story!!!

"i'm alright on my own, till i met you..."

the familiar cutey "uh-oh" sound surprised terry. it was almost 1.30am in the morning. everyone was usually asleep by this time. he clicked on the blinking bar. it was stella.

Stella : hey
Terry : not sleeping?
Stella : no, cant sleep. you?
Terry : i don usually slp at this early
Stella : u bz?
Terry : not really, wassup?
Stella : Call me?
Terry : k

so terry picked up the phone and dialled stella's number. when it was picked up, there was silence at first. "Stella?" silence again. then, there was a muffled sound in the background. "Stella? You there? Anything wrong?" the muffled sound continued for a while.

"yeah, i'm here. sorry."

"its ok, whats the matter?"

"its.....its...." stella's voice was breaking up, then the crying began to sound more apparant.

"wha...whats the matter? are you crying?" terry began to worry about stella.

"its..... we broke up...." uttered stella in between sobs.

"you broke up?" terry was shocked. "what...how did it happen?"

then stella proceeded to sob out her story. her boyfriend was apparently drifting away from the relationship. stella was always complaining about him being stoned all the time. the guy was starting to ignore her before the exams and after the exams, he had stopped calling and meeting her. he didnt even bothered with her birthday. stella couldnt stand it and couldnt see the relationship going anywhere, and had decided to call him to end it.

"....and he didnt even appear to be bothered about it. it was like.....nothing to him....."

terry was still shocked speechless by the relevation. it was a while before he recovered his tongue.

"i'm sorry about it, but take it easy, girl. the worst part is over."

"besides, he's probably blind not to see how lucky he was to have you."

stella was still crying over the phone. terry felt really awkward, yet he also felt really bad for stella. she really didnt deserve to be treated that way.

"i....i cant sleep now, i'm still thinking about him....can you come over to keep me company?"

terry looked at his clock. it was almost 2.30 in the morning.

"sure, i'll call you when i reach there."

passion

"it is said that football is a matter of life and death, though i can assure it is more important than that."

those were the words of the late Bill Shankly, great Liverpool manager of the past. to me, that just about sums up my feelings towards the game.

i am by no means a good player, just merely another average weekend footballer at the void decks. if allowed a little moment to indulge myself, i used to be good back in secondary school and before i got my back injury. oh, the days when i could run and twist and turn at such free will, without a single care in the world. now, when i twist, my back's screaming at me. at least my positional sense and first touch hasnt left me. so now with my back injury, i find myself more comfortable sitting back, breaking up attacks and setting up plays, instead of running around. i still miss the urge to run carefree with the ball though.

but what i lacked in skill, i always made it up with my heart. there was always this self belief in me, and i would never really stop running, never giving up until the final whistle's blown or the final deciding goal scored. back then when i was still hotheaded and able to run, i would expect the same of my teammates, never stop running, never giving up. it seemed clear about it, as i would often vent my frustration at some of them for seemingly giving up during the game. but as time went by, i started to mellow and cool down. i realized that i couldnt expect others to have the same passion, the same feelings for the game that i have.

back then when we just started, everyone we knew joined in on the game on sundays. then as time went by, fewer and fewer turned up, until there was left a constant of 3 of us, me, giap and zhongshun. the rest had seemingly lost interest and have other commitments. while there are others who feel that their studies are more important, i dont blame them. but its only once a week, and you're in the prime of your sporting life now, it isnt much to ask for is it; just a few hours on a sunday morning? then there are a few, who are good enough to play for their school halls, yet somehow, deemed that a few hours arent worth spending with old friends to play ball now.

maybe its the timing, we used to start and meet at 8. then we pushed it back to 9, now its set at 10, yet its at most 4-5 people that come. maybe its just that not important to some of them. afterall, they still see each other sometimes at school. but then again, do spare a thought for the rest though, to us(people in the army still, people who arent furthering their studies, people who have to work) this sunday soccer is not only a chance to stretch those legs and play some ball, but also a chance to meet up with some old friends.

war and peace

"war is the province of man"

uttered Eomer to Eowyn in the "Return of the King". the truth couldnt be expressed in any other better way. look at the breif history of man. ever since monkey evolved to man, people have been fighting for who knows how long. for food, survival, power, wealth, and whatever petty reason people come up with, war is as much linked to mankind as society and logical thinking. it is the one true field on which man can come to terms with his bestial nature, and where a sane and seemingly meek person can somehow morph into a maniac.

ok, enough with all the cheem(deep) thoughts.

what i have been doing lately amounts to nothing much. digging up and watching old shows on dvds, cycling through the night from AMK to Hougang, trying (not really hard) to cut down smoking, the odd flipping through ads for jobs, yup, nothing much these days.

talking about cycling, i usually stop by a couple of points in my usual cycling route. usually, these stop points are for a smoke break. there is this 1 stop however that i spend more than sufficient time to smoke and rest. its at the nearby park's pavilion. its a quiet place with not much people traffic, save for the usual joggers and maids bringing kids to play during evenings, but overall, its a pretty secluded little haven; which is surprising really, 'cos its next to a main road, a school and a bus stop.(although there are the odd horny young lovebirds making out at night in a dark corner of the park) but the seclusion suits me fine, its like a little piece of heaven for me. the place is so quiet, so serene, one cant help but feel at peace there. when i'm there, its like the whole weight of some unknown burden lifted from me, and my mind is flooded with serene thoughts, none of the bile and anger surfacing.

its getting hard nowadays to find a place that can make me so relaxed, its almost godsend, only that i dont really believe in any of those stuff.

estranged

i dont know what came over me last night or whatever time it was, i must have been bonkers or something like that. its like a rush of thoughts that just came flooding inside my brain, like a tsunami of sorts that comes in and wipes your whole logical brain cells away and replaces them with old cells and bitter cells. or maybe it had something to do with the bloody idiot who's born before me and thinks he's the king of the house so that he can do wahtever he likes and say whatever he wants, so that he's subjected to different rules from others in this same house.

i'm talking about that elder "BROTHER" of mine. in fact, i'm loathe to even call him that. to put it nicely, he and i are not on level terms. to put it truthfully, i cant fucking stand him and i fucking hate him.

it seems to me that i'm living and will forever be in that fucker's shadow within this household. it seems nothing i do will ever overcome his so-called achievements. i remember when it was my PSLE results that got released, i was so damn happy that i got a 236, much much higher than the idiot's result, but my parents didnt show anything. then, when i got a 10 in the O levels, i rushed home to show my parents, and what i got was put down; "by luck" was all i got. after those incidents, i kinda lost all motivation.

whenever people asked me why i didnt choose to go to some prestigious jc but rather some dead end course in poly, i always tell them, "because i dont like wearing uniforms". isnt that funny? i mean, a guy who got 10 but didnt go to JC because he cant stand wearing uniforms? but that isnt really the truth, i just said that 'cos it sounded funny. the truth was that i couldnt see what going to JC and getting good grades would do for me. in fact, i couldnt see what getting good grades in poly would do for me either. to put it mildly, i chose to go poly partly to see my parents' reaction. when they showed that they didnt care what i chose, i just let loosed. i flunked my modules, just scrapping by the acceptable mark.

even in the army, i was being compared to the fucker. at first, first 2weeks into BMT, i was so enthusiastic about being an officer. after all, there were stories about officers being passed down from my family. but then, i went through a change of heart. if i went into OCS, i'd still get compared to the fucker. i tried all methods to show i didnt want to become an officer; last PC interview, sect-comd talks, PS talks, even those fucking officer assessors during the whatever-it-was test. sadly, my earlier performances during BMT had already confirmed my doom. even in OCS, i was stuck in the fucker's shadow. turned out i'm in his former wing, and turned out my APC was his former room-mate and buddy, not to mention that my PC was his PC too. whatever i do was being compared to him. it was the fucking worst 3-4months of my life.

but i'm digressing again.

so now, the fucker just came back from Aussie with his big assed University Degree. Me? i've just another mediocre poly diploma. and if it goes another year or 2, my little sis will graduate from U. so that makes me the only non-Uni child from my parents. damn, i'm digressing again.

back to topic, the fucker comes back, and suddenly, the whole house becomes his. he passes snide remarks about tv shows, about my smoking, and goes on to fill the house with his stupid anime models and comics. he goes out and comes home late. me? i go out, my parents asks me where i'm headed, when i come home late, i get nagged down to some small little speck. doesnt take an Einstein to figure out why all this bile and hatred towards someone of the same flesh and blood.

at the rate i'm going, i'd figure i'm turning into a bitter old man, you'd know, the kind that lives alone in old age, and shouts and rails at the kids when they're playing for making too much noise.

the other side

the grass is greener on the other side...

so goes the saying. in my opinion, that phrase doesnt refer to current or future references, but rather the past. think about it, whenever you think back on the past, you think of how much fun there was, how enjoyable it was, and none of the previous fuck-ups would ever come to your thoughts. you think of the good old times you've enjoyed in the past, reminiscing about the fun you've had, of all the friends you've made, lamenting all the lost opportunities("if only..."), but you wouldnt think of all the troubles that you've encountered, the bad experiences and sad encounters. so in a sense, its still the same, whether it refers to the past, present or future; you'd look at the other side, and see only the good things, turning a blind eye to the bad things.

being without a computer for the past 2 weeks was a refreshing change. not being stuck in front of a monitor and computer equates to having a lot more time doing nothing. at first, it felt strange and alien. after all, apart from being in the first 1 and a half years in the army, my past 5years were spent in front of a computer most of the time. if anyone knows me, they'd know that whenever i'm bored, my mind usually wanders about anything and everything, and usually, i'd think of the past. thinking back on all my past mistakes, my past experiences, its like a part of my mind going through everything at warp speed, but the rest of the brain is still stuck in the medieval age and trying to catch up. i'd think of so many things and then, a few seconds later, i'm struggling to recall what i was thinking about.

there were a lot of things going through my brain, but i could only grab a few and remember it for a short time only. when i was young, i was the complete opposite of what i am today. i was optimistic and happy all of the time. the only thing that frightened me back then was thinking of death. now, i'm a pessimistic and lousy company to be with; you'd be lucky if you could get 5 non-pessimistic sentences out of me in a conversation.

another big difference was photographs. as a kid, i used to look forward whenever my dad or mom would take out the camera. i would act out all those super hero poses and imagine myself to be a famous and powerful figure, usually superman. even when i had to share the picture taking with my siblings, i would try to be the centre of attention. now, you wouldnt find me in any photographs. the most recent photo i remember having my face was those my parents took of me on commissioning parade. even those, i took grudgingly. then there were the pictures taken at the commissioning ball, which i'm thankful that sharlene didnt manage to extract before returning the camera to her faraway friend. i dont know why, but now, i dont like being in pictures. cant explain it, just like the reason i'm downcast and pessimistic most of the time.

my brain just died on me again, so that means i'm empty of thoughts or the thoughts are just going too fast for me to catch.