Chilling Hearth

Dixon I miss you

2012-01-05T23:56:00.002+08:00

Sometimes I miss the old me. The Dixon that was always willing to sacrifice and compromise. The Dixon that was kinder to others and always sensitive to their feelings. The Dixon that was full of energy, ready to love, chatty and ever-cheerful. I know that Dixon once existed for sometimes, just sometimes I see the shadows of him in my memories.

I miss you - Dixon

Part of your imagination

2012-01-02T23:16:00.003+08:00

Previously I was talking to a friend and this concept came to my mind - What if I was just part of your imagination? Well, it goes something like this:

What if all along I was but part of your imagination. One day you wake up and when you try to look for me, you find out that this person does not exist. You sms me but you do not receive a reply. You try calling me but the number is not in use. You call my house number and this person does not live there. You pay a visit to my place but you do not recognise the people living there. You ask our mutual friends and they ask you 'Who is Dixon?'.

If I were but part of your dreams, your imagination and you finally woke up. The dreams and memories seem so vivid yet you can no longer find traces of my existence. What would you do? How would you feel? Life would still go on. Perhaps occasionally you might think 'What a weird dream I had'.

Try putting yourself into such a scenario, perhaps you might treasure your friends more and enjoy your dream before you wake up. Who knows, one day you might really wake up to find yourself having lost them.

The leech

2011-12-24T19:35:00.002+08:00

I thought you knew me and I think you thought you did too. Yet sometimes we what we firmly believe in our minds is grossly misaligned with reality. When will these errors fix themselves I really have no idea. They arose when we least expected and painfully carved themselves into us. With their imprint, with a scar we carry on with life.

Hush little problems, do not awake. For the fragile heart cannot predict the future. Be a little leech, I'll feed you with my blood, as long as you keep it quiet, just between you and me. This is our secret, our promise. The sun will shine, hearty and bright. As he walks laughing in its embrace, I'll hide my leech in the shadows.

I'll walk on, with a great big smile - for as long as it can last.

Hurt, really hurt

2011-10-17T22:26:00.002+08:00

I'm hurt, really hurt. To a certain extent I am speechless or perhaps I still have a last small wish to keep the friendship going and thus I choose to be speechless. It is not my character to keep quiet when I being wronged or when I know I can actually wreck the other person's argument. Neither is it my character to keep mum when facts are presented incorrectly or when I have a burning reason to tell. But this time, I kept mum. I don't know why I did that but I swallowed every insult and insinuation thrown at me.

Frankly I am in awe of myself. I already came out of all that wreck weak and frail and it took a lot out of me to take those blows. Because you are unable to discuss something without losing your temper, I choose to end the discussion hoping you will feel better. I chose not to talk about these things yet you dug them out only to wreck my heart again. You blamed me for digging up old shit when I already tried hard to bury them with blood and you asked me to unearth them. Yet whenever we have issues you only choose to run.

Have you ever considered that the reason why these 'old shit' exist is because you persistently refused to face them and clear them? Yet when I break my heart into pieces and use them to try to bury old issues, you start to taunt me by saying there is nothing that we cannot talk about. You claim you want to hear what is bothering me and you want to hold my hand and walk us through. Yet after my hands are dirtied digging it out, you throw my hand aside and get angry for even trying to stretch my filthy hands out.

You left me speechless but it was a choice and a compromise. You delivered a punch to my heart and I chose to pat your hand and ask if your hand hurt. Possibly I was really too filthy or scum-like and you couldn't help but add on two blows with a sledgehammer. Pardon me but my heart never really healed and I can't take more. You always said you would help to heal me but you never did.

You dismissed my passion as bullshit and a parasite that would only bring things down. You rebuke me for picking on you when I'm asking you to step lighter on my heart. To you I am worthless along with all I stand for and I all do yet to me you are worth all the pain, compromise and contribution. Many have told me to wake up and move on with life, a happier life disjoint from yours but I chose to take this path and possibly I asked for this.

Try reading what you said again and hopefully you can feel a fraction of my hurt or perhaps you would regret not putting in another blow.

Heart-shattered

Rays from heaven

2011-06-05T21:33:00.002+08:00

Everybody knows that the beam of a torchlight in the day is almost undetectable but in the darkest roads it lights up your path more than you can imagine.

To me, you are like a ray of light from the heavens. During the happy times, you give me an extra fuzzy warm feeling that reminds me that you are there alongside all the other sources of light. You seem to smile as I frolick and bask in the joy and bliss of life. Yet during my darkest times you are the only thing I can see and depend on. You remind me that I am never alone and that you will light my path to carry me through. You are a gift. A present I can never be willing to let go of.

And with you, I know I have the strength to carry on. Thank you!

Asian parents

2011-05-19T20:01:00.002+08:00

I've come to realise that asian parents, or at least mine, are often more adept at wielding the stick than the carrot. Whenever anything happens, more often than not they desperately need a target for blaming. They are unable to accept that certain misfortunes in life occur out of bad luck. To them, every bad thing must have a cause and that cause must be you.

When I was told that I should undergo an operation, the first thing I was afraid of was not of the operation itself but rather of the admonishment i risked hearing upon breaking the news to my parents. When I told them of the medical problem I had and that I wanted to visit a doctor, the first thing they said was "Must be you did ..... that's why like this". (Pardon me that I do not reveal what medical problem it is)

This is the exact reason why I take up insurance on my own accord despite my limited financial resources. The last thing I want to deal with if I were to come down with cancer one day is that "Your treatment very expensive" or "Must be you did something/ never do something that's why get cancer". Meanwhile, I can only feel myself drifting away from them.

Second chances in life

2011-04-07T18:47:00.001+08:00

Life doesn't always give second chances and that is why I really treasure this one bestowed. :)

Miserable

2011-03-18T21:49:00.003+08:00

I'm feeling miserable, really miserable.

I remember the times when we talked about how we would press on till we were both old. How you would cut apples for me if I were bed-ridden. Yet now all are but dreams of yesterday. Maybe you feel relieved that everything is over but I feel nothing more than miserable.

The ostrich and the tumour

2011-03-15T19:06:00.002+08:00

Everybody knows what ostriches are like. They hide their heads in the ground when faced with impending danger. Often humans also adopt this ostrich attitude when dealing with matters. They prefer to hide from the problem and hope that it goes away with time. Little do they realise that the problems still exist and will only snowball with time.

Maybe another analogy works better. Tumours are malignant growths in the body and they pretty much hurt if you aren't really careful with them. Applying the same situation here, once tumours grow, the best option is to have them removed. No one denies that this process hurts but by avoiding this altogether, the tumour will only grow till one day it devours you.

P.S. Time isn't going to solve anything, it'll only let my heart die out. I hope I still can cry for you for when I can no longer cry for you, everything is over and that is when my heart is fully dead.

Heart-dying-in-process

有一天你会走

2011-02-22T20:36:00.002+08:00

如果你不想走, 就让大家陪你一起努力, 因为你永远不会是我们的负累.

但若你真的累了, 也不想走下去了, 我们也会学习忍痛放手.

为你自己而活吧!

你的责任我们会接手, 你的爱意我们会传达.

过去因你而美好, 而在没有你的未来我们会互相扶持地走下去.

因为我知道你会要我们幸福, 而我们也会为了你去寻找这份幸福.

"如果说你要走, 我不会留..."

曾经的爱

2011-01-17T16:47:00.003+08:00

曾经,

当你想起我的爱, 你的脸会笑.

但现在你却说,同样的那份爱让你很痛苦.

你叫我放手, 因为你需要离开.

你说要分手, 因为你需要翱翔.

但是有样东西你没说而我却知道.

你去寻找了.

寻找一份我不能给的爱.

Habitual Love

2011-01-07T22:44:00.002+08:00

When loving someone becomes a habit and yet you two are no longer together.

When you dream that you two are still together yet wake up knowing its all in the past.

When you instinctively reach for your handphone and type a caring sms yet slowly you delete it away.

What do you do?

What is with all the spam.... and HAPPY NY

2010-12-31T17:19:00.002+08:00

I have no idea why there is so much spam on my cbox.... Really tempts me to close it down.

Anyway, the new year is coming soon. Personally I dun believe in new year resolutions cos if you really want to do something you dun need to choose new year's eve to remind yourself of it...

Lastly, NUS bidding system.... I HATE YOU!!!!!!

Hands

2010-12-29T19:17:00.001+08:00

The hands that once nourished are no more,

The same hands have ploughed it bloody and gore.

Now I hope for a pair of healing hands,

To rid my heart of the scarred bands.

-Dixon

The Sun and the Planets

2010-12-24T12:39:00.001+08:00

Copernicus told us that the planets revolve around the sun but when the sun disappears what will the planets revolve around? Will they continue spinning?

爱犹在, 心已死

Life's Journey

2010-11-30T22:42:00.002+08:00

We didn’t start our journey together,

Our paths just crossed one day.

Looking at that weathered calendar,

Was it June or April or May?

Yet we made a promise to walk down further,

For as long as our promise would last.

Even if the road ahead is cluttered,

Or bellowing with torrents of dust.

Our promise could be two seconds,

A minute, two months or a year.

It really does not matter,

For we will charge on without fear.

When the day arrives and we grow old,

Our limbs turn weak and our books grow mould.

I will squint and peer holding my reading glasses,

Looking for you, among the masses.

When I get too weak, to walk this path,

Promise me you wouldn’t laugh.

Walk on baby, to the luscious meadow,

I’m just a little tired, let me sleep in your shadow.

Never look back and just keep moving,

Even if you sense that my soul is leaving.

And please my baby, do not shed a tear,

As I whisper goodbye to you my dear.

Now you walk this path, alone once more,

Just like that June or April or May, just like before.

Friendship is a pact

2010-09-13T21:30:00.002+08:00

You enter the room in a smart suit and tie and the other party is already awaiting you. You both make a greeting and sit down at the conference table. Both of you read the terms and conditions of the contract one last time and then you both sign your names on it with an expensive fountain pen. That sounded like a classic business-contract signing ceremony.

Well, friendship is in a way similar. Friendship (and I do not mean acquaintances) comes with its intrinsic terms and conditions. Sometimes, these terms and conditions come in fine print and many fail to notice them. Essentially, when you commit yourself into a 'friendship pact', you are agreeing to abide by these two terms and conditions:

1) You must consider the impact of your actions on the other person's life and emotions.

2) You should strive to make the other person's life better with your presence and not worse.

When you think you can no longer abide by these rules, maybe its time to reconsider the 'friendship pact' and 'strive to make the other person's life better with your absence'.

A whole new beginning

2010-08-01T23:59:00.002+08:00

My special semester at NUS has finally come to an end. Though I've had to face exams, assignments and sometimes mundane lectures, I'm still pretty grateful for the experience. It has allowed me to clear my modules in a more relaxed manner. I'm really grateful to my parents. When it wasn't confirmed whether MOE would reimburse my special term fees, my father told me "Its alright, even if MOE won't pay for it, if you want to do it just go ahead. We'll pay". Though I never once told him how grateful I was for this, I really am. Three modules is a whopping $1800++ and they definitely have no obligation to pay for my education. Though I know they weren't exactly thrilled when I got a B+ and A- for my first two modules, they just nagged a while and let it go. I know they just want the best for me.

Week zero is pretty much a rest week for me because I did not register for the orientation. So in a week's time I'm going to start my lectures proper (provided I get all my modules). I know the future is trying and since Mathematics isn't really the subject I like, the modules are going to be taxing. As a human I will have the tendency to slack and procrastinate but I hope by writing this here, if I ever read my own post again, I can be reminded to work harder. For myself and for my parents who love me.

Courage to Love

2010-07-26T21:28:00.002+08:00

Hey everybody.. been ages since I wrote anything actually worth reading.. HAHAHA.. Well.. been pretty busy with school stuff and slacking so guess I'll give it a shot before school officially starts. So here's a fictional piece of work.

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The bus seemed to take eternity to arrive, the music seemed to take forever to end. Yet none of these mattered for he was sealed in his own timeless state of thinking. The edges of his eyes reddened and as he made a stronger-than-usual blink, tears threatened to embarrass him in public.

As he forcefully made his eyes swallow the tears back, he muttered to himself "It doesn't matter, you'll get used to it, nothing really does matter". Yet, even if he were to get used to heartache, it didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. Every heartache hurt just as bad in all its entirety. All he could do was to get use to the process of hurting and carrying on.

He once thought of stripping himself of the courage to love. For without love there would be no pain. Or at least that was what he thought. It was the easy way out, the best defence he could construct, yet it wasn't an idea he could accept. He knew he had to love, to give and to care for reasons he himself couldn't come up with. He just couldn't stop loving...

So if he couldn't adopt this easiest way out, he could only go for the second-best alternative. Slowly and painfully, he stripped himself of the courage to be loved. If he could remove the hope of being loved, maybe he could alleviate his pain and stop his suffering from expanding.

This was no easy path. To give and not ask to receive. Yet maybe if he managed to slice off this tumour, he might be able to save his entire body. But remember, in emotions there is no anaesthesia.

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Doubt is such a painful knife, it kills my memories

2010-07-18T17:39:00.002+08:00

Where this is light, there will be shadows. Shadows move in ways that differ greatly from how the original person is moving and that is why I will call it 'Doubt'. Doubt is a very powerful yet silent killer. Its intangible and creeps into you waiting to murder the beautiful memories you have of somebody.

I always ask my friends to be more trusting, to believe and as such to be happy. Yet just as my friends are humans, I am too. I also have times when I fall prey to doubt. Doubt breeds from insecurity and insecurity comes from two people. We often hear people complain that others do things that make them have doubts yet doubting is a choice and both parties are responsible for it. For me, I'm having doubts that one of my friendships will last. I'm trying to repair this bridge but apparently its falling apart faster than I can repair it.

Maybe its just the wrong time. Maybe its not as I think. Doubting your doubts are often ways to allay them. Yet often I come to a greater, more convincing doubt. Maybe this bridge wasn't there at all in the first place. When there is nothing at all, there is nothing to repair or to destroy.

I never expect others to put me in the same priority as I do for them. Even when they are number 1 in my ranking, I just hope to be at least 101th in their's. Maybe I should stop dreaming.

Or maybe I'm just writing crap here...

My understanding of EMO-ing

2010-07-16T12:08:00.003+08:00

Our generation (or the multiple eras after mine) have long been branded as angsty, melancholic or to use a more modern term - EMO. I do have my fair share of friends who go into periods of EMO-ing and I thought I would share my perspective of this particular feeling we sometimes get.

First these are two stands I want to make:

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1) I DO NOT think emo-ing is bad. To me emo-ing serves two purposes. The first is for you to reflect and through this reflection you can grow. Too often we look around us for ways to achieve growth but many forget that the greatest source of growth lies within us. Instead of foraging in the bags of others for growth, we should just look into our own backpack. Often this reflection will reveal many things you neglected before.

The second purpose for emo-ing is to remind you that you are still human. In this competitive society where weakness is abhorred and scorned, everybody wants to put up a brave front. They train themselves to never reveal their real emotions easily. Slowly, you lose the very essence of being human. Nothing is more fearful than the hardening of the heart. Humans are not super-humans. They have their strengths and their weaknesses and emo-ing reminds you that you are still fragile at times like a human and not unfeeling like a computer.

2) I DO NOT support excessive emo-ing. Other than the extreme cases of kissing your wrist with blades or enjoying the scenery on the beautiful parapet, excessive emo-ing still has its adverse effects on the average person. Emo-ing is like running around in a pond filled with piranhas. When you run around quickly you grow in terms of agility and speed but when you stay there too long, you can never gurantee that you won't be bitten by those flesh-eating monsters. Prolonged emo-ing transforms into a quicksand. Once you start sinking into it, it is extremely difficult for you to escape with external help.

After all these "DO NOT"s, here is a piece of advice I have which is purely personal opinion. Don't take it as your bible.

If your friend is emo-ing:

If you do not have the time to counsel your friend who is emo-ing or you do not know how to do it, DON'T even start. All you end up doing is say useless things like "cheer up" or "weekends are coming, you'll have a great time". These are but shallow talk skimming the surface of the water like the pebbles your throw to make ripples.

If you are emo-ing:

Don't come looking for me unless I know you well. HAHAHAA.. I wouldn't want to be the next SOS hotline.. I still need to consider the feelings of my phone bill and phone battery. Okok.. just joking. Tip here: Take a deep breath, close your eyes, tell yourself everything will get better and (optional) take a nap. Seems stupid? Well, self-delusion or self-hypnotism is rather useful. Anorexic girls who look in the mirror every day and say to themselves "I am beautiful like this, I do not need to slim down" do end up recovering better. Actually I don't mind lending a listening ear but I can't promise I can always attend to you at that instant. :)

I was stupid

2010-06-27T23:19:00.002+08:00

I was daydreaming and suddenly I thought of some stupid misconceptions I used to have to prove to be rather hilarious now. So here's a slice of "I Was Stupid". (though I know some meanies out there will say I'm still stupid)

1) I used to think that the "Majullah Singapura" crest (representative of a major rank) was part of every uniform. That was until I saw someone with two of it...

2) I used to think that ear-piercing using a gun meant you stand some distance away with a marking drawn on the ear lobe and someone fires a sharp earring from a gun some distance away. That's why I was always amazed at how accurate the person would have to be...

3) When people said they had to draw a few vials of blood, I always wondered how the transition of vials would be like. Wouldn't blood start spraying all over once you remove the first full vial and before you slot in the second empty one?

Well, it isn't something to be ashamed of to be stupid, what is important is that you learn! Just for laughs here..

Looking Forward to Emptiness

2010-06-11T23:55:00.002+08:00

Weekends are great! That's what most of us can agree on. At least weekends are better than weekdays. During the weekdays we look forward to the weekends when we do not need to work/study. Yet when the weekend arrives, I feel so empty. Hopefully I can fill this emptiness soon...

Dreams Dreams

2010-06-10T22:43:00.000+08:00

Recently I have been dreaming a lot... Not the day-dreaming but the real night-time sleep dream. I really can't remember what they are but I just know I am almost dreaming every night which makes me tired when I wake up in the morning. How I wish I have dreamless sleep.

Mundane is a choice

2010-06-04T22:18:00.000+08:00

Recently my life is slowly degenerated into a mundane one. Yet it suddenly occurred to me that a mundane life is a choice. It is up to the individual to set short term goals so that their life is spiced up. So chew on that!

SAFety

2010-05-29T23:05:00.002+08:00

Recently read the news of the NSF PTE and regular 1SG who got shot at Thailand. I feel so sorry for the NSF... Its part of the regular's career to be exposed to these risks so there is nothing to say but for the NSF it is just part of his 2 years.. And MINDEF even delayed publishing this... Strange that no one bothered to ask questions like "Why wasn't the area recceed beforehand?". Hopefully the PTE gets monetary compensation for the trauma of his parents and himself. To me, you can be unreasonable to NSFs, scold them, overload them but make sure they are SAFE. Their parents raised them for so many years not to die or get injured during NS. To all my NSF friends, STAY SAFE!

Happy Mother's Day

2010-05-09T21:32:00.002+08:00

I'm not going to rant about how I celebrated Mother's Day cos that is purely my private business. I just want to take this chance to wish all the mothers of my friends a Happy Mother's Day! Thanks for giving birth to such wonderful friends that make my life so much better!

MIA? Nah.. just lazy

2010-04-17T21:42:00.002+08:00

Heya everyone.. Its been a long time since I blogged and dun worry, I didn't fall into some ditch and die. Afterall, you haven't seen my name on the papers. Well, recently I've been busy with tuition, my juniors' competition, their camp and relief teaching. Actually, it's not really very busy.. Haha..

I just love the gym camp I attended. Though it was a much more toned down version compared to the past when it was flooded with violence. I practically know only less than half the juniors and most probably in a few years they will all no longer know me. Luckily there are still the sec 4's and above like yixiang who know me and one pesky sec 3 hou zheng.. Haha..

Looking at my juniors jump around really makes me feel that I'm old. I no longer have the guts and strength to try daring stunts and I'm now pretty much limited to the safer somersaults and twists. Though this isn't exactly a feeling I will like to relish, I'm still glad my juniors are doing well. Sometimes going back isn't so much taking the chance to jump on the trampoline or chit chat with my juniors. It's more of seeing myself in the image of my juniors. The stunts they do, the childish things they laugh at, the trivial matters they are preoccupied over or the small things they complain about. No matter how much others think that these are "Stupid", I don't think so. Afterall, I've been through this too. I was once that childish, impulsive and violent Dixon and just as I've grown, I believe my juniors will also bloom with time into young adults that far surpass me. For now, there is no point in forcing them to grow for they will only end up missing a precious piece of memory in their life.

We must never be afraid that our juniors surpass our achievements. If we do, the generations to come will only deteriorate and never improve. That's why I always try to give them advice if they encounter problems. I want them to fly higher than I have and make my achievements seem miniscule. So reach for the skies my juniors and I will always be proud of you!

Things you would want to do or say to your other half

2010-03-21T01:09:00.002+08:00

Being bored out of my wits, I've come up with some romantic ideas of what you would want to do or say to your other half. They could be present ideas, action ideas or words ideas. However, I've combined the actions and words cos they come together. Enjoy and give me your comments!

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PRESENTS - Everyone loves a surprise now and then

1) Stars of love to shine over us: A bottle of hand-folded stars with the number of stars in it representing the number of days/weeks/months/years (depending on how long, find a suitable and do-able number) that you two have been together. Use different colours and write a love message on each strip of paper before folding it into a star. (Yes, the words are on the inside) The message to accompany the gift should be "You know I love you so much and if there are times when I make you angry, open up a star and be reassured of how much I love you."

2) Stitches of love to warm our hearts: Depending on which one you are more familiar with, you could make a cross-stitch or do a sweater. The message to accompany it should be "With every stitch I remind myself how much more I love you compared to the previous stitch"

3) Food of love to fill your stomach: Whip up something for your other half. Depending on what the other person likes (sweet stuff, pastries, chinese food, italian food, etc), cook a dish for the person. The key to this is the effort and not the taste though to be on the safe side, consult a friend who knows how to cook.

ACTION & WORDS - Express yourself or risk eternal silence

1) Look at your partner intently and say "Now, I'm going to take a picture of you so that it will be imprinted on my heart forever". Wink hard and continue with "Did you just see me flash the camera shutter?"

2) "You are not just the biggest chapter in my life, you are the binding holding me together."

3) Look at your partner and when he/she asks what are you looking at, the answer is "I just can't get sick of looking at you"

4) "Sometimes I just get so jealous of your bed because I can't stand anything else holding you"

5) "You made me forget what LOVE means, because my only answer now is YOU"

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Biggest party of my life

2010-03-10T01:21:00.004+08:00

Heyaz.. been a long long time since I wrote a story and finally here is something. Its purely fictional but I do like some parts of it.

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From the day we were born, we were destined to die. This is not pessimism; this is a fact of life. Just as the gift of life accords all of us the same status, Death is also the great equalizer. The only difference is that some of us finish our cycle earlier and some just get to enjoy the process a little longer.

I would consider myself a man of the new age, someone from the 21^st century. I come from the generation of computers, the internet, space shuttles and air-conditioning. Yes, that darned cooling device we all love. On top of that, I get to die from a modern day disease – cancer, what a fashion statement. Liver cancer, stage 4, terminal. I don’t drink so it’s probably not the reason my liver becomes a rock but with all the radicals, pollution and whatnot, it really isn’t that much of a surprise I am afflicted with it.

Well, when we talk about stage 4, chemotherapy doesn’t really does more than make you lose your hair. You would rather spend the money on preparing your funeral than on something that makes you puke and worse still, make you ugly. Put it in another way, not everybody has the chance to prepare for their funeral. Afterall, it isn’t always nice to bother others with having to buy you coffins or wreaths.

So, when I know it’s almost time to change my bed, I withdraw some money from the bank and go for one of the more unorthodox treatments – retail therapy. Girls would scream and shriek like your ancient banshees when you mention the word “SHOPPING”, but I give shopping an entirely new meaning.

Coffins, wreaths and crematorium services are definitely the basics. Afterall, if I didn’t get a plush comfy bed at home, I would want to relinquish that feeling in a coffin. Oh yes, flowers! Flowers are nice. They serve as wonderful decorative purposes and make the place smell all nice and fragrant. I wouldn’t want people to think I forgot to bathe before I took my last nap. Lastly, we can’t leave the coffin lying around forever and to save space, torching it is always the best ending.

I think I forgot to mention that I had a childhood dream that never materialized. I always wanted to host a party be it for my birthday or otherwise. Well, if I couldn’t do it for my birthday, I would still like to have a memorable one for my funeral though I don’t think I will be the one remembering it. Also, I have a secret to confess. Deep down, I’m actually an extremely vain person. I want to look all handsome and I don’t think my pale corpse can do that for me. So what better way to do it than photos! I don’t want black and white serious photos. I want my own montage with colourful photos of me and my friends during the happy times. I never got to have one shown during my birthdays so its time I got my wish fulfilled. Just let me be selfish for once.

What is a party without invites! So I set about making my own custom-made invitation cards bearing my stylish cool signature. I didn’t include the RSVP option because ALL of you are coming and its compulsory with the capital “C”. Just give me some face and turn up for once. I promise there’ll be a wonderful spread with a custom dish for every person depending on what each and every one of you likes to eat. I don’t think I’ll be able to cook them personally when the time comes but rest assured the chef has my recipes and has been well-trained. I will remember who doesn’t eat beef, who dislike prawns and who eats pretty much everything. Hahaha..

Being the rebel I am, I’ll even throw in something better! Traditional funerals require the guests to bring along a red packet with a token sum of money which sometimes exceed just being token. I wouldn’t want my friends to go to such expense so I’m cancelling that. On top of it, I’ll prepare a red packet for everyone to take away. Treat it as my token of appreciation for taking the time to come for my last party. I’ll help to offset your transport fees and if the food isn’t to your liking, you can use the remainder to get a bite at a posh restaurant.

Now that most of the preparations are done, it’s time for me to record my speech. I have to say sorry to each and every one of you for magically disappearing out of your lives for the past 6 months. You know cancer doesn’t give you a nice face colour and I really don’t want to lie to anyone who would ask. The most painful thing is not death itself but seeing someone slowly walk towards it. I don’t even want to look in the mirror for the past 6 months and all the more I wouldn’t want my friends to look at me. If I’ve not done anything nice for them before, at least let me swallow this pain myself. I never want to see you all cry and you better not let your tears smudge my make-up. Some say that the coffin is but a box and to me, it’s my confession box. Hopefully it can allow me to be forgiven for the things I’ve done and for the hurt I’ve given to my best friends.

Looking at the photos I’ve chosen for my montage, I suddenly miss my friends a lot. They were all beautiful chapters in my life and unfortunately it is time for me to end my life-book. I’ve not allowed myself to cry because I know if I can’t even do this, how am I to ask my friends to keep their tears. I’m getting a little tired and I’ll miss the hugs and friendly pecks on the cheek from you all but all I have left to ask is a smile from you. Cheese….

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Gong Xi Fat Cai and a scorching new year

2010-02-16T20:56:00.002+08:00

I'm BACK!!! And I'm sure everyone missed me! Kakaka.. joking joking. Well, my routine trip back to Malaysia for CNY was just like other years with the exception that this year was scorching, torching and a burning flaming purgatory. I think you get the idea of how hot it is. I had to bath like 3-4 times a day and I woke up from the heat at 3am for two nights to bathe.. Well, its not really about the angbao since it wasn't much but more of going back to visit relatives. Ok.. that's all for now. Just letting those who missed me know that I'm back.. Haha.. ultimate egoistic.. And I think all that eating made me fat..

Cuppa Chinese New Year

2010-02-12T14:44:00.002+08:00

I'm really over the moon! Hahahaha.. I received a personalised cup from songhua and zukai and it even has my photo on it along with handwritten words.. Wow.. so happy.. Anyway, CNY is here and as usual I'm going back to Malaysia. Will be back soon with a bigger stomach and hopefully more things to blog about.

Stitches be gone

2010-02-05T22:31:00.001+08:00

Finally.. the stitches are gone!! All of them.. And this time I got a syringe with a metal tube linked to it that I can suck up water, place in the socket behind my last molar and flush out the dirty things. When the dentist did it for me I got such a big shock.. it was like my tooth socket was having diarrhoea.. Ok.. that is yucks.. It will take some time for my mouth to stop aching.. Time time..

Oh yes.. and I've finished one set of peanut cookies and one set of pineapple tarts.. dunno what's next..

I think I have a problem...

2010-02-02T20:36:00.001+08:00

Yup.. the title says it all.. I think I have a problem and I really dun like it.. I can't seem to be able to taste now.. Since my first dental extraction, there is always a strange taste that lingers in my mouth and I can't seem to taste things accurately. I have to ask my family to taste my cooking for me and I'm cooking things that I dunno how they taste.. Jialat liao..

Second Extraction

2010-01-29T15:54:00.003+08:00

Well, today I finally went for my second round of wisdom tooth extraction this time for the top and btm left while removing the stitches for the right ones. This time round was much scarier because the dentist just injected the anaesthesia straight away without even applying the white cream. And barely waiting for the effect to set in, he began the operation. Halfway through the operation for the bottom tooth, I could even feel a sharp pain at the end of my jaw and he had to top up LA. Imagine feeling pain halfway through! But this dentist was much friendlier than the one at AH. That dentist at AH was PURE coldness.. Ok ouch.. it hurts so I have no mood to write too much.. Another time..

Emotional Bank

2010-01-25T22:28:00.002+08:00

Everyone has an emotional bank. When you contribute, plan that special event for someone, do something nice for someone you are withdrawing from it. When someone does something that makes you feel loved you are cashing in on that same account. I think I've depleted mine too fast.. I feel a little emotionally tired

Pang seh Pang seh

2010-01-24T22:42:00.002+08:00

Well, I dunno what got into me that I'm updating this so often. Haha.. Well today is the actual day for my mum's b'day. I got her a mango cake from bengawan solo and pushed away all my appointments to have dinner with her.. But she ended up shopping with my aunt at chinatown and called back to say they having dinner outside. So in the end I ate canned food (the ultra unhealthy type). Fancy getting pang seh'ed by your mum.. But its alright, its her birthday and what matters is that she's happy. She said she liked the earrings I got her. Though they weren't expensive but I thought they looked nice. She turns 49 today (or I shouldn't be saying this) and I think she deserves better from me.. Hopefully she can feel the effort I put in everyday to prepare dinner for her. So she can have nice soup at the end of a day of tiring work. Then my few hours of preparation will be worth the while.

Haha.. yesterday my dad was telling my mum how I was still joking after the extraction and everything was alright.. Luckily he didn't know it was just to put their hearts at ease.. Who could be in the mood to joke and laugh after extracting two wisdom teeth and when the pain got so bad it jolted me awake at 2am to eat painkillers. But all this teaches me: treasure and cherish your loved ones be they your family or friends. At least if I just leave suddenly one day, I had the opportunity to do something for them. I don't want to one day regret that I never been able to cook dinner for my family or make/buy things for my friends. Afterall, they deserve it! All of them!

Old Blog Skin

2010-01-22T21:23:00.001+08:00

Well, I've decided to revert back to the old blog skin though I preferred the other one. Its because I can't seem to be able to view comments and sometimes there are technicality problems because the other is purely HTML. So my counter drops from 600 to 0. Haha.. But it doesn't matter because how many view this is not important.

On an additional note, today I cooked the chicken and soup for dinner and another success. Woot! Looks like I'm well on my way to becoming a house-husband.. KAKA.. kidding..

Dental Dental

2010-01-20T22:19:00.003+08:00

Life is often or maybe always, a crossroad of choices and every choice is like a wooden see-saw. While you get to enjoy the thrill at the top of one end, you also have to experience being at the bottom. Well, actually I'm not very sure why I started off with that but I did.

Anyway, today I attended my scheduled visit at Alexandra Hospital. It was supposed to be for a wisdom tooth extraction for my bottom left and right ones but after x-ray it showed that I had 2 upper ones too which weren't impacted like the bottom ones. For those who don't know, impacted means that the tooth is growing horizontally instead of vertically like normal. So the nurse advised that I remove all. I ended up extracting the top and bottom right ones. Well, my busy dad was so good to go down to help me sign the consent form and stay ALL the way until I finished. Love you Dad! The dentist was so rough she nearly cut the side of my mouth with the scalpel when she put it in but its over anyway. So now I have another appointment next friday at Jurong Medical Centre for the other two along with the removal of the other two wisdom teeth.

To be frank I am not exactly a fan of operations so I was quite nervous. My hands were icy cold (but that's normal) and after the operation I still had to smile cos I was afraid my dad might get worried. Then I sent a playful sms to my mum so she would think that I'm ok (if you can joke you should be alright). Really don't want them worrying, afterall this operation cost my dad's medisave $715 already and the next one another identical sum. My friends are all so caring, all sent sms-es to ask how I was doing. The only hassle now is that the wound keeps bleeding. I keep spitting out blackish-red blood and that is not because I'm poisoned or what but just that the blood is too concentrated. Been bleeding for 8 hours already and by the 6th hour I was actually quite dizzy from the loss of blood. Hopes it stops bleeding by tomorrow morning. I'm waking up at 5.30am for my next dose of medication and maybe cook some porridge for breakfast. I'm really starving but if I go cook something now then my parents would know so better not.

Anyway, I've thought of taking this time to see whether I can learn some cooking or try things out. Well, if I can't eat then my family gotta be the guinea pig! Keke. Hmm.. this year's CNY is together with V day, wonder how all the couples gonna celebrate.. Hope they have both a happy CNY and V day. I'll be in Malaysia during that time as usual, celebrating with my maternal side of the family. Well, till another time, this is Dixon signing off.. Haha.. so cliche..

Girls need lessons on how to sit

2010-01-14T21:35:00.002+08:00

I really want to say this: GIRLS NEED LESSONS ON HOW TO SIT!!!

I was at this coffee shop eating and there were this group of school girls at a table further away. Dunno which school they are from cos I'm not into uniform-study but there were about 3 of them. Being students in a group, they were chatting happily away while the uncles in the coffee shop were staring at them. Well, they weren't exactly being very loud or gorgeously beautiful so one might wonder why so many people were staring at them.

The reason is simple, they were wearing school uniforms (skirts) and sitting with their legs open the way some guys do (which is ok for guys cos they wear pants). This crude position conveniently displayed whatever was under their skirt to the willing or unwilling public. Obviously the uncles were enjoying every moment of "eye-candy".

Well, when I left I decided to do the girls a favour. I went up to one of them and said this (I said in chinese but the meaning is this in english) "Girl, you might want to close your legs, everybody is staring.." After which I left. The girls obviously embarrassed immediately halted the free show. Sorry uncles for stopping your enjoyment! HAHA.. Girls really need to learn how to sit properly so they can protect their modesty. Grrrrr

The real meaning of friends

2010-01-12T19:40:00.000+08:00

Before I get to the blog post proper, would just like to say that somehow I can't find where to read the comments people post. So kindly try to leave them on the tagboard or enlighten me how to read them. Thanks

Well, its just some sort of an enlightenment I got. Some people have really taught me what it means to be a friend and in contrast, some have also just as clearly shown what isn't. A friend isn't someone that stands you up, one that always gives countless excuses for them when the only clear one is just that you really aren't that important in their lives. To them, you are but someone who is at their beck and call. When they feel bored or crudely speaking, they have a vacant slot in their schedule their desperately want to fill, they will ask you out. When suddenly a "better option" or better companion for this slot appears, you are conveniently thrown out of the picture with less thought given than throwing a piece of used tissue paper. These people are not friends. They are teachers. They have taught me that I am not that important after all and not to expect them to see me just the way I see them. More importantly, they have taught me how naive I am and to wake up from this idealistic dream of who the people around me really are. I shan't put names for it is best to speak not of the evils of others but rather to laud the goods of them.

Well, I guess the only good thing is that in contrast, these people show me how good real friends are. Real friends are there to listen when you need a ear. They are this special group of people that are willing to listen to you grumble and rant even when they themselves have a truckload of worries burdening them and yet they don't complain. They offer you help whenever they think you need it be it whether you accept it or not. Most importantly, friends make you feel loved and wanted. Their actions emphasize again and again how important you are to them and how much they want you to be in their lives in the capacity of a friend.

For this, I really want to say a big thank you to my friends and also the "teachers". The former for just being part of my life and the latter for waking me up to the harsh reality of the world.

Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams

2010-01-03T20:52:00.001+08:00

“He wishes for the cloths of Heaven” by William Butler Yeats

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams

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This blog post just ends here. Period.

"Mother" Land

2009-12-24T20:39:00.003+08:00

Well, been a long time since I updated anything.. Been real busy with trivial things. Haha.. Going out with friends, slacking, etc and now... I am in Malaysia! Well this time I'm away for a whole 10 days. I just spent 4D3N in Penang and now I'm back in KL. This time we are back to also celebrate my maternal grand-dad's 80th (actually 79th but they count chinese calendar) birthday. My grandparents seem to have really aged so its good that I come back to see them. Penang was nice but not exactly worth 4 days.. ended up watching Avatar & Bodyguards and Assasins back to back. 6 Ringgit each so its SG$2.50. Wonderful price for wonderful movies. Wonder how my friends are back in Singapore celebrating christmas. Must be clubbing or going for dinners or shopping. Really miss them....

Friends vs Acquaintances, Frog vs Toad

2009-12-08T19:39:00.002+08:00

It has been said that no man is an island and indeed, we are but a thread woven into the fabric of the society. As such, the fellow threads that reside beside us along with those that cross our paths are given special consideration over those that just remotely line the corners. The term "Friend" has been used countless times for this group of people but how many really know the words they use? A friend is one you place close to heart, someone you want to talk to, a person who you are willing to sacrifice for. For others, I recommend the term "Acquaintance". The difference between "friend" and "acquaintance" is just like the difference between a frog and a toad. They appear to be the same and in actual fact they are greatly similar but they are in essence still two different entities. Maybe its time I re-define the parameters and accord people their proper names.

Time for solitude

2009-11-15T22:40:00.002+08:00

Maybe its time I left things as they were and not try to change things. I'm tired.. maybe its time I rest.. yes.. I think I need rest. I don't know what to say, maybe just some solitude to heal..

Topone KTV

2009-11-14T20:24:00.002+08:00

I went to TopOne KTV at Bugis on Friday and overall it was quite a worthwhile experience. It costs $18 nett per person from 11am to 5.50pm with free flow ice drinks. Though the ice drinks weren't exactly that tasty and they were like thos from SAF, it was overall still considered worthwhile comparing the number of hours to the price. Beware, personally I feel only the mango and fruit punch is drinkable. The ice lemon tea is totally WEIRD.. I think my voice went into fatigue mode after that.. Haha.. Well, hope to be able to go singing with friends more often after my voice regains its energy. WAKAKAKA

Intermission story

2009-11-06T16:40:00.002+08:00

Hmm.. I really dunno if I should continue the story since it is so easily guessable.. I am really not suitable to be a scriptwriter. Well, in the mean time I thought I would insert an intermission piece. This piece is not really a story by itself and it is even shorter than the previous ones I wrote. It is more of a piece describing a feeling. Purely fictional as always and for your comments.
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As the clock ticked like drops of water from a leaking tap, I slowly tilted my head towards the magenta calendar on the wall. 7 days. 7 days have passed. Just as slowly, I lowered my head back into the deafening silence that surrounded me. A tiny droplet of crimson fluid made its way unto my pale white hand creating a horrifying contrast of colours. I knew I was yet again consumed into everything, everything that had happened 7 days ago.

The details of what happened no longer held significance as the outcome overshadowed everything in all of its intensity. I had lost my mother to a traffic accident and it was because she wanted to protect me. Whether it was a car or a truck, whether she was hit from the left or from the right, all these no longer mattered. At least to me it didn't.

From the moment she was robbed of her last breath I knew only grief and sorrow would be my dearest companions in the days to come. I never thought of her as everything, yet at that moment, I felt as though I had nothing left. My soul was fragmented, shattered, obliterated. She was the frame supporting me in all good and bad times and as this frame dissolved, so did I.

I did not need to cry. Afterall, tears just seemed to stream down and it was beyond my control. The emptiness within me began to eat into me. It was like a wound that festered or a parasite that was consuming the very essence of me. I seemed to be contained in a blue bubble of sorrow so much that physical human desires did not seem to plague me. The basic hunger, thirst and sleep seemed to know that my soul was too busy with other matters and they took a long deserved break.

My tanned skin began to turn a ghastly white and all life seemed to have been sucked out of me. Everything grinded to a halt and soon I only knew that I had no more tears to shed. Blood seemed to have taken its place readily and there was little I could do to remedy it. People said losing someone important was painful but I touched my heart and asked "Where is the pain?" I no longer had a soul to allow for the manifestation of pain. I longed to ache and to hurt yet all I had was a harrowing emptiness.

Yet, if things were to happen again I would still choose the same ending. This emptiness was not one I could bear to let my mother undergo. I knew just as she was what I lived for, I held the same if not a higher level of importance in her life. The more I was consumed into grief, the more I was thankful that my mother wasn't the one left behind to undergo all this. She didn't deserve to suffer this emptiness. No one deserved to suffer this be it the greatest criminal on earth. Yet if there was someone who had to I'd rather the person be me. Thank you God for saving my mother from this. Thank you.
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Remember, it is always the living who pains and not the dead. Grieving is never an easy process and I hope courage will be with all who have to undergo such pain.

Trial Test for Story

2009-11-03T22:18:00.000+08:00

I've thought long and hard and I found that so far I am only able to write short stories, then I thought maybe I'd challenge a lengthier one, one that would come in parts, maybe like a serial. I've a feeling it isn't going to be nice but here goes...
__________________________________
Just as the dark figure was about to corner her, Carol jolted awake from her sleep. Luckily it was just a nightmare but it was strange how she had not had this particular one for a period of time and that it had recurred. Tilting her head towards the wall-clock, it was already 6am in the morning. She thought she might as well forget going back to sleep and climbed up from my bed out of her room.

Creeping silently into her parents' room, she quietly turned off her mother's alarm clock and just as stealthily exited the parameters. Carol could never really bear having her mother wake up so early just to make breakfast for she and her brother. Having to work was already tiring enough and she definitely needed as much rest as she could get. After Carol took a bath to clean herself from the perspiration her nightmare gave her, she prepared breakfast for her younger brother and herself just as quietly as though she was afraid of waking the family up. When the clock struck 6.30am, she woke her brother up and prepared both of them for a fresh new day of school.

School was always something Carol enjoyed be it the teachers, the lessons or the friends but maybe exams fared a bit lesser on that scale. Always equipped with a bright cheery smile, she was always ready to make the start of the day wonderful for her friends. Carol was in secondary 3 and she was glad she didn't have to be stuck in the whirlpool of O' level preparations and studying. She had the luxury of participating in her CCA, chilling out with her friends and just enjoying the fresh air. It was as though she could have her cake and eat it.

She had a really really good friend who was in the same CCA, badminton, as her. Well, at least this friend considered herself to be Carol's best friend. This person was Yue Tong, a bubbly girl from China who had the defect of a short tongue which caused her to fumble a little with words. She considered herself Carol's best friend and being the kind soul, Carol was never cruel enough to refute that.

Well, it so happened that Yue Tong was pre-occupied with other commitments that day and she had to go for badminton practice alone. So instead of her usual pairing with Yue Tong, today she was paired by the coach with a guy called Zine. Zine wasn't exactly the very sociable type. In fact, he preferred indulging in solitude and rarely spoke to others. So though he did have charming looks, he wasn't a favourite with most of the school-mates. But Carol thought "It's only a badminton practice, it can't be that bad" and well, it didn't turn out that bad either.

As time slowly passed, it soon came to the end of badminton practice and Carol began to make her way home. As she took the usual path home, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her abdomen and the pain was so unbearable that she had to bend over. It so happened that Zine was on his way home too and seeing that there was something strange with Carol, he approached her to take a closer look. However, when he saw a stream of blood streaking Carol's leg, he got more than he expected.

"Oh my god, you are bleeding Carol! Are you injured? What happened? Do I need to call 995?" A quick barrage of questions flooded the pain-stricken Carol which did not really suit his usual cool image. Forcing a smile out from her pale-white face, Carol just uttered "Don't be silly, its just what girls have every month and I didn't expect it to come today, it's nothing"

Well, if a girl said that there is little that a guy can do except be embarassed and considering Zine's character, it was no wonder that he began to blush. Putting aside his embarassment, he still thought Carol wasn't in that good a state. "You still need a hospital in this state even if it is just ... just.. that.. so don't argue and I'll get you there". Supporting Carol, the two of them made their way to a nearby hospital to seek medical attention for this poor girl who had a more painful than normal period.

As Carol was being attended to at the A&E, Zine could only anxiously wait outside. After a while, two nurses came out of the area Carol was and started gossiping. Yet, what he heard was definitely more than what he had expected for a routine day of school.

"What are teenagers coming to, 15 years old and already not a virgin"

To be continued.....

Happy Birthday to Me

2009-10-23T21:51:00.000+08:00

OMGOMGOMG... I'm so thrilled this year with the influx of birthday greetings.. Must be the work of facebook.. Haha.. But aside from all the facebook greetings I got, would still like to thank those who sent me a sms.. haha.. Let me see if I can list them:

Hans: first person.. when I was sleeping...
Khairuzzaman: and yes... I was STILL sleeping
Zac a.k.a teddy: Please please focus on your studies... you got so many projects
Songhua: thanks for the cake, take care for your dental extraction
Eugene Goh: Big surprise! Haven't heard from you in ages
Edwin: Thanks so much for the greeting when you are so busy and tired already
Yuheng: who called, haha, its nice hearing your voice and greeting.
Louis: Must take care for your upcoming US trip
Amos a.k.a Cookie: School work school work.. dun slack hor
Yang Fan: I shan't bother to write too much cos your era of technology won't bring you here
Vincent Bai: Thanks but just focus on your studies.. Haha

And of course there is Bernard but I know its just because you are in Brunei.. Must take care!

And this doesn't mean those who sent a greeting on facebook are any less sincere.. I love all of them.. Went out in the afternoon with songhua for lunch but too bad he had a dental extraction so he had to watch me eat.. then he surprised me with a cake! Thanks loads! Then went home had a nap and then it was steamboat dinner and a cake bought by my sis! But she fell down on the way home... so heart pain... she shouldn't have go and buy the cake.. being safe is most important. Luckily she isn't hurt if not how much b'day greeting also wun make me happy. Though this birthday wasn't very eventful but I feel very blessed to have so many people send me greetings. I will definitely remember this day! T-H-A-N-K-S!

Laptop Down & New Skin

2009-10-21T08:25:00.000+08:00

Haiz.. My Laptop is currently down and gone for repair.. Now I'm using an interim one that isn't really that useable.. Life becomes boring without my laptop... Oh yes, and I just changed my blog skin, hope its nice.. Seeing how to make it better

Lost

2009-10-11T20:51:00.000+08:00

Somehow, I feel like I got hit by a tornado and I am stranded somewhere that is not anywhere near familiar. I'm ... Lost.. There are so many things my rational side tells me I can be doing. I can be studying to prepare myself for my university education, I could be exercising to break some sweat and burn some calories or I could find ways to be closer to my family and friends. Yet somehow I have no idea why my motivation to do any of those are totally burnt out. Every day I am bored stiff yet I have no motivation to occupy myself with something. Maybe I'll list down some things I should be doing but I am not so if I come across this again, I hopefully will try to do them.

1) Revise my english and mathematics for university next year
2) Prepare birthday presents for my friends who have upcoming birthdays.. of course this is minus some egoistic guy called Y H Quah cos he doesn't need it.. Already got Zac's one, sort of know what to get for Bernard just need to remember to get it when the time comes, Sis one is unknown yet. Haiz..
3)Erm.. maybe give tuition if anybody got lobang..
4) Settle my relief teaching stuff
5) Maybe exercise a little

The codewords of love

2009-10-08T12:45:00.000+08:00

Some time ago a couple I know got into some argument and nearly broke up. Luckily everything worked out well in the end and they patched up but something in this struck me. Sometimes, things we say when in a relationship holds another meaning. Everything is about a different perspective. For example:

"I'm sorry" - It doesn't mean I'm wrong, it just means I care too much about you to risk this relationship.

Get the meaning? Sometimes one party in a relationship starts getting jealous but it just means the person cares so much about the other. When you are able to see through it and get the real meaning will you be able to appreciate the intents. But even so, words are still a powerful tool and be very careful on how you use them. Never use your mouth to hurt others but only to say "I love you".

I've been trying to help them see things in another perspective and hopefully things for them will only get better. Then I'll be really happy for them. May they be blessed in whatever they do.

Everything is forgiveable when you are cute

2009-10-08T12:41:00.000+08:00

I was on the bus back from meeting a friend when a pair of mother and son boarded the bus. The son was pre-primary school age probably 3-5 years old and was as normal boys are - hyperactive. Fiddling with a blown-up ball (those type like beach balls) and other things like pencils and such, he was standing on the bus seats, moving all around and to a certain extent disturbing others.

However, strangely nobody seemed to take offence including me. The boy was really cute and even when he was making a nuisance of himself nobody felt it was offending. All that we could feel is that he is just a little kid wanting to have fun. Just when I thought this was the case, another thought struck me. Sometimes we would see "nuisance kids" on public transport like bus or MRT and we would have the strong urge to give them a slap when they really get on our nerves. Yet why did everything this boy do seem alright?

Therefore the almighty conclusion is: Everything is forgiveable when you are cute. HAHAHA

Chicken Soup for the Mother and Son Soul

2009-10-03T00:33:00.000+08:00

Recently, I've been devoting some of my free time to reading a book titled "Chicken Soup for the Mother and Son Soul". Every story is ever so fascinating and inspirational that it pushes me to read the next. Recounts of copious mother & son love flood the pages and touching is but an understatement penned to it.

As I close the book, saving some for another day, I am also tempted to recount a moment that best encapsulates my love for my mother or vice versa. I wanted to have an incident that I could proudly show how much my mum loved me or I loved her. Yet, almost immediately I knew there was no need for it. I loved her for who she was, my mum, and not what transpired between us. I didn't need a special incident to love her or for her to love me. Love for each other was in who we were.

At that very moment I had the urge to call home or send her a sms telling her how much I loved her or asking her how her overseas trip to US was. Yet, being raised in a traditional Asian family has its limitations. The words of love Americans so freely express would put both of us in an awkard situation. So for now, all I can do is be glad of my renewed love for her and keep it in my heart. Hopefully she feels my love and maybe she really can. Afterall there is always a strange unexplainable bond between mothers and sons. I should really do more for her. Somehow she seemed to have slipped in my rankings of priorities. I must remind myself she is and always will be ever so important to me!!

A dedication to Mum..

Children and the simplest laughter

2009-09-27T10:47:00.000+08:00

I happened to be at Bugis Junction about a week ago and was waiting for my friend. As I waited for his arrival, I just sat down beside the fountain listening to songs serenading out from my MP5. This fountain always had throngs of children frolicking in the water and that day was no exception. Yet another revelation was to be bestowed upon me from an everyday scene.

As the children that ranged from toddlers to primary school age ran in and out of the fountain, their laughter resonated throughout the air. They did not bother whether their clothes were wet or whether they would slip and fall. All they were interested in was the happiness that moment could give them. As I fixated my gaze on these little children, I subconsciously started to smile to myself. Just as I started to think I was being silly, I looked around and found that I wasn't an exception. Everyone was smiling and laughing at the children including foreigners who walked past. I knew laughter was contagious but I never knew it could be on such a large scale.

What everyone saw was an innocence that was left behind when they grew up and it was this innocence that thrilled them. After we have grown up, how many of us would be willing to run in and out of the fountain being drenched and risking the looks of others. When we become too conscious of how others view us, we are no longer willing to reach out for simple things that promise simple happiness. I'm glad I've seen this innocence and though I know I have sacrificed it for growing up, its still heartening to see its manifestation on others.

One and a half weeks without Mum

2009-09-18T21:52:00.000+08:00

Mum just flew off today to US for her annual GSTA meeting. She'll be gone for one and a half weeks. Though I didn't send her off, I wrote her a note reminding her to bring her boarding pass and passport and to take care. The greatest present she could give me for this trip was to be back safe and healthy. Yup, that's all I hope for.

Haven't been in the mood for writing for some time or partially it is the lack of inspiration. I don't like to write for the sake of writing. If I want to write a story, it must be one that touches me so if inspiration doesn't want to bestow its grace on me I'll put writing on hold. Maybe I'll just update how I'm doing in the mean while.

Hmm... Jin-E's birthday is coming up so I'm going on a date with him this upcoming Monday (I know it sounds wrong but I like to use the word date when I go out with anyone be it friend or family). Haha.. he still doesn't know it is for his birthday. He must be wondering why I suddenly ask him out after so long of lost contact. Hopefully everything turns out right, haven't seen him since the last section gathering. Then there is Yu Heng's birthday in November but that is alright.. Hahaha.. Afterall it is not as though I haven't heard his voice for ages.. though not of my own choice.. Haha.. I'll see about that then.. Afterall, it is only September..

Painful chapter

2009-08-29T22:04:00.000+08:00

Before I start my next string of ramblings, I would just like to say thanks to everybody who fortunately or unfortunately chances upon my blog and takes some of their time to read it. Though this is more of a platform for me to relief myself of my emotions, I still hope my writings can to a small extent be part of your life. I just added a counter at the side to keep track of how many people pass by but just ignore it. Also, I added my picture not to make the blog prettier (I know I don't look nice) but to let anybody who chances upon this blog at least know who I am. Well, on to my next story.

Rather than say what follows is a story, I would prefer to call it a chapter simply because it is a chapter in my life-book. I have said excerpts from this chapter a few times before on this blog but never the whole of it so I thought it would be good if I could come clean with it. To me, it is the most painful chapter in my life even till now or metaphorically as a human, it is the biggest wound I have that festers even up till today. This chapter is about my paternal grandmother or more affectionately known as Ah Ma.

From the time I was born, I was brought up by my paternal grandmother. My earliest childhood memories were of myself at my grandmother's house playing around with my other cousins. This arrangement was most probably due to my parents' busy work schedule and as such I was given the chance to grow up under the care of Ah Ma. My grandmother wasn't young already then and taking care of a baby was definitely not a easy task. To add on to her burden, I was born not only an extremely mischievous child but also an extremely sickly child. I couldn't eat sweets, chocolates, ice-cream or any cold drinks or you would see a kid coughing so badly you thought he was afflicted with tuberculosis. When I slept, I could not turn on the fans or aircon and had to place a pillow over my chest to keep it warm on top of a blanket. I can't even keep track of how many times I had seen a doctor during my childhood for cough. All this carried on even till my primary school days.

Well, back to where I trailed off ... yes, imagine an old lady looking after a toddler like this. I cannot imagine how much of a burden I was to her during my childhood years. Yet I never once heard her complain that I was a burden to her. She always held that caring and kind expression and looked upon me as though I was her greatest treasure. I just had to say I like popiah and the next day she would trudge down to the wet market and buy bags of ingredients back to make so much popiah my entire family had to eat it for three meals everyday for a week. I even ungratefully used to complain that she was always overdoing it but this was all her way of showing how much she loved me. I was just SOO childish then. I really didn't see it this way, the way I should have seen it.

She loved to make blankets for my entire family. She would often bring me along to a cloth shop and buy bolts of cloth. Then she would cut them up into triangles and sew them back together into a beautiful masterpiece. This would then be sewed onto a piece of velvet and they would be the perfect thing to shield us from the cold. As we used the blankets, they became softer and softer and that made them all the more nicer to use. Each blanket spoke of her hard work, her care for us and her love. All these old blankets were thrown away when I moved house as they were all tattered and torn and how I wish I had left one behind.

Continuing on, my grandma slowly became sickly when I entered primary school. I didn't know what she was down with then. All I knew was that she was sick and as such I rarely got to see her. I knew she was in the hospital often yet I was never brought there to visit her. Then, one faithful day when I was 10 years old, my mum told me that grandma had passed away. At that very instant, I actually didn't feel anything. Maybe it was because I hadn't seen grandma for too long and her sudden absence didn't make any difference. I just acknowledged this reality and prepared myself to attend her wake.

I remember her wake was held at a void deck and when I arrived, I saw some of my cousins sitting on chairs wiping their tears. I thought to myself then that there was really no need to cry so much. However, the greatest mockery happened within minutes as I walked over to the coffin to look at my grandma's body. As I saw grandma's pale body resting inside the coffin, tears just instinctively started dropping. There was no feeling of sadness yet I didn't know why I was crying. Just minutes ago I was thinking that my cousins were over-reacting yet then I was crying uncontrollably. For that day, everytime the image of grandma's body passed through my mind, the tears would magically appear from thin air and make their way down my cheeks.

Yet kids are still kids and they recover very quickly. The next day I was up and cheery again even playing carom with my cousins as the wake grew "boring" for me. My aunt then walked over to me and passed me a bowl of spare ribs cooked in some reddish-black sauce and told me to eat up. To be frank, I never really liked spare ribs but I don't know why they had the impression that I did. However, I had to be polite so I just gave the excuse that I was full and pushed the bowl to my dad. My aunt firmly intercepted the bowl and returned it before me. She told me gently yet firmly that my grandma's last wish on her death bed was to have been able to cook this spare ribs for me one more time. She didn't manage to realise her wish and so my aunt completed it on her behalf.

My mind went blank at that moment. You must know, my grandma had 7 children and 15 grandchildren and there could be 101 things she wanted to do. Yet her last wish was simply to be able to cook this bowl of spare ribs not for anybody else but for her most mischievous and unfilial grandchild. All she wanted to do was but to make me happy in a way she thought I would be even if I didn't like eating spare ribs. I quietly pulled over the bowl and bit into the spare ribs which were immersed in the murky sauce. I took chunks after chunks of the meat of it till the bones were ripped bare and as I tried my best to swallow every morsel, tears dropped into the bowl. I didn't bother to wipe my tears and continued eating as though there was nobody around. All I knew at that moment was that no matter how I didn't like spare ribs, no matter how full I was, I had to finish up the food. It was no longer just a bowl of spare ribs, it was a symbol of love and my grandmother's last wish. I can never forget how I felt when I knew what my grandmother's last wish was. Even up till today, whenever I think of this bowl of spare ribs, tears still uncontrollably make their way down my face.

After the wake was over, I recovered to my old cheery self almost immediately. However, everybody needs a grieving process for the wound to heal . All I did was to cover it immediately and of course it never got to heal. Slowly, this wound started to fester and rot and of course the pain it brought along with it increased exponentially too. Even till today, my heart cringes everytime I think about my grandma and just saying a few sentences about her brings tears to my eyes. Her death was a wound that never healed properly to me. I am left to painfully wallow in this debt of love I have to her. This is all retribution for me as I never learnt to return the love she gave to me. Even up till today, my grandma is still the lady I love the most in my entire love above my sis, my mum and definitely my future wife. Nobody is able to take her place for as long as I live, her love runs in my blood.

From her, I learnt how to look at the good side of people. I learnt how to appreciate rather than complain and to look at the good intentions of things people do even if the actions don't turn out all that fancifully. I never appreciated anything my grandma did for me be it the food she cooked, the blankets she sewed or the tender loving care she showered on me. Yet when I learnt all these, it was too late, the chance has been lost forever. Sometimes, thinking of all these lost chances give me the impulse to do something nice for my family and friends which seem so out of the blue. Maybe my grandma meant for all these love that I never managed to give her to be transferred to my family and friends.

It has been 10 years since she has passed away as I am about to turn 20 in about 2 months time. Frankly speaking I can barely remember how my grandma looks now but I can never forget how my grandma loved me. Her love flows in my blood and my actions and I really hope that she is well wherever she may be now. She died of stomach cancer when I was 10 and sometimes I have this wish that I can die of stomach cancer when I am old too. At least this way I can share something in common with her and pay back this retribution for how unfilial I was.

I love you Ah Ma.

Comments and Suggestions

2009-08-28T19:59:00.000+08:00

From my knowledge I know there are a little teeny weeny bit more people viewing my blog here now so just wanted to say that if you all have any suggestions and comments on how I can better my stories or just want to drop a greeting in general, feel free to leave a comment at my entries. Thanks!

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

2009-07-24T20:46:00.001+08:00

It has been quite a relaxed period of time in camp these few weeks so on one exceptionall boring night I decided to write a short story. Been ages since I wrote a short story. Hopefully my writing skills haven't turned too rusty. Of course, it is purely fictional. Haha..
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"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven". I softly counted to myself as I laid beside my wife who was fast asleep after a tiring day at work. There were seven luminous neon-coloured stars pasted on the ceiling surface. The ornamental stars were a beautiful sight to behold and were a consolation on this star-less night. Alas, it has been seven long years since our beloved Madeline left us for the embrace of God. Yet my yearning for her has only grown stronger. Afterall, who could so callously forget her?

Madeline was our first child, a beautiful lovable girl who was God's greatest gift to my wife and me. She had black round eyes that twinkled like the stars and a smile that would light up even the gloomiest day. Whenever my wife or me returned from work, she never failed to give us a hug and a peck on our cheek. She often left me wondering what good deeds did I ever do to deserve a bundle of joy like her.

Maybe God did decide afterall that I did not deserve such joy. Just as Madeline turned 5 years old, her health began to fail her. Though she continued to shower us with her daily hugs and kisses, the colour was noticeably absent from her once rosy cheeks. We brought her to a hospital to have her examined and that was when God's callous verdict was read to us. Madeline had leukemia and it was at a terminal stage. Even the doctors were shocked at how the symptoms only surfaced at such an advanced stage. We were told that chemotherapy had limited palliative effects for her and would only put her through more pain and suffering. Madeline had only six more months to live.

Devastation, despair, grief, none of these could even describe a hundredth of how we felt. Even as my wife and I were reeling from the shock, we were even more at a loss at how to break the news to Madeline. How were we to tell her that she was going to leave us? As we left the doctor's room, Madeline once again threw herself into my embrace and planted a kiss on my cheek. I was weak then and I allowed a stream of tears to slide down my cheek. Madeline gently wiped away my tears with her tiny fingers and just as gently whispered into my ears "Please don't cry Daddy". As I held her tighter into my embrace, my wife edged me with her elbow reminding me to keep myself in check in our daughter's presence. I forcefully withdrew my tears and carried little Madeline to the car.

The journey home was exceptionally quiet. Afterall, we didn't know what to say. As I glanced at the rear mirror to see what Madeline was doing, Madeline finally broke the deadly silence. "Am I sick? Am I going to die?" Two questions, eight words, but that was more than I could take. I immediately halted the car and pulled little Madeline into my embrace. My wife also broke down and hugged her while we both burst into tears. The only thing I could manage to utter was "Sorry Madeline, I'm really sorry". As her black twinkling eyes rolled for a moment, Madeline patted us on our heads softly and said "Its alright, I love you all". There was no need for us to break the news to her, our tears spoke everything.

During the course of the next few months, Madeline's health visibly ebbed from her little stature every day. Her complexion deteoriorated from pale to ghastly and she grew tired easily. Yet, she still managed to muster the strength to shower us with her classic hugs and kisses. To us, they were the strength for us to push on. Yet many a time we were unable to bear the pain and collapsed together in tears when Madeline wasn't looking.

One day when we were playing with Madeline, she suddenly said "When I die, I want to become a star and always look over Daddy and Mummy". After which, she planted a kiss on my wife's and my cheek. Then she continued "I want to give Daddy and Mummy more kisses while I still can so they can always be happy". She proceeded to alternate kisses on my wife and me and as she did so, our brave front melted into nothingness. Tears trickled down our faces without the slightest sign of stopping and we hugged her tightly as though we were afraid she would leave us that very instant.

Weeks later, Madeline did leave us after all. Yet throughout the entire six months, she never once cried even when she was the one going through all the pain. When she left us, she mustered the last of her strength to give my wife and I a kiss before passing away with a smile on her face. She was really a brave girl, a Madeline that was a hundred times stronger than her parents.

My wife and I decided to donate all her organs away. Madeline would have wanted that being the sweet little girl she was. She brought sight back to a fine gentleman with her corneas, spared a lady and old man the pain of dialysis with her kidneys and bestowed a little child a new lease of life with her heart.

Every year on Madeline's death anniversary, my wife and I would paste a luminous, neon-coloured star on our ceiling in memory of our beloved daughter. Her kisses and hugs are etched deeply into our hearts and they speak of a legacy of strength and love.

"Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are
Up above the world so high
Like a diamond in the sky"

We love you Madeline......
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Obviously this story is fictional because I don't have a wife not to mention a daughter. I was inspired to write this after reading of a boy who was born with "half a heart" and was given 3 days to live but he survived for 15 years before passing away. Life is such a fragile thing.....

Strength to go on

2009-07-06T23:43:00.000+08:00

I had the honour of having a discussion with a friend of mine on some issues of the heart. He told me he wanted to find a soulmate, someone whom he could really relate to and share his problems with. Haiz.. Who wouldn't want to find this special someone?

How I wish I could really find a soulmate too, someone to be my pillar of strength, a shoulder I could cry on, just somebody who could not tell me to stop crying but to just be there and hear me cry. I always believed that it was best if I share the joy with my friends but keep the sorrow for myself because often, the amount of sorrow that corrodes my soul is so large that it shocks even myself. I never want my friends to be affected by my sorrow and be sad too. I only want for them to be happy.

Yet my friend told me that I was wrong. A soulmate would want to share my sorrows. Even if at the end of the day nothing is solved, he just wants to know what I am going through. Slowly but surely he convinced me and I too started to hope for a soulmate. Yet at the same time I prayed that nobody would be so unfortunate to become that someone who had to share my sorrows. Now I hold that glimmer of hope that one day I might really find a soulmate. But do I really deserve one? With all that burden and pain and all that I have done, do I really deserve a special someone? Do I deserve this pillar of strength to press on in my life through all the tribulations and pain, sorrow and despair? I really don't know and I don't want to think about it. The very thought of this scares me. The only thing I can say is "Please, let me at least hold on to that hope".

昨日黄昏

2009-06-07T15:50:00.000+08:00

"我爱你, 不因为你乖巧也不因为你可爱只因为你是你,我的孙子."

我仿佛能听到我已故的奶奶说着这句话. 虽然她从没说过, 但我知道她是这么想的. 因为她的行动已证明了一切. 她的爱犹如一个美丽的黄昏. 暖暖的包围着我, 轻轻的呵护着我, 永远只想我快乐和幸福. 但从我失去您的那一天, 我又要如何快乐? 如何幸福? 虽然这灿烂的黄昏已成为过去, 但我仍然忘不了它. 忘不了这温柔的昨日黄昏.

虽然我知道以后我可能会遇到下一个黄昏, 但它不一样. 它永远也不能跟我奶奶的黄昏相比. 就算它有多么的漂亮美丽, 我心里的第一位永远是我奶奶无私与温柔的昨日黄昏.

The leaving of a true friend

2009-06-07T12:59:00.000+08:00

Its been 1 years and 4 months since I've known you and you have given me 1 years and 4 months of joy. Our meeting was through the hands of fate and through that same pair hands we are about to part. I know you will lead a good life in Taiwan and I should wish you all the best but deep down, I will really miss you. Kim Koon, I really hope you will lead a better life in the future, a life that is better than the one you are leading now or that you have led before.

I remember the first time I seriously sat down and listened to your story. It was a tale of pain and sacrifice yet it also spoke of perseverance and selflessness. As my respect for your strength grew, so did my heartache. You made me realize how blessed I was yet at the same time you extricated my weakness so clearly for me to see. I was nothing in the shadow of you.

As our friendship grew, I started to do things for you from the bottom of my heart. Things I wouldn't imagine myself doing for just a friend. Slowly, you have taken a special place in my heart. You have written a beautiful yet sad chapter in my life-book. I always felt that I haven't done enough for you, for a friend like you and for the friendship between us. Can you forgive me?

Smiles and Laughter

2009-05-30T20:45:00.000+08:00

Just as an update, I finally found a way to type chinese on my new laptop so there is a chance that future posts might be in Chinese. Afterall, I'm bilingual!

I like to smile and laugh. That's a fact I love to share. I have always believed that smiles and laughter are contagious and it would be my pleasure to spread the joy around. Because I am a simple person to the point that some people coin "naive", the simplest of things are enough to provide me with at least short-term joy. What do I mean? Hmm.... just receiving a sms from my friend Alex telling me that he received my cake and he likes it was enough to make my day and keep me happy! I really could understand the meaning of 施比受,更有福.

Because I often laugh and smile in a silly manner for no reason, many people can get the chance to laugh at my silliness which is COOL because then they are able to laugh too. Some people told me they like my laughter which I feel very consoled. But at the end of the day, below all that smile and laughter, I am still human. As often as I laugh myself silly, I am also enveloped in sorrow and melancholy. Yet when I am encased in the cocoon of the latter, I still have to plaster on a smile so that the people around me don't get affected and so that they can still see the laughter they like.

Haiz.... sometimes I really feel very tired. When the smiles and laughter do not come deep from the heart, I often feel a bolt of sadness right after the laughter. As tears threaten to mar the mood of others, I have but only the choice of masking them with even greater laughter. My smiles, laughter and joy are to be shared yet my sorrow, melancholy and tears are for me alone. I have tried my best never to let my tears see any other person besides myself for the simple reason that I don't have the right to do so. What right do I have, to mar the mood of those I hold close to heart with my pitiful tears of sorrow. I have none.

Yet in the deep recesses of my soul, in a long-forgotton corner of my heart, there is a voice hoping that one day, I can have someone I can cry to. Someone who doesn't need to say a word and just watch me cry. Someone I can hug and borrow a shoulder to wet with my tears. But I know the fufilment of such as akin to Martin Luther King (Jr)'s speech --- "I have a dream". Well, never mind, in the mean while, I will just have to plaster back on my smile and laughter and continue to bring joy to others before one day I get too tired to smile and laugh any more. Then, I will withdraw back into my cocoon of sorrow and melancholy in cold, harsh solitude.

Birthdays

2009-05-19T15:02:00.000+08:00

Alas, its strange how I have many friends who are born in the month of May and each of them I hold so dear to heart. There's Joab on the 21st, Wah Toon and Wah Kiat on the 25th and Alex on the 28th. With the exception of Joab (cos I just got to know him), I didn't manage to get the others prezzies last year. For Toon and Kiat it was because I didn't get the opportunity to meet up with them and for Alex, by the time I knew him his birthday was over. All this was quite a regret but luckily this year I managed to get them something.

For Joab, I got him some chocolates because I don't really know what he likes and getting him too big a gift when we just know each other might freak him out. For Alex, I got him a 1/2kg cake delivered to his house on 27th. Haiz... but I didn't know he was holding a Birthday Party on the 23rd. He would already have a large large cake to enjoy so I guess mine is really very extra... Hopefully he doesn't find eating mine too much a burden. Haha. For Toon and Kiat, the twins I've known for 8 years, I got them a custom-made "gift-box shape" 2kg chocolate cake. That should last them for a while.....Haha. But I am really a silly boy. I already planned this from last year so when I was applying for my army computer card and needed a referee, I purposely asked for Alex's and the twin's address. But just when I was delighting in the upcoming surprise, I suddenly realised that I had to ensure there was someone at home that day to receive it. Damn! In the end I still had to reveal it just that they don't know its a cake. Though my pocket is burnt through (The 2kg cake especially was $90), but at least I'm glad I am able to get them something this year. Afterall, birthdays are special and I want them to know they too are special to me. Thanks for having been my friends!

Haiz.... "Birthdays are special" and how true this is. The reason why I never forget my friends' birthdays stem from my own desires. Somehow, I have started to place what I desire onto my friends. Birthday as the name suggests celebrates the day a person is born, but more importantly, it recognises the person's existence as a source of joy and happiness to others. Because you made a difference in the lives of others that's why people want you to be "Happy" on that day. And the reason why others give you presents on your birthday is not because they want to add on to your inventory but rather to let you know how much you mean to them.

I vividly remember the day of my 18th birthday. To many, it is a day of joy and happiness. But to me, that day was an unfortunate memory I have to carry. Nobody in my family remembered my birthday on that day. If you think the Dixon you know isn't silly enough, wait till you hear this. That day, I waited long and hard for my sister and my parents to come home. I pretended that it was just any other day. But deep down, I was hoping that they would suddenly turn around and whisper to me a "Happy Birthday!" That was all I needed to make my day, no presents were required. Slowly, time passed and when it was 10pm, I could no longer withstand sitting alongside them. I gave an excuse of being tired and retired early for the night but there was no way I could sleep. I lay quietly on my bed, staring at the digital clock in front of me. Time passed....10.30pm......11.00 pm.......11.30pm.....With every half hour, my heart wrenched with pain. My rational mind told myself that most probably they had a really busy and tired day so they forgot, its not their fault. Yet deep down, I was still hoping that any moment they would pop into my room and "surprise" me with a "Happy Birthday!"

11.59pm. My heart raced faster than a F1 racing car and my hopes started to dwindle by the second. On one side I knew all was lost but yet I still prayed fervently that a miracle would happen. Then, the clock struck 12.00am. The moment the time turned 12, tears trickled down the side of my face. I slowly wiped off my tears with my hands and turned around. I could no longer face the clock. As tears caressed me softly and I drifted off to sleep, I could only whisper to myself "Happy Birthday Dixon".

You could ask why then didn't I just tell them outright. But to me, that no longer had any meaning. I'd rather accept the fact that I'm negligible than create an illusion that I am not. I have long grown past the age of caring about presents. All I long for every year is just a simple sms and that is all it needs to make my day.

It is basically this reason why I don't want others to feel even the slightest pain I went through. I want my friends to know that they are ALL special, if not to anybody, it is to me. Even if I'm not at all special to them.

I have a BMT section mate called Yu Heng and I know you are most probably the only one who is so free to come and stalk this place. I really HATE talking to him. Why? Because he can always see through me. He always knows what I really want and he always knows when I'm really sad. Though he has never seen me cry, he knows when I'm about to. In front of him, I feel that I am being stripped piece by piece. Though he is very egoistic, always boasting that I can never forget him and I really shouldn't feed his ego any further but I really have to say, he is correct. I can really never forget him. Just like how I can never forget any of my friends I hold so dear to my heart. Between me and all my friends lays a pair of binoculars. From the side I am looking through, each and every one of them are big. Yet I know from the side they are looking through, I am but a minute figure.

My choice of pain and tears

2009-05-18T13:44:00.000+08:00

Life has been a long, long operation and this surgery began when I became conscious of what was happening around me. I was injected with anaesthesia when it began and slowly, the doctor began cutting me apart. Inch by inch, the glowing sharp scalpel carved into me and crimson red blood began to flow out of the incision.

Yet, when I was young, I was still under the influence of anaesthesia and there was no pain. Why? Because I spent my days getting into naughty acts, playing and not once was I really conscious of what was really happening. I was asleep. Peacefully resting in deep slumber.

However, slowly the clock turned to when I was 16. It was then that I told myself I had to change for the better. Yet, what I did not know was that with such a resolution came a hefty price. Slowly, the anaesthesia wore out and the sleeping patient awoke.

I started to change. I began to put others before myself and compromising to make others happy. My world no longer revolved around myself but around the happiness of others. When others were happy, I would be thrilled. When others were sad, I would be dejected. Then I began to do silly things. I would constantly think of how to make others happy but little did I know that bit by bit, I was losing myself. I used to be an arrogant performer, gracing the stage and flaunting what I had or had not. Yet, slowly I was reduced to an audience, to watch the shows of others and accord them the applause of encouragement.

I began to serve others and sometimes I even remarked at how selfless I had became. But deep inside, I knew I was dead selfish. Everybody has a motive for doing something, something they want to gain. To some, it may be money or fame but for me, I always went the extra mile for gratitude. I longed for the simplest "Thank you" for it was akin to a rainbow brightening up the sky. There are people whom I hold close to the heart yet deep down I know I do not have the same position in theirs. I thought I didn't mind for it was their happiness that mattered, but deep down inside it hurt so badly.

The operation is on-going and the anaesthesia has worn out. Every moment brings to me waves of pain and tears that threaten to obliterate me. I might have gotten used to the pain over the years but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt any more. Now, I can only hope some kind soul can stitch me up and bring me relief to the screaming pain.

My proudest tears of my deepest pain

2009-04-08T21:55:00.000+08:00

During my term in NS, I have come to understand that the night is exceptionally scary, especially when you cannot sleep. Its not because of the darkness and neither is it due to the fear of companions that come from the netherworld. Rather, it is because it is especially lonely. The worse thing is that I live with a bunk-mate yet the loneliness still seeps in to corrode my spirits.

When I'm lonely, I start to think of many many things. Some of these reflections have given me insights that I might only stumble across once in a lifetime, yet there has been one recurring one that never fails to haunt me and the very thought of it brings tears to my eyes. It can be considered my deepest wound. As this blog is pretty much unknown to many, to those that happen to stumble across it, my advice is not to read further.

My deepest wound that never really healed properly is the death of my paternal grandmother. Many a time I have thought of her in camp and I have penned down some of the memories I had of her while streams of tears overflow from my the edges of my eyes uncontrollably. I shan't repeat them but maybe just to put it briefly, she left me with her legacy of unconditional boundless love. And that is why I say, "The deepest love is often crystalised into drops of heart-breaking tears".

People say time can heal all wounds yet why hasn't it healed mine? The waves and waves of pain that this wound subjects me to only increases in intensity as time passes and each time it leaves me drained. The pain has long corroded the last of my defences and that is why I never want to talk about her to others in person for I am dead sure tears will roll.

You might ask me then is it because I am ashamed of my tears? On the contrary, I am very proud of my tears for they serve to remind me that my loves for her has only increased since the time she passed away 9 years ago. Yet, these tears of pride are only meant for her wherever she is just as my greatest love is only meant for her. She will always be the lady I love the most in my entire life and not even my future wife can take her place.

Being made use of

2009-03-29T08:12:00.000+08:00

The world we live on is like a tapestry while individual lives akin to the threads. Everyone is woven into another person's life to create this masterpiece. However, wherever there is interaction there is always friction. This tapestry might be beautiful but if we look carefully there are kinks and mis-stitchs in it. It is up to us to iron them out.

In life, I believe that we shouldn't be too insistent on always benefitting. Sometimes, people make use of you to achieve a goal or obtain something. To people I really consider as friends, being made use of is never an issue. The fact that they bother to make use of me proves that I have some value left for them to use. However, please remember I'm human too and be gentle when using me.

"I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams"

If making use of me can let you achieve happiness, please go ahead. If you are my friend, I will be happy only when you are. Just give me a smile when you succeed and it will be my best reward - a beautiful memory I can keep to eternity.

The path that isn't smooth

2009-03-28T12:19:00.000+08:00

I read a piece of Chinese writing some time ago which I found quite meaningful. So I thought I would share it albeit translated into English. I apologize if the result isn't that good.

There was a pair of father and son. The father told the son "Don't take this path in life. I have taken it and suffered a lot of hardship, knocks and failures. This path is definitely not smooth so please do not take it".

Yet the son replies "This path may be bumpy and difficult but you still made it through everything. If you are able to take it why can't I?"

Sometimes, there is no point in telling someone that a path is bumpy, rocky or hard to take. In life, we need to go through all these knocks and hardship in order for us to grow and mature. Going through these made you stronger and in the same way it will make the other person stronger too. There is a limit to what we can learn from others' experiences but what we can learn from our own experiences is boundless.

A person who always takes the easiest path and achieves success easily is akin to a thin tree branch; susceptible to breakage. Only when we suffer a few knocks here and there can we grow to become the strong, thick tree trunk that supports our life.

Libra Love

2008-11-17T23:41:00.001+08:00

This was the third story I wrote but it was about a month later from the first two. The style of it is a little different as it uses Love as the overarching theme right in the front. This story speaks of unrequited sacrifice and contribution and the angst that accompanies it. As to how it compares to the first two, I leave it to you to decide.
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Ever thought whether Love had a horoscope? Well, if it did, it would be Libra because it is like a pair of scales. In Love, there is always giving and taking but the key to it is balance. It is never a good omen when the scales tip excessively to one side and what it will leave behind is a trail of unhappiness and suffering. I was born under the horoscope of Libra. However, I never knew how to strike a balance in Love and unfortunately, I had to endure each and every ounce of unhappiness and suffering this unbalanced scales left behind.

When I first met her, she was not exactly the most attractive person around. She did not ooze copious amounts of charm and neither was she gifted with a beautiful face. To put it plainly, she was nothing more than ordinary. This ordinariness was not limited to her physical appearance; her character was also extremely average. Bubbly, outgoing, sociable and vocal were all adjectives that I would never use to describe her. We were classmates and it was only due to this reason that I even noticed her existence. Through some small chat I had with her, I found out that we totally belonged to two different worlds. We had totally different interests, goals and perspective of life. Also, I was the type of people who could never endure loneliness and always had to be in the company of others. She, on the other hand, was comfortable with being alone and going about her own life. However, Love is extremely magical. When Cupid’s arrow shoots you, there is no way you can escape and that is exactly what happened to me.

Even until now, I have no idea why I was attracted to her. We had almost nothing in common and I am sure to her I was not her best friend yet strangely I began to notice her. Slowly, I wanted to know more about her – her family, her hobbies and what she thought of me. Of course, all these were not done blatantly. I did not have the courage to tell her that I liked her or maybe to put it more succinctly, I was even afraid that she might find out about that herself. I had to ensure that my questions seemed as though they were but passing questions that were linked to the conversation. Although it was tiring having to think through everything before I even strike up a conversation, I was always happy when I got my answers. That was when Love first planted its seed in my heart and yet I had the faintest idea whether the fruit this seed would eventually bear would be sweet or bitter.

To me, she was like a magnet; drawing me nearer every day. When I did not see her, my mind would be racing with thoughts of her. Whenever I thought of her alone, I would smile like a silly little kid but all this made me feel blissful even though she never once displayed any reciprocation. Slowly, I began to sink into this quagmire of affections. I began to fuss over her and showered concern over her. Even the slightest cough from her would get me uptight and I always had to think through whatever I wanted to say to make sure they were sensitive enough not to hurt her in any way. Sometimes, I was very afraid my concern would be too overwhelming and obvious in such a way that she would know what I was thinking. I would consistently tell myself to practice restraint and remember to toe the line of friendship. However, I could not stop myself from doing all these and that was when all the suffering began.

To me, she was everything. Her happiness was all that sufficed. Whenever the environment became quiet, I would strike up a conversation just to make sure she wasn’t feeling bored. Whenever she talked about herself, I would convince her that she actually had quite a handful of achievements just to make sure she had something to be proud of. From the choice of food to type of movies, everything was catered to her interest and soon I even began to forget what I myself liked. Everything she said was etched deeply into me and I could even remember the most trivial things she said about herself such that they mattered more than the biggest achievements of my life. To me, everything was about giving and I thought as long as she was happy, I would be happy. I did not yearn for the slightest reciprocation like a single word of concern for me.

However, that was what I thought. Actually, deep down I longed for at least some sort of reciprocation. It did not matter if I gave one hundred percent and just received back one percent. A single smile or word of concern was what I yearned for but I did not receive even that one percent. All that existed was me giving and giving.

When I was alone, I would think why in the world was I doing all these for? Why was I acting like a silly and stupid person giving and giving, asking for only a smile that she never gave? Deep down I was feeling very tired. Tired of spending my time and effort just thinking of ways to make her happy. On top of that, I felt extremely sad. Sad that I never received a single word of concern from her and my existence was almost negligible in her world. The feeling was like an overflow of gastric juice making my stomach sour and my ears teary. However, I could not stop myself from caring for her and thus this pain only proved to intensify. In the middle of the night, tears would trickle down my cheeks just thinking of my one-sided affection. As the seedling of Love grew within me, so did this pain and weariness.

Eventually, I was totally overwhelmed by all of it. I could no longer withstand the pain and weariness Love was giving me. I was but human and all that talk about giving without asking for returns were but idealistic notions. Today, I decided that I had to let go of this affection. The only way for me to be relieved of all that pain and weariness that was plaguing me was for me to learn to let go. I made the difficult decision to leave her and in my heart it was like cutting the thread that linked us together. However, this thread had already been implanted into me. I had to rip it out of me along with the part of me it was attached to leaving me all bloody and wounded. I knew that for the pain to stop I had to endure this heart-wrenching pain. If I could succeed in doing so, I could remove the lease that was put around my neck; suffocating me to death. It was as though someone held on to my heart and crushed it. Ripping off these affections left a deep gash on me and my whole body was dripping in blood. Beads of tears flowed down my face but I knew if I could leap across this barrier, it would be the last time I had to cry for her.

Hopefully I can really succeed in letting go. If not, this pain will only return to haunt me with ten times the magnitude and when that comes, I know I will no longer have the strength to pull myself out of that quicksand.

Beautiful Eyes

2008-11-17T23:36:00.000+08:00

This was the second story I attempted at writing straight after the first one. I didn't really like it as much as the first because I felt that the emotions were not as thick. Anyway, this one comes with overwhelming maternal love, a grudge and regret.
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Many of my friends have commented that I have a pair of beautiful enchanting eyes. According to them, my eyes seem to twinkle with a life of their own. However, this pair of eyes was never something I was proud of. Conversely, they told of a story of boundless regret and pain – my life story of regret and pain.

I never believed that marriage was something happy because my parents’ matrimony was anything but that. My first memories were nothing but quarrels and disagreements between my parents. I never understood how two people could argue so much. Logically, my family was decimated quickly. My mother left the family in search of a better, happier life. Being closer to my mother, I begged for her to bring me along but she did not relent. She had cruelly deserted me as though I was nothing more than an old piece of clothing. My father died shortly having met with a traffic accident and I was brought to an orphanage where I grew up. I could not accept all these and I cried myself to sleep every night. Maybe it was due to the excessive crying, I soon developed an eye infection and by the time I underwent treatment, I had lost my sight.

After I came out of all the sadness, my childhood was nothing but a flash-flood of hatred. All traces of love were wiped clean and I sank into nothing but a quicksand of hatred for my mother whom I conveniently blamed for my plight.

The deepest hatred evolves from the greatest love

I sought solace in music, using it to nurse my torn soul. I learnt how to play the piano and my talent even caught the attention of the orphanage such that they sponsored my lessons with an accomplished musician. I bloomed under his tutelage and within a few years I was often performing at concerts and recitals. I carved a career out of music and for that I was always full of gratitude for the orphanage.

On one of my frequent visits back to the orphanage, I overheard the director speaking to a person whose voice was strangely familiar. The director was thanking the person for having sponsored my music lessons for the past few years. Upon hearing this, I was not filled with the slightest tinge of gratitude because it was at the same time it dawned on me who possessed that cursed voice.

My breathing quickened as several thoughts raced through my mind. “How dare she come back!” “Did she think she could really make amends for what she did!” I was shivering with anger as the dormant hatred within me erupted from within like a volcano.

I marched into the room and everything hurtful within me exploded. Of all that I said, the sentence that I could never forget was “You gave me my life but you took away everything good from it. You think you can make amends but all you have done cannot erase the slightest bit of misery I went through.” Having said all that, I stormed out of the room and left the orphanage hastily.

For the next few weeks, this lady whom I once called mother tried to contact me to explain herself but not once did I give her the chance to go on for more than three words. My life was no whiteboard which she could just erase off anything that she wrote wrongly. More than ten years ago I dreamt day and night of our reunion but now I realized everything that I dreamt of was utterly wrong. The day I lost my sight was the very day she lost her son.

I went about my life as usual but never once did she stop trying to reach out to me. Her attempts came in the form of explanation, begging and tears. As the days went past, her tries slowly smoothened out the hatred within me. I began contemplating to listen to what she had to say and maybe give her a second chance.

It was at this time I received an excellent piece of news. The doctor I frequented called me to say that he had found a donor who could donate a pair of corneas to me. It was the best news I could ever get – a chance of seeing things again after more than ten years of darkness. The operation was arranged the next day and when I recovered, I finally regained my long lost vision. With this joyous feeling within me, I decided to visit my mother to give her a second chance.

I went back to the orphanage and asked the director for her address. To my question, he solemnly told me something that utterly shocked me. My mother had passed away and it happened only a few days ago. However, before I could come to terms to that, the director told me that she had suffered from cancer but deliberately terminated her treatment. The reason was simple, she wanted to donate her corneas to me. I collapsed to the ground with my mind a total blank.

My mother had decided to repay me with whatever I lost yet her amends left me with the greatest debt of my life. I never spoke a single word to her since the time she tried to make amends. I deprived her of a chance to explain herself but more importantly, I deprived myself a chance to love her again. When I decided to give her a second chance, it was actually a decision to give myself a second chance but now everything was over. In fact, there was no need for me to hear her explain herself. Deep down I had already forgiven her and it was on the very day she had returned. For every bit of hatred running through my blood, I had double the love for her in my heart. I did not need to know whether she had her reasons for leaving me for none of them really mattered. I only wished that I had the chance to tell her the simplest three words, “I love you” but it was no longer possible.

Although I was drowned within all the agony of her departure, I forced myself not to shed a single tear. She had left me with her eyes and I had no right to use them to cry. I had to see the world on her behalf as she was now part of me. I vowed to treasure my life even more because part of me belonged to her.

These eyes told a story titled sacrifice and spoke about regret, pain and most importantly a never spoken “I love you”.

Painful Love, Painful Memories

2008-11-17T23:33:00.000+08:00

This was the first story I actually attempted at writing so it is very coarse. Purely fictional with a tinge of family love
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Like any child, discipline was a memorable part of my life, yet for me it was exceptionally painful – lovingly painful.

As I race down memory lane and my past plays itself through my mind like a black-and-white film, I return to the time when I was about four or five years old. It was then I made my first mistake in life – to lie. Details of what constituted the lie I fabricated have been blurred by age. Afterall, it was but a mistake any other normal child around that age would make and it is only through our mistakes do we learn. However, the way I was taught right and wrong was nowhere similar to how other normal children were taught. I remember my father was furious, or maybe furious was but an understatement to describe him then. Seething with anger, he brandished a bamboo cane and swiftly lashed out at my hands once. As the cane left a red stinging mark on my forearm, I reciprocated with an equally angry look at the person who dealt the blow.

Yet this time what I saw in my father’s eyes was more than anger. I could not discern what there was but I knew there was definitely a tinge of something else. However, before I could extricate the mix of emotions, the next scene shocked me so much it left my mouth agape. Using all his might, my father lashed out at his own left forearm twice. Then with tears rolling in his eyes, he muttered a sentence I would never forget.

“You have erred by telling a lie, but your mistake has showed how much more I have erred in teaching you. You have to be disciplined for your mistake but I will also not go unpunished for my negligence.”

This was so much more painful for me than the physical distress the cane could give me. It seared my heart so badly I cringed as though it was bleeding. I ran towards my father and clutched onto his injured arm tenderly while my small body plunged into his embrace. Tears dripped onto the two parallel red marks on his arm and how I wished my tears could alleviate his pain. However, my tears were no magical phoenix tears; they were but drops of guilt and remorse from a disobedient kid who had hurt his father. At that moment, I felt something dripping onto my head and I did not need to look up to know that it was my father’s tears.

Only when two people cry together do they understand how much they love each other

For the rest of my childhood, I was often praised by others for being an exceptionally obedient child. Some jokingly said that it was because my parents were strict disciplinarians and I was fearful of the punishment that awaited my mistakes. They were absolutely correct. I was very afraid. I was afraid of the punishment my father had to endure for my mistakes. For me, the ultimate torture stemmed from the pain my mistakes would inflict on my father. I was not strong enough to bear such a pain, a pain that transcended the normal caning or grounding plaguing the average kid. For those many years to come, I was also never strong enough to face that.

We were two entities but our pain was one

Twenty years later, my father is no longer around. However, the cane that he wielded twenty years ago on that fateful day still hangs on the wall in my room. Whenever I see it, I remember what my father has left behind for me – his legacy and teachings of love and pain, intertwined into a bamboo cane and crystallized into drops of tears……

Was it pain or was it really just love?