Michael Jackson

I can't even say R.I.P cause I don't really believe in the dead resting in peace, but .. damn. What a shame. What a shame.

The semi-charmed life.

The game of tag, or in local context, catching, seems to me to be an exploitation of our innate fear of loneliness. A kid - the "catcher" - runs after the rest of the kids, aiming to tag one of them; usually the slowest of the lot. The kid tagged assumes the role of the catcher while his predecessor joins the rest of the group.

We loathe to be the catcher, preferring instead to be part of the herd and not the solitary, friendless hunter. The first catcher is picked at random (in most cases apart from obvious bullying circles where the least popular guy is always assigned the role) and the subsequent ones usually the slower runners. As such, the rest of the group laugh at the futile attempts of the catcher to tag them and in the process, bond.

I observe similar dynamics in other groups. People in hall gossip, laugh and poke fun of certain groups or individuals. In cliques, there's bound to be an individual who's either stupider, uglier or just different from the rest, and he too is often the subject of many unedifying conversations.

While in no way condoning such behavior, I must admit that it is for the most part, human nature. There are crueler deviations though, and those mildly disgust me. Just as how in a game of tag, the stronger and faster among us might mock the catcher, standing stationary or extending a hand only to swiftly withdraw and turn away when he draws near, similar phenomenons can be seen in social groups. The examples are too many to list, and I'm no sociology student, so I won't go there. (In fact I'm not even sure of the purpose of this exercise, but I'm bored and shall go on.)

It's kinda hypocritical for me to be talking about this issue, eh. So, let me be honest. I've said to whoever is unlucky enough to be within earshot that if a person's ugly, he/she better be smart, and if the person's stupid, he/she better be doing well in the aesthetics department. That's of course an over-simplification, but the general logic remains. I cannot stand to be in the company of ugly and stupid girls. If they're ugly, stupid, but quiet, fine. But if they're ugly, stupid, loud and whiny then it gets on my nerves and I generally ignore them if they leave me alone.

People often have redeeming qualities though. An ugly girl might have a heart of gold, and an ugly guy be incredibly nice. That said, I can't help but wonder sometimes whether these qualities exist to compensate for their lack of physical attractiveness. For example, an realistic guy will look in the mirror and tell himself that his looks are not going to get him anywhere so he better be a bloody nice guy. Or at least appear to be a bloody nice guy.

With some effort, anybody can be reasonably attractive. Wit and humor can be cultivated, hair can be properly cut and styled, physiques can be developed, and good hearts either faked or nurtured. Same goes for other auxiliary traits like intellect, musical, sporting skills. The only excuse for going through life as an unattractive, ugly and stupid slob is sloth.

Some people are lucky and born with gifts and talents that make their lives easier. Others should do a little self-reflection and make appropriate adjustments.

I, for one, shall strive to be a little nicer; which is a pretty ironic statement when you consider this entry. Haha.


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Now playing: Third Eye Blind - Semi Charmed Life
via FoxyTunes

A Spinning Coin

It's an awful lot easier to be yourself, when you're by yourself. Alone with your thoughts you can be anybody you want to be. It's when we're with people who know us that it is difficult. People form impressions of you, and it's that side of you that they expect to see when you meet them.

You'll expect someone fond of beer to suggest hitting a watering hole, and a superficial friend to laugh at the whale in shimmery pink leggings. People won't expect a person they know as an animal lover to kick a passing stray, or a deeply committed boyfriend to start waxing lyrical about a passing girl's ass. In an almost subconscious response, you conform to such preconceived notions of yourself which in turn further reinforces the impression your friends have of you.

It might have been worth a couple buckets of laughter, but I'm tired.

If there is indeed an end, this is the beginning of that end.

Wow

I logged onto the ns.sg, the national service portal to apply for an exit permit and guess what, the stored userid/password in firefox didn't work. I found that strange, so clicked on "forget password" and the site returned that my account did not exist.

Strange, eh? No worries, I tried signing up again with my previous userid, and whoah I got this:

"The selected user ID is blacklisted, please choose another one."

They deleted my account cause they hated my user ID.

It was "safstinks".

Falling

I did a little experiment last night while lying in bed moments before slumber overtook me. I imagined falling off the top of a building with a parachute that will only activate if I come out with something resembling poetry.

In my mind I saw myself yelling out phrases that I hope would come together and make up a poem. I made it, and actually thought it pretty good. But as soon as I tried entering it into the phone, I forgot most of it.

This is the last line:

Such is the reflection of a fractured soul
that half should weep
while the other stays cold

Random Observations

Have you ever noticed that folks inept at sarcasm tend to start their attempts with "oh" and will probably throw in a "well" for good measure somewhere in between?

On a side note, I found Terminator Salvation to be at times boring, mostly unexciting, largely meaningless and lacking huge doses of logic. For one, I'm sure some compatibility tests have to be done before conducting heart transplants.

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Now playing: Frightened Rabbit - Be Less Rude
via FoxyTunes

Fuck Conscription.

Girl: I think we're too old for all of you!

Me: Really? How old are you?

Girl: 25.

Me: What, I'm 25 too.

Girl: Bullshit, you're 19.

Me: (Wtf) 1984? Year of the Rat?

Girl: *stares suspiciously* I'm a doctor.

Me: ...