It was an overcast day. Singapore, for a second day straight, experienced a cornucopia of precipitate. You don’t get to see much of that bright, chirpy sun, that warmth with which radiates from it, those fleecy white clouds; in short, it’s pretty gloomy. Much like how London is all year round.
Today, I pitched the idea of going clubbing to my mum. I answered every of her doubt with as much acumen as I could master, my tone firm and reassuring. I know my guy friends all worry for me when I say I’d would love to go and experience it first hand, so I’m pretty sure they’d generously volunteer to accompany me. When I told my mum I’d be under their constant surveillance and protection, she simply couldn’t see my reasoning. I think my dad’s rubbed off his sentiments that ‘boys’ is a taboo word onto her, so much so anything I do that is as much as intertwined with BOYS receive the wrong sort of attention. Unsurprisingly, the conversation ended with no head, no tail. She’s doubtful, so she says, “Ask your dad.” Awesome.
Tuition today went –Fine-. The grading system’s pretty simple actually; it’s only one of the few: fine, bad, exasperating, murderous. So I guess I should be happy? Actually, my tutee’s not that bad, she’s a smart girl, she’s just so damn easily distracted and unfocused, I’m at my end’s wits about how I can help her stay committed to learning for a mere one hour half, if at all. Man, the past couple of months tutoring her has really helped me honed my patience, not to mention it has helped a great deal in killing millions of brain cells as well. Pray my brain cells recharge and repair and rejuvenate and reproduce, fast.
I went to meet R for dinner today at Simei. Yes, it spells nostalgia. We walked into KFC and the same smell present there since 6 years ago immediately hit me hard, and the whole cache of memories rushed into my head like a broken dam. Woah. Hackneyed as it might sound, everything seemed like it happened just yesterday. In retrospect, the whole bunch of us was so young then. And I vividly remember the pounding in my head, at least a good 5 years back, whenever L so much as turned to look in my direction. Those were the days, weren’t it? Young and impressionable, when it seemed like my friends was the very basis of my existence. Hilarious.
And so we chatted over dinner at BK (while we ate, R’s dip was this mixed mayo with chilli sauce which turned out to be this pretty nauseating orangey cream paste, on first look anyway, which he says tastes good. What’s special about it was the fact that he mentioned KH was actually the one he learned it from, well, talk about the people I’d never forget, KH would be at the top man! Come back soon to visit this tiny island where you know all the good food, and fantastic friends are okay!) about “matured” stuff actually, about the future, about ambitions, about life really. Perhaps because I was brooding over how badly I would do for my A level results, so he wanted me to see there was more to life than just results alone. I guess it was a sweet gesture of him to steer our conversation in that direction, maybe he did it unwittingly, but still, it was comforting, in some warped sense. To actually try to perceive how there is so much more to see, to experience, to live, to relive. R also asked me about the worst case scenario, what if I did so badly, I couldn’t qualify for local U, neither could I see myself going overseas, then what?
It’s quite distressing actually if he puts it that way. Like your whole world would come to a standstill, if you so much as didn’t do well for you’re A levels. It’s weird how society is so damn practical that it’s able to imbue in every single youth the importance of one’s academia. Dammit. But then again, it’s nice to know that I’ll have people there for me who are willing to loan me a shoulder so my tears can soil their shirt, to loan me a listening ear so I can hurt it with all my ranting, to loan me their precious time so I can throw whatever princess tempers I might have bottled inside of me after I witness what’s possibly the most anxiety-stricken period of my life. Thank you! (=
Though if you guys know me well enough, you would have guessed I would very much rather confine myself to a week of isolation under the pretext of being quarantined due to an ailment as common as the common cold. It sucks to disappoint the people who care about me, who have so much confidence in me that in their eyes, my failing any tests/exams is inconceivable; when in actual fact I’ve failed sufficient times to make me numb to that horrid, empty feeling that makes my cheeks go warm (especially when I peep over my shoulder to find my genius classmates obtaining perfect scores, and my Chem teacher likes to reward their good work with cute little stickers that seem to scream out at me when I stare at them, “LOSER!.” Tell me I’m hallucinating). I bet I can say all this and people will still go,”Bahh, what a liar.” Talk about disappointment. So really, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep away from people I would hate to break the dismaying news to, like “I’m so sorry but the genius you see in me from all my stupid mugging, that’s merely an oasis that lasted a couple of years longer than it should in the past”. Unfortunately, I can’t hide from people like my grandma. Mostly because she knows my home number by heart and if there’s any place to put myself under isolation, it would be Home. I’m doubtful, but do you think I can feign a sore throat so I don’t have to speak to anyone?
It’s pretty random. But have you watched the ubiquitous (sickening) Dettol advertisements on TV these past few months? I hate it for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it occurs so damn often and what with advertising EVERY SINGLE ONE of their products, from hand sanitizers, to floor cleaners, to bath foams, to shampoos, YEAH. Soon they’ll have funny dettol tasting products that you can ingest. Secondly, they LOVE to highlight and emphasize and stress and moan about how important it is to live in an absurdly clean environment with absolutely no germs and bacteria and fungi and what other harmful substances there are co-existing with human beings on planet earth. I mean, get real. Being so super duper clean might not necessarily be a good thing right? Oh c’mon, it’s just gonna bring down people’s immune systems and in future, the doctors will be the ones laughing their way to the (often not-in-service) cash deposit machines while the common people continue to cut coupons on the latest Dettol product offers. The irony. (Goodness. I don’t know why the advertisement gets to me so much either.) Okay, maybe Dettol sees the need for people to maintain a clean bill of health in this very trying economic period where falling sick is the last thing anyone wants when all our jobs is hanging on a fine thread. But promoting Dettol products is far from getting people to stop leading a sedentary lifestyle and start practicing a healthy one. ARGH. I officially boycott Dettol, among a list of many other things i.e. MacDonald’s which is doing such a damn good job at promoting overpriced unhealthy food, or perhaps, Long John Silver which downsized their portion of chicken and fries to one meant for really tiny, weeny eaters, it’s insulting. This information is accurate as of 26th February 2009, 11:23 pm, anyway.
On another totally different note, I’m wondering, does God really exist?
Today, I pitched the idea of going clubbing to my mum. I answered every of her doubt with as much acumen as I could master, my tone firm and reassuring. I know my guy friends all worry for me when I say I’d would love to go and experience it first hand, so I’m pretty sure they’d generously volunteer to accompany me. When I told my mum I’d be under their constant surveillance and protection, she simply couldn’t see my reasoning. I think my dad’s rubbed off his sentiments that ‘boys’ is a taboo word onto her, so much so anything I do that is as much as intertwined with BOYS receive the wrong sort of attention. Unsurprisingly, the conversation ended with no head, no tail. She’s doubtful, so she says, “Ask your dad.” Awesome.
Tuition today went –Fine-. The grading system’s pretty simple actually; it’s only one of the few: fine, bad, exasperating, murderous. So I guess I should be happy? Actually, my tutee’s not that bad, she’s a smart girl, she’s just so damn easily distracted and unfocused, I’m at my end’s wits about how I can help her stay committed to learning for a mere one hour half, if at all. Man, the past couple of months tutoring her has really helped me honed my patience, not to mention it has helped a great deal in killing millions of brain cells as well. Pray my brain cells recharge and repair and rejuvenate and reproduce, fast.
I went to meet R for dinner today at Simei. Yes, it spells nostalgia. We walked into KFC and the same smell present there since 6 years ago immediately hit me hard, and the whole cache of memories rushed into my head like a broken dam. Woah. Hackneyed as it might sound, everything seemed like it happened just yesterday. In retrospect, the whole bunch of us was so young then. And I vividly remember the pounding in my head, at least a good 5 years back, whenever L so much as turned to look in my direction. Those were the days, weren’t it? Young and impressionable, when it seemed like my friends was the very basis of my existence. Hilarious.
And so we chatted over dinner at BK (while we ate, R’s dip was this mixed mayo with chilli sauce which turned out to be this pretty nauseating orangey cream paste, on first look anyway, which he says tastes good. What’s special about it was the fact that he mentioned KH was actually the one he learned it from, well, talk about the people I’d never forget, KH would be at the top man! Come back soon to visit this tiny island where you know all the good food, and fantastic friends are okay!) about “matured” stuff actually, about the future, about ambitions, about life really. Perhaps because I was brooding over how badly I would do for my A level results, so he wanted me to see there was more to life than just results alone. I guess it was a sweet gesture of him to steer our conversation in that direction, maybe he did it unwittingly, but still, it was comforting, in some warped sense. To actually try to perceive how there is so much more to see, to experience, to live, to relive. R also asked me about the worst case scenario, what if I did so badly, I couldn’t qualify for local U, neither could I see myself going overseas, then what?
It’s quite distressing actually if he puts it that way. Like your whole world would come to a standstill, if you so much as didn’t do well for you’re A levels. It’s weird how society is so damn practical that it’s able to imbue in every single youth the importance of one’s academia. Dammit. But then again, it’s nice to know that I’ll have people there for me who are willing to loan me a shoulder so my tears can soil their shirt, to loan me a listening ear so I can hurt it with all my ranting, to loan me their precious time so I can throw whatever princess tempers I might have bottled inside of me after I witness what’s possibly the most anxiety-stricken period of my life. Thank you! (=
Though if you guys know me well enough, you would have guessed I would very much rather confine myself to a week of isolation under the pretext of being quarantined due to an ailment as common as the common cold. It sucks to disappoint the people who care about me, who have so much confidence in me that in their eyes, my failing any tests/exams is inconceivable; when in actual fact I’ve failed sufficient times to make me numb to that horrid, empty feeling that makes my cheeks go warm (especially when I peep over my shoulder to find my genius classmates obtaining perfect scores, and my Chem teacher likes to reward their good work with cute little stickers that seem to scream out at me when I stare at them, “LOSER!.” Tell me I’m hallucinating). I bet I can say all this and people will still go,”Bahh, what a liar.” Talk about disappointment. So really, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep away from people I would hate to break the dismaying news to, like “I’m so sorry but the genius you see in me from all my stupid mugging, that’s merely an oasis that lasted a couple of years longer than it should in the past”. Unfortunately, I can’t hide from people like my grandma. Mostly because she knows my home number by heart and if there’s any place to put myself under isolation, it would be Home. I’m doubtful, but do you think I can feign a sore throat so I don’t have to speak to anyone?
It’s pretty random. But have you watched the ubiquitous (sickening) Dettol advertisements on TV these past few months? I hate it for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it occurs so damn often and what with advertising EVERY SINGLE ONE of their products, from hand sanitizers, to floor cleaners, to bath foams, to shampoos, YEAH. Soon they’ll have funny dettol tasting products that you can ingest. Secondly, they LOVE to highlight and emphasize and stress and moan about how important it is to live in an absurdly clean environment with absolutely no germs and bacteria and fungi and what other harmful substances there are co-existing with human beings on planet earth. I mean, get real. Being so super duper clean might not necessarily be a good thing right? Oh c’mon, it’s just gonna bring down people’s immune systems and in future, the doctors will be the ones laughing their way to the (often not-in-service) cash deposit machines while the common people continue to cut coupons on the latest Dettol product offers. The irony. (Goodness. I don’t know why the advertisement gets to me so much either.) Okay, maybe Dettol sees the need for people to maintain a clean bill of health in this very trying economic period where falling sick is the last thing anyone wants when all our jobs is hanging on a fine thread. But promoting Dettol products is far from getting people to stop leading a sedentary lifestyle and start practicing a healthy one. ARGH. I officially boycott Dettol, among a list of many other things i.e. MacDonald’s which is doing such a damn good job at promoting overpriced unhealthy food, or perhaps, Long John Silver which downsized their portion of chicken and fries to one meant for really tiny, weeny eaters, it’s insulting. This information is accurate as of 26th February 2009, 11:23 pm, anyway.
On another totally different note, I’m wondering, does God really exist?
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