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.
Friday, February 23, 2007
HOME AND LEAVING
Today, i leave muar to head back again.
i don't know how you feel about your hometown, but i love mine. it's changed alot in the nine years since i left, first for the bright lights of melbourne and then for the madness that is KL. i feel sad whenever i leave muar. it reminds me that with each passing year, i'm leaving a part of my childhood behind, to move on without me. and in this, i too am moving on, without it.
this chinese new year, i didn't meet my old friends - not even one. i didn't bother because our reunions always gravitate around a gambling table, with drinking and small-talk the auxillary features. i could have, i guess. i had all the numbers in my phone. and if i met them, i could have kept in step with all their changes: of jobs, marital status, looks, scenes, gossip. but that didn't matter much to me. instead, i spent most of my time at home. and in the little time i spent outside, i preferred to inspect the changes in my town: its storefronts, the new shops and new houses, the redirection of its one-way streets, and the unstoppable dilapidation of some places that will never go away. the neighbourhood provision shop just got some new owners. but it still looks the same from outside. i need the comfort of knowing that some things just don't change.
this year, i didn't bother playing catch-up with my old friends. those guys are fine without me. and though muar seems to be doing no worse, i can't say the same for myself. and i'm definitely not fine without muar.
Labels: friendship, melancholy, memory and nostalgia
3:16 pm ]