Don't Worry, You're not lost. You just don't know where you are.

You

2012-02-01T07:27:00.000-08:00

I really like you. I do. Kinda makes me want to kill myself for that immediate "no" I exclaimed when someone asked me if I did.

You're smart. You're interesting. You're pretty. You're fun to be around. And even disagreeing with you makes me smile. Maybe you already know on some level, maybe you don't.

I enjoy the time I spend with you. I really do. I get awkward and quiet sometimes, but it's only because I don't want to say the wrong words and mess it all up(as it is in my nature to).

If you ever read this, I want you to know you're the smartest, the most unique, and one of the most amazing girls I've ever liked, and I wouldn't mind getting a cup of tea, some drugs or even going to a concert in the rain with you.

I've learnt a lot from you and even if it doesn't work out, I really do hope we'll be able to be friends.

That's it. One of the more sincere posts I've made. And definitely one of the more poorly written ones.

Random updates

2012-01-20T10:03:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I'd actually written something. I can't tell you how many times I've written introductions only to end up saving them as drafts(and never touching them again). I'll make it a point to finish this one.

*Takes an indefinite break - PS3 Game Heavy Rain loaded*

It's about 3 hours later and I'm done with the game. Enough adrenaline for the night. Ah, where was I? Right, the blog post. To be honest, I'm not sure how this blog post will turn out. Or if I have anything to say. Alright, I've got stuff on my mind, I just don't know how to put it out here.

The last week's been an odd one. For many reasons. For one, it was better than the others. Combined. And not because school's any better. Is really isn't. I've been through emotional hell and back I guess. I've made some good choices, and some really bad ones, but as of now, I'm not suffering from any bouts of depression. So that's kinda a plus point.

We're on talking terms(or rather, texting)now. So that's nice. Keeps me happier than I should be really. I'll probably delete this blog post once someone I know actually reads it. But till then, it'll be up here. Made a few really bad blunders with the texts, hope I don't come off too strongly. Probably did. Cue, depression.

My thoughts are scrambled here, goes to show how disorganized I am, even with my thoughts. I'm sure some people out there keep folders for their thoughts(or in some cases, boxes) - there's a folder for the job, a folder for the family and probably a folder for the homework somewhere in the basement. But I don't organize my thoughts, I let them run free. I think. What was I saying?

I'll be watching my school's rendition of Hamlet tomorrow. Let's hope it turns out well. Got a friend playing Gertrude. Absolute faith in her. Might laugh a bit. But absolute faith. As absolute as absolut vodka. I need a drink.

I'm uh, running outta things to write here, but I said I'd finish this post, so here's a little poem to end it off nicely. It's not complete yet, but what the hell.

Shoot me up, get me high, numb reality, it's worth a try.

Primary colours fill my head, I hum a tune of words unsaid.

I reach the summit, I start to fly, the magic works, I'm getting high.

I dream of places, far-off and fun, I dream of days spent under the sun.

Our eyes they meet, and then we kiss, lips locked together in utter bliss.

The colours fade, I'm all alone. I take another, I'm getting stoned.

FIN

The End

2011-12-31T06:28:00.000-08:00

The End. In two hours, 2011's coming to an end. And to be absolutely honest, I'm glad. I'm writing this post to reflect and maybe conclude something. I just don't know what I'm concluding yet.

If you thought 2011 was an amazing year, we're very different people. I've hated every moment of 2011. In 2010, I had more friends I could count on, a relatively peaceful love life(nonexistent but simple), and fairly decent grades to assure me I had a future. It wasn't a great year(great years don't exist), but it was alright.

2011. That's when the shit happened. I still have friends I can count on. Just less. A less than peaceful love life(nonexistent but complicated), and crappy grades enough to assure me I have a future begging along the streets, or ending up as a third rate clerk in some dingy office forever doomed to career stagnation. 2011 has been the bane of my existence. It has been, to date, the worst year of my life. It was the year I had to grow up and face reality. It was the year that sucked the life out of me. Fuck 2011.

I don't believe in resolutions. I don't need to make resolutions. I make wishes. They're just as unlikely to happen. And I don't need to put in a shred of effort. I have one wish for 2012. Just the one. And that's it. I want my Christmas wish to come true.

I know I'm sounding pretty damn bitter about 2011. It's because I am. Fuck 2011. And if 2012 gets worse than 2011, I'll fuck 2012 next new year's eve - assuming I'm not dead.

Moving on

2011-11-15T08:33:00.000-08:00

“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” - Neil Gaiman

I wonder if things could have turned out differently. Under better circumstances perhaps. It's taken me a lot of courage to do this, and certainly a fair amount of thought. I'm shutting myself out.

People come and go. And sometimes, in the ever changing faces of the masquerade, you lose track of people. It's a harsh reality, a cruel lie. I do this because I don't wish to get hurt. There are people out there who'll never hurt me or turn on me. They're the ones I wish to keep. Everyone else? I keep my distance. I could do with a little less pain.

They say life begins at the end of your comfort zone. That's where I'm headed. I need a life outside of all this. Let's keep things professional. Let's avoid the hurt. Let's keep work and personal life separate. I've found people who love and accept me for who I am. They get me, they make me smile. And while I may not be the best of friends, never truly being worthy of their friendship, I do treasure them, and I daresay my life would be far more miserable without them.

This isn't a farewell. We're still friends aren't we? I've finally found people I belong with. Be happy for me.

Facets Pt. 2

2011-10-10T11:17:00.000-07:00

Imagine if..

There was someone out there for you. Except not with you. But for you.

Imagine if..

There was someone out there who gets you. Except not with you. But gets you.

Imagine if..

There was someone out there who's there for you. Except not with you. But there for you.

Imagine if all these were true.

Facets Pt. 1

2011-10-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

I need to take a walk.

I don't hate leeches. It's in a leech's nature to suck onto something. They're simply born that way. I don't hate you. You were made in that way and I don't hate you for being who you are.

I don't care if you cling onto everyone, as long don't cling onto anyone that matters. Cling onto those you've already found. I'm going to let go. I'm going to forget. I'm not going to care.

I'm not going to hurt anyone by walking off, I'm not going to disgust myself by staying. I don't need anyone. I've got faith in me. That's all that matters.

They say the smartest people are the ones who feel most alone. Because nobody else can understand nor relate to them. Sometimes I feel that way. It may well be an optimistic viewpoint for the introverted, nothing more.

So spill your tears for the weak. For the sympathetic. I don't care. I never did.

I don't hate you. But I'm going to walk away.

Goals

2011-08-27T12:05:00.001-07:00

Alright. This might be me blogging with the greatest frequency. I blogged few hours ago, took a nap. And.. I'm back with this need to write again (Quality control's lost here).

I'm much happier than I was about 4 hours back. Which is good. I guess. I'm hoping this optimism and euphoria actually lasts. So I'm gonna blog while I'm still happy and jumping about(but not hurting myself).

I'm going to set goals for the holiday that's coming up in a week's time. It's a one and a half month semester holiday. It's a lot of time. I'm going to set some challenging, but rather optimistic goals(that I may not fulfill). Also, this may go onto tumblr too(which, in a moment of impulse I changed my tumblr url. It's sphyxis.tumblr.com - it took me a while to remember that. It's Greek for heartbeat, which is something we all have, but I took it for my tumblr! Nyeheheheheheh. Okay. Little lame and annoying moment over)

Goals (that I may/may not fulfill)

1. Swim at least twice a week.

2. Get a nice tan.

3. Get a job.

4. Get drunk/half drunk

5. Do that in a pub/club (for no. 4)

6. Learn to make seafood chowder

7. Bake

8. Get my 8-pack back (Hey! It rhymes!)

9. Cycle

10. Finally do a pull-up (my arms are... lacking)

11. Learn at least 30 new Photoshop effects.

12. Post something on tumblr at least once every 3 days(original submission)

13. Get 20 more followers I don't know on tumblr.

14. Campaign for a worthy cause (There's someone I know who's doing this. You know who you are, count me in!)

15. Make a short film (at least write the screenplay)

16. Write a new song (at least finish the song I've been working on for the past year and three quarters)

17. Try out ambivalence again

18. Be happy

I seriously doubt I'd clear even half of these. But hey, it's optimism for you. (I'll probably edit this post sometime and add in a few more goals and stuff)

Masks

2011-08-27T08:02:00.001-07:00

Masks. They hide us. They help us pretend. They help us lie. I need a mask. A good one anyway. Sometimes I wonder what it'll be like to be someone else for a day. Walk in someone else's shoes, see things differently. Be someone else.

I want a mask, a mask to hide.

To shield myself, to cry inside.

And whatever words I have to say.

Behind the mask, I'd lock away.

And so the world will never know,

I hurt inside, a tortured soul.

They say you can be anything you want. Anything. Anyone. You just have to want to.

I do.

Trainspotting

2011-08-24T04:30:00.000-07:00

Hello. Been a while. I'm gonna blog my heart out here. I've been using tumblr for a change lately. It's dc-ed.tumblr.com. I know, I'm very original. But hey, I like a certain level of consistency. Alright, here's a post that's probably gonna be too long for tumblr anyway, and it's gonna be an honest, down to earth post that's gonna give you an insight as to who I am. More than most of the other posts anyway. It's probably gonna sound like a sappy blog post, it's gonna sound like something some of you would want to probe, but no. I'm not open to questions for this one. I'm writing, simply to get something off my chest.

You know the feeling on being on a train? Probably do. Keep that image in mind. It's crowded. And then you see someone you really like. She's with her friends. You're with her friends. It's gets awkward. For you anyway. You talk. Not to her, but to her friends, because her friends don't know you like her. And maybe she doesn't either. It happens all the time.

I've got to stop referring to myself as "you".

Our eyes meet every now and then, I wonder if she knows. Maybe she does. Maybe not. There's a silence in the air between us. And it's all that makes it bearable. Saying something stupid would not help the moment. Her friends would judge. She would judge. And so I speak to everyone. Everyone but her. It's painful. But it's better than the alternative. And then I alight, and regret the wasted opportunity to make conversation. We do talk. When nobody else is around. It's easier that way. For me at least. And maybe for her too. There's something we share in common that probably nobody else has. There's something about her that draws me. There's something about her I like. She's not the prettiest girl around. She's clearly not the smartest. But there's something about her that draws me. There's something about her I like.

That moment in the train, those ten minutes or so. They were awkward, yes. But I cherish them. I may never have the guts to speak to her, but I'll cherish whatever I have.

And maybe we'll end up somewhere. Friends. More than that. Or maybe just platonic. But I'm fine having a platonic relationship. I'm fine that way.

And that's it. A work of fiction. For you to forget. I'm a decent writer. That much I know. And now, it's back to tumblr.

P.s: Follow me people. I heart you very much. :3 (I just had to try my hand at this)

P.p.s: There's a significance to Trainspotting. I wonder if you'll figure it out. Probably not. It's more than just a nice name about trains by the by.

P.p.p.s: This may have just been the fastest blog post I've ever written.

Let me take you down… to the food trail

2011-08-16T22:55:00.001-07:00

A friend asked me to upload another one of my articles. So here it is. A word of warning though, I doubt this article will be quite as good as the previous one. For one, it was supposed to be a human interest article, and I actually had to go out looking for actual interviewees, or rather, just the one interviewee, who was nice enough to let me ask a series of stupid questions so I could write my article. So here goes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My interviewees, Rebecca, Natasha and Phillip

(before you have any preconceived notions about them, I'll have you know that they're some of the nicest people I've ever interviewed. So let the assumption that they're really nice people be your preconceived notion instead)

Let me take you down… to the food trail

Let me take you down… to strawberry fields. I’m kidding. That’s just a Beatles song from the sixties. Speaking of the sixties though, why not take a trip down memory lane instead? Set against the backdrop of the iconic Singapore Flyer, the Singapore Food Trail takes a somewhat less modern approach with its design. Modeled after the swinging sixties, the Singapore Food Trail is made up of more than just a few stalls and pushcarts; it’s made of memories, local memories.

Rustic stall and wooden pushcarts line the tarmac street, displaying a wide variety of local delights which include simple fare like Hokkien Mee and Nasi Lemak to the slightly more exotic barbequed stingray. The smell of simple street cooking is almost intoxicating as you make your way down the Singapore Food Trail. Feeling hungry anyone?

While this may seem like the ideal tourist attraction for visiting foreigners, the Singapore Food Trail appeals to locals in a different way. In fact, many locals still visit the Singapore Food Trail for the memories it brings. I met Rebecca on a Saturday afternoon at the food trail having lunch with her husband and their daughter. The family of three had just taken a ride on the Singapore Flyer and had decided to give the food trail a try. “It reminds me of my childhood” said Rebecca “I wanted to show my daughter how Singapore was like when I was growing up.”

For Singaporeans like Rebecca who grew up in the 60s and 70s, the Singapore Food Trail gives out a certain nostalgic appeal with its rustic setting and street dining concept. “The wooden furniture on the road they’ve made really reminds me of my childhood.” said Rebecca in a moment of recollection. “However,” she added “it doesn’t feel the same without the sound of hawkers touting. It’s better now, but it doesn’t feel the same. It’s a little quiet.”

Being at the food trail, I had to ask about the food (the food trail without food would be called the trail, which doesn’t sound quite as interesting). The family of three had ordered the Nasi Lemak from Selera’s Adam Road Nasi Lemak and had found it (to my surprise) “especially good.” They also praised the Coconut Chendol and the Cheng Tng, which, despite being not especially sweet, provided generous servings.

Like any reasonable Singaporean, you’re bound to wonder “How much must I pay?” While the overall prices at the food trail are pricey enough to make the average “kiasu” Singaporean balk and turn away for cheaper food alternatives, this is probably attributed to the high rentals the hawkers have to pay. Besides, most of the patrons who visit the Food Trail are there for the unique dining experience rather than the food. By simply forking out those few extra dollars, one gets to enjoy a memorable dining experience in the past without having to build a time machine. “We’re here for the ambience and the memories rather than the food.” said Rebecca “And besides, while the food is pricier than the average food court, it’s also better.”

The Singapore Food Trail may be the first of many additions to Singapore’s name as a food paradise, but if you ask someone who grew up in the 60s like Rebecca “Nothing can beat the original taste of the 60s”. But for those out there looking for somewhere live out, or rather, eat out the past, there’s no better place to do that than the Singapore Food Trail. And to put it in Rebecca’s own words, “If anyone wants a moment of nostalgia, this is one place I’d definitely recommend.”

605 words (excluding headline)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Politics in Singapore

2011-08-12T11:30:00.001-07:00

Hello, I'm going to post another wordy post. Except this one's been pre-written some three months ago? It's a feature article I wrote for an assignment, and like any other form of writing written by me, it has my own little touch(okay, not touch like literally, it's got my own little style and snarky bits). Have fun!

Face the facts: Election's going on Facebook (and other social media sites)

Speeches, promises and two million voters; let’s talk politics. With the recent General Elections just over, we can all heave a sigh of relief that the world has gone back to normal. We no longer have to wake up to the sound of lorries bearing advertorial messages for our local political candidates as they descend the street. Truth to be told though, there’s still a part of me that misses the elections.

The recent elections generated quite a buzz on the internet, with discussions ranging from social issues such as housing and transport to which political candidate had the nicest Kate Spade bag. For the first time in my life, I actually saw people I knew actively taking an interest in politics, a boring topic if not for the general elections. And for the first time, my newsfeed on Facebook was no longer an endless stream of “Farmville notifications”, it was more than that, it was an arena for political discussion.

Facebook has been quite the happening place for the last few years, more so in Singapore during the recent elections. During the General Elections this year, fan pages of local political candidates have sprung up on Facebook, gaining the following of many. Facebook has also contributed to some rather uncalled for but nevertheless popular fan pages poking fun at local political candidates, Tin Pei Ling being the butt of many jokes. Through Facebook, even Returning Officers like Mr. Yam Ah Mee were not spared. Mr. Yam shot to fame overnight after his rather monotonous and expressionless rendition of the 2011 General Election results. While Mr. Yam might not have appreciated the online buzz about him, I certainly did. His voice was perhaps the only thing that kept me awake as I stayed up waiting for the General Election results.

Twitter was yet another hip and happening place during the recent General Elections. And while the usual “I am doing something interesting right now” tweets were still present, I was pleasantly surprised by the sheer number of political tweets as the polling date drew closer. I had friends providing me updates on the latest rallies, how good the speakers were and of course, the occasional entertaining quip about which political candidate needed a wig.

In contrast with previous elections, where the majority of the election hype seemed to be offline, the bulk of this election’s political hype seemed concentrated on social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter, battlegrounds where heated political debates seemed to take place on a daily basis. And despite these debates being online, they were every bit as engaging and (sometimes) violent as the ones in reality. I learnt my lesson after being shouted down, or more accurately, flamed, for posting a snide comment on a local politician. All jokes aside however, I did learn quite a lot from these debates and I daresay I am quite the authority on local politics now.

An observation I noted on Facebook was that the number of pro-opposition supporters seemed to outnumber the pro-PAP supporters by a wide margin. And these pro-opposition supporters were far from shy on expressing their views on the PAP, openly proclaiming their support for opposition candidates and hurling the occasional expletive at the PAP. Either that’s the way most Singaporean youths feel, or I need to start making new friends.

Bringing this to an end, I would like to say that I am grateful for the internet, especially for sites such as Facebook and Twitter. And I daresay the hype generated from these sites was the main reason I kept up with the elections. I do hope the next election brings about just as much hype and entertainment online as this one did; otherwise, I’d have to consider spoiling my vote.

627 words(the word count was necessary for the assignment)

Bad Bloggers - A Passing Thought

2011-08-11T18:23:00.001-07:00

Hello again, if you're reading this blog, it's probably because I told you to. Or someone I know told you to(which is unlikely)or if you're a stranger randomly browsing blogs(which is next to impossible).

Passing thought: Why is it that people enjoy reading blogs with bad English?

For those of you who can't read because the words are too tiny, it reads(I'm going to analyse this little excerpt):

"You were able to go until so far and cruel to me, and if you love me, you won't. Is it because we had no status for the pass one month plus?"

Grammatical Errors.(okay, I googled the definition of grammatical error first, so I should be right. Otherwise, it's google's fault)
*tsk*
Tenses. Perhaps the sentence could have been rephrased.
"If you loved me, you wouldn't have been so cruel to me."

See? Shorter, neater, and it gets to the point.
The second bit is something I can't understand, but past is spelt with a T.

"I had cried hard enough, whined loud enough, and being hurt pain enough. Yet what else I can do, when you doesn't seems to be holding back at all?"

Again. Grammar. If you wanted to write a book on "How-not-to-blog", this would be your perfect example. Also "being hurt pain enough"? The word "pain" is redundant, because I was under the impression that feeling hurt was an unpleasant and painful process.

"Y'know, you can't just force all the blames on me because I'm not the only one whose at fault."

Now we be talkin gangsta' y'all. Basic' grammar yo? Yo, homie, "who's" is spelt with an apostrophe.

"You say you got your limits, then I don't? You are human, am I not? You say that I'm being ridiculous for not being understanding and assumed you."

The first sentence. How very.. Singaporean. It's very.. common, ordinary, uninteresting. It then goes on to "You are human, am I not?" Tis' very Shakespeare, no?

Yet you lied to me and you expected me to trust you with your lies again and again? Sigh. You'll never get your facts right. You just keep lying and lying, knowing that I'll be stupid enough to listen."

I grow tired of reading. It's whiny, boring, grammatically incorrect, and quite frankly, one of the better written blogs I've seen around. The typical one doesn't explore the use of Shakespearean language. This blog is.. surprisingly impressive. I should have used a better example.

I'm a grammar Nazi. Hate me. The biggest irony would be me making a grammatical mistake after taking the time to bash another blog. But go ahead, judge me. The Bible says "Do to others as you would have them do to you."

I judge you, so you can judge me.

Paper Cranes

2011-08-01T06:47:00.000-07:00

The Japanese believe that if you fold a thousand cranes, your wish will come true.

I'll fold a thousand paper cranes. I'll keep them in a box.

Each crane a wish from my heart. A box of secrets with a lock.

And maybe someday I'll give the box away, a thousand wishes, just for you.

And maybe then you'll realise that my only wish was you.

Make a wish upon a star and pray that it'll come true.

Make a wish with all your heart and hold it close to you.

Work. Eat. Work. Repeat.

2011-07-11T09:37:00.000-07:00

... ... ...

Get up. Work. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat.

Get up. Work. Eat. Work. Lose Sleep. Repeat.

Aw fuck.

That's my life as it is. Life is a disease sexually transmitted and invariably fatal. It almost makes you thankful there are some people in the world too stupid or ugly to pass it on.

"You're cruel, you're mean!" I hear you scream.
Give me a break, I'm blowing off steam.

That rhymes. I like rhymes.

Dr. Seuss with a twist. Except if he actually twisted, he'd regret every second afterwards.

Life sucks. I'm going to rant. Watch out. Leave. Judge me. I don't care. At all.

Lifesuckswhenitsnotfairwhennothingevergoesyourwaywhenopportunityknocksonlytoprankyou.
Lifesuckswhenyouworkyourassoffbutgetnoresultswhenyoustayupeachnightonlytoendupfailing.
Lifesuckswhenincompetentpeoplegetthecreditwhenyourethesmartonebutmaybeitsbecauseyouthinkyourethe smartone.
Lifesuckswhenyoureallalonewithamountainofhateandpressurebuildingupandcrushingyoudownwheneveryassignmentdemandsyourverybest.
Lifesuckswhenpeopletrytocontrolyoutellyouwhattodoputideasinyourheadclaimtohelpyou.
Lifesuckswhenyouloseandarenotthebestbecauselosingsucksandsecondbestisnothing.

Life sucks. Welcome to Delirium and The Strange House.

Receptionist: Can I have a name?"

Delirium: "Don't you have one? ... If you don't have a name, what do people call you? I mean, do they just wave and smile, or jingle little silver bells or what?"

The receptionist and Delirium, in SANDMAN #43: "Brief Lives:

Alright. This wasn't the post I set out to write. But it turned out fine enough. And for those of you've been reading this blog regularly, you'll notice the style is weird, different, whatever, even for me. It's almost tumblr-ish(which, by the way, I'm considering using as a blog, I might alternate posts between the two, who knows?), or even weird for a tumblr. I'll leave it at that.

... ... ...

Switch off. Fitful sleep. Wake up. Work. Eat. Work. Repeat.

Change

2011-06-17T23:41:00.001-07:00

Hullo to you out there. This blog isn't dead. I just haven't been blogging for quite a while. Or rather, I haven't been posting. I have tons of drafts from times I actually wanted to write something but gave up halfway. If you were expecting something mean and sarcastic in this post, maybe you should wait for the next one. This post is going to be somewhat less sarcastic, a little less lighthearted and very philosophical. I'm going to talk about change.

Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine. The only change I actually like is the kind that jingles in my pocket. People are like little everyday items. You lose some of them, never to get them back again, and some you keep, you treasure, and you remember for life.

There's only enough room on your shelf for some of these people. Eventually, you'll have to let go of some, lose some, forget some and move on. Sometimes they break, they hurt you, but you've got to clean up the wound and move on. Think of your friends as bands. They come and go, you lose interest in some of them or they simply dissappoint you and you learn move on. Likewise, there are bands that become memorable enough to make it onto the shelf, the top list. And every now and then, you'll play one of their songs and smile, simply because you love them.

I've long since come to terms with the fact that friendships, like flowers, bloom and eventually wilt. Every now and then you'll find a flower or two to preserve, to keep, but the rest? They simply wither and fade away.

It's not a matter of quantity, it's a matter of quality. I have over 300 acquaintances I can loosely refer to as friends. I have less than 10 people I consider friends. If you're in the other 290, it doesn't mean I don't care. It simply means I wouldn't get hurt even if you left.

Alright, I know I use an incessant amount of metaphors. I love metaphors. They let me get creative with words(I make them up) - they make me sound smart.

Lately I have become ambivalent, or at least more so than before. In my social life, that is. I've stopped making space on my shelf, stopped preserving flowers. I've stopped searching for missing things too. I don't know why, but there's probably a part of me that thinks that closing myself to the world would somehow help me get closure. I don't know, and I simply don't care.

Some friends are like hitchhikers, they get in, they talk, you have a fun trip, and then you part ways and they get off to find another car. Chances are, you don't see them again.

Or maybe those friends are like one night stands, you get drunk, have sex, and when the morning comes, you go your separate ways with a bad hangover that numbs all emotion.

I could give a million more metaphors(that's an exaggeration but 20 more would be possible), but they're all just saying the same thing: "Change happens, friends come and go." That, and move on.

I don't like change, but I accept change. I just hope the next time change comes my way, it'll be in the form of fat gold coins.

Listen.

2011-05-09T03:06:00.000-07:00

The following post will probably be oddly uncharacteristic of me. I'm known for my biting sarcasm and sheer bluntness. I'm pragmatic, a little ruthless, arrogant and possibly even a little cold hearted. I'm not exactly painting the prettiest image of myself, but that's the truth for you.

Despite my rather unflattering descriptions(this might shock some of you), I'm not a bad person(are you shocked?). I'm no saint either(does this reassure you now?). This much I'm willing to admit. I'm a bad person trying to be good. I have a heart of gold. It's just that I probably dug it out and sold it. And now, I'm trying to get it back(Laugh, goddammit. It's a joke.).

I may not have the most redeeming of qualities, but here's something I'm actually good at. (Again, this might surprise those of you who know me for my rather unflattering qualities) I'm actually pretty good at listening.

No. Listening to metal bands like Slipknot haven't turned me deaf. Not yet anyway.

And it's not just the miming of the occassional nod and "mmhmm". I actually listen. Alright. Most guys find it a chore to listen, and believe me, it's for good reason. I'm relatively different. I'd listen as long as you don't break into a prolonged self-centred rant, which by the way, I find extremely annoying. But that's probably not just exclusive to me.

On the topic of listening, believe it or not. I can keep my sarcasm on a leash. It's painful, yes, but not nigh impossible. I won't bash a person with a sarcastic remark if I know he/she will end up shattering into a million pieces. There are people who walk around with invisible signs that read "Fragile, handle with care".

I may not be the nicest person around, but I have my limits. And maybe, in some way, its a nice thing. I'm not the worst guy around.

And I may not say this often but..

Alright. Let's jump to the reasons why I don't say what I rarely say often(take a minute or two to process that)

Here's why I don't say what I rarely say.

1. Nobody listens to me when I talk.

2. Because point 1 is usually full of nonsense(and sarcastic remarks)

3. Point 2 is usually almost always right.

And here's what I don't say often. I treasure whatever friends I have. And it's true. I know many people(and many people probably know me), but I don't have many friends. 300 Facebook friends means nothing to me. Which is why, if I consider you a friend, you'll be treasured. Unexpected but true. And if there's anything I can be certain of regarding that matter, I'd say that my life would be a lot more miserable without my friends.

So, to people who barely know me but read this anyway. I'd be happy to listen to you as long as you don't abuse that privilege.

And to my friends, if you need a friend(okay, it's cliched and I've already stated that this is to my friends, but whatever, i like the line.), I'll be there, and if you need a listening ear, feel free to use my "metal-deafened" one.

And perhaps, someday, someone will describe me with the line "And the sole redeeming feature, of that particular creature, is that he listens." (not the best word to use, it but you know what I mean.)

Masquerades and Mirrors

2011-04-28T08:03:00.000-07:00

Pretending. We do that. It's in our nature to. We wear masks, we dance, we play our litte charade. But deep down, we're all the same. Pretenders, that's what we are.

"Masquerade, pretty faces on display. Masquerade. Hide your face, so the world will never find you." A line from the musical Phantom of the Opera. It's quite apt really. We all put on masks. It's become a routine, a habit. And it weighs us down. We just become so used to it that it really doesn't matter.

We're like mirrors.

"Mirrors are wonderful things. They appear to tell the truth, to reflect life back out at us; but set a mirror correctly and it will lie so convincingly you'll believe that something has vanished into thin air, that a box filled with doves and flags and spiders is actually empty, that people hidden in the wings or the pit are actually floating ghosts upon the stage. Angle it right and a mirror becomes a magic casement; it can show you anything you can imagine and maybe a few things you can't." - Neil Gaiman, Smoke and Mirrors

That sums it up, doesn't it?

Norwegian Wood

2011-04-23T08:37:00.001-07:00

I'm a little saner now, less.. troubled so as to speak. Norwegian Wood plays softly on repeat in the back of my head. It's a good song. I've just gotten home from a movie. Norwegian Wood(which would explain why the song's in my head). It occurs to me that this might be the first time I'm reviewing a movie. Remember now, it's just my take on the movie and not the only opinion out there. So don't be upset if you disagree(That's a bit much to ask. You'd feel upset if you disagree. Can't have one without the other)and don't take the upset out on me. Thanks

Norwegian Wood's an emotional film with quite a bit of sex. Beyond that, it's a story about moving on and coping with death(though sex as a means to that end isn't always a good idea). On the whole, the movie wasn't bad. It wasn't outstanding either. Having never read the book, I wouldn't know how closely the film followed the book. But from my POV, the film felt rushed, even for a 2-hour film. Characters weren't fully developed and their motives were sometimes unclear. I might have enjoyed the film better if they played Norwegian Wood more than twice in the film though. I'm a sucker for the song.

If you do have 2-hours and 10 dollars to spare, feel free to watch Norwegian Wood while it's still in Theatres. Don't write it off your list, it's not a bad film. Just don't expect The Black Swan or The King's Speech when you go in. And oh, if you're below 18 and don't look 18, one word. Torrent.

Just a mood check in..

2011-04-20T05:45:00.000-07:00

I'm blogging again. It's a mood check in. I need an outlet. A good one. I'd say I'm currently feeling awkward and to be honest, a little lost(I've never been good at directions, but this is a totally different matter).

I hated ambivalence. But a longing and a dead end doesn't make things any better does it? It's kind of amusing(in a sick way perhaps)how you lose your wits whenever you talk to certain people. You plan conversations in your head, and when it comes to the actual conversation. You blubber. Awkwardly in fact. Words become halting. And frankly speaking, you become annoying.

I have a flair for being annoying. It's a talent. I'm great at it. Usually it's on purpose. My flair tends to get a tad bit annoying when it starts becoming accidental. Three words, fuck my life.

Alright. This is just a mood check in. I found an outlet, I'm using it now. No need to get worried. No need to care. And don't ask me. It's just one of my down moments. Life's full of ups and downs. Just that I'd prefer the ups to actually last. But hey, happiness is a capricious thing, no?

Signing off,

Daniel.

Making Up

2011-04-19T10:12:00.001-07:00

Alright. I know what the title says. Making up. I'm not writing anything about cosmetics though. This post is to make up for the lackluster previous post, though I'm pretty certain barely anybody ever comes here. Maybe I should make this blog public(it's never been private I guess. I just never advertised it)With all the nasty posts from way back? It might turn a few people suicidal. Who knows?

The last post was.. well. Terrible. It's one of those stupid things you do in the moment because it seemed like the fun thing to do then. If there was a post I hate and regret, that's the one. I do have standards when I blog. I really do(again, barely anybody reads this blog so.. standards, really?)

This might be one of the few blog posts I where I actually blog in the moment. It's about 1 in the morning. I'm awake. Felt the urge to blog something really. I'm lying on my bed, and in the background, the air-conditioner breathes, loudly. Not that I'm complaining. With the weather these days, the air conditioner's a godsend. Sunny Island, I'd say. Sometimes, I swear, Singapore needs to chill out and be cool.

In between this paragraph and the previous one, I took a short break from blogging. Did 70 sit ups or so. Just felt like it. I'm guessing this in the moment thing just happens every now and then. Either that, or it simply means I've got a rather short attention span. Which isn't a good thing for me considering my many other flaws, one of them being an incessant need to make a sarcastic or snide remark every now and then. Fittingly, a good friend of mine chose a rather apt birthday card for me. One the front of the card, it wrote "National Sarcasm Society(N.S.S.)" A smaller text below that were the words "Like we need your support". Thanks Cass!(That's only if "Cass" reads this blog, which I'm fairly certain she won't. Till I remind her to anyway.)

Reaching the fifth paragraph, I realise that this post lacks a little standard. For what it's worth though, it's interesting and maybe even a little fun to blog the way a traditional blogger does - in the moment, about the moment.

To the small handful of people who actually read this blog(or at least I hope they still do, without me shamelessly telling them to),don't worry, I doubt writing "in the moment, about the moment" will be a regular occurance. So you'll get your relatively regular sarcastic posts from yours truly.

Faithfully, Truthfully, Sarcastically, Egoistically, and with an appropriate amount of love,

Daniel

19th April 2011

2011-04-19T03:27:00.000-07:00

I don't usually title my posts with dates. I'm doing that today. Another thing I don't do is post about the day. I'll try that today. It's going to be a short and rather unimpressive post. Enjoy.

It's the 19th of April today. It's been a year, exactly 365 days, since I first started school at Singapore Polytechnic. I've survived a year. Yay me.

Quite a bit's happened since then. Once again, I've made new friends, lost some friends, made some enemies too(you don't see it, but there's a whole load of people who'd love to stick a knife into my back or hack me into little bits.I'm serious.And maybe a little paranoid).The friends I have now, I hope to keep, the enemies I have, I hope they weep.

I guess surviving a year is quite a feat despite having people who don't like me. So I guess here's to surviving another year!

A fitting song to end this.

The Drinking Song - Jason Webley

When the glass is full
drink up, drink up
this may be the last time we see this cup.
If God wanted us sober
he'd knock the glass over
so while it is full
we drink up.

My name is Daniel, what's yours?

2011-04-06T06:31:00.001-07:00

Another day, another update. I've been blogging for over two years now and I've never ever written anything about myself. *checks* Alright. I have. Scratch that. I haven't actually introduced myself. Here goes then..

My name is Daniel. It's a common name. I'd know. Go down the street and call Daniel and you'd probably have a few heads turning. I'm currently 18. Which means I was born in 1993(okay, it doesn't necessarily mean that. But I was born in 1993 and that's that.)In 1993, the name Daniel was 7th most popular on the list of baby names in the USA. 1.388% of male babies born in 1993 were named Daniel. Also, the name Daniel actually has a meaning. It's not just any dumb name like.. Bob(no offense if you're a Bob. It does have a meaning actually. It's British currency.)Daniel means "God is my judge". It means God judges me. Bit like what the Americans use to describe their country, "One nation under God". Some meaning really. They should probably just change it to "Daniel". It's just good sense really.

Alright. I've just spent a whole paragraph on my name. This would be a clear indicator of my huge ego.. and lack of shame. And just like any guy with a huge ego, we bruise like peaches(girls, if you're tired of living, feel free to bruise any guy's ego). Admission of that shows that I'm quite open and straighforward. It does little to help the lack of shame though. I'll cut this paragraph short and give you the gist of what the paragraph should be about. Daniel is egoistic and shameless. Period. He is also rather open, but that's really secondary.

In my spare time, when I'm not inflating my ego or being shameless(which leaves little time to spare, it's pretty much a full-time job thing)I take on something called a hobby(or hobbies just in case you feel like contradicting me later when I mention more than one hobby). As I was saying, my hobbies, and they are in the plural form, include typical guy stuff like video games, a little exercise here and there(by that, I mean actually jogging and not moving the mouse or typing on the keyboards)and eating(for those of you who've seen me, I look really really thin. I can't speak for the future, but for now, I'm positively skeletal). I'm also a movie buff and a terrible musician.

Alright, you now know my name, a bit about me and a few of my hobbies(that, and a load of other crap). That leaves.. personality I guess? My personality's really debatable. It all boils down to who you ask. Most people would say I'm sarcastic. Or bitchy(apparently bitchy covers sarcasm too. Whatever works I guess). Some people would say I'm psychotic, noisy and really random(and neurotic too, but that's just a fancy way to say crazy). Others would say I'm odd, quiet, and brooding. Neither group is wrong really. It just boils down to how well you know me(and vice versa.)

But what do I think of myself? That's for me to know, and for you to find out. Right now, my name is Daniel. What's your name?

Requiem for a GPA

2011-03-21T09:34:00.000-07:00

Let's set a scene. Think dramatic. Slow strings are playing to a melancholy tune. The tune speaks of sorrow. There's a little bit of pain there. Think of black drapes; a coffin; a little match, flame still flickering. You see a piece of paper. It makes contact with the match. A flame grows. The paper blackens, twists, and fades into ashes and dust. That's my GPA.

If Failure is the Mother of Success, then "Success" is one son of a bitch. I don't like failure. Then again, nobody does. I've seen my GPA. I'm now dejected, pessimistic and getting better at coming up with descriptions. My GPA sucks. Period.

My GPA fell like an anvil. And then it crushed me.

My GPA, my Pandora's box; I opened the email and bad things came out. Still, it's nice to know there's still some hope left.

Alright. I'm gonna stop the whining here. Requiem's over. My GPA can burn.

A little something I got from a game I'm currently playing:

"There's this fantastic thing called "moving on." You should try it sometime." - Isabela, Dragon Age II.

That's what I'm gonna do.

A few more lines to cheer me up(possibly deluding myself)

"Every cloud has a sliver lining." Cliched, but it's comforting to hear.

"If you fall and don't pick yourself up, you'd have fallen for nothing." That's pretty true.

"Daniel is really really smart. It's just that sometimes, bad things happen to good people." A personal favourite. Cheers me up to no end.

Alright. I'm feeling a whole lot better now.

Ciao.

A Rush of Emotion

2011-03-20T02:02:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've written something down. I'm not gonna bitch here. Just not today. Sorry if anyone wanted to read something bitchy.

I'm no longer ambivalent. It's reassuring.. I guess. I guess it's about time I found myself feeling attracted to someone. No names here. It's an attraction, not a crush. Still, it's reassuring to know I'm not turning gay.

This brings forth the question "What kind of girl do you like?" Something a friend of mine asks me every now and then(you know who you are smalleyes). Off the top of my head? Eyeliner. Thick black eyeliner. A nice nose too. A nice nose enhances a face. Alright. It's odd. I know. Just something I happen to look out for.

I'm not that shallow though. Or at least I don't think I am(if you dispute this, shush. I don't like to be contradicted). Personality wise? Someone unique. Relatively intelligent. Likes reading. A decent command of the English language(that's actually more important than you'd think. I'm quite the grammar nazi). Relatively sane. Appreciates good music(not the 4 chord country nonsense you hear on the radio). Musically inclined(not too much to ask for right?), appreciates good film(which rules out typical chick flicks or movies with names like "Deuce Bigalow, European Gigolo")and gothic(or at least tolerant of gothic culture). I'm not exactly a cheery person am I?

Not sure if there's anyone out there that fits that description, but hey, that's pretty much perfection in my head. Might have left out a few details here and there, but that's pretty much it.

Alright. I'm gonna end off here. It's been.. nice having a little bit of emotion for the first time in a long while. And it's definitely been fun to write something(as boring as I may sound)after a month of absence.

P.s.: Song of the Month: "Here, there and everywhere" by the Beatles. If you haven't heard it yet. Check it out. Beats most of the mainstream crap you probably listen to anyway.

P.p.s: If you have any tips on how to ask a girl out, drop me a message. I could always use an extra reason to repel women.

Here's to Eighteen

2011-02-20T06:58:00.000-08:00

"You won't be Seventeen forever". Metro Station's stating the obvious.
It's almost midnight. I'm almost 18. Brilliant. In an hour's time, I'll be 18. I feel grown up.

This is the last post before I turn 18. As I type the little characters, I've no idea how this post will end. I also have no idea if I'll finish this post.

Quite a bit's happened over the past year. I've had the time to make some new friends, lose some new friends, see some old friends, leave some old memories behind. I don't know if I'm happy now, but I sure as hell want to be.

It's pretty much a new era in my life. I get to drive, I get to drink. I'll also probably get to go to jail too, for doing both of the above at the same time.

I'll probably end this off here. As I have nothing I want to say, or think I want to say. Here's to being 18, here's to success, here's to happiness.

Ambivalence

2011-02-18T01:24:00.000-08:00

Happy. That's what I wanna be when I grow up. Let's hope this wish comes true.

An absence of pain doesn't make you happy. It makes you a robot. That's how I've been feeling like lately.

It's been goodness knows how long since I've liked someone and far longer since I've had a relationship. Really makes me wonder sometimes; makes me wonder what's wrong with me; or what's right with me for that matter.

I thought I'd like ambivalence. A bit of tranquility. Now? I'm pretty much tranquil to the point that I could describe myself with the term "tranquilized". And while people do encourage me here and there(thanks guys, really), it's a bit hard to feel any better, or feel to anything. Quoting Chandler M. Bing "That makes me feel so warm inside my hollow tin chest!". The quote's quite apt really.

Sometimes I wonder if there's a gargoyle wrapped around my heart. Shielding it from the all the pain. A layer of impregnable stone around my beating heart. Recognise the reference? You've probably read Neil Gaiman's Smoke and Mirrors. Don't recognise it? It's about time you started reading.

I'm going to end it off here. No bitching. Gotta get back to hitting the books(probably literally once the stress level builds up)and if I don't turn up for the exam next Thursday, ambivalence probably killed me.

You've got mail, hate mail.

2011-01-27T08:45:00.000-08:00

Dear groupofpeopleidontreallylike,

I don’t want to sound cruel. I don’t want to sound judgmental. I don’t want to hurt anyone. But there’s only so much I can take. You suck. You all do. If there was a painting to reflect my mood right now, it’ll be black.

If I ever thought I’d ever see you change, it would have been a mistake, one clearly against my better judgment. I told myself to give chances; everyone deserves the chance to turn over a new leaf. I don’t think you’re a part of everyone. You’d be an insult to everyone (or anyone for that matter). Plus, the leaf only has enough space for some of your crap, not all of your crap. If have one leaf gave you two chances to change, you’d probably need a forest.

"I wonder who's genuine and who's not."

A little something you'd probably say. Hypocrisy at its finest. It's not something I'd say though. I don't need to wonder. I know. But don't worry if you still need to wonder, I know how you can find the answer: look into a *mirror.

I'm selfish. In a sense, I'm cruel as well. Cruel for not letting you leech off me. If you hate me, don't depend on me. Fend for yourselves - learn the value of hard work. Earn your place. If you can't. Do the world a favour and shut the hell up.

Another thing. If you have a mouth, please use it well. Don't use it the same way you use your brain. There's still some hope for your mouth. Save it.

You'd probably think me harsh. But really, am I that harsh? Next to you, I'm Mother Theresa. It's got nothing to do with me being good. I'm not a good person. You? You're rotten.

This post isn't all bad really. I've got to commend you on getting what? 10 people to dislike/hate me? Congratulations. Kudos to you. Thats quite a feat really. Shame I didn't feel the impact. I apologize, I'm really not high and mighty or anything. You're just a little...insignificant. Keep up the good work.

You started this fire. You put it out. Otherwise, I'm gonna stand there and watch you burn, but that's alright because I like the way it hurts. Clearly I can quote(and tweak)song lyrics too.

I'd like to end it here. To be entirely honest with you, I could go on and on about you. But I won't. Thinking about you bores me. I'll leave it here. Now go stand in a corner and think about what you've done. Ciao.

Truthfully,

Daniel

*You'll only get your answer if you don't die of shock after looking into the mirror.

Bitch, Pur-lease

2011-01-17T08:08:00.000-08:00

[ Warning, Irrational Person Ranting About Irrational Person. Not For The Sensitive or Faint of Heart ]

I don't like taking sides. I don't like watching this little game go on. I was sitting on the fence. You pushed me off the edge. I don't dislike you. I hate you.

I bear grudges. This post isn't for your benefit, or anyone's for that matter. This post is to help me remember - remember how I once knew someone with about as many brain cells as there are snowmen in the desert. To help me remember you and all the nonsense you did. I want to remember to keep you at a distance. I want to make a mental note to never put my trust in you. I'd pay a court to grant me a restraining order if I could. I don't need you. I certainly don't want you.

Bitch pur-lease. Do me a favour and stop your nonsense. I mean, you're not even doing it properly. There's a saying "If you want a job well done, do it yourself". In your case, I'd probably advise hiring someone to help you do your job, because really, you're not very good at it.

If you want to tell a lie, please do it properly. You're clearly a disgrace to all the liars out there. You already broke the first rule of lying. It states that liars should have good memories. I'd like to say you've been blessed with amazing memory skills but I'd be lying. If you listen carefully, you'd hear a million liars screaming out your name, praising your efforts, they'd be lying too. The second rule about lying, don't contradict. That one's pretty easy. Shame you failed that one too. Oops.

Alright. I'm not being fair to you. Maybe you're not good at lying. I mean, lying's pretty damned difficult. Maybe verbal abuse is more of your...forte? I mean, if you want to be a bitch, you've got to be good at dishing it out right? My apologies. I keep forgetting. It's YOU we're talking about. The truth hurts. Here's some for you. You're not that good at dishing it out really. You might want to take some lessons from me. I'm not great, but hell, I'm probably better than you. So far, Ive spent almost four whole paragraphs dishing it out. I've also made it pretty clear I hate you. Here's the best bit, I didn't use a single vulgarity to dish it out. And no, the word "bitch" doesn't count. It's not a vulgarity. It's a noun. It's for you.

Your motivations aren't even clear. Why you do this is clearly beyond me. You're clearly not cut out for this.

If you're doing this for fun, you're weird, stupid and kind of a sadistic freak. If you're doing this for revenge, you're delusional, psychotic and seriously in need of therapy. If you're doing this to somehow gain acceptance, or to threaten your way back into a group of people you just dissed off... you're just shutting yourself out. Everyone has the right to be stupid, you're abusing the privilege.

Your erratic behaviour baffles me. You get mad when someone doesn't entertain you. You lash out at a person only to end up apologising that very night for all the wrong reasons. You're bipolar. You're strange. I don't like to say this, but maybe someone should put you down.

I read a little post by you yesterday. It amused me. Thank you for making me laugh - for all the wrong reasons. I don't know if you meant it. I don't really care. It went somewhere along the lines of "my contribution to the group was probably its only saving grace...they replaced me with someone else". If it's not what you wrote, don't worry. I took the liberty of improving on the language. If you were that good,you'd be irreplaceble. You're living in your own little fantasy aren't you? Have fun there, don't wake up, reality's got a rude shock waiting for you.

I'm really sorry it had to come to this. The next time you wish to allocate blame, think twice(if it's not too much for your brain to process)and look in the mirror. It's not hard to think. Make an effort.

Stop your little game now, you won't get what you want. What I can give you is this, I do have are a very particular set of skills; skills I have acquired over a very long time. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you give up now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will hurt you.

Piss me off and I'll piss on you.

2011-01-09T09:25:00.000-08:00

I need a time out. Whatever.

This is probably the first time I'm actually blogging while pissed. Frankly speaking, I don't give a damn if anybody sees this. I need an outlet to vent.

I get irritated pretty easily. I don't get pissed often. There's a big difference between the two. Irritated means I think you're trash but I'll tolerate your crap. Pissed means I think trash is too good a word for you and despite my rather wide vocabulary, I can't find a word to describe how much I actually loathe you. That's usually when I start getting really tempted to hit you or give you an especially sarcastic remark.

There are many things I don't like. If I'm half as pissed tomorrow as I am right now, a whole group of people had better watch out. If a group of monkeys cheer at a cold joke tomorrow(or tell a cold joke then cheer about it), if a boulder walks in front of me, if a bunch of circus freaks run around screaming, if a bunch of morons jabber away in a foreign tongue, if a bald man tries to make a snide remark or if I see another hamster on steroids, someone might just get hurt.

I'll be clear on this, while I'm normally reasonable and rational, don't cross the line. There's a fine line between tolerated and hated.

To put it simply:

Don't drive me up the wall. Don't push me over the edge.
Don't do both and drive me up the wall and over the edge.

To end this post, I do have one rule worth noting. It's short, sweet and easy to remember.

"Don't fuck with me."

Put-Em-Rights

2011-01-03T04:05:00.000-08:00

Read a book by Enid Blyton, "The Put-Em-Rights". It was a nice book, very Blyton. It painted a merry picture of people who right wrongs, correct people of their errors, and pretty much act like real little angels.

I like good people, most good people are good, that's why they're called good people. They help you when you need them to, they take the blame for you(makes you guilty here and there),help you with little things, and pretty much do things to make life really pleasant for everyone. I salute these people.

Put-Em-Rights are good people too, don't get me wrong. They're just good people with another level. I don't like extra levels, extra levels are tough. Put-Em-Rights see a problem, shake their heads disapprovingly, tsk and tut a few times, then attempt to solve the problem. Two words, "Fuck off".

I like good people. Good people who try to make me good, I don't like. I can be good on my own, I don't need your help, thank you very much. Correcting me won't make you a saint, but it will get you one step closer to being a killjoy. You might end up with someone's knuckles in your face too.

Be smart. You want something changed, do it. I'm all for the changing people bit. Just do it smart. You have a brain. Use it. Otherwise, donate it to someone who actually needs it. Need a solution? For starters, shut up. Actions speak louder than words. Be good. Be nice. I might like what I see. I might follow suit. Talk more, I'd think of a thousand ways to shut you up, and believe me, thinking of a thousand ways is a hell lot more entertaining than listening to you rant.

To the good people out there: I love you, I salute you, keep it up.

To the Put-Em-Rights out there: NIL

I'm not dead. Not yet anyway.

2010-08-20T06:18:00.000-07:00

Hello, it's welcome to my life again isn't it? I'm still quite alive and kicking, thanks for asking. This blog has probably been dead for the past godknowshowlong months and its probably quite metaphorically filled with, as quoted by a friend, "1000mm of dust". I guess its high time to start giving this blog a bit of a wake up call and start blogging - regularly if possible.

Here's a short update on whats been going on in my life in the past few months. Perhaps several months would be a better description of my absence. So bear with me for the next few hundred words or so.

I have:

Started my life in poly. It's quite a life at SP isn't it?

(To the JC guys: SUCK ON THIS YOU SUCKERS! Hahas. I'm kidding. If any of you JC guys are reading this, I should probably say something more refined. Something along the lines of:"Good luck guys, I have absolute faith in you handling the immense stress and workload imposed on you while we slack in Poly doing really fun stuff. You guys can do it!" Followed by the very very very overused "Jiayou"! )

Made some new friends. Some, I hope, will be friends for the next half a century or something. (Now's the time for some of you to start smiling when you read this. You know who you are)

Continued to be stuck at that half a song I've been trying to write for the last 10 months or so. I think it's time for me to start asking for help.

Finally climbed out of the pit I fell into. Now the problem is, so much has changed, I'm actually quite lost. Someone should loan me a map.

Nearly completed my first semester at SP. I should probably say it has been a good semester. As it is, there's little to regret and so much to look forward to.

Gotten a new hairstyle. I'm through with the emo fringe. I'm going for a shorter cut. No pun intended.

Quit piano. Apparently piano doesn't agree with me.

Reaffirmed my belief that I cannot dance. Or rather, that I can dance - Just not very well.

Started to get a little soft. Lets just say the little countries on my abdomen are starting to form one united nation.

Realised I'm getting soft. Making a point to divide and conquer the little countries on my abdomen.

Learnt a bunch of useful skills in Poly. I'm seriously hoping the 4Ps of marketing are more than just a load of crap.

That kinda what happened to me in the last half a year or so. And a little something I just realised, it's been exactly half a year since my last post. Thats what you call a revelation.

Last paragraph now. As you can clearly see, I'm not dead yet. I'm alive. I just don't blog very often. So anyone reading this post now can check back in a few months time. Hopefully, there'll be another post. Otherwise, why not try waiting half a year?

A Reflection, A Passing, A Descent Into Nothing...and a chunk of Misc

2010-02-20T01:28:00.000-08:00

Last post: September 2nd, "Anger Management".
Current Post: "A Reflection, A Passing, A Descent Into Nothing...and a chunk of Misc"

Another year has come and gone. Much has happened, much goes on.

I am blogging now. Why? Someone asked me to. I have no idea how this post will turn out at the end(other than the obvious fact that it'll have a really spiffy title)and I'm sure I'll be more surprised than whoever is reading this. Again, I have no idea how this will turn out, and I'd like to emphasize upon the fact that I am doing this simply because someone told me to. Will that someone kindly raise up her hand? Auni, that means you. Thanks.

This post is going to be a long one. Perhaps to make up for the absence of anything from September 2nd. I don't know why. I just know it'll be.

From the last post to the present, I have:

Gotten a 30 point score for my Preliminary Examinations(R4 or R5?I won't say.Equally horrific.)

Mugged for my 'O' levels.(Worst time of my life thus far. Period.)

Sat for my 'O' levels.(Horrible time as well. Never felt so stressed)

Gone for a class chalet. How some people are able to snore like earthquakes is clearly beyond me.(MJ, if you happen to read this, this means you.)

Worked for a day.Waiter.Injured my arm from carrying too many plates at once.

Written half a song.Perhaps I'll never complete the second half of it.

Climbed out of a pit, only to fall headfirst into another.

Gotten back my 'O' level results. Only to realize I was less of an idiot than I had previously thought.

Started playing computer games. Something I'd completely lost touch with in the months leading to the 'O' levels.

Went to my first LAN shop.

Finally figured out what the hell "DOTA" was.(Defense Of The Asians isn't it?Or was it Ancients?)

Started Piano lessons.

Went to prom. (Without a date, unfortunately. But I did take photos with some of the prettiest girls around. Girls, if you intend to raise your hands, please do so with discretion.)

Played basketball.(What would be an awesome sport on a good day)

Run around a cemetery for exercise.

Attempted to learn a dance... Which failed miserably.

Thats quite a list isn't it? I know I probably missed out a few minor details.But that's all my mind can remember at present.

Right now, I'm waiting for Poly to begin. The next few lines are to be for the benefit of anyone in my course to be googling for fellow course mates. I'll try to make this as detailed as I can. Hopefully, someone will chance upon this.

I will be studying course S86 at Singapore Polytechnic in 2010. April. Media and Communications. It is my first choice and I WILL NOT be transferring to Ngee Ann Polytechnic though my grades permit it. Thank you.

And thus concludes "A Reflection, A Passing, A Descent Into Nothing...and a chunk of Misc". @Awesome Person: Satisfied I posted?

Anger Management

2009-09-02T19:40:00.000-07:00

Anger Management...

...Is a gift some people lack.

Anger Management,Keeping one's emotions in check,is something some people find themselves unable to do.
They are like balloons.They make a loud noise when their fragile outsides are 'popped'.And yet,we have to
accept the fact that they are a part of our imperfect society.

These are vicious creatures.However,we must understand that some are merely mentally unsound and thus find
themselves unable to control their emotions.Others are merely cruel and sadistic and enjoy watching others
suffer as they unlease wave after wave of their anger.Thankfully,most of them fall under the mentally unsound
category.These poor souls face the daily pressure of their daily lives and are forced to find an outlet to
release their pent up emotions.Examples of these would include teachers(Don't blame them.Some are mentally unsound
and cannot help it),parents(who are sometimes sadistic as well)and of course the bitter people of life.

These angry people are of one breed.The all speak the same language:Anger.Sometimes,if one is lucky,one may
notice the unique customs these people carry.When angered,some may do something resembling a war dance.Thats
when they start hopping on the spot and singing in their own guttural language.I believe the term used is known
as "hopping mad".In this state,their singing is generally horrible and may contain certain obscenities from our
common language.That,however,is pure coincidence and has an entirely different meaning on its own.Toddlers to young
adults have been known to take part in this 'cultural exhibition' every now and then.Their older counterparts
are merely content with the rough chanting of their culture.

Anyways,Anger Management can be easily achieved.Take the following for example..

WIFE: When I get mad at you, you never fight back. How do you control your anger?

HUSBAND : I clean the toilet....

WIFE: How does that help ?

HUSBAND : I use your toothbrush.

To all the angry people out there:You do not need to sing and dance for us to let us know how pissed you are.
Just use our toothbrushes to clean the toilet.You'll work off a good load of calories and give us all an excuse
to buy a new toothbrush.

Blog Like A Blogger

2009-07-11T10:51:00.001-07:00

Blog Like A Blogger.I'll admit,I've never actually blogged like a blogger before.Thus far,I've been using perfect english all the way.I think I'll give "Real Blogging" a shot now.

Here goes,

"Todae was boring.morning go IMM for breakfast.Den spent the whole dae reading some stupid book.Very interesting.Den I go sms my fren.Talk whole dae.Then at night got party.whole family around.too much food.very sianz.Eat alot.I think will grow fat :x.Den I went fb look at photos.Got my assthatics night photos.I look lyk crap.Damn stupid.Den got one photo the quality lyk shit.make me look damn fuzzy.And finally,I decided to blog.Byes~"

I disgust myself with the above post.I read it over and over again.My dinner is fighting its way out.Of course this is an exaggerated form of blogging.Utterly disgusting.Takes the fun of reading.Makes reading a challenge.Makes diciphering a hobby.I'll stick to my usual style of purrfect english.Don't blame be for it.I tried to Blog Like A Blogger.Didn't like it.I'm sticking to normal english.

Criminals

2009-06-23T08:59:00.000-07:00

It's been ages since I'd last written anything. It doesn't matter anyway. I don't take pride in posting in the little everyday affairs of my simple ordinary life. I don't take pride in posting something for the sake of merely posting. I guess that's why I don't post too often. I shan't waste my time bandying pointless words,one paragraph of pointlessness is more than enough for me.

We live in a chaotic world. Not a day goes by without a single person dying at the hands criminals. Be it by direct or indirect action, it doesn't really matter. All of us are criminals in our own right. One doesn't have to break the law to make one criminal. Most of us are guilty of one particular crime. We are killers. Conversation killers.

As the saying goes "There are many ways to skin a cat". Likewise, there are many ways to kill a conversation. A conversation is a delicate thing, one wrong move and one can ruin a whole conversation. Ever had a time when you said something wrongly and offended another person? Ever bored another person with your oral account of your litany of misfortunes? Have you ever drowned another person with an endless babble of yourself? Pointed out something offensive that earned you the enmity of the other party? You probably have. You are a conversation killer.

I've met many conversation criminals in my life. Theres one particularly irritating one I know. I'd describe him as the typical teenage asian male metrosexual. From what I know of him, he's obnoxiously vain, arrogant and loves to talk about everything and anything everyone else doesn't want to talk about. I see him each morning when I look in the mirror and I give myself a slap. Did I also mention he's a brilliant liar?

Moving on, the real conversation killers I've seen come in many shapes and sizes.
But they all have one thing in common. They all irritating. One of the most common ones I have to put up with is called the "Practical Killers". They are known for their sheer efficiency in killing conversations. They tend to use killer topics such as "money"(how you have to cut back on spending on luxury items),"education"(applies to students), job prospects and other practical whatnot. These killers plow on relentlessly harping on their dry topics. Some might call them concerned, caring and perhaps well meaning even. I'll compress all this and call the general term "persistently irritating". They usually take the form of parents and relatives.

Another conversation killer breed is known as a Holy Warrior. These Conversation Crusaders will stop at nothing to convince you to join their cause. While they are not exactly wrong in their aggressive approach, these "Lightbringers" tend to leave their victims scarred and fearful. Blinded by sheer faith, they are often tactless and fanatical. Their approach makes the victim feel awkward and intimidated in their powerful presence. Their faith driven approach is a coup de grace that kills off the conversation that they are fighting so hard to keep alive and makes any possibility of future conversation almost impossible. They tend to take the form of pious friends and charismatic priests. And they're usually christians.

Next, we have another group: "Oral Autobiographers". These creatures love nothing better than to serve their purpose, Recounting their achievements to anyone foolish enough to listen. They can rattle for hours and hours recounting what seems to them to be an interesting anecdote of their rather eventful(in their opinion)and interesting(see previous bracket) life. They also enjoy sharing their interests and hobbies with their unfortunate victim,who,they believe,is passionately interested and shares the same hobbies and interests. These creatures are an instant remedy of insomnia and they worth many times better than lullabies and sheep counting. I've known "Oral Autobiographers" who have sent themselves into the depths of the deepest slumber with their own interesting anecdotes. These "Oral Autobiographers" come from all walks of life, driven by an ego than their brains. They can appear in any form.

Lastly, we have the "Suicide Bombers". These pitiful creatures are often burdened with problems. These villians prey on kindred spirits. They pour out their hearts and souls to the other party and expect sympathy. They selfishly burden their victims with unwanted problems and like a blight, the depression spreads, dragging the victim into the hollow depths of misery. Just like suicide bombers, these murderers not only butcher the conversation in cold blood, they take their victims with them too. There have been reports of some sadistic criminals exaggerating their pitiful tales and causing widespread hurt and sorrow. While they may not entirely be blamed for their crime, a crime is still a crime. They are still criminals.

To conclude this post,Conversation making is like chess. One wrong move and it's checkmate. There are no rules in this game of chess except to keep the conversation alive. The rule is simple, the paths are many. Don't be a conversation killer. Don't be a murderer.

Confessions of a Metrosexual..

2009-04-30T06:43:00.000-07:00

I have a confession to make.I think I'm metrosexual.Not homosexual.Metrosexual.That means that I'm normal.Vain,but still normal.

A metrosexual is a "heterosexual male who has a strong aesthetic sense and inordinate interest in appearance and style, similar to that of homosexual males."

Just as vain,but with better taste than the homosexual male.God made Adam and Eve,not Adam and Steve.Guy + girl. Not Guy + gay.(And for the record,the acronym BGR stands for Boy-girl relationship. Not Boy-gay relationship)

Ever heard of guys getting their hair done at salons?You probably have.Know any?Maybe not.I know a guy who gets his hair done at a salon.That guy is the very person writing this very post.And he's been getting his hair done at a salon for three years already.

Enough of the 'third person writing' crap. I went to a salon today to get my hair done. Lost twenty dollars for the cut and wash. Went home with a lighter wallet.

Why waste money on a salon?Any barber can give you a decent cut.But not for me.The last time I went to a barber.I came back with a horrible haircut that strongly resembled that of a geek.Since then,I have never set foot into another barber shop again.Appearance matters,I'm vain,I'm metrosexual,I'm normal,and I'm proud of it.

Gourmet, The Decor of the Plate

2009-04-12T01:35:00.000-07:00

Gourmet(pronounced as Goor-mey)is defined as:

a connoisseur of fine food and drink; epicure. [Noun]

or

of or characteristic of a gourmet, esp. in involving or purporting to involve high-quality or exotic ingredients and skilled preparation: gourmet meals; gourmet cooking. [adjective]

elaborately equipped for the preparation of fancy, specialized, or exotic meals: a gourmet kitchen. [Another adjective]

Puzzled by the deep definitions?You're not alone.That makes the two of us.

Gourmet food is, quite simply, fancy food.

Hawker Centre Food v.s. Gourmet Food

Hawker Centre Food:

Cost:Low
Taste:Average
Decor:Nonexistent(The pictures they show are lies)
Quantity:Average

Gourmet Food:

Cost:Budget-Busting,Wallet-Whipping,Dollar-Depleting waste of money.
Taste:Excellent.At least until you get the bill.It sours the taste.
Decor:Like a work of art.It hurts you to take a bite.
Quantity:Just Enough for a bird.

Without Further Ado,Let me post a few pictures of my dinner.
The Decor of the Plate.

Prefects Are As Perfect as Perfect Can Be?

2009-03-30T04:55:00.000-07:00

It has been quite a while since I last posted.I guess its high time to start updating and putting in yet another absolutely redundant post.

A teacher once told the prefects,"Prefects are Perfect".She then tactfully changed it to "Prefects are as Perfect as Perfect can be" to avoid offending anyone.This message is ironic. Many prefects,in my most humble opinion,are FAR from perfect.I know,they're simply horrible.(The above statement is highly subjective as many would beg to differ.)

When you think of the word "Prefect",what comes to mind?The average person would probably envision role model students helping teachers, students with pretty badges widely respected by the student populace.(If you think otherwise,you're abnormal,go see a doctor or something.)For the normal people,start thinking otherwise. That fantasy doesn't exist.Start waking up now.The only truth in the description is that the prefects do wear pretty badges(This,again,is also highly subjective.)

Truth to be told,the reality is often harsh.Prefects are often somewhat less than role models and they are definitely NOT widely respected by the student populace.As for the part about helping teachers...once again,its highly subjective.

Looking at the current batch of prefects currently serving in one school,lets just say that they have more quantity than quality.They say that the standards have been dropping and that the prefects need to buck up.Lets face it,it's hard to make a comeback when you haven't actually been anywhere.

I'd like to end off with an introduction(as you can see,I'm not exactly your conventional blogger).I am a prefect and a terrible hypocrite.It's my school I'm talking about.The top dogs say that there's still hope for the entire Prefectorial board.But if all is not lost,where is it?

Holiday Lessons, are they redundant?

2009-03-16T07:56:00.000-07:00

I guess its been quite a while since I actually sat down to blog. Almost a month actually. I guess I really am THAT lazy. Either that, or I merely believe that procrastination on my part is quite simply an unappreciated art. I like the latter excuse.

Technically, it's the school holidays. I should be, as the Seven Habits of the Highly Effective Mind suggests, "Sharpening My Saw". It simply means slacking. Unfortunately, the school seems to think otherwise. To "Sharpen your saw" in the academic context probably refers to hours of perpetual practice, constant practice and lots of hard work. As the age old saying goes: Practice makes perfect.

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT:

Pessimist: Practice makes perfect; If no one is perfect, why practice?
Optimist: Practice makes perfect; If no one is perfect, why not be the first?

Another popular quote is:

If a=1, b=2, c=3..etc

KNOWLEDGE: 96

HARD WORK: 98

and of course

ATTITUDE: 100

But.. There's one the schools don't like to tell you..

BULLSHIT: 103

Moral of the post: Why practice?Why bother about attitude?
With enough bullshit,you can succeed.

A Prologue, A Prelude, A Post..

2009-02-20T18:46:00.000-08:00

It's rather strange and ironic that after years and years of blog bashing, I have finally come to create a blog of my own for others to bash. I have sneered at the feeble posts that many have put up for the sake of posting something new for readers and fans to read. Now, it's the turn of others to sneer at my feeble posts. In this aspect, life is fair.

Sixteen is rather old for one to start a blog. I am sixteen. I am pretty much obsolete. I'll never forget the day I started this blog. Nobody forgets their very own birthday.

This entry will be A Prologue to further entries, A Prelude to more nonsense and quite simply A Post to start off a blog.