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No trespassing beyond this point
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Wednesday, March 31, 2004

 
I had gone out to meet a friend tonight, a first in many days because I had been cancelling all my appointments after the incident. I liked the place, had a couple of drinks, and felt somewhat at peace.

By the way, I have hung the dreamcatcher at my bedroom window. Amidst the thin white cotton of curtains, it beguiles in subtlety. Thank you.

Sunday, March 28, 2004

 
Today right now I have to relive the awful facts of last Sunday. We probably were still doing the run-catch-throw practice drills. The match has yet to start.

Saturday, March 27, 2004

 
Happy Birthday, N. Sorry I could not be in a more uplifting mood these few days. I had been looking forward to this day since the day you told me. Even now, it has been something cheerful I can focus on (Don't you run away, your 'lil present is still with me). Hope you have had a great day, because you do so deserve it.

 

身后传来的声音,又是谈论我和她之间的事情
只是对她付多一点关心
只是有心事就说给她听
并不代表对他动了真感情
究竟是什么原因,没人相信我们存在的是友情
再也不想费尽唇舌说明
再也不愿一次次澄清
难道真的没人了解我的心

He once sent me this, but I had barely glanced at it then deleted it. I found it (thankfully) in my recycle bin the other day and read it in completeness for the first time. I didn't know he had written about us, about our platonic friendship that had always been the subject of rampant teasing (intentionally publicly misunderstood or otherwise)... I'm sorry I had never paid enough attention to him when he spoke and now I cannot remember all that he had told me, all his inner thoughts.

 

I'm feeling better these couple of days, but I haven't been able to focus on school work at all. I haven't done anything when I am already lagging so much behind. I will try to get some work done later, hopefully. The grieving period is always a day too short and as harsh reality commands the truth, time has never paused, even momentarily, for our grief pain and loss. I can't believe it has been a week already. It felt just like yesterday.

Thursday, March 25, 2004

 
I can't practise what I'd preached to his grieving friends. Life will never be able to return to normalcy. I can't help reflecting on the events just hours before it happened, or in the days last week... Barnesy is gone for real. I didn't realize the impact he had made on my daily life until he is here no more. He always jokingly called my mom godma, so I guess that made him my godbrother somewhat. The more I think back on the past, the more I see his goodness in the little things he had always done for me. This raw wound just cannot be healed.

 

Barnesy: and i haven read my stuff for AMA
wee ling corleone: i havent read for AA tomorr
Barnesy: i found a strand of your hair in the text
Barnesy: :$
Barnesy: tie it to mine...and we will be a couple
wee ling corleone: Hey!
wee ling corleone: lol
wee ling corleone: silly behavior
wee ling corleone: how did u know its mine
wee ling corleone: maybe its my mom's?
Barnesy: coz its long
wee ling corleone: or my sister's?
wee ling corleone: she has long hair too
Barnesy: not that long
wee ling corleone: or meijun when she read the book
Barnesy: ...
Barnesy: silly
wee ling corleone: haha
Barnesy: i m keeping it
wee ling corleone: doin everything to prevent you from tyingthe hair
Barnesy: :$
wee ling corleone: dont be silly can
Barnesy: ...
wee ling corleone: like some voodoo spell
Barnesy: u think i really going to tie
wee ling corleone: sob
wee ling corleone: haha
wee ling corleone: yes
wee ling corleone: lol
Barnesy: !!!*^@!%&@#_%(@&!(%()#&
Barnesy: stop it silly girl
Barnesy: if u are to be mine..u would be one fine day
Barnesy: muahahahaha
wee ling corleone: .....


A goofy conversation between wee ling corleone stabbed, drowns in (b) "hick!" and Barnesy: When it is time to let go, clinging on would only bring more troubles..Cheer up girl~~!! at 12:29:40 AM on 2 Mar 2004. It's ironic how our nicknames seem to hint of the impending disaster, although the 'girl' reference in his did not mean I.

 

As I lie on my bed crying each night, you must be feeling worse off than I - missing us and alone out there somewhere by yourself.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

 
He had looked fine before the match, and we had met up to go to the competition venue together. He came down to my neighborhood for lunch, a rarity because we live so far away from each other. We talked alot of crap like usual, on our way to the venue, reached there and barely played five minutes. He collapsed. I could still see him gasping for air. He was making strange sounds. His face was turning black. He could not be resuscitated. Then he died on me. My good friend. Why do you have to die on me? I do not want to be the one who had to call your mom. I do not want to be the one who sent out those text messages and emails regarding your wake and funeral details. I rather not be offering you a joss stick in prayer. Because you were still so alive just moments before. Words can barely describe my grief. I can only keep on crying.

 

In Memoriam: Ying Jie, Our Mate Who Has Fallen
8 Sep 1980 - 21 Mar 2004


Tributes are for Heroes, for people in their prime.
But our dear friend was not given the chance to reach his prime even.
On Sunday we have lost more than a team mate –
A buddy who never fails to cheer us up on busy and stressful days
An individual who knows university years are beyond grades and job hunting ahead
A friend who is true passionate and frank
who speaks his mind never just to please others.
How could someone with such an optimistic outlook on life leave his loved ones so soon?
How could he walk away when we had thought we would all graduate together?
Left us online as his instant messenger status now forever remains offline?
His sudden demise has left us devastated,
shattered us into so many pieces.
School will never be the same again. And trainings will seem strange without Pacey Fu.

We will all have to be strong. Be united in the faith that
perhaps he is in a better place, somewhere, with the little animals he has always loved.
Watching over us

Making sure we will treasure life, transient as it always is
Duly live our lives to the fullest

And reach our prime one day.


Saturday, March 20, 2004

 
Can anyone differentiate the fact from the fiction?

A HK drama storyline (fresh from the box this evening). A concubine painstakingly devised a scheme where she shielded her son from a fatal stab, in a fake show of selflessness. She managed to gain sympathy successfully.

The Taiwan presidential elections (also fresh from the box this evening). Mr. Lien had been narrowly favored to win until President Chen's lower abdomen and Vice President Annette Lu's right knee were grazed by one or more bullet while they were riding in a motorcade through Mr. Chen's hometown in southern Taiwan on Friday afternoon.

 

From Bites of the Week (13-19 Mar 2004):

Singapore is the most desirable place for expatriates to live in Asia, according to a survey. To distinguish the island from alternative locations like rival Hong Kong, the Singapore government "has gone out of its way to create a comfortable living environment for expatriates", said Hong Kong-based Political and Economic Risk Consultancy (PERC) in a study on 12 Asian countries. Singapore needs to import foreign talent to promote development of its bioscience and advanced education sectors and keep them on the cutting edge. These expatriates are frequently well paid, and Singapore is "doing a good job" in making sure they live in a more comfortable environment than alternative locations like San Francisco and Sydney, it said.


My conviction (perceived stubbornness perhaps) dictates that I believe otherwise, until I see it for myself. Some friends from Europe once laughed at my desire to work abroad. Why go to some place with overpriced food, inefficient transportation system, higher costs of living, numerous strikes, bad weather and expensive housing when we are all coming here to live the good life, they said.

The bad news has to be that I am living in ooh, expat heaven. How I probably would have to settle for some 'second-rate' city if I am to work abroad one day, and the thought of it so bothers me. Right, as if. Just like how I know no amount of travelling will bring me to the best airport since I am already at its departure hall. By the way, I got ma mom to thank for yesterday. For further hardening my resolve to reach out to my dream.

Friday, March 19, 2004

 
From swissinfo:

Wyss admits that competition in the flash memory market is fierce but he is confident that brand awareness and high quality features will pay off.

“The flash memory is produced by a Swiss company and our army knives are known around the world,” he told swissinfo.



Now this is really something. The geek in me is excited, are you?

Thursday, March 18, 2004

 
From a commentary by the Paris-based William Pfaff:

In strategic and political matters, Iraq is expected to become an American ally and client, as the Gulf emirates already are, as Saudi Arabia has been for more than a half-century -- and as the Shah's Iran was from World War II war until its Khomeini revolution.

This leaves no room for Iraqi nationalism. It is a divided force now, and relatively weak, because of Iraq's divisions. But nothing empowers and unifies nationalism so effectively as a foreign military occupation. Think World War II: Greece, Yugoslavia, Poland, France -- Russia. Think postwar Indochina and Algeria. Think Vietnam.



Indeed. The common sovereign enemy always makes an excellent visible sitting duck for disgruntled people to take aim at, without fail. Even if motivation from such a cause is barely sustainable for the long run, at least in the short term things could get done and goals accomplished. This would have to suffice for now. That is, until the day when Shiites and Sunnis see the light - better to work together in rebuilding Iraq than kill each other over it.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

 

From washingtonpost.com:

Staff Sgt. Camilo Mejia said he was particularly upset over an incident in which he and others were ambushed and innocent civilians were hit in the ensuing gunfire.

"That's one of the things that tells me there's no such thing as a fair war, no such thing as a just war," he said.



Nobody wants to go to war, yet the collective strength of our individual actions, suspicions, pride, agenda and distrust often results in combat bloodshed situations on a national scale. When diplomats and political critics alike start pointing fingers, there really isn't an answer since we can never pinpoint exactly the spark which has caused such a rift. Because, in actual fact, we are all accomplices to a crime no one wants to claim responsibility for.

Likewise, our individual expectations and standards of how white collar workers should dress in the corporate environment have culminated in the modernday self-masochism of pointy pretty heels, ties, starch stiff shirts and business suits - formal attire that everyone curses upon and dreads to wear, and then blames the conforming corporate culture on.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

 
Yayyy, my club came in third for the inter-club Open House booths competiton, now here's a spiffy $500 to add to the fundraising efforts. We were gearing for the $2000 top prize but turns out the judges didn't think we are top-notch material (dang!). Some photos of the event would be posted in due course, partly because it will be a hectic week ahead but more so because the free photo hosting server has been disappointing - the measly 5Mb daily transfer limit is definitely not enough. Anyhow, it's been a long, tiring but great bonding weekend. And anyone who knows of a better free photo hosting server, please kindly let me know.

Monday, March 15, 2004

 
After two days of fervent fundraising, I dare say I have come up with a comprehensive list of donors and fundraising-nemeses:

A1. Those who hurried by and made great effort not to notice me

B Those who were waylaid,

2. bought my story and donated

3. donated without wanting to hear much of my sales pitch

4. donated more than I'd ever expected and even refused to accept the flower/ kacang puteh

5. smiled nicely, said No and walked away

6. said No, asked for directions instead then left without a word of thanks

Sunday, March 14, 2004

 
When children hit back.



Thursday, March 11, 2004

 
The sleep-starved mind wanders into irrelevancy as the 5pm deadline beckons. I think Mika, Brent and Leia make good baby names.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

 
Colin Powell made an unexpected foray into the US presidential campaign on Monday by insisting that the issue of whether the Bush administration had misled the nation about Iraqi WMD be excluded from political debate."We ought to stick with what we said and not start changing our view a year later because it's in our political interest," said the US Secretary of State. - AFP

Some might call it escapist. And I'm on the verge of agreeing with it, as much a pro-American loyalist as I am. If the WMD issue is unable to stand up to the fundamental test of open debate, Mr Powell's opinion has unwittingly answered the million-dollar question in a way we loyalists hope not to hear.

While the task of nation-building may be difficult, strife with gaza-styled resistance, note that the road to prosperity and peace has never been free of obstacles as history has shown. The Iraq today may seem worse off than under the Saddam regime, but I believe the need to push forward political progress is worthwhile for the future of all Iraqis. I have to admit that the parties involved in the rebuilding process may have various agendas in their own self-interests, yet the peace process should not be rejected simply on such a basis, when the ends can possibly justify the means. The US-led war has become a fact, a relic of the recent past. So what if the Bush administration had garnered support to lead a war to support its own political agenda, the current outcome is certainly one that beats having Saddam in power for years to come.

 

Undermine not, the impact of these superficially-simple words. Do whateva u want as long as u are happy n can smile everyday, he said. Late night conversations with N, I never cease to learn something new, negative or otherwise, about myself everyday. Probably worth all these late nights that are bound to take a toll on my health soon enough.

Monday, March 08, 2004

 
L called and picked me up from school today for an early dinner, a farewell treat of sorts because he is going away by end of the week. Thank gawd for L and his car or I woulda been drenched. It's been raining on and on... and on and on today, mild pauses in between where mr. sky catches his breath then continues with his idea of wet fun.

We went to this place called Pomo Doro Pizzeria in an upscale suburban neighborhood I have never been to before. The food was pretty good, all of them L's orders as I exhibited my usual "anything" schoolgirl indecisiveness. Leave it all to the Primer, and indeed things can't go wrong. It was a great dinner sprinkled with ample amounts of yummy balsamic vinegar and extra virgin olive oil. Probably the last with L in a long time to come. Bon voyage, and cheers to a brilliant start new life new job in Taiwan! One up for chasing ya dream.

Sunday, March 07, 2004

 
Needles. I have a fear of needles and slit wrists. Ever since when I was young and contemplating suicide. Not my own, but of make-believe characters' on tv. They give me the creeps. Needles are generally acceptable, but most people can't comprehend why wrists? Well, the inner wrists always look so vulnerable with its more-than-barely-visible veins. And I would go on thinking what would happen if I bring a razor blade down on the thin skin... and so on. This is sick. I don't want to dwell on such unnecessarily gross matters. Recently the topic came up in three distinct conversations. And in one of them, I was questioned over the correlation between this fear and a civic organization I am involved in.

"I would be donating blood this Wednesday."

"Eeww."

"But... aren't you in UNSA?"

"Eh, yea. I just can't do it. Anything else but."

"What are you scared of?"

"I got a phobia of needles. Can't stand 'em."

"Oh."

I can't see the preconceived notion. And so, I being an ex-co member in a UN-affiliated organization would make me the most selfless youth around who contributes 90% of her allowance to poor kids in Timor Leste ond donates blood in every opportunity? Don't kid yourself. I have my fears. As real as yours too.

Thursday, March 04, 2004

 


picture-perfect glimpses of another era as years hurry past us.
these memories aren't ours to keep. one memento to remind us of moments like this.

Oh well punk friend, Happy Birthday!

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

 
I saw an Indian middle-age male at the bus stop today. He got off the bus and started vomitting into the grass nearby. He seemed to me like one of the many foreign construction workers on his way home, and by the looks of it, not feeling too well. Maybe he had a beer too many, or he was just really ill. The people at the bus-stop either gaped at him in disgust or continued waiting for their bus, since a puking Indian was none of their concern. Unless he was throwing up his lunch all over them. I would have offered him some sour plums if I had them, but I only had lozenges on me. The sight of a vomitting and sick middle-age Indian laborer seemed rather pitiful. No family to take care of him, bring him to the doctor or even walk him home. The last time I did the exact same thing years ago, I'm at least thankful now that mom was with me. And never mind she was worried sick and scolding me all the while, that was her way of showing she cared. In true Asian style.

Tuesday, March 02, 2004

 
From my extremely limited mp3 collection on the travelmate c110, my song of the moment has got to be

Love is only a feeling by The darkness. (been on replay all morning)

Note how I only use the caps only when absolutely neccesary. Perhaps I've entered a new stage in life where caps have reached a certain level of redundancy. Thoroughly out of fashion, there's still some use for them though. Complete elimination would make my sentences look funny. And so they are safe, for now. I've always found it amazing how feelings/likes/dislikes/emotions crept up on us unawares, and then stab us to the point of no return. We don't even know ourselves anymore. I didn't choose for it to happen nor had I made a selection of sorts. In a matter of night and daybreak, how can the change be so drastic? How can something so sweet-sounding/pleasant the day before now pricks me to no end? And I don't turn skeptical on the run-of-the-mill "I don't love you anymore." statements because they are more believeable than before. We can't give an explanation for something that has taken even ourselves by surprise. Maybe a plausible excuse could come from the said song title above. Well, maybe not. I don't fancy its lyrics as much as I am a sucker for its melody the tune those guitar riffs. It simply exudes this impeccable sorrow, dipped in a half-decent coat of hopelessness. I don't know, I guess I just knew it, somehow.

Monday, March 01, 2004

 


School started last week. Thrown back into the vicious cycle of projects/ assignments/ readings/ seminars/ notes, I realized I was right all along, I didn't miss it that much.

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