Categories
Snippet of My Life

Red Pills Blue Pills – A Dooku Series – Snippet Of My Life Episode 40

Author’s note: This Dooku series holds a special place in my heart. These are stories inspired by real-life events including things that I have observed. As always, all persons fictitious disclaimer applies.

Dooku is one fine journalist known for his sharp eyes for details, sharp tongue for questions, and a sharp mind for analysis. In the office, he is nicknamed Sharpku.

Despite his sharp qualities, Dooku is terrible at playing office politics. So he always ends up with work that no one wants to do for various reasons. Either it is too tedious or too risky.

One day, Dooku has been summoned into the boss’s office.

“Sharpku, here is an important assignment for you,” said his boss.

In his mind, Dooku’s immediate response was “Oh no, not again.” The word “important” from his boss always triggers the fear within.

“I need you to head to Jujubaba Island and investigate why the divorce rate is near zero and the marriage rate is so much lower than the national standard,” continued his boss.

“Why doesn’t this get covered by the local media?” Dooku inquired.

The boss chuckled as he has been prepared for such question.

“It doesn’t! The islanders are not talking. No one does!”

Dooku arrives at Jujubaba Island by ferry and checks into a hotel by noon. He needs to set up some interviews on relationships that work and relationships that don’t. That part is easy as there are local agencies happy to recruit interviewees with a fee.

After the pleasantry, Dooku then asked, “So Jolene, if I may ask and according to the submitted background, you have dated Pete for three months?”

“Yes,” smiled Jolene.

“According to the survey both of you have submitted, you were very much in love? You had even considered marriage?”

Both Pete and Jolene smile and nod in unison.

“But what made you two separate after … three months?” asked Dooku. The duration is very suspicious as well. Because almost all relationships in Jujubaba Island end within three months.

“Pete would be a cheater if I marry him and that would make me very sad,” spoke Jolene with a sense of hesitation.

“And she would take away all my family fortune and disappear,” said Pete softly.

Dooku sat back with hands at the back of his head, dumbfounded by such preposterous revelation, and asks, “But how do you know that?”

Again, both Pete and Jolene smile and answer in unison, “We just know.”

The following interviews yield the same results. The couples somehow know how the relationship would end and have made joint decisions within three months.

After days of not having any progress, Dooku’s sharp eyes have guided him to a temple with a sign saying “Islander Only”. He tries to enter but is denied. He tries to talk to the monks entering or leaving the temple but no one talks.

Until he finds an old male staff willing to talk with a large sum of money. Dooku counts the notes in his wallet and thinks, “If I can wrap up the story tonight, I can leave this island by noon tomorrow. I don’t need the rest of the company expenses.”

Dooku agrees and the old male staff leads him into a local bar with no customer. Dooku does not feel comfortable as the place looks dark and shady. But his thirst for the story brings him all the way here. And he is so close to the ending.

Dooku hands the old male staff the money and the old male staff begins to speak.

“The answer is surprisingly simple, Dooku. Everyone you have interviewed has taken the red pills. Almost everyone on this island has chosen the red pill.”

“Red pills?”

“Indeed. Produced by the monk in the temple for islanders only, the red pill reveals the future of a relationship through a dream within three months of being together. It is very accurate because both in the relationship will dream the same dream. Then they can make a decision knowing the future.”

“This is a remarkable story,” exclaimed Dooku while busy taking notes.

“This is not the whole story,” grimaces the old male staff.

“There are more?”

“Indeed. Life is about choices. There is also a blue pill. Once taken, the person will be immune to the effect of the red pill. That is to say, he or she will never know the future. The effect of the blue pill is permanent and cannot be reversed.”

“That is extraordinary!” exhaled Dooku looking at the old male staff in disbelief.

With a sharp analytical mind, Dooku asks, “But how do I know that such pills exist?”

The male staff starts to laugh. Kekekekeke. Dooku looks lost and all of a sudden, a group of monks enter the bar and approach Dooku’s table. One of them says, “You will.”

Two monks hold down Dooku and the third one says, “Normally, we would give our people a choice of red or blue. For you, we are going to give you both colors!”

“What would happen to me?” asks Dooku in desperation.

The third monk ignores the question and continues, “You see, this story of yours cannot leave this island.”

“And I really need the money and my job,” adds the old male staff as he has tipped the monk before meeting Dooku.

“You are really terrible in temple politics. Have a good trip, Dooku.” With that says, the third monk forces the red and blue pills into Dooku’s mouth.

As the pills travel inside Dooku’s body, his entire life flashes before him. The past, the present, and the future distorted with no clarity. There is a vague knowledge of information but the endings are never revealed. Dooku is tormented by knowing but yet not knowing, forever stays in limbo, paralyzed, drown in this distorted alternative reality unable to leave. In the end, there is nothing to see, nothing to analyze, and no question to be asked, for nothing makes sense no more.

Categories
Diary

When I Attempt to Write Short Pieces – Part III

This is my third attempt at writing short pieces. They were composed between December 18 to 19 this year. The bulk of this work was written before my visit to PS.Cafe. Some were added and others were edited after the visit. This post is dedicated to those who are brave enough to embark on a challenging love journey for it is an experience of a lifetime.

PS. There is a part one and a part two.

Time doesn’t heal
It is what you do over time that may
Healing is not a guaranteed process
Scar may run deep, death may come

Time isn’t a safety net
Story may unfold in the least expected way
Let the universe does her thing
Indulge in this very moment that comes”

“05:34am Metaphorically Speaking” by Wilfrid Wong

I have spoken all that I have
I have done all that I can
All we need is for you to take one step forward
And meet me halfway”

“Please” by Wilfrid Wong

Time is like a pendulum
It swings from one end to another
Time is like a second hand
The end of the cycle is the start of another

But I don’t want either when I’m with you
For I want to freeze those moments
When our hearts and souls become one”

“One” by Wilfrid Wong

Who am I to judge when I am not perfect
Who are you to judge when you don’t know me”

“Listen without Prejudice” by Wilfrid Wong

The norms are for the society
To effectively manage the vast average
You are not an average
Why be confined by the norms?”

“The Norms” by Wilfrid Wong

It is my wish
That you continue to have control
But allow me to work within
Your frame and boundaries

I do not wish to change you
And you shall continue to be
True to your heart
But know that I too to mine
For I can’t deny what my heart desires”

“Wishes” by Wilfrid Wong

You take the same route to work every morning
The same route back home every evening
Wouldn’t it nice
To take a detour every so often
See the road less traveled
Have a little adventure
Explore as kids do
Put those routine thoughts aside
Enjoy the moment
Experience the unexpected
Because this moment you own
Is now”

“Would It Be Nice?” by Wilfrid Wong

The roses in my garden
Bud, blossom, wither
The cycle repeats itself
That’s how I feel
In between the days I see you”

“My Roses” by Wilfrid Wong

Age is catching up on me
There are things I cannot do
But one promise I can make
You will always be in my heart”

“If You Allow” by Wilfrid Wong

Had Romeo not taken the poison
Misjudging that Juliet was dead
My favorite play would have had a happy ending
But then again
We would not have come to know
How intense their love was for each other”

“R & J” by Wilfrid Wong

I went into a deep sleep
There was no dream to remind me
What my mind has gone through

All I remember is
This overwhelming sense of happiness
So, thank you”

“Gamsahabnida” by Wilfrid Wong

Time does not heal
Kisses do”

“12:37pm”
Categories
Fantasy & Sci-fi Foreign Movie Reviews

A Werewolf Boy – A 2012 Korean Movie

I don’t usually fancy random notifications that stream into my mobile phone. When VIU notified me that A Werewolf Boy is now available for streaming, my natural instinct kicked in, and just when I was about to ignore the notification, the words “Park Bo-young” caught my eyes.

A 2012 Korean movie featuring Park Bo-young.

She is an award-winning actress in Korea – though you must know by now that in South Korea, there are lots and lots of competitions from music to movies to TV-series to what-have-you.

I am a huge fan of Park Bo-young and have been watching her TV series whenever available. Here in Singapore though, K-dramas or K-movies especially the older ones can be limited.

Hence, I have got to give it to VIU and their well-crafted notification (as words are limited). Last night I have attempted to watch A Werewolf Boy but I fell asleep shortly after it had started. This afternoon, I was more alert and have watched the entire 2-hour movie in one go.

While it is an eight years old movie, I still enjoyed watching it. I am familiar with how werewolf themed stories work in the Western world. And it is refreshing to see it from the Korean’s perspective.

OK. Spoilers from this point onwards.

Song Joong-ki played the werewolf boy. His acting was superb. He really acted like … an animal not being able to speak or write and behaved like an untamed wolf. And the trigger for him to transform from his human form is when his loved one was endangered.

Neat eh?

Somehow, in this Korean version, the werewolf was created through a secret government project in an attempt to create super soldiers. I don’t really get why there is only one of them.

Not surprisingly, Park Bo-young was the one who could tame the werewolf.

At the end, when Park Bo-young asked the werewolf boy to wait for her return, the boy waited for decades.

Oh my.

He really loved her.

And yes, Park Bo-young’s acting is amazing, as ever.

Categories
Book Reviews Fiction

A Chinese Novel “Forget You, I Cannot” by 寧靜 – 忘記你我做不到

I have picked up this book from either Hong Kong or Taiwan a long time ago. Three unrelated orphans – one boy and two girls – had been adopted by a couple in Hong Kong. Can these orphans fall in love with each other while maintaining family love at the same time? What if their adopted parents understood and supported such a notion? Would their love ultimately destroy the very family that brought them together?

A Chinese novel

The story started off light as the kids grew up together. But it gets darker when the youngest sister – also the rebellious one – fell in love with her brother but her brother and her elder sister have already fallen in love with each other.

Forget You, I Cannot is a story told from the youngest sister’s perspective. This book is a page-turner. There are a good number of plot twists to keep me hooked till the end.

The story is also a tragedy, which is hinted at through the preface. For those who do not read Chinese, here is my attempt to translate the preface for you.

This is my confession.

In my moment when life and death coexist, I write this so that I can see clearly the things that I have done are so stupid and ignorant.

In my memory, he is small as dust. So small that can be stuck in every corner, living in every space.

Because of loving him, I keep on doing my best, but also keep on doing the wrong things. In the end, he is far away from me; he hates me so much.

Therefore, I always think that the most pathetic person in this world is me. In fact, the one who has shaped my current self is no one but me.

My youth can no longer reach the time when it should have blossomed, now withered and destroyed.

Too bad, we can only live once.

I want to see him – my brother – and tell him that I am sorry. But I know an apology is just an apology. It does not wipe away my mistakes.

Darkness has come too early. The waking hours are coming too late.

There is nowhere to turn back. All I can see now is Heaven and Earth.”

Preface from the book 忘記你我做不到 written by 寧靜
Categories
My Hobbies

The Tale of Cats – A Doodle

Recently, I have read a short story from Folklore written by Italo Calvino. It is called The Tale of Cats. Long story short, a girl has discovered a cauliflower once lifted, there was a ladder leading to a world of cats. She went down, helped the cats, and was rewarded with a delicious dinner, a nice dress, and a ring.

When the stepmother heard of the girl’s story, she sent her daughter to the world of cats. Instead of working as the girl did, the daughter did nothing and didn’t get the same reward at all.

The ending was rather abrupt. Both the stepmother and her daughter died and the girl has found a nice man, a happily ever after.

Titled as “The Tale of Cats”

That story has inspired me to draw. There is cauliflower, the ladder, the cats, and the couple. I am thinking of using a Japanese theme. Hence, the Sake, inari sushi with prawn and avocado, salmon dumplings, and saba fish.

Looking at this drawing makes me happy. It brings back fond memories. It is good to be with someone you want to be with. I am happy for the girl.

Categories
Diary

Making Music

My guitarist Jason and I agree on many things and equally disagree on many things. For instance, he thinks we – our old band – should only publish music when we are totally ready. The recording has to be close to perfection. So we kept on practicing until the band went into hiatus. And we have published nothing.

Jason is not wrong to think of the long term goal. But how does it matter when we don’t even give it a shot and see how it goes? So recently, I have published two songs I have written in 2020 on YouTube. They are My Princess and Waiting (the latter should be renamed to Waiting 2020 because I have written a song with the same title back in 2000). The recording is far from perfect. But rather than to concern about a future that I don’t even know what it will be, I am living in the moment. In fact, I am pretty happy that I have done that and keen to see where this will go, even if it is going nowhere. There may not have a future. But all I have is now.

Jason and I do agree that recording music professionally is a painful process. We both prefer live jamming. Because when a song is being recorded with the intent to publish, it is made permanent. You have to get each track right and it can restrictive. Live jamming though, is a different experience.

You get to go with the flow relying on the chemistry of the musicians. You can break all the rules. That guitar solo is supposed to be 8 bars? Why not extend it on the fly and see how it goes? I would be feeding Jason with the chords and different strumming patterns that got intensified as the guitar solo soared. We did not have to preset the duration. We just go with the feel. Jason would go all high on his guitar solo. I would strum my guitar and at times, do vocal ad-lib. We improvised. We fed onto each other’s energy. We did not know where the song would be heading. But each live jamming was a unique experience.

Truth be told, we did record our live jamming and the majority are not that good (best for private consumption). But occasionally, there is some really good music created in the most unexpected way.

I would describe that to be our magical moment, made possible when we break all the rules, improvise, go with the flow, and live in the moment.

Categories
Diary I See I Write

A Wine Gathering

M and I are from the same division. He belongs to a program that I am spending half of my time with. And since I am not full time with that program, I am often seen as an affiliate instead. I don’t have a lot of allies in that program. M is a good friend of mine.

One day, M visited my neighborhood and we had lunch at a bakery. He is moving onto another role in our organization and with that comes a promotion. I like the Caucasian mindset. I also like reporting to Caucasians. When it comes to ranks and promotion, the sky is the limit. Reporting to Chinese bosses, the message often would be: be contented with what you have. Indian bosses, the vast majority won’t give a beep about my career. Speaking from someone who has reported to sixteen different bosses in a span of fourteen-ish years in this organization. Though one may say, the time has changed as the world is moving towards better diversity and inclusiveness.

Back to that lunch we had, which was on a Thursday as both of us have to attend a weekly meeting together, M suggested to have a wine event on the 17th with K at his home. The date was perfect as it was the first evening of my 2-week long compliance leave.

It was a 10 mins ride to reach his place. I was late and his friend G working in the fund business was already there. What a posh home! There were paintings from – quoting from him – famous artists and there is one small elephant painting M drew when he was 12. He showed me the cases of silverware he brought from the UK dated back to the 1940s. Those are beautiful. Black handles with small colorful adornment, casually lying on top of each other. “Why not arrange them nicely?”, asked I. M replied that they got reshuffled due to transportation. Still, I would have put each fork and spoon, and utensil in the rightful place. These are antiques! I had the compulsion to do it for him. But I have resisted.

M said that he doesn’t like French people. G agreed. I didn’t say a thing. I used to have a number of French friends when I was working in Paris. Sure, French people, in general, do seem to have their pride and perhaps still wonder why the world adopts English as the international language (I was once told by a French that the world was close to choosing French instead). I can see from the French’s perspective. Especially when their culture is so refined. Fashion. Food. Wine. Art and monuments. In any case, given the history of the British and the French, I can understand the general sentiment.

Later the evening, when I sensed that the topic of the French M and G so passionately deliberated has fainted away, I casually mentioned that I like the sound quality and the design of the “transformer” speaker. A high-end French product sold in MBS mall. To that M was very pleased with his purchase. The speaker can get loud, really loud as he briefly demonstrated.

I am often not a fan of red wine. Last evening changed my mind. We started with a 1.5 liter of Sao Joao’s Quinta do Poco do Lobo Cabernet Sauvignon 1996. It is 24 years old Portugal wine. The age doesn’t make a good wine of course. It depends on the year of the grape. But to have a wine that is still drinkable after such a long period of storage is pretty remarkable. The cock was waxed and the bottle was huge.

Next, we had Artadi’s Pasos de San Martin Garnacha 2015. It was a Spanish wine and I really love that. Then we had Faiveley’s Mercurey Rouge 2017. It was even better! By the time we got to the fourth one, I was about to fall asleep. I didn’t have much, though I remember it as sweet and nice.

Yes, I am terrible in describing wine.

I am not a fan of a large group gathering. My ideal group size is two. Three is okay. By the time K arrived, I got slightly quieter. F then arrived – a great storyteller by the way and also a good friend of mine from that program. The party lit up. I was mainly the observer and spoke when we broke into a smaller group chat. Finally, when G’s friend who is a young teen student (possibly rich Indonesian Chinese) arrived, everyone was animated and liven. By then, I was the audience enjoying the entertainment and the wine.

Throughout the evening, many stories were shared. Stories that I can imagine some may balk at because it is not right. I don’t judge for I am a pragmatic person. The moral compass is a thing that people use to judge others or fear being judged. “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone” is one of my favorite quotes. Throughout the night, I listened with bewilderment. These people have experienced lives in a unique way and they have stories to tell.

“You are quiet”, K asked. I wanted to chip in. But my stories are much darker, more emotional, and personal, which did not suit the theme of physical conquest. Like my friend N once said to me, while I have an alpha male mentality deep inside, I am gentle from the outside.

I smiled to K in return and said nothing.

I love polaroid photo. So retro.
Categories
Diary

When I Attempt to Write Short Pieces – Part II

Previously, I have attempted to write short pieces (and there is a part three). And they are rather well received. So I am attempting to have a second round, with ten additional pieces. Enjoy.

PS. I would like to dedicate this post to those who share their stories and inspire me to write.

Today I am done running
I shall face my witness, my judge, and my executioner
I shall accept, come what may

Today you are my witness, my judge, and my executioner”

“Come What May” by Wilfrid Wong

What does falling in love feel like?
It is that sense of insecurity and reassurance, of anxiety and peace, of irrationality and determination, and of sorrow and joy

If you experience all of the above, hold onto it, treasure those feelings

That is the most beautiful thing you have ever experienced in life”

“Love is a Rollercoaster” By Wilfrid Wong

At times you are passionate
Other times you seem cold and distance
I am a slower learner
Given time I can read you better
And finish up this manual of you
Please be patience
That is all that I am asking”

“How To” by Wilfrid Wong

There are words that I shouldn’t have said
But I said it recklessly anyway
There are words that you shouldn’t have said
But I took it quietly anyway”

“Words” by Wilfrid Wong

Life can be full of surprises
Some you like
Others you don’t
You can’t pick what you like and what you don’t
But with an open heart, an open mind, and open arms
You can welcome life for what it bestows upon you
Be surprised”

“Surprises” by Wilfrid Wong

I have learned that each day I shall fight for what matters most
I have learned that life can be as unpredictable as the weather
I have learned to follow my heart and my passion
I have learned that I shall not take people and things for granted

To fight and to earn for what matters most
And never take that for granted”

“No, I Won’t” by Wilfrid Wong

The anticipation is killing me
The tens and hundreds of different scenarios
I hope at least one of these scenarios will lead to a happy ending
That is all that I am asking for”

“21:40” by Wilfrid Wong

Fate is catching up with me
I reach out but all I see is dark space
I would hold onto even a faint ray of light and hope
Having said that
I would accept
Or would I?”

“Acceptance” by Wilfrid Wong

Communion
Hug
Kisses
Holding hands
Sharing moments together
Love is a feeling and can only be made tangible with a physical connection”

“Getting Physical” by Wilfrid Wong

Life is beautiful
Having friends who care for you is beautiful
Having someone who loves you as much as you do is beautiful

Passion is beautiful
Having something you do that you care is beautiful
Having a reciprocated passion is beautiful

But alas, beauty can be fragile and as short-lived as a butterfly
When you spot beauty, admire but not contain
Let beauty has her freedom
Live one day at a time”

“Beautiful Butterfly” by Wilfrid
Categories
Diary

The Melancholy Me But Why – A Cubism Doodle

By definition, the word melancholy as I have discovered today means to reflect deep sad thought with no obvious reason, which is not far from how I have interpreted it and how I have experienced it.

I enjoy spending time with people. But I also enjoy spending time alone observing, self-reflecting, and going through the process of art creation such as music, drawing, photography, and writing.

Ever since I bought a set of outdoor table and chairs, my balcony has become my favorite place in my home. I would bring my Sonos speaker out, fill up a glass of wine, and think.

I would go through the day, pick up the memorable bits – happy or sad – and run it through my head again and again. The process is no different from video editing. 12 hours may have passed and the day gets fragmented and stitched into a short video clip distorted with feeling and emotion amplified and the what-if and could have been.

I have been told that I am a melancholy person (perhaps that’s why I know what it is while not knowing exactly what it means). And I believe that at times, others know me better than I know myself. It is like a lens that I wear that prompts me to see the world in a veil of temporary sadness.

But why? I seriously don’t know.

It could be a self-balancing act. During the day, I tend to see the world in a good light, blocking off negative thoughts and observations. But this internal mechanism needs a recharge. When I am alone, I would need to come face to face with the suppressed emotion or thought. Not in its entirety. At least the significant bits.

Now, imagine, what if I had a terrible day? I would simply crash when I am alone. Until my internal mechanism of self-balancing gets recharged and kicked in.

This drawing can be viewed upside down as well, as I rest myself on the table.

There are happy days of course. A healthy salad bowl for lunch. Fresh paint. A nap that I wish I had (as I stayed late last night drawing this). The sound of the construction nearby. Anticipation and joy. A new pair of glasses. Sumptuous vegetarian meal. Christmas coming and people shopping for gifts. Smile. Laugher. More smile and laughter.

Even on a happy day like today, as I sit at the balcony listening to Lucia’s Without You playing through my Sonos speaker, overseeing the night view of the Singapore skyline, hearing the sound of the raindrop, and feeling the gentle night breeze, I can’t stop but think, what if today fades away and gets buried deep inside my memory that I can no longer retrieve in the far future?

Melancholy, a feeling of pensive sadness, tropically with no obvious cause.

What a wonderful day and a beautiful night. I shall end this post with a positive note.

At this very moment, I am happy.

Categories
Diary My Hobbies

Home-cooked Food – A Cubism Doodle

Modern-day photography and videography capture a snippet of life. The reality in its entirety often leaves little for our imagination. Call me old school. I still prefer words and drawings. Such artwork too captures a snippet of life yet leaves much for the imagination. An alternative reality within the realm of actuality. A private interpretation of the hidden messages forever imprints onto the likeminded ones. Book clubs. Painting appreciation. Call me old school. I have my preference.

A cubism doodle titled “Home-cooked food”

Covid-19 has changed the way we live and the way we socialize. Many friends of mine now cook at home. We were used to catching up during lunch. Now, during dinner. As for me, I prefer healthy home-cooked food to outside food. I know what goes into the cooking. I know how the food is being handled.

Onto this particular drawing, I further explore the construct of cubism, or rather my interpretation of cubism. My third attempt and it took me a lot longer to draw than most of my previous ones. I love Coste di Moro – Montepulciano d’Abruzzo – an Italian red wine. And I would imagine, that bottle of wine would have been moved around. From the kitchen counter to the dining table. To various positions as it is poured onto the glasses.

I love salad these days. I think of avocado. Capsicum. Quinoa. Chicken breast. Salmon. Potato. Lettuce. Pickled onion.

An alternative reality. A parallel universe. A drawing that is no less than a photograph or a video clip.