Women can be incredibly perplexing creatures. I speak for the men here when I say we love them, but on the other hand, sometimes they make it so difficult for us to do it. It is often said that women are complex, but I would beg to differ. In fact, I believe that they can even be simple at times. This attribute however, does exist, although not quite in that way. While the female species may be simple, they have tendencies to defy understanding and rationale completely, especially in matters where emotion is involved. But then again, are humans even rational at all then, when it comes down to that? We can only keep loving them, will only keep loving them. And God help us.

Let me use an analogy of writing a computer program. It's rather akin to a situation where you are trying to write a relatively simple program. However, the problem isn't in the writing of the program. It's the fact that the language keeps modifying itself, seemingly randomly, while compiling, often defying logic itself in the process. The program itself is simple, but that's not the challenge. It's finding a way to stabilize/recognise the language's mutations and syntaxes enough in order to finish the simple program. Not so simple after all?

It's been about 2 weeks since I've been back, and all rather uneventful. The usual gatherings, the improper jokes and 3am conversations. The family dinners and late movies. Then the girl arrived, and nothing's been the same. Clashes? Unprecedented. Complications? Overwhelming. Insomnia? Dominating. Death? Looming.

As much as don't like to admit that this blog is socially/politically influenced, unfortunately, it is. I have not the ability to summon enough boldness to break that barrier this time, not just yet. Events that have transpired have ultimately landed me in this state of helplessness, loss and confusion. I don't know what to make of anything anymore. I can't read female wavelengths, I admit it, and I'm about to give up trying. Someone wake me up.

Posted at at 6/21/2009 12:32:00 AM on Sunday, June 21, 2009 by Posted by Glen |   | Filed under:

... And after a night's sleep, the world auto-recalibrates itself.

This time tomorrow, I'll be somewhere among the clouds, with thoughts of those waiting on my mind, and thoughts of those yet to come dominating it. Goodbye will be difficult. In the grand scheme of things, what is a meagre 10 days? Apart for the longest time, the days have the tendency to drag, weeks, months, years. Yet what do meagre physical barriers mean in the face of true love? Nothing.

I once read something in a fantasy book that I agree with. People tend to drag goodbyes out, until they become sad, depressing affairs. Rather, goodbyes should be short, brisk affairs, never dragged on longer than they should be. And in contrast, greetings should be the ones cherished, the moment prolonged for as long as possible, an occasion for rejoicing.

Finally moved room, though I regret it dearly. The new cramped room I'm holed up in makes a blast furnace feel cool. The move itself was a terribly complicated and messy procedure, which took me the greater part of the day, not to mention about 2 days before simply in preparation, like packing. 7 trips back and forth the old and new rooms, not only monotonous but also labour-intensive. It went alright though, and I managed it alone (with the help of a trusty trolley) (the brand was Prestar - Made in Japan. I spent the greater part of the day staring at the ground, and consequently, the logo, while pushing it), despite the sheer amount of stuff (I'm estimating about ~300kg between a distance of 500m). The reason it went okay was due to the fact that it somehow, at least, managed to engage my brain, in planning the most efficient load makeup required in order to move all the items in the least possible number of trips. Turned into a game of sorts, and stopped me from killing myself in boredom.

One of the boxes (the heaviest one, with books), collapsed off the trolley in the middle of the carpark road during the 4th trip, emptying about 50kg of books and paper onto the floor, broken box to boot. A Malay man helped me out though, if only just to lift a finger. After 5 minutes, it was all I needed to remedy the situation, and thankfully someone provided it.

According to the management, I was supposed to have been able to receive help in moving my stuff over. However, when I went to the desk in order to proceed with the check-out and enquire about help with my room, I was not only surprised to be attended to by two security guards, but was also shocked that they (somewhat nervously, in hindsight) denied the existence of any such "service" provided. Then in walked the man I've been liaising with himself, who gave me the news that I would have to move rooms, personally. To cut the long story short, guess who the "workers" were supposed to be?

Which leads me to this realisation: does the initial perception of ones status in first impressions really make that huge a difference on dealings with the same people after that, despite knowing their true place? In this case, I couldn't bring myself to call back to the check-out office and ask those two security guards to come down and help me move my things, having first been introduced to them when they helped me handle my check-out administration. Perhaps in my mind, albeit arbitrarily, they filed in a higher social status that I'd have expected a "worker" moving my things would have. In addition, I doubt I'd be able to summon the courage to ask any "worker" to move my things for me had I known him personally, even as an acquaintence, or even carried a conversation with him. It's much easier to be interpersonal and ignore the fact that we're all equals, all human in this race, isn't it, especially when ordering another to do work possibly accomplished by oneself? Is our society still truly hierarchical under it's facade of equality and democracy? Or is it just me?

New phone ftw.




Watched Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist with the girl, and definitely recommend it to anyone who wants to finally see a movie that doesn't portray love as some idealistic, perfect thing, but rather something imperfect, something awkward, but ultimately something human. The most human, realistic love story I've ever seen really. Anyone who's liked the movies I've occasionally recommended, and likes a take of a slice of ordinary life, with it's bits of awkwardness and love icing on the top, this one's worth your while.

I should go, got sleep to catch up on. I can't sleep properly on planes for nuts, instead wading dreamily through the twilight zone, misted over with headache and pressure irregularities.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder.

Posted at at 6/08/2009 02:21:00 AM on Monday, June 8, 2009 by Posted by Glen |   | Filed under:

After it's all said and done, at the end of the day, I just come to realise that in the end, I'm just as flawed as anyone, worse even. No matter how much I tell myself that I'll get it right, that I won't be a letdown, it appears I fail still. And the words, they hurt. Hurt not in ego, nor in intellect, but simply hurt as a reflection of that inflicted, carried in shapes of letters, keen daggers, they burn.


Why does it have to be this way? We make it a habit of keeping hurts to ourselves. Theory has shown that hurts are much better dealt with when exposed right away, but time and again, something keeps us from revealing them, but at what cost? Does one realise that in withholding hurts, one damages not only themselves and the relationship, but ultimately, when expulsed in an overflow of negative emotion, the other person? And yet, we continue to keep hurts in, thinking we're protecting the other, thinking ourselves overtly sensitive, attempting to diminish the hurt in our minds, lacking the boldness to state plainly that a hurt had been recieved. Is it of fear of negative reprisal? Then, in that case, one should bear in mind the greatly augmented reaction experienced in response to a collection of hurt, unleashed at once, upon a person.

For whatever reason, something prevents us, particularly Asians in Asian culture, from divulging precious, albeit sensitive information, in an interspersed, timely, and harmless manner. It's a bind, a weakness of our culture, in my opinion. Fears of embarrassment, fears of acting out of turn. Hurts accumulate, instead of being dealt with immediately. A lack of straightforwardness and openness bred deep in our culture has produced a generation of politically geared, multi-faceted, over-cautious and suspicious minds, myself included. Forthrightness has been demolished, and in it's place, layers of political intrigue, presided over on overt assumption, has been established. Curse it. I'm tired of trying to read between lines of what people say, of trying to glean information where there is none, or missing heavily layered and disguised intention under seemingly unimposing phrases. Someone wake me up.

The result? Misunderstanding. Incongruence. Leading, of course, to multiple sustained, but contained, hurts, due to the lack of knowledge on the other's part. Eventually, it becomes too much to contain, and the bitterness withheld is unleashed in a torrent, possibly along with pain, anger, resentment, and the rest. Many of these echo and resonate in the target of the onslaught, along with something else: shock. As pointed out earlier, this is probably the first time this party ha been made privy to the presence of what is only now recognised as a string of multiple hurts. Unfortunately, by this time, any apologies issued are already too late; the hurt has been festering, and no amount of consolation will stem the flow, and the resulting residues. Any pleas, protests, apologies, or cries are drowned out in the outpouring of previously collecting and undisclosed hurt. Consequently, once the burden has been offloaded, communication is immediately cut by the initiator (a result of the emotional flux), leaving the other in a state of shock after the ordeal, after vague, futile attempts to establish some form of communication are unsuccessful.

To be continued.

We cry.

Posted at at 6/03/2009 02:10:00 AM on Wednesday, June 3, 2009 by Posted by Glen |   | Filed under:
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