: )

the expression is recognised but the emotion is but a mystery. a void waiting to be drowned with assumptions (a.k.a: mother of all cock-ups.)

Hahaha, now my laugh emanates more bitterness than usual, because at one point of today, i smile, blacking out from the world, because you 'replied'. Ahak.. what has this made me, im sorry.
I shouldnt have
I shouldnt be
I am not worthy.

i was expecting this but i guess my hopeless romanticism surpassed the limits of my expectations, in relation to this matter. Fantasy, a relatively short distraction. Butterflies, their wings no longer rub against the lining of my stomach, have lifespans of only 20-40 days, affirming the fact that fantasy is always short lived.




And i wonder why its so hard for people to get used to me not smiling.
im just not a happy person. im a very tired person.

Smile for me. in person.
Pahlawan Putih

Sleepy

My eyes were ready to recuperate during the 8 hours of sleep i was planning/dreaming/wishing/hoping to have. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, a he showed a sign. Thus i am awake, my body entertaining the adrednaline that is flooding my blood stream. Thanks.

Its amazing how the intervention mentioned is still in activation. I tried to get the tickets from the Centrepoint but i was politely denied of my ticket as the printer still holds a grudge on me. Apparently all the printers were informed and are holding grudges. I cannot believe it is island wide. The company should just have used sistic instead.
The play?

Five Top Singapore Playwrights Unite


Featuring brand new plays to be performed back to back, all in one night, Confessions of 300 Unmarried Men is inspired by true stories and real-life characters.

Watch out for world premieres of latest works by five of Singapore’s most celebrated playwrights including Alfian Sa'at, Desmond Sim, Tan Tarn How, Eleanor Wong and Ovidia Yu.
There will also be a special segment entitled Because…, created using results from a nation-wide poll of unmarried men in Singapore, plus a number of exciting audience interactive features.

-A play with 5 playwrights, each with their own style, own ideas / ideals. It would definately be more than an eye-opener (a mind opener?). Inspiration maybe?

Anyway just to update while i can, im working on sunday and monday. Working at changi selling foodstuff, with Raihana's family business. Dont drop by cos i'll be a mess. i got alot to do but im not doing it yet

hahaha
today was definately fun.
Earthquake(swensons), pizza hut, ps, esplanade outdoor theatre, chinese new year bazaar thing, coffee bean clark quay and the end.
I had fun laughing, although its attempts to banish my lethargy was futile.

see before that i had a Pantun workshop, an introduction to the PESTA PANTUN organised by PBMUKS, malay language club of NUS, and a short clarification. I m very nervous and afraid, although we declared that the main aim was just to have fun, the state of our reputation is within shooting range. And i really dont know how to get through. sigh.

Dan kini ku terkenang, dan berangan
andai ni riwayat kekalan sepanjang zaman

Irfan : )
Pahlawan Putih

Its Everywhere.


(Sir i do not know you personally to call you by your name.)

Sir,
you may have dropped something
and I have stumbled upon it
by coincidence
(Only by coincidence)
I apologise for the initiation of those questions
taking shape in anxiety
materialising in your thoughts
in wait
for an answer for which to ponder.

Sir,
I may have invaded your privacy
judged on your personality
from the way you smile
to that glint in you eyes
I am sorry
I shouldn’t have
I shouldn’t be

Sir,
then I realised there was more to it
your literary compositions
which aroused me
see I find wisdom sexy
and also
that spark of rebellion
in every word formation
but…
it was apparently nothing new
it was already worshipped by a few
I felt like just another fish in the sea
no chance for ‘us' to be

Sir,
first I stumbled
now I've fallen
moving on
to forget that patch of grass I landed on
and wash the soils on my jeans
to bleach the milliseconds of embarrassment
so that the naked eye could not identify
what made the weak heart go wild

But Sir,
your smile…
that almost trademarked pout
that cringe of the cheek muscle
that glint in your eyes
(all from the arrangement of pixels n my computer screen)

Sir,
I know it will never be
its just to cure my curiosity
to settle the tinge of optimism
deeply embedded within me
to know if this confession will do anything

But,
I know I am just another admirer
a dreamer
judging a book by its cover
hoping for an answer
from someone who might not bother

for I am just an admirer
seeking solace from another…

PS: you can't take back what i found.

-Anonymous



sometimes, people are too busy admiring the brightest star in their eyes that they dont notice the one that is shining just for them..

and their passing glance is a hope to this small star that it might just get noticed, but their glance never linger..

-Aida



Almost inevitable, the way those arrows pierce the vunerable heart.
An infactuation is almost like walking, but not being able to see or feel your legs. Somehow you just keep on moving, destination set, the journey however is as if moving in unchartered territory. And all of a sudden, you find yourself trapped under the surface of a water body. Thinking how almost pleasurable it was during the short period you were sinking. So pleasurable that you didnt notice it would harm you more at the end of it all.

I still did not get the ticket. Ticket charge is so f up.
Maybe it was meant to be this way. The divine intervention to save me from sinking any further€



This silence
i hear loud and clear
almost deafening
as if my ear drums might tear
due to the longing it has
to be an audience to your whispers

However, i cant suppress the optimism mentioned
that miniscule ray of hope in this condemned fantasy
that trace of warmness that exudes from your replies

Patience has nothing to do with it anymore
false hopes still dwell in the depths
questions only i am capable of answering
(on your behalf)
to calm these torrent waves crashing in my stomach

oh, my curiosity seems to have made its mind
but i guess you have not
i guess,
i will wait

all i ask, is i hear it from you
Pahlawan Putih

To her


moga malang tak kunjung tiba
agar hati tenteram, menjunjung ria
Pahlawan Putih

Smile

I should smile more.

just like that

i tried buying tickets for a play yesterday. The printing machine refused to spit ink onto the retangular card paper joined together by perforated ends. I keep thinking its a sign. Not to pursue this fantasy any longer.
I cant help but be persistent.
Centrepoint tomorrow after my appoinment at CGH.

blabbering baboon. stuttering stork?
Pahlawan Putih

Overload

Get ready for one.

First up, Urban Faces.
I am upset that the pageant leaned more on the basis of popularity and supporters, in terms of audience voting system, than actual beauty, not that i have any. It was too my disadvantage as i wasnt as popular as the rest, who were backed up by their large CCA groups that came and voted, and that many who knew me just were not there.
I guess the most excruciating part was how the pageant had surfaced skin-deep insecurities i had within myself - shortly after being shortlisted, only to find out that i have let my guard down and be bathed in humiliation, in vunerability, because my score board had more board then scores.
After the first day, i let out a bitter laugh and accepted the fact that i will never win in a popularity contest. I also got myself mentally prepared for the next round, by stomping all manner of expectations and hopes and just sail through it with a smile, keeping in mind its just for the fun of it.
Then the next round came. Just like a routine i was used to. During the voting session, i didnt even bother to go around asking people i've never met to stick blue stickers on my board. However i collected enough to take them out of the board and be arranged to spell my name. Heh. I wasnt even humiliated anymore. Life is easier when you accept reality.
For those who knew me, and voted for me, thank you so much.



Ahai... semarak buta, engkau tidak kemana. apa benar?
The experience was priceless, and so was the company. 10 more people to smile to as i walk pass them in the flurry of campus life, trying hard to recall their names. Cheers to good sportsmanship.

Next up, MAG's Performances By SNT and PST.
PST. I dont know why, but from the start, i worried about the set's ability to be staged without leaving the audience yawning and possibly also reducing of our spirits and will to perform. 3 songs to choose from. I personally liked the first one. The one laced with the memory of 'defeat'. I wonder why they even bothered giving us choices when 'they' have already decided on the second song. Shy and afraid to disrupt that comfort zone that automatically binds the 'Anything' attitude, i decided to keep mum. To starve myself of an honest opinion. Satisfaction robbed.
And to think i thought it was the composition or arrangement of the the people, taking up their respective roles, that failed to liven up the atmospere, in this complicated art form.
It was so embarassing that i did not acknowledge a dikir barat activist who was there to play audience. Truthfully, im ashamed. truthfully, i have no solution for it.
Our spirit has been muffled. Muffled beyond comprehension. Muffled by a force waiting to be identified. Its time for change. Its time to clean the cobwebs and replace the flickering light bulb.
Our reputation is at stake.


For all that it's worth

SNT
My love affair.
The reason people question my loyalty.
The reason for great opportunity, for photography.
The reason carpets are littered with glitter.
The reason i questioned my significance (and contributions? sacrificial actions? if any)









I managed to capture some interesting human emotions from the dancers.
Both represent that moment in time where the subconcious mind takes over, for a rest from the plasticity of the stage smile, in a display of worries that might have clouded their mind with each step they execute and the next they try to recall.

Here you see lina, choreographer, resting, waiting for her next dance step. Letting lethargy set in. Allowing worry to distort her eyebrows slightly. Ushering numbers to dance in her head, as she wait. and worry.


in this photo, we see dee removed of her stage smile. removed of her temporary happiness. reduced to being troubled by some that hangs only in her head, and not for the audience to see. a confession stubbornly clinging to her buccal cavity, never wanting to escape those pursed lips.


Although this was posed, it still has the ability to stir a few emotion that we constantly play in our hearts.
Concept: Aida. Artistic Direction and Photography: Irfan. -ceh ceh ceh

Overloading,
underpressure
Pahlawan Putih

Open House

I know its abit too late but...


Come down for TP's open house. Support MAG. Go for our performances. And dont laugh at the President who has to catwalk for TP's Urban Faces Segment. This would be interesting. not to mention embarassing.

Ku serahkan segalanya
bagaikan ibadah
agar tidak lenyap irama
paluan budaya gagah

Dampingilah ku, wahai semarak buta
Pahlawan Putih

Hopeless

They closed down the Vietnamese Beef noodles stall at Parkway Parade Banquet. Darah up sark. Where the hell am i supposed to find an antidote capable of suppressing my innermost beef noodles desire? Maybe i should ask Dina, she should know...
Thaksin's Beef noodles, S11 opposite polyclinic, has an aquired taste. One which im lacking of. heh.

I manage to complete my fitness report. wanna have a look?

Guess who decided to follow the programme.
Guess who is aching from shoulder to toe.

I was quite suprised my asthma acted up again. It began with a burning sensation on my lung passages. felt as if sparks would fly out everytime i exhaled. I managed to only jog around 1km or so. How kental. Then i gave up cos i forgot to bring my inhaler with me. However, i took the stairs to the tenth floor. Considered progress lah. I could continue complaining about how unfit im and how i cant even do one pull-up but i rather continue studying for my Health and Wellness test later on at 3.

wish me luck!
Pahlawan Putih

Muted

Precipitously, i lost the will to write, even though my brain a churning up a few good ideas, after all that verbal diahoerria. Here are pictures i didnt manage to post, to keep myself entertained...

i submited photos for Click! 2006, a photo competition opened to TP student. I must say i dont think i have a chance.. heh. so much for 3rd last year.

Lights
Lights usually come on after the sun sets which brings forth darkness. Taken during dusk this picture is to show how man made lights pale to the versatility of the sun. The row of lights linear to the Singapore river and the tiny lights on the tugboats are definitely dimmer, and less attractive than the vast ilumination of the sun on to the clouds, creating a myriad of amber colours which is also reflected by the water
Used Dee's Camera


Memories
Photos are windows to past memories. It evokes emotions and brings forth nostalgia. In the picture, two girls view memories from the eyes of the photographer, whom had taken pictures of Singapore’s relief effort during the aftermath of the Tsunami in Aceh. In this case, memories from one person can be passed to another person.
Used Khelena


A story
Everything has a story to tell, even animals. Eyes are known to be a vital organ in communication and social connection. In this case, the cats eye has a reflection of its confined state. There is also a tinge of sadness that rains from its eyes.
Used my camera


Lights- failed attempt to capture all colours of the traffic light in one picture. Its all in the timing

After that, i started the Match box Series.






My belated birthday

chocolate pound cake at mcds. thanks dee, ili, amin, sharifah, wawa, faz, yusoff, who were there.

gift- (Leather!) Guy Laroche wallet from aida and dee

Where the hell am i going to find a rich, handsome..(i forgot the other pre-requisites) caucasian boyfriend for her 21st birthday?

Self humiliation

At costume2. (dots...)

Will@TP. Irfan@Dance studio - maked-uped with bruises

Friday 13

1.2..3...*Chekiiit*

InsyaAllah someday the car will actually be moving

Chauffer for the day -hoho.

Had puri set at Sri Sun.

At Habbie after a heart burning, stomach bloating meal. (Cures to my headache, New found Supper Buddies)

My headache acted up again this morning. Lucky for me is still have 1 and a half tablets of Laxothon. The only pill that works.

Anyway, i spent a saturday at home sinking lower into the quicksand of infatuation, being a hopeless romantic and all, putting off my fitness report, craving for either mee bakso or vietnamese beef noodles. shoot.

Andai cinta benar benar tidak kenal rupa
Pahlawan Putih

I den tit y

A few nights ago, i turned on this song(the one probably playing now), taken from The Clay Bird, a film by Tareque Masud. Aida had loaned me the vcd. (Aida pampers too much. heh. will talk about that some other time).

Being an ardent fan of raw traditional culture, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, as the movie showcased quite a few colourful traditions and melodious folk songs (including this one). Anyway my mom heard the song as she was nosey-ly 'cleaning up' the room (more like inspection) and she told me off. See i have always been listening to songs that are unorthodox and beyond society's norm(basically gamelan, folk songs etc). I really dont think she means i should listen to pop and stuff like that but be 'normal'. Normality is so subjective. Whats normal is usually just a standard, frequently with reference to the media, set by society.

She and i knew that it was only partially about the song. She mention something about going against the Quran. Well the story prior to this confrontation was a bit longer. A messy situation actually.

Sometimes we wonder why parents tend to fall into the bottomless pit of assumptions but all is clear when we realise that communication lines are not too well established among parents and offsprings. Will this, parents generally misconceptualise every bit of signal/evidence we leave behind, for their scrutiny either openly or under wraps. Thats how an ink drawing on one's arm, probably done out of boredom, could be mistaken as a tattoo, turning on the natural, built in alarm systems, warning of a possible involvement or association with gangsters.

A bit too much thought put into it yet i dont blame them. what you see in the streets, living proof of walking disasters. Its almost RIGHT to assume the worst. Justifying every askewed misconception your parents have of you.

Maybe it would help to talk it out. Definately an issue that can never be resolved, only minimised.

-------

Today after much deliberation, i decided to go to school, even after doctor chern agreed to extend my MC. Had an important Student Internship Programme (SIP) briefing, at 8am. Yes. What a torture. (Both the fact that SIP is on next sem and that i had to make my way to school before 8am -i was late anyway, as usual.Kena coloured okay.) my choices:
1st Nutrition
2nd Overseas SIP
3rd Food Service/Catering
4th Dietetics
5th Lab Service

well roughly like that. I'm hoping for overseas so it would be a getaway kinda thing. I dunno. i might not get any of my choices looking at my behaviour towards school. - hoho

-------

Everytime i laugh or cough, there would be a sharp jab at the right of my chest. Today i was practically laughing the whole time as i met with my schoolmates like Jas, and Mit who accidently tortured me through comedy. Maybe its also the medicine. Making me feel light and high, and all too giggly.

Nutty Nutmeg Phantasy
Pahlawan Putih

Feeling better

...much better.
The appointment did not go so well. See, I didnt really see the need to come at 9am like the envelope states. I'd prolly have to wait summore, a lesson learnt from previous experience. Didnt bother setting an alarm, i got up at 9.44. Took my time to bathe and get dressed, quick lunch of Cik Tipah's heavenly kek lapis & marble cake, and i was off. Reached the Clinical Measurement Unit at around 10.30. Still in apathetic mode, i went into room no 7, right after a short detour to the gents - stomach upset.
Was greeted by a short, thin, chinese lady, mid 20s, monocled, in a crisp white coat straight bouncy rebonded hair. Yeah... Bouncy - Described her character. Maybe it was a pre-requisite as a lung function technical manager. She really was cut out for her job. heh.. lets just leave it at that.
You should've seen my eyes roll out and pop back in to their sockets when i was shown the 'tax invoice' - chimmified term for bill. $23.50!.. Wow.. just to breathe in and out of a contraption?
Anyway i left CHG, still giddy, heading to Dr Chern's Clinic.

After failed attempts at getting a cure, and realisation that Polyclinic doctors were indeed lazier than private doctors (wawa said so), i decide to try my luck at a, surely more costly, family doctor. Doctor Chern's Clinic is at blk 138, situated somewhere along Tampines st 11. Apparently i've been there since i was only 3 weeks old - after a curious peek at my medical records which stated 30th December 1987 as my earliest visit. The clinic will always be remembered as the clinic with it's signature green brick wall.


Anyway, i had a nice chat with Dr Chern shortly after registration, as there was only one other patient before me, about everything from my course of study and the massive headache.
Dr Chern deduced that my cranial annoyances were due to lack of rest, staying up late and basically stress. I was a bit qualmish at first, denying every bit of truth, that seemed like acid dissolving my ear drums with each word that vibrated through. I mean, i dont consider myself a stressed individual. I would rather be seen upon as a carefree flyer. hoho. But the truth was the truth. and i am myself quite a worrywart.

Back to the giddyness. (I know this is corny the last two times i told two other people but...)I was so re-lax-ed after flushing down Lax-athon, the pill i was given after all the other pain killers didnt seem to have a effect at all. I slept like a baby straight after i got home. With the rain and all.. wooo.. i was cloud 9.

and now im much better. and in the mood for fantasy. just sheer, pointless fantasy. im asking for trouble. really asking for it. hell.. at least the butterflies in my stomach keeps me entertained.

though i try to hide it, its clear
Pahlawan Putih

my condition has worsen. my headache giganomous. been vomitting lots that i try to eat. im currently typing with much difficulty. almost like i might puke on to the keyboard anytime Im due for a lung function test tmr. no school again - yes im worried about my studies.
anw... i might just visit A & E to try and get a cure for this headache. i mean... what does it take to cure a headahe right? a bloody persistent one. If all fails i will be commiting suicide in ward 29 in hopes that i would be mentioned as the boy who died of a headache. argh...
warning warning
pahlawan pening.

Eidul Adha

Selamat Hari Raya Haji
if there is such a greeting. heh. Maybe it cant be help Eidulfitri outhsines Eiduladha in terms of celebrations, particularly in the southeast asian region. In the middle east, Hari Raya Haji is given more...well..celebration.
We are celebrating it at my house, as the matriach, affectionately nicknamed nenek koni, is at our house. The food's usually the same (as Raya Puasa) and sometimes a result of potluck as only one house would be the victim of awkward family interactions. See we dont go visiting all our relatives. We just gather at wherever the eldest of the family is.
My Javanese grandad (paternal) is in the hospital. His toe amputated. Diabetes perhaps. What a way to spend Adha.

Without a doubt, i missed the morning prayers. However, i still got a glimpse of the sheep at the mosque. Paid a visit 12am in the morning.


Beads of condensed vapour drizzled down, ushered by the chilly wind. The sheeps were wet, and their enclosure, muddy. Bleak. The sight wasnt as vibrant as seen last year.
But hey, at least the sheep werent late. hoho

Pahlawan Putih

The bird's trapped in the body's cage
its feet bound by worldly chains
it tries to fly but fails
The bird's trapped in the body's cage

rainbow coloured birds circle freely in the sky
their brilliant splendour a rapture for the eye

its feet bound by worldly chains
it tries to fly but fails
The bird's trapped in the body's cage

the bird pines with longing
it yearns to spread its wings
it wants to join the joyful birds
leaving its fleeting home

The clay bird laments:
"Why did You infuse my heart with longing,
if you didn't give my wings the strength to fly?"

its feet bound by worldly chains
it tries to fly but fails
The bird's trapped in the body's cage

Ward 29 Bed 7.

After hours of endless(or so it seems) waiting, diagnosis and actual treatment, i was wheeled off to my ward. Definately a whole lot of waiting in the process. Wait for doctors, nurses and officers whom i was tickled by due to the fact they were all colour coded acording to seniority. The brighter shade/hue you don, the more bossy/senior you were.

The doctor was pretty insistent i stayed as he was quite alarmed two rounds of the Nebuliser did nothing to the wheezing in my chest. It got weird when the doctor repeated himself a dozen more time on why i should be warded. Reminded me of Tony Shaloub in Adrian Monk, Monk. After alot of waiting, it was really frustrating, especially when you have fever and forced to wear an uncomfortable mask sitting in the "Patients with Fever Section"(glass panels all four sides. a feeling of Lizard Enclosure), i was finally wheeled slowly (and steadily) to my ward through a series of restricted pathways and lifts. There was a whole lot of awkwardness. Maybe because i knew i was capable of walking and also because my dad was with me. See medisave for the first three children is under him and the other three my mom. He had to be present for the fees and all.

A surge of excitement came invited, as my strange hopes of reliving moments in the hospital was granted. I was quite impatient to hop on to my bed and get a version of Florence nightingale tending to my illness. A bit dramatic but funny enough, i was greeted by a (Tagalog speaking) nurse by the name of Flores. It could just be her family name for all i know. I was given blue 'M' size pyjamas to change a cup of diluted milo with half a slice of tuna sandwich. Not knowing what to do after a brief exploration of the ward, I laid down, mya pillow snuggly resting over my eyes.

Soon after, i was woken up by a gentle pat on my arm. The nurses were wheeling a device from one bed to another. Apparently it measures the patients' blood pressure and oxygen level. There was also the ear thermometer in the basket of wires. At this stage i didnt know what to expect. Many queries were waiting to be answered. Surely, answered in the matter of time.

There was nothing much to suppress my frivolous self except to stare blankly into the uninspiring oscillating fan. oh, and the ceiling that has a pseudo tile pattern. Maybe hospitals should redecorate ceilings, hopefully barring the puky green colour, as half the time patients lie down and are forced to view a monotonous perspective. I was longing for a book to read now that i had all the time in my hands. So how or another, i managed to sleep...
too
...only to be awaken again at 2am. A male nurse came by with a medical version of a tool box. He was unusually friendly, at such an ungodly hour, a nice change to the cold faces of the other nurses. Wrapped my arm with a twisted glove and swab a section with alcohol. My veins were eagerly protruding but my courage far from sight. Pride at stake i acted calm and cool as the nurse intrusively inserted a needle to my vein after proclaiming that it was going to be easy (the fact my veins were resembling speed humps) and i could "Relek one corner". I avoided looking at the point of penetration, but couldnt resist when i thought "Whats taking so long". It was interesting to see that my blood was more of purple then red. Then it all made sense - Veins carry deoxygenated blood, heamoglobin less red blah blah blah. The conversation continued for a while and ended with "...play football in the rain" (was informed that thats why most of the patients get asthma attack). With warmness still lingering from that conversation, i dozed off again. and again, my 'Z's shortlved.

This time it was the doctor. It was quite embarassing when she let out a slight snigger which was also when i realised i was ogling at her. Didnt think i would stare at her that obviously. Well i've always said, i usually fall for older women. hoho. Anyway she had a wedding band (thats usually the case aint it, older and/or taken.) The assessment went alright. I was to continue with the nebuliser at 4hr intervals. I didnt bother shutting my eyes this time as soon after the doctor drew back the curtains (that happened to be puky green), the nurse came with a syringe of clear liquid. Neb time!.
I was abit concerned for the other patients as the oxygen misting the ventolin and saline liquid makes a disturbing hissing sound. I sat up straight, eyes watering from the multiple yawns, conciously breathing in and out. The rumbling and wheezing in my lungs were unsatiable, an indication that my lungs where full of phelgm waiting to be expelled.

I woke up before dawn (ard 6-ish). The lights were on and there seemed to be movement in the ward again. They were wheeling the same device again which made me figure out that my blood pressure, body temperature and oxygen level (in blood) was being monitored at intervals too. Soon after, i got my ass of the bed - with much relief, went to the toilet and took my abolutions. Did my Subuh sitting down just like zohor,ashar,magrib and ishak the day before. My lightheadedness did not permit me to stand still thus a chair was called for. This was another advantage to being hospitalised. All my waktu(s) were being looked after, contrary to everyday life -heh.

After a series of naps and nebs, i was left anticipating the digital digits of my phone to display '12:00pm' as it meant the start of the first visiting time which also meant i might finally have company from either my friends or by a book i requested my mom to bring for me. It was the former that arrived. Angel and Asmah came by with Seafood fried rice and Mee rebus (due to my fickle mindedness) from bedok hawker centre. I placed the food aside as i had just finshed an oily serving of Noodle Delight, hospital lunch. Should've capture Angel's reaction when she found out i was lying about being knocked down by a lorry. hoho. Managed to chat here and there before Ili and Dee came by too. Suddenly i became unneccessarily concious of the pyjamas i was wearing in the afternoon. Angel and Asmah left before it became anymore awkward and also since Angel had a tutorial at 4. Ili and Dee brought chocolate that they themselves were eager to eat. My abdomen that was sore, from all the coughing, was not spared as Ili lashed out her nonsense, as usual. I had fun all the way down to the lobby. Ili had to leave for work and Dee had practice.

Dinner came early at 6. Asam Pedas w/ fish, stir-fried cabage and longbeans, rice and Longan snow fungus soup. Not long after, Cik Tipah + Uncle Bakar and Cik Norli + Ilhan dropped for a visit. It was nice to see that little bugger. After they left, Kakak ya and Sahar paid a visit. Never meet long time also. Discovered i accidently tipped the tasting cup that had my cough syrup, leaving a sticky mess on my bag which was conviniently cushioning it's fall from the bedside locker.

Family came a bit too early, didnt manage to have a proper conversation with my cousins but at least they brought Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, a book i have been putting off reading. Everyone left. 9pm. Way beyond boundaries of visiting time. The bed beside me - still had a circle of 'concerned' family members, the lobby - closed, the lounge - filled with roaring laughter and obnoxious dialect. I had nowhere to run. Nowhere to read my book. Clenched my jaw, teeth pressing on teeth, fingernails tight in my fist, i went back to my bed. Blasting my mp3 on my earphones could not drown the empty, sympathetic conversations my neighbours were having. Soon after, they left. And it all seemed like another test of patience. Something you'll really need, and train to stretch, when living in Sg.

The book got me hook. Discrimination and stereotyping aside, i think J.K. Rowling is a fabulous writer, who is tremendous at keeping a link between her books and basically a genius. I guess reading her book had rekindled a favourite pastime that vanished soon after pastimes became a luxury, and ignited a wasteful passion for writing long winded entries that are confusing as a whole. heh.
The senior nurse, malay (from the way she correctly pronounced my name), was kind enough to allow me to read the book in the light and drawing the curtains, so as not to disturb the other patients. By the next day, i completed half the book, the only productive thing i did other than to 'get well'.

In the morning, after a few more nebs, the doctor came by. Was quite elated i could be discharged that day itself. I was done with the hospital experience. I had enough of "muslim food"(another discrimination. muslim food vs malay food. Morbid humour - how Ketchup Fish was actually Soy Sauce Fish [Kicap lah!]) Overall it was an experience i needed to go through and i felt beneficial in preparation for NS -uniform, sucky food, early bedtime.

A far cry from my expectations. Then again, expectations are meant to be unrealistically set. I expected a condusive environment to 'get well'.
Places may fail to entertain.
People will never cease to amaze.

Pahlawan Putih

This headache might just be the death of me.

The headache's back. The gruesome irritating makes-me-suicidal headache is back. I had it on my 16th birthday and either Abg Najib's or Abg Farid's wedding at Kampung Ubi cc. Its realy an annoyance. it just wont go away. And it seems everyone thinks its just a headache. well headaches are symptoms. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
theres jsut so many things in my mind. So many worries to be worried. so many people to please. Fuck it lah.

argh
[ahlawanpnadfh

MIA

You guys are probably tired of clicking a link to this site to check for updates. Well, it seems blogging has lost its omph, shazaz, omnipotence, flare, appeal. Half of my daily reads (that i enjoy reading) have dissapeared like Podah! and This Lifetime and some are still existant but just updating less frequently and less excitingly. [Now i'll have to go back to reading the newspaper.]
I for one am one of those people. Maybe it had grown to be a chore and people start abstaining from blogging as to reduce distraction from their lives.
I mean, we're sacrificing 10-30mins each time thinking of things to update the site with so that entertainment-seekers with too much time on their hands (prolly procrastinating) are compelled to tag on our tagboards. Of course there are other reasons like just an output, or just a bookshelve to keep memories for the years to come, or selling items like modesty, dignity, 6-i+e etc. What ever it is, its getting boringly dull here. Call in the sad clowns.
Im drinking spirits in the hope i get one......

Anyway i have lots of updates on last week.

Tuesday: SNT photo shoot, briefing

Was quite a tiring day. Gargantuously exhausting.
Started with a nasty fall. Well, I fell in love. With Khelena. I picked her up from Punggol (still etched in my mind, pictorial recollections forming a map. in case i have the urge to meet her). It was a nice sunny (but cool) morning, and in the bus, i was sitting next to Khelena. We were both apprehensive and shy at first but then we got comfortable with each other's presence. I couldnt contain the butterflies in my stomach as their presence (the butterflies) was due to an eclectic mix of anxiety to get to know Khelena and the apprehension for the fact that she was already someone else's. Our journey to Temasek Poly took almost 40mins, quite faster than expected (consdering we took two buses and an MRT),and since we left punggol at 0940hrs, we reached school at 1020hrs. I introduced her to the SNT girls (whom Khelena will be working with) with much excitement, feeling proud i managed to hook up with a beautiful chick. I even caught a few green eyed stares at the corner of my eye. I brushed it off from my mind as now, Khelena is with me, and is all that matters.
The shoot officially started at ard 1200hrs, i was upset and showed my displeasure as (everybody should know) noon time is the worst time to take photographs as there wont be shadows and less dramatic effect to the subjects. But i proceeded. Then i rushed of for the talk and rushed back. and then soon after a few agonising hours, it was over. Glitter and potpourri all over the floor. Then, off to BK for supper/late dinner. Khelena stayed over at my place. It was just nice to have her by my side. If you guys haven't already found out, Khelena's actually a digital SLR camera. To think only that night i discovered the Automatic focus switch.Luckily all the pics werent blur. I was somekind of Javanese guy thing.


Wednesday: Singapore Zoological Gardens with Auntie Ants crew

The Girls thought $15 was just cut throat to see Animals from all across the globe in their enclosure made similar to their natural habitat behaving naturally and the chance of superb photgraphy. Well, i was minority. hohoh. So instead they decided to go sentosa. Woo-hoo~(Sense the sarcasm?). They said meet 1030hrs at Harborfront. Guess who was still rubbing his eyes (adjusting to the sunlight) and stretching his toes at 1030hrs. It was hilariouslah.
I reached at i-cant-remember-hrs and yes they all gave me the face. Partly cos i didnt bring anything for the picnic either. hoho. Grabbed a packet of Teh Peng from the usual stall and took the shuttle bus to the heavily commercialised island. (I found a word to describe the teh peng at Harbor front Hawker centre, "Dreamy". Just like me -hoho)
Jas brought us to her can-see/catch-fish-bridge-small-island-across-siloso-beach. It was nice. Better than Tanjong beach -infested with four-legged creatures aimed at catching flyin objects and mating with every other dog in sight. Then we were about to head of to coffee bean - Yeah, go all the way to sentosa to go cb. cb. , i lead the way to experience the free viewing section of the underwater world. hoho.. Large turltles either waving at us with its flipper or trying to sign something vulgar with the lack of third fingers.
Then we saw peacocks. Jas said the males would fan out their extravgantly flamboyant feathers when threatened or scared. Maybe we should have showed our FPQAP portfolio requirements. Anway.. they sell a cup of ice for a dollar there. BLOODy CUT OESOPHAGUS. And the lady had the audacity to recommend buying it with the drink for $2.60. - Boleh beli nasi lemak sark. After giving up, we took the blue line, passed the visitor departure place then went up to the Coffee bean.
I was treated with a free Fruit Iced Tea (Thanks to [shitiforgotindrah'sgirlfriendsname]. I didnt know she was working at that outlet. Manage summore.) and a monkey encounter. Pictures may explaing it all. It was my second day with Khelena. Thanks again Aida's since secondary school friend, Rizal.






with all that animal, it was almost the zoo.

Then it ended around 6. On my way home, i bumped into Zah, Shikin and Zaki. The last time we met outside was at burger king, hanging out after scriptwriting workshop. Was going to buy dinner and dine out but i decided to join them since they were going to Ljs anyways. After convincing me to treat them to Seoul Garden, we left to walk-walk. Landed at the arcade at TM. Played 2 games of air hockey and matching-matching thing then we bersurai-ed.

Thursday: El-Sheik with Sarah and Nadia and Fauzia

At this point i was already fed-up. Girls all have a common traits. One which is most distinctive is nagging. wah lanz. meet girls 3 days in a row. Now i have a gist of how my guy friends (all attached/some MIA) feel like. Thus im still single. hoho. Lets just leaving the nagging to my mom first k. heh. Love is but nagging attention.
But anyway, a plan is a plan. so met them a bit late as i was in school tutoring an IT (and later, a Design) student on how to use Photoshop, and create website. Whats the world coming to.
Back to belly dancerable arab music and the sweet smell of fruit flavoured sheeshas. El sheik was chosen over places like Al-majlis, Samar etc for good sheesha. but it wasnt all that good that day. It all then suddenly felt cliche. Everything seem to be have done before. The chicken shawarma (w/ rice) however was very delectably scrumptious. Then there was an ar of uneasiness that lingered in my stomach. Even a visit to the gents did not relieve me of the nagging pain. And so i left. There was no point in staying. El sheik didnt have any spirits.
alighted at simei. Continued with my tutorial.



Friday: DK Training
I had every intention to go. But Fridays are days where i totally lose it. I just lose my organisation. I totally forgot about a compulsory talk but i remembered it. Confusing? yeah.. thats fridayas for me. Most of the times i would walk halfway from my house to the mosque and stop, thinking "Is today really friday?"
After adopting my apathetic split personality, i just decided to go prayers and then go off to SPCA Bartley Rd for phototaking. Met lots of cats there.
There was one mischeivious cat who's name was Gerald but i decided Teh Peng was more suitable due to his tea (w/ milk) coloured fur. Then there was Sophie. all beautiful. Took quite a few good pics.

Then headed to Toa Payoh to head to Town.
By now i was already feeling not so good. After topman and topshop (not my scene) headed to puncak for dinner. I regretted being curious for the second time. Two words. Honeydew Chicken Noodle (ok fine, 3 words.) How about an adjective? Diabetic. It was so bloody sweet, they should have place it under dessert. What an annoyance. Bloated, i left the guys for home. At this point, i was sicker. hoho

So two times in a row, i left when the night was young... is it wrong? should courtesy have any say in it?

Then on saturday i went ill. Spent new year playing Cluedo at Dee's. Pressed the forbidden switch and did my business in the dark. nonetheless it was fun. enjoyed it throughly.
the sunday, i was moaning. head spinning.

then on monday...

Ward 29 bed 7
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