Youngest kid of six with an inferiority and black sheep complex, but determined that God saves not just his soul to heaven but the remainder of his manic-depressive life, so others won't say he became a Christian and remained a jerk.
i won't be transparent before i'm opaque. and you'll get to know me starting from the small things: who my favourite bands are. what kind of movies i like. who are my heroes.
I’m convinced that when confronted with sincere, real love, the Jesus factor will become obvious. But let’s not plant the cross before we carry it. I’m not trying to con you.
Some dreams are meant to be achieved. I know that. But maybe other dreams are meant to drive us, privately. Never known to anyone but ourselves.
It is a sadness that, when choosing between crying and sighing, will choose sighing. I'd almost say that melancholy is being sad about sadness itself.
On memory and nostalgia
It saddens me when life moves forward and people decide that certain things are worth forgetting.
I've learnt that the word irregardless is filed as a non-standard word in the English language. That's a lexicographer's way of saying it's not a real word.
Crowds are fickle things. So when we stand in the thousands and cry against the present government, do we know who we're actually crying for?
People always want the best for themselves. But I want to sometimes take second or third or fourth best, just so that the loser down the road doesn't always have to come in last. It must feel like shit to always come in last.
On growing old
Leasehold property make me feel sad. It doesn't matter how old the family photos are that you put on your wall. It's your family but it's not really your wall.
I ask you, if God loves everyone, and if God is also incapable of loving evil, how can there be such a thing as an evil man?
On a daily basis
One line quips, like this.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
For some reason, i had to come into to work at ten pm tonight, and stay here for goodness knows how many hours till i've either done enough work or chalked up enough hours for the books. now, i don't mind working late - seeing as i don't make it a habit, it's not that bad. i also don't mind putting in the hours - it's necessary, and doing so with no one else in the office just means that it's easier to concentrate. what i do mind, however, is the driving.
i've grown more and more impatient with the LDP. it's got to be the ugliest stretch of highway anywhere on the face of greater KL. in the day, the buildings along it look drab and miserable. the malls look somewhat trashy and there's always a jam somewhere near kelana jaya. it's a thoroughly disgusting journey.
but that's in the day, anytime near peak hour. driving in at ten pm, you'd forgive me for thinking that i'd have a better time. and it actually was better. still, the highway managed to get the better of me.
when i was growing up, i remember listening to this dolly parton song that goes "the bright lights of the city / are a pretty sight to see / perhaps they're extra pretty / to a country girl like me". the song goes on to talk about how lonely and cruel the city is, and how she feels lost, and she asks her "mamma" to say an extra prayer for her. know that one?
well, driving down to cyberjaya tonight made me think of that song. the buildings along the LDP looked distinctly foreign tonight, and they felt cold and strange. not strange in a weird sense, but strange in a "stranger" sense - they just felt foreign. and as i drove, i felt like i was so far from home.
at that point, i don't even know if the home i felt far from was my bachelor pad, my family in gasing, or even my hometown. and in a way, it didn't matter. i was so far from them all. i felt like a nobody driving into the nevada desert and finding vegas, except that my vegas is the non-nocturnal desolation of cyberjaya.
and right now, as i bang away a blog while i ought to be finishing up my work (fancy going home at 2am, don't i?), i feel so lost in this big, almost bad, world. this whole young working person's existence feels so damn lonely.
Labels: loneliness, melancholy, memory and nostalgia
11:26 pm ]