Friday, June 26, 2009

Ignorance is NOT bliss!!

Stupidity is only a state of mind...


My mind is set on it's state...

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Alice in Wonderland

This time the title is Alice in Wonderland.
Alice in Wonderland?
!@#!@$@#$%#^$%$&^&#$%#$
I never read the book and watched the movie ONCE when my brain was in its premature developing stage.
I think it was sometime last week.
I can't remember.


-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Alice in Wonderland

I arose in a field of serenity as she grasped my hand and pranced on dew filled grass.
This mysterious stranger who appended joy on a plaintive soul.
I gazed into her eyes and was led astray in the infinity of splendor.
Who was this enchantress who stole the essence of beauty and hid it in her smile.

She skipped a stones throw and signaled to follow.
With a wave of her hand, she tore the morning light from the sky to reveal the gleam of moonlight on the mirrored lake.
The scintillating stars marched into order as she plucked them from the sky and nested them in my pocket.

She strolled down the lane and rested by the mangrove tree.
The sound of the shores sang her praise with each crashing wave.
Truly, she clasped my fluttering heart that kissed the palms of her hands.
I craved to apprehend her and pleaded for her name.
She blew a soft whisper into the breeze and vanished.

The wind carried her voice through the rustled trees as the leaves and branches hushed;

"Alice"

I fell to my knees as sorrow wrapped me in it's merciless wrath.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Pressure!!

This post is way overdue.
Post is based on a true story.
Names shall not be revealed.

-------------------------------------

Pressure

I jerked up from bed.
Relieved it was just a dream, I slouched and rested my arms on my knees.
For the third time this week, I find myself drenched in cold sweat.

It all dates back to that dreadful day.
They call that place Top Hill.
I call it the Devil's Lair.

Till this day, I still wonder how I let Daryl and Heng Zoe manipulate me against my will to participate in their little game of 'Hell on Earth'.
They promised me a day of bonding with mother nature.
They were only half right. (You'll get this later)
I have yet to learn that promises turn into stories, stories into legends and legends into myths.

I reluctantly agreed to go on their hiking expedition at Top Hill.
We arranged to meet at a designated coffee shop for a little breakfast before our hike.
Thinking back, I recall Daryl and Zoe stuffing me silly with sticky glutinous rice and some milky chocolate drink.
I thought it must have been customary to fuel up before the hike.

After some meaningless chit chat, we adjourned to Top Hill for our dose of Mother Nature.
Daryl who played leader in our little escapade guided us through thick greens and wet soil.
I soon discovered that I wasn't a nature boy.
It amazes me how some people have grown to love getting their ankles dipped in muddy terrain, getting pierced in the arm by wild thorns or having bugs crawling on their bare skin.

Twenty minutes into the hike and I started to feel a little queezy on the inside.
Twenty five minutes later and Daryl announces that we were officially lost.
Thirty five minutes into the hike and my face was pale and my knees were turning into jello.

I have been through all sorts of situations in my life but none more physically and emotionally trying as this.
Reminisce of that incident still sends shivers down my spine.
The feeling is somewhat similar to being held against your will in a God forsaken wilderness while men clad in skinny jeans incessantly blares malay rock ballads into your ears.

I was feeling all of that in my rear end.
While Daryl and Zoe were having the time of their life trekking in front of me, I paced slowly behind, careful to not aggravate any sudden bowel movements.
I knew it was only a matter of time before I succumbed to pressure.

I stealthily alienated myself from the group to a secluded part of the forest.
I relieved myself of clothing and let nature have its way with me.
I had hoped that Daryl and Zoe would not notice my absence but I was dead wrong.
They started shouting my name in a PUBLICLY ACCESSIBLE place.
I sighed at my misfortune.
That was about all I could do.


Before they stumbled on my hideaway spot, I revealed my location to warn them of the demonic sights they would encounter should they succeed in locating me.
They were not hindered by such warnings and offered assistance in the form of dry leaves and Zoe's spare T'shirt.

I screamed with panic for them to keep their distance.
I somehow knew they would come armed with digital cameras should they find me.

"Get AWAY from me!! I am fine and can find my own stuff to clean myself!! JUST KEEP AWAY!!!"

By this time, I was almost done with the exorcism ritual and just had to keep them at bay.
They were somehow unconvinced that I was fully capable of cleaning up after my own acts and insisted they bring some leaves and a tshirt.

"GET AWAY GUYS!!! I MEAN IT!! I CAN CLEAN MYSELF!! LEAVE ME ALONNEEEE!!!"

I don't know why, but they found it very amusing to have a friend begging for his innocence to be left protected.
At least it bought me time to clean up and get dressed.

I walked out to the trail a new man.
It felt like all the hurt, pain and shame had been stripped away.
I walked into Daryl, Zoe and their inquisitive eyes.
They were eager to know how I managed to clean myself after such an incident.

Zoe curiously scanned me from head to toe and asked me a question that would forever tarnish my image.

"Sak Ting, Weren't you wearing socks before this?"

-------------------------------------------------------

Its a crappy post.
I know.
But I'm fresh out of ideas, heard of this story recently and I suck.
Hopefully I don't suck as much for the next post.

Monday, March 30, 2009

The accident

With much joy, i am introducing two new writers to our little group.
They are,

James Low and Crystal Cha

Welcome to the losers circle.

There is a common blog moderated by Jean, so do refer to that blog for err, other stuff.

Click here for the common blog

----------------------------------------

I understand this write in can come across as cheesy, corny and predictable,
but this is my interpretation of a woman's point of view.
I live with 2 of them, so I hope I get it right.

----------------------------------------

The Accident

My blood shot eyes stared across the room.
He sat in the corner.
Quiet and reserved, he gazed out the window like little puppies do when expecting their masters arrival.

I called out his name softly.
He didn't budge.
I called him three more times but he was too obsessed with sticking his face to the window.
I was beginning to think that there were little fairies sprinkling magic dust on the lawn to turn grass into exotic dancers.

"ROBERT!!" I yelled.

He nonchalantly turned his gaze from the window to me.
That little creep!! He leaves me to be a walking elephant for the coming nine months and he acts like I'm the deranged lunatic.
I threw the pregnancy sticks at him and wished it hit him in his face rather than to fall three feet from him.

"What are we going to do now?" The words poured out in accordance with my tears.

"I told you, we have options that we can consider but..

"I am NOT aborting this baby!!"

"Think this through. We still have our whole lives ahead of us. Don't blow it all away coz of this little accident."

"This little 'accident' is my baby. I need to know where you stand on this. Are you in this with me or not?"

The silence that followed was deafening.
We exchanged stares for what seemed like eternity.
The last sound i remembered was an intrusion of noise from the bell chimes of the paper boy.
He bowed his head and solemnly fixed his eyes on his folded arms.
I knew what that meant.

With courage and poise, I walked out that door.
He didn't even try to stop me.
I made sure I had my back against him as i walked out.
I didn't want him to see the tears that streamed down my cheeks.

Three months flew by and I managed well if not better without a whiny pathetic male in my life.
I had the support of my parents and friends and I was going to raise this baby right.

If it is going to be a girl, I would teach her how the male species are from the devil and their only reason for existence was for hard manual labor and reproductive purposes.
If it is going to be a boy, I could dump him off a river to spare other girls the misery that I am forced to face.
Or i could teach him that girls are meant to be treated with respect and dignity and not objects for his sexual desire.

I had a hard time coping with the biological changes.
Somehow the thought of a living human inside of me conjured an image of a bloated cow.
It did help that I had a job and friday nights out with my friends.
Those were the times i could take my head off things and just let loose for a while.

There was this friday where my friends suggested that we hang out in a bar down avenue street.
The place was classy.
They had performances lined up for the whole night.
Mainly jazz bands, but there was a magic show that really stood out among the rest.

As usual, our little group got engrossed in some insignificant chatter on some Hollywood celebrity.
I loved these moments cause i could just space and let their inconsequential murmurs fade into background noise.

I was abruptly shaken from my daze when i heard 'Unchained Melody' being played.
After all it is my favorite song.
Instinctively I looked up stage and saw Robert on the piano.
He looked different.
He was clad in a white suit and black leather shoes.
His long brown hair trimmed and neatly combed in a sleek fashion.
I always told him that this is how a man should look like.

Although he played the song beautifully, his singing left much to be desired.
He ended the piece and took the stage with a microphone in hand.
He started off with one word.

"Julie."

I shot a glance at my friends.
They saw it coming and was his comrades in this little stunt he was going to pull.

"I know it's been a long time Julie, but i just want you to know that I have not gone a day without thinking of you."

Seriously, that is like the most cliched line on earth.

"I know you think that I'm crazy"

I swear, he is a mind reader.

"But I am a transformed man now. I realize how foolish I was to let you go. I have a stable job, a nice car and I bought a new house for us. For you, for me and for the baby."

He really did change.

"I made all those changes for you. I am owning up for my actions and I am going to take responsibility.
I vow to treat you the way you deserve to be treated.
To treasure every second I have with you.
To be at your side when you need me.
And to be the father of our child."

He was never really good with words and he still isn't.
But I was touched by his sincerity.

"I understand our little accident may have been rough for us, but that should not be deny you to this beautiful rite."

He got down on one knee and pulled out a little square box.

"Julie, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. To hold and nurture you till the day my fragile life gives way."

I could see what was coming.

"Will you marry me?"

The bar broke into rounds of applause.
I sat stunned in my seat.
I was overwhelmed by this sudden surge of mixed emotions that I really didn't know what to do.

The constant cheers of urging and support from the crowd was massive.
I picked up my courage and slowly made my way to the stage.
My eyes were tear filled and ready to explode.
I didn't know what to feel at that moment.

I walked up stage and our eyes met for the first time in months.
Our faces would have been closer but my bulging belly kept us at a distance.
The crowd was crazy and chanting "Yes" repetitively.

I could not think straight with all the noise and surging emotions.
I let my trembling lips part ways for a bit as tears began to stroll down my face.
I stuttered as I said,

"Y..." I mumbled.

The crowd cheered on.

I summoned every ounce of sanity still left inside me to finish the job.
I raised my hand up high and swung as hard as I could to slap him right in the face.

"YOU JERK!!" I yelled.

The same deafening silence when I first announced my pregnancy to Robert filled the bar.

"You think you can just walk into my life and act like everything's okay??!!"

I grabbed my handbag and stormed out the bar.
That felt good.
It felt really really good.
I should have done it a long time ago.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Lately, i find the little thrills in life slowly emerging from my mundane everyday routines.

For instance, did you know driving can be a very pleasurable experience?
Just as long as its not my old banged up car.

I even find walking on the road to be a pleasurable experience.
It may come across as absurd atrocity to some but I somehow find it calming.
To have my hollow head allowed to wander in an indefinite limit of dreams and imaginations is truly a satisfying experience.
Either that or its the intoxicating fumes that is getting to me.

But one of the little things that truly lights up my day is coming across a 'killer' line.
Its those kinda lines that really sticks.
There is really something empowering about these 'killer' lines that gives me a kick in life.

I came across one today.

"Never argue with an idiot, coz they will put you down to their level, and beat you with their experience!"

Classic.

In essence, never argue with me.
I may be beaten by your experience :P

Friday, March 13, 2009

I am hoping to hear the entry of more writers joining our humble group of writers.
Well, if all things go well I think each of the existing writers should post their links up?

Anyways, unlike Jean and Lydia who comes up with mega hard titles like "Smile like you mean it" lar, or "Holy Communion" lar I am simply all about simplicity.
This is also an effort to NOT scare away potential writers to join our little thing going on.

This months title is very general. I am sure most people will be pleased unless they are complex corrupted lawyers like Lydia who still uses xanga.
This months title is......

"The Accident"

I also understand that looking at a blog with just words can be rather inhumanely torturing.
But look at it this way, if a picture is worth a thousand words, then read a few entries and you will probably have seen a few pictures already.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Exams and assignments will be the death of me.
Anyways, as promised.

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Smile Like You Mean It

I have yet to discover the true essence of a smile.
What is a smile really?
To me, a smile is a facial distortion as a result of muscle contraction.
In my opinion, its just a physical act.
Sometimes with a degree of emotions involved but none the less, a physical act.

You see, the world or society as we regard it to be, has deemed this physical act as an interpretation of our emotional state.
It is assumed that there is an existing correlation between the contortion of the mouth with a favorable emotion.

Don't believe me?

Websters Revised Unabridged Dictionary defines a 'Smile' as:

"The act of smiling; a peculiar change or brightening of the face, which expresses pleasure, moderate joy, mirth, approbation, or kindness."

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language defines a 'Smile' as:

"A facial expression characterized by an upward curving of the corners of the mouth and indicating pleasure, amusement, or derision."

By this definition, it is presumably safe to say that a smile defines or expresses joy.
We all know that is nothing more than imaginary fables.
Does this make the dictionary wrong?
Absolutely not!
In certain pretenses, a smile usually is an expression of happiness.
However, a smile can also take on a different form to express sarcasm, shrewd intentions and etc.
In all likelihood, a smile probably means that you're happy.
But the connection between a smile and emotions still goes unjustified.

I know what some of you guys are thinking.

"Sociopath!!"
or
"I think he needs help"
or
"Do all losers think this way?"
or
"Cheesecake is definitely overrated"

But before you pelt me with eggs, flour and durian tarts, let me present my point.
I am not denying that a smile is linked to our emotions.
I am trying to say that, it is not always the point.

If you are still reading, you are probably the 16% of readers that has not chosen to curse this blog to eternal damnation and close the web window.

Now back to my point.

Take for instance a scenario that many of you have been put in.
You meet this person for the first time.
Be it at weddings, parties or any other activity, you guys are total strangers who are introduced for the first time.
He or she then proceeds to extend his or her hands to offer a shake.
You reach out and accept that offer.
Now, most of the time the handshake is accompanied by 'smiles' by both sides.
I'm guessing it means to show that both parties are delighted at the new acquaintance.

It may or may not express how you feel, but in today's modern context of living, i say its a physical arc reflex.
Most of the time, you don't think!!
You just smile and shake that strangers hand.
Its how you were brought up, its polite, its manners, its shows sincerity and its just basically the right thing to do.

If you don't believe me, make a conscious effort NOT to smile the next time you are put in that situation.
By my guess, there should be some sort of awkward tension that fills the air after you pulled off that stint. You find some lame excuse to excuse yourself and walk away from the whole incident.

There are other examples.
You see the boss strolling through the halls.
Your eyes meet.
What do you do?
Do you pick your nose?
Do you punch yourself in the eye?
Do you punch your fist in the air and shout "DEATH TO MANKIND!!"
Do you?

NO!!
Unless you are mentally unstable like me.

Of all the actions you could choose to do in that scenario, you chose to smile.
You see, that smile just comes naturally.
Its second nature.
You don't even think it.
It just pounces on your facial muscles causing the corners of your mouth to curve up.
Sometimes you don't even know you're smiling.
Nobody blames you.
Its reflex.

If you are still reading this, you are probably 3% of the people who has lost the will to live and happened to stumble upon this blog.

Now, back to my point.

A true smile is pretty hard to come by these days.
If you ever have the misfortune of bumping into me with a smile.
Its probably just a reflex.
Why?

Its simply because of this.
About 2 months ago a group of people agreed to write stories or documentaries or anything to do with the given title or genre.
Once a month of course.
This months tittle happened to be
"Smile like you mean it"
I had a story all figured out this evening.
The plot, characters and the whole works.

It was supposed to be about this girl who hides behind a facade to act cool and stuff.
She meets this new guy who is a goody two shoes and smiles all the time.
She finds out this guys father is a clown, thinks its all a big joke and mocks him and stuff.
But, she is actually hurting inside because of her sisters mental defect caused by high fever.
They go through a series of events and bla bla bla.
She finds her sister getting more cheerful each time.
She is curious but at the same time getting happier herself.
Finds out that new guy and dad dresses up to cheer up kids at the hospital in their free time.

It would have had a kick ass finishing line.
But that will never happen because before i could save the story on microsoft word,
...
...
...
I KICKED THE POWER SUPPLY BELOW ME!!!

Now tell me, after all that.
Can you genuinely force a jubilant smile for the next coming days?

Saturday, January 31, 2009

Holy Communion

Its been crazy this month.
From an idle lazing sloth, i now find myself coming home at the wee hours of the mornings.
Its a rush, but i got it done.

---

Holy Communion

Its a heart wrenching job to be your identical twin.

Your entrancing persona had people in a deadlock under your captivating enchantment.
It seemed that at will, you could instill delight in anyone under your spell.
I could have sworn that once, you twitched your finger and had a smile plastered on Mrs Adams.
You twitched it again and had her in stitches.
You twitched it yet again and had Mr Adams carry her off the floor.
You really knew the right strings to pull.

When you talk, people are entranced to listen.
When i talk, people tend to shoot me a blood curling stare that spells "Heinous condemned being of the abyssal" all over me.
It did not help that your intelligence made me look like an early stage matter evolving from the primordial ooze.
We look exactly alike and yet in some miraculous ambiguous vision spasm of sort, you were the handsome one!!!

I'm sure you get it by now.
You are far more superior to me in every way.
The good part was, people always got our names right.

I remember the days when we were growing up.
Life was a bliss.
The only things we cared about was finding new inventive ways to sabotage the devils subordinate...Alice, our neighbor.


Then came high school.
Testosterone started to muck us up badly during our teenage years and before we knew it, our former thin scrawny bodies were morphed into a masculine shell.
Our features changed in unison to each other. Physically, we were identical.
However, you were the one catching winks and love letters from dainty wishful girls who squealed at the mention of your name.

Time maliciously whisked us by to the end of our teen years and you were nineteen with astonishing academic qualifications and an array extracurricular achievements.
I was nineteen and astonished at myself for soaring to great heights in the sector of 'High school drop outs'


With all this attention, you still managed to keep grounded to the morality you held on to.
You took the effort to volunteer at the local orphanage every week and devoting your free time to host group studies to help those frail feeble minded.

Sometimes i wonder how it must have been like for you to see me, an exact replica of you, but only a loser.

Sometimes, when i look at the mirror, i see you.
I see all that extraordinary potential merged into a single being.
Why couldn't that be me?
Was my vessel inadequate to house such greatness?
Would it prove too infirm to reflect such awesome and splendor?
Was it because i was delivered 2 minutes before you?


Two years down the line and you were in Harvard, living up to the expectations of the masses.
At the snap of your fingers, you could choose any firm or company to be indulged with your presence.
Best yet, you met the girl of your dreams, Elizabeth.
And me?
I met grandma for lunch.

Your intelligence grew with age.
You began to question the very laws of nature.
Somehow you had this insatiable urge to understand in great depth, the existence of life itself.

For a God fearing man such as myself, i find solace in knowing that a greater being that supersedes any form of imagination exists.
For you, the existence of God was nothing more than a fallacy, myth and excuse to keep social justice in place.
To you, God was also a convenient excuse to answer the unanswerable.
While men simply answered the existence of the universe and mankind with the association with God, you begged to differ.
You were all about the facts and theories when we debated about the great question.
"Does a God really exist?"

You never changed throughout the years.
Further down the road you got married to Elizabeth, still volunteered at the orphanage and still shared your great passion for knowledge.
A man of dignity and compassion no doubt.
Society owes a great debt to you.

I can only imagine what it would be like if you were still around.
It wasn't fair that your bright future was mercilessly robbed from you by an incompetent under aged teen on booze.
Your sudden departure left us with much grief and sorrow.
It also left Elizabeth a widow.

Here i sit, four feet from the pew. A cup in one hand and bread in the other, reminiscing the past.
In this life, i have learned that the reward does not go to those who had much to offer.
It does not go to those with supreme intellect.
Nor does it go to those who are gifted with admirable abilities.
It goes to those who are forgiven.
My only regret is that a foolish imbecile such as myself has failed to impart this simple knowledge with you.