My hands are free,

my wrists are tied.

My face is happy,

my smile's a sigh.

I remember hello,
but I meet goodbye.

 

The more I live,

the more I die.

I don't understand it,

But you know why.

 

 

 

Star Trek LCARS On My Android

Having been using an Android mobile phone for some time now, I've actually scoured the web for a Star Trek theme for a really long time. Results were always the same. Similar to a search for cash in my wallet, nothing of note if anything at all.

I began to wonder if my sense of desperation to fulfill that geeky need to have some kind of trekker (or trekkie) looking phone device in my hands, the way one would feel when stuck in the middle of an empty plain with bursting bowels, would ever find relief.

Then it dawned on my wilting mind that I could dig a hole myself, instead of waiting for a kind passerby. Starfleet didn't prepare me for this.

Now I have my own little Star Trek inspired theme on my Android, and I feel a little closer to the future. And my mind is back in space. Or probably just pretty much spaced out as usual. I still pretend to be a handicapped Vulcan who goes through pon farr every seven hours. Ok, maybe I'm not pretending.

Feel free to get it too, if you are using an Android smartphone and have a little urge to have a similar look installed. Just take a look at the LCARS Star Trek theme for Go Launcher on Google Play (link) and make it so. Oh yes, you'll have to use Go Launcher Ex to use this theme, which comes with a host of very cool features too. If you really like it, and you do use it, my deepest thanks to you for buying me a drink. If you should pop into Ten Forward, I'll bring some Orion slaves along to entertain you.

Live long and prosper. Even if your planet has been destroyed by a reboot.

Repetitive Memories & Life

What I Have Learnt From Life

There is an eerie compulsion to be nice even though according to certain reliable sources, I am obviously not (I might also say I think that Geylang is just as a reliable source, for virtuous potential foreign brides). An odd Neanderthal need to be appreciated by the ones I love or care about. Much as the darkness that thrives in my words and its incessant whine on the pointless deeds for nothing, people and life, I still end up trying.

Tasting sweet nectar occasionally, I push on only to realize the foul phlegm spat upon my back. I can still feel it encrusted on the blades wedged between my shoulder blades by hands of a proclaimed epitome of empathetic kindness. I guess some people might take the loving stealth, demonstrated in placing the forementioned sputum from a discreetly malicious mouth and knife, without my knowledge, as love. I certainly hope they experience the joy that they so lovingly offer to others, as well. Many times over.

Well, I did talk about the darkness within my words, haven’t I? Nah, I don't wish anything on them. Life has a beautiful road of parity on it's own. Duplicity is amazingly mirrored and ultimately projected to and from the associates in their lives.

But there is a reason for my words, I suppose. Caring and sharing has certainly improved my life. It has lightened my load, especially where assets and cash are concerned. And it has also dramatically provided my complexion with a certain glow, much like a radioactive scrotum.

Do the right thing I say, in light or darkness. Silly me. I’ve been roasting a brick, while dreaming of marshmallows.

I’ve always wondered, if there is really something this world has to offer. After all that I’ve gone through, I can honestly say, yes. Being the deluded clever thing that I am (one might say I resemble those round things found on the tentacles of an octopus), I dove right in to experience every sensation I could from what I would assume to be the beauty of life, within the confines of what I would desperately attempt to hope is the morally correct thing to do. I discovered how life offered me a chance to bleed. I didn’t believe it.

I believed truly in the possibilities of truth and integrity. It gave me a new fork deep in my perineum.

I still believe in life. I truly still do.

I believe it will end eventually. Soon. Please.

The Void

Void, empty, hollow inside
My dreams have fled, my hopes have died
Existence has no reason
Life's just passing with each season

She was my life, my hope, my love
All is gone, passed by thereof
The hurt is such no one should bear
What's to life, why should I care?

I weep all night for my love gone
My heart is sick, for death I long
Mine eyes well tears for love that's lost
I'll mourn always for the great cost

But in each day Lord give me hope
Strengthen me so I may cope
Grant me wisdom to help me see
Thy great way and not just me.

Torn

I'm good, I'm bad.
I'm strong, I'm weak.
I'm happy, I'm depressed.
I'm patient, I'm angry.
I'm decent, I'm filthy.
I'm virile, I'm impotent.
I'm funny, I'm lame.
I'm kind, I'm harsh.
I'm carefree, I'm emotional.
I'm apathetic, I'm nosy.
I'm flexible, I'm a control freak.
I'm stoic, I'm senstitive.
I'm loving, I'm lustful.
I'm submissive, I'm dominatng.
I'm playful, I'm flirtatious.
I'm giving, I'm selfish.
I'm sexy, I'm depraved.
I'm right, I'm wrong.
I'm passionate, I'm fixated.
I'm exciting, I'm boring.
I'm persevering, I'm tired.
I'm sensual, I'm disgusting.
I'm alive, I'm dying.

I'm witty, I'm a fool.
I'm quiet, I talk too much.

I'm a blessing, I'm a torment.
I'm cloaked in righteousness,
I'm a sinner.

I'm never the first,
I'm never the last.
I'm loved, I'm an alternative.
I'm at peace, I'm in pain.

I laugh, I cry,
I love, I despise.
I want to live, I want to die.

My face, my mask.
I am me, I am somebody else.
I am a joke, I am not funny.

I want more, I have had enough.

Wrong

A Prayer.

I am writing this down now, that I might remember how and what I am feeling.

It's not the first, and when I felt so before, something has or will happen in my life. And it's not a good feeling. The last time I felt something similar, it changed my life and threw it into the gutters for a couple or more years. Other times, I may not have realised the changes or perhaps I didn't pay attention in my own spirituality. Other times, I felt blessed and had embarked on mission work for a short while.

Now, my mind seems to be going in circles giving me a numbed headache, my heart racing downwards as if towards a certain unsavoury feeling. I am rather nauseous intermittently. There is a bad feeling around me, what perhaps one might call bad vibes.

I know not what to do. Yet I feel like my Father God is stirring the Holy Spirit in or around me and perhaps warning me or perhaps preparing me for something to come, or already has.

I praise Your Name above all names.
Give me strength oh Lord, and wisdom.
I trust in Your ever-abundant comfort and love.
Whatever it may be, or may not,
I shall endeavour to walk with You always.
I'm sorry oh Lord, and do forgive me, where I have trespassed against You.

You are my shepherd; I shall not want.

You make me to lie down in green pastures;
You lead me beside the still waters.
You restore my soul;
You lead me in the paths of righteousness
I will be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication,
with thanksgiving, letting my requests be made known to God;
and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding,
will guard my heart and mind through Christ Jesus."

Thank you, Jesus. In Christ's Name.
Amen.

Perhaps, You'll have a little whiskey with me. In moderation.

Count on me, Singapore

We have no vision for tomorrow,
(We have no eyes, we cannot see)
We have no goal for Singapore,
(We need FT, we need FT)
You and me, we have no part, of the money, cos we're not smart.
We need spurs in our hides, to work day and night.
Can only stop, after we've died.

There is nothing down the road that we can strive for,
We are told that we are daft and ignorant lor.
Our government, full of hot air,
it's a feeling we all share,
we work like animals, for Lee and P A P...
There's no reprieve, there's no reprieve.

Chorus:

Count on me, Singapore. (X 2)
Pay money, give my life till no more.
So our ministers can earn even more.

Together Singapore, Singapore. (X 2)

----

Happy National Day 2010. :)

Insignificance

The light dazzles my eyes

Basking me in its beauty

Spears rupture my soul

Something bleeds within me

My mind clings to hope

Hands clinging to sand

I am nothing worthy

To the very end.

 

Emptiness

But I shall yet not die

For hope still keeps me alive

That my eyes may yet set

themselves upon you.

I Journey On

Some people live their dreams,
Some people close their eyes,
Some people’s destiny passes by.

Sometimes, what we think is the destination, turns out to merely be a waypoint. Choices made, not necessarily by our doing or decision along with serendipity has moved me along to realize the truth of reality.
 
It is never easy to never look back, to the waypoint that would have been the destiny. I guess there comes a time when I have to accept that I am merely a point along your track of life, and then it would be silly for me to imagine or hope that my destiny lies with you.
 

I suppose there always lies an innate hope, albeit selfish, in people who have moved on in their lives, expecting the people left behind to hold on to the emptiness of a false or dark destiny. But I think it is time I moved along with my life too, just as I can see you have, instead of clutching at straws while drowning in the stagnant waters you left behind.
 

Someday, perhaps, paths might meet again. Perhaps if they do, we will walk together again, even if it’s for a little while. Perhaps destiny loops, perhaps when forever is through, I’ll be over you. But dreams just shouldn’t be placed in a probability. You can’t be the last, if you cannot last.

God bless, and may you find joy in your new waypoints of life and live in a happy destiny.

My destiny awaits. I journey on.

Forgettable

It was a day no different from any other. One that is entirely forgettable, yet time insists I go through the motions of breathing and sensory awareness. I've stopped wondering, it's tiring to process the thoughts that constantly run through my mind like rampant nudists over a patch of dying grass. My brain feels like that patch of grass.

I thought I'd take a long walk, to perhaps find a moment in time that I might not quite forget. It was a glimmer of hope that felt as bright as a glimmer in the puddle of mud left in the sun. Something that lasts forever, only in the span of a very finite time.

Walking along the sidewalk, I find myself making a very momentous decision. I thought I'd get a haircut. With the current intricacies and excitement of my life, a haircut is quite akin to sex for a virgin. Perhaps I could also buy some stuff, some toiletries, or just something. I thought that might be nice. Perhaps it might even be quite like foreplay to the previous analogy.

I finally reached an area where shops gathered to prey on wandering shoppers.

As I browsed through one (a shop, not a shopper), I made mental targets of toiletries available. They should last me quite a while, considering I've not found a reason to use them for some time. Very forgettable times.

Looking at the barber next door, I thought I should probably get the haircut first, but maybe I should walk a little more, at the very least, to the ATM for some extra cash. I remembered I had some, but I knew it would be quite some time before I bothered walking here again. And I'd rather have some cash left after paying for the haircut and stuff. So as I reached into my pocket, I headed towards the machine and made a discovery that would change my plans for the day, instantly.

I had forgotten to bring my wallet.

Fuck.

Something Good

A song written by a friend, sings my soul's cry.

You come back to your room

You switch on yellow night lights just beside the bed

You draw the curtains close

You lie down in your clothes and try to sleep instead

You put your hand across

You feel a cold where a good warmth used to lie beside

You lie down in the light

The short hand of the hour just has passed you by

You know there's something missing, from this place

A little something missing, you can't face

You know there's something dying, in this place

A little something crying, in this space

There's a trace

Of something good.

The sun peeks through the gap

You never got the rest that you needed for this day

You shower in a daze

You're wondering if this life has just faded to the gray

Broken pieces on the floor

You throw out with the rest of the life you had before

You walk out through the door

And glance back to the place that was home and so much more

You know you need to move on, from this place

You know you need to be gone, and replace

Of all the things you wanted, there's no space

To keep a piece of mind, of that face

Not a trace

Of something good

Of something good

- Hamdan Selamat

ú-chebin estel anim

Exclusive Exclusion

Several months ago, while chatting with online, Mickey was sharing a joke that a mutual good friend Donald had just told him. I mentioned that we should all get together for a drink, since we hadn’t done that for a while. Mickey said I could ask Donald myself, since Donald is online too. I asked if Donald was “appearing offline” and shot an invite to Donald at the same time. Mickey informs me otherwise. Donald was available for chat. Then a couple of minutes later, Donald appeared online.Donald told me Mickey said we should go for a drink. I said ok and we did, later.

Cool, I just found out Donald had blocked me online that day.

It was weird, but it wasn’t a big deal. I don’t particularly initiate chats unless I actually have something I need to say. We had hardly chatted online too, so figuring that I was exclusively blocked for some reason, I didn’t see a need to keep Donald in my list.

A few weeks ago, a chat window popped up onscreen. It was Donald, who asked if I wanted to get together for dinner with some friends. We chatted a little, and Donald mentioned we hadn’t chatted online for quite a while. I told him I’m always contactable, and besides he had my number. I also told him, he could always feel free to chat with me when he wanted to, when I was online. Donald laughs and said I could say hi too. I laughed and told him I had already removed him from my contact list on MSN.

I haven’t heard from Donald since. *LOL*

It’s normal that friends may maintain an interest in their friends’ lives. Many of us keep tabs on friends online, even if we may not have contacted each other for some time. That’s why many of us maintain blogs or profiles on networking sites like Facebook, MySpace, Friendster, Twitter or Plurk. We're updating our friends on our lives or thoughts and getting updates from them whenever.

Privacy is important and fair. We could have profiles that we don’t want the general public to see and so we keep it to only our friends and family.

If there is something I’d rather keep to myself, I wouldn’t even put it up.

But having a special mention in a block list is just a tad too special. I maintain blocklists for a reason. But I also know its quite impossible to truly block anyone in particular, so I only do it when it’s a spammer or someone I do not wish to see at any time. Imagine for example, being told of something a good friend posted online. Only to discover anyone can see it, except you. Yes, that means you’ve been exclusively excluded. I’m sure you’d feel very special too. :-P

When someone I consider a good friend etc, exclusively marks me out for a special mention in a block list somewhere somehow, I don’t think I need to give an explanation on why I lose interest in anything that person does or goes through.

I’m there if I’m needed as a friend, but on my own time and left to my own devices I won’t bother to preoccupy myself with the Donalds in my life. Or presumably out of my life.

A Special Wish For You

Merry Christmas darlin'

We're apart that's true

But I can dream and in my dreams

I'm Christmas-ing with you

Pub Wars - Part 1

A long long time ago (ok, so it wasn't really that long),
in a galaxy far far away (ok ok, so its really a pub thats not really that far away either)...

Liam Neeson made a secret visit to a pub where I was chilling out. Ok so its just someone who looks like him, but it just made me feel like Yoda.

Since its unlikely I'd see the real ones, my next hope is to see other lookalikes. Examples would include Jessica Alba, which would just give me a fantastic time. And yes, Megan Fox, who'd hopefully play with my bumblebee and make me feel like Optimus Prime.

The force is in me. Now who wants to play with my lightsaber?

2009 - Year of the Bull

And the bull sure had a great time decorating every patch of greenery in my life with dung. It’s been a delightful year with thrills that can only be felt by an eunuch watching porn.

People have been asking me, so what have I been up to lately?

Well, I’ve been breathing. It’s a really exciting hobby. All the thrills of a roller coaster running on a meter long track. Usually I would go for the common enjoyment of drawing breath through my nose, but sometimes I feel really adventurous and draw deep gulps of air with my open mouth.

Just the other day, I sneezed. You can imagine how incredibly awesome it was. Almost like the memorable coughing fit I had several weeks ago. The release of phlegm was truly the epitome of fun in wild October. One could almost say it was orgasmic. I would, if I could remember what an orgasm is. For all I know, the phlegm could’ve been dead zombie sperm that got bored sleeping and broke out of their hibernation pods below the old rusty rocket.

Breathing can be a wonderful hobby. I do it all the time, even in the midst of other fun activities. Just the other day, I was so engrossed in breathing; I stayed up all night watching a two-hour long cinematic excrement on TV. The movie was so exciting I almost wanted to stab myself. But I was too engrossed with breathing and too lazy to move my butt.

Won’t be long now, before Christmas arrives. I’ve a good feeling this holiday season will be exceptional. The anticipation is akin to the thrilling wait for an elevator to arrive while standing in the wrong building. In fact, the only thing that could beat this feeling would be the New Year. I await the coming of 2010, like a constipated man waiting for diarrhea.

The downside of my wild uninhibited lifestyle (as anyone can see from my wild activities described above), is that very few people can accept my unbridled passion for life. Even my shadow refuses to talk to me now. But so what, everybody leaves, I don’t care anymore. I greet each new day with the same unbridled kick everyone gets when they enter a toilet cubicle right after some fucker, who didn’t flush.

Die, you motherfucking bull.

If Tomorrow Never Comes

What once was, will always be.

Love never ends,

even if memories are all I can see.

I'm glad to know you're happy.

May joy and blessings be upon you.

I love you.

But it doesn't matter anymore.

I will lie to myself from now on,

and forevermore...

Waves of Oblivion

The huge waves at the foreign beach have always been, and still are an irresistible draw to my every sense. The feel of the ocean’s power and the relative safety of its surf and so much more, makes me want to return every year, whenever I can.

A single look at its beauty, pulls at my every fibre. Drawing me towards its embrace.

Perhaps it was only eventual that I discovered the other side of its siren call. Bliss and pure thrill, turned into an everlasting moment of non-realisation that I could have drowned and be with my beloved sea. Forever.

The low tides, brought upon a tremendously strong rip current, which I normally never had a real problem with. Swimming against the current, and trying to swim with the waves had totally exhausted me out, but I just kept going and eventually reached a friend who managed to pull me closer to shore.

I never thought I might have died, nor was I overly concerned, except that my mind seem singularly focused on swimming back to shore, to life. That perhaps I might hold you again.

I could have probably died. But I am alive.

You draw me irresistibly whenever I see you, as little as it may be now. You have a new life now. Perhaps an ocean away from my dead pond. And I can feel the chasm you have put between us even when you are near. Perhaps I am a fool. Perhaps I am human. And perhaps, I am just caught in the waves again.

I am happy to watch the waves from afar. Perhaps I shall return to the waves soon, when I can. I am unable to tolerate this cold cave and this life if I had not a hope to see the beautiful ocean once more.

But this time, I no longer have a reason to swim back to shore. Perhaps the waves can bring me away, someday.