Today was a good day. I was happy.
Today was a good day. It was a good start to a new week.
Today was a good day. I did not take any caffeine.
Today was a good day. I stayed awake for every lesson and did not feel drowsy.
Today was a good day. I started the day with emaths.
Today was a good day. Emaths was pretty fun, I like my teacher.
Today was a good day. I failed my emaths. But I almost passed.
Today was a good day. Its cool to have an emaths teacher who loves theatre too.
Today was a good day. Being responsive with Jingwen during emaths was fun! :)
Today was a good day. Physics tutorial was pretty good!
Today was a good day. I understand the topic of Light :)
Today was a good day. I stayed awake for the whole physics lesson!
Today was a good day. We were not late for Double Chinese class.
Today was a good day. Chinese was fun too.
Today was a good day. I completed my essay in good time. It was ok.
Today was a good day. Laoshi thought CC (community centre) meant sissy.
Today was a good day. The class and laoshi had a good laugh.
Today was a good day. I keep saying community centre as community channel!
Today was a good day. I finally handed up my chinese file :) *proud*
Today was a good day. Recess was good.
Today was a good day. We laughed a lot during recess.
Today was a good day. Mrs Neo didn't come for lit!!!!!!
Today was a good day. We laughed like nuts during lit.
Today was a good day. Utterly disruptive during lit, but it was shiok!
Today was a good day. We had too many jokes. Yo Yo Yo You want some taco?
Today was a good day. I choked on water while laughing and spluttered.
Today was a good day. You want some taco BEEEEEETCH.
Today was a good day. I did not do any lit work.
Today was a good day. English was slow, but it was fine.
Today was a good day. CE lecture was so boring.
Today was a good day. But we had fun talking cock, and pissing teacher off.
Today was a good day. I get to work with Jingwen and Humairah for CE pt :)
Today was a good day. I bought frozen yoghurt for lunch.
Today was a good day. I ate frozen yoghurt through the entire chem lecture.
Today was a good day. I used my phone through the entire chem lecture.
Today was a good day. I am very sorry to chem teacher. I liked her lessons!
Today was a good day. Amaths remedial went well.
Today was a good day. I understand trigo quite perfectly!
Today was a good day. I completed all my trigo TYS questions.
Today was a good day. I feel quite hopeful for the upcoming test.
Today was a good day. I hope I pass and maybe an A?
Today was a good day. We had Cold Stone after school.
Today was a good day. I completed all my homework.
Today was a good day. Today was a good day.
Yes. Today was a good day. I am happy.

Very back-dated entry about class CIP. It was... well... ok.

----------------------

We did our class CIP at a hospice. It is quite interesting to be doing CIP there, knowing that CIP is commonly typified as an activity at an old folks home or orphanage or like-wise. Personally, I did none of my CIP hours at a hospice. Instead, I helped out at non-profit theatre companies as being passionate in theatrical arts, I enjoyed doing so. It was truly a very different experience. Though honestly, I would not say this experience has been a huge eye-opener for me, neither was it so enriching it "changed my life" whatsoever, but I feel it was a worthy experience and did make me think a little more about the elderly in the community.

The old folks home was nicely done up, offering a very cosy and homely atmosphere. We met the elderly folks upon our arrival at the home. They were mostly congregated in the main room; a couple looked chirpy to have our company, but most appeared rather grouchy and just laid back in their seats, resting. The old folks looked like any old folk you see around – face plagued with wrinkles, grey and sere their hair had become, hunched backs. They were just about any old folk you see in your neighbourhood, around void decks and community centres, except different. It seemed their limited life expectancy had brought a cloud of sadness over them; it was quite elusive, you could not quite put a finger on what, but they just seemed sad.

We performed a couple of under-rehearsed songs for them. The few enthusiastic ones clapped along and nodded encouragingly. It definitely helped boost our morale. Even a small smile from our audience helped to ease our embarrassment of our pathetic performance by a little. However, there were also those who continued to have a sullen look plastered on their faces. I mean, there aren't to blame, we were in a way merely disrupting their pace. Truly, thinking about it, there was not much we could do to help them in that short span of time, and indeed we did not do much.

Through this activity, I personally feel we did not exactly leave much of an impact on those old folks, much less a change. I guess for them, many other batches of students have came and went, and it does not change anything. Maybe that few moments of company might have cheered them up a little, might have eased their pain a little, might have brought a little light into their lives. Conversely, it might even have made them more upset – knowing youth has long left them; maybe we reminded them of their children, which they might not seen in a while? I do not know what impact our visit has brought to them; I will never know.

But this experience did arouse a sense of empathy in me. It pained my heart to see those old folks being left at the hospice. Perhaps their families really did not have the ability to care for them, and having them there was actually a good thing, but it was still sad to see the longing in the elderly's eyes to return home, to their families. I remember how gleefully an old man reacted when he was told his children were visiting that week end. It is saddening.

I guess this experience has taught me to be more aware and more caring towards the elderly in our community in general. Many a time we just dismiss them conveniently because of our busy schedules and fast-paced lives. It harshly reminded me of the numerous times I cancelled plans with my grandparents because I had a humungous pile of work, or I had to catch up with my friends, or I had a theatre production to catch, or merely selfishly wanted the time to myself.

So through this experience, I will say even though I did not help the elderly at the hospice greatly, they did help me instead by giving me some takeaway. It did serve as an epiphany to be more humane and more sensitive to the old folks in our society and to acknowledge their presence with care and concern. Also, very importantly, to treasure those around me more – both the old and young – and not to take anyone for granted.

The air is still. The house is still. She sits still. Very still. As though afraid any small action she makes will disrupt the unforgiving stillness of her surroundings. This stillness is rare. She is one who can barely keep still most of the time. For once, she is allowing the stillness to engulf her – prising her away from the hurried bustle of the buzzing world outside her window. She indulges in this stillness; it is one that was hard to come by.

The air is warm. She can feel beads of perspiration beginning to form on her forehead and at the nape of her neck. The rising humidity is getting to her, taunting her. She feels grimy. The CPU hums beside her. She stares blankly at the luminant screen before her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she realises, she is tired. Tiredness... it is something she is so used to, it seems negligible. She reaches for the cup of coffee beside her and takes a long sip. The fragrance of her espresso teases her olfactory glands, as the caffeine shoots through her system. She feels empowered.

The air is musty. There is something old about the house. Not its face value; it is barely two years old since it was rightly hers. She cannot place a finger on what, but it just seems decrepit. The winds of preoccupation in her work has allowed a thick coat of dust be blown to her, through the windows, into her house; to enshroud the happiness in her soul, in her heart. She feels burdened, just like her house. She looks around. It had been weeks since she last cleaned the bookshelves of the dirt which rested disgustingly on her prized literature works of Dickens and Shakespeare, all finely-pressed and neatly bounded within hard fabric covers.

The air is thin. She suffocates. She struggles to take in deep breaths, but with great difficulty. The deadlines and assignments she knows she has to fulfil and complete presses heavily on her mind. They seemingly slice her windpipe, reaping her of the ability of breathe. Work rests laboriously on her shoulders. She faces it stoically, though the strain is almost unbearable. She looks at the screen once again. The chunks of text swims around the page, as though unwilling to stay on, and her vision blurs. She looks at the keyboard. One letter, one box. It is too uniform. She detests uniformity.

Mindlessly, her fingers hit, ENTER. The page blanks out. Black. All she sees is black.

The air... The air is still, warm, musty and thin. She fights to breathe, she cannot.

Reading through my recent posts, I realise I am very repetitive when I write. Similarly, I am very repetitive when I speak too. Yes, I know. I am aware that I do. Interestingly, I do not really notice when I am in the process of writing the posts though. But it does strike me afterwards. It is so odd. I simply just like to repeat. It provides me this sense of security, somehow. Like a sense of reassurance. I am so neurotic this way. Then again, when things become too routine, I get bored. This does not complement with my short-attention-spanned nature. I am such a contradiction of myself.

--------

Reflexivity is a curse. It troubles the mind and renders one wretched, robbing you of the joy of innocent faith.

One step forward, three steps back. I hate how this works, but it is sort of a paradigm. Although Newton states "for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction", it is never so certainly an equal force returned. Not when you are talking about humans. Homosapiens, with emotions, thoughts, feelings and the birth-instinct to react. There is something about interpersonal relations. Building, and breaking, interpersonal bonds. One step forward, three steps back.

'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of: cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed

Although how can you know
Who you are till you know
What you want, which you don't?
So then which do you pick:
Where you're safe, out of sight,
And yourself, but where everything's wrong?
Or where everything's right
And you know that you'll never belong?

It is true. I do not know who I am and I definitely do not know what I want. You can say I am caught in a limbo, in a dilemma. Will I be happier off somewhere else doing something I am not truly content with, but comforted by the fact that no matter what I do, I surely will not falter? Or struggle to assimilate into a society, which not necessarily will welcome me with open arms, but in which I think (but am not certain) I will enjoy being a part of? This just drives back to the point which states I am wholly unclear on my aims and objectives and priorities. I mean, for sure I doubt I will survive in the professional world with my current standards. Yet I will possibly barely be able to keep afloat in the arts industry; it completely does not seem effortless to me, as it does to some. Perhaps I am really not cut out to dabble in those waters. The turbulent waves might just submerge me head first, downwards, immediately, devouring me entirely into a bottomless abyss with no escape. 

But if so, then where else should I head to? Show me the light please. Someone, guide me. I feel so lost and befuddled right now. I really do not enjoy this "journey of self discovery" thing; I do not like how things are so unclear and undefined. I feel I am the sort of person who is greatly insecure when unequipped with the knowledge of what the future holds. This mindless plunder is wearing me thin, and I am sick and tired and almost bored!

Here comes the point where I indulge in self-rant once again. School is burying me alive! It is a hellhole! Really. Well, it is not the building or place that I hate, and it is not the people – people are difficult to handle, but somehow you always know there is a way around it; even the hardest heart will eventually be moved. But it is the system! Yes, THE SYSTEM. I detest Singapore's education system thoroughly, and entirely. I dislike the competitiveness, the obsessiveness, the rigidness, of the system. Moreover, I cannot seem to conform appropriately and with ease to this particular system. I guess I am also not cut out to tackle head-on with other top brains in this heated battle-field. So apparently, it seems I dropped my sword, picked up a tiny shield and hid in the corner, trembling, ever since the START horn was first blown. Or maybe, I gallantly fought initially. But upon realisation of what truly lies on war-grounds did I hesitate and backtrack. 

Maybe it is due to the fact I am beginning to lose my competitive edge. Maybe I have already lost it long ago. Long ago when I was left far behind to scramble in the dirt and dust, as every one else sped off to snag the top place in this furious rat race. It is a race, a battle. There can only be this amount of champions. And so they say, at the end of the day, everyone is a winner. What a whole lot of bullcrap. In Singapore, if you are not the top of the top of the top of the top, the creme da le cream da le cream, you are nothing. Much less with the in flux of "foreign talent", please, no fight. They were born to slay giants!

What affects me more, is how I was not affected. For months, I was not affected. I did not care. I did not bother. I could not even bring myself to give a damn. I hate this fact. It bugs me. It is utterly disgusting. Embarrassingly disgusting. How I never seemed to have cared; to shamelessly dawdle even when I knew I had yards to catch up on; to run and shun adversity when I knew I had to kill to thrive. It is time to wake up. To live, you need to fight. I have learnt. I probably knew it all along, just that I did not care. And no one, and nothing, woke me. I was drowning in my own pool of grave delusions. I was falling haphazardly from my castle on a cloud and not even realising the unprecedented crash which awaited me. I was floating in my tiny bubble headed straight on for a clean tip needle.

I am ever waiting for a sudden epiphany to hit me; be it hard on the head or a gentle awakening. As said, actually, I do think I have already been struck by the arrow of revelation recently. I cannot quite place a finger when or how it occurred but I do sense I am more conscientious this semester, which is definitely a good thing. I am pretty certain there was an event, or a couple of events, that truly brought down the earthquake effect on me (though frustratingly, I cannot quite recall!). Whatever it is, I hope I am able to keep up with it momentum of working. Frankly, I am feeling really boggled down already, I feel so trapped. I do not like this suppression at all. But come on, I do not have a choice, do I?

Then again, perhaps one of the reasons I am suddenly propelled to work hard for the final exams is that, I know I cannot use the Arts as a safety net. I was actually considering it for as an option a couple of months back. But, no. It would not hold anyway. Now I tell myself, I must not be a Type A jump-and-a-net-will-appear risk-taker; it is far too risky. True, it has its advantages, being fearless, but in an uptight society like this, I think the motion of 'better safe than sorry' works more effectively. Honestly speaking, I do not know if I am a risk-taker or not. But after all that has been said, I am probably not. But nevertheless, as the song goes... Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game. Too late for second guessing, too late to go back to sleep. It's time to trust my instincts, close me eyes, and Leap! And leap, I shall.

It's time to try defying gravity, I think I'll try defying gravity, and you can't pull me down.

Once again, I haven't been writing much. I feel I have lost a little momentum in my studying lately. Ever since the recent wave of block tests blew over, I am slowly returning to my initial tardy ways. Not a good sigh. Honestly, I am becoming pretty scared for the end-of-years exams. I know I have to do well. I hate exams; they always make the entire learning environment so stressful, extinguishing any flames of interest and joy for learning and discovering. If there was no exams, I won't mind going to school, and learning new things every day. But then again, with that said, without exams students would probably lose the will and propelling force to get their arses down to mug. Pros and Cons.

-----------------------

There is life after school. I understand that everything we are doing now is merely a stepping stone to higher heights, but it truly is so tiring. Everything is so mundane and seemingly irrelevant. But it's Singapore, it's the 21st century. The paper, the certificate, the qualifications – its everything! I thoroughly detest being caught in this tiresome rat race, where if you aren't the top, you are as good as nothing. Survival of the fittest once again. I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what to do, what I want. I don't know what is good for me.

There is life after school. Is there? There must be. There is something about perceiving the adult world through rosy glasses of youth. Something that shows you a new outlook, one that not necessarily be good, nor bad. For one, it definitely is an eye opener. Of course, counting that what you see doesn't shatter your glasses first. I am looking at the world through warped vision; distorted, contorted. To a certain extent, my faith in Mankind is dwindling. It is a dark world out there. It may not be good to know off now, but I want to know. To feed one's curiosity at the cost of robbing one of the simple joy of innocent faith. It renders one wretched.

Don't you know what's out there in the world?
Someone has to shield you from the world.

Princes wait there in the world, it's true.
Princes, yes, but wolves and humans, too.

Stay with me,
The world is dark and wild.
Stay a child while you can be a child.

I've been pretty happy lately, I think. Had meals with a couple of friends. Caught a movie. The rise of the planet of the apes. Watched theatre. Charged. Went Into the woods, trice. Did FOH. Helped out at Jonathan Lim's On This Emerald Hill. Ate more food. Strings concert. Played well, had a great time on stage. Talked crap. Laughed loudly. I had fun. I am happy. I am happy. I am happy...

Today was a good day. I was happy.
Today was a good day. It was a good start to a new week.
Today was a good day. I did not take any caffeine.
Today was a good day. I stayed awake for every lesson and did not feel drowsy.
Today was a good day. I started the day with emaths.
Today was a good day. Emaths was pretty fun, I like my teacher.
Today was a good day. I failed my emaths. But I almost passed.
Today was a good day. Its cool to have an emaths teacher who loves theatre too.
Today was a good day. Being responsive with Jingwen during emaths was fun! :)
Today was a good day. Physics tutorial was pretty good!
Today was a good day. I understand the topic of Light :)
Today was a good day. I stayed awake for the whole physics lesson!
Today was a good day. We were not late for Double Chinese class.
Today was a good day. Chinese was fun too.
Today was a good day. I completed my essay in good time. It was ok.
Today was a good day. Laoshi thought CC (community centre) meant sissy.
Today was a good day. The class and laoshi had a good laugh.
Today was a good day. I keep saying community centre as community channel!
Today was a good day. I finally handed up my chinese file :) *proud*
Today was a good day. Recess was good.
Today was a good day. We laughed a lot during recess.
Today was a good day. Mrs Neo didn't come for lit!!!!!!
Today was a good day. We laughed like nuts during lit.
Today was a good day. Utterly disruptive during lit, but it was shiok!
Today was a good day. We had too many jokes. Yo Yo Yo You want some taco?
Today was a good day. I choked on water while laughing and spluttered.
Today was a good day. You want some taco BEEEEEETCH.
Today was a good day. I did not do any lit work.
Today was a good day. English was slow, but it was fine.
Today was a good day. CE lecture was so boring.
Today was a good day. But we had fun talking cock, and pissing teacher off.
Today was a good day. I get to work with Jingwen and Humairah for CE pt :)
Today was a good day. I bought frozen yoghurt for lunch.
Today was a good day. I ate frozen yoghurt through the entire chem lecture.
Today was a good day. I used my phone through the entire chem lecture.
Today was a good day. I am very sorry to chem teacher. I liked her lessons!
Today was a good day. Amaths remedial went well.
Today was a good day. I understand trigo quite perfectly!
Today was a good day. I completed all my trigo TYS questions.
Today was a good day. I feel quite hopeful for the upcoming test.
Today was a good day. I hope I pass and maybe an A?
Today was a good day. We had Cold Stone after school.
Today was a good day. I completed all my homework.
Today was a good day. Today was a good day.
Yes. Today was a good day. I am happy.

Very back-dated entry about class CIP. It was... well... ok.

----------------------

We did our class CIP at a hospice. It is quite interesting to be doing CIP there, knowing that CIP is commonly typified as an activity at an old folks home or orphanage or like-wise. Personally, I did none of my CIP hours at a hospice. Instead, I helped out at non-profit theatre companies as being passionate in theatrical arts, I enjoyed doing so. It was truly a very different experience. Though honestly, I would not say this experience has been a huge eye-opener for me, neither was it so enriching it "changed my life" whatsoever, but I feel it was a worthy experience and did make me think a little more about the elderly in the community.

The old folks home was nicely done up, offering a very cosy and homely atmosphere. We met the elderly folks upon our arrival at the home. They were mostly congregated in the main room; a couple looked chirpy to have our company, but most appeared rather grouchy and just laid back in their seats, resting. The old folks looked like any old folk you see around – face plagued with wrinkles, grey and sere their hair had become, hunched backs. They were just about any old folk you see in your neighbourhood, around void decks and community centres, except different. It seemed their limited life expectancy had brought a cloud of sadness over them; it was quite elusive, you could not quite put a finger on what, but they just seemed sad.

We performed a couple of under-rehearsed songs for them. The few enthusiastic ones clapped along and nodded encouragingly. It definitely helped boost our morale. Even a small smile from our audience helped to ease our embarrassment of our pathetic performance by a little. However, there were also those who continued to have a sullen look plastered on their faces. I mean, there aren't to blame, we were in a way merely disrupting their pace. Truly, thinking about it, there was not much we could do to help them in that short span of time, and indeed we did not do much.

Through this activity, I personally feel we did not exactly leave much of an impact on those old folks, much less a change. I guess for them, many other batches of students have came and went, and it does not change anything. Maybe that few moments of company might have cheered them up a little, might have eased their pain a little, might have brought a little light into their lives. Conversely, it might even have made them more upset – knowing youth has long left them; maybe we reminded them of their children, which they might not seen in a while? I do not know what impact our visit has brought to them; I will never know.

But this experience did arouse a sense of empathy in me. It pained my heart to see those old folks being left at the hospice. Perhaps their families really did not have the ability to care for them, and having them there was actually a good thing, but it was still sad to see the longing in the elderly's eyes to return home, to their families. I remember how gleefully an old man reacted when he was told his children were visiting that week end. It is saddening.

I guess this experience has taught me to be more aware and more caring towards the elderly in our community in general. Many a time we just dismiss them conveniently because of our busy schedules and fast-paced lives. It harshly reminded me of the numerous times I cancelled plans with my grandparents because I had a humungous pile of work, or I had to catch up with my friends, or I had a theatre production to catch, or merely selfishly wanted the time to myself.

So through this experience, I will say even though I did not help the elderly at the hospice greatly, they did help me instead by giving me some takeaway. It did serve as an epiphany to be more humane and more sensitive to the old folks in our society and to acknowledge their presence with care and concern. Also, very importantly, to treasure those around me more – both the old and young – and not to take anyone for granted.

The air is still. The house is still. She sits still. Very still. As though afraid any small action she makes will disrupt the unforgiving stillness of her surroundings. This stillness is rare. She is one who can barely keep still most of the time. For once, she is allowing the stillness to engulf her – prising her away from the hurried bustle of the buzzing world outside her window. She indulges in this stillness; it is one that was hard to come by.

The air is warm. She can feel beads of perspiration beginning to form on her forehead and at the nape of her neck. The rising humidity is getting to her, taunting her. She feels grimy. The CPU hums beside her. She stares blankly at the luminant screen before her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she realises, she is tired. Tiredness... it is something she is so used to, it seems negligible. She reaches for the cup of coffee beside her and takes a long sip. The fragrance of her espresso teases her olfactory glands, as the caffeine shoots through her system. She feels empowered.

The air is musty. There is something old about the house. Not its face value; it is barely two years old since it was rightly hers. She cannot place a finger on what, but it just seems decrepit. The winds of preoccupation in her work has allowed a thick coat of dust be blown to her, through the windows, into her house; to enshroud the happiness in her soul, in her heart. She feels burdened, just like her house. She looks around. It had been weeks since she last cleaned the bookshelves of the dirt which rested disgustingly on her prized literature works of Dickens and Shakespeare, all finely-pressed and neatly bounded within hard fabric covers.

The air is thin. She suffocates. She struggles to take in deep breaths, but with great difficulty. The deadlines and assignments she knows she has to fulfil and complete presses heavily on her mind. They seemingly slice her windpipe, reaping her of the ability of breathe. Work rests laboriously on her shoulders. She faces it stoically, though the strain is almost unbearable. She looks at the screen once again. The chunks of text swims around the page, as though unwilling to stay on, and her vision blurs. She looks at the keyboard. One letter, one box. It is too uniform. She detests uniformity.

Mindlessly, her fingers hit, ENTER. The page blanks out. Black. All she sees is black.

The air... The air is still, warm, musty and thin. She fights to breathe, she cannot.

Reading through my recent posts, I realise I am very repetitive when I write. Similarly, I am very repetitive when I speak too. Yes, I know. I am aware that I do. Interestingly, I do not really notice when I am in the process of writing the posts though. But it does strike me afterwards. It is so odd. I simply just like to repeat. It provides me this sense of security, somehow. Like a sense of reassurance. I am so neurotic this way. Then again, when things become too routine, I get bored. This does not complement with my short-attention-spanned nature. I am such a contradiction of myself.

--------

Reflexivity is a curse. It troubles the mind and renders one wretched, robbing you of the joy of innocent faith.

One step forward, three steps back. I hate how this works, but it is sort of a paradigm. Although Newton states "for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction", it is never so certainly an equal force returned. Not when you are talking about humans. Homosapiens, with emotions, thoughts, feelings and the birth-instinct to react. There is something about interpersonal relations. Building, and breaking, interpersonal bonds. One step forward, three steps back.

'Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of: cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed

Although how can you know
Who you are till you know
What you want, which you don't?
So then which do you pick:
Where you're safe, out of sight,
And yourself, but where everything's wrong?
Or where everything's right
And you know that you'll never belong?

It is true. I do not know who I am and I definitely do not know what I want. You can say I am caught in a limbo, in a dilemma. Will I be happier off somewhere else doing something I am not truly content with, but comforted by the fact that no matter what I do, I surely will not falter? Or struggle to assimilate into a society, which not necessarily will welcome me with open arms, but in which I think (but am not certain) I will enjoy being a part of? This just drives back to the point which states I am wholly unclear on my aims and objectives and priorities. I mean, for sure I doubt I will survive in the professional world with my current standards. Yet I will possibly barely be able to keep afloat in the arts industry; it completely does not seem effortless to me, as it does to some. Perhaps I am really not cut out to dabble in those waters. The turbulent waves might just submerge me head first, downwards, immediately, devouring me entirely into a bottomless abyss with no escape. 

But if so, then where else should I head to? Show me the light please. Someone, guide me. I feel so lost and befuddled right now. I really do not enjoy this "journey of self discovery" thing; I do not like how things are so unclear and undefined. I feel I am the sort of person who is greatly insecure when unequipped with the knowledge of what the future holds. This mindless plunder is wearing me thin, and I am sick and tired and almost bored!

Here comes the point where I indulge in self-rant once again. School is burying me alive! It is a hellhole! Really. Well, it is not the building or place that I hate, and it is not the people – people are difficult to handle, but somehow you always know there is a way around it; even the hardest heart will eventually be moved. But it is the system! Yes, THE SYSTEM. I detest Singapore's education system thoroughly, and entirely. I dislike the competitiveness, the obsessiveness, the rigidness, of the system. Moreover, I cannot seem to conform appropriately and with ease to this particular system. I guess I am also not cut out to tackle head-on with other top brains in this heated battle-field. So apparently, it seems I dropped my sword, picked up a tiny shield and hid in the corner, trembling, ever since the START horn was first blown. Or maybe, I gallantly fought initially. But upon realisation of what truly lies on war-grounds did I hesitate and backtrack. 

Maybe it is due to the fact I am beginning to lose my competitive edge. Maybe I have already lost it long ago. Long ago when I was left far behind to scramble in the dirt and dust, as every one else sped off to snag the top place in this furious rat race. It is a race, a battle. There can only be this amount of champions. And so they say, at the end of the day, everyone is a winner. What a whole lot of bullcrap. In Singapore, if you are not the top of the top of the top of the top, the creme da le cream da le cream, you are nothing. Much less with the in flux of "foreign talent", please, no fight. They were born to slay giants!

What affects me more, is how I was not affected. For months, I was not affected. I did not care. I did not bother. I could not even bring myself to give a damn. I hate this fact. It bugs me. It is utterly disgusting. Embarrassingly disgusting. How I never seemed to have cared; to shamelessly dawdle even when I knew I had yards to catch up on; to run and shun adversity when I knew I had to kill to thrive. It is time to wake up. To live, you need to fight. I have learnt. I probably knew it all along, just that I did not care. And no one, and nothing, woke me. I was drowning in my own pool of grave delusions. I was falling haphazardly from my castle on a cloud and not even realising the unprecedented crash which awaited me. I was floating in my tiny bubble headed straight on for a clean tip needle.

I am ever waiting for a sudden epiphany to hit me; be it hard on the head or a gentle awakening. As said, actually, I do think I have already been struck by the arrow of revelation recently. I cannot quite place a finger when or how it occurred but I do sense I am more conscientious this semester, which is definitely a good thing. I am pretty certain there was an event, or a couple of events, that truly brought down the earthquake effect on me (though frustratingly, I cannot quite recall!). Whatever it is, I hope I am able to keep up with it momentum of working. Frankly, I am feeling really boggled down already, I feel so trapped. I do not like this suppression at all. But come on, I do not have a choice, do I?

Then again, perhaps one of the reasons I am suddenly propelled to work hard for the final exams is that, I know I cannot use the Arts as a safety net. I was actually considering it for as an option a couple of months back. But, no. It would not hold anyway. Now I tell myself, I must not be a Type A jump-and-a-net-will-appear risk-taker; it is far too risky. True, it has its advantages, being fearless, but in an uptight society like this, I think the motion of 'better safe than sorry' works more effectively. Honestly speaking, I do not know if I am a risk-taker or not. But after all that has been said, I am probably not. But nevertheless, as the song goes... Something has changed within me, something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game. Too late for second guessing, too late to go back to sleep. It's time to trust my instincts, close me eyes, and Leap! And leap, I shall.

It's time to try defying gravity, I think I'll try defying gravity, and you can't pull me down.

Once again, I haven't been writing much. I feel I have lost a little momentum in my studying lately. Ever since the recent wave of block tests blew over, I am slowly returning to my initial tardy ways. Not a good sigh. Honestly, I am becoming pretty scared for the end-of-years exams. I know I have to do well. I hate exams; they always make the entire learning environment so stressful, extinguishing any flames of interest and joy for learning and discovering. If there was no exams, I won't mind going to school, and learning new things every day. But then again, with that said, without exams students would probably lose the will and propelling force to get their arses down to mug. Pros and Cons.

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There is life after school. I understand that everything we are doing now is merely a stepping stone to higher heights, but it truly is so tiring. Everything is so mundane and seemingly irrelevant. But it's Singapore, it's the 21st century. The paper, the certificate, the qualifications – its everything! I thoroughly detest being caught in this tiresome rat race, where if you aren't the top, you are as good as nothing. Survival of the fittest once again. I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what to do, what I want. I don't know what is good for me.

There is life after school. Is there? There must be. There is something about perceiving the adult world through rosy glasses of youth. Something that shows you a new outlook, one that not necessarily be good, nor bad. For one, it definitely is an eye opener. Of course, counting that what you see doesn't shatter your glasses first. I am looking at the world through warped vision; distorted, contorted. To a certain extent, my faith in Mankind is dwindling. It is a dark world out there. It may not be good to know off now, but I want to know. To feed one's curiosity at the cost of robbing one of the simple joy of innocent faith. It renders one wretched.

Don't you know what's out there in the world?
Someone has to shield you from the world.

Princes wait there in the world, it's true.
Princes, yes, but wolves and humans, too.

Stay with me,
The world is dark and wild.
Stay a child while you can be a child.

I've been pretty happy lately, I think. Had meals with a couple of friends. Caught a movie. The rise of the planet of the apes. Watched theatre. Charged. Went Into the woods, trice. Did FOH. Helped out at Jonathan Lim's On This Emerald Hill. Ate more food. Strings concert. Played well, had a great time on stage. Talked crap. Laughed loudly. I had fun. I am happy. I am happy. I am happy...