Elevator frustrations

Now that my team has shifted to the main office right smacked in the middle of town, there are a lot of changes we need to get used to.

We have to take special care about our attire. No more casual wear like we used to degenerate to as before. We were an independent team situated far away from the head office. So we kinda set our own rules and all that. Now, it's back to shirt and tie everyday except fridays. Had to spend quite a bomb renewing my wardrobe of shirts, pants and ties.

The other thing I have issues getting used to is having to travel down by elevator to the ground floor for a smoke. At the old location, I could just walk out to the stairwell to smoke. As I smoke quite frequently, I had to travel up and down via elevators ALOT.

My pet peeve about those weird ass elevator commuters are those who stand next to the buttons and stare at the elevator doors, waiting for them to close. Do they not know that there is a 'shut door' button they need to press? At times, I wonder whether they have a phobia of contracting SARS or bird flu or some shit like that through contact with the buttons. Our elevators here have not evolved to that high tech stage where it gets operated by eye/mental power. (It would be cool though.) These folks love to stand next to the control panels and yet refuse to touch the buttons. They would usually be busy yapping away or trying to use their yogic mental powess to stare the doors shut. Not that I am a racist or anything, but these commuters are usually male foreign talents of Indian nationality. Is this caused by a difference in culture or something? If anyone knows, please enlighten me.

There is a second group of elevator asses that make me feel like shooting myself. When I am taking the elevator up to my floor, and it stops at some floor below mine to let someone out, there will always be some brainless ass at that lift landing who will ask, "Are you going down?" OMG, You think I took the elevator up to your floor to pick you up to send you down to the ground floor??? OF COURSE I am going up, peabrain!!!! And well, I am not sexist but these peabrains are usually members of the fairer sex.

I am happy that firearms are banned in Singapore. If it were otherwise, you will see lift lobbies riddled with bullet holes and blood stains.



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11:44 by aberwyn 9 comments

be strong

Dearest little one,

Today is the last day of the funeral. It is gonna be the most hectic day, the most emotionally draining one.

I remember...years back...I attended the funeral of a buddy's (ex)girlfriend...

They had just broken up for awhile, and the girl was already seeing someone else. On that fateful Sunday night, after meeting for a talk, he sent her home on his dirtbike. As they were reaching the junction near her home, a truck coming from the opposite direction made an illegal right turn, right into their path. Their bike hit the truck and my bud landed on the truck. He got up bruised, with cuts all over. In his daze, the first thought on his mind was still her. He looked around for her and found her lying in a pool of blood silently. The impact had flung her over the truck onto the road several metres away.

Throughout the 3 days of the funeral. He sat there dazed. No tears, no reminiscence.

On the third day, at the crematorium, after the final service, we filed into the viewing gallery to see her one last time. As her casket was being pushed into the furnance, her younger siblings were banging on the glass panel and screaming:

"SERENA!! WAKE UP!! SERENA!! DON'T GO!!"

At that moment, the atmosphere was so charged with emotions. I cried. She was only 20, in the midst of her university studies, with the potential of a bright future...

Back to you little one..
Seeing a loved one being pushed into a furnance and coming out as ashes.. is not an easy feat. I wasn't even close to Serena, but I could feel the family's anguish.


You are one who keeps emotions buried, one who will not talk unless you are ready. That is why I fear for you at this trying time. I wish I can be there, just to give you the peace my presence use to bring. Yet I know I do not belong there. It is ultimately an family affair. And I am an outsider. He had been part of your family in many ways through the last seven years. I hope he is there for you. I hope he will be there to lend you strength.

I wish I can talk to you. I wish I can give you a hug of assurance. I wish I can be there.

I wish... but I can't.

I can only write this here, knowing well that you will never get to read it.

Be strong little one. Be well.


Yours sincerely,
me.
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14:18 by aberwyn 0 comments

moving on

I need to move on
I want to leave the past behind

I want to move on
I refuse to dream of you tonight

I have to move on
I do not want to cry

Yet how can i move on
If i fear facing the demons inside?

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13:26 by aberwyn 4 comments

Strange Premonition

It was late evening. He was playing an online game with his friends as usual.

The screen suddenly froze. He banged the keyboard and a string of seldom heard of vulgarities shot out of his mouth. His Paladin would probably have died by the time he manage to reboot and log back into the game. After hitting the reboot button, he went to the loo for a bio break.

As he was washing his hands after his 'business', he noticed bruises on his right upper arm. On closer inspection, it seem like it was caused by someone grabbing in a vice grip from behind. He attempted to recollect whether anything that happened the last few days could have caused that.

There was no fight or violent sports done the last few days... So what could have caused that? With these questions in his head, he walked absentmindedly back to his laptop. When he sat down on his sofa, he was hit by a strong sense of apprehension. Without giving it a second thought, he texted his friends that he would come back online probably only in an hour's time. Then he picked up his keys, cigarettes and mobile and left the apartment.

He walked with hurried steps towards the direction of her place. As he got near, he heard the droning chants of Buddhist monks. He stood rooted when he saw the funeral.... It was her grandma's funeral...

At that moment, more questions popped into his head.

Is she ok?
Who gave him those bruises?
Who gave him that sense of apprehension and led him there?
Was it his 'housemate(s)'?
Was it her grandma?
Was he psychic?
Does he need to see a psychic?
Does he need to engage a bomoh to cleanse his house?

Or maybe he is in urgent need of the services of a psychiatrist?


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13:50 by aberwyn 2 comments

when all seem lost

What would you do if you face the possibility of losing your job? And you fell in love with the wrong one who got you beaten up and passed you chlamydia? A recent health test showed that there is a possibility that you have kidney issues and diabetes? You start losing your temper, your mind, your sanity?

And to cap it all, you nearly slept with a close friend who was comforting you?

No, it ain't the plot of some melodrama. It is a summary of my life in the recent months...

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19:06 by aberwyn 1 comments

"As men in rage strike those that wish them best..."

I was in a ten-year relationship with a woman whom I loved a lot. I loved her because she never failed to make me laugh when I am down. I loved her for her drive. I loved her for what I lack, the ability to stay focused on her goals and desires.

However, when she was hurt, she would cope herself in her room and sulk. When I attempted to share her woes, she would lash out at me. And I am not one blessed with a lot of patience. I would try to remain calm and talk to her. She would lash at me with a spiky whip coated with a poison of hurtful words.

"A knife wound heals; a wound caused by words does not."-- Turkish Proverb.

One of the main reasons why we went separate ways was how spiteful she gets when she was hurting inside. Anybody near her would be a victim of her words. I was the one closes to her, so naturally I bore the brunt of it all.

As the years went by, both of us moved on in our separate lives.

In the recent months, I finally fell in love again. It was not without it's ups and downs. In fact there were more ups and downs then my old battered heart could take. During this turbulent period, I realised, in my insecure and hurting state, I was lashing out at the loved one... I became the one I had to put up for ten years. I manifested into what I hated most. An angry machine gun that peppered those who cared with lead...

"Speak when you're angry, and you'll make the best speech you'll ever regret."-- Lawrence J. Peter.

It is funny how much of her had rubbed off on me.. Why didn't her drive rub off on me rather then her anger? I supposed I saw her more as the angry woman then the driven one. I hope she has mellowed. I wish she is more at peace now. For her sake as well as those around her who loves her.

"Anger: an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than on anything on which it is poured."-- Seneca.

As for myself, I have to attempt to master this raging beast within me...before it destroys me...before it destroys the ones whom I love...

"Anger [is a wind which] blows out the lamp of the mind."-- Robert G. Ingersoll.


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10:44 by aberwyn 2 comments

Housemate(s)

incident 1
location: small bedroom
time: about 0300hrs

I was woken up by a long, sad sigh. It sound like it came from a female, a forlorn, despondent sigh. I opened my eyes and looked around groggily. Cats don't sigh and there is no one else living under the same roof as me. I decided that the sigh was from my dreams, so I closed my eyes and attempt to travel back to dreamland to find out. Within a few minutes I heard the long drawn sigh again.. coming from about a metre away from my face. I opened my eyes and stared at the empty space in front of me for a few minutes. Strangely, I didn't feel any fear. I felt drawn to the sigh...I wanted to give her a warm hug and comfort her. I felt a need to make her a cup of tea and give her a listening ear. I wonder what was her grief. I hope she would be well...

------

incident 2
Location: living room
time: about 1900hrs

The leather sofa set in the living room comes with 2 couches and 1 3-seater. As there was not enough space in front of the TV set, couch no2 was pushed over to the area where the living room merged with the dinniing area.

It was one of those rare days that I left office earlier. I reached home at about 1845hrs. After changing into my tees and boxers, I sat down on the 3-seater facing the TV and tucked into my takeaway dinner. I was interrupted by a sneeze coming from the direction of couch no2. I looked up in that direction and noticed that Cat was staring at the empty couch too...

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18:01 by aberwyn 0 comments

I want FASTfood

I was at a Japanese fastfood restaurant for lunch with a few of my colleagues today. I placed my order of a minestrone soup, a unagi rice burger, a piece of fried chicken, a serving of fries, a coke and an apple pie, at the counter. I was given my coke and a number tag and told to take a seat. The rest of my order will be sent to me shortly.

I was sitting there, nursing my growling stomach with a stick of Winston's, carefully avoiding listening to my colleagues(females, of cos) gossiping, for fear that I would say the wrong things in my agitated stage(I swear by the saying "a hungry man is an angry man"). I looked around at the other tables in order to distract myself from my colleagues whining. I noticed number tags on about 80% of the tables and realised that I am in for a long wait for my food...

Why are fastfood restaurants called fast food restaurants when the customers do not get their food fast? You might ask what's my definition of 'fast'. Well, by fast, I mean I am not ready to wait for more then 5 mins for my food. If I am willing to wait for 15min or more for my food, I would go to a true blue restaurant when I get served by waiters. I go to a fastfood chain not because the food is delicious. I go there for a simple reason. FASTfood. I want the food, and I want it NOW! If I want gourmet, I would have gone to a specialty restaurant.

Can the authorities please form a new department to regulate the SLA(service level agreement) of fastfood restaurants? The paper can be called Fastfood Agreement for Speedy Transaction.(Ok..sounds corny, but it's the best I can come up with in this hungry and irritable state)

When the food finally arrived 20min later, my appetite was already killed by 4 sticks of Winston's and my colleagues' incessant bitchings.

Please don't call yourself a fastfood restaurant if you can't deliver your food fast.


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14:54 by aberwyn 2 comments

Hurt

I am still hurting much. Giving love ain't supposed to hurt this much. I always needed to write to heal. But I can't seem to be able to pen it down anymore. I seem to have lost the will to write, the words to express. Maybe deep down inside, I know it is not worthy anymore?

Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise, a first step on the road to recovery.

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19:19 by aberwyn 12 comments