...we live outside the touch of time

My little brother and I are born almost exactly 6 years apart. He's a horse, I'm a rat. In chinese astrology, signs that are 6 years apart are least compatible or downright conflicting. For the first 14 years of his life, he and I proved that chinese astrology isn't infallible. Although I didn't want a baby brother (I even threw a tantrum by locking myself inside the toilet, blaming my mother for carrying a baby boy instead of a girl), when he appeared in our world, I found him to be the cutest thing I've ever laid eyes on.

We were each other's best friends. He was Dewey (named after the youngest son in Malcom in the Middle, before the baby was born in the later seasons), I was Bob. When I obtained my driving license, I allowed him control in the driver seat and he almost banged the wall at a temple within the first 10 seconds. We even cruised around in the college I was studying at to stalk a fellow crush on mine at that time. I trusted his judgement and he would give me his opinions full of his trademark humor and creativity. We played badminton, supported Man United and watched WWE. He was our home's very own live entertainment.

I often wonder, what happened to us? What happened to Dewey and Bob, the dynamic duo? How could we have drifted so far apart that even a shared childhood memory could not bond us back together? We survived turbulence and catastrophies at home, school and in our daily lives, why is it that we are unable to survive this? Does growing up mean growing apart? Are we destined to be strangers from hereon to the eternal abyss even though I knew him from the day that he was born?

However, we did regain what we lost through our own efforts. He's oceans away from me now, living the kind of life that we never imagined was possible for him if not for his own hard work and determination. We speak quite regularly and he can still make me laugh, loud and hard at his ludicrious jokes and preposterous random remarks. He even goes by the name that I gave him 15 years ago and he is as ever, a die hard Man United fan. Many, many things have changed but whenever I talk to him, I feel as though I am speaking to the 10 year old exuberant boy who was afraid of dogs, shadows and piercing darkness. We know each other as we always were. And I tell myself, this is the one relationship I will never ever give up on, although the stars in the sky may say otherwise.

It's my mother's birthday today and I just wanted to thank her for the greatest gift she's ever given to me; Dewey - sports extraordinaire, brilliant scholar, loyal Man United supporter (for better and for worse!), dutiful son and my little brother, always.

love is triumphant

My friend wants to be a toy when she grows up.

In my next life, I wish to be a sports journalist who also happens to be drop dead freaking gorgeous and I would really really like to be dating a professional footballer (preferably a hott goalie).

Cannot believe World Cup is over. Back to the ordinary struggles of every day life (bills, work, laundry, arguments with clients, boss, friends, weight management problems... boring...boring...boring!!!!!!!!!)

bola! bola! bola!

Football was a huge part of my life when I was younger. I followed the EPL religiously, knew the names of Man Utd's first team by memory, scorned Liverpool supporters and woke up at 2.30 am to see England lose on penalties (and Beckham being sent off) in the match against Argentina during the 1998 World Cup second round. I loved football because to me at least, it was a metaphor for life itself. We celebrate our team's triumphs and joys; we mourn their disappointments and sorrows. Similar to the battles and struggles in life and the varied emotions that you and I must experience daily.

However, 12 years later, and I barely know who Kaka, Messi and Mueller are. What happened in those 12 years that I completely lost interest in the game that I was once so passionate about? I guess I developed other "passions" instead, namely real boys that surprisingly do not resemble professional footballers and harmless crushes that later on developed into senseless, meaningless, quasi relationships. Looking back, I should not have diverted my attentions elsewhere. But what does a 18 year old foolish female teenager who is craving for affection from the opposite sex know? All she understands is to search for Love in all the wrong places thinking Love, for all intents and purposes will define her as a person.

So, when I watched the quarter final matches on Friday and Saturday nights, I remember once again how it feels to be a football supporter - undying loyalty and unwavering faith until the very end even when your team is losing. We wish and we hope and we pray for our heroes to come back and fight with every fibre in their beings for gold and glory. Like in life, no matter how many curveballs we are thrown against, we must and we will go on.

resurrection

I haven't written a real entry in Bob's blog in 2 years.

And yet I don't forget the feeling of happiness writing makes me feel. And how once upon a time, I dreamed of becoming a professional writer. Coming back here on this platform feels a lot like going home. No matter how far you go, there are many, many things about home that you can't seem to erase from your memory. It is there permanently, unchanged by time, imprinted in your heart.

What is the heart's memory but love itself?

If there is one superhero power I wish to have, it would be the power to go back in time. Given that opportunity, I would savour every moment I had with my family and friends in those days of childish wonder, before life became so complicated. I would not have wished to grow up so fast, dreaming that life would only get better, once I gained financial independence and freedom.

I'm a little out of practice here given that I haven't done this in 2 years. I haven't read much lately either. I may have also lost whatever little literary talent I ever posessed in the first place in the process of becoming another mindless idiot climbing the corporate ladder (but finding myself stuck at the bottom after all this time :D but that's another story for another day).

hmm...I don't even have an audience (I have lost all my "readers!"). Tomorrow I shall blast an e-mail to all the friends I remember and to all the new friends I've made...till thenn.....dreaming of cereals with yoghurt and blueberries, strawberries and kiwis....