Missed opportunity....solitude once more...:(

Today, I went for a game of badminton with two ex-school players about to enter university, one better than the other. The loser would withdraw, the winner stayed to duel it out with the newcomer.

Playing under the new system, we settled for 11 points each set.

I was terribly rusty at the outset, losing 7-11, a deceptive scoreline that hid how easy I lost the match, garnering points from mistakes rather than killing the shots.

It went pretty much the same when Lawrence replaced me, as he lost 6-11 to Yin Kang.

In the end, the latter stayed for almost 10 matches, with the scoreline more or less between 11-4 to 11-9.

Finally, as he tired, I managed to beat him 11-7, with some aggressive play to boot.

Before that, the closest I came to beating him came in an 11-9 scoreline, and Lawrence came to within 2 points as well, 10-12.

Lawrence took over, and I trashed him 11-4 in a one-sided match. Yin Kang came back in and took the next match 11-7 again.

But as he struggled a little at the right knee, Lawrence managed to beat him 11-6. I came in and beat Lawrence again, by 11-7.


At that moment, Yin Kang had to withdraw because of his right knee. When Lawrence's siblings came to take over, I retired to the bathroom to clean up and change clothes.

I stripped completely and soaped myself, and then washed myself all over using the water in the sink. During my washing, a guy in a grey sleveless T-shirt sporting quite defined, lean muscles entered and eyed me inscrutably.

I felt a little embarrased to be stark naked in front of a stranger, but proceeded to wash myself.

When I was dressed I went out to the badminton courts again and spotted the guy sitting on the grandstand, clearly interested in me. I was slightly interested as well, not having had sex for over half a year.

But I glanced down at the badminton court where my friends were playing and Lawrence looked up at me at that moment. I knew that my hands were tied. Darn!

Anyway, it is night as I'm typing this, after a rather loaded gym session, and three burgers, onion rings and some fries have entered my tummy.


I'm still alone, still ruing my missed opportunity to experience some intimacy, albeit of the one-off variety.

Didn't their mothers ever teach them...?

What is it about the stare from an ugly person that offends?

The ugliness, perhaps.

Maybe the way it's so probing that it might as well be a warty hand that caresses your face.

Didn't their mothers have the decency to teach them that it is rude to stare?
People have been beaten up for staring at gangsters.

For me, a second-long stare feels like a leer from a witch-bith.

Am I so out-of-this-world good-looking that they can't keep their eyes off of me, like a delicate tiramisu tempts the greed of female gluttony?


I know that I face the same type of carnal temptations, but I'm discreet enough to only glance very flightily,partly so that I do not cause offence to the unwitting recipient of my invisible eye rays.


Admittedly, I'd easily vie for top prize in rude behaviour when I couldn't care less, and more so when I feel angered.

But I still despise being stared at.

Kids and bi***es from hell...

Have you noticed that people age and uglify very quickly as they become parents?

I have this theory that humans(and animals) were created to allow our offspring to sap our life force gradually but inexorably from our bodies.

Yet the relentless urge to have children in most people remains.

For myself, the desire to have a child(a boy especially) is latent, but not overwhelming.

I doubt I have the patience(taking after my mother) to bring up kids properly.

Right now, I have problems even maintaining friendships because my sense of purpose and existence has not fully recovered from the battering it received for most of the year so far.

What is driving me crazy now is that people find patently undesirable at best, and utterly repulsive at worst, are making unwanted advances at me.

I bear this with fortitude, for now

Even family can disappoint...

My brother and his wife came to S'pore two days ago and called me the night before to tell me that they were arriving by bus the next morning.We arranged to meet at 6:30pm (yesterday) for dinner.

To cut a long tale short, last night,I was quite disappointed that he did not invite me to go out to Newton Circus with his ex-classmate.

I guess it bothered me that he didn't even bother to ask his friend if he'd mind me coming along.

And this morning, I rushed to their hotel in a taxi(after a night of poor-quality slumber) to have breakfast. After the meal, I suggested that we meet by hinting that my tuiton class ended at 3pm. He then said to the effect that they'd be with friends in the afternoon and that we would meet again in March for my younger brother's wedding.

I felt(I'm not sure if this is an extreme reaction) like a discarded toothbrush, and my hesitation was quite apparent to myself.Anyway, I walked angrily away to Han's in the National Library Building, where I am typing this now, indignant at the outstart, but a residue of sadness hiding behind it. Sadness that my own family member would put me above his friends.

Maybe because I'm just a bloody teacher, earning very little compared to him and his friends.

And here I was, preparing to make time to accompany him(and have some company myself) to make his short stay as meaningful as I possibly can.

I have decided instead to not bother to keep in touch until whenever.

Not that I think they mind.

One day, I will be more successful than they ever will be.

Cherish yourself!

My prescription for curing depressive tendencies.

Think of every moment when some seemingly insignificant kindness made you beam from the insides of your soul.

When the world seemed to be a wonderful place because of the joy your existence emanated.

When another seemed to love you for no special reason other than that you were there.

When an optimistic smile came naturally, without being forced out like an unwilling donkey from it's pen.

Consolidation and recovery from the passage of a soul.

I have returned from the wake and subsequent cremation of the oldest surviving member of my family. Funny how decades seem to separate the deaths of three of my grandparents: my paternal granny passed on in 1996, my maternal grandpa in 1986.

This was the first time I had witnessed a cremation: it was distressing enough to cause almost all my mother's brothers and sisters and in-laws to break down.


On the other hand, I only had a little redness in the eyes, maybe more due to fatigue from having stayed up all night during the wake( with the exception of about an hour of shut-eye). I had no urge to break down, even though I did still feel a tremendous sense of loss.

Doing my part, I put my arm around my favourite auntie and said:"She's gone to heaven. Don't worry".

Sounds a bit trite? I couldn't think of anything else to say!


Can't make up my mind if the deceased was more the glue holding our family together or rather the anvil that starting the estrangements.

There's so much one should learn from the passing of a family member. I guess I just haven't learnt the lessons yet: how life is eminently precious,how people can change imperceptiply from year to year, but dramatically over a decade or two, how the world only forgives on its own terms.


If I had someone who cared about me again( as I had until the tail end of 2004),I would never give him up. I would not pass a single week without at least mentioning once that I love him. I would stroke his hair gently and hug him closely every time we had the opportunity to meet up.


Who is he? I haven't the slightest idea, but this is my sacred, solemn promise.