But an utterly sweet one, this is.

And yes, am back. And publishing those I had blogged in the past week, links as
below:

Happy Birthday, my friend
Dear Bin,
Of terrorism and insecurity
Happy Birthday, Mr Ex.
Girls’ night in
A brisk walk down (a pretty lengthy) memory lane
With Carl’s Jr money, you could buy me
For myself

High productivity, I say.

More to come, cos I had yet to blog about yesterday, which I would do so, later.

It was lazy Saturday afternoon, when I greeted the new day after an intense night with the ladies who spent the night with me.

It was more babe-fest ahead of me for the day.

With great discipline, I relied on the train to get me to Paya Lebar, instead of the more convenient but much more expensive option.

People-watch on the long train ride made the journey much more bearable.

Hitched a cab to East Coast Park, where Wenmei held her combined birthday party with her beau, Gary.

It was all quiet, with Wenmei being the sole soul around.

I had reached a tad earlier, hoping to use the spare time for a little catching up.

Wenmei, is a friend I got acquainted through the passe *sheepish* IRC back in 1999.

I was 18, and her, a mere 17 year-old.

I was in UK back then, and we were chatting on the channel where Hwachongnians gathered.

I wasn’t a HJCian, yet, I had quite many friends from there.

As I got back, I took up a relief teaching job at Hwachong for a week.

As a Physical Education teacher. Taking classes of 17 and 18 years-old, many of whom were my ex-classmates and peers.

It was the day on her 17th birthday.

I bought a card, scribbled some what-nots, and brought along with me for classes that day.

I checked the timetable, and was aware that her class, was having lessons in the same court as the class I was taking that afternoon.

I brought the card along with me.

After the lessons ended, I asked one of the girls if the class was 99s22, and I asked if Wenmei was around.

I passed her the card which kickstarted the friendship.

One day, she paged me to ask if I was still in school.

I was.

She had needed help to book a barbeque pit for her class BBQ, but was underaged to do so.

That afternoon, we went down to East Coast Park together.

Slowly, a friendship blossomed.

And, she popped my clubbing cherry by suggesting that we should check Zouk out.

It was 4th November 1999.

My first Mambo and local clubbing experience.

And, the rest, as they said, were history.

The staying over, the intimate talks, the clubbing, the shopping, the girlie stuffs..

So, the trip to East Coast Park 6 years later, was pretty inducive for a glimpse back into the past, again.

Since then, I met countless pals of hers, from different phases of her life.

Her junior college classmates, juniors, primary school mates, clubbing mates, NUS School of Computing mates…

This time, I was introduced to her 19 year-old sister, and 16 year-old cousin, who reached the chalet shortly after I did.

Still, I was glad we did have a short chat before she busied herself with the food and beverages.

She questioned my decision to have a break from blogging, and was really sweet and encouraging.

Since the crowd had not started pouring in, we then had fun taking silly snapshots of us in the air-conditioned room on the 2nd storey.

Here’s one.

Acting sweet.

Me and the soon-to-be birthday girl(13th, you see) looking terribly cheesy.

I was left in a state of shock when her 16 year-old cousin went into hysteria and exclaimed, ‘MEN?! Where? Let’s go!‘ when Wenmei said Gary’s guy pals were here.

Tsk tsk. Kids nowadays.

Should be like me, act cool and composed when the excitement is bursting within, ya know? Muahaha.

Don’t look at me as if I am a desperado.

With Finicky Feline finding her happiness, it’s only right for me to feel immensely jealous, and unwanted.

She lamented to me how unwanted she felt she is, and had resoluted to get attached by the end of this month.

That lucky bitch. She got everything she asked for.

What about me?!

Okay, I digress.

As the crowd started pouring in, Wenmei’s sister, her cousin, and I, took a walk along the beach.

I feel old among them.

Wenyi, Wenmei’s sister, and me.

The pretty 16 year-old cousin, and the chinook with the Singapore flag behind us.

I love you, Singapore! Whee.

Duh, I almost forgot I was never a Singaporean.

Muahaha, don’t blame me for this shot. I am just trying to match the 16 year-old.

I love the sea.

Alas, I didn’t meet Mr Romantic under such…. mesmerising setting.

Went back to the chalet and saw Shujun there with her other junior college classmates.

Shujun, Wenmei and I used to be the trio who would hit Mambo religiously every Wednesday.

6 years ago, that is.

Gee.

Such pretty and yummy mix of colours! And people, of course.

Wenmei, Ting, Shujun and Lihui.

There were familiar faces of the guys from their class, who used to be my IRC chatmates.

I had even joined their class gatherings on a couple of occasions.

But, they had forgotten about me, completely.

Apparently, it was more of a case that they failed to recognise me.

We ventured up to somewhere cooler, where we wouldn’t be baked in the obscene heat.

It wasn’t long before Gary’s pals came up and liven up the room with some lame card games.

I didn’t lose much.

But they had made me drink ONE SIP of chivas, neat when it was my turn to forfeit.

Within 30 seconds, I turned into a bright hue of scarlet.

It was all it takes.

The delirious one.

The Hwachong guys then started to probe about me, especially Zhenhao and Jingpei who had failed to recall me, at all.

Odd thing was, I could remember most stuffs about them.

Clarence’s brother was there too, and he was from 00s22, a class I had crashed the orientation some 5 years ago.

Man, that was fun. And a bundle of fabulous memories.

He too, couldn’t quite place me in his memory.

His class had even stayed overnight at mine’s back then.

Eventually, they managed to place a vague picture together, and attributed my weight gain as the main culprit as to why they failed to recognise me.

Argh.

And the evil ones then decided to play silly games like ’007′ and ‘Bunny’ which I was getting a tad slow to keep up with them.

We then proceeded down for the cake-cutting, and I saw the clubbing babes.

The gorgeous ones.

It was Roumin’s birthday on the very day, 9th.

Quaint thing was, it was said that Philip resembles Gary, and Philip’s birthday is on the 10th, whilst Gary’s is on the 9th.

Same year. 1978.

Cute.

To end the night, I took a picture with the guys whom I once acquainted, but had since to cease in their memories.

Those late nights IRC chats back years ago…

Finally, it was time of the night to bid the girls goodbye as my dad picked me up.

A kiss for the birthday girl who had brought much pleasant memories to me.

A friend, who is always honest, and yet you will always love her for who she is, cos there’s no pretense about her.

Happy birthday, gorgeous one.

And, am truly ecstatic to see that you have found someone of such magnificent quality to love, and hold you.

It was the true happiness that re-lit that sparkle in your eyes which was lost along the way some time back.

I miss that, and I am glad to see it is here to stay, for good.

Such bliss.

*HUG*

Aww. Yet another walk down the past, again.

Phew.

What a weekend.

Once, I was awed by the coincidences that made you my friend.

‘Fate,’ You said.

Sadly, the busy schedules faded the occasional contact, and I still not know who you really are.

Yeap, you make me curious, as a person, as a friend.

It is always rousing to pry deeper into someone else’s world, especially someone who leads a life at the other end of the spectrum.

How would it make them, or rather, you, different.

How genuine, or how sincere a friend you are.

I thought you were, but have yet to verify it.

I still would like to think so.

Would such a life prevent you from staying true to yourself?

Many questions.

Not that I want to ask, but I had wanted to observe to see for myself.

I think I found some answers over supper some time back.

Yet, the inquisite me would still want to see beyond that. To see you as an average individual. A rather interesting one, that is.

Wonder if you would ever want to make do of being seen as one, though.

Perhaps I might never find out.

Still, it was such great and extreme pleasure.

Happy birthday. May the good Lord bless you abundantly for the year ahead, and guide you smoothly through the heavy routine that would come pouring in 2nd half of the year.

May He bless you of good health and such.

See you soon.

I flicked my head over my left shoulder, as I stole a final glimpse of you, at the peak of the steps.

You were high up there, faraway from us.

I didn’t let my gaze linger too long. I didn’t want to.

It is the day of the year again.

Yet, it was my first visit, in the past 3 years.

Finally, I didn’t have any commitment on this day to be happy, just because I had to be.

This day, is exclusively yours, this year.

It was the first time when I celebrated his birthday, when the news of you got to me.

10 am in the morning, I remember.

The morning which had started out with lotsa bliss and cuddles cos the boyfriend had taken a day off.

***

Dad’s car exited from the expressway, as we returned from Malaysia yesterday.

It was past midnight. 10th June.

As the vehicle came to a halt at the junction, I shifted in my seat, and sat up.

3 years ago, late 9th June, this was where it all happened yuh?

The mental picture wouldn’t stop replaying.

My own interpretation of what had happened.

***

I turned my back to you, and walked out, head bowed.

Into the rain.

Was the skies crying on my behalf?

How melancholy.

How timely.

As the thoughts of you came flooding in, the rain rinsed the dust that settled, and presented a crystalline view.

It made the picture more surreal than it already was.

My companions for the day remembered you fondly, too.

They joked, they laughed, they talked about you as if you were in the midst of us.

They love you. We all do.

This is the way we remember him by, Yang said.

I might be oversensitive, but behind that smile, I detected a sense of longing.

Longing for a lost buddy.

The thunders flashed relentlessly as the 7 of us paced in the drizzle.

I covered my ears in fear as I normally would. Yet, the fear was overshadowed by countless questions, and a mix of feelings which I couldn’t quite put a finger to.

Damp, and thoughtful.

I am thankful that they showed me the routine they had practised for the past years they had visited you.

Still, I was overwhelmed by regrets.

Yet, I had learnt to remember you the way, your awesome pals had chosen to remember you by.

Was there a hue of denial?

Perhaps it was only me, still in a slight bit of denial.

***

As the cab came to a halt in front of the temple, I exhaled heavily as I stepped into the pouring rain.

The raindrops calmed me, as I bit my lower lip to contain my nervousness.

They told me you were in there.

They pointed you out to me, in between arguments as to which of the many, was you.

There, I saw you, at the peak of the steps.

I could barely make out that was you.

It was so distant.

***

As the cab pulled into the carpark of your flat, I got out and scanned the vicinity.

I recognised this place.

It was the place I last saw you well and alive, in 2000.

It was Christmas Eve.

You alighted the bus, and we pretended we didn’t know each other.

Why?

Why didn’t I say something?

***

I saw the pair of slippers outside your home.

It was the same brown pair as those you had worn back in those days when we were close.

Early 16s.

You would wear the same model of slippers for your basketball games.

***

Liverpool fan, you were.

What did I say about my affinity with them.

***

I found a picture of you a couple of weeks ago.

It was a blurred picture, with your side profile, your head bowed.

Were you bowing in defeat to the twisted fate that had taken you away?

Another picture of you, together with Yang and me, sitting on my bed.

While clearing the drawer, I wonder if it was a chain of coincidences that I saw the Tazmania Devil keychain, the Valentine’s design Swatch watch, the dolphin necklace we had shopped together for at Northpoint, and the blue heart-shaped pendant you had given me on my birthday.

Everything just surfaced together, that night.

I sat there, right by the drawer, reminscing the tiny bits of past we shared.

Slight regrets.

I had never loved you in that way, but I had always loved you as a friend, despite the large absence of friendship in between thereafter.

I gave a bitter laugh as I recalled the silly juvenile happenings back then.

I gave a sweet smile as I recalled the 3-way chats we used to share with Yang, and the many good times we shared as friends.

Did I finally get a closure today?

I think I did.

***

I finally found out what you used back then.

The scent that still reminds me of you.

CK be.

***

They said the signs were all there.

Were they?

As I listened to your parents’ speaking fondly of you, it was a quaint picture.

Your name was constantly brought up in the most light-hearted manner, but there was a slight sting that lingered.

It was just too painful, listening to them, and your friends, of your last moments.

***

The jokes, the teases, the jibes.

At your expense.

They brought a warm smile to my face, and to everyone’s.

***

And here, my thoughts, on the same day, 2 years ago, on your first anniversary.

I decided to quote them here, cos they still represent very much of what I still am thinking.

Rang Wo Huan Xi Rang Wo You – A song which I shared with this guy I knew in Secondary 4. Someone who jogged, played basketball, shopped(not for clothes, more of gadgets, or browsings), chatted on the phone with me. Was like a best pal. But nope, don’t read too much into the lyrics. We didn’t start a relationship, though we did have a very strong friendship then. But I admit, this song did sound a little mushy then.

I hesitated with my answer once, which blurred the line of a relationship. He proposed. I replied ‘I don’t know.’ He asked ‘Can I hold your hand next time I go out with you?’. I thought it was sweet, but I freaked out.

To me then: Hold hands?! How can?! So I replied ‘We shall see hehe.’

I was nervous.

We never gotten that close. It was the first time I was THAT close to a first in relationship. One day, he asked again. I was quite sure it wasn’t what I wanted. A firm no. My justification? I was too young then. Not ready. Somehow something didn’t feel right for me then. I was this tomboy that never thought relationships are on my cards.

The request to hold my hands freaked me out, somehow. It made me realise, he wasn’t quite the one.

And, there was someone else on my mind then. A crush that had went on for 2 years at that point when I met him – 1997. Someone.

I cruelly told him so.

Will you accept me if he is not in the picture?

Yes, I said.

Sadly, that spelt the end of a beautiful friendship with other misunderstandings involved. Which led to not even a hi or bye when we walked past each other on so many occasions when I dropped by Hwachong. Eventually we moved on. Haha, it was more of like those 2 shy people who had certain liking for each other in those ancient movies which eventually led to nothing kind.

The last time I saw him was Christmas Eve 2000. On a bus to Choa Chu Kang. We were like strangers. I wanted to flash a smile, but didn’t have the courage too. Somehow I always wanted to tell him, he was one of the friends I really wish I never have to lose. Not when it was caused by some misunderstandings.

He was a sweet friend, ever so mild-natured. Though there was liking for him then, but eventually he was just a friend whom I really do appreciate. Hard to describe that friendship, not those romantic love or special in that sense, but just a friend you know it’s worth to have. So before anyone here thinks I am reminiscing a lost love, *dry laugh*, I’m not.

I wanted to blog this before midnight. But decided not to. 10th July is supposed to be a joyful day, as Philip celebrates his birth, thus, I didn’t want the previous blog to have a tinge of sadness attached.

But I’d like to dedicate this blog to a special friend. Yeap, the one who shared the song with me. 10th July marks another significant day.

Bin, I still keep your cards, the keychain, the pictures, the necklace and most importantly, the memories because everyone agrees that what a sweet friend you had been. I always thought there will be a day when we can start talking and laugh at how silly we get ourselves into because of some misunderstandings caused by someone petty.

The thoughts of you flood my mind as this day drew close. Though it should be a happy occasion for me, but then, there’s this conflicting emotions in me. Was singing the song yesterday, and suddenly tears just broke free.

Haha am I getting a tad too emotional here?

I never thought you would end up riding. Something I never thought you would do. As we moved on in life, I never thought we would head similar directions into area of bikes.

It was definitely the most painful way for me to realise that.

I never forget that you were a great friend, despite I was perhaps a complete zilch in your life.

I wish I had said hi that Christmas Eve. I really do.

(blogged this on the night of 10th July, but past midnight, so it already is 11th July. Was trying hard to remember something about him. I just came home from East Coast moments ago. It was funny how I was standing there waiting for cab, when this familiar scent overwhelmed me. Yes. That was what I was trying to recall. Couldn’t quite catch what’s the perfume. That was the scent of my lost friend.)

It was yet another part of past ringing.

The people whom I met up for the visit, were an incredible combination.

Rest in peace, Bin.

I’ll visit you again.

Since returning from London 6 years ago, it is my usual practise to keep that familiarity ablaze with my daily dosage of English news.

I had multiple chills when I load the usual sites today.

Every headline, and sub-headline is of such massive impact, sending endless chills down my spine, rousing every single goosebump.

The gory pictures, painted the night gloom.

I muttered a prayer of thanks, for the safety of those I know.

This is just too obscene for words.

Countless ‘why’s repeated throughout as the visuals of those images giving us a vivid account of what had happened.

Many people seems calm. The footages on news showed how the injured were cool and composed as they were interviewed.

Or were they too shock for words?

Perhaps, they were in one of the scenes, counting themselves unlucky to be involved in an unfortunate accident, without realising there was a chain of mishaps going on, pointing to the direction of terrorism.

Still, we see fear, anguish, anxiety and most of all, bewilderness on every single face of the nation.

The silent screams of anguish splattered across in bold red across their faces.

No, the world to be exact.

I am truly frustrated too.

Why?

How could this happen?

The countless appeals from families who are still looking for their missing kins, pouring encouragements from one frightened soul to another to tide the community over, and the defiant resilience the people are putting up, refusing to bow down to such despicable attempts to divide the people further bugged the headlines.

Such, is a humbling event for the Brits who are famed for their utmost pride.

What do we see here?

Such tragedy. Absolutely inhumane.

That happened on my favourite date. 7/7.

Lord, what’s going on?

6 years ago, the nail bombs were going off one after another in London as well, on a much minute scale, and killed quite a number of people in the midst.

I was there in the city, with my giant Nike bag constantly rousing the suspicion of people back in those days.

And a trip to the theatre to catch a lesbian film(it was an art flick, alright) was a hassled affair with my bag ransacked to make sure I didn’t have any bomb with me.

I remembered a friend from Imperial College was carrying one of those Deuter haversacks and when I met him at (if I am not wrong) Leicester Square station, and I exclaimed jokingly, ‘HOR! YOU CARRY BOMB WITH YOU IS IT?’.

To which he hushed me, ‘You want me to die is it?!’.

That was the kind of fear, of such tiny fraction compared to those of today.

I could almost utilise every single term in my curse and swear dictionary, cos the whole episode is just too infuriating for anyone to bear.

At the same time, the grief that wraps along with fear and wrath would stir so much emotions that it would not spare any eye from moisture.

Reading the papers and watching the news become a painful chore.

And I read this, from here:

(An extraction from BBC’s website where they unearthed an Islamist website that lay claim to the bombings)

Absolute evil.

Abusing the name of God.

I hope those people behind this will rot in hell. Badly.

***

Dad picked me up from East Coast Park today and we made a short trip back to Malaysia.

It suddenly occured to me that for the past 3 times we had been travelling back from Malaysia were a wee bit untypical from the usual trips we made.

I am not sure if I should link all of these together, that would form a pretty cynical picture.

I remember some years ago, when I was out late at Yishun MRT, I was stopped by patrolling police cars for freaking 6 times in that 3 hours and had my identifications checked.

All I did was walking out of the station, walking along the pavement(pretty late at night), and stopping along the pavement to catch a glimpse of the shooting stars I saw slicing through the sky.

And having a Malaysian identity card wasn’t helping much.

The constable paced away, and radioed back to the headquarters for a more thorough check, compared to a brief check on my local peer.

Routine check, they offered assurance, without us pressing for any.

Pretty unusual, eh?

It was months later, when the reports divulged that Yishun MRT was an intended target of terrorists.

Is Singapore under threats again recently?

Perhaps, one of the targets, besides London?

Don’t quote me nor take my words for it, cos I do not want to be the one who brews fear in you.

The past 3 times when dad and I made our usual trips back to Malaysia over the past 2 weeks, we were greeted by an unsually tight security.

We were stopped for the routine car-check at Tuas checkpoint.

What was different is, the officers opened up my passenger door, and politely requested me to alight from the car.

Strange.

Once I stepped out of the car, the raided the car’s every single compartment, and even under the carpet of the car as if we are suspected drug traffickers or something.

Yes, I know, they do that sometimes.

But only randomly.

These couple of weeks, they did it with every single vehicle.

Such meticulous efforts were quite unusual, I thought.

I was standing right next to one officer earlier this week(before the London terror attacks), while 3 others searched Dad’s car, when he struck a conversation.

‘Erm, we are just doing our routine random check‘, he assured.

I didn’t ask. But I guess they already anticipated such conscientious searches would unsettle commuters, and were instructed to offer assurance.

He then went on to ask random questions to make small conversations.

And from my constant trips, I realised it wasn’t quite ‘random’ as they branded it to be.

Coindences, perhaps.

Or was there some tip-off we didn’t know off?

As for today, each passport’s details were jotted down, not at the booths, but where the cars stopped at the security check points.

Nonetheless, we should be grateful that such rigorous measures are perhaps what had created a safer environment for us to live in.

Yet, there is never room for complacency.

There can never be, either.

We learnt that from New York, and now, London. Two modernised countries of major influences.

Politics exist everywhere.

Take ourselves out of it, and view the world at a larger scale.

Isn’t such divide that brings about such brutal attacks?

Humbling lessons, we must learn.

We saw the world coming together after September 11.

We saw the world coming together after the tsunami on December 26.

The world will definitely once again come together after 7/7.

Or even, the SARS trauma that rocked Singapore couple of years ago.

Compassion, we have.

But, will this again be a short-spanned amber, like it has been?

For how long?

How many slaps does it take for us to finally wake up from our selfishness?

For good, that is.

Wheee.

How swift.

It has been a year since the big day when we had loads of fun.

And this is the 1st time in 3 years I don’t have fret over the tiniest details, drain myself with all those brainstorming, and declare bankruptcy at a tender age.

No panics for last minute preparations.

No last minute shopping.

No overexerting of braincells for the most innovative surprises.

No exasperating attempts to create the most romantic ambience.

No digging for the last cent in the bank for that ideal gift.

No exploding urge to spoil the surprise.

No hush hush plannings with the friends.

No major celebrations.

No this, no that.

Phew.

Yay! *Punch fists in the air*

Anyway, happy birthday, Philip.

May it be a blessed year ahead for ya.

Thanks, for all the pleasant memories we used to share.

May you slim down soon(YES, the man had gained 5 kg in one week, and is no longer as slim as how he was 2 weeks ago).

*Chuckles*

Phew.

It was quite a draining night.

With the evidence sprewn all over my face.

Patches of red rashes claimed authority, and I couldn’t stop scratching my forehead and cheeks, which are flaking, badly.

Woe is me.

I look like a pimplish teenager. Difference is, I am pimplish, and look nowhere near a teenager.

What an eventful night out.

From the violently stirred pasts that kept surfacing(no worries, there were pleasant ones, definitely).

The hypes from how we teased Tetanus about the way he sashays, and how this girl from the next table was trying to seduce him by constant bending forward, while squeezing a cleavage in between, or consistently grinding the poor chair.

Merry-making when you’re feeling most empty could be quite a demanding feat.

Let’s not go into that.

We are fully-clothed, please.

Inex, and I.

And here, my secondary school classmate, Erica.

Took some pictures with some of the others, but I have not sought permission to post them up as yet.

We left pretty early, cos we were simply not in the right mood to be partying the night away, and we left a very scarlet Tetanus to his harem.

***

Erica, Inex and I shared a cab cos we were staying in the west.

I awed myself with my ability to remember where Erica used to live.

We caught up a lot in the cab, with lotsa intimate details shared.

It was then, the talks got more oomphs in them that Inex suggested supper in the area as to expand the talks into something more in-depth.

No one touched food though as we alighted at the coffee-shop near my place.

I was pretty amazed with the inaccurate versions of rumours going around about me when I was in my late-teens, which Erica had heard when she was in junior college.

Words could kill, I understood, and still understand why.

I went on to hear 2 very charismatic ladies telling me about themselves, seeing parts of me in them.

They had came a long way.

And it is strange, in a nice way, to be looking at someone who is so familiar, yet you are knowing them all over again for the very first time.

I then invited them up to my room.

I made them waited for me outside my place, just so I could do some last minute cleaning up and housekeeping. It was hellava mess cos I hadn’t been home often enough to do some decent housekeeping.

And the 3 of us spent the night together.

Dishevelled hair, rashes, glasses, casually clad.

I contemplated on silencing the 2 babes as they had seen my worst.

The threesome was awesome, my dears.

Yummy.

I shall not illustrate how the old friend of mine squealed orgasmically excitedly as I talked about a certain cutie.

Suddenly, I am indignant that I am still boyfriendless, and worse still, dateless.

***

It was 5.30 in the morning when the 3 hungry beings, exhausted from the lengthy night, craved breakfast.

We walked to the coffeeshop we were at earlier on, for some crispy and tantalising pratas.

The pratas were nice, and we enjoyed much of the meal, as we continued topics we had earlier on.

It was then, the breakkie turned into a hilarious, albeit traumatising event.

I ordered ice-horlicks.

The coffeeshop boy delivered my drink.

Surprise, surprise. He refused to take my money, saying that someone else had picked the tab already.

The 3 of us turned, and could see a couple of ah-bengs, inclusive of the one who delivered the drink.

We continued eating and drinking, pretending nothing had happened.

I bowed my head and was eager to finish my food.

Next thing I knew, Erica who had them in her view told us that some golden-haired basket had sneakily took a shot of me with his handphone.

I kept my head turned away, so I won’t get snapped.

Next thing I know, the indian stall-helper came to our table, and slipped a piece of paper onto it.

‘Call me pls
9367 XXXX
Eric’

We all choked on our pratas and died.

Erm, nearly, that is.

We didn’t touch that piece of paper, and acted nonchalance.

We were tempted to take it. Only for 4-D, Toto, and toilet-scribbling purposes.

We decided we are kind girls and not gamblers, and we left it untouched.

Inex was then thirsty and wanted Soya bean milk.

The rude ones called out ‘Self service’ and justified that it was the policy after 3am.

Guys suck, to the core.

I don’t like ah-bengs.

I must have looked like a handicapped or something for them to serve.

The scrutiny then built up and they lingered around us, like phantoms.

We grew increasingly uncomfortably, and scrambled off, in fear, as the day broke.

It had never happened to me even though I had stayed here for the past 10 years.

Tsk tsk.

Ah well, it was great entertainment, nonetheless.

It has been an amazingly interesting Friday.

Such bittersweet nostalgia that had quicken its pace and caught up with me.

And thereafter, I plunged further into my deep thoughts, reminscing the events that had taken place in the past decades.

Did I not say how I did a little catching up with 3 primary school classmates of mine over MSN? Wenwei, Yaolong and Gaorong.

What followed up was a thought-provoking through-the-night webcam-enhanced chat with Wenwei till 7.30 in the morning.

We have yet to see each other since I last made a trip to Shrewsbury to visit him and Yaolong 7 years ago, when I was still residing near London.

Nothing much changed, except that he had gained more weight, and I repeated the lose-weight-gain-weight-lose-weight-again-gain-weight-again routine for X times in the past years.

We had kept in constant contact but it was the most fulfilling conversation we had had so far that morning. I got a great kick out of it.

It once again, triggered my conflicting urge to hit back the books again.

He threw some questions to me that caught me off-guard, and I amazed myself that I had some ready answers in hand.

He, the ever-encouraging friend, assured me that if it was an entrance interview, I would have been offered a place.

The core question is still, why, and not what.

Lord, guide me, please.

Sometimes, I know the exact reasons why I adore old pals.

***

It was late noon, and I had wanted to (finally) make a trip down to try the chicken rice at Philip’s stall.

A message came in from Bubblemunche Hisreason that he was gonna meet a couple of his ex-colleagues for dinner that evening.

Many moons ago, through some freaky coincidences, I realised one of my secondary school classmates whom I had lost contact with, James, is actually his ex-colleague.

Hence, Hisreason messaged me cos he was meeting my ex-classmate for dinner, and if I wanna crash it to surprise him.

I did.

I shall not mention how I had secretly planned to bring them down to Philip’s stall.

We waited for the very-late ex-classmate of mine, and he strolled in to meet Hisreason, Mr-I-forgot-what-his-name, and me.

He was then introduced to me, and he shook hands with me without much expressions.

As the 2 of them are ‘westerners’, dinner was then settled at Jurong Point, so it would be to their convenience to head home.

We sat down at Billy Bombers’ and the other 2 guys tried to sound him out by asking, ‘I was from XXX secondary school, what school were you from huh?‘

He laughed and replied River Valley.

And the 2 very lousy actors beat around the bush before asking me what school I was from. I giggled cos I knew James was just playing along, yet I still went on to reply I was from River Valley too.

The very lame Mr Hisreason(who was in his uniform again! Woohoo!) then went on to say something along the line, ‘Oh! So coincidental! You two from same school? So which year you graduate huh? Oh same batch?! What class were you from then ah?‘

*Roll eyes*

Apparently, Mr James didn’t quite recognise me in the beginning though he thought I looked rather familiar, and when Hisreason had introduced me to him, my name gave it away and he confirmed it was me.

I hadn’t seen him since we graduated from River Valley some 8 years ago.

Wow.

It was great catching up with him, recollecting how we used to be project mates and how we would copy homework from others.

And how he was the quiet one, who looks gentlemanly with neat and precised handwriting, whilst I was the total opposite of him.

Those were the days.

It was nice, though I wouldn’t say the same about those days in River Valley.

***

The catch-up session dragged on for a while cos Hisreason and I were yakking away, and before I knew it, I was late for cell group last night.

It was supposed to be at 8.30pm, in church.

I disciplined myself from the over-reliance on cabs, and took the train instead.

I alighted at Dhoby Ghaut, and took that familiar route, once again.

The route that reminded me of lotsa tears, hurt, and past.

I walked past the park where I once sat, to watch the buzzing crowd. It was a dark, deserted area at that time of the night, and the buzzing weekend crowd was just feets away it.

I remember this particular day in August last year, where I sat alone on the bench, crying an ocean in such ironic contrast.

The scent and taste from my Dior lipgloss completed the mental picture of the past.

I saw an image of a girl, cuddling her teddy bear, feeling lost, in the midst of the glittery streetlights, after the youth service on a Saturday.

The familiar feelings overwhelmed me again. It wasn’t that I was still holding on to the past, but it was just something, that brought back a familiar feeling.

Like how you could smell a scent, and be reminded of someone you dated.

I saw and sniffed something, that reminded me of my bleakest days.

The day when I wrote this:

好冷。 不是心理作祟。
這一夜﹐就是這樣的。
空氣﹐冷冰冰的。
深深抽了一口。
心跟著寒了﹐ 更冷。
其實﹐心﹐也從來沒暖過。

那股冷流﹐好熟悉。
似乎勾起了些什麼。
嗯﹐沒錯。
他﹐也是冷冰冰的。

而我﹐
遍體鱗傷走在那一條陰暗的街。
一個人。
熙熙攘攘的人群﹐與我﹐形成了強烈的對比。
也不是另一個過客罷了。
而我﹐這一夜﹐
也只屬于那孤寂的街。

很傷。
很痛。
已經體無完膚。

那一夜﹐璀燦的煙火﹐好美。
距離他﹐好近。
感覺上﹐太遠。
望著同樣的一幕﹐
想的﹐一樣嗎﹖
煙火﹐好美。
很遺憾﹐太短暫。
留下的﹐也只是瀰漫在夜空中的過眼雲煙。

結束了﹐很遺憾。太短暫。
沒有所謂的長廂廝守。
童話﹐從未戰勝過現實。
我們﹐也敵不過這一戰。

或許﹐永恆不會如此淒美。

心已如直水。
至少﹐我以為是這樣。
心底的漣漪否定了一切。

至少﹐那一段﹐就象煙火一樣﹐
轟轟烈烈的。
這一片陰霾﹐會過去的﹐不是嗎﹖

但原來﹐我仍期盼童話的延續

Such… nostalgia.

I stirred slightly, and I walked on.

Out of the darkness, back onto the path, leading to the church.

***

It was in church when a phone call came in.

Unfamiliar number.

I called back the number and an unfamiliar voice picked up.

He said it was Junhong.

Ah. I said.

He was my NPCC squadmates for 4 years back in secondary school, and was keen on organising a meetup cos it had been a year since we had a gathering.

And it was the first time I heard of him since a year ago.

How. Nostalgic.

Another chapter of secondary school’s memories caught up with me.

***

Saw Philip, and I was in awe that he had gained back whatever he had lost 2 weeks ago!

Gosh! Now I don’t feel so bad, do I?

Muahahaha.

What was said at cell group last night was similar to what Wenwei had asked me.

To recognise what I am good at.

Seriously, I would say nothing, cos I seriously do not know, or think I am good at ANYTHING.

I tried looking and asking for a sign for my next step.

Studies, or not?

No conclusive answers.

Many church mates were making small talks with me, and the faces reminded me of the church camp that brought back such gushing floods of painful memories.

Flashback after flashback.

Prickish, prickish.

Ironically, the man who caused such sorrow back then had monopolised most of the past 3 years of my life wasn’t one of those that brought back those incessant flashbacks.

I shook his hand to wish him happy birthday in advance, before we both left the building together.

Heading towards different directions.

***

I strolled down Orchard Road, busking in the hullabaloo from the activities from all over, dreamily indulging in the silence of my own world.

Call me a sadist, I actually enjoy such magical moments of extremes.

I slow-motioned myself as I pierced through the human traffic, looking for traces of emptiness on those worn out faces on the streets.

The smiles and shovings from the group of young girls at the bus stand. I wonder which girl was the target of merciless teasings from her peers about her crush.

The couple at a corner raising their voices at each other as one accusing the other of putting on a glum look throughout the evening, and the other one raised the voice further in defense.

I drew back into my own solitude as I walked on.

Towards Rouge, where I was supposed to meet the rest for the night.

Somehow, I wasn’t that keen.

I was too comfortable in my hermit shell.

Really wasn’t up to it to put on smiles as if I am enjoying everyone and everything.

***

I walked past Acid Bar, which inevitably brought back memories of my first and only trip there with a primary school ex-classmate.

Oh, those haunting memories just wouldn’t stop sneaking attacks at me, eh?

It was a hilarious first-time, cos I was in shorts, soaked in residues from a sweat-fest, trackshoes clad, and a mini-haversack on my back after a trip to Ubin.

That trip, I was pretty keen on checking out Rouge, but deemed my outfit too much of a laughing-stock.

Thus, I didn’t.

He was a nice friend.

***

Met people I have nevet met before.

I didn’t expect that huge a crowd.

Inex, Elayne, Intimate Stranger, and a brief glimpse of LMD.

Plus the newly-acquainted Wallflower, who witnessed my dance-on-table-yet-did-a-humpty-dumpty. Nice tube dress, baby.

Of course, there were the usual Gavin, Vincent, FF and Tetanus.

And there was another one.

An uniquely special one.

I was told my Inex she, too, is a blogger.

The Professional, which, quite ashamedly, I have not read before.

As we exchanged handshakes, she introduced herself as Erica.

My instinct kicked off, and asked, ‘Do you happen to be XXXXX?‘

That, being her Chinese name.

‘Yes I am, and I thought you wouldn’t recognise me. In fact, I am quite disappointed you recognise did.‘

Oops. Then should I be disappointed she recognised me, too?

You guys won’t believe how small the world is.

*GASP GASP GASP*

Erica, was my secondary 1 and 2 classmate. X-times project mates, and we hanged out quite a bit back then.

I still remember a lot of things about her, and she did have a drastic change since we knew each other 11 years ago.

An extensive catching up, the night was meant to be.

Did I mention something about a walk down memory lane?

It must have been a marathon or some sort.

How draining it must have been.

No wonder I am burnt out by the exhaustion.

Brilliant drama.

I had picked up so much pebbles on this lane.

Fascinating.

Monday and Tuesday were pretty mundane as I enjoyed days of solitude, away from people, and much forms of communication.

Except for that pretty fruitful and insightful phone call with Mr Pooh Bear(who was hugging his pooh bear while speaking to me) on late Tuesday night, which lasted till 8 plus in the morning.

Life isn’t easy for everyone at this moment, I guess.

Mr Pooh Bear(no, he is not a juvenile, but a male in his thirties) told me earlier today that FF was looking fervently for me after not hearing for me for a couple of days, and not responding to her SMSes.

And a subsequent message that came into my phone had finally lured me out of hiding on a Wednesday.

‘I miss you darling. Zee 10 tonight, 8pm.’

No doubt the ‘miss you’ part was endearing, but the real catch was, Carl’s Jr is right opposite Zee 10, which is at Millenia Walk, and it was a huge temptation I couldn’t resist.

A phone call was placed swiftly to the sweetie, and after confirming that there would only be her and Tetanus, and not too much a crowd, I agreed to meet them for the evening for Carl’s Jr.

Yes, tempt me with Carl’s Jr, and I might just compromise.

Was on the train when she messaged me to ask which station I was at.

She was in the vicinity and had asked me to alight from the train so she could give me a lift on the cab since it was along the way.

We headed straight for Carl’s Jr and here are our glorious burgers:

Alas, we were too darn hungry and the burgers did not survive fast enough for the pictures to be taken.

Each and every bit was devoured mercilessly, in record timings.

Adjourned to Zee 10, where the plush settings mellowed us into a complacent, cosy mood.

And for the first time, I took on a pint of Hoegaarden, ambitiously wanting to break my spanking new record which was just set days ago.

Executives sprewn all over the place, atrociously sub-standard band playing, with us etched in the extreme corner of Zee 10.

We were one of the 2 tables of the extremely casual.

It was a nice setting. The crowd was evenly spreaded, not intrusive.

It was as if we were in a world of our own.

Before long, I was told Gavin and Wallflower would be joining us as well.

I browsed the entire room, registering each and every stranger’s face as they chilled out after a presumably hard day of work, trying to read if any of them feels as empty as me in a place of merry-making and intermittent hearty laughs.

I saw an old pal sitting near the window panel, and brief greetings were exchanged.

Coincidentally, he is from the credit department where I had went for an interview some months ago at Citibank.

As the evening progressed, and more Hoegaardon downed, I was getting my usual giggle fits, and was growing slightly bored.

I turned to tell the sweet FF so, and she offered me a lousy deal, ‘I’ll give you 20 bucks to dance on the table.’

Yes, the table we were sitting at.

What?

That’s too little, up the stake, I joked in jest.

Before long, the Tetanus, FF and Gavin were digging loose change, ringgits, cash, and eventually, an Ezlink card was thrown in to further entice me.

I have my dignity, you know.

What do you guys think I am, huh?!

S$42 + S$8 coins
RM$62.10(yes, a 10cent coin too)
EzLink card with 23 bucks of value
And no, the handphone in the picture is not part of the temptation, sadly.

Those silly mules.

How could they expect me to compromise my values and principles just for such mere material stuffs?

I retract what I said.

I shall push the blame to the evil Hoegaarden, which wasn’t quite finished by me at the end of the night, but good enough to surpass the half pint I had last Thursday.

*Guilt-ridden* Money could buy me…. to dance on the executive-packed bar, on the table we were sitting around.

I shall bow my head in shame right now.

But, for that mere seconds of embarrassment up there, I earn ‘more than a hooker does’ in Gavin’s words, but doing much less work.

I blocked out any thoughts of the crowd, and tried to convince myself no one would actually turn to look at us.

Fat hope.

I heard the next table cheering.

The finale of the night gotta be when I got myself off the table, and stepped onto the cushioned bench before earthing my feet to ground zero.

My feet got caught between two separate benches, and the gap opened up, swallowed me up in the process.

And yes, I fell and my bum hit the ground, hard.

I was sitting on the ground, laughing at the utter goofiness, and hoping I could just get away by acting cool as Tetanus helped me up(the mad lass was too busy laughing to even realise I had crashed onto the ground).

From the way I giggled then, I could never appear too cool though.

Bleah.

It was then Tetanus revealing that his beloved new MP3player was missing.

*Gasp in horror*

Before long, we found it lying on the cold, hard floor, with a newly flawed corner.

Apparently, the mega impact from the falling large lump of lard had brought along the gadget….

Terribly, awfully sorry, pal.

Shortly after, dad was there to pick me up to go Malaysia, and I had to leave the 4 of them, whom I had just warmed up to with the help of beer and adrenalin(and a mighty dose of embarrassment).

I was knocked out throughout the car ride back, not surprising with my incredible intolerance for alcohol.

So, drinks on me next time yuh?

And, may I proudly present my new screensaver on my phone.

I thought we look like cool models endorsing Mp3players, but of cos, the warped minds would think otherwise.

So lovely.

Woo, my curls and her boobies look pretty good from here, don’t they?

***

Today is yet another quiet day.

Had wanted to stay home, feeling great reluctance to leave my comfort zone.

Raf had wanted to meet me, as the overworked babe was desperately in need of a chill-out session.

So we thought, just a private drinks and dance for the night at 10.15pm was cool.

Was all dressed up, makeup all piled up and about to leave home at 9.30pm when she messaged to cancel our date cos she had lotsa work to rush.

It wasn’t too bad an arrangement cos the London terrorism attacks was mood-dampening ‘nough, and I would be too much a recluse to be an entertaining companion for the evening.

Since I didn’t want the makeup to go to waste, I ended up photographing myself.

Muahaha.

How narcissistic can I be, you ask?

Very, I tell you.

***

Vamptress and I agreed that we would both lose weight in the next 2 weeks.

We will.

21st July.

*Inhale*

I must.

A joke jog, perhaps?

***

The blasts still scare me.

Glad to know that my London peers are all well and sound.

It is queer with 4 windows open, and 3 of them are guys from my primary school.

Wenwei is back from *cough cough* UCL, and is a soon-to-be doctor.

It was indeed a trip down memory lane tonight.

Very much.

How impactful, is today.

The world is shaken, once again.

Stay well, peepz.

Yes, just a note.

Have to write this. Say I back my words or whatever, but this is important. To me, at least.

I got a series of chills today.

I was reminded why I detest watching news so much.

Anyway, a short one.

Please, please, keep London in your prayers.

For the people, the victims, the victims’ families, the authorities.

Entire Tube system is shut down, with possible fatalities.

I could feel the fear in me as the goosebumps popped endlessly. I litted the lights in my room cos I couldn’t stand the suffocating silence, and the darkness that engulfed me.

Can you imagine how the chaos would be over there?

The fear, the abhorrence, the horror, the confusion.

Who would have expected all these? In a country of such massive influence.

And places of such familiarity to me.

Oh yes, it happened to America, but no one would ever think it would happen in such proximity.

What the hell is going on?

Yes, I am worried.

My friends are over there.

Barbaric. I can’t say this enough.

Giving some room to myself doesn’t necessarily mean that I am depriving myself the rights to write.

I just needed a break from communications, and make a hermit out of myself.

*Breathe in*

The air is fresher this way, baby.

To detach myself from reality, for a while.

And no, I didn’t stop writing, cos I know I won’t, unless I don’t feel like writing.

I just brought my writings elsewhere, for a more private and exclusive group of audiences, where there’s no judgments(I hope), no miscommunications(I hope), no scrutiny, no pressure, no comments left.

So wheeeee.. I am still blogging, here. Away from prying eyes.

Attention-seeking? Aww, let me teach you a thing or two about marketing, darling.

The last thing to do when you’re plugged, is to pull the plug to the lights, and let this space plunge into pitch-black darkness.

The right way is to whore more pictures, write more atrocious shit to rouse interest.

Not drive people away when there is more for you to bank on to generate publicity, ya know? *wink*

Then again, do you know me? Is there a need to know me? Think about it myself.

As for my blog getting a tad too boring with its sappy stuff for your liking, cos the world is already sad enough, and non-chirpy stuffs anger you…

Hmm, all I can say is, everyone has their own issues, and I don’t have to print mine for you to see.

If there’s elsewhere for you to escape from my reality, then don’t bore yourself here, really.

Did I rip your insecurities out of the closet?

Sadly, my blog here is not about entertainment. Not entirely.

I do try to make it less boring a read sometimes(come on, there will always be an element of entertaining needs), so that I wouldn’t bore myself to death if I read back my own writes in the future, but it doesn’t necessary mean you HAVE to read it.

I am sorry if it pisses the shit out of you with my drag-your-mood-down entries. I can’t keep up with your positive outlook in life, and I don’t intend to force myself to.

I know there are blogs out there which don’t suit my taste, and I simply skip them.

Simple as that.

I learnt one thing. No matter how peaceful I am with my explanations I have now(thus, seeing no point to respond to whoever or whatever that left messages for me during my vacation from blogosphere), if the chemistry is not there with whoever who is reading, however logical your stand is, it will never please them, nor change their views.

I believe in ‘affinity’ and ‘chemistry’.

Am I an attention-seeker? Hell yeah. But not exactly the kind of ‘attention’ you think it is.

I still am enjoying my peace, my solitude.

No feathers ruffled.

I am such. I retracted into a world of my own, cutting communications when I need a breather.

Not only on this blog, but other means, too.

Just like how I could be a hyper bunny(woo, not THAT way) one moment, and a complete recluse the next.

I would be pestering friends to entertain me one moment, and totally avoid them the next.

Hence, who knows, when I am ready, I might just get myself out of the shell I am hiding, and face the negative stuffs that get us down ever so often.

I feel pretty bad towards some concerned pals who had been trying to get me offline.

If you didn’t get me, I’m sorry. Just wasn’t having that want within me to talk, or be asked of questions I didn’t want to answer.

If I didn’t sound to pleasant or friendly over the phone if you somehow managed to get me, I’m sorry, too. Just felt a tad intruded, somehow.

If I am not replying to your messages, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how else to react.

Other than that, blogging goes on.

In my private world, that is.

*BEAMS*

Woo. This is fun. Like dancing my silly dance in my own room, without my neighbours peeking in.

*Hop Hop* *Jump jump* *Skip skip*