My Blog

He was reluctant at first, for a reason I could also have had but discarded. After some persuasion, he finally agreed and history repeated itself. But this time around, we are totally unfit. The last time we had a session like this dated back a few years ago.

Rule number one: No low blow. Rule number two: No attacking the eyes. Rule number three: No straight punch to the nose. Those are the rules of our sparring session.

After some warm-up, we did not procrastinate. Immediately, I threw a few straight punches. Then, I landed a punch on his chest. He retaliated. He got one buried in my mine. I turn kicked but he blocked most of them. Employing wushu style most of the time, I slapped away his kicks too then charged towards his abdominal area.

Then, a sudden back thrust of his got me. I also had a straight foot stepping onto his stomach, almost hitting his groin. Then, as he attacked, I used a side kick to counter, planting my foot into his waist. When I attacked, I always made an opening. He took advantage of it a few times but lamented that his jabs and crosses were not quick enough.

I was panting. I have lost my stamina. The second round commenced after a few gulps of water and air. He tried kicking but my elbow must have injured his leg.

Inspired by Fight Club and movies directed by Donnie Yen especially SPL and Flash Point, I have decided to be a street fighter.

If both of us were to defend ourselves out there, we could have died in a few minutes. We are martial arts basic learners. Our combat experiences are shallow.

I feel so good to be injured now. My hand is slightly numb. The bottom of my feet hurts as a result of the friction between the rough floor outside and my feet. I feel alive and have realised that without a clouded mind, free of the thoughts of winning or losing or being afraid to be injured, I fought better and fought like a man. It was all about survival and mental acuity. Also, without any rule or style of martial arts governing my mind and body, my relatively free-style moves have earned me points.

There was no emotion when I was fighting. I did not feel angry or frustrated. When Ken Loong hit me, I laughed about it and gave him credit. There was no violence or aggression in me. I did not want to kill him. He is my friend. We were fighting to discover ourselves. Discover how far we could go. Discover how strong we are. Discover how weak we are.

The less fun past was that we did not really punch faces. I always avoided that sort of combat fighting because I know a punch can loosen teeth or swell a mouth. I ain’t scared anymore. Give me a black eye. Extract my teeth. I have no fear anymore. I am totally filled with the passion of fighting. It is an art. It is called martial arts.

If we knew more moves, the spirit might have been heightened. If I was in a ring, I might have lifted him, while he would certainly shrug me off by punching me, and slammed him onto the ring carpet. Or maybe I would apply some submission moves and lock his joints, forcing him to tap out.

My moves are limited. So is Ken’s. But having a session like this makes me feel worth as a man. At least I am not a metrosexual who is afraid of having any scar on his face. At least, I am not a gym maniac who pumps his body with protein, lifts weight and runs on a treadmill like a rat running in a merry-go-round in a cage. I want my body designed as a weapon and also a source of strength.

I want to fight! I want to fight! I want to fight!    

What is the point of having Windows Live Messenger when most of my contacts do not talk to me? If I do not say hi, would they? I guess I am not so popular after all. I think people prefer chatting with me face-to-face. I will make people like to talk to me on Windows Live Messenger and they will like it so much that they would want to meet up with me to talk to me. Then, the same thing goes for talking on phone. They get so high talking on phone with me and they want to see me immediately.

Some people talk vivaciously on MSN but in reality, they treat each other like ice. I had that experience during high school when back then most people were using ICQ. I had so much fun chatting with different people but when we met eye to eye in school, we pretended not to know each other.

The cyber space is always unreal. What is real is what meets the eyes. While the cyber space makes communications convenient as we do not have to physically exist together with another person, I prefer having an offline rendezvous.

What is the point of Friendster? I can upload all my handsome and crazy photos for millions to see if only millions want to see. I can have millions viewing my profile if millions would want to see. I guess if I was a sexy babe, many guys would text me or want to add me. I will enjoy a celebrity’s or luminary’s status. So what? Why would I want to place myself under people’s surveillance?

But opportunities are there. My Friendster profile is also my resume. People would hire me if they want me. People would get me into ads if I was a suitable candidate. But it never happened before. If it happens, it happens. If it does not, so what?

I felt the meaningless of Friendster and MSN as there are better things to do than updating my profile, blogging or being on MSN. I guess I will just have them to update my friends who want to be updated. Maybe Friendster is a means to reach the far and remote. Maybe Friendster is to know how my friends are doing.

Why blog? I am focussing out. I am no longer self centered and do not confine myself within the personal space of My Blog. I do not want to live in my mind. I want to live in reality. Why blog then? To update friends about special events. To cordially invite friends to some breath-taking parties. PVD is coming man! I am reluctant to promote my blog although people always say I do. I am just always making reference to the things I say here. Like what I have said, I wish this blog can answer some of your questions in life. I wish it will enlighten you. If people want to read my blog, be my guest. Those who do not want to, it is not my loss.

Friends have complaint that my entries are long winded. As a matter of fact, in my opinion, they are just thoroughly elaborated. They are not hard to read. It is not flowery. It is comprehensible. Well, maybe what I write is not attractive. Maybe what I write is too cruelly truthful, cold and gloomy. There is no sun here. People do not like rainy days.

It is just some simple thoughts of an ordinary man. I am not a beautiful snow flake. I am just the all dancing and singing crap of this world. When people have Friendster, I need to have it too. When people have MSN, I need to go with the flow. When people shuffle to Trance, I shuffle too. When people drink, I drink too. So many toos maybe I should be named Lilian Too. Maybe King Too? That is why I am always number two. How can I start a trend? When can I have my say? When are people going to eat their food clean and leave their plates shining like mine? I know my babe did follow me. Nobody is following and that is real cool. Because nobody is going to be a copy of me. I am truly an individual. One day, I will wear what I will only wear. One day, I will talk the way I can only talk.

Pay me Astro! I have helped you advertise: "Halo, Astro?" Pay me Digi! I have helped you advertise: "Hellooo brada! Me watching movie! The hero also die! Eh, many people looking at me! Who cares? Who dares scold me? I Taikor mar!" Pay me Canon! "Canon, delighting you always". Pay me the government! I have helped you promote the anti-privacy campaign: "Boss, boss! This copy I sell ah, very good one!" I am doing pro bono for Michael Jackson though. For the King of Pop, everything is free. In fact, I have to pay you because I have violated your copyright. You are the sole proprietor of Moonwalk. You can claim authorship on cock-grabbing and "Aww!"-yelling.

Does anyone write like me? Or do I write like someone? Who talks like me? Who walks like me? Maybe I am an individual to certain extent. Maybe I am a maverick too. I am no longer striving to be different. I am not desperate for being a unique corn flake. I am different. But I am still a follower. I subscribe to Satanism. I am still not a pioneer or entrepreneur. Einstein did not strive to be different. He was. He was who he was and he was recognized. MJ did not strive to be different. He is who he is and he has revolutionised dancing. I am who I am but will I be consequential or influential enough to change the society? If it happens, it happens. I will just stick around.

Why blog? What answer have I got now? To express. Life is all about expressions. But life is not about impressing others. My expressions may impress but it does not matter if they do not. I can’t please the world so I will not. You like me, you join me. You do not like me, what do I care?

It boils down to one and only one reason for writing. To maintain or improvise my writing skill. Writing is my strength. I should not waste it. What is more, pen is always mightier than sword. Hire me, magazines! Hire me, advertising firms! Hire me, creative directors! But I want to be a boss.    

I can’t erase the past so I will not.

What is the point of blogging? It is all words but no action. Not entirely true for me. I did go to Penang and Singapore. I did not go to Tioman but went to Perhentian.

What is the point of blogging? If I was going to write out a plan and implement it, there are other places to do it. Why here? Why for everyone to see? I know I am definitely not showing off. To update them about me? I do not like being pessimistic but maybe I am just realistic. Like they want to know about me. I know I had fun shuffling at the UV Nation party. I knew I had one of the greatest times in my life in Penang. I knew Perhentian was a dream come true for my deepest desire for a romantic love. I knew I nearly came to tears when I was in the Stadium ready to watch WWE. I have been experiencing orgasm after orgasm doing crazy things, doing normal things crazily and doing normal or crazy things with crazy people. My mind refuses to store memories anymore. It wants to feed on moment-by-moment-stimuli. Yesterday has zero value. Tomorrow has anticipated value but not guaranteed. Now has infinite value. I could be brushing my teeth. I could be trimming my beard. I could be bashing someone. There are so many possibilities of who I am, where I could be and what I could be doing but this precious second or minute, I have chosen to be here writing to be?

Famous? I am not even a top blogger in my community. I have heard friends mention names of top bloggers. People have made money out of writing. J. K. Rowling has made money out of writing too. I asked my blogger friend Zheng Hong why those people are the top bloggers but I am not. He said because they are. The standard of their writing is there. I do not usually reveal people’s names here but what the hell. So, if I am not a top blogger, what is being written here must be crap. My friend said that if anyone wants to be a DJ, he or she had better be the best. If not, you are just rubbish. Am I rubbish, Gabriel? For a second, my heart raced with competitive flame but for the next, my mind said: "Just be who you are and write what you want". Then, I remember what Neil Strauss has said: "Be your best self".

I had thought of writing this since long ago and this is it: I am a leaf that sways wherever the wind carries me. My friend Yi Shaun is very goal oriented and focused. So is Kin Foong. Gabriel, however, is an opportunist who uses a net to grab fishes when there are. I have swayed to Zouk through a friend who offered me a modelling and emceeing job there. From there, I have taken off as an ambassador and it was through being an ambassador without ego that I got to know Gabriel. Or am I a jellyfish floating with the tides? If I do land onto the beach, I am free food for birds. But maybe one of my released tentacles will sting what I want to sting. But I will never know whether that is what I want to sting until my tentacle stings it and sends a signal back to me. I have no specific purpose in my life. My purpose is to play, enjoy, experience, experiment and try.

Play what I like to play or things or people I never played.

Enjoy the five senses. Enjoy music through my ears or the moans of a girl making love to me. Enjoy smelling aroma. Enjoy smelling rubbish. At least my nose is functioning. Enjoy eating! Spicy food, sweet food or whatever. Sucky food is ok too. At least now I know which place sells sucky food. At least my taste buds are working. See girls. Watch movies. See my babe smiling at me. Touch the Black Label bottle. Touch the tender breasts. Touch the wet pussy.

Experience my experience through my five senses. Experience interpretations less. Experience happiness, sadness, anger, frustration etc. Experience anything at all. Feel it. Love it.

Experiment what people dare not experiment. Wander in the graveyard during the wee hours in the morning. Maybe one day eat my own sperm. Sometimes, I feel like being a convict and staying in a prison. I feel like having a real fight with someone. Sparring is for pussies. Attacking the private part is wrong. There are too many rules. Why can’t we fight like men as such in Fight Club? I have been serious about establishing an underground Fight Club. When are you gonna spar with me, Kok Thong?

Try new clubs. Try new pubs. Try new restaurants. Try new food. Try not drugs. Try not drugs and try not drugs. Try not things that would jeopardise your health, be it mental or physical. But cigarettes and cigars are cool.

This is Me. Hennessy V.S.O.P. Live life to the full.