the notuary.

certain seating plans on the MRT

2012-01-20T00:37:00.001+08:00

I take the same train everyday

the 06.57, housing three 1-year-old institutions to voyeur

the 40-something housewife clutching a basket empty

the short-skirted teen with self-esteem made from fleeting glances

and the straight-laced male executive wedged in between

conjoined triplets craving

what little acknowledgement of their existence

beyond the beeps of their punch cards

on society’s gantries

the auntie is charity’s druggie

enacting a daily habit

of dominating thrones, only to abdicate

to the most wretched case she sees

and then mistaking gratitude for willingness

to listen to life stories

when everyone would rather eavesdrop

on everyone’s iphone

or not at all.

I know where the guy stands, ramrod straight

the way he looks at the opposite window

without excuse

a brazen criminal after the tunnels of Tiong Bahru

to memorise every minute detail

whereupon in the evenings after work

he would pore over photos on facebook, half-naked

and finding none, settle for someone else instead.

the girl likes to stand at raffles place

after a generous 7-minute display of her thighs

to offer an additional serving of the rear

even while she endures incessant droning and a warm fuzzy feeling

pretending to use her phone

she celebrates others’ lives online

everyday’s 23-minute ride

starring weird auntie and stalker uncle

where likes and comments and cattle prods

become vindication of one’s worth.

people play-pretend isolation

when in fact, they desire to touch

more than just plastic hand-grips or cool metal bars.

palliative care

2012-01-18T14:32:00.003+08:00

silent foetus -

when you went, it was head first

severing the cord only made you grow more

at life they hunger, they beg, they claw

with refreshed firmware, just plug-and-play

like you saying through a Zeitgeist, hey, I'm ok

stillborn child-

silver-haired, but frothing the same bile

no longer the jaundiced yellow-skin, but forever blue

only green waves, breaking the humming plateau

how they crash, never to return

only foaming waste in grey machine, churn

alone I wait, here in the wings

until the most frequented went rare, and then ceased to being

ever-patient, with permanent room-and-board

one becomes just a number that they jot

so here’s to you, my last ode

then let my hands rest down on your throat

unspoken rest, ten years late

asphyxiate, asphyxiate.

an addict’s morning

2012-01-18T14:32:00.001+08:00

auntie downs a cup of drugs

to which her lips smacks simultaneously, in their

caffeined agreement and

an experienced tongue follows, consuming every

last bit of excitement

forking her way around each hollow

like a lover’s appendage

in another

- - she can only fantasise

and then to conclude her daily routine with a

240-volt smile

on the back of her palm-sized mirror

a spotlight that demands immediate fall-in

from her new plastic recruits

satisfied, the drill sergeant inspects her tanned veterans

at flimsy attention on stamped soil

and commands them to henta-taki twice

before pulling out a shoe brush laced with white kiwi

to flush all traces of today, tomorrow, and every other day’s high

down the porcelain sink of her forgotten youth.

the Queen as a victim of circumstance

2011-11-01T13:38:00.001+08:00

mirror, mirror on the wall

who in the land is fairest of all? – Snow White and the Seven Dwarves

Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the

abyss gazes also into you. – Friedrich Nietzsche

triumphant Dictators waltzing in with both

heads held aloft

trumpeting their victories when

while treasure chests have burst at their seams

vaults can still be rented

where they are again

immortalised and savouring pride long gone

naked swashbucklers without being reminded of breaking their buckles.

virgins want to cast no coloured shadow in the reflector

that acknowledges their cubicled existence

rather prefer a stay in the anonymous dungeon cell

and its ceramic-tiled partitions

unlike certain parrots who perch up the highest rung and reign

with talons wide open, even on the shoulders of their giants.

yet all lasses eventually skip to the loo

(collectively because they are too afraid to face themselves alone)

dainty darlings who between hops and spins to draw applause

question their art privately in a studio of mirrors

isn’t ballet supposed to be choreographed so?

still when it comes to en pointe

all they can hear are commands to spread or lift

and work them for grunts of approval.

when exile comes via infirmity

they’re bestowed Her Majesties in lone thrones

abandon polishing to slice apple skin

vain attempts to prevent fair maidens from committing the same sin

but only divining one count behind or in front

condemned to the same time-lapsed pirouette dance.

close one eye.

2011-10-29T20:18:00.000+08:00

no wins, no mentions, so everything's out in the open.

You died

Starving

Not the only one

with a three second memory.

Scavenged treasure chests

deserve a sea burial, no less

opening the creaky hinge

I stare into (my own) greed already sunk

and then I walk you 9 storeys high

to plank you down in refuse

while you sailed your membraned globe

I was the lone constellation, the northern star

the one sailors of your kind worship, devouring

your radiance with beige palm-shaped clouds

when it pleases me -

yet darkness engulfs us both

I peer into my blinkered periscope and observe

how your scurvied skeleton surface

when I drop rusty depth charges that are

defused, with equal parts desperation,

disdain, and contempt

you’ve lost your bearings, and so too my moral heading

I remember now

what Guilt forgot

obfuscated under a childish grin of

smoke and mirrors and

a selective eyepatch.

what's your motivation?

2011-10-21T17:59:00.000+08:00

everytime there's a slight, nurse that internal fury and fester it deep down inside, until an explosion into something beautiful. spurred on, just to prove everyone (and no one) in particular, dead wrong. there is, and must be, a universal arbiter. or just build the damned system that respects you.

grandma’s in Wonderland.

2011-08-30T16:14:00.001+08:00

something i submitted for movingwords, but it didn't win. I suppose for good reasons: a somewhat magical, imaginative leap of dementia, with a sprinkling of artistic and factual liberty. on the other hand, i did win the Before We Forget Photo Challenge, which perhaps was an all-together weaker competition. I would have preferred this though. But it still makes for a good combination.

Mad hatter

Buck-toothed, crazy-eyed,

even logic’s said its good-bye.

Literary nonsense couldn’t prepare us more

For You licking gruel off the ground floor

Track-marked face

North-south, or East-West?

now the cheshire cat asks in jest.

your habitual grandson-to-grandson trips a month ago

that’s when Your mind’s concession decided to go

We can afford it

A private car, private carriage,

only when your mind’s turned to cabbage.

Grant you your shimmery rosary beads

Drawn by a foreign tanned steed

Your last

Train is coming, train is coming

In case of emergency, press to hear the fat lady sing.

Or if You’d prefer, I have Your storybook, let’s go

Thud-thud-thud-again, down the Rabbit Hole

because every dog has its day.

2011-07-18T21:07:00.002+08:00

because between a taxi-driver and a factory worker, between sharing 6 years of education culminating in a PSLE certificate, between a 3-room HDB flat that we can never seem to get out of, between hilarious attempts at learning (broken) english greetings, between life, till now, and the sum of its parts, between sorry-i-can't-take-you-to-another-continent-but-at-least-a-malay-palace-with-a-head-of-state, we can finally look back and laugh, with hope, pride, and vindication.

scrutinise the party manifestos, okay?

2011-04-29T01:06:00.000+08:00

sick and tired of 'concerned' Singaporeans groveling for concrete ideas (instead of vague rhetoric) from the incumbent or the opposition. Perhaps efforts spent espousing your political alignment would be better served googling for more information. The net, unfortunately, makes it much easier to whine than to click search.

PAP
Additional government policies - to its credit

WP

NSP

SDP

SPP

SDA

City of Buzz, Revisited.

2010-10-31T19:09:00.005+08:00

A repost of the article that I wrote for the Enquirer, unedited. Not that I feel my points were murdered or bastardised, hardly so. But sometimes seeing the points in conjunction enables a better train of thought and transmission of ideas, rather than them being disjointed by breaks and spaces. Which, unfortunately, is what the nature of news is still unable to provide for. And that's when blogs step up.

Building the City of Buzz – Concrete Instructions Please

Senior Minister Goh Chok Tong threw down the gauntlet yesterday to NTU students - to build and imagine a future for Singapore as a “City of Buzz”. Singapore has grown from a third-world backyard to the first-world nation, and it is now up to the current generation to take Singapore further, he said.

Except the current crop are clueless architects in the wider scheme of things. Even when weaned off the mother’s milk, we still stand in the long shadow of a paternal government.

SM Goh spoke of the importance of a good, strong government that can be trusted to “look after your lives”. Only then can the “bottom-up buzz” that the government seeks to grow flourish.

Undoubtedly, the “hardware” is up. The Senior Minister spoke at length about the government’s efforts in creating an infrastructure and economy that can support buzz at a grassroots level. The “software”, then, would need to be implemented by the people.

So What’s the New Buzzword?

Which begs the question, how do we define the ‘bottom-up buzz’? Is it solely buzz generated by the people, or must it be supported by the government?

Unfortunately, SM Goh spent the better half of his speech totalling up Singapore’s recent successes. Students were left hanging on the exact kind of buzz that Singapore needed, which explained the recurring theme of the Q&A session. It centred on concocting the right kind of buzz in areas such as civil and political participation and the arts scene.

There are clearly approved buzz and those that aren’t, such as the droning of vuvuzelas. Certain brands of criticism are not as welcome. Where then to draw such a distinction is still unclear. Ng Wai Mun, a Year 4 student at the Wee Kim Wee School of Communications and Information, brought out a similar point when she asked whether the ‘buzz’ that the government was encouraging included a certain amount of chaos and creativity.

In response, SM Goh emphasised the need to maintain a sufficient amount of control through “step-by-step” deregulation instead. It seemed to imply that an invisible hand was at play in moulding what the government thinks is the appropriate type of buzz.

Organically Grown – But By Whom?

Indeed, much of the current ‘buzz’ can be considered artificially generated by the government. The Senior Minister mentioned Duxton Hill, which now oozed “financial buzz” after being cleaned of vice and sleaze. Yet, some might contend that such areas reflect the real Singapore beneath the shimmery surface.

Furthermore, the government took the lead in transforming “a cultural desert only for makan” into an oasis in Asia. But how much of that oasis is left for the touristic consumption and how much for genuine local nostalgia is anyone’s guess.

The Youth Olympic Games also showed how our sporting talents took second-place behind the much-vaunted need to showcase and promote Singapore. The development of the sporting culture seemed like more of an afterthought, a bonus to Singapore. One just needs to remember the sorry state of the National Stadium and the current FAS troubles to realise that. Buzz that has little economic potential just isn’t worth the government throwing its weight behind it.

Economic imperatives have ruled the day Singapore won its independence. The common wisdom doesn’t seem to have changed much. Buzz seems to be appropriate as long as it doesn’t meddle with the government’s magic formula of stability and progress.

It is essential to have citizenry buy-in into this vision of buzz. So long that the population deems the creation to be entirely artificial and only within accepted government parameters, the “bottom-up buzz” that it hopes for will never take flight. If not implemented with the human factor, buzz might just dissolve into pure hype and marketing, which fails to translate into tangibles.

Not Yet Ready to Leave the Nest

Some ground sentiment expressed dissatisfaction at “stupid” questions being tabled in the Forum. Macro issues of paramount importance were neglected in favour of micro concerns that should be more appropriate somewhere else. Yet, that is just a reflection of the conundrum at heart: has the authorities opened enough channels in engaging us, or do we lack the initiative to voice our concerns, since the government has always specified the correct route of action?

The Senior Minister also dropped a hefty election hint when he called upon NTU students to think hard and decide the kind of government they want to make it work, especially if they want to pass on all the problems they have to the government. But judging from the audience, we already know.

A complete schematic of a city on a silver platter, please. If the government has held our hand every step of the way, why stop now? The obedient child only gets spanked when he’s out of line. And this line is increasingly blurred as the government plays a game of hopscotch: one step forward in deregulating, and one step back when it deems certain buzz inappropriate.

Bottoms-Up to Bottom Up

Rome wasn’t built in one day, and Singapore isn’t likely to either. But for Singapore to truly succeed in being a “City of Buzz” for everyone, someone has to stop passing the buck, and build the bridges that really matter. Perhaps the ‘buzz’ needed, is to better market the channels between the government and the people.

When Alvin Pee, a Year 3 student from Aerospace Engineering, bemoaned the lack of avenues available for Singaporeans to be heard, SM Goh responded that the engagement process was always there. Whether citizens use it or not is up to their initiative.

The Feedback Unit has shed its image of being a government mouthpiece, but it is still essentially an avenue only for the elite, students, and the politically and socially concerned. Previous resources, obviously, should not be allocated mindlessly for widespread consultations on minor policy decisions. Such a process would no doubt curtail the efficiency of the government. But when it comes to policies such as HOTA, which affects everybody intimately, including the common man on the street, perhaps it would be better for the government to actively engage the citizenry on such issues, rather than relying on existing mechanisms.

question.

2010-10-11T00:30:00.002+08:00

Why am I paying the school for my internship, even if I self-source? It's not as if their industrial contacts represent the golden guildhouses of Singapore, nor has NTU's administrative support been extremely forthcoming when it comes to job scopes and crucial information regarding PI.

the inconvenient truth, i'm afraid.

2010-09-17T19:55:00.003+08:00

Congratulations to NTU. Probably now they will finally get mentions in the Sunday Times Investor Profile column, under 'What's your worst investment to date?'

Whatever happened to the research direction, which happened to be amongst the worst-performing.

Nothing quite like pulling the rug from underneath your feet when you're about to intern or graduate. Let's stop fighting over which school has that higher pay packet for their newly-minted graduates now, eh?

Now, how about 'NTU punching above its weight?' Isn't that something nice, to go with the little one that could...

Reality is a harsh mistress, so let's commit adultery (again).

2010-09-01T00:25:00.018+08:00

something similar to david foster wallace, which i've promised myself to write but never had the motivation to.

The egoist has done it before, and seen it all before. or rather, them. in their naked, all-revealing splendour. Somehow their genuine honesty appealed, seduced, and brought him to bed them (and with them). But then the egoist grew tired, as all children will with their newfound toys. he outgrew that anal phase, the times when the egoist used to play the anti-hero just for a romantic, pseudo-masochistic fun (and still does, somewhat, because it's no fun being non self-centered), with all of these Greco-Roman muses surrounding him, on his frescos, on the buttresses, chiding, busying themselves about the egoist, changing his soiled nappies, and molly-coodling the frequent cries for attention. The egoist doesn't need parents as much as he desires the centering of all sounds equal upon him - as if the inertia of the whole world resided, not outside of him, nor independent of him. He felt, in a sense, like meta-inertia itself, defining the laws of motion, of speak and thought, so much that he felt a very delightful sense of weightlessness whenever coos and 'chiaks' punctuated his constant need for adoration - he felt like giving birth to small samples of himself, and very often it was so.

Then the egoist couldn't take the centering of undivided attention around him anymore. Because no matter how he was placed upon the pedestal, elavated to pseudo-climatic heights, showered with pomp, flair, and confetti, he couldn't stop feeling that the entire act was one of pseudo-irony (the irony being that he, the egoist, manufactured the entire stage upon which he carefully manipulated others to parade him on - it was a glaring hole in his heart that ate away at him unconsciously - he never realised the absurdity of the situation, otherwise he would perhaps have delighted himself, for a full month, wallowing in that half-conundrum-half-nectar of pseudo meta-thought. That (by that meaning, that general feeling of satirised showmanship) was only found out on hindsight, and even then, long into his second marriage) where he was the sole true actor, director, and stage-hand who carefully preened himself before indulging in majestic hand-waving upon his ivory tower, between occasions of royal appearances. Being the hypocritically egoist that he is, nothing defined him so much as the courtly scenes, but he craved an understanding of self and purpose that he felt could make him even more outstanding that he already is. It was self-actualisation, nor self-endorsement, that he would later come to understand in the last few years of his life, that defined his tumultuous periods while ding-donging between the blatant acting-acting, and acting phrase.

The egoist first met Reality during a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous (which he, in the tumultuous and trying periods of his self-centered, grand life, was forcing himself to eat some humble pie in the form of a condescending period of woe-is-me-battling alcohol addiction, which he mostly staged by play-pretend, which at that turning point in life where he had already impressively impersonated so many diverse personae that acting out such a 'weak' character, was, in his own way, eating humble pie. Except with one hand tied behind his back. This was to characterise his own 'blue' period that was similar to Picasso (so he would have thought, if he had familiarised himself with Art earlier), where he battled numerous depressions and addictions in an admirable way to once again centre numerous forces upon inertia (i.e, himself)). At first, the egoist thought nothing about Reality as she seemed so much like the harem before (which he now had nothing to show for but growing disdain, day by day, like the alcoholic poison that was secreting into his veins), right down to the coos and sighs, almost like the gentle rhythm of the arm-cradle they always put him on when he was young. Reality took turns listening to each attention-seeking scoundrel without fault, nodding and encouraging at every turn, giving the compulsory Group Therapy 101's constant eye-contact (with nary a judgement - she was consciously forcing herself to, or so he thought she thought. The intrigue was haunting.). Later, he was to realise that she had nothing but the utmost contempt for the bunch of intoxicated lost souls that literally fell over their own logic and reasoning feet trying to explain their cesspool of misery. To her, it was just a day-job of constant prodding of cattle into emptying their foul bowels, nodding repeatedly so much she could almost fall asleep at their mantra chants with the usual mix of depression, regret, humiliation, and the like. A toxic cesspool of nothing else that even the egoist doesn't dare to tread, knowing that a single misstep would swallow him up like quicksand and leave him flailing and indulging in the everyday delight of woe-is-me-misery (which in this sense would not fulfil him his meta-desire for attention seeing that he only succeeds when he consciously knows that he gets it, not when he doesn't).

The egoist did not recall the first meeting when Truth stripped bare and stood in her naked splendour in front of him. He had an impression that a cunning snake had just shed its ridiculously camouflaged skin (which he felt, much like his, was the product of society being unable to see past mere façades, its impotency at handling below-surface, unconscious and yet all-too-evident inconvenient Truths, which excited him further) ready to wrap itself around its prey (ie. him) and swallow it hole ((since he desires an acknowledgement of his own existence, and a partner well-versed at façade-deconstruction, (ie, who takes no shit from him) who reveals his most inner core emotions that is unbeknownst even to himself, which he knows really that would perhaps destroy him utterly and render him a stark raving fool)).

For five long years the egoist carried on his sordid affair with Reality, eager to discover his true purpose and character from his self-appointed prophet. Her initial words sprouted like pearls of wisdom which he eagerly lapped up (which in retrospect, was akin to horoscoping or interactive personality tests, much to his disgust). Her economy with words left him starved for more as he felt it explained the very depths of his soul. Catharsis on a cigar pipe. Sometimes the situation called for a waterweed one with numerous fruity flavours that bubbled constantly, just like his certain insecurities, which were tremendously breaking the surface, breaking waves, before dissonating down to calm waves again. He quickly adapted the part of the armchair patient, couched into a foetal position (which she explained as a natural reflex from having too little love too late), while Reality adopted the cross-legged, Freudian approach, listening for long stretches before telling him 'how I feel' which for short, she knew he knew, and he knew she knew, stood for what-utter-rubbish-nonsensical-hyperbole-ridiculously-overblown-self-concocted-misery-this-is-others-have-much-more-to-worry-about-like-the-famines-in-Africa. Yet while he secretly hid that innate desire and defense reflex to belt around her oft-nodding posture and tug tightly around her slender, slim neck, the non-judgement of the woman left him reeling, much in a sadomasochist fashion (if experts in that area were to agree, but they tend to live awfully short lives). The pain let him grow and question his true meaning in life. He could no longer deceive nor could he stand to. Rather, his characteristic evolution in mindset led to an eventual understanding that he could do no harm both to himself and Reality.

Yet, in the later years of the affair, the egoist found his interest waning. No longer did he view her as the all encompassing truth, but rather just a second-level discourse masquerading, as a natural law. (As an empiricist, or rather, as pressured to feel and talk and think like an empiricist, because he couldn't take the humiliating stand as a relativist, seeing how that would demand stating that he was, at best, as right as everyone, which certainly to his all-powerful-righteous-let's-take-the-opposite-path, not-because-I'm-right, but-because-I-can perspective, would obliterate his tightly-held belief.

Ok, shit, so you can't write anymore. Because you know that it's been going downward really quickly in the grand trajectory of all things good. It's like the rollercoaster going off its rails, which to everyone but the passenger is great stuff, really, but not to you. You wonder how you can continue calling the bluff, like adding more chips to the table and maintaining that scornful, scoundrel smile, like you've cheated the entire world, including your mom and the poor abandoned puppy dog to be here, piling chips, looking suave. When in fact you have. Because you've lead your readers into such a quagmire of anti-climax. Like the imp-things that lead the adventurous into the oasis only to lure them into quicksand and grin while they drown in the language of make-believe that you know they know it's make-believe but hey it's OK, since everyone does that to make themselves look smart anyway and everyone wants to pretend to know how to read some smart-ass' book on the public transport and say hey that's the way I see it and thus look smart by association and then you can stand up on your podium and sign books and just point to any prominent smart-ass' book review and say that's how you meant it all along when in fact it's just smart-ass analysing that counts for nothing and you just wrote something to bring in the dough and look intelligent doing it.

So how are you going to solve it? And worse yet, how are you going to stop the smart-asses from telling faithful smart-ass readers that the egoist draws parallel with your own life? Because you aren't sure at all are you. Like looking down a mirror, or the oily patch of water after rain, that it's not yourself. That you just write 'on the spur of the moment' since spontaneous talent, obviously, is the desired intellectual high snuff, as unexplainable as spontaneous combustion, except with more longevity. So how do you convince them that it's not you, or maybe, not only you, that it's something everybody can relate to (since that sells copies like none other), that their favourite author has not jumped the shark and sold out and sold his naked baring soul for a princely sum of twenty-one dollars and sixty-nine cents inclusive of GST at all major bookstores just for your adoring fans' pleasure?

You can, maybe, include that above. By looking at it as a meta-meta-fiction, it seems as if it's deliberately saying something about nothing, putting a higher level upon the pyramid. You know how nothing appears. It's the idea of nothing that seems like something that everyone just so crazily loves to bits. Like how everyone wants to see the wonders of the world, and the word meta sounds so damned high-concept by default when in fact it's just a Ponzi scheme except that you market intangible incomprehensible pseudo-ideas that really, when boiled down to its core, makes no sense at all. Especially when everyone has their own takeaways since they'll link it to some traumatic parts of their lives and comprehend it as if it's that that, and they'll argue over book clubs over how their take is the best and finally, because they really can't leave the book club where they stake their entire social intellectual lives upon, agree to disagree on the finer points and instead conclude on how talented and feted this work of the century truly should be.

So Reality, is, what it is. Is that cryptic enough yet? Maybe you should sleep awhile and wake up with a new muse instead. And the egoist? Damn the egoist.

The Complete Walkthrough to Jonkoping

2010-08-23T02:16:00.005+08:00

Prior to choosing and going to Jonkoping, I did not have a lot of information on it, so it was slightly difficult going. But with the benefit of hindsight, things could have been much much easier. So here's a complete guide to the little town I call home!

Please let me know if you have any questions, or how this guide can be further improved!

Why Choose Jonkoping in Sweden?
1. The chance to travel Europe. It is much more diverse than the US (different countries have vastly different cultures – plus quite a bit more to see and do)
2. Cheaper than the US (if you plan to travel a lot – due to the weak Pound, Euro, and Swedish Krona, and also Ryanair)
3. Sweden is the cheapest of the Scandinavian region
4. Very safe, and people are friendly and speak English very well
5. The Swedish ‘Quality of Life’ mentality gets to you
6. Vastly different from Singapore’s urban environment – Jonkoping is an urban small town, with a generous dose of nature. You might find yourself lost and bored after 6, since there’s not a lot of shopping to be found, but you’ll slowly love to appreciate their way of life.
7. Slack classes!
8. Relatively close to Ryanair airport (Stockholm Skavsta is around 4 hours away). I can only recall Hertfordshire being closer, of all the universities that offer CS courses.
a. IMPT – Being close to Ryanair airports are VERY important if you intend to travel cheap and tour all of Europe – Ryanair flights are the cheapest way to travel, and beats trains and coaches all the time (tickets can cost as little as 5 pounds one way)

Burning Course-Related Questions
You’ll be able to do a maximum of 5 courses, 19 AUs. Choose from News Production (match for COM221), TV Production (COM225), Multimedia Production (COM229), Internet Production, International and Intercultural Communication (COM458) Swedish Language (UE).
They’re more project based, but it’s still quite slack and easy to just pass. Swedish semesters are divided into 2 periods, each lasting about 2 months, with a recess week in between. Internet Production stretches over 2 periods, so it’s not as recommended.

Before You Depart – Getting Ready
1. Visa matters
a. Apply for a Visa at the Swedish Embassy, which is near Newton (the Singapore Power Building). Costs 200 SGD.
i. Application is pretty fast, note that they will only give you a Visa that stretches you 2 weeks before and after term time (which gives you very little time to travel)
1. But most classes can be skipped (teachers are pretty liberal about that) – I travelled during term time and for 1 month after my term, covering about 25 cities
2. You can either:
a. Overstay – Potentially dangerous, since there are frequent passport checks for domestic (which means Ryanair) flights. You will confirmed be checked when flying back to Singapore, so it’s dealing with luck. Overland travel (train, coach) will have significantly less visa checks, but might still occur.
b. Apply for extension – Can only be done when you reach Jonkoping. Must have valid reason (but the school will try to help you). The Migration Board is a bit difficult to find. It’s in an ulu building in the City Centre. Costs 200 SGD.
c. Leave the UK for the last leg – Travel the Schengen Area during term time, and leave for the UK when your Visa expires. The UK is out of the Schengen Area, so you have 1 month to travel there. But you will have to lug your luggage around and find one place to store.
i. Schengen Area explanation – Swedish Visas are also Schengen visas, which permit you to enter other Schengen areas (most European states are Schengen) for up to 90 days (although they won’t really count). But once the Visa expires, you cannot enter the areas even as a tourist (some countries might take exception but you have to ask their immigrations first)
2. Buying your plane ticket
a. There are no direct flights to Jonkoping (Jonkoping’s Axamo Airport is relatively small), so the best way to get to Jonkoping is by flight to Copenhagen or Stockholm, and then a train/coach to Jonkoping.
i. Copenhagen is a very busy airport, and while tickets to there are usually cheaper than Stockholm, the airport staff is extremely picky about luggage allowance (only 7kg hand carry, and 32kg check-in). Stockholm is said to be more lax (unverified).
ii. Can look into Thai Airways and Scandinavian Airlines. They’re usually cheaper.
iii. Normally the earlier you buy, the cheaper it is. But occasionally airlines run promos.
iv. STA dangles the extra luggage carrot. But the fact is that you can also get the extra luggage (at least for Thai Airways) if you go to their office with your e-ticket and your acceptance form to Jonkoping. STA is a travel agent, and will still get a bit of commission for their efforts. Do check, however, if the airline offers extra luggage for students.
b. From Copenhagen, you can take a Swebus coach to Jonkoping. Book online, the earlier it is the cheaper. Check the timings first, as there are only 3 trips a day. You’re looking for FROM Kastrup Terminal 2 (Kastrup is Copenhagen’s Airport – Just wait outside the terminal, at the bus stop, earlier than the time – Europeans are VERY punctual) TO Jonkoping.
c. From Stockholm, you have to take the Arlanda Express (a special airport train which is rather expensive) to Stockholm Central, and then a coach or train to Jonkoping. Book online as well. You’re looking for FROM Stockholm Cityterm to Jonkoping.
d. Trains are available also, but the duration is similar. It’s also more expensive, and you have to make transfers. They can also be late, causing extra stress. Also, they don’t allow online booking for non-European credit cards. You’ll be looking at from Köbenhavns Lufthavn/Kastrup (for Copenhagen) or Stockholm C to Jonkoping.
e. Try to time your arrival so that you can use the pickup service from the University. It’s much easier than trying to find your way around, lugging 30kg luggage in the snow (not fun at all in negative temperatures).
3. Travel Insurance
a. Buy NTUC Income’s travel insurance, not AIG’s. The AIG plan that STA recommends does not cover you for travel delays (it’s just illnesses and lost belongings). I recouped 1k for Iceland’s volcanic eruption. AIG plan-holders won’t. Get more people to purchase as a group for more savings.
4. Luggage Packing
a. Get space bags for packing from Daiso (it’s 2 SGD for one really big one) to vacuum your stuff, compared to DIY fixit which costs around 15.
b. Don’t bring too much clothes, especially if you plan on shopping there. Winter and Summer sales (mid Jan and Jul) has 70 percent off, which makes most things cheaper than Singapore.
c. Try to top up the 32kg with foodstuff (instant noodles and porridge, etc). There’s only 1 Asian supermarket there, and stuff is pretty expensive.
5. Winter Clothing
a. You’ll probably arrive in early-mid-Jan, so Winter Sales are still ongoing. Winterwear is much cheaper there, and much better as well. Just one winter jacket is fine. Boots are pretty optional.
b. You can make a trip to Stockholm to stock up on clothes, or the flea market (every Saturday 8am – 1 pm at the Culturehouse) or the Red Cross shop (near Sofiakrykan – Sofiachurch)
i. Winter jackets can be as cheap as 10 SGD used or 30 SGD new from H&M
c. I found thermalwear to be useless, so it’s your call whether to buy any from Singapore.
6. Apply for ISIC and Hosteling International Cards
a. ISIC card is cheap, and can be used for discounts in Germany (especially Berlin’s CityHostel Berlin) and Spain
b. Hosteling International lets you pay lesser for affiliated hostels, and some hostels can only be booked by members. These hostels tend to be better serviced and have curfews.
7. Apply for UOB Campus Visa Card
a. Allows for 3 free withdrawals overseas every month, so you really don’t need to open a bank account there with a cheque. The exchange rate is pretty good. Plus you can skip the whole exchange to another currency thing whenever you go to another country. Remember to ask for the free withdrawals when you apply, and show proof that you’re going for exchange.
8. Keep up to date with the International Association at Jonkoping University.
a. They run pub crawls, overseas trips (eg. Russia and Norway), and the very popular Kiruna trip (which is worth every penny, even if you don’t see the Northern Lights)
b. Sign up for their contact person and contact family programme. You’ll be offered help in finding your way around the town, and experience Swedish culture!
9. Apply for Accommodation
a. You’ll be offered a few choices – Vilhemlsro, Grashagen, Delta, Raslatt, Tenhult
i. Vilhemisro is pretty far from the university, and the bus service is very infrequent. You share a common kitchen and bathrooms, and interact with a lot of international students.
ii. Grashagen is relatively closer to school. The bus is frequent, and you have your own kitchen and bathroom. If you choose a double room, one bed is in the kitchen/living room. But it’s still pretty good for me, plus you get to meet our friendly Swedish lady! (see below)
iii. Delta is in the city centre, and you can walk to school. But it’s the oldest of all the accommodation. Common areas also.
iv. Raslatt is in the suburbs (previously the ghettos of Jonkoping, but still very safe) Further than Grashagen. You share the kitchen and toilet, like a HDB flat, with your own room.
v. Tenhult is a train ride away. The furthest from school. It’s the biggest and you pay the cheapest rent, but it’s really inconvenient.
b. Bring your own bedsheets!

Once You Get There – Orientation Time
1. Buy bus tickets
a. You can buy the Periodkort (like our concession card) at the Pressbyran stores. It costs around 100 SGD. In the spring/summertime, you can save money by walking (which is recommended – soak in the Swedish summer!)
2. Buy Prepaid Mobile Plans
a. You’ll get a SIM card in your welcome package when you get there. The best plan to buy is the Kompis plan, which allows free SMS to other Kompis plans, and free calls (with a 69 ore startup cost).
b. You can buy the plan at any supermarket or Pressbyran.
3. Supermarkets
a. There are a lot of supermarkets, such as ICA, Coop Forum and Willys.
b. Generally Willys is the cheapest (and the one at Tokarp is quite convenient), but Maxi-ICA (near the industrial part of the city) and Coop Forum (at the A6 shopping centre) can also be cheap sometimes.
c. The only Asian supermarket is at Tokarp. It’s pretty expensive.
4. Eating Out
a. The student meals at Evergreen (near the school and the Lassaretsparken bus stop) cost 59SEK, which is pretty cheap. You can get a salad buffet, drink, and a pizza of your choice.
b. Afterwork Buffet (a Friday evening tradition) is also cheap at O’Learys Sportsbar at 49SEK (but there’s a coat charge of 20SEK..)
c. Cheap lunches are also plentiful, especially at Jensens (at the city terminal, costing some 49 SEK), or IKEA (16 SEK for meatballs)

Tips for Travelling Cheap
1. Budget airlines
a. Ryanair, Wizzair and EasyJet are the common European budget carriers. Ryanair is usually the cheapest. Wizzair is vital for Eastern Europe travelling.
i. Ryanair runs special promos most Mondays and Thursdays. Buy tickets when they run their promos offering special prices tickets (5-10 pounds)
ii. These budget carriers don’t let you do transfers easy, but you can make your own transfers between them.
2. Swebus
a. More expensive for travel during Thursdays to Saturdays. Try to buy for other days.
3. SJ
a. You can buy them in the ticket machine at Jonkoping’s train station, with your credit card (strangely)
b. Some tickets are ridiculously cheap, as long as you buy early (eg. 1 month in advance). Can be cheaper than Swebus.
c. Or, buy last minute tickets (24hours till travel), which can also be very cheap.
4. Other train services
a. DB Bahn (Germany’s trains) often has specials for their City Night Line sleeper trains. Check regularly, and you can get 39 euros for a ticket.
5. Hostel-booking sites
a. Hostelworld, Hostels.com, or Hostelbookers.com
i. You can check their prices, which tend to differ somewhat, even for the same hostel. Availability might also differ sometimes. Hostelworld charges an admin fee though.

If you’ve gone so far and are still reading, congrats! You’re ready for Jonkoping! If you have any questions, please email or add me at tiancai_sakuragi@hotmail.com! (Also, if you would like to befriend a very hospitable Swedish lady who lives near Grashagen, please let me know, so we can introduce you to her!)

personal reflections of the YOG.

2010-08-18T14:00:00.018+08:00

The YOG furore wasn't about the YOG.

No, really. After all that's been sung and done, I really hope that our government will declare the event a resounding success. If not, finger-pointing will ensue, and the organising committee doesn't even need to get its hands dirty determining that one cause of failure. Already the online community has done it for them.

It's inconceivable how the blame can travel in one huge round, and lie squarely on the citizens again. Something wrong with YOG? Don't blame the government. No, please accuse ourselves, for being the apathetic fools and whiners we are. Please, excuse us for the numerous complaints, the poor turnouts (because some just can't be bothered. Some of us don't like sports - no, actually we're just retaliating against the YOG and/or the government). We, Singaporeans, actually let the country (not the government) down when it mattered the most. We humiliated ourselves, when we couldn't rise to the occasion (which called for friendly faces aplenty, rows of applauding citizens, without a hint of pessimism nor criticism), and afterwards, take a handsome amount of glee in it.

It's shocking that this twisted logic can arise and even be left to breed. I have to wonder what has been instilled in us, that we immediately turn on each other because of that exact difference in opinion.

Here's the surprising news: Nobody dislikes the YOG. In fact, everyone wishes that Singapore could put on a great show. We don't, for example, call supporters delusional brainwashed Singaporeans, despite their apparent willingness to strip away our citizenship and deport us to some sad, sad republic where we finally appreciate Singapore. The only beef we have is with YOG's implementation and with it, the accountability that must be in place.

And yet, we're not allowed to question the implementation, since mass questioning and petitions will only make the government and the YOG lose face. Often, detractors are said to mix politics and sports, the government and country. I always thought patriotism was a willingness to critique the system so as to improve it, a determination not to remain apathetic, and instead stay and make things right. I never thought it was to love without fault nor dissent. I thought wrong.

alternative media performs a harakiri?

2010-08-18T01:08:00.014+08:00

The naysayers have done it again.

The best use of that YOG budget is not in organising the event itself, but somehow perpetuating the chain of events that leads to a great PR defense. We now have concerned global citizens bashing the alternative media and its subversive, dangerous, humiliating, biased messages.

The Olympics was never about the much-heralded Olympic Values (who's willing to fork out millions or billions for a giant Sports Day?). It's the monetary benefits, and I have no qualms about that aim since it kills two birds with one stone. The greatness of the Olympics, however, is that organisers can easily conjure the Olympic defense against political meddling. Add to that the youth x-factor of YOG. No one's going to debate such a deadly mix. That would be suicidal. Who wants to deprive our cute kids, leaders of the future, their chance to feel good about themselves, come together, and sing 'we are the world'?

Has alternative media become so delusional, so caught up in its own web, that it fails to position its arguments correctly?

Well, both yes and no.

The main strawmen that most detractors bring up are Temasek Review and TheOnlineCitizen. I wouldn't quite classify TOC as being at the same level as TR, since TR is undoubtedly crass and extreme in its words. It runs the danger of preaching to the choir. But that is just a problem regarding its use of language, and the absence of the so-called constructive criticism (which I suspect is one legacy of Feedback Units and friends - a barrier to entry for critics).

Yet, this holier-than-thou attitude stinks of elite-speak. As if to say that if you don't pass your GCE 'O' Levels (with perfect grammar and spelling), aren't capable of positioning 'whines and gripes' as healthy criticism, then somehow your points carry less weight. So a sizeable segment of the population is silenced quickly, because these are the ones who perceive themselves (and probably are) the ones who get shortchanged the most by a system of meritocracy.

And to add insult upon injury, we then condescend on their less-than-intelligent arguments, resigning them to the rabblepile.

Haven't the media literates like us the adequate sense to sieve apart fact from fiction, agenda from point? If the alternative media did not exist to cover the YOG, readers are left to the whim and fancies of the mainstream papers and channels. And that means no 'dogfood' scandal, no poorly attended fringe events, no floods, no distasteful letters that demand compulsory attendance (some white-office bastardisation of conscription).

In a parallel universe not far from here (actually, just beyond our shores), the gripes and complaints would be glorified as whistle-blowers who thoughtfully released pertinent issues that would have demanded more media coverage.

There is a reason why alternative media is named so. And should they be co-opted into doing things the same fashion as the mainstream, then they have really sold out, and we're truly kaput.

the Singapore Gripe.

2010-08-12T16:10:00.018+08:00

[Update - Seems like my complaint making its rounds on ST Forums Online worked well. On the day of publication, my MP and Town Council both replied me. The shame game works wonders at improving efficiency, despite my reservations with it.]

As a Singaporean, I'm terribly fond of complaining. While other countries term their criticism as constructive, as a civic duty, or even a way to engage the government, hold them in check, remind them where the power base truly is, our Singapore leaders, as forward thinking as they are, have subtly carried out the branding strategy of the decade. Nay, perhaps the past century. By patenting our voices as complaints, and adding something 'uniquely Singapore' to our culture. As if that wasn't enough, to cast us aside as complaining children who must be chided by their elders, they have successfully cultivated that very 'you-against-progressive-singapore' mentality. Instead of drawing 'I agrees' on basic principle or rights, whiners often incur the wrath of compliant citizens who go for the 'armchair critic' assault.

'So why aren't you doing anything about it? Stop complaining, do something! Or else your issue is invalid/irrelevant/unreasonable. Isn't Singapore doing enough for you yet? Stop demanding more. If not, go join politics/unions/social organisations.'

The agreeable Singaporean that I am, I've exhausted my options, short of joining radical organisations, tapping upon REACH, or writing to the Forums (funny how you need a third party to engage the powers-that-be, actually). [As of today, I've tried that too. Holding the authorities to ransom - hardly a tasteful thing to do for me]

But I have sent emails to my MP, my Town Council, and even answered their new media call (One @ Boon Lay - now that's dandy). And I'm glad to see that instead of attending to a pressing question, they'll rather spend time writing on FB walls and broadcasting their events. Nothing went answered, so I'm down to this, yet again. Whining. Like a vuvuzela.

I can't promise readers anything, except that maybe you can level the armchair charge at me, if that floats your boat. Previously, this form of soft policing has made me step down many times, preferring to vent it through obscure quotes. But when you tire of being pushed around or answered with silence, enough is enough.

A few months ago, one of my neighbouring blocks did a Tower of Pisa. A bit of the walls cracked, and apparently it was quickly boarded up, and then fixed. The larger problem of structural integrity seemed unsolved, so the best way of fixing things - wall up the area with danger panels. Too bad the cracks still show. And that's the second floor. I'm no engineer, but if the base goes, the top will too right?

Last I checked, green masking tape can't hold a block together. Looks like more cracks appearing?
Being similar blocks, I had to voice my concerns. I posted on One@Boon Lay's facebook page, emailed my dear MP, and was met with total silence. Then I emailed my Town Council. Ditto. Nothing on completion date of repair, what the heck they were doing. Oh dear, so anyone can just waltz into the estate now knocking over walls?

Just this month, we got our facelift too, along with the previous block. Still no word on what they're doing, when they'll finish. No assurances on the solidity of a 34-year-old flat.

C'mon, don't be shy, smile a little.

In case you're wondering, these are similar blocks, with similar faults. Within each block, there are 110 clueless households.

I figure I'm not owed an en-bloc. But an explanation for all the residents is way overdue. Should I move out of my house now? If anything rumbles, do I hide under the table, or run for the stairs? It's safe? Then just tell me, dammit.

the featherquill.

2010-05-23T03:39:00.004+08:00

how life changes in six months, i don't know.

you probably go back, smarter, older, wiser, more jaded, and yet more cheerful. you want to go back bringing tales of exploits, of wonders, like the sailors of yesteryear.

with the mere difference being no bards to sing your song.

it's this time where you try to find something you desperately want to remember. some souvenir to chip off the wall or some photo to take to immortalise a place/person. or sum up the entire experience somehow, and how it was worth it, life-changing or extraordinary. being cursed with poor memory dictates that i not waste time doing the former.

but i'm content with the developments, with the connections. perhaps a little bit more time would be nice, now that there is so much more to savour and kindle. to sit down, chat, and talk about so many difference perspectives, life problems, life histories, and amidst all the silent judgement and contention, being able to find some common grounds of agreement.

but perspectives change, and i suppose one of that is how you define relationships, and time. some things you leave it as that, with a tinge of regret and sadness, but still happy that it was there, at that moment. at least you discovered it, somewhat. at least you know what's out there, and part of it has been imprinted upon you, and something's for the better.

then again, having a memory so bad, you might just go back, and be your old self again.

sweden shenanigans, pt deux.

2010-02-01T17:56:00.002+08:00

a bit overdue, so lucky there are days where the weather's too cold to do anything worthwhile outside, and buses arrive too infrequently.

ok, i foresee the posts getting way too overdue, but that's the lazy me exacerbated by the lazy sweden weather. extremely 'lat'.

they have rebate coupons on the shelf, ala the US. Not like Singapore. Probably cause less people read the papers. Oh, and their offers come out every Sunday, not Thursday.

welcome to IKEA. the budget fitted out section that is. ice ground included free of charge, dammit.

doctors work weekdays in sweden, and they're kind of appointment based. foreigner rates hang around the region of 400SGD for a simple consultation. ouch. no wonder the apoteket receives much more visitors. pharmacists are more qualified here, and their advice is treated seriously by patients. unfortunately, they're more of the 'home cure' and 'no antibiotics' kind. strange given their reliance on public health systems.

jonkoping is awfully small if you're looking for real shopping. besides the city centre, and the A6 shopping mall, there's seriously not much else to shop for. but they're a shoe culture, with as much shoes as clothes. not totally unexpected given their snowy weather.

you can't resist a little graffiti now and then. so much for enlightened europe.

swedes are kind of crazy over carbonated drinks. even normal coke taste more gassy here than back in Singapore. and their carbonated drinking water, plus a funky machine that can make sparkling juice. coke can sort of replace the big mac index, but it still IS possible to get a 1.5litre at only 2SGD. plus, you get the swedish pant system, which gives you some 80 cents back for recycling. kind of like the old Singapore jackpot machine.

sweden shenanigans, pt 1.

2010-01-26T05:20:00.014+08:00

been awhile since i blogged, although i've been playing with the idea of a travelogue (that will probably only materialise in my dreams)

so let's just put on some stuff that's interesting (and perhaps informative) for future exchang-ers as well.

not ordinary white bread you see back home. comes with a mean expiry date (often 1 week), and available in (most commonly) 600g packs. Means you wolf down 4 to 6 pieces a day if you don't want it to go bad.

the cheapest brand is eldorado, which is a budget brand we're making fast friends with.

mr milk also comes with a great price to pay. even though it's very much cheaper than the watery milk we have in SG. (1+SGD/litre) dairy products expire DAMN fast, even though there are opportunities to pick up half-prices for almost-expiring or expired ones (which i'm not gonna try).

the siemens stove we have in the accommodation. runs on electricity, which is good (and bad). i suppose you can't have a closed room filled with gas anyway. but the oven is always good (since i've never used one) for food experiments, like grilled chicken, grilled hotdogs, grilled meatballs...

corn. you don't have a lot of vegetables here in ulu Jonkoping. only broccoli (green and white, for variety), some peas, carrots, and frozen stuff. corn is only available frozen and their texture is.... smudgy. Very very soft yucky corn. Or maybe i just cook too long. not cheap too, even for frozen ones.

weird minty vegetable. unknown thingy, but apparently it's part of a soup mix. tastes like carrot, but don't think it's white carrot leh. in any case, some potatoes also taste minty.

Rice! Not cheap here, at 4-5SGD/kg. It's really 粒粒皆辛苦. Although you do find rice cookers as cheap as 60 SGD, super cheapo me prefer to steam rice and chicken instead. The only hard part is defrosting, which takes A LOT of time. And also the metal stand, which I'm still unable to find, so i get lots of ceramic marks on my pot.

Sauces! No Chinese (and sometimes Western) dishes are complete without a hell lot of condiments. BBQ (for marinating grilled stuff), oyster sauce , pepper, soya sauce, salt, sugar (which can all be bought here), and MSG (which i haven't seen - maybe not looking out for it)

Just bought starch powder today, which means no more watery 'zup' from vegetables! Yay! Tempted to buy 麻油, but seems to be more limited, for rice, chicken, and instant noodles.

Speaking of which, one of the best instant noodle brands Nissin can be bought here, but for 1.4SGD per packet. Compare that to the 6 pack in SG, for 2+SGD. Daylight robbery, but oh well. Time to gam with the Cantonese owner....

crazy weather for nighttime jonkoping today. the floor is icy and i keep feeling cold drafts at my feet. apparently the room isn't airtight enough and lets cold air from outside in. free aircon.

shall never complain that marina square is cold again.

it's been tough.

2010-01-06T00:17:00.002+08:00

never been one to wish out loud, but i hope life goes easier on me, starting from tomorrow. else, i'll have to content myself thinking that everything has a reason (which is obvious crap - some things surely can be spared 'the experience').

not yet gone.

2009-12-31T15:12:00.005+08:00

It's less than 1 week till I fly off. But the feeling of both anticipation and apprehension makes for a disconcerting feeling to swallow. The unknown is always a terrible factor to handle, given how much I like to source for as much information as possible, and the uber ulu Jonkoping doesn't offer too much of that.

But then again, it's been a fun affair learning how to put my OCD tendencies to good use. Learning how to pack the right way, source out the good deals, learn cooking and choosing food, as well as the ins and outs of visa bureaucracy.

Anyway, on to lighter stuff. Here's tips that I've amassed from exchange preparation!

1. Money exchanging
Seems like the Arcade at Raffles Place and Mustafa is the way to go. Remember to check online Google rates before you go, and check the rates for multiple changers. Flaws in the free market at the arcade still exist for some reason (possibly a cartel?). Also, a long queue does not always mean great rates.

USD and Euros rates are more or less equivalent to Google rates. Rare currencies such as Swedish Krona has a significant discrepancy, but bo bian. Even rarer ones (such as Czech Krona) is unavailable, even at the airport. Most people will change for USD instead (easily convertible, even in Europe)

When withdrawing money overseas, a good card to use is the UOB Campus Debit Visa. Allows 3 free withdrawals monthly (otherwise it's 5 SGD a pop). Most withdrawals conversion are done by converting the home currency to USD, then from USD to SGD. Thus, you suffer twice.

2. Winterwear
Uniqlo turtle necks are good at ten bucks a pop. Adidas winterwear from Korea can be sought out at Song&Song (with outlets in AMK, TPY, Jurong East, Clementi) at 50 apiece. Timberland winter boots are available at up to 70% off at the Timberland Outlet store.

3. Packing
Vacuum packs work wonders for saving space. That and heat packs of 5 are available at Daiso for 2 apiece.

4. Communication
Phoenix Comms is great for cheap calls from Singapore to abroad numbers.
Voipstunt - Free internet calls from foreign countries to Singapore at a rate of 10 EUR for 120 days!

Hopefully, this will prove to be good information for future Googlers going for exchange. Makes life SOOOO much easier if you have all this information.

gobbledydook.

2009-12-29T03:42:00.003+08:00

tik-tock, the clock in the background
(why'd most poems begin with sounds, sighs or frowns)
no matter, it'll get better
or it'll clink-clunk straight to the gutter.

not ruby red, but jaded green
if only things were as it seemed
how many ticks, how many sounds
sixty-seven? nah, i've lost count.

puncture me, dear hyphen-
at least you're something i can discern
from the mish-mash of commas, full-stops,
jumble of half-told tales and flops.

gimme inspiration, something like plaith
nay, not the thrice-damned galbraith
always wanted to write about a rook
all the other pieces, i suppose, you took.

so here it ends
stapled incoherence bends
curse sticky-notes, save the stitch
knowledge is a cold-weathered bitch.

aircon and its perils.

2009-12-29T00:21:00.002+08:00

sbs employee #1: eh brudder, how should we go about doing the Jurong Point AIRCON interchange ah?
sbs employee #2: dunno leh, aiya, actually very simple one. just put aircon and sliding doors (that might or might not work) can liao. Singaporeans (and other nationalities) very impressed by those high-tech looking things one.
#1: ya hor, and then i just put somemore land space filled with nothing to make it Singapore's biggest AIRCON interchange! wah lau, sure very popular one.
#2: then we put single entry and exit lanes for the buses, and we rotate some bus services so they do a pointless roundabout the entire Jurong Point and the old interchange! wah lau eh, Singaporeans sure love us for this! Extra 10 minutes in an AIRCON bus for FREE leh! and then and then, so many buses and so little lanes, sure jam, then the interchange sure look damn popular with people!
#1: then the bus services that ply the industrial estates and dormitories how ah? since they're 'different' and create long queues, why not transfer them to the old interchange....
#2: shhhhh! so xenophobic! sure kenna whack one! we transfer the ntu buses la! students only mah. they also always so long queue, make so much noise. we achieve the same effect but with less bad press! AHHHH!
#1: then hor, i noticed that the Boon Lay residents have so many bus services available to them! how can? you heard of tyrannry of the majority a not! wah liew so many choices wait they cannot make any! then they miss bus! then they die!
#2: ya! so let's remove 2 of the 4 existing services ok! let them PASS THROUGH THE ROUTE BUT NOT STOP THERE. then the residents will not take SBS for granted liao. they think Singapore so connected without us meh! Also, then next time gahmen can restore the old services as the elections carrot!
#1: ya ya! budden, we cannot be so unfair, wait people write to forums. so let's just remove the services going to the AIRCON interchange from that bus stop, budden for the opposite bus stop, we DON'T TOUCH! Creative solution right? Wah lau, upper management will surely love us for this!

stop screwing around with 'innovations' and 'service enhancements' and gimme back what worked in the past, SBS.

chinese opera.

2009-12-23T23:08:00.009+08:00

from whence did the suona
begin their song
clashing cymbals heralding
the curtain draw?

whereupon did we adopt
roles of sheng and dan
speak in sing-song vernacular
and walk the pretentious gait?

did we roll up our water sleeves
to draw the false rouge red?
or was it to prune
the wretched pheasant feather hat?

if only we could tell
sharp eyebrow from
withered frown.

(but we didn't)
and so we circle the motions,
a linear timeline.
tri-sided relationships
paraded on rectangle stage

how we turn our backs
only to stare at
the once-familiar, once-detested, once-contemptuous,
the once-upon-a-time.

'do i know you?'
cue the endless tragedy of the deja vu.

metahegemony.

2009-10-09T01:10:00.003+08:00

you know the world has gone to nuts when the elitists find nothing better to do than to critique their own.

not the guy in the bowler hat.

2009-09-08T16:50:00.003+08:00

As much as it's useful to claim some sort of portfolio (i have none, still), it's more important to quell an interesting rumour (and the resulting implications on my political leanings) and also to have peace of mind at night.

So, here goes: i'm not the kj on toc.

There are some similarities in prose and style (he does have a fiery breath which i lost somewhere transversing youth), but I'm too old and cynical to write pure dissident posts and take up the mantle of change (or liberty. or freedom. or whatever else high-minded tenet). But i can't bring myself to critique his work, because that would incur the armchair sin.

Ok, no need to fear the knocks on my door now. :)

strangely fitting.

2009-08-29T00:52:00.001+08:00

i write obituaries. if you need an eulogy, go find someone else.

just noodling.

2009-08-18T21:34:00.003+08:00

something that flew out of just noodles. very raw, but we prefer to proclaim the freshness of the words themselves.

stilettos, twice removed
so does your height betray you
but your appearance rings true
to the bells of your soul
how-do-you-do.

the weathers, fine.
i hope you see it, true and through
don't follow, follow me.
as i skip to the loo.
all i am, you gobble, gobbledygook.

you live life in a reflector
strapped to earth, naked wings, nestled poo.
where the lights light too, too bright for you
step back before you break apart,
bones & sinew.

on the woodchipper's block
chop chop chop chops of you
your barbed-wire heart, we melt in devil's brew
and then piece it whole anew
demon girl, you are your own peril.

train to Auschwitz
for your life, inferior and skewed.
enjoy that breath of fresh air,
lest I beat you like a red-headed Jew
or march you down to the Maginot Line,
like that kiddy game you play,
(Pew-pew-pew.)

all the world's a stage, baby
but hey, you're not Shakespeare's fool
nay, no fool like you waxes lyrics.
you're a Tussuad's child waxen, a Greek statue
with two full centuries to pursue

goodbye-see-you
the choir invisible has sung
so the curtain must too.
you have no understudy, lady
Tragic-comedy, there's no number two.

what it means.

2009-07-02T12:24:00.006+08:00

things have come and gone. yet cynicism decides to make itself a permanent resident, amidst all the fanfare.

for what it's worth

2009-06-30T11:22:00.003+08:00

It's funny how just a random, very overdue outing can set one thinking so much.

No photo-whoring, no silence (even when there is, shortly broken by a laugh and more banter). Just an publicly unacknowledged fact that we've grown up. But for that four hours or so, how young we have once been. When passion dominated more of our nerves and veins, than the stilted slumber that we call maturity. When raging fires have died down to reveal only glowing embers and a mere acceptance of our life, along with the vivid expectations of what's to come.

We have, devolved, I suppose.

But it sure is fun hanging out with old friends, even acquaintances. I guess it's partly due to how we at least have more similarities than acquaintances now. And how we're learned to live and forget, due to the many other sins we've experienced and committed.

But mostly because it harks back to the old, golden age of our civilisation. Back when we were young, dreams weren't fleeting, and we were raring to go forth.

To what? The future? If only things didn't work by relative comparisons.

Daddy

2009-05-31T12:47:00.011+08:00

you came, and then you left.
hollow man, were you ever there?

in-between, television's fuzzing
you were the fleeting.
the one momma warned about
the telly's blurry image,
blacked-white, washed-out.

7/24, your clock on the brink
dreaming nothing but the kitchen sink
the one you couldn't fix
(actually, beyond that, there's more
like the kid who wanted Trix)

(forth-and-back, my pen begins its spin
the ink bleeds out, my disjointed limb
reality's fabric tears at the seams
i really can't make of you
unless with bad synonyms)

dormant volcano, spewing no ash.
your eruptions died a trillion years ago, there's only rehash
'tis a reminder of all things past
an empty wallet
dooming us to a lower caste

glowing embers, a familiar slope
you light up (yours, not mine) hope
smoke rings float gently to the top
guardian angel
i'd pray, but you're not.

sparkling white, your porcelain throne
also known as the beaten dog's bone
the sole solace to fornicate dreams-
plebeian fantasies,
i suppose, but it's my ice-cream

i've been flagging, can't you see?
taxi, taxi, taxi
drop me off, i'll pay the fare
or leave us both
breathing noxious fumes of despair.

but i grew roots, i grew shoots
i grew and grew, till i'm taller than you
taller than frail health, receding youth
all prestige has abandoned his name
except the silver age of sixty-two

the old sea barrel, it begins to burst
the fog above begins its choking curse
you've squirmed life of such a deal
a funny tattooist fate is, to give me
imprints of you

the lego i never had
the scooter i never sat
hey daddy,
c'mon,
play with me.

you missed~

2009-05-09T11:15:00.001+08:00

the bulls-eye, the point, the sharpie edge, the birds, the bees, the trees, mas selamat, and even the overhead bridge.

the sheep calling the flock black.

2009-04-30T15:51:00.002+08:00

this never gets old.

selectively pruning the holy book for the numerous verses that counter 'the' numerous verses, and then drawing a suddenly extremely clear boundary. All this done, while casting out the exiles and blasphemers (which harks back to that era the book detailed), and declaring oneself the sacred truth.

so who's the authority here?
and whatever happened to tolerance of all views that was championed, even the ones perceived as naive, bigoted ones?

so now that the big ugly has reared its head, it's time for the baby to be thrown out along with the bathwater, and brand 'ignorance' as unchristian?

I'm not quite sure how such posturing and demonstration of faith dexterity affects the final sum. You mean one can still be against homosexuality, but not ok when people impose their anti-gay beliefs upon others, because others should be able to do as they please? that sounds a lot like bending over backwards.

but the bright side, of course, is that compassion and rational thought did somewhat prevail in this polarised issue, albeit with some flag-changing and alliance-shifting.

awaken, awareness.

2009-04-25T01:49:00.002+08:00

well well, i'm not really quite sure who i should be cheering on. if the new guardians of moral values and democracy triumph, it's a great loss for equality and anti-discrimination. if the liberal and modernised paper wins, then i decry the worsening journalistic ideals of objectivity (which of course is unattainable, but still..)

what's worse? it sure is amusing when you see two conservative parties in each camp, accusing each other of bigotry and intolerance.

what's next, i wonder? perhaps, to draw the link between jihadist sleeper, and homosexuals? very soon we can use the ISA on these destablising forces in society, since they destroy family values, promote polygamy, voluntarily became homosexuals, were all victims of family abuse, thus rendering homosexuality a mental disease of sorts. i'm sure the slippery slope and the doomsday scenario is enough to scare people off support of these queers. how scary it is that liberals will usurp the civil society and promote such disturbing actions! imagine our children choosing their better half, of the same sex! goodness forbid!

ridiculous. it's a wonder how such hate speech can still be condoned today. just a few decades ago, blacks and asians were considered a lesser race. please, please, do grow up and see progress as we know it.

Hardworking Also Guilty.

2009-02-10T00:20:00.001+08:00

Quickpost this image to Myspace, Digg, Facebook, and others!

http://img523.imageshack.us/img523/6606/hardworkingalsoguiltydm6.jpg" border="0">

going high res.

2009-01-02T22:57:00.004+08:00

for the new year -

charlie will finally spring clean his 640x480 real estate (not in virtual life)
amy will glean over her 1024 dresses, and maybe donate 768 pieces to charity (which she never wore, but shopped online anyway)
lucy hopes to make her life a bit brighter, maybe like her new glossy lcd screen
andy hopes to get a bit of the colour in his best friend's life, which is in 32 bit (HIGHEST) colour
johnny wants to monitor his life a bit better. you know, like taking charge. like staying off facebook, or something. you know right? if not, nevermind. his online pals probably would.

(X)
me out.
they never tick.
you'll see, you'll see.
when i come again.

wanderlust.

2009-01-02T22:38:00.004+08:00

perhaps that is fate, or
an inaction in weaving our own strands.

the pentameter draws to a still
the seven steps slows to a crawl, and then

nothing.

our notes doomed to obscurity.
poets of virtual unknown,
bodies of brimming ideas,
wheeled into the mortuary of eternal slumber

sealed shut.

we rhyme ourselves out of existence.

are we there yet?
no. where were we going again?
but these endless limericks,
these catchy riffs that only we share
they par the course.

we can only hope,
and wonder.

STARS Secret Manual.

2008-12-05T11:42:00.002+08:00

Learnings from both semesters has given me terrible course for concern. I suppose this must be posted for the welfare of succeeding generations to come.

For first semester:
Fastest Fingers first. Ignore those waitlisted crap, nothing of your concern. Just wait, choose your UE and GE nicely, keeping clicking 'Add course into STARS' in STARS Planner one minute before Registration Time. Once the window opens, quickly confirm and you're in.

For second semester:
1st Registration Period -
Gun for your PE only. That's the only fastest fingers first. Keep clicking as above, and confirm quickly. Ignore the UE priority crap, focus on clicking confirm!
Choose GE that has a reasonable vacancy-waitlist ratio. (ie. if the course has 0 vacancies and 100-over waitlist, you're not likely to get it)

2nd Registration Period -
Choosing UE this time round. Repeat as per GE-choosing.

Some tips:
1. Add/drop camping does wonders sometimes.
2. Sit on top of modules. You can drop later. Not ethical or nice but a lot of people do it to save their own skin and cover their asses.
3. Registering at school is quicker.
4. Waitlisted modules can clash with each other, but not with GEs and PEs that are set in stone.
5. The higher the waitlist, the easier the module is. (Generally)

Shall update this when I learn more!

in defense of xenophobia.

2008-11-26T22:42:00.002+08:00

Recently there was a concerned citizen (read: xenophobe) who called to attention the influx of foreign workers in Boon Lay estate (amongst other issues, such as the lack of hygiene, estate repairs, and a warning that the gods from high above should not neglect the estate just because it is mostly populated by low-income households). This was done during a ministerial visit to Boon Lay, and address to our MCYS Minister.

It was published by LHZB, and dismissed as a major grouse by a resident who apparently had too much time on his hands. When the minister kindly invited him to volunteer his time as a grassroots official, this resident quickly excused himself because of family obligations.

Now, now, we do know that the papers love to stoop to new lows, and sometimes behave like a schizophrenic who doesn't take its medicine. Despite always publishing scandalous and sensational foreign-worker murders, peidu-mamas' illicit activities (proclaiming, of course, the right for the reader to know), it doesn't forget to round things off by kindly reminding us that xenophobia is wrong and a privilege only enjoyed by newswriters.

A funny thing to note, is the new defense tactic I've been observing: the ability to divert attention and jump onto a moral high horse - so i'm not doing my job. how about you help me instead? help me to help you? AHA! you don't wanna! so you're no better anyway!

How is that supposed to help things? Does painting a resident as a selfish individual who expects the government that he voted into office to consider his interests solve the issue at heart?

As long as we treat xenophobia as a social ill, derogatory racial terms as dirty swear words, the so-called harmonious, tolerant society of ours is still artificial and tense.

How about we finally throw things out into the open, and finally address the issue of integrating foreign workers?

the kite.

2008-11-07T00:11:00.002+08:00

at the risk of another snide 'hand in hand' remark. (well, greatness has its off-days too)

no catches,
only one string attached.
tension evoking a series of false starts,
push-pull, push-pull.

when he catches the updraft,
she reels him in.
caught in the wind's embrace.

liberated,
the kite soars high
remaining tethered still,
to the heavens and the commons.

to cast a faint shadow,
against the bright glare of the sun,
he is content,
charting his course.

very foreign policy.

2008-10-22T10:48:00.003+08:00

it's always a wonder how people can (pretend to) listen, hear your (un)rationale, proceed to (mis)understand, and/or give complete (dis)regard to it.

frankly, insulting.

my subjugation.

2008-10-18T15:25:00.002+08:00

been awhile since i'm back with incoherence.
and doing what i liked to.
let's try awhile
shall we?

so we step up now,
upon the chapel steps.
heart to heart, hand in hand,
however the world engulfs around us.

us,
the survivors of tragedy
them,
our tragedy of survival

making sense of the world again,
as we take our steps,
once more.
friend, buddy, comrade, darling.

the words of that unspoken vow ring true,
the wine glasses cling their unison.

in Sickness and in Health.

putting the happy - back into the birthday.

2008-10-08T23:29:00.004+08:00

从小，生日就不算设么。
21岁生日，竟然让我尝到了各种滋味。

苦苦的。
因为知道知己不曾渴望。
甜甜的。
犹如大家的爱，都聚集在一块。
咸咸的。
有如心中的泪水，已滴了下来。

长大了。
才吃蛋糕。

（除了风凉话，正经的感谢词我不会说。就让照片代我吧。）

（不要误会！不是在看那个那个啦！）

谢谢大家！

pushing the envelope of decency.

2008-09-08T21:52:00.004+08:00

A Modest Proposal.

Dear Editor of the Straits Times,

I write in to offer my opinion on the recent Serangoon Gardens foreign workers issue. The ministers have spoken and the national newspaper has set the national agenda for us citizens to follow, and I wholeheartedly agree with them.

The action plan is clear. We have to send our middle-class citizens for re-national education, and also embrace foreign workers with open arms and hearts. How such middle class Singaporeans who live in landed property can have such disgustingly overboard nationalism (that borders upon the Aryan race fanaticism) is beyond the comprehension of all Straits Times readers, as your team of reporters has so sharply emphasised. They must be too stuck up in their middle-class snobbery for far too long!

But of course, we mustn't forget our indispensable foreign workers. Since we need them to lay every brick and concrete, we must obviously house them decently and integrate them into all sectors of our gracious society. I propose that the next dormitories be built near our upper-crust ministers' humble residences, since they have so nicely pleaded for our understanding on this issue. I'm sure they won't mind leaving next to the labourer who built their ministries or renovated their offices.

But of course, if such measures are unrealistic and might lead to freak effects (such as transport congestion, security issues or disturbances) that our generous forgiving minds cannot comprehend, I offer the tried-and-tested solution. We can continue the tradition of housing them in low-class Singaporeans' estates. (Since middle-class pertains to landed property living Singaporeans, the low-class would probably be HDB dwellers who comprise of 80+% of the population. Plenty of space.) There has not been any major talk of petitions or headlines regarding lower-class citizens complaining about foreign worker disturbances, which we can take immediately as signs of consent and even outright agreement.

Never mind our general education level where the normal ah-pek and ah-ma would probably not know what a petition looks like, or even that MPs might have been too busy handing out vouchers to needy residents that they fail to notice that entire blocks are turned into HDB dormitories. We need the space to house workers decently. Let's just find plots of land to do so, and turn a blind eye to everything else, real or imagined. The classic 'sucks to be you' scenario. Now that's fair and equality to everyone, right? We all have an equal chance of having dormitories next to us.

I wish to commend the paper as well for being the conscience of the nation, always ready to strike and riptose at whatever threatens the greater good, never mind the vocal minority who might suffer. I must single out the Saturday commentary and Sunday Times headlines for special praise. By so selectively picking and choosing extremely biased case studies of foreign workers, the paper has so effectively dispelled our misconceived notion. I would definately engage foreign workers in my block in casual english conversation next time.

And we see that the interviewees profess to a lack of drinking. My my we must have been so paranoid that we dreamed up the flock of foreign workers drinking alcohol in the spaces around Jurong Point!

So it must be that we must tolerate some of their habits, such as talking loudly since our anti-social society needs greater interaction. So it also must be that we should not mind the few black sheep who stare at our womenfolk rarely; they are lonely migrants, after all. We hear all these justifications for the litany of ill-perceived misconceptions and they would really go a long way towards building a gracious society where we must accommodate them, not the other way round.

Overall, I must commend on the paper for a job well done, for so cleverly skirting around the issue and painting it so black-and-white that xenophobia seems to be an exclusive trait of middle-class (certainly a very laughable term for Serangoon Gardens residents) Singaporeans. In the events where 'national interests' and 'social fabric' is threatened, it is very nice to see that the mainstream media has effectively used a divide-and-conquer rule to shame concerns into submission and diminished government authority and responsibility over the issue.

So our authorities herald tolerance and decry bigotry. But shouldn't initiation courses be compulsory for foreign workers for better integration and foster that sense of understanding we need so much? It appears that the ordinary Singapore folks aren't the only ones who treat such workers as 'throwaways'.

the age of relativity.

2008-08-13T00:07:00.002+08:00

away with those einsteinian formulas, mere scientist
they solve no equations here
where there is whiter than white, blacker than black.
this is the age of relativity.

erase those scrawling lines of hypothesis, simple painter
no theory is ever proven here
where we judge our artistry by drawing comparisons.
this is the age of relativity.

debunk those myths of so-called laws, budding assistant
quantum mechanics serve no use here
where pupils are tempered by coloured glass.
this is the age of relativity.

you know what they say, those illuminating lights
to know happiness only after experiencing sadness,
what utter rubbish.
but this is the age of relativity.

(probably my subconscious speaking, but i think one does appreciate happiness better after a direct contrast.)

david goes to goliath.

2008-08-01T17:21:00.006+08:00

shall take a break from my current style.

today was a relatively uneventful day, but one still feels a certain obligation to go to school which is rather close (ok, understatement there) to collect freebies. hey, let's not waste the milk, they'll go bad ok?

certainly one can't help that lingering feeling of unimpression when freshmen sit in some nice velvety auditorium and have to don some ages-old gown and then do some psuedo sichuan-bejing olympics lightup. seems like ntu is some schizophrenic than i initially thought. well if it was academia exellence and good ol' hogwarts style, please do implement that all the way. but if you're going for freshness, let's not try a half-lame candlelight virgil shall we?

you can't help but pity the organisation in retrospect however. seems to me that it is some lumbering monster trying to change tacks and switch tracks. organisational failure? perhaps. or just that it has outgrown the capacity for change, being too steeped in red tape bereaucracy and stone-age style thinking. but it's all speculation and impression until i experience it first hand.

of course the focal point would be the speakers and their awe-inspirating speech that's somehow supposed to motivate us and lead us down 'the road less travelled' (major irony alert!). did they actually mean every word they said? all that say about world-class varsity, state-of-the-art facilities, top-notch research and other ya-ya. obviously the alternative of saying stuff like 'now you're stuck with us, suckers' ain't gonna go down so well but i can't help detecting a bit of hesistation between every compliment and the general feeling that they're not buying their own stories.

cs orientation is deeply steeped in academic affairs but fortunately broken up with a bit of gentle humour and light banter (and the necessary engine pokes) and of course another action replay. well, running joke literally. the magnitude of that mtv along the beach realised too late.

i never quite realised how much ntu has heavily invested in digital learning and academia. it's a pleasant surprise to see the infrastructure well in place but perhaps the one thing left to surmount is still the heavy inertia to adopt soft copies. (point to note: hire apple consultants, make user friendly interfaces. oh yeah, cover flowing courses or doing fancy pop ups work)

highlight of the orientation was the career talk. while it's obviously fun to mythbust, the notion of bringing hurting reality down upon young aspiring media talents probably ranks in the history of worst ideas since STARS. but then again i bring home a memorable quote, worthy of the 'did they say that' column.

'so you want to be a top journalist...like chua lee hoong....'

i'm sorry, but that probably means you're in the wrong faculty. should have taken political science overseas, then go ISD first.

but enough of serious topics! down to the real business!

ntu welcome ceremony freebie bag worth: 7/10, 8/10 if you count reception
jacket is functional but nothing to write home about. (does remind me of f1 tho) organiser's a good inclusion. handphone pouches or files would have been a great addition to the pack. reception was a welcome surprise with soft drinks! (how often do you get that instead of water-down syrup) and of course popcorn and muahchee! (although the main courses tend to be on the heaty and dry side)

cs freebie bag worth: 5.5/10, 7/10 if reception

disappointing stuff. it's not really nice to use a cleaning device that has some dead guy's name on it (and ex-president too to boot). i dunno, every time i wipe my mobile shudders uncontrollably. or maybe it's just an sms.

writer's bloc.

2008-07-27T23:23:00.003+08:00

digits at a standstill, in mock apprehension
as i await, forever
that crucial piece
to fill in the berlin wall

the iron curtain, obstructs my clarivoyance
WMDs launch, split second
those crippling towers
to construct multi-tented cathedrals

the KGB, they whisper white noise
fuzzy signal, momentarily
the storming spetnaz
to arrest my train of thought

so then i force myself to write thus
for without i can't hope to heap score upon score
call it the missing link, the last piece of the puzzle, the ace in the hole, the deus ex machina.
call it what you will.

you're that missing brick, dammit!

back to being, being.

2008-07-17T12:31:00.002+08:00

so you transverse entire lengths,
take a hike of certain laps
see the stars, the moons,
and all the pretty dust around town.

so they shine, and i don't.
but here i am, and here is now.
kj is back again.

ratatouille.

2008-07-12T01:08:00.005+08:00

it's funny, dramatic, absurd even, to see that a motley crew of inept chefs could whip up the winning dish despite lacking all the key ingredients.

i think this script won.

migration.

2008-06-30T00:50:00.005+08:00

recent heart-stopping server breakdowns over at my old blog host have prompted me to migrate over to the commonly used blogspot in the hopes of saving my memories somewhere my mind couldn't. well i guess it's time, eh? and perhaps it just might be i'll gain even a bit more pathetic readership. (hehe, so much for the unconventional choices)

other than thinking that migrating was a biatch for a week plus or so, i guess it was fun (as well as absolutely embarrassing) to reread stuff that, strangely, i store but i wish i never had to read. it's funny how i believe that not deleting the past would make me come to terms with it, and yet i'm strangely afraid to read the works of the ancient (well, not very so) virtual me.

various adjectives come to mind, some i'll prefer not to say, but well, stuff like pretentious, immature, quick to shoot my mouth off, and, just plain insensitive for the sake of it.

actually, i never really read them much, just plain cut and paste, but some were just crying out to be read and my eyes, they fail my commands sometimes and engage in self-depreciating acts.

gosh, how long that must have been then, since i first started in sec 1 or 2 on freeopendiary, and then sec 3 on ebloggy, and now here. it's like, uh, 7 years or thereabouts?

but the funny thing is, during migration you actually do learn about yourself. i'm not in a position of authority to say that it's evolution, but somehow you grow more intelligent (i sure do hope), more mature (yes this too), and more toned down.

but you lose something too, like the innocence of youth, and the exuberance for life, and the passion and naive attitude towards the world in general. save lives, make a difference, be the king of the world, etc.

and you become jaded, and unwillingly accept your lot in life, until you yourself are convinced that this is to be.

i guess sometimes you feel like you've improved as a person, but what you've lost just discounts yourself from a human being, from what was initially 'to be'.

but hey, guess what. i'm actually quite content and feeling lucky that i turned out this way in fact. thanks to a lot, and also a particular person!

yup, you older and wiser one.