Who am I? What am I? Where am I? Where am I headed to? I really don't know. RNFI. Really No F**king Idea. A cynic, an idealist, a person with ideas, but NATO. Am I? I really don't know. RNFI. Really No F**king Idea.

Monday, March 31, 2008

What are you worth?

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On my way...

to my 500th post. after this... another 9 more. and then the next target would be to hit a thousand... alas... i'm not as verbose as some of the people i know and given how work can bog me down... that might take a while... ah well... one step at a time... slowly we plod on.

That's what friends are for...

i shall blog today. just so that Rambling Alcoholic doesn't turn purple and die... see bro, that's the great length that i am willing to go for you. in addition to introducing the love of your life to you of course. so you'd better appreciate it, repent and mend your errant ways.

;)

well... i've been reading some students' blogs. interesting how some of them think and feel. perhaps i ought to let them know that i am reading their blogs... else they might think that i am invading their privacy. and you know how touchy people that age are about their personal space.

one thing (amongst many others) i gleaned from the blogs that i have been trawling through is that students are more disposed to keeping running commentaries about their lives, listing the things that they did that day than to give opinions and thoughts. of course that is very stereotyping. i am sure there are students out there who are insightful and insicive, using words as a surgeon would a scapel, delicately yet with absolute certainty, cutting straight to the heart of many a complex issues. Gayle Goh for example. but then again, she's a rare breed from a place of a very different culture.

and that's the thing about language. use it or lose it. not just that. what you say, how you say it very much reflects the environment you find yourself in, says a lot about the people you spend time with. in the time since i've left university, my English has deteriorated much. i put it down to not having to keep up with the subtle nuances that people like the Warden lace their conversations with. i have been trying to make it up by reading.

ah well...

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Coffee induced...

i am feeling some strange emotional aversion to blogging. perhaps it is because i have not done it for such a long time that now, what used to be a regular ritual, seems to be so unnatural that i can't bring myself to believe that i had once been so immersed in it. consequently, i find it difficult to bring myself to blog once again.

a lot has happened since my last entry and i have changed much in that time, gained different experiences which have consequently shaped my views and outlook. it has taken much out of me. and i won't deny that i am not tired (pardon the double negatives... somehow it just sounds nicer... though Orwell wouldn't have approved... but heck, who cares about him...). it is the sort of exhaustion that festers in the core of your being and slowly hollows you out, making you physically fatigued and emotionally drained, leaving you with a lumbering empty shell. perhaps this is what people call being burnt out.

oh well... i didn't mean to write all that. i meant to write about Vantage Point. and it was meant to be funny... more like the posts when i first started this blog (i.e. random, warped sense of humour). it had something to do with getting a new handphone. wait, what does Vantage point have to do with getting a new handphone? well... have you noticed how, in Vantage Point (if you have watched it, that is), despite all the running about, explosions, car crash, etc... Tom's handphone is still in perfect condition? what a marvellouslly tough handphone it is! just right for a clutz like me.

but what's more miraculous is how, after all the ordeal that Tom goes through, at the end of the show, he is still immaculately dressed, tie still in place, not a scratch on his suit. Bruce Willis should learn from Dennis Quaid... but then again, some people might find a man with rippling muscles in a sweat drenched singlet sexy.

and of course there is the amazing confluence of multiple coincidences (spoiler alert...) at the end of the show. the most incredible was the one where the bad guy swerved to avoid hitting Anna (an innocent little child looking for her mom... aw... so sweet...) and thus resulting in the complete failure of an otherwise ingeniusly planned operation that was immaculately executed. why would anyone who is willing to blow up a packed plaza and all but demolish a hotel lobby be worried about running a little girl over?

but it's only a show. i guess we should suspend belief and give grace to poetic license.

right. the coffee is finally wearing off. i am going to sleep now. when will i next blog? i don't know. but i don't think anyone is holding their breaths.