KiOwA
Gerald

Inscribed On Tombstone:
Born: New Year's Eve, 1983
Location: SkateTown
Occupation: Incorrigible Slacker
Real Occupation: Media Student

Herein lies a...
Die-hard romantic
Tireless advice-giver
Certified gun-nut
Lazy-ass whore
Loyalist to a fault
Parody-lover
Electronic Entertainment Enthusiast
Football Fanatic
Conspiracy-theorist Crackpot
Wordsmith
Unrealistic idealist
Self-righteous moralist
Born individualist
Former atheist
Penchant for the melodramatic
Sentimentalist

Quotable Quotes

"Soon the reason is gone, and all that is left is the feeling itself..."
- Anonymous

"The thrill is in the hunt."
- Myself

"Even the strongest have their moments of fatigue."
- Nietzsche

"Fortune favours the bold."
- Virgil

"It is but a shadow and a flicker that you love..."
- Aragorn

"Beneath this mask is an idea... and ideas are bulletproof."
- V

"I have dreamed a dream... but now that dream has gone from me."
- Morpheus

"God does not play dice."
- Einstein

"Einstein would turn over in his grave. Not only does God play dice, the dice are loaded."
- Academician Prokhor Zhakarov

"When you kill one, it is a tragedy. When you kill ten million, it is a statistic."
- Stalin

"In one dimension I find existence, in two I find life, but in three, I find freedom."
- Foreman Domai

"You see, people believe what the media tells them to believe. And I tell the media what to believe."
- Kane

"Optimists and pessimists die the same way. Optimists just live differently."
- Shimon Peres

"Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!"
- David G. Farragut

"You know you are in love, when you see the world in her eyes, and her eyes everywhere in the world."
- David Levesque

"Music... the language to stir the hearts of men."
- Shakespeare

"A man always finds it hard to accept he has lost a woman's love, no matter how badly he may have treated her."
- Sherlock Holmes

"He who attacks where his enemy does not know how to defend, will be victorious."
- Sun Tzu

"Without purpose, we would not exist."
- Agent Smith

"I know guys like you, you can do any terrifying thing you're ordered to do... but you have to do it running."
- Carl

"History has been one long series of conspiracies... the successful ones, we call governments."
- Stanton Dowd

"The empires of the future are the empires of the mind."
- Winston Churchill

"One thing is true of all governments... the most reliable records are tax records."
- Eric Finch

"When a guy sleeps around, he's a player. When a girl does, she's a slut."
- Sean

"A person is smart. People are dumb, stupid & panicky, and you know it."
- K.

Song 'O The Moment



Song: No Music
Artiste: Nobody

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Saturday, September 23, 2006

The final explosion of sound and colour was a dramatic conclusion to everything that had led me to this final, inevitable decision.

I could only hope that I had done the right thing.

Reborn into a world of twilight and shadows, my now-insubstantial form knew neither the earthly cares of a mortal, nor the calming balm of death of the newly-deceased.

Not even the unending solitude of immortality.

"Come." Death intoned. "There is something you have to witness."

Wordlessly, I followed.



Standing erect over a steaming pool of motlten sulphur, that great hooded cloak somehow seemed to beckon me closer. The air was filled not with the customary stench of fire and brimstone, but instead smelled clean and refreshing, almost as if someone had cleaned the place for rather too long.

If I could have summoned the scope for the emotion, I would have laughed at the irony of it.

"Look into the pool. See what you must."

Hesitatation. Then I looked.

The swirling eddies of liquid yellow continue to churn with intense ferocity for a few seconds, then abruptly, the surface settled to become as one with the atmosphere.

Blurred visions formed, mocking me with their lack of clarity for a few seconds before focusing into sharp relief. The images were startling not for their vividness, but for the series of events they depicted.

Her head on the shoulder of another - a pose that somehow seemed so familiar to me... but I could not say why.

Then her hand slipped into that of another's.

With a shattering of the darkness, as if someone had taken away the heavy blankets of indifference surrounding me, I knew the situation. I knew it intimately

The picture was entirely familiar now, but it was not me in the picture - instead some nameless male was usurping my place.

As I watched their hands clasp, I was struck by a sudden revelation. This was no act, no drama, no charade staged purely for my benefit. The look in her eyes, the tenderness of their interlocked fingers, even the posture of their bodies - it all bespoke of a trust, tenderness and affection that could not be inveigled or bargained or otherwise simulated.

"What is this?" I hissed.

No answer. Long seconds passed.

"It is what has already come to pass. You knew the full price of your actions; not only the sacrifice, but the lack of any recognition thereof."

In some way, I felt punctured.

A faint mocking sound emanated from the figure before me. "No, this is not some hell in which your worst nightmares are played over and over again to you, throughout all the time that is left in eternity."

"What you see here has been shown for a purpose. Look again, and tell me what you see."

Almost reluctantly, I looked again.

The image was clear, unchanged. Then, as I peered into the pool, the liquid churned afresh.

I was looking at an almost identical image - the only change was that the face of the guy in the picture this time was my own.

"That's it?" I was incredulous.

Death hardly need to affirm my statement. "But I don't understand," I continued.

"You expect so much from all this, do you not? You think the world owes you for your actions." Death's voice took on a harder edge. "You have built your vision of your fate to the extent where it is totally superfluous, totally unrealistic.

"You envision a world of dashing knights in armour and beautiful damsels in distress - a world that does not and never did exist. You deny its existence, you struggle to disavow it - but you cannot conceal your belief that you deserve more for your actions. Are you so confident that your belief in a lifetime of denial and self-sacrifice must be rewarded with such indulgence?"

I could only look stunned.

Death's voice lost some of its harshness. "I could have showed you this before you made your decision, but you would not have understood its true significance."

"Now do you know what you must do?"

I nodded dejectedly. "I have to let her go," I replied lamely.

"No."

"Wha-"

"You still love her, don't you?"

"Does it matter?" I said dispiritedly.

Death turned toward me, fixating me with a damning gaze. "If you wish to validate your claims, you must be prepared to defend them."

The journey does not end here.

As if reading my thoughts, Death interjected: "No, it has only begun."


Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
10:36 PM

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Monday, September 18, 2006

Some thoughts on Bangkok:

Officially Singapore has a higher population density per square km, but don't believe it - here the masses of people teem and swarm around you like a plague of locusts gone berserk, with street vendors selling almost every kind of finger food or drink imaginable, and the streets are alive with the colours of a myriad of wares for sale, with everything from knockoff Prada bags to bamboo musical instruments available for the discerning buyer.

You'd swear these street vendors simply grew out of the ground or something, the way they throng the streets of Bangkok.

Bangkok isn't all about Asian cuisine, plenty of places offering Western grub can be had for a reasonable sum, not counting the liberal sprinkling of fast food joints and the ubiquitous 7-11 - I counted 3, count 'em, 3 7-11s on the way to work.

Trying to traverse Bangkok's pavement traffic during rush hour is like trying to stir Jell-O with a toothpick - you can try, but you'd get much better results elsewhere. Which is where my chronic habit of suka-suka jaywalking comes in handy, as I don't mind dodging the assorted masses of taxis, tuk-tuks and motorcyles who make the cab drivers of New York look like instructors at a driving school.

On another note...





Barely seconds after the restart, a long punt by my 'keeper ends up ricocheting off a defender, cannonading into the path of an opposing forward. Gleefully accepting the present, the striker bears down on my goal as me and my entire bench leap to my feet in horror. My 'keeper rushes out, determined to smother the ball, but as he's about to dive toward the ball...

My defender scythes him down with a crunching two-footed tackle. The striker goes to ground immediately, rolling around in pain.

Usually I'd shout referee kayu right about now, but that tackle looked painful even from here. Then the referee runs over.

Oh no. Was he the last man?

The referee's reaching for a card as my man wipes his face with his shirt and spits on the ground, looking dejected.

Yellow. But it's a penalty!

NOW the other side is calling for the referee to be beheaded. My guy should walk as well, they say. Hey, whatever warms your cockles, man. But they're not the side that's 3-0 down and about to concede another goal.

The ball is routinely smashed into the top corner of the net, my 'keeper totally wrong-footed.

Now it really is 4-0, and the relief I'd just experienced a few minutes back turns to icy-cold fear once again. There's no way this goal can be disputed.

Somehow the past encounter with failure lessens the trauma this time around. I feel like I couldn't really care about the result any longer. My 'keeper places the ball on the ground, electing to play it safe this time and knock it directly to a defender.

As if that would really help. Fuck, it's 4-0 man.

Then something miraculous happens.

My guy takes it out toward the centre circle, the opposing midfielders backing off, giving him space. He takes one look up, and smashes a 60-yard pass that somehow eludes the entire midfield (mine and theirs), falling neatly for my striker who takes it in his stride elegantly - as if he's done this all night. Which he sure as hell hasn't been doing, but hey, who am I to complain?

Skipping over the challenge of one defender, my guy dummies to the left, and then the right to evade the other man, before drilling a stinging shot toward goal, the ball bouncing on the uneven surface as the 'keeper bends down to collect it...

And the ball skips out of his grip, falling neatly between his legs as it rolls into the back of the net.

My eyes widen.

Score! 4-1

The world has just taken a turn for the super-surreal. Makes Alice in Wonderland look like a picnic.

Back at square one. But as I contemplate the match, I realise one thing.

They are not invulnerable.

They can be beaten. Even if I have to break my teeth doing so.



Game on, bitches.



I'm looking out the window
Where we sat to watch the stars
There's a chill within the air
It makes my heart long for your touch
You may be miles away
But as I kneel to pray

I see the same side of the moon
That we'll be looking on when the world turns blue
And know that time and space
can't come between me and you
We share the same side of the moon
And though you'll never see all my tears shine through
I know I can't be that far from you
If we're both looking on the same side of the moon.

I picture you across the oceans
In your corner of the world
I pray the wind will blow my voice
And gently whisper in your ear
Your night may be my day
And though the seasons change

It's still the same side of the moon
That we'll be looking on when the world turns blue
And know that time and space
can't come between me and you
We share the same side of the moon
And though you'll never see all my tears shine through
I know I can't be that far from you
If we're both looking on the same side of the moon
I know I can't be that far from you
If we're both looking on the same side of the moon


- Corrinne May, Same Side Of The Moon


Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
3:31 PM

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Saturday, September 09, 2006

Wow. I still can't believe I'm here. It feels like a whole new world, a culture totally removed from that of home.

Bangkok feels like an amalgam of the new and the old - brand new office skyscrapers and glitzy billboards and neon signs share the cityscape with the dingy alleyways and the roadside stalls.

As I sit here in this Internet cafe, I feel a world away from the place I grew up in. For the first time in my life, I have no one to rely on, no familiar faces around. I feel so isolated, sometimes.

But I'm not complaining.

Catch ya later, dudes. Out.


Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
10:31 PM

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Tuesday, September 05, 2006

The Negotiator, Standoff 1



The door ominously opened as Chris Sabian climbed up the final flight of stairs, the seasoned negotiator staring at the balding middle-aged man in the doorway.

"You OK?" Chris offered.

"Do I look OK? I got a gun pointed to the back of my head," Rudy muttered matter-of-factly. "Nice fucking pants," he added.

"Hey shut up Mr Blackwell, get over here." Danny Roman dragged the reluctant hostage over, levelling his pistol at Chris over Rudy's head. "You working?"

"Sort of. I was negotiating a truce between my wife and daughter." Chris' eyes never left Danny's.

"That might prove to be easy by comparison."

"Wouldn't surprise me in the least," Chris replied lightly.

"So you shut off the heat already," Danny continued.

"You know how this works."

"Yeah, I do." Danny's reply was curt. "Next time you wanna bluff, make sure you charge your cell phone."

"Alright, you wanna tell me what I'm doing up here?"

"I just wanted to tell you face-to-face that I'm not crazy. I'm just doing this to prove my innocence."

"I believe you, Danny." Chris' eyes were roving around the office. "Anything I can do to help you get out-"

"Don't fucking patronize me, man!" Danny raised his voice. "I know you don't think I'm innocent, so don't tell 'I wanna do everything to help you to get outta here'. Don't talk to me like I'm some second-rate HT."

Chris' tone was conciliatory. "Alright, you're right. I'm sorry. My mistake."

"Yeah, you are sorry." A pause, and then Danny pushed Rudy towards the door. "Get outta here. Lock the door. Call me when you wanna talk."

"No Danny, Danny-" Rudy had just reached the door when Chris held up his hands. "I'm ready to talk."

Miffed, Rudy shrugged his jacket back over his shoulders as Danny dragged him back again. "You're right," Chris began. "I don't know if you're innocent of not. You could have done everything they said you've done. You could have killed that cop. I don't know, and I don't care."

"There are ways to prove your innocence, but this is hardly one of them." A nod to the room behind, "And now you've got hostages."

"So let me tell you this: You hurt one of them, you're gonna burn up whatever currency that's left to deal to me. They're all I care about. You leaving here walking is a distant second."

"Now do I make myself clear?"

"Good." Danny half-smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere."

"Good, now answer my question. What am I doing up here?"

Danny's words were intoned, methodical. "Before Nate was killed, he told me the men involved in the fraud are from my precinct. Guys I know." Chris nodded in response. "Guys I might call friends."

"And?" Chris prompted.

"And you're not." Danny's voice took on an ironic tone. "When your friends betray you, sometimes the only people you can trust are strangers."

Chris' eye caught a flutter of movement at the far end of the office. Danny turned around, eyes squinted to catch any sign of trouble. Then as Niebaum dived down, Danny's eyes widened.

They were coming in.


Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
2:22 PM

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Saturday, September 02, 2006

And so another eventful(?) 5 months or so comes to an end. Victory and defeat, mistakes made, glories basked in.

Been there, felt that.

Three years have just, well they've just gone past in a flash. It seems like only yesterday that I stumbled in, late, for the first lecture and didn't even know who my classmates were because I'd missed the orientation.

Now I don't even talk to some of my year one classmates anymore. It isn't really anybody's fault, it's just that things turn out this way sometimes, and there's nothing we can really do to change it.

The whole lot of us though, however many are left after the attrition of the past years, still composes one big, gigantic dysfunctional family. Sort of.

And now for all practical intents and purposes, we're about to go our separate ways.

What will I think about, when I look back on these 2 1/2 years of my life? Will I regret the indiscretions I've made, or instead focus on what I've done right? What will I take from this place, this course? The cheap food? The blasted treks up the bloody hill? The crazy work schedules? The camaderie (or at times, lack of it)?

So many things have happened, my previous life in JC feels like a monochrome soap opera in comparison.

When we finally leave the place we've called school, you know what? I'm gonna feel homeless. I never imagined getting attached to this place built decades ago, crumbling in places, but now that I have to go... I'm gonna really miss it.

Like a feather in the desert wind, I am being blown to wherever fate will carry me. And perhaps one day, this lonely wanderer will find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the stuff dreams of made of, and everything will be OK...

Too unlikely. Too many obstacles, the odds are against me. But the illusion is pleasing, and I find myself clinging to it.



The only thing worse than an unfulfiled dream is a punctured one.

- Anonymous


Runnin' away, you can't pretend...
8:53 PM

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