X's Issues

My journey with God and all things Christianity is fraught with many diversions, distraction, distrust and most of all my own need to feel. And it is this innate need that speaks the loudest… especially so in moments when fellow Christians act in ways that are self-glorifying in an attempt to justify their own beliefs and religion. And here is one of them.

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I don’t know many homophobes, but the few I know are wise enough to keep their personal prejudice and discriminations to themselves and other like-minded people. That makes me respect them a little bit more, when they don’t based their own personal thoughts on what Bible says. And that, in a way, also make me more accepting towards them and their beliefs. In my bid to repay their consideration, I refrain from initiating gay activitistic discussions and I shy away from conversations about movies such as Rent or Angels in America because I know they will be uncomfortable…

My stand on homosexuality is clear. Both heterosexuals and homosexuals should view their place in society as that of a privileged. And that any secular laws should not discriminate against homosexuals. An impartial homosexual political candidate will always get my vote over the heterosexual who is skewed towards particular lobby groups, be it whether if they are of charitable nature or not. And I am sure (and sincerely hope) that most will agree with me on that…

That is my opinion… shaped mainly by the interactions that I have had with many people who consider themselves homosexuals, as well as family and friends of such unique individuals. And I do realize that most people lack the fortune that I have and am thus unable to form a proper opinion and to take a stand. And it is perfectly fine if others choose to sit on the fence or brush this issue aside with a curt ‘no comment’.

I had the opportunity today to meet someone who truly feels that homosexuality is a form of mental illness and that it can be cured. According to X, homosexuality is a sin punishable by God as all homosexuals are conditioned or made as opposed to being born. X refuses to accept gay marriages because despite them also being ‘children of God’ they can only have their ‘righteous place’ when they repent and are humbled. In the current absence of genetic basis for homosexuality (which I am sure are soon to change), X sees homosexuals as a humanistic flaw as opposed to a variation of the human race.

I thought I was already living in the 21st century. This ritualistic weeding out of others who are ‘unlike you’ has already been observed countless of times in history and haven’t we learnt anything yet. Why is this society claiming to be forward moving when some of us are still so obviously stuck in the 40’s?

I am appalled. I am shocked. I am flabbergasted. It irks me to think of a homosexual as someone with a mental illness just because they say ‘I can’t help it’. Ask any straight individual with a tendency to indulge in orgies, alcohol, depressive thoughts or even television/music and they will tell you they cannot help it too. And thus by that standard, isn’t everyone on this planet ‘mentally unsound’ and in need of ‘curing’?

I have to admit, I don’t understand homosexual sex. I mean if it is naturally not-exactly-possible, shouldn’t it say something about the nature of it. The mental attraction to people of the same-sex is however understandable. After all, we gravitate towards others who share the same ideals and thoughts as ourselves. So X, how do you make a behavioral disagreement into a mental illness? After all, you will never punish your children for having less-than-beautiful features.

For those who fear the rise of homosexuality as a stain of society based on the gay rights movements of the US, I share your fear. And I know that our fear is one that dreads the very day when any group or lobby gains a foothold over the others. Still I hold my stand that as a developed society, our purpose is to put everyone at the equator of all issues rather than speculate and base our present actions on senseless predictions. Or worst yet is to state your prejudiced opinions and then to hide behind au fait quotes from the Bible.

And now you know why I cry whenever I think about my gay friends. The accusal of being so distinctly flawed is profoundly lonely. And that is a path that no one should ever walk, be it alone or accompanied.

The Making and Listing of Lists and Listed List

I love my Elmos and the whole world knows! Recent acquisitions make me feel loved and pampered. And I guess I appreciate them much more than I show since I love to play hide and seek. Here is the list, ready yourselves…

1. Elmo Notebook and Pencil; from the gang in Singapore. I now officially take the coolest notes in school due to the power conferred by an Elmo mechanical pencil. Best part: its mechanical and thus will last for a damn long time unlike those sharpening type. =)
2. Elmo grocery bag; from J’s mum. I cannot bear to use it to put actual groceries so I am putting it on my cupboard and it is currently home to all the things that I have purchased to bring home. Currently its’ contents are 4 Kinder Buenos and 2 boxes of my sisters’ favourite chewing gum.
3. Elmo PJ pants; from yf. A good combination of all my favourite things. Firstly it is Elmo, second it is blue! My favorite colour to wear. And lastly it is silky polyester! For the person who only sleep on silk pillowcases… I think I am in heaven.

Ok ok… now all I need is someone to design a classy Elmo blogskin. Heh! Just kidding people… Don’t go and do anything I won’t yeah. But I won’t mind an Elmo icon somewhere. Heh.

So now, whats the total number of Elmos I have in my room. I think I lost count.

Well since I am in the mood for lists I will now share trivial facts that are brought to you by Libragirl. Males won’t and shouldn’t really know this but there is this Australian brand of sanitary napkins that has tons of odd, interesting and nonsensical facts printed on its wrappers and whats not. Ok, so here goes.

1. Average weight loss of a racehorse during a race is 6-10kg
2. The male fox will mate for life. If the female dies, he remains single till death.
3. The only thing that can destroy a diamond is intense heat.
4. The starfish has 5 limbs but can regrow 4 of them as long as the central body is not harmed
5. A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.
6. The indentation at the bottom of a wine bottle strengthens the structure and helps to trap the sediments in the wine.
7. An egg shell had nearly 8000 pores that allow oxygen and carbon dioxide to flow in and out allowing the chick to breathe.
8. Researchers claim that light green as a colour is effective in relieving homesickness.
9. An average person sheds 750 grams of skin per year.
10. A crocodile cannot stick out its tongue
11. You can stop a sneeze by pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth.
12. A cow gives nearly 200,000 glasses of milk in her lifetime.
13. You burn more calories sleeping than you do watching television.
14. 35% of people who use personal ads for dating are already married.
15. Leonardo da Vinci invented scissors.
16. Lemons contain more sugar than strawberries.
17. Grapes explode when you put them in the microwave.

And since I am in the mood for lists and the listing of lists… Here is one last one. A list that I made more than a month ago, during an hour long lunch break that was spent in the library.

Things You Do During Your Lunch Break

1. Realise that highlighters are usually produced in 5 colours despite there being 7 colours in the rainbow.
2. Wonder why Arts Festivals Events cost so much and yet society perceive artists as starving personas.
3. Fall back into the old old discarded habit of rubbing the chin with the shoulder.
4. Go to the photocopier section of the library and accidentally become the smaller person.
5. See a book in the bookshop that claims to include all the timings and happenings in the Beijing Olympics… And wonder how is it all possible since it has just recently ended.
6. Be startled by the fact that black ink looks good on hot pink note paper. (PS: the paper was pink!)
7. Make a mental note never to entertain pink note paper thoughts again.

A Many Splendored Things...

The post was one that was full of angst but I have to add that today was good. Only 5 minutes was terrible. Amazing how 1 rotten apple can cause the whole crate to rot. Still, thanks to J’s mum, for the nice present. In the meantime, the rest of the world can wait while I withhold the identity of the present that made me smile. I am a girl of simple pleasures so you can be left guessing... It is really not that hard.

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The realization that you have been used and manipulated is a bitter feeling. It shakes you at the very core and crushes all the pride and dignity that you have left behind, reducing you to your naked self. The apex of this feeling lies not in how stupid you suddenly feel; neither does it refer to the discount that has been placed upon your kind thoughts and goodwill.

The apex is the mocking laughter of the devil singing between your ears, telling you that all the good you did once believe in does not exist, would not exist and shall never exist. In your mind, you banish all the good qualities such as trust, love, sympathy, kindness and generosity into Pandora’s box and swear, take an oath and do whatever you want to do, to convince yourself that you will not succumb to these nonsensical rubbish so that you will never be the one who will feel this way again.

Still I am guilty of being human. I am guilty of being the person who will wander nearest to the center and feeling the heat, still stretch my hand to have a taste of the uninhabited and irresistibly erotic dance of the fire. I still want to believe that there is a Higher Power that will sail me calmly through these turbulent waters and have me deposited safely on the other bank where everything has been promised and everything waits patiently, as if I have been expected.

And after the ceasing of the rain and wind, I know I can begin again. This moment is only temporary. Just as well that nothing lasts forever. After all, I still want to be near all the fires, whether they be big or small.

Just for this moment… leave me be. I need to relearn those steps to walk those paths again.

A Sense of Empty Happiness and Brooding Dread

Ever felt immensely happy for no particular reason while doing nothing in particular?

I feel that way every time I walk to the lab where my project is currently based at. It is not the project that I love. [Trust me on that!] Neither is it the people there that I feel a strong sense of affinity with, because I really barely know them. Just this unexplainable feeling immense happiness whenever I set foot on that 200m pavement that makes my steps just a little lighter and put a bounce in my hair.

I felt the same way when I walked home from work last year. A slow stroll next to the school with the quiet school field on one side, the noisy bustling congested road on the other and my iPod blasting my current favorites in my ear.

I adore this feeling. It makes everything else seem negligible and puts you in that true state where nothing is in your mind. And the best part is that you don’t feel bothered by anything. It’s not that you feel good. It’s just a good empty clear-minded moment. I love these times.

Now, ever felt carefree and yet have a sense of heavy and brooding dread, knowing that something bad is going to happen based on your current actions but you do not wish to do anything about it?

Trust me, I am sure you did. You would have felt that way at the start of any school holiday during your Primary and Secondary School days.

That’s how I currently feel everyday.

With this start of the school holiday, I feel happy because I finally get a break. But at the same time, I know that at the very very back corner of my mind that there is a price to pay for feeling so joyous and grateful for this break. It is almost as I know God is going to punish me for my current couldn’t-be-bothered attitude.

It isn’t really that I want to be left alone by school and it unnecessary accessories. I just want a proper moment with me, myself and I.

And so, I am still trying. Real hard. To constantly revisit the stretch of happy road mentally and escape from the general idea of being a school-going kid.

Randomness: Ikea Sunday

Disclaimer: Written on a deliriously happy mood, this post simply expanded and expanded. Ah well… a very long post ahead. Sometimes supremely bimbo-tically stupid that you will have to resist a strong urge to punch your screen. Don’t say I did not warn you!

This blog is becoming defunct. Blame it on the tons of assignments that are due before the 2 week break. Blame it on the silly Profs who give out all these assignments and conveniently forget that they have to eventually read through all our professional bullshit so they can give a juvenile score to contribute to our (eventual) professionally printed decorative paper that will be worthless to every organization that we aim to seek a job with and eternally envied by others who happen to not have the same paper.

Well, I should not have much complaints. I am glad that I have managed to cough up enough bullshit to last me through the multitudes of assignments that were due last week. Right now I am busy replenishing the store inside of me so as to fulfill the required supply due in 2 weeks time. In the mean time… wheeeeee….. 2 weeks of plain and simple and uncomplicated holidays!

The weekend was fun. Well, Saturday was kind of wasted behind the office desk, calling the university’s alumni that are most probably a) dead, b) cannot be bother, c) not at home or d) plain rude. But well, I am paid pretty good moolah so I shall maintain my deadly silence and talk about Sunday.

Well, Sunday was immensely filled with randomness that bleed from moment to moment and extend till today. Honestly, it all started out from gym and the light-headedness that comes with the realization of 2 weeks of no-school. –grins widely-

So on a wimp, we went to Ikea, to look at nonsensical furniture that we absolutely do not need, potentially will like, and definitely will want to buy. However, I must clarify that despite Ikea being a furniture super store; it was the meatballs that warrant the tram tickets. Yum! Love the ultra-fattening gravy and simply adore the lingon-berry jam. Although I must add that the meatballs back home are nicer, bigger and better.

Oh! Before I forget, we also got 10 sachets of hot chocolate for 1 dollar. Think about it 10 cents for 1 cup of hot chocolate. Even if I accidentally pour it down the sink, I will make another cup for myself; guilt-free… that is until I think about the poor and starving people. But really they will have no use for hot chocolate cause what they need is other food stuff, but well ahh… 10 cents hot chocolate. =) I think I am already in heaven, and that is even before I die!

Interestingly, after all that, we were resigned to going home and succumbing to the already irresistibly taunting notion of napping. But a stroll past Nandos, and we could not resist. Unfortunately we were disappointed by the charred and shrunken food portion sizes. I understand that the grill shrink food and I understand that the grill sometimes accidentally burn the food that is on it. But there is no excuse for the food tasting so terribly awful really! Almost cardboard-like… -shake head and do the tsk tsk thingy- Disgraceful and disappointing. Never going back.

Opps… I think I wrote much more than I had intent to, shall add a disclaimer at the front and make myself a sandwich with lingon-berry jam. Yum.

On days like these...

Today when I awoke, the world was grey and discolored. The hows and whys of this occurrence eluded me, so today I hide behind my words. I wielded them like swords, a protector of my spirit.

On this very same day, I went about the nonsenses of the day. Like lazy meanders, I move. Languid. Yet unlike the fluid that flows, I was immobile. Lost and yet not wandering. Lost and yet so very rooted to the very same.

On days such as these, it never fails to amaze, how the world stops to function. The littlest drift possesses indescribable power and pushes you over the edge. On days like these, the grandest pleasures pale and bleed into cloudless mountains. On days like these, you don’t resist the luring darkness.

And so I write these heavy words. Read Neruda. Look at Picasso. Stare at fragmented lines, conveying multitudes of empty neglected thoughts and hopes. Interrogate Dali and his colors, subtlety mocking this state. Then I pray that tomorrow will be fathomable. Bearable. And maybe, just perhaps livable. Because, today was so much less.

On days like these, you shed some tears and be a little bit gladder that tomorrow awaits behind the gentle curve of the horizon. Then you are happier, for you realize that with every moment past, you are already nearer, till this same day next year.

Elmo, Elmu, Elmi. Elma, Elme

PS: There was an identity crisis in Elmo identification. Not surprising given their identical genome and phenotype. Forgive me. It gets hard to tell canto speaking from non-canto speaking.

This morning when I woke up and looked out of my window, I was overwhelmed with a crippling worry that the morning sun might bleach my Elmo and Ernie collection. You see my Elmo and Ernie collection sits on the window sill, silent and smiling.

A quick glance around my room will tell you I am an Elmo fan with all the Elmo stickers, soft toys, labels and bed sheet. (Yes! Bed Sheets!) I honestly went crazy recently when I received a parcel from YH containing not 1 but 2 Elmos and an Ernie. No idea why the preferential treatment but I am happy. =) And not to mention that 1 of those Elmo flew all the way from HK and to think that we referred to it as ‘shit for room decoration’ while they were trying to keep the surprise from me. Oh, the terrible sin!

With the sudden influx of Elmos, I took an inventory of all the Elmo items in my room just for the sake of it. It was interesting to note that this is a temporary accommodation while I am studying in this God forsaken island/continent. Here is the list:

Large Elmo - from SO. First Elmo he has ever gave me.
Small Furry Elmo - from SO.
Elmo with heart in mouth holding a “No fart in my room” sign - from YH. This Elmo is from HK and so CAN speak canto yah!
Small Furry Elmo - from YH. This one came from HK NUS! Can CANNOT speak canto!
Mini Elmo holding flower - from YH, minitoons I think!
Hand-Sewn Mini Elmo - from KM, every stich with love okay! –wide wide grin-
2 Elmo Stickers - from SO, each cost CAN$3, on one of my childish wimps
2 Elmo Clothes Tag - from the Elmo PJs from YL
Elmo Bedsheet - from Mum. Seriously!
Long Elmo Dress PJs - from Mum. Love it!
Self drawn Elmo on Door – artistically done =)
Elmo Ruler – from Mum when I was in Sec 3 [Childrens’ Day]

Goodness me! 12 in total! And not to mention I have a large talking Elmo back home, that’s from YH and KM =). A small hand puppet Elmo from SO, etc etc etc I mean you get the drift. If I were to name every Elmo I have… this entry shall never end since I am still acquiring.

Goodness I love my Elmos. Ok I guess I am tired and ought to go drift to bed. Here is me ending another random post.

P/S: Any idea to prevent bleaching of my Elmos and Ernies, do let me know!

Amusing News

Just thought to share... funny stuff that makes you laugh...

See it here =)

And believe it here...

Mental Note:
1. Don't do any more laksa thingys.
2. Laksa kills.
3. Laksa induced diarrhea and vomitting does not make you feel good.
4. Laksa makes you itch.
5. Last of all, don't believe what others say about laksa.

Quiet Reminiscence|Loud Yearning

I had the following entry saved in a word document for more than a week now. There was no reason for me to put this up as a public post but well... things happen. They say that disappointment is a lover's word and it is indeed true. And for all things else, the love song by Mr Brown says is all.

I hate to admit the number of times I have gotten mad at SO for being judgmental of my home country, or fellow country men even. I try not to even think about the number of times he had made insinuating remarks about the island I called home. But worst of all, I am ashamed to say that I sometimes share the thoughts he harbor.

The place that my country has become in the past few years disappoints me. It makes every fiber of me want to deny that that was a place I once, together with many others proudly proclaimed as mine. While the country I knew was not perfect, it was not yet presumptuous, not yet authoritative enough to invade my mind to try and teach me what is right and not right.

With every reading of the papers at home that might as well be campaigning articles slash propaganda flyers meant to convince me of my vote, I am convinced otherwise. And I am sorry, to the extend of being apologetic, for being so terribly blind to senseless government processes and policies that only make sense when you are aiming to keep the current parliament seats warm with the same asses that has been warming them for so long now.

I feel pathetic even, for I find it so hard to denounce the things that I hold close to my heart. And I find it harder to realize that the distaste in my mouth as I pen these virtual words is not a discomfort that will go away or disappear. The wailing knowledge that my faded want is now nothingness, does not seem to pacify the angriest tears. And I weep, for that I am still imprisoned by the memories of what could be in my mind.

As You Like It - Seven Ages of Man

It was brought to my notice that some people did really think I was piffed with green and all things greenified. Well I wasn't, unfortunate for those who are eager to have a glimpse into my anger and fortunate for those who already know my temperament well enough to know it is not a territory that should be explored. Hey people, lighten up! I already said it was nonsensical... to borrow the line from the dark knight; why so serious?

On a more serious note.

Today, I was walking through the University Square and admiring the bare melancholy branches of the trees that line the path I recall this undeniably famous monologue by our favourite Shakespeare. And if life can be encompassed by the words that he has immortalised, I wonder which stage am I at. Am I the lover, the soldier or the justice. Am I none that he has said or am I all the is said and more.

But whatever the case, the truth remains the loudest at the initial invasion of the perpetuating silence.

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms;

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lin'd,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;

His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion;

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

— Jaques (Act II, Scene VII, lines 139-166)

Green Shirts Aplenty

Alert: Nonsensical Blog Ahead

Recently, I find my life revolving around a green shirt. I hate green with a passion. I hate how it is the default colours for babies that you don't know the sex of. I hate how it always looks dirty on canvas. I hate how it is the colour of the walls of unisex toilets.

Well, back to the topic of THAT green shirt. SO loves green. When I met him, he was a zen sort of man in his choice of colours. The first date together was a black shirt, the second date was a white shirt, the third was black and so on... I think you got the idea.

Since that many years ago, he has come to aquire shirts of another colour. Green. Maybe it was the influence of Timberland. Maybe it was his inner tree-hugger instincts. But why on earth green? His recent visit encompass a luggage full of grean shirts. And it is really alright that I have to look at him in his green shirt for the entire vacation. That I can live with...

And now that he is gone and away, he insists that he did indeed left a green shirt back here in this little room where I swear nothing can ever go missing for it is so little. For goodnesses sake! Exogenous contamination! Green is the colour of penicillium mould and u left it in my room!

That aside, I must clarify that it was his insistence that the shirt is now lonely in my room. From my side, I have searched high and low for this filthy contaminant to no avail. And trust me. IF there was such a GREEN shirt I would have thrown it out a long long long time ago.

And I pray, that the said green shirt will turn up sometime soon, cause we are all tired of its wandering tendencies and wishes that it would reveal itself to allow us to draw this endless search to a close.

Lessons to be learnt-
Conclusion 1: There is no green shirt here or anywhere near here.
Conclusion 2: Don't buy me green shirts.
Conclusion 3: No green at my wedding, birthday, funerals etc etc etc...