I want to unlock the truth from its prison.

To have loved and lost is better than never have loved at all, or so the saying goes. I've tried to understand it but I suppose I have the emotional capacity of a petri dish because I just don't see it at all. Nevertheless, like everything else, I'm curious about this. Everything seems like a bad videogame quest these days where the dragons I must slay are all inside me. Nothing new but it sure is a pain in the ass.

This is precisely the reason why I favour logic and practicality. They never disappoint you. Soul searching can only take you so far. I have had enough of one sided conversations and frankly, I'm getting bored of being washed over by sudden bouts of sadness. It's tiring. I'd like to be perpetually ecstatic for a change.

For the first time it seems like everything I thought I knew just looks like a pathetic fraction of a grander vision that just eludes my consciousness. Y'know, how at the end of a dream, things get a bit fuzzy around the edges and you try to grasp onto the tail end of a disappearing cloud...that's exactly what this limbo is to me. It's mental hell.

Years of repressed emotions have now manifested itself in the form of indigestion, nervous disposition and a tendency to inflict innocent web trawlers with my baggage.

Shame on me.

The many kinds of love.

I had this strange dream where the main features were people who have impacted on my life at some point. I was in a beautiful mall, the place was sparkling and white. I saw some people who I did my best to ignore, others I tried to avoid and some, I ran to.

It's ok to lie to protect someone you care about. It still tugs at me like an unacknowledged ghost, the not knowing.

Sad is:
finding out you have nothing left of yourself to give. And then finding out you just don't feel like sharing yourself anymore.

I worry for her, I worry that she might shatter into pieces too small for me to pick up. Most of all, I worry words traveling over oceans and continents won't be adequate enough. This is the closest I'll ever come to love.

so that's what it feels like

i never imagined i could open up to another soul other than those i've known all my life. its overwhelming and fuzzy all at the same time. its not joyous bubbles of happiness. its a lot more like the quiet depths of content.

i've always wondered.

and now i know. it feels like i solved one huge puzzle in my life.

what's the best thing, though?









i didn't have to change one bit.

closure is

The present work environment is still fast paced and dynamic albeit everyone around me is a tad quieter than the eclectic mix of characters in my former workplace. When people ask how the new job is coming along, I tell them I get to see sunset these days. I still find it unnerving that it's compulsory to hold the handrails while climbing the stairs but hey, that's safety for you.

This time last year I was commuting everyday to the capital and getting lost on my way to assignments. There were people to meet, officials to offend, stories to be told, life to make sense amidst the chaos. Every initial perception I had about this place and its people crumbled in months. Ultimately, it's a humbling and renewing experience. To many, it was a low pay zero respect job but I loved it. I think it was the first time I truly committed myself to anything. What else explains this poorly disguised tribute?

Moving on. The flow of words seem to be a little erratic tonight. It could be the new brand of mustard I'm trying out or it could be that I've had another fabulous Saturday. Weekends make me happier than usual these days.

super duper love

i am freaking nervous. agitated. super jittery.

and its not because of the mocha. only partially. that just keeps my awake. but this treble wave of emotions and heartbeats is wrecking havoc with my insides. especially that downward pit where your bowels sometimes lose control.

whoa that sounded funny. anyway. i have an exam tonite. im skipping work today because of that. and i still have to write a program which i havent because i need help. which im getting of course. and there are more exams and activities coming up. which im glad of, in a way, because there are positive and negative forces in motion to keep me sane, albeit busy.

life is good. i had a good weekend. our crew performed at a show and it was really fun, both as a spectator and performer. i forgot how culturally significant asian cultures are, like pinoy, malay and chinese. all those uniqueness that makes us distinctly asian. everyone loved our performance. we all loved our performance. it was better than we thought, when we caught it on tape. plus i didnt really trip up my own solo, so i'm glad it all worked out.

as for matters of the heart, it seems like something good is on its way. we danced, we hung out, we talked. it was mutual, even if its subtle. its so subtle and not, its so hard to tell. perhaps a little story is in order to illustrate this situation. he treats me like he does everyone else, but those few little surprising touches showed that he cared. but then we both act as we are, as friends, and the difficult bit is we are so alike. no one makes a move unless pushed by an outside party (which happened, that sneaky friend).

so i dont know. im mulling things over while im preparing for my exam and thinking about whats going to happen. im still nervous though. about which, i dont know. i was never good at identifying emotions. its a handicap of mine, that i dont know how to fix or deal with.

so i shall let the clock tick by, for now. hoping time will fly til the time comes when i wish it would stop.

Go baby go go!

One of the inevitable side effects of watching go-cart (or is it go-kart?) racing on a typical Bruneian afternoon is coming home with bad sunburn. While I'm still glowing from the terrific time I had at the Kuala Belait Motor Carnival, my shoulders are already itching and flaking. An inconsequential and totally worthwhile price for having so much fun.

I was supposed to meet newly weds Fei and Tun, after a quick meeting with one of Brunei Times' editors at the Carnival. Naturally I had to pick today of all days to forget my handphone. I couldn't be bothered to drive home because finding a parking spot was especially hellish so this clever girl said stuff it, just wing it and go look for the BT booth. It took me a good 15 minutes before I saw the BT clan distributing papers to a largely uninterested crowd. But all was good as I caught up with them before Hadi and I decided to check out the exquisitely crafted continental and asian models. We were drooling over the Audi Q7 SUV-looking-model and this other Volvo cool-hatchback-type when we noticed people were gravitating towards the racing area. Like sheep, we followed the herd.

Having been to the Sepang Grand Prix, every other form of racing should pale in comparison. But I was totally blown away by the total craziness of go-carting. I mean, I used to think this was a lame wannabe sport. But it was so awesome! It could be that I was high on the fumes from the burning rubber but man! I was really impressed. No one died or broke any bones but Hadi pointed out that the public was a bit too close to the racing circuit for comfort, obviously. I suppose that element of danger gave me that adrenaline buzz, not that I find flying pieces of metal very thrilling in general.

I've got more photos from the weekend but since I can't figure out Photoshop just yet (now everyone knows my shameful little skeleton) you people will have to wait. I must say I had a terrific weekend, what with last night's UBD's Institute of Medicine's Charity Evening for SMARTER in Jerudong. Managed to snap a few random shots of the event but Izzy and I were mostly having fun mocking a particularly disturbing dance troupe. These people came out from backstage with 2 feet long white feathers sticking out of their hair. It looked like they had an accident with a flock of seagulls. I had a Perez Hilton moment then...it was fuglyyyyyyy.

The evening's entertainment was superb - minus the feathered dancers, for some reason I got a bit teary-eyed when the singers came on stage. I wouldn't exactly describe myself as a patriot but these people make the nation proud. They are so talented. A few autistic children bravely commanded centrestage as well (now that's when I really had to hold back from bawling). I'll post pictures when I blog next. I'm feeling a little silly for typing up a cringe-worthy blow by blow account of my weekend because it just detracts from the awesomeness of it all. But it felt like someone threw a humongous bash and everyone was invited!

This positive vibe thing is very infectious. You can tell by the number of exclamation marks in this post. Have a truly magnificent day everyone!

something old something new

Thursday, October 13, 2005

I'm an armchair radical, a closet anarchist.

I don't know what to write.
Come to think of it I've never really known what to write.
It's like even in cyberspace I'm reluctant to let go of control over my thoughts and speech. I guess this is what it's all about, having control. No surprise.
But I'd really like to experiment with my creative side.
And we'll work with the assumption that I possess one.


I wanted to be involved with the arts once upon a highschool time ago.
But I have no outstanding talent of any sort.
I wrote amateurish scripts, almost-but-not-quite stories of every genre, acted in plays for the sake of wearing cool costumes if nothing else, play the piano without much gusto, sketch ugly pictures of a well-endowed naked male model, attempted to sing Italian opera and Broadway tunes.
Not that I'm complaining but I'd love to love doing something. With my hands, mind, whatever works.
I'm still looking for it. And the harder I look, the more elusive it becomes.
I'm afraid I might one day wake up tired of chasing that want.


And then where would I be?
A shell.
A robot.
A bored witless person.


I will not concede to a a life of white bread and MTV.
I'll be an armchair radical.
I'll protest from the depths of the blue and white futon in my living room.
I will consume carbonated drinks while shaking my fists at the telly.
I will shove potato crisps, yes crisps, not chips (there's apparently a difference) into my mouth while chanting anti-Bush slogans.
I will be as angsty as I want and the neighbours can't stop me.


Maybe it's the world catching up on me. Maybe I'm trying to find my niche.
Maybe maybe maybe.


I've always been passionate. But never found a proper outlet for it.
And people think I'm angry when I try to let it out.
Party-poopers.
Maybe I'm going to be one of those hemp clothed, tree-hugging, animal-saving New Agers...unlikely. No offense but give me a bar of soap and well done steak anyday.
I'm not confused, I'm just searching.


This is my first truthful attempt to blog without trying to be quirky or informative or heaven forbid, cute.
I will resign myself to this limbo for now so watch out naked male models.
I'm upgrading from charcoal sticks to oil based paint, and maybe a drum set too.
Might as well have fun while I'm at it.

posted by Alamak! Wani! at 10:31 PM

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this is a really old post from my other blog (long gone)...it sounds so a-n-g-r-y. boy oh boy do i have issues.