RIP Michael Jackson (1958-2009)

“I’m just like anyone. I cut and I bleed. And I embarrass easily.” – Michael Jackson

“The meaning of life is contained in every single expression of life. It is present in the infinity of forms and phenomena that exist in all of creation.” – Michael Jackson

“Yeah, Wacko Jacko, where did that come from? Some English tabloid. I have a heart and I have feelings. I feel that when you do that to me. It’s not nice.” – Michael Jackson

“Just because it’s in print doesn’t mean it’s the gospel.” – Michael Jackson

“And I remember going to the record studio and there was a park across the street and I’d see all the children playing and I would cry because it would make me sad that I would have to work instead.” – Michael Jackson

“I’m never pleased with anything, I’m a perfectionist, it’s part of who I am.” – Michael Jackson

“The greatest education in the world is watching the masters at work.” – Michael Jackson

“People write negatives things, cause they feel that’s what sells. Good news to them, doesn’t sell.” – Michael Jackson

“I love my family very much. I wish I could see them a little more often than I do. But we understand because we’re a show business family and we all work.” – Michael Jackson

“I wake up from dreams and go “Wow, put this down on paper.” The whole thing is strange. You hear the words, everything is right there in front of your face.” - Michael Jackson

“Because I think every child star suffers through this period because you’re not the cute and charming child that you were. You start to grow, and they want to keep you little forever.” – Michael Jackson

“And my goal in life is to give to the world what I was lucky to receive: the ecstasy of divine union through my music and my dance.” – Michael Jackson

“If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.” – Michael Jackson

Thank you

When everything comes to a full circle, the goodbyes are bade and we become a piece of history, or perhaps in more flattering terms, a mini legacy.

I never could’ve anticipated how my last days at Mega Media would turn out to be, when just two months ago I was on the verge of hysteria, being saddled with workload no straight man could possibly carry, spending countless hours contemplating with the value of work and its demerits, renewing my drive to get off the track of slavery and hop on to the fast train to be an independent filmmaking trader.

Never could I have imagined forging bonds with a group of people I thought I would solely maintain a working relationship with and nothing beyond that. Never could I have imagined meeting a group of people full of determination, zest and drive, all having their little dreams inside of them, with something they wanna do in their lifetime before they depart from planet earth. Never could I have imagined learning once again more from the people around than the work I’ve been involved in.

This heartfelt entry is dedicated to all of you.

“Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him. We… seldom say much about those treasures, because people no longer want to go in search of them. Later, we simply let life proceed, in its own direction, toward its own fate.” – Paulo Coelho

My admiration goes out to all of you, having equipped with skills that have gone through years of polishing and from vast experiences. Those things you all are so good at and stuff I could not have possibly done well (or messed up an even bigger time) without all the guidance and patience with me. Those great times we’ve spent together – in the editing suites, filming out in the sun, at the go-kart circuit, drinking ourselves silly, or those various random moments we’ve had – all of these will be firmly etched at the back of my head, forming part of those memories I hold dear to.

We, the graduating students, are now embarking on the journey towards the end of the road from school, inching closer to the harsh realities of the pragmatic working life that will soon embrace us with open arms, where we forget who we once used to wanna be, what we used to wanna do, and all those aspirations we have had, having vanished into thin air as we come to terms the real world where fulfilling dreams means our stomaches cannot be filled. Settling for a safe and secure job would be the second best, and finding ways to keep ourselves sane as we submit ourselves into the unspoken slavery to our monthly paychecks would be one activity we would be getting used to doing.

The uncertainties lie ahead of us, as those days of breaking rules and fulfilling our idealistic individual expression will come to an end. Reality will soon hit us, and we will come to an abrupt realisation that things are never as rosy as what we have imagined it to be when we were still young, and most likely, innocent.

Maybe I’ve been reading too much of Paulo Coelho’s books. Maybe I’ve been thinking big too often. But from the sheer fact that people in the creative industry are all talented souls waiting for that big break, I see them being repressed by the mundane mediocrity of work where self-expression is often dictated by bosses and superiors who probably know nothing much more than those involved really do, but for the sake of conforming to commercial norms or profitability, the creatives rarely ever get to call the work as their own.

I humbly dedicate this entry to all of you out there, because from the bottom of my heart, I hold deep respect to you because you’ve impacted my life a great deal, even though it has only been a short span of six months. I learnt many valuable lessons that could not have been taught to me from books; things that couldn’t be deemed fit to be put in my internship report, I penned them here.

Just a very short thank you note for me to be remembered by.

Thank you. Very very much.

going away

When no amount of sleep can rejuvenate you, when the world of fiction ceases to amaze you, when you start surfing flickr and look at stunning photos of various exciting destinations, and when malls start to look the same and you fail to derive pleasure from retail therapy, and when the most uplifting story you hear fails to inspire you,

it’s time for a damn long holiday out of the country.

Let’s go to Maldives.

Maybe Zurich.

Okay I’d be satisified with Vietnam.

Please tell me how do people survive years here without seeing how amazing the world out there is.

fanboy

An exciting day for me as I just got my hands on this latest!!

And to top that off I shook hands with my idol Kathy Lien (currencies trading expert) at the Asia Investor and Trader Convention at Suntec City! Now my life’s a little more complete I just need a little more love.

Have a great weekend ahead

12 months later

I know my degree will not exactly be very useless but why am I feeling like this little character here.

Source: Facebook group “I Picked a Major I Like, and One Day I Will Probably Be Living In a Box“

The Visitor (Part 3/3)

Bing stared blankly into space. He seemed to be deep in thought, but his eyes gave him away.

“They say the eye’s the window to the soul,” the Thai tourist told Adam, who at once knew what he meant by that.

“One can look at the eye and the inner character of the person will transpire.”

The Thai tourist’s eyes panned across the MRT cabin, curiously observing people as the train cruised down the tunnel in high speed. The people dressed in office attire looked tired and listless. They all want to reach home as soon as they can.

In the tourist’s eyes, these people were not like what he has seen before. They were so different from his fellow countrymen, who were less educated, had much less privileges than them, and led simpler lives. But from their eyes, their soul could speak. In them there were life, unexplainable joy, inexplicable harmony, and impossible satisfaction.

The train door opened. Doses of people rushed in and out of the train. The Thai tourist had not seen people walking so fast like this before.

More people came into the train. They all looked the same – tired and dreary. With their stoic expressions, the train looked like a living graveyard. Their eyes were lifeless, and their minds were preoccupied with thoughts. For some, it was the lack of them. Those who were active were either worrying about how to food on the table, how to get promoted, how to get a pay raise, how to work harder to get their favourite bag, or how to get out of the rat race. The rest were just staring into space, engaging in an activity colloquially known as “stoning”. But there was little doubt that they were all unhappy, and nobody bothered to hide because everyone around them was just the same.

Adam read into the Thai tourist’s mind immediately, and explained, “Singapore is a small country without natural resources, and the people are its only resource. The government discourages welfare or minimum wage to ensure that they work hard to sustain the economy. Imagine if nobody works, the country will collapse.”

“But in Singapore, meritocracy rules. This means if one is willing to be educated and is capable, he can become successful. The infrastructure here is also very conducive for education and starting a business.”

The tourist nodded. Bing was shocked. He has not heard anyone speaking like this before, and he has never questioned the system nor attempted to analyse how things turned out this way. He was a blind follower of the system, and merely went the way everyone told him to. His friends around him were no different, complaining and whining, aspiring to be rich, but never took any opportunities to improve themselves. Some have gone to join MLM syndicates or become insurance salesmen, tempted by the lures of fast and easy money. Many of them do not realise that they have become slaves to the economy, because more often than not, they do not have the slightest passion in their work. They are merely pressing on to keep their ricebowls and pay off their debts and loans.

“Well, many Singaporeans focus on material wants in life, not realising that the intangibles matter more. Materially, they may be happy, but spiritually, they are empty. The arts is almost non-existent in their lives, and this is because they are overly pragmatic. They probably think that the arts is meaningless and they would rather invest their precious time making more money. Oh, talking about this, there’s a famous film director in the country too. His name is Jack Neo, and his works are highly regarded. Singaporeans really like him. You should take a look at his films.”

Bing interupted, with a beam across his face: “Jack Neo oh yes he’s my favourite director! I really like his films!”

Adam gave Bing a glare, and turned to the Thai tourist, “Oh yeah, and our aunties and uncles really love him to bits. He’s so good that he actually got the Cultural Medallion, the highest honour for any ‘artist’ here,” raising four of his fingers to the word he meant to encapsulate with quotation marks if he were to write it out to overtly show his displeasure towards the film director.

The Thai tourist was mildly intrigued by their little argument. “Even these two locals can’t agree among themselves,” he thought, unaware of the obvious social divide between the two of them, perhaps caused by either their demographic or educational differences. His was continually being amazed by everything he’s seeing in the country, including the multiracial and multicultural composition of the society, as well as the art of how the locals managed to maintain balance on a moving train without holding on to the hand grips.

–

The train screeched to a halt.

“My dear Singaporean friends, thanks so much for hosting me on this lovely island. Your country is really very nice and I hope you will love your country like how I love mine. I have learnt alot from this trip, and I realise that every country has its goods and bads. We try hard to be perfect but we know it’s not possible. Bearing this in mind, I think we should appreciate what we have because the grass will always be greener on the other side. Take care, my friends. May we meet again.”

The Visitor (Part 2/3)

The Thai tourist was into his second day of visit in Singapore. It was his third destination in his South East Asian tour following Malaysia and Myanmar.

“The food is very salty,” he remarked, taking a bite off the fried carrot cake the locals got for him to try.

The Food Street, often promoted by the Singapore Tourism Board, was devoid of locals. Those who occupied the seats were tourists, most likely to have found out about the place from their guidebooks.

“I told you to go to Chinatown Market food centre, but you insisted on coming here,” quipped Bing, the humble Singaporean who seemed more familiar with cheap and good local cuisines as compared to Adam.

“Well, I thought that since this place is widely publicised by the tourism board, it should at least be good,” retorted Adam, who was somewhat displeased, but having a tinge of guilt at the same time because he pays more attention to what’s good in Madrid and San Francisco than what’s good in Singapore. Both men seemed to be in an argument; their social divide couldn’t be made more obvious from the content of their conversation.

Picture: from Lim Wei Li’s blog, without permission.

“Blame it on the success of the Singapore marketing machine,” added Adam.

He obviously knew what he was saying. Never could he imagine that this small city state of his with only 640 square kilometres in size can manage to attract millions of tourists each year. With barely 40 years of history and being 100% urbanised, its appeal can easily be beaten by other countries hands down with their historical monuments, off-the-track offerings, and rich heritage. He never really understood the pull factor of his country, because he is often complaining of the lack of things to do. Even with so many shopping malls around, its outlets are repetitive. He then recollected his sightings of the tourism board’s promotional advertisements on London cabs and New York City billboards and probably realised why.

“I’ve heard of your famous icon, the Merlion. Do bring me there later, okay?” the Thai tourist added, reinforcing Adam’s viewpoint, as he tried to come to terms with the fact that this fish-lion hybrid national symbol that is supposed to represent Singapore as a lion city and Singapore’s roots as a fishing village, was regarded as an “icon” of his country in the eyes of tourists, when in fact he didn’t have any genuine affinity with the Merlion as the Thais would have with their elephants. Having said that, he didn’t know what to feel, because at the same time, he understood where the Tourism Board was coming from – the country’s economy being heavily reliant on external factors with tourists and their spending contributing to a large part of it. There was just the need to enhance the country’s appeal to foreign visitors, when it has neither much land nor a rich history to begin with.

Picture: from flickr, without permission.

“Hmm,” the Thai tourist took another bite off the fried carrot cake. His interest went back to the food, after taking a gulp of coca-cola to dilute some of its saltiness. “So… I’m eating carrot cake. Is this how typical Singaporean food tastes like?”

Adam gulped. Singaporean food? He has never heard that question before. Have we got our very own original Singaporean food, he wondered. Char Kway Teow. Wait, that’s Chinese food isn’t it? Bak Kut Teh. That’s chinese too. He brainstormed further. What about chicken rice? Oh, that’s kinda chinese. Roti Prata is Indian. Nasi Bryani is Malay. He wondered if there was ever a definition for “Singaporean food”.

Bing took over the conversation, “Because Singapore is a multi-racial and culturally diverse society, each race has its own delicacies. There’s no Singaporean food per se. But somehow, Singaporeans miss their food especially when they are overseas. Right, Adam?”

Adam pondered for a few seconds and replied, “That’s so true. Although we don’t have our so-called Singaporean cuisines, we can’t find them anywhere else other than in Malaysia and Singapore. Well, we may not have our own unique identity. But we’re special.”

The Thai tourist nodded, trying to swallow his mouthful of food and digest what his Singaporean friends has said.

All of a sudden, the Thai visitor looked up and froze. His gaze seemed to be directed at something at a distance. Putting down his chopsticks, he blinked several times. His eyes, now not moving at all, were still fixated at that direction. Adam and Bing looked at their Thai friend curiously.

The garbage truck pulled to less than 5 metres away from their table at the roadside, and stopped.

Adam and Bing turned back, and saw the worker of Indian descent lift the bin at the roadside, one hand holding on to the grip on the truck, the other emptying the bin into the rear of the truck. The engine roared ferociously, spewing white smoke from its exhaust near its tyres.

“I cannot believe it,” thought the Thai tourist, eyes still fixated on the garbage truck. His hands that were resting on the table, clenched into fists. He was in utter disbelief.

Adam looked at Bing, who was still puzzled.

“Bing… the garbage truck… had no freaking smell.”

–

Part III will be posted later this week.

The Visitor (Part 1/3)

The next time you pass by the Singapore River, perhaps take time to see its colour.
The next time you see a garbage truck, perhaps take time to smell it.
The next time you go to another country, perhaps take time to appreciate what you have in Singapore.

And the next time you work, perhaps take time to think: What am I working for?

“Singapore is very nice. Very modern,” quipped the Thai tourist as they walked down the Parliament House, clearly mesmerised by the brief moment of tranquility amidst the busy city with the silhouettes of the buildings forming the Singapore skyline composed of Suntec City, Marina Mandarin and the Singapore Flyer.

“We have only 40 years of history, but we are where we are now thanks to our forefathers who toiled for our generation to reap the fruits of labour,” Bing took a line off his history textbook, half knowing that he, being the ambassador of Singapore, should say nice things about his country.

“That’s right. And we have our founding father Lee Kuan Yew who had the wisdom and vision for Singapore, together with an excellent team of people, built the country up from third world to first in just 40 years,” Adam joined in the praise, equally proud of what his country has achieved over the years. “And not forgetting our hardworking workforce who contributed to our economic prosperity too,” he added.

The cool wind stroked their faces, not too warm and not too cold – the temperature just right to make one very comfortable.

“You know, when people sing praises of our country, I am always somewhat in a dilemma,” Adam said to Bing, as they walked on. Bing was surprised at his remark. “There are so many bad things about Singapore. Our country is well known to be tops at the good stuff. But sometimes, they make headlines for the wrong reasons as well.”

“Hmm…Wh…aat are you talking about?”

“I’m saying about our country being very pragmatic. We strive for tops for the practical stuffs. But often we neglect the intangibles. Little things like the Happy Planet Index. Our citizens are among the most unhappy people in the region, you know that?”

“Well, I’m happy everyday. I think maybe you’re thinking too much,” retorted Bing, obviously not being very aware of news, politics and current affairs.

“You’re living in your own world. Maybe you should leave your turtle shell and read up more, my friend.”

“Why should I care. They don’t bother me. I study hard, work hard, earn money, and be happy. Knowing all these won’t make my life any better.”

Adam did not respond. The three of them continued walking on the well-paved footpath along the road, free of litter and bumps. The bustling city orchestra was now reduced to the music of the silent symphony made up of cars that whizzed by occasionally.

They walked a short distance more, and arrived at the Singapore River, overlooking Clarke Quay. They could hear faint screams coming from the reverse bungee facility a short distance away.

“Ha ha, A river. Very nice lighting and very nice atmosphere down here,” chirped their Thai friend. Adam and Bing looked at each other and smiled. After all, they have been proud of their country and all the national education they’ve been through since young further instilled their patriotism. “But…I won’t be surprised to know that the colour of the water is yellow. Well, it doesn’t smell, but you might never know.”

Both men were taken aback by what the Thai tourist had said. Suddenly, it came to their realisation that even though they knew that there was nothing in their knowledge they couldn’t answer, the sheer audacity of this remark left them almost speechless. Nobody had spoke with such conviction and assertiveness to be almost certain that he will be proven right. What’s more, it’s a statement about the quality of things in Singapore that’s being thrown to them. They have grown so used to life being that way, taking everything for granted to the extent that they have failed to appreciate how fortunate they are, living with many privileges other people elsewhere don’t get to enjoy.

Adam replied calmly: “It’s clean water, my friend. Many years ago the colour was yellow. So the government ordered the cleaning up of the river, and since then, it has remained that way.”

“Oh really?” the Thai tourist responded, his eyebrows raised. “Well, I certainly wish our Thai government is that effective.” There was a tinge of disappointment in his tone. Or was it envy. Nobody could tell. After all, he had been living with what he has in his country for so many years. This little eye-opener was perhaps, something he accepted exists only in Singapore and not in his home country in his lifetime.

“Let’s go have our dinner,” Adam suggested, pointing the way down to Chinatown, where he could bring his Thai friend to sample local food.

–

Part II will be posted later this week.

Bon Jovi – Welcome To Wherever You Are

Maybe we’re all different
But we’re still the same
We all got the blood of Eden running through our veins
I know sometimes it’s hard for you to see
You’re caught between just who you are and who you wanna be

If you feel alone and lost and need a friend
Remember every new beginning is some beginning’s end

Welcome to wherever you are
This is your life; you made it this far
Welcome, you gotta believe
That right here, right now you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be
Welcome to wherever you are

When everybody’s in and you’re left out
And you feel you’re drowning in the shadow of a doubt
Everyone’s a miracle in their own way
Just listen to yourself, not what other people say

When it seems you’re lost, alone and feelin’ down
Remember, everybody’s different; just take a look around

Welcome to wherever you are
This is your life; you made it this far
Welcome, you gotta believe
Right here, right now you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be

Be who you want to be, be who you are
Everyone’s a hero, everyone’s a star

When you wanna give up and your heart’s about to break
Remember that you’re perfect; God makes no mistakes

The Monster and your Dreams

“People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they don’t deserve them, or that they’ll be unable to achieve them. We, their hearts, become fearful just thinking of loved ones who go away forever, or of moments that could have been good but weren’t, or of treasures that might have been found but were forever hidden in the sands. Because, when these things happen, we suffer terribly…

Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him. We… seldom say much about those treasures, because people no longer want to go in search of them. Later, we simply let life proceed, in its own direction, toward its own fate. But, unfortunately, very few follow the path laid out for them- the path to their Personal Legends, and to happiness. Most people see the world as a threatening place, and, because they do, the world turns out, indeed, to be a threatening place.”

- Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist.

–

The man looked at his ageing mother intently. She is old.

Many years ago, his mum told him: “Son, you must study hard. I hope that you can go to university and get a degree. Then you can get a good job, earn lots of money, and then support your wife and kids.”

He never questioned her. After all, he was told since young to listen to the elders and that they are always right. “We should respect them,” he thought.

So, he went on to study hard, got into good schools, sufferred minor setbacks here and there, but still managed to get a degree at the end. He graduated at 25.

–

Has anyone heard of the economic monster? It is a sucker. It really sucks. Its main diet includes citizens who cannot think for themselves, most of the time conforming to societal ideals, never questions much about things around them – unfairness, injustice, greviances. Its victims are most capable of doing an action commonly known as “suck thumb” and their level of endurance can easily pwn marathon runners.

The economic monster also steals. It steals dreams from people. Once you’re being sucked into the monster, you will not be able to free yourself until the age of 70. That’s when the economic monster lets you go. But…it’s only on the condition that you have the trump card called the retirement income. If not, you’d just be sucked back into it. It is no surprise that the monster even has government backing.

–

The man is troubled.

His mum has never told him about the economic monster. Now, he’s drowning in the whirlpool after being swallowed by it and he’s trying to frantically swim out to catch his breath. Office politics is drowning him. The ideals of his bosses, the burden of his bills and his meager paycheck he could not put up strong resistance. He tries his very best to struggle out of the whirlpool. But after a while, he gives up. When he graduated, everybody asked him: “What job are you looking for?” Nobody had ever asked: “What are you looking for in a job?” The whirlpool has now become a poo pool, and he doesn’t know how to get out of it. “I am becoming dumber by the day,” he thought.

–

He arrived home at 10 pm. That night, the monster had ordered him to stay inside it longer as it wanted him to stay longer. “It made no sense?” he thought.

He was tired and drained. The next day, he’d have to report back to the monster. He looked at his ailing mother. “How I wish I can be with her right now,” he thought. And that was all he thought about that day. He went to bed.

–

Today, his soul left his body. He looked at his drained body and sighed.

He is finally free from the economic monster.

“I have achieved nothing. I have done nothing for this world. I have wasted all the resources invested on me – the water, the food, the fuel – that could have been put to better use. Maybe save a hungry kid or something. And…I thought I wanted to have kids. But why would I bring them here to be gobbled up by the economic monster? I know they would be because the monster is ruthless. Dreams I had since young, they vanished mysteriously.

“Hmm, what a funny world,” he thought.