Again and Again

I'm tired. Working like a dog. Working odd jobs. Working odd hours.

Too tired. Too painful.

I have a shoot later.

I still have other things to do.

No time. Never enough time.

Always a wrong time. Always in the wrong.

No one's home. Nobody. Nobody's left.

Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova - Once

Part of me
Has Died
And won't return
And part of me
Wants to hide
The part that's burned

Once, once
Knew how to talk to you
Once, once
But not anymore

Hear the sirens call me home (x4)

Part of me
Has vied
To watch it burn
And the heart of me
Has tried
But look what it's become

Once, once
I knew how to look for you
Once, once
But that was before
Once, once
I would have laid down and died for you
Once, once
But not anymore.

Hear the sirens call me home (x4)

Moving Along, Unknowingly

Assisted a friend this morning for a shoot and he asked me about my future plans. I really cringe each time this question pops up during conversations. Deep down inside, I really don't know where I am heading to or what I really want out of my life. I told him about not continuing with photography full-time and that I've been sending out resumes to a myriad of companies. While corporate life may appear to be stiffer and more boring, making a living shooting is just too...unstable. I admit that I have had dreams of doing something that I like but I think this time round, practicality rules above all.

Had dinner with another friend last week quite coincidentally. I had just finished a shoot while he was on his way to a job. We talked about the photography business in general and he taught me a few marketing tricks. I think most people are taken aback when I say that I do not intend to carry on in the industry. Somedays, I just feel that I'm not good enough. Period. Other days, I want to experience the corporate life for awhile before deciding on the next path.

At least I don't feel so conflicted these days. I may not know where I am heading but I know that I have to do something about it. I have an inkling that of all the resumes that I've sent out, I'd get back at least one reply. Even then, it's only for the interview and things are too murky for me to see clearly.

Living the life as a creative certainly rocks (if you discount the sporadic paychecks, long hours and big egos). But I do want to attend to other aspects of my intellect and curiosity. I'm certainly spoilt for choice.

I Forgot

I have forgotten when it last rained. The hot weather had been wrecking havoc on me, always feeling flustered and full of angst. When the heavens opened up earlier, I finally felt relieved. It's been awhile. So I read a short story, watched a romantic show on TV and drank my tea. It's been awhile. Funny how the weather affects me so much. I just love it when it rains. It refuels me. I'm ready to start work. I have a story to write, tests to study for and lots of pictures to edit.

In this recess week, I hope to spend more time with myself.

I haven't forgotten the strange dreams I had. There were two parts to it: the first involved a friend's death and another's anguish. The other was about a quest for dinner, rain and a very unhelpful telephone operator. I have no idea what they all mean, really. Maybe the subconscious is giving me signs about the new friends in my life.

Old Friends

It's been awhile since the old clique hung out together. Everyone's put on more weight and we take up more space in pictures. It was fun to spend time together although sometimes I feel that I'm the one most removed from the group. Then again, in any group setting, I'm always on the peripheral, never having much commonality with everyone. Cars, motorbikes and soccer are just not my topics. But of course I do miss everyone. I've sort of lost touch with them over the years, especially after moving so far away and having someone else in my life then. Seeing everyone with someone special today made my heart ache. There's a reason why I would like to earn enough so that I can afford to move back to the east. I do miss my friends.

Portishead - Seven Months

How can I forget you
Disregard how I feel
Silently listen
To the words I can't see
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
Why should I forgive you
After all that I've seen
Quietly whisper
When my heart wants to scream
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
There's no time to rest
Or to reconsider
For this cruel unsaid, won't concede
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek

Are You Alright?

Sometimes I ask myself this question (especially after drinking two nights in a row and getting seriously smashed last night).

Last night was bad. A long night split into four parts with segues that involved me giving directions while inebriated, playing dumb drinking games that I kept losing (who wouldn't after 6 hours of drinking?), picking up a random guy to introduce to a friend's friend whom I just met and trying to sleep it all off by the river.

But really? Was this all for fun? Or is there something fundamentally more wrong (and insidious) deep down inside?

I guess I won't find the answers typing this out anyway. Shrugs.

Off for more fun tonight. I hope it won't be another long passage of darkness again.

Reload

Looking through my archives for my portfolio revamp. I always wondered why some people I pass on the street look vaguely familiar. Then it occurred to me that I might possibly have images of them on my computer.

Thousands of pictures of strangers. I won't know their names. I won't know where they stay.

There's only one person among them that I really want to talk to.

But I'm not sure if I'm ready.

(p.s. have been coughing for the past week and cough syrup doesn't help)

Found some old files stashed away in the hard drive.

Suddenly it dawned on me that I'm really fucking talented.

I shouldn't really be screwing around and doing dumb things.

Bright things ahead, hopefully.

A Year Ago

How things seemed so different yet so similar exactly twelve months ago.

I was contemplating about the next step in life, hoping to attain self-actualization. Now, I don't think I'm making any conscious effort at all. I have surrendered myself to some cosmic wave that will just push and tug me along. I don't really want to make the efforts to worry/think/mull about it anymore. It's just too tiring.

Think I need a little solitude now. Sharing a room means a complete lack of alone time. And I can't stop coughing, which kinda sucks. Wrote like 3,500+ words yesterday for creative writing class. Words just flow like water sometimes. Will have to revise the short story in a while.

I vaguely remember that I dreamt of traveling. Images are hazy but I miss the smell of freedom.

The Decemberists - Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect

And I am nothing of a builder
But here I dreamt I was an architect
And I built this balustrade
To keep you home, to keep you safe
From the outside world
But the angles and the corners
Even though my work is unparalleled
They never seemed to meet
This structure fell about our feet
And we were free to go

Shooting Arrows In The Dark

Sent out quite a number of resumes today. Finally gotten serious about it, sort of. Still got a few that I would have to do over the next few days. It's really like randomly throwing darts at some positions, hoping that I would be hired. In another life, I had dreamed that I was above this, doing what I like and moving to a cosmopolitan city and living the high life as a rich and famous somebody. Alas, those are nothing but wisps of smoke while I have to wrestle with reality, i.e. my rapidly shrinking wallet.

VDay's round the corner and it's making me rather sad actually. I think I will try to do a lot of work to keep my thoughts away.

A hundred and one things to do anyway. I have to write them down tomorrow before I forget.

I wish you could explain the differences between quantile regression and linear regression in plain words for me. I know how it works intuitively but I can't seem to put it into words.

Shorty Got Low Low Low Low, Low Low Low Low

One of those days when the brain seems to secrete less serotonin than the normal person. Woke up after a night of heavy drinking, no idea why I went in the first place. Guess I needed some company. Didn't spend that much because somebody had something to celebrate. Woke up feeling extremely dehydrated as usual. Finished up putting the new website's css into place, only to realize that I was going to be late for my class excursion. On my way down to school, I recalled that I had so much school work to do that I felt guilty not fulfilling my academic duties. It'd be a long night (and day) ahead to finish up two reports, two writing assignments and a test paper for class.

For our creative writing class, we went down to walk around Little India. I was rather bored because I used to walk around there alone, taking pictures. Of course, it was near a certain somebody's place and I realized how much I missed that person. We walked down the red-lit alley way, full of old and aging prostitutes, looking sad in their skimpy dresses. Groups of older men, Indian men and all other kinds of shady characters clumped outside some of the houses. The men looked desperate, eyes roving and feeling impatient. As our group advanced, some of the men trained their eyes on the girls in the group. I don't know, I just felt that we shouldn't be there. A Chinese uncle was joking about us in Hokkien, asking his friend what we were doing there, had the place turned into Orchard Road?

On the long train journey back, I read my hard-to-read book about a boy's life, filled with boring descriptions of things happening around him. I also observed a young couple on the train, how much the girl took care of the guy. She wiped his arms and neck with a wet tissue, with so much tender loving care. And he fell asleep, probably tired from a week in the army. I found them to be rather cute actually. A tinge of jealousy forming in my heart.

Storms Brewing in a Cup

Finally sorted out some school related issues but every week brings more to read and prepare for. Soon...soon it will be over, I whisper to no one in general. At least two out of four classes are interesting and the finance class's prof is a nice guy (most of the girls are having major crushes on him. lol) I need to send out some job applications before this week is up, which pushes the schedule back for the fun stuff that I like to do. The creative writing class will be visiting Desker Road on Saturday evening. How strange. I'm contemplating if I should bring my camera along. I think that if I don't finish my readings by this week, next week would be very painful.

I am waiting in hope for my paycheck to arrive. I refuse to touch my emergency funds. Sometimes it feels like everything is hanging on precariously, balancing on a tightrope. That's when the power of faith and hope comes in. These storms are only temporal. Very soon, it will be bright and shiny again.

Can't you smell the freshly-cut grass and feel the sun's warmth on your face?