Saturday, 30 June 2007

Check this out...if you're bored

My personal favourites from the Men's:

1. Alessandro Dell'Acqua

2. Bottega Veneta (most of them)

3. Calvin Klein Collection (the suits and beige collection only)

4. Costume National (pants, and one particular model slide 14)

5. D&G (models, esp 14, tops, horrible footwear)

6. Dolce & Gabbana (some- the non-business wear)

7. Dsquared (the caual wear, bags, models, slip on shoes)

8. Emporio Armani (the non-showing belly ones, bags, cardigans, model 45, slide 55, model 65, top in slide 67 and 68, slide 74 to 83, 90 to 103)

9. Giorgio Armani (slide 5 to 7 and 27, accessories and collarless tops, pants of slide 67)

10.Gucci (everything- down to accessories, espeially model of slide 15 and 23)

*11.Hermes (it spells me! my knida style!)

12.John Galliano (the entire collection plus the models! do they come with the models?)


14.Louis Vuitton (slide 14, 17, 29, 49, 54)

15.Marni (minus the ridiculous hat)

*16.Moschino (it spells me! my kinda style! and model 13 and 33 are cute)

*17.Paul Smith (slides 40-4,51, 59-64)

18.Raf Simons (different, interesting, eccentric)

19.Roberto Caxalli

20.Salvatore Ferragamo (slide 4,8,11,13,18-23,34,34,40)


*22.Versace (needless to say)

I find solace in the way designers piece together their collection.

Love y'all

Externalising the internal

Never would I have imagined that one day I'll become who I am today.

It's sad that I don't get what I want. Needless to say, need. He doesn't give me what I want. Instead I'm compensated with things which I don't like or will ever thought of.

I seem to be having somekind of Creator-Created war with Him. We don't seem to be on the same page a lot of times. It's frustrating knowing that He is running my life. For those who believe that a person is in control of his/her life and responsible for steering his/herself to wherever he/she wishes to head, well then I hope you're not an atheist 'cause you seemed to forget about The Divine intervention bit. I've stressed on this quite a few times. And I cannot say enough. One on side of me is the "you-are-in-control" voice and on the other is the "you-are-being-controlled" voice. It's hard to hear either 'cause both are yelling to make themselves heard. And this internal war happening in my head is perpetuated by a larger battle occurring concurrently, but at different scale. The war of Good vs Evil, God vs Devil.

Although God is not directly involved in the war- unlike the Devil that comes to you and whispers things into your ears, persuading you to switch over to his side- the magnitude of the struggle is gastronomical. The one at risk is my faith. My faith is thoroughly shaken; to the point where it almost crumbled. I am scared, I won't lie. I am absolutely terrified of being abandoned. On that note, who isn't?

Also, there seem to be somekind of struggle to be in control by these two sides. Being in control (monopolysing) gives power. And having this "power" would mean that the "control" gets stronger. It's a dangerous snowball effect. So the cycle gets bigger and stronger, leaving me- a mortal with little capabilities to fend for myself at times such as these- hapless and trapped. The larger the circle grows, the further I get pushed into the center. Hence, more trapped I become.

This is how I am feeling these few days: trapped. I feel trapped by the unspoken rules and laws of society, family and self. And since they are unspoken, it's difficult to talk about it as I'll not get a reply. The matter will be silent, and rest in silence. It has become tougher for me to fight and be resilient but easier to succumb and wither. It's a beautifully entwined matter that forms a vast and formidable labyrinth; complicated and not understood. What should I do? What can I do?

Fortunately, I am trapped but not lost. This means I can still find my way out. It'll just take a long time. But the matter will gradually, but surely, be solved (takes a big gulp, I hope). Some say that there are no problems that cannot be solved. The rest are satisfied with the contrasting school of thought: some are simply too complicated and arduous that it's better left untouched. I still don't know which school of thought I'll go with. I cannot simply conform to the majority's view or the view that is seemingly easy just because they appear as safe. It's a peril in itself. One wrong step and I'll be sent down the cliff.

Ironically, I feel unconnected yet I find solace in Him. Thus I believe it's a good sign that He still cares for me albeit the crap I say about Him. I know he hears me. He just doesn't reply, well not immediately at least. So I don't know if what I'm doing is right or wrong? Can it be condoned? I am of course referring to matters lying in the grey line. Grey is not a good colour. It's so bleak and morbid, and confusing.

I don't think I'm a good boy anymore. I'm a naughty gentleman now. I can be two-faceted at one time. I may appear nice but I'm not on the inside. I can smile yet repulse you. I can take on two personas at one time. If you think it's cool, I'll tell you it's despicable. I'm despicable. Maybe my problem lies in me; I welcome them though I wish to keep them away. I am good yet bad. I'm sincere yet untrue. It feels disgusting to be under my skin right now.

Each time the heart pumps, oxygen gets transferred to microscopic area of this body. They take over the place of the previous oxygen that has been reduced to carbon dioxide- a substance that is no longer needed by the body 'cause it can cause harm. The same substance that was once required is replaced once it's benefit has been used up because it now harms- just like me.

Prior to realising how bad I am now, I had a wake up call. The call was to inform me how innocent and naive I have been, simply giving in to other's request and wants and licking their boots and sucking their balls. Now, I suck and lick balls for fun and toy with my new toys to have it my way. I give them what they want, and take back when they least expect through force and manipulation of words. I have it my way, or you'll get more than what you ask for: suck you till you bleed dry.

Kind of remind me of Stoker's Count Dracula and Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. These are interesting Gothic Literature books to read by the way.

So in a way, I'm like the grotesque and the femme fatale. A beautiful doll of perfection that slowly shows his inner evil in such subtlety as the story unfolds, rather than having exernal ugly features which is a classic way modern Gothic writers present the grotesque compared to the conventional portrayal of the outer physical grotesque by early Gothic writers like Shelley hence illuminating the true sense of the grotesque. And also a Jezebel that draws a Man to his death- Jezebel here doesn't refer to only its modern context, Man here refers to those who have or will ever exploit me and Death could mean more than its literal meaning (go figure).

It's fun being the new me. At the same time, it feels horrible. I am simply joining the two contrasting entities together- like the cusp found on the windows of many churches. Another typical Gothic feature.

The Gothic is about juxtaposing the dichotomies, drawing out the sense of uneasiness and uncomfortable to create an almost sublime feeling. I, therefore, would represent the epitome of a Gothic anti-hero. I guess that is who I am: an anti-hero- someone who has the capabilities of doing good but choose to be otherwise. For my case, the addition bit is that I try to be both at all times and keeping a low profile when among the society at large. I don't wish to become a vigilante. I just want to be me. The problem is, I still cannot find me. I'm still in search for me; and answers to help me get out of the labyrinthine passages in my mind. God please help me. Answer my prayers and make it known to me, please.

Love y'all

Wednesday, 27 June 2007

I want it changed! Any chances?

I officialy dislike the vocation I'm posted to. Reason?

Why can't Mindef let us choose which vocation we want to be in? If they don't want us to complain and be happy for the rest of our NS life, then let us choose what we want to do. That way, even if we had made a mistake we have ourselves to blame. Maybe it's because they want us to learn how to appreciate the things that we have- such as freedom of choice. Having those ranks form a superficial hierachy in which we all have to conform to. Let me highlight the imporatnt word in the previous sentence: superficial.

Ok, I know that if the wrong person read this I'll be in hot soup. But this is my blog. My views. I did write a disclaimer, isn't that good enough? Besides, I think I'm pretty sure about this thing call the freedom of speech and expression that this democratic country practises. Also, I think it is a good feedback and suggestion. It's for the betterment of the society at large.

Back to the matter, will there be any chance that I can change the vocation I'm in? As a private I know my stand and boundaries. But I can be driven to insanity if I were to stay any longer. I am not kidding. This is one matter I am not making a joke of. Please! If anyone out there can hear me, please help me make the change. I need the change. It has become more of a necessity than a luxury.

And on a more macroscopic level, I think there are some things in my life that I do want to change. I will take it slow. Change will happen slowly, but surely. One, I need a set of new wardrobe. Two, I need to fix my demeanor. Three, I have to change my recreational activities. Four, I need to start saving (at least $30 for a start and then gradually increased- I want to go for a holiday with my friends end of this year). Five, I have to brush up on the basic grammar of the languages that I know and to pick up a new one.

Lastly, I would like to apologise those whom I have wronged. I cannot remember when and who but I know that somewhere along the line I did tick some people of. My apologies to all. Sincerely from me. I'm sorry!

Love y'all

Monday, 25 June 2007

Dreams do come true...FOR SOME, NOT OTHERS

"Fairy tales don't always have a happy ending, do they?"

Been listening to Fergie's "Big Girls Don't Cry" lately and the above line is my favourite. It aptly summarises the FACT that all of us do not get what we want, less what we have always dreamt of. Of course Caridee, winner of ANTM Cycle 7, or Fantasia can say that "dreams do come true" and those who watched will immediately get spellbounded by these magical words unknowingly fooling themselves into believing that anything will be possible if hard work and dedication is put into making the dream real. That is because they had gotten what they have been dreaming of. What about the other contestants who put in the same amount of effort, maybe even more, only to know that they do not get what they have fervently pursue? I bet this is exactly what Melrose felt when she lost to Caridee.

Perhaps we seem to forget about The Divine intervention part. This is the crucial part. If The Divine dictates that you will not get to see your dreams materialising, then there's nothing else that you can do to change the decision. It has happened to me a lot of times; too many to count. Still, let me list some out:

1. I want to learn how to sing. Since I wasn't born with the gift, I plan to take up lessons. But before I could save enough, the money will have to be used for some family-financial thing. Happened more than thrice, at least.

2. I want to learn dance- be professionally trained. Since my parents are strongly against this, it's futile asking them for money, even support, so I had to find my own way. The problem is, I cannot afford those classes. They will take up more than 80% of my pay.

3. I wanted to enter VS and VJ. Studied so hard, but still cannot make it.

4. I want to enter SAF MDC, but I can't. My application wasn't successful.

5. I want to perform on stage one day, but that dream isn't coming anywhere near the light. Worse, it's slowly sublimating.

6. I want to get an MP3 player and a camera. From the looks of it, I'll probably get them after my uni years.

I don't think I'm being pessimistic, fatalistic, or cynical. Instead I believe I am being realistic. I am getting tired of dreaming. I don't think I should dream anymore 'cause I'll only keep disappointing myself. For the first few times, I become more motivated. Now, I become wiser and decide to let it pass. If I still fail after a few attempts despite increasing my ardent enthusiasm, with the hope that I will score better the next round, I am dropping it and moving on. It's pointless.

"I for seek the darker head, if I stay"

I am not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, to use a corny phrase. In fact, it is getting dimmer and darker. I am losing all source of light. Maybe this is how it's supposed to happen.

Since we dream when we sleep, and the longer and more interesting our dreams will be when we sleep longer, perhaps then I am moving towards the correct "light". But I don't know. I will never.

"I know I have left too much destruction to come back again" (White Flag, Dido).

Each time I get back up after tumbling down with disappointment and frustrations, I feel that I have left a mess behind. My mess. The mess I tried so hard to avoid. The mess that is not supposed to happen; not supposed to be there. But I inevitably made it and eventually getting tired of cleaning it up, making the mess worse. I am simply getting myself entangled and entwined in a web of distraught and and scepticism. Unwinding would be futile 'cause I'll end up getting back into the mess eventually. So just let it be!

Just like how I am leaving my dreams to boggle around in the virtual realm. Currently, none of them is worth being brought to the real world and given the wild goose chase. So stay in the mind will they be. Afterall, that is where they are from thus they should be left there and not disrupt the laws of nature by shifting them into another dimension that they are not able to live. According to the book of laws, murder is a punishable crime by the penal code. I guess I have been paying my dues (the disappoinments and feelings of dejection and despondent) by The Divine for murdering those innocent dreams. Naughty me! Hence, naughty boys get punished. Now i learn my lesson.

Don't dream too much, or you'll become like Pak Jenin- he fell off the coconut tree because he likes to dream and unfortunately he didn't make it through the fall and died (it's from a Malay Folktale).

Love y'all

Sunday, 24 June 2007


One word: Angst.

The End.

Love y'all

Enjoy this song:

Wake up Call


I didn't hear what you were saying.
I live on raw emotion baby
I answer questions never maybe
And I'm not kind if you betray me.
So who the hell are you to say we
Never would have made it babe.


If you needed love
Well then ask for love
Could have given love
Now I’m taking love
And it’s not my fault
Cause you both deserve
What is coming now
So don’t say a word


Wake up call
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed
Don't you care about me anymore?
Don’t you care about me? I don't think so.
Six foot tall
Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead
He won't come around here anymore
Come around here? I don't think so.


Would have bled to make you happy
You didn't need to treat me that way
And now you beat me at my own game
And now I find you sleeping soundly
And your lovers screaming loudly
Hear a sound and hit the ground


If you needed love
Well then ask for love
Could have given love
Now I’m taking love
And it’s not my fault
Cause you both deserve
What’s coming now
[Wake Up Call lyrics on]

So don’t say a word


Wake up call
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed
Don't you care about me anymore?
Don’t you care about me? I don't think so.
Six foot tall
Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead
He won't come around here anymore
Come around here?
I don’t feel so bad, I don’t feel so bad, I don’t feel so bad


I'm so sorry darling
Did I do the wrong thing?
Oh, what was I thinking?
Is his heart still beating?

Woah oh ohh


Wake up call
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed
Don't you care about me anymore?
Don’t you care about me? I don't think so.
Six foot tall
Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead
He won't come around here anymore
Come around here anymore? I don’t feel so bad

Wake up call
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed
Don’t you care about me anymore?
Don’t you care about me? I don’t think so.
Six foot tall
Came without a warning so I had to shoot him dead
He won’t come around here anymore
No, he won’t come around here. I don’t feel so bad

I don’t feel so bad (Wake up call)
I don’t feel so bad (Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed)
I don’t feel so bad (Don’t you care about me anymore?)
Care about me? I don’t feel so bad.
Wake up call
Caught you in the morning with another one in my bed
Don't you care about me anymore?

Friday, 22 June 2007

Driven to the Age of Insanity

You would think, no expect, that having lived for nineteen years the time has come for a boy to become a teenager. Let him make mistakes, step on toes, get into trouble, be naughty, come home late, burn his pocket, come crawling back for help, forget his principles for a moment or two, chill with friends till late (or very early) and enjoy saying these words:"I told you so!" when he comes leopard crawling to you.

I still feel imprisoned! As if I'm still nine. I ask you ah, is coming home around 11pm close to 12am normal?

I'm getting tired of being the good boy with innocent image. I feel devoid of doing things that spells SIN. I still haven't clubbed, done enough shopping, play guitar under the block, get fake tattoos on my arms and stuff along the line. Am I a good boy?

Listen to the pangs of frustration from a distraught young boy. I'm chatting with someone from Taipei now and he's twenty and he calls me a BOY!? On one hand it makes me feel young and sweet and innocent. On the other, on a rather microscopic level tugged deep within me in a puny little Pandora's Box, I don't want to be a boy. I'm fine with calling me a cute boy, or handsome kid, or funny chap- no chap cannot, makes me sound like Robert DeNiro or Anthony Hopkins...maybe child? ya...that's better- but not just boy. Because I still have an ego to inflate you know. A boy sounds...sounds...sounds...pathetic. Like calling me a geek. A boy will not get hot and naughty peeps to dance with you. I ain't that bad of a geek ok. I am lah to a small extent, like a quarter of a quarter of a quarter of a quarter of a...(you get the picture lah huh)...of an inch a geek. But I want to grow. Mix around with the big boys. Do something thrilling and exhilarating like being part of a massacre (haha I am afraid of a few drips of blood and I want to create a massacre, please be realistic Ruzy), go to a charade party or visit New York and stay with a local. That will be nice.

I wanna go out and do everything! Everything, something, anything!

Yesterday went Sentosa with Abby, Daryl (YC), Daryl (HL), Zhi Yu and Zili. I didn't bring what was necessary. Needless to say, be prepared and dressed to the occasion. Ya, talk about being an idiot. Suppose to meet at eleven, but they all came at twelve. Eventhough I fervently tried to be late- took a long detour, very slow walk, purposely took my time- and still reach there at eleven sharp. Haiz...what is wrong with my punctuality? After we had enough tanning and waddling in the shallow (only the two Daryls and Zili went into the water), we decided to leave. It was about 3pm.

Abby had to leave, so we said goodbye and thank you (since it was his idea) and sorry (because it wasn't as fun as he had expected it to be). Had a short lunch at BK. Then Daryl (YC) and Zili had to leave. So Daryl (HL), Zhi Yu and myself went shopping at Vivo. I'm glad I can help choosing their wardrobe.

Went home to change and leave for Jevon's party. Thanks Vonvon for inviting. I had a great time unwinding and chilling. Of course the others were his ex-classmates la. But hey, making friends was the name of the game. What a night it was. When I reached home I was dead beat. So going to sleep was easy.

And today; what interesting thing have I done today? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing! I am being driven into the age of insanity man. I am rambling and spouting nonsense. What or who I am kidding? I AM IN THAT AGE ALREADY. I think it's the age in between boyhood and teenagehood. The transition period you can call it so. Pretty cool. Stressful, but cool. I think I can pull through. I mean I am living with a mom who is in that zone. This unexplained and frustrating zone that she is in. I guess she is also in that age. Hahak. Gosh I wish I can have the will to put up to it. Hahak.

Love y'all

Tuesday, 19 June 2007

Money can 'buy' opportunities

I had a talk with Shahrin the other time over dinner. He's s great guy: smart, intelligent, talkative, insightful and mature (well he is going to be thirty next year). And he made me reconsider the plans that I have made in the future, especially what the ones I have when I enter university.

I told him that I would like to try out odd jobs- like working at coffee bean/waiter- after I graduate and he just snapped at me. Of course it's a ridiculous idea, that was why he snapped at me. But I don't know why I wanna do them. I gave him the lamest and most pathetic, not to mention stupidest (to borrow a term), reason that it will help me understand the character(s) that I will be playing. Ya, talk about stupidity. Such profound level of intelligence you can say.

To cut the story short, and save me some face, he advised me to do these jobs during uni- as a way to help fund myself. To take some business modules and join a club that allows you to be interacting with people from the business district. Firstly, so that I can be familiarised with the way the corporate world works and secondly, for networking purposes. Why didn't I think of these before?

And he told me that money can buy me opportunities. With money I can pursue what I like, take up extra courses to improve myself, and live. There's no such thing as working for the job and not the money. All of us are working for the money, to some extent. And I need to be mindful of that. Thanks to him, I feel more matured and ahead-thinking. I will heed his advice and I think you all should too; that's why I'm sharing it with you guys. =)

This will be my shortest entry. Will blog when I feel like it. Don't know why, no mood to write and read these days....Anyway,

Love y'all

Friday, 15 June 2007

"Feeling Good"

Been doing lotsa reading these days, Atwood's books of course. Since now I got loads of time to spend doing nothing- finished my BMT last Tuesday- I might as well indulge in reading and food and afternoon naps. The more I read, the more I'm in love with her.

Especially when there's jazz music being played in the background. I bought this collection of jazz music last Wednesday at HMV. So sexy. Jazz is so sexy. Explains why I'm feeling kinda horny most of the time these days.

It feels weird to be horny. Don't know why the sudden urge for sex. Before I go to sleep, these fantasies will be playing in my mind. Even had dreams of it; don't worry I wake up dry everytime. Especially the song Unforgettable by John Pizzareli. It really makes you feel good.

Went on retail therapy last wednesday with Izzy at Marina Centre. Sorry girl for being super ultra late (close to an hour late ok, no joke). Decided to watch movie and supper at Esplanade but something took its toll and we, ok fine I admit that it's more of me than her, ended up buying a few apparels at Giordano and Samuel & Kelvin. Bought Apple Crumble at Secret Recipe, to be eaten while we talk about stuffs at the benches at Esplanade. It was a good night.

Then just now went to check the balance in my bank account which made me stop breathing for a few seconds. I'm left with $20 for the rest of the month. I spent about $360 in total in two days. Simply appalling. Shocking. Terkejut beruk. Terkencit cair. Stop. Drop. Roll. Play Dead. Retail therapy is bad for your health. It's ranked second after drug addiction and smoking (which share the same standing) in my opinion.

Checked my email just now. Sigh...I got rejected to SAF MDC. I knew it was coming. So wasn't that crushed; just greatly disappointed. However, on a completely different tanget, I got accepted to the USP Programme at NUS. Good thing I read the rejection email first though the acceptance email was higher up in the list. Smart eh? This is what I call the sixth sense. enlightened.

Now I got nothing else to mull about. I'm back to my old boring apathetic life. Life's a wheel. It goes around, and comes back to slap you in the face when you are least prepared. A'Keys is right.

Love y'all

Thursday, 14 June 2007

Things that keep me grounded

My imperfections:
  1. My head is small, my body is big. Therefore I look interesting- beautiful (not being irreverent).
  2. My arms look skeletal when I walk (noticed it in the mirror recently).
  3. I have a tummy; flabs- cellulite strongly glued around my waist.
  4. My face isn't baby-smooth.
  5. My ears are quite big.
  6. I'm a sloucher, as a result of practising bad sitting posture and that people around me are not as tall.
  7. My hands are big so I look weird when placing them on my face.
  8. I'm quite schizo, erratic lah to use a better term.

My blessings:

  1. I have close friends who understand me, better than my parents do.
  2. I have money so I can live (shopping forms a major part of it), and no longer survive.
  3. I have my own space, despite sharing a room with my brother. He has come to understand the need and importance of keeping the room tidy, giving me my personal space and being more mature and resposible.
  4. I can tell stories and be tactful.
  5. I have a home.
  6. My life is rather stable; I am in control.
  7. I got into a school: Chem and BioChem at NTU.

My wants:

  1. To be recognised as an actor, and not a himbo.
  2. To be known as a good person.
  3. To have my own place at Bukit Timah.
  4. To travel extensively, Paris Hilton style.
  5. To make my parents happy and worry-free for most part of their lives.
  6. To meet great people and have a conversation with them.
  7. To know that I'm always with Him.

Love y'all

Tuesday, 12 June 2007

Stop Talking...Shut Up!

Errgh. How is it hard to shut the fuck up, you tell me? HUH? Is it so hard to let the muscles in your mouth and your lips to stop working temporarily and your brain to disengage the speech capability button?

I have enough of people yaking in my ears for a day, ok?! ENOUGH! I don't you mom to be nagging at me on simple stuffs like washing my clothes, where did I go, where am I going, have I done this, have I d0ne that. I might as well turn back the clock and go back into your womb since this world is so harsh and difficult to live in. Rimas tau! RIMAS!

Orang tau la nak buat aper. Tak yah nak tanye banyak-banyak. Bingit tau tak! Bingit!

Being concern is one thing. Being compulsively protective is another. Watch the line cause you're driving me insane with your insecurities. Please, give me a break and space. I cannot be shaded all the time. Is it wrong to go out in the morning and come home late at night? Your second son does that and he's younger than me. If you wanna compare us then let's...
  1. I made it to JC but he...I don't know.
  2. I've not gotten into trouble with the law but he has quite a few times.
  3. He makes your blood boils while I try to simmer you down.
  4. I do his share of work while he enjoys and helps bring in the money. Well now I'm bringin in the money too, what else can he do?
  5. I give in and do loads of shit work while he gets away with them often.
  6. I put others before me, unlike him.
  7. A small mistake I made gets magnified while his major problem gets shrunk to a such microscopic level.
  8. I know how to pick my friends, but does he?

If you want me to turn against you...then your wish will be my command.

  1. I can start promiscuing.
  2. I can pick up smoking.
  3. Go clubbing and take glasses of alcoholic drinks.
  4. I can be more insolent than him.
  5. I can do things that you won't imagine.

So you want me to? Seriously, if you want than ok. I can start now. I can go out to some gay club and get fucked by countless number of horny and rich men who don't mind becoming my sugardaddies. I can throw away the future you so hopefully want me to have now. So you want me to? Come on...tell me!

And my sister...she has to stop talking too. Her voice is getting fucking irritating and she's down right rude. I've not slapped her yet. Don't make me do it till she becomes dumb. Mind your words missy. Another nonsense from you right now and they could be the last thing you will ever say.

And also people whom I am close to. All the others...I need my own time. My own space. I believe that at the very least, I should be given my own personal time and space. And that means no form of disturbance. Let me simmer down on my own. Is that so hard to ask?

And all these noise made by pushing and pulling the furniture around the house. Clanging of metal utensils. Stuff dropping on the floor. I just want SILENCE!


So that I can hear my own breathing. My own heartbeat. Feel the cold air brushing against my skin. Prayers in the background. Ya, forget about it being complicated. I am complicated. deal with it. No need to think and worry too much. I'll figure things out myself. No advice now. I'm still irritated and not in the mood. Please. See, i'm even begging.

Today was the pes A/B POP, not the pes C one. Pes C no POP because we are not worth it. Only the "background and back up support people" as we are deemed to be, to use euphemism. Our training isn't that intensive so you'll get a Piece of Cake (POC) instead since our training is a POC. Errgh. I feel so exploited. Seeing the thrill that other recruits feel after their POP fills me up with envy and disappointment. Not only that, we get to go home later than them today cause we have to clear up after them. And the enthusiastic parents didn't help either. They choose to linger around the place even after the POP; making it hard for us to start working and thus delay our book out time- from 1730 to 1930. Yup, a very short extension what. It doesn't matter. Who look at the backside? You only use it to shit and fuck what.

I'm terribly terribly irritated today. So please shut up. Stop talking, thank you!

Monday, 11 June 2007

She left us

It's not easy to forgive others, neither it is to forget. The people who have been in our lives, stay. Their gestures, quirks, idiosyncrasies, and behaviour will linger on. Despite the pain of knowing that they are only merely images in our minds now, we don't want to let them go. As I said earlier," the pain of separation, in a way, makes me feel good...(it's) the only thing that I can hold onto."

Although I will no longer hear her sweet soprano voice singing Hindi songs and contagious laughter again, I will not forget them. They will be on "playback record", so that my memory of her will still be fresh.

It has been 7 years since I last late grandmother, 3 years since I last saw my granfather and a couple of hours since I last saw my late grandaunt. I booked out of camp last night when my dad broke the news that my grandaunt just passed away on the phone.

A few hours passed so quickly. It made me realise how easy time moves on and awaits no one, and how short our stay here can be. So "don't regret living life", don't "live a life of regret." Although it is easier said than done, at the very least lose your grudges against others and forgive them, be less temperemental and hot-headed and be more calm and accomodating. It's actually very difficult to appreciate who and what we have, but tremendously easy to take it granted. Never underestimate the importance of this overrated advice.

I would wanna say my prayers to those who have left me, and extend it to my friends and relations. May we end up with those whom He dearly cares for later. Amin.

Love y'all

Sunday, 10 June 2007

Writing, Talking and Reading- a problem?

I realise that I love to write, a lot. None of my entries are brief. They are all so long. I myself don't understand why because how is it possible that someone who often gets punish by his English teachers during his school days for making countless number of simple grammatical error develop a strong liking for writing? Shouldn't he be having a strong aversion for it instead? What's worse is that he aspires to be a writer one day! Weird huh?!

And I don't like to talk about simple boring mushy-mushy stuffs. I prefer to be in a conversation that makes me think. The kinds that are debatable such as politics and philosophical enqueries. Of course not all the time cause that will be boring and annoying. But I was not like this not too long ago. Why have I become this person?

Is this trully me? Is this the same Ruzaini who has been walking around for the past 19 years and plus plus months? Is this really me? Who is this guy? I don't seem to know him anymore. When I look into the mirror who am I looking at?

I sometimes feel disgusted at the sight of the face that is looking back at me. I dislike how he looks because of the way he is. He is a beautiful creation but why can I see that? It fills me with anger and sadness to be looked at the boy/teen/young man/man in the mirror. Who, or what, is being reflected? Why is it painful to see the person who is looking back at me?

And the habit of reading: why and when did I pick it up? Why have I chosen to be an avid reader? And why pick out books that are intellectually stimulating? Am I being someone whom I am not or am I growing, metamorphising, into someone whom I want to be? Is this the man that I am supposed to be or choose to be? It's very confusing.

And why now? Why only now am I facing the matter? Is it even a problem to begin with?

Why? When? How? Am I going to be schizophenic for thinking too much? God, friends,!

I cannot recognise myself in the mirror anymore. I don't feel him though he is real and tangible. Have I trully changed for the better so that I can have a better future since the previous Ruzaini seemed to be going on the failed future path. Is it even safe, this new route? Is it a safe route? Am I grooming myself to be someone whom I want to be, as how society has subtlely influenced and dictated as, or someone who I should be? Or is this my choice, a bonafide innate desire?

Questions, questions, questions: will the be answered? Can they be answered? Should they be answered?

I'm slipping back to my previous Ruzaini: an introverted social reject. Is this why I decide to change? So that I'll be in the public eyes, always? But I hate being stared at in public, just like everyone else. It makes me feel so naked and exposed. I'd rather get noticed and forgotten. I am content that people give me a short acknowledgement rather than long ones.

Interestingly, I like this new me as well, sometimes. He is someone whom Ruzaini can only dream of becoming and wish hard for it. I am not him. I am Ruzaini. So who is this other guy?

Am I living a double life? On one hand it's the wannabe and on the other it's the real deal. The question is: how can I tell them apart? Ruzaini doesn't like reading but this other guy does. Ruzaini cannot act and has no interest in acting but this guy does. But this guy is also called "Ruzaini." So is this guy really Ruzaini or is he just using the name? Borrowing it for life.

I don't know. I'm confused, irritated, annoyed, despondent, dejected, angry; a mixture of emotions wheeling around.

Is this the process of changing from childhood to teenagehood, or teenagehood to adulthood? Is this normal? Am I going through a self-renovation or what?

Anyway, just wanna say that yesterday (look at the date on this entry), 090607 was my Mom's and CT's birthday and a fun day. Went out with Astri, CT and Izzy. Had loads of fun guys, or gals. Thank you so much for it.

Love y'all

Saturday, 9 June 2007


I read a book a few years back regarding the remedy for sadness/depression/despondence and the likes (I'm sure you can think of the vocab yourselves) is to indulge in it. As preposterous as it sounds, it does seem to work; though it took longer than I expected it to. I am using it again. I have been indulging in sadness for the pass few days in camp, wallowing in the solidarity and sober mood.

Two of my sergeants have left the company: PS Faizal (aka SGT Loverboy) and 3SGT Wei Yan (who was from TJC from 2004-2005; aka SGT ... (haven't thought about it yet))- I coined them FYI. It was very hard to say goodbye. They did try their best to hold back their tears when giving their farewell speech. I didn't tear, of course, simply because I was still in shock. I felt indifferent till the next day when reality hit me. It was then I realised how melancholic it can be. Their last day was last Friday actually. See how long it took me to get over the emotion? I couldn't blog about it last week as I felt nothing.

And then last Tuesday, I think, 3SGT Jamil (aka SGT J - again I coined the nickname) ORD - that means he has completed his 2 years in national service so he won't be coming back, like forever.

Now only left SGT Imran (aka SGT Immy - I coined the nickname, again) and PC Ian Lo. It's simply saddening. They were our "brothers, fathers, mentors, friends and buddies", to quote Zhi Yu. I dedicate the song Umbrella by Rihanna feat Jay-Z to them:

Rihanna Umbrella Lyrics

Jay-Z:Ahuh Ahuh (Yea Rihanna)
Ahuh Ahuh (Good girl gone bad)
Ahuh Ahuh (Take three... Action)
Ahuh Ahuh
No clouds in my stormsLet it rain, I hydroplane into fame (Rihanna: Eh eh)
Come'n down with the Dow Jones
When the clouds come we gone
We Rocafella (Rihanna: Eh eh)
She fly higher than weather
And she rocks it better
You know me
An anticipation for precipitation, stacks chips for the rainy day(Rihanna: Eh eh)
Jay, rain man is back with lil Ms. SunshineRihanna where you at?

You had my heart, and we'll never be world apart
Maybe in magazines, but you'll still be my star
Baby cause in the Dark, You can see shiny Cars
And that's when you need me there
With you I'll always share

When the sun shines
We’ll shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
That I'll always be your friend
Took an oath Imma stick it out 'till the end
Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we still have each other
You can stand under my Umbrella
You can stand under my Umbrella (Ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)

These fancy things, will never come in between
You're part of my entity, Here for Infinity
When the war has took it's part
When the world has dealt it's cards
If the hand is hard, Together we'll mend your heart
Because ..

[CHORUS] [Umbrella lyrics on]
When the sun shines
We'll shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
That I'll always be your friend
Took an oath Imma stick it out 'till the end
Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we still have each other
You can stand under my Umbrella
You can stand under my Umbrella (Ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)

You can run into my
Arms It's okay don't be alarmed (Come into Me)
(There's no distance in between our love)
So Gonna let the rain pour
I'll be all you need and more
Because ..

When the sun shines
We'll shine Together
Told you I'll be here forever
That I'll always be your friend
Took an oath Imma stick it out 'till the end
Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we still have each other
You can stand under my Umbrella
You can stand under my Umbrella (Ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh)
Under my umbrella (ella ella eh eh eh eh eh eh)
It's raining (raining)
Ooo baby it's raining baby come into me
Come into me
It's raining (raining)
Ooo baby it's raining
You can always come into me
Come into me......

(Do pardon some of the irrelevent lines, where were we? Yes...)

And Passing Out Ceremony was just now. It was basically an informal speech by the OC. Pretty boring if you asked me but the period after that wasn't. It finally hit me that I will not be sleeping, eating, fall in, have fun, water parade, waking up with these people whom I have met, got to know and interacted for the past 6 weeks. It's not just 6 weeks. It's 6 weeks of bonding. These people are now in my life. Each of them is beautiful in their own way. The Ah Bengs and Pai Kias are very good and fun-loving people. They are understanding and not as bad as they are deemed to be. I had a very good time getting to know all of them. I will dearly miss all of them, including the non-Ah bengs and Pai Kias. Good riddence, stop tearing Ruzy!

So now it's time for me to indulge. Faute de mieux: wallow in. Either way, I'm gonna dwell in the matter. Prolonging the pain of separation, in a way, makes me feel good. It's the last and only thing I have left of the good and bad memories I have of my BMT life. The only thing that I can hold onto. I want it to properly sink in: that I have ended my BMT and now to move on to the next phase of my Army, and, life.

Moving on...It's so much easier to spell it.

Many have advised me to "not live a life of regret." I try to heed the advice only to realise how foolish I have been. Unless you are an Oracle and that you can fathom the future, how would you know the outcome? Yes we can think of what would happen, but is it something that should happen? If an accident is bound to happen, it will happen; regardless how cautious the victim is, wouldn't you agree? A road accident can still happen eventhough the driver is careful. You are bound to hurt the ones whom you cared for dearly no matter how much you try not to. You can still die even if you are fighting fit. Perhaps then the advice should be: "don't regret living life" because only then can we "live a life of no regrets." This is the missing link I have been searching for.

Similarly, I have not found "the link". Hence, I cannot move on. I have not come to terms with it yet. Maybe after this entry I will be better, maybe it will take longer. I don't know. However one thing is for sure: I will not leave it behind. As a math student, allow me to draw you a simple equation of the complex:

My future is the product of my past being multiplied by its exponents, added to the division of my present subtracted from the many possible permutations. The probability of us meeting in the future is dependent on the difference between the level of confidence and the level of significance. If the difference is small then the chances are higher. Otherwise, it's vice versa. Hypothetically, both need to be high for the highest possible outcome to happen. However, the formula will be greatly affected by factors such as luck, friendship, time and money which are hard to predict. Thus due to the volatility of the situation and condition, the true probability will be very much lower than expected. It will almost tend to zero. Hence, the rise of my worries.

Now can you see why I cannot move on? It's more profound than simple math equations. And being an emo freak doesn't help a bit. Neverthless, if I bank in on luck and fate things might just fall nicely in place like the game of bricks. You'll never know how many "tiu-tiu-tiu" sound might be heard.

As I still cannot get out melancholy, I might as well indulge in it. At least indulgence brings pleasure. And then, hopefully, a happy ending.

Love y'all

Saturday, 2 June 2007

Fucking Va-JJ

How stupid can some people be? Like seriously man! How fucking stupid can some mother son be?! Idiotic jerks! Whorish bastard! Mongrels!

It was area acleaning again just now in camp. As usual, we have to do area cleaning before we book out. It's a routine. And you would think that by the fifth, coming sixth, week people will learn. But no! Nothing gets registered in their ultra thick ego-centric minds.

I had to clean the toilet because that is my job, I'm the toilet assitant. Well not exactly a glamarous job but hey, someone's gotta do it. I gotta clean the urinals that they have stenched with their urine and the toilet bowls that some fucking assholes have been to and totally forgot to flush. Plus the muddy boot marks they seem to have deliberately left behind as evidence that their fucking feet have stepped inside the toilet. Well fine. All of us have to answer Nature's call when it phones. But what happens after you put down the phone? The 10cents coin drop into the place where it's suppose to be. Fuck the name. Can't be bothered to think about it.

So naturally, after you shit you flush. Well bastards don't. That's why there are people like me who have to do such degrading job left undone by such scumbags. I was in to toilet for about thirty minutes. Cleaning practically every surface area that is visible and trying my hardest to get rid of the smell. Thirty minutes later, the smell is gone and the floor is clean. I was very satisfied. The two of us (two people were cleaning the toilet) were happy so we feel that it is safe to leave the toilet and trust that the others can maintain the cleanliness. It was fifteen minutes to stand by area time and I'm still not in my uniform. The area outside the toilet was wet so I had to dry it. That took me ten-ish minutes. I purposely take the extra effort to ensure that the area is almost dry so that for once the sergeant will be more pleased. It was something that I wanted to do for the platoon. I sincerely did it. But now since I'm telling it and bitching about it, I feel so dumb being sincere. So nope, I no longer feel sincere.

Sergeant came up and inspected the area. My bunk wasn't really dust free. The people inside seem to have forgotten to do some things right. And because I wasn't there, those things were left undone. I'm not being a show-off but some of them can't get their balls rolling. They just hang them and expect me to roll their balls for them. What to do, I'm the section whip ba. It's ok.

Now the toilet.

He called for the toilet cleaners. We went. He opened the door and showed us the floor. I think that either Hades must have dropped by and rewind the time or some mischievous ghost who wears several pairs boots of various sizes was playing catching with his friend who might also be wearing several pair of boots of various sizes in the toilet just before my sergeant's inspection. Yup. Must be either of these two choices.

At that very moment when I saw the condition of the floor, I felt that time has stopped. It just stop ticking after going back to the time when we returned from field camp with our muddy boots. This was how it looked like: Muddy boot prints nicely decorated the flooring while a pungent aroma slowly fill up the room. Yep, just like that my name was tarnished. Thank you guys.

Thank you for the birthday bash and the water parade (this one is where everyone was drenched: we were playing with water). And thank you for this. How can I forget? You guys gave too much. It's bound to be remembered. I understand that you and I need to do work. You need to dirty while I must clean. It's all fair. All's Well, End's well. Maybe next time you can try to shit in the floor and vomit into the urinals and'or the showers? That will be more fun. Yay!