Stone Cold Cold Stone

REM has just finished working on our advertisement for a Cold Stone competition. Thanks to Ezekiel for the reference and Josiah for the acting. We're far from done though as we move on to a second advertisement for the same company. I'm also going to need a good microphone for future shoots so I'm going out of the way today and spending some big cash to get one. If you see me on the streets, you can try to rob me. If you succeed, you can buy yourself some nice stuff!

Ramblings

The one thing good about my blog is that I can get things off my chest. But in that is also its weakness. I don't need people telling me 'I feel your pain' cause you don't. I don't need anyone saying 'I'll be your pillar' cause you won't. That's why, I find that it sucks to be me sometimes. When I look at others, I envy them. To simply put it, they are simple. Their worries in life dials down to the next day and they can go through everyday, enjoying and complaining about the most trivial things.

I'm self analytical, that's the problem. I won't humble myself down by saying otherwise. I'm smart, hopeful and have the ability to do things I want to. But at the same time, lazy, unfocused and basically scared of what I know is coming for me. In my mind, I see myself, twenty years later, still fat and pathetic. I wake up in bed, alone and drags myself to the same laptop I'm using now and begin racking my brains for chapter one of a novel that will never see the light of day. Unemployment also comes to my mind.

Now, during the most uneventful part of the holidays, I go to bed with a mind rattled with thoughts. And I realized just how alone I am. Growing up, I was virtually alone. My family was just a circus of fake smiles and my mother was hardly ever home. I never denied I had a deprived childhood because that's not all that far from the truth. Watching television to kill time and exploring that large mansion I called home, climbing onto rooftops and watching the cloud go by, these were how most of my childhood days were spent. Even when I'm taken to the park I was alone. Riding down the hills at top speed only to go up and down again. Even while in childcare I would be found by myself during nap time. Wandering the corridors and eavesdropping on the conversation held by the adults. Yes, my childhood was lonely, I can't describe it as anything else.

Now that I think about it, I'm scared. When I lie in my bed at night, all alone with the rattling sound of a malfunctioning fan, it dawns on me just how close I was to going back to that dreadful life. It is the first time since a long while, when I've truly felt such unyielding fear. I'd scream my lungs out into the walls of the room only to have them bounce right back to me and this pressure keeps building up within me, telling me I'm alone, unloved, and that would be how you'll stay until the day you die. Even though I had accepted that possibility, I still find myself, kicking and screaming and pulling my hair out as I laid in the dark confines of my room. The silence and the lack of warmth drove me insane.

I've never been hugged, or kissed, not even a light peck on the cheeks. I can't remember ever crying into someone's shoulder or even when was it I last held hands with a person who cared. I don't recall ever going and leaving school with a friend or the slightest inkling of being noticed throughout my primary school life. I do however remember being punched and kicked. I remember the cold steel pole running down my back as I was being tied to the netball post. I remember hiding in the small corner of my room, holding back my tears as I watched my drunk father scolding my mother with my sister as a baby, crying in the corner. I remember how while in my father's car alone, I was told of my step family. Two news only came after I entered primary school. I was told that my nanny, who had cared for me and my sister so much was not on vacation, but was fired by my father. I was then informed of that my great grandmother, who had cradled me when I was a kid had not gone to Malaysia but had passed on. Those were not things a seven year old should be hearing.

After that, my dad switched my school and I had to leave behind my friends. From there on, I had to endure through four years of emotional hell. I could endure the beatings., the constant dragging through the mud every recess and even the cruel names used on me. I learned the word 'fuck' when I was nine. The worst part was, until Primary 5, I was thrown aside in everything. I had no teachers who supported me. The principal never believe a word I said. My father would scold me, be it right or wrong. Somewhere along that line, I think I cracked. Sure, if you look at it now, my life is great. Friends, family, they're all there. But, I remember just how easily that thread cut be cut, and I'm afraid. I put a distance to everyone I know cause I'm afraid that if I ever have to go back to the God forsaken place again, I'll be hurt so bad I'll die crying.

But the biggest thing on my mind, as with anyone my age is finding a girl. What am I suppose to feel here? I don't know. I've never had that feeling being pushed on me or out from me before. I don't know what I'm suppose to do. Is it really all that it's cracked up to be? Will this person really stay by your side under all storms? It sounds nice. But...do I deserve it? Do I even know how to give it?

Argh! This rambling is getting me nowhere. I'm going out for a run!

H@(K3D

I'm fine with the occasional grammatical and spelling mistakes. I can even tolerate to a certain point the incomprehensible acronyms used. However, when people who have the time to get a level 80 paladin or play Farmville non-stop can't even bother to attempt to write proper English because they are lazy, or can't do it even if I put in the effort to write to them all proper, that's where I draw the line. Thus, I have written a letter to all you bums out there to decipher and to teach you something. For those who actually takes their time to at least spellcheck and are reading my blog for pure amusement or insight to my life, you may, try to decipher the message and have a good laugh. Due to blog coding limitations involving spacings, you may copy and paste the letter onto your notepad application to better read it.

D3@R J@CK@5535,

Y0U5 MU5+ B3 W0ND3R1N9 W+Y TH3 H377 1'M TYP1NG L1K3 TH15 R1GH+ N0W R1GH+? W377, 5331NG TH@+ 1 R3FU53D T0 DUMB D0WN MY C0MM@ND OF TH€ 3NG715H L@NGU@G3 +0 5U1+ Y0UR H@LF A55 N33D5, JU5+ L1K€ H0W M05+ 0F Y0U R3FU$3D +0 WR1+E B3++3R F0R TH3 S@K3 0F HUM@N1+Y, 1 D3C1D3D +H3 B3$T W@Y +0 9E+ Y0U GUY5 T0 TYP3 1N PR0P3R 3N9715H 15 +0 M@K3 Y0U F337 WH@+ 1 F337 13Y WR1+1N9 1N H@(K. Y35, I (@N WR1+E H@(K. N0W, U]\[L355 Y0U KN0\/\/ H0W +0 R3@D 0R WR1+3 H@(K, WH@+ Y0U'R3 F3371N9 R19+H N0W \/\/0U7D B3 H0W 1 F€€7 WH3N 1 R3@D Y0UR S0 (@773D 3N9715]-[. 5U(K5 R19H+?

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Flashes

As a child, my father had high hopes for me in following his footsteps. And truth to be told, I nearly did. Somewhere along the way however, he made a mistake. Something that shook me awake from reality and into a dream. From that day on, life was different, changed. I began to watch, to listen, to feel and the world started to develop infront of me. Three years of seclusion and learning to listen and to see before speaking. I changed.

However, things came to a head a year and a half ago. I could still remember, that day on the hilltop where the wind could not reach. Where I gathered, faced with a battle I had not intended to fight. That corny speech he gave before the fall of the hammer, oh I remembered that too. For a moment there, I nearly swore to myself I'd rip his head off for saying those things. Words which at that time, I was sure he did not understand. Honor, friendship, loyalty. Bullshit. He fought not for those, but pride. He's different now though. No longer the same. Changed. And for him, I hope it's for the better. The last time I saw him, his eyes were different and his aura was calm. So different.

We cannot hold a torch to light another's path without brightening our own. ~Ben Sweetland

Still, the truth was, on that day roughly one year and sixth months ago, he was me. Or at least, everything I could have been. Proud, determined, smart, handsome, and sporty, everything my father wanted me to be. My polar opposite. I don't know about others but watching my mirror image before me was more frightening than anything I've ever faced. Looking back now I don't think I was fighting merely to ease the girl's suffering. And definitely not to help my friend with his troubles. I think I went to that hill, with full knowledge of the possible punishments and consequences of my actions, so that I could see this perfect persona of me at his fullest.

I remembered thinking, We were so similar. Fighting on our emotions and doing anything to keep our beliefs. As he threw the first punch, I realized how easy it was to beat him into a bloody pulp, as I had done with others on occasions long ago. Than the names Leon, Cedric and Dominic flowed into my mind and an emotion that was oh-so familiar filled my heart. Hatred. In that single cumulative moment, without me knowing it, I had won. Even though I had to endure the constant beating, I did not fight back. I took on every hit without fighting back and upon further pondering now, it seemed that it ended with me being the bigger man, or so to speak.

The first human who hurled an insult instead of a stone was the founder of civilization. ~Sigmund Freud

When I was in primary school, I was told that all skills could do good. Didn't really make sense to me until recently. I was told by a teacher that my greatest ability was my uncanny skills to manipulate people. Back then, I thought that meant I was a sneaky conniving bastard who pulled people as puppets. On that day however, it become clear to me it was something more. Mood and emotions, they were my strength. Having conquered them as a child, I find myself able to change the mood of a situation just by playing a part. As I left the hilltop with mocking laughter at my back, I knew that even though I bested him as a man, the situation would continue to worsen. So what did I do? The only thing I could. I went back, and fought again. I laughed through the whole episode. For some reason, the mood lifted. As if pure laughter and light heartedness changed their views, even in the heat of a fight.

He'll always try to be the hero, even though he's not. That was what my teacher said about me. Personally, I would have prefered if she had just called me an idiot and expelled me. Hero. I've grown a disliking of that word when used on me. Be it a wannabe or for real, I don't think I ever want to be a hero. So the whole ordeal was over, and things quietened down for awhile. At what price though I wondered. She blamed herself for what happened, and he continued with his possesive nature. Things only came to a full stop when my teacher stepped in and the entire drama was finally over. Sadly though, the damage was already done.

The hero is the one who kindles a great light in the world, who sets up blazing torches in the dark streets of life for men to see by. The saint is the man who walks through the dark paths of the world, himself a light. ~Felix Adler

Broken hearts and torn friendship was hard to mend. And once again, in an attempt to douse the flames, I threw away another chance at happiness. You didn't need a heart, you needed a hand. It takes 37 muscles to frown, 22 to smile. But only 4 for proper trigger pull. It wasn't the first time that death had so warmly opened its arms in welcome of my eternal slumber. But it was a first for me for I had been on death's door, knocking with a blade on my wrist. Cold steel. Tempting. Didn't do it.

I didn't asked for much. Just a smile. A simple smile would have sufficed to all the thanks that was given. A single punch would have been easier to handle than a frown. I watched from afar, a silent guardian, fallen angel and rejected devil. Grey. A smile, that was all I wanted you to have. But I wasn't able to give it. A dream, that was the happiness I held for a fraction of a second. Yes, the answer to a question which I was never able to ask. To be more precise, didn't allow myself to ask. Memories, the only things remaining, from a time where dreams were true. But such is the outcome of walking my chosen path, a road where the light and darkness of neither twilight nor dawn could touch.

True, I could have chosen the path everyone has taken. But what then? I would just become another one of them, a clone to an endless army of who someone wants you to be. No, even if the cost is pain and suffering, my road is as clear as it has ever been - which of course, is shrouded in grey. For it is my path to open, and my fog to wade into. The scene behind the mist will be shown clear when I have accomplished what I had set out to do and who I had left behind and became.

Rant One: Family

Note: After reading a letter posted online, I am now inspired to write down all my frustrations in rants on my blog for the world to see, laugh and critique. Enjoy.

Dear family, you are all idiots.

Younger sister who has poor time management, Shower more. You may not know this but wearing your school uniform from morning till the second you sleep is disgusting. Considering the hygiene level of some of Singapore's educational facilities, I am shocked you did not just jump straight into the tub the moment you reach home. Also, your permanent PMS mood, though interesting, is highly retarded. Not to mention that most of the things you blame/scold/hate people for, are your fault. Scolding someone for repeating a question is okay. However, it is not fine to scold them for repeating when you did not reply the first time round.

Elder sister with mentality of an eight year old, Grow up. The world does not revolve around you so stop trying to make it so. It is not mature to say you're not going out with your family because you A) have important work (facebook) to do or B) was not told prior to the event even though we specifically reminded you of and C) you have a busy schedule. The manager of a company has a busy schedule. A school teacher has a busy schedule. Yet for some reason, these people still manage to make time for their families. A volunteer worker like yourself who can choose when to work and when not to and spends most of your time at home, does not have a busy schedule.

Older cousin who I suspect has hair cancer. You talk too much. I am not your girlfriend so don't touch/talk to/treat me as one. Stop caressing my arm when you get home and stop using that homosexual voice while speaking to me. I have ears and thus, it is not required to make physical contact with me every time you wish to speak with me. I have a name for a reason. Also, you use 'hair care products' as if you're trying to create the ultimate pizza on your head. Please try to stop. It is disturbing and to a certain degree, grotesque. Your pillow has become hard as a rock and the fur on your CJ7 soft toy now resembles that of a lion's mane after going through a thunderstorm. That's saying something.

Dad, you stink, literally. You reek of alcohol even though you drink little which leads me to suspect you shower less. You annoy me to no end but treating me as if I'm four. I'm seventeen. I speak better English and am a fanfiction writer. Do not try to show off your command of the language to me. It does not help my already dysfunctional impression of you. Also, I am not gay. Slapping my ass in public is not cool. When I am doing actual work on my computer like writing and school projects, I do not understand how you could arrive at the conclusion that I have been playing computer games for the past three hours. Lastly, I go out three days a week and I stay at home for the remainder. How you are able to utter sentences such as 'you should go out more' and 'why are you always going out?' on the same day is beyond me.

Dear mother, I respect you. I love you. But I cannot stand the fact that you treat everyday life like a business. Personally, I have never met anyone who is able to spend half an hour talking about how we're going about laundry duty. Neither do I see the need to split the duty between you, my cousin and my sister in the order of wash, dry, iron. At the same time, leaving the duty of cleaning the house to me, the one guy who is rarely at home, considering the hours in which I return from school. I am seventeen. Little sis ain't so little anymore and my cousin is in his late twenties. It is laundry. Stuff shirt in machine, hang shirt, wear. It's that simple. And we do not change clothes like we drink water that we require laundry duty to be carried out once every two days. The only thing missing from our last family 'talk' was a official contract. With that, I am quite certain that we could set up a decently profitable cleaning agency.

Deteoration

No matter how I try to look at it, my physical and mental condition seems to have been on the downhill lately. I'm experiencing insomnia like I've never before. It's 3:46a.m. now and I'm tired as crap. Yet, my eyes refuse to close. Not only that, I've been having vivid dreams lately that I can only guratee would lead me to more day time Deja Vu experiences to mess with my already damaged mind. Before I continue, there's this quote I found from an unknown author which I found quite funny. Yet at the same time meanigful. A little something to chew on.

This is a story about four people named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody, and Nobody. There was an important job to be done and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it, but Nobody did it. Somebody got angry about that, because it was Everybody's job. Everybody thought Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn't do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anyone could have. ~Author Unknown

Physically I'm getter weaker and I find myself stumbling left and right and unable to balance at certain moments in time. Not to mention my body has been slow in responding. I barely made it through sword class last Saturday. No focus, nuts. Got hit so many times I've lost count and it took alot out of me to actually concentrate during the only sparring match I won. I still can't properly place a finger on what's happening but I hope it's just a passing fits. There's still so much I want to do and if something terrible were to befall me before I could acomplish them, I'd be quite devastated.

When people say to me: "How do you do so many things?" I often answer them, without meaning to be cruel: "How do you do so little?" It seems to me that people have vast potential. Most people can do extraordinary things if they have the confidence or take the risks. Yet most people don't. They sit in front of the telly and treat life as if it goes on forever. ~Philip Adams

Aside from my failing health, it has also come to my attention that the human race has also been deteorating at a rate far more alarming than I initially have thought. A friend of mine introduced me to some weight loss program shit which I promptly refused, saying that I'd rather do it the 'old fashion way'. Her reply shocked me when she asked what the old fashion way was. I thought it was quite obvious. Excercise people! How many of you Singaporeans out there have forgotten about this? Have we humans become so dependent on stupid things like health products, accupuncture and therepy that we forgot how to walk with out own two legs? When she replied "That will take so long isn't?", I nearly cried in shame to call myself a teen of this current age. I find hard work rewarding and if one day I was to lose weight, it would be out of my own will. Not from some pills. The phrase 'Beauty is only skin deep' is already a sinking ship.

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. ~T.S. Eliot

Moving on, later in the conversation, she asked me just how much weight I intend to lose using the 'old fashion way'. I replied, 'Everything I don't want.' Which again came across me as obviously every single ounce of weight I don't want to have on my body. Her last two replies came in a form of the English language which took me a few good seconds to decipher. This prompted me to reread the messages she has sent me thus far. I realized that every messages was written in Singlish. That wasn't so bad. Even I write in Singlish sometimes. But the one thing that really made me sad was that even the Singlish words were mispelled. Reading though the past 50 of my messages, the ones written in Singlish were equally demorallizing. Our command of the language (any language) has truly fallen and become a complete mish-mash of internet jargon and modern day slangs.

It is easier to go down a hill than up, but the view is best from the top. ~Arnold Bennett

I'm not asking for perfection. But at least putting some heart into the things we do can't be that bad right? Like maybe checking once through your messages to make sure they aren't crap or actually working for the things you want isn't so hard issit? Not all, but many of us have forgotten the satisfaction of hard work. The happiness that comes with the happiness of other. All these traits can be seen in every little action one makes and truthfully, I've been seeing very little of them lately. Lessons that our forefathers have thaught us since ages past so we not make the same mistakes are being forgotten. After all, those who fail to learn history are doomed to repeat it; those who fail to learn history correctly; why, they are simply doomed.

Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars. ~Les Brown

There's one more quote I found. Meaningul to the core it is. I may forget the phrase and the words and maybe even the person who said it. But the thing it's trying to convey would forever be part of me.

When I was a Boy Scout, we played a game when new Scouts joined the troop. We lined up chairs in a pattern, creating an obstacle course through which the new Scouts, blindfolded, were supposed to maneuver. The Scoutmaster gave them a few moments to study the pattern before our adventure began. But as soon as the victims were blindfolded, the rest of us quietly removed the chairs. I think life is like this game. Perhaps we spend our lives avoiding obstacles we have created for ourselves and in reality exist only in our minds. We're afraid to apply for that job, take violin lessons, learn a foreign language, call an old friend, write our Congressman - whatever it is that we would really like to do but don't because of personal obstacles. Don't avoid any chairs until you run smack into one. And if you do, at least you'll have a place to sit down. ~Pierce Vincent Eckhart

Threads

Do you know that there are currently over six billion people on this Earth and counting? And that everyone of us are connected in ways so refined that even the strongest lens in the world can never see?

That's what I believe in. My elder sister said something to me today that made me want to retort but explaining my beliefs to her would have been too much of a chore. I cannot comprehend people who puts everything they have on a single being whom they are not connected to by any means other than by that few instances or people. I want to place MY faith in that thread that connects the six billion of us on this planet.

Why do I place my thrust in ordinary people and not those of stronger force some may ask. My answer is 'The Eiffel Tower". The tower as many people already know is a global icon of France and one of the most magnificent man-made structure on Earth. It is built by hundreds of interconnecting girders alone and have stood for over one hundred years through wind, rain and snow. Now think of the girders as humans and we are all connected. And when we work together, we can last for a hundred years. How strong is that? Very. Another fact why the Eiffel Tower, for me at least, stands for the interconnection for humanity. It was used as a radio transmitter. That's right, radio. If that doesn't symbolise something, than I don't know what does.

One of the most feared and strongest man also fell to the Eiffel Tower and that would be Adolf Hitler. He conquered Paris but failed to climb to the top of the tower to hang the flag. The most powerful man of that time failed to conquer this structure of unity. That's saying something.