Friday, August 08, 2008

Another day, another boring period in the life of NS. When all my worries are over and done with, other questions suddenly surface. I'm now faced with a dilemma - should I go for the functional endoscopic sinus surgery to remove the piece of hollow bone high inside my right nostril that isn't supposed to be there?

According to the E.N.T. Specialist I'm seeing at NUH, he strongly recommends that I go for the surgery. According to him, if I don't go for the surgery, my sinus infection will keep recurring, because of the bone's obstruction of liquids from being drained from my nasal passages. And, it might cause the development of meningitis in the long run. Seeing photos of autopsies conducted on people who have died, and who had meningitis before death, are pretty sick, especially the weird colour of the brain.

However, the complications of the surgery are such that if any accident happens during the procedures, I might end up with a punctured right eye or right frontal lobe. Both of which are easily repaired, but with unknown side effects after recovery. I wish things were more simple, Hopefully, a miracle happens and that piece of bone disappears.

Kenny died at 8:40 pm

Sunday, July 27, 2008

It's been a year and 2 months since I enlisted for National Service. The road hasn't been long, but somehow, it feels as if I've been through a lot, changing from being the gung-ho boy in BMTC School 1 Falcon Coy, to the brooding thinker and a clerk in 21SA. I felt the ups and downs like no one I've known. From a stable relationship with the love of my life, to a sudden break-up, my recruit days were marred with the tears mixed in the rain during my outfield training and the silent blood tears dripping from a torn heart. I didn't really know how to handle it, everything seemed to go hand in hand to make me feel so down; the daily heavy rains, my knee and back injuries due to the SOC training and the insensitive comments by my fellow recruits, and the male members in my family, as well as my friends. "There are always other girls around! This weekend when you book out let's go and meet girls!" That said, being the immature brats that most guys are when faced with such problems, that is the only thing they know how to do - get into rebound relationships.

I could have said now that I nearly came out on top of it all, but months ago those dreams and words spoken by friends who knew my ex-girlfriend in poly threw me off when I was so close to the peak. I don't know how it could have been that those words they said could have affected me that much. Maybe I wasn't prepared to accept the present and embrace a new future as I thought I was. The weakness I had within left me feeling helpless, and then the injuries I had that I exacerbated during BMT all came back in a flash. The turmoil within isn't that big of a joke, as assumed by my friends. I wonder why it is that people always think that I'm such a tough guy who's able to be hit here and there and still be able to be standing after the storm. I'm just as fragile as everyone else. I can't leave my feelings and emotions on a shelf, I can't detach myself from what happened. I want these to end. I want to start anew. There's no one I find close enough to stand by my side to hold me up.

And till today, I still miss her. I miss the days we spent together. I know that those days will never return to me in reality, and that all I can do now is to hold on to these memories that I have, and hope for a better future. The scar that's on my heart will never go away, but the pain might just go away one day.

Kenny died at 8:43 pm

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

It is night, and one of many past and yet to come. For weeks I've been standing on top of the mountain of my life, looking for a new beginning, and yet again my heart has led me into another illusion, one that might shatter my life. Sleepless at night, I toss and turn, but my head finds nothing to lie on, my mind finds no rest. My heart, it carries on beating strong and loud, like a war drum at the beginning of conflict, but as time carries on, it slowly diminishes and fades.

To choose not to think, understand nor comprehend, she runs away to hide. The echoes of my beating heart are carried to her ear, but not acknowledged. My optimism starts to wane, and the fruits of realism start to grow. When now will they ripen, and widen the chasm that has started to separate our hearts and soul.

I endeavoured to accept and understand her, yet she is unwilling to comply. The key to locking the door on my past she could have been, but now all that remains is for the memories to fade, as the darkness awaits, and the apologies that were given, are nothing but useless excuses.

Kenny died at 3:40 am

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Came home from camp today feeling so sick. Reached home around 12.30am. Sigh. Sometimes work just can't get done on time. This from the army, a so-called "well-oiled machine". Well-oiled with alot of bull shit and office politics. Different units and departments just can't work well with one another. Sigh.

Still, I have to receive BS from my bunk-mates as well. Monday night wasn't feeling well. My boss was sick and kept coughing around me. Went to bunk around 9pm. Showered, took my sleeping pills, watched a little TV and fell asleep around 11.15pm. Bunk-mates came back at 11.57pm, according to my watch. Asses woke me up with their banging of the bunk door, switching on and off of the lights, and loud talking. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I popped another pill and went out for a smoke to let the pills take effect. Went back to bunk after that, lights were off, tried to sleep but that ass Peijie started talking loudly with his girlfriend. It's not my fault I'm a light sleeper, even with the sleeping pills inside me.

Finally I fell asleep. But guess what? THE ENTIRE FUCKING BUNK WOKE UP AT 3-FUCKING AM TO WATCH A SOCCER MATCH ON TV WITH THE VOLUME ON HIGH! And my bed is just beside the FUCKING TV. So I did what I had to do after another 30 mins of tossing and turning in bed - I popped another pill. It took me another 30 mins to fall asleep. Because of the ruckus they made, I couldn't even sleep well. Next day Jerome had to wake me up at 7.15am by kicking my bed. The asshole. It's not my fault he's a fucking heavy sleeper and he can sleep through all that noise. All those bastards showed me attitude problems on Tuesday morning because I went down late. I was still so woozy after the extra pills I had to pop. Wanted to complain to my boss about their behavior but, it's the first time they did that, so I'm going to be understanding.

Bottom line? You want to watch soccer, go ahead. Just don't fucking IRRITATE THE FUCK OUT OF THOSE WHO ARE ILL, LIGHT SLEEPERS, AND TRYING TO SLEEP.

Kenny died at 3:10 am

Saturday, June 07, 2008

From the start, I've had no doubts about my Chinese roots. But today, I've been confounded by the words of some Filipino Chicks at a pub. "You look Filipino! You're nice. That's why I like you", followed by the affimation of her friends. Gah. Now I'm Filipino. Thanks a bunch.

Years back when I was 15 it was an incident with a couple of Japanese tourists, a husband-wife duo, who stopped me along Orchard Road, and started speaking to me in Japanese. Gee. They kept at it for a few minutes, albeit with me gesturing with my hands that I didn't understand the hell they were saying. Giving up, I said, "Sorry, I'm not Japanese." The man said, "Solly, yoo look-a Japanese-a. Solly. Carn you direck us to Istana?" See? It wasn't so hard to speak in the Universal Tongue?

During the Korean Drama craze, which is still going around, I've had my aunts and cousins remarking how fair my complexion was, and their friends saying that I looked Korean, and whether I had Korean blood in me. Idiots, all of them.

Recently, after I enlisted for National Service (NS), people kept speaking to me in Malay or English. I found it rather odd, so I tried speaking in Mandarin to one cabbie. The bugger got a shock. The buffoon thought that I was Eurasian! Must have been the deep tan, but my facial features and name-frigging-tag on my uniform should have been obvious to them. One Malay neighbour even thought that I just moved into my block and struck up a conversation in Malay. Idiot. I didn't even change that much!

And now to top it off, some Filipino chicks think I'm Filipino. Thanks for confirming the suspicions that I've had of why the Filipino maids of my relatives and neighbours, and Filipino ex-colleagues of mine from the American Club keep glancing/winking at me, and generally trying to flirt with me.

I'm a frigging Mongoloid for crying out loud! I've slanted eyes and yellow skin! Only my nose and chin don't really look like a Chinese, according to ex-girlfriends of mine, although how they all reach that conclusion is a mystery to me. The only thing I want people to think is that I'm an American-born chinese. At least then I won't have to converse in Mandarin, which I suck at.

On another note, I really hate those middle-class Caucasian Males even more. Lustful bastards who just come to Singapore to "have a good time" with Asian girls. They just reinforce the stereotype that Caucasian Males are just horny bastards who "dig" Asian girls because they're easy, which just irks me as much. How can Asian girls be so gullible as to think that rich Caucasian men would want to have a good time with them, by which I mean one-night-stands or with sexual encounters, and still want to bring them home to be their wives. I can't believe how stupid those girls are. A real embarassment to Asian girls who loath such behavior, but are harassed by Caucasians and Asians alike because of these black sheep. Those idiots think that just because it's a Caucasian guy who's saying it, it means they're loaded with cash.

Contrary to that belief, those horny Caucasian men are probably asset poor asses who come here to have a good time because it's cheap and safe here, then just go home to brag about it to their friends. I've met alot of rich Caucasian men while working in the American Club, and talking to them, they hate the guts of these horny bastards, as they know they're making the good ones look bad. How I hate such people. How I hate them. They should all burn. In Hell.

Kenny died at 4:32 am

Sunday, June 01, 2008

It's been a 5 crappy weeks for me. To those who say that a clerk's job is simple, I'd like to say "FUCK YOU". Really. And to those who think that I'm skiving in the army because I'm seeing a psychiatrist for treatment, I just want to tell you that if you don't know what's going on in my life now, just shut the fuck up. I've enough of you retarded fuck-ups who assume that you know everything that's going on in my life.

The dreams are becoming more and more surreal each night that goes by. I wake up before each dream completes itself. And when I wake up, I find myself perspiring, even when it's cold. Often, I find myself in weird positions, like my leg bent under my body or my upper body leaning over the side of the bed, nearly touching the floor. I thought the sleeping pills would give me a good and restful sleep, but that's not the case; even with the pills in my system, I still experience the same situations. It's not only when I'm in camp, even when I'm home I go through the same experiences.

Even while awake now, it seems like something is around. Yesterday afternoon I heard someone calling me while I was home alone. The main door and windows in the apartment were all closed, yet I distinctively heard a woman's voice calling my name. And while I was taking a shit last night, I heard someone pottering around in my kitchen. The sounds of a cupboard door opening and closing, and of some plastic containers being opened and closed. Is it not enough that the filipino maids in my estate find me attractive, but that I must go through this shit as well?

On another thought, I think it's time I gave up on a useless pursuit. It's no use waiting for her to accept me, it's useless for me to wait. I'm not the one she wants. Gah. So emo. Fuck it. Really. If only I could be the emotionless bastard that I once was, who didn't give a shit about the feelings of others, who didn't give a shit what position he or she held in life. I think my life could be more satisfying then. I wonder when it was that I started giving a shit about what other would think. I think then I wouldn't be suffering now.

But the me now would rather suffer than let others suffer. Gah. What a fucking loser I am. FUCK.

Kenny died at 1:26 am

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Tonight, I went fishing. Unlike most nights I spend fishing alone at Lower Pierce Reservoir when I'm moody, there were people who kept me company tonight, friends and strangers they were. First off were 2 Ah Bengs who came over to the "jetty" and talked with me, then before they left, Jianmin and his friend showed up. Shortly after they left, an Indian fellow called Joe showed up to keep me company. Weird and jumpy conversation was the mainstay of the night, but I was glad for it; I don't know what I might have done if I was alone.

Since a couple of weeks back, I've been having vivid dreams of Gu Yu. It's weird that I keep dreaming of her, and even in the day, when I'm thinking of stuff, she pops into my mind spontaneously. I don't know whether it's my subconscious reliving those moments I've spent with her, or a weird "psycho-kinetic" connection with her telling me something, but I know I just want to get over her. I don't want to think of her. I'm so scared that I'll go into a relapse, a time
past that I don't ever want to go through again.

Those months past when I was suffering from major depression was the worst period of my life. A break-up with Gu Yu, my posting to 41SAR, my friends ragging me about Gu Yu being a bitch fuelled my depressive mood. For want of a macho image, I hid behind a facade of "I'm only feigning depression to get out of 41SAR", I knew that I was slipping further and further into an abyss, and the further I fell, the harder it was to get out. It didn't help at all that often when the thought of Gu Yu popped into my head, Jay Chou's Coral Sea would just myteriously play a split second later. Even till now, it's still the case. The significance was that at that point in time near to the end of our relationship, Coral Sea was her favourite song by Jay Chou.

Right now, before I go back to scheduling a session with my psychiatrist, I think I need to inform my boss about what's going on, because as my superior, she needs to "be kept in the loop". I don't know how she'd react, because she doesn't know about that part about why I was depressed for that period of time. Most people would think it's silly to get depressed over such matters. I know that too, I'm aware that I shouldn't be this way, but I don't know how to address the problem. I work late, I push myself with exercise sessions to tire myself out, but nothing's working. I don't want to be this way, I don't want things this way and I don't want my life to continue forever in this direction.

The stressful part is that I've also been thinking about Gu Yu as if I'm still in a relationship with her. I know it's over, but I don't know, and I wonder why I'm suddenly thinking this way after so many months without seeing her. In my heart, she has died, and I want it to remain that way. I was never this stressed after my Grandma passed away in February this year, because I know that my Grandma would look after, and watch over me even if she's in the afterlife, that she's still around taking care of me. But for my past with Gu Yu, even though I've relinquished hold over those memories, they still come back. No matter how deep I bury them, burn them or delete them from my soul, still they come back without my wanting them.

My life. My dreams. My future. It's affecting my everthing. I don't know what's going on with regards to her existance now. But if there are things that are meant to be, please tell me, don't torment me, just rest in peace and leave me be.

Kenny died at 5:04 am

About me

Name
Ben Ho
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Birthday
31 January
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School
Ngee Ann Poly
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