Fruity.

” Is my life meaningful? ” I’ll bet you, or someone else has asked you. So, is it? As with every other question, the question is, how do you define ‘meaningful?’ Heres’ some quotes I found with Google.com ;

Life is rather like a tin of sardines – we’re all of us looking for the key.

Dreams pass into the reality of action. From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living.

A good life is a main argument.

Nobody can go back and start a new beginning. But everyone can start today and create a new ending. – In my opinion, living a meaninful life is living a life with regrets. Yes. Regrets. Everyone wishes to live without regrets, but without regrets, are we really..living? If you’ve never made a mistake, took a sideturn or messed up, how ‘alive’ are you? That’ll be like playing ‘ The Sims’ and stopping time (pausing the game) every two seconds to make sure nothing goes wrong and all their needs are duly met. Having regrets is one thing we can’t do on purpose. Can we? Regrets are like scars. Or carvings on a tombstone, either way, they leave a mark. And after enough time, you’ll come to accept it ( remember the four steps?) as a sovenir. – The manificent beauty of life, we don’t notice. We don’t notice the flowers and the children smiling, not a second put aside to count the stars and skip rope. We long for love, we search for knowledge, we hunger for power, no time, dear sir, for the unbearable pity for the suffering of the misfortunate. Beuna fortuna, we’re are blessed, Love is always there, Wrapped in the beauty of life, hidden away in the seconds of your life, the special few seconds you cannot throw away. Love brings ecstasy and relieves loneliness. In the union of love I have seen In a mystic miniature the prefiguring vision Of the heavens that saints and poets have imagined. Love has always alleviated the pain and scorn of regrets, but a broken heart struck me back to reality; Cries of pain reverberated in my bubblewrapped heart, Starving children in famine, suffering victims of diseases, Old people abandoned, unborn children aborted. We long to alleviate this pain, but alas, there be no way. The scars of regret on my back, proof of my flawed existance, the cast around my foot, littered bountifully with signatures, the souvenirs of my life.

- Adriel , 29/3/08

He brushed his hands against his dirt stained jeans and pulled himself out of the trench.

As he went on his knees, he thought to himself ” This felt familiar. “

Yes, again. So much so that it makes him feel old. Old, yet none the wiser.

She never said goodbye. Never did answer that call. His eyes were dry, not a tear.

“ I’ve been through this before. I can do it again. ” , he tried to convince himself. His efforts proved to be futile when he finally broke down. ” Where did i go wrong…? what could i have done.. “

He sat there and watched her being lowered into the grave. He stood up and ran towards the nonchalant gravedigger and asked him to stop and give him a minute with his lifeless lover.

With heavy footsteps, he walked over and placed a little yellow bear on the casket. “ Take care of PB. ” , he mumble, teary eyed, biting his lip in an attempt to stop the tears. He quivered in the corner until it was over. Curled up in a ball, wishing that this was a nightmare. Miracles do happen. It was a nightmare, only not his. She woke up in cold sweat. Chills running down her spine.

She reached for her mobile and dialled his number. He never picked up. – “You work so hard to make her think that you don’t care, that you don’t need her. A guy goes nuts if he ain’t got nobody. It don’t make no difference who the guy is, as long as he’s with you. I tell you, a guy gets too lonely and he gets sick.” – Of mice & men.

Stop giving out my email. (btw add me at adrieltham@hotmail.com )

Hi world, meet ping.

You can always trust a dishonest man to be dishonest. Honestly, it’s the honest ones that you should look out for. I like this picture. It’s unique in it’s own special way, Distinct and with meaning, yet sparse enough for various interpretations. I’ve derived countless interpretations from this picture itself. Heres one. To be able to portray anger (assuming we’re looking at it in the perspective that showing the finger depicts anger), and happiness (likewise for the smile) at the same time would seem ironic to most people. She smiles. She smiles for the camera ; She smiles, pretending as though the world was all hers, She smiles, pretending as if she’s really happy. She smiles, like she actually cares. She smiles, as though she doesn’t know it’s all an illusion. She smiles, we’re all an act. Beneath her masquerade of joy, she is vulnerable. Stares blankly into the mirror, her faith stuck somewhere between the faint lines of love & life. Raises her voice, she screams and throws tantrums. “ I’m not real. Get me out of here. ” She mumbles. In this act, she lost her cue. In this game, she’d lost the upperhand. In this hunt, she’d lost her footing and fell into a deep trench. ” Who am I? ” Losing sight of her past, she glances up and looked to the stars for answers. Revelations piled up, and she spoke those words with what little faith she had. Humanity speaks of no modesty, only desperation. We’re always searching, looking for affection and acceptance. She laughed as he lied and sputtered out half-truths. Teardrops rolling down her face, he tried everything, to make himself look like a saint. Not a worry or care about the damage he’d done. The sense of loss, the guilt of leaving, as long as others thought he looked good. She wish she’d never met him. She hoped they’d work things out. All she wants to do now, is know all that he’s done, so she can prepare herself for the next time. Whether you stay, whether you leave, the outcome remains the same. The truth was hard to imagine. She fell in love with an image. She was seduced by an act. She wondered how he lied with such an innocent smile. She will not smile over the sense of pride he gave her. She’ll never smile about what she’s become. She refuses to smile when he says ‘ That’s the way it goes.’ or ‘It’s all in the past. ‘ . No, Not today. For that, she has the finger.

Hello Benjamin.

Life certainly does have a sense of humour.

I’m walking away from Harrys’, the place where I was supposed to go for an interview at, (got shunned away because I came too late), and i’m thinking to myself ” Damn Adriel, when are you gonna get a job. ” .

I went to have a bowl of noodles some time later and after my noodles, out of nowhere, came a tipsy German sprouting nonsense with his inferior grasp of our language.

We, after a few minutes, concluded that he wanted to drink beer, and he was going to pay for our share. He wanted friends (:

So we rose to the occasion. Three bottles for 15. He pulled out a US 100 dollar note. It was rejected for obvious reasosn.

And there i was, kindred soul, I paid for the beer and took the 100. I offered to give him change but he refused.

And deja vu for Josh when we ordered another 3 bottles.

So we both got a hundred US dollars for 15 sing each. Pretty good deal if i say so myself.

There i was, happily drinking beer and having a hundred in my pocket thinking to myself, ‘Feels like a darn dream. ‘

Del came over after work and sat down. The tipsy German asked if he could kiss her. She said no.

He took her hand, i was thinking, Okay he’s westernized, hes’ gonna give it a little peck.

No way. He licked it. We lauged it off, hey, we had a hundred US each. (:

Then he told Del to ‘Go away’ after she rejected his gesture.

Jolyn wanted to do Shisha and coincidently Walter, thats his name, said he wanted Shisha as well. So we proceeded to the shisha place. Sahara Bar.

We were greeted with ” I’m sorry Sir, your friend is very intoxicated, we cannot serve him drinks. “

” No no, we just want Shisha. ” , Jolyn said with a grin.

So we sat down. He beckoned for me to sit closer to him. It was an almost perfect pinkish gay moment, I felt the vibes blasting right in my face.

He came over and hugged me from the back. I stood up , he groped my wonderful ass ( you gotta touch it to believe it) . I backed off with a ‘ Woah woah woah. No gay shit man. ‘

And like a kid who never got that ice cream he longed for, he walked out, or rather bumped his way out of the bar.

And we fled. Like stray dogs.

I found it pretty funny that the only german I know is the vulgarities.

If only he spoke spanish. Oh well.

You’re sleeping.

You’re having a nice dream, one which you’d like to continue having even after being pulled out of your sleep by someone.

And you say your raspy, morning voice ‘ Just five more minutes, please. ‘

But more often than ever, five minutes is always too much, and you can expect nothing short of a fervent

‘no. wake up, now. ‘ .

You spend one minute drifting back into sweet slumber, and before you know it, it’s over, and you’re bothered again, to get off the bed.

You get angry and you whine and kick and toss. And one minute passes by.

The next minute, you’re coming up with reasons, or rather, excuses for why you deserve five minutes more.

‘ I’m not going to be late, five minutes won’t make a difference.‘

Your excuses come crawling back, rejected, demoralized and void.

Undaunted and undismayed, you try to negotiate. One minute.

“ I’ll spend less time in the shower, I’ll have my breakfast on the way. ‘

And those words fall on deaf ears. Adament ears.

Your mind is overwhelmed with discontent, and you’re very close to pulling your hair out and throwing a tantrum, kindergarden fashion.

You start to ponder, more so, you start to find excuses for your dissatisfaction.

‘ If i had that extra five minutes to sleep, i wouldn’t be having mood swings and my day wouldn’t be ruined. ‘

Another minute passes. Five minutes.

and you’ve accepted that that five minutes, you were never meant to have.

You ignored.

You got angry.

You denied.

You bargained.

You accepted.

Click here if you think my blog is worth reading. and thanks ashley (: (all the way from sweet alabama)

Melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass,
the demise of a patriot, a hero to his country,
his deeds and covanents losing light,
his family and friends, losing faith.

We ponder, if he was only significant for his death.

The stench of utter tyranny and unjustful commination,
the rise of a corrupt leader, blinded by greed and sheer power,
He is malicious and spiteful, but bless him, One day karma will transpire,
and the lake of fire & brimstone awaits his repugnant soul.

We ponder, if there was ever a hint of goodness in his life.

The hermit in the caves, a man of a solitary disposition,
Indulging in the tranquility of mother nature first hand,
he is oblivious and unaffected by affairs of the world,
Irony, nature will get the better of him one day.

We ponder, if his ignorance was really blissful.

The departure of a close friend, away on a hiatus,
the trip physically transitory,
yet emotionally, she is perpetually detached,
she goes as a friend, and returns, no more than an aquaintance.

We ponder, if she would have stayed, if asked to.

A woman loses her life during labour,
A new life graces the world, yet another departs,
a murderer is given the death sentence to atone for his crimes,
an unwed teenage girl gets pregnant and decides to raise the child.

We ponder, if there is an equation to life.

The never ending inquest of the existance of a superior being up above,
The question of the whereabouts of true love,
the on going dispute between coincidence and fate,
The unethical altercation of superiority in the food chain.

We ponder, if we will ever, stop Pondering.

=
Adriel  14/3/08

an extract from scrubs. Based on a a true story. Click here for link.

I’ve been sitting here, in front of my laptop for half an hour trying to think about something to blog about.

I thought about Xan, and how we don’t get to talk anymore.

Start of 07, Trish fox was my bestie, we spent a lot of time together and she was always there to back me up.

She moved on a while back.

Then came Xan, someone else who thought like i did, enjoyed my company for who i was and backed me up.

I needed someone who i can look up to, who i can count on to guide me out of any situation I’m in, thats’ my problem.

I can solve my own problems, yet I don’t do anything until someone encourages me to. I rarely have the courage to go at it alone.

I need Someone there to give me a hug, a pat on the shoulder, or maybe just a nod. No words really need to be spoken. Of course, it’s always nice when they are.

The demons of regret come haunting and I question myself over and over, why I did not attend my classes more often. Xan made it so much easier by constantly motivating me to attend, and knowing her, she’s in class most of the time, no matter how tired, no matter how sick.

Theres no point regretting, really, it’s not going to change anything, or so i tell myself.

Everytime I look at someone I treasure, I start to wonder if they’d still be there. In a week? In a month? A year?

Eight years?

Once again I look at life with a mathematical approach. Life is filled with variables. People change, things change.

The Addition of new opportunities in our life.

Subtraction of friends and aquaintances as we move on.

The Division of cliques and classmates.

Multiplication of family members.

Substitution of family roles. Your father becomes a grandfather, you become a father.

And the Elimination of loved ones.

We’re just like numbers on a paper, waiting to be solved and concluded.

As always, with maths, we’re constantly bombarded with the ever persistant question ‘where did i go wrong’ .

You and I both know that to solve any equation, we always need a constant. A known ‘x’ .

And the more constants we have, the easier to solve, the equation.

In the process of solving the equation, its’ normal to start to wonder if your ‘x’ is really a constant, or just another variable.

I guess that’s what draws the line between mathematics and life. Mathematics, once figured out, becomes predictable.

Life, however, is still unpredictable no matter how much you know.

So I’m back from the chalet, which turned out to be rather..interesting.

We’ve got some pictures. I’ll post them up..soon.

Until then.. seems like no ones’ commenting anymore!

This is a small poem for a friend with a big heart. I’ve been pondering for the longest time If i should add on to it, but for such a special friend, there is no need to show affection with words, this is instead a gift of appreciation.

- To Jess,

The sweet serenade of the winds,
rust wrapped train tracks and brown maple leaves,
they lay there and embraced in nature’s grace.

Love letters & picnic fare,
luxuriating in Gaia’s grandeur,
they indulged in heavenly fellowship.

And I am still jobless. Been watching a lot of scrubs lately, I’ll probably finish the entire series by tomorrow.

If you watch scrubs, you’d know what I’m talking about. I’m a little like J.D, I tend to drift away a lot, even in the most unexpected places, like clubs with loud music and heavy bass.

And I ponder a lot. So I’ve been pondering about why I’m so hard up about getting a job.

Let’s not talk about money. If you know me, you’d know I don’t really care, as long as its’ not unreasonable. I place more priority on whether I’d enjoy working.

I concluded that a big reason why is because I’m bored and need something to do. Like Xan, who studies in the day and works at night, wants to feel as if 24 hours a day is not enough.

Yet somewhere deep inside of me I know theres another reason.

Could it be that I feel the teenage need to be independent? As long as I’m not earning my own dough, my parents will always have a stronghold over me, and I’ll never be ‘free’, one way or another.

Could it be that I need that respect that people give when they hear that you’re working, and not bumming around during your vacation?

As much as all the reasons above bother me, somehow, no, it’s not about all that.

I need a job because I need some form of definition in my life. Significance, maybe, but not totally.

Definition. Meaning. I need to DO something. Seize the day, you know?

Who am I kidding. I’m not the kind to ’seize the day’ and ‘reach for the stars’ . I make plans for the stars and study why people fail.

I just want to get out there, and do something that I enjoy, and as a bonus, get paid for it. I want to flaunt my traits and suppress my flaws (like procrastination, of which I indulge way too much).

So, if you have a job offer, please, Tell me about it, whatever it is, whether or not you think I’ll like it. Because you wouldn’t know if i would, unless I told you.

Okay? Pretty pretty please?

-

Okay that aside. Holidays are coming to an end and School is drawing close. I miss my ex classmates.

The naive part of me is scornful because since the holidays started, they don’t call and they don’t write (well, text, in today’s context). It’s like they’ve moved on so quickly, which in turn makes me wonder if i ever did make a difference in their lives.

Still, another part of me just wishes them the best, and hope that they’re all happy, wherever they are, whatever they’re doing.

I wonder if I’ll have anyone to lunch with. Hmm.. And I wonder what my new classmates will be like.

And now, I’m back to scrubs! zoom, zoom, zoom!

Things happen. You’re down. The world seems darker..or maybe it’s because its getting late. Still, pretty darn coincidental.

Either way, I’m still with the 5mins of negativity a day routine, and it does work.

Nevertheless, I’m still human, and I have emotions, and my down days.

I’ve been pondering about the friends I have lately and i guess it is true sometimes that they do come through for you at the right time, even unknowingly.

Thanks Jess. (:

What if everyone in the world..couldn’t tell lies, be it white or grave.

Okay, So I still haven’t managed to get a job, and I’m still ‘wasting’ my time away.

Then again, how do you define ‘wasting time’ ?

with a dose of optimism and fresh new varying perspectives, new definitions are born.

One would say ‘ Work now, enjoy later’ . Yet another would say ‘ You don’t know when you’re going to die, so heck, live it up. ‘

I’d say Life is like a tattoo. Some live to regret, some stay true till they die. I guess it all boils down to what you priortise as most valuable to you.

I’d say having good memories is priceless. When I’m 40 and whether I’m rich, or I’m working a 9 to 5 job, I’ll still be able to look back at my teenage years and say ‘ Hell, those were the days. ‘ I wouldn’t have any regrets because, like having a tattoo, I know that this is what I desired most during my teenage years.

And you gotta admit, there are things I can do now that I wouldnt be able to do when I’m older.

So whos to say I’m wasting my time, just by being unemployed during my holidays?