What's in a name - Ernest Beauregard

Ernest Beauregard's story just came to me in an instance... the idea of an angmor sticking a ear pick into his eye was a bit violent and interesting. Ernest's name was chosen with care.

Ernest is also spelt "EARnest" so it's quite apt. According to thinkbabynames.com...

The boy's name Earnest \e(a)-rne-st, ear-nest\ is a variant of Ernest (Old German), and the meaning of Earnest is "serious; battle to the death".

"Beauregard" apparently, according to thinkbabynames.com...

The boy's name Beauregard \be(au)-regard, beaur(e)-ga-rd\ is of French origin, and its meaning is "beautiful gaze".... The name can also mean "easy on the eye".

Catatonia - Mr Bu

Mr Bu began with a sudden urge to name my characters. Most of my characters don't have a name, i find it difficult to name them - perhaps that the stories are so short that they are strangers to me - and i'm, we're just eavesdropping into their lives, so they don't need to have names.

Well, i suppose I need to try harder.

Catatonia is a psychological condition/disorder, described in wikipedia as:

Patients with catatonia may experience an extreme loss of motor skills or even constant hyperactive motor activity. Catatonic patients will sometimes hold rigid poses for hours and will ignore any external stimuli. Patients with catatonic excitement can die of exhaustion if not treated. Patients may also show stereotyped, repetitive movements. They may show specific types of movement such as waxy flexibility, in which they maintain positions after being placed in them by someone else, or gegenhalten (lit. "counterhold"), in which they resist movement in proportion to the force applied by the examiner. They may repeat meaningless phrases or speak only to repeat what the examiner says.

Awakenings starring Robin Williams and Robert De Niro is a really nice show about some catatonic people... (it was adapted from a book). I highly recommend watching it.

A friend on facebook had asked me to try to continue the story. But at this point in time, I don't know how. Though I would really like to try...

Lavender bush - Lavender Remedy

Lavender Remedy - This is how lavender bushes look like.


I think it'd be funny to have 2 of these hanging from your face.

Observation - Traffic Allergic to Rain

Traffic Allergic to Rain was obviously based on my observations that there's always a traffic jam whenever it rains. It's like Singaporeans dunno how to drive in the rain, or something like that.

If it's a heavy downpour, then okay I understand, you know.
but even if it's a light drizzle, there'd also be some hold up.

Maybe soon, they'd jack up the ERP prices on rainy days.

Random updates

Recently I am:

1. Wishing that i have more time/pieces to write for both meekfreak and sneak
2. 27 years old
   
3. Amused by my peperomia which:
   a) is growing tall and upright so that it can reach the sunlight at the window which is about 3 metres away from it.
   b) has almost all its leaves turning to face the window.
   c) now houses a spider (with webs and all) dunno for what, like i don't think there's a lot of traffic on my table... but okay whatever, maybe "Peppy" is just putting him/her up just for tonight.
4. Feeling like growing more plants. Perhaps a tomato plant.
5. Bored.
   

Feet - a story seldom told

A story seldom told... the idea of talking feet has been with me for a long time, i tend to think that if any part of my body were to have its' own mind, surely it'd first begin with my feet. In fact, i had an accident with my little left toe a few years back, and I really believe that it has the mind of its own.

Thought of this story when I was staring at my feet, just after getting home.
I was also looking at yusof ishak on the 2 dollar note and imagined him probably having a conversation with my feet.

I did toy with the idea that the elephant and tortoise fell out of love, but it would be too upsetting for harmony in the body.

And i really did fall asleep halfway writing the story, for about half an hour or so.

It took me... about 3 hours to write. and I nearly gave up. but am glad I didn't.

I think the words look clumsy on the page, but it kinda reads okay when it's read aloud, and the rhythm of reading changes a bit to sorta keep the beat.

pictures - Jie Qi and Peperomia

These are the starting points for the stories Jie Qi and I, its mealy bug. Featured, the clock that cost $5 from ang moh kio central, and the plant that cost $2 - with name peperomia acuminata (which is also called peperomia scandens, in some references). The mealy bugs kinda grew bigger and gross me a little.

The meekfreak banner

Had wanted to write an explanation on the Banner photo at meekfreak for sometime. The significance/symbolism of clouds against the blue sky:

- of imagination: imagining the clouds are of etc etc shapes...
- of surrealism: the blue sky to me - and to some of the surrealists - are representative of the surrealist movement. It's like how the simpsons opens their credits with the white clouds and blue sky.
- of an elephant: I don't know why so coincidental, I think this crop of the clouds shows an elephant at the back. If you don't know, I collect figurines of elephants and adopt it on many occasions as my "emblem" should I need one.
- of a little boy/girl with rabbit/donkey ears: can you see him? in the foreground, in the side profile, with his/her face resting on his little hands and sorta turned to talk to the elephant. So i think it's also representative of my stories with the little meekfreaks characters I write about - the little boy/girl characters with an odd quality or two.
- of jasperware: jasperware's the pottery kinda thing with white patterns against often blue background. The white fonts against that particular blue, reminds me of jasperware that i seen in my childhood and the adults told me not to touch cos it's expensive. I like them cos they are fragile and pretty and delicate. Sometimes, i try to re-create that feeling in my writing. the precision, the delicate elegant depictions.

When I took this picture, it was for the first 2 reasons listed above, but as I was working on it, then the other things came about. so, actually, i like the picture a lot.

Lately, i've been wondering if i should change my meekfreak's name to something less of a mouthful than "chattering matterings of the original meekfreak" and been toying with the idea of "rebranding" - changing my banner etc... but i think that the banner is really quite apt and I wonder if i should change it for the sake of changing.

I also think about writing more things to explain about my book and the deliberation behind some things, but i think it's significantly less important as compared to actually creating new work.

A poem - Hm

Hm. was written tonight. I spent about 1-2 hours on it, and I think poems are very time-inefficient to write. Very little words, but require a lot of thoughts about line breaks and editing and precision of words, perhaps because there's so few of them.

Actually, I don't think free verses written in fairly simple language, like this one, is a real poem. But for reference's sake i call it a poem. It's like I don't think charles bukowshi writes real poems - because I seem to get a pretty clear idea from the first reading. When i studied literature at A-levels, the best i got with just the first reading was a pretty blur idea.

Anyhoos. Let me share with you more on my romantic evening. I reached home early, and before and after dinner sat in my room (which I just re-organised) on a seat in from of my window, with the lights off and just watching the night sky and stars. The dog star - in a familiar position - I remember past years around this time when i wasn't working and wondering about the meaning of life - I watched the star rise into the sky.

I watched the aeroplanes fly by - it must be a busy night with lots of flights chartered or something. And then small clouds rolled by. Could see them - low-hanging- and lit by the city lights - orangey dark grey against orangey black night.
The night breeze stroking my cheek. Cool breeze. It's august, are the north winds blowing again? that's very soon. i thought it had just left us not too long ago.

The neighbour carries the baby at home walking around at home. Another neighbour sitting on the floor of her room.

A bat flies around quickly. The tree in that corner looked different - don't remember that there was a tree that height around there last year. Did it grow so fast? Wondered if it was a coral tree. I like coral trees. But I doubt so. If i could own trees, i would want to. But then again, maybe trees shouldn't be owned.

My mother reminded me that she bought fruits and I unabashedly took the last flat peach and washed and broke into half and ate at my window seat. It's so nice and sweet and cool and juicy. Nice complement to the nightwatch.

The lizard outside the window tsked loudly. The dog star rose higher into the sky.

I wanted to write down these thoughts but to be casual like the above, but it's probably something i've probably written before. This relaxed sentiment is not new so just rambling would not be new because rambling is easy to write. Something abstract? Written something like that before too. So... just wrote what I wrote and it got edited into it's present form. I honestly wonder if the "hm"s are very jarring, and don't think it's a very relaxed piece after all. Well, it's experimental, i suppose.

If you've got the time, effort, and point of view, pls tell me what you think.

Trivial - Watch out!

Watch out! was inspired by my friends at work talking about shit and tapeworms over lunch. So they said they were fed with some "tapeworm medication" when they were young. But they didn't have tapeworms, because they didn't shit any out.

me: what do you mean you didn't shit any out?
them: apparently if you have worms, and you took the medicine, you wld shit it out.
me: how wld you know if you shat it out?
them: cos you can see the worms if you shit it out.
me: omg. you mean you go and see?
them: no lar no lar... you're young mah, but they say lar... cos kids shit in spittoons, and if the worms are shitted out, you can easily see...
me: omg, you mean you can see the worms? as in they're moving?
them: yah! they'd crawl out.
me: then it's like someone go and see the shit they just shit then he'd exclaim "OMG my shit is alive!!!"

then i think that's very funny, so i wrote a modified story on that line.

But i think it's a bit different afterall, i think a moving lump of shit is actually a very much funnier visual spectacle. so maybe I'd write another story about that next time. like an actual live moving lump/piece of shit...

Words in my mouth - Funnel

Funnel was written yesterday after being let known that somebody "put some words in my mouth" - ie. say that I said something I never said.

I wanted to write something to convert the feeling of frustration into positive creative tension or something like that. True enough, it resulted in some strange moderated, not so pek chek kind of ending.

And in my frenzy, i put it up on this blog instead of the meekfreak at first. :P so i correct it now.

Debit notes = invoice / note informing that I owe people money.

Article on aspiring - mangaka & writers club

Wrote an article for some people at the "aspiring mangaka & writers club" to share my experiences on self-publishing. Might well post it up here too - to share with my regulars? and to clock 1 more posting so I don't feel unaccomplished for not posting anything for so long.

i even thought about splitting it up into 2 postings cos it's so long...

---

Hello, how are you?

A few months back I received an email from moon to share on my experiences of writing and self-publishing a book. I was excited to find a community of like-minded Singaporeans and flattered to be asked to write an article. I asked her what I should write about, and she said pretty much anything. Then I asked her how long should the article be. Then she said it’s pretty much up to me. It’s been hard trying to decide what to focus on – writing and/or self-publishing, to me, is very complicated. So, I thought perhaps I could share broadly about how it’s complicated. It is, perhaps, something that I wish I sorted out for myself earlier, and I hope that the brief outline that follows will be helpful to you.

To me, writing (or whatever it is that I want to do) is at least complicated in two aspects. Firstly, there’s the technical aspect of doing things – the “HOW” of getting things done. How to write, what to write, when to write… How to spell a certain word, what is grammatically correct… How to work what software, what is typography, how to design the cover, what shall I put on the cover… and the list goes on and on. Effort must be dedicated to researching, studying/learning, doing, reviewing or editing… I had wanted to do everything myself (including writing to laying out to publicity) because I wanted to have control over all these details, it was important to know what I needed to learn so that I could do what I wanted to do… and how much time and effort each phase (e.g. learning, training, doing phases) would take so that I can allocate my time and energy accordingly.

The second aspect is the psychological or philosophical aspect of things – the “WHY” and reason behind wanting to get things done. In some ways, I think this aspect is often less considered, although it is as important as technical competency, if not more important. This is simply because I could have used the time I spent on writing to do many other things. Similarly, everyone could spend his efforts on doing anything, for example, on doing other things, like studying harder, or doing something for his parents. Why do I want to spend the effort to edit my stories again and again and again, when it gets boring and tedious and trying? Why do I want to do what I want to do? Why do I write?

Understanding this was important to sustain my self-motivation. And even though I always gave different answers to different people asking me about my self-publishing project, it helps when I have the real reasons and motivation firmly establish in my mind. This also prevents me from being hurled into a whirlpool of self-doubt whenever someone asks about what I’m up to, having given up a cushy job, facing zero security with no income, etc.

I recommend putting together a “scrap-book” of why you do what you want to do, so that it’s convenient when you need reminding. It also helped me to have explained my motivations clearly to my closest friends and family members, so that they could better appreciate my pursuit, and helped to remind me, or at least, don’t question me too much.

On this, I recommend reading “Why I write” by George Orwell. You can probably find the full text online or neatly summarized in wiki here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Why_I_Write. Broadly, Orwell discussed 4 motives behind writing and it can kind of get philosophical. Whilst Orwell’s personal reasons did not always apply exactly to me, I generally related to the 4 motives and it greatly helped me organise for myself “why I write”.

In this way, I should think that every individual would have to figure it out for himself, why he writes, or why she draws, or acts, or dances, or become a lawyer or teacher, or whatever it is that he does or wants to do. This is because everyone is different and have differing background, etc, thus everyone’s motivation differs. Which brings me to my next point, writing, to me, is very personal and that it’s SO personal that it complicates things even further. (This is something that I really wish to have been warned about earlier.)

Say for example, taking in other’s criticism or feedback on my work. Because it’s personal, I can’t help emotionally reacting to these inputs and feel bad or upset or happy or proud, and my emotional and psychological reactions would affect how I might assess the criticisms and applying them constructively. On bad days, my psychological reactions to my work – whether I’m good enough to write or not, blah blah – it can even hinder me from writing altogether.

But say then, on the other hand, if I didn’t take my writing personally at all, i.e. I took it totally from the objective point of view, then would I take other people’s opinion or feedback more easily and improve my competencies faster? Yet if I didn’t take my writing personally, then what would I be writing for and what’s the point of improving anything?

Ugh, so how?

I don’t know of a better way, but I try to balance when to treat my writing personally and when to be objective. For example, I treat it personally when I must motivate myself (or put my personal point of view into my stories, but that’s calls for a different discussion). I treat it objectively when I must critique and edit my work, and I find it helps pushing towards higher standards. And this balancing-personal-or-objective-act is difficult. For myself, it demands more self-control, self-awareness, and self-discipline than is required to overcome all the technical complexities combined together.

And I suspect if I didn’t harness the power of how writing is personal, then I wouldn’t have enough energy to complete my project. If I don’t manage to keep it tame, I would not have the energy or self-confidence to continue writing (find my stuff on meekfreak.blogspot.com). Aside, I think “You’ve got mail”, the movie starring Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, illustrates the difference between taking something personally, or not, quite well.

Okay, I hope my sharing helps.

--

Kurt Vonnegut - Sometimes, life is like that.

This story was based on this picture of Kurt Vonnegut :


which is currently my computer wall paper. Thus, the story.

For those who don't know him. He's a writer of funny stories. If I were to have a writer-idol, it'd be him. Although i never read much of his stories. (i'm stupid like that.) Also, i learnt the term "scatological" from his wiki site. which means:

sca·tol·o·gy (sk-tl-j, sk-)

n. pl. sca·tol·o·gies

1. The study of fecal excrement, as in medicine, paleontology, or biology.

2.

a. An obsession with excrement or excretory functions.

b. The psychiatric study of such an obsession.

3. Obscene language or literature, especially that dealing pruriently or humorously with excrement and excretory functions.

He died from complications resulting from falling down the stairs.

I never wrote about ghosts before this (or at least never published any here, i think) though i often wld write about pple in my imagination etc. i suppose its a breakthru too, in that sense. And i thought better publish it before the 7th lunar month is here.

On "sometimes, life is like that" - this is gary's retort/reply to me to many of my questions (sometimes mundane, sometimes existential) and there's just too much greatness and truth in that not to shut up to it.

On "life is never fair, what" - it's something i always bene wanting to put in a story, actually i wrote an epilogue to "All the people imagine", but it was too violent and I didn't include it in the end. It was about how to be borned a girl = already unfair. Because i think women got the tougher lot in life, having to give birth and menstruate, etc.

Okay. that's enough trivial for a post.

(Link back to story. Which btw is usually the link from the first word of each sneak post.)

In 30 mins - I overheard the cats...

I overheard the cats was written in a hurry and I think the tone shows. Originally there was an opening para explaining why the narrator had to tell the story in a hurry, but it was quite out of place - in that it didn't give to the story - so I had it removed. Now I wonder if the rest of the story is out of place.

Wanted at first to write a Frankenstein kind of story about a mad scientist who was out to remove people's testicles and implant them into their eye sockets. But it's a bit sick and cruel and a bit too violent, so i thought to make it happen to some kind of animals instead, so that it's at least a bit cartoonish.

hm... I wrote the story in 30 minutes. I aimed to write it in 15 minutes but I think with a little bit of editing it took longer than that. Why in a hurry? I was tired it was late but thought I should try to write something anyway, so I had to spit something out.

I used to usually take 2-3 hours (sometimes much longer) to come out with a piece, with story edits... and used to revisit the stories and edit them and edit them back and everything... very very often. But recently, i think in this year, I haven't done much editing. My average timing is maybe about 1 hour to write a story. and I don't think it's because I'm more confident of my writing (actually it makes me a lot less confident), but I do feel like I can always go back and edit them somemore, when i have more time, but when i have more time, I would rather spend it on writing something new.

The jobless period has been quite fruitful and productive for me - in terms of pieces/month... and then frankly, I've forgotten a lot of what I've written... which surprises me, because I usually know my stories quite well.

So what do you do as your pastime? I used to watch the fan twist itself silly.

Part 3 of ? - Relieve

Relieve is based on my recent flu season. I've been having the sniffles every other week. In between, I'd be feeling weak from recovery.

Everytime I check on sneak, i would realise and be appalled at how long ago the last post was. I realise what keeps me from wanting to write about my writings is the linking here and there the pages that I have to do. So, I think i should just keep up the writing a bit, and then, one day when I have the mood, then I'll do a massive linking exercise.

This Relieve is one of part 3 of a death series (i dunno how many more to come), but apparently i must be feeling rather morbid lately. After a straw poll, seems that Relieve is the favourite, though it might not be my personal favourite, which might be "Would write". But relieve is the funniest of course. And when I was telling it to 2 of my good friends on Sunday, I shed tears from laughing so hard.

I actually don't believe that one would feel like choking from a piece of pee sai. but it's just a story. I'm especially proud to suddenly thought of how the body would excrete all the sai after death because the muscle relax and all that. Actually having done a brief research, not all deaths would cause the bowels to be released. Only due to some causes.

2 points.
1) on the title. Called it relieve, relieve being a sense of relieve and relieve of shit. I wanted to come up with a less act cool name, but i couldn't, and I was sleepy. Relieve also as in the relieve of the plane, ie something like gradient. So, watch the girl's neurotism escalate as we read on the story.

2) on the meaning. Choose such a stark and dirty ending, to remind us that death is absolute and dirty, but simple and unavoidable. No matter how you would try to keep your nose shit, after you die, the shit will be exploded all over the floor. Thus, the moral is to enjoy life, and just dig your nose lor, if you want.

I'm falling asleep at the computer as I'm typing this, so I'm gonna end here. take care and i do hope to write sooner.

To those who bought/buying/will buy the book

Just a note to inform you, in case you'd like to know, that $5 of the proceeds went to comm chest. Thanks.

Coach - She always carries a book in her handbag

She always carries a book in her handbag... actually inspired by a train ride home. I suppose I was listening to some light-hearted music and had no place to sit so i just people watched the office ladies (OLs) in the train... wondering if I'm just like them. counting the number of branded handbags in the train - wondering why would so many people spend so much money on just a bag - will I ever understand? Wondering if there's something wrong with the world when thousand dollar bags are so prevalent...

anyway, personally, I very often carry a book or 2 in my handbag that I don't read cos I'm more likely to try to write into a notebook - but the books are there in case I don't feel like writing then I would like to have something that I feel like reading to read.

The trivial here is the "but i still like coach leh". Coach may mean:

1.

a. A motorbus.

b. A railroad passenger car.

c. A closed automobile, usually with two doors.

d. A large, closed, four-wheeled carriage with an elevated exterior seat for the driver; a stagecoach.

2. An economical class of passenger accommodations on a commercial airplane or a train.

So, its like cute lar.

if it had a taste - emotional blackmail

Emotional blackmail was written from seeding an analogy that i used in an email to a friend - on someone being strangled by some umbilical cord - and it had something to do with emotional blackmail.

On the relevant note - would like to explicate more on the taste of abstract constructs. You see, i think if emotional blackmail had a taste it would taste like bad - watery blueberry cheesecake - that had been left outside of the fridge for too long.

Pride would taste like steel. Like the first swig from a newly opened bottle of beer that had been left on the shelf for too long such that the bottle cap has a strong taste or influence on the mouth of the bottle so it tastes like steel.

Jealousy might taste like wine - plum wine, red wine, whatever wine - that's left to air too much like it tastes a little vinegar-ish. Much truth in the chinese way of describing jealousy as eating-vinegar.

Having blisters on the feet tastes like apple cider vinegar.

Having too much work to do, and too little sleep, tastes like vomit. Vomit of someone who drank too much milo.

I like the description of the little emotional blackmail monster. freaks me out. but i think that's quite what the little emotional blackmail cherub would look like. innocent, in nature, but deformed and ...murderous?

Grandmother series

Grandmother series... a new grandmother series because thought i'd better record down the wisdom of my grandmother while they're still fresh in my memory.

Can't believe I haven't posted anything here for more than 1 month!

Brown Nose - Tom, Dick, & Harry

Tom, Dick, & Harry was based... on a conversation.

"Do you think it's like how I forget that if I've brushed my teeth, then I have to go and feel if my toothbrush is damp?"

I think this was referring to my own experience.

"Oh, right... I can see how the suspicion is completely valid... Seeing how you usually completely forget to wipe your nose when you come out of meetings with the bosses."

This is a reference to brown nosing. Which means, ass-kissing, which means disgusting flattery (usually of bosses), until one's nose is browned- due to the shit that's hanging around the ass.

That's such an explicit way of putting it... but it's for the benefit of those who don't understand what's brown-nosing and may therefore... appreciate my forthcoming manner rather than pretending to be a mermaid dancing around a cowboy's fire.

In a bimbimbap - Mary

Mary was written after my last minute trip to korea. I decided to make a dash for it before I started work. Yes, I found work. But let's not talk about work.

So, in korea, i was shitting and thought that my shit smelled very funny, or different. Then I wonder if it was because of the kimchi. Yah, that's a gross detail, but let's just admit it, please: It's more important to your life and your personal state of being to know the smell of your own shit than the name of some president half way around the world. I don't even know how to elaborate on it, becuase it's so apparent. It's like, okay, if you have kids, it's important to know the colour/smell of your baby's shit so that you'll be ganjiong when it's abnormal right? yah. so, the same for your own shit.

Then, Mary was deliberately written in the way that she sounds rather familiar/typical in the beginning portion. These details... were deliberately painting her to be seemingly normal and have the typical executive dream, though it has hints of quirkiness, so that the twist can be abrupt and shocking. One of the points I wanted to communicate here is that even though there are those who are very arrogant or look very high class, they may really be doing it for some shit reasons.

In a bimbimbap - sounds like - in a flash - with korea influences.

A trivial - i'm dozing off as I'm in front of the computer typing this.

Mary was written in about 4-5 hours.

Today? Two days before yesterday.

I was featured on Today on Tuesday for All the People Imagine. Check out the pdf article here.

李白 <<山中问答>> - no link (yet)

Haven't written an entry for sneak in sometime. So happy lunar new year to everyone and hope that everyone will be happy.

Came across this nice poem from Li Bai to share with you here.

<<山中问答>>
问余何意栖碧山，wen4 yu2 he2 yi4 qi1 bi4 shan1
笑而不答心自闲。xiao4 er2 bu4 da2 xin1 zi4 xian2
桃花流水窅然去， tiao2 hua1 liu2 shui3 yao2 ran2 qu4
别有天地非人间。bie2 you3 tian1 di4 fei1 ren2 jian1

Line by line rough explain:
1- someone asks (me) why I go live in the mountain
2- smile/laugh but don't answer. (my) heart is relax.
3- cherry blossoms fall into the flowing water and gets carried away (until I cannot see)
4- this place has a different sky and water, and is not earth, ie. like the heaven.

Personally, and egocentrically, I feel that it explains why I would want to quit my job and spend afternoons looking at the clouds or how the north wind blows everything here and there. I don't see cherry blossoms on flowing water, but say, watching the chameleon lizard run around and climb trees, and finding it again after hearing a fall or tumbling through the tree, and then see that it has caught an insect between its jaw, and distinctly hearing the sound of the crunch crunch crunch...

it's almost the same sound of fried grasshoppers between the jaws of my friends sitting next to me when we were hanging out in Thailand some years ago. I also ate grasshopper. But back then was concentrating on how disgusting it was. But now to the think of it, should have ate it and imagine that that's how a frog or lizard feels like everyday. Next time when I should meet them in dreams, then I will be able to relate to them in that different level...

What a long simile and side-track. Anyway, but to have experience the peace and delight of my heart still enough to hear the sound of the crunch of the prey of the garden lizard... is something that can really relax me on those dull-jobless-wtf-Recruit-is-3-page-long-again??-days. Like remembering the lizard at interviews will make me feel like standing up and saying, "aiyah, life is too short to be working for you la."

If people ask me why I quit my job to go and do these bo liao things, I also dun know how to answer. Tell them, "because i'm a bit siao" or "because...for the heck of it" or "to write a book", or "to take a break"? Well, all the above is true, but all the above can't accurately describe how all in all it's a good thing, so i also want to "smile and don't answer, ownself feel shiok", but because I don't want to be rude, I will say something simple, and then try to change topic.

So Li Bai's poem puts it well. I do relate to his protagonist here. If people ask me why I quit my job and go and do these bo liao things, my sincerest answer is to quote <<山中问答>> and walk away (or smile and walk away). But if I were to really do that, I'll just feel gek sey and rude also. So, you know, some things can be talked about, and never done, and left better at that. Just as how some times can't be talked about, and left better at that.

Perhaps before this experience and I read the poem or idling things liek that, I'll be like thinking, ah, very charming idyllic picture thing. but after this experience I'll feel, that it can be lived, even for a while. I hope when you're reading me waxing lyrical here about zo bo-ing, you'll feel less distance, at least i'm not from the tang dynasty.

A very important note to take if you're thinking of taking a break from work: Weather is a very important consideration for timing. eg. If you don't like rain, then don't quit during the rainy season, because you'll just be very pekchek. May is the month of great heat. December-January has good northwind. Personally, I'd recommend Dec-Jan, but xmas and newyears takes up a lot of social time. That said, do remember being jobless can also suck big time. so ya. That's life. Do whatever you want.

祝大家 笑口常开 无优无虑.

Inside jokes - The French Crow

The French Crow was written because i wanted to change my msn nick from "je m'en fous. je ne veux que chier." to "I'm bored because I'm hard to pleased", and I wanted to write a story to incorporate the french that I had learnt from a friend, so that I won't forget it.

I had wanted to write a simple situation to contextualise the french words, but I was meaning to write a story about how mynahs - as i've noticed nowadays - were flying around in pairs. Like some kind of neighbourhood watch programme. Anyway, my mind and thoughts twitched around and then I chose to write on crow instead. Somehow, in my subconscious, there was also a lady in a red dress in the background. But she wasn't addressed and perhaps, it'll be explored in the mynah story that I might one day write.

Anyway, I think "The french crow" sounds nicer than "the french mynah". The french crow, sounds like something, the french knot, the french horn, the french man? I don't know. The mynah should be malay. The malay mynah - like the malay minah you know? I don't mean to offend. I would also write a story on the chinese pigs. Oh, in fact, I might have already. My pig stories: Sus, and Uncle Hock were both based on chinese characters in my head. Though I concede that is not obvious in the stories. Fine, i'll write one someday.

The first part of the story, waking up to be frightened by a crow - was based on a nightmare I had some years ago. I dreamt that I woke up, and there was a claymation kind of crow scaring the shit wits out of me. So, recalling that, I decided to write the story with that beginning, and see how it goes.

"Je m'en fous. Je ne veux que chier." (pronounced "jer mong foo. jer ner ver ker shi-eh.") means, "I don't care. I only want to shit." I decided to leave most people wondering what that means as it was not so important to translate it in the story, and will be funnier left as an insider joke, and rewarding for people who are reading sneak... so there you have it. It's funny also because that's what the crows do, on trees, they just don't care and just shit on the cars below. It's also a marvel how being on a tree full of crows, they don't shit on each other. I mean, the chances are there right?

Anyway, thanks to laysuan (also my kusudama friend) for teaching me, abeit reluctantly, the coolest bit of french that I know. Enculé (pronounced "on cue leh") is just too vulgar to spout all the time.

Crow in French is "corneille", according to the google translator. So happens, with a dictionary search that Corneille is also Pierre Corneille who is one of the great seventeenth century french playwright. So, I just named the crow "Pierre" (pronouced "Pee-air") which is a variant of the name "Peter". Peter the crow, a black bird, reminded me of the rhyme:

"2 little black birds sitting on a wall,
One named peter, the other named paul.
Fly away peter, fly away paul.
Come back peter, come back paul."

So, the left middle finger, we decided to name paul. It's cute like that.

The rest of the story was constructed on the go. I like it because it's spontaneous, and the story developed in a way that I didn't anticipate, so I was also surprised as I was writing it.

One of my accomplishments of the week is to name my middle fingers. What have you done, huh?

Wind series - The champedek tree

The champedek tree is one of three stories that I wrote about flying in a single day. I've been moved by the winds lately.

As you may know, I've been looking for jobs and all that lately. My biggest sianness, I think, at the end of both interviews I went for, is that, the weather on that day was nice, but I was unable to enjoy the wind earlier because i was ganjionging about the interviews.

I hope that I can have the good fortune and calmness to appreciate the weather. And I hope that you have that too. Take a bit of time, to notice how the mid-day winds are blowing trees upside-down, and chasing clouds so fast across the sky. it's not like that all the time. it's a very rare thing. Notice how the clouds are wispy looking because of the wind.

Notice too, when the moon is round, and when it's waxing and waning. That it's milky/dusty/yellowy earlier in the night, but as it rises higher into the sky, it's bright white. A few nights ago, I noticed that the moon was so bright white that even when some clouds were blew to cover it, it didn't get covered but shone right true. That defies logic.

Who isn't busy and pre-occupied nowadays? Don't I have better things to do? I do! I need to look for a job. Prepare for interviews. Apply. I need to sell my book. I need to read, I need to blog, I need to eat and watch tv.

But how can you be a human and live life, if you don't spend some time to look at the moon. The moon! the moon allows us to look (not point). THe sun you can't really look, but the moon! find the rabbit. Rather than going jogging and worry about your adrenaline or your heart muscle, look at the moon! look at the stars, the clouds at night. and put up paper butterflies at your window, and romance yourself a little.

I've met a girl who was about 20 years old, when I walked past her in hall, she was starring at the moon. and i asked her, wassup. and she said, "you can see the moon, i didn't know we can see the mood". i said, "what do you mean, as in, you didn't know we can see the moon in this direction?" "no," she said, "I didn't know we can see the moon, without telescope." or something like that. I shit you not. SO, if you have kids, teach them not math, nor the dreaded spelling or mental sums. teach them to appreciate the MOON. the winds, the paper butterflies you put up at their windows.

I wanted to keep all these as little secrets to impress you next time we meet. But I don't think it's a secret to keep, but something to share. Look at the moon, and sing "somewhere out there, beneath the pale moon light, someone's thinking of... me, and loving me tonight". And be happy that we're not Seng Han Thong, or Palestinians watching the sky raining bombs or Isrealis, fighting a war, fending off protestors around the world.

Read somewhere lately, that world peace lies with the individual. Only when every individual believes in the concept and values "world peace", then will world peace be lived.

Current affairs, personal opinions - The Elephants' Tusks

The Elephants' Tusks was based on:

1) The warring in the middle east. And how a way of supremacy of the religion is exemplified by the tolerance of the people. I have many thoughts about tolerance and it being an underrated virtue.
Maybe the westernised world would emphasis a lot about go-getting and not getting yourself bullied, and very individualistic ideals. But tolerance would bring about graciousness. I personally think believe that instead of campaigns promoting graciousness and Stomp being the society's not-so-secret police, they promote tolerance instead, then we'll all be more gracious. It's not gracious to kaopei about others not being gracious. But when one tolerates another ungraciousness, as opposed to being self-righteous, then one would be inclined not to act in the same way. and... so on. Anyway, that's another theory for another time.

The warring in the middle east. I wanted to write a story where in an alternate world, there's peace in the middle east.

2) And that even if there's peace, there will be disorder again. Peace and disorder, will play and interject each other. The rise and fall of civilisations. blah blah. it's something that will continue to happen, whether obama or mccain become president. Current affairs - are current and not perpetual. Learning it to have conversations at the water cooler is like watching korean drama to have conversations about korean drama. Or joining facebook, to talk about what's happening on facebook. That's what I always feel about current affairs, and will be pekchek when people ask me to brush up on my current affairs, because it really doesn't interest me what, except juicy details like, why mccain go and choose palin - which is as entertaining to wonder about as watching Yes Man by jim carrey.

Anyway, whether the snail/slugs die out or not, it's a passing matter, in the very macrospect. Like how the wiping out of an ant hill is very trivial, when we're kids on an ant massacre. Or it could be very big deal - to an ant.

3) Read a story from zhuang zi, on nations being on snail's antennae, which I quote, violating copyright laws, from here:

(King) Yung of Wei made a treaty with the marquis Thien Mâu (of Khî), which the latter violated. The king was enraged, and intended to send a man to assassinate him...

Hui-tsze...introduced to the king Tâi Tsin-zan, who said, 'There is the creature called a snail; does your majesty know it?' 'I do.' 'On the left horn of the snail there is a kingdom which is called Provocation, and on the right horn another which is called Stupidity. These two kingdoms are continually striving about their territories and fighting. The corpses that lie on the ground amount to several myriads. The army of one may be defeated and put to flight, but in fifteen days it will return.' The king said, 'Pooh! that is empty talk!' The other rejoined, 'Your servant begs to show your majesty its real significance. When your majesty thinks of space-- east, west, north, and south, above and beneath-- can you set any limit to it?' 'It is illimitable,' said the king; and his visitor went on, 'Your majesty knows how to let your mind thus travel through the illimitable, and yet (as compared with this) does it not seem insignificant whether the kingdoms that communicate one with another exist or not?' The king replies, 'It does so;' and Tâi Tsin-zan said, finally, 'Among those kingdoms, stretching one after another, there is this Wei; in Wei there is this (city of) Liang; and in Liang there is your majesty. Can you make any distinction between yourself, and (the king of that kingdom of) Stupidity?' To this the king answered, 'There is no distinction,' and his visitor went out, while the king remained disconcerted and seemed to have lost himself.

I thought about saying that that slug/snails are peace-loving because their antennae housed warring nations. but the story just didnt' turn out liek that.

Now, talking about the elephants tusks doesn't seem that original as compared to a snail's antennae right? I think about changing the elephants back to snails and snails to somethign else, but the story won't flow anymore. The snails don't have trunks. and they won't need to feed each other. so... i suppose my story took a different direction already.

4) Watched man in black on tv again, and the idea of universes being as small as a marble on a cat's collar made me feel that there can be universes with elephants and little animals living on them, and so on. Where is the world of little elephants? maybe in the dirt in my toe nail.
Relevant to the big-small thing as in point 2.

Happy new year to all~.