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.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
CREATURE OF HABIT
Repetition. predictability. routine.
loop. loop. loop. loop. loop. i do the same things over again.
that's the thing about creatures of habit. i'm quite happy to walk into mcdonald's and every time, without fail, order myself a big mac. there's a new carl's jr in one utama. i've been there twice now. had the same burger on both occasions.
there's that side of me that will stick to familiar ground and keep going back to what i know are the surefire winners. i am comfortable like that. i don't find the need to constantly explore new ground and i'm not the kinda guy who needs to try everything at a buffet. once i latch on to something i like, i'm usually hooked.
but that could be changing. there's another side of me, a side that's impulsive, that longs for the thrill of the unknown. i have always been bipolar and this is another expression of it. whenever i'm not ordering the same burger for the thousandth time, i'm pulling up at the first restaurant round the bend and going in without thinking.
sometimes, we think it's good if people can predict how we choose things: i know he'll like this, i bet she'll love that. and while the predictable side of me is the side that often receives gifts, it is the unpredictable side of me that wants to pour out.
there is an adventure i want to go on. a wild transcontinental plough through the slums, wilderness and desolation of the world. i want to experience cultures, behaviours, languages, food, music and art. i want to stand in rainstorms, snowstorms and sandstorms. taste the awe of rural landscapes and drink the sadness of urban poverty. i want this adventure to take me where the comfort of a formulaic burger recipe has never taken me. i want to trek the unmapped, ride danger and rush along to an excitement that bubbles over.
i will always be a creature of particularly simple habits, revelling in the joys of the same thing done right the same way. but this adventure, this seductive lure for the great uncharted, i can almost audbibly hear it call.
and God only knows what lies in store.
9:24 am ]