I've got a new blog

Here it is

Fuck Rogers

I'm late for work. I had clumsily forgotten my watch and stumbled dreamily onto the bus with hardly any recollection of the breakfast I had earlier.

Sleepy faces on the bus all over. I wonder if the high tech circuits in this new bus are still drowsy from dreaming of electric sheep.

I'm going to work late and somehow I don't feel like I care about it at all. What's a few minutes compared to the total time I spend at work?

There's too much happening on this earth to sweat the small stuff.

Chicago-Street Player (12" promo)

After having heard Pitbull's I Know You Want Me, I simply had to find out which song they had sampled.

Here it is, the original track. The real thing.

Enjoy.

Bicycles

Pardon me for the paucity of my entries, but I haven't had the drive to blog in a long while. Work has taken a generous bite of my life, and turned me into a zombie.

In other news, I have one thing to blog about.

Cycling.

It's a sport and a hobby, dammit.

You don't buy into the bicycling thing by just owning a shiny expensive bicycle overnight.

You don't just don messenger bags just cause they're oh so cool.

We grew up riding those bicycles. We spent our youth figuring out how to tune our deraileurs, we spent our teenhood always saving up for our new bicycles - they weren't much, but they meant a lot given how hard we had to save up for them.

We rode, because that's pretty much the only thing we could do, having spent all our time and money on our bicycles. But we loved it.

It was our life, and it always will be.

We grew up on those roads and trails.

Did you?

The Crying Game

I was on the way to work in a taxi, when Culture Club's 'Do You Really Want To Hurt Me' played on the radio.

I almost cried.

No, not because it hit any raw nerves.

It was because I was so out of love, so out of touch, that the song no longer bears any relevance to my life.

The fact that I was as numb to the themes of the song as I was when I first heard it at age 9 was the tragedy that was worth crying about.

stream

im really unsure of how to get past this bullshit writersblock, if you even call me a writer. the will to blog is weak in me especially when my indoor thermometer reads thirty point fucking nine degrees c. those article style blog posts obviously arent doing any shit to my readership and to be honest no one wants to read the pretentious crap i write that no one can identify with

i dont know if they use paragraphing in what they call stream of consciousness writing but ill use them. makes it more natural like those 2 second pauses that people use as verbal paragraphing when making their pompous speeches. so here i am paragraphing my shit the way i want to

like this

it really makes that mess more readable unlike lets say trainspotting which i had tried thrice to complete but failed, think i should just watch the damn movie instead, if only i can find the dvd

what is so cool about this is a transcript of my very thoughts. yes. what youre seeing is my pure unadulterated thought, be it fucked it up or not. but its all me, and all honest and raw and unedited, like peering down the proverbial blouse of my mind

yes im a dirty fucker

but enough with that shit its chinese new year and i shouldnt be mucking around with disgusting shit like that.

visiting relatives and all that jazz. seeing my cousins grow up, wondering if they feel the same way as i do when they see me grow up. i have this cousin who i hardly talk to and somehow it feels like we are similar in so many ways. sometimes im jealous of their youth and how much happier they are than i was when i was their age.

sometimes i wish i were them instead of me so i could get away without slogging my fucking vestiges of youth away on work. i miss my youth

just this morning my taxi drove past my old school and i near cried. the days used to be so much happier. so much less lonely. i had friends that had mattered and i hung around with them all the time. youthful ignorance had let us enjoy the good parts of life while ignoring adult things like finances bills family career and those boring things that grownups used to speak of at family reunions.

now its our turn

over the dinnertable i am expected to brag about my job. but fuck that. i feel like a fraud. im not even passionate about what i do, hell i didnt even work hard to get where i am i sorta just figured it out. if i had really worked hard to get to where i really want to be id be playing the guitar next to bono and alongside brian may and bring more music to the world

drowning out the silence in the world. the silence in the room kills me and i have to keep the music playing to kill the silence. cause im so lonely. so terribly lonely.

and single.

and i wish i had a special someone but how the fuck do i look for one given my preferences? i dunno how the others do it but maybe they do it anyway and regret it eventually. maybe by being picky and lonely im protecting myself from the falls and the disappointments but maybe, just maybe, the transient highs before the disappointments may be worth the pain. maybe.

but sitting in this room for hours in a day, with nothing but a computer and the hifi to entertain me is not sustainable. i'll regret that shit someday, but how can i regret something i didnt even consciously choose?

Cadbury Dairy Milk - UK vs Australia shootout

Was pretty pleased to find Cadbury Dairy Milk from both countries in Mustafa the other day, so I bought both for a taste test.



UK Cadbury is the one in the purple foil wrap, Aussie is in that cardboard box.



First tasting:
UK Cadbury - Very strong cocoa taste, doesn't really melt in your mouth and has a very grainy mouthfeel. A bit disappointing.

Aussie Cadbury - The milkiness is the first thing I notice, and it's extremely creamy. There's a slight caramel aftertaste to it and less of the cocoa taste. Melts in your mouth perfectly. Sweetness was about the same for both.

Second tasting:
Aussie Cadbury - as above

UK Cadbury - Tasting the Aussie Cadbury before the UK makes it very evident that the UK cadbury is the inferior product. The cocoa tasted artificial, and the mouthfeel is simply inferior. I don't like it.


Verdict: Aussie Cadbury (easily available in Singapore) pwns UK Cadbury hands down

A stark realisation

I've done a rotation in oncology - it makes me realise that life is truly impermanent. I've seen for myself that some of the patients are young dudes. Dudes my age, or around my age. And that's just the dying people. Even more people my age transition directly from the healthy-and-alive phase to the dead phase, skipping the dying phase altogether.

Even the famous dudes conk out early all the time.

Joe Strummer did.

Michael Jackson did.

Stephen Gately did.

It could be me as much as it could have been them.

25? 50? 75? I dunno.

But I had better live every day as though it would be my last. And this time, I mean it. Because, when I get diagnosed with terminal cancer or whatever, I don't want to spend my last bedridden months regretting.

We have finite lifespans, and we had better analyse our own priorities and act on them before we conk out.

Do I really want to suck up to the boss who is going to forget me in 2 months? Do I want to sacrifice my health and mental health, and the opportunities to be around my parents (who have their own finite lifespans), just because of what others expect of me?

No.

I want to do the things that matter to myself. Experiencing new things, seeing things in new perspectives, being accountable to the people I treasure, and keeping myself healthy.

==

I am accountable to my employer. But I am also accountable to my family, my friends, and most importantly, myself.

What do I really want?

What do I really, really want?

==

At my deathbed, would I regret not putting in enough hours at work? It's more likely I'd regret the more pleasurable things that I had not had enough of.

Seeing the flocks of birds fly across the sunset.

Watching Hollywood's best works.

Listening to the most intricate of modern music.

Tasting the various flavours that world cuisine has to offer.

Having had fulfilling relationships.

And the simple pleasure of living as many healthy, pain-free days as we can possibly have.

Working excessively hard at work would not, in any way, improve my life.

==

As a medical professional I want to be an ambassador of good health. Live healthy, eat healthy, think healthy, and to spread the message.

I can't do that when I'm working 14 hour days, having so little time for rest I have to sleep like a homeless man on public transport just to get enough rest to get by.

I ache all over. I'm emotionally worn. I feel like a broken-down man. This can't be good for my lifespan.

==

Call me lazy, call me irresponsible, but I'm taking charge of my life. I'm going to underperform at work, because it is my responsibility to myself.

I have to make the choices that make my life meaningful to myself. I have to live every day as though it is my last.

Who knows when I will conk out?