Peccatum Tacituritatis

honey...something's wrong huh?

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 00:13:00 +0000

Things happen. People do things. I mean it's not pretty.. It's not Disney.. But it's the real world.
You don't want a life separate from them...but that's all they can give you. But you don't want that. They don't get it.
And you wait.

God you wait.

It's like they're driving a car..and you just wanna be in the passenger seat. But they've locked the door..so you have to hold on to the bumper. You know..you're not even asking them to open the door for you. Just...leave it unlocked and say 'come in'.

But no.
They don't do that.

So you're hanging onto the bumper and life goes on.
And the car goes on.
And you get really badly bruised and hit potholes..and it hurts.
I mean it hurts.
So eventually you need to let go of the bumper because it hurts too much.
It hurts too much.

How long's it been??

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 23:57:00 +0000

Who knows...almost a year? meh.
In that time I've retired..I've retired..become a stupid student again..and I want to retire.
It's not looking good.
Although. The intermediate portions in between were interesting. Who knew that being extremely happy & incredibly sad at the same time actually tended to negate the happy. How awful's that? Doesn't seem fair. Now if I was supreme ruler of the galaxy and physical laws followed my teachings..then the world would be a much better place.
Amen.

And here it is again. Almost 3 years later.

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts

That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair

And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about

And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint

And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames

And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about

And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her

That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch

And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about

And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.

...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 09:13:00 +0000

It's often said that no matter the truth.. People see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out they were looking at the same big picture all along. Some people might see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

And then there are those other people.. The ones who run as far as they can..

So they don't have to look at themselves.

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 13:44:00 +0000

At this moment there are 6,502,867,120 people in the world, give or take a few. And sometimes all you need is one. For better or worse.

There is a tide in the affairs of men... Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. But omitted, and the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and miseries... On such a full sea are we now afloat... And we must take the current when it serves... Or lose the ventures before us.

As happens sometimes a moment settled...And hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped...for much, much more than a moment.

And then the moment was gone.

The best rendition of happy birthday ever!

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 13:24:00 +0000

Ok here you are working hard.

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 13:11:00 +0000

Looking suspiciously around for any potential ball-thieves.
With both hands grabbing the ball like it's gold.
And proof of the hard work in the spaghetti strap knee tape.
Well done!

Now Pearline...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 13:09:00 +0000

I know you'll feel left out...cos everyone wants to be in the cool defensive unit... so... yes. We like you too.

I like this photo...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 12:59:00 +0000

*Ahem* the defensive unit! (The C is so not included).

Notice how GD is all tired with her eyes closed...cos she worked sooo hard.

The GK...she worked LESS in her ONE THIRD..but the head tilt suggests some fatigue.

Now let's focus on the WD. Who's so UN-TIRED that she can march off like she's at the NDP.

...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 01:00:00 +0000

It is man’s ability to remember that sets us apart. We are the only species concerned with the past. Our memories give us voice.. Bear witness to history..
So that others might learn.
So they may celebrate our triumphs.
And be warned of our failures.

There are many ways to define our fragile existence.. Many ways to give it meaning.

But it is our memories that shape its purpose… Give it context.
A private assortment of images, fears, loves, regrets..

For it is the cruel irony of life that we are destined to hold the dark with the light.. The good with the evil.. Success with disappointment.

This is what separates us.. It makes us human.

And in the end..
What we must fight to hold on to.

Previously on survivor...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 13:16:00 +0000

No... wait.

It's Prison Break. Prison Break, Panama.

Right.

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 07 Oct 2007 13:06:00 +0000

The sun rises on a new dawn. Yet few of us realize the debt we owe to those responsible for this. To those who dwell among us.

Anonymous.

Seemingly ordinary.

Who destiny brought together to repair. To heal.

To save us from ourselves.

And they’re still out there.

Among us. In the shadows. In the light. We pass them on the street without a glance.

Never suspecting.

Never knowing.

Do they even know yet? That they are bound together by common purpose.
A glaring reality.
To be extraordinary.

And when destiny does anoint them, how do they hide from it? How long can they dwell in the shadows before either fate or their own flawed humanity draws them out into the light, again.

How will they know what awaits them when it finally does?

The final epilogue...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 02:26:00 +0000

In an interview and online chat, Rowling gave additional information on the futures of the main characters that she chose not to include in the epilogue of the book. She stated that:

Harry becomes an Auror for the Ministry of Magic, and is later appointed head of the department. He keeps Sirius's motorcycle, which Arthur Weasley repaired for him, but he can no longer speak Parseltongue after Voldemort's soul fragment inside him was destroyed.
Ginny Weasley plays for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team for a time, leaves to establish a family with Harry and later becomes the lead Quidditch correspondent for the Daily Prophet.
Ron Weasley works at George's store, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, then joins Harry as an Auror.
Hermione finds her parents in Australia and removes the memory modification charm she put on them. She initially works for the Ministry of Magic in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, greatly improving life for house elves and their ilk. She later moves to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and assists in eradicating oppressive, pro-pureblood laws.

Rowling also explained the fates of several secondary characters:

George Weasley continues his successful joke shop and names his first child Fred, in memory of his late twin brother.
Luna Lovegood searches the world for odd and unique creatures. She eventually marries Rolf, a grandson of the famed naturalist, Newt Scamander. Her father's publication, The Quibbler, has returned to its usual condition of "advanced lunacy" and is appreciated for its unintentional humour.
Firenze is welcomed back into his herd, who finally acknowledge the virtue of his pro-human leanings.
Dolores Umbridge is arrested, interrogated, and imprisoned for crimes against Muggle-borns.

There have been transformations in the wider wizarding world:

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the permanent Minister for Magic, with Percy Weasley working under him as a high official. Among the reforms introduced by Shacklebolt, Azkaban no longer uses Dementors. Consequently, the world is now a "much sunnier place". Harry, Ron, and Hermione have also been instrumental in reforming the Ministry.
At Hogwarts, Slytherin House has become more diluted and is no longer the pureblood bastion it once was, although its dark reputation lingers.
Voldemort's jinx on the Defence Against the Dark Arts (DADA) position is broken with his death. There is now a permanent DADA teacher.
A portrait of Snape, who briefly served as Hogwarts Headmaster, does not appear in the headmaster's office as he abandoned his post. Harry intends to lobby for the addition of Snape's portrait, and publicly reveals Snape's steadfastness.

Larger than life..

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 01:37:00 +0000

By Melbournian Don Mueck...

I stole this from Jean...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 13:45:00 +0000

Just because it meant alot to me. This series. These people. And yes Jean...I'm so gonna miss playing with you. It has been a long time hasn't it? Our...understanding. And though we connect well with everyone on the team..the team that's been together since 2005..you're still my partner in that circle. 8 years...dwindling down to the last 2 months. Oh it's gonna be sad.

This series. These people. You mean alot to me. Our last game in front of the home crowd. The last time people actually badger us for our signatures or photos because they actually know who we are (you'll experience a more detached crowd at worlds). And thank you. I forgot you know. Although I whined at Kate to put me on for at least a minute a game so I reached 50..I totally forgot. And you made it special. All of you.

Again I say..through the drama and weird decisions and crazy things thrown at us..we're still a team. All of us. And it's the last year this team will be together. So let's enjoy it. Let's understand that when you strip it all down..it's still about winning. And that's why certain things were done a certain way. I'm not saying I agree with it. But it's done.

And for me...it's not a facade. I'm truly happy playing in this team. Some may say it's because I get to play. Some may say I don't understand. But I do. I understand how frustrating it is not to get a chance sometimes. How low you feel. And it may not be fair. But sometimes...team sport...focuses on what's best for the team. Oh well.

But...

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 15:47:00 +0000

It'd better be the Fourth one that counts.
Hear that?

FOURTH.
FINAL.
FINITO.

capisce?
comprende?
savvy?

That's the extent of my other-than-english linguistic capabilities. The last one may be pirate-of-the-caribbeanish.

Three in Twenty-Two is Bad Enough.

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 15:43:00 +0000

Harry Potter 7 (don't read it if you don't want to know)

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 02:08:00 +0000

After sleeping overnight outside borders and waiting for 8 hours to get my hands on it and finally finishing it all in one day...I'm finally done with harry potter.

closure?

maybe.

you could say that.

that woman managed to make the book both a memorium to all other books and an awesome adventure to end all the others.

She managed to answer most questions.

She managed to vindicate Snape.

She managed to make you hate Dumbledore and then love him all over again.

She managed to incorporate the best part of the bible into the end (oh popey's not gonna be pleased).

But best of all...she didn't kill the 3 main guys off. In fact..only Fred, Lupin and Tonks got the cut. Although she did terrify (not exaggerating) me at one point.. when harry finally understood that he was a hocrux as well, and that he'd have to die. There was this whole chapter..dedicated to his fears of death..of how he'd always managed to escape it but was now asked to willingly choose it. About saving the lives of all the others.

And when he was killed (aka crucifixion) and talked to Dumbledore (aka god) and was not indeed dead (aka resurrection), and subsequently managed to kill voldy using nothing but expelliarmus, there was a certain beauty to it all.

His 'signature' spell.

Not to mention neville being able to pull out griffindor's sword from the sorting hat to kill a snake. again...poetry. I remembered why the chamber of secrets was my (previous) favourite.

19 years later...married to ginny with kids named James, Albus Severus, and Lily...and sending them off at platform 93/4... symmetry.

It's been a good series. started reading it in j1 i think...when miffy was all crazy about it and forcing it down our throats. so i did. we had the 1st 2 books at home...my mum had bought it for my (then) 11yo sis.

And i read them.

And i couldn't stop.

By that time the 3rd book was out as well. I remember buying it from Sunny at Far East.

And then waiting.

Waiting for the goblet of fire.

Waiting every 2 years for the order of the phoenix, the half blood prince and finally..now..the deathly hallows. Intermittently cursing the woman for taking her own sweet time and for killing Sirius or Dumbledore.

But now it's all over..i'm happy.

happy with the ending.

and ready to read the final book again..and again..and maybe..again. Heh.

over time..you could see it..morphing from a childrens book to an adult one. the phrasing changed. the complexity expanded. the concept of 'good always triumphing over evil' and 'happily ever after' was tested and sometimes forsaken as a lost cause. emotions for this imaginary boy and his friends grew to ridiculous proportions. what can i say..i'm happy to be one of them. he who hasnt read all the books, or followed the journey through will never understand the pull. will never understand why we needed dumbledore's death to be fake. why we couldn't bear the thought of ron or hermione dying but were ready and bracing ourselves. (All this didn't really happen by the way..it was all theory..what else can you expect people to do in the 2 years between books?)

oh well.

it was a breath-taking ride.

worth every second.

worth all the obsession.

worth being in my life for the last 8 years.

and now..it's done.

"and that my friend is what they call..closure".

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 14:48:00 +0000

people irritate me sometimes. the ones that aren't supposed to you know? the ones who claim they don't know they matter. how many times do i have to say the same thing before it sinks in? or is it some sort of perverse psychological game that i've obviously failed to get a grasp on? well..i'm tired. so either say what you really want to or stop. even a simple conversation turns sour because of some stupid trivial matter. and it's not like you dont do it too. i'm tired of people. of bloody homo sapiens. we're such stupid god-forsaken sadistic animals. of all the wonders that could have emerged via evolution.. of all the infinite possibilities or capabilities.. What singles us out is the consciousness that we're conscious. great. i think i'll pass thanks.

The sis at it again..

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 15 Jul 2007 10:06:00 +0000

So, the sister's back for her mid-term break, and.. well..

I was telling her that I taught Ling a phrase the other day..not really a phrase but..

Anyway I go "Yeah, Ling's trying to learn English stuff, and I taught her what mutually exclusive was. I told her that 'Jean' and 'smart' were mutually exclusive". And she didn't laugh. She goes..."Huh? But that doesn't make sense". So I asked her why..and she goes "Doesn't mutually exclusive mean that you're going out with someone EXCLUSIVELY, and that the decision for it was come to MUTUALLY?"

...

Sigh.

Maybe I shouldn't be focusing on Ling and should turn some attention onto her.

16 days to go....till my life as i know it ends..

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 06:05:00 +0000

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 01 Jul 2007 02:36:00 +0000

What can i say? I always knew that I'd never be able to hold on. At first it was more a question of what the hell is this. And then it moved on to what can this become. And then it suddenly evolved into it's all there is.

But.

I always knew that I'd screw up somehow. Being me. It's not that surprising is it?

But I assure you I did try.

Because there was finally something worth trying for.

Rules?

There are no rules right?

Except there are.

But for once in my life they didn't feel stifling or binding or imposed. They were something I was willing to give a go...happy to follow. Because of what they meant. What they implied.

But.

I always knew that I'd screw up somehow. Being me. It's not that surprising at all.

And I assure you I did try.

Because there was finally something worth trying for.

But trying isn't good enough.

And neither am I.

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Fri, 29 Jun 2007 11:24:00 +0000

When you go
Don't ever think
I'll make you try to stay
And maybe when you get back
I'll be off to find another way

When after all this time that you still owe
You're still, the good-for-nothing I don't know
So take your gloves and get out
Better get out
While you can

When you go
Would you even turn to say
"I don't love you
Like I did
Yesterday"

Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading
So sick and tired of all the needless beating
But baby when they knock you
Down and out
It's where you oughta stay

And after all the blood that you still owe
Another dollar's just another blow
So fix your eyes and get up
Better get up
While you can

When you go
Would you even turn to say
"I don't love you
Like I did
Yesterday"

When you go
Would you have the guts to say
"I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday"

I don't love you
Like I loved you
Yesterday

ALBERT EINSTEIN'S RIDDLE <- i dont think he really made this up..but it's fun to figure out anyway

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Fri, 22 Jun 2007 06:20:00 +0000

There are no tricks, just pure logic, so good luck and don't give up.

1. In a street there are five houses, painted five different colours.
2. In each house lives a person of different nationality
3. These five homeowners each drink a different kind of beverage, smoke different brand of cigar and keep a different pet.
THE QUESTION: WHO OWNS THE FISH?

HINTS
1. The Brit lives in a red house.
2. The Swede keeps dogs as pets.
3. The Dane drinks tea.
4. The Green house is next to, and on the left of the White house.
5. The owner of the Green house drinks coffee.
6. The person who smokes Pall Mall rears birds.
7. The owner of the Yellow house smokes Dunhill.
8. The man living in the centre house drinks milk.
9. The Norwegian lives in the first house.
10. The man who smokes Blends lives next to the one who keeps cats.
11. The man who keeps horses lives next to the man who smokes Dunhill.
12. The man who smokes Blue Master drinks beer.
13. The German smokes Prince.
14. The Norwegian lives next to the blue house.
15. The man who smokes Blends has a neighbour who drinks water.

Ode to the team..

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Tue, 19 Jun 2007 16:06:00 +0000

I'm tired. Of alot of things. Of work.. Of training.. Of thinking.. You would think that I'd learn. To stop. Or. Something to that effect. But. Work. Is work. It's needed. It's something that everyone has to do. Right? (Cue the unemployed-and-loving-every-minute-of-it music [which sounds remarkably like the Gatsby-moving-rubber song] for the magpie). Which leaves...training. NSL's just over..now it's back to open training and national league (which isn't really a factor). Training 6 days a week...for a competition eons away...after (stupid) work..is bloody taxing. I find myself sleeping in the car at the knc carpark (while drooling and blowing saliva bubbles Marie tells me). And. Training. Although Vane makes things way easier by doing everything for me (I think she'd even tape my ankles and put my shoes on for me if she could - and I love her for it)...training's still. Training. Tiring. It's making me incoherent. But. Again with the 'but'. No matter what crap we go through...through the politics and the bitching and the drama, I find myself enjoying the time I spend with these teammates (yes yes Pearline..friends). Having dinner after training, going to watch movies, soccer games, whatever, it's all...it's weird how we don't seem to get tired of seeing each other. I mean. Aren't we supposed to? Chin's asked us if we don't see each other through the week except for weights (given the amount of noise we make during each and every session). I don't know. This team.. it's special. I was telling Pearline...we may not be the most talented batch that's been around. That's a given. We have the lee lees and the cats and the ailings to measure up to. But in terms of closeness and kinship and overall team performance, I have to say we kick ass. And after all...it is a team game isn't it? I was seriously amazed in Samoa. How we've grown. How we...how so many of us stepped up. How they can't call any of us 'young and inexperienced' anymore (er..the young part doesn't apply to Jean, Pearline, Lix and J9 - just clarifying). So. Although we're too competitive for our own good (cough -warm up games [and now even cool down games]- cough).. this team's a great thing. Through the encouragement and the yelling and the tears and the joy (and the dinners and the durian and the kinesio tape and the laughter at tight training shorts and the accusation of match fixing by Vicki), we've emerged as 'us'. Although all teams are fluid..with people coming and going...the core of the whole thing still remains. We may not get into the team. We may not get to play when we desperately want to. There'll always be issues. But seriously.. I've never had more fun. And no matter how tired I am or how pissed off I am when I get to kallang, you make things better. I can't help but laugh during training. I can't help but smile at the stupid things we do. I can't help enjoying training with you all, and dinner or whatever after and things thrown in the middle here and there. So guys... Thanks.

P.S. Look out for Lix's new and upcoming blog http://whosthebiggestwinner.blogspot.com/. Although she's still having issues with figuring out the mouse thing.

P.P.S. It might take a little while in being posted as Lix is coping with a (pretend) pregnancy that was detected by pink puke on Litmus paper.

P.P.P.S. Lix's (pretend) pregnancy gives her cravings for fettucini alfredo mixed in (that's right, in) coke.

P.P.P.P.S. This all rides on the fact that someone (whose name shall not be mentioned) knows how the whole how-to-get-pregnant thing works.

NSL 2007

noreply@blogger.com (prem) — Sun, 17 Jun 2007 11:04:00 +0000

Vipers...

2 beloved people in yellow.. (er..besides me)

Yellow shoes...gone into retirement. Red ones will make their debut for open..
(p.s. thanks again to darren..)