600 posts, sweet dreams and a heart of stone
Every year, on my birthday, something always makes me cry.
Will it be the same this year?
Every year, on my birthday, something always makes me cry.
Will it be the same this year?
Monday, June 28, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Saturday, 26th June 2010
I tried, I really tried.
I spent 1.5 hours trying to study tonight, to no avail. I showered, got dressed warmly, and headed to the Mcdonald's across the road for some night-time studying. People were watching the World Cup on an LCD TV outside. I ordered a hot Milo and sat at a table inside.
I plugged in my earphones and started on my work.
Every once in a while, the whole crowd outside burst into cheers and screams. I felt strangely fatigued, my eyelids were threatening to close. I came home, disappointed in myself, but convinced that I need more rest.
It has, after all, been a truly emotionally exhausting week.
Must be the burn out.
I spent 1.5 hours trying to study tonight, to no avail. I showered, got dressed warmly, and headed to the Mcdonald's across the road for some night-time studying. People were watching the World Cup on an LCD TV outside. I ordered a hot Milo and sat at a table inside.
I plugged in my earphones and started on my work.
Every once in a while, the whole crowd outside burst into cheers and screams. I felt strangely fatigued, my eyelids were threatening to close. I came home, disappointed in myself, but convinced that I need more rest.
It has, after all, been a truly emotionally exhausting week.
Must be the burn out.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Friday, 25th June 2010
I wanted to shrink down to ant-size and lose myself in childhood memories.
When I was in Primary school, I had this little brown velvet pouch where I kept my money and cards. Since we were always required to watch videos in a dark, cold room, I found comfort in treating it like a pet, keeping it warm in the skirt of my pinafore, stroking the velvet occasionally.
Maybe I missed my late hamster, Hammie. After she died, I felt so lonely.
All I had was my velvet pouch.
I need to lose myself in some Oscar Wilde now.
When I was in Primary school, I had this little brown velvet pouch where I kept my money and cards. Since we were always required to watch videos in a dark, cold room, I found comfort in treating it like a pet, keeping it warm in the skirt of my pinafore, stroking the velvet occasionally.
Maybe I missed my late hamster, Hammie. After she died, I felt so lonely.
All I had was my velvet pouch.
I need to lose myself in some Oscar Wilde now.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Thursday, 24th June 2010
Now is certainly the best time to be a snail.
As quoted from an earlier post,
"Every inch goes so slowly, to travel around the world would take eternity, and yet, it perseveres, unrelentingly, never losing sight of its destination. No matter how rough the road, no matter how many thorns to manoeuvre through, it never gets frustrated, it never gives up. It just keeps going, going, ever so slowly, always with a goal, travelling further and further each time. Patience, perseverance, courage."
I failed a couple of term tests. Chemistrys and Maths. I guess I could easily blame it on the fact that I never took Chemistry or A-Maths before Poly, but I can't keep doing that. There's a way to catch up with the rest of the class, and I'm jolly well going to do it or die trying.
What kind of cardiovascular surgeon fails Chemistry and Maths?
No, no way. I can do this.
Everyone is being so darn sympathetic towards me because they know I did badly. Darn it, I will not take this! I shall give you all no reason to pity or look down on me, no.
The only reason I'm not stewing in my juices of depression is because we started the topic on the cardiovascular system today. It's lovely, lovely, lovely.
Now all I need is more time.
As quoted from an earlier post,
"Every inch goes so slowly, to travel around the world would take eternity, and yet, it perseveres, unrelentingly, never losing sight of its destination. No matter how rough the road, no matter how many thorns to manoeuvre through, it never gets frustrated, it never gives up. It just keeps going, going, ever so slowly, always with a goal, travelling further and further each time. Patience, perseverance, courage."
I failed a couple of term tests. Chemistrys and Maths. I guess I could easily blame it on the fact that I never took Chemistry or A-Maths before Poly, but I can't keep doing that. There's a way to catch up with the rest of the class, and I'm jolly well going to do it or die trying.
What kind of cardiovascular surgeon fails Chemistry and Maths?
No, no way. I can do this.
Everyone is being so darn sympathetic towards me because they know I did badly. Darn it, I will not take this! I shall give you all no reason to pity or look down on me, no.
The only reason I'm not stewing in my juices of depression is because we started the topic on the cardiovascular system today. It's lovely, lovely, lovely.
Now all I need is more time.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Monday, 21st June 2010
I find myself changing to suit other people's wants and needs.
I find myself ignoring my own to keep everyone around me happy.
Whose motto goes "Life's just too short to keep trying to live up to other people's expectations"?
I'm such a damn hypocrite.
Got called up by my careperson today for my terrible termtest results. I was expecting it, but it still made me feel awful. Course manager wants to see me, not to scold me, not to do anything bad, but to encourage me or something. That didn't make me feel less awful, though, it pretty much ruined my year.
I find myself ignoring my own to keep everyone around me happy.
Whose motto goes "Life's just too short to keep trying to live up to other people's expectations"?
I'm such a damn hypocrite.
Got called up by my careperson today for my terrible termtest results. I was expecting it, but it still made me feel awful. Course manager wants to see me, not to scold me, not to do anything bad, but to encourage me or something. That didn't make me feel less awful, though, it pretty much ruined my year.
The next part is even more awesome. Since we have to see the course manager within booked slots, we were offered 5th or 6th July, after school. How fantastic is that?
I feel horrible, horrible, horrible.
I feel horrible, horrible, horrible.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Sunday, 20th June 2010
I'm so lucky. Why can't I be thankful for all the things I have?
Why am I complacent? Why do I take for granted all the basic necessities in life? I have clean water, sufficient food, clothes, bags, stationery. I can go to a school that has clean classrooms, nice desks and air-conditioning, and yet, I dread it.
Why?
Why can't I want to go to school, why can't I have the urge to spend hours studying and learning? Why can't I be thankful to have textbooks and shoes?
Why am I so damn ungrateful?
Why am I complacent? Why do I take for granted all the basic necessities in life? I have clean water, sufficient food, clothes, bags, stationery. I can go to a school that has clean classrooms, nice desks and air-conditioning, and yet, I dread it.
Why?
Why can't I want to go to school, why can't I have the urge to spend hours studying and learning? Why can't I be thankful to have textbooks and shoes?
Why am I so damn ungrateful?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Thursday, June 17th 2010
The stars lean down to kiss you
And I lie awake and miss you
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere
'Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly
But I'll miss your arms around me
I'd send a postcard to you, dear
'Cause I wish you were here
I'll watch the night turn light-blue
But it's not the same without you
Because it takes two to whisper quietly
The silence isn't so bad
'Til I look at my hands and feel sad
'Cause the spaces between my fingers
Are right where yours fit perfectly
I'll find repose in new ways
Though I haven't slept in two days
'Cause cold nostalgia
Chills me to the bone
But drenched in vanilla twilight
I'll sit on the front porch all night
Waist-deep in thought because
When I think of you I don't feel so alone
I don't feel so alone
And I lie awake and miss you
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere
'Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly
But I'll miss your arms around me
I'd send a postcard to you, dear
'Cause I wish you were here
I'll watch the night turn light-blue
But it's not the same without you
Because it takes two to whisper quietly
The silence isn't so bad
'Til I look at my hands and feel sad
'Cause the spaces between my fingers
Are right where yours fit perfectly
I'll find repose in new ways
Though I haven't slept in two days
'Cause cold nostalgia
Chills me to the bone
But drenched in vanilla twilight
I'll sit on the front porch all night
Waist-deep in thought because
When I think of you I don't feel so alone
I don't feel so alone
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Wednesday, June 16th 2010
You know, snails are to be admired.
Every inch goes so slowly, to travel around the world would take eternity, and yet, it perseveres, unrelentingly, never losing sight of its destination. No matter how rough the road, no matter how many thorns to manoeuvre through, it never gets frustrated, it never gives up. It just keeps going, going, going, ever so slowly, always with a goal, travelling further and further each time.
Patience, perseverance, courage, the acceptance of almost-certainty that someone will come along and step on you. Ugly, but able to see beauty in the darkest, murkiest corners of the Earth.
Could I be a snail?
Every inch goes so slowly, to travel around the world would take eternity, and yet, it perseveres, unrelentingly, never losing sight of its destination. No matter how rough the road, no matter how many thorns to manoeuvre through, it never gets frustrated, it never gives up. It just keeps going, going, going, ever so slowly, always with a goal, travelling further and further each time.
Patience, perseverance, courage, the acceptance of almost-certainty that someone will come along and step on you. Ugly, but able to see beauty in the darkest, murkiest corners of the Earth.
Could I be a snail?
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tuesday, 15th June 2010 (2)
We apologise too much, too often for things we didn't do.
Society is coiling its youth too tightly round its little finger. It refuses to expose them to the world, it finds comfort in keeping them under a quilt of rules and regulations. Though illogical and puerilely pusillanimous, they are laid down for fear that the younger generations will grow up to be different.
Different.
Why do people fear being different? Why should people fear being different? Unique? Why must one conform to society's standards, rules and regulations? They are stupefyingly ridiculous. And yet, we give in, all too easily, to their wants that override our needs. Will I let them change me?
Society is coiling its youth too tightly round its little finger. It refuses to expose them to the world, it finds comfort in keeping them under a quilt of rules and regulations. Though illogical and puerilely pusillanimous, they are laid down for fear that the younger generations will grow up to be different.
Different.
Why do people fear being different? Why should people fear being different? Unique? Why must one conform to society's standards, rules and regulations? They are stupefyingly ridiculous. And yet, we give in, all too easily, to their wants that override our needs. Will I let them change me?
Am I strong enough to stay myself?
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Tuesday, 15th June 2010
This day is going slowly
This day is going fast
All the time in the world and yet
It's not meant to last
How do I tame these restless feet
And crush the icebergs of my dreams
Swamped with endless piles of work
Nothing is as easy as it seems
This day is going fast
All the time in the world and yet
It's not meant to last
How do I tame these restless feet
And crush the icebergs of my dreams
Swamped with endless piles of work
Nothing is as easy as it seems
Monday, 14th June 2010
Fatigued, overworked. It's so tempting to give up.
It somehow became my job to delegate the work for my Biomolecules assignment. It wasn't bad at all, actually, I kind of enjoyed it. Somebody had to do it, and I made sure my e-mail to the group didn't sound too glum.
I am, however, glum as can be. I will be turning 19 in about 20 days, and I am not the least bit prepared. I'm dreading the release of my exam results, for I am pretty sure I'll do quite badly. Very badly indeed. The nightmare of school will then start all over again in a dreadful routine, a never-ending workload and new things to learn. It's at times like these I wish I'd go crazy, for people who are mad are oblivious to the fact. Ignorance is bliss.
I shall spend tomorrow catching up on sleep, doing my assignment, learning the choir piece and painting a shirt. Have these strange urges to do large canvas paintings, draw anatomy and bake.
Bought my first two pairs of skinny jeans today. Am I swakoo? :D
It somehow became my job to delegate the work for my Biomolecules assignment. It wasn't bad at all, actually, I kind of enjoyed it. Somebody had to do it, and I made sure my e-mail to the group didn't sound too glum.
I am, however, glum as can be. I will be turning 19 in about 20 days, and I am not the least bit prepared. I'm dreading the release of my exam results, for I am pretty sure I'll do quite badly. Very badly indeed. The nightmare of school will then start all over again in a dreadful routine, a never-ending workload and new things to learn. It's at times like these I wish I'd go crazy, for people who are mad are oblivious to the fact. Ignorance is bliss.
I shall spend tomorrow catching up on sleep, doing my assignment, learning the choir piece and painting a shirt. Have these strange urges to do large canvas paintings, draw anatomy and bake.
Bought my first two pairs of skinny jeans today. Am I swakoo? :D
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sunday, 13th June 2010
Assignments over the holidays?
My course can't even give us one week free after the exams to wind down before bombarding us with assignments and group work. What's a measly two-week break from a super hectic lifestyle at school?
I awoke at 4.30pm today, energised but worried. I found out the night before that there were assignments to be done during the holidays, and I spent two hours today frantically looking for group members to form a group with, only to be denied because the group has reached its capacity limit. I have found another group member, but we have yet to find two more.
What I would give to run away right now.
And, Honey, I miss you.
The last time I heard from you was about you cooking ginseng chicken, this morning. I can't help but wonder what you're doing now, and yet, refuse to interrupt whatever you're doing by calling. I miss your voice, I miss your lovely smile. I miss your warm hugs, your soft kisses on my cheek. Tomorrow seems such a long way to go, till then I shall have to occupy my time with work that must be done.
My Love, my Love, mere hours are days without you.
My course can't even give us one week free after the exams to wind down before bombarding us with assignments and group work. What's a measly two-week break from a super hectic lifestyle at school?
I awoke at 4.30pm today, energised but worried. I found out the night before that there were assignments to be done during the holidays, and I spent two hours today frantically looking for group members to form a group with, only to be denied because the group has reached its capacity limit. I have found another group member, but we have yet to find two more.
What I would give to run away right now.
And, Honey, I miss you.
The last time I heard from you was about you cooking ginseng chicken, this morning. I can't help but wonder what you're doing now, and yet, refuse to interrupt whatever you're doing by calling. I miss your voice, I miss your lovely smile. I miss your warm hugs, your soft kisses on my cheek. Tomorrow seems such a long way to go, till then I shall have to occupy my time with work that must be done.
My Love, my Love, mere hours are days without you.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Wednesday, 9th June 2010
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get to sing at a place like this.
Daydreams are filled with large water-bodies, opera houses, cold climates, ancient ruins, talking artwork, awesome gadgets, flying, antique typewriters, ciacconas, beautiful cottages, and all the live and dead people I've ever wanted to meet.
Let's take a look at the list:
-Oscar Wilde
-Elvis Presley
-Bob Marley
-Charlie Chaplin
-Mozart
-Beethoven
-Johnny Eck
-Joseph Merrick
-Philippe Jaroussky
-Franco
-Rabbit
-(etc)
I haven't been spending much time at home due to the hectic holiday schedule laid out for me. Over the past few days, I've had choir practices, a stayover and performance. It was kind of a stupid idea, seeing as we rarely sleep at these stayovers, let alone sleep well. Performance was the next day, but I managed to get by on sugar and adrenaline alone. Before and after the performance at some hotel, my mind totally died. I found myself staring dreamily into the vague distance. Mrs Headache didn't let me off, either. She and Mr Fatigue have been rather harsh on me. This must be why I feel like I'm about to collapse into a permanent sleep.
Or, at least, for 15 hours.
I do, however, find this spending so much time away from home a little comforting. It's a relief not to have to face undesirable characters and attitudes, unsightly scowls and glares, unkind words and deeds, around the house. Though it's not total freedom, it's better than being forced to stay at home all day, everyday with these people.
Should I ask for a phone for my birthday, or give it up?
Having a phone suddenly becomes a bad idea when you have to be in constant contact with people like my parents. Instead of widening our limits, technology has set us more. Yet, we cling helplessly to technology, unwilling to let go of something dragging us underwater.
What a curse.
Daydreams are filled with large water-bodies, opera houses, cold climates, ancient ruins, talking artwork, awesome gadgets, flying, antique typewriters, ciacconas, beautiful cottages, and all the live and dead people I've ever wanted to meet.
Let's take a look at the list:
-Oscar Wilde
-Elvis Presley
-Bob Marley
-Charlie Chaplin
-Mozart
-Beethoven
-Johnny Eck
-Joseph Merrick
-Philippe Jaroussky
-Franco
-Rabbit
-(etc)
I haven't been spending much time at home due to the hectic holiday schedule laid out for me. Over the past few days, I've had choir practices, a stayover and performance. It was kind of a stupid idea, seeing as we rarely sleep at these stayovers, let alone sleep well. Performance was the next day, but I managed to get by on sugar and adrenaline alone. Before and after the performance at some hotel, my mind totally died. I found myself staring dreamily into the vague distance. Mrs Headache didn't let me off, either. She and Mr Fatigue have been rather harsh on me. This must be why I feel like I'm about to collapse into a permanent sleep.
Or, at least, for 15 hours.
I do, however, find this spending so much time away from home a little comforting. It's a relief not to have to face undesirable characters and attitudes, unsightly scowls and glares, unkind words and deeds, around the house. Though it's not total freedom, it's better than being forced to stay at home all day, everyday with these people.
Should I ask for a phone for my birthday, or give it up?
Having a phone suddenly becomes a bad idea when you have to be in constant contact with people like my parents. Instead of widening our limits, technology has set us more. Yet, we cling helplessly to technology, unwilling to let go of something dragging us underwater.
What a curse.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Saturday, 5th June 2010
I feel strangely self-conscious carrying this DVD case around.
I finally got my hands on "Farinelli" again, V was kind enough to lend it to me. She also lent me Mika's "The boy who knew too much" and "Hoodwinked".
Farinelli, or so he called himself, was the most famous castrato who ever lived. Women literally fainted when they heard him sing. What is it about men with high singing voices that women love so much?
Personally, I find it really... desirable. Sexy. Exciting. How else can I describe the feeling? I just like it. It's human and god-like at the same time. They were divas, charismatic, charming, vocally flexible, full of stamina, and had the ability to sing for more than a minute without breathing.
In this present day and age, castrati have more-or-less become extinct. I think they made it illegal or something, so now we have our male-sopranos or our countertenors.
It's a bit sad, though. I really would love to have had the chance to watch a castrato in concert. Maybe someday soon someone would invent a time machine, and it would take me back at least 300 years.
I finally got my hands on "Farinelli" again, V was kind enough to lend it to me. She also lent me Mika's "The boy who knew too much" and "Hoodwinked".
Farinelli, or so he called himself, was the most famous castrato who ever lived. Women literally fainted when they heard him sing. What is it about men with high singing voices that women love so much?
Personally, I find it really... desirable. Sexy. Exciting. How else can I describe the feeling? I just like it. It's human and god-like at the same time. They were divas, charismatic, charming, vocally flexible, full of stamina, and had the ability to sing for more than a minute without breathing.
In this present day and age, castrati have more-or-less become extinct. I think they made it illegal or something, so now we have our male-sopranos or our countertenors.
It's a bit sad, though. I really would love to have had the chance to watch a castrato in concert. Maybe someday soon someone would invent a time machine, and it would take me back at least 300 years.
Friday, 4th June 2010
Could I have saved him?
Maybe, if I had fed him more honey water, maybe, if I had been there more to encourage him, to give him the will and strength to live on. Maybe I could have spotted the signs earlier and prevented it.
The vet said it was Wry Neck, and that he had accidentally hit the stem of his brain on something hard. Poor Rabbit had a floppy neck, a weepy eye, and kept thrashing and rolling around so violently that I feared for him. Frustrated as he was, he still had the heart to kiss me.
I followed the vet's instructions, I awoke early every morning to feed him his antibiotics through a syringe, I dripped honey water into his little mouth drop by drop, I cuddled and stroked him and kissed his cheek every day. My heart ached, but there was nothing else I could do.
It gave me a fear of the Nervous System, I found myself afraid of the brain and other components. Tonight, on the bus, it suddenly occurred to me that I never knew much about Wry Neck, so I looked it up on the internet.
Wry Neck is an immune disorder caused by protozoa (microsporidia) that resides primarily in the kidneys in many (if not all) rabbits. When the immune system is compromised, the parasite replicates (by injecting spores through a polar filament into the host cells) and begins to migrate from the kidney through the bloodstream to the brain where it develops cysts.
My dearest Rabbit, are you still here?
Maybe, if I had fed him more honey water, maybe, if I had been there more to encourage him, to give him the will and strength to live on. Maybe I could have spotted the signs earlier and prevented it.
The vet said it was Wry Neck, and that he had accidentally hit the stem of his brain on something hard. Poor Rabbit had a floppy neck, a weepy eye, and kept thrashing and rolling around so violently that I feared for him. Frustrated as he was, he still had the heart to kiss me.
I followed the vet's instructions, I awoke early every morning to feed him his antibiotics through a syringe, I dripped honey water into his little mouth drop by drop, I cuddled and stroked him and kissed his cheek every day. My heart ached, but there was nothing else I could do.
It gave me a fear of the Nervous System, I found myself afraid of the brain and other components. Tonight, on the bus, it suddenly occurred to me that I never knew much about Wry Neck, so I looked it up on the internet.
Wry Neck is an immune disorder caused by protozoa (microsporidia) that resides primarily in the kidneys in many (if not all) rabbits. When the immune system is compromised, the parasite replicates (by injecting spores through a polar filament into the host cells) and begins to migrate from the kidney through the bloodstream to the brain where it develops cysts.
My dearest Rabbit, are you still here?
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Thursday, 3rd June 2010
I want to escape this place; I want to run, run, run away.
Where is my comfort, where is my home? It's certainly not where I am, for I do not feel the least bit comforted. Anxiety has gotten past my security guards, Disappointment following closely behind. My guards are desperately trying to stay alive, against the cruel adamantine swords and spears of the enemy.
Mutton bit Mom early this morning. She was making scissor-snipping movements at the dog, and he just growled, barked and bit her hand. She screamed. I was, however, in the shower, and way too sleepy to be bothered to rush there and exclaim. My eyes were half-closed, my mouth was filled with foamy toothpaste, my hair in a mess.
Mutton doesn't like Mom somehow. I guess he feels constantly threatened by her. I don't blame him. She just kept screaming at the dog, about how she was going to send him back to his previous owner. She kept shoving her dog-bite wound (a medium-sized purple bite mark) in Dad's and my face and exclaiming about it in her super-high-pitched, super-irritating voice.
I feel so out of place sometimes but, then again, nobody ever said family members had to have the same attitudes, views, thoughts, acts, words, manners. It all just seems so insignificantly minuscule, unworthy of time and attention.
I want to get away from here, away from these people, these subjects, these harsh words. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back at Venice. Every time I day-dream, I'm flying. And then, reality grabs me back, threatening to engulf me in a wave of nails.
Venice. How many times have I stood at the water's edge? How many times have I gone back in my dreams? How many times have I closed my eyes and felt the crisp, cool morning air on my skin? How many times?
A one-way ticket to Europe.
Where is my comfort, where is my home? It's certainly not where I am, for I do not feel the least bit comforted. Anxiety has gotten past my security guards, Disappointment following closely behind. My guards are desperately trying to stay alive, against the cruel adamantine swords and spears of the enemy.
Mutton bit Mom early this morning. She was making scissor-snipping movements at the dog, and he just growled, barked and bit her hand. She screamed. I was, however, in the shower, and way too sleepy to be bothered to rush there and exclaim. My eyes were half-closed, my mouth was filled with foamy toothpaste, my hair in a mess.
Mutton doesn't like Mom somehow. I guess he feels constantly threatened by her. I don't blame him. She just kept screaming at the dog, about how she was going to send him back to his previous owner. She kept shoving her dog-bite wound (a medium-sized purple bite mark) in Dad's and my face and exclaiming about it in her super-high-pitched, super-irritating voice.
I feel so out of place sometimes but, then again, nobody ever said family members had to have the same attitudes, views, thoughts, acts, words, manners. It all just seems so insignificantly minuscule, unworthy of time and attention.
I want to get away from here, away from these people, these subjects, these harsh words. Every time I close my eyes, I'm back at Venice. Every time I day-dream, I'm flying. And then, reality grabs me back, threatening to engulf me in a wave of nails.
Venice. How many times have I stood at the water's edge? How many times have I gone back in my dreams? How many times have I closed my eyes and felt the crisp, cool morning air on my skin? How many times?
A one-way ticket to Europe.
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Wednesday, June 2nd 2010
I don't hate Maths,I don't hate Maths.
I will master it, I will master it.
Goodbye, 4.0 GPA.
After downing a medium carton of "Fresh Milk", I sat down with my girl friends at Itas, where Amirah pulled out a book titled "Why men lie and women cry". One of those dating books on the mysteries of men and women, you know?
So. They were taking sex appeal tests, it made me laugh so my spirits were lifted immensely. They stopped stewing in their own pathetic juices and rose towards the sky, in the hope of flying over yellow sunflower-fields and windmills 'neath an azure blanket.
All the worries of log functions and differentiation are now yesterday's. It's time to move on, Xiulin, look to the future, don't dwell. Don't dwell.
------
Kathleen-
I'm sorry we didn't attend the Adidas Sundown even though it cost us $45 to register. You did say you were ill, and when I insisted on going at first, I was being selfish. The oil spill happened just the day before, and it would have been risky for both you and I to run under those conditions. I shouldn't have convinced you that the oil spill could be ignored, you know, breathing in harmful fumes is bad enough normally, what more while exercising?
I'm really sorry we couldn't do that run together, I had been looking forward to it for months. I was excited about it. I wanted to run it with you.
And I'm sorry I pulled out. I hope you understand.
I hope you come 'round.
Xiulin
I will master it, I will master it.
Goodbye, 4.0 GPA.
After downing a medium carton of "Fresh Milk", I sat down with my girl friends at Itas, where Amirah pulled out a book titled "Why men lie and women cry". One of those dating books on the mysteries of men and women, you know?
So. They were taking sex appeal tests, it made me laugh so my spirits were lifted immensely. They stopped stewing in their own pathetic juices and rose towards the sky, in the hope of flying over yellow sunflower-fields and windmills 'neath an azure blanket.
All the worries of log functions and differentiation are now yesterday's. It's time to move on, Xiulin, look to the future, don't dwell. Don't dwell.
------
Kathleen-
I'm sorry we didn't attend the Adidas Sundown even though it cost us $45 to register. You did say you were ill, and when I insisted on going at first, I was being selfish. The oil spill happened just the day before, and it would have been risky for both you and I to run under those conditions. I shouldn't have convinced you that the oil spill could be ignored, you know, breathing in harmful fumes is bad enough normally, what more while exercising?
I'm really sorry we couldn't do that run together, I had been looking forward to it for months. I was excited about it. I wanted to run it with you.
And I'm sorry I pulled out. I hope you understand.
I hope you come 'round.
Xiulin
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Tuesday, 1st June 2010
I feel my perfect GPA slipping away with every test I take.
It's possible, so why can't I get it? Why, why, why?
My PIPC (Inorganic & Physical Chem), Oh My God, was absolutely horrifying. Abominable. A blue whale at the bottom of the ocean, poisoned, stabbed, and doomed to die a painful death.
Swearing was seemingly incessant after the paper.
I would have jumped into an ocean myself had it not been for my CSAS (Communication Skills for Applied Science) paper, which, I must admit, was not bad at all. It's like English, only the more annoyingly "proper" version, in relation to social behavior of human beings. I used to tell myself I don't like English, it just so happens that it's a subject I can do all right in. Now, I like English and can't stand CSAS. We all feel it's such a waste of time and effort. What's worse, it's graded!
Even pop quizzes are graded as part of the GPA! I think this is incredibly unreasonable. If it's going to be graded, at least tell us about the quiz first.
This morning, I had my Human Anatomy & Physiology test. It was.... so-so, I guess. I mean, I couldn't even finish revising everything, let alone get it down perfectly. I think I didn't do too badly, but let's hope they'll be extra lenient and give "pity" marks. I really want good grades. It's not as if I don't try my best to work hard, it's just insufficient time, you know?
Even back when I was still doing my 'O's, I was never this stressed. Everyday is such a dreadful repetition of the last, with me getting less sleep as the nights go by. I feel so tired and listless, and yet there's still a paper the next day, and the next, and the next...
Tomorrow, I will take my Maths & Stats paper. You know, I used to hate Maths. I failed it for 10 years before I finally realised that I was able to do it. It did, however, take a hell lot of effort, but I had time then. Now, I don't, I barely have time for anything, but I try to squeeze them all in. I guess I kind of enjoy doing so many things, but sometimes it gets a lil too much. All I want to do is crumple up and sob till the trees whisper.
Let no man give up, let no tear be shed; He shall be strong and continue down the path of self-fulfilment. Or self-destruction.
Oh, honey?
Happy 2nd, we now proceed to begin our 3rd together! We will give and take, teach and learn, speak and listen. Surely, there will be times of frustration and melancholic feelings , each one is a challenge set for us. Love and honesty are on our side, should we let them, they would surely fight for us.
“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.” -Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
It's possible, so why can't I get it? Why, why, why?
My PIPC (Inorganic & Physical Chem), Oh My God, was absolutely horrifying. Abominable. A blue whale at the bottom of the ocean, poisoned, stabbed, and doomed to die a painful death.
Swearing was seemingly incessant after the paper.
I would have jumped into an ocean myself had it not been for my CSAS (Communication Skills for Applied Science) paper, which, I must admit, was not bad at all. It's like English, only the more annoyingly "proper" version, in relation to social behavior of human beings. I used to tell myself I don't like English, it just so happens that it's a subject I can do all right in. Now, I like English and can't stand CSAS. We all feel it's such a waste of time and effort. What's worse, it's graded!
Even pop quizzes are graded as part of the GPA! I think this is incredibly unreasonable. If it's going to be graded, at least tell us about the quiz first.
This morning, I had my Human Anatomy & Physiology test. It was.... so-so, I guess. I mean, I couldn't even finish revising everything, let alone get it down perfectly. I think I didn't do too badly, but let's hope they'll be extra lenient and give "pity" marks. I really want good grades. It's not as if I don't try my best to work hard, it's just insufficient time, you know?
Even back when I was still doing my 'O's, I was never this stressed. Everyday is such a dreadful repetition of the last, with me getting less sleep as the nights go by. I feel so tired and listless, and yet there's still a paper the next day, and the next, and the next...
Tomorrow, I will take my Maths & Stats paper. You know, I used to hate Maths. I failed it for 10 years before I finally realised that I was able to do it. It did, however, take a hell lot of effort, but I had time then. Now, I don't, I barely have time for anything, but I try to squeeze them all in. I guess I kind of enjoy doing so many things, but sometimes it gets a lil too much. All I want to do is crumple up and sob till the trees whisper.
Let no man give up, let no tear be shed; He shall be strong and continue down the path of self-fulfilment. Or self-destruction.
Oh, honey?
Happy 2nd, we now proceed to begin our 3rd together! We will give and take, teach and learn, speak and listen. Surely, there will be times of frustration and melancholic feelings , each one is a challenge set for us. Love and honesty are on our side, should we let them, they would surely fight for us.
“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.” -Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)
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