next destinations

where's the next place? we keep wanting to move, wanting a fresh start. we are bored.
are we bored of the place , sick of repetitive routine, or simply bored of ourselves - as Ron puts it...

Somewhere in the world we may set out feet upon, the beautiful fresh scent first charms us, lure us and then in time becomes normal, and we want to set out for more.

this more and wanting. seems lethal, addictive enough to make u kill for more... displacement of oportunity costs, values, and even responsibility. To want to set off, set free, into nothing...

Melodrama. Or revelation?

Welcome Happy New Year

Welcome to the new year. New ambitions, new hopes and new resolutions. Well, what's new?

2005 passed in a flash, but not without a trace. Loads of memories to stick with a long time to come... Great year I must say. It's never all that pretty and nice, but becos of that, it's perfect.
I've done a first travel alone in India, first breath of tank air in Koh Phi Phi, first time in a job more than 6 months in Tuas, first time sharing a bottle of wine between 2 and going for more, first camera, first time riding scooter, first zouk out, first ferry corsten, first love.

First understanding of love. First feeling of freedom and peace, first scent of tranquility. First light. There's a hippie in all of us.

Bin says that he feels year 2006 is going to be a good year for all of us. That intense positivity is lovely.

Sing to the Dawn

Finally learned to sing the song by Jolin, Dao Dai.

Always found it nice, never actually sung it til last mon'.

Haven't been to KTV for such a long time I dun remember the last KTV I went to. Monday @ KTV brought back memories of Hongkong and I've forgotten about singing altogether.

Too much drinking, seems to loose chunks of memory and get more absent minded these days. Also a perpetual numb, hung over feeling...

Or you could call it peace, just like the afterglow of smoking, the aftermess of drunkardness.

Some people believe that they will never loose themselves no matter how drunk they are. Some people fear that and stay sober. And most of the happy others would have lost at least one item of possession, left it somewhere, or kissed someone. And the feeling of waking up to a realisation, is what I appreciate, a moment of clarity, mixed with a splitting headache. (think we really could do without the headache)

Dancing in the Moonlight.

Was at my Grandma's place for a dinner. They call it the Dong Ji, End of winter dinner with family. (or that's at least the best I could with the translation)

everything usual, and normal. On my way back, my father, my mum and me took the taxi and was looking forward to get home to our comfort couch at home. The taxi lady was a woman, in her forty's. But you could still see the afterglow from her younger days...

they started toking, as always. I am amazed how out of 5 times I took a taxi with my dad in it, 5 times everytime, he'd chat with the driver in very intense conversation all the journey. this connection that they apparently left me out of.

They toked about their childhood, how life was so carefree and happy in the "Silat Road" days, in Kampong, how they'd jump into the canals for a swim. How life was so tough, so simple, and yet so lived in. Everybody in the neighbourhood knew each other. It wasn't a story of wealth and richness, no "atas" living. Yet every penny spent at the least of things were all worth the spending.

Now, I hardly know my neighbours. All doors are shut most of the time, either that or I am not at home.

My dad had recently recollect his younger days, the trauma of having lost both his parents in 2 consecutive years, and the heavy burden and responsibility of 8 other sibligs to take care of. Drama-Mama galore you must be thinking. But you know with the post war baby boom. This was the real situation of our parents' decade and era.

I can't help but question the only question, why then and why now. Why did the attitude, the experiences, the stories, differ so much, yet the path of life is similar and also very different. It's oxymoronic. It's life an nature, cyclic and linear all at once.

Pweef...

Love, Bread and Soup

Someday, it feels that deep within is a longing for the ultimate person that is perfect, to appear in my life. This perfect guy/perfect feeling. Some people say it's a farce. Some continue to believe in it and have repeatedly fallen in and out of it... and then recover to get in all over again... well I don't know much.

I've also felt this perfect feeling with certain people before. With some friends, almost more than pefect. Hence if exprience defines our truth, then you can't really say the perfect situation to be a projection of non-reality. But we also know the very next truth that it always changes and nothing could ever stay the same, such that when finding, not only that one does not find, but also gets trapped in the endless search of what was merely an empty mould of the past.