Hey

Don't know if you'll read this, but it's more than 140 characters, and so one obvious avenue for communication (if it can be called that) is out. E-Mails don't work anymore either, I guess.

I have no idea what it is that's eating at you, and honestly, as much as I do want to know, there's a part of me that doesn't as well, and I definitely don't want to guess anyway. All I see and hear and read is about how you're angry and sad and bothered.

Everyday, every hour, I get reminded of things I've been trying to forget. That dinosaur movie we've been waiting for is showing now, and the concert is next week, but the likelihood I'll catch either is about as good as landing a starring spot on Glee. Pity though, for more reasons than the obvious.

A lot of other people will read this though. Well, not a lot. This space isn't that popular, other than seeming to attract bots (I'm looking at you, ChatBox). But a number of people will read this, though not all will understand half of it. To you folks, I'm sorry.

And I'm sorry to you too, the one this is for. Sorry for many things.

Not everything, though.

Not for sneaking up on unsuspecting siblings at the airport, or watching the planes fly in the night sky (sans wishing they were shooting stars). Not for being called "Chocolate" or for watching you freak out when you thought someone had caught on. Not for long rides home with others pretending not to see the flower laying there, and not for that one being just one of many I'm not sure you even have any more. Not for still keeping the bottle of water you only half-finished when we went to the zoo and not for stealing that first hug when that other person was in the theatre bathroom.  Not for the little smiley faces that used to litter your MSN window, the crazy smiley faces you'd make when driving in the car. Or the one night you showed up, out of the blue, and made me believe that I wasn't so crazy after all.

A long time ago, you made me promise not to forget you, and I intend to keep that promise.

I just hope that you haven't forgotten that I'm always be and I've always been here if you need or want anything.

Doubt this will change anything though, but I had to say it somehow.

There It Is

First time in weeks. Not that it changes anything. Think I'm getting sick too, and that's always very bad.

Shit.

Clubbed to Death

I like the instrumental track by Rob D, especially the mix that was used in The Matrix. The video is a little weird, but the song is still kick-ass. But this isn't about piano keys and bass, this is about clubbing. At least my take on it.

Many people have their own views on clubbing. Some are all for it, and some abhore the habit. Or addiction. I've been to clubs before, and I think that - OK, I've been to a club before, and I think it's alright I guess, if you're into that kind of thing.

I'm not.

Some choose to walk through the smoky doors of a dimly-lit, wall-thumping club to have fun. Well, I guess you could say everyone goes there to have fun, but the catch is that definitions of fun differ greatly from person to person. I'd think watching Tremors and laughing at cheesy movie effects is fun, but others might only classify the F-word as being drunk out of your mind in a room full of equally-drunk people. The exception, of course, would be the designated drivers who would be body-shakin while maintaining a soberly outlook on life. At least that's what most of us hope.

Many of my close friends enjoy clubbing. I don't. As I've mentioned so eloquently before, crowds aren't my cup of tea. I hate tea anyway. I don't frown on people who do indulge themselves, though. It's just...

Sometimes it's difficult to not look around the Web for any seemingly innocent material before you are assaulted with a multitude of gyrating torsos promising fun and funk at any random club VIP room. And I go "Wait a minute..."

Now, this isn't me saying I don't, can't or won't trust someone who likes to club particularly often (to my liking, at least), but it's just the other people I don't trust. It's just the other drunk people I don't trust. You could meet the first Singapore Idol or some supposed TV-star there, but it still doesn't change the fact that things do happen at clubs. And not all of it is fun.

Simply put, many people club looking to have a good time. Now, there are good times and there are good times. Forgetting that you have a significant other and making out with a stranger isn't my idea of a good time, but it happens as most of you very well know. I'm lucky enough to not have had to deal with that (to a certain degree...), but listening to stories from various sources is indeed very disconcerting.

(Overheard from random fella, translated for your benefit)

"Oh man, you know I was Zouk yesterday and there was this HOT chick. I don't know who she is, never found out her name, but she was high man, HIGH. We were dancing and before I knew it, her tongue was in my mouth!"



Of course, the source of this monologue would be a rather obnoxious fellow that, if anything, smells. Over the pungent aroma of too many vodkas and cigs.

But the fact of the matter is that such things do happen, and sometimes I worry. Maybe it's me being paranoid. I was reassured all the time by the other girls that they'll "take care" of the others. Now, I don't mean to be rude, but you don't exactly put up a brilliant picture of confidence when you're staggering to the ladies (in a group, of course) to puke.

But I'd still not stand in the way of anyone going to a club, of course. Especially since most invite me to tag along anyway so I can see first-hand the grinding of people trying to look cool and fit in.

Well, I guess that's the end of my tirade. Not much else to say, really. Like I said at the start, nothing against clubbers, and no offence to anyone who might have been implicated here. Go! Club! Drink! Enjoy!

I Miss Your Purple Hair

Only Just A Dream

Another work-night saw another drive alone. Wrong turn took me to the same place again. Good music though, so that was a plus.

Sleepless in Serangoon

Had a good day (so far) today, I think. Did a lot of that, thinking, with certain questions from certain people not helping matters. Then made my way to work, after cleaning up.

Found myself somewhere else instead of the office.

Good thing I decided to leave early.

Something from the Past

Hari Raya

It's here again. Customary for those who celebrate it to ask for forgiveness from those around them for wrongdoings and the like, and so I'll take this opportunity to do so, though I'm not exactly sorry for everything that's happened over the past year.

If I've wronged you, perhaps I'm sorry then.

Perhaps not.

Throwback to Simpler Times

Sleep

Lately I've been having trouble getting to sleep, which is ironic seeing as how half the time I'm so bored I could doze off doing anything. But right after I log off and switch off (my, how we are slaves to the internet these days), I find myself staring at nothing, thinking about everything.

Not even any one thing, just everything. Mind whirling like a car rolling down a cliffside in an action flick. Minus cheesy over-the-top explosion.

Any suggestions?

iPhony

So there I was with my family, hungry and awaiting the "authentic" Thai food that was to be served at a familiar orange-toned restaurant. That the waiter came to take our orders without a pen or pencil or quill didn't help matters of course, and neither did the scowling visage of one particular sibling as she looked longingly at the popcorn chicken procured from the nearby KFC outlet. As the minutes ticked by ever so slowly (I'll get into the reasons for fasting another day, perhaps), I sat back and closed my eyes for a moment. I do deserve a rest, after all, seeing as how I've worked hard and honest everyday for almost two weeks. Who am I kidding, I was up late watching Mythbusters and CSI and Built For the Kill.

Anyway.

As we sat there, I noticed that the table had gone quiet. Now, my family has never been a very talkative one (at least among ourselves; my sister once said of her lack of smiling at gatherings: "It's because I hate being here.") but this was rather eerie. It was as if I had gone deaf, or that some beings had come and stolen everyone's voices, like that awesome episode on Buffy (called Hush, highly recommend). Looking up, I then saw the reason for the all-conquering silence.

Someone explain to me why I bothered to have dinner with my family when every single one of them seemed more intent on being transfixed to their little phones (Apple or other fruits) instead of those around them. Please.

Lots of people going crazy over a small black gadget that promises endless entertainment, unlimited convenience and everything from driving directions to the answer to life, the universe and everything. I, for one, am not amused.

I'm not even going to talk about the mass of people spamming things like FACETIME and the like on the various social media platforms that we're all slaves to, or how the general populace have been so efficiently ensnared and enthralled by the promises and promotions of the various TelCom companies. Rather, it was that single poignant incident a few hours ago that finally drove me over the edge, as it were.

Not the first time this kind of incident has pissed me off, and each time it does it reminds me of how someone I know once suggested leaving the phones in the car or somewhere else when spending time together. I still think that's one of the best ideas I've heard in a while.

Of course, I'm in line to get me one of these little demon-trinkets as well, though I'd like to believe I won't be guilty of such behavior. Have to ask yourself, though, why bother trying to maintain things face-to-face when everyone is more interested in face-to-screen. I would think that I, because of past history, might be better positioned to speak of the merits of computer (or at least technology-) mediated communication, but this is really taking it too far.

After several minutes, mother dearest noticed my vexation at the situation, and smiled. She then proceeded to go back to her phone. It's a bad apple we have in our midst, ladies and gentlemen, though one that isn't going to get sifted out anytime soon I'm sure.

I'll Be There For You

So The Rembrandts repeated every time before we started watching the best half-hour sitcom ever made. But what does it mean to be a friend? The implications and obligations, complications and connotations, the measure and meaning of friendship itself?

Before I start, and perhaps you've already thought to yourself by now, what do I know about being a friend? I can name a fair number of people who would probably think I'm a poor example, but then I could probably say the same about them.

One often expects the most from those considered a "friend", and perhaps that's justified. Of everyone you would have any expectations for, the ones you hold in the highest regard should by default be expected of highly as well. And if you don't look at your friends that way, why call them such?

But then isn't it also true that you shouldn't expect anything from a bond or relationship such as that? One borne of trust, respect and - for lack of a better word - love? You shouldn't expect something given in return, a transactional model, but one is content in knowing that your friends have your interests and happiness at heart.

Of course, it all sounds sickeningly idealistic, and in most cases that's hardly the case.

I know people who have been accused of "collecting friends", who makes little effort to get to know any one of their so-called friends after seeming to establish that they are, beyond any doubt, friends. Strange and contradictory, yes, but the antics of most girls usually are. I know of those that would give heartfelt and tear-streaked promises, whispered in the ears of those supposedly dear, and appear to forget the oaths when out of sight. Out of mind, perhaps. People who would undercut or simply cheat other "friends" out of their money. Some who might take full use of any relationship with anyone simply for the sake of convenience, treating others as one might a hired (and poorly-paid) chauffeur.

But then I also know those who would go out of their way to make sure that a friend is happy or stays happy. People who might quietly and stoically give up something they want to improve the situation of someone they care about. Those who expect nothing in return and in truth, sometimes get nothing in return. Friends who would expend much even if they don't spend much, those who make it seem like making the effort is effortless.

But it's hardly effortless.

A friendship, or any kind of relationship is something that takes time and energy to grow and maintain. Nothing new there, of course. But what many don't realize is that the way one quantifies or qualifies the resources put into that relationship lacks any universal measure.

Am I a good friend because I twice cancelled on seeing a girl I was seeing (dating?) because a friend was upset and needed to talk? Am I a good friend for picking someone up and driving them home, both out of my way, because they were sick? Am I a good friend for dropping my own work to help someone else write a Psychology paper, seeing as how I was more versed in the subject matter? What about the times I have simply not bothered with people who have bothered? Or when I have ditched a friend for a date? Or the number of times I have pretended to be "Busy" or "Away" online to avoid talking to people who would call themselves my "friends"?

But then there are different "friends" to different people, and the concept of friendship itself is vague, at best, perhaps. There are those I have barely seen in a year, and yet who I'd do almost anything for. Those I spend more time with than most but who I don't care much for. And all of this changes. This flux often throws people into disarray, and many don't understand it. I know I don't.

Two different people recently spoke of how they feel a wedge between them and either an individual or a group of friends. I have to say, I know how they feel. Not a lot of advice I can give them, for how can anyone outside and uninvolved ever hope to understand the complexities and intricacies of any friendship? You could spend years looking at two people, two friends, and still be surprised when they eventually and suddenly fall apart from each other. Or is that so surprising?

I've had to reconsider and reevaluate who means what to me. Not an easy or pleasant experience. I wrote earlier of a transactional model, and of expectations, likening a friendship to a business, almost. While that's a harsh and unfeeling analogy, and one I disagree with, there are aspects of it that ring true.All in all, I guess, sometimes you have to cut your losses. You know or you'll know if someone is a friend, and if you want to be a friend to someone. No point being a "friend" of, or to someone if they're not a friend to you.

Can't remember the last time you talked to me, I hope I do soon.