happy mas selamat day!

after one year (and counting), our dear toilet escapee is still at large.

wah, to be able to survive such a long time in Singapore (assuming that he is still here) or to have been able to flee (with a limp nonetheless) under the then high alert conditions is quite a feat eh.

well, actually in these troubled economic times, i dunno WTH he would want to come out; actually detention centre better: zero inflation, free food and lodging, plus free monthly haircuts. no retrenchments, no ERP, and no USD58bil loss.

heh just joking, but seriously, where the hell in the world is mat selamat? if this is a game of terrorist hide and seek, well ok mat selamat you won, we give up; you can come out now.

GeneraTion Gap

if you are 24 and are tempted to join an under-25 GTG, don't.

if you do, you will experience what is known as the generation gap, a dreaded malady which leave sufferers feel like dinosaurs, make them go weak at the knees due to overwhelming feelings of inadequacy, and leave them lost and tongue-tied.

numerical figures count for nothing, 25 is the new 18 anyway; sheesh, just what was i thinking when i decided to head down? to regain my youth? try to connect with the younger generation? oh wells i do admit it was a little desperate of me, but surely not as bad as the time the PAP MPs danced hip hop at Chingay? haha.

boy, do i feel like my parents now... =(

Le Jardin des supplices

"Devant lui, bouche à bouche, ventre à ventre, des femmes nues, se pénétrant l’une l’autre, dansaient des danses sacrées, tandis que, accroupis derrière un paravent, des musiciens, soufflaient dans de courtes flutes…

Là, d’autres femmes assises en rond ou couchées sur la natte du plancher, dans des poses obscènes, avec des faces de luxure plus tristes que des faces de supplice, attendaient. C’était, devant chaque porte où nous passions, des râles, des voix haletantes, des gestes de damnés, des corps tordus, des corps broyés, toute une douleur grimaçante qui, parfois, hurlait sous le fouet de voluptés atroces et d’onanismes barbares. Je vis, défendant l’entrée d’une salle, un groupe de bronze dont la seule arabesque des lignes me donna une secousse d’horreur… Une pieuvre, de ses tentacules, enlaçait le corps d’une vierge et, de ses ventouses ardentes et puissantes, pompait l’amour, tout l’amour, à la bouche, aux seins, au ventre.

Et je crus que j’étais dans un lieu de torture et non dans une maison de joie et d’amour."

- Octave Mirbeau

Don't you just love le français? =]

square feet

Cool creative spatial visualisation work by Charles Platt on personal space around the world; figures gotten from the CIA Factbook then dividing each country's land area by its population. Monaco, who apparently has the world's densest population with only 639 square feet per inhabitant, is just a tiny dot. Surprisingly it is Australia with the sparsest population density and not China nor Russia, both whom I previously thought would have gotten the dubious honour. But then again most of Australia is inhabitable desert anyway.

Well if the entire world were to fit in a HDB block, Singapore would probably just get the spare utility/bomb shelter room.

there's none

So how does one cope with it?

I'm referring a feeling. The same intense, sickening feeling of your heart sinking that one sometimes get. Like talons it grips you and refuses to let go. You try and relax, thinking it's just heartburn and that it will go away with relaxation but it doesn't. No, au contraire it gets worse. And then when you realise what it is you feel weak. Absolutely soft in the legs. Your arms feel clammy, and you begin to sweat. Your brows arch together into a frown without you even realising it. The colour of life drains from your face. Your breathing shortens and quickens. You try taking a deep breath but it chokes you instead.

You feel helpless because you're fully aware that you're powerless against it.

Different people get it from different triggers, i guess. Some upon realisation of a truth. Some after they've been told something they didn't want to hear. Some after a breakup. Mostly it has to do with disappointment, i postulate. That feeling we've all had as a child when our favourite toy was forcefully wrenched from our arms. That same one we never wanted to feel again.

So what does one do in a situation like this? You pace around and it doesn't work. You lie in bed and it intensifies. You try to arrest the situation but can't. And why not?

Because to deal with something you need to know what it is.

I don't. Do you?

(Benny, 2009)

recession

sweet today i found out that my wind tunnel can simulate the world global economy, i.e., i get pressure readings which fluctuate wildly but after a while it becomes a generally decreasing trend.

useless random numbers. and dateline's just less than a month away. argh. =(

longing of the sad bastards

In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl
And never ever think of counting sheep

When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
You'd be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the morning
That's the time you miss her most of all