The Rainbow Connection & Me

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Why are there so many songs  about rainbows and what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it.
I know they're wrong wait and see.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers, 

the dreamers and me.
 
Who said that every wish would be heard and answered when wished on the morningstar?

Someone thought of that and someone believed it.
Look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing and what do we think we might see?

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection.
The lovers
, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell.
We know that it's probably magic.
Have you been half asleep and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.

Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors.
The voice might be one and the same.

I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.

Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection, the lovers, the dreamers and me.

*********************************

What's so amazing, that keeps me stargazing?

What is it I think I will see?

What keeps the lovers, the dreamers and me

waking up in the mornings and going to bed at night still thinking of rainbows?

Rainbows that people sing are visions, but only illusions...

I don't know..

It's probably magic.....

Maybe some day I will find it... that rainbow connection.

Sigh....

The 2nd Floor

Singapore never ceases to amuse me. It seems like there's something new to observe every time I'm there. There was once I was checking in late night into a budget hotel and the receptionist told me..


"Sorry... we don't have any rooms left, except on the second floor." he said to me.


"So? What's wrong with the second floor?" I answered, totally missing the point.

"Its........ a bit noisy." he said rather funnily.

It took a while before it sank it for me.

"Aaaaaah. Right. I see." I finally replied, finally understanding.

You see... the second floor is 'for fucking only'. All the men who pick up prostitues or GROs or whatever from the nearby bar or pub will come here. They charge about SGD15~20 for the room for about an hour. And since over the course of the night, quite a number of these 'couples' will be coming in and out, the second floor is kept for such a purpose. So everyone considers hotels like this to be fuck joints. But in truth, there are a lot of legitimate travelers looking for a place to stay... and the hotel tries to put them on the higher floors for their comfort.

Anyway, yes I did end up staying in the second floor. Yes, it was noisy. The sound insulation left a lot to be desired. It's like listening to porn instead of watching it. You hear them come into to the room. You hear the shower turn on when they wash up, you sometimes hear the rhythmic vibrations of the bed, then you hear the shower turn on again as they clean up, and you hear them walk out the door. 15 minutes later, you hear the whole thing repeat itself. I don't know how anyone's ever supposed to fall asleep with the full knowledge that there are people fucking, right there, right now just over this wall. It doesn't help one bit when you yourself have not got laid in quite some time. The only thing that helped was that I was too tired to feel horny.

Here's the fun part... after they are done, I could actually go up to my own door and see how they look like through the peep hole, which I did a few times, out of sheer curiosity and 'busybody-ness' (at least I'm honest k). Some were thin, some were fat, some were tall, some were short... and that's just the men I'm talking about. Hahaha....

But the novelty kind of wears out pretty quickly..... and by morning, with eye bags deeply set in due to the lack of quality sleep.....I swore never to sleep on the 2nd floor again.

The rain got to me too...

The sky is grey.

The road is wet.

The rain falls and makes everything a shade darker.

I pack my bags and ready myself.

It's a long journey ahead,

I'm think I'm going home.

But the thing is, I don't know where that is anymore.

Looks like the rain got to me too...

Where the Living Stops

I wait

and wait

and then I wait some more.

I wake up in the morning.

I do a mental check...

Yes, it's still there.

Wait a bit more brother.

It will fade away. 

You just got to wait a bit more

I'm waiting

To stop thinking

To stop feeling

The problem is

It's not fading away.

I don't know if it ever will. 

Every day feels like such an eternity.

Every hour feels like such a drag.

I wake up some mornings, and just wish the day will end already.

I float around during my consciousness, completely detached from people.

I laugh at jokes, but my heart is tired.

I have no energy.

No energy to be strong, fired up, angry, pissed off, inspired or anything at all.

I feel hollow. Nothing seems to move me.

No desire to laugh. No desire to cry.

I have no desire anymore.... for anything it seems.

It's the silence that kills.

The silence from your lips,

The silence from others,

The silence of loneliness

The silence in your own heart.

It's the emptiness that robs you of your smile.

The passion to live has somehow gone missing.

Some ask why I look so upset.

I say it's work, I say it's stress.

Convenient lies.

It's much easier for people to accept lines like that.

Because they often don't know what to say

When you tell them

That you used to be alive.

But now, you just exist.

With Nothing at all...

I met a woman.

She was amazing.

She was Coffee Girl.

And I was Lost Lonely Boy

She was full of contradictions.

Easily content, but never stagnant.

She had ever changing opinions, but also deeply rooted principles.

Some days she's quietly baking cookies at home,

Other days, she's single handedly taking on the whole world.

She fights you every tooth and nail, every inch and mile.

But she goes along with everything you want,

and showers you with nothing but care and attention

She’d laugh and smile at every lame joke you made,

Not because it was funny, but because it was you saying it.

I couldn't think of a more beautiful thing to behold.

She could turn a cold shoulder, and make her heart hard as stone.

And nothing you did would move her. NOTHING...

But she could love you for every wrinkle, wart and pimple on your face,

even if the world turned its back on you and made you an outcast.

She'd defend you even in your absence, like you meant the world to her.

Because when she loves you, you DO.

She’ll stand by you to the ends of the earth,

And give all her heart and all her love, to you, and you only.

Because despite all the contradictions

there was one thing about her that remained unchanging.

With her,

it was always going to be all or nothing at all.

And so I sit here,

With nothing at all.

Sex Robot? WTF Man?

I read this in shock:

World’s first sex robot wants to hold hands



Something is seriously wrong here.. Seriously. The most surprising part of it all was in the end, that said

"In a 2007 book, Love and Sex with Robots, British chess player and artificial intelligence expert David Levy argues that robots will become significant sexual partners for humans, answering needs that other people are unable or unwilling to satisfy"

Robots will become a SIGNIFICANT sexual partner for humans? WTF man? Since when can a robot ever replace our needs as people, for sex and companionship? I can't decide which is worse, talking and making love to a goat or talking and making love to a robot.

I speak as someone that's seriously lacking any sex or companionship of late. No matter how lonely, how horny, how needy you are, I don't think talking to a robot (or a goat for the matter) is going to cut it. You need a real life human being, with two eyes, two ears, lips, a biological heart and of course, a compatible reproductive system. No batteries (or tail). Can you imagine how sad and pathetic it would be to be sitting there, flirting, talking and hitting on a robot you can programme to say anything?

Sex is one of the most powerful things that connect two people together. Whether it's a one night stand, a casual fuck or a long term thing, sex always feels good to us because you are literally connected to that other person. They are one with you, you are one with them.. and since we are all hard wired for connection, establishing that connection feels fucking great.

And what about this? A robot is lifeless.... How the hell are you supposed to connect with a robot? What kind of needs could a robot fulfill that another human being cannot? A big, fat, stinky, old man/woman would do a better job satisfying your needs that a robot will be able to. Heck... I think even the goat will fare better. :-S

But then again, we all know better than to take sex and love advice from a chess player, no matter how intelligent he is.

Why Assholes Lead Happier Lives

I was just silently listening to the conversation over lunch, smiling politely, giving a comment here and there. There were 8 of us... 4 single, 4 married. And the man of the moment, was a married man... back home where he came from that is. Over here in this country, he was as good as a bachelor with his lease untied.

The topic of conversation was mainly 3 things; pre-nuptial agreements, marriages (and why you shouldn't do it) and lastly, sex. Of course there was sex. You can't have a table of 8 men sitting around and only be talking about the weather can you?

Actually, I didn't like this guy one bit. He was a client. But he was an asshole in every sense of it. Professionally, I hated every single inch of him and his guts. He made my work life a living nightmare sometimes... and I always got this feeling that since he's an expat, he just wanted to make a grand show on how hard he really is working, or why he's worth so much dough when a local engineer could do the same job he does at half the pay, and minus being an asshole. And personally... well, I didn't want to know anything about him personally. He could have 3 testicles and a prosthetic dick for all I cared. But since it IS work, and you HAVE to be nice to the client, I played along... or at least tried to. I actually lost my temper with him that morning when I thought he was trying to be a smart ass with some inspection we were doing.. and I told him off.... to the TOTAL SHOCK of my colleagues and suppliers... because well, I never loose my temper............with anybody. And if you do, you certainly don't do it with a client. People can get fired over that sort of shit. He was probably the last person I should have lost my temper with, but he was certainly the easiest one to..... out of sheer 'asshole-ness'. Basically I hated his guts la.. to get that out of the way.

Anyway, he was boasting about all the different places he has worked in in his career... and how in every place you go... you always need to find some 'honey' or else what are you working for if not for those pleasures. he proudly told us about his numerous girlfriends, and how he got married only because well... girlfriend number 4 got pregnant, and he couldn't escape. He told us about how he wanted to 'tapau' a girl last night but it was too expensive and not worth the money. He was in one of KL's most notorious, up class and expensive KTV a.k.a brothel there is to find. Here in KL, it doesn't get any classy or expensive than that. He said no matter how classy, how high class, it's still the same kind of hole.

We all laugh and joked, and asked questions.... after all, you're not supposed to take clients out for lunch and tell them their an asshole... no matter how true it was. And being all men there, I think everyone wanted to appear macho and appear like a cad, or at least, they didn't want to be a spoilt sport. But there were 2 conflicting emotions in me.

First of all.... everything this man said... every way he describe his exploits, from how he got married, how fat his wife is, to how he couldn't afford an expensive hooker, made me sick. Sick to the bone. It wasn't about whether any woman was present. There was just something about the way he talked about women as if they were some 'commodity' that pissed me off. I grit my teeth and put on a smile. There were no women sitting around... but it didn't matter. You don't talk about people like that. You don't talk about women like that. No matter if they were scientist, air stewardess, high class call girls or ghetto prostitutes, every woman has her worth... and deserves some respect, even if they seem to have lost their sense of respect for themselves. That woman is someones daughter, sister... and one day, someone's mother. Would you talk about your mother like that you asshole? There is this one scene in the movie My Fair Lady at the end when Audrey Hepburn says to Rex Harrison "The difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she is treated.".... and the guy is left stunned at the amazing insight this former flower-girl-turned-lady was now telling him. I never forgot that line. The point was that every woman deserves to be treated like a lady, regardless of who they are. And when I say treat them like a lady, it doesn't mean you have to talk all formal, bow and curtsy together or any of those things. It simply means.... treat them with respect for the simple reason that they are a woman. And being a woman is to already have worth and value intrinsically built in. For all his bravado and boasting, I just felt like lunging across the table and choking the life out of him and kicking his prosthetic balls.

I loathed the way he talked about women. I loathed the way he seemed to have no respect in talking about his wife, or the prostitute he never took home. But there was something else. I actually looked across the table, looked at the man, and asked myself "Why can't I be more like HIM??" Why? Why do I even bother to have this self imposed belief about respect for women and all this shit? Why do I have to care so much about people and their feeling? Why do I have to care so much about women and their feelings? Why can't I just have my fun, and screw around, and not care about whether or not this woman deserved to be treated this or that way? A prostitute's a prostitute. A one night stand is a one night stand. A fling is a fling. You don't need to start feeling guilty if you don't give a shit about how they feel do you? Why can't I be a little less of who I am today, and a bit more of a jerk or asshole, or whatever else you call these breed of men. I've been asking myself this question recently "Why the fuck do you have to care so much about people's feelings?" Why can't you just focus on yourself, focus on what you want, and go get it you dumbass. Why do you get caught in that web of caring for people... and wanting the best for them... and trying to be a positive influence in their life? I feel like such an idiot... because looking at this guy, as much of an asshole as I think he might be.. I knew he was having his fun, having the time of his life. It doesn't bother him in any way how these women feel, if he in fact even bothers to acknowledge that they have feelings. He wanted sex and conquest.. and he was getting it. He couldn't give a shit about everything else. If that made him an asshole.. so be it, at least he was a happy one.

A part of me envied this man. Not for how many women he has bedded in his lifetime. But for how little he seemed to care about anyone other than himself. I honestly envied that. To be blissfully ignorant. To not care. And as convoluted and dysfunctional as it sounds.... I wanted to be like him. Because being him seemed so much simpler... and possibly.. happier.

Sigh....