well - it’s been a while, to say the least.

last, last friday i was in geylang for the first time as an adult male human - to interview this nice interior designer, so stop snickering - and since i was there i decided to take a little educational walk down the many lorongs of the district.

for some reason, the song “new york” kept playing in my head, but with “gey-lang” instead of “new york”, as i trudged through the seedy five foot ways and and shady lorongs with big red unit-numbers, squeezing through a gaggle of sleazy old men. and hookers.

i stopped seeing people; all i saw were people who:
A. just had sex
B. were going to have sex

and every woman, i swear, who is with a man 10 years her senior, and/or is wearing a spaggetti strap dress in geylang is likely a hooker.

i went through a coffee shop along one of the corners of the lorongs - and it was full of hookers and old sleazy men… i mean full of it… and some hookers were uh staring at me, i swear, though they were wasting time since i wasnt interested in skanky stuff and i couldn’t take the *damage* to my wallet, anyway.

along one of the little-er lorongs i saw three guys my age walking out of a house; two were dressed fully but one of them was topless and wearing his shoes. in broad bloody daylight! geez.

ohmygod and this sounds hella silly but there was this five-foot way which was a gauntlet of sleazy chinese hookers, a gauntlet, i swear - and when i walked out of it i had like moisture on my forearm of a bloody unknown origin!

in horror i wiped the hooker juice off with a tissue paper but when i got back to the office i washed my hands in dettol in true Soapie fashion, right up to my elbows.

oh and the spice tree curry puffs along geylang, as advertised in eightdays magazine, are really good. pastry is excellent and crumbly and lovely but the curry had this funny fragrance which i liked - but my mom didnt - though the folks at my office didnt mind.

truth be told, though, geylang does have a certain charm to it - an invisible, intangible aura of seediness, the air itself pregnant with the lustful lure of contraceptive desire. as if the people only had one thing on their minds - sex - though all of us at some level, I think, are like that.

I sit here alone in the office – well, nearly alone – at the tail end of a tired and worn-out week, slightly guilty at the fact that my colleagues have been working till 2am the previous consecutive nights while I have not, having completed my work early yesterday evening.

Well, the last two weeks have been terribly hectic for myself; I had to churn out advertorials by the truckload, leaving me in adjective-less and metaphorically dry.

Make that not that alone anymore since graphic designer girls are in now. And make that very guilty since I just learnt that they’ll be working through the weekend. Well I won’t have to feel guilty anymore if I have to work through the weekend but… I think I’ll stay guilty. Hopefully.

Hey everyone check out this website…

http://www.ucmp.berkeley.edu/arthropoda/crustacea/parasitism.html

I remembered this from an old-school magazine I read once in the Raffles Institution library one afternoon while I was waiting for basketball training to start.

Anyway, you know those harmless looking barnacles that line the decks of ships? When they latch their brainless looking selves onto crabs its a whole different story:

I’m not bloody faking it, but they:

• Grow into crabs’ nervous and digestive systems, controlling their enzyme and hormone production therefore altering their behaviour
• CASTRATE THE POOR CRABS
• Eat their food straight from their stomachs
• And since they control the crabs uh chemical stuff, they control the crabs behaviour - the crab host is now just a mindless automaton. Read this - http://www.instadv.ucsb.edu/pa/display.aspx?pkey=211

  an exerpt from the site reads:
  “”With the parasite, the crabs “look like crabs, act like crabs but are not crabs,” says Lafferty. In fact he says that the crab is turned into a “barnacle-making robot.”

• Also, they lay their eggs inside the crabs - EXACTLY where the mindless crab would lay its own eggs, causing the crab to TAKE CARE OF THE EGGS AS IF THEY WERE ITS OWN. even MALE crabs will exhibit this behaviour once they are under the control of this horrific parasite

I mean, come on. Thats as Zerg as it gets. Really freaky shit. FUCKING BARNACLES!!!

My father touched down just now; how splendid – the entire family’s back. I sit here absolutely brimming with joy. Tears are welling up right now in my eyes.

Sheesha has reared its smoky head in Serangoon Gardens – I will go and check it out later to confirm my suspicions and to check – it – out. Firsthand. Getting the jones already sittin’ here thinking.

And since mommy and daddy dearest didn’t get any food for me, I’ll have to feed myself by my own devices; it’s sheesha time, homies. And maybe beer time – nah enough beer for now. Haven’t gone jogging in days.

A full report on the joint in question will be here really soon.

Oh and by the way Mariah Carey - We Belong Together is a tremendous, amazing song. You really have no idea how good she is until you try and whistle her songs… and find yourself runnin out of octaves. Really smooth song that grows like heck on repeated listenings; I thought it was one of her vanilla glitzy songs at first but take back that opinion right now.

Son of a bitch am bloody starving!! Am going out for food son of a bitchin bastard right now!!!

yes! i started the day with many a positive thing, which i will list out as follows:

• had several iced kopi-o’s instead of iced kopi’s
• drank water all day and kept going to the loo - detox, detox!
• woke up and went jogging - then sped up and went all-out running
• no snacks at all while in office thanks to water diet
• did much work and cool doggy articles and tons of adverts!

the other side of the coin wasn’t so shiny, though:

• had cheese prata and onion prata - but fibrous and nutritious onions make up for sinful cheese
• after tt had tpphhick chocolate shake with denise
• ALSO had whipped-cream diced-almond strawberry chocolate-ice cream waffle (omfg)
• moreover, still have remnants of bad karma floating around head like tainted aura of angsty destructive energies

oh well. i think i shall go and sleep soon so tomorrow will wake up with a fresh start and go… jogging again.

i love jogging so much - i think ive fallen in love with jogging again.

its amazingly fun and once you get into the feel of it, foot by foot stepping in front of you is like repeatedly stamping, again and again, the affirmation that you are alive and your destiny lies ahead of you, that you are free to do whateverthefuck you wanna do with your life, that everything lies ahead of you and destiny and greatness and world’s out there in front of you to conquer.

“nails. teeth. bones. clawing. chewing. gnawing. eyes. not the eyes. marrow. sweet. it. stings. stinking. raw. simply. sublime. the. taste. of.”

bad karma, all right. i need a release for all this negative destructive emotion and…

ill leave it at that. eff it all.

Hindsight’s always 20/20.

Have I said that recently? I think I have – there’s a time for doing things, and there’s a time for thinking; maybe right now is that time for thinking that I’ve not, well, allowed myself for a long time now.

I went to church today; it was strange – strange because I had not gone to church in more than two months before today. And sitting on the church bench today I felt something I’ve never felt in years.

I wanted to go for confession.

I haven’t gone since… in years. Confession’s great and all but I just haven’t seen the need. Now I do because I’ve done something knowingly absolutely against my conscience, if I even have one left, if he’s still there, sitting in a curled-up fetal position at a corner of my soul with his head tucked in his hands, not daring to open his eyes for fear that his vision’s gone, not wanting to see the rotten and used and fetid waste that’s left of me inside, not wanting to face the truth but…

Negativity – you stop negativity at its root because let it eat you up just a bit, and it just goes on and on, like a murderous cancer, an all-consuming black succulent ecstasy of throbbing maggots eating you up from the inside – and it stops now.

It stops now because I will it so, and I’m beginning to sound like the pansy crybaby dependent needy pussy-boy I used to be.

Perhaps this is a necessity for now.

In the last couple of days… I don’t know if I’ve been with many people who weren’t crying, who weren’t putting up a smile and biting back their tears with their teeth set, who weren’t dealing with the same problems that you and me and everyone else deals with but feeling that he/she wasn’t dealing with them as well as everyone else and that something else must be wrong with him/her, that maybe he or she was really fucked up inside – but aren’t we all – though he or she would never know, who weren’t torn and red and bloody and bleeding behind all their brave smiles.

Negativity is for wussy men, for losers. Sorry girls – negativity is for girls who nitpick. Negativity is for the guys who don’t make it to Officer school and downgrade themselves into mindless data-entry automatons, into less than a digit in the Army, into walking, talking full-bodied invalids. Negativity is for people who see an uphill battle and give it up before it begins. For the people who’ve tried and given up and would like nothing better else than to see you and you and you stumble and fall and slide down the exact same path to mediocrity that they did, slink right into the precise same mould and mindset of the eternally inept and the fallen-along-the-wayside’s.

I’m none of the above, am I? Hell no so all the negativity and pent up emotion of this week and the last couple of weeks go down here and they stay here – yeah, they stay here in paper, in this entry here, punched out of my bloody and raw psyche thought by thought, self-loathing sentiment by self-loathing sentiment, formed into words without as much meaning as they should have into the keyboard in front of me spontaneously and without second though.

And that’s that. I should be back to myself in the morning. I feel like I’ve just thrown up – you know – and my chest’s substantially lighter from all the dark black knotted angst and putrid, vulgar… sentiments which I’ve just figuratively vomited, sentiments which have been pent up inside for long enough.

I probably haven’t spoken much about anything about myself in here, and I haven’t even read what I’ve written in the past few paragraphs, but in there somewhere are traces of the deepest, darkest and most honest recesses of my soul.

Perhaps this IS my confession, what I’ve been wanting to say – though honestly I haven’t said what I’ve wanted to say, this being just a god-damned nonstop regurgitation of all the pent up angst put into whatever words my feeble vocabulary can muster – and I feel somehow, strangely sated. Not absolutely but this will have to do, I think. It’s late and I’ve spent a good forty five minutes on this, ignoring the incessant MSN messages that pop up now and then…

Sometimes hindsight really is 20/20.

Amen.

just got back from sheesha!

havent gone for shishasheeshahookahsmokeyness in months but its tradition - tradition - and a very necessary tribute to the person to whom i owe all my smokey experiences to: the delectably delightful miss ashley chay, the one person who i can have a conversation with, not see or speak to for half a year, then subsequently continue as if no time had passed at all - which is terribly amusing and poignant at the same time since a million things happen in between and its just amazing when you think how much changes in the meantime.

shitty stuff’s going on though…
hours before i write this, london got bombed - while i was at work in the office.

talking to my mom, on hindsight - maybe it wasnt such a good idea to have london chosen as the olympic host so soon after the iraq war ended (it did?). as it is, right now, britain and america have the biggest targets painted on their backs…

maybe having the olympics at a country which took a more neutral, indifferent stand in the war on “terror” would have been a better idea - does paris come to mind now?

then again, hindsight’s always 20/20, isnt it.

and you keep thinking how terrorism is far away from us - especially in this little island paradise, this little piece of the universe we call home and are so proud of and cling to so dearly - but security is a very, very fragile thing.

if anyone has read isaac asimov’s foundation saga, you’d get me: your greatest strength truly is your largest weakness, since you depend so much on it - once it’s taken away, you’re fucked.

when superman is faced with kryptonite, he gets his butt kicked every damn time, unless someone bails him out (usually his dramatically-less-powerful justice league buddies) - simply because he depends so fuckin’ much on the overbearing magnitude of his strength or his super laser vison, and not his brains.

imagine if batman had superman’s strength - he would kick ass. but that’s just silly cuz its like saying if iverson was 6-11…….

now im getting delirious. to sleep, dumbass.

where is the peace.

my brother got back and within hours put a hole in my goddamn computer to install a hard disk he had no god damn idea how to install, leaving me on the phone fixing a previously perfectly-working computer until 2 am in the morning.

since my siblings got back nothing has been the same. sweet mother of God where is my peace.

its been okay, otherwise.

a lot of bad, bad karma and negative energy has surrounded this whole weekend. im feeling really down because ive been in the presence of down people, sad people, crying people; im included in this list except for the crying part. uh. i cant help but feel this shitty sense of betrayal toward a REALLY close person to me, though. and it all sums up to a depresssive weekend.

whatever!