“When you find yourself in a hole, stop digging”
Rogers, Will

Like any other students, ivy league to not-yet-known universities, i have my panicking moments from time to time when i approach a milestone of my varsity life.

This is one instance of nausea, extreme anxiety, relentless worry and stress. Another hurdle i will have to overcome and draw a relieving sigh afterward. On hindsight, things in uni are not life and death matter for many of us, including me (as rightfully pointed out by my respectable professor).

Deep down, i know that it’s true. Yet, as a human being like many others, and in addition to my inexperience and hopeless optimism of youth, i doubt that many can overcome the end-of-the-world mentality when (s)he is preparing to stable the vehicle before and after passing that pothole on the road.

It’s true that through hardship, people really learn bit by bit how to get a hold of themselves and to realize that you have learnt at least a fraction of what are there to absorb from the whole melodramatic business.

I do and will keep telling myself: “of course i won’t look back at this failure – if it indeed happens –  and feel devastated so get a grip of yourself and get this sh*t over and done with”

Happy Coding!

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Strangers

As a kid, we were told not to talk to strangers nor to take anything from them. Our parents reckon, at the time, we were still very vulnerable. Yet how invincible are we when we grow up? Hard to tell.

Today was a completely random day for me. Wandered around the downtown area to kill time, to empty stuffs which might or might not exist in my stream of thinking.

Starbucks store is really an intriguing place, at least for me. Purposeful and coincidentally, i didn’t have the chance to immerse in my beloved kindle during my afternoon time at a Starbucks store. Having nothing routine enough to cling to, i was forced, and later rather comfortable and sunk in, to observe those chose to patronize that particular Starbucks store as well as to listen to their conversations.

It’s a wonder that people just 30-40 years ago would not experience without a kind of shock or amazement. Singapore is so much a melting pot, and a tiny pot it is, that the fact that one can easily meet or see people originated from a place half way around the globe no longer comes as a surprise or wonder. Where i was at this afternoon, it’s like a well-maintained and framed miniature of that society. Just right next to my table, a young Singaporean couple were chatting away enthusiastically over their Frappuccinos. Behind me were a European family, an Indian mid-aged couple, and a African-Asian couple. In front of me, a family of Indonesian sat next to a table of two Korean girls applying lotion on skin to keep moisture and enjoying their coffee at the same time. A typical of today youth with her laptop completely oblivious to her surroundings and a businessman who looked like he was contemplating rather than reading a document.

It would not be complete without the escalating buzzes of an myriad of languages and conversations shooting at every table in the tiny coffee shop, the noise of the blenders, and the greetings of the shop assistant with a forever trained smile on his face. Some nice music was definitely lost under all those discernible sounds.

Perhaps the effect of HP series hasn’t shaken off. it now appears to me as a real version of the Leaky Cauldron. Uhm… perhaps i could come up with something to bring chaos to the world like J.K Rowling? Normally i would hate letting my thoughts wander that much. But it was a lovely afternoon. I was, instead, quite enjoying my time staying completely oblivious to the reality and immersing myself in that chaotic in order small scene. Every movements, every sound, every face bemused me, calling eagerly inside for thoughts yet found itself lost midway. And that was it, not a scrutinizing or analysing look and view like that of Mr. The undercover economist nor a dramatizing or imagining observation of Ms. Prolific writer.

Probably i’m playing with my mind and computer again. But it was a nice getaway, even just in my mind. The moment i’m back to the station, seeing the same sort of crowd moving in an industrial-like manner on a Saturday night, i knew i was drawn back to reality again, just to let my mind filled with… things

My best friend YouTube

Let me introduce you to my best friend,YouTube.

He has been my best friend for nearly 4 years. Well i’m glad i have such a smart lad to hang out with every night. He remembers what i like, which channel i usually watch, what kind of music i often listen , and the list goes on…

It’s often very intriguing to find out the reason i have befriended him at the first place. It’s not that i didn’t have endless nights hanging out with friends back in high school or chatting away with family. So can i blame, or rather attribute this fortunate acquaintance to, this tiny island?

The sudden thought of “the grass is always greener on the other side of the hill” struck my mind. People seem to indulge so easily in their worlds from those glossy, palm-sized windows. Some appear to fall into a stupor. Some are completely absorbed. Some seem to find an excuse to feel detached from the chaotic movements of particles which relentlessly try to prove their existence and wit deemed worthy of their very own definition “humankind”;  or  the entangled web of all shapes and sizes vehicles with disgruntled husbands, wives, employees, … people on them.

And yes, i did. I plugged in my headphone, met up with my dearest YouTube and once again felt amazed by his knowledge of a world full of gossips, actions,rhythm, noise, celeb talks, emo messages, blah blah blah. I was swept away by such enormous amount of information. However wonder the conversation i have had with my dear friend YouTube every time, the inner curiosity perhaps genetically inherited from lady Pandora is still able to pull the strings controlling the puppet me to look from the surreal window and into the happening world out there through the unknowingly clouded eyes and spectacles.

Oh mind, what a view. And slowly, i’m drifted into the realm of blurriness and mind-wandering, watching in slow motion as well as fast-forward cinematic picture of Singapura exuberant life at night, saying goodbye to my friend, YouTube. For a while…

It was Father’s Day

I started the day with VStudio 01 and and this article about what a person remembers about her dad. Ironic enough, that very day of ‘apart’ is the day all others celebrate some other thing. Just like today, a day a lot of sons, daughters, and granchildren show their love to their dads. There are people who.. simply..” miss” it.

[i guess being alone does have an effect]I keep thinking about her ever since i’m back home. She and the kid lost it, lost that simple but utmost important privilege of doing just about anything to show their love to the man their life revolves around. I still remember that email, those every words she wrote to us. They were strong, abrupt, and full of courage. It’s scary. It’s frightful. It’s painful. It’s excruciating pain. It’s horror. Yet we all have to say those words at least once in our life. It’s hard to forget those faces i have come to know when they say those words out loud.

It’s just like her, so much courage, so much confidence. Sometimes i have to wonder how much pain killer a person has to take to suppress that much pain.

There was one particular video showing how kids reunited with their dads coming back from battlefield in US. I cried when that little boy ran over to his dad, hugged him real tight, and said in tears “i miss you dad”. I wonder how little Tommy is doing on this day. Of course he’s told his is far away. Hard to say whether it’s a bless to not remember almost everything. I told my friend when reading her note today that it’s good at least to have your memories stay to comfort you. Yet should i wish that same thing for little Tommy? I don’t know. Been there, done that. It’s hurtful, sometimes. But strange enough, that’s what helps me get through.

Perhaps some witch somewhere is playing with me. It keeps popping up, whether fb notes or news articles or even chit chat. A friend of mine suddenly said it’s Father’s day today. Honestly i was stunned when she said it out. That’s the moment i realized i have a luxury which a lot don’t have. I have the luxury to text my pa to say happy father’s day. I stopped there for a brief moment and still told her i text my dad. I just think it’s better to keep it as normal. Just to get it over, just to make it memory.

A friend told me people tend to think their pain, their suffering are greater than what others are going through. Yes, it’s true. It’s hard to get over it if one doesn’t have the chance to get know others’ experiences.

I don’t grieve over it all the time. Partly, and painfully to admit, because i don’t remember that much. I appreciate the luxury that i have and hold dear because i understand what it’s like to not have it. And this, i sincerely want Tommy to have. I wish he grows up not bringing the pain but the bits of memories, however little, and let they soothe him. I wish he grows up appreciating the fact that he can still afford that same luxury with his mom. Because it’s important to remember all, remember to reminisce and remember to care.

I’m lucky to still have ‘a part’ after that ‘apart’. And for that, i’m grateful.

So it was Father’s day. Not all things are black or white entirely. Even pain and happiness.

P/S: i want to go back so badly to see you and play with little Tommy. I want to buy those action figures and dinosaur toys to play with him. Love you.

Like every other pa

I got this during the Singapore Air Base exhibition last week. This will be my first ever post about o photo. I don’t have a great camera, just a good enough point-n-shoot Canon. So definitely I am not discussing the technique, the colour, the light, etc. What I would like to tell is why I took the picture.

Of course the impulsive thing is i found the moment quite amusing yet heartening. Way back when i was still a kid, i once asked myself: “why pa isn’t Superman? why pa doesn’t have super strength? why pa can’t fly?” [So much for an Asian kid :p] All kids have dreams and love super power. I did, too. I wanted to have magic… well, to make my pa superman.

Many may remember the story of a man and a tree, of how he receives so much from the old tree since he’s a kid till he gets married. Looking back at myself, i have never said i love my pa. I have never really asked him how he’s doing. Nor have i ever told him about my life and asked about his. Strange he is that he’s still supporting me, lifting me up. Guess that’s the most serious part about being a pa, to be a full time supporter of your children.

I have wondered some time what kind of love this is, what kind of relationship exists between us. Yet this thought never wanders for so long. I have doubted to the least pa loves me all this time.

Lovely how he keeps asking me the same thing about emailing and sending pictures. Ever since I leave town for university, we both have made efforts. He emails and skypes while I call and … email 🙂 I wished pa happy birthday and talked about my study, my life here in this little island.

Coming back to the dreams, I think one more should add one more to my list: to be a good pa one day 😀

From the song Cat’s in the cradle

He’d say “I’m gonna be like you dad
You know I’m gonna be like you”

Cat’s in the cradle