Sunday 29 March 2009

E

Before i continue with the last part of my story, i wanna express how i feel in this post now.
Anyway this is my blog, and other than writing stories about my life that are obviously mildly exaggerated and deep meaningful thoughts, i seldom express my personal emotions about my personal life.



The words of a quiet man is precious.
The silence of a man of many words is equal.

Don't waste your time loving someone who doesn't treasure you the same.

Clapping is a response to something worth celebrating.
It takes two hands to clap. But when one hand is in pain, it is smart for the other healthy hand not to clap, even though it can.



These 3 statements are not just advice from experience, but also exactly how i feel now.
Some people resolve by emo-ing.
Others, like me, write.

If you're smart, you'll understand.

Saturday 21 March 2009

Stitches: Part 2, Unlimited Accidents

You are recommended to scroll down and read the earlier posts titled: "Stitches: Part 0, The Story of How I got my New Stitches" and "Stitches: Part 1, The Beginning", before you attempt reading this post... This will make your point of view on this mini biography a more holistic one. Enjoy~


And so the story continues...



At the blink of an eye, Rickson is now 7.
He has just moved to his new house where he shared a bedroom with his younger brother.
They both shared a double-decker bed, occassional rotating every few years on who shall sleep at the top or the bottom.

Rickson was a nice boy (he still is), and he would often give in to his younger brother (when his younger brother was still young and adorable that is).

The double decker bed has such nostalgic value.
His cousins will often drop by and they would play 'blind man' at night, swinging around like monkeys.
You would expect Rickson to hurt his head here, but he didn't.

It was.. one day, when Rickson wanted to go to bed.
His bed, was the lower one of the double-decker.
In a weird way, he had a habit of running towards his bed at a fast pace and jumping towards it.
"Fun", was what he would described it with his then limited vocabulary.

BUT One day, because of parrallex error
(It was unfortunate that he will only be taught of parrallex error when he's 13, in secondary 1 science curriculum, which will be in another 8 years time),
he ran at his top speed,
jump towards his bed,
and...
........

......
....
...
..
.

"BUANG!!!"

HEADSHOT...



Looking back as he writes this post now, Rickson realized why they say that "Knowledge is Power!"
IF only his teachers had taught him about parrallex error when he was younger...


Word of Wisdom from Rickson:
"Knowledge is Power!
But Stupidity is of Greater Power!!
So get yourself some Knowledge to save yourself from the Devastating Destructive Power of Stupidity!!"
(All these are spoken from pure experience)


Another blink, and he's now 8.
His maid was always mopping the floor at the worst timing.
This time, Rickson was rushing out of the house for school.
With pieces of homework clutched in his left hand, he looks at his watch on his right wrist and hastens his pace upon realizing the little amount of time he had to reach school, not noticing that the floor was all slippery and wet.

When his left heel made contact with the shiny slippery white marble tiles on the floor, it slide forward due to the reduced friction of the wet surface (something he didn't learn in his science class again).
That leg was swung so violently front that the forward motion of it pulled his upper torso backwards.
And all within the split of a second, his weight that was leaning backwards far outpowered the centre of his gravity, causing him to SLIP and...


"BUANG AGAIN!!"

another headshot...




A year later, the 9 year old Rickson walked into his bathroom one day to take a shower.
The floor was relatively wet but he decided to ignore it.
He removed his clothes, walked towards the shower, SLIPPED, AND SOMERSAULTED INVOLUNTARILY!!!!
(For those who didn't catch it, he fell again)


"Another Barlukoo" (Bar-loo-koo, meaning blue black on the bump of the head), his mom likes to say.

He learned that day that 'Ignorance is not a Bliss'.
That Ignorance, is a Blister..



Rickson sits in his classroom feeling all excited.
He was going to recieve his grades for his Primary 4 examination papers.
The next period had just started and the Health Education teacher walks into the room announcing: "Rickson Tan. 90/100!"

He was quite stunned, but he appeared as if it were normal, and went to recieve his result sheet from his teacher.
Back at home, he was so happy that he began singing, dancing and jumping around.
He started jumping on his sofa seat, then on the top of the sofa (the part where you can rest your head).


Little did he remember that his dad had just changed the sofa set awhile ago, and instead of having a strong and heavy base, this one had wheels on it.
When he jumped on the top of the sofa, his weight pushed the sofa backwards, causing him to fly off.
That motion swung his body backwards in the air, causing him to land on the floor...
ON HIS FACE!!!


To be exact, it was on his two front teeth!!

He cried for 15 minutes lying down on the floor hoping someone would come 'sayang' him.
Unfortunately, no one was at home.
He had to cry until he was too tired to cry, pick himself up, called his mum to tell her what happened and listened to his mum telling him that he was stupid.

Even more unfortunate was that he only did well in his Health Education exams but did badly for his other subject which were much more important.
As a result of that accident, the roots of his two front teeth were slightly damaged.


How can someone knocked his head so many times you would ask.
All these may seem horrific, terribly dumb, extremely amusing, or whatever you would like to call it.


But all these, are nothing compared to the next two major accidents that are waiting for Rickson.


Tune in to the next and final episode: "Stitches: The Finale".

Next Time, Right Here, at I-V-O-E.

Sunday 15 March 2009

Stitches: Part 1, The Beginning

You are recommended to scroll down and read the earlier post titled:
"Stitches: Part 0, The Story of How I got my New Stitches", if you've yet to...



Okay, here comes the truth...
(I promise you its not some weird story i came up with, its nothing but the truth now)

Unlike the previous post on the story of "how i got my stitches", this true story is not supposed to be funny, so don't laugh even though it sounds dumb.

Here goes..


There is a beginning for everything under the sun.
But no beginning is entirely something new.
Every beginning begins because something happened before it had began, causing it to begin.
The beginning of the story of my scar, goes back to many things that led it to begin.
And now, i shall begin from when it had not began.


This story goes back to a Rickson at the age of 3.
He was short, cute and chubby. (yes i know, its unbelievable other than the 'short' part)
There are often many different responses parents could react on upon seeing their child trip and fall.

The more traditional (Auntie) Asian would pick their child up and go: "Aiyo ah boy, pain anot? Sayang sayang, don't cry k..."

The strong American Dad will go: "Come on son, pick yourself up, you're a man."

The (ideal) caring and encouraging Dad would stretch his hand to pick his child up and go:
"Son, its allright. The reason why we fall is so that we can pick ourselves up."
(Like Bruce Wayne's dad)


For Rickson, it was a unique response that not many would expect nor experience.
It could well likely be on of the molding blocks of his character when he was all grown up.


The 3 year old little Rickson was walking out of his room one day. He tripped on his little legs and fell towards his room door, knocking his head on the door.
Upon the realization of the pain, tears begin to build up in his eyes.
But just before he could cry...

"Haha.. Orbigood!!"

(Orbigood [Or-bee-good], means 'you deserved it' in Singlish)

He turned around to see his elder brother laughing at the incident.
Before he knew it, his mum realized what happened and came towards little Ricky.
Her fingers slowly parted his hair to the bump on his head.

She looked into little Rickson's eyes and said in Chinglish (Chinese + Singlish) while laughing:

"See lar, never open your eyes properly. Orbigood lar. Your Orbakut so big, now look like you got elephant's head."

(Orbakut [Or-bark-cut] means 'a bumped on one's head due to an injury' in Singlish)


Rickson's elder brother laughed harder upon seeing his mum's response.
With the stinging pain still lingering in his head, he softly massages it with his little palm and stares with disbelief at his brother and mum.
He couldn't help himself, but to...

Chuckle.
He hastily runs in front of the mirror to take a look at the bump on his head, and laughs at how funny it looks.

That explains why at such a young age (referring to the current 21.5yr old Rickson) he has wrinkles on his face when he laughs .


Because he laughed too much when he was young.

(It is a good thing to laugh a lot though)



To be Continued.... (More bumps coming up)

Monday 9 March 2009

Stitches: Part 0, The Story of How I got my New Stitches!

As obvious as the title is, this post is about my new stitches!

Many people ask me how i 'attained' those 5 stitches on my forehead
To save myself the trouble, and to also entertain myself in future when i read back on this post, i shall blog about it.

Here goes..

"It all began slightly earlier than the sunrise of a day in February.
It was 5am in the morning.
The birds were chirping (those that God created to chirp loudly before the sunrise to wake everyone up), the guys were snoring and the bladder was leaking.
Okay, not really leaking, i mean i was just experiencing a high tide lar.

I hastily jumped off my double decker bed with a somersault & a spike and landed on the tip of my toes.
It was all done so stealthily that you could hear the sounds of atoms and molecules colliding in the air (you know, the buzzing sound in the background when you use a lousy sound recorder to record yourself singing because you wanted to listen to your own singing because of your narcissism.)

A loud waterfall could be heard.
And after a few seconds, i was done relieving myself.
I took a slow walk back to my bunk from the toilet.
Suddenly, i felt my left ear tingle.
I focused all my 'focus power' (erm.. whatever that is), on my left ear, and i could hear a cry of help.

Without hesitation, i took off towards the direction of the cry.
Okay okay, i admit i hesitated for awhile.
I was thinking what if something dangerous lies out there and i get hurt? I still have my dog to look after, and and... I'm still single!!

Anyway, after hesitating for only one second (yes, i thought all those thoughts and many more in only one second), i took off towards the direction.
What i saw the next minute left me stunned with appallment for a minute!!

I saw my officer being cornered by a Hugenormous Brown Bear!!
Okay, i know some of you might not believe me, you might ask how do i know its a brown bear when its 5am in the morning and its still dark?
That how can i see the 'browness' of the bear when there is no light yet?

I can't explain this, but i just know its a brown bear.
Its its.. its like.. I guess its coz i studied design in my poly.
Where i learned alot about colour.
And i guess maybe its because i'm too familiar with colours that i am able to see that the bear was brown even in the dark.
Anyway..

The bear was about to attack my officer!!
In a flash, i was reminded of everything that i've learned and experience in life, about my life purpose, etc, etc, yada, yada, yoda, etc..

To cut things short, i ran in front of my officer to shield him.
As the bear's body got closer, i decided to retaliate.
The bear swung his paws towards me.
I dodged it, and out f my reflexes i gave him a headbutt..

And then... then...


Memories of me slacking on my couch watch discovery channel came into rembrance.
I remembered watching with my girlfriend an episode about brown bears.
Wait, i don't have a girlfriend.
Sorry, bad memory, i think its my mum.
Anyway, i was watching the program when i commented on how cuddly the brown bear looks.
I even remembering myself saying that I'll bet with my mum that the bear is as soft as a teddy bear.

Back to the story...
I swung my head as hard as i could, visualizing myself heading to score the golden goal in the Fifa World Cup Finals match.

Kkkrrrr...

My forehead cracked open.

I was wrong..

The bear's head, was harder than i thought...

And that, was how i got my stitches."


Okay, thats the end of my story!!
As in thats just a story, not the real thing, haha..

The real thing, shall come in the next post!!



This post has no value whatsoever in time nor eternity.. Rickson just wanted to waste some time misuising his creativity to write rubbish, and he's glad that he wasted your time (reading) too.. :)