From john, to jane

There is something very wrong about giving time too much credit and letting a deep seating idea fester, blissfully ignorant the telltale signs of a looming crisis until the lid comes off and all that pent up emotions overflow like a floodgate giving way to a merciless avalanche of negativity. How it is that in such a brief period on such short notice we have each ourselves managed to come up with our very own little circle of unspoken thoughts is beyond my comprehension, and I plead guilty for being the ignorant one who shied away from the prospects of having to finally wake up from my sugar coated honeymoon slumber and smell the sour tinge of reality, to eventually find the sad strength to pick up all these broken pieces, shattered like a starburst twilight into a million fireflies, and resort to coming up with an inconvenient explanation of who/what/when/where/why/how it all went wrong in the first place.

Apologies don't do justice when there is no fault to begin with. Somehow along the way, time took it's course and backtracked on us; instead of exploring the future together hand in hand like how we intended to be, we found ourselves inevitably drawn to the gloomier aspects of our past and like every forbidden aspect of life, such it was the obsession to revisit that period of time lost in history like a voyeur peeking through the many shades of cover ups and half told white lies, that we let our guard down and allowed an idea to fester in our heads like a rabid virus carving it's destrcutive path in our consciousness.

An idea, seeded by those who shall not see us be, and nurtured by our own insecurities and misplaced trust in our own sense of self worth.

And as we succumb to ourselves, with each step forward being one further away from the truth that we once held so dear, all it took was time to take its course as everything started to fall into motion like a grand scheme coming into play and we, like chess pieces in the mercy of others, became so lost in the whirlpool of negative thoughts and self doubt that all we could see in the eye of the storm was how everything we once held dear was so rapidly falling apart, there was nothing we could really do.

I was losing you.

Losing you to the whims and lies of man.

Losing you to familiarity.

Losing you to time.

........


But it's alright now. I'm glad we opened our hearts and bared our souls. No more knitpicking. No more beating around the bush.

Wishing for blue skies with lush green meadows to run off together, hand in hand, without a care for the world....

Wishing for the emerald sea and infinite sunset that is our paradise....

Wishing for a wishing star...

Love the way you lie

Don't know why but there's something bout this song.

Something....haunting.

Something.


Or maybe coz it's made that way, to be an effin hit WTF.

Anyway. Gotta love the last line.

Guess that's what love is after all.

Ramblings of a hypoglycemic mind

Having a sudden gut wrenchingly insane craving for mushroom soup with salad by the side, preferably with some fresh succulent Norwegian salmon sashimi tossed in with a light dash of that whatever sauce that makes salad oh so yummy, but thank you a light dash would do coz horror of all horrors I've recently officially been condemed to hypercholestrolemics anonymous and am on a highly monitored apparently healthy diet to kick my ass back into its lean mean ol' self FML.

And then it hits me that at this particular hour in this particular place on earth during bulan Ramadhan no less where the way of life is to live to eat and by that meaning eat your guts crazy till yesterday's breakfast comes goofering out of every single orifice in your body both known and unknown to man, that any attempt for a so called 'healthy' supper is something one might as well call a joke, not withstanding the fact that according to the big O putting anything in your mouth after 7pm is downright blasphemous due to the fact that from 701pm onwards your body magically remodels its anatomy so as every single atom from that yummylicious cheeseburger that passes through your mouth shall end up straight at your ass. Every. Single. God Damn. Calorie. Speaking of, an average McD's double cheeseburger contains somewhere around 450kcals and 30gs of fat. Translates into roughly the weight of two Backstreet boys and enough moo-moo to feed a small African nation. Now how would you like that splattered all over your booty?

By the way, shoot me if you must but damn it I want a cheeseburger so much right now. Like, right now. It's pouring outside and my half asleep brain is fighting a losing battle trying to convince me to 'do the right thing!' and 'be a man!'....Russell Peters would be proud I'm sure.

Guess I'll just gulp down some Haier Fresh Air and hit the sack instead. After all it's just 4 hours away from daybreak....Hunger pangs can wait. I shall not succumb......my kung fu is strong.....



I miss you a lot, really a lot. You have no idea what I'll give to have you in my arms right now. Even in this current state of hunger-driven insanity, if it came down to you and a cheeseburger.......It'll still be you. Any and every time.

I know, this may not the most romantic thing to come out of a guy's mouth and this is certainly not the last word as far as mushy lyrical yada- yadas go....but please take it from me, when I say that you are the most precious thing in my life now....

No cheeseburger will ever, ever take your place in my heart, or my stomach I swear.

I love you very, very, very much.



And I'm still painfully hungry ouch FML.

I have no idea why I'm posting this pic coz all it does is fuel my gastric uprising speaking of which I'm currently that close to eating my shoes to curb this stupid hunger pang FML

Rain rain rain.....

Waiting for the weather to clear up a tad bit before heading out again.

What a day.

Feeling sorry for the homeless cats and dogs caught in the shower. No one should be left out in the cold, not in a weather like that.

Wishing for an empty ward and a full stomach before going to bed tonight.

Revision.

At the rate of how crazy things are, I'd be damn glad just to be able to hit the bed at all.

On call on a rainy day sucks.

People of Kajang, please drive safely. Don't play with your food, don't choke on your ayam percik, and please oh god damn it please DO effing take your meds please.

I'm begging you. On all fours.

Here's hoping.

to John, from Jane

Curiosity killed the cat.

Probably ran over it like a friggin steamroller, came down from the car to check if it was still twitching and yes, if it was, reversed for a second helping before zooming away in a cloud of smog.

Don't ask questions of which the answers you don't want to know.

Dig too deep and all you'd hit is dirt.

Don't dwell on the past.

Just know that, for now, at this very instance, it is you that matters the most.

Or at least, try your very best to convince yourself so.


Nothing else matters. Not for now, at least.

Where to where how........?

Just called up the nice lady from KKM. Again.

For like, the tenth thousand time.

Letter has finally reached KKM. Dated 2/8/10.

That's a whole friggin 2 month and a few god damn days after completing my HOship.

Not even snailmail would take that long. Not if they hired a paraplegic drunken senile garden snail the size of a bacteria's turd to carrier my letter personally strapped to its shell to Putrajaya while all the way performing Shakira's Waka Waka backwards.

So yeah.

Letter signed, sealed, now finally delivered. I'm yours!! Like, finally?

All it takes now is for the board to sit down.

I can so imagine them folding my request form into a paper plane and then gleefully tossing it like a prepube school prick at a giant map of Malaysia seeing where it lands to determine where they'd be couriering my sorry ass to.

' Kalimantan!!' Fuck.

Oh wait. Abit too far South. Let's try again.

' Pontianak!' Ah........fuck 2.0.

Wait. Is Pontianak considered Malaysia?

I don't bloody know anymore. Never been a big fan of geography. Never been able to get Sabah and Sarawak right in terms of who's north and who's south. Er...wait. Who does Kinabalu belong to...?

I'm so gonna die if I get East Malaysia.

The only thing I'm familiar with across the South China Sea would be Kenny Sia.

And you know, it's a bad, bad sign if the only thing you're familiar with in a foreign land is a big hairy Cina man.

Be afraid. Be very, very afraid.


Keeping fingers cross, tied, knotted.

I don't wana leave.

I don't wana leave without you.

You know I can't do without you.



Damn it.

Here's hoping.

Ramblings of a cholesterol-laden mind

Kinda sorta somehow just hit me that I'm always online doing nothing save staring at the screen staring back at me.

Hmmmm.

Not the most productive thing to do when the rest of the world is knee deep in financial turmoil, political unrest, domestic violence, expanding waistlines and shrinking paychecks.

Hmmmm.

By the way, the Salmon sashimi tonight was absolutely devilishly sinfully OMFGly yummylicious.

Again, not the wisest thing to do with a borderline high cholesterol level and 3 years ticking on the clock before I hit the big Three.

Oh well.

Hmmmm.

You only live once right. At least that's what they say. Also sorely depends on what you believe in as well I guess.

Some folks believe in life after death.

Some believe in turning to dust as you breathe your last breath.

Some believe in having nine lives to start with. Meow.

Some already are living in hell so it doesn't really matter where they go from here on anyway.


What's more, they say life starts at forty so what's the hurry?

Well, if by definition

Life = rickety aching joints + expanding waistline + shrinking manhood + tighter pants + looser double chin

then hell yeah life starts at forty and with an effing glorious bang it starts huh.

Hmmmm.

Oh well.

At least I did something today.

Not sure if mindless ramblings account as a mean of productive effort but WTF its my blog so I can do anything I want on it nyeh nyeh nyeh * toungue out waggling*

Not like anyone's gona come across this anyway.

Recap:

First and foremost, it is with a great sense of sincerity and regret I shall acknowledge to myself that this post may and most probably will be yet another self-indulgent psychotic neo-emo rant about nothing other than nothingness, and would again like so many before it be reserved solely for my own narcissistic reading pleasure on some stormy Friday night with just me, myself and I. And most probably with my laptop on and some porno rendition of The Wizard of oz playing in the background.

The only difference now is a porno rendition of Toy Story playing in the background instead. Wizard of Oz is sooo last century, Dah-ling.

Must be the Starbucks Mocha Frappuchino. Damn Imperialist coffee chains and their frigging ingredients making people go all wonky.

I need to sleep. Or at least pretend to pretend to do so. Before the boogieman in the closet gets tired waiting to pounce on me and falls asleep himself. The poor thing.

Good night.

Love you bie...

xoxoxo

Why I hate doing locum (even if the money's good)

Case 1:

25 yr Chinese dude patient walks in. Sits down.

Pt: Doctor i have fever runny nose and cough. I think I have a cold. Give me the antibiotic in the glass bottle. Strong strong that one. Money no problem. And also the headache medicine. And the cough mixture. And the runny nose pills. Make sure give me the strong strong one ya. Make sure ya. The glass bottle wan ya. Strong wan ya.

Patient gets up. Walks out.

Me: .......your welcome...?

* glass bottle antibiotic = Azithromycin = damn overkill oral antibiotic. can kill an anything and everything (almost la). Totally useless in viral infections which is usually the case in runny nose and flu.


Case 2:

Daughter brings old frail Uncle in. Sits down.

Daughter: My dad sneezed trice from 230pm to 330pm. I think he has a cold.

Me: ............okay.........@#&$%*(#............

if only i had an MRI in d clinic.... then i can MRI his nose to see which stupid nose hair came off n choke his stupid nostril to make him sneeze oh so badly 3 times today......


Case 3:

25 yr Chinese fashion faux-pa ah lian walks in. Sits down.

Can't help not to notice how bad the outfit is put together.

Diagnosis: Congenital hypofashionsensenemia

What was her problem again?

Soree, can't remember. Was too busy checking out her train wreck of an outfit. Ooops.

erm.....food for thought.....don't try too hard....it's Sg Chua for god sake. No one's gonna blink if you were to step out in a chicken suit....

Case 4:

25 yr old Bangla 'gentleman' walks in. Yeah, that's the official term to use when addressing patients. I'm sure he's gentle in some way but no thanx I don't wana know.

Bangla: Boss! Ini tangan, manyak sakeet woh! Manyak manyak sakeet, itu kerje tak boleh kerje woh! Mau injection! Injection!

Me: ...........erm.....okee....i kasi injection kasi manyak kuat ya.......manyak sakit sikit ooh....okee yaa.......*evil grin*

I have no idea wat u wan. 50mg voltaren good enuf for u, sir? no? how bout some vit B12? hurts like an effin SOB weh. im sure dat wud do the trick....



Case 5:

27 yr blurhead overworked underpaid doctor walks in. Sits down.

Looks at watch. 5 more minutes to 9pm. Freedom beckons...

Looks at watch again. 4 more minutes.

Looks at watch again. 2 more minutes.

Looks at watch again. one minute.

Counter gal: loctor ar...got 3 patient come edi la.....

@#$*%&#$.............

Into the clouds....

Run away.....





Into the clouds....





Oh yeah......

Run away....

Run away....

Sun, sea, sand.......

Just you....

and me....

and a whole lot of Hoegaarden.... =)


Paradiso yay.......

Together....

Starry, starry eyes

My heart, my soul
Hand in hand
together we'll grow old
Watching the sun
set into the unknown
and give a toast
to you I cherish the most
For your starry starry eyes
gazing into mine
you make me whole....