La la la, whee

This has been possibly the craziest weekend of my life — one is so elated, one has to cleverly allude to the Classics and speak in elaborate convolutions much like crafting grandiose arabesques.

One shall speak of things in reverse chronology; memory is becoming as fleeting and transient as vapour in the wind. One has joined the 9-minutes club after training for the 2.4 km run, but one has to qualify that the 9 minutes here refers to anything from 9.00 to 9.59, so please feel invited to take your pick. Earlier in the afternoon, the master class that was attended bore fruition, but lo! For the quantities of beauty that expelleth from the steel womb of the concert hall overwhelmed and consumed one. Sing, O Muse, of the excesses of consumerism, of the lust of the eyes, of the weaknesses of the flesh! Once again, one lay beholden to the monstrosity of ION Orchard while perambulating through its massive interior, gazing at the endless columns that shamed the Parthenon and spat at the ruins of Heraion.

(Beest not mistaken — the charms of shopping at ION allureth my fancy, but my wallet hemorrhageth so! Did mine eyes tear at the state of my personal economy.) Sing, O Muse, of the Mushroom Pizza I had at NYDC! Sing of the intoxicating garlic sauce and the beastly heap of mozzarella that smothered a Mount Olympus of mushrooms! Sing of the generosity that everyone displayed in cheese-sprinkling their oven-baked delights! It was a cheesy feast nonpareil. Queer, in various ways, but still cheesy.

But I beseech thou to sing of Saturday's madness, for behold! We have ignited the flames of Temasek, festooned the hallowed halls of this green institution with sweet garlands of victory, of the triumph of destroying the Cerberus! This erstwhile plain of Lethe has become a palace for celebration and feasting! Sing of how we came in first for Saturday's presentation, of how our flag was hoisted up! Sing of the Sophists, their sage axiomatic sayings, and their quest for knowledge! (Thou has to understand that the plenaries were unbearable as always.) Sing of how it has finally come to pass, of how half this nightmare is now but a shadow caught in the past! Sing also of the joy of movie theatres, O Muse, and the contributions of Epicurus! Sing of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and its blockbuster delights!

Sing now, O Muse, of the horror as the week descends into Dionysian-style madness once again, of the cyclic nature of things and the futility of hope! Sing finally of my labours with EoM and Chinese Essays!