Omega, and Alpha

There's nothing like a walk down Orchard late in the year to stir up my Christmas spirit. But before I go any further, allow me to make the mandatory announcement everyone's been making on their blogs, and one which I now declare with unabashed delight:

IT IS OVER. IT IS ACCOMPLISHED. IT IS FINISHED.

Apart from the unexpected easiness of the paper (it was remarkably straightforward, compared to what the other papers have been. One of the comparative poems for the PC section was even one of the comparative poems that came out for our prelims!), the sheer joy of having the weight of the A Levels being lifted off my shoulders is cause enough to make me smile all day. And indeed I have been doing that mostly today. First there were charming Brazillian chefs fawning over us with assorted skewers of meat (I personally loved the lamb. It wasn't that smelly. Too bad I discovered it late into the meal), then a cruise around Vivocity, then mindless entertainment by none other than Jack Black himself (I loved Ben Stiller's cameo), topped off with another meal. By the end of the day I was so bloated I felt positively nauseous at the sight of food. All that meat at lunch went a long way towards keeping me fairly fed for the rest of the day. Oh! and I even discovered my favourite type of coffee! The Columbian Supremo, from TCC. It is, as the menu eloquently puts it, the strongest of the mild coffees.

Yes, yes, yes, so Joel was a busy boy today, indulging in a whirlwind tour of entertainment not seen since, the end of the prelims? I doubt if I even came close then. And tomorrow, we shop!

I actually had a forecast of what prom would look like this evening. I was walking down Orchard past the Meritus Mandarin around 7, and as we looked in we realised another school's prom was about to begin. Lots of teenagers milling about fashionably dressed. I liked the look of it. I think this year's setting is much better than what it could have been, the Grand Copthorne. The Christmas decorations of Orchard certainly up the glitz factor, as well as making me feel all Christmassy and nostalgic. I always feel nostalgic when I look at Christmas decor. There's this sense of warmth, and longing within me for the past, and the nagging sadness that what was can never be again, at least, not for this year. Ha, well do I remember my incessant search for a Braun Buffel wallet last year. This year, such things matter so much less. Indeed, I don't even have a gift list for Christmas. My greatest wish is to snuggle up at home, next to the tree, eating roast beef and turkey and admiring the beauty of my boned in ham all sliced up on the table (it really looked like it was straight out of a catalogue when we set it up last year. Should have taken a picture). Oh well, one cannot always get what one desires.

To tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow! May all our days be as carefree as this season!

Hatred

Words cannot fully express how much I hate the army right now. I cannot even bring myself to write down here all that is running through my mind because I can only do so with such bitterness, such anger, that it can only come out with the foulest vulgarities.

My friends, I beg of you, from now till the 15th of December, please, say absolutely NOTHING at all about the army in my presence. Not a word about the SAF, not a word about NS, not a word about enlistment dates. Nothing. No institution in the world right now can foul my mood faster than it can. Please, as a friend, I am asking all of you now to never ever mention anything about it again. We can talk about absolutely any other thing under the sun, but not this, not this, please. Don't even try to console me, or I shall suspect that you do not understand. Indeed I suspect only very few people have any authority at all right now to speak to me on this matter, and the only one I know is leaving very soon, and I shall miss you dearly, old friend, when you are gone. I hope with all my heart you enjoy your stay on Langkawi.

Sometimes it is better to remain silent on a topic you don't understand than to offer words of pity that can only engender more hatred.

Well! I have a new template. It's um, very boring, yes, but I can't be bothered to find anything else. I'll just stick to what Blogger has. I changed because I;ve just switched to this new Beta Blogger thingy. Now it has improved layouts and management desktops, yada yada. I've been meaning to do it for a while now, never had the time. Well, this weekend just presented an opportunity, so here it is!

The End (almost)

I must say that I didn't feel particularly exhilarated after today's paper, partly because there were so many things to do immediately after it, like sign Mr Smith's card and rush off for lunch, and partly because, as always, the thought of the S Paper still to come was foremost in my mind. You'd expect that with every passing hour as the end draws nearer I'd get more excited, but the truth is actually counter-intuitive. I find that when the A Levels started, last Monday for instance, I was more hyped up as each paper passed, because I had the feeling that the end was drawing closer, that I was completing more papers each day, that I was actually doing productive work. Then, this week, today especially for instance, just when the A's are ending, I feel more and more impatient and lethargic actually, instead of happy, because to me it seems that despite all that's been done the end is still not here. This feeling happens all the time to me actually, on journeys especially. Like when I'm coming home from school sometimes, I feel ok at the start of the journey, but as I draw closer to home I get impatient cos each step is taking so long to bring me home. Actually come to think of it, I think it's a normal feeling. Beginnings are always fresh, but ends are often stale.

Anyway, I had lunch with Mr Smith today! He kept up a running commentary during lunch as you may imagine. Most of it was about dogs. He keeps a dog, a large crossbreed between Alsatian and something else which he's not sure of. He got it from the SPCA in 2000 anyway. Oh yeah, he's going to Cairns, and his dog has to leave one month in advance cos Australia has a one month quarantine rule for all animals entering the country. To prevent rabies epidemics and all...

But the most interesting thing was this. Owen asked him what Irish sounds like. Now a lot of us think the Irish speak English, or at least a variant of it, but in reality Irish is not English at all. It's Gaellic, with it's own alphabet and writing style. In pronunciation I suppose it sounds close to Tolkien's Elvish. Anyway, his name in Irish is actually Shawn MacGowan! That's not the proper spelling, I can't remember how he spelt it. I'm just typing it out the way it sounds. The "Mac" is pronounced as "muck", not "mack" like Macdonalds. "Mack" is the English pronunciation of it. In Irish it's "muck". And, "Mac" means "son of", like "Bin" in Malay. So he's basically Shawn son of Gowan. Ah, so now we know that Ewan MacGregor is the son of Gregor. (Ok, irrelevant digression)

Ah, dear old Mr Smith. I shall miss him when he leaves.

It started last Friday. First my grandmother came down with stomach flu, vomitting and all. Then late Saturday my maid had stomachaches till Sunday morning. During that night my mother got stomach flu too. And on Sunday morning my brother woke up not feeling well. It later developed into diarrhoea and vomitting.

Just as it seemed to subside (my brother's problem cleared up quickly on Monday and my maid was fine by Monday too. My mom was feeling better by yesterday night), my father caught it. He blames it on the char kway teow he ate yesterday for lunch. So now he's stuck at home with stomach flu too.

I have no idea why, but one by one all the members of my family are coming down with stomach flu-related problems. The symptoms seem to be primarily occupied with what comes out of either end of the body. Now, I am the last man standing, ha!

Turning Point

On this most auspicious of occasions (it is the weekend), I would like to take the opportunity to congratulate all of us taking this combi for making it thus far. I believe congrats are in order, not because the A's are over already, but for the sheer fact that we've made it through the most stressful week of our lives thus far, intact. Take time to consider this most wondrous fact, that as of today, each of you has completed 14 hours of A Level papers, 11 of which were done consecutively in one week, and all of which you never have to do again. Whether we have done well for each of those papers is another matter, and frankly, it is one that we cannot do anything about now and thus should not trouble our already troubled minds too much about. Rather, let us rejoice in the meer fact that we've actually sat for the papers, and completed them.

As for the rest, they should be relatively ok, even though I know I'm making an outrageous prediction here because after this week I think everyone knows the guys in Cambridge must have gone slightly off their rockers when setting our papers, but hey, I choose to be optimistic. Time will prove me wrong. Nevertheless, I marvel at the fact that it is actually Saturday, because I vividly remember last Saturday, when I was going around with thoughts of Monday plaguing me, thinking about how miserable the week was going to be. But tada! the week is over! We have only 2 more papers, 6 hours more. For us poor Lit S paper people we have 9 hours more, yes, and we have the unfortunate honour of being the last in Singapore to finish the A Levels, but still, The End is near!!! The bloody end is near!!! It's just nine freaking hours away!!!! Nine rather drawn out hours yes, but the end is still near!!! Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!!!

That brings me to my next point, which is yesterday's PC paper. I tell you, ever since Mrs Tan messaged me to ask what questions I did I've being going around muttering "sonnets" under my breath. The two bloody comparative poems were sonnets. Of course, it's not absolutely crucial to note that, but it would have been a bonus. I smack my head for not noticing that fact, because now the irony of the poems is further reinforced in hindsight by the usage of the sonnet form. Bloody sonnets. I can't seem to get that word out of my head. Sonnets. Of all the silly poems in the world, sonnets.

Ok ok, I'm going to stop thinking about it. I shall take my own advice and wash my hands clean of them. But I did truly like those poems. I love the word Ozymandias. So rich, so ancient, so exotic. "Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" It echoes perfectly all those magnificent, dramatic and ancient statements that I'm so fond of. Hmm, I suppose that reveals something of my character haha. Power complex maybe.

On a sidenote, thank you to everyone who's commented positively on my last post, although I'm not quite sure why it's so critically acclaimed. I mean, I guess it's funny yes, but they're my genuine feelings. Ok, I'll concede that the crumbling walls thing was deliberately enhanced. I had merely a vague sense of bathos in the hall that day haha.

An update.

Fear of something makes it larger than it really is. A simple, common truth that I forget again and again. It's actually mildly amusing when it happens. For example, last Thursday when we sat for GP, I went in and sat there thinking like, oh gosh, ok this is it, it's the A Levels!!! Every word I write is going to determine my future!! I must be extra careful!!!

And for around 5 minutes I could not actually calmly go through the list of questions, what with all that agitation inside me. And yet, after the paper, I realised that, hey, it was just another paper. It felt, afterwards, just like any other paper I've ever sat for in JC. Perhaps, one could almost call it anticlimatic. The atmosphere was just like after the prelims, or after BT2, or after BT1. It was like, oh well, here we are again in the hall, same old, same old, ladeedah, write the essay, pass it up, feels like any other class essay. You walk out of the hall and realise yes, it's still the same campus, stairs on your left, benches to your right, toilets ahead.

Somehow, I was subconsciously expecting more, like I thought the atmosphere would be more rarified, somehow exalted, the very air you breathe smelling more academic than usual. The Chief Presiding Examiner (for such a grand title I wished he looked more presidential) would announce dramatically, "Lo! It is the A Levels! At the opportune moment when the clock striketh Twelve, thou mayst begin thy furious writing! Godspeed and avaunt!" And then suddenly a clock will chime solemnly and the whole hall will look like some magnificent ancient Hall in Oxford or Cambridge with crumbling stone and ivy growing round the pillars, while beneath the vaulted roof march row upon row of wooden desks and seats, as far as the eye can see. And then one and a half hours later the clock will chime solemnly and the CPE will once again proclaim, "Behold! The hour is past and thy doom draweth nigh! Hold up thy pens and cease thy writing. Invigilators! (and here there would be a dreadful pause... before a sinister whisper) Collect their scripts..."

Oh well, compared to all that, I guess Potong Pasir just doesn't cut a very dashing figure. And it is for the best that the real thing isn't half as dramatic as my imagination. Familiarity still allows for the most ease in writing haha.

Travel far

I was just reading Neil Humphrey's book on Singapore, and it made me feel incredibly sad. I was reading a chapter where he talks about his experience of going on a trip to America with a Singaporean tour group. The chapter was mainly about him griping about the usual ugly displays of kiasuism, but what struck me more was the fact that the itinerary he described seemed quite similar to the one I had when I visited the Land of the Free four years ago. And for that reason, it made me incredibly sad.

Call it nostalgia, but for me it was also a realization of the future. I suddenly remembered what it was like to stand on the hillside overlooking Toledo, Spain, a lovely medieval town. I suddenly remembered watching the waves of the Pacific crash onto the American coast. I suddenly remembered my family together on tour. And I also suddenly realised that such an experience might quite possibly never happen again.

You see, the last time I went on tour with my family was two years ago, after the O Levels. It was always my dream to go flying again after the A's, before I entered the army. That dream is now gone. And by the time I leave the army, I don't know if the circumstances will allow another trip. It is quite possible that my tour to Spain was my last family tour. And that struck me to the heart.

I walked out of my bedroom and I was suddenly struck by the sight of all those photos. My family displays photoframes of the places we've been in the living room. So everywhere I turned I saw pictures of us smiling, in San Francisco, Paris, Korea, Lisbon, Australia and so on. It sounds melodramatic but I really felt sad at that point. The only possible planes I'll be on in the next two years will be ugly green transports ferrying me to my next destination where I shall further my training in shooting, trekking in jungles, and generally trying to defend this island. Even when I do tour again it probably won't be the same again without my family. God, I hate the army for what they've done.

To the guys who only enlist in January or April, to the girls who don't have to enlist at all, please, buy a plane ticket, and go somewhere with your loved ones before it's too late. If all travel does is to broaden our horizons, it will have been enough. There is more to this world than this concrete jungle ensconced by water.

As for me, there remains a box of chocolates.

Yesterday part of the cell went to Woodlands to celebrate Tedric's birthday. Yes, Woodlands, of all places. At first I was shocked, cos the message read that he had a night out so I assumed that he had the whole night out in which case why go to Woodlands if his camp is nearby? It turned out that army guys get Wednesday night off each week, but they have to return to camp by the end of the night.

However instead of the birthday boy being the center of attention, it was Shannon. Shannon is this most adorable four month old baby with absolutely marvellous large round eyes. I'm a sucker for large round eyes in babies. She has cute little bulldog cheeks (it doesn't sound nice here, but you have to imagine her cheeks bulging out, a bit like a bulldog's), and she hardly ever cries. It is technically possible to just sit and watch her for hours without growing bored. She has the entire cell enraptured everywhere she goes, and it's impossible to describe her cuteness wihout using superlatives all day long. She's just soooo cuuuttteee!!

However, Shannon is also a sign of our age. By the time she's 18, I'll be 36. When she's 21, I'll be 39. When your cell leader becomes a father, you know you're growing old. I really can't imagine the cell walking around, middle aged, while Shannon and co. run past, echoes of our long lost youth. It will be, "Hi, Uncle Joel! Hi, Uncle Landy! Hi Aunty Anna, etc..", while I, in polo tee and shorts (the classic uncle look as Quek calls it) watch on benevolently. Benevolence. The very word implies age.

Ah well, there is a certain dignity in a paunch and shiny top. I can very well imagine myself sipping kopi in the verandah of the club house after a game of golf somewhere in Malaysia.

In other news, I have somewhat to say about the haze. I can't stand this irritating white smog everywhere I go. Even now as I write I'm breathing in ash. Every morning upon awakening I see my surrounding neighbourhood blanketed in white clouds. As you may know, I live on the 19th floor, so I command a view of the entire south of the island. On a normal day I can see the whole city, plus Orchard Road (I can even see Tangs and Ngee Ann City). Now, all I see day after day is a blank wall in every direction. It wouldn't even be so bad if it didn't smell so much like smoke. The only redeeming quality about the haze I can think of is the European fog-like ambience it gives Singapore, albeit a choking, smelly fog-like quality...

In the light of the North Korean nuclear crisis and the worsening international relations with the Dear Leader, I have seen fit to create a new email account for business only. If you look at my current email address you will understand why I have undertaken this move. I don't think universities or scholarship committees would be very impressed with the sentiments my address seems to imply I have. I will still be using the current account though, since all my messanger contacts are there. If anyone wants my new account just msg me and I'll send it over. But no spamming please...

These are the last days

These are the last days of the sun at dawn,
The morning draws to a close.
Weep farewell to the mists of youth
That softened the glare of life.
What though the mid-day be glorious
And the sun's light strongest?
Strong light burns harshest.
And have not men turned fey
In a quest for second birth?
Yet, to Cuivienen there is no returning,
And the sun, being risen, must fade into evening.
Let us therefore make our farewells sweet,
And gird up our loins as we speak,
For these are indeed the last days of the sun at dawn.


When I got home today I was seized by a strong realization that tomorrow, my twelve years of education in St. Andrew's formally draws to a close. Of course, I've known this fact all along. But knowing something and knowing it are two different things. That realization brought a tinge of sadness along with it. It's like an entire chapter of my life is now closing. No more classes, no more morning assemblies, no more morning devotions, no school song, no national anthem, none of the regularity of the school year, no more teachers. My childhood ends tomorrow. From then on we are on our own, borne along only by the support of friends and family. But in the rest of our lives, especially the educational sphere, we will be for the first time truly on our own. There will be no teachers in the conventional sense to guide, just distant professors. The spoon feeding comes to an end. And in the looming background, now drawing all too close with every passing day, is that terrible debt of service to the nation, my pound of flesh.

I think a lot of people feel it differently from me. In class I think only Hanis would understand what I mean when I say a chapter in my life is closing. For others I think it is also the end of a part of their lives, but they might have already gone through institutional changes in the past, so tomorrow, the end for them means the end of formal pre-university education. For me it's that plus more, the end of the St. Andrew's era in my life. The end of that unique brand of education through all my formative years, warts and all. It will not be long before I stop wearing the blue and the white forever. I think I'll go and preserve my uniforms.

Yesterday in school while I was buying food Mr Lian walked up to me and patted me on the baxk, asking how I was, how I did for the prelims. I was quite surprised actually, since I only know him because of College Day. It's nice having a fellow kinsman in school, hahaha.

Later that day I went out for dinner with John, Kevin and Vincent, the Presidents' Association of Elohim (PAE), hahah. I love seeing these guys around in school. They never fail to brighten my day. I think I'm very blessed in a way to have my cell members in school. It's a pity I'm only fully appreciating this fact at the end of my tenure in JC. People like them really remind me of God's love; that warm, understanding environment where Christ is the head of the family. I wish at times I could just spend the rest of my days in church, but then again church is where we are empowered to go out into the world, and we can't all be hermits.

Introspection and humility

Introspection is a thing sorely lacking in our world. There are too many people busy peering into other people's lives, giving their own opinions and comments about them, without once considering their own lives. I have no doubt that this world would be a better place if everyone thought before they spoke, and by think here I mean not merely to check if what you want to say is sensible, but also if it is necessary, and helpful to the situation. The greatest problem with advancing such a stance, however, is that in order to promote introspection, a judgement first has to be made on the current practices of others, which is in itself a contradiction of the principle of introspection,that is, to judge not. You see, one can never tell people, "do not judge", or "think before you speak", or "consider the feelings of others if you were in their shoes", without arousing the self-defensive instincts of others. The reaction is almost invariably to hit back. "How dare you judge me yourself! Practice what you preach," or "It's very well for you to say so, but I don't see you doing what you just said". These are possible responses. And since the person who raises the objection to judging in the first place usually cannot respond credibly to such accusations, the cycle of accusation and recrimination goes on (sounds like Long Day's, I know, but it's the only way I could think of to express my point haha). Introspection can never be effectively preached; it must first be practiced.

It is a sad state of affairs, because it is a point desperately in need of acceptance, and yet one that few can propagate effectively. To be introspective, or to be circumspect, is a message superficially well-received from pulpits. I say superficially, because when preached from pulpits everyone of course agrees with it. After all, they think, X really ought to mind his business, or, how I wish Y could hear this message, what a slap to the face that would be. And therein lies the irony. That while listening to a message of introspection people would be busily thinking about all the people who should practice more introspection, without considering how the message applies to themselves. What is even more distressing is that apart from the pulpit the only really effective way to bring home such a point would be to raise it in those particular situations where introspection and consideration of others' feelings most need to be practiced, since those moments are the ones where people can really be made to see how introspection actually applies to their own, internal lives. And yet, those moments are also the ones where people get most defensive, since the credibility of whoever is raising the point can never be entirely secure, unless of course it was a pastor, in which case the defensiveness might be transformed into private mutterings of "It's easy for him to say..."

And so the problem perpetuates itself. If anything I think this is something that's been brought to my mind repeatedly recently, so maybe God's trying to tell me something. You know what's the biggest obstacle to introspection? Pride. Admitting that you have a plank in your own eye. The fear of others saying, Ha, he's finally learnt his lesson. Sometimes, isn't it easier to continue in a sin simply to avoid the admittance of guilt? Because to change one's ways would be to admit one was wrong in the first place.

Introspection must go hand in hand with humility.

I came home, and felt completely exhausted after a bath. It's been happening more often these days. It's as if the experience of going through a school day is just so physically draining now. Maybe it's just the tension of waiting to get back all the results. Do you realise today is only Thursday? One week ago we were still revelling in our post prelim freedom. In fact, it's only been less than two weeks since the end of the prelims. And yet, it seems so long ago when I wrote the last sentence of the last essay of the last paper. Paradoxically, the five weeks left before the first A Level paper seem too short for me. Hai, I just want to get back all my results quickly so I can stop mental marking and anticipating and actually focus on pure mugging.

Today we got back our Lit pc paper. I shall not talk much about that here. What's done is done, really, and I shall just pray that in the A's I'll interpret the passages correctly.

What was more interesting was our GP lesson. An essay question on God and Science turned into a really philosophical discussion, the kind I like. Morality is such a fascinating field of study. Someone once said that it takes more faith to be an atheist than to believe in God. I really think that's true. Science is actually a poor place to begin if you want to disprove the existence of God. So many physicists have turned believers in recent years because their study of the universe throws up more and more evidence of the unmistakable print of Intelligent Design. The chances of life randomly forming out of inanimate matter, back at the beginning of the universe, were as low as if a tornado were to blow into a warehouse and accidentally form a working Boeing 747 plane, as a researcher once put it. Ignoring all other evidence, I think even this point alone must give atheists pause. They say we believe blindly, ignoring all the evidence against God. On the contrary, I say we have made a thorough study of the universe, and having found it incredible that such a world as this could exist by chance, have reached the logical conclusion that at least a creative higher power exists. Which is more unbelievable? That the Red Sea could part due to divinely directed wind, or that by random chance the human brain, in all its marvellous complexity so much so that if even one small part were out of place it would cease to function, could evolve from inanimate matter? It's like believing the pieces of a watch could assemble themselves to form a fully working device by the chance of a hundred million years. Nay, for all of creation redounds to the glory of God, so that men are left without excuse.

Deep thinking on a Thursday afternoon, and we're only scratching the surface. I'm going to bed...

Reading through various blogs I began to hope that as we age, or should I say mature, our angst will decrease. I won't say a majority, but a great many of the blogs I've seen are filled with posts that reek of teenage angst. I sometimes wonder why so many people around this age seem to go through such miserable, dysfunctional private lives. Perhaps that's over-stating the problem a bit. Everyone has their own internal problems after all, and God knows I flare up in angst from time to time. And angst itself (such a..."teenage" word), is not strictly confined to adolescence. It is used to describe a strong feelings of unhappiness and anxiety about a situation in life. I think the reason why it's been applied to teenagers so often is because this is the age group that handles problems worst. We are not more prone to troubles than others. We just handle them badly, and out of the mire of our messes there arises a need for catharsis or expression, amply found in blogging. And because if this, we see plenty of blog posts filled with rants and angst, spewing forth frustration at the world/school/whatever's-bothering-you-now. This therefore exaggerates the actual amount of angst in the lives of teenagers, making them all easily stereotyped as emo/angsty/conflicted types.

Then there's another, simpler explanation of course, that we all really lead such miserable lives, and that the angst in blogs is not exaggerated at all, but rather an honest expression of misery and frustration. Indeed, who can say how miserable one should feel before becoming angsty? One person's molehill is another's mountain.

If you ask me though, I subscribe more to the first explanation, but like every good arts student I realise there are many factors in this issue, therefore no one explanation is sufficient haha. And I would add that teenage angst is often exaggerated because of language. I am quite sure that people of all ages and of all time periods in history suffer from angst, but one reason why this particular generation seems so angsty is because of its language. Vulgarities and curses adorn the pages of many a blog, because in this day and age, the f-word is apparently the best way of expressing one's frustration. And since the f-word was orginally created as an extremely vulgar word, its assimilation into the everyday language of youths, indeed of society in general, must appear as a reflection of the moral degradation of our time, that we have allowed our standards to slip. And what is more, the development of blogging has allowed people to post such language online for the world to see, where once it was confined only to conversations. This therefore amplifies the sense of angst among the youth of today. No doubt the people of the past had their own unique curses, but I do believe rectititude, self-control, and social grace was higher then, thereby limiting the coarseness of everyday language.

In conclusion therefore, I have no idea why I posted that whole load of pseudo-pyschoanalysis and why the whole thing began to sound like a gp essay. It's the first time in a long time I've posted on a random issue out of the blue, I think. Haha, ah well, I think I'm too bored...

After such a long and tiring day in school yesterday, I went to Glutton's Bay with the cell for dinner. Had a really fun time with them, taking all sorts of ridiculous pictures and such. Photo whoring has never been my thing. I really can't stand taking picture after picture. I don't know why some people like doing so. I mean, yeah, a picture or two is nice, for posterity's sake and remembrance. But really, sometimes people just take pic after pic like they're never going to see each other again, and for goodness' sake, we're in Singapore lah. Pictures by the merlion, gosh... But I'll have to concede that it was all in good fun haha, and I was in high spirits anyway.

Which, I might add, I was not in for a considerable portion of the day. I'm rather upset over my econs essay grades, because they're all so mediocre when I could really have scored at them. But my mcq marks made up for them, and if all goes well with case study and drq I should be able to secure a B, which I'll be happy with. In the meantime, the overall effect of the results has been to motivate me once more to start revising again. I shall start planning my study timetable, although I should probably add here that I've never been good at setting, much less following study timetables. Still, they provide a certain amount of inspiration, like setting goals.

Sushi. I had sushi with Quek yesterday at a restaurant that shall not be named for diplomatic purposes. Anyway we got ourselves all bloated up, and also received a lasting stench of fish for the rest of the day. I tell you, that place absolutely reeks of fish. If not for the fact that you can eat as much as you want I think I would seriously consider not patronising it for both lack of comfort (the smell) and questionable freshness of food (the smell again).

After that we watched The Banquet. Now, it is supposed to be a Chinese adaptation of Hamlet, and while the plot is roughly the same (I say roughly), it simply lacks the flow, or same emotional power as the original. After so many martial arts films coming out of China I think everyone in the West thinks Chinese people must have been brilliant in ancient times at sword fighting and such, and that we all fly here and there when we fight. Transposing that style of martial arts onto Hamlet produces rather ridiculous results. For example, the "Laertes" figure rescues the "Hamlet" figure from assassination by popping out of the ground with his men, and simultaneously killing all the would-be assassins via cross-bows fired in mid air. In another scene, two soldiers fly out of water onto a bridge to halt an oncoming charge of the enemy. Those moments produced more laughs than melodrama.

Then there's the role of the characters. Of course, since Zhang Ziyi's the big star in the movie she gets the most limelight, effectively reducing the screen time of the "Hamlet" figure. This means that the one doing most of the angsty thinking is no longer Hamlet, but rather Ziyi, who plays the Empress, or the "Gertrude" figure. Gertrude is transformed from the mother of Hamlet, into his childhood sweetheart, a change I cannot understand. And, she becomes a scheming venomous female dictator reflctive of the real life Empress Dowager Cixi. Because the focus is no longer Hamlet but rather the whole tangled mass of schemes, the plot loses its intellectual and emotional driving force, since we feel no sympathy for Zhang when she dies or Hamlet when he dies. In short, the movie doesn't work.

What it did for me however, was to spur me to read Hamlet again, which I'm doing for s paper anyway and which I've never thoroughly covered. So i guess at least one good thing came out of it haha.

So, that was yesterday. Today I woke up feeling terribly sleepy since by body clock hasn't readjusted tself, and that feeling carried through for the rest of the day. Got back GP and SEA history papers today. I truly truly thank God for my grades thus far because they're better than I expected. I can say my efforts at SEA history after the debacle of BT2 really paid off. Now, we wait for the rest of the papers...

Updates, updates, updates. I watched Singapore Dreaming today with Beni and Dai Wei. Very good show, easily beats Jack Neo's increasingly commercialised and melodramatic social commentaries. In a sense, it felt like a Singaporean Long Day's Journey Into Night. You aren't moved to tears; you're moved to pity, and to try to understand the conflicting threads in that very Singaporean family. I liked the scene of one of those paper houses at Chinese funerals going up in flames. A very visual reminder of how every material thing in life ultimately ends in death.

Oh yes, I got the V for Vendetta DVD on Saturday! Now I shall be able to re-watch the V speech again, haha.

Nothing much left to say, except perhaps my growing anxiety about the exam results. Hai, truth be told I don't know what to expect from Lit. I certainly hope I won't face the same fiasco at BT2, but then again one never knows. Failure is out of the question, but you also never know if you can score. I know, I know, I shouldn't worry, but I simply can't help it. I've always been a worry wart. I have to learn to leave it all in God's hands.

Post-Prelims

Finally, it's over, for now. How can I adequately describe the feeling of writing the last sentence of the last paragraph of the last essay, knowing that in less than a minute the announcement to stop writing will come? I think it can be described as sheer relief. Like a load off your back.

At last the prelims are over. I guess it's fitting that the last paper should be the hardest. Go out guns ablazing eh? But in any case, I truly thank God for seeing me through this stressful and tiring period. The grades, come as they may, are now entirely in His hands. Whatever doubts I have about the papers are, well, unimportant right now. Not like they can do anything. Now, for the next week or so I shall rest and relax. Ahh... It's nice to spend a weekend knowing you have nothing to do after it.

So after the paper yesterday I went off to church for the concert thanksgiving dinner. Not without a final crisis unfolding first of course, which thankfully had a happy ending. After that I went back to chat and eat with the cell. It's always nice to be back in the company of people with a common love. I liked the videos the media team created for each of the dances. Too bad there was nothing about the poets, but then again, filming someone speaking isn't exactly prime-time material. Then we went off to Macs for some supper and more senseless banter, and finally back home. For once, a peaceful sleep undisturbed by thoughts of the morrow. Ignorance, thy name is bliss.

I feel the urge to debate. Maybe now is the time to consider more unpleasant matters eh, owen? Hmm, but that would be ironic in the light of my last paragraph, haha.

Prelims Part 2, Day 4

Mrs Elizabeth Choy, former teacher in St. Andrew's School, has died. With her passing, the nation, and school, loses another of its war heroes. For it was through her experiences, and her story, that succeeding generations of Singaporeans gained a first hand account of the horrors of occupation and of the Kempeitai, and it was through her that we gain that enduring image of the simple wartime meal of porridge and tapioca. For my part I'll always remember the story of her scrubbing the prison toilet with a stone till it became smooth, and her appearances at Founder's Day each year.

On another note, today I completed the penultimate paper of the prelims. My mood gets better as Friday draws nearer. Tomorrow we shall go at it one last time for this season, another swing at the Cold War. I'm going to give it my best shot, if I can. Pre-exam visualisations are always good, although they must be tempered with qualifications. Here's praying for the best!

Prelims, Part 2, Day 1

Our games being done, we plunge back into the whirlpool to witness the tragic loading of a Moorish bed, and such like. I trust that my bewilderment was not as bad as the weaver's and that I was actually writing sense. It felt like the day on which we did GP, where I got to school feeling all bleary-eyed from a lack of sleep. Well, it will pass, although right now, I'd rather have an amorous liaison in a garden than study. But sacrifices have to be made.

So, we are back into the fray. Two thirds of lit is done, and the rest of the week looks set to be one of non-stop rushing and mugging. I'm looking forward to the dinner on Friday, where I can unwind again. There are benefits to starting the prelims earlier. You don't spend so much time in anxiety before it, and you finish earlier. Ah well, here's to the end then.

We had a buddy group outing yesterday! To Turf City, of all places. To eat steamboat, like the ones at Marina South. The place was so ulu, like some lost part of Singapore still stuck in the 1980s.

I've never particularly liked steamboat, the fried kind. I prefer traditional steamboats where you actually steam the food, not fry it ala Seoul Garden style. Everytime I eat that kind of steamboat I feel the need to go home, bathe, and detoxify. It's like the oil gets everywhere. Oh well, but it makes for great fellowship time I suppose.

The problem with having the holidays in between the prelims is that, while it provides a breather and much needed revision time, it also creates the extremely strong illusion of a holiday. An illusion that I unfortunately allow myself to fall for time and time again. Oh well, I guess I need to continually kick myself in the behind to get back to work.

It never rains but pours. An entire day of non-stop rain. It made me wonder how is it possible that we are not self-sufficient in water. If our water supply was cut off from the north, I wonder how long our supplies would last. If you stood by a reservoir would you actually be able to see the water level going down, draining away? I think that would be a rather alarming sight.

Anyway, I went out despite the rain. Had lunch with Quek, walked around, chit chatted. It was nice to be able to relax after three days of relentless writing. But as always, to break for too long is to invite the inertia of slacking to set in, something that must not happen now.

I've been having nagging doubts about all my papers so far. It's the little things that creep in. Maybe I wrote out of point? I didn't cover enough ground? Did I approach the question correctly? So, I've been trying to block all these irritating thoughts out. What's done is done, so be it. Right now I'll just focus on doing my best for whatever's left. And whatever's left is a lot...

Prelims, Day 3

At last, the first half is over. Well, it feels like the first half but in actual fact it's not, cos the heavier papers are after the holidays, which, once again, should not be called "holidays". Anyway, Econs was ok I think, but I've been wrong before, so I'll wait and see.

Discussing papers after the exams feels to me like the student's version of war stories. You know, the image of a bunch of old soldiers gathering around a fire or something to discuss old times, or maybe campers huddling to hear ghost stories at night? Well, exam stories are pretty much the same. All traumatizing experiences more or less.

Oh yes, today I got my adjudication certificate, so now I am a certified debate adjudicator (DA). Hahaha. I hope I get invited to judge again. It's quite fun, IF you're judging the right teams that is...

I realised that despite my praises of the arts and literature so often, my blog has no poetry. So, to add a lyrical feel to my post I shall put a poem here. And I'll put one of the poems from the comparative poetry section, since it's in Olde English and therefore feels more poetic. (I'm a sucker for Olde English, that's why I did that section. It's also one of the reasons why I use the King James translation of the Bible haha)

To my inconstant mistress

When thou, poor excommunicate
From all the joys of love, shalt see
The full reward and glorious fate
Which my strong faith shall purchase me,
Then curse thine own inconstancy.

A fairer hand than thine shall cure
That heart, which thy false oaths did wound;
And to my soul a soul more pure
Than thine shall by Love's hand be bound,
And both with equal glory crown'd.

Then shalt thou weep, entreat, complain
To Love, as I did once to thee;
When all thy tears shall be as vain
As mine were then, for thou shalt be
Damned for thy false apostasy.


Ahh, beautiful isn't it? I wish I had more time to do a more complete and dense appreciation of it, but oh well, an exam's an exam, and we have to make do. Ok, I shall go laze off now haha. I'll probably resume studying tomorrow. All the best to everyone taking prelims! God bless!

The Prelims, Day 2

After a tremendous effort, for truly it was tremendous, I got through SEA History today. Few science people will ever understand, I think, the rush of writing four essays (full fledged, not some 10 mark question) in three hours at one shot. Even GP allows for a toilet break in between. What an experience. So as of now, we have completed half of history, one third of literature, and all of GP.

Writing history essays is like a race against the clock. It's like some who-writes-fastest-wins kind of competition. Forget about checking your work. That's so secondary school. Here you want to finish your work. And of course, since this is the A levels, there is no need to check as you're expected to know your stuff, so everything that goes down the first time must be pitch perfect, so to speak. I thank God that I actually managed to finish today's paper in time. AND, write beyond three pages, at least for most of them. By the last essay I was flagging, and in any case I'd overshot on the sbq.

Now I shall have lunch, then relax for a while, before going off to revise econs. Tomorrow will be another day of writing. Three essays, two and a half hours. He who writes fastest wins! sigh...

Mr Smith just sent me an email saying we were ranked fifth after this year's debating championships. When I say "we", I mean the juniors. For some reason, after this year I'm quite reluctant to associate myself too closely with the society's current members. I'm a bit of an elitist I guess.

Fifth. That's quite surprising to me actually, because it means the school is back at its usual status in the debating world. For years now we've constantly been ranked fifth. Only last year did we manage to break into the top four, after a five-year drought. I think all the ruckus surrounding the dismal state of the team made me think they were much worse off than they are. If I look at it relatively speaking, however, then it seems fine, cos the rankings reflect a recurrent trend.

Of course, we all know that just because the ratings stay the same doesn't mean the quality's been maintained. The ranking is in fact, nominal, you might say, while in terms of real ranking the quality has gone down tremendously. It's a nationwide trend I guess. It merely confirms what I've suspected all along, that Singapore is in for a hard time next year at the world championships. It's really puzzling. Maybe in years to come 2006 will be labelled "The Lost Generation" for national debating. Unless, of course, this year's batch is merely the tip of the iceberg, in which case we're all in for a really bumpy ride.

Pissed off

I'm writing this as a warning to all and as a way of letting off steam.

This morning someone messaged me to ask how many people were in school today, and how I felt about this. Now, for the sake of public knowledge, I'm going to answer this here. Only two people from the class were here today, me and Jeremy. The reason I'm putting this here is because I don't want anyone asking me this tomorrow, because I'm going to get pissed off. I don't care that that person told me not to get agitated. The fact is, I AM agitated now, and it's preventing me from studying.

Let me make this clear: I'm FINE if people don't come to school. I don't want to come either. BUT, if you don't come, good, then just leave it at that. Don't come back the next day and ask me who was here and so on. It makes me very agitated, because to me, it smacks of gloating. I don't care who the hell you are, but if anyone asks me tomorrow about what happened today, I'm going to get very angry. If I want to talk about today to you, I'll initiate the conversation. I will not tolerate questions.

As a side note, Jeremy is open to questions. So go to him if you want to find out anything. I'm afraid I'm far more edgy than him, but that's the way I am. It's half a week to the prelims and I'm very high strung now, so I'm not going to tolerate nonsense.

And now that that's done, I can go study.

I typed out a rather angry post just now but I decided not to post it. Some things are better left unsaid. All I needed was some place to release my frustration. I wish it were all gone. I wish the exams were here and gone. I wish, I wish I was sitting in some cafe having hot chocolate, chatting with an old friend, just chilling and hanging out, without a care in the world. For the sake of my sanity I think I'll do just that soon. Maybe I should have done it today.

It's nice to be invited to judge. I signed up for the DA today. I see it as a way of keeping in touch with the circle. And, it's a rather prestigious and relaxing/stressful pastime. Who knows, one day I might be president, haha.

Sometimes, now actually, I wish I didn't have to justify each and every one of my actions.

The Age of Rebellion

I am tired, so drained by school. Today I felt so tired like never before, and after dinner just now this wave of exhaustion just overcame me, lulling me to sleep. Only a phonecall broke my dreams and brought me back to this harsh reality that there is still work to be done, and that it is far from over, and that I must still face that same cycle of anger and impatience.

It has progressed so far I can hardly spend an evening where the anger does not break forth from some slight irritation, even a questioning of the actions. You are stuck in that age of rebellion, where the world seems yours by right, and woe to them that stand in your path. Each day I pray for renewed patience, and for the light to clear the scales from your eyes that sometimes see, but all too often shut themselves in self-righteous indignation. All too often I find myself wondering how that person or this could pass Sunday after Sunday not realising anything, when I realise that such self-delusion begins here, with me, with you. I try not to judge, but each time I end up passing verdict, because I cannot but help.

I want to spend just one day at home, free from the calls of school upon my life, resting, and then studying at leisure. This week started out fine, but as it progressed I realised the competing pressures of school and revision are beginning to overwhelm the latter. I fall short of my goals because of this tiredness that sends me to sleep, yet I am forced back to school again and again, which will tire me further. I understand now why so many people just stay at home and study. The days are increasingly useless. But I will never get anywhere with parents for whom skipping school does not exist in their vocabulary. And I suppose that after all, there must be people out there who attend school without fail and still do well. Let's all hope towards the latter.

I asked Larissa to do that 7 question quiz that's been going around on blogs recently, so here it is:
Joel :
1) Joel can't scare with his stares! haha.
2) Prove to me that you aren't gay by getting attached =p
3) Red, cos you are vibrant and metrosexual i suppose.
4) The fact that you can make watching a debate entertaining. We never fail to beam when you go up.
5) First and clearest: The guy we thought was really gayy at the first debate auditions ( i'm sorry =p)
6) A elephant. Very sombre i suppose, both of you.
7) Are you sure nothing's going on between you and .... you know who i'm talking about right?

As you can see, my sexual orientation seems to be in question. But for the last time, I am NOT gay, larissa... And, if you think that there's something going on between me and you know who, then wouldn't that mean I'm straight? Oh, there's still the bi-sexual argument I guess... And in any case, the answer to the last question is NO.

I'm sleepy... Think I'll nap, then do work. Today was a really boring day...

Dilemmas

There is a crisis looming. For the sake of the greater good, I seem compelled to go down a course with no return, whose outcome it is impossible to predict, and the odds are that it will not be good. Even if the desired result is achieved, relations will be soured. And if the outcome is not achieved, relations will be soured anyway. But it seems that it must be done, for the sake of the future of this school's debating career.

But maybe there's hope? Maybe this year was just a fluke and we'll get a better crop next year? Maybe he'll do better with a bunch of intelligent people? After all, we didn't turn out that bad.

Ah well. Bad time to be bogged down with such things. They require a lot of care, effort and sensitivity. Politics. And to think I thought that I could perhaps end my two years here care-free, after having the greater part of the time plagued with it. It's all your fault owen, you reminded me...


Anyway, I think today was a productive day, apart from the little diversion in the afternoon, which was pleasant nonetheless. I finished the Middle East test, did Quoyle, which is so much easier than the bloody Tree of Man, and did an Econs test too. I think my revision engine is starting up nicely. Let's hope it doesn't run out of steam too soon.

A most sobering truth

I went to get out my BT1 progress report and compared it to my BT2 one. Apart from GP, all my grades have stayed exactly the same, including the marks themselves. The troubling thing is that while everything's the same, my strength relative to the cohort has gone down. In every subject my percentile is down, some rather substantially. It confirms only something I already knew since the results came back. Stagnation. It is that most insidious of perils. While I'm doing just enough to stay just there, everyone else is forging ahead. I suppose such little reminders are neccessary to keep me motivated. Ah well...

In other news, something happened today that made me feel rather uneasy about myself. I wonder if this society we live in makes us less human as the days go by. I realise that I'm a terrible comforter. I can listen, offer a few words of advice if they're appropriate, but in most situations I simply don't know what to do. I dislike giving cliches, and when I do offer advice it must happen in a calm rational atmosphere where the person in question is calm too, not in hysterics or tears. I absolutely have no idea what to do about tears. I think I'm too rational at times. It's not necessarily a good thing. I mean that I need to operate analytically/logically. Which explains why I'm not very good at handling emotional situations. They are never very rational, and they usually throw me off balance. Hmm, guess I need to get...more in touch with my emotions? urgh, that sounded a bit, um, gay. But there, it's a choice between humanity or robotics.

I also just realised how fortunate I am to be able to witness fireworks from the comfort of my home. I guess year after year of the same thing kind of wears off the thrill. I begin to take things for granted. But, it is still a sight, and this year I've had the pleasure of watching the whole Fireworks Festival without leaving home. One of the reasons why my father calls this his mansion in the sky, haha.

Meandering

Last night I went to the Esplanade again for the band concert this time round. Apart from the mistakes made here and there it was quite good, but I wouldn't say fantastic, because in a concert band performance a short out of place squeak has the effect of jarring me out of the experience for a while. Still, I've always liked it whenever the band plays. I loved the way the school song sounded yesterday. And, I think I like the theatre better than the concert hall. More cosy, classy and glamerous haha. the concert hall has a green decor for goodness' sake...

I have something to say about meandering. It happens whenever I'm in a group of people trying to get from point A to point B. For some reason, I always feel like I'm the only one with a sense of purpose and direction about me in such situations. The rest just mill about talking.

"So, are we going?"

"Hmm, yeah."

chit chat, chit chat, mill around, yak some more.

"Eh, can we move?"

"Yeah sure, sure. We're going."

mill, chit chat, look around aimlessly.

It is a most irritating experience. Thank God for people like Benita. It's nice to know there are people out there who feel the same way.

Ah well, I suppose at the end of the day some people will tell me I'm too much in a hurry. Perhaps, and also perhaps not.

Thanks for all the writing advice everyone :) Let's just see how things work out...

Anyway, I'm still feeling rather drowsy. I slept past 12 last night because of Rapture, which is waaay past my bedtime. So now I don't really feel like doing anything strenuous, which I hope will change soon because I want to get started on my work.

But let me comment on Rapture. Firstly I thought the theatre was fabulous. The gold and red interior looked like classical European concert hall. Then the dances were fantastic. I can't say which was my favourite, because they were all really quite nice, and they came one after another so I didn't have time to think which was better. I really liked the Singaporean one though, if only for sheer comic value. If I ever thought Musa had some shred of manliness/straightness still, it's all gone now. Last night he proved that he was utterly gay. In a good way though. At least it makes for laughs. In any case I think he's a really good dancer. His own dance was quite nice.

Ok, I'm going off now. My bed looks especially comfy suddenly...

In the midst of an intense philosophical debate over the definition of luck with Benita I turned and asked, "What's your definition of luck, Vicks?"

"Something I lack," was her reply, eyes downward, the corners of her mouth already curling upwards as laughter burst forth.

These, and many equally brainless moments, marked our time on the balcony.


In other news, I just checked out Boey Kim Cheng's new series of poems, and I hereby declare that he finally seems to have found some direction in life. At least he's poems don't sound half as angsty anymore. Rather placid in fact. I prefer the older style.

It is very frustrating for me to study so much and then be let down by the speed at which I write. The stupidity of the situation stems from the fact that I'm being constrained by a factor not easily changed. If I was being let down by a lack of content, that can be easily amended. But now, three and a half weeks to go to the prelims, can I successfully alter my writing speed? After living and writing this way for 18 years, I am now faced with the extremely real possibility that even though I may have studied my hardest and smartest and worked as much as I can, come November I might cut off from my desired grades simply because I cannot write fast enough. This is a possibility that annoys me to no end.

Others study and practice writing for essay skills. I practice writing for penmenship skills. And it is simply not easy to change my writing speed, because that involves changing my handwriting, and many people, save for a lifechanging event involving their limbs, hardly ever change their handwriting. It stays the same! Can I be expected to speed up in three weeks? And even if I am expected to (I am, actually, considering all things), can I actually accomplish it? I cannot and will not believe something this banal will actually hinder me. People don't write as much as they should because they may not know what to say. I don't write as much as I should because I can't (this is for those occassions on which I do know what to write of course).

And it is with these very frustrating thoughts that I left my IH test, thoughts that superceded ones that others would no doubt consider more important, thoughts like "Was I right? What was the correct answer?" I consider these thoughts more important too. But this afternoon, the sheer inanity of my situation blocked out all others for a while.

Past and Future

This morning I was thinking about my past and future. Not long term, just the immediate spans before and after now.

On the way to school I suddenly started thinking about NS. I think it was because we didn't have PE yesterday, and the fact that the Napfa results are going to be submitted to Mindef very soon, that got me thinking about it. Now, whenever I talk about the army, people expect me to launch into a barrage of angry attacks. They think I dislike the army so much because of the host of reasons I usually offer: It's a bloody waste of time, the regimentation sucks, I have no national pride, etc. That's only part of the story. My antagonism towards the army is only the corollary of something deeper. It is my fear.

I fear entering the army. It's a deep, primal fear that guts my system and sends my heart rate up. I avoid thinking about the army not because I can't stand it but because I'm afraid of it. Why? Because of everything it represents. Entering the army is a new environment. But it's different from any new environment. It is so fearful to me because it represents a new environment where I am completely cut off from everything I hold familiar and true. In the army, I am forced to rely upon the very thing that has never been my forte. My physical strength.

I am an academic, honestly speaking and without ego. I am an academic in that studying is my strength. Logical, rational debate is my weapon. Never in my life have I ever come close to possessing the physical strength or menace to actually pummel someone. But it has never mattered that much, save during the annual Napfa, because I have always relied on academic strength to get by. In the army however, my situation will be entirely different. For two whole years, I will be forced to constantly rely upon my physicality to survive. That scares the shit out of me because sometimes I honestly wonder if I can take all the physical training, the regimentation and the inane orders. I actually wonder if I'll physically survive BMT. I will be shuffled into a company of people I have never known, and what frightens me is that they might all be ah bengs or jocks conversing in hokkien, mandarin, every language except the one I use. There will be bullying and sabotage and teasing and embarrasment because the entire atmosphere of the army centres around brute strength, something I lack. For once in my life I will be close to helpless.

I will be stuck in an environment of constant machochism and male camaraderie. Now, I'm all for guy bonding, but when the bonding becomes all gritty and grimy and sweaty and involves soccer, something I hear army guys do very often, I freak out. Give me a library or a classroom or something that actually requires mental strength, and I'll bond all you want. There's something crass about male bonding that repells me if it involves nothing but physical puns.

So there, an early morning horror story to brighten my day. The reason I get pissed off by the SAF is because I fear entering it. For two years my mind will rot away, doing absolutely nothing mental. Even during the lectures that I hear they have they will be about assembling new ways to murder people. I wonder how many fresh faced conscripts that pass those gates each year consider the fact that they are being trained to kill. I wonder how many wives and girlfriends, no matter how proud they get on National Day as the parade marches past, consider the fact that their men are now skilled butchers.

Oh well, I guess if you can't fight them, join them. No doubt wise sages will soon enlighten me with the positive aspects of NS. The toughened body (of course), the stamina, discpline, perserverance. But having a bright outlook doesn't mean my fear will be any less.


The Past.

During Econs lecture today I chuckled to myself because I realised God has a sense of humour. One week from now will be the school's annual dance concert, Rapture, the next biggest thing on the college social calendar after Grad Night. Last year, around this time, I was in an emotional whirlwind. I think my companions through the lecture got me thinking about this again.

I shall enjoy Rapture much more this time round. Last year I sat through it with a pounding heart, my nerves on end. The smiles after were forced. My exit was as quick as possible.

Not long after I had a long sms conversation with a certain someone.

It was at this point in my thoughts that I realised, how ironically, that one year on, I sat between both of them, at ease and in peace.

God has a sense of humour, and it's at these moments that I thank Him for it.

Bring me through all my storms on eagles' wings, Father. Keep me in perfect peace.

Not quite deja vu

Yesterday I witnessed the demise of a team that was headed for destruction from the beginning. I wish my words weren't so harsh, nor so cynical, but no matter how far they've come, no matter how much they've improved, it has not been enough. They still cannot think fast enough, nor see fast enough, even hear fast enough. Next year Singapore will crash and burn in the World Schools Championships unless the potential team drastically improves. Owen and I predict they will be out by the octofinals. Given the time and amount of training they'll receive I'd revise that to maybe the quarters. But hey, miracles have been known to happen.

So it wasn't deja vu. I wonder if their seniors felt some sense of vindication as their juniors undid what we did to them last year. Dennis says they should be feeling insulted, that so bad a team won where they did not. I suppose there is logic in that. But a win's a win anyway.

Lousy debates aside, I look forward to getting into a good one myself soon. Nothing makes me feel like debating more than watching one, especially a lousy one. So, here's to the All Stars quadrangulars/tournament soon! (I hope Ms de Souza is reading this haha... Anyway give us a call and we'll book the rooms or something :) Ah, but everyone's so busy these days...

I realise that I quite like Boey Kim Cheng's style of poetry. I find the language very vivid and rich. It lacks the lyrical flowing style of classical poetry, but the free verse is strangely appealing to me. It has a strong flow in itself too.

Tomorrow will be a long day. But right now, I just feel like sleeping. Ngargh. If only we could return to a carefree life for a while. Or is there such a thing to return to in the first place?

A short and brilliant (considering how long it's been) spar made my day. Debating is like cycling, I guess. You never forget how to do it. And a dip into that pool once again is really refreshing, especially after a long day at school. I realise that everytime I watch some sporting match involving the school I somehow feel like debating after that. My own sport, haha.

So anyway, it's been a while since I blogged, and the events since then have just whizzed past me. It's all becoming a blur now, with nothing significant standing out. I enjoy the company of friends, getting over the boredom of the eternal tutorials, becoming slightly crazy in the absence of progress.

This morning I missed my stop for the second time in a month. I must stop this before it becomes habit. It annoys me, really, committing such silly mistakes.

Then later in the day I got back my Korean War script that gave me some reassurance that yes, I am making some progress, that my efforts are paying off. I musn't slacken now, nor lose pace, but the days are growing soo long, and the lessons so dreary. Our econs tutor, to put it blandly, is slowing down the class. It appears extremely ironic that a subject so concerned with productivity levels should be the one generating the least amount of it, or so it would seem. I've been daydreaming with Dai Wei about kidnapping Mr Nga and forcing him to teach our class instead. Oh for some clarity out of this mess!

I shall enjoy tomorrow. We shall be involved in hard labour, followed by PC, arguably still my favourite subject, then finally pizza. After all this I shall go off to YJ for the quarterfinals of the debating championships. I really hope they win. I want to see deja vu, and today's spar has whetted my appetite.

Anyway, this Sunday will be the More To This Life concert. I really like the dances, especially Why. It never fails to move me. And I particularly like one line in Vincent's poem.

Oh I bear the burden of a life of days

It seems really apt.


I still tremble, yet want to draw near to the fire. I think I have a phobia of the altar.

Catharsis

Today was thoroughly eventful. To begin with, it was the Council's stepping down ceremony. Now, everytime I blog or speak about the Council people expect negative things to come out of my mouth, but this time I won't say any of that. In spite of everything, if they did one thing really well, which I think is plainly obvious, it was in sheer effort and determination. So I think it was appropriate that Mrs Lim read the passage on the talents for the ceremony. So well done, thou good and faithful servants.

Derek posted the Olympic motto on the stepping down video, which ran something like, "The essential thing is not to have triumphed, but to have fought well." How typically diplomatic of the Olympics, but the battle-hardened cynic might reply, "No one remembers the first runner-up." Isn't that the beef about today's society? No matter how much we praise the effort, people still value the result at the end. Our meritocracy is not truly meritocratic in that it fails to recognise the merit in working hard, which does not always translate into good results, the one thing that the system really recognises. And I think living today really gets people down because of this basic flaw in the system: the absence of a clear link between effort and success.

This week has not been a very good week, because all the BT2 results came out. There have been great disappointments. But thank God for the little joys planted here and there: a grade better than expected, a friend to take comfort in, etc. Before I entered JC, I never truly understood the power of catharsis, but now I do. I think for me the best catharsis comes through speaking or crying. There is comfort in pouring out your woes to a friend who understands. There is comfort in collapsing into a heaving wrack of tears. But the ultimate comfort is that we are not of this world, though we be in it, and that we belong to a society higher than this, one where effort is recognised, every tear is noted, every triumphed celebrated, every valley walked with, every mountain scaled with.

And in the final analysis, there is more to this life than just grades, and even the paper chase takes on a new meaning when you know who you're chasing it for.

The morning after

This morning I woke up with a profound (should I use profound? perhaps strong would be better) sense of emptiness. There was absolutely nothing to look forward to, nothing to get excited about, nothing left to do. I said last night that I'd done my last service to the school, but I only felt it this morning. College Day was the last big event for me. I have nothing left to do but study. All the weeks in front of me now are just filled with days upon days of studying and getting back results that I don't want to get. My History is screwed, I don't know what to expect for Econs, and there's an immense amount of revision to do. On top of this, my mind blackens whenever I consider the fact that every minute that passes brings me closer to NS.

But I want to talk about the emptiness for a while, because it occupied me for some time this morning (how ironic). It gave me the realisation that for a long time, my life has just been a series of events to look forward to. So the minute I have nothing left to do, I'm done for. But this is not how it's meant to be. Where does God come into the picture then? I was wondering, because am I not supposed to find complete and utter satisfaction and joy in Christ? Of course, I think inexpressible joy cannot be found on Earth, because then no one would bother going to Heaven. But if I can feel so empty on a Saturday morning, then it makes me wonder if the focus of my life has been wrong. I don't have to wonder, really. Deep down I know. I've been very preoccupied by just living from day to day, looking forward to one event after another, that I've neglected the things that really matter. And right now, the struggle for me is to find that right balance of living for God in the midst of my daily routine.

Ah well, I don't feel so bad anymore, but I still dread going back to school on Monday morning, and settling back (settling back? or starting?) into revision mode. Well, at least there ARE some bright sparks along the way. Rapture, the band concert (during which Vicks plans to abandon me), Brendon's still-to-come dinner treat, friends. But there, see, what happens when these all pass?

There is a saying: The man who has God and the whole world has no more than the man who has nothing but God.
That gives me tremendous comfort.

The Disembodied Voice

Finally, College Day is over. No more rehearsals, no more blazers, no more standing up for long hours. All the pomp and pageantry is done, and I've completed my last service to the school. My oratorical career in SA has come full circle. I kind of like the fact that I became a disembodied voice at the end. Always wanted to try that, haha.

So, now, I can focus on my studies. I'm not satisfied with the results I've gotten thus far, and I frankly feel as though I'm stagnating or deproving in fact. I have to try harder or work smarter to move on, move higher. Ah well, to work.

Last night I had dinner with the debate alumni. We learned some interesting stuff, at length though, thanks to the story telling skills of Ms de Souza. Incidentally, If you're reading this Adrienne, you and Candice can still manage make noise at College Day two years after you've left.

So yeah, I'm very tired now. Going to bed.

Chris was talking today about how God wants us in that place where we feel that we absolutely cannot do anymore, anything without Him, and how that in that moment, that should be the kind of attitude we should have in relying on Him. Total faith, total dependence, Peter on water, a child in her father's hands.

It didn't really strike me till I just read someone's blog and was thinking to myself, well, he wants to do well, good for him, but take it easy boy. And something really disgusting came into my mind that made me realise how true it is, that the rich will always find it hardest to inherit the kingdom, because they don't know what it feels like to be utterly dependent upon one person for their life. And once again, my old enemy, Pride, rears its ugly head.

By the grace of God, I finished Block Test 2. Just as I predicted, I was struggling to pull through, even earlier than I expected though. Every source that I completed was a chore. But, I got that sudden extra burst of energy I needed to finish the last essay, so thank God, really. It's a weight off my shoulders.

So now, I feel free, temporarily. I'm going to enjoy the rest of the week and the next at least. Catch up on reading (hopefully), sleep, yak, play, ahhh...

My History notes are strewn in various piles across the table, but aside from a few half hearted attempts to read up on the Security Council I have not done anything productive this morning, which is why I'm here blogging, because I feel so disinterested in studying at the moment and unmotivated that I might as well pop in and update the blog.

Econs so exhausted me yesterday that when I came home I went and slept through the afternoon, woke up, walked around groggily and then started to compile my list of UN author credentials. It was completed in the night finally. I have no idea how I'm going to pull through History tomorrow but I'm trusting in God. I mean this physically, not even mentally yet, because yesterday by the time I got to the case study I had a headache creeping up, and as I ploughed through I was like, "Ok, qn A's done. Argh, there's still B, C, and D to go. (And when I was at C) Ngargh, there's still D!" I can already hear myself saying tomorrow, "Oh great, that's one source based done, but there's still another to go, and another, and another..."

It feels like it's the holidays already, because everytime I finish an exam I think the holidays are round the corner, but they're not, cos in jc it's the other way round, which I still can't decide is good or bad. But nevermind, because this time tomorrow we shall be freed of the block test, and I can lay aside all the bloody names and dates and things history throws at us. We were chatting yesterday and I too realised that I've lost my initial love of history. I still like it in some sense, especially cold war history, but it's become so terribly detailed and dreary that I cannot see myself enjoying it again for its fun, like the boy whom CS Lewis says cannot see the point of studying Xenophon till he finishes his course and masters Greek in all its intricacies. Blah.

Oh! Superman! I want to go watch that! SOON. But there's a silly rehearsal for College Day tomorrow so while everyone runs hither and thither free upon the sunlit grass I shall have to be stuck in school till 3 and beyond. THREE. Of all things. I've got nothing to do for four hours...

Oh yes, and my inbox is being flooded with email from JC 1 scholars because last year, when a few of us were called up for the scholarship group thingy, I stupidly allowed all mail from the scholar's site on Moodle to be sent to me. So recently, when Mrs Neu called for the JC 1 scholars to send her their individual achievements list, they ALL started sending them one by one, and for some reason, insteade of sending it to her directly, it comes to me too. I was wondering if I should delete them all, bcause achievements lists can be quite interesting reading if you know whom they concern, and a few of them are my juniors. But heck, I couldn't be bothered, so I've been deleting them as they come. I wonder how many are there.

Okay, I shall go try to study now. Ohh, but freedom is so close, so close!

I just read Owen's blog, and I wondered if it's common for debaters to romanticise the art so, because he's not the first or only one to paint debating in such loving terms. I guess it applies to everyone's chosen sport/activity. But I'm always in pleasant delight at the way debaters seem to elevate our joy to such levels of adulation, or describe it moment by moment. And reading his post suddenly made me want to post something about it too, since as he put it, debating is a form of escapism, and the days are growing shorter, the hours more anxious.

What a narcissistic bunch we all are. Or at least me, haha.

Once, maybe, the block tests are over, and we are granted a momentary reprieve from preparation, we can indulge in a nice long debate with the best of minds. Gather all the seniors together. Form various permutations of the All-Stars. Have round upon round of argument. a Senior Quadrangular, why not?


You know, at the end of it all, debating is actually supposed to serve a purpose, namely the production of the best solutions to the world's problems, honed and sharpened in the ferment of debate. But here, we've turned it into an end in itself. Ha, but then, the sharpening of minds is another goal of debating.

Goodnight, Mr Chairman.

Debating

I want to debate. The past few days have whetted my appetite for more. And I don't just want to debate against anyone; I want the best. I want to experience again the feeling of having to stretch my mind and go up there and speak well, sit down, and leave the floor feeling satisfied, knowing I've done my best against a good team and come off well. These two weeks have reinforced for me, more than ever, my belief that debating is so much more than about one person. It is above all a team effort. And I hope, I sincerely hope, that the five people who are to carry on the torch learn that well, and learn that soon. Yesterday, I would have ranted about how pathetic they were, how absolutely low they went. But after today, I can say that at least they've improved. All I hope is that they continue to listen to their opponents, and think. They have potential, and looking at the top four schools, they can go far.

I also want to say that I've seen what it means to live your life as a living testimony for God, through my senior and friend, Brendon. He's earned tremendous respect from me for his humility, his dedication to coaching a bunch of stuck up ingrates despite suffering from flu, fever, n a sore throat, his graciousness and commitment. I'm not used to publicly affirming someone, but then he's given me reason enough to affirm him. I've realised the impact of living a life like that on me, which has given me pause to reflect. No one is perfect, but then if you're different enough, people sit up and notice.

World conquest and the Great Singapore Sale

It's been a lazy start to the second week of the holidays for me. The anxiety about the block test has begun to creep in, resulting in a few half hearted starts at studying. Still, the progress seems fine to me for the start of the week. I'm all but done with the Crisis of Communism, moving on to Econs tomorrow, if I can being myself to it. I realise I'm purposefully avoiding Econs for now, for the very reason that it'll take the most amount of effort to get through, which is of course the very reason why I should start on it as soon as possible. Oh well, I'll try tomorrow.

In other news, I saw my old Civilisation 3 game manual yesterday, which immediately tempted me to play it, and so I reinstalled it today and began conquering the world. Well, not exactly, it's a slow start, as usual. I've never really been an aggressively expansionistic player in these sort of games. I tried Persia, then switched to India, so now I'm ruling a good portion of the globe as Gandhi. I had a good laugh when I established New Delhi, which, according to Manit, is separate from Delhi. Incidently the game separates out Delhi and New Delhi as two different cities.

Anyway, on Sunday I had a big shopping spree at John Little. I don't think I've shopped so much in a loong time. Quite uncharacteristic. Nevertheless, it was quite therapeutic, seeing the stack of clothes on your bed at the end of the day, haha.

Ooh I just had an idea! I should have renamed my ruler as Manit! then name one of the cities Gianchandani! hahahhaa

Guacamole and little green men

The Army, in all its bureaucratic magnificence, makes me like it less than I already did even before I enter its ranks. I couldn't believe a medical checkup could take 4 hours before I went for it, and I still don't. I now believe it takes five and a half hours. And don't get me started on the Oath of Allegiance, or else I might find black suited men knocking on my door soon. Actually, some of the lines remind me of what Martin was barking out during the college play.

That was on Thursday. Yesterday I went back to school for GP makeup, then I caught up with Quek for lunch. A late lunch, in fact, at Carl's Jr. Ahh, now that was filling. I've developed a fondness for guacamole after that. It's a green substance that looks like green mayonnaise, or wasabi, depending on your preference. According to wikipedia, it's an avocado based relish or dip originating from the time of the Aztecs. Great! Mexican food! If only we had tortilla chips to go with it.

So, between discovering how mangled the movie made the Phoenix storyline, I had a lazy afternoon chatting about old times. It is nice, you know, to sit in a cafe or something just jabbering away with an old friend. It is very relaxing, a marked change from a usually busy schedule. We even talked about Earth 2025, that silly old game we used to play when we bored during robotics sessions. It developed into such an obsession I was rushing home everyday to check on my country to see if it was still intact. There is a thrill involved when launching devastating attacks upon an unsuspecting soul, especially when you're launching a missile at a friend. That particular incident was really silly...

Anyway, now I have two books waiting to be read, courtesy of Quek. I shall read the thinner one first, because it's by CS Lewis, not because it's thinner. I want to go out again soon too, once KH returns from whichever part of Malaysia he happened to be in yesterday, haha.

Hmm, there's apparently a Guacamole Fund, but it doesnt't seem to have anything to do with guacamole as far as I can tell...

The First Monday of the Holidays

After all the buildup, the holidays are finally here, and suddenly, I find myself lounging about with nothing to do. Well, I do have things to do of course, but I don't feel like touching them just yet.

First, a recap of the weekend. I watched the Canterbury Tales on Saturday night, and it was really quite funny and lively. I don't know if the artistic licence used brightened the Tales up more than they already are, but in any case I think the production did a great job in bringing out the boisterous, cheeky, and downright sexual flavour of Chaucer's works. It was a nice way to end the evening.

Then on Sunday we celebrated my father's birthday with a huge chocolate banana cake from Secret Recipe. It definitely weighs more than a kilo, and the height is just awesome. Next year, I shall get my black forest cake from there. At night we ate seafood at the Kallang riverfront. I wanted chilli crabs, but my brother sulked as usual and we had to switch to a crab cooked with garlic and spring onions. Still palatable, but I've been wanting to try a nice chilli crab for so long. The last time I ate one is beyond my memory.

It started on Friday, after training, or maybe even earlier, and since then I've been daydreaming about the team (our team) going head to head with rj in the nationals semis and beating them to face ac in the finals. It's a strange fantasy anyway, one that can never be fulfilled. But you know, after watching all the sports teams play their hearts out this season, I wish I was back in the July of last year. And whenever my mind goes back to that time I imagine all of us sitting on stage in an intense debate against rj (why rj? I think it's partly becos I'm tired of debating against our usual friends, and I'd like to save ac for the finals), and we're opp, since we've always been better at opp. It's a very close match, and we split the judges 3-2, but for the first time we actually win the damned split! Doesn't matter what the motion is, in fact, the whole dream involves me taking much of the limelight, haha, but then Owen delivers a stunning blow after Suhas's own brilliant speech, and I round up the reply with a flourish. Everything is pitch perfect, the style, the content, the argumentation. Our teamline is consistent through all three speakers. Prop puts up a good defence but they cannot quite reply effectively to one nagging point which we exploit and mercilessly blow up in their faces. Ah, sweet victory.

But alas, we all know our glory days are over. Time to fade into the shadows, buckle down and study hard. Oh, but for that moment, that one moment, we actually had the chance.

Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.

This afternoon's rain has sort of placed me in a quieter, subdued, reflective mode. I love the rain when I'm nicely tucked into bed at home, but not when I'm out. Let me take the opportunity to thank Vicks and Jeremy here for running back to school and out again to get umbrellas for us, even at the risk of physical injury, as Jeremy suffered, and getting drenched, as Vicks suffered. Thank you guys!

So anyway as I was saying I'm now in this quiet reflective mode which I suspect is not too unlike a feeling of sleepiness. But I feel a need to think about my spiritual life in general, which has not been progressing smoothly recently. It's a bad tendency that I have, slipping into nonchalence for long periods of time, kind of wallowing about in lukewarmness. Sometimes I think I'm just lazy, other times I'm too timid. I hope this holidays I can spend some time setting my affairs right.

I just remembered something by CS Lewis. "We have never told the whole truth. We may confess ugly facts, but the tone is false. The very act of confessing - an infinitesimally hypocritical glance - a dash of humour - all this serves to dissociate the facts from yourself." It's at times like this when I remember the true meaning of those words and realise how acute Lewis was in his observations of self. And of course, he's right. How well I know that. It's an ugly truth.

Well, I'm off to dinner. I think a fault of mine is that I can never hold long periods of self-reflection. Or maybe I don't want to. Oh well, I'll leave it to God.

Waiting for the bell to ring

All my lessons have practically degenerated into exercises in patience. I sit there waiting for the bell to ring. The days are becoming so leisurely and frankly, dull, that we spend our time daydreaming of the possibilities available to us come Friday. Ahh, Friday, will it ever come? I dislike the looming prospect of the PC test tomorrow. It's like this untimely obstacle in the way of my path to the weekend. I wish I could get it over and done with as soon as possible. Other than that the rest of the week should be fine. I want to watch X3, and I hope it can be this Friday.

I still don't know what I should do about tomorrow. I'm undecided about going for the hockey girls finals, or to stay for debates. In the first place I don't know if I can skip debates. There are things to discuss... Anyway, I think that Owen should get a service award for debates too, so there, I'm making my stand official here. It's unfair to recognise only one person's efforts in a cca simply because the cca happens to be very small. What if another person did just as much work? (I'm still inclined to think that I've done more work though, hehe...) So, anyway, I wish Jill and co. all the best for their match tomorrow. Hope they win!

I realise NS talk makes me depressed. I don't know how it started, but our conversation somehow drifted into the army as we waited for history makeup. It's really unnerving and gloomy to think about the prospect of entering two years of regimentation, physical hardship, trauma, filth, mud, soil, sand, rain. I wonder if the nation is worth dying for, really. All my life I've always placed NS in a corner of my mind whenever the topic comes up, because I don't want to face it, and anyway it always seemed far away. Now, I'm left with roughly six months of freedom, depending on my performance in Napfa. Oh, the misery.

Let's look at brighter things! I'm home! Nice and dry! My bed seems comfy, and later on I'll snuggle up in it. The food is on the table, the TV dispenses entertainment. Ha, the comforts of home.

It is the last week of school. Yes, the final frontier to cross before we can reach that blessed period of rest, if indeed it can be called rest. I think the June break needs to be renamed. It's not the holidays, it's something else, like extra lessons time. But in any case, I want that break from the regular routine.

On Saturday I went down to watch the team debate at the semis. I don't want to comment too much on that here. I've said much more elsewhere. Then after that I went down to orchard to catch the Da Vinci Code. Interesting movie. I've always been a sucker for conspiracy theories. They bring some mystery into my life. I realise that's why I like adventure stories or thrillers. I like the feeling of being compelled to turn the next page to find out more.

I think I'll go sleep for a while. Then do the SBQ. ugh.

After a valiant attempt to resist returning to me, my watch now sits safely at home. Let me tell you the adventure. I went to Wheelock Place with Dai Wei to collect the watch. So we took the lift up to the eighth floor, but I didn't see and we ended up on the ninth floor. So we decided to take the stairs down one floor. We went down, and found the door locked. So we went back to the ninth floor to take the lift down. But horror of horrors! The ninth floor door was locked! We were trapped in the stairwell! So we went down, and down, trying every door, until at last we re-emerged in the lift lobby of the first floor... Then we went up again via lift. And the rest is history.

I'm tired and sleepy now. I just want to take some rest before I do my work. Night, world.

In larger freedom

I want to thank everyone that tagged after my last post, even though I only actually read the tags on Friday. Even then I was too tired to blog, but I was quite heartened by them.

Quek: yeah, I agree with you. I'm still too afraid, or at least right now, too tired. But it shouldn't be this way, should it?

Benita: yup, pressing on, I mean, what else can we do, right? Thanks for understanding :)

Liz: well, I wasn't pinpointing you, but in any case, thanks for the congrats!

Kelly: haha, you're one of those that make life better too. Perhaps one fine day we can actually say goodbye without rushing off somewhere.

Owen: well, if I didn't think so much I wouldn't be the person you feel crippled without... but it's good having you around anyway. makes me laugh, haha.

And now onto the meat of my post. It's done, I'm done with it. All the bloody late nights working at presentations and what not are done for now. I think this has been one of the most stressful periods of my life, and I shudder to think that the worst is yet to be. Anyway, the MUN presentation was a success on Thursday, so I'm happy about that.

My Vesak Day holiday was totally burnt by what became an 8 hour meeting over the UN seminar presentation. Then yesterday was gone too, since the seminar took up the whole day. But, I'm glad to announce that at least we got 2nd place for our efforts. And, the dinner at Tony Roma's more than made up for the work. There was so much food we had to pack some home. I love Tony Roma's chicken. I absolutely love it. I know they are famous for ribs, but the chicken serving was so large and so nice that by the time I was finished with it I could only take in two ribs, which were nice too, but they didn't rock my socks off. I guess the chicken had overpowered it. In any case, I wasn't wearing socks, hahahaha! (ok that was silly)

I also attended the college play on Friday. Now that was some tricky business of rushing back and forth. I nearly broke down going home, actually. I just felt the strain was almost too much to bear. But anyway I made it home, changed, and was off again. The plays were okay, and I liked the first one better. More thought-provoking, although I believe both were supposed to do the same. Now the image of Vicks dressed up as a ma-jie will forever be engraved in my mind. As though being called one at school wasn't bad enough!

Essentially I'm left with only today free after the long weekend. But I'm still quite tired by all the events of the past few days. I titled this post "In larger freedom" because I thought it apt that the closing words of our presentation yesterday echo my sentiments now. It's all temporal though. I have two tests coming up this week, and more debate training. But this time I refuse to be bogged down by training. The juniors have exceeded my expectations over the weekend and won three debates in a row at the ACJC Debate Invitationals. So, I expect them to be more active in taking charge at meetings. I'll just leave the key with them or something.

Okay, I'm done. I'm in this pleasant state of sleepiness, the residue of an afternoon nap. Now I'll go finish off the rest of the chicken.

Get off my back

It is in the quiet solitude of the night as I walk to the bus stop that the sickness overcomes me. That damp air sticks to my skin and the tiredness washes over. As I reach the bus stop that familiar feeling of irritation takes over. It's always like this. I get charged up and excited during my activities, only to lapse into this bitter, antagonised self.

Why, I wonder, do I have to come home everyday at 8, leave for school by 6.45? People have 8 hour workdays, I have 12. It's just the whole pressure of working late, coming home, and doing more work that really gets to me. I was never quite like this. But recently my fuse is getting shorter. I swear only the presence of beni, dai wei, jeremy, bryan, musa n vicks keeps me relatively jovial and happy in school. That and the grace of God. And to be sure, it must His grace that keeps me going, because how else to explain the fact that despite the stress that's been building up over the past few months, my body refuses to fail or break down, even if I may secretly wish for it to do so and get myself a break? Compared to me my class is absolutely sickly. In fact, this is the sickliest class I've ever been in. People "fall ill" on a regular basis, or some don;t come at all because they're "sick of school". Yeah, sure, like the people who DO attend aren't sick of school.

It's rubbish you know, to hear people complain non-stop about how they can't keep up with lessons or that they don't understand. Of course you don't! How could you, when your absenteeism rate averages out to around 2 per week? And I have to put up with all this shit, and then come home to be questioned by my parents about my whereabouts. I mean, I know they're concerned, but give me a break. I'm sick to death of having to explain continually to them what MUN means, what this activity is or that. It's not like they remember anyway. Where could I be anyway? Gallivanting round Singapore? I have better things to do. And then my father tells me to stop overcommiting myself, tell the teachers I don't want to do it. Yeah sure, it'd be great if life could just stop and I could drop everything. But I can't. I've made commitments, I like what I do, and even if I don't, I can't just stop. There are others around me who are more laden with work than I am.

But of course, it's back to the same conflict. When do I stop comparing my situation to people worse off than me and start living for myself? There will always be someone poorer than you, true, but there's always someone richer than you. And one day, one fine day, I wish I could just fling out all this talk about oh, people have more stuff to do, I shouldn't complain, and get on with life. But I'm brought up this way, I have my principles. My parents would be proud, if they knew the crap I go through. I get home later than them everyday, I still have to work through essay assignments, I still pass up on time everytime, I still get respectable grades. I mean, come on, how much more can you expect from your son? There are plenty of people I know who idle their time away at home or somewhere else in school and still can't produce work on time. You know what I say to their reasons? Bullshit. Life's tough, so get on with it. Grow up, and stop whining.

By now I now I've completely contradicted my case. I've just completed what must be the longest rant/whine I've ever done on this blog. Well, I know. Judge not, lest ye be judged, how well I know that. But the steam needs to let out sometimes. So although I complain so much, at the end I know I'll just bite the bitter medicine I've just dished out and go on. What else can I do? Skip school? Dream on. I have an entire PC essay to complete, and I know that no matter how late it gets it will appear done tomorrow. So be it. That's my lot in life, I'll just have to do it, and if this post has taken up too much precious time, so be it.

On a happier note, I passed my 2.4 for the first time in JC today. Thank be to God. I'd never be able to do it without His strength. And to think about it, I'll need plenty of strength in the days to come.