The hardest words are the seven letter ones.

It felt different, this time I stepped out of my room. Looking back, it was bare, stripped of its essence. The remnants of my past life these 5 months lay about in dribs and drabs, trailing a path of frantic packing over a night of musicals, whiskey and conversations.

I was leaving a hall, but yet it was different. In NUS (I'm not ashamed to say it) I was happy to leave. While I was rather active in hall, the activities were forced, and the people there I didn't quite clique with. Nevertheless, I made a few friends in my stay, although much more acquaintance. And besides, visiting Temasek was always a stone's throw away. Maybe that's why I never really went back?

I was leaving my room for a trip, but yet it was different. I stepped out of that little room in Pollock many times over the last few months, letting a few day's worth of dust settle before returning to its musty, homely splendour. It became so easy, I would barely start packing until hours before I was scheduled to leave. But each time I left, I knew it was only temporarily. A temporal distortion, taking me away for the moment, but only to return.

I was leaving my life in Edinburgh behind. A short life, but a very eventful one. In the last 5 months, I have made friends that I know I may not see again for the rest of my life. And that really sucks. When you're out there half a world away (or even 2 nations away) from home, every human contact and friendship counts. And you hold on a lot harder to people than you normally do. That's just the way of things.

And in this short life, I was reborn. I left the cares of a "second-lower-striving-for-second-upper" behind, left my eternal worries about studying, my grades, my projects... It was a good feeling. A feeling of release, of ease, of relaxedness. Life became meaningful in the passing of a breeze. The feel of the wind against your cheek. The softness of the grass you lie on to enjoy the sun. The ephemeral taste of a Guinness as it slides down the throat. The sudden ringing of the phone when a friend calls to ask what you're doing. Suddenly there was more meaning in life, and more life in meaning for me.

But all good things come to an end, and it was time to part. I will always feel that my departure from Edinburgh was a rushed affair, a ceasarian rip that tore me from the womb that nurtured me the last 5 months.

Barely 24 hours after my last paper, I left the city.

Knowing that the next time I come back, I won't call this home.

Knowing that the next time I come back, my friends will all haved moved on and gone.

Goodbye Edinburgh. Goodbye.

I've got my pride and i know how to hide all my sorrow and pain.

And too soon shall we all part.

aware?

I'm rather suprised at the effectiveness of Twitter as a social broadcasting tool. I'd been following the AWARE EGM at Suntec via Twitter for the last 3 hours, and it is a really gripping saga. Feels like some drama serial on TV.

The concept of distributed reporting seems seems to be a winner to me. What will come next? Sports twittering? I can imagine 100 people at a soccer match twittering every move, to the delight of fans all over. This is the new face of citizen journalism - Who needs skill? Just a short sentence (which sometimes barely makes sense), but with a couple hundred other people doing so as well, it all comes together.

Cheers to the new AWARE exco. Keep the fundamentalists out.

Let The Right One In.

This film is startlingly gripping. And definitely a new take on a genre spoiled by the Twilight series. Shot in Sweden, the atmosphere is dark, gloomy, and I swear i feel the chill even in my warm room here. The actors, despite being children, deliver a strong depth in their performance. Dark, moody, poignant, I would watch this again just to share with my friends what interesting things you can find when you actually bother to look at the advertisements on the London Underground. Do watch it if you can, before the Americans get to it and spoil it for the rest.

Best. Eponine. Ever.

I always liked Les Miserables. So when I got the chance to see it again in London, I jumped at it. Didn't matter that I had to drag two other friends to come and see, it was so worth it. Even if I had to pay for the other two (which I didn't.)

Completely blew me away. Nostalgic yet new at the same time, with the songs taking on much more meaning and undertones. It is believable that these people have done the show year after year, it was splendid.

I always found Eponine much more outstanding than Cosette, for some reason. The London cast only reinforced that opinion for me. Nancy Sullivan is a fantastic Eponine. Doesn't help that she's a flaxen-haired beauty with the voice of an angel. Sigh. Could a couple more girls like that fall out of trees please?

This is one of my favourite songs from the musical. She's singing about unrequited love. Hopelessly romantic, but it's a thing I do, I guess.

The Horror.

It's amazing what you bump into on random bookshelves in youth hostels. An enterprising bugger actually left a copy of Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness and other stories" on the shelves. Not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, i promptly stole it (well, borrowed) for the duration of my stay.

It took 2-3 nights of nearly falling asleep to make it through the text, but once i was done i couldn't help but go through it again. It's one of those things that you would want to read over and over, poring through the details of the meanings, the depth of the intepretation. On the surface it is a simple tale of restoration, to bring back someone lost in the jungle. Below, the currents draw deep.

What is the heart of darkness that Kurtz and Marlow speak of? Not merely the depth of primeval jungle that Kurtz has imprisoned himself in. Perhaps it is the greed of the merchant trader, willing to do all to take the ivory from the shores of Africa. The will to ignore what happens to others, to forsake the humanity due to the natives, to bind them to his will, and to pillage and plunder wantonly.

Or perhaps it is the darkness of the spirit, that infects those far from civilisation - the darkness drawn not from the exterior surroundings, but rather from a lack of internal nourishment. The lack of companionship, the lack of order, the lack of civility. The complete and utter failure of society to prepare the orderly minds of the educated to face the rawness of the jungle. In that way, the "Heart of Darkness" draws a parallel to "The Lord Of the Flies", but instead of seeing the gradual disappearance of society, we see the effects of a society gone to ground - where supplies sent are squandered, where rule of law exists by whips and guns, where the slaves are slaves due to a meaningless charter, where all that exists is a greed to take and take, without consideration or care.

I like the book. Intend to get it back in Singapore. I think the other two stories are worth reading, if only to place "Heart of Darkness" within context.

Teh Shit.

Writing...

There's a certain satisfaction in writing long emails and blogs. For me its been more of the former than the latter since I arrived in the fair city of Edinburgh. I think its a lost art. The ability to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) and to write sincerely, from the heart, and to let others know about how you're doing.

I think I'm one of those who derive great pleasure from writing. It used to be fiction - I remember loving the freeform composition writing I did in secondary school. Now apparently I get a kick out of talking about my travel experience, writing in a somewhat off-putting mildly disjointed way - But i guess that's the way I'm thinking at the moment. Free-Association mental workings.

I think, well, I'm quite sure I will write a book on my travel experiences. Probably a photo-book kind of thing, with my notes supplementing my favourite photos from my 6 months here. So I have a one man market, but are there any more out there who would buy it?

Gambling.

I had never been a gambling man.

 Well, I claim to scoff at those who make their fortune from the bad plays of others, and disdain the casual wagered games of chance (or skill). Perhaps I just can't play it well? I hope my dislike for the bet goes deeper than that.

I'm straight and narrow. Always on the straight and narrow. A failing perhaps - To always want to know exactly where things are heading, to want to know as much as I can about the future, to find the path laid before me unfurl exactly as planned. Boring? Methodical? You decide. I like seeing my plans put into action. I like knowing what I want to do tomorrow, the day after, the week after, the year after. Well, not exactly in three-dimensional computer simulation kind of detail, but a rough idea would be good.

I was never one to live life on a day to day basis. Even now, on a honeymoon semester in Edinburgh, it shows. My Rainlender is packed - Not with school stuff, but with the things I want to do OUT of school. Carpe Diem, they say. I say Carpe Diem, Carpe Noctis, Carpe Vita.

And that's just me. I like me this way.

Osmonds!

Fantasies

Right now I'm thinking...

Get one of my friends to find a bloody pigs head.

Bring it to the Chem Engin Office in NUS.

Leave it on a certain someone's table.

Tattoo across the head in fluorescent marker (or better yet write it in blood on the wall)

"READ AND REPLY YOUR EMAIL"

People are the same everywhere.

It was hilarious.

I was just in one of my chemical engineering classes (polymer science and engineering, to be exact.) The lecturer was saying that for this module, it will be a self-study guided lecture style, so he expects us to go and read up on the subject matter ourselves, and gather back the week after to discuss the answers to some preset questions he had for us. So he gave us the list of books that we were likely to use, and the call numbers in the library, and ended the lecture early.

And JUST LIKE WHAT I WOULD EXPECT IN SINGAPORE, every single scheming struggling chemical engineer in the bunch made a beeline STRAIGHT to the library, barely after he finished his last sentence. I was lucky to be ahead of the pack, and secured myself a copy of one of the books. Some others weren't as lucky. I think the librarian was shocked at the sudden impulse input of chemical engineers popping in.

Score one for kiasu-ism! When it comes to being kiasu, SINGAPOREANS ROCK.

SNOWFIGHT

I know its another entry about snow, but i can't help it. :)

I received a call from Kit, my HKU friend, telling me everyone's having a huge snowfight at the other end of Pollock Halls. So I gave the 2 girls a quick call, and quickly ran out. Keyword being quick, as it turns out i was desperate for some snowy fun.

Having being cloistered in my room the past 2 hours with the windows drawn, i was pleasantly suprised to see the ground outside coated with a thick (to me. its about 3cm or  4cm) layer of snow. Sensing imminent joy, i quickly ran (as fast as i could on snow, that is) over to Chancellors court. To my suprise, it wasn't just Kit, but the entire group of year 1 Singaporeans and HK people were there!

Heh. I was running like a sissy and screaming like a girl for over an hour. Halfway through I took off my jacket and was throwing snowballs with glee, in my t-shirt and track pants. NO GUTS NO GLORY. I don't think I could feel my fingers after the first 5 minutes, that was lucky. I might have sprained one of them dodging a snowball in bullet-time matrix style motion. As I type now, the feeling is returning to my fingers...... Ouch. really good thing that I couldn't feel my fingers earlier.

Alright, next objective - Cavorting around in the snow in sexy army shorts, and taking pictures to prove my EXTREEEEME nature to the guys. TAKE THAT YOU PUSSIES.

Oh and so sorry I haven't been updating the blog recently. A lot of time goes to updating facebook with my pictures. And blogger is inherently ill equipped to handle mass photo uploading, and facilitating a photostory style layout. Nasty stuff. Will try again when I have more time.

People try to put us d-d-down...

Isn't it a wonder.

It's snowing outside.

It's beautiful.

It's magical.

A soft white down, covering the land like a silky negligee, hiding the colours, the sound, the light.

Falling ephemerally, like dust in the wind.

The trees bare their upturned branches, stretching out like hands to receive the bounty of frost.

And all is quiet.

I hope i never lose my sense of wonder.

For if I do, I will never be as awestruck by such simple feats of nature.

Life is beautiful.