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.