catch-2253123

in retrospect, this incident actually came like a minor heart attack out of the blue; seemingly innocuous, potentially deadly, and over before you actually send out the smses for friends to visit at the hospital/wake. funny that it should take an incident such as this to make me more psyched up than ever for the new job, but better this charged up candour than the languid indifference merely a week ago.

i am set free.

the cat

as the moment draws closer, the veneer of apparent nonchalance melts away to reveal the quivering self, as the realisation of the stakes loom closer and closer until it takes up your entire field of vision and you can no longer avert your gaze, eyes transfixed by intoxicating fear. it is what i imagine the passengers of a crashing airplane go through in their final seconds, paralyzed by the fear of the impending impact yet refusing to close their eyes, if only to not miss seeing how it all ends. it is all i can do now, leaving it up to the will of God, because it is always in such times that i see how weak i really am.

i never liked coffee

first fyp, now this. getting really tired of the very real possibility of critical failure accompanying all the apparently major milestones coming my way these days, when i do not know whether to be ecstatic or horribly, mind-numbingly afraid. the real kicker, of course, is the silent acknowledgement that it ultimately boils down to my own doing. the flavour of humour these days is decidedly bitter, and blindingly dark.

addendum

ok, so wakeboarding is actually quite fun, even if your self-esteem takes a little hit when you take four times as many tries than other people to get the hang of it. of course, the real question is: since when was mfopd the wakeboarding kind? well, let's just say it vaguely involved minimum quotas, subsidised rates, and of course, The Office Crush. and, ummm menstrual cycles. but, laughably tragic irony aside, nice experience it was, though why normal rates should cost so much is beyond me.

it's embarassing really; started blogging four years ago because of a girl, and now it seems like round two. i realise that the previous post wasn't exactly accurate; i do not, in fact, feel desperate (operative word: yet). the loneliness extends beyond the confines of attached/single status, and can ostensibly be ameliorated by friends. that The Office Crush is having such a overtly huge sway over my present psyche is more due to the impression that it'll take a toto winner's luck to find another one, and the irrepressible belief, however unfounded it may be, that things would have blossomed in another parallel universe where we knew each other earlier. realities suck, but what-ifs kill.

but ok, let this be the last whinefest as far as the OC is concerned. there are other darker issues that i should attend to.

whineyard

1. within the arsenal of double-edged swords, hope must rank as the deadliest one of them all.

2. funny that after all those cautionary tales and my self-professed almost-embarassingly-fanboyish adulation of singapore dreaming, i still choose to go down this road. is it an instinctive aversion or a conditioned response? i really can't discern.

3. in between signing my life away, bidding farewell to fantastic colleagues, the nagging fear that i've bitten off far too much, and the tragic black humour of The Office Crush, i find myself suddenly, acutely, depressed.

4. nothing jacks up one's desperation counter than being immersed in an environment where almost everyone is married/attached, and i can now fully relate to the dull seething melancholy of being single at 35, especially when contrasted against the drab adult landscape, something which seems to be adopting a progressively darkening hue of terrible loneliness these days. it's almost ludicrous, as fucking juvenile as having a huge-ass crush on the girl sitting opposite just because you like her voice, this yearning for intimacy which your fevered mind promises to be your panacea, and you laugh a little. a shrill, staccato laugh replete with a slight shrug, as if you were watching a kid attempting to channel his imaginary x-men powers, until you realise you are the kid, and you suddenly cannot find it in yourself to laugh anymore. therein lies perhaps the most difficult -and tragic- parts of being adult.

crush and burn

alas, not a free electron. bummer.

event horizon

1. singapore dreaming - all, please, please go watch it. one of the most resonating films i've ever caught, though after the emotional high i do acknowledge that a large part is probably due to it's relevance to me at this focused point in time. almost similar to walking into sunday service and finding the sermon to be addressed to you specifically, only this time it is played out tangibly in the big screen, with unflinching honesty; i haven't felt such affinity since journey's end. some part of me in fact toys with the idea of getting my parents to go watch it, though that same part is rather apprehensive of rocking the boat a little too much.

2. so i've finally started work, and despite my misgivings on long-term development/pay/questionable hr policies, it has been a most effective anti-depressant. as again, been lucky to have colleagues nice enough to overlook my chronic social awkwardness (guess ben's book didn't help huh).

3. gotta. stop. coughing.

4. despite all the warning bells ringing my head, it does feel nice (in an almost sadistic way) to have something to look forward to when going to work in the morning, heart running a little faster as i pace through the good 'ol "should i talk to her" dilemma; it's like sec 3 all over again. shouldn't i be overaged for crushes?