The Gentleman and the Player

I know I shouldn't be thinking about you. It's been a long time since my mind has been filled by one woman alone. Usually the object of my desire is vague, imaginary, molded and shaped to fit my emotions as I see fit. It's unfamiliar, frightening really. I hate to think that I've lost control of where my mind goes, like an archer who has lost his focus on the bulls eye.

I know deep down inside you can't be The One. So many things can go wrong dating a woman like you, even if you claim to be a Christian. I'm so sure of that, yet we haven't even gone out even once. I have nothing but your number and the memory of how you charmed me that fateful night, when I least expected it.

The rational, religious side of me, usually so dominant and in control is suddenly drowned out by a torrent of emotions buried far too long. My only salvation lies in the fact that you aren't replying my messages anymore. God usually ensures that the doors to all paths He does not want me to go down are shut in my face to leave no trace of doubt; a necessary move to eradicate the headstrong, stubborn nature in me. My pride seals the door shut; I won't communicate with you anymore than you want to with me.

And so it ends there.

Yet one tiny part of me still secretly hopes you'd reply me, the part of me that reaches for my Blackberry every time the little orange light flickers. It's a nostalgic feeling of teenage anxiety coupled with childish impatience. The fodder is only added when I consider the possibility of being emotionally manipulated into waiting till the very last minute.

I further entertain the thought of the Gentleman's code of conduct steep within me, to avoid the Player's Game, the Bad Boy manoeuvres, the Mr. Darcy attitude which have proven themselves so loyal and true.


But then again, being a Gentleman has never brought me anywhere. Yet this time, I can only simply wait until my heart calms down and I move along with life again.


Alone.

Ego

My ego is not big enough to perceive myself as God's gift to all womankind.

But it's large enough to think I'm good enough for that one special woman who loves God so very much to trust Him to produce a dream partner for her.

But with such a mentality, my singleness can only mean that I'm not good enough to be a dream partner, or my partner is not good enough yet.

My ego helps me maintain the legibility of the former belief, because only with such arrogance can I ever expect to improve myself with sheer determination and self-will. I'm never good enough, I need to aim for perfection, and as such no one can possibility be good enough for me.


You won't believe how an inferiority complex drives action so prideful that the final result is simply loneliness and misery.

Then again, perfection cannot comprise of these unacceptable elements. And therefore, I take a deep breath, submerge these emotions under my conscience, and tell God to take a break from being my crutch.

-

Saw a picture of you today.  You look so thin, so frail, so... helpless.

It took me whatever remaining willpower that I had left from the day to just pull my eyes away from the photo.  How I long to hold you in my arms, to shield you from the world, to assure you softly that everything will be alright...

Then I realize, after so long, you're still haunting me.  And I have only myself to blame.  Swamping myself with work to drown out that inner voice within me ever gently coaxing me to let go, let go.

Let go.  Oh me, please let go.

Hey There Lonely Girl

Hey there lonely girl, lonely girl
Let me make your broken heart like new
Oh, my lonely girl, lonely girl
Don't you know this lonely boy loves you

Ever since he broke your heart you seem so lost
Each time you pass my way
How I long to take your hand
And say don't cry, I'll kiss your tears away

Hey there lonely girl, lonely girl
Let me make your broken heart like new
Oh my lonely girl, lonely girl
don't you know this lonely boy loves you

You think that only his two lips can kiss your lips
And make your heart stand still
But once you're in my arms you'll see
No one can kiss your lips the way I will

Hey there lonely girl, lonely girl
Let me make your broken heart like new
Oh, my lonely girl, lonely girl
Don't you know this lonely girl loves you
Oh my lonely girl, lonely girl
Don't you know this lonely boy loves you

-

Happy birthday... to me. +)

Where the Streets Have No Name

I would like to dance
Where the streets have no names
Where the band never sleeps
And their voices complete
The aroma of morning dew oh so sweet

A world with no distractions
No noises, no contagions
No wars and whatnots with their joy-draining conceptions
Every corner a French bakery
A candy store, an old jukebox
And a sofa with a pot
of hot, lovely Chinese tea!

Everyone a potential lover
No lust for no race
Much less for one's gender
Just the remnants of mankind's once familiar desire
From a time when passion
Governed our senses
Was it only yesterday?
When we could tell apart, camaraderies
And our deepest, secret intimacies.

I would like to dance
Where the streets have no names

Better to Be Lonely Than To Ever Loved

Just for one moment in the dark, I felt loved again. By another vulnerable creature, who gave everything she had. But as quickly as she came, she was gone.

I spent the rest of the night relieving an ancient pain, one that sears not only the body but whose destruction rips opens one's soul, leaving it bare for decomposition. It did not matter that I had an entire king-sized bed to myself; on the contrary, it made the emptiness deeper. Time crawled by, and finally sunlight pierced through the hotel's curtains, dividing the blackness and separating the night.

I swore that glass promise to myself once again, never to let myself fall in love. No, not even for a brief moment.

For they will all leave, taking with them fragments of one's heart as a woman grabs her diamonds whilst fleeing an approaching tsunami.

And the waves will not cleanse the pain, but instead leave behind a trail of devastation beyond one's God-given capacity to contain.


I have locked up my heart in a Swiss bank account and burnt the logs. What remains to be done is to hum a melancholic ballad tune and fling the keys into the silence from the peak of the ice-crowned, snow-bleeding Matterhorn.

Househusband

I find it extremely strange that it is in such a prestigious institution which hires so many of Singapore's smartest people where I actually find so many male colleagues who want to be... househusbands.

Weird, this "gender equality" thing. Well, I have much to thank God for. He's answered so many of my prayers (even though most of them are technically wishes and not prayers). I just pray that my busy traveling schedule and long working hours will not take away the time spent with Him.

Onwards to greater things!

Midnight Quarrel, No Thanks to Love

Was distributing flyers around the neighborhood when I overheard a man and a woman quarreling downstairs near the letter boxes where I was at.

Despite the limitations to my proficiency in Chinese dialects, I could tell it was a quarrel between husband and wife about money. Think the lady was involved in drugs and/or gambling, and was borrowing money to feed her addiction, only to have an affair with one of the men who has been lending her money and buying her dresses (from those red plastic bag, thrift stores too). Apparently, her husband has been working quite hard, and given his dressing and language, did not seem to be highly educated.

As I watched him pushed her around, shouting at the top of his voice past the midnight hour, I couldn't help but feel my heart sinking as I tried to speed up the pace on my own job. With her stoically remaining silent, it wasn't too long before he started pushing her around, until she fell to the floor quite hard. Not surprisingly, the police came within a few minutes, and the man was given a stern warning whereas the lady disappeared.

Although in no way do I advocate violence towards women, I can't help but feel sorry for the guy. Here he is, working his guts out and giving his wife money, and there she is spending it away and going for another guy.

Of course, I don't have all the details. I only write what I hear. But its little excerpts like this in my life that make me feel contemporary romantic love is so complicated, it might be an experience I should avoid. Just to save me all the heartache.

I used to think that I will never find a woman who could love me.

Now I don't think I will ever find a woman I could love that much.

Women Want Rich Husbands

Razor TV: Despite the feminist's struggle for women to get out of the home and into the corporate world, some women would rather want a rich husband to fall back on.


Duh.

Timely Answers

A day after the below blog post and...

I'm on to round 3!! +)

Praise the Lord!!!!!

The Next Step

I haven't been blogging here for quite a while, I realize. Been busy with the new blog, neglected my personal one. Hah.

Right now will be exactly a week before Andrew goes to Australia for his studies. Was a great farewell BBQ party last night, organized by his buddies Haryanto and Simon. Another awesome lunch at Ding Tai Fung with a bunch of the younger youths in the afternoon who wanted to give him a goodbye treat.

I guess I'm a little envious of the fact that he will be going overseas to study. I've always wanted to do something like that myself, especially when my ego is constantly questioning my "apparent dependence" on my parents. Been longing to have my own room, own space, own time for a long, long time, but I'm burdened by a heavy sense of responsibility to ensure that my parents are not lonely and that the family has sufficient money to give Nick a similar opportunity to study overseas.

I haven't been going out much during the last two weeks (except to the gym), and thus spending very little. I'm still hoping for Chinese New Year to come soon, so at least I can top up my EZ-link card to go gym. Walking is a viable option, but it's still a 20-minute journey at brisk-walking pace. Ironically, staying at home so much has fostered laziness in me to blog.

I hope the MFA gets back to me on the results of the second round soon. To be honest, besides the social status and the fact that the pay will help get Nick to university, I don't exactly feel drawn to the job. Many people have been telling me that if you're not some scholar-material, you're just inside to do the work that no one wants to do. Personally, I hate it when I'm not being utilized to the maximum. Makes me feel like I'm wasting my time.

I've been toying with an idea for some time. Should I not get the jobs of my choice, I would like to go teach English in Banchang, Thailand. Most people who know my working style have been encouraging me to be a teacher, but I've made it pretty clear that I don't like teaching students who are only learning for the sake of examinations. Teaching English in Thailand however, a different issue altogether. The language will actually help bring higher-level jobs to the countryside, or at least increase the value of these students when they eventually go out to work.

The slow pace of lifestyle will also mean that I can afford a bicycle and travel around the neighboring towns, learning about changing third-world lifestyles in the face of rapid development. I can partner factory owners to ensure ethical and sustainable industrial processes, learn entrepreneurship from the local shop owners, and even minister to the Thai Christians over there. The idea of having a blog or Twitter feed that can broadcast my updates back to friends and supporters back at home is also incredibly attractive, especially if they inspire creative ideas to improve the Thai's life. I won't need much monetary support too, probably about S$1000/month would be sufficient.

Sigh. But it's all day-dreaming I guess. The pressure of status-anxiety among my peers, the family's financial vacuum and my parents' well-being are all obstacles that have to be overcome. The only concrete step taken is to pick up Thai from David, who's been so kind as to teach me the language at express speed through weekly lessons.

However, the thought of toiling in a job which does not utilize my talents and worse still, brings no meaning to my life, is a terrible thought. But then again, isn't that reality for most people in the Third World?



One thing you lack. Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me. -Jesus (Mark 10:21)

Un-Moving

I guess I'm not moving in the end. It was too much of a hassle to shift to tumblr, and from experience I write way too much to justify the templates used in a micro-blogging site like Tumblr.

So I decided to spend a full day revamping the blog, getting rid of little bugs, adding the comments function and removing the little vanity things like visitor counters and personal profile. There is a peace of mind when writing under anonymity, although readers who actually bother to sieve through the entire archive might piece together who I am.

But I'm staying, and not going anywhere. Appreciate all comments to improve this website for His glory!

Moving

Haven't blogged for the longest time. Seems like I've transited a little too far into micro-blogging, specifically, Twitter.

Considering moving the entire library of thoughts to tumblr. Will keep everyone updated soon.

Couple Dynamics

From stereotypes to basic assumptions. I'm quite sure majority of Singaporeans think this way.


Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder, but far too many third-parties are having an influence on the perception.


I must endeavor to stick to my own.

Poverty and Temptation

Sometimes, I feel so weak to temptation that the only thing that stands in my way is my own sheer poverty. You won't believe some of the most regrettable things I would do if I had some to spare.

Nope, I don't even believe it myself.



What a sad way to start the new year.


Poverty is the schoolmaster of character. -Antiphanes