with awe once again.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Of Reflections And Pots Of Gold



It's a strange thing how we only pause for thought when some sort of trouble comes our way. Man somehow works like the ultimate troubleshooter, churning up huge amounts of delay, lag and frustration not too unlike the Mac-Afee sort whenever some threat pops up. Problems always seem so much easier to mull over, while you know what they say about fleeting joys and the like. As I continue to write, this post begins to degenerate, slight testament to how that good feeling comes and goes way too quickly to grab hold of, kind of like really great cheesecake. Maybe I should get down to the point of this post.

The night 23rd of November was not your typical night, considering how far from being dark and stormy it was. Quite on the contrary, it was a night with cloudless skies and a moon that looked like it got exported straight from some manga character's eyes: Really. Big. And not to mention pretty damn bright too. There it sat in its lofty abode in the eleven fifteen twilight sky, and basking in its almost 3D-esque grandeur it implored people worldwide to abandon their mortal ways and embark on a path of werewolfhood.

Or in simple terms, the moon damn nice today seh.

A sight this stunning was begging for a photo capture, but as I whipped out my trusty handphone, I could only languish in how the moon looked like a sorely mispositioned glob of blanko on the dark canvas of my phone screen. Oh well, it was worth a try. Nevertheless, it was enough for me to stand there for the whole part of five minutes, staring at the moon as it stared at our world; the staring match of the century, which the moon inevitably won, granted through underhand methods though; such as by burning a hole in the back of my retina. (I'm still getting the hang of this semicolon business. Damn you strange punctuation mark, damn you!)

Sadly, such scenes come as often as good bands to singapore, and go quicker than we run to the toilet at the call of nature. Reality strikes back, and the weight of the world falls off the canopy of the sky and onto your shoulders, and you can't help but hunch. The post began with the hopes of pudding in the bread and butter, but it appears that it only had false promises of pudding (facebook is bad for you that way), and a positive conclusion is hard enough to dig up. At any rate, we can always look forward to these punctuations of peace and possibly even joy, like the commas, colons, semicolons and periods that litter our sentences, and that hopefully perforate our world with.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Time Is Running Out



Lucky him. I, on the other hand, was running home. Quite the contrary to running out really.
It's not often I post about the happenings of my day, since most of the time there really isn't much to write about anyway. But this time, writing this post is some way of cooling down, and it beats pacing up and down my room or trying to perform various positions of yoga.

Today was not the best of days. Sleeping at two in the morning and waking up at six in the morning happens to have several strange effects on your mind and body, not too unlike that of heavy LSD overdosage. Nevertheless, I made a valiant attempt to survive my day on my winnowing sleep reserves. It's too bad that valiant attempts almost never work. This happened to take the form of a sixteen hour day. If you do the mathematical studies there, you realise that that's four times the amount of sleep I got. Being the ever-resourceful and ever-lethargic singaporean citizen that I was, I decided to take the opportunity to fall asleep in just about every corner I decided to relac in, as well as every bus that decided to grant me seating pastures. Call me antisocial, but it seemed to have worked. Here I am, online at twelve in the morning, writing some inane post. Ironically, I wouldn't BE writing this post if not for the fact that buses can get so damn comfortable when you get used to them.

So, on with the story. After much brainstorming of katrinic proportions, we decided that we really should let the unfortunate workers at Gelare go home. Then came the semi-elucidated mrt trip, and the trip-hop to the bus stop (hoho that rhymes) to grab my bus back, kanye telling me something about being harder, better, faster and stronger all this while. Could have been one of the reasons why I even made it to the bus stop without collapsing down the stairs. The bus was taking forever to come, and when it DID come, it decided to pass by and go do that thing all buses do when they don't stop at the freaking bus interchange, whatever that is. So then my bus does come! And by this time Justice is being served in copious amounts, remixes aplenty. All is looking and sounding good. Good enough for me to get comfortable and fall into some deep slumber only usually rendered possible by some shinylooking apple.

Usually there's this thing called the biological clock which saves your life and wakes you up when you need it. It woke me up pretty fine, just about three bus stops before my stop. Sadly, my biological clock caved in to a simple chemistry of physics, where the up-down motion of the bus soon led to a nett down movement of my eyelids and a converse up movement of audio levels in the snore department.

By the time I could figure out the science of what was happening, I was just about three bus stops away from my house. I jump up of my seat, jump out of the bus, and jump start my terry fox back home. It happens that the skies decide to mourn and cry over my sorry situation, and their tears of rain descend upon me as I make the first run of mine in a really, really long time. Wait. 'Why not take the bus?' you ask. Considering that I'd already spent just about three dollars on bus and mrt fare with a concession card for the day, I really didn't want to incur more weight loss on my already anorexic wallet. Inspired partially by the fact that I was getting severely wet, the fact that I wanted to get home as quick as possible so i get finally get some rest, as well as the fact that I was about to get royally floorwiped by my parents for getting back so late the fifteenth time in a row, I decided to run.

By the time I entered the dairy farm stretch, I realised that a subtle, serene scene lay before me. The street lights emitted soft pinkish-purple glows, which reflected delicately off the falling crystal droplets of water, and the overall effect brought to mind images of picturesque fantasy, a la Stardust (Which is a really great movie by the way). Nevertheless, it's hard to appreciate such things when you begin to feel like you just swam with your clothes on, so I popped the key into the door and ducked into the cover of my starkly boring kitchen, only to end up here. On hindsight, it seems that the pink picture of perfection was probably not exactly some miracle of nature, but rather the blood rushing into my head at breakneck speeds, sans the neck breaking. And then again, a break from the shit of reality never hurt though.

Oh if you were wondering, I found this chapter off a book by Northrop Frye, and I decided to associate my blog with some famous guy. Ha. This also goes to show that contrary to my online msn status, I actually have been trying to do something for EE! And yet, the very fact that here I am writing a sodding blog post sheds some light on the reality of affairs. Oh am I screwed.

I shall end my rant now. I hope this makes up for a really long dry period of lack of postings

the view from here,
2'2"

Closing Down The Pattern Department



It appears we have a problem down here,
Pieces of your world fit rough round the edges.
Token sums and broken runs of records
Played once too many. Hope filters through mere
Gaps, pilfer us of reason and of sense.
Restore the rhetoric that had us run
Care-less then, yet wrought with wrongs done.
Fix it right up we thought this would, immense
Stupidity or blind faith gone good?
Pick up the pieces, leave the picture hanging
There. Perspective’s a wonderful excuse,
For ignoring the negative you could
Live another day to tell some others
The do’s, the wont’s and the don’t bothers.


Hoho my mediocre first attempt at sonnet writing!
Following a recipe of one part inspiration from English class, and one part stress relief for the upcoming final exams. Take a tablespoon of stress, stir in with a cup of anxiety and place in oven on a timer that's probably longer than the time i have left, and add utter frustration to taste. Serve chilled. Or on the verge of over-boiling, seeing how chilled is the last thing i feel right now. I definitely need to make myself another ice latte.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Smile Like You Mean It



It seems to many that a smile means something positive, a semblance of happiness at least partially present in the bearer of it. Yet, how much of this age old stream of thought still stands? You probably have heard of people telling their children not to "show a black face", and that it affects the mood of everyone around. That's some great social observation and application there isn't it? The world could do with less sadness, so let's start by not being sad ourselves. Simple enough a theory, it just might work.

And then again, the thing about such theories is that they are just that. Theories. Trying to move the momentum of your mood in the socially acceptable direction just happens to have this way of backfiring and blowing the hydrogen right out of your hot air balloon. And yet, isn't it so much easier to just stick with the acceptable? A happy person makes everyone happy. Sure he would, wouldn't he, since a happy person wouldn't be radiating any negative emotion in their general direction.
There definitely will be those who wouldn't give two shits to the public opinion, and go their own self-fulfilling way down that road of less traffic lights. And then again, traffic lights are there for a reason. A pretty good one too.
Then we have those who genuinely want to up the relative positive of the mood of all parties involved, for it feels good for others to feel good.

Undoubtedly so, either way we have a situation where the happy face seems to bring just about that many more better outcomes, and hey so shouldn't that be the way to go? After all it sounds simple enough, and everyone benefits.
Therein lies the problem where sometimes you never really get to that point where the benefits can even be reaped. Your emotion trip just met with the roadblock of the across the causeway kind, and your tank's empty from the get go. It's no wonder it's so hard to pinpoint just why the smile seems so handy a tool to use when the vehicle breaks down, since there wasn't much to pinpoint from in the beginning, other than that your mood happened to have this cruddy core.

Maybe the smile may be easy as easy to pull off as it is to put on, but hell it's only easy because not doing so would be worse.

We don't all try to give
Politician smiles,
Eyes and teeth and the
Obligatory wave.
But such a picture perfect
Perspective covers up
Wholly well the hole
That lies on the inside.
Not because we want
To, but because You
Do.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Walk With Me



Wow. It's been close to a month since I last posted, and I sure miss it. Maybe you took my inactivity to be a sign of abandonment. But alas! Such abandonment is not to be so until I so say so. Sadly every time I've been wanting to post there's been a lack of either a) text to type, or b) photos that have at least some vague sense of inspiration-arousing ability. Nevertheless, for those of you who still do read this, welcome back. Thanks for your undying support, and your insatiable appetite for literary trash. On a happier note, say hello to my new friend, D40x. Technicalities aside, it fulfils all util points and happiness quotients for the present, as I allow myself to obessess incessantly about how I actually now have a camera which doesn't stop to ring or vibrate half way through trying to take a photo. Perhaps the only sad thing is that I can't exactly play tennis with it. Depressing, I know, but a worthwhile trade for something with what, three times the amount of megapixels? I promised less technical talk, so I'll conclude my rant for today, but if ever you have cravings for ravings, you know who to look for.

The gray road stretches
Up ahead, but hey, don't we
Enjoy the going?

We're back in business.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Smoke And Mirrors



The stage beckons you back.
Flooded with lights but your soul silhouetted,
Faces filled with conviction, but spirits that slowly weaken.
The crowd goes wild.

Adrenaline pumped like an amp
In overdrive, distortion turned up to
Eleven. Where at that same hour you know you meant
To tell them that this is who you are.
The crowd goes wild.

The night is over,
Left for you to remember.
Maybe some day they'll understand.
But until then this you can savour.
The crowd goes wild.





















Sorry for the really blurry pictures, it doesn't really do justice to the event.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Holding On



In vast spaces of black,
Everything else is filled with lack,
Simple signs of weakness show
Louder, when they in darkness glow.
Nothing seems more present than
Nothing.

Yet,
Things not seen can't help but gleam,
When on such like these you can lean,
Bringing burden upon this one,
Where willingly it's deemed gone.
The greatest present for the
Present.

the view from here,
2'2"

Revisiting



You knew it was coming sooner or later. This photo just had to rear its ugly rear at you again from the safety of its net of the world-wide variety. Somehow things which happen have this way of happening that makes you wish that they never had happened. It makes you wonder why when you had to take the road of life, why you had to have chose the highway with the road accident, I mean, collision ('accident' implies that there's no one to blame. haha. hot fuzz!) But then you realise that after all, all roads lead to Rome right? And since you're travelling on the road, the fact that the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains, means that your journey is pretty much independent on whether the weather stays in your favour or not. Plus, now you know that the grass isn't simply just greener on the other side, but probably rather waterlogged at that. With this in mind, you can now champion the cause of travelling without having to have worried about getting your salted peanuts. You can now have your PIE and love it, knowing that the CBD has its ERP and hence suffers a notable amount of GST. Now you know that quantum is bollocks anyway, as who really cares where your particle will end up, as long as you get bacon for breakfast the next day. It might also dawn on you, after dusk perhaps, that not everything matters, but the things which do, matter a lot.

viewed from here,
2'2"

The Shadow Proves The Sunshine



Pursued by your shadow,
Haunted by the sun.
Plagued by the present,
Embrace the to come.

viewed from here,
2'2"

Lunch For The Sky



The blur here is unrelentingly painful, but I could always use the explaination, or excuse, that I meant for it to look painterly. So there.



I tried to not just get the beach, but the people involved as well. Sadly, I don't think they really wanted to be involved, and also because a guy with a phone for a camera looks pretty damn dubious. I can't decide though if the people giving massages overthere had a great spirit of determination, or if they were just being pains in our asses (which they would subsequently try to massage away. Oh the horror). Though I think I'll stick to avoiding them for now.



It is not often when the intangible nature of the sky has the opportunity to overwhelm the solid state that is the ground we stand on. Now I've seen clouds from both sides, silver linings could very well mean something which would get caught at airport security.



And that deviously majestic glow right there is what causes the subtle roasting of your skin to that brown, crisp perfection. Which happens to hurt a hell lot.



Some things cause the world to stop and to look. And sometimes, this thing is the world itself.

viewed from here,
2'2"

The View From There

... There being this foreign land of Thailand where we spent a week of our sad student lives, a welcome change to the numbing repetition of work and wallowing in quick succession through our progression of school. Sadly I could not take a piece of Thailand home, but I could take a few photographs, and this is what I leave you with. Though these serve as an inundation of inadequacies which barely possess providence enough to depart deliberation in you, I at least hope that they might arouse in you feeling - be it feelings of reminiscence, shock, horror, awe, indignation, joy, grief or insight. Now enter this painted story, of tales of bravery, bravado and bullshit, where the world seemed to revolve around one place, and the stories it has to tell.