The Pages of Yesteryear

This blog is on indefinite hiatus. Well, actually it’s dead, but it’s not dead dead at the same time. So I call it an “indefinite hiatus” haha, in case one day I might just decide to continue here again, but I doubt so.

Actually, the main reason why I haven’t deleted this blog is because I see it as a symbol of human memory, or my own memory at least. I mean, now that we send emails instead of snail mail, download songs instead of buying the entire disc, it would also make sense to store memories online, no?

Maybe one day parents can even decide, upon the birth of their child, what kind of memory to purchase for their child, like if you’re rich you can afford 100TB to last your super child his whole lifetime and if you’re poor, well, basically what you get is a kid with the memory of a goldfish.

Anyway, I haven’t stopped blogging, it’s just that I’ve moved to a new blog site about a year ago, but I just never announced it till today. And I don’t recall telling anyone about this, so for all the people who have ever linked me in the past, this can be considered a dead link I suppose?

So I cannot understand how some people have still managed to link me way before today. You stalking me?

Kind of stupid to stop blogging completely here and jump straight into another. But I just felt that something has changed, and for a while I couldn’t stand looking at this site.

I know I did some pretty dumb (and some downright embarrassing) things in the past, but it would be moot to delete anything because the Internet remembers. Oh well, at least I admit I was quite brainless a while back!

Strangely though, I don’t quite regret doing the things I did. I’m not exactly proud of some of the things I did, but those incidents will never come back to haunt me. Okay, maybe those times when I blogged about killing roaches. Damn them, they’re still appearing.

I don’t talk about the weather, or roaches (not much anyway) on my not-so-new blog. I’m not as angsty, nor as insulting. Maybe I’ve grown milder?

Or maybe not. I would like to think of it as being more “refined” (yes, you may laugh). I derive no joy being in-your-face sarcastic now, I’ve outgrown that phase already. Instead I hone my claws in a more polished manner (pun intended!).

I’ve been blogging about serious issues — well, as serious as I can get haha. I don’t even know what I’m blogging about, maybe some random nonsense here and there. Okay, so maybe I haven’t grown much of a brain all these while.

Shh

Don’t talk to me, blog, because I don’t want to know how removed I am from who I was.

And I’m Moving On

About time, too.

All it took was an innocuous blogpost from someone else’s blog to shove that realization in my face. Not that the post was directed at me, but it reminded me of well, myself. It’s that kind of thing you only understand in retrospect.

There was just this period of time when I was like, the haughtiest person on earth. I do admit I haven’t really diverged very much from that supercilious nature, given that half the time I seem to be mocking someone, but it’s different now.

How do I explain myself? It’s like, I used to allow my dissatisfaction with someone or something to manifest itself in a really contemptuous post that made me slightly happier. Call it venting, verbal abuse, same difference. It’s rather obvious I’ve stopped doing that for quite some time, but not because nothing annoys me. I guess I’ve learnt how to manage things.

Or call it growing up.

In the past I used to complain about how I had “no choice”, because the school made me do this and that, and I didn’t want to at all, hence I went about whining. Like, think ankle socks. I made hell of a big issue out of it.

Looking back, I can’t say I was exactly proud of myself back then, but I don’t feel disgusted by my own behaviour either, it’s just that I am different from who I was yet I still feel this sense of connection. Like, ‘I totally understand you, but hey, I’m not you’ kind of thing.

I did have a choice back then, and even till now. I just refused to acknowledge it because with choice comes responsibility. It’s always easier to go along with someone else’s decision than to go against them and answer for yourself. Like, say, if the school made you do something you don’t really want to, people tend to whine and bitch about it but accept it anyway because they think that they have no choice when they do, it’s just that they’re not prepared to be responsible for themselves. Like, I can choose to go to school early or I can choose to go to school late and accept detention as a consequence of my choice. Now, apply that line of thinking to another scenario.

Wonder why I’m not sent for college day. Or rather, why I’m not “made to”, as some would say, and I presume some are already wondering why I’m granted immunity from it. Because my decision is clear. I know what I want and what I don’t want. I don’t waver when I understand the price of doing so.

I guess when people start realizing that they do have a choice, they stop being afraid, because consequences become part of the package and is just a cross they have to carry.

On a lighter note, at least I’ve never went through some silly phases others did, or are still doing.

Everytime

The lack of posts? That’s because I’m holding back. Whenever I have the urge to whine and whine about something, I feel stupid, because those are just small issues annoying me, but I feel like I’m living with one hell of a big problem. Am I so constantly hounded by it that I’ve accepted it as an integral part of my life?

Funny that I should be wondering, especially since it doesn’t make things better. Does it dissolve away the frustrations that tears have failed to do?

I was just thinking while walking on my way home. Nothing like solitude to bring out the cynic, the pessimist, the failure in us. Thinking about? Lots of stuff. Mostly “what if”. I haven’t come to any conclusion, because “if” still remains elusive.

Even in sleep I dream of waking, and when I’m awake I dream of sleep. I can’t please myself. Cling on to your blanket and hope the sun never rises and doesn’t touch you with its burning clarity; hide under the sheets when it gets too dark and the moon paints your pillow in cold light. Don’t try pleasing yourself. Know that even as you feel secure in your haven there’s still tomorrow to face and the past’s a cold dark place to be in.

Tomorrow. When it’s a brand new day and you start off on a tainted slate. When it seems like yesterday’s superimposed on today and today onto tomorrow. And tomorrow’s tomorrow. Where they all roll into one and Monday is the same as Thursday.

And maybe, just maybe, not delete your blogpost.

Everytime I start to type I look at my fingers, crippled with uncertainty. The cursor moves to the “delete” button and I face the blank screen again. I can’t be the same because I’m not the same. If, if, if.

I’m tired of thinking, of weighing, of judging. Who was it who said that we should live everyday as we would our last? It wouldn’t work. Problems don’t solve by themselves.

Though, we should stop thinking. Saves us all the trouble.

Rude People

I cannot stand rude people. I know this is rather ironic given my apparent lack of manners sometimes, but I do it intentionally to show contempt! As for the other times, okay, then I’m just plain rude.

People who are in the service sector shouldn’t be so though! I occasionally drop by Giant supermart at Sunshine place, and I can’t say I’m too impressed with their attitude. If I were anal I would have complained. But because I’m nice I don’t create too much trouble for them and instead fume inside.

I think the staff there are housewives, some of them, who work to pass time because they have nothing better to do. So their jobs aren’t really of much importance to them, they don’t really have to work! They’re just doing so because they have no life, so they don’t try very hard. Some of them are foreigners who give you shitty attitudes (not to mention, they can’t speak and go “dyegdfkvbg”) because they have a shitty day and hence think that giving shitty service is totally justifiable. Well, shit them.

Or people who work in the F&B industry who are so cold, impatient, or they simply ignore you or brush you aside. Tell me, why am I paying service charge when service is nonexistent? It’s like asking people to pay for something they did not buy! Oh, but if I’m not wrong, customers can actually refuse to pay service charge if they feel that it’s not deserving, but I’ve never actually seen anyone do that before. People are either too nice or it’s too troublesome. Why create a fuss when you can just take down the staff’s name and complain?

It’s just annoying. I try to smile at them but they still give me that sort of treatment and it makes me feel like a moron. It’s like you’re rejected repeatedly and yet you continue to try shamelessly. Like asking for a slap in the face. Not nice.

Anyway, thanks to those who celebrated my 18th birthday with me! I liked the chicken fried rice hahahaha.

I Don’t Like Her

Well, Voong messaged me yesterday telling me about this blog she read (Ris Low’s blog, by the way) and it was just coincidental that I heard something about her over the radio, like, she’s going to be on this radio show.

My first reaction when I heard the radio thing was, “Huh?” Then I went on to consider how jerky the show will sound. Or maybe we won’t hear her at all, because the deejays will be yakking on and she can’t speak fluently enough to butt in. Yeah, just imagine.

Voong and I were just dissing her, because the both of us can’t stand her. And we didn’t exactly mince our words.

So afterwards, I was just thinking, why is it that some of us just can’t stand other people? Okay, maybe a good reason will be “I don’t like her because her face looks like shit”, where the person is so physically repulsive that you just go eww and stay far from her, because well, ugliness might be contagious.

Great, now I sound like an airhead.

I guess sometimes it’s because we’re so envious of others. Because we’re not them and we can never be, and when we try to superimpose the image of that person we realize how infinitesimal we are, like we can never measure up. So people with inner insecurities feel that way, allowing it to manifest itself in another way. So you either worship that person, or you wish you could make that person disappear.

Maybe we do dislike people because we want to fill up this void inside us. It’s the hollowness in knowing that hey, that’s not possible for me kind of thing, so you just go, so what if she can, that bitch.

Some people just have all the luck that it doesn’t matter what happens to them because somehow they’ll be bailed out unscathed, while others slog their lives out and well, still nothing.

Which is pretty silly, I’m being silly, because that’s not the kind of lifestyle I want to lead. Like, you wish you could be someone else, but you don’t want to be like that someone else. The reasoning here is that you wish you could be in that position, but you wouldn’t have done what the previous person did. So maybe it boils down to differing values? I mean, I don’t think fraud is on my agenda. Oops.

But why does it matter? Because it’s not something you can mould, like, I wouldn’t change my mind about a particular someone if you told me how ridiculous I am to dislike that person because of my own shortcomings.

Bugger Stole My Table

It’s irritating. I haven’t felt so peeved in awhile, at least, not enough to make me want to blog about it. But this is really over the top!

Well, I wanted to revise on my own (as you can see, not much revision done and it’s all his fault for giving me material to blog about), but the 2 powerpoints near the tables were all taken, so I just sat around and waiting for one of them to go away. Then in came this guy, let’s just call him Bugger for the sake of convenience. He sat between one of the occupied table and me, and when that guy started to pack up, I shifted towards that table. Then Bugger intercepted me!

Bugger: You want this table?
Me: Yeah… (and thinking, duh, why else would I shift my things, you moron?)
Bugger: Oh, I need this table too… (meaning to say, scram and give that table over because it’s mine, because I’m a stupid fucktard and the scorn of all mankind)

And with that he oh-so-chilvarously shoved me aside verbally. Gallant, really. Not. And because I’m nice and sweet and polite I gave way.  Maybe I shouldn’t have, maybe I should have retorted with, “Oh, really? But I need it too, you can wait!”

Like, who is he to decide that his needs are greater than mine? So I’m supposed to give up my table just because he’s a guy and therefore that gives him the right to treat me so dismissively? Okay, maybe I look like a pushover, but still, it’s not very nice.

I swear, if all the guys in the world were like that, I’m so going to turn into a lesbian.

Then again, it doesn’t come as a surprise that an increasing number of Singaporean men are turning to foreign brides, with Singaporean women getting hitched with foreigners too. And we wonder why. Why why why?

And then you notice that hey, those men have to resort to marrying people from DEVELOPING countries while women marry those from DEVELOPED countries, probably some superpowers, and once again, we remark at that disparity.

As you know, people living in third-world countries have very little education, live in slums and generally do as they’re told because they’re just so hardworking, which is uh, very commendable. And you know that those females get kicked around a lot, and probably don’t know what women’s right is all about because they’ve been stuck in that stupid patriarchal system for so long it’s like it’s wired into them. So they marry Singaporean men, so who have superinflated egos bigger than their brains, and they don’t mind being slighted by these men because their standards are low it’s ingrained into them.

Then the men complain about not having enough Singaporean women who would willingly marry them. “Go wash the plates! Switch on the TV because I want to watch! Eek, the food is disgusting, do you even know how to cook? My needs come before yours therefore you shut up and do whatever I tell you to! Or I’ll divorce you and leave you with nothing!”

Can you imagine that kind of life? I absolutely cannot.

Which is why more and more Singaporean women are turning down the advances of Singaporean males! Because they’re rude and insincere and ungentlemanly and a pain in the ass because they’re such megolomaniacs!

Then again, many would cry foul because it hurts their pride they think it’s unfair but we do see a trend! You don’t see that many Singaporean females going for guys living in backward countries do you? Mainly because those guys were born and taught that women exist for males to push around and give way to them.

I am of course not suggesting that Singaporean males have a third-world mindset. Of course not.

Anyway, I’m feeling more or less appeased now after pouring out torrents of abuse onto my blog, and it makes me slightly happier, yay.

Outside

You know you’re regretting it when it suddenly hits you that all you see in front of you is a blank. When all you want to do is to disappear somewhere and never be found, not because you’ve hidden too well, but because no one remembers.

And you ask yourself, “Why did I do it?” You wonder if you would have been better off elsewhere, but there’s no turning back because all other doors are closed and you can only go straight ahead. It doesn’t help that you constantly remind yourself you were the one who locked yourself out.

The problem with “what if” is that you don’t know anything about it. Either way you’ll spend a long long time thinking over it. Pick an option, the others collapse. Sometimes, it takes a while before you realize the extent of your mistake, when you thought that would be the best thing for yourself initially. Is it the irony of things that make us so bitter?

You sit in a corner watching them pretend not to play the popularity game. Contestant One raises his hand and gives a name. You laugh at how absurd this is, aren’t they all just vying for the same thing?

I Hate School

I just saw the timetable for next week. Grr.

Okay, there are a few different subject combinations right now. Which sucks. Meaning to say classes will end late. Next week’s timetable looks short and sweet (not) but it’s only for next week. I wouldn’t be complaining if classes end at 1.30 p.m. Oh well.

But it’s about 200 days left, I think I can survive?

About time I stop wallowing in self-pity, I guess. It’s not helping. So I should do something more productive then. Like smash things around.

Okay, I don’t throw my stuff around, because I’m not violent, not much, and because I have nothing to, and even if I have I’ll be too lazy to clear up the mess.

School eats time. That’s evil. It’s like you’ve made plan, but oh wait, there’s school, so you have to push aside all other obligations. And if I didn’t believe that education is key to a better tomorrow and all that crap I wouldn’t be bothered enough to go to school.

Hate it when people ask me, “Are you sure you can do it?”

Well, I said I can, didn’t I? So I don’t know why they have to doubt me because it annoys me. Or maybe that’s why they do it.

Okay, maybe they didn’t mean to, it’s in their habit to doubt people because they think they’re so good no one else can do it care about the mental health of others. But I think I should know by now where I stand and what I want. So shut up and stop telling me what I can do and what I cannot.

And if I hadn’t known better or if I were more paranoid I would have thought that those people are just trying to pull me down, but no, they’re just plain ignorant and assume too much about me.

Oops My Homework

I don’t think I’ll ever get around to finishing my homework. Wait, what do I mean, I don’t think? Okay, I know I won’t complete them in time, but hey, no one does, so it’s okay!

Just digressing for a bit, I absolutely detest the weather nowadays. It’ll be sunny the whole afternoon, then it’ll pour in the afternoon, and it’s quite dreary because you can’t go anywhere when it’s raining. If there’s even anywhere to go.

Tried doing Maths yesterday, and I’m currently on basic graphing techniques. I hate graphs! I take a long time to do them because I’m a little obsessive, in the sense that my graphs MUST be smooth. So there’s usually a whole pile of eraser dust on the table when I’m through with it. Draw, oh shoot, not smooth enough! Erase, draw, erase. Life would be easier if I don’t focus on the details, but ugly graphs irritate me.

I don’t know why either, but I feel like I’m the smartest person on Earth when I finally rip the solution out from my brain after being stuck at a particular question for the longest time. It’s as if I’m a genius who discovered that at the end of the black hole lies, uh, candyland. That sort of thing. And I’ve been getting a lot of that feeling, which just shows that homework is too hard and just not meant to be completed. You don’t stumble across black holes everyday.

Sad to say, my greatest achievement so far is the 2 Econs essays. Think I wrote them just to amuse myself. It’s surprising what kind of nonsense the brain can come up with under drastic conditions like extreme boredom.

My Holidays

Barely a month ago, my holidays began, and it’s about to end in less than a month, which leaves me feeling crappy.

And as I stare at the stagnant pile of homework my feeling of dread grows. Heck, it’s not like I don’t want to do, it’s just that I don’t seem to get around to doing them. Which means the same thing, come to think about it.

It’s the thought that counts. If only it’s true. Then I’ll be thinking of completing the homework. Heck, “the” homework indeed. As if distancing myself from it would make it go away.

Been attending tennis practices regularly, and getting sunburnt as a result. The sessions are rather slack, in my opinion, it’s just repeat and repeat and repeat. Don’t really get what the coach is trying to make us do, but hey, if I get it right in the end, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Okay, but that was a very lame excuse. I don’t usually listen to the coach. Happens when you have a short attention span.

I’m so envious! BP band left for KL today for some marching band competition thing. I don’t remember ever going overseas on school trips with the band back in BP. But then, they were on tight budget in the past, I guess, so no trips. Or something, anything to console myself.

Okay, I really have to get around to doing my homework. It’s pathetic, the dismal pile of bullshit sitting around, and I can’t find the motivation to do them. One thing that makes me happy is that there’s no Chinese. Or PW.

I don’t know, sometimes things just strike me suddenly. Like how I’ll never have to do Chinese again. Yeah, it’s a little slow but I  feel the impact of it only after a while. Like, “No more Chinese! Wait, no more Chinese?!”

I swear, my command of Chinese is deteriorating by the second, and I was never really good at it to begin with. My standard in Chinese dropped after I went to PJC, as incredulous as it sounds (then again, it’s PJ we’re talking about). It has only been a month since I took the Chinese papers, but Mandarin sounds like gibberish to me now.

Ghosts

It all began with a song you heard. Something you’ve heard many times before, but never registered, and it was then when it suddenly hit you. Not an artist but you could paint the images in your head. White shadowy figures darting at you, swooping in, closing in. How many skeletons have you hidden in your closet? My ghosts are gaining on me, she sang.

Then there were the nightmares. It was a game, but he gambled with your life and his. It was a quest as you raced to save something, someone, the stranger, yourself. You can’t save him if you don’t know how. The next night someone held a knife in front of your throat but you pushed it away. Still you know she’ll come for you, sooner or later. You find your bag ripped to bits. There’s no way to run, it said, not even if you wanted to. There’s no one to hear you, not even if you cry. They’re just nightmares, they’re not real, and neither are you.

In your naivety you held your breath hoping to die, but each time you open your mouth to draw in life. There is no God, they say, or you would have been taken away. Your life doesn’t really belong to you.

When they keep taking away bit by bit, there’s nothing you can do but to concede, what belongs to you belongs to them. That is only right. Still you cannot help but to wish they had taken away everything.

And when you finally lie six feet under beneath the tiny piece of white marble that sums up your whole life, it’ll say, fondly remembered and dearly missed, but no one ever visits except for your own ghosts dancing in the moonlight.

It’s A Love/Hate Thing

Pretty much sums up what I’m feeling now. Except “Oh shit” of course. And maybe “Ugh, this is more trouble than I’ve bargained for”.

Never thought things would turn out this way. I didn’t exactly envision this would happen from the beginning, but damn Murphy and his Law. Okay, it wasn’t exactly poor Murphy’s fault, but the bunch of scientists who quoted him.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. But who says I can’t enjoy myself even if it’s game over?

Especially when I haven’t had my fair share of fun yet.

I’ll dangle a carrot in front of you, oh I will. You know you want it. Come and get it!

But soon enough you’ll realize you’ve fallen too far in to get out. Soon enough you’ll realize how you’ve been led on and on, but wait a minute, isn’t leading others on your forte? Soon enough you’ll realize how you’ve been outdone, outshone, outsmarted. Watch me smirk.

And wouldn’t you just love to slap it off my smiling face? By that time, if you could, you would. But I’ll remain tauntingly within your reach, yet out of reach. Out of sight, yet not out of mind.

Go on, utilize your natural ability of scheming, cook up some elaborate plot to trip me over. But your threats ring as empty as your daft, hollow head. Ooh, I’m scared, you bet I am.

Now, I’m not going to say something as childish as “Two can play the game”. Because I believe in fair play. If it’s not within your mental capacity to play elaborate games, then it’ll be of no kick to me, so why should I bother? I’m out for a challenge, dammit, not a conceded success.

I guess Google can be useful, but there are times when I wish it didn’t exist.

And now things are really confusing. You’re unsure of what I’m referring to. Is it you, or is it not you? Therein lies the beauty of ambiguity.

It’s The Destination That Counts

It seemed to make sense a long time ago, when people told me that it’s the journey that counts, not the destination. Thinking about it now, it’s pretty much crapshit.

Not really referring to anything in particular, I just thought of this suddenly.

I guess this is why I don’t like optimists. They annoy the hell out of me. When they smile and say everything will be fine, it’s like they’re rubbing in and smirking at you. Then they’ll go on and on about how things can only get better if it’s really the pits. Like, THE pits.

Then I’ll be thinking, “Yeah, like you know anything.” Which isn’t really very nice. But it really pisses me off when people tell me things will get better eventually so I don’t have to fret over it because it suggests that I am incompetent enough to will things my way and the only thing I can do is to sit around and wait like an idiot for a change in luck.

Just because the situation will improve eventually does not mean that I’m completely satisfied with the situation now. Which justifies me throwing a tantrum when things don’t go my way. Okay, maybe not really. But if we follow the reasoning that “things will get better eventually”, it’s just really sucky at the moment, then it’s also true that my mood will improve eventually, I’m just being temperamental at the moment!

Sometimes I remind myself of a really petulant kid, and if I were my own parent, I would have smacked myself. Sadly, no one can lecture me on how I should behave, so too bad!

I don’t know, I just get quite irritated when things don’t go my way. It’s like someone has been foiling this grand scheme of mine which I have plotted for a billion years.

And damn the optimists, can they not be so happy all the time?

It’s like, they’re being so perky and cheerful and there you are, all downcast and depressed and they bounce up to you and tell you the world is bright and beautiful even though it seems to rain constantly in your own world. You just want to ask them to shut up because it’s a really sad world we live in. They’re the kind of people who would make really good punching bags.

Imagine this situation: Someone says that it’s tragic that so many people die in the hands of say, a human eating monster, and someone else says it’s okay because someone will destroy the monster eventually, so let’s just be happy and party.

You just want to smack him. Whether or not the problem will be eliminated is not the issue! The issue is that the problem still exists and there seems to be no way to resolve it. Okay, actually the real issue is that I didn’t get what I want.

I believe the only way I’m happy is when my law of want-take-have has been followed. I want candy, I take candy, I have candy! Simple! Happy!

Which brings us to this point: It does not matter how you got your hands on the candy, as long as you’ve got it.

The whole journey-destination thing is at best cold comfort, and at worst, a delusional lie. I guess it makes people feel better that they have gained experience from it, or they think they have. It’s like, at least it’s not a total loss.

But failure is failure. Does it matter if you have, say, learnt how to get onto people’s nerves in the process if you don’t get to your ultimate goal? You have still failed and therefore you are still a noob. Besides, experience doesn’t grant people immunity from further failures. Probably gives them a sense of false security, like, they think that because they’re wiser after screwing up everything, it’s impossible for them to mess up again.

Besides, I don’t think your future boss would be very impressed if you told him you’ve lost many deals in the past because the clients found you too optimistic, and they don’t trust you because your head is constantly stuck in the clouds, but you’ve learnt your lessons and now warn people about doomsday and all the unfortunate events that can befall on them (like, you slip and fall and get a concussion, or getting your head stuck between iron grills) so that they’ll be convinced to buy insurance from you. But you probably won’t get the job anyway.

No point making the journey if you don’t get to your destination. That’s what I call a waste of time.

I Hate Being Treated Like A Retard

Eek, landed myself in yet another tutoring job recently, and it annoys me. Okay, I get annoyed really easily, but that’s because I find it hard to accept things if they’re not done MY WAY (reminds me of the comic strip published in the papers some time ago). Thing is, if I am as effective (or even more effective), then I don’t see why not.

It wasn’t what I had expected (note: surprises are stupid, unless they’re good ones, but it takes away the surprise element if you know it’s good). It’s in a freaking tuition center. I had expected home-based.

When I first got there, I was a little hesitant, so the woman tried to reassure me that it’s no different from home-based tuition except for the location. Oh, and someone staring down my neck constantly. It’s rather uncomfortable. Not that kind of oh-is-my-hair-messy kind of uncomfortable, but the why-are-you-spying-on-me kind.

The agent referred me to her, and he thought she’s the parent of the kid I’m tutoring. Hmm. He probably told her my grades, and she confirmed it with me again, so when I got there, she asked if I brought along my certificates, and I was like, what? Why should I lie about my grades? I guess she has to explain things clearly to the real parents of the kid.

The kid herself isn’t too bad, but that woman!

Oh, and since I’m only trying out, she said that if I wanted to quit, I’ll have to tell her directly and not the student. She claims that she’d deal with it in a “tactful manner” (meaning to say, I’m incapable of doing so myself). And I can’t even liaise with the student directly, which is ugh! So if I want to change the time slot, I’ll have to message that woman, who would then message the student, and then message me back. It’s redundant.

And the thing I can’t stand the most is that she tells me how to teach. No one orders me around! And it’s not as if I don’t know how to! Not that her teaching methods are that great anyway. I overheard her teaching some primary school kids on antonyms. “You are tall but you are short.” Then I was like, what the fuck, no wonder the kids couldn’t answer her properly. Even I could have taught them better.

She was like, you do this this this, draw diagrams so that she’ll understand better blahblahblah. This is of course, assuming that the student learns visually, and what if that’s not the case? I mean, I’m not too visual a person myself. And if she hasn’t taught the student before, who is she to decide the way in which I’m supposed teach? Sure, visual aids are helpful in teaching primary school kids, but we ain’t talking about kids here. You don’t feed baby food to a teenager (unless he or she has a fetish for it).

I’m probably going to quit. I can’t stand her. And she’s freaking short, so I have to look down on her when I try to talk to her. Well, if you’re short, you’re not tall!

I’m Disgusted

Some people just disgust me. The way they pretend and wheedle their way through things just makes them all the more repulsive.

No names will be mentioned here, if you know who she is, good for you, I guess. Damn, I’ll have people wondering if I’m referring to them, hmm.

It seriously puts me off when she pretends to be my best friend when it’s a not-so-known secret that I hate her guts. And vice-versa, of course.

But when you need my help, you turn saccharin sweet, naturally. Meaning to say, it’s in your nature. It just runs in you, doesn’t it? You’ve always knew how to play your cards, but it’s a great pity that I hold the trump card. For, unlike you, I am able to break away from all that hold me down. It’s quite sad if your whole existence depended on the hand that feeds you.

To act like you’re my best friend? To pretend to be oh-so-chummy with me? Believe me, I’m insulted. I have standards, and I have to say, you’ve fallen short of it. By a wide margin, I might as well add. I do not wish to associate myself with you.

You are in no position to communicate with me in that degree of familiarity, I want nothing to do with you. You have no pride, no shame, and yes, go on, live in your little bubble and hope no one pops it.

Oh, I know you more than you think I do. How many nights have I laid awake in bed wondering what you’ll do next? Put on your cutesey facade, but I’ve seen your malicious side when you think no one’s looking. I don’t trust you. You’ll sooner stab me in the back than kiss me.

That’s right, I don’t respect you in the least.

I think that’s one of my biggest flaw. I cannot, and will not, accept people whom I have no ounce of respect for. And given how I judge people, it’s no big surprise that most people don’t make the cut. I cannot receive someone whom I deem to be lower than me without being condescending. Yes, call me arrogant, stuck up, whatever, I don’t give two fucking hoots. If you do not meet the standards I’ve set, it can only mean you’re not good enough, and that’s your problem, not mine, isn’t it?

Holiday Holiday Oh!

Been in that silly holiday mood ever since promos ended. I wake up, wonder why I have to go to school, and tell myself it’s all over and oh, fuck school, so I don’t go.

Okay, not that I’ve skipped too often, still have that annoying PW to settle. One more week more till the whole damn thing is over.

Oh, and it’s Chinese on Monday, and I haven’t touched my Chinese textbook since the last Chinese lesson where we still used the textbook, oh shit. But it’s okay, I figured since I didn’t touch Chinese for promos and still did decently, it should be okay!

I think it’s an inverse relationship. The more effort I put in, the worse the result.

Received the timetable for the next three weeks or so till school ends. When I first got my timetable, my first thought was, “UGH!”. Some days are freaking long, some of them freaking annoying. It’s like, they’ll schedule some programme at 8 a.m., then the next programme would about two hours later that kind of thing, which is effing irritating because you’ll just waste that two hours. Hell, school officially ends on the 20th November, how annoying. Seriously, 20th November?!

That’s hardly much of a holiday, is it? Can’t skip school too much either, which irks me no end. What was it they said? If you’re absent from school for three days without valid reason, they’ll assume you’re leaving school and kick you out or something, I don’t know.

And some schools will start their holidays on the 12th! Okay, maybe eight days ain’t such a big deal, but I don’t want to wake so early!

Even my brother will end his O Levels earlier than me, I feel so miserable. So when everyone relaxes and goes out to play I get to wake early and drag my sad sad self to school.

I don’t like sleeping in school. I don’t get to lie down and

With WR over and done with (finally!), there’s only OP left, and I’m sick of PW. It’s just that kind of feeling, like, oh, screw it, I don’t care anymore. I don’t even want to continue studying anymore, but there’s the pressure to because I’ll go nowhere if I don’t, but then again, it’s not as if I have anywhere to go.

I love the Christmas season! I don’t care about it being the season of giving and what not, but the Christmas shopping for food makes me really happy! I like the supermarket more than ever during the Christmas season! It’s usually the time when they stock up lots of stuff they don’t normally sell during normal boring days! Like candy and chocolate! Makes me dizzily happy. Maybe I’ll buy a box of those cherry flavoured candy canes and eat them in June next year?

My Exciting Life

Promos are over and guess what I’m doing!

Nope, not shopping or the likes. Or just going out and loitering around.

I’m trying to send the damn images of the Written Report and it’s idiotic because there are about 16 scanned images and I have to attach the images one by one because I don’t know how to combine them into a folder and send them once and for all. Sheesh, and I have to send a few emails because the file sizes are too big.

It’s stupid to send 16 attachments because people will just look at the number and say, “That’s too many files to download! Oh, forget it!” And then it’ll be treated as spam mail, at least, that’s what I do when people send me chain mails, especially those with pictures in it.

Apart from trying to send the effing attachments over, I’m feeling hungry.

I Just Remembered

Checking of scripts tomorrow. Was wondering if I should skip school. I don’t know, I just don’t feel interested in anything anymore. I could lie in bed all day.

Had a hard time dragging myself out of bed this morning. Was supposed to have breakfast with a group of friends, but I woke an hour late and didn’t go. So I woke up and was like, oh shit! Okay, am feeling a little guilty over that, I didn’t mean to oversleep, I even set my alarm so that I would be on time. Guess not.

I like snoozing. I like lying in bed. I like pretending this isn’t real, nothing is. It’s a luxury I can’t afford, sometimes.

It’s hoping that time will melt away quickly like snow in the sun, till everything is clear, bright, untainted. It’s hoping that maybe one day I’ll make it through okay, and that’s what keeps me going.

It’s the quiet acceptance that even if you can’t change anything now, it won’t be long before you can get away from all that’s been said and done. It’s wondering if what you have done today would be your last in a long long time to come.

It’s the self-doubt, the pondering, the can-I-do-it. It’s the stupid pride that refuses to give in, that insists on make or break, that stubbornly decides on the rougher path to take.

It’s the tears and anger, wondering if you could see me, if I’m a burden you have been made to carry. It’s the realization that things would be better, at least, I would be happier, if I could just disappear.

Soon, soon.

Grr I Hate School!

Been sitting in front of the computer for half an hour already. Was planning to do the second draft of my I&R, but nope, nothing’s actually done. I’ve opened the file, but I’m not even staring at it.

It’s horrible. The school just issued the new timetable, and it makes me wish I had taken higher Chinese back in secondary school. Two and a half hours three days in a week and a mock exam each Friday? Irritating!

Apart from Chinese, there’s PW, and this is pretty much what I’ll be doing for the rest of this month. Thank goodness the holidays are only a month away! Yeah, a month. Holidays only start on the 20th of November, which is really sad.

But it’s okay, I’ll probably be skipping some days here and there.

Oh well, until then, everyday will just be another repeat of the previous day. Sort of like a recurring nightmare. Except worse, maybe. At least you’ll wake from the nightmare, and laugh about it later on because it’s so ridiculous. But the only way to get away from this horror is to knock yourself out.

Hmm, will be celebrating JianQin’s birthday this Friday at this place called Party World? Wherever that is, I don’t know. It’s some KTV place, and I don’t sing. Okay, am going to force myself to get a sore throat so I can have an excuse not to sing!

Okay, believe it or not, I’ve never been to any karaokes. I don’t know, back in secondary school, some of my friends used to go there weekly, but I’ve never really felt interested, not even curious. It’s like, you’re going KBox? Oh, okay, have fun. That kind of thing. Yeah, sure, I was invited, but I turned it down anyway. So I sort of alienated myself, but I’m actually happier this way. Like, I don’t feel like I badly need someone to hang out with because I’m so used to it that it’s normal.

Okay, I should do my I&R now, it’s been an hour and I have yet to do something.