Beneath My Skin

he had been waiting for this day. it was arranged some time ago and he was looking forward to it. mental preparations had been made and he had psyched himself up for it. it is not the first time. but it is gonna create a greater impact than the previous times.

he recallled how big an issue it had become the last time it happened. he was on the news, radios, magazines and literally everywhere in the world. he even appearead in some toys and t-shirts. this time, it must create a bigger bang than that.

they had arranged for it to come in 2 days' time. adrenalin was rushing thru his veins and he couldnt sleep at all as the date draws near. the collapse of the buildings, the scurrying pple, the dying cries, the cloud of dust that resembles the atomic bomb of the World War etc. it may seem sadistic to others, but to him, he is doing it for the greater good.

he got out of his bed each day thinking abt the day thats gonna come. its gonna come soon, hopefully. hopefully it would not be foiled again like many of those that happened before. contrary to popular belief, he is not the mastermind of all the operations. he is a mere scapegoat. he awaits instructions obediently and patiently while his thirst for blood and battle hunger is about to drive him crazy.

Now its drawing closer. Even closer than before. Just 1 more day.


'Osama?'

'Yes?'

'An instruction had been passed down. The operations scheduled for tommorrow had been postponed.'


He was dumbfounded. He sort of expected it though. It had happened before and so he should expect it to happen again. He had worried for nothing. The adrenalin were wasted for nothing. The sleepless nights were totally uncalled for again. At least it is just postponed. Another date would be given and it can still be executed. Well, he just hopes that it is not cancellled.

He walked into his prayer room, sat down and meditated.

he is sometimes known as Gary. or Jerry. sometimes Jeremy or Terry. or any other names he could think of at that pt in time. hes like a chameleon, without a fixed identity. one moment he is just a person picking up a call, the next moment he is the manager, the next moment he is an admin staff. who is he really? are they all the same?

he is seldom what his IC says he is, unless its pple he already knows. even to those who know him, not all know him as his real name. some addresses him by his surname. he knows who he is. he prefers to be someone he is not.

he would rather be Gary, Jerry, Jeremy, Terry or anyone else out there. someone that no1 has any expectations of. someone that has no responsibilities.

each time the fone rings, he is preparing himself for a new identity. so far, Tenacious hasn't shown up yet. wonder what would the caller's reaction be if Tenacious were to answer the calls. but that would almost never happen. its just not appropriate.

geishas hide their true self behind their painted faces. he hides himself beneath his skin, under the facade of these different names.

i m not leaving afterall. yes i m extremely tired, but i would carry on. perhaps sometimes i m too harsh with myself, putting too much pressure and expectations on myself. i have to realise that i m afterall human, and i do need help. i used to think that i m a blackhole, that i have an unlimited capacity to consume everything that comes along. i thought that i would never burn out. seriously, i have never felt burnt out before in my life.

i cannot turn away a fren's plea. i noe that if i quit, it is the end. there is no replacement. no1 can take over from me, at least at this point in time. if i quit, he would stand to lose much more. i have come this far, surely a lil more wouldnt harm. i appreciate his understanding.

now i m back again. like a phoenix reborn. i will come back stronger than ever before.

'i get knocked down
but i get up again
and u're never gonna take me down'

nothing can cut me now. my skin is now lined with diamond, even the sharpest object wun be able to penetrate. i will never be brought down again. 1 day to recharge, and i m ready for the bullet train race.

i may not be able to complete a marathon sprinting the first 2 km at top speed. it was a foolhardy move i took. i suffered the consequence of my own temerarious decision. now i would pace it well, and once again i would be the bastion of strength, the impenetrable fortress.

and so it ended. slightly more than a year. it is kinda sad to leave. it is painful but necessary. it has been taking too much out of me. i m not superman. yes i m the champion of the world, but i m only human. theres still a limit. i was stretched beyond my limit. i m terribly drained now.

i know i have endless amounts of energy. in sec sch, i bring in more than 1400 bucks in 2 days of jobweek almost every year. not by luck or wad, but by mere endurance and determination. at mt biang, i carried the load nobody wanted to carry for 2 days. i din die. i can sleep for 1 hr and wake up the next day doing work for H and is still sober. sometimes i really think this energy would last me forever. i would like to think so too.

it sounds damn fun and slack to tell pple that u have a 2 day week. but does anyone know what it means? they think i m some stupid young punk who just wanna slack at home and play computer rite... they think i dun give a flying fark abt my studies.. when i said that i want to get first class honours they think that i m talking shit.. who really knows the meaning behind them? who knows whats really hidden beneath my skin?

my dream is to be a psychologist.. has been this for many years. cos i think my family is farked, and i dun want other families to be farked. so i wanna be a psychologist to unfark all the families that are already farked. i wanna help pple to get outta their emotional troubles. perhaps at the start it is already all wrong. my family is farked so how can i expect myself to help? i m emotionally unstable and always have the weirdest and most ridiculous views ever so how can i expect to give others good advice?

perhaps a dream will always remain as a dream. i know i need my masters if i wanna be a psychologist, and the only way for a pauper like me to do masters is to get a scholarship. the only way to that is to get first class honours. i suppose no1 knows that i m really damn serious abt it. maybe i only want and wish that i m serious abt it, but i cant actually do it. its true that i cant actually do it. its true.

the past sem's grades were a disaster. why? cos i really have no time to study, till the very last part.. i have 24 hrs a day but i dun have much of those hrs to myself. most of the time are either spent doing things for H, thinking of what H needs, planning what H would require me to do... H H H H H H H H..... i have no complaints. when i give my 100% i dun expect to receive 1% of grattitude from anyone. cos i give it free of charge, willingly.

everyone told me to prioritise properly. i refused to listen. i said H and sch are on equal standings. in practice, theres no sch. theres only H. i packed my timetable to 2 days a week. so that the rest of the time is all H's. 10am-6 pm without a break in between. does it sound fun? does it sound slack?

i said i quit smoking. and yea i did quit. its not difficult. its a piece of cake. only H can cause me enough problems to pick it up again. this is damn shit.

at least it is over. i have emailed him. i hope he would not try to ask me to stay.. knowing him, i think he would. knowing myself, i think i might give in. at the end of the day, it might actually not be over. but i think its over for me.

it has been deluding him for the past few mths. so far sleep hasn't been too bad. not really getting insomnia as often now, occasionally he still manages to have undisturbed sleep though sometimes he would wake up at odd times in the middle of the night. but he has not got any nightmares. or dreams. for mths.

he wonders how his friends are doing at lalaland. it had been such a long time. he wished he could meet them to catch up, whether or not the situation over there had improved, or gone for the worse. no news is good news. so he is inclined to think on the positive side. even if the worst do happen, there is nothing he can do, unless he can get back in there. he can only wait. it is extremely stressful to wait, expecting an undesirable outcome. optimism would do him more good than anything else.

still, sometimes its inevitable. maybe they really are going through bad times, the worst that they had ever experienced. so bad that they had no means to get through to him for help.

he tossed and turned under his blanket. eventually, he shut out all thoughts from his mind, and let himself rest.



the next day began like any other day. he was on his daily routine, going on his way to work. the streets were unusually busy and everyone were gathering in groups, all muttering something to each other, as though there is a new hot topic to talk abt in town. wad else could be new and interesting in this world? elections? terrorists attacks again? earthquakes? he sniggered to himself. meaningless superficialities.

a little young girl walked past him, holding her mother's hand and licking on a lollipop. she was describing her dream to her mother in such enthusiasm.

'i saw donald duck and mickey mouse. they brought me to a candy palace and eat M&Ms from trees! they told me that im their princess!!'

'yes dear, but its a dream. candy dun grow on trees. u noe it dear.'

'its real. they told me its real! and they say they would bring me back there again!'

'alrite alrite. tell me abt it again when u get back there okay?'


the little young girl has dreams. she had been there. people are still going there. at least thats a good sign, he thought to himself. '...its a dream...' the mother's words stayed for a moment in his mind. yeah. so what if its a dream? cant a dream be real? what makes this world more real than the dream world? sigh. ignorance is bliss. choosing to disbelieve is never a bad choice.

if only he can convince himself that skepticism is the logical and rational way to think of dreams. he knows he cant because he had been through it. as he was thinking about this, something furry took his hand. he turned and saw a rabbit!

'Balbus! goodness gracious! how did u come here???'

'lets go somewhere.'


the rabbit scurried into a small alley and he followed. they entered a small house and went into one of the rooms.

'Joe.. it's been a while.. '

'Balbus, wads going on? if u are here, wad abt the rest? and are those pple coming too?'

'its a matter of time before all of them finds out. candies from trees are already melting over there.. ice cream sometimes now melt on sunny days. some times we cant do certain things even when we imagine very hard that we could do them.. its no longer the same'

'why is this the case?'

'cos no1 believes now. they think that their dreams are not real. even when they are dreaming, they think they are not real. when they come over here, their skepticism is especially draining for us. when there is no more clear line between us and them, every1 wil have to suffer the consequence. by then they would know not even know that we are real. when the Nightmares enter the waking world and run havoc, it would just reinforce their impression that dreams arent real and are a waste of time.'

when people dream, it is not just a flicker of thought going through the brain when they are sleeping, though most people now think so. every1 is living in the world, be it in the waking world or the dream. the distinction could be made because the balance is maintained whenever someone goes into the dream and fully believes in it, and in the process enjoy themselves with the people there. if the balance is upset, the distinction would slowly become nothing. most people go into dreams now not fully enjoying them, some even to the extent of thinking that its a waste of their sleeping time and want to get out of the dream as soon as possible. little do they know that they are doing themselves a disfavour. if the people of lalaland cannot convince the dreamer that they are experiencing something real, the lifeforce that keeps lalaland going would slowly drain away.

now, it was made known to him that the consequence of that is the gradual extinction of lalaland altogether. the people of lalaland would soon have to cross over to the waking world. and those other people, those of the Nightmares, would follow. Right into the waking world. and people would experience the Nightmares while in the waking. When the time comes, it would be a sad thing indeed.

when lalaland disappears, the common people's idea that dreams are not real would be true. it would indeed be that dreams are non-existent. and everyone would stop having dreams altogether. the good things would never happen again, not in their sleep. bad things would come again and again, after the Nightmares fully infiltrate the waking world.

if everyone was like the little girl, if they believed in their dreams, lalaland would not be drained of her life like it is fast becoming now. Everyone believes dreams at the start. just that when they grow old, they think that dreams are for children. Children are always so happy because they believe in their dreams.


'Balbus. i have been trying to get over to see u all but to no avail.'

'maybe u know too much. the laws of nature are all made known to u and so they intend to shut u out of this game.'

'y dint u all bring me in then? i can help. getting one more person who believes in lalaland is better than getting a whole load of skeptics!'

'u believe because u knew. u din believe because u wanted to believe. wad makes u so different from the skeptics anyway? u cant fool Mother Nature. maybe u would be like them if u din know. u cant be of much help anyway. we would be better off getting people who might have a chance of believing in us.'

'so wads ur purpose here?'

'soon there would be no difference between here and there anymore. might as well come here earlier. soon i may not even be able to speak in a language u can understand. when lalaland disappears, everyone in lalaland would become what u people here expect us to be.'

'hey no we dun sell this here.. haha.. most shops usually dun carry russian brands.' the shopkeeper chuckled, almost amused by Juk's enquiry. Juk frowned and left. shld have expected it rite. how many russian brands have anyone heard of before? Yaheuh. most shopkeepers probably would ask 'What?' and would repeat the same question even if he says it again. almost unheard of. a yaheuh musical box. Juk needs it.


'no we dun have it.'

'do u know where i can get it?'

'not here.'

'if a shop happens to sell it, how much would it roughly cost?'

'cheap, hahhaa, i can tell u very cheap. that sorta brands, almost worthless ahhaha.'


worthless. so be it. Juk saw the picture of it online. an old classic wooden musical box. he wants it badly.

he had soon gone thru all the shops on the street. as expected, he had no results. he knew there was no way he could find it in the country, now that he had searched the entire street, best known for selling all sorta musical boxes available in the market.

he sensed a feeling of loss, seems like a part of himself has disappeared, and he needs to find it back, to lay his hands on the yaheuh. ever since he saw that picture 2 days ago, part of his soul had already grown too impatient, and wandered off first in search for it. not much time left, really.

he walked back all the way to the white building, face sullen. he thought there was a glimmer of hope. he thought it might be possible to find it there. perhaps the picture he saw was the closest he could ever get to. closest, yet it is still not enough. he needs to hold it in his hand and feel the weight of it on his palm. well. so what if he somehow manages to? it might not be enough. cos he would expect more to come still. he shld be satisfied, the greed of hope kills. reality is meant to disappoint, never to match the potential of realising the expectation.

enough is enough. he decided that it would be over. Juk turned the knob on the door and entered his ward. he sat on his white bed. taking the laptop from the small table beside the bed, he placed it in front of him on the bed. it took a while to start. it din take long for Juk to feel the heat of the machine on his white bedsheets. warmth. some warmth. artificial. too fake.

Juk shook his head. everything around him seems to be placed there to disappoint. he logged on to the internet and typed in the website again. he could see the beautiful description giving praise to the musical box every shopkeeper on the streets had laughed at. but the picture was no longer there. the cursor moved over to the 'refresh' button. the page was reloaded. nothing changed.

a drop of tear escaped from his right eye. a sharp pain pierced his heart. he could not control his heartbeat. all of a sudden, it seemed to go all haywire. he clutched his chest. he slipped from his bed and slumped onto the floor.

'help help!' these cries were made by those on the other beds. the doctors rushed in.

the next thing he knew, he was on his bed again. hah. still alive. he wondered how long more can he still play this cat and mouse game with Death.


'hey Juk. thank god we got in time. dun move ard too much yea? try to stay on ur bed and everything would be fine.'

'fine? wads fine? i had at most 2 mths rite? hahaha.. perhaps 2 mths would be fine.. perhaps it would be better if its shorter hahahha...'

'dun say that.. be strong k? anyway, have u got a grandson?'

'no. i m not married. u know that.'

'a small kid just asked me to pass u this. thought it was ur grandson.'


the doctor passed Juk a nicely wrapped box.


'have fun opening it. do cheer up.. i'll b off. let me know if u need anything..'

'alrite.. cya.. thanks..'


Juk smiled to himself. a grandson? a real joke if u ask him. maybe he would have a grandson if he had stayed in Russia. that was a bad thought. it suddenly brings back more memories. he tossed the box in his hand. then, he carefully peeled away the piece of paper wrapped around it. a little excitement runs in now. he opened the cardboard box. he was dumbfounded. yaheuh. he held it against his chest.

he had no control over his tears any longer. 40 years of pain.. he lied on his bed.. the memories started floating in his head. Yuri.. the musical box. the last thing he gave her before he was forced to leave. to come to this foreign land. all in hope to provide a better life for them back there. the letters never got replied after some time. when he returned, the whole house they lived in were no longer there. caught in a fire in the middle of the nite, he was told by neighbours. everything disappeared from then on. all he wanted was a better life for both of them. but he lost all that he ever wanted.

he contemplated many times to seek Death. but he knows God would condemn him and he would never ever see Yuri again. he grown all too impatient in waiting for Death's arrival. he knew he did not have to wait for long. it was about time. all the years of waiting. it is gonna come anytime now.

he hugged onto the musical box as tightly as he could.. he closed his eyes. he smiled. the heart beat again started to beat unsteadily.. faster and faster. slowed down.. faster and faster again.. faster.. too fast.. then it stopped. completely.


Yuri walked out of the hospital, holding a young boy by his hand.


'whos that old man just now, granny?'

'an old friend. dun ask so many questions. lets go home quickly. granpa's waiting.'

the train mechanically comes to a halt. the doors slid open and the ugly pple swarmed out in masses, trying to squeeze past one another as though the more they squeeze the easier they would get outta the crowd. the boy stood behind the entire mess, numb to this ridiculous scene. for a moment, he seemed to be locked out of this world. the vision of the moving crowd still stays, but the ears hear nothing except for the sound of vacuum zoning in on the ears. there was no breath. it was just for a moment, before the signals of the closing doors woke him out from his spell. he hurriedly got in between the sliding doors, which were already half closed. this sudden exertion of his leg muscles sorta shook him up a lil, an early morning boost which he so desperately needs.

it is a every-morning routine. the same train. the same dreadful ugly pple. the same stop. the same lethargy. he is not where he wants to be, maybe he is, but he is not too sure. some pple would say how lucky he is to make it there, how smart he was and how they wished they could belong there too. they know nothing. just like those pple who were already there like him, they know nothing too. he, himself, probably knows nothing too.

he is not sure what exactly his mind is thinking. it seems to be roaming around many different things, some big issues that concern humanity, some smaller issues involving people around him and some on a smaller scale, at the personal level, his own inner thoughts. roaming around these many issues, touching them a little below the surface then turning away in disgust. such dissatisfaction.

he goes through this every morning whenever he reaches the stop that says 'Buona Vista'. this same thought process that haunts him every morning haunted him again today and he was delayed by another minute on the platform, in the same daze as he was minutes before behind the closing train doors. he was standing still, staring fixedly at one invisble spot on the screen of thin air erected directly in front of his human frame. he got into the spell again.

cacophony of the ugly pple complaining and train doors closing signals penetrated his ears. he breathed in some air. but his eyes were still fixed at that invisible spot. his limbs seemed to be immobilised.

he stumbled. the crowd coming out from the train that just arrived showed no mercy for him, they muscled him aside and cast some glances of displeasure at him, cursing him for his inconsideration in blocking the pathway. he shook his head. and he shook it again. he knows he got to stop daydreaming.

he walked into the crowd and blended into them. soon, he was walking the same kind of pace the ugly pple walk. he took the escalator down and exited the gantry. he went on another escalator that would bring him outta the station. he was now at the ground floor. same shit, different day. he sighed.

a few steps ahead, the Tunnel lies before him. it was fairly lit at this time. he carried on, and proceeded into the Tunnel. the smell of rotting leaves and murky drainwater pervaded his respiratory system. nothing alien. he continued walking. soon, the stench became more and more unbearable. this is the first time he is experiencing this. he thought he should have been immune to it considering this Tunnel is his routine path for 2 years already. he hastened his footsteps, not willing to put up with the smell any longer. the Tunnel seemed to be longer than usual today. it is usually only a 3 min walk, but it seemed like he had walked for ten minutes.

he stopped for a while, with his right hand covered on his nose. he looked back, and looked at the end of the Tunnel again. he is halfway through. he started walking again. the smell is suddenly gone. he let his right hand down and smiled to himself, heaving a sigh of relief. he slowed down his footsteps and began to drag his feet, walking at a leisurely pace now. he knows he is gonna be late. he doesnt care. its better to be late than to attend morning assembly.

he began to notice that the lights in the tunnel have started to dim. he looked behind him and looked at the end of the Tunnel again. he is still HALFWAY through. ??? the lights began to flicker, the stench started to come back and the walls of the Tunnel seemed to be moving in out and out of its place. he wanted to shake his head again, but he couldnt. he cant breathe. he cant smell anything. his eyes cant move. his limbs were locked. screams couldnt emerge from his throat. he was locked in a seeming forcefield.

his eyelids were suddenly forced shut. he was in darkness. he doesnt know wads going on ard him. maybe it doesnt matter. he couldnt see anyway with his eyes closed. a spark of light broke the darkness, for a second. the sound of wind. a very strong gust of wind. a big splash of light, blinding the total darkness. his pulsating nerves were no longer like choppy waters. they were now calmer than ever before. his heart beat at a steady rate.

the next moment, he saw a familiar boy wearing the same uniform as him walk into the Tunnel, and out of the Tunnel and disappeared. then he came back again, went through the Tunnel and to the station. the same boy kept walking up and down and this same scene repeatedly flashed itself to him again and again till it disturbed the serenity he had a little. the boy appeared at the end of the Tunnel again, now holding a piece of paper in his hand, walking with a group of frens, smiling in glee. they walked past him and into the station.

then a soldier started walking from the station to the end of the Tunnel and disappeared. moments later, he appeared again, at the end of the Tunnel, and walked all the way back to the station. the Tunnel became empty for some time. it seemed like a long time. no footsteps, no light, no smell, not a hint of life present in it. he stood there, still locked out of this world. wondering wads happening to himself.

he heard footsteps. he turned behind and saw a man in formal clothes walking smartly into Tunnel. he walked through it till the end and disappeared. this series of weird occurences made no sense to him.

he was waiting for the next character to appear. he waited. it is beginning to iritate him. the air becomes too stale and its getting stuffy. beads of perspiration began to form on his forehead. those beads of perspiration are causing discomfort to his skin. he cursed and muttered a vulgarity, then lifted up his sleeve to wipe off the perspiration. then he stopped.

it is over. he scratched his head. totally puzzled. he remembered that he was late for school. he lifted up his schoolbag. ??? a BRIEFCASE? he looked at himself. he was in formal clothes. wads happening? he took out his file from the briefcase and saw the documents he prepared the night earlier. he was supposed to give a speech at the graduation assembly today. he hurried towards the school. its not nice to keep the whole school waiting.

for a second, he thought about the boy standing in the Tunnel. who was that? he had no time for such questions. he took bigger steps and made his way to the school as quickly as he could.

1 year ago was when it all started. I would think that it was started on impulse, perhaps others would think otherwise. come to think of it, it was done without much planning, in a rather haphazard manner. without a proper start, one cant really expect much to come out of it. the effects of insufficient planning soon hit us. we had no idea who we were up against, what are the possibilities. closet plannning is really silly, looking back. targets were set, but till now we were nowhere close. unrealistic expectations, made realistic only by our own ignorance and fantasies.

maybe gotta thank Lady Luck, or maybe gotta thank me for being the Champion of the World, somehow, we managed to get on track. a little.. before more poor planning come back to haunt us again. underestimation of costs, frivolous expenditures, biting off more than what we could chew.. a bit too anxious, too impatient..

suddenly, a spate of problems started throwing themselves at us.. never rains but it pours.. people coming and leaving.. people who said they would come but never came.. people who wanted to leave but stayed on... people who wanted to stay but somehow left.. transitions after transitions...

perhaps the Tarot reader was right.. theres just some mysterious force that seem to steer us outta trouble.. whenever theres a problem, the solution always aint too far away.. may not be easy, but it is eventually attainable.. never had a situation occurred where no solutions could be found..

plunged to the lowest point 2-3 mth's back... effects of poor planning again.. seriously... fail to plan, plan to fail.. sometimes.. things cant be forced.. cannot means cannot.. a pebble is a pebble, if u insist that it becomes a turtle egg somehow, perhaps pple may try to convince themselves that the pebble may indeed be a turtle egg, but eventually, the turtle would not crawl outta the pebble. no1's fault, really... too immature, too impatient, too rash.. again..

miraculously, we bounced back again.. now its like things are brighter than before... irrelevant expenditures were cut greatly, not exactly by choice though.. still, it is rather tight.. in fact, more tight than ever before..

it seems like its bright, yet tinges of darknesses occasionally pops out behind the shade of brightness to make it seem not that great at all.. this sorta weird weather that u dunno if its considered a sunny day or a cloudy day.. perhaps its a sunny cloudy day.. at least its not a rainy day..

wonder how i fell so sick... tom yam noodles for supper, then breakfast, then dinner and then supper again... plus some pineapple tarts in between... just like that and i fell sick.. must be the damn weather... the weather nowadays really siao... this is farking singapore, an equitorial region lar.. the weather shld bloody hell noe his role and stick to the rules man... goddamn raining everyday... think must be ben that day come my house blast the fan at nite then make me so damn sick now...

started off with a sorethroat, then became giddiness and fever... this morning all of a sudden i kena diarrhoea!!!! wtf man... totally no relation man.. how can a sorethroat, giddiness and fever be the symptoms to an impending diarrhoea??? furthermore i din even eat much the day before.. cos i was feeling so sick, i only had 1 bowl of fish noodles, sugar cane juice and soya bean the whole day..

diarrhoea is one of the worst shit in the world man.. literally.. u dun even noe whether its in a solid or liquid state and its really bad shit.. at first i thot it was just some gas, but the process of diarroearisation suddenly chose to step in and within seconds, the gas become some weird mixture of liquid and solid.. i thought no 21 year old would do this sorta shit in his pants.. i was proven wrong 5 times.. 5 times!!!! wadahell. kena one stealth attack by diarrhoearisation when i was sleeping halfway too... wtf man..

at least now the fever is gone, but still damn scared of the stealth assasin.. dunno when he will strike again...

for some strange reasons, i m blogging. i din realised till now that i had a previous blog, with like only 2 entries. i suppose this one may end up the same. strangely, some guy left a comment at my previous blog.... (hey thank u for reading, if u happen to see this as well)

the last entry of my previous blog was abt tidying up my room.. man.. 21 years of my life i never knew wad tidying my room really means till a few days ago when i REALLY tidied it.. it is at its CLEANEST state ever now... eliza said wait one week and see... hey man.. this time the room cant be messed up cos theres nothing left to be messed... threw away one big cupboard, one small cupboard, old toys, old books since secondary sch days, gave away a pile of comics, threw away another pile of comics, threw away my water bag, my rope, my scout uniform, candles, a few hammocks.... and lots more rubbish...

when i told ben that my room is damn clean now, he just laughed in disbelief.. even when he finally believed that it is tidy and neat, he thinks that it would all be gone in a matter of days... it is extremely foolhardy to think in such a manner... cant believe that these pple do not even trust the saviour of their world, of THE world, to keep his own room tidy. ben is coming to my place in abt 2 hrs time.. at 2 am.. goddamn 2 am..hope i m awake still man... he will have a shock of his life when he sees how neat it is..

tidying my room is indeed a chore and it is bad for health too, physically and mentally.. the mental torture of doing a supreme test of never ending endurace, throwing items after items away, wiping away layers of dust etc... is like an endless activity. the whole room is in an extremely dusty state too, i can feel them tickling my nostrils.. perhaps that explains y i m sick now... nevertheless, it is an interesting experience.

i got to look through many items which i had but never gave a second look after chucking them in the drawers. things like, blue slips, greeting cards etc...

1. a thick wad of blue slips -

all taken during jc times... the master copy which winston hodge signed and granted me countless half days is still there lol...

2. greeting cards -

so many of them man... 1 each from ben and changyong when they were overseas... the most coming from shuwei and joanne.... shuwei sent me a strange xmas greeting this year.. dun really know wad it means, but i guess its something abt his disappointment in me not being more involved in the Group... really dunno wad to say abt that... i liked his previous one where he wrote his greetings on the back of a jigsaw and jumbled them up hehe.. joanne dint send me xmas card this year.. guess she still din wanna be my fren at that time.. at least now we were ok... called me for the past 2 days..

the one that got me laughing was a card by Ling Khoon Chow, my bio teacher in sec 4.. it said something like 'u are one of the untidiest person i have ever met. u are so messy that sometimes i feel like tearing my hair out'.. also his progress reports comments like 'i think u are quite a bright student. but y dun u wanna study?' wonder hows he doing now man...

its like one of those moments in life where u look back and reflect upon wad happened.. had plenty of these sorta moments when i was in army.. cos theres nothing else to do if u dun do that lol.... i think i have grown and matured in many ways.. though ACY always likes to say that my mental maturity never progressed beyond sec 2, i know that deep down inside him he is worshipping me like a God..

a new year, a new life? not a good way to start a new year where the first week of the year ends on fridae the thirteenth... bloody cursed number.. seems like many thigns went wrong todae... bloody housekeeper pang seh me.. say till she really wants the job and after all the arrangements she failed to turn up.. bloody hell off her fone after hearin my voice some more.. argh.... complain here and there that u got no job, then when pple give u a job, u pangseh.. not the first time already lar.. no wonder so many jobless pple out there.. i pity those who tried but really cannot get a job, but i think those, who are like the farker who pang seh me jus now, really deserved to be jobless... nothing to say man... then mark langgar again.. he damn broke already still kena this kinda shit.. dark also like claypotting lately... and ben missed his flight!!! damn cock.... miss flight then have to stay over at my house.. luckily my uncle not coming my house tonite...

problems seem to keep popping up, and there seems to be no end.. when will everything stabilise? i really wonder... at the moment, i cant seem to see the next step i m taking... the path ahead is shrouded in a thick fog, possibly caused by the rainy weather these couple of days.. plus all the dust that made my eyes watery probably blurred my vision as well... nevertheless, nothing is clear to me.. i m treading on uncertainty.. i may not be happy, its hard to be happy, but at least i think i wanna do it...