Chained Wings

The tragedy of the human world around me

2012-03-06T05:10:00.001+08:00

It depresses me to no end of the state of the human condition.

That I can find myself amidst debate (if I even dare call it that) between a guy too selfish to care and a guy too jaded to try, that such a argument even occurs over the most trivial of subject matters. That I can hear people admit the flaw of the human state and not even attempt to do anything about it. When was humankind so defeatist?

I see a friend defending an acquaintance of his against the majority and I see him turned into a martyr for it. I see him being burned at the stakes unnecessarily for trying "to be a saint" and I see that his attempt to defend his acquaintance soon deteriorates from a valiant attempt into a slur and barrage of ad hominems. It's tragic because I see my friend sinking to the level of those he was intending to strike, and I see them pointing out the hypocrisy, the irony, and making fun of him for it.

It just screams "We won; we dragged you down to our level. There is no moral high ground now - there never was, and there never will be."

I talk to a friend of mine while sitting by the roadside - he tells me that he's tired of it all. He can't keep up the goodwill anymore, he can't salvage the tear in the relationships anymore. I feel like telling him to just carry on the good fight, but I hear the parties he tries to save admit their own lack of care for other people's motivations for their actions. I wonder why he ever bothered trying to save such relationships. I wonder whether it was doomed to fail from the beginning. I wonder whether it was worth it at all.

Maybe it isn't.

I recall a drink over a small table in a jazz bar; my drinking partner commented to me that she felt no one was born evil or innately evil. That everyone was innately good and just expressed themselves wrongly, resulting in ill will instead of goodwill. I now question that thought more than three years on. Maybe people just aren't programmed to be good. Because to be nice, understanding, and reacting in the best possible way one sees fit after considering everyone's point of view is impossible for certain people - it runs counter to their very character and the idea of goodwill cannot even enter their mind without sickening their very core. They cannot be good; they can merely pretend to be good until the farce sickens them and they can no longer resist the joy of being a fucker.

It's sad that I can find people whom I am absolutely cool with in real life and get to talk cock with argue like barbarians over the internet. I find it sad that I can see a friend say "I want to stop this stupidity" and degrade himself into joining the masses in half an hour. And the worst part about this is that I can see two groups of people I enjoy the company of burn each other over the most trivial non-reasons. I cannot understand how one side can ever think of such an argument in a "I won / You lost" scenario when all along it was a "You lose, I lose" scenario to me. Honestly? You think you can win such a mudslinging argument? You can say that with a clear conscious?

It's even more depressing that I can hear people comment that such arguments are a good form of entertainment, popcorn-worthy shows. I hear the sensible people say that they would've deleted the arguments; eliminated any scent of bad will off the face of the earth. I hear the popcorn audience plea for the war to be over before the evidence is erased. I cannot even bear to point out the logical flaw and contradiction in erasing the evidence when the war was already over - wasn't the point of deleting the arguments to prevent it from breaking out in the first place?

I hate it all because it's just so tragic to witness. People are jerks. People are bastards. People are fuckers. I've come to that conclusion long ago, and I know I'm not the only one.

It's just that I invest faith in humans - faith in them that they aren't the absolute human scum that I occasionally think they are at times. It's not an investment with good rates of return, but it's a worthwhile investment and the ROI is but a secondary matter. But that faith that I invest - it bankrupts on me as if my faith was a monetary commodity worth stealing. That there are moral bankers out there robbing me of all my faith while they snicker to themselves along Wall Street, wondering what to do with all the faith in their hands. Faith I had in humanity, now in the hands of scum who sully its value with their incredulity.

Perhaps faith was worthless all along. Not just monetarily, but morally, even ethically, worthless in every aspect. Perhaps having faith in people wouldn't give you any more faith to have in others - it just gave you disillusionment in the face of vanity, pride and stubbornness. You couldn't fight the three. Stubbornness never gave up, vanity never knew when she lost and pride never acknowledged that it was your victory. Faith had nowhere to belong in the amoral.

And it appears, neither do I. Not in the grand scheme of failure that is the human condition.

Seasons we Serve

2011-01-23T00:58:00.001+08:00

963600 minutes
963000 moments so dear
963600 minutes
How do you measure, measure two years

In book-ins, in bookouts
In nights-outs, in cookhouse surveys
In meters, in clicks, in turnouts at night
In 963600 minutes
How do you measure, two years of your life?

Why must we, serve?
Why must we, serve?
Why must we, serve?
Why must we serve…

Lan lan must serve~
Lan lan must serve~

963600 minutes
963000 moments so sian
963600 minutes
How do you measure the life of commanders or of men?

In extras he signed
Or in shellscrapes he slept
In weekends confined
Or the times that he wept

Its time now to book out
Though the fucking never ends
Till we ORD
Remember that we’re just an NSF!

I don’t want to serve~
(Oh I don’t want, I don’t want I don’t want to serve~)
Don’t want to serve~
(You know that two years we all must serve~)
Don’t want to serve~
(Can serve, must serve, lan lan must serve~)
Don’t wanna serve~
(Measure, measure the time you served)

Seasons we served~
Seasons we served~
(Measure the life, measure the life you served)

---------------------------

If you're PES C it's 1051200 minutes btw

Rainbows in Airdrops

2010-07-09T23:52:00.003+08:00

Sometimes, in tough and tiring times, all you need is a reminder from God that all is fine.

It's not the face that launched a thousand ships, and I don't know how our armies compare with others, but stopping commandos (albeit female ones), an NDU sergeant, and a bunch of us riggers while derigging our CDS to just stare up has to have some power in itself. It's the same feeling that Noah got when he finally reached ashore - that all is still good in the world and things are as they should be.

Jason pointed at one end of it and said there's a pot of gold there. Maybe someone airdropped it there.

soap bar FML

2010-05-02T17:07:00.002+08:00

I went to Beach Road to get a soap box because my field pack inspection needed one and no one I knew in close vicinity had one to spare FML

Thoughts on ACR

2010-04-20T20:30:00.002+08:00

G Camp seems like a pretty nice place to be, sans the distance from camp to bunk. The bugger comes more from the complete lack of any combat pay (though I suppose I can't deny the perks that come with a lack of combat pay) but hopefully overseas missions (well, one in particular) can make up for it decently.

At this point I guess this should serve well for any future Riggers who look online (coz all of us did thinking wtf the course was and trying to get info on it)

TO ALL FUTURE AERIAL CARGO RIGGERS: THIS IS A STAY-IN CAMP. SUCK THUMB KTHX.

Hopefully this blogpost ends up useful to some aerial cargo rigger in the future wondering wtf the camp is about. At least he won't be wtf about one thing at least. >_>

Hopefully S Camp is better. >_>

POP

2010-04-08T21:42:00.000+08:00

And it's motherfucking POP at last

and I would write something meaningful like all the shit I learnt and felt and thought while in BMT

but I'm too fucking tired after walking 24 clicks in the dark

so fuck that

Snippets of Army - Night Firing

2010-03-06T11:44:00.003+08:00

The stars are bloody beautiful when you lie down on the grass and look up. You could care less about the gunpowder in the air, the loud bangs that blast against your ears for a while until you adjust to it, the shockwaves on the ground that shake your body that slight bit, and the motherfucking huge black bar in the middle of the sky that blocks out a huge chunk right smack in the middle.

There's also the fact that you're bloody wearing a long 4 as usual with helmet and LBV, but fuck that. The weather's cool and you don't really care

"Detail 5 fall out Detail 6 take up proning position Detail 7 assist"

oh fuck my turn as assistant torchlight out oh fuck hurry up hurry up shineshineshine oh fuck my turn as shooter fuckgetoutmymagazinesandpronefuckkneelingpositionfuckneedtoloadfuckneedtostandup
NOINEEDTOSQUATDOWNTOLOADFIRSTfuckLEDnotstablefuckitsthetestneedtopronefuck
ohmygodwhatjusthappenedFALLOUTRUNBACKQUICKLYPICKUPMAGAZINESLETSGO

...well at least I didn't have to go fuckIAIAIAIAIAIAIAIA.

Snippets of Army

2010-02-27T23:09:00.003+08:00

"With this, I will defend my country!" I shouted. I realized inside what that meant.

What I didn't realize was that there would be a fucking 5-tonner in the way when I needed to draw the damn rifle from the armskote.

Receiving Rifle

2010-02-21T15:43:00.003+08:00

God bless he who made the skies, the stars, the predawn hours of night and created me to see the wonder of the stars and the world in such a beautiful manner.

And God fuck whoever made me have to appreciate all that while holding a rifle in my right hand and put me in a long 4 while he was at it

2010-02-16T16:34:00.000+08:00

BOOK IN FML

life sucks

Me and Religion

2010-01-31T10:59:00.002+08:00

I sometimes wonder how it turns out like this.

Did it start with a random day in the underground basement before choir practise over ten years ago, when my brother came up with a nickname for me? I came up with a nickname for him on that very day too. His stuck for an hour. Mine stuck for over twelve years. I recall just last year in a lunch with my classmates from sunday school that some couldn't remember my name and only remembered my nickname. It's kind of expected when you think about it, I guess - I've almost never been called by name by most of my peers in my entire life in the church. The exception would be the 3 guys older than me in choir (the 3 who stuck around the longest) - of which none remain in the choir, and only one remains in the same church. Oh, and it's not the session I attend either.

Did it gradually start from the various lessons during Sunday school? Fingers pointed. I usually ended up answering majority of the questions, or end up seeing an awkward silence every week. It gets ridiculous. I kind of turn into a teacher's pet. I hate it. Some ask me stuff after Sunday school. Some tell me I should try leading in worship or whatnot. I couldn't have possibly wanted to be further from that idea. "You have the leadership capabilities" they said. It's a sentence I'm familiar with, even outside of church, but I've never entirely believed in it.

Did it gradually start from my interest in philosophy and Nietzsche between primary and secondary school? Maybe - it does fit chronologically. But I don't entirely think this is the case - it probably sped up the process a bit, but I doubt it could have been a cause. Xenosaga Ep.I will still be amongst the most awesome JRPGs to come out for the PS2 though.

What I do know is that I've been feeling this way since Sec1 and have since been slowly moving into this state.

I realized sometime this year that the act of leaving the faith is probably one founded on emotional rather than logical foundations. To say that you can leave the faith because you started questioning it and couldn't get satisfactory answers is unlikely for anyone unless you never had a bond with the religion in the first place. And that's precisely the state many of us are in, so it's no longer just about questioning and the like - it's perfectly normal in Christianity. In fact, people who doesn't question their faith in the least bit are the exception rather than the rule.

At the same time, staying in the faith despite all that is also a decision founded on emotional rather than logical foundations, I feel. It's what's keeping me from doing something that I should've done long ago. Social inertia. Fear. Emotional pain. The way your decisions affect the livelihoods of others in that smallest way. The little things that tie you to a place, a concept, a person or object.

It's turned me into what I was for a good six years. Schoolmates eventually just thought that religion was an O.B. topic for me. But really, it was because I couldn't give a good answer myself. Of course, there were idiots who think that TOK lessons talking about inconsistencies in the Bible would lead me to question my faith. Some people don't get it at times, I guess.

And I think that after six years, I'm almost capable of severing ties. It's probably the most painful thing to learn; its necessity so very questionable. But there's still one last person at the end of it all and I still haven't figured out how the hell I'm going to get around this.

Sigh.

Random story

2010-01-27T01:01:00.003+08:00

The kid in front of me smiled. Innocent, wide eyes that gleam just that little bit. Frizzly, amber hair that seems just a tad roughened up. A speck of mud on the right cheek from a tackle during soccer. And the wide smile that trumps it all.

How the fuck did he turn into me?

Of course, even though I can't help but ask myself at times, that's all rhetoric. I know my past too well. Everything that happened. The stupid bullets my genius Dad designed that supposedly awaken the potential within a person. The stigma. The raid. Imbeciles and harbingers of doom, the crowds screamed, milling outside the house. The ringing gunshot, how slowly the bullet flowed in the air in and out of Dad's cranium, twice through Mom's, through my sis and bro's. The fear in the gunman's eyes after the bullet grazed through my hair, and the next shot was a click. How he fumbles around and looks desperately for another bullet. Anything.

He sees it. Next thing I'm unconscious. I wake up to a bloodied mess - the gunman's limbs scattered around the room. Mom's head away from the rest of the body, Dad's guts straddled across the wooden floor, my sis and bro beyond recognition. There's blood on my hands and a hole through my head. Somewhere near the left there's a crushed bullet that looks like the one Dad was working on. Damn you, Dad.

I know that in every universe, somewhere around this time I go mad. It's one of the few constants of my life. Every other timeline of my life deviates far from each other from this point on. I know because I've been to every single one of them. In each universe I went to my powers were different.

One of me ended up with superhuman capabilities and went on a crusade- a universal genocide that would wipe majority of the human race in just under a decade. Another learnt teleportation and went about a similar journey of meting justice to the rest of the world. A third could create more of himself by thinking about it - created an entire empire overnight and began to conquer from there.

All deranged beings, all out to kill the world. The path taken is immensely different, but the general path stays similar: going mad, killing everyone, and in the depths of solitary eternity regaining sanity. And the end of each path stays the same: Suicide.

I'm the only one that's different. I gained the most mysterious power of the lot: The power to travel to any point of time in any universe. I've witnessed the death of countless mes. I've killed the entire world overnight and murdered everyone on Earth simultaneously. You could say I was the perfect one amongst them all.

For that same reason I've been stuck in eternity that slight bit longer than every other Me, and got a bit more time to think about stuff. I believe in a God. I believe in salvation for people who live good lives and a tenth layer of hell dedicated to me alone. It's queer, but it's probably the first thing I think about every time I regain sanity. I think about how to get this salvation. Almost every other me gives up and commits suicide, resigned to this fate. Of course they would - they can't change the mistakes they made. Only I can.

I think about killing the gunman before he manages to kill anyone in my family, then perish the thought. Another me tried that - he could go back in time within his own universe. He killed the gunman two days before. Someone else filled his place. Went back and killed him too. Another. Killed. Another. Killed. Another. He killed the next gunman just before he took Dad's bullet and shot it through the kid's head. The kid went mad and took the gun and shot himself in the head. Same shit, different way. Ended up suiciding too.

But there's one thing I thought about that he didn't. I thought about killing myself. And that's where I am now - 5 years before any incident occurred.

The kid's smiling. It's the kind of smile that gets to me and gets me thinking about how the fuck this kid here could end up killing the world. It's a ridiculous thought. An equally ridiculous thought is that if I killed him I could save the human race in every alternate universe out there. I know it will - my early years deviated so little that the pathways never strayed from this single path of life. Every future starts from here, and every future where the world dies dies with this child here.

Maybe this alone could bring salvation to every single me out there; letting them rest in peace rather than forcing them to kill themselves in such a terrible fashion.

"Kid, if I told you that you were capable of saving the world right now, would you?" his toothy grin shines that little bit brighter. He'll never know that I asked the same question to his father an hour ago and shot him through the head.

"Sure I would! Don't you wanna save the world too, mister?" It's all I need. We think alike. 'course we would.

"Of course I do." Bang. Bang.

The blood flows slowly down the pavement. The two of us probably look angelic to everyone around.

---------------------------------------------------------

What a random story lol I just needed to get that out of my head

A sad state of Affairs

2010-01-22T21:01:00.002+08:00

I find myself stuck in an extremely buggersome situation.

It's an idiotic situation with a seemingly obvious answer but never really is.

Some identities need to be shed for the sake of progressing in life. But well, maybe I'll keep this old one on a slight bit longer. Maybe miracles will happen. Maybe not.

Surreality

2010-01-21T15:49:00.003+08:00

I sit on the recliner reading a book I borrowed a while back about how America's slowly losing the game of maintaining the moral high ground in a post-9/11 era when suddenly a rather loud blaring of Josh Groban's You Raise Me Up plays outside the left window. It's probably Ngee Ann Poly having some random fair, I think, as I move to look out the window.

I hear none of the cheers that followed a similar performance at a fair the polytechnic had a few weeks back of Jason Mraz's I'm Yours. Instead I look at the road beside the HDB blocks in front of the polytechnic and see two vans, a bunch of people - mostly Malays - and a few black-suited men. On the front of the frontmost van is a greyscale photograph of a rather old man, frame adorned by red and white flowers. The people are too far for me to clearly make out the emotions hanging on each of their faces. Some look forlorn to me. The black-suited men around the front van look solemn. The entire scene is silent save for Josh Groban.

The clouds are overcast and the rain begins to set in. It's a silent rain - the solemn kind you don't usually notice if you're looking elsewhere. From the third storey looking down you can see the stone pavement slowly turn a darker shade, drop by drop by drop. To an spectator, it almost feels like teardrops.

It doesn't seem the same for the people following the van, though I can only speculate as to their thoughts and feelings. One of the black-suited men directs the people onto a bus parked on the left (which I noticed only then) and opens up an umbrella for them. Another gets into the driver's seat of the front van, and the last one hurriedly picks up the photo from the front of the van and puts it just behind the windscreen - even the dead need shelter from nature. The frame remained at the front of the van, and a few flowers drop off from the top-right corner of the frame onto the roadside. No one seems to be concerned about the aesthetics of the frame at this point.

The road seems entirely empty now, save for the two vans, the bus and a black Mercedes following behind; probably the family. Josh Groban's still singing while the rain slowly gets stronger. The 3 vehicles slowly begin to move off. As the front van turns the corner, I see the casket. It's a beautiful one, though I cannot help but find it an inappropriate term to describe it. The wood is a deep auburn; newly lacquered with a subtle sheen to it. In the center lies a small golden cross, a lucid shine on a solemn surface.

Josh Groban sings at his loudest just before the van fully turns the corner and drives past the wall and my line of sight. The second van follows quickly, and the bus and Mercedes trail behind a slight bit. The windows are slightly darkened on the Mercedes and I can only see a faint silhouette of the family inside as it drives by - a silhouette as deep a black as the car, and perhaps themselves.

Silence comes almost immediately. The rain begins to lighten up the moment the cars disappear; an amazingly surreal transition. The sound of construction works starts again in the distance, along with what sounds like grass-cutting. Not a single person was left. Nothing of the twenty-over people that were just there moments ago. The only remains are a slightly wet pavement that's beginning to dry up and six flowers in the middle of the road - three red and three white.

After a while I look out the window again. There's a woman slowly walking from Ngee Ann Poly over, walking on the road. It's a perfectly normal day. She'd probably find it rather strange that there were six flowers lying on the road randomly, if she even noticed them in the first place. She never does - it doesn't ever cross her mind, even subconsciously, to look at the road on her right for any reason whatsoever.

It's probably a normal day to her - cool weather with a slight drizzle that conveniently cleared up the moment she left the polytechnic, little people along this path, a mostly empty carpark, and the faint sounds of construction works in the distance.

A few years down from the past

2010-01-18T09:33:00.002+08:00

I find that now, a few years down the road, I've slowly begun to lose my touch on writing and thought.

I can't tell when this happened to me. 2009? 2008? 2007? If I had to say, it would probably be 2009 or mid 2008. It's surprising really - the number of blogposts titled 'Conversations' or 'Tales' just dwindled down to nearly zero this year. But there is something I know.

People write stories for a reason - either intentional or unintentional, like inspiration. I've had my share of both, as I'm sure most writers would, but of the recent year I've had nothing suddenly come to my head that I could write a whole story on, nor have I had any compelling message to push to others that I would write a whole story.

At this point I cannot exactly tell what it was I sacrificed my writing and thought in order to gain. Responsibility? Academic 'success'?

Sigh. It's rather difficult to believe that you were smarter in the past but somehow that's happening to me. AND just before NS. This can't be good.

IB Results

2010-01-07T02:42:00.002+08:00

So hilarious. It reminds me almost entirely of the past, except that this time the results mattered a lot more. And this time maybe there'll be one or two others who get how this feels. Not. Who am I kidding?

See, the Elite Squad works on a different level from the rest. Layman statistics don't apply to them - they're not the 'normal' that a statistician speaks of. There's a need to completely regather data when you want to find out about them. And if you're part of this group you can't rely on the statistics of the layman to decide your strength - the weakest would probably be slightly below average here.

This isn't a situation where one can stare at the rest of the masses and go "Hey, what about them? I'm better than him, him, him, him, and the rest of them!" because it just doesn't work. Did Newton go about saying that he was better than all the people who weren't standing on the shoulders of giants? Never - it's evident enough that he's far more far-sighted than the rest already, and comparing yourself with them would bring yourself down to their level. What would gravity have to say about that?

I was of a class where the class mean was higher than the level mode, which was higher than the level mean. The class mode was one from a perfect score. Layman statistics just fail when it comes to these people.Forcing the square peg into the round hole would give two conclusions: Three people are below average in a class of twenty-nine. The mean student would be better than 74.5% of the school population. Two ridiculous conclusions by a long shot, and reflective of the failure of standard statistical figures being applied to non-standard groups.

What am I, then? The normal within the abnormal. The average within the extremities. The standard solider within the elite squad.

It is... dreadfully painful to have to be seen as abnormal by the normal and normal by the abnormal. Because that makes you a person belonging to neither group, with a certain sense of loneliness to the normality of the situation.

2010

2010-01-02T00:15:00.003+08:00

2010 is finally upon us. It's queer that I write this at so long after 1st Jan 2010 rather than 1st Jan 2010, but oh well.

I spent the countdown into Christmas and into the New Year lying in the balcony of my relative's house staring at the sky.

3.
2.
1.
2010.

The sky doesn't look any different.

----------------------------------------------------------

It's quite queer, but this year and the year before have both begun with wedding celebrations. It almost feels like parallels could be drawn between the beginning of two years that could not be any more different.

I guess seeing the first one puts the second one in perspective though. That perhaps the happiest couple in the world might not be the happiest after all.

----------------------------------------------------------

So my cousin got 42 points for IB despite taking Latin B SL and Music HL. I consider that some insane achievement in itself but damn lol. Now must get 43+ liao gg noooooooooooooooooo

Oh well I'm too lazy to worry about such stuff. FF13 and P3:FES beckons while the rest of the folk around me stress themselves to death over IB. Queer.

Christmas

2009-12-25T02:40:00.002+08:00

Christmas celebrations are finally over for me.

It's been a rather busy week, with shopping, arcading, and visiting here and there, hence the lack of blogging. It's turning into a bad habit, but perhaps an inevitable one.

Earlier on, around the 20th, I was thinking that the return of my cousins to Singapore was something extremely important and my complete ambivalence towards it was terribly inappropriate. Today I realize thankfully that it is not a bad thing - ambivalence at times comes as a result of being used to a situation, as opposed to a state of I-could-care-less-if-it-doesn't-occur.

Christmas this year, however, ends up a time of transition for me: in religion, in life, in friends, in self. After Christmas celebrations, though, I now need to add another one to the list: in bartending. Apparently it is a role I play a bit too well, enough such that an uncle actually said that it would be ok if I skipped university and decided to be a full-time bartender. My thoughts on this in the future, perhaps. It is annoying enough to have to think of another set of drinks for the new year.

I spend the minutes into Christmas staring at the stars in the sky, listening to slow almost-melancholic instrumentals with my cousin. It feels almost like yesterday that she and I lied down on the grass and just talked about life, love, the future and the past. Two years collapse almost simultaneously for that short moment. I am extremely grateful for a cousin like that, for they come rarer than rubies. Perhaps I could say that I am truly close with no one else, but that's a rash statement and I'd not jump there just yet.

At this time my mind drifts back to the past, to her, to the lessons I've learnt and managed to carve out almost melodically in an analogy still silent to others. A time of life that I have already reconciled with; a past I have come to terms with and a self I have come to accept as truly 'me' without any regret.

The rest of this day I shall spend with friends; some new, some old, all precious. Not rarer than rubies, admittedly, but very much as valuable.

Resident Tourists

2009-12-15T01:06:00.004+08:00

A smaller number of friends would know that I am quite a fan of drearyweary and their completed webcomic series, especially The Resident Tourist. I should spend a short bit of time talking about them.

The background's apparent enough if you look at their Stories page, but what I really found interesting was that it reflects a quickly developing identity that Singaporeans bear, yet is rarely reflected in Singaporean culture precisely because it is rarely found in Singaporean culture. Mr. Kiasu, Chew On It and the old Student Sketchpad (queer I should call it old since it's the most recent) reflect the more common identities of Singaporeans - the Kiasu/Kiasi/etc, the rather local traditional family, and the muggers of the Singaporean Education System.

The Resident Tourist, instead, deals with the ever-increasing Singaporean diaspora. An identity rarely explored in Singaporean comics because of a more serious treatment required when dealing with this, and also because it is technically less prevalent within Singapore itself (I mean, they would rarely be in Singapore, would they ._.)

And it's interesting because it's something rarely explored in a graphical medium, perhaps something just rarely explored at all. Interesting because it's highly personal yet very close to the hearts of readers outside of Singapore. There's a form of connectedness here that one appreciates.

I think speaking too much on this ends up making this feel very much like a literary review when it shouldn't be - I find that somewhat of a disgrace to works that were made to be appreciated rather than analyzed. But please, do read it. It is honestly a beautiful series.

Trust and Knowledge

2009-12-07T00:29:00.003+08:00

An acquaintance commented to me once that there was some kind of trust lacking between another friend and I. She and I seemed to take an entirely different stance to this idea of trust.

The acquaintance said that trust was the idea of sharing, just sharing between two parties and belief in the other party to accept and take in whatever you say. I end up on the opposite spectrum compared to her in that I never talk about myself to others without absolute necessity. Along her line of logic, I would conclude that I trust people purely out of complete necessity and that I pretty much don't trust anyone at all.

I wonder something at this point. Does trust necessitate knowledge of a person? I would prefer a division between the two.

The overused statement "Why can't you tell me this? Don't you trust me?" serves as a very telling sign of the seemingly strong link between trust and knowledge of another person - the lack of one suggests the lack of the other. After all, talking to someone about issues personal to yourself is generally a strong sign of trust in the other - to view it objectively, you just gave information which can be used to blackmail yourself in the future, or used to betray and play on your emotions. That you give another the chance to do so has the implicit meaning that you believe he or she would not do this.

Going the other way round, if you don't share anything personal about yourself to others, it gives the impression that you're walling yourself from others and dare not entertain the thought of emotional betrayal. You do not trust the other party, simply put. It's a simple and clear link between the two. Surely, therefore, someone like me who shares so little with others could not possibly trust any of his friends!

Yet, by this exact same line of logic, you trust the people who stalk your facebook account. You trust the strangers who read your blog. You trust the readers of your articles.

You cannot say it is an involuntary giving of information - it is public domain and you should be perfectly aware of that (in fact, it's usually one of the more important reasons as to why you start a blog or write an article) You cannot say that it is an unintended audience - they are on your friendslist on facebook, and they are part of your readership on a blog or a newspaper. And obviously you would not say that you trust every man who stalks your facebook account, reads your blog and your articles. Therefore, knowledge isn't exactly a sufficient condition for trust.

Furthermore, the first definition of 'trust' on google (ultimate pandering to authority meh) goes as such: "have confidence or faith in", stating confidence or faith in another as a prerequisite for trust.

Why do you have confidence in someone? Because you know from previous experience that he or she will do something and do it in a particular way. This can be based off anything - past occurrences, personality, competence, but it is essentially an extrapolation of past experiences and basing that to give a particular conclusion about someone that you can trust. Knowledge is certainly important in this aspect.

Why do you have faith in someone, then? Because you do not have any logical reasoning to support your opinion that he or she will do something and do it in a particular way. The face of certainty without reasoning is one of faith, and is present in the absence of knowledge of the other party.

A simple conclusion then goes - knowledge of another person is neither a sufficient condition for trust, nor a necessary condition for trust. As commonly used a benchmark it is, it isn't the only one around.

All this said, then, begs a question: Why don't you tell other people about yourself, then? If you have reason to withold your personal life from another, is it not a sign of distrust? After all, I never did shoot down the argument that hiding stuff from another person was a sign of distrust. And indeed, that was the question asked to me in my conversation. The answer I gave was short, and perhaps needs elaboration. It was "because I didn't see the need to".

In my prior arguments I might give the impression that telling personal stuff to someone isn't a sign of trust. I don't stand by that and I do believe it is a sign of trust, but for other reasons. Talking about oneself tends to be an act of relief, a removal of a burden or an emotional cleansing. That you trust another person not to add another burden to you is the sign of trust between you and him, not the fact that you entrust him with personal worries and burdens.

It goes, then, that if I have no particular need to relieve myself of any emotional burdens I have (simply because I am not so burdened by them in the first place), there is no actual reason why I would talk to others about myself. They are - to put it rather bluntly - irrelevant to my worries, and asking them to listen to me at times adds a burden on them without actually making myself feel better at all. Rather illogical situation, wouldn't you say?

Furthermore, I do not believe that my keeping things to myself has caused others to distrust me as a result. I have good friends who say that they don't know me very much at all, and I believe with certainty that they trust me all the same. Likewise, I trust them regardless of how much they tell me about their own lives. It is a form of trust that borders more on faith than confidence, but I am perfectly fine with it. Does telling them about myself improve my relationship with them? Perhaps - they know a different side of me, they might think differently about me. But I'm still me to them; I'm not another person altogether and they won't trust me more or trust me less if I told other people about myself. It's a rather unnecessary action that I don't see any need to fulfill on my own.

I have some friends whom I share personal stuff with. I trust them.
I have friends whom I don't share personal stuff with. I trust them all the same.

And hopefully, the opposite is just as true.

MFA Talk

2009-11-27T01:29:00.002+08:00

I shan't be talking about prom because well, there's not much that needs to be said when everyone's talked about it already. Instead I'll talk about something else that same day. It begins with a long walk from Gleneagles Hospital, past the golf courses and alongside the private estates, and ends at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs building. One bugger walk just for an 'informal interview' for an internship. And really, the informal interview was more of some guys trying to talk a lot and acting like geniuses.

The first impression you get of MFA if you walk in is really a place that reeks of higher-up-ism and a sense of condescension. Walking between private estates and a golf course just to get to a place doesn't really give the 'homely and welcoming' feel, and the completely marble interior doesn't help much in this regard.

Enter the first building on the right through the glass doors and you end up in a lobby that might as well have been a hotel. Look to the right when you enter and you see two couches with students chatting. Unsurprisingly, half are Rafflesians. In fact, I'm the only non-rafflesian male there, 1 out of 4. Figures, huh? As if I didn't need to be alienated even more than this, everyone around was talking about the A-Levels. Physics MCQ was the day after, though the person who had the paper wasn't studying for it (a queer Rafflesian right there. Oh, the stereotypes!)

We moved into the meeting room where we were supposed to have the informal interview (More of a discussion, to be precise) and sat down - 4 guys on one side, 4 girls on the other. The 3 guys to my left talk about RJ stuff and class stuff (all 3 were classmates) and the girls opposite talked about exams, then scholarships, and other internship interviews (EDB mainly). Then they talked a bit about anime and scholarships in Japan (the Monbusho one, actually. How convenient to have learnt about it, and from an anime blog of all places!) About half speak a 3rd language - two French, two Jap (me included). The rest unsure. I guess MFA's a good place to find trilingual people or something.

The discussion itself ended up centred on three things: Bureaucracy, Singapore-ASEAN Relations, and Singapore-US Relations (pertaining to global warming). To some extent it was a rather boring discussion except for a few notes:

1. Everyone thinks with the mindset of a student. To someone no longer in school like me, it's amazingly obvious how rigid they try to set their frameworks of thought. "As a History student I..." "As an Econs student I..." "I'm only J1 so I haven't learnt about..." "I'm not a History nor an Econs student but I..." Man. The first thing that one of them thought about when economic integration within ASEAN was mentioned was the problems with a single currency, and cited Eurozone. It's as if there was some innate need to prove that you recall what you learnt in school or something. Pretty disturbing.

The person got shot down immediately on the single currency thing, but it felt kind of "Do I get plus points for this" and "let's make the obvious sound cheem" when the guy shot her down. It's like telling someone that heat can't flow from a cold to a hot place spontaneously because the probability of transferring heat energy from a particle that isn't vibrating much to a madinsaneparticlevibratingmadlylikethisssss is far lower than vice versa. Whether you're correct or not you should've just said that it bloody goes against the 2nd law of thermodynamics. >_>

2. They talk about bureaucracy in a very neutral (sometimes positive) manner. It jars very much against what I recalled at Syinconnect with the WTO (that's Toilet, not Trade) feller complaining about how people can be so smart and turn so stupid the moment they enter the bureaucracy. I find myself aligning more towards the latter here, but then again I suppose I'm not the kind of person to find myself in this anyway. The guy who was saying he was fine with it and wants to be the kind of person who could make changes in the bureaucracy upon entering it and know the right decisions to make on the spot reeked of arrogance and pride to me. Maybe it's to do with pedigree. I'd never know.

3. There was so much 'cooperation' and sucking up to each other amongst friends it almost felt wrong to me. Saying you learnt a lot especially from listening to your friend (while conveniently forgetting the other 6 people in the discussion) is pretty blatant in my opinion. I can't ever picture myself doing this even if I had close friends at any interview. Shit needs to get shot down, and it needs to get shot down whether the shit spewer is a friend of yours or not. Shit don't discern between friend or foe, yo.

4. There was some queer idealization and oversight going on. Talking about Singapore being so awesome and being capable of being a voice and leader on global warming in the ASEAN region so as to prove its significance in the world, yet in the same breath mentioning that Singapore shouldn't do anything about its carbon emissions since it's such a small country and doesn't contribute much to global warming, and should care about its national interests more? And after that you explicitly state that there's nothing wrong with this 'apparant' hypocrisy because other world leaders on global warming (USA and China) don't do much about their carbon emissions either? And if that wasn't bad enough, to continue talking about how 'enlightened' nations will see Singapore as a leader in promoting change in regards to global warming rather than accuse it of superficial things like, I dunno, not being an NX-1 nation due to national interests? I swear the entire thing felt like a bad attempt to suckup to the US. The convenient excuse for completely ignoring ASEAN in this entire thing? "The topic was about Singapore-US relations, and Singapore-ASEAN was just now". (Ok, to be fair he didn't say that ad verbatim.)

When the interview's over and we were making our way towards the bus stop, I hear one of the girls on the phone saying that the interview didn't go too well because "there was a guy dominating the entire discussion" and then after that mentioning that she disagreed with so much of his points but couldn't think of a way to rebutt properly. Then she talked with another girl about applying for the interview experience so you know how to do things correctly (a nice way of saying "know how to dominate the conversation when it counts"). Everything's about the portfolio to the two of them, apparently.

When I think about it, the discussion felt pretty damn bureaucratic and sickening to me. It taught me more about the mindsets of better-off students than it did about MFA and foreign policy. Well, at least I went for it, I guess.

2009-11-25T15:34:00.001+08:00

Dneo says:
!
holy shit
i got cute shota cousin with cute flabby fats <3
yeaman (Y)

XM - Lvl 9001 Couch Potato says:
what the fuck

Dneo says:
no really
it's quite nice his belly fats

XM - Lvl 9001 Couch Potato says:
I APOLOGIZE
MY FETISHES DO NOT GO THAT FAR

Dneo says:
AHAHA
okay okay back to letter writing
brb

XM - Lvl 9001 Couch Potato says:
wait
you do realize all of us are staring at this conversation right

Dneo says:
hrmm?
i know
duh

XM - Lvl 9001 Couch Potato says:
ok

Dneo says:
all 4 of you (and possibly more)
it's okay my reputation is already gone... =(

XM - Lvl 9001 Couch Potato says:
just wondering coz that was technically revealing your gaypaedo tendencies

Dneo says:
for this group of friends though
nah that one, i only like the fats, nothing much else
so not much gay or pedo
moe fats!
oh shit
o god no

XM - Lvl 9001 Couch Potato says:
you have disturbing fetishes

I AM GOING TO QUOTE THIS
Dneo says:
okay nvm
.....
brb

---------------------------------------------

yeah that was me at XM's house

REST

2009-11-24T09:52:00.003+08:00

Resttttttttttttt.

After going out pretty much everyday it's a good feeling to have.

It's pretty weird to want to talk about IB one week since it's ended, so I shan't LOL

Ok. >_>

So far on the list of stuff to do, Jubeat's nearly done (975k Ave, target 980k)
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand nothing else.
Well, that and DJMax Technika's Heartbeat Course pass. Now to add Blythe in.

This is going to take a while.

A day before

2009-11-02T00:08:00.002+08:00

It is now exactly a day before the final exams of my Pre-Tertiary life, and more importantly the final exam of my ACSian Life.

It feels rather queer that I feel so very ambivalent about the entire exams. I know a number who feel similarly, what with the "Oh, it's just another prelims" feeling and all, but in the end I think it's not a very natural feeling to have on the day before the exams that could probably make a difference in the universities that off you a place (Ignoring other factors that could lead to you not going into said university - money and the like)

These days I've had a lot to think about, I guess. Perhaps it contributed to my not caring too much about the exams - too much other things to care about. Relationships, the future, love, life, and the like. Personal debts to pay to people (more than I'd give credit for, I bet) and debts to claim from people (admittedly very few). Thoughts to think, thoughts to write, thoughts to ponder upon for days and savour every last message and implication of each and every idea.

I must say that the past few days were worth it, even if not too much mugging was done.

-------------------------------------

So many thoughts yet I cannot place a single one on this blog. What a pity.

Mugggg

2009-10-20T23:34:00.002+08:00

HAI MINASAN MO BENKYOU SHITE ITE NE~♪

WATASHI WA GANBARU KARA MINNA MO GANBARANAITO IKEMASEN WA ^^

---------------------------------

だって、　千里の道も一歩から ♥

FUCKYEAH NO COMMANDOS

2009-10-19T17:38:00.001+08:00

Your enlistment date is on 04-Feb-2010. Your reporting unit is TRAINING LIST BASIC MILITARY TRAINING CENTRE SCHOOL 1.

FUCKYEAAAAAAAAAAAAH NO COMMANDOS YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY OHYEAHHHHHHHHHHHH

TAKE THAT SAMMMMMMMM SO MUCH FOR SUFFER YOU BASTARDSSSSS

GUESS WHAT I'M NOT SUFFERRING AS A COMMANDOOOOOOO

>> (implying I will not suffer as a person in BMT but oh well)

k back to mugging

Final Marks for Prelims (Public)

2009-10-09T17:14:00.001+08:00

It's almost the exact same feeling I felt two years and five months ago. The Same. Damn. Feeling.

Farewell Chapel, and A Recollection

2009-10-05T19:09:00.008+08:00

Thus far (as of typing time), it appears almost no one has blogged about farewell chapel, save a Y5 scholar who didn't care too much about it.

The chapel has indeed been a time for some food for thought - no doubt hindered by stupid formalities such as PC awards (of which I am clearly undeserving of anyway) during the chapel and being buggered about said stupid formalities after chapel, AND the random SAF talk that came after all of that (another story in itself; perhaps worth telling, but not on this blog. I'm lazy to type out two stories in one day). Regardless, I digress.

Sitting as a recipient at the side means you cannot enjoy having your final chapel with the company of your classmates. It is truly a buggersome thing to people who feel the farewell chapel carries at least some symbolic meaning (regardless of the quality of said chapel) and I must say that it feels all too annoying.

We are indeed an interesting and unique batch considering our circumstances: that we have seen the SQA from start to finish (a point no one actually cares that much about or was actually aware of in the first place, I'm sure); that we are the first batch of IB candidates that are not guinea pigs in any way whatsoever, since we had graduates upon our arrival in IB. Also, that we are of the small group of students seeing the beginning of the IB programme to what it is now - the only group to know how a purely O-level school was like, and witness its transitions to the IB school that it is now.

I'd also take a small breather and say that this was the last batch of GEP and non-SBGE students that ACSI will ever have, and though the names are similar the students are rather different, which some teachers apparently will testify to. Really, but a small little stone turned in the sandstorm of change.

We are, basically, part of the small group of students that have seen the school change into what it is now. The building of the IB campus, the extension of the SAC, the Astroturf, new auditorium and Center of Performing Arts, and the like. Alongside this change we have seen many teachers come and go - many wonderful teachers going, and many other wonderful teachers coming (and to come, though I won't know about this). I find arguing about whether the teachers of old or the current ones are better a rather meaningless one so I'll pass on that for now.

Of course, at this point I must admit that I see myself more as a student in ACSI for 6 years rather than an IB student for two years. I must admit this IB-mugger identity never really got to me and the EE, Mathport, TOK and shiz don't really feel like these overarching towers of doom, nor the entire journey as some journey through the valley of death. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I did stupidly difficult topics for ISO in Sec 3 and did 20-page ISOs in Sec 1 and 2 already (one on science, and one on humans too. Though admittedly the latter was a bit not-really-my-doing, and I apologize for my immaturity then BUT OH WELL let bygones be bygones I'm sure he doesn't mind). Just checking, was it really 20 pages for Sec 1? Check for me kthx unless you don't have the documents anymore. I know I don't.

So what defining moments of the years were there? Perhaps the brightest of them would be 2004, the beginning of many of our journies in the College of Wyverns, as some alumni would call it. Sec 1 shines to me because of a number of things. 118. Rugby. SJAB. An awesome class, and many others. However, one of the most memorable things from Sec 1 was probably eagles. See, as Dr. Ong said, that was the year where their theme for the year was taken from Isaiah 40:28-31.

"Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."

And that year was probably one where people remembered about what kind of became a quintessential quote for ACSians - Soar on wings like Eagles. To me, it was there next to "To God Be The Glory, The Best Is Yet To Be" and "Scholar, Officer and Gentlemen". No other year had a quote as memorable as this - Light of the World? Salt of the Earth? United in Spirit and Purpose? I couldn't even remember that the last one was this year's theme for the year! Perhaps I could say that ACS was more about eagles than wyverns, even! But that would be restricted to the time I have been in ACS - I presume older alumni would look more favourably upon the wyvern of ages past. Nonetheless, I think the fact that there are two statues of eagles in our school and not wyverns speaks for the current symbolic importance of eagles in our culture (perhaps a brainchild of the CEO? But I know not), and also perhaps the lack of significance of future themes (though I'd laugh pretty hard at the idea of a statue of salt) to come.

Another part of 2004 so very ACSian was 118, the dreaded number. Really, it was probably the most beautiful donation card ever designed, and amongst the most painful one a student in ACS will ever find himself required to donate to. 119 was nowhere near as impressively designed, and by 120 the idea had faded out. Was there a 117, though? I don't know. Perhaps some interviewing is in order here? Any teachers reading this, do give feedback. In any case, this ended up a number that any ACSI student at that time would fear for a long time to come. Money never flushed that quickly down the drain.

What was next in 2004, then? Perhaps something shared between all ACSians - Rugby B. Div Finals. The whole school went down to cheer. We never scored the final try needed to equalize. I have never seen a teacher cheer so hard for his school, nor have I ever seen a teacher cry for it. Why do they shout so loud, cry so soft, and walk away so silently at the end of the match? It was the first time I saw the school fight for something so desperately, cheered as desperately, and nearly cried in their defeat. 5 years from then, I still believe in cheering and screaming your heart out. Enough for someone to nickname me Thunderation.

Another event people would remember would be ACSIdol, perhaps. Chinese Karaoke never had this appeal. I remember going to watch, and seeing the eventual winner belt out We Will Rock You to the best of his ability, failing but still winning the applause of the crowd in the process. It was a kind of indomitable will and perseverance that he showed that made him so awesome, I suppose.

Then came 2005, where the GEP classrooms were closest to the SAC. Said classrooms now find themselves buried in books, concrete and will never see students having lessons in them again. They are gone forever, but 4 years after I stepped foot inside for the first time and exited it for the final time. The first OEP happened this year - mine at Desaru. If you asked me which OEP I considered the most fun, I probably couldn't be able to answer. All the OEPs were fun. Nonetheless, 2005 was a year that passed by quickly. To me, it also passed more insignificantly as far as the school was concerned. Classmates were awesome as always, but 119 wasn't as dreadful, and the like. Of course, the GEP Cruise this year was the most amazing thing to happen to any GEP student, but I'll spare readers from that much nostalgia. Besides, that wasn't something the whole batch went through.

Yes, I remember one important event. Mr. Tan See Keng's leaving. A truly wonderful person, that we even held a mini-concert of sorts for his farewell. He was one of many icons to leave the school, but at this point I felt the school was somewhat of a warm family watching a dear uncle leave for the world outside. A wonderful person had left the school, and perhaps it was the first of signals of the changing mechanisms within the school. No doubt unrelated events, though, I would think.

Year 3 and OEP were wonderful, and Vietnam was a trip hard to forget when you have Dr.Ong on the trip as well. I'm sure people who went to Kunming and Lijiang (do I remember the other places correctly?) had similarly beautiful experiences to remember. Round this year the first group of Y5s come into school, the pioneer batch (still guinea pigs at that point of time) that would soon bring glory to the school in their results. The SAC was extended to fit the new IB batch, and Indian suddenly became the 'in' food. The ramp where people would march up every UYO day would disappear to make room for this extension, and soon UYO days would become a mere shell of their former self. It was our final year of having assembly at Drong's Hill, and perhaps now few of the younger students would know that this seemingly unimportant hill was once so affectionately named, and right there once stood proud officers of every UYO, commanding the school for assembly. The new parade ground never had the same effect.

(I don't recall, but I believe the first Battle of the Bands was this year as well? Unfortunately I didn't go for this, and I cannot recall much of it.)

Haven was another important event of the year. I'm sure anyone who went for it still remember the tune to "Celebrate Each Day". For all the sacrifices that the teachers and students have made in the production of the musical, it turned out as a wonderful performance and showed that ACSians are very much natural performers.

"Life is too short, to waste it all away,
Just stop and celebrate, celebrate each day!"
(Please correct because I don't think these lyrics are correct)

Come 2007, the Year 6 pioneers were rushing mad with their work while us, the 3rd batch, were busy with our own IOC of sorts to Hamlet, POD essays, even mini Math Portfolios, and as I recall the latter half of ISO for the Pre-IB batch (the GEP had something else, see. I can't quite recall how the rest of them had it but CMPS was certainly a bugger). It's rather hilarious to think that parallels could be drawn between Y4 and Y6 so easily, except nothing we did in Y4 could have prepared us for the doom of Y6. Life was slowly transiting into the IB life, and Pre-IB finally began to feel a bit more Pre-IBish. Anglolympics now come and go, showing that the Y6s really wanted to make their last year a lot of play alongside a lot of hard work (teachers may debate upon the latter). On our end, we were pretty much playing anyway. In comparison to IB, anything before that really is kind of playing. Not having O-Levels kind of does that to you.

For a good number of us, UYO was now about pumping cadets and leading by example rather than painful pushups along the track, amphitheater, roadside, or what-have-you-not. Really; you name it, someone's did pushups there before. Except maybe the clock tower. Save for the Ventures, Primers and a few oddballs, it would also be our last year as official members of our respective UYOs. For most of us, Fridays probably never felt the same again.

To some extent, it's quite amazing to think that in addition to our IB life, a good number of us have went through so much as far as our secondary school education has been concerned. And the scary part is that this is a small bit of it all - what of SYF? UYO Competitions? Sports seasons? I merely laid out what I felt were points which almost all ACSians could have seen in common (admittedly AC Idol might not be up there), but even then I realize I fall very short even in attempting this. What about Bizworld and OM? The pain of ISO (that seems like a mere mosquito sting now, too)? All the various camps for UYOs, CCAs and the Prefectorial Board? It is fascinating to realize how incapable one is when it comes to the rather arduous task of stating the many events that would have shaped ACSians in this new millennium to be what they are now.

Yet regardless, change comes across as the only constant in life. The buildings we adore have changed greatly - the ramp is no more, the field near the porta-cabins are now a street soccer court (arguably a good change), fences alongside the path up the ramp are now gone with the new Astroturf. Teachers that we see today are gone tomorrow - how many are there now? In fact, even now, we as a 3rd batch will never understand the possible buggerisms of ePOD and other things the 7th and 8th batches would go through. We will never see an ACSI that they would - the change that we have witnessed is non-existent to them, and the change they will witness will come when we are gone.

I recall the pioneers' farewell speech by Han Sheng, and in it he talked so much about the new things in IB - Nirvana, Rivers, Arial Font Size Twelve Doublespacing and Justified, and a number of other jokes I couldn't catch when I was in Sec 4. I recall Joshua's farewell speech earlier this morning. There is none of that newfound fascination and horror towards IB - only 'seasons'. Orientation season, Math Port season, Sports season, Midyears season, the list goes on. The change from fascination to routine in a mere two batches is somewhat startling. Who knows? Two more years down the road and they'll all start calling Math Port a piece of cake! (Emphasis on all because I know some people in my batch already do)

Yet there is something remarkably ACSian about both speeches, no matter how different in content and in context. There was something about the Sec 4 farewell speech - though he seemed rather hilarious and foolish at times, he was undeniably ACSian. Perhaps the ending line confirms it. Similarly, there are traits in Joshua and Han Sheng's speeches that, no matter how different, call out to everyone in the auditorium as ACSian in nature.

We are part of a unique batch that has been able to witness such huge change in ACSI - in teachers, in students, in curriculum, in mission, and even in infrastructure. Yet at the same time, we are part of the batch that can testify to the idea that ACSians stay quintessentially ACSian, regardless of time. Perhaps the entire tradition of ACS feels timeless to a mere 18-year old such as I.

But I am proud to have been part of this school, and to have witnessed the changes in the school, good or bad. I guess in closing, the SA7's final line in their song (perhaps even a swan song, I dare say) fits aptly -

"The Best Is Yet To Be"

暇な日々

2009-10-03T12:06:00.002+08:00

'日々'はそういうもんだ。

悲しい時は遅い。
嬉しい時は早い。
暇な時は遅い。
忙しい時は早い。

今日は忙しくて、時間が早く通るけど、明日はきっと遅い日でしょう。　日々はそういうものだ。　気分が増減しやすいものなんだ。

もし世界はいつも早くなったら私達の人生はどうなるんでしょう。　たぶんニューヨークになるでしょう。　そういう人生はいいかな。　そんな忙しくて早い人生は意味あるのか。　ただ"何をやっているから意味がある"という答えは正しいですか。

逆に、今ののんびりな日々のほうがいいですか。

たぶん、今日は遅すぎてそんなへんな思いが浮かんでいるだろう。

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

I think this is becoming a queer habit. I don't even have any particular compelling reason to blog in jap but oh well

Thank God for Friends

2009-09-21T21:28:00.001+08:00

Thank God for friends. Truly.

Failure of Admissions

2009-09-20T21:14:00.000+08:00

All because I decided to pick Singpost over DHL.

What the fuck.

Eagles

2009-09-19T23:50:00.003+08:00

There're a few eagles left in Singapore. (Well, my mom called them 老鹰, and I do believe that there's a bit of room for ambiguity on whether they're eagles or hawks. So >_>) Gwin thought that it might be that they're lacking in food to eat - apparently it wasn't that but a lack of a habitat to live in. I guess Singapore just doesn't have enough high places to live in.

Slowly, the eagles fly away or die out, and none take its place.

What would the eagles have thought when they saw Singapore change, the buildings soaring high, their eyries mere dots from the top of the HDB? What did they think when they realized that no HDB roof would make a good nest, no matter how tall? Did they soar on wings - the eagles they are - to another land that will treat them better? Did they stay and see how long they could last, and eventually died off? Or perhaps they are in hiding! The child in me would like to give such an answer, but alas, it is unlikely.

Could the far-sighted eagle have seen in advance the troubles awaiting? Does it see its problematic future as clearly as it sees the world beneath it? Or does it stay in faith that its environment will persist until tomorrow?

We shall never know - the eagle mocks us mere humans and our incapability to see the world from a place as high as the sky.

------------------------------------------

I wonder if educational institutions who tell their students to soar on wings like eagles ever told the teachers the same thing.

Perhaps some of them figured it out themselves.

Chapter: Not Exactly The Last

2009-09-17T19:14:00.002+08:00

It seems that Singpost is so bloody fail that this isn't going to be Chapter: The Last (as the two of them put it) for me just yet. Goddamnit.

Advice to people applying overseas never use Singpost unless you're one month before the deadline

It severely pisses me off that everytime I do something it always ends up screwing over in some terrible way or it ends up being some insanely difficult thing to do.

First they don't tell me that documents go to London by the next working day
Then they take the thing like 5 seconds before the end (It's freaking scary when people say that they'll collect it before 6.00pm and come at 5.59.55pm. It's not wrong per se but goddamnit)
Then I find out they haven't even sent it by this time

I wonder what's next >_>

--------------------------------------

In any case, the temporary reprieve from exams (That some people don't care about, and I suppose I don't care about the fact that I care about it. Yes, they're different) comes at a good time but it's rather annoying that the bugger Singpost is ruining it so easily

TIP OF THE DAY GUYS

USE DHL INSTEAD OF SINGPOST IT IS WIN AND ACTUALLY RELIABLE INSTEAD OF THIS SHIT

Why do I want to take Psychology?

2009-09-12T01:52:00.002+08:00

Why do I want to take the PPS Course at Cambridge?

It is perhaps a natural result of the person that I have turned into - an observer more so than a participater.

But if you asked me, I do not have the clear interest that certain peers around me do. I do not have the flair that Jarrel has for the sciences, the dedication and passion that Jonny bears for geology, and the natural capabilities for the humanities that one like Shiru would have.

As it is, I could perhaps be at an impasse. Yet I am somehow geared towards this path. Why?

There are reasons I cannot write about. Reasons I cannot write about not because I must keep a secret, but because they are not there - I have yet to find them. Therefore we do away with them. What then, then, of the reasons that I CAN write about? Few that are particularly palatable, I would say.

The first perhaps is just general curiosity. I'm sure my peers would say that I am generally well-versed on the subjects I take (though I dare not say that I am proficient at any), and my interest in psychology and sociology may just be a curiosity pick for me.

The second perhaps is boredom. I cannot say that I bear a very strong interest in any of the subjects I currently undertake. Sufficient interest is there (perhaps more than some other students have towards any subject) but certainly none strong enough to hold a future. What then serves as a guarantee that I will undertake any university degree with the courage, determination and (dare I say it) enamored approach I had towards my current subjects? None.

Well, then, these don't make for very palatable reasons, nor very justified ones for taking sociology or psychology as a degree in a university, do they? Perhaps, despite what everyone says, a university life is not cut out for one like me! An entirely possible scenario.

The issue gets worsened when you realize the fact that sociology, psychology and cultural anthropology, for all their similarities, aren't that similar. They aren't terms which can be interchanged so freely, yet I should believe I have been doing so in a rather careless and perhaps desecratory manner. It is... an unhealthy behaviour, to say the least. I should be more clear with what I say and say that I am more interested in sociology than in psychology, though not to the extent where I would say I am extremely interested in cultural anthropology. I must unfortunately admit that that statement makes me feel like I am once again taking some form of middle-ground stance to this. Perhaps I am.

(...derp I really shouldn't write on a Gin and Tonic. Midori Tonics work fine but I guess Gin's twice as strong and twice as annoying when it comes to hindering you.)

It is ever so much easier to shoot yourself down than to pick yourself up. I guess that's why personal statements are so hard to write, aren't they?

...and unfortunately the writing of this blogpost has yet to bring me closer to writing a good personal statement. Le sigh. The occasional feverish feeling on my forehead and cheeks gets to me after a while. I guess I do have to sleep for now.

NO RAGNAROK ONLINE

2009-09-09T22:06:00.001+08:00

I WILL NOT PLAY RAGNAROK ONLINE UNTIL THE END OF IB

NO YOU XI MIN

グードモーニング・エー・シー

2009-09-02T21:55:00.002+08:00

明日、何かに誰かにいい事をしましょう。　例えば、挨拶すればどうですか？

”おはようございます～”って。　簡単でしょう？

家族に”おはようございます～”を言おう。
友達に”おはようございます～”を言おう。
先生に”おはようございます～”を言おう。
皆に”おはようございます～”を言おう。
だって、明日はいい日だよ。
良い天気、良い友達、良い先生、良い場所、良い学校、良い世界、

良い一日。

おはようございます、お母さん。
おはようございます、お父さん。
おはようございます、友達さん。
おはようございます、先生。
おはようございます、私。

おはようございます、私の学校。

グードモーニング・エー・シー。

彼と彼女

2009-09-01T21:34:00.004+08:00

"好きではないけど嫌いではない。　ただの'いる'と言う感じだ。”

ならば彼女との感じがないんじゃない。

"そうかもしれない"

かもって言うな野郎。

"考えれば皆に聞こう。”

なにを。

”俺と彼女の関係、今は大丈夫ですか。将来は大丈夫ですか。”

何でそんなことを皆に聞こうかな。…ああ。　そうだね。　君は感じがないからさ。　そういう考えしかできないのさ。　好きや嫌いやあんたにとって存在していない子束でしょう。　あんたの世界と考えは算数だけ。　物理学だけ。　科学だけ。　そういう思いだけ。　他の思いなんてない。　好きなんてない。　嫌いなんてない。　

思いなんてない。
重いなんてない。

"一番いい結果を探すんだ。”

もうないさ。

”あるんだ。”

そうか。結婚ですか。さあ、聞こう。あんた、彼女と結婚するつもりですか。

”そうかもね。”

もうかもって言うなって言ったんでしょう？！野郎。阿呆かてめは。

ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー

the fuck do i get worked up over shit like this for.

いやそうだね。　もう覚えました。

てめのせいじゃない。

てめのせいで俺の友達はそんなふうになったのよ。
てめのせいで俺と友達の関係はそういうもんなよ。

’好き’って言ったらいいのに。できないんでしょう。心から。好きではないか？気持ちがないか？心がないか？

ならなんで。

ファック。

Teacher's Day Eve

2009-08-30T21:50:00.003+08:00

Hey, tomorrow's the last teacher's day we'll be having for a really long time.

(I think. Do they do it in uni? >_>)

I think the silence sufficiently conveys my feelings about this.

The Future

2009-08-24T20:30:00.003+08:00

I find the idea of the future rather annoying. About dreams. About jobs. About work life, university life and 'what to do after this'.

It's annoying that there's a line between the people who have rich parents and can basically get into whatever university they want to, take whatever degree they want to and take any job they can afford to live off their parents - and the poor people who dream of getting a scholarship, getting a decent job (presumably bonded with the government), paying off their debts to their parents and hopefully breaking out of the cycle they were stuck in for so long.

And it's annoying that I have to tread this buggersome line because I'm not in either extreme category. Other people tend to take the first side if they can afford to, the second if they cannot. Someone like me inside the middle ends up feeling like he's completely out of touch with the world.

The ideals of job mobility and security come at certain prices - presumably the lack of the other in both respective cases. What's the value of a bond? Four to five years. How much is four to five years to me now? How much is four to five years to the me just out of the job market? What's the cost of not having a bond? Perhaps a student loan and you in the red; perhaps your parents working their lives away to finance your university life, or perhaps talent recognized enough for a bond-free scholarship (an idea so amazingly absent in the red dot).

There are horror stories of graduates ending up as clerks or any kind of work that ends up belittling their intelligence and capabilities. There are horror stories of graduates returning to Singapore, serving their bond and duty and realizing that the signature and fingerprint from the 18/19-year old you have cursed your life for the rest of your bond.

Really, there are horror stories of work life in general, just put it that way, huh.

It's annoying how I live with a belief and philosophy so egoistical in nature and so out-of-touch with reality because I believe that to some extent, reality can be conformed to me, as much as vice versa was possible. It is an idea that few can believe, fewer can justify, and almost none can execute. I do not lie within the 'almost none' nor the 'fewer'. Anyone lying within the 'almost none' is probably lying or an ubermensch.

Sigh. Nevermind, sian to talk. (I'll probably still be sian when any of you ask about it)

O U Bugger

2009-08-20T21:23:00.002+08:00

近い。　近すぎる。　分っている？　彼と一緒なら絶対にうれしい結論にできませんということ。　知らなかったんでしょう。　まあ、　しょうがないんさ。　それは人生だからな。　君は知ってるのは　"彼は私ほど相手を愛することができん”　と言う思いだね。　違いではないんだけど、まあ、正しいでもないんですね。　ちょっと複雑なことだね、人間関係は。　

僕は？　僕は分ってるよ。　君が知らないこと。　君が思えないこと。　考えられないこと。　彼のこと。　なぜなら彼はお前の思ったよりバカだからね。

近いよ。　近すぎる。　すっげ近いよ。　そんなに近ったら傷付けちゃうよ。　まあ、僕には関係ないけどね。

でもさあ、君にとってそれはどうでもいいんでしょう。　だって、　きみはもう言ったのよ。　”平等できないなら、私方が多いさ”って。　そういうの"愛"はどうかしら。　

実はね。　あんたは彼を感情捨て人形と見なすだけでしょう。　君は知らないけど。　でも、そうやったら幸せになれないよ。　そうしても続くのかな？　まあ、　今の君はそういう人と一緒にいることは必要かもしれません。　僕には関係ない。

でもさあ、　もうすぐ傷付けちゃうよ。　知らない、感じない、考えられないうちに。　

Fuckyear IOC Over

2009-08-18T19:47:00.003+08:00

fuckyeah IOC is over

Thanks to all people involved in helping me on this, including but not limited to:

Jiayan for giving a copy of IOC notes
Kuang for giving a copy of IOC notes (As my birthday present)
JY for giving a copy of IOC notes
Jarrel for giving a copy of IOC notes (On soft AND on hard copy =O )
Jonny for giving a copy of IOC notes
XM for practising IOC with me (I would put something here but I can't think of what)
Jonny for practising IOC with me (till I got sick of it hahahaha)
JY for practising IOC with me (and teaching King Lear)
Jarrel for giving me a copy of the IOC extracts (LOL I would've died without them)
Jiayi for lending me IOC poems during Maria Nathan's lessons
XM for typing out IOC raws for printing and practising
Arjun / Naga / HY / Lev / Julfri / Marc / Jonny / XM for wishing good luck on IOC
Arjun for lending his watch for IOC
Naga and Arjun for helping get my bag when I was running up the ramp (and thinking I was late for IOC for not reporting 15 minutes early mehhhhhh worry so much for nothing)

I uh believe that was about it. Is there anyone I missed out? I mean it goes under the "not limited to" part, but I rather dislike that. Do say something if I missed you out or something.

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ok back to life

Peace in mind, ironically

2009-08-11T16:09:00.003+08:00

偶尔我会怀疑。怀疑我生存的理由。怀疑我生存的意义。

你知道吗？如果你帮助人家太多次了，你会渐渐觉得“帮助人”是你存在的意义。如果你每一天都与天才们交往，你会渐渐觉得“天才”是你的身份。如果你一直帮朋友做他们的功课，你迟早有一天会觉得“若我不能做好功课的话就不是人家的朋友了”。

就像一支原子笔 - 每天每辰每秒用，墨水一完就没用。

而我就是一位拥有一支永远需要借给别人的原子笔。永远得自己再添墨水，再买墨水，再借别人。

或许有可能，我就是那支原子笔。自己添自己的墨水，无法这么样做的时候就立刻被丢掉。

－－－－－－－－－－－－

なんでだろう心が悩む時にいつも他の国の言葉でブロッグポストを書く。

ーーーーーーーーーーーーー

Perhaps today I really was not sound in heart nor in mind.

Thankfully I am now. I have a good friend to thank for my current peace and relief. At the very least, the above statements applied to a point before 23:30 of 11/8/09.

西野　奴へ

2009-08-09T20:08:00.002+08:00

拝見：　西野　奴へ

どうも。僕の名前をもう知ってるから自己紹介しない。気にしないでください。

私はね、今。お前のことが嫌いだ。…いや、嫌いじゃなくて、"苦情"　だ。　お前がやったことの結果で。　お前の人類関係の態度について。　

分かる？　お前の人生態度と苦情があるさ。　

お前は"内緒"の意味が分りますか？分らないのか？　"内緒"　の　"内"　は　"心の中に"　の意味ですね。分りますね。そして　"緒"　は　"一緒"　と言う意味ですね。それも分るよね。

でもさあ、あんたにとって　"内緒"　の　"緒"　の意味は　"皆と一緒"　だと思っているんじゃないですか。それより "内"　の意味を　"口の中に"　と思ってんのは何でだろう。　それはただの間違いですか。　それとも、これはあんたの秘密の守り方ですか。　冗談じゃないよ！　てめ！

おめえ、　分ってねんのか？　野郎！　人と人の関係の中心は気持ちだよ！二人だけの秘密は二人朋の気持ちの証明だよ！　内緒はただの物じゃない！　人はただの者じゃない！　他の人とあなたとの内緒はあんたの使い物じゃない！　そうしたらあんたは何者になるのか分る？　

感情がない人だよ。　皆の気持ちは分れなくて認められない人だよ。　悲しいですか。　でもあんたはもう感情がないでしょう。　悲しいと言う感じが分らん。　共感と言う思いは感じられん。　

笑わないでください。　僕は笑われない。

皆の気持ちをまじめに考えてください。

ー　あんたにとってただの者

2009-08-09T19:05:00.001+08:00

I forget the complicated nature of humans at some point of time.

I pray I keep myself sane and sound throughout this.

2009-08-06T01:02:00.002+08:00

I feel like such a small man in the great scheme of things.

I thank the friends I have for reminding me of this very fact.

18th birthday

2009-08-01T22:50:00.002+08:00

A total of 18 invited people, of which 4 did not come. One for a sad friend, one for a terrible fever, one for family matters and one for time.

It was, for the most of it, a class affair, with only a few other close friends attending. When you say the term, only 3 people come to my mind, all starting with 'J'. There are certainly other good wingmen who I have been with for a long time, each with funky letters (apart from J) - X, K, the like. But I'd say with certainty that only the first 3 I would call in any situation whatsoever. Nevertheless, one crashed anyway upon finding out some stuff.

Sometimes I wonder whether I'm a good chairman or host or leader or helper or teammate. Some people say I do too much for others. Others say I'm too hard on myself. Perhaps I am, perhaps I am. It feels very much my personality to be so, at the very least.

At the end of the party, everyone's gone. The only two people in the house are me and the man with the birthday tomorrow. The house remains in its silence - all fans off, air con (yes it's actually on) whirring ever so quietly - except for the jazz medley from the speakers. I can never understand how someone can get sick of it, only how someone can get annoyed at inappropriate moments for jazz (which is their fault anyway. dah)

Really. You should put yourself in a room one day, soundproof, with nothing but the sound of jazz in the background. If you ignore all the issues of forced solitude and potentially self-induced insanity, it's a pretty wonderful experience. I should try that again sometime.

I'm really very thankful that I had 14 people coming along just for this. Well, 13 to be exact. It's pretty damn fun and I really hope everyone enjoyed themselves. Well, I think they did. Should be. I did. It's really really really really sad about the 4 people, though. Particularly the fever one. Considering all the work put in, this really feels like the ultimate bummer.

Originally we were thinking about having some outside party. I'm glad it wasn't. I love my house for a party more so than any other place, really. Save maybe Wei Hua's. XD

I would write more, but my mind's pretty distracted here and there. I should get some jazz to listen to while writing, not Bump of Chicken. >_>

But I think I can answer in regards to one of the questions I have about myself.

I think I'm a pretty good chairman.

Random musings

2009-07-29T22:30:00.002+08:00

覚えていますか。　あたしのこと。　昔のこと。　…覚えてない？　…ハア。　しょうがないな…　せっかく出会ったのに。　まあ、いいか。　最初から始めようか。

あたしとあなたの初めての出会いは七年前のことだ。その時のあんたはそんなにちっちゃかったわよ。　覚える？　覚えない？　残念。　すっごく可愛かったよ。　…いや、そういう意味じゃないから…

いつもの話、覚える？　寝る前の話。　未来のこととか、夢のこととか、恋のこととか…　本当に覚えないのか？　あんた。

毎朝一緒に学校へ行く。　毎晩一緒にベッドに寝る。　毎日君と一緒に明日へ進む。

覚えたの？　

そうよ。

あたしはね。

昔のあんただよ。

好きだよ、昔の君。　今の君。　そして未来の君。

この七年間、　どうだった？　つらかったかな？　楽しかったかな？　悲しかったかな？

今日はね。　あんたとあたしだけ。　明日まで話し合おう。　昔のこと。　昨日のこと。　今日のこと。　そして未来のこと。

本当に長かったんだね。

Memories - Neighbourhood

2009-07-26T21:26:00.002+08:00

Bukit Timah Plaza and Beautyworld near my place used to be very good locations to go to for shopping and the like - general tourist attractions, Singaporean and Malaysians alike.

There's a very large grassy plain inbetween my house and Beautyworld. There used to be pasar malams there every once in a while - the other (perhaps the actual) reason why the area just outside my house was a popular location for tourists.

They're all gone, of course. Mom says that they've been gone ever since a pasar malam at Redhill unfortunate enough to catch fire. The government's banned them ever since. Now when I go to the Cameron Highlands (last Dec) the pasar malam there feels rather alien yet slightly nostalgic. More alien than nostalgic though.

Paddle pop used to be an absolutely wonderful ice cream. Still is, in fact. Rainbow-swirly goodness at pretty much the most affordable price (per stick) that any ice cream nowadays can hope to sell for. It's a very good thing the Esso just outside my house still sells them. I hear they're not in fashion anymore. Pity.

It really is good stuff. Gwin and I bought one stick each on the way home yesterday. He said they made paddle pop smaller these days. I said they stayed the same - we just grew up. I don't know whether I'm right or he's right. Maybe both. Maybe not. Oh well. Good stuff, though.

Waffletown was a pretty awesome place at Bukit Timah Plaza. Ever since they moved to Balmoral Plaza it's felt less like a homey cafe and more like another random outlet. Yes, I know. It does feel that way, even though it's probably the only outlet in Singapore.

There used to be a funky arcade in the middle of Bukit Timah Plaza too. I never went there, though. Wasn't too into arcades back then. I always thought about going there just to see when I grew up. I guess I never got the chance.

I never see little kids running around in the void deck playing Wizards or shooting each other down with water guns anymore. Sure, the Super Soaker series became waaaaaaaaaay less awesome once they cut production of all the good stuff (CPS =D) but I never realized it got so bad.

It's just 20 cents for a bucket of fun, too. Well, I suppose it's quite a waste of water. Oh well.

I never realized it, but the grassy plain just outside really did feel rather empty. But it felt nice having an empty plain just... there. Once in a while you would see people fly RC planes (or helis, whichever they had). Now all you see are white walls and the occasional turqoiuse board saying "MRT Line coming your way",

Maybe Beautyworld will end up being a nice place to go to again.

Exams

2009-07-21T21:09:00.002+08:00

It's hubris.

Hubris, I tell you.

Only my Lang Arts results are keeping me from breaking something right now.

A letter from the past; a letter from the future

2009-07-20T22:50:00.003+08:00

To: The Me of the Future.

Dear Me of the Future:

Hi there, me. I'm sure you know who I am, so introductions aren't necessary. It's been a while, hasn't it? If you can't remember, I'm 15. I'm sorry about not knowing how old you are, but I can't help it. I don't know the future.

How's life for you? What're you doing right now? Where are you? How're your parents? Friends? Doing fine? Mine are.

I know you're wondering why I'm writing a letter to you. There's some things I can only tell you. I can't tell anyone else - not my friends, not my parents, no one. They're my pains and problems, and only I can listen to them. I know it's a bit selfish, but please let me take up a bit of your precious time while you read this.

I miss the past.

I miss the fun I had as a child. Playing at the playground with whoever comes along. Catching, freeze and melt, crocodile, and blind mice. The carefree days that will never return.

I miss my childhood.

Life currently is all about work. All about competition. All about aiming high. I can't take any of that. I'm afraid of turning into you. I've no idea what it feels like to be you. Will it be scary? Will it be painful? Will it be sad? I don't know. Sometimes life is good. But what if it disappears? Will it be gone forever? Will I never see it again? Will the future eternally be bleaker than the present?

I'm breaking down.

I want to cry. I'm afraid. I can't take life. It's tough. I don't know who to confide in. I can only confide in you. Myself. No one else. Who else do I share this heart with? Who else can I share this heart with?

I'm going to give up. I'm going to cry. I'm going to disappear. It's painful. Who do I listen to?

My heart keeps getting broken. Shattered. Smashed by the life around me. The stress and pain of it all.

I can't carry on. I miss the past. I'm afraid of the future.

Love,
Me.

--------------------------------------------------------------

To: The Me of the Past

Dear Me of the Past,

Thank you for your letter. It's been very long since I kept in touch with you, hasn't it? Time flies, and before you know it you're many many years older. I'm a bit insecure about this, so I'll have to keep it a secret from you, sorry.

There're many things I'd like to say to you, the 15-year old me. But most of that will have to come in later letters. Let's do the most important things now, shall we?

I miss the past too.

It's true. The past shines brightly. But dear, you have to realize that there is a difference between "the past was full of good times" and "the past was full of good times too". People can only see the bad side of the present, rarely the good. Yet people can only see the good side of the past, rarely the bad. Life right now is better than you think. Believe me - I like my life right now, and the past still shines as brightly. Even the time you're living in right now.

Believe in yourself.

Find out who you are. I don't know how or when I did it, so I can't give you any advice here. But never stop asking, no matter how painful it may be at times. The day you stop asking who you are and why you do things you cease to be yourself. You cease to live, only exist. And once you cease to live you fail to realize the beauty of life right at this very moment. Life is beautiful, dear.

Keep on believing.

Please don't give up; please don't cry. When you ever feel like you're about to disappear off the face of the earth, just listen to your own voice. Listen to it. Trust it. Trust the path that you're walking down. The life of a youth is tough, stressful, painful. But trust yourself and take one step every day towards the bright future awaiting you.

Never stop believing.

Adults have it tough too. Sometimes I feel like giving up. Sometimes I feel like crying. Sometimes I feel like disappearing. Life is painful even for me. But life's sweet too. And that's life. That's how I live it.

Everything in life has a meaning. The painful times, the happy times, the sad times, the frustrating times. So don't be scared of it. There's a reason why it happens. Just embrace your dreams and keep on believing.

Keep on believing, keep on believing.

Life will be painful no matter what times you live in. Running away from pain will never be enough. So just smile. And live out every single day with a smile.

Love,
Me.

--------------------------------------------------------------

To: Me

Dear Me,

I wish for your happiness.

Love,
Me of the Present.

--------------------------------------------------------------

From a rather beautiful song. Rather unoriginal, but ah well. I shall not take credit for any idea here.

Jubeat 4th Placing

2009-07-18T23:04:00.004+08:00

fuckyear 4th place at White Sands. The group there is quite awesome lol.

Freaking lucky considering I screwed up my first song (967 when my best was 985). Prosu Tentai Kosaku carry (995, 2nd best there. Best was 997) and decent Perfect Sky (973) makes for a 4th place (lost to 3rd place by 600 points wtf that's like the 4th digit of 6 sianzipuah)

Pro lines

"Eh you live around pasir ris one arh"
"Uh no"
"Then you play where"
"Uh dhoby ghaut"
"JI HONG WHY YOU COME ALL THE WAY HERE WHY NEVER GO CHOA CHU KANG"
(coz the top 3 people going CCK yeah)
"dhoby sunday wad so i just come here first lor"

Friendly bengs are usually quite awesome lolol

in other news: semis here i come time to get ownt by the pros lololololol

in more other news : i am now the owner of a jubeat USB clock lolol (i can't believe there are people who want to buy this at $42. wtf @ sgcafe)

End of Midyears

2009-07-13T21:56:00.002+08:00

And the exams are over~

Though it must be said that they don't feel as much like exams as they do random extended holidays. I'm sure there're the naysayers around, but ah well. We sure as hell aren't gonna get any more days of coming home at 11-12+, then slacking around the house with friends and revising (or on free days, a good game of pool).

I've never really been a LAN person. I openly admit this.

Thank God for people who can get people together. I never could do that. I suppose that's why I didn't want to be chairman, I guess. Charisma's not in my blood.

For now, rest.

Dere for collegeboard

2009-07-09T11:00:00.003+08:00

Cut all that I have said earlier

I am now dere for collegeboard~^^ wai~

<3

2009-07-06T21:52:00.000+08:00

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

WHY
WHAT HAVE I DONE
WHAT THE FUCK
IS THIS
SHIT

OH MY GOD
MY RAGE
KNOWS
NO
BOUNDS

What are exams to us?

2009-07-01T21:42:00.004+08:00

A genie sits in the bottle, waiting to be opened. The bottle stays closed, safe in the hands of merchants and travellers, trading it like the antique it is but never wondering and considering to open the cork to marvel at the inside, only seeing it on the surface. Only the curious ever open it, and get their single wish before the genie and bottle disappear from his hands.

It appears in the hands of the first child. What do you wish for, boy?
"Every man to work for the greater good, and every man equal."
And soon he saw himself in a prosperous world.

It appears in the hands of the second child. What do you wish for, boy?
"The end to racial, gender, sexual discrimination."
And soon he saw himself a tolerant world.

It appears in the hands of the third child. What do you wish for, boy?
"The end to HIV."
And soon he saw himself in a far safer world.

It appears in the hands of the fourth child. What do you wish for, boy?
"The end to all wars."
And soon he saw himself in a war-free world.

It appears in the hands of the fifth child. What do you wish for, boy?
"World peace."
And soon he saw himself in a peaceful world. Perhaps some of you might argue - a nearly unchanged world, by this point. Perhaps so.
(Or maybe he found himself in a beauty pageant?)

It appears in the hands of the sixth child. What do you wish for, boy?
"The end to all examinations."
And the genie decided to rest.

-------------------------------------------------------

I'm sure this isn't a new story to a number of you, just a variation of the story (or perhaps message).

The children (all of unique nationalities and races too, I'm sure readers would notice) all wish for something similar - something that would have greatly improved life in their world.

I'm not gonna go around shooting down my own culture since I'm quite fine with it and all (save NS but ah well) but it's always food for thought.

But today, here's the other question.

What WOULD happen if Singapore had no exams? None of the "study hard, take tuition, do your work" and all that. None of this 'exam hard or exam smart' attitude. For once beginning-of-term-3 gossip won't be about Chem Paper 2 Question 1 (which I have been misquoted on apparently - it is actually rather @_@)

School might actually be a fun place for learning. As the raven Corrax might point out, distant utopias of learning actually do exist. Not that I actually hate school or anything, I'm just certain that a hell lot of people out there do.

But then again, why is it that we consider examinations this annual antagonist that we always spar against and attempt to intellectually best? It's not as if other countries don't have exams, they just don't put the focus on it. You don't get parents who go about forcing other kids to find out their exam results in other countries, do you? So what happens?

Perhaps it's a culture here. (Derp I just went back to culture OH WELL) You can't take the queen bee out of the hive and tell everyone else "You're free! Run off!", can you? One of them'd just take over, naturally. It's part of the hivemind. Students in Singaporean schools that don't have major examinations - ahem IP - basically have projects to make up for it.

At the same time, I realize this is rather disturbing in the sense that such tests are so deeply engrained in our culture that it has become Singaporean to be like this (Perhaps it could even be generalized to 'Asian'. But I'm doubtful of that) - much like how it's 'Singaporean' for guys to all trade NS stories once they get out of it, and the like (Random thought. Someone should have a Singaporean TV show called Gossip Guy). Do we want this as part of our culture?

I remember a Y8 senior of mine (here's another thought here. Why 'Y8'? Will it eventually reach 'Y9' and 'Y10'? Do we never actually 'leave' school?) once talked about the identity of our school IB programme. He shunned the idea of girls in school, a somewhat understandable stand considering the pioneer batch just realizing JC life will never be as awesome as his 4 years in ACS(I) as a secondary student. But it was interesting how, as he said, the identity changed with the second batch. His class was one which took green forms for fun, screamed "LAST DAY OF PE" and ponned the whole day for soccer, and the like. The next class was nowhere like that. I'm sure mine isn't too bad, but nowhere near that either.

The most disturbing thing that he felt about the identity of an ACS IB student was how drastically different the second batch had turned it into. The idea of an "IB mugger" didn't exist originally. We created it. We, as a school, during the second year of our IB programme, had a student council that thought that the IB mugger was a good identity to put on your chest and pass it on proudly to the Y6s then, telling them "be proud of being a mugger" and passing them the ever-known mug, little stick ACSians included. That same council passed the cups on to us, a new batch which gladly embraced the identity set forth by our seniors, embracing it seemingly as a school culture almost historical in nature when it had just been fresh out of the oven but a year ago.

I won't try to say that this identity was the brainchild of someone, or some group, or some batch. While I'm not certain whether this identity ACSIB now bears is inevitable, I shall try to have faith (or perhaps in this case a lack thereof) that life would turn out this way whichever parallel universe we lived in. But this is the result of a national culture inherent in us! We embraced this identity willingly, marketed it, and integrated it into our two short years here!

So back to the point. What after exams? What of us IB Muggers?

Say the genie saw the 6th kid again. What would he ask for next?

TROLLED SO BAD

2009-06-25T22:02:00.002+08:00

TROLLED SO BAD

WHY

OH MY GOSH

DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

COLLEGEBOARDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

(Edited because the first one broke margins lol)

Vienna

2009-06-24T12:27:00.001+08:00

Slow down you crazy child
You're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart tell me why
Are you still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

Slow down you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (tonight)
Too bad but it's the life you lead
You're so ahead of yourself
That you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong
You know you can't always see when you're right(you're right)

You got your passion you got your pride
But don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize
Vienna waits for you

Slow down you crazy child
Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while
It's alright you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize...
Vienna waits for you.

A summary of the hols

2009-06-23T02:23:00.002+08:00

Aaaaaaand it appears we need to study.

Damnit.

The hols have been a lot of working, a lot of playing, a lot of slacking, a lot of jazz, and a lot of thinking.

A lot of working on random things like the SATs, the IAs, the EE, the TOK, the various revisions and projects.
A lot of playing random games like COH, Jubeat, LR2, and the frequent arcade trips.
A lot of slacking talking shit with friends, lazing around and playing bartender.
A lot of jazz in 60-minute medleys on nicovideo I'm sure my brother is sick of. I'm not.
A lot of thinking.

A statement I hear around a lot is the 'because you're smart and I'm not' statement, or similar kinds. It's rather painful, really. First, it's defeatist in nature. Secondly, it's terribly condescending, both ways. Third, it doesn't even give me a chance to act human. Sometimes I wonder how those far smarter than me feel. It's a depressing thought. Somewhere out there there's a girl rejecting someone, saying 'You're too smart. It has not done you good.' and she means it.

Sometimes surprising things happen to people you'd never expect such things to happen to. (I hope I phrased that right.) Life really does work in mysterious ways, I suppose. Even the closest of men around you remain as unpredictable as the strangers they were ages ago. Well, in a retort to that, I suppose it's the strangers that they meet up with that make them unpredictable, isn't it? You'd never know how you'd react to a stranger - friend? foe? lover? acquaintance? And consequently it makes sense you'd never understand how the people around you react to strangers they meet. Somewhat fascinating, honestly.

I will soon be an uncle in a few weeks, presumably very soon after the exams. Perhaps it's kind of the first sign that you're getting old. I suppose the other is when you start drinking alcohol without your parent's permission and they don't mind (though some will quickly argue that's more of a sign of bad parenting. I don't deny that).

Deep inside everyone there's a simple essence - a universal core, if you will. A concept of humanity. Sadness, happiness, awe and wonder. Yet this essence gets shrouded and clouded by many things - ideology, opinion, intelligence, talent, fame and the like. I just hope that in viewing the many aspects of life wrapping around the essence, people don't forget and forsake the essence holding all the aspects of life and personality together. No one likes dehumanization.

It's the final holidays as a Pre-U student. What have I done? What have I accomplished?

In hindsight, perhaps not that much thinking. Well, to my own defence, I didn't pen down everything. Thankfully. =p

EQ and IQ

2009-06-11T11:53:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I wonder about why the world was made this way. Why I'm the person I am, why he or she or they are the people he or she or they are, why you are the way you are (A generic form of 'you', since I'm not in the lets-play-cryptic mood)

My mom teaches special ed. I'm sure the readers I know reading this know that too, and that the readers I don't know reading this probably don't know this either.

She mentioned a kid in her school dead intent on getting a PSLE Certificate. For EM3 students. His parents were apparently rather low-IQ as well.

We know already that won't get the kid anywhere in life. Why do it? I attributed it to male pride. I attributed it to a drive to do well. A need to prove that he could succeed where his parents (might) have failed. And I realized five minutes later that was just vanity in my ego trying to place myself in his shoes forcefully - perhaps not a square peg in a round hole, but more of a XL round peg in a S round hole. I'd never get it, and my attempting to push my own motivations onto others is but a terrible attempt to feel less estranged from the world.

But as much as I eventually realized I would never know anything about this kid no matter how much I speculated (simply because of the difference in thought) , I realized it'd just apply to everyone else in general - the smart ones, the dumb ones and the little blue smurfs.

And as a corollary, people wouldn't understand me no matter how hard they tried - a very, very natural conclusion.

------------------------------------

I forgot what else I wanted to write lol nvm. gg it sounds so emo when it isn't ah well

Of Cards and Poker

2009-05-27T19:03:00.001+08:00

Albert turned around the corner. He was here just a year and a half back, staring down the busy line towards the one man who stayed still amidst the bustling life around him - the beggar who asked for two bucks for a mug of beer.

"Hey you, wise guy." He turned around.
"Yeah, you, wise guy." and he looked down. There he was, lying at the side, unnoticed by all.

"Remember me, wise guy? I met you before, didn't I? Jus' over a year back. Two bucks, right here. Still remember? I even got the dice here. Wanna try your luck at a seven again?" the gambler

"I'll refrain. Have you any other gambles to wrest my money with today?" the gambler shook his head.

"Always do, kid. Up for it?"

"Two bucks."

The gambler took out his pack of cards and began to explain.
"Tell ya a story first, kid. Have you ever learnt what makes a successful kingdom?" Albert shook his head.

"Well, I'll tell ya. It's called a Royal Flush. The strongest 5 in a pack. Any kingdom needs these, kid."

He took out the ten of spades. "First, the masses. No kingdom does well without its citizens. No leader can do without followers. The more, the better for a small group. Not 2, not 7, 10."

He took out the jack of spades. "The jack of all trades. What is a king without the jack of all trades? A team cannot be successful without diversification - without all-rounded capability a team is rendered useless by any rival in the sole area it is competent in."

He took out the queen of spades. "The queen of emotion. Just as every successful man has a devoted woman behind him, every competent king has a devout queen at his right side. The female brings emotion into the life of the team, keeps it from being cold-blooded, and keeps humanity in it."

He took out the king of spades. "The king and lord. The charismatic leader. For without him, there is no one to follow. A jack can do his trade but he will never find himself a leader, for he cannot master the reins of kingship. No group cannot exist without a king and leader to guide the masses.

He took out the ace of spades. "And lastly, the hidden master. A mere number amongst the crowds, but with the skill that none compare to, isolated by his talents. Even for a group of two he is essential for any certainty of success."

He kept the cards, and shuffled them.

"Game's simple. We take 5 cards each, and the one between us who has a better hand. Simple enough? Here's the catch. We choose our cards. I go first. And to be fair, I won't play a Royal Flush. Fine with you?"

"Fine with me," Albert said. It was more than fine. He was going to win with that kind of condition.

The gambler took his five cards and passed the deck to Albert. Even if the gambler wasn't allowed to pick a royal flush, nothing said that he couldn't do it himself. He looked through the cards - ah. He went for the four aces. Now what?

"I hope you have picked your kingdom, boy." Albert smiled.
"Yeah, I have."

"And I know what it is already, wise guy. It's the nine, ten, jack, queen and king of spades, isn't it, boy?" the gambler laughed. Albert showed his hand; exactly the way the gambler had said it.

"I find, Mr. Gambler, that a royalty in mind, in spirit, in synchronization with the masses is more successful a group than the four geniuses which you have picked, is it not? Even in poker, the straight flush bests the four-of-a-kind. Might I have my money, good gambler?"

"Well, then, Mr.Wise Guy, let me ask you a question." the gambler cleared his throat. "Even in poker, the straight flush is but 5 cards being both of a straight and a flush. What then makes the 10-to-Ace a Royal Flush rather than a straight flush?" Albert remained silent.

"Think about it, will you? What about the Ace over a Nine makes a Straight Flush a Royal Flush?" Albert shook his head.

"Well, you're not very bright, then, are ya. King to Ace sure doesn't sound straight to me. You can't call it straight if it isn't, right? So they call it Royal. But that's not the issue. The issue's my cards." and the gambler throws them out, one by one.

"The Ace of Finances." The Ace of Diamonds.
"The Ace of Might." The Ace of Clubs.
"The Ace of Passion." The Ace of Hearts.
"The Ace of Labour." The Ace of Spades.

"The Ace of Humour." The Joker.

"Ah," Albert commented. He took out his two dollars, ready to give them to the gambler.

"And my kingdom is clearly more competent than yours. Have you ever wondered why this hand trumps even the royal flush? There're two reasons. I'll tell you." he laid down the joker on the floor.

"See, there's something special about this joker. Take out this joker and you win. Why? Because the four geniuses are too smart for people - there's an issue of connecting with the crowd, you see. Take a smart man and a dumb man and the latter will never understand the former's thoughts. Well, actually vice versa holds true too. But you see, that's where Yours Truly comes in. Who can't associate with the joker and fool? That's how the story goes, at least. You may have the strongest team on the surface, dude, but I have the strongest team in the shadows." he smiles to himself, and picks the card up.

"It's never the most prominent of governments that changes the life of the world, but the team of scientists and genius researchers working together, isn't it? But I'd suppose no one ever realizes that." the gambler takes the two dollars and puts them in his side pocket.

"What's the second reason, then? Why the Joker and Aces are the strongest hand." Albert asked. The gambler laughed to himself.

"Well, innit obvious? Maybe a Royal Flush IS stronger, but you'd never know! You try finding that many geniuses after they got stolen by the joker." the both of them laughed to themselves, and Albert turned to leave.

"Just one last question, good gambler. Why do you stay here? What's there for you? You're a smart man; I'm sure you could work your way around this city."

"I'm no smart man," the gambler replies, taking a card out of his deck and passing it to Albert.

"I'm just a pretty blessed joker."

-------------------------------------------

Some buggersome stories just take one whole week to write. Basket. And after that emobout I started to hate the story a bit. But nevermind.

Addendum: In case people weren't aware (I'm sure plenty weren't), this is a sequel.

2009-05-26T20:57:00.002+08:00

Somehow I know I'm supposed to expect things to turn out a certain way, but it's always rather depressing to remember again that if you hide a side of yourself from the world for too long the only person who knows that it exists is you -

- and you alone.

I know that some people comment that they never figure out what I'm thinking. I just forget that I need to take that line of thought more seriously.

The problem with being an observer was that you never managed to mingle with others properly. It comes with the job.

The problem with being a storywriter was that you never thought about people but the message you were going to write through them or even worse, about them.

The problem with being a thinker was just that sometimes you do it too well.

The problem with considering humanity in regards to anything was that you ceased to be human yourself.

The problem with being me is that no one will be like me. And perhaps no one like you means no one likes you. But that's just overly pessimistic behaviour.

----------------------------------------------------

Perhaps for every action ever seen of me there have already been a hundredfold gone unwitnessed

SG MBAA

2009-05-16T22:37:00.001+08:00

So the MBAA Tourney has come and gone.

Damnit shit happens. Like Dneo getting 3rd wtf.

Tournament results:
Me: lost first round to Full Ries
JY: bye first round, lost second round to Half Nanaya (I think)
SZ: bye first round, lost second round to Full Ries
WH: lost first round to Cres Warc
Cleon: won first round against Half Red Aki, lost second round to Half Mech
Cheli: >_>
Dneo: won first round against Half Tohno, won second round against Cres Kohaku, won third round against Full Mech, lost fourth round against Cres WLen, won fifth round against Cres Miyako

fml Cres Wara cmi

Death of a Convict

2009-05-10T23:29:00.004+08:00

The convict stares around him. The Colosseum filled to the brim with people waiting to see the main show - death by hanging for he who committed the highest sin of the Empire.

Killing the King.

He faces down towards the priest staring him in the eye - looking back at him to the best of his ability while keeping himself unrestrained by the rope round his neck. The crowds roar. The executioner remains emotionless - none see the face behind the ashened mask. "Purge his sin! Cleanse Our land! Hang his head and cut his breath!" a man shouts. Another follows. Another. Soon the audience is chanting. Purge his sin. Cleanse our land. Hang his head and cut his breath.

"Stop!" shouts the priest. Immediate silence. The crowd wavers in anticipation. The executioner yawns with apathy. He continues to stare down.

"This man here has committed the greatest of sins against the Holyland!" the priest shouts. The Colosseum roars back. Almost instantly they begin to chant again.

"But!" the priest shouts again. "we cannot grant sin victory by sinning against the sinner. No! It is in divine providence that we must give him the final chance to see The Way, to repent, to do good. Without it!" the crowd is silent.

"There is no justification for our cleansing of his soul." The crowd is solemn.

"Convict!" the command echoes throughout the Colosseum. The priest looks into his eyes. "You have committed the gravest of sins in the history of our Holyland. You have killed the Honoured King, blest by the Gods themselves. Regicide, divine mutiny, and treason. Those are the three largest sins you bear. Do you have anything to say of your unhallowed actions?"

The Colosseum stays silent, waiting for the convict's reply. The convict stays silent. The executioner remains nonchalant to the silence.

"Convict," the priest says, more gravely. "In the absence of our Hallowed King and in the mental distraughtness of His Royal Family, I, the High Priest of Our Holyland, have offered to take proceedings of this trial. Their divine wrath may have banished your life from this world by now, but I am not permitted to be of their nature, as I am but a High Priest humbly serving the King. Take this chance seriously, convict. It shall not come in any other lifetime of yours."

"Do you have anything," he says, pausing for a moment. "anything, Convict, to say of your unhallowed actions?" he stares at the convict, who only stares back in silence.

"Nothing, my priest," the convict says, still staring him in the face.

"Nothing? Nothing shall come of nothing! Do you intend to mock the benevolence granted upon you by sheer grace and divine will? Do you intend to scoff upon the charity of this nation, for whom you have lived within since your birth, and by your very choice at this moment perhaps your death too! Insolence!" he shouts. The crowd goes wild, infused too with the wrath that had suddenly overcome the priest. The Colosseum is filled with nothing but chanting and roaring again. Amidst the chaos, the priest sees the convict's lips move. He tries to hear, but fails. He cannot decipher the words of the convict.

"Silence!" the priest screams, drowning out immediately the roars and chants of the entire audience. Silence again. "The Convict speaks. Desecrate not the name of our Kingdom by depriving his right to speak." he turns to the convict. "Speak, Convict."

"What I had said, o priest, is that it is not insolence, my priest." the convict continues to stare into the priest's eyes.

"I see," the priest remarks, and looks at the convict again. "why is that so, Convict?"

"For my actions cannot be considered insolence if they were so deemed deserving, my priest." the crowd screams, visibly agitated. The rows of spectators stand and hurl stones at the convict. He does nothing. The executioner fumbles around, trying his best not to get hit by the stones.

"It is known!" the convict shouts. "Common knowledge, even! Of the divine wrath of the King and the Royal Family. Their trials and cleansings! With every purification the gallows are filled with the corpses of a thousand citizens! Tell me, O Priest! Tell me, O Country! Tell me, O Kingdom! Is their divine right to wrath worth the lives of thousands gone with every purification?"

"There is no sin in my actions! For I exist here a martyr to the beliefs that our Holyland have stood for since time immemorial. Is it not sin to purge the lives of many without the first pardon to death, o priest? Is it not sin to call for the gullotine on a man before the crowd can bear to even throw a stone?" the convict continues in his tirade, always staring into the eyes of the priest, each statement with more power than the next.

"It is divine retribution, O Kingdom! Divine retribution that such a fate befall the King by the hands of mere men like me. For the Gods themselves have invoked in me the divine wrath I needed to serve sacred justice against the Royalty that desecrate the hallowed name of our Holyland! Is this act, called upon by the very gods themselves, then considered a sin?" the crowd cannot accept the convict's speech. Stones fly from every direction of the colosseum towards the centre - the hanging ground. Everyone inside scrambles to the walls to avoid being stoned, save two - the priest, protected by the guards and their shields, and the convict, on the stands with rope bound around his neck.

"Convict! Know your place!" the priest shouts. "You stand here, a convict of the court, subject to the law of the Kingdom and held accountable to the masses. Of what right do you dare declare yourself a messenger of the wrath of the very gods that allowed our late King to assume his position as King Himself?"

"If I stand here as a convict," the convict declares, "then it is by my own conviction that I do so!" Amidst the hurling of stones and the roaring of voices, the convict's one statement rings throughout the entire colosseum.

"Madman! Sinner! I hereby declare this convict as a sinner of the gravest sins and sentence him to death!" the priest yells. He turns to the executioner immediately. "Executioner! Put this man to death immediately!" the crowd roars. The time has finally come. The executioner fumbles and quickly runs over to the lever. The convict continues to stare the priest in the eyes, seeing into his self, seeing the priest for what he really was. The priest immediately turns his head away.

"Why judge, O priest?! Why sentence?! Why curse and foul my name?! We are all going to die at some time, O Kingdom!" the convict shouts at the top of his lungs. His single voice overpowers the audience for an instant, but is immediately drowned out. The priest sees his lips move again. He cannot hear his words, only decipher its meaning by reading it. The crowd will not stop for silence this time.

"Just that I intend to deserve it." the executioner pulls the lever. The convict falls, hung on the noose of the rope, silent and motionless.

---------------------------------

Addendum: Man, I just realized this is so much like a carbon copy of another story I wrote last time.

SYF

2009-05-05T21:10:00.002+08:00

Bittersweet. So bloody bitter and so little sweet.

I wonder why I felt so depressed over it.

Because I didn't do my best? I personally felt I did. I won't be able to find out any unbiased opinion about how we did for each song, so I can't tell if I actually did my best (as a section).

Because the choir could have practised more? Perhaps. We could have. I heard other JCs sang every day in the morning. Certainly they wouldn't have any problems with feeling tired or the like.

But I think one important thing was spirit. Anyone who saw how the schools were like after announcing results would agree with me. Our choir doesn't have that, and it never will.

And the other? 一雄芝崎's words suffice

一雄芝崎:
of all my friends that sang with me for syf leaving after syf
including you
it is just dam sad to part ways
especially after singing together for a period of time
TT
that's why the syf results are so important to me
becuase we worked together towards that goal
it is something that we have put in so much time together
nvm
haiz

I sincerely want to drink some alcohol, but I'll refrain.

AWARE

2009-05-03T09:36:00.002+08:00

9.15pm Josie Lau: “The exco has graciously decided to step down and we wish Aware all the best in its future endeavors."

Pretty fascinating considering that the vote went at a 2-1 majority for the stepping down of the exco even after they allegedly sent busloads of people to vote for them (redshirt/whiteshirt dichotomies there help differentiate apparently. Postpone this meeting until August and you wouldn't have seen the difference between this and the NDP, save perhaps what the people shouting and screaming about.

Another interesting part about this is that unlike Repeal 377A, the AWARE AGM doesn't have the government intervening and debating in parliament over it. Perhaps the people are more capable of change than the group that represents said people, huh.

But let's take a step back, shall we? What went wrong? Personally I felt it was an issue of attitude - When you tell your community to "shut up and sit down", it drives the message across that you're not there to serve - you're there to be served. I recall the motto of a particular NGO I worked with last year - if it's not from the heart, it's not worth doing. As appropriately asked during the EGM: "how many of the new exco have passion?"

When you need to claim a right to respect by virtue of your age, you tend to lose the battle of credibility and moral high ground.

Barring opinions of the 'new exco' (given how they got voted off and were replaced with an even newer (yet older) exco during the AGM. Gosh the complications), it's interesting to look at this event from a more generalized view.

Why did so many Singaporeans stand up for this?

Is it because of disagreements with the way the new exco had taken over the old guard?
Is it because of disagreements with the causes of the new exco?
Is it because of disagreements with the actions of the new exco upon taking over?
Is it because someone had broken an unspoken contract of human rights and they felt the need to speak up?

In any case, a good Saturday.

L-O-V-E-L-O-V-E

2009-05-02T22:33:00.002+08:00

陪你熬夜　聊天到爆肝也没关系
陪你逛街　逛成扁平足也没关系
超感谢你　让我重生　整个o-r-z
让我重新认识love

[l-o-v-e!l-o-v-e!]

恋爱ing happy ing
心情就像是　坐上一台喷射机
恋爱ing 改变ing
改变了黄昏　黎明　有你　到心跳到不行

你是空气　但是好闻胜过了空气
你是阳光　但是却能照近半夜里
水能载舟　也能煮粥　为饱了生命
你就是维他命love

[l-o-v-e!l-o-v-e!]

恋爱ing happy ing
心情就像是　坐上一台喷射机
恋爱ing 改变ing
改变了黄昏　黎明　有你　到心跳到不行

黄昏　黎明　整个都恋爱ing

-----------------------------------

I feel 16 again hahaha

I swear the world needs to compile some gigantic list of songs that will immediately get you out of a bad mood

Fragmentations

2009-04-29T21:11:00.003+08:00

Sometimes I feel like a little baba in the world trying to accomplish great things, with nothing but the thought that "wouldn't it be awesome if we pulled this off". It's kinda different from all the people going about thinking "I need this to get into Harvard" or "This had better look good on my CV" - there's a lack of pragmatic drive in it, if you will.

At times it makes me feel like there's a certain lack of purpose in my life. While I justify it at times with the idea that a person who's capable of many different things should just try many different things rather than specializing, really it reeks of lack of direction from certain perspectives.

---------------

Someone asked me why it was good for him to try to be serious when he was generally a joker. When I said that since he was already good at being a joker he should try learning to be serious so he could do both nicely - he considered it schizophrenic.

Hmm. Wonder what that says about me.

Speaking about that, I really wonder whether strangers and acquaintances see me as scary or weird or both.

---------------

The love I see around me feels so insanely bittersweet tragedy-ish. Two I'd have written a tragedy of, one I'd have written a tragicomedy of (pray ask not what the comedy is) and one I'd write a sheer comedy out of (and perhaps stuff it in some heartbroken box under the table)

Of the many things I'm thankful for, one of them stays that I shan't be finding myself in their shoes for very long.

Choral Exchange

2009-04-25T21:40:00.001+08:00

Combined Sounds of Joy is awesome

our choir sucks

nuff said'

Thanks to the Minibus

2009-04-18T23:04:00.003+08:00

On the way back from Jarrel's house, I started to fiddle around with my phone while waiting for the bus to come.

173 came and left and I started chasing it like a madman. Of course, when you chase a bus that's driving in an empty lane you tend to only go for about 200 meters before it goes beyond salvageable distance and you're screwed, but I ran anyway.

As it turned around the bend, I gave up and started walking. Just then, this minibus pulls over along the roadside and the driver signals at me. I think it's a shuttle bus, and tilt my head, wondering what he's saying. He opens the door and tells me to get in. I do, and he tells me he'll help me get to the bus stop in front. He does just that.

Whoever is the driver of the minibus PA10B, thanks very much for the lift. You certainly helped this young'un a lot.

-------------------------------------------------

"when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."
- The Alchemist, Paul Coelho, p. 23

It's a line I think about at times. Does the universe favour those who want something, those who bear conviction? Thinking about individuals living nearly on luck is enough of a counter to the point. Then why does the universe conspire to help you achieve something you want?

When I think about it, perhaps it's not the universe. Perhaps it's the inhabitants of the universe that help you to achieve it. You and I.

When you see the world change, you want to take part in it. It's a bandwagon of change, of a potentially big thing, and this is your chance to join in. Who wouldn't take the chance?

Even if you don't, of course, you could always just give moral support. Let the person know that you're there to help him up when he's down, or something of that sort. It keeps the person going. And human sympathy tends to drive us towards giving moral support to people who are doing big things anyway.

It's rather fascinating to think that people tend to be driven by emotional, rational and natural forces to help people doing things out of the ordinary.

"If a man knows not what harbour he seeks, any wind is the right wind."
- Seneca

Why so? Perhaps because whichever land he ended up on, he would've found men who would help on his journey.

2009-04-11T12:02:00.001+08:00

darghitilostmyphone

Memories of 2008

2009-04-06T16:03:00.002+08:00

Out of coincidence I looked at one of the dead blogs that a classmate of mine kept.

It's rather queer realizing that you completely forgot about how your class used to play bridge in the center of the class and Go Fish at the back. The island in the center of the class for bridge seems so distant a memory now. Tao huey spam also seems like a thing of the past.

Seems like the moment the class settled down they moved on to chapteh and soccer and that's all I really remembered of it. Queer, huh? The first three months.

Addendum: FREAK LAH I WANT WAFFLEBREAD

The failure of living in faith

2009-03-30T19:29:00.004+08:00

It was a thought I only realized recently.

There was an extreme amount of superficiality in the way I've treated life the past two years. It was an interesting thought, no doubt. But I realized the fatal flaw in my treatment and viewpoint on life. And if I'm not wrong, it's probably something that applied to many more people as well, today's pastor included.

It's a thought, but perhaps there is just some intense flaw in living any faith-based lifestyle, secular in nature or not. Christians will shoot me down, of course, but give me some time.

Now, under definition we have two meanings of faith.

religion: a strong belief in a supernatural power or powers that control human destiny; "he lost his faith but not his morality"
complete confidence in a person or plan etc; "he cherished the faith of a good woman"; "the doctor-patient relationship is based on trust"

They're similar but ultimately the first one is very religious in nature and the second one more generalized, inclusive of secular aspects as well. I mean the 2nd one when I refer to faith-based lifestyles.

Now what's the problem with 'complete confidence in a person or plan'? The pastor this morning showed me the problem with people - they betray you eventually. If they don't? They die. The problem with faith in any sentient being or object is that it eventually will perish, and with it your faith and beautiful reason for living. "Each day is wonderful because my wife is always next to me when I wake up and always there to open the door when I go home." Bam. Wife dies. Your life's ruined. Life isn't beautiful anymore.

School fun? You graduate.
Company fun? You get fired.
Relaxing and hanging out fun? Let's see you keep that up.

Then you say; why not an ideology? Hope, for instance. Live life thinking that the next day will always be better. Live life thinking that humanity takes a step forward each and every day. That won't perish, ideologies don't rot and decompose like us humans do. Problem is it's easy to make someone lose faith in an ideology - just prove it wrong. Living with faith in humanity is easy to destroy with people like Siu Fung around. I know it did that for me, and if not for the pastor this morning I'd probably have been worse off for the rest of the week.

Which comes to the essential point. Any faith-based reasoning for living fails ultimately because it's so easy to tear apart. Once you take it away, what do you have? Nothing.

Maybe that's why people turn to God so often, yeah? God won't die on you like a human does, and if you think about it correctly (without any connotation as to whether this "correct" is moral or right) it's hard to prove Him wrong. Yet thinking about it, it's also why people who turn from Christians to Atheists almost never turn back - they cannot place faith in a system where faith is so integral to its functionality.

Now the audience cries - isn't that obvious, o Showman? And perhaps it is. Perhaps everyone already knew that it was impossible to have any sustainable reason for living. Perhaps that's why Carpe Diem is so well-accepted - for all the arguments of Carpe Diem being hedonistic in nature it's not a way of life that will fail you (unless you go against the law while seizing the day. That's another matter altogether)

If there is anyone out there who can live life purely because life is life and we're alive, congrats to you. I pray you live that way for as long as you live, because I cannot think of any way to destroy that single most fundamental ideology.

2009-03-28T19:00:00.000+08:00

ワッド・ザ・ファック。

How far the scum have sunken.

2009-03-27T13:55:00.003+08:00

How far the scum have sunken,
How faithless is the world,
How those of might have fallen,
How comedy unfurls.

----------------------------

The society has been a problem, so to speak. The greed, the deceit, the backstabbing, the debauchery, the desecration of any ideal for whom the forefathers once stood for.

At such an age.

Terrible, isn't it? That a fool has to crossdress in order to whore himself into getting what he needs. Because he can't do it himself.

Poison, I call it. That you taint your friend's honour so. That you make him go against his morals just to affirm his honour - isn't it shameless? That you treat your friend as a tool for your own ends.

-------------------------------------------

If you got the poison, I've got the remedy.

-------------------------------------------

All for a fucking assignment. All because you were scared that I had a bad opinion of you.

Guess what. You did a pretty good job killing whatever hope I had left in you. It takes quite a bit of skill to do that, honestly. But you did it, somehow.

I like Rodney. I think he's a pretty cool guy, hilarious at times, insecure at others but he's a nice guy and a good man at heart. He just has suckass friends like you who put him in horrible positions because he has to cover up for your ass. You know he feels terrible doing that and you know I feel terrible taking it out on him for that.

-------------------------------------------

The remedy is the experience.

-------------------------------------------

Y'know, there're those kind of people who move on in life by stepping on the bodies of others. Those are the masterminds, the backstabbers. The ones you never know were behind the scenes until it's waaaaaaaay too late.

You're not one of them. Don't bother.

The weirdest things

2009-03-23T16:03:00.002+08:00

Sometimes the things we least expect to happen to some people just do happen.

Well, if it takes that once-in-a-lifetime out-of-this-country experience to change your life for the rest of this year, that's what it takes and be glad you got it.

I'll be glad to see next year on the stage too, o Vaudevillian V. Hopefully you don't end up too vindictive by then, vexed by the vox populi.

-------------------------------

Screw it I'm not cut out for trying to make people sound awesome

A list of thankful people

2009-03-22T00:27:00.002+08:00

A LIST HERE I WRITE DOWN FOR PEOPLE WHO ASK ABOUT MATH PORT WITHOUT ANGERING THE GODS:

ANYONE ELSE WHO HAS ASKED ABOUT MATH PORT CONSISTENTLY HAS ANGERED THE GREAT GODS.

----------------------------------------------------

Nah it's not actually that bad there're about 11 people who didn't piss me off while asking. Anyone whom I used cruise control on I was pissed off at, so just take it as is.

To all trolls on my tagboard

2009-03-20T23:13:00.002+08:00

雨宮優子; ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ says:
*nice troll on ur tagboard
素晴らしい人生だから　自分を愛する勇気を持とう says:
*yes
*I wonder where i get these from
*and they all speak and type in proper english
雨宮優子; ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ says:
*i counter trolled him for u
*but yes
*why do they flock to ur blog
素晴らしい人生だから　自分を愛する勇気を持とう says:
*I have no idea
雨宮優子; ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ says:
*can u make like a post telling trolls to go to theendthewhy
*where i will gladly engage in a flame war
*kill 2 birds with 1 stone, u get them off ur tagboard and i get to have some entertainment

As mentioned above by my kind partaker cherilyn, recommendations are made for trolls on my tagboard to head of to theendthewhy for fun trolling, free of charge. I'll add a link at the side so trolls can go there easy

Personally, though, I really do wonder how these kinda people come across the blog. If rickroll's around, do give a story or something. It might be interesting to hear.

Oh, who you actually are might be interesting to hear too, yeah.

A Dream

2009-03-19T09:48:00.003+08:00

Wednesday morning. Ever so peaceful.

He left us that day, never to come again. Of course, only three of us knew. The rest of the world moved on while the three of us had our minute of silence.

It just happened too quickly for words. Before anyone had the chance to comment on anything the world came rushing at them again. The right words never came out because the right time disappeared so quickly.

------------------------------------------------

I saw Jack at the rooftop, staring out at the fields, the road coming in and the cars and students all lined up like little ants in their designated paths. Staring.

"Hey Jack," I asked.

"Yeah, Herr?" he replied. I couldn't continue. I didn't know what to ask.

"Let's go," he said, "assembly's staring in a few minutes."

"...yeah."

------------------------------------------------

"Y'know, Herr, John hasn't been coming to school lately, has he?" Daryl asked me. We were walking down towards the canteen.

"Yeah, guess he hasn't. Wonder what's up with that, huh," I replied. Why did you have to ask me such questions when I couldn't answer them?

Down the staircase, we saw a girl sitting on the benches, all by herself.

"Hey, that's her, isn't it? The girl that John liked. Qing; that's her name, wasn't it?" Daryl headed over. I trailed behind him.

"Hey, Qing." he said.

"Hey there, both of you." she looked at me for a short moment, looking into my eyes, searching for something, something that might have or might not have been there. Then she immediately looked back at Daryl and smiled.

"Hey Qing, where's your Johnny? I thought he's always with you. Did he run off somewhere or something?" he laughed a bit. Qing smiled back at him.

"Perhaps he is. I don't know." she said, smiling. The best disguise anyone could have worn. You never knew what the smile was for - whether it was because she was happy or because she was sad or because she was hiding something. You almost always knew why someone looked sad or angry, but you never knew why someone looked happy.

"Haha, yeah maybe he is," Daryl said, laughing again, the carefree man he was. I nudged him a bit. "Anyway, we're going for recess, so catch you later, yeah?"

As Daryl turned his head around she stopped smiling. It served its purpose.

------------------------------------------------

I was walking back to class. Each step as loud as the other. Mechanical. Lifeless.

"Hey Herr!" I immediately turned around. Could it be? He said it the exact same way. It was Ginny.

"Oh, hey Ginny. What's up?" Right. He did speak a bit high.

"Could you help me out with my math later? I just can't seem to catch how you do Question 6."

"Sure thing, I've done my portfolio since monday, actually."

"Aaah. I should've asked Jack if I could go over and did my work with you guys too. All you smart people." she said, pouting that slight bit. "Anyway, thanks, gotta go now!" and went off.

Mechanical. Lifeless.

------------------------------------------------

The guitar at the back was playing. People were singing along.

"Go Johnny go go
Go Johnny go go
Go Johnny go go
Go Johnny go go
Johnny B. Goode"

I just kept silent throughout.

------------------------------------------------

Mom asked me one day.

"Hey, y'know Herr, there was this guy who kept crashing our house, right? Absolutely loved the cookies I made."

"Yeah. What about Johnny?"

"I kinda wish he'd come more often. There's still quite a bit of cookies around here and you and Gwin don't seem to eat them much."

------------------------------------------------

Jack was staring out at the world again. He did that more often now.

"Hey, Jack," I said.

"Hey, Herr." he replied, still staring out on the rooftop.

"Have you ever wished that this was all a dream?" I asked. "It all seems too unreal."

"And yet it is."

I went back. I wonder what he was thinking, staring out from the rooftop like that.

------------------------------------------------

(Not a real story, but kept as realistic as possible. In fact, completely false if anyone asks. So far the count is two.)

And just whose fault was that

2009-03-13T17:07:00.003+08:00

"Fine! I don't want to come!"

"Our class is how bloody not bonded. Every outing is like. 5 people? How much is this one Herrick"
"Ten"
"Wow. Ten. At least that's half the class."

And whose bloody fault is that

The Ex-SAC

2009-03-10T20:09:00.002+08:00

Walk down the stairs towards the roundabout. Look to the right. The fiberglass panes, the minispiral staircase.

The entire section that didn't exist 4 years ago. What was it like before then, again? It took me more than a minute to remember the image.

I knew there was a ramp. I knew this area was road. I knew this place wasn't like that.

But why couldn't I picture it?

I knew they were there. I couldn't put any mental picture to it. It felt like a scenery I had read in a storybook that was incapable of being pictured in real life realistically.

The ramp that was where the current parade ground is.
The road that every UYO member marched on towards the old parade ground (Now a tiny field of untouched grass).
The substation that used to see the light of day.
The CPA with chairs all worn down and worn out, without a giant cross at the back of the stage to remind you that it served as a chapel on Sundays.
The complete sheltered path from the bus stop to the old block that didn't have zebra crossings in the middle.
The road up to school that was unwalkable because of cars, now flooded with students on the uphill climb.
The 2.12-2.14 '05 classrooms with a nice mini-courtyard just outside for anything under the sun, gone for the library.
The co-op that was along the route from 2.12 to the SAC, now replaced by the lower floor of the library. It always seemed far friendlier.
The old flagposts on Drong's hill (now a mere shadow of its former glorious self) where commands were heard by all, where flagraisers were seen by all and commanders felt like they were truly commanding. (The old parade ground felt similar too, actually. Something about the new parade ground just didn't give that feel.) Where commanding felt like an honour bestowed upon you.

All so alien. All as if it never existed. All because I've been here as it kept changing. Around me, against me, alongside me. Just like the subtle changes in myself I'd never have noticed.

They were so huge, yet so unnoticable.

There is good in the world

2009-03-08T23:47:00.002+08:00

Some inevitabilities aren't inevitable. It's a matter of viewpoint.
Some impossibilities aren't impossible. It's a matter of trying.
Some miracles aren't miracles. It's a matter of faith.

There is good in the world.

A Tragedy

2009-03-07T00:08:00.000+08:00

As I type this a tragedy occurs. A breaking up, a breaking down, a breaking apart.

A tragedy because it may have been inevitable. When I hear the situation I realize that it was almost impossible for either party to change.

A miracle can occur. But there needs to be a reason for a miracle to exist. There needs to be a reason for a miracle to need to exist.

You just can't pray for a miracle.

It feels so helpless being the observer at times. It feels so helpless being forced to be an observer. It feels so helpless knowing that being the observer is the only way not to make things worse on any end.

I can't pray for a miracle. I can only pray that it doesn't hurt that much.

Duty

2009-03-02T21:32:00.005+08:00

When you try your best to do something as nicely as possible yet within the boundaries of what's actually possible it feels like you did a good job. I mean, you did the best that you could, and you're trying to make things as perfect as possible without asking for the impossible.

Then some guy comes up to you and sighs because you didn't do things beyond the boundaries.

Not that I'm pissed off with the guy or anything, but it's a tad demoralizing to hear such stuff when you're the one putting in the effort. Not because he isn't putting in any effort, but because he's right. It's sad how the boundaries can't be broken just because you want them to. It's harder than that. And it's quite sad that you're forced to work around them rather than face them head on.

Even if you try your best.

Fragmented Thoughts

2009-03-01T10:13:00.002+08:00

It's been a rather busy week so I've only been able to blog about the day's events at a later point.

Cross country gave me a rather scary thought which I only managed to link up with an earlier event at a later point in time.

This year, there were thousands more injuries than the year before - despite being held at the same location, too. Figures, huh. For the note, there was only one injury last year, and my group handled it. This year, however, abrasions were aplenty. Fainting too. And falling down and the like. I think the main problem was forgetting to tell each station to make sure runners don't bloody run on the gratings.

That aside, the first casualty was a somewhat annoying bugger I knew (He wasn't too buggerish to me, personally. I just hear he is to many) who got four abrasions - both knees, left elbow, stomach. I don't even know how he got the one on the stomach.

I took out the alcohol swabs, and started wiping his knee. Unsurprisingly, he started cringing a lot. JAng wiped the other knee, and he was like owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww and so on. My first comment? "Bear with it. The stomach one may hurt even more."

Only at the end of the event did I realize how absolutely nonchalant I sounded saying that. What would he have felt hearing that? I'm not sure. It's a duty to care for a person's injuries but just as much a duty to care for the person himself, and I seemed to have forgotten the latter after all the injuries came along.

Was I desensitized to his feelings because of what I knew him to be? Because I'd seen these kind of stuff before and knew exactly what to do? Because I wasn't going to panic in the least bit while looking for the alcoholic swabs?

When I remembered my pain in the hospital and how much I hated the staff nurses that I realized that it wasn't their fault, but the nature of their job. It was inevitable that they would turn nonchalant to it all. To the cries of pain. To the plea asking them to stop for now.

It just turns into another job.

---------------------------------------------

Choral exchange was a painful reconciling with my past. Not that I don't stand by my actions (I don't actually, I just take responsibility for them) but sometimes I just felt it was kind of wasted and all. I do admit I felt he was a terribly annoying person and an absolute bugger to be around but I didn't have as much of an issue with him as .10 did. If I do admit it? It felt kind of stupid wasting a friendship over the other person being a bugger. I'd be killing friends all over if that happened, and I'm pretty sure other friends would be killing me all over if they had a similar attitude.

Well, it's good to know he's doing well in a new place. Just a pity I got to know him before that and saw him in the light that everyone had seen him. Wasted, but I have to live with it I guess.

For some people, it just isn't worth breaking friendships with, even if they seem to have problems here and there - their intelligence tends to make up for it, and truly smart people are always rarer than truly nice people.

---------------------------------------------

Speaking of that, it seems another friend is giving up on a rare opportunity for reasons pertaining to the people around him.

I won't say that I'm not partially at fault for creating such a situation in the first place, but personally it seems too much of a waste to give up such a good opportunity. To work with such a person.

Really, some things aren't worth abandoning no matter the reason. I better get something done soon. I just hope that this doesn't turn out to be more difficult than I expect it to be.

I PASSED JLPT

2009-02-25T20:33:00.000+08:00

I PASSED JLPT 2 WOOT

Demel is a happy bunny. Wai~

Now there's only H1 A-Level to care about. Gogogo!

Knowing the events or the shape

2009-02-19T20:13:00.003+08:00

In a discussion with a friend in regards to knowledge about people, we came a question of interest.

Given a choice between the shape of a human life (the perspectives, the outlooks, the opinions) and the significant events and turning points of it, which would you have rather picked?

The friend argued to me that the events of a person's life shape the life of the person, and if you knew the shape of the person's life it means that you know pretty much the same thing as anyone who knew the events, save said actual events themselves. I conceded that as somewhat true.

"I know him", he said, referring to a particular subject in question.

Yet, the assumption seemed to be that the subject would have been the way he was even without any event to shape his life. At least, when I asked about any possible event that could have shaped said subject, and the friend seemed to reply negatively.

"What's there?" he said, referring to the life of the subject.

There are reasons for everything, weak or strong, or many to one. Whether he says it or not, something has caused a person to be acting that way. And in certain cases, it need not even be conscious on part of the person. At least, that's what I believe. >_>

To say you know someone's actions and beliefs and mannerisms and not know why he acts that way acts counter to knowing the person, doesn't it? At the very least, I find it paralleling one dismissing the acts of a problem child as problematic and never finding out why they were problematic or why said child is a problem child in the first place. Queer, innit?

My point was that knowing the events that shaped a person's life allowed you to know about the shape of the person's life and why exactly it ended up that way. (Another friend shot the argument down later by asking what I would do if the person was a stranger I knew only via MSN, but ah well). Furthermore, it worked even for subconscious shaping of a person's life, a point rather evident to me since someone actually guessed (correctly, too) a rather - well, not say unknown but something I don't really talk about - event in my life just like that, figuring out why I changed as a result of that event.

It's really just a bunch of rambles and all, but there's a rather interesting question at the bottom of this.

Do you know a person if you know only the shape of his life and not why he ended up like that?
Do you know a person if you know the significant events of his life but have to guess the effect it had on him?

The Company

2009-02-15T08:28:00.000+08:00

The weirdest way to spend Valentine's day. Ever.

It's still a bit scary how I get myself into these kinds of things. Except this time, it's a lot scarier thinking about what would happen if we managed to pull this off.

Meetings are going to serious/hilarious shit.

The State of Choir

2009-02-12T21:59:00.002+08:00

It's been tiring. It's been surprisingly unproductive at times. And at times I really question what the heck I've been doing in it all this time.

Tomorrow's the first performance I'll be taking part in. For the year 5s. To be honest, I can't believe the state of it all.

At times I wonder why Levin brought me into a choir that seems to me as lacking in morale and faith. I can't come up with a good reason why, honestly. Perhaps he doesn't have one either.

I hope I find myself a good reason soon.

Thaipusam

2009-02-08T17:10:00.003+08:00

Sometimes marvellous transformations take place in areas you frequent. One would be the Dhoby Ghaut area. Be it Christmas or Chinese New Year, the decorations of the season always lend the area a festive sense of the time at hand. The people seemed the same, though. Passers-by walking along the same street. Shoppers. Well, it was inevitable - the reason for the season tends to be commercial and centred around selling merchandise, so everyone around would do what they were meant to do in a shopping district. Shop. >_>

Today seemed rather different though. It's exactly the opposite of the other two aforementioned events. For one, there wasn't any pre-season decorations (let alone date back to one month before said holiday a la Nov/Dec). For another, there weren't any decorations period (In retrospect I think it'd be pretty funny). For a third, the people around weren't the same as the usual season would expect. It was the complete opposite.

Perhaps I'm being racist here but I'm more used to seeing the pathways full of Chinese, so it's always a bit of a shocker to find something quite completely different going on.

Then again, the awe of Thaipusam comes in the procession, especially since during the procession you can walk right next to them. It's really quite different seeing the kavadis in pictures in books and seeing them in real life. There's the mystical marvel at everything going on. The hooks pierced on the man that are bound by rope to the cart at the back (another person carries the rope so the man doesn't actually have to pull the cart, but the thought is still rather frightening), the silver-ringed staff in his hands (golden snake nicely wrapped around the head for an adornment similar to Asclepius) that clangs with every tap against the floor, with every step that he took, with every step that I took. It's a mysterious feeling just walking beside them and in pace with them, as if you're participating in the procession as well.

It kind of keeps you remembering the fact that even though certain races are statistically minorities, they're all still important folk in the picture and all take the limelight at some point of time.

Of course, the irony in the entire proceedings was that I was on the path they were going at until we deviated - they continued on the path along Park Mall while I crossed the road to church. Interesting events for a Sunday morning, no doubt.

Life Of The Beginning of February

2009-02-03T20:06:00.002+08:00

I was going to type out a story but then I realized that was my Commonwealth Essay and I shouldn't be posting that up. Meh. And it's only 800 words right now at time of writing this post anyway >_>

Life of February has been bundled with a lot of randomness as opposed to actual events. The spoiling of a GDC, the epicness of a domino-filled practical, the awesome celebration of a friend's birthday (Though admittedly that was in Jan),

It's been a short month, but somehow it's been keeping me from writing on this blog. To think I've still so much other work to clear that touching the blog seems a tempting but difficult option at times.

Choices

2009-01-25T00:05:00.002+08:00

The first month has nearly gone, and with it the beginnings of a number of choices.

The first was that of joining choir. It was a most bizzare choice considering that I have lost a lot of my time to it (3/5th my after-school hours are gone now) yet I don't really particularly regret it when I actually go for practise sessions. Kind of like kendo when I first started; though my Wednesdays were completely burnt and turned into wasted days (or Most Unproductive Days, as dn/dy would put it), I kind of didn't mind. In fact, it was pretty fun. And this is pretty fun too.

The second choice was that of stopping Kendo for now (hopefully not forever). I ended up missing a lot of sessions in December and November, a rather terrible outcome. I think I'm currently so out of it that I'm rather afraid to go back anytime soon. After all, even my feet seem to have healed completely. It's a waste, though. I wonder how far the rest of those who are still continuing have gone.

The third choice (not really one) was that of being chairman. It's given me rather queer thoughts about the differences between chairs and sofas, and whether sofas can be chairs and chairs can be sofas. There's also the question of why the chair became the sofa why the sofa seemed to be turning into a chair (maybe it's an issue of chairishing. Then again I doubt so.) and whether the sofa actually tried to turn into a chair or not. But well, a chair's a chair and a sofa's a sofa whether or not they try to turn into each other or not. I think I do a decent job, being a rather chairitable person and all. I think so at least.

I wonder what other choices I'll be making along the way. It's been a long way and the number of forks left are whittling down to to the single split at the end -

success or not.

I wonder how much I can achieve without compromising it all. Now that's a thought, isn't it.

Piano Man - The Old Man

2009-01-13T23:10:00.003+08:00

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday night. The regulars are shuffling into their usual seats, while John the bartender prepares the drinks for them. Paul and Davy are chatting at the side, John's cracking a joke with a newcomer while fixing up a Martini for him, the waitresses are fluttering around. The faces move in and out. And across all the time, an old man sits by me, staring into space.

John makes his way over to him. "Here's your Tonic and Gin, mister." The man nods and stares blankly into the drink, into the lime amongst the ice. Perhaps his life has been equally lost. He takes a sip every once in a while, but his face never shows any expression. No sadness. No happiness. He looks at me, staring into my eyes blankly like an empty doll would.

"Is something the matter, sir?" I ask, cordially as possible. He just stares at me.

"Son, are you the pianist around here?"

"Yes, I am. Would you want me to play something you fancy, sir?" His face stays emotionless. Expressionless. He stares.

"Son, can you play me a memory?" A sip of the gin, and a face slightly dimmed.

"What kind of memory?" His eyes stay on the glass in front of him, never once moving to me.

"I don't know son." and we kept silent. He continued to stare at the drink.

"Sir, why Tonic and Gin?" I try to make some conversation, but he continues to stare at the drink, not replying.

Slowly, he looks up at me.

"Son, will you listen to a memory? A bittersweet memory of the youth that I had." I said yes to him, and his face showed the slightest hint of a smile.

"I was once your age, son. A young man with talent, emotion, the power to sway people. Most important of all, though. I had a love. Violet - her name if I recall. A simple girl, and a beautiful girl. A wonderful life I led. She was a beautiful woman I'd have lived my life for, and I sincerely wished to spend my life with her." He took another sip of the drink, then procured a silver ring with a small, exquisite amethyst at its tip.

"This was her favourite drink, Gin and Tonic. A sweet, simple drink. I asked her out one night, ring in hand. I came early and asked John to place the ring inside her cocktail beforehand. Change it to a flute glass too, while I was at it." Another sip of his gin, eyes still looking down.

"She never came." he said with a wistful tone to his voice, and a resigned swirl of his tonic and gin. He then looked at me.

"Do you know why the call this a tonic and gin, son?" I didn't know.

"Because it's made of tonic water and gin?" he swirled the drink in his hand again, staring into it.

"Take a sip, son." And he handed the drink to me. It was bitter, yet slightly sweet.

"It used to be a cure, son. A cure for malaria. Tonic water used to have quanine inside it to kill malaria, but slowly it became more sweet and less medicinal. And now, all it can cure is this heart of mine. This heart that bled to death ages ago." He looked at me again.

"Son, can you play me a memory?"

"What kind of memory, sir?"

"I don't know what kind of memory it is. But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete when I wore a younger man's clothes." I stood up and sat at the piano.

As I played, he continued to stare at the drink. What did he ever see in the drink? My eyes remain fixed while the melody flows, but he never shifts his vision. Slowly, he begins to cry. He says something, but the melody of the piano drowns out his words.

He smiles, even if for just the briefest moment, and cries immeasurably. I wonder what memory he had remembered.

-------------------------------------------------

Based off the song.

Gullibility

2009-01-07T21:40:00.003+08:00

Some minutes of life just seem strangely amusing.

----------------------------

Jarrel sees my bro's retainers.

Jarrel: Are those your retainers?

Gwin: No, they're Herrick's.

Jarrel: You had retainers?!

Herrick: You didn't know?

Jonny: Oh man I didn't know that.

Gwin: He's had them for quite a while, you know.

Herrick: Yeah. Quite a long time already. I just don't wear them in school.

Jarrel: Uh huh.

Herrick: Nor when you guys are around.

Jarrel: Uh huh.

Jonny: Ok...

Herrick: Nor when I go out with you guys.

Jonny: ...

Herrick: Nor when I go over to friend's houses and sleep over. Nor when you guys sleep over here.

Gwin: Yeah. You get it, right?

Jarrel: ...so it's night only?

Jonny: ...no man Jarrel it means you're freaking gullible.

Jarrel: What?

Herrick: You know, I'd have to wear braces before I wore retainers, yeah?

Jarrel: You know right. I never knew Jeremy Goh wore retainers?

Herrick: ...you never saw him wear braces?

Jarrel: I didn't know him then.

Herrick: ......and you thought I wore braces when? P1?

Jarrel: Could be what!

Jonny: That is some screwed up teeth.

Gwin: Or maybe you're just really gullible Jarrel.

Jonny: Well, it's ok. The word 'gullible' can't even be found in the dictionary in the first place.

Jarrel: Really?

--------------------------------------------------------

For someone so smart, he's really quite dumb.

Messages

2009-01-05T23:27:00.002+08:00

It has been a most interesting way to begin the year.

I've had messages and signs constantly coming into my life. Though I suppose the first one was last December, I've had 3 consecutive messages over the days as of recent (Technically 4, but one's a bit of a lesser message.) and 4 in total (Technically 5 for aforementioned reasons)

The first message was predominantly a message from the past. It was a message to kill off a past me in the hopes that a new self would come around and take over for 2009. A message from a present self about an old self to my present self (potentially mistaken as my old self) and a most interesting one indeed. A painful message, bittersweet in nature, and perhaps a bit of underlying reminiscence and nostalgia and thankfulness. It was a message that signalled to me that 2009 was definitely coming and I was definitely in need of changing. That the old self was undesirable in some sense of the word and that something new was required to take over. Perhaps it was the first message to bring me to the current state that I am at this current point in time.

The second message is a queer one, and in retrospect a rather ironic and comical one. It was a message that whether or not I had changed, there would be aspects of me that stayed. Certain things I was capable of. Things that people could see. Talents, flaws, capabilities and the rest of the character package. Though I admit I've tried to escape from such responsibilities once, I suppose such things come back to haunt me. Is it a curse or a blessing or a mere reminder? The message is certainly a queer one, and one that brings with it new responsibilities, possibilities and perspectives to bring for the new year. A most interesting message brought from the present world to my present self.

The third message was a beautiful celebration, a most wonderful ceremony. In this message I learnt for myself what true love was for other people, or at the very least my interpretation of such. I realized what it was like for someone to truly love another person. It was pure, most unlike the kinds of love I had seen prior. An exaggeration perhaps, but the message was a lucid one to me. It was a message towards my present self; a message that brought understanding to the idea and concept I had so mistakenly thought of prior. The message also showed to me that time passes by ever so quickly, but human ties do not break so easily. It taught me that people outside of occupation are people, that everyone is human and everyone can partake in celebration and happiness in such a beautiful event. And in a sense, it taught me to be patient as life shall eternally provide. A beautiful message from the present world to myself and the world that lies before me - a present from the past for the future.

The fourth message is the most ambiguous, vague and troubling one. It was a message on faith, on social inertia, and on motivations. It was a message from the past to the present, from the present to the future, and from the future to the current self. All this caused by the past. It was a message that required a reply from me, at least mentally and spiritually. No doubt, a difficult message to deal with. It spoke of the past and the change to the present. It spoke of the changes of the present and the potential changes towards the future. And most importantly, it posed a very important message to me - that the people around me had answers towards the potential changes towards the future, and these answers in themselves were changes towards the future. No doubt I would have to join them and take a stand as to what change towards the future I would have to take.

The fifth and final message is one mystical in nature. It is an abstract message, one in reference to my present and my future (the latter particularly). A series of predictions, perhaps. One more reliable than Darrell's bugger rickroll at the very least. This message provided quite a bit of food for thought for me. Why? I can provide no clear answer. Was it because it gave an interesting outlook on the future? Was it because it gave a very reasonable and expectable outlook on it? I am unsure at current. But there is something particularly interesting in the message bearer - a lovelorn lady. What were her thoughts on it? What kind of life does she think I - and everyone else - will lead? Will I ever meet these people again? I am unsure. But as vague and out-of-line it might have been with the future, it has been disturbingly accurate with regards to the present.

Another story for the implications of them, but they are most interesting messages to start a year with indeed.

Mr and Mrs. Mark Tay

2009-01-03T22:56:00.002+08:00

It's been a most beautiful wedding. The most wonderful I've seen in my life. (Skeptics who say I have lived a short life should know that adults felt the same way, albeit 'amongst the most' instead of 'most'.)

What made it so special? Was it the song? The purity and truth in its lines and lyrics?

Perhaps it's a bit of the lyrics. A song about the friend we had in Jesus. About what life really is. About Jesus. A friend who's there and will care for you and shoulder all your burdens. A beautiful song for a beautiful ceremony.

Was it the pastor? The meditation was charming, truthful and beautiful, even if it were informal at times.

Perhaps it's a bit of the pastor. Though her talking I knew that even moreso than as a pastor overseeing a marriage, she seemed like a mother, a caring wise mother of a handsome man and a beautiful woman. But what could the pastor alone do?

But I think the one most beautiful aspect of it was the bride and the groom themselves. The fact that it seemed so much like a wedding, yet so much unlike it at the same time. There was nothing fake about it. There was no need to pretend. No formalities despite the formality. The groom and bride really were the happiest and luckiest people on Earth that very moment. It didn't feel as much like a wedding as much as like a celebration. I realize a wedding is a celebration, but the word wedding feels more ceremonial in nature. It's different to me altogether.

The bride's bouncy nature, the groom's cheerful reciprocation of it, and more importantly the fact that we all know that that's how they act all the time. The fact that you don't really actually have to wait for a pastor to say you may kiss the bride to kiss her. That you don't need to just stay in place all the way and wait for visual cues and all sorts of stuff. There was a natural feel to it (this belittles the entire thing. I'm sorry)

What is a marriage? Two people coming together and living together for eternity, isn't it? Then why the need for formality? Why the need for putting up fronts? Why the trouble to say 'I do'?

I believe I truly saw love in every action they made. I believe the entire church-worth of guests did too. I believe they will be happy.

As little as I may know you two, I wish for eternal happiness for the both of you. Congratulations, Mr and Mrs. Mark Tay.

New Year - Heads

2009-01-01T22:36:00.002+08:00

Finally a new year. A new beginning.

It's been painful, it's been sweet, it's been hard but it's complete.

Yet something doesn't really change.

It's always beautiful. All of it. Friends. Family. Love. Faith. Hope. Joy. Reason. Motivation. Even pain.

It's queer, but I still love all of it. The world around me. The friends I have. The state I'm in (Maybe not =P)

But really, it's been a great world to live in and all. Don't you think so? No matter how painful it feels at times, it's hard to really honestly say you hate all of it. Because everything goes on, good or bad. And in the end, the world's still the world. And I love the world.

I would write thanks to everyone but I'm lazy. So there. =p

New Year - Tails

2009-01-01T21:41:00.003+08:00

And it's nearly the end of the first day of New Year's.

And it's the first year I didn't end with Owaranai Ashita He. (addendum: apparently I didn't last year. Hmm)

Looking at the posts of last Christmas, I realized that I really spent three hundred and fucking sixty five days to clear it up. How terrible of me.

Only now do I realize that I'd been emotionally stuck in the pits for so long. I'd never even noticed. Funny how that works.

What are the costs of aiming to feel alive? The fact that you would wish you were dead.
What are the costs of having hope? The fact that you would wish you had never hoped.
What are the costs of bearing faith? The fact that faith would betray you so.

Why do you want to have hope? Because with hope you can continue, persist, triumph.
Why do you want to have faith? Because you believe in a person, an organization, an idealology.

Then, why do you want to feel alive?

Is it because you want meaning in life?
Is it because you're afraid of mundaneness?
Is it because you're don't want to feel dead?

Do you want to share a story with someone?
Do you want to share a life with someone?
Do you want to share a tomorrow with someone?

Why? Must your story be told?
Must your life be paired?
Must your tomorrow be alongside someone else?

It's a long climb uphill.

How long before you stop walking hand in hand?
How long before you start letting go of them?
How long before you start losing the people you walk alongside with?
How long before even a trace of their shadow is gone?

How long before you realize you're alone?
How long before you wonder how long you've walked?
How long before you wish you could turn around?

How long before you start stepping on others?
How long before the path is painted red?

How long before you reach the top?

It's been a bittersweet year. So sweet. So very sweet. So very, very bitter.

The Other Side

2008-12-29T02:02:00.002+08:00

Kuro: Is it only on such a night that we would converse like this?

Shiro: Perhaps so. But I'd put the blame on you anyway.

Kuro: For what?

Shiro: Being an annoying person who refuses to show himself in the day, that's what.

Kuro: You know me. I can't do something like that.

Shiro: And what makes you think I can do the same for night? I'm bearing with you here, you know?

Kuro: I completely sincerely apologize for that, then.

Shiro: Thanks. It's been a great year, hasn't it?

Kuro: Indeed it has. To be able to meet you at last. Though I probably could have lived perfectly fine without ever meeting you at all.

Shiro: Indeed the same for me. But encounters always brighten up the life of anyone, do they not?

Kuro: Perhaps for you it does. Someone like me is more accustomed to solitary night.

Shiro: That's no nice. Kinda like you to ruin the fun in stuff, isn't it?

Kuro: And kinda like you to ruin the golden silence and beauty of it all, isn't it.

Shiro: It really has been annoying to see your side of things, you know that? Maybe I'm staring to turn into you as well. Emo freak.

Kuro: At least I know I won't be turning into one of your kind as well, huh. For once I'm rather thankful for something like that. Though I have to think pretty hard to think of anything worth being thankful for.

Shiro: Man. Hard to believe it, huh. Despite our complete oppositeness we still seem to gel so well with each other.

Kuro: Indeed. We have to thank her.

Shiro: She gave us the ability to see beyond the horizon. See the other side.

Kuro: See the other world which we'd never thought of, never seen before.

Shiro: I wonder what my life would be if I'd never met her, never met you? Would I still eternally remain the self that I had been? Would it have been a good life? Or would I have eternally been blind, like what you called me?

Kuro: At least I know what mine would have been like. One without illusion or ideal. The coldest truth, the sharpest knife, to carve away the farce in life. Nothing to stop me from seeing what is. But perhaps the pot calls the kettle black; perhaps I was just as blinded as you had been.

Shiro: In everything, joyful as it was, if I saw deep enough, I would see you.

Kuro: In everything, despaired as it as, if I saw deep enough, I would see you. Do I see you because you exist, or do you exist because I see you? I wonder at times.

Shiro: I see you in everything. Must you exist in everything? Was there - will there - ever anything that was devoid of you; of me; of either of us? I wonder too.

Kuro: But in the end, at the conclusion of the year, I realize that where I could only see with my eyes I could now see with yours. Perhaps that is worth being thankful for.

Shiro: Of course it is. And despite the thanks, there still lays the despair of having to see things from the other end.

Kuro: Indeed. but in the end, it has been a good year, for I was able to see you.

Shiro: It has been a good year.

Christmas

2008-12-25T23:58:00.002+08:00

This year I finally learnt a lot of stuff.

I will never get used to not being able to spend Christmas with my extended family. It's honestly rather painful. It's a world apart from me. And I will never understand how people can spend Christmas bumming around at home. I guess it's my upbringing.

Carolling has been an important part of my life for these seasons as well. Having nothing to do with any choir performances in December is honestly rather painful (I didn't actually realize that I repeated words so I'll keep it as is) especially given the fact that I actually practised the song only to find out I would be in the Highlands during the performance date. Gosh.

Even though there are friends and people around whom I dislike and think are absolutely retarded at times, there're all the other times where they're awesome and hilarious and generally good buds to hang out with. That's why they're my friends. And that's why I love them in any case.

Even though sometimes life doesn't seem to give you what you want, it just means that you'd have to go find your way around not slacking on your ass and hoping it would come for you.

That sometimes you have to say 'yes' to doing something new. That bad results don't necessarily follow doing things out of the comfort zone, out of the status quo.

That I am truly a blessed child.

It has been a good Christmas, if only for one thing.

Thank you.

Cameron Highlands

2008-12-22T02:18:00.002+08:00

And I have finally returned from the Cameron Highlands >_>

To be honest, it's like a land of tea and sceneries and nothing much apart from that. And summore got two bugger cousins (one in a very annoying sister-you'd-never-want-to-have manner and one in a disturbingly cute imouto-you-would-consider-having manner) who keep going kor kor this kor kor that. Only one of them says it nicely though. DAAAAH I think I shouldn't write such things. Ah well >_>

Personally though looking at them I wonder what the hell Sis' kids are gonna be like in the future. In fact, I don't even know what genders they're going to be. It could be twin boys (AAAAAH NOOO) or twin girls (Awesome but painful) or one of both sexes (ultimate in terms of awesomeness and probability)

I'm pretty glad for her, really. Though the thought of two babies running around in my house (my mom wants to take care of them and considering my sis and Sooi Yuan it's a very smart decision) sometime next year is a very scary thought. Imagine after NS they'll be like

Child: KOR KOR (climbs onto head)
Watashi: leave me alone >_> (puts child down)
Child: WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH KOR KOR DAO MEEEEEEEEE (cries)
Mom: 治平啊让他玩啦
Watashi: >_>

Ok. You know what? Kids are scary stuff. I think.

Chained Wings

The tragedy of the human world around me

Seasons we Serve

Rainbows in Airdrops

soap bar FML

Thoughts on ACR

POP

Snippets of Army - Night Firing

Snippets of Army

Receiving Rifle

Me and Religion

Random story

A sad state of Affairs

Surreality

A few years down from the past

IB Results

2010

Christmas

Resident Tourists

Trust and Knowledge

MFA Talk

REST

A day before

Mugggg

FUCKYEAH NO COMMANDOS

Final Marks for Prelims (Public)

Farewell Chapel, and A Recollection

暇な日々

Thank God for Friends

Failure of Admissions

Eagles

Chapter: Not Exactly The Last

Why do I want to take Psychology?

NO RAGNAROK ONLINE

グードモーニング・エー・シー

彼と彼女

Teacher's Day Eve

The Future

O U Bugger

Fuckyear IOC Over

Peace in mind, ironically

西野 奴へ

18th birthday

Random musings

Memories - Neighbourhood

Exams

A letter from the past; a letter from the future

Jubeat 4th Placing

End of Midyears

Dere for collegeboard

What are exams to us?

TROLLED SO BAD

Vienna

A summary of the hols

EQ and IQ

Of Cards and Poker

SG MBAA

Death of a Convict

SYF

AWARE

L-O-V-E-L-O-V-E

Fragmentations

Choral Exchange

Thanks to the Minibus

Memories of 2008

The failure of living in faith

How far the scum have sunken.

The weirdest things

A list of thankful people

To all trolls on my tagboard

A Dream

And just whose fault was that

The Ex-SAC

There is good in the world

A Tragedy

Duty

Fragmented Thoughts

I PASSED JLPT

Knowing the events or the shape

The Company

西野　奴へ