A tortured head makes a wretched bed.

The past few weeks, I found getting to sleep impossible. It was so beautiful, my new-found reality, that sleeping would just be an act of absurd futility. I didn't bother Mr. Jack Daniels for the usual sleep-inducing beverage I've been accustomed to drinking as a pre-slumber ritual for the last few years. I was high, and I simply just didn't want to sleep at all.

Now, however, I don't want to sleep because I fear my subconscious mind. The nightmare last night, it was so vivid, so terrifying I simply refuse to allow myself to go through it again.

There I was, brought up to a climax of terror and then left hanging there, stranded.

The lingering pain, the morbidity of my subconscious thoughts, the scream I unknowingly let out. My forehead was flushed with cold sweat, my fingers were cold, my hands shaking. It never happened but it could so easily have. My parents came down to see if I was okay, then went back up after I assured them I was.

I wasn't.

Suddenly, it seemed as though every sound in my room was magnified and my presence diminished relative to my huge room with each tick of the dreadful clock. Every shadow I saw on my wall seemed as though it might come to life at any moment. A crow outside perched on the street lamp looked to be the harbinger of death, trying to bring me news of the most heart-wrenching kind. I desperately needed to know that everything was okay, a few years too late.

The people who wish for a imaginative, creative brain that can blur the lines between reality and the unreal seriously need to be aware of the burdens that comes bundled with such a mind.

It's not just hallucinations, they felt so damn real. That's wayyyy worse. And the thing is you can't really do anything about it, because you can't wake up to a past that's flown by, and because you're not really even fucking asleep yet.

It's parafuckingnoia.

Nobody believes in terrorists and love until after the first attack.

Every first crush provides adequate justification to its name.
Reciprocated love the only antidote to its accompanying pain.
You left me tattered and torn seven years ago.
That very day I decided to build walls around my heart to fend off Cupid's arrow.

The years passed quickly and life has served me pretty well.
My heart became a fortress, and I'd never let anyone go beyond the doorbell.
These stone walls were built with your bricks and my mortar.
I figured a hollow castle always beats a broken shelter.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.
I took Cassius Clay's words way too literally.
The ladies fancied me, and no I ain't gonna complain.
Yet, I always held back emotionally so my heart would never be broken again.

But dammit, you had to come back into my life.
The pool looked shallow, but stupidly, I dived.
Your smile is a curve that sets every thing straight;
Especially when accompanying laughter makes those cheeks flush a scarlet red.

Stone walls built to keep you away ironically contain the castle you ought to stay.
You've found the keys, don't throw them away.
Frankly, I'm terrified you'll reduce my unassailable fortress into a windswept tent;
Never mind about defaulting on the seven-year rent.

7 years and 4 minutes

Only you could make 4 minutes seem like an eternity, and at the same time, make 7 years feel as though time simply swooshed by.

Awesomnity.

A phoenix rising from the flames shines with a distinct brilliance, and after going through a rebirth of my own, so am I.

I am London-bound in less than a hundred days and am going to one of the best universities in the world to get my masters degree.

I am making pretty good progress with learning the guitar.

I have read most of the classics on my reading list and am currently reading more contemporary works now.

My body is looking more ripped and defined than ever.

My shoulders are beginning to look like Hugh Jackman's in Wolverine.

My hair is now shoulder length and is literally silky smooth.

I am in love.

I am being offered a modelling contract from a prestigious modelling agency in Singapore but I am going to reject it because going to college is way more important.

I have rad new threads in my wardrobe.

I am earning good money doing flexible work like giving tuition and freelance modelling and don't have to compromise meet-ups with friends before I fly off.

I have a family who loves me deeply and real friends who care about me.

I have learnt how to discern and distinguish people in my life.

I now have a callous heart that is not afraid to discard any unworthy relationships.

I am awesome, again, as usual.

Slightly more this time around though.

Oh look, a lesson in conservative hypocrisy

First, you preach.

Second, you don't practise what you preach.

Third, you preach about not "practising what you peach" and how you want to change

What used to be a friendship bordering on brotherhood is now what you call an "ungodly relationship".

You claim to be released from it like it was a punishment, you claim you now speak with grace and words that don't hurt others.

Right, after stabbing someone in the back, it's okay to attack from the front?

Just because someone is does not believe in the same God as you does not make that person ungodly.

I am vegetarian, most of the time anyway.

I don't backstab people.

I donate some the money I earn from tuition and freelance modelling to charities.

I help out at hospices.

I counsel wayward youths and help them along with their studies.

I changed a delinquent's life, helped him score 10 points for his O Levels despite almost being kicked out of school in secondary 3.

I changed my own.

I admit my mistakes openly.

I never let my friends down when they are in need.

I keep my promises.

I go out in the world and ACTUALLY go do some good, rather than sit around in circles discussing the meanings of a book that is supposed to make you go out and do some good.

Ungodly?

Fuck you.

What have you done but talk?

What good have you done for this world apart from talking about messiahs and morals?

If those are your real friends, wait till one of them starts drifting away from your common ideals. Then see how your whole group will try to reel him in, or how they will ostracise him if he has enough common sense not to go back.

Friendship? Ha.

You remind me of Meg in THAT episode of Family Guy, insecure of making real friends who think differently and unconsciously gravitating to people who make you believe it's not you but a higher power who screwed up your life. Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.

Remember, shared joy makes a fair weather friend.

You'll find out, mark my words and that pain will hurt you as much as I did when you did those hurtful things and said those painful words to me.

The pain of losing someone you used to respect and love like a brother and a confidante. You'll find out alright.

Oh before I forget, Standard Chartered is on 6th December, a Sunday Morning.

Remember to bring what you'll need for a marathon: power gels, energy bars and yeah, the hypocrisy you have broken in so well. Run Stanchart twice around also to do adequate justice to your double standards.

FINISHER.

Yes.

I did it.

I ran and completed a Marathon.

Getting inducted into the marathon finisher's club before my 21st birthday.

As planned originally, as executed last night.

It was such a painful, trying journey that only the sweetness of finishing can make up for.

Taking on the arduous endeavour alone, with the starry night providing the perfect backdrop, I used the marathon as a personal ring of fire, a chance to expel the demons in my head and to do a bit of spring cleaning in my life.

As I crossed the finish line, so did all the things and people that clearly do not deserve a place in my heart. The expulsion of the demons of my past, the removal of doubts about my future. The disengagement from unworthy friends, the extraction of self from hurtful relationships.

What a carthartic, purgative experience.

What a run.

There were people rooting for at the end for me after all.

And those who were, are those who have always been and will always be in my heart.

Come to think of it, I was never alone. ;)

Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, the other is gold?

It's really amazing when two strangers become the best of friends,but it's really sad when the best of friends become two strangers.

How many more times will it take for me to see I'm ain’t even worth making the effort to wait to see if I finish an endeavour we both started?

First, scheduling to come back early in Thailand before we left. Then, now this.

Should have known, when you failed to keep your promise of visiting me when I was in hospital last year. Twice.

I'm tired man.

I used to pride myself on having many friends but keeping few confidantes.

I'm not so sure anymore.

For someone who is supposed to be my best friend, you sure let me down good and proper.

Giving me a fucking time limit to finish a marathon we signed up for together but you unfortunately couldn't follow through.

Just because you had to go to church at 8 the next day.

Essentially, I have to overcome a distance I never thought I could do, now alone, by a certain fucking time just so I GET to see you at the end.

What the fuck.

If not for your medical condition, you would be there anyway.

I don't blame you for having gastric pains, but can't you wait for me?

Why do you have to impose limits on me?




Then, you, of all people, you, my esteemed brother, tried to rub it in.

Sure, you have many close friends.

They are awesome, as your latest blogpost says.

Good for you to have a plethora of good friends.

No wonder you can cast one aside and not feel the pinch.

Yes, I know I have but a few close friends.

And, out of these few friends, there was this one guy I ALWAYS counted on.

He let me down ruthlessly today.

It's not the first time, but it sure is the most painful.

Actually, rubbing it in by saying such crap when our friendship is feeling such enormous strain.

You actually tried such base mind games on me.

I don't believe you man.

You break me to pieces my friend.

You win.

Through the years I've shed my tears,

Without your help I've faced some fears.

And it's plain through tears I cry,

That's its time to say goodbye.

Please don't let the sun go down on me.

"I would rather walk in the dark with a friend, than alone in the light"

Helen Keller's quote is probably the best way I could describe my enthusiasm in agreeing to register for my first ever marathon with my brother, Scuter.

It was going to be his first marathon as well, and boy, were we psyched up for it.

The plan, to do a marathon together before I fly off to London.

The aim, to simply finish.

The timing, of no importance whatsoever.

It was going to be fun, having had a strategy planned out, thinking about the Finisher's tee, training up with long runs into town in the evenings and nights.

Now, everything hangs in the balance.

16 days to the big test.

My brother, in so much pain, that he used "excruciating" more than once in his latest blog post from the hospital bed. Just reading that post alone made me cringe.

Every passing second, I pray he gets well soon.

Sadness at seeing his plight. Getting to understand the pain my poor buddy has to endure. The tasteless gruel passed off as food.

Every second, the realisation that the marathon is a unlikely possibility becomes more and more distinct.

Helplessness. Frustration. An overwhelming sense of ennui.

Oh well, fuck the marathon.

I rather just sit this one out than cross the finishing line in an ambulance with my buddy in there.

Just hoping against hope for a miracle to occur, for Scuter to recover back to normalcy, and if it is possible, for him to lace up his asics and complete that testing distance with me.

Get well soon, brother.

Sun, Sand, Sea and finally, Sobriety.

Reflections from Thailand

1. Bring Baht. Like, a lot.

2. You can never have too many beer singlets.

3. Snorkelling is fun the first ten minutes.

4. Jet skis can be more adventurous than you may think.

5. Dutch-Thai marriages spawn horrible, horrible offspring.

6. A friend who can double-cross you was never really a friend at all.

7. Ko Phi Phi is breathtaking.

8. English programmes on Thai TV consists of talkshows, African Improv Comedy (Stand Up Uganda) and really, really gruesome dramas such as the one with a telepathic retard who happens to have a living twin residing INSIDE his body.

9. At the beach, when asking where the nearest toilet is, 3 out of 5 locals will tell you to piss in the sea because it's cheaper. The other 2 will give you directions that are just about as confusing as the gender of Hilary Clinton.

10. If you love playing in the sea, don't ever ask the question in point 9. It'll probably leave you staying on your sun bed for the rest of the afternoon, sipping pulpy coconut juice out of a coconut obviously, and do nothing but wonder if waves are nature's very own flushing mechanism.

Changing the subject matter to something far more celebratory, United beat Arsenal 1-0 in the first leg of the CL semi final. Glory glory! One step closer to Rome.

Monsoon

And I can't talk in a crowd,
When I'm alone I'm too loud.
You've done your daddys proud.
Thank you for keeping me company,
You've all been so nice to me.

You know, it's kinda fucked up sometimes.

When you walk into a club, and you have girls who are hugging their boyfriends grabbing your hand as you walk past them.

Winking.

Biting their lips.

All this while Mr. Douchebag happily thinks he's got her undivided attention.

I should probably have gotten used to this by now, and I'll come right out and admit it, yeah, it's flattering.

but srsly WHAT THE FUCK.

At least wait till you've unwrapped your legs around Mr. Douchebag before you even try your luck with me.

Last night, I told this douchebag whose bird just fucking grabbed my hand, in her presence: "hey man, hold on to her tighter cos she's looser than your mom"

And the douchebag got madddd. Oooooh scary.

Then he said this "Don't think you tall and big I scared."

I laughed.

Then I said "Duuude, you sure you wanna go there"

Then he said "Okay what the fuck you want?"

I said "I want a drink. Get her to buy me one"

Then he raised a fist, poised to punch but didn't have the balls to throw it.

So I grabbed his clenched fist, and said "Dude, you know everything in life can be solved by a nice cup of warm tea. Come, I'm thirsty, leave this chick here and let me and my bro here show you some sweet ladies over a nice cuppa"

Before you could say teh-tarik, me, my bro and the douchebag went to the prata place near zouk with seven babes in tow, four of whom we picked up that night.

Last night, a douchebag became a man.

Welcome to the club, my friend.