Monday, July 31, 2006

Forever and ever

Pooh, there's something I have to tell you
Is it something, nice?
Not, exactly
Then it can wait
It can, for how long?
Forever and ever

Forever and ever
Is a very long time Pooh

Forever isn't long at all
When I'm with you

I wanna call your name, forever
And you will always answer, forever
And both of us will be
Forever you and me
Forever and ever

I wanna stay like this, forever
If only I could promise, forever
Then we could just be we
Forever you and me
Forever and ever

Forever and ever
Is a very long time Pooh

Forever isn't long at all, Christopher
When I'm with you

I wanna be with you, forever
I want you right here beside me, forever
One thing you should know
No matter where I go

We'll always be together
Forever and ever

Tuesday, July 25, 2006


[Song of the post] Perfect - Simple Plan


How can you know and yet not do. How can you be conscious of the fact that you can do something, you should do something, you MUST; and yet not do it. How can you know what should be done, yet be unable to do it.


Three weeks ago (was it really that long?) I did something really bad. I tried avoiding people because I couldn't trust myself. But people still came to me, to help me. I thank them. And they mostly said about the same thing: that I was too perfectionist; that I was trying to be too "saintly".

And why not? After all the books, after all the movies, after all the stories and games and television shows, how can you not try to be? After the countless tales of the error of human nature, after all the evil overlords and wicked stepsisters, how can you not try and change yourself, become "better"?

I hobbled up to class today because my muscles were still very weak and I couldn't walk very properly. I used an umbrella as a walking stick. And someone, I will not say who, someone said, "C'mon, stop acting lah. We all know you like acting, so just give me the umbrella and let's go."

Why would he say that. He wouldn't say that unless I gave him reason to say that. I act too much? I'm not serious? I'm a fraud.

Or maybe I'm just like the puritans, trying to rid myself of some evil that doesn't exist and eventually falling into that evil myself. And in the case of what one should do, I shouldn't be doing this right now, this is just stupid; I have galaxies of homework I have to do and besides, normal people don't worry about stupid things like this. Normal people don't think about being perfect and holy and all that rubbish, so why should I. Why am I.


Sunday, July 23, 2006

Gauntlets of Ogre Strength +3

[Quote of the post] "I'm not str... not strong enough." --Mr. Incredible
[Song of the post] Canon in D - Rock Version

I'm not strong enough. I never was strong enough.

Another fever, another twenty-four hours of mind-wrecking muscle pains. Even now, my arms are still so fragile, my legs so weak...


I fell sick again on Friday. Sore throat and sneezing in the morning, but that Friday was going to be a wonderful day. I told myself, I must be strong. I went to school.

I ignored the chill winds of the air-conditioning. Ignored the increasing lethargy in my limbs. Ignored the slowing down of my mind. I kept ploughing on, through the day, because that day was supposed to be great. And I couldn't fall sick, because the next day was very important.

An hour before school ended, I had a slight fever. I was sent home. Maybe I shouldn't have sat in the air-con 74. At least I didn't fall asleep and end up in Thomson.

I took lunch at home. The hot food made me sweat. My mom couldn't tell if I had a fever because I was sweating too much. Hmm. Maybe if I got well in time, I could still go for the Math seminar. I went to sleep for an hour to recover. Kev called me; I woke up. He asked if I was going. I thought for a bit. Which is more important? FPS > Math seminar. Alright then, I'll forsake today. I should go rest so that I won't be sick tomorrow.

I woke up again at about 4.30pm. It was cold. But the sun was shining... oh no. Fever. And it suddenly wrapped itself around me, a chill so cold I curled into a ball. Shivering, trembling, I cried out. My mom brought me to my bed. It was so cold...

I took medicine. The fever started to subside. That was good. Then there was something else. Something started rising in my legs. A pain, a burning pain... I couldn't move for the unbearable pain. I kept shouting. The pain was too much. I couldn't take it. My mom told me to keep quiet and stop wailing. It was irritating. I couldn't take the pain. I couldn't. I was too weak...

At night, I thought I could make it for FPS training. No, it was too cold. I could barely speak; my teeth chattered and my words stuttered. I let them know I couldn't come, but I was worried. What would happen the next day if I couldn't make it? I had to know. I had to be strong; I had to heal myself by tomorrow or - argh, the p-pain... th-the c-c-cold...

I called them. I had to know. And when I spoke to them, their voice, their words of care and concern, the soothed the pain, they brought the warmth... and then they had to go. I had to hang up, and the warmth was gone; I was plunged back into the dark nightmare of writhing pain and freezing cold.

That night before I slept, in my fever-induced-delusion, I thanked everyone. I thanked everyone I knew who was worrying about me, who was caring for me, so that, in the slightest chance that I didn't make it...

But I did. The next morning, my fever had gone. My muscle aches only hurt if I exerted them. I could go for the FPS competition. I wouldn't be letting the team down, wouldn't be letting Mr Azmi down. They all put too much into the dream for me to dash it against the rocks just because I got sick.

I got there. A little late, but there nonetheless. I managed to hobble around the campus with my "hurricane". We did the problem. It went quite well, whatever Zhang says. The team postponed the FPS lunch to a time when I got better. So I had to go home.

But I didn't want to. That was where all the cold and pain was. But I had no choice. So I went home, and slept. Had lunch, then slept again. All the way through, until... it got cold again. Mild fever. Too cold... couldn't move... And then I started worrying. If I have fever now, that means that I'm still not well, which means that this morning I still wasn't well, which meant that I could have passed my virus on to anyone of my friends. I wanted to call, to see if they were alright, but then I hesitated. That would be stupid.

And so I have mild fever relapses throughout the night. This morning, though, I'm fine, except for my nose (which still runs) and my muscles, which are still sore.

I still have half a world of homework to finish. My arms still ache and my head still hurts, so getting through them isn't really easy. Coupled with the fact that I could have another fever relapse at any moment...

I'm not strong. I'm weak. My body is weak; my mind is weak; my soul is weak... I'm not strong, desperately clinging on to straws that might help me, supported by other, bigger, better, stronger people. And how am I supposed to help other people, if I'm not strong enough to help myself.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

I am.

I am the pencil that draws curtains and breath
pictures and comics and colours of death

I am the sensor that tries hard to feel
yet emotions I project may not be real

I am the fire causing you and me pain
spluttering and crying teardrops in the rain

I am the story which knows what I should do
but reality has a different point of view

I am who I am, but not who I should be
the thunder of lightning and the crash of the sea
Of fragments and layers like broke glass and ogres
I am inside me a world full of monsters

Wednesday, July 12, 2006


[Quote of the post] “There’ll come a moment for you to do the right thing.” –Elizabeth Swan
“I love those moments. I like to wave at them as they pass by.” –Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest
[Song of the post] Pirates of the Caribbean Soundtrack

There’ll come a moment for me to do the right thing.

Choices are hard. Choosing is essentially putting something above another. And… I… just…can’t… do… that… x_x

But decisions have to be made. You can’t walk both paths at the same time. One has to be chosen over the other. To be put in priority while the other shifted back, away from the spotlight.

This is the second decision I’ve been torn apart over in the last two months. (Torn apart meaning I’ve spent more than ten minutes contemplating this; doesn’t count angsting.) The first one was a struggle; a struggle between the needs of six other people and my own needs. I chose my own. I still don’t know if it was the right thing to choose.

Second one was today. This one was about two different people’s needs, not my own. I had to choose one. I did. The person not chosen; he says it’s okay. But I can feel that it’s not okay. I still don’t know if it was the right thing to choose.

There’ll come a moment. Do the right thing.


Dead Man’s Chest was AWESOME. Loved the plot, loved the characters, loved the effects, loved the dialogue, the humour, the twists… simply great stuff. I’m booking my World’s End tickets now, if you don’t mind.

Friday, July 07, 2006

No Way Out

[Quote of the post] "So that's what Park meant when he said, 'Oops I pless wrong button!'"
[Song of the post] No Way Out - Phil Colins - Brother Bear

Everywhere I turn, I hurt someone
But there's nothing I can say
to change the things I've done
I'd do anything within my power
I'd give everything I've got
But the path I seek is hidden
from me now

Brother Bear, I let you down
You trusted me, believed in me
and I let you down
Of all the things I hid from you
I cannot hide the shame
And I pray someone
Something will come,
To take away the pain

There's no way out of this dark place
No hope, no future
I know I can't be free
But I can't see another way
I can't face another day

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

The Reason

[Quote of the post] "You said the world doesn't need a saviour. But everyday, I hear people calling for one." -- Superman
[Song of the post] The Reason - Hoobastank

I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didnt do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

and the reason is you
and the reason is you
and the reason is you

I not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that i do
And the reason is you

Daniel posted this song some time ago; I didn't recognize it then. I guess it kinda explains why I'm doing what I'm doing now.

Stay happy, don't worry about me.

Monday, July 03, 2006

I'm not here

[Song of the post] I'm Still Here (Jim's Theme) - Treasure Planet Soundtrack - John Rezenik

Welcome back to school. What a week it has been.

There’s been something that has been eating at me ever since Saturday. And now I got a lot more questions that won’t be answered.

Saturday: writing 周记 for the part about self reflection. It’s something like this: the mind is split into two parts, conscious and subconscious, right? And when we make decisions or do stuff the conscious part actively supplies reasons to do those things and make choices. But then we also know that the subconscious also, subconsciously, affects how we think and reason and decide. So, how can I know that whatever reason that I supply to my consciousness is the real, right reason, instead of an excuse by my subconscious to cover up the reason which it is supplying?

It’s like, you see a friend in trouble. Decision: help or don’t help. Help. Why? Reason: because he’s my friend, and I have to help him. How do I know that’s the real reason? What if that’s an excuse, a cover up, a lie, a fake reason supplied by the subconscious to hide the real reason. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because he will like me more. Because other people might see and praise me.

“Even the best decision, if made for the wrong reason, can be a bad decision…” –Governor Swan, Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl

How can I trust myself anymore? How do I know that whatever I do, whatever I decide, I’m doing it for the right reasons, and not for some selfish, personal, subconscious reason? How does the subconscious get populated anyway? With instincts, and with the other side of books, the darker side, it’s like whatever I read gets filtered and the evil sinks into my subconscious.

And what about doing something just because it’s the right thing to do? Every time I see a situation I’m like, what should I do now? And, if it’s with strangers, I’m scared I won’t do the right thing because it would feel so stupid. It’s like, whatever storybook situation, whatever fantasy solution, decision, action; in real life it would feel so stupid.

Monday and Tuesday: rushing Chinese scrapbook. By the early hours of Wednesday morning I was super tired and almost didn’t clear up the mess of newspapers and glue-stuck paper that was on my floor. And when I look at my scrapbook, it looks really, really horrible. And all that effort I put into each article, it feels so wasted when you know that you’re not going to win anything anyway.

And then I ask myself why. Why didn’t I finish it earlier; why couldn’t I have done a better job? And I know the answers. Because I procrastinated. I didn’t feel like doing homework that day. Oh look, I finished this bit; I’ll do the rest tomorrow when I feel like it. A stupid conscious reason, influenced by subconscious feeling. It’s not like people don’t know what they should do. It’s just that they don’t do it.

Tuesday: Chemistry practical. Making crystals with different chemicals. I burnt through my sample on my first trial, and then exploded my boiling tube on the second one. And I stupidly touched a evaporating dish left over a Bunsen flame for fifteen minutes. My worksheets got splattered with a mixture of lead nitrate and distilled water, and I got crystals that looked like gold dust.

You know what it’s like to be bad at something? I’m always the slowest doing chem. prac. and I’m always rushing to clean up at the end. I keep making mistakes; keep messing up stuff; it’s sick being a colour-blind chemist; and I’m always one of the last.

This has nothing to do about you being better than me. When you’re really bad at something in class, you’ll be behind. Alone. And I don’t like being alone. And when you’re good, really good at something, you’re out there, in front, alone. And I don’t like being alone because when I am, my thoughts come out to play.

Why can’t everyone be the same? Then there’d be no discrimination, no loneliness… but if everyone was the same the world would be boring. There wouldn’t be life. The world never works out to be what you want it to be.

Wednesday: Start of The Crucible by Arthur Miller in Language Arts B. Wonderful. If there’s anything that can help my mood, it’s Literature. Mr. Wong started out with the themes, which was stuff about “purification” and “separating the good from the bad” and “inner demons” and whatnot. He said that when people go through difficult situations, their true colours show. And about Proctor fighting his inner demons, which everyone has, and nobody is perfect, and whether and how you fight your imperfections that makes you who you are. Thank you Herrick, you made me laugh.

Thursday: Philosophy of Disipline with (some other) Mr. Wong. Started on what philosophy is and was, and about three great philosophers of ancient times. Philosophy is about questioning the fundamentals of the universe we live in. That’s probably what I’m doing now.

Watching The Crucible in Language Arts A. The actress for Abigail looks a bit like Keira Knightly. More inner demons. Abigail is just… horrible. But Parris and Hale aren’t any better.

Poetry in Language Arts B. The wonderful thing about Literature poems is that they’re almost never happy and they almost never rhyme. I’m probably a boy in a bowler hat.

PC lesson was switching around seats with Mr. Quek. There’s an old saying which goes, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”. Now I’m right at the back. Well, not right at the back, but still far away from the board. And further away from you.

Then there was the whole Boey-Kevin episode which was… it wasn’t really frustrating, just… there. And I don’t think I’ll ever understand either of them.

At night, talking on the phone. First trying to comfort Boey, then confiding in Zhang. I don’t think I went about the right way doing it. I didn’t do anything to help him. I think I actually fed more coal to the fire. And then Zhang. I didn’t want to tell him. But in the end it just came out. Everything – well, almost everything – in this post. I told him (and Kev) the same thing: don’t worry about me, I’ll deal with it. Turns out I can’t. Am I that weak.

Friday: Youth Day celebrations. First people mocking me about my flowery shirt. Then I followed Boey around the entire school campus because I was afraid he might throw himself off. I know what it’s like to be alone. I know what it’s like to be alone and be thinking horrible thoughts. I know what it’s like to say you want to be alone, where in actual fact every cell in your body is screaming, stay and talk to me. That’s what I did. Or at least tried to. It didn’t work as well as I thought it should.

Then Pre-IP Symposium. Mr. Alistair Chew made this really long (and angsty) keynote address about the past 2000 years of human history. And he mentioned Isaac Newton’s Law of Finance: If you make big money, people will come to you. And that’s the basis of the entire world today. Which is totally stupid. My dad talked to me about globalization today, and all its problems come from Newton’s Law of Finance. It’s money that’s making the world go round. It’s money that’s now a basic necessity: without money you can never survive. You could be roaming an Indian marketplace totally starving and totally bankrupt, but then pull out a plastic card and Hey Presto! Ten thousand birds. Then there’s this quote from the Fragile Forest in the Singapore Zoo: “After every tree has been cut down, after every river has been drained, after every animal has been killed, then you will realize that money cannot be eaten.”

Then there’s the symposium itself. I don’t like politics. Let those who like it go do it. I don’t even know why people bother to read, let alone write, 127-page reports. And the teacher-in-charge is encouraging us to “write a resolution which appeals to our country’s interests”. Right. How are we supposed to solve world problems if each and every single diplomat is trying to twist the resolution so it benefits himself and his country? How are we supposed to help people if everyone is being selfish?

Saturday: Geography field trip. It seems like a very rush job. They didn’t really tell us much in advance, and they didn’t really give us much time there to measure stuff. Oh well. Mrs. Sim is really a very good teacher. And Mr. Davies has an Elmer Fudd accent.

On the bus home via Nanyang Funfair. I couldn’t go because I had tuition. I would have love to have gone. Really. But when you think of everyone, rightly, parent’s interests should come before self. And that’s just what I did. Sorry I couldn’t come. Hern Hern says she’s going to Photoshop me into the picture; I find that really amusing.

And tuition itself. Chinese oral is two weeks away. I am really nervous and my vocabulary is nothing to write home about. I don’t want to fail Chinese. I don’t want to get left behind doing normal Chinese while everyone else stays with Higher Chinese. I don’t.

Sunday: Zhang invited me to go watch Superman Returns later today. Another “I would really love to go” event. Unfortunately, my mom gave an instant, outright no. Exams are coming (in four months time) and I have to study (even though they haven’t finished teaching yet). So Superman will have to return without me.

Week: I’ve been rather depressed and melancholic the past seven days. If you had the weight of a million thoughts crashing down upon your head, you would too. I won’t be talking to you much anymore. It’s related to the very first thing I mentioned in this post. I can’t account for my subconscious anymore. I don’t want to manipulate your emotions again.

“Oh… so this is no cowardly flight. You’re being noble.” -Phenias Nigellus, Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix

No, I’m not being noble. This is as cowardly as it can get. Telling you, through a blog, I don’t get to see your reaction, your response I would get if I told you face to face. I’m a coward, I’m afraid, I’m dangerous; leave me alone or I might hurt you.

I’m sorry.