you cant beat s er man

my first

acid tamper.

Need for belief

The mood of this place was in high contrast against the vibrant setting. What I thought would be a dark, smoky sardine can full of sleazebags and bad mixes of cheap perfume actually looked reasonably comforting. Still, I felt depressed.

Would-be-hookers and males sway to their animalistic best to a singer belting out half-heartedly on instrumentals that sounded shit still ten years ago. What drove them well, were the same reasons why I was here in this labyrinth of sex and drunkenness in the first place – not quite sex, but being drunk and acceptably desperate with three other testosterone-crazy motherfuckers at 3 a.m., there was not a reason to reject a trip to Wanchai.

A beautiful, most outstanding girl enters and almost looked reluctant to be in the bar. Her face was so pretty I struggled with my feelings and had my inner romantic secretly convince consciousness she could’ve been the daughter of a convenience store boss; one of those ‘smitten with the girl at the counter’ type situations when I was younger. She was not an eager girl at the bar that night. Not quite soliciting at all in fact, switching from spot to spot, table to table, not enjoying the music, not casting an eye even on any one of the birdwatchers who were trying to remain calm at the bar, taking their pick. She’s becoming special.

I tailed her, trying to catch a glimpse of her fair face, – she had these eyes full of emotion and vulnerability - while simultaneously, my thoughts ran wild. I had to break the ice somehow; I wanted to talk to her.  I walked into her eyes, ‘You look like you’re looking for nothing.’

‘I’m looking for a drink.’ she gave a half smile.

‘One tequila and coke and one ice water.’ I told the waiter as I unknowingly told her I could get her a drink and nothing else.

She tilted her head in typical adorable fashion and told me her name was Fali.

‘I’m Matthew.’

When she asked, I told her I was from Taiwan and later told her I knew where she’s from from her accent, after she told me she’s here on business from Thailand.

She took my hand, walked me to a corner table and we sat. Eight minutes of random first impression questions lead to an ‘I’m working’, as if trying to make a point.

‘Oh, cool. You have very pretty face.’

She smiles and strokes my back. ‘I want to go home with you,’ she looks into my eyes, ‘I tired of here tonight.’

‘I could do with another drink, that’s all.’ Half of me want to sell bits of my soul, and the other reminds me constantly of the subconscious bias I have for hooking up at all with a girl like that.

‘You have good heart.’ I wandered and wondered for a little, if she was taking a piss, on how many pseudo-innocent bastards would coax and hoax for a fuck, and if she meant a quarter of what she was saying at all. There weren’t any reason to be ruminating about these things – but I did.

‘Do you want to take my number?’ I blurted.

‘I don’t talk to man I can’t keep’, she placed her hand on my lap as if knowing and expecting my grasp.

I held her cold hand. She squeezed it slightly and gently kisses my right ear, ‘I no really treat you as customer from begin’; she looks into my eyes again and told me she had to work. For some reason, I was nodding profusely, dejectedly. Her index finger had a sensual magic that either made me cringe or shiver for half a second, as she traced my cheek down to my chin. Fail left.

Alone, I sat at the same table for an hour, kept drinking, kept observing unwillingly and started thinking about my ex-girlfriend. I was sinking. In. Despair. This dodgy disco corner. Fuck you.

Fali looked more ravishing this time, shit trance tunes got the neon greens activated and it hit her like a spotlight. Again, she looked at me for a split second, and looked away, coldly.

lost and found thoughts

its unbelievable how one would feel depressed for a bit while being away in another country, starting up slowly, getting a few rejections and still, unfamiliar in a foreign yet ironically culturally-similar land.

he'd be doing productive things and building up gradually on his passion/forte; while at the same time not 'socio-correctly' doing something looked upon as a product. school for example, a day-job? even often recognized or should i say stereotyped as a dreamer. dreaming about making it big on the quick. trying to meld in and fade out into the local crowd, speaking their language, observing their lingo-traits. putting in conscientious effort as well, to adapt to the melanin packed, the unavoidable be-seen-ers and the warholites. one and all. split persona 'forward' thinking' relationships.

emotions are often forgotten. especially with so much 'what the fuck' judgement that was mentioned above. in a worse case scenario, one would probably have some sinus-type minor issues with family, friends, love, and himself even.

parents want the best for their children, i think. but to what kind of extent would they go to get their child to learn crafts of 'correct' practicality'? they want the best, don't they?

indulgence to accessible joy, or rather pleasure, is a paradox. what exactly does one have to achieve, to be bestowed simple pleasures? what if there already are constant and almost desperate attempts of trying to achieve? no one person would know everything about everyone.

next to obvious soul survival needs like family and for religiousos, God, friends are... the one of two 'only' things. there's no need to go into the deeper drama of how true friends would give their best to secretly watch their loved ones cradled. reminders of simple conversation and sharing of emotion would prove any enemy dead. friends are a platform for one to express love, anger, joy and sadness. more than enough reason to have a friend, no?


one, is as well longing for more familiarity with a person back home.

just the thought of seeing someone you don't want to see can be scary.

01 friendship

a mate can really save your soul sometimes. when you feel like some kinda straddling the fine line of feeling down and out and not being sure what you're really happy about, a mate kinda reminds you of the leftover beauties people tend to forget sometimes.

a mate's not quite one you'd 'party' with or go out to 'extravagant' attention beaming places. more like the one you chill in the room with, smoking a joint; watching some comedies; playing some football even.

talking about things going on in life, sublty showing affection, are things we rarely talk about with most people in our circle. its usually the current affairs, whats going on with other circles or plain inconsequential issues. well, you know what i mean now.

blap to you my boyz

三壘

we were making muffins.
still bickering a bit.
but yeah, we were making muffins.
we ate them of course.
it was good.
not just the muffins...

06 fee: 0

secret see hold
temp-fix tempo
tough choice tough role

no love no gold
sell fish sell soul
tough choice tough toll

05 death.

why do bad things happen to good folks? is there a reason behind this? is it just mere coincidence that bad folk escape consequence and harm, and that all things ill-fated hit the less-scheming, less-hateful?

good people court misfortune. good people get used. good people never know when to say 'sorry, not this time'. what kind of courage and despair does it take to drive a man to kill himself; a good man, as a matter of fact. everyone knows that to take one's own life is not even a last thing to do. but when you have no family, no friends, no love, no means, but only fear for the future, can there not be some validity in it? how does one find hope and possibility for a better time and space to let your heart calm down and to just say to yourself, 'alright, things are going to get better if i get over this fucking obstacle', while without any of the formerly mentioned elements that each and every individual soul craves for. do you not want to be in that spot to experience what it would be like, to be pushed to the face of death? the face of despair and pure nothingness? would that answer your questions and inexperienced judgments of calling one a coward who escaped problems at their worst and unsolved?

you would not even fucking dare lose one element i'm sure. i'm so fucking sure, you coward.

the question that is always overrated and talked about dying is that who would come for your funeral? who would eulogize? surely, people are going to arrive and pay their final respects and all that, but who would weep so fucking hard in their hearts they won't function properly the next few days, months, years? the answer i hope, is obvious. drop the inconsequential accquaintances and prioritize properly why don't we. its fucking stupid right, giving bits of soul to too many people.

the dead would always have a story to tell, a hell of a story i'm sure. but they can't share it, they die with it, without letting out slight bits even, before death. imagine walking around with heavyweight issues constantly poking into your soul, not being able to share and shame yourself a little bit - only because you want to stand on your own two feet without getting looked down upon. is that foolish? isn't that just an act of maturity, to settle your own shit and then come back at a better time to face the people whom you think are truly concerned? who are truly concerned anyway? no fucking friend is going to go the whole stretch anyway. really, close your eyes and think about the load that i want you to conjure up and put in your heart; when you've done so, imagine living with the load with everything you do - walk about with it, eat with it, take the long bus ride home with it, sleep with it, or rather try sleeping with it. you acted well. it all seemed too simple.

how does it feel to stand on the edge 24 storeys high? that talk about your life flashing by moments before death, how would it play out? finalcut style with childhood progressing through adolescence, to manhood, to gaining wisdom and finding that other half while you age through your last years playing golf, or something. what if you're young, say 24. what would 'flash'? that one or two loves you thought meant to be forever? still thinking about how the future could actually turn out to be? what you would be missing, and if it'll be worth visiting and waiting for in the first place? or would you think about the people you hate and laugh about it and quietly forgive them before leaving; we all used to love people we hate at some point anyways. we all make choices, whatever consequence awaits. thats the beauty of learning isn't it. the price for lessons sometimes..

i wouldn't be able to answer that. i don't have the guts to experience the question either.


have a good one man, i pray you're happier now. i respect your decision and guts; i don't want to question you either, my brother. you're a true friend. you made sure all were sorted before you.

checkmate; in loving memory of. 84-08

04 b o r e d o m

it was unavoidable that i end up talking about being in a space of pure nothingness, blank, zilch. our minds can roam and dream and fantasize and conjure and hallucinate in any way and space we can be in, or imagine. its the most mundane yet essential time of accidental reflection. what are the pseudo-ideal-realities that exist in our head; that we want to exist rather, more often than not.

an interesting, insightful, intriguing and possibly idyllic freedom to wonder and wander with near future and big picture endeavors is what we're dealing with here. its a pretty seriously underrated form of, escape? drug? bliss? you know who you are... very fun i must say. some people tend to do it more than others. no worries my friend, love your own original spaces. be bored. be free with nothing to do. it's a hell of a luxury in fact.

you could be lovers with a film star; dropping wax on a spaceship; flexibility like comeneci; hell, you might just be tokin' up with madlib. who gives a shit innit? get random ideas as well. how you could merge two above average consumer products and create an excellent globally marketable brainchild. endless things to think about. how time slows down and you're stuck in your own space. you control your own world and your brain is your god. take it ez' and have a beer with your alter ego on the tip of K2 and blaze some love on an iceberg-bong. you know?

go on now, get the fuck out and take off mate. sprout some chromed-powerhouse micro-engines war-machine time jet launchers and meet e.t. in 7.3 seconds (eyes fluttering cornelius style).

kenneth thennke enthenk
nethekn hekennt ketennh
tennekh kenneht henk-ten

03 Grey Abyss

Why is truth seemingly cruel?
In the beginning it was all a treat,
Sequence didn't seem tangible,
Now its all a fucking trick.

Stuck in distant search for solace.
Is not the only way to blow?
How do I put my soul at ease?
Worse than being on ground zero.

Unknown pain invading my space,
Frantic and pushed up to the wall.
Seeking for a method to erase...
Who is gonna catch me when I fall?

02 Weekend Soul

this is the best time of our lives (i'm 22) to just fool around and learn from whatever experience is gonna come our way. no commitments, no responsibilities and most importantly no distractions (sorry if u're not single). its where we can do whatever we want. embrace our passions for music, writing or plain relaxation spaces. if we don't fuck up and learn from everything, be it success or mistakes; we will never be able to handle any kinds of stresses in the future when we're in a more responsibility engulfed surrounding.

when we start life afresh in school, everything has to be kept under a tighter watch. less time for music, less time to hang out with friends and most importantly, its the only time that we need to really grasp our knowledge (on the official) before moving on to a working environment and plunge into the sick and torturous corporate world that all of us deem to be cruel. in school, we have to be disciplined to allot our times wisely in systematic rationed time 'boxes', like how an old man would arrange his pills in a case for his daily consumption. one serving for making music and/or love, one serving for friends, 3 servings for soul time, and 4 servings dedicated to hit the books. that way we go through a cycle; a disciplined cycle - that would consume, say, a standardized amount of time for our week, that would be purely used for the upgrading of our particular skill and knowledge to better ready us for whats ahead in school, and some extent work in the future. of course, this cycle is so strict, it would be under a strict dictator as well. that dictator my friend, is time.

time is set apart for the purpose of us gaining a skill for the fucked up working environment we're gonna be in; passion or not, it is gonna be tough. 3 years per se, is set aside for time at a college, to learn how to handle ups and downs - just like in the army, but in a deeper aspect. when u fuck up in the army, you would be punished accordingly. when u fuck up in school, no one cares. you fail, u're fucking out of school. thats it. its more on a consequence, than a punishment basis. consequences are matters to be reflected upon, and more often than not, the consequences hurt. its like the soul getting punished. enough said. no ones gonna get hurt if one has his mind sorted out on what to do. how to keep the attitude straight?

simple.

just party ur brains and minds out before you enter an organized plan for 3 years (or whatever time it is for you to learn from a company or school). come on once you're out of school, the official learning whistle blows for full time, no more time to learn from mistakes son, time to learn from experience, or else ou'll be taking so much shit from people, you'd wish you make mistakes in school for you to be better conditioned for the harsh reality. you'll get so conditioned with partying, it becomes a lifestyle and then you'll will not be shocked by the repercussions of the consequences - cause there will be experience to guide you. do your work in the day; have a few shots in the evening; smoke up, chill and catch a dvd at night - wake up the next day, back to school. keep it straight, keep it real, always ask urself if u're able to handle the pressures of work and play. whats the moderation like? always be prepared and disciplined to say no when the tiredness kicks in and its time to recuperate for the next day in school. always enjoy ur fridays and saturdays, blow ur brains out to a good and well deserved party. sunday detox and wine over dinner would then put ur mind straight and get you ready for monday again!

learn how to enjoy, whilst you're on your journey in life. always take it ez' and love all people, its really the simplest way out of every little stressful state. no beef. just remember always -

"cometh the weekend, cometh the life..."

01 Agony

i've been thinking about this for awhile now and would like to be enlightened; approaching a beautiful person is verily verily underrated these days, and a disaster as well that in our culture, that when one approaches the other on a quiet/pretty-empty train ride (could be a bookstore, the damn convenience store in fact) per se; the result is usually appalling or repulsive - and random uncalled-for links to 'sexually stimulated' intentions would be conjured up in an instant.

is it really better, to 'buy someone a drink' at a sleazy ladies night gig, or better to just greet the girl who's been at the same bus stop (at usually the same time) reading, say, a nice novel, whatever. my point being; isn't it nice to just have people to talk to, the notion of how strangers are friends un-met. ok sure enough if the person u give, say ur email or number to, starts scammin' u with lowly shallow hints of 'you know what', that u ignore them? what if the human being that does say hi, is one with a beautiful mind - have kopi, or just plain hanging around and faggin a cigarette - while sharing really (be it) meaningful or fun-brainless conversation, all at the bloody comfort of the neighborhood, or not.

well, i for one, live for that shit. its people like these that i meet, make my space vibrant. for sure, u meet friends through mutual friends, organizations, school, etcetera - but the thought of how theres a link cheeses the vibe off at some point don't it? from the person you saw across the room - to accquaintance through a mutual friend - to exchanging numbers on a next 'chance' meeting (which isnt), to gradually 'friend', but cant really properly get comfortable in times of conversation with so many things in between, like circle issues to talk about.

when u meet someone u know absolute zilch about, not even his/her existance; and conversation starts to flow just for the easy truth of two human beings bloody clicking cos their souls are on par, isnt that quite a mad way to meet a person?

i had my fair share of such beauty, more with guys though, who eventually became my best friends (and i have few), but more downs than ups with the female kind. i met a lovely girl lately at a cafe, it was 5pm (trust me it was for the first time, i never knew anything about her), we hung out till 1pm the next day and i headed off to work real sleepy and dizzy, but the joy of such chance kept me going with random bouts of happy energy.

isn't it such a misery to be living in a space like mine? where no one cares for the wonders of all things unpredictable. that no one would give safety and regularity up for the slightest bit of whimsical mystery? what am i doing here still??????????????????????????????????????????

Part Deux

Too poor for meals;
Too dumb to steal;
These times are ill;
Get stoned to feel..

06 Goldmine

In life, we go through what we call ups and downs. A lot of those actually. More ups than downs for some, more downs than ups for most though. But really, what defines an 'up' and what, a 'down'. When a down works out as a lesson, an experience, that makes future decisions easier, isn't it a potential up?

When we're in a dysfunctional relationship; constantly bickering over the micro-issues, being obsessive, possessive, and insecure about the most inconsequential things - but still in a space of deep love from time to time, still unable to survive when we're not around each other; is it really a downer when things come to a stop? Aren't we then able to move on to doper pastures? Sure, we'll sink into a dark and lonely abyss - we shut off everything and everyone - only till we meet that one-in-a-mil human being to lift us up again, it all works in a strange way.

We have 'fun' when we're pimped with the cash (good job, illegal means or even the bloody toto), head on out here and there, be 'seen' at the 'be seen' places, extravagant dates and house parties, etc. Are we then on the down-low when we all out of the cash money? I verily verily seriously believe that life is more exciting when we're broke. Think thinking about whether or not to smoke another fag just cause there won't be enough left for later, imagine how fucking delicious it would be to inhale that poison when we come to our last. Taking a bus and then rocking a long walk home just to save for a bit on the cab fare is a joy i can never explain, we all need to touch home sometimes if you know what i mean. The joy itself of making the best out of 10 dollars on a day out easily feels like a million dollars. There's heaps of examples, you get my point innit?

Can't we all just believe in ourselves. Do what we want to do; to not hurt the people that we deem instrumental in our lives, and just be our very natural beings. If what you love doing keeps you in a space of constantly being broke and barely breaking even every time we get the dough - keep doing it I say; there will never be enough lessons in life. Music for example, our passion could be our bonus lottery. Here we are, doing the thing that we love and doing one thing or another on the side just to make ends meet; and hey someday, who knows? People may like your art, and we could then have the ability to be a full time craftsmen for our love of art. Take things in our stride, bide our time, learn from everything. Always do what comes naturally - for everything. There is no right or wrong. We will never find out, if we don't jump into it. Its then, we realize the true prize of chasing every dream is finding ourselves; filling up on our mind's capacity.

05 why

Why are you so beautiful inside.
Why are you so beautiful.
Why do i feel like i know you.
Why do i feel like you know me.
Why do i feel like we should be a part of something more.
Why do i know in a day.
Why are you perfectly imperfect.
Why are you able to make me feel, again.

Why did i fucking meet you?

04 for you

i like being alone too much to be with someone. of course, things were real, whilst falling in and out of love the past years; i now enjoy spending time with myself, buying me a gift, taking me out to lunch and yeah watching a film with me . let the magic work its magic. i'll keep holding my glass up for that missing clink, but till then, whatever matters anymore?

03 not denying

Memories can only stay memories.
We long to live on memories, when realities hit.

I live in a world of memories

02.1 Pandan

What is, 'working towards my future priority' all about then? What is an ideal future? What is an ideal future to you isn't what an ideal one could be for anyone else. Rich folk, pass-it-on rich folk, wannabe rich folk per se, all in love with they money and 'work toward a future' of making more money. Other folk are happy and rich, too, in and via different ways, if you know what I mean. Genuinely happy as well. So spot on about what I was thinking about, you know.

Joy, a pleasure, that would not be found, but felt, is the natural thing that we aim for, without trying too hard in the process as well. Thats how it is right, being happy? It comes for us. Its still a personal choice though; do what you want, smile how you want to smile, and how quick. Manu-fuckin-facture that shit, I don't care.