Dollars and Cents

So I'm supposed to sell overpriced movie tickets to my friends or I'd be getting differentiated subsidies.
So I'm supposed to do car washes or I'd not be getting the full sum of subsidies.
So I'm supposed to sell silly notebooks that I've never even seen to my friends or I won't be getting ANY subsidies.

Whatever happened to COMMUNITY SERVICE? Whatver happened to DO IT FOR THE KIDS? Whatever happened to OFFER SOME HELP?

If I'd known that the only major contribution that I'd make in Cambodia would be that the toilets they're buiding for US can later on be used for the ppl there - and not as if they'd need it, I wouldn't have signed up in the 1st place.

Oh, and in case i forgot, I can't pull out, since they've already made us pay $350 downpayment just so that scums like me can't do wilful stuff as such and screw up the whole system? A system whereby its cause is lost in its efforts to maintain the system - whatever that is.

I'm seriously turned off by all these covert threats and overemphasis on the money issues. So does that mean that if i have no friends - to beg for money covertly by selling them stuff that they've never seen - and hence, no money, I don't deserve to be in the team?

I'm a man. Men. Men. Men. Just do as I'm told. Don't question the authorities for they've a tough job to do.

And since when have I degenerated to whiny-bitch status?

Random thoughts

The conscience is that overcast shadow when life is all in a days' work. At dawn, it creeps in silently, weak but significant and growing. By midday, it is at its strongest - but also smallest. By and by in the late afternoon, it blurs in form and stretches its shape. Basking in its fullest glory, it shines in the early evening before slipping away into dusk - not disappearing but incognito, with the occasional flashes of brilliance.

I try to be responsible, but at the end of the day I'm just being irresponsible to myself.

Venus has left the building? I hoped, and I prayed that the day for me to say this doesn't arrive, but I guess it's just the inevitable. They don't say that the gods work in fucking mysterious ways for no fucking reason. I don't know when or whether she's coming back, or just temple hopping, or simply gone for good.

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm fucked in the mind too.

The well-wishers came and went, late and furiously. Not that I'm complaining or anything, but heartfelt thanks to all,

hats,
mich,
mich,
fiona,
pok,
mike,
iris,
jo,
jan,
xw,
jaclyn,
terr,
pangy,
jh,
crystal,
km,
ding,
shujuan,
ah chai,
jx,

and i'm sure many more that i've missed out i'm sure. All should b forgiven, since i'm gettin old rite?

It has been a great day, and growing old never felt less scary with knowledge of ppl doin the dirty with u. Isn't it great comfort to know that because somebody got laid, that's why u have your birthday? At least somebody got lucky, and there u r!

24.

What's in a number?

I just found out 3 other people in hall share the same birthday as me today, so am I suppose to feel sad that I'm not one of those celebrating? I guess it's an energy thing. I'm just not feeling that sense of 'youthful' vigour anymore, plus it's really not all that fun, the knowledge of youth slipping through your fingers and not a thing u can do about it.

A few msn wishes, cai sinseh called, and I suppose that's good enough for me.

Well at the stroke of midnight, I just finished rewiring the lousy computer (to no avail - the typing speed limit scrolling problem still persist. GDMFS), logged on to msn, distributed IHG t-shirts, met and talked to 'big foot' on my floor(thus named for the sense of elusiveness he share with the myth), and am gonna walk around hall posting up some news updates that few will read in a while.

And for the whole day i'm tasting weird and feelin queasy, presumably cos of this ultra deep and big ulcer at the walls of my mouth.

So is it any wonder that I'm not in an exceptionally exhilerating mood right now? Just here, blogging - and struggling with a really obstinate keyboard.

This definitely would classify as one of the weirdest birthday ever!

I suppose the real question of it all here is:
"When u stop running away from it, does age really catches up with u?"

"I don't need the birds and the bees,
Nor the stars above the trees
Just the scent of you and me
gently, fleeting in the breeze"

Somewhere somehow this phrase came out in my mind; all I wanted was to write about my favourite part in the Lewis Carroll classic. I think this is the best part of the book, and justifies and contrasts very nicely the mayhem and nonsense that fills the bulk of that silly tale. I love it - the beautiful simplicities of life.

From Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

...So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

----------

But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, til she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:-

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself:- once again, the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers-she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head, to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes-and still as she listened, or seemed to lisren, the whole place around her became alive with the strange creatures of her little sister's dream.

The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by - the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool - she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution-once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it - once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sob of the miserable Mock Turtle.

So she sat on with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality - the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds - the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy - and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm yard - while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs.

Lastly she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the aftertime, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep. through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

Humans are bastards.

Yea I'm back and yea I'm still alive. In retrospect, that would have been an almost embaressing and downright silly post.

BUT had something really happened, I'd have wished I'd wrote something like dat earlier.

And that's why now that i'm back, I'm having the kind of 'rather-be-caught-dead-than-to-face-reading-the-same-ramblings-again' kind of feeling.

So I'm a bastard. But then again, so is everyone else!

*****

Oh, and I met this 23yr old malaysian woman on the bus back home today. She's workin in Sg and earns a measly $475 a month - of which $380 goes to rent. And I'm still the prodigal son studying. I love road trips for the kinds of people that you meet.

A moment's grace

Oh, and btw, it's raining heavily now and I'm getting kind of paranoid - with all the calamities and deaths looming to greet the new year.

So should I freeze to death @ genting or die in some upcoming landslide, I love you all -

Pa, ma, sis, Terr, Pok, Pangy, Joker, JL, Ding, Mike, WY, David, Joyce, Estee, JX, Jan, XW, Oneroll, Weili, YY, Jit, HS, WZ, Nadj (and I'd still spell it this way to my death), Black mama, Serendipity, Maomao, Joanne, Jess, (I still don't know your last name and you don't know my blog but I love you anyway), Hats, Mich, Mel, Ah Chai, Jo and u too Iris :). Anybody I missed out but you know who you are, feel free to engrave it on my tomb. Really. I'm quite bad at names really, and the cold is really freezing up my brain. Just because of my inability to externalise your name doesn't mean I have not internalised your self.

Oh and if something really happens, I can now say that I loved X til the day I died. Haha. If I'd died 5 yr later I most probably wouldn't have said the same thing.

Oh, and to the babe in my psych class with that super cool lime green ipod and velvety looking purplish maroon sweater and billabong/quicksilver/mambo bag, you are gorgeous. Rich, neither skinny nor fat and poised, I'm sorry (both to you and myself) for snubbing you throughout last sem cos you are really - in my opinion - the most perfect looking female to grace my eyes on this planet, and I couldn't bear talking to you 'cos every interaction with you would just give me an inferiority complex. Because I think you really look mightily fine. ...And if I'm still alive I'd still be doin the same. :P Cos such heavenly bodies are not meant for mere mortals the likes of me. And ultimately because of my own taboos, you'd always remain nothing more than a pretty face. A very very pretty face.

And that's it. My parting words. The bulk of it dedicated to some stranger that I don't know, and what a whole lot of love to spread! But that's just me. See you all in 3 days' time or anytime - should you think about me.

Oh and spread the word should it happen, please: if I'm not taking your calls or answering, it's not because I don't care about you. It's because I'm dead.

Corrinne May. Not corine, corrine, corinne, or however you spell it.

To all you losers out there who politely declined my invitations (some pleas) to come enjoy that evening of musical magic, too bad. She was grEIGHT last night. Not NY Eve definitely, cos there were way too many banglahs and uncouth uncultured Sg trying to find their bandwagon - yesterday was a night for the fans.

JX maintains that she sings better 'live', but I think she sings just as well both studio and on set. Outdoor acoustics of the big durian left much to be desired for though, despite the huge amount of taxpayers' money it has amassed to bring in supposedly 'world-class' facilities. Kinda like the 'world-class' standards used to describe aNUS huh. :P I mean I don't demand much, but to have your outdoor amps/speakers go dumb - of all days - on NYeve (because of the rain?) just don't quite cut it.

But anyway, back to May. I like the way she shrewdly rhymes her words and yet be so lyrical about the songs she sings. Maybe it's because you're singing your own songs, but her melodies are really heartfelt and soulful. A girl told me she cried to it. I know I've been touched by it. So much so that I've even bought the album - even when I could listen to everything on it online. Though a tad too Hillsongs of praise for my liking, but so what? It's about faith - her faith and I respect that; just as long as she don't get all preachy.

And to think it would take a member of the elderly to teach us how to enjoy ourselves. At her last song, he burst into the scene, and started dancing right smack in front of Ms C while she played and sang along to some new and upcoming material. Throughout the 3 minutes or so, he was jigglin', groovin', freestylin' to it, with style that could put the avg hardcore mambo engine/science student to shame.

It was the only one thing that made me smile genuinely in a long while, really. On a night when I was still readjusting to my solitude, he became that one spark that ignited a glimer of glee, totally lost to the music and loving the attention he was receiving.

Music moves people, but I think her music moves hearts.

The clock ticks and so the numbers change. So what? But in retrospection and rememberance, here's the result of my BEST buy of 2004:

Shoes/Sandles - $1 classy brown from Clementi central
Berms/Pants - $45 stripped jeans from Springfield
Shirt - $12.50 retro lycra green slim fit top from Marina Sq (supposedly POA minus the label according to the salesperson - but who cares)
Bag/Accesorie - $1-2 Ethnic wristbands Thailand

Oh and I forgot to mention some of the worthy mentionables...

1) Retro funk long sleeves Ben Sherman Topshop $36 (retail: $126!!!)
2) Are-those-boxers board SHORTS Topman Topshop $26
3) 'Aqua' Mat-asian top Queensway Shopping Centre $10 (!!!)
4) 'What About All The Good Things Hitler Did' Far East Plaza $10
5) Back-to-school-and-army Green sling pouch Beach Road Army Market $5

Who says great style comes at a great price?