我，还在逃。

我以为，我没再逃了。梦，停了。不再出现了。我以为，我不跑了。长大了。

没。梦，变了。我还在跑，还在逃。只是场景变了。

我，长大了。

小时候的逃，是在家楼下。花园后的网球场是被追上的地方。就在那里开始躲。一面一面的墙壁迅速地在我眼前闪烁过。左边、右边。边跑，边躲。

现在的逃，是托着行李箱匆匆忙忙的离开。很混乱，很笨拙。能掉的掉，能坏的坏。很狼狈。终于能逃脱的地方，就是现在被追上的地方。一场大龙凤的当中，我就会惊醒。

我，还在逃。

Sounds

Just finished a series. In it, a radio DJ goes around town recording sounds of the city. Reminded me of when I once recorded these sounds in my head too.

It's been a while since I heard them. Have I forgotten how to?

I have no thoughts, no opinions, no inspiration. Even writing this line is an urge to go back and add in the word "new". Just to justify myself.

It isn't the heat of the world, for it can't take us away if we didn't allow it to. We created it and made it spin, and we get caught up by it and get lost in it. It is a self-perpetuating wave, and we look like we are proud of it.

I want my soul back. Be it the broken heart, or mindless whirl, or just the ennui of it all. I just want life to return, and my eyes to smile again.

I want to hear once more, the rhythmic march of the early morning crowd, the innocent remarks of a pre-school child, the sigh of tires on the road, the rumbling engine of a bus pulling up, the heartbeat of life that is life.

Come back.

Rest

Woke up feeling unusually tired today. Weary, exhausted, tired.

Thought back to the night before.

What wore me out

Or, have I finally rested

Running. Running.

怎么办。我脑海里看到的，是在雨中的奔跑。

Running. Running. Tears warm my face comfortingly. The rhythm of my footsteps assuring. It is a release fuelled by heartache. I can't see where I'm going, or have any direction in mind. Scenes flash through my head, but I have no idea where I am. I wear a dress, soaked fabric cling to my legs. My exposed arms shivering, I can feel the wrinkles in my toes.

世界依然的巡转，城市依然的流动。雨中，车子来来往往，街上无人横行。
唯有我；跑着，跑着。没人看，没人理。

舒。

In this society, there is only one right answer. And that is "Yes"

I've always grappled with the concept of saying "No". It was so simple, yet so complicated. It is such an easy answer to give, then such a difficult answer to accept. Later on, I would learn it to be a difficult reply too.

I loathe dressing up and going for whatever. It used to be because I did not have the appropriate clothes for the occasion. Then it was because of the awkwardness in that artificial skin we donned for the event. Now, even as I learn to be an actor, I still find myself uneasy breathing in a mood deliberately hung up by someone else. (Yes, it wouldn't be that bad if I could tune the air myself.)

A friend once told me, "If you do not have a valid reason, you'll have to go". Indeed. It was either "Yes", or "Yes, but", never a simple, straightforward, easy "No".

I always thought people were weird in asking why not. Then I realised even they don't know what they are asking. They've fallen into the norm, and can't see the others outside of it.

And of course there are those who know when they ask why not. Though their ability to weave around the norm would have already accepted my easy "No".

Fortunately or unfortunately for me, this is the way society will remain. The norm is too entrenched, and it is tough for a fabric to be weaved if weaknesses are to be just allowed. It isn't exactly respecting a choice, but more like keeping things together. Humans connect easier than we realise, in the same way we disconnect easier than we would admit. But a connection once made, at most fades. It doesn't go away, wanted or unwanted.

Wonder, what do those born in the norm see?

Travelling, a wanderer

This November, I've made two trips.

One on a seeking adventure through large cities and small towns, and another on a wandering stroll in a somewhat familiar place. I have mitigated the extremes in a sense, with extensive research and fact-finding before the trip to Japan, where I do not speak the language, and choosing a blank itinerary for Hong Kong, where I can get by sufficiently with speech.

Familiarity helps. Knowledge is necessary. It helps keep the eyes open, and prevents the senses from being overwhelmed.

We become conscious of ourselves in a foreign environment, suddenly realising how we are we, and how they are they. We need to first have an inkling of what others are like, so we can put these observations aside. Establish a basic reference, from which to enrich, shift, or obliterate altogether. That saves the effort of onerously building one in an unfamiliar city, where limited resources should be conserved.

Knowledge, must be packed for travels.

Us

One of us found the concept of portable barbeque. One of us needed company. One of us called for a meeting of the three of us.

We decided we would find a spot on Mount Faber, and went up the one-way road, and up and up and up, and then road started going down, and then down, and Mount Faber was over.

So we thought we would try out Bishan Park, and we went onto what we thought was CTE. And Toa Payoh went by. Then one of us opened the pack of Doritos. And it didn't matter where we were heading.

Out at Adam road, we decided we would do it at my place, and we were to reach before the Doritos ran out.

We ended up setting up the pit along the stairs. Sausages were to be fried instead.

End of food, we packed up and went back to the car for a drink. Parking lasted till 10.30pm, after all.

And we talked.

They left at midnight, on a Thursday night.

All because I needed company. That night, they wished only for me to sleep well, again.

Us.

Yes, you need a degree

Society needs university graduates. People need degrees. But not in the way the Singaporean government has made it out to be.

A university education should be about learning. Not blind pragmatism. It's true that school should be about skills for the work place, but the definition of those skills should not be limited to the same narrow field as the occupation.

It has been said that only 10% of what we learn in school is applicable in the work place. University takes up only four of 16 years in a typical JC student's study path. Then wouldn't the government's syllabus for the first 12 years be largely useless? Of course not! It is up to the individual to apply, however, whenever, whatever. Mathematics principles can be used in communication, geography cases in algorithm, history in strategy.

The classification of knowledge was never cast in stone firstly: computer, I.T., maths, physics, sociology, communication for example.

University opens minds. It puts you on the shoulders of giants. It illuminates the dance of ideas between the heads of many. It opens your eyes to see that thing you see every day differently. All before the brains of a typical undergraduate matures.

And for that, those who cannot bother with learning, should not bother with university.

Running and motivation

 

I succumbed. I ran my first 8km (4x2km) in 10 years today. The familiar scents of the rubber track and freshly cut grass juxtaposed with the consciousness I'm no longer running as a student. Through the humdrum of pounding feet, a few thoughts dropped in:

 

1. Without an end, the same task gets dreadful

2. The nearer to the end, the further it looks

3. Focus on the task, the process, the environment, the end, the goal, anything but yourself. Being self-centred gives up hope, and welcomes negativity

4. Breaks, work. But too many breaks pull you back.

5. Know yourself to be able to achieve more.

6. Negotiate and compromise, but never give up hope.

 

I am ready for my first speaking engagement!

Flood

In that instant, so many things rushed through my mind.

I really want to, but are you that person to?

That, is my great uncle

He has eight children and 13 grandchildren, together with their partners, and his wife of 60 years, all by his bedside on the morning of 11 May 2014. 30 people, including the domestic help, crowded into the upgraded three-room flat, all holding him the center of their world those two days.

He has awesome grandchildren, awesome children, an amazing wife, a beautiful family. They gave him a leg rub when he groaned, the children crowded around to tell him it was Chinese New Year and he must be happy, they told each other to do stuff for him, and they did. No complaints, no whining, no fear, no resistance.

The adults talk to anyone and everyone. They talk to the children, they talk to their mother, they talk to friends. They laugh at each other, with each other and for each other.

The children jump on top of each other and play. The boy with the smirk and swagger and bleached blonde hair eagerly brings out a set of chess to play with ah boy. They all joke and jab at each other. Then scramble over to pick up their things and head over to the coffin to wave goodbye before following their parents home.

Familiar, comfortable and naturally so. This is family.

He has a beautiful family.

That is my granduncle.

Shoes

Beautiful red shoes. Lovely cherry red. Centre of attention. Object of envy.

Alas, a pebble. Bites, nibbles, grinds, scratches, claws.

Endurance, ever possible. What's more, comfortable supporting cushions, beautiful assuring mother.

Endurance, starts dwindling. Cushions harden, protecting pebble. Still, beautiful assuring mother.

Stop, check. Bleeding, blistering feet. Pain, exhaustion, weariness.

Yet, beautiful red shoes, lovely cherry red.

原来我们比彼此意识的还要相同

我们，都固执。
坚持自己的想法，坚持自己的作风，坚持自己的理念，坚持自己爱的方式。
只是成长的环境不同，所以经历的事情不一样。结果，处事方式和看法不一。
原来我们比彼此意识的还要相同

白天不做亏心事

为了半夜不怕鬼敲门，小明就索性地把家里所有的门给拆了。

可是，鬼却觉得奇怪。它们明明都敲不了门。。

Silence

Such is when I enjoy the privacy of the two-wheeler.

What a beautiful sight. And I wish that the sun will be the only fireball all the children in the world will ever see.

Please stop fighting, Syria.

Tree

To see a magpie steal the straw from a sparrow's nest.
Just because the sparrow has

我。。们。

因为想念，所以踏出了第一步。
原来，就等我这一步。
原来，就等我。
很高兴我们仍然还是。
很庆幸我们依旧都是。
很开心我们以后也会是。

The pen is mightier than the sword

They say the pen is mightier then the sword. And so it is, with the English language. It cuts through to the heart without shedding a drop of blood. Yet, as it sends you into the thick of the action, it can't quite pack the nuances in human emotions. It is swift, it is concise, it hits the bull's eye.

Perhaps too quickly. It is a stripped down language, hardly bringing with it the burdens of usage. It is like the rolling stone that collects no moss. Easily moving from one place to another without changing too much. It is light, it is unladen, it doesn't stop to carry what else you have to give it. It is carefree.

Or perhaps it is because I have already crafted my writing as such. Sharpening the arrowhead to shoot through any bull's eye that might stand in the way. Knowing not just to hit at the mark, but to pierce through it. And perhaps because of this I made my arrow not to be thick and clumsy. It has to be lean and deft.

Perhaps one too many times of resting the arrow on the crossbow, I have unknowingly left a resting mark that only this arrow fits. Any others, I miss my mark.

Perhaps. Maybe after all, in the English language, this was how it was meant to be.

Flash

I heard something really scary today and suddenly I didn't want to think. My mind darted to and fro, back and forth, refusing to linger for more than a moment, and then suddenly it stopped. Void. Bewildered.

Lord, make no bad happen. And so I proclaim in Jesus' name.

Amen.