Interlude: For A Better New Day

When you stay up for a day or two straight, the days begin to meld into one another. Not having awakening as a key to when the next day is, all you have to go by is your preconcieved notions of dawn. When it gets light out, there. That's the new day.


My friend and I invented a less confusing system than the "midnight as beginning of the new day" one currently in place by our damn Earth's rotation around the sun. See, the beginning to each new day is relative to each individual. When you wake up is when the new day has begun, not at midnight. Because who goes to sleep before midnight anymore? Maybe there is but it gets to me when you talk to someone after midnight about doing something tomorrow, and they get all smart-ass on you and say "You mean today ha ha ha ha ha". Nope. Not anymore. Tomorrow begins when you awake. And in the aforementioned case of staying up all night, the new day will officially begin at 6:00 AM, as this is around when the sun rises. Only the smart-aleck who feel the need to meticulously argue about stupid inane details will find this new system difficult. But we don't like talking to those people anyway, now do we?

One more thing. Why is it that it's a penny for your thoughts, but if one desires to put forth their opinion it is referred to as their two cents? The price doubles based on who wants the opinion to be given? Sounds like a scam to me. But, again, we don't want to talk about those things either, do we?

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to not sleeping. Gotta run. Good night.

Dawning Exposure

I'm having a little trouble writing right now. I wish I could come up with some interesting excuse as to why. Oh yeah, I’m a little bored and I can’t sleep. Random thoughts about certain topics makes me go on and on writing till I think it’s distracting for people to read it and thus I need to press the delete button. Very distracting. Yep.

Hmm…. Let me think. Still thinking. Ok, got it. Here’s one for the road. The least metaphoric way that I could conjure of at this time of the day.

I’ve been thinking about Plato's forms lately. The idea that every thing that we see in our lives is an imperfect representation of some ideal thing and that somewhere in the universe there exists the perfect thing got me thinking': What would the perfect table be like?


Think about it: Tables serve their purpose well enough in their imperfect phase. You put stuff on it. Sometimes you eat off of it. That's it. The perfect table would likely not have a single scratch or dent or loose leg. It wouldn't get stained if something spilled on it. Most of the tables I’ve seen and used day to day are quite messy because I'm lazy and set shit on it. The perfect table would never be messy. Or would it? The table itself is not involved with the stuff that's on it. In a perfect WORLD, the table would never be messy, however it is simply the table itself that is messy. Would you even notice if it was a perfect table? I don't think about tables as much as this blog might make it seem, so I may be typing on the perfect table right now and not even realize it. This particular table has some scratches and dents and minor little ticks and whatnot, so this couldn't be it, but that's beside the point. If the perfect table were here on Earth somewhere, we probably wouldn't even know it. People ignore tables for the most part. The perfect table wouldn't be particularly impressive. No one would stop and realize "That table is perfect!" and meant it literally perfect!

The human mind could probably not comprehend the perfect table. Perfection is something we cannot understand because everything we come into contact with is imperfect. Plus, who wants the perfect table? Imperfect tables serve their purpose; having a perfect table would just be like having fine china that you never want to use. Or maybe since I can't comprehend the perfect table, if I were to experience it in all its glory, I would be in awe and finally realize what it means to be a table and the table-oriented part of my life would be complete.

In closing, sit with this question: Can you define "table"?

Fire Wind Water Earth

I’ve been out of sorts since I wrote my last post so pardon me for not updating this blog of mine. It’s been hard these past six weeks or so and I’m not going to lie about it. Devastated. That’s the word. I’ve learnt to accept it (I’m trying my very best! ☺)since and now the sweetest memories keep playing in my head. There’s a lot of things in my head where I’d love to share… for this mind keeps working and working that I’m unable to even sleep properly but I’ll just leave it on my book of thoughts for now. Oh yes, I do have a book just for my thoughts.

I just got to write. Write anything that I see or hear that I can reflect on. That doesn’t mean I write everything I see or hear every day. Oh no. What I do is to self edit myself what I’ve seen or hear and just pick out the small little ‘grey area’, which we normally miss out. Try it. It’s pretty tedious and boring at first but when you can connect it to your life, the satisfaction I can’t even express it through words.



I have this feeling that everyone who reads this blog knows me better than people I've actually met. Good friends of mine know me pretty well because I open up to them and basically do a live-action verbal version of this blog in real time in front of them. But there are lots of people who I talk to for a day at most and then move on, and realize they now hold this impression of me, which may or may not be accurate. As I often tend to do, I could branch off into some bullshit self-questioning "Who am I?" hoopla, but I think I'll save that for later. I may not fully understand my person, but I understand better than some I meet day to day. This is mainly because I cannot really translate my personality to other people beyond simply being. On top of that, why should I?

However, this blog is pure "self". That's what's here: Me. And I'm less inhibited here because this is text, who gives a shit. I've met very few of you people, and those that I have are already friends of mine and I have a comfort level already to express myself. It's not even a comfort issue, per se, because I'm pretty comfortable in front of people, but more so the fact that there are many facets of myself that can get lost in a false first impression. I don't want to give myself away completely, or even at all to most people. Maybe. Maybe I do only tell you what I want you to hear and believe me, the same goes to you.

As for the title, the four ‘words ‘ are all up above. Digress it. ;)

For I Wish And Pretend

“And it seems like yesterday it was just a dream…” B.o.B


It was not since mid March that I last wrote in this little box. It is no longer March; in fact, April is ending soon. This little box begs for letters to be in it… and I often don't comply with its wishes. It must be something incredibly exciting and resplendent to occupy my time such that I do not update this oft-abandoned blog, right? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.

I intend not to use this space simply to complain about the various things that have surfaced in my life recently. No, blogs are in no way intended to be used for petty bitching and empty negativity. No. So don't think of this particular entry as me being biased towards the melancholy. I simply need to express that which is currently troubling my gentle soul so as to prepare myself for better sailing ahead.

I guess I’m just worried sick. I have like things that constantly project themselves from my eyes and mind; they're kind of basically in command now. I recalled my mum was saying that yesterday was my late sister’s birthday. My late sister would have been 29 yesterday. I didn’t get the chance to see her and thus, I don’t have an image of her on my mind. And so, I wish and pretend. I pretend she is quite tall. Curly long hair. Big eyes with smile that just soften one’s heart in an instant. I pretend she would be the ideal elder sister. Someone that could inspire my two younger sisters and me. A role model. Huh. It’s easy to pretend something which we will never know but when we instill these thoughts to our mind, it gives the good vibes to one’s mind.

I don’t want to hope. Hope is something we humans will just cling on to the word. Like literally. And so, let me just wish and pretend things will be better in the next few days or weeks or so. For my dad and my family. For his health have not been the best at these tough times. For I miss his longing smile and his usual “high five” with my youngest sister. For I miss seeing his usual antics to ‘irritate’ my younger sister. For I miss his constant ranting whenever man utd play badly. For I miss his laughter when mum gets over excited and shout enthusiastically watching soccer. And for all that and more, I wish to see all that back. Perhaps, if my elder sister is still alive, she could handle this better than I am.

For now, let me just wish and pretend.

Rage Within A Word

Conformity. What a controversial word. Let's look it up shall we?

con•form•i•ty Audio pronunciation of "conformity" ( P ) Pronunciation Key (kn-fôrm-t)
n. pl. con•form•i•ties

1. Similarity in form or character; agreement: I acted in conformity with my principles.
2. Action or behavior in correspondence with socially accepted standards, conventions, rules, or laws: conformity to university regulations.

There ain't a damn thing wrong with conforming, just know when you're doing it at least. It's the whole, once you know the rules you can break them sort of thing. So you can be cliche, as long as you apologize for it. Where the hell am I going with all this? I better stop here. heh.

On Petrol and Chlorine

“Don’t go and play with the kids at the playground. They are ********.”

“We are *********. We don’t mix with those people.”

“Excuse me but I’m *********. I can’t be here!”

How someone looks, as opposed to what someone truly is, seems to be the card that lets them act in accordance with certain cultural idiosyncrasies.

As it turns out, race has nothing to do with blood and everything to do with aesthetic. Yet, rightly so – it’s the same blood across the board, right? But once upon a time there were a bunch of people living in Africa. The sun was hot and their skin got dark. Simple. Race is just the effect, both internal and external, a certain environment has on a certain group of people. There's a reason chinese have slits for eyes. Then our brain, which is very adept at picking up on patterns and grouping them, picks up on these differences so that everybody who looks a certain way is classified as being a certain race. Yet, take the eurasians who doesn't quite look the part and all of the sudden, a wrench has been thrown in the whole system. Holy shit what do we do? How should he act? It just goes to show how race is a blurred line to begin with.

In reality, race doesn't even exist. It cannot be tested for in the lab. And race in its most applicable form is semantics at the very most. In all technically, if more european and chinese came together and had enough children, they could be classified as a race. Not eurasians. Maybe eurochin. Maybe not.



The thing is I just don't agree with the way certain people tend to emphasize on race. What’s there to brag about of your race? Race is not something to be proud of, culture is. Being proud of one's own race is like saying, "hey I look different than you, go me!" And race is not to be confused with culture. Race has nothing to do with culture, they just understandably go together many times. As far as someone representing for his or her own culture, well, then it becomes a matter of how long one wants to perpetuate the imaginary lines that divide the human race for the sake of staying true to his or her own heritage. I'm looking at you, people. Can you please stop accusing people for being loud just because of their colour? Can you please stop looking down on people just because of their race? Can you please stop being so proud of your race?

The world may not be colour blind but it should be. And I don't mean that in some sort of idealistic sense, because I don't like that kind of pansy talk. I mean it in a genetic sense. I've often felt that many times, people are too quick to turn this planet into poetry; applying symbols to things and stopping at that, when reality rigidly unfolds to far greater depths. Yet it’s hard to find words to rhyme with "quantum" and "neutrino". Race is just another example of how people all too often stop digging when confronted by symbolism and appearance. And I know all this sounds like some sort of sec school rant on appearance vs. reality, but you know what… give me back my squeaky voice, give me back my pimples. We're all humans here.

Random Thought

To not question is to doubt - by not questioning, you are in acknowledgment that if you did question, a contradictory answer that is not pleasing may be found and therefore, doubt by not questioning in the first place.