Childishness, and what not.

2006-10-24T02:46:00.000+08:00

How could you?

...

How could you?
Cold-blooded.

For God's sake - no, for your sake - he's committing suicide!
And he's not aware of it.
That, is none of my business.
Or at least, I guess you wouldn't want it to be my business anyway.
Would you?

But the fact that you're not aware of it as well...
Really bugs me.

Guess this's the end.
Or did you hint about the end long ago?
And unfortunately I, being unbelievably stupid, failed to realize it?

I don't know.

I don't care.

And it's not that I don't want to know or care.
I've tried.
But after so many failed attempts, I thought, why should I care about anything at all?

It's you.
You never wanted to know or care about anything.
Or at least in your words, you didn't want to know or care now.
So exactly when does this abstract period of time called now end?
I don't know.

My guess?
It starts, ends, pauses and resumes whenever you please.

And coincidentally, you start when I end and end when I start.
Wow. Impressive huh?

I try to give you space, you act blur and avoid my questions.
Or answer smartly.
Which basically means answering without answering the question.

I put some pressure, you say you need more time.

I stop all the nonsense and try to make things as normal as it once was between us, giving you all the time you need in the world, you try to be funny. First him then him then him.

You're not the only one who has the right to be pissed and frustrated you know!

Cos if you haven't realized, many times, many many times, many many many times, I shut up, I speak up, I do many things for you, just to make sure that you're not hurt, even if it involves hurting myself, which in actual fact happens 99% of the time.

Don't tell me not to do it.
I just have to.
And I'm pretty sure you know the reason.

If you think that I've been very noisy and irritating, imagine.
Cos all that noise and irritatingness is only 1%.
Really.

I don't ask much. You don't need to be nice to me. You can treat me below-averagely.
Just, as long as you're aware of it, don't hurt me, cos I believe the pain I've endured for you, is much more than the smiles you've given me.

Wanted to post this last night.
But something was wrong with the connection.
Doesn't really matter I guess.

Just hope you get the message (:

2006-10-17T23:17:00.000+08:00

Friday, 13 October 2006, I do not intend to, and never will forget this day, never.

It was the farewell assembly for the class of 2006. It was the farewell assembly for me. It was the farewell assembly for us.

Some of us have been in this school for ten years, most had four, and others like me, had only two. For those who have spent more than half of their lives in Catholic High, it was a special day. To some of them, it meant freedom; to others, it was a loss – a loss of security, of warmth and of a second family. It was difficult. Equally testing the parting was for the rest of us, and of course, our teachers too.

Although there will doubtlessly be those who have long been numbed by the countless batches of students lost, there will always be those sentimental souls, however few, who see no disparity between their pupils and their children. Every year, hundreds come and hundreds go, yet they could not but accept the fact that the hundreds who have come will one day leave, as those whose vacancies in the student body they have filled. Those who shed tears during the assembly are those who are strong; and those who are unfeeling, are weak, for they have been defeated by themselves as their fear of separation from their loved ones have crushed their true innermost feelings, numbing them over the years. Not feeling the least bit sad about a parting, is a sin.

I was extremely emotional throughout the assembly. From the instant Mr Leong began his speech on behalf of the school and of the teachers, I felt my tears escaping their glands. I tried to hold them back. I thought I had succeeded. Then Ben Tay passed me the mobile phone, and my eyes moistened once again.

I wondered when we would do anything like that again – playing Golf Tour on Hadi’s phone while listening to Mr Leong delivering his address; pretending, very poorly, to look innocent when Mr Wang walked past; attempting, equally abysmally, to make the phone invisible from his sight by hiding it behind the booklet; and laughing out loud at our own ingenuity when he left with a raised eyebrow and that familiar suspicious glance at our weirdly hilarious facial expressions. I smiled at the thought, then abruptly, my vision blurred as tears gushed into my eyes again.

I rested my forehead on the back of the chair in front of me to conceal my reddened eyes. I told Ben that I needed to concentrate on playing the game. It was a lame excuse, but surprisingly provoked no doubt from him. I stared at the phone for twenty seconds, half hoping that my tears would ebb, but they did not. Hastily, I ended my turn with a 296-yard-shot and returned the phone to him. I pretended to yawn, covering my mouth and rubbing my tears away with my fingertips as inconspicuously as possible.

During movie time, I was touched. Someone as technology-illiterate as our form teacher, Mr Leong, had actually made a video about us, for us. Simple as it was, I cried. Nobody noticed. I guess they were all trying hard to stabilize their emotions as well, not daring to look at anyone, fearing that someone might notice the glint of a teardrop in their eyes.

We are, after all, boys. It is not a matter of pride or ego. It is the unwillingness to reveal any sign of weakness or vulnerability to our brothers and teachers, for Catholic High has taught us to be robust gentlemen, and of all 1382 days since our first day here, there can be no better day and occasion to show what Catholic High has matured us into than the farewell assembly.

I have tried to hold back my tears. I have failed. I have cried. But now, I realize that I was stupid to suppress my sorrow and my reluctance to leave my school, my second home, for all great things must come to an end, and this is, for me, the end for the greatest thing of all, Catholic High.

Thank you, Catholic High. I believe I can fly.

2006-10-01T17:51:00.000+08:00

Thanks.
And sorry.

You know who you are.

I wonder if you still read my blog though.
I wonder if you'll still read it after what I just did to you.

But I read yours.
Everyday.
Every single day.

Till I can memorize that story.
Can't memorize it backwards yet.
But maybe soon.

I remember the date.
Tuesday, August 22.
It's now one month and nine days.

I've been tagging with many stupid names.
I miss your entries.

I miss you.
I miss your smile.
I miss your funny laugh.

I see you almost everyday.
But I still miss you.
Ironic?
Nope.
Not at all.

Won't give up.

I know I'm selfish.
I know you have other worries.
Other concerns.
Other more urgent stuff to deal with.
But I can't help it.

You're right.
My life's not all about you.

How can it be all about you?
I would've died of hunger and thirst long ago if it was all about you.

But it's mostly about you.
You wanna see my sms inbox?
You wanna see my msn message history?
You wanna see my iTunes play count of a certain song?

Sometimes I love your hints.
Sweetness.

Sometimes I hate them.
Confusion.

This time it's neither.
Cos there weren't any hints.
You spit it straight into my face.

I called.
You had nothing to say.
I had a lot to say.
I tried to get the words out.
I remained silent.
I said bye.
Silence.
You hung up.
Without even saying bye.
Guess you really have nothing to say huh?

I get you.
You give wrong hints cos you're confused.
I understand.

And I'm sorry for stupidly analyzing things wrongly.
But how am I supposed to know when you're confused and when you're not?

I don't want to analyze things wrongly again.
Cos I know it hurts you.

You keep hinting.
But you never give me an answer.
And you keep telling me not to think so much.
How?
You leave me a question.
Without an answer.
And I'm not supposed to think about it?

And when your answer differs so much from your hints...

I'm speechless.

Sometimes no clues are better than wrong clues.

I have a one-in-two chance of getting it right without any clues.
But a wrong clue turns it into a zero-in-two chance.

To worsen matters.
The clue was given by you.

You say you have nothing to say.

What d'you think I have to say?

2006-09-24T16:51:00.000+08:00

[ Unicode (UTF-8) ]

星稀之夜
惟我伴飛雪
寂寞季節
隨你無聲的離別
風戲落葉
初吻的那一頁
心詩難滅

陪妳走絲綢之路
妳說妳並不孤獨
路兩側無情的秋樹
聽不進我灑淚傾訴

跟我走絲綢之路
我害怕先甜後苦
我嘗試誠心地祝福
卻只能被窩裏偷哭

2006-08-04T21:05:00.000+08:00

"Why not toys then?" she suggested, "I want my Daddy to be the best toy-maker in the world!"

He gazed intently into her dark brown eyes gleaming with anticipation for a second or two, and nodded to her with a beam of satisfaction.

"Thanks sweetheart, come here and give Daddy a big hug," he replied.

Being unsuccessful in his career as a mechanical engineer, he turned towards the toy-making industry. With his experience and expertise, he quickly specialized in designing motorized toys, toys of mild violence, toys of destruction - toys such as guns.

His fame and fortune amplified with his burgeoning career. He had indeed realized his daughter's dream of becoming one of the best toy-makers in the world, but unfortunately, they were toys of brutality and sadism.

"Honey, they're still just toys! They won't harm anybody," was all he could say to reassure her time and again.

What made his acquaintance after work one day was an awful reality he could not but accept. Sprawled on the floor of his personal workshop was his daughter, motionless and very much dead.

Staring at the monster that had so callously killed her, he struggled to verbalize his mixed feelings of helplessness and repentance, but all he managed to emit was faint noises of self-accusation and intense grief as tears of anguish streamed down his cheeks. A soft thud broke the deafening silence as he fell to his knees. He let out an indistinct whimper, not unlike that of an injured dog, and embraced her so closely that she would have suffocated if she were alive.

He made a frantic attempt to seize the very pistol, resting sinisterly on the floor, that had robbed the life of his loved one. Without hesitation, he directed it to his right temple and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, thrice - yet all he heard was the funny clicking sounds of an unloaded revolver...

She entered his workshop as he had carelessly left it unlocked. She spotted his assiduously completed X-69 lying handsomely on the table. "... They won't harm anybody," she vividly remembered Daddy's words.

Stretching her fingers to grip the heavy toy firmly with both hands, she took a shaky aim at the wall and fired. The sole bullet left in the gun ricocheted off the wall and in the next split second, she saw death, disguised as an innocent marble, rocketing towards her forehead. Before her blood had completely frozen, and before she dropped the toy in shock, she was dead. Blood was oozing out from between her eyes - wide open, yet lifelessly bloodcurdling.

Was it really just a toy, or a ruthless murderer masquerading as one? The mere thought that it was he who created that weapon he called a toy left him wallowing in the valley of eternal guilt. Was he the killer of his only child?

An everlasting flame of detestation for toy guns burned in his heart. Conflicting feelings of passion for his profession and hatred for his creations finally drove him into an asylum.

Were they, after all, just toys?

2006-07-04T15:23:00.000+08:00

I thought it was reliable with this website given there!

http://science.nasa.gov/headlines/y2003/25aug_closeencounter.htm

And yes, this website exists and it's the official NASA website. But guess what?

Take a closer look, 27 August 2003, the year is 2003! Idiots. Once again, I've proven myself as gullible as ever, if not worse =p

I mean, is this supposed to be a prank e-mail? Or did some guy just happen to stumble upon the site and thought he had made the stupendousest discovery on Earth and went forwarding the e-mail to 10 million friends? Now NASA'd be wondering why there's suddenly a super shoot-up in astro-telescope sales, thanks to the guy.

Good luck to you people who've received the e-mail and bought your telescope(s) before you read this post (: Cheer up, you can use it to look at... people skydiving?

2006-07-04T14:57:00.000+08:00

It's been so long since that last post, and I've forgotten what was supposed to be continued. So yeah, it'll stop there I guess =p

Just received an e-mail:

At 09:51 universal time (UT) on August 27th, Earth makes its closest approach to Mars in nearly 60,000 years. The two worlds, center-to-center, will be just 56 million kilometers apart - a short distance on the scale of the solar system. The last people to come so close to Mars were Neanderthals.

Yep, if you miss it, it's another 60,000 years people (:

2006-06-29T01:58:00.000+08:00

It's 1.20 AM.

SS paper's tomorrow. I haven't started revising. Unlike many others who haven't finished, I haven't started. Chief reason: I didn't turn up for holiday remedials cos of my 107-day MC, so when Mr Krishnan gave us the Revision Kit after one Maths (or is it Physics?) remedial, I, duh, didn't get it. So now I'm waiting for Weei to finish his essay writing for me to kop his Revision Kit. Unfortunately, he seems to be having a lotta fun with Chua and MJ next door, so his RK seems deserted and he's gonna finish it at 4.00 AM and I'll finish it at 6, what the hell?! Siao.

I need inspiration for blogskinning.

I've got a pathetic six people online on MSN, no, Windows Live Messenger now. It's a new low record. Six is like, six. Pathetic.

I'm fed up. I'm tired. I'm sick of this.

I'm tired. I'm fed up. I'm sick of this again.

Why the hell do we study? Yeah we all know that, get good grades, earn a lotta money, be a doctor, lawyer, engineer, own a big house, have great sex on a great bed, have great children cos of great sex, have great grandchildren cos of great children and the list goes on... But no, it ends too. Everything that has a start has an end, so when does it end? When we die. Unfortunately, no one's gonna die greatly, at least not in Singapore society.

So you see, I've conlcuded that education is a waste of time, at least according to the way Singapore puts it, it is. Eight years in Malaysia and going to school has always been fun. Not even two years here, and waking up freakin' early in the morning is a chore. You be the judge.

I've lost interest in studies since I came here. It's like, just gone. No more motivation, no more will, no more fun - to study. I don't know what's causing this, but c'mon people, I'm a real live example myself.

No I don't mean Malaysian education is better. It's only funner. Singapore education gives me a better future though, with my O's an A's. I mean, who the hell knows what SPM is? Some Pathetic Malaysian exam? But du zhong life is incomparable, trust me (: The memories stay, forever.

Memories? Reality! I'm here and that's something I can't change, so I'll just have to acept the fact that I'm paid to study and mug hard for my Prelims and my O's. No I won't :p I'll be paid to study, but I won't be mugging hard. Who says you need to mug hard to be paid to study? The limit's a d - i - s - t - a - n - t 20 points from my current 6 points, I can't be 3.33 times worse then my current standard, can I? Not anytime soon anyway, so relax.

To be continued...

2006-06-25T15:03:00.000+08:00

Done! (:

I need more colours. I've got no colour sense, at all :p

2006-06-25T14:10:00.000+08:00

I'm using the computer lab's cable now, which is actually illegal :p But law doesn't really matter anymore after so many excruciating blogless weeks (:

I somehow magicked myself to this driver site yesterday and voila! Fixed almost everything in my laptop. Almost. Can't get Microsoft Update to work properly. Anyone out there have any idea why? It's not that important though =p

Windows Live Messenger is plain weird. First of all, the name's changed. Then worse it's so squarish. And it just gives me the creeps for no particular reason. Just... creepy :s

I feel like changing my skin. No not my skin. My blog skin. This is so... bloody? Not bloody bloody bloody, but reddy bloody reddy kind of bloody. You get the point. And somehow I've found a new liking for orange (: No it's not gay. I just like it, ok? No law says guys can't like orange. No law says guys must like blue or black. No law says guys can't dye their hair green :p

So my new skin's orange ((: Coming soon. Under construction.

Leg acted up last night. No, evening till night :p But it's okay now, at least right now as I'm typing. Yes! I remember, it was your tissue lah. And somebody else's water. Then the crazy guy-in-charge asked if you were my ... And I laughed a short and painful laugh after that, cos once I started laughing, my leg sorta got affected by the pulses of longitudinal air waves, so I stopped immediately. I remember! Cos it was just so funny. I mean, I didn't even know you were you then! Haha (=

Okay, drop the topic. Oh no, I see a big fat Haha glaring down at me!

It's 2.30 PM and I still haven't had my lunch :z Okay lah, this is very very very early already, considering once when I had lunch at 7.30 PM =p

I'm so aimless. Talking about this and that and back to this and then that and suddenly I forgot what I wanted to say =p SMO. One word. More gracefully known as "the opposite of live". In other words, die lah! And no, I'm not gonna marry you, silly bunny. And I'm not gonna have many silly baby bunnies either. What a silly family ((:

Get well soon, Bellebelle ((: Not soon, more like, the sooner than soon kinda soon - 5 days! Get best soon sounds nicer (:

I'll go do my new skin now (: Who cares about Prelim 2? Flush it down the toilet, kick it down the drain, slam it down the floor, step it down my foot and swallow it down my throat. So many grammatical errors in that last sentence, and English is tomorrow :s

Aaargh! I just realised I'm swallowing it down my throat after it went through the toilet, the drain, the floor and under my foot =p

Oh yes, how could I forget this?

Midnight
Illusions in the moonlight
Darkness dictates
November's frost awaits
I whimper
Gone she is forever
How I wish
This tranquil night I perish

The first letters spell MIDNIGHT ((=

2006-06-09T21:20:00.000+08:00

Just uploaded my new template (= Yes I know, it's quite lame, but what d'you expect from a bunny? (:

My funny bunny was super funny today (: We met at Macs and I introduced her to the auntie and the auntie to her. Then the equally clueless auntie started saying Hi in Cantonese and cute little bunny was stunned, she started replying in English, then the auntie replied in Cantonese again, then bunny in English, then Cantonese, then English, Cantonese, English, Cantonese, English, and it went on and on and on - and no one had the faintest shadow of a clue what the other was talking about :D Super hilarious! Imagine me as a spectator, laughing my leg off! Real live example of Lost in Translation (: Bunny left minutes later with a very sarcastic Thank you! thrown straight in my face =p Sorry bunny.

Oh yeah, and she returned me my Zen (finally!) with, guess what? One pathetic bar of battery left :s Well, as the saying goes: You can't teach an old bunny new tricks. Hey what's the link here? Actually I'm clueless myself, but who cares about clues? Point is, bunny returned me my Zen and that's why I'm here, finally able to upload my template (:

Physics was okay, with Bellebelle crappin' along with me while I finished an entire FYS! in a mere matter of three hours, feeling good, finished something (: Thanks for all that stuff to keep me awake :) 'Cos I only slept for three hours last night :s Anyway, here are some things to change:

Too frank.
Too arrogant.
Too sensitive.
Too pessimistic.
Too annoying.

I've decided to cancel Too lame 'cos it's not really something bad, I think. And the dude on the MRT was annoying. And that other dude. And another one. And one more. Oh yeah, and that dudess (feminine form of dude) too. I'm not a chimpanzee.

Mabel's leaving on the 15th. 10 more days to Cast Removal Day. 15 to SMO Finals. And don't know how many more to Prelim 2. And I'm not about to find out, in case I scare the daylights (both living and dying) out of myself.

I need salvation - haven't started on mugging any subject yet! All I've been doing is homework homework and more homework. Some mugging beckons! But relax lah, I'm not about to mug now. I never mug at night. It's pointless. Can't stuff nothing in my head anyway. And a message to those English-grammatical-error-spotters, can't stuff nothing in Clep language means can't stuff anything.

Signing off. And on. And off again.

And on! Haha, gotcha, didn't I?!

Okay, end of story. Nighty night. And according to my fellow PPG, honey-coated raspberry-flavoured sugar-textured dreams (:

Here's a fun fact though: I'm not about to sleep. It's like, six hours earlier than my normal slumber time =p

2006-06-08T22:11:00.000+08:00

I'm online! (((((=

2006-05-31T00:53:00.000+08:00

Time flies eh? Fortunately, and unfortunately. This time, it's the latter ):

Is it a month yet? I don't know. I don't wanna know. I'd do anything, I'd give anything, I'd take anything - someone please, just tell me, where it's all gone, and how I can get it back.

I want May back, June's gonna suck, I know it. May was, is, and I'm pretty sure will be, the best month of the year. Prelims, teachers, homework, mugging, pressure, results, crutches, signatures, stares, MRTs, buses, drivers, people, young, old, doctors, painkillers, drama, judges, laughter, humiliation, and all that shit. Fortunately the month ended with nothing more than the perfect-est ending: Cats, gays, randomness, coincidences, birthdays, CDs, strings, taxi drivers, competitions, coffee beans, and you (:

Thanks table, have fun with your chair (: Though this almost means the end of Projects FOMAM and Project FOMAC, it's just almost. There's still a big fat world out there for the completion of the Projects, or rather, a big fat island? Or a big fat school? Or maybe even a big fat shopping mall? *smiles weirdly thoughtfully*

Thanks bunny (= Still can't believe you actually ran home for me, so touched I am :) Really, really touched. So are you actually a cat or a bunny? Bunny'll miss bunny's bunny, which is actually bunny's bunny's bunny as well, and let's not forget bunny's bunny's bunny's bunny's bunny too (: We'll still be in touch, I think, I hope, I wish - and for that, I'll make it a reality (:

Thanks you. Eeeh, so weird. Grammatically wrong, whoever heard of thanks you? But somewhere up there says thanks table and thanks bunny, so by right, this should be thanks you too, but it just sounds wrong. But further thinking forces me to conclude that thank you sounds wronger, so thanks you it shall be (: Think I've said enough in my messages, our convos, and my blog. And you've said enough too, in your messages, our convos, and your blog (: Oh yeah, before I forget, the Coffee Bean said a lot as well x) Now you can be sure it is you. I understand your efforts, I treasure them, I cherish them! Your sam, your huut, your jeng lek, and your oi sam :D (the spelling's super weird, but it seems the only way to spell it, so tell me if you can come up with something better, ok? :D) And look, I've been using first person and smileys all the way! :) By the way, I saved the most important person, you, for the last (:

This looks like some Mothers' Day entry. But it's not (duh!)

It's sort of a... farewell entry (?) I think? I'll be back to where I don't belong tomorrow, so... yeah, I think that's all I have to say. Can't think of anything else, blurred by tears - past tears.

2006-05-29T20:33:00.000+08:00

Ok, I'm back, folks (:

Where did I stop? Oh yeah, took a cab back after the appointment. Got to hostel first. Settled some insurance stuffies, read some newspaper and bullied the teacher-on-duty a little (:p trust me, you don't wanna know, or you can ask me :D ask, and I'll tell.) Point to note: DHS Hostel's printer only has a Black & White cartridge -.- And the dining hall's a wreck. And CO people find it highly interesting and amusing to see bai ka people like me hopping down the stairs, which isn't such a painful process as most people think it is - because I devised a strongly-disapproved-by-doctor method to get down the steps super efficiently. Believe me, it's faster than you normal people with two legs (:

On the way back I saw the volleyballers throwing the ball all over the place - wake up, people! You'll never hit the ball up to the sun to extinguish the flames, I know it's hot but just use your brains lah, just save that energy and go in the shade to play with your ball, or balls, which Eva is in love with. Your coach must not be very bright, so many years in volleyball and he's telling his girls to dig the ball high up to shade themselves from the sun? He must be a Physics person more than a sports person. Common-sense-cum-Physics tells us that the closer the object is to the light source, the bigger the shadow is, duh. So hitting the ball high high high high high up would create a super big shadow to shade you from the sun? Go to hell lah. I'm spastic.

Eva called me out. Met her at bus stop. With Boyang and another girl friend she claims is like Serene. I know neither of 'em, so don't bother telling me that. But it was interesting to know her (: What's her name again? Anyone, remind me :p Anyway, she asked me where I was from, and I said hostel, then she said "Hostel Sec? Or Hostel JC?" *speechless*... And she signed Hostel JC on my cast, thanks (:

Then we went up the bus which I so strongly refused to. Singaporeans. I'm not generalising. I'm stating facts here. And true enough, I stood my whole way from DHS to KFC, is that cool or is that cool? I find I use the is that cool or is that cool thingy too much, so lame, shall change it, soon, if I remember. People were pointing and staring and joking and whatevering but no one seemed willing to give up their seats: Eva, you're wrong, it applies for Singaporean students as well! But I'm ok with that, I'm more comfortable standing than seating, thanks to the intensive training you Singaporeans gave me throughout the past two weeks.

KFC was ok. We said... Ok no, I said Hi to so many people, the nice uncle should have a long life. We graffiti-ed, slacked, crapped, and I learnt a new word - surrogacy. Which is something quite morally wrong :x

2006-05-29T16:02:00.000+08:00

Back from appointment. And hostel. And Eva. And Por Yee. And Irene. And KFC.

What am I gonna say this time? I don't know... I'll say if she asks. I won't if she doesn't. Yeah, sounds like a plan. I think.

No, relax. It's not you. It's someone much older, in her forties (=

Appointment was kinda bad. But it wasn't completely bad, at least I was punctual - for the first time, in fact, much much much earlier (: And was it because Mum wasn't around? Theories, based on scientific observations and not just mere assumptions, tell me that Mum is the one making me late everytime - for about an hour or so, if not more. Three appointments, or is it two? Hang on, I'll go check.

*Rummages through an enormous pile of documents in the drawer, including receipts, bills, referral letters, appointment letters, medication guides and other stuff of the sort. Fails.*

*Lifts the dusty trapdoor in the floor to reveal an Olympic-sized pool of documents, complete with dirt and cobwebs and alien green stains of goo on them. Swims through the pool of stuff to recover lost appointment card. Fails again.*

*Desperately learns Parseltongue in a matter of minutes, dashes to the Ladies' on the second floor, wakes Moaning Myrtle up from another one of her many daydreams about sex life with Dumbledore, asks for directions to the hidden toilet bowl, hisses something weird to the poorly-engraved snake which looks more like a spermatozoon (that's the full name for sperm), toilet bowl cracks to reveal some poo beneath, Myrtle laughs and said it was a joke, strangles Myrtle, Myrtle realises the urgency, she uses a key that looks more like a miniature durian on a chopstick to unlock the secret sink, and reveals the Chamber of Secrets, dives into yet another resrvoir of documents in the Chamber of Secrets to look for the appointment card.*

...

*Emerges victorious! Face grey (and dusty), hair greyer (and tousled), teeth contrastingly sparkling silver in a big wide smile (with a little twinkle in it that'd make any toothpaste company proud), Clep emerges victorious!*

*Clutched in his left hand - a black top hat, and in his right - a white rabbit! (: Just kidding :p*

*Clutched in his left hand - a banana, and in his right - a doughnut! (: Just kidding again :p*

*Clutched in his left hand - a camel, and in his right - another camel, and on his head - an elephant! (: Ok I'll stop it. *

*Clutched in his left hand - is his crutch, and in his right - duh, his other crutch. So where's the appointment card? It was in his pocket all along! And he was stupid enough to go through his drawer, his trapdoor, and the Chamber of Secrets just to realise that it was in his pocket all along! That is some impressive IQ he's got, so to talent scouts out there looking for people with exceptionally unique IQ, pay more attention to Clep! (I was referring to talent scouts from asylums.)*

Ooops, we're drifting away from the topic :p Ok where was I? *Scrolls up, up and more up (Didn't realise I crapped that much! :p)* Oh yeah, it's two appointments, sorry about the mistake up there. So I had two appointments before this and was late for both. But I managed to be 20 minutes earlier this time (: And the only difference I see is the presence and absence of Mum. So scientifically, I have no choice but to conclude that it's Mum's fault I'm late, though I don't really think so myself, poor timing maybe? I don't know.

Yeah whatever, point made - I wasn't late this time. So I took my X-ray with this really friendly nurse who laughs at everything from the signatures on my cast to the fact that I'm not Singaporean to the fact that she enjoys killing cockroaches - stepping, spraying, cutting (literally cutting it in two), poisoning and flushing (down the toilet bowl).

Then after a lotta hoo hah pling plang keng kiang (which doesn't really mean anything other than chaos), it was finally my turn to enter the doctor's room, which wasn't as bad as what we usually see in the movies...

*Scene turns gloomy, black ominous clouds invade the clear blue sky, thunder rumbles, rain pelts down. In a deserted corridor, a distant dark hooded figure lumbers towards doctor's room, which seems to have the invisible equation Doctor + Diagnosis + Drugs = Death engraved and painted in a bright threatening red on the door, glaring sinisterly at him. Lightning flashes twice, a fraction of a second between both gleams, which illuminates the dark figure, showing nothing more than a golden silhouette of pure menace. Thunder roars once again, the dark hooded figure gets closer and closer, revealing something over his shoulder that reflects the pure innocence of moonlight, into pure evil in his bloodstained hands - a sickle!...*

Shucks, this I'm-afraid-of-the-doctor scene is getting more and more like Kill Bill or something. Where was I, again? Oh ya, I entered the doctor's room, saw my X-ray, didn't have to hear much from the doctor to know what was going on.

As Confucius say: An X-ray paints a thousand words. But I think otherwise, maybe the people back then were stupider as they didn't have calculators or computers or stuff, so they counted with their fingers and toes and their sisters' fingers and toes and their brothers' fingers and toes and their Mum's fingers and toes and their Dad's fingers and toes and their dog's fingers and toes and their cat's fingers and toes and their fish's (?) fingers and toes and all the village people's fingers and toes and maybe some from the next village.

But, but but but, they never counted the Emperor's fingers and toes because he was locked away in the Purple Forbidden City, that's what it says in Confucius' books, but since the angmohs are nothing but a bunch of slackers, they try to save the word Purple, hence in English, we call it the Forbidden City, which means that the Emperor is forbidden to get out of the pathetic city with women, women and more women, that he can only finish sleeping with if he lived up to 314.1592654 years old (by the way, that's not a random number, it's pi times 100, I just happen to know the exact value of pi as general knowledge :D try it on your calculator.) So since he can never finish sleeping with all the women, he'll just have to conquer as many as he can, spending his whole life in the Purple Forbidden City. So the poor peasants who think they've finished counting all the fingers and toes didn't actually complete the task of getting to the largest number known to mankind.

Besides, they roamed this planet 5000 years ago, which means that, according to the Theory of Evolution by Charles Darwin, their brains are not as developed as ours - in other words, they're stupider lah. So since they're stupider, they forgot to count the fingers and toes of snakes and guavas and rivers. Thinking that they had finally got to the largest number after all that pointless trouble to count the fingers and toes in the world, they got to the pretty number of 1000. Hence, A picture paints a thousand words. See the logic?

Again, where was I? Yes, yes, of course, I remember. Ahem, so in short, there wasn't much visible improvement according to the doctor, and also according to my eyes, and my specs, and my brain. But she said the cast can be removed by our next appointment, which is a YAY! for me (: Unfortunately, the next appoinment is three weeks later, which is a not-so-YAY! for me. So the YAY! and the not-so-YAY! neutralize each other and I'm back to myself, which is actually... HIGH! for today (((: Good sign. Don't ask me why, I'm just HIGH today, yes, even after the neutralization reaction up there which doesn't really produce salt or water :s Chemistry teachers are liars. Eh no, they're not :p The neutralization reaction up there does not involve acids and alkalis. Silly billy me.

I sound gay saying that. But what the heck? I am gay after all (: So the gay typing and smiling retardedly to himself in front of his monitor now has to go have his dinner. He'll come back in a jiffy to finish posting his second half of the day (:

2006-05-29T07:16:00.000+08:00

Just woke up. Going to Singapore General Hospital in 15 minutes.

So why am I still here blogging? I could've italic-ized the words and added more question marks to show the urgency, like this So why am I still here blogging????? because it really is urgent, and I'm not supposed to be found where I am - in front of the computer :p But being me, I don't really do what I'm supposed to do, not for my leg anyway (remember pressurizing it? ;p) And I'm not a twit, TyPiin9zxzxzx LyK diishxzxz, and putting umpteen question marks like this, ???????????????, that's fifteen question marks for your information (: Sorry Maureen, you're definitely pro-er here :p So yeah, here I am still blogging (=

Remind me about Boyang and Friendster and Chinese sinsehs later. Got to rush. I felt like typing gtg, but that would sound not-so-urgent, again, so it became got to rush, or for you twits, gtr. Gtr in my GTR. Meaning Got to rush in my GTR. Wondering what GTR is? I don't know either, but you'll get an idea after watching Initial D (=

Ok, seriously, bye! :D

2006-05-29T03:41:00.000+08:00

Love isn't... just a feeling, it's shaving your balls!

- American Wedding.

I love that quote. Just watched it a few days ago, and kept forgetting to blog about it, now I remember - in the wee hours of the morning :p

Anyone would think that it's just some porn thing to make you laugh, but isn't really very funny at the same time. I think otherwise. I laughed at that too, but then I thought about it after that - and it made a lot of sense to me (:

Love isn't just a feeling, it isn't about holding hands or having sex. It's about shaving your balls - in other words, sacrifice. Love is about sacrifice. It's about both sides sacrificing something to make love work, and that's why sex is sometimes (most of the time for some people) called make love. Another quote from American Wedding. You make love, to make love work! Again, it's about shaving your balls (:

Get it?

I love these people for coming up with such... such... beautiful quotes.

Of course, this love refers to BGR only. I mean, your Dad loves you, but he doesn't shave his balls for you, does he? Or maybe he does, for some people, you'll never know :p And I love my Dad too, but I don't shave my balls for him *pukes*

I love my friends, and if that quote works for everybody, the whole of CHS would be clean shaven, imagine that. Then hair check would include pubic hair checks as well - people who don't shave don't love their friends or the teachers or the school. Then Saras would have a hard time carrying out her famous (did I say famous? Ooops, I meant notorius.) hair checks, which'll last for months, since it usually lasts for weeks even without pubic hair checks. And the prefects'll have to strip each and everyone of us, because some of us have chest hair, or as Ben Tay calls it, nipple hair. Armpit hair's going down the drain as well. Eyebrows? Nose hair? Leg hair, hand hair, ass hair? Wow, imagine CHS becoming some monk school! You'll have a boys' school with boys who don't have pubic hair walking all over the place! Amazing! And amusing too (: And since RI people hate us, they'll be big and hairy monsters? And when you go to the toilets in J8, those cubicles with hair all over the place have been used by RI people and those clean ones have been used by us (:

Love is truly about shaving your balls (:

2006-05-29T02:36:00.000+08:00

Guess what time it is, people.

So many things done today! Eh no, yesterday. Look at the time. Finished Chemistry worksheet, one only though - but what the hell, there's only one, so how do I finish two? Enough with all the crap! Anyway, back to the topic.

*Clears throat* Ahem ... ... ... What topic again? -.-" Never mind, I'll find other topics to crap my way through this entry (: Woke up at 3.15 PM today. Yeah, don't shake your head or rub your eyes or pinch your hand or punch your face or kick your own ass or pull your hair or do a handstand or a dozen star jumps, just to ensure that you're not hallucinating. Because I'm here to tell you that you're not, yes I did wake up at 3.15 PM today, thanks to the severely overweight entry yesterday. Speaking of severely overweight... ok I'll save that for later (; *cheeky smile*

By the way people, you should try punching your own face and kicking your own ass and pulling your hair and doing a handstand and a dozen star jumps. God that is super fun!

It's just so amusing! When you punch your face, do it like you punch Hak Boon (or for non-CHSers, anyone else who makes you feel like shoving three durians up his asshole), and believe me, it's gonna make you laugh your ass off, at your own retardedness (: Want even more to laugh at? Do it with your siblings or buddies or parents around, and that'll spice things up a little - it'll spice your mouth up so much that it spices your stomach too, and the people around you as well - you'll laugh till you get a stomach muscle cramp or something, trust me (: Go on, punch your face :D Or you can try looking in the mirror when you do so, just do it! Stop reading and punch yourself, like right now!

...

Was that fun? Told you! Never doubt Clep's ability to make you laugh at your own spasticness (: Now try kicking your own ass! I did it - on the floor for the first time. So here's my advice: you'll want to do it on a mattress or on your bed or on the couch, or you can do it like me, if you want a painful laugh :p And just in case you're wondering, I kicked my ass with my non-broken leg, so obviously, there was a region of vacuum beneath me for 10 milliseconds or so, before I landed on my knees. Just imagine, I'm already standing on one foot, without my crutches, then I raise it up to try to kick my ass, which was obviously a failed attempt, and landed on both my knees. BAM! onto the floor. How do I describe that in one word? Ouch. In two? Ouch ouch. In three? Ouch ouch ouch. In ten? Stop the in-how-many-words thingy, ok? It's Ouch! Hyphenated words are considered multiple words here, which makes it ten perfect words (:

The hair pull wasn't as fun, and obviously the handstand and star jump couldn't be done ): Hakuna Matata! No worries, I'll be able to do that when my leg's ok :) If I still remember, that is. Though I seriously think by the time my leg's ok, I'll be break-dancing or something. Hey, what about ballet?

Speaking of that, I can walk! (((= I just thought I'd try walking today, and I did! Man this is so cool (: I can walk! In small steps though, but who cares? I don't need my crutches to move around the house now (: but I still need them for long distances though, can't expect me to walk all the way to the hostel eh? And I'm walking like: BIG step, small step, BIG step, small step, BIG step, small step - which is actually quite energy-draining-cum-consuming-cum-extorting. Besides, I'm not allowed and not supposed to walk yet, the doctor decides when I can start walking - and my next appointment's tomorrow (: Eh, today! I'm counting down, five more hours to X-ray time :D I'm not supposed to exert any pressure onto my left foot, though I've been doing so since Day One of my injury, for fear that it might turn into what Elvis said - what muscle?

*Images start to fade... then they turn black and white, back to that day...*

*Words appear letter after letter in a bright green robot-ish font at the bottom left of the screen, not unlike some familiar scene in The Matrix.*

*Date: 26 May 2006, Elvis' birthday.*
*Time: Unknown (Actually, it's more like, Forgotten.)*
*Venue: Somewhere between City Hall MRT Station and Esplanade.*

Elvis: If you continue hopping like this, your right leg muscle will be damn big lah.
Bunny: Yalah, I think my right leg muscle will be damn big, then my left leg muscle damn small, only can see the bone.
Elvis: Left leg? What muscle?
Bunny: *speechless*

So conclusion is, I'm not allowed to burden my left foot but I've been doing so for weeks and now I can walk - and I'm not gonna tell the doctor about it ;) *another cheeky smile*

2006-05-28T03:00:00.000+08:00

You're officially my bestest nicest girl friend (: Thanks for the songs! You have wonderful taste. The only reason why only three people on Earth share this taste is 'cos it's a wonderful but unique taste, cherish it (: Be glad that there're even two other people, one of which you found today, haha :D More songs in the future ok? :)

It's not the first time we've been staying up this late, huh? Or is it? Me and my high day, which was further heightened by you (: You and your Project SLEPT, which I think is perfect :) And I seriously think you need more sleep to regain your sense of direction. Pasir Ris is NorthEast! :D

Yay Bellebelle! You did it in two hours seven minutes (: Two things to tell her, I'll remember. Gonna get my sleep now too :)

2006-05-28T02:15:00.000+08:00

Part 3:

After all the prize-presenting, RI-booing and self-congratulating, we decided to eat out, Mrs Goh's treat. I'll skip the part that took me almost an hour - to get out of the chaos in LT8 to the bus stop, and to the main road, take a taxi, then to Holland V.

Yes! Holland V! And by the way, people, Holland V is not Holland Village! It's spelled that way, but pronounced Holland Vee-lah-guh, according to Mr NG.

So funny, I absolutely love the cabbie, he's so damn lame and cool lah!

A = Lame cabbie
B = Us
*Got on cab*
A: Go where?
B: Holland V.
A: Walau Holland V so big! Holland V where?
B: The windmill there lah.
A: What windmill? Got windmill there meh?
B: Yalah, the windmill there lah.
A: You mean Singapore got real windmill ah? So hot where got windmill one?
B: Nolah, it's fake one.
A: So where's the windmill?
B: Walau uncle, you sure you don't know meh?
A: I know Holland V, I don't know what windmill lah!
B: Uncle you got watch he lan cun? The Holland V one. Starting there they got show the windmill right? That windmill lah.
A: Walau, that gay movie ah? I don't like gay movie one.
B: It's not gay movie lah. It's normal movie lah.
A: I don't like to watch Singapore Chinese serials lah, so sian.
B: Yaloh, we also think very sian.
A: But where got windmill? The police never tell me got windmill at Holland V leh!
B: What police? Walau uncle you damn lame leh!
A: Yalah, the police never tell me Holland V got windmill lah.
B: What police? Aiyah uncle, Holland Village windmill you really don't know meh?
A: Eh eh eh! Who teach you it's Holland Village? Walau, youngster nowadays ah! Don't know how to read don't anyhow read.
B: Huh? Holland V is not Holland Village meh?
A: Nolah! Walau your teacher never teach you one meh? Teachers nowadays also lousy lah.
B: So it's not Holland Village then it's what?
A: I tell you ah... I tell you ah... The Holland V is not Holland Village!
B: Yalah uncle, so what is it?
A: I tell you ah... I tell you ah... The Holland V is actually *hesitates* Holland Vee-lah-guh!
B: What is Vee-lah-guh?
A: Your teacher never teach you meh? Last time the angmoh don't know how to read, so they read vil-lage loh, so stupid. Nowadays government ask us speak good English mah, so must speak properly lah. Village is actually Vil-la-ge, read as Vee-lah-guh!
B: Oh! Walau uncle you damn smart leh! How come you know ah? The police never tell us also leh!
A: What police?
B: Uncle you teach us mah. You said police never tell you about windmill. He also never tell us about Holland Vee-lah-guh.
A: You all very good ah! Bully uncle ah!
*Almost at Holland V already*
A: You don't know Holland Vee-lah-guh? You outdate lah! You ask any taxi driver also know one.
B: Really meh? If next time I tell the taxi driver Holland Vee-lah-guh he don't know then how?
A: He don't know ah? Tell him call me, I tell him, there! My number there. *Points to number plate of cab - 1981 (I think, forgot.)*
B: Huh? So if he don't know then ask him call 1-900-CALL-1981 ah?
A: Ah yalah yalah! So smart ah? Your teacher very good! Where you live ah?
B: Punggol. Eh no, I live at Pun-G-gol. Ah yaya, Pun-G-gol.
A: What Punjigol Punjigol? You Pang Sai Go lah! Go pang sai, go pang sai!
B: Cannot pang sai lah uncle, later your cab damn smelly leh!
A: Oh ya hor. Ok don't pang sai don't pang sai.
*Almost at windmill*
A: *Points to windmill* Ah, there's where I live!
B: *Not too sure where he pointed* Where? Where?
A: There lah, the windmill there! I live in the windmill lah, you don't know meh?
B: Walau uncle! You say the police never tell you about the windmill some more, you live there ah!
A: You don't believe ah?
B: Ah believe believe. Eh uncle, how to pronounce your name ah? *Points to name card*
A: You don't know how to read ah? Your teacher lousy lah.
B: *Name is Ng Keng Siong* Is it uhh... Ng Ken-G Siao-ong?
A: What what what? Nolah! I teach you. See ah? *Points to Ng* This is No Good. NG for No Good. *Points to Keng* See this one? End with NG also. NG is No Good. *Points to Siong* Ah, this one also No Good. My name is No Good No Good No Good. My father give me No Good name.
B: *Laughs, laughs, laughs, laughs, laughs*
A: Very funny meh? NG is No Good. Uncle's name no good.
B: Ah ya ya ya, no good no good. *Continues laughing* Eh uncle, watch the road leh, don't keep looking at your own name card lah.
A: What school you from ah?
B: Catholic High. Eh no, Cat-ho-lic Hig-H.
A: Yayaya, ok, stop here can?
B: Ya ok, bye uncle, next time call you ah! 1-900-CALL-1981!
A: Eh ok, bye bye, ah, watch your leg, bye!

Cool right! The uncle damn lame right! Hahaha (:

Slipped and fell at NYDC. But picked myself up, blamed the oily floor. I miss the lame uncle, thanks man! :D Food was good. Chat was better. But lame uncle was best! x))

2006-05-27T23:46:00.000+08:00

Part 2:

Decided to have an Episode 2 for my day today for fun, since it was so fun (:

Where was I? Oh yeah, three hours earlier - what was I to do? Three hours isn't like, three hours. It's more like, THREE HOURS?!?!?! That kinda three hours, y'know what I mean. Killed 30 minutes of those three hours getting to LT8 - 14 flights of stairs away - I counted. Once there, sat on the steps under the sun (as there was no chair or table or any seat-able object around) and stared into space for another 30 minutes, poof! an hour gone (: Then this nice nice nice guy came out and saw me sweat all my supposed-to-be-urine-or-tears-or-saliva-or-whatever-but-came-out-as-sweat-due-to-the-stupid-hot-sun sweat, and my face drowsy. So he asked if I wanted to go to the library, and I didn't say yes, I said something more like "Hell yeah! Faster, faster, faster! *desperately*"

Then he escorted me to the library - which turned out to be another 20 minutes away. I felt like murdering him, but since he brought me to the library anyway, I decided to spare him (:

Cool library! It is the coolest library I've ever been to. Just the lobby itself is so spacious - yes, it has its own lobby (: Then you need a student card or access card or some weird card to get in, the guy used his card to let me in :) Millions and billions and trillions and zillions and kaboogazillions of computers there, all plasma screen, cool! But apparently, you need a registered Username and Password to use them, so... a teeny weeny bit disappointed. Then my final destination, the lounge thingy. It had it's own water cooler, vending machine, snacks, drinks, SANDWICH MAKING MACHINE, and some other cool cool cool stuff. The chairs were so squashy washy lumpy dumpy comfy pomfy, I could've dived right into them if my leg wasn't broken. And yes, the sandwich making machine was like a vending machine, you get to choose stuff like ham, bacon, egg, tomato sauce, chilli sauce, mayonaise, lettuce, fish, chicken and stuff to be in your sandwich, then the machine makes a big big big one for you and it drops down like how a vending machine works. I swear the sandwich is almost as big as the Carl's Jr kind.

Went through my SMO once again while sitting comfortably there watching couples kiss (yes, there were couples kissing in the library!) Started moving at 3.20, needed another 20 minutes from the library back.

Mrs Goh got me some hor fun while the team came back. I had some they had some, they came in fourth, blaming the stupid grid reference, just like everyone :p Cheer up guys, our results weren't that bad (: Though they were a little below expectations, but hey, you tried your best so relax. *Clep secretly thinks: if I were there, we'd probably do a little bit better :p blame the leg*

A few quotes from the Profs:

If you're a Geographer, you're smarter than Albert Einstein. (Einstein chose to be a Physicist instead of a Geographer because "Physics seemed an easier subject.")
Geography is more important then the gall bladder.
You can take me out of the Geography department, but you can't take the Geographer out of me.

He modified the last one: You can take me out of the brothel, but you can't take the prostitute out of me. We got Sixth Place. That's the impossible. We've possiblized the impossible. Impossible is nothing, huh? So why's it impossible? 'Cos we got Sixth Place last year too! Coincidence, coincidence and coincidence. Eight places to be won, so the probability of getting the same results as last year is 1/8, and we've done it - impossible is nothing (:

Everyone got a $20 Borders voucher, it's actually a Borders card, like a phone card with $20 on it, to be used in Borders, for books, CDs or Internet. I got nothing ): I was in the Preliminary Round ok? It's the Preliminary Round that got you guys in the finals, and if it wasn't 'cos of my leg, I'd be in the finals too. And I contributed during the Audience Round too. Guys I deserve some credit too ):

But there're only 6 vouchers, so what am I talking about? It's not like they'll give it up if I talk more, so get over it, no point talking about it all day long if it won't help. Just happy that we won something (: Kinda made me feel better after RI owned earlier that day. And guess what? I've got new graffiti on my cast! :)))

Stuff written on my cast:

Elvis was here! :)
Take care, silly boy.
I am Novabelle!!
I'm Soo, first to sign :)
I absolutely love Saras.
I am wonderful x)
Happy Mothers' Day.
Caution!!! Don't step on me.
Note! I have my dignity!
I will eat you up (=
Soo loves XY!!!
Are you gay?! Yeah baby!
*Picture of Donald Duck*
Hallelujah!
Bad boy.
Own RI!
RI sucks. (On the sole, so I step on it every step I take :p)

2006-05-27T22:50:00.000+08:00

Part 1:

Not again! The box's blue again :s

Anyway today started off nicely (: NJ was ok, as in the place, not the paper. I'll go to that painful memory later. It's like, so damn ulu, severed from civilization, the only visible man made object around was RGS (Primary).

First thing in NJ that I saw was the big big big big big Hall of Fame for President Scholars, nah, it was more like a Wooden Board of Fame. And the first name there - 1970 Lee Hsien Loong. Says a lot huh? Bloody mugger Lee Hsien Loong.

We reached there 40 minutes earlier. Tried to cram a few more formulas into my tiny brain. Failed. So we walked around, wandered around and slacked around the campus - which was so much like CHS! Is it a curse? Are all the schools moving towards the art thingy? Is it that fascinating?

They had a koi pond too, which made ours look pathetic, which was actually something good (: Their koi own ours, ours look more like anchovy. Seriously. Then had to screw my way up the winding and slippery and wet path around the koi pond, made it to the top to find even more Magnum Opi (is that the plural?) So cool, sketches all along the corridor, by students. And I wondered if all NJ people looked that horrible, or were the artists plain lousy, or was exaggerating ugliness considered an art?!

I'll make the paper part as concise as possible, pathetic memories. Easier than VJ. Careless mistake cost me 17 marks (it's not that much as it appears, each question carries 5-10 marks.) Food was almost inedible. RI owned again. And that's pretty much about it.

Done. Short huh? Painful memories don't deserve to be long. Took a cab to NUS straight after NJ, didn't have lunch, and Anna Tan's kids aren't very different from her, in terms of size. I told you, it's the genes. *evil grin*

We did something quite childish and irresponsible - called a cab. But we got a cab before our cab arrived, so we took it :p Saved ourselves a handsome $2.50 booking fee, which was supposed to be earned by Comfort, but in the end remained safe in our pockets. But the guys decided to let me go NUS myself while they took a bus to J8, so I went to NUS alone. On my way to NUS, the cab that I called called me, asking me where I was, I was naughty.

Cabbie: Hello? Mr Lian, did you give me the right address? Where are you?
Naughty Clep: Hello?
Cabbie: Hello? Mr Lian, where are you?
Naughty Clep: Hello? Who're you? I can't hear you.
Cabbie: Hello? Hello? Shit no line! *mutters to himself*
Naughty Clep: Sorry wrong number. *Hangs up*

Ooops, sorry :p A trick I learnt from him. Names are sensitive here :p Got to NUS safely and soundly, but with one super major problem, and when I say major, I mean major - I arrived three hours before the reporting time, cool eh?

2006-05-27T07:09:00.000+08:00

It's 7 AM. Just woke up, still sleepily woozy doozy drowsy. What the hell am I doing here? I don't know, just felt like blogging before my competitions. Think it'll bring me luck or something? Ok I'll stop being an idiot, whoever heard of luck-bringing pre-competition bloggings? *raises hand* "Oh, me! Me! Me! I've heard of it, I've heard of it!"

That sounds pretty retarded, which is actually quite me, and feeling myself before my competition should be a good sign, I suppose? (: Killer SMO questions probably wouldn't come out later, I think. To be precise, I hope, I beg, I wish! Please don't come out with super demoralizers at the start of the paper... or at the end... or in the middle - just don't give me any crazy sigma-wooney-palooney questions!

You're supposed to be NJ, which to me, is a JC defined as pretty-slack-and-not-too-muggerish. I mean, if you were RJ or HCI, I'd probably go to your competition and have a little fun staring at some of your questions that appear not unlike Greek to me for hours and hours and more hours and maybe a few more seconds before I fall asleep - in other words, incomprehensible. But you're NJ, so you're supposed to be a pre-SMO warm up thingy for me, and a morale booster as well, don't disappoint me (=

What am I thinking? Hoping for easy questions in a Maths competition?! Think it's driving me nuts - yes, both peanuts and groundnuts! I think the last sentence in my previous paragraph should be something like Hope I don't disappoint myself or something like that. And if I don't go bathe now, I'll probably really disappoint myself for being late for the competition, so bye (:

Lady Luck, please, please please puh-leeese be with me later (:

No wrong, I shouldn't depend on luck. In fact, I shouldn't even depend on anything else at all. Should depend on myself. Shall depend on myself. Will depend on myself. And your love (:

2006-05-26T23:30:00.000+08:00

I hereby officially declare 26 May as Coincidence Day!

Coincidences, coincidences, and more than more coincidences than you could ever imagine. And hey, Coincidence Day just so happens to coincide with Elvis' birthday, how coincidental. So Coincidence Day is literally coincidence day after all (:

SMO questions are so coincidental, I love numbers as much as I love my butt - which is not very much when times are bad (eg. egesting/defaecating), and very much when times are good (eg. dance talent contest). And today, times are good (= Mainly 'cos it's Coincidence Day!

NJC Maths thingy decided to coincide with NUS Geography thingy tomorrow. By the way, thingy here means competition. Fortunately, NJC comes in the morning while NUS comes in the afternoon - the wonder of coincidences :D

And PS!!! PS is amazing. Truly amazing. Decided to be funny since it's the last day of school. So I took the Dhoby Ghaut way home, which is actually the shorter way Bellebelle, yeah it's shorter, but more exercise for my leg. But I decided to pretend my leg was perfectly fine since it's the last day of school, and took the short but painstakingly tiring route home.

Missed 7 buses altogether, cool is all I can say. Like, the cool kind of cool. You get it :p And conincidentally Bellebelle was there with her friends as well, makan-ing and celebrating the end of school and work and teachers they hate, I think. But whatever, point is, she was there coincidentally on the day I decided to be funny! Cool huh?

And that's not all, while stoning on the steps because of the numbness created by the tiredness of people staring at me and going "Oh poor thing!" or "Tendang dia!" (which means kick it in Malay, don't think I don't know what you're saying, you bunch of Malay Bengs, I just chose to remain silent and act ignorant 'cos I didn't want people like you screwing up my happy day...) Where was I? Oh yeah, while stoning on the steps, I got this heavy tap which ended up more like a blow in my cast by a complete stranger, passer-by, pedestrian, whatever you call it. Then I was like, stunned. Hello? You, a stranger, tapping my cast? Feeling kinda weird and a teeny weeny bit angry, I looked up and saw... Guess who? My beloved RBP Elvis! (((= The teeny weeny bit of anger was gone - Elvis was actually there! And all along I thought she'd be happily celebrating her birthday with her friends at some fancy hotel (somehow something somewhere inside me tells me she looks like a rich kid though I clearly think she's not), and the most I could do was to send her a message - but she was actually there! I mean, how small is Singapore? Or how big is Singapore? Amazing.

Anyway, she didn't look 100% herself. I dunno, just sensed it. Like something was lacking in her spirits - it wasn't as high as a birthday girl's should be. But I decided it was just some weird end-of-school feeling I had, and dismissed the thought instantly. Told Bellebelle about her miracle arrival at PS, and they both met up or something, I think.

Then I did my stupid SMO, which turned out to be less stupid than I thought it was. Halfway through Bellebelle came (= Had a little three-minute chat then she went off with her friends. Once again, I was alone. Stoning again. Then came another message from Elvis, something really didn't sound right, don't ask me what that is - it's just something.

Decided to do something cheer her up, c'mon people, it's her birthday. Told her I went home to get the present. Actually I went home to get my stuff, materials, y'know. Ok I didn't "went" home, I zoomed home. Like on the bus, in my heart, eh uncle, faster leh, faster leh, I need to get back to City Hall by 7 lah, that kinda feeling. Sprinted up on my crutches (it is possible to sprint on crutches if you know how), got the stuff, sprinted back down and got a cab.

Did everything on the cab. Couldn't think of anything quite creatively lame, or lamely creative, whichever sounds nicer to you. So I put in some of my old stuff there, and the cab was shaking like hell, my handwriting and the string was a bit screwed, but never mind, I finished something in the end. Though quite hastily done.

She scared the shit outta me, or according to Mrs Tang, the living daylights outta me. Man I was there waiting and waiting and waiting and suddenly boo! Yeah, that was how good she was. I actually jumped and landed some weight onto my left foot, but it didn't hurt that much so I didn't tell her :p After all, she's the birthday girl. And my sole purpose to even chiong the CDs, chiong to City Hall, chiong to meet her, was to make her happy (=

So yeah, Esplanade and her friends and eating and drinking and dancing and posing and sparkleting and sitting and standing and jumping and singing and filming and photo-taking and it all ended pretty nicely, with the exception of me taking lifts instead of escalators, sorry guys :p

So yeah, gonna have my dinner now. Yeah, dinner not supper.

2006-05-26T00:18:00.000+08:00

What can I say? What can I say? Thank you :D

Slept again during the I-suppose-supposedly-supposed-to-be Chinese remedial. Woke up half way through, and hey, I've done something for the class during Chinese! Now who would believe that? No one did, till this morning (: The teacher's gay though, seriously :p

And yeah, thanks man, or men. You people who helped me at the canteen, really appreciate that (: And to all who are still blur:

I may appear to have two hands and one leg available, but look closely, I've now got three legs and no hands. My hands've been extended to be my two new legs, thanks to the invention of crutches. So yeah, I can't hold anything. Thanks for the reminder, Kar Yong. I can go to the canteen, I can queue, I can order - but I can't bring my food back to my seat -.-" Yeah I know, pretty pathetic that is. But it's not like I can do anything about it, so guys, I'm already trying my best not to trouble you. Bringing food to my seat is better than packing it and bringing it all the way back to class, ok?

SMO was pretty smooth. Gave up on the Old Man's (not Jeffrey Goh, the real old man) More Challenging Problems, since the new cute gay teacher gave up as well. And guess what? He knows what zhan zhuan xiang chu fa is!!! Is that cool or is that cool? And there's this real weird translation for it in English which sounded, and I mean really seriously sounded, like Sex Theory Holafilmoco-thingy. 2004 was good, morale booster (: Buck up, people! Everyone's getting in the finals. And we're all gonna own RI! Own, own, own! (ok we're not, but that was pretty good for a heart-warmer eh? :p)

Thanks for everything, yeah? You know I'm talking about you. I don't SMS that many people at this hour of the morning (: You are just so necessary :D

Happy flappy mappy dappy Cleppy burpday RBP! x)))

2006-05-24T22:07:00.000+08:00

Haven't blogged for days, ages, centuries, millenia. Feeling weird. What the hell.

Yeap! Miracle. Fate. Destiny (:

Hope you're ok, smile more (: You sound sad. You sound weak. You sound drained. You sound like me, months ago. Pick yourself up! Look there, yes, there! C'mon, you know where it is, there - the bright side :D

DSA's not that bad, gives you something to work towards. Fail it - and you have something bigger to work towards! You have no idea how many people out there commit suicide because of aimless lives, be glad you've got something keeping you company in life, ok? :)

Studies? Hey I'm always here (:

Eva, thanks. For your salvation. I think. You claim. But we'll never know. Things are gonna get better :D I believe. The power of trust, of belief, of faith.

2006-05-21T15:37:00.000+08:00

Something's wrong. The box is blue (?).

I think Blogger's mourning 'cause I deleted my blog. Blue isn't my typical mourning colour though. Don't you think brown is so much more mourning-er than blue? I mean, brown. Y'get what I mean, don't you? You're just pretending you don't. Suckers.

Ok, what am I talking about? I don't know. Talking to myself? No I'm not, I ain't no schizo. Or maybe I am. Just think about it, would a schizo know he/she's a schizo? Or would he/she even admit it? Yeah well, maybe, but not me, or at least I don't think so.

What is it that I don't think so again? Shit. This ain't gettin' me nowhere, go dunk your head in that freaking pool of shit right outside your window! Yeah, that pool. Go on, do it. I said do it, you idiot. Which bloody part of dunk your head in shit do you not understand? Huh? Go screw yourself, sucker.

Screw the world. Rejoice. And God bless you. Hugs and kisses. More hugs and kisses. And again, God bless you. Thank you.

2006-05-19T22:49:00.000+08:00

His well-built body leant against the wall as he peered out of the window into the pond which mirrored the pure azure of the cloudless sky. Swiftly and abruptly, his blue-green eyes darted from that window to the next, and then to the door - just like his thoughts - no more than confusion. How was he going to spill it to her? Mixed emotions of regret and anger made him run his fingers through his hair, a slight gesture to erase the last trace of any thoughts in his mind - for a few seconds or so.

Then the sudden creaking of the door hinges invaded the tranquility of the room, as well as his blank mind. Torrents of images flooded his mind, images that reminded him of a guilt that could never fade away. The next second, she entered the room. This added excruciating pain on top of all other mixed feelings. Pain, was because she was not waving, nor was she smiling as usual, when she saw him. Pain, was because of her disappointment in him, which turned into burning fury, and then into cold and unforgiving venom in her eyes. Pain, was because of his fury with himself for doing such a thing to her.

She did not utter a single word and walked straight to him. The surge of adrenaline came at the right time when she slapped him across the face. Her fingers were so slender - yet so painful, in his heart. As she turned away as abruptly as she had made her appearance, his hands gripped her slender ones firmly. She tuned to look at his eyes, and saw in it the buckets of remorseful tears shed, and the countless nights spent in sleepless anguish, yet she forced herself to turn away. What he had done was an unforgivable sin.

"That night," he started, but never ended.

"You slept with her!" She ended it for him instead.

His mouth opened and closed repeatedly, but all that came out was faint noises of helplessness. Unwilling to wait for his explanation for fear that she might change her mind, she flicked her wrist gently, signalling him to let go. His numb hands, however, were no longer under the control of his blank mind - blank with guilt. Forcefully, she released her hand from his seizure and stalked out of the room.

He stared at her as she left - all he saw was a perfectly sculptured body, and silky hair that reflected the lights of the early morning, giving a glow like a halo. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief and looked intently at her again - yes, that was all he could see. He could no longer see the love for him in her.

He may survive the future days without her, but the sense of guilt will never fade. The harm is easily done, but the guilt in himself not easily undone.

2006-05-19T22:20:00.000+08:00

I heard the noise again - much clearer this time, for it was coming from right behind me...

Two weeks ago, Tom and I attended one of Jerry's fortnightly parties. The mellifluous hum of after-dinner conversation gradually came to a decrescendo as the other guests left one by one. Finally at nine o'clock, the living room looked nothing less like a drug addict's den - cushions, ripped open, were lying on the floor, beer cans were like land mines, bones could be found in the most awkward places - under the sofa, on the blade of the fan, in beer bottles... and lying on the floor were three drunk teenagers piled on top of each other, who apparently, could not take more than two glasses of whisky.

I woke up an hour later to find myself in a pitch black living room. It was not my first visit to his house, but somehow the living room appeared eerily sinister in the dark - maybe it was because of his great-grandfather's portrait glaring down at me in the thin rays of moonlight that managed to slip through the curtains, dancing menacingly with the fierce wind. Suddenly, loneliness knocked me hard in the head - where were the others? My eyes darted around the room searching for them, or at least their shadows, but my bat-like vision failed me - dark silhouettes, that appeared like silver threads under the moonlight, was all I saw. Just as I was about to bellow their names, my ears responded a fraction of a second quicker than my mouth did - I failed to emit any sound because at the exact moment, I heard a noise that turned the gushing blood in my veins into red ice.

It sounded not unlike a tap dripping in the unknown depths of the house, the curiously hollow sound made me visualize an invisible hand tapping a drum, sending tremors down my spine. It stopped for a minute or so. Then I heard the noise again - much clearer this time, for it was coming from right behind me. I turned around swiftly, only to find a sight that filled me with nothing but horror - Jerry, his right hand, soaked in blood, was gripping what seemed like a foot-long knife, which reflected the gruesome object dangling in his left hand - Tom's head.

...

Everything in me told me to run, but nothing in me was able to. My heart stopped beating, my lungs stopped working, my limbs stopped obeying my mind. The only images that appeared in my mind were the times we had fun together. But why this? Why now? Why? I never got my answer.

Paralyzed with fear, I watched him as he raised his knife, ready to stab me - but fell face down onto the floor instead, revealing the wound in his back that Tom gave him in their fierce fight moments ago. I wanted to thank God, but all I did was opening and closing my mouth repeatedly, making faint noises of relief.

I may have survived the ordeal, but that scene is not going to be easily erased from my memory. Why?...

2006-05-17T23:31:00.000+08:00

I'm feeling super dooper whooper mooper flooper high today! Chin ups, yeah! Basketball rocks my life, again and again, never fails to. And I burnt so many people today with my treys. Kar Yong I love you, you boost a hell lotta my morale. *Just keep burning, just keep burning, la la la (:*

And Eva. Yeah, I'll save it. Don't think I'll ever be able to stop once I start on her. It's a compliment, by the way :D

Yay Maureen. Yay Bellebelle. Yay Roy. Yay Victor. Yay "brokeback". Yay Lawrence Tan. Yay Denesh.

I like you people. I love you people. I yay you people :D

1961's a nice number. You invert it, you get 1961 again. And you're not satisfied, so you invert it again, and voila, another 1961! So amusing, I love this number. What an elegante (It's French, pronounced ele-GONT.) number.

Biology I love you. Old man Jeffrey Goh I love you. Social Studies I love you. Krishnan I love you. Maths I don't really love you. Denis Leong I kinda dislike you. But whatever, it's my high day and nothing, I stress, nothing, is gonna spoil it! Not you, yes, you! Not even you, don't even give the slightest shadow of a thought about it, muahahahaha!

2006-05-16T14:30:00.000+08:00

He's in a bad mood now.

The courts, the fringe, the swoosh, my haunts.

He'll come back to me later, so he avers.

Reminiscent of a virus, at a complete standstill, stationary, waiting. Time pauses, for him, and him alone. A severed epoch, a severed life. Waiting for something, something as yet unknown, waiting blissfully - blissful ignorance. Trigger it off, boom. A massacre. The trigger you ask? He knows. He knows perfectly well, that the answer, is to be sought within. Yet, they search and they give up, then we search again and we give up again. Why? Never, underestimate the destructive faculty of a virus, of him. Remember, a massacre.

Velour bags, plush clothes, swanky houses. Does it really mean that much to you? A dilettantish worshipper, of your so-called art. What is love to you then? Nothing more than a fallacy? Love, a fallacy, how very true. Truly pathetic, yet truly convinvcing. The truth is ugly. Dr Jekyll should remind you. The beautiful lie, or the hideous truth? You choose. The truth is ugly.

He's back :D

2006-05-16T00:42:00.000+08:00

Oh yeah! I forgot to mention about the doctor today during my appointment. She speaks teen lang! How amusing! And she's like 30+/40? This is so cool.

I entered the consultation room and went like, Yo, Doctor Koh! I was trying to be funny, and act retarded, Mum stared at me. And almost instantly, the doctor complimented me with a Yo, you're like, *squints down name list*, Chester right? C'mon, let's take a look at your X-ray. *Mum asks if there are any signs of improvement when doctor compares two X-rays* The doctor goes, Duh, no! How in the name of bonkers can we see anything in three weeks? So fun! Ok, I added the in the name of bonkers thingy, but hey, she speaks teen lang! Cool, I wanna have a hip doctor for my leg, yeah!

Next appointment 29 May, first Monday of holidays. So umm guys, don't think I'll be going back to Malaysia for the June holidays. Guess we're gonna have to wait till December, both you guys and I ): But hell, I'll forget about things that make my eyes go red (except maybe, lack of sleep?) Be a happy man :D Though my IQ and maturity is far from a man, sigh.

2006-05-15T22:45:00.000+08:00

I'm feeling like a tortoise stuck in its shell, motionless, helpless. Yet under the sunshine and rainfall, I flourish, I grow into a tortoise tree due to photosynthesis in the presence of sunlight and chlorophyll.

- me, bored.

Chatting with Bobo now. I pissed him off. I backstabbed. Sorry man. Oh yeah, your name isn't man. It's B-O-Y-A-N-G. Sorry Boyang. (That previous sentence wasn't supposed to be sarcastic, though I may sound so.) Sorry. Screw me. I'm drunk. Screw me again. I'm dead. *Head droops towards left side and neck breaks due to pathetically big and heavy head filled with nothing but puerile ideas about life, life and life again.*

Bobo is the best guy/gay/girl friend in the world. Man I love that guy. It's fate. It really is fate. We didn't share the same pants by chance. It's fate. It's all fate. I didn't backstab him subconsciously. It's fate. Everything's fate. Glad I knew you man. And don't go around telling the whole world about my long abandoned secret. You're the second to know about it, excluding the stupid idiot who left me no choice but to ditch it, so yeah, be silent, be very very silent :z

I'm not gonna talk about basketball today. Mum'll murder me if she finds out I've been playing basketball every single day. But that's not the reason I'm not talking about basketball. In fact, I've already wasted four sentences on it. Since I've already done so, I shall talk about it, discreetly. Umpteen treys and ten chin-ups. That sucked. That sucked alright. That sucked big time. So many from the three-point-arc and everyone still treated me like a real handicap, have I not proven myself worthy enough to score as well? Hey I can't run, but I can shoot, isn't 17 threes enough? God I can't remember the last time I shot so many in a game. Well, fair enough, I'm a bai ka after all.

Bellebelle, cheer up (:
Zhixin, get well soon (:
Moppeng, we didn't lose (:
Boyang, let's gay (:
Elvis, surprise surprise surprise (:

I've just realised I've got no school today! Today as in today 'cause it's officially Tuesday now. Holiday due to some election day thingy, not too into politics, I'd rather be a rocket scientist, on second thought, I'd be a faecesist (variation of physicist).

Rock on, people. Holidays, or holiday, in this case, always rock! :D

2006-05-14T00:38:00.000+08:00

It's now 12.36 AM. I just re-read my 1970-word frustration essay, dated March 30 (don't go hunting for it, it's the one Freewebs gobbled down, I've got my own backup copy.) I saw myself two months ago, then I look at myself now - time doesn't fly - it's just *poof*, gone. Not unlike life.

The exact same lines appeared again during Drama today:
A: Life is short.
B: Can you think of anything longer?

Classical. I was a jiang shi today. The living dead, the hopping dead, the retarded dead. Then I thought about death, would I be a jiang shi after I die? Laugh. Laugh all you want.

...

Because I'm laughing too! I think I'm super spastic. I am. To the loo. Blue duck.

2006-05-13T22:01:00.000+08:00

We screwed our drama. First time in CHS history. We got a Gold. And that was it, that's all, just a Gold. We failed to defend our Second Place thingy. Blame me, folks! For God's sake, and Allah's, Buddha's and Jesus' sake as well if you're Muslim, Buddhist or Christian, blame my freaking leg!

But who cares? I had my fun during the impromptu :D And that's all that matters (: Make everyday a happy one - my philosophically philosophical philosophy.

My leg acted up again after the impromptu, torturing every single nanometer of neurones inside me. Teared again. I'm really gay, I cry everytime it hurts. Ok I don't cry, they're tears of pain. But still, it makes no difference in making me look sissy. And Bellebelle appeared (: Thanks for the water and tissue offer -.-

Went to Parkway Parade after all the boos and boos and more boos to VS. Poor gay Soo lost his handphone twice, poor Elvis was so stressed up about tomorrow, and poor me with my poor leg. The only unpoor one was Bellebelle. And I mean literally unpoor - rich. She can call a private helicopter to pick her up anytime before you can even spell "Her Dad's got a second hand Mercedes-Benz, which is cooler than something that's not so cool!"

Yoshinoya was fun. Soo was dieting. And my report card had its virgin exposure to their eyes, their "Wah!"s and their "Wow!"s. Fortunately my retarded picture was in safe hands, or rather, safe between my legs. And Soo went to some sports shop, hoping to get a chin up bar thingy, but we ended up punching bags and signing casts - like siao!

Thanks for everything guys :D Best I-don't-know-you-and-neither-do-you-know-me outing ever! Spastic Soo tried to go up the steps with my crutches, my one-legged hop beat him easily, no sweat (: And thanks to Bellebelle's Dad for the detour too, and Elvis and Soo for tolerating my handicrap (handicap + crap = handicrap).

2006-05-13T05:11:00.000+08:00

Whew! Finally finished my layout-ing! It's like, 5.30 AM now, and I'm still wide awake. Why?

Drama starts in three hours. My leg is killing me, my brain is killing me, my eyes are killing me (Ok, so maybe I'm not so wide awake after all.)

Didn't do much about the picture, but I've managed to steal a few codes from her. Yeah, I'll tell you tomorrow, or today, rather (: Finally understood the cheem weird codes here too, so yeah, tralala, I'm a happy kid :D By the way, does anyone have any idea how I can edit the date and time of the posts?

I feel like writing more, but my mind is blank and my head is like drop, drop, droping off my neck. So now I'm gonna have a brokeleg, a brokeback and a brokeneck. Cool!

Going to catch some sleep. Don't think three hours'll be enough, but... Good morning (:

2006-05-12T01:27:00.000+08:00

I'm back! From prelims, yay! (:

Last day, last paper... not! I've still got Social Studies on Monday 'cause I missed half the paper last last Monday, y'know, my leg. And yes, my leg!

I shot so many three pointers on my leg today! Realise I say leg instead of legs? Oh, this is so fun. The matron sceld (past tense of scold) me though, "bu pa si ah?! (Singlish: not scared die ah?!)" It's at least 20 outta 40 three pointers. Imagine if my left leg heals, Mathematically speaking, I'd be able to score twice as much :p

And I think I'm putting too much pressure on my right leg because I was hopping on it all day, yeah, hopping, comical, but who cares, it's not like i can choose not to. Think my right leg muscles would me so many million more times more powerful than my left in two months time that when I do standing broad jump, my left foot jumps 100cm and my right foot jumps 300cm, then i spread my legs open gracefully like some ballerina. I think I do have some ballerino (male ballerina) cells in me after all :D

Yes folks, there's more! I did 8 chin ups as well, I think I'm seriously bu pa si, in other words, siao! I jumped all the way up the basketball bar thingy where I usually do my chin ups - all by myself. Did 8, then I jumped down myself again. I think I'm gonna break my leg someday, Roy and Victor and company were looking at me, speechless but not daring to come near as well, in case I fell and broke my second leg, so that the blame would not be on them.

I saw Boyang and company, including Eva and Agnes, and new faces like Hannah and Karen and forgot-who. Boyang, remind me :p The cheers were quite lame (sorry about that but I'm just being honest :p) but the games were fun, Concentration and Heart Attack, new to me (: Everything became so Eva-oriented in the end. And I taught Boyang what E=mc^2 was :D

So to sum up, today is my high day! (Today means yesterday, it's now 1.30am.) Thanks everyone for making a cripple's day a better one, love you guys, the best friends in the world! :D

2006-05-07T16:18:00.000+08:00

I wonder. But I can't seem to get an answer. In fact, I never did, I never do, and I never will.

What am I wondering about you ask? That's exactly what I'm wondering about. I'm wondering about what I'm wondering about. I'm wondering why I'm wandering and not wondering about my wandering. I wonder about wanton mee. I wonder about wanton women. I wonder about Alice in Wonderland. Hey, so I do know what I'm wondering about! But in fact, I'm wondering why I'm wondering about what I'm wondering about. The wonder of wonders.

Won lider, two lider, three lider Indians - six lider Indian gays. Simple Maths says 1 + 2 + 3 = 6.

But nooooo! Russell Peters says We cannot have gay Indians!, or at least his Dad says so. So we shall listen to his Dad, after all, his Dad is his Dad, which makes his Dad, his Dad. So we shall not defy the Law of Gravity.

Russell Newton, Russell Peters' Dad, says that the Law of Gravity states that he states that the Law of Wonder states that the Wonder of Gravity states that he is a lollipop. So I have no choice but to conclude that Russell Lee licks lollipops when he writes his ghost stories. Now for the Moste Importante Big Q - Who is Russell Lee?

Yes, the Ultimate Question! Yes, yes, I know, I know, many of you are intimidated by it. Fear not, people, for I, yes I, the King of Lollipops, the God of Lollipops, the LolliGod, His Superior Lolliness, am here. I am here to save you from Lolli-World-Domination. So who is Russell Lee?

*Drums rolling rapidly to a crescendo* He is none other than Ang Lee's evil twin. Yes! It's official, folks, Russell Lee is the evil twin of Brokeback Mountain director Ang Lee. Evidence you say? They share the same last name! Duh. So are UgLee and Leem Beh evil twins of him. In fact, evil quadruplets. And where did he get his inspiration for Brokeback Mountain from? A book he says. Well he's lying!

Actually he's not, he's merely making a lie look so realistic it becomes so fakelistic, then it becomes so fakelistic it becomes realistic again. Fact: He made that author write the book Brokeback Mountain so that he could use that book as an excuse to shoot a movie about his brother Russell Lee! (Names have been changed to protect the privacy of Russell and his gay partner.)

More more more! I've got more evidence. Why did Ang Lee name himself Ang Lee? His Chinese name translates HanyuPinyin-ly into Li An, so why Ang Lee? I'll tell you why, Ang Lee has undergone an OTCHSSTTEHMCRH! Or Operation-To-Change-His-Sex-So-Thouroughly-That-Even-His-Mother-Can't-Recognise-Him in short. Notice Ang Lee -> Li An -> LiAn -> Lian -> Ah Lian! So he used to be an Ah Lian before he became who he is today!

And that's why he changed his name to protect his previous identity because he was in love with his brother Russell Lee back then when he was an Ah Lian! So Brokeback Mountain is actually about the love story between his brother and him - based on a true story! Let's get this straight...

Russell Peters has a Dad called Russell Newton, who came up with the Law of Gravity, which states that Russell Newton himself, states that the Law of Wonder, states that the Wonder of Gravity, states that Russell Newton is a lollipop, therefore Russell Lee loves lollipops, and is actually the evil twin of Ang Lee, who turns out to have two other evil quadruplets UgLee and Leem Beh, and shot a movie about himself and his brother Brokeback Mountain, because his mother can't recognise him.

Yeap, and I think that's pretty much about it.

2006-05-07T09:58:00.000+08:00

Y'know what I hate about all them drug dealers, dog? They give it to their boys, man! They don't give it to their mommas, they don't give it to their sisters - they give it to their boys, damn! That's why I hate 'em, nigger!
- some HBO movie.

Fanny is awesome, more than awesome. In fact, more than words.

Now about that quote up there (caught it on the way to dinner)... Why do blacks love calling each other dogs or niggers? There was this movie about some high school basketball team we watched during Carpe Diem, Mr Coach forbade the boys from using those words, 'cause it lowered team spirit. (?) According to him, the whites before Abraham Lincoln's or Martin Luther King's time called blacks dogs or niggers as an insult, so dogs or niggers would demoralize the team. How logical, you sure about that, Mr Coach? Blurrr. Anyway, yeah, how true that statement is about drug dealers. Selfish.

There goes EDS Night. Blame the leg. But actually I'm not that upset about it, look on the bright side, who knows... If I attended the concert (is it one?), I might just fart halfway through while everyone's enjoying and stink the whole hall up and everyone would turn to me and realise I'm not a Dunmanian and chuck me out of the hall, then as I'm picking myself up suddenly this blinding spotlight shines down on me, I try to run but it trails me wherever I go, so two seconds later I give up and try to look up, try, but when I look up, all I see is total darkness, then I can't believe my eyes, so I look down again, again I see total darkness, so the word blinding in blinding spotlight is literally blinding, now I'm blind, yay! Then all of a sudden as I try to do a moonwalk in darkness, just for fun 'cause I've never tried moonwalking blindly, I feel myself being lifted off the ground and into this weird UFO, then eerie sounds start to freeze my blood, then my blood thaws again as I fart, for the second time, 'cause the fart releases heat energy strong enough to counter the cold-ness of the eerie sounds. As my blood thaws, I continue farting - the fart that thawed my blood had not stopped, that's a record! - but the heat energy released is so much that my blood begins to boil, then my eyes turn red and I can see again, everything's red-scale though. Then I see this dark red thing with a two-anused-butt growing off his face (or is it an oversized round nose?) approaching me, he speaks from his anus (!) "Thou have deux legs!" he says, oh alright, it says, in some weirdo yet fascinating language I've, in fact, heard before, from some lunatic I once saw 13 years 12 months 32 days -1 hours 0.273 minutes and pi seconds ago. Yes! I couldn't be wrong, I mean, how many people did I meet 13 years 12 months 32 days -1 hours 0.273 minutes and pi seconds ago? So back to the UFO, after the dark-red-two-anusedly-butted-thing talks to me, it rushes to a corner and excretes a yellowish goo from its left anus and a white ghostly goo from its right, somehow the anuses are positioned so that the excretory products fall on the same spot on the floor and voila, we have a banana split! Don't ask me how I can suddenly see full-scale, I forgot how. Oh no, I mean, yes! Now I remember how, it must've been the moonwalking that unblinded me, yes. That's why you don't see many blind Michael Jacksons around, do you? As I'm speaking, my nose is starting to fall off - moonwalking does have its side effects! And I die even before my nose falls off, because the banana split splitted yellowly.

So you see, all this going to EDS Night thingy would murder me! So it's a good idea I stayed home :D Look on the bright side (:

2006-05-06T01:53:00.000+08:00

Don't be surprised. I've not been online since Tuesday, but I've been blogging offline, uploaded everything today, so... yeah.

Had two nosebleeds yesterday and three today (assuming it's currently Friday although it's technically Saturday). I dunno why, everything's weird. My nose is acting weird, my brains are acting weird, my hands are acting weird, my specs are acting weird, my legs are weird.

Geography sucks. Why did I take that shit of a subject in the first place? Should've dropped it centuries ago and get something more cheem, like English Literature, so that I could blame all my failures on the cheem-ness, instead of my laziness ): I am lazy, it's general knowledge, common sense, whatever you call it. And now, I've got the best reason in the world to be as lazy as I want - "Oh Mr XXX, I took three painkillers last night and the paracetamol made me feel drowsy, so I fell asleep straight away without even starting to mug the first page, oh I'm so sorry, oh please forgive my failure!" - the perfect excuse :D --> :) --> :| --> :( NO. I can't be lazy, 'O's are here, in six months time, that is. But sometimes I just want a super looooong break, like a hundred years of hibernation, like Snow White. Was it Snow White? The one who slept for a hundred years and was awakened by the supposedly-magical-kiss-but-it's-actually-bad-breath of Prince Charming, yeah I think it's Snow White. I wouldn't wake up if he kissed me a million times, brokeback. Sleeping is better than gaying. Sleeping's the best sport in the world - when you're bai ka, like me (:

Went for appointment today (as in Friday). Umm, the usual, doctor talked quite a lot about something that can be summed up in one line - I need a full cast. So there you go, a full cast for me, it's literally ROCK HARD. I can't scratch even when it itches like hell, like now! And another X-ray too, not much improvement in the fracture, the same for deprovement, so the doctor estimated it will be on for at least two months, and I can resume basketball after... *drums crescendo-ing* SIX months. What a yay. What-a-yay. In other words, no more hope for basketball this year, 'cause the big 'O' comes in six months time. Pathetic, yeah, I know. But look on the bright side, I got a new cast, which doesn't stink when it's wet, 'cause it's water proof, duh! And it's lighter and smaller, which looks and feels much better than the previous one, which was a disaster. So, yeah, keep looking on the bright side. Though it's already 2.00am and there's not really a bright side, unless you count the streetlights :D

2006-05-04T23:57:00.000+08:00

I realised my last few entries were all about my leg, it's boring, so I shan't talk about my leg in this one (:

Smooth exam and smooth trip home. No, I'm lying ): Chemistry Paper 2 was a killer paper, for me. I slacked during Paper 1, slept for 20 minutes, darn easy it was. Since Paper 1 was that easy, I expected Paper 2 to be far from what it was as well. I'm lost, the last sentence is kinda weird, but whatever, not in the mood to clarify things now, forget details. To sum up, Paper 1 was super easy and Paper 2 was super hard. I love kindergarten terms. Who was the idiot who complicated matters by inventing this thingy called grammar?

Not lying about the smooth trip home though, thanks Mr Krish, again, for the million-and-first time :D Stories about MOE and RI and direct teachers and old age and stuff along the way, excellent story-teller he is, keeping me awake all the way from Bishan to Tg Rhu. Think I overused my stay-awake-cells on the way back, slept for four hours just now :p Or has it got something to do with something I promised not to talk about today? Very likely. Never been this tired before that incident I'm not gonna talk about happened. Hey, I used to play from 10am to 10pm, literally. But what's gone is gone, I'll never get that back... Never. But ballet rocks!

Mum came and we had dinner and stuff. Now I'm mugging Geography, ok honestly I'm not. I'm blogging. Mugged one chapter and I thought I'd slack, since I haven't blogged today anyway. So, yeah, here I am blogging. And I think I'll go back to that yellow book now. (The cover of my Geography textbook is yellow!)

2006-05-03T23:19:00.000+08:00

I screwed my History paper, not gonna say much about it, feeling guilty, Mr Krishnan's gonna be very disappointed ): A Maths was ok, two-hour paper, Mdm Ee gave me 30 minutes extra time because of my leg - "Walau, why you sit like that? Not pain meh? Ok lah, I give you 30 minutes more to finish your paper because your writing speed might be affected by your sitting position." So I said yeah, but yay! I finished the paper in an hour's time, so I spent one hour 30 minutes sleeping, ok no. I spent only half an hour sleeping, then an office girl thought I had fainted (!), she woke me up and I explained everything. Tried to go back to sleep, but my body was apparently unable to take any more rest (?), so I spent the last 30 minutes checking my script over and over and over and over and over till I fell asleep, again. In the end, I handed in the paper after two hours anyway, didn't want to waste another 30 minutes sleeping. I think I spent those 30 minutes wisely and effectively, I think. Mugged enough History to write myself two two-paged essays, ok lah, I thought, at least I won't fail :D

Eva saw me when I was collecting my laundry. Shucks! I didn't want anyone to see me in this state, I thought their training started at 4.00pm? But oh well, maybe the coach decided to have it earlier, or maybe I have bad memory :p Anyway, she was not the only one who saw me, in fact, everyone saw me, everyone in the courts. No escaping, so I pretended I was ok and perfectly fine and went to play basketball with my junior. Shot a couple of three-pointers, one-handed-shots, of course, needed the other hand to hold on to the crutches. Surprisingly I scored twice, yay! (: Excellent mood. Never felt better... Ok no. I have felt better, and guess when that was? Last night! Thank you.

2006-05-02T17:45:00.000+08:00

Not all who wander are lost. - JRR Tolkien.

How true. How very true. Thank you.

For cheering me up.
For giving me hope.
For saving my life.

I truly appreciate it, truly. Thank you :D

Mum and Dad came down yesterday. Had dinner at some food court and the floor was so oily my crutches slipped away, sending my whole weight down onto my injured foot. Don't have to say much, do I? It's a level of pain so high that no word, or words, can describe, at least my poor vocab says so. I wasn't screaming, nor was I whining, or crying out loud. My mouth was opened, wide, but all that came out were noiseless moans, noiselessly torturing. No, it's not ironic, noiseless moans, it's true. It's not something you normally do, it's not something you're normally able to do, it's... I dunno. It's something I did. You can start picturing me, collapsed on the floor, eyes closed, tears of agony streaming down, mouth wide open, no sound coming out, everyone's staring, no one's helping...

Today was Social Studies, I was right outside Jeremy the Geek's room. He had Ah Boon's office all to himself, and I had to face the wall in this narrow corridor. Fair world eh? Did only one SBQ when my leg started to ache like hell, it was killing me, not unlike yesterday. My hands were trembling, I was scribbling more than writing, I couldn't go on, I couldn't think properly with my leg in that state. Fortunately this office girl saw me and went to call Mr Krishnan. Surprisingly Panda came along as well. And after all the talk and talk and talk, Mrs Oh sent me home. Took painkillers and slept for five hours.

Mr Krishnan just called me and advised me to take the paper, so... do I hava a choice?

2006-05-01T06:01:00.000+08:00

I cried. I'm crying. I'm finally crying.

I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a crippleeeee.
I don't wanna be a cripppppllleeeeeee......

It's now 5.30am and I'm not asleep yet. It's not like, I just woke up - I'm not asleep yet. Cleared SS at 4.30am and took Joe's Tablet PC back to his room with only one crutch, seven minutes. I took seven solid minutes to walk a distance of 20 meters, with a crutch in my left hand and a Tablet PC, its adaptor, its plug and a pencil case all forcefully stuffed in my right. It was a miracle I didn't drop anything. Where was the world when I needed them, badly? You think it was easy? It's hard enough without a leg, worse without a leg and a crutch, 'cause I needed a free hand to hold Joe's stuff. I rested in the study room for 20 minutes just to relax the muscles in my right leg after a mere 20 meters - I was feeling fatigued after a pathetic 20 meters! What was wrong with me? Nooooooo!

I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a cripple.

The touchpad is now wet with my tears. I can't move the cursor properly. I don't wanna be a cripple. Why? WHY?

I managed to cram a laptop, two SS textbooks, a dictionary, a file, and a water bottle into a plastic bag. I had to put them in a plastic bag. How was I to bring all that shit all the way to the lift, up the lift, out of the lift, and into my room? I didn't have hands. My hands became my legs. The crutches were my new legs. I've lost the ones Mum gave me. Squeezing everything into the plastic bag, I tied it to my right crutch and embarked on a journey of dread, doubt and despair from the sixth floor to the seventh floor

An excruciatingly exhausting excursion. I had to stop at every ten meters to stabilize myself and my crutches, and to check that the plastic bag was not about to surrender to the weight of its content. Those were the hardest ten meter intervals in my life.

Stopping every time just to realize that I still had that much to go. Stopping every time just to wonder if I was gonna die painfully, yet so soundlessly, if I slipped and fell while everyone was asleep. Stopping every time just to hate myself even more, for being a cripple.

So many times, I wanted to give up and just lie on the floor till the next morning for someone to help me up. So many times, I wanted to give up and just jump down, I saw no difference between cripple and death - I was useless either way. So many times, I wanted to give up and just sob there, hoping that Mum would hear me and appear out of nowhere to love me, to help me.

No. Nothing. None of these came true. I didn't lie, I didn't jump, and Mum didn't come. In fact, I lost something precious during the voyage, 20 minutes. I took 20 minutes to get from the sixth floor to the seventh, impressive. Worse, after that agonizing helluva journey, I reached my door - to find it locked! What the hell is wrong with you people?! I'm just a freaking cripple and you're locking me outta my room? What? I'm gonna steal your pillow? I'm gonna wake you up from your wet dreams? I'm gonna rape you? C'mon people, I'M JUST A F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G C-R-I-P-P-L-E!!! Please... Puh-lease... Plee-he-hease, don't do this to me, I'm begging you. Hell no. Hell No! HELL NO!

I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a cripple.
I don't wanna be a freaking cripple!

I banged on the door till I woke the whole block up, literally, but my roommates were either sleeping like pigs, worse than pigs, worse than the God of Pigs, or they were pretending to be aurally handicapped. Either way, they were the only ones in the whole block who were able to continue with their wet dreams with me creating havoc at 5.30 in the morning. And to think that one of them, I'm not naming anyone, is the first to wake up in the entire block every morning. The more I think about it, the more I get pissed? No. Not pissed. A feeling far worse than being pissed, it's a disappointment in a friend, a friend I've always trusted, a disappointment in him to the point of abhorrence!

I counted, I banged the door 11 times with my fist, 7 times with my palm, and 3 times helplessly with my head. I was at the point of physical and mental breakdown, what the hell was wrong? Physical because all I felt was pure, raw fatigue after the trip back to my room, and after mustering all my strength only to get a nil response from the other side of the door. Mental because everyone in the world seemed to turn their backs on me at times of desperation and helplessness.

Why are you people doing this to me? All I'm trying to do here is sleep, sleep, that's it, nothing more... I banged my head against the door for the final time out of helplessness and stayed in that position for two minutes, tearing and shivering uncontrollably. I thought I was alone, suffering pure grief, pure sorrow, and pure anguish, all by myself. I was wrong.

Staring at me 50 meters away, with a pair of scissors in his right hand, was this PRC who detested me since our first day at school, I never found out why, but I thought I was about to find out how, as in how much he loathed me. God he had a pair of scissors in his hand! We were both trembling, him with fury and me fear. I didn't know how long he'd been staring at me noiselessly, but apparently he didn't miss the scene where I banged the door loud enough to wake up residents in Jurong. Throwing his weirdo Chinese curses at me, he gathered speed in my direction, but surprisingly, stopped when we were 30 meters apart. He held his scissors high in the air and threatened me with words I didn't bother to catch. I wasn't in the mood to be threatened, nor was I in the mood to decipher his sickening Beijing Chinese. I was still in terrible affliction, so I ignored him but pretended otherwise for safety reasons, God he had a pair of scissors!

He went back to his room, still cursing, not bothering to keep it under his breath. A sigh of relieve, almost infinitesimal, imperceptible, but all the same, I was alive. So many things in one night, one morning actually, but it's not the end yet. I dared not hammer my door again, in case the PRC had a chainsaw kept safely under his bed for emergencies like this. Unable to do anything about my sleep, my roommates and my door, I decided to go to Tan Kian Boon for help. I wanted to hide my plastic bag, as I was not about to carry it all the way to the fourth floor again - no way, but at the same time, I was wondering if the PRC would suddenly come out and spot my stuff and throw it down the balcony or something. So I ingeniously hid my plastic bag behind a couch in the lounge (:

I went down to Tan's place, hoping he could do something about my room and the PRC. I'm skipping details about the effort I took, it's obviously not ABC. I battered away at his door more than I did at my door. Again, my hope turned to frustration, then to wrath, then to sorrow, and finally to helplessness. I lost it. I just collapsed onto the floor. Numb I was. Tears were far from expressing what I felt, they had dried up ages ago. I just sat in front of his door, staring into space, thinking about the days when I had two legs. I remembered running crazily on the courts, being the one with the highest stamina, playing from 10am to 10pm. I remembered the "Ball please!" from others and sprinting to retrieve the ball for them. I remembered how hard I worked for my 2.4. Reminiscence is cruel.

After the memories - joyous, yet so piercingly painful - I got back to my foot and tried his door for the final time. He came out. He saw me. He conquered my door. Veni vidi vici. Forget about the details, thing is, somehow, he managed to find a key to my room and helped me, as well as my stuff, in. Thank you, Mr Tan. Thank you, Mr Tan. Thank you, Mr Tan. He became the best man in the world since then. He didn't do anything particularly great - he didn't have to. All he did, and all he had to do, was to help a crippled boy fulfill nothing more than his simplest hope, sleep. Thank you, Mr Tan.

It ain't fun being a cripple. I need people everywhere and anywhere, every time and anytime around me. I can't get myself a cup of water from the pantry. I can't go to the toilet without the fear of slipping and breaking my leg. I can't stop walking when my muscles ache - it's tiring to hop on one foot, even with crutches, and my muscles ache every ten steps. I can't study for prelims because my painkillers cause drowsiness. I can't go down to get meals myself because the aunties would let me go first, and the queue stares at me, disgusted, you know PRCs. I can't bathe without a chair inside. Yes, funny... think about me!

Oh it's fun alright. It's fun having a broken leg for a few days, I get a cast and people sign on it, yeah, fun. But try a week, I can't even bear three days, three pathetic days!

2006-04-30T21:30:00.000+08:00

I feel... useless.

I haven't blogged for many days. Four days to me, is many days, because many things happened in these many four days. If you're confused by my sentences, then you're normal - sane, that is. But if you could understand my sentences perfectly well and make every head and every tail out of it, then you're, duh - insane. 'Cause even I don't know what I'm saying. Hey, look, four lines of crap.

||||------
Converting from muggy mode to crappy mode: 40% completed.

I really sound very un-me. Reckon it's got something to do with my leg. I'm crapping alright, but it's the wrong kinda crap, not the usual lamey crap that doesn't seem to make people laugh. It's the kind of sad crap that I crap when I'm desolate, when I'm helpless, when I've lost all will to say anything non-crappy.

I feel... useless.

Wednesday, specs cracked. Thursday, got an almost-fatal blow on the left cheek by Lin Danwen. Friday, sprained my ankle and fractured the bone. And the link? Basketball. All three disasters happened during basketball. I'm an atheist. No I'm not. Oh freak! This is driving me nuts. I dunno if I'm an aethist or not. All I know, is that some mysterious power out there either attempted to murder me three times, or wanted to make me lose my love and passion for basketball once and for all. Either way, you've failed, Mr Mysterious Power.

||||||----
Converting from crappy mode to angry mode: 60% completed.

Let's get this straight: Ok, I'm assuming that everyone knows about the specs-cracked-by-some-hairless-gay incident. If you don't, please kindly scroll down to read the previous entry. And if you don't know what down is, it's that direction *points downwards*

Now for Thursday, I was playing basketball with Lin Danwen after our first and last drama rehearsal before the finals. And Mr Lin, at the extremely fragile age of 50+, tried to steal my ball - with his fist! Dumb? Nope. DUMBER THAN DUMB! Even the most imbecilic imbecile in the world wouldn't use his fist to steal a ball, guess dear old Chinese teacher from China hasn't even got the IQ of an imbecilic imbecile. First of all, how're you gonna grab the ball after you steal it, with your fist? Secondly, if you fail, think about your victim, he's either gonna get whacked, or he's gonna get whacked - he's definitely gonna get whacked, and if he's that unfortunate, at his genitals. I was lucky enough to get bleeding gums and teeth. Literally. Bled like... like it never bled before. The basketball court seemed like some crime scene two minutes later, with spots of my precious blood all over the place, leaving a weird-looking trail which did not look exactly like a trail, but more like the fur coat of a dalmatian lacking green- and blue-coloured pigments. He apologised. I repeat, he apologised. And that was it?! Like a simple apology would make my gums heal faster? What a jerk of a teacher! And it wasn't like he was colour blind or something, he just didn't have the conscience to do something about it. Pissed, more pissed than pissed, and even more pissed than more pissed than pissed, I grabbed my bag and sprinted to the toilet to clean the mess, thought I looked like some bloodsucker in the mirror, a leech, a mosquito, a vampire. But ten minutes and the blood miraculously dried up, miraculously, because that was quite a lot of blood.

And Friday was the worst day of my life... No, not exactly the worst, but bad enough to get in top 10 - fractured ankle. Basketballing as usual, then MJ tried to steal my ball, half-succeeded-half-failed. Succeeded because I lost my ball, failed because he didn't get the ball either. It went rolling off and everyone pounced to grab it, amidst all the chaos, I was pushed towards the ball, and somehow, my left foot landed on the ball, which was rolling. So naturally, my foot went rolling with the ball and... *Tries to imitate the sound of a bone cracking* I lay on the floor, face down, clutching my leg in agony. It hurt like hell, worse than hell, in fact. Whining like an injured dog, I rolled around for almost a minute before Roy helped me out of the court. Not swollen, I thought, should be able to play again ten minutes later.

Sometime before the ten minutes was up, out of nowhere came a soccer ball which smashed right into my face. My nose felt the same as my ankle. I was speechless for a few seconds, wondering how on Earth and where on Earth the guy was aiming. If he was aiming for my face, congratulations man, anyone who took a better shot than that would be God. But obviously he wasn't, so brother, YOU'RE AN IDIOT! Quit soccer for the benefit of mankind and womankind. Don't injure the guys and disgust the girls. The piercing pain in my ankle wasn't enough for Mr Sadist, he wanted my head to hurt as well before he was satisfied. Well, there you go, happy, Mr Sadist? I cursed him, called him a female dog. Two seconds later I realised it was an accident and said sorry, thrice, so if he didn't hear it, I really dunno what to say. The victim apologised alright, but he, who either didn't realise he kicked a ball into someone's face, or pretended not to realise that, went for his ball without a word or a glance at me and wiped the mud off it, that was so...

1. He kicked a ball into my face.
2. He pretended not to realise it.
3. He did not apologise.
4. I, the victim, apologised.
5. He went for his precious baby ball and wiped it clean without a glance at me.

In other words, his ball meant more than my face to him. Ok, whew, sprained my ankle and disfigured my nose, but still alive and talking I am - or I thought I was. After all that chaos of The Chronicles of Me: the ball, the nose, and the sadist, my attention went back to my leg, and more shocked than shocked I was. It swelled to the size of my fist, literally, really literally. My leg was as thick as my thigh, I just stared at it stupidly, not knowing what to do. MJ got me an ice bag from the canteen, many thanks man. The ice-therapy wasn't really that helpful, but the point is MJ even bothered to get me an ice bag (: Then tick tock tick tock, five minutes, and it rained.

Lying in the rain with my school bag and books two metres away, I didn't know what to do. I realised I couldn't even rotate my left foot, used every tonne of strength and all I managed to do was wriggle my toes. I teared, what was wrong with me? I was gonna play basketball ten minutes later, but I didn't even have total control over my left foot. I sweated, what was wrong with me? I tried my best and I only managed to mobilise my toes. It rained, what was wrong with me? It was raining, I was getting drenched together with my bag and books, and yet I couldn't do a thing about it. My tears, my sweat, and the rain, became a mixture of liquid despair, which trickled down my face, I licked some of it, salty.

Roy saw me there and realised everything. Helped me up to the AO, thanks man, or I'd have drowned in the rain. I couldn't stand, I couldn't walk, but I could jump! - nah, hop actually, on one foot. It was tiring, extremely. And comical as well. The matron gave me crutches and we went to Choong's, he said it's definitely a dislocation but quite unlikely to be a fracture, because according to him: "Young men have very strong bones." But he still referred me to hospital anyway.

I never took my first step into hospital. I was pushed in - on a wheelchair. Me, Clep, crazy basketballer, on a wheelchair! I thought of the times I saw people on wheelchairs and wanted a taste of it, but now, it's humiliating. I had to be pushed around, I couldn't decide where I wanted to go, I couldn't go where I wanted to go by myself. And all that time, I tried to sound cheerful and amused in my SMSes, it was hard. The hospital doctor took one glance at my ankle and said it was definitely fractured - directly opposite of what Choong said. Guess Choong isn't that professional after all. The hospital doctor said he still needed an X-ray for confirmation, but he told me to be prepared. Then I thought, what is there to be prepared for? If it's fractured, it's fractured; if it's not, it's not. It's not like, the fracture would heal in five seconds if I was prepared. So I went into the X-ray room with a blank mind, hoping for nothing and not hoping for nothing, in case i got too disappointed and commited suicide by smashing my foot against the wall.

So as he predicted, it was fractured and I was referred to the bone-department. There's a cheem name for bone-department, forgot the word =p I'll skip the details. Thing is, I'll have a plaster cast and crutches, and if it doesn't heal in a week, I'll need surgery. Mum freaked out when she heard about that. The dumbest thing of all:

Male nurse finished casting and calls doctor...
Nurse: Can?
Doctor: Nope, fail lah, too high, how can he bend his knee?
Nurse: Walau, like that also fail? Aiyah, ok lah, redo lah.
Doctor: *Takes a medical electric saw from a cupboard, scary. Like Kill Bill 2.*
Nurse: I not sure leh, I've only used this once before during training.
Doctor: Just do it lah.
Nurse: *Hands trembling (I felt that), saws a top portion of the cast.*
Doctor: Ok lah, can lah.

And what the hell were those people thinking? Having their little conversation as if I was not around? Scaring the shit out of me! But I emerged alive after the torturing process of forcing my foot back to a 90 degree angle with my leg, realise I use the word forcing. Got medicine and crutches. The physiotherapist who was supposed to teach me how to use crutches was late - by an hour. AN HOUR! I was on the wheelchair for an hour, bored to death, worse than death. Then he came and taught me all the basics and climbing staircases and stuff.

Went back to hostel. Had a good night's sleep. The bunch of insane Sec 3s signed my cast like siao yesterday. Expletives, criticisms about the school, love, racist jokes, lame jokes, graffiti, everything. I shan't talk about my sufferings with the cast on, spoils my mood. I'll be happy today and forget about my handicap, temporarily :D (It'll all come back when I go bathing later...)

2006-04-26T23:03:00.000+08:00

Glasses askew, white tee turned grey, hair tousled, he dragged his feet back to his room, with the left frame of his specs lens-less. Cracked.

Cracked! My three-week-old specs, cracked. Dad's gonna slay me into a-million-to-the-power-of-a-million pieces. May he who stepped on it be damned. May he who stepped on it rot in hell. May he who stepped on it... I dunno, just don't let me see him again, ever! (Actually I doubt if I'd recognise him :p)

I was the only non-green moving thing, other than my ball, in the greenish-green of the green courts. So it was no one else, but him, who broke my specs. Him, that guy with his hair sickeningly spiked, and his pants too short, revealing his disgustingly hairless leg - gay. Stupid gay who stepped on my specs and didn't have the guts to own up.

Two hours of basketball and he was the only one I saw, couldn't be anyone else, could it? Unless i was hallucinating, which is highly unlikely, 'cause I'm now looking through my forced-in-cracked-lens at the computer. Grr. Grr. And more Grr.

I left my wallet, handphone and specs on the steps and went to play at the other side. Minutes later I saw this gay who was standing beside my stuff and staring at me, then he glanced down at my stuff, then he looked up at me again, then he walked away.

I pictured the perfect story: He must've found a wallet or a handphone and thought that it was mine, but when he came to me, he saw my stuff lying safely on the floor, and decided that it wasn't mine, so he walked away. Logical? Perfectly, if you ask me. But in life, sometimes the most logical things aren't quite the facts. And of all people, I had the misfortune to come across a case like this.

So now for the facts:
1. Left lens cracked in two.
2. Managed to force the pieces back into the frame, pieces pop out occasionally though.
3. Still able to see quite clearly.
4. Dare not tell Dad about it.
5. Told Mum instead, and told her not to tell Dad.

My teeth are killing me, now. Cheng Hung the Bear (a really sick Bear, sick in the mind, that is.) just attempted to force his handphone into my mouth two seconds ago, I tried to retaliate by biting it, but seems there's a limit to the width my jaws can be stretched, and unfortunately, the size of his 3310 exceeds that, and this resulted in a violent clash of my teeth with his phone. Both sides ended up losing, me with my teeth suffering excruciating pain now, and him with his handphone saliva-ish.

The things exam pressure can do to one...

P/S: Yay! I'm in love with my new skin, quite thick it is, according to Zhixin. But I did it by myself - all by myself - I'm so in love with it :D

2006-04-14T17:14:00.000+08:00

Eva just pointed out that the whole Vice-captain no.6 saves the day thingy revealed a lot about me. She said the whole game was about some battle going on in my brain, and Vice-captain no.6 saved the day, so what does it imply? In my brain, Zhixin is the hero.

NO! It was supposed to be random numbers! And I didn't like the idea of the Captain scoring, because that would be the perfect ending, but my life ain't perfect, so I needed an imperfect ending to make the story perfect. And since the other small fries were not good enough, so the next best choice was the Vice-captain. The names are supposed to represent the different functions of different parts of the brain, but I think I got them all mixed up, so whatever.

So dear Eva, if you're thinking what you're not supposed to think, stop it! And I'm not changing any part of the story just because of you. The random numbers meant something, Captain no.8 was definitely random, and Pretty Eyes was supposed to be a small fry, so I gave him a small number 2, and his name also implies that he was a bit gay. So perfect no.8 minus a little bit of imperfection no.2 gives no.6, which says something about my life.

Simple Maths: 8 - 6 = 2

Sometimes that little bit of imperfection makes me happy. If I had everything I wanted, I wouldn't have any goals that I can work towards, then what's the meaning of life? I've thought about it, homework is good, because I never do it (: And if I can do well in exams without doing my homework, that's something to be happy about =p And if I had to hand in that piece of work, copying would be much better than doing it myself, because I don't just copy anyone's work, but y'know, Xianhui or Edmund. So I know I get the right answers, aaand I learn when I copy (I'm not like any other copier, I check the answers before I copy =p). I can kill two stones with one bird! Homework is good, when you don't do it (:

2006-04-14T15:41:00.000+08:00

Guess my clothes are just gonna rot under my table ): The laundry people are weirdos, but I'm not gonna say much about them now, because somehow something somewhere in the hidden and locked up and almost-forgotten-but-not-yet-forgotten part of my brain is suddenly unlocked and it's telling me to turn from heckcare-mode to mugging-mode because Prelim 1 starts NEXT WEEK! But me, myself and my body doesn't want to, so I'm now having a conflict within myself. Left Brain Hemisphere (LBH) wants to mug, Right Brain Hemisphere (RBH)... surprisingly also wants to mug. So what's stopping me from mugging? Medulla Oblongata (MO) (Chong Siang rocks!), I think. Don't ask me what that is, I've got no idea myself. But I think it's the part of the brain which controls involuntary actions, correct me if I'm wrong. And sooo, since I'm involuntarily unwilling to mug, I shan't mug then (:

LBH vs RBH vs MO. Who's gonna win? This is the greatest game of the season, three strongest teams, tied with a score of 97.65713 each, are battling to the last brain cell at Stadium Somewhere-between-the-left-eye-and-the-right-eye! MO in possession now, player no.8 Captain SOS (Sense of Smell) dribbles the ball past player no.4 LM (Lousy Memory) of LBH with that mind-boggling eye-puzzling nose-picking move: under-the-armpit-and-over-the-head (UTAAOTH)! He makes a spectacular cross to player no.2 Striker PE (Pretty Eyes), PE is now surrounded by 47 players from RBH, he spots player no.6 Vice-captain FIG (Food is Good) hiding in the audience, ready to pounce out anytime in any case of emergency, he signals FIG and kicks the ball high up into the Forehead, FIG immediately leaps out from the chaos of the crowd and tries to reach for the ball suspended in mid-head for 7 milliseconds, with his agility and superior mid-head skills, he succeeds! He's landing, but wait! What's that? NO WAY!!! Last 3 seconds on the clock and he's trying that move? If he does it, MO will win 0-0-1. But what if he fails? He won't be able to play in Overtime with all his energy used up in that move, and without Vice-captain FIG, MO will lose! What a huge bet! Is he gonna score or is he gonna fall? (Weird sentence, but I made it rhyme to raise tensions, and to sound more poetic too =p)

Is he gonna score or is he gonna fall? Stay tuned ladies and gentlemen! We'll be right back after the commercials, don't go away!

Commercial 1: *Man runs and runs and runs till he gets all exhausted, then out of nowhere comes a woman who offers him a drink, he drinks it, feels all refreshed and runs again. "Juicy Juice - your best companion for running!"* My message to kids: Don't drink anything offered by a strangers, especially women who appear out of nowhere when you're running and get exhausted.

Commercial 2: *Father asks son if he wants to go to Disneyland, son says no and takes out some viagra out of nowhere (this out-of-nowhere-thingy is starting to get boring) and tells his father: "Why go to Disneyland and stand for two hours only for a two minute ride? Vicious Viagra gives you the same effect too!"* My message to parents: Don't get your kids exposed to such commercials at such a young and tender age, someday they'll give you sex ed.

Back to the game! What? Sorry folks, the game's ended. Don't ask me how, but Medulla Oblongata won! Seems that move: points-to-the-sky-and-says:-"hey,-it's-a-plane,-no-it's-a-bird,-no-it's-Superman!"-to-distract-everyone-and-score-when-nobody's-looking (PTTSASHIAPNIABNISTDEASWNL), by player no.6 FIG was perfect and flawless and MO scored! I wasn't paying attention to the game because I, like each and every single one of you viewers, was watching that second commercial, but since the computer says MO won, so MO won! What a great game!

Medulla Oblongata won, so I'm not gonna mug, at least not now =p Crapping is so my thing, say it's lame, I don't care, I'm happy with myself and my crappy life (:

2006-04-04T17:25:00.000+08:00

I didn't really finish mugging Geography last night. I sorta like, read through only. And most of the reading was done at the clinic, that was the only time i could concentrate anyway. And when I say concentrate, I mean really concentrate. Concentrate to me means mugging like hell with super high efficiency [being able to remember every single detail after reading through once only] and not even basketball could influence me. Well actually basketball could have influenced me, but there wasn't one at the clinic anyway. Basketball always makes me forget everything. At least it's never failed to do so :D I love that big orange ball, and that's why I HATE RAIN! I'll talk about this later. It's pissing me off. And i don't want to be pissed now.

*Forgets about being pissed and clears throat* Ahem. As I was saying, I didn't really finish everything in the textbook but I didn't care about it anyway. Just pretended that Paul Ng would fall sick today and went to sleep peacefully. Unfortunately, he didn't. But i wasn't surprised at all. My pretend-ings have never came true before anyway. They're just wild imaginations that kick my conscience out of the way everytime I'm about to slack. Because I always thought that if they somehow did come true, I could claim that I had psychic powers. Me and my imaginations. I think I'm sick. Sick as in sick. Those poor kids you see in Tanjung Rambutan having imaginary friends and hallucinations all the time. I'm gonna join them soon. Trust me.

I went to school and slept for another 45 minutes. I dreamt that it was raining and we skipped flag raising. But I was woken up by Ben Tay. He was knocking my head with my own A Maths textbook and telling me to go for flag raising. Nice dream. But it was still a dream though. Only a dream.

When the question paper was on my desk, somehow I just didn't panic. I was like, well, I didn't study enough, so failing isn't such a big deal. That felt good. Never felt that good before a test before. It's weird saying before twice, but it's not grammatically wrong, is it? Seems a good way out. So the next time I don't feel like studying for an exam, I won't study. Then I can take the test more relaxed-ly because I've got every reason to fail it! I mean, it's a fact that I didn't prepare for the test, so I can't expect to pass. And if I do pass because the teacher is being lenient or crazy, then that's something to celebrate. This sounds like the perfect *ideology* for exams. Think I'll adopt it more often =p

Then after the test [which I think I can pass *feeling lucky*], Mr Ng asked me out. Ok, he didn't ask me out, that sounds like dating me. *vomits*. He asked me to have a talk with him outside the classroom. I was wondering how he knew I didn't study. I mean, he hadn't even looked through my answers yet. Thinking [and hoping and praying that] it was because of the Geography Challenge, I went out, trying my best to look relaxed. I think I must've looked weird. Like in the movies, when a guy's like, going for an interview, he tries to look confident but we all know he's damn nervous, and he's got this really weird and funny expression on his face - a consequence of trying to make yourself feel what you don't really feel at all. Ah, ignore that, it was crap.

So I went out and had this looooong chat with him. Lasted the whole History lesson. Danny Tan didn't come anyway, so I didn't mind. Mr Ng was quite concerned about how I was coping with stress. Actually I wasn't coping at all, I was trying to forget, to escape. But I told him my problems anyway. Guess what? He further convinced me that the only solution out is religion. But I'm not ready for that stuff yet. I need answers! Somebody. Anybody. Help!

*knocks head five times till it hurts* I wanna scream! I feel like recording my scream and posting it hear for the whole world to hear. But i guess nobody would want to damage their speakers, huh? *dismisses the idea*

Now, the thing that's making pissed these few days [last week too]. RAIN! It was raining. It was raining last Monday, and Wednesday, and Friday, and Sunday, and yesterday [Monday], and today [Tuesday]! I remember the days because these are the days I didn't play basketball. No actually I ignored the rain last Friday and yesterday and played on. But it still doesn't change the fact that it's been raining like hell. Ok, hell doesn't rain, so it rains worse than hell!

I thought I was smart enough to see the pattern, I was wrong. You see, it rained last Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. So i thought, Mathematically speaking, it shouldn't have rained yesterday, but it did. Aaand at the most crucial moment when I just went down [I thought it wasn't going to rain so I did my homework and had a nap first]. Ok, I said. Dingapore doesn't have that much water, does it? Since it rained on Sunday [thunderstorm!] and Monday, two days in a row, it shouldn't rain today. And i was wrong again. Grrr!

Now it's three days in a row. Listen here, sky, I'm pissed with you and I'm not gonna let you drop one single drop of rain tomorrow, you hear me? NOTHING is gonna fall from the sky tomorrow! NOTHING! And this time I'm 100% sure. You don't have that much rain, Mr Sky! Muahahaha! *starts thinking I'm retarded - talking to the sky?!*

2006-04-03T22:05:00.000+08:00

I hate Hydrogen. And Oxygen too. Because they react to form water. And I hate water. Because I hate Rain. RAIN! Why are so many people *adoring* you? No. Not him. Not that Korean dude with funny looking eyes and hair. I just brought him in 'cause he just came to my mind all of a sudden. I hate rain. As in rain, rain. Literally.

Moppeng attempted to wake me up today. TWICE actually. I disappointed him. Sorry man. It was 5.30 AM. Moppeng left. I walked round and saw Hong Liang and Chong Siang still sleeping. They were DEFINITELY gonna miss the bus. So I said. Ok, I'll miss the bus too. Slacker I am. So slept till 8.00 AM. Whew that was fun. Won't tell you what I dreamt of. Not writing down here anyway. Ask me.

Then dot dot dot, dot dot dot, dot dot dot. Came back at 11.30am. By the way dot dot dot means see doctor and get MC. Mugged a bit of Geography. I hate agriculture. I hate so many things. This entry is full of hatred. Ok, I'll TRY not to hate so many things later on =p Then I slept. Then I woke up. Speaking of woke up.

QUIZ:
Quoted from a movie: My cousin watched this video tape a week ago. And this morning, he woke up dead!
Where's the funny part of this sentence?

Tag your answers somewhere down there *points to the bottom left*. Then I woke up. Then I did two comprehensions. I love that sense of achievement! Then I went down to play basketball. WHY DO YOU PEOPLE TRAIN AT THIS TIME? Nah, actually it's not their problem. It's mine. I knew they were supposed to be training but I still went down. Pretending one of their coaches would be sick or something. Actually, can't anyone do anything about it? Why are the volleyball teams and basketball teams training on the same day? No more courts! Well I played for a teeny weeny while. Then disappointed I went back up. Did another compre. Came back down.

It was going to RAY-HAY-HAIN! Again, I pretended the clouds were Indian and played my ball. Then had this little match. With some weird guy who at first sight, I thought he was pretty good. But he turned out otherwise. Call it solo-ism. But he didn't even give me a chance to pass. He kept hiding behind this real wide guy. Who apparently, is Zhixin's classmate.

Then halfway through the ball rolled to the next court. And Zhixin [I didn't know it was her then] was about to kick it back. And I was still running towards it. And BAM! Wrong sound expression. And PLOP! The ball hit my knee. And she claimed she said sorry. And she claimed she said Hi. And I think she's not lying 'cause she was blinking her eyes. But that was because of the sand. And I went chasing after the ball. It was comical, for her. For me, it was like, retarded. And she's a fair lady. It didn't hurt at first. Then it hurt like hell. 'Cause I suddenly realised it hit the blue-black area. But I played on anyway. And it still hurts like hell now! But it's alright. I think.

Well, about my secret. I'm disclosing it to two people. One person knows about it already. There's this second person who doesn't know yet. But I won't tell you directly. You have to ask me if you think it's you :D Have a little faith in yourself. Cheer up!

2006-04-02T16:19:00.000+08:00

15.28 Started on Geography Chapter Five.
15.57 Chapter Five cleared. Yay!
15.58 Started on Chapter Six.
16.04 Demoralised by the 50+ pages of Chapter Six. Stopped quarter-way.
16.05 Slacking.
16.06 Slacked for one minute. Teeny weeny bit refreshed. Started on Pompeii comprehension.

I forgot when I finished my Pompeii comprehension. Because I started chatting with Eva once I finished it. And after this I still have the Giant comprehension. And the Florence Nightingale comprehension. And the Mayflower composition. And the bus composition. I'm dying. Oh yeah, before I die. I still have four chapters of Geography to mug. Which adds up to about *shrugs* 100+ pages I think?

Just did two sets of ten chin ups after my apple dinner. And two sets of forty sit ups. Tireder than tired. Exhausteder than exhausted. It's so exhausting to say exhausteder.

I have a secret.

2006-03-31T22:28:00.000+08:00

Today I am sad. So I'll align everything to the right.

Came home early. Skipped Sports Night. Felt like dying. The sleep on the MRT was good. It was empty. Came home and napped for another thirty minutes then I was all ready to play basketball. Had a couple of one on ones. Won them all. Shot a couple of, nah, many many many three pointers. Quite amazed by my accuracy in the rain. Hmm, sometimes I impress even myself. Shit I sound cocky here. But it's alright. 'Cause I'm sad today. And I can say anything I want to say. And I can do anything I want to do. It's past ten now and I haven't had my dinner nor lunch. All I had today was a bao for breakfast. And to think that I played basketball ... for so long ... in the rain. I'm good. I think. I saw Eva. Actually, Eva saw me. Then she went: HI! CHESTER. YOU'RE CHESTER RIGHT? Like fearing the whole school couldn't hear her. Then I was like: yeah... *feeling awkward* Then she asked if she could have a few shots. I said ok. She had one shot. One is not a few. It's one. Then I continued shooting. Then Zhixin and her friends came. Then she said Hi Chester. Then I was stunned. 'Cause I didn't think it was her.

To be continued...

Update: I think I'm gonna get in the Guinness Book of Records for the most to be continued entries in a blog if Mr P's not gonna stop his habit of booming into the computer room out of nowhere all of a sudden. Anyway, I'll keep this short 'cause the last entry was sooooooooooper long.

'Cause I didn't think it was her. I was wondering who on earth was that? Ok. She said Hi to me. She knew my name. She was smiling. Then a thought struck me... I turned around. Nope. Nobody there. So she wasn't like, saying Hi to another guy named Chester behind me. No. So it must have been me. But do I know her? No. At least she didn't look familiar. I didn't know any girls from DHS anyway.

Oh yeah I did. But not in person. As in person, person. Then I thought of Zhixin. Shit I felt so bad. She said Hi and I was stunned there. Like... dunno. Then I said sorry then she replied me said I looked stupid or weird or something, forgot. And I'm sorry I said *giggling girls*. But that was what I saw. Or maybe 'cause I wasn't wearing my specs. And what does bimbotic mean?