My One Cent Worth of Thoughts

Light bulbs burst over my head umpteen times (at very inappropriate times e.g. daydreaming while I was working, taking a break in the toilet, walking in negative 5 degrees conditions) a day. Yes! Surprise surprise! I do have aspiring ideas for my blog in every single hour. Righto dude I will write it, the very first thing I will do, I swear, when I touch base tonight. Awww….! I am hungry, no wait, gotta do the daily routine to halt the lateral growth. Huff Puff! Can I make it 3 sets?! Oh forget it. Squeezing the latent muscles, that should be enough. Time to encourage the growth. Cook (consists no more than popping instant food into the oven), eat, surf net, watch vcds, laze around, on my back, on my belly, watch the minute hand on my watch tick away, argh.. wash the plates just in time to prevent the flies from breeding. Look at laptop screen, groan, mind blank, time for bed.

My pathetic attempts at blogging every night!

There! I have done it, I am the heartless animal owner. I have given Hammie away to one of my friends, who is staying in Munich. Somehow, along the way, I have grown attached to the little bundle of problems and its ingenious disappearing acts.

It has, finally, started to respond to my touches and caresses. During its good hair days, it would let me pat it and scratch its fat belly, while reclining in bliss. Not only that, I have begun to recognise its eating patterns as well. The pesky rodent simply adored sunflower seeds, hated the healthy nuts and practically went crazy at the sniff of the sinful Nutella.

The space where its cage had been, seems emptier than ever. Sigh… I am going to miss the brat.

(I hope it is not giving its new owner a difficult time. It had managed to escape in the darkness of the very first night of my ownership. Its escapades will go on, but it has been passed on to yet, another unfortunate soul.)

The ending of a love-hate affair…..

In some mornings, have you ever slept for 8 hours the night before, and yet does not feel recharged in every way? Simply sitting there, staring but not seeing, thinking but have no thoughts running across the mind, feeling yet not feeling anything. Just remain motionless on the same spot as everything flows by.

Spoiler :

The next time you glance at the clockface, argh! You are terribly late for work!

Looks rather zen eh? Well, it is definitely not part of my meditation routine.

Something to cheer myself up with… oooh Kinky stuff… *whistles*

This link was enthusiastically contributed by Pig, who is extremely well-informed of my perverted preferences. Presto! An Ironing Board! Specially tailored to the needs of my domestic skills, I am set to become one of the top “ironers” in the world. The “What the **** is this confounded crease doing on the other side of the shirt! Heck! No one will see it there anyway! *pretends that the crease is not there*” statement will never spill out of my mouth again. Not only that, I will industriously create creases, oops, and iron them out again, all because of this wondrous board. I wonder how long it will take for the novelty to wear off.

Anyway, as I was telling him, I prefer the Asian look. For a Bae Yong Jun/Louis Koo board, I will gladly resign from my day job and become a professional ‘ironer’!!

Call it PPPMS (Pre pre… Menstrual Syndrome)… call it winter depression, the underlying statement is still – Life SUCKS, in fact, it sucks big time! Maybe some of you read my site for the entertainment of the day in your busy lives, sorry about this lousy, ugly, depressing piece. Well, people who know me (or maybe they do not really know me at all), may not believe it, but I am not optimistic and cheerful for all 365 days for the past 20 odd years. I succumb to the occasional depression BUG too. This piece of truth bothers me, yes, it is like the splinter in my thumb, I can feel it, but am unable to get rid of it.

However, in actual fact, I am already luckier than a lot of people in the world. I am not living in a war torn country, nor am I starving in poverty. Living in an almost developed country should give me freedom in my choices in my miserable life, but have I? Most of the time, I am living my life based on obligations. Well, it is unfair to accuse the people around me of forcing their expectations on me. In reality, I am the one who is binding myself down with it. So, who do I have to blame? I do make my own choices. Yet, I am sick, SICK of doing the right things, at the right time for the right people. I want to be wrong and well, absolutely, extremely terribly wrong. Being the coward that I am, I will never be able to accomplish it.

As I am writing this piece, I experience an unexplainable wave of numbness, tired of feeling for anything and everything around me. The constricted feeling around my heart just refuses to go away. I feel the urge of leaving everything behind and escaping into oblivion.

One more thing…

Eh! Comment (constructively, of course!) leh! Or else, email me leh! No response, very de sian leh!

*leh (Singlish) – just a typical slang at the end of every sentence.

My friend commented, “Interesting. I nearly couldn’t recognise the voice, you sound like you’re in a different world and living a whole different life. I almost couldn’t recognise it.” (Sorry Ed, I plagarized it from our email.)

I read through every single entry, wondering if I really sound different from the ME in real life? Then again, is the ME in reality the real ME, or is the blog ME the real one? Confusing issue, when it comes down to one’s own identity.

Well, probably the ME here is twice as insulting and sarcastic as in real life with triple extra dosages of courage to write things I might not have dared to express in front of everyone. Of course I might be sued if I am not careful, but scribbling it out on a computer monitor is much easier than saying it out LOUD and CLEAR. Evidently, I am turning into a computer nerd. After tete-a-tetes with the computer for 9 hours at work everyday, I come home joyfully into its arms. No-lifer, people would have commented.

Or probably, it is just this ME who is living far far away from people I have known for my whole life. And, the different way of living and culture is being reflected in the way that I write (doubtful but still…). Therefore, logically, I should revert back into my old self when I return to Singapore (willingly or reluctantly).

Hey, buddys (or is it buddies?!) do I really sound UN-ME here?