My dog, Pepper, got hit by a car 2 weeks ago, under the care of my ex. I only got to find out yesterday.
When he told me, I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. The only thing going in my head was why didn't he tell me earlier?
I wanted to blame him for Pepper's death. If I had taken care of our dog, she would still be alive. But I know it's not his fault.
Pepper is buried somewhere in Cheras. I want to see her so badly. Maybe just hug her one last time, scratch her ears, or just play catch with her.
I miss her so much. And I know she loved me back. I just wish I could say goodbye.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
If I Could
Some people say this with force.
Some people say this with humour.
But I say this with sincerity.
A few months ago, a couple of friends and I sat down and enjoyed our mixed cocktails of beer and whiskey when a question suddenly popped up which stunned everyone into a couple of minutes of silence.
The question was, "What do you think your purpose in life is?"
As we went around the table, answering perhaps the most illogical and unexplainable question, I sat there quietly and wondered how was I going to put my feelings into words. I heard answers which amused and interested me, such as "being put into this life to make people laugh" or "I believe I was born in this life to go through karma which I had collected over the lifetimes".
When my turn came, I could not put my feelings into actual sentences. But I tried.
As cheesy as it sounds, I feel like this is my purpose. I was given a life that some people would kill to have. Maybe it is middle-class guilt, the fact that I was lucky to be born into this life but I am also given the chance to grow up and help people in whichever unselfish way I can.
Whenever I register an asylum seeker at my workplace, I feel better.
Whenever I meet someone who cannot afford to pay their rent, their food nor provide for their family and I refer them to someone who can provide them with financial assistance, I feel better.
Whenever I go against the system and vouch for asylum seekers to get registered, I feel better.
To think that in life, I am given the opportunity to do so. I believe that anyone could make a difference; even the smallest would contribute to a considerable amount.
Now if you could make a difference, what would you do?
Or perhaps I should ask, what do you think your purpose in life is?
Some people say this with humour.
But I say this with sincerity.
A few months ago, a couple of friends and I sat down and enjoyed our mixed cocktails of beer and whiskey when a question suddenly popped up which stunned everyone into a couple of minutes of silence.
The question was, "What do you think your purpose in life is?"
As we went around the table, answering perhaps the most illogical and unexplainable question, I sat there quietly and wondered how was I going to put my feelings into words. I heard answers which amused and interested me, such as "being put into this life to make people laugh" or "I believe I was born in this life to go through karma which I had collected over the lifetimes".
When my turn came, I could not put my feelings into actual sentences. But I tried.
I felt like my purpose in this life is to make a change for the better. With the utmost sincerity, I hope I could make a large difference in people's lives.
As cheesy as it sounds, I feel like this is my purpose. I was given a life that some people would kill to have. Maybe it is middle-class guilt, the fact that I was lucky to be born into this life but I am also given the chance to grow up and help people in whichever unselfish way I can.
Whenever I register an asylum seeker at my workplace, I feel better.
Whenever I meet someone who cannot afford to pay their rent, their food nor provide for their family and I refer them to someone who can provide them with financial assistance, I feel better.
Whenever I go against the system and vouch for asylum seekers to get registered, I feel better.
To think that in life, I am given the opportunity to do so. I believe that anyone could make a difference; even the smallest would contribute to a considerable amount.
Now if you could make a difference, what would you do?
Or perhaps I should ask, what do you think your purpose in life is?
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Mad About Food
Malaysia.
A city that never sleeps.
Filled with restaurants, each one better than the next, some might call Malaysia the food heaven. Dieters call it hell.
Well, there's one particular restaurant that has caught my attention and I've been dying to try; Mad About Pizza. Although I'm disgusted by the thought of global chain conglomerate restaurants such as Pizza Hut, I love myself a good big cheesy pizza.
This quaint restaurant located in Kota Damansara (the square of shop lots near Ikea/Ikano/The Curve) looks amazing. Their Menu on their website makes me salivate and dream about a big pan of Mushroom Feast. Mmmm!
You can visit their website at http://madaboutpizza.com.my
Another restaurant that I have my eyes set on trying is the churrascaria restaurant called Bom Brazil. I'm a sucker for good buffets and with my Chinese blood boiling in me, buffets are "super value" when it's all meat. I fell in love with churrascaria restaurants after my trip to Singapore back in 2008. I went to a restaurant called Carnivore and as the name implies, I was masticating on plates of juicy meat. Yum yum.
Oh. The thought of good food right now is almost unbearable. I must feed on something...
Or someone.
Disclaimer: I'm not being paid for writing about these restaurants (although I should *hint to future restaurant owners who want a little bit of online advertising but is too cheap to pay for an ad on the online newspaper so you invite bloggers to eat in your restaurant for a cheap price so they would blog and rave about it and you get a deal on advertising with minimal expenses). These little reviews are the rantings and cravings of a Polarbear. End Disclaimer.
A city that never sleeps.
Filled with restaurants, each one better than the next, some might call Malaysia the food heaven. Dieters call it hell.
Well, there's one particular restaurant that has caught my attention and I've been dying to try; Mad About Pizza. Although I'm disgusted by the thought of global chain conglomerate restaurants such as Pizza Hut, I love myself a good big cheesy pizza.
This quaint restaurant located in Kota Damansara (the square of shop lots near Ikea/Ikano/The Curve) looks amazing. Their Menu on their website makes me salivate and dream about a big pan of Mushroom Feast. Mmmm!
You can visit their website at http://madaboutpizza.com.my
Another restaurant that I have my eyes set on trying is the churrascaria restaurant called Bom Brazil. I'm a sucker for good buffets and with my Chinese blood boiling in me, buffets are "super value" when it's all meat. I fell in love with churrascaria restaurants after my trip to Singapore back in 2008. I went to a restaurant called Carnivore and as the name implies, I was masticating on plates of juicy meat. Yum yum.
Oh. The thought of good food right now is almost unbearable. I must feed on something...
Or someone.
Disclaimer: I'm not being paid for writing about these restaurants (although I should *hint to future restaurant owners who want a little bit of online advertising but is too cheap to pay for an ad on the online newspaper so you invite bloggers to eat in your restaurant for a cheap price so they would blog and rave about it and you get a deal on advertising with minimal expenses). These little reviews are the rantings and cravings of a Polarbear. End Disclaimer.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Fly High...Sky High!
Places that I have visited and would want to go again:
1) Taiwan
2) Thailand
3) Hong Kong
4) Shanghai/Shen Zhen
5) London
6) France
7) Indonesia
8) Singapore (hmm...then again...)
Place that I have visited and would never return (even if there's 1,000,000 dollars in it for me):
1) Cambodia (Scammers galore)
2) Prague (The most depressing country during winter)
3) Dubai (Nothing but sand in butt cracks)
4) Australia (Did someone mention racists?)
Places I would love to visit in the following couple of years:
1) Canada
2) Rome
3) Greece
4) South Korea
5) The rest of China
6) Portugal (I would love to meet my Figo)
7) Brazil
1) Taiwan
2) Thailand
3) Hong Kong
4) Shanghai/Shen Zhen
5) London
6) France
7) Indonesia
8) Singapore (hmm...then again...)
Place that I have visited and would never return (even if there's 1,000,000 dollars in it for me):
1) Cambodia (Scammers galore)
2) Prague (The most depressing country during winter)
3) Dubai (Nothing but sand in butt cracks)
4) Australia (Did someone mention racists?)
Places I would love to visit in the following couple of years:
1) Canada
2) Rome
3) Greece
4) South Korea
5) The rest of China
6) Portugal (I would love to meet my Figo)
7) Brazil
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
The Invisible Man
Another year.
Another break-up.
Is it even possible to maintain a monogamous relationship in this day and age?
I was in a serious relationship for 4 months, 2 of which I spent half drunk and half not bothered and the rest I spent sober with heated arguments. I used to think I loved this guy, but as the time ticked away, I could not see a future with him.
When I'm in a relationship, I would dream of a future with the man I'm with, an apartment in Damansara Heights, a bed together, a car which we can't afford because of our measly salaries, a wedding in Canada during autumn. At this point I need to remind you readers, that yes I do have a dick and a pair.
With Lester (not his real name), I could not see anything. Sometimes I would think to myself, why am I with him? Feelings for him are there, but I don't think I would go to the extent of calling it "love". Then I thought to myself, why should I spend time with a guy I don't love? Is it because I'm already used to his presence?
I needed time to figure out, so I did a one week trial where I hardly contacted him and analyzed our relationship from every angle possible. After what seemed like hell throughout the week of him trying to pick fights with me and me not communicating with him, I decided it was time to end things.
He decided to bring everything I left at his place back to me, which was initially my fault as I did tell him I wanted things to be black and white, my things are mine and his things are his. I am a guy like that, I like lines to be drawn.
I did hurt him.
And I'm not proud of it.
As I looked into his eyes, I could see that he was burnt by me. I could tell by the way that he told me he was now dating other men.
Is it possible, through all my experiences of dating men, through all the experiences of getting hurt, through all the tears I spent crying over lost loves, are channeled through my new dating persona?
Someone wise once told me that through experience comes growth. But growth in a horizontal way, or vertically? Good or bad? Halal or non-halal?
With all these dating experiences tucked away in my pocket, have I turned into a soulless being who cannot feel the hurt of other people? Am I that jaded?
All I can think of aren't the answers, but instead;
How cliche to analyze oneself after break-ups.
Another break-up.
Is it even possible to maintain a monogamous relationship in this day and age?
I was in a serious relationship for 4 months, 2 of which I spent half drunk and half not bothered and the rest I spent sober with heated arguments. I used to think I loved this guy, but as the time ticked away, I could not see a future with him.
When I'm in a relationship, I would dream of a future with the man I'm with, an apartment in Damansara Heights, a bed together, a car which we can't afford because of our measly salaries, a wedding in Canada during autumn. At this point I need to remind you readers, that yes I do have a dick and a pair.
With Lester (not his real name), I could not see anything. Sometimes I would think to myself, why am I with him? Feelings for him are there, but I don't think I would go to the extent of calling it "love". Then I thought to myself, why should I spend time with a guy I don't love? Is it because I'm already used to his presence?
I needed time to figure out, so I did a one week trial where I hardly contacted him and analyzed our relationship from every angle possible. After what seemed like hell throughout the week of him trying to pick fights with me and me not communicating with him, I decided it was time to end things.
He decided to bring everything I left at his place back to me, which was initially my fault as I did tell him I wanted things to be black and white, my things are mine and his things are his. I am a guy like that, I like lines to be drawn.
I did hurt him.
And I'm not proud of it.
As I looked into his eyes, I could see that he was burnt by me. I could tell by the way that he told me he was now dating other men.
Is it possible, through all my experiences of dating men, through all the experiences of getting hurt, through all the tears I spent crying over lost loves, are channeled through my new dating persona?
Someone wise once told me that through experience comes growth. But growth in a horizontal way, or vertically? Good or bad? Halal or non-halal?
With all these dating experiences tucked away in my pocket, have I turned into a soulless being who cannot feel the hurt of other people? Am I that jaded?
All I can think of aren't the answers, but instead;
How cliche to analyze oneself after break-ups.
Friday, May 8, 2009
I'm Not Dead...Yet.
It's been too long since my last posting and I've decided to give blogging another go.
Work with the UN is quite hectic and work never seem to end. But on a light note, surprisingly I got a letter from a refugee the other day with my name written on it. I almost never get snail mail and it was a pleasant surprise for me that day. The only catch is, I was not allowed to open it (in case it contained trace amounts of anthrax or unleash a new strain of herpes, etc), but still it was a little funny.
These past few months have been tiring. With less than a good ample 8 hours sleep a night, my eye bags have turned into humongous garbage bags. Trash anyone?
Ah right. I got a new tattoo as well. I'm quite sure a few people have seen it since I've been proudly parading it around with my sleeves rolled up in an awful fashion. It is fashion faux pas, but if you got it, flaunt it.
Things have been exciting these couple of days, with my ex-lecturer getting arrested under the Sedition (need I say stupid?) Act and groups having vigils and protests. I wish I had attended at least one, but being a silly gay boy, I went for my gym class instead.
I am also very proud of the Monash students for organizing the protest against WCH's arrest. Kudos to ML. I am upset at myself for not turning up for the event. Work is not an excuse, although it is mine.
The same day, during the Perak State Assembly, I could feel the electricity in the air as I was refreshing The Edge's website every 5 minutes to catch a good friend of mine posting updates live from Perak.
As I have not exactly been politically active these couple of months, I miss the adrenaline rush I used to get when going to protests and vigils; the air would suddenly turn cold when something was going to happen and you would not know what would happen until it hits you or when people start running. Bringing the "Protest Bag" consisting of small bags of salt, plastic bags, a towel and the Malaysian Flag.
Sigh.
The only consolence I have for myself is the thought that there is definitely more to come...
Work with the UN is quite hectic and work never seem to end. But on a light note, surprisingly I got a letter from a refugee the other day with my name written on it. I almost never get snail mail and it was a pleasant surprise for me that day. The only catch is, I was not allowed to open it (in case it contained trace amounts of anthrax or unleash a new strain of herpes, etc), but still it was a little funny.
These past few months have been tiring. With less than a good ample 8 hours sleep a night, my eye bags have turned into humongous garbage bags. Trash anyone?
Ah right. I got a new tattoo as well. I'm quite sure a few people have seen it since I've been proudly parading it around with my sleeves rolled up in an awful fashion. It is fashion faux pas, but if you got it, flaunt it.
Things have been exciting these couple of days, with my ex-lecturer getting arrested under the Sedition (need I say stupid?) Act and groups having vigils and protests. I wish I had attended at least one, but being a silly gay boy, I went for my gym class instead.
I am also very proud of the Monash students for organizing the protest against WCH's arrest. Kudos to ML. I am upset at myself for not turning up for the event. Work is not an excuse, although it is mine.
The same day, during the Perak State Assembly, I could feel the electricity in the air as I was refreshing The Edge's website every 5 minutes to catch a good friend of mine posting updates live from Perak.
As I have not exactly been politically active these couple of months, I miss the adrenaline rush I used to get when going to protests and vigils; the air would suddenly turn cold when something was going to happen and you would not know what would happen until it hits you or when people start running. Bringing the "Protest Bag" consisting of small bags of salt, plastic bags, a towel and the Malaysian Flag.
Sigh.
The only consolence I have for myself is the thought that there is definitely more to come...
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Public-action
It's been a while since I've updated my blog. Mostly because I've been brain-dead everyday when I come back from work and since I face the computer daily typing in bio-data and verifying candidates, I do not want to spend the rest of my time facing a computer.
It's been good so far. I've never thought being away from a computer would be liberating.
I've recently been asked to send in a short story for possible publication. I haven't exactly gotten very far but I have a basic idea of what I want to write and how I want to write it. I spent the first half of yesterday writing lines and erasing them cause they were so trivial and boring.
I realized trying to transform an experience into words is hard, especially when you're trying desperately to hide the fact that it is your very own experience. I've been trying to tackle this angle by writing in a third person point of view but as a memoir. I suppose if it is not written correctly, it would fail miserably.
I'm hoping that my editors would like it, but knowing their artsy fartsy mentality, they would probably laugh at my feeble attempt to write.
Whilst I digress from writing, I've contacted Borneo Ink in hopes of getting a new tattoo. Once I get it, I'll discuss more about it.
As for now, it's back to the drawing board...and work tomorrow.
Monday blues always get the best of me.
It's been good so far. I've never thought being away from a computer would be liberating.
I've recently been asked to send in a short story for possible publication. I haven't exactly gotten very far but I have a basic idea of what I want to write and how I want to write it. I spent the first half of yesterday writing lines and erasing them cause they were so trivial and boring.
I realized trying to transform an experience into words is hard, especially when you're trying desperately to hide the fact that it is your very own experience. I've been trying to tackle this angle by writing in a third person point of view but as a memoir. I suppose if it is not written correctly, it would fail miserably.
I'm hoping that my editors would like it, but knowing their artsy fartsy mentality, they would probably laugh at my feeble attempt to write.
Whilst I digress from writing, I've contacted Borneo Ink in hopes of getting a new tattoo. Once I get it, I'll discuss more about it.
As for now, it's back to the drawing board...and work tomorrow.
Monday blues always get the best of me.
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