The bus stop vandal.

I was at the bus stop preparing to take the bus to work when I decided to check where the buses that left my home went to. As I went over to look at the bus guide, I saw this.

Someone had pasted two pieces of paper over the bus guide. They were stuck fast with some really strong glue so that their clean removal would be extremely difficult. I thought it was probably one of those notices asking for rooms to rent or offers for tuition, but it turned out to be neither. Here's what was written on them.

I know the second picture is a lot of text so I shall briefly explain what was written on it. It basically alleges that certain members of a certain family control all the big businesses in Singapore, by putting all their different relatives as directors. After that, this person goes on to allege that the ministers below this family set rules in favour of the family to facilitate the maximising of profits. Finally, he asks the family to return the money earned from the MRT business to the people.

I would really like to ask the person who did this - Do you seriously expect anyone to take you seriously? If not, please stop vandalising the bus stop sign because you are wasting taxpayers' money to clean up the damage, on top of inconveniencing users of the bus stop.

It is idiots like you who make life miserable for the people you claim to sympathise with. In no country in the world are governments obliged to provide free transportation systems, because if they did taxes would rise even further, and the poor, which I assume includes you, would suffer even more.

Do you even study economics or have an idea of how economic systems work? The only thing you know is how to complain that money isn't dropping from the sky.

The last I checked, the turnover of SMRT is $802.1 million for the financial year 2008. Where did you get the figure for billions from Mr Vandal? Out of your smart ass? Don't go telling me SMRT doesn't release accurate figures in their annual report because the next thing you're going to tell me is the board of SMRT hides money in milo tins all over their bungalows.

Sure, I'm sure SMRT could return all the money to the people. $802.1 million divided by 5 million people is about... $160. I tell you what uncle, let's just say SMRT gave everyone in Singapore $160 for the whole year and let the transport system run for free. Everyone rejoices. The next day the MRT breaks down and nobody can get to work. Soon we'll be eating rats off the streets.

I'm not trying to be pro-government, but just step back and see how little SMRT is really earning from each Singaporean citizen. It's basically slightly under 50 cents a day. I know people who earn more money than that from you every day. Like the canteen uncle who sells you drinks.

As for the rest of the allegations, it is very easy for you to say something, but without substantiation, I could say an elephant is pink. At least I would be right because this elephant is pink.
Thanks, I know I'm genius.

Every member of the public has a right to read a bus stop sign free of obstructions. I don't care if a certain family is earning too much money like you say. At least the country runs fine. If that is the price I have to pay, I'd gladly pay it. Stop vandalising the bus stop.

the weird guy.

Once in a while, you meet weird people. The only scary part is when they turn out to be very very weird.

I was at my desk when I got a call from one of my superiors to check out someone who had been making a scene at reception. Apparently he wanted to complain to one of us about a dispute between him and his neighbours. Since I was the intern nearest to my supervisor, I got the job.

When I first saw the newsmaker, I had a bad feeling. Something told me there was something funny about this guy. The handshake confirmed it. His hand was cold and clammy for a guy. But a job was a job, so I sat down and listened to him talk.

Immediately, he asked that no matter what I did not quote his real name. After that, when he noticed a group of visitors behind me taking pictures in the lobby, he actually came over to sit beside me, saying that he was afraid of having his picture taken.

I went over to sit on the other side so I could continue the interview, and also because I really did not want to sit beside him. After the whole series of allegations, which included his neighbours assaulting him, police brutality and more, he asked that I did not put his real address in the article. He wanted me to put "somewhere in Singapore".

I told him that people only did that on STOMP. At this point, I was actually perusing his statements. I saw that one of the entries included "wrongful admission to IMH".

Well, I don't know how wrongful it was, but if the police consider you worthy of admission to IMH, there must be something wrong up there. Either that or they were trying to do the Man In Black erase memory thing, but they failed and somehow you remember, hence you were trying to tell me that there's a big conspiracy in the government to erase your memory because you know something they can't afford to let people know.

Yeah right. You think what, movie ah. I told him that everything was done, and he could leave. I then went back to office.

Four hours later, when I knocked off, he was still in the lobby. The only person sitting there.

I was so freaked, I just got the hell out of there as fast as I could.

Dreams and dust.

I was having a chat over the table with my cousins, since it was CNY and we were all broke from gambling.

One of my cousins was reading a research paper about solar cells, possibly the most dry and boring subject you could imagine. But when I enquired about what he was reading, he proceeded to describe the research to me, making every single detail come alive.

Just by listening to him, I learnt how to interpret chemical formulas, the state of solar cell research over the last 40 years, and the current state of research. He actually made science interesting to me, when I had given up on it 6 years ago, deeming myself unsuitable for science.

And the day before that, my electrician uncle was showing me a newfangled device he was working on. He had wired up his house so that with just one remote he could control two tvs, the dvd player and on top of that he had found some way to boost the strength of the internet signal in his house. It was like seriously, the unsexy version of Harry Potter. Magical, but utterly unsexy.

It was then that I realised that perhaps I was never really uninterested in science, it was just that my teachers didn't manage to make it come alive for me. And several years down the road, I find myself a writer, something people tell me I have a talent for. I do not dispute that perhaps I have a better grasp of the written word than the average person, because from what I gleam from STOMP, dey write lyk dis.

However, these two people in my life, they showed me the difference between being good at something, and truly enjoying what you do. Personally, I find that it's not difficult to become good at something if you apply yourself diligently to it.

It's like maths, you can hate the subject, but if you do enough TYS-es, you'll score that A. I failed maths all through JC, so much that my teacher had given up hope on me. She predicted an A for the whole class except me. I got an A anyway, so I shall say it now.

Thank you for not believing in me. It gave me that urge to shove it back up your backside.

It is that extra love for whatever you do that takes you beyond good. You stretch yourself to become better at it because not doing so is harder to do. And over a period of time, it shows.

In the newsroom, there are reporters who have been there for years. They are the most jaded old farts you can imagine, because they have seen it all. When I asked them whether a 3 car pile up on the expressway was a story, all they asked was "Did anyone die? No one? Cheh. Why you tell me, waste my time." Their utter lack of concern for the welfare of fellow human beings was actually refreshing, if not a little disturbing.

But they are the very same people who come in early and leave late. And in a newsroom, you really survive on passion, because the job takes a toll on your physical and mental well being. It is stressful, crazy and utterly unpredictable. And the pay sucks like shit, for the number of hours that you work. But one thing I have noticed is, these senior reporters never ever complain about work.

In my case though, it's just that much harder. Just because I am an intern, SPH pays me peanuts. They claim it is because they are giving us work experience. I honestly think that is bullshit. If I had joined before university, I would have earned $1000. Now, I earn just $600.

My mom used to tell me when I was younger that I had to study in uni, so I would get a better paying job. Oh Mommy, why did you lie to me? Was it because you knew I could not handle the truth?

At this point, I still have no idea if this is something I want to do for life. But I hope that someday, I will find a job I love, because after that day, I no longer work.