The actual actualizations of actuallies.

Actually I never intended this protracted hiatus from my blogging world.

My ‘blogging world’, which became a staple diet of my nightly – or sometimes daily – things to do have always been my tome of life experiences which I chronicle arduously, but sometimes things have a way of panning out in a near perfectly and accidentally architectured events that it can be likened to a blithe theory gone blissly viral and I actually went away from it.

Ok, whatever that means right, and so why did I come back?

Wait! When did I ever ‘leave’, if I could actually be pardoned for using that jargon here? No, I never did left, cos I simply was, and really really actually, absorbing it all.

Well, long story short, things in my life fell perfectly in place and i could never have planned it better.

You know, like how sometimes you’d wonder to yourself, while you’re trimming away the awful protruding hair from your nostrils in the bathroom mirror, what it could have actually been had you did some things in a certain way.

Or perhaps how things could have actually been if you had had your way with words.

How often have we told ourselves, secretly and regretfully, of how we actually could have done things we didn’t do, or how actually we could have said words we never spoke, or – the mother of all actuallies – how we could have splurged our love on those we truly love but only to pull back in fear of what might have been?

Granted, life is too precarious to be living precariously, but in actual fact, isn’t life too short to be living in a ‘what could have actually been’ world?

From getting a much deserved break at the office to the long awaited love of my life, my world, of which I shall term as the actual actualizations of actuallies, is blithe, and – of which I consider to be quite an achievement – I’m back blogging.

And boy, there’s so many things to share with you.

Cue, smilies.

Moving on.

Life is a river of chaos and an ocean of madness.

You know, every time I try to blog open up a new canvas to splash my incandescent thoughts into comprehensible words, they almost always end up being thrashed away and deprived of any recognition, before I realise that it’s getting late and that I probably needed to rest my head down for the night.

Unfortunately, it’s been that way for most nights and as a result, this blog seems blighted with a hiatus of some sort.

It wasn’t helped that I was being recalled for my National Service (NS) duty for half a month, as well as recursively giving the office a visit to soothen the chaos there.

My NS Stint was a very welcomed one and despite being physically exhaustive, I thoroughly enjoyed the sessions with the boys, if compared to the mentally exhaustive baggages at work.

NS wasn’t that bad after all, and I actually feel like I’ve just returned from an overdue holiday and it feels as if I’m recharged like a brand new me.

So, as you’d have already found out, it’s not just the ‘me’ inside that’s feeling brand new, but this blog’s cosmetics too!

Just for the records, ‘Oel Ngati Kameie‘ is Navi language for ‘I See You’, and in case you didn’t knew, I’m a rabid Avatar fan and am guilty as judged.

Or is the term guilty as charged? Bah, penalise me..

It’s 2011, and we’re nearing the end of February already, but why does it seem so fast?

Like it was only yesterday that I met new faces, found old friends and lost dear ones, of which I dare say pretty much summed up my 2010 for me.

Indeed if there was only one word for me to describe 2010, it’d have to be ‘lost chances’ — okay, bite me, so what if they are two words?

Compared to 2009, where I started to dive into almost every subject that I came across, 2010 was a year where I delved ignorantly head first, subscribing to a mixture of much anguish and memorable joys.

It was a year where I learnt to live for today, today and today.

I was determined to not go into tomorrow with a ‘what-if’ or a ‘if-only’ in my head.

2010 was a year where I invested heavily, both financially and emotionally, a phase where I crashed and burned continuously, and a period where I traded archaic naiveness with a broken heart, but unlike with broken bones, trudgingly one is still able to meander the course of life!

And I nearly lost everything as I lost my footing, but that’s just me being overly dramatic of my fortunes then, or was it misfortune?

Anyways, I loved 2010 for being what it’s been and as I clutch on dearly onto my bundle of blemished and blessed experiences, I crave for what 2011 may offer me.

Be it for better or worse, indeed noone knows what the future will bring, but one thing for sure, if one paddles not, then the current decides the fate.

It’s a river of chaos and an ocean of madness, but everything will be alright.

Just don’t stop paddling.

The Fortune Teller: He Couldn’t See It Coming.

A certain Jeet Singh walked into the office at what would have seemed to be the right time, as the colleagues are all away in Ipoh for a wedding.

I was serving another customer but this ragged man,  with overgrown grey beard and curly grey hair patiently waited for me, before he showed me his extended namecard, which was the size of a regular wallet and it was actually a laminated piece of paper.

He wore a smart looking, pressed shirt and light grey pants, and sort of walked and talked funny.

He mentioned that he was from Bombay and said that he’s a fortune teller, when I asked if he was looking for anything to print.

Naturally, like anyone who’s trying to watch the Avatar movie in the office (when customers are gone) would have, I would have chased politely ushered him to the nearest MRT station but something he said made me ponder.

“You have good face. Lucky face.You work good, you like. But your heart not here.” — I had to take a second, third and fourth look at this fella.

The words he used were cliche, and were like copywriting 101, where any good copywriter will use them weapons against you.

It’s that effective, so I listened further to this fella.

Okay firstly, I believe in luck, but fortune telling, to me, is more entertainment/gimmick than a blueprint to live your life.

But it’s boring in the office, and this was something different anyway.

So we took a seat, and he started to do his thing, like writing stuffs on a piece of paper, which we later tore up, and him writing the usual stuffs here and there.

I would not be so freaked out if not for something that occured at the end of his ‘show’, but in the beginning everything flowed naturally.

For starters, he told me to write a few things on a small piece of paper and he wrote something on another smaller piece of paper.

At this point, we didn’t see what both of us were writing, after which we folded our papers, twice, and exchanged them, where he beckoned me to keep his folded paper in my pocket, while he shredded my piece of paper right in front of me.

It was now in really small unrecognisable pieces, and before I could check if it was really mine (in full suspicions of how these gimmicks usually use proxy for maximum effects) he passed it back to me and told me to put to one side.

So we went back and forth and gradually he revealed bits and pieces of my information, that were written on my small piece of paper, like my date of birth, a girl’s name (heh), and some other numbers, and it wouldn’t have bothered me if not for the fact that everything he mentioned was the stuffs that I wrote on the piece of paper.

Lucky? Maybe, but definitely sneaky. (Did I mention that when I passed him my folded piece of paper he tore it up instantly?)

Just wow. Freaky Saturday afternoon indeed, and up to this point, I was already entertained and even if I wasn’t an advocate of fortune telling, his predictions were catching up on me.

The crescendo of his performance has yet to come. He saved the best for last.

Remember at the start the piece of paper that he wrote, and then passed to me, which I kept in my pocket?

Okay, towards the end of the ‘show’, he told me to pick 4 numbers from one to nine, and pick a colour.

So I RANDOMLY plucked the numbers and the colour and he asked me if these numbers had any relation to anything, but I insisted that they were totally random.

I thought I’d just given this guy a hard time, and he finally couldn’t ‘decode’ my mind, but I was wrong.

Yep, if you can’t guess by now, those very numbers, that very colour which I RANDOMLY picked off my mind towards the end (after a good 10 mins or so), was actually written in his piece of paper at the very start, and all the way they were in my pocket!!!


Talk about freakyness! No better way to be entertained on a Saturday afternoon than having a Bombay fortune teller predict your fortune eh?

Anyway, even if I didn’t believe in mind-reading predictions, at least his last few words felt consolatory, as he recapped on the stuffs that we went through.

“Remember 20 April, Your love Good. Jan 2010. You lucky.You live long. 79 years. Good life. You die natural. You die at home. Good life. Rich life, but not money rich. Bad luck go. Good luck come.”

Then he gave me a tiny yellowy-amber stone and said,  “Your lucky stone.”

He then wrote 50 / 70 / 90 and asked me to pick one. When I picked one he told me that I can pay him that amount.

What a sly fella. Good entertainment but asking for $50 as the least amount to pay for something that was never even agreed upon the start.

I had only $27 with me then, and he’s asking for $50?

Then I gave him $20 and a keychain, and he left.

Funny, he couldn’t see that coming eh?

Needs More Time

Life in camp offered me the chance to reflect a little on life, and I grabbed it greedily, which I’ve covetously endured for the past few months.

BIG stuffs like contemplating that baby steps into the world of internet marketing, fulfilling that online tee store fetish that seems to be put off for far too long, and other trivial mind-boggling things that border on insanity like resigning from my day job — just so that there’s more time for everything else.

Indeed I’ve gingerly worked out an equation whereby the key component missing and preventing me from ‘living the life’ (as put by my gaming buddies han and bangau) is time, but that’s very cliche eh? I don’t care, bite me.

I realised that work has been hampering my developments elsewhere, but, unfortunately and gratifyingly at the same time, it’s fueled them too.

There’s this crazy equation in my head, but as crazy as my logical head and heart deciphers, the possibility of it tempts me — and as easily tempted as I can be, I’m just not that easily moved.

I don’t know, times are looking good for any kind of movement at all, and I really need to move again soon. Back to camp again. Gaaaaaaah!

Perhaps I need more time to decipher and decode? Well that’s all just too cliche all over again! Heh~