i'm an mrt cheat!

I go home from Cityhall alot, usually after gym. To get myself a seat, I usually take the train 2 stations back to Marina Bay to get back to Woodlands.

According to a A.Raviprakash, I am a MRT cheat. Choice excerpt: "These are the ones who board the train at the station before the last one on the route. They do not alight at the last station, but remain in the trains and continue their journey when the train starts again."

Oh dear. I hope the Judge, when she's done with CSJ and sister, will have enough reason and logic to show leniency to me.

I just don't have what it takes to get a seat. After gymming, I'm just so tired I just wanna crash in the train for the too long journey back home because I probably have at least 3-5 hours of studying. I'm not cut out to get a seat. I lack the single-mindedness to focus on an empty seat as the train is pulling up. I lack the grit to jostle through the outgoing crowd. I lack the skill to push the competition aside. I mean, you ask me to get straight As, no problem. The problem is they don't teach how to get seats in books. Except maybe in the Muay Thai book.

Anyway, getting a seat is really not as hyped out as it is.

People are getting fatter and fatter, it's really quite hard to get your own seat all to yourself. I mean, I can deal with people who open their legs big big to air their crotch cuz I can leg press ALOT of weights. But fat people there's no pushing them back; they win just by existing.

Once, despite the train being really empty, I choose to seat beside this really slender female. She looked at me like I was a psychopath, and I replied with my 'it's for the best' look. It really was for the best, till she got off at Somerset.

There was another time I sat beside this seat which had a stain that looked suspiciously like blood. Singaporeans avoided the seat like poison and I was left alone for awhile. I was happy. Beware, however, of the one gross enough who dares to sit on blood-like stains.

another me

There is a Me inside of me.

It is a very very angry Me.

This Me flings hot soup at unreasonable meepok aunties, threatens obnoxiously eager commuters pushing from behind with death, snarls at civil servants as the default mode of communication, sinks his butt firmly onto his seat when it's time to 'All rise and welcome the President' and blocks ministerial entourages and jeers at the object of the entourage [LHL]. This is the Me that gives people what they deserve.

I tell Me we must rise above, move on, move forward and be happy for the people who let us down, played us out, and still continuously rubbing it in our faces. Rising above.

This Me hates. He destroys. He taints.

I tell Me that there are bigger things to fight for, that there is a bigger picture: the poor, disenfranchised and the miserable, wretched as they are partly from continuing life mis-choices, but mostly the way they are from that big miasma called Life in Society.

This Me will gladly let the world burn; global warming, nuclear meltdowns and institutional poverty all seem trivial compared to personal affairs.

I fight Me sometimes. I tell him you are just what Dr Freud calls Id, the Thanatos, the unconscious result of unfortunate parenting.

I preoccupy Me, going to muay thai and willingly getting beaten, going to the gym every other day, running during the others, and practically doing something vigorous after and before sleep. No body should have to take that much punishment but mine does.

I pamper Me. With the unfailing security of the latest gadgets - the iPhone, the slr, the iPod and hiding behind the comfort of a laptop.

This Me sees through such deception and sees the ultimate fallibility of all things human and material. This is the Me that killed my mac, almost like tearing a human being and all the falsehoods such a small bundle of skin holds into shreds.

This is Me.

god help the outcast

This song randomly came up on my iTunes and I started feeling things.

This song came from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame. I remembered it's the last Disney cartoon feature song and dance which is kinda sad. It's interesting though: the irony is I never watched the movie when it came out then; in fact, I only watched the movie last year when I bought the DVD. I didn't really need to though; when the movie first came out, I bought the soundtrack. I listened to it so many times I could practically see the whole movie in my head.

As everyone who knows me knows, I think that religion is a tool of social control used by the few to control the many. I also think that under the name of religion, under the protection of most national constitutions, no other institution propagates more hatred and discrimination. In this fair country where I live, it seems that there is more possibility of a female PM than a female priest. Once upon a time, we hunted witches for sport; today we hunt homosexuals, albeit in a different way because gays have lots of money they can hide behind.

But for all my talk of science and empiricism, I really do believe there is a higher power. And on this fine Vesak Day, I pray that God help us outcasts.