Ah, there’s no better form of flattery than crime committed because of it.
As seen at the bus stop along Bedok Reservoir Road (in Singapore), this ad inspires young creative minds to excel in their work in the hopes that someday, someone would have the sound mind to think that “Yes, this piece of art is worth stealing.”
I know that this ad, coming from Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts, is supposed to be a sort of renegade and liberal ad pushing the boundaries of norm with its artsy fartsy themes, but, really? Need we emphasize the wrongful motivation in encouraging their students and would-be students to pursue the fine art in Fine Arts?
I would love to apply for this copywriter’s post. Lol.
My counting prowess (or lack of it) would surely make my Nursery Math teacher cringe. I stopped at Day 5, or 5 days before I went back to Philippines, and forgot the next series of numbers after 5. And now I have been home for almost a month already. Jeez. Will update that one of these days, thanks to the free WiFi our neighbor has (un)consented for us to use.
Meanwhile, I’m still praying for this elusive enlightenment. I’m bartering with the gods to give me a month’s worth of constipation just to overcome the suspense of what’s to happen in the next weeks.
If other people can win the lottery, surely I can have this one little wish come true.
Booked my ticket (damn expensive for a one-way flight, though it makes sense coz it’s nearer to my travel date) and finally got the present for my Dad I’ve been dreaming about for so long now. He’s gonna be happy when he sees this big box. Just crossing my fingers that I don’t have to encounter any sharks at the airport customs.
This is my last Saturday in Singapore and it will only be 6 days before I head back home. It’s a bittersweet feeling for me – I get to see my family soon and celebrate my birthday with them, but at the same time it’s a whole new experience, kind of like working in another foreign country. But this time, this “foreign country” is actually my home country. So much has changed that I don’t even know how to adapt.
Yes, the gods hasn’t answered my prayers for pass renewal yet. I still try to be positive, and I’m exerting a 110% effort in doing this, but que sera sera. Maybe it’s just rest period for me. Or maybe it’s time to realign my life. I don’t know. But I’ll keep the optimism alive.
Meanwhile, loved this awesome lunch from Nakhon Kitchen in Hougang. Finally got to taste the always-queued-for food.
There are days when I feel such a badass for accomplishing things from as mundane as waking up on the right side of the bed to achieving big task such as making a client happy.
But, for the life of me, how come the sucky days unfairly outnumber the badass days? It’s as if everything that can go wrong gets lined up and scheduled in one day, on a thirty-minute interval? I try not to be as emotional as possible: when I was young I didn’t cry on recollections, I didn’t cry when Jack froze to death and sank in the ocean, and I didn’t cry during a book-bashing fight with a school bully during elementary days (he cried by the way).
At 26 (or 27 in a dozen more days), I should be more mature, my confidence should be at its peak, and my strength should be boundless. But lately I find myself asking the Three Weavers of Fate if they can at least, please, consider throwing things at me one at a time. If only my head were as strong as the guy on the right, I would be probably be doing the same thing a few days in a row.
It’s 4:19 am as of writing, and I’d really love to say that I can’t sleep because of the loud snores from my roommate or because Candy Crush is keeping by braincells (or what’s left of it) up. But truth be told, it’s because of an overwhelming stress.
At (nearly) 27, things tend to get more serious in life, no matter how much one tries to cling to the Peter Pan Syndrome as they call it. This is such a bad age to be jobless and at the same time, to have to realign goals and courses of action. It’s so so easy to bitch about how come others possess what you have and not be appreciative about it, and to throw an endless fit about how things suddenly go haywire from being perfect. But at the end of the day, thinking about what others have is just a means of escapism, a way of avoiding your own problem and about delaying confrontation. This realisation is what’s keeping me up.
I’m not making any sense nor do I hope to make any sense. I’ll just treat this as a silent prayer from the gods above to guide me in the next critical days. I’m way past signs and miracles, and it’s about time to make a move and not wait. Still, a little intervention would help.
Who ever said that being a bum is the best job in the world ought to be slapped a thousand times. Only 11 days and already my entire body is seriously clamouring for some work to be done. I feel as if in a few more days of listlessness my brain cells would eventually reach a melting point. Yeah, true that we wish to be free from work pressure while we are employed, but that wish, I learned, should never be taken seriously longer than just that exact moment. Can’t wait for this torture to end and the new torture to begin.
Candy Crush Crushes.
Please. Please. Please. The last thing this game app needs to be is a platform for flirting. When someone gives you a life or even invites you to play the game, it is never tantamount to inviting you for a date, or should not be misconstrued as flirting.
Please control your hormones.
Make it work!
As Tim Gunn of Project Runway would always say, “make it work!”
I’ll try – no, scratch that – I’ll make this day productive, as woozy as I may feel. Soon as I get my ass up, I’ll run to the clinic to get medicines, go to the remittance center to get my money, then maybe color my hair, then go home and finish writing my $500-gig. As my boss would always say, “Make things done, get things happen.”
Let’s do this.