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, March 16, 2007
"Change is the only constant lah!", charlotte said as i quietly contemplated news of one of my favourite editors leaving the office in sydney.
"I can't live in a life like that. you know", i said back to her. "i can't live in a life where everything keeps changing".
i just can't. it saddens me too much to consider a life that is constantly in flux, forever renewing, eternally pursuing the next better thing. why do we do that? keep changing.
i'm really happy for my editor in sydney. she's getting what looks like a really ace job. and fair game to anyone who's getting good gigs lined up for them. some people will say that i've got a pretty good gig lined up myself, and that'd be true. but i just don't take to change so well after all. a few weeks ago, adrian asked me if i was someone who took to change well. at that time, i told him i get excited with change. and while that is true, i can't shake off this insecurity that's tailing me everywhere now that what looked like my golden season in my present office seems to have come to an end.
my lunch squad is dissolving. my favourite product was axed. i've changed seats so many times and i don't know anyone's face in this office anymore. some days i think i'm doing okay but if i really face up to it, i think i can say for certain that my happiest days in this office are behind me now. maybe another chapter has closed and i'm just not dealing with the fact that i'm smack in page two of the next storyline. maybe i'm mistaken in my assurance of where i think i am. people around me are moving on.
why am i still here?
when will i pick my bags up and get out of this one, very long airport holiday? you know when you're in transit, the airport bookstores become your best friend. there's something familiar in all bookstores: road maps, travel guide books, coffee table pictorials... there's something reassuring about seeing all these same things no matter which airport bookstore in whatever country you're in.
but my transit is not in an airport and there is no bookstore with all that familiar paraphernalia to remind me that some things always stay the same.
Labels: growing old, identity, melancholy
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