A conflict of interest

There was the evening news. Someone had died. It was rousing him the whole night, he could not give a motive towards the murder. He was stumped, he knew. He put out his last cigarette and left the office.

The cold wind blew on his face, as he treaded the streets on that very November. He could not let the thought of the case slip by. But of course, he was too tired, and just wanted to get home. A homeless man came out to him begging for some money. A quarter was handed out. The man then disappeared. There were dogs ransacking the dumpster in search for food. He got to a bend and turned in.

"Bruce, right?" the man in shades asked him. "Yeah." And the man continues, "You know the deal." A swift reply,"A penny for each word, no witnesses." Information was money as it is, and anonymity was gold. "Here it is, he was actually doing some underground deals, and that stupid Dick got greedy and wanted a larger cut. He is dead real alright, and he almost dragged me into the mess as well. But the man you should be going for goes by the name of Big Brad." And as the man in shades said his last word, he slumped to the floor. Big Brad is now dead.

He left the alley and walked on. It may not have been the best of days, and then as he gave a little whine on having to work in this terrible weather, he headed to the crime scene. It was more or less the bloody scene that every provocative murder is made of, shattered glass, battered furniture, drops of blood everywhere. He retraced the steps to where the victim last breathed.

He slowly recalled the deal with the victim, of course, it was simple, everything was swept under the rug. That very scene, a man died. A conflict of interest. He sat back and continually reminisce about that bloody morning. It was dark and it was grim but all it was done beautifully. And as he left that very room, he already knew who the murderer would be, and it was not Bruce.

Ockham's Razor

He stood up after a rest, lesser known to him, he started walking, and found himself in a barren land. The land stretched miles and miles of red dirt, he find himself no where near civilization. The dog which was by him earlier was now nowhere to be found.

He found a rock, solitary in the barren lands. Not knowing where to head next, he sat on the rock while watching his trails in the red dirt disappear as the wind blows. Oddly enough, he did not feel hungry despite being out here for a time that is long enough to starve a man to his bones.

******

He fell asleep for a long time that is not known to him, and as he perceives the sun, obscured by the red dust. The sun is still where it was. At the far end, the moon stood tall. He found himself having no more desires, the fatigue, the hunger, the want for companionship. It all felt foreign. Was he ever there, has he ever possessed these things? Yet, there was nothing else he wanted anymore.

There the dog was, right beside him and as it was, it did not notice him and far from thought, the dog walked past him into the unknown. He followed the dog and as time went on, he felt more and more sluggish. He was having flashes of memories of which he has no recognition of, his thought raced on logic and reality. He had neither in him anymore. The dog was out of sight. It was all dark. He was lost.

******

A burst of light. It penetrated the darkness, he was no longer thinking. He found himself traveling through a tunnel at giddying speeds. The lights extended towards him, drawing him. As he gazed upon the sides, he could see etchings and figures, pictures formed as it travels past him into the blinding light.

That he saw the whole history of humans, the earth, then the universe. God. The surge of knowledge rushed into him as he approached the light. The absolute truth. A singularity. Then, nothingness.

******

He felt as though a million needles were pricking his hands, as he woke up from his nap. He was just a man, ordinary. He did not love nor hate his life, he had nothing to depend on, likewise, nothing that depended on him, he was alone. And a little voice was in his head, it was screaming to detach. And at a certain point somewhere along his life, he detached.

The Breaking of a Break

There wouldn't be much of a story here.

Of the things that happened, and of many that did, and the life changing experiences. A door opened. Many doors were opened.

I have not been updating this blog since, well, my last A levels examinations, a very long hiatus, one that people questioned if the blog has been orphaned. Now here I am, back, fresh from UK just lesser than 2 weeks ago. Nothing spectacular indeed.

I could say that many things have happened and in fact there were, quite a number, but if I had it sorted out, I can't say it was that numerous at all. That little changes that never seemed to surface, until a year later, you come back to what it was a year ago, and find yourself a total stranger to that of the before.

Once again, I am here to stay, this blog, my blog. =)

Chia Yew, the Ice-cream world, and chocolate droppings.

Who knows, who Chia Yew really is?

Ok, take no offense, but this is fictionally made up, Chia Yew, we shall now take a look into the inner Chia Yew.

Chia Yew loves ice-cream, but he hates chocolate droppings on it, least we know not of. He would do what to take it to remove their existence from the world of the ice-cream, but who knows, he has tried and plotted little mischevious schemes to get the evicted, but to no avail. So somehow, Chia Yew just gave up and left the world of the Ice-cream. But of the late, he has been scheming again, and least his appearance in the Ice-cream world again is most suspicious, you cannot deny that little cuteness of him, like a cotton candy tempting you to hug him, putting away that little curiousity that were once fondling your mind.

He had socks of a myriad of colours, various patterns. And today, he wore striped green and red socks. Of the amazement it caused, mosly are due the fact that his other leg holds another sock of blue and yellow polka dots. Chia Yew didn't mind that difference, in fact, he loved the attention it did give him, and walk on with pride, even as little ice-cream people chuckled by.

Slowly trodding upon the candy lined path, he reaches the gingerbread house, whic he soon saw, his accomplice, the one of the few witches in Ice-cream world. Opening her door, she invited him in, or a cup of tea. Chia Yew being a fan of lollies and candy canes, couldn't resist the urge of the candies, least being in that house had a placebo effect upon him.

"So, boy... We have been doing this all day long, and that chocolate drippings are easily the most famous of the region, to expel them would be hard... But least fear not, for I have the remedy to all sorts of problems... We do have a plan you see... Uh.. Well, we still can't tell you though..." The witch strutted by, and slowly lifted into a cackle. Chia Yew was satisfied, as long as he had chocolate droppings out of Ice-cream world. Because you see, he was once a little boy, and the chocolate droppings were a cause for his largely undefined distrustful logic which made him stutter, and upon that incident, he has lost chocolate droppings as his friend.

As the days grow by, the visits to the house became frequent, and too often a suspicious looking ice-cream boy would be sneaking about, and checking out the chocolate droppings if they had left. But alas, it was yet its time, and his patience grew weary, as he trodded along towards the house of the gingerbread.

The witch fed him of all sorts of candies and had Kopi-O made for him. Very interesting indeed, he would find that he had forgotten everything else in the house, least the very sight of the chocolate droppings appeared before him. And that day, the witch had her potions ready, to banish chocolate from the land. that lasting cackle was of the loudest he has ever heard, but by no chance did he actually waited for her to finish before he interrupted and took the potion to be used.

The instructions noted clearly, "Sprinkle a little on your baby, the chocolate drippings, and they will disappear for as long as it will be." He took the potion and sprinkled at the first chocolate dropping he saw, and it worked! The chocolate dropping disappeared out of sight, at least, and Chia Yew couldn't take his hands off it. he started sprinkling at every dropping he sees, and well pretty much, they have all disappeared. He was not yet satisfied, as he continued to pour more upon each dropping he sees, fueled with rage, he smashed the bottle into the last dropping he found.

He was now a little devil and all of the ice-cream world was sad and waning for chocolate droppings. He had took away all happiness from Ice-cream world, The witch herself, was all so delighted to have had Chia Yew as her accomplice. They had successfully rid the world of ice-cream, of chocolate droppings. This entrenched the world of the ice-cream into distraught, and occasionally ice-cream people would cry so much they almost fainted.

And soon, seeing how successful the plans worked, the witch now plotted to rid the ice-cream world of its own inhabitants. This had Chia Yew stunned out of proportion, and he agreed at first with then little conciousness, he awaken to find it too cruel to do so. It was now plain evil he saw, in the witch, and that the witch had some way to detect his treason and locked him up. The witch had sought to bring back all of the demons to exile the ice-cream people.

Nonetheless, Chia Yew knew what he would do, he would eat his way out of the house even if it meant extra weight, well, of course which he did, and found the witch on the verge of carrying out her plans. Chia Yew resisted her, and soon to find a chocolate dropping before him. He fret, and crawled away, but then soon, it was raining chocolate droppings.

Chia Yew was never in the Ice-cream world again, but of his experience, he never forgot. Took hold of his little bag and set out to college for yet another day of a hectic academic life.

Hey, if you actually managed to finish this, well, this is one for you, I ran ouutta ideas for some time, but least I hope you can take it as just leisure reading, well, with the "Chia Yew" part, outta context, if that is what you wish.

That Which We Didn't Know, or Perhaps Did

So today I'm gonna break from the norm of my writing, I'll actually write something even layman can understand, well hopefully.

So Chia Yew, I've told you, I study, but for what the results come, I don't really care all that much, but better it be good than bad.

Hence we shall start.

There is this boy whom I knew then, since last year, he was cute, and relatively stout, had the looks of a well, erm, nerd, in other words, extraordinarily well read, and most of all cute.

And there he was, just this afternoon, speaking of, "Aiyoh, you ah, how la?" or something to that extent, I forgot. But just most recently before the exams rush started, he said, again, "Aiyoh, you are gonna be spending lots of sleepless nights..." Yes, that I remember, and well, as always, I've been sleeping late, but phenominally, I have been sleeping earlier than, well my definition of late.

And so there we see, Chia Yew, a boy who cares for his friends,(I know the others in PM4 do care too, but for some reason, I've reserved this for Chia Yew.) (Hint hint, Chia Yew, if you don't remember, just look thru the present you had.) Chia Yew has the affinity of life, physics, studies, oldies, politics and ranging towards Nirvana, but OK, that's more of a Daniel mentality.

He plays with his things, fiddling it and occasionally, he unknowingly, "Chiayew"-nisise it, and well beyond our recognition. He is akin to a Hamster, which I originally attributed towards Timothy Kuek, who turned out to be a better Lau Bu than a class pet hamster. His features too often resemble that of the little cute hamster we see in the movies, Rhino. And yes, often or perhaps someday you can call him, Rhino.

Whoa, that took quite some time.

And so Chia Yew is too such a great imitator, oh, at the first revelation towards, Miss Yap, a.k.a Auntie Nyoke Lee then. He has grown into that character so much and so well, that his actions can really evoke a feeling that Ms Yap truly is there. Those little hand movements, you would subconciously start to move along. So this boy, had a way around with his little tricks to capture your heart, other than, of course, his cuteness.

And so, Chia Yew started his imitation classes, occasionally, adding new characters into his already varied selection of teachers to imitate, whom we can call, Ms Ko. But hey, who said he'd stop there? He continued the evolution in the art of imitation, and made his first debut, "Umbrella" in the "Ms Yap" manner. This captured the crowd, and occasionally, he would be found singing in his bathroom, the very authentic imitation of Ms Yap. And then he started the imitation of a boy named, Chiun Min, and well here he is, not wanting to reveal too much of himself.

This is no documentary, but I'll just state a little more.

The boy is known for his non sensical little ideas, more likely attributed to a higher level of creativity, growing from making "official" certs from Cambridge, a test paper for a person's birthday, a very interesting gift box for Valentines, cards of random order, just to invoke the feeling that nothing may be as simple as it looks, ideas of epic proportions and well, much more to come.

That's it for an intro of that which is coming.

Chia yewnian Pop Fiksyen

Chia Yew, its time for some nice literature, though in itself, mine is merely but a speck of dust.
A Pop Fiksyen type, to cater to Chia Yew's Appetite.

Pop Fiksyen Series 1:


It was so hot, he was not able to concentrate.


Suddenly, something shone and caught his attention.


Being ridiculously attracted, he went towards it.


Then he found out, it was just sand.


But then, slowly, he asked, why did it sparkle leh?


He checked back, nothing was there.


And then, he left, and the sparkles were no longer there.


He took a turning back, and saw Tok Bomoh before him, holding a yew tree branch, so he asked," Why la, I see sparkles but when I reach I only see sand?"


Tok Bomoh replied," Perhaps, perhaps, it was just an illusion."


Continuing," Or perhaps it was the moon."


He was angry and turned his back ,walking away.


Passing by that area again, something fell onto his head.


And so it ends.
I may not be the professional Pop Fiksyen writer, the Chiayewnian way, but that's just for the appetite for now. Perhaps, I might write something else someday.

Erfolg

It is not a rather peculiar case of anything of any sorts, but rather a simple tale of nothing.

This forgiving day, those little warm eyes grew weary and then were shut, all that was said was that I've never seen such kind eyes for a long time.

His shadows stood from afar, a stout figure of an authoritarian, many people would not see his point of view but to a rather strict extent, he conveyed it, at least, he made them hear him. His claws were no longer sharp and lay sheathed, he couldn't take a bite off of his opponents, alas, his fangs still bore a mark on their skins.

He laid down and started drifting into a dream, and it seems it swirled anti-clockwise. Who knew of that little part that he knows not of? He was not dreaming anymore but he stood up to his dismay, a figure of scarcity and alienness. He picked up his pace and strode away, but what he never knew was that face he has seen, a significant myriad of shapes pieced together, to form a perfect identity.

Though he lay fatigued, he wore his snickers and took his little coat and went out. But all of this story meant of nothing but an affliction of a series of random events that happened to him, and that you would just want to smack your computer by reading this.

Just drop it, he said, he couldn't find the capacity to let his books fall to his toes and hit his toes. That would be overwhelmingly stupid for himself to do so, and then he walked on, and continue living without his stubbed toes. We can continue this post forever, but if were to make any sense, I would have done it by now.

He came home, with his hat upon his head. Many a times, a lady would pass by and he would be certain to catch a look of her. His little figure walked along the path and soon he found himself home again. Little did he know that the city would not accommodate so much as to what he does in it, and he was just a measly old man who has retired into his husk. He knows a lot yet he knows nothing at all, but to go and proclaim everything which would mean the destruction of his fundamental identity, which he would certainly want to avoid.

The Bus came, and he hopped on, little to know that he had let go of his book on the bus station. Readily, he went on towards that very cosy place round the corner of the city, a newspaper editorial company, for whom he was invited to be interviewed. Later on he'd see that lady in red again, and that he couldn't help but to stare at her . She eloped by as he reached his destination.

There grew his shadows, as he walked in, but none of all that his fang could do, he was old. And that he said, was a quixotically interesting art of psychology he once possessed to make heads turn. He trod to the office where the editor had invited him. Sat on that chair, old, brown, perhaps a little dusty. And all he said was sound and full of fury, but signified nothing.

As of then he breathed his last, and of that moment he collapsed, no one knew what had happened later, but for this portion it did make sense, at least I hoped. But some said he had a smile etched upon his face, which he had never truly did until then.

Leaving back his legacy, we know of nothing of him anymore, but of his works. He had not died then but his last breath has been huffed out. The candle is blown and the curtain laid down.

If I had made you completely perplexed, that is probably the reason I blog. To fill in a little boredom with works that may make no sense, even at the umpteen time you try, but if you do, do understand that I am just filling in time and that I can in no way associate to any geniuses, gifted people. Thank you if you read until this PART, and I hope you can get some rest because I know that if you thought through it, you would have some kind of epileptic storm of sparks going through your mind.

To end, say your prayers and start it again.