Limbo Away

I don't know what's going on, but I seem to be having mixed feelings about movies. Still trying to make sense of the thoughts that are running through my head.

Army's good. BMT is fun. Passed my 2.4km run. Really glad about that. Gonna pass out soon in 2 more weeks. Don't know where I'm going to be posted to. PES B2L3 status' people have very limited vocations. Signalers, drivers and some other shit. I don't get to make the decisions, so fuck it.

Sang the song for Ronnie's birthday. Nearly became a total disaster. Wait, scratch that. WAS a total disaster. I can't forgive myself. It was supposed to be a sweet gesture to a friend that matters a lot, but I was nervous and she looked... Well, she seemed... impatient and frustrated.. She said the treasure hunt (N and I sent her on a quest in a mall to look for clues to lead to me) drained her. Felt really bad about it. There's always next year anyway. Provided that she and I don't die due to some freak accident. Whatever, Xingyou.

Was looking at some travel website. Feel like going on a holiday on my own. No family or friends. No influences. Just me losing myself in a different culture and going on a wild, no holds-barred adventure.

Just found out I'm quite interested in dance stuff. The Step Up movies, Ronnie and N, Singin' In The Rain... Something awoke inside me. Something that had never came out since that night in Tokyo many years ago, where I did a poor imitation of hip-hop dance or some kinda dance in front of those Japanese teenagers. I suck at dancing, but you know that feeling when you're able to move like Jagger? Oh yeah... That's a good feeling, indeed.

That Sassy Cat

Before I start:

Here we are. The month of October. About 4 months after Graduation, half a year since I attended school. I haven't blogged in a while. Of course, many things had happened since graduation. The short film, working at OpenRice, then working at Infinite Frameworks and going to Cambodia... Just some of things I've been occupying myself while I wait for my army enlistment.

Here with me today is a story I'd like to recount. I call it the Sassy Cat Conundrum. It's already resolved, but I think the journey is worth mentioning.

So this Cat. I was in love with her for many months. She is the most interesting being I've ever been with. She's full of life, intellectual and witty. As for physical features, her brown eyes attracts me the most. She's tiny. Her face is pleasant. Looks about like any cats you see out there, but I think her beauty is underrated. Maybe because I had been spending time with her, so I got to witness the whole package of this feline. She makes a wonderful companion.

But Sassy Cat did not wanna settle down with me. She likes me, she likes my company, but settling down is not right for us, she purrs. She'd only liked for us to be awesome friends. So, after struggling with my emotions for a bit, I growled "yeah, okay." So those lovey-dovey feelings had to be let go. Given up. It wasn't easy, of course. But I succeeded... sort of.

The months that follow after the news broke and the feelings almost gone, there were still the Leftovers. These are the thoughts that feed and sustain the core emotion towards Sassy Cat. Small in quantity but still as detrimental, like a virus seeding my mind.

I'd figure, perhaps just behaving normal around her, I will soon get used to this new settlement in my heart. It worked in beginning, but subconscious Leftovers don't just fade away. Instead they grew fonder, to which I had to stop these wistful thoughts via mental force. Plus, those stories about her adventures outside didn't help. It wasn't jealousy, it was pain. Like there's a tiny spot inside me that got poked, and I went like "Ow, what was that?"

Time passed on. I was also occupied with other things, but I never stopped communicating with her. Spending time with Sassy Cat and her flashmob posse made it easier for me to sink into my new mindset. But ultimately, knowing there's a problem, plus it's lingering, and hoping it'll disappear, isn't enough. 'Knowing' is recognizing the issue but not doing anything about it.

The movies helped a bit. I mean, afterall, she wasn't my partner. She was just a Cat I really liked. Some cat, she is, ya know. I'll spare the fantasy details, but I really thought we could be intimate and be happy together... Be like those other couples out there in the streets. And the ones in the movies too...

Then I realized, some time ago, that's the area that blinded my progress. My blind spot, if you will.

These thoughts are the evidence of a manic-obsessive, self-absorbed, egoistic arse. The Cat ain't gonna play by my fantasy rules! Ron's so much more than that shell of a person I call Sassy Cat. If I keep harping on the idea that our relationship will be wonderful, wouldn't I be disrespecting her volition silently? What kind of friend does that?! So this singular thought of me being the evil mastermind overrode Leftovers (or something)...

And I'm glad I spent time with Ronnie! Because I was beginning to see what would have went wrong for the both of us. She has qualities that I don't like and vice versa. But genuine friends accept each other as they are, albeit with bits of complaint here and there... Let alone love partners and family members.

Also, I can't stress this enough that it's never her fault that I finally stopped liking her. All her imperfections make her perfect in her own way. It's just that I've come to realize she isn't the right fit for me. But who's to say what will happen in the future, ya know? I dare not predict, like how I used to. Not just with Ron, but also with my other friends. But as of now, I'm so fucking happy that, after all that drama, she stuck by me closely and always, as cheesy as it sounds, will be in my heart.

So yeah, if I have to pick the most memorable, best friend from poly, Ron would be it, considering the shit that we've gone through together... Mostly 'cause of me -.-

Love you, buddy=)

(The length of this post kinda does not do justice to what I've learnt from this experience. Kinda leads to another thing I want to talk about, which is Dating. But I'll leave that for another time.)

Whatever, man

This one last month of "freedom" is moving at an excruciating slow pace. Especially when you realize your planned activities are being neglected and pushed aside to make time to enjoy non-stimulating ones like TV, music and surfing the net.

At least I did some stretching workout this morning. The ones that N and Ron taught me. Splitting my legs and things like that. Now I'm able to land both my feet, albeit shakey, and palms on the ground (by bending over), while keeping my legs straight. I wasn't able to do that in Cambodia, when N first demonstrated to me.

Umm... What else is there?

Oh yeah. Began making my own salad for breakfast. Bought enough ingredients to last me a week. It's pretty amazing though, though this health regime will shatter once I enter the army. Ha, what am I saying? There isn't one to begin with.

Am now just taking a short break (funny how I was asleep on the ground before blogging) before I head out to help a friend shoot his drum cover of Phoenix's Girlfriend. He said some big shot, Leonard Soosay of Snakeweed Studios, will be there. Who is he? I have no idea. Except he has a Wikipedia page. I mean, aside from notion "Because you're on Wikipedia, you're famous blah blah blah", I read up on this guy's profile... And I'm a little terrified, to be honest. Me, an amateur videographer... The guy worked with many local artists and even overseas ones.

Whatever, I'm just rambling.

I wanted to blog anyway, but this is the most exciting thing that's gonna happen. For now.

When's the hiking trip, dammit.

I'll just end this post with this:

September Blues

Think I may have been making wrong decisions my whole life. And when I made them, I endured long months of suffering and confusion, and I still refuse to accept I'm wrong.

Don't know if I'm ready to accept my mistakes and start a new chapter. Start anew and look for absolute happiness, instead of temporary ones.

I'm a total hoarder. I display my "trophies" proudly on my shelves and sweep my failures under my rug.

It's time to face them head on in October.

"First time I got punched in the face, I was like "Oh no!" But then I was like, "This is a story." - Troy Barnes, NBC's Community.

This is a story indeedy...

Pitstop

"The one you marry will never be the one you love the most." - Kevin Ang Wei Ming, 29, a single individual of no particular interest to anyone, except to those who knows him.

Yeah I suppose so. But I guess it's for the best.

Then again, I'm young. Relationship definitions change as I grow.

I predict that the next girl that'll matter will happen in the next 3-4 years' time.

But doesn't mean I won't forget about that friendship. Maybe I will. But I won't let that happen.

Bit SpareTime

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0L__LYpHG8

This is how I feel my transcribing life is like right now. Instead of pots and pans and rubber gloves as distractions, there is absolutely no other mental disturbances in my head. Just words after words coming out of these women, and just mechanically typing all of it down into a word document.

Feels like running a darn mental marathon and I'm nearly there... I need a book, a novel. I need a physical activity (Cross out sex. Been acting out my work frustration through sex. It's not good, I think.)  I need to do something creative. Playing the piano, compose a little sexy tune. Whatever you know.

This office is like a metaphor of me being cooped in a confined space with little things to spare for me to play. I don't think this is very healthy for my mind. I am a raven that needs to be let out, not caged. I won't miss transcribing when I'm done. I miss going out on shoots and sweating gallons of impure liquid. I miss writing. A lot. Now there's no fancy phrase going through my head.

There's nothing of value to influence my creativity capacity. Well, I can argue that listening to these girls talk actually gave me things to think about. Like the way they behave and shit. What is right and what is wrong. What are their motivations and how far they're willing to go just to win some beauty contest. And the list goes on. Manipulative minxes... Pfft.

Anyway, thinking of going overseas to study. A plan is slowly forming. The plan for my future, once I'm done with NS. Singapore's not a good place to do film, I feel. I need to meet more different people from overseas. Here, people are working themselves to death and it's a harsh industry here. I mean that's what I kind of infer. No one's really working for the artform. They just want to meet the profit margin and get by life. Not risky enough, not enough budget, not much room for improvement in the creativity department.

But I've seen some creative stuff. Nice things that shoved one side to make space for mainstream things. Like music videos. Singapore independent bands' music videos are interesting to watch. I really do hope the local music industry does thrive well.

Wifey, Mother & All That Stuff That Comes Along...

Was out with N the other day. Saw a guy wearing matching shirt and shorts of a particular light blue colour. I had no problem with the shirt, just that his shorts was a bit distracting. A little too short for my taste and looked pretty... *shudders* Yah, so...

Didn't hesitate a second to tell N what I saw. I honestly thought she would laugh and agree with me. Instead, I was given a lecture about criticizing people. Then I shot her that look. Because she does it sometimes to people, including me. N just laughed and said "Yah, it took me a second to realize... But it's different. I do it because it's helping them to change. You do it with the intention to criticize."

Yup, that's right. She's right...

I need N in my life. Can't lose this siaocharbor laopo. But...

On another note, my maid told me today it's been 3 weeks since my quarrel with my mom and we still haven't spoken to each other. I don't think it has been that long. Or has work diminished my sense of time, because, as far as I remember, I thought it was a week ago.

She called me fat, and I said I'd kill her in her sleep, as a joke, but the vehement feeling still lingers. Okay get this, I don't care if friends or colleagues call me fat, but coming from my own mother, that's just not okay. Plus, she always annoys me with her negativity.

Yah, I get it, you're 60, you have diabetes, high blood pressure and you're still working. But that's not the example you should set for your children and also, you're affecting all of us. And I've tried to persuade her to be more positive. I told her things like "Hey Ma, today's vegetables the maid cooked are nice, have some," And she would say a straight no and continue eating her pizza. Or whatever she brought home. She ignores the healthy food and goes straight for the junk food. No fish, no meat, no veggie, only salted veggie/egg with porridge. She doesn't even drink the soup, that is occasionally nice.

I want to love her but I just wish she was a little more nicer with her words and be a more of a role model to her children. Sometimes children see the worst in their parents and they make promises to themselves to never be like them in the future. But now I'm behaving like her, stubborn, childish and petty.

This is just absurd la. I need to talk to Vanessa soon.

Funny thing is I never met Vanessa for a long time, but she gives excellent perspectives and advices.

I need to stop typing. I was typing a few things that I don't like, then I backtracked.

Issues everywhere. How I can deal with them? I don't know if I can do this...

Pre-Cognitive Dream Sate

When you spend an inordinate amount of time in isolation, your mind tends to navigate through your insecurities, yours strengths, subtle fleeting moments in relationships, things you've done right or wrong. Then you see a man dressed as Batman swinging his arm repeatedly at another person. With sharp-ended cones attached to his knuckles.

That's gotta hurt.

Degree of Acceptance and Forgiveness

I got abandoned at a bookshop by a close friend.

Asked her if she could stay a little longer, because I haven't checked out the Magazine section, but she just told me to stay and she wanted to go off. Of course I was pissed!

What kind of person walks out on a friend on an outing? Couldn't she wait a while I check out if there's any movie magazines on sale? Just a teensy weeny while?

And she just walked off, like she doesn't mind offending me. What?!

Then I realize this is a test, not created by anyone, presented in front of me in a form of a situation. A test of my loyalty, valor and tolerance for acceptance. A very tricky problem.

I know what I needed to do. So I told her off in a text message. I wrote in the message what she did wrong, but also letting her I forgive her. Yeah, sure, I was pissed, but I can't be pissed at her for long. N's somebody to me. For some unknown reason, I see her like she's a wise, yet a little erratic, younger sister. That's why I treat her all that food, movie tickets and stuff. And I know she'll be there when I need words of wisdom from a rational person. It's call doting on her.

And I do that to Ronnie too. But, you know, Ronnie's more special. Other than the fact I used to have a crush on her. We two kinda go a long way back...

ANYWAY, I digressed.

So having scolded her, I thought she might feel a little bad or anything, so I texted another saying "Sis/laopo(means Wife; it's an in joke), I will still dote on you."

Because I realized, a feeling like anger should never last longer than a day. What if I had died or something happened to her? I can't bear the thought that the last thing I said to her is that she made me upset if anything happened to any of us the next day. So I wanted her to know that I forgive her and she shouldn't be feeling any negative feeling about me telling her off, if she's feeling any. I don't know. I just want her to know I still care for her, no matter what happened.

And I blame myself for not able to be there for people I care about. I think.. Sometimes, I know how people are. I'm not gonna say I understand them. But I have trouble reciprocating to their emotions or lack thereof.

I wish I knew what to say... To make them feel better.

Life is really hard to navigate by...

Apprehension

I'm not in arrested development. I think I have grown and, if you will, changed. The thing I'm stuck in is called a rut. The lack of change in my environment is exacerbating my sanity.

Then devoting my time to listening to love encounters and experiences makes me long for one myself. Maybe that's why now I'm not going anywhere with my love life. Because I just want the experience, to be in one, let it grow sweet and then rot, so I can have the pleasure and exclaim "Yes! I'm in one!" But no, that shouldn't be the way.

I respect Love and relationships a lot. If I can treat my family and close friends with love, commitment and respect, I don't see why I would fail at a relationship. Because, if there's a girl in my life, I would do anything for her. Yes, I would grumble and stuff at other things, but I am willing to learn from my mistakes, open up a little, loosen up and treat her like the Queen she is to my King status. Because, relationships go both ways. As the saying goes, it takes both hands to clap. No shit, you don't say.

I just haven't met the right one yet. She is out there somewhere. And we're both young, insane and not in love yet.

She could be anyone.

Was just mumbling lyrics just now and got some kind of realization...

"Was it you who spoke the words, that things would happen but not to me. Oh things are gonna happen naturally~"

Yala yala. Jason Mraz. Ain't he a genius word wizard?

Things will happen naturally. Just ain't my moment yet.

Chillz out, everybodaeee. Gotta live it up, keep learning and stop worrying=)

Zombie Tales

3 weeks ago, I attended a fantasy writing class hosted by the Budding Writers' League with a bunch of young people. We were handed an assignment to write an urban fantasy story and each of us had to write a chapter. So the 15 of us came up with a zombie story (typical) in Singapore about a reporter coming across a conspiracy so huge that the minute it as revealed to the public, there was a civil war between the sentient zombies and government.

Actually I'm not too sure about the civil war part. The story was published and all of us has a copy, but I didn't read it. Got bored. Well, conspiracy storyline is just too derivative from movies and other books... But here's my chapter! The unedited version! My chapter was edited by this lady writer called Stephanie, but I haven't got my edited version back from Max, one of the organizers. So forgive me for any mistakes or long-windedness.

I present to you: The Zombie Conspiracies: Chapter 2

-----

Light in the office had finally turned to a shade of orange and Peter knew it was time to leave this dirthole. Another wasted day, he thought as he threw away the memo. No scoops came in, no articles went out. Damn, Micky's gonna be pissed.

Earlier that day at the editorial meeting, Peter sat there with folded arms and listened to his colleagues pitching in their stories to Micky, the senior editor. His eyes were fixated on whoever was speaking, but his mind was miles away from the table discussions. When it was his turn to contribute a story, he sat up and opened his mouth, but no words came out. The silence stifled the room, as all eyes were on Peter. He looked around at the many vacant faces of his colleagues, cleared his throat and raised his head to Micky, who was standing at the front of the long table.

“I have nothing to use,” claimed Peter. He thought he might have caught Micky's face muscle twitched a bit.

“You know, we have potential stories lined up for the new millennium and we need capable writers-”

“Mick, guys,” he addressed the whole room of journalists. “You know me. I don't do lifestyle stories.”

“We need capable writers, and-”

“And you have them.”

“We just need you to start writing again.”

Micky had just struck Peter reality with his words. He kept quiet and had a quick flashback in his mind.

When was the last time I submitted an article? Was it last week? Three weeks ago?

He blinked, realizing he had indeed hit the dry season of his successful journalism career.

After the meeting, he went straight back to his office and spent a long time admiring the streets below outside his large window. The low rumbles of vehicle engines and random street noises filled the void of the proletariat, as they walked to their destinations. All that movement but nothing was going on. Where are the scandalous bastards when you need them?

Peter’s research on potential political dirt came up nil and his reliable sources hadn't phoned up with anything substantial. Even with the regular dosage of coffee into his system every hour did not help much to keep his sanity in. He was fighting a losing battle without the proper gear and equipment. Micky had even left him a memo through his secretary, stating: “If you don’t produce anything by tomorrow’s meeting, I will have to let you go.”

He chucked a few pieces of papers of no importance into his black briefcase and headed out into the corridor. He made a quick turn around the corner and dashed for the closing doors of the empty elevator. Now Peter really felt that he was descending into Hell.

--------------

The walk back home was an uncomfortable one. Peter could have taken a bus home, but he wanted to be alone and not surrounded by crowds with body odour and botched perfume smells. His apartment, now just a few blocks down the road, was located in the heartlands of Tiong Bahru.

Peter had always loved Tiong Bahru. He always saw the area as a forgotten relic in Singapore’s history. The worn-down, 15-storeys HDB flats surrounded the central area, which mainly consists of the Tiong Bahru Mall and other smaller establishments. And under these residential blocks housed coffeeshops, which were usually patronized by collective groups of people who had nothing much to do. After three years in hectic offices of Straits Times and meeting deadlines, Peter had grown to appreciate the slow and simple life and found comfort in his neighbourhood.

The hunger pangs had started to go off, but Peter was not in any mood to eat anything. He was too deep in his thoughts, pondering about the possibilities of his future when he loses his rice bowl tomorrow. At the same time, the fragrance of the dozens of dishes from the nearby coffeeshops incited his hunger even more.

A terrible, high-pitched scream came out of nowhere and shattered the evening’s silence. Peter looked around, frantically sourcing the sound. He knew it belonged to a woman. The scream attacked again, this time it was more of a cry rather than a scream. For some reason, he was genuinely excited. It sounded like a murder was taking place.

His journalistic instincts kicked in. He took out his Dictaphone and bolted in the direction of the scream. While running, he checked the battery on his recording device.

Peter need not be reminded of the “Nathan Incident” earlier that year, in which he forgot to hit the “Record” button when he was doing an interview with the newly elected President. He breathed a sigh or relief when the President told him they had a transcriber on the spot and he was willing to provide the transcript for his article.

Peter came to a halt at the dark alleyway. He could not make anything out of the darkness at first. He breathed heavily and wiped his moist forehead. As his vision became clearer with his pupils growing accustomed to the darkness, he could not believe the situation that was taking place in front of him.

Two men wrapped in large pieces of dirty cloths were squatting near a bleeding middle-aged woman. She was seen sitting in her own blood with her back against the wall. The creatures continued their sickening gnawing and failed to notice that they had a “visitor”. The woman seemed almost dead, but she had felt Peter’s presence and turned her head around slowly. Their eyes connected for a moment, his gripped with terror and hers with imminent death.

The woman slowly raised her arm towards him and he could have sworn she mouthed the words “Help me.” One of the men saw her pleading face and spun his head to see who she was looking at. Peter’s face lost its color once he saw the grotesque façade of decaying flesh and blood looking back at him. Its mouth dripping with menace and blood that was not its own.

No, it can’t be zombies. Cannibals, perhaps?

Journalism would have to wait. A human life was at stake and there was no one else nearby to help her. He brought his briefcase up with both hands and charged towards the deformed creatures. The cannibals stood up and roared in indistinguishable, animalistic voices.

Peter swung his briefcase to the nearest to him across its head. The brute impact threw it off balance and it fell on its back. The other one growled in retaliation and attempted to strike Peter’s face with a backhand slap, but he had brought his briefcase up just in time to block its attack. He gritted his teeth and struggled to keep the briefcase between him and the monster pining him against the wall.

Peter then looked down and glanced an opening between the creature’s legs. Without any hesitation, he decided to give it a try and shot his right leg upwards. There was a loud squishing thud. The creature howled in pain, followed by an English swear word and grabbed its own crotch.

What the hell? These things can talk?!

The first creature Peter attacked jumped on him. In the midst, he had dropped his briefcase and he was now lying on the floor, desperately pushing the snappy face away from his. From this distance, he could barely make out the shape of the disgusting facial features. It looked like something that his nightmare would manifest from his darkest fantasies.

Several voices from afar shouted things like “Hey! Is anybody hurt? What’s going on? Where are you?” Both Peter and the creature looked to the voices’ direction. Peter began to shout and struggle, but the creature went straight for his neck and squeezed it.

Peter felt his windpipes being crushed by sticky sausages. His blurry view of the world was now being slowly engulfed by the darkness in his eyes.

“Leave him! The humans are reaching. We can’t have two dead bodies.”

“He saw our faces!”

“No one will believe him! They’ll see the woman’s one and assume he did it.”

“Screw it, let’s go. The treaty’s ending anyway.”

Peter choked back to life and broke into violent coughs. His vision still blurred, but at least he could make out that the creative was standing over him, smirking. He felt his head jerked to the right and a searing pain on his left cheek began to intensify.

“That’s for kicking me in the balls,”

“Come on, we gotta go!”

And with that, the creature disappeared from view. he quickly got up on his feet and checked the woman’s pulse. Yup, she’s definitely gone.

Peter picked up his briefcase and ran away from the voices that were getting nearer, for he had only enough time to escape from the manslaughter crime scene. The creatures were right, though. Which seemed more like a logical situation: A cannibalism ritual conducted by two bloody, deformed monsters? Or a psycho journalist with a penchant for hardcore crime news stories? He did not stay to find out the answer.

Instead, Peter decided quickly to follow them into the darkness of the alley. He was not trying to be brave. His instincts had kicked in again: Follow the leads at all costs. He followed the bloody, mushed footsteps and with each step, there was lesser and lesser blood. Please let me strike the gold pot before it disappears.

The footsteps only ended when it reached the main streets of Tiong Bahru Road. Passer-bys were staring at him as if he was a zombie, because of his disheveled and insane, yet vacuous, expression. He gave a sweeping view around, for any signs that these creatures would try to blend in. No dirty cloths in sight, no blood on any bodies.

As Peter began to calm down from his near-death experience (every scoop he had was a near-death experience anyway), he realized something was amiss with his arm. His left forearm felt a tad lighter and weird. He turned his arm around and saw teeth marks on them. His eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. He did not remember getting bit in that bloody fight. He looked up and saw society moving, as though nothing had happened.

What the Hell are you?

Insane Me

Okay the gist of this blog post is I have indulging in self-communication through various acts of personality impersonations.

I couldn't sleep at all. Too much energy, too many thoughts, too many insecurities that everything just burst out on the bedroom floor. Impersonating Gollum and Jim Carrey in self-deprecating insults at myself, and smiling with a wolfish grin while spouting lines in loud, dramatic voices, coupled with grand gestures like kneeling and crawling all over. Hell, you should just give me an award right now. Performing in my room like there's an audience for my self-destruction journey to Lunacy Land. Man, I'm brilliant.

I'm so amazingly bad at expressing my inner struggles to lead a normal life. Bad at writing, bad at dancing, bad at developing characters, bad at understanding people, bad at singing... I don't have any good qualities. All I do is observe, imitate and recreate a poorly-constructed pastiche of what I understand of Life.

While everybody's maturing into their own, I am still in arrested development. Why can't I get out of this phase!

Why can't I understand?

And I haven't found that someone to help me. I don't think I ever will.

Seriously, fuck BGR la. Companionship is overrated.

(No it's not! Give yourself time!)

Fuck you! Shut the fuck up!

(Wait for it, you'll be fine...)

Seriously, Me, you need to get your head right. What kind of girl will like a guy like me?

(Stop being insane then!)

I can't help it! It's in my gene!

(It's not! I've seen you in your charming moments)

What charming moments?! It's fucking creepy!

(NOW, IT'S FREAKING CREEPY!)

'COURSE IT IS. YOU'RE TALKING TO YOURSELF.

(THIS IS GETTING ANNOYING, MY FRIEND.)

Why can't you be normal?!

(BECAUSE,

This is who we are. An ambitious young lad with an eye for design and precision, and you are in abundance of flaws. You crave for company, understanding, perfection, and you seek love. You can't expect everyone to understand you. You can only wish for people to accept you. And you have a family who loves you. Your friends? You know Andrew still loves you. N does too. And Ron, that one girl you always end up pissing her off, but you guys are still close mates. You are awesome, believe that. Believe in yourself. Be kinder to yourself.)

...

..

.

This is nuts.

TV Recap: Community

I suppose I'm making a change to column writing when I'm blogging about this, but I'm going to try make this short and sweet.

For those who don't know me well enough, let me just begin with this: I love dissecting movies to the nitty-gritty. Especially good ones. Nothing gives me more comfort when I'm trying to figure out what are the elements that make great entertainment. So my knowledge on movie genres and pop culture is exceptionally wide and is still expanding.

So, lately, I've been obsessing over a U.S. TV sitcom called Community.

Aired on NBC channel in 2009, it's about a group of 7 students, from a variety of cultures and ethnicities, putting aside their differences to form a study group at a fictional Greendale Community College. And while attending school there, they face a lot of absurd and epic adventures that change their lives forever.

Spanning over just 3 seasons, this TV show is one of the finest television scripting I've come across, besides Arrested Development and Spaced, just to name a few.

The pilot episode introduces these characters as stereotypes of their ethnicity and ages, like all TV shows do. You have the once-popular jock, the plump African-American Christian housewife, the obnoxious former-lawyer, an incompetent old man, the studious young girl etc.

As Season 1 progresses, their backstories are revealed, layer by layer in each subsequent episode, and it all adds up to give a unique touch to each character. One particular episode that hit a stride with me was Introduction to Film Studies in early Season 1.

Abed Nadir, a Polish Pakistani, is known for his autistic and naive behaviour. He sees everything as movies and stories, and this makes it difficult for him to have friends he can mingle with. In this episode, Abed is denied by his father to study a film course at Greendale. His friend, Britta, who is all about defying authorities in exchange for freedom of speech, offers Abed money to study what he loves. Jeff, his other friend, thinks it's a bad idea, as he feels Britta should not get involved in other people's lives. With Britta's money, Abed records everything that he sees, including a quarrel between Britta and his father. And at the climax, he shows his finished work to these three people. It's a short film about Abed.

Inside the film, Abed acknowledges he is weird and believes he is the reason why his mother left the family. And his father, having lost his wife, doesn't know what to do with the son. He only wants what's best for his son and even tries to force Abed into the Falafel family business. Britta and Jeff's conversations in it represents what Abed thinks of his parents' exchanges. After watching his short film, his father tears up and tells him "It was never your fault Mom left,", to which Abed replied "You never had to say it," In just one moment, his father has a change of heart and allows his son to pursue what he loves.

Top LH: Nice homage to space excursion movies!
Top RH: Psychotic Ben Chang, played by Ken Jeong
Bottom LH: Annie pointing a gun at Jeff for deceiving her.
Bottom RH: Pierce (old man) and Troy (young dude)

And this was when I realized Community was not any normal sitcom. The story and message is poignantly and sincerely told. It's grounded in harsh reality and yet it manages to tug my heartstrings whenever a character comes to a revelation. It's a lovely comedy! It's so weird that it's perfect. Honestly, I've never seen a TV show explore characters' origin stories so in-depth and manages to corporate all of these elements into 20-minutes sitcoms every week.

Then, the comedic elements. It uses the characters and place them in situations that you'll never imagine. Any Community fan would say that the paintball episodes are brilliant. It's nothing you will ever see on TV. Just watching all your well-developed characters spouting hilarious one-liners and taking actions, according to their personalities, is delightful! And it all makes sense, somehow!

But Community is not just funny, it respects its fans a lot and rewards them with running gags and also being self-aware. Being self-aware is a rare element in TV Shows, because you don't want to refer to your genre (Sitcoms) too much that it becomes annoying. But they incorporate it into their story really well.

"Annie's a little young, we try not to sexualize her." - Jeff Winger

A Bottle Episode is an episode when a TV sitcom is trying to cut down the production costs by just secluding their characters in just one location. In this standout episode, Annie (the girl with control issues) traps the entire study group in the room when she finds out her pens are lost. Chaos ensues with people accusing one another of stealing her pens. The writers use the "Bottle episode" concept and added a story where all the characters go all out with their anger. I thought this was a really bold move and it succeeded!

Of course, credit must be given and it is given to its creator Dan Harmon and his creative and brave team of writers, consultants and executive producers. It is quite evident that all three seasons had an overall theme for each.

Season 1 - Spanish Class => Foreign strangers, who have no business with one another, coming together to learn a foreign language. This forces them to understand each other and become friends.

Season 2 - Anthropology => The study of humankind. The theme is about exploring the limits of friendships. Putting characters to the test and having epic situations happen, so they can change and accept each other for who they are.

Season 3 - Biology => The study of living organisms. In this season, Britta takes up Psychology and tries to understand her friends. Basically, this seasons takes a darker turn to explore characters' psyche and what makes them tick. Also, it delves into the thoughts of what characters think of each other and this leads to some really mature growth in my favourite characters.

After a really touching finale episode of Season 3, I thought to myself, "Wow, what a way to tie up loose ends and finish character arcs," These people are not perfect, but they have gone through enough to know that they're a study group that can survive any thing that Life throws at them.

The amazing Paintball episode!

It's a TV show you can watch again and again to catch up on little details and still laugh at its wisecracks. Sadly, Dan Harmon is not coming for Season 4 and most of the original writers had left. I am still going to watch it, but whatever happens later, I still can relish the touching moments in the thrilling trilogy season of Dan Harmon's Community.

Forgive me if my writing is kind of bad. I tried my best... =/

I'm On My Own

I love this song very much. Hot off the sophomore self-titled album, The Temper Trap. Awesome, inspiring stuff, people!

Lyrics:

Turning the ground
I once used to know
People are strangers
Same as before
Streets look familiar

I remember the part
Where I buried my head
So deep in my hands
All around me was dark

This here city
Has fall along with me once
Won’t find no angels
Selling back to the lost
This here ṗalace
Is too small for two
It took one to realize
When dreams make this hardest
Are not meant to come true

(Chorus)

So throw me a line
Somebody out there help me
I’m on my own
I’m on my own
Throw me a line
And I have come here
To win you again
With trembling hands

Passion delays
Looking over the buildings
Town seems to starve
While the millions keeṗ moving
Now here I am
I’m a drop in your ocean
Noise in the crowd
Pushing through your halls of reason

(Chorus)

Hear me now make me whole
Hear me now make me whole

(Chorus)

There goes the ending
It left me in the war
i tried everything here
I’m done with my part

Asian Cinema Rediscovered (Part 2)

Again, I came across this movie a few years back, but I thought Korean Cinema would be shite so I didn't watch it.

Who did the poster for this?! Terrible!

Then I saw the title mentioned in Park Chan-Wook's book, and it was drawing similarities to this movie, called "The Host". Bought the DVD I did. Watched it I did. Realized it is actually one of the most decent movies I've ever watched.

It's not perfect but in the areas it excel, it hits it out of the park!

GAWZIRRA GAWZIRRA! Oops wrong movie.

The Host is about a mutated monster in the river that terrorizes the capital of South Korea, and it captures a little girl from a middle-class family. In their desperate attempt to save her, the whole family rebels against authorities and tries to find the girl before it's too late.

A simple story and it is very well-acted. I don't know if it's the deal with Korean and Japanese films but they use a lot of black satirical humor.

Like in the mourning scene, they all come together to her temporary alter with blank expressions when they found out about the little girl's "death". Then they start breaking down, progressively hysterical. The next thing you know, they're on the ground kicking the hell out of each other, blaming each other for losing the girl.

It's so dramatic that you can laugh and yet, you feel their remorse. The icing on the cake to that scene is the group of photo journalists surrounding the crying family, snapping pictures of them. It's just a "WTF?!" moment. At the same time, you know it can happen in the real world. I thought the film-makers nailed that moment perfectly.

That is just to highlight the point that, this movie was NEVER about the monster. Unlike in movies like Godzilla or Cloverfield or any old school monster movie, film-makers tend to make a big deal out of its monsters. Whereas in "The Host", the mutated beast is a plot device to bring a dysfunctional family together. It's role is the secondary character, but it still lingers in the background as the main villain.

Happy Family Reunion, for now.

I like how the movie mixes the family drama and terror. It puts the family through troubling and horrific times, but seeing how each one of them arrives at the end of their character arcs is a pleasant finale feeling. It succeeds in making you root for them and damn it, it's a heartwarming movie, to be honest.

I think the movie had a social commentary vibe to it, peppered with some satirical humour throughout. Poor people struggling to make ends meet, a mutated monster created due to the neglect of ethics by U.S. scientists and also, a repressed government who don't tell the truth to their citizens. A bit of an authoritarian government, if you ask me.

Actor Song Kang-Ho is terrific in the bumbling father who seeks redemption as Park Gang-Doo

It wants to send a message and also entertain its audience. The only flaw is, the movie doesn't quite know what it wants to be. But you know, to heck with it. I don't want to read too much into its subliminal messages. I just want to be entertained by its story and fantastic actors. Hell yeah, I got what I want.

Rating:
Violence. NC-16 that's all, unlike Oldboy. That's gotta be a hardcore R.

P.S. These are not strictly reviews. Just thoughts on what I saw, what I liked and disliked. My first foray into Korean films...

The Host movie trailer:

Asian Cinema Rediscovered (Part 1)

(All this happened about 3 months ago...)

In my journey to expand my knowledge about films, I ventured into Asian cinema with advice from Roddie (My film buddy) and discovered a contemporary gem called "Oldboy", directed by Park Chan-Wook.

I have heard of this film when browsing through the internet forums a few years ago and many seem to like it a lot. Even the titular protagonist in my favourite TV show, "Chuck", has the movie poster hung up in his room. But I never actually wanted to watch it. Until now. Then I knew why film enthusiasts love it so much.

"Oldboy" is a South Korean drama adaptation based on a Japanese manga. It is about a man (Oh Dae Su) who has 5 days to find out the identity of the man who kidnapped and imprisoned him for 15 years and to exact his revenge.

I don't want to spoil anyone but everything about this film is amazing. Now that I think of it, it doesn't strictly follow a genre formula. The narrative just goes off the rails sometimes and you don't know what you're watching, but you're following the storyline intensely. It looks like a high-budget Hollywood film but it never becomes your conventional Hollywood fare.


There is a very distinctive voice in the film, as Oh Dae Su explains his intentions and actions through the use of voiceovers. And he is the narrator of the film. He anchors the whole film down and brings us through his pains, joy, lust, anger, self-discovery and eventually, his self-destruction.
It's a film that explores the psyche of a lonely, broken man on the path of revenge and it does it subtly.


And I have never seen a revenge movie that explores the characters' backstories so in-depth and such in a visually-visceral manner. And all of this culminates in the film's final scenes, which feature tour-de-force performances by Min Sik-Choi (Oh Dae Su) and Ji-Tae Yu (Oh's captor Lee Woo Jin). I just sat there in horror and with sadness, watching the final moments of the gut-wrenching exchange between them.

This happens at the beginning of the film.

And you know THIS is the mark of a great film, when you're so heavily invested in the characters that you actually feel the emotions running through them. And you don't try to think about what happens next, because you want to be led by the film-makers.

Then again, in Park Chan-Wook's autobiography, he mentioned that his intention was never to do merely a revenge flick, but a movie about a man who FAILS at exacting his revenge. Thus, this is what that sets "Oldboy" apart from other typical revenge movies. And Oh Dae Su's journey to the end, though depressing, gives audience of a glimpse of hope and redemption that Oh Dae Su might pull through.

On the technical side, this is a gritty-looking film with some fantasy elements. The sets in certain scenes are purposely chosen to suit the personality of the characters. The cinematography is gorgeous to look at and there are some shot movements that reflect the emotions of the characters, which I liked of course.

In conclusion, "Oldboy" is nothing I've ever seen, yet it feels so familiar in my heart. An unforgettable piece of modern cinema, that's what director Park Chan-Wook had created. A fantastic visionary, he is.

The note reads: There is somebody tapping on our conversations, please help us find the device.

Rating: R
Please be advised that violence and sex is present in the film. Some action scenes, sex scenes and some incestuous content. But that should not stop you from watching this if you're interested in watching a great story unfold by itself.

Update: Movie trailer!

Blue Bus

It was just like any other day after work. Except, today. One tiny detail about his journey home was different.

He rode the train as usual. He walked the usual path. He sang while he made little rhythmic steps to the songs in his head.

He doesn't know what inspired his next move. Maybe it was the police car that passed him by with the youths in it. Something about breaking the law.. Bending the rules or going against the authority. He wanted to have a taste of it.

As I did my double-takes while I crossed the forbidden path, an act known as jaywalking, I saw an oncoming huge, blue bus. It was slow but I know it was gaining momentum towards me.

I had this sudden image in my mind and my head was telling me this:

"Xing You, just picture yourself still standing on the road. And when the blue bus is about to hit you, you move away just in time. Are you a teeny bit curious to know how that feels?"

For a moment, I nearly stopped walking and wanted to just stand there. But my legs carried me forward. When I reached the other side of the road safely. I thought "Okay, dude. You just nearly had a near-death experience."

The rest of the journey was a quiet reflection, punctuated by Jason Mraz's songs in my ears. I'm not desperate for attention, I'm not suicidal. But there's just something about me that seems a little bit... off.

That's as far I'm going for tonight. I haven't quite collected all my thoughts because some parts of my brain are shut down due to fatigue.

Post-Poly Syndrome

Do I miss school?

Yes and no.

I miss paying for cheap food.

I miss hanging out with Ron. (TEP mini-adventures!)

I miss trying to rationalize people's strange behaviors.

I miss listening to Azhar's sarcastic jokes.

I miss working with like-minded people. Conflicts are fun. It breeds flexibility and expands thresholds for tolerance.

I miss XJ's lame jokes.

I miss Splash n Decker's sandwiches and mushroom soup.

I miss Ayin, Fin & Zaidah.

I miss having breakfasts in the morning with my clique.

I miss doing productions with Jon and Alistair. And my Newsbox crew too.

I miss my TEP locker. I pasted a cut-out picture of a supermodel clad in lingerie on it. It was awesome. Irked Jo. It was funny.

I miss tearing my lecture notes during exam periods. "... Eh fuck this. I'm gonna skip this part." -tears a bunch of paper into half- Then Jon told me how he threw his out of his house window. I guffawed for a good 5 seconds.

What I DON'T miss about school:

...

Actually, I have nothing against school. It was fun, exciting, frustrating, unbearable, painful, surprising, gleeful and so much more.

My only regret is that I didn't sign up for a CCA and commit to something bigger than myself. Always on about grades and afraid of screwing them up. I did well in my final GPA grade, but I had nothing else to offer in other aspects of my "well-rounded education" in NYP.

But I learnt a lot about people. And that's more than I can ask for. Trust me, there are a lot of what-you-call weirdos in my class.

Homosexuals, cynics, hypocrites, manipulators, divas. We are an unlikely bunch of people that CO-EXISTED as a class... And we SURVIVED! each other to pull through to the end of our polytechnic education.

I wrote this in my final TEP report:
"I've seen tears, smiles, frowns and other dramatic events I can't quite comprehend, but to be a part of this motley crew of misfits, including the lecturers themselves, it is an honour."

I know, I know.. It sounds really dramatic, but it's the truth, dammit!

Come next Monday, I'm going to be wearing a freakin' robe to go on stage to collect my diploma and my dad and elder sister are going.. Will be taking pictures and yada yada.

I just hope that the reader will pronounce my name right.

Complete Waste of Blogosphere

-Blinking cursor-

Okay, honestly, I haven't got a clue what I'm suppose to type about. Should I talk about my job? My job offer? The long SMS exchanges with a higher-evolved being?

Well, technically Vanessa has already gotten enlightenment. What she had told me, I understood some of it right away yet other things needed time to process. Were talking about friendship and love...

It's demoralizing and depressing to be alone. No, wait. It's demoralizing and depressing to be alone when you have other people you deeply care about.

I don't know. I never got the hang of detaching emotions from people. It's like a double-edged sword for me. I meant me being sentimental and having fucking empathy.

Blah, in no mood to continue.

See la! Rushing myself to blog.. And in the end, I get some half-assed effort of a post. It's a fucking horrible post. Grammar mistakes everywhere!

Apologies for having wasted your time, when you reach the end of it. You'll never get this 3 minutes of your life back.

Can't Walk Through Life Facing Backwards

Tune of the Week: Jason Mraz's Living In the Moment

Many meaningful sentences in this song. Just search the lyrics and relate to it. Might just change your perspective.

And I have a feeling I gotta blog something about my life real soon.

-shaking fists- "About time!!" - angry mob

Sheesh... Give the man some time.

Blind Leading the Blind

Tune of the Week: Keane's Disconnected

"I feel like I just don't know you anymore
I've been wrong and I've been there so many times
We walk in circles
The blind leading the blind
We've been disconnected somehow"



I particularly like this part of the lyrics. If you can look pass the horror movie mash-up music video and listen out for the lyrics, it's actually a pretty good break-up song. But whatever, I like Keane's songs... "Perfect Symmetry" album was shite though.

Luzuli

Tune of the week: Beach House's Lazuli

Discovered Beach House through my producer's recommendations. Fatimah and I bonded over similar music taste (sounds familiar, like with Zaidah) and she passed me a folder of artists. Sampling a few artists and I found Beach House's songs extremely comforting for sleep with.

Now, the new album's coming out. You bet I'll dow- I mean buy the album.

Korea Vlog One

Spent at least 6 hours editing this... Adding the words and pictures and stuff like that. Quite like the end product. Check it!

Presenting the Marvelous N and her bumbling-with-his-words-but-ever-dependable Constable Jake.

Currently, N is cutting the second one. Don't know when it will surface... Maybe I should work on the third one soon..

Cold Day In Hell

Okay, took like 3 minutes to figure out how this new layout works...

Tune of the Week: The Temper Trap's Rabbit Hole

I feel like I should say more stuff, but I've got nothing.

Oh wait. I am going to be screwed by MINDEF. Long story short... Nah, lazy to explain. Just keep fingers crossed and pray or whatever okay? This following Monday's events are either gonna make or break me.

Peace out, hermano and hermanna.

Dream Far, Asshole

So I'm back at this again.

What's new and original this time? There's nothing much to add. This TV show of my life has run dry of original ideas, I think.

I'm finally no longer pining for girls my age like a pathetic stalker. I've moved on... Decided that falling in love with a girl is messy and unnecessary and there are lots more to girls than just sex and fulfilling emotional voids. Fantasizing.. Now that's a different act all together. No pun intended.

Come to think of it, I'm pretty fortunate that, almost all the ex-crushes, my friendship with these girls are still intact and some are going pretty strong. Usually things like this end up in flame and forever live in infamy, but not mine. So 1-Up for me.

What else?

Made new friends through my friend's music project. His name is Ron/J'on River (Some kooky name he cooked up himself) and it's suppose to pronounce it as "Joan". Doesn't matter... What matters is I'm stepping out of my comfort zone and being myself around these people. I still have an awful lot of insecure thoughts in my head but they're slowly diminishing in impact. Which is a good thing! Come on, people! Say YAY with me! Yay!

I am becoming less like my brain and more like a person! People used to scare me a lot, but internship taught me a lot that I don't have to conform. People still like me as I am.

Oh! And what's the progress on the short film scripts I have been writing? Been quite terrible, to be honest. Trying so hard to find an original idea to work with. Female masturbation, a dark Santa Clause story, psychologists, a rooftop shoot-out... Don't get me started.

I like the dark Santa Clause story the best and have actually started writing it. Yeah, like the first two lines because I haven't been in the composition phase for a long time. The language isn't coming to me like how it used to. I can only now write in images and sequences in my brain.

Anyway, I'm not going to reveal anything about the plot but I can talk about its origin. It is a story that Jon and I came up with, while thinking of a lifestyle story to shoot. I have shared it with a few people and they all gave it thumbs up. So, I'm hoping to complete it before NS enlistment drags me away to Tekong and brainwash me into a hot-blooded patriot.

Writing scripts is really hard. But I've been going through some stories and realized that as much as I try, I don't believe in them. I need to use my heart and brain to write. Somehow the stories I want to tell, their source of inspiration comes from my own life.

Some comes from a dark side of my personality that I often see in my pre-dream state. Yes, this thingamajig on my head is hard at work even before slumber. My spiritual, annoying friend says this is bad for my health. Maybe so, but this is how I roll in my mattress.

But what I need to do is to filter through the pop culture, movies, TV shows and music in my wireless squishy to find the right amount to imagine and write. Too much of it just jams the thoughts process and actually kills the idea.

I'm going to stop right here.

Other things:
- Sent e-mails to production companies to get a job
- Helping my friend N-nie for her short film
- Edit J'on River's introduction video with my new buddy Dom
- Accidently sms-ed Azhar at 1AM to ask about my testimonial. He replied "And you have to check at 1AM on a Saturday?" or something to that effect.

Fin

Will Be Back

Haven't touch this un-operated space for a while. Think I'll be making a comeback soon. Things had been interesting. Just felt like coming back here after all that "fun" I had. Learnt a few things about myself that I can't wait to share.

Heh, what's new anyway, right?