Desmond and the Alternate HTTS on a Pedestal.

It's been awhile since I've blogged, and somehow I've even missed a month without realising it. Time seems to pass more quickly the older you get, for reasons unknown. I wonder how it'll be like when I'm 50! But no worries, I'm not going to blog about how old I am, and how time passes quickly, and how I haven't blogged in awhile, because time is precious. Your time and mine.

What I will say is, I really missed taking photos, and editing photos. I haven't been able to do that for a while now, and that's largely because of the partial-demise of my old Macbook. Yes, Macbooks do die too, and no, they don't go to heaven. Instead, they go right back into the pretty white boxes they came in, and they sit there on the top of your cupboards, constantly reminding you of your folly like some holier-than-thou-saint on a pedestal. Every time you lift your head in exasperation, you see a white box near the ceiling, and you cry, "WHY GOD, WHY!? I've already lost a Macbook and now I (insert difficult situation) also?!"

But such is life. Honestly. And after many weeks, my new Macbook has arrived. God is good. :) This is why, children, saving money and CNY visiting is good.

Desmond and the Bouncing Up.

"Aww man, I'm home." Those were the words I said under my breath when I got off the cab and lugged my huge duffel bag back home.

I spent a good part of my December being a soldier, and got off just a few days before Christmas. Now, under normal circumstances, I would complain, but really, Decembers are not meant for negativity. Besides, in retrospect, things are usually less intense than we felt in that moment.

2011 is coming to an end, and in retrospect, it wasn't that bad a year.The start of the year had me coming back from Ireland, a little sad, and a little defeated. And then in the middle of the year, I hit a low, before bouncing up again. It sounds simple doesn't it?-- hitting a low and bouncing up. But that's a few weeks out of my 52 in 2011! And it seemed eternal then!!

But true to the nature of time, it all passed by, and now here I am. The closing days of 2011. And I've got to say, 2011 has been good. Trying, at moments but ultimately, (and in retrospect) good. I thank God for new additions in my life, and renewed ambitions. Small ambitions, but renewed, nonetheless.

If Home is where the Heart is, then this year, I have new homes to miss when I'm away, to tidy when it gets messy, and to stay safe in when I'm a little sad, and a little defeated. And I thank God for that. I thank God for new homes. And I pray that He will be a part of my every home, wherever my heart is.

Happy Holidays world. :)

Desmond and the Workaholic Trap.

With all the madness--school or otherwise--that has been going on recently, I've hardly had the time or motivation to blog. Do I still wish to keep up with blogging on a regular basis? Yes. Do I wish to define 'regular' as once a week? Um, no, thank you...

So when this morning turned out to be an early one for me, with some time in between breakfast and lunch, I decided to seize the day and quickly drop a short entry while I still can. That's a good concept to live by, actually. You don't hear it much now, but Carpe Diem used to be widely touted in the late 1990s, and early 2000s. Personally, I think it should really be made relevant again. We work too hard in this day and age. We work overtime for zero benefit, and spend our holidays in schools or writing reports that end up badly anyways because somewhere, somehow, someone dropped the ball... it's a workaholic's life! And the funny thing is, that Someone, from Somewhere and Somehow, manages to escape the very workaholic trap we're stuck in.

Are we living ahead of our time, or way before it? Is it yesterday or tomorrow that we live in? Sometimes I feel like I'm always cleaning up yesterday's (and Someone else's) mess, or preparing for tomorrow's madness. But to be very realistic, that's unavoidable. It's how the world works. But that shouldn't mean we dismiss that Latin phrase altogether. We can, and should still, "Sieze the Day". For blogging short blogs, for naps, and for the little pleasures in life. Or simply for loved ones, and even ourselves.

"Carpe Diem."

Desmond and the Wandering Button.

Yesterday, I had some yam ice-cream, and lost my volume button on my phone. And then at night, I had ice-cream again and realised the next day that I had lost the ear-bud on my earphones. I'm often told that whenever you lose something, it's good to think back to the time you saw it last, and so I did just that. And after my trip down memory lane, I found the common denominator: Le Ice-cream.

It could be a conspiracy. Eat something cold and creamy with a holding device made of crispy biscuit, and somehow, the ice-cream demands something audio-related from you. Consider this my warning to you then: eat ice-cream warily, especially if you are the type who deals with negative emotions by stuffing ice-cream down your throat whilst watching a movie with your headphones on; the Ice-and-Cream never comes without a price. It could be your ear-phones, or your speakers, or even your ear, but remember: the Ice-and-Cream never comes without a price.

Of course, if it was really the biscuit that set off my audio-related loss... eat crackers warily. Or pick the cup or waffle option instead. You might find those much safer.

And me? Well, I might find my volume button and/or earbud. I'm not picky, either one will make me very happy. So very happy that I might even consider having a celebratory ice-cream.

"Button you must wander, wander, wander..."

Desmond & Rain.

I have been waking up the past few mornings to the sound of dripping rain and muffled sunlight, which could only mean one thing: the rainy season is back in town! That is always good because I love Rain!

It makes me happy, and it calms me, and it helps me sleep better. When rain drips off the side of the buildings in a repetitive drippety-drop, it creates some sort of chorus as if it were a concert choir, by the street. And I say by the street, because Rain is not pretentious or ostentatious. It's so real, and so natural. No airs about it.

It doesn't profess to be anything other than itself. Rain is grounded, and solid--two words that seem like oxy morons, because how could rain possibly be grounded or solid? But what I really mean when I say that is: In spite of how incredibly happy, and safe, and warm, the rain makes me feel, I don't feel like I'm in a fantasy that i have to wake up from. Because of how grounded it is, I feel that I'm in a fantasy that I have woken up to. Rain isn't just in my dreams, or in the air, making me happy from afar. Rain is there when I wake up, and falling outside my window. It's like happiness that is real, as opposed to fantasies that are... well, fantasies. Fantasies that exist only for someone else, somewhere else, sometime else.

Some of the greatest things are great because of how grounded they are. How, at any given time, they make you feel like you're on top of the world, but still deeply anchored to the ground. I don't know how to fully explain what I feel. Words are so limited, and the human ability to use words is even more so. But what I'm saying is: I love you, Rain.

(This Individual apologizes for his somewhat confusing entry. Like stated, the human ability to apply words is very limited. He wishes he could better explain it, but some things can never be explained. Or at least, not well. We'll just have to take the sentiments. :) )

Desmond & the Six Words (with the unexpected exhortation).

The months have quickly zipped by, and it's been nearly a year since I left for Ireland. One year! It honestly feels like a while ago that I was fretting over flights, and making friends, and the coats and clothes I would bring overseas. And now all that has come and gone. Wow.

It's still too early to make that end-of-year-I've-accomplished-so-much/little speech, but whenever you do look back and consider your life, you should make mental (or literal) note of your conclusions. Because I'm pretty certain that when December--the real time for the end-of-year-accomplishment speech--comes, other things would have taken place. And those other things will stand out more in my memory than the first half of the year, simply because they would have just happened.

Going with this theory of recentness and memory, I suppose I would also like to take the opportunity to remind my present, August 11', self that whatever has happened thus far, will soon pass. The joys and the pains, and the intense feelings that have risen out of recent events: they will slowly fade and give way to new joys, and new pains, and new intense feelings.

So to my present self (and any precious readers), take heart. Take heart. Because four months from now, you will find yourself saying, "the months have quickly zipped by...". And there will be all measure of truth in those six words. I can't tell you for certain that your situation will have changed for the better, or for the worse. But I can assure you that the change will come, and the hope of change should spur you to that: hope.

And even if four months from now, it seems worse... remember that months from then, from Decemeber 11', the same six words will still apply. And there will be fresh hope again then. The months will quickly zip by.
For me, I hope in God. I don't know what I hope, but I hope in God.

Desmond and the Slight Insomia Problem.

I woke up early today on account of my slight insomia problem, and although it has yet to be clinically proven, here I am, 640am, wide awake after coming back from a run.

When I left at 530am, I thought I would have the world to myself, but I was mistaken; 530am belongs to the older generation. It is surprising to see so many (elderly) people up, running, and socialising this early in the day, because there aren't as many youth up at midnight as we're often led to think. You would think if the morning belonged to the adults, the night would belong, in equal measure, to the young. But I suppose that's not the case.

Anyways, waking up early is really refreshing. I suspect it's even better when you choose to wake up early, instead of when you have trouble sleeping. And the best thing is, you can run as fast or as slow as you like, and you can wear the ugliest of clothes, and have horrible bed-hair, and no one will judge you. Because the 530am crowd have the life experience to know better than to judge by appearances.

Or at least I would like to think they do.

I think they do.