i found it!

i found it, i found it! after days of hunting around, and helplessly asking people who mostly didn't have a clue about what i was talking about, i chanced upon what i have been looking for at suntec today. will go down there again and get it done tomorrow and hopefully i could collect them next week. fingers crossed that they'll look good when they come out.

presents-shopping progress hasn't been that good. only got some stupid toys for the kids today and they cost a bomb. kids nowadays are so pampered. hopefully i will have time to look for a present for mom again.

tomorrow is the supposed "farewell" dinner for me. i feel kinda embarrassed to be honest. it's weird, having to say goodbye so early because i probably won't see some people again for a long time.

and also, yuxiang is having his knee surgery tomorrow. hope it goes smoothly. will pay him a surprise visit after lunch at the hospital (okay it's pre-planned and he probably knows about it).

it's 2am and i'm still cultivating my own nonsense. still awake, i continue to move along...


+listening to: i can't help falling in love by pearl jam

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uninspired

today i felt aimless, like all wednesdays.

so i went to kinokuniya after work to refresh myself. it's been a loooooonnnnggg while since i've been in a bookstore. surrounded by the myriad of interesting things. the shelves have changed faces; titles once familar have been replaced with strange sounding euphemisms of even more perculiar phenonmena. one reads "Group Theory in the Bedroom, and Other Mathematical Diversions". interesting.


over dinner with a couple of good friends, the topic of time came up again. somehow it's always about time. the times that we laughed joyously together, the times that we shed our tears of sorrow, the times we blew out the birthday candles, the times we consoled one another about our losses and banes. and then there's the conscious thought about the time that i have left. 2 weeks.

i can't bear to think about it. so i listen: to those chunky riffs, the recurring double-triplets of the kick-drum, and that lingering melancholic voice...

In the days of my youth,
I was told what it was to be a man.
Now I've reached the age
I've tried to do all those things the best I can.
No matter how I try,
I find my way to do the same old jam.

Good times, bad times,
You know I had my share.
...

+listening to: good times bad times by led zeppelin

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scorned ashes, rising flames

today was the bittersweet ending to a fairytale, no... a tale of brilliance, of failures, of hopes and banes, of disappointments and heartwarming moments, and of dreams and beliefs.

it seems like just yesterday that i was thinking about the arduous journey of the months ahead. planning, doubting my own abilities and determination, being lost and confused. looking back, it did become a monumental struggle - to be disappointed time and time again, and trying to stay positive, trying to keep my faith, hoping and believing.

people have always told me not to get my hopes up, because i will get hurt deeply if things don't turn out well. i knew that all along, but no matter how hard i tried to detach myself from the reality, i couldn't. it means too much to me, this game, this team.

i have never devoted myself in such entirety before, and i don't think there will be many more instances where i'll be doing that again. but i'm really glad that i took the road less traveled. for once i've let go of all the voices inside of my head telling me what to do and just did what i felt was the right thing. i did what i wanted to do deep down, i did what i knew i had to do.

and i can't help but think about those times when i felt so down and hopeless about the state of things that i wanted to give up. i'm glad i didn't, i'm glad that i stuck it out. seeing these boys, no, gentlemen slug it out under the glaring afternoon sun even though i was screaming at them at the top of my lungs, everything just seemed to make sense to me now.

i still remember one of my earlier remarks when i chose to embark on this journey, that when i look over my shoulder come time for me to leave, i'd see them not as individuals but as one - honestly it was merely wishful thinking, but it did happen.

and i'm thankful for that, for those magnificently painful and unforgettably saccharine memories. i feel as though i've done something that i can be truly proud of; i feel as though i've planted the seeds of passion that may one day see itself at full bloom.

the strange thing is, i think they have taught me as much as i hope i've taught them. the lessons i had in humility were staggering. it made me look down in shame, and reflect about my values and perspectives on other people. i am used to being judgmental about everything, that's until i was truly humbled by some of their words and deeds.

and now more than ever, they made me realize just how much i love my school, my alma mater. looking at them doing the whoosh seem to turn back the clock to those moments right before the matches were about to start, wearing my school crest on my chest, squeezed tightly in a huddle. these are also the same people who made me realize that if i had a chance to do it all over again, and i get to play for whichever team i want, i'd still play for hwachong, over and over again.

was it worth all the trouble? no. it's worth infinite times more, it's worth every day, every hour, every minute and every second of it. i lived for those moments.

there're things in life that one would bound to forget, but for me, this chapter of my life would always linger back there somewhere in my mind. i can't even begin to think about asking for anything more.

so this is it... scorned ashes, rising flames...

don't look down

NEVER stop believing

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the day i lost it

i'm listening to "footsteps" by pearl jam over and over again. it soothes me when i'm moody.

the clock says 12.38am, june the 3rd.

i'm thinking about leaving singapore, leaving all the fond memories. leaving a good part of my life behind. i also can't help but hate this place, it damaged me irreversibly when i was a kid. that's when i changed. i swear something died inside of me. i learnt to take all kinds of shit from people, not fighting back, shutting myself in, silently ignoring all the derogatory xenophobic comments. it felt like the world was against me, at age 10.

i haven't felt like that for a long time. something happened today that just brought that sick feeling back. it's different though, nothing malicious, but somehow it achieved the same effect. it's like pricking open an old wound or getting that same old repulsive aftertaste in your mouth that you loathe with a passion.

today i lost it.

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a day of mourning, remember may 12

the shockwaves came,
no one knew.
excited, the kids screamed,
damned if they thought it was cool.
how could they have known,
of the creature beneath.
with malice it came,
but who do we blame.

only when the walls fell,
bricks, more bricks, they knew.
frantic, panic,
water in your eyes, hearing more acute.
the exit, where's the exit,
too late.
the walls, the walls,
where are they.

nothing, void, the abyss,
mommy, where are you.
is anyone out there,
somebody help please.
the smell of death,
premonition of doom.
kids, hang in there,
just a little while longer.

they're coming my dear.
they're coming.





if you'd like to make a donation to the victims of the earthquake:
please visit redcross.org.cn OR text 1 or 2 to (+86) 1069999301, text messages are 1 or 2 rmb respectively.


+listening to: hymn to the fallen by john williams

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walk the line

she said to me over the phone she wanted to see other people
i thought... well then look around, they're everywhere
she said that she was confused
i thought... darling, join the club

the fine lines we walk in our lives, between having and not having, living and dying, between caring and not caring, moral and immoral. seems like those lines are blurring, fast... nothing is so clear cut as before anymore.

honour, discipline, integrity, passion, and that desire to just go that extra inch no matter what it takes. where art thou?

i want to effect change. i want to make a difference. but thou cannot change by not changing. the one man crusade with me leading the calvary charge seems hopeless. so what? i have my honour, discipline, integrity, passion and that inner desire to fall back on. i think that when it comes to the crunch, many can go that extra mile. but i KNOW that when it comes to the crunch, i can go two.

i'm all tangled up, but i know i can't give up. i feel the weight i carry on my shoulders. i want the change, and i'll do what it takes. hoping, believing. it's all on me now, so bring it on...


+listening to: bonus track by pearl jam

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i've found my song

some people can listen to a song over and over and over again and just keep going without ever getting sick of it. they call it "their song". few songs have done the same for me. and i think i've found my song, the one song that i'll never get tired of listening to and pouring my heart and soul into.

i can't think of any word to describe it other than beautiful - the feeling of losing yourself in it, crying yourself to sleep with it playing knowing everything will be better tomorrow. it's when the music speaks for you, talks to you, and you can finally scream out to the whole world whatever that's troubling you in your head without ever moving your lips. the silence so earth-shattering, the epiphany so ephemeral, the sorrow so real, the relief so fleeting.

Don't even think about reachin' me
I won't be home
Don't even think about stoppin' by
Don't think of me at all
I did, what I had to do
If there was a reason, it was you...

Don't even think about gettin' inside
Voices in my head, voices
I got scratches, all over my arms
One for each day, since I fell apart
I did, what I had to do
If there was a reason, it was you...

Footsteps in the hall, it was you, you
Pictures on my chest, it was you
It was you...

I did, what I had to do
And if there was a reason
Oh, there wasn't no reason, no
And if, there's something you'd like to do
Just let me continue, to blame you

Footsteps in the hall, it was you, you
Pictures on my chest, it was you, you

why do i do the things i do? will anyone ever understand? if there was a reason, it was because i believe in you...


+listening to: footsteps by pearl jam

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McDouche

i'm a McDouche: i just had dinner at mac's and i need to be shot. this is after i vowed never to eat at mcdonald's again.


well maybe the fatigue clouded my judgement, plus the power of persuasion/peer pressure in the form of jupiter and zy. stupid me. but it was fun to catch up with them and all, plus the talk of a perspective bali trip soon! can't wait.

anyways i quite enjoyed today's little run around a bit. especially when i get to be on the attacking side all the time, and with zy and jupe running with me, it was like the old times again. it's been a long time since i had a little run around with the ball. gave some speculative wild passes though, felt kinda rusty. but one decisive super wide pass led to a try, it was ultra sweet, couldn't have done the pass any better: perfect weight, perfect height, burnt 2 drifting defenders at once. i ought to pat myself on the back. even jay was jealous. but then that's kinda normal.

also had a few stabs at some little grubbers here and there, a rather screwed up impromptu call i came up with - "popiah". didn't really work so well. and my tactical kicking's gone down the drain. it was kinda all over the place with no sting. argh... but then again i don't play regularly anymore. jupe then stunned me with his brilliant little chip (just over the head) and chase, it popped up perfectly for him. looked set to be a try but too bad he got taken out right before the try line. had a few little searching runs myself, ran past a few and almost beat the fullback. damn guess i gotta go sharpen my "benji marshall" step again. it's been a while, heh.

i'm reminded of what it feels like to be alive once again. feeling kinda happy. yeah.


+listening to: chevrolet by the derek trucks band

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a sad day...

dad just called. grandpa passed away.

he told me to call grandpa over the weekend because his bronchitis acted up again and this time it was serious enough that he had to be hospitalised.

i didn't call. i didn't forget. i was too lazy to pick up the damn phone.

it's just all the world's guilt and me now.

i don't wanna be seen as the prodigal son, the unfilial grandson. i didn't even get to say goodbye.


fuck.

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confessions of a troubled mind: i like men with odd shaped balls...

i have to admit: the sight of men with odd shaped balls turns me on. and NO i'm not gay, neither do i get turned on in the sexual way you perverts.

i have never addressed this issue formally, but i think it's about time i do so. i am not exactly sure when my fascination with the sport started. i do have faint memories of playing it with a bunch of friends on rainy days on the ntu soccer pitch. because when it raind it usually meant we can't play football. so we naturally turned towards the natural alternative - barefooted one that is, with an oval shaped ball, where boys can fool around and roll in the mud and go home to a shelling by their respective moms.

and i also have fond memories of watching the 2003 world cup at asif's house. it was the first time for me watching it on tv. all i remember is bodies piling on top of each other and men running at one another in barbaric manners and trying to wrestle each other to their deaths (i thought). it looked infinitely more genuine than anything WWE or TNA has to offer, and they looked a lot more ferocious in their pure black jerseys. and that was also the first time that i heard the term "The All Blacks" and witnessed the Haka. Asif, being a kiwi, was immensely proud of the all blacks of course, and so we inevitably all became all blacks fans, albeit involuntarily. i'm not even sure if i knew of any other teams that existed at the time, probably only the wallabies, or england.

i think it was that moment. the score was 17 - 17 in extra time. everyone looked fatigued and lifeless. the match seemed to be going nowhere. we were all sitting on the couch at asif's house, on a sunny sunday afternoon, when we should be outside playing football. i watched as the ball was being passed out from another "pile" of people, into the hands of this blond guy. i've heard asif tell me this guy is the equivalent of david beckham in rugby. i thought he certainly had the looks. then the moment happened. he took it onto his right foot (i later learnt he was left footed) and executed the perfect drop kick. for a second the time stopped. the ball hit the ground, and set off a gargantuan wave of camera flashes in the stadium, then he took a swing and the ball traveled between the uprights in slow motion.

i wanted to be like johnny wilkinson. i wanted to BE johnny wilkonson. flyhalf, such an exotic word to me. when the first time i played the game in school, the coach told me to play stand-off. i remember feeling a little disappointed, because i wanted to play flyhalf. and only a little later i realised how foolish and unfamiliar i was with the jargons of the game. first five-eighth, stand-off, flyhalf: they are the exact same thing, differentiated only by name depending on your geographical location: my dream came true.

then i saw the videos of the 2nd test match on the lions tour of new zealand. a particular player caught my eye. he was 5 ft. 11, about my height, but weighs a whopping 91 kilos from the on screen stats. even though he was a sub, the moment he came on it became electrifying. he scored 33 points in that match - 2 tries, 5 penalties and 4 conversions - more than anyone has ever done against the lions in one match.

forget wilkinson. his name is dan carter. he eventually became the resident no.10 shirt in the all black jersey. he's the ultimate player, a player's player. i think it's these kind of players that kept my passion burning along with the spirit of the game. i love the brutality, i relish the discipline, i honour the brotherhood and i live for the team. and to think that all these boils down to an odd shaped rubber ball, all for that extra inch, that elusive line, that one shining moment.

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a micro photo-journey

after rugby (coaching) i waited around to pass some stuff to a friend. and right then and there i decided i couldn't possibly go to the dinner gathering and face all those inevitable, harsh stares. so i boarded the first bus that headed away from school (now my alma mater) and alighted at city hall. i had no idea where i was going, and i didn't care. it was fine with me.

after some strolling around, half heartedly looking to pick out a birthday present for a friend, i gave up. so i decided to just walk. it is actually a very soothing experience. makes you forget all your worries. and i ended up here:

i realised that i've never actually been to the city hall building during the day. it looks pretty amazing

here's another one, the sky looked pretty sweet, considering it's taken with a cam phone

the skyline

when i saw the banner i was thrilled, but upon checking my calender i realised it was today, and looking at the empty pitch in front of me, i guess it's over

oh well, an empty pitch for consolation

then i ended up at the esplanade. from this side of the river the skyline looks pretty good too

and for the second day in a row, i showed up at the mosaic music festival, i dunno, it just attracted me in a strange sort of way so i had to go back. and today's act was really sweet, an acoustic set with a female singer. didn't catch her name, but her song "desperate", and "clutch" got me hooked. it was very appropriate for the frame of mind at that instant, i felt moved

after that i continued walking to marina square, where i did a little snooping around and shopping and bought the present

and here i was walking along city hall

lady with the balloons: it just stuck out in the middle of all the dullness

view of peninsula from the bus stop

5 mins... still no bus

10 mins... still no bus

15 mins... still no sign of a single bloody bus

damn it's not my bus

finally on the bus home...

maybe this subconscious need for a little soul searching journey has a deeper underlying meaning? i wouldn't know. i'm spent, and ambivalent towards what the future may hold. why do people keep telling me i know myself best? the absolute honest truth is i don't. i don't know myself at all. i don't know what i'm capable of. i don't know the limits of my potential. i've always thought i was different, all i want to be is different. but once in a while i feel lonely being and trying to be different, so i try my hardest to fit in, only to find that i can't. is it such a sin to fail to conform? i don't know. i feel like it's just me up against the whole world. would something nice please come my way in the near future; i don't know how long this self motivation bullshit could go on. i need something good to happen to keep my sanity, because it seems that nothing i do turns out the way i want. i'm waiting on the world to change...

peace.

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...

my worst fears were realised all at once today.

i'm not afraid anymore.

i'm sorry ____ , ____ & ____ and anyone else who believed in me,

i fucked up.

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Keep the good news coming

Today's session with the boys was especially grueling. maybe it was the sun, and the weather, or maybe it's just the nature of the drills themselves. just imagine the crisp sound of wind chimes in a cool, refreshing afternoon breeze that never seems to end, except the chimes are replaced by the sound bodies hitting bodies and bodies hitting the floor.

i can see the exhaustion in everyone's eyes, yet no one complained. I'm truly thankful for that. and while i had the good fortune of a proper pitch all to myself at the High School side, i tried to see if my drop kicks have gone down the drain. surprisingly it was better than i expected. i even landed one that i would say is pretty difficult even for seasoned kickers. All in all i'm pretty satisfied with today's session.

and as i dragged my tired, beat body home i was greeted by a suspicious looking envelope:


so as usual i sheepishly opened it expecting a letter informing me of missing transcripts/documents, etc. and then i read this:

"Congratulations on your admission to the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign for the Fall 2008 semester!"

A corner of the UIUC campus

Woohoo! I got accepted at UIUC! After all I was pretty unsure whether i'd get the offer from one of my top prospective schools! I mean this IS the no.5 engineering sch the whole of US after stanford, mit, berkley and umich. This really came at such an incredible time. it has really given me some peace of mind at this crossroad of uncertainties, after that Cornell ordeal in December and with the A-level results coming out and everything else that's going on in my life. I guess all i needed was someone to say "I believe in YOU!"

I know it's wishful thinking but I do hope the other offers will start coming in soon, I really need a boost for my self esteem. I rarely admit it but I hardly ever believe in myself. And those little assurances do help a lot, because deep down inside I think I'm still that introverted little boy who wanted to be like everyone else but himself...

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Peaceful

I've done it. I've finally dropped the bomb on the boys yesterday. It comes as such a huge relief because i've been sitting on it for way too long. It's like lifting the shadows off a nightmare. Once the stone you're crawling under is lifted off your shoulders, once the cloud that's raining over your head disappears, the noise that you'll hear is the crashing down of hollow years...


There are surely gonna be creases to be smoothed out, pointers that need to be repeated but at least everything seems to be finally coming together. Everything went relatively well, the boys seemed to be reflecting on what i have said and even showed some pretty good team spirit. the tackles are improving, everyone's got some mud and bits of scratches and cuts and bruises everywhere but that's what it's all about, it's about just being on the pitch and doing what we do best. For the first time in many month i've been reminded of that smell of freshly turned up turf and soil mixed with the slightest tinge of blood. that scent still gets my heart pumping, it still gives me that fix of adrenaline that i've almost forgotten about.

And the expression on the onlookers faces; that wince at the sound from the sheer tenacity of the hit; that wince at the sight of the sheer determination and frequency of the spear, the drive, the lift and finally the dump, are priceless. i might have taken a knock on the bum knee again but it was all worth it. the defence is still all over the place, the relative easy with which i run past the gain line worries me. But i'm certain it will improve in the days to come.

Had a little chat afterwards with a couple of the new guys just talking about the understanding of the game. There's still a long way to go, and i'm thinking of a crash course/boot camp during the march break, and possibly added sessions on saturdays for the new guys just to focus on individual ball handling skills. It will be tough on everybody, including me. but i think it's a good exercise of my mental toughness. afterall i chose to do it, i wanted to do it and i'm definitely gonna stick it out to the end no matter what the outcome.

Finally the feeling of peace and relief is nothing short of bliss. They said ignorance is bliss, I say finally doing the things that you know has to be done is the new bliss.

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