| God Made Cars |
[25 Nov 6.18pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 contemplative |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
The Quavers - God Made Cars |
] |
Oh I don't need the napkin map you drew for me
cause I can see where your eyes are
bright as supermarkets, wide as highways
and the summer spilled her nail polish all over my steering wheel
"you know you'll never get that off , but there you are"
that's why god made cars
so get a light up globe and plug it in the dashboard lighter
and fill the windshield with glow tape stars
that's why god made cars
there's a billboard for every broken heart
and a shoulder to pull off and cry on
cause no one can see you there when you're in your car
that's what you told me, and I believed you
|
|
| Jagged Little Pill |
[24 Nov 10.03am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 touched |
] |
Last night as I was recovering from a crazy party on Saturday that ended at 5am on Sunday, I was told by a friend that his dad is very ill and may live for only one more year. I was shocked and sad. I was awestruck by the juxtaposition of life and death - the commemoration of birth one day, and someone else's possible death the next.
That life is unpredictable is more than a cliche; it's the truth.
I also thought about human strength. I've been lucky enough not to have a very close someone pass away but I know from funerals I have been to, and meeting people who've had to go through the deaths of loved ones that grief can be a very dark and painful place. But yesterday, someone else whom I'm very close to who lost his mother to cancer said that when someone dies you can choose from one of two options: either crawl into that dark cave or move on. He chose the latter. It prompted me to tell him that I wished I was there while he was going through it, but then he said, "I think it's more important that you're here now."
|
|
| Massage and Me |
[14 Nov 1.42pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 lazy |
] |
Last night was the first time in my life I had ever gone for a massage in Singapore. I have had countless done in Thailand but never here.
My work revolves around the computer so I sit there eight hours a day, hell-bent (pun very much intended) to write and type. The day always begins fine, I make my cup of coffee which helps to calm my email-nerves, I get started on my work. Then at about 3pm the problem begins. My lower back starts experiencing these dull aches which I can do nothing about and my only remedy so far has been to pound on it with my right fist like I'm 70.
All the years of ignoring the advice of the oftentimes evil nurses who conducted health checkups that we had in school were stabbing me in the back. They were always all like you know you have a crooked spine and in my teenaged mind I'd be thinking what a judgmental bitch.
Post-work, I decided to go for a massage. With two hours of sleep as advertised by my eye bags and an aching back, I walk around scouting for a good place to go. I found one, got undressed (bright pink underwear day of all days) and climbed face down into that signature massage bed I call Hole-in-One. I was tense at first. The knots on my back were being murdered one by one with hard rubs and rolls and I wasn't sure how I felt about my back being the platform upon which multiple deaths were occurring. Soon, though, slicked in oil, I eased into a half-asleep mode.
The massage was like an aha moment to a problem, it was the quick remedy to my back problem. I'll probably go back soon only this time I'll be armed and prepared to fend off salespeople cajoling me into "signing a package". I want to tell them I have three insurance policy bills to pay for in a month, I don't need more monetary commitment! More importantly, I think I should also see a chiropractor.
|
|
| Everything that is really great and inspiring is created by the individual who can labor in freedom. |
[10 Nov 2.29pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 content |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Leonard Cohen - Anthem |
] |
I'm going through what I'd like to call The Favourite Period of the Month - at Work. The hyphen being absolutely necessary to deceive you into thinking I'm going to talk about my Aunt Flo when this is about something completely unrelated. I just love it when people assume a girl's blog is all about the mood swings and PMS. It's The Favourite Period of the Month - at Work because I have wrapped up my writing duties and have handed the job over to the designers for layout. Think vocational "what's mine is yours".
This is the time I get to surreptitiously tweet like a maniac, post one up here, write for my website, I could probably make a flux capacitor with the photo frame sitting on my desk and my lomograph; you name it I can do it. By the way, did you know Twitter now displays updates on your tabs such that whenever someone tweets you'll see something like this, "x (number of tweets)". So it's official, Twitter has reached Facebook's level of not leaving its users alone, ever. Like how even when I'm not on Facebook I get mails that say, "6 People Interested!" The other day I was daydreaming and read the "6" as triple 6 and could've sworn all my years of do bad had caught up with me and caught the attention of the devil himself. Obviously, I was imagining things and overreacting.
Speaking of which, and I may be alone in this but when someone tells me to "relax", I feel like whatever I'm feeling at that moment couldn't get any worse. If I'm angry, I get angrier, sad, I get sadder, hella fuckin pissed off, I just go lie down until the the urge to kill that person that pissed me off (chances are it's the same person that told me to relax) passes. Yesterday was one of those days I realised the effect that the word "relax" has on me. I loathe the word. The only people who get special passes to that word are my yoga instructor and masseuses because if I murdered them for telling me to relax, and that's their job, I deserve to be put away for the good of society. Though, many would argue I deserve to be put away for the good of society regardless.
"There's a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in." - Leonard Cohen
Update: By now there are (8) new tweets. You know I have to go refresh that page.
|
|
| Picking Yourself Up |
[23 Oct 5.51pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
content |
] |
I'm totally chuffed that I survived this crazy week, and even more so when I think about my upcoming trip to Koh Phangan at an awesome resort! I desperately need to be out in the sun and away from Singapore for a bit.
Some people say the older you get, the more responsibilities you take on; life just doesn't get any easier. While I can't disagree because life does get a little harder, you also learn to deal with complications better and smarter.
So I may take a tumble and I may fall, but I can get myself up, dust my knees, and move on - and I sure as hell am not looking back.
|
|
| How Very Robinson Crusoe of Us. |
[08 Oct 5.39pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
contemplative |
] |
A dried leaf fell onto my head this morning, waking me up instantly. It seems Nature's way of keeping us awake comes in two forms; this and coffee. Only difference is, while one is free the other can cost upwards of $6. It's fascinating how Man conquers his environment and then puts a value to everything in it.
|
|
| Sick, Dying & Nothing Better to Do |
[06 Oct 12.07am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 sick |
] |
I'm officially sick. After 2 weekends of successfully staving off the flu bug. It has finally hit but unfortunately hasn't run. Went to see the doctor who told me my throat was dry and that I should avoid curry. I don't know what about me looks like I ate curry daily to get my throat parched but hey , whatever keeps the doctor away.
Apart from kicking myself for wasting my new shirt on a day where it was impossible to look good - I went to work in a brand new shirt, looked like crap the entire day and then threw in the towel and left the office at about 5pm - I'm also wondering why it is that the body behaves like a child. When it doesn't get its way, in my case a lack of water, it starts drying up and getting wet in all the wrong areas. I.e., throat and nose respectively. It doesn't think of all the things I've done for it like run for it, yoga for it, etc. Where is gratitude when you need some?
I've given up counting the number of tissues I've exhausted; I stopped counting at 543. Down with a flu and the trees go down with me. I need to get well, stat.
|
|
| Bending Backwards |
[29 Sep 5.14pm] |
|
Tried to amuse Haikal with my short story peppered with poker phrases: Hopefully tomorrow the train won’t be a full house. Yesterday I lost a seat to a woman in a bad beat. I turned my back which turned out to be a blind raise. She totally got me there. Out of nowhere these two cowboys walked in with their ladies. One of the men was Doyle Brunson, the other was just some other guy. The train pulled up at fifth street and I got my bus cards out to hold ‘em and tap myself out. I freaked out because I saw on the train track a live hand. What were the odss?! I passed. I raised the alarm but the station staff didn’t come to help so I re-raised. I then walked to the river. It was a hot day and I felt the royal flush.
He laughed his house down upon receiving my short story conveyed in three or four text messages.
|
|
| What We Call "The Great Scheme of Things" |
[29 Sep 12.56am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
contemplative |
] |
Recently Singapore has been marketed as “The City of Firsts”, first class airport, first F1 night race and so on. Sure, being first for these things come with a lot of prestige, but they also come with a price. With the last F1 race being completed on Sunday night, the roads have been closed with barricades put up here, there and everywhere around the Marina Bay circuit area to allow for road maintenance and to take down the temporary seats erected in honour of the year’s big tourism boosting event.
I happened to be in the area on Monday afternoon desperately seeking cab. To my dismay I came across a sign that made me realise I wasn’t going to be getting on one anytime soon – unless I waited till Tuesday after 5pm. Cursing my luck and Lewis Hamilton, I melted in the sweltering heat thinking of my work piling back at the office which made me nearly pass out. Don’t mind me waxing philosophical but that’s when it hit home: a personal problem that was so big to me was absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. I mean, how do you fight $100 million worth of profits that our country generated from tourism thanks to the F1 (last year) with a Nobody’s difficulty in getting a cab? Times like these, I think I’m more just one of the world, rather than one with the world.
P.S. Yeah, I still exist.
|
|
| Of Truth and Lies |
[22 Sep 4.29pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
contemplative |
] |
I never thought of myself as a person who's out of touch with reality; I strongly believe that I have a pretty good idea of the kind of person that I am.
Then something or someone comes along and tells you that you're not all that you think you are. In fact, you're a lot less than you think you are.
When that happens, do you believe what they say, or do you continue being the person you've known yourself to be?
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
kimmer12's journal