In the office/lab on a Saturday morning---not my kind of weekend morning, but it suffices given the situation that I'm in. I'm kind of delayed by a few days of work this week because I had to deal with the pressing issue of a right corneal abrasion that I think I sustained from a rather vigorous training session on Monday evening.
It's funny how one doesn't really care about something before anything bad happens, and then when some strange occurrence happens, one is suddenly made aware of body parts, medical histories and physiologies that we never really paid much attention to.
Suffice to say, this condition is currently under medical supervision, and all that I can do is really to wait it out and let my body do its thing about healing the abrasion over. The medication provided is mostly prophylactic in nature, and in some senses to improve the conditions in which the wound has to encourage healing. This of course includes the properties of the reduction of the inflammatory response (via steroid eyedrops), and a general relaxation of the ``twitch'' muscles (via mydriasis and cycloplegia inducing eyedrops). Of course this leaves my right eye in a somewhat ``zombified'' state where I cannot really use it to focus on anything of importance, and this includes reading as well as other important near vision work like looking at the computer screen. Thankfully, my left eye is still doing a superb job in keeping my overall eyesight serviceable, and I am really grateful for the general adaptability of my body in general.
So, what's new in my world? Well, for some reason I find myself thinking about how life would be like to have a couple of sons or daughters about, living with them, growing up with them, and generally experiencing the joys and pains of fatherhood. It's a funny type of warm and fuzzy feeling---I have no idea how to explain this, maybe real-life fathers will know what I'm trying to convey here. Anyway, this bout of emotions and wishful thinking came about when I read this article by Regina Brett (same person who wrote the 45/50 life lessons column). It does seem like one is missing out on a lot of things in life when one does not settle down with a child or two (or more!). Some time back, my parents did mention how they never regretted having us children, even though it meant that my mum had to stop work and take care of us full-time---they never regretted it even though we were trying at times, me particularly due to my general abnormality of having skin that reacted to everything with inflammations. They never regretted it. They never regretted it.
It makes me cry when I think about what they said.
I suppose as I get older, my perspective shifts away from what I can do to improve my personal self towards something a little more... humanising, if there's a term for that. Like the random team-building events that I had gone through with various people from different stages of life, they placed family above everything else, while silly l'il me was still thinking big thoughts about meeting great people and being great in general.
When I was young, I knew about mortality, but didn't really care much about it, since when one was fourteen for instance, dying was among the last things that would come to mind. But as I grow older and reaching my one-third mark of my expected natural lifespan, the reality of mortality is starting to hit me very soon. It is hard to accept that my parents are growing old---in my eyes, they never seemed to have aged since twenty odd years ago when I was first sentient. Yet now as each day passes, I fear for their eventual infirmity, I fear for their eventual mortality. And then it makes me sad to realise that I'm probably not spending much time with them now that I'm ``all grown up'' and have a life to lead on my own. Yet when I am with them, it is hard to say anything else other than what we might usually say each day; too macho or too repressed as a culture, perhaps?
I suppose it's becoming easier and easier to understand what pains our parents went through the older we get, and it is only after some time of being away and pondering about the past and the future that makes one realise how important it is to love them now when they are still here with us.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
A Bicycle Built for... Me
While on the one hand I'm really glad to have gotten my driver's licence in Singapore, I'm still tardying a little with regards to getting the state licence in Illinois. Well, I technically still have around 60 days to get it, but that's not a major problem---it's not a problem at all. Driving is of course a most useful skill, but the maintenance and usage of the car is something that needs to be taken into consideration. Considering that Champaign-Urbana is very friendly to cycling in general, I have taken up cycling as my primary mode of transport.
So I got myself outfitted for a bicycle, a hybrid one specifically. A hybrid bicycle is a cross between the gripping power of the rugged mountain bicycle and the light-weighted speed of the road bicycle; a nice mix of the rough and the smooth, the kind of bicycle that is well suited for urban travel. The one thing that feels different riding in the US is that I need to signal with my left hand. That is a little unnerving and disorienting because I'm too used to steering with my left hand and signalling with my right---this switch of hands just takes a little getting used to. And I have now grown to love the fact that my bicycle has a mirror attached to it to look behind without having to turn all the way around, though I still look over my shoulder to check my blind spots should I have to filter left to turn left.
I'm going to build up my stamina and power to make my bicycle a most useful mode of transport, building up to the point that I can easily cover 50+km in a single day (roughly 25km out, and 25km back). I think that will help my overall goal of being stronger when I return.
Okay, enough of the cycling talk---sleeping time.
So I got myself outfitted for a bicycle, a hybrid one specifically. A hybrid bicycle is a cross between the gripping power of the rugged mountain bicycle and the light-weighted speed of the road bicycle; a nice mix of the rough and the smooth, the kind of bicycle that is well suited for urban travel. The one thing that feels different riding in the US is that I need to signal with my left hand. That is a little unnerving and disorienting because I'm too used to steering with my left hand and signalling with my right---this switch of hands just takes a little getting used to. And I have now grown to love the fact that my bicycle has a mirror attached to it to look behind without having to turn all the way around, though I still look over my shoulder to check my blind spots should I have to filter left to turn left.
I'm going to build up my stamina and power to make my bicycle a most useful mode of transport, building up to the point that I can easily cover 50+km in a single day (roughly 25km out, and 25km back). I think that will help my overall goal of being stronger when I return.
Okay, enough of the cycling talk---sleeping time.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Undoing Font Hiding in Windows
If you are on Windows 7, and after performing some update, suddenly realise that you cannot see any of your non-Latin characters in your applications when you once could, try this out. Use Win+F2 and type "C:\Windows\Fonts" and press enter. Under "Font settings", make sure that the option "Hide fonts based on language settings" is unchecked. Then, reboot. Things should work okay after that, if not well, erm, you're on your own.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Quick Evaluation
Phew, the first week of classes are finally done. I really wanted to write this entry a couple of days back, but somehow things always cropped up and I find myself having to abandon the various attempts on writing a decent entry here. Of course, I have Q10 handy for the ``just write'' type of writing that I seek, so this entry gets done that way.
The first thing that one notices when one is in graduate school is the notion that no one really gives a damn about what you do. No one gives a damn about what you do, be it your advisor, your fellow colleagues, or any one else. No one except yourself, of course. The curriculum is tailor-made for you, and you have to take charge (with the assistance of a committee of course) of what you want to/need to take in order to fulfill your academic course requirements. And then there is the whole issue of intellectual discovery---it is up to you and you alone to decide how you might want to run your research. Of course if you have a slightly more caring advisor, he/she will actually attempt to make sure that you do something along the way, but other than that, you are on your own. I sort of knew this was going to be the case prior to entering graduate school, but having witnessed it first hand makes the stories that I have heard more concrete and real.
Of course, this being the first week of the semester, things are progressing a little on the slow side, but things are not as slow as it seems. Okay, compared to CMU, things are sort of slow now (usually we would have the first round of homework assigned by the end of the week), but it is really hard to tell if this is going to be the pace that things will be running at; for all I know, this is merely the first week syndrome where things are deliberately released at a reduced pace just to ensure that any last-minute class enrolment won't lose out too much, though to be fair, it doesn't seem to be the culture here to have ``last-minute enrolments''---there doesn't seem to exist a wait list from which people can queue on while waiting to be enrolled into a class.
Living conditions-wise it has been pretty peaceful. My dorm space is really a one-room apartment on the southern outskirts of the main campus, so it tends to be much more tranquil here than say the residence halls where the undergraduates might be living in. There are of course pros and cons of this set up---it means that when I finally get myself completely at ease with this place, I will have an excellent distraction-free environment to get cracking, and not have to get into my office just to get work done. The main disadvantage is that because I live on the southern outskirts of the main campus, the daily commute to my office up in the computer science department building (Siebel Centre) can be pretty brutal. I have to take a bus up north every morning; the bus comes in 12-minute intervals between 0700hrs to 0800hrs, subsequently it runs on 20-minute intervals instead. It takes the bus around 13 to 17 minutes to arrive at the bus stop nearest to Siebel Centre, and from there, a 750-feet walk awaits me. For now, things are quite dandy because the weather is still conducive for walking, but I'm really not very sure how this is going to work out once winter sets in. And yes, I have switched to the imperial system (at least for distances) for now because the dimension of ``500 feet'' is a natural length for all the block distances that dot the landscape of the campus grounds.
The ``500 feet'' comment comes from the manner in which I have been navigating around the campus with---throughout the last fortnight or so I have been walking around with my Garmin eTrex GPS receiver in tow. It is pretty nifty the moment I got the Champaign-Urbana base map loaded into the device; by knowing which road intersections I have passed, and having a working memory of the local map made walking around campus relatively fuss-free. Considering the fact that I'm a graduate student who doesn't have the benefit of living in close quarters with other like-minded individuals, it is a really fast way to get the lay of the land on the back of my hand. I think I have geocaching to thank for this though---the months spent walking all over Singapore armed with nothing more than a GPS receiver and some local maps have indeed honed my geospatial reasoning skills, making navigation a much easier exercise than thought possible.
Anyway, not sure if I had said this in an earlier post (not checking only because I'm using Q10 to write up this entry), but the campus here feels very different. For one, since the department buildings are fairly far from each other, one is more likely to run into people in the same programme than anything else. This is different from CMU because, well, CMU's campus is so small that it is hard to not run into people from different schools. For two, because I keep running into the engineering/computer science folks, I do end up running into a lot of PRC students. It feels a little weird when one is in the US and end up hearing more mandarin spoken than english, but it is not something to be worried about I suppose; it is only when they start gathering in groups and being generally obnoxious that things start to get annoying, and even then that action is not limited to the PRC students alone. So far I've not managed to break into that little cocoon that many of them are stuck in, so I suppose I will have to take a little effort to make friends with some of them and see what things we can share and learn along the way.
Food here is still manageable---I have a full kitchen to work with. Well, almost full, since I have a refrigerator/freezer, an electric stove and oven, a saucepan and two different types of spatula. I just don't have enough of the other amenities required for cooking, like knives, cutting boards, flat plans, condiments and the like. And of course a microwave, the single most useful electrical appliance that one can have within an apartment, since it makes heating and reheating food stuffs that much easier. But all these things will have to come eventually when I start to see the need to actually cook, and when my allowance comes in; money is starting to get a little tight as I deal with the price of the text books that are needed for class and the overall need for survival through sustenance.
The bus system here is very good---there's at least one bus that will take one to anywhere that one might want to go on and off campus. More importantly, the bus system is quite efficient; there are different routes for the week day day time, week day evening and weekend. The routes are colour coded by the general service locations, and the numbers identify the route directly, with the weekend and evening versions having numbers ten times that of the usual week day day time ones. The general direction of the bus route is also encoded, so one can unambiguously state which bus it is they want to take, like the 120W Teal route or the 50E Green route. The buses also have an integrated system that tracks their movement, and the provided expected time of arrival at each bus stop is accurate to within five minutes, which is really useful. The buses are also handicap friendly since they can all ``kneel''---hydraulically lower the front of the bus so that the ramp can be deployed for those in need of them. All buses also have attached bicycle racks in front of them that can take up to two bicycles, which is a great thing to support cycling within the city. A pity that the Singapore transport system, in all its glory, don't even have such useful facilities without involving a lot of bureaucratic wrangling to get working. The bus schedule guide is also freely available on all buses, and that makes looking out for the various bus timings and locations that much easier for folks who don't have the Android phone application that polls the mass transit department's web site for such information.
So far I'm not really homesick yet, so I would think that things are going pretty smooth on my end. Many of my friends who live on the US east coast are terrified at the prospect of having to deal with Hurricane Irene that I do feel for their safely. Anyway, that's all I have for now, so till next time.
The first thing that one notices when one is in graduate school is the notion that no one really gives a damn about what you do. No one gives a damn about what you do, be it your advisor, your fellow colleagues, or any one else. No one except yourself, of course. The curriculum is tailor-made for you, and you have to take charge (with the assistance of a committee of course) of what you want to/need to take in order to fulfill your academic course requirements. And then there is the whole issue of intellectual discovery---it is up to you and you alone to decide how you might want to run your research. Of course if you have a slightly more caring advisor, he/she will actually attempt to make sure that you do something along the way, but other than that, you are on your own. I sort of knew this was going to be the case prior to entering graduate school, but having witnessed it first hand makes the stories that I have heard more concrete and real.
Of course, this being the first week of the semester, things are progressing a little on the slow side, but things are not as slow as it seems. Okay, compared to CMU, things are sort of slow now (usually we would have the first round of homework assigned by the end of the week), but it is really hard to tell if this is going to be the pace that things will be running at; for all I know, this is merely the first week syndrome where things are deliberately released at a reduced pace just to ensure that any last-minute class enrolment won't lose out too much, though to be fair, it doesn't seem to be the culture here to have ``last-minute enrolments''---there doesn't seem to exist a wait list from which people can queue on while waiting to be enrolled into a class.
Living conditions-wise it has been pretty peaceful. My dorm space is really a one-room apartment on the southern outskirts of the main campus, so it tends to be much more tranquil here than say the residence halls where the undergraduates might be living in. There are of course pros and cons of this set up---it means that when I finally get myself completely at ease with this place, I will have an excellent distraction-free environment to get cracking, and not have to get into my office just to get work done. The main disadvantage is that because I live on the southern outskirts of the main campus, the daily commute to my office up in the computer science department building (Siebel Centre) can be pretty brutal. I have to take a bus up north every morning; the bus comes in 12-minute intervals between 0700hrs to 0800hrs, subsequently it runs on 20-minute intervals instead. It takes the bus around 13 to 17 minutes to arrive at the bus stop nearest to Siebel Centre, and from there, a 750-feet walk awaits me. For now, things are quite dandy because the weather is still conducive for walking, but I'm really not very sure how this is going to work out once winter sets in. And yes, I have switched to the imperial system (at least for distances) for now because the dimension of ``500 feet'' is a natural length for all the block distances that dot the landscape of the campus grounds.
The ``500 feet'' comment comes from the manner in which I have been navigating around the campus with---throughout the last fortnight or so I have been walking around with my Garmin eTrex GPS receiver in tow. It is pretty nifty the moment I got the Champaign-Urbana base map loaded into the device; by knowing which road intersections I have passed, and having a working memory of the local map made walking around campus relatively fuss-free. Considering the fact that I'm a graduate student who doesn't have the benefit of living in close quarters with other like-minded individuals, it is a really fast way to get the lay of the land on the back of my hand. I think I have geocaching to thank for this though---the months spent walking all over Singapore armed with nothing more than a GPS receiver and some local maps have indeed honed my geospatial reasoning skills, making navigation a much easier exercise than thought possible.
Anyway, not sure if I had said this in an earlier post (not checking only because I'm using Q10 to write up this entry), but the campus here feels very different. For one, since the department buildings are fairly far from each other, one is more likely to run into people in the same programme than anything else. This is different from CMU because, well, CMU's campus is so small that it is hard to not run into people from different schools. For two, because I keep running into the engineering/computer science folks, I do end up running into a lot of PRC students. It feels a little weird when one is in the US and end up hearing more mandarin spoken than english, but it is not something to be worried about I suppose; it is only when they start gathering in groups and being generally obnoxious that things start to get annoying, and even then that action is not limited to the PRC students alone. So far I've not managed to break into that little cocoon that many of them are stuck in, so I suppose I will have to take a little effort to make friends with some of them and see what things we can share and learn along the way.
Food here is still manageable---I have a full kitchen to work with. Well, almost full, since I have a refrigerator/freezer, an electric stove and oven, a saucepan and two different types of spatula. I just don't have enough of the other amenities required for cooking, like knives, cutting boards, flat plans, condiments and the like. And of course a microwave, the single most useful electrical appliance that one can have within an apartment, since it makes heating and reheating food stuffs that much easier. But all these things will have to come eventually when I start to see the need to actually cook, and when my allowance comes in; money is starting to get a little tight as I deal with the price of the text books that are needed for class and the overall need for survival through sustenance.
The bus system here is very good---there's at least one bus that will take one to anywhere that one might want to go on and off campus. More importantly, the bus system is quite efficient; there are different routes for the week day day time, week day evening and weekend. The routes are colour coded by the general service locations, and the numbers identify the route directly, with the weekend and evening versions having numbers ten times that of the usual week day day time ones. The general direction of the bus route is also encoded, so one can unambiguously state which bus it is they want to take, like the 120W Teal route or the 50E Green route. The buses also have an integrated system that tracks their movement, and the provided expected time of arrival at each bus stop is accurate to within five minutes, which is really useful. The buses are also handicap friendly since they can all ``kneel''---hydraulically lower the front of the bus so that the ramp can be deployed for those in need of them. All buses also have attached bicycle racks in front of them that can take up to two bicycles, which is a great thing to support cycling within the city. A pity that the Singapore transport system, in all its glory, don't even have such useful facilities without involving a lot of bureaucratic wrangling to get working. The bus schedule guide is also freely available on all buses, and that makes looking out for the various bus timings and locations that much easier for folks who don't have the Android phone application that polls the mass transit department's web site for such information.
So far I'm not really homesick yet, so I would think that things are going pretty smooth on my end. Many of my friends who live on the US east coast are terrified at the prospect of having to deal with Hurricane Irene that I do feel for their safely. Anyway, that's all I have for now, so till next time.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
In UIUC
So, okay, while it may not be obvious at all here, I am actually in UIUC right now. That's right, my PhD journey has finally started officially, and I am now settling into my apartment and getting back the whole groove of studying once more. A PhD programme is different from that of the BSc---the whole purpose is to emerge from the programme being a much better researcher than what I once was, and to hone my skills in sniffing out and solving problems in acceptable manners. Class hasn't started yet, but I'm starting to feel the immense pressure upon myself. I think I'm mentally prepared for this, and given my current domicile location and office, I think it makes things easier to actually concentrate and get the work done.
So some people ask me here and there why did I want to go for a PhD programme instead of working my way up some corporate ladder and earning big bucks. I think the answer is simply that I like challenging myself. Yes, I'm a sucker for that kind of pain, and get easily bored by the mundane work that most people engage in. I may not have an overriding IQ, but I know that I can think up interesting and workable solutions when I put my mind to things. Of course, the flip side is that I need to work on the whole social aspect side of research and go around talking to people to learn more about what is going on, but that is a work in progress. I may not have what it takes to be a full-time academic in a university, but at the very least, I want to make that difference by contributing my know-how and ingenuity for the forces of good. Very idealistic, I know, but what is the world without some idealism? Besides, it's my neck on the line and not the rest of the people, so why should anyone else care?
Actually no one else cares, as a general rule of thumb. Those close to us might want to care, but there will come a point in time where the life paths have diverged so much that it becomes quite impossible to play catch up and care as much as one might want to. I suppose that's why people get into relationships with each other, each trying to find some middle ground with which they can share their need of love and to love with each other to unlock that hidden side of being human. I'm not gutsy enough to claim that I am past that stage now, but I think I'll manage without having this relationship business. Somehow the social side and the intellectual side grow at different rates, and there is always a time (and place) for everything. As a lady friend once said, men are like wine, for the older they get, the more desirable they become due to the appreciation of their value, whereas women just fade away as time goes by. Quite a sexist statement for sure, but I suppose that's how most of the world's population is wired up.
Ah, Champaign-Urbana. A lovely place even on the waning days of summer. My domicile is a pretty peaceful place: sheltered by trees, quiet neighbourhood, lovely chirping of the cicadas and crickets in the evening, the sound of children playing in the day time from the families that live in the same set of apartments as I. State university does have a much different perspective as compared to a private university (CMU is a private university)---the sense of anonymity is much higher, and due to that it is much easier to just get ``lost'' in the moment and not have to worry about people judging you or remembering what you had done. Of course, this also meant that the whole place is much bigger and really nasty for foot traversal (I clocked 18km of walking just to settle a few administrative procedures prior to getting my university ID which gave free bus rides), but I think eventually it will work out fine. I think what is important is to quickly get into the groove and hit the tarmac running.
Now, more so than ever, time is not on my side.
So some people ask me here and there why did I want to go for a PhD programme instead of working my way up some corporate ladder and earning big bucks. I think the answer is simply that I like challenging myself. Yes, I'm a sucker for that kind of pain, and get easily bored by the mundane work that most people engage in. I may not have an overriding IQ, but I know that I can think up interesting and workable solutions when I put my mind to things. Of course, the flip side is that I need to work on the whole social aspect side of research and go around talking to people to learn more about what is going on, but that is a work in progress. I may not have what it takes to be a full-time academic in a university, but at the very least, I want to make that difference by contributing my know-how and ingenuity for the forces of good. Very idealistic, I know, but what is the world without some idealism? Besides, it's my neck on the line and not the rest of the people, so why should anyone else care?
Actually no one else cares, as a general rule of thumb. Those close to us might want to care, but there will come a point in time where the life paths have diverged so much that it becomes quite impossible to play catch up and care as much as one might want to. I suppose that's why people get into relationships with each other, each trying to find some middle ground with which they can share their need of love and to love with each other to unlock that hidden side of being human. I'm not gutsy enough to claim that I am past that stage now, but I think I'll manage without having this relationship business. Somehow the social side and the intellectual side grow at different rates, and there is always a time (and place) for everything. As a lady friend once said, men are like wine, for the older they get, the more desirable they become due to the appreciation of their value, whereas women just fade away as time goes by. Quite a sexist statement for sure, but I suppose that's how most of the world's population is wired up.
Ah, Champaign-Urbana. A lovely place even on the waning days of summer. My domicile is a pretty peaceful place: sheltered by trees, quiet neighbourhood, lovely chirping of the cicadas and crickets in the evening, the sound of children playing in the day time from the families that live in the same set of apartments as I. State university does have a much different perspective as compared to a private university (CMU is a private university)---the sense of anonymity is much higher, and due to that it is much easier to just get ``lost'' in the moment and not have to worry about people judging you or remembering what you had done. Of course, this also meant that the whole place is much bigger and really nasty for foot traversal (I clocked 18km of walking just to settle a few administrative procedures prior to getting my university ID which gave free bus rides), but I think eventually it will work out fine. I think what is important is to quickly get into the groove and hit the tarmac running.
Now, more so than ever, time is not on my side.
30 Days of Driving
Ah driving. It is a very liberating feeling to finally have the license to operate a motor vehicle. Having had my license about a month ago, I took the opportunity to rent a car for about a month to drive around and get used to the road experience. And this entry chronicles the sights, sounds and experiences that I had from that little foray.
Driving in Singapore is a rather mixed bag of emotions; more often than not, the primary dominating emotion is that of anger. That's right, it is anger; not mine, but that of the other drivers. Armed with probational plates as a part of the law regarding newly minted qualified driver license holders, it simultaneously becomes a safe way of indicating the inexperience of the driver as well as an invitation for the more aggressive drivers to ``bully'' the new driver through intimidation techniques. I wasn't really fazed by their intimidation attempts, though it is rather unnerving when an aggressive driver keeps tailgating the car that I was driving. The speed limits of the roads were not something that most people seem to adhere to---each time I was travelling at the speed limit, every other car seems to just speed off in front of me, with excess speeds ranging from 10km/h or more. In fact, many drivers who wre following behind my car got so frustrated that I wasn't busting the speed limit that they ended up tailgating me for a while before dodging off to the left or right in an attempt to overtake me.
Drivers aside, the roads of Singapore are not very forgiving either. Granted that there are few tricky intersections to worry about, there are still many oddities of the roads that make driving a less-than-desirable experience. Extreme heavy traffic is one classic example of this. The arterial roads of Singapore are often full of traffic during the peak hours, and the mean speed of such roads drop from the standard of 70km/h to something along the lines of 40km/h, assuming that it is merely a heavy traffic condition and not some traffic jam, in which case the mean speed can fall to as low as 20km/h, uphill.
But I suppose that the best way to go about driving in Singapore is to be really comfortable with oneself and to understand that not all drivers are law-abiding---the most important thing about driving is to avoid causing or being in an accident, and I suppose that if that is met, it will guarantee one's survival on the road. Of course the law just provides a more stringent measure of what safety means, and more often than not, it is a good idea to follow it. But of course one needs to be flexible and adapt to the circumstance.
Driving in Singapore is a rather mixed bag of emotions; more often than not, the primary dominating emotion is that of anger. That's right, it is anger; not mine, but that of the other drivers. Armed with probational plates as a part of the law regarding newly minted qualified driver license holders, it simultaneously becomes a safe way of indicating the inexperience of the driver as well as an invitation for the more aggressive drivers to ``bully'' the new driver through intimidation techniques. I wasn't really fazed by their intimidation attempts, though it is rather unnerving when an aggressive driver keeps tailgating the car that I was driving. The speed limits of the roads were not something that most people seem to adhere to---each time I was travelling at the speed limit, every other car seems to just speed off in front of me, with excess speeds ranging from 10km/h or more. In fact, many drivers who wre following behind my car got so frustrated that I wasn't busting the speed limit that they ended up tailgating me for a while before dodging off to the left or right in an attempt to overtake me.
Drivers aside, the roads of Singapore are not very forgiving either. Granted that there are few tricky intersections to worry about, there are still many oddities of the roads that make driving a less-than-desirable experience. Extreme heavy traffic is one classic example of this. The arterial roads of Singapore are often full of traffic during the peak hours, and the mean speed of such roads drop from the standard of 70km/h to something along the lines of 40km/h, assuming that it is merely a heavy traffic condition and not some traffic jam, in which case the mean speed can fall to as low as 20km/h, uphill.
But I suppose that the best way to go about driving in Singapore is to be really comfortable with oneself and to understand that not all drivers are law-abiding---the most important thing about driving is to avoid causing or being in an accident, and I suppose that if that is met, it will guarantee one's survival on the road. Of course the law just provides a more stringent measure of what safety means, and more often than not, it is a good idea to follow it. But of course one needs to be flexible and adapt to the circumstance.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
SMS Musing #6
Earlier on Saturday, while waiting for some friends for geocaching:
The mere fact that there are multiple entries under this SMS musings tag should be an indication that I'm spending a lot of time waiting for people to arrive. What I mean is that the only reason why I write these entries is merely to pass the time a little faster during the wait, so that I don't get too bored to the point that I start to think too much nonsense.
Anyway, another day and I'll be flying. But an all nighter awaits me as I scramble to finish up that draft before I head off into the sunset. Flying off this time feels more serene than the last---it might be that I sort of know what to expect? But in spite of it all, there's still that little uncertainty over various things that are out of my direct control; I suppose I just need to hang in there and see what happens. As they say, it ain't the end till it is the end, and the end ain't here yet. The small setbacks just turn me ever stronger by helping me realise that one needs a certain level of thick-skinnedness to live well in the world.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
SMS Musing #5
While waiting outside a building...
Sometimes one cannot help but feel helpless in the face of things, especially when it all seems ready to overwhelm oneself. There is just too many variables that we have no control over, yet somehow life must still go on. Even the few things that we seemingly have control over turns out to be mostly a sham. If all of us do not really have true power over our destinies, then what is it that moves everything forward?
Illusionary they may be, I suppose there is still some truth amid all the lies. We probably have more power over our destiny than we realise, though much less than what we would have liked. Perhaps that is what life truly is about---to discover just how far our control is over our destiny. Maybe this can explain away all that we are seeing.
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
SMS Musing #4
While at Zirca earlier today for an exhibition:
It is kinda strange to be sitting on the top floor of a club and penning this down as a heavy beat is going on from the dance floor below. I suppose it would be a little odd to claim that the music is putting me to sleep, but it is true. The only reason I'm even still awake is all thanks to ConnectBot on the Android, which allows me to connect via SSH to other boxes that have things to keep me occupied.I suppose there ought to be a limit on how long an ``SMS Musing'' counts as its namesake.
But then again, the whole club scene is something that I don't really dig into; I'm not into the whole shallow social thing that dominates this whole scene. But of course the question to ask is, why am I even here in the first place? Mostly as a support role for one of my sister's exhibits at the exhibition, and that's about it. I seriously doubt if anyone cares though, since I've pretty much ended up sitting up here on my own. More than 2 years since I've come out of my shell and I'm still sitting om the sidelines: what a great ``progress'' there.
Anyway, it is fast reaching the time for me to make a sneaky getaway, the only type of exit I'm willing to put up with---not a fan of being a centre of attraction. Makes me wonder how the hell I can square this with my kob requirements of establishing reputation and street cred.
This is getting a little too long for an SMS Musing, so I'm going to stop here now and make my getaway.
Saturday, August 06, 2011
SMS Musing #3
While waiting at the carpark of Venus Drive prior to a MacRitchie Reservoir Park hike/geocaching trip:
At the risk of jinxing myself, what was supposed to be an easy 25-minute drive became an hour of horror as I kept making one wrong turn after another to the point that it was fucktardly stupid. How the blazes did I screw up so badly in spite of having read the gorram map multiple times? I think I have sunk to a new low this time. This is really so stupid---I've just wasted everyone's precious time. I feel like a failure now.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Funereal #1
I'm starting a new series of articles labelled ``funereal''. It sounds morbid, but really it is one of those ``start with the end goal in sight'' kind of things. Each time an article is tagged with the ``funereal'' tag, it represents my vision of what happens at my funeral at that point in time. Might prove to be an interesting psychological experiment.
Ahem.
Ahem.
There was muted silence all about as the candles flickered in the night time breeze. I lie dead in that coffin out in the centre of the funeral parlour, surrounded by strangers. It's a hush-hush affair; there was no priest nor reverend nor any religious figure officiating the austere setting---I had lived my life with a much stronger belief towards empirical science than religious followings. Of course there would be no one else there that I know; I have broke contact with most of them a long long time ago, once they all started to get married and have children and thus need to care more about their families than some crockety old man who was still clinging on to the old ideals of geekiness.
The grandfather clock chimed and there was a rustling sound as the pallbearers shifted my coffin towards the cremation chamber. The strangers present muttered their own words of farewell to a man they hardly knew as my coffin enters the hop into the chamber itself. Within a few short minutes, I made it into the furnace and was cremated into an urnful of fine white ash.
As per my instructions, they took my urn of ashes and brought it out to sea, commending my remains forever into the ocean, to travel around the world in the ocean currents and to seek knowledge wherever I may be.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
SMS Musing #2
While on the train, I just had that inclination to write something that occurred recently, and so here it is:
You would think that by now I would be used to the whole idea of going it alone, but I suppose I'm still human after all. These few days I have been interacting with one too many couples and it has a somewhat negative effect on me. I find myself a tad more anxious than usual, and somewhat more importantly, seemingly losing my ability to stay calm. I think I need to get back into the groove of not giving too much of a damn; must remember that when people are in a relationship, it has nothing to do with me, even if they choose to act all lovey dovey in front of me. That's the least that I can do for myself to do myself justice and avoid all these strange emotions. At the end of the day, those couples only have eyes for each other and don't really care about the people around them, no matter how close they are in friendship.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Tired?
Funny how things end up. Here I am about to embark on another leg of my life's journey, and instead of feeling excited, I feel tired.
Tired! For goodness sake, why am I feeling tired? This makes as much sense as the cow that refuses to eat grass, or the eagle that doesn't fly, or... well you get the idea.
Maybe it's the cubicle I'm in. It's too restrictive, too cramped. Or it could be the office environment, or that I don't really see a plausible and clear-cut shifting of one phase to the next---everything is an amorphous blob of blobbiness. Mostly likely the latter. I mean, even till now, nearly three days before I am at my last day, I'm still working on projects.
Maybe I'm no longer that great a workaholic as I think myself out to be. Perhaps that's a good thing.
I mean, I am liking the outdoors now. How much more strange/weird can it get?
Till the next rant.
Tired! For goodness sake, why am I feeling tired? This makes as much sense as the cow that refuses to eat grass, or the eagle that doesn't fly, or... well you get the idea.
Maybe it's the cubicle I'm in. It's too restrictive, too cramped. Or it could be the office environment, or that I don't really see a plausible and clear-cut shifting of one phase to the next---everything is an amorphous blob of blobbiness. Mostly likely the latter. I mean, even till now, nearly three days before I am at my last day, I'm still working on projects.
Maybe I'm no longer that great a workaholic as I think myself out to be. Perhaps that's a good thing.
I mean, I am liking the outdoors now. How much more strange/weird can it get?
Till the next rant.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Nivlek Conversation
Once more I find myself writing yet another blog entry on a late night session. There is clearly something different about the night as compared to the day that makes updating my own blog a little more intimate, even though I don't really do much editing in either case. But as usual, I digress a little.
I think that one thing that I'm starting to get used to is the flux of life. Life is non-static and full of twists and turns, some completely deterministic, while others completely unexpected. Slowly I find that the people I used to trust implicitly have now ``fallen off'' the trust model, while there are those whom I used to not trust have slowly entered into the hallowed ``inner circle''. But of course, the said ``inner circle'' itself has changed its nature by quite a fair bit, considering that I am mostly reclusive now, engaging people at the most superficial level that is required to maintain something that is meaningful yet at times impersonal enough.
It's not that I don't like to confide in people---it's just that sometimes such opportunities do not present themselves readily. It is much easier to find such people when one is younger, since the whole notion of political manipulation is something that is quite rare at that age group that finding someone willing to listen to and discuss one's problems makes as much sense as saying the sun rises from the East. But as time goes by, it becomes painfully obvious that such burden-free associations are far and few; the only group of people where this might still hold when one is of adulthood is likely to be that of the immediate family, with spouses falling in the gray area depending on the general state of the relationship.
Speaking of spouses and confidantes, I had a recent meet up with Nivlek and we had a helluva good time talking about the ``good old days'' (they were old, but they ain't good), the happenings now, and some future stuff. And I think we come to one simple conclusion about the whole get-a-girlfriend/wife-thing: people are taking things a little too seriously. Actually, I believe we are being nice, what we probably meant was that many people who are in relationships seem to fall a trap involving emotional abuse and manipulation. The idea of ``hen-peckedness'' and that somehow the woman being the lead in the relationship at around the time that marriage is considered somehow sounds completely wrong to me---it's a marriage for crying out loud, not a slavery bondage! Why do many women think that they are superior enough that their word is ``final'' when it comes to life after marriage? Isn't a marriage supposed to be a partnership where people be like true thinking adults and do things in ways that make the both of them happy and yet still have the desired outcome? Why then does marriage make things look so glum, like as though being married is some kind of restrictive burden?
Speaking of marriage and relationships I think I'm entering a new phase in my life. Back when I was younger, I find that I could not relate to my peers just because they were talking about things that didn't interest me enough, things that involve fashion, memes and other stylish things. I preferred talking to people who were older than me, simply because they had a more interesting and varied view on what life is, and can often discuss current affairs in ways that are more informative than whatever the press provides through their own analysis. But now, I'm starting to find it easier to talk to the younger folk instead of those older than me. I mean, I don't outright hate to talk to anyone older, but I've probably listened to their talk on getting married, buying their first flat, giving birth to their child and other really random talk of that nature one too many times to actually find it interesting. Yes, congratulations on reaching your next milestone, but that's just your own ``achievement''---pity the poor souls who have to listen to you gush about something that makes little sense to the young singles surrounding you. At least I can still get more decent conversations with the young'uns---I may not like some of their attitude, but among the black sheep there are still the few lily-white ones who give the whole generation a slightly better name, and those are the ones whom I genuinely enjoy the time we spent talking.
Change does not seem to faze me much anymore; I'm not sure if I had said it in any of the more recent posts, but it is a point that is worth repeating. I think this is a good attitude towards life, and gives me enough forward momentum to hurdle past obstacles that may stand in my way.
And on that note, I end this entry for the day.
I think that one thing that I'm starting to get used to is the flux of life. Life is non-static and full of twists and turns, some completely deterministic, while others completely unexpected. Slowly I find that the people I used to trust implicitly have now ``fallen off'' the trust model, while there are those whom I used to not trust have slowly entered into the hallowed ``inner circle''. But of course, the said ``inner circle'' itself has changed its nature by quite a fair bit, considering that I am mostly reclusive now, engaging people at the most superficial level that is required to maintain something that is meaningful yet at times impersonal enough.
It's not that I don't like to confide in people---it's just that sometimes such opportunities do not present themselves readily. It is much easier to find such people when one is younger, since the whole notion of political manipulation is something that is quite rare at that age group that finding someone willing to listen to and discuss one's problems makes as much sense as saying the sun rises from the East. But as time goes by, it becomes painfully obvious that such burden-free associations are far and few; the only group of people where this might still hold when one is of adulthood is likely to be that of the immediate family, with spouses falling in the gray area depending on the general state of the relationship.
Speaking of spouses and confidantes, I had a recent meet up with Nivlek and we had a helluva good time talking about the ``good old days'' (they were old, but they ain't good), the happenings now, and some future stuff. And I think we come to one simple conclusion about the whole get-a-girlfriend/wife-thing: people are taking things a little too seriously. Actually, I believe we are being nice, what we probably meant was that many people who are in relationships seem to fall a trap involving emotional abuse and manipulation. The idea of ``hen-peckedness'' and that somehow the woman being the lead in the relationship at around the time that marriage is considered somehow sounds completely wrong to me---it's a marriage for crying out loud, not a slavery bondage! Why do many women think that they are superior enough that their word is ``final'' when it comes to life after marriage? Isn't a marriage supposed to be a partnership where people be like true thinking adults and do things in ways that make the both of them happy and yet still have the desired outcome? Why then does marriage make things look so glum, like as though being married is some kind of restrictive burden?
Speaking of marriage and relationships I think I'm entering a new phase in my life. Back when I was younger, I find that I could not relate to my peers just because they were talking about things that didn't interest me enough, things that involve fashion, memes and other stylish things. I preferred talking to people who were older than me, simply because they had a more interesting and varied view on what life is, and can often discuss current affairs in ways that are more informative than whatever the press provides through their own analysis. But now, I'm starting to find it easier to talk to the younger folk instead of those older than me. I mean, I don't outright hate to talk to anyone older, but I've probably listened to their talk on getting married, buying their first flat, giving birth to their child and other really random talk of that nature one too many times to actually find it interesting. Yes, congratulations on reaching your next milestone, but that's just your own ``achievement''---pity the poor souls who have to listen to you gush about something that makes little sense to the young singles surrounding you. At least I can still get more decent conversations with the young'uns---I may not like some of their attitude, but among the black sheep there are still the few lily-white ones who give the whole generation a slightly better name, and those are the ones whom I genuinely enjoy the time we spent talking.
Change does not seem to faze me much anymore; I'm not sure if I had said it in any of the more recent posts, but it is a point that is worth repeating. I think this is a good attitude towards life, and gives me enough forward momentum to hurdle past obstacles that may stand in my way.
And on that note, I end this entry for the day.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Pondering About Life Once More
What if today you stopped and attempted to validate that your life was indeed worth living. What kind of conclusions would you draw?
So up to this point, I think that life for me, in general, has been worth living. At the very least, I can claim that I have loved and was loved, possess some non-trivial talents, and have a decent looking future-that-is-not-über-boring---pretty good deal, really. But of course, there are times where things seem to be at a natural low, where self-doubt comes in and makes things surprisingly difficult to accept and deal with.
I suppose that most people have their own unique take on life; that's what makes each of us different from each other. We might be in the general locality at some point with others, but what each person takes away from the scene in memory is often much different from everyone else in spite of having the same observations. There are some types of people that reinforce our positive self-image through interaction, and then there are those who are absolute downers. I think when Regina wrote her list of ``rules'' for life, she was bearing this in mind as a motivation for people.
I think I'm much more reticent nowadays as compared to the past. Much has changed over the last two years, and I think I have adapted to the changes in as best a way as I can. So far, no signs of self-deprecating self-worth issues are seen at levels that demand closer attention, but I'm still wary of myself spiralling out of control when the going gets tough. Maybe reticence is a good thing for me---it keeps my motor-mouth in check and saves me the effort of trying to conform, letting others come up with their own colourful ideas of who I might be in a way similar to an extended Rorschach Test.
Or it could be that I'm more isolated that reticence is fast becoming the norm for me. While I'm still not completely sociopathic, my empathy towards people in general are diminishing over time---more often than not I just don't feel the need to feel anything for many of the people Isee. While I do not treat people in a malicious way, I do not actively try to help them either, in stark contrast with the me of old who would sillily allow myself to take the hurt just to keep others safe. I'm no magnanimous fool now: while there are universal laws about the equality of people, but there is an overriding concept of the self that needs satiation.
m3h, I don't really have a clue what I'm trying to drive at on this midweek night. Suffice to say, whatever I had probably wanted to talk about have appeared by now, and it is with this pensieve and confused mood that I will leave you, the reader, behind till next time.
So up to this point, I think that life for me, in general, has been worth living. At the very least, I can claim that I have loved and was loved, possess some non-trivial talents, and have a decent looking future-that-is-not-über-boring---pretty good deal, really. But of course, there are times where things seem to be at a natural low, where self-doubt comes in and makes things surprisingly difficult to accept and deal with.
I suppose that most people have their own unique take on life; that's what makes each of us different from each other. We might be in the general locality at some point with others, but what each person takes away from the scene in memory is often much different from everyone else in spite of having the same observations. There are some types of people that reinforce our positive self-image through interaction, and then there are those who are absolute downers. I think when Regina wrote her list of ``rules'' for life, she was bearing this in mind as a motivation for people.
I think I'm much more reticent nowadays as compared to the past. Much has changed over the last two years, and I think I have adapted to the changes in as best a way as I can. So far, no signs of self-deprecating self-worth issues are seen at levels that demand closer attention, but I'm still wary of myself spiralling out of control when the going gets tough. Maybe reticence is a good thing for me---it keeps my motor-mouth in check and saves me the effort of trying to conform, letting others come up with their own colourful ideas of who I might be in a way similar to an extended Rorschach Test.
Or it could be that I'm more isolated that reticence is fast becoming the norm for me. While I'm still not completely sociopathic, my empathy towards people in general are diminishing over time---more often than not I just don't feel the need to feel anything for many of the people Isee. While I do not treat people in a malicious way, I do not actively try to help them either, in stark contrast with the me of old who would sillily allow myself to take the hurt just to keep others safe. I'm no magnanimous fool now: while there are universal laws about the equality of people, but there is an overriding concept of the self that needs satiation.
m3h, I don't really have a clue what I'm trying to drive at on this midweek night. Suffice to say, whatever I had probably wanted to talk about have appeared by now, and it is with this pensieve and confused mood that I will leave you, the reader, behind till next time.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Fast Times Mon...
Man, what a week. You know that you are having the time of your life when you start to lose track of how time flies. And of course, by what I said, I don't mean just the fun stuff---I do mean the work stuff too.
Previous Saturday was grand, I went out with a couple of fellow geocachers to do a few geocaches in the middle of the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve region. Man, that one was a blast, since the cache hides were well executed, and the places that we went to were really quite extraordinary in many ways. There was a thunderstorm that raged on at one point, but we took shelter at one of the many huts. It was quite safe in spite of the fact that one lightning/thunder struck really close to the hut itself.
Work was quite gruelling yet comfortable in some strange sense; there is a feeling of forward progress, and with some additional advice here and there from various people, I'm starting to be in control once more.
Then of course, there was Friday, the first Friday where I begin to clear all my leave. The morning was spent at the US Embassy for the visa application, while the evening was for rock climbing at SAFRA Yishun. I think I like the idea of rock climbing and the ``simpler version'' of bouldering. Yes, my forearms were pretty sore once I was done with the place, but from the beginning to the end, I found my climbing strategy evolve from ``where's the next hand hold?'' to ``hmm, I need to go right to avoid that jutting region''. Somehow rock climbing really makes you think about the choices that you want to make and balance it against what you are physically capable of i.e. you might want to vault over that ledge, but you just don't have enough strength to bring yourself to it. According to some of the better climbers (those with prior experience), it is more about technique than raw strength, which makes the whole sport a finesse-type one, something that I can live with, probably.
Saturday was a mad scramble doing the waypoints for a particular multi-cache, and I think I did fine in spite of all the other physical activities that I had taken part in. I think my physical condition is much better now than two years ago when I first returned from the US.
So anyway, as I was saying earlier, you know that you are having the time of your life when time passes really quickly, for as common sense says that when you are doing something you love, time feels really short but when you are doing something you hate, it takes an eternity. I think I'm glad that I have managed to find pleasure in the things that I am doing now and in the future---it does have a positive impact on myself whenever I think of it in this way.
Alright, enough rambling, till the next update. Hopefully I have something more... philosophical to talk about the next time as opposed to the sordid details of my life (which I'm sure is why people read this blog anyway).
Previous Saturday was grand, I went out with a couple of fellow geocachers to do a few geocaches in the middle of the Bukit Timah Nature Reserve region. Man, that one was a blast, since the cache hides were well executed, and the places that we went to were really quite extraordinary in many ways. There was a thunderstorm that raged on at one point, but we took shelter at one of the many huts. It was quite safe in spite of the fact that one lightning/thunder struck really close to the hut itself.
Work was quite gruelling yet comfortable in some strange sense; there is a feeling of forward progress, and with some additional advice here and there from various people, I'm starting to be in control once more.
Then of course, there was Friday, the first Friday where I begin to clear all my leave. The morning was spent at the US Embassy for the visa application, while the evening was for rock climbing at SAFRA Yishun. I think I like the idea of rock climbing and the ``simpler version'' of bouldering. Yes, my forearms were pretty sore once I was done with the place, but from the beginning to the end, I found my climbing strategy evolve from ``where's the next hand hold?'' to ``hmm, I need to go right to avoid that jutting region''. Somehow rock climbing really makes you think about the choices that you want to make and balance it against what you are physically capable of i.e. you might want to vault over that ledge, but you just don't have enough strength to bring yourself to it. According to some of the better climbers (those with prior experience), it is more about technique than raw strength, which makes the whole sport a finesse-type one, something that I can live with, probably.
Saturday was a mad scramble doing the waypoints for a particular multi-cache, and I think I did fine in spite of all the other physical activities that I had taken part in. I think my physical condition is much better now than two years ago when I first returned from the US.
So anyway, as I was saying earlier, you know that you are having the time of your life when time passes really quickly, for as common sense says that when you are doing something you love, time feels really short but when you are doing something you hate, it takes an eternity. I think I'm glad that I have managed to find pleasure in the things that I am doing now and in the future---it does have a positive impact on myself whenever I think of it in this way.
Alright, enough rambling, till the next update. Hopefully I have something more... philosophical to talk about the next time as opposed to the sordid details of my life (which I'm sure is why people read this blog anyway).
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Musings on a Saturday Night
Well, well, well, it is a Saturday night, and it's just me and Mr JD here chillaxin' in the summer heat.
*takes a sip*
Some might say that it is a terrible day to be drinking any form of hard liquor, but I'm known to make some rather irrational decisions from time to time as part of filling up my quota of ``erring to be human''.
*takes another sip*
On the way home today, I realised a sad truth---I can't actually will myself to cry. It just doesn't work; I get to within a hair's breadth of tearing up, but it stops short there, whether or not I'm listening to sappy lost-love music.
*takes another sip*
Too macho maybe? Who knows? But I suppose that I don't really have a good reason to need to cry; hell, even when I broke my bone those couple of times, even when I had that excruciating pain, all I did was to wince a little and then get up through force of will.
The only times I ever cried where when my grandma was incinerated after death and when some chick had broken up with me.
*takes another sip*
So maybe crying is not the way for me to relieve stress. That's a relief, in some ways---heheheh at least it asserts that I'm still ``macho'' enough. And no, I'm no ``Massive Compact Halo Object'', since I'm still mostly matter the last I checked.
*takes another sip*
I'm kinda going easy on the JD this time round, ever since that little experiment of the Ya Kun coffee went astray. It's probably a shot of JD on the rocks... I know, I know. I don't usually drink hard liquor on the rocks, but tonight's a special occasion to you know, not get too ridiculous from my relative sensitivity to both alcohol and caffeine due to reduction in use.
*takes another sip*
And yes, this is yet another one of those free-form auto-writing experiments ``live''. Yes, when I say that I took another sip, I meant that I had taken another sip of JD indeed. Talk about redudancy.
*takes another sip*
M3h. It's starting to taste like molten ice (it sounds hotter than it is, but trust me, molten ice is just water... really cold water). No need for strong fire tonight---I have the summer heat to thank for that. So I'm just asking for a light buzz of some sort to help me relax a little.
*crunches the ice with teeth*
Yep, that's the last of whatever was in my glass. And this post too, it seems.
*takes a sip*
Some might say that it is a terrible day to be drinking any form of hard liquor, but I'm known to make some rather irrational decisions from time to time as part of filling up my quota of ``erring to be human''.
*takes another sip*
On the way home today, I realised a sad truth---I can't actually will myself to cry. It just doesn't work; I get to within a hair's breadth of tearing up, but it stops short there, whether or not I'm listening to sappy lost-love music.
*takes another sip*
Too macho maybe? Who knows? But I suppose that I don't really have a good reason to need to cry; hell, even when I broke my bone those couple of times, even when I had that excruciating pain, all I did was to wince a little and then get up through force of will.
The only times I ever cried where when my grandma was incinerated after death and when some chick had broken up with me.
*takes another sip*
So maybe crying is not the way for me to relieve stress. That's a relief, in some ways---heheheh at least it asserts that I'm still ``macho'' enough. And no, I'm no ``Massive Compact Halo Object'', since I'm still mostly matter the last I checked.
*takes another sip*
I'm kinda going easy on the JD this time round, ever since that little experiment of the Ya Kun coffee went astray. It's probably a shot of JD on the rocks... I know, I know. I don't usually drink hard liquor on the rocks, but tonight's a special occasion to you know, not get too ridiculous from my relative sensitivity to both alcohol and caffeine due to reduction in use.
*takes another sip*
And yes, this is yet another one of those free-form auto-writing experiments ``live''. Yes, when I say that I took another sip, I meant that I had taken another sip of JD indeed. Talk about redudancy.
*takes another sip*
M3h. It's starting to taste like molten ice (it sounds hotter than it is, but trust me, molten ice is just water... really cold water). No need for strong fire tonight---I have the summer heat to thank for that. So I'm just asking for a light buzz of some sort to help me relax a little.
*crunches the ice with teeth*
Yep, that's the last of whatever was in my glass. And this post too, it seems.
Friday, June 03, 2011
Don't Invite Me To Any More Social Networks
You know something? It is really strange that people who don't talk to you for long periods of time are still somehow keeping track of you, if only in a cursory manner. But what annoys me the most is that these people will still happily click on that spammy ``invite all your friends'' link to add me to their social network.
Eh, why the hell do you add someone to your ``social network'' when you have not interacted with that person ``socially'' in a damn long time? Doesn't the whole concept of ``we are not talking with each other'' mean anything to you? Can't you just leave me the hell alone by not clicking on that spammy button to add me to what is effectively your bragging board?
Anyway, truth be told---I am really not into the whole social network thing. The only reason I even have a damn facebook account is because the current breed of people whom I have to work/play/live with don't seem to understand the concept of using email and want to do everything (from planning to wrap up) on facebook. Already I am a social misfit who partakes in little of the whole ``social life'' phenomena; if I still stay away from this facebook nonsense, I think I'd be in worser shape.
If facebook went belly up tomorrow morning, I wouldn't even drop a tear. It was, has been, and will be a meaningless thing to me.
By extension, I hate all the other social network sites, whether under the guise of it being ``for professionals only'' or not. If folks can recall, facebook used to be a ``for college students only'' thing---that was one of the main reasons that I convinced myself to sign up for an account on it to keep abreast of things that are happening on and around campus. But then it opened up to the rabblement and see what happens now.
I think I'm starting to sound like a grumpy old man now. Heheh.
------
It doesn't take an Einstein to realise that I'm starting to write new entries here on a slightly higher frequency. Yes, it is usually a sign that things are not going well in real life, but that aside, I think that being segregated from people everywhere has a strange way of making me want to write more. Writing is fun; writing is therapeutic. Writing has a way of allowing me to just sit there in an easy chair, and just hack away without a care in the world. But of course, writing because things are not going well is just different from writing fiction---between the two, I think I'm a little better at the former than the latter, since I don't usually have the wherewithal to actually start on any new pieces of fiction (read as: I don't have many stories I feel compelled to tell).
Anyway, it is obvious that I'm just deviating from the main topic of today's bitching. So, till the next time.
Eh, why the hell do you add someone to your ``social network'' when you have not interacted with that person ``socially'' in a damn long time? Doesn't the whole concept of ``we are not talking with each other'' mean anything to you? Can't you just leave me the hell alone by not clicking on that spammy button to add me to what is effectively your bragging board?
Anyway, truth be told---I am really not into the whole social network thing. The only reason I even have a damn facebook account is because the current breed of people whom I have to work/play/live with don't seem to understand the concept of using email and want to do everything (from planning to wrap up) on facebook. Already I am a social misfit who partakes in little of the whole ``social life'' phenomena; if I still stay away from this facebook nonsense, I think I'd be in worser shape.
If facebook went belly up tomorrow morning, I wouldn't even drop a tear. It was, has been, and will be a meaningless thing to me.
By extension, I hate all the other social network sites, whether under the guise of it being ``for professionals only'' or not. If folks can recall, facebook used to be a ``for college students only'' thing---that was one of the main reasons that I convinced myself to sign up for an account on it to keep abreast of things that are happening on and around campus. But then it opened up to the rabblement and see what happens now.
I think I'm starting to sound like a grumpy old man now. Heheh.
------
It doesn't take an Einstein to realise that I'm starting to write new entries here on a slightly higher frequency. Yes, it is usually a sign that things are not going well in real life, but that aside, I think that being segregated from people everywhere has a strange way of making me want to write more. Writing is fun; writing is therapeutic. Writing has a way of allowing me to just sit there in an easy chair, and just hack away without a care in the world. But of course, writing because things are not going well is just different from writing fiction---between the two, I think I'm a little better at the former than the latter, since I don't usually have the wherewithal to actually start on any new pieces of fiction (read as: I don't have many stories I feel compelled to tell).
Anyway, it is obvious that I'm just deviating from the main topic of today's bitching. So, till the next time.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Aaaand the Caffeine is Gone
And I now have yet another reason to avoid imbibing too much caffeine and alcohol. I swear that my demeanour changes pretty drastically when either concoctions are taken beyond a certain level, and more often than not, it is one where I become more morose and maudlin. Well, it is not to say that my usual manner is very jovial (it isn't that jovial), but at least it is something that is passable as being vaguely humanish.
Anyway, caffeine quantity. Well, it was an experiment of sorts---I ordered the ``kopi gao upsized'' option from the Ya Kun shop downstairs of my office at around 0800hrs, and finished it by 0830hrs. A big mistake, it seems, since it made me much loopier than usual; I believe a more appropriate word is ``drugged''. But it had some good outcome of course---I managed to get past writing some really ugly looking Python code involving inspection, iterative tools and functional tools, all in the name of science (you monster). It was done to avoid having to write my own parser and grammar for my research---it looks a little ugly for a piece of Python code, but it is probably as clean as it gets given what it is intended to do.
So now, it's late at night, I'm still somewhat awake. Time to deal with some of the administrative mumbo-jumbo prior to entry into graduate school.
Till the next loopy time. =P
Anyway, caffeine quantity. Well, it was an experiment of sorts---I ordered the ``kopi gao upsized'' option from the Ya Kun shop downstairs of my office at around 0800hrs, and finished it by 0830hrs. A big mistake, it seems, since it made me much loopier than usual; I believe a more appropriate word is ``drugged''. But it had some good outcome of course---I managed to get past writing some really ugly looking Python code involving inspection, iterative tools and functional tools, all in the name of science (you monster). It was done to avoid having to write my own parser and grammar for my research---it looks a little ugly for a piece of Python code, but it is probably as clean as it gets given what it is intended to do.
So now, it's late at night, I'm still somewhat awake. Time to deal with some of the administrative mumbo-jumbo prior to entry into graduate school.
Till the next loopy time. =P
Huh..?
I think that my tolerance to caffeine is at an all time low. I'm actually pretty light-headed at the moment, considering that I had only taken about 200ml of strong coffee at around 8am in the morning, which is a good five hours ago. I'm not sure if this is a good thing, but it seems to have the same effect on me as alcohol, in the sense that my brain feels less grounded in reality and more ``up there'' with whatever there is.
Can this be considered as a type of drug-induced escapism? Granted, it is not something of an illegal nature (last I checked, caffeine isn't on that list of prohibited substances), yet it seems to give roughly the same euphoric/carefree effect that the ``usual'' recreational drugs give. Escapism---it seems that my life is fast becoming one that is largely based on this idea, with things that I do seemingly to avoid the drudgery, to avoid the discomfort, to avoid the overall fakeness of frienship and camaraderie.
Why so cynical, one might ask. I have no answer, no answer at all. Cynicism has always been a part of my nature; it is only at those unguarded moments that I permit myself to be less so and to exude a certain contentment with the world that seems baffling to some, including myself. Cynicism is what makes me me, and perhaps that is one reason why I am starting to develop ever stronger negative emotions towards people in general.
People. Hard to live without them, hard to live with them. I wondeer why this is so. Is what I'm experiencing a cry for help that I don't quite realise, or is it something that everyone goes through at one point or another in their lives? Questions, questions, questions, but no answers are forthcoming---to whom may I address all these questions to? Is religion an answer to these vexing questions about life, humans and reality, or is there a more rational perspective that requires little of the whole ``leap of faith'' assumption? More questions that I cannot seem to answer, and I hate questions that I have no answer to.
I think the caffeine is really affecting my brain now; I can't seem to figure out just what point am I making here---it appears that I'm just content typing and typing and letting those words out of my head as though they were part of some water hosereel whose tap had just been released. So many words, so little explanation and coherence---maybe that's what I am in real life; all theory and no coherence whatsoever. No wonder my life feels like an escapism fantasy as I live from one dream to the next in reality while discarding the real dreams that I have when I sleep, the ones that supposedly reflect my true innermost needs and wants.
Needs and wants. What is it I need, and what is it I want? Am I really as fearless as I think I am, or is there something that will make me tremble in my soul? Questions, questions and more questions, and none of the answers. No more support group from now on, it seems---all those people who were a part of my so-called support group have disappeared, each doing their own things, busy with their own sordid lives, and no one has time to listen to poor old me belly-ache and to offer alternative viewpoints and solutions. Some have diverged to the point that my mere presence is enough to cause a rather vitriolic response, warranted or not. I suppose I could just damn those people, but that would be unnecessarily cruel and irrational, would it be not?
I think that now, more than ever, I really need to start to become that island that no one wants to be. To be self-sufficient in thought, to be self-perpetuating, to be self-aware. If that turns me into some sociopath/psychopath, too bad---blame it on the society, our favourite whipping child for everything that is wrong. A pity that my upbringing makes it nearly impossible for me to cause any serious harm to others---I'm sure that it would be quite an interesting if not liberating experience, and all the harm that I can do is to think myself to death. So morbid... heheheh...
Of course, in times like this where my mind is not as it is (under the influence of caffeine here, for example), I start to wonder about some other questions that I have no answer to: am I really that hard to talk to/communicate/be with? This is of course a flipping of some of the questions around---instead of blaming society like every other human does, I start blaming myself. Maybe the people of the support group left because I have turned into something that is cantankerous and hard to talk to. Memories of situations where niceness is shot down come to mind---I don't want to think about it anymore. Let 'em all perish in a conflagaration---I should just be yet another selfish person on the planet.
*sigh*
Hate, hate, hate... what's there to like about me? Everyone seems to have some form of hatred for me, be it small or gigantic. I think I'm starting to hate myself a little too, for being that pushover sort of person. Sometimes I wish this were an ancient setting, where being a hermit is actually a realisable dream. Unfortunately, with the consistent lure of modern amenities (and my current training (curse you!)), that is just not so possible.
Maybe the answer lies in complete misanthropy, dealing with people only when it is the only way to deal with the matter on hand, and having a general despise of people in generaal. That actually sounds pretty cool, but again I blame my upbringing for not being able to pull this off nicely.
Why am I so contrary today?!
Can this be considered as a type of drug-induced escapism? Granted, it is not something of an illegal nature (last I checked, caffeine isn't on that list of prohibited substances), yet it seems to give roughly the same euphoric/carefree effect that the ``usual'' recreational drugs give. Escapism---it seems that my life is fast becoming one that is largely based on this idea, with things that I do seemingly to avoid the drudgery, to avoid the discomfort, to avoid the overall fakeness of frienship and camaraderie.
Why so cynical, one might ask. I have no answer, no answer at all. Cynicism has always been a part of my nature; it is only at those unguarded moments that I permit myself to be less so and to exude a certain contentment with the world that seems baffling to some, including myself. Cynicism is what makes me me, and perhaps that is one reason why I am starting to develop ever stronger negative emotions towards people in general.
People. Hard to live without them, hard to live with them. I wondeer why this is so. Is what I'm experiencing a cry for help that I don't quite realise, or is it something that everyone goes through at one point or another in their lives? Questions, questions, questions, but no answers are forthcoming---to whom may I address all these questions to? Is religion an answer to these vexing questions about life, humans and reality, or is there a more rational perspective that requires little of the whole ``leap of faith'' assumption? More questions that I cannot seem to answer, and I hate questions that I have no answer to.
I think the caffeine is really affecting my brain now; I can't seem to figure out just what point am I making here---it appears that I'm just content typing and typing and letting those words out of my head as though they were part of some water hosereel whose tap had just been released. So many words, so little explanation and coherence---maybe that's what I am in real life; all theory and no coherence whatsoever. No wonder my life feels like an escapism fantasy as I live from one dream to the next in reality while discarding the real dreams that I have when I sleep, the ones that supposedly reflect my true innermost needs and wants.
Needs and wants. What is it I need, and what is it I want? Am I really as fearless as I think I am, or is there something that will make me tremble in my soul? Questions, questions and more questions, and none of the answers. No more support group from now on, it seems---all those people who were a part of my so-called support group have disappeared, each doing their own things, busy with their own sordid lives, and no one has time to listen to poor old me belly-ache and to offer alternative viewpoints and solutions. Some have diverged to the point that my mere presence is enough to cause a rather vitriolic response, warranted or not. I suppose I could just damn those people, but that would be unnecessarily cruel and irrational, would it be not?
I think that now, more than ever, I really need to start to become that island that no one wants to be. To be self-sufficient in thought, to be self-perpetuating, to be self-aware. If that turns me into some sociopath/psychopath, too bad---blame it on the society, our favourite whipping child for everything that is wrong. A pity that my upbringing makes it nearly impossible for me to cause any serious harm to others---I'm sure that it would be quite an interesting if not liberating experience, and all the harm that I can do is to think myself to death. So morbid... heheheh...
Of course, in times like this where my mind is not as it is (under the influence of caffeine here, for example), I start to wonder about some other questions that I have no answer to: am I really that hard to talk to/communicate/be with? This is of course a flipping of some of the questions around---instead of blaming society like every other human does, I start blaming myself. Maybe the people of the support group left because I have turned into something that is cantankerous and hard to talk to. Memories of situations where niceness is shot down come to mind---I don't want to think about it anymore. Let 'em all perish in a conflagaration---I should just be yet another selfish person on the planet.
*sigh*
Hate, hate, hate... what's there to like about me? Everyone seems to have some form of hatred for me, be it small or gigantic. I think I'm starting to hate myself a little too, for being that pushover sort of person. Sometimes I wish this were an ancient setting, where being a hermit is actually a realisable dream. Unfortunately, with the consistent lure of modern amenities (and my current training (curse you!)), that is just not so possible.
Maybe the answer lies in complete misanthropy, dealing with people only when it is the only way to deal with the matter on hand, and having a general despise of people in generaal. That actually sounds pretty cool, but again I blame my upbringing for not being able to pull this off nicely.
Why am I so contrary today?!
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