moving…

Been pretty busy as of late. The need to be is even more apparent and required at this time. No room for rara especially when you’re trying to balance the normal and the nocturnal sides of your life.

Chasing…

Whether it’s those beautiful summer evenings when the breeze swirls low into your hair as you run. The footsteps pit pat pit pat across the damp gravel. The longing for a certain something, someone. The smell of foam and lather, or the hair that permeated the pillows. The scent of their clothing from a hot dryer, afternoon unplanned naps. The wanting to be children with their high pitched sobs knowing they could get whatever they wanted. The sound of her light purrs in the night freeze. Her morning pout before your first kiss, or your morning pout knowing you had to give it, heh. The gentle licks of the face, only to realise it was coming from a rodent like pup. And most of all, feeling that you wouldn’t mind the least bit, living with these moments forever.

time…

Spent the weekend with friends. At times like these, sometimes the only thing holding your body upright are the people that love you, no matter how much your feet, heart and soul bleed. They fill you with hope, a sense of belonging and a new light in a dark corner. You just have to be willing to stand there and be hopeful. Saw a place with C today. I loved it. The thought of being Cs neighbor was even more hilarious. Put it on backburner until I get the number and appointment. The thought of doing laps in the front yard was the nail though, sharing bike parts, wake up calls and run routes. What a pad.

Mr Hudson’s been keeping me focused lately. Focused in trying to keep at it. Smile more. Hold more. Hug more. Be more for me and you. Let’s dance.

getting set…

It’s a pretty chill saturday. And although I need to nurse this headache I’ve got from last night, I’ve been up with a whole slew of emails from my pet project, I’ve got a trail run in a bit (and I forgot to bring the trail skippers home from work again), a bunch of things to do this evening and the same thing all over again tomorrow. Although it’s somewhat consuming emotionally and physically, I suppose looking at these stretches of work and play as the outlet is helping, making me be a little more focused, appreciating all the beautiful things life is throwing at me right now, letting fate take it’s course and trying to steer my boat in the right way. The destination’s out there somewhere, and though the journey is laboring, I try to look at it as a coming of age and experience all rolled into one. With a hope that something fruitful comes out of it.

Oh and it’s always nice to receive shoes on a Friday. It was a long time coming, and together, amidst the leaves, we found fruit. So if you didn’t know, now you know. Coming to a theatre near you…

‘Crop circles in the carpet’…

A couple of questions put on my plate from the past couple of weeks. They came strung together in 3s or 4s and revolved around a general theme. Do you want to go out tonight? How about tomorrow? I’ve got so and so that wants to meet you, go? How far do you want to go? How many reps can you pull HS? How many clicks you running today? Where are you right now? Are you coming for dinner? How many have you had? How long will it take you to quit? Are you drinking? Are you driving? Are you doing PD this year? Do you want it in red or blue? Did they fit, and do they suit you? You holding up okay? Can you change? Have you changed? Will you? You still love her? You like small dogs?

My replies? Maybe, maybe, nah, as far as I can go, as many as I can do, as far as the trotters take me, somewhere, no, a couple, getting there, here and there, no, maybe, red, yes even though people think I look like a scientist, I’m trying to, yes, yes, yes, more than you think I did, no but I’m warming up. Imogen Heap. Hide and seek. Play it when you sleep. Think good thoughts.

the good boys…

A lot of the times when I refer to my ‘boys’ on here, it usually comes down to a few chaps. It’s a rather western colloquial way of saying ‘mycloseguyfriends’ but that’s how it goes. So in the first lot, it’s my army friends whom I’ve grown hugely close to. They’re not your typical army mates where suddenly the English you had suddenly morphs into slurs of F this, F that and the Hokkien jargon you get on most occasions. As a matter of fact, You’d probably cover half the Ivy Leagues and the big five financial firms with the dudes on my list (minus me naturally). They’re my boys because we bunked together, played cards together, suffered breaks ups and make ups together, turned out together, did push and sit ups in wet toilets together, shared prickly heat together, cigarettes and 5.56 rounds together, sweat, blood and poop together as a cog in Mother Green’s Mean Machine. Those are my first lot of boys. Bros for life no less.

The next lot, equally tough as nails, are my Tri boys. Brash young punks they are. They are the ones that used to do the worst stuff in school and perhaps were the biggest rebels in house, home and homeroom (me included). The dudes got away with everything; being tardy, slack, not wearing uniform the way mister principal so and so said to wear it, 8 holed DM’s under their trousers, untied shoelaces, dyed hair and getting the cool girls (not me by the way. 50 pounds overweight gets you nada mind you, who cares if you played on the national team, walruss’ get nada). I think we came to a group consensus, which ultimately became the matra of our existence and friendship that Tri was THE way to get rid (or rather lessen) all that teenage angst we still had left burrowed in our little Peter Pan minds. Combining a swim, bike and run in various degrees of pain and distance allowed for the perfect balance (or imbalance depending on whether you’re an optimist or pessimist) of temper control, pure stupidness, and wasting energy just for the sake of ego and wearing borderline obscene ratios of spandex and lycra to human surface area. Of course we were all down for it. Oh yes lest I forget the shameless gawking pervertedly at bike geometry, carbon components, stack and reach, what have you.  Shems, Carlos, Cols, Swizz Jems, Chancho, D, D and A and occasionally but rarely these days, the Fangster. There are a few other chaps on this list I’ve missed but you get the idea.

These boys, cover everything that I’ve come to be during my 7 year journey thus far in the ‘Pore. And it’s been a blast. They’ve taught me to be gung ho, sad, angry, hopeful and most of all, taught me what it was like to be a Singaporean again. Believe you me, I’m not much of a patriot, and most of the time you’ll catch me saying most things ‘Unporean’ anyway. But I love these guys. They’ve given me so much. Being the youngest of them all has also gotten me the ‘baby’ title. But hey I’m approaching the two nine okay chaps? A second load of bros for life.

So anyway back to the story, forgive the digression.

I got quite the little heart to heart lecture from the Carlos today. And I’m grateful he did. Put me in my place I tell you. Reminds me that sometimes, boys will be boys. And there are those particular times, where boys will be girls. It’s good to know I’ve got a bunch of lads to keep me grounded when I need to be, and up in the air when I want to be. Made me smile tonight the bugger. It’s been a while since I’ve done so. It’s not everyday you look at your life from ten feet off the ground, and realize that even though you’ve never had older brothers, you really actually have, and that they were a lot closer than you’d ever imagined. Nothing breaks a family. They can have their arguments, fights, misunderstandings, but brothers they still are. Still will be. And it’s a good feeling to have. Having said that, it’s been a week since I’ve had some good nosh too, a small win in the great scheme of things. Thanks for the advice. And I have been doing things differently, better, friendlier, love a little sweeter, to ‘wake up my idea’ so to speak. Those outside of Singers, sorry but you ain’t gonna get that last bit. Hooah!

Love you guys. My feet are on the ground again.

Cruise control…

I’m trying to get my mind around things. Get my head leveled. Life is throwing those curve balls and I’m trying to be Griffey again. Bring the PMA up a notch and look forward. They’ve said to give up. Tap out they told me. Why even bother with such a predicament? Why face the fear and inconsistencies with hope when you can steer clear? Because I think perhaps with some things, actions or occurances, have set patterns to why and how they happen. Some call it fate, some call it blind luck. But to most things, whether a mathermatical equation, chemical reaction or logical physiological issue, have set solutions that help to either resolve or diffuse an action that has occured. In some cases, more often emotional, a specific reaction to a particiular action does not have those set solutions. In those situations, you have to use something the science and rational types hate to hear. Because you have to use a thing called your heart, your gut, and much faith. There are no rules here. There are no set dimensions or limitations. It’s an endless field of obstacles and crossroads, none of which ever repeat or are ever consistent. And what do you risk in this? Everything single thing. If you’re not willing to pay to play then perhaps you aren’t cut out for this game. When I signed on, I knew what I signed up for. So yes. Risk everything. I always had a plan. A plan to risk it all…

That once was…

The magnifying glass shone hard that afternoon, the toy soldier tried to hold his ground. The heat wore through. The tip of his bayonet on his rifle musket began to wilt. With it his arms, his helmet, shoulders, until what remained was just a green smear across the lukewarm tarmac. He stands his ground still, but his stature once reminiscent of the tall, strong soldier is nothing more than a bubbling reduced mound of forest green that once was. That once was…

He took the longer road this time. He tried to speak hard into the speakers and the screen but the static was just too great, the responses came in muffled groans, drips and drabs of text across the screen. Not knowing how to react, he kept a straight face, praying fate would take him home, but it didn’t. The words continued to flash across the screen as he held his ground, trying desperately to articulate whatever he could muster. The shadows of across the pale yellowed hues of the sidestreet lamp posts glowed far and true. The words just came naturally liked he’d imagined it would. Like he’d planned all along. But the static prevailed. He knew there wasn’t much he could do but to take some level of action, the messages continued to drip drip drip. The time read 12:21am. He frantically put on some clothing, grabbed his keys and made his way down the narrow stairs to the car. The engine came to life with a rumble, the only one alive in the entire neighborhood. At this hour at least, it was on it’s own.

He drove to seek refuge, answers and solidarity. Took stairs 3 by 3, snaked past the front gate and to her door. He took off his jacket. Then he laid it all out. The moonlight shimmered across the ripples of the pool, the wind wasn’t great but ripples as though a gust was present. He laid it out. With everything in tow, in writing

But what could he do, when the person he had come to love with everything that he had within reach, had come to decide not to love him back? Something inside of him died that night. Something withered, faltered and fell. Something that used to live burned, the ash, merely a fraction of what was. And it once was…

TRX…

Bangkok, you were nice to me this trip. It was a tough but pleasant end to 3 busy weeks of travel. Seoul, Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh, and you. Thanks for the good times. Come on SQ, hook up the gold card already. Today, the Vaps and muscle man Tommy hooked up a TRX training session in town. I’m not going to give you a link so you’re just going to have to find out for yourself what this thing is. Think of it as circus and military training like you’ve never experienced it before. And no, the A frame is not used for what you just thought of, sicko. Some of the workouts from today were from muscle groups I didn’t even know existed but now ache. Some say pain is weakness leaving the body, but on the drive just now, my arms were still trembling. And if it still hurts like hell tomorrow (which I have no doubt it will), it probably means the weakness likely still is here to stay. Hit me up to find out more, but I am likely go next week to help weakness leave the body again. Tommy, thanks to you I find myself aching when I pee both sitting down OR standing up. And yes, it aches when I lie down too…

The CT never sleeps…

Cheers Russel and J for the chat today. Youth culture is something that can never be forgotten, and it excites me when I can hear it from people that sympathize or better yet, emphatize with what you preach. If you haven’t heard of him, then yes, you’ve been sleeping. Do your homework! Pic from artsandthat. Back to number crunching…