Today I decided to pay a visit to the gym. I swear the darned place has been mocking me from the distance with it's smugly glinting windows and sleek , shiny machinery. I was in my usual cathartic limbo after waking up this morning, sprawled on my stomach with one finger on the laptop touchpad, when I caught the snide wink the acursed place tossed me through my window. Something in me, more precisely the rational and lazy portion of my brain, snapped. Call it the rekindling of my innate passion, or rather call it anything you want, but the fact is that I threw off those snuggle-worthy and for some reason, stained bedcovers, ignored Jason Mraz serenading me, and slammed the laptop cover on a doe-eyed(A compelling, brilliant shade of cornflower blue) Alexis Bledel, so that I could arduously pull on my track-shoes(after sequentially recovering from a tremendous coughing fit from the layers of dust on them and re-learning how to tie my shoe laces) and proceed to the foreign nether regions, known to most as the Gym. Yes, I betrayed my favourite Gilmore for the gym. Oh, the guilt...

After I got there and played around with some of the equipment, I realised to my surprise that this is not beyond me at all! The sweet ache and pleasure that comes with using forgotten muscles and the hazy, heady memory of... (What do you call the phenomenon of liquid oozing out of your pores while experiencing pain and pleasure? Ah, yes, perspiring!) perspiring actually felt liberating. So after a few reps of nameless exercises which I copied off the charts with equally nameless and over-bulked men hanging on the walls, I decided that I was aching sufficiently in places seldom used to call it a day. Alas, to my horror(in hindsight), the rigours of the day had just started. While I was walking past the pool, all sweaty, sticky and strangely satiated, the shimmering azure blue of the water reflecting the morning's playful light caught my eye. Maybe it was the hypnotic quality of those windblown ripples, or perhaps the comparison I was making between the water and Alexis Bledel's eyes that pushed me over the edge into the throes of yet another round of vigourous activity. This time, with much less clothing...

I went swimming. After a gym session, no less. This time, it felt even better, what with the cool and comforting caress of the water, the intoxicating emancipation of wearing just trunks and of course, the mingling of pain and pleasure that came with it all. After quite a few laps that climaxed with a badly swam freestyle that took all my breath away, I laid weak-limbed, spent and floating in the same cathartic limbo that enveloped me when I woke this morning. Only this time, I could bask in the warmth of the sun and post-set drowsiness that I suppose, comes with most vigourous activities. I was considering giving in to the allure of the steambath as well but decided that I needed some rest in my bed after the rigours of the morning. So here am I, refreshed and blogging after a short nap during which I met Alexis Bledel(such over dependance is seriously not good). It is a surprisingly good day...

Now, someone save my soul...

Beauty Pageants.
I have chosen them as a battering ram to break back into the blogosphere. I have chosen them as opposed to some ultra emo post complete with poems and lyrics of love songs with the leading reason being that I am perfectly satisfied with my current lifestyle and have absolutely nothing to complain about. Somehow, I have a good feeling about this strategy. At the very least, it will definitely be more successful than the one a certain bleached and child-yearning individual is trying to stage.

I shall provide a little background, before I provide my insights on the matter.
In the most recent Miss USA Pageant, one of the contestants, namely Ms California(Carrie Prejean) was presented with a controversial question by self-made celebrity and gossip blogger Perez Hilton(That's seriously his real name?) which called upon her to talk about her opinions on the increasing number of states legalising gay marriages in the USA. What sparked off the brouhaha was the sensational (and if I might say, extremely brave) answer that Ms California gave, which was that she thinks marriage should only be between a male and a female, thus implying that she was against the liberalisation of gay marriages (Although she never did say so explicitly). Naturally, Perez Hilton's face was scrunged up in barely restrained bitchiness by the time she was halfway through her answer, and towards the end, it was a miracle the audiences weren't coughing up furballs. Carrie Prejean went on to finish 1st runner up in the contest, bringing many to think that her answer might have cost her the crown. Following that was a media circus that swallowed the winner (Ms North Carolina) into pageant obscurity while debates involving the people in question mushroomed on news networks and talkshows all across the country.

One of the issues that I wish to talk about is the fairness of it all. Does she deserve the flak she's getting? I will move on to the heavier topic of gay marriages and my opinions on it in the coming days, but for now, I prefer to start with something lighter, to get the juices flowing...

First off, I will not take into account the assumption that her outspoken comments cost her the crown despite the very relevant possibility due to insufficient evidence for now.
However, based on everything else, I personally think that all this verbal slamming done to her is seriously unwarranted and really unfair. For starters, America being the founder and guardian of democracy is always advocating freedom of speech and thought for all her citizens. I find it absolutely ridiculous that she should be subjected to such verbal abuse simply because she had the guts in her to voice her opinions. Furthermore, she conveyed it in a completely respectable manner. There was no scorn, no disgust, and definitely no hate. She simply felt that a marriage, with the customary definitions associated with it, should be between a male and a female. Seeing that most of the human population is thriving on that concept, and heterosexual communions are still socially accepted, I do not see why she should be penalised and labelled as a "dumb bitch" by people such as Perez Hilton(he released a video, post pageant, flaming her and calling her names). Granted, such issues are close to heart for many people with alternate lifestyles, however, such behaviour is highly unbecoming for an educated adult, let alone a judge for a contest, and bordering close to defamation. One can argue that such responses are part and parcel of a social system that encourages freedom of expression. However, I feel that this has gone far beyond constitutional rights. This is about social grace, etiquette, and exercising those named rights in an appropriate manner. Disagreement in opinions can be put across in a civilised and intellectual manner, rather than proclaiming the person a "bigot"and "bitch'" and many other supposedly insulting names. All that achieves, is to make the person doing the slandering look childish and churlish, all the while dissipating any weight to his side of the argument.

Secondly, how is getting an openly gay judge to pose such a question at a beauty pageant a fair thing to do? A gay judge will naturally be skewed towards the gay point of view, no? My opinion is that, it is not the question that is the problem. It is the person who is asking it that is the issue.
They should have gotten someone on a more neutral ground to ask the question. Yes, she most probably would have given the same answer, but I do not think it would have caused as big an uproar. Furthermore, it was an honest, unembellished, unloaded answer. She tried to stay true to herself while staying as politically correct as possible instead of providing some "world-peace" associated fluffy nonsense. Furthermore, what she said did not mean she is discriminatory towards gays. She simply thinks that marriage should be between a man and a woman. Assumptions were made that blew the issue out of proportion. Take for example, I approve of sex education for the young. Does that also mean I approve of teaching young teens to have premarital sex? Afterall, sex education imparts knowledge about sex that children will otherwise discover for themselves at a later age, no? Implications which may be misconstrued can be made from certain innocent statements and I believe that is what happened here. Apparently, pageants nowadays do not place much emphasis on honesty but have instead transformed themselves into a breeding ground to uncover future politicians.

Lastly, a judge like Perez Hilton should never have been invited on the contest. His professionalism is questionable, seeing as he was not even sure whether Ms South Carolina or North Carolina won the contest, as can be seen in the post pageant video he released. He has no right to be harping on what a Miss USA winner should or should not represent, especially when he obviously cannot be bothered as to who won the pageant. Furthermore, a "judge" who is unable to disentangle his emotions from his decision making and can release such an unbecoming video abomination is obviously not a good judge.

P.S. I shall apologise first in case I stepped on any toes, and stay tuned for my views on gay marriages! =))

Labels: Staging a Come-back...

The random moments in life.

I was commencing with my daily ablutions when I decided, on the spur of a moment, to post something on my blog.

Something, anything.

As they say, easier said than done. After my date with the toilet bowl, I sat in front of my laptop, staring at the blogger post page, hoping to bounce ideas off the screen. Alas, even in the silence of my 'early-sleeping' house, there were no mental 'pings'. Nevertheless, I was undeterred. I proceeded to review my current lifestyle, my previous habits and my aspirations, hoping to be inspired into creating some pseudo intellectual post that might be worth a reader's time(yes I am that narcissistic). As the thoughts passed through my head, and I, screening them as if in a mental theatre, I realised something totally off tangent. The memories, thoughts and impressions that left the deepest marks on my psyche were all completely random. Even this post; how I got to inditing this post and the construction of its content is completely and hopelessly arbitrary. I do not doubt that the process of scripting this post will be forever etched into the ever-growing library of random experiences that make up an important portion my life.

This is not at all saying that my life up to now has been comprised of desultory milling and inconsequential, unpremeditated activities. Perhaps it is exactly the opposite. Amidst all the obsessive-compulsive planning that I do, the structure that Singapore's all encompassing education system introduces into my life as well as the various brick roads to my future, paved and fenced up for me by my parents, the tiny rebel in me screams in defiance.
I suppose this is probably what mini-me says, "To hell with rational analysis or systematic approaches and the fruits that they bear! The success that comes with them may be sweet, but it is the odd raindrop falling on the tip of my nose that is remembered, if only for the utter unpredictability of it.."

Yes, it is the five year old me, making dinosaur jigsaw puzzles on the floor in front of a window streaked with rivulets of rain that I remember. The musical pitter-patter overhead, the caliginous dusk, the pink and white plastic pull-out drawers beside me and the scratchy, brown carpeting beneath my crossed legs. It was not how I got my A's in the PSLE that I instinctively remember, but the moments in the backseat of my father's car; with me lying across the seats, staring at the grey, linen padded ceiling, sliding around on the mocha brown leather covers as my father took bends. All the while giggling as each curve the car took gave me a small taste of adrenaline, allowing me to imagine for a moment, how a roller coaster must feel like.

Such whimsical actions, pointless as they may seem, are the precious memories that make me human and not some machine constantly being engineered for greater success, hence cherish them, I will. The next few posts will be devoted to such gratuitous acts of randomness that are by themselves, priceless.

The three me(s).
The one other people see,
The one I see,
and the real me.

My little excursion to Thailand has allowed the real me to stir and surface.
All that time away from restrictions, demands, and taxes on my personality has given it time to breathe and make itself known. Now it's never going back down.
I did not realise this until most recently. People around me do not understand why I cannot go back to how I was. To survive in the same way in the same environment.
Afterall, I've done it for the past 20 years.

Actually, I can...
But I will not.
Such words do not stem from the lingering taste of freedom, or the secret stash of rebellious angst. Rather it comes from me. I will not say that it's the new me. Instead, it's the me that has been buried, whether deliberately or instinctively, over the past 20 years due to the demands placed on me, the environment I was in, etc. I began to know myself back in Thailand, where I had plenty of alone time, and I liked what I saw. I could truly be myself in Thailand. I had all the space I needed, and there was nobody to make comparisons as to how I was in the past. Everything was new, and I finally had time.
Real time. Time for myself. To be me.
People in Thailand saw me as how I was.
There was no instinctive need to erect a whole new character whilst interacting with people because people there did not know me, nor each other.
The best part is, they liked what they saw too.
I was thriving.

Then I came back.
The instinctive need came back again. And I did not even notice.
Until I realised how stifled I felt by everything.
This place, this house, the people here, how I had to be strong for people, how people ask me if I'm all right even though I was just being myself.
Some of my friends have not even seen this me because they wanted to see the old one. The one I instinctively put up for them to see. It's not their fault because I readily provided them with it. Some part of me just reacts to what they need. What people want, I supply. I have done this for the past 20 years, all the while inadvertently building this image of myself that is not true. Always smothering the real me so as to placate everyone.
And I was fine with it, until I realised it was happening.
Now it's not fine anymore.

I'll try my best to stop myself from putting up a show for everyone to see.
To show who I really am.
I know it sounds cliche and really high school musical, but hey, even disney channel might actually get it right sometimes..

Disclaimer:
I am not emo-ing when I seem different. I will tell you if I am emo-ing.
I am not schizo either, at least I do not think so.
But then again, I am no doctor, so if any of you medical students really think I am bordering on being schizophrenic, feel free to drop me a msg.
Last but not least, I am not adjusting back to Singapore life. I have adjusted. This is me.
I hate to say this, but take it or leave it.

No, I do not have a penchant for posting stuff at 3 am in the morning, and yes, this is going to be a largely incoherent post, yet once again...
Lately, I have been careless...
What was once perfectly under control has been let loose more than once in these few months...
I'm not speaking of my sex drive people,(take that spying moms and rabid rumour-mongers) but of my latent temper..
Perhaps it's the effect of my surroundings,(everyone who matters knows where I am right? Now I can't even type it out because I recently discovered I can STILL be 'brought to heel' for even mentioning its name) or the people I mix with, or three thousand other things, or just me...
I'm not one for blaming everything else, so I think it's me...
I don't know what my friends or family would say after my stint here, but I personally think it has humanised me more...
In the sense that I actually feel more?
More things affect me now than it has ever been..
I'm no longer as detached as I used to be..
I recently figured out that being detached isn't the same as being in control..
The difference is the understanding involved..
In anycase, after recognising this little tidbit of information, I have decided to regain possession of a most precious asset...
I expect it to be more than a little difficult, largely due to this false sense of sweet emancipation I now have tasted, but it will be possible I think...
Because this time, it's not de-humanising back to my original state but instead, humanising more gracefully perhaps...
Perhaps.
Let's see if I'm right...

P.S: I am missing everyone.

Frostbitten Autumn

Sprinkling from heaven, a comfort shower,
fine mist waltzing, once settled dust,
weaving, swirling through autumn weeping,
upon tender whispers of the silver wind.
Elsewhere, perhaps the seasons change,
Spring, summer, autumn, winter,
yet here long-lasting autumn stays,
twirling in crimson masquerade.

Still, a waltz will be a waltz,
on pointe or ballet shoes,
the russet waltz that refused to end,
despite the snowflakes of winter's call.
Truth be told, this autumn froze,
as seasons come and seasons go,
from the dead of winter ballet rose,
pretty as waltz and stronger so.

Wintry poise met thawing autumn,
spring scented with a tinge of green.
Natural as the seasons move,
mono-directional, through winter to spring.
No autumn waltzing could come between,
winter's pirouettes into spring.
Since autumn's weeping brought winter's death,
and winter deserves sweet spring's rebirth.

Autumn's waltz henceforth resumes,
leaves golden, vibrant and warmer still,
gently swaying in the silky breeze,
following winter's footprints into spring.
How then should it all begin?
Perhaps a frostbitten autumn,
from a frozen one...


Jonathan Chuah
14 April 2008

JONATHAN CHUAH
CHS (!!!)
VJC
CHS+VJ choir
have random occassional yam-cha moods
am mostly nice(ahem) and himbotic(totally)
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