joeloholics anonymous

moved

2007-02-22T00:41:00.000-05:00

yeah, like it says, i've moved to joeloholic.wordpress.com...

big thanks to ivy for uh, facilitating the change and being instrumental in the setting up and subsequent pimping of new web page. joel muchly appreciates.

all past entries, comments and images have miraculously been transferred over, so we're all good!

1984

2007-02-06T02:33:00.000-05:00

1984 by George Orwell was a great book that I enjoyed while I was serving in National Service, where I had developed a voracious appetite for books, often sneaking in a ziplocked paperback into my poncho pouch whenever I was out in the field.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but I'll never forget the morning I finished reading it - after a hard night's bike training - lying in bed with the sun rising in the horizon, its warm glow caressing my face. I wasn't really in my comfy bed - I was Winston in the torture chamber, and I knew that I had hope beyond hope in myself that I wouldn't give in to the torture, wouldn't forsake my own awareness for mindless monotonic mediocre... existence.

Unfazed and horribly optimistic even as Winston's tribulations wore on, I read the entire torture sequence in 1984 that morning, hoping beyond hope - knowing, even - that Winston would somehow find a way to elude his captors and somehow escape to... somewhere?

When Winston gave in to torture I felt sick at my own betrayal, felt disgusted at my own defeat. I turned my back to the sleeping people around, my face to the sun in the horizon, and wept while no one could see.

joel 2007

2007-02-01T03:50:00.000-05:00

hey. i'm back. well, kinda.

not really.

but let me explain, o blog of mine. i used to write this for myself, mostly, just as an outlet for whatever stray thoughts lay in this wayward mind. later on, this blog was a vehicle for me to practise my writing, just for the heck of it. it however came to a point last year where i realized i didn't have much to say, or had a lot of things to say but lacked the words, or the time, to say them. and then after a while i wondered if these were worth putting down onto paper anyway.

whatever the case, i haven't blogged proper in a year, and though i don't promise to begin now, i realize that i once did have quite an intimate relationship with joeloholics anonymous, and nurtured and tended to it often.

why did this happen? perhaps because for a time, i stopped writing for myself. and in that time, perhaps forgot why i set this up in the first place.

it's just high time that joeloholics anonymous reverted to what it was before - a conversation with myself stretched over months and years. yeah, me, myself and i. again. i've forgotten how much pouring my soul into this has actually helped me over the years, and how much perspective it has given me.

i'm gonna be hella busy the next coupla weeks. don't know when i'll have my next entry here. but it matters not.

whatever. i blog again today.

second year has so far... been not as fluffy as i would've liked, but i'm hanging in here. i'm enjoying my classes greatly... mostly. my apologies for being slightly incoherent - it's 4am.

and if anyone besides me is actually reading this, thanks for stopping by.

be safe, and happy. and your families too.

stereotypes

2006-12-15T12:57:00.000-05:00

People make it sound like stereotypes are bad.

They aren't - they are mental shortcuts that help us make quick decisions, based on our judgement and prior experience; our schemas. When you're out in the city on a dark Saturday night, and you think about taking a shortcut through a creepy, dark alley... you stop yourself, because the stereotypical dark alley might have a robber lurking within, and no one would see or hear you if you were attacked there. You don't know enough information to be sure whether there's a thug with a knife in the dark alley, but your past experience fills in the gaps of what you don't know, and you decide wisely not to walk through the alley. Stereotypes save lives.

What is bad is when stereotypes - negative ones - persist in light of a cornucopia of readily available information. The internet, free newspapers, the mass media - take a look at them and you have information. It might be accurate, or it might not, but you've got it. Yet stereotypes persist.

Al-Qaeda is Sunni.
Saddam is Sunni.
Therefore, they are chummy buddies and Saddam was responsible for 911, which is full justification to bomb the heck out of Iraq and force him into hiding in a hole in the ground which he was dug out of and now he's going to die.

By the very same line of reasoning,

The IRA are Catholic.
The mafia are Catholic.
I am Catholic, which makes me an Irish-Italian mafia-terrorist even though I am a Singaporean Peranakan Chinese 2nd year university student in Toronto.

See, it shouldn't make sense, but it does. Because we are unfortunately wired to depend on stereotypes and other mental shortcuts to survive. You can't get rid of stereotypes, but we can start by getting rid of our own ignorance so we don't have to depend on stereotypes and other mental shortcuts as much.

the times you get hurt

2006-12-13T04:52:00.000-05:00

caffeine. damn you. coffee at eight pm has kept be up for the last eight hours, initially tremendously productive and working at my notes at breathtaking speed, then wearing me out faster than i would have liked.

and now ive got barely three more hours til daylight.

and im still in this state, frightfully awake even though thanks to my light workout just now while watching the lakers - rockets game my muscles are slightly aching.

even alcohol - i had some whisky n coke just now, sadly, the last of my dads whisky - cant undo this effect. potency of caffeine has perhaps been augmented by long absence of drinking any coffee at all, not counting diluted messed up things that pass off for coffee in city. what i wouldnt give for a kopi-peng right now, though, my current temporary insomnia notwithstanding.

so i lie here in my bed, my only companion that little voice in my head, my only form of expression these letters and words that are borne onto the keyboard right as i think them.

...

i would like to think right now, since im in the mood for it, about the times ive been hurt badly in my life. about the emotional setbacks. why? perhaps because only by looking down at the valley below you do you appreciate the fact that you stand now on higher ground. but maybe i just want to. and i cant sleep anyway.

i believe that i am the cause for a lot of the times i am hurt by people. or at least part of the cause. because i believe too much in people, perhaps. perhaps because i believe in the goodness that lies inside my fellow man's heart.

more than once this has taught people to take me for granted. and as much as i was angry at these people at the time, i was as much as fault as they were for my tears, because of my own stupidity and foolishness - my naivete if you may.

for two years now i have known that lesson - but maybe it is only recently that i have come to terms with the true meaning of it. you dont have to hide away from yourself to hide yourself from people, to protect that raw inner core that has been shredded too many times by people who couldnt care less, or didnt know better.

the first year which i blogged properly - 2005 - my posts were filled with anger and pain. i believe that my wounds are healed now, and while i do feel a tinge of regret at how things have turned out, i dont have time for that anymore.

i have... changed a lot in recent times. i think more about the future, and how i must prepare myself for it. i dont know. i think im perhaps less shallow than the man i tried to be two years ago... i cant be that man, no matter how i try.

good night. i dont think i can sleep, but ill try. out of desperation.

rambles

2006-12-13T04:37:00.000-05:00

musings.

ive not been able to sleep well lately, i dont know why too.

perhaps its the exam stress, though i am not really behind very much on my work. perhaps fact that i havent left the house since saturday, or rather havent really spent much time out of my room even, studying all the while for the last few days.

i know its not healthy. yes.

i suppose i have been bothered by a lot of things lately, things one might say i dont have business getting involved in. those things are hopefully settled now, or rather, ive stopped caring about. so thats all good.

i remember the early days of this blog when i was back in singapore where i would do what i am doing now, type into this and pour out my mind into this, with honesty and without pretense, in the wee small hours of the morning.

back then, many a night was spent awake, with just me and my ps2, and the cold, dark silence outside, with everyone asleep except me. and my winning eleven team or my dynasty warrior character of course.

...

that aside, ive taken a course this term on organizational behaviour, and this has honestly been the best, most educational course i have ever had in my entire life. yes, the professor is barely 30 and he really makes an already interesting subject ever more interesting with all these in-class exercises and stuff.

ive learned a lot from these in class exercises - the negotiation one, an integrated group-negotiation exercise, a group decision making exercise... and the like. ive come to understand a lot better how people think, and finally know the basics of how to apply what i learned in psy100 into real life. much fun.

...

reflecting upon this however i realize some things about myself and my behaviour that perhaps i had not thought of before. i was doing notes for my exam today on leadership, a subject that has fascinated me very much. i realize that i am not truly inept at being a leader. i may have not been 'good enough' for ocs - twice - but that just means that perhaps a military style leadership position does not suit me... or does it?

i know im rambling btw but what can i do, and what can you, for that matter?

...

Joeloholics Digest Vol 9: WHEN HOMELESS PEOPLE ATTACK!

2006-11-17T02:29:00.000-05:00

My back is fine now. I finally have put some links up on here, but since I updated this and upgraded to blogger beta, I lost track of my tagboard and most of the old links I had, so if I linked you / was supposed to link you, my bad. I really haven't had the time to sit here and write much anyway, not in the past few months, and things've been going so fast (oh no being vague again) as usual.

It's a surprisingly warm Thursday night, if wet, and I'm right in the middle of my big projects for my classes. School this year has been hectic, for sure, but the classes have been a lot more intriguing than they were last year, due perhaps in part to the relatively smaller classes. As a result I've been a lot more active in classes this year, especially in discussions and stuff, as opposed to the quiet, behind-the-scenes stealthy kind of guy I was last year.

I'm not sure which one is me, to be honest, since I usually vacillate between being quieter than the average person... and being a lot more loud, in-your-face and uh, out there than most people are, though the latter is a lot rarer for me, and only comes out due to circumstance.

I will try to write here more, since I do not wish to lose my ability to write. Already I find myself misspelling stuff in my notes, and wondering how many S's there are in "weaknesses" while I was doing a SWOT analysis just now was a wake-up call.

Anyway.

Today while on the subway to school I was attacked by a crazy homeless guy.

I was sitting in the carriage, reading the metro (Toronto free newspaper which is surprisingly good) when this tanned, ambiguously Asian and very, very unshaven man in his 30s or 40s walked in, whispering and mumbling unintelligible gibberish to himself, and sat on the seat facing me horizontally.

Aware of the man's presence, disturbed but yet unwilling to move away from my seat and thus concede that I was in fact disturbed, I continued reading the metro and attempted to ignore the man. Unfortunately, as the train moved along its path, the man's murmurings got louder, and they sounded increasingly agitated.

He then brushed my shoulder and murmured something to the effect of "Hey you talking to me? What you say to me?" To which I replied, as calm as I could, that I did not say anything, and I continued reading my paper.

This, however, seemed to agitate the man further, and it was not long after I turned away and began to read the metro again that his murmurings grew more and more loud, and angrier still. He then began to start shoving me and punching me on my shoulder, with increasing strength, several times - which I ignored, trying to keep a steely disposition all the while.

It was after a few shoves, however, that the man slammed his fist on the back of my seat hard enough so that the entire carriage had heard, and was staring at him and me. I turned to the man in shock, and he asked me the same question he had asked me before, with even more menace and anger than he had the last time, "Are you saying something to me?"

I once more said that I wasn't, and, unable to ignore danger and a potential fistfight, I picked up my bag and walked to the nearest subway doors, where I stood waiting for the next station - Old Mill. When the train finally reached the Old Mill station, which has a subway platform overlooking the Humber River several dozen feet below, I got off - but couldn't resist looking at the crazed man in the face, in an attempt to "read" him.

This, however, drove the man totally nuts and as the subway doors closed behind me, he stood up and started gesticulating wildly at me, while smashing his fists on the train's window panels, while behind him, bewildered elderly women and their young grand children watched.

It took a lot of willpower to not show him the bird, or to bang on the window back and yell something at my assailant, but I somehow managed to turn around and just look at the beautiful flowing river below me, which I continued looking at until the train left the station.

I've seen my share of crazies, in Singapore and Toronto both, but this is the first time I have been... in such contact with one of them. Pris said that you don't see this kinda thing in Singapore, to which I don't exactly agree with. Within cities such as Toronto and Singapore lie such powerfully stark dualities; here we have Spadina, what one of my professors last year described "the dark underbelly of capitalism", home - if you would call it that - to too many homeless people, beggars, crackheads and the like, and yet barely 15 minutes away lies businessey Bay Street, with trendy, chic Queen St even nearer.

Back in Singapore, you don't have to stray too far from the beauty and cleanliness of the city to see its own darker side. The infamous lorongs of Geylang lie sandwiched between the lovely downtown's Singapore's eastern borders and the gorgeously scenic East Coast area. The duality in Singapore is, however, most stark on Orchard Road itself. Right in the heart of the city's lively entertainment district, its immaculately clean Orchard Road stretch, with the majestic maroon twin Takashimaya towers at its core, we can see this. You barely have to walk five minutes from Orchard's subway exit to reach Orchard Towers, a highrise den of prostitution and promiscuity, nestled amidst embassies, corporate office buildings, cinemas and the like. Need I even mention Desker? Joo Chiat?

London was the same. Vancouver even more so. And so, I feel, is Hong Kong.

Big cities attract the good - and the very worst, perhaps - that humanity has. For every sharply dressed go-getter in a Harry Rosen suit standing on Bay Street, there is a homeless man waking up from a daze on a street corner at noon, absently realizing that whatever money he had had been invested the night before in the empty bottle of cheap alcohol that lay behind him, and in the burned out ash remains of the spliff that stained the pavement not far from where he now lies. Yin and Yang, perhaps.

I have been pondering about this for too long; it's already 0330 hrs and I've gotta be up in less than six hours. I haven't slept well at all lately.

Good night.

bedridden again

2006-10-26T21:19:00.000-04:00

Yes, like the title says, I got hurt again. This time, because of an even dumber reason.

On Monday the 23rd, having left my damned-to-hell economics online homework (due Monday morning) until Sunday night, resulting in horrific zombie-like mad rush to finish it before I was conquered by slumber the night before, I woke up at nine-thirty with exactly half an hour's time for me to get ready, eat, wash up, grab the keys and hop into the Dad's camry to speed off onto the QEW to school.

Twenty-five minutes later, still needing to brush my teeth, having scarfed down a deceptively filling bagel-with-the-works and a big glass of orange juice while rapidly wearing my clothes, I realized I was running a bit late.

Still half dressed, I bent down to the foot of my bed, stooped over without my knees bent, and rummaged at the little pile of textbooks, files and misc. stationery lying there, fervently throwing various items into my backpack.

It was then that I suffered a mild coughing fit, and for a few seconds was wracked with uh, coughs. But somehow, one of the cough-induced convulsions pulled one of my muscles while I was bent over so, and I felt a bolt of pain jolt up my back, and my knees lost their strength.

I tried keeping myself upright, but even more pain tore through me. I eventually managed to maneuver myself to the bed where I lay on my side in a fetal position, the only position which didn't cause inordinate amounts of pain to explode through me. There I lay moaning embarrassingly for much of Monday, while my Mum asked me why I "wanted to be so clumsy".

It has been four days since and I have, for the most part, been lying in my bed. The pain has largely subsided - especially after I went to the hospital yesterday and got a morphine jab, which I am thankful for, not so much however for the inch-wide bruise caused by the inept-if-friendly Filipino nurse - and today, for the first time since I got hurt, I have been able to get by relatively painlessly without having to resort to the plethora of painkillers of various strengths that lie on the bedside table to my right. I have even walked down the stairs today.

I understand that I haven't blogged consistently. I haven't, for various reasons, all of which are good.

I do write this entry now, however, for an even better reason. I am tired of explaining to people that I got hurt by "bending down", "picking up my bag" or "coughing".

im a soph

2006-09-11T21:23:00.000-04:00

i hope i havent lost everyone who reads this by now with a summer of updates few and far between. so many half written posts, so many great ideas i had to write something on the subway back never materialized.

perhaps this was due to me going thru a coupla things at the same time whilst juggling school that have sidetracked me from properly blogging regularly... or maybe its because ive not been blogging, that ive neglected the fact that blogging has for the past year-plus been a form of release for negative energy and the pent up energy has caused me to uh, not blog?

whatever the case, here i am on the first day of the new semester, which ironically begins on 9/11. somehow i feel so very tired and ive only had 2 hours of class today. i dont know whats with me. i think its probably the lack of sleep or something, but what the heck, ya know, i gotta drag myself to school tomorrow for evening classes. at least i can look forward to good things after that (hehe) but right now i just wanna get some serious shut-eye.

here's to a better year ahead, with properly planned schedules, a good regular workout plan, etc. im gonna try and get back into balling too, so i dont embarrass myself next gryphons cup or *touches wood* incur another debilating injury.

but right now i just dont feel up to more school. oh well. i probably sound really dull now, and i probably sound really dull in person if youve met me recently, but summer i guess really has drained me muchly. studying that intensely isnt meant for summers, like there was any other choice.

...

weird ass dream no. 3252355745

2006-08-27T10:42:00.000-04:00

Ha ha.

I had the weirdest dream in a while; I dreamt that I was a soldier running around this urban futuristic battle zone, which had trees and stuff as cover... but the battle zone was covered in these large winding drains, like a swimming pool maze. I was swimming in these narrow little drains from cover to cover, clutching my rifle, to avoid these huge blasts that went off in the distance and sent powerful gusts of forceful wind and debris flying all over the place.

The next thing I remember is looking through a bird's eye view of the battle around me, and I saw three "army men" green-coloured plastic toys "camping" outside an enemy "spawn point" (which was a troop transport), valiantly blowing up the enemy tan-coloured soldiers which emerged from it. For SOME reason, those 3 "army men" toys had the names and faces of my friends, whom I won't really name but... lets call them Ah Ding, Pat and KT.

Sadly, my 3 toy soldier comrades' hitpoints were quickly deteriorating because although they blew up the bad guys when they immediately spawned out of the "spawn point", the baddies kept coming and my comrades' had limited HP. So they got blown up, too.

Back to me - I realized that I was nearby to where my toy comrades had fallen, so I remember going to the army base which had recovered their remains to pay my respects to them. For some reason, when I dream, I always end up lost in huuuuuuge monolithic buildings with hundreds of storeys and an endless towering expanse of winding staircases and lift lobbys and empty stairwells. This time was no different, with the army base looking like an old school campus, blocky and all cement, but entirely covered in a thin layer of dust and glowing dimly in the dusky orange light of the desert sun.

(Come to think of it in many of my dreams I'm running around strangely huge buildings with no exits and lots of stairs, corridors and lifts leading to more stairs, corridors and lifts.)

I raced up flights of dust-covered steps to a medical bay where my fallen comrades were, and saluted them with my rifle. Then this old senior commander walked into the room and said, "What the heck are you doing here? You're supposed to be out in the field! Do you think you can throw your weight around just because you got promoted?"

(Promoted? I remember looking down at my shoulder and seeing the same three stripes that should be there, there. Weird.)

Unaware of my promotion, I replied angrily that I was just paying my respects to my old friends, (toys though they might be haha) and that I should at least be given that right. I then turned sharply to my right and started marching away from the dumbass occifer.

STRANGELY (and embarrassingly) enough, on my way out of the base, as I was walking down another endless flight of stairs, I realized that I was walking barefoot, and that my feet were injured or something, so I had to go find a Medical Officer to uh, get me an "excuse boots" status. Haha. The last image I see is of me walking in my blue-and-orange slippers which I bought from Marine Parade for 12 bucks. Haha.

The heck.

Dear God,

2006-08-04T06:30:00.000-04:00

Dear God,

I know I haven't been praying much.
But if it is Thy will,
Please, please, please let this Cup pass.

Amen.

Your unworthy servant,
Joel Ong

2006-08-04T00:41:00.000-04:00

I've not been updating this because for the most part of summer, I've been caught up in work and in readings and a nonstop slew of tests. Apologies.

Something more important has happened, however.

For the first time in my life, I feel as if an ominous dark cloud has descended over me. As if the Hope that I had found, the Hope that had found a place in my heart, was now under threat of being mercilessly ripped out and trampled underfoot.

I don't know what to do now. I feel cold... and alone, and powerless to do anything.

taijiquan put into practice

2006-07-16T14:56:00.000-04:00

I have been doing a term paper on Taijiquan (Tai Chi) for the last week or so, and have been increasingly intruiged by the its... concepts. Especially that of "wu-wei", which can be bluntly um explained as "action by nonaction", flowing one's body with the Tao of nature or something.

Since I have no way of um physically practising Taijiquan since I don't know it - I did nearly join the TJQ club in school though, haha - I've tried to embrace "wu-wei"-ness in my endeavours in...

STREET FIGHTER ALPHA III...

... to no avail, however. My paltry attempts to flow with the course of the battle with my Ryu / Ken / Sakura / Cammy end up with me getting hit while trying to pull of fancy counter maneuvers, which pisses me off and makes me very tempted to revert to my previous Street Fighter philosophy of attacking like mad and trying to Shinryuken the hell out of the opponent in 20 seconds.

Maybe I will oneday grasp these concepts and become the ultimate Street Fighter. In the meantime, however, I am gonna lose a lot.

yi jianlian

2006-07-13T02:17:00.000-04:00

I just had to put this here... it's a Chinese Nike basketball ad. I won't spoil it for you but it's too cool for words, and not what you'd expect.

The tall guy, Yi Jianlian, is gonna be so awesome.

the dionysian within

2006-07-10T02:50:00.000-04:00

I think that in my teenage years, I tried very hard to help the people around me, not just to gain their respect or goodwill, but to make them better, honestly, because in doing so I felt I could move them toward better things.

About a year and a half ago, before I turned twenty, all this came tumbling down on me in a few unrelated events where I realized that all this helping would come to nothing since I cared about people more than they did about me. That was when a number of long friendships came to a jarring halt, because I had the idiocy to put myself in situations where I was always stupidly willing to give more than I got, and being the sheer weakling that I was then, I always expected the best out of people, expected the same in return.

Months later I emerged, determined not to repeat my mistakes, and I realized that doing things for, well, myself wasn't a bad thing. Self preservation isn't a crime - though taking from others is a crime - and I guess there is a balance that must be kept.

Having spent my entire teenage life trying to put everyone in front of me in an almost religiously zealous way had left me totally exhausted and jaded, I guess it was at this point where I actually shifted toward the balance - where I began to accept the fact that looking out for Mr. Joel instead of the many people around me wasn't a crime, where I began to question anew my idea of what was "good".

Nietzsche says in Beyond Good and Evil that the point where one questions one's own immorality is a step on the a flight of stairs which, at the highest point one will question one's own morality.

Perhaps it is that point where I questioned my own morality, on hindsight. Where I realized that the notions of "right" and "wrong" were mere subjective notions. It is probably around this time where I turned to literature for answers, and I fortunately (or unfortunately) chanced upon Oscar Wilde's body of work.

Back then, the Joel who was then so used to being concerned with doing "right" things, who had too often borne the cross of putting others in front of him 24/7 was instantly delighted with Oscar Wilde's devilishly irresistable duo: Lord Henry and Dorian Gray. How they revelled in the moment, taking pleasure in precisely doing and saying that which would cause controversy, not just because it was meant to provoke, but because they could.

It is perhaps a sad, funny and cruel thing to say that my first taste of inspiration to be liberated from the laypeoples' (or, what Nietzsche would call the "herd man") sense of morality from a pair of Oscar Wilde's flamboyantly homosexual hedonists - especially Dorian Gray, who finally meets the deserving, vile fate he admittedly had coming for his accumulated actions.

However, it is from these two, as well as Oscar Wilde's other flagrantly colourful characters that I realized that I had so mired myself in trying to fix other peoples' issues that I had forsaken mine, and that this imbalance had caused so much detriment to myself through all those years. I had in fact forsaken my own needs to the point where I had foolishly tried not to lie for a week, and had pissed off numerous schoolmates / friends in the process.

It is from Wilde's characters that I realized that life was well and truly meant to be lived, not spent worrying 24/7 about grand metaphysical issues and weighing the consequences of my every action.

And so it is that I find myself today between my teenage past and my relatively newer revelation.

Between that teenage boy who tried his best to emulate Jesus and the Saints but ultimately found himself lacking, who cried out and tore at himself for not being able to carry the burden of everyone else, and ended up being wracked with guilt for not being able to do so. Found himself an ignorantly asleep Apostle at the Garden of Gethsemane, found his flesh perpetually too weak, though his spirit was all too willing to plunge itself - and the flesh that encompassed it - into gauntlet after gauntlet of pain, in order to strive for an ideal of... morality. Of goodness.

Between the person who picked himself up when he turned 20, who embraced himself for the first time as if he was reborn, who was so delighted at Lord Henry and Dorian Gray's antics. The person who had begun to question his morality, and subsequently threw caution into the wind, emancipating and embracing the caged, enraged Dionysus within him who had slept all these years, denied by "slave morality" (Nietzsche's term) all this time.

Where am I now?

I think I've changed in the year-plus since I turned twenty. I know I've been humbled by events - by serious physical injury, by... something sacred, far greater than myself. By other things.

Where am I now?

2006-07-09T01:42:00.000-04:00

I'm back from the shower, my hair is wet and if I was a girl I'd be "waiting for my hair to dry", but I'm a guy, so this just means I'm being lazy to dry my own hair. Inane fact but there you go.

I probably have given the impression that... in my recent lack of posts and uh, depressive tone of writing that I've been unhappy. Actually, I've been happier in the last five months than I probably have been in 20 years combined. More... comfortable, more at ease with myself than... ever.

Today, however, ever since the sun set, I've been overcome by this foreboding sense of uneasiness. I cannot explain it, can't put words to this strange feeling. Perhaps it's just the pent up stress of the last few weeks, mild as it has been, but gradually building into this huge mountain. I feel that I need to lie down for a week and not watch a youtube video, not talk to anyone, not read anything, just lie down in a hammock by the lake and look into the blueness of the sky, gaze into eternity and find myself in it.

I've been doing a course on religion, RLG 100, as one of my electives, and I realize more and more that, well, my own "religious quest" has been sorely misguided. When I was in my early-to-mid teens, I sought out catechist after church group leader after priest, trying to squeeze them for answers, trying to... find answers for these questions I had.

As much as they tried to help me, the more I asked, the more I felt that I was getting the same stock replies: a quote from John here, bits of a Psalm, etc. These answers would normally help a regular... believer. But I'm not regualr, not normal.

The questions I asked that made me feel so alone were being threatened time and time again by dogmatic prattle, but somehow they have survived and I haven't "bought" into them.

No, dogma holds no more answers today than they have a thousand years ago, and the same questiosn go unanswered. I still wish I could touch that divinity I think once felt, however. I don't know if I really did anymore, though. I wish I could.

Where are You...?

People who are close to me know how skeptical and cynical as I am... at the very same time, something drastic happened to me when I was seventeen that couldn't have possibly been chance - and I saved a life in the process. That incident, I recall, did strengthen my "faith" once I realized its significance.

Sigh.

a weekend's respite

2006-07-09T01:13:00.000-04:00

It's late Saturday night and half of the summer is over, in a slew of tests, term papers and more tests. I haven't written anything of note since regular school term ended in May, which now seems like an eternity ago.

For some reason, I haven't been writing here that much. I've been tired, and things have been happening quickly.

Somehow I feel that things are slipping away, that I'm losing my grip of things, as if things are changing too fast for me to handle. It's been almost a year since I came here, since I moved. So many things have happened, some good and some bad.

The last time I reflected on things was probably some time in the middle of February or March, halfway through the Spring term, and before I know it, it's mid July and half of summer is over.

I feel lost, as if I've lost sight of my purpose in life, even if it only is for the last few hours which have brought me here to write... these down. I'm at a point where I see my past and present and future all at once, as if I'm at the top of a building and can see the horizon before and behind me, and for a bit, just for a bit right now, I'm scared.

Maybe besides that, for the first time too in a while I've felt... lonely. No, that's not the right word to use, but there isn't a closer word to describe it. For more than a year, I have never felt the need for social contact; as if social contact was a plus, but I have never felt uncomfortable faced with the prospect of spending an entire day alone by myself, or a week or so even.

Now... I don't know what's come over me. I know I'm just writing this as I, as I feel it out, and that maybe in an hour I might forget how I am feeling right now, but here I am and here it is.

I've been thinking so much lately, of the past, of memories and friends and people who once were important but due to circumstance, can't be... I mean, people who I can't be around, I don't know what's gotten into me. I'm never like this, and I just have to get this out here before I implode from all the thoughts that are inside my head and eating at me all of a sudden, although I have no clue where they come from.

I'm going to have a bath and pull myself together.

invisible octopi

2006-06-29T21:27:00.000-04:00

I know I've been linking to tons of youtube videos lately, but I just have to put this here. It is too awesome for words. Too awesome for words.

a burden...?

2006-06-18T00:06:00.000-04:00

For some reason, for the past year or so I realize that I've had this constant nagging feeling that I've been a burden. To my friends, to my family, to everyone.

As much as I've tried not to.

When I was discharged from NS, not wanting to financially... sponge off my relatives' money, I took 2 jobs immediately, working six-plus days a week to try and live off my own work. Tried to lessen the load of dependency that I'm putting on everyone's shoulders.

Then I got hurt; I screwed up my knee and tore enough shit in there to seriously worry my orthopaedic surgeon of an uncle. I couldn't walk, was bedridden right away, had to have surgery which cost several, several grand right away.

The doors I once held open for old ladies, older gentlemen and girls were now being held open for me by the same people who I once tried to help. My first day in U of T, forgetting my own plight, I offered to help these 2 kids move their stuff... and got laughed at. Smooth.

I haven't earnt a cent since I stopped working at the magazine... I don't know. And from what I've been told all I bring is "hatred and sarcasm", that I'm "possessed by the devil" even. Am I that much of a burden, not just financially but psychologically now?

Logically, I know I'm not. I am trying my best to do whatever I... try to do. I don't know why I feel this way. But now I have to let a friend down about something. I don't like breaking promises, don't want to add to anyone else's busy-ness and responsibilities but it seems that's all I've been doing nowadays.

It's not even that I'm self-centered, am I? Don't I try and help people when I can? Why then do I feel so hurt inside, for no apparent reason other than myself? Why do I feel that all I've done is bring people down, unwittingly or not?

Maybe it did start with the knee. Maybe up to that point I felt invincible, I felt that I could be depended on to get things done and to add to the solution, not the problem. Maybe its just my ego getting the better of me, lamenting the fact that I no longer was a plus... but a minus.

Whatever the case, I suddenly just can't shake this stupid feeling that I'm a minus, that I subtract from things, that I'm a detriment to people, that I'm just not helping, that I'm increasing someone else's burden, that I am someone else's burden, that I'm making people miserable, making them upset, making them cry... that I'm letting someone down at every turn whether I try to or not.

I've never felt so absolutely negative in my life. I need to lie down.

why argentina will win the world cup

2006-06-17T20:54:00.000-04:00

Argentina is so gonna win the World Cup, though we shall see how true this is in a month. Whoever saw them play Serbia & Montenegro the other day would have seen a selfless attacking efficient machine at work. Watching the Copa America 2 years ago, this is the team that really caught my eye - not Brazil.

Here's Carlos Tevez's goal where he literally humiliates two defenders in a tremendous solo goal... even the commentator was speechless, reduced to chuckling into the mic.

And here's probably the most brilliant teamwork I have ever seen in my life - on a real soccer match or in Winning Eleven - Cambiasso's goal that put Argentina up 2-0.

stackhouse vs shaq

2006-06-17T17:20:00.000-04:00

Damn you Jerry Stackhouse. This is wayyy too flagrant a foul.

I mean in my time I've fouled people hard. I accidentally barged into this fat guy a head taller than me running for a loose ball in sec 4 during our Zone competitions, with the collision sending us both to the floor. I was so winded after that, since the dude was easily 15 kg heavier and probably 182cm tall, but no one came to my aid as I lay on the floor. Then I got up and realized why: when the dude hit the floor he dislocated his hand and he was um pretty, pretty messed up. Ouch.

One knee surgery and 5 years later, and after a lot more basketball, I realize that basketball is at the end of the day... just a game. Good advice that a Serangoon Gardens CC ah beng told me when I was fifteen or so that right now makes more sense: winning may mean a lot, but at the end of the day, its a game.

Playing dirty might be um fun and all, but there's a line to be drawn when you do something that borders on the confines of being called for a technical foul, or worse.

So take a look at Jerry Stackhouse's NBA Finals game 4 flagrant foul on Shaq: he basically ran across the floor, shoulder barged into the dude and just smacked him across his body. This is the kind of foul that ends careers. Way, way, wayyy too hard.

joel's first haiku

2006-06-11T21:11:00.000-04:00

I walked on the path

To find true enlightenment

And found a goldfish.

sick

2006-06-09T14:29:00.000-04:00

In Book 2 of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman series, The Doll House, an old couple living in a big house in rural America locks their unwanted nephew in their basement to rot, all the while collecting the welfare support money that the government sends them to take care of the child.

What just sickened me halfway through my lunch is the fact that in downtown Toronto, the very same thing happens today. How an elderly couple in their 50s can starve and effectively kill their own 5-year old grandson is beyond me. How any of the other six adults in the house can do this to a child over years and years, all the while getting on with their regular lives is just a sick, sick thought.

Sentencing these people to 20 years in jail isn't the solution. They didn't feel any remorse when they watched the poor kid suffer, let him live and sleep in his own urine and fecal matter, drink from a toilet. They didn't feel anything all this while, when they treated him like he was "invisible"; a "non-person"; locked him in an unheated, cold, dark room all day long as he wasted away into nothingness.

The only remorse they have felt is the loss of a few extra government cheques.

So instead of sentencing them to 20 years in jail and wasting thousands of dollars of government money supporting these murderers, I propose a sixty-cent solution to the problem...

02 X 5.56 mm FMJ rounds to the head

... since they have all eternity to think about remorse when they burn in hell.

Ugh...

singapore idol

2006-06-07T02:27:00.000-04:00

Singapore Idol sucks so much... so, so much.

I remember two years back when the first season cursed the airwaves...

Quite possibly the worst thing about it was the commercial for it: if you guys remember it, it featured Gurmit Singh and the judges doing some really ridiculously lame dance moves and trying to look cool with a backdrop of glitzy classic "idol" graphics.

I remember watching the ad for the first time with some friends (i forget who), making snide sarcastic comments at it and laughing my head off thinking that it was a spoof commercial... but when the commercial came to an end and the punch-line to the alleged spoof never materialized, I was left gaping in shock at the utter lameness of the commercial.

In other words, what I thought was supposed to be a funny spoof commercial of the judges and Gurmit making fun of themselves... was the actual commercial itself for the show. Horror and embarrassment.

Gurmit Singh MIGHT have been "cool" a decade ago when he was hosting those nightlife variety shows where all he did was run around from club to club interviewing kids dancing to bad trance music... or when he had his own comedy show, which wasn't half bad. But not now. He tries to be funny... but no.

No.

What adds to this cheesiness is the fact that nobody really did win Singapore Idol 1: since both Taufik and that King of Bengs himself, Sly both signed recording contracts. This not only took away from the fact that the (admittedly talented) Taufik had clearly outperformed the Sylvester in the finals... it also made the who finals show a mere farce. It took away from the credibility of winning the nation-wide performance, something I feel that Taufik deservedly umm, did.

What made it EVEN worse was that for months after the series ended, in an attempt to take advantage of the publicity from the show, BOTH performers were made to parade themselves and make joint public appearances TOGETHER all over the place. Geez.

Uber-ly gay.

I'm not gonna be around to watch this season of Singapore Idol but o hare-brained producers, please grow some balls and make a show which actually has some credibility. Please.

Then again since nothing substantial has been produced since they took the extremely hilarious Ra-Ra Show (which featured the immensely talented Kumar and the young duo of Koh Chieng Mun and Andrew Tan) off the air since it was deemed to have wayyy too many "dirty jokes" for the viewing public, I wouldn't expect much.

blue men

2006-06-05T07:50:00.000-04:00

I jolted awake out of bed at 7am this morning with a strange dream. In my dream I was driving around alone and the sun was going to set on a cloudy, soggy day... when I stopped my car at a very quaint brown-brick building and got in.

I think... the building was a library or something, and it had this warm glow emanating from within, the kind of aura that radiates from camp fires on cold windy nights. I remember walking inside the building, then stopping in front of a big wooden-framed mirror and gazing into its depths.

All of a sudden, a ghastly apparition of a bald man filled the entire mirror; he had sickly blue skin, and an accusing, piercing look to his eyes, his face an expression of... of shock, of fear or extreme agitation, I couldn't tell. His skin might have been blue, but very red blood was coursing down his face, down between his clenched teeth.

That instant where the blue man appeared seemed to stretch forever, long enough for me to remember in great detail the man's face. And then, the mirror shattered. Cracks began to spontaneously form through the mirror, dividing it into a thousand shards; within each shard, a blue man stared piercingly at me. The next (and last thing) I remember was the mirror shards losing their integrity and falling onto me as the army of thousands of blue faces rained down on me.

embarrassing moments

2006-05-30T18:38:00.000-04:00

I just went on a shopping trip to buy groceries and got back finding my zip open. MAN. Second time in a week.

The weather has been downright vulgar for the last few days... and all hell broke loose yesterday in Toronto when the transit system workers went on strike... more on that soon.

Ugh.

hmm... back.

2006-05-29T01:29:00.000-04:00

Hello peoples, I'm back. Back from what, I don't know. Two weeks of procrastinating from writing here, I guess. As usual, lots of stuff's been happening, but I just haven't got to writing it down.

driving
In this time, my dad's been back in South East Asia and China doing business, so the car has been um, mine. I've never driven around so much, and at first it was tiring driving through and fro from my house to the subway station or downtown every other day, but I've gotten used to the hour long commute by now.

I heard on the radio the other day that a correlative study has been made and like, it shows that the longer a person spends behind the wheel, the higher his/her stress level (and tendency to be obese). I think driving is kinda stressful to most people I guess, but I find driving to be extremely fun. I tell my dad that driving is fun but that throws him into "a car is a deadly weapon in the wrong hands, you have to responsible yada yada" rant.

Personally, I think driving is therapeutic; not that my family has a fancy car - I drive a 2000 or so Camry - but honestly, I love driving so much, it's downright addictive once you get better at it and stop being nervous whenever big trucks come near you or brain dead pedestrians with a deathwish pull crazy stunts around you.

So, yeah. Moral of story: driving is fun. And it can be done responsibly. Haha it seems that I see some poor schmuck getting caught by the police for speeding right before my eyes every other day. Speed is overrated... a five year old can press down on the pedal and make a car hit 140 kmph. What isn't half so easy is the little things - the ability to brake smoothly so your passengers don't feel like puking at every traffic junction, to transition from braking to accelerating whilst cornering, etc. Loser poseur speed demons can kiss my ass... since most of em have the skill levels of five year olds. And like if you knew your shit you'd know better than to speed at places where tons of police cars lurk in the side roads, haha.

(I think this is why I'm not that great with Grand Theft Auto... since I drive around trying to follow traffic rules. When I manage to steal a bike in GTA, on the other hand, it's a whole different story haha.)

boat cruise
Ooh I went on a boat cruise this Friday for the birthday party of my twice-removed (ie. second degree) Woman. Very awesome party, and embarrassingly enough, the first time in my life I wore anything remotely formal to an event. Took very cool pictures, though! And it was a tremendous pity that Friday was foggy, cuz the view was already fantastic as it was, and it would've been even more magical were we all able to see the Toronto skyline in a clear sunsetey golden sky.

summer school
Summer school so far's been aight. Not too great, I'm doing MGT 252 Marketing and RLG 100 World Religions... not half bad classes on their own but I'm not reaaally feeling school at all, somehow. I'll give em a chance, though, since the professors are good people and the textbooks are getting interesting for both classes.

Ugh readings for tmr. Ugh.

driving in the rain

2006-05-16T02:23:00.000-04:00

There's something poetic about driving alone in the incessant spring rain (it's been raining all night) at 12 am, slow jazz music playing on the radio.

Something almost romantic... because you're so alone, its so dark and its, well, romantic because it isn't. If that makes sense. Just cruisin' along with misty, steamy fog in front of your headlight beams; its times like these which make you think.

Think about good memories, about everything in the past and present that make you smile, that make you shed tears, or both. Think about people who've touched your life and how nice it is to be with them, because as you drive down the empty lanes, as your car's wheels cut through the sloshy puddles of water, there isn't anyone out there but you, and you can't help but think.

I thought I would have written something more eloquent here, when I was in the car I was pretty sure I would have a really good entry. But words just fail me here again. Maybe I'm too tired, I had two cappucino's last night and as a result didn't sleep till four am.

I'm off to bed. Good day.

...

2006-05-14T00:55:00.000-04:00

If anyone's noticed, I've been pretty disturbed emotionally lately, for the past month or so.

I'm fine. It's just that I buried some emotions that got in the way earlier this year, some really deep emotions, covered some deeply hurting wounds with makeshift handiplast; as a result, I've probably shown the world the semblance of someone who's very in control, someone who's cocky, even.

The truth is that I'm hurting inside, more than I have ever been, and that this wound has been tearing me up bit by bit, and now with the exams over I've had nothing to do that can exhaust my energies to the point where I don't have to worry about this issue.

I used to get all emo and stuff, but I've learned the hard way to suck it up and... and keep workin, keep fighting. But for the past week, I've... had nothing to occupy me. I have to face this... thing which's fucked with my head and made me reconsider my entire life, consider whether everyhing's been a farce.

I feel like crying right now but I won't. And my chest really hurts from all of this.

asuka

2006-05-13T18:47:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking, about why I am what I am, why I do the things that I do. What my motivations are.

Recently, someone compared me to Neon Genesis Evangelion's Asuka - yeah, the hottie in red - who incidentally happens to be my favourite character in the Evangelion series.

I realize that I love Asuka because (okay, besides her body-hugging red flight suit) of her personality - on the surface, at least, she deals with her issues by channelling her frustrations into working harder than everyone else at striving to succeed, to fight better than her colleagues Rei and Shinji and outdo them at every turn. In this, she largely succeeds... and this is why I love her, because I realize that my friend was right - I deal with situations the same way.

Which brings me to the question: is everything I've achieved just that - just the sublimation of me running away? I've said it myself, and I really feel this way - I've strived for the past 20 years to be something bigger than myself; I realize I've strived to be "the perfect son", "the perfect student"... and then, in my later teens I misguidedly tried to be "Mr. Nice Guy" all the time.

Has all that I've done (not that I've done a lot, mind you, but I'm just... I'm just sayin') been done not because of me trying to reach for something higher, but rather, because I've just tried to push myself to outdo everything and be the best possible person I can be... just because I wanted (whoever it was) to accept me, to love me? A 20 year long attempt to attract attention and be loved for what I am...?

Is it perhaps because of my place as elder brother in the family, that I grew up having to think about other peoples' problems, grew up taking responsibility for things that were never mine? That I feel a burden of responsibility for the well being of everyone around me, that I feel obliged to help and set things right? And at the same time outdo them, thus maintaining the status quo??

I don't know, man. Am I really running away...? And it's frustrating because whatever I'm doing never has seemed good enough for... for people who matter, or at least that's how I feel. Straight A's in every subject - but what does that buy me? It seems to me now that I could be failing in school, be a failure in the army or in life and... it wouldn't make a difference to the people who matter, right...?

Perhaps I did mould myself into the "perfect son" to please people, to seek attention, to gain acceptance. But at a point, I think it became innate, it "internalized", this motivation to achieve greater. At some point I guess it melded with the chip on my shoulder that my basketball coach placed when I was in 13 to form this... motivating force that drives me to this day.

However, back to the root of things. I think I have begun to realize that I have to stop striving and outdoing stuff for other people, and to do things for myself. External motivation can only... get you so far, I think. And I probably have been successful so far in doing this, in shifting my paradigm. I don't have to compromise my fire, my motivation, my drive...

I stopped being "Mr. Nice Guy" more than a year ago when I realized that living to please someone else won't cut it - you just set yourself up for heartbreak. You set yourself up for losing yourself, losing everything... but for what? I had forgotten a lesson I learned in BMT (basic military training), when one day it dawned upon me that when it came to the wire, when someone's ass is on the line, people are always gonna look out for their own interests. They will save themselves first, and only when they can will they lend a hand.

It's not something I should've been bitter about, even though I was bitter for a while - my friends noticed it and talked me out of it - but like, back then I was such a kid, I thought everyone would help you out if you tried your best and helped them first.

I've been going around in circles, but that's how I think, so there. I guess I very much am a work in progress, but I'm going to continue to strive to outdo myself (most importantly), to push myself to... to actualize my potential, I guess. I don't think I'm even close to it, but unless I ever "self actualize" (in a Maslow-ish, humanistic sense) won't I be a waste of a human being? Unless everyone does, don't they waste all their years away, like a badly developed RPG character who wastes his skill points and level ups on lame skills and statistics?

Still. I've written an entire page on this and I haven't figured myself out yet. I don't want to run away anymore. I don't want to please anyone anymore, don't want to make myself some... some trophy for anyone's ego. I can't do this anymore, I don't want to live my life for anyone else anymore.

It just scares me to the, to the core - the possiblity that all this I've done, whatever I may have achieved as a person - all this could've been just a symptom, an avenue to run away into. That all this time, when I've thought that I've been trying to reach higher than I could before... I could've possibly just been running, running farther away from... from things.

I don't want to run away any more.

ramblings

2006-05-06T22:19:00.000-04:00

Saturday night, haven't really left my house / room all day. Not that I feel like going anywhere today. It's been barely two days since I stepped out of an examination hall and I already feel really, really restless.

Not that I mind holidays; I love holidays, in fact. Just not long ones. Maybe this is why every long holiday I have, every extended break I have had since I was a kid, I end up in this jumpy semi depressive state.

In my last days in the army, I had barely ORD-ed before I found two jobs to occupy me, though after working 6+ days a week for a fortnight I exhausted myself and quit one of them. Hell, during my days in the army, when my buddies were out drinking or doing dumb stuff, I locked myself in the bunk with an SAT prep book hoping to better my SAT grades (which I did by a hundred points before I was done).

My point is, and perhaps as someone pointed out recently, I'm something of a workoholic. I don't think I'm uh a really "intense" workoholic (like umm someone my NS buddies would call "seriousss!"). But I'm something of one nonetheless, and the sudden vaccuum of purpose which has hit me is just so much in pure stark contrast to the almost manic studying state I've been in for the last month and a half that well, maybe I don't really know how to handle this.

Add this to the fact that in the last week or so of my exams, I had been really emotional about certain things, certain nagging worries, certain little doubts buzzing and biting at my consciousness like a horrible black swarm of insistent flies. And now I have to face them? But what if I don't want to, what if all this emotions I've been putting off, I don't want to face them, or am not ready? Hell, what if... if you asked me what's been bothering me these last few weeks, I wouldn't be able to answer? Because I don't bloody know?

I really stressed out, burnt myself out during the last few days of my exams. Particularly because of my math exam. No, well, not because of my math exam but it sure seemed so. I barely slept, I sat in my chair from the minute I woke up until the deepest loneliest hours of the night throwing myself at test paper after test paper, chapter after chapter of economics and math. Honestly, I do not stress over academic stuff, not really ever. I do create a level of tension within myself but that's just to drive myself from that steep slippery slope of complacency into the bowels of vanilla mediocrity. Fucking, fucking mediocrity.

No, this shitty restlessness of a million thoughts appearing and disappearing from my consciousness, again and again, appearing long enough to worry or frustrate me, and then disappearing before I can place my finger on its source; this, this I think this was the real reason why I appeared to stress myself out over the last weekend. This horrible looming cloud of negative omnipresent pessimism and apathetic... vibes. It's been sapping my energy, draining my spirit, making me frustrated and jumpy and down and short fused, making me ask myself the question "what is the point, what is the whole damn fucking point?" of what, you ask - of everything, dumbass, of everything.

I want to be alone but right now, no, sometime since the sun set I just have felt this aching sensation of loneliness creep into my soul like some... like some black cancerous tumourous glove choking the life out of me. I was watching the Lakers play the Suns just only, and every time they got outhustled, every time I saw that dolt Kwame or some other Laker get shot over with their hands down I felt even shittier.

Honestly, if you're a seven footer all it takes is for you to raise your hands up to affect a jump shooter's shot, unless he's one of the Great Ones like T-Mac or Kobe to whom pulling up a fadeaway three pointer with two hands in their faces and bodies flying at them is easy. Otherwise, all it takes to defend well is shifting your feet with your hands in the sky.

I hope the Lakers go on to win this game as I type this but when I left halfway through the third quarter their deficit was in the mid 20s. Do something to prove me wrong again please, Mr. Bryant.

So back to my point before I digressed for three paragraphs, I want to be alone right now but its hard for me to feel even more lonely. Right now. In my own house, in my own room in my own bed I feel alone. Alone and lonely and frustrated at God knows what, at these phantasmal frustrations tearing at me since longer than I can remember, since before I realised they were there.

I haven't even been able to take refuge in computer games like I have all school term long. I can beat the arcade with a single token on Street Fighter Alpha 3 with my Ken Masters even if the arcade owner cranks the difficulty up to "Expert" (I did however turn the speed from Turbo down to Normal so the keys on my iMac don't start flying off). I also realize that I have probably completed nearly every great Super Nintendo RPG there is to be completed, umpteen times. All the SNES Squaresoft classics. Castlevania. The Megamans. The Marios and Sonics. The Streets of Rages. The Final Fights, everything.

Maybe what I need is exercise. I haven't gymed at all since school term ended, and recently I was too busy doing paper after paper to go jogging, and once the exams ended well it's not been as warm as it should since I want to go jogging with as little clothing on as possible so I can get tanned. I need endorphins. Perhaps will wake up early tomorrow to jog in the morning freshness if it isn't too cold. Or even if it is maybe I will suit up and go jogging to feel... alive again for once in too long.

I don't know if I've sorted this out by typing all this down, but at least I've written down how I feel at this moment in time. Maybe I'll sort it out later, tomorrow, later this week no wait the week's over. I'll look back and read between the lines of this thing I've typed non stop for maybe the past half hour or so and figure out whats wrong or if there even is anything wrong other than me being... me. Or if this is the norm and the past few months, the past year or so of un-this-ness have been an aberration.

My entire life people have been telling me stuff like "you think too much lah" or "why are you asking these questions? just believe in the Word and pray" but you know what, you people who don't think... you are bastardizing your sentience, spitting on the humanity that is God-given and surrendering yourselves to the cosy, warm and comforting thoughtlessness of the herd. Of mediocrity. So as much as I appreciate your "don't think too much lahs", and as much as you guys are probably "right" (in certain senses of the word) to tell me that, as much as you people mean well and try to comfort me, I can't stop thinking or feeling and I can't stop all these thoughts because they are there. And will be for as long as I live.

I think that God created us all with gifts and our intrinsic abilities. Why did He create me with a mind that wanders and "thinks too much" and questions "His Word"? Why would He created a blaspheming heretic in all His infinite wisdom??

Why is there so much frustration, and why is there also anger there? Anger in my soul lurking inside, for longer than I can remember, a constant chip on my shoulder that drives me on, a furnace which drives me, from which I draw strength to outdo myself at every turn - a furnace which is fueled by every slight, every failure I've faced, every insult every hit to my person...?

Oh whatever, whatever, whatever!

summer!

2006-05-06T03:24:00.000-04:00

done with exams!

exams are over!!! summer is here and ive got summer school and possibly a summer job(?) which i havent applied for but am considering.

whatever! time for some well deserved r and r before i do anything yet! ive been feeling exhausted but really restless the last day or two. whatever. time to read some good books i havent got the chance to read since forever.

"ughhh-!"

2006-05-02T09:08:00.000-04:00

I just woke up, my economics exam is later. I'm prepared for it.

Somehow though I've felt really stressed for no apparent reason over the last few days, because of my math paper, which is very unlike me, since I have never stressed over any silly exam since... May 2001 when over-stressing for a haha Chinese O Level paper was the catalyst for me breaking down into this strange morbid religious crisis that lasted... a while.

I know I should be reading through my eco now but I might as well try and find an outlet for these... thoughts while I'm at this. Plus I type really fast thanks to months of data input haha.

I mean seriously, I might get a bit "spiderish" and edgy when challenges come but like, I've met every test / challenge, be it physical or mental or academic, with an "is that all you've got?"smirk, with the same attitude that my old coach taught us to bring to the table. I seriously don't know what's become of me, but it's over.

It's game time, the shot clock is running down and I've got the ball on the wing. I may be down two, I may be less prepared than I would comfortably like to be, but so what? Isn't this what an RI boy lives for - a challenge to rise to?

I've been on the verge of choking myself, been letting myself down, not giving myself a chance over the last coupla days. For whatever reason, a couple of which might exist, but I'm not gonna attribute this to any of them. Whatever. Let's get this on.

PS. To anyone and everyone who's had to endure me the last coupla days, I'm really sorry. It's done.

(I actually feel better now. Twenty minutes spent writing this not too wasted I guess.)

take that MGT120H!

2006-04-27T12:06:00.000-04:00

haha done with first exam! stupid mgt 120h... was super peeved last night at the online practice tests' horrendous, haphazard answer scheme which was probably done by a disgruntled, underpaid TA perpetuating his troubles on us students.

bah.

anyway MGT120H is history now whoop dee doo.

i woke up this morning with another silly dream which i seemingly had just before i awoke, where i was in this really lovely pristine white cafe with huge glass windows, cheerily lit by the sun's rays from outside, yet managing to have this inexplicably peaceful shady feeling.

anyway, along with me in the cafe were all these other army guys dressed in their no.4 uniforms (thats the green camou uni's)... and they were sitting at these nice round tables eating uh, cream cakes.

i remember walking around the room socializing with the army dudes (i was wearing a no. 4 myself) and like, shaking hands with a lot of people, and i very distinctly remember referring to myself as "lim pei" (ie. "your father"). haha.

and at the counter of the cafe was this big pastry / cake clear display shelf, with a lot of seedy-looking cream cakes... i REMEMBER looking into the crappy display and seeing this plate of big agar-agar (jelly) triangular blocks with a "$0.50" sign in front of it.

haha and there was this mustachio-ed indian dude (who looked like he should be behind a mama stall or a prata joint) who was trying to sell me the cream cakes, but he was telling me, "eat these at your own risk, boy!" what kind of cake shop guy tells his patrons that!?

ha ha. am amused.

an army boy's canteen break in heaven maybe? haha!

happy birthday to myself

2006-04-24T02:28:00.000-04:00

i turned 21 two hours ago...

this has been a good year. quite possibly the best in my entire life in terms of hmm coming into my own person and embracing my "will to power" instead of making excuses or whatever else. a year and a few months ago i still was such a total wuss bag. i think ive grown up since then.

21 is old, man.

... and the oddly negative gloomy thoughts still loom, thoughts about the past, about half-buried graves, about the future and rethinking, reconsidering a lot. im confused and dont know what to think about something. i know i need to be away from a lot of things, i havent had "alone time" in forever.

somehow in those two years spent alone in serangoon gardens (singapore), in all those hours lying alone on the sofa vegetating in front of the ps2 or at the computer... i developed a need for "alone time". i need to be alone where i can do whatever i want and have no one to bother me.

haha. happy birthday indeed.

worst dunks

2006-04-23T11:57:00.000-04:00

So I missed DAY ONE of the NBA Playoffs, I missed a Lebron triple double. Sheesh. Oh well...

Still, found this on youtube just now which is haha pretty lame... the "worst dunks ever in a dunk contest" vid... heh. Makes me feel good about myself knowing NBA players can be haha lame like this.

Nate Robinson's 322398429 million missed attempts this year should be in it too haha.

exam rant

2006-04-22T21:24:00.000-04:00

Have been studying in manic fashion since Thursday morning, every waking hour. Realized underestimated amount of math have to cover, though am in not too shabby shape for rest of papers. Have already covered a third of ECO100. MGT shouldn't be too bad too since the last test was just 3 weeks ago or so, and it covered the entire term's work. PSY is going to be a bitch but if I read PSY whenever I'm not doing any other studying instead of say, a magazine, and treat PSY like recreational reading I'll have time to finish this thing. Can't wait for next Friday when have 2 papers down and can focus on math/eco and finish up these exams, ugh, though shouldn't talk about finishing something I haven't even started. This stuff is really getting to me, and for some reason all these truly stray thoughts keep creeping into the back of my head, all of a sudden all these nagging annoying doubts and whatever else. But will have to ignore all of these since I barely have the time to eat. Have been studying in manic fashion since Thursday morning.

back to the junior block

2006-04-21T00:17:00.000-04:00

I've been working like a manic, crazy man today. I don't know if this is "hitting my stride" finally, or whether it's that I had a little stress attack this afternoon.

It's just as well, anyway, since my plans to go jogging didn't work out at all since my calves are still on fire and I can't even walk down the steps without heavily leaning on the banister. It was a nice day though, with the temps going up to 22 degrees, even though it got kinda cloudy later on. I 've been sitting by my window all day, trying to get a slight tan.

I did so much work today, but I coulda done a lot more if not for the stupid negative panic attack I had mid-afternoon when realized that had underestimated amount of math would have to cover before exam next next week.

I had the weirdest dream last night, one which I remember very very vividly. I dreamt I was back in Raffles Institution at the Junior Block, only that it was a lot more metallic and industrial and had all these crazy twisted elevated walkways crisscrossing across the atrium. Instead of being just four storeys high it reached up a lot, lot higher now.

From where I stood among the metallic walkways I saw this big group of classmates playing around, throwing stuff at each other, running here and there, but they weren't necessarily my RI classmates, but like, kids from all the classes I had ever been in. I can't remember who I saw in that uh big classmate group but I just know it had people from all over the place in it.

I remember turning around and seeing my old form teacher, Mrs. Albar gliding across one of the walkways above me in her usual regal silk traditional Malay get-up, yelling menacingly at some students to be quiet.

The next thing I knew I was on the top level of the Junior Block, trying to make my way around the perimeter walkway surrounding the big gaping atrium. Now, I used to be pretty freaked out back in secondary one when my classroom was on the top floor there, because it To make things worse, in my dream the walkway was a hell of a lot narrower, didn't have railings, and had uh... water flowing over it, coming from these little fountains in the wall, so that the walkway was more like the edge of this big wide gentle waterfall. I know it sounds weird as heck, especially if you've been to the Junior Block. Haha. It was kinda scary in my dream however, because I kept slipping and losing my footing near the edge.

Anyway, I make my way to the end of the walkway somehow, where the toilets should be, and I enter the toilet door and step into a huge cavernous jungle-room with hanging vines and a big clear pool of water in the middle, with a couple of lifeguards (who looked like those Sentosa slacker-lifeguards) standing at the sides of the pool. I remember wading into the pool for a bit.

Somehow, I exit that room back into the main area of the Junior Block, walk up to one of the classroom doors and open it and uh... lo and behold, I found myself walking up a beach path. There were all these people playing volleyball and soccer around me, and their stray balls kept coming my direction. I picked them up and threw them back, one by one, but to my horror I couldn't throw the balls back properly... I forgot how to throw a proper chest pass in my dream, so I threw all the balls back wayyy short or off-target, or really noobishly. How embarrassing.

Then I woke up.

Haha what a weird ass dream.

jogging at rattray marsh

2006-04-18T19:55:00.000-04:00

It's a nice day today, so I went jogging at the lake... there's a park right across the road that connects to the lake, and this neat, biiig marsh which is really nice in the summer.

Spring is here, and it's great and everything to be out again. I hadn't gone to the park/marsh since 2003, even though I've been back here for more than half a year now. My leg's finally okay, and what little snow there was this year is gone too.

A perfect day indeed. I saw so many people walking their dogs... and I like, in the little stream by the path I was jogging on I saw these 2 more-than-a-foot-long salmon(?) swimming up against the current!!!

I know how wrong this sounds but I really felt like hopping in and uh, fishing one of them out of the water like a grizzly bear. Haha. The water was barely 15-20 cm deep and still kinda muddy so I don't think the bugger woulda had much chance.

Sigh... Fun stuff. Whee.

Simon says...

2006-04-16T02:06:00.000-04:00

I'll say it now, and I've said it a million times before: people are inexplicably attracted to "bad", dangerous types, like moths to a flame they know will burn them. And they still gravitate toward them. I could go on for more than a whole page on just why people tend to fall for people who "are bad for them", but I won't. But I will say this:

I know. I've warned so many of my friends from getting involved with "bad boys" or (hmm...) "bad girls", but it never works, and months or even weeks later, I usually can't bear to go "I told you so but nooo... someone had a better idea" into the face of someone who's already in tears, a crumpled wreck of a girl almost convulsing with sobs, or even worse, a drunk emo-guy swearing "@£%@£%% bitch" loud enough so that everyone in a 3 or 4 table radius knows his whole sordid tragic tale.

I've told a number of my female friends this, but I'm going to go on the record to say that I am a pretty good- no, I am THE authoritahhh on bastardy guys; it takes one to know one, and being quite the asshole myself (if I may toot my own horn juuust a little bit), believe me: I would know.

So when you come to me and tell me what I truly, honestly think about the guy in class who's giving you "mixed feelings", or the assistant manager at the cafe you work at with the badly tinted hair who's kind-of-hitting-on-you but is being a creep to you at work...

... and I, in my not-so-infinite wisdom say something along the lines of "He's a total scumbag. Stay away. Listen to me." do you know what you should do?

Listen. Or turn a deaf ear to me, and wince as my words nyaaah kick you right back in the nuts a month or two in the future.

Because I won't go Paula Abdul on you and say something airheaded like "Oh he's niiice. He dresses so nicely!"

And neither will I start gesticulating wildly and proclaiming, "He mah main man! He cool! I'm feelin' this guy, yknowwhatmsayin'?" a la Randy whatshisname.

I will say what counts, because I am your friend and I mean well. And because, being a rather big dumbass myself, I can usually smell unclefucker a mile away.

I'm not saying that I have great foresight, or that I am really well-read or anything - hell, I'm a commerce student - but I know my assholes, allright. I'll say it again: I will say what counts. Even if it might be "mean".

In other words, I am the Simon Cowell of dumbschmuck / skankyhoe judging.

What I'm saying is this: I do make mistakes, I do misjudge people sometimes. However, unlike everyone else who might make the same judgements or misjudgements that I make, but mask them in saying nice, sweet things... unlike them, I'm not that nice a person. So I probably won't go "oh that's nice of him/her..."; I'll tell you what I truly, truly feel.

Because I've been hurt before by my own stupidity and if I see you falling into that same trap, I will try to pull you out - but if you try to bite my hand instead, I will let go.

joel's apology

2006-04-15T12:31:00.000-04:00

It is funny, when someone "refutes" your opinion with bludgeoning, short-sighted dogmatic prattle without truly comprehending what you wrote, thereby missing the point completely by virtue of being blinded by self-righteous desire to... to what, be proven the better man? With facts that claim to refute your opinions but instead stand harmoniously beside them, at that.

It is funnier, and more than a bit ironic, when that person who has attempted to browbeat you into intellectual submission not by wit, but by unprofessional insults, has himself bemoaned the "infringement of Liberty".

Liberty, my friend, is infringed when an attack is made to crush someone else's point of view, no matter how flawed that point of view may be, in the form of slander, censorship, etc.

Check your slate before you pick up stones next time.

. . .

The German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche's flawed yet brilliant first work, The Birth of Tragedy, had its credibility dented shortly after it was published by a contemporary of his, Wilamowitz, who published a lengthy essay critiquing Nietzsche's work, blasting it for its lack of proper footnotes and references, unscientific methods and unacademic style. Wilamowitz's critique was his first book, his own fledgeling attempt to carve his own little niche in the academic world - and this he did, while succeeding in tainting Nietzsche's academic professional credibility.

Today, however, more than a hundred years after his death, the immortal Nietzsche's writings have spawned a cult-like religious following worldwide, among whose number I proudly count myself. As for Wilamowitz, he remains a mere footnote, a forgotten skid mark on Nietzsche's road to greatness.

. . .

I may fall sometimes, I may stumble in the potholes of this path that I walk; but I walk nonetheless.

Those who stone me from the dark comforting confines of their cave, who throw blind stones at things they cannot begin to fathom... they don't.

The cave never seemed cosier, has it?

ginger tea flavoured presentations

2006-04-14T01:39:00.000-04:00

Note to self:

From now on, do NOT drink strong ginger tea half an hour before a 15 minute presentation, unless you want to punctuate your sentences with ginger tea flavoured burps.

damned for all time

2006-04-13T11:10:00.000-04:00

If you've seen or heard Andrew Lloyd Webber's Jesus Christ Superstar, a musical I grew up playing on repeat, the song "Damned For All Time", sung by Judas in the musical suddenly seems somehow... very apt:

"I came because I had to; I'm the one who saw.
Jesus can't control it like he did before.
And furthermore I know that Jesus thinks so too.
Jesus wouldn't mind that I was here with you.
I have no thought at all about my own reward.
I really didn't come here of my own accord.
Just don't say I'm... damned for all time.

...

Why are we the prophets? Why are we the ones
Who see the sad solution - know what must be done?
I have no thought at all about my own reward.
I really didn't come here of my own accord.
Just don't say I'm... damned for all time."

I know these are just song lyrics, but they just seem to hint, subtly, at there beyond something more to Jesus' betrayal, right? I mean, He did predict His betrayal in advance, on more than one occasion... a self-fulfilling prophecy...? I don't know. I need to think about this.

mondays over

2006-04-10T23:56:00.000-04:00

I've had migraine for a week now, the entire of last week, and in this time I did zero exercise, because a few pushups or crunches in and my head would start going in circles and hurting. Yesterday I did a biiit of exercise, and stepped it up a bit more tonight. It sure feels good to be back to normal, even if the remnants of that migraine are still hanging on.

My exams are coming up, I have an essay due in four days which thankfully is mostly done, I have tons of math to catch up on, I'm going through one of those little periods (haha) in my life where I'm just not my usual unbelievably-sure-of-himself optimistic uh, self.

A number of things are seriously getting to me, many of which I can't even place my finger on, even though I did work out one of them just now. Well, kinda. But in working out that problem I realized that maybe I am... damaged goods, a defective work? I know I shouldn't think this way, and I know I won't in the long run.

But the truth is, an attitude that I have had all my life was put under the microscope just now. And I wonder now, this attitude of mine, this particular sense of responsibility I have... has it even been necessary? Have I conditioned myself to be stupid unnecessarily? For what, a skewed sense of nobility? I wonder if I have cried all these years for nothing, especially taking into account the... recent turn of events.

I spent my entire teenage life examining and re-examing my own morality, trying my best to do good. Sin is bad, right? I even obsessively tried not lying for a couple of days, tried to follow the Ten Commandments to the letter. Needless to say, it didn't work, and got me into a hell of a lot of trouble, further compounding my woes.

In Beyond Good & Evil, Nietzsche writes that being ashamed of one's immorality is a step on the staircase at whose end one is ashamed of one's morality. I feel that in the past year and a half I've ascended a few steps up this very staircase... but at what cost? What happens when I reach its end... what will be left? I don't know anymore.

iron tides

2006-04-08T09:59:00.000-04:00

In continuing the tradition of me being PMS-man, here's something I saw on Mad TV a coupla months ago which suddenly seems relevant.

l e a d e r s h i p

2006-04-07T00:03:00.000-04:00

I've barely written anything well thought out in the last couple of weeks, because I've been alternatively bogged down with tests and, a bit more recently, because I've honestly been upset, dealing with deeply personal issues, some newer, some older.

As such, I've been unable to sit down and think coherently enough to... express what I've been wanting to talk (write?) about on this little blog-thing; there's just been too many thoughts to get down, too many quickly-changing moods interrupting those thoughts.

In the past week I'd even regressed to the point where a certain friend remarked that I "reminded (her) of PMS". This is the first time I've been compared to the female monthly hormonal cycle. I take it as a compliment that I enrage and titillate (I love that word) in equal parts... which is more than 99 percent of wussy girly-men out there can claim.

But it's all good now. I'll be honest with you (and me) though, I'm writing this half because there's a huge (aren't they all) essay I have due next Thursday, and having not written anything proper in a fortnight, my... how shall we say, form of expression has gotten rusty.

So, I will stop indulging myself in this manner of self-important prattle for now... and talk about something else: leadership. Or, more specifically, my leadership, and what I think of leadership in general.

I don't think I am a born leader, not in the pure sense. That, however, didn't stop me from being appointed into various leadership positions in my earlier school years: I was class monitor for a couple of years, then class treasurer the first year I went to RI.

What my teachers saw in me then, I'm not sure. But I remember I was loud; the class joker, always fooling around, always unserious. I embraced whatever leadership I was appointed then as... as much a chance to interact as a it was a responsibility to everyone.

When I was fifteen, however, one day in the offseason my basketball coaches pulled me aside and wanted me to be team captain. That, I guess, was when it all changed; when being a "leader" started to mean a lot more than fooling around, getting to know people better.

It took me a long time to get into it, but when I was done with being captain, even though I learnt and gained a hell of a lot of things, the sheer pride of being the leader of 15 extremely motivated RI boys and helping to push us deeper into the nationals than anyone in the country thought we would have gone...

I still don't think I walked out of RI a true-blue "leader", the guy who can say, "Shut the hell up everyone... and (pregnant, dramatic pause) follow moi." I might have walked out of a good year-and-a-half at the helm of the team a lot quieter, a lot more solemn, but I never was (and perhaps never will be) someone who can be that monolithic untouchably cool rock of leadership.

What I was, as team captain in RI, was... the guy who f*cked you guys to the ground, and made sure that he did twice as much punishment as you did. On physical training drills, I broke the team into two groups, to do suicide drills and pushups, and I ran and knocked it down with each of them in turn. No one questions you once they see you do that, after a while.

I realized that you didn't have to be able to say the god-damned right things at the right time in front of members of authority (teachers-in-charge, etc.) to lead effectively (or at least to lead my way).

You have to show that you are one of the dudes, that you are willing to be the (cliche alert) first man on the court in training, and the last man shooting free throws by himself when the sun has set and it's too dark to see the rim, with everyone else in the training shed fooling around or downing huge cups of icy grass jelly drinks.

A few years later, I enlisted in the army, and I was passed on to be picked as an officer - twice. Most people had only one chance, but I managed to stand out (again, not by my own doing, but by circumstance) twice, only to be dismissed as being "too quiet", twice, in the words of my platoon commanders themselves.

I ended up being a specialist, a sargeant, an infantry leader, a junior commander. It's more than a few rungs below "officer", but most importantly, it also meant $300 less in the bank every 10th of the month. Many people come to terms with their failure to be chosen for Officer training in negative ways, either rationalizing their failure with silly excuses, such as "I got hurt when it mattered", or "I got backstabbed by that @#%@". Or "my platoon commander is so biased!". The list goes on.

On hindsight, I think I came to terms with it early on: I don't think I'm cut out to be an Officer, anyway.

Yeah, I'll say it again, I'm not Officer material, period.

I'm waay too emotional, too in-your-face, to ground level to be one. I will bleed for my men when they do. F*ck, I will bleed for my men so they don't have to; and I sure as hell will not let them slog it out leopard-crawling in the mud an entire afternoon while my subordinates play "bad cop" and then show up in my cleanly pressed, nice-smelling uniform and give them a surprise night out in town, or a longer weekend.

I get too caught up in my men's problems sometimes, too emotionally attached, to be able to see the macro-situation, the bigger picture. I played basketball with my subordinates, my men every day. I was the one senior in RI who hung out with the basketball juniors whenever training ended, when the others stuck to themselves / their girlfriends, subconsciously drawing a line between the bigger dogs and the little guys in the team.

As a result, I feel too much for whoever I'm placed in charge of. And I know that's probably the biggest knock on my character, on my ability. That's why I'm not - and perhaps will never be - a true-blue, carry-a-team-on-his-back leader.

Does that matter? Or more importantly, does it make me a weaker person? Hell no. I am who I am. And I am in love... with myself.

Why am I talking about all of this all of a sudden? Dumb reason, but legit nonetheless. I just saw the premiere episode of The Ultimate Fighter, Season Three, and one of the coaches, Tito Ortiz, is my new role model.

(For the uninformed, The Ultimate Fighter is a reality tv show which follows two teams of mixed martial artists as they duke it out in weekly episodes to see who will win a big lucrative contract with the Ultimate Fighting Championship. Googlevideo or Youtube it, see one match and you will never ever watch a WWE match again.)

Tito is my new role model, I'll say it again. He is the ultimate dude's leader, my new inspiration. He's cocky, hot headed and antagonistic. But to his team, he is everything a trainee can ask for; the coach who will put in more effort, sweat and bleed more than the entire team put together.

He made training so horrible, so tough, so ego-crushingly arduous (hence the "Punishment" moniker), that his trainees would find an actual fight easy. Which is exactly the way my basketball coaches in RI taught us. In Tito's own words, "you prepare for the worst, and the best will happen."

He also isn't afraid to show how vulnerable he is to his team. When one of his trainees was crying and being emotional before his first fight, Tito went up to him and told him that emotions were "part of being a fighter", that showing your weakness and crying in front of people doesn't make you a loser.

It takes guts to do that, to be able to talk smack to your vilest enemy (you hear that Ken Shamrock? you goin' down!!!) and to be able to bring yourself to the weakest member of your team and expose your own "weakness" to him.

Go Team Punishment!!!

. . .

2006-04-04T01:51:00.000-04:00

I've had an emotional... weekend. And an emotional monday afternoon. I am really spent. Even if I'm totally fine. I feel so knotted and wrung with... emotion.

I just did half an IQ test, fell asleep in front of my computer, woke up to finish it it and got a measly 117. The hell. Apparently sleeping for 4 hours over the last 48 has an effect on cognitive function. Am going stupid.

Exams're coming up but I'm not that fazed. More worries about essay due in week and half. Massive readings. Just need to be consistent now, do math and psych every bloody day for an hour or so each till reading week begins so can finish syllabus by then and start studying proper.

So I'm emotional and... have a slipping IQ now. In addition to being physically semi lame. Hah.

Sigh I don't know, I think I just need to go sleep. Which I'm... going to do now. Good night, world.

phantasmagoria

2006-04-01T20:09:00.000-05:00

peering briefly into yesterday's dark tunnel

Alas, today hasn't been a terribly productive one at all, and I think it just started out wrong, too. I just remembered that I did have this strangely vivid dream, a dream which I actually shut out of my consciousness all day till recently when I was thinking over dinner on my chair here...

I dreamt that I was here, in the present, and I got a phone call from a long lost friend's mother. I'm not clear anymore about the contents of what she told me, but apparently my friend was in some sort of... trouble, and wanted to reach out to me asap.

And then my friend got on the phone, I called spoke but the reception suddenly went all fuzzy, I wasn't being heard on the other end even though I heard a voice, but I just kept calling out, again and again... and then I jolted awake with this unplaceable foreboding feeling, one that I've ignored all day until now.

I've kind of lost contact with that friend... with time. Honestly, I'm not sure if I still care, in any case. Is this an omen? Or just my id wreaking havoc in my sleep?

I'm unsure whether I should get back into contact, or even make a phone call to check on things.

No, wait. I am sure. I'm not going to. I have better things to do with my time, to hell with all that.

The past is... exactly that. Even if phantasmagorical friends' mothers think otherwise.

yawn yawn yawn

2006-04-01T02:14:00.000-05:00

Over the past two or three days, I've written a number of half-posts, stuff I nearly posted but couldn't, because I drafted them and then ran outta fuel, so instead of posting up something half-effed, I decided not to.

I've been busy. Cramming and studying for a killer financial accounting test that thankfully was a lot less killer than I expected it to be. It was 110 minute test, and I was done with 40 minutes to spare, so I rechecked my paper pretty thoroughly. I hope I didn't make too many careless mistakes, or worse yet, cocky oversights, for that matter.

With that done, I have an essay and four finals to study for in the next month, so I sadly will have my hands full with work. Plus am skipping all/most math classes now since they are pointless and the teacher inept, glaringly inept espececially since the rest of my classes have excellent professors.

It's funny, first year of university is nearly over. Went by hella fast... I would sit down and reminisce and ponder and do all manner of quaint things like that, but I'm a bit tired and have helluva lot to cover and catch up on, so it'll have to wait till summer I guess.

I know I haven't said much here too. Too spent and thought-less to write anyting worth... reading, too. V for Vendetta was a good movie.

Maybe by tomorrow I will have more stuff to talk about. For now though, the bed.

time to earn my keep

2006-03-26T10:25:00.000-05:00

not quite putting on my "game face", but...

yes, its finally exam time. exams're in a month, and there's so much to do. big essay. and mgt test this thursday ugh.

sigh wont have much time for many other things. wont have tt much time even to gym leisurely, might just go to let off steam. wont have even time for cardio. sob sob.

last night was gonna work out at home but was too tired from sitting in front of mgt books all day. am even too tired/lazy right now to move finger to shift key for uppercase letters and punctuation.

woe is meee.

haha. whee accounting beckons!

joelo-hari windows

2006-03-21T01:53:00.000-05:00

Now, I've tried to resist doing this for a while, precisely since everyone has been making me do theirs. Yes, you know who you are. So, just for the heck of it, I caved. Especially since I had a class on personality types and traits at PSY100 last week.

What am I talking about? The Johari Window.

I found it really, really hard to pick these traits myself. I don't know why; usually I have a lot of good things to say about myself.

Hmmm... wonder how other people see me. I know I look in the mirror everyday and see a monkey staring back. Ook-eek-eek.

So, for the heck of it... here goes.

mister joel's johari window

overslept!

2006-03-20T14:37:00.000-05:00

I overslept this morning. This is not good because it never ever happens to me; I usually set my alarm super early, especially on Monday mornings since I have to book my physiotherapy sessions at the athletic centre by phone and if I don't call early I get crappy timings.

The last time I overslept was hmm about a year back in camp when I didn't set my alarm, and the "usual dudes" who set their alarms in the bunk didn't or were clearing leave (in ORD mode), causing an entire bunk of sargeants to oversleep.

An angry Encik's (the sargeant-major) voice and the sight of his bulgingly massive inked-out biceps are NOT things a poor NS boy would ever want to wake up to.

Not cool.

(...if you can see my Encik he's in the picture in the last post, the hulking Indian dude with the Ronaldo hair!)

Anyway, in guilt of oversleeping, have had a productive morning, reading up and learning what I would've learnt in Indart's lecture.

So there! Not that skipping class is good. It's bad. Especially Indart's class which is pretty educational I think. But have decided to skip remaining math lectures since math is a waste of time.

That turd of a prof takes half an hour to explain what anyone who went to high school / did A lvls can grasp in five minutes, which means I spent the entire class SMS-ing and doodling away. Or sleeping. Or studying for other classes' homework. The only reason why anyone in his class is doing even decently well is because they are forced to work that much extra because of his ineptitude and indifference.

Bah.

So yes see no more getting mad at math prof ever again since am not going for any more math classes! Not that I'm doing badly in it. Amen.

remember

2006-03-18T02:11:00.000-05:00

In the last three or so days, my conversations with my old NS buddies have gone something like this...

ME: "Hey what up man?"
NS FRIEND #1: "oei faggot knn f*ck off! i got no time to tok 2 u now!"

and

ME: "Hmm I suppose you're not talking to me too...?"
NS FRIEND #2: "Diam lah! F*ck you @#%@#%% no mood to tok now!"

or even better yet...

NS FRIEND #3: "hey joel you lucky ass!"
ME: "Huh? Lucky??"
NS FRIEND #3: "shaddup lah knn i dun haf time to tok 2 faggots like you bye!"

Ahem. So, dear BRC buddies out there, half a globe away. Some time back a certain self-proclamined genius amongst us expounded on the profound differences between being "Colleagues" and "Friends".

O NS buddies of mine - we may not be "Colleagues" anymore, and thanks to my knee injury, we may not be colleagues again; we may never get the chance to stand shoulder to shoulder and take up arms against the war on terror like we did ever again.

But we are still... "Friends", are we not?

Remember who dragged that big black wooden block across the swimming pool. Helped to drag the tire. And ran around the camp with it. Remember, guys.

I know you guys got delegated a helluva shitty job. If not for me being here in Canada I would be back there with ya'll. But I'm not. Even then, I f e e l your pain.

Anyway, I hope ya'll have fun, and I mean this in the least sarcastic way possible: Take It In The Right Spirit, guys.

basketball omens

2006-03-16T09:38:00.000-05:00

okay, i woke up an hour before i usually do because i slept hella early since my vision was strangely drifting out of focus again.

while i was in the shower i rememberd having a basketball-dream, that i was in my peja stojakovic sacto kings jersey at a basketball court shooting jumpers and there were two kids feeding me the ball.

and i never missed a jumper, even when i was way out at the three point line and i knew i wasn't strong enough in my current state to hit a shot like that, i just threw 'em up and they went in.

perhaps these are good omens, heh heh. haven't had such a pleasant dream in a while. the only dream that could POSSIBLY be better than this is to... dream i stole the ball from karl malone, dribbled the clock down at the top of the key, then give bryon russell a little nudge while pulling back on a half-crossover and then shooting The Shot to win the nba championship!!!

haha now im getting ahead of myself. gonna go shoot around tomorrow, i think. may not have my serangoon gardens kiddies to feed me the ball (what up, yo) but hopefully will have a christmas elf to do it haha.

blurry, blurry eyes II

2006-03-15T23:30:00.000-05:00

Glasses notwithstanding, my eyes are getting blur a lot nowadays.

It happens over weekends after I monster-study or on weekdays when I do lots of math papers or eco problem sets, or even when I'm leisurely hopping from ledge to precarious ledge throwing flasks of holy water and flesh-rending boomerang crosses at an endless army of zombies.

I don't even play that much computer games this term, I'm in school a lot more thanks to a different timetable which doesn't let me come home till the sun sets practically 5 days a week. Last term spent a lot more time at home, in front of the computer or doing work at home.

I don't know what's wrong, too. According to a number of spectacle-wearing kids I need time to get used to specs and in this transition period my eyes will be blurry when I wear them. I'm practically typing now with my eyes shut, not that I'm err showing off, but because I can and because my bloody eyes are making me giddy and I can't sleep too till I get some of these rampant thoughts out of my head.

My mind's been a blank the last coupla days; I'm not entirely sure why, too. Perhaps because I've been not thinking about stuff, perhaps because when I do think about something, because of the work and the lazing around this weekend, I didn't really put much thought to it. Perhaps because ever since I went to stay those coupla days on residence, after that heavy math test and all the past eight-odd years of practice papers I did building up to it, there's this hmm vacuum of... of something I can't really put a finger on now.

Maybe because this is the last testless week I'm gonna have before the next fortnight's tests, and then the road to the finals begins proper. Not many weeks left; gotta buck up and make a final push.

I just wish my head didn't spin like this, wish my eyes weren't blur like this. It's not the vision anymore, I think, since I'm wearing my corrective glasses. It's probably lack of sleep or some other strange reason why I'm dizzy and everything is blurry (everyone's so fake).

There's just so much half-formed thoughts squirming around my head right now, I want to get them down but I'm too tired to cohesively think them through, and my eyes are killing me.

I don't think I've put a post here with me hmm talking casually like this for a while, so there you ahve it. I'm going to sleep now, and I doubt I'll go gymming tomorrow, given time constraints, extra tutorial and hmmm possible hair cut.

Am looking fobby which... isn't good at all.

A letter from Mr. Joel to... Emo-Jojo

2006-03-15T01:24:00.000-05:00

Dear Emo-Jojo,

Why hello, o gentle sibling of mine.

It's been a while, hasn't it? Yes, it has - and I hope you haven't forgotten about poor little old me.

It is I, Mister Joel, the darkly brooding, forever scowling, punch-the-walls-till-fists-are-bleedin furnace of angst who is the other half of your being. And as you know, I've taken a backseat of sorts over the past month or so, letting you hog the limelight all this time... what with you being genuinely happy for what seems like the first time in longer than we can remember.

It breaks my charred, sulphur-reeking heart to say this, but I knew I had to reel you in sooner or later, you soppy wussy pansy-man.

*slap*

Your good friend and probable future roomie f was right - you've gone all soft on us! Geez, what happened to your chutzpah, your pizzazz, your oomph, your mojo? Your sei?

*smack*

Tsk tsk. Yes, I know you're in a really wonderful relationship with Dream Babe right now, yada yada, I know you're really, honestly, sincerely happy, yada yada. At the same time, I have to warn you NOT to regress into the girly mopey ass-kissing faggsy man you were in secondary school.

It's not like I'm not enjoying this little break I'm having. It's good to see you happy for a change, good to not have to put my own little vitriolic stamp on everything that we do. Hell, I can even get used to this... taking a backseat thing.

But not if you don't get your act together, you god-damned queer! Barely three months ago, we wrote this, don't you remember? Read it - and reread it until you realize the folly of your ways; repent and see the light before it is too late, dumbass.

*UFC elbow to face*

This is your last warning, Emo-Jojo. Or big brother over here is taking over the wheel again, and it ain't gonna be pretty if he does. Ya hear?

Unlovably yours,
Mister Joel

mr joel's excellent adventure in rez

2006-03-11T22:14:00.000-05:00

Well, if this place has been pretty quiet for the past week, it's because I was going nuts studying for a math test, and that I actually found myself a benefactress, who very kindly provided me with a place on the floor to lay my groundsheet, err, sleeping bag for two nights, in spite of the weird serial-killer stares from her creepy orangesportsjacket-clad stalker neighbour, which meant me sleeping in the University College residence in school since Wednesday night.

I actually did get back home late last night, but have been immensely tired, ever since Wednesday when I sat in the Earth Sciences library for four hours straight without even getting off my seat going postal on seven years' worth of past year papers' hardest questions.

As an army boy I can sleep very, very soundly on any surface, as long as it is devoid of insects. Prone in a shellscrape (read: coffin-sized hole in ground) resting my head on my M16 with its magazine firmly stuck in the soft mushy mud. Wrapped in my hammock like a big green har-gaw suspended between two trees, hugging my rifle, every bit of exposed skin covered in camo scarf / hammock flap in a bundle of complete insect-proof zen-ness. Slumped over the guardroom table in restlessly light half-sleep. Sprawled out on my back at the carpark at the ferry terminal (which was one of the BEST SLEEPS EVER... remember guys?) too many hours before the first rays of sun would begin even light up the sky.

My indulgent reminiscing will stop, and my point is this: a sleeping bag on a concrete floor is HEAVEN to me. In fact I had a great, great sleep on Thursday night. Wednesday night's sleep woulda been great too if not for being rudely awakened by LGBT (lesbians gays bi tranny) dumbschmucks in their "room" not far away...

Yes, there is a LGBT room in school, a little room which I have never been inside. In my imagination its probably like a Scout's den, only a lot more gay. Literally.

Now, most guys *are* pretty homophobic. I have err a theory based on economic theory which I believe in which explains why being homophobic is horrifically detrimental to the male species, a theory which I will probably expound on a later date... but it should suffice to say that I am relatively cool with uh "different" people... as long as they don't start poking their shovels in MY backyard.

(snicker away, mr chin)

But when these people, who have nothing better to do, crowd in their little LGBT room at eight in the morning and argue at the god-damned top of their voices in affected accents with mock seriousness, loud enough so that sleeping kids (like me) are woken up from their silly inane fruity argument... they are crossing a line.

Were I living on rez, and not a guest, I would've grabbed my keys, stormed over to their little LGBT room in my peejays and shortshorts, and gotten busy with some serious gaybashing.

Bah stupid pretentious bitchy girly-men!

The rest of my stay on campus was pretty cool, thanks to my vvv. nice hostess, the modern day domestic goddess (of mercy) herself. Spent Wednesday night hopping from room to room checking out haha friends' rooms. Rested for much of Thursday from aftermath of going into overdrive for MAT133 test, then skipped waste-of-time math class on Friday to hit the gym and realize that am lighter than have ever been since post-surgery! Very, very cool.

Also checked out Elm Place apartment - in surprise visit to a certain Auntie haha - which actually is pretty good a place to rent, if I move out next year. Shall see aboot that and cross that bridge when I come to it...

Finally, had a lot of fun on Friday and was strangely enough very, very moved by something that... I saw.

"Stranded student, 20, Seeks lodging 8-9 MAR. Will do chores, clean room, edit essays, etc. No kidding."

2006-03-04T00:55:00.000-05:00

"What a cuuute little boy! Won't you take Mr. Joel in?"

Due to unforeseen circumstances *cough cough*, the enigmatic Mr. Joel now finds himself stranded in Missisauga without transport to/from school from Wednesday (the 8th) evening through Friday (the 9th).

...

Mr. Joel's first alternative is to take crappy public transport 20+km to school, which, including waiting time, makes for an estimated 3-hour round trip. Not the nicest prospect, considering have average of a bit more than 2 hours of lessons per day over Thurs-Fri.

Moreover, prospect of having to drag self home after soul-blighting MAT133 test on Wednesday night, then wake up at ungodly hour to hop on bus/GO train(??) for early PSY-1oo class the next day... really isn't Mr. Joel's idea of fun.

...

Thus, this leaves Mr. Joel with the his only other alternative: finding a place to sleep in town for Wednesday & Thursday night.

Mr. Joel doesn't ask for much, just 1.73m X 0.50m of real estate on the floor of room or God forbid, if need be, in the closet (as long as Tom Cruise & R Kelly aren't in there). Wednesday and/or Thursday night. That's all. No kidding.

In return he will clean your room to the best of his abilities as the muchly-celebrated grizzled area cleaning veteran, 3SG ONG WEI CHEN JOEL, to "area cleaning standards", and as a guarantee for quality, puts ten pushups on the table for every swipe of "magic dust" you can find in the room.

Mr. Joel also has two years' experience at handling laundry - except *gasp*, delicates - and he will happily do yours while you sit in your room without a care, MSN-ing, chilling to music and studying away.

Mr. Joel is also huggable.

Mr. Joel is also pretty good at the esoteric art known as Indart's Curves and with his ample professional writing experience - his work has been published in Club Pets Magazine and Bliss Bridal Magazine, as well as numerous hospitality flyers all over Singapore - he edits a mean essay. So as his host/hostess, please feel free to tap on his bitchlo... er multitude of 1337 pwn4g3 5killzorz, free of charge at your disposal only!

If, however, you are not in the mood for studying, Mr. Joel can keep you entertained into the wee small hours of the night with his endless repertoire of witty anecdotes, or engage you in pseudo-Socratic debate with his surprisingly-deep-coming-from-such-a-massive-dumbass views on society.

...

All in all, to sum it up, Mr. Joel stresses on only on thing: added value for *YOU*-

For just 1.73m X 0.50m of real estate for 6-7 hours on Wednesday & Thursday night, you get all of this:

Immaculately cleaned room to "area cleaning standards", with 10 pushup/eff-up guarantee
Free laundry service
Engaging, entertaining & huggable person
1337 pwn4g3 5killzorz that will r0x0rz j00... ( ^ o ^ )

Need we say more? Why wait - call 647-869 1908 (or email/msn me) TODAY and be prepared for the one and only Mr. Joel Experience!!!

On Oratory

2006-03-02T21:51:00.000-05:00

I sit here tonight, having done what I think was the best uh class presentation I ever have done in my entire life. Ever. I was concise, entertaining, didn't stumble over my words, and coherently flowed from point to point.

I even managed to speak in Mandarin, take a little dig at a certain modern day authoritarian regime *ahem*, indirectly hint about having a "hot girlfriend" (*winks*) while illustrating a Nietzschean argument and, best of all, I made a Dick Cheney joke which got a heavy-eyed class of college kids looking forward to the weekend (ie. Thursday night, yo) and my classics professor outright laughing out loud for... quite a while.

Now, I hope I don't come off as being cocky or conceited or anything. I'm just really, really relieved. My friend - and future shrink Jing - actually told me an hour ago that the way to distinguish between "an extrovert" and "an introvert pretending to be an extrovert" is to "measure how relieved that person is after he/she does a presentation".

I am REALLY relieved. But at the same time I don't think I'm that much of an introvert, or I wouldn't have been writing in here for the last year, right? Then again, people who know me, who really know me... know that I'm a very private person when it comes to uh, certain things. Haha.

Well, my point is, I'm really relieved because this is only the second time I'm doing a solo presentation on Canadian soil. The first time was more than three years ago in Grade 12 English class, and, struggling with a new studying environment (public high school is soo much different from secondary school in Singapore), I froze.

Even though the kids in my class were really, really nice and I was cool with all of them... and I had the nicest man for a teacher who looked like a big burly teddy bear, complete with fuzzy beard. I just froze there for more than five minutes staring at the class, staring at the floor and at the sheet of presentation outline shaking in my hands. When I finally got speaking I actually gave a pretty good presentation content-wise, but after that horrible nervous experience I was so shaken... it really messed me up.

It's gotta be... seven years ago since I first had to speak publicly. Back in RI when I was in sec one, at the end of the year every class had a representative to speak in front of the entire level - all 400 really really smart (and sometimes mean) kids in the level - and my class representative (I forgot who it was... Gaurav? Cexiang?? I probably got back at him in the years to come by hard-tackling him in rugby or something) CHICKENED OUT at the last minute, leaving me with the job and 5 minutes to prepare what to say to an entire auditorium of snickering, bored brainy kids.

Needless to say, I totally messed up; my hands shook so much I had to thrust them behind my back and uh yeah. It was bad.

But, I think, after 2 years of NS spent having to address large groups of people, be it giving orders to a platoon of men, an office full of occifers, or haha complaining to Warrant Officers at After-Action-Reviews... I think I've gained the uh, ability to talk in public. Or rather, I've lost that horrible fear I had of speaking in public.

So there. One more step to being an orator! Thank you NS.

ph34r mY 1337-ness j00 h4x0rz... i r0x0rz j00 411...

2006-02-27T20:06:00.000-05:00

Dear Joeloholics,

It has come to my attention that certain *cough cough* individuals, who will remain unnamed by moi, have come to the conclusion that Mr. Joel has become soft and "mushy" as of late.

These *ahem* individuals have pointed to a number of instances to back their misguided opinions. For one, they feel that my posts here over the last two or so weeks have been "mushy", "soo sweeet" and, in one particular case, "gag-inducing".

Others - a certain dood who holds the title of Singapore's Brainiest NSman in particular - have taken beef with some of my... recent MSN display pics. Some have even expressed their misgivings at my MSN nicknames, saying that my display nicks (eg. "j o e l") in recent times have been suspiciously plain, lacking the usual buaypaiseiness (read: signature oomph) that is expected of Mr. Joel, such as "His Joeliness", "Joelius Caesar", "joel joel joel joel", "J O E L O H O L I C S . A N O N Y M O U S", "(so) j o e l i n h o (so)" etc.

Therefore, lest all you Joeloholics and Joelophobes forget... here's a little reminder of the awesome physical specimen that is Mr Joel; a quick sneak peek at the fearsome Sultan of Garang himself at the uncanny peak of his mind-blowing physical prowess - the very picture of testicular fortitude.

Muahahahaha. Arrr... quiver in my wake, 'ye mangy land-lubberin' mongrels! You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! Behold the awesomeness before you that is Mr. Joel himself!! ph34r me, j00 h4x0rz!!!!

PS. For best results, kindly - I say again, kindly - ignore ridiculously high pitched voices; weird result of converting file formats.

I hope we have reached a better understanding after this uh, presentation.

Amen to that.

Fashionably yours,
Mr. Joel

reading week? what reading week?

2006-02-26T01:54:00.000-05:00

I've made my share of mistakes in the last twenty years.

A lot of them, actually. Over the past two or so years alone, I probably made more huge mistakes than I had in the eighteen years before, collectively, including what Gabriel calls "the biggest mistake of my life".

I've said things to people I... never meant to say. I've made a number of "bad investments" at frightening opportunity cost, and its only a testament to how good my friends are that they stuck with me so long. I've knowingly gotten myself into a number of painful social situations, just for the heck of it... and paid the price.

Finally, however, for once, over the last three weeks, I think I'm doing something that... just feels right. Time will, of course, tell... and I hope that in time I look back on this post with a smile instead of tears - but haha let's not think so far, shall we, Joel?

For the moment, things feel right. Perfect. Like they've not been... ever. And I can't help but smile at the thought.

...

All right, all right... reading week is nearly over, and I've not been as productive as I thought I'd be, but it wasn't a COMPLETE waste. I've at least done more than the minimum I set out to do, (presentation prep + bitchloads! of maths) so there isn't a schoolwork/readings deficit at least when I step into class on Monday.

On Friday night had Ethiopian food which consisted of "injera" (an-jera) - which to me resembled a cold plain thosai - and "tibs" which is this very flavourful beef uh, dish. Ahh... my masala thosai... I want masala thosai...

Also, went up to Panorama - this snazzy bar on the 51st storey of a building here - which overlooks the entire city. You know a place is going to be "straight gangsta" when the ground floor entrance is a tiny corridor with a lone elevator which only has two buttons - "ground" and "51"...

Place had an amazing view, truly. Great jazzy music, ambience... Joel had very good beer and, before I forget, exceptionally charming company. Would be even more awesome if sky wasn't full of snow-laden clouds (which would later unleash their icy contents on me while I was driving home, causing me to skid more than once, my imaginary Jay Chou-esque drifting prowess notwithstanding) blocking out the stars and obscuring the horizon.

...

One more day of reading week till school starts - I'm gonna make good use of it, then kick back at night and get some heavy duty nua-ing (rest) done before the final few months of freshman year.

glasses / korean cake

2006-02-23T18:09:00.000-05:00

I was way too tired on Tuesday night to follow up on that last post, which I had intended to do after working out while watching Jon Stewart. Fell asleep 5 minutes into Jon Stewart and got up an hour later too groggy to work out / write anything, so that's that.

Caught Munich on Tuesday at Varsity VIP cinema, which apparently is called "VIP" for a reason: each theatre can probably sit barely 20 people... and the seats are nice and cushy and have side tables - at a price, of course.

Oh well - it was worth it, anyway - and Munich was a good movie; a movie which got me thinking about some bastardy things I've done over the past year or two - some for survival, and some just for the heck of it (haha) - and how karma seems to inevitably catch up with you, in one way or another...

Haha. And on Tuesday, in other uh, semi-related Joel-news, during attempt to eat slice of wonderfully light & creamy, harmless-looking Korean peach-cake, was shocked to realize that Korean cake had mind of its own and got bitten back by Korean cake.

Argh. I'm getting dizzy from a day spent doing really droll graphical analysis and throwing spinning crosses at zombies, skeletons and other forms of the undead (playing Castlevania), plus waking up really late cuz I slept really late cuz I was working out past midnight.

So yes. My head is spinning... its barely evening and the sun is setting on a cloudy, snowy/rainy dull Thursday. Still have to get quite a lot of work done if want to go out tomorrow and not be feeling guilty, so... I'm gonna rest a bit and then get to it.

PS. Check out new glasses! I picked the least weird pair, but upon further reflection - and some preening in the bathroom - realized that I do look kinda nerdy. Have gotten mixed reviews so far from various people. Hopefully do not look too nerdy for own good.

just got home

2006-02-21T21:51:00.000-05:00

just got home and realized that tomorrow will go and collect spectacles from optician. pictures, tomorrow.

hopefully, do not look like too much of a nerd with glasses. possibly even, will exude nerdy charm like specky guy in love hina anime with five (!!!) kawaii female teenybopper housemates madly in love (if you can call it that) with him.

more later. which should be sooner than think.

once more, back to myself

2006-02-20T22:06:00.000-05:00

First of all, to everyone who expressed concern over the last day or two, to everyone who read that last post and went "omg joel are you okay?", or even "har har joel who broke your heart arr?" to me over MSN today and yesterday, I wholly appreciate your concern.

Thanks, peoples.

And to the person who stuck with me through all that distasteful unpleasantness and prodded me on despite legendary Taurus + Year of Ox obstinacy: huge, huge thanks. Am v. moved. 99999999 Joelpoints worth of Karma accumulated!

The truth of the matter is... on that long, winding paved road that is life, bad things are always gonna happen, and you gotta deal with them no matter how down you feel. I've dealt with my problem; I've taken a few steps forward - but not without first jettisoning a number of things I once held dear.

So yes, I am, for what it's worth, back on track.

ruins

2006-02-19T16:02:00.000-05:00

I'm hurt

I'm really, really hurt deep

As a person, as a man, as a human being, there are times when you deal with situations, with problems... by setting them aside temporarily and by standing your ground, by becoming stronger than you were before, hardening your shell and your resolve in the process.

There are also times where you just can't shove the pain and the emotions aside, if even for a moment.

Now is such a time for me.

And while the coldly logical, level-headed half of me knows exactly what I have to do to... get on with life and the people I have to deal with in my life,

the other half of me, this weak, emotional half, grieves at the loss of something sacred and holy; cries out and tears madly away at his hair at the pain; endlessly drives its ruined, bloody fists at the shattered, ruined mirror which is all that is left of a forgotten innocence, again and again, not feeling the shards of gory glass burying themselves deeper in his flesh with every raw, numbing blow.

There are some things you can forgive and forget... live and let live. let go

and then there are some things which, when someone that close to you turns against you and says things that should never be said to someone else... you can forgive and you can try to bury it away but you can't forget because when your very own blood treats you in that way, whatever the intent, the scars run so deep and you know from the moment you are cut that it will take more than a lifetime to heal, that it will hurt for a very long time indeed, and maybe the only way for it to stop hurting is to stop feeling altogether but is that what you really want is it really

. . .

There is a place of solace, a place that is not really a place... where I would like, more than anything, to run to right now.

But I am afraid I will poison its waters with the taint of my being; and so I turn my back and run away to the only place left to run to, to the only citadel where even in its decaying, waterlogged, worm-eaten state of ruin I know I can seek refuge. I run deeper and darker within myself.

Oh fuck it. Damn it all to hell.

plans, plans...

2006-02-18T09:09:00.000-05:00

Aha. A week's holiday from tests and school and everything, which is good and bad at the same time, I guess.

I think right off the bat I'm gonna have to plan how I'll spend this week (no thanks to Jing who, as I write this, just asked me what my reading week plans were, leaving me answer-less),or I'll be dead bored of bumming around by midweek, and horribly stacked with rushing readings and that big paper on Sunday night. So here goes.

In the next week, Joel will consistently:

Study for math (mat133) test which is in a fortnight; catch up with readings and notes for rest of subjects.
Go nuts reading my Nietzsche everyday in preparation for my term paper and presentation next (next) Thursday; hopefully by Sunday will not be drunkenly dancing around butt-nekkid in my room thinking I am Dionysus
Get my glasses made, goddammit, half a term of not being able to read subway signs properly...
Kill lots of monsters, gains bitchloads of experience, gain tons of levels, and loot lots of items!
Settle stupid draggy PR card application so can leave country to, armed only with a silenced socom pistol and army knife, infiltrate heavily guarded terrorist installations, fight with katana-wielding robot ninjas, sneak around in cardboard boxes, and blow up huge mechwarrior-looking weapons of mass destruction, all in the name of world peace and looking cool!!!
Settle other miscellaneous "admin" stuff.
Work out loads everyday though prob won't be doing much cardio but what the heck. Have to be at tip-top form mind, body and soul when term starts. One with nature. One with the slushy snow. One with the freezing rain and the slippery deathtrap that is Queen's Park? Gah nevermind.
Get out and have some fun. Not before putting in the work though. Yee-uh.
Finish reading my Motorcycle Diaries which stopped reading midway through term thanks to @#%& Nietzsche and PSY test
Catch up on sleep. Lots of it.

I'll add onto the list if I think of something else... Otherwise, I think if I can try and hang with these, I should be in pretty good shape when school starts.

Now, though, the holz have just begun and I'm itching to start kicking some zombie ass.

... quite a bit better now, though

2006-02-16T22:06:00.000-05:00

I've been pretty down the last two days or so, if you could tell. Yesterday in particular, though. After my econs class I sat down in the Earth Sciences library - which is really well lit, quiet and surprisingly conducive for studying - and muscled my way through three straight MGT120H past year papers in four hours.

Which, while very beneficial to my cause - I woulda failed the test if not for those papers - really, really taxed me. I did a total of four mock papers and one real one in a day... and was so happy when my balance sheet was, well, balanced, so even if I messed up something, the final answer woulda looked good and confident.

Since then though, have been in a really spent state. Woke up today so tired, spent last night rushing a short essay due today, driving was bad this morning (nothing compared to the horrible freezing rain storm that's wracking the region right and causing crazy blackouts / floods / accidents etc. now however).

Had pretty decent workout today (considering fatigue level) to let off angst and restlessness - and realized that have lost a biiit more weight, despite relatively unhealthy diet of coffee and chocolate over past week or so - which woulda easily have been the highlight of my day.

Except that something - or rather, someone else - happened. Someone... made me laugh really hard just now.

Now, I've forgotten who it was who said this about me a coupla weeks back, but a friend of mine told me that I never laugh, that I don't ever laugh as much as... snicker. Scoff. Or chuckle cynically. An observation I can't really disagree with, sadly.

But yes, today someone made me laugh - uncontrollably, genuinely, without being afraid of looking like an idiot - and brightened up an otherwise cold, miserable Thursday, more so than words can describe.

Sigh... I'm too tired to talk about anything else substantial.

Till next time, then, Joeloholics.

not good.

2006-02-15T08:28:00.000-05:00

Found myself up at six this morning, staring blankly at the alarm clock, watching its hands slowly turn, my mood bleak and raw from the stark, stark nightmare that had tore me from my sleep. Made strong mental note to self to write down what happened in nightmare since it was bothering me more than it should.

Two hours, an eternity of vacillating between half-sleep and more staring at the alarm clock, a quick shower, a bowl of leftover yam rice and a cup of strong tea later, I sit here trying to remember the contents of the dream.

I can't anymore.

I know, vaguely, that it seemed very real, and that it concerned a number of people close to me in real life. And that something bad happened, bad enough to wake me up and put me in this mood.

I just can't remember the who or the what of it anymore, and... and it pisses me off.

Sigh.

finally... a break, if short

2006-02-11T10:54:00.000-05:00

"an apple? where's my cann-dee you son of a beeetch?"

Phew. Weekend's here again. First time in a fortnight I can take even a semblance of a breather, now that PSY100 and ECO100 are outta the way, got one more MGT120 test and a short essay and I'll be done 'til after reading week.

Woke up this morning clutching my handphone with a half-typed message and, for what seems like the first time in years, a smile on my face...(or maybe a goofy MSN smiley) instead of tossing and turning under my blankets in a vain attempt to hide from the sun's rays in a seething mess of hokkien unspeakables.

Aaand... Mister Joel apparently does NOT suck at dancing, which is a tremendous, tremendous weight off his chest. In a single month's lessons, I have: zero ladies' feet stepped on, many an encouraging look from v. nice dance instructor and, most absurdly ego-inflating of all, have been complimented for having "inviting hands".

Ha. Haha. Who woulda thought. Maybe this means that in near (or perhaps, not-so-near future) will step onto the dance floor of the much-hated Zouk (overrated Singapore dance club), the Bastion of Bengness itself, and murdahhh the Ah Bengs on the dance floor, leaving their Ah Lian girlfriends in Joeloholic seizures of epileptic ecstasy.

beginnings

2006-02-08T01:04:00.000-05:00

My first post, a year ago this week.

On hindsight, that whole "I am not gonna write in capitals" stylistic thing didn't really work out, especially since I started writing articles for Club Pets & Bliss Bridal, I got less lazy with typing and like, started putting proper caps and punctuation when I typed.

Basketball-wise, all that "working on my handles" really paid off and I actually did have more than decent ballhandling skills in April or March in 2005... which have been totally undermined and derailed thanks to that bad-ass ACL-tear and shattered meniscus injury back in August. Oh well... yin and yang.

Otherwise, I think I like myself back then. Not that I don't like myself now. Joel likes Joel. Perhaps this is just a sense of nostalgia within me for how cluelessly trusting and silly I was back then.

PS. I apologize for another recycled blog entry. Less, from now on. Promise.

Ahem. The inaugural post. What can I say? A lotta things, obviously. First of all, I would like to say that this will be the last paragraph I write with consistent capital letters in the right places - now, hold your horses right there: I'm sure as hell not gonna type LiKe tHiS; its tiring, not to mention an optical torture, I'm just not gonna 'capitalize' the first word sentences anymore.

so there. much better.

well, ill begin proper, right now, by introducing myself.

i'm joel ong.

i've been serving in the singapore armed forces for two years, and right now i can just smell freedom a few months away. i am also a hopeless basketball fanatic; i'm not that great a player but i can hit the long ball pretty well, and i'm working on my handles right now to play guard properly and not just spot-up-and-shoot reggie-style. i watch soccer, like any other singaporean youth. yada yada yada.

i read - a lot. when i'm not talking or playing games i'm reading. i'm about a third into Jostien Gaardner's Sophie's World, which i cannot wait to finish. three thousand years of philosphy and history in five hundred pages? what a deal. its amazing stuff, though it gets boring now and then...

right now, i'm living alone in serangoon gardens. my parents are in canada, where we moved

when i was sixteen - i'm nearly twenty - and that's where i'm gonna go study. i don't know what i'm gonna do after i get outta school... or if i should continue my studies and take on a law degree.

well, enough about me, for now.

more importantly, id like to explain why i write this:

my entire life ive felt like in terms of thinking... ive always thought differently from everyone else. ive stood out of the pack whether or not ive wanted to, just because ive never felt a part of anything.

perhaps the closest ive felt to being part of a community was when i was in raffles institution; without a doubt the one place ive ever felt a strong belonging to. i still bleed green, black and white.

so with this blog, i think i will write down my thoughts and views on stuff.

so that i can look at them and with hindsight, try and figure out why i stand out so much from everyone else. why i feel loneliest in a crowd.

finally, i write this so that... anyone who amazingly takes time to read my musings and thoughts can figure out what i can't: why i'm so goddamned different and, well, alone wherever i go.

amen.

Joel Denounces Skinny Girls

2006-02-03T02:27:00.000-05:00

One morning, sitting at his usual spot in the middle of the marketplace at Serangoon Gardens, Joel gathered himself from his plate of nasi lemak and teh halia 'peng, and addressed the multitude of Joeloholics who had gathered in the thousands to hear Joel speak.

"Harken, women of the world, for today I have a message for of you; a message I bring to you for the good of all Mankind," said Joel, amidst the now-silent throng of young and old Joeloholics. "Denounce Hollywood and its stupid notion of ridiculously thin women!"

When the fifty thousand gathered around him heard this, suppressed cries of shock could be heard amongst a number of the women folk, but the rest of the Joeloholics bent closer toward Joel, eager to hear his words of wisdom.

"Hollywood has given all of you the impression that to be attractive, a woman must look like a malnourished bean sprout. Very truly I tell you, O Women of the world, that no man out there, be he Joeloholic or not, appreciates your kind's obsession with being unnecessarily thin.

"In recent times, Womankind has been led astray by a number of false prophets. Many are their number, but I name Victoria Beckham, the Olsen Twins and Jolin Tsai among them. These false prophets have forced unto you their absurd idea of 'beauty', made all of you feel guilty and bad about your own bodies.

"They have planted the seeds of deception in your minds, and these lies have taken root; they have made all of you feel like your butts are too big, or your thighs too thunderous to be shown in public. They have bastardized the idea of feminine beauty, and unto its sacred altar they have placed the image of an anorexic-pothead prisoner of war!"

As Joel spoke to the throng of Joeloholics, a sighing wave of whispers spread throughout the crowd. The men amongst them were giving each other knowing smiles, while the women looked at themselves and each other with wide-eyed self-consciousness.

Raising his hand to quiet the mass of Joeloholics, Joel continued, "Know this, O Women of the world, that your kind are the most special and dear creatures to me in all creation. Since the dawn of time, your kindly smiles have been a ray of light for Men; your welcoming bosoms warm sanctuary from the arduousness and monotony of the vanilla life.

"Very truly then, do I say to you, that it pains me to see you torture yourselves in search for this false-beauty. You crash-diet yourselves and, to the evils of depravity and starvation, lose what has all along been the essence of feminine beauty: boobs and ass.

"Therefore, very truly do I tell you: repent now! And return to Man what we love most about Womankind - (besides, of course, your charm, charisma, intelligence, nice eyes and effortless ability to make us laugh) - bring back the boobs and asses, bring back the luscious curves, bring back... the bootyliciousness!"

Now, by this time the restless murmurs of the fifty thousand had risen into a booming roar, with the men in the crowd chanting Joel's name in unison, while many of the women had broken down in tears, having realized the folly of their ways. That day, the marketplace resonated with fifty thousand Joeloholics who had seen the light.

forgetting things II

2006-01-31T23:20:00.000-05:00

Late, late last night a ghost from my past came out of nowhere to haunt me - and just as soon as it appeared, it went away (or in this case, offline), as if it had never been in the first place.

I haven't actually given... this issue much thought at all in recent months; I think I've managed to shove it far, far away from my everyday consciousness. I don't have the mood - or the words even - to elaborate on what this "issue" is that I'm referring to, but whoever's known me for the past year or so probably can figure it out for yourself. It's pretty obvious, actually.

Otherwise, bear with me on this; or don't read this entry, even...

The last time I actually gave this matter much thought was, well, HERE in this blog-thing, a few months back, just before flying off from Singapore. I don't think I've changed the way I feel about this, and even if I have, I wouldn't realize it since (haha) I haven't given this thought in the first place, right?

Anyway, here's what I wrote down the last time I gave this matter thought.

I don't ever like peeling at scabs. So let's stay off the long-healed scars, okay?

I know I've recycled entries twice in the last couple of days, but nonetheless, here's what I wrote then :

i just saw Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and was talking to kim about it. And i realised something.

We don't need some esoteric mind-erasing medical procedure to wipe our minds free of our unhappiness - we already do it ourselves, subconsciously or not.

Because once things go bad - so bad it hurts to the very fibres of your being to just think about things - we just tend to try and forget people exist, because it just hurts so very fucking bad.

And you try and shut out everything that reminded you of the person from your mind and... after a while you really forget; you start to realise it actually takes effort to remember about the person.

And then it reaches a phase where you *know* you actually arent automatically reminded about that person when you go to this restaurant, or you hear that song on the radio.

And at that point, you feel sad that its happening but at the same time you realise maybe its the only way you're moving on, right?

And then after a while you dont feel anything anymore, and you dont feel sad anymore, either.

And then there's just nothing left.

--- thursday, 1st sep 2005

the jo elle

2006-01-30T01:36:00.000-05:00

not quite the mona lisa, but...

Oh and I've realised that it's been practically weeks since I've posted any new photographs here. Not that I've even taken any new ones; I've had better things to do with my time lately, I think.

Anyhow... my friend Ivy - very awesome salsa partner and erstwhile queer-eye to my straight guy - got hold of uh, one of my pictures and dolled it up (very professionally, i think) just for fun and, here's the unsettling result. Behold - for your viewing (dis)pleasure, The Jo-elle, in all its unshaven, violet mascara-ed glory.

Aiight... I'm off to bed. One more test-less week before the pre-reading-week onslaught of PSY/ECO/MGT! There goes the last weekend of peace for the next fortnight...

PS. Oh, 恭喜发财，万事如意，年年有余，and whatever else... mah' fellow yellow people. Hahaha. Ha. Happy Chinese New Year...

a lunar year ago...

2006-01-29T16:47:00.000-05:00

ahh yes... one lunar year ago, i wrote in this entry:

merry xin nian

happy chinese new year, mah fellow yellow people.

is it just me, or is it just not the same this year? my cousin daniel has one feeling about chinese new year this year - he felt "sleepy". which i smugly scoffed at until i fell asleep in one of my uncles' rooms after new year's lunch at my grandma's. and found daniel standing at the door laughing at me... prick.

sigh. somehow, the mood isnt at all right this year. this year, i turn twenty. everything just becomes less special now, doesnt it? everything gets old and boring and tired; what's tradition but glorified cliche?

everything gets old and stale, doesn't it?

--- thursday, feb 10, 2005

stuff does get "older", don't it...?

not necessarily in a bad way, though; last chinese new year i think i very much still was a kid, immature and wayy too idealistic for my own good.

now i know i was blind then, but at the very least i was asking (myself) the right questions, feeling for the first time the bars of my prison, the slick, steep walls of the deep, deep wall i was toading around in. (what a horrendously mixed metaphor hah but what do i care?)

not that im really mature now. its just... startling how very much i still was a kid just a year back, so headstrong and curious about stuff, so overly trusting in the good in people.

i think i very much was still trying to figure myself out... i know this sounds lame and contrived but it really, really is amazing how writing stuff down - or in this case typing it in here - can help with hindsight and figuring out what the heck you were up to in life, instead of just careening through life like a hungover bat out of hell.

how very embarrassing. haha.

stranded

2006-01-29T02:29:00.000-05:00

Hmmph. Somehow, though have quite a couple of things want to write about, I just feel apathetic (lazy) right now.

Perhaps I'll do them later tomorrow - I mean later today; it's already hella late and I think I'm just gonna get some sleep so I don't mess up my sleep-schedule too bad. Busy week ahead. =)

Yeah, that's decided. Tomorrow shall (hopefully) have a proper post which does justice to stuff.

Oh yeah. One thing.

I got a call from my dad just now in the afternoon while I was studying in my room at about three-ish... my dad was fumbling around for his gloves at the lake near Port Credit and he dropped his car keys into the water, stranding himself and the camry (which he was locked out of) a forty minute's walk from our house, necessitating me to make the journey down lakeshore to bring him back.

Not wanting to walk the disgusting distance on foot, I hopped onto my brother's ancient bicycle, thinking that cycling down lakeshore boulevard would be easy. I think-ed wrong.

The back tire, I realized after riding out of my lane, was desperately flat and the gear-shifting mechanism was totally, totally screwed, which made the rolling gradient of the road an absolute biatch to cycle on.

Thank goodness it was nice and warm... this big leather clad guy zoomed past me noisily in his huge Harley and, well, that was the low, low point of the afternoon.

I need... a car. Or a motorbike. To bail my dad out of silly situations, at least.

COME ON, SANTA!!!

i think i have patrick ewing knees

2006-01-26T23:48:00.000-05:00

Today, Mister Joel went to ball a bit - nothing crazy, just shooting the ball around - and he's realized that his handles are pretty, pretty gone. His shot is, too. But given some time I don't think getting them back would be a problem at all. I can still dribble and shoot SOME... I'm just hella rusty. No biggie. Just need practice...

... which, unfortunately, I don't think I'm gonna get... after shooting around for a bit I realized that my OTHER knee was starting to ache. Not good. So I quit shooting around and went to do some cardio, which is a lot less impact-ey on my knees than jump shooting. Apparently the doctors were right... I think that the four or so months I've spent favouring my right leg when walking since I got hurt back in August have putten quite a lot of stress on my "good" knee.

In other words, I think Mister Joel's going to be laying off his grand basketball plans for a while. Oh well. No biggie. Time to get better first... ball can wait. It better wait til I get both knees back to 100 percent.

And I forgot to mention this but my physiotherapist said I'll be ready to actually play ball in six weeks. Think will work my way into it - slowly.

Slowly.

oh, and had vg egg tarts today on baldwin street which is just south of campus.

eighty one

2006-01-23T20:53:00.000-05:00

If you haven't heard about it yet, Kobe Bryant scored eighty one points in a game against the Raptors. Eighty one points, fellas. On the Raps, who, despite their pedestrian record, are playing tremendous team basketball as of late.

Now, Kobe has been the target of a LOT of hate throughout his entire career; some of it well-deserved, some of it unfounded. The alleged rape scandal, the beef with (my idol) Karl Malone, Phil Jackson branding him "the most uncoachable player ever", the incessantly bitchy Kobe-vs-Shaq-infighting that has plagued sports news headlines for longer than anyone can remember - Kobe's reputation has taken a severe beating on every single of the aforementioned occasions.

However, team success usually shuts the (playa) haters up, right?

Like in the case of Allen Iverson's overnight 180 degree transformation in the eyes of the world, where he went from "selfish" and "a thug" to having more "heart" than any other player in the NBA. Real ball fanatics, we know. Iverson didn't change, it's just that putting together that amazingly inspirational season back in 2001 which culminated in a tenaciously determined run to the NBA Finals showed the "mainstream" basketball audience what we real fans knew: we loved Iverson, his "selfish" tags, gritty tats notwithstanding, because he made us believe that if you tried hard enough, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, there isn't anything in the world that can hold you back.

That we knew. We saw the crossover on MJ. The thousands of times he recklessly throws his body into the gauntlet of seven footers' knees and elbows. Saw him stepping over Tyronne Lue after torching him in Game 1 of that 2001 NBA Finals, watched him carry a Sixer team perenially lacking in depth into the playoffs every damn year. We saw, we knew - and we loved.

How does this have anything to do with Kobe, might you ask?

Because Kobe has proven his greatness already. Iverson hasn't won a title yet, and neither does T-mac or KG. Kob' has three. The thing is, everyone knows how good Kobe is... they know there isn't anyone on earth right now who can guard him one-on-one, hell, three-on-one, even. The success? It's been there for years, and still - still, the hate continues.

Ironically, unlike most other basketball superstars, Kobe has been an annoyingly private person. He tells us - even today, in his latest interview(s) - to stop comparing him to MJ. Can we help but? From day one, it always seemed like was trying to emulate MJ, on and off the court, from the gorgeous fadeaways to his mannerisms.

While the basketball world has always seemed overly eager to slap on the title of "Next Jordan" on every promising youngster who has emerged in the NBA since The Great One (first) retired, from Grant Hill more than a decade ago to Lebron in the present, no one player has seemed so eager to assume that mantle, literally, as Kobe has, like the bratty 'keener in the front row of your math class who raises his hand at every damn question.

Moreover, sadly enough, the more Kob' tried to better his image by hiding his inner emotions from the media, the more the quietly proud superstar tried to keep his peace, the more his reputation plummeted in the eyes of the public. He always seemed too proud to "hang" with everyone else, a fact seemed even more evident in contrast to Shaq's over-the-top, yet ultimately, genuinely nice demeanour.

Will this 81 - I say again, EIGHTY ONE POINTS - shut the haters up? Deep inside, I honestly hope so... because I was once a Kobe hater myself too.

For every great player out there, there will be haters. Sometimes, however, the odd moment occurs when the hater sees through the bias and dislike. When the hate just disappears, so suddenly, you could swear it never existed in the first place.

That moment for me came in Game 4 of the 2000 Finals, when the Lakers faced off against a veteran Pacer team stacked with depth, firepower and dogged determination. If you can remember, Shaq fouled out in OT against the red-hot Pacers, and Kobe turned to the bench and motioned for the Lakers to "cool down", then went on to singlehandedly take over the game in one of the greatest clutch performances ever.

With time dwindling down and the game on the line, Kobe pulled up and hit a jumper with a hand in his face at the top of the key. The next possesion, he audaciously did the same move on virtually the same spot - with the same results: net. Sensing danger, the Pacers then denied him the ball on the ensuing possession, but Kobe eluded his defender and hustled inside for the offensive rebound, slashing inside to acrobatically tip the ball in from behind the basket. Lakers win.

That game broke the Pacers, whose hopes of seizing control of the series evaporated with that heart-wrenching loss to the Shaq-less Lakers. From that day on, I've been a Kobe diehard fan.

To conclude, I have no idea how this revolutionary performance will affect Kobe's rep. Hate him or love him, you just cannot knock on someone who's scored 81 points in a basketball game.

PS. For the record, Mr. Joel's career high was 24 points in a U-14 South Zone match. Haha.

the worst possible start...

2006-01-23T07:44:00.000-05:00

make that ZERO sleep as well... ive been tossing and turning and looking at the clock every 10 minutes or so since i tried to sleep at 3am except for a half-hour stretch from maybe 630am til 700 am where i knew i was asleep because for a fleeting moment i was dribbling a basketball in RI and blocking out my tall useless teammate.

~o-hhh what a way to sta-art the day ahead~

indeed.

sonovabitch.

accrued homework

2006-01-23T02:31:00.000-05:00

Sunday's schedule:

1100hrs - wake up, wash up, have brunch

1300
- 1500hrs - accounting readings

1500
- 1800hrs - psychology readings

1800
- 2000hrs - dinner + watching band of brothers which made self feel v garang for while

2000
- 2200hrs - math practice

2200
- 0115hrs - more accounting readings + tutorial prep

ZERO experience points earnt, ZERO tanks blown up, ZERO rounds fired, ZERO monsters killed, ZERO levels gained... (read: no games played at all)

keep holy the sabbath, they said... no work supposed to be done on the sabbath, they said...

pfah.

somehow that sick little pimply ri boy inside me is feeling better than if he'd spent the day sleeping, watching soccer, watching some julia roberts / tom hanks / etc. romantic comedy over the afternoon... etc.

still, whatever. accrued homework beats... being way behind like last term, right?

uh... whatever. i dont even know when chinese new year officially happens.

twisted sh*t

2006-01-20T23:39:00.000-05:00

(lame recounting of nightmare ahead)

I had another one of those very vivid dreams on Monday night. I dreamt I was walking in this huge Vegas-ey casino-ish skyscraper building packed with thousands of people having fun and shopping.

Somehow, my dream-consciousness-self then had a vision of myself standing dozens of storeys up in the charred, molten skeletal ruins of that very same building, which kinda looked like what buildings look like when they're under construction, only just that this time, someone had reversed the process - and what remained of the building was its frayed, metallic hollowed out cadaverish exoskeleton.

From my vantage point high up in the wreck, I could see huge smouldering crater-like holes in the skyscraper and... I could see all the way down to the ground storey, because one of the holes seemed to have been bore-d vertically right through the entire building, which shook when the wind blew.

The dream-joel then returned to my (his) self, where I was back in the undamaged thriving skyscraper, with a mortifying cold feeling in my body borne of the knowledge that something really, really wrong was going to happen soon.

I remember to run around shouting, trying to warn people, trying to get them out of the building because I knew shit was going to happen, but they thought I was crazy and didn't listen to me. I tried to hit the fire alarm but then these security guards grabbed me and threw me out before I could. Like Cassandra of Troy, my warnings went unheeded and the last thing I remember in the dream is of me hopelessly leopard crawling on my hands and knees away from the skyscraper as it came crashing down behind me...

all i want for christmas is...

2006-01-20T11:46:00.000-05:00

honda rebel 250

c'mon santa...

...

2006-01-16T00:54:00.000-05:00

you know, maybe i'm wrong about all of this; about this whole "love" thing beind overrated and delusional.

it's just that once you take a third person viewpoint on it and... see the mechanics of it all, you just get cynical and, well, bitter at the same time (since you're outside looking in), the same way bridget jones feels around conceited married folk. there's jus

haha whatever! i can't believe i spent a weekend pondering over this nonsense! i don't know what it is exactly that happened in the last coupla days exactly that set me on this mopey line of thought, but it's as if i touched emo-kryptonite.

i'm back to normal now though. #$@#^!& emotions. anyway, my steadily growing army of die-hard joelistas look to me for support and inspiration and i cannot afford to falter like this anymore.

haha. ha.

"why aren't you attached?"

2006-01-13T23:41:00.000-05:00

Before I forget, I've come up with my third spring term resolution, and it's a good one:

#3: Have fun. Sound simple? It is... sorta. It means scheduling time to read books for leisure, it means putting in the effort to, well, bust my ass studying productively and smartly so I have more time to spend "relak-ing one corner". In other words, work and play hard(er?).

Yeah, I realize that balance has been lacking in my life last term. I'd work like crazy for a test and then lay off for a coupla days too long, only to find myself struggling to catch up for the next test. And the book I was reading at the start of term, Che Guevara's Guerilla Warfare, remains semi-read. I think I've been doing a good job reading in my free time so far this week to get my mind off stuff, while doing work instead of lazing in front of the internet or some Super Nintendo game.

On a wholly unrelated note, someone *cough cough* asked me a pretty interesting question earlier this week: "Why aren't you attached?"

Why aren't I attached? Why should I be?

First of all, I abhore these stupid tags people put on other people. "Together". "Attached". Or the worst one - "Going Steady". I mean, geez, what gives, man? At what point in any relationship does anyone go "hey let's be together"? There's no... yardstick to say you're "with" someone, or are "just friends", is there? Should there be one, even?

Excuse me, folks, but I just don't get this whole "attached" thing anymore. If there's... something going on between two people, then that's it: leave it at that. Don't... slap a TAG on them and go "Oh they're attached! It's so sweet!"

Unless of course...

At the same time, and I'm playing the devil's advocate here, how many people do you know (or are you one of them) who prance around the place and go "I've got a girlfriend/boyfriend now" when they start seeing someone and decide its "official", thus tagging themselves as being "attached" for the world to see?

Hell, what makes someone *your* boyfriend/girlfriend? Is there a measure for even that, a modern social date-o-meter that determines when, or how, even, someone becomes "attached"? And, what makes them *yours*, yours to own like a emm-effing trophy?

While we're on this - though I probably am stretching things a bit far - what is a date? I remember talking to a close friend... I think it must've been Gabriel about this perhaps a year or so ago. What is a date? Coffee? A meal? Going by that definition I've been dating every day for the last 9 or so months with several different people. Or do you have to be interested in the person - and does the person have to reciprocate for even that to count?

But I, as I often find myself doing, digress.

Why am I - and ohh, do I hate to use this term - unattached, indeed?

At this point in my life, I feel so... powerful. Like I can do anything. My ex-colleague Kathy (of legendary "fire siren" fame) said that "when you're in your early twenties you feel like you can accomplish anything you want", and she's right. I don't just feel like I can do anything I want right now; I know it.

And I realize that I want it, too. At the same time, I've seen so many friends lose their individuality, lose their edge, their power and oomph when they get "attached". Think "Bennifer" and you'll understand how traumatic this phenomena is to behold for the casual singleton onlooker; two perfectly fine, interesting people melded together to form something far less than the sum of its parts, into an irritatingly vanilla symbiotic entity, joined at the hip incessantly like a pair of incredibly blah Siamese twins.

Yet, despite all these jaded feelings, it's not as if I can't, haven't or don't have "feelings" toward someone. Yes, the shards of the rose-tinted glasses of my youth have long been crushed underfoot, and I find it hard to think about (and I cringe, saying this) letting my heart go without thinking about soulless, metallic things like opportunity costs and the compromises and everything else distasteful.

At the same time, there's a little wussy boy underneath my skin, underneath it all, who just like everyone else, yearns more than anything else just to... to love and be loved in return.

Am I, like most of the Male Species, suffering from fear of commitment, quite possibly the number one thing that makes girls roll their eyes and mutter "ugh, men..." under their breaths? I don't think so. Anyone who's been close, really close to me since my time in RI, since secondary school knows that, even as my delusions of "eternity" crumble into ashes.

And at the end of all this that I've thought of and written... at the end of it all, to answer the question... I DON'T KNOW. I really don't know why I'm not... attached. I know one thing though - whatever happens, happens.

And even as I write this I realize that virtually - no, eerily enough, exactly - a year has passed since I made some very costly and ugly mistakes in my life. I... couldn't see beyond my own delusions and put myself into a vulnerable position to be hurt, more hurt than I'd ever been.

In other words, I didn't fire the gun - but I walked into the line of fire with my eyes wide open.

I see now with hindsight that putting myself in that position by my own doing... I have no one to blame but myself for how things ended horribly. How years and years of something so good, so seemingly eternal, so very much there burnt itself out in a two-minute phone conversation sitting in my friend's car, so that now even the ashes are blown away and long, long forgotten.

Wow. Haha.

I've been pretty pensively prolific today, haven't I?

That took a lot out of me, but I'm feeling better already.

Whatever the case, it's already 2.30 AM, in the wee small hours of Saturday morning, and there's some EPL to be watched in about six hours, I think. Have survived the week, the first week of a new term. Let there be many more good weeks in the uh, weeks ahead... =)

AMEN and God bless.

r.i.p. rambutan

2006-01-11T00:43:00.000-05:00

Whoever's known me long enough knows about my near-obsessive fascination with my own hair. I go through occasional phases where I get horrified with my hair and shave it all off, like I did recently (and right before i ORD-ed, and once more before that during the glory days of The Ong'eh! Escapades).

Anyway, my hair's grown out and I've been looking like a rambutan (which by the way is my favourite fruit ever) for a while now...

looks kinky but is hella, hella good... just like a certain someone i know =)

... but I went to get it cut at this Korean hairdressing place and got it tidied up and feel so much better about myself, somehow. And even though the lady who did my hair couldn't really understand English - her "lady boss" at least was more than quite a bit better - at least I managed to, on a whole, get across how I wanted my hair done (sheeesh). Which actually turned out pretty good, I think. Been getting good reviews so far. Good change... though ANYTHING is a good change from previous "prison break" hair.

Tan Ah Teck moral of the story? Not speaking someone's language might impede communication but there's no message a smile and polite-ness cannot get across.

a fresh start...?

2006-01-10T01:45:00.000-05:00

Well... maybe not so fresh. By the time I got to bed last night - 2am - I was really physically drained, but after an e t e r n i t y of tossing and turning, I turned to my alarm clock and saw that it was already half past four.

I woke at seven thirty to call my physiotherapist to try and squeeze in an appointment. Not the fresh start I imagined.

On a brighter note, it was good to see my friends in school again. Even though I was running on pure caffeine all day... Heh.

Plus signed up for salsa dance! This might be the most awesome / most embarrassing thing I think I ever do. Or both. We'll see... =)

Timetable this term kinda sucks ass though. I've got... a six hour break on Tuesday, and a five hour one on Thursday. Otherwise, it's pretty cool... 'cept for Monday I only have two lessons a day, which really isn't half bad if you think about it. If not for the really, really long breaks. Ugh.

Okay, I've come up with SPRING TERM RESOLUTIONS #1 & #2:

#1: Don't goof off like did last term and bum entire weekends away thus necessitating entire latter half of term catching up with weeks-behind readings/notes.

#2: Work out like a m&@^$#)%#*#r in my free time in school (which has been lengthened, greatly, unless I pull some nifty last minute course-changing magic again)...

Aiight. Booyakasha! Think am gonna sleep like a brick tonight.

Lights out, peoples.

hulk angry... hulksmash!!!

2006-01-09T01:18:00.000-05:00

mmph

2006-01-08T01:44:00.000-05:00

Saturday night, post workout (and mid-detox) and I find myself here typing into this thing once more. Several times over the past few days I've half-written posts, then scrapped the entire thing because I deemed it not post-worthy; something I wouldn't have done in the past... but f*ck it, for *shudder* truly the lack of a better way of expressing myself: I'ma try and keep it real from now on.

I semi-tried on two occasions to think of new year resolutions, but couldn't come up with legitimate, realistic or good ones. So I'll just come up with spring term ones... just not today.

Lots of stuff to do in the coming week:

check out info session on the hong kong summer abroad program and hope its not uber-competitive and, even worse, uber-fobbish (what is becoming of me omg)
send in stupid financialaiddraggypapers
possibly sign up for revolver club (should i though)
sign up for salsa dancing =)
(there's gotta be one or two things I'm missing here)
oh yes haircut. at korean place. look like rambutan now.
otherstuffthat'simportanttoo

Just saw Top Gun again on tv... it's such a great movie, even after all these years. Especially so, actually. I don't think I understood it that much when I saw it as a kid. But post-army, post-Ace Combat 5, I think I really loved it more this time.

(PS. Ace Combat 5 is the best flight sim ever. It's the one flight sim with such an amazing storyline which actually moved me to tears mid-mission... it's that good. Anyone who's served in the army would really, really feel this game.)

For the record, I think pre-katieholmes Tom Cruise was one of the coolest guys around. Always the epitome of cool, smirking charm, with a gorgeous (and not underaged) babe of a wife. Now though... he's hopping on Oprah's sofa and making a fool of himself all the time. It just seems the more he tries to tell the world how much he loves Katie Holmes, the less people actually care. Poor, poor man.

Bah and now "take my breath away" is stuck in my head!

christmas eve 2004

2006-01-02T12:40:00.000-05:00

from left to right - front: danny "friendster" wong, "shahrukh" ganesh (with nippleman alvin grabbing him), jc chang, sarge' carter, mr. joel
back: weiwen aka. autumn, henry "100020003000" tan, gallen kang, jordan, YY aka. Singapore's Brainiest NSman

christmas eve 2004 - my buddy alvin the kimchiboy sent me this picture recently. i totally forgot about that day, until i saw this.

i think... on christmas eve we had this little carnival thing with a coupla inter-company sports. we PWNED everyone else at captain's ball. especially the signal dudes! hur hur.

and then we had this basketball tournament in our brigade, if i recall correctly... and my team - me and three of my men - got to the finals, convincingly beating a few very decent sniper teams and some not-so-decent-at-all hq teams along the way... before falling to neo-neo's team of bruisers in the finals.

well, i remember pulling off a fancy reverse lay up or two heh heh but losing sucks major, major ass. i think i was too hyped up and i missed a ton of shots in that last match.

i hate to blame it on the refereeing but... that pig-headed joke of an officer who only has bars on his shoulder cuz his dad is some bigshot is the most biased referee ever. and everyone there could see it. if he wasnt a captain - and i wasnt "just a lousy third sargeant" - i would uh, sort it out with him. or try to.

pfah. what a dumbass.

sigh anyway those were fun times. i dont know, all of a sudden i miss the brigade runs, in particular. haha. at least once a week our brigade personnel would have this nice 5km-or-so run out of camp in the bukit gombak area, (though occasionally we'd go to really nifty places like pasir ris park) and i TRY MY UTMOST to run as slow as possible and run with the geriatric warrant officers haha who overtake me and give me this "my god what is this guy doing running slower than me" look.

its an amazing feeling to run really really really slow and smile at all the civilians. ok this just sounds weird now. but yes it is fun to smile at every civilian female fellow-runner in the park, instead of zooming around huffing and puffing like an unglam sweaty army boy.

glamorous nua-ing doesnt have its (other) rewards too i got my ippt gold by being the slowest running non-walker in the brigade!

haha... good times.

oh by the way, this is kinda random but check this out: ali g interviews the beckhams. its really, really funny. and trust me, its not one of those fake scary shock videos where a skull pops out of the screen.

well, its NOT one of them.

2006-01-01T13:02:00.000-05:00

time to leave the past... behind.

Finally - it's the first of January, and it's about time, too.

Maybe I'll be eating my words a month from now when I'm schlumped behind chapters of psychology readings, but I sure as heck am sick of this whole holiday thing.

I don't think I've ever had a longer period of inactivity since, well, since I enlisted in April 2003; the breaks I've had have always been those 3-4 days of clearing leave, so at most I'd have a week off.

And, when I was done with the army I was already working weekends at a cafe... plus I was well into my lovely stint with Club Pets (and yes, Bliss Bridal) Magazine. Big thanks to Cousin Yockie for that (haha). No rest for more than a week in the last three years... and now this three week-period (it's hardy been a FORTNIGHT since I sat my last paper) seems like eternity.

So yes, my point is, I feel more than rested and ready for the spring term's workload. Bring it on, bitches.

2005 - what a year indeed.

I think I've changed more as a person in this year than in any other year in my life. More drama this year than any other... not to mention biggest injury I've ever had in my life. Hackneyed as it sounds, what doesn't kill you does indeed make you stronger.

Everything you go through does temper your spirit; I've wondered before - here, I think - whether this "tempering" of your spirit actually is just a deadening of your soul, whether it's just your heart slapping on more and more rings of dry, scaly, unfeeling bark around its tender, soft core.

So am I - are we - stronger from another year's ups and downs... or do we just don't care as much anymore?

Frankly, it doesn't really matter.

A good, great, wonderful thing about 2005 is that, maybe halfway through the year, I stopped over-analyzing things as much as I once did, and just did them. Even if it meant hopping from one pot of overflowing trouble to the next, so what?

Whatever happens - happens, man.

Here's to a new year ahead, brimming with promise of ups and downs, tears of joy and misery, and above all, a hell of a good time. Bottoms up, folks.

*clink*

UGH...

2005-12-31T02:04:00.000-05:00

Have you ever watched a movie and... even though you didn't like it, "tahan" (persevere) in hope that the movie got good, to try and salvage your 10 or so bucks? I have. Sometimes, it's worth it - Episode III's slow start, super-cheesy lines ( courtesy of poor Ewan Mcgregor in particular: "You're not gonna get away this time, Dooku!" / "Sith lords are our speciality") and awkward kooky scenes between Padme and Anakin notwithstanding, watching the defeated, burning Darth Vader scream "I hate youu!" while sliding into the lava made it worth it.

The last twenty minutes of Ep III alone made it... more than worth it.

On the other hand, sometimes you sit there in hope for the kick-ass fight scene that never comes, or the really funny gag that isn't. Jett Li & DMX's Cradle 2 The Grave was honestly the most anticlimatic movie ever. I shouldn't fork out money for two hours of... indifference.

*video-game blabbfest ahead*

i just wasted the last three hours of my life playing a game in HOPE that it would get good: Tactics Ogre. After reading several glowing reviews on GAMEFAQS, I expected it to be good. Well, maybe after playing FF Tactics on the PS to *death* I have really high expectations for a strategy RPG, but still.

This was utter crap. It never got good. I thought the initial slow-ness of the game's pace was 'cuz my characters levels were really low but... I mean, come on, if my mage can stand toe to toe with a similarly-levelled enemy knight and not DIE in like 5 turns... this is utter bullshit. My entire party had to gang-bang *each* enemy for more than a turn in order to take him down. The hell? I just gave up on the game. I really wanted to like it, too.

mmph.

2005-12-27T02:11:00.000-05:00

Okayy, so I didn't accomplish as much as I wanted to over the last week. Tough. Still...

I did pretty much settle most of my financial stuff, work out a bit, watch a bitchload of television, complete TWO rpg games (which actually is quite a gaming achievement)... and yeah, I finally cleaned my room. w00t!

It's really early Tuesday morning, and I'm unbelievably bored; I've spent the last coupla days catching up on a term's worth of sleep. Massive bumming. Not that I'm complaining - I won't get the chance to breathe a fortnight from now...

In the mean time, though, things are aaight. Watched Jesus Christ Superstar on tv again. They practically show it every Easter / Christmas, man, but it never gets old. It's soo good... I love how Jesus n His apostles are dressed in hippie-robes. And Judas kicks serious ass, honestly. The pharisees too were really good.

Spent the last half hour trying various ways to clean my Apple iBook... with much futility. I swear, cleaning an M16 or even a friggin SAW is easier than getting these $%&#@ stains off. I can't get these stains off - I'm a guy. We *make* stains - we don't take them off. Sheesh.

Aiyah. Oh Martha Stewart, where art thouuu?

stand by area stand by area!!!

2005-12-22T17:09:00.000-05:00

PRE-OPS BRIEFING:

On Tuesday, 20-12-2005, 2100hrs, BLUELAND armed forces conducted an area cleaning operation, OPERATION ROOMHASNTBEENCLEANIN3YEARS. Area of ops included JOEL'S ROOM; the following pre-op reconnaissance photographs were expertly taken by recce teams...

chest of drawers / bookshelf / SLAM magazine collection / jeans schlump-ee

OPFOR appears to be in general disarray - with generous helpings of pyjamas, crumby plates & textbooks...

Presence of 02 X 15lb Dumbbells next to PSY100 textbook verified

POST-OPERATION RECCE SITREP:

An hour or so later; 01 X big trashbag and lots of wiping later, JOEL'S ROOM is restored. Post-operation surveillance of key terrain features have yielded the following pictures:

standard chest-of-drawers layout

everything is "flushhhhh"-ed

"pwnage"!!!

Aaah. The glorious present; not SUPER tidy but if sargeant carter was here at least i wouldn't send him into a vein-popping fit. again. (like when he and the dudes came over to my place a year or so ago and found every horizontal surface covered in maxim's, newman's, SLAM's and 8days...)

Very proud of self. Not an outstanding area cleaning but very passable, if i may say so myself. ESPECIALLY for my track record of untidiness... my bunkmates can attest to my triple-doubledecker bunk-beds of junk...

Still, like any sargeant worth his salt, I found my share of "magic dust" a coupla hours later... pfah whatever.

magic dust - bane of the area-cleaner

hmmm goals...

2005-12-19T00:13:00.000-05:00

ooh am in a good mood from metallica and exercise. metallica is so good and their S&M concert cd is fantastic stuff. which i got a year or so back at $25 or so at sembawang music centre instead of hmv which slapped on an "import" tag on the exact same cd and was selling it at $4o!!!

now who says guys dont know how to shop for stuff.

the holidays are deceptively long... but are in fact, pretty short if you break it down - which i will. i have all of three weeks to do what i need to do... so lets begin by laying out what i WILL get done this week:

1. finalize paperwork for all that financial whatnot ive been putting off...
2. pack my room and organize my notes, files, books, cds, etc... this i will get done this afternoon. just watch me, sargeant carter. i promise "before-and-after" photos.
3. (possibly) get my eyes checked. i am living in an increasingly buzzy world. fuuuck.
4. work out everyday! whether in gym or not...
5. finally get to reading some proper non-school books, like che's motorcycle diaries and dan brown's angels and demons
6. begin catching up on weeks-behind psychology readings and note-taking...

yes. thats it. by this sunday night shall see how productive i am.

oh and since the exams ended ive been having really strange, vivid dreams. since thursday ive dreamt that:

i still had one more paper - which unbelievably enough was CHINESE - and was madly cramming away with a "shou3 ce4" trying to memorize hundreds of words...
i was in this truly freaky memory-melange of the university and my old army camp, where i was walking around school filled with majors and warrant officers and i had to salute people while walking around the corridors in between lectures...
i was exploring this dank dungeon with my fellow khaki-clad explorers in search for some holy book and uh, being attacked by vampires, went around frantically reading some sacred inscription on the book which turned the vampires into grave dust. upon escaping the tomb, one of the other explorers misread this weird incantation and caused four or five other suns to appear in the sky, to the horror of everyone... and then credits rolled down across my consciousness, sheesh.

head hurts... a lot.

2005-12-16T23:53:00.000-05:00

ughhh...

okay so i went to exercise today, and somewhere between jogging and shooting a ball around my head started hurting like crazy, and by the time i got home every move of my head, evey step i took sent throbbing jolts of uh pain... up my uh head?

what a bitchhhh ive been in bed since i got back ugh...

the procrastination begins... not.

2005-12-15T23:49:00.000-05:00

okay, exercise cut, folks.

exams are over!

aha. so i have about three or so weeks of christmas holiday... and to kick things off on a NON lazy note, i shall go work out tomorrow, and shoot around a bit at the court if its free! im so excited haha havent touched a ball in... four months. thats longer than ive ever been without ball in my life since like, primary four or so.

whee! holidays! need to catch up on readings though. sonovabitch readings...

knee will be 100 percent in may or so, but i think it will be a lot longer before i can play competitively... your body just doesnt forget getting hurt like that so easily, you know what i mean?

so yeah, no more reckless drives and uh craziness from me. for now at least. ughh no more getting hurt not worth it its been 4 months of pain and trouble.

STILL. can shoot again! jumpers, at that. NO PULL UP JUMPERS THOUGH thats how i got hurt. no dribble pull ups. at all. just jumpers. square footed ones. no fadeaways? fadeaways... gahhhh the hell. seriously. the hell.

sighhh. what has become of moi, the Sultan of Garangness himself... how the mighty have fallen, indeed.

oh, and the list of stuff im gonna do? hah whatever ill do it tomorrow. (haha...)

tomorrow we worry. tonight we rejoice in the end of the term!!!

ps. just saw the truman show on teevee. great great movie. jim carrey is such a good actor when he isnt being lame...

phew...

2005-12-14T23:26:00.000-05:00

phew.

i just, over the last two days, did every math paper on the website for practice... from last year's one all the way back to '98 when i was in sec one. i didnt even goof around today or play super nintendo or watch nba or exercise. will not laugh at muggers anymore like did in sec school.

yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeshhh.

hopefully will be worth it for tomorrows paper.

so tired.

PFAH and this morning at 7am was woken up by my dad who was thought it was thursday! it is wednesday. i switched on the TV and like the morning news said wednesday morning 7 am. not fun. not fun. not fun. and he was like "you have an exam this morning!" which... was obviously not the case. waking up before the sun rises is really, really not cool. the hell.

without a doubt one of the Worst Things Ever in recent memory.

ughhhh...

well good night and amen to exams...

PS.

tomorrow will come up with list of stuff will do over the holz... comprehensive liiist.

one-exam-left-for-bae-yong-jooooel !!

2005-12-12T17:42:00.000-05:00

hah!!

just got back from commerce exam. which wasnt TOO bad but wasnt good at all. i had to resort to snazzy Princeton Review "Cracking The SAT" techniques (read: guessing) for a THIRD of the paper... haha.

pfah. and ahem ahem in line with TRADITION, we had a whole topic of half-hearted, badly phrased and worse of all, grammatically wrong questions (!) from He Who Must Not Be Named.

sonovabitchinbastard. at least he could've had someone proof-read his questions. i think its just lame how some of the professors in this course can be so absolutely brilliant and amazing teachers and some can be just plain indifferent.

heh heh one good thing happened today though. was at chinesey bakery buying some egg tarts... and the bakery lady gave me an extra spring roll on the house! looks like bae yong joel, grizzled veteran of OPERATION CARPE TAI TAI 01, hasnt lost his touch. umm. yeah.

back...

2005-12-10T23:15:00.000-05:00

quick question: at what point in studying do you reach the point of "diminishing marginal returns"?

answer: when youre trying really, really hard to think of the factors of 15; "umm... 15 x 1 and... thats about it..." and then you check the answer sheet and see (x - 5)(x - 3) and give yourself a swift mental kick in the nuts.

phew. long day staring at a term long of commerce notes and im so spent... math is not a good thing to do when youre tired, i realize. methinks id be much better off getting some pushups done and then getting back to staring at my commerce notes.

btw... apparently, i am NOT the only poor mofo in class who cant make a clue out of the horrible notes. anyone who reads this and knows what im talking about, go check up our course website forum and look at all the ppl who went "does anyone have a typed-out version of our notes? i wrote so much during the lectures but its all gibberish to me". har har.

have two full days to do as many math papers as i like... and its not as if i'm particularly BAD at calculus, thanks to my old Mr. Ong - from the mavis tuition centre at during my sec three and four years in RI - who like, brought my maths grades up from the C6's (50's) to A2s (70's)at least... a tremendously good and patient tutor. who remembered me when i went back to see him yearss later! =)

my friend kathy asked me in math class the other day whether i was a math or an "englishey" kinda person. and honestly, i really dont know. i like to *think* im good at english and literature and stuff - not to toot my own horn (is that the expression?), but i did win some essay competitions in catholic high primary, and i did have an essay or two photocopied as "model" essays back in secondary school... plus, HELL, i was a writer for club pets and bliss bridal magazines.

i also, however, didnt do as well as i thought i would for english and literature for my O levels... and actually did much better in general for my sciencey and mathsey subjects. plus in high school i did purely mathsey and sciencey courses and i did all right in them.

and funnily enough when i tell people im studying business people tell me i should be in journalism?! hmm honestly i think if i had my way i woulda been studying that in university... but getting a business degree will probably be more useful in the long run, no?

perhaps when all is said and done i will write a book. hell, i WILL write a book. one day.

aaand good news at last for mr joel's knee!!! my physiotherapist cleared me to dribble around and shoot jumpshots! the past four-plus months have been the longest i have ever gone without dribbling or shooting a basketball since i was primary three or so. very nice. methinks will go shoot around after exam on monday, if can find free court in the AC or hart house. j diddy is back, suckas.

PS. have decided that over winter n summer n holidays will TRY and pick up brother's guitar and teach self how to play...

...then next year will lug a guitar to school and sit in the subway in between classes in tattered army cargoes and worn-out jungle hat and dark aviator shades and make some bourbon money from passersby while my guitar gently weeps...

lima-papa-papa-lima...

2005-12-09T18:34:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it is frustrating.

To try and study and learn when you have teachers to whom *teaching* is the LAST thing on their minds.

I have a lecturer who "taught" us for the last three weeks of our course, some big shot from a big school in the US, and the university probably forks out big wads of moolah for him to lecture us.

Why waste the money, though? Very honestly, there probably isn't very much doubt in EVERYONE'S mind how great and powerful and clever (and rich) a man he is from his three weeks of pompous self-promotion...

However, as a lecturer he has pretty much done nothing to educate us, other than stand up in front of seven hundred of us and recount tales of his ingenius achievements, leaving us to sift through all that fluff to actually try and get some semblance of knowledge.

What's so infuriating about it is that he is *so* obvious about being more worried about his own self interests than with teaching us. Every week - no, every lecture - begins with a page-long disclaimer on how the lecture slides "do not necessarily reflect the views of the author", being "part of a presentation (that) cannot be fully understood separately from the presentation".

It gets better: "Ideas presented here are preliminary and their intent is to promote further discussion and analysis. They may not present a complete or well-articulated picture of the author's views".

What that means is that his slides are purposely vague so that nobody can use them to sue him - admittedly, he's been some big representative in certain major uh, cases - but what about teaching the students? Isn't that the least bit important, too? And I've been at every of his lectures; more storytelling sessions than lessons, two hours of listening to a man reminisce about his golden past.

My point? The school should pay someone to teach. They probably could pay a less gloriously qualified person a lot less to do the job of a teacher, instead of paying someone at the friggin zenith of his profession to stand in front of the podium and give long oratory speeches about his own wonderful achievements, all the while skillfully (and intentionally) sidestepping saying anything at all substantial that might possibly jeopardize his own reputation.

A slap in the face to anyone in the teaching profession, in my very honest opinion.

nana-nana-nana-nana-batman!!!!

2005-12-06T18:59:00.000-05:00

sigh.... look what i dug up and scanned? this was wayy back when i was staying with my aunts and grandparents, back when i was about three or four then, i think... playing in the red choo-choo train at pasir ris park... you know which one! i loved that place. reallyfunplace.

i must say that i was a sweet looking child. was. i have no idea what exactly went wrong in the fifteen-plus years in between then and now, but a LOT apparently did...

"Ani, you're breaking my heart!"