Every Sunday before my volunteering and after my Church service, I usually have about 5 hours to kill. Most of that time is usually taken up by studying or essay writing and thus preventing me from doing other things like wandering and photography. However, due to my ridiculously free exam schedule, i find myself free time to take a day off from the library and actually venture out and take some pictures. To be honest, although I have lived in this city for most of my life, the minute I start walking around and taking snapshots, I begin feeling like the world's biggest tourist. But anyways here are two pictures I took when I was walking around Kensingtons and China Town.

Bucket List - Kinda

A while back I saw the movie The Bucket List which tells the tale of two men suffering from terminal cancer and facing an inevitable early retirement. Thus,  they plan out a dozen or so objectives to complete before time runs out. Some of these objectives include skydiving, racing, and traveling across the world. Although I'm NOT suffering from anything nor am I so depressed that i am already looking towards early retirement, but it seems that time does get quicker as you get older and there are several things i personally would like to get done before... whatever. And as these two men view death as their finish line, I myself at the ripe age of 23 view another finish line that threatens my youth: marriage, career, and inevitably mortgages, kids, and a house in the boonies. To think that only four or five years ago I had just finished High School, I find myself once again graduating soon, and the thought of where I'll be in another five years seems a tad gloomy and daunting. By looking at those around me who are in their late 20s, some of them are married, imprisoned by their jobs, shackled to their kids, convicted to a 5% 15 year mortgage and live a routine nine to five everyday. They live in the boonies, drive a volvo or a Japanese family sedan (hopefully one that has brakes haha) and they go on walks in the weekend to the local park. Don't get me wrong, by no means do i perceive marriage as death or anything remotely like that. On the contrary, as death is the end of life, marriage is also the end of... something. I want to say words like individuality and freedom, but i don't think that would be completely accurate. This is actually a horrible metaphor, or is it a simile? It's a simile. But honestly, between you and me, the thought of all those things listed earlier, maybe not career or mortgage, but yeah the thought... it's incredibly scary. For me, that will my finish line. It is the end point of my youth and the beginning of something completely and utterly terrifying. And so, before this inevitability and 5% mortgage rate dawns on me, i will make my own bucket list. A list that doesn't necessarily affect the course of my life after the finish line nor are they significant accomplishments, but they're simply things that need to be done. And although, some people see this need as foolish, unnecessary, utterly weird and possibly don't understand it, nonetheless I just need to get this done. And so here it is: my own bucket list.

1.  Get a Tattoo
2.  Learn to drive stick
3.  Own a motorcycle
4.  Learn Mandarin and if possible, Korean
5.  Backpack across Europe and China, and eat everything.
7.  Run a marathon
8.  Bungee Jump off Macao's tower - highest bungee jump in the world
9.  Skydive in Australia
10. Try Kobe Beef, Singaporean Bone Marrow (pic above), and the best Sushi i will ever have. 
11. Reach 6 feet and have an awesome BMI
12. Read 1000 books
12. Save someone's life

Ok. So this list isn't completely finished yet, I still need to add several things that i  can't think of at this moment. But yeah, for now this is it.


Couple pictures i took at my cottage. Practicing with DSLR and Photoshop

Mr. Thomson


The first week of fall is always a bit dry and muggy. Streets are littered with leaves, and all you can hear during the afternoon are cars whizzing by and the mid-autumn wind brushing against the trees. The sun sets a lot sooner than usual but the skies are spotted with countless stars, stranded like islands across the blanketed night. But tonight it’s altogether different. Clouds have suddenly appeared and the moon and the stars have lost their usual luster.

On the corner of 6th and 24th stands an old man leaning against side of the newly redesigned Saxman building. He’s in an old worn out gray trench coat, as patches of dirt and stain have collected around the lower brim. His hands are in his pocket shaking and his head is tilted down shielding himself from the wind. From the corner of his eye, he sees two girls slowly making their way down the street towards him. With a swift smooth motion, he moves his right hand to his head and takes off his hat, tilting his head just as they walk past. He's obviously posing. Pretending as if time has winded back and he's still in his late 20s. Smiling, these two walk by without showing the least indication of noticing. He smirks to himself thinking - I've still got it. Effortlessly, a cigarette from his inner breast pocket is lit in a swift uniform motion. By looking at his hands, one sees they’re calloused, showing years of hard work from his days at the factory and his face is lined with age. He inhales slowly and exhales breathing out the smoke into the crisp autumn air. Watching it slowly dissolve and carry into the wind. His watch says it almost half past six, and he's staring at it wondering how much longer he needs to wait. It’s already been twenty minutes and she still hasn’t come out yet. Suddenly he finds himself reminiscing of their first date. It was a night similar to this, cold and a little wet, he walked briskly alongside this young and terribly shy women dressed in a white trench coat with a red scarf wrapped around her neck. He suddenly smiles to himself, remembering what a fool he had been during dinner and how as he walked her home that night, feeling like he would never see her again. But despite all that, as they walked her arms had been clenched around his; both shivering terribly in the still cold night. How the hell did he even end up getting her? And how long has it been now... 25...30...35 years?

It's really dark now, and in the distance street lamps are beginning to flicker. She was pretty though, like really, really pretty. His friends had all wanted to get her, but somehow amidst all the awkwardness he had come out on top. Suddenly the doors beside him creak open and out infront are a pair of black flat dress shoes facing him. "Mr. Thomson, it's getting late and we’re about to close, I’m terribly sorry." He looks up and sees a beautiful young woman with long black hair staring back at him. For a moment he’s confused as he looks at her, but then his eyes widen and he realizes where he is. Without a word, he tilts his head, pulls up his jacket collar and takes another smoke. He turns around and slowly starts walking down the street with his head down facing against the wind, leaves dancing at his feet.

Who was that? – Oh that’s Mr. Thomson. We see him around here several times a month. I remember someone telling me that his wife used to work here a couple years ago, but she suddenly passed away last year..."  

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn trees 

I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

i heart stagnation

I was looking at a friend's blog the other day and came across his post describing 10 things he had learned about himself this past year. Finding it very interesting, i set out trying to compose a list similar to his. Unfortunately, i only came up with seven. Fail. But as I reflect on these 7 attributes, one thing that i noticed is that i haven't really changed all that much since first year. The things i liked and disliked have remained remarkably consistent. Actually, this stagnation, i find it unusually and awkwardly comforting.

1. i don't like tea. Despite the healing component and Asian traditional aspects of it, chai, earl-grey, and even chamomile just seem really bitter to me. The only tea i occasionally enjoy is Milk Tea. Here, copious amounts of milk and sugar is added to cover the natural flavor of the tea, thus making it bearable for me to drink. Even now, i find myself drifting away from the classic BBT as it is being replaced by coffee.

2. i hate being alone.

3. i heart meat. For some reason, i just can't see myself ordering a salad or a veggie sub. And it isn't because i find ordering a salad at a restaurant a waste of money (which i don't think it is), but rather i feel that it somehow emasculates me. However, i will try to absolve my chauvinistic perceptions and tendencies cause i hear greens are in fact - good for you.

4. i love red. A car, a wall, a chair, or even a girl dressed in red, i find nothing as bold, eye catching and attractive.

5. i can't study or do work unless I feel pressured. For some reason unless i'm stressed, i can't just find the means to sit down and focus. However,  I hear that's a good thing though. Studying under pressure actually helps you retain information better.

6. i hate silence.

7. i really, really want to get away.

Matisyahu - Silence

I've been listening to this song for a couple days now and i can't seem to stop.



Aimless Ramble

So i'm sitting down right now, staring at my computer, trying to figure why i started writing this blog in the first place. Years ago, i remember the first few entries were fun, exciting and if not even a little, enlightening and intelligent. But now, as i'm sitting here right now, thinking of something to write, i've realized that, that sense of excitement and wonder has... left me.

But the first couple entries i wrote, it was a feeling reminiscent of the days of my youth. Like jumping the fence at night after quietly sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to go to a friend's house; only to return realizing that my epic escape had been... a complete success. Eventually, this left me smirking the entire morning after, thinking that I was actually able to fool my sucker conservative Chinese parents with my awesomeness. Obviously, all these feelings im describing are all before i subsequently realized 10 years later, that my parents had known all along and even called the friend's parents to make sure i was there. Fail. But my point is, stumbling onto this blog and writing out the things i felt were important and even interesting, it was exciting and new and reminded me of the many fun things i used to do.

The first few entries narrated the details and lessons i had learned throughout my numerous university experiences. Every mishap, every failure, every success, for each one, i would bask in the thought of what i could learn from all this and how i could even eventually grow from it. To be honest, this ability to write and to be heard was something that i felt... proud about. It wasn't so much that people cared about what i wrote about, but that i had this medium to express my every thought and opinion. It was my own personal w/c for the purging and spewing of whatever self-deluded and often inspiring thoughts that seemed to just... ooze out of me.

From the first few months to the first couple of years, i was motivated to write about the stuff of life. Stuff of life haha. I even felt like i was somehow growing from all this and by venting it into this digital receptacle, i was laying down evidence, proving that i was indeed getting stronger and growing wiser.

But in recent years, i've somehow lost that initial joy and motivation i once had to write. As I've continued to read up on the blogs written by friends, they've somehow remained consistent towards laying down montages of their life for the public to read. Some have even branched out professionally, writing about public issues and events they seem to deeply care about. Others have continued to write about their exploits and endeavors, even showcasing certain hobbies and talents they've gained over the years. All in all, they've continued to find joy and passion in their online defecation.

I wonder how they continue to do what they do? Where do they find the inspiration? And lastly and most importantly, why do they continue to care? Right now, I feel like I'm done trying to prove to myself by writing down evidence of my growth, that i have changed and am changing. Lessons learned, sudden reflections and moments of enlightenment, whats the point? What does that even mean anymore: Change? and why is it necessary or important to change, to mature and to grow. And who am i changing into, and who should i be aiming towards changing into? and how do i come up with a standard or a measure of growth?

Sometimes, i just wish i could be that kid sneaking out at 12 or 1 at night. I wish i could
have something to look forward to. I need something to look forward to.