new year...

the new year is about to commence in god knows how many more hours, and it feels no different than yesterday, and would probably feel no different than tomorrow. the whole bulloo about a fresh start and new beginning is just an outright lie to oneself. no point kidding oneself, that is just way too much effort spent on a fabrication of a lovely tale that just ain't.

the end of this year is spent no different than the last, working. many think it insane, my parents do not quite approve, though for reasons rather different from the others who are making merry. well, that makes me me, after all, who ever said that was sane to begin with???

as the hours ticker down, wonder what it would be working this last moments of the year at yet another place, and only heading back to my crypt at the first sunrise of the new year. way to go. happy new year, my foot.

treasure hunt...

remembered coming across and reading a really interesting article in the papers on how a girl left little notes with scrawled love and doodled affection all over the house. hidden in all the most unlikely of hooks and crannies, the game of treasure hunt was one of the few things that have kept her parents going. the little girl had carried out her operation of "hide and seek" in secret, in the midst of her painful suffering, well knowing that her days were numbered, yet also knowing that she had to leave something behind.

her going was no doubt a lamentable tragedy to have to stomach, no parents ever want for their child to have an early departure. then again, death is never an easy pill to swallow, though chew, digest and crap it out, or chew and spit it out one still has to. at the end of the day, it does not really matter which way, especially when the end point is, supposedly, somewhat the same.

it was written in that article that her parents are still playing that game of treasure hunt till this day, always hoping to find buried treasure in a new little note hidden behind somewhere, in between something. each time, a new revelation is found in the middle of all the bittersweet memories and heartjerking tears. what this little girl did, is beyond admiration, and what she left behind, brilliantly priceless, though the best part, really, is the fact that she was only five.

just ain't quite the same...

christmas time, mistletoe and wine. not. far from it.

the tree was painstakingly put up and carefully decorated with slow but loving hands because that was a missing piece of the christmas picture last year. the colors and background that you missed out on and would never be a part of, ever again. guilt and pain hung about in the air like the christmas stocking on my door.

there was no way christmas cheer could perk up the solemn atmosphere and make everything go away, even if for a little, seeing how season greetings were painfully forced out while the present exchange turned into such a sad muted affair. it was quieter, heavier, and somehow, it was just, that element of missing something, though in all honesty, think it was more missing someone than something. christmas just ain't quite the same without you.

the morning after...

watching the sunrise quietly on the stairs outside as the deejay spins the decks in the background can be quite an experience. yes, was at one mega huge beach party, but not as part of the partying crowd, but as one of them worker bees to serve the crazy mad alcoholics. the words "bone tired" cannot even faintly describe what the night was like.

in all seriousness, all hell breaking loose is a stinking understatement. the night, was just yet another reminder, as to why am a big fan of staying away from places like these, and how me really rather choose death by a guillotine than to evolve into such a creature, no, gargoyle, of the night. one shalt not insult the good name of a creature.

walked into the party entrance in the evening, and pretty much crawled out that same entrance the very next morning, a good backbreaking voice shattering twelve hours later. amazingly slipped through the whole thing intact, with plenty of free mindboggling but awfully hilarious entertainment to keep me sane. the world was seen, yet again, through a different set of eyes, from innumerous deviant angles, so yes, good morning sunshine.

pack and go...

how do you fit your life into nine boxes and some???

how do you pack and go???

this time... last year... it was so...

well... simply... one box at a time... just be careful not to break your back while at it...

for every hello... evidently... there is a goodbye...

brilliant talent...

there is a knowing that brilliant talent is all around, waiting to be discovered, if only to be uncovered. boundaries are set by one, and therefore, through logical deduction, that would technically mean the boundaries can be pushed, and readjusted to fit one's needs and wants. and if all else fails, guess it falls back on the "fail safe" option of "just settle for...".

at the very end of it, it really matters not, not one teeny weeny bit. it is found, that perhaps, one is really no more special, and is pretty much just as mediocre as the rest of the fish in the sea. oh merry merry me, oh so sad, but oh so true.

that said, there is no harm appreciating the beauty in the brilliant talent found in others that one so lacks in all entity. so where have failed to express in any capacity, here is a little piece that spoke volumes to and for me, all about you who has recently left all of us for a better place we know where you know no sorrow or pain. in my words, in my world, in that very way me know how.

to be dead...

if my feet could cry, they would be bawling right about now. that is how it is when it comes to prolonged hours standing in boots, even with the given breaks in between. and whoever does dare say different that such standing is an "easy job", will be stabbed in the eye with those very heels, with a little poke, no, make that a rough shove up where the sun does not shine.

the best bit, is that there is another two more days of twelve gruelling hours of cramped torture. if my feet could have a facial expression put to them, they would probably have that look of excruciation when in constipation from the brutality they have been put through. then again, perhaps, and just perhaps, my feet were just made to cry, or worse, die, god forbid.

bear with me my dear crying to be dead feet, the worst has yet to come. when it is all over, those tears will be dried, and nightmarish fears of broken toes will stay aside. until then, the foot tub, thick socks, bandaids, foot padding and foot rubs are on call, for you to beckon at will, so please do me a big favor, and not die on me just yet.

whee...

with the coming of this day, daddy reaches yet another milestone in his life. it is a little hard to fully comprehend how daddy is officially now in his golden years and can be considered eligible for that claim to an elderly status, but guess that is how time just slips on by. yet again, it feels just like any other day of the year.

that aside, this special benchmark was earmarked with a rather peculiar, and definitely smashing, prezzie from mommy. so yes, daddy is now a proud owner of a brand new nintendo wii system, big thanks to a mommy who attempts to be hip and hop with the latest trend these days. well, the expression of the year was nothing short of classic, not to mention daddy's words on receiving his prezzie, "wow, you bought a wonderful birthday present for me, for yourself, thank you", brilliant.

in view of how this distressing year has been one of destitution and woe, guess it can be said that there is much to be thankful for in this little blessing that daddy has lived to see another year after all the previous mishaps. for now, the wii has been successfully set up and planted in the living room, with four wee little mee characters created for what is hoped to be more family fun and many more years to come. so in all seriousness, definitely got to say, whee...!?!

door...

it is often said, that when life throws you lemons, make lemonade with it. honestly, that could not be any harder to do, especially with the searing sting lemons can bring. what of opportunity then???

can opportunity be considered a lemon??? if anything, it is as much a curveball as any other kick ass problem, just a more preferable and supposedly desired one me suppose. should one make the best out of that, or wait for the next, supposedly and assumedly, better one to come along???

a door is a door. a door either to heaven or hell. or maybe, even a door to nothing at all.

eenie... meenie... minee... mo...

eenie... meenie... minee... mo...
catch the spider on the wall...
if it dies...

let it go...
eenie... meenie... minee... mo...

decisions, decisions, decisions. if only making a choice was all that easy. at the end of the day, it is always easier said than done, no???

cadbury love...

a close girlfriend's saying always rings at the back of my head whenever am at the candy section of the supermarket or walking past a chocolatier, and even moreso when things get a tad too bumpy for liking. she is, without a doubt, and has proven on more than one occasion, the saying of "a friend in need, is a friend indeed", especially when that bond spans over years. even though there was no loud rahaha while catching the advertisement, she popped to mind when it came on, and well, got to credit cadbury for its creativity.

the last...

it was one of those out of the blue random things that just happens when one least expects it. mommy found an old red, or rather, gold, packet that was hidden in her mountain of clothes, with my name in a familiar scrawl across the flap of the packet. she handed it over, and recognizing the handwriting, said it was from godmommy for this year's lunar new year.

gingerly holding that golden packet, a little of a flashflood went through my mind's eye. although she had been having pains everywhere, and trouble with her failing eye, she never forgot. the strength in her penmanship in those few alphabets in my name reminded me of the painstaking effort she took just to ink those few letters down, hopefully lovingly, perhaps also well knowing that might be her very last since she was already on a countdown.

it was a tad hard not to feel the pinch of the pain that came, for it struck a swift blow. have pretty much already put that packet away for safekeeping, stupid and impractical as it might sound to some not to take the money out of the packet and use it, or save it at the very least. yet, it was the last, gift and well wish and whatever more it could be and was meant to be, despite its lateness in arrival, and somehow or other, much of me would like to keep it that way, silly as it may be.

missing mad crazy...

insane as it sounds, and probably a heinous crime to boy and girlfriends who know of my sick fetish for work, there is an unbelievable longing for those mad crazy days of filming around the clock and close to no sleep hours. no reason why. guess when it is a pressure cooker around with family and all, even the supposed unthinkable becomes actual respite.

there can be no cessation to any of the things that happen, has to happen and will happen, that much is truth. or rather, that much is reality, brutally painful as it can be. indulgence that lead to destruction of moronic absurdity by personal standards is beyond me.

so that said, where does that really leave me??? missing mad crazy. preposterously ludicrous a notion as it may be, a busy bee workaholic lifestyle cannot be a fault, after all, it is a hard knock life.

boy into man...

today, is the day the male sibling got enlisted into army. compulsory conscription might sound and seem barbaric to some, but guess it cannot be helped unless one's parents had a country's treasury, like say dubai, worth of dollar bills to buy one's way out of it. today, is the day the boy, supposedly, according to daddy, becomes a man. how true that statement stands, guess one will see in time to come. until then, well, one can only hope military life will do right by him.

good... better... best...

work is good. busy is good, very busy is better, extremely busy, no, make that overworked is best. helps to keep those crappy unthinkable stray thoughts at bay.

belgium...

there and back, belgium was certainly more than what me had bargained for in more ways than one. for all the good, bad, happy and sad, well, guess it was all part of the package. it would not be what it was, if there was anything less.

belgian waffles, check, and on an unusually entertaining boat ride to boot. belgian chocolates, check, of which even got my hands dirty, lovingly of course, with the enticing aroma of chocolate whilst on a crash course apprenticeship with a famous chocolatier. belgian mussels, check, salted as can be, in a little pot. belgian friedkot, check, fresh out of artery clogging beef oil, in a traditional paper cone, alongside tonnes of flavorful sauces, and sinfully yummilicious. belgian ice tea, lipton no less, of which tried the lemon and peach flavors, and well, it was something rather unique, and simply delectable with the fizz to make it sparklingly refreshing. on hindsight, sounds like all that has been mentioned so far has to do with the eats and drink. so in short, really, food, glorious food.

it was nothing short of being a sanctuary, with the scenary to boot, beautifully picturesque in its seamless blend of something new and something old. loved the streets of old cobbles though they were bloody painful to walk on when on anything higher than ground level, and the broken stiletto heels in my suitcase are proof of that. much rather be on nice flat soles that do not go round crippling the feet, pity work is work and flats are out of the question unless stated otherwise by wardrobe. there was a lovely ring to the clippety clop of the heels against the cobbles though, and somehow made me feel a little like a horse.

so many places, a sea of faces. soaking in the sights and sounds as if there was no tomorrow was the game of day everyday whilst trying to get by making it through each day. each did get more difficult than the last, unbelievably unexpected, but true, especially with all that went on.

belgium reminded me of my not so faraway european nest, and a sweet housemommy who was missed very dearly, and so had dropped her a text to say a little hi and to tell her she was missed. pity there was no time in between shooting to do much else, or would probably have been tempted to hop on a plane or boat or bus or whatever would have taken me there for a good old fashioned hug to tell her that much. so little time, so much to do. though belgium was not my city of dreams, it was nonetheless irrevocably a place no less beautiful for all it was worth, and a temporary utopia for what and when little it could be. au revoir belgium, thank you for the magical spell of enchantment you casted in your seductive street lights, charming cafes, lonely lanes, and alluring air, even if it was short lived, and very much just that of one moment in time of ineffable affinity.

so sick...

so sick...

that something as necessary as drinking water is a chore onto itself.

that something as natural as breathing is painfully difficult.

that want for a worser condition seems ironically better than this sapping limbo.

that yearning for a chasm to fall into becomes inherently quintessential.

that what is of now feels right though it probably sounds downright sickly bizarre.

that being this ill is an actual respite.

that being is a punishment unto itself.

that delusion precedes all else.

the inevitable fall...

as the dimming lights shrank sprightly small...

made it to the final curtain call...

standing tall...

and after the tight reined hold of all within...

the threatening spill came with closing nightfall...

exhaustion beyond that could make any proud figure crawl...

the inevitable fall...

let me...

"let me win, but if i cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt."

that certainly ain't an easy feat to manage, that much is for sure. so special olympic and olympians, thank you, for this one very precious lesson that was taught in a time of long ago.

close girlfriend's wedding...

crazy busy schedule from rehearsals and all almost tore me away from attending a close girlfriend's wedding whom had promised to go for ages ago. the small affair was nothing short of beautiful, and really could not be happier for the couple given that they were really the epitome of perfect imperfection, intertwined to breathe a whole new definition into what it means to have lives meant to be melded together.

best part would probably be the fact that there is actually a part two to it, very much like a sequel indeed, and god knows what that would be like when it happens. until then, bet it does not get any whackier than the uber cool wedding entrance with the whole entourage dancing down the aisle. makes me think back on my own crazy impulsive moments where there was this temptation to yell out "happy new year" in the church when the clock struck the auspicious hour of midnight where the new year was being ushered in with the church bells striking its twelve rings in slow sureness, with the entire congregation in golden silence, the atmosphere in an unbelievable ethereal peace.

well, in my defence, this little one was eight then and thought that would be pretty cool since it has never been done before, though that would probably have shamed my parents into wanting to go into hiding in the himalayas for the rest of their living days. that was never done, though there has been many a time where the "what if..." was pondered about. after all, insane antics like these are certainly once in a lifetime, irreplaceable, and very much unforgettable.

build up...

an ominous feeling, that weird sense of knowing, of when the end would be.

a sight foreseen, far beyond human comprehension, where the build up of what is, would somehow become, what would eventually land up as, with each step an impending move towards calamity.

what then and where after that one ineludible capitulation???

is...

many a day, there is this one thought that creeps up in all its silence, after lying in complete stillness, dormant, patiently waiting, waiting for an opportunity to pounce that random surprise that would throw me totally off balance. many a time, it never fails to do so. no reason why.

nevertheless, a fortuitous tidbit like this would somehow conveniently pop on by, inadvertently reminding me of that one lesson often carelessly forgotten. and somehow, somewhere, along the way, another is conveniently stringed along. times like these make me question if there really is such a thing known as an arbitary incident, or if such instances actually play into a "chance happening" where it is, in all actuality, just another micropiece of a gigantuan puzzle.

we are not really all that different, neither are we all that similar. if so, what are we really then??? or rather, think the bigger, as well as more prelevant, question is actually about the "who", and not so much the "what".

somehow, for some strange reason, the old man spoke to me, in that tiny instant, when he told the girl to close her eyes. it brought me back to that one moment in time, where it was once possible to actually play a piano piece, and an examination piece at that, with my eyes shut. remembered my piano teacher telling me to just let my fingers glide over the black and white keys, as it instinctively would, and just, well, go by feel. in my mind, it was deemed mission impossible. however, apparently, it was not quite so. not only was the piece played blindly, it was, miraculously, executed flawlessly. a high distinction was scored for that particular piano practical examination. it was the very first, and sadly, also the very last. that said, this one off, is probably better off far buried beneathe the sands of time, coming under the category of "an accident" that belongs in a time, of too long ago.

perhaps, it is imperative, and time, to be that little child once more. or is it importunate to leave it all behind, and be that little child no more??? or perhaps, it is what it is.

crash landing...

crash landing into a deck of black and white...

a catalysmic soul shattering obscured in frightfully chaotic sight...

nothing more than life's sacrilegious concetto and contemptuous slight...

touch down...

touch downs used to have, albeit only very little, a sense of welcome, no matter where they were. do not get me wrong, for really am a fond lover of the beautiful blue skies, just that, there is something this inexplicable feeling about touch downs. pity it ain't enough for me to want to kiss the ground, no as yet that is.

mayhap it is to do with that know of coming to a snug hug to make the hateful tears and fears go away, even if for that teeny bit. mayhap it is to do with that know of a fond catch up on all that has been missed in the midst of neverending spontaneous changes. mayhap it is to do with that know of a life beyond.

the plane still lands without much of a hitch. the walk through those gates are as they were, yet, something in the air, something about the touch down, is, just, somehow, no longer. such is the extent of the disconnection.

another...

another to add...

another who left...

another unexpected goodbye...

flight...

in perilous plight...

getting outta sight...

gonna take flight...

foolish clown...

endless days trawling all around...

pattering raindrops on the ground...

without a sight...

without a sound...

once again the foolish clown...

smarty pants...

to non celebrating non chalant bored out of your wits smarty pants, happy birthday you, sorry, make that happy belated birthday. and you can jolly well go "parabéns para mim". go figure.

too tired...

one gets really tired when the yammering from all the drilling by the construction upstairs kills what little of one's sleep over the period of god knows how many days by now.

one is exceptionally tired at the thought of being the probable cause of someone's want of death.

just really too goddamn tired for anything by half.

gone wrong...

days like these make life beyond painful. something is up in the air, and everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. a dark cloud is hovering over my angel, and it is worrying, very worrying, though the worst part, is probably knowing it was, no, is all my fault.

splash...

work trips can be both business and pleasure, if the former is completely accomplished, and the latter in monitored moderation. one thing is for sure, the weekend was quite a splash, in more ways than one. was one of those lucky ones who had the better and worst end of the stick all at once, but guess it could be considered all part of the fun, if one can genuinely think of hitting the waters, no, make that being flung and go flying into the waters, not once, but twice, from a banana boat ride due to mischievous sabotage from the boat man, and having the body pretty much battered and bruised from the hard hits.

pretty much was up the whole weekend work trip doing a little unexpected caretaking, now it is just a matter of crossing the fingers that there is no further whiplash from the happenings. if anything, the girlfriend was right in saying "alcohol and girls equal trouble", though in honesty, think "free flow alcohol and girls equate to disaster waiting to happen" is more like it. it is a record in itself that there ain't no body count, though the aftermath ain't much of a pretty sight either.

that said, the beautiful beach scenary and some of the nicer bits of the schedule that was gotten for the shooting totally made up for all the icky misgivings. a powdery sandy beach, with sand creamy white and unbelievably soft that my feet were in foot heaven, not to mention the aquamarine crystal clear blue waters by the shore, and the gradients of blue spanned across the sea. a wondrous sight beyond description indeed, and with it, an unexpected reminder of promises unfulfilled, and unrealized dreams.

such splendour with its twinge of simplicity is definitely more than enough to want to head back again for a short getaway on my own, just to have time and space away from it all, and somehow find headway with where things are going, or seem to be at least. and perhaps, just perhaps, sense and sensibility will all come crashing back, with a renewed clarity, just like those very waters, in sure repetitive waves against the shore. and in a reluctant departure, the troubled worries will unwittingly, somehow or other, be left behind.

everything of late has been pretty much like mortal combat, and survival of the fittest is getting a little too tired for liking. a rat race this is, and a bloody brutal one at that. wonder if would eventually end up making some big splash, alongside an eyecatching headliner going, "dead for nothing".

spoilt surprise...

rushed like mad after the overnight work trip so as to be able to celebrate mommy's birthday with her, even if it is only for those last few minutes before the clock strikes twelve. well, made it back in time, with a little surprise on the side for her, only for the cat to be let out of the bag, by an all too practical daddy who did not think twice despite the specific reminders to keep mom. it really bummed me and took the surprise out of "surprise" literally, especially after all the effort to try to get it done somehow.

it was not very much, just a simple cake and a softly sung song. one can only hope that mommy did not mind that it was that drib drab given all the last minute happenings. at least it can be said, without all the fancy ado, in all its true plainness, it is with all one's well wishes and love.

moral of the story, never ever trust your daddy to keep a surprise, it can only get spoilt. that aside, got to give him credit for coming to pick me up so that am able to make it back before the cinderella hour, so guess that cancels out his undoing. so yes, once again, happy birthday mommy.

done...

sleepless nights once more for awhile now, but a relatively good thing in view of what is to come. do more in less, that would indeed be the best. perhaps it is time to churn out the sleeping ungodly habits and make full use of what little time there is.

comments of "you are smaller" came and went flying over more than once, the gastric flu is cleaning me out rather nicely, so there is a clear gastrointestinal system at the very least. did a job at night and really danced. a little too rusty for the liking, and creaky to be sure, but apparently a dancing sprite spirit hidden somewhere.

ride was a smite longer than usual, perhaps because there was a haunting want, somehow, to drive everything away. a little furry cuddly came acrawling, managing to finally find its way back. as the nights turn into days, and go passing by in a subtle blur, cuddle up to my odd shaped butterball it will be for whatever little comfort there could be offered in a tenacious squeeze, with it behind in a tiny crevice at the back of the mind, that after all that has been said and done, it is really, genuinely, finally, done.

a walk in the rain...

some things will happen, as some of them will. no when, no why and not even how. nothing at best

love rainy days and stormy nights, huffing winds and wet roads. cools the air and soothes the soul. a silent walk, so stealthily slow, a walk in the rain to fool the pain.

teardrops from heaven, above the skies. a night of deep and quiet sighs. rain, rain, my dearest rain, please feel free to come again.

nowhere around...

without a rhyme or word, my broken handed angel has gone missing and is nowhere around, taking flight without even a goodbye. worrying, extremely worrying. crying.

crash...

when things go bad, as they always will. it makes one think, and go all still. how is it that the car suspensions went, with the added airbag explosion, and still in that crash, why did this one not become road kill???

the redundancy of existence remains to be seen as a gift of life. never mind good intentions, they will always be deemed as pretentious. screw good will, it will only cause some nasty spill.

there is no right, there is no wrong. there is no point, been all along. when it spins all out of control, perhaps there will be a crash once more, a crash and burn, a hope that soon.

tummy rampage...

the stomach has pretty much started its own version of the french revolution yet again. thankfully managed to keep it all in without making a fugly mess when out with the parents and godsiblings for dinner. unfortunately, it just decided to make a dormant retreat for all of a stinking day.

it is pretty much back to the norm of everything that goes in will end up out, be it up and down. unexpectedly got pretty bad to the point it was like the first few days where the fingers and legs just degraded into a bowl of jello that typing a text takes too many minutes to count and pressing on the keys just takes too much strength. well, good thing out of it all, is that the gastrointestinal system is getting a major free overhaul with the cleansing session from the impromptu detoxification, though do not really fancy turning into a sickly shade of green.

never thought there would be a day where would say that the smell of food is revolting, literally. moreover ain't funny that no brainer boyfriends, or pea brainers to give them the benefit of the doubt, can actually shoot the all time insipidly stupid question if am preggers with the display of "pregger" symptoms. oh well, the tummy rampage is still ongoing, although seriously, parking in the bathroom ain't quite exactly my idea of fun, even if there is a tremendous love for holing up in my own cubbyhole.

unveiling...

the unveiling begins...

the unheralded sighted...

the mystery exposed...

as silence abates...

a show awaits...

sight out of the blue...

it has been quite awhile since the last time a dream popped into sight in the middle of sleep. two possible explanations to that, one being the scientific one where one's mind is just too overactive for its own good that it overrides into the sleep system later on when the body decides to get shut eye, and two being the never believed but happens time travel so that there would be the pop up dejavu feeling in the future, or the old "something is happening to someone me know who is close to me". well, going with the history of how the dodo's life has been, the conclusion naturally fell into the pachinko pocket of the last bit of an option.

it is certainly not one signs up for, but it is what it is, has been what it has been. the worst part is probably knowing that nuts can be done despite knowing, albeit an unconventional way, what is going on, of sorts. that said, weird blue moon jack in the box dreams with no particular or specific meaning for the matter can drive anyone absolutely nuts, especially when the encountered person in it yesternight is completely unexpected.

talk about a sight out of the blue. that has to be randomity at its best, not. not looking forward to the part when everything fast forwards somehow and am going to be hit with finding out what the dream means, not to mention that nagging little bit of why, unexplained just really does not cut it.

shower woes...

taking a shower like the olden time samsui female, via the hand bucket, ain't exactly my idea of fun. unfortunately, little can be done when the shower faucet decided to quit and fall apart a few days back. without much of a choice, or any choice for the matter, had to fall back on taking a shower the old fashioned way, just that was not wrapped up in a sarong and standing by the well or riverside.

the regular shower was not too bad. it was the hair washing that drove me absolutely nuts. doing it by the hand bucket method certainly takes quite some skill, am just thanking god the hot water did not die on me at the same time.

am totally relieved that the problem has been fixed, probably to the point that might have kissed the bathroom floor in all gladness, almost that is. well, got to say that it was quite an experience for all the inconvenience, though the bigger lesson learnt was to never take modern technology and its usefulness for granted, especially since the dependence on it is enough to cripple one to tears with the frustration caused. if anything, guess the only good that can come out of this incident, is that saved a little on the water bill this month.

washing machine...

the stomach decided to go on strike and go down with a flu bug. one thing is for sure, gastric flu ain't stomach friendly. pretty much feel like a human washing machine with everything on a perpetual spin cycle. looks like the bug would take no courtesy and stick around like a bloody leech since it has decided to visit, yucks. on second thought, make that double yucks.

clouds...

cosette sang that there is a castle on a cloud, but in truth, there is really none there, so there can be little comfort in a place, that fails to exist, where there can be no crying there. reality really does bite the dust, so little wonder why cosette was set with the task of sweeping floors. there is no room for sweet dreams, what more of sound sleep.

raised up on clouds to see the skies, just as one tries and opens one eyes, and touch the stars once admired from afar. that, is all but a fancy illusion and a foolhardy chase, because all it takes, is a drop to the ground, and fall on one's face. wonder what really hurts more, or rather, if it even hurts at all.

time to get the head out of the clouds. time to get the feet on the ground. time for dreams to die and end.

home...

missing home...

missing the splendour of fireworks...

happy birthday...

good shoes...

there are no cinderella moments in this lifetime, and one should never ever expect such. with the fact in mind that there is no such thing as a happy ending, it does make fodder for thought if that is why trying is hard, and more often than not, futile as well. or rather, is it probably the feeling of it that is the tough, or tougher part to chew and digest.

"one must always possess a good pair of shoes, for a good pair of shoes will take you places", somewhere along those lines. heard that from god knows where, but for some inane reason, it has somewhat insidiously decide to stay stuck in my head. strange as it might sound, it does actually make sense, cow sense probably, but it does, in a roundabout sort of way, and if so, then reckon my good shoes are yet to be found, because in all honesty, there ain't no perfect fit.

these shoes are made for walking, and that is what they will do. one of these days, these shoes are gonna walk all over you. that, and more.

those itchy hands...

those itchy hands were deserving of a sentence no less than that of decapitation. the idiot of those itchy hands was probably itching for a deed of emasculation in cold blood. those itchy hands "acting" on such behavior, even if under the influence of alcohol, is inexcusable, no matter how, no matter what.

those itchy hands should have digits brutally broken at every single joint, with those metacarpels crushed, and probably also run over by an old smoking train running on coal, smashed into calcium shards beyond repair. those itchy hands should have every running arteriole, venule and capillary snapped like that of broken violin strings. those itchy hands should have every muscle fibre picked at, pulled at and twisted with steel forceps.

the idiot of those itchy hands should have been made a modern day eunuch for the better good of every female for no female should ever be subjected to such degradation and disrespect. the worst part, is not just the feeling of disgust that arises for such lowlives, but rather, that for one's being and gender alongside the shame and resentment. the world is unfair indeed, and this is just one of the many loathed bits of it.

a gentleman's bliss...

unforgettable moments that were simply beyond description, are all that can be said about big brother barney's wedding. it has been years since last saw godbrother barney, and the next monumental time we did meet, had to be his red letter day. time is really slipping by.

big brother barney is really a little like barney the dinosaur, in terms of longitudinal size that is. he has goddaddy benny's giant stature and is massively tall, though skinny like a beanpole and not all that huggable, though goddaddy benny was alot more huggable given his love for food, what more with godmommy brenda being a top notch cook. giants they may appear to be, but there is nothing, in the least, intimidating about them at all. if anything, it can only be said that there is a quiet strength in these two gentlemanly softhearted giants me know from the beginning of time, or at least, in the beginning of my knowing them. perhaps the term "pillars of strength" is more apt. guess that would make them pretty good candidates for the infamous name of "twin towers".

quiet as a church mouse, literally, big brother barney was a boy of few words, and a man of fewer words. think any of our conversational exchanges in my lifetime, can be easily counted on two hands, tops. the number of questions in each conversation would only make one hand at most, with the answers to those questions, in counted words, making up the fingers of the other hand, with the out of the blue, rarer than the blue moon, answer having words, in a sentence, making up my twenty fingers and toes, maximum.

the wedding speech, had him talking more than have ever heard in my whole lifetime, literally. that was and will probably be the only time where will ever hear big brother barney have a case of verbal diarrhoea. and apparently, he did not just have verbal diarrhoea. he also sang, in front of a whole church of people, for the new wife. this part surprised even my godparents and godsisters, let alone the friends. they would never ever think he was even capable of singing. that was how underused his larynx and pharynx was. seriously, either it is the bride, or he is making up for lost time. if you ask me, honestly think it is the bride. well, good for him if it is really so, because it must be and has got to be one of those made in heaven matches that is going to and will work out.

even more unbelievable, was catching big brother barney tearing in his wedding video when he was saying his wedding vows. of course there was also that momentous scene, secretly captured, where goddaddy benny was tearing, again. beautifully tearjerking, not to mention heartwarming to actually see the emotions behind those tears of two very dear gentle giants, if not for the fact my tearducts are out of order and have none to fall. although have never met the wife, let alone talk to her, the first time being that three seconds where got to express my heartfelt congratulations at the farewell door line up, this is one red string that was not wrongly tied, thank god. could not be happier for big brother barney, even if he failed to recognize me. nothing new, considering it is just another one of those things that has been happening a fair bit more than normal, as usual, especially when little boy ain't just one feet tall no more. all in all, one week ago, it was a day of a gentleman's bliss, in every sense of the word, pun intended.

sleepless...

sleepless on a crepuscular island...

stuck in a dreary dream...

nights into days...

days into nights...

seamlessly ceaseless solitude...

swine flu...

it certainly ain't everyday that one hears a girlfriend contracting the ongoing epidemic of a bug. it, all the more, ain't quite the best of news to hear that another girlfriend is quarantined and hospitalized while in suspicion of it. the worst part was probably only knowing after the whole fiasco had happened and was long over, by like a day, of which it was the day after she was discharged.

if anything, it does makes me wonder if one should be more wary of the flu, especially since mommy just came back from hongkong with a damn bug, not to mention a boyfriend who got stuck in some infested reservist camp for a few extra days due to the new out of the blue popups. first mommy, then girlfriend, and now me. yes, am sort of coming down with abit of a bug yet again, it ain't my fault that the game of "musical chair" flu can be oh so fun.

cannot help but love to, want to and am extremely tempted to sneeze right now in some public area with a sea of gazillions swarming about, just for the fun of watching people part like the red sea. this is one more valid reason to hate pork. goddamn swine flu.

outfit misfit...

think it can be said that am born to be ousted in this lifetime to be an outfit misfit. wardrobe problems first happened a couple of weeks back, and somehow just became the subsequent pattern of norm there after at every possible occurrence. not funny.

saturday was me playing santa claus lugging a gigantuan assed duffel bag of shoes and clothes around. was not the first time and really doubt it would be the last, just that it gets pretty taxing on the shoulders and back as the bag has a tendancy to increase in dimension due to the crazy demands. five pairs of bottoms, couple of which were old loved baggy jeans, and three pairs of shoes, non inclusive of the jeans and shoes that was wearing, totally made my day, not. this is considering that the whole team decided not to use any of the shoes in the end because they were competitor brands and there would be a branding problem. poking needles into voodoo dolls with the team's hair strands, nail clippings or epidermal layers in them became the most tempting notion of the day.

my changeabout with the outfit during the last assignment, last minute once again, was another "wheee" incident. this time it was two bottoms, five tops and two pairs of shoes in the "magical doraemon" bag. thank god there was a bag size downgrade this time around, because seriously, any further upgrades will kill my aging and getting more brittle by the day crooked spine.

not to mention the constant change of dresses couple weeks back in the wardrobe unit or at the shoot. those few minutes slipping in and out of sewn together bits of satin, silk or chiffon probably had me in more dresses than can be accounted for in my whole lifetime put together, and yes, even counting in the baptismal baby outfit as well in my pint sized stages. talk about major skin crawl.

the conclusion from the outfit fiascos that have happened to date??? for one, it allows me to totally comprehend why stylists lug around baggage trunks. outfit chaos is really just a suitcase solution away, only if it is provided and even exists to begin with. two, to probably seriously consider the thought of carrying all that "necessary" junk around in a trolley suitcase. three, to pray for a bloody miracle when it comes to fitting sessions so that future headsplitting migraines can somehow be downgraded to a dull bad throb at most.

magic...

it ain't an everyday event getting an assignment that is celebrity studded, especially when it is one of such big scale that even the "entertainment" is flown in. certainly unexpected and a huge ass bonus if you ask me, especially when one is paid to work and gets to watch. of course, minus the screwups here and there, everywhere actually to be more precise.

bumped into quite a few familiar old faces. could not be recognized as usual, probably due to the size difference, alongside the same old "before and after extreme makeover" trick. it is always fun surprising people in such a way, my cheap thrill, sadly.

everyone was probably more mesmerized by the korean actress from some latest drama serial, while fantasizing fluffy daydreams of getting together with the local hot bod paul foster, or the specially flown in sizzling magician. paul was a real doll in honesty, be it in speech or mannerism. thank god there are people out there with manners and down to earth attitudes.

cyril did indeed work his magic, dazzling the ladies, as usual, and swept them off their feet, so much so they were pretty much looking to be walking on cloud nine. got to give it to him that he is bloody good in his trade. then again, he has to be, or else he would not have been flown in to stage a performance here.

before that, none of the girls knew nor cared two hoots who the hell cyril takayama was. think they probably had several second, and third, thoughts after the night was over, though cannot say the same for the guys. staying in the background as much was the modus operandi as usual, watching the whole world go by. and boy does it get entertaining from the sidelines, especially when one catches the guys having a case of sour grapes with the whole alpha male testosterone raging "competition" going on the moment the other girls start primping and going positively gaga over cyril, not to mention the massive bitch fight going on between two groups of girls. lesson of the night though, just do not be the one to get entangled into the mess of a bitch fight, because it really is a bitch to be in. and yes, to put a face to the name to who the hell cyril is.

faceless...

ever heard of the saying that there is person somewhere around the other side of the world who is technically, in a roundabout way, your non biological twin, considering the "imitation" is a walking replica of you??? ever had another person go, "you look like so and so"??? in all seriousness, am pretty sure that happens at least once, at the very least, in this lifetime, what more the possible others, if other lifetimes even exist in the first place that is.

believe it or not, have heard and had the "you look like so and so" bit a little too often for comfort in this recent period. not to say that it ain't a compliment to say the very least, considering the "so and so" names that have been thrown out are pretty, well, prominent. and if in the case one does happen to be genetically gifted and blessed with some sort of penny's worth of semblance to those few famed "so and so" beings, thankfully human, then one ought to feel honored, not to mention complimented, no???

if anything, if anything at all, compliment aside, one only ends up feeling as if one does not have a face to call one's own. goes to show, that perhaps, one ain't quite so unique after all, and a face, is no more than a template of a blank palette with contours of a pair of eyes and ears, a nose and a mouth that can be construed to look like another with skillful deft brush strokes of facial paint. at the end of the day, one is just, well, to put it bluntly, faceless, and there is no me to begin with.

a little low...

a little low on brain juice...

a little low on energy...

a little low on blood pressure and glucose too...