Happy Valentine's Day...

The reasons I won't be coming...

There was a girl. Someone I once disliked and irritated me beyond explanation. I knew her back in school and we could never see eye to eye on anything. There’s a lot more to the story but essentially time passed and memories faded. Things happened and I grew to love her. She was not beautiful by any standards, and was not the most gentle, or kind, or talented. She was just her. Normal, plain, a little spoilt, a little temper, a little stubborn, a little incomprehensible. But I loved her. It was a love that was probably not meant to be as we were never quite suited for each other. We quarreled so often as if it was a normal part of our lives, and it wasn’t small petty bickers. I was perpetually in depression and my life felt poisoned as I dragged my feet each day anticipating the next quarrel we would have. It’s probably not her fault alone. Perhaps it was communication, perhaps it was values, perhaps it was our upbringing and differing life experiences. Many couples go through a honeymoon phase of bliss before reality hits them. We never quite did. Right from the beginning, it started from heartbreak as I had to watch her deciding to be with another man. My persistence probably changed her mind, but deep down I always felt that I was the third party who carried the official title for namesake. Starting out the wrong way set the precedence for a lot of prejudice as this became one of the common topics we argue about as well. This was probably the only fight I would pick with her, or at least along that theme. She on the other hand seemed to be able to find fault with everything. Make the smallest things into a potential sign for apocalypse. It was draining. During our first year, during the good times, we would have two major quarrels a month. Despite all that, I kept thinking that she’s the one and if we can sort out all these issues, when we’re a little more stable, when my career is a little more stable, I’ll propose to her. I used to think of how we would design and decorate our home, how I would want the wedding and how I would plot the proposal. I did a lot of research in a very short time and bought a ring, something within my means at that time. She was working overseas then. It must be very tough and lonely. Times were difficult and we persisted with the quarrels, attributing a lot of the emotional tensions and instability to distance. We’re both fairly independent people, and thought we would like that space for each other. Theoretically it seemed right. I wanted to discuss about plans when she intended to return, how much we should save up in order to get married or afford a place. She on the other hand was a spendthrift and was happy to get great exposure overseas, not ready to commit to coming back to Singapore before knowing what she’s exploring and experiencing. “Why can’t you just quit your job, come here and accompany me, take some classes learn the local language?” She said. She had no consideration if that would be good for my career progression or if it was even possible to find a job or posting there. I guess I would not want to uproot and throw aside everything if she was going to return after a year or two. I could wait since it was already half year into her posting. I waited for her return, hoping when she’s back and things stabilize, I’ll propose to her. Things never did quite stabilize. Somehow the squabbles never quite stopped. There was always a different reason to be upset each time. At some point I felt unappreciated, neglected, taken for granted. I dare not tell my friends or colleagues, they only see me unhappy all the time, and they dare not ask. And so… I led my life that way, isolating myself for two years. I broke up with her after asking for some time and space. She cried really hard, she begged me. Literally, she begged me, “Please.” I cried together with her but was so convinced we would never work out. I walked away. I walked away not for any more reason, not for any reason I could really articulate, remember, or rationalize. I walked away, simple because I could. She begged and cried. And I walked away as my heart broke leaving a trail of shards behind.

Rather quickly after, I saw another girl. She was smart, pretty, cultured, articulate, sensitive and saw my talents, appreciated me for who I am. We went out often, and got intimate. There were no expectations. It was probably difficult to stay that way for long when the attraction was that intense. Yet neither she nor me were willing to take the first step of emotional commitment. Ultimately I realized that I couldn’t. Not so soon, not like this when my heart was still bleeding. She was but a distraction. Someone I had used to stop myself thinking. I forced myself to move on too fast before being ready hoping that by moving on, I can no longer look back. I did.

I could not bear myself as I remember, as I recall the memory of her crying and begging. I have never seen anyone beg before in my life. Not like this. Not the way she threw all pride aside degraded herself to nothingness just to get a chance for me to look at her again. I felt dirty and worthless to be able to walk away despite all that. How could I do that to someone whom I have loved so deep? It was a tough decision. If I were to get back with her, I would never ever want to hurt her that way again, I would never ever want to see her cry like that again. And this time, no matter what, I will make it work. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how. But we got back together, se found out about the girl I was with and felt that I had cheated on her. Actually, I did. Before she came back to Singapore. And with this woman too, whom I was still seeing because I could not cut her off that easily. I two-timed for a short while, and she knew. It took a while for me to dare to be close to her again, for me to learn to love her again, for her to finally ease her paranoia and grief of the cheating. I was caring for her, trying hard to love her as a mental patient who almost made me one as well. I often wondered if I had made the wrong decision. At some point, I cried, wanting to give up, and thought perhaps death was easier and perhaps it would prove what I wanted to prove. Half a year went by. Things finally got better. But perhaps it was not quite the same anymore. I was no longer, naively thinking she will definitely be the one for me. I wanted to work towards that, but I wanted us to both have the space we needed, wanted to work towards both of us being inclusive of each other into out lives but also having a balance. Yet for her, she felt that I was less ready to give my love. Less ready to do the small, romantic things which we used to do. I did hold back. I was a lot more cautious with my love. Perhaps she was right that I had changed. But I still loved her. And my love for her was not any less, I just changed the way I showed it. I showed it less. She got stressed at her job. We spent a lot less time together. I was always busy with my job, and she was never happy about it. We started drifting apart. I spent more time with friends, made some new friends. We go out partying and joked about all kinds of stuff. They were a bunch of people I could be myself, anyone, or anything with. I could be a smart aleck, a lecher, an idiot, or a clown. I felt at ease and talked to her about my friends. Perhaps I was having more fun with my friends than with her. Perhaps she was not available. We do not do anything much over the weekends. It was her place, my place, trying not to be late for her family meals. Sleeping in. Somehow, we could never seem to find time away from our family commitments to do something different, to do something for ourselves. If I wanted to hang out she would want to go home early. If I wanted to go somewhere and do something, she would have family lunch and we would only have 3pm onwards to go anywhere and so we didn’t. We rapidly entered the mature phase of a marriage before we had the chance of much dating. Perhaps we both spent too little effort trying to keep it alive. We started to become strangers. I was trying to keep myself occupied, trying to re-establish a life of my own, have time with family and friends, reconnect with my hobbies. While she just watched me silently drift apart. She claimed that I had changed. That I had become a social butterfly that I started liking popularity and clubbing and nightlife and had a lot of fun with friends. I refused to acknowledge. I had always been that way. I had always been a fun-loving person who loved to make jokes, always a little mischievous, always a little bit of the centre-stage though I wasn’t exactly going after the publicity or attention. I had been that way since she knew me a long time ago. I had changed to isolate myself with her to please her and ease the quarrels, I had changed to lose contact with a lot of my friends because I was with her. I am finding back who I used to be. I just hoped she would still love me for who I am. I was disappointed. As opposed to thinking if she’s the one for me, I started to doubt if I am the kind of person she wants and needs. I had always been an ambitious, and driven person, planning for 100 years ahead of how my life should be, striving towards that. I had always been looking at strategic marketing, business management functions, or setting up my own business one day as an eventual goal or direction. And in the midst, taking on jobs with steep learning, curve, great exposure, but work me hard. I had always planned to get an MBA one day to earn my right into the corporate sector and give me an opportunity into management. I had always known that one day I will take up a regional job, and perhaps get posted overseas one day. I thought she would understand. But she was never happy, or excited about it. Instead, her disappointment, silence made me feel she understands my desires but was never quite supportive of it, except she did not want to start a quarrel and did not know how else to respond. Hence, she was, anything but positive.

I watched my first musical with her, and perhaps my last. Musicals were too expensive for me, I borrowed my friend’s Phantom of the Opera CD and copied it back in 1994, I read two different versions of the book and got obsessed by Erik. It seemed that I understood him. I played him in a school play, where I made my own mask. A broken mask just as Erik’s which I wish I could hide behind forever. I then heard of Les Miserables, but got less impressed. Perhaps it was sour grapes that musicals were beyond my reach that I’d rather not learn to appreciate them. Perhaps, I was prejudiced against anglophile elitists and an unfair society where the old boys network, the anglophile and so-called English educated or privately educated has a lot more opportunities laid before them o a silver platter. I struggled from a neighbourhood school trying to survive and find a way to outsmart the system. Perhaps I was oppressed or perhaps it was my own inferiority complex, and envy, my own aspiration and jealousy from the eyes of poverty. When I graduated, I proudly compared myself to a cockroach. I’m willing to eat anything and willing to go anywhere. You can’t see me and may not want to, but nothing can get rid of me, and nothing can kill me. I climb the tallest buildings and climb on the chandeliers while the noblemen dance their waltz on their polished marble floors. I scurry into the gutters where the rats thrive and I scavenge for the scraps the gets washed down the gutters. I pride myself for being effectively bilingual, to be comfortable in China, as in the USA, as in Singapore, to be comfortable with the contractors as to be comfortable with the CEO. And I scorn the anglophiles and elitists who will never understand, yet I yearn to join their league. She was born there, curious about the noises she hear from the gutters and found her way through that. We started from opposite ends and met each other, passed each other before we knew each other. It was a musical in itself but it wasn’t a show. It was real. So real that even the encore had to end. We caught quite a few musicals together and always enjoyed the local ones especially with Hossan Leong, or the Dim Sum Dollies. Their witty, sarcastic, sometimes a little crude humour was exactly what we could both relate to. Perhaps I never thought much of myself, but yearned to. But I never thought she thought much of me. I’m still not quite sure she did. I wished I could be her everything, I wanted to be her hero, wanted to be the one to show her the world, show her and explore everything with her. Be there to experience all sort of excitements with her and be there to take care of her. But I’m not sure I can. I’m not sure there’s a lot more I can show that she has not already seen, that her ex boyfriend has already shown her, that the other guys can afford to treat her. I’m striving to survive because if I don’t, I can’t. I’m not sure she will ever understand how that feels like. It’s my life, and my burden. Not hers. Though in many ways, she’s exactly the kind of person I was looking for, in many ways, I was not sure if I’m the kind of person she’s looking for. I almost never ask her out with my friends in case she get upset for one reason or the other. She get upset with me enough, she probably does not need to be upset with people around me. But since she’s curious and getting jealous of my friends, perhaps it would be nice for her to know them. I was sure she would like them and have fun with them too. I asked her to join us for the Hossan Leong show. They wanted to go clubbing thereafter and she didn’t. She wanted to give me space but wanted to go home alone. I didn’t allow that to happen but my friends felt awkward and I was embarrassed. She was unhappy, that I asked her out only because my friends wanted to watch the Hossan Leong show and the majority of them were female. I was made to reflect. I guess I did. I felt that she has became a little distant and a little strange to me. She was busy with her own work, and happy with her own friends. When she was with me, she’s either distant or upset. Perhaps I was not what she was looking for anymore. Perhaps she needed to think. Perhaps she needed space this time. I’m not sure if she would ever recognize that I am not right for her. She would not recognize because she loved me so much. But she would not come begging again. We broke up once again. But this time, it was silent. We communicated via our own blog posting knowing that the other would be the only person reading that blog. We both did, religiously. So religiously we could almost anticipate and expect instant replies the next day. The blog was my last resort, when I have so much pent up and I did not want to contact her. That was my way of venting. Yet knowing she would read it brings me some sort of comfort. Perhaps she felt the same too. And we could not move on because of that. We both stopped blogging. But I still can’t move on. Not even when I already have someone new in my life beside me, patiently waiting. I still love her. 

Its a small world after all

I was watching "We Bought a Zoo" on Funshion. The brother of the protagonist was telling him "...the world is gonna get very small if you don't go to any of the places where you and Katherine used to go..."

I guess I didn't realise what I was doing. I've been avoiding... hiding away form places we've been to. I want to have a holiday so badly, I need a break, yet I fear going to beach resorts for that was where we spent so many trips even before we got together. I've been avoiding places we hung out, I've been avoiding Sentosa. You seem to be doing the opposite of reliving memories and going places we've been to, memories we've had without me. Are we both escaping in different ways? Both lingering in different ways?

Sometimes I just wish to know how you're doing... just want to know that you're doing well. The world is getting too small...

Me and the elephant, we still remember you

Heard a song on the radio the other day... The elephant and me... interesting lyrics. Thought one day it could apply to either of us.

I don't know how to say this... honestly, I have not been truly happy ever since I left you. I guess there were times we were really unhappy when we were together. Times when you were unhappy with me, and times when I was unhappy with you, times when I was unhappy with myself. But there were times when we were really happy too, times when I was really happy. I thought you should know that.

I wonder how you're doing but again I'm afraid of hurting you, afraid that we're just not letting each other move on. I recently learnt how closed my heart actually really is. I thought for a long time how I could not move on from the shadow and past of our failed relationship, but then I thought again. Perhaps my heart was closed even before then. I'm sorry and I don't know why or how my heart closed off to you too. Maybe that's how you felt distant even though you were just beside me.

I was brought up with the teaching never to regret anything in life, and thus never do anything we might regret as well. Of course that's not totally true but in a way, there's always something worthy of a lesson or a blessing in disguise, a wrong turn that leads us and makes us who we are through mistakes, hardships, heartbreaks. Thus even if bad things happen, even if we make mistakes, I was taught not to regret life as that does the present nor future any good. In a way, I guess it seems like a carpe diem mentality, but again I'd like to defect to memento mori as only because of the limited time we have in this world that we should cherish, embrace, and appreciate life's experiences be it up or down, as that's what gives life colour beyond the greater design of a fairly common and repetitive structure of just life itself. Nonetheless, I look back and can't help feeling sorry and can't help feeling regret for a lot of my experiences and decisions. Perhaps one day I might look back and it all does't matter in the infinity of this world and time where our existence was pretty insignificant. But we existed. 'We' existed. And today... is not that day. Cuz me and the elephant, we still remember you.

I've underestimated you...

I should have left it at silence...... somehow with you, that always seemed like the better option.

Its not that we should not be communicating. I just feel that you always rapidly descend into negativity and pessimism every time things go slightly better. I was reading one of the older posts some time ago... I believe it was "A tribute to the man I loved"... Reading it made me feel touched.... and reminisce about a lot of things from the past, how we started, the things we did... but rather quickly after that, it transcended into negativity, blaming me for the breakdown of our relationship, that I was already not loving after the first breakup. I never loved you any less... But I felt pushed away... and there were always reasons different reasons... I guess I was never quite comfortable with your absolute and resolute. For that reason, you could never stand me for the way I handle decisions, problems, and conflicts as well. Probably one of the reasons why we handle conflicts so badly and why we always end up on conflict.

I guess you really hate me for keep justifying the breakup. Honestly I probably forgotten the reasons but I know I questioned fundamental fit of our characters and personalities. Only thing I underestimated was love... it was strong and enduring... but my faith is weak and to avoid conflict, I retreat, and remain silent, I escape and avoid. Irritates the hell out of you doesn't it? I remember you quarreling with me about sweeping things under the carpet before... and now, its easier than ever especially when there are so many other things occupying my mind... and before I know it I'm off to another country again. Is there any point in conflict still at this point? Finger pointing, or spiraling negativities? I thought there was nothing left or we were at rock bottom. I'd love to catch up, to talk and find out how you're doing, and I think we did enjoy doing that... I just hope each interaction we have does not result in the subsequent spiraling down again.

Sigh... This posting does't end up making any of us feel any better does it? I'm sorry...

10-years

Back to blogging..

I never knew if continuing to blog was a good idea.. it seems that this was how we were going to communicate if anymore.. but then again.. lots of thoughts are shared here.. perhaps more than we did before..

I wonder what makes love enduring.. what makes relationships fragile.. its funny I attended a "class gathering" of sorts.. not my class.. Azhar's class.. I do not remember how or why I started crashing his class gatherings but it has been for a while that I'm now part of the clique. Funny how they were talking about Prometheus and I was complaining I don't have movie company nowadays.. They suggested I jio Kenny, one of Azhar's JC classmates of course, incidentally also the son of my dad's friend. When I replied that I don't do "married men", they mentioned that he's not married when I clearly remembered attending his wedding. I guess marriages don't last very long nowadays. Its the 5th divorce I know personally.. and of course quite a few others involved with married men.

Lots of things have happened recently.. so many things. Somehow, things don't really get better. We just learn to cope with them easier. You came over the other day.. passed me back my sweatshirt.. it was rather painful to receive it honestly. Frankly I have't quite packed up your stuff yet, they have been always in the cupboard. Maybe I'm just lazy, maybe I don't know where else to keep them. I wonder if we'll ever be able to move on.

I often wonder how we'll be 10 years from now... I'll probably be married with kids... separated... going through a difficult divorce. Having another relationship to which I can't emotionally commit to... my wife taking care of the kids, potentially dating and moving on. I'm in a regional leadership position in another MNC, having taken my MBA. Probably spent a couple of years being posted overseas. My dad has probably passed away, my mom's a lot more lifeless ever since, my brother just gotten married for a couple of years, doing well in his job, exploring a start up with some friends but also having another full time job of his own. We probably still catch up for coffee from time to time, you and I no longer have this awkward silence. I'll probably share with you my problems, partially... but you're also only willing to listen partially. You might be dating... might be married... we're no longer close. I guess you know my chronic issue and its up to me to leave the vicious cycle and pattern. Strange how at 40 years old I should be having nice family.. planning for kids and starting to look at long term financial stability for retirement but everything is being redefined 10 years from now.. perhaps my life had never really been stable. I should never have gotten married. I wonder if I loved my wife as much as I should or if it was another logical decision. I wonder how the world would have changed in 10 years time.. technology... social... political... and then I start thinking... how fat would I have grown in 10 years time? Haha... oh well... somehow, life does't seem quite appealing to look forward to. Its quite paradoxical that in attempt to make responsible decisions, I seem to end up making the most irresponsible ones.

Anyway.. I have not been blogging cuz I really wasn't sure if it was a good idea. I wanted you to move on, fall in love again, be happy.. maybe like you said, I can't engineer life's plans and fate, and happiness this way.. the second reason why I've not blogged was because blogger changed its format and for the longest time, I had no idea how to create new postings.. stupid excuse I know.. but between figuring out and having business trips and a whole host of other problems to deal with, its an easy excuse to KIV and put aside. Another easy way of escapism is to sleep and sleep and sleep alot to avoid thinking or facing anyone or any situation. Oh well... I'm not making any more sense... its the Laphroig 10yrs talking now.

Silence

Wondering what all this silence means... we both took turns to break the silence... to no conclusion... to further ambiguity... Is the extremity in the ambiguity or is the just indifference left? I am certainly mistaken, misunderstood yet I feel such difficulty explaining myself. Part of me wonder about the implications if I had to explain too much. What does your blog post even mean, if you're going to turn silent now?

I was very close... so very close to making the decision of my life. To try it out one last time... but this time, to try it out the remaining of our very short lifetimes. The last bit of intimacy we had became confusing... Its was familiar, yet I'm confused by what I felt in you. It wasn't a new beginning, it was closure. I guess perhaps I'm not the only one not knowing what I want any more. I left greeting your parents shyly with guilt that I have hurt you once again, with confusion as I did not know what it meant. The look in your dad's eyes, a mixture of fear, confusion, and worry. Worry for you...

They must have spoken to you after that. If that's the reason for the silence, I guess, I shouldn't have called or messaged in the first place. I was watching a show recently, where this girl wrote a letter to a guy everyday after he rejected her. She didn't really hope for him to accept him but just wanted him to know her better, know her life her thoughts each day. He didn't say much, confused and burdened but he enjoyed reading about her, feeling close to her in that distance. One day when she stopped writing to him, he felt lost and frantic despite not having expressed anything to her before. I had half a mind to do somethign similar, send you a letter or postcard from each country, and city I've been to... but right now, I'm not sure I should anymore.

Perhaps your way of dealing with things is not very different from me, escaping, planning your escape. A few years shall pass again. Actually I know this was what you always wanted, a few years overseas. Its just hard to include another person in this plan. Japan didn't exactly work out, you came back earlier for me and a year wasn't quite enough for you. With a reason to escape perhaps you can put these plans into action once again. Where does this lead you? Nobody knows... but perhaps that's the beauty of it... though melancholic in a way.

I had been in denial for a while and I guess sometimes I have a way of convincing myself if I'm determined enough to do so. You're right. I've changed... perhaps not in a good way. But I'm not sure what's the kind me you wanted and if that's what I want too. Had a brief chat with my boss last week. It was a conversation we should have had a while back but its not too late. I guess I already know what I signed up for and the path it leads me on. Unlike your dad who gave up his career opportunity, stayed in Singapore and started his own company in his younger days. I don't feel I have the choice. The uncertainty in my life is going to be more than just the next 2-3 years.

If you're already thinking of escaping.........
I guess we both have our ways of handling issues like this.

You say that I chose not to believe we can make it... and now I'm choosing to be indecisive about it. I am afraid that we can't make it and we're just wasting time and hurting each other. I hoped to be able to believe, hoped that you could give me the courage to believe, yet how can you have the courage while going through this, while facing my uncertainty? No one should be that strong and I don't expect you to be. Its just wishful thinking and I can't expect anything anymore.

Perhaps I can still write you a postcard. Perhaps it will mean hurting you. Perhaps I shouldn't. Perhaps I should have let this silence be... Perhaps you're no longer reading my blog. Quesas, quesas, quesas...

Insomnia

Isn't it funny how often I travel and yet each time before my flight, I lose sleep the night before. You're probably used to my weird antics by now. 5:54am... my Flight is at 1220pm. Half thinking if we could have breakfast somewhere nice... but you like to seep in... lazy...!!!

Not quite settled back in Singapore yet, and off I go again...

Everything and nothing

I finally found time to sneak off and collect my Bose Companion 5 System. Really love it... I was so skeptical that my downloaded or YouTube converted MP3s were not going to be of good enough quality to do the Companion 5 any justice. Well... They weren't. But the Companion 5 still did a whole lot of improvement to those songs... Played some jazz on it too... simply love it.

I took my brother's 23" monitor from his room and his bedside tank as well. :) Everything is set in my room except for the big planted tank.big screen, nice speakers... but somehow I'm no longer having time, energy, or habit to watch the funshion downloads anymore. I guess I reallyenjoyed lazing around to catch episode after episode, chasing season after season, but I guess we haven't done that for a long while already. We tried to with Supernatural... but that has been quite a while back. Kindda wonder what's the point of the nice monitor and sound sytem now... I have everything and yet nothing...

Been visiting operating theatres watching cases, really interesting watching the doctors in action removing tumours performing all kinds of procedures, how they use our products, how our reps try to sell them more of our products, how amazing our products work and make surgeries so much easier for surgeons. I bought a plantronics bluetooth headset as well since my new boss strongly advises me to invest in a set. Love it... easy to use, sleek looking, and it comes with a charging pouch which can charge the headset while I'm on the move as well. I guess I have been really busy... catching a day and a half's flu in between as well. All is well now... but I really should get some sleep. My work now starts at 8am and I typically leave home by 7am, wake up at 6:30am, and sleep at 11pm. A huge biological clock resetting exercise!!!

Zzzzzzz....................... Just feeling awfully empty... Zzzzzz.................... missing you...

The golden ring

The other day I had a strange dream. I was at work, probably overseas travelling or something. I was in a discussion with some directors when I noticed that I was wearing the ring once again. It brought me a sense of comfort and stability, a sense of grounding and belonging. It was our ring, but it wasn't quite the same. Somehow it was a little older, a little flatter, and it had become golden. I felt slightly older too, more certain, confident and composed.

moving along...

Had a discussion/argument with you again over msn. I don't know why each time we try to work or talk things out, we just end up being inconclusive, quarrelsome, frustrated, and resigned at the result and process. We ended the conversation with you being tired... I guess so was I... Did we start the wrong way? Perhaps we always had too many negative vibes between us. Perhaps we never really knew how to communicate with each other... even until now when the stakes are so high, we think we are compromising but the other party doesnt hear us anymore. Perhaps this is why we are always arguing over the smallest unimportant stuff. Why are we so quarrelsome? I must be at fault too. I'm just worried just afraid that we would end up moving along and there's no way back.

a blue Christmas...

I guess in a way, I chose this... to spend Christmas alone in a faraway place. It was not a last minute foiling of my own Christmas. I probably already knew that this would be a difficult day to face... Christmas without you. Does it make it easier that I'm faraway? I guess I didn't give myself that choice.

How are you spending your Christmas? I remember each Christmas how I would have my annual Christmas dinner gatherings with friends, family and we would cook up a feast. Or rather I would cook up a feast, how I would plan the Christmas menu beforehand each year, how I would end up spending quite a bit of money and it would be difficult to collect money from anyone. I guess as the host invites, and the host wants to make it a nice party for everyone, its the host's decision on what to prepare and how much to prepare. Its a yearly dilemma that I now no longer worry about. Nonetheless, the whole process of creating new dishes I've never tried before, figuring out how to make the feast of the year a memorable one, sourcing for ingredients, getting friends and family to help out in the cooking process, its a time of year for loved ones to bond and have fun together, rekindle love and catch up on times with loved ones we so often have little time for in our day to day lives. I love big parties, big gatherings.

Inevitably, we somehow always end up arguing about TY and how close you are to him. How intimate you are with him physically during the party. I guess little things like leaning your head on his shoulders, putting your hands on his lap, sitting close beside him leaning over as opposed to sitting with me. I hate the way you make me feel like an outsider with the group. I no longer enjoy being with them anymore. Its a petty quarrel that I like to pick on you for but its something you never understand and always do repeatedly and it irritates the hell out of me. It doesn't really matter, but for the irritation, I just like to pick a fight for the sake of it. I guess we don't have to quarrel about that now.

I remember a very different Christmas too, in Tokyo. Where we walked Ginza... and after what seemed like a pretty mundane day like every other day in Tokyo, we tried to find a bar where we could chill and do the countdown, watch the fireworks etc. It was funny how when all stores were closed and I refused to go back to the apartment. We got our drinks, in a tall place... after having probably like ten tako pachi balls, Starbucks coffee and I couldn't remember what else we had for dinner. The fireworks almost felt like a myth, being so distant from where we were. We took the train back, and back in the apartment we played cards before deciding its time for bed. A very different Christmas spent without the huge party crowd, but a very heartwarming one as well just because you were there.

I don't feel sorry for myself that I'll be alone this year, in the hotel room on Christmas or Christmas eve. Because everywhere I go, I end up thinking of you. I'd rather be alone than to pretend to smile with friends around while feeling this emptiness and loneliness inside me. Simply said, yes, I guess I chose to escape Christmas. Improbable but somehow, I wish you are having a good time, receiving lots of love and warmth during this time.

Merry Christmas to you...

Do you understand the irony?

There are things that can be told and there are things that one has to realize by themselves. I say a lot but tell nothing, an introvert by nature, not by choice, and extrovert by choice and by training, yet only superficially.

I agree to a few things that you said. “Our love is the constant.” It constantly exists admist all the issues that we have explore and the problems and challenges that we have been through. However, it is not to be taken for granted. Perhaps this notion called love became too much of an excuse for the both of us. We assumed it as being constant and forget to be patient, to tolerate, to forgive, to trust , to not be easily angered, to communicate, to be thankful, and to be sorry. I have thought about it a lot and feel that very often your pride takes precedence. During these couple of months, I was hoping to know how you think, how you feel, not how you would argue, not how you would justify love, not how you would justify for us to try because in our arguments, there was no longer logic. You felt that I was arguing based on logic and using my head to lock up my heart. But I was not. During our first major breakup I cited four major issues that pushed me away from you and one of them was a very self-centric view of us. I wonder that after all this time and you thought about our problems, you mentioned about communication, respect, and understanding. Was it for you or for me? I guess you asked me for a bit more understanding thereafter. My faith in being able to have a happy relationship with you has been broken and my fear is that of a broken family and marriage in the future. I feel you trying to get us back. When you argue and reason with me, I pull away. I missed you and missed the tenderness but I pull away each time you try to talk and reason with me. Love is not about reason. It’s not about telling, it’s about showing. We spent some time together, happy times together even after our separation. Happy times chatting on msn and during your birthday dinner. I enjoyed that and missed having you telling me stuff about your work etc. I missed your bubbly demeanors. Yet at the end of it, the same old phrases came up again, “I can’t do this anymore”, “This is it”, “What’s the point”, “Is this your stand?” They push me away once again. While you are adept with communicating with people, connecting with people, being likeable and sociable and being understanding with various friends in and outside of work, somehow, when it comes to me, you seemed pretty clueless. And I am left alone, to figure and decide on my own what I want before coming back to you. We have taken “love” as a constant and taken it for granted that we forgot that if one gets lost, we need to help each other along even if it means exploring it and finding our directions all over again.

It is heartbreakingly ironical that you mentioned many people take a whole lifetime to know each other yet that should not stop two persons from trying to want to be together. My parents are like that and I find it heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. My dad is not a difficult person to understand, but neither is he easy. For my mom, he is often a mystery of which during his mood swings and all, she chooses to ignore him and let him be. It does not always work. He actually needs someone to listen to him, to ask him what is wrong, to tell him it’s all going to be ok even if he does not know how to articulate his insecurities or rationalize his emotions. Maybe in certain ways, I am like him. In others, perhaps a side of you still thinks my state and decision is a childish temporary ridicule. If you ever think or feel that way, even an ounce, it’s still your pride talking and it is stopping you from reaching out to me, from understanding me. You tried to logically put your argument and perspective of my actions, so you could brand me for cheating on you, and you feel that all my feedback how I felt and all were insults to you. That is because of pride. I don’t know how to speak to your pride because love does not work that way. I’m not blame free, perhaps I am too as I do have pride as well. But on the topic of communication, there are things I can tell and there are things you have to realize yourself. After all these, do you feel that I am just trying to rationalize things again from another of my unlimited angles? Or are you starting to understand? Like I said, some things can’t be told. If you cannot accept or feel anger, sadness, disappointment, it is because of pride and you have yet to let it go. I know, because I am like that too. It is when I get defensive and argumentative. It helps me understand why pride is the original sin. Re-read this when you are less angry and defensive, perhaps you might understand and see it from a different light by then.

If you feel that I choose to remain silent, expecting people to know what I am thinking or because I do not like people to know what I am thinking, my reply to you would be, this I wish you could understand me and reach out to me even when I am silent, I wish you could touch me with tenderness not just physically but spiritually and emotionally, I wish you could help me articulate what I can’t because I am handicapped, I wish not to hide anything from you but there are things I may not be able to tell you and I hope you forgive me for it, I wish that we would not have “hard talks” because I do not want to argue with you but rather you would understand what I have to say because you know me. I feel that we are so far away from all that I wish. Christmas is coming, so last but not least I wish you a Merry Christmas!

The winds of change and the sands of time

I wonder as time goes by... if you slowly getting used to life without me... weekends without me. As the winds of change blows the sands of time, will our memories of each other fade... as new people enter our lives, as new events occur, as life bringsus to new places, will we no longer remember each other's faces, names, existence? Will we be nothing more than just a distant memory or perhaps even that may fade to nothingness... I wish I could see you being happy once again, even if its just from a distance... and may you never know about my bleeding heart that still beats for you. May I never stop feeling this pain, as this is all I am willing and able to keep of you. Have mercy on me the winds and the sands...

Flashes of memories... things I remember about her

This is not a love story

Roughly three years ago, I started writing about something very different. About a story of myself, and hopefully then, a story of her, how we met, how we loved and how we were going to live happily ever after together. Yet things have changed, I have changed, and maybe she hasn’t or maybe not enough. It was not her fault that we are now breaking up again. I have not been totally honest, and I probably never will be. Yet regretfully, I am afraid this might be some sort of finality.

She has been right in many ways, yet for some reason, I refused to acknowledge or give her credit for it. Despite everything, she’s right about our love being the constant. As time fades my memories, as I seek to hide my consciousness of her existence or the existence of “us” ever being, I begin forgetting her, forgetting our hope and vision for a future together, forgetting how we started or how we ended, forgetting what we quarreled about, forgetting why we are breaking up once again. Yet, I could not pretend that I do not love her, or that the love never existed or that I stopped loving her. This is about how I remembered our love, remembered her, and how I would want to remember it for the years to come.

Towards the end of our relationship, we argued about our view points, me insisting that we are fundamentally not right for each other, and her insisting that we should work it out and claim that I have changed. I asked her to think about what she was looking for in a spouse, convinced that I was not that kind of person since she always had a million and one things she didn’t like about me, my character, my lifestyle, my habits, my choices, the way I do things or handle situations. Truth be told, at one point of time, I was not sure that she liked anything about me at all despite loving me. Contradictory? Maybe, but I felt that I had to change to become a totally different person for her to be satisfied and complain-free about our relationship. I wondered if we should change so much to be with a person and I started wondering how she has changed so much just to be with me. Perhaps we just weren’t right for each other. She refused to define her ideal spouse and I was convinced that she did not want to do it because she knew deep down that I was not going to be that man and she just wanted to argue everyway to get our relationship back on track. Anyway, she eventually did in her blog after putting a lot of thought through it. In return, I was supposed to focus on the love and future as opposed to filling my head and heart with the negative aspects of our relationship. Yet, it is easier said than done. It really doesn’t matter who’s right and who’s not now. As she has done so, so am I, remembering the good times, remembering our relationship and the things we will grow to miss, the things we held dear in our hearts. This is not a story of love and happy endings, nor should it be a story of tragedy and heartbreaks. These are just things about her revealed only to me, a side of her that only I know, that grew accustomed to, that I grew to love, and a side that will soon become so strange and distant to me that I may no longer know if it’s a side that I will be missing or imagined to have been.


Silly little antics

She misses me dearly, or at least she used to. Dramatically when she sees me or haven’t seen me for a long time, she'll jump up on me when I hug her and wrap her legs around my waist, usually in private spaces such as my room or her home... She'll run up to me in her small steps with a VERY cheeky smile/grin so I know exactly what she's up to... She always has the same cheeky look whenever she's trying to pull off something naughty... Guess that's why I always call her 小坏蛋... Even Alyssa has that same cheeky grin…

I was just looking through the screen capture photos from all the Skype video calls we had when we she was in Japan… So silly yet sweet the way we tried to watch movies together via streaming videos in two remote locations, having virtual hugs with our arms stretching out in front of the camera... It almost seemed kiddy and childish, but that's the best alternative we had… Trying to constantly take compromising screen captures of each other when the other is changing clothes etc…

She screams at the slightest trigger of adrenaline rush… Going over a hump while traveling at 0.5km per hour on the in-line skates... Taking the roller coaster and with her eyes tightly shut, whenever a car drives slightly closer to us or switches lanes without signaling. I've NEVER had ANYONE screaming while I'm driving... And now she's jumping off a plane, skydiving... I actually wonder if I have the guts to do it…

We both love the same kind of music, the nice slow jazz and one of her favourite albums is from Rod Stewart. An old blues "Every Time We Say Goodbye" from Ella Fitzgerald became so romantic when he gave his twist on it... We used to hug and have slow dances to that song in my room under the soft dim lights... And in her Japan apartment, knowing that my visits and trips were stolen time and it will be soon that I had to leave...

It had become such a routine, Saturday lunch at her parents place, dinner at my parents place... Spending time with each other's families attending such gatherings together that it feels more like a marriage then we're dating. Such has become the mundane routine we spend each weekend that nothing exciting happens anymore as we both try to fulfill the obligation of spending time with our families. Watching her nieces every weekend, watching them grow up... There's a kind of stability and comfort, a kind of routine I know that awaited for me each weekend.

I remember how she'll drag me to Orchard road, Haji lane etc. to shop... How she knows I detest shopping, the crowd and actually spending money excessively. I've been nagging at her about saving, financial planning, a big thing for me, and I guess it has never really been a thing for her. Not until she met me... Anyway back to shopping, her favourite salad shop in Haji Lane, Zara, H&M, Uniqlo, Far East... She would zoom in and out of these shops in 10mins to scan the latest collection so I don't have to wait too long, and I would always end up at some cafe, sushi place etc. to break the monotony and momentum of shop hopping.

She would then accompany me to fish shops, plant nurseries and buy orchids etc. learn about the fishes and plants just because I like them even though she is totally clueless about them. I remembered the Tanganyikan goby cichlid she bought for me, a very cute fish I had been eyeing for a long time but felt it was too expensive. She bought it for me just because she knew I would like it. It was our favourite fish in the tank and she would stare at it to make sure its eating well…

She was so excited and so proud of iFly, the building and office and seeing her being worn out physically and emotionally by the work I just can't bring myself to feel very supportive or enthusiastic about it. Nonetheless, I wanted to give her a fish tank, a nicely done up tank with cute fishes to accompany her during her long hours in office. We quarreled over it as she expected me to do everything and as if it was something I forced upon her. Details of the argument, I no longer remembered... We eventually bought the tank, set up the filtration, added the plants and bought the fishes... It was a beautiful tank and she loved it. I guess she was always just a little impatient and she always takes it out on me.

That reminded me of the time she quarreled with me in Ikea Tokyo, it was crowded and she probably didn't know what she wanted to purchase, she forgot her home address and could not get them to deliver. We knew that only after she left the apartment and she was upset about it but could not blame anyone but herself. We arrived at Ikea and I began choosing furniture pieces and all, comparing prices, she was impatient and could not understand why we could not just get anything and just spend money to get things settled. I didn't like that mindset, spending money to solve anything was a very frivolous way of handling problems and not everything can be solved with money. The rental was already high as it is and she was trying to get an accommodation for at least a year. To me, it made sense to get a bigger place unfurnished and get cheap furniture rather than to have a small service apartment, though furnished but at a much higher rental. I guess, I always rely on my excel spreadsheets to calculate and manage my finances and expenditures while she spends on impulse, something which changed over time. Her impatience and unhappiness at Ikea got her thinking of a lot of things and we almost broke up after that, everything despite me carrying all the furniture that I could, despite me only trying to help and get her a comfortable living space while she was there. As a guy, I guess this would be my role anyway and I wouldn't expect her to know how to fix up furniture and all. Nonetheless, I felt taken for granted, unappreciated, and felt how petty, volatile and unstable her emotions was. At that point, I felt a great sense of disbelief that we could ever discuss and make larger decisions together and perhaps it would be difficult to spend my life in marriage with someone as uncompromising, self-centred, impatient, impulsive, and emotionally volatile as her. Ultimately, when the apartment was set up, I cooked our first meal, we had a nice bed to sleep in and she felt bliss being able to come "home" to our place in Japan. It all felt worthwhile.

There were so many quarrels, so many ridiculous things we argued about that all took a toll on our relationship, on me and my love for her. Despite all that, she was right... our love was the constant that remains. As time passes, as anger, and disappointment fades, I no longer know or remembered why I wanted to break up with her. I only know that I love her. She is a very emotional person, someone who loses her temper so easily. A part of me understands this as part and parcel of every relationship, another part of me wonders why I have to allow myself to go through this. I have enough problems in my life, enough things to worry about at work that I just want to find solace and peace at home and with my spouse. I couldn't find that in her and often she aggravates things. Her words often spew out irresponsibly and were occasionally harsh. Unfortunately, I am not the most punctual guy in the world, not for appointments, not for dates, not even for work. Yet her family and father is a real stickler for punctuality. Often I am 10-15 mins late for lunch with her parents and she would be really pissed off at me. This doesn't end well because the Saturday family lunch was typically the beginning of our weekend together. Such quarrels spoil the whole weekend and I often wonder if I want to meet someone huffing and puffing and waiting for an apology from me for the Sunday. Awkward silences plagued our Sundays, both unyielding parties keeping our pride and anger, shrouding any love or tenderness we yearn from each other. I remembered how this could become the basis of her claiming that I am the most unreliable person on earth and she cannot imagine being together with someone this unreliable, if we ever get married and have kids, I would probably end up forgetting about picking up my own kids. Those thoughts probably spiraled downwards to considering a breakup with me even though she did not articulate them. Actually many other incidents probably resulted in these thoughts for her and each time I only respond in silence. Was this our curse in communication, her temper and my pride?

She loves my belly… I had been trying to lose weight, to no avail, not very disciplined albeit, ever since I returned from Philly. Having six packs is probably something every guy aspires towards but she loves my belly. She love rubbing it and loves to make fun of me. But she loved me and loved my belly. In our younger years, we would never imagine a belly to be an attractive asset, it probably isn't still, but love makes up for everything. I probably would not imagine her finding a belly of a random guy to be attractive.

She's not that great in the kitchen, which is why I usually do the cooking in Japan on top of the fact that she has to work then and I was on holiday. She did attempt to prepare herbal chicken once, doused heavily with sake enough to get me half drunk. It was really nice though.. She prepared clues and hidden messages, all around the apartment so I would feel welcome when I arrived. I was supposed to arrive in the afternoon when she would most probably still be working and the clues were supposed to be my surprise but due to unforeseen delays, I arrived in Tokyo, the apartment with ready-made piping hot herbal chicken and dinner. I heard she tried to replicate that 'success' in the UK with the iFly folks and almost burnt down the house. To give her credit, that was the best herbal chicken I've tried so far.

I have brought her to some expensive places but not often. She probably wines and dines more with other people than me. However, I do cook up a feast for her during special occasions, Valentine's Day, her Birthday etc. Ambitious or kiasu, I always end up preparing too much, squid ink pasta, salad, pan seared chicken filet, wagyu beef steak, soup etc. and she would always finish it all just to show her appreciation. She's gained some weight over time, not a lot, but I'll take some of the blame.

I never really thought of her to be hot or sexy or gorgeous. She's probably the most plain looking of the girls I have dated. In my mind I always fancied tall girls with nice straight hair, large eyes, dimples, sharp nose, high cheek bones, curvy but slim body, nice shoulders and long legs... Well... You get the idea. Pretty normal I would guess for most guys to fancy such girls. Realistically, I know that was hardly possible, and physical beauty is only skin deep. She was nothing like what I fantasized about, but I loved her with all my heart. She would complain that I never told her she was pretty or beautiful. I guess I never really did so. But I often called her cute. She was really adorable in many ways especially how she looks in her nerdy glasses, how she would shake her butt occasionally as a naughty sign of victory, almost taunting me to spank her, her naughty and cheeky grin... These are things that melt my heart, made me want to pinch her cheeks, kiss her repeatedly, and hold her tight.

She is probably the most panicky or 'gan cheong' person I know, losing her cool, composure over the smallest things. The worst is how irritated she gets and how she can't stand my composure. When trouble or screw ups arises, my taking a step back to look at the situation, exploring options and proposing solutions to her drives her crazy. She just needed a listening ear to complain to and blow her top. If the issue involved me, I would typically get the blame really bad. I really don't know if things never ever go wrong in her world, the way I hear about her work, it happens every day. Sometimes I wonder why I should be the only one suffering her wrath. Nonetheless, I love her and wondered how she would expect her dad to handle such situations.

She was a daddy's girl. In her household her dad's words were like the imperial verdict. But more than that, she adored and worshiped her dad. Her impatience, attention to detail which also turns to nitpicking was probably a result of her upbringing. She's constantly worried about displeasing her dad and trusts and has total faith in her dad's way of life, of making decisions, of doing things. It would be really beautiful if my daughter one day could view me that way and hold me in such high regard as well. Her father was a respectable man, and a proud man with good reason to be. He worked as a sales representative in his younger days and traveled to many places in the multi-national pharmaceutical company. A people's person, he was well-liked and made many friends of which he still keeps in close contact with today. He would reminisce of those days and relate his story to me, a story which she probably heard a million times while growing up. Her father did well in the pharmaceutical company and it came to a point where he got too senior and it was up or out. He would have to leave Singapore though if he were to accept the promotion, a difficult decision as it would cause a lot of disruption to the family. He eventually chose to leave the company and started his own business. It must have been tough. Margaret, his wife, was a housewife and he was the sole breadwinner for a family of three children. Nonetheless, he worked hard, worked late and his apparel business did well. He earned big accounts and made more friends, treated his employees fairly and was a well-respected boss. In the meantime, they upgraded the house and saw his children grow up, planned for their future, invested in trust funds for them so they would have a good head start in life with little to worry about financially. Financial crisis hit Singapore, and a lot of his key clients including Yaohan, closed down. Beyond losing just big accounts and the potential for future revenue, many of his clients defaulted on payment. Unwilling to take matters to court, he relied on persistence, persuasion, and a belief in the goodwill he has generated over the years to get back partial payments. He eventually had to wind up and liquidate the company, a process which took a couple of years. I must imagine how devastating it must be for him at that point. But he was a strong man, a principled man, and he knew the family depended on him. Fortunately, with the savings and investments over the years, he was able to sustain his children's education and his own retirement. By then they were about to graduate and he could at least feel comforted that he provided them a comfortable home and environment to grow up in. He loved telling me his stories, and I would listen, trying to understand how he viewed me, how she adored and respected him. He loved football and watched almost every match. He also likes to watch old Hong Kong movies, and swims at the club almost every day. A form of discipline I wished I had. He is probably the most consistent person I've known in terms of his lifestyle, especially for a retiree... In so many ways, I feel like the exact opposite of him, probably the reason why sometimes it irks her.

She is not exactly the most easy-going person I’ve known, and many little things irritate her and frustrate her. She would have her complains, ramble about things that does not make sense, and put on a face that shows all her emotions, go all quiet and ignore me. Pride, logic or whatever it might be leads me to play the whole silence game, refusing to apologise or admit my mistake as very often, I do not feel or believe myself to be at fault, probably as a result of my own defensiveness and tendency to find excuses for things that go wrong as well. However, I always feel that it’s no big deal and they are just small issues that she kicks a big fuss out of. We get into arguments all the time, big and small arguments on small things. We used to get so hurt and affected by these arguments but as time passes, I realized this was just part of how our relationship was going to be. Many of these arguments now turn into things we know we argue for the sake of it and we joke about it. It is funny how friends try to stop us from arguing thinking it’s something serious when we are just joking around. I guess many couples argue over salt and pepper issues in life and that is just part of a relationship. Yet somehow, I also wished that we could be a lot less argumentative. To say that they no longer matter and no longer affect me is probably a lie. Somehow it leads me to believe that there are fundamental issues in our beliefs, values, personalities, or communication styles that led to all the senseless quarrels, and perhaps that is why I feel that perhaps despite the love that is so strong, perhaps it will be a very difficult relationship that may end up with each other in greater hurt. Perhaps despite it all, we are not really suitable for each other. I wish things were different. And perhaps I am wrong.

She must have some disease or something, because every time she comes to my place, my room gets littered with her falling hair. It is amazing how much hair can fall in one day. I never had that issue with mine. Perhaps I do not see it as much since my hair is short and it does not amount to as much as hers. Each time she spends the night as my place, I have to gather the hair from around the room the next day. I am fairly certain that if we live together, she will grow bald in a year. Somehow seeing strands of her hair on my pillow gives me a strange sense of comfort that she is somehow with me.

Every time I have a nice wonderful shower with a strong blast of water I think of the shower at her parents place. It was a lot stronger compared to the trickling pathetic shower I have at home. It was something she always complained about and I acknowledged, something which I had wanted to fix froa very long time but never got around to really doing it despite paying the store multiple visits to figure out what’s wrong, if it is the tap or the shower heater box itself or the pipes that are clogged. There was a time when I really wanted to fix up a new heater box so we could have nice proper showers at my place. This was when we were planning for her to stay over at my place more often and perhaps even kind of partially move in with me. My grandmother’s room had been vacant for a long time. Ever since she could no longer take care of herself, she shifted to my uncle’s place where he hired a maid to take care of her and the household chores. The possibility of having a larger room for us with an attached bathroom excited me so much that I downloaded Google Sketchup, lost nights of sleep so I could design the interior of the room and plan to renovate the whole room, get the walls repainted and setup new furniture. Given the amount of clothes she and I had, we probably would not have enough space for a wardrobe that could be big enough. Nonetheless, I still wanted to squeeze in a fish tank for the room. Despite my enthusiasm, she did not display much excitement and somehow that fire that I had inside me fizzled off as well. We face problems as her father did not approve of her staying over at my place and moving in with me was going to be a big impossibility. Each time she stayed at my place, she came up with excuses about working late, staying over at Sentosa while working etc. It was a dream that never could have happened right from the start. Similarly to how we set up the apartment in Japan, I thought that being able to decorate the room together could be a project we both could enjoy. This was at least something we could do until we could afford a flat or apartment together. To be able to afford that, we would of course need to save up. We did up excel sheets and savings plans and targets. We talked about having joint accounts to put our monthly savings together. I could use some for investments and hopefully could grow our nest eggs as we continued accumulating our assets. For one reason or another, the savings plan always got delayed. After some time, I no longer talked about it. I guess there was a lot of talk and plans about moving ahead in our relationship, but somehow, we never really did.

Every couple develops their own unique language phrases or habits with each other, be it giving each other pet names, or having private jokes or terms of which only the couple understands the specific meaning or context. For her and I, we had a few of those. Some were create by me. In a very tyrannical way, I prefer it that she tells me she loves me first, so all I have to say is, “I love you too.” It’s a rhetoric kind of assumption but somehow I’d rather deliver reciprocity than the possibility of a one-sided proclamation of affection. So, in a sort of non-serious or playful way I used to “command” her to “Say you love me”. So that I can tell her I love her too. It became a phrase that we both use so freely that I guess it must sound quite ridiculous to anyone else. At times she would ignore me and reply me, “Don’t want”. I would conveniently ignore her reply and just tell her, “Never mind, I love you too.” She would give me a disapproving stare once a while on how assuming I must be, but honestly, I know she loves me. When she was in Japan, we used to tell each other how much we miss each other and how much we love each other. But for her, it was a competition. If I “love” her and she loves me “very much”, it would be considered as inequity. So I have to tell her that I love her “very very much”. If came to a point where I would tell her I love her “very very very very very very very very very much!” You get the idea. It seems silly and yet I miss that. Actually we probably have not said that for quite a while now. Whenever we say that to each other, I feel loved and appreciated and know that she is happy just to have me with her or in her life. I will still want to remember that the way she and I would say that and top it off with a loud kiss on the lips. I miss her.

Universal Studios Singapore official opening (May 2011)

Congratulations Universal Studios Singapore on your Grand Official Opening. It was a great party though the weather could have been cooler, but such is our sunny Singapore. Also a very warm thank you to the guests of honour and foreign celebrities,Paula Abdul, Jet Li, Maggie Cheung, Vicki Zhao, etc. who have far travelled to grace the event with your presence. Not forgetting our local stars as well including Denise Keller, Adrian Pang, Michelle Chia, and especially our dear Dawn Yeoh and Sheila Sim who mingled amonst us in the warm humid weather. It was a wonderful party, congratulations once again.

I was a little unprepared and only had my camera phone with me, hence the poor picture quality. (Sorry Dawn for the blurry photo, it really doesn't do you justice.) But nonetheless, thought I'd share some highlights...

For more professionally taken photos of the event... Please follow this link.

Ministerial pay review?

Seems like there is some recognition for a need to review the ministerial salaries to appease the public sentiments of the apparently very high salaries by of the Singapore ministers. I have always professed that Singapore has one of the "lowest" corruption rates around the world largely because there is no need to do so. Our ministers are among the top-notch of the carefully selected "white horses" amongst the "old boys network" and are handsomely promised a stable career with revolving portfolios if deemded necessary. There seems too much at stake to risk and perhaps the rewards are already built in anyway.

With regards to the salary review? I'm a little skeptical about this...

http://sg.news.yahoo.com/blogs/singaporescene/ministerial-salaries-effective-21-may-2011-113043431.html

I'm convinced that one way or the other, their nett package may not change too much. Its just about re-structuring it so it seems more "acceptable" and justifiable, giving us less visibility into where the additional income sources may stem from. Anyway, what was promised wasonlya "salary" review, of which the salary could be only part of the overall income.

In any case, if they can justify their deserving rights to the pay I have not much qualms. I am more concerned about other issues particularly cost of living and long term competitiveness of the country's economy, especially how they intend to continue driving growth taking into consideration the welfare of the people.

Growth has its costs if not managed well. As the "almighty" they obviously know that their role is not as a charitable organisation, but it should not be a soley profit-driven corporation as well. We've came a long way the past half a century... what should be our direction for the next half a century? I'm sure if they can promise, quantify, and deliver, pay structures will no longer be an issue to be contested. But that stands to be proven isn't it? No point adjusting ministers' pay just to shut our mouths up when nothing else changes.

They should recognise that the people's dissent stems from our inability to comprehend such high rewards when they have failed to address various needs and critical issues, made grave financial shortfalls, yet maintaining their nonchalant, adamant, and arrogant stance. Sure, they managed to hit certain selectively chosen KPIs for their reporting and news reporting purposes and covered the others by being real hush hush. But taking a look across the population, take some time to listen to the people's voices. Does those numbers reflect what is happening on the ground? Perhaps it is once again a very good marketing campaign to keep foreign investors happy, something the government has been very good at thus far.

Anyway, enough of my rambling...

My point to the "new" government is this:

instead of

I'm sure if they can justify their pay well and convince the people of their justifications, we wouldn't be here today to discuss about this. Food for thought moving forward...

I am not a blogger

I would never claim myself to be a blogger. Especially since the last time I posted anything on blogspot was probably years ago. Ever since the first appearance of blogs, the hype of the web 2.0 and the introduction of "new media" threatening to replace traditional news media and change the business model or the way people view the world through social media, my world hasn't changed much.

With a couple of "old" friends setting up our so called" resistance force" against the adoption of Facebook when we were all flabbergasted by the immense speed of adoption by the people around us, it is scary for us "infidels" and possibly equally exciting for the folks within the network, though I suspect in the beginning they were busier trying to bite or poke each other and their adopted human pets.

Close to half a decade has passed since then. WOW!!! And the world hasn't changed too much for me. Not yet at least. I'm still not on Facebook despite having watched The Social Network. Yet, it is hard to deny the impact of the virtual and social media on our lives. While not tweeting or blogging regularly, I am a frequent visitor of an online hobbyist forum for fishkeeping. Amassing a heap of information and resources, the forum provided an avenue for learning and sharing among hobbyists. But not just that, it also serves as an excellent tool for PR and marketing.

In the past half a year, the posts by myself and another individual on the forum saved an almost bankrupt company. By writing reviews, posting available stocklists, taking pictures and showcasing the company's goods, we generated interest for the company. From a little known fish shop in the east side of the island, the shop now has visitors travelling all the way from Woodlands. It is no doubt that online presence has become a necessary evil these days, and managing your online presence is no longer a just hobby or something you do during your free time but rather, potentially a proper full-time job.

With the emergence of online PR firms, social media tracking companies, the reputation of companies online has become an issue important enough to keep track, important enough to even affect election results. This post today is in essence to recognise and congratulate a special company that had the foresight to capitalise on this, Brandtology. I shall not elaborate too much on the company since I'm not their PR firm but would just like to congratulate them on the deal and salute them for putting Singapore on the map for the IT and technology community worldwide.

Random pictures taken this Sunday while wandering in town with my iPod touch

malicious words

Its amazing the damage words can bring... and with blogs ever the more we should be more careful with the kind of words people, or companies spread about us. Or for that matter, what we sa about others. While blogs and non-reviewed publications like forums etc. allow for freedom of expression, one should also not abuse it and discretion should be taken when reading information form such sources. Especially since it may not be verified.

Unfortunately, there are individuals or companies which irresponsibly engage such tactics to injure or attempt to distort the reputation of others. While we cannot stop such expressions of opinions or skewed representations, we should always keep a watchful eye so we may be prepared to react to comments about such posts. Should such comments take to the extremity of defamation, we should also be ready to stand up for our rights as opposed to accepting such slander. Singapore is not afraid to engage legal means to protect its own interests.

Anyway, this post is in response to certain individuals who have attempted to spread malicious blogs about our company. My only response to them is that their act has been rather childish and unprofessional. I believe we have been rather gracious and tolerant towards their multiple attempts to injure us. We value your freedom of expression and speech, but then again, please grow up.