Moved

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See my blood so now you know I really am hurting

So it was like, the part few days had sort of disappeared from my life. Gone, vapourised, annihilated. It's so depressing I choose to forget.

It was school. It was knowing that everyone around me was feeling crap. Was it the pathetic world that made everyone down?

Or maybe it's just me, polluting the existence of my friends with my toxic pessimism. It might be my fault.

So what happened exactly? I recall snippets. Saved like being in school, trying to perk myself up by acting like a perky, jovial version of me. It sort of works. People are nicer to me when they think I won't bite. Hell, maybe they even want a piece of the humour that they think i have.

Actually it's kinda sad, for if I did actually act the way I feel, I might at least got some reaffirmation that the demons in my head do actually exist, that a little understanding or even help would be great.

I keep on trying to be the guy who's always there for the friends I have. But sometimes it can be bloody hard. I'm their listener. I try to be happy for them. But where do i find my very own listener?

Screw it. I don't deserve any love or concern. I'm Superman. I'm EXPECTED to give and not take.

==

There have been snippets of happiness.



Being out with friends who matter. Having heart to heart talks. Trying to come to terms with old unresolved issues. Walking a hell while yakking it out. While watching the cars crest the hill in the silent night.

Realising that I'm a cynical bastard yet again. Realising that everything's sorta pointless if you think into it. I don't even know who I am any more. I act so hard to be happy and pleasant and to fall within the limits of normal for human behaviour. Is that my persona or is that already part of me? No one would ever believe I'm one of those who are about to tip themselves off the cliff at any time.

Just making other people feel better. But deep down, when they pour out their insides to me, I wish I could have someone listen, understand, get me through my crappy life.

I'm not worth it though.

==



There's shallow consumerism that I feel absolutely guilty for. Caving in and buying a really expensive bag I've been coveting for years.



Consumerism is shallow pleasure.

==



Even reading the final instalment of Harry Potter on release date doesn't cheer me up.



==



Pain and blood, they make me feel real again. At least people are more concerned about a superficial bloody toe than a dying soul deep in me.

I Need Some Sleep

Sleepy. Tired. Should I like, start a new blog? This one's getting nowhere.

Life Becoming a Landslide

And it's becoming more and more clear.

Life, ya know. It isn't really my kinda thing. I mean look at it. We all want to achieve and do well and be happy. That's like 100% of the world.

And achievement is defined by the normal curve. When you define success, you define failure too. Not everyone succeeds.

And what's the point of life if one grows old and dies as a lowly worker whose ambitions to be a great author had never happened. There he is, taking the early bus to work just like he'd been doing for the past 4 decades, so jaded at the world he doesn't give a damn if anyone stares at him for digging his nose with his pinkie.

I don't have what it takes to be successful. I don't have what it takes to be happy. I'd fail anyway. Why do I even bother?

Last night I had a compelling urge to end it all. But it isn't good enough. I'd be doing my education and intelligence an injustice if I don't even know how to die cleanly and successfully. Tactics, comrades, tactics!

Moonshine

There's not enough alcohol to keep me sedated and nice like a good boy in the fridge so I'm half-fucked drunk so that I'm all crazy and all but I can't freaking sleep which is the main purpose I want to get myself all drunk.

I'm not able to sleep knowing that everything is just so fucked up, that it's all my fault and I'm fucked up and crazy and I don't even know to believe what others say or what I believe or what I feel or what I think or when the alcohol speaks to me. Is it my fault or am I just lousy in which case it's also my fault or is it just the world sucks and I'm the one who always loses out in the end? But people don't just lose out. They gotta fail to lose our and in that case it's my fault. No matter how I look at it it's my fault.

I deserve to be macerated, left to rot, ripped apart in the cold.

I fucking hate life and for the first time in a long while I truly wish I were truly dead. True, the idea of death sends my heart racing on some nights lying in bed mulling about things, or in the shower staring at the burnished metal pipes.

Fuck life.

There's too much pain in my head, too protracted a civil war in my mind. SOMEONE FUCKING KILL ME BEFORE I LOSE MY MIND AND GO FOR THE KILL.

Killing in the name of

I'm the bulletproof monk who survived a whole day of especially harrowing school today! Was grilled, charbroilled, etc during one of the tutorials, though I've experienced worse. I've been to hell and back so there's not much that I can't survive. Those who know about my traumatic surgical end of posting test will understand.

Yay.

Somehow feeling mechanical today. Board the bus. Right hand on door rail, left hand tapping my ez-Link card, monkeybar my way into the bus, balance myself, with the exact precision needed to just keep myself balanced during the bumpy bus ride.

Get off the bus, get through the day, make small talk. Put on a happy front. And don't feel happy or sad or anything because it's just a routine. A series of many dance steps. Heave ho.

Yay.

Went for a good jog in Bishan Park and well, despite just barely recovering from a shitty bout of sinusitis, I could zip through the western half without being overtaken once. And overtaking a number of people who were dressed way sportier than me, in all their synthetic fabric singlets and all.

The only thing sporty about my attire are my high end shoes, but as you already know, shoes DO matter - they're the things that make physical contact with the ground, and determines how stably you can go. Yay.

There's this thing about me that fantasises about being an underdog - looking like the one who would never make it, the one with nothing to his name - then winning it all. Sorta like, a fetish for Q-cars such as those MPS Mazdas where they put in a humongous engine in slightly-modified bodies of their normal saloon cars, for insane power-to-weight ratio. With barely a hint of sports styling.

Well, I smoked them all wearing a cheapo pair of shorts and an old oversized cotton tee. Granted, loose, floppy clothing increase my coefficient of drag, and make me feel like I'm drenched in my own stifling sweat, but that's fine print.

I win.

Yay.

Oh, I got banned in an online forum in support of my fallen comrades (no, they're more than just online friends) who had been unreasonably banned too.

Yay.

Do the Hippogriff

Yay Cong's back from the US and A. And he have a Cultural Learnings to share with everyone. But damn, everyone else we know are busy with one thing or another, so it's just the 2 of us.

Scrambled to look for tickets for Hairy Potty and the Order of the Phoenix. Cathay's totally booked when I checked at 9.30am, as in, 2nd row from the front. But yay, Cong managed to get some pretty good tix at Eng Wah Suntec. (It's sorta hidden from the rest of town so there's always seats there - in fact, I've watched Spidey 3 there on opening day and that's without booking.)



So how was it? Cong says it's pretty damned good, because it's confident enough to stand on its own, without having to support itself word for word from the novel. I found it quite a bit weaker than Goblet of Fire - the magic simply isn't as magical any more. And while admittedly the book is the crappiest so far, it's rather sacrilegious to rework the story so much and pare off the subplots and simplify the main plot into one swift vignette. And well, Luna Lovegood is supposed to be way more lovable than this.

Goblet of Fire was much better. Cooler visuals, a more engaging plot that followed the book nicely, and hey, it was a killer soundtrack with Jarvis Cocker on board.

Oh well, Cong told me how he liked US and A, and how everything's sorta sweeter and funner and brighter and more alive there. Instead of sterile Singapore where everything bores the hell outta you. Sigh. Every year I rot in NUS, I lose a thousand more brain cells. In this hellhole where I have to conform against my wishes just to keep afloat.


I hate flyers. Ha. Ha. Very funny.

Walked a hell lot, crapping about Dating Theory and How Singapore Sucks and all, stopping by some shops here and there. CD shops. Stuff. Crumpler bags are hell of expensive. Damn. And stuff in the US and A is sometimes ridiculously cheap online if you know the right places, so that's one major Cool Plus Point. We're both so bored of Orchard.

Cong's meeting some friends, so I went home and all. Tried to do some revision, but damn, only lasted half an hour.

And diabolical plan to ship Crumpler bag from USA to save money fell through. Shipping's insane.

I'd Do Anything for Love (but I Won't Do That)

Pardon the OMGWTF title but yeah, I did make meatloaf.

The morning was a bike ride, after not having touched the bike for a long while. Thankfully, no mechanical faults. And I rode rather decently for a guy recovering from a bad flu. But the bike was so dirty I gave it a good towelling down after the ride.

But there was nothing - nothing at all at home that I could use, so, whatdoIdo? Off to the nearby NTUC! It rocks to have a newly-opened hypermart just 3 bus-stops away.



But it's a Saturday, and it's really crowded. Put my people-dodging skills to good use. As a cyclist, I've been trained to watch out for where people are going and to pre-empt and stuff. So, I can zip through crowds pretty much better than most anyone there.



The spoils! Turned out there were Simpsons tees on sale at Bossini. And no, I can't say no to The Simpsons. Heck, it's only $26 for 2 for movie tees. AMK Bossini has great service. Great, as in they offered to help me with those bags of NTUC stuff and all when I struggled to find some place to put them down. Kudos to them!



On the way back in a stupid Volvo B9TL. Hate those Nauseamaschinen which gotta shift through all 6 gears just to get to speed. And when the driver signals, the whole bus fills with the annoying beep of an emergency room cardiac monitor. And they're freaking everywhere! Not just in Bishan, but in the whole of Singapore. And even in Hong Kong.



Before. Meeeeeat. Actually I cheated. I mixed in potatoes and chicken into the beef to keep costs low and healthiness high.



Got into a small disaster when I tried to mash undercooked potatoes with a fork. Ended up mashing the softer parts, dicing the harder parts. Which was a bad idea cause the whole meatloaf ended up a weird consistency in the end. Added spices, onions, tomato.



It's not THAT bad, but it's a minor disappointment. Maybe ground beef just ain't my kinda thing. And it's definitely too little beef, and too much potatoes and chicken, cause it didn't taste very meaty.



Served with veges. And also garlic toast. And red wine. Oh well, at least my family finished it.



And then I was drunk.

I'm drunk

teeheehee

Where is my mind?

Blogging from the hospital library.

And I dunno, I was doing quite okay, going on my solo sprees of medical interviewing, in order to hone in my skills. Did quite okay - and in Chinese. Usually I'm pretty retarded when interviewing in Chinese, but hey, this time round I did get the facts quite nicely.

So into another ward I went into to do the same.

And it was a cancer ward. People on Do Not Resus and people who have so much optimism in them, you'd think it's blanket denial of the dire truth that the more unfortunate ones are almost definitely going to die soon.

Couldn't take it, and here I hide in the library instead.

King For A Day

Random song:
Green Day - King For A Day
Started at the age of 4.
My mother went to the grocery store.
Went sneaking through her bedroom door to find something in a size 4.

Sugar and spice and everything nice wasn't made for only girls.
GI Joe in panty hose is making room for the one and only.

King for a day, princess by dawn.
King for a day in a leather thong.
King for a day, princess by dawn.
Just wait 'til all the guys get a load of me.

My daddy threw me in therapy.
He thinks I'm not a real man.
Who put the drag in the drag queen.
Don't knock it until you tried it

Yeah I still do feel sick and everytime I blow my nose and try to get rid of the gooey crud that's been sitting in my sinuses for days and growing various kinds of bacteria, I'm afraid the vessels in my nose will burst again.

Because I'd never forget last night when I blew my nose and instead of stringy mucous, blood sputtered out. Scrambled to pack my nostril with tissue paper the way I usually do. About time. I average one nosebleed a year, while none of my family members ever seem to have them.



Be careful of what you wish for. In a way I don't mind falling ill as it's a convenient excuse to take things easy. But what I got in the end is feeling sick the whole of the next day. Cold. Hot. Cold. Hot. Blocked nose. Woozy. Diarrhoea. (The last one was from all that ice cream from last night.)

Interrupted sleep from 11am to 12pm. Add that to the 3h nap the previous afternoon and that's a OMFG amount of sleep. It's sort of convenient sleeping so much from being sick, so that I can avoid the world. But it's nasty.

==

But I won't get me down.

Sorta stoned on the computer reading random non-school-related stuff on Wikipedia. And it's sorta cool when you read up on aviation and its accidents and realise how little it takes to crash a plane full of passengers. Repair a damaged plane's tail with too few rivets, and and 12000 flights later, the whole vertical stabiliser breaks and the whole plane goes down.

There's so much precision involved in keeping a metal behemoth floating with 10km of thin air between it and the hard ground. So much physics and engineering involved. Rocket science. Literally.



But well, as for the pilot, who's always glamorised way more than the aerospace engineers, all he does is to flip the controls and let autopilot do most of the work. Disappointing really, you'd expect the pilot to have a much tougher job than to push the levers and do the occasional radio comms to the air traffic controller. The bus driver who gets you through the harrowing traffic and to your school or workplace has a more exhausting job.

I have a new-found respect for the captains of the Volvo Olympians I commute in.

==

Went out with the old guard of secondary school friends and hell, it was fun, just crapping about just like we did since we were 15. I won't let feeling sick get me down. In fact, the grogginess made it easier for me to act silly and happy and all.

Can someone crash a car into me just so hard that I knock my head and a concussion just hard enough for me to lose all my memories from secondary school onwards? Then I'd have to repeat secondary school and be happy all over over again.

Pizza Hut. The New cheese thingie is really quite good. But the pizza's tiny. A friend was looking at another friend's travel photos as though it was a mail order bride catalogue, which was hilarious.



Boy, do I miss them. They're the ones who kept me sane when I was sorta kooky in secondary school. I guess, it's them who had managed to get me through life thus far. They might not feel it, but it's so true.

==



Spotted a couple of days back. SMRT should really keep their posters up to date.

Oxygen

You talk of oxygen as Science teachers do
I have never doubted what was true
But now I can live without oxygen
I am proud of my hypoxic condition

Woozy, groggy, floating in the lumpy wool
Like a massive airliner on the spool
Ten thousands metres above you
A world so alone and so icy cool

I don't need your oxygen if all I must do
Is float.
I don't care if I
Crash.

==

You guessed it. I'm feeling quite sick and woozy today.

Everlong

Saturday. So I had to, like, wake up totally groggy and sick at an unearthly 7am for the movie. What movie? Well, it's The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and I watched it with my closer classmates, SH, KW, J and HC. The 4some who watched Death Note and crapped with together the other time!

And we came across this ueberly cool shop that sells toyish stuff, and there's a toy where you put it in sunlight and its cute little head bops left and right. It's solar-powered! yay for photovoltaic cells! The teacher I did relief teaching was a couple of years back had a similar ornament on her desk, which was leaves rather than a head, which always mesmerised me totally.

There's one that glows in the dark, and it's sorta stupid because if it's dark, the head won't bop in the first place! Then HC had to spoil it all by saying that it isn't the original one. Bleagh. Didn't buy it.

Yoshinoya's disappointing again. I just can't seem to gety myself to like stringy beef and plain rice...

Went shopping around with KW and he's gonna buy this totally expensive collar tee from Lacoste (reverse Crocodile, as I call it) which is like, something I'd never do! Well, expensive preppy fashion is not my kinda thing. It doesn't look all that eye-catching, and I really can't afford it. But hey, I guess it's to fit in in some more formal social situations.

As for GAP, oh forget it, they're America's Giordano and Bossini sold at designer prices.

Vivocity next to meet a friend! Yay! Oh and playing Phoenix Wright (forcing myself to finish the damned game since I'm almost done with it anyway) along the way. I daresay it's gonna be a forgettable game, apart from the absurdly humorous situations like taking a parrot to the witness stand.



Oh and there's Live Earth on TV (and 89.3FM, TVMobile's audio channel) and that's pretty cool. Literally stayed up the night to watch Keane (blah), Linkin Park (Chester Bennington really messed up his singing, he's off key most of the time), Beastie Boys (they're twice as good as they were when tehy performed in Good Vibratiosn Festival in Singapore) and the Foo Fighters. OMFG Foo Fighters were excellent! I could just watch them again, and again, and again. The semi-acoustic rendition of their classic Everlong was so good, I don't think any of their performances will ever top that.

That was 5am.

==

Woke again at 9am to catch the Smashing Pumpkins, but online streaming was down and I have no idea what time Channel 5 gonna show it, oh well, I'll give it a miss.



They got new things on the railroad ties on the MRT system nowadays. Are they like some position sensing thing to aid braking?

Sunday afternoon was spent having fun with Ryan in City Hall area, and Soup Spoon's great stuff. Their clam chowder rocks. Creamy, clammy, chowdery.



There seems not to be any really nice red T-shirts around, I gotta renew my repertoire of red tees. Some are baggy, others worn, one plain ugly. Oh damn. Somehow I have this fetish in red, and anyone who wears red - including me - look twice as they would in any other colour.

Went off to Marina Square, and the damn fever's back with a vengeance.



WZ's birthday party, and all the old secondary school mates are there. They're all doing different things - some on scholarships, others on the Dean's List, but all except me have achieved something they really can be proud of. Oh fuck me. I feel like I've wasted my life or something. Hey no matter what somebody has to fill the last place, no?

But deep deep inside, they're still the same old people we used to have fun with together. Very nice, I like.



Lerk Thai's food was not bad, some hits, some misses, but I personally prefer Thai Express for their in-your-face kinda dishes.







The lemongrass drink is surprisingly palatable, considering how the strong smell of home-grown lemongrass in my balcony often sickens me. It's probably just the sugar/blocked nose/delirium from fever.

A bunch of us planned to drink after that, but it was getting late and logistics weren't on our side. Heck, I was too delirious from feeling feverish to drink anyway.

==

Monday. School.

Richie: What happens if you forget to flush in the aeroplane toilet and then you hit turbulence?
Me: The shit hits the fan.

Met with Richie for lunch, then Sim Lim. Richie needs a USB hard disk enclosure for a spare hard disk, and I need a hard disk enclosure and a new hard disk, for all the photos and music and videos.

After loads of walking around looking for the best prices and colours for hard disk enclosures, here it is:



Vantec Nexstar 3 SATA > eSATA + USB

No Leaf Clover

I haven't blogged lately.

Instead of leaving this space blank and leaving you walking out of this dead blog with a bad taste in your mouth, I'm putting in a summary which I will fill in when I feel

1. less harried by everything around me
2. better from my bout of illness
3. like I want to blog again, it seems like the audiences are fatigued and have stopped commenting and coming in regularly, so hey you, there. Come visit more often!

==

What I'll fill you in about:

Saturday - details, morning movie (review already done), preppy fashion in Singapore (which I just can't understand - what's with $100 collar tees and all - and oh GAP sucks), Vivocity, Live Earth FOO FIGHTERS AND BEASTIE BOYS ROCK MY SOCKS

Sunday - Soup Spoon, Lerk Thai - food reviews. Friendships, how people change, but deep deep down inside, they're mostly the same.

Monday - school hit the fan effed up, clementi jap lunch, SLS with Richie, Vantec Nexstar 3 hard disk enclosure

==

But it's late and I'm tired now and I'm procrastinating this entry. Call me cheap, but cheap, tabloidy 'don't miss our next issue' pages do bring in the audiences!

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

I had no idea what this movie was about when I was dragged into it by my bunch of closer classmates. I guess I trust their taste and all. However, what was the clincher was that the movie was created in part by Yoshiyuki Sadamoto who's the character designer in my favourite anime series ever, Neon Genesis Evangelion.

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time is, well, self explanatory. It's about a girl who can leap through time! After finding herself saved from a fatal bicycle accident by a time leap, she slowly discovers how she could make use of it to get what she wants, although with sometimes dire consequences.

While it contains sci-fi elements and a fair dose of the typical time travel themes (boy do we get so sick of them), the film is largely a romantic comedy.

Funny most of the way but tragic at times, it explores the sweetness and innocence of teen love.

Really, there's hardly any sci-fi so the time travel thing shouldn't turn the female audience off.

While the feel-good factor of the film works out really well, it's also quite a forgettable one. Sorta like Meet The Robinsons, only Japanese.

Thank You

Gaston: Dismissed! Rejected! Publicly Humiliated! Why, it's more than I can bear.
LeFou: More beer?
Gaston:What for? Nothing helps. I'm disgraced.
- Beauty and the Beast

I'm Not OK (I Promise)

Nah, not an emo post, but a post explaining the lack of an emo post for today.

I've got a nasty cold bug. And I feel feverish though I didn't bother to go measure it.

Hot. Cold. Sleep. Wake. I look at the clock and it's 11pm but it doesn't feel like it at all. My biological clock's fried.

Bad day, cause I'm ultra cranky when I feel unwell and nobody understands that. Get on my nerves and I'll trounce onto your nerves doubly hard.

And I gotta wake at 7am tomorrow in time for a movie. Gee.

Monkey Magic

OK, so today's trip to school was more or less a wasted trip.

University Co-op, and got the NUS Centinneal lanyard for my brother and a spare one for myself. Like me thinks it's OMFG KAWAII!!11!! too. And a spare pouch for the MP3 player. Don't look at me funny, it's the least fruity looking one I could get for $2.



Off to Orchard on a bus, seated behind a guy with a Nokia Communicator phone/organizer thingie. He wore a tight colourful tee, bermudas and brown leather shoes with shiny buckles, so you know. Well, at least he looks decent enough to pull it off.

==

Random funny pic for all ya colorectal surgeons. You won't get it unless you know about fistulotomies, so don't rack your brains over it.



==

I had to get some errands done.

1. get my MP3 player back from Sony after repairs. Sony's repair service is great, to be honest. They had short queues, friendly counter staff and processed the paperwork quickly. However what was impressive was that they had repaired it within 72h, rather than the 7 days I was quoted.

Haven't really tried out the battery life to see if it's really fixed, but hey, at least the battery gauge read FULL after an hour of charging, which had never happened for the past few months before.



2. redeem my Free $10 book from Popular. As Orchard Popular was having a closing-down 20% storewide discount, (for some inexplicable reason - it's not as if I'd get any extra benefit given that the 20% discount had nothing to do with it at all) I was not able to use it there. Dammit!

Oh, they still have they Harry Potter pre-orders, except without the free $10 book. Bought 2 lanyard card holders along the way. Mine's dying.

3. eat. Burger King had this $4.25 meal coupon thingie where you got a teeny weeny Coke and a teeny weeny onion rings and a teeny weeny burger for that price. And indeed, they didn't even put in the slice of cheese in my Rendang burger. And it was just that - a bun with a tasteless patty inside. I feel cheated. Damn. Should've taken a photo or something, submitted a complain email in the hopes of getting a meal voucher. But hey, I can't be bothered over a meal. That's cheapskate!

At least the onion rings taste like onion rings.

==

It's the era where many of the bands we love are churning out their sophmone albums - Thirteen Senses, Editors, Velvet Revolver, Kaiser Chiefs, Arctic Monkeys, just to name a very few. I wonder how they're faring? Well, if they're that good, I would have heard of them, and many of them probably didn't make the cut. Sigh. Time to scout out new bands!

==

On this weekday afternoon, Orchard is teeming with guys acting romantic with other guys, and guys who dress like they want to be romantic with another guy. You can sort of tell. Guys who look extremely vain, sometimes effeminate, but most of the time the gaydar just beeps.

Or they're so obviously fondling each other, just like 2 of the couples I saw today.

I've got totally nothing against them - sometimes you can look at them holding hands and acting totally sweet, and just know that they truly love each other deeply - no doubt about it. It takes alot of love to want to ignore how the whole world sneers and jeers and just be lost in each other. And that's so AWWWW SO SCHWEEEET N KAWAII I WANNA GO OUT THERE AND CONGRATULATE THEM.

But, well, what's with all that whole gay-culture thing? Dressing so garishly, wearing tees so tight, speaking so effeminately, that even the most stoic of people cringe. It's one thing for them to like guys, but another thing to go running around Orchard Road, flaunting and parading their holier-than-thou attitude.

I've got a few hypotheses:
1. They do that as a mating call, so they seek other men who are like them.
2. They want to fit into that gay culture thingie. Peer pressure is a more powerful force than most of us reckon.
3. The same thing that makes them gay makes them act that way - maybe they're effeminate due to biology, and that same biological traits make them gay.
4. They tend to be more vain. And hmm, I really can't think of any reason why.
5. Gay pride.

I can't claim to understand, so, well, let's just leave it as that. But gay pride? Eww. I dunno, minority pride of any kind gives me the shudders. Gay pride, minority-race pride, physical-disability pride, etc. Honourable or not, it feels like they're trying too hard.

The best form of acceptance is equal rights, not preferential treatment.

==

Currently listening to The Phantom of the Opera DVD my mom bought in Hong Kong - great stuff! Sadly, no surround sound in my room so it's either the bland-sounding 2.0 track or the weird-sounding downmix of the 5.1 version.

Holes in the Wall

After the marathon 11pm session on Monday, I decided to give Tuesday a miss. WTF I'm already sleep-deprived enough I'd never be able to survive the rigours of lectures and long marathon clinic sessions.

Was all set to do some overdue revision, but ended up lazing around online, reading about aerodynamics, then being all inspired to try out my theories.



What better way to test out aerodynamic principles than folding paper aeroplanes? Was trying to get an optimal lift-to-weight ratio, which proved to be rather hard.

Try to emulate the shapes of aeroplanes too much, and you'll lose too much stiffness. Have too much lift without a counterweight to balance it out and you'll get a plane that shoots upwards and stalls. Get rid of the winglets and tail and the plane won't fly stably. The slower the plane flies, the more difficult it is to keep it going straight.

And just when you think you've got a decent shape, you realise it's so damn hard to launch the aeroplane without it nosediving or stalling because every little change in attack angle changes the amount of lift drastically.

Enough. I'm not learning to be an aerospace engineer anyway. But it'd be quite cool to make a cardboard glider that can glide a payload of a can of Pringles across a field, no?

==



Watched Transformers eventually, after, like, getting totally desperate and MSNing and SMSing close to 10 people asking if they'd watch with pathetic loserish me.

At least my secondary school mates didn't ditch me. They've been planning Transformers for a while so it was convenient for me to just turn up. Yay! Haven't met up with them for a while but no awkward moments, so as long as I put up a good show and act like Mr Nice and Funny Guy.

As for the beef itself; the movie. Hell yeah it's good. The plot (or the lack of it) flows really well, which is expected when you got Michael Bay (of Armageddon fame) and Spielberg at the helm. The robots are animated really well, to the extent that you can actually think that Frenzy is cute and that the party of Autobots are more human than robot. There's quite an intimate collaboration with Hasbro (the bastard stepbrother of Takara which produces the inferior toys for the American market) so don't expect too many acts of travesty. But it's sad how they created a bastardisation of Soundwave and called it Frenzy just to fit the role.

Oh! The plot. Well, there's one, and it's admittedly clever in some parts - a goofy high-school kid who had almost sold the future of mankind on eBay and a huge dollop of conspiracy theory. Most of it is cheesy fodder though but hey, it's a Transformers movie, not a drama epic. And while the ueberly corny ending had incited the derision of many, it's not half as bad as the ending of the Matrix trilogy.

There's not too much to fault about it from a critic's point of view, but it just doesn't do enough to impress. As reflected by professional critics giving it a much higher appraisal. Maybe it's the cracks in the plot's logic that are huge enough for even Optimus Prime to fall into - why did they fight so long and hard, when the final finishing move could have been done way earlier? Or that it depended on a series of divine coincidences - the college kid who holds the key to saving the world somehow happened to come across Bumblebee; everyone somehow happened to be at the right place at the right time.

Or maybe it's just the cheese. But if you suspend your disbelief just for that two hours, I promise you'd enjoy yourself in the world of majestic-yet-fluid robots even if you're not a fan of the Transformers.

Grade: 4/5

==

Sleep? Bah. Never got any until 3.30am, and I guess it's from the hyperness that rubbed onto me from my exclassmates and from the movie.

I hate not being able to sleep. Too groggy to do anything productive, yet awake.

==

Wednesday was a marathon day in school. Learned how a baby is delivered, and it's so DAMN FREAKING SWEET AND LOVELY WHEN THE BABY POPS OUT AND HERALDS ITS EXISTENCE WITH A KAWAIIIIIIII CRY. It's so beautiful, I swear I almost cried.

And yay, I'm ahead of schedule in terms of the seemingly-impossible quota of evaluation forms I have to get done. I've been so lucky lately I'm convinced I'm gonna get a really bad spate of rebound bad luck anytime from now.

==

Yay.

Pattern Against User

Shits, I'm subconsciously naming every blog entry with a song title, the same way Mexcel does.

After so many years that Blogger had implemented titles for entries, I still find it superfluous. For most people, a personal blog is in many ways a journal/diary and you don't really give names to your days right? Other than the obligatory day/month/year of course. And if you're Bridget Jones, your weight/cigarettes smoked/booze chugged/times jilted.

So, why bother with titles. Just fill up with the most convenient pretentious arty-farty phrase, and that usually means a song title.

Pattern Against User is by At The Drive-In, a 2000 indie metal band which had reached critical acclaim but not much popularity. Used to REALLY like it as an angsty 16 year old. How can anyone not like such a frantic and powerful work?

At The Drive-In split in the middle in 2001, producing The Mars Volta and Sparta. Never really was into them though.

==

Monday wasn't that bad. Somehow the lucky stars were shining extra brightly, and despite being totally un-fucking-prepared for the attachment, I came out only lightly seared at the edges, not charbroiled or flame-grilled.

And I got 3 of the mini evaluations completed in a day, and I'm supposed to do 4 every week (other groups with other mentors are having to do 2 for a total of 3 weeks, as opposed to 12 for mine so that's totally unfair.)

Let's just say that the day's work was slimy, moist and sometimes fungal.

==

First night and I'm supposed to stay till late already. Actually, being the pessimistic me, I'd have figured that the worst would happen anyway, and when it happens, I don't feel too bad about it.

One of life's precious lessons. Imagine the worst case scenario. Then let the mind wander and imagine all the worst possible outcomes and scenarios. Then accept that reality would be even worse than the nastiest we can ever imagine.

And when the shit really hits the fan, you won't feel too bad if it splatters back into your face.

Actually, to be honest, I was looking forward to the night attachment. It legitimises my no-show at the clinic. At least, to my own conscience. Yay. I still feel like being an asshole for taking them all for a ride and wasting their time. Yes. The irresponsible, selfish KC actually does feel bad about that, no matter how unbelievable!

==

Long days make me cranky, and after raiding the fridge for any semblance of food (being on your feet the whole day makes one hungry), I caught up with things in my little online world, and fell asleep on the chair, totally exhausted. Jerked awake, switched off the lights, and of to a deep slumber. I'm not waking for school. I need the sleep. And the reading up.

I wish I had the energy that my classmates do/

I wish I had the determination of those pale, cachexic ones that look like they had spent their previous years battling their own cancer and COPD, and are now battling the indomitable syllabus. They never seem to need food/water/sleep/etc. And they do well in school. True, they have no life and they have no vitamin D, but aren't they happy doing what they do?

==

I need a social life. Or at least people to catch up on movies with. WTF I have a Transformers keychain but I've yet to watch the movie.

Maybe I should eat humble pie and go watch movies by myself or something. Why hurt myself trying to find people to be with and all, when it's easier to just concede that I'd fail anyway, and watch the movies myself anyway?

At least I'd get to watch the movie.

Supermassive Blackhole

Oh, I preordered Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at Thomson Plaza Popular, so if any of you preordered there, I'll be in the queue at 7am that day.

And I'm already worrying about wasting it all when I'm not going to be able to muster the strength to read a full-length novel. Is it age, or something more sinister? I can't bring myself to complete a novel cover to cover the past few months or so. I just don't seem to be able to focus that well anymore. Sure, I had pushed myself to read Jurassic Park a couple of weeks ago, but boy, that was painful, and the words sorta just floated above my head. I didn't really enjoy it.

Focus, KC, focus. Don't let life pass you without you realising.

==

I have so much to say, but so little words I can use to express it. Where do I even begin?

The futility of life itself?

The way the prospects of reality itself all added up and jackknifed unto itself last night?

But not all's lost. There's some things that still do matter, no matter what. It feels embarrassing though, clinging onto a single life line, when everyone else's strong enough to move along by their own steam.

==

On this very day, I brought my Sony MP3 player to the repair centre as the battery capacity was slowly ebbing away. And on today, I had realised that my brother had bought a very similar Sony MP3 that would probably share the same problem in future. Oh dammit.

==

The prospects of school going full tilt tomorrow's utterly scary. I'd do anything to have an excuse to avoid it. Maybe if I get hit by a truck and lay in a coma for a few weeks it'd be nice. Or if I end up in a mad rampage and get locked up. But reality is more mundane, and probably, I'd have to meekly trot to school, endure the pain, take it like a man.

And I don't know if I can do it.

==

Heck, unless some sort of a revelation/threat/etc happens, I'm not going to the appointment tomorrow. It's just too hard to tell the truth, that I'm really in a shitty state, and that throwing myself in front of a raging diesel truck isn't totally off the cards. And as for the pills, well, they were obviously misused.

It's easier to hide. And hey, maybe it's all a sham I've so carefully constructed for myself. Maybe I'm just faking it all for the attention. I don't deserve any of the help that the truly deserving ought to be getting.

Unless you use force and drag me there. I'd be kicking and screaming, but it's prolly good for me and I might just end up being eternally grateful for that. I dunno.

==

I'm polluting the very ground that I trod on, the air that I breathe; the objects that I look at, the people that I encounter, with a gloom that's so vile and toxic, I wish I had never existed.

Tagged by Richie

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. KC
2. K**** C*****
3. Eh

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU'VE HAD:
1. k*******
2. gonococcus
3. neisseria

THREE THINGS YOU'VE DONE IN THE LAST 33 MINUTES:
1. mope
2. shower
3. chat on MSN

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. I consider myself rather wise
2. I don't look too bad (if Ryan's hawt and KC looks somewhat like Ryan then KC must be somewhat hawt too)
3. I can feel better than most people do

THREE THINGS YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. Tummy
2. I'm sad
3. I'm weak

THREE PARTS OF YOUR ORIGINS:
1. Caesarian-section
2. Ang Mo Kio
3. 1985

THREE THINGS YOU'RE AFRAID OF:
1. Being all alone
2. Bees, hornets and wasps
3. Failure

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. T-shirt
2. shorts
3. nil

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Air
2. Food
3. Water

THREE IMPORTANT OBJECTS:
1. Computer
2. Music
3. Object of my desire

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS:
1. L'arc En Ciel
2. Manic Street Preachers
3. Snow Patrol

THREE WAYS TO BE HAPPY:
1. Sex
2. Drugs
3. Alcohol

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. Ready Steady Go - L'arc En Ciel
2. Singing In My Sleep - Semisonic
3. Original Of The Species - U2

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. Godiva chocolates
2. A proper rollercoaster
3. being happy

THREE THINGS YOU REGRET:
1. Birth
2. Existence
3. Not having played enough as a kid

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:
1. Love
2. Love
3. Love

THREE IMPORTANT THINGS YOU'VE GIVEN TO THE WORLD:
1. Pain
2. Anguish
3. Despair

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (not in order)
1. I'm freeballing
2. I'm feeling pretty messed up now
3. One of the above lines is a lie

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX:
1. Meh.
2. Meh.
3. Meh.

THREE EMOTIONAL (?) THINGS YOU LIKE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX:
1. Meh.
2. Meh.
3. Meh.

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Roll my tongue
2. Be happy
3. Be strong

THREE THINGS YOU MISS FROM YOUR PAST:
1. Toys
2. Being able to to get what you want by throwing a tantrum in the toy store
3. Finding joy in every little thing

THREE GIFTS YOU WOULD LIKE TO RECEIVE:
1. Love
2. A new phone with a wicked camera and wifi
3. Something that makes me able to find joy in things again

THREE REASONS WHY YOU ARE WHO YOU ARE:
1. Bad genetics
2. Bad influence
3. Nobody loves me

THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:
1. Fantasising
2. Checking out the latest alternative music
3. Writing

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Hold someone really tightly and
2. burying my head in that someone's arms and
3. being comforted

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Quack doctor
2. Pudding chef
3. Automotive designer

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO FOR HOLIDAY:
1. UK
2. NZ
3. Disneyland

THREE CARTOON CHARACTERS:
1. Bart Simpson
2. Spongebob
3. Plucky duck

THREE BOYS' NAMES:
1. Andrew
2. Brandon
3. Christopher

THREE GIRL'S NAMES:
1. Danni
2. Elizabeth
3. Fergie

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Write my obits
2. Make sure that the rope's taut
3. Kick the stool

THREE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO DO THIS:
1. Ryan
2. Pkchukiss
3. Jan

Affront, a front

So this is Sunday morning and I've yet to even start on the textbook, which the mentor expects us to finish cover to cover, remember all the facts and figures and etc in a weekend. It's an absurd proposition, along with many others.

Why do I even bother. I'd just assume that it's an impossible task, and then decide not to do it. That's way easier.

In life, sometimes circumstances make us do things that we think are impossible. We push ourselves because we get motivation, and we want to challenge ourselves. But right now, I just don't have the drive, ya see?

==



My pancakes are getting better and really, the trick is adding more milk, and honing in the cooking technique. Yay. And I finished cooking a thick stack of them in barely an hour.

==



My JC class met up on Saturday over Swensens, and there was the fair share of fun, and crapping with our previous Maths teacher who's now back from the UK with a PhD in mathematics. He did this cool paper on functional programming, which is, like: conventional programming means doing a mathematical function on a variable, then storing the variable ready as the input for the next function. Functional programming piggybacks all the functions together in a chain, so that you don't have to store intermediate values in memory every time.

I can't claim to know exactly what it implies, but perhaps stuff like audio or photo editing (where there's so much mathematics done on samples that you end up getting rounding errors that degrade the quality) it might be worthwhile using such a concept?

But hey, on second thought, why go through all that agony when all it takes is upping the precision of the values, doing all the mathematics, then using dithering to bring it back to lower precision, which is already being done these days.

==

It's paranoia time, and I dunno, but no matter how hard I try, it seems like I can't make everyone comfortable around me. Or maybe I try too hard. It's a front I have to put up. Otherwise I'd be a loony in their eyes or something. Maybe they can SMELL it, that I'm faking it all and am a charlatan.

A few guys in the class study in the USA and are having a ball of a great time over there, soaking in the culture and stuff. While all the meddies have to share is their cynicism.

==

Well, everyone's still more or less the same. Sorta. Actually not really. While they behave the same way, it seems like there's this difference under the hood. It's like, different things make them tick. The motivations, the experiences, they're all so vastly different for each person, it's only reasonable to expect that everyone's going to drift apart. Somehow. Sometime.

So, how have I changed? Mainly, I've become a cynical old bastard who makes crude jokes and secretly sneers at everything. Studying what I study makes me cold and pessimistic. You can't not get scarred by the fact that so many of the patients that you've some come across the way have now taken new roles fertilising the grass around their tombstones, hidden behind a marble plaque collecting dust, or as fish food.

Disappointments, unreasonable demands, et cetra. I've heard of one definition of 'job strain' being high job stress and low potential for decision making. If my student work were a job, job strain would definitely be shooting through the roof. What, we don't even get to decide how we want to learn? And everyone knows how absurd the curriculum and associated paperwork and all are, but like in any bureaucracy, bad things never change.

Our teachers are doctors in actual practice, and behind the veneer of well-pressed shirts and shiny stethoscope, they're ridiculously childish. More so than, let's say, in teaching or in administration. The office politicking they engage in, well, it's like your usual playground quibbles. And it makes them feel good when they put somebody junior down. The big boys beat up the senior trainees beat up the junior trainees beat up the students. Even trainees go bitching about their colleagues to their bosses like whiney schoolgirls.

It's so damn ridiculous, is this really the career path that I had chosen? They don't talk about which surgical trainee has the steadiest hands and the keenest judgement. They talk about which trainee sucks up to which consultant, which trainee has a bigshot daddy who's able to pull the strings.

Quitting is not a choice. There's way too much to lose. And on the other hand, there's nothing to say that I'd do any better in other fields.

And becoming a cynical old bastard is an irreversible process.

Maybe it might be possible to do a career switch in the end, after all, but it's not easy, and I don't have exceedingly good playwrighting skills.

==

Oh well. I guess the things that attracted me to the field still stands. At least I'm doing something purposeful. And it's a decent rice bowl I guess. And the science in it is something that really interests me.

You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometime, you might find you get what you need. - Rolling Stones

Black Balloon

So now I can shift Mexcel's blog from 'People I'd like to meet' to 'People I've met'. Yay.

A summary of how it went.

Ryan cancelled on us. Which is, like, expected, considering the past few weeks. I daresay he's getting worse and more buried in his obsessions lately. Either that or he'd rather be doing other stuff than meet me and my friends and Richie's friends.

Richie says, have no expectations, and you'd have no disappointments. Wise. So that leaves Richie, Richie's friends ( including Mex), Jujube, me.

Met Richie in Sim Lim Tower (aka hardcore geek paradise, Sim Lim Square's for the softcore ones)

1. Gay jokes are gay.

Nothing much left to do there, so, Sim Lim Square.

2. Meizu MP3 players are freakin cool for their price. But I'd never know if they'll last me even half a year, Richie says they will.

3. Call of Duty 3 on Xbox360 is freaking impressive, save for the frustrating controls. Well, I DID play 2 Medal of Honour games on the Playstation (the dual analog controls on them are surprisingly smooth), and Call of Duty 1 on the PC, but on the Xbox360 it just feels weird.

4. Following the scent is NOT the best way to locate certain shops in Sim Lim Square

Then, off to Plaza Singapura. Along the way there's this promoter with a microphone outside The Cathay trying to get some participants for something, and she went like 'it's not nice to say no to a lady' and 'how about putting down that big instrument and having a seat'. WTF.

5. Richie is a nice guy

6. People are bound to be late, so why bother setting times

7. Jujube looks perkier today. Mex's a cool alkie. Lum's a cool wannabe lawyer. Both are equal evils I guess...

8. You can't get food in Plaza Singapura on a Friday evening, unless you're willing to queue for hours. I swear it isn't even half as bad in Hong Kong.

So, we walked in the drizzle to The Cathay, in hopes of getting food without having to queue up. We have hungry. hungry people with us. FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION.

9. But I don't mind the rain/So strike me once again/I've got nothing to lose/And it looks like we are in for stormy weather - Jarvis Cocker

10. Ate at The Indulge in the deep dank recesses (a basement with more than half of the shops either closed/ not yet renovated) of The Cathay. No queue! Though the food took a long wait and they forgot the rice until Richie reminded them. WTF. Waitress stepped on my toes. As in, literally. What is it with me and having air stewardesses spill trays over me/waitresses stepping on my toes/etc? Maybe I'm so hot they're swooning over me. Yay.

11. Food was quite good. Albeit a little unusual tasting. The chicken was ultra-vinegary. But then I can drink vinegar by itself (allegedly Mathemugger can too) so it's alright. But the tofu sucks because, well, it tastes too much like tofu and I hate soft tofu.





12. Bored. Aimless. Walking in random directions. Richie had to go back early so off he went. And Mex was looking for his fix of moonshine, and logistical problems made us decide otherwise. HEY DUDES WE GOT A YOUNG LADY TO KEEP SAFE HERE Y'KNOW.

13. After being assured that Mex and Lum aren't going to rape Jujube on the MRT, I went home, all alone. Yay.

It was fun while it lasted. But dammit, I think I came off as an antisocial loser. First impressions of me always suck.

Nice meeting ya folks.

Last night I dreamed of being crushed by a truck and having my own consciousness ebbing out on me.

Cow Piss

Totally random picture and post title. Why are the Japanese sometimes so clueless about the nuances of the English language?

==

So, today's more lectures in an even stuffier room - and the crappiness of the posting finally dawned onto me, a few days late. I SWEAR my group has it harder than the rest.

I'm procrastinating and I don't dare to read the textbook. Yay. I wanna sleep right now at 9.30pm so I can forget it all.

Actually I've been sleeping alot. On buses, everywhere. Just to avoid the reality that pervades my life. But somehow I don't feel all that rested. All the bad dreams, the voices.

It's particularly depressing on public transport, as that's when I'm truly alone - without instant messaging on the computer, and without classmates in school, and without my family. And without the constant chatter and antics, one's thoughts tend to flow, and when that happens for me, I ruminate over my negativity, and there, I'm a sad mess by the end of the bus ride.

Staring at my freshly-polished black leather shoes. I've a fetish for keeping my shoes clean and shiny.

But in school, at least I'm forced to put up a front and to act happy. But nowadays I can act so well I sometimes believe that I'm actually happy. Hypocrite me. Actually deep deep inside me I'm yearning for a warm caring hug.

Maybe everyone feels like this. Maybe we're all living in our own little bubbles, hiding away all our sad feelings from everyone else, so that everyone else'll believe we're happy and successful people, immune to the worldly emotions of desperation, fear and dejection. Maybe we all want to believe that emotions are only for the weak.

Or maybe it's just that I'm more messed up than the rest. But I'd never know, if everyone keeps all their true feelings hidden under that whitewashed facade.

==

In other news. I swear I do look better these days. New haircut, a leaner, meaner me.

I can look into the mirror without feeling that disgust and self-hatred I used to feel.

And one of my neighbours called me handsome and wanted me to tell my family that.

And another neighbour asked me how I did it.

And my classmates seem warmer to me these days. Yay.

And I get noticed by gay-looking guys on the street and in Bishan Park.



I swear that I'd screw myself if it was even possible!

==



Funny looking mushrooms.

I'm in the school computer lab

because I have 2 hours to waste, of which half an hour was already wasted on mediocre-tasting lunch. Which is real irritating because I'd be growing pointless fat cells for that. And I've been growing lotsa fat cells but those were made from the calories of the tasty food from Hong Kong, which I really don't mind. At least in the short term. So as long as I don't become a fat slob again.

==

I could plonk myself online for hours in the comfort of home, but somehow, on a public terminal, I just can't feel at ease enough to do the inane things I usually do. Blog surfing, MSN, et cetra. It always feels like someone's looking over my shoulder here.

So. Today was even more lectures, and I think my brain's about to explode from all that amount of information I have to cram in. Yay. If I had known better, maybe I'd be in another field? Screw medicine.

Though I'd probably bitch about how pointless it would be if I had studied basic sciences, or how inane everything is in engineering. The grass is always greener on the other side. (Well, the grass IS greener elsewhere like in the USA, but that's because there's less sunlight in those places, and therefore more chlorophyll in the grass.)

I'm dreading it when the posting goes into full swing next week. I'm scared. I'm really scared. The past year was a near-mindrape for me, and if I were to be somehow magically transported back to the previous year and forced to do it again, I can't do it.

==

Mathemugger has noticed that, well, the voices are getting worse. They're telling me to do things (specifically, when they had wanted me to get rid of my hair). And well, last night was particularly bad. Bad enough to wish that I had those benzos to drown them out. Dammit.

I'm dreading the next appointment. 1. Say that I had abused them benzos and therefore being sure that I won't get them anymore? But I'd get proper help if necessary at least, and I wouldn't be lying. Or 2. Lie outright and get the benzos which are oh so damned convenient when I just wanna sleep away a bad day?

Bah screw it. Maybe it's easier not to turn up at all. Screw things. I'll live.

I think.

Whatever

Argh. Stupid bug. I hate the feeling. Not exactly sick, but sickish. Walking's doubly tiring and I can't push myself to get any exercise the past few days. And the headache. And I know it's not psychological, as even my bowels are creaking under the strain of the bug.

==

Night, and I had this extreme compulsion to raze off my hair. As in, extreme enough to make me keep me obsessing over it and all.

You know, I'm not entirely crazy. There's a Wahl hair clipper at home, those kinds that you plug into a socket and let it chop the locks the way a barber does. And barber's scissors - well, I'm sorta experienced at using them (both on myself and others), and yes, I do mean on head hair.

Not too sure what made me this hellbent on getting my mop lopped off, but I can think of several reasons:

1. Long messy hair's frowned at by the faculty, and it's always tempting to be a good, meek student.

2. I hate the way my hair looks now. I don't wanna freaking be me anymore. Because being me sucks. I wanna change my hair, change my life!

3. It gets into my eyes.

4. It's a ritual. It cleanses, it makes me feel cool and simple again.

==

Decided to sleep the urges away. Which sorta worked, except that the hypnagogic hallucinations kept on goading me on. 'Do it! Do it!' However, them cheeky voices were no match for the sheer powers of sleepiness and inertia.

My crown of hair won. At least for the night.

==

Day 2 of the hell that is called school. Usual stuff. Lectures, that are way beyond my understanding. The prospects of doing a field involving the betweens of a woman's legs is... terrifying. I wonder if it bites.

Lunch break, and I could stand the urges to lop off my hair no longer. Off I went to Dover and for $9, I got the deal done. Got it cropped short at a Malay Barber - not Army-short or anything ridiculous, but I guess I like my new hairstyle better.

==

Though when I got back, a couple of friends did a double-take, they didn't expect me to SERIOUSLY go cut my hair when I was just lamenting about it an hour ago.

Mixed opinions. Well. Apparently I now look like a punk.



==

Afternoon was a stitching workshop. ugh. I suck at it. I'd never be a good stitcher, and rest assured I promise I won't pretend otherwise.

Was planning to meet up, but got snubbed again. I guess there are reasons, but methinks this is getting a little absurd. Augh.

Ambled back home, feeling totally exhausted. I must be sick or something.

I blame the world

I knew, even as a kid, that I'd grow up a cynical old fart; just like my parents and grandparents, like the disgruntled worker rushing up the bus to face another boring day in his low-paying job, like much about anyone on the street who's no longer a kid.

I just didn't guess that it'd be so soon. But now I no longer feel excitement or joy or whatever.

As a kid, I was young and curious, and walking through the wet market with mommy can me so rich and memorable I'll probably remember it to my last breath. Now, I'm so old and jaded, everything's all dull and plain to me. I can probably forget days at a go because they're SO boring.

I'd just see the sad and the bad in every waking moment of my life.

==

It's the end of the freaking measly 3 week holiday break and school is back in full force. A particularly intensive 8-week posting to boot.


And it feels horribly meaningless and dreadful when it seems that the faculty in us doing lotsa paperwork and documentation (they say, hey, it helps you keep track of learning but well, none of us students believe that), rather than learning and excelling academically.

Maybe I'm just a boring old fart, but that's how I saw things, and it's not going to be right for you to deny me of my freedom of seeing things my own way.

==

Some administrator there insisted we wear ties, and maintain unreasonable punctuality, and et cetra, to the extent of affecting learning itself. Guess what, I've half a mind to tell him off, making him realise his stupidity, leaving him speechless, then getting away with it. Cause I'm right and he's wrong.

==

I'm a boring old fart because I can bitch about all sorts of things on my blog that doesn't even interest the audience.

==

On a brighter note, it seems like I'm slowly getting on with learning how to appear cheerful and jovial no matter my mood. I can crack a joke and look like I mean it. And that comes in useful, because who would want to befriend or work with me should they know my true colours. Yeah. damn you, shallow people. Damn you, reality.

==

School today was harrowing, but at least I got out early. There's so much homework/paperwork/criteria/etc to settle, so little energy in pathetic me.

And no matter how hard I convince myself to look at things objectively, it seems, that, I'm being shrugged off by someone.

==

Oh, expect my blog to be boring as hell over the next 8 weeks, because:
blog = about my life
my life = school and nothing else
school = boring

Therefore: blog = boring

New Internet Meme!

(usual disclaimer of how this isn't meant to be derogatory to any beliefs, but hey, it's just a humourous adaptation of Russell Peter's famous quote)

Feel free to spread this around!

A dollop of randomness

Achey. Stupid run to Yishun proved to me how unfit I am, and I have abrasions on my feet and achey calves to prove it.

My my my my TV makes me so bored
Makes me say oh my Lord
What is this garbage here?
Wanna cover my eyes and plug my ears
It sucks, and that's no lie
It's about as much fun as watching paint dry
Lowers my IQ one notch
And that's the reason why, uh, I can't watch
- Weird Al Yankovich - I Can't Watch This

Last night was a weird medley of dreams, and I am so glad that it was only a dream that I found my brother's tag on the cbox on my blog. I slept for 10 hours, yay.

STOP! Primetime!

In a freaking good turn of events:
...students are required to sit for a Medical Ethics Vignette Test on (date/time) in place of the Ethics Case Study (ECS).
A one-off test is wayyyyyy better than the long drawn torture of doing that thorny case study thing. Yay for Dean's Office not being total prats. Still can't forgive them for the way they tell us of posting details only on the friday afternoons before the week of the new posting.

I've lotsa library books that are due, and I barely read them. The comics, I did, but novels, bah. I no longer have the concentration or drive to read them cover to cover, at the ripe old age of 22.

Agenda for the rest of my pathetic 3 week break:
Visit frog farm with family on Sunday
Get HK photos totally sorted out, cropped to 3:2 to print
Return library books, maybe trying to finish 1 more
Bring crappy MP3 player to repair place
Textbooks for new posting

The conclusion of a 3 week break, and it didn't even feel like it ever started. But it's all right now, in fact, it's a gas!

My foot hurts. So I'm preserving my mobility for just going to the library today and frog farm tomorrow. Not seeing a person this weekend, which cumulates to not meeting up since 2 weekends ago, and not until next weekend. Which may well be a good thing.

Die, days, die!

Days are stupid.

This is what happened post Hong Kong:

Tuesday: Slacked around at home.

Wednesday: Felt like crap, and well, I finished about 7.5mg (from vague snippets of memory) of amnesia and sleep inducing lorazepam cause I couldn't bare facing the day awake.

Thursday: Woke up hung-over, barely able to walk, stumbling alot.



Let's just say that I got my dosages a little wrong (wanted to keep myself safely asleep and sedated the whole day) but it ended up with me stabbing my pillow with a screwdriver cause I swore it was talking to me.

I don't remember much. That drug causes anterograde amnesia, which means you pretty much forget everything that happens when you're on the drug.

Double vision. Realised I didn't shower at all yesterday. Mysterious coffee stains on shirt. Slowly got better towards the night.



Met up with AS and YC until late at night cause they wanted to make sure I was safe and all. Changi Beach's pretty fun at night, Jalan Kayu prata not so. Crapped alot about everything and hell, it was fun, AS driving us around, teasing bapoks in Changi. Thanks many many, dudes for being there when I needed some company the most.

Friday: A long jog (actually I walked alot) to Yishun just to clear my mind. HL Chocolate milk is the bestest sports drink (alternate it with plain water) if you can tolerate the nausea it causes. It provides you the sugar and protein you badly need on a long run. Took the bus back, as I was pretty damned bushed and semi-comatose by Yishun.