Wednesday, April 29, 2009

I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free

27th April 2009

It was the day of my freedom; I was released from the clutches that held me for 4 gruelling months. Overwhelmed by feelings of joy, we decided to hold a celebration to commemorate our release. Not forever but a temporal release from studying. It was decided that we all need to let out the grudges we bore within us against the system we live in. And so, karaoke was the solution.

How interesting was it? I would say it was 60-40. Let me justify myself with an elaborate explanation. It was 40% good because I felt so relieved after one week of suffering and toiling. It's this feeling you get, where you have no more worries in the world and you can just sit there, waste time and not feel guilty about it. No offence to my friends who were with me, 60% of the day was bad for me.

Three reasons. Firstly, I spent the night before singing and composing songs with my friends that I lost 70% of my voice the following day. Now, of course, who would enjoy a karaoke session without his full voice to abuse? Secondly, there were too many Mandarin songs sung. I don't understand and I can't read Mandarin. And there's this thing with Mandarin songs; almost 90% of the time, they have this similar rhythm, tune, and flow. Heck, even the MVs were the same! Almost every MV you have this guy and girl kissing or rolling on the bed. I guess to the Chinese, songs are all about love and relationships. Yes, karaoke's not the place for me to appreciate true music but nevertheless, I always have this tendency in me to evaluate a song's musical value.

I was being a couch potato and staring blankly at the screen when I asked myself, "What's the date today?" I realised it was 27th April 2009. I stopped; my heart sank. It was Dad's birthday the previous day. Somehow, I didn't remember. The person who has done so much for me and loved me like no one ever has is now but a memory.

I sat there, feeling disappointed. I didn't want to forget, yet I did. My feelings changed. Apart from being tired, sorrow consumed me. Memories flooded my mind. Birthdays were special to Dad. He had his own trademarked ways of celebrating birthdays in the family. Go away; don't bother me. What good are memories when the person is not around anymore? It just kills me a little more inside everytime this happens.

27th April 2009. Yes, I finally got my freedom. But I never had freedom from my memories.

It hurts. It still hurts.

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Luther Vandross - Dance With My Father Again

Back when I was a child 
Before life removed all the innocence 
My father would lift me high 
And dance with my mother and me and then

Spin me around till I fell asleep 
Then up the stairs he would carry me 
And I knew for sure 
I was loved

If I could get another chance 
Another walk, another dance with him 
I'd play a song that would never, ever end 
How I'd love, love, love to dance with my father again

When I and my mother would disagree 
To get my way I would run from her to him 
He'd make me laugh just to comfort me, yeah, yeah 
Then finally make me do just what my mama said

Later that night when I was asleep 
He left a dollar under my sheet 
Never dreamed that he 
Would be gone from me

If I could steal one final glance 
One final step, one final dance with him 
I'd play a song that would never, ever end 
Cause I'd love, love, love to dance with my father again

Sometimes I'd listen outside her door 
And I'd hear her, mama cryin' for him 
I pray for her even more than me 
I pray for her even more than me

I know I'm prayin' for much too much 
But could You send back the only man she loved 
I know You don't do it usually 
But Lord, she's dyin' to dance with my father again 
Every night I fall asleep 
And this is all I ever dream

Monday, April 27, 2009

Passive Manipulation

 My last paper for this semester is in 2 hours. Don't be misunderstood; I did not wake up early just to do some last minute revision. In fact, I did not sleep. Lately, I have been having some conversations concerning the Christian life with one of my friends. As the 3 of us sat at Sahur yesterday, again, we were at topics which revolved around this.

To be honest, I'm no saint. To be honest, I'm a sinner. And maybe one worse than most of you out there. During my early secondary years, I mixed with a group of "heavy" Cantonese speaking friends. It was those years that I was a foul-mouthed little brat with a very enhanced and comprehensive vocabulary of vulgar words. As I grew up, my conscience prompted me to stop. I did in a way. I no longer use explicit foul words but retained milder forms of them such as "bitch", "asshole", and those within the same category. For me, it was, "Hey, as long as I don't use Cantonese bad words or the F-word, I'm justified." And so, developed a self-righteous theory which I lived with for years.

We all want to be Christians the easy way. We all want to be good Christians but retain some sins in certain respects of our lives. I give in a little, I compromise Christianity a little, and we have what I term a comfortable contract of living. Until now, I never realised I was setting double standards in my Christian life. Consider sin. What categories exist? Is murder any heavier a sin than theft? Is adultery much greater a sin than pornography? The truth is, categories don't exist. You don't measure sin. You don't compare one sin's sinfulness with another. Even we, sinners, are equal in the eyes of God. So, what makes one sin different from another? Going back to the issue, what makes one bad word less explicit than the other? What makes "bitch" a less vulgar word than "fuck"? At this point, I'm disheartened because I'm self-righteous. I'm an unworthy sinner. I'm a hypocrite.

It's this. Something happened of late. I witnessed how blasphemous and vulgar a Christian can get. In my somewhat mixed feelings of humour and disapproval at what I saw, I became disgusted with myself. Even though I was a witness, I couldn't bring myself to correct my fellow brethren. How can I remove the speck which is in my brother's eyes when I fail to see the log in my own? God reminded and I made a decision. I will to break down the distinction I set between vulgar words of seemingly varying "degrees". I will to remove self-justifying double standards in my life. I will to be a lesser hypocrite than I already am.

This tends to be a trivial issue to many. In fact, some couldn't care less. My friend argued and told me it doesn't matter because it's just a form of expressing himself when he's agitated or frustrated. He told me it doesn't matter because he didn't mean those things he utters. It was nothing but mere statements of exclamation. But out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. How can we with the same mouth bless our God and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the similitude of God? Does a spring send forth fresh water and bitter from the same opening? Can a fig tree bear olive, or a grapevine bear figs?

Yes, many may further argue that vulgar words are defined by culture. No matter how you look at it, certain words will always be vulgar words, regardless of the etymology of the word or its exact purpose, meaning, or intent. So why should I bother? In essence, it's not that wrong after all. "Fuck" is just another word for having sex. It's culture that defines it as uncouth, as vulgar. I couldn't care less about what people think as long as I know I'm right. But my brethren, we are called to be imitators of Christ. We are His walking and living testimonies. It shouldn't be so but people judge Christianity by Christians, not by the faith itself. As ugly as it may sound, we Christians are living under scrutiny. We cannot do what the society deems as morally wrong, unacceptable, or in a more generic term, sin; even if it means sacrificing some of our pleasures and earthly contentment. And only he who is stronger can give in to the weaker. May we be less, and let Christ be more, that people will see and believe. 

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

My Sister, Cheryl

Folks, click on the image to view the conversation in enlarged mode.

As promised, sis. =)

P/S: Oh, just in case some of you don't get it, Damansara Perdana's where my sister stays in KL and of course, Pasir Puteh's our hometown in Ipoh. She's the first person I know who doesn't know dp stands for display picture. LOL.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Dear Mr.W,

Grace and peace be to you in abundance! I bring forth rather unpleasant tidings as I stand before you today to speak on behalf of my people and me concerning a grave matter. I am not of the complaining type but it has been getting unbearable of late. I understand from my trustworthy sources that you are going through a rather rough patch lately but I myself am going through pretty tough times as well. Just for your records, it is hard to live in a harmonious relationship with you when your emotions fluctuate between two extremes. In the highly probable event that you disagree, I would like to quote an experience of my own for your kind reference. I believe today is a fairly precise example.

On a beautiful Sunday morning like today, it was cloudy. In fact, it started to rain in the eleventh hour of the day. I presume that it was due to your getting up off the wrong side of the bed. In utmost due respect and blunt honesty, I would prefer you to always get up off the wrong side because I have a personal distaste towards heat. However, as the day progressed, you felt better, again I presuppose. And so much better that eventually, the lovely day turned into naught but heatwave! Just in case you do not know, it is like living in a microwave; save the existence of a timer that indicates when the heat stops.

Being the helpless little creatures without much control that we are is the reason why I wrote this letter of appeal to you; to see if you may so willingly do something about this. But of course, considering that you are always subjected to Mr.E's conditions, we being the stewards of Mr.E, are in fact indirectly in control of the situation. This can be proven through a display of lengthy, algebraic mathemathical equations but I do not consider this course of action necessary as space and time consumption are two limiting factors that disallow me to thoroughly expound my theory. Referring back to the said issue, unfortunately, the joint effort of stewardship between man and man is known to be an irredeemable failed cause. This is precisely why this letter has to be submitted.

Therefore, in light of our plight, may you be so kind, Mr.W, as to show a little grace on your humble subjects by seeing to this issue and taking the appropriate measures of concern. This will definitely help erase the growing doubts among my people that you have become apathetic towards man and prevent our man-weather relationship from further breaking down. In the event that you fail to sympathise and emphatise with us, we will continue to pursue justice in a persistent manner. For even the unjust judge avenged the widow because of her persistency.

On a final note, in the event even our sincere persistency fail to penetrate your iron coated heart of ice, we will resort to more drastic means and violent measures to achieve our good intentions.

Sweating under shower,

Mr.C. 

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

A Walk To Remember

Class of 5sc1

Let me slip against the current.


This was bugging me so I thought I'd just blog it to get it off my mind. This will be a long one.

I lay on my bed and memories flooded my mind. I started recalling all the close friends I made along the walk of life. Friends whom I've lost along the way, and friends I'm still in touch with. I began to see the pattern which friendships take on. Different phases in our lives demand different people. As we move on with life, friendships move on too.

I took an elaborate step by attempting to recall all the close friends I have, starting from primary school. To my surprise, it wasn't difficult to identify them. Back in Standard 3, my close friends were Wong King Mun and Suen Whei Yeap. I still remember our obsession with comic books and drawing our own comics. I also recall the times we went to each other's house to watch Dragonball. Things changed when Whei Yeap achieved excellent results in PTS and went one year ahead of us. The bond was broken in the end. I'm no longer in contact with both of them.

Standard 4 was one of the best times in my life. This was the phase I discovered one of my closest friend, whom I'm still in constant contact with. I still remember Kumara and me being enemies at first because back then, I didn't like Indians for some unknown reason. But somehow, the teacher made us sit together in Standard 4 and so, a beautiful friendship was fostered. I still remember we had a comfortable place at the back of the class, where we plastered notes like "Clarence & Kumara's Territory" to privatize the zone. Happy times.

We move on to Standard 5. If my memories didn't get the time zones wrong, it was William in this phase. I couldn't really remember when this friendship occured but the fact that it has impacted me to a certain extent proves how important it was to me. William frequented my house, where we played computer games and football together. We also had a common interest in tortoises. In fact, he was the one who introduced raring tortoises to me. The interest has certainly lost most of its spark with time, but nevertheless, a dim glow of it appears now and then. After Form 6, we are not in contact anymore.

Then came Standard 6. I had a fairly mixed number of close friends in this phase. What I still vividly remember is the small group I had which comprised of me, Shafiq, Eddie Raj, and Stephen. This was multi-ethnic integration at its highest level. We did most of the stupid things together, like running around the old pondok, galah panjang, jengket, football with plastic bottles and collecting biji sagu. It was also a phase where bottlecaps were a trend, with batu seremban and sorts. There are so much I remember that I couldn't write it all. Totally lost touch with Shafiq after he transferred to Teknik school (or something like that). Same goes for Eddie after we moved into different classes in secondary school.

Well, I was also close to Khael and Andrew Wong. Andrew wasn't someone easy to get along with but somehow, there was a little chemistry between us. This friendship carried on right up to Form 3, as we were in the same class. Kumara was also in that class too. I still remember us going out together and sharing games like Pizza and Heroes of Might and Magic. We were also into guitars in that phase. Timothy also appeared along this phase. And together as junior prefects, we started to build a close bond together.

Timothy was in the same class in Form 4 with me. It was at this phase that I rebuilt the friendship I used to have with Stephen as well. Here, I made close friends such as Yohanand, Kok Chen, Seng Hoe, and Bernard. The crazy times in class were beyond anything that I have and will ever experience. Shit we did in Chemistry and Bio classes, during Moral lessons, plus football during PJ were priceless. I'd never trade those moments and memories for anything in the world. Recently, I've caught up with Stephen and Bernard. In touch with Timothy, Kok Chen, and Seng Hoe once in awhile. Gavin also appeared at this point. Every morning, he would walk to my house and I'd give him a ride on my bike to school. Because of that, we gradually became close and shared common interests in GTA3, The Rasmus, and the like. We also went to the same Add Maths and Physics tuition together. Again, I've yet to catch up with this friend.

Let's do some retro. Michael appeared in Standard 6. We went through ups and downs in our friendship. We went out together and also shared interest in comics and "hamsup" things. However, we fought over issues I could not positively affirm now and didn't speak for few years in secondary school. In the end, I swallowed my pride and approached him at the bus stop one day after school. We talked once more and rebuilt the shattered ruins of our friendship. It wasn't difficult; we succeeded without much effort. In contact with him, now and then.

Form 6 was great too. I was afraid I'd be lonely at first, as most of my friends were going overseas. Thank God, Yohanand, Bernard, and Kumara were all here. It was at this phase that our friendships were further strengthened. It was great to have Yohanand around, what more in prefects this time. The LTC song we wrote, jamming sessions, Sixth Form Night, ping-pong matches, CF; they were all good. Bernard was also my company when I was in LSS5 initially before I changed to art stream. Not forgetting Boon Ann, whom I met in LSS5 and gradually developed a good friendship. I will never forget watching Euro 2008 with him and eating "tong sui kai" food about 3am in the morning. Again, Kumara was around in Form 6, and we had alot of good times. He also tried to get me more into scouting but failed miserably. I just hope I do not lose these friends in years to come.

Adrian also appeared in Form 6. Surprisingly, he was one of the earliest friends I have since Standard 1. Although we were not close, I've always bullied him back then. And even now. Haha. In Form 6, the friendship was built when I changed to Arts stream. With the foundations laid long ago, and being the only few pure Michaelians in the class, it wasn't much of a problem to bond. Class hours, DotA times, songs we shared, chicks we watched, moments in tuition, and chuch activities will always be a part of me I will not erase.

Of course, not forgetting to mention, there's always the church bunch I hanged out with. The childhood friends of mine. Andrew Chun and Vincent were the closest friends I had back then. Almost all the weekends we spent together in church activities and the like; youth meetings, Sunday services, church slumbers, outreaches, our very own sleepovers and various activities. We worked together so often that there was mutual understanding between us. We knew each other's characters inside out. Andrew's in UK now, not hearing from him lately. Vincent, after going off to Nilai, was no longer so close to us. But every once in awhile, when I see him during his breaks, we find that the old is not gone. And when this group of close, childhood buddies moved on, new ones also appeared. These people are the likes of Glenn, Steven, Kian Aun and the bunch I hang out with now. Though we are close in certain ways, the friendship is still very different from the ones I've built long ago. But in time to come, they will also eventually grow to become like those; but again, I have to bear in mind that just like myself, the next phase of life is awaiting some of them.

I regret, I blame myself for not maintaining the friendships I had. As much as I try, I'm a person who lacks initiative. I find it hard to keep constant contact with people, especially if they are far off. However, I'm trying now because I do not want to let my friendships fall along the walk of life again. The few close ones I still have, I'll fight for life to keep them. So, do not be afraid, or feel weird, if I pm you often in MSN or you suddenly receive my SMS one day. It's just because I want to know how you're doing. It's just because the friendship means something to me.

And after all that has been said and done, I find myself alone right now. Yes, the few close friends I have are still close to me in certain ways, especially when we meet up. But they are scattered all over Malaysia, in fact, the world, and things are different when you don't get to see each other that often. Currently, I'm going through another phase of life. But unlike the phases of life I've passed, I'm not able to build any close friendships like I did before. Maybe (hopefully) when I look back in a few years time, I can blog about the close friends I made in university life. For now, I'm just another lonesome dude living in solitude.

And solitude is good...

Friday, April 10, 2009

Freedom Hangs Like Heaven Over Everyone


Try reading this. My attention span in studies is short; I couldn't spend more than 5 mins reading a paragraph. I'm going back to Ipoh soon (very)! I wish to express certain things bugging me but my blog is rigged; ultimate truths about myself often have to be supressed. Today will be history; it might be the only few times I ever step foot into Dewan Makan for breakfast. I would say it was a great week; futsal the other day was great and assignments are finally over.

Okay, that sucked. Sorry for the feeble attempt in writing a post with random sentences that don't relate to each other. Apologies for tormenting your weak minds. The blogging begins now. I couldn't sleep, didn't want to sleep, and so decided not to sleep. Tried reading Public Administration but I ended up here eventually. This is the first time I actually turn to my blog as the remedy for boredom; a fair remedy I would say.

The contents of this post were never intended. I had initially wanted to write a no-brainer. But I stumbled upon something intriguing as my post began to build itself with every sentence I wrote. These four sentences (including this) were written after the completion of this post, so here goes. As mentioned above, there are certain things I would like to blog about. But it is not within my capacity to do so. There is a misconception of freedom in blogging. People argue (and I for one argued too) that one's blog is entirely one's realm. What I choose to blog is totally up to my own discretion. Unfortunately, in the early hours of a Friday morning, I discovered it the hard way; freedom cannot co-exist with blogging. It's either or; one or the other.

I felt tempted, in fact, compelled, to write certain things but having in mind the people who might read this post and the consequences that might follow, my deepest thoughts, again, have to be bottled up. I did; I failed on countless occasions. Without taking into consideration the people who might be reading my blog, I exercised the "freedom" I thought I possess as the master of my blog. Call me impulsive. I made a stupid statement to my brother the other day. When we were discussing some of the things I blogged, I told him I never expected people to read my blog. It was only after that, that I realised how foolish I was in making a statement as such. I remember my other brother told me once, if what I wrote wasn't intended for anyone; if it's merely my self expressions, it would have been better off if I wrote it on a piece of paper, or somewhere only mine eyes would have access to them.

The blog is not an avenue for one to express himself. You can beg to differ, you can argue, you can justify your argument in many ways. But I will remain convicted; not budging; to this fact: Blogging comes with a price; and that price is the freedom of expression. A true blogger is a man in jail; he hath not freedom. Blogging is a public display of yourself. It's a declaration of your willingness to share your thoughts with the world. But the minute you begin blogging, readers that come with it have to be anticipated. And for every word you type, these people have to stay in the back of your sweet mind. In truth, the readers are the actual authors of the blog, in that they eventually decide the end product of every post. Blogging is, in fact, very much a performance. And like every other performance, you wouldn't want to disappoint your audience.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

This is just another one of those days where you stare at the screen and your mind goes blank.

Sunday, April 05, 2009

Pinch Me

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I Corinthians 13:4-7



Love defined who I am today.

Though I may no longer see, hear, or feel love,

Nor love, in return;

I will always remember,

Man is possible of love;

Because you showed me,

You were that love.



Dad

26.4.1938 - 5.4.2001


Always In Loving Memory.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

d reluctant guitarist


jus a post 2 destress (altho ive oni spent 15 mins readin macro) n bcs i felt like updatin d blog. ntg interesting bt go ahead.

im a music fanatic. i love all (if nt, most) genres. mor inclined 2 indie rock, jazz, folk, country, reggae, classical, oldies, piano pieces, instrumental, rock&roll n funk. alternativ, mainstream, hiphop, n soul r alrite. nt a big fan of punk, sentimental, techno, boybands, or christian bands. currently, im addicted 2 metal. im obsessed. its various styles n myriads of techniques enslave me. im a metal whore. u name it, i hav it - metalllica, s.o.a.d, jimi hendrix, iron maiden, van halen, malmsteen, mastodon, pantera, rammstein, led zep, rise against, axel rudi pell, strung out, judas priest, elvenking, joe sat. metallica stil tops my list; yet 2 check out megadeth tho.

i started playin d guitar at d age of 13 n had alwis focused on rhythm (chords) n all. nvr reli learnt scales or theories. bcs of dat, i gt so tired of it; yet i contd playin even afta pickin up drums. twas durin d recent youth rally wher i was on d electric dat i subconsciously reignited my love 4 dis instrument. ive alwis tot dat d guitar's nt my passion. ive alwis maintained dat drums r. it's a lie. i was in a state of denial. 2day, i proved myself wrong. d guitar's my 1st love, my passion, n alwis wil b. i love tempo n beats, bt ntg beats a good guitar solo. ive wasted all dese years oni 2 discover now, im jus an amateur w d electric. im ashamed 2 tel ppl dat ive played d guitar 4 so long. n so, come dis sem break, im goin 2 work 2 gt my own electric guitar. it's time 2 improve. my electric journey began late 2008. dis baby wil grow; u'll c.

sidetrack, ive made a point nt 2 serve w my musical abilities as long as i don set things rite. if i cant play in d spirit, i shall nt play; until i learn 2 worship w an instrument. so, it's a sabbathical 4 me; wen guitars or drums r concerned in d spiritual realm. bt in d secular world, i can lose myself in d indulgence of pure pleasure, enjoyment, n self-satisfaction in music playin. i can unleash my hedonistic musical nature.

p/s: ive a habit of typin in proper sentences wen i blog/sms bcs i jus dislike d msn language thingy. weird, bt dats me. i took d extra effort 2 blog in dis style; trust me, it's nt easy 4 me. ive 2 go over d whole text again 2 make sur evryth's in msn language. it's horrendous; bt oh wel, it's worth tryin.