Chow for the weary.

Chow for the weary.

The humdrum of life can get to you sometimes. Nothing faintly remarkable seems to happen; but in retrospect, it is probably because we are too bogged down by weariness to put ourselves out there, open and ready for magic.

I am a creature of habit, and I often have to remind myself to step outside my comfort zone and drink in more of what life has to offer. At times, I force myself to socialize, even when all I want to do is flop on the sofa with a good book. Other times, I walk a different path home and take pleasure in the unfamiliar sights. Today, as I scurried down the usual route to meet my ex-workmates for dinner, the setting sun drew me away from my hurry.

The air still held the echoing stillness of the after-rain, and the scent of drenched grass infused the slight evening breeze. The sun was languidly languishing its light, leaving a painting of glowing amber and wispy clouds in its wake. While the sunset was not an intense palette of breathtaking reds, the serenity of its muted light seemed to fill my soul. My footsteps seemed lighter, and a smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Against my logic's urging to hurry along, I slowed and watched the show.

You see, a huge part of living involves riding waves, and taking life by the reins. In the midst of getting out there and grasping opportunities, we sometimes forget that life is also about living for the moment, and that sometimes means slowing down and taking the time to smell the roses; or stealing a quiet moment to watch the sun set.

Sharing introspections.

Sharing introspections.

music: the freelance hellraiser - want you to know

I talk to myself. In my head. Alot.

Odd eureka moments, or random flashes of inspiration. Quite often, memories of things I have done but am not proud of creep up on me, and I have to try really quite hard to tame those waves of humiliation and guilt.

We all have our share of wrongdoings. Mine just like to remind me of them every now and then. Doesn't quite help that 2006 was my year of sins.

Quite often too, I think of life. Moments of introspection, inspired by anything - from a thunderstorm to frangipani petals strewn on granite. More often than not, these thoughts get filed away in my head, or put into words in a blog entry.

I don't quite have the habit of sharing such thoughts out loud, for it seems injustified to literarize such abstraction. Most of the time, the kaleidoscope of my imagination gets lost in translation.

Needless to say, I have quite abit cooped up in that head of mine, and every once in awhile, I catch myself in an unconscious blab-fest. To a buddy, an ex-lover, a new friend, or even a complete stranger. I almost always cringe when I think back on such conversations. It's like wearing my innermost thoughts on my sleeve, and that degree of nakedness can get very disconcerting.

But every once in awhile, I am blessed to be in the company of someone who actually knows what it is I am driving at, and worries of finding the right words slip away. No blank looks. Just non-judgemental companionship and a night of shared reflections.

And my over-stuffed head of thoughts feel just that bit lighter.

The voice in my head.

The voice in my head.

An old Fann Wong song from an old tv drama serial has been monopolizing my thoughts. I've got a million one things to blog about, but I end up too sleepy by the time I decide to get down to it. Maybe tomorrow.

The principle of utilitarinism.

The principle of utilitarianism.

Okay, I was a tan-aholic.

I've been hearing "you know, my first impression was that you were a bimbo" one too many times, and many have attributed it to my tan. Tanned skin somehow brings to mind a party girl with fluff for brains. I can't dispute that I have my moments of ditziness, but I am definitely not a clubaholic whose main motivation in life is the next free-entry Wednesday night. As appalling as it may sound, my life revolves very much around things that don't involve tanning or partying.

But there used to be a time, back when I was 15, that I would steal away with Xiaowen to Siloso Beach after classes. There, we'd strip down to our sports bras and fbt shorts, lay our uniforms out on the sand and bake the afternoon away. Ditto for Saturdays at the beach with Lanxi. Those were the times when hitting the beach was just about getting and maintaining a tan, at the expense of weird tan lines. (Bikinis weren't quite the rage yet.)

A classic example of the principle of utilitarianism I thought, of ends justifying the means.

I can't remember when that twisted mindset of mine started evolving, but I'm glad it did.

I started swimming on a regular basis when I turned 19, and now that a tan's no longer something I have to consciously pursue, it becomes inconsequential.

Hitting the beach is now a physical act of escape from life. Sitting alone, watching and listening to the fascinating, but never boring, repetition of waves lapping against the shore, does wonders for my soul. Loneliness can hit you even when you're surrounded by throngs of friends, or when you're literarily alone, but it never hits me when I'm at the beach.

The process of being in the waters or stripped down and back at one with nature (even though my favourite local stretch is man-made), surpasses the end result - a tan. In fact, it is no longer something I covet, and is more an unnecessary result of a lifestyle I enjoy.

Teology has now morphed to deontology.

That was how I felt yesterday. Laying at the edge of the pool in a state of semi-consciousness while my hand traced lazy circles in the water, and luxuriating in the intoxicating effect of moseying through the waters. Getting a tan was the last thing on my mind, but this is what 80 minutes in the noon-time sun, and forgetting my sunblock, cost me.

First impressions are evil, but I'm glad I got to change them for some of you.

Observations in a coffeeshop.

Observations in a coffeeshop.

location: Pacific Coffee at Cityhall
music: mixed tape on the speakers

It's yet another rainy afternoon, not unlike the one yesterday.

There was a point in time when rainy days gave my heart the chills, but my good old romanticism about rain is back.

It makes me feel snug and protected here inside the cafe while the world outside gets wet. The champ who's supposed to be here with me has overslept, so I get the chance to get acquainted with the leather chair I'm perched on and a headstart on my revision.

The two hours I had alone in here, drifting in and out of the world of communication research, was like a prolonged state of meditative calm. There's hardly any hustle and bustle here in the cafe, and I've been sitting amongst almost the same people who, like me, have seemingly found their own piece of quiet.

Something I read in a book some time ago has been resurfacing in my mind of late. In the novel, the protagonist was musing on how sad it was that we almost always never get a chance to know the strangers we pass by, or are seated beside; despite the fact that out of the billions of people in the world, we are at the same place at the same time.

It's how I feel right now actually. It's kinda surreal.

Take the man who was seated beside me, until just a while ago. We'd sat side by side for the past two hours, so near yet so far. I didn't take a good look at what he looks like, or at what it was exactly that he was doing on his laptop, but I could feel his presence beside me. And over the course of two hours, I have seemingly accepted his superficial idiosyncracies, like his penchant for laughing out loud at whatever it was on his laptop.

Or like the lady with straight shoulder length hair seated in front, with her back to me. I don't know what she looks like, or what she does for a living, but I know she exists in this world.

Or the tall man to her right, who until about half an hour ago, was alone. A lady has joined him now, and it seems like he is an actor of sorts, or so I think from the snippets of their conversation I hear. I think I even heard Fann Wong's name mentioned.

It's kinda like co-existing in anonymity within the confinements of this laidback paradise.

Our presence lends some sort of comfort to one another that we are not alone, all the while maintaining our masks of privacy. Life is so curiously warped, and so warpedly brilliant.

Unleash the Chemistry nerds.

Unleash the Chemistry nerds.

The "Bling Bling Brainiacs".

Jinli and I mucking around pre-presentation.

That's me, looking every bit the mad scientist while trying out the Pop Rocks "explosion".

The world from upside down.

The world from upside down.

picture from http://journalism.missouri.edu/

Quite a way to see Seng Kang at night.
The beauty of spontaneity and live-for-the-moment decisions.
Decisions as such which had me wondering “what the hell am I doing up here?"
Right before the Vortex swung down.
Free falling.
And I left my heart behind.
Awesome.

Oh the irony!

Oh the irony!