What A Thrill-

2011-03-23T20:43:00.001+08:00

A mango is golden sunshine captured in a fruit.

2010-06-20T11:01:00.002+08:00

I've had a really grumpy last two weeks because the germs keep getting to me. But in between the whining and restricted breathing I managed to watch night court, help my brother choose new furniture and a pair of glasses, get disappointed by the gimmicky Pizza Hut football field pizza with Jia Ching, drink giant drinks at Chomp Chomp with Dwayne, watch Persepolis, see Elly and Sam Jo on their birthdays and spend a night with Siew and Rachel on the cool grass of Fort Canning Hill while the sun set and JC kids let off balloons. Tomorrow, intensive summer school begins for me, and in a little more than two weeks, I'll be in the outskirts of Cambodia and Thailand with no known friends. I'm not sure if I'm a little grateful for organisation of time taken away from me, I was getting tired of bending time to the inflexible schedules of people I love.

2010-06-03T12:15:00.002+08:00

I filled my days to the brim. Since the week began, I've been to school, shopping, then to that great yakitori place at vivo with Lynette the other intern and Philip, dessert and grocery shopping with Dwayne, had korean mackerel while watching the sunset with Audrey and Zhifeng at the new eco-mall, watched SATC2 and had a lot of kaya toast with Jerrine, tea with Eric in Royal Copenhagen, played squash with Siew Russell and Yury, went to Lavender hawker centre for the first time with them, then to the airport with Jerrine's family. This morning I even climbed up bright and early to meet the punctual classmates for breakfast at Killiney. Every night I collapse into bed.

2010-06-01T10:07:00.002+08:00

I had a packed long weekend. We had a great day exploring Chinatown. First I got lost driving round and round the CBD area one hand clutching the steering wheel and the other trying to hold open the street directory, when I finally found Smith Street, I was entertained by the volume of tourists and traditional old Chinese Singaporeans, and impressed by the looming giant gold tumblers of herbal tea. Huanna, Zhifeng, Hanyi and I had pretty average dim sum at a very crowded shop, then Sam Jo and Ramu joined us to find a karaoke place. They were all booked, so we marched about in the extreme heat, sweating and laughing. It was my first time at the Chinatown complex hawker centre, then we finally ended the afternoon trooping to McDonald's like teenagers where I had a hot fudge sundae. The sun started to ease up, so Huanna Sam Jo and I drove to Orchard for shoes, dresses and yakitori. We found a nook in Mandarin Gallery where we watched kids getting drunk on barcardi breezers and made plans to attend a City Harvest sermon some day. On Saturday, I had dinner at Siew's house where I made friends with the dog Spark and watched her bake salmon and fry cereal prawns. I tried salted-egg pumpkin, and soon I was so full I had to lie down and close my eyes while her cousins watched world national anthems on youtube. Sunday I woke up bright and early for Jerrine's sister's solemnisation at the arts museum where I sat by myself, missed our friends and embarrassingly teared. I snatched a nap in the afternoon, then made my way to the Fullerton (again getting lost on the roads). The wedding started with gem biscuits, M&Ms, hawthorn sweets, coloured wafers and a dramatic wedding album. Dinner was awesome, and we talked about how Dwayne would have loved all the food. It started with cold salted duck breast, then shark's fin with truffle oil, steamed fish, spinach, chicken with keropok and fried rice with foie gras. Dessert was mango! There was also a bowl of drunken prawns which I allowed myself a treasured morsel of, and was fine until I stupidly rubbed my eyes with my prawn-juice fingers and they threatened to pop out of my head.

2010-05-28T11:42:00.001+08:00

I am going to dim sum in Chinatown under the blazing hot Singapore sun. Sweating is quite pleasant when you're not dressed in a black suit.

2010-05-24T21:45:00.007+08:00

This morning, I walked into the picture frame that is the UOB Plaza lobby singing - finally, after a long week of tonsilitis-caused croaking. I chirped "good morning" to everyone, because I almost hardly ever see mornings that it makes me feel special to be able to. Today, I fell asleep in court, watched Judith Prakash J laugh at a Senior Counsel for using "really leading" questions in re-examination, was told by Joseph the lawyer I'm attached to that you run a case as long as "there's room for argument", and chanced upon CJ Chan at the buffet line, who told me basically, if I wanted to have a say in Singapore's future, to "run for elections" otherwise other people get to decide if you are too "young" or too "idealistic". I didn't do anything, absorbed cross-examination techniques minimally through my thin notepad of cheap grey paper and 50cents ballpoint, and wondered with mild apprehension about my incoming productive years. I enjoy the bronze fat bird and deconstructed human body statues that start and end my days.

2010-05-23T20:56:00.002+08:00

The Public Death Sentence

Why don't we hang people on the streets anymore? If deterrence is the reason for the death sentence, its effect would be maximized by a public hanging like the kind done just about a hundred years ago. Private hangings seem insidious, against the interests of transparency. When the state hangs someone in private, citing the preservation of the dignity of the criminal is pointless. It seems to me that we do it to shield, from our spotlessly shiny, marbled bank buildings, theatres and relentless shopping malls, the blood and dead flesh; to protect the bespectacled men with expensive cars, women with overpriced handbags, children entertained only by junk food and tv, wealthy but queasy tourists, from the physical terror, mental stress and moral disgust that I imagine would certainly result from driving the true effect and purpose of the collective killing an individual home.

I will slowly start writing here regularly again, perhaps I will be ready for it to take me back to the person I was when I wrote with faithful commitment. As I near the end of my Singapore education in law, these political-legal issues are no longer subjects of classroom discussions, hushed jokes and daring essays. The further I am empowered with legal skills, the more these issues become my responsibility to turn into reality - the transmission of knowledge, the assumption of activity, the grind of detailed research and typing work in Word documents.

2010-05-06T12:04:00.002+08:00

$3.26 to do my exam today, in carpark fees. I did an extremely technical paper this morning, and this evening coincidentally, I plan to attend a talk about international Marevas. The last summer is here. In the last two nights I've slept 6 hours because of an inexplicable internal frenzy. I chased a jungle-sized mosquito about for half a night, half because of dirty revenge, half to abate anxiety. I never caught it. I can't quite catch life either.

2010-04-19T17:40:00.001+08:00

This wild tropical thunderstorm smells so safe.

2010-03-28T00:12:00.002+08:00

Mountains and valleys, oh, the mountains and valleys of life.

2010-03-25T17:42:00.001+08:00

It is my true regret that I shall not live to see the revolution.

2010-03-25T10:55:00.002+08:00

I must admit I haven't written in so long because I have been living the oblivious life I despise. Reaching towards my thoughts, I only find stupid, unhappy things like this, "Where am I?"

2010-03-24T19:02:00.001+08:00

The older we grow, the harder it becomes to take everyone else seriously.

2010-02-25T21:08:00.003+08:00

It would be such a public service, to go out and teach everybody that each of us are absolutely and incontrovertibly alone. Because it would do us all good to learn that early.

2010-02-16T18:06:00.003+08:00

My formerly chatty grandfather, who has lain at Changi General Hospital since a stroke the beginning of the year, speechless and immobile, comes constantly into my dreams. I wonder sometimes whether all the rest of my family have to dream of him too but I never ask because Asian families like mine best avoid discomfort this way . Sometimes I dream that he has learned to talk again, that he has been talking to me, and I go about for half a day with a light heart, having brunch, reading and making plans with friends, taking in the hot breeze with fortitude, subconsciously maintaining its truth, until something banal reminds me of my dream. Then reality clashes with my dream-engendered beliefs, and questions the unquestioned memories, so that I must recognise that nothing has changed. He is still being fed through a tube, croaks as a substitute for laughter and festers in boredom. I haven't learned how to separate the guilt from the rest of my life, so I go about every day constantly carrying a bundle of tight feelings. Sometimes he is not unhappy. Today my father told him jokes to try to make him laugh, and he croaked for so long that he started to choke.

2010-02-16T17:28:00.001+08:00

2010-02-13T19:01:00.002+08:00

Spring is here. You won't believe how attractively blue and clear the skies have been all day. The sun glittered on the frames of my glasses today, and put a skip into my step. I have been tired, resulting in carelessness. Like today, I left my hazard lights on for a good 3 hours while having Chinese New Year's Eve brunch with Ashlyn and Ching. It might have severely depleted my new car battery - problems with my car always indicate a growing distractedness within me. But I think I will find my way. Last night, I was angry and lonely. I saw myself become a dissatisfied individual, mistreated by luck, rude and ugly. Driving home at dusk, which usually settles my heart into the land, sky, trees and buildings, did nothing to change that. I sped past a low building with stained glass on my right, and swerved right at the next turn, so that I might go into it and find the greatest silence I've ever known. It was the stained glass of the chapel of the church where I used to go to kindergarten. I am one of those people who know their childhood intimately. It didn't even occur to me that I hadn't been here in 17 years, I expected to see exactly the same things. The church was fully renovated, it had 3 floors instead of the cute 1 with a slanted roof I sang songs and practised penmanship in, and a huge clean carpark. I parked my car, then tapped my heels against the asphalt towards the entrance of the chapel. I approached a small statue of Mother Mary - I think it was the one we used to cross in front of whenever we went on walks around the church grounds. I hadn't expected to see her, I'd already forgotten all about her. I stood astonished in front of the statue surrounded by low potted plants and I think a simple fountain, and let my eyes slip across her porcelain curves - probably the only statue I've ever had reverence for. I knew I wasn't there to find solace in God, I'll never believe it, but I was just there to find identity. I was looking for a place that belonged surely and clearly to the 3-5 year old Christine, so that my brain could rest in it, and be pleased in completeness. Even so, as I manouevred my way around the dark scary corridors lit only be garish green exit lights, the kind where I would usually expect to see white faces jump out at me from the shadows, I smiled to myself that a place like the church has no ghosts. And I was not afraid. (The funny thing though, is after I left the chapel and walked through those same corridors, I started feeling frightened of ghosts again). I went into the huge white newly renovated chapel, and found nothing, nothing of the silence I was looking for. It was Friday night mass. The priest was blaring in Singlish over the new speakers, and annoying sounds echoed back. I laughed to myself, but sat down. I listened to him yell about Jesus' unfair, illegal trials (very apt for my recent study in Evidence Law), then after one hour went home. I didn't find the great silence that will now only exist in my memories of that little run-down dark chapel with the stained glass that filled the whole room with light, but I did feel re-energised by the energy of the room of crouching, bending, clean-faced Catholics. Nothing spiritually changed in me of course, this is not that kind of story. I went out to bachormee supper that night, wondering my usual wonders about atheist Marxism, the balance of power between the economic classes, listening to sexdrugsrock&roll music, and delighted in the materialism of my new Baby-G watch.

2010-02-11T17:48:00.002+08:00

I am so happy sitting in my Human Rights class right now. It is by far the most engaging class I've ever done in this school. The tutor is intelligent and clear, the classmates all make jokes, there are always melodious accents (British, Chinese, German, Irish, Indian, American) accompanying the opinions in class, there is a high proportion of beautiful specimens of the human species, one classmate has shown me magic tricks, we discuss substantive world diplomatic issues, there is always laughter and aggresive viewpoints, there are all kinds of academic styles (pragmatic, idealistic, censorious, insidious, respectful, sarcastic, adamant), and in 5 seminars, unlike all my other classes, I think I actually know everyone's name.

2010-01-14T11:22:00.000+08:00

2010-01-11T14:08:00.002+08:00

So I finally checked for homework online. I found a veritably overflowing electronic folder. I am certain I will drown in the choice of jurisdiction class with absolute zero understanding of conflicts of laws or choice of laws. The silver lining though, was that in between all those dreadful readings I also found a link to muffinfilms.com and I watched the U.F.M. and M cups. It cheered me up.

2009-12-31T01:08:00.004+08:00

It will be New Year's Eve tomorrow. I have sorrowfully neglected this blog for longer than it has ever been. Considering that I have always been proud of it as the greatest commitment I have attended to, the huge gap between that post in November and now exists to mock my failure. (I hope it portends no new fidelity issues in 2010.) I want to write here before the calendar signals freshness, that this year I have tested the limits of those human ingredients I really possess little of. Patience, faith, and forgiveness. I am not saying I have learned anything, or increased my powers in these aspects. Oh no, I merely state that situations of 2009 have called upon me to scramble for them, most of the time futilely. On the eve of the new year, I still feel unsure what are these, much less how to use them. On the other hand, what I have now, is the beginning of a rearrangement of priorities back in the manner I'd always held right. Objects are still unsettled and strongly subject to inertia, but change is possible. Even if nothing changes within me, things will change around me. In the last week I learned some science (including a particularly appropriate concept - relativity and the flexibility of time as part of space. Physics willing, the passing of 09 into 10 may be nothing), I glimpsed much needed intellectual passion again, I fell sick (my body is probably purging the last germs of 2009), I earned some motivation, I took a new card in love, and spent time alone (necessary to avoid turning into a crazy, unsustainable extrovert). Come Friday, I'll feel properly in the 21st century. Space suit fashion, I'm ready! Friends, I have a good feeling about 2010.

2009-11-19T22:58:00.003+08:00

It's been a long and short semester - long because of how often I have felt lonely, and short because my mind has conveniently deleted those long hours. It's not been a good semester, but a growing one. I have lived with a great amount of uncertainty before, and discovered that the worst kind of uncertainty is the one that exists within myself. How trapped do you feel when you don't know what you want? The uncertainty of the world can always be rationalised into patterns, but the uncertainty of mind cannot be tamed or calmed. The effect is to spill over into daily actions, brewing petty spite, unreasonable demands and some kinds of cruelty. Worst of all, uncertainty blinds me from the people who stolidly and very certainly want to care and love me. I am not so silly to tell you that my uncertainty is over, because that is the nature of uncertainty, its amorphous, ethereal, slipping, sliding, cold, and constantly unexpected. I may tell you though, that I am growing more certain, and with that certainty, mildly but surely, more happy. I suppose some degree of uncertainty must always exist, and I am clever enough to accept that, so that life should continue to surprise, excite and encourage my chase. I shan't like to get comfortable, that sort of comfort usually entails boredom. And I am pleased to say I think I will only get better at living with uncertainty.

2009-11-12T21:25:00.002+08:00

Rachel and I went to watch Humpday in the rain today - my first r21 film. Among the themes were growing up, settling down, pride, and reconciling personalities. This week I have been learning that adults that were supposed to be good do bad things. I thought that learning that adults are not perfect was growing up, but now I'm certain there's more to it - knowing that these people who have gone before you have made those mistakes, and making yourself strong enough so that you won't make those mistakes. These wrongs are now mine to avoid.

2009-10-25T01:28:00.008+08:00

While I have been in bed the last three days nursing myself against some superbug, outside Singapore seems to be changing in curious ways. Are these the first signs that we are becoming a real, ragged city?

1. A homeless man asked Abel for money on the street outside my house.
2. A man dashing across the road outside Orchard Towers got knocked down by a motorcyclist, climbed back up and continued running across the road.
3. A significant bunch of Singaporeans got together and pulled off a very successful flash mob at lunchtime Raffles Place. (video available on Youtube)

I am not sure if I should begin to fear for my elderly grandparents' safety or get excited about finally starting to live with the freedom of variety, uncertainty and grit.

2009-10-21T22:26:00.007+08:00

You know how Bumblebee talks to Sam through the radio? When time had just entered my 21st birthday this year, about 12.18am, I was driving home with Rachel after supper with Luke at Old Airport Road, and just as we passed the Sims Ave junction, a pop song came on the radio that kept singing my name in the chorus. I got very excited then, thinking that just as I turned 21, the universe was calling out to me. I believed that the song spoke to me, even though as I lay in bed that night I couldn't for the life of me remember any of the lyrics. Tonight, it came on again as I took the car down the CTE. I believe the universe has been saying to me "Don't waste your whole life trying to get back what was taken away."

Kristy Are You Ok?
Offspring

Can you stay strong?
Can you go on?
Kristy are you doing okay?
A rose that won't bloom
Winter's kept you
Don't waste your whole life trying
To get back what was taken away

Oh, clouds of time
Seem to rain on
Innocence left behind
And it never goes away

2009-10-19T00:15:00.003+08:00

Sugar Addiction:

In 1998, Kathleen DesMaisons outlined the concept of sugar addiction as a measurable physiological state caused by activation of mu opioud receptors in the brain. Her work extracted data from studies done by Blass showing that sugar acted as an analgesic drug whose effects could be blocked by a morphine blocker. Acting on years of anecdotal evidence from her work in the field of addiction, DesMaisons noted that dependence on sugar followed the same track outlined in the DSM IV for other drugs of abuse.

Hoebel and his team also have found that a chemical known as dopamine is released in a region of the brain known as the nucleus accumbens when hungry rats drink a sugar solution. This chemical signal is thought to trigger motivation and, eventually with repetition, addiction.

In experiments, the researchers have been able to induce signs of withdrawal in the lab animals by taking away their sugar supply. The rats' brain levels of dopamine dropped and, as a result, they exhibited anxiety as a sign of withdrawal.

2009-10-12T20:41:00.002+08:00

How is it that this show has all the answers to my life?

2009-10-10T18:54:00.003+08:00

Two weeks.This must be the longest I have ever kept away. The death of my blog corresponds to the death that I feel. I have been working so hard at those parts of my life that don't have place on this blog that I feel very, very ordinary. And oh, it seems I have now caught a cold.

2009-09-27T11:36:00.005+08:00

This morning's thoughts on Foreign Talent and Democracy in Singapore:

Foreign Talent

I thought this topic was talked dead. But yesterday night after a lovely dinner at Racecourse Road, I was directed to something particularly well-written by a girl my age about recent immigrants in Singapore and I couldn't help feeling that we are ignoring an important point.

The political leaders in this country often cite 'natural resource constraints, hostile neighbours and multi-racialism' as the underlying rationale for some necessary policies. I don't think this reasoning works anymore. We panic whenever dangers of 'natural resource constraints, hostile neighbours and multi-racialism' are emblazoned across the front page of the Straits Times. This insecurity leads us to become fearful, jealous and blindly discriminatory. We form unapologetic prejudices according to race, income, education certificates, nationality.

The issue is framed as such - tension between the necessity of foregn labour/talent, and local job scarcity. The answer has always been 'the necessity of the economy is more important than the social necessity of local household income'. Singapore has consistently picked economy over society for the last 44 years, but individuals are beginning to frustrate. I see disparate pockets of opposition building up across all classes in our country. This equation no longer supports policy, and I attempt an overlooked, lasting and potentially socially harmonious solution - We are a multi-racial society. What? You say you've heard this before.

No, what you have heard before is that as an explosive multi-racial society we need to feed our economy in order to preserve peace, therefore economic concerns always trump. But when I say 'We are are a multi-racial society' I mean look where your parents came from, where your grandparents came from. We are a multi-racial society precisely because we are an immigrant society. Do we really dare say that we lay more claim to the resources and opportunities in this land simply because our lineage has been physically located here for a couple of years more than 'new immigrants'? Dare we stake our citizenship superiority claim upon our political and social contribution to our neighbourhood and country? To discriminate against foreign-passport-holders (I feel uneasy even using the word foreigners) is to discriminate against yourself and your grandparents. To hate anyone speaking a Bengali, Thai, Italian, Mandarin, Spanish is to hate your grandparents who cannot speak fluent English.

Sure, there are many people who are using Singapore to lily-pad to selfish accomplishments. Those should be hated for using and abusing our country, then giving nothing back. But there are surely more Singapore-passport-holders who mumble the pledge and take education subsidies for granted, never contribute to country, and spend all their free hours in our clean parks and city facilities planning escape to another country. Contribution evaluation is not going to help.

What we need to recognise is that people reciprocate. The worse we treat the guests in this country, the less they are going to act like family. Can we blame them? We are going to end up in a web of jealousy, arrogance, and self-sabotage. This hypocrisy must stop.

Uniquely Singapore - it has taken me years to understand what this feeble sounding catchphrase meant to communicate. Yet this is what I understand of it today. It is far easier for Singapore to become a welcoming city of the world than any other city of the same economic development. We are arguably the most multi-racial first-class developed city in the world. Do you realise how amazing that is? Other cities, London, Hong Kong, NYC, Tokyo, Zurich all started with far more homogenous populations, and some are still more homogenous in culture, philosophy and policy than Singapore. While other cities struggle to integrate wildly different new people into their homogenous societies, heavy with history, it is easy for us to be accepting and accommodating. Don't waste that.

Democracy

I also want to say something about social Enlightenment and economic growth. This country brings its children up to believe in the triumph of the free-market and its eventual ability to transform civil society. And for a while I have been similarly lulled into sitting back and waiting for our unhurried, smooth, graceful transition to individual freedoms and equality. But look at how much wealth the Middle East nations have, and how much inequality their constitution shelters. Singaporeans cannot sit back and allow the government to plan for 20 years of excruciatingly slow democratic reform, we have to want it for ourselves. Money does not make morals, and economy does not create society. We cannot wait for them to tell us we are ready, when they think that we are ready, because this is growing up. You are not grown up until you can stand up and say for yourself that you are grown up. We can have no freedom and no identity until we claim them for ourselves.

2009-09-24T21:16:00.003+08:00

The F1 will be here again this weekend. I can't believe it's already been a year. Recently, I have not felt sure enough about my thoughts that I cannot write. But my blog has always been a commitment and I would like you all to have at least some news about me. The Friday earlier, Rachel Russell and I went to the Hari Raya fair at Geylang Serai, watched big tanks of paper money burning, screeched up and down and around a multi-storey carpark, and walked through carpets and curtains stalls for ages before Rachel and I tried our first Ramly burger. Today, Navjote brought me the most awesome silk scarf/pashmina/stole from India. It's silver and gold and lilac and beige and very Indian. I was very pleased. And yesterday Adeline Joy and I met for lunch at Ion, in a little stall in the basement for ramen. It seems that since I learned to like ramen in Marutama early 2008, it has become incredibly popular in Singapore. Then while walking around we saw the scariest whole red pig lying on a stand staring at us and Joy shouted 'Lord of the flies, lord of the flies!' I watched Ghostbusters and ate chocolates that night and laughed a lot. I have been trying to keep myself at home to work on the mountain of impending assignments and exams, mostly.

2009-09-20T19:37:00.005+08:00

Recently, a new friend I made said to me 'I am lucky, and very privileged, and I don't want to see the world, I just want to stay in my comfortable bubble and go on luxury holidays'. While many of my friends and I admire the rugged exploration of foreign perspectives and delights, I laughed quite happily at this statement and fully respected it.

When I was younger, sometimes my mother or my aunt when I stayed over at my cousin's house would gather us together in our pajamas, fed brushed and washed, to pray to God. It was never the kind of selfish bargaining prayer that people make when they are alone, it always began with 'Thank you God...' followed by a list of 'the food we eat, the friends we have, the parents who love us, the fun we had today, the life we have...' And it always ended with 'Dear God please bless our grandparents and parents and friends with good health, please help us see truth, please help us to study hard, please heal our friends who are sick, please help us be good...' I don't do that anymore, but every few months you have witnessed that I come here to write the things that make me thankful for the life I have. I do this out of appreciation, sometimes desperation, but always because I despise the failure of consciousness, and in this case, the failure to be conscious of the extreme luck I have.

Here is the new list of my Favourite Things
1. The Pidgeot and driving
2. Rollercoasters
3. My funny father
4. Red
5. Ice Cream
6. Law and mooting
7. Late night phone calls
8. Dancing
9. Books
10. Writing
11. Rain
12. Shouting
13. Sex
14. Politics
15. Art
16. Cologne
17. Cake
18. Learning
19. Meeting new people
20. Music
21. F.R.I.E.N.D.S and friends
22. Beaches

2009-09-13T12:30:00.000+08:00

Two things I thought about Singapore this morning
1. I really don't like how we have no respect for anything but money.
2. I really like these electronic real time signs around town that report parking availability.

2009-09-10T18:09:00.004+08:00

Dear Rachel and Jerrine (particular because they were there) and All My Dear Friends,

We have been adrift for a while now, battling our own confusions. But today a picture of this place on this night appeared on my desktop and looking at it made me remember how full of life and love I felt that night. I remembered it was possible to feel so content, and so in awe of the world, so quietly delighted with a corner of a street in Florence and 90s ballads and a 12-euro gelato cone, so filled with timeless peace, so tingly with the possibility of a life well-lived. It was one of those Que Sera Sera nights when we felt the edge of the future and tried to see into time, but didn't look too hard, because we knew, certainly, that it didn't really matter what the future was. If life could be this great in this simple evening after dinner, it would find a way to return to this greatness again.

2009-09-03T23:20:00.003+08:00

I like to put up pictures that show you the places and things that have thrilled me.

Royal Copenhagen tea

Yogi's Lexus

Marathon day

(which I did not run of course)

Night of 28 August with Sinni and Ying Sze

KPO at dusk

Nonnie Node

(Lornie Road flyover)

Cooking Mama and milkshakes at SMU

The walk into Halia on a weekend morning.

2009-09-02T19:13:00.000+08:00

As I was walking to my car in the surprisingly cool breeze, under the cute blue sky patterned by green leaves, I realised, my school is so much of a garden, that it actually smells like flowers. Where else in the world is there such an awesome place, when at dusk you can take the lift up to the fifth floor and watch Bukit Timah hill in the distance surrounded by pink clouds and the straight lights of distant traffic, through a window specially designed to look like a picture frame?

2009-08-27T15:45:00.004+08:00

My birthday started early this year. It's my 21st, and I really never thought this day would come. Six, yay! Twelve, sure. Sixteen, wow. Eighteen, kind of nice. But Twenty-One? Never. To distract me from my impending independence and corresponding responsibilities, Jerrine brought me something shiny:

and Siew and Rachel brought me something red. My sweet friends came over in the middle of the night, having brought me furniture for my adult birthday, and stayed through the thunderstorm. This morning I woke up in delight to this:

I found the perfect spot by the window. They'd sewn the entire thing by themselves and bothered Popular staff for stuffing, and cut computer packing material until they blistered.

Details in the Fabric.

This is where I'll be spending many slow afternoons and some cold nights watching the street, where I will put a puppy if there is one in my room, where friends will fight to sit, where I will eat cake and read books and where I will plan the rest of my hopeful life.

2009-08-21T20:47:00.002+08:00

Since nothing exists before it is perceived, it always takes a personal experience for us to see into the lives of others. My birthday is in a week. Throughout the year I have watched all my friends from school slowly turn 21 one after another. I wished them great happiness and meaningful lives not really comprehending that it was not just another birthday, and that every year is not just another birthday. As mine tumbles towards us like a rock down a hill, snapping, rolling, accelerating, I am stunned by how much growing up is necessary for me to do, frustratedly and inevitably. I have no doubt that as my friends turned 21, they learned from life, found great strength within, that they were touched by compassion, were approached by cruelty, and surprised by love. At the cusp of 16, I felt helpless to predict our futures. Today I feel equally uncertain what countries we will live in, what intellectual pursuits will absorb us, which people we will choose to hold tight, what happiness or unhappiness we will allow to cloud our days, or whether some of us might even die before our friends can form plans with us. I don't know if we will grow wicked or vulnerable, jaded or dreamy. I don't know how many chances to perform noble acts we will get, and how many petty tantrums we will throw. I cannot say if success will build us big houses, or unluckiness will shame us. I don't know who we will eventually decide to be. I am scared of what lies after 21, but if my friends are any indication, I am very relieved and comforted to see that good things are going to come my way too.

2009-08-19T23:53:00.000+08:00

After Sam's awesome backyard barbecue yesterday, I have decided that I could live on roasted marshmallows for the rest of my life.

2009-08-17T23:15:00.001+08:00

I didn't sleep much, but I popped up in bed at seven when Shumin called. I started the day in the most unusual way, at the airport with friendly faces. I received many delightful morning hugs, and wished my friend Sam Jo fair and well. Then I sped home to check what homework I had, then to breakfast with Dwayne Jerrine Sam Shirin at Provence. An afternoon at the computer lab with Ben followed, we did our respective readings studiously and happily, then I went to my first Corporate Governance class under a very old professor who talks to slowly and gives out meandering notes but seems to have interesting stories and a firm outlook on life and Company law. I tried to learn all day, I will admit to some distraction, and when I finally emerged from school, Singapore was already all darkness and electric twinkles. Siew and Rachel (surprise) were waiting for me, and even though my brain moaned with the effort of staying awake any longer, we went to Island Creamery for ice cream where Rachel (Heng) called out my name and I touched Wen's neverending growth of bouncy curls. I just climbed into bed with my homework for another morning class tomorrow, feeling a little too desperate to be entirely happy.

2009-08-16T19:07:00.000+08:00

In International Patent Law class,

Classmate: Intellectual Property is really interesting stuff. International patent law is especially interesting, it's really policy-based. Have you done the readings? Are you interested in IP? I really think IP is something I want to pursue.
Me: Yes, it's all interesting but I find IP too bourgeois.

2009-08-11T23:42:00.003+08:00

The first day of the semester was pretty great. I enjoyed crawling awake to sip soybean milk in the garden that is my school, I loved singing while driving, I laughed at all my new professor's jokes, I formed a timetable, I had dinner with sunburnt friends, and found a loving note clipped under my car's windscreen wiper. We discussed the misery of work, compared it to happiness and the dreamy life, but the first day of school reminded me that work, if it does nothing else, still satisfies.

2009-08-10T01:01:00.003+08:00

A wariness of words has descended upon me. I guess in the last year I have lost a lot of prudent balance, filled with an eagerness to taste life that was slightly self-destructive, I waltzed into a lifestyle I didn't quite understand. School starts tomorrow (time is always right), bringing freshness, independence, possibly old habits, and many new lessons.

Here's what we did on National Day :D

2009-08-08T20:39:00.000+08:00

Best show ever.

2009-07-27T23:48:00.004+08:00

Singapore Cowboy just saved my blogger. Here's what I've been doing with my holidays.

2009-07-27T23:18:00.000+08:00

It looks like pictures are never going to go up on What a Thrill ever again. I shall be forced to be a (wo)man of my words. I took a walk today, from home to the Ion where Luke was waiting in white shirt, we ate very cheap sushi from 360 Marketplace and nibbled on a mediocre pumpkin chocolate slice while we walked through the new Wheelock underpass and waved goodbye to the expansive crossing that will be tarred over tomorrow. We came to a rest at the sunken Starbucks at Liat Towers, also known as people watching central, inhaled some second-hand smoke, admired the plant totems and listened to great lounge music blaring from delightfully hidden speakers. I walked home past the colourful RGS blocks, so still and silent in the night, nestled in wet dark trees. I'm very thankful for the weather tonight.

2009-07-26T15:51:00.001+08:00

I've been intending to do a picture post for a while now and I am going crazy not having been able to post pictures onto blogger for almost a week. Wait for them.

2009-07-19T01:30:00.002+08:00

Sunday already. I gaily whiled away my Wednesday blogging, reading, watching Desperate Housewives and skyping Jerrine, my Thursday with a box of cereal, the newspapers, Siew Rachel and Russell playing squash, then Island Creamery and Holland Village with Siew, my Friday nights with Ashlyn Karen and Jason again, and today I made everyone (Ashlyn Jia Ching Kenny) go to the beach for barbecue, sea breeze, the twinkling Singapore coastline sundown, rude comments and a walk. I wonder if I'll spend most of my life as an individual or an creature defined by the people around me.

2009-07-15T00:40:00.006+08:00

Something's up. Change is in the winds, I can catch whiffs of it everywhere like the smell of cooking oil at dusk. Right now, I have a senseless life. I am tucked in my bed trying to recall the happenings of the last week. The exact dates are lost now, but I know that Sam Shirin and I went cycling at East Coast, a bunch of us swigged wine at the Merlion and danced to Michael Jackson songs at Butter Factory, Ashlyn and I went to Tong Shui with Karen and Jason and ordered up a whole tableful of late night nonsense, Fawn Sam Luke Abel and I had weekend brunch at Rider's Cafe with the horses and the green fields and Jerrine on Skype too noisy to be heard, Ashlyn Yogi Kenny Abel and I went to Marutama again, and everyone piled in and I drove to the Laurent Bernard chocolate cafe in the rain, Sunday night was all steamboats and hugs, I found truant Yogi at Ashlyn's house and we met the baby Megan, Ching came to laugh about dead skin with us as we got our nails done in a really purple room, to beat Monday blues Sam Yogi Karen Ashlyn and I crawled awake before noon to have chicken rice at Far East Plaza and lined up for bubble tea and the bus, walked around Orchard, Abel and I spent a whole evening at the Taka food fair dripping crepe cream at the fountain, Luke and I ate grapes and avoided the terror in Sam's house.

I was looking at facebook pictures and these were taken secretly, beautifully and told such a story. Every picture of this girl in the album was perfect. I felt like I was seeing everything exactly as the photographer saw it. How nice it must be to be loved by someone who watches you with an eye of fascination, who snaps images of you at the exactly perfect moments when the lights falls on the right angles of your face, and your limbs are aligned to make pretty shadows, when your body is positioned in a beautiful shape, when your eyes say everything you hope the world to see but nobody does except this person who loves you so that he enjoys constantly looking out for the beauty in you. While everyone else glosses over you, somebody who loves you lingers, and invests effort to find your perfection. How nice to be thought of with the absolutism of romance, by a heart determined to love, with the patience for overlooking and forgiveness, with often undeserved appreciation, how nice to be chosen, not because you're perfect but to become perfect.

2009-07-08T01:09:00.002+08:00

It's not easy for me to say what youth is made of. This stuff is the structured, sometimes dull days of school semesters, but mostly it's the stuff of late nights in the summer. I don't know whether these nights are true happiness, just ignorance, or just information to be manipulated in the future by new perspectives. Some day all we'll have left will be memories, so they'd better be damn good ones. I like the holidays without those mindless blocks of profitless hours, but filled with freedom, humans, and senseless joy. I like the holidays for bringing everyone home to me, for reminding me who I used to be, who I am, and who I want to be. Today I drove in the rain and had lunch with Joy, I hung out with Sam, I talked to Rachel on Skype, and sang karaoke with Luke. I could have lived without them, just as I live without them for most of every year, but then I would slowly begin to forget what winning feels like.

The last time I recorded days was last Thursday. I recall meeting Ashlyn and Karen for lunch at an Indonesian place in Lucky Plaza, then cutting hair at a random Far East salon during the rainy afternoon, I recall having great Turkish kebabs with Siew, Rachel and Andre later that night at Amirah's in Bussorah St, and eating cake in front of a Chinese serial on TV. On Friday, I met Shirin and Joy for a quick while, then caught up with Wanyi for the rest of the afternoon with deceivingly-awful Gloria Jean's cake, when night fell I had burgers with Jia Ching, Ashlyn, Yogi, Kenny and Abel at Raffles Hotel then we traipsed to OChaCha that green tea cafe at the Raffles City basement. Saturday and Sunday were slow - parents wanted to go to Jumbo in Dempsey, the night was spent over dumplings at a cute little market in Serangoon Gardens, War of the Worlds on Channel 5, and Dwayne came to chat. Monday came too fast, Luke and I rolled out of bed to have brunch at Simply Bread, we enjoyed the greenery outside the window until we got sleepy and went home. I hung out with my brother for the rest of the afternoon, then went out with Abel at night to make a 7pm movie with Karen Jason and Ashlyn. We found ourselves late that night in Soup Spoon with the smell of disinfectant. Today, I picked Joy up in my bright red car in the grey rain, and went to Paragon again to find pasta at Spageddies. We caught up over our peas and she nibbled her brownie while we made jokes, then Sam ordered us home and the three of us ended up in my bed skyping an initially topless Rachel. Sam and I took a nap, then hopped down to the Environment government building on Newton Road to sing karaoke with Dwayne and Gwee which later expanded to include Luke, Abel, Michelle, Guanghao and Jerry. We drove off in many cars and made friends at Newton hawker centre later. It still tickles me to see everybody our age driving real cars.

2009-07-02T10:40:00.002+08:00

This was the first week of holidays again. I have few words. I remember that on Saturday I went to Tampines with my parents and grandparents, that it was a breezy, mild day spent watching the adults drink coffee. I remember that I spent Sunday waiting for plans to come through, had tea at Royal Coppenhagen with Abel, went to Kinokuniya then zipped to Navjote's for a very warm night. Then Monday came, and I didn't have to pop out of bed to get to the Treasury, so I munched on banana muffin and real banana slices while counting how many days of freedom I had left. I had tea with Athletic Ashlyn at Raffles City later that afternoon, and walked around with her until the world went dark, ending the very short, complete and excellent waste of a day. Tuesday hummed along, starting with watching the old woman at PS fry, grill and dip my Indonesian barbecued fish. I lazed the rest of the afternoon away, then called Ashlyn and Yogi from my bed and met them at Wheelock where I had supreme good luck with parking lots. We made a sufficient amount of noise (that is, for teenagers) at NYDC and Big O. Wednesday rolled along in all predictability, and I started it running an errand, then had ice cream topped with a squabble. I was comfortably snuggled up at home that evening until Siew and Rachel came to fetch me to Marutama, where the noodles weren't quite like the first time we discovered that shop.

Today is a pretty day, really light. But I'm having trouble opening my eyes because I think I scratched my right eye in my sleep.

2009-06-26T09:14:00.002+08:00

The pictures from below are from the weekend before. Since the week started, I've almost fallen sick, battled my allergies and avoided a cat to laugh with newly-returned Yogi Ashlyn Ching and Abel at the HongKong cafe in the corner of Marina Square. Also, I made Rachel and Siew drive down to Circular Road to try new ramen with me and went home that night with a splendidly icy mountain picture for my wall. Yesterday Sam Luke Simon and I went to watch Transformers 2, another American-pride film, which delighted us at first with very good acting from the boys but the action sort of flopped near the ending pyramid battle scenes.

In the regimented part of my life, I've met a friendly district judge, a business-like chief of SLA, a sensible, energetic superscale civil servant, a very excited IP registrar, a couple of strange in-house counsels, a surprisingly responsive cabinet minister, academics who talk slowly, and officers who are intelligent, fun, and still moral. I've seen beautiful offices, and offices that are ugly but have excellent views, I've seen something of how the machinery of Singapore is operated.

2009-06-24T22:18:00.003+08:00

2009-06-21T23:45:00.001+08:00

2009-06-17T09:17:00.002+08:00

So yesterday Jerrine and Luke asked me to go to Chomp Chomp, and after dessert at the shop with the really cool miniature Singapore shops, I was driving home in a stupor and it started to rain just as I was getting off the expressway. I didn't think to turn on my windscreen wipers because I was so sleepy, and the raindrops splattered on my windscreen in regular sizes and patterns, conclusively distorting the world outside as I waited at a red light. The Toyota in front of me had the number plate SFE 60D, and through the rain and the wild red brake lights, I read "SEE GOD". Startled, I blinked a few times, then the traffic lights turned green, and I followed the Toyota with my eyes for as long as I could.

2009-06-16T10:26:00.002+08:00

In the last few years, I've been so busy catching up on the million sleep hours that Raffles stole from us and treating my physical shell well that I've forgotten how exciting it is to lead a life of regular sleep-deprivation. I have been constantly sleep-deprived for half a month now, and the pleasures of slavishly obeying the needs of my body is just setting in. Any pressure in life is not self-created, but all sessions of reprieve are self-rewards. Okay, honestly I'm not working that hard at all, I'm actually having a surprising amount of fun in my office, it's only the hours that pose a challenge. But the feeling of desperate sleep-deprivation is familiar, and the constant one thing to do after another and another and friends to see one after another after another, making the most of every holiday, every hour, is even more familiar. On Saturday, I went to school to attend a symposium on Indian constitutionalism, then met classmates Huanting Zhifeng Navjote Hanyi Ramu at Masala Art, then drove with Abel to Jerrine's house where we found Dwayne in a head-squeezing and possibly brain-sucking device, and Luke in a cheeky grin. We settled in to watch Planet Terror, and I fell asleep very happily in between Jerrine and Abel. The next morning Abel and I went to the usual PS cafe for breakfast, we sat outdoors in the very pretty sunshine and I had ginger tea. I had to sleep for the entire afternoon but when night fell we went to Paragon with his parents, where we had dinner in an awesome glass corner of the new Sushi Tei. That night we stayed up late talking about what it was like being children. On Blue Monday I tumbled home and hung out with the family, then Jerrine came and we ate unusually fat Honey Stars in bed. Today I've taken a bit of time off editting a memo to blog, because I was overcome with that lovely familiar sensation of constant sleep-deprivation. Funny how I feel like I'm in control when the facts are that time absolutely controls me.

2009-06-13T00:16:00.002+08:00

TGIF? So quickly this week flew by, I just got home from intensive strolling (stopping only to get junk food) around City Hall malls with Yogi, I had a surprise Pocky-bearing visit from Abel, I watched Ninja Warrior, and I finally had lunch at that place with yellow walls and cool plastic lights by the river at Robertson Quay, Brussels Sprouts. The weekend promises to be filled with activity, I am excited about life.

2009-06-10T09:52:00.003+08:00

Must chronicle the days. The last weekend was tiring. First it started with Stef's birthday. I drove down to the Anchorage after it got dark, where Rachel Ming Andre and Cass already were, then Shirin and Sam Jo arrived. We gathered around to sing Happy Birthday, but over the lighted candles a funny song was sung first. The night ended with Stef walking me to the carpark in her shiny dress and rubber slippers. On Saturday afternoon, Abel and I went to get giant burgers at Carl's Junior, waffle fries and a lot of iced tea. Then hung out with friends around Orchard Road like everyone in Singapore should on Saturday afternoons. We shopped with Jerrine and Andre together for a good part of the day, then met Luke Simon and JunSheng at the sofas in Banana Republic. When it was time for dinner, I took Jerrine Luke and Andre to wanton mee at Far East. We all drove home in our separate cars, showered and lay in bed for a while before meeting at Jerrine's tv room to play Raving Rabbids. The night ended at about three, in a crowded McDonald's somewhere in Ang Mo Kio. Sunday began with my grandmother calling me, lunch with my grandparents over which they sang Teochew nursery rhymes, and driving around the east. I spent the afternoon in my room by myself, then ventured out to Little India with Siew who had paint in her hair, and Rachel. I drove out just as the moon was rising - it was huge and round and golden. Being in Little India on a Sunday night was interesting. There were no roads to drive on, no where to park, no shops to walk into, for the sheer amount of people thronging the little shophouses. People were exchanging wads of cash, buying vegetables and onions, collecting sacks of rice, forming queues outside money transfer businesses, just chilling out with their friends over paper cups of beer. We weaved through the crowd and Tekka market construction boards, and by luck and a little navigation found a little eatery called Sri Kamala's where Siew had to have the thosai. I got home happy and excited with the smells of a different country.

When the week started, I wrote a memo pretty quick, and had lunch with the new intern. When my mother came to take me home, I was so tired I slept in the car then fell comatose on my bed until dinner was called. Yesterday, Yuch and I went to the Legal Aid Bureau. We ran into Zhifeng, talked to the director about access to justice, found out that the government refuses to provide legal aid to people accused of crimes (atrocious!), was taken out to lunch by two lawyers in a very pretty old wooden shophouse in Kampung Glam where I ran into schoolmates, spent the afternoon listening to the problems of the masses (again, a reminder that we are hundreds of years away from the Enlightenment renaissance), and enjoying the company of people who have the patience to do good things.

Jerrine and Luke came to my house last night and we lay in bed symmetrically blabbering, stretching, laughing and sleeping. Later Simon called, and Luke drove us out (I still don't know what is the car's registration plate except that it starts with SJ...) to Greenwood where we had surprisingly good gelato at Estivo and the kind of extremely comfortable conversation that I forgot we always had. Sometime after midnight, I crawled into bed and fell asleep in front of the pixellated image of a loving (I believe this might be the first time I'm using this word on What a Thrill, how grown up am I now) boyfriend on Skype.

2009-06-07T14:52:00.001+08:00

Being free and being loved has always seemed to me a bargain. It is the understanding and affliction of someone who has always had too much.

I didn't waste a single night this week.

2009-06-04T22:33:00.005+08:00

The Work Week began in a rather typical manner. I made sure to wear a neat black skirt and white shirt on the first day, without any accessories that could suggest that I was capable of occasionally being anti-establishment, I brought stationery (a clean notebook and a some free gift pen my mother once left lying around in my room) to reduce my usual impression of flightyness, and packed a suitably mild attitude. I've never been in the civil service, but figured the experience at SPH to be a good gauge. The first few days in the bureaucracy were slow, people were kindly, mostly intelligent, some passionate, but all a little unexciting. My intern buddy and I were given a project to work on, which has spun out issues that sufficiently engaged me now, and a timetable of rather unexpected stuff has been planned for us. Legal officer mentor told us we were all ISD approved, which was a fact that pleased and annoyed me at the same time. Tomorrow we're going to watch a whole bunch of Singapore's top lawyers mock test new provisions. I am really quite the eager intern, and glad to find such living interest still finding place in my heart.

The warm (weather-wise and emotionally) nights have been great, better appreciated because of the blindingly cold office days. On Monday, Jerrine came over to have dinner with me and we screamed to each other until almost midnight. Tuesday, Mummy picked me up after work and bought banana muffins and cinnamon buns. Yesterday was the best day all week. First, Siew and Rachel came to the Treasury to surprise lunch me! We ate Thai food next door right next to the glass walls so I could look down at all the tiny CBD folk in their shiny black shoes, there were many hot and sour and sweet things and Siew made me eat more so that I wouldn't be cold. Then during the rest of the afternoon over statute research, I was invited to dinner. At eight, Luke Jerrine Dwayne Abel and I met at Marutama. There was a lot of bad Singlish, table banging, re-enactment of life happenings and shouting. Halfway through our bowls of salty chicken soup, we spied in the little shop window Shirin and Stef's faces! Oh, I was pleased as punch. In a daze, I left Abel in the loving hands of Jerrine Luke and Dwayne by the pretty Clarke Quay river, and stumbled home consumed by the pull of sleep. Today, I had a lovely day in the library, then watched the sun sink in the large windows overlooking the busy Victoria St, the cars sliding upside-down on the window sill, Fort Canning hill providing the illusion something huge and comforting, the colourful windows of MICA shining really quite cheerily. I detatched myself from my keyboard and went to have donuts with Yogi and Ching. Later, they coerced me into eating at McDonald's, I chose a great toy with my Happy Meal but (now I realise) left it on my tray.

2009-05-31T10:05:00.004+08:00

After I wrote the last post, I spent a great night getting my things together for Hong Kong, got called to pop down to Adam Road by Ramu Hanyi and Zhifeng, then met Jiaqing in his neighbourhood. We drove down Bukit Timah Road to buy pastry then spent the rest of the night on Skype. I talked to Ashlyn on skype till pretty late that night.

By the next night we were in Hong Kong, received by (beanie baby) Kenny and (a glamourous) Ching. Pictures of the week that followed.

The view that greeted us the first night in Kenny's house.

The Arch

The view from another angle

Singing to Hong Kong until midnight

Lotus leaf rice to celebrate Dragon Boat Festival

Dragon boats seen from a yacht

Before we had dinner in Joia

The surprisingly beautiful view of ugly Mongkok

Di si ni le yuan

2009-05-23T17:06:00.004+08:00

I can't believe it's already been a week! Started out slow, I spent Monday then Tuesday mostly in bed, it's amazing how many hours I can while away, but by the end of the week I'd cut my hair (a lot shorter), watched a large amount of tv (Desperate Housewives, Mad Men and Friends), visited the dentist, had dinner at my grandparents', helped Yogi stave off some jetlag, made audience to the submissions of an appeal case about freedom of speech (calling it defamation is focussing on the negative), went to brunch with Rachel, watched Star Trek (BEAM ME UP SCOTTIE), and had Japanese set lunches with my parents. Tomorrow I intend to be on a plane to our country-twin HongKong, where Kenny and Ching are waiting with loving open arms.

2009-05-17T10:07:00.001+08:00

The utter abandonment of sensibilities continues. The week approached its end with brunch at Spruce, a casual cabin by a cheerily green hill. Abel and I sat at a small table, in front of a blue painting, and filled it with a tall burger, spiced fries (mushy just the way I like them), yoghurt and panna cotta with jam and very good crumble, an excellently oozy chocolate tart, mushrooms with butter, a foamy hot chocolate in a porcelain cup, and the newspapers. The weather was very lovely, just the breezy kind perfect for brunch in the sun, we did some exploring and got hunted down by an extremely rude security guard. We went home and I couldn't help falling asleep, but when we woke up in the evening we went for a dip in the pool. Oh that was very much fun, Abel tossed me about making splashes until I laughed, then we lay around by the jacuzzi jets talking about nonsense I don't remember now.

Friday started with a giant pomfret in Paragon with Abel and his mother, sweater shopping, many mangoes. Then a wet night with Siew and Ming at the (Teletubby land) Marina Barrage. I picked them up in their white shirts and black blazers then we drove to the dark wet and windy new part of Singapore to watch the emersion of a giant praying mantis with blazing green eyes, Helios acrobats, and performers on stilts dancing with jump-ropes. After the surprisingly huge fireworks display, we got complimentary Newater, and we also splashed very happily, pants rolled up into the wading pool/fountains near the little taxi-boats. There were water curtains, bubbly spouts, water sliding down walls, dancing high jets, fine sprays and they all glowed different colours. Of course the Marina Bay lights and the perfect coloured hoop that is the Flyer twinkled in the distance. Eventually, we emerged entirely soaked, tried feebly to dry up under a hand dryer, and instead dripped our way to where my car was parked (hiden) through growing grass that smelled like the zoo. I ended up in the wretched CBD again trying to drive Ming home, but a few turns later, Nicoll Highway restored my driving confidence by proving enjoyable. Siew and I started to feel filthy so we went home for a shower then arranged to meet Rachel and Andre who were fresh from their lewd comedy night, at Tong Shui for the regular orders of noodles and toast. With a warm full stomach and pleasingly familiar voices of friends I trust very much swirling around my head, I zipped home in the lovely darkness of Singapore roads, buried my phone in the rice bucket in the kitchen and snuggled into bed with my laptop.

The next day began with dimsum at Imperial Treasure with the family, of course we ticked off too many things on the encouraging order slips, I slurped up many bowls of congee very happily. After that I met Navjote at the National Library Pod which has the most awesome comprehensive view of the city wow I just stared for hours. Plus the weather was perfectly cloudy so there was no glare, just a horizon of blocks tempered by gentle smoky pale blue and pink. The new Ambassador-at-Large presented some humbleness, frankness, made me re-define certain concepts, but also reinforced my sad impression of the doctrine-oriented mindsets of the current government. I felt particularly tickled when he emphasized that the modern government does not 'just invite you to a tea party' but seriously considers contributions from citizens in dialogue sessions, while the three blocks of the new casinos loomed half-constructed right outside the window that was behind him. I got acquainted with some of Navjote's work friends, then we drove to Central to meet the rest of our classmates Daryl Zhifeng Yee Ler Elly Jean for dinner which was at the sweltering Fisherman's Wharf, then we all trooped along with Zhifeng leading as usual, to our favourite SRT to watch our favourite teacher as a Mathematician father. The play was great, I haven't enjoyed the ride of a good story in a long time, because school demands inquisitive control sometimes quite opposite to the thrill of receiving. After the show, we adjourned at the Coffee Club in Clarke Quay with Sam Jo Cheng Chai Hanyi Ramu and everyone shared good news, caught up on happenings in each other's lives, and even squeezed in a birthday song. On my way home I discovered a flat tyre, and this morning my father said it was punctured. Haha! This day last week I was also helping to discover a punctured tyre. Life indeed has a pattern.

2009-05-16T01:53:00.002+08:00

It was a really gleeful night, even though upon its cessation I am faced with a waterlogged phone and five paint scratches on my car. Problems are for tomorrow! In case any of you are trying to contact me, well, you know not to. (Skype?)

2009-05-14T10:56:00.004+08:00

Hahaha! It never ends. It's like I live in candyland. The day before, I trawled aircon malls all afternoon, then found the best view in Singapore in a food court. I'm guessing the view was about 230 degrees of Marina Bay, there was the grey shape of the IR, traffic on the Sheares bridge, the little Esplanade points of course, the entire CBD across the smooth black water - nibbling char siew has never been this lovely.

Then yesterday evening, Dwayne came over in a tasteless t-shirt then I drove us out to Dempsey where we came across what is in my opinion one of the nicest restaurants ever. Friends, you'll like the fajitas. It had red blue and pink walls, great big windows with wooden frames, candles everywhere and paintings and a giant Spanish dress on the walls, and little plants everywhere. Later we decided that we couldn't skip over our old friend PS cafe, so we walked there, chose a seat in the garden complete with toad at my feet, and ordered the sticky date cake with that thick layer of toffee cream. I am writing this in bed while the sun beats gently outside my window and light sparkles into the blue pool downstairs, the world is green (even if Singaporean cultivated artificial landscaping) in all the correct intervals of buildings, later I'm going to drive to the windy Tanglin road to find brunch with my lover.

2009-05-13T00:26:00.002+08:00

Why is life so nice? What did I ever do to deserve this?

2009-05-11T18:02:00.003+08:00

It's been a long rainy weekend. Since leisure was restored, (in no order) I've had fish and chips under a very pleasant Bukit Timah sunset, spent half an afternoon at PS cafe reading translated verses, went to dinner in a dark Japanese restaurant, walked to a bakery in the middle of the afternoon, brushed up on my Chinese, went out to the new Cafe Iguana and had a pink guava margarita, my old tuition teacher paid me a surprise visit, tried to replace a punctured tyre, bought a chocolate cupcake, and watched a very old Jackie Chan film. The week will be over before I know it, and it shall be full of excellent enjoyment.

2009-05-08T22:48:00.004+08:00

My grandparents don't care about any of the other things everyone else uses to evaluate me. In fact, I find it impossible to find any kind of standard they may have for me.

2009-05-07T09:30:00.003+08:00

Liberte, liberte! The Great Leaders of our nation have got it right. It's not even all its made out to be (lots of crime, market inefficiency and indignity of politics), and you can't possibly live on something so airy. The first days of summer have started out slow because I didn't plan it. It began with some loitering in the fresh sun, crispy pizza, a kids movie and the Latin samba sounds of That CD Shop, then a white rose (perfect like the Beauty and the Beast one), yakitori in a quiet restaurant in the city, a walk through Singapore Town that I haven't seen properly in a while (its night sillouhette is still inpeccable), ice cream in the Raffles Hotel courtyard under an odd-shaped moon. The freedom is not much but it's so nice to be young, I feel like I need absolutely nothing - not even time.

2009-05-03T11:31:00.007+08:00

Last night's thunderstorm reminded me that I need to pour some cold water over last night's inspiring victory.

Two things I am concerned with
The 'winners' in yesterday night's voting showdown are now calling the event 'the birth of civil society' and 'a historical moment for Singapore'. I agree that the combinatin of concern over public issues plus the action of voting does mimic a healthy civil society. However, the 'victory' cannot be titled the beginning of 'civil society'.

First, the pots have spent all month yelling 'Black, black!' at the kettles. While it is indeed terribly civil for us to recognise minority rights, the behaviour of the people behind the so-called liberal 'Old Guard White-shirts' have been nothing but civil. They have demonstrated themselves to be nasty and uncivil. Boo-ing at before speeches begin, name-calling (bigot, bitch, cunt), picture defiling, sarcasm, silencing well-intentioned efforts at promoting what the person believes is for the good of the public, demeaning religion, unwillingness to listen to explanations, this has all been a shameful, shameful display of intolerance and bigotry itself.

Seond, we are not looking to build a civil society, but a civic one. This is a fine difference - but it seems to me that civicness suggests an emphasis on commitment and duty to people in society, while civil only maintains a concern with individualism.

But technicalities aside. Third, while there are many reasons to celebrate the triumph of equality and empathy, perhaps liberalism, which I admit are core ingredients of a successful civic society, last night's affair was not so much the birth of civic-mindedness but simply the reinstatement of these good values.

Singaporeans have had a burgeoning civil and civic society for a long time now. Civil society means the citizen's engagement with other citizens and public affairs. Singapore's civil society has always existed, only variated in size. Granted, it has never achieved much by education but more by incendiarism, and this publicity (voting turnout of 2800, almost half of the Sunday Times is about last night's event) will succeed in engaging more and more citizens :) , I am worried that calling the beastly ousting of group of women not proven to be entirely dastardly the 'birth of civil society' is a fatal validation of majoritarianism, of unlimited power, and future disguised practices of intolerance. The celebration of civil society should have been at the beginning of the EGM, when the crowd was strong, active, and (I hope) respectful, not at the end. Celebrating the 1414 result as 'the birth of civil society' is attractive, but very dangerous.

So far, the journalists have been careful not to adopt the idea of 'the birth of civil society' and I am thankful for that. However, the Internet is equally powerful now, and the potential for this mistake to take root is great.

To be truly Aware, Singaporeans dancing in the pretty morning sun today should realise what we are truly celebrating is liberalism, empathy, tolerance, and one small step towards equality.

2009-05-03T10:11:00.001+08:00

A Case for Natural Law?
Also, one thing I have learned from Thio Su Mien
Lawyers should always remember that the world is filled with people who are not lawyers. We work in a secured environment of rules and certainty, but to venture out into the world we must surivive without these concepts. Legalism will always be taken over by the unbridled, informal, passions of the people. The Constitution is written in people's hearts.

2009-05-02T20:22:00.010+08:00

Dear, dear Women at Suntec,

Vote of no confidence passed against AWARE's new Exco, with a margin of 1414 to 761 votes
More than 2000 women made their way to the Suntec Convention Centre today to join snaking queues, pay $40 for registration and participate in a tiring 6 hour long meeting to show support for the female rights NGO's steering towards promoting freedom of sexuality.

(and so creative and efficient!)

Thank you for giving me a reason to feel proud tonight.

My mother called it 'Singapore's first demonstration'.

Honestly, I didn't have faith in the EGM today. I thought the Singaporean Aware electorate was going to reaffirm the return to focus solely on women's rights, minus the freedom of sexuality. All the factors seemed against the validating the NGO's adventure into sexuality issues. First, the conservatives possess the motivation of religion, and this usually commands a higher voter turnout (see George W Bush's election 2004). Second, Aware's focus was never supposed to be sexuality, all sorts of technical reasons arise for the return to traditional women's issues (battered wives are you know, still being battered). Third, considering that a woman's only trump is the eternal and unique ability of childbirth, there is a pretty substantial case that women's social position suffers directly from the dissolution of the traditional Family.

I've always thought being born as a female Singaporean is one of the luckiest things in the world. We have access to all sorts of freedoms: education, wealth, meritocracy, equal civil rights, fashion, religion, love, and even sexuality. We drive, we vote, we dance, we get privilege credit cards, we can become doctors (see the 2002 quota abolition for the Yong Loo Lin School of Medicine), and we have the right to expect elaborate weddings. We live in one of the most cosmopolitan, technologically advanced cities. Under the law, Singaporean women enjoy greater freedoms and protections than Singaporean men. Singaporean women are protected by rape laws, men are not. Singaporean women cannot be prosecuted for homosexual acts, men can be. Even the remnants of Asian tradition in our society actually work to our advantage. Singaporean women are not expected to work soul-sucking jobs to feed their families, men do. Singaporean women are treated with respect, but don't suffer under the social expectation of deference to men evident in many other Asian countries. My God, Singaporean women are the most pampered people in the world, full stop.

It often amazes me, just how much we've got. It doesn't seem like this position is something Singaporean women have worked to achieve, it was bestowed upon us. And I am very glad that tonight proves we have not wasted it. Women, affected year on year by oestrogen, crying, pouting, screaming, denying logic, tripping themselves up over their own imagination, worrying, nagging and being endlessly territorial, are also in the best condition to be forgiving, gentle, nurturing, kind, wise, and embracing. Women can be the carriage of genuine equality. Education has empowered us to understand that 'some are more equal than others' is a cruel maxim used by the weak. Enjoying the privileges of being a Singaporean female has broadened our minds to seek equality not just for ourselves, but for everyone else. Tonight's EGM was restricted to age 18 and above. The girls of Singapore, laughing growing and learning, have not even had the chance to speak yet. My guess is that they will be even more emphatic than their mothers.

The Singaporean Woman will not "shut up and sit down", she will stand up and speak.

2009-04-26T22:46:00.002+08:00

The days, they just melt into one another.

2009-04-22T00:33:00.002+08:00

See, see how brave and grown up I am now. Thank you Sam Jo, for taking me into one of my greatest fears.

2009-04-20T21:20:00.003+08:00

I never understood why adults sometimes had problems sleeping at night. As a child, every night I tucked myself into the exact right position, staring at the detail in some fabric, granting a disproportionately large amount of attention to some object (composed of millions of molecules but devoid of life) that could never wake up and appreciate my offering, waiting for my eyelids to weigh down like velvet curtains at the theatre, my only impatience was in getting to unconsciousness. Thoughts about tomorrow were always left for tomorrow, thoughts about the past could always be remain obediently there. They would would never grumble, never demand any improvements, never climb onto my mind's stage for an encore, a rehearsal, a guerilla rally. Nothing flew about, colourful, dangerous, constantly exciting. There were lots of new things in the world to a child of course, but everything was just something new to be learnt. Everything belonged exactly where it should be, just like I belonged in my bed.

2009-04-19T11:56:00.003+08:00

The mornings are especially pleasing, sweet and drowsy, framed by cute white clouds that hint at infinity yet look reassuring, leaves that sparkle emerald in every breeze, cheery sounds trickling in through my window. I hate the afternoons, brash, empty and ugly.

2009-04-18T14:25:00.004+08:00

Ah, I forget that writing on my blog worries people, everyone being so far away. I verify that I am utterly far from danger, simply crazy. Insanity is not so bad, it gives time a touch of naturalness. Dawn has never been my moment, it was interesting being alone and quiet at the breakfast table, having all that extra time to plan the day while waiting for everyone to wander out of their warm beds, I guess there's something to be thankful for in this madness.

2009-04-18T05:06:00.004+08:00

What's going on? I woke up about an hour and a half ago feeling hot and cold all over, plagued with unhappy, anxious thoughts of unimportant details, my head throbs with panic, my heart is beating fast and I can't make it slow down, breathing is so difficult, my body doesn't feel like it belongs to me. I am desperately, so desperately tired. The dark rings collect around my eyes like a disease, yet I don't know how to sleep. I am so wakeful that my brain is overheating, my mind chases itself around in circles, I feel like throwing up because of that persistent sense of dislocation. I don't know how to cling on to reality instead of falling into this dark stirring restless pool of confusion, terror, self-sabotage. What's wrong with me?

2009-04-13T13:53:00.002+08:00

Very important that I continually tend to this. The last week was pretty subdued, as weeks drawing close to exams tend to be. Ming Andre and I finally tried Le Petite Cuisine, met the funny Stalin-ish old French chef, read the newspapers over their checkerred tablecloths, and had excellent croissants. In between some homework and some shopping, I went to weekend dimsum at Carlton with parts of the larger family, watched My Blueberry Nights on a very cosy rainy night, went out to lunch at Aerin's with my mother, watched a lot of old Friends episodes with my brother, and had rectangle pizzas at Sixth Ave with Abel on a night that made me feel free like I was on holiday while the world was strangely in hibernation.

2009-04-06T23:07:00.000+08:00

So there, the weekend drew to a close without much fanfare at all. Thursday night, Dwayne popped over just after I'd climbed into bed with my Equity and Trusts essay, so I ended up eating chocolate and talking very comfortably past midnight. On Friday, we all trooped to St Regis for Ah Ma's birthday which started alright, both baby boys were brought out and it shocked me when my aunt picked up the other boy and her own watching from across the table cried 'Mama!' and agonised with frighteningly primitive jealousy. I had my own menu as usual, noodles sweet meats, soup all different from everyone else's, but after the cake was cut things ended on a startling note. I came home nervous and contemplative, paralysed by an emotional hold. By Saturday morning, I was in school again with Siew. We went to a very crowded class which I did not prepare for but partially enjoyed, then I spent home alone time. That night Terence swung by to take me to dinner, I was glad to behave socially, to strap myself into the passenger seat and blink at the passing traffic lights while listening to music I don't have a choice over, to see the many many Singaporeans milling all about in Saturday night dinner fashion, especially the throngs that sat at plastic tables in Bugis alleys, sweaty cheerful faces peering over boiling pots of steamboat soup. Sunday morning came around, Abel was home again, so we met Kenny at DongDongDong Kuishin Bo for lunch accompanied by the storm. I did very typical weekend window shopping, slept for a teensy bit of time, then found myself in Kenny's architectural dream of a house once more, with strange food and strange people. The weekend was pretty eventful. I haven't been sleeping much, snatching naps when life doesn't feel so hard, today it rained until I could barely see anything outside my window, the world was a heavy grey-white roaring of water. The climax of Lady Chatterley's Lover is when she and her lover run out into the pouring rain naked, pick flowers and weave them through each other's hair, warm up by a fire, and in the process found a new spirit. When the sun came out today after the storm, and the sky slowly turned a pretty light blue again, I tried to imagine somebody out there who was refreshed, new, undaunted, and excited.

2009-04-02T19:10:00.001+08:00

The days are humming along, rather too quickly. In the interest of remaining faithful to the blogging creed, since the last post, attended Wild Rice's The Importance of Being Earnest and gone to the Marina Barrage where Cass and Rachel were having a picnic for Ming. The weekend is here again, on Sunday night perhaps I will be telling you about how very many more lovely things I did.

2009-03-27T22:15:00.007+08:00

Being happy, I think it starts with saying out loud "I want to be happy." Most in the world struggle to do it, chasing euphoria desperately mistaking it for happiness. Declaring happiness is by no means an easy thing to do, it requires a great measure of courage because happiness, compared to the gorgeous complexities of sadness, is blank. It is a great big emptiness like the hole of a donut, the stillness in a photograph. Happy and Endings belong together because finality is something inherent in happiness. Peace, balance, contentedness are frustratingly knotted up in endings. To choose to be happy, first you must decide to end the consuming sadness. And this is what makes it so difficult. I have to choose a blank, an unknown factor, to reject the familiar worries and characteristic insecurities. I have to choose the end. It is like leaping into thin air, afraid of that stomach-terrible feeling of no support, all the while harbouring that jealous expection to fly. For the unlucky, there is no guarantee of success.

I am not sure I have yet been this envious and brave.

2009-03-25T14:47:00.002+08:00

What was I thinking, running around madly looking for security, certainty, routine? I am inspired by human variety, energized by events, I acquire clarity in disorganization. I thrive on change.

Every day is new. I could be anybody tomorrow.

2009-03-25T13:05:00.003+08:00

2009-03-22T12:43:00.002+08:00

The air is delicious. It's a perfect 27 degrees indoors, the leather on my sofa is cool to the touch, there are tiny olive-backed and yellow-breasted birds chirping at my balcony, I smell my chocolate cinnabun in the toaster, the lousy thesundaytimes spread out on the coffee-table, and some neighbour is playing slow rock music.

2009-03-22T00:31:00.003+08:00

Dear Friends, here is an idea of where I've been. In lieu of words:

On the way to KL

Indoor Stadium

School in the morning.

(Don't you miss this road, Rachel?)

Amazing huh.

Mount Sophia

Selegie

Lincoln Rd

2009-03-17T13:33:00.004+08:00

On Words
My mother taught me how to read. My belief in the power of words was nurtured by her reading bedtime stories to me every night, her holding my hand to form tedious letters, her taking me to the public library and leaving me alone to choose the most attractive tales to my difficult individual.

I told my mother I had a nightmare the other night. This morning, I found unceremoniously dumped in my dustbin, a paperback copy of a thriller novel 'Absolute Fear', and an old, well-used, its former red colour faded to pink, hardback copy of The Bible by my bedside. I understood this to be a delightful example of word-superstition.

2009-03-15T09:59:00.002+08:00

The morning is pretty though getting hotter. The week has shot by again, I spent most of it battling off a cold, very gratefully practising the art of doing nothing in bed.

2009-03-10T21:12:00.004+08:00

We just came from the dim, breezy square that is Raffles Place. Since a few weeks ago when lawyers at the careers fair asked me what areas of law I loved and I was painfully unable to answer them, I have been questioning my choice of career because inspiration was leaking away. I am glad that tonight I was inspired again, not by any demonstration of high skill but by the simple interaction between our class of seven and our two sensible, polite, outwardly satisfied lawyer tutors at D&N.

Choosing to do the right thing when one is empowered with choice must be one of the best feelings in the world. When you trust in eventualities, then you can relax and make rational, non-emotional decisions. Balance is encouraged, and goodness, because desperation has no place. Often, doing the right thing gets you what you want more solidly than trying. The power of choice allows for real prioritization, not the kind of prioritization that you do to identify the level of necessity in each concern, but genuine allocation of attention to ensure rights in the things that are actually capable of definition by the individual. The power of choice is pleasing, it supports efficiency, it engages the conscience.

The power of choice is arrived at by the rejection of banal impulses. It can be denied by dealing with insecurities. These distort the reception of information. Choice is enhanced by an open mindset, simple ideas, and contentedness.

I feel particularly empowered tonight, I now know that I can do whatever I want even if I am wrong in the end. Choosing the do the right thing in intervals is hard work. Choosing not to embark on the task at all is gambling. There is no satisfaction in leaping towards a happy ending, only euphoria. I do not want that because euphoria is unconscious pleasure, but satisfaction is more enjoyable by its consciousness. I want to find pockets of uprightness all along the hopefully long way.

2009-03-09T23:05:00.002+08:00

I haven't been good with this. It's because things haven't been straight enough to transform into words. Life has been simple, and still complicated. Every day it has been raining. While you can count on the skies to open up, you still have to face the trouble of getting wet. I've done very simple things in the last week, went to Saturday night dinner at Prinsep again (this street is really starting to grow on me) with Kenny Abel and Jia Ching, had many course set lunch with Siew Ming and Andre, went to school, talked nonsense with my brother at home, drove around quite much, hung out getting chocolate headaches in cafes with Dwayne, ran about in the rain. Complicated, because things have been messy in my head due to a lack of accurate self-reflection, situational evaluation, or emotional reconciliation. Mostly, I have been living in a dream, a gentle rocking, sweet haze, light with awareness and heavy on pleasure. Since the year began I've stirred some, started to feel a little bit of reality, I think the awakening proceeds henceforth. I shall be pleased when morning comes.

2009-03-04T23:39:00.002+08:00

I just found a soft flower petal in my room. I can't think which plant it came from. It is still fresh with colour and tender with moisture. It is fluttery and restful, a pale yellow, I think maybe the colour of happiness.

2009-03-03T00:31:00.002+08:00

Here's an experience: Andre Ming and I are in school right now in the red plush of the LKY Public Policy school. There is a chocolate cake-stained box on the table, a Rachael Yamagata song playing and friends arguing with each other in matter-of-fact voices. I am delirious with hunger and sleepiness but my priority is the intricacies of the Education Act.

2009-03-02T11:14:00.004+08:00

I had a very slow weekend. On Friday, Andre and I worked on our essay then watched Slumdog Millionaire, chatted in Barang-Barang, then I got home by nightfall. I enjoyed being at home that night, feeling dependent and doing nothing. In the morning, and I mean the crickets and cold dew kind of morning, I jumped out of bed scrambled to get stuff together then Abel's parents drove us through the bright smooth country roads of Malaysia. We found ourselves in KL by noon, had hot, sour Vietnamese noodle soup in a calm, empty-ish shopping mall, then indulged in standard weekend time strolling around, taking an afternoon nap, laughing, purchasing, wondering about dinner. The rain came down that night, starting with dirty city drizzle as we traipsed the streets for foot refloxology, followed by noisy midnight showers as I snuggled under the fat white blanket, and continuing till the next afternoon as a huge tropical thunderstorm over the hills of dark green oil palms. The storm was quite something, cosy comfort for us inside the humming car as everything outside the windows turned into mild sheets of grey, torrents of water splashing angrily outside dotted by the desperate flicker of orange hazard lights.

2009-02-26T11:31:00.002+08:00

After tugging out 3000 words from my very unwilling intellectual depth, in a manner not unlike the villagers pulling out The Enormous Turnip, I have very few left to offer you.

I have not been to school since last Thursday, and my world is once again changed from just one week before. The rain is constant, sheltering and beautiful, I am sleeping enough, I went shopping, watched Heroes all the way to the last episode, I had sushi by the marble fountain in taka, I watched Andre win $600 during a lovely campus evening, I ate fried chicken at the airport, oh and spent the Friday night in the tranquility of Mount Emily.

Tonight I will pick a pair of heels and totter to our favourite theatre Robertson Quay where I will be enclosed in the comfort of musty theatre props, green RJC skirts dusty from being worn all day, know-it-all humanz students chattering, the certainty of common intellectual passions, and one of my tireless teachers, again in the spotlight.

2009-02-21T13:04:00.005+08:00

Thank you for showing me that goodness pays off as luck and faith can make you good, friends will keep you safe, that discipline turns into confidence and principles make a man, that affection can be delivered firmly, and that sympathy often operates best mindfully.

2009-02-17T10:08:00.001+08:00

The day is beautiful again. I enjoyed my 3 minute drive to school.

2009-02-16T14:29:00.003+08:00

2009-02-16T14:09:00.005+08:00

Dreary, dreary, dreary. All colours have faded into something white and stinging, the sky is a uniform oppressive grey, a thick haze blocks anything formerly pretty. It's difficult to breathe. I haven't told you about anything I've done this week except cry, I'm just going to let it dissolve in the terrible grey fog.

I have been waiting for something to change every day, a turnaround point, a spark of goodness that might allow me to put the week behind, shut it out with relief and refreshment, most of all, forget entirely. This has not come, the bad luck looks ready stick with me. The unfortunate events each accompanied by a mild despondency will continue to trail me like a horrible black cat.

I realise this type of lesson is to prevent me from forgetting again. My series of unfornate events will snake its way through my life and memory, abating as I apply caution or as I find love, but never truly disappearing, so that I may never again be so arrogant in my happiness.

2009-02-11T22:35:00.005+08:00

(No point worrying those of you far away. It is nothing much.) One, two, three, four, five. Five is for every day I have had to cry. Next week will be here soon enough. I hope to emerge respectful, kind, thoughtful, focused, gentle, happy, peaceful. Nothing like the way I feel constantly now - defensive, angry, vulnerable, alone, confused, tired, and painfully, painfully aware of reality.

2009-02-07T15:33:00.003+08:00

It's not too early to think this. 2009 is going to kill another little part of me.

Around the time of my 21st birthday, I will be alone again on this pretty island.

I hope it will be ok.

2009-02-04T11:52:00.006+08:00

When is a government against its own people?

Do you feel it yet? That mild marginalization, that little knot of injustice, that uncertain helplessness?

A while ago, a big minister we met described policy-making in Singapore as 'the business of government'. I was affronted by this choice of words. Is this country being run like a business? Does the government take the view that its running a factory production line? Efficiency, efficiency, efficiency. I know that's the mantra I grew up with.

I sincerely hope not. There is one terribly magnificent reason for desperately preventing this place from being run like a factory, God forbid those in power now ever forget that. In business, the men in charge exploit the rest for their usefulness but justify this by providing a salary (citizenship), job security (fundamental liberties), dental care (free speech), insurance (bank deposits guarantees), and child care (PSLE). In government, the men in charge are supposed to represent the rest, to work in the best interests of the masses, to do everything in their powers to protect the people. I say, isn't that the opposite of compensated exploitation?

Anyway, I find it hard to complain that we are being treated like privileged slaves because, does anyone really know whether we are governed by businessmen? Everything is so secret! Does anyone even have any idea how this country is run?

There are a few indications though, some would call them unfounded hunches. I think that a government turns against its own people when it is unable to explain policies. But that is merely an indication that the government has already turned on its people. The betrayal begins long before the scene of the stuttering minister trembling with vague words and overly assertive rhetoric behind the crest of parliament.

It begins when the people in power have been in power for so long that they have the ability to encourage ignorance, in case one day they may be asked embarrassing questions. Shame is the natural predator of injustice, it must be disabled.

A government may turn against the judiciary, parliament, against the president, but when has it turned against the very people they represent? When it refuses to believe when it is wrong, when it refuses to accept its fair share of shame.

A government turns on its people when it encourages its own ignorance. 'I am not a constitutional law expert, I am not an economist'. Blindness is a hospitable place for cruelty. A leader who turns a blind eye to hypocrisies in his own government is breeding a capacity for mercilessness.

My government has yet to admit fault. Failed policies and their accompanying legal amendments have been tucked under, swept away, hushed.

My government is so extremely dominated by one party, they have to bring in nominated members just for the sake of keeping up the appearance of diversity of opinion. An appearance of diversity is not enough to support this society of 4 million people and their substantial wealth.

A significant opposition is needed to tell the government it is wrong when it is wrong. Of course the opposition is more often wrong than the dominant party, they make more mistakes. But mistakes will be made, even by these perfect angelic men in white.

There is an in-built fuse for preventing the evil consequences of lousy policies from leaking out and poisoning the public. It's quite beautiful engineering, really. These are the people in the government who shout 'stop'. Functionally, it does not matter whether they shout because of false courage or true integrity.

Let's bring back the jibber-jabber. This government needs to be told they are wrong, even if they have been right (third world to first world!) so far.