the reason

Many things happened lately. I can't even begin to describe the intensity of the experiences I went through. So, let me start by saying that I am not a perfect person. There were many things that I shouldn't have done and I will continue to face limitless breakdowns. This is something that I live with everyday, forever. Mistakes and failures will occur without warning. I will be hurt, rejected, disappointed, ridiculed and left behind. But this is good news because I then have an opportunity to improve and to grow. Life cannot be more fulfilling than this. Everything that I do, I am passionate about it. Accidents don't happen. All events occur for a reason. The problem is that not every person gets the messages urgently and takes them seriously. So we go through life leaping from one life boat to another. Nothing spectacular happens because "I am not good enough".

As for me, life is great. I have never felt so much of pain than in the last few days, but life is still great. Even with my imperfections, I will give, love and care for everyone.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day, my friends before we are fed to the fishes in the sea.

it's all coming back

If I have to choose one person other than my parents, one person who shaped my mind and personality; it will be the lady who offered me M & M's and chocolates every time I visited her. She always kept a bottle of the colourful-chocolate-pebbles in her office. Whenever I ran to her for help regarding school work or just to chat, she passed me the bottle.

She showered me with kindness when no one cared or worse, they thought poorly of me. I was ostracized because I was unattractively me. I didn't try to be like them.

Many years lapsed since I left school but memories of her are engraved onto every cel in my body. In fact, when the ride is rough, her kindess and compassion kept me going. Deep down, I know that once upon a time, a nerdy and constantly baffled teenager was salvaged by a caring teacher.

She didn't only teach me law, but she showed to me how to be a person of integrity. There was an incident that brought to light the bulwark of fairness. She protected me against a group of teachers who shamelessly joked about a self-made Teacher's Day card I gave her. Somehow, a law student can't giver her teacher a card of love and appreciation. It became the talk of the town, for reasons I never understood. It was branded "uncool", I was told.

The fabulous news is that she liked the card. I was happy. Not only because she defended me and as a result infuriated her colleagues, but because she stood up for what she believed was right.

We drifted apart after I graduated. I don't know why. Although I talk and think of her regularly. I reckon I praised her endlessly in front of many of my friends. By chance, a classmate of mine met her at a law conference. My name was being mentioned and she remembers nearly everything about me.

It is all coming back now. Time to pick-up the telephone. She no longer lives in my past. I feel her presence once more.

starry poster

star lab

I went for a haircut. My hair is very short now. It happens every six months or so. I have the habit of letting it grow and when I am irritated, crop crop crop.

Ah! Look at the food and how I gracefully attack them. But the point of this photo is my unkempt hair. Yes, I do resemble Hong Kong veteran actress / host, Lydia Sum. (Not anymore)

*************

These will be used as promotional material during the short film festival.

Good luck!

starry starry night

Our short film titled Twinkle Twinkle Big Big Star reached the finals. We will be competing against 7 other finalists this Sunday, August 13th. I look forward to seeing what happens in the end. I used to believe that it does not matter if no one else watches the films I produce or a piece of art I create. Now I realised that this is purely a politically correct statement. Not that it matters - it is not a question of whether it matters or not - but it feels like standing naked in front of a group of strangers. People who would either love, hate or ignore your work. The film-makers are judged and analysed by critics and everyone. What is produced on screen reflects the soul of the makers. I am curious. Is that really me?

simplicity

Sometimes what lies ahead can be frightening. The legs are heavy therefore, movement is impossible. Fear creeps in and the stomach knots in to a fist. As the cobra extends its hood like wings, every nerve of your body tensed into rigidity. One strike and it is over. You feel its paralysing venom sipping into your blood.

But what do you do when a King Cobra coincides face to face with you?

"Dad, it’s a snake."

"Ssshs! Shut-up, Sean. And don't move!” Mitch warned his son.

Five-year-old Sean looked curiously at his father who was weltered in sweat. His entire body weight was resting on his elbows. After 5 minutes he had problems fixing on one position. He started to tumble to the side. However, his eyes never left the piercing cold stare of the cobra. Its forked-tongue vibrating to a faint "hsss".

"Can we keep him as a pet?"

"Sean, if you don't shut the f*** up, we will die!"

"Why?"

"Because the slightest wrong move will anger the snake to attack us!"

"Then we make him happy. I will give him my candy bar."

Sean immediately pulled out a packet of sweets from his pocket and waved it in front of the snake.

"Dad, Mr. Snake likes candies." he giggles.

"Put that down and stop moving!" His muscles tightened as he tried to stop Sean from getting up.

But something long and slippery that glided over his legs halted him.

"I am going to die!" he screamed and pushed Sean away. He lay flat on the floor and watched the cobra swim between Sean and him.

Its head suddenly jerked-up preparing to seal Mitch’s fate. There was no time for Mitch to say his last prayers and to think of his son. He didn’t want to die.

However the cobra was behaving strangely. Instead of crunching its fangs into Mitch’s flash, it hovered above his chest in a ceremonial fashion as if to make fun of him. It slowly rotates its upper body to look at Sean.

Mitch released a sigh of relief. “Anyone but me,” he thought.

He turned his head to watch the cobra swaying left and right in front of Sean. Sean laughed and played with it as if the lethal reptile was made of rubber. There was not a splinter of fear in his eyes. The camaraderie lasted for a few minutes.

The cobra puts an end to delicate swinging. It erected its body to full attention. Sean extended his hand to touch its head and simultaneously, the cobra politely bowed at him.

As fast as lightning, the cobra swiveled around to face Mitch. Its menacing forked-tongue pulsated before his nose.

“Hsssss…heartless coward…hsssss!” were heard escaping from its tongue.

The cobra gently slithered out of the store room. Mitch believed that he had imagined hearing the snake speak to him. The impending danger must have caused him to hallucinate.

"Shiva,” Sean said.

“What?”

“Mr. Snake told me his name is Shiva.”

adventure

Slumber:
I am so tired now I could sleep while typing. But a strange energy is keeping me awake to complete this posting. I would also like to find out how much better I can express myself this way.

Clarks:
I said goodbye to my pair of sandals. They walked many difficult and yet memorable paths and finally retired . My feet were well protected except from splashes of falling water from the sky. Many stories could be told from a pair of shoes. I wonder what were mine. Maybe I will pay closer attention to the new protector.

Dinner:
We had seafood ranging from delicious butter & cheese crab to clams. There were four of us; good company is the real flavour of food.

Music:
I am listening to Taiwan's everlasting singer, Cai Qin. This album is a soundtrack of a Taiwanese stage play. She sings and narrates certain parts of the play. Her deep voice keeps things simple, just like Chinese words. A single character is sufficient to tell an entire epic.

Blanket:
It is time to rest. Good night.

twinkle2 big2 star

As I was looking through the photographs, I noticed how much fun we had making this short film. There were not many high-tech equiptments and sophisticated lighting. In fact, we were stripped to the bare minimum. However, what we had were solid acting and a reasonably workable script. Not to forget, our cinematographer tried so hard to get the best angle possible. His dedication and seriousness attracted all of our admiration for him.

There is always the issue of not having enough time. Despite working under quite stringent circumstances, every actor gave his and her best performance. It was amazing. Some acted for the first time but this did not prevent their talent from surfacing. Even when asked to perform some rather challenging acts, not one actor turned down the request and said, "No!". The enthusiasm and strength shown by everyone involved are the driving force behind this film.

The explosion - I didn't mean to blow-up that night and I don't think I can or should give any excuses for doing so. It was no one's fault, honest. There are many ways to discussing an issue. So, my sincere apologies.

I hope that we can work on another project soon. Thank you very much. This is our film.

PS: Click on the picture for its larger version.

2 days

Everything is Illuminated or is it?

Two more days before I receive the photos. I intend to create a collage and post it here and I will write about what happened. It is a note of thanks and an explanation. I am not perfect and I have my bad moments. These moments are a nightmare for some and maybe others would symphatise. Not everything occurs for a reason that is comprehensible. For the time being, I will keep mum. When an answer is demanded from me openly or implicitly, it makes things very difficult as I already have plans to deal with the issue. I care for the project and a lot more for the people involved than anybody can understand. So it does hurt very much. Two more days and I hope I can provide for everyone a satisfactory answer.

api

When you go to a sushi bar, do you pay attention to the cooks who diligently make the sushi that circulate on the kaitan belt? Your eyes are busy scouting for your favourite sushi, while the hands are reaching for a can of wasabi and the head is thinking about school work, unpaid credit card bills or the latest movie. If not, you are busy chatting away with friends.

It is not weird or unacceptable to smile at the cooks and to notice how swiftly their fingers dance; stuffing rice into a piece of folded sea-weed. Their eyes concentrating on how the salmon should be arranged neatly.

My sis and I frequent a local sushi bar and it is a popular chain-store in KL. On one faithful day we made friends with a sushi chef. Something in the way she moved and crafted the sushi captured our attention. She was fast and yet precise, firm and at the same time gentle. From the instructions she issued, it was clear that she ranked higher than the other cooks. No matter how seriously she focused on her work, her voice and demeanour was always polite. She seemed rather strict and we tried our best to smile at her. She smiled back.

From that moment, we became her supporters. It is amazing how she responds to us each time we eat there. We know her name because she wore a name tag. Nevertheless, she doesn't know ours until now. We never had any formal conversation other than "Hi and bye".

The special treatment started on the third time we met her at the same sushi joint. We couldn't see her from outside and wondered if she was at work. So we asked the receptionist if she was in. To my surprise the receptionist said she was and immediately took off like an arrow into the kitchen to inform our special chef that some girls were there to see her.

I looked at my sis and we both hoped that we could each put on a mask to cover our faces. Left with no choice we sat down around the kaitan belt wondering if our chef would be angry with us. To be honest, we are not her friends. We were just regular customers and she does not own the sushi joint. She works there. She might not like to be disturbed.

Before we could device a plan, the kitchen door flung opened and there comes our special chef stretching her neck finding the girls who asked for her. At that point, I knew she didn't recognise us but I thought it was rude if I didn't surrender myself.

Feeling a gush of blood to my cheeks, I raised my hand to wave at her. She immediately spotted me and charmed who I was. She smiled and said "Hi!". My sis was laughing and covering her face with the menu. By way of gesture, she asked who was that giggling and hiding. I pulled down the menu and she exclaimed, "Oh!" and smiled cheerfully to my sis. She signaled to us that she was busy in the kitchen but would come out later. Actually, we were relieved that she was not annoyed.

We placed our orders and while enjoying our sukiyaki beef, she came out from the kitchen and made her way to behind the kaitan belt. She asked with a smile on her face, "Two California temaki hand rolls and one nishoku special?" We nodded with joy like kids who have been given two big bags of sweets.

The hidden message that we will only eat the hand rolls and nishoku she made reached her by unknown methods. I don't know how and why but she naturally gave us personal attention every time we hop in. She would take time off from her kitchen work to attend to us. After that, she goes back into the kitchen. We hardly talk to her. We only smile and smile and smile. That was miraculously enough to initiate a meaningful relationship!

We will tell her face to face that she is very nice. The hand rolls and sushi that she customised for us taste juicier and sweeter because she has a kind heart.

I know that you pay for the food. However, I hope the next time you walk into a eating-place, appreciate the cook who prepares your food. You will never know what surprises will spring-up at you.

Happy eating!

hands

It is irritating when a group of young male adults sitting near you start talking in a foreign language. They do not only talk but giggle, joked and make funny faces; in a fashion that you can guess they were dishonouring another person from their gestures and tone of voice. The question is who were they teasing?

Since you couldn’t understand a word they colourfully expressed and being the only person within their target area, you feel threatened. At that point of time you wish that English wasn’t the only language you spoke in an Asian country.

I know it is unfair for me to judge the three boys and conclude that they were gossiping about me in an unknown tongue. I should perhaps blame in on the fact that I didn’t learn their language well at school.

But then they were looking at me with such disturbing eyes and the smirk on their faces told everything about their speech. Maybe they didn’t like my “Superman” logo t-shirt.

Furthermore when someone is talking about you, the little voice in your heart buzzes your senses. You just know it. Has it not happened to you before?

What else could I do but to play dumb?

I continued reading for the rest of the journey. However I was deviously watching their reflections from the window. I couldn’t see very much but they didn’t stop their pranks for one second. The chubby boy kept pushing his skinny friend’s head or performing other childish acts. The nerdy-looking boy was trying hard to keep-up with his friends’ domineering actions. One could tell that he was slower.

Although I found them annoying at the beginning, after observing their silly mimics and foolish chatters, they were only having fun.

We arrived at the station. I stepped out of the train as fast as I could. There was a short set of steps leading from the platform to the turnstile where we lodge our tickets.

As I took the last step I heard their laughter and turned to look. That was when I realized the nerdy-looking boy was a polio victim. His legs were incredibly thin and his feet curved in. From the back, his pair of legs seemed like twisted wires. He had troubles walking. Each step he took, his entire hip swayed either to the left or right. To keep balanced, both his hands have to be extended out to the side.

He was standing at the top of the steps and there was no way he could descend without falling over. The chubby friend spontaneously gave him a helping hand and with ease, the two friends walked pass me.

I smiled. It was a beautiful night and a magical moment.

starz

Peter meets a lady. He is 23 and she is 38. Their eyes zap together and they couldn’t let go of each other. Is it purely a physical attraction that leads to nothing more than what is inside the pants or something mysterious is working?

Doreen meets a man. She is 27 and he is 40. There is instant bonding. Trust me that many will conclude she is eyeing for the money if he is rich and he is waiting for the body if she is drop dead gorgeous. Can there not be true love?

Love is difficult to define. Perhaps it is not even meant to be defined. It is an overpowering emotion that makes life real. Why is it that one needs to define love?

Because we firstly need to explain to family and friends the reason we love a particular person. Then the person we love demands to know why we love. And finally we need to psychologically appease ourselves by converting feelings into words. Words with prescribed meanings just like the ones I am using to type this essay. These words give to us the security of something we know, a familiar ground to tread on.

Can words truly elucidate what I feel and can you sincerely understand what I feel through many coatings of conditioned words? Can you read without judging? Can I write without judging?

We have a neat filing system in our minds. Who we love and who we only like. The line is distinctively drawn for one cause; to protect ourselves.

The conditions set us into tin soldiers. Why, how, which, who and what we love is pre-determined by words; words that contain the mandate of the society and society teaches us the right way to behave.

How else do we know the way to rationalize our feelings? How to calm raving emotions?

Someone told me once, “You don’t love me. You only love an image of me. If you get to know me and see who I am, you probably won’t love me as much.”

I tell you that it is not a fact. Nothing is immutable. Everything changes constantly. You can’t quantify love or bottle it up in a container. To love you have to give and must not be afraid to be hurt. You have to move on.

Have you ever held someone in your arms and feel love?

XXXXXX XXXX

It was surprisingly quiet on the train for a Friday night. The regular “gung gang gung gang” and “eeeek iiiiikk tishhhhhhh” were barely audible. Maybe the train engine was tired like many of the passengers. Its usual concerto left trails that could easily go missing if one didn’t pay attention. I somewhat felt relieved because I wanted to be left alone that night.

But still I couldn’t help to pay discreet consideration to the man sitting opposite. He was reading newspapers and will occasionally give me a glance or two. He resembles an overweight Hulk. The fuzzy hair and protruding bushy eyebrows carved a near perfect visual of the Hulk from the TV series. Instead of bulging muscles, this sumo-Hulk was draped in layers and layers of fat. His pants were incredibly tight as if they would bust any minute snapping the “Dunhill” belt. I just saw a buckle landing on my head.

I must clarify that he was not green but slightly tanned. It is not common for oversized green-men to roam the train. We normally have tiny green-men that fit in the pockets, known as Toyol. They are used in the practice of black magic and mainly created to perform mischief like stealing small items or to temporary blind the opponents in a game of poker. They are not to be seen by others except their owner.

I agree that one must not think less of another. It is asking to be slapped in the face by the same kind of judgement. As I was busy comparing sizes between Mr. Hulk and Baby Toyol, a tall and slim young lady appeared from nowhere and sat next to me. I was forced to put my bag on the floor. I was slightly irritated. Ms. Slim flashed the most charming smile. I ought to return the friendliness with a smile too but I casually ran my eyes over the rows of empty seats.

It was then when Mr. Hulk’s overflowing stomach caught my attention. He was trying so hard to hold his breath. Somehow he funnily believes that if he stopped breathing his flabby tummy would disappear and two lumps of chest muscles would instantaneously grow. This will definitely impress Ms. Slim.

My focus reverted to Ms. Slim again. She was waiting for a chance to talk to me but I ignored her. It was 11.40pm and all I wanted to do was to hibernate. Music continued to blast from the portable MP3 player into my ears. She was getting impatient, I could tell.

Finally, Ms. Slim made her first move. She passed me a piece of A4-sized-paper. The most infuriating words were clearly typed in bold.

DO YOU WANT TO LOSE WEIGHT THE HEALTHY WAY? TRY XXXXXX XXXX! I CAN HELP YOU.

I admit that I need to shed some pounds but not this way, no matter how healthy. I hate to fall prey to aggressive sales strategy. It was approaching midnight and Ms. Slim should understand that to force a piece of paper into the face of a person who wishes not to talk is rude.

I took the piece of paper but didn’t feel the need to talk to a person who lacks courtesy. I searched for a pen and with it scribbled one word. “NO!” Immediately, I fished out a book and started to read. Ms. Slim sat around for five more minutes pondering upon her next step. She was indeed smart because she got up and sat next to Mr. Hulk instead of trying her luck with me one more time. It was appropriate as Mr. Hulk was about to faint from not inhaling.

Suddenly, Mr. Hulk’s stomach became two inches smaller. He listened in awe to Ms. Slim and thought she was a gift from heaven. He was glowing with pride because at last, big does equal to sexy until Ms. Slim showed him the XXXXXX XXXX product catalogue. “LOSE WEIGHT THE HEALTHY WAY” was etched on the cover of the catalogue folder. The stomach-hold gave way at once.

Three more stops before the final destination. I might as well enjoy the rest of the journey. The “gung gang gung gang” and “eeeek iiiiikk tishhhhhhh” are the best companions.

grrr

I am angry. I wrote an article that I am quite happy with but it got lost in transit. This the second time it has happened in two weeks.

The next time I plan to write in greater length, I will first write it on Word and then transfer it here - cut and paste.

digest

Food is delicious when hugry. Not so much the source of nutrients, as it becomes a nourishment for the soul. The stomach is empty of substance; just like we will only fill a cup with water when it is empty, we don't over-stuff our stomach when it is full. Very often we satisfy our desires to binge more than our need to eat for energy.

Anger causes one to devour high volumes of food. Perhaps it may not be a physicial intake of edibles but it consumes emotion-pancakes-and-chocolates.

dash

People have opinions about everything. They are curious and curiosity leads them to investigate, explore, deduce, assume and finally conclude. This is how a conversation sustains itself between two people or among a group of like-minded speakers. Every person has something to say about the same topic and it is hoped that the others willl agree.

Is there really a need to talk further if no one listens? Sometimes talking is a lonely process.

cute

Not in my life would I expect YOu would be the one to comment my excerpts were looonnng he he..

Sally

I admit that this reply does put a smile on my face.

teamwork

The Wise Fool speaks:

When one reads about everything under the sun, bad things happen inside the head. They get mixed-up like salad. All the information get tossed around but they are not as tasty as salad. In fact they become barely recognisable. You won't want to eat it.

You see, I tried to share whatever I have absorbed that I ended-up talking Greek. Literally, I did spill tales of Greek mythology that unfortunately should not be the case. Perhaps that's the way my mind works. It lacks proper systems and I never follow rules.

For once if I did prepare any notes please stick to them and don't divert. I wonder why do I do that? Sometimes changing the entire scheme works wonder but for yesterday it wasn't exactly a good idea.

The question is should I be loyal to my style or make proper changes to improve the situation? I bet that there are kind-hearted folks out there who admire my spontaneous delivery of knowledge that seem to be plucked from different cubicles. Others would be lost and confused and felt like swinging a chair at me.

I don't think any of these folks should decide how I present my talks. I decide. I am as stubborn as a mule. No, maybe just loyal to being me.

question

when was the last time you did something for another that is not out of keeping yourself happy and satisfied?

sincerity is like diluted soup and even the tongue forgets the taste of natural kindess.

if you have the ability to write, what story would you write about?

if the pen could master the mind perhaps its story is more realistic peeping into the darkness of man.

if a fact appeals to logic how true and absolute can it be?

when a child starves to death should logic dictate the soul to conduct a scientific analysis;

or does the the higher-self feel a dire need to help?

only when an act is not driven by a motivation to seek happiness but to serve,

true joy comes into being.

when was the last time you served?

unreliable temper

The Lonely Kid Speaks:

When things go wrong for one reason or another, I feel that it is me to be blamed. I shouldn't be too harsh but my anger flared like a rising tower and it is a fact. Maybe I should find out with certainty what causes the rage. Menstruation perhaps. Bad excuse.

It was time for me to watch some DVDs and I was hungry. So the step-mom was sweet and nice. She cooked a bowl of succulent and yummy noodles and delivered it right to the living room where I was engrossed in the show.

Oh! But I normally would like to add some garlic and soy sauce into the bowl of noodles. Furthermore she completely forgot to put in the cooked mushrooms and meat. I was looking at the bowl of boiling-hot noodles and asked myself why did she ever bring it out to me half done? I was feeling a tiny bit of heat in my stomach. So I paused the show for a while and ran to the kitchen with both sides of the bowl burning my fingers like inflamed iron bars. Very quickly I added the ingredients I wanted and prayed that the bowl won't slip from my hands when I double-back to the living room.

I didn't expect the step-mom to deliver the food to my face. I planned to fetch it from the kitchen with a tray after I added other stuff that would enhance the taste. At the same time I also wanted to make myself a cup of tea or something. Somehow this plan was ruined and I got pretty upset. I know that I shouldn't be but I was angry although I didn't take it out on her. I wouldn't have the heart to or the guts even.

However the Universe warns us with subtle signs about our misdeeds and ill-intentions. You can say it is purely coincidental but things that happen are not based only on the quantitative principle of cause and effect. Not everything can be reduced to following a few simple basic laws like gravity. Time in fact is not as linear as we think it is. Events don't follow one after another in an Indian file with a calculable connection.

What happened when I continued to watch the show was quite frightening. Remember I said that my fingers were nearly scalded by the bowl of noodles because I had to transport it to the kitchen and back? Well exactly as I played the DVD from the last scene, a man jumped into a tub of high-temperature water that badly peeled off the first 2 layers of his skin. Outch!

Then it hit me real hard that it was truly not necessary for me to feel upset over how the step-mom cared for me and always took good care of me. Screw the damn garlic and soy sauce!

And it did not stop there because when I had lunch with my dad at the food court the next day, all the foods I ordered didn't turn out that right. I told the lady I didn't want chili sauce but just the plain minced-bean sauce, she added chili sauce too. I ordered a bowl of up-size beef noodles and I was given a small. I eat at these stalls regularly. They know me quite well so they shouldn't make such mistakes. I order about the same thing every time.

I didn't make a single complain because I know it was meant to be this way. It was a lesson for me to learn.

waking nightmare

The Lonely Kid Speaks:

I had a bad dream last night. I descended into the abyss and I survived. I woke up smiling. It felt victorious.

But nothing prepared me for what I am facing now. Imagine not staying in a sound-proof room next to your parents'. The step-mom is drunk and I personally hate it. I tried to convince her to stop drinking so much. It's bad for her health and she looks terrible when drunk. She says things that irritate my dad. Speaking words that demean her morale just to tease or test your temper. Once in a while she will blurt out phrases to antagonise my dad. It made him so angry that he hit her. I don't know if he did it again tonight because she kept screaming and swearing that he did. Maybe she got confused and remembered the first time he hits her since her senses are totally uninhibited now. I hear hard knocks. I hear her sobbing her soul out. She is too drunk. I hate her for doing this. I hate my dad for allowing her to do this - to drown her blood in alcohol. I hate to hear those wrenching sounds that kill my passion for living and staying sane. I feel more than angry.

It is reminiscent of the times when my biological mother was alive. She was ill beyond the mind can ever comprehend. When the pain attacks at night, she would cry and scream too. Exactly the same laments I hear from the step-mom at this moment. When people lose their hope for living, they toss and turn on the floor, choking on their saliva and probably hope that a sharp object would pierce through their heart.

I can't believe that my dad could hit a woman. It makes me sick. I am not respecting him the same as before.

Don't worry. The Lonely Kid survives. The Lonely Kid finds comfort from facing life and accepting all the shit that comes. The Lonely Kid has dreams to fulfill.

All will be fine tomorrow. It can be dark here but the sun is shinning somewhere else.

Good night.