my face in it. So much for final yearbook.
A big wave of goodbye,
turn around and
Its just SPM.
Its just SPM.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
HAPPY
One of my favourite pasttimes: looking through my photo albums. My brain does not have the capacity to hold every piece of memory so its a bit like giving a body to each one of them. When I flip through them and come across photos of me doing cringe-inducing poses I thought I never did before, they kind of speak for themselves:
Yes, it really did happen. And yes, you really did do THAT (THAT open to non-sexual interpretation. Please la).
This entry juts out awkwardly from the previous posts drenched in standard spm complains and post-school woes.
But honestly, I can't possibly write three emo posts in a row now, can I?
We need some sunshine here.
Malacca. I was 5. He was 8. I could easily passed off as a little boy with that cap, if it were not for the fact that I sangat suka main masak-masak. But then again, I used to decapitate my only Barbie doll. Maybe I was confused.
I like my smirk here. :)
I also stumbled upon this:
.jpg)
BAHAHA.
I was 8. I grew chubby. No one else grew chubby with me. :(
That smirk...still persisted.
We don't take family portraits like we used to anymore.
Now, why on earth should I be embarassed about my baby photos? *smirk*
Chemistry was sound today,
Ida.
Yes, it really did happen. And yes, you really did do THAT (THAT open to non-sexual interpretation. Please la).
This entry juts out awkwardly from the previous posts drenched in standard spm complains and post-school woes.
But honestly, I can't possibly write three emo posts in a row now, can I?
We need some sunshine here.
Malacca. I was 5. He was 8. I could easily passed off as a little boy with that cap, if it were not for the fact that I sangat suka main masak-masak. But then again, I used to decapitate my only Barbie doll. Maybe I was confused.
I like my smirk here. :)
I also stumbled upon this:
.jpg)
BAHAHA.
I was 8. I grew chubby. No one else grew chubby with me. :(
That smirk...still persisted.
We don't take family portraits like we used to anymore.
Now, why on earth should I be embarassed about my baby photos? *smirk*
Chemistry was sound today,
Ida.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Catatonic.
It is 12.09am, Wednesday at this moment. Completed another round of addmath and history exercises (with major flip-to-last-page-to-copy-answers cheating for history). In 6 hours time, I will be in school for 5 periods of biology and physics each. As much as I wish I can stay at home, I know what is best for me.
Sleep. Not coming anytime soon. Hence, the late night muses.
My laptop is making dog whistling noises. It is incessant and annoying. Shut up.
There are approximately two weeks of school left before SPM. In these two weeks, the form 5 classes will never achieve full attendances. Form 5 students are sparse among the mass of form 4s already nearing the end of their final exams. Exam stress is on an all-time high. And it is sad to note that it leaves no space for nostalgia and reminiscence.
This isn't how I picture the last month being a uniform-wearing government school student would be. This is a bit too mellow, too scattered and lacking a secure, knotted conclusion. Graduation? What graduation?
There is no climactic goodbye. You just don't come to class.
As I am preparing to sit for the final public exam, it got me pondering: I have had 14 years of education so far. That amounts to about 50 exams fretted over and sat. That also amounts to 50 chances for me to test what 14 years of education have given me. Also, 14 years of conscious learning, observing, arguing and discovering the workings of this world (14 because I don't think I can remember anything before I entered kindergarten. It always puzzles me why memory is only born several years later after one's physical birth.).
So what have I learned?
As a kid, I learnt that babies are not made from a kiss. I learnt that you won't die if you swallow bubblegums. I learnt to dance, to play and to run and scrap my knees.
Later on, I learnt to read the newspaper. I learnt that the world can be as beautiful as it is ugly. I learnt of unfairness and injustice. I learnt that society loves to hate.
Even later on, I learnt to argue. I learnt that sarcasm is as much a wicked language device as it is an expression about all that is unsatisfactory. I learnt to worry.
More recently, I can finally understand why ignorance really is bliss. With knowledge, comes the burden of knowing. I am at a point where my parents' conversations are no longer foreign to me, where I understand the furrows of their brows and where peace suddenly feels genuinely precious. I am staggered by how heavy all these matters are. I am even scared by how much I am a part of the workings of this world.
I have grown more cautious and lost as I begin to see the necessity of other perspectives. Everything that I believe in currently resembles a cheese. I can't bear to look at all those holes. Gaping and unanswered. I missed the me who stood firm about my opinions. I was stubborn and all too refusing to back down even in a losing argument. "Because I said so." What happened to that? Nothing is sure now. Nothing.
I am knowing too much and too fast before I am ready to accept.
I left ignorance in the dust and am tackling optimism with trepidation. Cynicism is all too addictive when all have not been in favour of me.
In the face of so much information and news which beget doubts, can i still see the sliver of hope lingering somewhere behind all that is loud and profane?
And the firefly flickers.
Sleep. Not coming anytime soon. Hence, the late night muses.
My laptop is making dog whistling noises. It is incessant and annoying. Shut up.
There are approximately two weeks of school left before SPM. In these two weeks, the form 5 classes will never achieve full attendances. Form 5 students are sparse among the mass of form 4s already nearing the end of their final exams. Exam stress is on an all-time high. And it is sad to note that it leaves no space for nostalgia and reminiscence.
This isn't how I picture the last month being a uniform-wearing government school student would be. This is a bit too mellow, too scattered and lacking a secure, knotted conclusion. Graduation? What graduation?
There is no climactic goodbye. You just don't come to class.
As I am preparing to sit for the final public exam, it got me pondering: I have had 14 years of education so far. That amounts to about 50 exams fretted over and sat. That also amounts to 50 chances for me to test what 14 years of education have given me. Also, 14 years of conscious learning, observing, arguing and discovering the workings of this world (14 because I don't think I can remember anything before I entered kindergarten. It always puzzles me why memory is only born several years later after one's physical birth.).
So what have I learned?
As a kid, I learnt that babies are not made from a kiss. I learnt that you won't die if you swallow bubblegums. I learnt to dance, to play and to run and scrap my knees.
Later on, I learnt to read the newspaper. I learnt that the world can be as beautiful as it is ugly. I learnt of unfairness and injustice. I learnt that society loves to hate.
Even later on, I learnt to argue. I learnt that sarcasm is as much a wicked language device as it is an expression about all that is unsatisfactory. I learnt to worry.
More recently, I can finally understand why ignorance really is bliss. With knowledge, comes the burden of knowing. I am at a point where my parents' conversations are no longer foreign to me, where I understand the furrows of their brows and where peace suddenly feels genuinely precious. I am staggered by how heavy all these matters are. I am even scared by how much I am a part of the workings of this world.
I have grown more cautious and lost as I begin to see the necessity of other perspectives. Everything that I believe in currently resembles a cheese. I can't bear to look at all those holes. Gaping and unanswered. I missed the me who stood firm about my opinions. I was stubborn and all too refusing to back down even in a losing argument. "Because I said so." What happened to that? Nothing is sure now. Nothing.
I am knowing too much and too fast before I am ready to accept.
I left ignorance in the dust and am tackling optimism with trepidation. Cynicism is all too addictive when all have not been in favour of me.
In the face of so much information and news which beget doubts, can i still see the sliver of hope lingering somewhere behind all that is loud and profane?
And the firefly flickers.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Out of Caprice
I know I said that I would be MIA until december, but Kay was right when she mentioned about the irony of blogging: I get the urge to blog at very unadvisable times. I have spent the afternoon studying biology and doing additional mathematics papers. Fact is, I have been doing add math practices as dutifully as I follow my chinese drama series (which by the way, is getting more kanchiong with every episode).
October is a very mellow month. Everyone and everything is prepping me for SPM. Its like life is slowly extracting certain activities from my schedule, grabbing me by the shoulders and settling me in front of the desk, saying: "There you go. I cleared yours days for you. You no longer have reasons not to focus on your books."
My last two years up till September had always been filled with tasks. I had very...substantive things to do and worry about. The activities, the debates and high school drama (which is pleasantly lacking this year)...They were all so solid.
Solid things are easier to unpack.
Now, I have ample of time for thoughts which had never bothered me so much before as compared to this moment.
Unsolid things:
1) I am wondering, again, of what I am good at. I consider myself sufficiently smart (meaning, smart enough to know not to talk to strangers la) and have always been contented with my performance, academic-wise. The last exams, however, hit me a little bit harder in the head. You see, I have outstanding friends. I reckon these friends are of a higher intellectual order. If this is evolution, I must be the ape.
Am I getting a little bit too comfortable with the knowledge that I will never be the best? I am actually starting to feel a bit mad. I feel like I am being clumped into the 'stupid' group because smart people know that they should choose the smart questions to do in exams. But no, I am stupid because I always choose the stupid questions. When you said that 'the less smart people always end up with a smarter partner', even though it was not directed to me, I felt very insulted because if marks are anything to go by, mine was no better than his.
I won't complain about it. I now train myself to choose smart questions, just because you are too arrogant to understand that I am good at those stupid questions. And if you had not already form some congenital yardstick about what is smart and what is stupid, you would realise that those stupid questions were never stupid in the first place.
2) I have lost all zest to argue about my belief and my stand about life. I don't know if this is just a ripple effect from exam doomgloom, but I feel safer to keep my ideas to myself. I know you pride yourself in being diametrically opposed to me (come to think of it, the white elephant was probably born from this constant bickering and non-agreeing.) so you might be a bit peeved by this. I have come to a point where I really don't mind what people think of me anymore. If it brings me no more harm than a misunderstood impression of me, its okay.
I really like superficial conversations now. That or just let me be a sounding board. These shoulders can't handle anything remotely intellectual as of this post.
3) There are many things which you can only come to terms with only when it has passed. I was jealous of you. For a very long time. In that span of time, if you had asked me if I were jealous of you, I would have denied it straight out because I myself was not convinced that I could commit such a despicable sin. You seemed to have it all, and I was always behind you. People knew you, but they knew me through you. Then, to me, it looked like you could ask for the world and people would gladly hand it to you on a silver platter. I was jealous to the extent that I wished I had your problems. People cared so much for you. Yet, I could see why you were so loved and I was so easily forgettable.
The problem I had was not jealousy in itself, but that you, of all people, were the last person I should be jealous of. Needless to say, I didn't like myself a lot.
I can let it out now because it is over. Long over. I should have blogged about it much earlier, but I didn't have the reflective solitude of a rainy afternoon to remind me to.
I stopped when I realised you were one of the few who remembered me when I thought I was forgettable.
October is a very mellow month. Everyone and everything is prepping me for SPM. Its like life is slowly extracting certain activities from my schedule, grabbing me by the shoulders and settling me in front of the desk, saying: "There you go. I cleared yours days for you. You no longer have reasons not to focus on your books."
My last two years up till September had always been filled with tasks. I had very...substantive things to do and worry about. The activities, the debates and high school drama (which is pleasantly lacking this year)...They were all so solid.
Solid things are easier to unpack.
Now, I have ample of time for thoughts which had never bothered me so much before as compared to this moment.
Unsolid things:
1) I am wondering, again, of what I am good at. I consider myself sufficiently smart (meaning, smart enough to know not to talk to strangers la) and have always been contented with my performance, academic-wise. The last exams, however, hit me a little bit harder in the head. You see, I have outstanding friends. I reckon these friends are of a higher intellectual order. If this is evolution, I must be the ape.
Am I getting a little bit too comfortable with the knowledge that I will never be the best? I am actually starting to feel a bit mad. I feel like I am being clumped into the 'stupid' group because smart people know that they should choose the smart questions to do in exams. But no, I am stupid because I always choose the stupid questions. When you said that 'the less smart people always end up with a smarter partner', even though it was not directed to me, I felt very insulted because if marks are anything to go by, mine was no better than his.
I won't complain about it. I now train myself to choose smart questions, just because you are too arrogant to understand that I am good at those stupid questions. And if you had not already form some congenital yardstick about what is smart and what is stupid, you would realise that those stupid questions were never stupid in the first place.
2) I have lost all zest to argue about my belief and my stand about life. I don't know if this is just a ripple effect from exam doomgloom, but I feel safer to keep my ideas to myself. I know you pride yourself in being diametrically opposed to me (come to think of it, the white elephant was probably born from this constant bickering and non-agreeing.) so you might be a bit peeved by this. I have come to a point where I really don't mind what people think of me anymore. If it brings me no more harm than a misunderstood impression of me, its okay.
I really like superficial conversations now. That or just let me be a sounding board. These shoulders can't handle anything remotely intellectual as of this post.
3) There are many things which you can only come to terms with only when it has passed. I was jealous of you. For a very long time. In that span of time, if you had asked me if I were jealous of you, I would have denied it straight out because I myself was not convinced that I could commit such a despicable sin. You seemed to have it all, and I was always behind you. People knew you, but they knew me through you. Then, to me, it looked like you could ask for the world and people would gladly hand it to you on a silver platter. I was jealous to the extent that I wished I had your problems. People cared so much for you. Yet, I could see why you were so loved and I was so easily forgettable.
The problem I had was not jealousy in itself, but that you, of all people, were the last person I should be jealous of. Needless to say, I didn't like myself a lot.
I can let it out now because it is over. Long over. I should have blogged about it much earlier, but I didn't have the reflective solitude of a rainy afternoon to remind me to.
I stopped when I realised you were one of the few who remembered me when I thought I was forgettable.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Good Day.
Night: Observed a very funny conversation between two guys probably gone cuckoo over uni assignments.
Morning: Inspiring Kee comic strip = Today is another good day.
Proper posts in December.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Phrase.
For these coming few months we will still be in the same school, in the same city and in the same state. Yet these few months we will be coccooned with studies.
When we are finally liberated from SPM and have the chance to spend time together again, everyone will leave in a matter of weeks after the exam.
I can't help seeing the pathetic irony.
*Might not blog about birthday. For pictures, head to facebook.
When we are finally liberated from SPM and have the chance to spend time together again, everyone will leave in a matter of weeks after the exam.
I can't help seeing the pathetic irony.
*Might not blog about birthday. For pictures, head to facebook.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Of Memory Cards and Korean Drama Failures.
26th of September, 2009.
If this were a standard english essay, I would start off by telling you that it was a sunny day and the lazy afternoon came alive the moment Melody and Chonfan graced my study room with their presence. And if this were my mock EST paper, it would tell you that such a sunny day has UV radiation dangerous enough to give you eye surface burns. However, being neither, I will tell you that the day was a day of excess. There were many stories shared. Laughter was abound. Chinese jiwang music blared unabashedly from my pink laptop. Photos of the same subjects were taken in quantity and speed worthy of a series of GIF files. Later, we were in the car driven at increasing velocity such that if we ever collided with any other object, our inertia was enough to yank our heads off our bodies and send them flying.
Such hedonistic days will be far and in between soon enough.
Creeping in, I see unwelcomed exam papers, freakish nights made better only by text messages and submission to academic fears.
Of course there are other things. Still, its easier because you are busier right?
There are many aspects about being friends with these two which suck.
For one, it means appearing bigger beside them in photos. WHYYOUSOTHINYOUCF??@!!
And when you attempt to scare/threaten/bully them,
They scare/threaten/bully you back.
But luckily, nothing harder than a pillow. :)
It also means risking your life letting them drive you around like a madman.
Besides that,
Having a friend who photographs too much means there will be too many pictures of both of us...
And too little pictures of herself. (until I have to dig up past photos just to balance the ratio of cf's photos and hers.)
It also means you get forced to make poses for her photographic pleasure. And if you don't, mati lah kamu.
So this makes a pretty dysfunctional combination:
One who doesn't know the difference between mammals and mammary.
One who doesn't blog when she should and blogs when she shouldn't.
And the other who never fails to contradict herself. Case in point:
1) Snapping away with a Sony dslr while doning a Nikon t-shirt.
2) Hypothesising our deaths by 2012 and yet at the same time, laying out her seven-year plan for architecture (2016, I thought we would be dead already hm?) and snagging a boyfriend who will whisk her to Japan at least once a year.
From top: Chonfan's owl, my owl and Mel's owl.
In conclusion: Different owls but owls nonetheless, no?
三只不同的猫头鹰， 最终还是猫头鹰。：）
If this were a standard english essay, I would start off by telling you that it was a sunny day and the lazy afternoon came alive the moment Melody and Chonfan graced my study room with their presence. And if this were my mock EST paper, it would tell you that such a sunny day has UV radiation dangerous enough to give you eye surface burns. However, being neither, I will tell you that the day was a day of excess. There were many stories shared. Laughter was abound. Chinese jiwang music blared unabashedly from my pink laptop. Photos of the same subjects were taken in quantity and speed worthy of a series of GIF files. Later, we were in the car driven at increasing velocity such that if we ever collided with any other object, our inertia was enough to yank our heads off our bodies and send them flying.
Such hedonistic days will be far and in between soon enough.
Creeping in, I see unwelcomed exam papers, freakish nights made better only by text messages and submission to academic fears.
Of course there are other things. Still, its easier because you are busier right?
There are many aspects about being friends with these two which suck.
For one, it means appearing bigger beside them in photos. WHYYOUSOTHINYOUCF??@!!
And when you attempt to scare/threaten/bully them,
They scare/threaten/bully you back.
But luckily, nothing harder than a pillow. :)
It also means risking your life letting them drive you around like a madman.
Besides that,
Having a friend who photographs too much means there will be too many pictures of both of us...
And too little pictures of herself. (until I have to dig up past photos just to balance the ratio of cf's photos and hers.)
It also means you get forced to make poses for her photographic pleasure. And if you don't, mati lah kamu.
So this makes a pretty dysfunctional combination:
One who doesn't know the difference between mammals and mammary.
One who doesn't blog when she should and blogs when she shouldn't.
And the other who never fails to contradict herself. Case in point:
1) Snapping away with a Sony dslr while doning a Nikon t-shirt.
2) Hypothesising our deaths by 2012 and yet at the same time, laying out her seven-year plan for architecture (2016, I thought we would be dead already hm?) and snagging a boyfriend who will whisk her to Japan at least once a year.
From top: Chonfan's owl, my owl and Mel's owl.
In conclusion: Different owls but owls nonetheless, no?
三只不同的猫头鹰， 最终还是猫头鹰。：）
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Stupidity at its Cutest.
JALANSONGNOTSTUTONGJALANSONGNOTSTUTONGJALANSONGNOTSTUTONG.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high.
I remember the singing more.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Writing stupid again.
I SEE TEMPORARY LIGHT.
If it were not for Rachel who texted me on a sleepy saturday morning to update my blog, I would now be rereading my Cafe Kichijouji De and Death Note mangas in a corner until I am thoroughly japanesed in and out. But no, I am writing a post instead with Super Junior's Sorry Sorry playing in the background. I am bopping my head up and down like those little dog toys with the severed heads. I know, K-pop, I hear you cringe? Yes, K-pop isn't exactly musical artistry, but it is catchy, almost always has hot guys, makes me write this happy post you are looking at. I LIKE RAARRRR.
If it were not for Rachel who texted me on a sleepy saturday morning to update my blog, I would now be rereading my Cafe Kichijouji De and Death Note mangas in a corner until I am thoroughly japanesed in and out. But no, I am writing a post instead with Super Junior's Sorry Sorry playing in the background. I am bopping my head up and down like those little dog toys with the severed heads. I know, K-pop, I hear you cringe? Yes, K-pop isn't exactly musical artistry, but it is catchy, almost always has hot guys, makes me write this happy post you are looking at. I LIKE RAARRRR.
I just returned from add math tuition. I have not even bathed. Evidently, Raya break is not giving me the chance to forget about SPM. Sigh. Then there is the mock exam that was supposed to end on Friday, but due to the special holiday, our last two papers are pushed to the 28th of September. A day after my birthday. I don't want to rant. So don't let me go there.
Okay I am not there. :)
Fireworks illuminated the skies last night. Raya wishes were sent. As the smoky trajectories of the last fireworks disappeared, it really felt like the exams were over and the secondary school student's mantle was taken down. In other words, very emo.
But say it aint so, say it aint so, masih ada exam lagi. Mana eh sai ah ne=(
I looked through my previous posts. Most of them are...not retarded anymore. Now, I am writing stupid again. It feels good to write stupid. With alot of smiley faces. :) And no big words, except for trajectories. :) :) :) :)
To make it easier for my brain to sort out what I need to write first and what I don't need to not write first, I present you this entry in note form! If this were my History paper, MY MARKS WOULD BE CUT BY HALF OH YES:)
1) Holiday does not mean I can abandon my books. I have already done some biology. I must keep it up. Someone pat me on the head for effort well put!
2) Non-academic Reading. Almost nil, in terms of storybooks. I am eyeing Ooku and A Personal Matter. Eyeing=Cannot buy or read until december:( Reading magazines leisurely...like Times. Times=Not very leisurely.
3) Darren Shan: Cirque Du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant Movie Trailer.
Before Twilight, Vampire Diaries and the ever increasing number of vampire-centric fiction the book industry is churning out like mating bunnies, there was Darren Shan. :D
Note: Darren Shan vampires don't sparkle.
Julie and Sean can probably still remember how obsessed I was with the Darren Shan 12-book series back when I was 13. Instant hook. (Sean called me a cult for reading books about vampires. Fast forward 4 years later, Sean likes Twilight. You hypocrite you!!!!) The books are targeted at the preteen group so I am not quite sure if I still have the same rabid adoration for them as I did back then if I were to read them again now. Still, for all it was worth, the 13 year old me thought it was one damn awesome preteen vampire book. Even my brother, who never reads, read the series right till the 7th book.
When I heard they were making a movie out of it, I was very thrilled. Now, not so. Movie adaptations usually pale in comparison with the books. I don't want to go out of the cineplex with the same thought I always have with book-to-screen movies:
"The book was way better than the movie."
As for the trailer: The beginning is altered. The middle also altered. Larten Crepsley does NOT look like how I picture him to be but I can take it. Darren looks pretty cute. Steve not as wild as he is supposed to be. Who the heck is the girl he kissed at the end? WTF, THAT IS NOT DEBBIE. I don't know how to react to the trailer. I also don't know how am I going to watch the movie since its slated for release two to three weeks before SPM. :(
You know, I wish I had a DS buddy to rant with. :( Damnit why you steal every spotlight wan, Edward Cullen?! :(
4)
My doze of chinese drama: 春去春又回。
5) Pokemon Red Returns!
I slipped in the batteries. I turned it on.
And then the familiar Pokemon tune began.
Music to my ears.
The game picked up where I left off almost 7 years ago, with 8 badges in Indigo Plateau.
Ida hit restart.
Ida hit restart.
Ida is going back to her childhood days of bulbasaurs and rare candies.
Ida: very happy.
6) Do not talk to me about childbirth. Capiche?
A very sick person read medical articles about childbirth for God knows why. And then, said very sick person filled me in on all the gruesome and painful details of childbirth. Ida squirmed alot. Ida to very sick person: What is the matter with you, you sick cat?!
7) When words fail me...
I need to draw, regardless of whether I am spectasticular at it.
8) "Ke Zheng"
My dad has officially added chicken essence into my diet. It tastes like diluted marmite. Chicken in a bottle is supposed to be smart. Eating chicken in a bottle is supposed to make me smarter too. Chicken in a bottle, care to share your essence?
9) Turning 17.
Missed one. Catching up with some. Turning 17 with all.
Will be worth telling in a more sincere and meaningful post :)
10) This post ends happily.
Decided against bathing at 12.22 am,
Ida.
Ida: very happy.
6) Do not talk to me about childbirth. Capiche?
A very sick person read medical articles about childbirth for God knows why. And then, said very sick person filled me in on all the gruesome and painful details of childbirth. Ida squirmed alot. Ida to very sick person: What is the matter with you, you sick cat?!
7) When words fail me...
I need to draw, regardless of whether I am spectasticular at it.
8) "Ke Zheng"
My dad has officially added chicken essence into my diet. It tastes like diluted marmite. Chicken in a bottle is supposed to be smart. Eating chicken in a bottle is supposed to make me smarter too. Chicken in a bottle, care to share your essence?
9) Turning 17.
Missed one. Catching up with some. Turning 17 with all.
Will be worth telling in a more sincere and meaningful post :)
10) This post ends happily.
Decided against bathing at 12.22 am,
Ida.
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