There was a time where I wrote spontaneously and hadn't anything in mind before I started. Everything was murky and uncertain, but as I poured out in between the lines, it all settled, and I had a satisfactory end product that was birthed out of pure inspiration. I like that.

That bit of skill has been dimmed by the constrictive way we do essays now.

Watched Secret for the 13th time. It still drew out the same, or even more pronounced sentiments from me, and it didn't help that I also saw an innocent little post-it. I don't know why I let it stick in place for thus long and that I haven't bothered to peel it off either.
I endeavour to figure out why it makes me feel like this.
The excellent music pieces?
The deft and wit of the story?
The chaste romance and its melancholy, as well as the frightful possibility of never seeing the person you love again.

Or I'm just a big softie who has cotton-fluffs in the cavity that should be my heart.
I like the movie and it's still fresh to me in essentials, lest for the plot. I like chaste romance.
My tastes don't fade away too quickly I think.

*

Took a short break at the asterisk (*) to fry scrambled eggs. Tasty.
In the span of coming up with a presentable post for the rest of the human race, I had gone from hungry to being satiated then to being hungry again, and also scalded my hand while brewing coffee.

I count 4 things going through my mind while I was letting the hot liquid trickle into the mug, and my phone rang very loudly and the trickle was diverted onto my left hand. F-, it was hot and I threw the mug down and brown mocha sprayed everywhere. Did a slip-shod job of cleaning up. Must let my mother lay her eyes on the aftermath, seeing that it was her who called and only asked a silly question.

Now I struggle to recall what were the 4 things.

1. Whether or not to plunge into the National Poomsae Competition in June. Already have a Karate Kata Tournament waiting for me soon, and I'm very reluctant to put more time with TKD but I fear I might miss the fun.

2. Green font on post-it.

3. Can't remember.

4. Can't remember.

I think you can safely divulge your secrets to me, especially if you only need to offload. Because I will forget things that aren't really my concerns. Seeing that I've already forgotten things that went through my brilliant mind 20 minutes ago. I realise there is some irony in what I've just said, because I asserted that my intellect is brilliant and yet I was forgetful. But there isn't any lucid link between remembering trivials and my gift. Let's move on.

I think I will let the post-it lie and spring up on me another time. I want to contest my feelings then against the sentiments now.

A lot of unpleasant things have happened these days at home. My role in this family unit has expanded, and this reels me to the fact that I'm adult and that the eldest son has more to do in upholding the family unit than cruising through the day and living to his whims and fancies. I would very much like to live like a tiny kid or wild-child without too much cares.
But sadly, this option isn't available.
And I have to grow up according to expectations.

Funny how I think of a cockroach when I wrote adult. I do not fear the brown-black abhorrent thing, and I prefer to kill it with a weapon without staining my hands and feet.
Some people would feel otherwise, and to placate their ego, I will say that most people have respect for the roach and will gladly let it pass before them. They prefer to stay far away. Haha.

I think that instead of waging wars and planning elaborate terrorist strikes on civilisation, everybody should turn to destroy the immortal cockroach because it is a nuisance, an eyesore and the symbol of disgusting.

I am not being silly. My silliness is usually a symptom of a lack of sleep, hunger, severe deprivation of comfort and amusement and also heartbreak. None of the above apply now. I conclude I am rather rational.

These four-days have been really harsh on my system and it was self-inflicted.
Thursday, I had a really hard and foreign workout with Kah Kee and it really hurt my chest and it still is abit tender to the touch now.
Friday's Karate was quite hard too; Saturday I ran to Changi Village at a hot time, and when I got back to Pasir Ris, I carried on by doing several sprints.
Sunday was gym again with Kah Kee and Hakim and we did three mega-supersets with big muscle groups. Hakim kept telling me I was crazy. I was very winded but glad from the -ah- feeling of exertion. Night was Karate again and I slept very well when I finally got the chance to rest.

With regard to weights training, Shern asked me if I took any supplements to get to now and she thought it wasn't possible to get good muscle without supplements. The funny thing was that, when I did drink protein shakes, I didn't get as much results as now. And when I drank the delicious flavours, I was a relative beginner and by rights should have gained more.

But growth and improvement isn't reaped from taking magic pills, but by good training methods and recovery. You need to punish/bully your body and then answer the responses by eating good food and resting more. Protein shakes aren't a part of the mix.

End of lesson.

Where do I get my wisdom? I have vague ideas. But maybe when I share my tastes, you can gain more ideas.

This book is a good read and rights the stupid, slanted image typical Americans, (a synonym for ignorant) have of Islam and explains the distortions of the meaning of the word jihad, and how come so many silly people are suicide bombers-they have been misled.
: The Faithful Spy
It's by a reporter, Alex Berenson. If you have the same taste as me and you want to read the book and you normally go to White Sands library, then you gotta wait until I finish reading it at least 3 more times.

This song is sweet.
: 'Way Back into Love'

(Drew Barrymore)
I've been living with a shadow overhead,
I've been sleeping with a cloud above my bed,
I've been lonely for so long,
Trapped in the past,
I just can't seem to move on!

(Hugh Grant)
I've been hiding all my hopes and dreams away,
Just in case I ever need them again someday,
I've been setting aside time,
To clear a little space in the corners of my mind!

(Both)
All I want to do is find a way back into love.
I can't make it through without a way back into love.
Oooooh.

(Drew Barrymore)
I've been watching but the stars refuse to shine,
I've been searching but i just don't see the signs,
I know that it's out there,
There's got to be something for my soul somewhere!

(Hugh Grant)
I've been looking for someone to shed some light,
Not somebody just to get me through the night,
I could use some direction,
And I'm open to your suggestions.

(Both)
All I want to do is find a way back into love.
I can't make it through without a way back into love.
And if I open my heart again,
I guess I'm hoping you'll be there for me in the end!
Oooooooh, Ooooooh, Ooooooh.

(Drew Barrymore)
There are moments when I don't know if it's real
Or if anybody feels the way I feel
I need inspiration
Not just another negotiation

(Both)
All I want to do is find a way back into love,
I can't make it through without a way back into love,
And if I open my heart to you,
I'm hoping you'll show me what to do,
And if you help me to start again,
You know that I'll be there for you in the end!

I realised that I've always had my picture with a certain individual, just that there's a lot of other people in it also.

Wild dreams are reserved for bed. Then you wake up.

I think that we presume the world cares about what we say when we blog.

What else have I not said? I forgot.

FINIS.