The Mind Is A Dangerous Place

Things that should boggle the mind but do not

Wednesday, December 15, 2004



start off with me.... in matrix... during bday bbq at st kilda... er.. gardens cum playground.



the guys (and gals)



the childhood bday boy/fren/manager/accountant/irritant



cousin from malaysia... one of my fav cousins too. If you want to go after her... u have to go thru me first. inspection. with id.



malaysia relatives. mostly cousins. And my mom and dad. Guess which.



even more cousins... wheeee....



the traditional thai massage... by a malaysian sister



niece and nephew :D



karaokeing



and my moment in glory

oh shit... forgot to resize them... this will suck a little. On the plus side... back to melb tmw... be prepared...oh so prepared.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

I shall begin my long tirade by introducing tact. Tact, a noun and basic courtesy behaviour which is surprisingly lacking among civilised, or once thought to be civilised, people. When one has tact, he knows when to not cause another embaressment. In short, he knows when to keep his mouth shut. Fathers don't have tact. Their goal in life is to brazenly show off how successful they have been to their sons, daring them to equal or surpass these achievements. It's basic fatherly code, inscribed in their genes, which activate when their sons have reached the tender age of 18. This virus, this evolving practice of ridicule festers until the son reaches working capabilities... then explodes into a mesh of mocking, loathing and simple despair. The son can never live up to the father. It is really that simple.

This is actually a serious subject I'm talking about. I mean, even among disappointment when comparing sons with sons, I assume there exists a certain respectablity of another person's feelings. Dad? Remember? Feelings? A son does have them you know. And yet, a father can casually ignore these emotions of the heart, pride and all; blatantly insulting the son in front of others, with him around. Yes, this is a true story, my story. I was the son. He was the Dad. And the Dad was telling uncles and aunties how he has given up on me in finding a job. Which is pretty incredulous cause... I haven't started searching yet. But that isn't the point. The point is, I was there, listening to insults of me, spoken to others!
And my frens will testify, I absorb insults directed AT me with a cheeky grin, a jokingly enraged face or a mild, good-natured fence of my own. But this time, I snapped and the sarcasm came. Yes, sarcasm, the lowest form of humour. I fell into routine once more and snapped a bit. Then I stayed silent and with the mask of smiles, small talk, and mouthfuls of prata, while the insults still came flying, I brooded. I was pissed.

And what can I do? Clearly the answer is to prove him wrong. However, I must admit, I'm not the most responsible, motivated, active kind of person. Which seems to hamper this job search. But by the 2359847693762-12 Gods out there, I will do my best. New Year resolution whom I hope to stick by. CHIONG.

But I'm still pissed off.

On a different topic altogether, the entire Pang extended family is breaking apart with politics, anger and not talking to people. I never thought it would happen. The Tang extended family has hospitalisation. Pretty worried there. Lost an aunt the year b4, am not relishing another black and white ceremony, no matter how noir it is.

I should put pictures but I'm down with something now. Flu I guess.... all of the sudden. sigh. And said goodbye to some frens which I'll miss.... for a while.... heh. Good ole msn will not let me down. I dunno if I'll miss Singapore. I will, then I won't. CHIONG. Remember good people. Chiong.

and yes, I'm back.