Scrap Metal

I wish I was 10 today.

So I can go up to my dad and ask him how to fix things.

When I was 10, I used to take my dad's supply of scrap wood and hammer nails into them. Sometimes, I'd hammer out a pattern, and infill it will my cross stitch threads and sometimes I'd hammer aimlessly, trying to perfect the art of hammering. Soon, when I was able to hammer without bending the nails, I’d find a sense of zen, losing myself in the motions. I hammered whenever I needed to figure something out in my head. At 10, I think the biggest issue that bugged me was why I had problems reading and calculating. I didn’t understand the need to change the grades on my report card, but only understood that getting an A seemed to make my parents happy.

This need to continuously change just to make someone else happy, it still plagues me.

I wish I was 10 today.

So I can be back in my village, sewing clothes for my Teddy bear and Teddy bunny with my grandma’s scrap cloth. They were out of shape and didn’t fit them properly, but at least they were warm wearing my scrap cloth outfits.

This need to wear the warmth I find in things that do not fit me properly, it still plagues me.

I wish I was 10 today.

So I can fall asleep on my stairs or at the edge of the border of the split level in my house.

This need to always be at one open edge, instead of finding comfort in corners and sides, it still plagues me.

I wish I was 10 today. So I can still go about, believing I wasn’t broken and needed to be fixed.

Hammering
Scraps
Edges
Fixing

I have in me, a scrap metal heart
Broken and mended with many a spare part

Counter

There will be times in your life when you just can’t deal, so you decide to check out of it.

Today, I decided to check out.

Sometimes I resent these ‘melancholic’ mood swings that plague me.
So I lay my head down on my hands and wake up two hours later, still at my desk.
I hate people telling me you create your own happiness. Because it isn’t created, it’s born out of something. And when someone else comes along and takes the piss out of your happiness, well, that’s when we check out. We work so hard and fight so hard to gain and keep the happiness, and at the end, it all falls apart. So what’s the point?! It’s easier to not be happy then.

It’s so much easier being nice. But it’s easier being depressed. Have you noticed that tears flow easier than laughter? That taking sleeping pills is easier than clearing your mind to fall asleep?

It’s easier to wear facades than to be the real you.

Check out. Just check out. It’s easier this way.

Couldnt Face Him

Dreaming.........

Dreamt that i was back in Vegas, finishing up some discussion about prose. Weird as i dont know anything abt prose, so why should i be dreaming it?

then i had to move on to my next lesson, a one-on-one tutorial guitar lesson. I couldnt remember my tutor's face, it was blurred, but i remember he was gonna show me something new.

So in anticipation, i went down to my room to pick up my guitar. It's neck was broken. Then i said to myself, that's not my real guitar, it's a Yamaha, mine's a Takamine. Then i put the broken Yamaha down, and looked around the room. Each guitar i picked up was the wrong one. One didnt have strings, and even one was a Gambus! i started panicking and frantically turned my huge room upside down. I found one guitar that had eight strings on it, sitting on my swan chair.

Just as i found my normal takamine, i grabbed it, turned around, and expecting to see my tutor's face, i woke up.

Daymnn, i love remembering my dreams. :)

Note to Self

I woke up today and realized I was still alive. That is the weirdest feeling ever.

Less than the span of a day, two people have made references to The Verve’s work, ‘The Drugs don’t Work Anymore’ to me, and when such cosmic signs align, one does not ignore it. So I pulled up my reliable hard disk of my life chronicles, located Urban Hymns, track number 4 (not 6 as I said w such false confidence earlier in the day-my bad), and hit the loop button. After two consecutive loops, I had to stop the track halfway on the third.

The song just didn’t feel right to me, didn’t feel as if I should have listened to it at this point in time of my life. It rested uneasy on my shoulders, and I tried to shrug it off all Sunday as I did two G. Butler shows B2B. It feels like I’ve stumbled unto someone else life; and to put it in polite Brit terms, I should ‘just shove off’.

I woke up this morning w a story on my mind. It sounds like a bad re-mastered storyline, but I know how I wanna work the angle.

It’s abt a girl, who is somewhat clairvoyant. But she couldn’t see anything abt her life, just abt other’s in her life. Till she met this snake, who asked her the question that would soon become her poison apple. If she could, would she want to see abt her life? Would she want to know of the man she meets, of the hurt she’d have to endure, and of how and when she dies? Of course she swallows the red pill :D but if you think you wont be buying this book, think again. All she foretells during her ‘clairvoyancy’ is deck of cards, she has to interpret them.

I know it’s a theme that’s been used before, but it’s feels different this time, since I’m writing it, and not reading it, and I sadly know how it ends. And it irks me, to be clairvoyant abt a character in my plot, but it angst me as well, that my girl doesn’t realize that although she chooses to know how she dies, she doesn’t get the whole picture until it’s too late. And why a snake, and why draw alliterations to the adam eve debacle?

The things that have led me here:
1) I very badly wanted an African egg eating snake. For the past month, that’s all I was obsessed abt. Till I had a very bad dream. And the bad dream didn’t just vanished; it came again- abt being chased by anacondas, every time waking up just as they were poised to attack me. A few weeks ago, I went hiking in the jungle, and a black cobra slithered past my path. Cosmic.

2) What do snakes represent to me? To me, they are of eternal life, immortality. The Ouroboros has always captured my attention. The never ending of points in time. I like that. This fascination has led me to my obsession w dragons for it is told that the snake and the dragons are cousins. Then within the span of 2 months, I’ve met 3 people w dragon tattoos. I’ve always met people with tribal or tiger tats, but 3 people w dragons in 2 months, it’s cosmic. And when one of them w the draco tat refers to the earlier song mentioned, it’s cosmic. Which the song then leads me to writing this note so self, which I don’t know where yet it would lead. And a week ago, i met someone w a tribal Ouroboros tat on his back. Cosmic

3) Why the power of clairvoyance? Because my own prediction has been wrong. I predicted that I would die at 24. Then I tot the next 3 years were bonus years, and then I would kaput. Ok, so being wrong once in my life isn’t such a bad thing :P But then H tells me her fortune teller predicted a certain event to happen early next year to her. I suddenly sat upright and said ‘eh? Another prediction’.
Something’s not right here. Cosmic. I haven thought abt my wrong prediction for so many years, till a week ago. When I met the third man w the draco tat, and I said to him, “that’s the Guardian god of life isn’t it?” and as I looked at his grey blue eyes for confirmation, I realized I was still alive.

4) I just ordered a bible.

This is just me recording my thought process.

Second Place

Every guy should have Spiderman's Aunt as an advisor. In the struggling midst of battling evil villians, Spidey thought he didn't have the capacity to be with Mary Jane and to make her his priority.

Then Aunt Spidey told Peter Parker to always make Mary Jane his first priority.

And women are such funny creatures. Once you make them numero uno, as a guy, you will suddenly find yourself encased with trusting web swinging freedom. It's true. As soon as a woman is reassured about your commitment to her, you could be frequent flyer miles apart and yet she wouldn't doubt you for a moment.

I don't think i'll ever be good enough to be first priority, but maybe second place isn't so bad either.

It's de ja vu, it'll be career first, then me.


Could I live with that?

Wake Me Up When July Ends

Sometimes all you wanna do is sit in your Eames chair and contemplate the boundaries of design….. and then your boss asks you where are his plans, the project manager requests for the stage design dimensions, the electrician calls you up and asks who is to pay for the light bulbs that keep blowing out once ever y three weeks, (on that note, the management office that runs the establishment pays for the new bulbs cause it is under monthly maintenance and not the poor architect who has yet to collect her project payment fees, even though the architect did specify for that light fitting), the editor requests for two of your architect’s statement, your partner asks you where to get the plum colored glass mosaic tile that I specify for (plum mind you, not lavender, not magenta and certainly not purple), the RSJ calls and asks why weren’t you in contact with them and why I didn’t show up at the meeting on Wednesday, the RIPPP asks you where is your GSE program docile & have I prepared the presentation for the run through on Sunday, the client calls to confirm that you have to attend their big do on Saturday (Saturday!?!! My day of chillaxing… :-S),

And then I think…. It’s ok, I can chillax on Sunday…. Wait….. I have to go back to the office to help out with the photo shoot at 6am, then I have to go for my RIGSE training and mock presentation, then purchase large quantities of Malaysian souvenirs at the Central Market and then find some time to cry.

Cause by then I am back in the square before the Eames chair….. lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling fan and wondering when can I afford my own original Eames chair…………..

Tell Me Something.........

The one about the Non-Politically Correct Present:

Tell me something, is buying lingerie for your girlfriend really a great Yultide present? Guys argue that it's a great idea cause it's expensive and luxurious and their woman love it!

Erm.... Seriously?!

Isnt buying lingerie for her more akin to buying her a cook book so that she can whip up something delicious for you to eat?! *THIS SOUNDS SO WRONG SOMEHOW....*

Let's face it men, buying lingerie for your woman is more like buying yourself a little treat............ and who's to say you're not secretly wearing it when your woman is out of the house eh?!

So may I suggest, keep the lingerie idea but add a little Tiffany box alongside the satin, silk and lace.

And as one of my fav buddy tells me: "Ahhh, Lingerie.... the gift that keeps on giving....."


The One about the Inappropriate Gift Asking:

Tell me ladies, where do you get off asking your boyfriend to buy you that expensive phone/ Gucci Bag/ MacBook Pro, one that cost more than his one month salary?! And saying that he can afford it does'nt really justify you being a materialistic left wing cow.

Ok, maybe asking for it isnt as bad as throwing a tantrum when he buys you a phone that you think is 'too cheap'. As it's just as bad as being able to afford all these lovely goodies yourself, but unwilling to spend the greens on it.

I know everyone prefers it if you tell them what you want for your anniversary/Valentine/Birthday/Hannukah/Independance/Christmas day present, but do you really have to ask for something thats worth 3 months of his paycheque?

Bring back the Bra burning days i say.