Me first.

专献于淑惠：

So you meet a girl (or a guy if you’re a girl or if you happen to be gay). So she’s funny. So she speaks Chinese and English, well. So she is intellectually stimulating. So she’s really really hot! So she has similar experiences and viewpoints as you. So she just about fits your list of a perfect woman! WTF do you do?

You’re about to leave, for a better opportunity and a better world. What do you do? Your destination is half way across the globe, with a time difference of 12 hours. Not too big a difference? Nope, not if you don’t consider the fact that there are only 24 hours in a day.
Basics such as talking, seeing face to face, touching (mind you, with respect!), listening and feeling are not to be taken for granted anymore. The value of such simple gestures of communication will be magnified ten folds, for you only learn to appreciate after you have lost what you have lost, no?

They say the essence of a relationship lies in sharing every detail of your life, but where do you start from when you can only call like once a week and see her through the lens of your webcam? What less is to be expected when you talk once a week, but a smile on the face; regardless of whether gastric or cramps have been your mate weeklong, or work stress and continuous harassment from idiotic friends have been the only topic in mind? How do you express that one week’s worth of sadness and worries in a half-hour conversation, at best? For logistics, how do you possibly clear a week’s worth of backlogged shipments when the customs are only open half an hour a week?

Then again, when her car breaks down, when her dog has run away, when she just needs a hearing ear or a crying shoulder, what do she? Call and wake you up as it’s three in the morning? Or snap a picture of herself crying by the roadside and send it to you, in hope you’ll understand? The excitement of the Golden Goal can only be felt if you’re right there in the stadium. The eclectic crowd, the soaring headlamps and the jubilant fans – PRICELESS yet indescribable. Been there, done that, they say; but what when you ain’t there?

What when you just dig older chicks, who’ve been through a lot and dun fret over ciku issues? You’re going through the third phase of life – college, she’s fighting to build her career. When you enter the same phase as her, a minimum of three years later, you are all coiled to launch your career, so you’re on par with her, no? No, cause she’ll be looking at marriage then. Now, you can’t possibly buy a house, a vehicle (land or air, hmm, dwell there later), go on honeymoon and build a family on credit debts now, can you?

Best of all, what if she finds a better man here? (Not that you think that there’s another man better than you, but it’s her perception that matters, not yours, no? She wait for an unpolished star in the sky, or she take the gleaming diamond there on the floor?

What was the question again? Oh. WTF do you do?

You put her name on a list. Schindler had his list, the dean has a list, so you can also keep a list. It’s a list that will not be active for many years, but when the moment comes, and if she ain’t taken yet (not because she ain’t good, but cause the other men are blind, much to your delight!), you DO something about it. But for the moment, spoil not what you have high hopes for. For if Murphy is right, if something should happen, it will. After all, an unfulfilled promise is much more promising than a broken one, no?

BTW, I LOVE YOU.
AMA!

joy, OVERRATED.

Smile, greet, shake hands, be warm…. That is one mask for the morning and for the sociable community to see. But, when doors are closed and drapes are drawn, the facial muscles no longer twitch. The curve of the lips upwards is no more. It actually takes an effort to smile and for the eyes to glitter. But put aside the pretentiousness and energy and return to the natural state of being, which way do the lips curve? Up, down or remain a tight, wry line?

The state of tiredness remains constant. Perhaps, the heart feels burdened by the world’s wars, assassinations and economic status. Perhaps, the lifestyle of an owl should remain that of an owl, not to be imitated by any other beings, not least the weakest of all beings, the homos. Why so, if it is so natural to feel tired, as is evident among the passengers of the morning train and evening bus, is it looked up upon that we must be energetic and full of the will and motivation to go? Ain’t it true that too much shit weighs down on our shoulders? Ain’t it true that without money, you save and look for it constantly; but when you got cash, you seek to safeguard and invest it. This life is just too friggin’ hard, so why does society make it harder by expecting us to be not who we be? We’re tired, that’s why caffeine reigns! So why must we still show an outward expression which totally opposes our inner feelings?

The state of emo-ness leaves me more grounded. I know not any other feeling that feels more like home. The funny joke doesn’t make me laugh the whole night. That wonderful shopping trip doesn’t give me the satisfaction the whole week. The great sales further enhances my fatigue. I am but more comfortable with the melancholic Evanescence or screaming Eminem. I am in a constant state of fatigue, due to financial, political, work and social issues, but mostly because of the constant battle of mind and body. The body demands rest, but the mind wants to go another mile, read another book, write another post, type another e-mail……

Somehow, the constant quest for the ultimate goal saps me of every sliver of energy, be it my sales target, my community work or my education pursues, so why does the same society that took so much from me request even more of me, that I am to feel as bright and as eager as the sun?

I am in a constant mood of feeling that I have under-achieved. I have but one year of school fees; so I’ll work and study hard. I am number one in class; my class is the third class in that form. I have been a sergeant longer than a private; I am not the highest number of awards achiever. I am not satisfied. In fact, I will never be, I guess. The heart of the eagle in my hand was only captured after months of pursuit, but the sparrow above my head looks way more enticing, all because I haven’t got it yet. So how could I possibly smile and relax? Not a moment is to be lost, lest I rest on my laurels and flab gathers around my waist.

But the way you behave and think somehow shapes your features… So screw my features. I do not care if my hair is not combed when I step out, for I have better things to worry about. I doubt E=mc2 would exist if Einstein had greased his hair every time he went to his lab. So I do not clean my room; I know where my stuff is and I can navigate through my stuff. So I talk fast and snap when I think your ideas are dumb; my time on earth is short and I ain’t got patience to wait for you to catch up.

Laughter is the best medicine… Please, laugh and AIDS won’t attack you. Laugh and you can smoke as much as you want without worrying about lung cancer. Just laugh!

I am but human, and that means a multitude of things. I am a part of the human society, hence I am obligated to conform to the norm of society. But then again, I am an individual being, for should my heart stop, your heart cannot possibly pump for me. I cannot kill and expect my mother to be hung for me. I am I, ME and MYSELF. Hence, don’t tell me which way my lips should curve, lest you are willing to pay my bills, face my shit and shoulder my weight.