Monday, June 16, 2008

Hate to a new level

When illusions fail, we meet reality. Real is real, we are not made up, we are not having false feelings. We just tend to visualized, think and imgaine what we only want to but when we hit back only then reality checks back and only then we wish our steady feet won't fail us now. Do we become what we want to become, become what we cannot be, become what only others wants us to be. Impressions are made from analyzed judgements. But unfortunately, judgemental judgements comes 1st before impressions so then we - become.

It is offically back to school. Class with low attendance as usual, I must say. Mircocontroller Systems. See, the module speaks of its own "Chimology" stuff. It was something new today about some "interrupt" thing in the mircochip, it is alike us, doing our work, focused but when someone claps for example, we get interrupted thus, stop but unaffected we head back to what we were doing earlier. At least analogies can be applied to Engineering.



In the midst of the day, after lunch with baby. I surprised her with gifts. Hope you love it baby, I like the colour, texture and how the pages are tied up all well with a bookmark, use it only for your personal yeah, do not be afraid to write anything down because I just want you to note down your feelings, reflections, thoughts and so on. The next gift, Ben and Jerry's ice cream sometime soon, but I do not want you to wait for some time to go with me or anything just use it when you want and can.



Before, she left school for work and I left for home, I decided ok it was time for her to have my kind of 1st love letter to her though I wrote to her here and there many times before. I even got a draft done so that I could count how many heart shaped stickers I could use and so on to aid me with writing a proper one. Hope it wasn't a real rush for her but hey it is for you, my love. What is the occasion some may ponder, well nothing just a suprise gift randomly!



Heading back to the Train station was a pouring wet exprience. It rain for at least an hour, but it was heavy enough to keep the drain filled with strong gushing water, cars that splashed water when they drove wildly through countless pool of puddles and for half of RP's student having their legs totoally wet and with shoes getting heavier. Wonder why would they build a sheltered walkway all the way from school to the interchange leaving just a short distance not sheltered which got many drenched in the end. The walkway sheltered, but the drainage system awully bad, so it keeps our upper body dry but the lower darn wet till the uncovered way mentioned earlier. Wells just a thought while reflecting back on that.



Church it was, a sudden feeling to go, some will call it a calling in some way. Not knowing it was the last day of confirmation camp 08' confirmants attended evening mass as well. Did a little prayer and back home it was.



Exit to enter a new day. Falling into interest with my title for the last post, its meaning simple but varies through different thoughts of different minds.

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"Sometimes we seem to see hate more than love as we have that haunting confusion between both."
The leader in obivious ways but he is scared and humbled away when the truth arise one day. He fed the rich and abandon the poor, he taught the blind to walk and he helped the lame to see. Nothing more than it seems, as how contradicing life can be. To seek that path still in search to be enlighten by our very ownself and to forget knowing the rest.

About Me

Singapore, Serangoon Gardens.
I wouldnt say I'm that much of a simple guy who lives down the street with little motives running through his head, cause that wouldnt be me neither would it be that simple. Like most and all others, a man who transits between his faith, hopes and downs back to reality where either or neither both be found. If I was to state me as simple, then it places my aims to the test. Defying the oughts of nothing but the simple truth, sad and drown, torn yet driven to find out why and the reason he was brought here in aid to comprehend his fingerprints and the complex map as if a form of hardcore tattoo arcoss his palm printed; he urges his story to unfold, crushes the young chapters but alike an innocent kid, places it under his pillow. What will you do if you came back to life and held the object and subject who killed you? To meet and yet be part of the director of this enticing thriller yet dramatic plot of my life.