Durians

My mom bought durian. We sat there for a silent couple of minutes. Deliciously Munching on the fleshy yellow fruit.

She says to me:"I bought it for 5 dollars." and points at the written price on the polysterene cover that screams, in loud blue marker ink- VERY GOOD DURIAN $$12.

"thats a really good buy." I comment. "the durians taste pretty good too."
"Yea." She says."I wouldn't buy it for 12 dollars. I'd be pretty angry if it was lousy."
I give a slight chuckle. If my mom was ever irritated, she had this amazing way of making the whole world irritated as well.


"..and they taste better if you're eating them with someone. So i waited for you to come home."


My mom and I are probably the only ones in the house who eat durian. Needless to sayI probably inherited her genes. OR she probably had a craving for durians when she was pregnant with me. Either way, the rest of the house detests them. But she's mom, so they can't say a thing. =)

But what struck me was. The gentle reminder that somethings are better off shared.
Be it the burdens in life, the pain, the sorrow and happiness.
Even food like durian.

Nothing much to say

The mission blog is up. =)
No tag board though. I'll probably add it in later.

To the swimming pool then to school. Wait. I should swim in school.
yes. Now why didn't i think of that.

I wonder if its open.

Tag you're it.

"You have been tagged." Was the curiously poisonous statement that sprawled across my screen.

"I have been what?... Tagged?" I feel perculiarly like an unhappy soft toy on sale who's got his ear pierced with a those funky plastic rings attached with the latest bar codes.

"You have been tagged!!" She replies quickly with a hint of irritation. "Go to my blog and you'll see what I mean."

I go to Ann's blog. And #$%&!!! I realize instantly what has just happened.
Great. Now I try my hardest to be optimistic.

Instructions:
Name 20 people you can think of at the top of your head. Don't read the questions before you write, and tag 5 people to do the survey.

(Really.I surprise myself with my obedience sometimes. )

1.Ann =.=''
2.Doreen
3.Andrea
4.Dan Chia
5. Ivan
6.Yang Qian
7. Mom
8.Enting
9.Jolene
10.Dan Ng
11.Ying Chiang
12.LiLing
13.Paul
14.Joshua
15.Caroline
16.Faith
17.Andrew Tang
18.Nicholas
19.YiYu
20.XueXin

(thinks: that was hard. thankfully its over.)

Questions:
1. How did you meet number 14?
Oh. He was my mission trip group mate.

2.What would you do if you had never met Number 1?
I WOULDN'T BE IN THIS PREDICAMENT!!!! Okay. nvm. I... er... Wouldn't have gotten to know about teddy Geiger and saving Jane and... All those fantastic artists so soon.

3.What would you do if 20 and 9 dated you?
(WHAT?!? Who is 20 and 9....?Crap. ahahah.. ANNnnnn...)
I think. I would be gay and happy. =/

4. Would 6 and 17 make a good couple?
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. *dies* er..... ERRRR...errrr....

5.Describe no.3
Oh. Her. haha. She's the nitty-picky-reflective-tour-guide-shoe-wearing-excitable... NAH... kidding. =)
She's the girl with the laughing eyes and goes: "oh mummy!" when she slips and falls.

6.Do you think No.8 is attractive?
YES. VERY. Absolutely indefinitely undeniably pretty. (how's that for politically correct. =))
I'm going on mission trip with her. Do you honestly want me slaughtered? =/

7.Tell me something about No.7
Mommy! hahaa. She... She. Loves her discus more than me. =(

8.Do you know anything about no.12's family?
uh oh. nope. =P I shall have to find out.

9.What is no.8's favorite?
favorite what? Enting!!! wat's your favorite!?! *screams across a few HDB blocks*
I am assuming its God. haha. Yes. "A star" grade of an answer.

10.What would you do if 11 confesses that he/she likes you?
HAHa. I'd jump for joy. Seriously. After jumping, I'd confess that I probably like her too.

11. What language does 15 speak?
Caroline!? AHAHA. lemme think. This is a tough one. Not exactly sure, Sometimes it sounds like Italian, sometimes, Swahili with a bit of French.

12.Who is 9 going out with?
LOL. Jolene, you had better confess right NOW. ahhaa.

13.How old is 16 now?
22. =) eh no. eh... 21? Yah. 21. Birthday not yet over.

14.When was the las time u talked to 13?
Whoa. A couple of weeks ago. He's in Canada.

15.Who's 2's favorite singer?
Oh no. ahahah. Sam should know. I should go ask him. If he doesn't know. er. Good luck to him. hahaa

16.Would you date number 4?
(I'm desperately praying 4 is a girl as i scroll up.)
DANIEL CHIA.... Need I say more.....

17.Would you date 7?
yah. Shopping date. ahahah. The best. =)

18.is 15 single?
er. Yes. I think.

19.What's 10's last name?
Ng.=/ Next.

20.Would you ever consider being in a relationship with 11?
(I question my obedience to this survey again...)
Yes. I would.

21.What school does 3 go to?
NTU lah.

22.Where does 6 live?
Whoa. I don't know.

23.What's your favorite thing about number 5?
Haha. He's musically talented. Goodness lah..

Now to tag people. Again. Buggers. ahaha.... 5 is it? Sigh.
Andrea. Doreen. Dan Chia(my gay friend). YingChiang. Jolene the pangsai kia. hahaah
goodness.
It's over. Now to bombard Ann. >=(

A melody of raw emotions.

I looked upon aimless clouds of people. Listening to the secular music that blasted overhead in Suntec City Mall. And it suddenly dawned upon me that I didn't want to go home.

The warm night air greeted me with a certain hostility, the bustling crowds with no solace. Yet despite these, I still wanted very much to linger outside. For a little longer. For a while more.

What was home to me, that I didn't want to be part of it? Was it a place of comfort in times of need? Or a place, constantly plagued with problems to solve? Was I trying to hide from these? or trying to run? Or was I desperately fumbling for peace? So many questions. So little answers.

The hearty laughter of Ah bengs in the street that rang out seemed so empty to me. A couple huddled in a corner of the dim lit street. A tinge of jealousy swiped me over, and something at the back of my head took over like a cold reprimanding discipline mistress.

I drew a long breath to heave a deep sigh then stuffed the remaining kaya toast in my mouth. My dry lips met the crusty bread with anticipation. My stomach growled for more.But no more food. None. At least till I am done thinking.

I knew somehow that I shouldn't be feeling this way. Not like I could really help it. Alright. Got s enough self pity for one day. shall look froward to tommorrow if it comes and will hopefully, it be better. YC's birthday, booking of driving test. Collecting my guitar. Till then.

Perhaps I'm writing so I don't have to feel it. A voice that speaks the language of my heart. A way in which my inner being can express himself. A way to accept. To see emotion in the eyes and embrace her.

My dad isn't feeling well. He's run off to Mac's again. Its not like him at all and honestly, I'm terribly worried. I know I should reach out to him. To tell him I love and care. But I'm afraid. Afraid that I won't be able to take the weight of the emotional baggage. Afraid that I would break down if he poured out his worries.

I realise I've grown to fear as well. To fear telling others I care. To become selfishly protecting myslef. Drawing a safe distance between those i love. Building high emotional walls. Keeping myself locked in an emotional cell. Because rejection is so painful. Sometimes a part of me wants to reach out to embrace the open wounds, to wrap them up to heal them. Yet something inside screams that it will hurt. That It will hurt long and terribly.

Like searching for warmth and comfort on a cold hard marble floor, Like getting your hand scalded with boiling water.

Then i look at myself. and I see all the mess. The wreckage of emotional war. I realize that I'm still very much afraid to come home. And very much afraid to love. Because something inside me still screams in pain. Which isn't right as well. Love isn't supposed to hurt.

Or is it? I wish I knew.

Idiotic Idioms.

I realize I'm terrified of anonymous taggers on my tag board. I'm pondering if the smiley who posted a smiley is a person I know. Hello there.(yes you.) Keep smiling. Please leave your blog address next time. =] simply because I can't make heads or tails of a face.

My baby crayfish have died. I'm devastated beyond recognition. I was hoping to nuture them to teenage hood and find them good homes. (or as some of you pet-eating-people would say, good stomachs.) Oh well come to think of it, shan't be too sad. Its my fault for expecting. As the saying goes: Don't count your crayfish before they hatch.

My mom asked for a massage on her leg. And as I pulled and rubbed the swollen area near the ankle, I commented about the swelling's uncanny resemblence to a baobab tree. She went :"Really?!". To which I replied, "Nah. I was just pulling your leg."

I remembered I sprained my fingers once. Was so badly sprained I couldn't move them at all. (I swore off basket ball ever since.) The doctor had bandaged it to another finger to prevent it from moving. Anxious to play sports again, I asked the doctor:" How long will it take to heal?" He said with a straight face:" If it heals fast... About 2 weeks? Keep your fingers crossed."


"you know those terrorists? The ones that knocked down the twin towers?"
"erm,... Yea. What about them?"
"Well they should have gone straight to the white house and knocked it flat out."
"oook.... Why?"
"Well. It would be a lot easier if they went straight to the point and stopped beating around the bush."
"ahhh. I see. Hmmm..."

My friend dropped her phone onto muddy grass patch. She ran over to the rolling phone and picked it up.
"looks pretty clean to me." She comments. "Surprising indeed."
"Nah.." I reply. "Haven't u heard?... A rolling phone gathers no moss."

Questions

When sitting in utter doubt
Thinking about what to do.
I ask God, and turn to you.
You tell me you don't know too.

So many things I do not understand.
So many things i wish i knew.
Sometimes. Somehow.
Till with this life I'm through.

Blue's the shade of the sky
Tingling is the color of the rainy wind
Like green carpets of grass.
And warthmess is the smile within.

What should I think Daddy,
Tell me what should I do.
I'ms still getting the butterflies,
Even though I'm here, with you.

hmm.

Terribly tired.
Terribly drained.

Think I've fallen into a weird pit of stereotyping and can't get out. Oh well. AC boys will be AC boys. I hope things will turn out for the better. Talk to me soon please.

That was awfully random.

Sai Ling was fun today. Spent the Entire day with her. So glad. Makes me so utterly depressingly happy, just playing Ass-hole tai tee till 4 am before the Event.

This will be a busy week indeed. Shall be gone for camp again from Thursday till Saturday. Hope it will be swell. I'm swimming in procrastination and laziness has gotten the best of me. I shall... sleep.

Am already burnt a nice shade of brown from a long day out at sea. Hopefully, I won't be fairly negro from the camp when i go to church on Sunday. I pray not.

Caroline's Balloon is deflating steadfastly in my room. It's starting to look worryingly like a shiny floating prune. Still fighting the tiny urges to suck the helium and do an impersonations of the elections.

MI:3 was fantastic. There's so much action i couldn't take it. There's more action in MI:3 than there is wheat in coco-pops. okay... rather off topic.

Hmmm. ah yes.

warm-fuzzy-feeling-smile.

Work

Okay. Enough is enough. It has suddenly dawned upon me that my lazing around has come to no good and I am in grave danger of self-inflicted extinction.

No more adsfklasghkdjhgej-ing attitude. No more giving in the to Lazy Man Action Party. No more usless to-do lists. yes. Reform!!! Merdeka!! My brain screams.

A DO-IT-NOW list.
1. Do a nice background for Caroline.
2. Pack tommorrow and the next day's sailing bag.
3. Do something about the injections tommorrow for fear it might clash with meeting my beloved Sai Ling

Good three. Three is my favourite number. An easy number to comple..t..
Crap. oh bummer. need to call Andrea about the FOC things. (Brain has started to run amok like a Spider with Parkinsons.)

4. Call Andrea to confirm FOC meeting date.

Okay. Enough. Or I'll never get anything done.
Vote for the Workaholics Party. Yes. Indeed i shall.

Tired.

Was talking to Andrea and she told me that her eye-candy looked like the type too stream into mechanical engineering. So since I was planning to stream into that particular field, I could along the way make friends with him and intro her to him and you know the rest.
(are u still reading?)

I'm slightly offended. Ha. Pesposterous indeed. Like pompous little promfrets from Pompeii. I feel like a majestic pawn in someone's conquest for love. But being the fantabulous (fantastically fabulous) friend that Andrea is, and being the stupendously nice guy that I am, I have decided to help her for a small fee of a pint of Ben & Jerrys.

Yes.
Jon Lame's Matchmaking agency.
True love is only an ice-cream away.

But why am I slightly offended? Because I have sworn off eye-candies. Yes. I shall tell you the story.
It happened one fateful day when we were studying at national library. Then appeared this beautiful girl. One with flowy hair and brown eyes and a grace so dramatic it would blow you off your feet. (okay.. Never mind. Imagine the pretty girl of your dreams.)

It was love at first sight. At least until her hip-hip-pretty-face-of-a-stupid-dancer-boyfriend appeared and gave her a peck on the cheek. The moment he put her arms round her waist felt exactly like the moment you turn your head to see a pair of bright headlights to the time u close your eyes waiting for impact.

Needless to say, I swore off eye-candies.

Anyhow just washed my tank. Its getting so late I'm actually early.(like that made any sense.)
I sat there scrubbing the thing for a whole 10 minutes and when I finally got up, the pins and needles had gathered on my leg as if for an important voodoo convention and I almost fell over like a bowling pin.

"wah lau." I muttered under my breath.
Simultaneously, my brain went: "heng sia, never fall down."

thank God for friction.

Fish tank.

Just went all the way to Bras Pasar to collect my 2 Ft tank. Man. What a journey.

I rung the doorbell and a rather tall and slightly muscular man opened the door. The guy was so amazingly tall, that if he had any head lice, they would have needed oxygen masks.
He smiled a big-friendly-giant smile and said:" you must be here for the tank." The smile put me at ease and I returned a smile and took a step forward to peeked into his house.

(Note:Any one who has a house in the middle of the city is ridiculously rich. Even if he owns a 3 room flat and hardly any furniture. It'll be still worth your while to at least take a peek of the house.)

So I took a step, accidentally kicked a concrete tile, momentarily lost my balance and I caught a glimpse of the interior. Promptly realizing three very important things:

Point 1: That fellow had a enormous tank in the middle of the living room. It was so big it could have housed a happy baby hippo.
Point 2: The man wasn't so tall after all. His floor was two steps higher than where I was standing. I realized cuz I missed the step and kicked it.
Point 3: My toe hurt.

I stood at the entrance of his house gaping at his tank like a silly dead fish. "Oh shit. That's a big tank". Those were the first words out of my mouth. I must have sounded like a yeti from Tibet, who had never seen an escalator before. He grinned a modest smile :"Aiyah. Nothing much lah. haha. Here's the tank." He pointed at the thing on the floor.

I was still staring at the tank when I noticed something move in the background. Then it moved in front of the huge tank. It was a woman. She had a angry/irritated look on her face. Possibly angry at the fact that someone had ignored her over a fish tank or possibly because she was having an important conversation and I had barged in on them.

Minutes later I was out on the road trying to drag the cumbersome fish tank to the MRT. Mind you, that thing weighs close to a ton. I could feel my muscles turning into really old rubber bands and my bones into over boiled spaghetti. I did a very tricky balancing act to get through the gantry at the MRT which surprised a lot of onlookers. (I should have charged them for the performance. ) By the time I put down the tank onto the platform floor My hands were trembling like washing machines on full spin.

Then I noticed everyone staring at me. I checked to ensure I had zipped up, before starting to feel very small and out of place, like a frog in a tank of piranhas. I hid myself at the end of the train like a crab in the sand and tried to make myself inconspicuous.

The bus ride produced the exact same frog-in-a-piranha-tank feeling and I was never more glad to reach home. By that time, my hands were trembling so hard I could have played the piano without bothering.

Then I realized a most ridiculous thing. I did nothing on my to-do-list. This is annoying. Its like making new year resolutions that you don't keep. The only one I did was the one which had "important" next to it. I shall either have to swear off making to-do lists or to put an "Important!" next to all of them.

ho hum.

Argh.

My mom has commanded me to clean up my room. She thinks its such an obnoxious pigsty that even flies would find it detestable to live in. Which happens to work for me. I don't like flies.

Anyhow, I tried to procrastinate(as always.) and she went" The cleaner your room, the more money I'll give you for your mission trip." yuck. I don't know what to think. Possibly bribery? Or blackmail? I can't tell the difference.

Anyhow, I realize after trying to clean, that I have too many soft toys. This is frustrating. I need to find somewhere to put all of them.( AND NO soft toys for Christmas or birthdays or what nots. I don't want anymore. You can give me something disgustingly useful. Just no soft toys.)

Hhmm. The menial task is killing me. I shall run from the pigsty.

Jolene has to clean her shelf. I retorted that her's was a negligible task considering the scale of the cleaning. Not to be outdone, She complained that her room was actually composed of a shelf and no tables. She lives in a shelf. I'm amazed. This is her theory:

She says that we all live in Shelves. (HDB- Highly Developed Bookshelves.) And that the walls between each unit are actually book ends. That pillows Television sets carpets, etc are all stationary like paper and erasers. I'm thoroughly blown away by this bizarre idea. That girl is a genius.

Sometimes.Somehow.

Sometimes i know you're upset.
And you hide the feelings from me.
But I can still feel it bright and crisp
like a pin prick on the feet.

I just wish you'd tell me
whatever had gone wrong.
I promise I won't get angry
Just don't want your indifference to last so long.

The randomness of Some things

When I found out I was
no longer in your life,
My world came crashing down.
And i wonder to myself.

Oh why did i fall in love with the girl
With the bright brown eyes and the pony tail.
With the broken smile and the lashes
that curled like the beauty of dawn.

I saw you the other day with your arms
around his neck and a smile on your face.
Radiant with the glow of happiness
Brighter than the stars that guide the sailors.
I knew i had to let it all go.

Oh why did i fall in love with that girl.
With the bright brown eyes and the pony tail.
With a touch so gentle, the world would stall
And a heart more wondeful than fall.
Oh why.
oh why.
Did i fall in love with her at all.