random updates!

1) I have new spects
2) I have new hair
3) I still love white chocolate
4) I have the face of a disgusted onlooker.

Well. Tomorrow is a monday.

Bright new week ahead?

I need escape.

My escape would be Christ.

I still love this blog.

I really do.

I love it like I love white chocolate.

Yum.

White chocolate is the new mars bars.

I want to go to Japan.

Or UK.

Or NY.

(rambles on)

Singles' Awareness Day

Tomorrow is Singles' Awareness Day. Wear a black tulip to show your concern in this area of forgotten society.

Or was that some other flower? I forgot.

So I'm spending Valentine's Day alone. Yep. Roses? Song dedications? Clichéd confessions of undying love? Excitement and surprise? I don't really give a damn. Everyone's level of dying anticipation wouldn't really affect me, I always tell myself the night before. Afterall, what is Valentine's Day but an event on the 14th of February made up by die-hard romantics as a means of self-gratification? It is pointless and depressing. Perhaps this day might serve as a reminder to jilted hopefuls of the existance of reality. Unfortunately.

So today I stayed back til around 5 pm to do roses for the Valentine's choir fund-raising project. Think: non-stop wrapping of 700 roses. Think: Take rose. Insert into carrier. Cut thorns. Cut leaves. Trim Stem. Apply cotton wool and aluminium foil. Set aside. Repeat seven hundred times. Think: bloodstained hands.

It's rather depressing to realize that your friends are receiving these wonderful, lovingly packaged roses, not you. They will receive them in front of you. You become the accidental audience of an act of psuedo-self-glorification and display of affection. You grimace; does everything on Valentine's day have to be so pro-social, pro-procreation, anti-life-of-bitter-bachelorhood/bachelorettehood? In this sense, you are packaging and getting ready for your own lack
of love life.

Or maybe am I just describing every Valentine's Day I have ever had? Should I start mentally preparing for a destined life of no dates, no chocolates and no candle-light meals? I sometimes delude myself.

Argh dry feet

Right now, I feel extremely uncomfortable because:
1) I'm sitting on Ikea's most uncomfortable chair ever produced.
2) I'm thirsty and have a longing for ginger ale.
3) My feet look dry and cracked.
4) My feet are dry and cracked.
5) Because they are dry and cracked, they really hurt. I feel that my feet have turned 67 years old while the rest of my body is still fourteen.
6) Tired. Drowsy. After tarvelling to four corners of Singapore in 6? 7? hours.
7) My wrists feel raw from resting them on 10 year old wooden tables.
8) I think I had strained leg muscles while sprinting during P.E.
9) I am rather excited (in an uncomfortable way) for the first prelim round of debate tomorrow. THBT schools sould prohibit students from creating blog websites. The irony of things.

Well. What can I say. I've seen rather disconcerting displays of human behaviour today. By disconcerting, I mean that it confuses one to think that a person can both display positive and negative behaviour, and that a person is usually not totally bad. But sometimes it is out of a selfish desire that brings out the worst in people. Like, for example, how I have seen people beg, steal or snatch food from their peers. These are incidents that take place in first-world, democratic nations, mind you. They have money to buy anything they want, but still want to resort to such annoying means to eat, for example, potato chips or fries.

These are the same people whom I have seen showing appalling levels of disrespect for their teachers or peers, the same people who swear at anything, the same people who make life tough for everyone. However, these are also the same people who balance it out by being nice to you in the end. I hate them for muddling my emotions and opinions all the time. I love them for making my day, sometimes.

Yeah. So today, I went on this afternoon-long trip to Fort Canning, to Changi Prison Museum and then to the Kranji War Memorial. But this shouldn't make me feel obliged to write down every single minute detail of my journey that had me doing lots and lots of messaging to people who need to know things, and saw me going through some soul-searching. ( well, sort of, anyway. )

I have a history test tomorrow.

That makes me feel worse.

I am special and God loves me.

okay. and one more thing.

FINALLY completed Minutes for the committee meeting.

I hope I'll sleep well. Hmm.

i miss being young, says my old soul.

I'm trying, very hard, to maintain my sanity while caught up in this whirlwind of homework, assignments, friends, tests, money, material stuff etc. (offtopic-just remembered that some classmate of mine actually speaks 'etc' as YEE-TEE-SEE. I find it rather sadly-pathetically-funny. Whoops. Shouldn't really go on rambling. cuz' I'm such a good student I've just learnt today from English lesson about sticking to my Topic Sentence. )
So, anyway, it suddenly occurred to me that:

1) This year is My Streaming Year of Great Doom.
2) Next year is going to be The Year Of Laughing at Short People in Long Pants
and,
3) My bag would turn 4 years old next year. It already has a very cool vintage-wash look. Sort of cool. Maybe not. Nevermind.

Stalker Update:
- Apparently trying to get closer and closer to A*****? Has she popped the question to him? Sources tell me that she gives the Look Of Death And Great Darkness whenever some other girl talks to him.
- Stalker Sighting with *someone* who is *close* to her and is *male* at the Bus Stop Of Great Disgust (the one after the overhead bridge at Hougang Ave. 3? or was it 8? But the same road that the Bowen bus stop was on anyway.
- Stalker seen staring at S*****e during SPA, Physics, English, Literature and PC.
- According to a reliable friend, Stalker will no longer be able to stand next (or try to stand as close as possible) to S***** during CCA because of a switch in rows.
- Might be smelling the chairs and tables and bags and books of the Victims.

Then again, I musn't try to sound like the GossipGirl novels that my sister loves so much. And Stalker shouldn't feature so much in my post, although it's (sort of) tragically funny to talk about her ambitious ideas (of being despo)

I have lots of stories 'to save for the grandchildren'.

Oh no. Zahran is leaving 203 tomorrow for 204 because of an error in the timetable. Sucky sucky suckiness. =|

and 204 happens to have an overwhelming supply of 'extra people'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Homework left as of 10.40 PM -
1) E Maths TB Questions
2) Chinese Journal
3) Literature Speech about 'starting school later in the day' that I should be able to come out with in 3 minutes.
4) Minutes of the Brothers' Retreat Committee Meeting.

I am not looking forward to tomorrow because-
1) Choir. Sick of practising and trying to tolerate many people's nonsense which they think is totally funny. Sick of doing Choreography for the less-than-perfect musical. But they have to be done. Argh.
2) Maths test. SCALES. I totally forgot how to do scales. Tragic, really.
3) I think there's Art and I haven't wrapped up my art folio yet. Argh.
4) I'm disgusted and tired already of looking at so many faces-of-bu-shuangness in school.

I should be looking forward to school tomorrow because-
1) I'll get to see all the people that I love and care for deeply (in a severely platonic way, mind you. Don't get too weirdly excited. )
2) Umm. Maybe the first point was already a good incentive?
3) TGIF. ?
4) Oh. And my cousin is having a farewell party before she leaves with her husband and kids for the US of A !

smiles (:

the mental block

I can't think of anything to write right now. Probably semi-brain-dead already with the Great Migrane of 06'. Anyway I'll try my best to write stuff that everyone understands, like accusing people of tearing your best friends away from you, from talking about people who maliciously backstab couples such that in the end, they tearfully breakup and experience intense emotional pain, from trying to understand how to act young and obtain that youthful energy that inhabits so many people who are of the same age but with a much different mentality, observing their youthful rage boil down to a simmer and in the end, occasionally becoming friends again, and, playing the part of Audience, watch the slightly comic tragedy of Life unfold before me, with different intertwined plots that spark so much originality, it is the source of inspiration for most of my essays . Unfortunately, these are prose that are often unable to be understood by anyone except myself; the storyline has an overdone essence of what Showbizz calls 'Juicy'. Too much juice cause stains and perhaps render your $80 Stüssy Hoodie to a permanent place in the relatively 'inexplorable' areas of the closet. Too constrained is the medium of pen and foolscape paper to convert the odd, inexplicable musing into writing for the world to read. Perhaps my thoughts will fade over time in my memory. Ouch, screams a distant voice in my head. It is familiar, but I forget and move on.