I think' |
21 October 2008
|
Look up There!
How ironic.
I'm bored.
this has nothing to do with Philippines.
ok, I dont know how to explain it.
I see facebook, and people commenting, and msn nicks and everywhere where people know other people will see. Maybe blogs, maybe I've been guilty, but I dont think so.
I see intelligent comments, I see philosophical comments, I see perceptive nicknames, I see witty (never quirky) comments.
and I get mad.
(not that jialat hor)
Morons. Foolish Morons.
Why do I say that?
I see people laughing along and laughing and laughing.
All the comments, of the youth and carefree.
My my, why do I criticise them.
After all, there are so many youths reading my blog, in fact its ONLY them.
Im bored of intelligent people, there are so many in my family. and nobody has done anything intelligent that I haven't seen or done before.
How arrogant, hah.
I spit in your face. Thats what I think of doing, and many other violent things which I am actually quite alarmed, but I'm a Christian
now now thats not nice is it?
I must be confused.
I miss Hongwei, Sherman.
I'm so bloody angry over a few comments.
Too much educational television verbalizing these days, I like some of them actually.
but then I feel like harming them,
well thats scary.
your reactions to this are screaming to me.
sorry .
hehe
How ironic.
I'm bored.
this has nothing to do with Philippines.
ok, I dont know how to explain it.
I see facebook, and people commenting, and msn nicks and everywhere where people know other people will see. Maybe blogs, maybe I've been guilty, but I dont think so.
I see intelligent comments, I see philosophical comments, I see perceptive nicknames, I see witty (never quirky) comments.
and I get mad.
(not that jialat hor)
Morons. Foolish Morons.
Why do I say that?
I see people laughing along and laughing and laughing.
All the comments, of the youth and carefree.
My my, why do I criticise them.
After all, there are so many youths reading my blog, in fact its ONLY them.
Im bored of intelligent people, there are so many in my family. and nobody has done anything intelligent that I haven't seen or done before.
How arrogant, hah.
I spit in your face. Thats what I think of doing, and many other violent things which I am actually quite alarmed, but I'm a Christian
now now thats not nice is it?
I must be confused.
I miss Hongwei, Sherman.
I'm so bloody angry over a few comments.
Too much educational television verbalizing these days, I like some of them actually.
but then I feel like harming them,
well thats scary.
your reactions to this are screaming to me.
sorry .
hehe
~R.Ho, 8:47 PM |
here i AM |
19 October 2008
|
HERE in Philippines
I, Reuben Ho,
am a Praticumer Trainee from Singapore with SUPERB skills in every department,
am Reverand Victor Ho's Son
am the Christian who has to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth.
NOW,
how can Reuben Ho, thats right, the one over there,
can DO ANYTHING WRONG?
Can he?
no, of course not.
I, Reuben Ho,
am a Praticumer Trainee from Singapore with SUPERB skills in every department,
am Reverand Victor Ho's Son
am the Christian who has to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth.
NOW,
how can Reuben Ho, thats right, the one over there,
can DO ANYTHING WRONG?
Can he?
no, of course not.
~R.Ho, 11:13 PM |
~R.Ho, 11:13 PM |
:) |
11 October 2008
|
My Inay or Mum over here.My neighbourhood as well and my Tatay or My dad or my contact whose Assistant Training manager of Shangri-la.
Here is a bit of Shangri-la yeah.
The beaches, general place.
Took first 3 during beach clean up I went
and the other 2 during bijoux Cebu, a kinda trade festival, shopping thing.
~R.Ho, 6:49 PM |
08 October 2008
|
Just a bit of my house,
Hall
Hall
Toilet
Washing area
Washing area.
homesweethome
see how valuable my shower curtain is?
~R.Ho, 10:27 PM |
After getting used to everything here,
I begin to miss my grandfather.
He was one always upright and strong.
Almost my height, he was someone I looked up to.
To quote Eug, my role model and someone I wanted to connect to.
I was the closest to him among my brothers, I asked him questions, he was wise.
He was a doctor, a cook, a magician and a friend to me.
I learnt teochew to be able to speak to him.
I cant really verbalize my thoughts right now, but the time he hugged me in Beijing and the strength he showed climbing the great wall to its highest point; that memory, always.
I never showed any emotion at all, I was wondering why it took so long.
There was only twice.
There first while I held my grandmother and we walked behind that white van. She was sniffling, and so was I. She was soft and light, He was big and strong. He showed that child in me the Man I should look up to.
The second was during the cremation as I stood around my cousins.
There was sad music playing and I knew that was the part people get their worst out. (sorry I cant really type my usual style)
and I saw his picture on the reflection on the window, wearing his signature Shanghai cap.
And I remembered everything, and they way we used to go to his shop to help out to sell papayas or durians or vegetables. and the way he came out of the room while we stayed over barely a month before his passing and looked at us incredulously because we were playing music and eating codfish my the handful or the way he talked to me on when to get a girlfriend when I felt we really connected or when he held my hand and told me about the nervous points, or when he came every Sunday just to see us and looked at me while I was playing, or when he showed me the thumbs up in the hospital bed and held my hand, I missed what he wanted to say, I missed his last words, cos the nurse asked us to leave.
I felt so bad when I said goodbye instead of we'll be back, it was indeed goodbye, perhaps he thought I was leaving. and calling my grandmother just before I left for the Philippines and not hearing his voice.
His stride, long and purposeful, a smile on his face, his posture upright, his shoes a size with mine, his voice and intellect sharp and clear. His intellect was wise, he was that kindly old man with that sharp wit most hope to imitate and the clownish expression when the occasion called.
to me he was my grandfather, I never expected him to go, I wanted him to see my children and call them by name, I wanted him to see me enter the army and show him that I was indeed grown up, I wanted him to see off to the Philippines and see me when I came back.
I do not regret my time with him,
I knew he was dying 3 years ago, it just never occurred that we could succumb to a mere thing like that.
I once thought before his passing that I shouldnt be too close to him, so I wouldnt feel anything when he's gone.
I dismissed all of that, I saw the happiness and even with no long-term benefits, Im eternally grateful to have such a grandfather and to know someone with so much wisdom.
The funeral, how can anyone not see what my grandfather was?
The coffin was small, I found it odd, I expected a huge coffin, the makeup made him look weak, I hated that, his hands looked deflated, even after the cremation they crushed his bones, which i found impossible. How can one crush the bones of someone so mighty and wise?
I expected more respect.
Logic, gets clouded, upon death.
How can one so wise and mighty possibly succumb to death?
Thats impossible, but the thing scariest is that when he was lying there, I could imagine my father.
I begin to miss my grandfather.
He was one always upright and strong.
Almost my height, he was someone I looked up to.
To quote Eug, my role model and someone I wanted to connect to.
I was the closest to him among my brothers, I asked him questions, he was wise.
He was a doctor, a cook, a magician and a friend to me.
I learnt teochew to be able to speak to him.
I cant really verbalize my thoughts right now, but the time he hugged me in Beijing and the strength he showed climbing the great wall to its highest point; that memory, always.
I never showed any emotion at all, I was wondering why it took so long.
There was only twice.
There first while I held my grandmother and we walked behind that white van. She was sniffling, and so was I. She was soft and light, He was big and strong. He showed that child in me the Man I should look up to.
The second was during the cremation as I stood around my cousins.
There was sad music playing and I knew that was the part people get their worst out. (sorry I cant really type my usual style)
and I saw his picture on the reflection on the window, wearing his signature Shanghai cap.
And I remembered everything, and they way we used to go to his shop to help out to sell papayas or durians or vegetables. and the way he came out of the room while we stayed over barely a month before his passing and looked at us incredulously because we were playing music and eating codfish my the handful or the way he talked to me on when to get a girlfriend when I felt we really connected or when he held my hand and told me about the nervous points, or when he came every Sunday just to see us and looked at me while I was playing, or when he showed me the thumbs up in the hospital bed and held my hand, I missed what he wanted to say, I missed his last words, cos the nurse asked us to leave.
I felt so bad when I said goodbye instead of we'll be back, it was indeed goodbye, perhaps he thought I was leaving. and calling my grandmother just before I left for the Philippines and not hearing his voice.
His stride, long and purposeful, a smile on his face, his posture upright, his shoes a size with mine, his voice and intellect sharp and clear. His intellect was wise, he was that kindly old man with that sharp wit most hope to imitate and the clownish expression when the occasion called.
to me he was my grandfather, I never expected him to go, I wanted him to see my children and call them by name, I wanted him to see me enter the army and show him that I was indeed grown up, I wanted him to see off to the Philippines and see me when I came back.
I do not regret my time with him,
I knew he was dying 3 years ago, it just never occurred that we could succumb to a mere thing like that.
I once thought before his passing that I shouldnt be too close to him, so I wouldnt feel anything when he's gone.
I dismissed all of that, I saw the happiness and even with no long-term benefits, Im eternally grateful to have such a grandfather and to know someone with so much wisdom.
The funeral, how can anyone not see what my grandfather was?
The coffin was small, I found it odd, I expected a huge coffin, the makeup made him look weak, I hated that, his hands looked deflated, even after the cremation they crushed his bones, which i found impossible. How can one crush the bones of someone so mighty and wise?
I expected more respect.
Logic, gets clouded, upon death.
How can one so wise and mighty possibly succumb to death?
Thats impossible, but the thing scariest is that when he was lying there, I could imagine my father.
~R.Ho, 10:10 PM |
"yi lu seng fong hor"
"ok ah gong, zai jian hor"
Bye
"ok ah gong, zai jian hor"
Bye
~R.Ho, 10:08 PM |
lol |
04 October 2008
|
hongwei sherman
eh walao
here not bad sia
work here quite fun but damn long like 12 hours a day one.
weekends also quite busy
havent had a day where i wake up after 8 o'clock one
so quite busy ar
but got learn scuba now ar, and hopefully parasailing lol
then i think going out with colleagues soon to another island stay overnight
lol i got offered beer, prostitutes, gambling, clubbing here already.
actually not all bad one la,
life i guess
umm
quite used to here already,
think about 7 more weeks only waha
k bb cya soon
:)
eh walao
here not bad sia
work here quite fun but damn long like 12 hours a day one.
weekends also quite busy
havent had a day where i wake up after 8 o'clock one
so quite busy ar
but got learn scuba now ar, and hopefully parasailing lol
then i think going out with colleagues soon to another island stay overnight
lol i got offered beer, prostitutes, gambling, clubbing here already.
actually not all bad one la,
life i guess
umm
quite used to here already,
think about 7 more weeks only waha
k bb cya soon
:)
~R.Ho, 12:34 AM |
Good evening.
No, wait, its morning now here.
Well, you would know, you're in Singapore.
And whether you're a loyal reader, or someone who found this by mistake, or even someone who knows me and thinks my blog paints clear pictures of me in your head, or someone who dont know me and am trying to.
I welcome you.
You read this because you care,
you care because you have values,
you're curious
and somewhat inquisitive.
No problem, read on my friend.
Was all that Reuben's thoughts?
Well, it had to be, it was written by him.
Hence, as one normally concludes, is his thoughts.
Does the writer himself counter that?
No he doesn't, which he himself is unsure why.
Yet at times he is in perfect state of mind, that comes at a price, he questions the possibility of such a state.
Logic.
Simple Logic, where everything adds up and no human can deviate so much he is out of the norm.
Am I talking about myself?
Well, ideally yes, but no.
So,
I am a 19 year old boy. or man. whatever you'd prefer.
19 years of age.
quite young ar.
so...
what next?
I just read my own blog posts and I get this weird feeling that someone else is writing them.
For my feelings vary.
Ahh but there are times where my writing style changes, where it seems my heart is open and pouring its thoughts.
Yes and no really, yes its from me.
No cause I tend to fabricate.
Why do I justify myself?
Have I an enemy or friend to prove myself to?
Have I someone new to defend myself already.
Have I someone aquainted to set up shields and masks already?
Well well
I don't know.
Yet I might know because I know im lazy, and I probably am not thinking or realising what I already know.
Does it sound mysterious?
I hope not!
There are enough mysterious people and intelligent people.
Just look at Singapore
so many intelligent people capable of quotioning and coheranting.
What use is that?
Am I discrediting them because I lack intelligence or mystery?
Maybe some.
Does that make me arrogant then?
It cannot be, because I lack both.
but if I have the guile to say out loud I lack both, it proves a level of both in me.
So what point is this?
Why do you need points to end with?
Will there be a point? or will there not?
Can this writer produce a point? Or end with a unnecassary laugh or jeepy creepy ending?
Does that entail more contentiousity?
Does li...
la la la.
A song's in my head again.
Thats nice
dum dum dum
No, wait, its morning now here.
Well, you would know, you're in Singapore.
And whether you're a loyal reader, or someone who found this by mistake, or even someone who knows me and thinks my blog paints clear pictures of me in your head, or someone who dont know me and am trying to.
I welcome you.
You read this because you care,
you care because you have values,
you're curious
and somewhat inquisitive.
No problem, read on my friend.
Was all that Reuben's thoughts?
Well, it had to be, it was written by him.
Hence, as one normally concludes, is his thoughts.
Does the writer himself counter that?
No he doesn't, which he himself is unsure why.
Yet at times he is in perfect state of mind, that comes at a price, he questions the possibility of such a state.
Logic.
Simple Logic, where everything adds up and no human can deviate so much he is out of the norm.
Am I talking about myself?
Well, ideally yes, but no.
So,
I am a 19 year old boy. or man. whatever you'd prefer.
19 years of age.
quite young ar.
so...
what next?
I just read my own blog posts and I get this weird feeling that someone else is writing them.
For my feelings vary.
Ahh but there are times where my writing style changes, where it seems my heart is open and pouring its thoughts.
Yes and no really, yes its from me.
No cause I tend to fabricate.
Why do I justify myself?
Have I an enemy or friend to prove myself to?
Have I someone new to defend myself already.
Have I someone aquainted to set up shields and masks already?
Well well
I don't know.
Yet I might know because I know im lazy, and I probably am not thinking or realising what I already know.
Does it sound mysterious?
I hope not!
There are enough mysterious people and intelligent people.
Just look at Singapore
so many intelligent people capable of quotioning and coheranting.
What use is that?
Am I discrediting them because I lack intelligence or mystery?
Maybe some.
Does that make me arrogant then?
It cannot be, because I lack both.
but if I have the guile to say out loud I lack both, it proves a level of both in me.
So what point is this?
Why do you need points to end with?
Will there be a point? or will there not?
Can this writer produce a point? Or end with a unnecassary laugh or jeepy creepy ending?
Does that entail more contentiousity?
Does li...
la la la.
A song's in my head again.
Thats nice
dum dum dum
~R.Ho, 12:09 AM |