we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Saturday, October 26, 2002
8:26 AM
Hotties
A happening saturday indeed. I met huanghui in the wee hours of the morning at 10:30am to get an MC, for once again, we pon a entrepreneur talk. Sigh, i didn't want to ok? But i didn't have a choice since the talk lasted 7 hours and it was just too much for me to bear. But anyway, we proceeded to JEC soonafter to undergo 4 hours of blister inducing ice skating with yan, ranieri and cher at approximately 1pm, before making our way to NUS cultural centre for the hotties one-night-only concert.
Half the world was there, as always happens with every rJ occasion. From leon and co. to *noOkz* and her sec class, from chinese high's eegofreakz to chinese high's pRC, from 80 yr old grandma to 4 yr old kiddos, and even a stunt appearance by zhiqiang, my OCIP team mate who gently reminded me to bring my renewed passport on monday.
Hotties sang on and on and on and on, responding to two encores and ended only after 2 hours, with guest appearances of yan and his sax; and Jacklyn and her vocals. The crowd was hyped up, shouting, screaming, waving and hurling those light sticks onto the stage. Poor jack, though petite in build, must have been hit at least 50 times.
Oh well, once again, gazillion congrats to xunming, jack and justin for their kaboinkingly splendid rock concert today. They told me once during my 1st 3 months at rJ, that their dream was to hold a band concert. Yet again another dream fulfilled.
Today, they told half the world that they would want to make it big, be known throughout the globe, be splashed over magazines and news presses. Upon a star i wish, the hotties would make their national debut one day.
the voices in my head-
Friday, October 25, 2002
7:40 AM
IPW, fiñaLÉ
i looked forward to all projects, always. IPW was of no difference, each double period IPW period was a relief for me each friday after an inevitable session of physics practical. (note: inevitable. see? i don't pongteng anymore.) But anyway, IPW was more of fun than anything else, or so i thought. A gazillion litres of pen ink wasted to utterly false meeting minutes, not mentioning surveys which reach out to a microscopic sphere of audience. And next comes the dreaded interview of sandra which chewed on more trouble than we could handle. Till date, i have no baboonic idea what went on between chengping and sand that night.
But anyway, today marks the significant end to what was seemingly an educational IPW agendum. After a so-full-of-rubbishy-impromptu speech and a few gruelling minutes of interrogation of alienic creatures sent from MOE, we were free from IPW at last. Hail the farsight of singapore's education system, where we are gonna be groomed into future leaders and pillars of our country.
Begging to differ, more like future yes-men who alter project schemes to suit the (one and only) planned format. So much for creativity and innovation. Oh well, what matters. Its all over.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, October 20, 2002
8:32 AM
Black Jelly
After hours of basketball and LAN gaming, the numbers of 6 reduced to 4, and Solomon, Terence, Junbin and I settled ourselves for dinner at the top level of Beauty World. A 6 course meal followed, from BahKuTeh to chicken chop, from magarinated bread to numerous pork balls. A grand finale to top it off, 5 excruciating bowls of black jelly.
I never knew black jelly could cause such impletion, a bowl for each of us could already fill the likes of solomon and i to the brims of our throats. A fifth bowl remained untouched, but as the humane species of humanity the four of us are, we could not bear to see a perfect bowl of black jelly go wasted. So, credit goes to the brilliance of solomon's mind, we played the game Truth or Dare or Eat.
A year has passed since we've parted, but friends we still remain. What slips our mouths has complete confidence that the other parties would never divulge the divine secrets shared on table 54 of BW Food Court. As usual, i was bombarded with questions of that aspect, from self satisfaction to current relationships. Junbin, a mystic character, gives his usual air of [ask-all-you-want] while Solomon unveiled a side of him i'd never known. Terence though, that sneaky bastard, hides anything and everything, and best wishes to him if he attains food poisoning in the coming days.
In a few rotations, humongous portions of black jelly were juggling itself within the pits of Terence's tummy. tchs4E has not changed a wee bit, still as funky, still as crazy. I wonder if we'd have nepal times again, where techno screams escapes his mouth when the hairy one goes drunk, where yuji and solomon walked with their hands, where colin burnt his finger with silly potions, where kevin cried and laughed simultaneously, where weian and yuda exhibits their teeny weeny forests to the himalayan mountains and where true bosom friends merge as one cool eegofreakz.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, October 19, 2002
6:31 AM
I'm a little coffee cup, short and stout
Yipee. Finally got this comment thing up on my blog, ben and sandra have been pleading with me to switch to open diary, but i know it would be a gargantuan mistake due to my idiocracy when it comes to html scripting. So there, this [whatever-its-called] creates the best of both worlds, where i need not switch hosts yet able to entertain comments.
Anyway, these few days have been a downward spiral despite the eventful happenings. I return home every day feeling empty and cold, just like a drained coffee cup. Just yesterday, i was kabished into hwachong's open house with a bang by dancing with fuh luen smack right in the middle of central plaza. For some nut reason, i played along with him and contorted my body into various ridiculous positions and spinned at an atrocious velocity. Perspectives was followed by a song dedication of Guang Huai Fang Shi by some girls in my class, and it was a weird gathering of 6 individuals once again right smack in the middle of the central plaza. Chengping, Shirley, Xianglian, Yinbing, Felicia and I just rooted ourselves and began to sing along with the buzzled tune amidst a sea of secondary 4 students. Then, a rumour went about saying that Daniel Ong was at the courts, and FuhLuen and I rushed down to see him hoop a few shots, what chain of events followed i could never clearly recall, but my status of being spectator switched to player due to Fuh Luen's crafty withdrawal. Clothed in utter black, and metallic silver jeans, i felt a substantial amount of muscles beneath that DJ as he spun and jumped; Somehow, his accent resembled that of Gallent and i fought to keep a straight face whenever he spoke to me.
Open house was great fun, but i felt a ripple of remorse as i looked back. I know i should be grateful that for my work effort, i have evaded the possibility of being in the same class as those secondary four pupils who flooded the gates of hwachong yesterday. But would i remain an undaunted individual in hwachong or yet again another wanderer in a faraway place?
Perhaps that is why i feel like a coffee cup. I don't know if these friends i am presently mingling with would remain my bosom pals, or just another distant memory that drifts into my life and fades away, yet again.
the voices in my head-
Shadows Who Share
I don't need a friend who changes when I change and who nods when I nod; my shadow does that much better.
the voices in my head-
Friday, October 18, 2002
8:27 AM
A Kaleidoscope Of Perspectives
I returned to RJ today, it was unnerving. Every tile and bench stared defiantly back at me as if i was revisiting a mere yesterday. Truth is, i had left the green and black for more than half a year already, yet everything was still so familiar. The auntie at stall 3 exclaimed at how identical i looked before i left, and the auntie at stall 1 offered me a banana toast before i placed my order, just like the old days.
The irony of it all, i was at its open house which was meant to garner a wider sphere of influence, attracting sec 4 students into its school. i was there yet i knew i can't stay there, and as i snailed with the crowd with the tour guides, a weird sensation built up in me. The orientation video which was out in full blossom unveiled itself before the sec 4 students, and amidst them, it was weird watching my own orientation in play. My 3 bball friends were too busy checking out the girls to notice any apparent change in demeanor.
The people changed too, or perhaps it was just me. Somehow, something in me could not be unhinged and i could not speak to Chermain as i used to, nor Mel nor Cherie nor Jill. I could not even drop by Olivia's art club, but passed them replies to long lost letters they'd written a gazillion days back. I sincerely hope that the cause of this catastrophic attitude change was the nagging voice at the back of my head which kept pricking me to return to HC for the manning of the basketball booth, and not a character change in either my friends or I.
An old saying goes absence makes the heart grow fonder, but something today tells me exceptions occur, as always. The benches and courts still look the same to me, why can't the people? Many believe that school transfers always suck, i was unconvinced, for i believed that i could make new friends while retaining old ones. Perhaps i was wrong, but may i pray tonight that God Almighty would graciously allow me to retain my beloved friends both at HC and RJ wherever i go...
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, October 16, 2002
7:19 AM
Choices
Either OCIP or basketball. So surfaced the first conflict between these two issues today.
I had an OCIP meeting at 3, and the supposedly short facilitation meeting turned out to be a 3 and a half hour drag which splurged out questions from sensible enquires on cooking menus to spastic remarks and hysteric outbursts. Pak hasn't changed a wee bit in my humble opinion, even though i heard that he'd supposedly matured. And, a few people just pisses me off each time their mouth lets fly an unwanted remark. I hope its just me being pissed today and all, and not them being permanent idiots, or 18 days in china with such hellistic hypocrites would be a shithole in the 9th pits of hell.
Its all about choices i guess. And FuhLuen told me if i wanted to go for OCIP, i'd better make sure my heart's all for it in order to enjoy myself. Yes indeed, i love trips, i love outings, i love social life. But the opportunity cost this time is just too much to bear. 18 days! Going for OCIP would all well gurantee i'm out of basketball next year, and i'd already missed the first significant coach training session today. sigh.
All my life, i never had a season. I was so close to getting one in RJ before getting booted like a firewalker with his butt on fire, and then came HCJC where i was nothing but a proverbial guppy in a sea of sharks. OCIP might completely shelf the possibility of a season, but not going for OCIP doesn't gurantee me a place in the team either. But yet again, if i go for OCIP, would i enjoy myself as i had when i vacated the nepal mountains with 4E? Would i return to Singapore 18 days later with "Fuck, i'd wasted 18 days when i could have trained myself for basketball!" or "Ahaz, life enriched, eyes broaded, friends made." ?
But before OCIP or basketball crashes head-on into my holiday schedule, an impending armaggadon approaches me like a fist into my ass. O for physics. E for maths. F for chem. Wala, if i get a F tomorrow for econs, i'm as dead as a doodling duck, but even if i don't, i'd be made to drop a subject. Gun point blank, i'd castrate my class guys before i'll drop any subjects, perhaps switch to AJC or something, but i don't think i'll ever drop any subjects. ever.
Life is about choices. I made the choice to act an idiot from term 1 to 3, and smacked in my face is the most disgusting grade i can ever imagine. Nevertheless, i see no choice between OCIP and basketball. I cannot possibly withdraw from OCIP, i'd be letting my peers down, firstly by evacuating a secured place in OCIP when others were rejected, secondly by pulling out when we were supposed to be it together. Also, my parents would personally skin then skewer me over a barbeque pit if they realise that $800 deposit had gone down the drain to mingle with NEWater for nothing. And lastly, veronica chua. -smiles-
Choices. A junction in the pathway of our lives. To turn left or to turn right? I just hope to stay at HC with 4 subjects.
the voices in my head-
Tuesday, October 15, 2002
7:40 AM
I awoke. Drenched in cold sweat, shivering all over.
So glad its all but a nightmare.
Like hailstones, a second chance rains for papapepapoo.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, October 13, 2002
6:11 AM
FOS continuato part 2
On Bad Analogies
Once upon a time, there lived two palace liegemen. They were bosom pals and worked endlessly over the palaces beyond fujiato mountains in Italy. One of them was a tall bulky executioner named pepepapepoo, with biceps half the size of buttress roots and thighs with enough power in them to propel half the world into deep space. The other, a lanky idiot named papapepapoo, who's supposedly bilingual but can only speak a teeny weeny wee bit of french enough to purchase a packet of french fries.
One creepy night, a shrill cry pierced through the palace walls and before you could say "limkamputi", a shadow streaked past the large oak palace doors. The lanky liegemen was swift and alert, and yelled "Prisoner Escape!" repeatedly. Knowing he was no match for the rapid pace of that fugitive, he quickly approached pepepapepoo. All flushed up and excited, papapepapoo for no reason under the deep blue moon, started speaking in french. Alas, pepepapepoo, still half asleep and all drowsy, misheard him somehow. He grabbed his heavy axe and thundered out of the room, heading for goodness-knows-where.
Lalala, papapepapoo thought to himself, what a happy night this would be; prisoner getting caught, he getting praised by the king the next day for his diligence and all. *yawn* then he plopped off to bed and drifted to zZzland with an easy heart.
The following day, a loud clanging battle horn awoke papapepapoo. And in the pace of a red-headed rhino, several guards stormed into the room and clanged up papapepapoo. He was much confused, with sweat tumbling down his tender cheeks. Perspiration perhaps, or maybe cold sweat, he didn't know; but as the guards dragged him into the town hall, rows upon rows of peasants were hurling rotten cabbage and squashed tomatoes at him. Bewildered, he made a frantic rush to one of them, with chains and muscles pinning him back into the path. He heard snippets of conversation though...
"Him? How is it possible? How could he say such stuff?"
"Man.. he deserves to die"
"Execute him! Execute him!"
"He didn't seem to be of such character just days ago..."
Poor papapepapoo had no time to sort his train of thoughts and piece the mind-boggling puzzle together. He was dragged beneath the king's feet and the court official screamed out.
"He shall be publicly executed at noon in front of all audience, for masterminding the assasination of her highness last night, by manipulating the honour of knightly executioner pepepapepoo."
The crowd roared, and a thunderous clap enveloped the atmosphere as papapepapoo was placed on the death board. Mighty pepepapepoo doned his ski mask, and as he lifted up his heavy axe, the glint of sunshine blinded the criminal's worthless eyes. Swish came the axe, and loud was the thud of papapepapoo's head upon the town hall. Weighted with confusion and innocence, it spoke split seconds before the axe made contact.
"I'll be the enemy you killed, my friend."
the voices in my head-
Friday, October 11, 2002
9:52 AM
On Basketball
FOS continuato
62 lost, 68 triumphed. I wasn't there to witness the ensanguined showdown, but i heard i had missed one hell of a show. It was pitting fastbreaks against rebounds, with height against agility. I guessed height had its heyday eventually, but what struck the inspiration of this blog entry was one of 68 player's sms to me. (he said) "What matters isn't the win, but what stupid mistakes we make. Oh well..."
Yes indeed, nobody's perfect and we all do make mistakes, but personally, this FOS has incurred a boulderfall worth of trouble over a pinsized prick of fun. For one, i pissed the pee out of a guy (32) who takes ten smacks in the face without raising a brow. I played rough, lashing out tactical fouls when the referee had his eyes rolling somewhere else. I played bold, dishing out defensive fouls when people were crashing head on for the layup, but yelling out to divert the referee's attention instead, when a perfectly elastic collision took place. Then the end of the match drew near, and i went up to the defeated opponent and explained my acts but was most unfortunately misheard, and screwed was my chinese which caused a meteoriteful worth of misunderstandings. That could be resolved easily, i guess.
Sigh, but think i, never did i play arrogantly, or complacently. Or so i thought.
As i bathed just minutes ago, i recalled the matches i refereed on thursday, particularly of the reigning champions 68, and was disgusted to find certain individuals striding across the basketball courts as if his great grand uncle's dog's owner were Tan Kah Kee himself. When the opponent had a thrown in, he went up to latter and chested him, glaring down beneath. What was the attitude of such? Where was the spirit of sportsmanship? Was this the festival of sports or mortal kombat, annihilation?
At least i played violent for a reason. I played violent for a cause. I don't go striding with half my chest out screaming for attention and acting the entertainer on court. But a voice suddenly called out from the back of my head: you were! you were!
Then think i, indeed i was. I butted out certain puny PRCs (22) in the beginning of the match, I distracted Zhanfan (Joshua's class) as he took the deciding free throws, and I mocked 22 (the PRC class) as the key to our warmup engine. And i do apologise for this. And for that. And for these. And for those.
Another issue is my violence. A gazillion posts back, i once had a bloglet entitled: With great power comes great responsibility, with a great physique comes possibilities of greater violence. I don't remember myself being associated with violence when it came to basketball a year back. Only after i started training with CSC did i start flaunting elbows and screw-off-or-get-hit moves to poor opponents, and at times, teammates. It was somehow imbued in me, and even when i refereed the staff vs 66 (gabriel's class)'s match, yuying pointed out some supposedly callable fouls which did not appeal to me as fouls worth calling. Oh well, i guess i have to simmer my little temper and adrenaline rushes, and cushion pad my elbows and knees, and as promised to fuh luen, i would be a gentler species of player the next time i touch a ball.
Basketball is not about how we play, nor about how many points we score, but what we gain out of it. Friends, or perhaps even polite aquaintances, will brighten the pathway of our lives as we take it on step by step. I still remember my lower secondary days rushing to the courts playing basketball with my cheeeena speaking classmates, nor would i forget the crazy pals of eegofreakz, from fadeaway gabriel to slowmon solomon, from hairy terence to laughy junbin, from twiny yuji to shadow yuda, not forgetting smelly weijin and shortie kevin. Thats the reason why i treasure the occasional pats of 62 joel and sean, telling me to cool down during the match, and of course the bearhug of jingfeng who still owes me a nose after the match. The grin on raymond is also unforgettable, and not missing haojie's outburst of relief.
Forgive me if i had pissed you off, and pray tell me why i pissed you off. Basketball's about a basketball. But its also about 5 teammates and 5 opponents.
the voices in my head-
Thursday, October 10, 2002
8:24 PM
On Skin and Limbs
FOS
As predicted, we got booted out of the league by major kickass 62. Lucky us tided over 32 with a 5-4 win while we stomped through the preliminary over 22. Mighty limbs i once had, i now have wriggly limbs. 62 was a force which had little mass but astronomical acceleration, thus enhancing a force equal to that of a proverbial level 8 starfall.
We tried our best i'm sure, though silly mistakes were made here and there. I was surprised myself at the early lead we gained of 6-2 against 62, but i'm sure we wouldn't hold. 62 has an arsenal of substitutes while 69 had the most pathetic reserves, or wait. none at all in fact. It was most regrettable that our performance slacked off after the 1st half when 62 had their star players switched and i was drained of whatever energy left to manmark them. All in all, jingfeng owes me a nose, raymond owes me a wrist, and some unknown limkamputi owes me a jab in my wrist from the start of the match. But i'm sure, i owe a hell load of people limbs too. 69 rocks, we were bloody good, but i guess 62 was just better.
All the way 62, and may we be the gallant losers to have lost to the champions.
the voices in my head-
Friday, October 04, 2002
7:00 AM
Prayer
3 days to chem paper.
3 days to end of promos.
3 days to chalet. Ha.
yawn. I've never had such fatigue coursing in me before, clocking only 5 hours of sleep the last two nights, its as if i've been wafting through my day like a amorphous phantom. What makes it worse is the state of mental bombardment, i'm more than used to picketed physical suffrance, but 4 termfuls worth of knowledge smacked in the face is just too much to bear. Oh. and nothing beats studying for something that did not emerge in the examinations. yawn.
sigh. I'm screwed. honest. Econs was a disapointment, my eyes rolled over the MCQs whilst the numerals swam in every direction, just like sperms with their tails entangled and struggling to break free. I misread values of 225 as 125, and mixed up the most obvious formulae. Physics was a full blown disaster, i was just like a proverbial spider between a proverbial hippo's ass crack. Maths though my most confident subject, failed me once again as time crashed headon with me. sigh.
Monday would be coup de grâce, whether the following months would be the beginning of an end or the end of a beginning would depend on my final paper. To retain or be retained, all eggs are shouldered on my scalded spine...
i should be a teeny wee bit late for monday's chalet. I'd better go to church.
May God Be With Me. amen.
the voices in my head-
i love my girl. a love so beautiful, symmetrical, tangible
God loves me. a love so great, unconditional, real.
my life in a nutshell. working towards loves of sorts. beautiful, symmetrical, tangible, great, unconditional and real.
a page, deliberately left blank.
Love is patient, love is kind.
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking.
It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
I Corinthians 13:4-8
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