Saturday, 26 December 2015

Who Am Me?

Church or club

I don't believe in God, but I believe in certain lifestyles.
The party lifestyle is not one of those exactly.
Not college parties, which are with friends and are cheap af really.
But the kind of party like zouk out, where the truth is all I can imagine are people, not bad people mind you, but people spending money to drink and dress and sweat(?), and yeah I guess I can''t escape the prejudice I have of them - entitled and rich. It was this dissonance I was trying to unlock all along, because parties in USA are different than in SG. In the east, the new rich chase after westernized culture like sheep; and this isn't true, or isn't representative - this is what the 'right' way of thinking goes.

And I hate dissonance.
I hate wrong representations.
I hate dishonesty, insincerity, hiding, acting... I don't know.
I hate that a bunch of rich guys can be served by poor(?)/less wealthy locals in a resort - and I hate it that I'm completely unsure what they are thinking. I don't know if they are putting on a show for us, if they hate their job, if they are envious, the small talk(?) The relationship is just different, between a snowboard instructor for example, we can be on 'equal' terms - yes I'm probably more well-off, but he still gets to snowboard and I'm humbly accepting his instruction as a pupil. Then there's the waiter/waitress - and maybe this is just Singapore - we hear their plight; the cliched movies of a hard day's work at the diner. Is it just Hollywood? Are they truly happy? What do they think when a rich businessman pulls out a wad of cash on a drink? Are they disgusted or do they think they would do the same with that much money?

And this was what I was uncomfortable with all along... er maybe.
I cannot stand getting what I get - I did not deserve this. Why am I the person ordering $40 steak and why is the waiter 'in service' to me. Or am I just looking at it the wrong way - I mean, they too get their days off, and they have times when they are being served steak; and it's not like we are bad customers, we aren't at all snobbish or impatient - that I hate the most when my mom does that sometimes. The 'you are serving me' attitude that Asians have.

Point of disgust number 2 - those resort adverts, showing a bunch or rich people drinking champagne on a yacht, relaxing on the beach. I guess it's just a symptom of capitalism. The money goes into a valuable number of jobs in the service industry after all.

Number 3? Younger brother - I really want to know what he thinks, what he's thinking, how he's growing. Something awkward because my elder brother has never really asked the same of me(?) we were too different people maybe. I get this feeling I got more of my dad's character than my elder brother because my dad is reserved, likes rock music, and is pretty down-to-earth in a way.

Or maybe I'm just really really tired, and I just need a simple, real conversation - and my family will never be able to provide for that. Sometimes I wonder if I should just go to CAPS; not because I'm depressed - pretty dam sure when the caffeine gets rolling the hypetrain goes full steam - but because it probably would help.

Or just open a wing in the CAPS office called the friends division - for anyone who just wants a walk-in deep conversation. I feel like this torrent of words ain't going to end for some time.


I just lost all my energy.
I guess I just don’t ever feel good doing fine dining. It’s a little childish for sure. But I really, really frown upon the whole culture of ‘elite’. And I guess I do believe my elder brother is in part the kind of arrogant, entitled swine that is apparently ‘sad that people don’t know how to dress up’. But then I’m reminded of the uncomfortable feeling I got not wearing a full formal suit for Lambda Chi’s formal. A little hypocrisy there. Then again, there’s a difference between eating just with your family (so really, who the fuck cares if you’re wearing a T-Shirt if there are no restaurant nor social rules to wear a shirt?) If it were up to me… ok goddam it I can’t concentrate with TV on, people in the room, and my thoughts running away as usual.

God I hate it when I have racing thoughts and no way to record it. Pretty much what happened in the steakhouse, a combination of disgust with throwing money away for at best slightly better food, and the caffeine running low, and the alcohol, and just the un-enthusiasm. Sometimes I wonder, incredulously, if I’m adopted, just because I’m so different. I hate privilege, and that’s why I hate me. I just feel undeserving at the moment. I just always see that homeless man, that poor family when my family spends this much money on what I think are frivolous things.

Monday, 21 December 2015

Time Slows and Speeds at the Same Time

Ok disclaimers.

On pretty strong stuff right now, and I don't mean I'm sitting on a beach whale.

I mean, marijuana of course.

I just wanted to sort of self-observe? (and document it)

Time is perceived to slow down by us, because we're moving at a much slower rate. My typing for example, although it may also be for noise reasons. Yet this means time is actually speeding up -> that is, our actual perceived rate of time flowing (and its closeness to the real thing) remains consta

Current thoughts: I wanna know oh oh oh, oh oh oh, if you'll be my girl, just for the night (with your consent!) -> related to Joe Biden's amazing speech btw.

Current current thoughts, my sense of angles is all fuzzy and shit right now. Turning 180 (almost said 360) Ok What, do I just hop it to bed right now?

Maybe I've been cross-fading this whole time.

Pretty obvious.

Thursday, 17 December 2015

What do you want?

I explained to Xin Yi the party culture in America and advised her to ask herself what she wants.

And though once I knew, it's obvious now I don't.

Just cycles and cycles.

There has to be a pattern, a policy.

I'm greedy. I want the company of close friends and the excitement of making new ones all the time.

And let's be honest here (as always), Chin Yee's question at my birthday party (where are the girls?) hurt a lot. It's obvious why I don't have many close female friends. Or maybe it's not. The point is, my subconscious has been trying to 'fix it' but because I know this, I actively work to un-discriminate and see things clearly, without prejudice. That pretty much sums up everything I do. And I guess I live on encouraging feedback and my own stubborn stoicism to continue some ideal approach to the world while being pragmatically cynical about reality.

An aside. I'm new to snowboarding and learning was fun as hell but goddamn the fear of falling and losing control is in my head right now and it's really debilitating.

Damn. Re-reading that passage above reminded me of that time in an art exchange where I basically took the initiative to bridge the gap between the boys on one side and the girls on the other. I was perhaps naive, or beyond my time. Or whatever. I can't help but feel this goes way back to that time I confessed to Zhen Ting.

Where does that all leave me?

I relish experience. All of it. I want to understand, to empathize, to amass a collection of perspectives. I want to be everybody's friend. And it irks me that I can't find a group that treads the line between extroversion and introversion like me. I can't find the oxymoronic 'welcoming clique'. At 20, you church or you club... or you be lonely.

I love the connection of face to face, but I'm uncomfortable with it's insular nature. I should join CAPS or something.

How could it be that just a few months ago my mind was so open, so comfortable, yet now all I could see were the same old prejudices.

She still eats me. I hate drama.

When I try to be everybody, I become nobody. Where are the shape-shifters?
Photographers are ultimately, loners.

Tuesday, 15 December 2015

Another Night

I had to post just simply because it was the proper first time.
Probably a little too much from Samuel Barker.
It was another good conversation with Alex and I confess I really like captive audiences... now that I think of it that sounds awful. Christ. I just meant when you're forced to engage with someone for longer than 1 hour, you can expect a flood of personal questions from me.
I just like to know you. I just like to know your story.

Monday, 14 December 2015


I just wanted to acknowledge with all my heart how relieving that conversation was with Alex. And yes, I will take that advice. And I hope you enjoyed mine. Thank you for being a friend.

I wrote this a few days ago. It's just a distant memory now maybe.
If only you'd know
I'm just playing along
I always thought
I'd end up with you
That took so much restraint.

Stuff I wrote on the plane ride. I never filter, you know that. Honesty is my highest ideal.
He knew, and I didn't
My strength is in initiative
Yet I had no knowledge
The incredible frustration
Of knowing your inexperience

It's a lie after all
Kissed her while she was drunk
But I the better(?) man, truly
The nice guy who finishes last

Fucking quit in frutration
I can't get it out of my head now
If that wasn't a sign to move on
Nothing is.

If I knew I would've, but no.
I ask for too much.

What do I do know?
Keep it to myself,
Or brood like a child.
Soldier on.

I'm racist. It is a tragedy truly. If only I'd met someone like that.
What does it mean to drink, dance, and look at each other waiting for a move?
I don't want everyone asking is just why.

Is this what it means to reach for something higher?

Should I rush?
Since now I know..

Sometimes I feel like I can change a little too much and what I want just contradicts so deeply with what I can do. Can this pen truly write endorphins and morphine?
Impressions; fuck 'em you don't know me.

But that was it wasn't it, he was a perfect representation of frat but he's not. But I don't want to be associated with that. - Oh darn there's a part here I can't even read my own handwriting - Hopeless romantic.

A great reform(?) is due.

2 Hours
2 Hours on a flight to Denver
2 Hours to get over you
2 Hours before touch down
2 Hours of just solitude

Too soon again will I be forced
To mingle, to meet and to smile
Too late to go back and change
To someone who foresaw this denial

2 Hours to be at peace
Too many hours too few
2 Hours with no answers still
Too little to put my life in review

#87 Bus Rides
I probably never had a problem with public transit because... 1. Singapore's system is pretty good (and so is Chicago's) and I guess more importantly 2. It has always given me time to think, to listen to my favorite instrumental tunes...and yes, the deep conversations that I love to have 1 to 1, are the brightest spots.

Monday, 7 December 2015


Guess I needed one.

But now the empty spaces are just filled with music.

No, I actually just want some deep conversations now.

Maybe Singapore was just more tumultuous.

Maybe I'm more at peace now and so I don't have anything to say or do but watch the sunlight.

I've retired my blog title to the bottom. I don't want to ever remove something like that, because it's still true. When the music stops the blood will flow back, don't you worry.

Saturday, 5 December 2015

Back to writing

So I haven't written in a while and that may have caused some damage.

Holy shit, my roommate is sleep talking. In Beijing mandarin.

OK anyway. The cycle always continues.
I need, I must write.

So questions.
How do you know, if (she's) people are just throwing you a bone? And is that ok or no, to try and override your feelings with 'values'. And I wish I knew why, and I wish I should have asked. I let her know, and she said no. So I'm 'ok', because I'm respectful. And if I lose in the end, was it worth it?

I'm cold, and I've always wanted to cuddle. I want to know, how you feel, how you think, how you touch. And your laugh, is annoying as hell, but I love it all the same.

I should have wrote this sooner but it's always like this, tired as hell.
Climbing, got so far, where am I at now? Is it square one?

What I miss, whom I miss... Hai Qing, Amanda, Jia Le, Ben. Why? They were spontaneous. They were leaders (minus 1). It wasn't meant to be, and there was no 'cool', there was no judgement then.

So I'm observing the fishbowl, the American fishbowl, but I'm also in it. Now for sure. I can get out at any time, but then the fishbowl is really where it's at.

I can be anything. I can be the drinker, the awful dancer, experiencing and fitting in. I can crawl back to my cave in loneliness but contemplate, and for all I know, the wiser.

God, I hate correcting my English now. Must be the lingering effects of writing my paper.
I felt like writing a poem. But just now. And yea I guess you can't hold on to the fleeting feelings.

So now I'm recalling. Hendrik's blog. Ying Yue's blog. Gwenyth's blog. And mine. Maybe I should change the top banner? But I wanted to leave a legacy. I want to embrace and hold on to a past.

And I've changed. I'm remodelled maybe. I don't exactly know. I'm back to school, after the army.

I didn't finish my #100. I forgot where I left off and what I have left. But I guess I have new numbers now :)

My roommates troubles are now truly my own. What's keeping me from just being a dick? Argh. I'm just so frustrated. But I couldn't stand it. I always need to be the lone ranger, the hero. As if it put me on a higher position. Is that what I want then? To always be on some higher ground? I need to handle being humbled tremendously. To be wrong. And yet when I showed vulnerability, it was 'a put off'. Fuck you mel. But dam you taught me a lot. Correction, sorry that was mean. It's not her at all. It was just me, being a massive asshole.

The human condition is weird af. I feel like these are just over-done, overcooked, over-fried thoughts.

I'm just not sure. And I'll learn to deal with the darkness.

Congratulations. I'm at Northwestern.

Monday, 13 July 2015


Gracious me.

After checking twice, I still managed to fill my address wrongly.
Now my college has been sending stuff to the wrong address for months.

I'm blogging because I'm feeling a very very specific, intense anger/frustration that can't be directed anywhere except towards me. Argh.

The only thing I can do now, is to move on of course. But hell, this hurts. I'm trying to figure out though, where this is really coming from.

I mean, why am I angry?

Is it that:
1. I expect to be perfect?
2. The mistake was rectifiable way before but I brushed it off?

Ah. There it is, I need not go on.
Here comes the rant.
1. I am pretty pedantic as a person -> I read my contracts, check boxes only after reading (except terms and conditions, I mean who does that right), I read and re-read at least once, any applications I send.
But I guess, that was a lie right? I mean mistakes happen, and I think I was just deceiving myself. I'm innately careless -> so I began over-checking -> Nature fought back -> I forgot why I over-check -> I I began to believe that I was innately meticulously -> I stopped being a prick (an excuse, at that) -> CONSEQUENCES.

Argh. OK. I'm going to take it nice and easy here.

So I was a bit of a prick, but I can be careful without wasting time, by checking the important bits, once through as well.

Gotta move on, my gosh. I am feeling that urge to tell someone about my first world problems. Argh. Shit. Goodness. Bad. Want to smash things and drum. Or maybe Koreans at starcraft.


Thursday, 25 June 2015

The dissonance grows

The contradictions you see everyday.

It's why I found the SEP field in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy one of the best lines ever written.

I'm leaving this here so I don't forget to talk about it later despite that I would have already, by then, lost all my strength to talk about it.

Saturday, 20 June 2015

#88 Time to Think

I've been blogging much less since I started working and my laptop (macbook) dieded.

The reason for this is that I don't really fight it as comfortable or conducive writing in the open (i.e my family walking around, lots of distractions, not in my room) and I have stopped staying up to truly ungodly hours (nor does it matter since my two brothers stay up as late).

But I've been wanting to write. So much. And so this post is for #88. All the precious pockets of alone time to think and write.

Tuesday, 14 April 2015

The Expensive Son

Now that I sort of lost my scholarship chance (Barring drastic changes to my school/major), I'm officially the most expensive son.

I feel extremely helpless. I don't like to rely on my parent's that much, and the fact is my brother signed on partially for a scholarship.

Where do I go from here, what do I do from here, why and how did I get here. I had a lot of questions and anxiety this afternoon after lunch break, which was evident in my mood because my colleague noticed. Not that good at hiding, don't have much practice. Eh. I asked a lot of questions, and maybe it would have helped if I had time to reflect right after I read that email.

I have to decide, if I'm willing to sacrifice. Or accept the kindness of strangers. Marcus, the ever cynical, was more helpful than Glenn, honestly, in this case. He reminded me there's always someone who's better than you. Maybe I put too much pressure on myself, maybe I've lived with self-placed burdens I've forgotten how to live. Instead of being unhappy at being privileged, isn't it more tactful to be happy I can afford a college education overseas? It's embarrassing, but I find consolation in this: that because I'm going on my parent's savings, I'll work my ass off to make sure I don't squander it.

This is the least I can do. I am not a Jia Lok. Or a Glenn. I'm a tad lousier than that. I have needs, I have selfish needs.

Sunday, 15 March 2015

On my feet

I had this thought.
That right now it's a transition phase; for sure, before university begins.
And then what?
What if after I graduate... I feel the same?
What should I look forward to, besides tomorrow's cup of coffee?

O and maybe it's time I change up my blog a little?
Just had another thought.
The day when one of my future american friends stumbles upon my blog.

Tomorrow I start my temp job, a bit frightened that they expect me to be able to do some complicated excel manoeuvre ahhhh. Other then that, I'll just be looking forward to: Nightwish, Stephen Wilson, IEHAC, Witcher 3, AC5. (This is why I don't make a great boyfriend... or maybe it makes me an easy boyfriend??) 

Also, driving stinks.
If there was a way to see the trends of my blog post tags... it'll be cool. Plus I can see my 'angst' label go down... right?
A bien to!

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Tusk doesn't play from behind

Said I wanted to try a fun hero. And Wei Qi drafted it... in a joke line-up. Well can't blame him since he doesn't understand Tusk, his strengths, etc. but the mentality, just sucks. Pick a fun hero cause it's a 'chill' match am I right? Nobody expects you to win am I right? So why pick a hero? Sickening thing about Dota to me is 'the meta'. It's gotten better of course, with more heroes being picked professionally. But there's always this OP hero that everyone just plays all the time. And then there's this irony, you see. That you're angry because people are just interested in winning by playing the meta, but then you get disappointed when you don't play the meta and you lose. What were you expecting? The underdog to win?

Friday, 6 March 2015

#89 Slippers

The Singaporean uniform is shirt, shorts and slippers. My favorite outfit of all time. And way cheaper too. I mean Zara is nice but come on.

I decided to write tonight because I haven't in a while.
The days have gone on... and sincerely they've just been like NS... transitional, routine (but hell 'uva lot more fun). I'd wish for something different, but I threw that away. 

Unfinished and incoherent stuff.

My oddities keep me sane.

I think about days past,
And only remember the worst. 
Signs of a perfectionist,
A regretful curse.

Tuesday, 24 February 2015


#90 Art Friends

Like salt and citrus, we need a daily dose of eccentricity. Not to keep us healthy but to keep us from being stale. 100% no regrets joining Art Elective at this point. There are only certain friends you can say the most random things around and not receive stares but equally random replies on the same wavelength. Where conversations follow the law of entropy.

I'm afraid somewhere along 50 something I'll repeat happy things by accident! -> this would be both embarrassing and SAD. And to avoid that, I'll have to... write a list! 

u.u <-- a="" div="" emoticon="" has="" me="" new="" thought="" xun="" yi="">

Wednesday, 7 January 2015


I remember a scene vividly when I was P4.

I was staring out my bedroom window and thinking to myself, I'm such a lazy person.
Suddenly I thought, but what if I'm not?
It's a curious thing about the malleability of a child's mind. From then on, I pretty much did all my work soundlessly and my parents bothered me the least from there (also I had a younger brother and middle child syndrome :<).

Now every time I think about applying for scholarships I get this mental block. I've tried to think about it and as I get over it, I learned the nature of it could perhaps be from:

1. You keep thinking you'll fail -> so you'll never do it out of fear.
2. You keep thinking you have time -> so you'll never do it out of lack of fear.

Jeez, what a contradiction. I'll always do it in the end. O how I dislike uni/scholarship applications.