FLASHion trends___Sunday, January 27, 2008
A few years back, it was common to see youths wearing baggy jeans with the sharp tip of a bright orange comb sticking out of the back pocket. "No Fear" T-shirts were immensely popular and black Converse slippers ruled the street. Almost everyone have such clothes in their wardrobe, especially beng-lian (a word i specially invented to categorize them) and pasar aunties.
Then, there was the "center parking"-something that almost every boy attempted to do (with varying success). Just not too long ago, wrist bands, purchased off the shelves of 77th street and even NIKE outlets, were also worn frequently.
However, such outfit/accessory is rarely seen nowadays. Wearing that would be akin to committing a serious fashion crime, and therefore liable to /spit.
From above, it does not take a genius to realize that fashion trends come and go, like a flash of light. One moment, it is bright and prominent and in the next moment, darkness takes over, and hardly anyone remembers its existence.
Thus, it is utterly meaningless to become a blind devotee of the newest fashion trends, because you will always be one step too LATE. By the time you fit into your "desired" fashion trend, the craze has almost certainly blown over and are only propagated by wols sloof such as yourself.
In order to stay in that glamorous fashion limelight, you will have to kick start your own fashion trend. Who knows? Maybe the next "in" thing will be wearing your shirts inside out. (which I am seriously tempted to try.)
all in a day's work___Thursday, January 24, 2008
You look left. Your colleague looks serious, as he attempts to complete his task on time. The "thumping" of keys on the keyboard produces a soothing melody. You close your eyes gently, taking a moment to relax and appreciate your existence.
Then, you look right. Another colleague sits on an armchair, opposite to the row of cupboards. He fumbles through the pages of a thick booklet of standing orders, as if looking for the words of God. You say a prayer for him, hoping that it will help his search. Moments later, your prayer is answered and he grins in triumph. You done a great job.
After some moments of satisfaction, you start to feel a little apologetic and useless- since you do not have any access to computers, you cannot help your colleagues with their work. However, guilt slowly melts away into (sadistic) pleasure, as you watch them toil laboriously with their work, while you sit comfortably on the armchair.
Your attention turns to the pile of mess located at the edge of your desk. You dig out a notepad from the mess. It reads, "Productivity is the key to a better [organization]". Fishing out a pencil from the box of stationery, you start to sketch your personal desk. A 15-inch HP monitor sits directly in front of you. There is also a keyboard, CPU, and your plastic water bottle. On your desk, there is a thick folder containing confidential documents. You scrutinize the sketch carefully, making sure that all details are properly included. Then, you continue sketching, trying in vain to create a decent art piece.
After a while, you start to lose interest. The sketch turns out hideous and you quickly hide it in your bag. Everyone covers up their dirty secrets, including you. Glancing upwards, you notice some colored pins on the wall. You start arranging them, and experimenting with the different possible permutations. You finally settle on a "V" shape, but this combination results in a pin being isolated. Suddenly, you feel a tinge of sadness for the poor, lonely pin. However this is just part and parcel of life where not everyone can fit into the real world.
You glance at your watch. The time is 1035. You pick up the newspaper from the table, and walk out of office to take a deserved break. There is news of a potential outbreak of chikungunya. You are concerned about your friends, who are currently exercising under the sun and continuously exposed to threats from Aedes mosquitoes. You count your blessings as you work in an air-conditioned building.
There are also disturbing reports of Arsenal's defeat. Journalists emphasized on the flattering scoreline, and praised the overall efforts of the winning team. They failed to realize it was perfectly normal for young boys to lose to first team regulars. Sometimes, age and experience are still most important, while skills and talents are just secondary. It gets a little ironic, amidst talks of global competition for talents.
There is a vibration in your left pocket. This is strange because you know that the vibrating function of your phone is not working. You start to guess if its from her, but it is a message from your old friend. You ponder over what to send, deliberately choosing your words carefully. Feeling bored, you also send out a few sms to your close friends, describing your situation. Most of them entertains you while others don't. You take it as a sign that they are busy with work, and make a mental note not to disturb them in the future. You take consolation that there are still friends, which you can count on, to brighten your life.
You overhear an interesting conversation. Your superiors will be attending a meeting soon and you sigh in relief. It has been an extremely challenging task to stare at the thick booklet of instructions for the past hours but the torture will soon be over. Soon enough, your superiors head off for their meeting. Everyone in the room begins to relax, and some even begin to play music using their computers. One of your colleagues leaves to attend a Medical check-up. You count your lucky stars because he left his computer unattended.
You access the online forums. Time passes quickly as you browse through entries of fashion disasters, soccer discussions, animes and mangas, as well as relationship problems. You have difficulty in understanding them because of the incoherent sentences, but it is nonetheless interesting to read about life experiences. Later, you come across a forum user discussing the benefits of keeping a personal diary during National Service. That prompted you to remember that you have a blog, and it is time for an update. Taking out a pencil, you begin to scribble a draft: "You look left. Your colleague looks serious..."
Jonathan Livingston Seagull__Friday, January 11, 2008
While searching for a good read at Borders, I stumbled upon an eye-catching book titled as "Jonathan Livingston Seagull". It had a nice dark blue background, with an impressive tag of " The Glorious #1 Bestseller", and I immediately found myself mysteriously attracted to it. Malcolm Gladwell would attribute this attraction as the effects of "30 second first impression" and it could hardly be more true. I was desperate to rediscover the joy of reading again, and the bestseller seemed to be a safe bet to satisfy my desire. It was also rather appropriate (because I only had a little time to spare) since the story was rather short, and it had beautiful pictures to supplement the plot.
It turned out to be a pleasant and inspiring story. It was not just about an ordinary seagull discovering the true meaning of his life, but also involved common themes that we face every day. Limitations, self-doubts, failures, and other life lessons made this book establish an excellent relationship with its readers. The beauty of the book lies in the fact that these life lessons cannot be found directly from the story, but only through much of our own thinking. When we start to read beneath the surface, we would gradually appreciate its beauty, and by then, our lips would certainly be forming a smile. Which was precisely what I did then.
If you prefer a pro review, try
this
past/present/future__Saturday, January 05, 2008
Come Wednesday, I would be visiting Hwa Chong Institution again to meet my grand juniors.
This trip would be filled with much regret because it would once again remind me of the mistakes I made. My playfulness, lack of discipline stands out among others, as I nervously await my judgment day (release of A-level results). Looking back, there were so much stuff that I wanted to complete, but failed and this really made me feel lousy.
Yet, regret would not be the sole emotion that I would be carrying back.
Fond memories of the past would be swarming back as well-late night dinners at curry wok, class bench stoning, and of course, the magical moments at street soccer court. But it wouldn't matter 5 years down the road. Without future, the past wouldn't be important anymore.
