After midnight, took two young men from East coast to Bt Merah. They had apparently just finished their late supper, as they carried a thick smell of food into the car. They both looked to be in their early twenties. One was slightly older than the other.

The older boy was playing a PSP using his both hands while talked absently with the younger one, mostly about his games. He seemed to know a great deal about electronic games and, while kept playing the gadget in his hands, went through what he liked and disliked among a variety of games. Game design, graphics, level of difficulty, all flowed out of him so effortlessly like a stream running down a hill. I couldn’t help being amazed at how much time some kids spend on these things nowadays.

The younger boy, on the other hand, appeared to be less tech-savvy. Most of the time, he just listened. When he did speak, he spoke softly and carefully. Somewhere between the monologues of the game boy, he asked, “how come you know so much about these things?”

“Because I am interested in them,” the game boy said, with eyes still glued to the bright-screened machine.

“Are you interested in me?” the younger boy asked, gingerly.

“No,” the other answered immediately. “I am not interested in you.”

After a short moment of quietness, the game boy resumed his natural rate of flow of words. “You should try this game. It is really good. It takes the graphics to a whole new level…..”

The other boy continued to be an attentive listener and occasionally asked short questions in his usual soft voice.

As if nothing had happened.

At the destination, they said goodnight to each other and parted company.

For a moment, I felt a hint of sadness for the younger boy. I couldn’t place a reason, though.

http://taxidiary.blogspot.com/

Even an outsider understands.

My Home

What makes me Singaporean:

1) I grew up in Singapore

2) I studied in a neighbourhood primary school and a neighbourhood secondary school

3) I have watched NDP in one way or another, every single year of my life

4) I get an electric thrill down my spine when I hear some national day songs

5) I have better grades in English then Chinese

6) I am a member of a Resident's Commitee

7) I speak English primarily, but listen to more Chinese songs

8) I loved to watch Holland Village (Channel 8 Drama Serial)

9) I served (almost finish!) in National Service to my best ability, albeit reluctantly.

10) I absolutely love eating

a. Durians

b. Char Kway Teow

c. Mee Goreng

d. Roti Prata

e. Hainenese Chicken Rice

f. Bread Talk Chilli Floss Buns

g. Chilli Crab and Black Pepper Crab

11) I have a mum who can speak 11 different regional dialects fluently

12) I attend a Church situated next to an old streetside Chinese Temple

13) I've taken MRT or SBS/SMRT buses all my life

14) I go to Sentosa's Siloso beach as my routine beach-love affair

15) I get most of my groceries from NTUC

haha... okok.. I think I've got plenty I can imagine.

Let see...

What am I not Singaporean about?

... I am proud to be a Singaporean

Seriously, there are not many people I know who actually would reply with a postive yes if I ask them if they are proud to be a Singaporean.

I am really proud to be a Singaporean. This country gave me education, health, a stable home, without fear of war, terrorism, disease or natural disasters.

how many countries can claim that?

I love my country... =)

I love the stablity she provides, the promise of security, both economically, psychologically, military and even spirtually.

The gentle promise that if you work hard, you will get the chance to see your dreams.

Do you love Singapore?

I do.

Who says that the word "proud" cannot be used to describe affiliaty with country?

It is not true that we did not choose to be Singaporeans.

For all the things that you do, are you not one?

I am a Singaporean, and despite the flaws and cracks that my country has, I still love her.

That is another facet of my love.

Eviscerating Despondency

I decided to erase my previous entry...
haha... =)

I think it's not worth putting painful memories on my blog. Life should always be a happy experience. - Not always happy, per se; but rather, release the painful memories into an all encompassing ocean of self committed freedom.

Why be bounded by invisible chains that you create yourself?

*grins*

Poofy shit. My parents have been away since last friday, and are probably coming back tmr night. Darn. My last night being able to sleep on the uber large guest bed without them roaring me awake in the wee hours of the morning.

One of my ccolleagues ORD-ed today. His happiness was kinda infectious. =)
I couldn't even help but be happy even though so many frigging horrid things happen the day when I wasn't around.
Even the nasty DXO was laughing when he was reading about another of my colleague who just got sent to DB earlier that morning.
(author's bite: Not that he isn't nasty still. His smile, normally a terrible crocodile's leer was weirdly different)

Felt really light.

Like a super heavy burden was lifted off my back.
.. the wonders of a smile eh?

"Laugh, like you truly mean it. Let your eyes sparkle, your heart leap, your fingers dance, your feet spright and your mind let go... More then just being free, you dissolve gloominess around... everywhere."

Somebody commented that I had a great physique.
- Lol. Maybe that made my day.
I think I was grinning myself silly. It has taken me quite some time to get to where I am. And I don't even think I'm halfway there yet. - but.... almost, almost reaching the next rung.

Thanks!

I feel very light. Did I mention I feel very light?

The one month is up.
At least I say it is.

I BREAK THIS YEAR'S CURSE.

hahahahahaha.... xD
riddikulus! ~ RAWR!!

I've finished the TAG magazine, better then ever, faster then ever and the team is responding with insane efficiency!

I've been awarded a FOUR SEMESTER advanced standing in Queensland University of Technology, which means I only have to do one year of Bachelor Studies to get my Degree!

I'm almost finished with my Professional in HR Examination, despite it being so tough in the beginning!

I'm broke, but I've got a person who doesn't care if I don't take him to air cond places to eat! And likes my cooking!

I'm going to get one more new student to teach synthesizer to! Which means alot to me.

I'm handing over my entire work to my understudy!

I got a really neat watch from Xiao Wei mei mei which is far lighter then my previous watch! (incidentally, it is Timex'"Ironman" - *cough* which probably means I'm expected to live up to that watch's reputation... haha! I'll do it!)

I've got a new colleague whom I can talk to! - about EVERYTHING. =)


Lets see.... haha.. and this is just this month alone.



Well.. I'm leaving my past behind. And I will not return to it. - ever again.
But I'm going to create a blazing future.

One with nothing to regret.
One with nothing to look back, and wish it were different.

I'm there already.

I'm going to get there.





It's in the face of abject misery when one finds a flicker of light, a quest for hope that will never fail...
Goodbye, terrible, terrible year. =)

Impasse.

I'm sitting in the office, on my swivel chair... at my desk...
It's messy, but I'm ok.

I think a guy's desk should be messy.. =P It shows that he isn't idling his life away...

It's really quiet here. Uber quiet. The trainees are asleep, all you hear is the low humming of the air conditioner. It's quiet tranquil actually.

Makes you think.

I've been thinking alot recently, which explains so many posts on my blog. People force me to think, even though I much prefer dreaming. Then again, nobody can dream for long without having to wake up to the nightmare which is reality.

Recently, I watched this show called, "Prayers for Bobby".
It's a show that really hits hard at what people actually believe, and it hits home to me.

It's about a boy called Bobby, who was brought up in a staunch christian family.
He goes to church, trusts in God in everything, believe with all his heart that what his preacher says is true.
He tried to live a normal life, tried to do everything as good and pleasing as God commanded in the bible. But he never really had the option to do everything as God commanded him to - he was gay.

He hated himself for being gay.
He forced himself to try to conform to what the church and his family sees as straight.
But in the end, he found himself sliding down a slippery slope.
He tried to turn to God and ask Him for help, "why would I choose the life which would tear apart the happiness of the people I love?".

God never answered that particular prayer.

Distraught and disillusioned, he tried to commit suicide. The first time he lost the courage to and his brother, thinking it would help him, told his problem to his mum who was a staunch christian. His mum, like most staunch christians, kept telling him it was a damnable sin, and that he would go to hell if he continued to be that way, because the bible said so.

In her ferver and belief that prayer could change her son, she kept on praying, day after day, and sought help after help.

Each "help" chipped away at her son's self-esteem, and soon Bobby begun questioning if his mum really loved him or was she doing it for her own sake.

Bobby's cousin who was more open minded had this in respond to, "Love the sinner, not the sin." - it was, "Love the person, whatever the sin."

Bobby tried to the end to trust in God again, but word after word roared out condemnation. He lost faith, he felt that he lost his family, and when the person he loved seemingly cheated on him, he felt he lost his heart.

The second time he attempted to commit suicide didn't fail.
...


I really cried very hard when I watched that show.
It's not that my family doesn't care. They care alot. But deep down, I know, they'll never ever accept me for who I am...
... God doesn't answer my questions to this topic, and he is always serenely calm whenever this topic is brought up.
... unlike almost every other request and questions I get.

Why?

My dad always compared me to his childhood condition which ravaged his legs.
He said, "I kept asking God why He did this to me. Why He gave me this condition, but in the end, it was the condition that led me to who I am today, and why I never gave up despite tough circumstances."

... I never ever told him that it was not a valid point, albeit slightly relevent.

If his illness was one which the bible said, "As one has polio (the illness), one must be cleansed or he will have a place reserved in hell."

then that would be appropriate. But no! That is not the case!

Homosexuality cannot be compared to an illness, at least for a Christian debate, because there is no illness in the bible that leads a person to hell!

...

I really am at an impasse here...

No one can answer my questions properly, and no one feels like they have the authority to.

If the bible is the only source I can turn to, then I'm condemned.
If the Holy Spirit should guide me, then He's silent.

...

I think Christians who seriously are against homosexuals totally, should take a look at the film "Prayers for Bobby". Then reconsider this - "Whenever you say a prayer, a child is listening."

Happy Father's Day

A father is a person who is forced to endure childbirth without an anesthetic. He growls when he feels good and laughs very loud when he is scared half-to-death.

A father never feels entirely worthy of the worship in a child's eyes.
He is never quite the hero his daughter thinks . . . Never quite the man his son believes him to be. And this worries him sometimes. (So he works too hard to try to smooth the rough places in the road of those of his own who will follow him.)

A father is a person who goes to war sometimes . . . and would run the other way except that war is part of his only important job in his life, (which is making the world better for his child than it has been for him.)

Fathers grow older faster than people, because they, in other wars, have to stand at the train station and wave goodbye to the uniform that climbs on board.
And, while mothers cry where it shows, fathers stand and beam . . .outside . . . and die inside.

Fathers are men who give daughters away to other men, who aren't nearly good enough, so that they can have children that are smarter than anybody's.

Fathers fight dragons almost daily. They hurry away from the breakfast table, off to the arena which is sometimes called an office or a workshop. There, with callused hands, they tackle the dragon with three heads; Weariness, Works, and Monotony. And they never quite win the fight, but they never give up.

Knights in shining armor; fathers in shiny trousers: There's little difference as they march away each workday.

I don't know where father goes when he dies, but I've an idea that, after a good rest, wherever it is, he won't just sit on a cloud and wait for the kid he's loved and the children they have. He'll be busy there too . . . repairing the stars, oiling the gates, improving the streets, smoothing the way.

Scribbled by ANDREW at 9/14/2007 03:19:00 PM

Its funny, when everything falls to pieces around you, you know love is there.
Seeking, finding, waiting and holding.
Thru all odds, waiting for the day of return.

I'll return, stronger then ever.
More capable of taking care of you then ever.

Wait for me, my love, my heart.
For even when the sun and the moon perish.
Our love will illuminate life itself...

I failed.. I really failed...
*cries*

Nervous Breakdown..

Am I imagining hurt?... I wonder...

My temper in the recent days is getting from bad to worse... I snap at everybody, I snap at everything... I even snap at my own self...

I have always tried to profile my character into list-able points, so that I can work at it, and stop myself when things get to messy.. My family especially knows my weakness very well, and have even seen terrible things that i did...

... maybe what he said yesterday was correct. Maybe what he said yesterday was so correct that he struck a multitude of raw nerves within me that hurt so badly.

Like the saying goes, "Fact is stranger then fiction, and more often then not, the truth hurts far more."

Yeah, I guess you're right. As I reflect more, even though I do not understand your reasons for bringing it up and forcing me to reflect, - you're right.

I do not have many close friends, and all the people that were close to me always felt that I am distant. I'm too distant to understand, to comprehend.
It's like a mental cage I put around myself.

Even to this day, I still struggle to look at people in the eye. Because as a kid, I was told that I had eyes which could murder people.
My bros would ask me to avert my eyes from my dad last time when he was punishing us because he would end up giving all three of us additional punishment when he locks eyes with me...

I never had much close friends, because I always felt that I should never reveal my weaknesses. What was the point? For them to comfort me? For them to burden themselves with a liability that they cannot shake themselves free off?

I always strive never to be a liability to people. I would rather disappear then allow myself to be a burden to somebody or a group. I hate the feeling of helplessness... When I need people, it becomes a burden to me.

I've told many people that one of my strongest beliefs in life is that when someone does good for you, you must return it back tenfold.
But there are some things that are totally unmeasurable in quantity...

How do you measure love?

How do you measure the times when he hugs you, ruffles your hair and give you an Eskimo kiss?

How do you measure a thousand stars folded with every bit of love he had, even though he is so busy?

How do you... measure the amount of tears he cried when you walked away?...

Some things are immeasurable, that's why when people say that, "gosh... why did you buy something so expensive?"...
is money something that make affection, emotion, sentiments, loyalty and love quantifiable?

I don't have many friends.

Because to me close friends are a burden. Not because they did anything wrong, but simply because they are beautiful chains.
They support you when you fall, they're there to hold you back when you're about to do something silly, they hold on to you because as you are chained to them, they are chained to you.

I don't have many friends.

... you're right.



That's what hurts so bad...