tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-130204732012-01-29T13:33:32.458+08:00Eternal Wanderingstransit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.comBlogger5411100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-77449813402256411402012-01-09T00:22:00.001+08:002012-01-29T13:30:56.925+08:00

Over breakfast the other day, the few of us were on the topic of cameras when Eugene remarked that he couldn't recall when was the last time he used his camera. He takes photographs occasionally, using his iPhone which has a built-in camera. With camera-enabled smart phones these days, he observed, there is no need to carry a camera around since a mobile phone could

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-67755752559589333722012-01-08T23:00:00.000+08:002012-01-09T00:43:59.228+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-56855568135374639992011-11-27T12:30:00.000+08:002011-11-29T07:13:26.906+08:00

The road to Atas-dom is paved with good intentions. It shows you where you stand in the scale of atashood as the pinnacles of finery gleam everywhere in the background. Be exhilarated, be humbled.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-44846792371011536722011-11-27T12:00:00.000+08:002011-11-29T23:48:41.349+08:00

I love the little dots that rise and fall in a line suspended in the air. My Sunday morning was made all the more beautiful because of this lovely image. It makes it worth my while to crawl out of bed early in the morning and risk a tired Sunday.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-40499984878230623232011-11-19T23:22:00.001+08:002011-11-28T23:17:16.291+08:00

Can anyone be more brutally frank when they haven't met you for a while (say more than a year) and upon meeting up, tell you without the slightest hesitation: 'You've aged!' If you didn't think someone look the same or become even more youthful after a long absence, you wouldn't go the other way and say he's aged right? I'm amused, maybe a little sad, but not at all offended. After all, the

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-71278831917489474802011-11-12T18:19:00.001+08:002011-11-27T00:35:50.217+08:00

It's been pouring since morning. Though it's evening now there seems to be no difference in the time because the sky's been gloomy and overcast since the first torrent of raindrops came beating down this morning. As I held my umbrella and shielded myself from the splattering rain this afternoon, I thought of the last Malaysia ride we had - of being caught in the rain and getting our bike and

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-13924327049384084232011-11-11T23:30:00.000+08:002011-11-13T23:09:15.128+08:00

"The Gospels, revealingly, tell us little of Jesus's spiritual formation and concentrate mostly on his words and actions. The Buddha story, by comparison, places most of its emphasis on how Sidhartha came to enlightenment - the process (which anyone can follow, even today, in principle) - while the particular details of his subsequent teachings and wanderings are often barely mentioned. Even

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-44538270096287604602011-11-09T00:33:00.001+08:002011-11-13T00:25:29.093+08:00

It's twenty four minutes past twelve. We are in the first hour of the ninth day of November in the year twenty eleven. My humble achievement at this hour: Chapter 1 of Book 1 of 1Q84 completed. Aomame has crossed the metropolitan highway and swung over the metal barrier. She is now making her descent down the emergency highway. I'm such a sucker for cool design and all things aesthetically

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-57793572873466499232011-11-08T21:17:00.001+08:002011-11-20T10:43:13.938+08:00

Picture below: Supper that I had just 20 minutes ago. 5 minutes before that I just finished my dinner. All super unhealthy food, but what's there to complain after a hard day at work and a barely decent lunch? In other world news, I'm glad I performed the Murakami operation last night, for the prospect of continuing from where I left off yesterday, even if it may only be for a few precious lines

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-14202639311082547372011-11-07T22:22:00.001+08:002011-11-20T22:23:20.061+08:00

I have done the deed. The stage is now set for what would be a long journey into the mystical and bizarre, the inexplicable and astounding. The incriminating book has been stripped of its plastic cover, and the pages were ruffled for the very first time. I felt like a Murakami character experiencing a sense of uncanny delight as if I had been bracing myself for this moment, preparing to plunge

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-49535655757801030182011-11-07T13:32:00.001+08:002011-11-20T22:26:48.913+08:00

The other reason why I ditched Bintan for Batam in the end was this: A&W. I don't know if Bintan had A&W, but Batam definitely has, so that's a clear edge for Batam. Just like in Malaysia where the people who ask about A&W and patronise it are my countrymen, so too is the case for Batam. I guess if A&W never disappeared from the F&B landscape here, it would not have been so popular and excited

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-78648689547535537042011-11-07T13:03:00.001+08:002011-11-18T21:05:23.213+08:00

About three weeks ago, I spent a bit of Me time at what I thought was a perfect sanctuary to recharge and spend some quiet time alone. It all started with my having obtained an extended leave at the last minute. I wanted to get away from everything that's familiar and which consumes my energy and even my soul. The sensible thing to do is to travel: go to a foreign place, journey by yourself. I

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-54026208299690107562011-11-06T21:30:00.000+08:002011-11-06T21:30:04.450+08:00

"Buddhism, more than any philosophy I am aware of, has no interest in "dreamlands," or in the places in our head that stand in the way of our engagement with what is happening right now; the Buddha, after all, took his very name and meaning from the sense of being wide-awake in the middle of confusion and ignorance. The philosophy that arose out of his teaching affirms no absolute paradise of

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-33370785264046255352011-11-06T21:16:00.000+08:002011-11-16T00:28:26.039+08:00

It will never happen, but a comfortable schedule should be one sprinkled with regular time-out at the friendly cafe at the corner of the street or in an unpretentious restaurant that serves no-frills good food. Prices should be affordable and most importantly, the atmosphere and vibes must strike the right chord. Make it too gaudy and the place will come across as having poor taste. Sexed it up

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-21399853622892981532011-11-06T01:22:00.001+08:002011-11-20T22:28:25.239+08:00

"The solitude was extreme because it wasn't physical. It was extreme because you felt it while in the company of the person you loved. It was extreme because it was in your head, that most solitary of places." - The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-10409306477486581402011-11-06T00:33:00.001+08:002011-11-06T00:33:45.681+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-27233881671407397692011-11-05T23:41:00.000+08:002011-11-05T23:41:16.809+08:00

"Maybe it was an illusion, i thought. I stood there a long time, gazing at the rainswept streets. Once again I was a twelve-year-old boy staring for hours at the rain. Look at the rain long enough, with no thoughts in your head, and you gradually feel your body falling lose, shaking free the world's reality. Rain has the power to hypnotize. "But this had been no mirage. When I went back into

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-69553826324426348812011-11-03T22:38:00.000+08:002011-11-20T22:29:01.372+08:00

"I love the process of starting from scratch, creating something, seeing it through till it was absolutely perfect. It was my bar, my own little world. Could you find this kind of happiness proofreading school textbooks? No way." - p.61 "Our world's exactly the same. Rain falls and the flowers bloom. No rain, they wither up. Bugs are eaten by lizards, lizards are eaten by bird. But in the end

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-21428078723886656432011-11-01T22:48:00.000+08:002011-11-01T22:50:54.070+08:00

the few things that kindle a little warmth in me these days.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-82944268832009413462011-10-28T01:27:00.000+08:002011-11-20T22:32:26.426+08:00

I remember taking swimming lessons when I was still a little boy in primary school. Those were the days when mum and us would take a 15 minute ride on bus 98 (this excludes waiting time for the bus) which would take us through one of the oldest housing estates in the area. I know, because the 1-room flat where we used to live in was in the estate. Now the area only spots modern high-rise housing

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-3706678315131628402011-10-26T19:24:00.001+08:002011-10-26T19:26:02.385+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-32117172598510603082011-10-22T23:55:00.004+08:002011-11-17T22:28:10.379+08:00

They were moving on, I had to make do with a quick pause, so I moved closer to the beckoning gate, flipped my camera out and took a shot. I was drawn to the building the moment I saw it. I like how the gate opens up to a road leading to the main house, and how the fallen leaves and shrubbery around the gate gives the compound a quaintly charming facade. Just a chance discovery like this makes a

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-30808170067106302222011-10-22T23:50:00.000+08:002011-10-23T13:36:07.872+08:00

Old school breakfast at an old world Kopitiam. Eggs better than yakun (you've got to break them yourselves though), and toasted bread of the kind that I like (i.e. not the hard kind from yakun).

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-53177669698878271012011-10-21T23:45:00.005+08:002011-11-20T22:33:00.736+08:00

The weather was not so kind. Plans for a late morning swim were duly aborted when it became clear that this was no ordinary rain; I just didn't expect it to be an extraordinary downpour. [A day later, I read in the papers that there were flash floods at various locations because of the sudden deluge of rainfall.] With a good one hour to spare before lunch, I decided to brave the heavy

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-45976277242397185492011-10-20T22:45:00.002+08:002011-11-17T22:29:04.477+08:00

Balloons and romance go together, don't they, just as a bicycle and quaint shophouses make for a perfect match. In the absence of deep blue ocean and wind-swept coastal roads (with that occasional lighthouse in the distance), I think this is a decent backdrop for a whiff of snazzy romance.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-75949025001434105092011-10-13T21:29:00.003+08:002011-10-14T00:17:10.288+08:00

Thursday night, lounging in a cafe, daydreaming and reading my book - it seems almost crazy to imagine doing this just a few months ago. But this is for real, I am breathing and whiling away time on a working thursday evening, a period which for many months had disappeared from my life. That's the past. This is the now.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-57382978817857993122011-10-12T11:01:00.004+08:002011-11-16T22:39:36.850+08:00

Stepping out of Clarke Quay MRT station yesterday evening, I was a little thrilled at seeing the sky. Plumes of droplets-leaden clouds somehow managed to break away from the precarious mass that usually envelops the sky these days. They were at the furthest end from me, starkly contrasting with the rest of the darkening sky. The ephemeral beauty was matched by its own sense of fragile

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-89426477304995870772011-10-09T19:08:00.004+08:002011-11-17T22:41:04.471+08:00

As the sun goes down and takes along with it all the heady heat of the day, my heart soothes a little with the slowly darkening sky. The music in the bookstore wafts through the cafe, putting me in a relaxed mood. All that's missing is a bit of jazz. I stared into the space outside the window, wondering if night heralds a gentler city and erases the troubles of the day. All that remains is a

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-18867491806135295392011-10-06T23:30:00.001+08:002011-11-19T01:57:23.560+08:00

I love the dazzle of shimmering lights when you see through a rainswept window on a rainy night. The view of the world outside evokes a gentle hypnotic feel, enchanting in a way that only a kaleidoscope of colours could induce. Gazing through the window, I feel as if time has suspended and the world has slipped into a fuzzy trance. If my day had been a grey, this was a comforting end to it.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-75799126575857762682011-10-05T22:36:00.003+08:002011-11-20T22:35:05.436+08:00

Josh says our mental faculties start to deteriorate after 28. Now, if only I knew that earlier, I would have a perfectly legitimate reason to justify my lapses at work in the past year. We both gave a mocking smile and agreed that everything about our physical self goes downhill after the BIG three-zero. For the record, we didn't note this out of fear of aging. After all, our predecessors have

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-30794300958928765422011-10-04T20:05:00.004+08:002011-10-13T01:22:57.369+08:00

1. I decided the lesser of two evils and settled for Toastbox to get my sweets fix after an unsatisfying dinner which consisted of roasted duck rice. That's half the amount of evil money that would have come out of my wallet if I had gone to Starbucks instead.2. Toast Box seriously needs to update and change the sad repertoire of old chinese unoriginal songs that they are playing. I hear them all

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-67202880378298607492011-09-18T21:03:00.004+08:002011-11-20T22:36:01.614+08:00

Did an 8km city run today that took WW and me from Robertson Quay to MBS and back. Following which, we had our usual brekkie at a nice cafe. This time, it was to 40 Hands where I was surprised to see quite a crowd at such an early hour. I had egg cocotte and a cuppacino, a pleasing combination, if a little atas, for a post-run meal.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-34111598284839512422011-09-12T01:16:00.002+08:002011-09-12T01:20:28.750+08:00

I downloaded Blogger application to my mobile phone yesterday and did a test by uploading a picture (last post). My oh my, the photo's huge. But this looks promising. I don't like to post my musings on Facebook so with this mobile application, this blog may see more activity in time to come. For now, it's to survive the current nightmare. Sleep deprivation and non-stop working has been taken to a

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-73961053932736485352011-09-11T17:46:00.003+08:002011-10-01T20:01:20.399+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-25830191515448385392011-09-01T21:11:00.003+08:002011-11-13T11:10:18.340+08:00

Let this day be remembered as the day I took a leap of faith, and tomorrow be that day the leap is completed.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-40330434632092446682011-08-31T23:22:00.000+08:002011-11-13T11:09:48.928+08:00

I love a good pizza and splash of colours to my food under superb day light.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-54762534023871657672011-08-30T16:35:00.002+08:002011-11-13T11:10:47.318+08:00

The road always lies ahead. It's about finding wisdom and catching the rays of inspiration while they last.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-67342439009612872702011-08-30T14:09:00.006+08:002011-11-20T22:37:58.908+08:00

I spent a very comfortable Saturday morning first pounding the tarmac in the relentless rain, then chilling out at a cafe nestled away in the fringe of the city. After almost 5 months of hectic work and consequent inactivity, it felt good to be in my running gear again, conquering the road foot by foot, breath by breath, from metres to miles. The cool rainy weather was enjoyable, so was the

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-13971164889242644142011-08-04T00:37:00.004+08:002011-11-20T22:42:27.190+08:00

It's difficult not to like Tokyobikes. The bikes are sleek and simple, the pastel colours have a refreshing appeal and the whole package resonates with what I think is its design objective: simple, classic and delightful. Going back to the basics and keeping things simple never run out of date. There's a place for simplicity and minimalism in life, in a way that is supposed to counter the

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-22649148489958786112011-08-03T00:18:00.004+08:002011-11-13T11:13:29.338+08:00

Life is sometimes all about favourites isn't it?

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-51664101359657439652011-08-01T00:24:00.007+08:002011-08-01T01:19:04.427+08:00

Dilapidated walls that evoke old world charmBehind that lane unfolds more buildings of different heightsAlluring ancient spiral staircaseAnother charming facade of a building The golden rust glow stole my gaze for a momentBicycle for RentAnd these are the bicycles :)Multi Palms PillarThe mee rubus looks especially good hereAdding on to the collection of Volkswagen chic. I love how retro the

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-49477578305910400802011-07-31T22:10:00.000+08:002011-08-01T00:23:52.544+08:00

Sunday Dusk. My heart melts.Saturday Lush greenery. Away from home.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-2655090254733507182011-05-26T01:32:00.004+08:002011-11-20T22:47:34.616+08:00

As I am writing this now, flashes keep appearing from the corner of my eye. I guess it's a kind of enjoyment, in an inexplicable way, to be up at nearly 2am with the constant company of lightning and thunder. The night sky's been set nearly ablaze by the furious lightning. I swear if this were converted into usable energy, the entire island-state could run on electricity for a good, say, 10

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-5449972170212329032011-05-22T23:50:00.001+08:002011-11-20T22:49:20.094+08:00

I woke up from my afternoon nap to find this stunning view outside my window. Like the mornings that I miss almost daily, I wonder how many such gorgeous evenings I have missed and will continue to miss.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-33935188012415911052011-05-21T23:53:00.000+08:002011-05-23T02:53:33.123+08:00

a white jetA day spent working from the morning till night. I was glad for a respite in the evening, to be ale to catch a glimpse of the sunset.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-23446310872429515222011-05-18T18:17:00.004+08:002011-11-13T11:19:48.039+08:00

My good friend Adr is showing signs of becoming domesticated. Armed with a huge yellow canvas Ikea bag, he was shopping for equipment to build his latest project: a garden. While I know the outdoors and nature run in his (green) blood, I didn't know he's taken a liking to gardening. I think Shyuan asked if snails could be grown inside the bottle garden. He said no, because they will eat the

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-16414775668954344972011-05-17T23:31:00.005+08:002011-11-21T22:07:35.122+08:00

On those days when I'm not working and get to spend my mornings outdoor, I am often reminded of how beautiful mornings are and, consequently, how much I am missing each day. So I am grateful that the perfect morning weather today was not wasted.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-87669540531044676132011-05-11T23:55:00.003+08:002011-11-13T11:17:17.420+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-16529153189990057492011-05-09T11:55:00.001+08:002011-11-20T22:52:22.363+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-40006195062702937622011-05-07T23:49:00.000+08:002011-11-13T11:18:00.821+08:00

It's been another busy week, except this one was charged with the adrenalin of election campaigning, my fellow countrymen, especially the young ones, participating passionately in online platforms, streaming opinions and news updates faster than you can digest them. Meanwhile, I am nearly done with my sunshine album, waiting to be uploaded to Facebook. It shall be titled: Into the Wind: Riding

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-18460252890992698292011-04-27T22:09:00.007+08:002011-11-21T22:08:23.813+08:00

"So that's how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us - that's snatched right out of our hands - even if we are left completely changed people with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-2340678466569842722011-04-26T00:05:00.002+08:002011-11-13T11:20:32.705+08:00

The wind blows. I take a deep breath, inhale hope and refresh. Gently you stir, my troubles drift away.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-4537700834827540262011-04-25T00:52:00.004+08:002011-11-13T11:21:34.251+08:00

"I walk across the park, on a narrow path at its edge, in the autumn sunlight, and feel a foreigner's sense of wonder: the convenience stores placed along the small, shiny road, as if they were just more vending machines; the two-story houses, tidily guarded by their walls, lined up along the narrow streets like salarymen in their business suits waiting in a receiving line for the future. Every

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-58566524292054568992011-04-24T23:48:00.009+08:002011-11-21T22:09:45.284+08:00

Cool breeze. Warm sunshine. Kids in a field. Two roti prata plain with 100+. Scorching heat. Winding roads and quaint blocks. Kaya Butter toast with tea. Chocolate Fudge cake and cappuccino. Meeting a good friend. That was my Sunday. The orange glob follows me wherever I go. Shadow bridge Lucky me. I met an incoming train! I love the fern-covered tree. Gorgeous. A permanent goal.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-80149208090011529662011-04-23T23:39:00.003+08:002011-04-25T09:19:53.042+08:00

Saturday dinner was Chinese food with JpW and SM. Only two weeks ago, I received a sms from JpW after midnight informing his good friends that he's proposed, and SM has accepted his proposal. Over dinner, I managed to find out more about their uneventful proposal - nothing fanciful, just a simple affair between themselves.I am happy for both of them. In one of the mysterious ways that life works,

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-4826250033223262232011-04-22T23:14:00.000+08:002011-11-20T22:53:30.598+08:00

Beautiful sunlight. Splendid company. Truffle fries and sticky date pudding. Chilled drinks. A tiny baby that pouts and ekks. That was my Sunday last week. Before sunset.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-81357579138266649942011-04-21T23:44:00.003+08:002011-11-23T23:51:25.004+08:00

I was tempted to buy the latest paperback edition of Norwegian Wood despite having already read it and even owned a copy. This edition has the two Japanese leads from the movie adaption of the novel fronting the cover. It's taken from a scene where the characters Naoka and Watanabe stood in the midst of the vast wintry mountains and held each other. I am usually not

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-34477262695732020372011-04-20T23:33:00.004+08:002011-11-13T01:13:29.586+08:00

Gratitude: Company of Buddy in mid-week. The last I met him was at his wedding in January. Pity he had diahorrea midway through our meal and I ended up eating most of the pizza myself.      Last Photo: Courtesy of John. Ice-cream yesterday!

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-35111027000677670512011-04-16T22:50:00.004+08:002011-11-20T23:00:11.518+08:00

Gratitude: Spending a Friday evening with good pals over a simple meal.Sometimes, I can feel my heart aglow with happiness when my mind fills with thoughts about how beautiful Life is. Life is many things and means different things to different people. But being able to look back your life and savour the journey is something that everyone can relate to. Blessed are the ones who could, with their

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-91748378301942936622011-04-14T14:17:00.006+08:002011-11-20T23:02:13.888+08:00

I found bubbles of cotton in the sky when I stepped out of my flat this morning. Although the sky's just a sky and clouds are just clouds, together they offer infinite permutations that can be an inspiring and uplifting sight. I could stare at the sky and admire it for a long time. One moment the clouds might coalsce into a continuous sheet; the next moment they could be spreading apart and

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-15070881924168438172011-04-13T23:49:00.001+08:002011-11-13T01:22:52.632+08:00

I love rainy evenings, when dusk descends quietly in the company of falling droplets, turning the gentlest part of the day into melancholy beauty, while the pitter-patter of the rain becomes the perfect score for the retreat of daylight. As the rain lulls me into a languorous mood, the details of the surroundings - people walking, water splashed by cars, changing colours of traffic lights -

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-34980338275585930022011-04-12T00:20:00.003+08:002011-11-20T23:05:23.264+08:00

Since I discovered this particular shop near my office selling glutinous rice balls, or tang yuan, I have been eating their tang yuan far too many times than I care to remember. I usually have them as dessert after dinner, to sweeten what would usually have been a lousy day. It's true that one doesn't need to have a lot of money or material comforts in life to enjoy a bit of pleasure every

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-86123657104503253602011-04-11T00:50:00.000+08:002011-11-20T23:06:04.647+08:00

Take our cue from time, the master. Learn to weigh everything equally: hope and grief, two sides to a partner we should love unconditionally. Learn to love a clean kitchen, as well as the ants around the bin like the spoor of something left unsaid, something important. ... ... To love the smell of rain, the cold rain on our faces. Love the thunder and the sleep it cracks open. What we

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-63934796230638086352011-04-11T00:20:00.003+08:002011-11-20T23:11:36.344+08:00

After more than a year, this gem that I had discovered remains a lovely hideout that's not been colonised by the masses. Its obscure location could be one reason why it's not as popular as other coffee joints. Or perhaps many people who hang out at cafes simply choose to go to places which are more popular and prominent. The fact that it's but part of a bookstore which lacks mainstream appeal

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-23211364433290256282011-04-10T21:47:00.003+08:002011-11-13T01:24:58.400+08:00

The turquoise pool and white tiles, the spartan facilities and old age feel - I love all of this.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-71950187321038152612011-04-10T12:32:00.011+08:002011-11-20T23:13:24.997+08:00

If one used to hanker for toys and games at a young age, then self-identity and material comfort after attaining financial independence, what then does one yearn and live for after these stages? Family and friends, spiritual faith and charity work, you may say. To quote what I read elsewhere, I hope to bring 'silence and thought' into my daily life, to be able to enjoy an equanimity that

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-10591591502299828592011-04-09T01:40:00.009+08:002011-11-19T09:24:48.246+08:00

Feeling the rush of wind in your face, or the caress of a cool breeze. Taking unhurried steps in the mid morning under the denim sky. Breathing in fresh air, smelling the scent of grass and crisp air - and letting the smell linger. Observing the folks on a train and letting the scene run like one out of a movie. Browsing carelessly in the final minutes before the bookstore closes. Listening to

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-54495838451096834702011-04-05T21:52:00.006+08:002011-11-20T23:15:02.563+08:00

I love the way the branches stretch out in this picture as though they were reaching for the unlimited vast space and hovering sky with a quiet and sturdy grace.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-20034316002688831012011-03-29T22:51:00.004+08:002011-11-13T01:27:07.483+08:00

20 June 2009 26 March 2011 Same man, same vehicle-cart, except the canvass spots a different hue.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-23833138393595393512011-03-28T04:20:00.010+08:002011-04-14T11:48:20.881+08:00

We were five people, five too many in a long sterile room crowded with others who have far more important duties than us. Only a while ago, we were chatting amongst ourselves as we walked down the main corridor. There was a palpable sense of worry as we shuffled alongside one another. Silence was an unspoken understanding that bound all of us together. As if the occasion wasn't sombre enough, the

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-67718019727141438632011-03-27T23:53:00.004+08:002011-03-27T23:59:39.252+08:00

I saw Sa's FB update a while ago: "It's amazing how two of my frens posted the same rainbow seen today! God is awesome." I believe this is the rainbow. We all live and breathe under the same sky after all. The rainbow was a huge arch though, and I could only glimpse part of it. I felt comforted nevertheless.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-60632987745000607032011-03-27T17:47:00.003+08:002011-11-20T23:15:50.903+08:00

Thank god life's journey has a weekly intermission called the weekend.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-81419202029444064512011-03-25T18:16:00.007+08:002011-11-19T09:20:04.261+08:00

Occasionally at work, when I'm in a good mood or when I feel like giving myself a treat, I would allow myself a little splurge - I go to Quiznos to eat their mightily juicy and delicious roasted sandwich. For $9.60 - a hefty sum on a meal for a poor working class folk like me - I get a nice sandwich, soup and soft drink. I like the portion and I like that it comes with soup. Anything that comes

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-80526366214693085602011-03-25T09:06:00.002+08:002011-11-20T23:16:26.578+08:00

Another moment of relish that I spoke about in the previous post: this morning.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-81843445855038589382011-03-25T01:23:00.005+08:002011-03-25T08:53:20.426+08:00

I realised I have forgotten how to smile, and what it takes to smile. That is, until one and a half hour ago, past midnight on the bus heading home, when I was reading Val's SMS reply and became conscious of the natural smile that followed. There was a moment of relish, a silent spark, those kind that strike when you least expect it. I am reminded thus, that it is friends and people who really

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-8725073048773571472011-03-13T19:31:00.006+08:002011-11-27T00:47:40.944+08:00

Last week, I enjoyed my cycling and running so much that I endeavoured to do the same this weekend in a bid to relive the moment of happiness. If the formula has been tried and tested, I thought, why not apply it again? I couldn't wait for Saturday to arrive the whole week. Nevermind the horrid office hours; I would be contented so long as my weekend is untouched and I can hit the road again.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-23731851888676150552011-03-07T14:04:00.003+08:002011-11-22T22:38:34.354+08:00

"When we left the restaurant, the sky was a brilliant splash of colours. The kind of air that felt like if you breathed it in, your lungs would be dyed the same shade of blue. Tiny stars begain to twinkle. Barely able to wait for the long summer day to be over, the locals were out for an after-dinner stroll around the harbour. Families, couples, groups of friends. The gentle scent of the tide

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-31403228206703685532011-03-07T00:50:00.008+08:002011-03-07T13:05:55.463+08:00

I cycled, I ran, I napped, I had coffee and carrot cake (both local and English), and I just had french fries and coke for supper. The weekend was wonderful. And I can't wait for the next good weekend to arrive. I love big and open green spaces, which are such a rarity here Abandoned logs alongside the railway. I like to think it speaks of an adventure.GrassesThere's just so much beauty and so

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-69193881680813022612011-03-03T14:23:00.004+08:002011-11-20T23:24:11.560+08:00

First cuppa after two weeks of jungle and physical exhaustion. I miss all the frivolous things that I love: the cuppaucino, the slow pace, the air-conditioning, my berms and flip flops. So glad to embrace all of them again.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-4595674724718226392011-03-02T13:52:00.004+08:002011-11-20T23:29:01.344+08:00

The best part about January 2011 was not the new beginning. While people were making resolutions and celebrating the new year, many of them did not realise that January was already behind them: the month had slipped away quietly as quickly as it had arrived. To me, the best thing about January was the three weddings I witnessed and participated. I had some friends lamenting for my behalf that

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-37846137702722610342011-03-01T01:52:00.006+08:002011-11-20T23:34:08.190+08:00

It was Sunday evening. The weather was gentle and the sky was gradually turning dark. I was lying in bed, awakened from a half-conscious nap when it suddenly came to my mind that perhaps it was a good time now to go to the jetty and snap a picture. It was something I had long wanted to do, after having seen a lovely shot of some sort of a jetty at a blog. The place was a European country, and

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-9035630775380010682011-01-30T22:45:00.003+08:002011-01-30T22:54:05.641+08:00

These are the sort of things I've been eating every Friday after our SHORT run. And there's always Part 2 to these indulgences. The week before it was a glass of wine. Last Friday, it was a slice of absolutely unimpressive oreo cheese cake and strawberry smoothie, the former of which was useless calories imbibed. Apart from that, I guess the happiest days of the past two weeks were still Fridays.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-43996894148226723222011-01-27T01:35:00.002+08:002011-01-27T01:48:45.182+08:00

Harbouring a green hope and I pray that it will see light.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-50283504388326358712011-01-26T13:49:00.003+08:002011-01-26T13:58:08.563+08:00

I found out recently that Starbucks @ Liat Towers has turned into a uber yuppie place. Not quite the yuppiest people it attracts but I am sure there are many tertiary students and young people in their twenties who hang out there and use the free wifi. I guess they've figured that it makes good business sense to have customers stay in the cafe for as long as possible - with just a cup of

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-7643702532964828482011-01-24T19:36:00.007+08:002011-01-25T06:35:32.846+08:00

I really wish I could write more but it's proving rather difficult. Procrastination aside, the inspiration to write hits rather fleetingly, though I have so much to say - of my good friends' weddings, of the new year, of new discoveries and hopes and more hopes. Till the next writing piece, here are some pictures of recent indulgences. These could jolly well be the end chapter for 2011, so while

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-2435172545372835972011-01-11T02:02:00.003+08:002011-01-11T22:25:31.575+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-83548981841945021312011-01-04T08:51:00.003+08:002011-01-04T09:00:10.969+08:00

Lovely is the other view, where you turn into an observer, spy the kaleidoscope of objects within and enjoy the reflection that has weaved into the scene. The beauty is: not a thing seems out of place.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-77435220317604256442011-01-04T01:24:00.002+08:002011-01-04T09:01:52.863+08:00

I luv I luv I luv this picture. The colour, the shapes, the edges, the contrast of the subjects. Loving it.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-51376389006494602532011-01-02T17:49:00.002+08:002011-01-02T21:10:24.607+08:00

On the first day of twenty-eleven, I found my lalang land paradise - in Singapore. It was an exhilarating find, because I never thought I would come across a significant lalang patch on our urban island. I first developed a liking for lalang after I started cycling in Malaysia. Over there, one could cycle down an infinity stretch flanked by lalang fields. Against the backdrop of a pastel blue sky

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-48787122913574210282011-01-01T23:47:00.003+08:002011-11-21T21:05:41.239+08:00

The end and the beginning are destined as inseparable pair. One goes, the other comes. They are each other's genesis and consequence. They complete each other. I saw the last setting sun of 2010 yesterday evening. This morning, I saw the sun making its first ascent in the new year. It's not often that I see both consecutively, and it's never before happened that I see both on two consecutive

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-43507902089936952652010-12-31T23:25:00.005+08:002011-11-21T22:21:48.087+08:00

I saw the last light of 2010 this evening. After a rainy afternoon, the glorious sun was finally out and making its final twenty-ten descent. As the train glides steadily towards its final destination (even though it would soon be starting a new journey again), I found myself chasing after the setting sun. Like a demure lady making a bashful exit, it would hide behind buildings at one moment,

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-24244140684516077942010-12-30T12:40:00.006+08:002011-12-01T22:39:21.631+08:00

Having not cycled across the causeway for quite some time, last Sunday's ride to Tanjung Piai was some sort of a comeback ride for me. The route was scenic, and we were blessed with good christmas weather. I was also fortunate to be riding with a friendly bunch of folks who cycled at a tolerable pace and made frequent stops to wait for the slower riders. Being the youngest in the group, I was

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-87133583831086613942010-12-28T17:35:00.003+08:002010-12-28T18:04:29.106+08:00

25.12.10, Christmas - Mail received away from home26.12.10, Boxing Day - Waking up to the tranquil sea27.12.10, Post-Boxing Day - Enjoying brunch with Yvon and DanLikes ;)

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-42328654485881528692010-12-24T11:54:00.006+08:002011-01-11T22:25:58.584+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-7578957257075870092010-12-23T22:56:00.003+08:002010-12-23T23:10:01.465+08:00

The little things in life that make you smile. And they don't cost a cent.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-2308597960407510872010-11-28T23:59:00.001+08:002010-11-29T00:18:19.874+08:00

45 minutes for a cappuccino, to catch some breath, before heading back to the deep abyss. Let the week pass soon, send me into a deep slumber. That's all I crave - for now, at least.

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-58150837404391340332010-11-20T23:46:00.000+08:002010-11-21T07:30:37.792+08:00

"They say I am of fancies woven and dream too many dreams,The world prefers the doers, or so often it seems.For doers make the world go round and that of course is true,But oh for songs and fantasies the world needs dreamers too!”- Leah’s Song

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-77636245482891385862010-11-18T02:03:00.002+08:002010-11-18T02:06:23.615+08:00

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-54385771945412287932010-11-17T22:40:00.004+08:002010-11-18T01:57:27.041+08:00

So when does one draw the line between a sense of deprivation and a sense of yearning? Or is it deprivation that drives the yearning for something that quite possibly eludes your grasp? When I allow myself to slip into the 'think about the good times' mode, I don't feel so much of an emptiness as a strong yearning for what I miss so dearly: pounding miles of granite road and sweating a good sweat

transit innhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11154801974118507875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13020473.post-85687722789674798912010-11-16T09:10:00.003+08:002010-11-16T09:16:20.543+08:00

One of the lovelier things on SundayAnd I simply adore this notice

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