life

The Prodigal Son

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I wrote this for Project Listen a while back and I’m re-posting it on my blog so it can be kept as an archive. Cheers to my family for enduring me all this while and I’m glad I have a chance to make it all right.

family

I’ve always felt that I haven’t been doing much for my family. I’ve put them through a lot – it all started when I went to New Zealand as a permanent resident to do my high school in Christchurch. I was 15 then and quite very extremely rebellious.

The freedom I had there pushed my rebellious nature to new heights, and I got involved in drugs, gangs, etc etc – basically your “regular” teenage rebellion multiplied by a billion in intensity.

reverse mohawk

That was more than 15 years ago and although I came to my senses I still never quite bonded with my family, creating more burden and causing more stress instead of what I was supposed to do as a filial son.

I can safely say that during my career as a professional human lab rat, I’ve tried more drugs that the vast majority of other users, sourcing for not just common drugs like heroin and methamphetamine but exotic research chemicals like 6-APB, UR-144 and 5-MeO-MiPT which most people have never even heard of, much less tried.

drugs

I was arrested for drug possession when I was 24 and appeared on many newspapers, some with extremely detailed information about me, which must have caused my parents a lot of grief. I’ve also went through rehab three times and been hospitalized countless times – overdoses, ICU admissions from permanent renal and liver damage, suicide attempts during psychotic breaks.

It was chaotic.

night out

I’ve never felt that I’ve contributed much to the family and I was never really close with them even as I got older. I was in Sibu for a period of time and even then I’m always out with friends when I’m back home for the holidays and coming home just to sleep. I’ve even brought girls back in the middle of the night for noisy drunken sex and wake up the next afternoon to shower together…

…in my parents house!

I never thought of how disrespectful I was being.

I never though of how much I hurt their feelings.

I never even communicate much with them – most of the conversation goes one way – with me talking about the latest exotic drugs I’ve tried, the inevitable escapades with police that I’ve gotten away with, the girls that I’ve fucked.

I never really listened to what their needs are. It took me a loooong time before I started becoming more attuned to their needs. I’m ashamed to even put a year to when I stopped. I shudder to even think about what I’ve done now.

…but like the Biblical story, my parents have always been believed in me despite my numerous flaws and downright disgusting behavior.

My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2010 and it was only then that I understood what family meant. The way our family pulled together to support her as she went through multiple surgeries, radiotherapy and chemotherapy sessions taught me what being related was all about.

I’ve always thought of my mom as a nag, and didn’t spend much time listening to her at all.

mom

However, since the diagnosis, it just struck me how fast the years fly by and how little time we actually have together as a family unit.

I regret not spending more time with my mom, and I started to realize that the “relationship” that I have was basically non-existent – I was just being selfish.

I started to really spend time with my parents at that point. Instead of just gaudily flaunting my sexual exploits, I started to listen more to what they have to say. I developed a genuine interest in their life and well being.

cancer

Hell, I even start to worry about them.

I talk to them more instead of the obligatory weekly check in phone call to make sure I’m not dead or in jail.

I listen and try to get them to talk about their problems.

lung cancer

We eat together when I’m back home instead of me heading out which sad to say was common until as late as 2008.

I lounge in the living room after and chat about everything – news, politics, religion – with my parents instead of skipping out and coming home drunk in the middle of the night.

I understood the importance of just hanging out with my family – listening instead of just talking, helping out with chores at home, comforting my mom when she’s throwing up.

It’s made us into a better family unit.

birthday

I just received a birthday card from my parents (it was somehow lost until a few days ago) and it nearly brought tears to my eyes when I realized that they’ve mailed me one every single year without fail while I barely remember their birthdays.

I am truly ashamed of how I’ve behaved and I’m trying my level best to be a better son now. I visit my mom in Singapore more often, where she’s having her treatments done. We all chip in to help – not just financially but emotionally.

I really want to save up enough money to bring my parents for a trip around the world.

simple meal

They’ve worked hard in raising us and my dad still works hard and I think it would be the least that I can do. I’m actually being extremely frugal right now – limiting the times I go out, being careful with spending, saving up money so I can help out with the medical bills and especially to let my parents visit the world.

They’ve always saved up for our education and it’s time for us to give back

Not because of some attempt to seek forgiveness for past transgressions.

Not because of my ongoing mother’s fight against cancer.

Not because of guilt.

It’s because I want to, out of the love I have for them.

parents

I want them to know that someone cares, someone always will, and that someone is FAMILY.

3 delicious and dirt cheap meals with bread

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I never eat white bread. It’s nutritionally inferior and I prefer the taste of brown bread nowadays anyway. I go for wholemeal/wholegrain (including the fad ones that has “enrichments” like Canadian Purple Wheat). It’s more expensive at RM 2.80 – RM 4.50 but definitely worth it for the additional vitamins for a balanced (hmm..) diet.

1. Sandwiches with surimi, sausages and boiled eggs

bread sausages surimi

This is considered a treat in survival mode. Heh. The surimi is store brand and family pack sized for extra savings, the sausages are the ultimate manifestation of mystery meat (plus it’s on sale at under RM 2) and eggs are eggs – you need them.

Coincidentally, these are the same items I use to cook ramen. smirk

2. Bread with milk

Ah! The staple since time immemorial. I’ll suggest fresh milk – it’s well worth the price premium for the fortified essentials – fat, for one. 😉

bread milk

Just plain bread goes a long way with flavorful fresh milk. Don’t skimp and go the reconstituted crap or low fat variants – if you’re in survival mode, you’ll need those extra calories.

3. Bread dipped in raw egg

This is a surprisingly delicious combo that I discovered. You can do it with balsamic vinegar and olive oil…so why not raw egg?

bread raw egg

Just crack one (chilled – leave it in the fridge for at least 24 hours) egg into a saucer and it can last for 4-5 slices of bread.

You can eat it by it’s own too, there’s taste and texture in some of the nut enriched ones and that’s what I do most of the time. These are just 3 examples are just to break the tedium of eating bread alone.

You know how it goes, man shall not live on bread alone. 😉

A spoiled brat

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lost

That’s what I would call myself in hindsight.

It may sound like exaggeration but it’s really not. I told them when I was in high school in New Zealand that I could support myself financially (through criminal enterprises), that I’m legally an adult there (almost 16) and I was free to do whatever I wanted.

I even said I wanted out of the family.

It took a major crisis that made me reevaluate how my relationship with my parents go and what a shitty son I am.

I’m glad that that’s all in the past and I’m really enjoying a great relationship with my parents now.

Blood runs thicker than water, after all.

Of accents and English

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english

I read something about regional accents being eroded by TV (in this case, the particularly heavy one in Maine) and it got me thinking about the subject of that and how true it is.

I’ve seen people go overseas for barely 6 months and come back armed with heavily accented Aussie/American English, complete with the appropriate slang. Some of them are obviously affected (a nicer term for faked or forced) but it could be argued that they just spent more time hanging with the locals.

Well, I have a pretty good command of the language but my verbal enunciation is sadly lagging way behind the clear grasp I have of the written form.

…and I come from a small town that speaks minimal English and only started using it on a daily basis when I went to New Zealand when I was 15.

I was doing Form Six English and I still can’t figure out if it’s reverse racism that the teacher keeps pointing out to the entire classroom that I’m the best in the class despite it being my second language. I didn’t do ESL (English as a Second Language) like the majority of non-Kiwis there, I went to the regular class.

…and I don’t think Chinese is my first language. I can certainly speak it fluently but can’t write a single cohesive sentence. That is an overstatement, I can’t even make sense of anything except a handful of basic characters. I never bothered learning, it was too hard and my mom didn’t insist when I was a kid unlike the other subjects coz it wasn’t in UPSR (our primary school graduation aptitude test).

I also did my four years of college and university in Melbourne and spent most of the time hanging around Aussies for simple reasons – the lifestyle I was living at that time with (real) raves/doofs and substances is a niche that not many Asians participate in.

Which leaves childhood, since that is the time when language retention is at its highest. I didn’t watch a lot of TV as a kid, it was frowned upon and strictly regulated by my parents. However, I enjoyed reading at a very young age, graduating to age-inappropriate material and adult novels before I even hit puberty.

(which was encouraged by my mom at least)

I still love reading for pleasure – in fact, I’ve somehow conditioned myself to be constipated unless there’s reading material nearly (back home there’s always the latest TIME magazine or National Geographic in the toilet). Hell, I still need to read the news or an ebook when I’m taking a shit nowadays.

Anyway, back to the accent, I’ve never quite figured it out (except for the affected cases) – do people who watch more TV when they’re under 12 years old speak better English?

What is your personal experience?

The elephant in the room

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elephant in room

I had a rather funny encounter during the weekend. A friend of mine walked over to the table I was at before unwittingly (and in total innocence) launching into a hearty and cheerful greeting of congratulations.

That’s it.

The proverbial elephant in the room which we were trying all night to tiptoe around, careful not to nudge it lest it wakes from its fitful slumber, while talking amicably about other stuff; has been disturbed.

My friend just sauntered in and casually pulled its trunk.

Ever had something like this happen to you before?

It was so totally unexpected that I was tongue-tied for a moment before I had a laughing fit. Heh! She didn’t know about the faux pas coz she was truly happy for us.

Sometimes, you just have to laugh. I spent a good minute in loud, teary eyed, belly shaking mirth. I can’t remember laughing this much for a long time.

It is indeed the best medicine…I’m still smiling about the unwitting and good intentioned encounter today. I haven’t laughed so hard in ages. It’s pure and purifying – better than a fistful of antidepressants in therapeutic value.

Thanks Aud! 🙂

Pilfered breakfast in bed

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pilfered breakfast

Bread: Near expiry locally made potato buns picked up from 7-Eleven several days ago
Spread: Pina Colada jam from Club Med, Phuket which is still edible, much to my surprise
Utensils: Disposable cup noodle fork (I eat two at once and keep the spare)
Tea: Gryphon’s English Breakfast Tea (from hotel’s complimentary array) brewed in a cheap ceramic cup with a knockoff design that was a free gift from a twin giant pack toothpaste purchase and a mini thermo lid which I have lost the receptacle from where it came

I was surprised at what I could dig up at home from basically nothing, creating food out of thin air. I’m still lazing around, reading an ebook and I reckon I’ll continue doing that. I haven’t even finished my breakfast, I just came over to write this. Heh.

breakfast in bed

It’s the breakfast of kings! 😀

My dirty little secret

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pregnancy

I’ve only told a few people about this. I think I can count the number of people who knows on my fingers, until now that is. I denied it ever happened at that time, but I feel that writing about the experience can be a catharsis of sorts, and it has helped me grow and improve myself in a lot of ways.

I’ve had an abortion before.

Well, not me per se, but it was a result of my actions that led to the D&C.

That’s a nice, clean, and neat clinical term which stands for Dilation & Curettage – a medical procedure that is commonly used here for first trimester abortions by widening the cervix and surgically removing the contents of the uterus i.e. the fetus by scraping or scooping it out.

I won’t name any names, this is a highly private matter and although a lot of people go through abortions everyday and think nothing of it, I felt that this had an impact on me as I went on a bit of a self destructive rampage after that.

I was brought up as a Christian and even though I’ve moved away from the church at that time, something deep inside me still tells me it’s wrong to take a life. I’m actually pro-choice, people must have the individual rights to choose.

This is just my personal experience and opinion.


Video from Project Listen

Well, the video above is about me talking about the abortion, which has shaped me into who I am now. I’ve quit drugs and for a few years was extremely promiscuous which thankfully didn’t cause any problems health wise.

I was looking through the photos from that period and honestly am horrified at what I’ve done and the sheer amount of sexual partners I’ve had. I’ve deleted incriminating photos but I remember faces from benign photos but not their names.

I don’t regret the experience, only the people I’ve hurt.

The reason I say that I don’t regret the experience is that it has slowly made me into who I am today. I don’t have sex unless I’m in a proper relationship nowadays. It’s a conscious decision I made last year and although the first relationship after that was a disaster (the girl dumped me), I still feel that honesty and transparency is the basis of a healthy relationship.

monster

I know people will judge and gleefully try and make me into some kind of monster but I don’t care coz that isn’t true now. I won’t be defensive about it and start saying stuff like “Judge not lest ye be judged yourself” coz I understand that some people need schadenfreude – to derive pleasure from other people’s suffering.

I understand that all too well, and I guess that’s why I don’t bother defending myself against the various (and sometimes utterly ridiculous) rumors about me. I’m a better person now and although that doesn’t change what I did in the past, I’m trying my best to make amends.

I’ve been doing that since last year and I’m much better off for it. I’m more sensitive and attuned to the needs of others and I’m not a player anymore.

I am still learning to be a better person. It’s kaizen – continuous improvement – and something I’m striving for every single day.

The truth about a 2008 post

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truth 2008

It goes without saying that some of the stuff I chuck into the Satire/Parody category are oblique references to the truth. Here’s a prime example. It’s an open secret, just like the veritas (how ironic) “guest author” posts back in the days.

I didn’t expect so many people to take it seriously and I formulated a response that was approved by my girlfriend at that time. It wasn’t the truth.

I guess I’ll have ED from now on.

Veritas means truth in Latin. Here’s the truth.

I’m truly sorry about what happened.

I ate someone’s sweat

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spit

Okay, I was on my way back home late last night when something very disgusting happened. I’ve posted about it on Facebook but I wanted it here for posterity…

…coz it’s really disgusting. 😡

I’m still a bit grossed out by what happened last night – this security guard I was trailing to get directions on where my car is took off his cap and brushed his sweaty hair before I could tap him on the shoulder and say excuse me.

Obviously, this resulted in surprisingly copious amounts of sweat being flicked to my face and inside my open mouth. (!!!)

I got the directions but it left a bad taste in my mouth. 😉

Waddap cuz

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My cousin is here on a business trip and I had dinner with him to catch up. I actually just met him in Singapore a couple of weeks back, but that was just to pass him some stuff from my sister’s condo. It was about to rain so we didn’t have much time to talk.

poh poh
L-R: Mr. Poh, Mr. Poh.

Interesting fact:
My dad is the oldest son of my grandfather and I’m his youngest son.
My cousin’s dad is the youngest son of my granddad and he’s the oldest son.

Guess how far apart our ages are?

It’s surprisingly not far apart. He’s only older than me by *one year*.

…

…..

…….

………

…………

I wish!

I’m kidding. He’s 24 and I’m 31. That makes it a 7 year difference. My grandfather also beget 7 offspring, which is totally coincidental and has nothing to do with this at all.

Chirashi-Jyu
This is what I usually order when I have Japanese food nowadays. I’m a huge fan of unagi (eel) but due to my unhealthy diet I’ve taken to ordering this pretty consistently when I’m out. It’s assorted sashimi on sushi rice for RM 30.

chirashi jyu

I actually like this version – best I’ve had so far. The selling point was the fatty raw salmon – it’s creamy and delicious! They don’t serve coffee (boo) but however this place has a 4sq special where you can get a green tea ice cream for free when you check-in.

BTW, my cousin is single and available. Heh.

…and that concludes the Book of Numbers in my family scripture for now. 😉

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