Basket.

Taking a break from some SAT preparations to write this post.

Never thought I'll have worries after an exam, but this time I do, and the irritating, expensive and utterly useless American aptitude test is the least of them.

The issue weighing most heavily upon my mind the past few days has been whether to get rid of Maths just so I can finally rid myself of a decade-long bogeyman. There are firm arguments now for both sides; what I conside ra firm argument, however, is not so much practical reasons like "Where can 3 A-Level subjects and one S-Paper get you", but matters of the heart. Admonish me for thinking such, but that is just the way I work.

On the one hand, I can finally trash learning numbers and highly-vexing trigo formulae, and wake up to every day as a glorious one with no Maths at all. I have no doubt this will be a wonderful feeling. What is more, the practical element: no need to ever have to worry about screwing up the A-Levels just because of this one subject.

Ranged against these potent forces of emotion and reason are just as strong factors indicating it is not such a good choice to make. Actually, just one great and important one I can see; the fact that I would be disappointing many people, not least a certain big-headed guy, if I do this.

Seriously, there is absolutely no practical value for me to continue taking Maths at such an advanced level. I'll just learn, maybe piah like shit and finish the exam, then JC, then leave school and forget it all. What the hell is the use of this? Nothing at all. And no shit about it being my duty and my responsibility, please. The Maths qualifications I have are more than enough for my entire life. I hate the subject and seem not to be able to do well at it, so why bother?

What may end up keeping me in Maths would be raw emotion and a desire not to let people down. It has been virtually the only reason why I have not dropped the whole thing so far despite seriously considering it more than once. In fact, I was more or less convinced by the logic of doing away with the subject next year until that phone call, that reason given, that touched me so.

Things seem to be more or less in order now though. I think basically I have three possible outcomes and courses of action: If I get 1 S, it will be tough, but probably give myself trial period, until Common Test next year (as was begged), if I get 2 S I drop it like a hot potato, and if I get no S, it definitely stays. Those seem eminently reasonable courses of action to me.

One thing that has sort of surprised me is the negative reactions I have received from most regarding this topic (some of them even strongly negative). Why, seriously? Is it so ingrained within a Singaporean mindset that all JC students must take 4 A Levels and one must be Maths? Perhaps that is the main underlying factor; people are simply not used to this. Of course there are exceptions, but I strongly suspect this to be the bedrock of many people's thoughts.

The future is uncertain. All one can do is wait.

I thought I had it all planned out. All set out. Try for 3 A Level subjects and 1 S paper, or 3 A Levels and 2 S Papers. Maths would go right out the door and leave me alone forever and ever and I could wake up every morning bright and happy in the knowledge that there would be no Maths that day and every day after it yayayayayay!

Then Zihao calls and spoils it all.

That guy... I'm speechless. He is an incredible person; I don't think I've ever seen anyone this way. When he told me over the phone that he didn't want me to drop Maths because then he would not have been able to help me and would not get the chance to, it literally moved me to tears. It was just so... noble, altruistic, earnest. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, but it was very, very touching. To know that there are people out there who care for you and want to help you so is very comforting indeed.

And I was almost sure of it today. Now it's blown wide open again and I am left in a dilemma; no more Maths for the rest of my life or let down (in a way) someone who cares so much about me? It is difficult indeed. Practicality has no part in this; it is a question of the heart.

Sigh. I must think.

Hmm... looks like more (read: ex-classmates from RI) have found out about this place. Not a problem, I guess, but I wonder how? Are there so many little birds around to tell them?

The second-last week (and last full week of school) is ending. Already. First time at this stage of a year that so much is still uncertain, so much is still unknown and so much is still "probable" and "likely". First time not everything is settled after the exam results come out. First time I still have to study after an exam.

SAT this Saturday. I hope not to muck it up. It'll be another load off my mind come this weekend, and that is certainly a good thing.

I caught a fish for my exams. A COD. Nice eh?

Ok, the good news is I now know all my results, so there's no more tension and worrying. The bad news is, they aren't fantastic, to say the least, and leaves any S-Paper hopes seriously in doubt. But heck, I can live without one, to speak the truth, although might be a bit sad about it.

It's over in any case, so do what I can and then forget.

Back to school tommorrow, back to face the teachers, back to find out promo results, back to the daily grind, back to another week of tutorials and probably a profusion of red marks.

The very thought makes me sick. And the one consolation is I'll be back to face 1A01C again. In times like this, I simply can't do without them.

Shit. Survive this week.

An amazing piece of luck at last: History Week postponed to next year. That just freed up so much time to study for SAT and get the irritating shit over and done with. Not to mention enabling me to devote some more resources to IPW.

It also marks the virtual end of CCA for me this year, aside from a last issue of Outlook. Valuable time and such can thus be freed up to concentrate on IPW and slacking. Wow.

12.40am in the morning, and my light is just about the only one burning on the street. Considering my neighbourhood's demographic is in the middle-aged range, that isn't a surprise. Tommorrow may be a weekend, but some people still have to work, and those that do not, have to sleep, being unable or unwilling to stay up and enjoy the pleasures the night can grant.

It's an amazingly peaceful night. Even the neighbours' usually fucking noisy dogs are silent. Even the stray cats are silent. The only thing I hear is my computer playing Johan de Meiji's beautiful Highlights from Chess, as well as the soft hum of the electric fan.

It is nights like this which I wish can last forever, but never do. Story of our existence.

Quite a fun Open House today, even if it wasn't as crowded as last year, when they sent the entire RI sec 4 cohort down. I did a lot of stuff, from manning the History board(s) and even the guitar booth to playing Risk, slacking in SR 4 and simply sitting in the hall playing guitar and reliving old times. I even attended the Q and A session in LT1 and several times felt compelled to reveal the hypocrisy of Hodge's statements.

So it appears most of my juniors are coming or at least will be trying to come to RJ. Prelim results suck though, so I wonder...

Basically though, the work I did was all before Open House itself. Today was a relatively slack day. To elaborate on the first paragraph, morning consisted of sitting at the HISSOC booth eating sweets and entertaining the occasional visitor. After some time of this, I went up to the hall and found the guitar booth, where I sat down and played guitar for a while. Good old James even brought his RI guitar file, and the scores inside stirred quite some memories.

My time at the booth ended when Shuang Ning requested her guitar back, so I went downstairs again and got myself into an exciting game of Risk. Aaron and I, however, were no match for Tse Yang's power. I had to leave at 12.15 to man the History board at LT 2.5. I was there a lot of the day too, and even won a sweet from Mr Eric Lee when I correctly placed some rock samples into Igneous, Metamorphic and Sedimentary at the neighbouring Geog board.

History board was nothing much, just entertaining the occasional visitor (and I really do mean occasional), be it student or parent. Most were very gracious, but I got the feeling not many really wanted to do the subject or their children to do the subject. Oh well, it isn't my concern.

In the afternoon I returned to playing Risk, to find Tse Yang holding most of the world and Aaron battling for survival in Greenland. He lost pretty quick, and I resumed my game from Hana, with my men all squeezed into just four territories in the centre of North America. Despite fierce resistance, tse Yang quickly took three of those and I retreated into Alberta to fight to the bitter end. He decided to end his turn and I simply flung what I had left at him, being wildly successful at first as he lost 10 armies to my 2. But it was simply trying to hold back a tidal wave with a broom; he had me roundly surrounded with over 100 armies in total bordering me. No escape. I attacked and attacked and eventually lost 15 armies to his 20+. The game ended with 79 of his men attacking one of mine. I rolled a one on the dice and he triumphantly sealed victory.

That done, I continued walking around looking at the various stalls and displays, stopping on the way to talk with a few juniors and to attend the Q and A, then doing one last shift at the History board. I finished the day for Open House with a brief stint manning the guitar booth, the purpose being that I would be able to attract RIGE sec 4s and persuade them to join guitar.

I then watched the finale and went to SR 4 to slack along with some of the HISSOC exco, which took about 45 minutes. Then I went home and did nothing much.

So that was it; the full circle's turned and gone.

This computer obstinately refused to boot up yesterday, 3 times. I hope it is alright because I really don't want to lose data accumulated over nearly three years, including a wonderful collection of mp3s and countless other important files and programs.

In the real world, I have been extremely busy doing Open House. And anyone who drops in on the HISSOC exco at work would find it unjust to say we are but an academic society. In fact we practise many disciplines, including but not limited to, menial unskilled labour, skilled specialist labour, mass production and even primitive, pre-industrial age forms of production. And my feet are fucking killing me. I must have walked more than the distance to the Moon and back between SR 4 and the Concourse today, and I envisage more of the same tommorrow. It is enough to make Industry (root form of the word industrious) swear and play the tyrant.

On a vastly different note, tommorrow is the day it all comes full circle, when we turn from being the busloads, to receiving the busloads. Follow-up after it all ends.

This coming week will see Open House 2003. So it has come full circle - now we're the ones organising it, we'll be the ones talking to sec 4s about RJC, we'll be the ones showcasing our CCAs, we'll be the ones on the other side of the looking glass.

It also reminds me that it has been nearly a year since we left RI on the coaches bringing us down to where most of us would eventually spend the coming year. Open House 2002. I remember it so clearly, even down to the minor details of what I did during the bus journey. The only thing I can't recall is the exact date...

It was a bright, sunny morning, I remember. We came to school as usual and after a last HM Assembly, boarded the buses. I remember we didn't have enough space for everyone to sit down, so some people were standing; it was more than one class to a bus. I remember I found a seat, but it was rather cramped. I know that traffic was heavy and the journey took longer than it should have. Zhaonan was standing, and I wanted to stretch, so I exchanged places with him and let him have the seat.

I know we were pretty boisterous. Winston, Andee and Zhongwei were swapping jokes and talking loudly, and I bantered with them across the bus while trying to maintain balance by gripping the pole near the exit.

Eventually we got to RJ and alighted, to be given paper bags with "Kaleidoscope" written on them. I remember the most memorable thing on the way in was seeing the China scholar who appeared on the Chinese version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. The bag had a bottle of Newater and a book introducing RJC.

Once in, we were pretty much free to go wherever we pleased. We went as a group, me, Winston, Weijie, Andee and Zhongwei. I know one of our destinations, the place where we stayed the longest, was room 1-4, where the various Faculty Captains were. We talked extensively with the CPS Captain, Huixin, I think her name was, and she told us a lot about RJC in particular, including how to get those S Papers. She also recognised me, and the reason is obvious. Wasn't the first or the last that day to do so.

After that we just pretty much walked all over the school. We also went into LT 1 to watch a video, which showed Xantheus, Orientation 2002, and found out a bit about the other subjects. I remember coming across Prac Crit questions in room 1-10.

I left at about noon, and the rest went to Ghim Moh for lunch.

That day, however, was but one of the more than 800 I spent in RI over four years.

One year after I left (and what a year it has been, but that's another story, another long blog post)... it is a good time to reflect on what I did in RI.

I remember the first day clear as a bell. I was still sad over leaving my primary school classmates, the majority of which went to Chinese High and Nanyang Girls'. I didn't really want to go to RI, and in fact was once headed for Chinese High. So well, I faced it with a certain amount of skepticism.

My brother was in sec 3 then. We went in together, and first thing I saw was the swirling crowd on the Astroturf which would eventually become a familiar sight. Not knowing where to go, I instinctively plunged in and managed to find the place where the PSLs were gathering the new sec 1s.

Then it was off to the Hall for our first Headmaster's Assembly. And Wong Siew Hoong. His first speech to us was unforgettable. Ask any RI guy from my batch. Napoleon, anyone? We continue to laugh about it now.

It seems amazing this was all nearly five years ago. I can't believe sometimes it was that long since I wore tight white shorts to school everyday. Ok fine, mine wasn't that tight, unlike some other people's...

Ok, onward. I remember the PSLs gathered the sec 1s after assembly (and after we checked our classes) and went out to the Astroturf to practice assemblying. Nothing much happened then. next we went up to classrooms, in the then newly-finished Junior Block. 1E classroom was all the way up, six flights of stairs to climb.

So we got there, and it was time for icebreakers. I remember the first person I spoke to was Nikhil. The PSLs? how can I forget them? Wee Yang, Junkai, Leon, Najip, Kenneth Bok... and damn, I really cannot recall the name of the last one. I even remember who were the strict ones and who were the nice ones.

SO we introduced each other. If I remember rightly, Zihao was the third name I had to remember (Abiel and Roy were the first two, I think), and somehow no one could remember my name. Quite funny.

Then it was time for recess, and I remember Kaushik came back late and the PSLs had to go find him.

That was about it for the first day. First day in RI, first day in secondary school.

Once again, I can't believe it has been that long. Close to five years, or half a decade since I first became a Rafflesian. The first time I stepped into RI as a student, to the last time I stepped out as one: 4th January 1999 to 27th November 2002; over 800 school days, perhaps a hundred more times I came during the holidays, and countless hours spent within the compound of Raffles Institution. Countless more hours spent on doing things related to RI. It is an incredible length of time, and it just zipped by so fast.

Yet how was it? A wonderful experience. Ask any RI or ex-RI guy and he will tell you that. RI was incredible. I did so much there and I remember so much from there. From sec 1, Orientation Camp and torture, History lessons and Lifeskills with Allan Soo, chess with Zihao during recess, Jeanie Cheah's lessons, English Day, making friends and knowing people... oh and how could I forget, Project I-Learning. And a lot more besides. Sec 2, better yet. Homeroom system, 2 I-Learning weeks,lessons with Mrs Jasbir Koh, happy days in the homeroom with Zihao and Yen Yeong playing San Guo and picking up the occasional booking from a then-newbie prefect and former class monitor called John Nehemiah Samuel. Not to mention having a classmate in the MOELC by the name of Amogh Nallan Chakravati, whose brother Archit I knew from the RIGE.

Sec 3, new class and oreintation all over again. Kena sunburn. Agony. Both arms, the back of my neck and my ears. But it was quite fun overall, especially after the thunderstorm on the last night saved used from the torture-chamber like game. I still remember how horrid the food from the Sentosa Cafe was though (I particularly remember the burnt porridge for supper on the first night), and Selvan's idea of pitching tents was ridiculous.

Sec 3 was fun, yeah. Made new friends, and continued to stay in touch with old ones. Began my bridge habit, but in those early days, got caught quite a few times. I look back fondly on the days when tiao-ed each other rather than listen during lessons; racist jokes for Avinash, mugger jokes for Winston, corny jokes with just about everyone.

And we got Grace Chong. And Wei Jing, my little-known FT 2. I think in one year we exchanged less than ten words. Grace Chong was well, what can I say. Not so bad I guess, looking back at it. But pretty moralistic at times. Brian Ng? Ha, that was funny. His SS lessons rocked; they very often had nothing to do with SS at all.

Then after all that revelry and getting rather poor results for my End of Year, came sec 4. The penultimate year. And the realisation that this was turly, the last year. At the beginning of it I thought we'll be mugging straight for one year, but I was proved wrong. We had so much fun. From class barbecues to NMAs to more corny jokes... sigh.

CCA-wise, my last guitar camp, and the most fun. Finally got to torture people; push-ups in the rain at Bishan Park, anyone? My last RAGE concert too, and last performance, I had decided, i would ever take part in. No more guitar in JC.

Then very quickly it was Common Test, which I fucked up. 24 points, failed 2 sub, one A1, one A2. And both in the Humanities! This, a mere two months from prelims. I remember having remedial for both Maths, Physics and Chem, and doing paper after paper to brush myself up. Tan Mui Hong helped so much though; I still hear her going "Bring down power, power minus one..." when doing Chain rule nowadays.

Then it was all a whirl. Prelim 9 points; I remember what a scare I had. Got 2 A1s and one A2 on the last day of results release. I thought I wouldn't make it to RJ from the past two days' results, but the last day got me in. After moderation, 8 points.

Then it was continued brishing up and nothing much more... until the day of Open House 2002.

Now it has all come full circle.

One year... so short.

Ok, I got to bitch. Again. Again, it concerns the two people who conceived me.

I can't stand it ok. Before exam, they also have things to scold me about. After, they also have things to say. Not so much the results part, thankfully, or I'll have no end of this. Hell not as if there's an end now.

So Promos over. For all practical purposes, as the last paper is the thorn in my side. I want to start on Saturday and I get accused of sloth. Fuck it, ok? Sometimes I just want to say that. As it is, I just shut the hell up most of the time now and ignore. Yes, ignore. The best thing to do under such circumstances. Fuck ok? Fuck fuck fuck. It's my own goddamn life and I will bloody well decide how to fucking live it.

Why are they so pissed? there isn't anything to be pissed about. I haven't done anything wrong to the best of my knowledge. Or maybe they think I have. The gap is too wide. There is no way. We are too different.

Why do I always think things will be better after exams? that the quarrels will stop? Empirical evidence lends completely no support to such hypotheses. There is always something to scold about, something to nag about, something to be pissed at me about. I always do something wrong. Why? They almost seem to be looking for things sometimes. Things to say. Things to be angry about.

Shit. Life sucks. Completely. Totally. And I do not need anything to make it worse ok? Especially not from people who are supposed to love you, care about you and lend support in your worst moments.

Ha. that last sentence almost sounds like a bad joke in my situation. When was the last fucking time it happened?

Post-promos. Ok, fine, not technically, but whatever. Well, it's been nearly two days. Not bad at all, I would say... except occasional bouts of fearing what results I'll get back, which will probably not be very good anyway.

Or is that an understatement? Pray it not be.

Been spending the time on chatting, surfing, Chess, NetBig2, Worms Armageddon and the like, in between reading dirty jokes which I realise I now get far more easily than when I was in Primary 4.

So, there. Post-promo life is all about sex and violence. Ooo.

Wow. There are advertisments for TV Mobile ON TV MOBILE. Fantastic. And the claims they make are excellent as well: "Viewership has gone up!" Ooo, you mean anyone who steps on the bus HAS A FUCKING CHOICE AS TO WHETHER THEY WANT TO LOOK AT THAT ASININE, UTTERLY IRRITATING BOX? Yes, if you sit, like, behind the driver. Or on the roof. A bunch of bloody retards. And don't get me even started on the stupid street surveys. "TV Mobile is great!" Please.

In other news, I ahve totally screwed my Maths Promo paper. I am headed straight for NUS. Not that I really mind anyway.

"Would I get results,
Even if I studyyy..."

Shit. I must be nuts, why the fuck am I writing my own stupid lyrics to Tears in Heaven? Stupid promo stress is driving everyone off the deep end. Or, in my case, perhaps just accelerating the descent.

What can I say after three days of exams? Nothing, just to pray.

FUCK! FUCK THE DRILLING! PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO STUDY HERE AND YOU PICK THIS TIME TO DO FUCKING ROADWORKS!WHAT THE FUCK! EXCELLENT TIMING! WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THE STUPID PAVEMENT ANYWAY??? CAN WALK WHAT! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU NEED TO TEAR THE BLOODY THING UP!

THE BLOODY DRILLING IS IRRITATING THE HELL OUT OF ME! FUCK IT! STUPID BANGLAS I HOPE THEY ALL DIE IN HORRIFIC INDUSTRIAL ACCIDENTS! NO! WHAT DIE! LET THEM ALL BE HORRIFICALLY MANGLED FOR LIFE SO THEY CANNOT WORK ANYMORE AND MUST GO BACK TO BANGLADESH AND DIE IN THE WEEKLY CYCLONES! DREAM OF ELECTRICITY FOR YOUR MUD-HUT VILLAGE GONE EH?

AND THE ASSHOLES IN THE PWD WHO SEE THE CONSTANT NEED FOR THIS! MAY THEY SUFFER STRANGE ACCIDENTS WITH THE WATER COOLER IN THE OFFICE SO THEY CAN BECOME QUADRIPLEGICS WHO MUST SPEND THE REST OF THEIR LIVES LYING DOWN ON A BED SUFFERING FROM BEDSORES AND HAVING TO BE FED THROUGH A HOLE IN THEIR THROATS, AFTER BEING ABANDONED BY ALL THEIR GROWN-UP CHILDREN! THEN WE'LL HAVE CONSTANT ROADWORKS BY THE HOSPITAL AND SEE WHETHER THEY LIKE LISTENING TO THE BLOODY SOUNDS FOR THE REST OF THEIR SORRY EXISTENCES, EH?

FUCK.

"Death be not proud, for you..." fuck, what the hell, I can't remember. The heck with it. I'm so Donne for tommorrow, dammit. Oh well, got to accept my fate.

Originally planned to do an entire Donne poem in 13375p34k but it would have taken too much mugging time. Maybe later.

A nice, quiet Saturday. Did not do much except study for Lit on Monday and consume a vast amount of pistachio nuts while doing so. The shells keep me entertained, and the nuts don't taste bad either.

I can almost taste freedom. Now if only it would hurry up and come.

For the first day of promos RJ gave to me,
a big fucking screwing and a probable C

-To the tune of "Twelve Days of Christmas".

Or so I hope it doesn't turn out that way. Never mind that now.

The point is, we are down one subject and a bit. Enough cause for a bit of elatedness, until the results come back that is.

Exams aside, it wasn't a bad day at all, although it didn't bloody hell have to turn so friggin hot at the end. Walked to the MRT with Winston; may seem like a small thing but he's a good friend I don't get to see all that often anymore so it felt nice. One must always return to one's memories now and then to seek solace from the cold, hard world.

Got home, and I want to take the night off but obviously can't afford to.

Today, October 8th, 2003. What happened? Too much, too many, it is difficult to record. Yet the sky is blue everyday, isn't it? RJC is always three stories, painted green and white and has five LTs, isn't it? People continue to attend school, don't they? And so it was yesterday, it was today, and it will be tommorrow, when Wong Siew Hoong will be a bloody Guest of Honour for some funny reason.

What, why, when... how is it I don't understand?

Where are we all, and what are we all? ExistenZ... the fuck with it. The main point is not to understand but to remember. And remember with panache. Do what you do with zest and enthusiasm, and do it right, or you'll be left out. Hard done by Donne. US, SU? Which? The death of it all looms. Come it at a time when all are happy and joyful? Hopefully and hopefully not. Nopefully hot. efpohuyllnto.

Wonder? I wonder what is wonder. The sense of it, or the very act of it? Should we, or is it but a vice and a frivolity? Look upon objects and see them for what they are, stripped, bare, just the essential function which can hopefully benefit you. Or perhaps harm you. Who knows? Who cares? Whoistheretocare?

That's the way it is. The way the cookie crumbles. The urinals at school were clogged up. The newspaper rack is empty and has been for days. No more free AWSJs, awww. They made good scraps. Shit. Hell, what is this all comin... what is this, in fact? The central assumption? Let us question it. Let us argue. Let us write a thesis statement.

The revolving, revolting world. What is within? Nothing, nothing at all? Or too many things to catch in one fell swoop. Who knows? Have we all seen the inside? Sneak peeks, previews? Or the entire film at a stretch? Was it free, or subsidised? What did it cost, I wonder. How did we pay, by cash or plastic, or GIRO? Hahaha. The darkness of a cinema theatre.

Why do I write? I write like a madman. I type like one, rather. It sounds like a madman, it reads like one and is probably by one. The speed of it? Well think what you like. Just understand. Or not, because we don't ever.

It is incredible. The worthiness. The weight of it all. Makes no sense when you think about it. Emails, MSN, ICQ. What is it all worth? All free? Opportunity cost I suppose. Can't get your work done while chatting. Or placing extensive amounts of tongue smilies. Although they look cute, like the pigeon with the mutated foot in Ghim Moh. Ooo, all those bubbles of flesh. I wonder what would happen if I caught it and burst them one by one. Would it scream? Can a bird scream? Does it know what a needle can do at all? Weird, weird, weirder than weird.

What the fuck. That's just it. Sums everything up sometimes, or is it most of the time? Profanity is bad for you. Don't curse. Don't swear. Yeah, shit. What the bloody hell then, that is milder, isn't it? Or is it still wrong?

Wrong? Everything is wrong. Wronger than wrong. It makes you wonder sometimes. What is the real invisible hand? Of divine persuasion, not political economy. The invisible hand of the Almighty. We'll all be Donne for yet. And who wants to enter Heaven? Hell is so much more fun. Not that I believe either of them exist, of course, the fuck with it.

What is the point, right? Why is the sky blue? Who can explain it, really? Who in the end. And to speak of it would be too much to ask for. Confusing. Confusing, confusing, confusing. Let us look elsewhere, like out of the window into a pitch darkness. Nothing at all, except the orange glow of street lamps.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. Fuck.

Yes, wonderful. I'm lovin' it. Ha, McDonalds'. Epitome of capitalism. Hail the great Lenin and Marx, saviour of the proletarian classes. Nice beard too, Engels.

We'll be there yet. Differences, so great, the chasm so wide, the mood so foul. I wonder and wonder and wonder whycan'tsomethingsjustnothappenatall? Turn back the clock, and wish you were travelling in time. Ha, yes. Of course. The speed of light indeed. 3.0 X 10tothepowerofwhatthefuck. Shit. Physics is the fucking pits, but are they deep enough?

"Oh, think twice, it's another day for you and me in paradise..."

Yes indeed. Another day, another day, another day. To dawn bright and early and bring upon us paradoxes, oxymorons, heartbreak and malapropisms. Not to mention anagrams. Yes, wordplay is the rocks.

Embittered. Disillusioned. Tired. Sleepy. Don'tfuckingwannacareanymore.

Right? Absolutely. Left no doubt about it. The existential paradoxes of our very being within this universe. Hell, hell hell hell. Theexistentialparadoxesofourverybeingwithinthisuniverse. Yeeeee.

Better? better? Punkchewayshen, my boy. Adn sceperllig too. Ooo lovely, I like making mistakes on purpose. Even if I don't, they come anyway, so might as well, eh? Hee hee %#T#Y$@$@&$@

Originality and creativity. Entrepeneurship. Factors of production. Economics and many many complicated graphs are present, along with explanantions. And Sloman the God. yes, yes, give it all to me, I'm looking forward to it all. Blast.

Let us see how long we can do this. Read. Read this post with your Tarling. Tarling and Darling Ooo. Shit. What the fuck.

What the hell is up? Eh ehe eh heck heck heck. Let me cough, hopefully it'll be blood and TB.

Fluorescent light on pallid faces. WhAtCaNiSaY?

Life is full of paradoxes. You meet them everywhere, lurking in some dark corner of the TS, waiting just to pounce and strike you with that sense of wonder, bewilderment and final, excruciating realisation.

If only things were that beautiful.

The truth is, life itself is a bloody paradox. No, wait, a paradox actually makes sense at the end of the day. Life doesn't. It is so senseless. You are born, out of no choice of yours, into a place which again you have no control over, to grow up in a foreign, so to speak, land which you may not even like. And this land may have a hellish education system and an extremely competitive, materialistic society where there nominally are rules, laws and methods, but which in fact is the epitome of social Darwinism and lives by the one statement: "Survival of the fittest".

Of course, I did not just describe Singapore. Of course, I am also well-known for cutting sarcasm.

So, life. Life in Singapore, life as we have known it for the past seventeen years. A life where failure is an option only on the policy papers of nameless, faceless bureaucrats of the Ministry of Education. A life where you are cut absolutely no slack by no one from the moment you step into THE CLASSROOM as a bright-eyed, innocent seven-year-old. A life where one's ability is judged by his or her ability to perform well in a set number of questions in a set period of time held in a set place on a set date in order to achieve the set targets for admission into a set number of so-called "good" schools. A LIFE WHERE YOU DO NOT EVEN HAVE BLOODY COMPLETE FREEDOM OF CHOICE AS TO WHAT YOU WANT TO STUDY IN SCHOOL FOR THE FIRST TWELVE YEARS OF YOUR EXISTENCE.

"Go and get this done. Hand it up by tommorrow."
"If you don't pass... I mean, don't get absolute A++++++ for this test..."
"I am so disappointed in you."

How familiar are the above to our ears? The basic rules of the game is, study hard, go to good schools, do well there with 4 As and 2 (fine, 3 if you so wish) S Paper distinctions, go to a prestigious university on PSC scholarship, come back, get a comfortable job in the civil service and then work until you die. Those who are unable to achieve the above, you failures, utter disappointments, wastes of sperm, shall end up driving those who can around in taxis, cleaning up after them in restaurants or sweeping the pavement splattered with the dirty water their gleaming new foreign cars splash up on rainy days. Fail an exam? You are a failure for life. No second chances. Society will grant you none. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Simple to understand, simple to follow.

Please let such a thing as reincarnation not exist. I do not wish to live again.

Another day of returning home and not wanting to believe the fucking nonsense I see on the Internet. Not wanting to believe there are such imbecilic human beings out there who can write ABSOLUTE FUCKING CRAP THAT IS SO GODDAMN BLOODY STUPID, UNTRUE AND FULL OF SHIT!

Idiots. Fucking idiots and assholes for not realising it. The world is full of them. And why am I not the least bit surprised he's American? that country is fast becoming synonymous with "fucking retard".

First email from my brother today... and as always my computer-illiterate parents were fussing over it. Apparently he is settling in well, which is good.

Exams begin this week. Keep my fingers crossed.

As I sat over my relatively modest dinner of chicken and heated 3-day-old fried rice (my parents were at a wedding dinner), reading once more the messages of goodwill various people had sent today, I felt... contented. And happy. And warm. All my worries seemed so little, and all my troubles so small, and the once-great fretting of the impending promos was reduced to a tiny voice within my head which I barely paid attention to.

Friends just do that to you, don't they? And therein lies their incredible importance. No man (or woman) is an island indeed.The best moments of these 17 years... have been those I have spent with all my friends down the years, and in 2003 alone, I have acquired enough great memories to last me more than one lifetime.

Thanks again, guys, and girls. You people have been wonderful.

So. I'm 17. Erm, wow?

Anyway, it is technically Saturday but everyone knows it is still Friday night. So, what happened "yesterday"? Not much, really. Another dreary day of lessons brightened by public humiliation at Macs and the chance to meet some old classmates.=p

I just love being with the old 4E guys, especially the likes of Zhongwei and Winston. We can really talk dirty and it's fun, with all the f-words, c-words and all that... vast vocabularies we all possess, and we are able to summon it for good use in such conversations.

Sigh... the good old days.

Where do all the weeks go?!

So it's happened. My brother is on British Airways Flight 16, probably leaving Malaysian airspace about now... off to whole new sights, whole new sounds, whole new smells... a whole new world. And I'll be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't miss him one bit.

The fact is, I miss him a lot, far more than I'll like to admit. Yet of course it is inevitable and he is going to study and I should wish him all the best and all... however one simply cannot help it. Humans are imperfect and never in complete control of their feelings.

From now, I'll be effectively an only child. After 17 years, that is going to take some getting used to.