Merry Christmas'11

To you dear reader,

Yes, you.. the one in Canada, the one in France, the one in Shah Alam, the one in Singapore, the one in KL, the one in the US, and the ones I really don't know where from...

Though I don't know you, though we no longer speak, though oceans separate us and though we remain strangers... I just want to say Thank You... and God Bless You and you family in this time of Christmas. You may not believe it, but I do think about some of you, and constantly wish you well.

You may or may not be a Christian, but know that God loves you.. and so do I. We forgive because we were first forgiven, we love because we were first loved.

Merry Christmas...

Best Regards
Me

New Blogger Layout

So after what feels like an eternity, blogger finally revised their layout.As in, COMPLETELY. I find myself fumbling over the new layout, trying to find where the new buttons are and how to navigate. First reaction - FINALLY! The old one was functional, but stale. I'm still trying to get use to it.

But if nothing but just for the sake of change, I'm happy with it. Which is funny, because I've been resisting moving to Tumblr or Wordpress or any other blogging platform because I didn't want the change. And suddenly, with a click of a button, change had come upon me regardless (albeit in a small way)

I think change is a funny thing. We want it but resist it at the same time. We long for it but also fear it.

I've met people who seem to embrace change so willingly. In fact, they even seem to live on it. They can't bear the thought of staying too long on one single thing. As if familiarity is something to be feared. People like that have always made me feel old. Because it's usually the old people who cannot embrace change. New music, new trends, new fashion, new technologies. I've always found myself digging prefering to dig into the past rather than anticipating the future. I like discovering old songs that sound good, I enjoy reading history, I enjoy seeing this that have a retro feel about them.  I enjoy recollecting and remembering how things unfold.

People always say living life is about moving forward. I think I do move forward, except I walk in reverse.

What can I say? I feel old.    

Season Greetings

To you my friend who is reading this:

Merry Christmas (belatedly)... and a happy new year ahead of you. Thank you for reading and sharing in my thoughts, fears and rants all these while.

I would never know who you are unless you decided to make yourself known to me, which some of you have.... and I am very grateful and thankful for that. It is a heart warming experience to receive care and concern from total strangers who find somehow still find it worth their time sharing and caring with a person they don't even know.... It gives me great hope and comfort in the goodness of humanity. So thank you from the bottom of my heart.

My wish for you -

may courage never leave you,
may laughter always find you,
may peace always settle in,
may friends always come,
may problems never stay,
may hope always be abound,
may faith always remain,
may love always grow,
may God bless you and keep you safe...

All the days of your life...


With Warmest Regards
Me

Bloggers Anonymous

I just discovered that I might just be suffering from blog addiction.

I came across this webpage.. that's trying to help people cure their addictions from blogging.. Kinda like an Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) support group but for bloggers.... who knew right?

I had to laugh out loud of course.... becuse the irony stood out to me immediately. A bunch of people are trying to help othesr kick their blogging addiction... and the first thing they do is set up a blog about it. Wait... what? That's like having an AA session in a liquour store, or a Quit Smoking Campaign in the smoking room. It just doesn't add up.

But it looks like it's serious stuff.. because it seems for some people.. they get so addicted to blogging.. it's starting to get in the way of them living their lives.. Ouch..

They came up with this list of 'symptoms' here for you to tell if you're addicted.. My asnwers are in blue

10. You check your blog stats a LOT. You occasionally get up in the middle of the night and sneak a peak.
YES.

9. Your significant other suspects you are having an affair with your blog. Even when you’re alone with your special person, you do find yourself thinking what your blog might be doing right then…
NO. But I do end up thinking about what to blog. 

8. You “mental blog” while driving or on the train, and sometimes even when you are alone in the shower.
YEEESSSS.... Thats practically where all the inspiration comes from.

7. You filter everything through your post-writing. You can’t watch a movie, see a play, read an article, or share a sweet moment with your child without thinking of whether it’s blog-worthy.
mmmm..... I'd have to say YES. 

6. You suffer from “blog envy” when another blogger posts something juicy before you do. You suffer “comment envy” when said post gets 40-something comments – the jerk!

No. But I do get temporary emotional highs whenever someone drops a comment. 

5. You “binge blog” 3 or 4 posts at once—only to feel guilty and empty afterward.
Sometimes. 

4. You ditched all your real friends for blog friends, because, well, “they understand.” You bypass Bowling Alone at the bookstore (who really cares?) while you reach for Naked Conversations.
Nope. But the real friends sometimes end up the inspirartion for the post

3. You think, “I can stop at any time.”
No. I think "Damn... I can't stop."

2. Your lunch hour has become your “blog hour.” You keep a few posts tucked in your desk in case you need them during the day.

It's much worse than that. I blog even when it's not lunch. LOL....

1. After 5 minutes of meeting someone really interesting you ask, “So - do you blog?”

No.

So I feel like it was a bit inconclusive. I still can't make up my mind if I am indeed addicted to blogging. I did a quick statistical check.. I've done 239 post in 54 weeks. That's about 4.426 post per week for the past 13 months. And in addition to that, I have around another 100 post or so in another blog that I keep elsewhere and 30 more in yet another blog somewhere out there. That's a total of about 369 posts. Which works out to about 6.89 blogs per week. And since there is only 7 days in  a week... this means that I have been blogging around 1 post per day every single day for the past year or so.

Numbers don't lie.


Yes, I am so addicted to blogging. (and this doesn't even include Facebook updates and Twitter posts)

...... damn.....

I'm wondering if this has progressively contributed to the degeneration of my social skills i.e. I am slowly turning into a social retard because of blogging. :-S

Bloggers Anonymous - I need to sign up man...

"Hi... my name's Compulsive Blogger...and I... have.. well... Compulsive Blogging Disorder... hence the name"

LOL............

Creativity? Me? Nah...

I was watching this video on TED



And what the speaker was talking about really strikes a chord with me. Especially the part about how some writer / poets / composers receive their inspirations in waves. That they can be in the middle of something totally unrelated, and all this creative inputs just suddenly come flooding in…. and all you can think of doing is grabbing a pen and writing it down before it’s lost forever.

I get that a lot…. Strangely it happens mostly when I’m driving… when I can’t possibly write it down.

The other thing she said was also about people involved in creative output then to be a little… well… a little loose in the head… meaning mentally unstable… and have this tendency to be manic depressive… Ouch..

Someone one said to me that I seem to have tendencies to go between to extremes emotionally..and I think that person had it spot on. I do find myself going back and forth between moments of total enlightenment and complete despair. But then I think to myself… “Wait a minute..she’s talking about people who have CREATIVE OUTPUT…..

I can’t paint, I can’t sketch, I can’t sing, I can’t compose, I can’t draw… I can’t do any of these so called ‘artsy’ stuff…. Heck, I’m a trained engineer thought to think about problems and provide solution in a systematic, logical, effective and sensible manner. Not exactly a melting pot of creativity in my line of work. I’m not creative… AT ALL. Creative people think out of the box…. I’m the guy who actually draws the freaking boxes…

So it’s either I’m actually doing something totally not inline to my natural inclinations… or you are reading the words of one seriosuly seriously misguided engineer... 

Tensions Within

**********

I’m an idealist. But I have hidden my ideals deep deep down inside. I have come to this stage where I can control who I am, what I do, how I behave and what I believe, but I can’t change the world. That’s not my destiny. I can change ME, I can influence the people around me (to a certain extent) but I’m never going to be a Martin Luther King preaching ‘I have a dream’ to the masses. Neither do I want to.

And about those things I write… ya well… believe it or not, I am almost embarrassed about the things I write. I feel it’s ‘lou tou’, or old fashion. In this age of Youtube videos & interactive multimedia, I don’t think people appreciate the written word quite as much as they used to. I think I’m a relic from the past.

**********

But I sense that you are no longer an idealist. You’ve given up on the world. You’ve resigned. But I also see that it is through your writings and your so called ‘poems’ that you allow your ideas and believes to surface and exist. It’s almost like you have a split personality. There is a tension in you – between what you believe and how you think things should be.

But I’d urge you to not stop questioning, thinking and asking – even if some people tell you not too. Too many people just go through life without really thinking about the bigger things in life at all.

As for your writing, don’t stop. Writers and poets ARE a dying breed which is all the more reason you should continue. Plus, I don’t know of any other engineers who think or write the way you do. Most are pretty boring. Except you… you make for a one of a kind engineer.

**********

Hiatus (I've Always Wanted to Say That)

I think I experienced some sort of emotional meltdown last week.

Maybe it was just work stress, or maybe I was just feeling particularly lonely and vulnerable, maybe it was the lack of exercise, maybe it was the sheer amount of things I need to do before the wedding, or maybe it was just everything of the above. But whatever it was, I knew I was in a bad place. Everything seemed to come crashing down on me, I felt down and broken, my heart felt like it was splattered all over the floor, and I didn’t feel like picking myself up at all.

But as I write this, I can safely say that I’m feeling slightly better (for now at least). Sunday evening walks around the park never fail to sooth me.

I’m an introverted person. I think a lot. I’m one of those retrospective and inward looking people. I have always been a self-examining guy. Wasn’t it Socrates who said that “An unexamined life is not worth living”? It is with this belief that I often do most of my writing. As you can know by now, everything I write is mostly about me confronting my own emotions, feelings etc. That’s why the my blog title reads as such, that honestly is where ‘the journey to finding one’s self beings….’

But writing is taxing. It takes a lot out of you whenever you write something personal. Often times, when you write something personal, even if it’s just a short sentence, you end up reliving entire sequences of past events right in your head. To pen down your deepest and most intimate thoughts means you first have to bring it to the surface. And that can be quite a painful thing. That’s also why I sometimes write about things only long after they have happened.

In that sense, my own thoughts have become my own worst enemy. In my attempts to confront and write down the things hidden in my heart, perhaps I have dwelled too much and dived too deep into the inner parts of myself that I have become lost in it. Pains that were experienced in the past suddenly become pains of the present again. Regrets spring up all over again and you and suddenly you find yourself being haunted by ghost not in the form of spirits, but of memories, emotions and moments. They stay with you and refuse to leave.

For this reason and a few others, I think I need to go easy on the writing for a while. I need to take the back seat and sort out my head and my heart. For all these years, writing has been my refuge. But this time, it may be counter-productive for me. I’m not saying I’m going to stop. I don’t think I will ever stop. Just that I’m taking deliberate and affirmative action to slow down. A hiatus if you will. I don’t know if this makes any sense to you, but I hope you do understand. I need to be out there living life and not just writing about it. Otherwise, all I will end up having to write about is how I sit in front of the computer writing about life... which isn't any sort of life at all.

And there are like what…3 of you out there? :-S

It’s not exactly going to be a catastrophe of the blogging world if I stopped writing.

In the meantime, I’m still here. You are more than welcomed to email me if you want to at thecompulsiveblogger@gmail.com …. for whatever reason at all. I doubt anyone will actually take up that offer, but it’d be nice to have a dialogue instead of a monologue for a change.

Otherwise, do hang around… because as the iconic phrase goes: I’ll be back….

God bless you……..

The Anonymous Blogger

I’ve been toying with the idea of starting another blog. One that’s a bit more public. One where I can share the things I write with the people closest to me.

You see, I’ve managed for the past few years to keep my writing / blogging activities completely anonymous and unknown especially to the peoples closest to me. I did this for a few reasons.

#1 I treated blogging purely as an outlet to rant and vent… mostly about the people and things closest to me.
#2 I am fully convinced that I write terribly about a lot of long winded crap and am just too shy to share it.
#3 I don’t actually have anything of interest to say to people… or at least I don’t think they would be.

After all this while of writing, I still think my writing is not quite up to par especially when compared to so many awesome bloggers / writers out there. Some writers write in such concise but profound ways that it just cuts right through to the heart of the matter. Other writers write with such passion, vividness and eloquence that it sounds more like poetry than prose. Every time I read their words, I am thrilled and awed, yet completely intimidated at the same time. 

But having faithfully and consistently stuck to blogging for so long, I have sort grown to love the act of writing. I find satisfaction in it… joy even - to take a thought or idea in my head and string it together into words and sentences. I suspect it’s a joy all self confessed writers eventually find. When I realized that writing means a lot more to me now that when I first started, my first inclination was to share it with those closest to me. I think that’s a natural human tendency – to share the things that are precious to us with the ones precious to us. But a few things have been holding me back.

Terrified – of overexposure

With me at least, writing takes a lot out of you. When you write something, you are essentially sharing a part of yourself. And I know only know one way of writing – and that is writing from the heart. I’m afraid that I will end up sharing too much with too many people. I don’t think I’m daring enough to bare my heart for the general public. I think sharing publicly what are in essence private thoughts and feelings takes a lot of guts. I really respect those who do so.

Terrified – of rejection

A secret comfort I have in writing anonymously is that I have no fear of rejection simply because I have no expectations. People who don’t like it simply move on. Those who do, stay. I don’t know the statistics.. but I know ignorance is bliss in this case. I think a part of me fears that when I show it to the people around me, that they will read it… and find it completely unimpressive.. or worse… rubbish. And since writing has become such an integral part of my means of expression, I don’t know if I can handle that kind of rejection. The fraction of things I have attempted to share on Facebook have been received with mix responses. Encouragingly, some like it and find it inspiring or thoughtful. But not everyone had nice things to say…. One friend told me they just didn’t know how to respond to writing like that.. another told me that it’s too long winded and intense, and someone else just told me flat out – it’s not that good.

There are many other small reasons, but I guess these 2 are the biggest ones. It’s safer to just stick this way and pretend I’m sort of an anonymous diamond in the rough that has every potential of becoming as popular and as awesome as this guy (link) than to try and find out that I really am not. So strong are the chains of fear that keep us from reaching our full potential – or at least to try to. By the way, I really really admire his work. 

Having all this fears aside, I still find myself wanting to share my writings (as awesome or as lousy as they are) with the people close to me at the very least. Like a child who eagerly shows his drawings to his parents; they don’t expect to be told that they’re a Picaso in the making; they just want to share a piece of themselves that they have deposited into their artwork with others. The same child then carries his work closely, everywhere he goes, because it’s important to him. But he shows it to a few choice people… because unlike his family, others may reject his work and call it ugly. That’s how I feel.

But I’m not even as brave as this child. Because hiding behind the face of anonymity, I have shown my work to almost no one. I have been withholding a part of myself from them.. which I guess isn’t entirely fair. They get to share every other aspect of my life. Why do I now withhold this from them? Maybe they deserve to know this part of me too. If not them, then who?

Anyway, I haven’t figured it out yet… I may not even do it at all. If I do start a blog, it will have to be different from what I do here. It will not be so intimate. It will not be so fluid. It will not be completely anonymous. That much I have figured out.

The rest… I dunno… let me sit on it a while.

New Layout : Simplicity and Me

So I finally updated my blog template..... but only after Blogger made it as easy enough for me to actually do some meaningful adjustments without having to learn how to read and write HTML.

And after about an hour of clicking away, I present to you...........

........ the most plain, simple and ordinary run-of-the-mill looking blog you will ever come across. 

Sadly, I really have absolutely zero art or design skills. I'm hopeless at anything creative. People talk about always needing to think out of the box. I can't. I'm in the box. I'm the center of the box. I AM the freaking box.

Everytime I have tried revamping my blog I tell myself I'm going to make the most awesome looking blog ever.. not that many people are going to read it anyway (but one can always dream)... So I click, click and click away... The annoying thing about myself is that I inevitably end up going complete black, complete white, or something plain. Then when I realize I'm not getting anywhere near awesome, I scrap the whole idea and am left with my original crude and elementary looking blog.

But I think I will always want my blog to look plain and simple. I don't think I am ever going to shake that off. No one actually thought me this, but I do believe plain and simple allows you to focus on the content with no distractions.

And truth be told, I think I'm the kind of guy that constantly strives for simplicity. I think there is much beauty in simplicity. The ironic part is, I think of myself as rather complicated. I tell everyone I'm just your regular joe.. the most ordinary guy you will ever meet... but deep down inside, I actually feel more like a lonely alien. I haven't met any guys around me who actually say the things I say, feel the way I feel, or do the things I do....

Someone once said to me that it's because I was 'different'.....

But heck everyone's 'different'...

I think I'm really just WEIRD....

Which is probably why I strive for simplicity. To counter the complicated side of me. The outward appearance of simplicity is meant to shield and hide the inner sense of complexity.

Which totally explains in some convoluted way how this blog ended up looking like this.

Make sense?

No?

Oh what the heck, it's just a bloody blog anyway.

Pains of a Writer

The thing about writing is.. you've got to strike when the iron is hot.

Sometimes, in the middle of my day be it during a shower, driving, having lunch or picking my nose, I get a flash of brilliance. Rather like a string of thought and words about a subject matter. It's like your mind is just mulling over an issue without having any particular thought.. and suddeny... everything crystallizes, clouds are lifted for a while... and for that few moments, you suddenly gain insight..... and you are able to put in a very definable, coherent way, exactly what you're feeling, exactly what you think, exactly what you mean. They string together in some brilliant sentence of enlightenment that you privately think in your heart deserve to be quoted alongside the likes of Mark Twain or Winston Churchill or Gandhi...


There's no stopping the flow of thoughts. One sentence builds upon another and before you know it, there are whole paragraphs ready to be spewed out from your mind.... You know its fleeting, you know it needs to be captured before it is lost forever in the recesses of your mind.


And that's when you usually realize you don't having anything to write it all down with. I need a pen! I need a laptop! I need to write it down! And you try to get your hands on anything to just start scribbling down what could possibly be the quote of the century..........

But when you finally sit in front of the computer, ready to jot down all you knew you had to say... nothing comes. The rush is over. The words have come and gone.. and you find yourself writing half baked versions of what you originally had in your mind which doesn't really satisfy at all.

Ever had that? I believe it's one of the pains of being someone passionate about writing.

In other words... maybe I should get an I-Pad.

;-)

Cheers...

Where the curiosity stops, the reading ends.

If you've ever started a blog before in your life, you'll know that all bloggers, ALL.. with NO exceptions have wondered at some point in their lives who's actually reading their blogs. I know it's a rather self centered, self absorbed kind of thought... but it’s unavoidable. Everyone word spoken longs to be heard. Similarly, every word typed longs to be read, whether or not the author thinks he’s ready for it to be read is a different matter.

I'm saying all this now because I found on my twitter account (look under random thoughts) that 68 tweets later, I now a grand total of 3 followers. Of course I am well aware that in the tweeting world, this is as pathetic a number as it gets. I checked, and Britney Speaks as 5.14 million followers, Lady Gaga has 4.5million followers and the oldest twitterer in the world, Ivy Bean has about fifty four thousand followers. I have 3.

But considering that this blog (as well as my tweet) is completely anonymous, has zero links to anywhere else on the World Wide Web and is virtually unknown to everyone around me, I’m not being too hard on myself. I consider anything more than 10 hits a day as nothing short of phenomenal. (No, I’m not being modest here) What’s worse would be to shamelessly promote my blog to everyone around me and still find only about 3 readers.

Now, I may just be an amateur blogger with hardly any readers, but believe it or not, I have actually been blogging for 6 years now. In those six years, I have written 637 post which averages to roughly one post every four days. I honestly say I got a real kick out of calculating that…. If only for my self-entertainment.

I think there used to be some person in India who read my old blog but has since disappeared; a certain Malaysian lady (named Cat) living in the US is a regular; I know a certain person sitting in Melbourne reads this (yes, YOU Miss Reads-But-Never-Speaks…lol); another person living in France drops by once in a while (Is that Madame or Monsieur?); There’s a certain POD from Singapore (whose acronym I’m still trying to figure out)..….. and maybe one or two living in Malaysia., I can’t really be sure.

Here are some interesting facts you may not have known - I have come to know and met 3 complete strangers from blogging. All of which I’m glad to say didn’t turn out to be creepy stalkers or murderers… but genuinely nice people… a few of which I have ended up becoming genuine friends with (though I still have a hard time explaining to people how we met). I received an email once from someone in Canada, asking for my opinion on what to do about a certain life crisis she was going through – her soldier boyfriend had died in the war in Afghanistan and she was falling in love with another guy who lost his partner in the war too at about the same time. She wasn’t sure if they were truly falling in love, or was he just looking to fill the emotional void. I didn’t really feel qualified to give out advice especially when I don’t know the whole tale, but replied anyway… trying my best to empathize. I didn’t hear from her since. I wonder how things are now.

I’ve come to accept that most (if not all) readers come and go.

Those who have bothered to stay and read say I talk a lot of sense. Others have said they enjoy my frankness or the way I write. But I also know that some people find my posts too wordy. I have since tried to be a bit more concise, but remind myself that with this blog at least, the freedom to express whatever, however in as many words as needed took precedence over the urge to trim it down to something more palatable for people not willing to read more than 500 words per post. People want everything instant, compact and to the point. If you haven’t got to you point after two mouse scrolls, you’re taking too long. We want instant gratification. We want this condensed version of things.

But everyone has their own style of writing…. And 6 years and 600 over post later, I’ve discovered – so do I. And true to my personality in real life, I take my time in writing. And I take my time in making a point. This ain’t a ‘fast food’ blog. It’s a full course meal.. meant to be taken slowly and unhurriedly. And you eat whatever’s the special of the day, sometimes it’s a serving of God and religion, some days it’s platter of insight and love… and other days it’s a smorgasbord of everything. And as with all slow cooked food, how good it is depends a lot on the mood of the chef. Some days he makes delicious and witty remarks, and other days he makes silly analogies likening blogs to restaurant food.

So actually, I make no apologies to people who have found my blog too wordy. Perhaps they told me so in order for me to improve... to be a better writer. And I appreciate that. In all aspects of life, we should and must, always and only, move forward. But so far, I’m happy with what I am. Words are meant to express. And I think I express myself pretty clearly. They might say people don’t have the patience to read so many words. But that’s OK for me. Those who think it’s worth their time will take the time. I have no delusions of grandeur, no lofty dreams nor any craving for open recognition for the things I write. I don’t kid myself into thinking I should and can be a writer – plenty of others are more qualified.

It all boils down to what this is. It all boils down to the reason this blog exist (which I’ve already mentioned before). This blog is a personal piece of writing. Personal not in the sense of sharing all the details of my life – what I do, where I live, how I look like, political opinions etc…those sorts of blogs are a dime a dozen written by authors who somehow believe their lives are more interesting and more worth telling than others. But personal in the sense that it is here that I regularly deposit excerpts of my mind.. and along with it, a piece of my heart.

You will find this blog worth reading, only if you find me worth knowing. Because that is what will happen if you continue reading – knowing more and more of me even though I remain a complete stranger. Unless you do have a personal interest in getting to know me and what I have to say, there really is very little reason why anyone would continue reading once they’ve discovered all they want to know about me……. or they’ve simply had enough of me. Where the curiosity stops, the reading ends. And it is not my job, nor my intention to deliberately write in such a way as to keep your curiosity or interest in this alive. That'd be tantamount to selling out.... (I think I'm a bit of a purist in that sense)

I do not pretend to be someone worth knowing. I don’t know what kind of impression I give people. In my life, some have been happy to know me. Others are indifferent and don’t really think anything about me at all. I have been a blessing to a few, but also a mistake to others. My presence has been an encouragement to some, but also a stumbling block to others. I have been the knight in shining armour to one, but also the dark cloud of temptation to another. I have tended lovingly to wounds that eventually heal, but also been the one to rip hearts apart. I have moments of brilliance and moments of weakness. I have righteous convictions but also lustful thoughts. I have a giving heart, but also selfish desires. In short, I am just like everybody else….. or at least, anybody who has all the above too. :-P

If you think that’s worth your while… well…. Happy reading.. and cheers to you my friend.

:-)

P/S: Having said all that, some days I do read back on the things I write and find it more than just a bit too melodramatic even for my own taste.. I'll usually go "WHAT THE HELL??!!!"

Life of a Con Man

It's funny how every time there's a report in the news about the fake billionaire Elie Youssef Najem, a post I wrote about him on my old blog suddenly gets a surge of traffic, which then leads them to this particular blog.

This guy Elie has been real busy... First  he pledges a gozillian dollars to build a cancer research hospital, some years later he gets caught handling fake US dollars (he had USD500 notes, USD100,000 and USD1,000,000 notes....... when the highest USD note available is actually only USD100), and forces his wife to film them having sex. Kinky stuff eh? Later we find out that his wife isn't his wife at all, and their marriage is annulled. A day later he's charged in court for khalwat in a dodgy hotel in a dodgy part of town with an even more dodgy woman, 49 years of age (Told you he's kinky). Now he's being charged by the Malaysian court for breaching his social visit pass terms by claiming to be a director of a local company.

Although he claims to be a director, even the courts know this guy is in fact a con man of the highest (or lowest) order. He's being charged with Regulation 11 (7) of the Immigration Regulations 1963 for engaging in a professional occupation while on a social visit pass.

I didn't know the court recognized 'Con Man'  as a professional occupation.

When Left to His Own Devices...

I'm starting to remember how it feel like being on my own.

8 years of being in a full time relationship tends to make you forget how it feels like to decide what to do with you time, all the time. You get used to this mode of planning things together, giving in there, going along there. Relationships are often dictated by how well you compromise with each other. When it's just you, there is no compromising to do. There's no need to give in. In fact, there is no giving to do at all. You do what you want, go where you want, when you want. With relationships, you're always giving. You give and you give even when you think you can't give anymore, you still do.

Anyway, I digress.

I realize I'm doing exactly the same things I used to do before I was ever in a relationship. I bring my guitar along with me these days, especially when I travel. I grab it and play a few chords every other night. It feels nice listening to the sound of the guitar. It's not a Sony Walkman or an Apple iPod. Just me strumming simple songs to myself, but I'm happy anyway. Just don't ask me to play a song for you.

I read again; Readers Digest, Men's Health Magazine, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman, CLEO magazine (don't ask)..... anything and everything really, as long as it's good. I owe my command of English to reading. Honest to God, I still don't know what the heck is a verb or noun, I don't know it means to have present or past or perfect participle and I don't intend to ever find out. Learning the rules of a language doesn't make you better at it, just more correct. And in this age obsessed with political correctness, nothing you say will be correct anyway. So why bother?

Lastly, I write. Come to think of it, I officially started writing when I was 14 years old. I bought myself a hard case diary with a lock on it. It was meant for me to write all my deepest darkest thoughts, secret crushes and other assorted infatuations. I still keep it actually. In my first entry, I wrote a description about the ideal girl for me. Sweet, kind, gentle, soft spoken. My perfect love; I had her pictured so clearly in my head. When I did finally fall absolutely head over heels in love with someone, she turned out to be nothing like what I wrote. Just goes to show what we know eh? Anyway, that passion eventually manifested into this blog & my old one, which I have said for the millionth time, I'm incredibly shy & tight lipped about. The funny thing here is, when writing, I totally assume no one is reading this. But when I finally click publish, I totally wish someone would drop a freaking comment. Weird eh? I have thought about making my blog known to every Ah Chong, Muthusamy & Ahmad before.... but I'm still mulling over it. We'll see.


So what does a guy like me do when left to his own devices? 

Music, words and more words.

Damn, I'm such a bore. :-S

"Four Sixes later..." he wrote

When I was six year old, I always thought I would one day become a pilot. It was my dream as a kid. I wanted to be called Captain; I wanted to have the smart looking uniform and I wanted to fly high in the skies & see the world. I'd run in the field with my arms strength apart swinging left to right, looking up feeling the wind in my face, imagining the day I'd be up there one day literally soaring through the sky.

When I was twelve, I was starting to believe that maybe I'd end up becoming a lawyer instead. I had started wearing spectacles, which crushed my hopes of being a pilot. But I had a keen mind. Logic, reasoning & intellectual debates appealed to me. I watched debates, I started reading books & started developing an interest in philosophy.

When I was eighteen, physics & engineering was what appealed to me. I found out that lawyers were daylight carnations of blood sucking vampires (no offense), but I had also developed a love for physics & science. It explained the why and how of things. I knew why apples fell & balloons floated. I knew why a barrel full of liquid would fall the same speed as an empty one. I understood mass, heat, energy & the laws that governed the universe. It made sense to me. It made sense of this wide wide world I was just beginning to understand & it quenched my thirst of why.

But now, at twenty four....

An engineer I did become, but I no longer crave for detailed explanations on how things worked. I understood enough to appreciate it & learned to accept things as they are. Physics explained how things worked, but it didn't explain why. Why are we here? What's life all about? Books told me the magnetic fields of the earth made the world go round, but everyone else insist it's really love. Love? Really? And so I tried exploring it, trying to understand it. I fell in love. I experienced puppy love, electrifying first touches, magic first kisses & intense moments of passion but more than that, solemn moments of sacrifice, humility, forgiveness & grace. I found out love wasn't something you live to learn about but something your learn to live by.


I started writing six years ago, and have kept at it (somewhat) consistently. Hundreds of self absorbed & incoherent post later, I still find myself stuck in front of the monitor with half baked attempts at writing something meaningful or profound. For what? Nothing really. Self satisfaction perhaps. To who? Nobody actually. If you asked me to explain in a nutshell what this blog is about, and what is it I'm really writing about.... I'd have to say.. it's about life, and love through my eyes. Life and its idiosyncrasies; love and its physics-defying ability to make the world go round.


To tell you the truth, I am extremely shy about what I write. Some in-built self degrading mechanism constantly tells me that the things I write aren't good enough to be read, what more shared. Something I realize I need to work on. On the rare occasion that I do share what I write with people, I have received positive feedback. They urge me to submit articles for publication, which I usually dismiss as absurd. It's too wordy. Too many commas. Too 'grandfather'. It's not that good. It's not interesting enough. PLUS, there are so so many better writers out there. People who could string thoughts & words together like a master tailor, and even THEY don't get published... even they don't call themselves writers. Who am I to claim such a title then?

And yet, the idea has somehow stuck in my head. I allowed myself the indulgence of fancy thinking. An engineer turned writer musing about life & love & crane charts? Talk about off key. I'm just some guy who writes. I don't know if that qualified me as I writer. I disqualified myself from being a writer per se because as a rule, I did not write for readership, and I did not write for popularity. Who the hell would want to pay you if what you wrote did not attract readership? Someone said to me that be that as it may, if people enjoyed reading my thoughts, why not give it a shot? Why not pursue this more seriously? How do you know there aren't more people who would enjoy what you write? I don't... and I guess I'm kind of afraid to find out also.

But after four sixes of living life, I'm giving serious thought again to what I want in life again. Six a pilot, twelve a lawyer, eighteen an engineer, twenty four... a writer? Could it really happen?


I'll let you know in six years.

Background Music..Makes Everything Better

You have no idea how much I identify with this:

http://www.thedoghousediaries.com/?p=1150

There's always background music when I write too! Hahaha...

I quit Facebook... and I didnt die

I just deactivated my Facebook account. I did it on a whim.

Actually I was looking for the 'delete account' button. But discovered that Facebook offered no such buttons. Once you're in, you can never get out! I never realized that! I guess they assumed anyone wanting to delete their Facebook account is either crazy or out of their mind.

It makes you stop to and wonder about how life was like before social networking websites ever existed. And I guess for most users today below 20 years of age, they'd have no idea how that's supposed to feel like. For one, the most active place people communicated with each other was forums, chats (ICQ), and of course, good old fashion email. (Isn't it funny that emails are already considered old fashion when it's been around 20 years or so, while letter have been there for centuries!). This is probably also the same generation that assumes that by default, every 15 year old kid has a mobile phone of their own.

Perhaps I AM crazy, or out of my mind. I have a feeling most people would find the act of deleting your Facebook account to be unthinkable. But I did think about it... and I decided, I'm going to delete it.......or at least deactivate it la.

How earth shattering is it REALLY going to be anyway? Of the measly 187 people I had on my list, at least half were people I haven't spoken to or met in a year (many of which I've been contemplating to delete). Many others I've either met only once or twice. Some are people I know from work, others are relatives. How many of them were what I'd consider real life non-virtual-world friends? I think less than 20. And these 20 or so people.... they don't need Facebook to keep in touch with me. They actually call, text me, email or meet up with me whenever possible. You think the world's going to miss my online presence? Think again.

There was a time when this blog was all I had as far as online activities went. There were only 2 reasons I went to the cyber cafe every few days or so.. to check my email (which often had no mail anyway) and to just write my heart out. I didn't care if anyone read it (I knew there weren't, and if there were, they were strangers), I didn't bother about being eloquent, and I didn't bother about layout, or fonts sizes, or blog templates. But it was enough. It was more for myself than for anyone else. One or two anonymous comments would come every once in a while.. and I would feel like somewhere out there, someone listened, and shared my heart. And it was enough.

Things like Facebook came along, and turned all of us into self absorbed narcissists and compulsive virtual stalkers. There was a point in time where I'd check my Facebook countless times a day, just seeing what people were up to, and if anyone left a comment on my page. I'd obsess over which picture to put on my profile and only be too eager to post my latest pictures online... assuming as if people just couldn't wait to see what I had to show the them. I'd get excited every time someone posted a comment on my wall, or my picture.. or whatever at all. It became almost as if we have turned to Facebook to satisfy our sense of existence and belonging amongst others.

I think subconsciously, we all assumed that people would be interested in what we have to share... or at least we hope they do. Have you ever stopped to wonder if what you are about to post, whether it's a new album, or a new note, or a new wall post, is something your friend are actually interested to know?

I love this blog of mine so much more than I do my Facebook account for a few very simple reasons. For one, this blog is immensely more personal to me. I write a lot of my personal and private thoughts here, more than I ever do with even people close to me. It's my escape. It's my release. Secondly, opposite to how we approach Facebook-ing (is that a real word yet?) I assume by default that nothing I write here is of interest to anyone, except myself of course. It's not MEANT to be interesting to anyone. It's just meant to be personal..... TO ME. And throughout the history of my blogging days, I'd safely say that every single person who has visited my page (which is really really very measly trust me) came by stumbling upon it. I have made zero attempts at diverting traffic here. Someone once asked me why I don't just put this blog as private if I didn't want risk people I know reading it. Well, I guess, as personal as it is to me, a part of me still wanted to share whatever I had to say to the world, and I still wanted it to be available for anyone who wanted to read it, whether by fate or by interest..... or both.

To put it in an analogy (yes, I know I speak in analogies all the time.... but so did Jesus right? Hahaha).....

When I log into Facebook, I feel like I'm in this big giant hall, and everyone's in there. We're all wearing big giant hats with out 'Status' on it.. and everyone gets to read whatever you want to say. Our left hand is holding up a big giant collage of all our favourite pictures. Our right hand is a smorgasbord of notes, video clips, games, applications etc etc... and we're all just running around randomly and endlessly, having a quick laugh here, dropping a short comment here, giving our thumbs up there.. before moving on to the next bozo. It's fun for a while... but after a while, it gets tiring for me, not to mention lame.... and meaningless. Because there really isn't really a point to it beyond the little tid bit details you gain from your friends here and there. Oh, she's got a bf now. Oh, he just went to Cameron. Oh, he was late for work today. Oh, Avatar was awesome, but chipmunks sucked..... I know all this little bits of everyone... then what? Then what my friend?


On the other hand, with my blog, I feel like I'm in my own little flower garden. It's empty, but every single plant or ornament is a post I placed there with a lot of heart.. and a lot of passion, and I feel a very strong sense of ownership over it. There is a nice lazy chair in the middle where I sit, to either soak up the sun on a good day, or curse at the sky, on a bad day. It's my little garden, but it's open for anyone who wishes to venture in and smell the roses, or ask about the funny ornaments that surround it.... and I'd gladly and proudly explain each and every one of them. Every visitor came on their own accord (however few), every comment came from their own desire to connect with the gardener, me.

I think I'll stop here, less you start to think I'm falling in love with my own blog.. or my own self. :-P

I think I'm going to keep my Facebook account deactivated for now. That's not to say I'm through with it for good. I never said that. It's just that as far back as I can recall, it has given me no real lasting value, either in strengthening real friendships and relationships, or in connecting to people I really want to connect with. All it gives me is 300 meaningless bite sized live updates everyday about a hundred over people, whom I hardly talk to or care about. It HAS caused me to spend countless mouse clicks deleting email notifications. It HAS made me less productive at work, and it HAS made me feel like I'm connected to everyone yet still sorely lacking any depth in any of those connections.... which is WORSE than not being connected to anyone at all.

So at least for now, as far as social networks websites go.. thanks, but no thanks. Perhaps I'll reactivate my account again.... if I start to feel too much life a prehistoric hermit. In the mean time, at least this prehistoric hermit will continue the (already) prehistoric activity of blogging... which I will have you know....were first started back in Egypt.. thousands of years ago. What else did you think those ancient hieroglyphics were really about?

Cheers everyone.

Is blogging healthy?

Is blogging really a good thing to be doing? A bizarre little thought crossed my mind as I was going about my day today.

"Blogging is almost like talking to your imaginary friend"

Or rather, MY blogging is almost like talking to an imaginary friend. You write and you write, but to who? Who are you writing to? Is it supposed to be for anyone in particular to read? And when I say 'you', I really mean 'me'. I do nothing to promote this blog to people I know. Quite the opposite really. I go through great pains to make sure no one ever comes near this little space of mine! And so I keep this intimate little space online.. whispering all sorts of secrets to my little blog, like a little boy playing with his own imaginary friend at the corner of the play ground, away from the rest of the boys. Its my little secret... and its my little space.... no one's supposed to know or read the secrets I divulge. YET.. at the same time, I get excited every time someone leaves a comment. Again, I'm full of contradictions.

There are times I wonder to myself why I enjoy sitting alone in Starbucks or at home being lost in my own world minuting down all the itsy bitsy details of my life. But there is a strange allure to it... and from the number of people out there blogging their hearts out, I must not be alone in this addiction too. Maybe its a two fold reason.

We all have this infinite desire to share our lives with people. No man is an island... and as I read somewhere, we are all wired for connection. It's in our veins to want to connect with another human being. We put our lives up for display via our blogs, because we want others to come, peer in, be interested in us, and engage us in human interaction. We have this craving to be part of something bigger than ourselves; part of a community. By having a blog, and with steady stream of readers, we are reminded that we exist not only as ourselves, but also as part of this larger group. In many ways, I think making this sort of connections, via blogs, emails, phone calls, facebook, twitter and what have you all really serve the same underlying thing. These connections truly make us feel alive.

To a lesser extent, I think blogging also sort of fulfills the inner of some of us to become writers. Gone are the days when the only way for you to get people to read your writings were to have them published in the newspaper or journals. With blogging, EVERYONES a writer. The good, the bad and the ugly, all in. Anyone with an internet connection and a web browser can start a website of his own. Heck, look at me; When I started, I didn't have a clue about html editing, web page design or how to start your own blog... and look at me today.....I...wait a minute.....I STILL don't have a clue!.... but then look at how easy it has become so easy for everyone! Even your grandmother could write a blog these days. Not everyone is that should write does write, and many who shouldn't really write at all write all the time though. But who am I to judge them.

So back to this idea of this blog as an imaginary friend. The more I write, the more I feel it is true to some extent; like an invisible confidant that I go to everytime I need to get something off my chest. Maybe if I were a bit more normal, my first port of call would be the my phone, calling someone sharing my thoughts, fears and dreams.. But here's the funny thing that happens instead. I blog FIRST... and write it all out... AFTER THAT, when I find myself in conversation with friends and family again, I suddenly find myself echoing the words that I had typed out earlier in my blog. I am actually repeating the things I write instead of later writing out things I said. Not that any of them know it of course.

Anyways, that's all for now.