go czech republic!

all the way now!

broken telephone.

at the mrt station today, while in the atm machine queue, i couldn't help but overhear an elderly lady at the payphone booths nearby.

after a longish pause. "hello?" she said, "hello! i'm so sorry! i don't know what happened! the line just got cut off all of a sudden. i think i can only talk for a few minutes if i put in only ten cents. yes, yes. no, i put in ten cents. i think after a few minutes it will cut off automatically. ah, yes. yes. it just got cut off like that! there was no warning!"

she laughed.

"good thing i had another ten cents in my purse. yes, but i think it's my last-"

another longish pause.

"hello?"

***

in other news, i could kiss teo chee hean on the lips (if only for a dare). thank you mindef and pap and whoever else is responsible! i don't have to spend a college summer back here serving anymore! oh joy!

professor n's theory of sports income.

just the other day, we were discussing the fact that a large number of indians support liverpool football club. according to him, liverpool has been sustained financially by the immense revenues generated from south east asians, especially by singaporeans. and what exactly is professor n's theory?

for every roti prata we buy, ten cents goes to liverpool's coffers.

the whites.

it's hard to believe that leeds united will be playing in division one next season, a fact made all the more unbelievable when one considers where this team has been in recent years and the quality of players it possessed. the semi-finals of the champion's league and premier league title contenders for consecutive seasons (only to be disappointed at the end by lack of experience). at one point in time, the squad had this as a potential starting eleven:

gk:
nigel martyn (now at everton)

def:
ian harte
jonathan woodgate (now at newcastle united)
rio ferdinand (now at manchester united)
danny mills (loaned to middlesbrough) / gary kelly

mid:
harry kewell (now at liverpool)
olivier dacourt (now at roma)
david batty
lee bowyer (now at newcastle united)

att:
robbie keane (now at tottenham)
mark viduka

financial mismanagement, inexperience, over-ambition.. whatever it is, it eventually caused the downfall of the club that won the premier league back in 1992. those issues have been dealt with now with the arrival of professor mckenzie as chairman, kevin blackwell as manager and the grim prospect of playing in division one for at least a year or two. one day we'll see leeds united back in the premier league, where it rightfully belongs, i'm sure of that.

gifts.

god is not always the shield that protects us, but the steel out of which we make it. those are the times he presents us with the acute awareness of our talents, opportunities and willingness to help ourselves. he too values his humility.

a simple matter of.

my sense of what is right (arbitrary as it may seem) is my only saving grace sometimes.

airborne.

faith is like skydiving. it's entrusting your life and everything of yours to something you can't see.

between.

i find it hard to accept differences between people, or rather, the idea of such a thing. it bothers me when people disagree even though disagreements are a part of any relationship. at times i feel like giving in to whatever it is that one prefers because i'm honestly okay with most things. seeing some content, comfortable or pleased means more to me than whatever it is that i could have had. no, i'm not compromising on my personality or character. it's just that i'm not defined by such things. i choose not to be.

sms.

a message from a fellow national serviceman yesterday:

m: hey man. u interested in going australia? my friend has a place there.
me: like visiting or running away?

clocks.

good friends, to me, are somewhat like grandfather clocks.

you sometimes wonder what makes them tick.
you wind them up occasionally.
they always have time for you.
they're priceless.

and as long as you do your bit now and then,
they're amazingly reliable.

sandakan threnody.

a theatreworks production in collaboration with artists from thailand, australia and japan. it's based on asian journals and prisoner-of-war letters from world war two. i'm catching it next week (eighteenth)with some friends. if you're interested in joining us, let me know. tickets aren't a stretch at twenty-two dollars a pop. any takers?

turning brown.

i'll be heading to rhode island come next september, and i still can't really believe it. the thought of college years is always somewhere in the back of mind. people, places, providence, the memories of them to be made; it's like a dream, really. and i feel blessed to be living it.

in prayer.

i do not understand you. i chose the words i hear from your voice. i respond only to those which give me comfort. we speak different languages. hope is your language. i speak the language of quiet resignation. we are desperate souls living in desperate times. we were once family. now we are a thousand tribes of arrogance. i look to our past and pray, that one day i will understand.

here i am, in prayer;
kneeling before the ruins of the tower of babel.

which is better?

autumn or spring?

from any point of view:
their natural sights;
their beauty;
their symbolism;
their appeal;
their influence;
their effect on you.

the fine print.

ladies and gentleman, a bit about blogs.

nearly two years into this business of blogging, i've come to realise some things about blogs, blogging and bloggers. i'll share what i can think of now (and i will quite possibly add to it later), but if you'd like to contribute, then by all means, please do.

first of all, a word of caution to those of you who wish to start a blog sometime. do not for one moment think that there is such a thing as a private blog. the internet, inherently, was created to share information, not to store it conveniently. to quote some literature on the origin of the internet: "rather, it is asserted, the purpose of the arpanet was to interconnect computers at various research /education facilities so as to allow researchers to share resources." there shouldn't be any privacy on the internet. by creating a blog, the potential is created for your thoughts to be exposed to any person who as access to the internet and who may stumble upon your blog. accept this fact, and write and publish accordingly. strangers will read your blog. people you dislike will read your blog. don't complain when it happens.

it's okay to write to please your audience. do not, however, change yourself or your writing style to please anyone.

do not get angry when people make stupid comments that show how little they really know about you. there are people who can form opinions faster than you can open your mouth, so just bear with them. as i said before, everyone has the right to see your blog, and everyone includes the hormonally charged, the socially inept and the chemically imbalanced. be firm, but polite. if all else fails, as my mother used to say: "the best way to make an annoying person go away is to ignore them." annoying people feed off annoyance. watch, listen and learn.

do not blog song lyrics all the time.

writing may be cathartic, but that doesn't mean diarrhoetic. if you're going to talk about your day, unless a startling number of interesting things happened during the course of it, it would be best to keep such entries short and sweet. rambling is a habit many of us are guilty of, myself included, but overdoing it can easily be avoided.

variety. variety. variety. (isn't that boring?) the best bloggers, myself not included, know how to mix it up really well. it's never the same old kind of entry, and there's always something exciting for readers to look forward to.

ask your friends if they want to be on your list of links. you never know. some people just don't want to be associated with you.

once every 6 months, take a look into your archives. you'll be surprised at the number of comments you missed or that were made recently.

www.blogpsot.com really exists. it's a christian links site that ensnares people who make typos. believe it, or not.

your blog is not your mind. do not confuse the two. if even your parents can find your diary and read it, it won't take that much longer for people who have the world's most powerful search engine at their fingertips to find your blog. do not write everything you think about because we think of some really nasty things sometimes. it's better that most people don't have access to these thoughts. worse than telling someone that they're ugly is putting it down in black and white, for all the world to see. do not criticize people you live with. do not mock your friends' friends. if you don't know which thoughts are good and which are bad, then don't blog.

three years, two months and one great friend.

it's amazing how we can look back on memories so simple and unadorned and have them evoke a smile. there're no feeling attached to these memories and we can just cherish them for what they are to us. i've rediscovered a friend these last few weeks and that means alot to me. i wrote these years ago, and dedicated them to her as a way of preserving those memories. thank you for them.

for j, part one

it’s the lonely lost who cry for tears of melancholy.
joy escapes your grasp and spirals down aimlessly.
what words can save a soul that listens with its heart?
blind to hate, i pity you for being so easily torn apart.
something inside is dying to shine out through you,
but it will fade away someday, these things always do.
hope is something you have no patience in you to feel,
and i understand what it’s like to be down on your knees.
i’d take you away to somewhere quiet, if i could,
and i’d sit you down and treat you like the world should.
in my eyes, you’re worth so much, but you don’t realise,
and if only you did, you’d live a life anyone would despise.
it’s in those dreamy eyes i lose myself and drown,
what’s to keep me alive if i’m never again found?
you don’t feel the things i feel, and i wish you would,
overwhelmed, anything you do would do me no good.
everytime i look at you, something in me just shatters,
to have you so close and not aware, nothing else matters.
i feel a warmth in me i felt once before, long ago,
in a paradise i sought a saviour, and all i found was woe.
now before me i find an angel in disguise once again,
and she smiles at a souless man and some things never change.

i fall.


for j, part two

forgive me if i say that i think you’re beautiful,
it’s but a compliment, and all i can offer you,
for you’ve taken my breath without saying a word,
and to have it back, i’d give you the world.
you look up and break into a weak grin at me,
you’re indescribable, and i’ve never been so lucky,
that glimmer in your eye takes me far away,
to a place i’ve never been and i’d like to stay.
i whisper cold, white flakes of life to you now,
and with a touch you make ny words warm, somehow.
i can’t explain the way you make me feel inside,
it’s beyond words, logic and the faith i thought had died.
i believe in your feathery wings now, dear angel,
believe again; i did that when we met as strangers.
i’d never regret anything we’d ever share together,
and i’ll never forget you, my angel.... never.


for j, part three

fair maiden, i’d never say that i’ve known you for all eternity,
that’s wrong; it’s only been days since you swept me off my feet.
your feminine mystery is concealed well within those eyes,
i’ll never discover it, lost as i am in the space they occupy.
you needn’t say a word and you can brighten up my day,
your smile is addictive, and beautiful in it’s own special way.
that’s what you are; a lovely wallflower without a name,
that i’ve never known you before this, it’s a crying shame.
you walked into my life, and took me away from here,
you’ve my thanks for showing me a life lived without fear,
for warming a soul that’d gone cold from sleepless nights,
and for being there when i was afraid that noone might.
fair maiden, forgive me if what i say makes no sense to you,
it’s easy for a man in love like me to know not what i do.