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, February 20, 2007
THE COST OF ADULTHOOD
Chinese New Year is happening again. This year, it crept up from close to nowhere and suddenly, it's the third day and i'm staring a return to KL as imminently as my impending deadlines, both office and movie, loom towards me. and now i know something. Chinese new year used to be fun because as kids you could enjoy it for what it was.
sure, you had school looming on the horizon as well, but school rarely ever crept into the holidays. and even if it did, cos there's always that breed of sadistic teachers who give tons of homework whenever kids get a sniff of a holiday, that's all it was. work. but i find that as i grow up, it gets harder and more complicated to draw the line where the responsibilities of day-to-day life ends and where festivities begin. and i realise now that's why adults don't enjoy chinese new year as much as kids do. it's not really because they loose interest in fireworks, or that it just mythically "used to be more fun", it's squarely because the line between duty and fun is blurred.
i've been trying very hard to grow up these past two years. but all that growing up had a cost attached to it, and this was it. this was the cost and i think i've been paying so many part instalments, the whole ferari's almost mine now. and so this is it, huh. i've traded off simple joy for complicated adult bullshit.
what a deal.
Labels: growing old
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