Enough said..

Had to go to campus first before I head to my workplace. Turns out my bike's got a flattened rear tyre. That means dragging my bike back home from campus, pump it and then off to the train station. It gets hotter and hotter, so bulky jacket had to go inside my backpack. Sitting, waiting for the train, realized that I had a puncture on my rear tyre. Got to go to the bikery first now, before heading to workplace. Oh, turned out they don't do tyre patching. Bought a DIY patch kit. Didn't know how to do it, a housemate offered to do it for me tonight. Hopped on the train to workplace, realized that we don't have the spanners back home. Which means my bike would have a flat rear tyre until we got ourselves proper spanners, if whatnot that means dragging my bike to the bikery, have the tube changed for fair bucks. Rode my bike from the train station to the workplace with limited amount of air in the rear tube. Thought some sushi would be nice to be eaten while working. The queue was half-a-block long. 13.00: Off to work.

Enough said..

Plastic fan..

No, by plastic fan I don't mean the cheap K-mart fan that you bought for summer nights..

Funny how I was called a plastic fan of a specific football (or soccer, the bogus american name for the sport) team once. I have always been a supporter for that specific team, since I started to love the sport for the first time, when I found the reason God gave me legs. Never ever have I supported other team. However, because I have never watched their game live, in the stadium, with thousands of other fans, the fans called me a plastic fan, for real fans for them is those who would go the distance instead of those who sit sound and relaxed in front of the television. Those who would cheer and willing to lose their voice at work the next Monday. What difference does it make? I cheer as well, heck I even woke my whole family once with my cheering.

It wasn't until I'm a part of it that I understand why. Now I'm not exactly 100% a plastic fan, for now I go the real match, real stadium, real tickets, real players. Note: it isn't the same football though. Now I can understand why people dichotomize fans: real and plastic. But, funnily, the more real a fan I've become, I became more and more enthusiastic to invite plastic fans to become real fans. This contrasts to those red-necked fans of football, who would look down and mock plastic fans for they're not as good as them. Where's the fun in football, mate?

The thing is, you needn't worry about the fact that you're a plastic fan. Even if you are, be a heck of a proud plastic fan. Because I think the team and the players wouldn't care if you are a real or a plastic fan. In fact, they would never care who you are. After all, if you think of it, we'd never support a team, like, literally "supporting" them. We just love the magnificent feel of it when they win. We're just looking for simple happiness, really..

Coffee: A shape of relax..

I don’t know about you, but I always wake up with this fuzzy feeling inside my head. It feels like it’s rather heavy on the back of your head down to the hairline on your neck. Nose obstructed, as always. First thing I always do as soon as I wake up, is boil some water, and prepare my coffee in a cup. Not a big cup, just a decent one.

As soon as it is all prepared, I’d stir it well, and then smell it to get the coffee idea sunk on my mind. That’s when it starts. The smell of the coffee just seems to enlighten me every now and then. And by enlighten, I meant it: it takes a chunk of the weight off the back of my head. If it was to be pictured in an animation video, the smoky smell of the coffee will go bilaterally on my cheek, through to the upper lining of my ears, slides down the ear, and relaxing the back of my neck on the hairline.

And to the initial sip.. The first sip of this liquid awakes all 5 senses of me. It’s like saying to each and every one of them “as you were.. relax, but get ready..” Then I always close my eyes, interpreting the taste as it runs down my throat. And the day starts as I open my eyes..

I wouldn’t call myself a coffee addict, if that’s what comes into your mind. I know I’d make it if I have to get through a day without a coffee jumpstart. It’s just that I choose not to..

Notice: between yesterday and tomorrow..

Notice: To some extent, the things that you do today might not differ from the ones you did yesterday. Sometimes I wonder: Is today really yesterday’s tomorrow? Same thing with tomorrow being today’s tomorrow? My today’s memory about yesterdays: Is it really going to be the same with my tomorrow’s memory about today?

If I sleep earlier, wouldn’t it mean that I’d live tomorrow earlier than anyone who slept later than I did? To me, it is always a blink of an eye that separates today from tomorrow. Well, not always, you have those sleep- and restless nights sometimes. As a matter of fact, when you say “Goodnight” to the one sleeping next to you and then go to sleep, doesn’t that actually mean “I’ll see you tomorrow, because my tomorrow’s coming earlier than yours”? (Note: IF I manage to go under first)

What about dreams? These unexplainable rapid movements of your eyes happen in between a blink of an eye. Wonderful how it turns a blink of an eye to some happiness you could never get in a lifetime, or in some cases, to some chain of events that you would never dare to see happening in your lifetime.

Inexplicable, unwanted event.. A road bump in your life..

Annoying morning happens to everyone. When it happened to me, a glitch of how life works struck me.

I rode my bike to work this morning, and somewhere along the way to the train station, I hit a bump, and I couldn’t care less. Until I realized that my right bar plug is missing, and that was when I was already on the train. This initiated some thoughts for me. Unhappy and curious thoughts. Why wasn’t it the both of them that were lost because of the bump? Because it’d make the idea of buying a pair of bar plugs ridiculous. Secondly, why did that happen to me? Losing a bar plug because of a road bump was, is, and never will be my fault. Neither can I blame anyone or anything about it. Funny how it is what it is. And lastly, I was already on the train…………… Against all possibilities, I thought “It’d make me look stupid if I go catch a train back and look for it”. From another point of view, most probably my significant other: if I did go back and find it, wouldn’t it make the “me” who did not care to go back and look for it looks stupid? Lesson learnt: stupidity is subjective.

Anyway, the bike looks really ugly with only one bar plug on the left. Asymmetric, UGLY!

I’d say I have been through road bumps in my life. Did I lose anything?