Neil Humphreys wrote in his book that Singaporean students could talk for hours on the topic of World War II or Biology, but when posed with questions on subjects not taught in school, for example armpits or doorknobs, they would be blank-faced and silent.

At parties, it's always the case that people have nothing to talk about, especially if they haven't been aquainted before. Too often I've seen a bunch of fifteen-year-olds sitting at the dinner table, staring blankly into their food, mouths chewing mechanically, and eschewing conversation. That sight never fails to brings to mind the picture of cows grazing, unmoving and silent except for the continuous grinding of cud-in-mouth. And the occasional fart. Any talk is always between those already comfortable with each other.

Worse still is the fact that no one even makes an effort to get to know each other. I'd be in a room with some friends, and someone I haven't met walks in. In 95% of my experiences, he/she would not introduce him/herself to new people unless introduced by the host, and even then after their brief handshake they would part ways and probably never see each other again. Throughout the course of the night, they wouldn't speak. No attempt would be made. At the end of the day, no one's phonebooks or email list has grown. Not unless you make the effort to do so, and then continue to talk to them in the future, and meet up again. If not, everything shall be for naught.

So I utterly sympathise with frustrated parents who put up with one-word answers. But who takes the blame for this lack of social skills? I've been told that the situation gets better as people get older, but I'm impatient. It's getting extremely annoying. Bah.

Like Christmas turkey without the stuffing: Just Turkey, Everyday Food

It's ironic that a weblog of ones life is supposed to be the conduit for his thoughts, yet it rarely fills that role. There's always someone who would take offense. There's always someone who'd ridicule it. Just the trivial stuff gets through.

So what, then, is the use of a weblog?

Every day as I walk up the stair,
I meet a man who isn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
I wish, oh I wish he'd go away.

-Hughes Mearns

Very annoying, this is becoming

'To play Bach, first you must feel calm and peaceful. Have no fear of the notes. I see much fear in you,' says the wide-eyed piano teacher who's slowly turning green and sprouting pointy ears.

I know, I know, it leads to anger, then hate, then suffering.

Adventures in the Concrete Jungle

And as I sat detached from the pulsing lights and thumping bass, I witnessed the majesty of an animal, long believed to be extinct. Sure, the wild creature was aged, but age brought a craggy and world-worn ruggedness that must have lent a sort of charm, not to mention a glib tongue. It was at home in the concrete jungle, for it carried itself with an ease that I undoubtedly lack.

Bruised, bleeding, blistered and suffering from all other kinds of maladies, I could only watch in wide-eyed admiration, while my little talking shadow gave random odd comments about the whirling masses that surrounded us.

The animal may grow old, but will never die.

But there still is only one Two of Diamonds

It's an uncomfortable realisation that not every one in the world shares your interests. 'Specially at this age of our lives, when everyone's trying to find out what he likes, and what he is like.

What is even more disquieting is that you are told that you'll eventually find out what you want, but the word to look out for is 'eventually'. So what is one to do in the downtime?

Opinions are amorphous things. Too bad sometimes your's is different from everyone elses'.

Of Prodigal Birds and Stupid Humans

There's this 'exhibit' in the Jurong Bird Park. I'm convinced that it's some cruel prank by the park.

Called the Talking Birds Section, it consists of a couple of lonely-looking parakeets and other multicoloured cousins, each solitary in their cages. The shack they are housed in, relative to the grand, spick-and-span enclosures in the park is, well, a dilapidated old shack. In front of each cage stands a sign. The names of the birds and the words they apparantly can speak, obscured by a layer of grime, are written on these signs.

Now if I were an ageing bird with creaky limbs and a bad case of ED, living in maddening solitude, I wouldn't be in the mood to talk to anyone other than my own kind. That statement must be pretty accurate because the birds didn't talk at all either. I also doubt they understand the words they were taught to say, but that is redundant because of the first point.

Obviously other people don't understand that, so what they do is call the names of the birds in retarded, croaky, voices in an attempt to get them to talk. It doesn't work. These humans would keep at it for many minutes until they lumber away, cursing the 'stupid birds'. What they don't realise is how idiotic they look while trying to talk to the birds. One has to experience it for himself.

There's a CCTV camera in the vicinity. Imagine the laughs generated for the staff.

These lines, ad-libbed, were well-rehearsed.

Well I haven't memorized all of the cute things to say,
But I'm working on it.
Maybe I'll master this art form someday,
If I quote all the lines off the top of my head.
Would you believe,
That I fully understand all these things I've read.

Im just trying to find my way,
Trying to find my way,
The best that I know how.

In the depths it's real name was forgotten.
Fetal, it's curled up, died, is now rotten.
A thing I've learned is even if you really care,
Some people will hurt you and no-one will raise a hair.

It's a bitch convincing people to like you,
If I stop now you'll all call me a quitter,
If lies were cats you'd be kitty litter.
The Olympic swimmer drowned in the lake.
A man was murdered on his birthday with poisoned birthday cake.

I would say that this has been an unforgettable experience, but then again, a jalapeno up the rectum is an unforgettable experience too. Everything has it's good and bad days I guess. Just like the stock market. Someone once told me that the world revolves around sex, but I disagree.

Instead, I think that the world is one big playground filled with 6-year-old schoolkids. The difference is that these schoolkids have big guns, and nukes, and millions of bucks to boot. Everywhere you go it's just the same similar situation where the big bad bully makes faces at the little kids and sometimes there's this upstart who tries to defy him, and then he gets squashed.

Straining my ears,
Praying for time,
Why the hell did I commit this crime.

Slips of the mouth ain't no felony.
But nevertheless, the guilt hurts on the inside,
Never something you should hide.

Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

Done: The flirt-fest that was named Stock Challenge.

*Dabs trickle of blood from nose*

'He could have sworn that the pretty girl sitting in the adjoining table was winking at him just so he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the latest stocks and shares. Yet, he still managed to scrape an above average score. He only wishes he had better self-control and was not a weak-willed fool, because he undoubtedly would have won if that was true.'

Oh dear God some teacher from school just called me, and is asking for bloody HOMEWORK. Dammit there isn't a single day of rest for me. All in the life of an ACS guy I guess.

Haze until december + training 4 times a week = Lung cancer

Goodbye world, tell Santa sorry I was naughty this year.

I learned absolutely nothing from school this year that I would probably use in the future.

With one exception.

First impressions count.

'Don't judge a book by it's cover' is a saying that absolutely no one abides by.

At the beginning of the year, I had replied, tongue-in-cheek, to a question set by my chem teacher with an answer that drew racous laughter from the classmates. Somehow, it spread like a wildfire and every student and teacher knew about my little self-deprecating joke.

I was foolish to think that the repercussions of the joke would die down after a week or two. Instead, it stuck in the minds of everyone 'till today. It took a year of trying to disprove the first impression to change their minds. Hm.

Intro/Outro

Fooled again,
Blood, sweat and tears,
All for naught.

Yet the things,
That I had forgone,
Meant everything.


The black tyrant fell from the sky,
Halo 'round his head, but bringing his white lie.

The visions dancing in my mind,
The early dawn, the shades of time.

Am I awake or do I dream?
I'm seeing the strangest pictures I have seen.

He may not be the greatest math teacher we have had, but shit his attitude cannot be doubted. He walks into class, tells us stories about his wife's husband, and teaches for five minutes. Then he gets it all wrong. His math's kinda wonky, but his physics and chem rivals the best out there.

Still, he can't teach for nuts, and despite everything we do to him, he still has faith in us. I feel just obliged to practice some.

Some people say things for the sake of saying them
They hardly know what they mean.

End of Chapter

I am a dreamer, don't want to wake,
You can't break my spirit though my dreams you take.
Really, it ain't no fair.
Falling down and down this oiled stair.

It's hot as hell, in this room,
Sure hope the weather will break soon.
The air is heavy, heavy as a truck,
Need the rain to wash away my bad luck .

I'm a cartoon in motion,
A hero who shows no pain.
I slip for a second,
And you laugh at anothers shame.

My head won't hang,
Caught in the wrong time, wrong place.
The wounds will heal.
To the world, I'll still show my face.

'Everyone has a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives, yet everyone is clueless about how he should lead his own.'

-Paulo Coelho

The colour of the sky,
Reflected in the window of the school bus,
Is depressed and dull.

A whispering and sighing,
Of the wind it's not comforting but chilling.
A zephyr lacking in zeal.

Interesting point brought up yesterday.

I was told that it's sometimes better to hang out with geeks than other people. The reasoning behind this is that these 'other people', at parties, are always trying to look cool, and every strained action is scrutinised, from one's clothes to one's accent. Whereas with geeks, you could just be yourself. I agree with this, except that anyone close enough to accept you for who you are would take the place of 'geek'.

Thinking about it, I believe that I am a geek, deep inside. I remember openly declaring my geekness by discussing the Lord of the Rings and Star Trek lore with my long-lost friends from primary school, but now it's all been sheathed by a facade of 'cool things'. Not that I want to bring that side out again in public, I'd be ponded more often than I already am. Ironically, I was the bright spark who introduced that colourful concept. In fact, I could actually prove this from whatever's happened in the classroom this year.

That clears some things up for myself. I'm still convinced that I'm not wise.

P.S. Cephas please don't get pissed at my MSN DP, it's all tongue-in-cheek. You know I'd never really insult anyone.

I once said that I'd never willingly run more than five kilometres at a stretch.

I guess I lied.

Is 20.17 minutes good? I dunno. I can do 9.50 for my 2.4km.

So as I walked back home, I passed the playground. A family of cats stared at me, and I unconsciously started humming the tune to 'Bright Eyes'. It's scary how cats keep eye contact with you, while dogs, monkeys and humans like to pretend there's something more interesting hanging around behind your ear. Normally, they'd stare at you until you walk a good ten metres away, but today I decided to hold their gaze. Now let me say this, you don't want to be in a staring competition with a cat.

Slightly unnerved, I did my chin-ups at the fitness corner (bragging rights well earned). There was a kid there who I didn't recognize. I don't think he would have looked out of place at the library, but don't forget where we were. He spoke to an elder woman in hushed tones, while throwing glances at me.

Going to the point, the woman who I guessed to be his mom approached me and initiated conversation. Not-so-subtly, she turned to the topic of studies. I answered truthfully, saying that I was from ACS and stuff. Growing more and more disappointed, she suddenly popped a question which I wouldn't have expected in a thousand years. "What did you get for your PSLE?"

Slightly stunned, I replied. She brightened considerably and bluntly stated that her son, in collared polo shirt and short shorts, did better than I. In my mind, I was like,'So what?!!?!? It was three bloody years ago'. Instead I nodded dumbly, only accentuating my academic inferiority. The kid, who looked like he was 13 or 14, seemed to share the same thoughts that I did but didn't say, and he visibly shrunk away, embarassed.

Obviously the progenerator of a child prodigy and therefore the superior in this conversation, the lady went on to give me advice about studying hard and how important it is to my future. Like I haven't heard a lifetime's worth already from the people I see every day.

I made a feeble attempt to escape by saying that it was late and stuff, but she overrode me. Abrubtly changing the subject to the touchy one of girls, the above repeated itself. I really really couldn't take it and hoped that my discomfort was showing on my face. The sun had actually begun to set, and I took that opportunity to say that it was late and run off. I think I would have done another 5 km to get away from the woman there.

Back at home, I was thinking to myself,'What the hell is wrong with Singaporeans these days?' I mean, some people I know are better than me at pretty much everything we do in common, my best friend being one. Great! So what? Metallica said,'It's not who you are, it's who you know'. I'm happy with what I got (not really, but still quite happy), but i guess some people just can't have enough.

'One of those people who take so long to coalesce into a definite person; just this big blob going through adolescence'

-Sigourney Weaver

Oddly enough, when I try to pick up a skill, I don't improve while doing the activity itself. For example, I tried ice skating a couple months back, and couldn't even stand straight for the entire 2 hours. I kept slipping and sliding like fresh tofu. Then the second time I gave it a go, I miraculously could shuffle around, albeit at the pace of a handicapped snail. Now but today, I had my third attempt. I instantly could skate not just like a normal human being, but faster than most people there. This unexplainable improvement in skill holds true for everything I've done, and it still baffles me.

I will test this theory next time I go wakeboarding, which is exhilirating. I would have stayed at the lagoon had I not run out of money.

An angel,
Garbed in clothes of a devil.
Delivered a message,
Veiled in clothes of hate.

Negative,
Connotations of resentment.
Flitted across my mind,
And swatted to death.

Days later,
It came back to me, this time,
Stark and undisguised,
Bittersweet but banal.

A trend I've noticed recently is that my friends are blogging about how they hate blogging.

Now, a more accurate description of "bloggers' block" would be not be that blogging has gotten old or one has nothing left to write about, but short-term memory loss. Throughout the day, we all experience things that upon seeing, we say to ourselves,"I gotta blog that," but our mind discards it five minutes later, like last week's cheese that's turned an interesting shade of green. When we get home, our mind is blank as my term 4 art project canvas.

I also think that some people (the ones I know at least) are missing the entire point of blogging. Web-based diaries are exactly that, diaries that are on the world wide web. Rather than recording the day's activities, I believe that reflecting on the thoughts that went through one's head would be slightly closer to the mark. I've mentioned this before, just that now it's refined a bit.

Intellectual idiot, I like the sound of that.

Womad was great! Unfortunately, all but two of the friends who came with me left early because their eyes felt like they had weights on them, and they were complaining of strange unexplainable hallucinations despite not taking any sort of alcohol or poppy-related products. What sissies(jk). Phone battery died at the same time I needed it most too... bummer.

N, could you care to explain why and how the hell you happen to know half the people who walk past us at 2 in the morning, at an ulu little coffee shop in Joo Chiat? JOO CHIAT? Go easy on me next week too pls, I'm sensitive.

Dad, if you ever find a Chinese Nasi Padang stall, let me know, and we could set up our Indian Bak Chor Mee stall next to it, and make big bucks. Saying that aloud was hilarious, albeit embarassing for us.

Ode to Candid Cam

I may be naive,
I may not understand your plight.
You may be all broken inside,
But believe me, I don't want to fight.

I thought we were friends?
Help us up when fallen on our face?
But no, you misunderstand and misinterpret,
In this dog-eat-dog rat race.

Maybe you don't know it,
C.D., Tony and South.
We joke but don't mean it,
Just can't control our mouths.

You surely don't know one thing,
Someone's looking out for you.
He's closer than you imagine,
It's true, but I won't say who.

Loosen up a little buddy,
Maybe someone'll jump out and say 'Your'e on candid cam!'
Alright, the joke's on me,
How about that for an idea eh S_m?

1 - 0, to Kanoyt

It was a long and bitter struggle, but through sheer will and determination, Kanoyt prevailed in an epic battle against a hideous monster from the deepest reaches of the earth, where no man has ever trod.

It was a roach. Nasty bugger. Flied around too,

Like a mosquito.

Have you ever seen cartoons where a dopey, loveable character prepares to exterminate an annoying bug (who's always cheeky and sly) with a can of ACME spray, and proceeds to spray himself in the face? That's pretty much what happened here. Then I got flustered and emptied half the can (the right way round) onto the poor but deserving monster. It didnt last 3 seconds. It must've realised the futility of attempting to flee, because it just sat there as I approached it, rather than buzz around like it did when I noticed it's dark presence. Alot of it did get on the floor though.

I have gained from this experience. I walk away now, stronger and braver, with a slimy floor and a funny smell as mementos of my struggle.

Each morning, he gets up,
Heaves a great big sigh.
He works so hard,
But wonders if it's all a big fat lie.

He works so hard,
All the way to the bone.
His hard earned pay,
Eaten by those living in his home.

He's finding himself slowly,
Going back to those golden days.
Of games and running free,
Away from the smoke and haze.

So unappreciated by all,
It's good old dad week.
Mom, brother, say thank you,
'Cos without your love, he'll turn into a sad old freak.

To lengthen a string of rotten luck this week, I sprained my ankle during hockey training.

Idiot me still decided to play soccer during PE today, which resulted in a worse ankle and some blisters on the guard area I was wearing for good measure. And I have this huge patch of white where it was, because all the skin around it tanned by quite a few shades. I'd take a picture but my phone's still broken. Have to wait till the weekend to get it fixed, AND then I have to wait for it to be fixed, AND then I'll have to wait till the next weekend to pick it up. I'm gonna go crazy.

I'm going slightly mad,
I'm going slightly mad.

They are giggling at me.
The babies' faces on daffodils,
I run and play on four limbs.
Over and over the rolling hills,

I'm going slightly mad,
I'm going slightly mad.

The faces are trying to tell me something,
I realise that I'm missing a few screws.
I ain't really in the pink of health over here,
The extent of which I have no clue.

I'm going slightly mad,
I'm going slightly mad.

I'm one card short of a full deck,
I feel like I'm sick at sea.
My brain is melting outta my ear-holes,
I think I've become the banana tree.

I'm going slightly mad,
I'm going slightly mad.

Cold turkey

*twitch*

My phone is broken!!! Woke up last morning and it refused to switch on! It just died on me!

I woke up in the middle of the night last night, and dismissed it as the natural waking period of sleep.

I heard the voices of men speaking to each other, from nowhere in particular. The voices seemed strangely familiar. Guessing they came from some neighbours, and they were the reason I woke from my slumber, I tried to return to the land of candy and bunnies.

Then a dull orange blob floated across my ceiling. It changed shape from birds to the face of Freddie Mercury.

I didn't scream, but attempted to sit up and investigate what the amorphous thing was. Failed that. It felt like there was some force pushing down onto my chest. Naturally, having read my share of ghost stories, I tried to scream there, but for some reason my mouth didn't listen to me. I can't remember anything else, except dire panic.

Scary stuff. Must be the ghosts from hell.

It's actually a medical anomaly called hypnogogia, where a person undergoes REM-like brain behaviour but takes in visual signals at the same time. Meaning, I was dreaming with my eyes open, and being asleep, my limbs wouldn't respond to commands. Well despite this scientific explanation, it's still gonna be a rough night tonight.

Runners' High

It's like when you run yourself dead, and then when you feel like you can't go on anymore you put in an insane burst of speed. You'll lose all feeling and it's wonderful. It happens when your muscles can't take any more lactic acid from respiration, and then your body releases it's natural drugs, similar to morphine. But you do get a sort of hangover, your legs after that will feel like jelly and you can't walk for a while. How fun.

First impressions count for much, but they are wrong occasionally. For example, a certain someone I met recently seemed like a nice and warm person, but turned out to be sly and wily, the form of a desperate housewife. In fact, the bloody witch casted a spell on me and now I am incapable of burping my alphabets I'm wary now.

And I'm wearing a tinfoil hat from now on too.

A boy tries hard to be a man.
His mother takes him by his hand.
If he stops to think why,
Oh why, Does he start to cry.

His dreams will never be fulfilled.
Rushing away like water spilled.
If he stops to think why,
Oh why, Does he start to cry.

He thinks that he's no special guy,
But he's only convincing himself of this lie.
Love flashes through his mind,
But in reality, he's gone blind.

Wake up kids we got the dreamers disease.
Age 15 they got us down on our knees.
Sound polite, we're too busy still sayin' please.
Friends, when you're down, stab you in your back.
Same damn thing, it's just a different day.
Phone stolen, we smash their Mercedes-Benz.
First we run; and then we laugh till we cry.
Then we find, they're tears not born of mirth.
But when the night is falling and you cannot find the light.
You feel your dreams are dying.
Hold on tight, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

My last birthday wish is to be able to dream again.
I may have said that we sleep not to dream, but to get energy to do what we do in the waking world, but I take that back now.
For years, my sleep has been dreamless and desolate, and I yearn to swim in plains of grass and run over the great green sea. I even miss going to school without any pants. o.o
Sleep has gotten boring!

<.< >.>

P.S. If miss G is reading this, i take back saying that *all* GEPers are boring people. I had forgotten to mention that my best friend happens to be one too.

I sit now,
In an air-conditioned room.
Garbed in nothing,
Except frayed linen slacks.
Ev'rything seems,
Warm and fuzzy to the touch.

I had cake,
For lunch today.
Choc'late and cheese,
Baked by that Wei Ling.
A guinea pig,
But it tastes good anyway.

Hit the gym,
Lifted one notch higher.
Fell asleep,
In the lukewarm bath.
Wakened by,
The shower's head knocking mine.

There is,
No homework to do.
I walk 'round town,
With a funny headpiece.
People stare,
And I laugh at their wide-eyed faces.

All is good.
Yes all is good.

Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last.
Just kicking down the cobble stones.
Looking for fun and feeling groovy.

I've got no deeds to do, no promises to keep.
I'm dazed and drowsy and ready to sleep.
Let the morning time drop all its petals on me.
Looking for fun and feeling groovy.

Not gonna let trivial things bother me.
Limerence's driven out and I feel reborn.
All is groovy.

Yesssss early birthday presents!!!!

Looking forward to the days when friends realise that the world doesn't have to be all street and gangsta', and kind words can be exchanged without grimaces. Friends will actually remember the occasion, and gifts, no matter how small, will be presented. That'll be the best birthday.

I'm willing to wait. :)

More important advice on life:

When slacking in class with friends, never put your back to the door. You never know who might walk in at the same moment when you shout some expletive or come to the punchline of your lame, crude, joke.

Don't ever say to your ah beng hairdresser, "Do something different this time. I wanna look cool." You'll end up looking like a conked, mohawked lion.

Always listen to the enormous man while on the MRT. You know who I'm talking about. He's the one who takes up two seats, talks loudly on his phone while covering all the other passengers with a mist of spittle, and makes you and your buddy leave your seat so that he can sit down. Although it may not seem so, his intentions are noble when he gruffly tones, "Boy, get up." This is because he cannot balance properly if he tries to stand in the train car. Imagine an oily 400 pound monster in a T-shirt too disgustingly tight for him rolling down your carriage, squashing hapless screaming passengers. Or worse, imagine him smashing into the walls. The train would be lifted straight off it's tracks and onto it's side. So kids, just let the big sweaty man sit.

I resolve to put an end to the angry posts. This will be happy week. Only happy things.

Cold and alone,
I give a frightened mewl.
Sad and sorry,
I want to start anew.

Where is the restart button,
That I can just push.
Save game at the good parts,
Reboot when life turns to mush.

Dissolve and reform,
Erase and redraw.
Not in this life,
My canvas has tore.

I can only laugh at the irony of the situation. The laughter is lacking in mirth, sadly.

These tears are going nowhere.
I've got to get myself together.
I'm stuck in the moment.
Later won't be any better.
In the water, I'm half asleep.
Warm and comfortable,
Until I realise it's too deep.
I'm stuck in the moment.

It is said that a man's only way of escape from the cold, cruel world is through drink, departures and dreams. For me, brief adventures with friends offer some respite from daily worries and melancholia.

The week long reprieves from work will be sorely missed, them being the overseas trips and more recently, the model UN Conference, which was an impetus-lacking and engaging affair.

The parade of nations was completely relaxed. My presentation induced a sort of euphoria that I guess, is akin to the double-panadol-in-coke drug abuse. Here's the gross and pun-filled script that was miraculously created mere minutes before the presentation itself.

Rakshit: Hi, we're the delegates from Brazil, and it's great to see you all.
Anton: Brazil! The land with the most beautiful beaches(ugh #1) in the world.
Amil: You all have heard of chestnuts(ugh#2)
Anton: Walnuts!(ugh#3)
Rakshit: And peanuts!(ugh#4)
Amil: But today, we present to you, brazil nuts!
*all 3 take out packs of nuts from various pockets*
Anton: We Brazilians have the biggest nuts in the world!(ugh#5)
Amil: Our nuts are very oily, and are crushed, and their essence extracted. This essence is used for lubrication...(pause) in the industry!(ugh#6)
Rakshit: Our nut essence was used by the Nut-zis(ugh#7) during WWII!
Anton: Not only do we Brazilians rock with our nuts, we rock with our balls too!(ugh #8)
*soccer balls drop from ceiling*
Rakshit: That's why we're gonna win the world cup!(this was done after Brazil was knocked out)
Anton: So if any of you guys would like to eat our nuts, please see us later.(ugh#9)

Definitely entertaining for a 15-year-old male audience, I think.

They go about, telling us what to and what not to do.

According to the script, we rebel.

And then we receive a lecture, or worse.

But would they really rather us as lifeless, robot-like beings who always do as we are told, without so much as an inaudible grumble? Do they consider the repercussions where we grow up to be slaves, controlled by so-called discipline?

Maybe, just maybe, rebellion is part of one's character-building. But wait, what if things work both ways? If we rebel but they leave us be, there would be no fun. I dunno.

All four seasons.

Unreasonable at times, appearing to vent the day's anger on her children, yet tolerant and cheery at others, mommy can change from sunny to stormy in the blink of an eye.

Grounded by a wintry eye,
And a hot, stinging remark,
She can be kind, she can be cool.
I'm always guessing like a game show fool.

Lifted by a kind word,
And a sweet, warm embrace,
After a hard, hard, day at school.
I'm always guessing like a game show fool.

Changes her mind like she changes her sweaters,
From one minute to the next it's hard to tell.
She can be kind, she can be cool.
I'm always guessing like a game show fool.

Breathe! Don't forget to Breathe!

*furious*. Why is it we have everything we need, and everything we want. YET the thing that we want MOST of all, is juuust always outside of our grasp? It may not be something material. I have a cool phone that cost a pretty penny, I bought a new pair of birks last month, but what I seemingly would die without at this time (yes, I know this sounds spoilt, it'll pass once I lose faith in the world) doesn't even cost mere peanuts.

I sat down and wrote this letter,
Telling you that I haven't felt better.
Since you’d gone and I was free,
I've been so lonely.

I have so little time to spare now,
I ain't wanted anywhere now.
I'm always stuck at no. 121 Dover,
Friends have stopped coming over.

Feeling sorry for myself,
Wishing I am someone else.
I walk aimlessly around the city,
'Cause I cannot stand others' pity.

Begging doesn’t do the trick,
People think that I’m a lunatic.
The police arrive in time for tea,
Say they’d like to question me.

It hasn't been the best of days.
How I'd love to fly away.
It seems like good luck is always late,
I can only curse my fate.

Why can't I have the average 14-year-old's blog, where he writes,"Today I had mee pok for lunch. It was good. I'm so happy because the pretty girl at church smiled at me today!!!"

Hmph. I blame the need of the average teenager not to be average. When being out, is in, posts like these appear in places where they shouldn't, like this blog.

According to this quiz, because I sometimes experience déjà vu, I will meet someone not related to me in 14 years' time. Hmmmmm...

The next 14 years seem lonely to me..

Rules of Conduct, term 3 of school:

Don't cry,
Get high.
To live, you gotta fly.
Gotta fly.

Don't cheat,
Stand the heat.
Try to, keep on your feet.
Keep on your feet.

Don't feel,
Never heel.
Though beat, refuse to kneel.
Refuse to kneel.

Don't touch,
Or clutch.
Don't hope for too much.
It's too much.

Don't freak,
Don't leak.
Feeling too weak.
Way too weak.

Life's tough,
Play rough.
I've had, enough.
Had enough.

On the last true day of our brief taste of actual happiness, one realises(in hindsight, as usual) that the whole holidays were wasted(intellectually), and the free time was taken for granted. I resolve to make better use of my next vacation. I resolve to resolve the same thing after I fail next time.

You say that the river,
Always finds it's way to the sea,
And like the river,
You will come to me,
Beyond the borders,
And the dry lands,
Like a river...
Like a river...

A disease without a cure.
Like some divine will.
There is no stopping you.

Pain and suffering comes,

Like an ugly stalker.

There is no escape from you

It's deja vu, all over again, twice, again.

I'm on an island at a busy intersection.
I can't go forward,
I can't turn back.
Can't see the future,
It's getting away from me.
I just watch the tail lights glowing.
I'm one step closer to... nothing.

I'm hanging out to dry,
With my old clothes.
Finger still red,
With the prick of the old rose.
Well the heart that hurts,
Is a heart that beats.
Can you hear the drummer slowing?
I'm one step closer to... nothing.

What am I looking for

What happened,
What happened to the friends you could speak your mind to.
The ones with whom you could compliment at every thing done right.
Rather than deprecation of others, and tooting one's own horn.
Those who you could hug, and leave it at that, just a hug between friends.
Where did those friends go?

P.S.
CA is right. You really do act like a retarded baboon the first time.
And the second.
And the third.
Hope that stops soon.

A boy tries hard to be a man.
His mother takes him by his hand.
If he stops to think why,
Oh why,
Does he start to cry.

His dreams will never be fulfilled.
Rushing away like water spilled.
If he stops to think why,
Oh why,
Does he start to cry.

My Johari Window

I saw this in someone else's blog today.

Simply click on the link, and follow the instructions.

Please, please, please answer truthfully. I would rather you not participate if you are going to be a jerk here.

KANOYT'S JOHARI WINDOW

Oh, and remind me to check the results. I tend to forget.

The lost soul.

I knew a boy, he went to school.
What a friend!
He was funny and cool.

But all of a sudden, madness struck.
He was nasty.
We think his brain got stuck.

Now he's just another lonely, lost soul.
Hollow and alone.
No one likes him no more, we're told.

Disc Jockey Samy.
He thinks he's funny.
He'll learn sooner or later.
Soner for his sake, later for our's.

All the promises we're made,
From the cradle to the grave,
nature, will break.

What's that law, that says that the worst thing will most likely happen at the worst time possible?

Murphy's Law, that's it.

It's the small daily things that we've come to take as normal. However, when we scrutinize these things, we realise that there is a pattern. All of these have happened to me on various occasions:

When at the bus stop, every bus except the one you need to take arrives.

Your side of the road never has free taxis driving on it.(classic!)

When you need something from the heap of stuff at the 'sale' cart at Isetan, it's always at the bottom of the heap.

The same day you forget your umbrella is the day it rains.

I know a boy, he went to school.
He knows not that he's playing the fool.
He barely knew his name.
They tried to tell him, he would never listen,
He would never be, as popular as the guy on the TV.
He turned the other cheek.

Theres no time for us.
There's no place for us.
What is this thing that builds our dreams yet slips away from us.

Who wants to live forever.

There's no chance for us.
It's all decided for us.
This world has only one sweet moment set aside for us.

Who wants to live forever.

Don't you hate it?

I do.

When you have the opportunity to do something profound, something that would change everything, but you find that you don't possess the courage to reach out and do it.

Realise, then, that it's not that you don't have the courage, but you refuse to dig deep enough to find it within yourself. Realise, then, that you are weak.

I'm on an island at a busy intersection.
I can't go forward,
I can't turn back.
Can't see the future,
It's getting away from me.
I just watch the tail lights glowing.
I'm one step closer to... nothing.

I'm hanging out to dry,
With my old clothes.
Finger still red with the prick of the old rose.
Well the heart that hurts,
Is a heart that beats.
Can you hear the drummer slowing?
I'm one step closer to... nothing.

Nope, it Ain't Time Yet

A winter's day,
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen shroud of snow.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.

Don't talk of love,
Well, I've heard the word before.
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I am shielded in my armor,
And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries


Oh no, it isn't. I'm not ready yet.

But when I am, better watch out, 'cos I'm gonna grab the bull by the horns.

At Long Last, Freedom

Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get

Desperado, oh, you ain't getting no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they're driving you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talking
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be raining, but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you
before it's too late.

The exams may not be over, but the feeling of elation is already in this house. A kind of relief that is palpable. It came when it was least expected.

Small talk. 'Ridiculous.' That word seemed to open a window in my head, letting the sweet zephyrs of euphoria in. Unusual, it's delivery was. Not good news, neither the opposite. More like an unexplainable disgust at myself, and then, like breaking water, pure, untroubled, lightheartedness. Much like having a great load off your shoulders. I'm not thinking right. Even I myself don't know what I'm typing here. It's hard to explain.

Now, in my peculiar form of ecstacy, I found something extremely amusing. I laughed so hard at this.













My god, it's like some insane asylum. One can only guess the unspeakable horrors that take place within the corrugated tin walls. The brave people who enter this ghastly edifice should be honoured.

This is amazing

The Crushed

The dreaded period of examinations exerts a multi-tiered pressure on every individual.

The tepid air in the home puts a force on the shoulders that is akin to having a truck on your back. Worse, it's not helped by the old guys.

Parents somehow grow a fearful paranoia, born of the unknown. They begin to deny every little pleasure one can indulge in. Random excuses would be made to refuse things that would traditionally be customary. At any rate, it borderlines on the giving of permission for involuntary institutionalization.

Maybe its the fear of the bubonic plague.

Your Brain Usage Profile:

Auditory : 38%
Visual : 61%
Left : 38%
Right : 61%

Amil, you possess an interesting balance of hemispheric and sensory characteristics, with a slight right-brain dominance and a slight preference for visual processing.

Since neither of these is completely centered, you lack the indecision and second-guessing associated with other patterns. You have a distinct preference for creativity and intuition with seemingly sufficient verbal skills to be able to translate in any meaningful way to yourself and others.

You tend to see things in "wholes" without surrendering the ability to attend to details. You can give them sufficient notice to be able to utitlize and incorporate them as part of an overall pattern.

In the same way, while you are active and process information simultaneously, you demonstrate a capacity for sequencing as well as reflection which allows for some "inner dialogue."

All in all, you are likely to be quite content with yourself and your style although at times it will not necessarily be appreciated by others. You have sufficient confidence to not second-guess yourself, but rather to use your critical faculties in a way that enhances, rather than limits, your creativity.

You can learn in either mode although far more efficiently within the visual mode. It is likely that in listening to conversations or lecture materials you simultaneously translate into pictures which enhance and elaborate on the meaning.

It is most likely that you will gravitate towards those endeavors which are predominantly visual but include some logic or structuring. You may either work particularly hard at cultivating your auditory skills or risk "missing out" on being able to efficiently process what you learn. Your own intuitive skills will at times interfere with your capacity to listen to others, which is something else you may need to take into account.

It's nice to be Appreciated.

I stumbled upon a diary on the ground.
It's pages were open to the world.
Words poured out of them dreamy-like and surreal.
To the ears they were sweet as honey.

Years later I drove along an Aussie road.
With the gleaming stars all to my own.
But In the loneliness of the Aussie road,
I will remember the words that were sweeter than honey.

It's a fine thing to have the occasional encouraging word for the guy who has it tough most of the time.

'To be in love'

Should I be worried?

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Eigth Level of Hell - the Malebolge!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Very Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Low
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante's" Inferno Hell Test

Woah woah woah who's this guy he's encroaching on my mojo...















Hmph. What a poser. I don't like his face. Ugly.

No, I'm Not feeling fine

:_(

.sniff

The Poor Boy

Some guy killed himself today.
You'd think the reason was that he had a drug problem, or his girlfriend left him, or his goldfish died. Or something.
But nooooo...

His tool was too small.

His tool was too small.(repeated to emphasise point)

He was told by his doctor, and his parents, and his girlfriend, that he was A-OK. But he did'nt listen.

I think I could have saved him with a few words of wisdom. To prevent anymore suicides due to an extremely small, ahem, self-esteem, I will share it with the world. Be prepared now, to be blown away.

Quotable quote:
"'Tis not the size of the wand that counts. Nay, for it doth mean nothing. 'Tis the magic thats held within that carries the great bearing instead."

Namaste. Carpe diem.

Me and my Chum...ps

Today the chapel speaker mentioned the phrase carpe diem. He said that it was'nt a good thing. Did'nt explain why. I dunno why, but alot of religous speakers(from different beliefs) say things without explaining them completely. Guess its up to one whether to believe or not.


I despise the type of friendship that exists in the real world today. Everywhere I go, I see the camaraderie that would drive people to sacrifice for one another, but on the silver screen. Take for example the trio of companions in Harry Potter. Then there's the Fellowship of the Ring, and the hilarious animals of Ice Age. The type where friends would go through thick and thin for each other are those who I yearn for.

Unfortunately, I have'nt found them yet, or they simply dont exist in this world. Maybe its human nature to backstab when the opportunity arises. Maybe its burned into our genes to think of ourselves first, all in the name of survival. Heh.

These days, friendship is all about dirty jokes and meaningless insults thrown at each other. There's never the kind encouragement that would come from a happy and platonic one. You never see a guy giving his friend a pat on his back for a job well done. It's always, 'Oh, but you screwed up here. You screwed up there too.' You also never hear a person consoling a crying buddy, who's just missed the passing grade by a mark. Instead there is laughing and cutting remarks. A lot of jokes have another person, with feelings, at the butt of it. I have been the object of some not-so-nice words before, and it's especially painful when it comes from a person you've known since you learned to talk.

But I still have a life ahead of me, maybe I will yet find a comrade who will help me through the sufferings of life. Carpe diem I guess.

The Geniuses of the World Today...

I chuckled upon reading the quotes taken by Life! newspaper today. Here they are

The first one, taken from Jessica Simpson, says,

'Every man should know that I am not another notch in the belt, that's for sure.'

Sure, sure. If the opposite of what she said was true, there would be one more notch on the belt of many, many people.

The second one was said by movie director T. Rajeevnath, on wanting to cast Paris Hilton in a film as a certain influential figure in world history.

'Her features resemble Mother Teresa'

Tee hee. Paris Hilton as Mother Teresa. Big mistake sir. She probably will manage to make Mother Teresa look slutty somehow. Imagine the famous missionary wearing nothing but last week's hanky which you blew your nose on. God must'nt be happy at this. Stay tuned for news of movie director T. Rajeevnath getting struck by lightning one day.



Compare this...











With this...
















Yeah I know, they do look alike a bit eh?

I Feel Good

I helped someone today.

Gave him advice that he really appreciated. It made both our days.

I know that once this euphoria of doing something good for a change is gonna end sometime, and then im gonna realise that my deadline for the 700-word essay is tomorrow.

Note to self - All this literary cheemology will either help me grab, or deter, the chicks. Gotta find out which one.

Love at First Sight, or all the Other Things People Call it

I said maybe,
You're gonna be the one that saves me.
And after all,
You're my wonderwall.

It's like someone punctured your stomach, and the acid is running through your veins, but oddly enough, it's kinda pleasurable. Exhilirating yet excruciating, the crush is.

They say that the first cut is the deepest. I believe that is because the first kiss is the most tender(no need to freak out daddy thats just a figure of speech, I didnt really kiss anyone).

It is hard to explain. You feel a strange burning sensation as the hormones kick into overdrive just as she walks round the corner. Sometimes it's so bad that nausea fills your already muddled brains. Unfortunately, that is'nt a good thing. You can't think normally. She smiles at you and your knees feel like the fondue you ate at Max Brenner's last night. 'Hi!' she chirps. It sounds like heaven to you.

You smile dumbly. You'd be happy just to stand there and listen to her voice. Without realising it, a sound, a whole octave lower than your usual register, escapes your mouth. 'Hullo,' you grunt. You wince inside.

Ten minutes later, the whole episode runs through your mind. You start to critisize everything you did and said. Dang, why did'nt I say that cool thing there. I could have told her that joke. Too bad, bubba, you managed to grunt was an intellectual 'hullo', which must have sounded like neanderthal fart at the time.

I digress. Just experience it for yourself. It's like drugs when you experience it, you feel so high your hair touches the floor of heaven. It's also like drugs after it's passed, your stomach threatens to empty that big mac onto your shoes, among other, more putrid things. I just realised that I've digressed again.

Oh my god, I've gone so far off my original intended topic imma have to make another post later.

She is electric.
Can I be electric too?

Gotta take some time to think of my next post, it's gonna be deep, this one.

Deep in it Today, Literally and Metaphorically

I read in the blog of a friend of mine, on how he yearned for his younger days when he was carefree and happy. This was the iron that burned into my memory of something that happened earlier today.

It was raining cats and dogs today. One of my better friends and I got off at Kembangan station. His mom could'nt pick us up so we had to suffer some of the rain. The bus we usually waited for was late, so we decided to hail a cab. As we moved to the other end of the station where the taxi stand was, he noticed that the bus had arrived. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the road, 50 metres away. 'Oh shit.'

We sprinted across the road in the pouring rain, and nearly got killed on both sides by passing traffic :P. By the way, the sky juice was so heavy that you could barely see the HDB flats across the street. Slipped once on the way, but we managed to get on the bus. In the short few seconds spent in the rain, we were soaking wet. Anyway, we headed for the back seat, shivering and roaringly happy.

Ironically it's the young people who want to grow up as quick as they can, while the oldies want to go back to their childhood.

Me, I'm gonna take my time to smell the roses along the way.

Taking the Plunge

I dunno why the hell I'm so worried about this. Guess I'm just wierd that way.

I feel like I'm about to go on a long journey, with many perils, and monsters which will try to eat my brains. It must be because I'm doing this for a girl whom I like(I think).

I'm gonna sign up for friendster.

Pray for me, my friends.

I Awaken... To Foggy Darkness

Four seasons in seconds flicker and flash,
Im alone.
A lonely screen provides the scene,
its no home.
Every night I hear you scream,
But you dont say what you mean.
This was my dream,
but now my dream has flown.

Im at the crossroads,
waiting for a sign.
My life is standing still,
but Im still alive.
Every night I think I know,
In the morning where did it go?
The answers disappear,
when I open my eyes.

Carpe Diem!

I just learnt a new word. It just seems so meaningful to me that I *have* to post it.

car·pe di·em

Used as an admonition to seize the pleasures of the moment without concern for the future.

I think I'll live by this from now on... hope I dont go to jail or something.

Yet Another Rant

Its been a sort of emotional rollercoaster this week, well as much as a stoned 14-year old can experience anyway.

First day of school spent snoring in class, talking with friends. High point - spending a hilarious 5 minutes on the library computer...learning swear words in foreign languages. I'll spare the details.

Second day! Wheeee! Got my scholarship! Earned about 18 thousand bucks in a couple of minutes... aand it's stuck in the bank. Dang.

Third day was a rush. Blazed through art homework... 5 minutes before art. Considered joining the dance club. I think I inhaled too much exhaust in the morning.

Came back to my senses on Thursday. Must've been outta my mind(happens a lot). Well dance is for Year 5 only anyways... I'll consider joining when I'm there. Instead im now deciding whether to take part in OM. I definitely need to do something, or I'll fail CAS(L). Bleh.

It's Friday... the day where I should be most happy, but I've just remembered that I'll be taking part in the track and field meet. Now running's all fine and dandy, I can cover the 3000m easily, but its the high jump thats giving me the butterflies. What was my house manager thinking? I've never done a high jump in my life!

Heh I'm just waiting for the cursed meet to be over so I can get some rest. But I know that just as that is done, I'll get another nerve-wracking assignment to kill myself over.

Life sucks that way I guess. Never lets up.

Faint

When this began,
I had nothing to say.
And I'd get lost in the nothingness inside of me.
I was confused.
And I let it all out to find,
That I'm not the only person with these things in mind.
Inside of me.
But in all the vacancy the words revealed,
Is the only real thing that I've got left to feel.
Nothing to lose.
Just stuck,
Hollow and alone.
And the fault is my own.
And the fault is my own.

I want to heal,
I want to feel,
What I thought was never real.
I want to let go of the pain I've held so long.
I want to heal,
I want to feel,
Like I'm close to something real.
I want to find something I've wanted all along,
Somewhere I Belong.

And I've got nothing to say.
I can't believe I didn't fall right down on my face.
I was confused.
Looking everywhere,
Only to find that it's not the way I had imagined it all in my mind.
What do I have but negativity,
Cause I can't justify the way everyone is looking at me.
Nothing to lose.
Hollow and alone.
And the fault is my own.
The fault is my own.

Too lightheaded after the first day of school to actually write anything. It's Staggering how they treat you at ACS(I).

I'm a Good Person! Serious!

Took the 'Which evil dude are you' personality test. These things are addictive.


What Type of Villain are You?
mutedfaith.com.

Preeety accurate, I must say. But now I must kill these people because they know too much about me...

I should call Child Aid for this...

My god I got an unearthly amount of homework for the holidays. It's bordering on child abuse.

Imagine the last day of school, the whole class is all woohoo and no one's paying any attention to the teacher scribble and blah. Just as yet another paper aeroplane flies across the cramped, oppresively stifling room, a hellish word meets our ears. Everyone perks up and screams inwardly as they see the wicked grin on the teacher's ugly face.

"Holiday homework!!!" he manages to cry, with a bright smile that you would easily mistake for that of a toddler receiving candy, if you didnt know the entire situation and you were deaf. He, with a feat of strength that rivals that of a mother lifting a tree of her child, somehow extracts a titanic pile of papers from his trolley. A collective "fuck" can be heard from the class, as if it came from the very walls themselves, echoing the laments of students of years past...

Take It easy, take it easy.
Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy.
Lighten up while you still can,
Don't even try to understand.
Just find a place to make your stand and,
Take it easy.

Yet another song thats well beyond my age.