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.