the greatest whinery this side of cyberia

it has been a while. youthful rambles, angst laden words. gone. all these are as dust in the wind... gone from the NOW, the present, out of mind. Yet it lingers on in other forms. such is life. sand swept from one dune to another, in the endless every-growing desert. One dune dies to give way to another. What is the demise of a grain of sand to the sand dune of inevitable time? history comes and goes but it is never truly away. this is it?

logic and emotions. Logic, the building block of rational thought, Emotion, the starting point of feelings. Will the two ever meet? Like how will boxes ever become a sphere? How will a sphere ever fit into a box? What happens when the box tries to fit in? Will it be a rounded box, or a knobbly sphere? Make the boxes small enough, and stack it to something largely spherical. Link the spheres in tight lattices tightly, and bind it to something akin to a box. Refine and permutate your rational thoughts, and you may almost be emotional. Straighten and align your swirly emotions, and you make be vaguely logical. Logic mimicking emotion, the reason to be unreasoned. Emotions traced and identified, the uncertain made certain. In my months of confusion, when my sphere of boxes got mixed with my lattice of spheres. Was I round or was I square, I never knew for certain. Confusion reigned and consternation abound. But I have now discovered the flaw, and the task ahead is clear. To keep the box...

Repudiation. It has been a while. 1 year 4 mths to be exact. Parties willing then had availed themselves to be bound by the terms and conditions implicit in the meeting of minds. Obligations formed and discharges, breaches happened waived and forgotten. Was there a termination clause forgotten? It is an obligation always to waive the breach? Is there a price to pay at the end of the day, is all expected to perform everything regardless? Fatigue. So tired, oh so tired. So much gone into this recent transaction. Social. What social life? none left. busy busy busy....bah. banked on happiness, took charge of life secured upon nothing, discharged outright.

I reread my previous post, and realised 2 things: It has been long since I last posted. Much has also happened since, that changed much that has not been posted. It seems, I have moved on. The desert has chanced upon rain. Where once I had looked to the earth and dust, I now gaze upon the celestial bodies. Where once I had danced upon the tides of change, I now stand firmly on the rocks of time. I have grown, in matters of perspective. I will grow, in matters of faith. Where much was taken away, much will now be given. What was lost is of no matter, so long as you still have the means to create new ones. The discovery has begun and the due diligence done; The filings has been made and the searches paid. All that is left to do is wait.

Never thought I will be so hooked, but here I am waxing lyrical to any who will listen, to the wonders of K drama. Princess Hours, that which got me up till 8 am of non-stop marathon watching, straining eyes to read tiny chinese subs. The plot aint THAT great, and the cast is gorgeous but not THAT gorgoeus. But somehow, I was hooked. And the Scottish soundtrack keep playing and playing in my mind... even now, as I type, a full week after I first got hold of the series... 1 week and 3 repeats of it, I still rant about it. Something is wrong. Something NEEDS to be done. Perplexed. Adel told me that Goong was what made her feel like getting hitched. I had to agree - the show ooze romance. I do not claim to be a romantic, nor do I ever aspire to be one, but I must admit the show leaves such an after effect even on my person. Perhaps it is the stark contrast to the dryness at the moment. Or perhaps not. Confused. I hate confusion. ABHOR. But I cant help it. Confused AND perplexed. HELP. I ...

Dreams. Never would I imagine that I would be plagued by dreams. Unable to get good rest, aching from bad sleep. But given how interesting my dreams are, it is no wonder that sleep comes second. Every dream is so mama drama, so full of theaterics, I should perhaps pen them down.... And I realise I am semi-conscious when I dream... I remember my wry comments, my amusement at my funny dreams, and my schizoprenic personas which somehow co-existed in some happy bipartite entity in dreamland. And I can tweak what I do in the dreams, much like some interactive gameplay. Facinating... to relive, replay the dream at will, to permutate and experiment.... or to just lie at the back of my subconsiousness and enjoy the show. I crave good sleep. But do I really wanna give up the fun? Dreams. It has become so uncertain now, what my true dreams are. Remunerations or aspirations? Passion or prospects? Investments or enjoyments? And the stock mart has been oh-so-quiet I think I might as well quit. Drea...

As I type, I see raindrops forming on my window pane... Rain.... irony in itself. Part of the system that brings forth life, yet fearsome monster of nature if left unchecked... I read the latest Pratchett, a satirical spoof on the DV Code. I'm sure he doesnt mean to evoke such sentiments and and feelings as he wrote that comic nonsense, but as I read my last sentence of it, I cannot help but feel this overwheliming sense of IRONY. A spoof on a spoof of a spoof. A satire on a cynic's view of truth... how... apt. The darkness within, resonanting with the darkness without. The flicker of the inner light, reflecting the shadows that clouds the eyes. In the shadows do we hide from the harsh, uncompromising sun. In the shadows do we rot, as mould and mildew claim our substance. In the darkness do we transact in the deals unseen, profits unclean. In the darkness do we die, as greed and wrath claims our sanity. What are shadows but that which light does not shine on? What is darkness b...

Mind and the body, mind over body? Or is it body over the mind? Which controls which? Is the mind but a voice of the body? Or is the body a mere vessel for the mind? When it comes to the crunch, which one should prevail? Are we still human, without a mind? Are we still man, without a body? The unlikes fused together in a single entity. The dipolar melded into a riddle of contradictions and uncertainty. Heaven and earth combined in a nutshell? Will the lofty breeze of the heavens stirs the loamy earth? Will the sands and stones of the earth withstand the heaven's winds? touche.

The joy of a good deal, of spotting good value, and paying a pittance for that value. The joy of freedom, of having a good run on in the day, unfettered by a work schedule. The joy of accomplishment, of having finished all you set out to do, with the aid of frens. The joy of friendship, to know whom you may count on, in times of distress. Sadness, to know you no longer know what you knew. Sadness, to freeze on the floor, forgeting all steps that you learnt. Sadness, to no longer know those you knew. More joys than sadness. A happy day.

True happiness is in finding back what you thought was gone. True happiness is to know that all is not lost. True happiness is to know He has provided. True happiness is to know all is in control. True happiness is like fresh air after being imprisoned for days. True happiness is in being unshackled from the heavy chains. True happiness is like a good sleep after a sleepless week. True happiness is to see the smile on the face in the mirror. True happiness.

A rollercoaster week just went by. GOSH, SO TIRING. Not only had I been under constant stress (yes, that eye twitch is back), I am plagued by fatigue, sleeplessness and more stress. Health failing, regime dying, aging.Bah. Truly, life at its bottoms! Yet, I have learnt to let go. I have learnt to waive myself of certain self set standards. To laugh at oneself. I see the frens around me, who tries to hear me out, to advise, to counsel. Frens are precious! Realise as one gets older, frens get lesser. More mistrust, conflict in interest, or just more things on everyone's plate such that frenship has just been left at the edge of that overwhelimg plate. This little exercise in humility taught me what I missed. Truly, the upside. Now, I blog cos I feel so lost. The confusion after the storm or the disconcerting silence in the eye of the storm - I dunno yet. Let tomorrow decide for tomorrow. Surrender.

Armed with the teeth. This quote got me pretty tickled during the lecture: "the advocate is to be armed like a warrior, not an assassin..." How, erm, quaint an analogy! To slash and thrust with reason, not to make stabs in the dark with guile; To shoot volleys of well aimed retorts, not to poison the minds of the foe. To deflect verbal ripostes with procedural repose, not to spring unannounced in secret; To wage legal war with horns and clarion calls, not to silently stalk the time bar. Thus are we responsible for our profession - to be a legal warrior? I sense not, the link. So I am a black horse. The quizz caught me unaware, and the answer totally confounded me. Yet even more baffling is the motive of the quizzer, and the reaction to the answer. I sense a cause was made and lost. I sensed a disturbance in the force. So I remain, a dark, dark horse. Finally discharged my debt today. A promised given, and fully repaid. The repayment was entertaining whilst it lasted. The best...

What is charity but that which man use to salve his guilt? What is passion but pursuits by which man cannot find substitutes? What is friendship but social evidence that man cannot be islands? What is life but that which man use to collect memories? We spice up our own lives. We add what is salty, fiery, sour or sweet. We be spiceless is to be bland and tasteless. Yet. Is a spiced up life all the more worth living? Is spice the essence of life? Or does it just shadow it like a cloud over the sun? How often have we seared our tougue on some fiery brew? How many must fall as diabetic before we stop popping sweets? I have a sharp palate. But I value my life. Leave me my life bland, that I may have life eternal.

Lest I be mistaken for a sop who rant about love, I should first set the context of this entry: is was in response to 2 frens of mine who asked me such questions in the same day, and I am somewhat happy about my reply, so I shall blog it. In case I need it later. Hah. Nothing beats reading ur own advise, when you are an egolomaniac. "Love is but sadness gone right. To love is to willingly embrace the sorrow that comes, hoping that it will be alright in the end." In love, there are 99 things that can go wrong for that single thing that can go right. In love, there are all those bitter and sour moments that make the sweet ones seem so much more than they were. In love, you willingly stomach atrocities in the hope that the reward will balance it all. To be in love, is to go against the odds of failure, to go against the natural confluence of the four second rule. To be in love, is to abandon thought, to place logic, reason, self and future on the wagering table. To be in love, i...

I feel estranged from the world, stranded on this island in the middle of nowhere. Things passing through, that are none of my business that piqued by interest none the less. Very disturbing. I have lost my focus somewhere, somehow, and I go adrift like some rudderless ship. A floating island. Where did all my passion go to? The drive seemed to have gone south, and the vereve all but gone. Lacklustre living. It is the predicament you get into when u wish SO MUCH for silence, but you get creeped out when you FINALLY get it. Its so silent now I cannot even hear the crickets. SIGH. Half the time we rant about what we do not really care about, crave for that which harms us, and wish for what we abhor. Ironic. A living, floating island in a sea of people. Untouched by surrounding, unaffected by contact. An island ever adrift, finding no port, stopping for none. SIGH.

Dad never got picked up. My sis made a silly mistake of recording a morning arrival as an evening one. He took a cab back in the end. Heh, silly mistake indeed! Sigh, locked in over the weekend for nothing. Mistake. I got restarted with MoM MMPORG. As I played I wondered how my lifer would have been drastically diffferent if I had taken to gaming at a more tender age. Or if I bought a PSP or 2. I think I got catapualted into the realities of life pretty early, so perhaps I yearn a release via gaming means. Perhaps. Mistake? Watched "Breaking up". Jennif Aniston was great, and the movie was so real, it was like watchinbg 2 persons breaking up before ur eyes. You see the conflict, the interplay of emotions, and the stereotypical reaction and roles. You empathise, identify and feel this faint esonance that somewhere at some point in ur life this happened to you too. Harrowing. Mistakes!

At home on a friday night, stood up by my dad. Sigh. Feeling all tired from a full day of walking about town, yet still begrudging the locked-in time. Feeling lousy, feeling blue. Times like this when you need a nice chilled class of white and some autumn breeze... Morose. Feeling all alone in a crowd. Cut off from the main flow, slowly drying up, shriveled and sad. Why? Beats me. Perhaps it is PLC, this meaningless period that sapped all life out of me. Or perhaps it is the state of the market, in its all time bearishness, where even bonds have failed. Perhaps. Change. I have changed. So much, yet so gradual. Looking back, I have become a totally different person. I wonder if the old me would have hated the new. I wonder which is the old, and which is really the new. Was I ever myself? Am I multi-faceted, or have I been subconsciously wearing masks? If I am multi- faceted, are all sides equal, or are some greater than others? If it is a masquerade, when will the masks be lifted? When ...

It has been a while since the chrononicler chronicled. But such times of absence doth heighten the suspense that lies interim...Ok, I kid myself. I have only been lazy and busy. Indeed. Much has past in these few weeks For one, I have officially ended my student life. It did not end with a bang, but a meander of baloons in mid flight. It is however, a start. It was an unhappy start, filled with chagrin and wist, full of pit stops and regrets. Yet, it is a start, nevertheless. A start as good as any. Henceforth, it is head on towards the ups and downs of life as an adult. Sigh. For another, the week marks the start of my plc. Indeed, a period of mental pain, physical stagnation, and general lethargy - I feel so useless now copared to last month! I feel no rush of adrenaline when put to a case, and I feel no pride in what I do. What I am interested to learn, I know I know beyond what is taught; what I have no use for, I have no interest to learn. Caught in a dilemma as tight as a gordia...

It has come to an end. The weeks of work, regular hours and corporate surroundings has come to a stop today. Back again, to the unregulated world of lessons, lectures, tutorials and seminars. Boring... The weeks flew by, almost like a dream. It seemed like yesterday when I complained of idleness, for indeed, I made the very same complain yesterday. It seemed like eons ago, when the I was given work. Indeed, eons passed.... For now, the start of school, the end of work, the beginning of an ended cycle - who knows when or where it will stop? My fate is still uncertain.

and so it is.... My dream came true... the thawing of the ice around my naked room. Work piled up, only to be decimated by nightfall. A neverending game of hide and seek with the clock. Time slips by when one is happy, and flies by when you are busy. When you are happily busy, it zooms! and so it is.... Due in August.