To Taka, with love

This afternoon, as I was going through the old box of personal mementoes my grand-aunt left behind, I cam upon an old, burnt photograph dated in the year 1939. It was taken during the second Sino-Japanese War. The figure on the picture was barely recongnizable, even as I showed it to my grandmother, who strained her eyes as she held the picture in her hands. She placed it on an antique table beside her rocking chair and smiled at me.

"He is your granduncle, Ichiro, my sister's husband" she replied.

"Grand uncle? But ah-ma, you never told me he was Japanese. You just said he died in the war."

"Yes, but then again, it happened so long ago. She wanted to become a doctor, and our father sent her to Japan to study, at that time their university was more prestigious than any other insitution in our own country. He was only a cadet in the Imperial Navy. They met in a hospital in Kyoto. She was an intern, and he was brought in because of a bullet wound. She treated him, and spent many days with him as he recovered. He was a cheerful, young man. Full of dreams and loyal to the ones he loved. He called her Taka, which means fragance Before he left for Indochina, he gave this to her, telling her to wait for him."

"So what happened?"

"As you know, the war dragged on longer than anyone of them expected. His ship was called back to the Pacific, to fight the Americans. He never made it back. She became a doctor in the city of Nagasaki, against the wishes of our father, who disowned her until his death. Her friends gave this to us when the war was over, and I have kept it ever since."

The perfect niche of the heartbreak kid

All right, let's face it. In the East chamber (this only refers to a handful of readers), I am NEVER the center of attraction, unless a joke is directed towards my fortified ego and dignity. Two people dominate and rule all diplomatic relationships with foreign envoys, including the HAREM of maidens, within and outside the fraternity.

They cajole, tease, and invoke giggles from girls. No, those are NOT girls. Their women, some are bimbos literally. Others are real women, who feel their clocks tick, who are adept at the flirting and manipulative game, who read too much and analyse too much. These women are in a nutshell....complicated. And I seriously lack the intellectual stamina to engage them seriously.

For once in a very long time, the annual company D&D was a smash. It only proved one thing, that elves like me, small and ageless can exploit a whole new game without being labelled cradle snatchers, or sugar daddies.

The realm of the young teenage chick.

From the time I was 16 until now, not a single asset of my facial features changed a bit, except for maybe the additional lipids and muscle tissue at certain concealed areas. As of now not a single soul who just got to know me can believe at one look that I am 23! It baffles me at how much of time's gravitational pull I have actually defied, but my methods at befriending members of the opposite sex have been refined over the years. Without those guys, (yeah those loudmouths who only know how to mock at you and tend to say the wrong thing at the wrong time), dispensing comments of flattery and actions of chilvary are just so uninhibited. I mean, their not even 20, but they look real HOT. What's more, at the end of the day, their so overwhelmed by your wit, they can't take their eyes off you.

I have that kind of effect, serious. Then again, any female above 22 can't give a damn.

Friday shrink....

Every friday night after class, I feel that I am losing my mind. It erodes away even as I panic, masticate my teeth, bite my nails, and sweat below the fluorescent table lamp in my room. I feel like a ravenous zombie who doesn't really know he should eat in the first place.

That is not supposed to be important if I adopt a more confident outlook to the problem, because this mouth of mine has gone miles, and my long Jordan tongue has casued tremors on the walls of Jericho. If I really mock at you, you will hate me to the core, for it bleeds non-stop. You can ask my closest buddies, they have been stung by its edges more than once. If I flatter you, you will be so delighted you will take me as your son, younger brother or even secret lover. It is not difficult to find such people, I meet them all the time.

When I see her, I really don't feel like saying anything. I just sit down in a corner and watch.

It makes no sense doing this when I should be walking straight up to her to charm her socks off, even if she's not wearing any. It really is pathologically dangerous. I wonder if my wires connected to my social animal were suddenly stolen. For once in ages, I feel scared, embarrassed, and dumb. No wonder the dodos were extinct, they couldn't take their eyes of rifle-totting Dutch colonists, who shot them all while they stood there like stunned statues.

I feel my weakness on fridays, and I can't help myself from loving every moment of it.

Diverging paths...only to meet again

I feel honored to be writing this entry, because for the first time in my distinguished career as a blogger, I am paying tribute to the woman who got me started in the first place-my penpal

Yes, technoahlian this is for you. I know its not much, so I promise I'll give you a better one when I am really rich and famous alright?

She called me today while I was making my way to the mailbox. It has been years since I heard from her, she used to be an online DJ, who enjoyed dishing out a myriad of techno on her playlist. I told her she sounded like Jamie Yeo, and she was cursing and complaining vigorously on air. Guess she hated to be compared to a bimbo. Then again I really felt she sounded like one.

On the other hand, her grey matter was an entirely different matter. She was blatantly honest in what she wrote and said, never mincing or hiding her opinions. They were enlightening, disturbing and even toxic on some occasions, but it was always a pleasure reading her rantings. She lived a life far more spatially and sexually liberal than mine, and she showed me in her own way what it meant to laugh and cry at yourself all at the same time. Coupled with the fact she could read and mimic male neroses and fantasies, it just made it all so randomly bewildering. I don't give a damn about how popular that xiaxue or what other immature imbecile has claimed more readers in the last few years. She started this shit way before the Magellans of this league circumnavigted cyberspace. A pity she left few records of her presence, otherwise there won't be so many phoney net goddesses around.

Finally, all my attempts at tracking her most recent whereabouts online proved totally futile. I exercised my last resort by dropping a message to the last email address she gave me, on the same day Joseph Ratzinger was elected Pope Benedict XVI. Before I knew it, we were once again catching up online and over my mobile.

This time, she sounded less like Jamie Yeo and punctuated her sentences with more vulgarities. What a gem, women her kind are getting extinct.

Personalities and Personas

You matched the following traits:
Conservative - You take a conservative stance on most issues and aren't shy about saying so. Your political views are an important component of who you are.
Outgoing - You can liven up any party. You've got a way with people and have little difficulty charming your dates.
Practical - You are a down-to-earth individual who is not impressed with material excess. You care about the stuff of life that really matters.


Your date match profile:
You match with women who have following traits:
Athletic - You aren't looking for a couch potato. You seek someone who is active and who keeps her body in top shape.
Traditional - You need someone who is a bit old-fashioned. A person with traditional values and beliefs will perfectly compliment your lifestyle.
Practical - You are drawn to people who are sensible and smart.
Flashy, materialistic people turn you off. You appreciate the simpler side of living

Your Top Ten Traits, Ranked
1. Conservative
2. Outgoing
3. Practical
4. Wealthy/Ambitious
5. Adventurous
6. Religious
7. Intellectual
8. Athletic
9. Sensual
10. Traditional

Your Top Ten Match Traits, Ranked
1. Athletic
2. Traditional
3. Practical
4. Funny
5. Religious
6. Intellectual
7. Conservative
8. Shy
9. Adventurous
10. Stylish

Take the Online Dating Personality Quiz at Dating Diversions

Severely misunderstood

"superficial attraction aka lust can only last till the feeling of sian-ness sets it...but 'feel' is different....'feel' is wat drives 2 person to marry each other...and take the vow to take care of the other partner for the rest of your life....well at least this theory holds for me...."-Mr H.

A quote like this tells a story. It is not an interesting one, but a viewpoint that represents the realistic majority, the mindset of a generation that has outgrown daydreams, infatuations and boyband worship. They rationalize anything that is felt so tangibly but perceived so out of the ordinary. Attraction, lust, and even "sian", they are feelings that our logical minds always attempt to refute but can never ignore. But is denial the cure? Can such impluses be resolved simply by putting equations together? Just because they can't be exchanged for material comfort, does this mean such things are simply not worth our time?

I never felt tired until I chose to walk away from it. That happened years ago, when I knew too little and she wanted to throw it all away. Still the same cycle of emotions played over and over, but I stopped second-guessing myself. It wasn't them, it was never their fault that I should think that way. What I knew I was going to feel became more predictable than their opinions of me. I experienced infatuation, lust and inspiration, then I realised after the second stage no one knew what I was talking about. They thought I was in love.

Love is NEVER a feeling, its a commitment, a sacrifice for an imperfect person who has touched every aspect of your personality and emotions. Feel is temporal, love goes on forever even when wrinkles,beer bellies, household bills and rebellious kids appear. You share everything, withold nothing. You embrace joy and suffering all at once, because you are a part of her, just as she is a part of you. We learn how to love before we put the ring on her finger, because we will be teaching others to do the same after that. So guys, if you see all of that in HER eyes the next time you go out, there is only one thing left to do.

"Hold on and never let her go."

.

Clown attacked by cultic monks
-1144pm 1304 2005

A stage clown was attacked by a band of Tibetan monks, while on his way home last night.

Doofus Maximus, a travelling gypsy clown, was on his way home after a performance at the Substation when five monks, dressed in robes of yellow and red, surroundered him at the junction across Peking Street. The comedian attempted to reason with them, assuming they were begging for alms. Instead, they asaulted him with wooden rods and metal sticks.

By the time local constables arrived on the scene, the victim was lying unconscious on the road, bleeding severely from the head and limbs. He was rushed to St Germaine's hospital for treatment, where surgeons had to stich up nine areas of his body, including his private parts. Brian Wong, CEO, of Substation, expressed his grief and anger at the incident.

"Doofus was an exemplary comedian. The jokes he made did not border on any religious sensitivities. What those monks did was totally inhumane," he said.

Prince Grizzly Long, a Tibetan studies scholar at the Naitonal University of Singapore has denied that the actions of the monks were motivated by religious sentiments or patriotic zeal. In his formal statement to the press this morning, he said, " I do not know these people, they must have been members of a new cultic sect"

Foreign officials from Tibet were not available for comment- Empire Press

"Drive myself crazy "

I wonder why psychology attracts folks of all shapes and sizes. It really is a cultural and ethnic zoo every Friday night, all those students seeking the counsel of the teacher with regards to matters of human behavior. Even my boss at work wants me to teach him the basics.

Most of the students are doing their grad dips. That is to say in common layman's terms that they are working professionals, who have actually severed all educational ties with a degree, but have somehow realized that unwanted sexual advances and mundane paper work just isn't worth it. Corporate cruelty dull the brain by promoting its maturity. Get what I mean? You stop thinking like a kid anymore. So they wake up one day and find human behavior alienating enough to be analyzed.

The uncle who sits behind me is in a perpetual state of syncopation. He can't catch up with the pace of the teaching. Strangely enough he has a remarkable sense of determination or long-lost zeal at completing his assignments light years before the due date. I wonder if addressing him as "uncle" would be rude, since we are all confined in the same classroom. People do have sensitivities, they want to feel young and be '"seen" young.

I wonder what happened to Lynn during the last couple of lessons. She is a biology teacher with a very sane view of life, and she's got that aura of wisdom surrounding her, like you can really ask her anything and she will give you the correct answer. It really is a pity I don't see her anymore.

I have two friends who always sit with me during the lectures. Their boys who talk like me, act like me, but fail to think like me. In brief, they are not as charming as me, but that really isn't the crux. I do not mind adopting two disciples to teach them the art of charisma,where the foundation of" if you have it, you have it" is all that matters. So Chester feels we aren't the youngest around, but with the way we conduct ourselves so cluelessly during class, I think sufficient experimentation has confirmed the hypothesis.

Dead ahead sits a grossly obese guy whom I reckoned was exploited for slimming commercials, though I can't seem to recall where. I just read an article in the Age (A Melbourne daily) that heavier babies have higher IQ. Does that mean he's smart and I am a dumb ass? He is like the Socrates of the food philosophy or Freud's perfect specimen for dietary repression. He gobbles five cream puffs with his left hand and flips the pages of the textbook with his right. He verbally punctuates the teacher's sentences by burping right after she stops talking. After the break, you can see him swaggering back to the table with more goodies from the Old Chang Kee downstairs. He's got a pastille pencil case, which is actually a brand of sweets with higher sugar content than Mentos.

I watch him eat, smile, answer questions spontaneously, and eat gain. When he wears a shirt too small for his waist, you see a wide fair, rash-filled blob of flesh partially embellished with crocodile underwear.

Behold the EQUATOR .

So Jean goes on to expound on the intricacies of the human mind. She gets excited, she sounds like she's nagging, and her jokes are directed at her own oversight of the topic in question. My brain proceeds to shut down, until I turn my attention to C.

C... my fingers feel it is too sacred to type down the rest of the alphabets to complete her name. All I know is she's an engineering graduate, who for some reason decided to become a shrink and sit in the same class to function as my weekly dose of temptation, giving me plesant dreams and distractions all at once. She looks not like a model nor an actress. In fact she lacks that quality of beauty I used to admire, or ogle in women. She carries herself simply, which is so fragile yet so intelligent. She hardly socializes with anyone, and when she is late she decides to sit with the couple who are so madly into each other, they simply couldn't give a damn whether an ancient Chinese princess was sitting beside.

Luke tells me the description's too good to be true. I will be honest, I have never lacked an eye for beauty no matter how exotic it might be. She's got nothing that other guys would take a second look at, at least not in his century. I can bet she has a boyfriend, after all she's older than me and with her kind of demeanour it is not too hard to attract chauvinists.

Then again, I always wonder whether 'being myself' would make me look real cute OR childish to a woman like her. She looks more like a shrink with her specs, and I can't help but feel I'm going mad

Hmm...for once in my whole pathetitic life, I think I am starting to like real women, not spoilt girls.

Later

Vertigo and dichotomy.

Yeah, almost everyone is offline, my batteries are running low and my cortex is undergoing binary fission. I need to get my literary fix, before it all fizzles into space.

The dream, scared the daylight wits out of my pathetic little soul. I met the girl of my dreams. My best friend couldn't get what he wanted, so he used my Muse to stop me from marriage. Making her tell those lies, that she wanted to be with me. I knew the truth, and I just couldn't stop hating them.

My muse (or rather the muse I had) is a huge scandalous controversy. She is my most humiliating emotional failure and my greatest artistic success. I gave a shot at the normal life, so I put her away, just to feel so human all over again. So here I am, leading a simple life, selling toys, blogging and just talking crap to show the world just how pink my tongue really is. Fiction is not my game for the moment, but I will definitely get back to it once my psychology's all tweaked free of minor defects.

I have made some adjustments to my foreign policy. All chamber personnel please take note. The jester will only be seeking adience with court officials not more than twice a week from now on. This would include personal meetings with the PM and regualr outings for Indian prata. All other matters, greivances, lame accusations, threats to make me eat my words, and other torture confirmations are to be directly managed by the PM in my absence. I am studying with Confucius and intend to court a rich merchant's daughter. SO PLEASE DO NOT DISTURB.

My heart skips multiple beats when I think about it. I'm always a 'yo sista' kinda guy, displaying no irregular or dubious symptoms of fear in front of the other sex, unless she is the following:
1) My girlfriend
2) My muse (duhz)
3) My "insatiable craving"
So yeah, have ya seen my fingers tremble, my pupils dilate, my cheeks flushed and I go dumb all too suddenly? Maybe you've seen them around, that's why. For the first time, I do not harbour any ridiculous thoughts, she is out of my league. I can't sense anything, except to feel that strange, enigmatic aura of human simplicity. For once, Batman just wants to be Bruce Wayne and Superman will stop flying to be Clark Kent. Nothing more, nothing less. Right now, I feel like consulting a shrink, and it can only be her.

Now on another matter, I really want to eat my words where a few of you are concerned. I am really dying to be proven wrong. On the other hand some people are just so predictable, you can safely conclude that their natural grain will not permit them to go against it themselves. It's almost as ludicrous as saying, "Oh I am sure KFC is going to become a vegetarian restaurant next year!" I try not to stereotype, not to judge, but it is obvious that some of us are really running out of ideas. So why not take the corn you have, grow a small field and play with the scarecrow once in while? Sitting there talking about castles will not make you the Sultan of Brunei.

Trust me, fairy tales don't come true so easily. If that were the case, my Muse would be my wife and I would have found the ginseng to make me six feet tall after puberty.