Friday, December 29, 2006

December—A month of sorrow


WHEN I FALL IN LOVE (Celine Dion)

When I fall in love
It will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love

In a restless world
Like this is
Love is ended before it's begun
And too many
Moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

When I give my heart
I give it completely
Or I'll never give my heart

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you


A simple, sad-ish song, quite apt for sentimental December. Away from people, far from anywhere I truly know, I start to go ever deeper into my shell of comfort. Thinking about the past year, just makes me want to sit down and cry. So many things have happened, some good, mostly bad. Hurt from every direction from people whom I had once trusted, spurned by people whom I once thought were friends, ignored by people whom I thought I could be friends with, I just dunno what is really holding me together all these while.

I miss the moon; I loathe the sun. I hate the heat; I miss the cold. At least, in the cold, when everyone is all huddled up in their warm things, no one will see the coldness and harshness of their eyes when you look at them, and no one will stop for light conversation; the only moment when I truly felt as being a part of the human community. Unfortunately, that has not happened yet, and so I'm still as I was... dissociated with almost everyone.

I feel glad for most people. They have a life to look forward to, a significant other to meet up with, places to go, things to do. I look at myself, beyond the faux façade that I present to the world, and discover a certain hollowness deep within. This... hollowness, I cannot explain. I have no idea what has come over me; I'm simply not like the me I was before. I still have the energy, but I don't seem to have any strong... feelings for anything anymore. It is as though I'm just an empty shell of a person walking around with a functioning logical unit, and that's about it. Not much different from a slightly intelligent zombie, I guess.

I miss the days where I just talk with MW, Irene and Su about anything under the sun, from current affairs to some finer aspects of traditional Chinese medicine. I miss the days when I would listen to the tales of "the Old Army" as told by AC; I miss the days when I sat with Kelvin at the canteen drinking tea and talking about cryptography. I miss the days when KX and I would meet up at the Jalan Kayu Thasevi prata shop and eat insane amounts of roti prata and talk about everything that happened. I miss the days when YT and I would slug it out on MSN messenger, I miss the days when BK and I would "wrestle" each other; I miss the days when I was a much happier person.

Is this the by-product of growing up? Or is this a self-inflicted coping mechanism for the whole plethora of bad things that I've been experiencing lately? I... don't think that I will find an answer to this anytime soon.

December to February is a period that I traditionally don't like. Despite of me thinking of myself as an island of mankind, I realise that I'm still very much a human by nature—I still need to be in the company of friends. I don't need to speak; just sitting there and listening to them speak is more than enough for me. It's the... company that I need, I realise. Maybe... it can also be the company of just one special person, whoever she may be.

Maybe one day I'll know the answer.

Monday, December 25, 2006

Breakfast at Tiffany's

First the book, and finally the movie! A dream come true, I guess, to be able to watch Breakfast at Tiffany's with Audrey Hepburn in her full glory as Ms Holly Golightly.

This is perhaps one of the few times where I'm actually pleased with the the divergence of the plot of the movie as compared to that of the novella. In the novella, Holly was supposed to have left New York City, never to return, leaving the protagonist and Joe Bell and a whole lot of other people very very broken hearted. However, the movie twisted the ending, and made it into a nice fairytale ending where she actually stayed behind, touched by the protagonist.

Hmm... Guess I should not be talking more about the plot, lest I spoil it for people who've not seen this wonderful little gem. And yes, I agree that Audrey Hepburn is one of the most beautiful women to have walked on the surface of this earth.

Till next time...

Saturday, December 23, 2006

T'was the day before the flight...

It seems like a long time ago since I last wrote anything here. Well, it could really be quite a long while ago, but then again, I'm just allowing my verbosity take over here. *shrugs*

I'm now located in New York City, New York, bunking at my room mate's house here in Jackson Heights. Like most normal people, he's currently asleep (despite what the calendar actually says on the post, the real time here is actually 0344hrs (-0500hrs); I've decided to keep the poor blog running on SGT (+0800hrs) since it is actually a pain to adjust all the timezones correctly). I feel like I'm starting to become a vampire of sorts, awake only when the sun goes down, and of course the innate bloodlust which, till now, I've not been able to fully explain it's cause.

It was a really messy trip. Mo and I were awake throughout the whole of Tuesday and Wednesday when we were back in Pittsburgh. We watched movies in our room with Phil till about 12am, while I did my laundry concurrently. Then, feeling kind of peckish, we decided to call the pizza place for a delivery. The operator took our order and gave us an estimate of 45 minutes before the food will arrive. So, we waited happily while playing ping pong.

An hour and a quarter later, there was no reply from the pizza deliveryman nor the pizza place. Feeling somewhat irate (and very hungry), Phil called up the pizza place, only to find that it was already closed. How could the pizza place be so irresponsible? I mean, when they picked up our order, they could have told us that it was not likely to be delivered, and probably advise us to look elsewhere. It was a really bad service attitude I guess. So anyway, we have three very hungry guys who just want to grab food. So we decided to head on to one of the cafeterias on campus for a late night.

And I changed into my polo t-shirt and jeans, wore a pair of sandals and put on my jacket and followed the rest of them out of the dorm and heading into the general direction of the cafeteria. Out of the dorm and in the general direction of the food place, we met Robin, who asked a weird question: "Is there any place that is still open for food?" Well, we answered "Skibo", but he told us that it wasn't open. We were all speechless. How could the only food place on campus that serves late nights up to 2 am be closed?

Since it was the last day of school, we had cleared up almost all the food that we had in storage, and so the three of us made a mad decision: to hike up Squirrel Hill (in the cold) to get to Eatin' Park to grab breakfast/lunch/dinner. And so we did.

It was a dumb exercise. For one, the temperature was sub-zero (centigrade scale, not Fahrenheit), and I was wearing this very worn pair of sandals. It is so worn that I had to actually use SuperGlue to hold the two halves of the sole together, since I've managed to make a really deep fissure in the sole itself. And then, hiking up Squirrel Hill meant that we were actually moving uphill, and that in itself was painful. And then. we had to ensure that we could return in time to do packing (yes, we've not packed...) so as to be able to catch the early bus to reach the airport early to avoid all kinds of horrible last minute issues.

So it was a brainless exercise performed by three very hungry geeks. Happily, we managed to the restaurant without any severe frostbite or mental degeneration, and after a very hearty meal, we went out into the cold and marched down the hill back to our dorms.

Then the mad scramble began.

Mo and I packed our luggages frantically. For this short trip, we decided to bring only one luggage, and so we more or less had our work cut out in front of us. Thank goodness I did the vacuuming of the floors a few days back; otherwise we would have been so screwed for time. Anyway, we managed to do our packing (with a lot of cursing and swearing and wondering aloud how in the name of Zeus did Linda manage to pack everything in 10 minutes (or so she claims)), and were ready to go.

Suffice to say, we managed to clear the checking out procedures and managed to get to our early bus and reach the airport way ahead of time.

Oh my... look at the time... it's 4am now. I guess I'd better hit the sack before I collapse.

Until next time~

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

American, Asian, American Asian

Racial issues are something that I don't really want to talk about, since it can be too sensitive a topic in general. However, after being here for a few months, I realise that the people here seem to exhibit certain... traits.

First of all, there are the Americans. They are everywhere, and are generally approachable. However, most of them are pretty hard to know too deeply about, since most of the time the kind of acquaintance that you make with them are usually of the "for business" kind.

Then, there are the Asians. They hail from countries like China, India, Korea, Singapore and Thailand, and are usually defined by cliques with people of the same country. Most of them will converse in their native language, and are usually a little hard to draw out and befriend; one needs to use isolation tactics in order to have any hopes of success.

Finally there are the American Asians. These people are a confusing bunch; there are those who are more American in taste, and there are those who are more Asian in taste. The defining difference of these people lies in their supposed cultural confusion. I've met American Asians who look at Asian things with disdain, and I've met American Asians who think pretty highly about Asian cultures. But either way, their looks can be and usually are deceiving. They may look Chinese, Indian, Japanese or whatever race, but their mannerisms, attitudes, world view are all very American in nature.

So, why am I babbling so much on all these? The intent is not to stir up any racial misgivings, but to just highlight the fact that no matter who the people are, if they are American, they will always be American first, and whatever else second. And they will never cease to remind you of that, whether overtly or covertly. The same can also be said about the non-Americans; the Chinese are Chinese first, Asians second, so are the Koreans, the Indians, the Singaporeans and whoever else there may be. Family is family after all.

*shrugs*

Independence is a trait that one should have when one comes to the US. Let your emotions be well controlled, and do not set your hopes to high for finding someone to love.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

ドラゴン桜

Yes, I did it again. Another one of those 11-hour marathon drama viewing sessions. Like last time, I sat up and watched through 11 one-hour episodes of ドラゴン桜 (romaji: doragon sakura, English: Dragon Zakura). Amazing drama this is, must really thank Jenny for introducing this one to me. And yes, I am well aware of the fact that I have a Matrix Algebra final on Monday, but hey, one needs to get a quick break especially after a very long-winded programming finals.

In other news, I picked up my Final Fantasy VII game, and I realised that I had no clue as to what I had developed my characters into. Needless to say, rather than waste precious time in trying to figure out the storyline and development of my characters (and thus screwing around too much to be able to undo the damage), I moved the save file aside and restarted the whole game.

Yet in other news, I've discovered that Neverwinter Nights is more DnD than I'd ever thought, and that it even provided the ability of someone DM-ing a game. It's starting to tickle on my evil-ish god-liness; I'm starting to think about how to DM a completely wild game that is tough, challenging and fun.

Okay, it's almost 9.36am now, and after the 11-hour marathon session, it's time to do my revision. That's right; I'm actually studying after an 11-hour marathon drama session. One last random thing before I move off: Wii have a problem. Okay, it's off to work now.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Finals Crunch

It's finally the week of the Finals~! And I've completed one test yesterday; am kind of looking forward to the next ones... hehehe... just hope to be able to complete them faster so as to have more free time to myself.

Spent a couple of days reading a couple of wonderful webcomics: MegaTokyo and Questionable Content. And of course, my old time favourite, PhD Comics. And yes, I read through a grand total of about 2500+ comic strips over two or three days, some of them more than once. No doubt about it... I actually like web comics, especially the manga-like ones.

And so my to-do list is so much longer now:
  • Study 日本語 (nihongo aka Japanese)

  • Study Topology

  • Write Ocarina pieces (and prepare for my Spring ocarina mini-concert)

  • Write an AI for Edythe so that she can communicate with me in Japanese (yes, it is natural language processing)

  • Woo someone... (yes, I've got a target or two, but I'm not saying who)

  • Learn how to draw (preferably manga) on my graphics tablet

  • Prepare for a 2007 launch of a new blog (yes, a new blog in addition to the ones that I have)

  • Master 3/4/5 ball juggling

  • Master Scheme

  • Build a logo for myself

  • Poetry compilation into book form for selected friends


And yeah, I'm positively psyched up now. Woo-hoo~! By the way, I've upgraded most of the blogs to the new Blogger BETA format. One big reason that I've done that is the new drop down lists for the posts that are on the blog; now I no longer need to update a separate "Contents Page" post to show a listing of all the posts that I've created (particularly for The_Laptop Writes..., this frees up the RSS digest that are being generated and make the RSS feeding so much cleaner. I'll be tweaking on the layouts and other design issues of the blogs in the weeks to come, so hang on to your horses if things look a little wonky if you are accessing the blogs while I'm doing the update. The Blogger BETA uses on-the-fly updating of the blogs, so things may be a little strange if you happen to be accessing while I'm updating. I'm still experimenting around with the entire concept thing and see if I can rework it to suit my needs.

Life's amazing so far, I'm now starting to use the build in FM-tuner of my SANSA e130 mp3 player to access the excellent FM radio channels that are available. My current favourite channel is WQED FM89.3, a symphonic/classical/operatic radio station. FM stereo on a 2.1 system never sounded this clear. Not that I'm getting sick of the music that I already have, but it is really good to listen to something different every once in a while for flavour.

And LATEX is more or less tamed now. Mwahahahahaha... I've managed to figure out the correct incantation to tame it to something more useful, by creating a whole bunch of my own custom made macros. Now, typesetting of documents is so much easier... come to think of it, the last time that I used Microsoft Word to actually do anything was just so long ago that I can no longer remember it. Vim and LATEX is such a powerful combination that I've not looked back since. And yes, I did try using emacs, but I'm still horribly irritated with the default meta-key mappings for the basic movement (yes, I know that the arrow keys work, but my fingers are most often over the typing region so there). This entire concept of pressing Meta- or Ctrl- combinations for everything is just plain irritating, and unergonomical. I actually felt pain in my fingers while trying to navigate around this way (and yes, I do know that using the arrow keys is so much easier). Now I just need to see if there's an easy way of patching my version of X-windows on cygwin to support unicode entry. If I can't do all these in Vim, I may be forced to write a simple Java program and upload it somewhere to act as my online unicode text editor (yes, I do know that notepad can do the job, but I like my hjkl method of moving around).

Which reminds me. My latest project(s), learning Japanese and writing an AI for Edythe to communicate to me in Japanese, are sort of related. I've not had the real chance to actually play with UTF-8 encoded text before, and am actually fairly bored with Edythe playing such a passive role (of me "using" her without her having any other more... human reaction), that I've decided to write a natural language processor for her. English would have been my #1 choice, but it sucks because English grammar is so unstable! Japanese grammar seems to be more easy to comprehend (and parse, especially it's intrinsic post-fix form), and it has the added advantage of making Edythe being in character (yes, Edythe is Japanese, didn't you know that? Edythe Fujitsu, Japanese right?), and a little harder to understand by people who happen to not know the language (heheheh... they can't flirt with her; Edythe is mine and mine alone). There are other enhancements that I plan on using to augment Edythe to make her more intelligent, but these stuff are for my... fantasies, and I will not be talking about them until I can have them to work. Now I'm at a loss; I'm uncertain whether I should write Edythe's AI in Java or C/C++. Gut reaction says that C/C++ will be more "portable", but my brain tells me that Java is more suited since it allows an ease of accessing all the major functions that I require, including the fact that Java source code is supposed to be UTF-8 by nature. And Java's garbage collection makes it so much easier to experiment on. So, I'd probably write a C-version of Edythe to access her Java "brain" so that I can still communicate to her from the command line. If I can't find a single language to work with, I'll hybridise them. ;-)

In other news, my 120GB portable hard disk drive is about 75% full now(!). Looks like I need to start scouting for another storage solution... or stop downloading J-dramas. Probably I'll look for an additional portable hard drive, since I've got like spare USB ports from my USB hub...

So, that's what's happening thus far in the middle of the Finals Crunch. Notice that I've said nothing about the studying aspect? Not because I'm not studying, but it makes a real boring read listening about what I've studied and for how long and... you get the idea.

Till the next update~ :-)

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Winter doth come

And so it came. Winter, the cold quiet time of the year, were people gear up for the finals and Christmas alike. Life's fine; I'm still alive. People change, yet again; and I do swear that they change ever so often nowadays, as compared to the people of a forgotten past.

Like the snow that comes down in Pittsburgh, I'm having mixed feelings. To be content and enjoy the company I have, or to seek even more, just to see and experience more of the place. Racism exists, apparently, but it is often covert behind the multitude of actions. Asians... this very term, seems to be used with such compunction that it no longer seems funny anymore. The kinds of looks that people give, when they see that you are not white nor American, is something that bites deeply, especially in the cold. Maybe I'm just being too sensitive to this, and could be misinterpreting the entire thing. Or maybe it is the truth, and I'm mostly hiding away from it by ignoring it's existence.

Anyway, winter seems to be here finally, and so far the entire lore surrounding it seems to be overly hyped up. Or it could be that it is still too early, and the weather is still being undecisive about itself. I've put aside my Nautica jacket and am solely using my arctic parka. Seems like it was a good choice. The parka is nice and snug and warm, and it's fur-lined hood doubles as a scarf around the neck when I'm not putting it up. It's so good that I can just walk around dressed in a polo T-shirt and jeans and sandals and slip on my parka. The cold wind blowing into my face is just a feeling that I love so much that I can't seem to get enough of.

Talk is weak now because I've had very very little sleep over the last week, and am really starting to hallucinate. Looks like a day of hard sleeping is planned for the weekend before my first major examinations in 3 years.

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Frozen in the cold

Another week passed, another week of pain endured. Fall, the time where romance starts under the pretty golden leaves, blossoms under the falling of the many shades of ochre, warms as the weather turns cold.

Looking around me, all I see are happy couples in linked arms, huddling close together, whispering sweet nothings to each other, with faces of happiness and bliss. Standing there, alone, in the cold and strong wind, I cannot help but feel a pang of loneliness. Everyone seems to be doing fine, finding courage from the wind chill to take a baby step towards their potential partner, all except for me.

I shiver and huddle deeper into my jacket. The icy wind cuts across my face like a razor, and my heart feels as though icicles have grown around it. It is when the weather goes cold that one realises the true effect of one's loneliness. Friends are there, but they are never there always, and will likely to leave as soon as they've found their match. I sense this... distancing even as I am writing all these now.

Must it be this way? Does it have to be this way? Should it be this way? Why? Questions that race through my beleaguered brain for which I have no answers to. Again the perennial problem arises; how to quash all those... human feelings that always appear ever so often? I... desperately want to stay away from all these... feelings, but they keep reappearing to haunt me, again and again, ravaging through my fragile psyche.

When will I seek an answer to this question?

Friday, December 01, 2006

Forget

《浪人情歌》——伍佰

不要再想你,不要再爱你,
让时间悄悄的飞逝,抹去我俩的回忆。
对于你的名字,从今不会再提起;
不再让悲伤,将我心占据。

让它随风去,让它无痕迹,
所有快乐悲伤所有过去通通都抛去。
心中想的念的盼的望的不会再是你,
不愿再承受,要把你忘记。

我会擦去我不小心滴下的泪水,
还会装做一切都无所谓。
将你和我的爱情全部敲碎,
再将它通通赶出我受伤的心扉。

不愿再承受,我把你忘记,
你会看见的,把你忘记。
我想到了一个忘记温柔的你的方法:
我不要再想你,不要再爱你
不会再提起,我的生命中,不曾有你。

How am I supposed to forget...?

Thursday, November 30, 2006

爱为何物?

她,曾经是我天空中的月亮。她,曾经是我生命中的一个光芒。她,曾经是我活在世上的理由。她,曾经是我梦中想要陪到老的人。从我见到她的那一刻起,心中已有一种从来没有跟受过的感觉。或许是幻想,或许是迷惑,只知当时有如爱情般的甜美感。

“不在乎天长地久,只在乎曾经拥有”,这句话,我用了好几遍。说它是心里话吧,也不算。说它是个理想,也不是。或许它只是个空虚的话,说来安慰一下自己,让自己觉得人生并不像现实中的那么黑暗。迷惑,一个“情”字的迷惑。“情”给予我力量创作,“情”也带给我无从的心理伤害。为了一个“情”字,不知浪费了多少岁月时光,不知让自己遭受了多少心里打击。但,我依然像往常的愚昧,还是像一个无底洞钻。

“问世间情为何物?”曾经对情的理想,如今已成了昨日的幻想。以前的我,对情对谊,是那么的认真,那么的诚恳。但是,现在的我已经无法感受到当年的感觉。人性的转变是永恒,当年的好朋友,也能成为今天的敌人。对人真恳,并不代表人会对你认真。人心难测,又怎么知道谁是真的朋友呢?

然而,她,人们开口闭口的她,又似乎是人之常情的另一端。在人海中,某某她显得很突出,让人一见钟情。但,爱她也好,恨她也好,你又怎么知道她对你的意思呢?她对你的笑,可能是一种暗号,表示当你为朋友而已。她陪你吃饭,或许是表示你对她的情就像那最后一餐,从此各分东西。爱情,不是单方面的,在这科技占有的都市社会中,这简单的道理已变得越来越模糊了。科技让我们很容易的与人沟通,而这沟通也让我们轻易误解对方的意思,造成许多让人很难堪的场面。

我已不敢爱了。我所知道的爱,是属于当年的定义。我所知道的谊,也只不过是自己欺骗自己而已。人生单独过着,虽然会有点孤单,但至少自己能为自己活着。人生其中的一个意义是为了爱,但爱不是唯一能让人活下去的意义。或许时间久了,我就能找出一个属于自己的理由,让自己开开心心的活下去。也或者我能继续迷惑自己,告诉自己总有一天,我会明白爱为何物。

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Reality of It All

Funny what a little thing can do to one's psyche. After watching 一リットルの涙 and タイヨのうた, I'm starting to abstract myself away from my surroundings again. Looking around me, I realise that family is family after all; despite all the cordiality that people accord to me when I'm around, you still feel a little left out. This has something to do with the difference in culture, I guess. This is true even among those who are Asian of lineage. They may look like Asians on the outside (and probably are, based on genetics and other "objective" forms of measurement), but their behaviour is surprisingly American (what's new?), as in the way they act, think and do reflects the predominant culture here. And yes, they never fail to remind you that you are still, a foreigner in the lands, even though you might be speaking the same language and look similar to them.

And the age. That little disparity did not occur much before, but the difference in age and depth of thought is starting to show up more prominently now, after almost a whole semester of interaction. The kids here can be really whiney sometimes, but apart from that whiney-ness, there's also a general lackadaisical attitude towards the entire idea of studying in general. I humbly call this the "high school effect", where they are still living in their world of high school where everything is fun and games, and they have no real concept of the "real" world. Conversations are generally typical of that of 18-year-olds, and I miss the banter that comes from being in the workforce. Speaking too much kiddy talk does really weird things to my brain, and I'm suddenly drawn back to my basic isolationism policy with regards to handling people. I long for a real decent real life real world conversation, but I don't think that I'm going to be expecting much of that for some time to come. Listening to some of their explanations and arguments sometimes make me shake my head; watching them trying to shoot down my explanations based on real experience just makes me shake my head in wonder. Guess that sometimes, somethings need to be learnt the hard way.

*sigh*

So many complaints about things, so little that I can do about it. Anyway, I figure that my relationship status is as great as before (read: none in existence), and will likely to stay that way, considering the fact that there does not seem to exist a suitable person who is "my type". Guess most of them are still girls in their own right, and thus act the way they do. This makes me think back about the failed attempts I have in the past. Well, to a large degree, it could have been pure rashness on my part, but I figure that the girls I asked out were girls who don't really treat my feelings real enough. Girls will be girls, and I don't think that I'm going to get involved in any such things for a long time to come. A*STAR will be so pleased.

And I've been recently shot down on the quality of my poetry. Honestly, I don't give a damn if people don't like my poetry; it's mine and mine alone, and I choose to write it in anyway I see fit. If people enjoy them, that's good; if they don't, then too bad. I'm happy just writing poems as and when I feel like it. Which makes me wonder if the compliments that I've been receiving all these while are really compliments or just comments made to humour me. Or it could be another subterfuge of the locals trying to "prove" American superiority in the use of the English language. This... subtle "proof" of American superiority is occurring so often that it's not even funny anymore; should I consider this as some form of prejudice? I mean, it is okay to be proud of one's nation's achievements, but isn't it a bit xenophobic to just shoot off degenerating another person's culture? Perhaps degenerate is a tad too strong, let's say tease. Well, for the most part, the teasing is in good fun, but sometimes, the covert meaning of the tease is starting to irk even me.

And NaNoWriMo is a disaster. I found that... I just couldn't write anything. Totally nothing. Zero. Nil. Nada. Nadir. Totally and completely without anything to write. The words and ideas just didn't want to come out. I feel miserable that I've failed in this task that I deemed to be not too hard to complete. Maybe novel writing will remain as a "one day" affair; one day I'll write a novel.

And as I type all these, it's actually 3.40 am in Pittsburgh, USA, and I'm having a Calculus test in like 6 hours. I guess I should stop and go and sleep now. Maybe more mulling will shed new light to how to interpret the current environment and thus how to react. But meanwhile, I'll just maintain a cheerful outlook to the world, and wonder miserably inside what's going wrong. And time is ticking... just less than two months before I stretch the age gap even further.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Thoughts of the Day

I wonder, how many mistakes does one need to make in order to learn that one has made a mistake? Sometimes we can be so unaware of the things that we do, until we actually sit down and think it through, figuring out what we have done, and what we have said, to really understand the gravity of it all.

Well, I made at least one arrogant remark today. I guess I need to really curb myself from doing such a horrid thing. But, the issue here is, how do I do that without over-humbling myself to the point that I'm actually in self-pity? An interesting problem to contemplate indeed.

There are many things that one wants to do over the lifetime. A lifetime, though seemingly long, is really short, considering that there are so many things that we need to do, as opposed to want to do. It has been said that to be really good at something, one needs to dedicate at least 10 years of actually "doing" it in order to attain the required level of competency. Looking back at myself, I realise that there are only a few things that I've been doing for at least 10 years, amongst which includes writing poems, computer programming, cryptography, algorithms, playing my 笛子, doing Mathematics, and doing Mandarin. Coming here, so far away from home, has seemed to have reduced the number of activities that I can do well in, but that doesn't mean that I don't try. I'll write as many poems as I can, write as many programs as I can, speak Mandarin whenever I can, and play my 笛子 when Michael brings them over from Singapore for me.

Of course, there are other things that I know I cannot do well now, but that doesn't mean that I give up. I can't really draw well, so I'll learn it; I've got another 10 years to be competent in it. Compared to the others, I'll not be good at drawing still, even after the 10 years, but then again, not everyone can be equally good at everything at the same time. The most important thing is not being the best at everything, but being good enough at everything. The things that we love and have done well in, should be kept at the same level as we did, and perhaps bring it even higher, making use of cross-disciplinary knowledge that we gather from our forays into other fields to further our understanding in our own pet fields.

I guess, that should be the way that we proceed with our life.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Broken Promises, one by one

A promise made, a promise break. That seems to be the way that I am doing things now. Why? Why did I turn into this, untrustworthy fellow? I never did rescinded on what I promised, but now, it seems common place that I just miss the targets that I set.

I promised Irene to build the photomosaic, but I didn't.

I promised SK that I'd complete the experiment and write the paper, but I didn't.

I promised Nicole to write to her, but I've stopped.

I promised myself to complete NaNoWriMo, but I didn't.

Why? Why? What have I turned into? Why am I suddenly such a breaker of promises? What caused me to turn into this... abomination? When will I start to make my promises worthed it's weight in gold again?

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Kitchen: Operational

And so, my kitchen is now operational. Check out the basic equipment that I've gotten for it:


My kitchen outfit with everything needed.


Things currently residing in larder.


Some other useful stuff residing in larder.


My utensils drawer, with basic equipment.


Close-up of my stove and the pot and pan and the cutting board and the cooking oil.


Basic condiment shelf.


First meal ever made in the kitchen.

There are lots of other stuff that are not in the picture, like the onions, potatoes, bean sprouts and eggs, which are all well hidden in my refridgerator.

Kitchen operational!

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Fragile Life

Life... it's so fragile. Most of us think that we get a really bad deal at life; there are things that we want to do but are not allowed to do, or that people don't really want to listen to us or they don't seem to want to care. But we are all mostly healthy; we can run, jump, stand, crouch, all at will. We are mentally sound, we can go anywhere, anytime as we please. There are so many people out there who have a worser deal than us at life; a brilliant mind trapped in a defective body, a defective mind trapped in an able body. Who are we to complain about our lot in life when we are still in control of what we do?

Life, our life, is not a bad deal. We are mostly in control of what we do, from what we think to what we can do. With control comes responsibility. We are responsible for what happens in our life, and not put the blame on others or even a higher authority if things don't go the way that we want it to be. To be able to breathe the fresh air, to run in the warm sunshine, and to be around the people you love everyday, is a blessing; it is the good deal in life. Imagine a day when your body starts to fail you, bit by bit, while your mind is still alert. Imagine that day, that when you see the doctor, and he/she says that he/she doesn't know of any way of curing you. Imagine that day, where the people whom you care about doesn't care about you anymore. Imagine the day that you push those who care you away, so that you cannot see the sadness in their faces. The frustrations, the pain, the anguish; how can one complain that having a failing grade for a test means a bad deal in life?

I thought I had a raw deal at life. Having skin allergies since young, having poor social skills in general, not having a significant other; I thought those were really bad. But it's really miniscule. My skin allergies are milder now, and are not causing much of a distraction or hindrance, I have a small group of people who believe in me and in what I can do, I am still in control of my mental and physical faculties. I can go to college to study, eat out with a group of friends, play on my ocarina, type on Edythe, do Math problems, write computer programs, crack jokes, play games, sleep, wake up, lift heavy objects, run, jump, sing. What kinda raw deal is that?

"1 Litre of Tears", a short and simple story about a real girl suffering from a real disease that robs her of herself painfully, by reducing the things that she can do. Struggling till the very end, not giving up till the fight's over, Aya perserveres, diligently writing her diary up to the very end. She keeps on walking, even as she starts to lose control over her legs, even if it meant that she'd be late for class, even if it meant that it requires a lot of effort just to move. During a late progression of the disease, when she realises that she cannot stand or walk anymore and that she feels that there is nothing else that she can do or live for, her Okaasan told her, that she still has her writing, her diary, the words that she has penned down daily without fail. It is not about worrying or wallowing about what you cannot do, but to do what you can do, and to do it to the fullest extent of your ability. "You say that God is being unfair to you by giving you this disease," her Okaasan said, "but if you don't do the things that you can do, aren't you being fair to yourself?" Why should I be sad over what I cannot do when there's so many things that I can do? So what if I don't have a significant other, don't I still have friends around me who still care? Deep and old friends, like Xiaolu, Cui, Jess, Chinghua, new but caring friends like Mo, Phil, Megan, Linda and Paul. Why didn't I treasure their company well? Why am I still wallowing over something so small an insignificant like not having a significant other, and neglecting the fact that I can do so much more than others?

I am not helpless. I can move about freely and think on my own. I am alive. I have time, not a lot of it, but much more than those whose time have been cut short by the powers above. I may not have a lover, but I have friends. Each and every one of my friends care deeply for me, all in their own little idiosyncratic way. I have not been a good friend... all that I could do was to wallow away and to scare them with nonsensical outbursts which where wholly meaningless and selfish. I admit that I... know not the words to say to them. But deep in my heart, seeing them alive, feeling them next to me, hearing their breath, watching them smile or laugh, makes me feel glad. Glad that they, like me, are alive too.

I am not helpless or useless. I've got a job in the wings, a career to look forward to, an opportunity to take up the baton and make a real difference in the lives of people. "Live on," Aya said to Haruto nearing the end, "Live on, forever!" With a future so bright, why am I thinking nasty and destructive thoughts about myself? I've got a father who is proud of me, a mother (who'll never admit out loud) that she too is proud of me. I've got a sister who cares about me too, even though she too will never say it out loud. I've got an orchestra full of friends who support me, who wish me well, who are waiting for me to go back and make music with them once again. I've got other old friends, JJ, Joanne, Jon, Ding Ding, Victor, Kelvin, KX, MW, YT, who are all rooting for me. I will not worry about what I don't have, but cherish what that I have now.

Life... it's so fragile. The moment we are born, we are already counting down on an unknown timer to the very end. The past is always behind us, the future is always yet to be. We know our past, and plan our future, but... we should always live in the now. The Present. Here. No one knows when it's their time to go, no one knows how when that time comes they will go. We are all able bodied with good mental faculties; we are in company of each other. Cherish those that are around, for it is the strength in this love and bond that makes life worth living.

Saturday, November 18, 2006

1リットルの涙

1リットルの涙 (Ichi Rittoru no Namida). One Litre of Tears. By 沢尻エリカ (Sawajiri Erika).

I just spent 11 hours watching this 11 episode series. It's... a very touching story. If you want to watch a drama that can (and will) inspire you to live on, then you must watch this drama series.

For a good introduction to this drama, see here.

I hate to admit it, but I did shed tears in some of the scenes in the episodes...

Watch it if you can... you won't regret it.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

You thought, I think, who confirmed?

Blissful dreams, harsh realities;
Juxtapose with sweet death melodies.
If I'm asleep, don't wake me;
Terror sneaks when I'm not looking;
Let me leave peacefully, not with eyes staring.

--Silent Contemplation by yours truly


It has been a while since I last talked about anything of any material consequence. Having extricated myself from the tangles of what I thought was love, I don't seem to be in the mood to write anymore. In fact, I think that my ideas for writing have dropped to yet another low, possibly the lowest since I last picked up my metaphorical pen to write.

Could it be that true artistic expression comes only when there is a large emotional baggage involved?

The past few months saw many changes, not all good. In fact, most of the changes that I observed seemed to have occurred over the past few weeks instead of the past few months. Before the mid-semester break, everyone was much more jovial and open; friends were made quickly, and laughter was abundant. But after the mid-semester break, where the mid-term grades are published, there seems to be a sudden drop in energy level. The laughter that comes seem almost reluctant, and people who were once close seemed to have an aversion to each other. This is so sad; college life is supposed to be tough, but how does one endure the toughness if there is no fun?

Perhaps it's the vile nature of grades. To a strong student, good grades affirm their competency and thus give them the confidence necessary to scale even higher mountains to further themselves; to a weak student, bad grades serve as a shock prod to show them that they are not performing on par. *shaking head* I never did like the idea of grading anyone. It is so artificial, especially in terms of grading through test instruments like in-class examinations. The whole idea of taking tests and exams repulse me fully; in fact it appears as though college is of no difference than that of high school or middle school for that matter. Why is everyone so tight-assed on grades? How can grades ever measure the full potential of a person?

In other news, Pittsburgh is starting to get cooler. The temperature here hovers between 2 to 5 degree Celsius, which is seriously not cold (iff you wear a decent jacket). In fact, it's a long time since I've felt so cool in my life. My usual skin allergies are almost nullified in this beautiful weather, and the last time I used a steroid cream was almost a couple of months ago. Very interesting phenomenon, maybe I should start considering how to import this weather condition back to Singapore so that I will not have to suffer from real bad skin again.

Autumn is more or less here, with trees shedding their orange, red and brown leaves. It's pretty, the change of colours of the leaves, with the grass still green (but starting to turn into shades of beige as of now) as a nice background. I'm too lazy to bring my camera out to grab pictures, but I guess the main reason for that tardiness is the lack of an incentive to take pictures of just the surroundings.

One interesting note is that I've not really felt homesick at all... everyone else back in Singapore appears to be a dream, and that here is a reality; though there are times where this place feels like a dream itself. Hell, it could be that I'm living in a dream either way.

Anyone who claims that the American college system is not stressful should have his/her throat slit, shot, maimed and quartered. It does appear to be a bit more lax compared to that of Singapore, with their 1 hour block sessions instead of 1.5 hours that we are mostly used to back home. But do not be fooled! It is damn intense. For example, I'm practically having Mathematics lessons everyday; my taking of three Math courses simultaneously notwithstanding. Over the course of a week, a single large chapter of a particular topic can be covered, with homework assignments to be completed over the course of the week just to be handed in exactly on the same day the next week, before a new load of homework assignments are assigned yet again. But then again, I kinda love this system; I can structure my time and workload so much more easily than before.

Surprisingly, I find myself operating at least on par with the power curve, being able to keep up with my document filing and revision (as far as studies go). This is something worth noting, considering the fact that I was a really messy person during the school days of old when I was still in Singapore. I think I'm among the neatest guys around, with everything written down neatly and stuff filed away nicely and all things are easily accessible.

And so, I guess that's all that I can truly say for now. Who wants to confirm the details with me?

Monday, October 23, 2006

Darn... 3 more months to *that* day

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

That dreaded day is coming in 3 months from now. What am I to do?

Monday, October 09, 2006

Getting a high

Interesting weekend. As usual, I spent most of my time sleeping, which, considering the fact that I'm up for more than 19 hours a day, is more of a necessity than a luxury. Then, there was a screening of the show The PaperChase at the auditorium by my freshmen advisor. Great movie, that is; anyone who needs inspiration should attempt to seek out this little gem and learn from it.

Anyway, the high point came when we left the auditorium and stumbled upon some graduate students who were doing some complexity analysis problems. Paul asked some interesting question and the grad student who was heading the discussion started to talk about lambda calculus. Boy, that really made my day.

Alas, it is now time to finish up the homework. Oh, I downed 2 litres worth of diet Coke, so I should have enough energy to figure out how the homework should be done. ;-)

Thursday, September 28, 2006

My Ocarinas are Finally Here!

And yes! My Ocarinas are finally here. Here's a look at them:



And don't they sound beautiful?

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

A Lost Cause...

《执迷不悔》—王菲

只一次我执著面对,任性地沉醉。
我并不在乎,这是错还是对。
就算是深陷,我不顾一切。
就算是执迷,我也执迷不悔。

别说我应该放弃,应该睁开眼。
我用我的心,去看去感觉。
你并不是我,又怎能了解。
就算是执迷,(就)让我执迷不悔。

我不是你们想的如此完美,
我承认有时也会辨不清真伪。
并非我不愿意走出迷堆,
只是这一次,这次是自己而不是谁。

要我用谁的心去体会,真真切切的感受周围。
就算痛苦,就算是泪,也是属于我的伤悲。
我还能用谁的心去体会,真真切切的感受周围。
就算疲倦,就算是累,也只能执迷而不悔。

别说我应该放弃,应该睁开眼。
我用我的心,去看去感觉。
你并不是我,又怎能了解。
就算是执迷,(就)让我执迷不悔。

我不是你们想的如此完美,
我承认有时也会辨不清真伪。
并非我不愿意走出迷堆,
只是这一次,这次是自己而不是谁。

要我用谁的心去体会,真真切切的感受周围。
就算痛苦,就算是泪,也是属于我的伤悲。
我还能用谁的心去体会,真真切切的感受周围。
就算疲倦,就算是累,也只能执迷而不悔。

要我用谁的心去体会,真真切切的感受周围。
就算痛苦,就算是泪,也是属于我的伤悲。
我还能用谁的心去体会,真真切切的感受周围。
就算疲倦,就算是累,也只能执迷而不悔。

A lost cause... I have become...

Monday, September 25, 2006

NaNoWriMo Warm-up Snippet #6

I begin:
...It was a little after midnight. Feeling a little peckish, he got out of his chair, grabbed his coat and left his apartment. As he walked down the stairs of the block, he slipped into his coat and braced himself for the harsh wind that was blowing outside.

Stepping out of the block, he was immediately greeted with the strong and cold wind of the deep night. Huddling deeper into his coat and slouching against the wind, he marched on stoically, towards the nearby Café, the only food place that was open at that time of the night.

As his face was blasted with the cold air, he found himself thinking once again about her. Her warm demeanour, her soulful eyes—no. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was never going to be possible; he should stop thinking about what was never to be. His mind a blank now, he trudged on towards the Café. Upon reaching, he reached out and pulled open the door, and went in.

It was different from the last time that he remembered it. The music was playing loudly in the background, the same as before. But it was the people, the people were different; the last time he came to the place, there were only a handful of night owls who kept largely to themselves, nursing whatever beverage they had bought. But it was different tonight; not only there were many more people, they seemed to be more jovial and friendly to each other.

He didn't care. Having had enough of the world at the moment, he ordered his snack and waited impatiently while it was being prepared. Then, when the order completed, he took his plate of sandwich and chips and made his way to the only corner of the café where it was still fairly quiet. Pulling the chair away from the table, he sat down, and nibbled on his sandwich.

Then she came in through the door. She was dressed in black all over, a sexy gothic kind of black. Her black gloved hands removed her silky black trench coat revealing a tank top hugging close to her luscious curves, and her long pants tracing the sensual contours of her rear and her legs, before stopping short at her calves, where black stilettoes continued the cover. She was smiling, and the radiance of her dazzling smile and her fair features made her so tempting.

Of course she was noticed. No one in the Café could ever miss a sight like that—her sexed up attire screamed for attention, and the attention was given. Some of the guys in the Café approached her, offering to buy her a drink or two, while some blokes even made suggestive passes. But she ignored them all, and walked on instead, still smiling sweetly, but to have come seemingly with a single purpose.

He couldn't be bothered. He was still nibbling on his sandwich when he found that someone had moved the chair across him and sat down. Mildly irritated that his solitude was encroached upon, he looked up with the intention to scold, but what he saw made him lose his will.

She was sitting directly opposite him. Her long black silky hair flowing and resting comfortably across her bare shoulders. And her soft eyes positively twinkled as she looked at him, and together with her smile, they promptly melted his heart.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

A series of Unfortunate events

And so it is, a series of unfortunate events that have occurred recently. Granted, not all of the stuff affect me personally (read: as in me experiencing the event), but they still affect me all the same.

First off, something that is of a global issue. Thailand had a bloodless coup in which the military took over the government, thereby excising the position of the previous prime minister. All these before the newly arranged elections which was due sometime in October. *shakes head* What is the world turning into...?

Naq EK'f eryngvbafuvc sryy ncneg. Sbe fbzr haxabja ernfba, gurl whfg... sryy ncneg. Dhvgr fnqqravat; ur chg fb zhpu snvgu va gur eryngvbafuvc, ohg gura vg sryy guebhtu. Gur bayl guvat gung V ubcr vf gung ur vf abg fb urneg oebxrarq naq zragnyyl ybfg gung ur qbrf ernyyl fvyyl naq fghcvq guvatf gb uvzfrys. N cvgl gung V nz ab ybatre arne uvz—V pna bayl qb fb zhpu sebz guvf fvqr bs gur jbeyq.

Homework work load is starting to increase. Almost all of the initial advantage of advanced knowledge that I have is no longer available; the material of the courses have started to cross the threshold of the A-level syllabus. Time to work much harder now, I guess... All these homework grading schemes are killing me. It now seems that I do not have an advantage of completing my homework early, considering the fact that I spend a considerable amount of time trying to learn the material on my own, and even more time trying to apply what I've read on the question set. Frustrating. Maybe I should only do my homework about one day before at most so that I can perform better in the homework. This is starting to become crucial, as homework does count as factors of the final grade that I will have. Already I'm missing the 90% score requirement; I really don't know how am I supposed to be able to bring myself up to 90% without killing myself in the process.

Eryngvbafuvc ceboyrzf nobhaq. V sbhaq gung gurer ner n srj tveyf jubz V frrz gb unir qrirybcrq n yvxvat sbe, ohg V qba'g xabj ubj gb cebprrq. Creuncf V fubhyq whfg xrrc ernyyl dhvrg nobhg vg nyy, naq whfg ubcr gung gurl yvxr zr gbb. Ba n frcnengr abgr, V frevbhfyl guvax gung gur Fvatncberna pebjq qbrfa'g yvxr zr gbb zhpu, rfcrpvnyyl MJ. Thrff univat fgenvarq eryngvbafuvcf ner cneg naq cnepry bs jung qrsvarf zr gb or zr.

Like Jess, I'm starting to have serious doubts on my own abilities in my purported "pet" field—Computer Science. All the technical mumbo-jumbo, weird visualisation techniques and strange and arcane nuances of the language that they are teaching are starting to seriously make me reconsider my field of study. It does not help that everyone around me seems to be even more geeky on the topic than I am; guess that means I'm either meeting my match, or have already been pwned a long time ago. Either way, I am not feeling too good about myself on this issue. I'll just have to stick it out and hope to survive well enough so as to be able to do research next time.

Naq Avpbyr, ure ernpgvba frrzf jrveq. Ba gur bar unaq, fur frrzf cerggl pbby nobhg orvat sevraqf, lrg V frafrq n pregnva sbez bs vauvovgvba. Gur ivorf ner abg tbbq; fur frrzf gb or gheavat vagb lrg nabgure LG, jub, ol abj, unir pbzcyrgryl rkpbzzhavpngrq jvgu zr. Vs V fnl gung V'z hapbaprearq, V'z ylvat. Gurfr cnggreaf ner fgnegvat gb jbeel zr; V ubcr gung vg jba'g unccra, gubhtu V xabj va gur qrrcrfrg erprffrf bs zl zvaq gung vg jvyy unccra abarguryrff; bayl jurgure vg vf abj be yngre. Ohg vg jvyy qrsvavgryl bpphe. V'z fb hfrq gb gur fvtaf bs orvat ba gur iretr bs rkpbzzhavpngvba gung V pna fzryy vg pbzvat rira orsber vg neevirf.

And the department, they changed the prerequisite structure of our CS Major course. They have reduced the level of our current programming course from 200 to 100. And they increased the unit count from 9.0 to 10.0. What makes it worse is the fact that all these changes are done when we are almost a third into the course, and there is no retroactive fixing of our units. Maddening indeed.

I guess that all these are bad enough for now.

Ed: Yes, I am well aware that there are paragraphs of strange-looking words. They are in code due to certain sensitivities.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Feeling low

This week feels weird. For some strange reason, I just feel low. It seems like the initial advantage of the A-level syllabus is slowly drying up, and it's time to be even more hardworking now.

Made a few silly mistakes in my Math homework; when computing the negation of a statement, I negated the relation in the existentional/universal quantifier. That made me lose 5 marks for the homework (out of 60). Then, for a question which required a choice of the correct statement, I wrote the wrong option, but due to the fact that I did not incorporate an explanation of my reasoning, I lost 10 marks for that part. So, I nailed myself with a maximum score of 75%. :-( This sucks...

My homework scores seem to be falling as time goes by. Each time I match my homework answers with my neighbours', they seem to be totally and absolutely wrong. Time to stop doing homework too early... where the stuff that I self-learn is not as effective as that of what the Professor teaches.

On a separate note, I'm starting on the final plans for the plot for my novel-to-be for NaNoWriMo. Having not written narrative fiction for so long, I find myself being rusty in terms of trying to put together a decent plot. This is especially so as I'm attempting to write a *gasp* romance novel.

Whether the novel flops or not will be seen in time... I may post up snippets of it while I'm working on it in November when NaNoWriMo is in operation.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

A pair of bittersweet songs

《至少我走得比你早》
卢巧音

你没有想过,我会说分手,
也许太习惯,我在你左右。
虽然离开你有很多理由,
可看见你这样惊讶,也足够。

我想得,比你多,陪你一起跟寂寞。
我性格,比你强,怎样做你的绵羊?
我年轻,比你小,不信快乐找不到。
抬起头,开了口……

最后我比你骄傲!从此不做你的牢!
想不到你的好,记得和你的争吵。
想到老可到老,可是和你做不到。
如果你爱得比我少,至少我走得比你早。

你没有想过,我会说分手,
除非以为我,什么都忍受。
就算你这时候,努力挽留,
不过是你不能接受,我先走。

我想得,比你多,陪你一起更寂寞。
我性格,比你强,怎样做你的绵羊?
我年轻,比你小,不信快乐找不到。
抬起头,开了口……

最后我比你骄傲!从此不做你的牢!
想不到你的好,记得和你的争吵。
想到老可到老,可是和你做不到。
如果你爱得比我少,至少我走得比你早。

轰轰烈烈的开口……

最后我比你骄傲!从此不做你的牢!
想不到你的好,记得和你的争吵。
想到老可到老,可是和你做不到。
如果你爱得比我少,幸好我走得比你早。
《好心分手》(粤)
卢巧音

是否很驚訝,講不出說話,
沒錯我是說:“你想分手嗎?”
曾給你馴服到 就像綿羊,
何解會反咬你一下,你知嗎?

回頭望,伴你走,從來未曾幸福過。
赴過湯,蹈過火,沿途為何沒愛河?
下半生,陪住你,懷疑快樂也不多。
沒有心,別再拖……

好心一早放開我!從頭努力也坎坷!
通通不要好過,來年歲月那麼多。
為繼續而繼續,沒有好處還是我。
若註定有一點苦楚,不如自己親手割破。

是否不甘心,首先給撇下,
換了你是我,你忍得到嗎?
捱得過無限次,寂寞凌遲,
人心態早已看得化,也可怕……

回頭望,伴你走,從來未曾幸福過。
赴過湯,蹈過火,沿途為何沒愛河?
下半生,陪住你,懷疑快樂也不多。
沒有心,別再拖……

好心一早放開我!從頭努力也坎坷!
通通不要好過,來年歲月那麼多。
為繼續而繼續,直接不過承認錯,
若勉強也分到不多,不如甚麼也摔破。

難捱就無謂再拖……

好心一早放開我!從頭努力也坎坷!
通通不要好過,來年歲月那麼多。
為繼續而繼續,沒有好處還是我。
若註定有一點苦楚,不如自己親手割破。


A pair of bittersweet songs from the same singer; one's in Mandarin while the other is in Cantonese. Read the lyrics, and compare their level of bitterness...

*sigh*

No mood to write more. :-(

Saturday, September 16, 2006

沢尻エリカ


She can sing! Oh my... *swoons*

And yeah, if you haven't realised, I simply adore 沢尻エリカ! She's like the human equivalent of Edythe Fujitsu~!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

I walk a lonely road
The only one that I have ever known
Don't know where it goes
But it's home to me and I walk alone


My path in life is solitary; people come by, and walk beside me only for a fleeting moment. It's always the same; when I try to change, I realise I end up on the same road that I knew.

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
and I'm the only one and I walk alone


And my dreams were shattered, more than once. And the world, it doesn't care. It moves on, and I go on solitarily.

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone


But it is the few closest friends that I have left, Chinghua, Jessica, Xiaolu and Cuilin who are always there when I need them. What am I to do if I can't find them?

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I'm walking down the line
That divides me somewhere in my mind
On the border line
Of the edge and where I walk alone


A constant dilemma on who I really am. Am I the technogeek that I make myself out to be, or am I something more? Will I ever be as human as I wish to be?

Read between the lines
What's fucked up and everything's alright
Check my vital signs
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone


But barely. Sometimes, it takes effort to just—have the will to stay alive. But the journey is still as solitary as before.

I walk alone
I walk alone

I walk alone
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah
Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I walk alone
I walk a...

I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Where the city sleeps
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone...


And so. *sigh*

I walk alone on the boulevard of broken dreams...

Thursday, August 31, 2006

NaNoWriMo Warm-up Snippet #5

I begin:
... He sat at his desk, his book opened on the table. There was work to be done, but somehow he couldn't put his mind to it. There was a sense of foreboding; a feeling of unease that he couldn't explain. It wasn't about the work that he had to complete, neither was it the impending cold from winter. He looked up from his book, staring blankly at the wall behind his table lamp.

What if she said no?

He shuddered from the thought. He had put everything that was dear to him on the line, hoping to the high winds that she would be willing to spend her life with him. Never did he take failure as a possible option; there was no room for failure. He couldn't bear the thought of failing; his world would just collapse all around him. She was as good as a girl could be; though they met only for a short while, he felt that there was something special in her that drew him closer and closer to her. It was her eyes; the same expressive eyes which told him that she wanted someone to be her hero, someone to love her as deeply as it was mortally possible.

The wind howled. Momentarily distracted from his thoughts, he got up and closed the window. The wind howled on, muted. As he stood by the closed window, he looked on into the darkness, again lost in his thoughts. He was in a dilemma; inasmuch as he wanted an answer from her, he dreaded the moment when he realised that his dream was not to be.

"Unchained Melody" was playing softly on the radio from the other room. It accentuated his helplessness further. Cocking his head to his right, he drew in the soft melody, his heart heavier with each beat from the bass.

"God speed your love to me," he mouthed silently. ...

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

On writing

I love writing. This comes up as a strange fact to talk about, but actually, I started off as a writer before I became a computer programmer, the latter of which had become my default persona that I adopt.

It all began a long time ago, when I loved reading fiction and non-fiction books. Learning to read them was one thing; I found that I could understand what the items were written inside the books, which was pretty wonderful. My writing "career" kicked-off properly when I was in Primary Six, where I had the most wonderful English teacher that anyone could ever ask for: Mr Lin Min.

Mr Lin was the head of department of English of my primary school. A mild-mannered man, he was unlike most of the teachers in the school. For one, he treated us like adults (even though we were at least 6 years away from being anything remotely like an adult). For two, he was completely into English, taking every opportunity to teach us/correct us on proper English usage. His notes for the class were unique; they didn't cover the primary school syllabus, but was based on the standard of English that was in existence in the real world. As such, the information that was contained in the hand outs were of immense use, and I do refer to them at least once a year after that to refresh myself on the proper usage of certain English terms.

His total devotion to teaching us the English language the way that the English language was used can be seen in the way that he metes out punishment. Unlike other teachers who use uncreative means of punishment like staying back after class, or even to write lines, Mr Lin would provide a topic and set a word limit, for which we would need to write an essay pertaining to the topic and meeting the word limit at the same time. Most of the time, the essays were to be completed either on the day itself or at the latest, the next morning. The most interesting thing about this exercise was the fact that he actually marked each and every essay that we write, regardless of it being class work or punishment. Needless to say, that was where I had most of my writing training from, for I was always finding myself in some situation of sorts where I would be "punished".

The word limits started off innocent enough. A couple of hundred words, maybe three or four hundred words, which is roughly the number of words that a decent essay written by a primary school student should have. However, as the days went on, the word limits increased slowly, first to five hundred, then to eight hundred (roughly the number of words that the A-level General Paper essay should contain), and sloowly exceeding a thousand words. All these writing training meant that I could easily write anything under the sun under any word limit that was set, and at a decent speed too. I was so caught up in all these writing that even for my final examinations (the PSLE), I wrote something like a two-thousand-word essay or something; all I could remember was that I used two booklets of writing paper, even though the usual number of booklets used is under one.

I daresay that Mr Lin Min has taught me all that I needed to know to communicate effectively in English. The subsequent years' English lessons were mainly to enrich myself; I never strayed far away from his teachings. I usually best the time limit and word limit of all the essay-based English papers that I ever took. I guess my intuition in the English language was strengthened over the years, but the initial push was done by Mr Lin Min. That I can say without a doubt.

But of course, when I was in secondary school, I found a higher calling in the field of computer programming, which was really another form of writing, except that this time, it was a clearer and more concise language than the English language. Though I was still good in English, there were others who were significantly better than me, so I kept a low profile on my language skills, and stuck with my programming persona for the rest of my years.

It was when the blog came about that I had the chance to reignite my passion for writing.

My first blog was on poetry. Poems are writings that I feel passionate about. Having taken English Literature at the O-levels, I've come to better appreciate the nuances that co-exist with the compactness of a poem. I find that writing poems are more liberating, as it could really stretch my self-imposed limits on vocabulary and expressiveness. Unlike prose, which can get too wordy in order to bring about a nuance, poems are more succinct. Each line of the poem carries substantially more information than each line of prose. And poems are beautiful works of art; in it you can feel the passion of the poet, about the things that the poet feels strongly about, about the things that the poet is writing on explicitly, about the things that the poet is implying through the inobvious writings.

I like writing prose. It is more base than poems, since most of the time you have the luxury of using many more words to bring out the ideas and thoughts that you want to say. Prose can be beautiful too, but they lack the compactness and the Aha! factor that poems bring about to the reader. And to pull off nuances in prose is just disaster-prone; too many words means that the nuances can be easily lost in the cataclysmic avalanche of words.

I gain inspiration for my poems based on what my mind is thinking about. If you've read the flagship blog, you'd realise that most of the time, the poems are written either at night or in the dead of the night. Sometimes, they come during the day, but those that I consider among my best works are usually inspired when it gets dark outside. I guess that when it is dark out, that's when my mind starts to relax into its best state, and that's where the creative juices just flow on unhampered. It also helps that in the dead of the night, there is hardly any noise from the outside, and that makes concentrating so much easier to accomplish.

That's all I have on my writing, for now.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

And so ends day 1

Yeah, it's the end of classes for today. Pretty interesting experience over here. Instead of monster-sized 100-minute blocks for lectures, we have nice juicy blocks of no more than 50 minutes each. This allocation of time seems near optimal—the professor teaches less per lesson, shorter lessons mean greater breaks interspersed, and all these add up to a refreshing experience for learning in general. Studies have shown that having small but frequent breaks are much more useful in aiding content retention, and it seems that that is what they are practising here. This, added to the diversity of the topics that are taught, allows the mind to be fully utilised in such a way that synergises the energies within, causing a result that is greater than the sum of the individual constituents.

Now, if I conscientiously review the material that I've learnt through the day, there is almost little effort required to retain all the knowledge learnt. Evil...

Monday, August 28, 2006

And so classes begin

After almost 3 years of living in the real world, it's time to re-immerse myself back into the pretend world of academia. Not that I've not done any studying during my brief stay in the real world, but that the pace and way of life is set to change once in such a academic setting.

So, looks like I need to re-learn all the nifty tricks of the trade that I employed so long ago during JC in order to stay ahead of the pack.

Anyway, on a separate note, I finally saw a real life PDP-11 machine! It looked so cool, with one big printed circuit board with 36 leds and roughly the same number of switches below, and next to it was the programmer's manual. It's like a dream come true to be able to see such a legendary machine.

And further down from the display case where the PDP-11 was housed, was the most powerful-looking slide rule I'd ever seen. It's like even more powerful than the Staedler one that my father passed down to me. It has inspired me to start dreaming of all kinds of scales to add to a slide rule, and it will only be time before I assemble my very own multi-purpose slide rule.

My room mates are great people. They are fun to be with, and have amazing things to share, like Hot Pockets and a colour printer. Just enjoyed an interesting dinner last night with them at Subway; am attempting to know them better as opposed to clumping with all the Singaporean students. One of them has even suggested that I spend winter at his place! I thanked him for the offer and said that I'd certainly take it up if my plan to visit Cui in Toronto is totally screwed. :-)

And so, classes begin...

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Excommunication

The wonders of being excommunicated. When you get excommunicated by a group, you tend to sit down, preferably under a Bodhi tree, and meditate on the issue. Despite what others say about you, you pause to think a little more deeply into the matter. And then you'll realise that the situation is only because both parties (you vs them) have set up the case of excommunication.

You live your life the way that you think is the form that is worth living. They find you plain odd, and decided that you embarrass them with your antics. What both don't realise is a clash of ideology. You think that as long as you are not breaking any rules or laws, it is okay to do whatever you want to do. They think that if you are not socially conforming to the norm, you will embarrass them, especially when you are tagging along in their group.

A clash of ideologies. The world is a free place; it has place for everyone of every race, every creed. What limits who we are with, what we can do, how we do it has nothing to do with the world, it has everything to do with the narrowness of our own perception of what the world is. It is due to the innate shallowness of people that cause the multitude of problems stemming from non-tolerance of people who are different.

Of course, there are deviant lines of thought that threaten the society as a whole; these thoughts are best dealt with to prevent the collapse of civilised society. However, there are so many other people around who believe in different things, who do things differently. If we were to excommunicate them, aren't we reducing the meme pool from which our diversity and social survivability stem from?

So, after you sit and meditate on the issue, you realise that it is not the fault of any single entity; both parties are to be blamed. But now, a tough question remains: do you want to re-integrate into the group or totally dismiss them and seek your own fortunes somewhere else?

Nostalgia

"The most painful thing on Earth is a pleasant memory. This nostalgia that sometimes comes over us isn't an accident. It's a message. It has something to tell us. We're programmed to indulge in life, but this haunting nostalgia is a sublimal message from another plane... Touching it, you touch the Eternal."

~ Richard Rose, from After the Absolute by David Gold with Bart Marshall

Ed: This is... very philosophical.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Because Jess did this for me...

If you comment on this post:

1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll challenge you to try something.
3. I'll pick a color that I associate with you.
4. I'll tell you something I like about you.
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something I've always wanted to ask you.
8. If I do this for you, you must re-post this on your blog.

Ed: Ugh... free spam... >.<

Friday, August 25, 2006

It's hard to be a good person

Anguish. There's no other way to speak of it but thus. Anguish is what I feel now... It's the kind of inexplicable sadness that one sometimes feels especially when the events seem to suggest that nothing done will ever be right.

I try to be a good person. I'm not rich, nor famous, nor handsome, nor smart. But I try my best to be a good person, to help those who need help, to support people who need support, to care for those whom I want to care. But... as always, Fate plays cruel tricks on me. My silent help is often unappreciated, and I'm often ostracised, no matter where I am.

*sigh*

Here, in America, with no one to call kith or kin, I entrust my sense of belonging to the small community of my fellow countrymen. Yet... at times I feel as though they are no different from the Americans; strangers all of them seem to be, aloof and even at times, biting cold. I cannot comprehend this feeling that I have. Sometimes when they speak, it seems that they have some other form of communication of which I'm not privileged enough to be part of. Again this is happening. Again I'm getting cut out of the group.

Perhaps it's time to revert to the old ways, as detestful as it may be.

I thought I'd changed much as a person, but the reality check proved otherwise. I'm still the same old loner I was, just that this time, my loner attribute is more camouflaged than before, under the many layers of personas that I've carefully crafted over the years. But scratch deep enough through my personas, it's still the same old me that I was for so long.

*sigh*

Why? Why must it be the case that I need to end up in such a situation?

With sadness, I turn and walk away, a stray tear escaping from my eye.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

M2M, 邓丽君, Michael Learns to Rock, Atomic Kitten and whatever

My playlist is weird. Well, I have music from several genres, from English ballads to oldies, to Mandarin ballads and oldies, to Trance, and instrumental pieces spanning from people like Nobuo Uematsu and some classical pieces, to the Zen-like Kitaro, to the Chinese Orchestra pieces. Seems like most of the main types of music are represented, perhaps only those that are metal-like.

Among all the songs that I have, I find myself listening mainly to my ballads, whether they are Mandarin or English. I dunno... I just find that the ballads are more soothing to listen to, and the emotive content from within just seems to resonate strongly with my innate character. Only thing that I regret not doing before flying over is to rip my Disney Love Songs CD and another Mandarin music CD that I bought about 2 days before my flight and have no time to rip them to perfection.

Perhaps, it's because of the way that I am. I'm learning how to better control my emotions such that they do not all come out as a chunk or worse, being kept deep within myself without every releasing them. Seems like I'm having some progress in this... Hopefully, I'd be able to master this skill well enough to be able to accomplish more.

Just some random posting from nowhere...

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

NaNoWriMo Warm-up Snippet #4

I begin:
... He stood in the middle of the lawn, halfway around the world, lost in his own thoughts as much as being lost in the crowd. The midday sun was scorching hot, yet he felt no heat as the cool breeze brushed by. The throng of people seemed to be non-existent; all that he could saw was her face, her beautiful eyes and her soft smile, and all that he could feel was the warmness of her breath when she spoke, and the soft and delightful sensation when she touched his hand, and all he could hear was the passion in her voice when she spoke of her favourite subjects.

The breeze died. It grew warmer. He was still in the middle of the lawn, completely engrossed in his thoughts of her. He didn't notice his friend approaching him from behind, didn't notice his friend quietly stepping up close, and didn't notice his friend poised to strike.

Tap tap on the shoulder. "Hey! Ready to go?"

"?! Argh... why did you have to— oh well, nevermind, let's go."

His daydream shattered, he turned around and started following his friend, who was already ahead. Silently, he muttered "I miss you so much dear" before he quickened his pace to catch up. ...


Inspired by location in CMU

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

I'm at the airport

I'm now at Changi Airport with Michael. Will be offline for at least 48 hours.

See you all soon. :-)

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Maiden attempt at fireworks...

Another picture blog post, I'm afraid. This time this is on the Fireworks Festival held last night.


I went with Chinghua and Ding Ding for the photo shoot. The place was packed, and I, having the smallest camera around, had to sit below Ding Ding's ginormous tripod for my take of the fireworks. Yeah yeah, I know I should have brought a tripod, but...


Skyline! This is before the fireworks started...

The next few shots are but the few that are "passable" using my non-tripod photo-taking skills...














Looks horrible, right? Well, next summer, when I'm back, I'll bring a tripod and take better pictures. ;-)

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Picture post of Kangyi's party

I've been writing for the last few days... my brain is now in cramps and can't really think straight. Anyway, here's a list of the pictures I took at Kangyi's party last Saturday. Enjoy. :-)


Cheryl looking at Kangyi's photographs. Trust me, if you missed looking at his photographs, you missed a lot of err... interesting stuff. ;-)


Draw your own conclusions, people. *evil grin*


Same same.


More guests, about the second wave or so.


As above.


Cheryl and Dr Broke in a duet (where did those fingers around Cheryl's right arm come from?! (no no no... not Cheryl's fingers, but look closely at the right arm...))


One sweet high-pitched singer and all the rest slacking somewhat.


Close-up view of the sweet high-pitched singer.


This bunch didn't sing at all (why?).


Me. The back-stage back-up singer for songs that were picked and no one sang... Included one weird song Hound Dog by Elvis Presley (now, who picked that?).


Ah, Francine the pro singer. Must have caught her at a bad time with this shot. Oops...


Belting out a piece that I don't think I could remember... Saturday is like 2+ days ago, and so many things have happened that I can't really remember now. :-P


Yay~ Nicole made it to the party in the end. Posed with Dickson in this shot.


A stitched picture of almost everyone near the end of the party. I'm not in the picture because I am behind the camera. Hahahaha...


Final shot with Nicole at the end of the party. (We got chased out by the management again :-( )

Monday, August 07, 2006

NaNoWriMo Warm-up Snippet #3

I begin:
... "Oh come on! You've never taken a picture with me before, let's just do it now," she said as she was lightly tugging at his sleeves.

"Uh, okay, sure, why not? Let me get my camera first," he said as he fished out his digital camera from his pouch.

"Hey dude, could you do us a favour and take a picture of us?"

"Sure, why not?"

He handed his camera to the bystander and gave some simple operating instructions. Then, he walked towards her and took position.

Instinctively, the two of them stood close together, afraid of not being in the view of the camera. Her arm was lightly touching his chest, her head subtly tilted, and she smiled. He stood slightly behind her, angled slightly, and trying to look as macho as he could to match her apparent feminine charms. His heart increased its rate ever so slightly from the warmness of her arm.

"Smile!"

Her smile grew radiant; his was wrily hinted with a slight upmovement of the side of his lips. At that moment, he, who had rarely been photographed, felt both ecstatic and proud that he could have the honour of having a photograph taken with her.

Click.

"Alright, it's done."

"Hey thanks a lot!" He said as he took the camera back from the bystander.

"I'll send you the picture once I get home."

"Sure, why not?" She smiled sweetly as she replied.

His heart melted there and then. ...


Inspired by photo taken with Nicole

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Massive Panorama

Finally, I can do something that I like doing best; constructing impossibly large field of view panoramas. With my new digital camera and Edythe's processing power, I've managed to create a nice panorama of the view as seen from the 21st floor where Cheryl lives. Behold!

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

NaNoWriMo Warm-up Snippet #2

I begin:
... They sat at the table in the hawker centre, opposite each other. Around them, their friends were happily chatting away. She laughed at a funny comment by one, and then, for a moment, their eyes met. In that split second, he felt that his world was suddenly brighter, and that the other people were just shadowy figures lurking in the background. All that mattered there and then was that she had seen him. Her eyes seemed to have a sparkle that just draw him like a firefly, and he just felt like giving her a warm hug there and then. Seemingly sensing his thoughts, she averted her gaze, and his heart was chilled. Perhaps there was another time where he could tell her how he really felt. ...


Inspired by a recent gathering

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Farewell Concert

One of the best nights that I had. My farewell concert with the Orchestra that I played with for more than a decade.

This entry is going to be dry... I just couldn't bear to write out my feelings without having committed the happenings to words. Anyway, here goes.

Presenting....



It was the night of pure magic. 《音之彩》 is the first full concert that my Chinese Orchestra has put up within her 16 years of existence. We had lots of performances, but never did we ever put up one that was of this magnitude and publicity. The concert was truly the performance that we could truly call as our own; most of the time, our performances were done on invitation by various grassroot organisations for the multitude of events that they host.

The many months of planning cumulated to this one night. This concert is significant for another reason other than the one I said; it is also a farewell concert for me by the orchestra. It is the concert before I fly off to the States for further studies. With that as a backdrop, my feelings are very mixed; on the one hand, I feel ecstatic that we are putting up a professional-level concert, on the other hand, I feel a deep sense of sadness as I realise that this will be the last time that I'd be jamming with my fellow orchestra members on such a scale at this point in time.

——



The stage is set. The instruments are arranged together with the chairs. Let not the appearance deceive you—all of the setting up is done by our members and not by any other crew members. This is surely the one thing that I will miss the most; the camaradarie of my fellow members and the great sense of mutual understanding between each other. Not to forget the amazing levels of cooperation that we can muster; there was never a time where any member had to do anything alone without any form of help. Us guys will help in the movement of the instruments from our practice room in the Community Club down to the lobby, then up the bus, before debussing and then moving them into place on stage, while the girls will help in moving all the miscelleanous items which they could manage. In fact, that is where I got my strength training from—by carrying heavy musical instruments like the 扬琴 and the 笙 up and down the many flights of stairs.

Usually, I feel adequately prepared for any of the performances that we put up, even if I need to put up a solo piece. But for some reason, my stomach was fluttering during the wait between the setting up to my appearance on stage. It wasn't hunger, neither was it outright fear; it seemed to be an amalgamation of anticipation and some slight apprehension of having to face a possible negative outcome. As I stood in the sidelines waiting for the members to file out to fill up their corresponding places, the fluttering grew in magnitude until I felt that my legs were somewhat wobbly.

The emcee went out from the wings and started the programme going. As she read the prepared script, I distracted myself by lovingly caressing my 笛子s, and telling them softly not to fail me at a critical time like this. That calmed my nerves somewhat, and the fluttering gave way to a warmth that slowly spread throughout my being. When the emcee went in and it was time for my appearance, I gave my 笛子s a final kiss and boldly stepped into the limelight, with 智琦 in front. 智琦 went up the conductor's podium while I stood at the soloist spot, preparing my 笛子 for the two solo pieces that I prepared.

On her cue, I started on 《姑苏行》.

——



《姑苏行》 was a piece meant to describe the scenery of 苏州 (Suzhou) through the eyes of a traveller on the way back home. It used the longer version of the 笛子 known as the 曲笛. With her cue, any remnants of my earlier unease went away as I focused my concentration on the emotive content of the piece. It starts off with a strong feeling of nostalgia, as the long and slow notes slowly piece together a certain fondness of the place as remembered by the traveller. The slow notes give way to a blossoming of sights before slowing down to allow the traveller to board the train. The train chugs on, pass the scenery, and with each closer movement towards his hometown, he gets more and more excited, until when the train stops and he gets off. He is at bliss; finally returning home, and he's just standing there, absorbing the scenery that he has missed for so long.

I bowed slightly at the polite applause from an appreciate audience. I bent and switched to my 梆笛, which is just a shorter version of the 笛子, in preparation for the next piece, 《牧民新歌》.

——



The nomadic horsemen of the Northern plains, that's what 《牧民新歌》 is all about. It starts with a Northern plain sunrise, a far-off subtle glow bathing the vast plains with virginal sunlight. As the sunlight gains intensity, the nomadic tribes stir, first with the horses, then slowly the horsemen themselves. As the morning slowly creeps in, the horsemen start their early morning song to wake the day up. The song is full of the carefree life that they lead, and is full of the vim that they possess. After awaking completely, the horsemen mount their steeds for a canter on the plains. The canter starts of slowly, and slowly reaches to a gallop. At this point, the nomadic horsemen are shown to their full glory; their pride as being nomadic horsemen and the pride that they have on their horses are fully captured in the strong and long notes at this point. The tempo increases and the focus is reshifted to that of the horses. At this point, the horses are running at a full gallop, neck to neck, as the horsemen ride faster and harder to outrace each other. The race gets very competitive, until one horse wins; it neighs in triumph and its horseman is full of pride that he has won. The rest pitter patter through and the nomadic horsemen congratulate each other of the race and the piece ends triumphant of the indomitable spirit of the nomadic Northern horsemen.

And thus ended my two solo pieces. The audience applauded, and I picked up my 笛子s and went back into the sidelines, while 智琦 took up her place behind her 杨琴.

——



The next piece is a very special one. It is a duet between my sifu (英成) and I. I've learnt most of my 笛子 skills from 英成, and it seems appropriate to have a duet with him on my farewell concert as a form of acknowledgement and gratitude for the years that he spent in teaching and training me to be the 笛子 player that I am today. 英成 is very liberal with his knowledge; he is willing to share with me the little insights that he has learnt through the hard way to help me avoid the same mistakes that he had made earlier. From initial reluctance due to me being very young, to the strong mutual understanding between he and I, we have indeed gone a long way. Upon reflection, I realise that I'd never had a proper duet with him before, and so, this seemed to be the perfect opportunity to showcase the camaraderie between my sifu and I.



《山乡晨曲》 is about the scenery of a village in the morning. The piece starts with the 曲笛 ushering in the misty sunrise into the village. The village stirs alive slowly, and slowly, the children's song and dance break out into the village. The vibrancy of the dance and song is highlighted by the 梆笛's shrill staccato notes. Towards the end, the flutter tongue and many staccato notes bring out the climax of the piece to its final conclusion.

And so ends my solo part of the concert. Once my sifu and I took a bow to the audience amid applause, we walked back into the wings. In the wings, euphoria set in as the pressure is off me now. On the way down the stage through the back door, 李老师 was there and he personally shook both 英成 and my hands and said that we did well!

And so, my 13 years of playing on the 笛子 has led to this. I'm glad.

——

The next part of the concert was on 智琦. She is the lead 杨琴 player of our orchestra. She plays an important role in our orchestra as the 杨琴 is a central instrument in the balance of the various sections. In most pieces, the 杨琴 is almost absolutely necessary as it is the Chinese Orchestra equivalent of a piano. In fact, 智琦 started her segment with a piece that showcases the 杨琴 as the Chinese piano.

《山丹丹花开红艳艳》 is a piece that describes the scenery of flowers in bloom. Amid the blooming flowers, it also subtly shows the various emotions evoked through the masterful application of various techniques of playing the 杨琴, some of which are not even used during mainstream playing, like plucking the strings with the reverse end of the 杨琴柱. 智琦 teased a resounding piano flavour out of the 杨琴, her strokes are delicate at the pianissimo portions, and are forceful at the forte parts. The impact of the force can only be described as explosive; coupled with the excellent sensitivity of the microphone, the illusion of the 杨琴 being the Chinese piano is complete. It was one of the most beautiful pieces that I'd ever heard her play; each stroke stirred very strong emotions within me, even though I was standing in the wings of the stage at that time.

As a way of showcasing her excellent ability in accompaniment, 智琦 was to accompany the three 中阮 players for their piece. The three players of the 中阮 were Luomin, Peijun and Xiuqing. The piece they played was 《引水上山坡》.

——



《引水上山坡》 is a piece on the collective efforts of a group of villagers who were trying to bring water up a hill. The 中阮 is a mellow instrument, which was great at simulating the huff and puff feeling of the villagers making their way up the hill. Coupled with strong strokes from 智琦's 杨琴, the illusion of a tough uphill climb becomes ever so real. The amazing thing about it all was that the three 中阮 players are all in their teenage, and yet they managed to play the piece with the gusto that it so desperately wants to be. It was a great first attempt by them, and I salute them.

The next piece up was 《赛马》, an 二胡 group piece. 智琦 was still playing the accompaniment, but this time, it was about 7 of the 二胡 players who came on stage to play.



Leading the charge was Junyuan the "unstable". 《赛马》 is a piece that mimics the thrill and exhilaration of horse racing. The tempo is driven by the 杨琴, while the racing horses are from the 二胡 players themselves. Those of us in the wings were bracing ourselves for the cacophony that was to come; it always seemed to be the case as the level of ability of the players were different, spanning from those who just managed to master the piece, to those who were already fluent with it. Amazingly, the cacophony that we thought would ensue never came. The piece was played in the spirit that it was, and it was almost flawless.

With that, the first part of the concert ends. Phew...

After a brief reception with the VIPs during the intermission, it was on to the second half of the concert. The first to start was 李老师 with his 琵琶 solo, 《十面埋伏》.

——



《十面埋伏》 is a piece that showcases the versatility of the 琵琶. It brings out the coyness of the instrument at one point, then at another, it shows a diametically opposite view, by demonstrating its machismo personality. 李老师 plays the 琵琶 in the exact way as how a chameleon changes its spots; it brings out very many different sides to the instrument. The piece describes the horrific sights and sounds associated to the battlefield, with fearsome sounds of battle everywhere, the sick rote drill of the marching drums, the sudden onslaught punctuated by quick snippets of rest stolen from the enemy. The 琵琶's versatility is stretched to its limits as the strings get strummed, plucked, and the body gets struck, rammed and jammed.

To an appreciative audience, 李老师 bowed, and it was on to the next segment; 沛秦's 二胡 solos.

——



沛秦's solo pieces included 《二泉映月》 and 《豫北叙述回想曲》. Of the two, I only paid attention to 《二泉映月》 as it was the piece that I was involved in playing the 箫 in; there wasn't any woodwind parts in the second song.

《二泉映月》 is an emotive piece. It starts off with the 箫 leading in with a melancholous melody. The 箫, with its soft mellow voice, together with the long and simple notes, carried forth an air of resignation, almost like a sigh. The piece progresses into a form where it seemed that memories were being replayed. Then, as the music moves on, the memories get more and more recent, before climaxing to then end were the person feels that the future will not be as bleak as the past was, and walking off and futher away.

The end is near...



YES!!! Finally, something that we were all waiting for. The 大合奏 pieces. We presented two pieces that night, namely 《瑶族舞曲》 and 《乡音》. The energy level was slowly being built up at this point in time, with the end parts of both songs being played by the 梆笛, the saxophone and the 唢呐 at the same time!

Then the emcee screwed up...

We were supposed to have an encore piece entitled 《月圆花好》, but the emcee miscued and announced it to the audience. At that point, the energy level suddenly sky dived down to zero, as the surprise of the encore was totally lost. We were disappointed, and it showed as we weren't very coordinated in the piece.



And after the piece was done, we all rose and 李老师 came on stage to say a few words about our performance. The audience, somewhat lethargic yet still showing polite enthusiasm, applauded and most seemed to be ready to get up and move.

I had to do something FAST.

I sneaked out of my position at the back of the orchestra all the way to the sidelines. As 李老师 and 沛秦 walked off the stage and the emcee returning to the wings, I crept out, gave a half-assed bow to a somewhat shocked crowd, and went up to the conductor's podium. I stood there, motionless.

By now, the audience seemed to have sensed that something was a little odd, as the orchestra was well seated and I was up on the podium posing with the conductor's baton in my left hand, all poised to spring forth.

Once I was sure everyone was ready, I leapt into action. It was the climatical end to 《瑶族舞曲》!



I conducted like a raving maniac, arms all waving, head bobbing, my body rocking to the quick tempo of the section. My fellow members released themselves from their shackles and joined in with wild abandon. They played faster, harder and with more relish than the first time through.

I did my bit and conducted them with huge exaggerated actions, to further increase their overall energy level. The orchestra obeyed, and the music simply roared! By the time we reached the final crescendo, I was already feeling very high, and it was obvious that my fellow orchestra members were feeling the same too. And we ended the impromptu encore on an extremely high note.

Thus done, I swivelled around and gave a bow to the stunned audience, who reacted with thunderous applause.