*Inhale. Slow exhale... Inhale. Slow exhale... *
Gently drifting along with the slight current, I'm totally relaxed and exhilarated at the same time as I floated among the colourful denizens of the sea. I'm stoked that I managed to achieve neutral buoyancy with my new gear. THIS is perfect. THIS is heaven. THIS is where I need to be. THIS is what I needed to calm my soul.
After a year of dry spell and feeling like a fish out of water, I'm finally back underwater, breathing the much-missed compressed air. But what I missed the most was the feeling of weightlessness, the feeling of gliding effortlessly above the corals, feeling light as air. Imagine, the morning mist gliding and clinging to the contours of mountains but not quite touching the tree tops; this is what diving is for me.
Something blue catches my eye and I stopped drifting for a bit to peer closely. A nudibranch. I'm delighted and I hover for a bit, appreciating this small colourful sea slug. Remembering my buddy, I rotate horizontally and turn up to find him hovering above me, vertically, and acting like a lighthouse as he surveys the underwater world. I twitched my fins and moved on.
*Inhale. Slow exhale... Inhale. Slow exhale... *
The staghorn corals are one and a half feet from my body. I slowed down and spied a small grouper hiding among its branches. He's not happy I'm looking at him and warily turned to look at me face on. It's a good thing he’s not a trigger fish. I clutched my tank banger to my opposite forearm and moved on.
Ahead of me, the dive guide climbed slowly and I followed suit, languidly hugging the contours of the reef. I turned back to check on David. He's following. I turned my mask back down and continued to drift. I see many soft corals fluttering in the current; fishes darting here and there, going about their lives and ignoring the noisy bubble makers. *sigh* Such a paradise.
Suddenly, I heard a loud clanking ahead. The dive guide wanted to show us something. I frog kicked and glided to where Man was waiting. He pointed to a cluster of staghorn corals below us and to my delight, I saw a long black and white banded body. It was a sea snake. The poor fellow was a bit scared I supposed as it tried to wind its way out of our stares. I admired it for a bit and after taking a mental snapshot, I moved out of the way so that others could move in to appreciate this very beautiful but poisonous creature.
Drifting along white sandy bottom, I checked my gauge, a hundred and thirty bar. Plenty of dive time left still yet. Turning up to check on my buddy, I motioned for him to indicate his remaining air. He holds up seven fingers. Seventy bar. I marked the time and signed back Ok. We continued drifting.
*Inhale. Slow exhale... Inhale. Slow exhale... *
We visited reef after reef, making house calls and eye contact with reef dwellers of every shape and size. Some tried to chase us away, some retreated from us and most just ignored us. We continue floating along.
Soon, our time underwater was up. We ascended and did our safety stop. Gently hovering midway, I was already looking forward to my next dive and my next fix of compressed air and the feeling of being gently supported and cradled. *grin*
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Rusty but still inking
It's been a very long time since I last blogged. Many a thing has happened since and they are too many to list down. Some are like butterflies fluttering at the edge of my memory, forgotten but not lost. Some are too painful to remember and too unlucky to forget. And some are like trophies you bring out from time to time to polish and admire.
I guess with Facebook, one can be excused for not keeping their blog up-to-date. One can but shouldn't, really. But then, I still prefer to keep my thoughts private these days.
I just wanted to post something so that I my last posting will be moved down. =p
Monday, July 14, 2008
Photos of recent stuff I did

Yeslam Launch at Starhill Gallery
My Yeslam Launch team
Me and my colleague at the Armani/Casa launch
My Armani/Casa team at the Launch of Armani/Casa boutique in Starhill Gallery
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Drained...
Goshdarnittohell! My colleagues stumbled upon my blog! If you are reading this, you know who you are. All my angst and disgusting self-indulgent rantings.... (like this one) will be known! Oh woe is me... *put back of hand to forehead and swoons*
Oh, who the heck cares?! I don't.
Life has been nothing but one project after another, one press release after another, one more deck and another and another and ANOTHER! And the worst thing is that I have to do other people's work, despite numerous reminders for them to take more responsibility, despite the fact that we agreed to split up work and yet all of it still lands in my lap! Why must I take responsibility for someone else's work? They say it's called being a grown up, I call it being a bloody stupid, naive sucker.
As though I don't have enough work already, as though I have not been pushing 16 hours a day for the past 3 weeks and 14 hours a day for the past 5! And coming in to weekends as well! Why is it that she gets to go off gallavanting and I'm stuck here? Is it fair? Hell no! But can I do anything about it? Sure, QUIT. Like someone like to say, "if you can't take the heat, get out". I'm that close to saying to hell with it all. I feel like one of those lava vents under the sea, pumping out boiling water but no one knows or see because I'm just a tiny dot in the vast ocean.
I really feel like blowing up, like hurling a chair through the window and watching it plummet 11 storeys down and crashing into someone's Civic or Accord.
If it weren't for my AE coming in tomorrow, I think I would have.
I feel really, really tired...
Oh, who the heck cares?! I don't.

As though I don't have enough work already, as though I have not been pushing 16 hours a day for the past 3 weeks and 14 hours a day for the past 5! And coming in to weekends as well! Why is it that she gets to go off gallavanting and I'm stuck here? Is it fair? Hell no! But can I do anything about it? Sure, QUIT. Like someone like to say, "if you can't take the heat, get out". I'm that close to saying to hell with it all. I feel like one of those lava vents under the sea, pumping out boiling water but no one knows or see because I'm just a tiny dot in the vast ocean.
I really feel like blowing up, like hurling a chair through the window and watching it plummet 11 storeys down and crashing into someone's Civic or Accord.
If it weren't for my AE coming in tomorrow, I think I would have.
I feel really, really tired...
Sunday, January 13, 2008
New year, new promotion
Yeah, I got promoted. I'm a PR Consultant now. It's the equivalent as an Account Manager in the advertising industry. They promoted me in December last year but I forgot to blog about it until now. Hey, I'm busy and blogging no longer resides in my priority list.
It used to be something I did everyday and sometimes I would blog a couple of times a day. But no longer. I realised that I was using blogging to vent my feelings that I could not do otherwise. I didn't want to vent to my friends because to be honest, I didn't want their opinions. I just wanted to tell the world how I felt without being judge. I realised now, how childish and immature that was.
I've started keeping a journal again to write my deepest, darkest, angsy thoughts and feelings. I've forgotten how nice it was to physically scratch pen to paper. It's almost like using a fountain pen to pen a letter on onion paper to a penpal. Ahh... the good old days. Haha.
It used to be something I did everyday and sometimes I would blog a couple of times a day. But no longer. I realised that I was using blogging to vent my feelings that I could not do otherwise. I didn't want to vent to my friends because to be honest, I didn't want their opinions. I just wanted to tell the world how I felt without being judge. I realised now, how childish and immature that was.
I've started keeping a journal again to write my deepest, darkest, angsy thoughts and feelings. I've forgotten how nice it was to physically scratch pen to paper. It's almost like using a fountain pen to pen a letter on onion paper to a penpal. Ahh... the good old days. Haha.