Prologue: "Quite down, you're too loud."

About more than a month ago, I went for this gig at BlueJaz bar. It was my first exposure to live jazzy tunes and it was simply superb. The performance was further beautifully intricate with the vocals of Charlie Lim. You have to give this guy a hand, he can hold you mesmerised with his deep tones.

Little did I know, Jazz had put a charm on me. The way I put it, the instruments revive its traditional roles, and that is to compliment the vocals. Moreover, they string the whole performance with emancipated wholesome goodness without overpowering the vocals. And that bass IS SO SEDUCTIVE. BAHHHH.

Simply amazing.

I would have to thank the heavens above for that gig. It was pure luck that I was able to catch that gig. And, had not for that gig, I wouldn't be as motivated I am right now. Figure that a string of events, both fortunate and unfortunate, took it's effort to turn the cogs of fate. The thing is, I don't know what kind of fate it's turning into.

Have Charlie Lim a listen if you'd like to sprinkle some jazz onto your music servings at his Soundcloud page. (https://soundcloud.com/charlielim)

Premium and Genuine.

Sink deep fast. Adaptability is key. From the recent studies, it appears otherwise. Our priorities have shifted, our needs have changed, our focus has been realigned. Last week, I spent my Sunday with my most jovial friends from the polytechnic days. We seem to grow closer as time passes even if we don't see each other everyday. The hours we put is don't qualify our friendship as friends, but we share our stories like we have known for long. That is, in fact, true.

It seems like a staple table topic to fill each's ears with stories of our loves. And it piqued me initially for I always say the same old story. New girls, but the same old story.

And a thought skirted me while I play my same scenes in these meetups. I thought of bringing it up but I definitely would not want to spoil this soup. And now, I have it in my mind. And hopefully, this comes of well.

While we romanticise the woman in our lives, the actual truth is that we are doing our greatest con ever.

It looks that we are proving our worth to her. It looks that we are signalling our purpose and our reasons. Then, why must we feel so disdained when our efforts are turned down? Simply put that we would naturally feel "fucked all over" if our project work we dedicate so long goes into the recycling bin. It IS the natural reaction. But my argument stems into the origins of this natural feeling.

If we really want to do it, even if we fail it once, twice or a bazillion times, it would not matter. Our dedication, perseverance, commitment, passion supersedes failures. Simply put, if you want her, you will do whatever it takes to win her.

Though dozen will contest this and say that, "YES, do whatever it takes. WHATEVER." So even if it consists of lying and faking things? Is that what true love is?

Heck, what do I know about this lovey dove stuff.

I just say that these efforts are treated with ingenuity and insincerity. We are too focused in letting her know that we want her and forget what we really are doing. If I really love you, I figure I'll prove it in person. Paper romance is amateur. Actions speak louder than words. In this result-dominated World treated with constant instant-information dosages, we get too impatient when things go slow.

Premium and genuine feelings; "I will make you special because I really want you." are some words so elusive in this life.

Sky's falling. Wake up.

Come back while you can. If not, find a purpose, think. If not, rind a reason, do. We live our lives too ideally. We want this and that but forget the small things in life that makes a huge difference. Why?

I must start appreciating the things in life. But this purpose is juvenile and lacking. It makes me a turtle, slow and hardly leaving the comforts of home. So I must start being hungry. Always wanting to progress and finding challenges and dishing out results. But this purpose makes me exhaustive.

WHAT I NEED TO BE IS BOTH. Couple my acts with humbleness and constant improving, I should be king. Then again, the point is not to be king. The point is for the heart to be gold. If I can't make mine gold, how can I help others to it?

I lost myself, they say. I am selfish, he says. I get the better of myself, we all say. Admitting these, I understand this plight. But I must contest that I do for the right reasons. These days, you lose yourself to make remind where you come from. These days, we become selfish, for the right reasons. These days, you get the better, to be better.

Think with purpose, do with reason. Else, your sky will be falling. 

FAKE.

Don't wanna take a chance on your paper romance anyway. It's all fake.

I'll Eat my Candy with My Pork and Beans

I do not feel comfortable here. Then again, I was not suppose to be comfortable here. The people that surround me begin to peel away their real lies. They start being themselves. This marks of me losing myself. I have to admit, they make the best lies I've seen.

I just want to break you down so badly in the worst way. Something that resides in true horror should be left dead. Some want to torture but I'm humane in the most inhumane way. The best way is to stay away, else you'll be leaving with a fat lip. Sad thing is, I'll be hunting every one of them down.

Such a horrid experience. In front of me, the demolition of a simple society. It's not collapsing naturally. It's being demolished, BRICK BY BRICK. Strange thing is, they call this a 'natural' demolition. Though I have spent time dismantling the most of intangible things, I can't wrap my head around something so simple, working together.

So I was right, people are selfish for themselves. They think they deserve the best. They think it's their right. They think they are king. Please, for Heaven's sake, throw these mindsets away. Work WITH US. Talk WITH US. Understand WITH US.

And just because we are too fearful to lay it all open, we can't live on. Such imbeciles.

Lunch.

Like a pike pierced my throat, I am caught without words again. Someone wants me silenced, and he got it his way, for now. My body is bent but my mind is king. He is immortal in this space and time.

Of the notion of body, mind and soul in unison, it is becoming a lie. 3 entities are 3 entities however similar they are. The only time they become one is when it is a single entity duplicated 3 times.

They are not the same. Get that straight first. What they are is a great ballet of synchronised pirouette, balanced steps and gentle motions. The great symphony of acts make these 3 entities a tool of sheer power. They make a man beyond machine, human and sometimes, God.

But I've never seen anyone perfect it. I've only seen scores of mortals using it and fail. Only some that are crazy enough, stupid enough, determined enough have this unique ability at their disposal. But they no longer become what society is comfortable with.

So lose your mental compass. Delve into where no one wishes to be. But then again, how can you we achieve greatness if you don't want to pay for it?

There is no free lunch in this World.

Mellon.

I think in every angst teenager's playlist should be Smashing Pumpkin's Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. It seems only right that this album deserves its place in there. I figure that this is my 5th time listening/humming/imagining the songs this few months. Maybe some might consider this the music that most suicide cases start of by.

Not saying that I am angst or suicidal, that is.

It's been quite some time since I've zone out on a piece of work with music that just seem to bring me forth. Seems that I appreciate my work more with songs of nonsensical lyrics, heavy drums, freakish guitar riffs and deafening bass. Maybe someone should do a science paper on this. Or maybe, it's the same as how listening to symphony increases focus. Hmm.

SO I AM LEAVING in 4 weeks. I am leaving this government-funded 'factory' and starting another whole new leg of this thing we call service. Probably I would be covering premises of Changi Airport. Maybe I could ride in the Ang Chia to respond to any internal threat. Or what about scouring the MRTs? And maybe, JUST MAYBE, I would finally wear that white sleeves with 2 blue stripes on my shoulders.

But that's 4 weeks from now, it's still quite some time. I can't really say I am eager to move on. Besides, I am moving on to something of an uncertainty. And that is one thing I dislike the most. But one thing is for sure, 4 weeks will come.