Thursday

Music: Ich Will – Rammstein

 On the flight today, I realised I forgot my camera. Along with the bunch of USD I was supposed to take with me to pay for stuff. I was kicking myself for forgetting my camera again. I had that visceral feeling that I forgot something but I just didn’t know what till it was too late. Oh well. Bummer.

 I had my pores shrink-ed today; it took all of 15 minutes at the dermatologist’s office. I am aware of the fact that I will need to head for a few treatments before I can actually see results but I reckon it’s a start. I hate my pores; they are completely visible and are the size of Tasmania. I haven’t had the time to go pay a visit to my dermatologist in Singapore but I will soon enough. I intend to shrink those darn pores ASAP.

 I realised this afternoon that the YSL boots I just purchased last week were a different pair than the ones I originally wanted. It turns out that the pair I have right now are limited editions; with 256 pairs made. I got the 28th pair so says the print on the sole of the boots. I actually ordered the non-limited edition pair; they have a perforated pattern on the front of the toe and a brown coating under the heel. The limited edition pair has a different stitch design on the front flap of the boots. I have to do a side by side comparison to come up with any other subtle difference. According to the people at YSL, they had an internal server problem and they couldn’t process and ship my order in time so they sent a pair from the flagship store in New York. So that’s the story and I still am pretty certain I like the original pair more. But it would be a bitch to return and exchange for a new pair. So oh well.

 Went to Nami at the JW Marriott for dinner tonight. It’s one of the best Japanese restaurants here in this country. We sat beside this Thai-Indian couple who split their time between Guam and Bangkok. We spent the night chatting with them and had a blast. The lady shared that her brother is in the business of seraching for hotel rooms; so basically, he books and secures hotel rooms all over the world for people who travel. At wholesale prices! How great is that?! I had so much food that I was just filled up. I haven’t felt so full in a while. But it was a good night.

 I am still exhausted and I have an early flight tomorrow. Thank goodness for sleeping pills! 

Hush

Music: Untitled 3 – Sigur Ros

 I am tired. I don’t even think I slept last night. I know I went to bed at 3am, tossed and adjusted the pillows a couple of times and before I knew it it was 1.10pm. All while hearing the next door neighbour’s screaming orgasm yelps. Correction, the next door neighbour’s street whore or wherever he picked her up. She screamed from 2.30am to 4am, then from 4am to 6am and then at 12.30pm, she started screaming again. That was not all, throw in furniture slamming and incessant laughter and you get the fucking soundtrack that kept me up last night.

 The thing is, this is not the first time. It happened the past 2 times I was here. It goes on and on and louder and louder. I’m not jealous that someone is having more sex that I am. Right now, at this point in my life, I want sleep more than I want sex. I can have sex anytime I want but what I can’t have on demand, instantly, is sleep. I almost got to the point; the point of sleep where you finally tip and drift off and don’t realise you actually fell asleep until you wake the next morning when she started screaming.

 I’m all for having sex; hell, I think the more sex people have, the better the world will be. So many people that need to get laid. But when it interrupts my sleep, that is the line crossed. Especially when I can’t beat it and certainly, don’t want to join in. I see flyers notifying residents that throwing cigarettes butts from their respective balconies disrupt the general cleanliness of the estate, flyers informing residents to only wait in the waiting area so as not to hold up incoming traffic, flyers urging residents to be a little more thoughtful of their fellow neighbours. Their fellow friendly neighbours. Maybe I should go do a flyer encouraging that boom-box whore to use her bedroom voice along with her client’s unit number. That should get someone’s attention.   

 Maybe my internal sleeping mechanism is faulty from the years in high school where I fought sleep to work out and have transatlantic relationships. I barely slept during my puberty years and I always felt tired and exhausted and slept felt so good. If there’s one thing I regret, it would be that I didn’t sleep more. If I have slept more, I would probably have been physically bigger and taller which is something I think about sometimes and my autonomic hibernating system would probably be less fucked up than it is now. 

Oh, to go back to that time when I could just fall asleep, just like that. I got to thinking that maybe I ought to buy a new bed. Something I can sink into. But then I would have to need to make space in my room for a bigger one. Just one more thing to think about.

 For now, there is science and little pills….

  

Tomorrow

Music: Firewalker – Liz Phair

 The common question everyone’s been asking since I arrived in Singapore is, ‘So when are you flying off again?’. With barely 36 hours to check up on mail, pay bills, decide the clothes to give away to make way for new ones, make appointments, visit the dry cleaners, de-clutter the bedroom; I hopped on a plane and am now in Bangkok. Tying up loose ends and getting out of this standstill quagmire.

 I’m looking forward to staying in one place come 2008 for a bit. Rest my feet and work on the other aspects of my life that I’ve placed on the shelf. To take a break from this nomadic, living-out-of-a-suitcase lifestyle I’ve lead these past 2 years. But of course, I don’t think I’ll stay still for long but whatever may be, I’ll always have the weekends to accumulate mileage points.

 There’s no one here but me. No one to take out food, make trips to the supermarket, visit the dry-cleaners, arrange for cleaning services, buy pints of Haagen Dazs. I thought about it as I lugged 7 1L bottles of mineral water back to the apartment and again when I filled up a whole cart with food and essentials to last the next 10 or so days. Thank goodness the supermarket had personal helpers to assist in loading the taxi. I’ll get through this, one day, I’ll look back on this dark period and it would all be only a memory. Come tomorrow and the tomorrows after that.

 I’ll soldier through this; after all, a boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do.

Pick Me Up

Music: Pictures Of You – The Last Goodnight

 I’ve been anaesthetised 3 times this week. I’m good with pain and excessive bleeding. I’ve chosen to deal with this setback the best way I can. I still think life is overrated but the more I question and the more shit that gets piled on my plate, the more I wonder if somehow I’m supposed to get something out of this, if I’m being tested. But the thing is, none of that matters because all I needed was to see some light at the end of this tunnel and I did by the way of the serendipitous availability of a time slot that wouldn’t be mine if I hadn’t checked a second time while protesting to the need to find a way round my return date from The States. Maybe this is the flickering of light.

 I got a haircut today and spent the rest of the day looking to blow some cash. It was straight to the Dolce & Gabanna boutique after the haircut. There was a pair of shoes that caught my eye as I walked past the store to the salon. It had my name written all over it. This beautiful sharp dark slate grey patent lace-up made just the way I liked my leather shoes. I asked for a size 41 and was told there was only pair left. The ones on display. But they were size 5 and I am a size 8 when it comes to shoes like these. The sales person asked me if I wanted to try them on. How the hell am I going to fit into a size 5? So I walked out disappointed; it was to be my feel-better present. All is not lost yet, I still have yet to hit the Dolce store in Singapore. That shall be a priority on Sunday.

 I caught my reflection a couple of times today and thought about time. I’ve taken this chuck of bad news pretty calmly. I’m going with looking at this with being granted the opportunity to start fresh. Not everyone gets a second chance and I think it’ll only go up from here. 3.5 months will come and go and along with some good ole patience, I’ll be on track to being even better.

 After all, “Rome was not build in one day.” so said Dr Ar K.

 How true. How true.
 

As Sure As The Sky Is Green

Music: An Old Familiar Scene – Elf Power

I can’t do this much longer. How much longer, I am not sure. Jim asked me what was wrong with us a few hours ago. I told him I couldn’t live with him, couldn’t share a space with him and didn’t see a future with him. He said he needed to know what was wrong so he could fix it; I had wanted to say that not everything could be glued back but I didn’t. You can change your bathroom habits, you can start picking up after yourself, you can stop hogging the bandwidth, you can realise that the person you share your bed with gets awoken every bloody morning by your incessant typing and move into the next room.

 He loved the new individual I had moulded him into and he wants me to make him even better. Here it was; an earnest invitation to run every aspect of his life. As tempting as that sounds, I don’t need a pet project. My plate is full and I desperately need a new, clean one. I told him I was done with editing his tracks. I have done nothing but father this relationship and I won’t keep directing the traffic and pointing out where he’s going wrong.

 ’You are a fucking adult!’ I exclaimed.

 He begged for me to give him time to prove me wrong; to provide and hold the platform for him to change the fact that I didn’t see a future with him, to let him try. I held my tongue and said nothing. For once, I didn’t see a need to say anything and I didn’t want to. He took my silence as consent.

 How much longer; I’m not quite sure.

Friday

Music: Oh Yeah – The Subways

I just pre-ordered Radiohead’s new album, In Rainbows. The only difference this time was that I got to choose the price I wanted to pay to for the official album and come album release day, I get an email with the link and password to start downloading the LP. I think it’s a progressive, modern, smashing idea to deal with the current state of the music industry. And not being tied down to a record company has its own perks. Way to go, Thom Yorke & Co!

I got a call from a Ralph Lauren representative today. They are going to redo my order of customised polo shirts. I called customer service before making my order; enquiring about the fits and explaining the general difficulty I have with sizes in general. I then made my order on the advice of the customer service rep. The customised shirts came and they were way too big. I know that Ralph Lauren doesn’t have a return policy for specially customised polos and I was constantly reminded of that fact when I spoke to another rep. But I knew I was given misguided consumer information and I was not going to stand for it. There’s nothing like alluding to the immediate dialing of American Express and disputing the charges to get my point across.

Ab Fab alum; Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French’s parodies are a hoot! The first one’s on America’s Next Top Model and the second one’s on Bjork.

FYI

Music: The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song – The Flaming Lips

I’ve noticed that the general traffic flow of this little space are not really aware of the additional posts I have on this blog. I have posted additional bits of writing that I had done 1.5 years ago as a result of a meeting with a publisher.

If you scroll down and look to the right-hand corner of the blog page, you will see a PAGE section under the CATEGORIES section. The articles are individually posted there. Start by reading AS IT IS (SCRAPS) which presents a better insight as to where these writings stem from.

So do let me know what you think. I’m always only just and email, phone-call or comment away.

PS: Thanks Bryan and Jess for the heads-up and encouragement and for pushing me to write again!

Drink It Up

Music: Little Razorblade – Pink Spiders

I’ve been drinking most my meals these past few days. Chewing’s a bitch right now and even though I miss physically feeling food in my mouth, I kinda want to see where my new diet will take me. It just suddenly occurred to me how there are no junk foods in liquid form (and I don’t mean candy or soft drinks) that you can actually wholly consume. I’ll find ways to put on some weight via this alternative diet of mine. It would be much easier to have a pill for every meal and then when you want some extra pounds, you pop 2 pills. So where is my dinner in pill form? Until then, drinking is the new eating for me.

Aaron just asked me what season it is right now in Singapore; before asking me to pardon his ignorance. He then said he could easily goggle it but it wouldn’t be as much fun. I found that cute. At least he knew where Singapore was on the map. I would have 4 dollars if I had a dollar everytime a Caucasian person asked me if Singapore was in China. And it’s 4 eye-rolling bucks I rather not have. 

Second episode of the second season of Heroes tonight. I wish I was a mutant. A Class 4 one. How geeky, I know.  

Super Size Me Please

Music: Boyz – M.I.A

I have lost all will to head to the gym and work for a better body. I caught sight of myself in the mirror before my morning shower and I realized I’d look better with a few more pounds.

So to hell with watching what I eat, the kitchen’s stocked with junk food and the freezer with pints of Haagen-Dazs. It feels liberating to say it; let alone do it. I’m going to eat whatever I want; however much I want.

I’d be damned though if I can’t fit into my recent purchase; a Citizens of Humanity Grommet Electric Guitar that I had made straight. But I doubt my waist would expend much even with this new diet. But then, I run the risk of being in-between sizes which is so cumbersome, it’s already difficult enough to buy clothes as it is. Oh well, I’ll deal with it if I get there.

But for now, here’s to having all my cake and eating it. Literally.

Tomorrow

Music: On Again Off Again – Riverboat Gamblers 

I’ve been writing sporadically but I’ve never posted anything until now. I wrote this in January this year (I finally found the time stamp option on Word Press) and it reflected my state of mind then. I’ve definitely been cheering for a different team these days; probably for the cynical, pessimistic, occasionally suicidal squad. The reason why I’m posting old entries, if anything, is to keep track of my progress and my stream of consciousness. And also to provide the constant opportunity to laugh at myself, of course.  

 I have been absent for a while. A long while, actually. I can’t really point to where I’ve stored little thoughts, frustrations and queries these past 11 months. I’ve been meaning to write; constantly edging myself to gather and take a breath and just start. But there were always the I-don’t-have-time-to-sit-vacillate-and-write excuses and having the reasons for writing completely vaporize the next day. All is well now, I seem to always say to myself; no need to do pages on the wrongs with the swirls in your life. But I can never confess the real reason why I’ve stopped this form of expression. I’m afraid I’ll never been good enough. I’m afraid all my efforts will come to naught and so what’s the use of even doing something if I know I’m not going to achieve the level of success I so crave? It’s always so easy being just so with yourself. Waking up everyday repeating the same routine. Never changing much and swaying when the occasional wind blows. It’s like a pair of fat-man jeans, you know they look bad but they feel so comfortable and you psych yourself up by thinking you’ll distract people with other aspects of you; your personality, your smarts, whatever.  I see it with myself. I get up, head to work, head to school after work, work out, shower, and sleep. Repeat cycle tomorrow.

 I’m not insecure when I say I’m afraid I’m never going to be good enough or when I confess how I don’t think I look good enough. It’s just that I know I have to keep moving and moving forward, working on the betterment of myself. The point of life (one of) is to be happy then happier and happier each day, each month, and each year. It’s not because I care about what other individuals think of me but what I think of myself. I know I can be better and sow so much more. I know the things I can do if I just push myself. There are things in my life right now that I naturally feel more compelled and inclined to as compared to others. ‘I just need to find more time’, I tell myself like a broken record. But I’ll never have time if I don’t make time for it. This is my first waddling step to doing the things I set out to realize. But I don’t feel like I’ve done much or as much as I want to accomplish. I have to head back to college, get back into learning music, and yes, start writing again.

This will be an avenue for me to stand and pour and retell and vent and begrudge in gratuity. Here’s to assaying and taking a harder whack at this. 

I’d like to think that I’ve tried, be it with people or with opportunities that come my way. At the end of the day, there is no point crying over wasted time that I spilled just because I can. I’ve just got to make tomorrow way much better then.