Friday, March 31, 2006
It's all in the bag
4 days since my birthday passed, nothing spectacular happened as usual. Maybe it did, in another way. No crazy clubbing, no cool parties, no countless presents. Welcome to my life.I came to terms with the fact that I'm not exactly the main source of joy in your life, though subconsciously I always knew that. It pains me more to know that that source comes from a mother-fucker I scorn so much. Don't try to comfort me, because you know that's only deceiving yourself. Denial ain't the only river in Egpyt.
All my bloody girlfriends just had to be somebody. Model, Singer, Dancer. Seriously what the fuck is going on?!?!?!?! I'm just a NORMAL guy, not like all of you extraordinary people. SO PLEASE, FUCKING GIVE ME A BREAK. All that hurt, all that pain, all that tears. What for? Just so that you people can continue doing what you guys love doing most, without any constructive consideration for the boring ol' Ivan. I've gave up so many, and never looked back a single bit. Sometimes, you don't even know what I've lost along the way, but I don't see them like losing posessions, but rather, as sacrifices I never looked back. SO WHAT if you sacrifice something or claim to do so? What's the point of doing so when you're going to return to square one. What's the point of it when at the end of the day, you're just gonna make me feel like it's all in the bag, that I simply cannot help it but accept things.
I try hard to embrace my life, indulge in all the sadness (mainly), joy (limited), neutrality, in hope of coming out stronger. I've trascended this once, but yet it still hurts so fucking damn much. I just feel like taking a knife and stabbing my chest till I bleed, and die. And really, being conscious is just one of the most terrible thing to happen to Mankind. I have to put on a facade, and force my chief concerns into the back of my fucking head, just so I can lead my life normally. Screw this status quo, I feel so terrible now I wished I could intoxicate and drown myself, and feeling even more terrible than I already am. Then I'll puke the shit out of everything in me, and feel great, fantastic.
FUCKING BULLSHIT.
posted@5:18 AM
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Wishlist - The Obsessions
I've got many obsessions, apart from my greatest one (Sonia) of course.So thou has decided to list them all out, in a bid to fatasize and have a wet dream in consciousness =D
1) Photography
I've been caught and hooked in this whole realm of photography. I really am obsessed with it now. Tired of just ooohh-ing and waaaah-ing in front of my computer when I see good photography, I've decided to exit this fucking cesspool and get a camera of my own! Woot! And my first one shall be a Lomo + Fisheye lens wahahahahhahaha!!! I was told I could find them in Bras Basah at decent prices, and I shall do just that after a few more tutoring sessions with my cousin (I make $30 in 2 hrs for coaching him). Easy cash.
2) Write well
Entering CJC Arts just made me realise how inferior I am in terms of my command of language. Honestly, I'm far far behind many people in the cohort. Maybe in consolation, I'm the slightly above average. With constant Cs for my General Paper, other than the occasional Bs, I've resigned to the fact that I really do suck in my language, despite being a History and Literature student. It's really sad, I know. I feel that way myself as well. Which is why I want to do something about it. And I shall read like a mad fuck after my As. Particularly Philosophy (Theology), as expected.
3) Get a fucking band for good
For Pete's sake Ivan, when the fuck are you going to get going on this? I don't know really, but trust me, as much as you trust my MSN nickname - The neverending desire to perform. I don't care if you say I crave for attention or whateverthefuck, I just want to be in a band, and be good enough to deliver mind-blowing gigs around Singapore. Satisfying enough. Or maybe come up with our own EP as well hehe.
So there you go, here are my listed obsessions at the moment.
Remember remember, the beauty of desire.
But sugar, you're still the #1.
posted@9:13 PM
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The Perfect Torture Tool
It's only perfect because I think so. Because I wrote so. Because it is possibly so.I've been wondering for weeks, what would actually happen if one day, I discover myself living in a make-up world of my own. That the days I've been living all these while were merely "days", or hallucinations. That someone greater than a physical being is in control of my thoughts, emotions, actions, and my perceived "reality". Or on a more exaggerated scale, that I've been captured by some evil scientist who's using me as a protocol for his psychological experiments.
How would you feel if it really happened to you? That at the click of a button, or the snap of the finger, the person in control can just send your world crashing down. In a matter of seconds mind you. So what's the key point here? Imagine the utility of such an invention as a torture tool. How much fear it can instill in the victim, how crazy the victim can become.
This just links to the notion that most of the times, crazy people, or maybe say people who aren't psychologically sane, seriously, I mean seriously, have an issue with seeing a shrink. I mean to me, its no big deal. But to them, it seems like it's more than just a deal. Like seeing a shrink would mean the demise of their very existence. But again if you're crazy, in embroiled in this whole psychological torture and you won't really give more than half a damn to your existence. So then again, what's the key point here then? Well basically, my personal conclusion lies in 'Knowledge'. Knowledge that you're crazy. That's what scares then most. That's what scares me most too. And linking back to the previous discussion of the perfect torture tool, the key point is Knowledge of the fact that you're not in control. That somebody else is in control. That all these while, you've been living in vain. All days you've passed, all the things you've done, all the chicks you've shagged, all the girlfriends you've dumped. All are but illusionary.
Hey, maybe that's reality, you know. I mean for all you know, the big one up there is playing puppeteer when we're asleep, when we're most vulnerable, when we're not in control...
posted@10:29 PM
Thursday, March 16, 2006
I've been careless.
Tonight I saw my girl in her most vulnerable, miserable, fragile state. It brought me to my complete senses, for I know that all these while I've been a little careless with a soft girl. One who has always never failed to cheer up my day, yet always failing to cheer up her own. In saying this, I'm not trying to scare you away or make you retreat into your own shell. Rather, my every word here is my every soul, written with empathy and love for you. For I am affirmed, more than ever, to be even more careful with you, to be always there for you, to never ever hurt you. Not even a single bit.Because all you ever wanted, was a little more love. If all shall fall, I must be the last one standing among the rubble of your life, awaiting you with open arms, with open heart, with open love for you.
Cause sugar, I really love you so so much.
And for all my past mistakes and future ones to come, please forgive me.
posted@11:54 PM
Pissed
***Kindly click on the images for an enlarged, clearer, visible size. Thank You.
Well, I'm getting fucking annoyed with the CIA. Was reading up on the Khmer Rouge and came across some factual bullshit. I hope USA gets this point drilled into their head - Every empire has a rise and a fall. And yours is coming soon.
But anyhow, this provided much comic relief. Straight, direct from Wikipedia (my favourite website).
posted@11:21 AM
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Living On A Prayer
Significant differences arise between choices - Before and After.If choices were strategically made before a forthcoming incident, choices made after would be much easier. Vice versa. But what's the big deal about it then? Because choices made before are usually easier to execute. Yet, so many people fail to do so. And there can only be a limited number of reasons to this strange, ironic situation:
1)You just can't be bothered.
2)You seem to enjoy/don't mind what's forthcoming.
3)You're really oblivious.
Of which I think the third is especially inconceivable, since there is always someone there constantly reminding you of what's forthcoming.
Even more significant differences arise between acknowledging, and thinking you have acknowledged a fact. Because thinking you have acknowledged a fact only proves to show that you're taking somebody for granted. That the person's existence makes not much of a difference to you, nor your life, nor your decisions. That the person is just blabbering nonsense, especially when he, in actual fact, isn't.
But then again, things happen for a reason, and the reason is me. If there wasn't me, there wouldn't even be somebody to be taken granted off to begin with. If I was only slightly more serious about advocating my thoughts. Then maybe, people might take me slightly more seriously, and I would feel alot less taken granted of. Cause : Effect.
But that's only a maybe. Because at the end of the day, it's ultimately up to YOU. Not fate, not your stupid prayers. Like God's gonna help you.
posted@11:41 PM
Transcendence
Photo courtesy of tangerinecoach
"They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream."
-Dowson
posted@7:13 AM
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
A Walk To Remember
After my run the day before yesterday, I walked down the park towards home. It was pretty beautiful at first sight, seeing how the foliage and nature has contributed to this word called Beauty. Being a fervent believer in fresh air, I naturally enjoyed myself, despite being pretty light-headed after the dreadful run. Dreadful, but necessary.After brief seconds into enjoying my walk back, I was struck by a somewhat rude shock. Something seemed to hit me like right inside my chest, and from that minute onwards, everything I saw seemed to be different. Different, but real.
It was frightening how I began to see everything around me as dead objects, especially the leaves on the floor and trees that loomed around me. I saw them as dead objects, and the ominous feeling was overwhelming I felt like running away at that moment, but curiousity got the better of me. I walked on, deep in thought, and felt the deathness creep into me. I couldn't say no, because I was already damned tired, and I just submitted to it without a fight. Fear, but truth.
I knew it was just but the hypersensitive side of me, but the moment was truly memorable I would say. I was wondering to myself how this was actually no different from a war scene, filled with death bodies, crying people. To me, the leaves were no more than dead leaves, and trees were drying up and crinkling to a point they seemed to be hanging down, asking me for help. Loom, but reality.
posted@10:58 AM
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Conjuring up a pool of emotions
As I grew older, I realised my inability to remain adaptable with this life. Welcome to the modernist world, where people alike are skeptical, cynical, selfish, pessimistic. What's more? I hate the world more and more as each passing day delivers cruel knowledge of this reality.I remember vividly how I was talking to my cousins while tutoring them yesterday, that the world is not a beautiful place, not the one that all those hippies make out to be. I got pretty carried away, highlighting to 14-year old kids about uncool nature of this event called WAR, along with the rotteness and misery it brings about. Since young, I was fascinated with WAR. My bookshelves were filled with Encyclopedias about WAR, and DO YOU KNOW? books about WAR. I was especially intrigued by WAR WORLD TWO, specifically the Japanese Occupation. I immersed myself in them, partly because of the curiosity, but mainly because of the kind of pictures I get while reading those books. Pictures in black and white, pictures of women crying, pictures of Kempetais beheading bypassers seem to appeal to me, in an awkward way. I was afraid, but I kept reading on and on. To the point I thought I was saddistic. It still is frightening now, how my childhood memories reappear both in my consciousness and my unconsciousness a.k.a sleeping. I have images of people torturing others, execution and whatnot, all related to the Japanese Occupation. I've never quite talked to anybody about these pictures, but sometimes these can be frightening. But these aren't the most frightening nightmares I've had. The worst ones were the shortest ones, ones of me falling down a flight of stairs. And kabooom! I would wake up in cold sweat (picture drama serials).
I also absolutely scorn the hedonistic way of living, just as I hate convenient choruses, convenient plot development, convenient endings. Watching 'Date Movie' last night just reaffirmed my opinions. I really thought the movie was bad. It wasn't very funny to begin with, which is really a cause for concern mainly cause humour can, and at most times, pretty successfully make up for the conveniences. It's trying attempting to seek answers to this world. Answers that nobody can answer me, answers that I try to conjure up in my mind through constant questioning, but only to end up with a whirlpool of emotions, mixed emotions, mainly painful, pessimistic ones. Sometimes I do enjoy the feeling of pain, of sorry, especially when I listen to good music (well, good in my opinion anyway). I like songs that make me cry, like Iris, like Best of You. They seem to liberate me from this knot thats binding me to this world, making me feel alive. What could be better, than feeling truly alive in this world.
That is why I want to be a musician. But a word exists in my dictionary that doesn't for most, which is FEAR. I'm afraid that my perceptions of myself are merely exaggerated by my dreams and desires. That I'm not really that good in reality, and all of these prohibit myself from stepping out of the Circle of Convenience to do what I really love to do.
I'd love to believe in myself, but sometimes its hard, especially when the world's so screwed.
posted@11:06 AM
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
I've had about enough.
I know I'm gonna sin like crazy for saying this, but at times I'm really sick and tired of living with my parents. They're orthodox people who do not understand their children at all, in case they don't realise it. I think even my grandparents understand me more than they do.Not only do they see themselves as people who deliver the gospel truth (although they make alot of sense at most times and mean the best), they think whatever they are doing is right, and what they deem as wrong will be wrong. It's fucking annoying how they always go on and on about how they have to work and have no time for all other nonsense. Well, here's my 2 cents. I see the importance of earning money for the family, but hell, go ahead and do whatever you want and let me do whatever I want with my life. Since you can't provide me with so many things that exit the pathetic fucking boundary of monetary support, leave me fucking alone. If you have enough sense to say I'm already 18, I don't see how you don't have the ability to see the fact that I'm old enough to make my own decisions. Even till today, I choose my own schools, mould my own path, WITHOUT consulting you people. I can talk about nothing with you guys, except superficial mundane stuff.
So don't give me the shit and big hoo-haa when you spot a condom box in my room. And truth to be told, those were intended as VALENTINE DAY GIFTS for my classmates and schoolmates. And so what if I use them? Can the things that have been done become undone? No they can't, so just STFU. Your conservative minds never allowed your children any proper social education, so we learn it our way, with our friends. And if you find it hard to trust me with simple responsibilities, I find it really hard to become more than just the stationary mother/father-son relationship, where I see you for no more than 30mins in 24hours of my life everyday. Not that I want to see you guys, I'm pretty happier that way as well, honestly. I'm really happy the way I am, and I can't wait till I make my first penny, and move out of this god-damned place. All the beauty of the home is but illusionary, because beneath it lies a dysfunctional family, where the heads of the home aren't doing what they should, but rather, imposing their restrictions and traditions upon children who are half a century younger they are.
YOU NEVER KNEW YOUR SON, believe it or not. Come to terms with that fact, before you even start feeling the slight tinge of anger. Because your anger is but a feeling based on nothing close to UNDERSTANDING your children. What makes you happy, is seeing your children turn out the way you want them to be. Perhaps you might wake up from your senses, when you find out that your daughter has been making out with her boyfriend for the past few months or so on a weekly basis, when you think your angel has been the constant mugger and oh-so-interllectual street/life smart woman. Or perhaps I should start snorting coke, or heroin, or even create my own concotion of synthetic drugs. Because if it helps you both, or maybe potentially more parents realise the grim realities of the pathetic roles you have been playing, it might be worthwhile afterall.
Well here's the catch, in case you haven't quite realised:
Your son lies through his teeth, because telling the truth to you is just as good as bringing forth your heartattack or some shit like that. Your son also has a girlfriend, and has been with her for about half a year or so. What's more, he's also a vulgar boy who disses teachers and classmates alike, and loves music and singing. He also adores many of the "noise" you perceive, and always dreams of being in the biggest thing in Singaporean Rock history. He loves Philosophy, and has lost his faith in God, and His existence, just as how he has lost his faith in his parents, a bloody long time ago. He's been depressed before, and you people did practically zilch to help him overcome it. He had to do it himself, and it didn't help with all your fucked up sarcastic remarks that I will vividly remember. You know I'm thankful you're not English Educated, because this post alone might fill you with so much guilt, the world might stop revolving and for all I know, you might feel SORRY. All these while, whether or not I'm right or wrong, or if I have any grievances inside me, I have to bow my fucking head down and apologise, sincerely. And I meant every one of them, despite feeling so submissive after it. All because I'm a fucking Chinese, and born to ordothox, traditional parents who know nothing about equality, much more sparing more than half a second to listen to their kids and actually consider their input.
Does it even matter if I help you out at your shop? Because I only get dissed, scolded, mocked over and over again, while your fucking daughter is at home with her oh-so-busy university lifestyle. Truth to be told, I was in the exact same shoes as her, in fact busier, and I still put some time aside to help you when father goes to Japan. Well, ever seen your daughter even offering? Yeah of course she does, during crucial, strategic moments. And I had to do this since I was like Primary 4? While your dear youngest son is already Primary 5 has issues bathing on his own, much less help you right? Oh he's so weak, oh he's still young. Well, so when will I EVER be too old, or when have I EVER been too young to help out? Never. I HATE THIS FUCKING LIFE.
I'm already so sick of living this life, and the things that keep me going are the things that you want to take away from me - My girlfriend, my music, my way of living my life. The things I love so much and dearly. Take them away from me one by one, and I will ensure the punctuation of my life in no time. Frankly, I'm not gonna give half a damn whether or not commiting suicide will ensure me a direct passage to hell. What's hell when you're already living in one on mortal earth? I'm merely existing because I care for the people I love, and have unfinished business. I do not yearn for material comfort or pleasure in the future, I just want to finish my business here, and get the fuck out of this life.
I'm feeling really sinful, but it's been inside me for so long, and I've just been avoiding this problem. I feel so much better now. I'm really tired, and please, for Pete's sake, give me a fucking break. If there's anything you can do, just leave me alone. You know how stupid it is to have a curfew when you're a guy and 18? Holy shit man, not even my girlfriend has one, and I do. I feel like such a wuss, like some protected Mummy's Boy.
Like Serene puts it stingingly, "More like Mummy's slave".
posted@9:58 PM
