the rising tide

as i type this a whole gamut of emotion floods over me. recently, i've been trying to pick myself up with a better schedule, some accountability with BoB and a bit more of god's word.

today however was a downer; i set my alarm so early that all it did was serve to bug me enough (at 6.30am) to switch the darn thing off and subsequently proceed to oversleep. thank heavens my mum was in a charitable mood and woke me at 8:15. i flew out the door in 5 mins, gave a quick call to my client who was coming at 9 and explained that i would be more like a 9:15 to 9:30. he was not unreasonable, and it was a 9:15 in the end, thank god. i grabbed lunch, but not before meeting Jon at OCBC to collect my month-overdue cheques.

interesting incident: i was lunching at my usual 菜贩 (mixed dishes) stall opposite bugis when i spotted what looked like an ex-convict making his rounds selling keychains or something. i absolutely hate rejecting these guys, and i didn't feel strong enough so i moved to a table just outside the coffeeshop, pretty much facing the road and bugis junction. however, as god would have it, he (of course) made his way round till he was at my table outside, persuading me to buy. he mentioned that he's had depressive episodes when his left hand trembles and he would hear voices. i said i had no interest because i didn't have any use for his mini torchlight, and he started suggesting i could donate like 2-3 bucks to him. i didn't want to do that so i told him i could buy him a meal (a tactic i learnt many years ago). he said he wasn't hungry and could he please have the money instead? i said no go bro, meal or nothing (the actual words and tone didn't sound as cool as i make it out to be here). he settled for the bak chor mee, which cost me $3.50, and i was happy to buy him. we commenced chatting, and it was a great time, honestly, because i rarely meet anyone outside my comfortable sphere of "Christopherdom". i learnt that he has 3 girls (apparently, couldn't tell if he was lying) with an ex-wife, and lives on his own in a rental in geylang. he's been admitted to IMH few times for his issues, and is now eeking out a living with abovementioned method.

a key revelation of our meeting was the realisation that he actually possibly makes more money than i do. he makes about $100 a day, which works out to about $2k a month, whereas i'm sitting on an average of 1.5-2k at the moment. what a revelation, we're in the same economic boat, and here i am treating him to lunch. laugh out loud will you? he said he's been exposed to all the major religions (been to mega churches, temples, mini churches, indian temples, the lot) we have in singapore, and finds that they're all similar, with similar goals and end points. my terrible mandarin attempt at explaining that the bible actually professes to be the absolute truth (thereby rendering other religions false) is one of the key tenets which sets us apart from other faiths. i respect anyone who believes in something other than me, but to then say that all roads lead to rome and we are all one is plainly The Nile (denial, gettit gettit?). we have to agree to disagree and remain bffs, NOT say that what's yours is mine and mine is yours and it's awlgud for3va and eva.

ANYWAY, he smokes the cheap self-rolled ciggies and i was trying also to point out the counter-productiveness of that endeavour, juxtaposed against a backdrop of making more money (by saving more), quite counter-productively. i must admit i felt a bit cheated at the end of my feelings because he smoked 3 cigs in the time we spent together, but i'm constantly reminded that addictions are hard to kick and people are ... people. fallen human beings congregate in various places on earth (and rarely, on the moon) all the time and it's not my job to be his saviour. i did what i could, given the circumstances. after we parted, i said a quick prayer for him.

fast forward to tonight and we have familiar feelings for a girl i'm starting to fancy quite a bit, jumbled up with the news that MH370's potential debris has been spotted and the plane tracked well enough for us to conclude that it has indeed made its final destination the south indian ocean. it's been long enough that my initial fervour and voraciousness for any news concerning MH370 had petered out to a casual shunting of these goings-ons to the back of my mind, there but not really there. to have the realisation hit you in the face that they probably crashed in one of the most remote places to be found on earth, is heart-shattering.

i didn't accomplish what I'd set out to do today: complete 2 job applications to fitness first and CGH. tomorrow, perhaps, tomorrow.

i love writing

have i ever told you that before? no? well.....strange. because.... i do. i just don't know it yet, because, i haven't exactly written a lot in the past.... oh, 20 years. did you know, that i used to write match reports of the soccer we used to play in fairfield methodist primary? i can still remember how the notebook looked like (roughly). it'd make my year if i could find that notebook replete with my match reports again. i think it's gone. anyhow, i used to have a splendid memory. i'd know who was on who's team, who made the plays, scored the goals, and all the keynote pieces of action that took place. and i'd chronicle all that down, and more, in a detailed (for a reporter of 8 or 9), descriptive and vivid account. i guess i do have  natural appetite for dramatization. a pity i think that notebook is now very much history.

for a grown man now at a tender age of 29, depressed and depressive, it brings a smile to my face reading through my essays of old, penned under the watchful and sometimes-crazed eye of mrs camilo heng, form teacher of 6B. my recent meetup with daniel was memorable for the way he said he could not get over how unreasonable and unlikable she managed to be quite often, and how he still feels his emotions rising just thinking of it, more than 15 years on.

the days at fairfield will be forever treasured, forever cherished, and forever upheld in my mind as the most fun, innocent, and clean-cut times of my life. a new chapter is to be written from today.

boring as needles

you know, reflecting on the many years that have gone by, especially in recent times, i realise i haven't actually chronicled my journey in any significant way at all. there are subtle hints here and there (by that i refer solely to the dated digital photographs yet to see the light of day) that i retain but mostly everything is a hazy blur. it's time to change all that.

CUE..... THE AGE OF TRIGGER FINGER BLOGGING.

anytime, anywhere, anyhow only. we just had huimin's birthday surprise, second year running, in exactly the same manner. different people (somewhat), but cooler yet (who surprises people in exactly the same manner two years in a row??!) she's a happy girl.

need to read my bible a little more, maybe i should start with Chronicles...

Thankful

Thank God for a time such as this. Rare has it been....... rare it has been.

2013

It was 2013, and my life was in danger of spiralling out of control (if it hadn't already). In spite of my worst efforts, I continued in a state of paralysis and constant fear of anything that was matter, and the stupor was the constant in a living, breathing world of change and evolution.

All feelings were familiar, well-rehearsed, impossible. The to-do list was topping out at over 20482 items, but none of them ever got done, at any appreciable rate anyway. 'where do i end, and where do i begin?', begged the sorry question. Am i such a pretentious fool who can spend time posting up details of my life while... my life literally continues wasting away? I have read, that low sel-esteem is in fact pride rearing its ugly head, and I admit I am loathe to say it is. In spite of my insignificance of size and stature in this entire UNIVERSE, pride loves to rear its ugly head in any situation it can get its hands on (notice I speak about it the third person) and deign to elevate me to the highest position at the apex of the human chain. Oh what folly, and what naïveté.

God help us, all.

HOHOHO

What manner of inspiration hit me to create a blog with such a cool and retarded name? Sweet.