Life's a little messed up right now. Time to take a long deep look at myself. Entry will be a work-in-progress...
Hobbies:
1) Tennis - Have stopped playing for the past few weeks... realised that I've stopped improving, and starting moving in the wrong direction. My zest for the game ist still present, but it's a sports that requires someone else to play with. Need someone to play with, need some place to play with, need some coach to learn with...
2) Roller-blading
3) Squash
4) Golf
5) Running
6) Gym
7) Ping-pong
8) Cable-skiing
9) Badminton
10) Swimming
11) Ice-Skating
12) Reading
13) EPL
14) Formula One
15) Baking
16) Watching American shows
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Was it Nothing At All....
I have a mp3 player. It's my very own Sony NW-S203. It's primary purpose: Provide the rhythm when I'm apace. My old one busted during the Singapore Marathon last year, only 3km into the run.
The music I play, it's all running music, with the fast musical beat coursing through my veins. My every step keeps to that rhythm, my arms swing left and right, and my lips alternate between silently echoing the lyrics and taking deep invigorating breaths.
All except one song, Michael Damien's "Was It Nothing At All". It's not the right beat; it's slow, calm, serene even... totally against what a running song should be... But, there's something so special about the song that I can't place it. There's something about the way he sings it, the guitar chords accompanying it that simply thrusts past my physical boundaries... I hear it with my heart, not my ears.
He sings it so painfully... the hurt just cries out at you
"Was it nothing at all...
No more hope of holding your body in the moonlight...
Did I fall in love for nothing..."
Perhaps his song reaches deep into the recesses of my suppressed memories. Was really happy once, with someone near and dear to my heart. But love dies, people move on, and memories are forgotten. Until a time when such a song comes, hurling its pick-ax and excavating the memories of past happiness and sorrow. And I wonder why I loved so hard, if it still came to naught.
"No more hope of touching you, feeling you by my side...
Did I fall in love for nothing..."
This song will remain in my music folder, happily hidden in-between two quick-paced, lyric-less tunes. If you ever see me, or run with me, and I have my headphones on...and my eyes glaze, and my feet slows its pace, and there's a broken smile on my face... you'll know what I'm hearing.
The song of my past.
The music I play, it's all running music, with the fast musical beat coursing through my veins. My every step keeps to that rhythm, my arms swing left and right, and my lips alternate between silently echoing the lyrics and taking deep invigorating breaths.
All except one song, Michael Damien's "Was It Nothing At All". It's not the right beat; it's slow, calm, serene even... totally against what a running song should be... But, there's something so special about the song that I can't place it. There's something about the way he sings it, the guitar chords accompanying it that simply thrusts past my physical boundaries... I hear it with my heart, not my ears.
He sings it so painfully... the hurt just cries out at you
"Was it nothing at all...
No more hope of holding your body in the moonlight...
Did I fall in love for nothing..."
Perhaps his song reaches deep into the recesses of my suppressed memories. Was really happy once, with someone near and dear to my heart. But love dies, people move on, and memories are forgotten. Until a time when such a song comes, hurling its pick-ax and excavating the memories of past happiness and sorrow. And I wonder why I loved so hard, if it still came to naught.
"No more hope of touching you, feeling you by my side...
Did I fall in love for nothing..."
This song will remain in my music folder, happily hidden in-between two quick-paced, lyric-less tunes. If you ever see me, or run with me, and I have my headphones on...and my eyes glaze, and my feet slows its pace, and there's a broken smile on my face... you'll know what I'm hearing.
The song of my past.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Between letting go, and pushing away...
For all the evil things I do/say to/about my friends, I truly cherish my friends very, very much...
However... when i feel that a friend is slipping away, for various reasons... I would go into the "fight or flight" mode...
The fight...
I'll wrestle my way through those reasons...
I learn a totally new sport, language, making extra time available for him/her, changing my likes/dislikes... maybe even change my hairstyle... But these are only temporary fixes, a 'hack' solution akin to plugging a finger in the leak in the dam... Sometimes that works... but... based on historical evidence... there's only so long it can hold together...
The flight...
I push away...
guess it's age and experience coming into play... you know certain things are inevitable: you can't help what's going to change... the only option left is to... change how you respond to it.
It's a self-preservation mechanism...
the heart can't take anymore rejections... it's been smashed and crumpled so often that only a broken silhouette remains of its former glory... self-preservation by laying the groundwork... it's just like painting a house; if you paper the floor well enough, the stains of the paint job will never leave a mark... similarly, you cover up all the vulnerables, dun give anyone a chance to hurt you... your own brick wall... reinforced with steel and a piranha-infested moat...
It's a pre-emptive strike...
Hurt the other before the other hurts you... it sounds truly malicious and evil. But in this world of strangers and strange things, who else is there to look after you, but yourself? Let them hurt! Why should I always be the one suffering... silently?
...
Both ways, it hurts... suffer alone, or spread the misery?
is there a third way?
However... when i feel that a friend is slipping away, for various reasons... I would go into the "fight or flight" mode...
The fight...
I'll wrestle my way through those reasons...
I learn a totally new sport, language, making extra time available for him/her, changing my likes/dislikes... maybe even change my hairstyle... But these are only temporary fixes, a 'hack' solution akin to plugging a finger in the leak in the dam... Sometimes that works... but... based on historical evidence... there's only so long it can hold together...
The flight...
I push away...
guess it's age and experience coming into play... you know certain things are inevitable: you can't help what's going to change... the only option left is to... change how you respond to it.
It's a self-preservation mechanism...
the heart can't take anymore rejections... it's been smashed and crumpled so often that only a broken silhouette remains of its former glory... self-preservation by laying the groundwork... it's just like painting a house; if you paper the floor well enough, the stains of the paint job will never leave a mark... similarly, you cover up all the vulnerables, dun give anyone a chance to hurt you... your own brick wall... reinforced with steel and a piranha-infested moat...
It's a pre-emptive strike...
Hurt the other before the other hurts you... it sounds truly malicious and evil. But in this world of strangers and strange things, who else is there to look after you, but yourself? Let them hurt! Why should I always be the one suffering... silently?
...
Both ways, it hurts... suffer alone, or spread the misery?
is there a third way?
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