Don't mind my blog.

It looks hideous now, I know.

The design's all gone, even the pic at the top.

Guess the owner probably removed the image-hosting.

In any case, this means a revamp.

Very soon.

Well. Depends on how available I am these days.

But it'll be new and readable in a jiffy, I promise.

Meanwhile, don't stay away.

These days I've been reading my old blog online.

It's kinda sad that I can't access that blog to write in anymore.

After all, it represented a huge part of me. And my past.

Although I have to admit that, at times, I was cringing at some of the stuff that I wrote.

As I was going through the older entries (by month), and trying to search for my poems which I'd posted on the blog, I chanced upon a month of what I feel are my best entries.

Which is why I'm placing it here .

My personal fave is the pseudo-letter that I wrote to Pierre Png back in the days of the Slim 10 drama.

Go read it if you have absolutely nothing else to do.

And gosh.

It has been a good 2 years since I've started blogging.

It really didn't feel that long to me.

No it didn't.

I rejected an offer by BTM on Friday.

It was agonizing to arrive at that decision. Everyone else around me were egging me to go for it, claiming better prospects and such.

There were a few simple reasons why I did what I did.

Firstly, they can't even match my current salary of $2.3k. How dismal, really.

Secondly, I don't fancy the idea of working in a predominantly Asian corporate culture.

Thirdly, and most simply, I don't envision myself being very much happier over there.

And perhaps the third reason is the most important reason.

I went with my gut. And followed my heart.

I'm not going to deny that after I'd conveyed my decision to the bank's HR, I felt this tinge of sadness welling up in me.

Don't ask me why.

I guess it was just appropriate.

LEAVE ME ALONE


That's the mood that I'm feeling as well as projecting today.

I'm tired of being in this office and seeing these people.

I'm tired of everything and everyone.

All I want to do is just to lock myself up in Kinokuniya and never get out, just dwell amongst shelves and shelves of books that do not make noise, and that do not talk, but yet project a million million thoughts and emotions all at once.

And it's not like I had a fight with anyone.

I just feel this way.

This is a new love story


If you have Quicktime, you've got to preview Tim Burton's new upcoming movie, Corpse Bride .

Many of you may not know my insanely insane respect and admiration for Tim Burton.

It started one day many many moons ago when I'd first watched Edward Scissorhands. Who doesn't love that movie, tell me and I'll give you a left-right-up-down.

And then there was Sleepy Hollow (somewhat of a let-down, but still impressive visually).

And, for the first and only time, an old friend introduced me to his all-time favourite movie, Nightmare Before Christmas.

I still remember the old apprehension I had when I sat in his massive bedroom watching the show for the first time. To me, the title sounded scary. Like something akin to Friday the 13th.

It was anything but.

It was a show with vivacity, colours and music.

A show with characters so queer, they reminded me of Edward Scissorhands. Only cuter.

And that was how I fell in love with a show that scared me s***less at first (just by the name). Up till today, it still stays in my mind like an eternal ghost.

The awe for the films' creator revived when I was browsing at Kinokuniya one day and spotted a small blue suede-covered book.

By Tim Burton.

It wasn't really a book.

It was a collection of poems on more weird characters. Laced with macabre and a dark sense of humour.

With names like Oyster Boy and Stain Boy.

Right up my alley.

That small book is on one of Kinokuniya's best-seller lists.

And then there was Sally.

The heroine in Nightmare Before Christmas presented to me in a small parcel.

She now sits watching all the goings-on with her huge, lidless eyes on the top of my CPU at my work-area.

And then there's the musical box with miniature Sally perched lonely in the middle.

And a backdrop of the movie used as a backdrop for the musical box.

And don't even let me start on Beetlejuice.

I feel like a kid experiencing childhood all over again.

Or rather.

An adult catching up on lost time.

No wonder.

I only read as a kid. Now that explains it.

The more you know what you want, the more you realize how far away you are from it.

That’s the reality of life.

And that’s how you stop sucking on your thumb and grow up as well.

Because the reality of life would have hit you so hard in your face wham-bam! that all of a sudden, you just know.

How true it is.

And that’s me.

I’ve come to realize what I want, and at the same time, what I need.

That’s the price you pay for growing up.

It’s like a double-edged sword.

With growth and knowledge comes dismay and discontent.

My life summed up in one sentence.

Hooray.

I guess a few people might be concerned about the state of my interviews, so here goes.

I called Barclays a week after the one and only interview that I had with them. Turns out I wasn't shortlisted.

I was disappointed, to say the least.

But surprisingly, it took me only a day to get over it.

As for the other B, Bank of Tokyo-Mitsuibishi, I've gone for 3 rounds of interviews already.

It's getting too much for me to bear. I don't think I have the stamina to keep up with any more interviews.

On my 3rd round, I actually met 2 different groups of interviewers.

All in all, I reckon I've seen 9-10 individuals from that department alone.

They're really being very very cautious in their selection, indeed.

But, contrary to what some of my peers think, I'm not so strung-up about whether or not I will be selected.

If they do select me, fine and dandy.

If not, it just means that God wants me to stick around UOB for a bit more.

Up to date, I'm not crazy about heading over to BTM, it's not like such a big deal to me.

So, we'll just see what goes.

This is so cool.

One of them says what I'm feeling right now.

Guess which one is it.

As for you.

Go ahead.

Post a secret.

I promise not to tell.