a W a k 3 n | n G *

Monday, March 31, 2003
6:44 AM

The Hours

i met up with fangxi, rach and yB to catch this irrefutably harrowing show. Yes indeed, virginia in her element, the theme on lesbian prevailed throughout the entire show. But strangely, it struck me only on the surface whilst each other scene pricked my heartstrings. False confidence, life and death, happiness and commitments, such are the life matters which we drive ourselves through each day, but never once pause a second to give a thought about it.

i particularly love the hostile whispers of she who wanted to escape into london. she felt exactly as colin once said, "I have always needed to be here, in order to go there. Perhaps it is in my nature to convert my theres to heres, that I shall never, really, be there, always one step behind, always irked at being determined by someone else who was here, but wishing to be there."
i now live a life here for others too. no, i do not resemble the poet living for Mrs Dabawowow (however you spell it) and i'm nowhere near suicidal, but i'm living my life for my parents. If not for them, i'd have escaped into a faraway land, steal fanta off vacant stores, rob farmers of their potatoes and play basketball all day.
i seem happy. i seem confident. but for all you know, i might have a uterus growth or three balls instead of two. how many smiles and gleaming faces do we see each day, and how many are actually masks of pretence over a troubled heart? i shall never know, nor do i have the right to know.
There's a very fine line between a groove and a rut; a fine line between eccentrics and people who are just plain nuts. Yet, nuts or geniuses, they are the only people who can understand themselves. Tao Te Ching once said that he who knows others is wise but he who knows himself is enlightened. Such individuals understand themselves, but are misunderstood by others, which would you choose?
Children though are able to see through each event, unfazzled by the works of society. The child knew when his mother was going to kill herself, the niece knew something was amiss when her aunt bid her mum a teary goodbye. Innocence and ignorance, simplicity and purileness, such wonders of immaturity i would soon leave when i enter adulthood. Only with death, like the bird upon a bed of roses, would i once again attain such serenity of thought, my eyes still with an unblinking tranquility.

The Hours, as dalglish puts it, was absolutely beautiful. i find it grossly disturbing though, for it outrightly challenged me. Am i living a life, or am i living my life? Am i just a happy boy, who would soon morph into a depressed character? Am i truly happy, or are the disguises of happiness thrown over myself so often that i'd already buried my true self?
i thought, and i thought. yet i found no answers.

the voices in my head-

Sunday, March 30, 2003
7:39 AM

I Know Not

Feelings are not supposed to be logical. Dangerous is the man who has rationalized his emotions
Stop asking me why and how and when. Please.

the voices in my head-

Saturday, March 29, 2003
2:44 AM

Wonderful Players

I realised today that the human mind is an interesting item.
There are many wonderful players, some who can dunk, some who can shoot at grossly accurate percentiles, while some who can keep the morale of the team up.
I fit into neither of such, on the contrary, i'm the world's most unwonderful player, being able to spark distortion and havoc in the opponent's court with a few unseen butt pinches and pokes in the groin. the flawless rule is not to let slip such tactics to the sight of the referee. Morals aside, i'd witnessed for 2 days in a row the way such underhand methods play with the human mind.
Wonderful players were virtually in self detonation mode, while their minds wrecked their souls amidst fury and exasperation. Wonderful players were destroyed in anguish and balls flew wild. Its a scary sight seeing what one is capable of doing when his state of mind is off the balance.
Upon self reflection, i wonder how many times my mind had lost its nuts and bolts, and i wonder what i'd done in such times.

the voices in my head-

Friday, March 28, 2003
3:47 AM

Twice upon a time

if love were a function of the number of smses you received,
i feel so loved these days.
a big thank you to you-know-who-you-are out there, be it the calls, guestbook signoffs, smses, pats on the back. i do appreciate it.

but hey, why does everyone think i'm embarking on a suicidal mood?
i'm seriously fine!
in fact, i killed approximately hundred hippogriff riders and fifty wyverns today.

cheerios!

the voices in my head-

Thursday, March 27, 2003
6:57 AM

Dante's Peak

my forte's not thinking, i try not to think too much
but hours i spent on bed, swimming in my murky thoughts

i sought desparate eschewal within 69
but like windows to a soul, my eyes gave it away
the prodding issue bugged me round
turning orchard into memory filled lanes
morphing comedies into tragedies

strange though, i feel naught misery nor fury
utter confusion sizzles instead
i shouldn't suicide, rach said
cher kept asking me if i were ok
maybe i'm a jerk, a big fat one
to mourn not over such
but lest tears speak more than words
i had already cried a long time ago

perhaps it would turn out better for us this way
but deep down i know it a pity
a love wrecked by distance
a relationship screwed by time

all good things have to end
believe me
i truly did loved you
i did truly loved you.

the voices in my head-

Wednesday, March 26, 2003
8:52 AM

Little Ironies

I realise that as we age, we're engulfed in increasingly complex ironies.
I reached puberty at a ripe old age of twelve, and i realised that man's greatest weakness is also his greatest strength.
As i morphed into a sweet little 16thing, i realised that love swallows oneself into bouts of depression and swings of ectasy at the same time.
Then an international political irony emerged this year, as the american majority pledged support to a war-seeking president, while they impeached another for expressing utmost love in the mouth at his oval office.
And today, i realised that everyone's crying out for joy at the holidays declared due to a death.
I'm no exception, after all, i always look at the bright side of life! =)

the voices in my head-

Tuesday, March 25, 2003
6:14 AM

The Dementor's Kiss

i see empty souls wandering around schools, half tearing half putting up a brave front.
The girls wore beaming faces, but their eyes reveal their hearts in crude nakedness. The guys shunned their remaining days, tears tumbling down their tender cheeks.
All of them sat in morbid silence, as if their butts were working to diffuse into the class benches, to be part of hwachong, to don the khaki uniform. i looked around me, and swallowed all of this dazed reality in vivid recollection. i was in their state, oh so confident of being retained in rjc, but appealing emerges as a more confounding issue than capacitance or electromagnetism. i was stunned, lost, and empty like a shell without the snail.
but my friends were there for me, and till this day, i remember the little notes and sms and talks and hugs. it killed the dementor's kiss like dove milk white chocolate. it served as the patronus that drove me on to emerge stronger.

but today, one of my basketball junior has got to leave. and i realised that i was lost for words.

the voices in my head-

Friday, March 21, 2003
7:03 AM

Muses Amuses Not

i think a weebit of mugging has fried my brain inside out upside down right till the last nikamput cell. i've been studying like for the third day in the row, following strict self discipline of only 3 hours of play per day, whilst attempting at least 3 hours of studying too.
in retrospect, the opportunity cost is pretty gross. somehow, when you open your heart to unfounded knowledge, such new wisdom would work its way from your mind to your heart and splinter into a gazillion bits of useless facts, piercing your heart and soul. i'd lost myself literally, as my mood may swing from an ejaculated joy to fundamentally flawed fury. to whom it may concern, sorry.

and with my surfeiting bball sessions throughout the week, while merciless studies bombard me from the 3rd pits of hell, my body resembles an exhausted moon well. basketball draws its mana out like blood to a vampire, while studies could be likened to a rushing blademaster attempting to destroy my one and all. i have to sweep everything else under my bed, and perhaps in a week or two, may i crawl on my fours and try to uncover what lies in abandonment. to whom it may concern, sorry.

i shall complain not, work is a necessity for man. after all, he invented the alarm clock.

the voices in my head-

Thursday, March 20, 2003
5:11 AM

Her She Kisses

You have a mysterious kiss. Your partner never
knows what you're going to come up with next;
this creates great excitement and arousal never
knowing what to expect. And it's sure to end
in a kiss as great as your mystery.

Hehe. my foot.

the voices in my head-

Tuesday, March 18, 2003
7:24 AM

Once upon a time...

Joshua sat beside me, our tummies filled to the brim with barbequed chicken rice and green apple ice. All of a sudden, he tilted his head to one side, and cast a long gaze at me.
"Did you know my class thought grossly of you in lower sec?"

It ain't any big secret i was a full fledged erected prick back in my lower secondary days. I pissed off my classmates, and everyone else who came into contact with the fallen aWak3n|nG would leave the interaction process with bulging eyes, churned with exasperation and fury. And thats just for the appetizers.
Perhaps even Ridley wouldn't believe, but my primary school existence was worse, like a gazillionfold worse. I was ostracised by all, expulsed from class, blacklisted by girls, snubbed by guys. pretty much in a nutshell, a bastard. and glamorously enough, they were kind enough to bestow me with the nickname mermaid.. =)

I have thought about my past a great deal, and wondered what and who actually changed me. The metamorphosis took place in sec 3, but my sec 3 classmates were definitely not life altering species of humanity. But they accepted me, and perhaps that was just the crucial bit of it all.
So some ask me why i'm so kind to people like you-know-who and you-know-who-2, i ain't playing life altering God, nor am i acting the hero. But perhaps its just in them that mirrors my past which confounds me. they. are. my. past. while they would be my present.

Second chances do work wonders, for the number of rekindled friendships which faced a dead-end 5 yrs back can be likened to the twinkling stars upon the sky, even the precious bonds between i and joshua, mingmao and even chermain were based on them. And of course the most cherished, she gave me yet another chance too. To all you people who knew me when i was a jerk, and accepted me for who i am now, thank you.

the voices in my head-

Monday, March 17, 2003
7:22 AM

Monopoly

Fangxi just went on and on with her faithful econs TYS, spurred by the inspiring message on her shirt. Mingwei was perhaps already too used to such gross studying schedules, whilst vernon toyed about with my phone contacts. 9 hours of electromagnetism for me though, was right about enough to drive my mind to the Hell probe and Hell effect. Like the meanie me i am, when i can't study, i shan't let any others study as well, so i kicked up a wreck about my room, and excavated monopoly from the top of my cabinet.

After two hours which seemingly resembled an eternity of gruelling business negotiations and endless mortages of my properties, vernon ended up a thousandaire while fangxi choked up a few modest hundred bills. Mingwei looked as if he was constipated, having landed on vernon's 2-housed mayfair property during the last round, while i could boast of having the most properties. all of which were mortaged though.

i remembered the location of our pieces before mingwei and i embarked on stripping vernon. fangxi was carefully treading the oxford streets with utmost care whilst mingwei let slipped a die to face his catastrophic downfall. on the other hand, vernon the jackass was striding around the board with no fear, whilst i was behind bars. Ironic though, i resembled vernon, fearing nothing for nothing could reach me. It is indeed undeniable that the old maxim stands "you either be right on top, or right at the bottom. Getting shit from both ends is a pretty big deal".

I paced the circumference of the jail house, and thought with a fixed smile on my face.. I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.

the voices in my head-

Saturday, March 15, 2003
3:51 AM

On Funny Mornings

i awoke today to the faint humming of my handphone alarm. the sun hung high, its rays piercing down mercilessly.
it was perhaps 9am, the guys are probably starting on their 6km run, whilst i'm huddled beneath a comfy blanket, cuddled beside my pillows. i snatched at my handphone to shut the alarm, and noticed many unread messages.

admist the routine mornin-nitey messages, i noticed that some of them were frm fulun. it read "hey, i know you had a bad day and all, but you've trained so hard from the start and it ain't really time to give up now. time 22:42" i tried to recall what happened yesterday, but a vague ache in the heart caused much to gush into my mind. it sucks waking up to a train of thoughts, and i flung my handphone outtof sight before springing out of bed. i ran up to my study room and went online while breakfast was prepared.

it is then that i noticed the many responses to my post yesterday, be it in the guestbook, blog or icq messages. how funny that humans rarely notice when you're happy while they fling all the sheltering comfort when you're feeling a wee bit down. how funny you only start to notice you friends at your darkest moments whilst you can't seem to find them to share your happiness. how funny that when you're happy you get all those contagious wrinkly frowns but when you burst out in laughter enveloped with lamity, others jeer in return. how funny that it is such moments of folly that enable you to realise the underlying truths in many matters.

it has been a terribly funny morning. i envisaged myself last night, sad and all, when all of a sudden, my maid called from 3 floors below to tell me that my breakfast was ready. and then i burst out laughing.

the voices in my head-

Friday, March 14, 2003
6:22 AM

Traurig Infinito

There is so much running through my head now that i feel like churning all that runs through my mind, concocting these gazillion bits of flashes of reality into tiny pukes of vommit, and plaster them over the screen in front of me.
Bits of Golden Rooster chicken and green tea jelly could be seen squirming out of that wriggly pink flesh lying in the depths of your mouth, but largest of the 3 pieces were an orange fishball, numbered macaronni 69 and a blood-stained petal shaped chicken, red as rose, thick as slime.

Today's basketball was a fucking disaster. 5 seconds into the game, my first blockout, my first rebound, and a fat grampus came around unleashing his elbows. My spectacles went all bent and slanted, and i couldn't play nuts for the remaining quarter. The coach came up with this grossly unreasonable reasoning that such shouldn't be an excuse (it ain't an excuse, its a reason, dammit.), coz i am blah blah responsible for whatever i'm wearing. Ceteris Paribus, i'm gonna skip tomorrow's 6km run in the morning to fix the damn spectacles.

Today was also the last day of school. i still recall the crisps of memories of 69 last year. it was a joyful class, a united class, one who would stick up for another. is it the absence of an individual who could cause such catastrophic defragmentation? i know not. i ain't particularly close to anyone in class, neither am i particularly distant from anyone. But somehow, i can't confide in any of them, i have no best friends in class, i sit beside no special people during each lesson.
i told chengping a week back about him. he ain't as bad as you think he is, in fact, i think he has a character a thunderload more noble than i do. if he said he'd be there, he would. and on time. perhaps it is the overload of pang-seh-ing that drilled me the importance of such puncutality, but i do honour him for that. Pamela suffered a sprain during FOS, and the entire PE admin was mobilised, with two 5kg packets of ice delivered to the courts in no time.
But he silently teared as he tore everything that he could tear, ruining his softball career, just for the class bball FOS. and we'd just left him at the courts after our defeat to 62, torn ligaments and all, beneath the scorching sun. like a maimed prey for the Sahara vultures. If you do accept me as your friend, do accept him too. we ain't perfect, and nitchy bitchy habits like he biting his pen and stretching his elbow with an argument of (tita/2); he had already promised me that he'd try his best to change.
and one fine day after training when i was so shagged, he called me. "Hey waikit, you know what? i bit my pen only once today!" fuck how gay that can get, but my heart glowed with a warmth i'd never experienced with any other classmates of 69. A wonder how fucking irritants can dig up such pleasure for you, whilst totally awesome dudes just keep missing appointments.
i joined the junior class with kelvin and jiajun for lunch during our chem break. They stormed the Golden Rooster with thunderclaps of laughters and gossip. Their faces split with beaming smiles and amidst bits of chicken and coleslaw, they would gaffaw occasionally. i miss such times when we could laugh so easily, so freely. i miss the old 69 when we would storm nearby eating places or cinemas and laugh ourselves to the stars and moon. i miss the old eegofreakz when bastardly darren, black ben and lippy xiaozheng would provide the spark to the bonfire of lamity. i miss my old self.

14th march `02. Exactly one year ago, i was seated at macdonalds, hesitating seconds after seconds, minute after minute, prodded by the urgency of an impending friendly against NYJC. And then i told you.
A year has passed, how time flies fast. i still recall each date of each special memory, the day my fingers locked yours, the day i sniffed the fragrance of your hair, the day you listened to my thumping heart beat. Had you remembered this date? It has been a long time since i last saw you, and i've been a gross soulmate, i hadn't called, i hadn't bothered to meet you. Our first year anniversary, lost on the priority list to a fucked up basketball match.
All these times, my heart writhes in agony, not you but me who self destroys in my self churned up misery. Like a useless wisp attempting to detonate itself beneath the demon hunter, i try to salvage what i can. i had sinned through the days and weeks and months, but i just can't bear to hurl the ring down Mount Doom. My friends called you an angel, and amidst the surface squirm of that mushi line, i adored your presence like an angelic spirit from heaven. I can't suit you, i who dwell in the underworld of 3 subs and 0 S, holding positions in gross ccas while not excelling in what i'm passionate about, whilst you visit Clementi once in a while, finishing top 4 islandwide yet feeling sad. Each week, you would be occupied with fervent S lessons, piano, or perhaps some other alien enrichment course. Today also marks the first month that we hadn't seen each other, do bestow me your presence someday my dear, it has been a long and weary wait.
Perhaps i hadn't been placed anywhere from the start, but i do know we did loved one another. A year has passed, and like Frodo on his journey to Mount Doom, each step is getting more tedious than the past. There is no Sam by me, and the ring has given me no invisibility capability nor majestic presence. I am lost in the world of my own, lying on my bed fantasising about memories of the past, waking late in the morning only to discover half the first lesson has passed, whilst my work tumbles mountain fold beneath the ninth pits of hell. My love stretches not over eternity, i now linger on a strand of memory, the memory of how we had loved one another.

Everything i had loved has finally failed me, how many times had i been warned about my escapist feats, turning optimistic even from the very pits of darkness. it has been a long time since i cried myself to sleep, it shall be a cold night.

the voices in my head-

Saturday, March 08, 2003
9:01 AM

Half Thin Person

Thirty hours, two stayovers, precious nights punctured by occasional gamings of warcraft, at the expense of beauty sleep and pimple outbreaks, we choreographed it.
A further twenty hours, the rehearsals, the shoutings, the late night adventures with the security guard, and the goddamn load of shit we had to take from higher authorities, we survived it.
And the verdict depended eventually within 4 minutes 3 seconds.

The curtains parted, the crowd roared. How i wished i could spin my head and view the audience in its full effloresce. Pardon the gross irony, but i heard my name vaguely while my nick reverberated within my ears. No time for such itchy witchy trivials, the 44th second was approaching, we had to stand up.
Our movements were perfect, or at least, what i could see from the first row. i'd told huanghui earlier that we all had to be energetic in our dance, with beaming smiles that would split our faces, whilst later resources told me that he resembled a panting dog. i too, was likened to a spider, but i was proudest of our backstage crew. They perfected the starting line-up bowling basketballs and despite the initial screwup, switched so flexibly the mistake had no choice but to backfire upon itself.
Good times had to fly by, and before i knew it, our solo climax drew to an end. The closing movements were flawlessly unleashed, as Huanghui, Fulun and i slammed the ball and spun around, while the curtains closed on us.

All we had done, we had done. and damn, did we have a good time.
i love you guys more than anything else in the world.

* i'm sorry for the short post, but much initially posted on this bloglet had to be taken down in light of many who would stumble upon it. the attitude of the higher authorities especially, the uncensored versions of the stayovers, the many times we wanted to give up, and lastly, the undescribable gratitude for the bballer's faith in my idea. i thank you all.

the voices in my head-

Friday, March 07, 2003
7:33 AM

In Retrospect

Perhaps i had been too nasty to the poor half-a-century old security guard who faithfully storms round the school block in the wee hours of the morning like a wandering soul. But perhaps jianming was right, we have to look at matters from his point of view, he doesn't have an active wife to unleash his excess energy, hence the need to bring us on adventurous tours.

On a less grubby note, tomorrow's the big day. Whether our efforts would pay off would depend on that crucial 4 minute and 3 seconds, but somehow i have this pricking feeling that we might screw up majorly, hitting Mr Ang majorly on his face or causing catastrophic damage to the curtains. On the other hand, i can even taste the glares of the 1600 beady eyeballs on our item tomorrow, -shudders- its unnerving!
Lastly, to all who had signed my guestbook below, and the smses and mails wishing us good luck and all, gazillion thanks. i bet we'd need it.

the voices in my head-

Thursday, March 06, 2003
8:19 AM

One Time Too Many

6/3/2003, Thursday
To: Mdm Jennifer Tan
CC: Mr Tang

Late School Activities and Security Guard

I am writing this in regard to various haps I’ve encountered with the school’s security guard, particularly the acrimonious exchange we had last night. May I first present you a completely unbiased account of the factual incident.

We reached school at 8:00pm after getting our attire for Talentime 2003 in the afternoon, and started practising our dance in the Inner Plaza. After two runs of the entire item, the security guard came along and screeched in a voice that pierced the heart of the night, asking us to “not play basketball” in the inner plaza. Seeking a bridge of understanding between higher authorities and ourselves, we approached him to explain amicably that we were not playing basketball, but practising for a dance item, but he walked away and blatantly ignored us. Midway through the third run of our dance, the lights of the inner plaza blacked out. It was either due to a circuit trip or the doings of the security guard, which we strongly believed it being the latter, but nonetheless, we moved our bags, balls, radio, shoes, wallets and all other belongings to the little space between the 02s69 class bench and field.

All was tranquil for awhile, but the peace was short-lived because the security came along once more and fumbled with the main circuit board behind the 02a15 class bench before speeding off. The lights along the entire row of class benches went out, and not only were we interrupted in our schedules, at least 10 other students who were studying at the class benches had their yearning for new knowledge abruptly halted.

First of all, I would have to apologise for causing the catastrophic blacking out of class bench lights, for if there weren’t us in the first place, those 10 students wouldn’t suffer from such treatment. And secondly, the bad timing of our practice.

Nevertheless, our basketball trainings are on Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, while gym fitness training fall on Mondays. Sundays are deemed family days or perhaps to the Christians, a rest day. It is inevitable that our last free day is on Thursday, and we couldn’t shift our practice earlier due to the need for shopping of Talentime attires earlier before the shop closes. In the light that we had voluntarily presented ourselves to entertain the school, couldn’t there had been some leeway in allowing us to use the school’s fantastic facilities to spur our performance to greater heights?

Enough of the frivolous, allow me to continue with our late night adventure with the security guard. At that instant, I plainly saw no reason not to be angry at the security guard. Resembling Osama in a hit and run 911 before escaping into the Taliban mountains, I had seen the security in a similar light. I sped after him, and demanded the lights to be turned on. He screwed up his face, and spat “I don’t care, you get out, it is late.” before turning on me.

I would have loved to deny this, but a factual account must undoubtedly have no slight details left out. So I admit that I did yell at him, and told him that it was within our rights to be in our school compound, practising for a perfectly legal performance. Then he came up with this totally adventurous idea of visiting the management, and knowing that it was grossly cock-and-bull tactic trying to scare us with bombastic words of “management”, I followed him to the school administrative block which he claimed to be the residence of the “management”. Which of course was closed.

I kept up with my demand that the lights be turned back on, for the benefit of our last rehearsal and the ten poor souls who were engrossed in their pursuit of studies until the lights went out. With 9 basketballers behind him, I supposed he had no other choice but to turn the lights back on after a 10 minute tour around the school. Once again, I do apologise for perhaps sending a fifty year old man into fits of fear, but anger had overcome me, and irrationality overwhelmed me.

We resumed the run of our item, but the security guard came along and pressed for the identity of the teacher who authorised our late night activity. I was suffering from a wheezing flu, and I felt all squirmy all over the whole day. I didn’t even turn up at school except for the two lectures (the rational behind the skipping of all other lessons could be explained in another article if requested), and certainly I hadn’t had much energy to engage him in another 10 minute tour nor a verbal argument. It was only then that I decided to call Mr Tang (my physics teacher and the PA/AVA teacher who was in charge of Talentime `03), but he told me that permission could not be granted because students were indeed supposed to leave after 9pm.

The sinking feeling in my heart matched the colossal plummeting of Titanic, for the tables had turned and it was indeed us at fault. I do claim this CS-worthy responsibility, but perhaps the school could point out that students weren’t actually supposed to stay on at the school compound without a teacher’s authorisation after 9pm. More importantly, I do not claim myself having an angelic attitude, on the contrary, I fall outside the parameters of well-behaved students. Rarely would I comment on the attitude of others, but may I gently suggest the school administration to look into the attitude and speech of the security guard.

There had been several occasions which our paths have crossed. In 2002, during the preliminary examination period, many students return to the school to study at the class benches. Forgive me if there had been a misconception on my part, but the security guard had insisted on us leaving the compound even though we were engaged in a perfectly silent study session on a Sunday afternoon. We defied his shrieks and screams using an important invention called the discman, and it was only until the late evening which he shut the circuits once again that we had no other choice but to leave the school. What an irony that in times we refused to attend lessons, there would be CS sessions to turn us over a new leaf, but in times we yearn for knowledge, a security guard would prove to be such a menace.

This isn’t an apology letter, for in my humble opinion, I had (in one of the rare moments) done nothing deplorably wrong. It is just an address to one who manages the Student Affairs, and one who whom I respectfully bridge an amicable relationship. I have had several encounters with the security guard already, and if God wills, may I be blessed with no further adventures with him.

Sincerely,
Lai Wai Kit 02s69

p.s
The security guard referred to as of above is Mr Chow ( he who took the shift of Thurs, 6/3/2003, 8pm – 10pm )
The 10 minute tour to the admin block and back, which the security guard and I exchanged several heated points of personal views, is recorded on a CAM video by a fellow basketballer. The CAM was originally intended for us to view ourselves in the dance, but coincidence is regretted that it should be put to such use. Do refer it for an uncensored version of evidence of such an event occurring.

Which is indeed what i'm going to place on Mdm Jennifer Tan's desk tomorrow morning, if she hadn't stumbled upon this blog before that.

the voices in my head-

Wednesday, March 05, 2003
7:15 AM

Big Boys Diminished

We had our second rehearsal in the auditorium today.
We screwed up our second rehearsal in the auditorium today.
I feel something squirming in me, like a thousand moths kneading my stomach, with the constant prodding reminding me that there would be 1600 eyeballs focused on our item this saturday.
On a lighter note though, we've witnessed the augustness of our rivals, the detached head which seemed to have a life of its own, the grandiosity of Chinese Dance's costumes, the preeminence of vocal cords in full floret.

Is it worth it, let me work it
I put my thang down, flip it and reverse it
If you got a big WheeoOrH let me search ya
To find out how hard I gotta work ya
I put my thang down, flip it and reverse it

Man. We've gotta wOrK iT!

the voices in my head-

Tuesday, March 04, 2003
7:48 AM

Opportunity Costs of OCIP

Sometimes, i don't understand people. Nor myself.
I look forward to training for the whole day, it being the sport that can pump adrenaline, coursing through my veins like a sizzling venom. It being the only thing i'm decent at, it being my passion and my sport.
5 minutes under the scorching sun, like a sizzling venom which fries each surface cell on my bare skin, inevitably sending passion into the inferno and tempers sky high.
i don't know what got into him, i don't know why he lost his cool on that poor j1 who has countable days left in hwachong.
i don't know what got into the other him, who gave me such crap attitude when i told him i had to go. a gazillion explanations attempted that it was for an official reason this time, not valentine's nor talentime. i couldn't yell at him either, for he was my captain. i couldn't punch him too, for he was my friend.
and then i don't know what got into me. so many a times did i remind myself to remain that cheery birdy waikit come what may, but i realised today that it ain't possible when the game's down, faces frown and tempers mount. i should just fuck off and sleep.

the voices in my head-

Sunday, March 02, 2003
7:42 AM

On Proportions

10:40am
"hey, would ya wanna catch a movie later on in the day?"
i spent exactly 6 hours 43 minutes trying to gather the elements of 02s69 for a simple movie. alas, i failed.

6:20pm
"hey, go for a ride on the bikes?"
i spent exactly 2 minutes 30 seconds gathering my poly neighbours for a ride to the Chinese Gardens and back.

Indeed, men for the sake of getting a living forget to live.

the voices in my head-