One of the positively worst emotions to feel is that of helplessness. As I write this, sitting in my room facing the busy main road, someone just across the road from me is lying on the asphalt. Now some 15 minutes after I first heard the bang of initial impact between motorcycle and car front wheel bumper - I hear the wail of an ambulance which is undoubtedly stuck in traffic somewhere behind. I personally wonder if it is the same paramedics in the ambulance as the ones that were right outside my doorstep yesterday, also tending to yet another road accident victim.

After the first bang, I did what all good kay poh Singaporeans concerned civic minded people do: I went outside to have a look. It was mainly to see if I could give any help, like call the ambulance or something, but a few people had already encircled the yellow shirted figure that was lying prone on the ground and I figured that they didn't need any more useless help. It's situations like this that I sometimes wish I had gone into Nursing school instead of trying to kill myself with the IB Programme (except there is one fatal flaw: how can a nurse be afraid of blood?)

I sometimes try to console myself with the idea that I'm a certified first aider, except this in itself is very fail because my own license has lapsed (I vow to renew it next year when I have the time!) and I don't think I can remember very much of the stuff I learned. Oh dear indeed.

Reading the newspapers earlier (speaking of which, did anyone read the piece of yellow journalism smashed right on the front page of The Straits Times on the 27th June? If not, read it's wonderful yellowness here) before the unmistakable sound of metal being crushed I read a terrifying article about a NUS student that got raped in Clementi Woods Park. The thing I find the scariest about it is that:

1) It happened to a university student - that's me in about 2 years
2) It happened in Singapore - what more when compared to other cities with higher crime rates?

The worst possible thing that could ever happen to a woman in my opinion is that of sexual assault. It is even worse than death because at least when I'm dead I'm not psychologically traumatised. I'm just very dead. I won't suffer from post traumatic disorder, I won't suffer from nightmares and I won't suffer from immense paralysing paranoia. So yes, I'd rather be killed first then raped, rather then the reverse where I'm freaking out as I'm dying. Also: I don't know why I'm thinking about such morbid stuff at 1:30 in the afternoon.

This brings me back to a point that Cheam brought up the other day when I was talking to him, which was to learn Krav Maga or some other self defense derivative. The thought of someone like me being all bulked up and hopping around trying to punch someone's lights out however, is extremely laughable. Still, the fear of being caught in a situation where one is helpless is very real and one that should be addressed whenever possible - just like the one I will encounter tomorrow when I face a Paper 1 Math exam that I have not studied for yet :/