My Red Sleeping Bag

I was staring at my paper airplane thinking how could I make this thing fly better? See there's this nice hill which kind of drops into an "almost cliff-like" angle (followed by this huge plateau) near my house and at about 1pm, has a lovely thermal floating up it. Perfect for throwing paper planes.

I know this is kiddish and geeky but it's hella fun okay?

So I designed a paper plane which rides thermals pretty well. About 1 to (8-12) gliding ratio (variates depending on the paper I use and wing angles). See I used to be really into origami so give me 20 pieces of A4 paper and I'll be able to fold you 15+ different kinds of airplanes. And a box. And a crane. And a flower. And a snowflake. And a boat. And stop looky here I'm outta paper.

So at noon some days when I'm feeling really bored, I'll take a bunch of paper and start folding. By 1 I'll have about 12 planes. Then I'll bunch them up, being careful not to disturb the trimming, pitch stability, elevator adjustments, and hike up the hill. (Yes, believe it or not paper planes have their own scientific terms). I'll let you know that doing all the above plus not slipping is actually quite hard.

Most people know I'm not geeky; just knowledgeable (I hope). Sometimes I do wonder what people think though, seeing a kid who's 17 but looks older, carrying a huge bunch of planes up a hill.

I'll then proceed to throw all of them "down", watch them float up, and catch them if they come back. It's really cool when you throw a plane off a cliff with a thermal. It glides towards the edge and when it hits the thermal, whooooooooooooosh it flies up. Once it's escaped the thermal it'll fly in any direction it sees fit, albeit now between 20-100 feet higher than if you'd thrown it at night. Beautiful.

Anyways that's what I was thinking.

Right now I'm thinking this:

I love rock climbing. Now get this. Rock climbing is not a delicate sport. A lot of climbers develop arthritis in their fingers.

Oh and I love parkour. Which is NOT delicate. Very controlled, but not delicate.

And I love magic. (Make a guess. Delicate or not delicate)

Now they fall on opposite sides and I prolly can progress in all of them at the same time, but God I pray that there wont come a time when I have to choose between them. Because I don't think I can. And I sure as heck dont want to be a jack of all trades, master of none.

I guess I'll just have to be like my paper plane. I'll throw myself off a cliff (Figuratively), fly up between 20 and 100 feet, and then from there go in whatever direction I see fit.

Or I might fall.



>By now you are prolly thinking, "What on earth does this have to do with the title?!" Your answer?

Nothing.

This was just one of those posts where I wrote it first planning on titling it later, only to find out I had NO idea what to title it. So I named it what I was looking at. My red sleeping bag (thus the red font). Sure I could have used "Paper Planes" or something like "A Decision to Make" but it just wasn't original.

Now on to Tapah, where I shall use my red sleeping bag. I'll even come back and post about it (the sleeping bag). I promise.

(Yes, this is random)

What I'm feeling

Exactly why I am feeling whatever I am right now is not the topic of this post. The topic is simply, what I’m feeling. Duhh.

Some emotions are complicated, and require an endless pondering to decipher.

Others are simple; like simple enough to sum up in a few words.

I’m effing pissed.

See? Simple emotion. Nothing complicated to it at all, other than the fact that I’d rather be experiencing a happy, though complicated emotion.

So I’m effing pissed, though I’d really rather not be.

Why am I pissed? It’s because I’ve been unjustfully shoved out of the way. It kinda feels like one of those little kids who stalk a red ant and when the time is opportune, flick it off the edge of a fence or something else that’s equally high and watch it flail on the way down. Now the only problem with that grammatically skewed scenario is that I’m the bloody red ant. And I didn’t even bite anyone! Here I was happily crawling along the edge, da dum da dum, *Flick*, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah – splat.

So I’m effing pissed and though I’d really rather not be, I feel like a red ant which is now a blot on the floor.

It’s like getting an electric shock. It’s called a shock because you don’t expect it. It just happens. Zap! And you’re left with a sore, slightly burnt, and horrible feeling finger or whatever appendage it was.

So I’m effing pissed and though I’d really rather not be, I feel like a sore and slightly burnt red ant which is now a blot on the floor.

Don’t you hate it when you miss a step? One minute you’re happily (albeit preoccupied) walking and then whoosh the floor seems to disappear under your feet. You might or might not slam something into the ground depending on how quick your reaction time is, but you nevertheless feel either stupid or embarrassed. Now it all has to do with trust. We trust our feet to hit the top of the step and propel ourselves up; like when your friend offers you a seat, you trust that the seat bloody stays there. I feel like the seat has been pulled away at the last second, thus acquainting my posterior with the floor. Now sure it might all be in good humor, but it still hurts like crazy.

So how do I feel?

I’m effing pissed and though I’d really rather not be, I feel like a sore and slightly burnt red ant which has missed a step and whose posterior has met the acquaintance of the floor which it is now a blot on.

See? Simple emotion.

Mole Station

There’s no easy way to say this. There might be a harder way, but there’s certainly no easy way. So I guess I’ll just have to say it.

I… errrr…. I… I….. I’ve been… uh… been….. molested.

There.

I said it.

I was molested by a “friend” of mine named (Undisclosed) who’s also known to have molested 7 others. I’m not alone!

Yeah and there you were, happily sitting behind your keyboard thinking that blind dates were dangerous.

It happened with no warning. It happened out of the blue. It happened sometime during the day though I only found out about it at night when he smsed me telling me so. And because I’ve been molested, I’ve now got an insane compulsion oozing out from the bottom of my, uh…. well... erhhhh… heart (what were you thinking?!) to write about four things I love and four things I hate.

No, no, no not thaaaaaaat kind of molestation. What on earth made you think that?

In all truthfulness, I’ve been molested tagged by ma buddy Sean (How cud you!). It effectively cuts down the trauma and recovery time while still getting me to write about 4 things I love and loath.

Now without further delay:

I Love parkour. Most of you who know me will have realized by now that my hyperactive (when not emo) lifestyle has been channeled into the discipline that is parkour. Through it I have come to be more self aware, more analyzing, more in control of my emotions, more in control of my movement, more positive, more confidant, slightly more altruistic, and always seeking self improvement (just to name a few). From the utilitarian point of view you might argue that the qualities listed have nothing to do with parkour itself. From my personal experience though, parkour was the catalyst that helped bring about these changes. That’s why I said “through parkour”.

But enough rambling.

I Hate it when people put on a façade in front of me. I just can’t stand it when someone puts up a front to be “cool”. The only cool people I know are those who are truly themselves in front of me, doing nothing to try to impress me. I’m impressed by sheer honesty, or rather the lack of trying hard to impress me (and so the “irony gods” smile). As a result cool people come few, far, and hard for me. But I’ll be honest. It is something of a battle within myself too; the need to impress. And I know for sure that there is someone on the opposite side of the world, who’s going to read this, and who’s feeling exactly the same way I do (nudge nudge). I always wonder, is it simply me being many people, or are there many ‘me’s?

I Love deep conversation. Though getting harder to come by in these days and these parts, I still cherish it, and will cherish it till the day I take my last breath. This is probably related to my draw towards honesty. And for you hopefuls out there, just to let you know, I don’t care if you’re hotter than a Mexican burrito tied to an acetylene torch; if we can’t talk deep, you’re out.

Hmmmmm…. That was perasan.

I Hate my nightmares. And by hate I mean the “despise and detest with all my spleen heart” kind of hate (still haven’t read that John Donne thing). Some of you already know that I don’t sleep well because of a constant plague of repetitive nightmares. The rest will know now. Pick an episode between one and fifty and you have an instant terror that’s been washed, rinsed, and repeated. And if I’m not having a nightmare, I’ll be having a lucid dream. Now those are fun but we all know that you wake up at the end of one. That effectively means that I don’t get good rest anyway. I wouldn’t really mind if they’re all lucid but URGH stupid nightmares. I think they call them that cause they’re supposed to be scary. Why is it that even though it’s the 100^th time I’m having the same nightmare, I’ll still wake up either sweating or scared shitless in catatonic terror? You’d think I’d get bored but noooooooo, nature meticulously crafts certain fears in such a way that I can’t overcome them. If I told you about all my dreams you’d probably find my lucid dreams scarier (oh what my evil little mind can come up with when offered the possibility of defying reality) but to me, nightmares are exactly that which they are. Nightmares. You might think I’m being funny about this or something but that’s only because the majority of you have never seen me scared. Nervous, maybe. Scared, no. Now catch me waking up from one of those and you’ll know what I’m like when I’m scared shitless.

I Hate nightmares.

I Hate nightmares.

I Hate nightmares.

Just kidding… I can deal with it.

I think.

I Love magic. Come on, you knew this was coming. All those hours of practice are made worth it with a single success. Sure I still get caught on the rare occasion but most of the time? Oh darn the look on your face where’s my camera I have to get a picture of that it looks so effin funny I wish you could see it! No offence or anything. I mean come on, its equal trade. The way I see it, you get entertained, and so do I. Sure you walk away feeling stumped and I’ll do likewise but feeling smug, but I still think it’s a fair trade. Haha. It’s just so fun to know that you are the sole cause of whatever reaction your audience is giving you atm, whether it be applause, laughter, or shocked silence.

I Hate intransigent/dogmatic people (people who insist on being right). Cynical is fine. I’m cynical. But please for the sake of everyone else like me, don’t fool yourself into thinking that you know everything, cause you don’t - Period. And when you realize that you’re losing an argument discussion, don’t “bow out graciously (trip, bonk, splat)”. Admit it. And don’t ever act like you’re right or know more just because you’re older. I’d like the scientists at NASA to say that to the 15yo kid who cracked their servers and commented on the source code of one of their multi billion dollar projects, describing it as “flawed”. Brilliant. Now I’m starting to sound like a young, dogmatic kid who thinks he knows best just cause he’s perceptive. Seriously though, we got something to learn from everyone. Don’t close your mind to new thoughts just because they’re coming from someone you’re not tight with. Agree with ‘em or no, remember that all truths are to a certain degree subjective. That includes your truths.

I Love the people that I am tight with; some of my family, some of my friends, simply those that are close. I would not be the person I am today if it were not for ya’ll. The choices I’ve made and the choices you have; It’s all lead up to the person I am today. Now I know I’m far from perfect but I don’t think I’d give up any part of my life for anything else (except those nightmares). Even then, they’ve granted me a certain degree of maturity which prolly could not be wrought from anywhere else. Oh, yeah, back to ma buddies. Basically what I’m saying is that without the bunch of you I’d be a much sadder, less social, computer screen hugging kid who was uh… sad, not really social, and computer screen hugging. (Detachedly observes some of you sheepishly stop hugging their keyboards) Of course those aren’t exactly the ideals I hold dear to me but… No… That’ll be for another post. Anyways, if I haven’t already said so, I’d like you to know that I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I love ya’ll!

*Sigh, I just noticed I’ma end with a hate this way. So depressing*

I Hate people who expect respect from me where it is not due. If you are a stranger, I’ll treat you with a stranger’s respect. If you are an adult, I’ll treat you with the respect you deserve, not the respect you can commandeer. If you’re a peer, I’ll treat you with the same respect I’d treat an adult with. If you’re a friend I’ll treat you with every respect you can hold (great being my friend huh). If you’re a kid, I’ll treat you like a runt. Crike did I actually type that out loud?! Nahhh I’m just kidding. In all seriousness, a particular 13yo buddy of mine (you know who you are) has managed to hold more respect in my eyes than many other adults simply because he’s saved my ass more times than Britney Spears has shaken hers (nudge poke nudge [my friend, not Britney Spear’s ass]). The same goes to everyone really. You get the respect you deserve so don’t expect more when you haven’t done anything to earn it. Sorry if I come off as offensive but no matter who you are, I treat everyone as an equal until they’ve shown me otherwise. Besides, what makes you deserve more respect anyway? I’ll treat you when and where respect is due, and in the areas which it is due. Don’t be getting a bloated head like me.

Anyways now that I’ve gotten that outta my system, I get to molest 8 people!

Sarah W (you know you want to)

Daniel T from church

Eugene from the drums

Leanne (happy belated bday!)

Jon on his guitar

Hannah from behind the plush black leather chair with the psych degree asking me "so how does that make you feel?"

Julia behind the mic

Lewis from the toilet =D

P.s.

>Sean I'm not doing all those tags now. Some other time. Haha

>Just discovered I've been tagged by Huey Sing too. Haiz too lazy to re-write. Sorry...

Murphy's Law

Pull the pin, throw the grenade.

Pull the pin, throw the nade.

Pull the nade, throw the pin.

April's Fool

Look carefully into a mirror everyday and you'll soon discover that the person gazing back at you, always changes.

One day, Charming.
The next day, Sullen.
One day, Eccentric.
The next day, Jaded.


A soldier will gaze at his reflection and see the horrors he had faced, endured.
And whether or not he is better from it, does not matter.

A conqueror will gaze at his reflection and ponder on the horrors he has caused.
And whether or not he is better from it, does not matter.

An old man will squint at his reflection and remember all the choices he made in his life.
And whether or not he is better from them, does not matter.

A child will stare at his reflection and might, just might, wonder at what is to come.
And whether or not he is better of from his speculations, does not matter.


And why does it not matter?
Because they are only reflections.
Ghosts.
Representations of what we think we are.

But what are we in the end?
Are we what we see in the mirror?
Reflections clouded and tinted by the echoes of life?
Misrepresentations wrought by wishful thinking?

Or are we, simply;
What we choose to be.


If so, then we must choose with deliberated haste,
For apathy would be a death of sorts.

And so I'll choose not to be the fool in the mirror that which I saw.