:: Wallpaper ::

:: Friday, November 23, 2001 ::

Ooh boy, O's finally over!! After labouring for like 4 years of my life for some bloody exam, it's finally over. And suddenly, I feel totally at a loss of what to die. Kinda like you lose your sense of direction thingy. And I tell ya, the feeling's totally dead. I walked out of the exam hall feeling totally devoid of emotion, indifferent to everything. The end of Os juz feels like another day, no joy in it, wonder why. You'd think that after so many years, you'd feel something. Instead, all you feel is that, it could have been better.

Looking back, it's like a blank in my life, a blind spot in my eye, a lapse in my memory. Nothing worth remembering, nothing worth recalling. I was somebody and yet nobody at the same time. I made a ripple, but it was overshadowed by bigger ripples. I had a chance to carve my name in and leave a mark, but I fell out of it at the last minute to accompany some friend. In the end, it amounts to nothing, 4 years down the drain.

Looking back I admit I do regret some, and curse myself for not having done better, not having been someone respectable, but I daresay I did enough. I was chairman of some obscure club, but although no one would believe me, I did do something other than being at the right place at the right time, I brought some company into the life of a lonely man. Besides, I also did what others would not have done in the first place, I was there when the club called for me.

Then there was the PSL. It was so different from what I expected. It was a total letdown. I remember what happened when I was Sec 1, what I felt for my PSLs then. But now, when I finally take the place of what I admired, I feel that I did not do enough. Granted that I won the hearts of the Sec 1s over another PSL, and barged my way into a class that was never mine, but years down the road, who will remember? I will juz be another fuzzy face in their memories, juz like my PSLs now are, in my mind.

Oh yes, there was also the BIG Service Project. The one I hoped so hard to make a difference. I dunno whether I made it or not though, and I never will find out. The kids seem to be affected slightly, the way they played with me, the name they'd call me, but when they left that night, I felt almost nothing. Sad a bit, perhaps, and somewhat empty, but nothing else. And when I visited them again a week later, it was almost as if nothing had happened. Depressing ain't it?

Yeah, looking back and reflecting on my 4 years of secondary life, there is nothing but sad memories that greatly overshadow the nice ones. But they say we should always take comfort that at least there was a glimmer or two of such beautiful memories, and I guess mine was the many comic experiences and antics that followed as I tried to find myself and where I stood in this world. Memories that I look back and smile a painful, bittersweet smile.

Not to forget of coz, there's also the people that have made a difference in my life, especially Xuan. The one who made me feel that perhaps, after all I have done, there was a slight bit of something to gain back after all. The one that made me feel that by standing there and doing nothing, I could still provide some form of comfort to someone. And the one who made me feel useful in this world again.

My time is running out, and I guess I'll have to end my reflections of secondary school life here. No matter what happened, it was still a lovely place, and had some lovely people, and some lovely experiences. Mayhap one day I'll really look back, and find that there is more to remember than this.

Memories are beautiful treasures that we keep inside us, locked tightly in our minds, to be glanced at every now and then, to cheer us up and make us smile.


:: Sam 12:18 AM [+] ::
...

Man, people nowadays sure know how to do business. In fact, they are so damn good at it that even thought I know the truth, I still allow myself to be tricked.

Yesterday, I finally noticed a mail for me that probably has been sitting there for ages. It's from poetry.com, and they decided that I would be one of the 33 poets featured on their 'Sound of Poetry' thingy. Impressive as it may sound, somebody pointed out that they probably send it to more than 33 people. Quite true, after all, they hafta have a backup, juz in case people like me don't send the authorization slip back in time.

Nevertheless, me being me, I can't help but feel flattered, just like how it was when they told me my poem was chosen for their book. End up every new entry there also seem to be chosen for the book. It's no longer special, it's common, just a money making gimmick. I wish they wouldn't play on a person's emotion though, especially one as easily swayed as me. Sigh...

Oh well, as my dad used to say, there's no such thing as a free meal. They get the money, I get a little sense of achievement, so there. Off to prepare for tomorrow's Lit papers.


:: Sam 5:09 PM [+] ::
...

Haha, today is a beautiful day!! The workers are drilling noisily outside, making one hell of a racket while I'm trying to study. There is a slight wind on this cool morning, making my cold worse. Isn't life wonderful? But seriously, grieviences aside, it really is a beautiful day. It's one of those days where you feel like you're on top of the world, and nothing can get you down today! Haven't had that feeling in long time.

Oh yar, I heard something funny last night. I was told I was the closes thing alive to a manga character, haha! It might be a compliment that is a teeny weeny bit way too off the truth, but really, my eyes don't cover half my face, they're not that big! Besides, I don't always fall over everything or get whacked up by girls, I'm just a bit blur mah... Then again, someone else did say that I was very cartoon not too long ago. Oh no, looks like my dad's prophecy is coming true! Beware son, if you watch too much cartoons, you will end up being one yourself.

*Bam* *Kerplunk* *Splat* Ouch *Toink* *Pow* *Splash* Yeow

Amazing, I'm still alive!! Maybe I'm really a cartoon character after all!! Okay, okay, this is stupid. I'm just getting cranky after too much studying. *What study? Heehee.* The weather must be getting into me. Real cheekiness on the part of the fairies. See? There's one irritating pixie in front of me now, fluttering about, spreading all those we- *Ah-choo* weir- *Ah-choo* Urm, where was I? Oh, right, weird pixie dust. Bad pixie! Hah, now it's trying to act cute and pretend to be sorry. Hmph, I'm not so soft-hearted. *whine* Alright alright, I give in, don't cry ok? I can't stand it. *Ah-chooooooo!!* Why you little- *Ah-choo* Grr... Pixies, never trust 'em.

Please excuse the writer of this blog, he is currently off to chase the pixie that was disturbing him. *Plonk* Ouch, that must have hurt. Poor guy slip and fell. Oh well, a strange ending for a strange post anyways, perhaps it's just a dream. Hope he wakes up soon! *wink*


:: Sam 7:06 PM [+] ::
...

Shooting Star

No one seems to think too much of me here
and they're glad to tell it to my face
And they're right I'm not supposed to be here
I'm completely out of place
Somehow there has got to be a reason
even as I try to think it through
There's a bolt from the blue

And I see a shooting star (And I see a star)
Set apart from all the rest
While the other stars are standing still (ooh)
He's on a quest
Every night this shooting star (Every night this star)
Darts across the twilight sky
Cause he knows he doesn't quite fit in (ooh)
and he's longing to know why, why (longing to know why)

I feel so much better when it's night-time
That's when I can sort of disappear
When the sun is set and it's the right time
for pretending I'm not here
Sometimes I just stare into the heavens
Wondering if the answer is inside
That's when I see the light

Of myself that shooting star
On his way to who know's where (On his way to who know's where)
He's a one like all the stars (ooh)
But he outshines out there (shines out there)
And the solitary star (solitary star)
Is an awful lot like me (ooh)
On an endless search through time and space
Far a place that won't seem wrong (place that won't seem wrong)

If we both hang on for long enough
we both somehow are strong enough
We'll find out were we belong

Every night this shooting star (every night this star)
darts across the twilight sky
Cause he knows he doesn't quit fit in (ooh)
and he's longing to know why (why)


:: Sam 2:20 AM [+] ::
...

Do you know what it feels like to be forgotten? Do be left in the dark, unnoticed, unseen? No, you do not. You are a winner, basking in the limelight and glory of victory, surrounded by many supporters. You do not know what it feels like. Perhaps, once or twice when you have failed, you felt it for a moment, but that is fleeting, and soon you are back on the path of victory, for failure drives you. What it is like to be gifted.

I am the loser, lost in the dark, a fading memory. I have tasted bitter defeat a thousand times over, so much so that it becomes a fear that drives me, until I do not even dare to compete anymore, for fear of losing. I am but a shadow of what you are, ignored by everyone, and only noticed when you are alone, needing company, when you finally turn to your side and see for once that I've been there all along. But you do not care.

Last night, I broke my nail. I have a habit of growing my nail to see how long it will be before it breaks and I have to cut it off. Life is like that. I slowly, painstakingly build up my defenses, brick by brick, piece by piece, and yet, in one split of a second, it all comes tumbling down, and I have to rebuild it once more. Anger, hatred, fear and loneliness rushed in through my walls. For that split second, I lost control, and how good it felt, to be able to release for once. But almost immediately, I'm back again. Years of practice has yielded very good control of myself.

But tell me, do you know how it feels to have so much rage inside of you fighting to come out, but instead of being released like you usually do, it is controlled, pacified, and slowly dissipated? Anger is hot, and it burns to have so much inside, unable to break free. I suffer every second of it, until all has left. You will not understand.

Perhaps I am too naive to believe that one day you will realise what I have done, to believe that one day you will learn from it all. Perhaps I am too innocent to think that there is such a thing as nobility, or that what I do is noble, for kindness is a weakness that is taken advantage of.

I guess I back off too much, I yield too much to others, lost in a dream where humans are peaceful, understanding, and caring. Lost in a world where people love the world and seek to save it, in a world where I would fit in. I still believe, that one day, my dreams will become reality. I am too stupid, but I do not care, I will hope for change, and hope, is all there is left. Reality is harsh, and I accept that.

Perhaps one day I will learn, and grow stronger. Perhaps one day I will decide to change, and become the very thing I loathe. When that day comes, then I have lost all hope in this world.

There is a spark of hope within the heart of every human being, but mine is a raging bonfire which I pray does not consume me.



:: Sam 9:42 PM [+] ::
...

Had a rather interesting experience today... We were discussing about some people we were annoyed with over dinner. While the others were sharing their thoughts, I couldn't help but feel amused. Here I am, hearing about how somebody hated one guy because of his attitude and stuff like that, and I remember not too long ago about how the guy he's complaining about said something similar. Guess the feeling's mutual.

But seriously, don't you think it's comical when one guys says, "I don't think telling him straight in the face will work, I think I've tried before," while the other guy has told me before, "Why does he always burst out like that? What did I do?" It's a bit ironic isn't it?

I've got lotsa spastic friends, and to be honest, as much as I'm irritated with them, I'm more able to laugh it off. Irritating people tend to make a fool out of themselves. If you stop being angry for awhile and look from another perspective, you just might get it. Not saying I don't get angry, in fact, I get it angry all the time, but hey, at least I make an effort not to.

Another thing that always happens is how one person is complaining about another, without realising how similar they are. Happens to me all the time. I get so worked up over somebody, then suddenly I realise, hey, I'm like that too!! But me being me, hard-headed and stubborn, I still take time to apologise, if I ever do that is...

One of my favourite quotes from Shakespeare is from a story I can't remember the name of. It's basically about this two twins, one boy one gal, who are separated by shipwreck, but reunited again later by a weird twist of events, including lovers that fell for the wrong twin, really funny I tell you.

Niwaez, back to the quote, it goes something like this, "But among them, the fool was the wisest of all, for only he was paid to make a fool out of himself, while the others did it for free." Kayz, I admit it's not all that accurate, but that's the gist of it. The world is one big comedy for us to laugh and be laugh at, and everyone is a fool. For all I know, somebody's laughing at me right now! Haha!

Laughter is the best medicine, use it often and share it with everyone.


:: Sam 7:01 AM [+] ::
...

I feel weird. There is this tingling sensation that makes my hands weak and my heart ache. My stomach feels hollow. Perhaps this is what they call fear, or nervousness. I can't tell the difference anyway, one is merely the manifestation of the other. I was never afraid of exams, they can't hurt me. But I am now.

It is surprising though, after all these years of training and preparation, steeling myself against the feel of such emotions, I'd think I'd almost make it, and then I feel it again. The feeling is hidden, yet pervasive. I can feel it slowly seeping across my iron grip of emotions, yet everytime I try to grab it and hurl it out, to crush it into pieces, it dissapears, and hides again, waiting for the moment that I loosen my grip. Guess humans will always be humans, full of emotions, no matter how hard you try not to be.

I think too much perhaps, and link too many consequences to these exams. I can't help it. Whichever JC I go to, there are the good and the bad, and the fear that I will not fit in, the fear of not being accepted, and the many other worries that teens nowadays have. At one end I am myself, indifferent of the world, and caring only for me, and on the other end, I belong to everybody, concerned with what people think of me. I am lost within myself.

I am not ready yet. I feel young, too young. It is sad to think that I'll only enjoy 3 days as a 16 year old, before I have to move on. I never thought of it before, but I'm seldom allowed to be my age. Perhaps that is why I lag behind sometimes, unable to catch up with myself, remaining a childish boy. Come to think of it, I'll always be a kid at heart, full of insecurities at times, without a care for the world at others.

There, I feel better now. Maybe if I do some soul-searching, I will eventually find myself and who I want to be, and one day, I will touch the sky again, kiss the stars once more.

I dun wanna grow old... I wanna be young forever...


:: Sam 9:15 PM [+] ::
...

Phew, this few days have been very tiring, and it's not the least bit because of Os, but more because I've been playing way too hard.To be honest, I dun really care how well I do, as long as I win my $2000 dollars bet. Come to think of it, no matter how well I do, I'm juz a grain of sand on the beach, together with many others who are scoring well, but if I fail everything, I'd make history by being the pioneer in a pioneer school to do so. *knocks head on table to clear out evil thoughts*

Anyway, even as I type this, I'm dozing off on my keyboard, suffering hangover from last night's comic marathon. Aah, my lifeblood, comics. One of my favourite past times, it's strange how one can be so engrossed in picture stories that have a cliche storyline, graphic violence, low quality nudities and no color. Kinda reminds me of one of those romance novels that gals (no offense) like to read so much, all a fairytale, yet so enticing. Maybe it has to do with the black, white, grey aspect of it. (haha)

Perhaps its the way they show us reality, harsh and cruel, yet true, like in X by Clamp, or perhaps its the way the blind us from the world, into a fairytale land that we always dream of, like Love Hina by Ken Akamutsu. Whichever it is, I cannot escape from the fact that imagination and daydreaming are a very real part of our life, and that I need it, perhaps more so than anyone, to survive. It is one thing to be wake up every morning and be reminded that you are living in an all boys environment, and another thing altogether to be following the life story of a guy who is living in the exact opposite. (Hey, I'm but a teenage boy, right?)

Whatever the case, no matter how silly comics may be to some, I have only one thing to say. (and I believe most comic lovers out there will agree with me) Comics Rock!! It is not just an escape, a past time, but a place where dreams come true, where you can live your wildest fantasies (no bad thoughts please), and where there's an endless supply of cute girls!! Amen and god bless.

-Nightbreeze, loyal follower and preacher of comics, and a blessing to comic stores around.

Fairytales are beautiful, that's what life's worth living for, to someday make your own and share it with the world.


:: Sam 2:48 AM [+] ::
...

Here's some food for thought:

RULE #1 for being a good online 'journaller':
Rant about your pathetic little life. (It might be the same as 10000 people over the internet, but, who cares, life sucks!)
RULE #2:
Talk mysteriously about people. But when questioned in real life, tell them that you have no idea what they're talking about. (this is a great method in making people feel like idiots.)
RULE #3:
The more guestbook entries, the better. (shameless advertising always works)
RULE #4:
When people critisize you, pout, (or in this case, write an angsty poem) and tell them that they will never understand, and it's your life, anyway!
RULE #5:
Learn how to create dramatic effects to spice up otherwise ordinary and mundane entries about your life.

Thanks to Rachel for offering such interesting advice, haha.

NB: This was taken from her without permission and belongs wholely to her. No other copies may be reproduced unless you wish to risk suffering the possible consequences like I am about to...


:: Sam 1:50 AM [+] ::
...

Today, I was told something I dislike a lot. Somebody was afraid I did not have enough time. I dunno why, but I get totally pissed off whenever somebody tells me they have no time, or that they're busy. Seriously, most of the time, they're wrong, they do have time, only that they can't be bothered to find it. That's what irks me the most.

There's 24 hours a day, or 1440 minutes, or 86400 seconds. If you can count at all, you'd notice that there's quite a lot of time there, enough to do all your trivial stuff and some big important stuff. Yet, I don't get it why somebody can be too busy to reply a simple email, or do a little laundry by themselves, when all they have to spare from that 1440 minutes is a small fraction of it. Instead, they've got time to watch TV, read a book, play soccer, talk on the phone with friends, and a numerous list of things that consume much more time than that.

It seems that the more sophisticated the world gets, the less time there is to do anything. With each new invention, more time is sucked up. Gameboy, Playstation, Vaio, Palmtop, Handphone, TV, you name it. Guess if the world goes on like this, hopefully one day all those suckers out there would eventually run out of time to eat and sleep and die off.

Time flies like an arrow, but you choose when and where to fire your arrows.


:: Sam 1:25 AM [+] ::
...

Wonder what it would be like to be revelled as the God of Hearts? No, I am not wondering because I am going to become one, nor is it because I wish to be one, but merely, because of the foolishness of what is happening.

I've always played Hearts as selfishly as I can, for Hearts is no partner game, but a one man game. As such, I've always played to get 0 or 26 points, seeing no reason in preventing one from shooting the moon. After all, I'm not the only one who's getting the points. The only time when I screw up is when I try to shoot the moon. Definitely not easy with a player of skill level as low as me.

Strangely, out of the blue, people who have been condemning my style of playing have suddenly decided to adopt it. Finally their natural selfish human instinct has kicked in over their weird set of moral values, or, they have been big fat hypocrites for a long time. I can't decide, but no doubt they will when they finally read this.

Hmm, maybe I should be a bit more liberal and less cynical about this, especially after they named the three computers in Hearts after me... But seriously? To me it's all one big joke, waiting for someone to burst out laughing. I hope I get the last laugh.


:: Sam 3:19 AM [+] ::
...

Ah, what it is to be reborn. I've emerged, once again from the cocoon of change, as something new. From this cocoon, I have viewed the world in black, white, and grey.

The world has changed, with the many events happening, like the Bin Laden situation. Yet, many people see things in only one color, black or white. George Bush sees only the blackness of Bin Laden's deed, while for Laden, all there is to him is whiteness, or rather, pureness in his act.

I wonder what would happen if one of them ever saw the whole thing from the other's point of view, and I wonder, will they ever considered the third color, grey. How easily matters like these would dissolve then, if the world would but see as such.

But I am nobody, new in the world, and only seeing things from three colors. Perhaps there are more colors, the red, the blue, the yellow, the green. Perhaps there is no black, no white, but merely shades of grey. I do not know, I am still too young to see it all, but one thing's for sure, nothing is as simple as black and white.


:: Sam 8:32 PM [+] ::
...

Why must the day end and the light fade? I've lost my angel again. Perhaps I haven't been trying hard enough, perhaps she cares not for me anymore. Does it matter? It is over once more. The heavens have closed the door on me. She is not gone, merely lost. Visible, but like a ghost, a specter, beyond my reach. And I, the mortal, forsaken once more, left in darkness, waiting for day.

And yet in darkness wonders do occur, for in the darkness I become the shadow, the nightbreeze, and in the dreams of another, I am the ferryman. With this comes the power, the power of guidance and inspiration. Just as I had once needed the guidance and inspiration of an angel, I now provide it to another. I am free from the cages that bound me so strongly in the day.

Thus, the metamorphosis. With the day comes the angel, and with the night comes the shadow. It is fleeting, yes, but so is life, nothing given is to keep, but merely lent temporarily until the time to reclaim it.

Aye, were I to be looked for in the lost and found, one would find that I was both, lost and found.


:: Sam 7:11 PM [+] ::
...