Dialogue With the Pull-Up Bar

An Encounter with Self

It was there, waiting for me, at the place that we usually meet at the stroke of midnight, always there, always earlier. It was there, for as long as I remembered, since the day I moved into the neighbourhood.

Though we have met many times before, every new encounter feels like the first, every new encounter feels different.

Yet there was something strange about its demeanour tonight. The mood was more solemn and tense than our usual, casual meetings, almost like the calm before the storm. Even the passing of cars on the nearby road could not break the stifling silence.

The pale moon threw its thin shadows across the floor and framed by the tall dark trees, creating an imposing sight, a sight which I am sure have been the cause of sleepless nights for many men.

Silence was almost like a third party in our meetings, and separating us and trapping us in our own worlds. Any exchange was minimal even though we have many times intimately touched.

 
The headlines today are spectacular. A few of the NTU academics found that 3 of 4 new jobs in the past 5 years were given to foreigners. And while I am not sure how they came up with their findings, I know that they have just opened a can of worms.

This issue of foreign talents and foreign workers filling up spaces in our job market and depriving our citizens of a higher pay or even employment has been simmering for quite a while. And in times of economic crisis, such a piece of information will no doubt have both the eyes and ears of the people.

It has been a constant debate between the ruling party and the opposition party for legislation in terms of a minimum wage law and priority employment for citizens when all relevant factors are equal.

More often than not, all things are equal except for pricing.

Now that the citizens are not guaranteed lifetime employment, neither are they guaranteed employment, the sense of a secure future that is central to the citizen's life is absent. Without material security, dreams and visions are difficult.

The government's call to the people not to rely on the state is to distance the people from the state. Forced and imposed independence often leads to a lack of love and loyalty. And the people assume a mercenary mentality akin to large multi-national corporations; every country is the same; every country can be a land of opportunity; ripe for plucking.

People will question why they even have to serve their national service. For all they have done, for all that they have contributed, they are neither protected from competition from fellow citizens nor foreigners. Then for what should they be loyal for?

Many stay because their loved ones are here, but that matters little when the living conditions become too harsh. I urge that we do not forget that we are a nation of migrants and a nation of quitters, and we can quit anytime.

Remember the power of good bye...

This is a time of anomie and change. If the opposition wants to turn the tables on the ruling party, the tide is in. They have little to lose. The people never had much to lose, and they are just beginning to realize it. They are only beginning to realize that they are each alone in this, with little to rely on. National pride is an illusion, social welfare non-existent and our national icons will fall one by one, beginning with our Changi Airport.

This enlightenment will bring about drastic changes. And hopefully, it will bring about new wisdom.

 
Love and passion are acts, not feelings nor intentions. I suppose this will apply to devotion, loyalty and benevolence.

Speaking from the point of a materialist/behaviorist, intentions and motives hardly matter anymore. Morally, the deed can be judged by its consequences and not its intended purposes nor initial motivations.

I admit that this is a rather reductive approach to morality and humanity. The mental, spiritual and emotional elements have been deemed irrelevant in judging if an act is lawful or moral. But I am being pushed to advocate this point of view.

For too many people have been telling me that they feel. But they do not do.

For too many people have been telling me that they love. But they do not do.

For too many people have been telling me that they care. But they do not do.

Sometimes, I wonder what they feel, love or care.

Love and passion allow for no excuse.

 
As the vehicle picked up speed, the packet of tissue that I placed on the floor of the truck came to life. The individual sheets took off and spiraled round, below the ceiling, above the floor. With each orbit, they gathered momentum and rose to greater heights.

As they approaches the sides of the truck, they were swept back by the currents drawn to fill in the vacuum left by the speeding truck; somewhat reminiscent of our very own thoughts, trapped by convention, fear or limits of our imagination; yet still given to an illusion of free will. For minutes, sheets fluttered about, held in by three invisible curtains of wind, seemingly free yet unable to escape.

Then suddenly one of the sheets spun too far to the side and whipped by the currents, it sped past (relatively speaking) the truck and into a distance, gaining greater heights and freedom.

Sometimes, we call such runaway thoughts: day dreams; other times: sudden bouts of inspiration; and other times, dependent on the subject: madness; genius or stupidity. But these thoughts could very well be what allows us to be free and to be human.

But often, socially, we call such deviance of thought: illegal.

 
Basketball on Sunday was as it usually was: GOOD.

And we have received heartening news: In about a week's time, we will have one more player; a returning player. It is an exciting time for all of us here, as we are seeing growth in the past few months.

On both team and individual level, we have grown, still is growing and evolving right before your very eyes.

From our weekly games throughout the years, we have all benefited greatly. Some are now faster, more agile; others have improved their cardiovascular endurance. Everyone is now healthier.

And in a subtle way, the game teaches us that the acquisition of social skills does not end when adulthood begin. Self confidence grows and self image improves with proficiecy in the game.

All these might sound as like some TV commercial for slimming products, but the truth is that it is possible... at the personal cost of perspiration, blisters, blood, sprained fingers, twisted ankles, and not to mention days of sore muscles and sunburns.

Disclaimer: The list of injuries include but is not limited to the abovementioned.

Life is an imperfect miracle that has lots of room for improvement.

So let us work on it.

 
This is the first time I am trying out my PDA since I accidentally smashed it against the floor.

The pain.... the pain....

Time stood still when it flew from my hand, with every moment of that fateful scene vividly carved into my mind.

NOOoooo...

In crystal clear clarity, I can see it in slow motion, took flight from my hand, tracing a short hyperbola before hitting the ground with great impact and a resounding crack, bouncing three times before coming to a halt eons later.

CRACK

There was no immediate pain, only a tightening of chest which refused to loosen when I tried to inhale. The pain soon followed. It was not a sharp pain, but rather a dull ache that resembled a heavy weight being pressed on your chest, slowly crushing you.

I... cannot.... breathe

I suppose reality hits you like a slow flying brick, with an undeniable force. Unlike usual pains which disappear after they exhaust themselves, reality is here to stay, and reality is as real as you are. It laughs at you and challenges you to do something about it.

The laughter.... get the laughter out of my head.... GET IT OUT!

And in my case, it slapped me with my own impotence and challenged me to turn back time.

 
On my bookmark:

"Nothing is so strong as gentleness and nothing is so gentle as real strength."

- Ralph Sockman

 
The sun was in my hair, the winds rushing past my ears, the blue skies framed by the shimmering green of the canopy overhead, titillating the five senses without end. Beauty can sometimes allow one to forget how terrible things can be.

But the consolation comes not from the beauty of the world, but the transience of the it all; from the understanding that it will all end someday.

It is not that I do not believe in eternity or eternal existence. It is that I do not want to...

 
Since years ago, I believe that the mark of maturity is self awareness and self empowerment.

Now, I would like to add that it is also the shift from self expression to self actualization.

So sing, to act, to dance, to live for no other eyes but your own...

 
Bung and Time

I have not worn a watch in years, in almost 5 years. And many curious souls have questioned me about it. With a simple shrug, my instinctive answer would be that I do not like to be tied down by or tied to anything; not a watch; not a chain; not a ring.

But it was not always so, there was a point of time which I did not mind....

I suppose it started since my army days, when a simple pager frames the chronological vacuum and fills the position of a watch. Most would know that my pager runs 47 minutes ahead of the institutionalized, international, codified time. That strange number was required to as doing mental sums in the morning to determine the correct time helps tremendously to shake the sands of slumber out of my eyes.

But there was a time which I wore a watch. A watch that was meant to tell me someone else's time, and for me to adhere to. It did not really work out. It just made my famous lack of punctuality relatively more pronounced and less forgivable since I wear an objective measure on my wrist.

At that point, I worked, lived and played as I used to.

And there was a time which I wore a simple ring. A gift from the same person who gave me the watch. It was a simple exchange; my heart for a ring. My hand held a ring when it can no longer hold still my heart. In the transaction, questions of fairness or relative worth seemed distant, the heart had to be set free. It just seemed so much easier holding onto a band that weighed a thousand tons then...

I have since took off the watch and I have since took off the ring. I have once again returned to my unordered life in the chronological vacuum, to the anarchy and familiar chaos which was characteristic of the normality which I have gotten used to since my early years of existence.

Everything was back to what it was, or kind of.

For my hand remains empty...

 
I Will Remember You

(by Sarah McLachlan, Seamus Egan, and Dave Merenda)

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

Remember the good times that we had?
I let them slip away from us
when things got bad
How clearly I first saw you
smilin' in the sun
Wanna feel your warmth upon me,
I wanna be the one

I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

I'm so tired but I can't sleep
Standin' on the edge
of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much
but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside,
but we can't be heard

But I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

I'm so afraid to love you,
but more afraid to loose
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
Once there was a darkness,
deep and endless night
You gave me everything you had,
oh you gave me light

And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories

And I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories
Weep not for the memories