thisguy

it's been raining everyday for the past couple of weeks, yet i'm reminded of something i wrote circa 2004 -

so it's been 2 years since we were sitting on that fence in westminster watching london revel.

and it's been a year since we were gathered at bahir's place in the city watching the valley revel.

tonight will be relatively quiet, and i've decided that i am ok with that. sobriety should be embraced gracefully every now and then.

if you haven't already noticed, i've not been "in the zone" as far as writing is concerned. but i'm determined to put out a decent post before the evening is over.

without further ado, i'll let the sentimentality take over -

thisyear found thisguy;

• participating in the production of one of Malaysia's most exciting new local films
  
• getting lowballed by some bastards in the industry (and some outside the industry)
  
• gaining weight in penang
  
• setting up house for the kitten in seremban
  
• riding camels in karachi
  
• scoping thai chicks in bangkok
  
• tomb raiding, playing erhu and guzzling amok and angkor beer in siem reap
  
• hitting on hooter girls and sipping s'pore slings with an englishman in singapore
  
• singing queen anthems with the mafia and guzzling speedy's wild boar curry with jon in cherating
  
• chilling, brokebacking and getting super wasted in pangkor
  
• drinking beer topless with the five families and upgrading my software with colleagues in genting
  
• scaring suburban passers by at oktoberfest with the lousiest indian drinkers this side of the city
  
• migrating this blog then losing half a year's worth of journal entries
  
• catching up with old friends and struggling to re-establish ties (didnt do so well in this department)
  
• buying a new christmas tree for my family (it's a symbolic thing)

i don't think i've worked harder ever in my life before, yet i seem to have squeezed in a crazy amount of play too. to top that all, i got my best ever new year's present - my first promotion! (no raise yet though)

if you've stopped by to read this, drop a note and i hope you've had a good year and an even better one to come.

if you've had a shit year, go visit this site, and thank god for not having it as bad as saddam.

may not always be attracted to the beauty of light - it's the heat that drives them. anywhere, anyway, anyhow, away from the cold.

do you ever get plagued by a destructive desire?
to pack up and leave
to pile it all up and set aflame
to line it up then kick it down
to bury...

then again - since time is fleeting, burning like a candle, perhaps destruction is already in motion.

"It is impossible to step into the same river twice. No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man."
- Heraclitus

it's funny how i read that line while sitting on a makeshift swing, a log tied to a tree, swaying over the sands of a beach in pangkor island over the weekend. it was from a milan kundera book i happened to bring along in an attempt to figure out a few things and eventually finish reading what i started almost a year ago.

we found our way on the island after a bout of spelunking, multiple breakfasts consisting of toast, half boiled eggs, begedel, milo and ming court (behind excelsior hotel - so i remember) dimsum. it was a trip to bid rohan farewell and come to terms with another piece of youth lost to the real world (if there really is no such thing, how come we can't seem to ever lose sight of it?).

through the drunken events, go-karting and flippant conversations that ensued, i couldn't entirely get over the sense of melancholy at the back of my head. perhaps that would be why after 8 cans of beers and a very successful round of bluff, nightmares still plagued my sleep.

i've been to the island many times since childhood, to fish, heal wounds with family, welcome new family members, contemplate regrets with friends, flirt with girlguides and now, to say goodbye.

i can only wonder what the next trip there will be for?

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
R. Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

stumbled on the above poem while surfing. quite like it although I don't know much about Frost's other poems, except for the overquoted "two paths diverged in a woods" poem.

i spent the weekend here driving around, getting lost, finding the way again and doing random things like finding the ocean and learning about shisha pipes.

i suppose its good to surrender to randomness of new surroundings. but that also sometimes serves to make you miss the comforts of a life less random.

is it possible to miss two cities at once?
here's something i wrote a few years ago.

15 minutes to 9.05am

its early morning- 9am is too early.
i stumble out of bed and get ready for class in just over five minutes, microwave a hot drink and fumble with putting my eyes in. and i leave for classes. i take a route through traffic lights, - passing a mad trail of suits, joggers and the occasional homeless person staggering in a drunken stupor. all facets of possibilities. pieces of each other, living off the city- a symbiosis in this urban jungle- the rich feeding off the poor feeding off the rich. and then there are the lesser parasites- people like me- the odd immigrant student- part parasite, part harmless observer.

i make my way through the green lights and squeeze through the reds- pass the bakeries, the morning diners, newstands with headlines i read to catch up on what the masses are thinking about. i wonder sometimes if "the end of the world is today" was plastered on those billboards, would anyone really give a damn ? prolly not. i walk on through the alleyway shortcut i know- the smells of the thai restaurant mixing with the british fry-up place- wafting and reminding me that a watery cup of milo is not enough for a young adult to have for breakfast. but i digress. i'm actually rushing.

and so i rush on, passing by a park, i always look out for people out walking their dogs, and wish i was them. its bound to be the most satisfying thing - waking up in the morning, taking a nicely coiffered dog out for a stroll in the park, while the students hurry by. Then i realise, life is like this- always about different perspectives, if i really were a 65 year old out walking my dog on a calm monday morning, i'd prolly be wishing i were the student rushing to university, young and burdened but ultimately, filled with purpose and possibilities. so i tell myself life is fair and my morning must go on and i have 3 minutes to reach my classroom 10 minutes late. i go on, sidestepping the sidewalk cracks and lugging my satchel.

life goes on, sometimes we forget the reasons, we don't talk about the before and after, and get too stuck in the moment of things- but its not always bad to be stuck. in fact sometimes it's pretty damn beautiful.

beauty in the mundane on a monday. classic.

thisguy circa 2004

published today.

i'm not cheesed off with the edits our favourite mainstream government newspaper made. especially since it was edited by someone i trust. if anything, i'm glad she kept to the spirit of the series and supported the honesty the piece tries to share. you might even say i censored myself in terms of the other things i could've written about.

at least what i was trying to say managed to get through - perhaps in the covered up world of malaysian politics, that's enough for today.

a lone guinness does wonders to create clarity in stressed minds.

have been busy up to my eyeballs and literally swimming in work - my cubicle's a mess - i've been having working lunches/dinners and fallen asleep in that little 3x2 space, it's not funny.

lately i've felt as if i've been somewhat stuck in my orbit, and funnily enough, many around me have drifted out of theirs. farewells, break-ups, home-comings, new-births, births-to-come and corporate developments have kind of left me wondering when's my turn to move on.

i'm still learning alot. moving on is not even close to necessary at this point, and i'm pretty certain, i'll stay where i am for at least the near future, but all the more, that makes me restless.

[excerpt from an old blog entry]

i remember being young and having my mom tell me the story about the stone cutter- you know the stonecutter guy who's cutting stones one day and looks up at the scorching hot sun and wishes to God that he could live his life as the sun and then he gets his wish granted- so he becomes the sun until one day the clouds come and block his view and so he wishes that he could be the clouds- and so then he becomes the clouds until the wind comes and blows him away- so he's still not satisfied and wants to be as powerful as the wind and *poof* he becomes the wind and is happy until one day the wind tries to blow down a boulder but the boulder is heavy and does not budge. so the wind wishes he could become a boulder- strong and steady. so he becomes the boulder and then- is proud that he is strong and steady- until this bastard stonecutter comes along and chips the boulder to pieces- and then the boulder wishes he was the...

so you get my drift right ? there's no fast way to tell that story anyway. and yes- mothers are dangerous things-

my mom always pointed out that the stonecutter was foolish in never being satisfied with who he was and instead of concentrating on what he was doing, he kept dreaming and wishing for things he didnt have. but the way i see it- true- the stonecutter was one fickle bitch but at least he got to experience being the sun, the wind and all that. and i guess that would've been fun- more fun than picking at a stone all day long...

this has been a super chill weekend. devoid of work responsibilities for once. the weather has been amazing, the traffic jams haven't - yet they've contributed in part to the more interesting moments this weekend. my thoughts don't connect, so i'll write them as they came - disjointed and random.

-

bae was at the wheel, driving his drunkard friends home. i looked out at the side mirror. windows were down. alcohol and cigarette perfumed the night air and wind rushed at my slightly sticky face. i stared hard at my eyes and wondered what ever happened to the big saucer-like eyes that i had once upon a time. those eyes gazed at the mundane with child-like wonder, and more importantly, they let people in - rarely discriminated, rarely doubted and they would stare back with confidence - eyes wide opened.

these days, my eyes are small, heavy, still, faded and they rely on the muscles of my face instead to project confidence. my small eyes seem strained from guarding other people's secrets. shrunken and sometimes more piercing, i'm more shrewd where i used to be shallow. but i'd also like to think my eyes are kinder now than they used to be. stronger than they used to be. but reluctant to relook and relive the shit i've been through so far.

-

it rained hard outside. i sat on her couch, that green suede-ish piece of furniture where we first held hands. she studied while i played with her dogs and napped and dreamt of stealing delicacies from a bakery.

-

somewhere in a new york moment, something pretty special happened.

-

back here in kl, i'm not sure what magic there is left to believe in or rather, what good it'll do now.

i thought one of the smartest things in publication history occured last year when YOU were named Time Magazine's Person of the Year (2006).

this year, Time's Person of the Year (2007) is Russian President Vladimir Putin.

The Russian President was so money that he took dumps dressed in Armani suits on leather toilet bowls

Al Gore missed it narrowly.

But the question really is - what happened to you? And will you ever be on the cover of Time again?

after sacrificing the past couple of weekends to work, i really made the most of my free weekend last week. attended 2 gigs - one jazz, one folk and took part in a live performance art event. i'm eager to do more now!

i've been wanting to contribute to the local underground scene here. make a departure from my stiff collar corporate existence and plunge into the pseudo pretentious yet unabashedly talented underbelly of this crazy city.

i'm on the lookout for poetry open mics.

and if i do go, i think i'll read one of the following.

feedback?

purification

i strip my own layers off
like sand from the sea
layer upon layer
until all i see is me

like smeared ink on seared flesh,
sliced skin and torn dress,
the purification hurts at first
but quenches the thirst

for that new beginning
that silver lining
at the end of the storm
feels like something reborn

0205

dead molecules

"you're not the only one who can build walls" he said
and so it began- the silence thickening like frost
cold and impenetrable, but never really permanent
ice sometimes looks empty but never really is
it is the molecules of deep water that suddenly refused to move
indifferent and unfeeling, sometimes we just s t o p

0205

3days(let me in)

why won't you let me in
why won't you sing
play a little music and make the lights go dim

steal the show
start a row
when things heat up we'll go with the flow

why don't you fix this chest
take time off, rest
let loose the demons and try our best

to keep this evening
forget the feeling
forget the leaving, forget deceiving

lock the doors
lie on the floor
why don't we stay up the night till four

why won't you let me in
show a little skin
play a little music when the lights go dim

steal the show
you kiss, i'll blow
tell me if i'm going too slow

why won't you let me in why won't you let me in

052005

every now and then i come across snippets of stories online which i suddenly "connect" to.

i have a weird fascination with the oddities of life and a tendency to romanticise both the ultra mundane and the peculiar.

take this story for instance : Drunken Swede tries to row home from Denmark

COPENHAGEN (Reuters) - A drunken 78-year-old Swede stole a dinghy after a night out in the Danish town of Helsingor and tried to row back to Sweden, but fell asleep halfway, Danish police said on Monday.

When the man discovered he lacked the necessary funds to pay for the ferry from Helsingor to Helsingborg in Sweden on Saturday, he decided to row the five km (three miles) across the strait of Oresund that separates the two.

He quickly grew tired and, trusting fortune and the currents to see him safely home, took a snooze at the bottom of the boat, where Danish police later found him out at sea, still asleep.

The strait is one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world. Police said the owner of the dinghy had decided not to press charges.

i'm not sure what connected me. the drunken determination this old man had or his subsequent trust in fate that he would be drifted back home even after he grew tired of rowing.

---

i'm back from a pretty eventful trip to macau and hong kong. many firsts, and new experiences as well as the familiar exhaustion that follows days of hitting the road with just a map, water, camera, (no lonely planet!) friends and conversation to get you through the day.

if you couldn't already tell, i'm feeling melancholic too.

disgruntled with this life that seems to throw us all against each other. like random molecules in a random gravitational pull that makes no sense at all. we collide, impact each other's lives, hold on as tight as we can with the few limbs we have and let go of so many others.

if i can't hold on, i want to at least make sure i made an impact big enough to be really felt. in this universe, with it's rules of chemistry, physics, biology, economics and social science, that'll have to do for now. impact.

... is over," he realised, floating near the edge of the pool.

beer can, girlfriend, bro-friends nearby, a perfect shade of sunshower, water that felt just the right caress of cool.

rohan's leaving on thurs. the last of the abrahams of summer - off to face london's rat race. it's hard to understand why we didn't do more pool afternoons on the sundays he was here.

redang's come and gone. next week it's mongolia and krabi in rapid succession. (perhaps seoul or beijing in between - depending on layover lengths)

i can't say this summer's been all fun and games. the only off-days i took were for company trips to macau and redang. yet weekend after precious weekend i've managed to interlace a weird successive mix of alternate madness/drunkedness and work.

this weekend, was neither. futsal, swimming, kitten evenings and a really good night last night spent watching John Mayer's "where the light is" concert dvd - can i have more of this please?

for some strange reason, the stereophonic's "dakota" is playing in on one of the websites open in my window tray. the song seems to follow me around. making its presence felt most on the last days of summer...

read on for an entry to the beat of dakota written 4 summers ago...