The work ethic

I should remember that no matter what kind of work it is, work by nature is never ever glamorous. The spirit, calling, ambitions, and achievements of work may be so, but what boils the broth at the end of the day is good, sheer old hard work.

Repeat to thyself.

So even if one works at KKR or the Carlyle Group, its still gonna be the same story. Which reminds me to work even harder. But the question is, how the heck do i even get my foot in?

Dream a little dream of he

The days of sweetness may be long gone, a hazy memory of puppy affection, a temporal phase of hormonal drive, perhaps an illusion. The parting a painful riducule, an abrasive divorce of all contact. Yet, you long for a moment, some time, some day, some place in your vision, when you, and him, can sit down in a nice coffee-shop in Manhattan to talk of salad days that have passed. The both of you are laughing over the imbecility of past events, the delight of the company of former acquaintances, and the triviality of failures. You can now rejoice in the trumpets of both your successes, the fruits of both your labors, which are now products of Machiavellian ideals and stragtegic intentions.

You wish for him to embrace your friendship. Maybe the both of you will hug and tell each other that you were sorry. Then you talk about your respective kids an swear to teach them your mistakes. You feel this a great milestone of amelioration. You waited years for this day of spring beginnings to arrive.

But old habits die hard, and deep down in his heart he is still distressed. He hates you with the contempt of bitterness. Like the days of yore and eras of Backstreet Boys, you remain no more than a chess piece to him. It is only in these moments that you can have a piece of him. You realise that really nothing has changed over the years. But you savor every bit of this moment and you yield to his requests. You become the host and he is the parasite. This doesnt bother you. You wanted for this to happen, this day to come. You plotted your way to becoming the host, and he, the cosmos lined in to make him come before you. You think you give to salvage what was torn. Alas, you are deceiving human nature. But still, you wish for this to happen some day, ahead, this is the future, it holds, patiently, in the stars.

Singapore my home

I realised my real reason for making two return plane trips every year on 18 hour flights. Its because I am Singaporesick not homesick!!!

William Jefferson Clinton

I saw former U.S President Clinton at UCLA speaking at a rally for Prop 87 last Friday. The targeted attendance was 200 people but a crowd of 3000 people showed up. A mob of people jostled to the front to catch a better glimpse of him. I must say he is man who looks great for his age. But most of all, his presence was electrifying to the audience.

This man is a political rock star.

Why do i do these things

The second mid-term season has just ended, and I have emerged from the twin flames-unscathed, but near consumed with weariness. I could be resting for half a week or so before the next cycle begins. Logically I could have made things better for myself by kicking the procrastination habit, amongst other things, but what i think is taking up the most time are my extra-curriculars, namely-my sorority commitments, debate, my part-time internship, volunteering, and possibly my pseudo quasi government post (cross-fingers) which may start as early as next week!!

I always wonder why I have the tendancy to get into all sorts of things to keep myself occupied?
Or the more pertinent question is, why am I doing these things when my life could have just been easier. All I need to do is go to school, graduate, get a job and get married like the average women does. Unfortunately this route doesnt appeal to me.

Ambition is a double edged sword, its the fire of my existence, burning the cauldron of my life and spirit, yet always threatening to subvert it by extinguishing my soul. Does it need to matter that I have to be different from other people, when this difference comes at a price?
I generally understand that people like myself are motivated by ambition, and the large prototype is driven by money. But I was never excited by money. Why do I constantly need to be seduced by fame, recognition and the allure of power? I recall the languid days I have, suffering the burden of boredom, and what void that filled me with. Do I really matter in this world that I need to do this much?

my future autobiography

Someday I will write an autobiography about myself.

This could look like the opening page.

To

you who beat me up
you who laughed at my ideas
you who didn't hire me
and you who never wanted to date me..........

This book and I were made because of you.

Do you see yourself in this?

This story belongs to many people.

When this man was a little boy, no one would talk to him, no one would be his friend. People would tease him, make fun of his strange ideas, and never listened to him. Often he was beaten up, and it rendered him almost powerless to control anything.

When he grew up he had a crush on a beautiful girl. She was smart like he was, however she had no interest in him. Instead she became close to one of his jerk classmates, who was better looking than he was.

When the man grew up he became the head of a company that employed many of his childhood bullies, and the girl who had rejected him.

Writing and I-a hate/love story Part Two

In one of my first postings on this blog, ( you can go read the archives) I talked about my hate/love relationship with writing. Two and a half years later, that relationship has yet to fizzle out.

The reason why I am reminded of this relationship has to do with my own fault at not being anal with a particular writing assignment that I was supposed to turn in for my current writing class. I was supposed to write an 8 page literature review- alas, that turned out to be a nightmarish ordeal of looking for sources in support of my reseach proposal on Prostitution. Though I tried hard to avoid plagarism, my devices against the lack of content in my paper constituted of me rephrasing sentences from my sources. Now that my instructor has ordered me to turn in all of my sources, I guess i should be very worried indeed.

What happened to the pleasures of writing during my freshmen year in college where I could write 3 or 4 drafts of a paper instead of just one to be handled in.........

Competitive without Competition

I am sitting in the computer lab of the business school right now, trying to fuse my creative juices into formulating something which doesnt reek of practicality or anything related to the malevolent and mind numbing nature of business school. The only reason why I have to be in this school is because of one of two of my majors-Accounting, and to begin with was the result of parental coercion.

The problem with me is that though I want so badly to be intensely scheming and would like to think of myself as a competitive, cold creature of Machiavellian values, I simply hate the nature of competition. A paradox isnt it? An individual who is competitive by nature who hates competition? Perhaps this has to do with the fact that I really suck at most things that people do. In fact, I can only list a few things that I am better at the general populace, and this does not really count, for I only do better than average only to be beaten by some other individuals.

Such is the nature of the "wheeling-dealing" in our world.

Fighter

When I, thought I knew you
Thinking, that you were true
I guess I, I couldn't trust
'Cause your bluff time is up
'Cause I've had enough
You were, there by my side
Always, down for the ride
But your, joy ride just came down in flames
'Cause your greed sold me out of shame

After all of the stealing and cheating
You probably think that I hold resentment for you
But, uh uh, oh no, you're wrong
'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do
I wouldn't know just how capable I am to pull through
So I wanna say thank you

'Cause it makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
It makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
Makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter

Never, saw it coming
All of, your backstabbing
Just so, you could cash in
On a good thing before I realized your game
I heard, you're going around
Playing, the victim now
But don't, even begin
Feeling I'm the one to blame
'Cause you dug your own grave,

After all of the fights and the lies
Yes you wanted to harm me but that won't work anymore
Uh, no more, oh no, it's over
'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture
I wouldn't know how to be this way now, and never back down
So I wanna say thank you

'Cause it makes me that much stronger
Makes me work a little bit harder
Makes me that much wiser
So thanks for making me a fighter
Made me learn a little bit faster
Made my skin a little bit thicker
It makes me that much smarter
So thanks for making me a fighter

Fighter- Christina Aguilera

I was always the one whom no one wanted to be friends with, was always the one who got teased at school, the one who was made to feel unwelcome and unpopular. The one who got beaten and made to feel powerless. The one whose voice never made resonance to influence anyone's choices. I am the one who got nothing on Valentine's Day.

With every cut I grow stronger, with every smirk I get my head schemes to retaliate, with every rejection my heart gets colder.

My heart that has turned to stone, my thoughts that have turned to schemes and myself that has is created.

Its all because of you.

Pandora's Box-Part Deux

In a strange twist of fate, the knock has come a second time on my door. And while prospects of securing my Pandora's box are not completely definitive, i hope the negotiations would turn out in my favor .