A Year of Rants

Another fresh new year is here ...
Another year to live!
To banish worry, doubt, and fear,
To love and laugh and give!

This bright new year is given me,
To live each day with zest ...
To daily grow and try to be
My highest and my best!

I have the opportunity,
Once more to right some wrongs,
To pray for peace, to plant a tree,
And sing more joyful songs!
~William Arthur Ward

Sigh, if only I can be so carefree...

* * * * *

This is my 94-th post.

Twelve months ago, I started this blog in a nostalgic mood; today, I'm blogging away in a similar mood, only that this one is tinged more with a heavy sense of depression.

It has been a year of major changes. Nothing much has happened, actually. But those few incidents were more than enough to change my outlooks and drastically mould me into a person who is as yet, a stranger to my own self.

I used to be over-confident; taking things easy and never believed there's anything I couldn't achieve. But, failures are an inevitable part of life, I knew that. Nevertheless, there were blows that were hard to endure; more than once, I almost faltered. In the end, it was cowardice which ironically held me back. To certain people, they might have been a mere prick in the skin. However, that is a judgmental way to weigh the grief one is enduring. It is the coping resources that counts. When pain exceeds the resources for coping with it, things can end rather badly.

True friends are becoming hard to find. In fact, even my number of normal friends has diminished to a poor handful. When you're trying to get someone with whom there's mutual understanding and trust, it's even tougher. There're feelings that I have to confide; but I care not to reveal to anyone around me, knowing that there's this barrier that I've built by myself. There's tears that should have been shed without shame; but I just have to hold them back, telling myself I will not admit being weak. Hell, why can't I be less emotional?

Skimming through my past posts, I realise that most of them have been rather gloomy and they never run away from certain topics. Is it because I tend to blog more when I'm feeling upset or stressed? Or is it just plainly because I'm growing pessimistic? Instead of fantasising about the uncertain future based on flimsy hopes of the present, I simply prefer to focus on my pains. Sigh, I'm getting sick of myself for constantly fishing for sympathy... I'm almost certain that most people out there are shaking their heads and saying, "Not again."

To put it lamely, I am aware that I'm better off than many other people. Yet, I don't know why there isn't satisfaction in life. I'm just lack of inspiration and motivation.

Why is it that I still linger on past wounds? Perhaps, it's because there's nothing much to expect from the future.

Privacy Breached

The personal life of every individual is based on secrecy, and perhaps it is partly for that reason that civilized man is so nervously anxious that personal privacy should be respected. ~Anton Chekhov

Woe is me!

Angry? I'm not angry! I'm utterly disappointed! I'm irritated! I'm furious! I can't tolerate her attitude anymore! Gah! Reading my short messages as if there's nothing wrong as long as I'm not aware of it. The truth is, I knew all along. Despite telling her umpteen times, she still remains obstinate.

To make things worse, she also has the knack of sifting through my wallet and my drawers, as if half-expecting to find designer drugs or something bad or perhaps even a skeleton in my cupboard.

If she's just trying to keep tabs on my social circle and what I'm doing, simply out of concern, this is the worst way of doing it. She could've at least just asked! How can she expect me to confide to her when she's doing such things without my knowledge? Is there no one whom I can still trust these days? There're so many things that I don't even think of telling her anymore.

This time, I'm totally upset. She doesn't even understand my basic rights, does she? I'm not a rebellious, whimsical young adult seeking for independence. For goodness sake, I merely need to have my personal space! I need room to breathe!

There's no way she can blame me for not trying to bridge the yawning chasm...

Cliffhanging

Life may be not only meaningless but absurd. ~Thomas Nagel

Right after the abseiling slope on our regular hiking path in Penang Hill, is a steep three-storey cliff. This is a deadly cliff which no sane man would even think of climbing up without proper rock-climbing equipments and a life insurance.

To begin with, the loose earth does not offer much space for safe and firm footholds. Besides, backing down is not an option once you've started climbing up the cliff since that'd be more dangerous than going up. But, with nothing on the ground except jagged granites to break your fall (and your cranium), the best thing you can hope for - should you slip - is an instant, painless death instead of ending up breaking the spinal chord and live the rest of your life in the bed as a vegetable.

Today, we flirted with death for the third time, going up this cliff armed with senseless bravado and sheer irrationality. Satistically, we should be dead by now. But miracles do happen - in our case, thrice. Otherwise, I'd be resting in peace or playing my harp in heaven right now instead of blogging.

I had a different feeling each time we made it to the top. On the first time, there was a sense of achievement. As we made one final push and set our feet on the cliff, we shouted like mad men. For the moment, the risk and the unbearable level of adrenaline seemed to be a fair price to pay for the boost in ego.

On the second attempt, there was a sense of invincibility - typical of megalomaniacs. More than once, I slipped. Had my guardian angel being in negligent in those critical moments, I would have ended up with the same fate as an egg being dropped down the cliff. Yet, defying the mathematics of probability, we somehow survived and smirked at death's face.

However, our third accomplishment did not make me feel good at all, even though we managed to make it in a shorter time than before. As a matter of fact, I started questioning myself of the unnecessary risk I've taken. What is it, if not insanity, which is capable of driving a man to risk his life for something not worth dying for? Has he lost hope in life and become suicidal enough to gamble with his life? Or is he just some irrational potato head like Raptor who is only seeking for some form of thrill to spice up his otherwise bland life?

Of course, every time we climbed up, I was fearful of loosing my foothold. Yet, even in those cliffhanging moments, my life did not flash through the mind - the way it ought to happpen to those who are having a brush with death. Is my life not worth valuing - even by myself?

Indeed, I felt lucky to have made it all the way up with some mere scratches in the elbows and the knees. Yet, I stretched my luck and risked a second and god forbid, a third try. Do I not appreciate the fact that I'm still living?

What's wrong with me? What is it in life that I'm not satisfied of?

Suddenly, life seems to have come to a cliffhanging stage. Neither backing down nor hanging midway is an option. I know darn well that the Hobson's choice is to go up. But alas, being able to make it thus far doesn't guarantee that I'll make it to the top...

Love and Sacrifices

It takes so much to love some one, because love is the ultimate sacrifice. ~Anonymous

Whatever she does, she thinks twice about his feelings. She doesn't even mind making sacrifices even to just satisfy his unreasonable whims. Yet, she does all that without having any regrets, for she is truly in love with him.

Regrettably, he doesn't care much about her. Every now and then, he hurts her so deeply. But, even though he ignores her wounds, she insists on giving him chances after chances. His selfish actions only make people despise him and question whether he deserves her love.

There're always things that, we, as third persons, shall never understand. Some may think she's foolish - why cling onto him when he only brings grevious hurt? Shouldn't she just call it off instead for the sake of her own happiness?

At times, self-sacrifices cannot be avoided, because in a relationship, happiness is meaningless unless it is mutually felt. However, love is blind. Sometimes, she cares so much about her partner's feelings that she neglects her own. Of course, the sacrifices made would be worthy if they're acknolwedged and returned. But, when it happens without reciprocal, it becomes utterly suffering. Though outsiders can easily sense it and sympathise her, she just doesn't feel much like a manipulated victim.

It is unfair of me to be judgmental, more so after considering my position. Nevertheless, how can I sit back and say nothing when she's suffocating, even if she were just a normal friend? To console her, I tried to think of some possible excuse for him, because she is clearly disappointed of him and from all those things that people said, began to lose faith. But alas, I just can't think of any way to defend him.

Perhaps she was right in saying that I don't understand the situation. Yeah, I don't even dare to broach the subject for fear of upsetting her. Even if the intentions were benevolent, it will only seem like an intrusion of privacy.

Sigh, she's another unfortunate victim of Eros. Still, no matter what, this can only be left to both of them to come up with a solution, while I can only hope she'll be happy with whatever decision she'll eventually make.

Atheist in a Temple

In some awful, strange, paradoxical way, atheists tend to take religion more seriously than the practitioners. ~David Hume

An atheist in a temple - what could possibly make a better paradox? However, this atheist isn't there to pray; he's there as a voluntary helper - because he is unfortunately roped in by someone - and because as a moderate atheist, he is magnanimous enough to put aside the difference in belief.

Now, only two days into his job, he has seen enough to reignite his atheistic sentiments which he has been painfully supressing. When it comes to religion, an atheist must always watch his tongue; he just might end up being struck by lightning or being chopped by some machete-wielding zealot.

But, I digressed.

So, okay. I am helping out in a dharma assembly. This isn't any simple recitation session; it is led by His Eminence Drubwang Konchok Norbu Rinopoche. Ah, nevermind who he is. To me, he's just an 84-year-old elderly chap who came all the way from Tibet. But to the other 300-odd Buddhists who attended the recitation, he's not your ordinary "octogenarian-next-door". For goodness sake, he's "the reincarnated one with great vows or Tulku" - that's what Rinpoche means - and this name is endowed by the Dalai Lama, another old chap.

This dharma assembly is held for a total of nine days, during which they'll recite the Mani Mantra for 100 million times. "The merits acrrued will be transferred for world peace, well being of the people and the country as well as all sentient beings." This really had me scratch my head. How can you possibly help humanity attain peace just by chanting some mantra? Oh my god, all this while, I thought maintaining world peace is the sole responsibility of George W. Bush!

Okay, enough nonsense. But the truth is, I really think there is possibly nothing more unconstructive than this. Hey, 300 people sitting in the shrine chanting all day long isn't going to boost the country's productivity. Pardon me, but I must say this is totally impractical.

Then, there are those people who worship the old chap as if he's some kind of god. Well, "He's a living god," they say. Heck, no way am I going to worship another person who's obviously a human being like you and me. As a narcissist at heart, I only worship that godly guy in my mirror; not the hot Britney Spears nor the sexy Angelina Jolie!

One weakness that I have is I tend to look at the bad side of things. Call me pessimistic if you want to; I think religion doesn't necessarily make better persons. Back in the shrine, there was a person who adamantly insisted on sitting in the front row which was reserved for the monks. "No way am I going to move to the second row! I want to pay attention during the recitation!" he argued. I wondered if he was there for the chanting or just to have a look at the Rinpoche old chap.

People were jostling to get into the elevators; a monk was smoking in the carpark; full-time participants arrogantly asked for the front seats; feng-shui-conscious ladies reserving their seats with jackets... Sigh, some people just don't grow wiser...

By the way, the atmosphere in the shrine during the chanting is as somnolent as white noise. Almost perfect for deep-meditation (translation: dozing off).

Bachelor Talk

A bachelor is a man who comes to work each morning from a different direction. ~Sholom Aleichem

Despite the fact that Station 5 is one of the best spots on Penang Hill, Raptor never takes the time to appreciate what it has to offer.

"Come on, let's get going in five minutes," he'd say as soon as we reach there.
"What's the rush?"
"It's not like I want to spend my time here with you. If I'm here with my girlfriend, it's a different story."

Then, he'd start telling me how he wishes to bring his girlfriend for a date in Penang Hill.

Did I hear you say, "Bah, typical bachelor talk!"? Indeed it is. And the desperate Raptor always picks up a sober mood when he broaches that topic. It reminds me of Belly Eyap^§, the bachelor who behaves in a totally different way.

For those who don't already know, Belly Eyap a.k.a. Darth Vader is our former infamous disciplinarian. (Ahem, can someone please play Imperial's March?) Ah, his "reign of terror" in the school - and the cyberworld as well - is long gone. Since the Sith Lord stepped down from his throne, he has rebuilt his image as a kindly old chap.

You see, Belly doesn't own a car, despite the common belief that bachelors like him ought to be rich, considering that they have only one belly to feed. (Pardon the pun) Once, I offered him a ride to a bus stand and we had a conversation which went something like this:

Belly: Do you have a girlfriend?
Me: Huh? No...
Belly: Perhaps I can help you search for one by running an ad for you on Mr Eyap's Corner.
Don't ask me. It must be some kind of fictitious online forum.
Me: (*Deep breath) What-when-where-why-who-how-huh?
Belly: What sort of girls do you prefer?
Me: Whoa! Thanks for your concern but shouldn't you be worrying about yourself instead of me! Haha!

Why did the old bachelor turn into a matchmaker all in a sudden? Jeez! Poor Belly! He must be one lonely guy!

Then, there's another Bachelor Ele^§ who is better known as the "perpetrator of boredom". (I believe this is why he isn't married; he readily hands you the anchor when you're struggling in the sea of boredom listening to his lectures. Une vraie barbe - a real bore!) Again, this is another poor bachelor who doesn't own a car and constantly complains of "financial woes" when it comes to collecting photostating fees for his notes.

Another thing they have in common is Ele is also lonely. That explains why he tends to babble on the same topics ad nauseam.

Oscar Wilde was probably right in proposing helftier tax on bachelors for being happier than other men. Don't be fooled by their appearances. These bachelors may be misers who, in reality, have a six-digit balance in their accounts! After all, they don't have a family to suupport.

Besides, being a bachelor means you have total freedom - no one to pull your ears even when you drool upon seeing some sexy gal in Gurney Plaza. And you're even spared from the mental torment of accompanying your lass for pointless window-shopping.

So, being non-committed could be a wiser choice after all, despite the chances of growing boring and cranky.

^§Surnames are scrambled to protect privacy.

Crush Calculator

Why do they call it a crush? Because that's how you feel when they don't feel the same way in return. ~Anonymous

Forget about all those "crush calculators" you've seen before. This is the most accurate of all. See for yourself! CrushCalculator.com

To whom thy secret thou dost tell, to him thy freedom thou dost sell. ~Benjamin Franklin

Dilemma

Life is a constant oscillation between the sharp horns of dilemmas. ~ Henry Louis Mencken

Story-tellers and movie producers have the uncanny habit of leaving the ending of their stories hanging in such a way that leaves room for a possible sequel. But, none may surpass Providence in the art of story-weaving for she is the most adept at plotting deceivingly conclusive endings, when in fact, a new chapter awaits. Who knows, with a twist in the plot, you may come to a totally different sort of ending.

But, alas! You've made your decision that you saw fit for the supposed "ending". Will you then take one step back and repick your choice in view of this new development?

Hey, that's a no-no. This is a matter of principles. How can one go back on his own words?

But, a wise decision should be made by taking into account the situation. Now that there is a new development, shouldn't it be reconsidered?

No. The decision is final even when there's a glimpse of bright hope. Besides, it doesn't raise the chances much.

Will I possibly regret later on? I can't tell.

Why do things happen so quickly? I need to regain my poise... Suddenly, I feel so selfish and hypocritical.

Don't know what to do. Don't know what to think. Don't know what to say.

When you have more questions than answers, you're in a dilemma; there's no way to make a decision.

Nevertheless, regardless of how things may turn out, rest assured that you'll always have my best wishes.

Let go

"Do you still like her?"
"Let's not talk about this, okay?"
"She's moving, you know?"
"Yeah."
"Then, make your move!"
"...I've decided to let go."

I don't know why, but everytime I'm in an excellent mood, someone would just say something that brings you back to the mind. Whatever is the motive: either with a kind intention or as a mere taunt, they always end up making me feel down.

Despite what we promised each other, that there won't be any awkward feelings, there's still always an invisible barrier that blocks us. You seem so distant; so hard to approach. It's just hard to treat you as a friend; because I just don't feel like I'm being treated as one. Perhaps it is me who built the chasm; perhaps I shouldn't think so much; perhaps I'm just not good enough when it comes to handling emotions.

* * * * *

"Go take a photo with her. There may not be another chance."
"No..." I feel bad enough already. Please! You're making me teary!

"Why? Why are you so quiet?"
"Nothing, just sleepy..."

Thank you, guys. I know you're asking that out of concern. But, please bear in mind that as soon as you broach this issue, it's the end of conversation.

* * * * *

I know there's little chance that you'll be reading this. But... You looked so pretty last night. Unfortunately, I had neither the chance nor the guts to compliment you then. Sorry.

"So, you're moving soon?"
"Uh, no. My family has decided to defer it for a year."

I was a little surprised that the news didn't make me feel any better. The air was heavy with a sense of longingness.

"Well, all the best!"

A warm handshake. And you gave an encouraging smile... Which I did not acknowledge. Again, sorry.

* * * * *

I thought I could live on with this feeling without reciprocal, but it turns out that it is just hard to take. Yeah, I just have to let go...

Huh? Let go? Hah! Good luck!

Sigh, I will... and must... let go...