Monday, August 29, 2005

I just wanna scream... nobody listens to me...

[Quote of the post] There are some things so serious you have to laugh at them.
[Song of the post] Why must this happen to me - Simple Plan

What a day. Argh. This next few paragraphs are going to be quite insulting, so I don't mean everyone of you in my class, okay? Just those few...

I made my speech today. Not technically a speech; it was more like a couple of sentences. Kinda expected when you're eating into recess. Pun not intended.

Laoshi was there. If Laoshi didn't take that extra five minutes things may have turned out differently. Not that I'm blaming her. She has enough on her hands.

Anyway, due to the lack of classroom attentiveness, I couldn't make my entire speech, so it didn't quite have the shock therapy that I intended it to have. Ah well. Nothing ever goes according to plan anyway.

Well, it ended just as I expected it would: everybody rushing off for recess and not having taken in a word I said. Obviously. And, even more obviously, Gid came up to me and hugged me. Argh. And Isaac too. I couldn't breathe.

If all the apologies and consolations I got were pennies, I would have 20 right now, but that's not the point. I'd rather have the class actually listen to what I say and carry it out than 20 or 76¢ or $42,070,118 for that matter. Just for once I wish that somebody would actually listen to what I have to say, respect my needs and cut me some slack. I may seem selfish, but isn't that what consideration is all about? Sacrificing your needs for somebody's selfish others. It's a vicious cycle.

The scratch of pens on paper marked the beginning of the test. It was simple, and yet so difficult. One could say it was simply difficult. The problems were easy, the trick was that you had to use algebra to solve them. It doesn't take a genius to guess what the class cried as Ms. Mazlind announced the test.

Uncle Edna's pen raced across his paper. "This is actually quite easy," he thought. Then the noise began.

It started as a gentle humming in the background. Nothing too serious; his head usually buzzed when he was thinking. Slowly but surely, it grew, like a great swarm of bees drawing closer and closer. It just needed one thing, one single catalyst, and they would all attack, their droning louder and louder, buzzing in your ears, drowning out all other noise, you can't hear yourself think...

"SHUT UP!" The fire of seven months of angst, anger and irritation lit up his eyes as he yelled it across the room. Kevin Wong looked distinctly worried. A anonymous "Whoo!" surfaced from the depth of the clustered students, all cramming around each other, trying to copy, discuss, make their way through the loophole in the test system.

Eyes still alight, he looked back at his paper. He wondered why it didn't burst into flames straight away; he was staring at it so with a hatred that burned deep, leaving scars that cannot heal in such a short time.

"It's a record," he thought to himself. He had spoken to them a mere two hours ago. A couple of sentences explaining that he was very stressed and wanted the class to cut him some slack. "I can't believe I actually thought they would change." He buried his head in his hands.

The noise level rose and fell like an ocean wave. The smallest of comments sparked another slow burst of flame, but the quick retort of "Shut up, lah!" brought it down again. As time passed, the duration of the breaks of silences decreased, as did the number of "Shut up!"s.

He started pacing the room, clutching his head. He couldn't think. The noise... drowning out thought processes... Ms. Mazlind crossed the room. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Yeah, I'm fine; I'm just thinking," he lied. He sat himself down and begun to write a few more figures.

Like a ticking time bomb to the volcanic eruption of Krakatoa, the noise level broke the sound barrier as the teacher left the room. She'd be back in ten minutes, but the decibels had skyrocketed once the teacher's foot disappeared outside. His mind was on overload again: the anger, the frustration, the uncapability of shutting out the noise while trying to find the value of x at the same time. His anger bottled up inside him; he wanted to let one rip, but he kept it in. He was gonna blow. Any moment now.

On a more lighter note, I'm in the IB programme. Yay. Most of my friends are in as well as a couple of some people. Some friends didn't make it though. I hope that they get past appeals.

Oh, one more thing. If you're going to the ACS(I) Prefect Selection Camp 2005 as a Nominee, the do NOT under any circumstances bring a gigantic SuperSoaker 5000 with hydraulic pump action and 500ft. range. I've been there before. They'll take the gigantic bazookas and pass around the handguns. Then they'll announce that they have immunity and you're not allowed to shoot them. And the have the big guns and are allowed to shoot you. Think about it, and spread the word.

That's about it for today. If you believe in miracles, come pop by my class and see for yourself. You'll be a skeptic in no time.

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