Coffee and Cigarettes. Black and White. Closet rebel and bad boy funk.

It's the classic good vs evil thing with an old twist - a case on which is the lesser evils in this case. I wouldn't say I understood completely what the whole film was about, nor what the motives were, nor even the myriad of actors and actresses that came and went like (to quote) "a dream at Indy 500 speed". I can't really say it's a feel good movie either, 'cos you really don't know what to feel at the end of it all.

But somehow that minimalistic indie film feel, that multiple hues of grey manages to strike a chord - the one that resonates within the inner consciousness in obscurity, seldom played due to the hustles of life and forgotten. Poignant, sublime and unpolished, the show doesn't really convey and meaning or story, but isn't that how we'd live our lives at some points of our lives? The only story that lives on begins and ends with the breathe that we take.

Would it be a coffee or cigarettes day today, I wonder. One of strong aroma and flavour, tinged with bittersweet splendour leaving me craving for more; or one of vice and toxins, seeking enjoyment in perdition but with guilty pleasures?

If life were coffee and cigarettes, I'd be that grey splotch on the table. Undeniably stained, but is it ash or caffeine, or something mixed in between?

Well talk about support or apple polishing! Whatever you might call it. The Prime Minister's Speech Rally yesterday was covered by SEVEN - yes, that's ALL local stations at the same time. That's i, u, 5, 8, cna, central, even suria! 'u' and 'i' for 'unbashful ingratiation', 'central', '5' and '8' for 'centralised-5-finger-grip-on-the-c=8' - that's pictograph for the uninitiated, go figure. CNA might very well be CBA, for 'carry balls association' and well, suria's just... the sun (think 'you are my sunshine, my only sunshine...'). Counting TV mobile as a separate channel would make that number eight. If that's not propaganda and blatant media support for the new cabinet, then I dunno what is.

In another words, if you had no cable, what you're left with is R-T-M 1 and 2. With the occasional 3 and the indon channels if you are lucky. Or you're just better off having an early night, if you're the politically indifferent.

Me? I'm just watching it for the translation. Hey, I'm a studious student ok!

Disclaimer: If this is by any means misquoted, maligned, or misinterpreted in any way that's PAPa bashing, it is by no means intended and purely coincidental, and deeply regretted. The author wishes to be in no way related to any underground anarchic movements in anyway (save for the few occasions when I eat/drink on the mass-rapid). Thank you. You may go on back to your surfing and thereafter blocking of porn sites now, internal security.

The case of the missing dead dog in the night time.
The dead dog case missing at night. Or something.
The case of the dog gone in the night.
The dog in the night time gone dead.

Sometimes, the simpler something is, the harder it is to get it right.

THE CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DEAD DOG IN THE NIGHT TIME. And I'm still getting it wrong, even though I've long finished the book. And it's Asperger's, NOT autism, which everyone's claiming the condition to be. Get your DSM-IV right!

I'm overwhelmed by a great sense of accomplishment.

Dragged my sorry ass down to Sim Lim late one afternoon today, armed with the barest minimal arsenal with regards to computer knowledge, trodded ALONE, cash-strapped, up and down the building unscathed and emerging victorious with a $750 semi-pieced desktop at hand. But this is only the beginning.

Lugging the boxes home, another challenge awaits me. How to get the damn thing started and working again. Yes, PLUG - but to what? And 'play'? As in the process of fiddling within the depths of the unknown amidst the labyrinth of network cables and connections, plunging head first, back bent into the abyss of the motherboard - well i SUPPOSE u can call that 'play'.

And if you consider all that conquered to be the battle won, it's barely the beachhead captured. Transferring of data, from old to new, installing of drivers, treasure hunting for CD-Keys got me as far in as the castle wall. Before the nasty gatekeeping dragon known as the aNUS-Network is defeated, no one can rest easy.

Caught offguard by my swift and silent assault, the monster soon fell. All that's left to do now is the rebirth of a razed battledfield. Fingers Crossed.

Oh this is just great. So now i'm alcoholic AND tanarexic.

Points revisited

Here's the deal.
Expedition - 8
Hall Choir Head - 8
Hall Band - 6
SMC Stuff - 8
Publications - 6
Uni Choir - 10
Total: 42

So that's what it takes for me to like maintain the nice quaint place that I've gotten this sem for next year.

A breakdown by months will be as follows:

August: Which is like NOW!
September: Mid Term exams
October: Hall Choir/Band shite
November: Exams
December: Carolling

2005
January: Moving back
Febuary: IHG
March: ConcertS & Mid terms
April: Exams
May: Expedition
June: Overseas Tour?

And these are just the markers signifying the end of the various projects. Like WTF rite? I'm SO gonna die. Why can't I simply understand the fact that one head is not meant to be for wearing so many hats at 1 go?

Math

Man love stats.

How old are you?
Where do you live?
When's your birthday?
How're your grades?
Have you ever done it?
When was the last time you got laid?
Who scored the goal?
Who won the match?

One man's conquest is another's spoils of war. Back when we were young and nubile, everybody was dying to break the duck of emotions exchange. Few years on, some try to keep it to a single digit. Some give up trying. Some come up with innovative definations and terms.

A and B had it going for a while, but lost it after that.
"So were they together?"
A says yes, B says no. Both are right.

"Oh I wasn't serious."
"Oh we were only 'dating'."
"Oh we only went out a few times."

Friend. Platonicism. Crush. Fling. Fuck buddy. Rebound. Girlfriend.

So who's who's statistic then? The paradox wouldn't matter if it were really 'just the 2 of us'.

But alas, Man love stats.

I love pussies.
No, I mean the cute furry kind. Err, it still doesn't sound rite. But never mind.

I mean the feline objects that purrs in the day and prowls the night, and really dun mind their furs giving me the runny noses, but why does it like coming into my room so much? It's affecting my open door policy! Just when I was about to bathe, I caught the mom breast feeding underneath my bed!!

I just hope they dun poo or pee inside my room. Pets. I'd never learn how to take care of them when I have trouble taking care of myself.

Hmmn, somehow purring in the day and prowling at night doesn't seem right too.

Duality

The dawn of the new morning breathes new life
over a lifeless soul everyday

The flowers smell the same and the winds
blow the same

But somehow it's different

Today

For today
Is the day of paradigm shifts

Where the sun shines just a bit brighter
or darker

And the trees greener
or leaner

The petals fall

Flowers

Will they suffer in cold winter days
Or blossom and mature in harsh november rains

I'd like to think that it'll be brighter. For you, for me. For everyone. Now, go away. you're blocking my sun. I'd like to bask in it alone for a while. To get used to this heat. And warmth.

A trip's a trip. Well if it was fun, it's fun. Memories do get muddled as we grow old with time, so why bother? I had a great time, and if I ever have the need to narrate it to my children or my children's children, I can always tell them about the beautiful beaches, the emerald green waters and bays, the magnificent 'wats' and wat-nots, half of which the details would be entirely make believe I'm sure. But for now, I suppose "it's fun" would do just fine for me.

A little episode on the trip worth mentionin though. Wat would you do if someone handed you $1000 by mistake? I mean let's not talk about currency differences here, a thousand is a thousand in the mental framework no matter wat. Here i was, charmin the lovely thai lady to change me a hundred in small notes, and the next thing you know, you're a thousand richer!

It's easy to say canned and conditioned "just give it back for fuck's sake!" responses, but when it actually happened to you, the feelin's just different. It's a little more than a cheap thrill (no pun intended), with traces of exhilaration, and at the same time that oxymoronic feeling of guilty pleasure. At this juncture, I might have believed the inherent evils of Man.

However, whatever the feeling, it sure feels damn bloody great to have done the right thing though. To know that you've triumphed amidst the allures of darkness, you've made a difference, and ultimately you KNOW you've made someone unexpectedly totally happy and grateful and epiphanically felt the warmth of this world.

This i know for a fact, that had i kept the money, my personal satisfaction would not be 1/2 as great. In fact, my main concern then would how to spend this dirty loot asap so as not to think about it anymore. The ultimate inherent good under the facade of the inherent bad?

I know for sure that I'd have done differently if I were with different company, but i suppose the rhetorics here would be: "What would I have done if i were ALONE?" To those who'd have made me return it, how 'no-brainer' would the solution to this mini dilemma be? We all know the right and answer and know how to say it, but how much do we really believe in it? Suppose she gave me 1000 spare but i returned 500 instead. Would she have hated me or thanked goodness for at least recuperated 50% of her losses? Inherent believe of goodness in OTHERS or bad?

I thus say true altruism is dead. In fact, it was never really alive in the 1st place. Like all other ideals entailing the ultimate 'truth' like 'true love', 'truly bad', 'truly yours', etc... I suppose these are just some of what makes the 'unexamined life not worth living'.