we cannot change the cards we are dealt,
just how we play the hand.
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
10:17 AM
hello
funny isn't it, when it seems to be the beginning of a fun filled week
and then something someone somewhere somehow screws everything up.
thanks, you know who you are. a word of sincere concern and an enquiry of welfare warms even the coldest heart for a split of a second. indeed, i told you i was tired, and i am. for whom, from what, i know not.
and so i tried to detach myself. from the world and from myself, hurling myself to the empty courts before i get caught up in discussions that are never concluded, decisions that are never made. yet i own not the courts, and i realised, that i do not truly own myself.
for my feelings are not for me to make, nor are they sole subject of my omnipotent self.
it could have been the fatigue. it could have been the results. but frankly, i know that these are trivial in comparison to the spiralling bond that fades into a mist of nothingness. to whom it may concern, of course i acknowledge your passion, understand your passion, and loved it as much as i could, yet how many times have i spoken in your light, while you continue to pursue in astrology and superstition and physical abuse, spearheading nonsensical arguments that only serve to irritate and pester. god bless the world, for such incessant irritation is like a thorn, worse than an outright stab. such little pricks that infuriate and provoke. a word of concern my dear, strength is nothing without control, you know.
i would have beaten someone up today, if that someone hadn't been like myself once. i may not know half of he as well as i should like, but indeed i like less than half of he half as well as he deserves. and today, a spark had ignited a brewing hate long buried in the realms of my heart. i was cold, eyes linen with fury, hands clenched in sweat, face masked with pretence of mirth.
how nice ain't it. the happy waikit. always listening and hardly complaining. an occasional black face and elbows lashed out on courts, yet always ready for fun and more fun.
alas. i fear you know only half of me, so don't bang on it. don't mess around. don't fuck with me. i can screw things up badly enough for you(s) that you wish you had never known me.
some say, my happiness has been as constant as the Northern Star. i looked out of the window just, and found to my dismay, a looming storm. stars lost to the drizzle, the moon masked by the clouds. i am aware it is 3:14, Wed, and perhaps i'd be tired again tomorrow, yet my mind churns in self hate, unwilling to shut up and shut down. my body writhes in agony, one hand clutched at my heart, one hand stretched to the Northern Star, until i find my peace.
good night.
the voices in my head-
Sunday, September 28, 2003
9:29 AM
tinkling jinks
these nights, i've been dreaming a bit. just 2 days ago, i remember myself in bed (clothed) and vernon was attempting to yank me out of it, while fangxi was on the other side tugging at my wrist, apparently wanting me to bake cookies. but my desire to play soccer was greater and i left with vernon anyway, yet i left my wrist with fangxi and she happily went home to bake. my wrist.
then yesterday, i was blessed with a streak of good luck but it left me with a chilling nightmare. i dreamt that we were playing mahjiong in the middle of a soccer field naked (don't ask), and jingfeng was horribly pissed at my incessant wins, ergo his desire to chase me half the length of a field with a chopper. lucky for me, raymond popped out of the grass and threw a mahjiong tile at jingfeng, and. i woke up.
been reading LOTR the past few hours, i realised that the language of the elves strangely resembles the deep engravings of the mahjiong pieces which i've carressed for the past 36 hours.
in any case, i'm am currently 30 dollars richer, and will thereby proceed to disappear for the next few days, resurfacing as a waikit who's bloodlusted by the shamans, hoarse from the singing, cycloned by the talons, peeling from the beach, assaulted by the return of papers, shagged from the courts, stunned by the mountain king, robbed from the shopping and hopefully, remain unboffed by the excitement of it all.
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
9:10 AM
Great weaknesses, Weak greatness
we marched towards magehaven in great confidence, chest strut in importance, nose in the air. no one could beat us, or perhaps just once in a blue baboon. so us foursome, joshua jingfeng raymond and i stormed into that blooming lanshop in an attempt to boost our ego (yet again) before embarking on the physics of fluids.
alas, a seemingly irritating splinter in our eyes they had seemed, but they proved to be a greater challenge than we had reckoned. it was passed off as luck, then dismissed as lag but the inevitable truth set in when we lost six straight games in a row and perhaps the splinter had swelled to a plank and we had lost our eyeballs.
we were stunned. the emotion that surged through us was so alien, so foreign, that for a wild moment we pondered the inane possibilities of them cheating. but rational loomed over us, and i was determined not to be trampled so badly in my life again. josh raymond and i slugged back to school, bought a diskette, before returning to magehaven to save those replays. you might have raped us today, and i thank you for the brutally humbling experience. of course, i salute you four, zhangpeng joel weicheng and another. only for now, that is.
we had a good old chat at the reading room today, for 3 whole glorious hours. it was the sort of chat when you opened up your mind and soul in susceptivity and denudation that one shares anything and everything. then you look in the mirror when you get home and realise that your heart had swollen from the secrets ungraved, gossips shared and souls uncovered. i realised, in the midst of that pulchritudinous palaver, that i hate losing.
of course, one cannot expect to win all the time, but i clearly discern the times of leisure and competition. strangely, it has always been my greatest weakness and strength. it gave me the burst of energy as i took on the mirages of macritchie at cross country, it gave me that extra spurt of jump for each game, it gave me what i needed for my innermost desires. yet i pondered about the times i had emerged the loser, my face would contort into ugliness and my soul would squirm amidst deviltry. at times, such testing moments would spur me to greater heights but more often than not, i would retreat to a corner and wish the walls would swallow me up.
in retrospect, each of my weakness would somehow writhe its way into my strength. a sentimental old fool i had always been, debating the possibilities of the what ifs and if onlys of the past. an ocean of wasted time had been washed over the redundant musings yet it is such thoughtful thoughts that carved me as i am today. eureka, isn't this old fool responsible for keeping in contact with the kids in china still? isn't this old fool responsible for organising reunions and gatherings?
and heaving a heavy sigh, i realised that it edges more and more towards being a weakness. and the great strength and berserk zest i used to possess when i was a full fledged social rep last year slowly fades into a mercurial nothingness as i grow.
and is it not said that i may have many friends? my greatest strength, some might admit, to have many to rely on in times of difficulty. yet it has been facilely forgotten that i too, am human. and i have only 24 hours. i wished i had more time to spend with the people i so love, yet it always boils down to tough choices between this or that, and with less time comes less jest and jape, while friends swivel into aquaintances amidst a time of neglect.
an echo from nature, as josh raymond and i received an sms from yuhao to meet up on friday. while julia told me to tell the class about swensens buffet. i know not what would happen this friday afternoon, and it is ironic that the greatest philosopher this century might say that "I always tried to turn every disaster into an opportunity." yet as a class social rep i always seemed to turn every outing opportunity into a disaster.
on a lighter note, even my great asset of height proved to be a weakness at times. i once loved a short girl, yet i never dared tell her for fear of the absurdity. and the numerous occasions i would hit my head upon the bus ceiling and lose those endangered brain cells, i might have taken 3 S papers for all you know.
indeed, frederik might say that his greatest strength is the absence of weakness, but quoting henry beecher, greatness lies, not in being strong, but in the right using of strength, and strength is not used rightly when it serves only to carry a man above his fellows for his own solitary glory.
indeed, he is the greatest whose strength carries up the most hearts by the attraction of his own. may i be happy always.
the voices in my head-
Friday, September 19, 2003
8:30 AM
to whom it may concern:
the stranger came upon weathertop hill
a curtain of rain veiled his view
and the swirl of litter danced in pirouette
foundering amidst a painful miasma
he stretched palms out, arms wide
and heard the wind whisper to the rain...
Perhaps love is like a resting place, a shelter from the storm
It exists to give you comfort, it is there to keep you warm
And in those times of trouble when you are most alone
The memory of love will bring you home
Perhaps love is like a window, perhaps an open door
It invites you to come closer, it wants to show you more
And even if you lose yourself and don't know what to do
The memory of love will see you through
Love to some is like a cloud, to some as strong as steel
For some a way of living, for some a way to feel
And someone say love is holding on and some say letting go
And some say love is everything, and some say they don't know
Perhaps love is like the ocean, full of conflict, full of pain
Like a fire when it's cold outside, thunder when it rains
If I should live forever, and all my dreams come true
My memories of love will be of you
and as the last unsung note escaped
the stranger was lost in his hiatus of thought
stumbling down weathertop hill
he discovered a wonder beyond the spate and gust
the fountains mingle with the river,
and the rivers with the ocean
the winds of heaven mix forever,
with a sweet emotion
nothing in the world is single;
all things by a law divine
in one another's being mingle
why not I with thine?
the voices in my head-
Wednesday, September 17, 2003
8:54 AM
10 interesting facts i found out today
1. the wooden figurine on my 2nd floor has a breast smaller on its left
2. so does the marble statue on the first floor
3. an oversized bug flutters across my keyboard
4. chengyi is fat
5. three ghouls, a crypt fiend and one hero can take out an army of footmen and riflemen
6. the oversized bug is now wingless
7. laser beams, intensity meters, carbon paper and other nanapok apparatus should not be used in physics design practicals
8. my coach is 68
9. its turning tomorrow in 5 seconds as i type this today
10. the bug is dead.
the voices in my head-
Saturday, September 13, 2003
11:06 AM
MAF
today was a disappointing disappointment. i went to school in search of dearest Mrs Tam Beng Beng but despite her size, she was nowhere to be found. then MAF came like an ominous tide and people milled in, but the 30th. oh wait, 31st? or maybe 39th i think. anyway. this year's council couldn't bring us together and ignite that spark in us, unlike last year's which made us sing the songs in such ardent ecstasy despite the trickling perspiration amidst the curtain of rain. or perhaps its just impending prelims looming aloft.
i must say jillian's a great dance partner, despite her fervent confessions of not being able to dance. and of course, thousand apologies for twirling you into a mist of giddiness, along with my inability at doing the helicopter stunt with my inapt height.
then wonders upon miracles, we decided to go watch pirate of the carbeblahblah but disasters upon catastrophes, there were no avaliable timings at all beneath the blue baboonic moon. and so we struggled, whether to eat. whether to go home. whether to mug. whether to lan. but of course, the most painful moral struggles are not those between good and evil, but between the good and the lesser good. and so we resisted the temptation to head home and plunge for the books, instead murdering several prawns and sotongs at 6th avenue.
anyway, the coming days mark a beginning of an end, has it not been said that the secret to a rich life is to have more beginnings than endings?
who knows. i may be able to buy that damned british india shirt after all.
the voices in my head-
Friday, September 12, 2003
10:59 PM
on love and hates
i fell in love yesterday.
alas, of all such ungodly timings, may i be cursed with a thousand elephanty farts for stumbling into that wretched familiar emotion when my prelims steadily yet slowly creep up my sleeves.
and worst of all, it costs $166.
i hate british india.
the voices in my head-
Monday, September 08, 2003
9:38 AM
Of prune and preen
i take back all that bellyaches about no one taking me seriously. its nice not to be serious, and no one taking you seriously even when the need arises. at most, one would suffer a big black bruise when an idiot persistently pinches you as you tell her seriously that it hurts. or at worst, one would have to endure humiliation even when he seriously denies executing a lethal fart.
rather, its nice to be deliriously unserious, and when you post this little doleful entry on realisations, everyone's fussing over you. i feel like a holy prune.
on another note, i had a conversation with a highly sophisticated intellect minutes ago.
[yAnDaO_17] hiz! care to intro you?
[aWak3n|nG] 18f, very big
[yAnDaO_17] y big. u fat ar? i lyke fat girls, but i quite yandao 1 la hehe. r u big here too?
[aWak3n|nG] i'm not fat dear, just big there.
[yAnDaO_17] hehe, can i beomce your dear too. i like girlgirl with big there
[aWak3n|nG] really? i like guys with big there too.
[yAnDaO_17] you want to c mine?
[aWak3n|nG] can i?
[yAnDaO_17] of cos! wan to trade hp no?
[aWak3n|nG] 99521635
[yAnDaO_17] dearie darling, i call you in 3 minutes!
[aWak3n|nG] apparently you don't have a big there
[yAnDaO_17] huh?
[aWak3n|nG] i was speaking of a brain my dear.
[yAnDaO_17] what you meaning?
[yAnDaO_17] oei, ansew leh
[yAnDaO_17] please, i realy like bigbig theres
[yAnDaO_17] fuck you la bitch
and so it ended, my entertainment for the night.
the voices in my head-
Friday, September 05, 2003
9:52 AM
Realisations
i was walking up my slope tonight, when i actually realised how long the road is. perhaps half of a seemingly idiotic i was on the phone, speaking to a terribly bored friend, yet the other half of my attention was bent on calcitrating this crummy piece of twig up my slope. and then i told my friend about my exigent mission and she told me i was weird.
after hanging up as she probably crept amidst her pillows from my droning utterance, i sat at the park opposite my house. and i actually realised how eerie it was. yet beneath that uncanny atmosphere, a deafening silence and disturbing tranquility enveloped my soul and it was then that i realised it was the same bench i was sitting on years back. and perhaps years after.
in retrospect, i think i'm turning weird too. ranieri unnerved me yesterday as she pricked my past out of me, and i remembered distinctly amidst a blurry of words that i mumbled something about no one taking me seriously because i had always been happy; and how i wished i were serious always and at times when i needed people to be serious about me, they would.
and then i stopped myself. for that i had been in the past, where i had been someone i didn't like. yet the impending days to come seemed to have breached the invisible omnipresent wall that divided the relentlessly happy me and my fiery past. i realise i'm turning dangerously weird.
i realised i'm losing my nuts too. not those between the legs, but the nuts and bolts which interlock the mazes of my mind. these days when i'm amongst my dearest friends i would close my eyes for some wild moments, half praying they would all vanish, wishing i could open my eyes and find myself alone. yet the moment i hurl myself in solitude, the books before me would sprout legs and start dancing, all the while wagging their white tongues in mockery.
such contradictive emotions had never raged so powerfully in me before, it was as if someone had died. but i would never know, for i never suffered (fortunately or perhaps otherwise) the loss of a dear one. and then it dawned upon me, perhaps it was the death of something dear in me. yet it wasn't as if all this were ripped from a television scene, where i was the omnipotent viewer, all sophisticated and knowledgable and unfeeling. this time, i was at a funeral, perhaps even mine, but i wouldn't know. why, i hadn't attended one before.
i couldn't play basketball today. i would embrace defeat in the face of inferiority, but in the face of deceit and compulsive anger, i saw eyelids linen with cold ardour, clairvoyant eyes haunting me defiantly. i realised i could only see myself in my opponents.
in reminiscence, i realised i had lost everything i once loved. i could still picture myself carressing the white keys and blacks in etherealness. i could still remember making the base line shots with ease before my right wrist snapped. i could still remember loving the ones who had seemingly loved love. and the things which had too, seemingly embosomed me. yet these days, the early hours would wane a crystallised memory while the tender night would only bring about dolorous visions; or perhaps, i had not lost everything i had loved; on the contrary, i had not loved anything to begin with.
i realised too, that mugging has stripped my ideals off the plinths, hacked it into fragmented pieces of dreams and nostalgia, and enslaved me to an eternity of longing. even my blog entries have a topic sentence now, followed by examples and quotations, a wee bit of elaboration, and a concluding statement.
and pray tell, i had a terrible vision this morning. it was a mirror.
more of me seems to disappear somewhere, somehow, and i'm morphing into somewhat vacuous matter, devoid of emotion, devoid of thought, i realised.
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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