"Diazepam has a range of side effects which are common to most benzodiazepines. Most common side effects include:
...
- Depression"
Um. Probably not the best thing for me to take right now, too late anyway.
I like how it says 'MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS' on my packet of sleeping pills.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
One of the most terrible things to come down with a bout of is insomnia. Since Friday night any scant sleep that I am able to obtain has been filled with ambiguous fast paced dreams which make me wake up feeling wide awake - and having the feeling of not having slept at all.
Then there is the problem of the more conventional insomnia, being unable to sleep till the wee hours of the night because not only do you not feel tired, you feel wide awake and end up rolling about bed.
In the morning when I wake up, I feel unnaturally wide awake mentally, but my body feels like it is dying. The eyebags I've been carting about the past few days have never been bigger in my life.
As a result I've been feeling rather disjointed emotionally and mentally - yes I'm awake but I can't really process much thought. I'm also more prone to being affecting by outside stimuli so these past few days have been see saw-ey.
Anyway since tonight is an eve of a public holiday, I'll take the sleeping pills that I have been refusing to take for the past few days and hopefully get out of this sleep-less rut. I also watched Prozac Nation today, and I must say it does scare me how I see parts of myself there.
Then there is the problem of the more conventional insomnia, being unable to sleep till the wee hours of the night because not only do you not feel tired, you feel wide awake and end up rolling about bed.
In the morning when I wake up, I feel unnaturally wide awake mentally, but my body feels like it is dying. The eyebags I've been carting about the past few days have never been bigger in my life.
As a result I've been feeling rather disjointed emotionally and mentally - yes I'm awake but I can't really process much thought. I'm also more prone to being affecting by outside stimuli so these past few days have been see saw-ey.
Anyway since tonight is an eve of a public holiday, I'll take the sleeping pills that I have been refusing to take for the past few days and hopefully get out of this sleep-less rut. I also watched Prozac Nation today, and I must say it does scare me how I see parts of myself there.
Monday, April 28, 2008
There is something most dehumanising and disturbing (alas my vocabulary fails me) with having your name being changed to another. For example my hairdresser calling me Melissa and the counselor calling me Melanie. I didn't want to correct them because I didn't want to make them embarrassed, but at the same time I derive a vague sort of desired detachment away from who I really am. Who's seeing a counselor? Melanie Wong is.
-----
I felt odd sitting there in the room. Sitting in a seat where I expect young rape/molest/incest victims once sat. I felt undeserving - you don't belong here! There are kids so much more worse off than you. I felt like a fraud. A fraud with OCD tendencies.
The walls were painted a light sage green with toys crammed into little nooks and crannies. A Sesame Street toy was perched atop a divider, filled with primary coloured plasticky happiness. A well handled transformer head sat at the far end of the desk, the silver paint rubbed off to show a dull curdled milk colour underneath. It looked a little sad. The transformer head was placed next to some folders in bright bursts of fuchsia which was ostensibly cheerful and made my head spin a little.
On the computer screen I saw my file open. As she kept turning around to answer her handphone, I kept peeking at screen. My address had been keyed in wrongly. I had to resist the urge to lean over and change it, but stopped it least I actually appear dysfunctional to a counselor. This drew my attention to the black keyboard, the colour accentuated by the small particles of whitegrey dust sticking to the side and larger dust bunnies between the cracks of the keys. Again I had to fight yet another urge, this time to wipe off the dust.
Outside waiting in the corridor, blatantly waiting for the counselor, I kept thinking of Sylvia Plath. I stared right ahead, face blank and devoid of all emotion for I had felt none whatsoever. I felt the people walking past me. Some seemed to quicken their pace to get past me, others I felt their pitying/scathing judgments as they walked past then there were those who completely ignored my presence and made me feel transparent and insignificant. Whatever it was, no one was really keen to see me there.*
-----
On another most disconcerting note, I have quite lost all possible respect for my mother. Ordinarily I'd be most angry over this unnamed matter, but it is frankly so shocking and disappointing (though not 100% unexpected) that I really have no feeling towards it left. It just is.
Furthermore the AIA website is quite a pain in the ass to navigate - exactly what are they doing with those funds if they can't even hack together a proper website? I also foresee myself receiving lots of Robinson vouchers from now on. I suspect they have some sort of dodgy agreement with AIA.
*(yes I came back and edited this bit on the 30/4/08 because it kept bugging me how badly I had phrased it)
-----
I felt odd sitting there in the room. Sitting in a seat where I expect young rape/molest/incest victims once sat. I felt undeserving - you don't belong here! There are kids so much more worse off than you. I felt like a fraud. A fraud with OCD tendencies.
The walls were painted a light sage green with toys crammed into little nooks and crannies. A Sesame Street toy was perched atop a divider, filled with primary coloured plasticky happiness. A well handled transformer head sat at the far end of the desk, the silver paint rubbed off to show a dull curdled milk colour underneath. It looked a little sad. The transformer head was placed next to some folders in bright bursts of fuchsia which was ostensibly cheerful and made my head spin a little.
On the computer screen I saw my file open. As she kept turning around to answer her handphone, I kept peeking at screen. My address had been keyed in wrongly. I had to resist the urge to lean over and change it, but stopped it least I actually appear dysfunctional to a counselor. This drew my attention to the black keyboard, the colour accentuated by the small particles of whitegrey dust sticking to the side and larger dust bunnies between the cracks of the keys. Again I had to fight yet another urge, this time to wipe off the dust.
Outside waiting in the corridor, blatantly waiting for the counselor, I kept thinking of Sylvia Plath. I stared right ahead, face blank and devoid of all emotion for I had felt none whatsoever. I felt the people walking past me. Some seemed to quicken their pace to get past me, others I felt their pitying/scathing judgments as they walked past then there were those who completely ignored my presence and made me feel transparent and insignificant. Whatever it was, no one was really keen to see me there.*
-----
On another most disconcerting note, I have quite lost all possible respect for my mother. Ordinarily I'd be most angry over this unnamed matter, but it is frankly so shocking and disappointing (though not 100% unexpected) that I really have no feeling towards it left. It just is.
Furthermore the AIA website is quite a pain in the ass to navigate - exactly what are they doing with those funds if they can't even hack together a proper website? I also foresee myself receiving lots of Robinson vouchers from now on. I suspect they have some sort of dodgy agreement with AIA.
*(yes I came back and edited this bit on the 30/4/08 because it kept bugging me how badly I had phrased it)
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Wow I feel so horrifically creeped out, disturbed and chilled now. Also sort of hungry.
I finally drank alcohol on Friday night, since I turned 18. It was a Vodka Sprite (which The Alchemist insists is wonderfully befitting of me) and somehow reminded me of water. The bunch of us other celebrating JLC's birthday sat opposite these bunch of ang mohs cam whoring like hell with the unusual cutlery of The Clinic, which I found rather amusing to watch.
On Saturday I was out with my mum, exploring Orchard road after I got my hair cut (finally!). We ended up having dinner at The Coffee Club at Takashimaya and I ordered some pasta dish which came with shed loads of cheese ): (I miss you, mature cheddar!) so I had to scoop it off onto another plate. The cheese pile slowly flowed to occupy the entire plate like a deflating lump of liposuction fats, which was both horrific and fascinating at the same time to watch.
As we were eating, I saw this black figure approaching from the night sky. It flew through the spot lights and dashed itself against the glass with a thump. I wtf-ed, switched my attention and watched it. It dropped a few meters, then spread it's variegated wings and rose up again, flew in a small loop and aimed itself at the glass again. It did this a few times, by which the attention of a few other observant diners was garnered. Finally it hit the class and fell out of sight.
I'll like to image the bat closed it's beady eyes and made one grand dash out back into the night sky where it first came from.
I finally drank alcohol on Friday night, since I turned 18. It was a Vodka Sprite (which The Alchemist insists is wonderfully befitting of me) and somehow reminded me of water. The bunch of us other celebrating JLC's birthday sat opposite these bunch of ang mohs cam whoring like hell with the unusual cutlery of The Clinic, which I found rather amusing to watch.
On Saturday I was out with my mum, exploring Orchard road after I got my hair cut (finally!). We ended up having dinner at The Coffee Club at Takashimaya and I ordered some pasta dish which came with shed loads of cheese ): (I miss you, mature cheddar!) so I had to scoop it off onto another plate. The cheese pile slowly flowed to occupy the entire plate like a deflating lump of liposuction fats, which was both horrific and fascinating at the same time to watch.
As we were eating, I saw this black figure approaching from the night sky. It flew through the spot lights and dashed itself against the glass with a thump. I wtf-ed, switched my attention and watched it. It dropped a few meters, then spread it's variegated wings and rose up again, flew in a small loop and aimed itself at the glass again. It did this a few times, by which the attention of a few other observant diners was garnered. Finally it hit the class and fell out of sight.
I'll like to image the bat closed it's beady eyes and made one grand dash out back into the night sky where it first came from.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
I had a very odd conversation today. Ted Kin and Gen were talking and I happened to be within earshot as I was reaching for my school bag and I overheard the word 'celibate'. Naturally I repeated the word and joined in the conversation which then degenerated into who was 'getting some'. Then Gen said 'celibate' again, except this time it sounded like 'cerebrate' - which I then mentioned. Then Ted Kin and Gen face palmed, because they were talking about Starcraft right before I appeared and misheard -____________-
Another odd comment was when WTY was asking for our CAS hours and Song Yeong said "I'm going to get some Action sir!" From individual inward LOLs, it became a mass laughing session when someone laughed audibly. I think even WTY laughed.
-----
For once in a long time today, I finally drew on my hand. Except even now, hours later and numerous obsessive compulsive hand washings with soap - the marking is still there. What I find so fascinating about the marking however, is that it bled into the cracks of my skin - highlighting the little lines that are finely etched into my skin. It looks mildly surreal to even look at because more often than not we hardly take time to stare at our hands, taking for granted the little lines that are there. Sometimes I forget their presence.
The skin on my hands is pale and light, much like the rest of me. So pale in fact, that I can see the light greyish blue veins underneath (so how the hell did the damn anesthetist poke the IV drip into the wrong damn place?!) and see how they branch out into Y shaped forks. It's seems like even blood needs to make decisions - do I go to the index finger or the middle finger?
My hands are very small. They're the same size as Cheryl and Mai's - girls who are considerably smaller sized than I am, but my hands remain small all the same. The tip of my middle finger to the end of my palm is about 15.5 cm long and my palm is 8.5 cm across. My fingers are vaguely short and stumpy, which is just as well that I don't play the piano.
These fingers and hands have belonged to me since the day I was born. From wrapping tiny baby fingers around the fingers of loving relatives, I progressed to skipping about and holding hands with friends. Then as I grew older, those hands and fingers slid comfortably into the hands of others. Now those others are long gone, but at least I still have my hands. My nice small hands.
Another odd comment was when WTY was asking for our CAS hours and Song Yeong said "I'm going to get some Action sir!" From individual inward LOLs, it became a mass laughing session when someone laughed audibly. I think even WTY laughed.
-----
For once in a long time today, I finally drew on my hand. Except even now, hours later and numerous obsessive compulsive hand washings with soap - the marking is still there. What I find so fascinating about the marking however, is that it bled into the cracks of my skin - highlighting the little lines that are finely etched into my skin. It looks mildly surreal to even look at because more often than not we hardly take time to stare at our hands, taking for granted the little lines that are there. Sometimes I forget their presence.
The skin on my hands is pale and light, much like the rest of me. So pale in fact, that I can see the light greyish blue veins underneath (so how the hell did the damn anesthetist poke the IV drip into the wrong damn place?!) and see how they branch out into Y shaped forks. It's seems like even blood needs to make decisions - do I go to the index finger or the middle finger?
My hands are very small. They're the same size as Cheryl and Mai's - girls who are considerably smaller sized than I am, but my hands remain small all the same. The tip of my middle finger to the end of my palm is about 15.5 cm long and my palm is 8.5 cm across. My fingers are vaguely short and stumpy, which is just as well that I don't play the piano.
These fingers and hands have belonged to me since the day I was born. From wrapping tiny baby fingers around the fingers of loving relatives, I progressed to skipping about and holding hands with friends. Then as I grew older, those hands and fingers slid comfortably into the hands of others. Now those others are long gone, but at least I still have my hands. My nice small hands.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
There is a really cliched saying, 'when life gives you lemons, make lemonade' - which is precisely what I have been doing the past 4 nights, squeezing the life juice out of those damn oily thick skinned fruits in order to carry out a Vitamin C test on them tomorrow for Bio prac. I would go off tangent and turn this into some absurd session about making fun of cliches/lemons but on a night like this I feel worn out and black holey again. Not a very pleasant prospect.
Then there is tomorrow, the 24th of April 2008. A date that is rather significant which I managed to clean forget about till the bus ride home yesterday. Today I was watching him walk about during History class and the dominating thought was 'I can't believe I fell in love with that'. Still, I can't say I don't miss everything that we shared because if there is one moment I could say was the best in my life - it was that period.
However thinking about tonight and why I once more feel down again, I don't quite think that's the main factor; it's more of a contributing one to make things which already seem bad feel worse. Then there's the thing I get when I get depressed around the middle of the week, almost every week without fail. And then there is the other thing, in which I perceive that I have once again made a terrible mistake and now have to suffer the consequences even though I was trying to avoid them to begin with.
Another hook fell off my skirt today.
Then there is tomorrow, the 24th of April 2008. A date that is rather significant which I managed to clean forget about till the bus ride home yesterday. Today I was watching him walk about during History class and the dominating thought was 'I can't believe I fell in love with that'. Still, I can't say I don't miss everything that we shared because if there is one moment I could say was the best in my life - it was that period.
However thinking about tonight and why I once more feel down again, I don't quite think that's the main factor; it's more of a contributing one to make things which already seem bad feel worse. Then there's the thing I get when I get depressed around the middle of the week, almost every week without fail. And then there is the other thing, in which I perceive that I have once again made a terrible mistake and now have to suffer the consequences even though I was trying to avoid them to begin with.
Another hook fell off my skirt today.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Today after the first 20 minute recess, the hook fell off my skirt again -____- This time however, I conveniently had the Earth Day pin stuck to my collar so I removed the ribbon and used the safety pin attached to secure the hook. Why the hell are all my hooks falling off?!?
I also did something terribly silly today after school. I saw Arjun with some tall Indian guy I didn't recognise, so I thought he was Namskal. So I swung into action, trying to annoy the shit of the other guy and be as offensive as possible. Only afterwards did it occur to me that the guy wasn't Namskal and I had just randomly been rude to a stranger. True enough it was some other guy who I'll assume is from an intact class because I had not seen him before. (I should be thankful for little blessings, like my inability to remember how Namskal looks also extends to this other guy, so I won't feel horrified every time I see him - and this is so not a race thing, it took me almost 5 times+ before I could recognise Sir Brythain. In fact I am horrible at remembering faces, I once confused this girl in .10 with someone in .7 and had a conversation with her about Jim even though she looked damn confused.)
-----
Today was a really distracting day. I can't say I really remember what the hell happened during History and English because my mind was far off somewhere, half LOLing excessively half confuzzled. On the upside that matter has been dealt with, so hopefully things will continue to look up. Today some things also finished their tiny 14 year old cycle and came full circle (I really like the idea of cycles and circles - can you tell?), so perhaps that is yet another previously unresolved issue that is now resolved!
I feel peaceful and zen now. I just hope studying for the Bio test tomorrow doesn't ruin this feeling.
I also did something terribly silly today after school. I saw Arjun with some tall Indian guy I didn't recognise, so I thought he was Namskal. So I swung into action, trying to annoy the shit of the other guy and be as offensive as possible. Only afterwards did it occur to me that the guy wasn't Namskal and I had just randomly been rude to a stranger. True enough it was some other guy who I'll assume is from an intact class because I had not seen him before. (I should be thankful for little blessings, like my inability to remember how Namskal looks also extends to this other guy, so I won't feel horrified every time I see him - and this is so not a race thing, it took me almost 5 times+ before I could recognise Sir Brythain. In fact I am horrible at remembering faces, I once confused this girl in .10 with someone in .7 and had a conversation with her about Jim even though she looked damn confused.)
-----
Today was a really distracting day. I can't say I really remember what the hell happened during History and English because my mind was far off somewhere, half LOLing excessively half confuzzled. On the upside that matter has been dealt with, so hopefully things will continue to look up. Today some things also finished their tiny 14 year old cycle and came full circle (I really like the idea of cycles and circles - can you tell?), so perhaps that is yet another previously unresolved issue that is now resolved!
I feel peaceful and zen now. I just hope studying for the Bio test tomorrow doesn't ruin this feeling.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Who is up for some extreme random fun in the month of May? What better way to celebrate the end of the cruelest month than by unleashing great hordes of nonsensical unbridled amusement?
I thus present (with permission!) A Plan for the Month of May.
From the blog of Ianthe:
MAY
1- labour day*
2- wink at random strangers day
3-
4-
5- take unlimited photographs of your entire day day*
6- act like a zombie day
7- accuse people of random crimes day
8- have a bad fake brit accent day (its not that hard)
9- be sexually inappropriate with friends day*
10-
11-
12- smack some ass day
12- draw all over your hands day
13- bring a pillow to school day
14- sing pop songs from our primary school days day
15- anti american food day
16- sexual innuendo day/'thats what she said' day
17-
18-
19- vesak day*
20- harry potter reference day
21- swear with beep words day
22- screw the canteen food day (bring your own!)
23- replace all your spoken letter 'b's with 'f's day
24-
25-
26- JUNE HOLIDAYS START
*REAL holidays.
Ah Ianthe, I miss your nonsense, but all those reading this from ACSI, who's up for this! Contact me ;)
I thus present (with permission!) A Plan for the Month of May.
From the blog of Ianthe:
MAY
1- labour day*
2- wink at random strangers day
3-
4-
5- take unlimited photographs of your entire day day*
6- act like a zombie day
7- accuse people of random crimes day
8- have a bad fake brit accent day (its not that hard)
9- be sexually inappropriate with friends day*
10-
11-
12- smack some ass day
12- draw all over your hands day
13- bring a pillow to school day
14- sing pop songs from our primary school days day
15- anti american food day
16- sexual innuendo day/'thats what she said' day
17-
18-
19- vesak day*
20- harry potter reference day
21- swear with beep words day
22- screw the canteen food day (bring your own!)
23- replace all your spoken letter 'b's with 'f's day
24-
25-
26- JUNE HOLIDAYS START
*REAL holidays.
Ah Ianthe, I miss your nonsense, but all those reading this from ACSI, who's up for this! Contact me ;)
Just as I was about to write off this night as a okay-not-too-exciting-and-somewhat-dissatisfying night, someone says something really really fucked up to me. In an instant all my thoughts are filled with those words, and I CANNOT STOP LOLING. It's almost as if my reaction shows the pinnacle of fucked up-ness I have achieved - my life thus far has been one big ball of FUCK and this is the latest addition to it. I can't even stop LOLing to highlight my Allot textbook.
I really wish I could write about the entirety of my life somewhere, to record down all the damn fucked up things that have happened so I can laugh at them. Laugh at myself. Laugh at the things I have done. Just laugh and move on with my damn life so I can stop obsessing about it. (I suddenly find myself unable to recall who said I should just drop out of school, hide on some deserted island and just write my 18 year old life story)
And speaking of fucked up, I just ate a bun without realising there was cheese on it, as a result my stomach is going to be pretty fucked up tomorrow. Taaaa.
I really wish I could write about the entirety of my life somewhere, to record down all the damn fucked up things that have happened so I can laugh at them. Laugh at myself. Laugh at the things I have done. Just laugh and move on with my damn life so I can stop obsessing about it. (I suddenly find myself unable to recall who said I should just drop out of school, hide on some deserted island and just write my 18 year old life story)
And speaking of fucked up, I just ate a bun without realising there was cheese on it, as a result my stomach is going to be pretty fucked up tomorrow. Taaaa.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Ah yes, Juno - the bastard lovechild that somehow turned into the unofficial representative to all things indie AND BECAUSE I WATCHED IT, I AM INDIE AND BY EXTENSION BETTER THAN YOU.
"ELLEN PAGE guzzles SUNNY D as some obnoxious INDIE SONG blares in the background so that everyone knows that this is an intellectual, independent film."
"ELLEN PAGE guzzles SUNNY D as some obnoxious INDIE SONG blares in the background so that everyone knows that this is an intellectual, independent film."
A few weeks ago, I had a random conversation with someone I was a little afraid of. In the conversation, he said that because of what I had done (pointing out his peeling nose was freaky), he now hated all MGS girls. Instead of getting offended however, I instead replied that it was alright with me, I didn't really care for that school myself.
And then last night, Adeline started talking to me on MSN, and showed me a video shot to publicise MGS (I was about to use the word propaganda, but I realised that the only school really deserving of such a term is the one I'm in now) which can be viewed here. As I watched it, I felt myself alternating between cringing for bad music and lousy camera work and complete apathy.
Then a few nights ago, a close friend of mind mentioned he was feeling rather down. After some further enquiries with someone he had met that day earlier, it was made apparent that he was feeling down over the fact that this was his last year of being an ACS boy.
All these events made me start thinking about how I felt when I left MGS: I remember feeling sad because these were people I had gotten used to, for better or worse, and they used to me. I remember linking almost everything significant to that school, 'it's here where I did flag raising and screwed it up', 'in P3 I fell down here' and even random things like 'this is my favourite toilet in the entire school'. I felt like life as I knew it was over - I now had to behave myself and act like a lady.
Now almost 2 years down the road, we know how the 'behave myself and act like a lady' bit went. If anything else, I became weirder and less lady like (but I am STILL not a lesbian). I feel happier now, where I was once tolerated I now feel accepted and have even more catalysts for my odd behaviour. In essence: I enjoy myself more here.
I returned to MGS a few times last year, mostly to visit my juniors in Guides. As I wandered about school, I felt rather disconnected. All the faces I saw I didn't recognise, even the canteen looked gaudier, and Hock Seng the school institution had been downgraded to a mere snack seller. I only felt sentimental when I saw my juniors, stuck doing the same random guide shit I had been making them do just the year prior. It wasn't till then that it really struck me how much Life Goes On. The school without the people meant nothing to me anymore. Sure, I experienced 10 years of my life on that campus, but all these memories didn't amount to much without the people they were with.
In a similar fashion, as this rather chaotic year is really slowly (hey, there's still more than 6 months of this left) inching towards an end, I know I'll leave with my memories and love for friends intact - without any false notions of great ties to the school.
-----
Meanwhile, this is the most wtf art project I have read about, more wtf than the artist who took an already starving/sick dog and chained it so food was just out of reach. Instead this one is about a yale student who repeated induced miscarriages for the sake of 'art'. I wonder what Kierkegaard would have made of all of this.
And then last night, Adeline started talking to me on MSN, and showed me a video shot to publicise MGS (I was about to use the word propaganda, but I realised that the only school really deserving of such a term is the one I'm in now) which can be viewed here. As I watched it, I felt myself alternating between cringing for bad music and lousy camera work and complete apathy.
Then a few nights ago, a close friend of mind mentioned he was feeling rather down. After some further enquiries with someone he had met that day earlier, it was made apparent that he was feeling down over the fact that this was his last year of being an ACS boy.
All these events made me start thinking about how I felt when I left MGS: I remember feeling sad because these were people I had gotten used to, for better or worse, and they used to me. I remember linking almost everything significant to that school, 'it's here where I did flag raising and screwed it up', 'in P3 I fell down here' and even random things like 'this is my favourite toilet in the entire school'. I felt like life as I knew it was over - I now had to behave myself and act like a lady.
Now almost 2 years down the road, we know how the 'behave myself and act like a lady' bit went. If anything else, I became weirder and less lady like (but I am STILL not a lesbian). I feel happier now, where I was once tolerated I now feel accepted and have even more catalysts for my odd behaviour. In essence: I enjoy myself more here.
I returned to MGS a few times last year, mostly to visit my juniors in Guides. As I wandered about school, I felt rather disconnected. All the faces I saw I didn't recognise, even the canteen looked gaudier, and Hock Seng the school institution had been downgraded to a mere snack seller. I only felt sentimental when I saw my juniors, stuck doing the same random guide shit I had been making them do just the year prior. It wasn't till then that it really struck me how much Life Goes On. The school without the people meant nothing to me anymore. Sure, I experienced 10 years of my life on that campus, but all these memories didn't amount to much without the people they were with.
In a similar fashion, as this rather chaotic year is really slowly (hey, there's still more than 6 months of this left) inching towards an end, I know I'll leave with my memories and love for friends intact - without any false notions of great ties to the school.
-----
Meanwhile, this is the most wtf art project I have read about, more wtf than the artist who took an already starving/sick dog and chained it so food was just out of reach. Instead this one is about a yale student who repeated induced miscarriages for the sake of 'art'. I wonder what Kierkegaard would have made of all of this.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Facing my opened laptop is an odd postcard like letterhead with a generic pastoral picture and a bible verse written in bad font, "For Everything God made is good. 1 Tim. 4:4".
My guess is that if no one bothered to ask, most people that know me now wouldn't think I was Christian at all. This is ironic considering that in Sec 1 to 3, I was practically a Christian fundamentalist (or maybe I was just psychotic). When my grandma became really sick after doing her Tai Chi exercises, I was 100% sure Satan's demons had entered her through those exercises.
There was also a point in Sec 1 that I used to see weird shit. Like orbs of inky black masses floating about and flying into people's heads. I was convinced it was Satan entering them. Then I heard some voices calling my name, and soon 'in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ be gone' became my auto catch phrase mentally. It didn't help that I'd heard off rustling sounds in my room at night as I tried to sleep, even when I had a night light on (yes I am horribly scared of the dark, I didn't really conquer it till I was 16).
As the more innocent times of Sec 2 gave way to Sec 3, I hit my second major crisis (which I define as a period of great emotional and mental distress) and I started praying like crazy, for God to give me strength to fight it. My first essay on 'Myself' in Sec 3 was filled with how I was convinced that God had granted me epiphanies with every earthquake (the Asian Tsunami and some other minor quake in Sumatra in the beginning of 2005) and was helping me cope with my problems. (I am so cringing as I type these thoughts out now.) I remember my favourite Christian songs were Still, Above All and a song with the lyrics 'before the world began, you were on his mind/every tear you cry is precious in his eyes' - and I'd cry as I sang them. I even tried being a Sunday School teacher.
Then Sec 3 came to an end. Someone tried to commit suicide in school and days later I wound up having a breakdown during church practice. That was probably where I started backsliding. More shit happened, and soon I was facing my third major crisis as Sec 4 started. As the situation in church started souring and a betrayal came to light, I started to think poisonous thoughts and drifted far away from God. However, it still took me a lot of courage to work up the will to walk away from church, and I cried about the decision. I then spent Sec 4 visiting CCMC occasionally, because Stephanie went there.
Then I ended up in ACSI. I was partly relieved that there was chapel on Mondays, because somehow part of me still wished to cling onto religion even though I refused to go to church. Chapel became my way of feeling less guilty for not going to church. Then the whole idea of FireAC being filled with religious zealots, morning devotions becoming a mouthpiece of the overlords and in general a less Christian environment and religion became a minor joke. Then poof, Year 5 became Year 6. Stress, unhealed wounds and an already fragile state of mind combined to form a potent potion of disaster a few weeks ago. Someone who saw wrote me a letter, telling me to turn to God for help to my problems. Then last week my old Sunday School teacher sent me a letter with the aforementioned pastoral scene, telling me to turn to God for help as well even though she had no inkling of my problems now.
As I read those letters, I felt yet another pang of sadness for what I had lost. For how much I wanted to believe that things would really turn out alright if I just prayed hard enough (makes it sound like I haven't been praying the past few years, but I pray every night). For how I now felt so far away from God and how I couldn't really believe anymore because of all the shit that keeps happening. Then it shifted to how I couldn't believe that anyone would love me, that I wasn't good enough for God.
Yes, I have issues. Lots of them. Shedloads of them. On one hand if I didn't have them, I wouldn't be so damn screwed up in the head. On the other hand, I would probably have been a much less interesting person if I didn't have them. Talk about a tough learning process.
-----
The thing that really inspired this entry was how I just told someone 'Jesus loves you!', and the next thing that hit my mind was 'this sounds mocking' and then 'uh did I mean it to be mocking?'. I felt disturbed thinking about it, how much religion has changed it's role in my life in the past few years. Of how it seemed to have morphed into a joke.
I always say that in the long term, I want to go to church and be a proper Christian again. The sort who is madly in love and devout to God. The non-swearing, generic but happy looking Christian because I have God! But thinking about it makes me feel sick sometimes, and I don't think I can ever go back to how I was before. My thoughts about religion and life have changed and don't always fit in with doctrine anymore. My stance towards homosexuality is: If you can find love, cling on to it as best as you can and never let go, because love is so hard to find that it transcends everything.
Perhaps in church that was why I never really fit in with the rest. I always had my own little ideas about things, was that little bit the maverick. Even in being some sort of weird fundamentalist, I topped most of the things Conservative Christians could dream of coming up with (Pokemon, Digimon and Teletubbies are from Satan anyone?). I then shot to the next extreme of rejecting most of the things I was taught from a young age. It's almost like I could find no happy medium.
Today I float about, away from the 'organised' part of 'organised religion', with my own mishmash of Christian ideas and things plucked out from my emotions and reasoning which I have yet to really refine. I'm not really sure where I want to go from here. Do I try finding my way back home through God? Or does my home lie in another direction, or have I been home all along and never realised it because I was worrying too much about conventional thought?
I honestly have no idea, I just hope I find my answer soon.
P.S., please do not spam my tagboard or me with Bible Verses encouraging me to do xxx. I will not appreciate it. I am perfectly lucid as I write this and am not currently depressed. My biggest problem now is handing in EE on Friday, which I will do tomorrow since I ended up ignoring it today despite my best intentions.
My guess is that if no one bothered to ask, most people that know me now wouldn't think I was Christian at all. This is ironic considering that in Sec 1 to 3, I was practically a Christian fundamentalist (or maybe I was just psychotic). When my grandma became really sick after doing her Tai Chi exercises, I was 100% sure Satan's demons had entered her through those exercises.
There was also a point in Sec 1 that I used to see weird shit. Like orbs of inky black masses floating about and flying into people's heads. I was convinced it was Satan entering them. Then I heard some voices calling my name, and soon 'in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ be gone' became my auto catch phrase mentally. It didn't help that I'd heard off rustling sounds in my room at night as I tried to sleep, even when I had a night light on (yes I am horribly scared of the dark, I didn't really conquer it till I was 16).
As the more innocent times of Sec 2 gave way to Sec 3, I hit my second major crisis (which I define as a period of great emotional and mental distress) and I started praying like crazy, for God to give me strength to fight it. My first essay on 'Myself' in Sec 3 was filled with how I was convinced that God had granted me epiphanies with every earthquake (the Asian Tsunami and some other minor quake in Sumatra in the beginning of 2005) and was helping me cope with my problems. (I am so cringing as I type these thoughts out now.) I remember my favourite Christian songs were Still, Above All and a song with the lyrics 'before the world began, you were on his mind/every tear you cry is precious in his eyes' - and I'd cry as I sang them. I even tried being a Sunday School teacher.
Then Sec 3 came to an end. Someone tried to commit suicide in school and days later I wound up having a breakdown during church practice. That was probably where I started backsliding. More shit happened, and soon I was facing my third major crisis as Sec 4 started. As the situation in church started souring and a betrayal came to light, I started to think poisonous thoughts and drifted far away from God. However, it still took me a lot of courage to work up the will to walk away from church, and I cried about the decision. I then spent Sec 4 visiting CCMC occasionally, because Stephanie went there.
Then I ended up in ACSI. I was partly relieved that there was chapel on Mondays, because somehow part of me still wished to cling onto religion even though I refused to go to church. Chapel became my way of feeling less guilty for not going to church. Then the whole idea of FireAC being filled with religious zealots, morning devotions becoming a mouthpiece of the overlords and in general a less Christian environment and religion became a minor joke. Then poof, Year 5 became Year 6. Stress, unhealed wounds and an already fragile state of mind combined to form a potent potion of disaster a few weeks ago. Someone who saw wrote me a letter, telling me to turn to God for help to my problems. Then last week my old Sunday School teacher sent me a letter with the aforementioned pastoral scene, telling me to turn to God for help as well even though she had no inkling of my problems now.
As I read those letters, I felt yet another pang of sadness for what I had lost. For how much I wanted to believe that things would really turn out alright if I just prayed hard enough (makes it sound like I haven't been praying the past few years, but I pray every night). For how I now felt so far away from God and how I couldn't really believe anymore because of all the shit that keeps happening. Then it shifted to how I couldn't believe that anyone would love me, that I wasn't good enough for God.
Yes, I have issues. Lots of them. Shedloads of them. On one hand if I didn't have them, I wouldn't be so damn screwed up in the head. On the other hand, I would probably have been a much less interesting person if I didn't have them. Talk about a tough learning process.
-----
The thing that really inspired this entry was how I just told someone 'Jesus loves you!', and the next thing that hit my mind was 'this sounds mocking' and then 'uh did I mean it to be mocking?'. I felt disturbed thinking about it, how much religion has changed it's role in my life in the past few years. Of how it seemed to have morphed into a joke.
I always say that in the long term, I want to go to church and be a proper Christian again. The sort who is madly in love and devout to God. The non-swearing, generic but happy looking Christian because I have God! But thinking about it makes me feel sick sometimes, and I don't think I can ever go back to how I was before. My thoughts about religion and life have changed and don't always fit in with doctrine anymore. My stance towards homosexuality is: If you can find love, cling on to it as best as you can and never let go, because love is so hard to find that it transcends everything.
Perhaps in church that was why I never really fit in with the rest. I always had my own little ideas about things, was that little bit the maverick. Even in being some sort of weird fundamentalist, I topped most of the things Conservative Christians could dream of coming up with (Pokemon, Digimon and Teletubbies are from Satan anyone?). I then shot to the next extreme of rejecting most of the things I was taught from a young age. It's almost like I could find no happy medium.
Today I float about, away from the 'organised' part of 'organised religion', with my own mishmash of Christian ideas and things plucked out from my emotions and reasoning which I have yet to really refine. I'm not really sure where I want to go from here. Do I try finding my way back home through God? Or does my home lie in another direction, or have I been home all along and never realised it because I was worrying too much about conventional thought?
I honestly have no idea, I just hope I find my answer soon.
P.S., please do not spam my tagboard or me with Bible Verses encouraging me to do xxx. I will not appreciate it. I am perfectly lucid as I write this and am not currently depressed. My biggest problem now is handing in EE on Friday, which I will do tomorrow since I ended up ignoring it today despite my best intentions.
Today when I got back home I saw the printer cable sitting on my desk, so I spent about an hour fixing it up. Then, I scanned in my old Chinese compositions (sorry Arjun! Ask someone to translate or something) from 2005/Sec 3.
I bet if I did this shit in ACSI (and I did it for 3 years running in MGS!), I would have been called to Drong's office long ago because not only was I the worst student in my year for Chinese, I had a predilection for writing about tigers in my compositions.
It seems like yesterday (ohohoho a cliche!) that my compositions was being passed around during Raymond Ong's SS/History lessons and translated for Sheril.
I bet if I did this shit in ACSI (and I did it for 3 years running in MGS!), I would have been called to Drong's office long ago because not only was I the worst student in my year for Chinese, I had a predilection for writing about tigers in my compositions.
It seems like yesterday (ohohoho a cliche!) that my compositions was being passed around during Raymond Ong's SS/History lessons and translated for Sheril.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Two quick things before I pop off:
1) I was sitting at the benches at the intact side today during the 2nd recess with Jess Malik and wedged the end of my ruler between the slats of the bench. I started playing with it like it was a trebuchet (I think you can tell where this is going), flicking the free end about when it suddenly sprag out and FLEW OVER THE RAILINGS. As I ran over filled with dispair at the idea of having to run 5 stories down to pick up my poor ruler, I saw something worse: it was sitting happily on the weird aluminum awnings.
I think I would have felt better if it just fell. Instead it's sitting there now, half looking like it's going to remain there for a few good years and half looking like the next wind would blow it off it's perch. I don't like the idea of it being in limbo - being able to fall at any given moment without me being around :x
2) THERE ARE FUCKING HUGE ASS RATS IN THE SAC, OMG OMG OMG.
Arjun, Stephanie and I stayed late today and we went into the SAC around 5:30-ish. They switched off the lights after a while, and out of the corner of my eye I saw this thing slitering along the bottom of the wall, clinging to the corners. I originally thought it was a lizard, but a glance revealed it was a rat. It ran and hid behind a cleaner's trolley. Just as we started complaining about how disgusting it was, I saw this mother-fucking-as-big-as-a-small-cat rat sit grandly outside the passageway to the stalls. I screamed and the thing ran towards the old SAC side. It was so huge, it freaked me out. Living in old houses before, I've seen my hair share of rodents - but never so big! Shit. Talk about disgusting.
1) I was sitting at the benches at the intact side today during the 2nd recess with Jess Malik and wedged the end of my ruler between the slats of the bench. I started playing with it like it was a trebuchet (I think you can tell where this is going), flicking the free end about when it suddenly sprag out and FLEW OVER THE RAILINGS. As I ran over filled with dispair at the idea of having to run 5 stories down to pick up my poor ruler, I saw something worse: it was sitting happily on the weird aluminum awnings.
I think I would have felt better if it just fell. Instead it's sitting there now, half looking like it's going to remain there for a few good years and half looking like the next wind would blow it off it's perch. I don't like the idea of it being in limbo - being able to fall at any given moment without me being around :x
2) THERE ARE FUCKING HUGE ASS RATS IN THE SAC, OMG OMG OMG.
Arjun, Stephanie and I stayed late today and we went into the SAC around 5:30-ish. They switched off the lights after a while, and out of the corner of my eye I saw this thing slitering along the bottom of the wall, clinging to the corners. I originally thought it was a lizard, but a glance revealed it was a rat. It ran and hid behind a cleaner's trolley. Just as we started complaining about how disgusting it was, I saw this mother-fucking-as-big-as-a-small-cat rat sit grandly outside the passageway to the stalls. I screamed and the thing ran towards the old SAC side. It was so huge, it freaked me out. Living in old houses before, I've seen my hair share of rodents - but never so big! Shit. Talk about disgusting.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Last night just as I was about to sleep, I clicked on a link from some one's blog to my blog. However the catch was that it was my old blog. A blog so old, it had another blog in between before I settled down at thechartreusetiger.
Inspired, I went off in search of my Sec 1 blog, mwsy.diaryland.com - and I still discovered it alive! So I went to resurrect it. Oh the terrible unbearable language and rubbish I used to write. I then copied Angeline and switched to Blurty, so blurty.com/~melzilla exists as a memoir to my Sec 2 year. In Sec 3 I went off to ethreality.diaryland.com, but later fled after I went through another round of paranoia over a certain few peoples reading my blog. However I am unable to resurrect that one, which I find quite a pity ): for some reason it's not the usual password I've been using since Sec 1.
Here are the links to the 'good posts' I did in Sec 1: Bimbos (which started a whole chain of bimbo battles), and some random shit I wrote in response to an article. Should you ever decide to explore it's murky adolescent depths of angst and rebellious ridden hell, I suggest heading right for the archive page instead of just clicking 'previous' because there's a lot of redirection pages.
Sec 2 is amusing because I wrote a lot of stuff about 1) Guides 2) ACSI 3) How much I hate my teachers.
"Thursday:
Swimming PE. And when we arrived at ACSI, know what we discovered? THERE WAS A WATER POLO MATCH BEING HELD THERE LATER and there were guys, guys are more guys around.
Talk out being outnumbered as the saying goes "there's safety in numbers" the guys got bolder and I even saw about 4 of upper sec guys just STARING at the non-swimming MGS girls. They were wearing long pants if I'm not wrong.
And then from the field, there were these guys decked out in PE t-shirt and all leaning over the fence and watching the Beginners swim and soon a bunch of non-acsi guys who I suspect were playing against ACSI later, wonder what school they were from.
And then the guys nearest to the pool "accidentally" missed the ball and it flew into the pool right in front of me while I was rubbing my eyes. I was startled and screamed. Oh mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
But I took the ball and threw in back to them. So dao mei having to be right at the end of the class. Anyways, later on two balls fell into the pool at the same time, I got the one closest to me and threw it back, but then the other ball was floating away towards the other end of the pool, I felt like looking them straight in the eye and give an evil smile. Too bad I didn't and I just watched the ball float further and further away and I watched the guys as then tried to pull up the legs of their shorts and get the ball. Wheeeeeeeee, so mean (:
Try to get the attention of girls right? Hahahahaha idiots. They later on tried the other end of the class and poor Yvonne had to swim right to end to get the ball even though it was barely 30 cm away from her when she started out to grab it. Oh and coincidently, no balls flew into the pool when we were at the other end and out of the corner of my eye while listening to Mrs Kwan the guys were doing exaggerated moves. Despots.
And later my badge rolled into the drain! Wahhhhhh I ended up having to buy a new badge at school to replace it, WASTE MY MONEY. Mr Ong atcually lifted up the drain cover but we couldn't find it inside and I decided I didn't want it back anymore. Yuk."
I like how I used 'despots' wrongly.
On another note I re-did a quiz I found on the Sec 2 blog, so here are the results, then vs now:
Take Free Enneagram Word Test
personality tests by similarminds.com
-----
Quiz aside, I finally took out the two zhuo wen I did in Sec 3 and showed the .9 people in Kenneth Huang's Econs class.
They were overcome with laughter at the various weird shit I wrote and mis-writings (you can't say misspell for Chinese characters!) I wrote, especially when writing lao hu. When my dad buys the damn printer cable, I swear I will scan it in. (On another note yesterday I assembled a side table from Ikea which had been lying in my room for a week, so I could install the damn printer. When it came to the last bit, connecting the printer - I discovered there was no USB cable. WTF!)
There's a certain sort of sadness I get now, thinking about my Secondary school years. I felt way more awesome for starters, like I reached the peak of my 'awesome' abilities and now I'm in decline. That and I did a lot more rubbish, was more rebellious, extroverted, hyper. I was certainly no less suffering from sporadic depression, but I handled it better. Maybe because it wasn't so bad then.
I've calmed down a lot the past few years, as unlikely as it seems. I am not longer as outwardly spirited as before, I rebel less, I think more, I feel life more as opposed to riding on emptiness disguised as happiness. I'm less innocent, more melancholy, feel more incompetent, bi-polar. My writing has switched from pointless absurd to my odd interpretations and viewpoint of life. I listen to much better music, enjoy better films and read better books (I think I am in love with Stendhal now!), have more intellectual experiences.
However as much as life has changed thus far, I still retain the most wonderful friends a girl could ever ask for: Angeline, Stephanie and Ianthe. Many friends come and go, and remain only in the conscious of a certain time period, but there are always those who stick with you through thick and thin. It's because of this that I feel so thankful for coming to ACSI, because I've made so many meaningful friends here - people I expect to 'have' in my life even ten years down the road (well Jia Hui, you get lumped into here even though you're not from ACSI).
Of course, there is always a special category for Suat Ying, the random RGS girl who entered my life as I entered Sec 4. Even though we've never met, we're been through quite a bit of madness together. For that, I cannot thank you/God enough.
Yes, I am truly blessed. I do need to remind myself of this more often.
Inspired, I went off in search of my Sec 1 blog, mwsy.diaryland.com - and I still discovered it alive! So I went to resurrect it. Oh the terrible unbearable language and rubbish I used to write. I then copied Angeline and switched to Blurty, so blurty.com/~melzilla exists as a memoir to my Sec 2 year. In Sec 3 I went off to ethreality.diaryland.com, but later fled after I went through another round of paranoia over a certain few peoples reading my blog. However I am unable to resurrect that one, which I find quite a pity ): for some reason it's not the usual password I've been using since Sec 1.
Here are the links to the 'good posts' I did in Sec 1: Bimbos (which started a whole chain of bimbo battles), and some random shit I wrote in response to an article. Should you ever decide to explore it's murky adolescent depths of angst and rebellious ridden hell, I suggest heading right for the archive page instead of just clicking 'previous' because there's a lot of redirection pages.
Sec 2 is amusing because I wrote a lot of stuff about 1) Guides 2) ACSI 3) How much I hate my teachers.
"Thursday:
Swimming PE. And when we arrived at ACSI, know what we discovered? THERE WAS A WATER POLO MATCH BEING HELD THERE LATER and there were guys, guys are more guys around.
Talk out being outnumbered as the saying goes "there's safety in numbers" the guys got bolder and I even saw about 4 of upper sec guys just STARING at the non-swimming MGS girls. They were wearing long pants if I'm not wrong.
And then from the field, there were these guys decked out in PE t-shirt and all leaning over the fence and watching the Beginners swim and soon a bunch of non-acsi guys who I suspect were playing against ACSI later, wonder what school they were from.
And then the guys nearest to the pool "accidentally" missed the ball and it flew into the pool right in front of me while I was rubbing my eyes. I was startled and screamed. Oh mannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
But I took the ball and threw in back to them. So dao mei having to be right at the end of the class. Anyways, later on two balls fell into the pool at the same time, I got the one closest to me and threw it back, but then the other ball was floating away towards the other end of the pool, I felt like looking them straight in the eye and give an evil smile. Too bad I didn't and I just watched the ball float further and further away and I watched the guys as then tried to pull up the legs of their shorts and get the ball. Wheeeeeeeee, so mean (:
Try to get the attention of girls right? Hahahahaha idiots. They later on tried the other end of the class and poor Yvonne had to swim right to end to get the ball even though it was barely 30 cm away from her when she started out to grab it. Oh and coincidently, no balls flew into the pool when we were at the other end and out of the corner of my eye while listening to Mrs Kwan the guys were doing exaggerated moves. Despots.
And later my badge rolled into the drain! Wahhhhhh I ended up having to buy a new badge at school to replace it, WASTE MY MONEY. Mr Ong atcually lifted up the drain cover but we couldn't find it inside and I decided I didn't want it back anymore. Yuk."
I like how I used 'despots' wrongly.
On another note I re-did a quiz I found on the Sec 2 blog, so here are the results, then vs now:
| Enneagram Test Results
|
personality tests by similarminds.com
-----
Quiz aside, I finally took out the two zhuo wen I did in Sec 3 and showed the .9 people in Kenneth Huang's Econs class.
They were overcome with laughter at the various weird shit I wrote and mis-writings (you can't say misspell for Chinese characters!) I wrote, especially when writing lao hu. When my dad buys the damn printer cable, I swear I will scan it in. (On another note yesterday I assembled a side table from Ikea which had been lying in my room for a week, so I could install the damn printer. When it came to the last bit, connecting the printer - I discovered there was no USB cable. WTF!)
There's a certain sort of sadness I get now, thinking about my Secondary school years. I felt way more awesome for starters, like I reached the peak of my 'awesome' abilities and now I'm in decline. That and I did a lot more rubbish, was more rebellious, extroverted, hyper. I was certainly no less suffering from sporadic depression, but I handled it better. Maybe because it wasn't so bad then.
I've calmed down a lot the past few years, as unlikely as it seems. I am not longer as outwardly spirited as before, I rebel less, I think more, I feel life more as opposed to riding on emptiness disguised as happiness. I'm less innocent, more melancholy, feel more incompetent, bi-polar. My writing has switched from pointless absurd to my odd interpretations and viewpoint of life. I listen to much better music, enjoy better films and read better books (I think I am in love with Stendhal now!), have more intellectual experiences.
However as much as life has changed thus far, I still retain the most wonderful friends a girl could ever ask for: Angeline, Stephanie and Ianthe. Many friends come and go, and remain only in the conscious of a certain time period, but there are always those who stick with you through thick and thin. It's because of this that I feel so thankful for coming to ACSI, because I've made so many meaningful friends here - people I expect to 'have' in my life even ten years down the road (well Jia Hui, you get lumped into here even though you're not from ACSI).
Of course, there is always a special category for Suat Ying, the random RGS girl who entered my life as I entered Sec 4. Even though we've never met, we're been through quite a bit of madness together. For that, I cannot thank you/God enough.
Yes, I am truly blessed. I do need to remind myself of this more often.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
At the end of this whole IB business, I’m going to wind up owing my first born to Daryl (if he even wants my sproglet) for all the academic help he has given me. My head feels spinnily dizzy right now, so despite the mountain loads of work (EE, Math Project are the most pressing, i.e.: due this week) I shall blog instead.
I got tagged to do some saccharinely sweet quiz by Stephanie. This then brings about the dilemma, how the heck do I find 8 people to even pass this onto? It’s impossibly female oriented and I doubt people would do this even if I tagged them (though Sir Brythain you should try it if you’re up to it!). But without further ado I present the quiz:
Probably not a very good one. I imagine a long period of depression, random mood swings, lots of lying about on my bed followed by an intense period of manical I MUST MAKE UP FOR LOST TIME AND LIVE AGAIN and then a burn out. Repeat ad infinitum?
2. What will you do if you do not share the same feelings as the person who likes you?
It depends. My automatic reaction is to freak out, have panic attacks and then get insanely paranoid about being raped. However in periods between insanity, I alternatively consider dating the person. Once though, I managed to behave perfectly normally (and felt normal too) to someone I knew who liked me.
3. What will your dream wedding be like?
It should be in a nice church, other than that I never really gave it much thought. I would play Rick Astley.
4. Are you confused as to what lies ahead of you?
Confused isn’t quite the term I’d use, ‘scared’ seems to fit better. I feel scared of what lies ahead, of all the unknowns out there! I’ve been planning my future nicely in my head for the past few years, but there is this huge fear within me that I won’t be able to see it through.
5. What's your ideal lover like?
Outgoing, friendly, thoughtful, assertive (because I’m not), intelligent, has a soul I can drown in, intuitive, shares at least some similar interests, must accept my brother, easy going, has no temper (because I’ve got lots of it :x), quirky, able to make me laugh.
6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone else?
Loving someone. Because sometimes you might not like the person that loves you? At least there is an element of control in this (I sound so cold and calculating here). My stance further follows the conventional argument of ‘it’s better to give than to receive’.
7. If the person you like does not accept you, would you continue to wait for them to change their feelings?
It really depends on how I feel for the person, if I love them and the other person then I’d wait for a long time. Though most likely I’ll take a while to get over it (I guess this the waiting period?) and then try my best to move on.
8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Get over the person, since it was just a ‘like’ to begin with and not a ‘love’. Besides, I can’t like someone who’s attached – my mind would stop liking them once I know they’re attached.
9. Is there anything that has made you unhappy recently?
Lots. Like my keyboard went weird earlier today and I keep having headaches today.
10. What do you want most in life?
To find my other half and be complete.
11. Is being tagged fun?
If I had enough time to do it without impeding on my study time, I guess it’s marginally fun?
12. If you find out that your best friend is going out with your boyfriend/girlfriend, how would you react?
Something like this actually happened to me before, it was beginning last year when I liked my Japanese teacher and he gave lots of signs about liking me back. But because the age gap between us was 10 years, he instead started dating my cousin. Talk about a soap opera. I reacted by being really sad and agonized, half wanting my cousin to be happy and half wanting him for myself. I got over him, they stopped dating, he started doing weird I-like-you actions to me and I left Japanese class (that and I had no time).
13. Who is currently the most important person to you?
This is hard to quantify since my good friends and family are important to me. I’d be equally devastated and depressed if anything happened to them.
14. What kind of person do you think I am?
Retarded.
15. Would you rather be single and rich or married and poor?
(Only if happily) married and poor. This might be hard to answer though, since some people out there do not need a relationship to be happy/are happier single and I might just morph into one of those people when I get older.
16. If the person you secretly like cannot recognize you, what would you do/how would you react?
If they don’t recognise me, then I probably don’t know them (whether personally or not). And if I don’t know them I’m unlikely to even like them in the first place!
17. Would you give your all in a relationship?
Yes, provided I went into the relationship with no strings attached.
18. If you fall in love with two persons simultaneously, who would you pick?
If you love two people at the same time and cannot choose, it is obvious you don’t love one enough to even pick. Therefore I’d leave both alone and go do some soul searching.
19. What type of friends do you like?
I like eccentric and odd people, with a touch of intelligence. This question should be rephrased to ‘what type of people do you like?’.
20. If you played a prank on someone, and he/she fell for the trick, what would you do?
Since I’m the one playing the prank, shouldn’t I be laughing at the expense of the other person? Unless I have schizophrenia or something, then maybe I’ll have a panic attack and freak out/have a seizure.
On another note, I found this amusing video on Jia Hui’s blog:
It's so incongruous, it's funny! Plus points for random abuse of children's TV characters.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
123456789/-=
qwerty456*
asdfgh123
zxcvbn0
what the he33 th5s cann6t be ha**en5ng t6 0e
5 have a f4c25ng EE t6 wr5te a0d 0y 2eyb6ard has screwed 4*, 5t was *erfect3y f5ne yesterday n5ght!!! f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2.
0y sh5ft 2ey d6esn't w6r2 e5ther.
60g 60g 60g 60g 60g 60g.
g66d 34c2 try5ng t6 0a2e sense 6f a33 6f th5s.
qwerty456*
asdfgh123
zxcvbn0
what the he33 th5s cann6t be ha**en5ng t6 0e
5 have a f4c25ng EE t6 wr5te a0d 0y 2eyb6ard has screwed 4*, 5t was *erfect3y f5ne yesterday n5ght!!! f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2 f4c2.
0y sh5ft 2ey d6esn't w6r2 e5ther.
60g 60g 60g 60g 60g 60g.
g66d 34c2 try5ng t6 0a2e sense 6f a33 6f th5s.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
I just got reminded of last Sat, when Nic and I were eating lunch at Crystal Jade, someone sitting at the next table suddenly went 'OMG have you heard 1 2 3 4 by Fay-est?'
WE DIED.
-----
If it wasn't for Biology practical in the morning - today would have been totally useless. It was probably the only reason (well that and I wanted to hear Brendan Ma) I dragged myself to school despite the fact I had a very bad night's rest & was still suffering from hyperacidity in my stomach, which makes me hungry all the damn time.
Worse still: BRENDAN DIDN'T EVEN WIN LEE SUAN YEW.
I feel cheated. All the contestants were so dull this year compared to last year, so it made for quite dull listening save for the occasional wtf moments like DOTA boy. Then Brendan lost to a particular junior (in !nk nonetheless) who I am not particularly fond of. Damnit. His prepared speech and impromptu were far superior as well, with the winner's speech not making any damn sense except to entertain. Nevertheless, I'm sure Brendan had his fun with his numerous innuendos peppered throughout the speeches like the unforgettable 'grab it by its haunches and thrust'.
Oh Brendan - you should have won.
-----
I stayed back in school to try and finish Hist IA. My peace was horribly ruined with the arrival of Sir Reverse Weeaboo and his entourage of International Friendship Day teachers (actually on second thought, how the hell were they involved?). They were horrified to find that we had been dismissed early AND that we had not known/done anything for International Friendship Day. Just as the remaining bunch of us started to worry about the shit Cheryl would get into, Reverse Weeaboo said WTY would be the one getting the shit. WTY, the useless teacher who was going to write OUR DAMN TESTIMONIALS. Ah fuck.
So as a few of us ran about half freaking out, JC dug out the poster backing from the distribution board and found a few pieces of white scrap paper. Thanks to the router in class, we had internet service and I logged onto the ever useful Wikipedia to do research on the Czech Republic. I procured a red kinokuniya bag (Christmas special) from under my desk and took a blue kinokuniya bag I saw behind Nic's seat. As Mai was writing out all the information on the poster, we improvised the 'pictures' criteria by grabbing random images, so on went a Spanish worksheet and a postcard of Switzerland I took from Career Day. Mai did the writing, JC did the cutting and assembling of the flag, Daryl LOLED like shit and a certain someone got in the way and irritated all of us who were rushing.
As we were finishing up, Reverse Weeaboo appeared again and told us to hurry up - because we'd get penalised for handing it up late. So I ended up grabbing it and randomly running to the lift landing. Why I did so, I had no idea since we had no banner to begin with. So this is the result of 20 minutes of rushing.
I like how someone misspelt my name.
WE DIED.
-----
If it wasn't for Biology practical in the morning - today would have been totally useless. It was probably the only reason (well that and I wanted to hear Brendan Ma) I dragged myself to school despite the fact I had a very bad night's rest & was still suffering from hyperacidity in my stomach, which makes me hungry all the damn time.
Worse still: BRENDAN DIDN'T EVEN WIN LEE SUAN YEW.
I feel cheated. All the contestants were so dull this year compared to last year, so it made for quite dull listening save for the occasional wtf moments like DOTA boy. Then Brendan lost to a particular junior (in !nk nonetheless) who I am not particularly fond of. Damnit. His prepared speech and impromptu were far superior as well, with the winner's speech not making any damn sense except to entertain. Nevertheless, I'm sure Brendan had his fun with his numerous innuendos peppered throughout the speeches like the unforgettable 'grab it by its haunches and thrust'.
Oh Brendan - you should have won.
-----
I stayed back in school to try and finish Hist IA. My peace was horribly ruined with the arrival of Sir Reverse Weeaboo and his entourage of International Friendship Day teachers (actually on second thought, how the hell were they involved?). They were horrified to find that we had been dismissed early AND that we had not known/done anything for International Friendship Day. Just as the remaining bunch of us started to worry about the shit Cheryl would get into, Reverse Weeaboo said WTY would be the one getting the shit. WTY, the useless teacher who was going to write OUR DAMN TESTIMONIALS. Ah fuck.
So as a few of us ran about half freaking out, JC dug out the poster backing from the distribution board and found a few pieces of white scrap paper. Thanks to the router in class, we had internet service and I logged onto the ever useful Wikipedia to do research on the Czech Republic. I procured a red kinokuniya bag (Christmas special) from under my desk and took a blue kinokuniya bag I saw behind Nic's seat. As Mai was writing out all the information on the poster, we improvised the 'pictures' criteria by grabbing random images, so on went a Spanish worksheet and a postcard of Switzerland I took from Career Day. Mai did the writing, JC did the cutting and assembling of the flag, Daryl LOLED like shit and a certain someone got in the way and irritated all of us who were rushing.
As we were finishing up, Reverse Weeaboo appeared again and told us to hurry up - because we'd get penalised for handing it up late. So I ended up grabbing it and randomly running to the lift landing. Why I did so, I had no idea since we had no banner to begin with. So this is the result of 20 minutes of rushing.
I like how someone misspelt my name.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
I'm not sure why (actually I have a vague idea, but I'm going to pretend I'm in denial about this) but I have been once more swept along an utter wave of irrational feelings. Cielo says enjoy the ride while it's lasts and don't think too much - but ack I can't stop thinking! Thinking that:
1) This is silly
2) I should be more sensible and not let it get to me
3) I don't even know this person
4) I really ought to be thinking of other stuff, like my HIST IA, WORLD LIT 2, HIST EE, TOK ESSAY, ECONS IA 5, MATH PROJECT
Conclusion: I shall attempt rather valiantly to assume a normal life (or as normal as a life like mine can ever get) while hoping for some greater, bigger, and nicely rounder out there!
Monday, April 07, 2008
I just had a rather horrible realisation (or maybe I'm being paranoid) that I'm a vaguely well known figure in school because:
1) I had a relationship with a certain someone
2) I kicked in a glass door and ended up taking the IB Chinese exams in a cast
and then well, there was the stuff last Tuesday & Thursday.
How wonderful ): I feel a little sick thinking about it.
1) I had a relationship with a certain someone
2) I kicked in a glass door and ended up taking the IB Chinese exams in a cast
and then well, there was the stuff last Tuesday & Thursday.
How wonderful ): I feel a little sick thinking about it.
Today started out weirdly.
In the morning, as I sat in a drug induced stupor munching on my ham sandwich, I spotted this large behemoth (it looked like it was the size of my clenched fist) of some vaguely insect-like thing flying towards me. As I ducked and freaked out simultaneously, it suddenly changed it's flight path - flew right into a wall with a thud and fell into a box (about 2m+ high) with a plop.
Then as we entered the CPA for chapel, the freaking laser ray gun from STARSHIP TROOPERS greeted us (while also severely impeding human traffic).
Later on during Econs, I discover I forgot there was an assignment (read: in class non open book essay) and started panicking - I've already failed one Econs test because I forgot about it and didn't study. Instead we watched the end of Life and Debt (with the most fascinating Jamaican accents - I would marry a Jamaican for the accent alone!). Phew.
As if the day wasn't odd enough, the clasp/hook on the back of my skirt fell off, so my skirt kept unzipping itself and threatened to fall off. Damned cheapo skirts. I ended up having to use my shawl as some belt to hold the thing up. I remember frantically looking for a safety pin (and for some reason I hear a mocking 'BE PREPARED AT ALL TIMES!' now) and having the vague idea of stealing the safety pin off the back of one of those green ribbons. Then I realised those pins were far too small.
On another note, this link has been sitting around my browser for the past few days. It's simply the most romantic letter I have ever read in my life, from the philosopher André Gorz to his wife. There's talk of his letters being compiled and translated into English for a book which I hope is true because I want that book.
-----
I'm obsessed with something completely pointless again. Woo hoo. Go me.
Except this one is worse-r than the last one.
In the morning, as I sat in a drug induced stupor munching on my ham sandwich, I spotted this large behemoth (it looked like it was the size of my clenched fist) of some vaguely insect-like thing flying towards me. As I ducked and freaked out simultaneously, it suddenly changed it's flight path - flew right into a wall with a thud and fell into a box (about 2m+ high) with a plop.
Then as we entered the CPA for chapel, the freaking laser ray gun from STARSHIP TROOPERS greeted us (while also severely impeding human traffic).
Later on during Econs, I discover I forgot there was an assignment (read: in class non open book essay) and started panicking - I've already failed one Econs test because I forgot about it and didn't study. Instead we watched the end of Life and Debt (with the most fascinating Jamaican accents - I would marry a Jamaican for the accent alone!). Phew.
As if the day wasn't odd enough, the clasp/hook on the back of my skirt fell off, so my skirt kept unzipping itself and threatened to fall off. Damned cheapo skirts. I ended up having to use my shawl as some belt to hold the thing up. I remember frantically looking for a safety pin (and for some reason I hear a mocking 'BE PREPARED AT ALL TIMES!' now) and having the vague idea of stealing the safety pin off the back of one of those green ribbons. Then I realised those pins were far too small.
On another note, this link has been sitting around my browser for the past few days. It's simply the most romantic letter I have ever read in my life, from the philosopher André Gorz to his wife. There's talk of his letters being compiled and translated into English for a book which I hope is true because I want that book.
-----
I'm obsessed with something completely pointless again. Woo hoo. Go me.
Except this one is worse-r than the last one.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
To my amazement, I actually got sunburned yesterday during the Swim Against Malaria. One of the songs (or rather bands) that I will forever associate with that event is MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE - because I am just *that* hardcore.
I was swimming one of the odd numbered laps and trying to concentrate on not drowning when MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE started being blasted through the sound system. The only reason I knew it was MCR was because it was from one of the songs that kept being blasted on the tv advertisement.
I wtf-ing in and out of the water (and because it was blasted so damn loud I could hear it even while I was underwater). Afterwards when I was bumming around, Lex and I started talking about the music being played and how I missed !!! and LCD Soundsystem earlier, and soon System of a Down and Marilyn Manson (according to Lex) started playing and Lex went off to change the offending iPod.
I have no idea why I am complaining about music again.
-----
Hooray for Arjun, who had cramps in his thigh around the 60 - 70th laps and still managed to complete a full 100 laps at the end of the event. Chun Wui also swam a commendable 100 laps and Ted Kin ran out of time and stopped at 90 laps, all the while complaining that he hated swimming. Jim, on the other hand, was bloody insane. Originally saying he'd swim 200 laps, he instead swam 400 laps! Which makes it 386 more laps than I did, and 390 laps more than drong did.
But the hero of the day was David Chan. Jim, fresh from his 400 laps was gay hugging Lex and decided Lex needed to cool off. So in went the non swimming Filipino and the 400 lap swimmer. Out came the 400 lap swimmer. Non swimming Filipino floundered about (at say, 1.5 - 1.6m). In went the hardworking David Chan (was he even supposed to be a lifeguard?) and saved the beloved head of discipline. OUR HERO!
I was swimming one of the odd numbered laps and trying to concentrate on not drowning when MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE started being blasted through the sound system. The only reason I knew it was MCR was because it was from one of the songs that kept being blasted on the tv advertisement.
I wtf-ing in and out of the water (and because it was blasted so damn loud I could hear it even while I was underwater). Afterwards when I was bumming around, Lex and I started talking about the music being played and how I missed !!! and LCD Soundsystem earlier, and soon System of a Down and Marilyn Manson (according to Lex) started playing and Lex went off to change the offending iPod.
I have no idea why I am complaining about music again.
-----
Hooray for Arjun, who had cramps in his thigh around the 60 - 70th laps and still managed to complete a full 100 laps at the end of the event. Chun Wui also swam a commendable 100 laps and Ted Kin ran out of time and stopped at 90 laps, all the while complaining that he hated swimming. Jim, on the other hand, was bloody insane. Originally saying he'd swim 200 laps, he instead swam 400 laps! Which makes it 386 more laps than I did, and 390 laps more than drong did.
But the hero of the day was David Chan. Jim, fresh from his 400 laps was gay hugging Lex and decided Lex needed to cool off. So in went the non swimming Filipino and the 400 lap swimmer. Out came the 400 lap swimmer. Non swimming Filipino floundered about (at say, 1.5 - 1.6m). In went the hardworking David Chan (was he even supposed to be a lifeguard?) and saved the beloved head of discipline. OUR HERO!
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