Pictorial. Fun.




















































oh yes. fun and happy.

I set about thinking about the times that I was truly happy.

I looked through numerous photos on the archive that I have inevitably built up over the years.

I have actually meant to do my post entirely with pictures. However, blogger doesnt seem to want to cooperate at this point. Thus I suppose I will try again tomorrow and see if the technology decides to work with me.

So there I was sitting infront of my screen, looking through photos that bookmarked events through happy times. In which I was truly care-free, honest and at peace. There seem to be a recurring theme among the photos.

Events like road trips, dinners, walks and general tom foolery in yesteryears bought more than a smile to my face.

It almost seems that the older I grow, the less happy times I seem to have. Invariably, this is abit depressing of cos. However, I believe there are perfectly valid reasons as to the lack of carefree joy. 

While people always talk about their time in secondary school as the best time ever in their lives, I find myself firmly entrenched in memories of polytechnic. Where the people I met mashed with the circumstances in which I met them have spawned a special relationship that I sometimes am at a loss of words for.

Of cos, people move on and so have I. I have of cos made new friends, very good friends in times after I left my tertiary education. 

I reckon it is all bubbling along at a fine pace in where I meet people who share the same ethos and ideas of camaraderie, fraternity and loyalty.

Obviously, I seriously hope for much treasured companionship to follow. But with that being said, I am pretty well off in this department at this juncture.

I suppose its just a big shame that people whom I cherish are so physically far away.

But such is life and what can we do except to soldier on without pause.

While I look at past events of laughter, fun and meaningful conversations, I also keenly remind myself that while these people have been a pillar of support, some of the people whom I never have imagined speaking too are also lending their support in their own little ways.

The lack of meaningful conversation (strictly in my own opinion) here forces me to resort to other means such as MSN. While I loathe MSN with a passion when I feel the need to hear an human voice, I understand its uses.

I suppose, there is nothing more assuring when someone messages you "heh whats up" when you are at the computer. In the very least, you know that someone is thinking of you in that instance and affording you the attention that in our very very busy life, is a luxurious commodity.

I know I am going off a tangent, I find it hard to put down in words the thoughts that are sort of wavering around in my mind. But I try, like I do, I always try.

and why am I still up. cause i still hear shrieking. and the break of dawn is already peering thru my curtains. 

I shall take my last cigarette for the night and head off to bed. 

To my loves, much love.

I was actually asleep.

Quite fitfully, but asleep non the less.

and now, I am awake.

it could be the bed, it could be the weather, it could be the myriad of intoxicants in my head.

but its not.

Nutter's medical Diary.

its more of a children-nitis idiotilities problem. its a very serious illness found in certain specimens of the human species.

It usually shows up as a childhood ailment and the patient would usually outgrow it right after the completion of puberty.

However, not all will grow out of this illness and such symptoms found persistent in grown adults are now classified and specified as stupidis adultilities.

Such illness are classified as highly dangerous and sadly, contagious. However, the unique trait of this illness it its contagious nature is that it affects only cross gender subjects. Thats to say, a female can only affect a male and a male can only affect a female.

This illness oddly does not affect homosexual couples.

- end -

regards

Dr. Nutter

Who I Want to Meet:
Someone you can never be or claim to be.

Macintosh Users

Pretty Girls and Clever Boys.
I like my girls to be artistic.
for them to be able to draw, paint and take a mean photograph.
for them to be stylish.
to be avant garde.
to be different.
to have an attitude.
to be able to debate, think critically.
to listen to radiohead instead of being a pop head.
Rocket Queen.

Does he...

know about the world?

about the pain that unrequited love brings?

the difference between a wild bender and quite comfort?

about contentment?

about joy, peace and satisfaction?

about the delicate taste of powered sugar on an hard drink?

about writing?

love for the written word?

eloquence?

wit?

camaraderie , fraternity?

bravery?

honesty?

intelligence?

sensitivity?

the bitter taste of espresso?

the alluring meaning of companionship?

the obnoxious and selfish feeling which is love?

the arrogance that is self confidence?

the intoxicating blend of lust, attraction and love?

the eyes behind the shades that hide the haunting?

sleeplessness?

frustration?

fear?

does he know?

No he doesnt.

He has no clue.

Blood, sex, gore and violence.

Christ.

I hate you.

I hate you so much.

I feel so empty. It felt so empty. It was so empty.

Oh fuck you.

but to be fair, on hindsight, fuck me too.

I am destructive

All my assignments have been done, submitted and accounted for.

And because I am bored, I suddenly have the time for nefarious thoughts, evil schemes and confused brooding.

I furrow my brows when I don't have much to think about. 

I grind my teeth when I close my eyes.

I pull my blanket tighter around myself then I have too.

I smoke more than I need too.

I drink when I don't have too.

Yes, I have been snogging the vodka bottle when no one is looking. and the beer. and the this and the that.

I want to go home. 3 more weeks and I am literally turning my brain into mush.

I want to speak to shawn, luwin, muizz, fn, kenny, susan, linn, goldie, eileen, mini and so much more.

Speak as in talk to a real human being. I hate msn. I hate non eye contact.

I want to laugh over dinner. I want to tear over smokes. I want to talk over rubbish oil laden food served up by greasy indian men. I want comfort. I want honesty. I want spontaneous, heartfelt words. I want to laugh till I fucking cry.

I want familiarity. I want companionship. The dirty, raucous, rowdy and familiar kind that I miss so much.

For a moment, I thought I found companionship.  I was proved wrong. But thats an admission on my part, no fault of the other.  Sitting here with a smoke and a drink, I realised what it was, was a mistake. I feel guilty as hell. I substituted something with another. I thought it would be better. I thought it would unlock the hell. and it did. like a fire cracker squibbing out in the rain. 

I took a leap of faith. I landed on a hard concrete slab. The side walk of life. My skull and brains, a smashed up heap of mess, like blood on the floor of an abattoir. 

Here is a song, it reminds me while we were young. A track on repeat, a re-harsh of my greatest fuck ups.

She didnt stir me like how she did.

I find myself looking a mess. The mess on the floor. Sloppy, wet, slippery and gory.

Blood, violence, sex and gore.

I speak to myself alot. 

I seem to be finding solace and conversation with myself. I drive myself barking mad talking to myself. I frustrate myself by not being able to stop comparing. I beat myself into a level so low, that I can hardly believe the things that I am doing.

I find so much phony-ness around me. I throw my I love you's without meaning them. I throw my attention and caring like its worth something when it actually is worth god pillock all.

I find myself pointing out the hypocrites who are all around me. I find myself looking at these people, sitting on their fucking high pony judging me, sneaking behind my back, talking in hushed tones. But fuck you. Fuck them so bad. They are little. So little. If a sentient being took them away this instant, I would not shed a fucking tear.

Fuck you and all your constant gossiping. Fuck you and all your wanting to know about dirt. Fuck you cant you stop shoving your nose into another person's life because you are fucking unwelcome.

and suddenly, very abruptly I realised, all that I have been pointing out, has had been obvious in me. 

While they are hypocrites, I am the one who is fucked up.

Why cant i get with the program? Why cant I be like them? Why cant I be scum like them? WOULDNT IT MAKE THINGS EASIER FOR MYSELF?

I talk about things that I have no interest in. I pretend to be what I am not. I find myself lying constantly to keep up with appearances.

God, I am fucking messed up.

Things that didnt matter in the past, like winning, now seem to take on a whole new level. A bad game at poker means I'm sully for the rest of the night. It is not even the money. i dont even know what it is. But I feel it at the root of my mind. Pushing me. Daring me. Forcing me. 

I screamed at a friend at go-karting. I wanted to bash his face in.  I wanted to cut his head off. I wanted to shoot him with a gun. and shoot him again. I wanted to stomp his head onto the track. I wanted to reach in and pull all his guts out. i wanted to stab him with a spoon. All because he nudged my kart.

I won. I beat 7 other guys. To step up there and say, today, among them , I am the best. I was the fastest, the best. 

I stood there and all I saw was faces that I didnt recognise. Laughs that I didnt use to hear.

The thrill , satisfaction, non existent. All that seem to be there, was emptiness, cold, still and silent. I didnt know what I was doing there.

That day, it wasnt fun that I felt. It was a need. 

The marshall said that I seemed more intent on killing myself then to win. 

I won, but I didnt manage to kill myself.

I chased an invisible and invincible opponent like my life depended on it. I breath heavily into my helmet, my breath condensing on the visor. I hardly notice the tinted glass of my aviators infront of me. All I hear in my ears are the blood rushing in my head, my veins. All I feel is the rumble of the road beneath me. I was intent on turning my teeth into ivory dust. I let out a blood curling scream at the top of my lungs that no one heard above the roar of the engines and the noise of the wind.

I wanted blood.

I am not competitive. I am clinically insane.

This 2 months, it feels like having really bad sex with a lady whom I hate. I hate her so much, but I need her. Its my primal need that stops me from stopping.

Why do I beat myself up so much?

Why do I seem abusive?

On the outside. I smile. I sneer. I mock.

on the inside, I am just burnt. 

I dont know why I am like that.

I try to look after myself. 

I am not even tired nowadays.

I get enough sleep, I eat enough.

It is odd. In feeling so well, I have never felt this bad.

I feel so messed up I cant even laugh at myself like I used too.

I feel like crying. So bad. 

Strong men cry, stronger men weep.

But at this point of time, I'm quite sure I'm not the stronger man, nor do I even think I am the strong one.

I feel so very fustrated and fucked.

If I'm to fall
Would you be there to applaud?


hard, uncompromising.

Thats what I told lish today.



Well its a half truth, the fact of the matter is that sometimes, I dont compromise, I just give in, I just give it all.


and all, is perhaps just more than you can take.



If I'm to fall
Would you be there to applaud?
Or would you hide behind them all?
'Cause if I have to go,
In my heart you'll grow
And that's where you belong...

note to self:

fuck everything else. save for your new dslr. no more gadgets, no more crap. save your money.

After the grandprix

every tom , dick and harry now reckons that they are an expert.





well fuck you tom, dick and harry.

fuck off.

you aint in the know or nor are you glamourise just cause you have attended the race.

and you know what?

fuck you again!

you dont know one end of the flappy paddle gear box from the other.

FUCK YOU!

Am I a smaller person for it?

Sometimes I wonder, if I am backsliding into a lesser person.
Sometimes I wonder, if I did the right thing.

I am not the sort to avoid problems, preferring to get them out into the open as early as I can.

But somehow, I've been putting on an avoidance cap. It irks me.

Am I a littler person because of the choice I made.

I should have.
I would have.

But I didnt.

I suppose I was just being a gigantic prick. Or maybe what little ego I had, came out and ruled the day.
I cant exactly remember what I did that day, I just remembered keenly what i didnt do.

At this point, it doesnt seem to make much sense.

its been about 2 months since that day in which i chose to avoid instead of confront.
and till now, every other day goes by with me asking myself, "you douche bag, you should have."

am I a smaller person not to reciprocate the grace that has comed my way? Even if the source was suitably undesirable?

It wasnt something I wanted, infact, it was something that i absolutely wished didnt happen.



It used to be simple. I just plain denied existence. plain denied history.

i did that because it worked. It actually worked really well. I was happier. I was oblivious. Phony, yes. but I was loving it.


But like I said, it gnaws at me really often. My transgressions.

I should be better than this. I should be a better person. I should have showed more grace. I should have been more generous. I should have been less selfish. I should have put down my grudges, my misforgivings and my doubts.


As truly, nothing defines a person more than the acts that he undertakes.


Maybe you all thought I have walked away.
I thought I did.

But I didn't.
It's not doing me any good, but it's not doing me any harm.

Grace, for grace I shall stay...
Numbed, yes.

But for grace, I shall stay.

There is a starman, living in the sky, he thinks he know us and that he will blow our minds.





I suppose sub conciously, I have not been blogging on purpose.

With msn wonky the past couple of hours, I finally got down to writing something.

But its now almost 6 in the morning and I have been sitting here infront of my screen since 5.

I have smoked a couple of smokes, chugged down a can of pepsi and am now on a glass of ligonsaft from ikea.

usually, with such mind probing substances, I would be bursting at the seams with thoughts to pen down.

But not tonight.

Everything I feel like putting down, just doesnt seem suitable for consumption. Its odd.


you know what, I'd just end here.

and oh, i got a magazine/ website/ blog writing gig that pays a few dollars.
lets hope it works out.

I dont know your face no more.

or feel the touch, that I adored.

We might as well be strangers in another time.

We might as well be living in a different world.

We might as well.

We might as well be strangers now.

I dont know your thoughts these days.

We are strangers in an empty space.

I dont understand your heart.

Its easier, to be apart.

We might as well be strangers.

For all I know, all of you now.

But still, if you murmur, sigh, point or just ask.

and if no one is beside when your soul embarks, I will follow you into the dark.

Hello world.

i must apologise for the long-ish sojourn.

The past 4 weeks have been pretty hectic.

The last week of vacation back home always is.

The first few weeks of uni are always tough.

Add to the equation of me falling pretty ill, it has been a tough couple of weeks.

This new semester bought about some changes. Mostly good. The old house mates are gone and ken is now my new house mate. We are getting another new fellow to share our place and lets hope that all goes well.

Having ken over here, has sort of destroyed the semblance of routine which I use to have. I am not saying that its a bad thing, I am just saying that its a different thing.

I have had to get used to having more people around me all the time. Nowadays, there is hardly a day where I can get through with little or no conversation like in the past when I lived alone or when I lived with house mates whom I barely acknowledged.

Most of the time, I dont mind the extra company. Ken and his various friends are pretty interesting and I dont mind hanging out with them.

But sometimes I find myself hankering after the quiet peaceful times that I used to have. I find myself barely having the time to read a good book, barely the opportunity to sit down, sniff the coffee and look at the seconds on my watch tick by like I used to.

I am not saying that I am not grateful for company, but with the huge amount of school work that is currently occupying my time, add to the huge number of social activities that I am expected to take part in, it has been difficult for me to find some solitude.

If I am not studying, I am out having fun. If I am not doing those things, I am just dog tired that I need to rest.

I like having fun. I like having a busy life style, but perhaps from the start, I should have known that I am, perhaps different from most.

I need alot of down time. I need alot of solitude and what I really need is alot of reflection for focus, peace and contentment.

At this point of time, I must make it abundantly clear that the company that I find myself in at current times seem to be a whole lot of fun.

The talk is cheerful and mostly engaging. But like most interpersonal relationships that I really cherish, the element of "quiet comfort" seem to be lacking.

While no fault of anyone or anything, I realise that its something that is innate and really, not something that can be nurtured or cultivated.

In this aspect, I find myself constantly frustrated with the inane need to keep up with appearances and social niceties.

Maybe its this company, that is digging a chasm in my head. I dont blame this new company, but this company keenly reminds me of how much I really miss my friends.

If I didnt have to talk all the time, i wouldnt be reminded of the talks we have had.

If i didnt have to laugh all the time, I wouldnt be reminded of all the jokes we share.

I find myself telling the new company about the gags and shit that happened with people that they dont know at all.

I find myself going ,laughing harder than ever, at things that have transpired for such a long time. But yet, the new experiences and people that I seem to be meeting, have just left a "meh" impression on me.

Today, I woke up on the wrong side of bed.

The house was empty.

I sat in the balcony smoking a quiet cigarette.

and then it hit me, at that point of time, I felt so homesick.

I miss the humid and hot weather, I miss the people and I miss my family.

I miss my quiet comforts.

On days like these, I seriously really wonder, how much mental gymnastics I must endure before all that is tough is gonna transpire.

An update.

I am still home on holiday.

Flying back to brisbane on the 27th.

Results for school are decent.

So yes.

I am still alive. But abit confused. exactly confused with what, that part I'm still confused about.

Qian. Out.

I am a paintball god.

They cant see me.

They cant hit me.

I am a paintball god.

CLICK HERE FOR GREATNESS

Yes. Size matters.
and if you think it didnt matter, you are just delusional.
but sometimes, too big makes you look many many stupids.

Just like this.

Been on repeat. repeat. repeat.

Brett Dennen's fantastically well written song.

Aint't No Reason

There ain't no reason things are this way
It's how they always been and they intend to stay
I can't explain why we live this way, we do it everyday


Preachers on the podium speaking of saints
Prophets on the sidewalk begging for change
Old ladies laughing from the fire escape, cursing my name
I got a basket full of lemons and they all taste the same
A window and a pigeon with a broken wing
You can spend your whole life working for something,
Just to have it taken away

People walk around pushing back their debts
Wearing pay checks like necklaces and bracelets
Talking 'bout nothing, not thinking 'bout death
Every little heartbeat, every little breath

People walk a tight rope
On a razor's edge
Carrying their hurt and hatred and weapons
It could be a bomb or a bullet or a pen
Or a thought or a word or a sentence

There ain't no reason
Things are this way
It's how they've always been and they intend to stay
I don't know why I say the things that I say
But I say them anyway
But love will come set me free
Love will come set me free, I do believe
Love will come set me free, I know it will
Love will come set me free, yes

Prison walls still standing tall
Some things never change at all
Keep on building prisons, gonna fill them all
Keep on building bombs, gonna drop them all
Working your fingers bare to the bone
Breaking your back, make you sell your soul
Like a lung it's filled with coal, suffocating slow
The wind blows wild and I may move
But politician's lie and I am not fooled
You don't need no razor or a three piece suit
To argue the truth
The air on my skin and the world under my toes
Slavery stitched into the fabric of my clothes
Chaos and commotion wherever I go
Love I try to follow

There ain't no reason things are this way
It's how they always been and they intend to stay
I can't explain why we live this way,
We do it everyday

Click to get the full image.

Each of our unique traits drawn with ms paint.

i am of cos, the elephant hunter!

can I just say.

that its been a extremely fucked up 23rd birthday.

and I am feeling alot of angst and i fucking feel like bashing the shit out of something.


Fuck.


i cant really remember the last time I got so fucking pissed off over the smallest of things.

Came in the Mail


abit battered, but it survived. the customs opened it up. wanks.

Shawn and Goldie's idea of a joke. 

Look!

Print awesomeness

                                                                                     

so the lists stands
1. Bought for myself a Canon G9.
2. Ken sent me some nerdy geeky electronics stuff.
3. Shawn & Goldie sent some Print loving.


Whats next?

This is the clue.

most people bring it along, some dont as they can do without, usage differs from individual to individual and its considered an essential. the places which provide it are aplenty.

It is thin, colourful, produces sounds and has more functions than an iPhone.
it has nothing to do with microsoft.

It may or may not be a gadget.
But most certainly, its not cash.


So seriously, what can it be?
Please tell me if you have a clue.

i doubt its an mobilephone anyway. it cant be a pda cause it has nothing to do with Microsoft. i doubt its a palm pilot too.


I hate surprises when its not really a surprise. but a slow torment that gnaws on you as you prepare to turn in for the night.

my family is FUCKING devious.

and guess what, i can only get my grubby hands on it when i get back. cause they arnt posting it. and they refuse to tell me why.

Yessssssssssss.
The Special One is in the house.

Neil Neil drew this for me.

I AM THE ELEPHANT HUNTER SUPREMO!

KINGKANGKONG AND HIS ELEPHANT GUN!

Please get a driver's license.

"you need to learn how to drive."

"son, get your license, we'll buy you a car."

"thats why you need a car."

"ALL GUYS should get their license by the time they are 23." (slightly contentious remark made by a starfish.)



Erh.......no?


Why dont I want to learn how to drive?

firstly, the process is anal retentive both in singapore and australia.

In singapore, after a quick check on the web, it seems that you need to book your theory tests 6 months in advance.
Which sounds bollocks to me. i mean, even the registration for GCE O lvls didnt take that long.

In australia, or queensland at least, you need to hold your L for a period of 12 months. which seems an incredibably long time to me.


But those are the superficial reasons as to why I'm not exactly enthused about learning to drive.

First things first, just to set things straight. i LOVE cars.

I think they are marvellous pieces of technology.

I have BBC's topgear website on my bookmarks and i click the refresh button zealously after every few hours.

really, I love cars and can rattle on and on about the virtues of a V6 and how the new Challenger looks so amazing but only worth it if you get the yet to be launched version with the pistol shaped grip shift.


But driving..........i dont think so.


Firstly, if I was able to drive, i dont think I will exactly fall into the category of safe drivers.
Not only that, I would probably fall into the category of aggressive drivers who would be prone to road rage.
I have no qualms at flicking the bird when I am a passenger in a car, i cant imagine how I would behave if i am put behind the wheel.

Then there is the little problem about car ownership.

I can see myself pouring too much money into a car if I could drive.
I dont think that will be wise. really. not wise at all.


Then, there is the environment. I am no tree hugger, but am aware that I will contribute in saving the environment if I consciously decide to utilise public transport. Considering the amount of damage that I do to the environment with cigarettes, i reckon not driving would help.



Then again, I dont suppose those are really strong factors that cause me disinterest with driving.
so what is it?

Very simply that, taking the public transport is just fucking fantastic and interesting.

Most will dismiss public transport just because its public transport.
But even here in brisvegas, where a good public transport system seems to almost be a taboo subject, i find little nuggets on my commutes that keeps me going back to the trains, buses and that keeps me away from motorcars.

There is just so much to see on a bus, so much to contemplate on a train and so much to discover just by walking that few kilometers.


Its just different I suppose.
Different folks, different strokes.

I suppose I am the kind of person who would forego convenience in exchange for an experience.


Take into consideration rising petrol prices, expensive parking charges and your myriad of taxes and expenses that would be incurred with ownership of a car, I suppose I will just stay away.

and oh, a drivers license now will cost approximately 2 thousand dollars in our current climate.

just off the top of my head, I can think of at least 5 different better ways of spending that money.


and seriously, zhng-ing car talk and crap, that alot of guys my age seem to be obsessed with, bores me.

because my idea of a fast car is an Audi R8, not a vtecrap honda.

Somewhat pretentious for someone who doesnt drive right?

eh.....no, again. but why I disagree with this, i have blogged about previously. So I shall not reharsh on what I have written before.







but then, some would ask, what about riding a motorcycle?

My god, thats another story.

I would pay to learn and pay to own a bike.

Cause riding a motorcycle......... that, you have to try for yourself.

I just want to say.

that.


the Audi R8 v12 TDi takes my breathe away.

and

that the Alfa Romeo Brera knocks me off my feet.

How do they make cars like these?


My god.

too beautiful.

Look what the shitheadpostal boys bought in!
straight from Singapore! PAR AVION OK!










seeing my bday is in a months time, here is my address where all packages and contraband can be sent to!




























so whats in th bag?!

YESSSS.... ITS THE GTA4 FROM SINGAPORE. COMPLETE, UNABRIDGED AND DEFINITELY UNCENSORED! AUSSIE VIDEO GAMES SUCKKKKK. singapore video games goooooood!

yaozza die happy.
yesterday handed up assingment. free for one week. no school today.
I'm gonna knock myself out on shooting cops and banging hoes!


thanks to the dudes back home that I got GTA4.
fantastic fellas them! rocks.
muizz im coming to waste your ass.

I never shrink away from disagreements.

Like the other man, I'm always up for a hearty discussion with heated exchange of views.

However, it just occurred to me that civility is something very very fragile.

Especially in the age of the internet as well as the coming of web2.0, where audience participation and interaction is of paramount importance.

It just floored me that I was attacked on an internet forum by some goon who doesnt even know my real name.

Yea, I probably shouldnt care and just like fucking move on.

But it irks me. and something just dawned on me.

That its very possible for me to be hated by some people, people who dont know me, in my future profession.

My heart beats alittle faster, I gulp my coffee alittle more hurriedly when I find discourse and disagreement.

My mouth gets alittle dry, my brain goes into a buzz of activity and rebuttal thoughts. 

If I wasnt human, I would probably go mental like an animal.

But this only occurs when I sense an argument, an exchange of view points.

Today this didnt happen, today what happened was that I was labeled.

I was fucking labelled by someone who didnt even know me. 

So what did I feel?

I felt as tho I got to brain fuck this person into submission.

but i didnt.

I gave a half arsed response. Because I just didnt really bother to do much.

What worried me more was something more troubling I suppose.

I better learn and get used to being hated. Get used to being called names that I wont even use in my profanity dictionary.

Seriously, I better learn to be unmoved when hate stares at me in the fucking face.

I reckon, thats the only way to maintain dignity and coherent thought.

It has just dawned on me that the passing week, I've been dreading staying home.

I dont really care for the judgmental comments that keeps coming my way about my lifestyle.

I don't feel the need to justify my lifestyle to anyone. Never did, never would. 

Especially towards people who seriously, for lack of the better word, I couldnt give 2 flying fucks about.

My late nights, my coffee intake, my obsession with eating out, my tobacco inhaling habit, my almost insane work schedule that I adhere too.

It's my life, my time, my moods. I live it the way I like.

I don't see how I dont get afforded the civility of solidarity and impartialness.

Usually when a person doesnt give 2 fucks about you, its a clue to do the same.

but some people just dont fucking get it do they. its a sad world with  penchant for cruel twists of fate.

I never did judge on doing 50 press ups and 20 chin ups a day. I never did judge on guzzling juice and eating cornflakes for snacks.

and most definitely, i have never made any retarded condescending comments about the so called home cook meals that you serve up. Those are fit for the pig bin if we want to be really honest.

All I want, is to be left alone without comment or judgement.

I'd really prefer if we stick to the Hi, bye and occasional meals together.

To be honest, I really prefer to be left alone.

Because in all honesty, the company is nothing to shout about.

I reckon I can have more fun with me, myself and I.

I dont want to hear about girl problems.

I dont wanna hear about work problems.

I dont want to hear about any fucking that needs my input.

cause seriously, dont they fucking get it?

I DONT GIVE A FUCK.

sometimes i wonder why i deprive myself of sleep.

Yes, sometimes i skip sleep because I got work to do.

But it always seems that after my work is done, I find reasons not to go rest.


I feel extremely shitty now. I guess downing more espresso when what i really needed was sleep, was on hind sight, extremely retarded.


good night world.


and oh, this came in the mail today.










and seriously, you dont want to ask me how much it costs.

my expressions on tuesday mornings.




digusting timing.






fella should be shot and refried like re-fried mexican beans.





I love skitch.











I quite like gloria jeans as well. I like their cafe mocha. which is 3 shots of espresso doused with chocolate and milk. its thick, strong and not sweet at all. the way i like it.

and oh, the internet is nice too. cheap. 8 hours for 11 dollars. if not, how did you wonder I managed to blog in a cafe in wifi deprived bne?

perhaps, I am just immature in the way that I am.
its a great failing, i must admit

but I cannot be, patently what I cannot do.

why do I keep buying songs from itunes?
why? because its sooooooo damn easy.
let me show you with skitch.

writers note : skitch is for mac. sorry windows users. skitch is too cool for bill i guess.


firstly, open itunes and then,























over at the itunes store.














and then...



























you then...



















finally











its all way to easy.
skitch is easy too. all photos hosted by skitch!

But its a leica...



















I always wanted a compact. having the all my previous cameras were great and they performed really well for my uses.

But I always found myself carrying a bag to places where I really dont want to carry a bag. Carrying a big camera also means that its very difficult to shoot up close if I want to stay incognito.

I have been searching for a compact for a very long time. But always been fustrated by the lack of full manual functions in compacts. The ixus line, fuji F series were all very competent compacts but lacked what I really wanted in cameras, which is creative control.

I dont know how to shoot with pre determined settings by the camera because up till today, I still dont understand why the camera meteres of focuses the way it does when I leave it on auto or on the pre selected modes. So without Full M, it was really quite difficult for me to do the things that I want to do.


The canon G series looked really great, had a play with jess's G7 and it really impressed with. But they were always too expensive and I have a natural aversion to canon that I myself cannot explain. For an example, the lack of a bettary meter on fn's ixus 75 always baffled me. i couldnt understand how a major company could leave out something that basic when they werent even using the easily obtainable AA batteries.


The leica seems to fufill all my wants and needs. Yes, its gonna be more expensive than most, but still less than the G9.

I reckon its the perfect companion to any DSLR and have decided to get it when the price is right.

My dslr have been a really great tool in furthering what I know about taking photos and I have really enjoyed using it. Even with the kit lense, the performance have been pleasing. with my sigma f2.8, its been even more versatile. the nikkor 55-200 VR that i bought recently gives me quite abit of reach too.

I am pretty happy with my current DSLR set up. a 10-24 sigma in the future would more or less complete my range needs.

I have always maintained that at the end of 2 years, I will eventually get the d300 or the d3 and I maintain that course.


But for the time being, I look forward to getting the Lecia D-lux3. I reckon it'll fufill the wants that I have in a compact.




and its gonna be mine in the near future.



yes, i believe that I will get the leica very soon.
for what i want, i usually get it in the end.

"I like it cause I think it's classy."

I usually respond with a polite nod and make some appropriate noise that is appropriate in the circumstance.
usually along the lines off:

"hmm. erm k. nice."



but seriously, in my head, I'm thinking of something else.
like jess put it most aptly, "FUCK YOU UNDERSTAND? " is really what I want to say or am thinking. In no particular order of importance or relevance.


Some people are born with class. Some people are not.
Some people ooze this innately. Most put on a tuxedo and try, but end up looking and feeling extremely....phony, just like how Caulden Holdfield puts it.


I don't pretend to be the epitome of class,I am not. Most times these days, you will find me siting on my balcony floor, smoking a cigarette, swigging cola and surfing the net on my ibook. Infact, just exactly what I am doing now.

I mean, I know as much as anyone that THAT is no where what we would call classy.

I mean heh, i like eating at prata places! I CANT be classy right?



wrong.
so fucking wrong.

But my piece today is not about my deficiency in trying to mobilize in the social ladder. upwards or downwards, thats debatable, but most notably downwards I suppose =]



I'm not pointing out anyone or naming names cause you chaps (kind readers, anti K3 club members, G-unit spies) probably wont know who I am talking about anyway.

and so I begin after a very long and tedious foreward, fore warning note.



In the pursuit of class.


A nice car. An expensive car. Not suited well to my uses. but who gives a fuck? it screams CLASS babeh!






A bean bag. Pretty useless. But seriously, I like it, its classy.
So fucking classy. (writers note: its comfy, but seriously ugly.)






An expensive DSLR. its my first camera. I don't really know how to use it. What is shutter & aperture? what? thats the battery compartment? gee. i didnt know. but its expensive, thus it must be ? CLASSY!





A nice jacket. I dont know, i just know that zara is gay thus I'm not buying it. It doesn't matter to me if i tell someone i barely know that zara is so fucking gay when he is wearing it in front of me. I don't really care. wait, and did i tell you that zara is only for gays? I only know that my expensive jacket is not zara and thus not gay. and therefore I am not a fag. But anyway ,that means that my jacket is?

CLASSY!






A girlfriend. Looks the part. Feels like the part. I like her. why?
cause she is?

CLASSY! (writers note : I must say, I STRONGLY DISAGREE. FAUX FRENCH NAME DOESNT EQUATE CLASSY. and if the name doesnt fit, dont wear it. in this case, it doesnt.)






What music do you listen to? the more classy kind?

(writers note: to which I replied, I like metal.)

oh, I don't know much about music. But I like the classy kind.

(writers note: to which i think to myself, why the fuck do you ask me who is vivaldi when I'm listening to the four seasons, which is fucking like vivaldi's most fucking well known piece. I dont mean to say that I am classy, but its orchestra! and that HAS to be classy right? if anything, its fucking victorian!)






I support liverpool. I dont really watch their matches, nor can I name a starting eleven. But I have a friend who supports liverpool and he is fairly classy. So yea, LIVERPOOL, YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE CLASSLESS!

(writers note: which is fucking retarded cause england is one of the most class conscious place on this planet. and if he knew that liverpool supporters stem from the docks, where they wont have as much class as supporters up rich london, he'll probably throw a fit and start wearing a chelsea scarf.)




The word "classy" is banded around so much like a fly swat that I'm getting "classy" fatigue. Especially from someone whom I have yet to detect a single strand of class.




The examples above all stem from the writer's own encounters from one source.





in the pursuit of class. I reckon one should learn how to be a gentleman.
To learn to have a conversation, where both sides give and take. Where the exchange of polite opinions are observed.

Doggdly maintaining that your opinion is the right opinion is the one great major failing that I see most often.

Learning how to see that the other party is more well informed than you are is a great start. Not knowing your stuff doesnt exactly give the best footing in a verbal sparring session.

You can argue your case the whole night long on how Sony PSPs are the BEST SELLING SYSTEMS EVER and throw your "are your sure?" to the other party.

It just doesn't mean that you are right, it most certainly means that you are so god awfully wrong because the other party is a videogame geek. (who has too many video games) and the figures dont lie. its all online, go check.





Humility. I dont really want to know how you out smarted your exam questions because seriously, it just doesnt interest me. nor does it make you sound incredibly smart.




I dont really want to have a conversation with you just like how I never ever talk to a mule.




I dont want to talk about religion as well. Why? Simple, I dont see how we can have a conversation about religion when I am more grounded in your religion than you are yourself. and I am fucking agnostic.




first incident recall
me: You cant eat meat today.
classy boi : why?
me: its good friday.



incident recall part 2:
classy boi: "whats your religion?"

Qian :"Im agnostic"

classy boi: "nice"

*Qian WHAT TEH FUCK?! WHAT SHIT? WHAT SHIT?!?*

(writers note: doubt he knows what agnostic means. will one day engage him in religious theology conversation when I am feeling mean.)




I dont want to speak politics with you, because you ask me retarded questions like "john howard now where? no more PM right?"




I refuse to have a conversation on the environment with you. Because you cant grasp what the ozone layer really is. seriously, its not a piece of plastic.





I dont really want to hear how you think your good friend will go along way in life. just because you think he will.





You are not hardcore like you claim when you do things. you just take abit more time than others long to learn thus explaining the protracted time you take on certain activities.






sigh, there are so many more things that I feel like putting in words but my fingers are quiet tired and so is my mind. Something like chatting on the phone with some girl about some in-nane topics like, "eh dont you think she looks like stef sun?"

I mean seriously, grow some balls.







I know, bitching is not exactly classy, but heh, I didnt claim to be classy. I eat at prata places and use my ibook in the balcony. what do you think?







christ, living with strangers while having the need to keep my potty mouth shut to keep the peace is tough.

The question yesterday was why do people still use windows media player?
using itunes is so effortless and buying songs off the itunes store is WAY too easy.
and with coverflow looking so pretty, seriously, why bother with anything else?!












anyway

The question today is,

Where the fuck is postman pat with my stuff?!
its been a whole damn week.

ivr never been so happy looking at blinking lights.

the lil green lights running vertically down a stark black surface.

beeping, cooing.

the shivers.



internet junkie?

no.



hi speed unlimited internet junkie.


yes sir. and i'll take that with a compliment.



my house mates will drool at my connection.

will I share?


no. I dont share band width.

Z wasnt home today.


I wanted to suggest heading out for dinner because i hate washing up when they cook.


When i left my room at around 630pm to ask the chaps out for dinner.

Dinner preparation was already underway.
My portion included.


One look, and i knew.



god, dinner tonight was awful.

Thank god I myself cooked the rice, if not, I dare not dare even entertain the thought.

Well, I made it pass dinner.


Tomorrow, I'm gonna grill some bangers and make some mash for the fellas.


God, tonight's dinner was awful.



I regret telling the guys I cant cook to save my own life.

without an answer, the thunder speaks for the sky, and on the cold wet dirt I die.




Some good, some not so good, and some not so good made to look very good.

you guys know what I mean...

Im so FUCKING JADED.

stop FUCKING *&^%$#$%^ MY SORRY ASS OFF *&^%$#$%^ TOURISTY SHOOTS.



FUCK.



FUCK!



FUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!!!!



One of these days I must go out and shoot all by myself.

in the open.
























todays reporting tut.















we have tutorial rooms. the profs just dont like to use em. its odd. wearing shades in class. its really odd.

It was fun while it lasted.

Now the daggers are all out.

I want mancini out.

I want mourinho in.


GG liverpool.

Thoughts on living alone.


Its quiet. Its very quiet.

The liberty to play music at quite obscene volumes.

Leaving bathroom doors open.

Sleeping with the bed room doors open.

Wrecking the kitchen.

Wrecking my dinner without someone taking the piss outta me.

Stocking the near empty fridge with bachelor junk food that needs refrigerating.

Stocking the kitchen cabinest and mountains of junk food that do not need refrigerating.

Watching The GoodFellas at 4am in the morning without the need to being mindfull.

Xbox360 set up in the kitchen. Just because I can.

No one sits on the couch unless I want to sit on the couch.

All round imbecility cause I can.




After this couple of weeks of living alone, it really whet my appetite of living alone when and IF I decide to go back to singapore.


if anything, just for the fact that I can do utterly unappropriated things where and when i want too. Now don't think dirty, what I meant was strewing worn socks all over the place.





Eileen, I was right cause I reckon we are the same sort of person/sucker. Useless in the face of material seductions. You sucker =]

Please oh please camera gods, there is only 1 thing that i want. its not the newest and flashiest dslr. its not. what i want is....




Dear camera gods, I need a replacement mirror for my beloved srt101b. 1961-1977 vintage. Please let me find one. Remember, its the mirror that needs replacing.


Thank you most sincerely.


Yi Qian

I just got notified.

Apple.com.sg

Apple iPod Classic 80GB is going for 388 sgd.


I paid around 430 sgd when it came out. which isnt too long ago.


butt fucked by apple.
seriously, whats so good about being a early adopter? I just get freaking fleeced!

well, its been close to a month since I last blogged.

The last 3 weeks in Singapore went by in a blur of work and appointments.


Now I'm back and its funny.

whats funny?

Living alone in a big house is.

Well, I got free run of the place and have set up shop in the dining room.

I only pray I dont get broken in and get all my stuff stolen.

Relationships should be maintained like how hands are maintained.


I have gotten an abrasion on my ring finger. Its just above the nail line and its annoying me tremendously with the immense time that its taking to heal.


First a cut, ignoring it exacerbates it into an area of abrasion and discomfort between itch and pain. ( I have a low pain threshold.)

So I thought sometime last week that I had enough and that it was high time to get it band aided.

So I dutifully headed to watsons and gotten a pack of plasters. Watson's house brand. It was cheaper than the competitors and I thought what the fuck, its just a cut, a normal plaster would do.

But it didnt do.

Without mentioning the fact that it was a bitch to put on, it didnt keep out water like it claimed on the box.

And that was not the worst part, the worst part was taking the plaster off at the end of the day.

Taking off the plaster was akin to peeling the feathers of a still alive and kicking chicken.

It was just impossible.


Having a cut on a finger is just ridiculous as I learned this pass week.

You think twice about doing the dishes with the detergent and hot water. You think twice before handling every other item taking care to make sure its clean.
You think twice if you should hold on to railings on stairs and escalators.
You worry about putting your hands in you pockets cause you dont wanna touch the sensitive area.

Its just impossible.

You take pains to keep it nice, clean and dry. Then you go to the toilet and you forget. You take a piss and need to wash your hands, you then realise that your finger was in contact with your little brother and washing it is unavoidable.

You know its gonna suck getting it wet but you have no choice.

So you wash it.

it hurts, you ignore it.

But it never really goes away.


You go to kfc, you get your piece of cholesterol and you are ready to dig in. It then hits you that kfc doesnt give out forks or knifes ( dont say spoons, I'd like to see you eat fried chicken with spoons.) and you gotta get your hands dirty.

What do you do?

First, you wash your hands. urgh.

then you dig into your chicken. urgh.

and when you are done with your meal?

rinse, wash and repeat. (pun intended.)

it hurts, you ignore it.

But it never really goes away.




Today, I ran out of watson plasters, so I got a new pack. This time, I made sure to get branded ones. Handiplas. I hope it really is water proof like it says on the box. Seriously, I really hope it is and that the medicated patch really does help.


A cut on a finger.


So whats my point in saying how relationships should be treated like hands?


Its really simple really.


People take pains to maintain relationships. To keep them ticking over nicely nice and all hunky dory.

Getting into wet situations (dont think dirty you fucking perverts) is just unavoidable.

Do you ignore it?

Yes? No? Maybe? I dont know?

And if you do, does it really goes away?

It doesn't really does it?

But I digress.

I believe and is a strong advocate that maintaining interpersonal relationships requires a meticulous eye, immense effort and care.

But even having the prerequisite factors arnt enough in some sticky situations.

I cant exactly put a finger into what else is needed but Im pretty sure that those things are existent and very real.

Ignoring the cut was a bad move in the beginning.

Buying the cheapo plaster just made things worse.

In the end, it was necessary to endure an extended amount of time with the company of physical displeasure and annoyance.


I seriously wonder how things will have panned out if I had gotten proper and good plasters in the beginning.


Its like how i wonder how things will be if I had handled matters regarding the people in my life differently.

Perhaps with more care and concern, things may have ended differently.


A band aid.

We all need band aids now and then.

Even if its just to cover the cracks for the time being, we all need our band aids.


If we ignore things and forget the band aid, what we are left with, is a gaping wound that hurts and just wont go away or heal easily.


There are no gurantees that this new plasters would do wonders but I am going to give it a try. Besides, what other choice do I have?

Between pain and a gamble, I reckon a gamble is worth taking, odds non withstanding.

So lets just give it another couple of days and hope that the cut heals =]

which is more than i can say for other issues that i have! haha!




Next week I am heading to the dentist and I will see if relationships are more akin to maintaining teeth then as compared with hands.

p.s my teeth aint hurting, just that its been years and I should seriously visit a dentist. and besides, like I have heard, if it starts to hurt, its probably too late to repair the damages.

I want to go back to australia.


....

seriously, its 8am. i slept at 6. its barely 2 hours.

damn an sms.



Seriously, if its bad news, you are buying dinner.

Perhaps, its time to pat myself on the back.

I've been back almost 2 months and I must admit, I am very impressed at my self discipline thus far.

No side tracking, no false thoughts and definitely, most definitely, no episodes of disastrous and self harming ideologies of fallacy.

Sometime in September, or was it October, I set myself a list of behaviour cues. I must say, I have stuck to my guns and have been rewarded somewhat fruitfully.

I must say, its not all my own effort. Playing video games through the night with muizz, watching movies with shawn, shooting with mx, laughing with luwin and hanging out with jess has made time fly before my very eyes.

Times that I spent with friends have been indeed extremely enjoyable and ever more sweet compared with the solidarly months I spent in Australia.

Times spent alone have been equally enjoyable. A drink, a book, some fags and a couple of hours still seem to do the trick for me. Shopping has been fantastic as well. With me spending money on things without much thought, its as though the 6 weeks passed has just been a wonderful release of tension for me. Like a spring that had been tightly wound for a couple of months releasing some what violently within this short few weeks.

At this juncture, I feel as re energized and am seemingly ready to assault the next objective with vigour and enthusiasm.


What this entry is essentially about, is the satisfaction that I feel for myself.

Seemingly, I have been as resolute as I have ever hoped to be. Knuckingly down and going about the things that are important to me. It feels good, really good to be kind to oneself.

I have met all the people that I wanted to meet and done most of the things that I wanted to do. I have watched the movies that I have wanted to watch and bought most of the junk that I really want to buy. (although this is debatable. There is still the small matter of the Sigma 17-50mm f2.8 HSM which will burn a small hole in my pocket.)

Contentment. I suppose thats the word that everyone should try and find. Yes, I recognise that somethings are there to be fought tooth and nail for. But I also recognise when and where to beat a hasty retreat for reasons of self preservation.

The good man stays to fight the good fights.

But the smart man chooses the fights to fight.

I've fought myself countless times in the past. But with maturity ( i think thats the appropirate word), I now think about very carefully about the things that I allow disturb or distress me.

Its really not all about butterflies and sleepy dreamy afternoons.

What I reckon its really about, is choosing the good people to meet and the good places to eat.


The rest, I reckon pretty seriously, are quite arbitrary.

Signatures.
looking back.


The latest signature, the current one what we are using. Call of Duty 4 inspired. Also came out because we were getting rid of dead weight members as well as TD wannabes. Flash & Bang. Innuendo aplenty.




Designed by Dame. Came out when there was a drought in games and there wasnt much to do. As you can see, this design was inspired by the program Band of Brothers. "For he who sheds his blood with me shall me my brother."

that used to be accurate till we started having female members. 2 now actually. ahxue and dame.





Tom Clancy Rainbow 6 Las Vegas inspired. One of the first game centric signatures that we ever had. Jit felt that the "ownage since 2004" he put scared the shit out of newbies. Well, it didnt =p





I did this myself. Thus the different overtone. This I made when I just joined TD. It's in latin. Manus Damnabilior = Team Damnation,
While "occidi ea cunctum" means kill em all.





This was just tomfoolery around with the computer. This signature wasnt exactly well recieved as other forum slugs thought i was one of the few, the proud and the bitter. Well to be honest, i did ask them to go fuck themselves. *shrugs*






This was one of the clumsy first attempts. Tried to play around with xbox centric colours. it didnt come out so good. But it was the first one that I used with anything regularity.

oh my goodness.



watching a sappy drama has left me giggling like a 15 year old girl at 6am in the morning.



oh my.


I think I'm seriously losing it.


Something is wrong with me.

Shites...



bleah.





ew. gross.

its 520am.

Out the whole day shopping. Got everything ready for xmas at long last but I feel so broke. I got myself the crumpler 7 mil home for my camera. Crazy.

Lost 100 bucks too boot. Dropped 2 blue notes somewhere without knowing. fiack.



Going out is very stressful. I see people I dont want to see. I saw people I didnt wanna see. Its all very stressful even when I am supposed to be on holiday.



Just finished writing some stuff for work.

Listening to matchbox twenty's new album, Exile to Mainstream.
I like it plenty.
I suppose its worth the money I paid for it.

Football at 9am. I'm not playing but I'm turning up anyway to see the mad fellas and take some photos.



I'm addicted to bokeh.
gimme 50mm f1.8 for the faces.
gimme 17-50 f2.8 for the streets.
gimme 55-200mm vr for the stealth.


whoever said photography is not expensive can go kill themselves.

well, my only justification is, I'm gonna need those lenses next semester.
hah.

I suppose my thoughts are alittle scatted, I suppose its got something to do with the cigarettes, atarax and weariness setting in.

I feel quite weird.

Ok I'm off.