Sunday 29 January 2012

Look Up To

I feel like sharing a substantial part of my life with you guys. No it's not about me, or events, or what I dreamt of last night coz I don't feel like telling anyone that I dreamt of flying a home-made mini-chopper over a nuclear plant and got accused as a spy and got hunted down, and when I was cornered, I was talking my way out and trying to distract them so that I can run away.

Oup.

Anyways, in 2009 I subscribed to this man on YouTube and have watched hundreds of his videos, including his famed company's videos, Machinima. He's Seananners, aka Adam Montoya. A renowned YouTuber who does video game commentaries. An icon.

No no no, no judging.

Apart from giving tips and reviews, many of his vids are not game orientated at all. I mean he'll show the vid of him playing, but he'll talk about everything and anything. And it's the constructive everything and anything. An influential and modest person, really.

I truly admire him, so very much.

Maybe you'll think that I'm just exaggerating or over-hyping, but really, he's an important figure in my life. Well, I guess it's the way we view things that are presented to us right on our doorsteps.

Afterall, it's not about the book, it's how we read it.





4 minutes of your time. Means a lot to me if you watch it. (:



That's mine. What's yours?

Sunday 22 January 2012

It's just different

I've been thinking for abit lately.

Why am I extremely attached to the classics in general?
Is it the beat, the tune, the melody, or the lyrics?

Or is it just my blindly-biased crush on the old era? (:
I kind of have the answers but it's just.......


An abstract feeling that few understands.

A dying language, unspoken by the tongue.

A thing that is justified through self-ventured experience, not descriptions.


Well. If you really want to know. I'll try wording it for you. But it would be like reading a text portraying the famous painting of Impression Sunrise by Monet, but the text is written by an inexperienced, insignificant stranger who very well knows nothing except for the fact that it looks like a vague, dully painted landscape on canvas by a 12 years old. You get my drift.

But I'll try.

Well, the classics are just,



Genuine.




They may not have the vocals or catchy melody that appeals to the people today..

But it is the delivery of an impression that's soul touching.
Not through heart-poured emotions, but through sincerity.

I truly admire that, greatly.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Ah yes an example will be about right at this moment.
The problem is, there are tons of examples. Mmm.
How about I'll just pick the song I'm listening to right now.


Btw I'm so addicted to his Baaaaaaaby Jane part.


Baby jane dont leave me hanging on the line.
I knew you when you had no one to talk to.
Now youre moving in high society.
Dont forget I know secrets about you.
I used to think you were on my side.
But now Im no longer sure.
I wish I knew what I know now before.



This song makes me smile inside, everytime (:

Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's different now.
Ahh yes, yes, who cares right xD


Speaking about that, I'm not entirely sure but I think most of you just tend to ignore the songs I put up to share. And might sometimes just scan through instead of reading what I have here. Just a feeling.


Woops? Hahahaa.

Nah don't worry, it's fine by me. (:

Arab Street. Simei. Ma lai ren bros.

It's 5 in the morn, and I've just reached home.
Last night it was plain - ahhh.

Simple. Enjoyable.

It's always nice to just be with people who brings out the true-er side of you.
Oh come on, everyone has it.

And I'm really glad that my parents are treating me as an adult.
They trust me for the trust that I have for myself.

Whoa. Trustception.


Moral of the story this morning: Learn to say no.

Hor, ziyad xD

Monday 16 January 2012

Time

I saw a smart office-dressed, middle aged man walking at a park today.
He's holding his parents' hands, probably 80+ in age.

Strolling. Talking. Enjoying. Cherishing.

Some of you think that I'm very close to my parents since I'm the only child.
Unfortunately, that's not the case. :l

Honestly it's a worry, but I'm too lazy to do anything about it.

I can't picture myself being that man.
Can you?

Saturday 14 January 2012

They say it's bad to keep it in, but sometimes, it's even worse to let it out.

Don't you think so?





Had to do this song before I sleep.



2am state of mind and voice. Sorry.

I know, nice mic stand right.

Friday 13 January 2012

Sweet Dreams

I hate them.

I really do.


Do portals connect dreams and reality together?
If that's the case, I hope I'll remember to find the door in my dreams.

And break it.


Becos' I only hate them when my two feet's on the ground.


I've been dreaming.

Monday 9 January 2012

North Korea Documentaries

I've been watching quite a few docs abt North Korea.
Yeah, usual stuffs.

Fear. Brainwash. Pretence.

But this doc is a little, a little different.
Please do watch the whole doc if you have the time.
20mins.



You'll understand the picture. (; (wink)











5:30 moment of the last vid.


It's rare for me to go awwww.

But I just did, quietly.
Without actually saying aww.

But still.

Sunday 8 January 2012

Sunday 1 January 2012

Words of silence

As a kid I've always been following them for overnight fishing around Singapore and sometimes, Malaysia too. It wasn't really my own hobby. I guess it's just passed down. But the interest died down a couple of years back when I didn't feel the fun of it. From then on, luring me away for a fishing trip was quite a challenge for them.

But last night, I changed my mind and accompanied my dad and uncle - for fishing.
(Sorry pb dudes, didn't join coz I didn't want to spread my illness to you)

They brought me to a dark, unlit, empty stretch of beach at Changi. Set up my own small 1 man plastic sheet on the sand, in front of the waves. Put on a jacket, crossed my legs, and stared straight ahead.

Soon after that, it was midnight. The ships in the distance had a joyful battle of their loud horns, and shot flares into the sky.

Ahh. 2012. (:

When the flares disappeared, I wondered why there aren't many people around to witness this quiet side of Singapore for their 'countdown'. It was just the three of us, plus a handful of moving headlights at the other corner of the beach - another group of fishermen.


And then, something got me.


My dad and uncle. Just seating beside their rods, soothed by the sea breeze. Hours of dead silence. I remember being told to be quiet when I was fishing with them as a kid.

"You'll chase the fish away."   xD

But now I'm thankful to realize, that it's more than that.


Silence is a special form of discipline in fishing, and possibly everything, too.

A form of respect, that we're finding food first-hand, for our family.
An opportunity to have a purely undistracted, and clear mind.
A time to be humbled by the creations of the stars, land and sea.
A stage to have the birds-eye view over current happenings.

But most of all, I love viewing it as a tool to communicate with those around you.

I may be melodramatic here (very), but it's as though my dad and uncle were talking to me, in silence. Hmmm. What's famous for telepathy? Stars Wars? Bananas In Pajamas? Vampires? No? Hahaha. xD

I felt as though I was being filled by their words, advice, and lessons. Hahaha call me crazy, for all I care! But I really experienced it. Maybe it's just me getting through their perspectives and wondering -

What would they do if they're in my shoes? Just maybe.


Well, their silence spoke to me, and here I am writing. [:




They're not quiet people only when they face the sea, they're generally quiet in life too.
Not just vocally.

If you don't mind, may I share something about them?
Please don't see it as me being overproud of them. (:

I didn't know my uncle was a respected football player in the local region. He never spoke to me a single word about his glory. In his prime, the word of his name got passed around by players. He even got invited to join a singapore squad but he declined. I was told he wanted to stay off the media, and man I truly respect that decision.

And for my dad, I respect his silence of self-sacrifice. During his early 20s he somehow managed to be finger-picked as a pilot. Private planes, or some sort. But he knew that to proceed to the last stage of that career, he needs a sum of money for the last course. He turned down the offer, not even asking his parents for aid as he knew that his family's financially status wasn't good back then. What a man.


I hope to learn everything from them, someday.

Even if they're not going to say a word, I'll listen.

Listen to the words of silence.

They are priceless.