After nearly 72 hours, the sashimi's still swimming in the depths of my belly. Dancing on the surface of my stomach juices with the salty pork, dumplings, yam cakes.. yea, and the chilli crab's windsurfing somewhere in my digestive pool. I overate; I haven't eaten more than my fill since.. the last buffet at the same place last year. It doesn't even taste that good. Newpark. Some place near Farrer which serves food which you just can't stop eating.

Jx's recommendation: The peanut paste dumplings with sesame seeds sprinkled on the top. I ate two. I fought for two. I was the winner.


I've been watching Anger Management, twice in the last three days. Friday was an off that flew away without a trace. Saturday was uneventful. Sunday was a Lit session with Teck, and nothing else. The most exciting thing, probably was the DotA game of many reverses. We thought we lost. Then the tide was turned. Then it slapped back at us, before we held them. Won by the narrowest of margins (kill ratio was 51-15 at one point). Looks like keeping everything inside isn't going to work out.

NJ was in a weiqi tournament just a hundred metres ago. I was supposed to play.. and I didn't. I left them. Didn't reply. Just didn't feel like going back.


Soccer team's on hold. I've no inkling why it's so important to me. I mean, it's been on my mind for quite some time, but it started when NIE Legends got their act together. I mean, the team's been on the cards for a while. But somehow the process has to speed up.

Zp's not really keen, though he's in. Bobby's together with Zp. Salas has so far refused all invitations. Maybe only Leo and me are the factors right now. Probably Kanu will jump on, as Leo already has promised. Tay coming on? What if Tay doesn't? But I have a good feeling somehow, despite all the negatives. Rome wasn't build in a day. There's a good chance we'll just play one match, and never see each other again. I see us coming together though, taking out everyone that stands in our way. I want to taste victory.

I wanna WIN.


WIN



WIN




It's never been so important before.

Seasons change, people change, but my feelings for you will never change."

Sounds cliché, doesn't it?

They do, inevitably I guess. Because I'm not the me of yesterday, and you're not the you of three days ago. I shouldn't say "what if", because if that really had happened, I might not want what I want now. It's all a matter of perspective. And circumstances.

What do we want in life? the perennial question which there is a multitude of answers, but none of them really a right fit.

Alt-tabbing here and there. Trying desperately to get a dota game going, to no avail. Urging myself to detach from unpleasant thoughts which serve no purpose.

I sat in the BV06 last week, and despite yearning for the priviledge since the year before, found myself squirming uncomfortably in different awkward positions. Trying to catch some sleep before putting on my helmet again. Helmets weren't ever the issue in the recovery; no one could see anyway. Nor was sleep ever a problem, unless oversleeping was a sin. So ends the outfield which I did nothing yet inexplicably exhausted myself for the first time. One down, one more to go.

Do some things really matter? What really does, and what doesn't.. who has the authority to judge, to set the standard, to define and ridge the borders. Who wants the responsibilty?

Suppose.. the key is actually letting go. To clear all doubts, dispel any traces of unnecessary despair. To actually accept that some things cannot be reversed, and cannot be changed even if we turn back time.

Peeved.. that my dear BTT forgot about me. Refused my no. 7, deprived me my 11. Not. It really doesn't matter. It isn't a team I want to join. But I felt anger, momentarily. Red hot, burning fire.. then suddenly calm. Distorted by ripples of annoyance at idiocity. I've got Zp, Leo and Bob in my team. All of them easily outstrip anyone in NIE Legends save Alaric. If Tay comes on board.. it's a complete team.

Pointless? Some things just are.

Drats. Just lost my phone. With it goes my whole list of friends. As many people so far have mentioned, the SIM card is actually the painful one. 6230i, less than three months.. and it's..

Gone.

New start, no old messages.. rather it be something else.

IT'S outfield again next week, my second last venture into the wild of my NSF life. Three days, two nights, normal with regards to normal standards. BUT, an outfield is nevertheless, still a nightmare to be reckon with. There's Aw coming with us for his maiden outfield (finally), and thus the BV tussle reaches an unsatisfactory conclusion; Aw gets it by default of a driving license.

I find myself part of NIE Legends, a mixture of BTT 17 and 18 players, without any hint or prior knowledge. Blessing or curse.. it remains to be seen. But I pretty much like my description.

An excellent ball-player on the court, Jiaxuan is a real delight to watch when in full flow. A wonderful passer of the ball, Jiaxuan has the ability to dictate the pace of the game... (rest of the profile is at http://nielegends.blogspot.com. I'm laughing too much to jot it all down) So now I'm a NIE Legend. No. 11. Stated above is potentially untrue, but it's flattering in a way.

Potential dilemma though. What about Zp and gang?

And there's still the 20 bucks given up due to jay-walking.


Going through e-mails, old ones, ancient ones.. and they cut me up. Like shards of a broken heart.

"I can remember, Heah use to say 'book out liao, book out liao. Faster go go go'..."

Heng paused for a moment. As the memories came back. Slowly. And old flame flickered in his eyes.

"Jie Kai used to take five or six bags by himself, like this," he mimicked, scooping up the trash in his hairy arms "and then sling over his back. It's was hilarious, the way he acted garang. It was just the way he was."

"Then Lam would be behind him, saying 'that guy siao ah?' and kaobei-ing about Jie Kai's garang-ness (eg. 'wah lan eh, he want carry everything arh?'). Loo'll just step in and say 'He want to do it, your business meh? why you want to care?' That black face gangster.. Then Zhiyong will step in and say 'don't argue, don't argue! everything's fine!' and Loo'll give Zhiyong the full blast of his gangster talk 'wanna fight is it? I got talk to you meh? Why you want to say so much? I say only mah, need you to teach me meh?'"

We had a huge gwaff at that; sounded exactly like Loo would have done it. The Loo we knew.

Heng continued. "Zhiyong will then go behind and start muttering to himself 'Okay loh I don't say anything lor.. not my fault lor.' Loo won't let him go; he'll just keep shouting stuff like 'eh if you are a man, stop and talk leh. Fight la! Don't talk to yourself!' Zi Jian and me will be somewhere in front shaking our heads. Zi Jian," he paused, "never got involved. He just laughed."

"Just one year ago eh?"


Just one year ago.

France played better football.. and lost to an Italian side who fought rather than played. The French penalty wasn't warranted, Ribery ran like a madman rather than one of purpose, and Zidane lost to the demons within himself.. but if you look at Italy, I can only see three men: Zambrotta, Cannavaro and Gattuso. France played as a team, flirted with danger as only men with courage would, danced with adventure as the Italians let themselves be intimitated.

I've hated the French team ever since they beat the same Italians in 2000. I roared with laughter and undisguised glee at their demise four years ago. I totally despise Henry; why is he great, when he can't perform in big matches? when he can't make his teammates better? he dives better than Lehmann, and that's a feat in itself.

France beat my beloved Spain.. took out the samba boys of Brazil, broke the hearts of Figo and co.

But dignity and respect, the immense will to win.. I never thought I'll see that in France. And for once, I rooted for them.

It wasn't the wimp Henry, or the "exciting" young Frank Ribery, maybe the talented Malouda could claim credit.. it was the spirit of Thuram, Vieira and Makelele which stood out. Old horses, making the last push, wanting so much for the final triumph. Knowing that they had been here before, at this stage, that it didn't mean anything if one won the battles but lost the war.. Truly, France are dead and buried after Germany 2006.


Forza Italia. But remember the French.

Ran and ran and ran.. AHM training causes my soles to come off, my calves to ache, my thighs to cramp.. 8km on Mon, sprinting on Wed, another 8km on Fri, which adds up to about twenty. Not bad for a quick return to PT.

Being nice is.. hard. It takes alot to smile, make cheer, when all you wanna do is run out of camp.

Monday off, is of course, essential. Italy-France aka major disappointment, is nonetheless a World Cup final, and there are few things that would give me greater pleasure, than seeing France lose.

No offence to the Germans, Italians, Portugese and.. French. But their emergence as semi-finalist has left me deeply disillusioned. Save for probably Italy, I totally detest the other three teams. And Del Piero's not even playing so why should I care.

Thankfully, Brazil is not in.


She's in the clouds above me. High high above. Somewhere I can't reach. Only the flutter of her wings.. the gentle breeze of serenity. Tells me, she's.. still there.

I realise.. I may have to learn how to fly.