Piece of Brick for Piece of Jade

:-)

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 15 Apr 2015 04:33:00 +0000

:-)

Life is but many puzzles - whatever the consequences, the pressures, the stupidity, the urgency, the lightness, the significance, .... that comes behind it. Whatever. Big, small, gigantic, minuscule, long, short, tall, short, complex, simple ... Whatever. Getting past them is always, ALWAYS, a joy.

YeeeeeeeeEEEES!!

Bird On Wire

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 06:12:00 +0000

Colours

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Thu, 06 Sep 2012 06:00:00 +0000

Blue is the colour of the sky;

Green is the colour of the grass.

Red is the colour of slides;

Silver is the colour of swings.

Vivid is the colour of all in front of her;

Pale is the colour of her vision.

Dark is the colour of her past;

Bleak is the colour of her future.

Heavy is the colour of her heart;

Worried is the colour of her face.

Numb is the colour of her emotion;

Lost is the coluor of her hopes.

Happy is the colour of children playing in the park;

Heavenly is the colour of their laughter.

Contented is the colour of parents looking on.

Lively is the colour of joggers passing by;

Serenity is the colour of elderlies strolling passed.

Infectious is the colour of the air.

Refreshing is the colour of the morning breeze;

Melodious is the colour of the rustling leaves.

Enlightening is the colour of the sunshine.

Transcending is the colour of her mood.

A smile,

slowly colours her face.

Leaves

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Thu, 13 Oct 2011 14:13:00 +0000

Glass Of Water

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 13:26:00 +0000

What would you do when life tastes as bland as a glass of water?

Yeah, what would you do?

Hmmm ... I guess I should first ask why?

Why?

Wait ... Maybe I should first ask: "Really?"

OK. Really?

Are you sure it hasn't always been like this? Has it ever tasted anything tastier than a glass of plain water?

It sure has. Well ... it should have. Hasn't it? Otherwise, knowing how disgusted I feel right now, it would be darn amazing, no, downright miraculous that I can hang on for forty-odd years.

So, the drink offered has suddenly turned tasteless?

Actually, it's been on and off. Just that so far, the blandness would fade in times. This time round, it's been hanging around for a bit too long. So long that I feel up to the brim with nausea.

Well, taste is relative? Isn't it? Perhaps the taste of the water has always been the same, it's your perception of the taste that's changed?

My perception of the taste?

There is a possibility that the glass of water in front of you has never changed, but depending on your emotion, you would taste sweetness when you're happy, fizziness when you're excited, sourness when you're sad, bitterness when you're disappointed, and bittersweet when you're ... sad and happy at the same time, etc, etc.

That's a thought. So, my boredom towards life at the moment explains the blandness?

Well, that's a load of cow dungs! You stupid donkey!! Of course I'm bored!!! Why would I complain if I'm not.

But that does kill off the 'Really?' question.

So I guess it doesn't matter whether the water does taste bland or it's my perception that makes it so. But why?

Yeah, why?

Yeah, why ...

Hey, guess what?

What?

I feel better already.

So bashing me made you feel better?

Don't be silly. I think talking it out with someone did.

Glad I could be of service. But you do know that, technically, you're talking to yourself, right?

I do. Hey, as long as it helps.

We should do it again. I think you have something there on 'my perception of taste' that's worth further exploring.

In the mean time, go away ...

I'll be seeing you again. Just hope it won't be too soon.

No worries. See ya.

Fun In The Tunnel

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 13:16:00 +0000

We were at the local stadium the other day ...

And then my camera was beeping like crazy when we came across this spot ...

Hmmm ...

What can we do here?

OK. Let's warm up.

Now, some serious shots ...

Ultraman!

Sumo wrestler!

Kung Fu!

And ...

Lift Off!

And ... that's a wrap.

Yipee!!

Look Left, Look Right. Look Up, Look Down.

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 13:18:00 +0000

Camera. Lake.

Shooting session.

Hazy sky.

Dull.

Hmmm ...

Diversion.

Better. Not enough.

Joe's advice.

I remembered.

Another thought ...

And other thoughts.

Look left. Look right.

Ahh ...

Lacking punch.

Look left. Look right.

Aha ...

Look up. Look down.

AHA!!

Like it.

Light.

Dance!

Smile.

Pleased.

Pack up.

Numbers In Pink

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 13 Jul 2011 13:18:00 +0000

What would you do,

if your purpose in life is simply to

rest,

bloom,

be beautiful,

and be admired?

Inviting Pinks.

Dancing Pinks.

Rising Pinks.

Revealing Pinks.

Curious Pinks.

Glorious Pinks.

Just Pink.

Before The Sun Rises

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Fri, 08 Jul 2011 12:33:00 +0000

Midnight. Darkness.

Bursts, of Brightness.

Captured,

Something Shiny.

Something Red.

And Something Yellow.

* Inspired by Ann of Ann's Snap Edit & Scrap.

While We Are On The Moon

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 13:33:00 +0000

Moon shines;

Moon bright.

Moon shy;

Moon hides.

And here's another one of my favourites with the moon.

.

Moon River

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 12:33:00 +0000

"Hi! Whatcha doing?"

A sweet and gentle voice broke my concentration. A voice that has always reminded me of my beloved grandma.

As I turned away from the screen in front of me, my heart was overwhelmed with warmth, seeing a long lost friend.

"Writing," I replied. Well, that's what I call it anyway.

"Been a long time," I sighed. I felt a trace of guilt within me.

"Yeah, too long," she agreed. I was relieved not to sense any tint of resentment in her voice, one so trustworthy and soothing that I could feel the immediate dissipation of all tension and exhaustion away from me.

"C'mon up," she invited.

How could I resist.

Like climbing up the fire escape stairs to her window, I found myself ascending slowly towards her.

Suddenly, the tingling sense of excitement of my first ride years ago came rushing back to me. Although unlike the first, there's no fear diluting the thick of excitement this time.

As I rose higher, the change in the altitude was accompanied by the once familiar change of colours around me.

The harsh darkness ebbed, its void gradually permeated by the flow of gentle purples.

And the gentle purples slowly transcended into the comforting blue.

As I left my worldly bundles further below me, the clearer was the heavenly blue that engulfed me. With a warmth as cool as she, there's no room for any earthly weight in my heart.

A smile slowly curled up on my face, and it culminated into a shout of joy, "Oh, how I miss you!"

When I heard my happiness echoed through the vastness of the sky, I suddenly felt sheepish, "Oops..."

My embarrassment was met with a string of kind and comforting words, "Oh, how I miss you too!"

I felt as light as the floating clouds around us.

"So, tell me what've been going on in the past ten years," she inquired.

I started filling her up on my marriage, my kids, my changes in career, my constant fear of uncertainties of the future, my intermittent siege of loneliness, my mistakes and my regrets, my disgust towards the monotony of life etc, etc.

I was going on for so long I started to sense the "me, me, me, me, me ...". I then apologetically asked, "And how have you been?"

She smiled, "Oh, I'm fine." She then added, "I've learned a new trick. Want to see?"

"Of course!"

"But you need to shut your eyes three times for this trick to work."

"OK."

"Ready?"

"Brrruu ..." I bursted, my lips didn't open fast enough for my laughter to come out.

Not really sure how to react to the smiley, I remarked, "You're many things, but you're not really a good painter. Hahaha ... "

"Yeah? I thought so too," she smiled.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, what for?"

"You know, for dispersing the cloud of negativity," I said.

She smiled. I remembered that knowing smile.

"But surely, you have something better for me," I wasn't entirely satisfied.

"Of course, my dear. But you've got to prepare yourself," she said.

"Ooookay ..." with the biggest smiley face I've ever seen shown moments earlier, I wasn't really sure how to prepare myself this time.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

The shine slowly expanded.

The brightness grew brighter and brighter. At a faster and faster pace.

And brighter. And faster.

And brighter. Faster.

Brighter. Faster.

Brighter. Faster.

Brighter. Faster. Brighter. Faster ...

Could.

Hardly.

Keep.

My.

Eyes ... Open!

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

Oh.

My.

GOD!

WOW!!!

As soon as the flares flashed to its brightest, everything fell sharply into darkness.

Total darkness.

Utter silence.

Absolute still.

Trembling. I was trying to take in all that I could feel at that moment.

Then suddenly, a soft glow emerged.

The glow lasted for a few seconds and dropped back into darkness again. She reappeared.

I was overwhelmed by excitement and awe. I was "awe-ver-whelmed" - well, she had the smiley face ...

"Wo! What can I say," a murmur was all that I could manage, "that's like the loudest firework display I've seen, with no sound."

"You could say, 'Awesome'?" she smiled.

"Awesome!" I concurred.

We both laughed.

As the laughter echoed off into the deep boundless space, after the magnificent show, there seemed nothing better to do than gazing into the sea of stars beyond and just ponder.

It seemed we'd been admiring the wonders of the universe forever, but yet, it didn't feel enough when finally her gentle voice broke the silence, "Hey ... time to go."

I paused at the reminder.

"Already?" I was reluctant. But I knew she was right.

Just as slowly as I'd ascended, I descended. My eyes couldn't break away from her, and I could feel her giving me a soft hug.

Then suddenly Frank's voice sailed across the night, "Moon river, wider than a mile ..."

I respect Sinatra, but at that moment, I thought his voice was a bit too strong, "Sinatra?"

"Well, OK. Your choice," she offered.

Without hesitation, I requested, "What about Miss Hepburn?"

"You've got it!"

As Ms Hepburn lulled, my eyes were getting heavier with every word she whispered.

Moon River, wider than a mile.

I'm crossing you in style, some day.

Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,

wherever you're going, I'm going your way.

Two drifters off to see the world.

There's such a lot of world to see.

We're after the same rainbow's end.

Waiting 'round the bend,

my huckleberry friend,

Moon River ...

... and me.

As she faded further and further away, I mumbled, "G'nite ..."

"Good night, my dear ..."

And I fell into complete darkness ...

Hi!

Whatcha doin'?

Writing.

Huh ...

"Hey, wake up. Rise and shine, it's good morning."

Meet Joe

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 15 Jun 2011 13:33:00 +0000

Last Sunday, when I drove past our town's public football field I noticed that our little fountain by the field was given its purpose of existence. Usually, it doesn't have jets of water spouting out to make it more than just a concrete structure, or so I notice. So that afternoon, wanting to try out my new camera and sharpen my photography skill, I returned to the place for a practice session on the fountain.

When I reached there, I noticed a couple was feeding a flock of pigeons beside the fountain, and my photographic target changed.

I was excited about the sudden and occasional lift-offs of the pigeons, which had its aural and visual impacts in real life. But through my camera? Clutters.

But that's probably down to my photographic skill.

As I was going through the shots I'd taken on my camera's LCD screen, suddenly I heard a voice, "Hey, stupid! You don't have a focus!"

As I looked around, peoples were playing football, throwing frisbees, walking and jogging so far away from me that the voice was too near to not arouse my suspicion.

"Hey, over here!"

This time, I managed to trace the voice, to a pigeon, balancing itself on a wire above me.

A talking pigeon?

Who cares. What really interested me more wasn't why it could talk, but what it was saying.

"I had a focus. The camera said so," I argued.

"No, dummy. Focus as in a subject for your picture!" the pigeon explained.

I planted a light slap on my forehead, "Of course!", and pointed my camera towards the pigeons and started clicking again.

"Gee, that's better," I sighed and turned to look for the talking pigeon to express my gratitude. But he wasn't on the wire anymore. As I was trying to locate him amongst the flock on the ground, he made himself seen and his words heard, "They could be better, you know."

"Yeah? How?", this time I was all ears.

"You're holding a Nikon D5100 with a multi-angle LCD screen, aren't you?", the pigeon inquired.

"Boy, you're good!", I couldn't hide my amazement.

"Well, perspective, my boy! Perspective!" the pigeon remarked.

Another slap on my forehead, and another round of shootings.

Great!

Well, at least I'm satisfied.

After another fifteen minutes of shooting, I was ready to go. As I was walking toward my car, the pigeon's voice rang again, "You know, what you called clutters just now weren't all that bad. Go through them and see what you can do with some image editing functions."

I nodded in appreciation. "Hey, a picture before I go?" I asked.

And Joe complied. Yeah, his name is Joe.

Joe was right. After going through the 'clutters', with my limited knowledge on image editing I managed to come out with these.

Not great. But they didn't turn out too bad, did they?

Well, at least I'm satisfied.

Oh, by the way ...

Meet Joe -

He Ain't Heavy

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Tue, 07 Jun 2011 12:33:00 +0000

He's my brother.

Light and Enlightenment

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 13:33:00 +0000

I was never into photography, until a few weeks ago. And that's because I'm a cheapskate.

We decided to get an entry-level DSLR camera a few weeks ago. Not too expensive, not cheap either. So I figure to get the most out of it, I would have to take as many pictures with the camera as possible to drive the cost per picture down, and thus diluting the digestible-but-still-hard-to-swallow investment in the camera. So, I dug into the camera's manual, and ploughed through photography web sites trying to empower myself to squeeze even more juice from the camera. And I was caught surprised.

My previous experience in photography was nothing more than taking a point-and-shoot camera (a term I learned only recently) and taking photos of the person or persons in front of me, while trying not to cut off their heads. As I was trying to get a clearer picture of what digital photography can achieve, I suddenly realised that photography is so much more than what I thought it was.

While I was trying to get my head around the concepts of exposure, aperture, shutter speed, ISO, white balance, HDR, D-lighting, bracketing etc, etc, I came to realise that most of these functions are not just trying to capture what we see, they actually allow us to transcend what we see into what we perceive. This goes way beyond of what I, a photographic ignorant, thought about photography before - to simply capture what we see. But there's probably a very good reason to the existence of these exciting features.

The camera is trying to emulate the sophisticated mechanism that is our eyes with these functions. While these functions fail to achieve the flexibility of our eyes, they actually open up a whole spectrum of creative possibilities by enabling us to inject our aesthetic colours and hues into what we see. I know, I know ... photography has been around for ages, and I'm probably the last one to realise this. But while I was gradually taking in the ideas of this art form of light, and thrilled to have found a new toy (much like what I have discovered with this blog), another thought slowly surfaced in my mind -

Photography is actually going the opposite direction of Buddhism.

If anyone asks about my religion, I would claim to be a Buddhist. However, if the knowledge of Buddhism is like an ocean, my understanding of it is only as much as dipping my legs into the river that feeds into the ocean. So not there yet. My grasp of Buddhism is that, without over-simplification, in life, an apple is an apple, nothing more, nothing less. To attain peace within ourselves, we should accept it as an apple wholeheartedly without any other thoughts like one apple is not enough, or I prefer a red to a green apple, or I rather have apple juice, or why am I not getting an orange, etc.

Having thought that, it dawned on me that when we're trying to paint our artistic vision of colours and shades over the photograph of an apple, we're actually heading away from the teaching of Buddhism, or rather my understanding of Buddhism.

Not a bad thing, but it's food for thoughts.

No matter.

I just want to announce that in the future, there will be more photos being posted here in this blog. And hopefully, that's as delicious as an apple.

Thought of The Day

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Tue, 24 May 2011 13:26:00 +0000

There I was, trying to catch up with my breath sitting on the bench panting. My T-shirt was being given a pre-soak with salt water before laundry. There's really no feeling more alive than oozing out sweat like the faucets are broken in a hot Sunday afternoon.

Sunday afternoon is one of my favourite times of the week, playing games of badminton with a group of friends. But it's also times like these that I realise I'm middle-aged. But that's not the thought of the day. That thought announced its grand entrance a few years ago when I hurt my back lifting something I lifted with my little finger way back then.

With no regular exercises in the past, fifteen minutes of running and hitting the shuttlecock is all I can afford before passing out on the court.

So there I was, panting and celebrating the survival of another round of 'gruelling' game of badminton - of which running is to what the youngsters call strolling, and smashing is to what they call stroking - outside the hall. There were a few guys from another group chatting not far away from me. Some of them were drinking, and two of them were smoking (yeah, beats me too). But that's not the thought of the day.

Then a few of them stood up and walked towards the hall. It's a badminton hall, so all doors would be closed to prevent any draft into the hall. But some of them were left unlocked and unlatched to let the players in and out. The doors opened outwards and there were no handles on the outsides of the doors, probably to prevent unauthorised breaking in or whatever.

After the first few of them entered the hall using a slightly ajar door, they closed the door. A few minutes later, the last two followed. And before they reach the door, my fingers were feeling a bit tingly thinking how they would try to pry and pull open the doors with their hands. But that was me, definitely not the smartest guy in the world. No, that's not the thought of the day either.

As the guys approached the door, one of them raised his hand and, to my surprise, gave the door a slight push. The laws of physics are the laws of physics, they stick. As the door was pushed, it hit the frame and bounced back, leaving it slightly opened, and in they went.

There I was, panting still, hitting an imaginative slap on my sweaty forehead - "How clever!"

As in many other cases, little things in life can teach us a lot of other things about life. It would seem obvious that if we want something in life, we would think of all ways to pull them towards us. But sometimes, the most effective way is not the most obvious way, and it might need a little out-of-the-box thinking. From this observation, it would imply that sometimes, to pull something towards us, we need to first give it a little push, like ..., or as in ..., you know, in those situation where ... hmm ...

I'm very sure the above lesson can be applied in some real life situation, but my thinking train was a bit slow, especially when I was trying to chase back my breathes. As I said, not the smartest guy in the world. And that's also where my train of thoughts was derailed by the thought of the day. The one that gave the light bulb above my head a ten-thousands-watts glare -

"Hey, I have a subject for a post in this blog!"

In-Between

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Tue, 17 May 2011 12:33:00 +0000

The day turns; the night nears.

A day fulfilled; a night unveiled.

Setting sun; rising moon.

A tiring satisfaction; a soothing anticipation.

Twilight, the in-between.

Mind-numbling Mondays

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Mon, 09 May 2011 14:33:00 +0000

Monday sucks.

The most difficult part of Mondays is waking up. Yet physically, it's the easiest - all you have to do is open your eyes and get out of bed. But really, it's like pulling a ten tonnes wooden cart towards the light ahead. If you had an early Sunday night, two steps forward and you're there. If you had spent the night at your favourite pub, then you would probably have to sweat it out a few more steps. Should you accept the one-for-the-road-drink once too often, then it'll be half a mile ahead, on a forty-five-degree slope, upward.

Hard as it is, it's the first thing that needs to be done. The good thing is, if you manage to get through it, you would have lifted off from the lowest point of the week. Better, but still sucks.

I try to get through most Mondays like a robot - emotionless - which I think is the best way. I would blank out my thoughts and just do what need to be done, one step at a time. Brushing teeth - personal hygiene. Done. Eating breakfast - energy to get through the day. Done. Driving - to go to work. Done. Work - livelihood. C'mon, let's go! Wait ... that's a Friday battle cry. On Monday, it's more like, OooooK, let's do it.

The method of execution is important. Focus.

Brushing teeth is nothing more than rubbing my teeth and gum with a toothpaste-topped toothbrush. Breakfast is simply putting edible stuff into the mouth and chewing and swallowing. Driving is merely stepping on the right pedal to go, and the left pedal to brake - or is it the other way round? See what I mean about focusing? Get the job done, nothing more, nothing less.

The same principle applies at work. For example, there's an activity that I need to repeat through the day for about seven or eight times to get my job done. So while I'm doing it, I would blank out the numbers, forget about the frustration on how many more times that I need to do it. Focus on the job and just do it. Nothing more, nothing less. Before you knew it, it will be the last time I'll be doing it for the day.

Hopefully, nothing that requires more time and effort than deciding on whether to chew my food twenty times or twenty one times during lunch would pop up during work, and I would be done by the time my work needs to be done. If anything does pop up, curse for a few minutes and get into it again. Focus and just do it. Nothing more, nothing less.

Driving home after work on Mondays is probably the best part of the day. One down, and <number blanked out> to go. My spirit is starting to soar.

Once I reach home, my mind will start to wonder a little bit. It is allowed to wonder a little bit. It will attach more emotions to dinner, tv programs, my children's homework, the blogs I read, etc.

On a reflective thought though, I wonder if that's not the way to live our lives? Focus and just do it. Nothing more, nothing less. But that's probably too much grinding for my brain on a Monday night, so is editing this post for the n-th time.

That would leave the next best thing to do to be done - hitting the bed early to get the day dusted and done with.

Sweet dream ...

Whatcha Doin'?

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 04 May 2011 13:33:00 +0000

Jeremy is probably a bit bland. Candace is slightly better. But Doofenshmirtz? Now, that's a name! It'll twist your tongue silly, but it's still a hit. Then there are Phineas and Ferb.

There's a hundred and four days of summer vacation and school comes along just to end it ...

Did you just read the words above, or sing them?

I don't really get Cartoon Network. Not all of them anyway. I can probably understand why Ben 10 or The Powerpuff Girls are favourites of my kids. Cow and Chicken? Courage the Cowardly Dog? The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy? I fail to see the cuteness in them. Hardly adorable.

I find Nickelodeon slightly better. But my kids don't watch them that much.

On Disney Channel though, my kids can watch the same episode of Phineas and Ferb for the fifth or sixth or the thirteenth time and still get glued to the tv. Even though they can already blurt out lines of the characters, they would still laugh at the same scene. So would I.

I can't always remember the exact words the characters said, but I still get a good laugh and enjoy the show the fifth or sixth or the thirteenth time. There are plenty of adult humours and pop-cultural references in the show. I can't remember Scooby Doo, or Popeye the Sailor Man having those back in my childhood days. Perhaps unlike the old days, parents nowadays spend more times with the kids in front of the tv, and the networks are trying to cater for that. Whatever the reason, as long as I don't have to elaborate too painstakingly to my kids why I'm laughing and they're not, and I reckon I need to join them in one of their favourite pastimes, I'm not complaining one bit.

Apart from the fun and humours, what I admire most about the show is its creativity.

The plot of the show is simple - a sister who is obsessed with busting her younger brothers' outrageous and fun inventions to her mom; a secret agent who doubles as a pet platypus to the kids' family trying to foil the evil plots of an evil, but lovable scientist; and the eventual coming together of these two story arcs which leaves both the sister and the evil scientist in frustration over their endeavours.

The show repeats the same plot every episode with different way of carrying out the plot. Throw in some well-timed amusing catchphrases like, "I know what we're going to do today", "Whatcha doin'?", "Hey, aren't you a little young ...", "Yes. Yes I am", etc and catchy songs, and some hilarious reactions to the ending - my favourite is Candace, in all helplessness, going, "b-b-b-b-but, b-b-b-b-but ...." - and it's a very enjoyable fifteen minutes.

When I can put anything I fancy in this blog of mine and yet fail to make regular posting like even once a week, it's really a joy to watch the show and admire its creative creativity (see what I lack?).

Hey, where's Perry?

Phineas and Ferb - are they even real names?

A Dream, A Letter and A Song

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Sat, 23 Apr 2011 15:33:00 +0000

Dear D,

I dreamed of you again last night. Well, 'again' after a long, long time. It's been a while since I had you in my mind, or my dream. Not sure why after such a long absence you had decided to walk into my dream again.

They say dreams are a manifestation of your thoughts during the day. I didn't recall thinking of you lately, not consciously anyway. Maybe it's the way it has been raining these past few days.

As in the past few days, today the rain was right on cue to close off a hot tropical day, shortly after the world has pulled on its blankets of stars and moon. However, the stellar decorations are nowhere to be seen these few nights. As silently as a bird flying across the sky, and as softly as the feather touches, the rain arrived, much to our delights. Accompanied by the cooling night breeze, the change in atmosphere does make one feel sentimental.

'Rain is the sound of missing you' - that's the words that had really etched into my heart a few days ago when I was watching a movie. Perhaps the rain had reminded me of you, or how I miss you.

It was a good dream. You know how we always wake up from dreams when it reaches the highlight? The highlight of my dream? Us holding hands.

I can't recall most of the details of the dream. Maybe it had brought us back to where we first met. Maybe it had played back the times when we fight over your dream and my dream. Maybe it had brought me back to the times when we played a joke on the old man at the grocery store, or the time we went biking during the rain by the beach ... The dream was fuzzy with all these mixed emotions. But I vividly remember this - us holding hand. It's funny how at that moment, the excitement and butterflies when our hands first held each other was mixed into the feelings of warmth and contentment from the moments after. And there's a surging sense of happiness of seeing you again to counter with the underlying sadness of missing you. Whatever the outcome, I guess the feeling was too overwhelming for the dream to continue. And these sensations have lingered from the moment I woke up until now.

I was a bit downcast in the morning, missing you I guess. Although it was no way near as sad as the day that you left. But it was heavy nonetheless, like a cloud hanging heavy low above me. But by the end of the day, the cloud dispersed. Happier memories have slowly and silently crept back into my thoughts. Much like how you crept behind me trying to scare me in those days. Remember? I smiled at that thought, along with the sunshine, laughters, us skipping and dancing, in the rain, under the hot sun ... and your smile. In the end, my feet was going tap, tap-tap, tap, tap ... tap, tap-tap, tap, tap ... as lightly as walking on clouds.

I've been wearing a smile ever since the song started playing in my ears again ...

Fast Forward

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 14:33:00 +0000

I am over forty years old, but I wish I was eighty ... no, sixty years old now.

These few years will probably be the happiest time of my life. There's a steady, but could be better, income, and no short to medium term worries about food, clothings or accommodation. I still have my health in good condition, although I am starting to feel that certain screws and nuts within me are starting to loosen. I'm not an ambitious man, so all is fine. I'm happy. Most importantly, I have a lovely family with two adorable kids who, I think, also adores me. By this last blessing alone, I can easily declare that this will be the happiest time of my life.

I'm living in probably the happiest time of my life, yet I cannot fully enjoy it.

Like a swarm of flies, problems and worries, work related or otherwise, would not stop buzzing irritatingly around my head. There are no major issues, they won't kill me and they are not anything that I cannot solve, and I accept them as parts and parcels of life like I accept laughters and sunshines. But their ever-presence and persistence are annoying.

It's easy to say 'The gem cannot be polished without friction nor man without trials', or 'Adversities are the spices of life', or 'The art of living lies less in eliminating our troubles than in growing with them', or 'Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around', or simply 'Don't worry, be happy'. All valid, and all I truly believe. They all work. But, still, easier said than done. It takes times to turn the mentality around and turn those pests into solid grounds, or gems, or spices, or artistic works. And if it takes longer than my patience, I will start to get frustrated.

I'm at the happiest stage of my life, and I want to enjoy it! Fully. Totally. Completely. Every single day. Maybe I am asking too much from life.

As each day passes, I am slowly heading out of my current stage of life towards the next, which will probably be less enjoyable. I want to enjoy my life now as much as possible. In addition to the realisation that 40's is not young anymore, I am a bit desperate. I don't want these problems and worries hanging low above me blocking my full view of a clear blue sky. They might not turn into a storm, or they might get blown away, but nobody can focus in the present for ever without looking up once in a while and ponder upon the future.

Childhood was good. All we do is wake up, eat, play, eat some more, play a little bit more and sleep. Carefree. Adolescence was fantastic - friends, parties, outings, crushes. Vibrant. Early stage of adulthood was great - everyday was an adventure, every step was a new frontier conquered. Exciting. Ah ... great time. Happy time. Enjoyable time. Upon hind sight.

Looking back, reluctance to study during childhood seems petty; peer pressure during adolescence appears insignificant; job worries during early adulthood looks immaterial. Looking back, all seems rosy. But, of course, these problems and worries were as heavy then as the problems and worries that I'm facing now. In retrospect, they are weightless.

So, it would seem that to really enjoy and truly appreciate my present life, I need to be in my 60's this instant and live my life in the 40's now.

Of course, by the time I really get to 60 years old, I would probably wish that I was 80 years old. And at 80's, maybe I would wish that I was dead.

Time Is Of Essence

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Mon, 04 Apr 2011 13:33:00 +0000

There are posts and there are posts.

There is this post that is trying to decipher the codes of life, and this post that's drawing a picture.

This post is trying to solve a murder mystery.

This post was woven out of threads of fiction, and this post was plucked from the ethereality of Zen. There is also this post about the 'H' word.

Not forgetting this post that is brimming with parental love.

And there's even a post about Entrecards in the old days, and a few on how I used to thank my top droppers back then.

There are so many posts here, each and every one my favourite. And each and every one is, ahem, worth a visit.

But this post is here because of my last post, which if read on any other day than the day it was published, would be less relevant.

This post is here to banish my last post into the posts of the past.

And it gives me a chance to hard-sell my older posts. Buying?

That's It!

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Fri, 01 Apr 2011 10:36:00 +0000

Enough is enough.

I’ve always used this blog to satisfy my desire to be creative, and I rarely put in any real emotions, or use this space to reveal my true self. But this post, for a change, will fill with my real-life rants and what I think of my marriage and my wife. Tsk, my wife.

I’ve been married to this woman for thirteen years. And that’s twelve years too long. The first year was great. Everyday seemed like an adventure, every moment together was filled with warmth and tingling with joy, and every night was a standing ovation for a great day. No regret.

But then things started to change.

Looking back, I do play a part in the whole situation. Back then, my business wasn’t going smoothly. But doesn’t every new business face its ups and downs? Perhaps it’s the lack of time spent together, or perhaps it was the lack of financial security, but loving glances started to mix with contempt; gentle touches started to harden with coldness; intimate conversation was turning into fights.

Perhaps I was too busy with my business, or perhaps I was still too deep in love, as the fight revolved around issues that were pettier by the days, it suddenly hit me last week. That and my finding that our savings in our joint account was left with a balance of a few thousands. At its peak, the balance in the account was at two hundred thousands. What a fool!

This woman not only took away my times, my emotions, and now my money! I should have noticed, all the expensive handbags, the expanding wardrobe, the premium gym’s membership, the vacation trips to Europe with her friends … What a fool!

Dang! Fool! I’m my wife’s Fool!

And my wife’s name is April.

The End of The World

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Mon, 28 Mar 2011 13:36:00 +0000

Yes, the world will finally come to an end. The baby dragon inside Earth is ready to hatch. The atmosphere around the egg is finally favourable enough, and the eggshell will crack. Yes, we are mere germs living on the egg shell of a planet-size egg. And our climate warming? Artificial incubation.

Or the end will come because the moon is finally old enough and clumsy enough to inevitably lose its balance and stumble straight onto Earth; or the sun will be finally so pissed off by our ignorance that it'll throw flames of million, billion, gerzillion degrees all over Earth and has himself a barbecue.

Or a brick will fall right onto our heads and knock us dead. That's it, the end of the world.

With the recent instances of catastrophes of earth quakes, tsunamis, floods, mud slides, etc in frequency quicker than the incessant sneezing during a cold, it's not surprising that the-end-of-the-world-is-coming theories are surfacing to spread the dooms and glooms here and there. And I have to admit, once in a while, my pessimistic self would get so frivolously optimistic and my optimistic self would get so downright pessimistic that they'll drag my whole self down and succumb to such fear.

But here's a thought - if somehow you get an update (either by a text or a dream, an sms or an mms, a status update or a tweet, an email or a snail mail) from God, or whatever ultimate being that you believe is controlling our fate, that this is it, game over, the journey has reached an end, the final petal of the rose has fallen, the water has run dry, no more time, the world will go bust within three months, or any length of times, would you go spread the message?

There's no question of hallucination. The fate of the world is as sure as the fate of an egg under the feet of a stomping dinosaur. This is it. Would you go tell everyone what you know?

Assured that nobody will throw rotten eggs at you or ridicule you, everybody will believe unreservedly in what you say, would you stand up on a chair, put up your hands, raise you voice and shout, "The world is coming to an end!"

Would you? Would you?

WHO CARES!!

THE WORLD IS COMING TO AN END!!!

AN END!!!!!!

My Rainbow Journey

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 13:36:00 +0000

Why are there so many songs about rainbows,

and what's on the other side.

It started when I came across a video somebody posted on Facebook in the morning - a cover version of one of my favourite song. A song that had slipped from my mind for too long - Rainbow Connection.

Jason Mrat and Paul Williams.

(By the way, if you get the song writer to sing a song he wrote, is it still considered as a 'cover version'?)

It's morning, the song slowly pulled my yet-to-be-up mood with its jazzy tempo back to the depth of my mind.

As the song ended, I was left swirling in the song still for a good thirty seconds. Being in the age of internet and all, I then googled (is this an official word yet?) the song. Not surprisingly (although I was surprised), there are numerous cover versions of the song.

Sarah McLachlan.

Sarah McLachlan represents one of the artists whose songs fell into a period of my life where I was slightly detached from the world of entertainment and pop culture. So, her version didn't hit a resonance in me. But Willie's did.

Willie Nelson.

Perhaps it was how the song was told, maybe it was the presentation of the video - how it interspersed between colours and black and white, present and past, youth and age, innocence and wisdom, or the worn out instruments; Willie's lined face, his white beard and his age-scarred voice which painted a hue of melancholy over the song, brought out the harshness of life and expressed the futile and never ending search of what lies beyond ... I was moved.

But not as much as the next version that I found to my pleasant surprise.

Karen Carpenter.

That was the first time I heard her voice over the song.

I grew up with The Carpenters, hearing my elder cousins playing their tapes and records. But their songs didn't endear themselves to me then. And although I vaguely knew about Karen Carpenter's death back then, I felt no sadness.

Years later when I was studying away from home, Karen's voice slowly etched into my heart. And later when I read back about her untimely death, sorrow overflew.

Hearing the Carpenters-like opening, the introduction by the toy piano (and I thought the off-key was an especially nice touch), the familiar arrangement, the filling-in of the flutes, the horns, the strings and the piano, and her voice open the door to a spectrum of familiar and mellow emotions. As soon as she sang, I was immediately drawn into the song. The way her voice carried the words of the song, and how she strung them together kindled an intimate warmth within.

By the end of the song, I was almost in tears. The sentimental fool that was me. Like they said, I hope she found her rainbow.

Although, if the song is not sung by a muppet, my journey would not be complete.

Kermit the Frog.

Childhood. Innocence. Carefree thoughts about what were beyond milk and cereals, playgrounds, books and studies, lunch, friends and laughters, schoolmates, fights, showers and soaps, dinner, bedtimes and stories, and sleeps and dreams.

A rainbow is a rainbow. That's the seven thick lines of different colours magically painted across the sky in a perfect half circle after a rain. Rainbow.

Although, what DO lies on the other side? What's a vision? Illusion? Who painted it? The lovers? The dreamers? Or, me? And yeah, why are there so many songs about rainbows?

Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,

and rainbows have nothing to hide.

So we've been told and some choose to believe it.

I know they're wrong, wait and see.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.

The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered

when wished on the morning star?

Somebody thought of that and someone believed it.

Look what it's done so far.

What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing

and what do we think we might see?

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.

The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic.

Have you been half asleep

and have you heard voices?

I've heard them calling my name.

Is this the sweet sound that called the young sailors?

The voice might be one and the same.

I've heard it too many times to ignore it.

It's something that I'm supposed to be.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.

The lovers, the dreamers and me.

La La La Li La La Lu,

La La La La La Li La Lu ...

So I Thought

noreply@blogger.com (Buzzing J) — Sun, 06 Mar 2011 13:36:00 +0000

And I thought life had been treating me harsh.