rechallenged the addiction

I never thought I say this, but yes it’s true. I am frustrated at the issue at hand. Not the fact that more are tripping into the HIV hole, nor the fact that many more are not getting the right treatment. I am (of all else) talking about the HIV positive people taking advantage of their condition to gain anything that one could think of out of selfishness. Did I say talk? No, hear me right, it is an issue we ought to shout out, or at least in the face of those people. Many of them are pushing for themselves, not for the reduction of HIV in the community.

I am tired of fighting for the cause. Is the cause even worth fighting for?

I am burn-out of protecting them. What else is losing its flame other than my spirit?

I am exhausted of doing prevention work. And save those ignorant bastards and bitches?

I am weary of pushing the awareness slogan. Is knowledge ever going to move into action?

I am worn-out of being empathy towards them. When will empathy be empowerment?

I am dead-beat of understanding their misfortunes. Who is living off better?

Fatigue, drained… how much more can I possibly do?

Seriously, do they realise that they are once negative too? Is their life any better when they are back then?

It is bloody warm in here. The air condition at work is down again. I usually can work in the heat, but today I am not going to. I am going to surf the net and blog until it’s back. An outright protest on the right of pleasant working environment.

With that said, I just had a late breakfast with a new friend. He is nice and… hmm overtly enthusiast about making his hobby into a career choice. Nothing wrong with that. In fact I am impressed with people who can make a living on what they love doing leisurely.

However one drawback was that I couldn’t help but noticed the axcess baggage he was bringing along with him. I was really looking forward to a quick and casual breakfast, but what I got in return was trying to be positive in responding to him. I don’t really mind. Perhaps I was expecting people to be blissful, or perhaps seeing jovial people would be a good way to start a cranky day, especially one that I have to sit in a sauna and expect to perform!

It’s a new dawn

It’s a new day

It’s a new light

I’m feeling good

I am mad about you

The symphony of how you sing it blue

It does take some to get it right, with the right haircut, right cloth, right attitude, right generosity and right moment. Yet some take it so easily. My friend PT is one of those latter “some”. He doesn’t have much hair on him to get the right haircut, nor does he dresses to the trend of gawk-at-me-now. What he has is the right attitude and the right generosity. Good PR does help. He could effortlessly pick up anyone, or make “socializing with strangers” looks like child-play. His sex life is like flying colors. And his social circle ain’t take far behind too.

I am messaging with someone who are a friend yet a stranger. It is someone I’ve briefly noticed during gym. That got me thinking how superficial we human have become. We prefer the cosiness of cyber rather than the awkward physical presence. Often we could talk for hours on the phone with strangers, but the only hours we spend face to face over coffee is silence. Or that we are neighbors or colleagues who share the same lift or brush shoulders daily, yet never even say hi — We become buddies in Friendster (not that i use it). Or like a friend who shag a guy for a mere one-night-stand, only later knowing the person as his friend’s boyfriend. Then again there is also the friend who shag his friend’s boyfriend even after knowing they are together. Or that you type and type with no recollection, it is a pointless strategy that you yourself can’t perform; what more expecting others to do so. Regardless what, it has become somewhat morbid cycle of the happy community.

You can cook an egg, can’t you?

It is easy

In four simple steps

Heat the pan

Drop the butter

Crack the egg

Pinch in some salt

And in less than five you have your egg

Cooked!

What we don’t always get is the perfectness of an egg

The white cloudy fluff

The golden liquidy york

We split the york before it even touch the pan

We break it when we flip over

We burn one side if not both

We have the whole kitchen burning up in flame, or not

We mistaken a pinch with a punch

We make it into scramble when it was hopeless

But it was still an egg

And we’d still eat it

Copernicus told me this year is mine to hold but not to have. I hate to disappoint his theory. He said some nasty things; like how I shouldn’t make a nuinsance out of myself, and that I should keep out of other’s business. On top of that bit, I should be more patience and forgiving, even though around idiots and bastards who can’t seem to get things right. So basically he’s telling me “this gonna be a shitty year for ya”.

But there is a sorta’ vaccine for that — I best own a tiger! And mini-black-and-orange-stripped G-string doesn’t count.

I heard him singing

of a story he couldn’t possibly tell

He bathe the night air

with the solemn sorrow

of the story he couldn’t spell

A man of steel

A man of compassion

But a man who couldn’t own his possession

His voice was unheard

His move was untouched

He remains stagnant

on the spot where I left him

He remains null

by the only reason he never believes in

It took me awhile to realise

he was no longer singing

of the story he couldn’t tell

He was humming

of a story he never wants to dwell

I see fear behind that face

I hear scream behind that whisper

A story he plays

by the reason he thought would be fine

and the same reason that he kept to himself

I felt sorry

for him

more for myself

of learning the story

that wasn’t so real after all

I heard him

His last deciding script

He would take that story with him on the road

A long and unending tarmac

A smile broke in me

for I was not in that same story

I have a story too

One I could tell

One that I own

One I sing with all of soul

’til running out of breath

I still hear him mumbling

of the story he wishes to tell

No matter how far that gets him to

it shall remains a story he’s able to feel

I hear you

I hear you, not so well

I took advantage of the opportunity. I made use of a world-wide catastrophe as an excuse for not blogging. I thought I made a grand entrance with some nifty photograph I took early this year, hmm… which is like two days back.

The slow connection has gotten me thinking. And that thoughts shall be posted later. No harm waiting for another couple more days. I need to recuperate.

The shameless me took a couple of pictures, and it is the very first time so much flash and flesh is used.

Note: This is not a sex advert.