Sorry seems to be the hardest word?

Well, that is according to some, but I don't think so.

Last Saturday, while hanging out with the guys, I went into one rather meaningful discussion with Stripey. We sometimes chat about more cerebral stuff whenever Stripey gets in the mood (I think he's into grown-up and marriage mode - something the rest of us juveniles should seriously give some thought too).

We talked about that important precursor to marriage - the proposal. I think the proposal as we know it nowadays is a modern construct. That means to say that, like the concept of dating, it really is a recent phenomenon (Yes, dating is modern too!). In the past, the proposal took the form of a suitor seeking the permission of the parents of his intended partner to marry (cultural and periodic differences aside, I think this is mostly true). The suitor - oh if you insist - the groom, does not ask the bride directly.

Nowadays, this would be somewhat unromantic. The proposal has morphed to become something more elaborate, something worth remembering... a kind of story that you tell your friends and your children about. In other words, it has to be romantic.

Therein lies the problem with the proposal - the romantic aspect of it. Because the proposal is a romantic occasion (or meant to be so, given today's expectations), it needs to be 'perfect'. The proposal event (I was about to call it 'ceremony') becomes something of a Kodak moment - it cannot be ruined by a rejection.

But you ask - isn't a proposal just something of a question? Surely the proposee reserves the right of refusal. Certainly so - there is no law or doctrine that dictates that a proposal must be accepted. However, there is a certain expectation that she (he?) accepts the proposal - a kind of emotional blackmail takes place whenever one proposes. It is almost as if a 'No' is going to ruin all the effort, all the romance, embarass the suitor in front of the audience he chose to witness the spectacle.

The more spectacular the proposal, the greater the compulsion to say 'Yes I do'. Ironic what a little romance can do to screw you up.

Oh yes, to get more to the point of what I'm leading up to, the proposal is somewhat similar to this other regular occasion. While the proposal has changed from a simple affair to the elaborate set-up it now is, the apology has been much reduced in pomp.

There are cultures where the apology is a truly elaborate affair for the sorry one: Saharan Bedouins require the apologiser to sit in camel dung and recite the Koran; South American pygmies demand that apologies be written out in the apologiser's blood; and when seeking forgiveness in medieval Turkey, one is required to postrate himself before Allah and tremble in reverential awe.

Yup, I made all that up. :) The thing I'm trying to get at is that the apology these days are really too simple: "I am sorry". 'Sorry' is too easy to say - you don't have to mean it, you don't have to be sincere. The Japanese say 'Sorry' like it is a punctuation. 'Sorry' has become a polite word, uttered to make utterances sound polite and sincere.

There's really nothing wrong with saying 'Sorry' and meaning it - I'm always appreciative when one is sincerely sorrowful (incidentally, the words 'sorry' and 'sorrow' have the same root). However, the bone I have with this issue is that the culture in which we all live in now assume that uttering 'Sorry' puts a finality to the issue. It is as if uttering 'sorry' means that all is forgiven, and all should be truly well and forgotten.

That is not so. Depending on the severity of the issue, whether one can forgive or not is hard to say. Despite time, I've not been able to forgive a particular person for a painful past hurt. My feel is that most of us are internally like this too - we may say our bygones and move on, but the memory of the hurt sticks, and it occasionally digs into one's consciousness and causes new pain.

And for the apologist? Culture dictates that the only obligation he has to the wronged person is the common courtesy of saying 'Sorry'. Sure, he may do more to atone for his perceived sin, but the very fact that it was commited in the first instance is testament to the fact that he has no perception of the pain or hurt he can cause. Where an apology isn't accepted, it is now common to label the wronged party as being unkind, being unforgiving. We are conditioned to see that person as reveling in the fact of himself being wronged.

I know my statements are not entirely fair (I apologise, but I don't care if you do accept that apology). There are people who sincerely mean to apologise, and there are those who find it easy to forgive. Life is so much easier to live if we have short memories - there's little history to dwell upon and wallow in.

Perhaps, as apologisers, we should all understand what we are apologising for. As forgivers, we should seek to forget as much as possible. The word 'Sorry' has no meaning at all - don't say it. Do it.

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On that note, my dear, I am sorry for what I have done. However, I hope you are sorry too.

An Aspect of Expectations

Human beings are such selfish creatures.

(Author note: Before I go further, these comments don't apply to you, foccacia... views expressed here are born of the active imagination of a stilted mind)

(Hehe...)

There're so many ways for a person to be selfish, one of which, ironically, is through the setting of expectations.

The ironic bit is that some expectations are born out of good intentions. Supposing that I want you to improve, to perform at a higher level than the one you are at now. What I will do is to set some expectations of where I want to see you at, and thereby, you have something to work towards. It is a kind of win-win situation: I have standards which I want to see in you, and you know where I expect you to be.

However, an expectation, as I have learnt the hard way, is a double edged sword. Much as it serves to set a bar, it also sets a limitation. The expectation may be beyond what my abilities can achieve. The expectation may require too drastic a change in me. What then? It becomes something unattainable. The expectation becomes that little seed, when sown in such lethal ways, which blossom into the bloom of failure known as disappointment.

I don't think we expect people to change - we change our expectations knowing full well that people can't change. So many little hurts, disappointments, and broken promises litter the trash heap of junked expectations. We don't help build people by telling them what we expect of them: we are bringing them down.

Think about it: isn't the expectation a way of saying that you're inadequate now? Won't expectations hobble any dreams, perhaps lower the lofty heights that the 'expectee' might achieve? An unattainable expectation may serve to discourage, while an attainable expectation might mean undermining one's abilities - expectations, after all, aren't made with the expectee's interests at heart.

Therein lies the problem with an expectation - it is selfish. It is a creation of the expector, with little or no consultation from the expectee. Even in the instance where the expectee's opinions are sought, the expectee's views and critique invariably shapes the expector's expectations, whether or not the expectee liked it or not.

In other words, he has been judged even before the formal process (if there's ever such a thing) of expectation setting is concluded.

The question then, is: should we expect anything at all then, knowing that we open ourselves to the possiblity of disappointment, knowing that we limit the achievements we hope to see?

One can only hope (have faith; it is far better this way).

Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps

Perhaps it is much better to throw in the towel, quit trying and admit that "YES! I'm not strong enough. I don't deserve YOU!". But having accepted the lifeline, I acceot that there is an opportunity to change how you feel.

Perhaps you will be impatient, you won't wait. That is fair - I shouldn't be the reason why you're being held back.

Perhaps I'm fundamentally unchangeable. This means that no matter how hard I try, I cannot pass off being something I am not.

Perhaps you've seen me for who I really am: insecure, weak, defective. I am not all these. I am sometimes these and I am sometimes something else. Are you sure you really know me?

Perhaps you will give me a shot at redemption. I wanted to traverse the course with you since the beginning, and you gave me the assurance that you wanted to do the same. Why can't we work together on it now?

Perhaps I shouldn't wonder - what good comes of asking what if? Live life with no regrets, and perhaps 'perhaps' will no longer be a word muttered this often.

I don't have the conviction now. I'll prove to you that there is one.

A fork in the middle of the road

Qn: What do you do when you come to a fork in the road of Life?

Ans: Look for a spoon.

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Well, it isn't funny, of course, but it seems like a large part of my last 2 years of existence have followed that principle: screw the fork in the road, I'll sit on my ass and chew on it.

Not any more.

Life does not wait for one to idle. It does not wait for one to think things through and sit on one's rear end. Life takes the approach of a relentless assault onwards. It forces you to make decisions, and when you don't make those damn decisions (like... left road or right road) it'll take the (likely) unfavourable one for you.

So here I am, led unwillingly along the path of Life, standing at the cusp of no return. The signs that led me along this road were obvious and loud; on my part, I was blind and ignorant, a show of blatant disregard for the obvious. Now I face a difficult task ahead: I have to change or lose that which is so important to me. There is no alternative.

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So, how is it possible to change one's nature? It certainly does not happen overnight, and it does not happen without a fundamental re-wiring of one's internal psyche. My only recourse is to pray about it (God answers prayers). It's not a coward's way out - it really is the best antidote to salve the pain.

Try. I always try. "Do. Or do not. There is no try." so said Yoda.

So right you are.

Why I haven't written

I haven't written in a while... events from the last few weeks have overwhelmed me and I've not had the heart to write anything.

Until today.

What have I been busy with? The first thing to have overwhelmed me was the change I tried to describe in my previous post (on change). Well, being cryptic didn't make me very popular - I think no one would have understood what happened. The big change happening is that I've accepted to do an MBA in January at INSEAD. INSEAD!

It is kind of prestigious - the pedigree of the students there alone is fantastic. Having had a brief run-through of the student profiles, there are a lot of consultants, investment bankers and some such in the course. There're also the technical folks - your engineers and IT professionals - and the somewhat less often seen ex-military or ex-police person.

Having decided to do the MBA meant a whole slew of things to be done: I needed to sort out my finances and take a loan to finance the MBA - it is tiring to call banks asking about interest rates and loan tenors. It is also tiring persuading friends to be guarantors - that is probably the hardest part.

Doing an MBA also meant quitting the job: I've decided that an LOA (Leave of Absence) is out of the question. The firm needs to justify keeping me; rather, it needs me to justify it for them. And I don't think I'm up to it. I have thought about an exit for so long, and this is the best I've had so far. I'm leaving - but I might be back, so never say never. (I will so miss my colleagues - all in, they're the best people that I've had to work with, ever).

As if I'm not having enough worries, the project I was on finally decided to kick into 2nd gear. A real pain in the neck, this project. Now, I've had to organise sessions to review my design, listen to nonsense about how bad or good my design fits the business model, review and re-design, log issues and generally get shot for shoddy work (at times). However, through it all, I've felt comforted that the users appreciate the effort - they have a generally good feel about where we have progressed.

However, I wished I was on the project full-time though - that would have made things easier. As it is, I've also had to go for in-camp training for 3 weeks in Tuas - a major schedule wrecker of a reservist. Being on reservist meant that the social life is ruined: Book in at 3pm, leave the next day at 4.30pm. What can one do with the time in between? It's like what one of the guys said: it's a bu4 san1 bu2 si4 (Chinese for not 3, not 4) kind of timing.

So there: MBA, project, reservist. Project and reservist I can't do anything about: after all, I'm quitting, so the project's drain on my body is only until mid-Dec. After that, whether the project is chugging along nicely (or dead to the water) is not my concern anymore. Reservist has to be served - and it meant time away from work, so it isn't such a bad thing totally.

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The above matters aren't so bad. However, another big thing happened yesterday which really saddened me: the GF wants to break up. :(

It seems like there are fundamental problems in our relationship, and even though we love each other dearly, the problems we have now might mean that we will never have a meaningful long term relationship, i.e. a marriage meant to last.

She feels that I'm not spiritually mature... I don't have the strong Christian conviction which she is looking for in a husband. It's true in a sense: I've not lived as a good Christian person for a long time, and it isn't fair to have us marry if I can't lead the family we eventually build in a Christian way of life.

To be fair, I was a good Christian once. I remember myself being diligent with my quiet time, and being faithful in my walk with Christ - it was the period of my life when I was attending JC. I was fervent, but I was no evangelist (I've never been one). I also participated in church, serving in the youth fellowship committee.

Things changed when NS started. Things really changed when I went to Uni also. I think those were the formative years of my adult life - they shaped me to become more or less what I am today.

But the weak Christian in me isn't the only aspect of our failure in this relationship: we've lost that spark somewhat. That initial surge of optimism, passion, and faith in things to come. The feeling that we've found that someone special.

I tried to re-create some of it for her birthday: she wept. I hope she was touched by what I did. (still sorry about what else I did though...)

On her birthday, she suggested we break up. The world came crashing down; the legs became weak. Information which came to me while I was in-camp, and all I could do in response was stare at the sea for a whole 2 hours (an hour each before/after dinner). Called a close friend who comforted me somewhat with her views (jaded as she is, she is not me) but did not salve the pain.

Is there any salvaging this relationship?

If she needs me to be a better person, can I change?

I know one thing for sure: I really do love her and I want to do what I can to keep us going.

So lost... so lost...

Can you spare some change?

Delirium says in her orange voice balloon: When you say words a lot they don't mean anything. Or maybe they don't mean anything anyway, and we just think they do.

Being a purveyor of change (in my line of work), it was with some surprise that I found myself in a reactionary mood when given the chance to change. I've been given a ticket out of purgatory that is my job; instead of jumping for joy at the prospect, I've been racked with by hesitation and... the fear of change.

Ultimately though, I've decided to go for it. It is a good change after all, and it means I come out of it (hopefully) a better person. This journey of change will begin with the new year, and it will be the first time I've made a move out of my current job situation.

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It is understandable that we all fear change to some degree - I've always advocated change if it was for the better, or was necessary for improvement in the current circumstances. My change though, won't improve current circumstances in the short term. It will, in fact, be really hard to cope with for a year or so.

The truth for me is, if I don't change, I'll die. No, I won't die literally, but I will die spiritually. The longer I stay in my current steady state, the more I find myself dug further into a hole, stuck like that frog at the bottom of the well, entrenched like a World War One infantryman. I believe that we do not play dice with God - if He gambles big, so do you. And that's where I am - I'm putting everything on the line for this one.

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Caution is a bane - it binds you to a set of principles you've defined to limit yourself. Caution is option - the option to back down, take the well-trodden approach. Caution is to live like today will be repeated tomorrow, tomorrow being as certain to turn out the same as today.

Caution is also living to expectations, doing enough to meet demands. Caution is to regard change as the work of the devil - what good is there in uncertainty? Can you measure it? Cautiously?

Tread with care and you'll dread to bear (the pain).

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A wise man told me once: God gave us free will because He loves us as a father loves his children. It would have been so much easier for God to have been absolutely dictatorial in His creation - rob us of free will and reign over our lives, dictating every move from the point of creation till the end of time. But what good is that to his creation, if they can't chart their own destiny? Humans would never have learnt to explore and experiment, and they would never have found God on their own.

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The most absolute form of love you can give your children is to set them free - give them that opportunity to explore and experiment. Advise, but don't dictate - for isn't that what God does? Prayer to God isn't about making demands or prostating oneself in deference to a mighty being. Prayer is about communication and hearing the voice of reason.

I think we ultimately choose our destiny - though it does appear there is someone to guide us along.

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If a chance for change should come your way, jump at it with all your heart and don't look back. If I don't change, I might as well die for lack of enthusiasm. It may be a black hole now, but you might come out the other side pleasantly surprised.

I don't want to play dice twice.

It's fine except that it never happens

I had my encounter with the Exception Monster today.

See, the first thing about our line of work is that there will always be exceptions. Exceptions are those things which nobody wants to really care about, but some stupid user will bring up nonetheless.

Exceptions are those things which some people insist can happen, and will happen, and must happen just to prove that they will and can happen. I have this nagging suspicion that these exceptionistas create the scenarios for exceptions to happen just to prove a point.

See, most people don't want to build complicated system processes just so that you can take care of that once in a year exception. Why? Because most people pay good money for complicated system processes. For that once in a blue moon thing? Don't bother - cross that bridge when you come to it. However, more than one client that I've been to insist on getting that 'bang for the buck', and so exceptions need to be handled.

These irritating exceptionistas don't have half a brain: Its either "Cater for it! I don't care how!" or "Document the exception handling processes, all 20,000 of them". I'm sick of it all - the world isn't ending just because your stupid exception is not being handled. And please wipe that stupid smirk off - I am not really impressed that you're able to find exceptions to throw in my face; I'm appalled that you're not helping with the situation by screaming at me about it.

Anyway, it never ends and that's why I sometimes hate system implementation. No matter what you do, and no matter how much you try, you WILL leave shit behind, and someone else has to clean it up. There are just too many things to juggle, and invariably, some unfinished business gets left behind, tucked nicely away for some unsuspecting soul.

Exceptions are one of those things I'm fond of sweeping under the carpet, so good luck to whoever's looking under the carpet! (you have my sympathies)

(Note: reproduced this post from my post here)

You can't win this battle

2 weekends ago, an event occurred which spelt tragic consequences for the rest of my life. It was to cause never-ending grief, locked in an eternal battle against relentless enemies. And yes, it was to make me enemies in places where I never previously thought possible. It was too late for regrets - the doorway has been walked through and the door slammed shut behind me. Locked in, I have no chance to reverse the chain of events which have led up to where I am now.

Oh, that event? I collected my newly purchased car.

:)

Yup, sure I'm now a happy car owner, but I've made enemies. Presenting here, in no particular order (though they are all annoying and irritating to different degrees), the rogues' gallery:

1. Trees - My tree hugging days are over. Trees mean leaves. Leaves fall when the wind blows, and this means leaves can fall on my car. Add in rainwater and damn do they stick like superglue. It is a nightmare walking towards my car and seeing the profusion of yellow and brown leaves plastered all over. No, I don't really need trees for shade - I don't often drive around noon anyway.

And the worst part about leaves? Those buggers can find their way into every nook and cranny of your car. I've had to dig them out of spots where my pinky couldn't even fit in. The moment I dig a leaf out, some other leaf manages to dig its way in. Argh...

2. Birds - These... these... fowl beasts. I don't think I need to describe the indignity of what these... fowls can inflict on one's precious. (oh do curb that Gollumic behaviour). White, brown shitstains with a touch of the acidic. The worst is when they land on windshields - the shit trails (depending on how wet they are) are just plain horror to clean off.

I keep wet tissue packets picked up from restaurants for the sole purpose of wiping fowl shitstains. And I'm already running out (four shitstains cleaned thus far - I'm an unlucky guy).

3. Lorries (and other big vehicles) - They go slow. They don't signal. I'm impatient. They're a nuisance. They don't look out for the little guys. They're big and they block my view.

Ok, I'm just impatient.

4. Hurricane Katrina, Saddam Hussein, OPEC, George Bush, the Middle East, Muslim militants etc - if nothing other than for the fact that all of the above tend to inflict upward trends onto oil prices. I should not pay THIS much for dead dinosaur mulch.

5. Rain - The worst thing the weather can do to a black car is to rain on it, then cook it dry. Something about the rain we have in Singapore is that it leaves behind this white residue-y stuff which clings onto a car and forms a film of whiteish stains. The only hope of salvation is for the next heavy rain to wash them off (with fingers crossed that this one doesn't leave white stains too).

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I think the battle with the elements of nature is one we are bound to lose - the car will always get dirty. I've realised that the moment I cleaned the car, I'm inviting a whole new host of dirt and other undesirables to invade my car. It is the leaves that are especially annoying - they find their way into the unlikeliest places, stick in there, rot, and refuse to leave.

In any case, if you do see a shitstained rain-splattered Mitsubishi Lancer with leaves stuck on like post-it pads zipping around with an SFY plate, be sure to wave --- it could be me. :)

Be with Me Part 2 - Where is the Love?

Be with Me has the trademarks of an Eric Khoo film - the nymphet, the ghost, the despairing man, the down and out lowly-educated guy, the suicide case, the mother figure.

Remember 12 storeys? Nymphet - Lum May Yee (yummy - she looked real delicious in that film). Ghost - er... you know that guy who killed himself in the beginning of the film? He's also the suicide case. Despairing man - ooh, too obvious to miss this one, go watch the film again.

Be with Me: Nymphets (!!!) - Ezann Lee and Samantha Tan (and I thought at least one of a pair of lesbians has to be a butch; how unfair to men). Ghost - the despairing man's wife, who died in a nursing home. Mother figure - Theresa Chan, deaf, blind and expressive, her thoughts on love are beautifully crafted. Suicide case - lesbian loses love and tries to kill herself. Down and out guy - security guard lusting for some of Lynn Poh.

Ed note: Hmm, there's too much name dropping back there.

In any case, I liked the idea of having Theresa's text from her book typed into the subtitles, without any voice over. For once, I truly focused on her thoughts and her recollections of her life - without her talking about it. One reads it in the text, with the subtlety all in the scene being played out.

And isn't it somehow familiar to see Ezann get jilted like this? Unrequited love - I think we've all gone through it at some stage of our life, but to feel it so poignantly in smses is something new. Our modes of communication has changed so much that one experiences real pain when one sends an sms... and the reply never comes back.

'Be with me my beloved love, so my smile will never fade'

Be with Me Part 1

I saw Eric Khoo's Be With Me today by myself.

Actually, I was glad that I saw it alone - I couldn't bear with having to discuss it with anyone at all; this thought having come out of what I heard as I left the cinema.

"That scenario will never happened" - it's a movie, so enjoy the movie for what it is, don't diss it for an improbable 'scenario'. Yes, I know it is unlikely that a girl committing suicide will end up hitting someone below (well, she should have looked, etc), but heck, it's part of the plot. Do try to say something more intelligent next time.

"Ezann's uniform didn't look right - I think that JC's skirt has a pleat" - Haha its the first time I've met a JC uniform purist. He thinks the uniform is somehow wrong (oh, is it the wrong shade of green?) and couldn't stop describing it to his friend.

"That woman playing the deaf and blind woman didn't act like a deaf and blind woman" - Bimbo of the night said something as silly as that. With all the publicity this movie has been getting, you would think that all Singapore knows that Theresa Chan was... well, played by Theresa Chan, a real-life deaf and blind woman. I think she was being herself - especially when playing a deaf and blind woman. Didn't the words "Inspired by the Story of Theresa Chan" appear in big bold arial font at the commencement of the movie? Oh, even better still, didn't the name Theresa Chan appear in the credits?

People should quit acting intellectual; I would have hated discussing this movie with anyone at all, because:
a) I'm going to hear about that lesbian kissing scene
b) I'm going to have to cringe at talk of 'what it all means'
c) someone's going to say 'Nobody really understands Eric Khoo like I do'
d) someone will think he's wasted his money
e) a certain friend would preferred to have seen less brainy fare - the Longest Yard for example ;)

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To be honest though, I would rather have seen the movie with a friend. The GF is out of town and it was too late to call someone (anyone at that point) out. And another night having dinner with my dad and mom would have driven me nuts (I need time away from my parents - they suffocate).

On the other hand, watching a movie is mostly a solitary experience. You pay an exorbitant price to sit in a comfortable seat, eyes riveted to the big screen watching drama unfold. Unless you're in the cinema to make out or snuggle with a loved one, you're unlikely to have much interaction with anyone else, save for the occasional comment shared or elbow being nudged.

It was with this ideal that I spent a lot of time during my uni days watching movies by myself. About a third of the movies then were watched alone, with nary a friend accompanying. Frankly, it would have been difficult getting someone to come along sometimes - I wanted to watch the less mainstream stuff (it's mostly to indulge the perceived arty side of myself; arty being a misnomer, I realised).

It's with this thought that I urge you to do this the next time you watch a film such as Eric Khoo's (whether it be the raw gritty Singapore film-maker kind or the pretentious arthouse Wong Kar Wai-esque kind or the Zhang Yimou pretty colourful sights kind):

Don't discuss the film.

Just remember it for what it showed you, and the story it was trying to tell. Your memory of it suffices - the words of another just taints the picture you have drawn of it.