Inception: Spoiler-Free Review

I believe it's the first time I've posted more than one review within a week, discounting less-legal movie experiences. Let's get moving.

The trailer for Inception has been circulating like hot gossip since it's err, inception, and I haven't seen or heard anyone call it anything less than stellar. Sporting an ensemble cast that includes Leonardo DiCaprio, Ellen Page, Michael Caine, Ken Watanabe, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Tom Berenger to name a few, it's also produced by two of the three people who brought you The Dark Knight, Christopher Nolan and (the less-hyped) Emma Thomas.

It's been a while since I went into a movie with big expectations (Avatar, The Dark Knight, Iron Man 2, Transformers), and they've been mixed experiences to say the least. Coming into Inception though, I was already expecting big things from the trailer and from a friend's tweet that went something like "INCEPTION IS THE BEST MOVIE EVER MADE OMFG". Granted, some people can go over the top with snap judgments on big movies after watching them, but I usually trust his taste. Usually.

You know how some films seem very disjointed or fragmented, and when it all falls into place, when everything clicks, you get that one defining moment of "Whoa"? Yeah, that's what you get here. The feeling that the movie is purposefully made to boggle the mind and leave you on the very brink of understanding permeates throughout, with a multi-layered (in more ways than one) plot and complex characters. With so much going on, though, it doesn't race ahead of the viewers' ability to understand the intricacies of the world of Inception, the rules of the game and how everything fits together.

Nearly everything is either open to logical and reasonable assumptions come the end, or explained really well anyway during the 140+ minutes of the film. Another plus, I hate movies that are under two hours. Didn't expect anything less though, given the sheer scope of this project.

DiCaprio gives a really good performance (as usual) of Cobb, someone gifted in the art of corporate espionage, with secrets to hide as well as uncover. But then he almost always delivers, as just about every one of his films have shown. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, of 3rd Rock and 10 Things and 500 Days acclaim (what's with the numbers?) is an actor I've always enjoyed watching, and I believe this is the first time I've seen him in a big-budget action movie, and he more than stepped up. Ellen Page is another one I really like, from Hard Candy to Juno and even her cameo in X-Men. There's Michael Caine, ever elegant and captivating, even if his screen time is limited. Ken Watanabe and his iconic accent and steely gaze also does brilliantly. It dawned on me near the end that Cillian Murphy is actually The Scarecrow from Nolan's Batman films too.

Batman count:
Christopher Nolan/Emma Thomas
Alfred
Scarecrow
Impostor Ra's Al Ghul

One thing evident from the trailer is that the score is big and epic. During the film, too, the music sets the eerie and surreal tone that everything else explores. It inspires awe and takes your breath away, together with the stunning visuals and heart-racing action. I actually caught myself on the edge of my seat, holding my breath in anticipation a couple of times. Even the humor that's placed in the dialogue works, and doesn't take away or detract from anything, unlike some other examples.

Perhaps the best thing about the movie is the way it got an entire theatre to go "Oh shiiiiiiiiit" at the same time, myself and lovely companion included. That was quite awesome. The only thing that bugged me is how the ending is desperately similar to another DiCaprio movie (I won't say which), but then it isn't exactly a bad thing. Makes you think, like the rest of the movie. Definitely not a brainless film, far from it. You have to think about almost everything that takes place, and even then you might be debating it with others for a while. In a good way.

In the end, Inception is a mind-blowing movie that might not be mind-blowingly good, but comes damn close. Definitely one of the best movies in recent memory, and obvious puns about how it's a dream movie aside, it's definitely something that everyone should watch. As I said to a friend after the film,

"It's awesome. Sit down, shut up, pay attention, think about it, and enjoy."

Can't really go wrong with Jack, Juno, Tommy, Katsumoto, Scarecrow and Alfred in The Matrix eh?

Predators: Spoiler-Free Review!

One of the earliest and most poignant movie experiences I had as a kid was watching the first Predator movie, where Arnie foiled the technologically- and physically-superior Alien with mud and big yelling. That and Arnie (again) cutting off most of his skin in Terminator 2 and the fact that velociraptors are chillingly intelligent. 1987's Predator also introduced me to the idea of infra-red vision and might have been one of the first times I heard the F-bomb dropped.

Infra-vision and F-bombs aplenty in the 2010 installment of the series, produced in part by Robert Rodriguez. I loved Desperado and Sin City, but then this follows Alien vs Predator and Alien vs Predator: Requiem, and so I didn't really have my hopes up for the film, especially being the huge fan of the franchise itself. Sort of like Transformers, come to think of it. And we all know how that turned out.

Watching it at Cineleisure Orchard, the first thing that struck me was the fact that the advertisements and trailers were craptacular. Sure, there's the Inception one that everyone has seen and loved about fourteen times the past week, but other than that, meh. Not really the fault of anyone to do with Predators itself, so I'll move on.

I'll start with the good. The best part of the movie, for me, was the fact that just about all the music seems to be from the original Predator film. Even at the end, as out of place as it is, I really liked it No "Get to tha choppa!" but there's the music from the other choppa, so that's good enough for me. That and the very early re-introduction to chaingun carnage in deep forest vegetation already scored some points. Of course, music and bullets will never make a film, and Adrien Brody is no Arnold Schwarzenegger. I'm not even sure if that's how you spell it.

The characters involved in the film aren't totally developed, but that can be forgiven, seeing as how you'd expect as much from a film where one expects most of them to die off really quickly anyway. Early on you'll be able to tell who are the "main" ones and which of the others are really just fodder for the shoulder-cannon-toting extraterrestrials.

Trivia: The term "Xenomorph" is used to describe the "Aliens" from Alien (duh) and AVP, but there are no definitive term for Predators. However, "Yautja" is used in some books I have read, and I believe another one is "Hish".

Early on, I turn to my buddy and go "That's Eric Foreman, right?" "Yeah, Venom.". Still weird.

Many new things are introduced to the Predator universe in this movie, not least the "dogs" that are seen in some early shots that a few people have seen a while back. Writing this now, it strikes me that they look alarmingly like Felhunters from World of Warcraft. This, of course, must surely mean that Warlocks will be able to spec into Predator come the newest expansion. Hmm, tempting.

No classic things like self-destruct mini-nukes or Xena flying discs or telescopic spears though. Pity.

The plot isn't the strongest, but then when has a Predator film been based on one? That being said, though, it isn't stupid, though a few spots will leave you scratching your head in confusion. Think about it later, however,  and most of it makes sense. Some things like the rather convenient placement of certain weapons may raise a few eyebrows, but one could probably jot that down to some reasonable explanation, but still. That and the aforementioned Felhunters seem to have god-like endurance. One or two other things other than character vitality can be guessed early on, but that doesn't detract from the film too much. I actually called something the minute it happened, and was rather pleased when I was right, but then the manner of which it played out was a nice surprise, though admittedly strange.

Final verdict? If you're a fan of the Predator universe, you'll probably like it. It's still a long, long way away from the first one, and if you take the whole crossover universe into account, it would rank fourth, behind that and the first two Alien movies (singular and plural).

Dog Eat Dog

There has been a recent flurry of video reposts on Facebook, Twitter and the like after the SPCA put up a video of a woman smacking a dog with a bunch of rattan stick-things. Now, animal cruelty is something I can never condone, and is a definite deal-breaker in any sense. If Jessica Alba showed up at my doorstep, glowingly radiant and professing her undying love to me, but kicked Mia out of spite, I'd throw her out on her ass. Eventually.

So the afore-mentioned video has caused quite a stir on the interwebz, and while I think that the woman in frame shouldn't be defended at all, the vast majority of comments that have come to light because of the video are laughable, at best.


"OMG THAT BITCH SHUD BURN IN HELL"


"i dun even wanna c the vid, but i hope she dies"

Two hilarious excerpts I've quoted without even trying.

Now, before I go on, I want to make it crystal clear that I am not supportive of the woman in question in any way, but am only making a personal assessment on the situation that has come about from this whole thing.

Moving on.


It's all little over-the-top, don't you think? I know people who regularly and enthusiastically stalk drunken girls in clubs, looking for openings. Or people who are willing and able to cheat on their significant others in a heartbeat, with nearly anyone who shows a passing interest. Those who seek to sow discord among people he names friends, not to mention steal money from playing poker.

Should these people burn in hell too (considering it exists)? Some say yes. And if these people, this lady is an otherwise model citizen, does that account for anything?

More amusing still, is how some can be so quick to hop on the "Kill-The-Bitch" bandwagon when they, by their own admission, have not seen what has happened. Granted, the description may be vivid enough, but calling for someone's head and blood to be shed is a little too dramatic when you haven't even considered the evidence yourself.

What strikes me as strange, though, is the manner of which the SPCA has gone about inciting this bloodlust among the otherwise calm and serene animal-lovers that troll Facebook and social media. According to them, they were "directed" to the video on YouTube, and are now seeking assistance in identifying the woman. This raises two glaring points in my little mind.

1. It isn't too difficult to click on the name of the user who posted the YouTube video in the first place, and send him/her a private message. I've tried, it takes a grand total of two clicks.

2. Why share the video on Facebook as one of "their" videos and not the YouTube link itself, thereby removing the opportunity for the motivated Facebookers to do some pseudo-sleuthing of their own?

An argument that can (and will) be raised is that there may be more than one of the videos circulating on Google's YouTube, with more made as I type this. Fair enough. So look for the one posted first. If the SPCA can take the time to rip it off YouTube and repost it as their own video on Facebook, they can get the person who did that for them to look at the dates and times that YouTube dutifully and digitally records and displays.

But what then? The originator of the video is obviously a relative or friend of the woman. Will he/she give her up? Probably not, you might think. Then why post it in the first place?

This whole dog fiasco has left me with more amusement than anything, though I feel for the pup. Still, it's still my personal opinion that it would be prudent for everyone to take a look at things rationally, and realize that there's always more to it than what appears on the surface. Animal cruelty is bad, very bad, but it often takes many forms, and people have to take the time to think before saying anything stupid sometimes.

Conversations

"You've fallen that deep, huh?"

"Deeper."

"That's not going to make things any easier."

"I know. A big part of me knows it's not going to happen. Really. But that other part is hoping that she'll wake up one day and change her mind. I have to be there if she does."

Just Another Day

It was a special day. Saw people I didn't expect, people who make me feel better. But then had to watch, remember, talk about, share, listen to and look at a few difficult, sometimes heart-wrenching things while most of them smiled. I'm happy for them, of course. Just tired of it all sometimes. Sometimes the truth is exhausting.

Today

"Thanks for dinner, and driving everywhere."

"You don't have to thank me. A long time ago I promised you I'd do everything I could to make things good and to spend time with you. I meant it then, mean it now. Thank you for letting me spend today with the people who matter most to me."

"It was nothing much."

"Still means the world to me."
You do. Thank you for the birthday present, and the hug.

I find myself online at 5.33 in the morning, after just getting home from work. Spain beat Germany in a thoroughly engaging game, and I didn't kill myself or anyone else while driving in a semi-comatose state.

Been having a lot of things run through this head of mine the past few days, as well as spending quite a bit of cash though that's a forgivable rarity, and it was worth it.

See how it goes, I guess, though that's always been the case eh?

Don't always get what we want, or have things turn out the way we'd like.

Backspace

I have a tendency to start writing and not finis –

Yeah.

It'd be awesome, I guess, to be able to just hit backspace in real life and redo things.

Right?

I'm gonna write this entry and not hit backspace at all.

I'm at a point in my life where th that seems wide open. Big things happening all around, and som most times it seems that I'm barely aware of the very things that are most important, or should be the most important to me. Most day hou of the time I catch myself tinking about things I shouldn't be thinking of like that amazingly annoying YOG song instead of things that people tell me I should. Are they right? Maybe. Probably.

So here I am, right, at this point, this chapter of a my the story, where whatever comes next seems like a big mystery questi unknown clusterfu voi unknown. A long time ago, A while back, I wrote about how we all live and write the stories of our lives. Of course, I now realize that I also referenced that in a much more recent entry, so just bear stay with me.

Every story has a start, a beginning and an end. Pretty simple, straightforward and duh. Once upon a time, we had something.

What most people don't see or understand though, is that often times you don't know if something is the beginning or the end of the story. I'm not even talking about "the end is the beginning is the end" or a ra anything else. Just that sometimes you've got to catch yourself and stop to take a look at things, put things in perspective.

Sometimes you've got to ask yourself if it's all worth it, if it things are going the way you want them to, and if you need to change anything. If you want to change anything. If you can even change anything. Not always the case, of course. Plenty of hopeless situations, though there are probably more seemingly hopeless ones that than genuine ones.

What about me? Do you wanna know about me? Probably. That's why you're here, right? I wish you were here.

I spend most of my time distracted, or trying to distract myself. When I think about that in itself, I begin to wonder if which one is more true or accurate. Lately it's been harder and harder to stay distracted, or to keep myself distracted from tha what's been keeping me up at night or and what's been on my mind the most. If you've been reading this space, or and if you're at least half rational an or able to see certain things or read between the lines, you might know what I'm talking about.

Asked myself what's going on. A love for music is something I really loved in her.

Someone el Three people have recently said that they're surprised at "this side of me" or that they "didn't know this side of Naz existed".

Neither did I. Neither did you.

But I'm not sure how I feel about that. Would I want t Done a few things I might have not under different circumstances, and not ta totally regretted them. Would I have mashed the backspace key given the chance? I'm still not sure. As it is, this entry looks like what things are now. Pieces of nonsense flying in different directions, and messy as hell.

There's still something there, though. Always has, always will.

Loose Change

Only people you should change for are those who love you the way you are.

That's what I've always believed.

And in the past few months I can count on one hand the number of times I've dropped the F-bomb.

Made the effort to be around people I wouldn't normally entertain, or layan.

Stopped speeding.

Spending money on Bird Park in the rain. Spontaneous Night Safari adventure.

Braving the weather in less-than-convenient attire.

Going to Jurong at least once a week, not for football.

Went on shopping trips and looked for obscure books.

Started to love Class 95. And now can't listen to it.

Even grew out the hair. She said she liked the hair longer.

Not good enough though.

It's a funny thing that, change.

Extreme cliché to call it the constant, when some people never do, but yet there it is.

Staring at many of us in the face, while other race towards it, purposefully or otherwise. Sometimes things change when you least expect them, sometimes not the way you want or hope or pray for. Sometimes people change. Situations change. Times and places change.

Someone once said to me, as I sat there with her under the stars by the water,

"You're not the Naz I knew from before."

Maybe she's right, or maybe people never really change, it's just that you realize the way they really are, and the penny drops as that understanding hits.

Of course, maybe it's all nothing, since I'm often accused of over-thinking things, of being over-analytical and looking too deeply into things.

Perhaps it's all just nonsense, ramblings, garbage, from someone missing sleep and food. And you.

But right now I'd give anything to have things the way there were when all I worried about was what the next colored flower would be. Or the best way to get home from Serangoon by bus.

Missing Something

She doesn't know, or doesn't care, that some of the things she's said recently have hurt me more than anything ever has.

Says I think too much, but that's all I have right now. Thoughts and memories.

Says her eyes are watering, she's so tired. I'm tired too, and so are mine.

Says we're fine, we're cool, and nothing's changed. Feels like she's drifting away.

Says things are the same. But she's wrong.

Said once it would have worked in another time and place. Times and places have changed, she's still right there.

Still here though, maybe stupidly. And it feels like I'm a different person to her now.

Probably not as pandai as she says I am. I don't know what to do anymore.

Just wish I could see her and believe in something again.

Questions

"I don't want people asking questions."

I've been asking them all this time. Afraid of the answers.

"How are things?"

"Not great, but that's expected."

"Damn."

"Not gonna give up, though."

"That's good, fight for your happiness."

Or else what else is there to fight for?

Weekend

Just had an interesting cab ride home where it seemed like the driver was high on something. Like a hyperactive bunny on crack.

Been having crazy late nights recently, and working just about every day as well. Fun, though I've lost track of days, and had to repeatedly turn down meeting the people most important to me. Hopefully things change soon, since I have an off day scheduled soon, along with rotating shifts so I work the earlier one and don't see myself in the (admittedly cool and fun) office until past midnight.

So after work today (yesterday?), packing up and flagging a cab, I was feeling pretty good about myself. One more day to a day of no work after all, and that's always fun, right? Walk out onto Lorong Chuan, within sight of SGPS, and there are three cabs waiting right there. Reject the Merc, even with the ability to be reimbursed the cab fare. Step then into the first "normal" cab and settle into the back seat.

"Uncle, Kembangan?"

"Can, can. You want go by highway or small road?"

"Small roads can. Hougang or Paya Lebar."

"Can can. Working here ah?"

"Yep."

"Wah, so late ah."

"Yep, this month quite crazy."

"Oh you at ESPN one ah?"

"Yep."

"Watch World Cup one ah?"

"Yep."

"Wah, this World Cup that Singtel very esspensive haw?"

In my sleepy state, I almost thought he was calling the telecommunications company an overpriced prostitute, though to most that wouldn't be far from the truth.

"Oh, yeah."

"Ya, yesterday that England oso, make me lose money haw."

"Heh, I don't think they are that good."

"Ya haw."

Have to try to resist a chuckle here.

"Heskey is useless."

"Aiyah that Heskey ah like a monkey haw. Then this Slovenia la, Slovakia la, Croatia la, Africa la, all cannot match haw? England only scared of Holland la, Argentina la, Germany la, Brazil la, Spain la, Italy la, Portugal la…"

At this point I have Inner Circle's Sweat ringing in my head.

"France is also quite bad."

"Aiyah that France haw, also lousy la haw? The Hand-ree oso now lousy haw."

"Yep."

"Then that Maradona haw, also siao one haw. And Ahjentina haw, oso cannot play liddat. Messi one person cannot haw."

"Yep."

"Rooney oso haw, so good but the rest of the team haw, lousy haw? But Capello clever haw? Bring all the friend. The Chelsea la, the Man Yew la, the Tor-turn-ham la, the Liverpool la."

"Yep."

"But Liverpool now so lousy ah. Good oso that Benitez go away. But maybe now that Gerrard and the Torres oso go haw."

"Yep."

"Wah I watch the match yesterday haw –"

"You subscribed to – "

"No la. So esspensive haw. My house there can get Malaysia one. You know right?"

"Yep."

"Braddel there. That Singtel ah, just like this gahment. So esspensive. You see, even the taxi also go up haw. But you can claim right?"

"Yep."

Here I begin to run out of ways to say yep. Thankfully, we're almost at Kembangan.

"Wah I tell you, haw, nowadays very hot."

"Mhmm."

Had to say something different. Whip out my phone in the hope someone calls. Unlikely. No.

"So tomorrow work haw?"

"Yep. Uncle can turn here, thank you. Then left right at the end."

"Turn right ah?"

"Left, left."

I realize my error and wonder why it's never been noticed before.

"Straight haw."

"Yep."

And home, and the weekend is GONE. Wow. I'm still coming to terms with the way everything is changing, but at least weird experiences on public transport will always be a constant. Should really be headed to bed, getting some sleep, but even with everything going on, some things (other than public transport) stay the same, even as I want other things to change.

I realize I sound less than coherent, I blame work and taxi drivers. And excess Thai food.

Rambling

So lately I've been dealing with a lot of things. Already mentioned work a couple of times and I've been spending the past couple of days planted in front of a Mac learning how to use Final Cup Pro for future video editing use. Still prefer Windows, even with its bugs and glitches and other nonsense, though I have to say I'm a huge fan of that function where you display all active windows and applications. I have no idea what that's called.

The World Cup starts in a few days, and just about every football fan will have their own opinions on how they see the tournament shaping up. I'll have my own too, of course, just not right now. Also since it's part of my job scope, I'd think that it'll be an interesting tournament, above all else.

But work and football aside, I've found myself more and more distracted lately.

No prizes for guessing what by, if you've been paying attention. I know some of you have.

I've always believed that it's very important to do what makes you happiest, to reach out and take what you believe does that to you. That's fair, isn't it?

But you don't always get what you want, that's the way it is as well. What then?

Do you ignore the setback, the obstacle, the impossible, and look for another way to make things work, to move past what's in your way, try and overcome whatever that problem might be?

Or do you instead take a step back and settle for what makes you happy instead of what makes you happiest?

A dangerous, tragic thing, that. And what kind of happiness is that where you know that you're missing out on what you really want?

Make no mistake. I'm not saying I'm depressed or (totally) broody or just plain emo. I'm just looking thinking aloud, or something.

Somebody told me once that she's selfish, after asking me an important question. Brought me back to a conversation we had a century ago, about how everyone was selfish. How everyone did things for themselves. How each and every individual is their own person, working towards their dreams and their goals and their desires.

Just have to realize though, that by going after what you believe makes you happiest, you set yourself up for everything but.

Then you got to ask yourself if that happiness is really worth all that.

And if it is, go for it.

No matter what.

Moon and Back

Head in the clouds on a night that was too much so.

Glittery stars only seen behind looming columns of marble and stone.

Detour to an old haunt with a new twist and a familiar face.

Probing questions under pensive circumstances.

A thoughtful look, things said unsaid.

And back again.

Tomorrow

It's been an interesting few days, with work and all. Most of the people who are considerate/unfortunate enough to pay attention to my being a social media butterfly would have known by now that I've been lucky enough to land a pretty fun gig at ESPN Star Sports as a production assistant. It's weird thinking about actually being part of the working community, and to be honest I never thought I'd enter the workforce this soon, or be lucky enough to get paid rating F1 crashes, among other things.

The people there are pretty nice too. Met a number of TV people, and have actually been working across Paula Malai Ali and with Sanjeev Palar the past couple of days. The interview itself was conducted by someone who's been on TV as well, and no, I have not met Jamie Yeo yet. But everyone seems friendly and funny. Fascinating at times.

Fact that there is no actual dress code helps, sure. Dressed all snazzy on Monday, leather shoes and all, but went to work in faded jeans and a T-shirt today. I've gone to school dressed better. No complaints, of course, and today I saw a dude come in berms and slippers. Hmm. Still like the shirts though.

Yet every day I find myself wanting more. Maybe I'm greedy. To many degrees I know I am. Not in a good way too, most times. Crazy and gutsy too, maybe.

Each day brings with it something new to learn at the workplace, somewhere I'm lucky enough to combine my passion for (some) sports and a growing interest in the media. Still, I find myself distracted most of the time, glancing at my phone on the table, taking a few moments to quote some useless fragment of an overheard conversation to try and make someone laugh, or hoping that by the end of the day, I can get off the train a little earlier and say hi.

There's tomorrow though. Tomorrow, tomorrow.

Hi.

Fairy Tale

With the release of another Shrek movie – am I the only person that thinks that the 3D version of a movie would have been marketed better if it were the third, rather than the fourth movie? – and McDonald's questionable tie-in with the strangely successful franchise, fairy-tales are on the agenda these days. What exactly is a fairy tale, though? Obviously doesn't only involve fairies per se, but more often than not include magical or incredible characters, items or places. So most Disney stories about princesses fall under the category very obviously, but then so do other stories like a witch living in a candy house or three talking bears sleeping in beds.

I'm not sure what my favorite fairy tale is. Perhaps it's because one of the earliest memories I have of my childhood is how most of the books we had at home were non-fiction. Titles like The Way Things Work or 365 Things to Know or The Great Book of Birds lined my bookshelf more than anything from Aesop or Mother Goose. Not complaining, of course. I loved looking at things like the mechanisms behind the firing of a laser or the similarities in dinosaur and avian skeletal structure or the formation of a white dwarf, rather than the adventures of seven others.

Things don't always have a fairy-tale end, though. Heck, they almost never have a fairy-tale anything, even if you do find yourself the beautiful princess or charming prince. Like fairies themselves, such stories are more often than not just that, stories, designed to address hopes and desires unattainable in most instances.

Like how I said so very long ago, though, stories are an important part of the way life is.

Today marks an important day for the story of my life, I feel. Can't wait for later.

Been doing a lot of thinking lately, though some might argue that I tend to overthink everything anyway. Certain things.

Remembering something that never happened, and how so much has since, is a weird kind of feeling or situation. Looking back at that sentence, I guess it's vague, at best, but have you ever had someone special in your life, someone so dear and who means or meant so much to you and find later that they simply… don't? I'm not talking about breaking up with a significant other, because mutual romantic feelings and relationships are always difficult and pose unique challenges themselves. But how someone can come into your life, share laughter and smiles every day with, and then quite suddenly stop. It's like a character in a story that's been hypnotized or taken over by something or body-snatched by pod-people. And even stranger still, I find myself undisturbed by it, only curious. Someone who knows about the situation asked me last night (this morning?) if I was alright over the whole thing, and I said yes. And I am, though that's a little crazy. But I guess we all are, eh?

Gave the whole situation until the end of today to sort itself out, before I'm closing that chapter. And opening another.

Monday morning sees me starting work for the first time. Not the enforced office-life of NS, or the horrors of giving tuition to slack-eyed boys and mindless zombies for a pittance. No, an actual job. Almost unreal, definitely surreal. I still find it hard to believe at times, and I've had about two weeks to digest it. I remember how I always wanted to be a scientist, growing up. To be precise, I wanted to be an inventor, though I don't think I've ever invented anything, and am not exactly the enterprising or revolutionary sort. But anyway, starting work tomorrow at a huge, multi-national media company, working on something I've always had a passion in. Dream job? Not quite, since there was actually something else I was eyeing, though with this one already in the bag I hope that other gig goes to that other geek.

Looks like I'll be taking the train a lot in the times to come, so maybe this space will be a lot more active. Not as long a ride as other times in the past, but I think we're all in for long rides, and it's just up to each and every one of us to write our own fairy tale endings.

Friends

Not too many sneaky messages in this one, sorry.

I've never been Mr. Popular. Not bitter about it, of course. On the contrary, I've always thought that having a few really good friends was infinitely more rewarding than boasting a congregation of people who claim to be a friend. Looking back, I think I've had my fair share of both, and probably been both to a few people as well.

One of my oldest friends, someone I've known for about twelve years now, only recently spoke about this very same thing to me. Got me thinking, maybe overthinking, but then you're already reading this so you kind of want to know already. I'll go through a few people who I've thought about recently, in no particular order. Maybe you know these people, and maybe not. Maybe I don't, either.

There's someone who I shared everything with, gave everything to. Was really my best friend for the longest time, even if I always knew that I was not that same friend to her, though I was something admittedly "more". I'd still count her as someone I care about, a friend who I would make the effort to help.

Another I met early on in my university life, someone who seemed quiet and low-profile, though nowadays that's hardly a label that could be used. Most times I can't bring myself to bother about this one fellow, and sometimes I find the feeling mutual. Perhaps it's the alcohol.

Someone who I've only really known for less than a year, it seems, though in that time she has shown that she would do so much to maintain what we have, and often times I catch myself taking her for granted. She even gave me a Coke can from Korea, not to mention burgers on my birthday.

A girl I met when I was fourteen or so, so very long ago. A friend of a relative, as well as a friend of someone I fancied. Broke off the ties to both, though the two of us remained sporadic chat-buddies for the better part of a decade, before something unexpectedly blossomed. I probably didn't treat this person as well as she deserved, in the end, though others say otherwise.

One fellow who tends to be present at gatherings that I frequent, though my distaste for him is fairly obvious, and he remains one of the few people I have literally screamed at in public. He calls me obnoxious, and I call him a total idiot. That he's a vandal doesn't help, and I'm not too perturbed if I never see him again.

A person who I cared about, more than anything, for the longest time. Something and nothing happened at the same time, before thousands of miles came between us. Now that the miles are gone it seems like the distance is even greater, and I surprise myself in not being sure how I feel about that.

Somebody I've thought very highly of for a while until recently, having found that he went out of his way to exclude someone else from a gathering of school-mates, hiding that fact from the others. And this after I had gone out of my way not to make him feel any more down. I'm not sure what he is to me right now.

And another I met the first day in Secondary School, before moving on the Junior College together. As the years went by, things have changed, and while our paths have diverged we've always remained close. I think it's fair to say, however, that I haven't made as much effort as he has. I want to change that.

The one who suggested the comics. Don't always agree on everything, including the Apple/Windows debate, but I've never thought of him as anything but a friend, and a good one. Loud, but in a good way. That he is at least as in love with Jessica Alba as I am makes it easier to manage, of course.

Someone who should stick to goalkeeping, unfortunately a Liverpool fan, though that allows me to ridicule him incessantly. Shared countless trips home together, and he actually apologized to me about not being a good friend. It should be the other way around. Something else I need, and want, to fix.

The one who you can hear swearing from the next room. Haven't always seen eye-to-eye, and I recently found that there were a few things about me she couldn't really stand. I hope I'm able to mend those bridges, though the cat-food looks like a good sign. Thanks.

The person who gets bullied and teased about what people say are her small eyes. Not even sure how we got close, though it looks like it will be a while before I can spend time with her again, due to school and work. Sometimes I feel that I don't know too much about her, and I wonder if it's because I haven't bothered. She won't say it, but I think that's the case.

Two long-haired girls who don't talk to me anymore. Honestly, I don't even care, and I wonder why I tried so hard. Good riddance.

Somebody who shares a passion for football and video games, though his insistence on singing Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber drives me up the wall. Still, somebody who I can count on for almost anything, and hopefully that's mutual.

An individual who I've known yet not known until recently. Unsure about what I feel about it, because so many habits the person has annoys me to the point of wanting to throttle her. She thinks I'm insincere and boring, and I don't know what I think of her. Okayyy.

The one with the scary smile, he's offered to try and help with the job-hunting, though I'm happy I was able to get one without the assistance. Much appreciated, however, and though we don't see each other or talk nearly as much as before, I'd call him a good friend.

Someone who I bothered to help out, talk to everyday, when she used to cry all the time because of two foreign guys in school. She said she wouldn't be stupid, and that promise lasted a few minutes. Good achievement, all things considered, and it's not even surprising anymore how it went from wiping away her tears to clicking "Hide" on Facebook. I tried.

The girl who insists on smacking me every chance she gets, though the arrangements (hugs for smacks) has lessened it somewhat. She's not everyone's favorite, but one of mine.

The girl who I only found after knowing her for years. She looks for On the Origin of Species at the bookstore, shares a passion for good music and TV, and squeals when confronted with dogs or cats. I find myself wondering what took me so long to get to where we are. Don't want to let that, or her, go.

There's more, of course. Of the good and the bad. I'm not even going to pretend that I'm in everyone's good books, and that's exactly my point.

Sometimes it's important to think about who it is you want to bother with, and then bother.

2009/2010 Season Review: Man Utd’s Perspective

A couple of ill-thought comments from a disgruntled Arsenal fan inspired this, so bear with me.

Tonight marks the close of the 2009/2010 European football season, and while my interest in the Champions' League final will only last as long as the ice cream and sandwiches do, I think the season in general has been a pretty good one. For a long time now, pundits and personalities have been talking about how the English Premier League campaign this year has been arguably the best one in a while, breaking away from the traditional two horse race between United and either Chelsea, Arsenal or Liverpool. Granted, the Gunners did finish meekly, but there was a period where they looked like serious contenders.

The season was always going to be a tough one for United. Losing two world class players – one of them to your city rivals, as well – is never going to be easy for any side that has prided itself on its attacking flair and tendencies. The losses, coupled with injuries to key players all over the pitch, made the job that much tougher.

Still no excuse, of course. Every team faces its own injury problems, and one will rightly argue that a side with the resources that Old Trafford has (despite the Red Knight debacle) could have and should have plastered over the cracks left by the departures and casualties. In recent seasons such names as David Silva, Fernando Torres, Arjen Robben, Ronaldinho, Miguel Veloso and Sergio Aguero have been linked to the Red Devils, though like Alan Shearer so long ago, none of those moves came to fruition.

That being said, though, the failure to capture Alan Shearer (supposedly because Alex Ferguson would not give him penalty-taking duties over one Eric Cantona) paved the way for Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, and the super-sub (alongside Teddy Sheringham), wrote themselves into the history books at the Nou Camp about eleven years ago. Stroke of good fortune, perhaps? Solskjaer and United won numerous titles during his time there (I'm not even going to try to list them), and Shearer… well. Moving on.

Transfers aside (I've already talked about Dimitar Berbatov and Michael Owen at length, as well as my thoughts on Giuseppe Rossi and Gerard Pique), I think United can be satisfied with their season. One trophy, the Quarter-Finals of the Champions' League, second place in the domestic league. Not to gloat, but Liverpool and Arsenal fans, "Man U didn't win anything" isn't anything you can gloat about either, looking at what everyone was left with once the dust had settled. Fabregas pining for a return to Spain and Anfield's dynamic duo looking dejected on the final day of the season aren't exactly positive omens for the future, as much as signing one striker (who should have arrived at least six months ago)

Hats off to Chelsea, though, who went through a season that was at least as turbulent and disruptive as United's. Also facing injuries to players like Michael Essien and both Coles, as well as the unnecessary drama surrounding John Terry's debauchery, together with managerial change, they came out on top in a season where most backed Liverpool, and bagged themselves the FA Cup to boot. Scoring so many goals and beating all the top sides (something United almost did in their aforementioned treble season).

Fantastic results against big sides (Milan and Spurs immediately come to mind) and Rooney's emergence as one of the greats despite his tender age affords United fans some measure of relief, though not nearly as much as a big trophy would. All due respect to the Carling Cup, of course. What United can take heart from is that Antonio Valencia and Nani seem to have matured into really big game players, and others like Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes, Darren Fletcher, Edwin Van Der Sar, Patrice and Nemanja Vidic have continued to show why they warrant a place in the squad. The likes of Michael Carrick, Owen Hargreaves, Darron Gibson, Wes Brown and (sadly) Dimitar Berbatov will have to step up more in the months to come for United to improve on their second-placed finish, though.

So United didn't record their fourth consecutive Premier League title, and failed to set a new record for title wins that was for so long Anfield's. So Rooney didn't win the Golden Boot after scoring over thirty, creating a bunch more (including 9 goals and 5 assists in 9 for England) and winning the Player of the Year award. So the Champions's League eluded Ferguson again, after United finished as the British side that progressed the furthest alongside Arsenal. So United fell to such side as Burnley and Fulham and Everton, despite beating Arsenal, Liverpool and just about everyone else but Chelsea.

That's why the standings speak for themselves, though.

Am I disappointed that United finished like they did? Sure. Before the loss to Chelsea and the draw to Blackburn, the title was still firmly in the grasp of the wily old Scot. Poor performances can cost you, though, and they did. Still, in a season tinged with disappointment, I'm sure United fans will still rally behind their team, looking forward to 2010/2011. If it's any consolation to any of you, we still outdid the two other red teams, and I've yet to meet a Chelsea fan who has supported the side since Zola and Di Matteo were in it.

End

So that story is over. Did it even begin? Was it anything to anyone but me?

Always seemed like it wasn't happening at all anyway, that it wasn't part of the real world. Even when I made her mine.

That other time and place never came. Even though I waited, did all I could.

Still don't know how or why it came to this, but there's nothing to do but walk away. As hard as it is.

Things change, I guess. And maybe it's just left for everyone to see how much they have.

Was decided, bad sentence structure and all.

No more movie lines. No more lingering hugs, old-school music, National Geographic or laughing about douchebag friends. No more secret one-sided feelings bursting at the seams. No more being gutsy or honest or stupid. No more late night walks, inside jokes, wishlists, translations, numbered moods, re-watching TV shows and movies. No more surprise E-Mails or visits or roti john.

A long time ago it was more yes than no, now it's nothing at all.

Heart needs a break, and not the kind it's been getting.

Late Night

Long time ago, someone very dear to me said that she couldn't bear to listen to the Love Songs show weeknights on Class 95 because it was too painful. Back then, I nodded, saying I understood. I didn't, not until today. Don't think I can listen to a lot of things any more, not for a while yet. This isn't a love song, just something I wrote even before what most recently happened. Still apt, I guess, and like before, if you've been paying attention, there's more.

I miss you.
Waking up to a funny message or call.
Laughing about things and people and life and stuff.
The long talks we used to have everyday about everything.
Always I've thought things were good, great, fantastic.
The little things we always believed in.
Flowers, that blue one I got you that you liked and hid.
Late night walks and hugs and secrets.

I miss you.
Going to sleep with you on my mind.
Wondering if you felt the same way.
Time and place, you said, it was wrong.
Always seems to be wrong, but can't we make it right?
The big things that I said we could get around.
Maybe all I have left are the messages and memories.
It's just space you want, you say, but it feels like you're drifting away.

I miss you.
Getting tired of nothing you do.
Holding on when things seem bleak.
Not going home just to spend another minute with you.
Always I've been true, honest, gutsy, here.
Everything I feel I've poured out to you.
Nothing I do seems to work.
Alone again tonight.

I miss you.
Even though I know I shouldn't, shouldn't say it.
It's difficult not to, when I feel it.
It's true I was stupid, breaking my rules.
Always thought I could give you what you deserved.
Understood what that meant, what you wanted.
Until recently, I thought that you'd give this, give us a chance.
You stole my heart, broke it, still have it. Always will.

Want

"You don't always get what you want."

That's what she said to me so very long ago, though I'm reminded everyday.

I've always believed that you should at least try to get what you want though, if that makes you happy. I've been telling myself that to justify everything I've done recently. Maybe I'm right, maybe not. Who knows? Not me.

So it boils down to a matter of what I want.

I want that person, of course.

But not as much as I want her to be happy.

But right now it seems like the only thing I can do is wait. Wait for things to settle, for people to be ready. Then to see if it works, or happens.

In that other time and place.

What Now?

For the longest time, it all seemed set. Straightforward.

Graduate with decent, if not good, grades. Start work. Save. Get married to the obvious person.

Seems like another life, or the story of another person.

"I feel like you're a different person now."

That's what someone said to me a few days ago.

Gets that way sometimes, or maybe all the time, to everyone. Change. Maybe it's drastic, dramatic, or maybe it's gradual and gentle.

Circumstances, situations, feelings, people change.

Sometimes.

Not Going Anywhere

A bunch of people going through really rough patches the past few days or weeks, so hopefully things pick up for everyone. Developments have given some affirmation over difficult decisions, and others reason to doubt. For what it's worth, I think that even if mistakes have been made, the only thing that that means is that you have more opportunity to grow, instead. Cliché, I know, and you know how much I hate those.

Readers of this space – both the observant regulars and the casual ones – would have guessed by now that something's up. Some accost and try and cajole secrets to be revealed, but I'll just say that I'm not comfortable being too open about certain things.

But you write about those things on your awesome blog, you cry out. Yes, yes I do. And I write only as much as I am comfortable sharing right now. The clever ones may have seen more amidst the nonsense, perhaps, but the fact remains that right now, as ever, things are uncertain, and there's little point in raising any hopes for something that is at best a slim possibility. I'm not pessimistic, just realistic.

That being said, it's not like I don't talk or think about it.

"She sounds like a keeper."

"She is."

Conversation with a friend of mine only recently.

Thing is, I still don't really know what she thinks.

Sometimes it feels right, and it's going to work simply because it seems so natural. Other times it feels like I'm fishing with the wrong bait. Or no bait at all. Watching that one get away.

Those times it feels like nothing is going anywhere.

But I guess the only thing to do is stick.

I'm not going anywhere.

Trust

A funny thing.

Can't hold it, yet it weighs heavily.

Can't put a price to it, but it's valued above all else.

Can't paint it, picture it, but you can see when it's there.

Takes an age to build up, and can be destroyed in an instant.

And no matter how much you think you have, sometimes it's not enough.

Promises

Lately that word's been cropping up a lot. With you.

Some people use it lightly, though I'd like to think I'm not one of them. Promises I make, I keep. Trust me.

At the same time, I'd expect the same from anyone else.

You can't always ask for a promise though. And I'm not.

And sometimes you just have to go with it, even without that assurance.

Hold That Thought

Many of us are guilty of wishful thinking. Few more so than me. The events of the last few weeks have given me a lot to think about, to dream about. To hope for. Your fault, heh.

Dangerous thing, this. Hope. Lost it a long time ago.

So I've decided to discard it. The cliché of there always being hope is a nice thought, but with hope comes expectation and the possibility of disappointment and heartbreak. Again.

I'm not pessimistic though. Even though I'm sad.

Just realistic. Thoughtful, pensive, broody.

Things don't happen unless you do something, I believe. So that's what I'll do. What I'm doing. Right place at the right time. Right person.

Holding that thought. Holding on for you.

Also, hello to the new visitors.

Little Miss Honesty

"Oh, you wanna hear something honest?"

"Always."

"I do kinda miss you."

"Smiling like an idiot now."

"Really? Haha."

"Really."

Really. Honesty rocks.

A Mess

I wonder, sometimes, many times, where everything is going. Especially with you.

Those closest to me joke about things that affect me the most, and truth be told I'm perfectly alright with the jibes. Humor and laughter are important parts of my life.

But then there are times where I start to wonder if it's all going to be one big joke and nothing else.

Almost unreal how things have worked out, the way I'm spending my time. How I think only of you.

Never thought it would be this way, but then who can ever predict how anything turns out?

Not me, not now. Sometimes I'm afraid to hope.

May

For the longest time, the month was a really exciting, meaningful one for me.

A lot has changed in the past year or so, and now this period doesn't hold the wonder it used to.

No bitterness, just the way things are.

Sleep

For most my life I've been able to fall asleep rather easily, and am usually a rather good morning person. Lately though, it's taken a long time to go to sleep.

Of course, it's by choice.

"Worth losing sleep over"

That's what someone said. I guess she was right, in more ways than one.

Bias

Normally, I'm against bias, striving for something impartial and fair and just. Lately, though, I've been talking to someone a lot and that someone keeps saying I'm biased.

They point to the fact that I seem to tolerate certain things that I normally wouldn't, and then triumphantly exclaim, with much aplomb, that such an overwhelming bias seems to be demonstrated by your truly. But that's just it, I think. Embracing someone in spite of all the things you normally wouldn't.

Maybe I am supremely biased, but so what? That's just the thing. Isn't that what love is?

The best kind of bias.

Sometimes

Sometimes it feels like we're as close as two people can be, closer than anything or anyone anywhere and anytime. When I'm holding you, hand-in-hand, face in your hair.

Other times it feels like you're a million miles away. And it's those times that I realize how much I want you, when I'd walk those miles to be with you.

Man Utd 3-1 Tottenham

It's said that you make your own luck, and detractors of Manchester United will be pointing to the fortune of the Red Devils as they came away with a 3-1 win at Old Trafford against a distinctly uninspired Spurs earlier today. Two penalties sent United back to the summit of the Premier League, but unlike the controversy that surrounded the one won by Michael Carrick at White Hart Lane earlier this season, the brace that Ryan Giggs dispatched were as clear as any in recent memory.

After a lackluster first half, characterized more by Wilson Palacious' poor performance than anything else, United fans may have been worried. Missing the mercurial Wayne Rooney, the home side lined up 4-5-1, with Dimitar Berbatov spearheading the team's attack against the side that brought him to English football. The lanky Bulgarian has been criticized from nearly all corners since he signed for Sir Alex Ferguson's side, with many claiming his "languid" approach did not gel with the quick style that United so enjoy. Rooney himself seems a much better alternative, certainly, and few would argue against it. Carlos Tevez seemed liked a better choice as well, and his form for the blue half of Manchester suggests that perhaps United would have been better off spending a significant chunk of Cristiano Ronaldo's transfer fee on retaining the tenacious Argentine rather than keep faith in the striker who seems a mere shadow of Eric Cantona.

Tevez, and probably Rooney, for the matter, would not have been able to find Patrice Evra with a delicate backheel after holding off an opposing defender, winning the penalty that lead to the opening goal, however. Indeed, Wayne Rooney's biggest weakness is perhaps his temperament and after a frustrating 45 minutes, he probably would have swung wildly at the ball (or a defender) stuck under his feet. Granted, Rooney's attitude has improved at least as much as his finishing, but the flak that Berbatov receives is overwhelming at the best of times, and it is unfair to expect the same kind of performances he enjoyed at Spurs and Leverkusen when he is now played alone upfront against teams set out to defend. An accomplished performance from the Bulgarian against a team who can be genuinely considered a "Top Four Side".

Much of the hype before the game surrounded the sensational form of Gareth Bale, touted by some as the next Ryan Giggs. Comparisons to the Welsh legend are inevitable, one supposes, seeing as how both share so many attributes. Still, on the day, the senior Welshman scored twice, leading his team to victory, while Bale had his hands full shackling Antonio Valencia, who went off injured.

Another United casualty, Patrice Evra, appeared to be suffering from illness rather than injury, with the commentators joking that his retching on the field was in part due to the introduction of a returning Aaron Lennon. But the best reactions on the night were reserved, deservedly, for Nani's delicate chip for United's second goal after being put through by young Macheda, impressing during his short cameo appearance. The Italian, alongside United's other substitutions, bringing on John O'Shea as well as Michael Carrick, demonstrated a strength in depth that just about every club in the division would envy. Harry Redknapp, on the other hand, was forced to shuffle his players around, and saw his side concede almost immediately after taking off Jermaine Defoe, arguably their best striker. The introduction of Chelsea old boy Eidur Gudjohnsen did little to affect the course of the game, though, with Nemaja Vidic's timely interception in particular nullifying the Icelandic forward's contribution. Tom Huddlestone, David Bentley and Luka Modric especially were surprisingly disappointing as well, and so was Roman Pavlyuchenko, though after the Russia's shocking misses against Chelsea last time out one wonders if that was to be expected. With all of Tottenham's attacking flair, it took a combination of a determined leap from their captain Ledley King – and poor positioning from Rafael Da Silva – to bag a goal, albeit from a set piece.

Ultimately, the result may have boiled down to a series of errors from an underperforming Tottenham side rather than a rampant Red Devils. The scoreline did not flatter the home side, yet they did not play particularly well. United and their fans will be delighted with the result against a side in top form. Denying the men from London a famous hat-trick of wins against the big sides, the Red Devils now need to maintain their form, and their fortune, and hope that the other Londeners throw their league aspirations away.

Buffed

I can still remember my first day as a UB student.

Walked into that big-ass lecture theatre, sat myself down. Picked the second-last seat in the row, since it was both convenient and not as standoff-ish as plonking yourself down in the very last seat and giving everyone reason to avoid saying "excuse me" on the first day of school, bright and early.

Saw an army buddy, in those Oakleys that I had too (I got them first!). Looked around again.

Quirky-looking girl shuffled in, pushing her glasses up her nose nervously. Pointed at the empty seat.

"Eh-eh-excuse me. But can I sit here?"

I stifled a chuckle, her huge black plastic rims and checkered shirt settling down as well.

Couple hours later, I was outside the freezing room, lining up for free coffee (remember those?), and that quiet girl was cursing like a drunken sailor together with this white girl with loud eyeshadow.

Spent the first few months around the same group of people that the seniors made us run around Orchard with, and to this day it's some of these people who remain some of my most favorite persons. Some I don't talk to or see as much as I'd like, but maybe that will change. Maybe. Some of them shower in four minutes and have an obsession with Pokemon. Others work themselves up into a frantic frenzy about a possibly wrongly-answered question in a Math test, only to ace it, deeming it "OK lah."

Met a few other people quite soon after. Guy with a spandex fetish. Another funky girl with short hair. The business fella. Atas one.

Some time later, grew close to a few others. The one on vacation from Taiwan, with whom things have sometimes been tenuous. He can remember that Vitamin C deficiency leads to scurvy. And come up with an almost encyclopedic amount of written material on command, it seems.

There was a year or so where I tolerated some questionable characters and behavior from certain individuals, though that finally stopped. Some say it should have happened sooner, others say I was stupid to begin with. They're all probably right.

Finally got to know the girl with flappy ears, the innocent short one, and that foul-mouthed White Girl from earlier, who by now was happily attached (and perpetually… attached) to Mr. Spandex. Also people like the celebrity from Chestnut Drive, Captain Cap, the Family Man, the one with the Joker-smile, a Minah, Guiza, Headphone Girl, Baking Girl, Madame President, Orange Pants, Purple Hair. Good times.

Awesome times.

Laughing, football, random outings, projects, pretending to study.

Huddled at Lido late in the evening with Flappy and Shorty, sighing as they tried to make me feel better about things. Crash course in stats, Mortal Kombat with White Girl at West Coast. Driving back and watching the sun set in the distance.

McDonald's breakfasts and introduction to ice cream cakes with the chart-topper from Chestnut Drive. Wonder if she still scribbles, and if she can park yet.

A whole lot of nonsense, usually involving music and singing and acting like an idiot, with Captain Cap and Family Man. I won't forget what you got me to do at Fish & Co. Or the A1 boyband antics. Garlic Naan in Kembangan.

Talking about so many things with Joker Smile dude and his Liquid Designer. DotA, United and Liverpool, NS, people, life. Late night French Fries with Cap'n Cap and Family Man in Chinatown.

LAN sessions with many of them. Ownage and being owned. Terrorists, Zombies, Scouts, Creeps.

Deal with that Minah, so she'd stop smacking me. But she still does, from time to time. Prata and KFC suppers.

Heckload of time with Guiza, not only because of the craptastic amount of work and classes we got dumped together in. Joined by Headphone Girl, with many stupidly late nights spent trying to start studying. Failing but not caring most times.

Brownies and burgers and lollipops and CDs and plastic straw constructions from Baking Girl.

Madame President sat down with me in the smelly canteen, asked me to do something I didn't originally believe in. Convinced me I could and should do it. I don't regret it, and it's perhaps something that really defined the way my time went, and for that I'm thankful and honored. She still owes me dinner.

Crazy talk with Orange Pants. Late night train rides with her red-eyed and wobbly, laughing, people watching us uneasily. Silly quack.

Inside jokes and 80's music with Purple Hair. Mythbusters, Toto, Roti John, b.o.b., Attenborough, black holes, quantum physics, Friends.

Friends.

That's what I remember, look back fondly at, when looking at the past few years. Haven't mentioned everyone. Not nearly. Not even close.

Amazing

Past few days have been spectacular, actually. Filled with things I didn't expect, couldn't have asked for. You. With me. Here.

Nothing earth-shattering or world-changing, I think, but still. Spectacular to me, because it just is.

Everything brings back memories, but now better ones are being forged.

Surprises and quiet walks, cheery rain and closeness. Face in your hair.

C'mere. Sorry 'bout tickling your neck.

Stupid

Everyone is stupid from time to time. Some have flashes of inspired stupidity more often than others, and there are those who seem to be perpetually mired in its depths. I'm sorry I'm stupid.

My turn. Drop everything and run to me. It'll work. I promise.

Definitions

I recently read about how some believe love is when you care about someone or something more than caring about yourself.

Another one was that love was something that opened a chamber of your heart to happiness and pain, lots of both, but when you feel that the pain is worth it all.

Someone asked about happiness, if one would sacrifice his or hers to avoid misery. But can you be not miserable if you aren't happy? But can you be happy and miserable at the same time?

Questions, abstract thoughts, all without any resolution, it seems. But I love you, you make me happy and sad. And it's worth it.

What You Don’t See

Another long day.
                                  So close to touch but yet so far
And night full of thoughts.
                                 With leaves and stars and walks all week
It's hard, I say.
                                 It seems no matter where you are
Doing what you ought.
                                 With just a smile my knees go weak

You ask what's wrong.
                                 It's bittersweet with ups and down
Under that tree.
                                 The midnight talks and long rides home
Been there all along.
                                 With you the smiles are all around
And always I've seen.
                                 But in the end I'm still alone

Back To The Real World

"Eye level"

And she rose up from the seat shaped like a tree stump, planting herself on the similarly-decorated table. For a moment she said nothing more, eyes flashing under the moonlight, the amber glow of the streetlamps casting a yellow haze on the night. The breeze snaked through the quiet buildings, lending a coolness to the warm evening. A wisp of hair, unruly and disobedient, fell across her eyes and she flicked it over a bare shoulder.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Doing good?"

"Mhmm."

"Thanks for tonight."

"You don't have to thank me. I like nights like this."

"I like the company."

A smile, and then mirrored an instant later. Looking away after a long heartbeat, before his gaze trailed back. Absently reaching. A Beatles classic as a group of strangers walked past in the distance, their laughter echoing that of the midnight pair under the leaves and stars. Staring.

"We should be getting back."

"In a minute."

And so the minute passed, and two pairs of footsteps moved through the gloom. Hands reaching for each other in the quiet, over imagined obstacles.

"We could… stay."

"No, no we can't. Time to get back to the real world."

"This is the real world to me. This is more real than anything else."

"Don't."

"It's true."

"I know. I just don't know what it is you see. I don't understand."

"And that's just one more thing to add to the list of things I love about you."

"Stop -"

"Hammertime?"

Laughter once more. They stepped around dirt and debris, watching for cars and hidden steps. Arms around one another, silent except for the sighs.

"Thank you."

"I told you, you didn't have to thank me."

"You gave me a night where I couldn't stop smiling. For that I can't thank you enough."

Another smile, matched once more. Hair in his face.

"Let's go."

"Mhmm."

An embrace.

"Good night."

That Hocus Pocus

Been a strange couple of weeks, to say the least. With work piling up, the last thing anyone needs is more stuff on their plate.

But here it is. Quite suddenly, unexpectedly, irresistibly. Just like you.

I love it. I love everything that's going on and hate it all the same.

Questions have been raised, whispers and doubts. Concerns of if's and should's and thoughts of how things may have been different. About being selfish or sneaky, long phone calls and big hugs and silly smiles. Movies and bread. Holding you.

How's it going to end? I want you for myself. All of you.

Wishlist

Normally I'm against posts that do nothing but announce to the world what you want for your birthday, but mine is still a ways away, and I'm just killing time anyway. Here goes.

Football every week, with the people I've been playing with. All of them

Electric shaver, one of those nice ones

Louder, clearer earphones and your taste in great songs.

Ice cream with you.

Cash, lots of it so I could get you what you wanted.

Irritating people to go away and for you to be here.

All and everything I want, no matter the cost

To know sign language

A new shirt. Purple, maybe like the one you like.

You and only you.

Bittersweet

What do you do when the thing that makes you happiest also makes you sad?

"I miss you."

"Don't."

"Too late."

"That could be something from a movie."

"You're the star even if that movie's never shot."

Starry Starry Night

A long, long day.

Started and ended almost magically, with time seeming to vanish and stars appearing in the purple skies.

Walking along, the view was stunning, and that was before I even looked up at the clouds.

Distractions

Ton of work to do. Things to write and review, edit and compile.

Yet I find my attention fixated on things anything but academic. Losing sleep, long moments in silence, echoing laughter punctuated by knowing smiles.

Honesty has always been something I've advocated, believed in, practiced. It can be scary sometimes, I'm told, but then in those times I find myself realizing that there is little need to be anything but totally truthful, baring it all with nothing to hide. Frighteningly so, but then lately there have been a few uncommon labels being cast about.

Is that so wrong?

Sinister romantic.

The Fool

Exam in less than half an hour, and my mind is filled with a vision, but not the neurology kind that is being tested.

Tragic Relief

"If it's any consolation, you already make me happy."

"Then I now have a reason to smile tonight."

Another time and place.

While You Were Sleeping

I think you're sleeping.

I hope you sleep well, and that when you wakr up, you feel better.

Because like I've been telling you all this time, you're someone who means alot to me, more than anything or anyone.

And there's a reason for that, many reasons.

But i've told you all of them already, yet I feel you still don't know.

I'm here, if you ever feel that you need anything.

Pensive

Been a whirlwind past couple of days, so far. Pizza and teriyaki too, which is always good, but food aside it's been eventful, if without mention. Things have happened which weren't expected or planned or envisioned, and while matters aren't at their best states - as far as I'm concerned - they could be much, much, worse.

Makes me wonder though, if that's even an acceptable attitude. Should I be settle for a result that leaves things just ok?

A few people said recently, and I do agree that, everyone is entitled to pursue their own happiness.

I'd like to think that too, though often times you have to think about things beyond your own world and life.

Hm.

Joke

Sometimes when I try and be serious, when I'm more serious than I've ever been, people don't get it.

Not everything is a joke, and sometimes what I've already said what I wanted, though maybe it isn't what I should have.

Oh The Movie Never Ends

Someone dear to me said recently that I should write a book or movie, seeing as how I am "full of cheesy lines". While I'm sure (or I hope) that it was meant as a friendly compliment, often times I wonder about things to do with things like that.

Vague, I know.

Alot of things going on now, if it were to be made a movie, the plot would be so convoluted I wouldn't know where to begin.

Probably with the simple question of "How are you?"

Something quite often overlooked, but a question that can mean and reveal so much, both in the manner of asking and answering.

Quite a few people around me facing one problem or another in their own little movies nowadays. Issues with space and time, problems unsaid and unspoken, melancholy vibes, stress and anxiety.

Sometimes I feel like the things I tend to wrest with in my head aren't all that serious, seeming trivial when compared to how others are. I can smile, laugh, joke that "that's what she said" and go off on ice-cream and cookie adventures, yet some say I've become broody. Tsk. I hate party-poopers.

I catch myself from time to time in the midst of doing something I know isn't smart or right or both. Yet I keep on going back to it, knowing it won't end well and that it's all for naught. Why? I tell myself that I need to stop, to forget it, to get past this thing. Then it happens again, every day.

I ask questions and dodge others, offer advice but don't take my own. What the hell am I doing?

How are you, really, really?

Fore!

About a year ago, I wrote a little something about Manchester United thoroughly whipping the boys of the Emirates. This time, though, the old enemy managed to rally and romp to a thumping win over Porto, and without their talismanic captain Cesc Fabregas.

Like their bitter rivals, United also faced a recent winner of the European Cup in an aging AC Milan, though most will agree that the difference in quality between the Rossoneri and the Dragoes are plain to see. Brilliantly-named forward Hulk notwithstanding, I'd bet that most fans will agree that the Italians are a much sterner test. Yes, Arsenal had to come from behind, but it was their own doing anyway.

Anyway.

The big story going into the mouthwatering tie at Old Trafford was the return of icon David Beckham, of course. Disappointingly, perhaps, he only made a short cameo at near the end of the fixture, and that when it seemed academic. He did, however, provide Milan with perhaps their best chances; a quite stunning volley and a teasing cross which Inzaghi contrived to miss from inside the six-yard box.

In the end, as was expected, Wayne Rooney saw that the Red Devils were headed (pun, see!) to the quarter-finals, and as so aptly pointed out by others before me, it is telling that among all the comparisons to another former United number 7, the expensively-assembled side from Madrid were knocked out by another team they pried a starlet from with the promise of success and wealth. Ronaldo, Kaka, Benzema and friends will be watching from the stands, I'm sure, when the showpiece final is held at the Bernabeu in a couple of months.

As far as the actual match went, much praise has been heaped on both Sir Alex Ferguson and Park Ji-Sung. I refuse to say Ji-Sung Park, or, as a certain "pundit" calls him, Sun Ji Park, obviously mixing him up with Sun Ji Hai, his former team mate at Man City. And he gets paid to talk like that?

Anyway.

Wily veteran, cagey old war dog, crazy Scot. We all have our own nicknames for the United gaffer, but at Old Trafford and pit against relative newcomer Leonardo, he showed why he has put so much faith in his Korean midfielder. Throughout the entire 90 minutes, I don't think Pirlo got more than one through ball to assist in a decent attacking move. How Leonardo must have wished he was back on the pitch to match his dazzling talents against the likes of what has been a shaky United back-line.

Yet the United defence held firm, in no small part thanks to the non-contribution of "The Hunter" Klas-Jan Huntelaar. If this was anything to go by, he might be hunting for a new club soon enough. Fans of Liverpool berate Dirk Kuyt's tendency to shoot straight at the 'keeper when presented with a chance (though it trickles in for some reason), but at least the pseudo-winger manages to get a few chances on target. His Dutch counterpart, unwanted by an aforementioned Spanish giant, did less than Berbatov, and the laid-back Bulgarian only came on in the second half, with United comfortable.

Gary Neville and young deputy Rafael both did superbly, and I now (and have been) question those who called the Brazilian's earlier showing against Milan troubled. I though he coped well against Ronaldinho, who was another non-factor this time. Evra as always was dependable, providing solid cover and an attacking thrust down the left to compliment the ever-surprising Nani. Vidic and Ferdinand, for so long mainstays and mammoths in the United backline, nullified the three-pronged attack of the opposition. Hopefully (for United fans) they can both stay fit and avoid suspensions.

But Pato and Nesta were missing, detractors of United cry. True. But they both played in the reverse fixture, and United won that one. And United were without Wes Brown, Anderson, Ryan Giggs, Owen Hargreaves, Michael Owen and Michael Carrick.

And still brushed aside a team that is oozing with talent, despite the fact that most of them are fast-approaching the time where one considers his pension.

In a season where Wayne Rooney seems to be carrying the burden of launching United towards the goal of domestic and European success, one would be wise to take a close look at what the whole team is capable of, when Sir Alex gets his thinking cap straight. A back four shutting out a two-time Player of the Year. A midfield able to be steely and stylish at the same time, using pace, power or panache when the situation calls for it. And a forward which opponents have called the best in the world, complete, and awesome.

Four-nil.

Attics

Say you're at the door of a burning building, on the verge of collapse. Before you lie three rooms, each equidistant from where you stand, and each holding one individual. From where you are, you can see clearly who is in which room. You have only enough time, courage, strength and luck to run in and save ONE person. What do you do?

1. Save your elderly mother, who has raised you and showered you with love since infancy

2. Save a young, enterprising, aspiring scientist who has recently announced that he has formulated a cure for cancer, HIV, SARS and herpes. This cure is cheap, readily available and proven to work for everyone. Unfortunately, there is no copy of this miracle cure save for what is in his mind.

3. Save a newborn baby, who is otherwise healthy and unrelated to you

4. Watch, recording and post it on YouTube

5. Flee!

Go.

A Hard Drive

I've always been a computer addict or junkie, whatever you want to call it. I remember messing around on an ancient piece of equipment back when I stayed at Jalan Punai, when you still had to type win to get to Windows. 3.1.

That was quite epic.

This is actually the first laptop I've owned, though I did have a desktop before that. Many people don't exactly approve of the Sony Vaio, but it's served me well enough for the last three years or so, broken letter "E" aside. But then the hard disk died on me.

I was, of course, gutted. Losing all my music, including the stuff from Boyce Avenue and Norwegian Recycling was bone-crunchingly annoying, and right now my collection is still in the single digits. Piracy, yay.

I also lost every school assignment that I've compiled and worked on the past few years. Research papers, videos, presentations, designs, recordings, essays, articles, lists, spreadsheets, documents. Argh.

Photos are alright, I guess, with the advent of Facebook. Everything is online anyway, so they're easily replaced.

No real video games of note other than Team Fortress 2 and Football Manager 2010. The first has already been replaced, thankfully, but the latter's savegame is a lost cause. Alas, my heroics with Darlington will go to waste.

But thinking about everything that's gone now, I realize that among the comics and MP3's and movies and documents and viruses, I've lost something that is truly dear and irreplaceable to me. A long, long, time ago (or what seemed it), someone very special to me made me something. As far as I know, there's only the one (soft) copy of that thing.

Or there was.

Gone now, damneth.

Got a Feeling

Went to bed last night before ten, was tired and drained.

Kept waking up every hour or so, for no reason in particular, all through the night.

Dropped my phone after trying to turn off the alarm, though I was already obviously awake.

Heard the same Black Eyed Peas song four times within fifteen minutes before 8am.

Fell asleep in class and was noticed by the teacher, who was kind enough to put forth a question that was answerable anyway.

Got caught in a massive traffic jam at 10am.

Came home to unappetizing leftovers, though not of any fault of the cook.

And it isn't even lunch-time yet, sigh.

Number Two

Second month of 2010 already, damn time flies.

Seems that alot is happening very very quickly to me and those around me, some of which are good and some of which not so fantastic. Looks like time will tell how it all plays out.

Right now I just want to lie down and switch off my brain.

Arsenal 1-3 Man Utd: Spoiler Free!

And they said it was going to be Arsenal's year.

For all the hype of the potential of Wenger's young squad, the mercurial maturation of Fabregas, the talismanic trickery of Arshavin or the pulsating pace of Walcott, the team that once earned the tag of "the Invincibles" failed spectacularly in living up to the labels and legacies of their predecessors.

"Gunners out-gunned" will be a much-repeated headline all over Britain and other Premier League-crazy areas like here in Singapore as the fallout of the match at the Emirates begins to take hold. And it will be a stunningly accurate summary of the meeting between two of European football's longest-serving and most successful managers, between the teams that have long boasted the most attractive football in the League.

Many Arsenal fans will cry out and be quick to remind others that their squad was missing their regular goal-machine Robin Van Persie, nursing an injury. Still, for a team gunning (pun intended) for top honors to rely so much on an injury-prone striker is distressing, to say the least. Critics may argue, though, that the Red Devils are guilty of the same crime, but one will point out that the United No. 10 is much more robust than the somewhat-fragile Dutchman.

Brazilian-born Croat Eduardo was also missing for Arsenal, of course, which definitely would have contributed to Arsenal's lack of bite upfront. Prudent observers, however, will realize that United were also missing the first-choice pairing at the back of Ferdinand and Vidic, arguably one of the best partnerships in Europe over the last few years. Other casualties to injury of late, Thomas Vermaelen and Gael Clichy, featured instead for the Gunners and while Vermaelen bagged a superb consolation for his seventh goal in a stellar debut season, Clichy was found wanting yet again, as he was against Ashely Young mid-week. Given Ashley Cole's and Kieran Gibbs' past misfortunes against Man Utd, it was perhaps inevitable. And when the only other replacements that Wenger had at his disposal were the aged Sol Campbell and Mikael Silvestre, problems are aplenty.

Manchester United's defence has long been the subject of both praise and scrutiny, often at the same time. With Gary Neville, Ferdinand and Vidic missing for large parts of the past year or more, the burden of responsibility has been laid on what many consider to be the unproven shoulders of Johnny Evans, Wes Brown and the Da Silva twins, Rafael and Fabio. Evans had a decent game for the most part, with a couple of errors that went unpunished as well as excellent interventions on several occasions, one fine tackle in particular that stopped Theo Walcott as the forward looked to use his pace to deadly effect. Rafael again proved every bit the Brazilian that he is, surging forward to aid United's attacking cause, and showing an enthusiasm that at times bordered on the reckless. In time, his defensive awareness should improve, and playing alongside the excellent Patrice Evra will not hurt him in the very least. Wes Brown, though, appears set to follow the footsteps of Phil Neville, Nicky Butt and Louis Saha; established and perhaps international players who are unable to hold down a place in the United first team due to a lack form, fitness, ability or the combination of the three. So often touted as an exciting prospect in defence, he is not the youngster he was so very long ago, and the purchase of Chris Smalling and the emergence of Ritchie De Laet alongside the Da Silva twins will not bode well for him.

For much of January, attention has been placed on off-the-field matters for the big names in the Premier League: American debt and unpaid wages, one-finger salutes and hurled coins, roving England captains and sulking Brazilian wingers. The match itself, though, was a thrilling contest (unless you are an Arsenal fan) filled with end-to-end action and somewhat surprisingly, only one caution. It is perhaps a testament to the professionalism and respect that the two teams and managers have for each other that the days of air-borne pasta and incidents of assault against Jose Antonio Reyes are as long-gone as the spats between Roy Keane and Patrick Viera.

It may have been wise, though, for Arsenal to have looked at their former captain. Perhaps more so than any other instance in the past, Fabregas proved that while he may stroke the ball better than anyone else in the Premier League, he lacks the leadership that Viera and then Henry provided on the pitch. Hailed and renown for his ability to turn a match on its head for the club he captains, he was left a spectator for the most part, often reduced to pot shots from distance, and never really troubled Edwin Van Der Sar and unable to influence the game in any sense. True enough, he has many years to develop that part of his game, but in a world where immediate prizes are valued over intagible potential, one questions if that is a worthy excuse. Andrei Arshavin, however, proved a constant thorn in United's side, though his attacking thrust was aided in no small part by the forward-thinking mindset of marker Rafael Da Silva. Even the Russian, however, was unable to come anywhere close to the astronomical heights he has so often reached during his time with the Gunners and he was thwarted time and again by the iron curtain of the makeshift United backline.

A good defence might give you a chance to win games, but to actually win you need a good attack, and United put on a clinic for Wenger, so long an advocate of free-flowing attacking football. Wayne Rooney, in the form of his life, hounded the entire Arsenal team like a man possessed, taking his goal expertly in the week that Ruud Van Nistelrooy opted for the Bundesliga rather than a return to the Premier League. There are many calls for Rooney to take over the England captaincy from a certain overly-friendly John Terry, and displays like this, combining pace, precision and passion show just why he seems to be destined for that mantle and more. Nani appears to have finally stepped out from the shadow of compatriot Cristiano Ronaldo, shedding his much-maligned persona of the Portugese who does little but acrobatics upon the rare goal and more often when tackled. If you would have told the average United fan a month ago that Nani would be instrumental in three wins in little over a week, he would have laughed in your face. A Man-of-the-Match performance against the old enemies from North London showed just how much improved he is. Michael Carrick, together with a vintage Paul Scholes display and the ever-improving Darren Fletcher effectively dictated the pace of the game, matching and surpassing their opponent's skill, strength and stamina.

During this pivotal juncture of the Premier League, Arsene Wenger's squad must now find a way to turn things around as they look to meet Chelsea and then Liverpool in the coming weeks. Sir Alex Ferguson on the other hand, sees his United side (and Wayne Rooney in particular) hitting fine form in the new year, as they always have. There is a whole lot of football to be played yet, but judging from Sunday, Wenger's boys have some growing up to do and Ferguson's men have begun to find their feet this season.

A Thousand Miles

I should have been in New York now.

Technically speaking, of course, I wasn't denied entry. But then I'm still waiting for an answer from the US Embassy.

Some people tell me that it worked out for the best. That this way, I can go on with the things that are happening with my life. Most of them the same people who were trying so hard to convince me that a semester-long exchange program is an opportunity of a lifetime.

Meh.

Alot of things pissing me of royally right about now.

People acting stupidly, and my cat just pulled my keyboard off the table.

Meh.

Stuck

I haven't posted anything here for ages.

I'm not entirely sure why, just keep getting caught up with other things or distracted or maybe haven't really gotten into the mood yet.

Hrm.