Stopping to Think...

Drive

2010-09-13T08:04:00.001-07:00

Drive

I couldn't take it for awhile. The last few weeks of school in term 3 have been harrowing at best. For the past few days, I nursed the wounds on my confidence for awhile, patiently taking in all its whinings and recounting the stories of each scratch and bruise that has made its unfortunate mark only recently. For the week, there was no escaping the obligatory mulling over my missing the mark on a disappointing number of school-based tests. For the past week, I plowed through hour by pointless hour of self-indulgent nothing. For the past week, I just... collapsed.

It is a heartbreak that I often try to hide when I don't keep to my own expectations. The collective hours that I've put into my subject combination find translating themselves into results a tall order. Questing and experimentation for the right writing conventions only leads me nowhere fast, and more often I find myself tracing annoyingly familiar circles. I have had no breakthrough, and have nary a clue to guide me along. Misery invited yet more horrifying guests to the glum party, each test result a mocking reminder that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.

So for the past week, I just collapsed. Never staying asleep across midnights, I wake up to lunch - which comprises of a questionably fresh leftover breakfast - and sleep way past what the internet preaches to be my liver's most productive hours. The hours in between produce nothing that I'd boast of, and my BMI vehemently protests at an evil diet and lifestyle. To no avail. It's hard to get out of a self-pitying cycle.

School's return strangely acted as the perfect panacea for the misery and negativity. I woke up fresher this morning than on any afternoon the week before, and felt oddly energised with each tutorial throughout the day. The sorry plight of United Nations' Security Council never sounded more confoundingly exciting, the endless troubles it runs into gaining my total interest for an hour. Economics arrived as the usual engaging self that I'd been missing for so long. But the magic ingredient I missed most in this refreshing shot in the arm? Friends.

Friends are my fuel for motivation when it comes to schoolwork - no daunting question is made easier through picking the brains of friends regardless of whether they gave a grasp of the elusive answer or not. The latter almost always results in massive brainstorming that though leads to nowhere academically, lightens my burdens and reminds me that I am not alone in my struggles. The waves and smiles picked up along the way when I commute between classrooms do their part in lifting my moods, as wrinkles of frowns realign themselves into more productive smiles.

So if you are a friend that is reading this, then I thank you for being a friend. Thank you for being my 垃圾车. Thank you for being a ray of sunshine. Thank you for lending me stand under your umbrella. Thank you for being the best definition of good intention. Thank you for being my drive.

Who do you have to thank for being your drive?

Falling

2010-09-13T08:03:00.001-07:00

Falling

My heart has been a helpless victim of wanderlust, leaving my focus in want at the slightest of distractions. Lessons bore me even more than they normally do, and I cannot find an anchor for my concentration however hard I try. Voices drone on in my background, and I vaguely feel my pupil dilating, conscious sight receding, as I'm oddly absorbed by six strange friends that my imagination recently animated. A, G, D, B and the E twins had my attention in rapture, as they dance in chord after familiar chord in an endless, calming loop.

I guess writing is good for the soul after all.

I sat down eagerly, raising my footstool, tilting my chair slightly to the right the way I prefer. My eyes couldn't make out much of the dimly lit crowd, but what I could see was a rather packed house. The shuffling of feet soon faded, and all that's left was the pure, comfortable silence that emitted all around. Kevin stepped out, and - with the particularly confident smile he often saves for true performances - greeted us as we stood. The crowd showed its anticipation, and I could hear a few specific cries for some familiar voices in the audience.

We took our seat, and drew in the silence once again. And as the familiar, comforting pair of hands were raised, so were ours. We took a breath, as our fingers took their place on each accustomed string. All I saw then were those hands that hung in the air, and as they fell I fell into my section, and fell into my ensemble.

The six-stringed stories we had practiced so hard for started to take form, gaining colour, shape and almost space in the otherwise silent hall. I couldn't help but smile, and for the first time enjoyed the collective trance we fell into - It was the first time we put our trust into each other, leading and following when the notes allowed for it. The guitar felt no more distant than my fingers, no heavier than another limb. I loved every single moment.

It culminated into an eerie, yet comforting silence that we consciously maintained. Our held breaths waited for the very last echo to make its round within our guitars, leaving through the sound-hole and finally evaporating into the thin quiet. Kevin winked, and I knew we finally made it.

Who knew that it only takes less than a year to fall for a piece of wood?

Where I Belong

2010-08-09T07:41:00.001-07:00

Where I Belong

Out of the periphery of my room I hear familiar tunes sung in chorus, blasting from a television. My mind registers and recognizes each song that the crowd at the Padang is happily humming, screaming or more likely whispering along to. Occasionally the obligatory variation and mash-up invades on my half-complete memory of these songs, interrupting the record that I dust off every year in my head to remind myself of where I'm from. No, not my mother's womb, but the little red dot, the rojak of Southeast Asia, the socialist nation in disguise; Blink, and Singapore is already 45.

My nationalistic spirit lays dormant, deep down in my mind most of the year. Sure, the times when our table-tennis teams usurp China's comfortable recline on the worldwide throne or we are once again hailed as the most effecient economy of the world, that spirit gives a slight murmur, maybe a half-conscious smile, before rolling over and returning to its slumber.

While the TV continues a rhapsody of dramatic music to cue the entrance of our nation's finest in security and defence I am doing my patriotic part, making my way to the National Service portal which require the awkward utilisation of Internet Explorer. I deal with my inner geek and delve into the uncomfortably slow mode of exploring long enough to find my NSPortal password. It takes even longer following the outdated instructions to finally register my deferment for another year. All this while, my mind is focused on the arguable bleak future laid out for me in my blood - the male Singaporean I am is only a year away from the one of the world's few mandatory conscription programs. Despite the festive pride that should be raising our PSI to dangerously high levels rivlling what Indonesia can manage, my feelings are anything but. I restrain a sigh, reminding myself that a year and a half is peanuts to pay for the peace that our forefathers had cultivated for us. Peanuts, and not the Goh Chok Tong kind.

In my defence, I do feel certain feelings for dear Singapore. The Green City has been my safe abode for 17 years and counting. I have no complaints for the fact that our government has been dominated by the same party since its inception, neither do I mind the fact that chewing gum is frowned upon by the appropriate authorities. I find it hard to understand how people give in to the unnecessary urge to whine and exaggerate the teeniest bit of discontentment about how we now run the risk of being fined for $300 everytime rubbish ends up in the wrong place.

My version of common sense often steps in and reminds me what makes this nation great - I have been in the same room as a fellow Singaporean of another race, poking, stabbing and impaling fun at each others ethnicities with reckless abandon, each of us laughing at our own rumoured inadequacies. I am able to go to school each day without the fear that the next car passing the road might contain a hitman with a horrendous aim. It beauty of increasing ERP and COE prices never seem to occure to most, but I marvel at how our government is bringing us towards a greener community where we don't indulge selfishly in what limited amounts of energy our planet can provide in the short term.

So yes, I do, in my own warped and twisted way, have my own form of Singaporean pride somewhere. It lays dormant, deep down in my mind most of the year. But it makes its appearances when necessary, kindly acting as the aperture for my perception that points me to what matters. It reminds me that Singapore is where I belong.

After signing my allegiance to my country once again, I log off and move on to yet another Singaporean expectation. Focus, I told myself - You still have General Paper 2 to complete.

The Rain

2010-07-25T07:05:00.001-07:00

The Rain

I had to keep with my patience. The process was menial - I poured, patted and shaped as according to instruction. I competed with the sun throughout the day, resisting each ray's urgings for me to take a break from toil, and also each one's tendency to remove the precious moisture from the sand. After all, that was all sandcastles were about - the right proportion of sand, water and pressure. Too much of any, and the painstakingly composed structure will crumble at your fingers. I had to work fast, though, as the clouds perched above, gazing down in dark fury, waiting to descend.

Penang became my home for a week, and its people my family. The initial barriers were there of course, but my patience paid off in waiting for them to fall bit by bit. The program was relentless in its activities. They were understandably a manifestation of the committee's intentions to fill our experience with equal parts wisdom and fellowship. However, being the social oddball I am, I have never understood the need for tasks and games twisted painfully out of shape simply for people to say hello. Time often makes for my favourite icebreaker.

The warmth of my newfound friends up North were every bit as intense as the unfortunately scorching weather we had most of the trip. Their eagerness was what made me tear down my reservations, making way for the much more appreciated friendships and relations. Daily surprises and revelations kept me engrossed in observation and watch; I learnt so much more about my group in my silence at first, and then through the countless directionless yet comforting conversations with them. Till the last day, I wished I had more time to continue enjoying and appreciating their presence in my life.

My group wasn't exactly outstanding in any aspect. A mish-mash of personalities, a rojak of psyches, a blend of attitudes - It was so amazing to see how all of us banded and complemented one another, differences synthesizing into a common gel. I have them to thank for making my trip one of the most refreshing and insightful, but most of all one that I don't regret coming for.

To my group leaders, I would like to give you my greatest gratitude for the worry, panic, anxiety, stress and exasperation that you have went through. Thank you for what we have seen you do, and thank you for what we didn't see you do as well.

I was disappointed with our campfire initially. The slumber we had burned through, the ideas we had to painfully shoot down and rebuild over and over all seemed to culminate to a huge, amazing cloud of... nothing. It was agonizing to see it all fall apart. Though I know that no one was at fault, I foolishly let negativity take its gleeful reign, dominating my thoughts and wishing for things that can only remain impossible dreams.

However, the gloom was chased away by the announcement of the sandcastle winner. It'd been quite a while since I felt a high, and those few cherished moments are something that will be on heavy rotation in my memory. Leaping there with these rag-tag group of now close friends, the depth of our friendships caught me off guard, and for a moment there I almost let a tear build. Almost.

I will definitely miss Penang - its food, people and most of all the memories it has so kindfully given me as keepsakes.

My mind often drifts back to those short, sharp images - Toiling away under the near-engulfed sun, working fast to bring the structure from our imagination into our hands. I hauled water, and carefully distributed it on each mound of sand, pressing, shaping, molding. After all, that was all sandcastles were about - the right proportion of sand, water and pressure. Too much of any, and the painstakingly composed structure will crumble at your fingers.

And when we finally finished, we were ecstatic. I restrained the urge to prance around in celebration, and we gathered round quickly to capture what few images we could before the threatening rain finally broke. As we hurried away into the safety of shelter, my mind stayed behind with the pyramid and castle we had created together.

All I could think of was each rain drop that splashed onto the magnificent but brittle creations. Each rain drop, disrupting the fine balance that took whole hours and continuous care to form. Each rain drop, battering away at the smoothed, refined edges we had created, creating their marks on them. The shape slowly gives way to the relentless assaults, collapsing and fading away till there was none, and the waves claimed the shore as its own.

Somebody to Lean On

2010-06-20T05:32:00.000-07:00

Somebody to Lean On

Lately, I've found a constant need to remind myself to pick my shoulders up. I can't shrug off the feel of an invisible, yet very real weight that's gradually growing on them, and have been having no luck in lightening the load. The mirror never fails to show me the slightly dejected, outward angle they are now prone to slope at these days. After days of careful thought and inspection, I gathered that the cause was not physical.

Weight has been piling on. I've been presented with a mentally, spiritually and physically draining task. I did my best in covering more ground at the start, knowing all to well that the mental stamina of my peers and myself could unlikely summon up enough momentum a late sprint. I was right about both, but unfortunately so - my feared last-stretch dash is here, and I'm having trouble keeping up.

Turning back during this drawn-out marathon, I can already see the attrition I've been subject to for the past few weeks eagerly waiting to catch up on me. The extra load on my shoulders are no more merciful - still it builds, enlarges, and threatens to break my stride. Fall? I can't afford to.

Having that image play out in my mind night after night does not help either. Slumber has become a distant friend - uncontactable at best. Night after night is spent squirming around, in vain hope that I can finally rest my brain, and find that short escape from the pressures I feel. I even spent some of those lost hours wondering whether I'd already embraced insanity, but just haven't gotten round to realising it yet.

The questions that came after were what haunted me most - Why I was doing what I was doing. For whom. Most importantly - what was I doing in the first place?

The weight on my shoulder's driving me crazy.

Yet my closest friend high up there has been the one to reassure and redirect me to the right path for this undoubtedly fated trial. Having presented me with a Macbook that was kindly lent to me by my sister, He somehow led me (through a certain sister-in-Christ) to the antidote I desperately craved.

I spent some time listening to this a few more times at home, loving the vibe of every tune and the strength of backup vocals I am often partial to. But after reading through the lyrics, I saw the message that had been waiting for me to open up to it.

All of a sudden, the endless race that I'd been going through seemed to just be forgotten. There was no competition, only other brothers and sisters on the same scenic but albeit rough strolling path I was on. The weight that had been causing me so much worry? They were nothing more than others who needed my shoulder as a resting place for awhile, before carrying on refreshed and stronger.

My struggle so far was for them. And if I needed somebody to lean on, all I had to do was to ask the friends around me, and they'd show no hestitation in offering the courtesy.

And all of a sudden, all the questions disappeared.

High Enough

2010-05-12T07:59:00.001-07:00

High Enough

As I woke up today, I didn't feel the familiar longing for a few more precious minutes for my comfy cot, but rather snapped into a surprisingly keen mood. Despite fighting insomnia the night before as a result of undue worries that I had no explanation for, the daily fatigue that I had prepared to parley with never made it for its regularly scheduled appointment. A good thing too - I never had the time for it today.

The whole morning was a painful drag for me. My nails hammered repeatedly onto any convenient surface, with my mind wishing that the clock would feel the pressure to keep up with my incessant drumming. I spent my time gazing skyward as well imagining a paintbrush in my hand that could sweep away the moodier grays that seemed to encroach upon our skies with a cheerful blue. The weather toyed with my hopes the whole day, but at last gave way to a miraculously perfect setting for my reason for coming to school today.

Being in an agreeable mood, the fluffy white pillows in the sky did their job in shielding us from the burn of the sun, but never once succumbed to the temptation in traveling earthward. My creator had heard my prayer; My provider painted my sky with all the right shades. The perfect setting was miraculous.

Below these tranquil arrangements, I could taste the spirit that saturated the air. Tight competition was held everywhere, and while watching and supporting my fellow Homaknights, I couldn't help but admire and appreciate the other houses' tenacity and encouragement. The players themselves showed their grit through their play, reserving no efforts in their goal of reaching for victory shared with their fellow house members as well.

Blue, Red, Green and Orange were dancing about before me, and I felt so proud to be part of this vibrant kaleidoscope. It had been a long time since I felt that sensation where my blood flooded with enough adrenaline, giving me the irrationally unrestrained desire to express my excitement. It had been a long time since I felt such a great high, to truly revel in the energy that everyone emitted. And after awhile, after watching the heart we pour into every shot and every play, neither house nor colour had mattered to be. Dunman High was my high.

The Male Finals Basketball match drilled a clear message into my mind. The heartstopping game had been drawn out several times as neither team felt satisfied for a conclusion written by their opponent. The sheer length of the match was mind-boggling, and I saw how so many players endured cramps and pains that made even Chun Seng scream like a prepubescent schoolgirl for their house. And despite being floored by their physical limits, they continue to scream encouragements at their team mates who carry on the stalemate.

I would be lying if I said I had enjoyed myself - it would be an understatement. The experience was almost religious, changing my perceptions of Senior High as a whole. I wasn't simply awed by my own house, but every single one coming together today to show what Dunmanians can truly be made of. After today, these would be the proud images that form in my mind whenever I declare myself a Dunman High Senior High student.

As I rode home in a comfortable van, courtesy of Kuan Liang's kindness, I heard the splatters of raindrops slowly starting to fall from the sky.

Sweat and Tears

2010-04-25T05:26:00.001-07:00

Sweat and Tears

After the painful haste in Always With Me and Ponyo, my confidence took a stab. I'd hoped for so much more from each of us - Practices and combines have always showed that the sound we were capable of creating was so much more captivating and colorful. But there was no time to consider beyond that. Stage movements kept me busy for most of the night.

After Odoru and Red Sweet Pea, I was convinced the night was over. For a first concert, I felt mildly satisfied with this first foray into a strange new experience. I've grown to be understanding to how limits can often override expectations, and accepted the past few hours' adherence to that annoying fact. It wasn't the Dream I'd quite hoped for, but for a first concert, I could live with it.

I made my way in the dim lightings of the tiny backstage, carefully keeping my guitar (Which I might name "Newbie" - I'll explain next time.) close to my side. I was exhausted. Every bump and knock that happened between the transitions reverberated violently in my head. The tiniest of mistakes were only amplified and intensified by the tense silence that I tried so hard to maintain. By the time I got into my seat for the finale, I was almost ready for a simple end to the long, tiring day.

Fate has a unique taste and liking for irony. The first part of the Dream Medley had always been my favourite, in particular for the fact that our guitars were sure to have their fair share of stage presence for that one section. Beyond that, however, the balance of sound was left to the questionable acoustics of the PAC. Nevertheless, I started the song with enthusiasm, playing further from the soundhole just to squeeze out every nuance of sound I could from my guitar.

Then, everything went black. I wasn't looking at the scores, but for a moment every note I held in my head disappeared along with my vision. Muscle memory was the only thing driving me from chord to chord, and I picked up where I left off in a hurry, but another part of me remained in shock. I almost wanted to stop, but I saw what the darkness illuminated.

I saw the Year 6 players in front continuing to pluck and strum away. They were every bit as surprised as I was, but never missed a beat. I saw how our singers continued, confidently ignoring the absence of a microphone, their upbeat mood reaching far more hearts than their voices a few ears. I saw the audience holding up phones and lights, the light that may not have revealed my scores, but revealed what was important.

The dark allowed what was important to shine. And when we gathered outside the guitar room, listening to Dawn, Kevin, Miss Ho and Sin Hui's debriefs, I was already perspiring all over. My face in particular was covered with an unsightly sheen. And secretly, I knew my eyes were relenting to the emotions built up over the day.

My face was covered with a mixture of sweat and tears. And after awhile, I couldn't feel a difference between the two.

Dream

2010-04-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

Dream

I was squirming in my seat just a couple of hours back, wondering and wishing about tomorrow. The concert fever built up in the recently bustling PAC had permeated my wakefulness, edging me on into countless worries and doubts. In a short hour, I'd be congratulating my artistically inclined friends whose intricate steps and movements have kept me enraptured for the night. In just another 12, I'd be back in the same venue but with a vastly different objective. Within a mere 22, the curtains of the PAC would part once again.

The anxiety had grabbed my mind once I stepped outside the campus, jolting my relaxed mood into disarray. I'd made the sudden realisation of how close it was to my turn on the stage. Not as an emcee, nor a mentally questionable speaker who only had 2 minutes to churn out as many one-liners that could be pulled from my imagination for the sake of class glory. For once, I'd be a performer.

Playing the guitar had been a dream of mine - The same instrument that sang infinite tunes in the hands of others had always receded into a silent, clumsy block of wood with a few strings attached to it the moment it was handed to me. I stared at it awkwardly for the first time, and it seem the least bit interested in returning the eye contact, only annoyed by my inadequacy that was amplified by the skill of its owner.

The chance to realise this off-handed thought had came true not overnight, but only through countless nights of plucking away at the six specific strings.When I played the G chord for the first time, I was drawn in completely. I listened to the six different notes that somehow found common ground in forming a collective musical picture, waiting for the sound to finally run out of breath, before slowly continuing with the then-painful C. Followed by D. Even E slowly made its way in. And all of a sudden, I didn't want to stop.

Over the next few months, with my right hand taking cues from the left, and the left reciprocating for the right's varying speeds, I made a steady progression. My left fingers had grown hardy from use, and familiar with each fret that corresponded to every string. My right had grown their nails out, forming the perfect tool in expressing every note with care and passion. Even my left index had taken to the task of barring down all six strings at once. My dream, bit by bit, was growing into a reality.

Right now, despite a desperate need to reconcile with my bed, the tabs and notes that I have pored over days on end are now resurfacing in my head, fighting for a chance to be released through my guitar again. I have no energy, but still create some to satisfy this near-addiction. I create some to do my best for tomorrow, in knowing my fellow dreamers are doing the same.

As I sleep tonight, I have my hopes up, my dreams big for tomorrow.

Routined Disaster

2010-04-20T06:30:00.000-07:00

Routined Disaster

I've been falling into an endless replay of mundane days. The work of each passing day is what greets me the moment I step into the now familiar halls of our campus, and does not take its much-appreciated leave till it is satisfied. Yet before a breath can barely complete its precious cycle within my exhausted lungs, another comes along, demanding my attention. My mind is now eager only to arrange an appointment for a Sleep-In Saturday - despite me recently discovering how infinite my schedule can be, slumber continues to evade it.

I have seldom taken to any activity that involves repetition, as anyone who knew of my progress as an Air Rifle shooter back in Junior High may know (on a side note - congrats AWC!!!!). Routines always end up in a quagmire of misery, messiness and dissastisfaction in the abstract world I like to call my mind. There are people who rely on a routine to sort their lives out, but I'd very much rather build up a rhythm of my own choosing; A rhythm that provides freedom for variation to keep things fresh, a rhythm that keeps me going rather than drags me along, a rhythm that lets me know what to look forward to and when.

The danger of a routine is something I try to avoid, and I seek out the nuances of insanity in school that are always there to break up my droll days. Whenever a chance for a conversation to nowhere comes along in the form of a friend in the canteen, I check for any spare homework that my emotions may be able to overcome. If fortune allows for it, I gladly take the brief reprieve from school's duller effects and enjoy a talk that thankfully seldom includes any intellectual topics.

What do you do to break up your routined disaster?

All Tied Up

2010-03-04T02:35:00.000-08:00

All Tied Up

Every morning, my routine beckons at me to peel my lazy cranium off my pillow. The comfortable enclosure calls out to me, whispering little temptations into my ear to entice me into maintaining my restful recline. The siren song calls out to me louder as my routine gets annoyed and tugs me off, sparing my thirst for slumber no quarter. My mental checklist kicks in as I brush my teeth and jerk at the temperature of my shower (which I have never been able to get right). I continue my pre-programmed process, getting dressed, having breakfast, and putting on my shoes. And for the first time in a long time, I stepped out of the house and turned back - I almost forgot my tie.

I've been set up as a target time and again as a Junior High student. The donning of a familiar blue cloth covering my metal buttons outside of Mondays attracted the wrong kinds of attention from teachers. I had to be extra careful in my attitude and attire, fearing for what I represented and portrayed constantly. My friends contributed to my constant subconscious anxiety, albeit in more casual ways, but nevertheless a presence unable to be ignored.

The initial discomfort that I couldn't reconcile with in year 2 had made its play on my conscience. Tempting, persuading and tugging at my indecision, I wavered early on about when and where are the boundaries for this subtle torture that I could not separate myself from. Mondays proved to be the greatest challenge, when my other classmates released themselves from the discomforting bind, and happily enjoyed the freedom of unhindered breath.

My contemplation ended up lasting through my term. The continual struggle could not be completely stowed away - My resolve in keeping my tie on would last a few weeks initially. Thereafter, I approached the shades of gray in this seemingly insignificant dilemma, and I thankfully make the same decision. Over and over.

The recurring demand on my faith in my decision had led to me to start to take pride in my daily ritual. My tie slowly turned from a bothersome noose into a feature I pride myself in. My tie is my reminder of my duties, my responsibilities and my ability. More importantly, my tie is what ties me to other more important entities. I am tied to the school, knowing that I wear its logo proudly in front of me. I am tied to the Council, remembering this as part of my promise to them. I am tied to my values, with my tie being the lowliest of such manifestations.

What are you tied to?

Appreciation

2010-02-11T05:30:00.001-08:00

Appreciation

As taken from my slides during the speech given, with some minor edits and additions here and there.

- My family for their love
- Year 2K 07 for shaping my ideas of unity
- Year 4M 09 for getting me through tough times
- All Junior High SCs from 2007-2010 for being an extended family
- Junior High Executive Committee 08/09 for propelling me to improve and change for the better
- 5C11 for making Senior High life a pretty painting of a bright 2 years ahead
- 6C11 seniors for showing me that friendships take no effort in building across levels
- Junior High SC teachers from all 3 years that knew when to put me down in order for me to learn how - - to get up
- Fellow SC candidates this year for showing me what an amazing level Year 5s of 2010 are
- Mr Choo for his support in my preliminary campaign
- Current Senior High Student Councilors for their guidance and inspiration in leadership of a different, but no less awesome brand
- Friends for pushing me forward and feeding my growth in confidence in every small meeting we have en-route to lessons
- Kiat Shing and Nicole, for letting me know that if I should be unable to garner the support from the school, another one more capable than me will
- God for who He is

I have full faith in the outcome of the vote, and submit to the divinity that guided every true stroke. My heartiest congratulations and deepest support to Kiat Shing - there is no doubt in my mind that you are not chosen by mistake or by chance, and I know you will do this job to the best of your ability.

Perhaps my proverbial boat hasn't come yet. Perhaps a patience waiting will see to the deliverance of my true casting. Perhaps I just have to have a little more faith for a little while longer. Till He calls.

Dedication

2010-01-31T05:14:00.000-08:00

Dedication

My heart's making frequent oscillations between thrill and fear of late. One beat brings a face, a name up to my head. And for that moment, my impressions, memories and hopes for that being lingers. It manifests slowly, creating a future that nears tangibility, wavers on the edge of realism. Then the next beat - the sensation is washed away, a new ripple forms in my mind's ocean, a new identity takes its place. The process repeats over and over, forming a storm that throws my thoughts into torrential torment and tribulation.

The campus has had a large amount of vibrant sound and melodic colours resonate through its hallways and rooms. Posters had sprung up over the course of hours on Monday, and more followed behind soon after. Messages and taglines screamed across the walls, and the videos that were broadcasted on canteen screens took on their own hypnotic, drilling tone. That time of the year is here again - Student Council elections.

A number of Year 6 councilors I talked to shared my perception: It's a hell of a year to run in. The quantum leap in publicity standards was apparent, especially after our respected veterans had decided to juxtapose their posters from past years alongside the flashier newcomers. Our ideas took form effortlessly, shaped into pictures, initiatives, rallies and air fresheners in the excruciatingly finite span of seven days.

Still, my mind posed me with a question that I find fear in answering - what happens next? The eleven from each house continue with a grueling journey, but what of the remaining? Is this where our actions find their conclusion, our care the end of its life? Are we going to let this energy we built up since an epicly memorable orientation diminish? Or do we continue to feed that momentum with constant attention and volition, working hard to serve because, rather than in spite, of our place as a student?

As beautiful as our passion for service can be, as much our expressed love is appreciated, our chances are only limited by each other. We may impose the guise of a competitor onto a fellow candidate. The contrary offers a much more apt identity - these are fellow Dunmanians who have felt a calling to care, to serve and to lead. We have all seen each other sweat for this aim, all while putting in our very best.

This is why this note is dedicated to all those that generate and manifest dedication. Those that spent days upon hours thinking, executing and hoping. Those that have adjusted schedules in order to pursue our purpose. Those that love Dunman High.

Best of luck to all candidates and servants in campaigning - because we have all made an impact in our school community.

365 Days of Gratitude

2009-12-30T08:18:00.000-08:00

365 Days of Gratitude

The trip around our sun has been draining. Regrets often rear their gloomy heads at first when the topic of earth's revolution around our life-giving star.

An unfortunately large part of my 16th year had yielded to melancholic moods, mostly inevitable, but nonetheless an utter waste of life-enriched time.Their origins are, like the regrets themselves, plentiful and near innumerable. Sometimes I wonder to myself how an extra push or jolt at given moment could have produced said result in such situations. For a depressingly large number of times, the counsel of my mind concluded: "Yeah, idiot."

I gave up on contemplating the possibilities of time travel after a (very long) while, and my sufferings happened to be next in line. Sufferings, being experiences that are differentiated from regrets not by process but by result. Sufferings, being toiling away my joy and rest, but to have it paid back tenfold and more to myself or others. Sufferings, being the prerequisite of happier outcomes. These, too, have been abundant. More on both the process and reward that in coming days.

My life had become somewhat of a horrible joke as well. The dark and heavy grays of my life served as a stark, almost humorous juxtaposition against the carefree pinks and yellows that seemed to be the common shades enriching the life of people around me. There was no refuge to expel my sorrows, and my only thought was to mask over and blend myself. All this time I waited for a breakthrough, some form of encouragement, some provision of comfort. It was like being in a pool, where you fight to break a tantalisingly thin glass barrier that denies a gasp of fresh air, air that would doubtlessly generate a stronger desire and potential to improve once inspired. I struggled. I drowned.

My period of depression was akin to a coma. I felt dead to the joy around me, less sensitive to the impact I wasn't making, and unaware of others that should have been made of me. My blindness to the most important of emotions were only matched by my indifference to significance, friendships, and, quite scarily, my own slump. Yet like any comatose, despite being cut off from external influences, my mind continued to ponder. Life churned into a routinely pace, one which I took no enjoyment in but had to search deep for motivation and energy to keep up with. There was only one source - friends. Once again, more on that in coming days.

Through all the bleak periods, my life soon brightened up. I was freed of responsibilities, and it gave me time to be myself again. I recovered, albeit at my own slow pace, and soon started to feel more like myself. The year soon showed its kinder side as well, bringing me together with the most amazing of friends that I've been missing. And the rest, although not the least bit boring, is history.

2010 approaches, and my mind stares at my resolution for next year in a tense deadlock as gazes remain adamant. Coming up with an annual goal has been a surprisingly easy task this year. Yet easy would be the complete opposite of my personal challenge. I remain sure of my stand as a guitarist, as an ISAC member, and a Dunmanian in want of a greater position to serve from. My mind is ringing loudly to stop me from setting my life up for disaster next year. My heart continues to tell a different, more positive tale, full of colours in a happier and more exciting shade. My consciousness is torn.

Yet no matter where I am headed, the weatherman has already confirmed the presence of looming storm clouds. And I am looking forward to finding my balance, a greater proficiency appreciation of everything and everyone, and the reveling in energy in every form. I look forward to 365 days of gratitude.

It's amazing how one video both captures my life in 2009 in the former half, and hopefully foretells the accurate path laid out before me in its latter.

What do you look forward to in 2010?

Christmas Presents

2009-12-23T07:11:00.000-08:00

Christmas Presents

The winter solstice came silently two days ago. It was the reversal of the shortening of days and the lengthening of nights, and marked the apex of cold winter's reign. On the same day two days ago, I was having too much fun with peers to notice.

Recent days gave me some time to reminisce of my days of distinct immaturity and a passion for simple fun. December was my favourite among the twelve months (come to think of it, it still is!). The other eleven were normally spent in wanting for the the last, where promises of gifts, food, relaxation and more gifts awaited my 135cm frame.

In often times, my imagination collided with my hopes and wishes, and I'd dream of getting toys costing at least 3 figures, taking overseas trips to places whose names I couldn't pronounce, and having something to contribute to conversations revolving around the most lavish of gifts, the most mindblowing of vacations.

In often times, I was disappointed. Santa never really received any of the letters I'd crafted. None of my wishes seemed up to making the journey to the frosty north, leaving my Christmases cold with the chill of heartbreak. Cold that couldn't be chased away regardless of the endless packs socks and underwear that had become my yuletide staple year after year.

Now that I've had the time to think about my Christmas wish this year, it's hard not to remember my trip to Chiang Mai. Mushroom hunting, trekking and interacting with some of the most adorable humans that the world has never known made its mark on my perceptions. Their appreciation of the plentiful beauty they lived in had caught my wonder. The "Villagey guy", as we came to know him, pulled toys from the otherwise boring greenery that we blindly ignored - Stalks turned into bubble sticks that oozed with the soapy liquids waiting to be fulfilled and take flight as translucent, spherical rainbows; Leaves that nature intended to be the only kind of party poppers that wouldn't cause a mess after release.

Equally impossible to leave my consciousness is the Hong Kong trip. My journey at Hong Kong had encouraged my timid bravery in reaching out to new friends, and opening up my plans to find a whole new love and freedom for the first time was a breath of much-needed fresh air. The warmth I'd received in reciprocation of my own is a constant reminder that my mind has only fathomed so little of the reality built around me. Till now I continue to miss the presence of friends who have touched me deeply despite the brevity of contact.

The topic of newfound friendships had brought me back to my PEA committee as well. Our mad late nights that were spent in preparation had did their job not only logistically but spiritually as well. Time granted us the opportunity to feed off each other's strengths and poke fun at each other's weaknesses - all in good humour of course. The colour we injected into each other's presence had cascaded towards our level as a whole, and gave our whole event the life we truly appreciated.

These thoughts that I was suddenly flooded with had then given me the epiphany I was hoping for. For this Christmas, the toys and gifts that I'd so desperately wanted before didn't possess the same luster or attraction it once had. My gifts had come so silently and beautifully in the most perfect of forms. I've been given all that I have needed, more than what I'd hoped, way beyond anything I have ever expected. For Christmas this year, I've been given friendships to last till many more Christmases.

Gifts are all around,
Love is all there is.

Merry Christmas to all. Hope you've already received your fair share of gifts too!

Falling for Hong Kong

2009-12-08T06:32:00.000-08:00

Falling for Hong Kong

For six whole days, my ears had been given an unfamiliar but strangely enjoyable massage. Each Cantonese word carrying its own tone and passion sashayed through my mind. Although none of it had held any meaning, the tone and slur that always accompanied such a beautiful language had left me longing to hear more of it in spite of my inability. I can only smile when I listen to the conversations whirling around my consciousness, as I have no way of following it with any form of understanding. The best I can do is quietly appreciate the innate charm and sexiness that the language holds.

So many things had made me fall for Hong Kong in such a short period of time. The different buildings, old and new, all crowding in the same street can only be described as palette where the darker, mature browns, grays and muddy greens have already found their place alongside the brighter blues, reds and yellows. Hidden beneath homes are the infinite shops, cafes and local haunts that make up Hong Kong's famed streets. It was a wonder to behold, a concept that could barely fit within my narrow perception. Yet such a grand and awesome factor was the smallest of reasons why I forgot to pack my heart into my luggage to bring it with me back to Singapore.

I have my fellow dunmanians, both seniors and peers, to thank for this amazing trip as well. The Year 5s run on 100% enthusiasm, and are darn right proud of it. Their spontaneity, energy and constant excitement brought much needed freshness to the trip. My peers were there to keep it sane when needed as well, and they have my gratitude for that. Dunmanians were never meant to work alone, but in families - That much I have confirmed from this trip.

And then there's 3B. Schools, as most people say, are the second home of students. If so, then our classes would be our extended family in that home. I was blessed with a family of vibrance, epic fun, boundless joy, generous friendship and comforting warmth. Their smiles, jokes and attempts to make me talk more collectively made me feel a part of their class. Though my time during their lessons was short, no second lacked interest, and it is all thanks to the beautiful love that they surrounded me with. My only regret other than the lack of time spent together would be that I am sorely missing a group photo with them. Perhaps next time, we'd be more fortunate...

I cannot forget to mention the other students on this exchange program well. My new found friends hailing from faraway New Zealand and neighbouring Shanghai completed the magnificent week. The time spent with each other was often fleeting, but no less enjoyable than any other experience. Despite our differences on the surface, our cores were all one and the same in loving to enjoy life, eagerness in friendship and a united hate for homework. They are truly friends in every meaning of the word.

Of course, it'd be a sin to forget my buddy, Colin, and his family. Colin, Crystal, Aunty Corsina and Uncle Tom had been my gracious and generous hosts for the week, being my guardians, caretakers, providers and tour guides. My trip would never have been such a powerful memory if not for their unsurpassed hospitality. The four of them have given so much to me that I felt guilty for not being able to repay them with something significant. Hopefully, my extended family would make a trip to Singapore in the near future, and I'd have the chance to provide the same treatment.

Adjusting to Hong Kong came naturally. Sleeping in the bed Colin sacrificed for me, the buzz of the street was well within earshot. However, the engines and alarms of passing vehicles soon harmonised into an ever-evolving lullaby that accompanied me to slumber every passing night. The food there made their own play on my other senses, allowing me to discover another magical aspect of Hong Kong. There's so much to thank for even after the trip, as memories fade in and out of my consciousness as I go about a lazier life back in Singapore.

I have fallen deeply, madly, passionately in love with Hong Kong. And there is no way to forget it.

Pom Rak SC!

2009-11-19T01:37:00.001-08:00

Pom Rak SC!

Day 1

I practically leaped out of the comfort of my humble bed.

An twelfth of a to-be-amazing day later, I was scarfing down a piece of bread before having to hurry my way to where all the councilors were gathering. Attendance was, as always, a hell of a job to do. I was excited, afraid, nervous - altogether raring to go. It was also an appreciated surprise to see Jun Rong and Han Ping at such an ungodly hour just to send me off (at least that's what they told me. It's true, right?) Countless barriers and bag checks later, the enormity of the coming days settled into me as I settled into its awe. The magnitude wasn't that near to Cairns a few years ago, but a hint of it was there.

Two uneventful flights left me itching for some sort of entertainment, and the ecstasy of finally landing in a scorching Chiang Mai was near overwhelming. The heat gave my surroundings a shade of familiarity, but signboards scribbled all over with foreign hieroglyphics constantly reminded me of where I was. Different wordings all sent one simple, classic message: "Dorothy, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

Sightseeing took its customary seat in the packed itinerary. As our bus rumbled along unfamiliar streets, I slowly lost the voice of the tour guide, and started to apply my attention to what my eyes could take in as I stared out through the bus window.

Time slipped away from my consciousness for what seemed like a moment between a second and a day, and we arrived at a temple built halfway up a mountain. Although its name escapes me, the sight that I beheld lingers. Three hundred and six stone steps were laid out in a daunting angle in front of us; The two intricately tiled dragons flanking either side height eagerly invited us to conquer its height. Most comments I picked up seemed less enthusiastic. The freshness of the air fortunately morethan makes up for its bewildering scarcity, as many of us were left gasping after the breathtaking climb.

When we were asked to enter the temple, I opted to stay beyond its perimeters instead. Iris, Regina and Rebecca had made the same wise (where wise is used in its most biased form) decision. The four of us made our way round the edge of the impressive building to be rewarded with a magnificent find. A large balcony-like area where the trees gave way to a scenic view of Chiang Mai, slightly shrouded with the mist of the high altitudes we were at.

A few artsy photos later, we made our way down the steps again into the shops set up below. We found a boy whose made to be a tourist attraction in itself. A few feet away, his presence had caught our both of our attention, and Iris couldn't resist a photo. Despite several dirt marks on his face, his perfect cheeks and eyes were the only thing we saw as we passed by him sitting on a straw mat playing with a wooden car. Too bad he spent most of his time ignoring us.

Near our starting point, Mr Tan appeared to be having fun with other children, but ones that were was foreign to Chiang Mai as we were. His aggressively candid behavior amused a group of students from an international school in Guang Zhou. We spent some time observing the exchange, with Mr Tan pestering them to improve on their Chinese. A while later, Iris and I took the chance to chat up with their Teacher, who was every bit as warm as the weather, proud of his scarce proficiency in the oriental language, and surprisingly well versed in Singlish (The man already picked up "lah" and "cheh"!)

Not long after, it was time for see-you-laters to be said, and the councilors were split up into groups of ten to board trucks. We took a winding trip to a tourism-oriented village a little way off the tar road. Our journey seemed to have taken longer than expected though, as we arrived at the village only to discover that the group ahead was beyond our sight. What was present for our eyes to enjoy was a quiet recluse, whose humility was expressed in its housing and charmingly uneven roads.

Mr Tan made the decision for us to wander as a separate group, seeing as there was no way to find the rest of the councilors within the complex winding paths. We took pictures with yet more friendly children with permission from their equally kind parents. The village held a slow pace despite its mass of shops set up, which left me puzzled.

Our group soon made a great find, where a wooden archway revealed a winding path that led through a sloping garden built behind the village. The entry fee of 10 baht was a steal, and Mr Tan, in an affable mood, decided to pay the full sum for all of us. With the best of nature lining our pathways, the walk was a delight, but held its darker secrets.

At the bottom of the slope, we sighted a beautifully laid out pond that received its liquid beauty from a nearby waterfall - probably man-made. Some of the children were playing there thread-bare, which came as a slight shock. Despite this outwardly utopian representation, what happened next bothered me. The children, seeing that they had our attention, asked us to throw money into the water. They then proceeded to dive after the coins, hoping that their antics would bemuse us into releasing more precious nickels and dimes for their foraging.

I declined. That incident changed my view of the village itself. Being forced into changing from its traditional income source of poppy-growing, it had selected to sell its natural beauty to tourists who wanted to get a look at a technologically deprived, backward and ultimately paradisal society. Paradisal it could not be even after all this time, but the proper placement of traditional souvenirs (as if souvenirs could be part of a farming village's tradition), flowers and buildings would be enough to provide the expected effect.

I was left pondering its future if such was to continue, as tourist visits have been dropping. There were too many shops, with too little purchases to go around. Their fate seemed darker than their flowers colourful, and I wasn't too sure about encouraging their current way of life. But when I passed a nearby food stall, I found my answer.

A swarm of flies had took a fancy to some of the local produce on display. Upon seeing this, the shopkeeper simply ambled over and flaunted the most mindblowing invention I have ever seen. By pulling a few plastic bags filled with water and attached to the patched up roof via a string, the combination of insignificant materials scared the living daylights out of the tiny buzzing terrors. These people will adapt.

By the end of our short and long journey, we finally found the other councilors, and were brought up to speed on what we missed (basically, nothing). However, I was feeling the right vibes and decided to rock a traditional costume for some photos in yet another florally populated landscape. Pictures are around in facebook, for those who are curious.

Everything else after that had turned blank. My eyes and mind had seen enough for a day.

On the way (I hope):

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

We are family

2009-11-05T06:35:00.000-08:00

We are family

Sorry Sofina, but it's not a list

Despite its brief, impractical existence, flowers are still passionately popular as a gift for fellow man. Yellow roses to express appreciation of friendship; Red for relationships more complex and treasured. White carnations to show sympathy and sorrow for a great loss. Lilies to celebrate the ascension from an institution of education. Holly to remind us that the annual, loved yuletide season draws close (if the annoying commercials haven't done that already). Despite its brief, impractical existence, the impact of a flower grows beyond its physical and temporal presence. After a good flower withers and exits our view, the effect of its reassuring message and alluring beauty remains within our consciousness.

My very first experience with a principal had been embarrassingly awkward. I stood in my primary school's general office, being there for the first time. Stretching myself to peer over the counter to convey my needs to the clerk was already a struggle, and I did not notice as the then-principal entered the office till she was two steps away. Suddenly aware of her regal, haughty (and thus somewhat creepy) appearance, I spun around to face her and gave an instinctive bow. The action I had already got down pat, but being a primary one student I could not stop myself before the wrong word had left my mouth.

"Hello," was what my voice had managed to choke out. A mistake. She gave a little sympathetic smile, and even as I straightened my back my head did not do the same. "In such an occasion, it would be more appropriate to give a 'Good afternoon, Miss [Censored for my own safety. Take that, online irresponsibility!]'". I stammered out another thank you, and breathed in relief as she ended the distressing encounter and walked away. I tried my very best to avoid her after that.

The lesson caught in my mind, and proper greetings were something that I made sure I did not screw up whenever I meet a teacher or a principal.

6 years later, I made it into Dunman High. The memory still haunted me, and I took extra care to note the appearance of our Principal, Mr Sng, when he went to the podium and spoke to the school. Several weeks later, it paid off, as I found myself walking towards the direction he was coming from. I carefully executed the proper formalities - stop, bow, and give a simple "Good afternoon." I gave myself a mental pat on the back, and was about to be on my way when my mind was blown away - Mr Sng gave a smile, waved and said "Hello, afternoon!" with the warmth of a mid-day sun.

I repeat for emphasis - My mind was blown away. He continued on his way, but I couldn't locate my head to sufficiently garner the same smoothness in pace. Since when did principals say hello?

That was when I started to learn what a principal Mr Sng is. His presence over the years has always been appreciated under all circumstances, all situations, all people. It is an understatement to say that he is well respected by students - an ironically rare characteristic that principals achieve. The short speeches he gives to us at the start of every term are a testament to his perception of himself to the school; There are no marks statistics, no "rules" that they have to enforce upon us, no singling out students who have not been satisfactory in conduct. He reminds us to care for others in not using the lift, he convinces us to work hard for our own sakes, and he lets us know that the school still cares for us as we continue to care for it. Mr Sng is more clear than any of us what Dunman High is - family.

This is the principal that students rave about to their friends in other schools. This is the principal that when you take a photo with him, you gloat about it on facebook (looking at you, JJ). This is the principal that has a fan group of over a thousand members. This is the principal that stops to say hi whenever you say hi to him. This is the principal that says hi even if you're not sure how to greet him. This is the principal that helps to carry chairs after a campfire ends at 9pm. This is the principal of Dunman High. Like I've said - What a principal.

So all that's left to say is to bid a farewell. The parting is every bit as important as the greeting. Close guy friends would just give each other a pat, nod and smirk, but it may be too informal for such an occasion. Close girl friends would exchange a note, a present, 593 messages, a blogpost in dedication and crying faces, but I doubt that's the best tone to end off with. Then there's "May the force be with you" or "Live long and prosper" for the sci-fi fans, but they aren't exactly appropriate. "Have a good one", "" and "IF YOU GO I SWEAR I'LL JUMP!!!" are great in their own right, but still too nonchalant, too cold, and way too creepily desperate.

Thus it is best that we all say our own personal goodbyes to him in our own personal ways, be it through a message, a letter or a wallpost. But perhaps the most important message of all is this - Dunman High is family. Dunman High is love.

Stray Cats

2009-10-22T07:59:00.000-07:00

Stray Cats

Animals without homes in my childhood were to be avoided like the plague. From rashes to stomachaches, mysterious discomforts to unexplainable insanity, the ailments carried by the diseased, unwanted critters that are often seen lingering at my flat's void deck were endlessly horrifying. I was warned about the consequences whenever a cat was in my path, and I carefully heeded parental advice due to the fear of the aftermath - partly from the suicidal decision to initiate contact, partly from my parents. To touch them was to touch death, to accept them was to accept suffering. They were to be avoided like the plague.

I was walking home today right after a hilarious dinner. It was a barrelful of laughs for the PEA comm, and a single, hour-long, continuous giggle for Zoe. The hangover of humour carried over with the bus ride with the 4D guys and Janson, before I finally had a short walk back to my house alone. Alone, the ecstasy couldn't be shaken off, and I had to hum any song popping to mind, making my way back along a familiar path.

Halfway through the chorus of I'm Yours, I suddenly noticed a wayward cat lying right next to my foot, and almost fell on my side with the slight shock. The cat gazed up lazily at me, eyes shining brightly in the hushed night, as if to say "What?". I gave a sigh, and was about to be on my way when an urge tugged back. I stopped midstep and stared at the cat, locking gazes, sharing bored, blank expressions.

Until now, I still cannot figure out for the life of me why what happened next actually happened. As the cat kept its two alluring eyes on my less impressive ones, I deliberated, considered and debated. And slowly, but without hestitation, I lowered myself to meet the cat closer to its eye level, never breaking eye contact. The cat then seemed to have its own moral dilemma, but was careful not to betray its carefully maintained calm. One reason why I now prefer cats to dogs.

Then - it happened.

The cat seemed to relent and give me its trust, getting up from its comfortable recline on the grass and making its relaxed way towards me. And instead of stopping in front of me, the cat started to circle where I had crouched down upon. I felt its firm upright tail trailing around my legs; Its friendly caress convinced me to stay near it a little while longer.

All this time alarm bells were being set off in my head, every bit of past wisdom screaming at me to hurry the hell home before I catch something that isn't as rewarding as fish. Common sense was sending endless reports about unidentified bacteria permeating my skin and devouring my body from the vessels outwards. Stray animals are to be avoided like the plague.

But the cat already captured my attention.

I ventured to start giving it a stroke, the cat giving the slightest smirk of appreciation. I caught the hint and rubbed it around its head and back, as it continued casting a spell upon me, walking around and through my legs and letting me know that its friendship has already been fully extended to a strange but comforting human.

Yet time caught up with my consciousness again and I knew that I had to bid farewell to my newfound friend. I stood up, and the cat seemed confused by my sudden departure. As I walked away, it started to follow me. Even as I sped up the cat followed my pace, and seemed annoyed to find that I had to leave it only after such a short while.

When I reached the lift, the cat seemed to understand, staring from a short distance away from the noisy, strangely cramped room that always closed its doors with unsuspecting humans within and spat out differently shaped ones at undefined intervals of the day. I whispered a slight goodbye, before finally disappearing into the lift.

Stray animals are to be avoided like the plague, but I think from now on I may just make an exception for stray cats.

David Letterman

2009-09-12T04:26:00.000-07:00

David Letterman

I have got to say - He's almost as good at it as I am. Almost.

Rant.

2009-09-01T00:48:00.000-07:00

Rant.

*Ahem*

Mygodonemonthisallwehavewateverareweallgonnado.

Itslikeapocalypseminusallthezombiesandcoolshotgunsthatrandomlyappearinthestreetsforustopickupanddefendourselves.

Atleastwedontmeettanks.

ButIneverforgettotellmyselfthatIwontworrymylifawaybecauseitsnotagoodthingnotworthit.

Onemonth.

AndImstillthinkingsomuchsomuchwaytoofriggingmuchcantstopthinkingatall.

WhatIddoforreleaseforfreedomforabsoluteeternityclosetoreachbuttoofartotouch.

Gottashineinthisdarknessdarknessclosinginbutnotconsumingnotsurrounding.Unlessweallowit.

Stopthinkingstopthinking.Orcompromise.Stopthinkingsomuchstopthinkingsomuch.

MaybesoonitllbebacktothatbutwishIknewmyselfwhatthatwouldbe.

WouldIknowifthatcameorwoulditbeinvisiblecreepinguponmeandleavemewondering.

OhandImsleepingtodreamaboutyoubutimsodamntiredofhavingtolivewithoutyou,

butidontmindsleepingtodreamaboutyoubutimsotired.

Sotiredsotiredindeedlikeathousandouttherethatfightfortheirsleepfightfortheirrest.

Nevergiveupneverstopfightingforthatlittlebitthatmakesourlifeworthliving.

Fightforthismonthfightforthisyearfightforthislifeitsrighthererightnowwhencurtianscalljusttakeyourbow.

Thesementorsmasterstheyholdhopeinuswedontlethemdownwedoitforthemforourselvesforall.

Whattoptenaretheretofantasizetomaterializewhenjourneysarepersonaljourneysareuniquejourneysaresingularandseperate?

Thinknomoreaboutthatthinknomore.

Work.

Till a month.

Go.

"I Have Just Met You, And I Love You!"

2009-08-10T04:50:00.000-07:00

"I Have Just Met You, And I Love You!"

Maybe a change in blogging style might help me blog more.

It's funny how epiphanies find people in the strangest of places. The movie with my class after National Day celebrations at school was an almost unanimous choice. "Up" was something I'd been looking forward to, and it never let me down.

Dug's appearance was one of typical nostalgic comedy that would expectedly follow from a talking animal, yet the simple line that he spoke that seemed so touching in a caramel and gummy bear kind of way - "I Have Just Met You, And I Love You!". It had me laughing for awhile, yet the line had lingered on in my mind beyond that movie, beyond that day.

Disney movies often have poetic messages behind their movies that I can't get enough of, and the line was something that hit me hard in the head. Love wouldn't be the first thing I'd express to a roly-poly "wilderness explorer!" and a man with a wrinkly cube for a head tied to a house floating with more balloons than a national day parade. A lot of confusion, maybe, but not love.

Perhaps that single catch-phrase is something we can adopt a little more often in our largely solitary lives. We were taught not to talk to strangers, don't accept gifts from people we don't know and to scream for help when an uncle asks whether "you want me show you something, girl?". True it may be, when we were defenseless toddlers that knew only to laugh when we're happy, and scream when we're not. But the same mindset may already be obsolete when our discretion is more reliable and we can learn to meet new people. Suspicion is the last thing that would help in meeting the next best friend in your life - love at first sight should be a common practice.

Why not give it a try? When you just meet someone, love them.

Moving House

2009-07-22T04:07:00.000-07:00

Moving House

Bear with the indulgent language used in this one. Epiphanies were aplenty through this post, and yet it feels so incomplete, as if I have more to say about our home in the west...

I've been affectionately recognising Dunman High as my second home for the past four years. I'd fully embraced its humble yet stirring ideologies that have been passed to us through various seemingly pointless assembly talks, and had turned down the opportunity to take the well beaten path to VJC's IP simply because "it felt right". It wouldn't be absurd to claim a moral attachment to my school.

As luck would have it, I was in the batch which had the privilege of being in all three campuses we've had since Year 1. Tanjong Rhu itself was a place where we started a educational journey that was more than educational. Its familiarity was something I couldn't help but notice in many seniors and teachers alike, where identifying locations of rooms come as second nature, almost a reflex. It turned out to be contagious.

So it was with reluctant, longing fingers that most of us had finally pried ourselves off the Tanjong Rhu campus as it underwent its makeover in fair '06. I believe I speak for many when I say that every moss covered rock, paint peeled wall, shoe marked tile and rusty door was pure, uncontaminated heritage. Yet improvement was necessary to make way for growth, and 800 more students was the number that the campus couldn't accommodate. We had to relocate to the faraway land of Buona Vista.

"Buona where?" was the first thing that came to mind. The second was whether the MRT was ever going to reach that stop. DHSSC Street Chase was at full steam ahead, and upon reaching the campus grounds, I was wondering if there was any chance the school management might change their mind about the whole upgrading thing.

Upon reaching, the school was a dreary sight - the ivy clung to the walls desperately, almost screaming at me to leave them alone. Windows lucky enough to remain in one piece held its dust like a curtain, hiding the rooms behind them. We searched for the rooms that we were told to look for, but only found nothing but rooms filed with debris, depression and dread.

The second time I reached that campus, it had gotten a slight facelift, and looked a tad more pleasant. Yet its corridors and rooms remained somewhat a labyrinth. Half an hour of catching with people who arrived for DHShine planning early (Of course we were early - who knew how long it'd take to get there from the East?) later, we still couldn't find our way around.

Why were there half-stories everywhere? Why are so many rooms underground? Why is my classroom so far from the canteen? Why is my classroom so far from anything? Why are some floors so uneven? Why are the staff rooms so far apart? Why is the canteen so small? Why is the hall even smaller? Why is the foyer so hot and stuffy? Why are the toilets so smelly?

Why on earth did we come to this campus?

Yet slowly, almost imperceptibly, a map of the school was forming in each of our heads. It wasn't long before we started to remember which science labs we had to go to. People had their own shortcuts, their own paths they always insist on taking when walking from the basketball court back to class. We had to pass by the path. We always walk past 2A-D when we go to the staff room. Slowly, it was Tanjong Rhu all over again, but somewhat more.

Loving the campus was something that grew on me. Event by event different run-down locations in the school like the Lecture Theatres 2 and 3 held fond and painful memories for me. Till now I feel I could sit in a room alone, and spend simple fleeting hours remembering what the campus had provided us with, despite its declining exterior. The warmth was never left behind in Tanjong Rhu - through teachers, through students, through (personally) councillors, Buona Vista became a home.

On the final days of my Year 3 years I felt a certain unexplainable longing to remain there. Lunch at Ghim Moh with classmates and other friends had become a ritual that I couldn't shake off. The homeliness of the campus now stuck to me stronger than moss on the walls. Something about the uneven tiles disturbed by thick roots had an old charm to it, as with the trees that shed their picture-perfect brown leaves around the basketball court. So many rooms that we inhabited, even the tiny SC room, was so precious. We couldn't leave this place - it was home.

Cruel fate uproots as and places us back into Tanjong Rhu's campus. Yet it mysteriously becomes a stranger to us, where upon entering we had to remember our manners. After 2 years of making ourselves at home in the laidback Buona Vista, decorum was asked from Tanjong Rhu - sit up straight, smile politely and use the right cutlery. Don't burp, laugh too loudly or you might get a stern look from the host. We had to behave prim and proper, yet it was the same campus, only bigger and newer.

Perhaps that warmth that we had hasn't fully permeated the whole campus itself yet. Perhaps a few more orientations, a few more camps, rule-breaking adventures, studying sessions and ball games might do the trick. Perhaps in another decade, we might find ourselves clawing to stay in this campus as it undergoes yet another transformation...

10 Photos From My Phone

2009-07-05T00:12:00.000-07:00

10 Photos From My Phone

Not necessarily top 10, though.

For those who don't know, my phone has been with me for the most part of the last 1 and a half years, and I've been snapping away at the most random of sceneries and objects. It's amazing what I can capture within 2 megapixels and less, really. I've kept them in my computer and phone, and some of you may have had the chance to browse through. Since I have absolutely no idea what to blog about this time, why not let the photos do a little bit of talking?

1. Taken: DHShine '07 Dry Run

Step by step we take

Hoping, wishing, all goes well

Watching for a sign.

2. Taken: DHS Hostel CNY Love Letter Making Session

1. Stir batter into preheated oven.

2. Bake for 2 minutes. Flip over.

3. Remove from oven and quickly but gently roll over.

4. Serve with love.

3. Taken: HTNS Shooting Range, 42 Days before Nationals.

Load, wait, take a deep breath.

Right hand on grip, left hand right below the cylinder.

Take another deep breath, lift.

Gun to shoulder, right below the neck.

Think calm. Think calm. Think calm.

Alignment check. Cheek in, but gently.

Pause. Wait. Patience. More pressure on the finger.

And right when the sights align.

Trigger.

Hold it there, just to follow through.

Only then, put the gun down.

Load, wait, take a deep breath...

4. Taken: Somewhere in Ghim Moh, after DHSOlympics '08 Dry Run

"Run and keep up" is all we're told

Racing towards some future unknown

How can the advice be wrong, ancient and old?

We're like children to them, children of their own.

Yet what if they're wrong?

What if its fake?

What if all of it's a lie - just like the cake?

Our legs go round and round,

yet we're going nowhere fast.

We're not making ground,

so what's so bad about last?

5. Taken: Fast+Fresh Preliminaries Round 2

Don't eat the apple
Don't eat the apple
Don't eat the apple
Don't eat the apple

6. Taken: SC Survivor 08

The truth is that teamwork is at the heart of great achievement.

-John Maxwell

7. Taken: I have absolutely no idea.

Oh Glory God - God is peeking through the blinds.

Are we all here standing naked

Taking guesses at the actual date and time?

8. Taken: SConquer 09

Unite and Conquer!

9. Taken: Right After Legendary Leaders Summit 2008

"Don't Forget Your VAMS!"

Thank you Coach Isaac!

<3>

10. Taken: During worship practice, Sometime last year. (That's a songsheet by the way)

Even so, let your light shine before men;

That they may see your good works,

And glorify your Father

Who is in heaven.

Matthew 5:16

Top 10 Ways to Fake That H1N1 Infection

2009-06-25T08:45:00.000-07:00

Top 10 Ways to Fake That H1N1 Infection

Or should the title be really "Top 10 Ways to Get An Extra Week For Homework"?

In the face of competition from a fellow listpost competitor (Don't think I can't top yours, Yong Kit), there is no way I am not blogging about the hottest topic on the mouths of taxi drivers, businessmen, teachers, worried parents and disappointed students like most of us here - the unstoppable, rampaging H1N1.

Oh the tragedy - its as if we were kicked down the bottomless pit of the financial crisis when we were slowly clawing our way back up again. But that's not the only bad thing that's looming upon our lives this period of time. It's as if life is just a sick joke, and the punchlines are always targetted at us. Guess what guys, the holidays are over!

I know - It barely got started, what with the homework that we all received as going-away presents at the end of Term 2. And just when we finally edge our way through that pile to peek through at the sun that we longed to see, all we get is a bloody pathetic feeling, finding out that it had just set.

But for every cloud there's a silver lining, and for every disease, an... er... innocent strand of DNA. If you think long and hard enough, this is the perfect time to extend our days of sleeping late into the day. "How?" you may ask. There are so many ways, so many ideas, and it's all a matter of where you want to start. However, for the uninitiated, allow me to give you some of my ideas to get your mind on the right track. Through a listpost, of course.

Top 10 Ways to Fake That H1N1 Infection

1. Bring a bag of keychains with the bold words "Made In Australia" for your friends.

2. "Yeah, my class chalet was near Aloha near end June. Why?"

3. Blog about your trip to Canada.

4. When your teacher asks you for your travel declaration form, give him the whole stack.

5. Or maybe just a very long list.

6. Tell your PE teacher you brought the wrong shirt and ask for permission to use it. Walk back calmly in your "I <3 HK" shirt.

7. Wear a face mask to school~~, and in your creepiest voice, walk up to the people staring at you and whisper "Why... So... Curious...?"~~

8. When asked about the most exciting thing that you did for the holiday, simply go "Oh well, nothing much, but the internship at Tan Tock Seng was pretty cool..."

9. Let's work in a team here - Had a classmate who actually followed this list? Organise a class outing.

And the Number 1, guaranteed way to get that extra week of bliss?

10. During temperature taking at mass lecture, scream "thirty-eight point nine?"

PARABLES GOTTA CATCH'EM ALL

2009-06-24T03:28:00.000-07:00

PARABLES GOTTA CATCH'EM ALL

Before I start, I'll have to admit this - I wanted to do a post going along the lines of How-to-fake-your-own-H1N1-infection listpost, which is probably going to be the hot topic for conversation among ~~slackers~~ students and workers alike for the next few weeks. However, unforeseen circumstances kicked in, and I could not put off blogging about the most exciting thing that has happened to me this year - Church camp.

I've never had a more fulfilling camp. Not even Legendary Leaders Summit. Somehow, despite the many budget and logistical restraints we faced, it felt like the most satisfying, fun, memorable and best camp I've had in a long time. It's hard to explain, almost like something magical was at work - Something miraculous.

Despite all odds and diseases, the 4 Day 3 Night event was saturated with memories, teachings and fun. Amidst friends that I had since childhood (and maybe even when I was in diapers), even the simplest games crack us up and kept us awake long into the night. I'm only starting to appreciate the friendship that's been building for slowly in church.

Doing logistics has always been a challenge. Anyone from SC should know well that I'm not cut out for such a job - I've never been a pen and paper guy. Thank God Mirabell was. With help from a few last minute chauffeurs, arrangements and ideas, we were able to keep the campers and committee well fed and happy (I hope). Doing logistics has always been a challenge - But I thank the people that made this a great new experience.

I seldom get grouped with the crazily-high people in a camp, which is probably a good thing, as I highly doubt I'd have the energy to keep up. However, it's funny to notice how groups can quietly start to grow closer within a few days without any obvious sign or a complicated/loud/ridiculous cheer to declare such. Kiska taught me clearly how bonds can be forged subtly and strengthen invisibly, and are in no way inferior to bonds built upon numbers representing points or cheers representing camp themes or team names. My camp group this time had somewhat of a chance like that as well, and it's so great to find that feeling somewhere else again after Kiska had to split up.

Time goes by so quick its almost scary. That few days felt like it was stretched into an eternity, and step by step it felt like I was being watched over by somebody up there. How amazing was that feeling, how refreshing and rejuvenating that experience. 4 hours of sleep in the past 30 hours and I'm still yearning to serve so much more (Woohoo Saturday worship prac).

One thing is for sure though - I'm at an all new high as a Christian.

Ok I know - this isn't my usual tone or topic choice is it? Well live with it - listposts take an insane amount of thinking!

Make It Mine.

2009-06-03T00:34:00.000-07:00

Make It Mine.

"We all have goals and dreams in life, you know, we have a goal, a destination. But you can't just appear at that destination - you've gotta have a journey. You've gotta have a journey to get there. You've gotta have a montage of sequences where you're working hard to get where you wanna go.'

8 Ways to Get That Level Camp Feeling

2009-05-18T01:42:00.000-07:00

8 Ways to Get That Level Camp Feeling

It's a tragedy, it is. Just less than a month ago, a few of us were eagerly looking forward to 18th May - The very day we set off for far-away Malaysia for our fourth level camp. Of course, some weren't as eager as others, not exactly liking the idea of public showering, sleeping in the forest or sloshing about in leech infested mud.

For me, it was all "oh, been there, done that" since our SC Camp last year. The leeches aren't so scary, the food isn't too bad, it actually gets pretty damn cold at night and it isn't all that boring. Of course, I'm not looking forward to the showering cubicles without the cubicles, but that's just a minor thing. For me, I was actually rather looking forward to it.

Yet fate has a cruel sense of humour. Or what some could call compassion. H1N1 got a little way out of hand, and before you know it - *poof*. Level camp's gone.

It's almost a crime, making over a thousand people wait a year in anticipation of getting a week to simply have the wildest fun possible with your class, and having all that go up in smoke. Sure, they couldn't risk having the whole level quarantined, and Malaysia did end up hacing 2 cases of H1N1. Still, it really sucks to end up having lessons instead.

So that is why I came up with this list - For all you people who want level camp, follow my list to the letter and I guarantee you an experience like no other. As for the "not so eager" ones... well just read it anyway.

8 Ways to Get That Level Camp Feeling

1. Gather your classmates. Get on a bus. Sneak out a pack of cards.

2. Right before you eat, get your friends to chant with you - "Food, food, yummy, yummy..."

3. Pitch a tent in your living room.

4. Wear your Level Camp Shirt instead of your uniform.

5. Insist that the "HCL" in your timetable is actually High-ropes Climbing Lessons

6. When the teacher asks you where is your homework, you say "I left it in my tent"

7. If anyone tells you that level camp is cancelled, stare at them strangely.

And the top, number one, best way to get that level camp feeling?

8. Call in sick.

Have a great level camp!

Why so serious?

2009-04-24T07:37:00.000-07:00

Why So Serious?

Honestly, what has this world come to? Why is this happening? Amidst this tough period of time, the things that are dying are not our bank accounts, not our brain cells, and shockingly, not ourselves either. But of all things, it has to be blogs.

First of all, your Honour, I plead innocent. Yes your honour, like I said - stopping2think committed suicide. No your honour, I had no part in its death in any way at all. No. Oh, I'm not really edging closer to the door your honour, maybe its the heat getting to you. Dear me, your honour, does it really look like I'm trying to escape this courtroom? You are such a humorous... Alright fine. Guilty.

Let me explain myself sir, you see - ~~My father was a drinker~~ I started stopping2think simply as a joke. Well maybe not so much to be a joke, but to show people that INFJs have a ~~superior~~ decent sense of humour. Then, just like any other bad habit, it grew. My mind was hooked, and it started taking a little more free time every single week. From then on, stopping2think turned into my very own dumping ground of thoughts. With some selection and filtering involved, of course.

But then, all good things come to an end. Schoolwork caught up. An avalanche of stress and a pandemic of long-term panic later, blogs were simply part of the wastelands left behind in a war that involved everyone's minds conquered by school. Of course, there are others that had no problem surviving the onslaught of school-related stress, but like any other contradictory point in a History essay I shall conveniently leave these out.

So I had accomplices too, and no way they're getting off scot free. (I'm referring to ieatpinkmoons.blogspot.com, jiandaoshitoubu.blogspot.com, living-freedom.blogspot.com, teh-unkown.blogspot.com, found-anangel.blogspot.com, miraclesofhate.blogspot.com, and many, many others.) Blogs have been dropping off the internet like numbers off the STI (That's the Singapore Trade Index, in case you wanted to google that) since last year. Oh sure, the writers were depressed and all, but we've all heard that somewhere or another. And the most ironic thing is that aren't blogs supposed to make people, well, not depressed?

That is why I appeal, I beseech, I plead all of you bloggers - Don't leave your poor blogs to rot in cyberspace! Fight the good fight, and have a little fun on the way. Blogging is practically one of the few things left that are fun, pleasant but not condemned. That is, assuming you don't have the constant urge to hurl unsettling comments at specific racial groups, of course.

So ask yourself - Why so serious? Don't let little things in life get you down by brooding over them. Take a humorous approach; Blog a little about it. And maybe, just maybe, you might feel a little better about it.

Blogging again soon.

Quiz

2009-02-19T04:11:00.000-08:00

I Knew It.

Your Personality is Very Rare (INTP)

Your personality type is goofy, imaginative, relaxed, and brilliant.

Only about 4% of all people have your personality, including 2% of all women and 6% of all men

You are Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceiving.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

I've never posted this kind of quizzes before but damn. No wonder I don't have any close friends.

10 Reasons Why I Couldn't Go Out on Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T02:54:00.000-08:00

10 Reasons Why I Didn't Go Out on Valentine's

Roses are #FF0000,

violets are #0000FF,

all my base are belong to you!

When I went to Tampines to get my shooting suit from Grace earlier, I noticed something strange at the MRT, which took me awhile to place. Why is everyone in pairs like animals waiting to get on Noah's Ark? Oh right. It's Valentine's, I mentally slapped my own forehead. It was honestly quite an awkward moment with myself - The only reason that I'm out of my house on this day was to get a smelly, heavy piece of you-know-what.

But oh well, it's not like I have anyone to go out with for Valentine's anyway (Although many will try to argue this.). I've better things to do, like *sob* homework.

Yet I'm aware that there're a number of you out there who're in the same plight as me, and a tad more sensitive about it. Shocking isn't it? How someone can stay at home watching TV on the most romantic (And expensive) day on earth? Such a thing can never be known. But how can we cover up our abscence at parties and restaurants? Empty facebook albums will give us away Maybe it'll be safer if we try to provide reasons saying that we couldn't go. Wouldn't that be better than admitting to having no one to whisper sweet little nothings to? But even then, whatever shall we say?

Fear not, because as I have said just two days ago, stopping2think is baaaaack! Yes guys, that means that we have (Cue: Cheer) a listpost! Feel free to use any of these whenever someone asks why you didn't go out on Valentine's.

But do not email me when they don't work.

10 Reasons Why I ~~Didn't~~ Couldn't Go Out on Valentine's Day

1. Because every rose I buy is supporting globalisation

2. Because my friend lied to me and said The Little Nyonya was showing an alternative ending. Again.

3. Because she said that my hair not as spiky as before

4. Because that bloody hotel waiter with the kiam-pak face say I cannot chope my seat with tissue paper the last time I went there

5. Because my mother say cannot

6. Because I haven't finished my history essay

7. Because my eyeliner didn't match my shoes (Guys, please don't try this.)

8. Because I'm afraid she'll give me that look again when I introduce her to that famous lor mee stall in Bedok

9. Because my heart can't take the foie-gras as well as my girlfriend at the same time

10. Because the last time I went out for a Valentine's date my wallet had its own recession

Happy Valentine's!

For those who are looking for some friendship day-related content instead (Which I think is wayyy better than this post... I'm getting rusty at this): http://stopping2think.blogspot.com/2008/02/wheres-love.html

I'm baaaaack!

2009-02-11T04:33:00.000-08:00

I'm baaaaack!

"We sat there all night long, statues of horror and grief...

We were all at our limits - frenzied into absolute stillness...

My face felt permanently set into the fixed mask it had wore all night.
I wasn't sure I had to ability to smile anymore."

It feels good to finally break the silence. 5 weeks without a post is 5 weeks too long, and yes, I should have shoes thrown at me for such a crime to make readers wait, but lately that punishment seems more like a recognition of power (Wen Jia Bao, George Bush? Hello? Have you even read Time Magazine before using it to fold paper bowls?)

But yes, as the title says, I am back. Depression isn't an easy wall to climb, but like Randy Pausch says, "The brick walls are there to show how much you really want something."

I want happiness.

I've been lacking a good dose of endorphins lately. I don't really know why it took me so long, but I didn't seem to be myself for the past few weeks. Oh sure, I had ample reason to back up my the disappearance on this blog, but my dear crazy fans (Yes, stop laughing. I have fans.) would never accept any of it.

It was kind of like in some kind of coma, or maybe a headache. Except more painful, more annoying, more distracting and lasts way longer. And with my luck at that time any aspirin that I took would've probably been saturated in melamine.

But I promise you this - stopping2think is back. That means listposts. Weird reflections. Subjectively funny comments. The occasional pop reference. And all the optimism I used to have. Despite the flood of homework, the pressure of school, the stern eye of parents, the tiredness of going all the way to Bukit Gombak 3 times a week and back, stopping2think is back.

See you next week.

Direction for a Year

2009-01-01T00:17:00.000-08:00

A Year's Worth of Change
PG - Religion. Lots of it.

Sure, I may have stopped blogging for some time, but I haven't stopped thinking. As a matter of fact, I am thinking way more than usual these days.

I remember in my portfolio I had mentioned that 2008 would be a year of change. After all, why wouldn't it be? I was starting to lose passion for shooting, grow in SC, and I was going to be a senior to the Year 1s and 2s. Change isn't expected, its inevitable.

Boy, was I right.

I got what I expected, dreamed, thought would be impossible, and then some. Change was everywhere this year - I escaped from the dark side and filled my wardrobe with white shirts. Fnatic plummeted in standards, giving away their throne to SK and more surprisingly, mTw. Dunman High is back at Tanjong Rhu. Even the whole of USA had a (in my opinion) pretty healthy dose of change.

Somehow, I get the feeling that change is far from over though. With the start of the financial crisis, President Obama's term, and a turbulent forecast of Year 4 (just mine actually), change is going to be persistent throughout the next year. Change can be fun, and change can be nasty. I, to say the least, am scared to even think of what is going to happen.

Still, there isn't any way to stop the clock from ticking - pulling out its hands are just a lie. Like it or not, the holidays are over, and there's - yes, I'll say it - homework to be done. Projects to complete. Events to plan. A bleak life to endure. A God to worship.

Yet I have much to be thankful for in the past year. I've been blessed with so much. Friends to last a lifetime. Lessons that will be of more use to me than logarithms (No offence, Mr Lim!). A school that I will defend to death.

But the most important thing that I have to be thankful for is a newly discovered home - My church. I have to admit, for a few years church could sometime feel so much like a chore, and God an abstract concept that only fit into my identity on Sundays and before not all, but some of my meals. Good thing that God does have grace beyond all measure.

It all started with a book honestly. My aunt gave me a book for Christmas, and I was... not so delighted. That was before I flipped to page one. Soon, I was hooked. It wasn't exactly like the bible or the brochures meant for non-Christians - It was so much more specific, so much more relevant.

And I started to think about lately how church provided me with the much needed warmth I was lacking in my life. All of a sudden it hit me that I'd been cold as a christian, and searching for fire in wastelands, not seeing a flame flickering right in front of me. It's strange, I know. But then again, God works in mysterious ways, doesn't he?

So now I'm going to work hard. When God gives messages, he makes sure that message gets to you. I've been sent an invitation, an RSVP is what I'm going to give.

2009 will be my year for God.

The Rubber Band

2008-12-04T02:02:00.000-08:00

The Rubber Band

I haven't blogged in a few weeks. Oh sure, there're multiple reasons, mostly I'd not like to talk about. But know this - this post isn't meant just for me. It's meant for a certain few others. I haven't told you who you are, but after reading, I hope you do know.

Boy, do I get inspired when I'm emotionally drianed.

_____________________________________________________________

"A very warm welcome to you, our guest." The middle aged man in the suit greeted me.

I was rather shocked at this rather formal greeting, as I was simply expecting the standard what-do-you-want welcome, and hastily replied, "Err, thank you. I'd like to get a rubber band stretched."

"Ah, stretching a rubber band," the man nodded knowingly. "You have come to the right place. May I have the rubber band that you intend to get stretched?" He held out his hand.

I glanced at the band I held tightly in my palm. It was such a great rubber band the way it was. But it had to go through this. All rubber bands do. What else are rubber bands supposed to do?

I handed it over, fingers trembling a little.

The man picked it up delicately with two fingers, and gestured me to follow him through a door behind the counter he stood behind. I followed obediently and closed the door behind me.

I was led into a rather dark room, filled with the strangest of machines I have ever seen. It was a little larger than I'd expected, compared to the small size of the shop. Not wanting get lost in such a creepy place, I hurried my footsteps to follow the shopkeeper through the maze-like interior.

He stopped abruptly at a machine, and stretched the rubber band lightly over six tips sticking out of the top of the machine. Pressing a few buttons, the machine roared to life, before quieting down to a whir.

"This process is called the Primary Stretching. It's a standard stage for all rubber bands, and get's them... limbered up for any additional stretching steps afterwards. Very crucial." He explained to me.

I nodded, observing what was happening to my rubber band. The six tips formed a hexagon, and were slowly moving outwards before quickly contracting inwards, then outwards further, and back again. The rubber band was slowly getting bigger and bigger with each stretch.

After a few minutes, the machine slowed and shut off. The man lifted the rubber band delicately from the machine, and presented it to me. It looked... different. More flexible, and ready for more.

I was quite pleased with the results, and asked the man, "What's next?"

He held up the rubber band to his eyes. "I could take it for a Secondary Stretching - It had adapted to the Primary one well. Very well in fact." He commented, albeit rather absent-mindedly. After some form of deliberation, he concluded, "Definitely Division: High Standard."

He then walked off immediately, and I had to hurry to catch up with him. I wasn't sure what "Division: High Standard" meant, but I liked the sound of it.

We stopped at a different machine now - It was much larger than the first. What I thought was strange was that it did not have tips sticking out like the first machine. Instead, it had just four limb-like structures with a series of bends, with claw-like ends.

Pressing a button on the machine, the shopkeeper secured my rubber band to each of the claws. The machine then proceeded to start stretching the rubber bands in more than one direction. It was quite alarming, the large change.

"Will it be okay?" I asked, rather worried for my rubberband.

"Oh, yes, yes. Don't worry. This is something every rubberband goes through," the man reassured me again.

After a while, a blue light lit up on the side of the machine. I saw the man's eyebrow raise a notch, and couldn't help but inquire on the treatment my rubberband was going through.

"Congratulations Sir!" He seemed rather excited. "You, Sir, are a very lucky man indeed, for having such a great rubberband! The machine seemed to decide that the rubberband is suitable for the Super Complicated stretch - and it's even on the Extra Complication level!"

"That's... Good, right?" I asked wearily, taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm.

"It's magnificent!" He beamed, focusing on the rubberband. "Very lucky indeed."

I was a little stunned by the news, and happily turned to look at my rubberband again. The machine was using its limbs more violently now, even snapping it at times and pulling my rubberband at great speeds and lengths.

Don't worry, you'll be better after this.

My rubberband didn't even seem to hear me, and started to look... Different. It didn't seem to have that tenacity anymore, that elasticity I knew. Yet I could not stop the process. Every rubberband had to go through this. I tried to make things better for myrubberband, comforting it now and then.

Don't worry, you'll be better after this.

But the rubberband didn't seem to hear me. I anxiously asked the shopkeeper, "How long more? How long more before this ends?"

He gave a little frown, and answered, "I'm not sure, might take a few more months - 7 or 8 possibly."

I turned back and looked at my rubberband. Hang in there. Don't worry, you'll be better after this.

Don't worry.

You'll be better.

Stay strong.

I'm right here.

We'll do this together.

Don't worry.

Moving Day

2008-11-12T02:33:00.000-08:00

Moving Day

Packing the SC Room is a horrible job.

Wait, did I just say that? Let's try that again.

Packing the SC Room is a horrible job.

Looks like that idea's going to stick. Don't blame me though, the sheer adventure of such a task is way too much for an average 15 year old to handle.

The SC Room has been hidden away in a corner of the school, sandwiched by the massive, comfortable CO Room, and the neat, orderly kept NPCC Room. Oh the irony. As fate loves a good joke every now and then, it was only natural that the SC Room had to be the sore thumb sticking out between these two well kept CCA Rooms.

Over the years the original SC Room back in Tanjong Rhu had collected its fair share of memorablia from each school event, and then some. Apparently, every single batch of SCs had been hoping that our cozy little (and I mean little) SC room would somehow grow to accomodate every single logistic that we throw in. That, or we used to have a closet with Narnia hidden inside.

So it was inevitable that one day a certain batch of SCs would finally decide that some things just had to go. We had to put our food down, and turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to each and every item's pleads to allow them to stay inside. After all, how else could another decade of Student Councillors be able to continue storing the most random of items inside the Room?

It was tough sometimes, deciding what to do with certain items found. Did we find a ragged, old shirt that nobody would every want to wear again, or a precious remaining piece of history marking an early pioneered event? Most of the time, the painful decision ended up in the former.

We did manage to salvage the string of shirts taken from various events past that were hung up along the window of the Room, the same way corridors in mansions are often lined with portraits of family ancestors or past inhabitants. They weren't just shirts - they were heritage.

It took some time, beads of sweat and a whole lot of space in the rubbish bin to finally clear out the items that we decided we didn't need anymore. Although the packing was not finished (Only the blazers were all in their respective boxes), it was heartening to see how much we had achieved, yet a small tinge of pity was present when I saw the small pile that would have to go through another check.

Actually, cleaning the SC Room isn't all that horrible. It's abit like going through a time capsule - any small find excites all of us inside the Room, and then we get spurred on to search a little bit more, discovering what else lay inside the room. Despite the fact that nobody could take five steps in any direction without touching the wall, the Room held its charm with the occasional memento from a year or two back.

It was almost magical, the whole experience, and really is an experience that strengthens any councillor's bond to the council. The Room's collection of treasures never failed to suprise and delight every now and then. It turned a job into an adventure. Perhaps, in its own way, our SC Room does hold a Narnia after all.

Testify.

2008-11-05T19:09:00.000-08:00

Testify

This post has a different writing style, and also a very different basis for content. It was something that I had to share, no matter what. I guess only a few of you know I was on on 31st October - even then you may not remember. Ignore or enjoy - your choice.

31st October

I woke up to feeling the urge not to wake up. It was around seven thirty in the morning, and it was drizzling lightly outside. Perfect conditions for a longer sleep.

Fate isn't so merciful though, and the weather affected my mood as well. The day ahead seemed longer than usual, and no brighter than the overcast skies that stretched further than I could see.

I got into an auto-pilot routine again, and was soon ready to leave my house. I trudged along and listened to crunch whenever my foot made contact with the gravel. It was all so hopeless - a rhythm that wouldn't stop, the only change is that it got louder and louder, closer and closer. Were we prepared?

I reached the MRT, crawling up the stairs instead of my usual jog, two steps at a time. No motivation, I guess.

The day didn't get any happier; I was still worried and wondering how things were going to turn out. For the first time I wished the MRT would arrive later instead. With my luck, it arrived in two minutes, full and packed with commuters.

I squeezed my way in, fortunate enough to find a corner where i wouldn't be threatened by the sliding doors. The people shuffled in and out, and soon, it was mostly clear of people.

I gave a sigh, picking my spot right at the corner, facing away from the train station. I leaned my head against the glass, ignoring the cold touch, and closed my eyes, praying.

I do pray. Often. But seldom do I pray with a worried thought in my head. Seldom do I pray with desperation gripping me and tightening slowly, almost as if I was drowning.

A sign, God. That's all I ask. Just a sign to know that you're with me, that you haven't abandoned me to be alone. A sign that I can hold onto so that I can be sure you will help me along for the next few days.

Yet I had to admit I was afraid. For a few stops I kept repeating those words, and kept hestitating to open my eyes - What if there was nothing? I couldn't face it.

But after awhile, I had mustered up enough courage to peek. Slowly my eyelids lifted, and light poured through the windows. Hearing the speaker announce the station, I realised the train moved quickly - Faster than I'd thought. I was at queenstown.

I looked out the window. I'd passed this place almost every schooling day for the past 2 years, but I got a shock. Right at the window, directly within my line of sight were three words. They were not anything amazing or inspirational, but what was amazing was how I somehow only saw the first word.

"Faith Methodist Church."

I prayed again, but with a different purpose.

Cause and Effect

2008-10-21T03:58:00.000-07:00

Cause and Effect

The past two days have been bittersweet for each of us I guess. After all, every single thing that we do in our lives will unfailingly come back and end up nipping us in the... erm... hiney. In this case, that'd be the exams. Yes, guys, the exams. The havoc wrecked in your minds the past few marking days may have removed all traces of bad memories, but they never go away just like that. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, every cause will lead to an effect.

I'll skip the going-through exams part. We all know what it was like:

"Shit, I got 79 only."

"How many hundred you got?"

"Eh I passed leh. Want go buy 4D?"

"Eh how much you got?" "You don't want to know lah..." "Just tell me lah, what you scared of?" "Err... 84." "Walao why you so like that one?" "Tell you you don't want to know liao!"

Bitter indeed.

I flopped both Maths, got a little disappointed with Physics, Bio and LA, shocked that I passed Chem, wasn't too surprised at HCL and realised how God can work in such mysterious ways in History. Overall? I feel indifferent yet satisfied.

I've long gotten over the times where marks haunted my every though in the last quarter of the year. "It's not worth it" was the conclusion I came to after a few days of sulking. After all, in a few months time, the most probable thing that'll happen is that I'll look back, remember my marks and laugh it off. There's nothing to bother me except a few numbers that others share too - It's not a divine prediction of your future.

No, this post isn't really for me, but for those who still that tang of annoyance or are fully concentrated on that possible C,D or F appearing in their report book next week. It's one thing to take your exams seriously, its another to let it take you over. Don't lose sight of other aspects of school, other aspects of life. I failed Maths 2, but I don't see people in the streets holding signs saying "DOOMSDAY IS COMING, ~~REPENT~~ STUDY BEFORE ITS TOO LATE".

So take the holidays to relax, recuperate, restore those heavily abused gray matter. It's a time to have fun and feed our minds and souls for a change, with your CCAs, outings with friends, and stopping2think blogposts. Be ready for the next year. Remember that the grade is not a death sentence - it's an alarm clock ringing for your next year paper.

And don't you dare hit the snooze button after your 2 month nap.

A Little Colour has Returned

2008-10-14T05:01:00.001-07:00

A Little Colour has Returned

Yes, it definitely has, and I am in no small way feeling more relieved than ever.

Don't rush to click that X on the top right hand corner - This is still stopping2think. I know I'm so slow with updates nowadays that you check back here expecting to see nothing at all, but all of a sudden there's a post AND a new blogpic. Almost as shocking as seeing Sean not on a bad hair day.

I'm proud of the picture that I made. It was by far the art piece that took the longest for me to make so far, what with spending a half hour each day *coughduringexamcoughperiodcoughcough* just to work on this and destress a little.

The exams are no doubt a darker part of all our lives that we're all happy to leave behind, and I'm sure that there are many of you who are going mad over the newfound freedom. I had a crazy day out too, which summarised into 75 words or less, starting with the words "I went out..." will look like: I went out with Gillian, Tong Wei, Sara, Shuqi and Jia Teck supposedly to watch a movie but ended up walking to NYDC in Holland Village before a sudden decision to go to Vivo where we still didn't watch a movie and ended up surprising Kiat Shing with a birthday cake at Kembengan as well as a muscle cramp before I headed home while they had enough energy to continue chatting at his house.

Exams give us crazy ideas indeed. But yet there's an emptiness left behind by the absence of studying. Whatever will we spend our late nights doing now that we don't have Hitler and binomials to fret over? A few of us have ideas planned out already, while others are still trying to let the truth set in - We have free time now.

For those who haven't thought of what to do, worry not - You are, after all, reading my blog, which will provide a phenomenal amount of entertainment over a long period of time. Kidding. Actually, I have prepared a few ideas on what to do, but I'm sure you don't want to see them. It isn't all that interesting anyway...

Aw, they're not that good... Are they? Tsk, you say the nicest things. Well then, if you insist, then here I go again: stopping2think presents yet another list that nobody will probably follow but read for no reason again.

10 Things to do after the exams

1. Do your laundry. Out, damn spot, out I say!

2. Go to the library, sit at the study section, and point and laugh at every person who holds a textbook.

3. Update your blogs (That means you - Tong Wei, Sean, Sara, Jane etc etc etc)

4. Don't have a blog? Get one.

5. Write a nice play that gets into the curriculum for a long time. Then release a full exam-proof analysis. Wait for profits.

6. Return to school, and start taking photos of your classroom. You'll miss them, trust me.

7. Screw the rules

8. Take that long needed trip to the LAN you've been wanting

9. Pick up that new skill you wanted to learn (Instrument, sport...)

10. Suck up to your parents before you get your papers back.

Whatever it is, please, please, please enjoy yourselves. We all deserve this. Happy after exams guys! We have a whole lot waiting ahead for us.

The Rednecks (Exams) are Coming!

2008-09-24T02:27:00.000-07:00

10 Reasons to Study. Now.

Wow, I never left my blog for such a long time during the schooling terms, and it seems I've pretty much left for it to fend for its own with the tagboard (which is in critical condition). The only reason to blog for some time was on the SC blog, and boy is it tough. I never knew colour-coordination took more brain juice than listposts. Or maybe that's just my bad sense of art.

So we're just a week shy of the dread (cue DUM-DUMDUM scary music) exams. Like it or not, the annual plague's returning, now with twelve the pressure, twelve the stress, since we're all thrown into the hall to take our papers as a level. What a comforting thought for level-bonding.

It's a tragedy for all to face, maybe even worse than that of the ban of white-rabbit candies. That integral part of our childhood seems to be the cause of the loss of many others. I do remember my parents telling me "Dont' eat the paper! Don't eat the paper!". Of course, I ate it anyway.

It's a tragedy that the year 4s, fortunately (for them), have completed and gone through the past few weeks, and are highly likely at this moment indulging in various activities that are designed to drain every drop of information that they've poured into their brain the past few weeks.

The tragedy, however, is not over for the year 3s. That's us guys. Stop looking around with that innocent look on your face. Come to think of it, you shouldn't even be here! No, don't talk back to me, I've got the right to be here."But why?" you ask. Well, it's really for the benefit of those of you who do not have to willpower of studying, and have decided for god-knows-what reason to seek entertainment in my blog.

So here I go again, having to cook up another list for the enjoyment of bloghoppers such as you. This time, it's not going to be useless, heavens no. I'm going to tell you exactly why you have to dig out that half empty chemistry file and start panicking before the dreaded 3rd October arrives.

stopping2think presents yet another 10-minute time-wasting list(but for once with a purpose).

6. You don't want to give the talk "The benefits of taking O'Levels instead of DHP" at Speech Day.

5. You need good grades to get the famed 5Cs. The Cs in your report book don't count.

4. You fail, you have to study during holidays. And we all know what happened to Josh from BBYD when he got that.

3. You do well, you get rewarded. You do badly, you get white-rabbit candy.

2. What better way to put this into use?

And the number 1, most important and crucial reason to start studying?

1. You don't want your reason for doing badly to be "...But I was reading Samuel's blog!"

Now, get out of here, and good luck!

"Don't want leh?"

2008-08-29T00:43:00.000-07:00

Thankless Job.

It may not be September 1st, but that never stops anyone from celebrating the well remembered Teachers' Day. Note the apostrophe after the letter "s" guys, that's the way it's meant to be spelled. Yes, after a quick 12 months, teacher's day is back all over again, cards, costumes and all.

I'd never really looked forward to Teachers' Day, nor have I ever thought of it as something memorable, but then again all that wasn't meant for a student in the first place. So once again, I had thought that it was simply a matter of enduring the performances and activities before finally being able to leave, just like last year.

But no. Not this year. After being a Student Councillor, life never looks the same anymore. Beyond the pointless games, the horrible singers, the technical-problem-plagued perfomances always lie something that we should all learn, something that we all overlook. Well maybe not for the horrible singers (Yes, the band who played Move Along today. I'm looking at you. I used to like that song.)

From the morning the whole thing was pretty hectic, what with not being sure when to pass the gifts to the chairpersons and all, but stole some time to return to my classroom and finally see Xue Xun for the first time in weeks.

The concert was... what you can expect of a concert for a secondary school, I guess.

But there was something that struck me quite abruptly right before the concert started. I had the job of "security guard" at the entrance of the hall, and was asking if some of the teachers could "kindly move to the other entrance when they enter so that this one wouldn't be too congested". Mr Noel Yap, who was nearby, jokingly mentioned the words "Don't want leh?", and gave that trademark smile he had.

Yes, he was joking, but that comment had given me quite a revelation. Normally, those three words would only be uttered by uncooperative students who never saw the reason to listen to instructions. Instructions of the teachers. After all, who likes to be told what to do? Yet now I was the "teacher" giving the "students" instructions, and if the "students" put their feet down and refused to move, what am I, the "teacher", ever going to do?

Teaching, such a thankless job.

We all know of teachers that influenced us greatly in our lives. I've already mentioned a few in my New Year Eve post last year, and do have many more that I can include in my next. But all of them, good or bad, humanities or science, language or maths, have been the potters moulding our lives and our futures in school, whether we like it or not. Some prefer to completely take our shape and mould it the way they see fit, while others think that we only need a little bit of shaping to bring out our potentially. In any case, they are all aiming to see us end up as a highly valued product.

Thank you, teachers.

Good Day

2008-08-02T04:49:00.000-07:00

Good Day.

I woke up early in my hotel room, waited for my alarm to go. (Excuse the corny lyrics reference. If you don't get it, google my title.) But to my shock and horror, contrary to the song, I wasn't in any fancy 5-star hotel room, with a half eaten room-service dinner on my ivory table next to my fluffy, king-sized bed with enough pillows to suffocate myself. And there wasn't an alarm either. I jumped out of bed, and checked the time - 7:50. Boy, am I going to be late.

So I quickly rushed out and made my way to Harbourfront. I was too tuned into my phone's music that I almost didn't notice Yu/Yi Siang/Xiang waiting for latecomers at the gantry. They leaped into my path - It's kind of hard to not see that. So I was pointed in the right direction, and got my less-than-healthy breakfast of instant noodles.

After that, we set off for the Southern Ridges, and supposedly had to look out for certain things to take pictures of. Somehow along the way, we started to have too much fun parkouring/watching Yixiang and Yusiang parkouring/photo taking that we forgot about that activity.

I remember the part where we had to walk along a wall next to the road through a long winding path. It was fun, although not really exciting in any manner. It's just the thought of doing something that you normally don't do, waving at the people who're driving by - It's just something so special, so memorable, so... blogworthy. If there's such a word.

Sometime in the middle of the walk I started to notice how Super Mario-like what we were doing was, with only the choice of going forward and backward, and that you can only go backward for a short distance since the "wall" of the game always moves up whenever you move forward in the game. In this case, that "wall" would be the people behind you. And then there were the gaps in the wall we had to jump over. I played the Super Mario song, just to complete the mood.

So sadly, the walk had to end just like any game that we play (Unless, of course, the game happens to be Tetris, which I happen to hate with a passion), since we'd reached the end of the wall. Then came Super Mario Level 2 Nature Rumble, where we had to walk on a sligthly narrower ledge next to the road, with plants blocking your path occasionally. It wasn't as interesting, as the novelty was wearing off.

After some time, we finally reached Henderson Waves, our first major destination. There was a frenzy for some time of cam-whoring at the curved walls, where we all kept running up to grab the top ledge and hang on to it. No prizes for which 2 parkour fanatics came up with the idea.

A few nice pictures and lots of water later, we finally left the Henderson Waves to move on.

We also had Gillian's imaginary tea-party at a small pavillion we found, and went on to the Terrace Gardens (Or The-race Gardens, as the 2 siangs loved to call it). There was also a deceptively long 1km walk to Hort Gardens above the treetops. The sight was beautiful, short of breathtaking only by the sight of the ubran buildings peaking above the trees.

Hort Parks was fun in its own way. It was something like a cross between a real park and an air-conditioned exhibition. It was more relaxing, feeding fishes, relaxing in the mock house built with the theme of nature in mind, and taking a short breather.

The day ended with a lunch at the rooftops of Vivocity. All of a sudden, I realised that the very last time that I see the Exco still as the Exco was the same place I saw the Exco first - the Street Chase pit stop.

The "think" in stopping2think kicked in, and when that happens, you've got to stop for awhile. To be honest, I had hoped for a lot more people to come for this outing. It wasn't just an outing, it was the last chance that our council for the past 12 months would have to go out, terrorise the public, and be proud of the fact that we're doing it together, all while we're still officially year 2/3/4s.

But I've been learning (maybe a little too much) lately that Murphy was onto something with his famed law. I guess its pretty much impossible to not meet with dissapointment and possibly failure. It's a lesson that hurts, just like how you learn when to stop eating your Pringles with a pint of Ben Jerry's Cheesecake Brownie when you rush to the toilet for the 12th time.

To end it off, I have to, have to, have to really thank all those who went. It was memorable in its way, just like any other SC event. Maybe even more so. I've found out for myself that no SC event happens without any meaning. They give us our lessons, our friendships, our memories. Memories that I'll bring with me on to Tuesday, December, 2010 and beyond.

I had a good day indeed.

music test

2008-07-11T02:44:00.000-07:00

stopping2think - Degraded.

Hell yeah. You'd notice the number lack of posts that have been coming up on this hallowed blog, especially during the June holidays. Really now, my blog runs on 100% pure inspiration, no MSG, and I didn't get much of that during holidays since almost everything was touch-and-go, with hardly any time to sit down to type out a nice comforting reflection.

And what more to say about listposts? They take even more planning and inspiration than the normal reflection kind, more planning and inspiration than you think it takes. Fun as it is to write and read, it's causing global warming and acts a real time killing machine all at the same time.

So for once, stopping2think ran out of ideas. What do we diss next? What has come and gone that I can talk about? When is April Fool's Day coming again? Nobody, nothing, not anytime soon.

And that is why we have a real treat here - The famed music test going around. Not the one where we whack desperately at a kompang while the music teacher plasters on a smile and makes us think the racket we hear is slightly more sophsticated than just noise, heavens no. The one where you play with the shuffle on your phone.

Without further ado - stopping2think presents to you the first ever (*sob*) so over-whored blog item its ever used. Answers are all truthful. Comments hidden in white.

RULES:

1. Put Your iTunes, Windows Media Player, ETC on Shuffle.

2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.

3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.

4. Put any comments in brackets after the song name.

5. Put this on your journal.

Here it goes.

1. If someone says, "Is this okay?" You say? Feel Good Inc. Makes sense somewhat,and since I'm normally a ~~pushover~~ agreeable and all...

2. How would you describe yourself? All Star Could work actually, but sounds pretty proud somewhat.

3. What do you like in a guy/girl? 5 Colours In Her Hair If I really liked her, she could

be bald for all I care.

4. How do you feel today? Garbage Truck Well, not really today. On certain past

occasions this might work better.

5. What is your life's purpose? Stuck In The Middle Truer than what most of you

think.

6. What is your motto? Fly High, Sky High My God. It's spot on.

7. What do your friends think of you? 当我们在一块 Heh. At least I'm supposedly fun

to be around with.

8. What do you think of your parents? Billie Jean First answer without link.

9. What do you think about very often? I Just Wanna Live There are better answers,

but this one fits well enough.

10. What is 2 + 2? 我秀故我在 I don't care about maths? Works for me.

11. What do you think of your best friend? All For One It's weird though, since I don't have a best friend. So according to the song, maybe everyone's a best friend to me.

12. What do you think of the person you like? Accidentally In Love Hell yeah.

13. What is your life story? 快乐崇拜 Makes a scary load of sense.

14. What do you want to be when you grow up? I'm Like A Lawyer LOL. I didn't fake

this. I swear.

15. What do you think of when you see the person you like? At The Beginning Comes

to mind sometimes.

16. What will you dance to at your wedding? True Love's Kiss I'd have it no other way.

17. What will they play at your funeral? Breaking Free Philosophically there's no

better song.

18. What is your hobby/interest? I Can Give You Gatsby I lock myself up in a room, blast the frickin' song and spray enough deodorant to double the effects of global warming. So sue me.

19. What is your biggest fear? She Left Me Hell yeah.

20. What is your biggest secret? Love Today (Acoustic) Hell yeah.

21. What do you think of your friends? 精舞门 Hel- Oh sorry. They don't dance too often, but I guess this song only remotely relates to Nicholas.

22. What will you post this as? Move Along Time to go, thanks for reading!

SC Survivor

2008-06-24T03:19:00.000-07:00

I Say "We Miss!" You Say "Camp!"
"wemisSCamp! wemisSCamp!"

The very words I'd been echoing around blogs and messenger the past 2 days. The words probably have to be agreed by most of the people that have seen and understood what I was talking about (No, Sara, the "SC" there does not stand for your name.) It only took a few minutes after stepping down from the train to know how much we wanted to stay at Kuala Lipis - To carry on our cheers, our games, our 2 minute showers, our tired chats, our tough treks, our leech-slaying. Our camp.

Really, words don't begin to describe such experiences, as no length of vocabulary or overpriced dictionaries contain the right words to relive what we've been through as a family. Perfection can never be captured.

Yet stopping2think isn't smart enough to know, and sure is willing to give a go at returning the tears to our eyes, our smiles to our mouths and the frowns to our foreheads by simply going through what I saw happened during the camp. Take your time, because I did when I typed this.

Day 1 - "Give me an SC cheer!"

I had breakfast at a friend's house with my mother before I was fetched to our campus for the camp. A few of us who just arrived spotted the growing crowd at the Foyer's speakers corner and naturally joined in the chatter after dropping our bags off.

Before long, the Exco had us lock our bags away in the Lecture Theatre so that they were safely out of the way before the camp officially started.

Up first, as always, is Ice Breakers. This time though, it seemed almost customary to some of us, as we already knew most of our groupmates as a council. It was still interesting, learning about favourite foods, birthdates, loves and hates. Tong Wei did get the shorter end of the stick this time, since everyone now knows her rather embarassing astonishing feat of get her head stuck in between rungs. Gosh, did I just type that on my blog? Well I guess it doesn't matter. Nobody reads this junk anyway.

So the icebreakers passed without much fuss, and we picked up quite alot of new cheers that we'd soon be echoing for days on end. Then came the - well - talk. For some reason, I got stuck here for a few minutes, before coming to the conclusion that I cannot find a suitable adjective. Sorry and to be honest, I wasn't sure what we were supposed to get from the "Tongwei Kiatshing Gillian Sara" talk (Notice the initials), but some of us did manage to have a fun time. At Kiat Shing's expense.

Then came the dialogue sessions, possibly the last the year 4s will have with us. I thought the tone was meant to be formal at first, but somehow, it felt like the year 4s really didn't like the fact that it was a "Dialogue Session" word for word. Behind the speech-like words that they picked to say lay strong, pure emotions that had to be held back just for now.

We resumed the camp with games after that, and then... Disaster struck. (Cue DUMDUM-DUM scary music.) The water tug of war was our first game against Lula. I happened to be in the geh-kiang mood, and volunteered to stand first since I also happen to hate being blindfolded. Did I regret my decision.

Through the game, I felt like I got attached to Optimus Prime's leg and he was ready to fly after the allspark at full speed. No big surprise, to rope burns the size of 5 cent coins had appeared shortly after the game, and the station masters decided to make everyone wear gloves after our round. The sacrifices of being pioneers.

The next game was thankfully relaxing. We had to create a net with a ball of string and our hands. Aeldra did great at this game, hitting the ball up to eight times even. From now we knew we were going to be great as a tribe, and boosted our confidence, trust and camaraderie with each other.

I clearly remember the next game, where we had to hold up chairs for one person to crawl past as we built a pseudo-bridge in the air with the chairs. Yu Siang volunteered, and I guess we're all glad that he did. When the game went underway, it soon became clear to us that it wasn't Yu Siang keeping up with us, but the other way round. Even when we were running he still had to wait for us to move the chairs up.

The more distance we covered the faster we went, and this was quite a moment to remember. A drive fuelled by and motivating ourselves and each other. Trusting our chair holders and the one person who trusted us too. Giving each other the support they need. Working as one. One tribe.

The last of the 4 games we played was the bucket-holding one where it was a test of cooperation and determination of each and every member. Oh the agony of it, when every single moment I felt like I was going to (pun on the way) kick the bucket. Get it? Geddit? Nevermind...

So we completed the first four games of the day, and now was the *shudder* Nature Rumble. I guess one time or another, everyone from DHS has walked past the road built specially for the container classroom students, linking it all the way down to the parade square. Occasionally we do have a look at the trees or grass around, admiring how they add to the slightly vintage and olden look of the school. However, on the 4pm sun of 16 June, that area turned into a warzone.

Nature Rumble was the game, and Aeldra was up against Lula again. We had the luck to start second and watch how Lula had to got through the obstacle course. After we had our laughs, and Lula their embarassing moments, we were to go next.

I remember the course quite clearly till now, since my run was a little more eventful...

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here we are with a replay of how Samuel made it through the obstacle course!

He's now waiting for the person in front to pass the first mark and... He's off!

Look at how he throws himself on the ground, tearing through the grass under the ben - Ouch! I think he knocked on the third bench! On his head too! Judging by how much the chair moved, it's gotta have hurt a bloody lot, and let's not hope that will turn into a pun.

So he makes it over the balancing beam comprised of chairs with ease, no ~~entertainment~~ falling here, and runs up to the stack of 3 chairs.

He starts to scale ove- Wait, he's being stopped. That dumb kid is doing this wrong! Go under, over, then down! Is it that hard to remember? Maybe it's the knock on the head.

So he finally gets this right, and dashes for the second stack, and - Ouch, that knock has gotta hurt, and right on the same spot too. This guy here doesn't seem to do so well on crawling.

He finally gets to the detergent mat, and watch how he throws himself onto it, and seems to be slowly but surely moving up. Mostly slowly.

But yes! He makes it and squelches his way onto the flour! But wait, he's getting out! I think it's those blisters on his hand, those nasty little things don't mix too well with cleaning agents, no. Crikey, that's gotta hurt. You'd wonder how he's going to survive the rest of the camp."

Yes indeed, I wonder how.

So finally the ordeal was over, and fortunately we'd won. If not, somebody's going to pay for what happened to my palm.

Fast forward past the pretty dull tree game and dinner (I wouldn't want to talk about the weird uncle who accused me of ogling at somebody while I ate. Damn, did I just talk about it?), and we arrive at the controversial night games.

Freaky Fetching was the name of the game, and down right freaky it was. Our group stuck together for the whole duration of the game, and I guess it was quite a good bonding session for each other covering our backs, intimidating smaller groups into "peace treaties", and taking a hell lot of time to find all our lightsticks, but we were proud to end up eventually as the only group who had accomplished that task.

The next game was much more entertaining - the famed, legendary Candle War. Yes, we were playing that in the dead of the night, and were warned very very specifically that if our voices reached anywhere above a scream, the game would be cut immediately.

We were saved solely by the safety point in the first game against Eke, and made good of that chance in sudden death overtime by quickly breaking their string. From then we were able to overcome our fellow Major tribe Dyaruu to finally get the chance to play against the exco.

That game really could've went either way, but we had nothing to say since we were beaten only by experience. Really, none of our tribe members had ever played the game before, and a score of 2-1 is nothing to be ashamed of. Another moment of unity our tribe shared, something that strengthened our bond for the next few days.

After a quick (and I mean quick) shower, we had a short debrief, and we drifted off into blissful slumber...

Day 2 - "Got 2 Supreme Court one ah?"

... But not for long

Sometime around 3am, I heard somebody's voice calling me to wake up, and a slight shake on my shoulder. I can't be sure, but I thought for a moment it was Wei Jie calling us. Thinking I was having some kind of weird dream since no one would wake us up at such an ungodly hour, I fell back asleep.

Unfortunately I was wrong. Now Jun Jie was the one getting me to wake up, and I had no choice but to drag my half asleep body to the area outside the LTs. So we had a rather simple nightwalk in pairs, where the most challenging part was that we had to hold each other's hands.

We were made to go last, therefore held in suspsense and our state of fatigue for the longest. We were trying to sleep while sitting on the floor, but sadly and obviously to no avail. So we were glad when we finally finished our walk and were able to return to our sleeping bags.

A few hours later, we recieved the real wake-up call, and there was a flurry of packing, washing up and eating a very delicious and nutritious breakfast of the classic, well-known Peanut-butter and Jam sandwiches. We were eager to get started on our Street Chase as a level!

So our group turned out to be the one without a year 4 SF, and I was given the clues and travel guide which I was not to reveal (tempting, tempting...) Our group set off pretty soon after solving our first clue. We found a very interesting couple at the Singapore Flyer to do a 十连拍, then went to Raffles Place to do push ups at the MRT station. Finally we got to the pit stop Marina Square to find out we were there 5th.

We were not too disappointed - We had to walk quite a bit to get around. But then again, 5th was second last. So when we were waiting on the MRT to arrive at our destination, our group made a pact to finish first at the second leg.

Surprisingly, after all the extra challenges and buying the exco dinner, we managed to finally arrive at the train station first, and were we overjoyed. Our group wasn't particularly a group of very close friends, but after the day we've been through, I guess we're a step closer.

The train ride was agonisingly long, and I'm pretty sure Yiren would agree with me here. We somehow got stuck right at the back of the train together, and didn't think it was so much of a problem. And it is one of this times when the mysteries of life kick right into your face, and you'd look back and wonder how on earth could you have been so wrong.

Truth be told, while we were promised air-conditioning in the train, what the people at the back got was a ventilator instead. And it wasn't even working. For a better part of the ride I was silently drafting out the most sarcastic, offensive yet annoyingly politically correct letter in my mind that I would send to the appropriate parties the moment I get my hands on my keyboard back home where there's technology.

But I have to admit that the two of us expressed... creativity to kill time (Although I'd rather be killing the very people who built that train). The card games, chatting by mouth, chatting by phone. Ah yes, good memories...

So after a hellish 10 hour ride we finally arrived at our destination, only to find out that it was...

Day 3 - "Raining leh, how ah?"

I heard one of the instructors say. I gave a sigh, and I guess most of us were bummed that our trip had to start off on such poor weather conditions. The rain beat down hard on each of us, and we were positively freezing ourselves to death even under shelter. But again, it's the same way how candles shine brighter in the dark, how the smallest sound is clearer in the silence, how Yiren and me found lame ways to keep ourselves from being bored to death before we had heatstroke. All of the Council were finding our own ways to entertain each other - singing, dancing, chatting, even some starting on the Tempo game.

Thus, it wasn't really a total loss, rather another chance at bonding closer, to see each other's crazy antics and play along. Despite the freezing temperature, what the overwhelming feeling I had was the heartwarming fellowship of our Student Council.

We then finally reached our hotel, where we started off playing Cheat at first. With pole-dancing on the line, only 5 of us would escape safely. Fortunately for me I finished 2nd, allowing me to spend the rest of the time laughing at how close people came to winning before having to pick up the centre pile again. I introduced poker to help try "clear off" their "debts", but like they always say - The house always wins. Most of them ended up with a bigger debt instead.

After a nap, we set off for our rafting activity. It was a short coach ride there, and it was thankfully comfortable, comfortable enough even for some of us who were playing a little too many card games to catch a short nap before reaching our destination - a beautiful, freshwater lake.

We were given a quick briefing on what we were going to do for the day, and immediately started off on our raft. There was a flurry of activity, and we worked pretty hard together as a tribe. Once again it was a chance at bonding closer without even noticing - the type that I appreciate the most.

We were also given a pretty fun water confidence test, which everyone passed without a hitch, and we were all eager to go into the water. We had some races first up, and Aeldra did well for them again, beating other tribes by a considerable margin. I could feel the team spirit on and off shore, through the cheers, and the rhythmic counting of "1,2,1,2" sounds coming from behind.

The more fun activity followed - tug of war. Our boats were tied to each other with a marker in the middle, and the first one to pull the marker past a designated string will be the winner. The first BO5 against Eke was uneventful, winning all 3 rounds, but the one against Dyaruu was worthy of mention.

In the second round, I guess most of the people on the raft were just worn out. Half the people had gone through 4 rounds straight, and they were running out of steam. So when the start siren sounded, the line for once tugged in the other direction for Aeldra.

But what happened next was just too... cliche I should say. Just right when the marker was about to reach the line, it stopped moving. They'd caught a second wind, and started to pull further, further, further till they won. And we cheered. Louder, louder, louder. Nothing could stop us then.

We all returned to the hotel, tired and weary after the rafting. But as always, it's not over till Gillian the fat lady sings. We had to wash up in an incredibly short time, pack up and move all our bags to one room, and make our way back to the dining area for dinner.

Not surprisingly, the incredibly short time was a tad too incredible, and there were a few delays here and there. But when we finally got settled and finished our dinner, we went on to the next activity.

(I'll continue the post for sure! This is one day by day post that won't leave to rot and die, I give my word.)

love today

2008-05-25T03:14:00.001-07:00

Love Today

The day has come, and the suspense is finally over. A few weeks before I had put "<3>

"What?" you exclaim. "You're in love with an inanimate object?" Well... That depends on how you see things. Things referring to the medium widely used today that can allow the mordern day man (or woman, to be politically correct here) to share about his experience in his overseas trip, how that annoying auntie blocked his way for 10 whole seconds on the MRT after a tiring day of work, or just spam pictures.

No, I'm not talking about *gasp* facebook. I'm talking about exactly what you're staring at right now - A blog. "You can't be in love with a blog!" You protest. "You're supposed to tell everyone who you like in this post!" Well I never promised anything, and why can't anybody be in love with a blog? Especially if it's their own. And today is an even stronger reason why I love my blog. Guess what guys - stopping2think just turned one year old!

Bet you didn't know this, did you? Yes, I do celebrate my blog's birthday. The past 52 weeks have been filled with random listposts, reflections short and long (mostly long), and the most random of posts. We've gain a number of readers over the months, and the audience pool just keeps growing. So, from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you ~~cows~~ readers for your support, which is the only thing that keeps us from closing down. Other than April Fool's Day of course.

For those who haven't been with us from the very start, here's the best of stopping2think, presented to you in the only way that'd do justice to such a special post - a list.

The Top 7 Posts of stopping2think

7. My very first listpost

6. First listpost that I was given feedback about. (Which made me continue the concept)

5. My only post about CCA (and down right reflective too)

4. The longest post ever

3. The post attracting the most attention (Note the url)

2. The most fun interview I've had.

1. The Sam Study Style. No kidding.

Fast+Fresh

2008-05-22T08:01:00.000-07:00

Slight prologue to my next post. Level camp will be updated soon, don't worry.

Stops.

(Stage is dark. Boy walks in and sits in the middle of stage on chair, where spotlight is focused.)

Boy: *Sigh*

(Another spotlight lights up, revealing a similiarly dressed person, standing near the side of the stage with back facing the audience.)

Stranger: It’s been a long time since we talked. Feeling down?

(Gives a small smile)
Boy: Sure has.

(Smile disappears)
Boy: Why ask? You know how I feel.

(Nods knowingly)
Stranger: Of course I do. But I thought you were getting along fine with her?

(Looks down)
Boy: I’d always thought that way, but apparently, I’m not even sure what she thinks of me. She could hate me for all I know.

Stranger: It’s hard, I know - to like someone, and to have to stand and simply watch from the corner, unable to say anything to her.

(Looks back up)
Boy: I freeze the moment I see her, and the only thing that’s in my mind is “What do I say without sounding like an idiot?”

Stranger: It’s not often that you get that feeling, since you don’t have much of a problem with conversations.

Boy: But yet she’s the one person that makes me tongue-tied.

Stranger: She makes your heart beat faster, your breathing faster, your thoughts slower, your mouth dry, your palms wet.

Boy: That’s cliché.

Stranger: I know. But clichés are what they are because they’re true, aren’t they?

Female Voice: Bugis.
(Whole stage lights up, except for the Stranger’s side where the spotlight is off. People shuffle on and off the stage. There are people standing holding onto poles and sitting beside the boy in a row.)

(After the people move on and off the stage, the whole stage is dark again, except for the boy, and another similiarly dressed stranger appears at the other side of the stage, back facing the audience.)

Stranger: Why don’t you tell her?

(Looks surprised, stares directly at Stranger for the first time)
Boy: Are you crazy? You know I can’t do that.

Stranger: And exactly why not? If you’re feeling so beat up about it, let it out then.

Boy: Th-that’s just mad! I’ll be laughed at; My parent’s would surely have something to say about this. And most of all…

Stranger: She’ll avoid you?

(Boy keeps silent, turning to look down at the floor)

Stranger: I still think you should tell her. Let her know where you’re coming from.

Boy: It doesn’t solve anything.

(Pause again)

Stranger: Well, no point continuing in a stalemate. Why not ask yourself this - Do you really like her?

Boy: We’ve went through this haven’t we? As a friend, definitely. But beyond that I really have no idea.

Stranger: After all, you’re just 15 - You wouldn’t exactly have that much experience of being in love.

Boy: But one thing that I do know would be friendship, and somehow I can feel - Just feel that I want our relationship to take a step further than that. I do like her, and more than just a friend.

Stranger: Yet how far beyond is the question, isn’t it?

Boy: And that was where I left it, wasn’t it?

Stranger: You’ve left out one thing.

Boy: I have?

Stranger: Haven’t you considered the possibility of this as not really love… but simply a crush?

Boy: Well, I…

Stranger: You have haven’t you?

Boy: Not much point hiding it anyway - Yes I have, and I dismissed it.

Stranger: Don’t you think you ignored it, rather, just to make yourself believe that you’ve truly fell in love with somebody you simply like more than a friend?

Boy: No. I don’t think so.

Stranger: Aren’t you ignoring it already? Why not give it some thought?

Boy: (Raising his voice) No, I already thought about it over and over - It just isn’t that simple!

Female voice: Tanjong Pagar.

(People shuffle on and offstage yet again, and after the lights dim, the stranger appears to be somewhere else again.)

Stranger: (Mockingly) Getting all riled up, aren’t we?

(Silence)

Boy: Shouldn’t I sort out my thoughts by talking to you? Because right now I don’t really see why we have to keep up with this.

Stranger: It’s not really my choice here - Remember the smoking commercials?

Boy: What?

Stranger: Step one - admitting you have a problem.

(Silence. Boy turns away from the Stranger for a while, before looking back at him again.)

Boy: Fine! So what if I ignored it?

Stranger: There we go… Now step two - Seek professional assistance by dialling 1800-I-talk-to-myself.

Boy: Been there, done that… Step three’s talking to my parents, which is not what I am going to do.

Stranger: I do have a step four, although it wasn’t in the commercial…

Boy: For five minutes, can you just talk straight to the point?

Stranger: A crush doesn’t mean that your feelings are just a whole manifestation of lies and fake emotions you know. You’re fifteen. It’s normal. Frankly it would be a little disturbing if you don’t like any girl at all.

Boy: You know, for the first time throughout this time, it seems like you make sense.

Stranger: Crushes are just something almost every teenager goes through, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it.

Boy: Well, finally we agree on something.

Stranger: Yes, and a good thing it is. Not much time left to chat, is there?

Female Voice: Queenstown.

(People shuffle on and off stage, Stranger changes position, back facing the audience. Lights dim again.)

Boy: Surely enough to answer this - So now what? What do I do? It still feels hard bottling all this up.

Stranger: Good lord, boy - You’re really slow aren’t you? Did you forget to check the calendar these past few days?

Boy: Wait a minute… Lunar New Year was last week, and today’s a Thursday. That means-

(Lights turn on again. Boy looks around, and sees that all the people on stage are carrying boxes of chocolate, reading and writing pink and heart shaped cards.)

Boy: Are you saying that I should…

Stranger: (Nodding head calmly) Absolutely.

Boy: (Stands up and exclaims loudly, throwing up his arms) But its 7.30am! I’ve got to go to school!

Stranger: The convenience store you pass by on your way to school is named that way for a reason. I hope you brought the money from your red packets.

Boy: Why you are one smart-

Female Voice: (Cutting off the boy) Buona Vista.

(Lights light up the moment the voice starts speaking. Boy picks up his bag, and runs offstage in a hurry.)

Art in the blog

2008-05-16T06:31:00.000-07:00

Art in the ~~Heart~~ Blog

Yeah, it's over. Five long, arduous days are finally behind us as we suffered shine (no rain strangely), dancing, screaming and a whole ton of fat, unhealthy lot of tidbits. After all that, I am glad to declare that I have finally escaped from the *shudder* level camp.

Yeah right.

A year or two ago, that may have been the 50 words summary of my level camp experience. Thankfully, unlike last time, I do not just know the meanings behind words like meaningful, art, culture and bonding, but rather I believe I understand them now.

So this is going to be one long post on my personal ups and downs of the camp, the long bus rides, the short happy moments, the big events that everyone took part in, and the small gestures, words and rare things that I look out for. Really, there's no point in going over what happened over the camp in general - everyone did the same thing. It's the details that make our experiences unique, don't you think?

Day 1 - Are we there yet?

A bath, light breakfast and quick goodbyes later, I was set to leave for level camp. As always, I found it weird that I wasn't really excited for a camp or overseas trip. I call it "looking forward", not really being so excited to the extent that I can't even sleep. Thankfully, my father was able to send me to school, so I didn't have to take the MRT and drag my bags along.

I reached school and was greeted by a sea of yellow shirts, with the occasional white PE shirts here and there. Met some guys from my class and 3L, and took quite some time before we got organised into our classes. Mrs Bok asked me to do a headcount, and, like all the others in 3M, we all predicted a certain classmate will be late -Nicholas. He didn't disappoint.

So we left as the last bus, and when boarding the coach, Nicholas was called to take the what would be called and feared as the Osim Chair (cue "DUMDUM-DUM" scary music).

The early part of the bus ride was pretty slow. It was basically sharing of whatever portable technology was available - DSes, PSPs, phones, you name it. We were feeling the effects of being away from home (or rather really just our computers). So the bus ride went by uneventfully, as we whiled time away with card games, chatting, music and the like.

But then, such trivial forms of entertainment can only last so long, and before long most of us were sleeping already. Not me, I was still plugged into my playlist, and going on strong. After listening through the playlist on my phone two whole times, we finally arrived at the lunch place. Amazingly, despite Nicholas' amazing feat in the morning, we somehow made it there first. Our driver appears to be an Initial-D junkie.

So we happily got our food first and settled down at our respective tables. Sean was still sore at his PSP being unable to play memory card stored games, and was swearing while me, Sherman and Han Ping were talking about materia fusion. No we didn't mean to agitate him. Yes, it was fun.

After shunning the toilet by a mere look and sniff, we continued on our seemingly never ending journey by bus to Legend Resort. Games and miscellaneous forms of entertainment were underway once again, as we made our way to the next stop - Orang Asli village.

Frankly, the village seemed a little too small. 5 huts was the total count. I felt quite humbled by looking at their living conditions. The kitchen, dining room, living rom and bedroom took up the space of 1 of the rooms in my house. And I complain I need more space sometimes.

We read about these seemingly far away places everywhere, where the people live with minimal technology and money, and have almost zero awareness of what's going on in ~~KODE5~~, the US Presidential elections, the Olympics - Every single thing that we deem as important knowledge. We see this everywhere - Reader's Digest, Time Magazine, even the Straits Times, but how many times have we seen it up close? How many times have we experienced it for ourselves? How many times have we appreciated our Pentium III computer? How many times have we thanked our parents for giving us an air conditioner in our room? How many times have we felt lucky to have that phone is also a walkman, camera, and reliable mode of communication? How many times have I said "How many times"?

We boarded the bus after less than half an hour. That was it. A touch and go thing, something that seemed more of like as a formality, there was no need for us to understand their way of life, and in that way look at ours more closely again. Hopefully the SC trip will provide that chance.

Most of us were getting bored fast, since cards and batteries can only last so long. Well, maybe phones might serve a better purpose, and Vanessa seemed to have found a pretty entertaining method of killing time:

When I stared out the window, it's just trees, trees, old hut, trees, trees, more trees, old huts, trees, broken down car, trees, unfinished building, trees, trees, Legend Resort signboard, tre- Wait, we're here? You mean we actually made it? 8 hours in the hot, stuffy, supposedly air conditioned bus have finally brought us to the promised land.

Sean, Seng Wai, Xue Xun, Ron and I were overjoyed (and I mean overjoyed) to find that we had connecting rooms. Double the space, 5/2 the people, double the fun. Kind of. So we quickly did the same UNPACK process as I mentioned for Cairns trip - Un-Nicely Pile All Carried (insert synonym of luggage starting with K. Kargo?)

Really now, I don't want to talk about how I really felt about the games that we hard to learn, so here we go - Model answer style:

*Ahem*
We had a chance to experience first-hand various malay traditional activities. It was a refreshing eye-opener, and I was truly amazed at how ingenious all these games were. Simply by digging holes in the ground and using a number small pebbles, we can enjoy a fun game of "Congkak", a traditional malay game. The Sepak Takraw challenge was fun too, and allowed us to bond. Although we all weren't able to win the challenge, I'm sure we all had fun as we tried our best together as a class.

Now may the Good Lord forgive me for lying online.

The kite-flying was basically... non-existent. No wind, no breeze, no cyclone, no hurricane. So everyone's highly anticipated chance to take great photos went down the drain. Even after a whole hour nobody could get their kite up for more than a minute. No guesses for whether I bothered to try.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for dinner to start, and we didn't even get more than one kite up at the same time. I'm not complaining really. I was too busy trying to get the clock to move faster.

So we walked over to the dinner area, which is located outdoors on the grass patch. We chose a table near the buffet table, which also happened to be near to the (cue DUMDUM-DUM scary music) *gasp* - Light.

What's so scary about a light you may ask? After all, it'll be easier to eat your food. But the downside to that is just like bringing your PSP to a children's birthday party, and whipping it out, hoping to enjoy a game of Final Fantasy: Crisis Core (lol@sean), only to find that you're attracting all the fat, disgusting, pesky ~~kids~~ flies.

I gave up after some time, when I found 3 flies in my food in less than a minute. It's amazing how the flies can just keep flying into our food and on our tables, only to die over and over again. Maybe we should help them set up a contact network.

Time flies by (pun intended), and dinner was over. I sighed that damn-we-have-a-boring-activity-now sigh, and once again boarded the bus for another boring ride. Really now, something had to be done about these long journeys. But that's a story for another day. For now, let's get on with the turtles.

So when we first arrived at the pathetic excuse of a turtle sanctuary headquarters (You all know what I mean), I think I speak for all of us when I say that sitting down does not seem like an appealing action. What with lizards, flies and miscellaneous pests about, the place could do much better as an insect cum random disgusting domestic creature sanctuary.

Turtle watching was not much better. The place was beach dark, and we could hardly see a thing. Frankly, if a freakin' Blastoise came coming out of the sea and starts shooting Hydro Cannons at everyone, I doubt we'd still be able to see what's going on, let alone turtles half the size of our palms. I mean really. Can't we just release turtles in the day? They need light just like us too. Preferably from the sun instead of the torches. It's more convenient both ways, and we'd be able to dodge Hydro Cannon attacks more easily.

We finally made it back to our rooms at around 11:30pm, but that was when the real fun started. Remember, double the space, 5/2 the people, double the fun. For sure. We started off by once again making fun of Sean's PSP firmware, and the four of us decided to play Big 2 in our room while Sean stuck to his Ark of Nephitism. The following conversation sounded much, much better in real life, but then again, it's the best I can do. Note Sean that was fighting a boss battle, explaining the Gamer's Rage.

Ron: 10 Clubs.
Xue Xun: Jack Spades.
Me: Queen Hearts.
Seng Wai: Ace Diamonds.
Sean (From other room): Bring it on, faggotsxz!@#@#*^$!!!!

We collapsed into laughter, and it took quite awhile before we could carry on with our game. Good memories, good memories indeed...

Day 2 - Joy Luck Bus

stopped2think @ 2138hours may 24. look out for the joy luck bus next!

My Best Friend.

2008-04-30T22:14:00.001-07:00

My Best Friend.

Most of us have a certain friend that we are very close to. A certain friend that we can always talk to, who we can always chat with, who we can work so well together, who we can laugh together, who we can always ~~whack when we're feeling violent~~ smile with.

Having someone like that in your life is just so comforting - You could tell he or she some of your deepest thoughts and secrets, knowing for sure that that friend would never ever tell anyone what you've said unnecessarily. That friend will always be ready to support you, to lend you a listening ear, and at the same time stop you if you're basically screwing your life up.

That, dear readers, is what a best friend is.

So since I seem to know so much about best friends, why is it that day by day it looks more and more like I don't have that best friend?

Really, so many of my thoughts I prefer to keep to myself, not because I don't want to share them. I do, I really do, but then again, who can I find that I can trust not to tell anyone what I say?

Not to mention, a best friend's got to be someone you could talk from day to night, night to day, and then some. A best friend isn't someone that you just stare at awkwardly, spending half the time thinking of what to talk about and the other half working up the guts to say so. (That'd be what we call a failed date or something.)

So really, I still don't have any friend that I could tell every single one of those secrets I really want to share with someone. One friend that I can always count on. That one friend that I'll be able to talk to about anything under the sun, any time the clock points to.

Could it be because of my crazy theory about how I act differently in front of different people? That I really seem to be different people at different times, and because of that nobody truly, truly understands me. I do want to say more, but not everyone who reads my blog is my best friend. Then again, who is...?

Simon Says

2008-04-14T01:27:00.000-07:00

Simon Says

When I heard the announcement informing us that "All year 3s and 4s please make your way to the hall this assembly", I gave that usual damn-I-knew-this-was-coming groan. Sitting in the hall with an estimated 700 people with no air-con is not the ideal way to end the day.

Still, it's a cruel society we live in, and we once again had to squeeze into the stuffy hall. Strangely, a setup of drums, guitars a bass and a microphone was on stage. I thought that maybe, just maybe, this assembly might be entertaining.

I thought wrong.

In all my 15 years of life (which includes 1 series of Rockstar Supernova, 7 series of American Idol, 2 series of Campus Superstar and 1 series of Superstar), I have never ever heard such horrendous singing. The guy with the ugly green shirt and black skinnies on stage was jumping around like he was jamming to Green Day in his own room and nobody was watching. If only that was the case.

And through that time I was slowly pondering over whether he thought he was a good singer or just an expert in self-denial. By this time you're asking, "What's with the title?", since nothing so far has sounded like the innocent, children's game played at birthday parties for 5 year olds and Year 1 orientation. Anyone who saw the last sentence as a dig at boring secondary school games, raise your hand and say "Aye!"

Unless you've been stranded on an island with no TV (or just living under a rock), you should know of American Idol's infamous but oh-so-entertaining-to-watch Simon Cowell. That man delivers the meanest, most vile comments to self-delusional Idol-hopefuls with a straight face, all topped off with his haughty British accent.

I was wondering what comments the singer or wailer, whichever word you prefer, would recieve if he tried out for American Idol. From Simon, specifically. But since such a thing is impossible since I doubt he could earn enough money to take a bus with his vocals, let alone an air ticket, I have came up with a few ideas should he really decide to go for a Singaporean version.

Here's another crazy, fun, and completely useless listpost by stopping2think.

10 Things Simon Would've Said

1. If you sing a Linkin Park song, there'll be bloodshed.
2. Well, I'm feeling quite like the camera in the middle of the hall there - we're both here to shoot you.
3. The most devastating part of this performance was that I couldn't even sleep through it.
4. Paula wasn't joking when she said you had a great vocal range
5. Security?
6. Maybe if you'd spent less time jumping back and forth, you might've gotten a note or two on key.
7. I've heard it so many times I'm sick of it - I don't care if you take singing lessons.
8. I do agree that there were some technical difficulties affecting the performance - They couldn't turn off the microphone.
9. Randy, stop laughing already.
10. William Hung would be proud.

A laugh was had...

2008-04-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

A laugh was had...

At your expense! The confession is here now, no more tricks - Happy Belated April Fools!

Yes, April Fool's jokes can be belated and no, my blog isn't closing and yes, I know how shocked, angry and murderous you feel right now. Stopping2think doesn't stop you know.

I was pretty surprised by how the tagboard was flooded with random tags. It was the first time where the tagboard was filled completely with tags, without a single reply from me. Largest thanks go to Jun Rong, since he was pretty much conducting a conversation with 3 different people anyway.

I know there're many people out there still gaping in shock at what I'm posting here, and probably will just pull a "Bang Bang Sam's Dead" when they get a gun in their hands, so to appease the anger out there, I sincerely apologise to every single one of you who was taken in by that post, with a special mention:

To Cas Chow, who actually dedicated a whole post on her blog to mine, thank you very very much for that post, since it's the first time I got any post dedicated to me! I know you're nice, forgiving, magnanimous and all, and will not ever even think of killing me in any way. Also, all you cows reading this, have a look at her very well updated blog.

So no Vanessa, you can't have my blog password. No, Yong Kit, you won't need to miss my lists because more are in the works. No, Jia Teck, I'm not going to die. No Jun Rong, you're not going to lose your source of entertainment. No, Darrell, I'm not going to delete my blog in a moment of emo-ness. No Jane, I'm not really closing it.

But a special mention of thanks also goes to LittleKuriboh, for the inspiration of actually pulling something like this off.

Look out for updates this weekend, since I've got a few post ideas ready. Remember guys, stopping2think doesn't think of stopping. Unless it's April 1st all over again xD

APRIL FOOLS MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

2008-04-05T07:00:00.001-07:00

We came, we stopped, we ~~thunk~~ thought.

Well, I haven't blogged in two weeks. The school life of secondary 3 is getting to me, and time just slips away faster and faster. Now, I hardly even have the time to ~~play~~ study properly, let alone trying to do a decent blog. Lately, stopping2think is becoming more of a chore to me. It's taking more determination day by day for me to post, and when I do I'll still feel like doing something else.

So it's time to come clean. I'm ending stopping2think.

Let's face it - year 3 has already been 13 weeks underway, but I'm still a slacker who doesn't have the time to study. After so much consideration, this is just taking up too much of my time, and still quite unproductive.

So I've decided to put an end to this blog. It's a shame I couldn't reach the 1 year mark, but that just means a rehash of a few ideas I had of listposts anyway. So what's the point? I've said all that I could about everything under the sun, from awkward IP interviews to shamelessly observing and commenting on a family I saw on an MRT. What more can be said? ~~How many more times can Kaiba screw the rules?~~

Don't be too sad. There're so many other good blogs to read if you want to kill time. It's not like the end of my life or something. I'll still be in school, and you'll still see me complain about failing tests and not doing homework.

And that's that. I wash my hands off this whole affair. I know some of you are not going to be very happy, but at least now you'll stop wondering when the next stupid list comes out. And who knows? Maybe one day when I get straight As (cue canned laughter), I'll carry on where I left off.

Thanks for following my posts. It's been a good ride.

The Doctor Is In

2008-03-22T05:12:00.000-07:00

The Doctor Is In

I'll post about the happier things that happened some other time. Right now, there seem to be many people who are down. And trust me - I know what it feels like to be down too. And somehow the mood of people around me affects mine.

I've said it once, I'll say it again - Never fear stopping2think is here! I may not have wisdom to share, but I do have Starhub MaxOnline 100mbps internet connection.

Time to get a little more serious now.

What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight - it’s the size of the fight in the dog

Being defeated is often only a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it PERMANENT.

Don’t count the days, make the days count.

Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful.

Keep laughing. As long as you’re laughing you still have hope.

It is difficulties that show what men are.

You may be disappointed if you fail, but you’re doomed if you don’t try.

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment.

There is no elevator to success. You have to take the stairs.

If you don't meet a storm, how do you test your ship?

Don't be happy, be cheerful. There's a difference. A happy person has no cares at all. A cheerful person learns how to deal with them.

Worry, like a rocking chair will give you something to do, but it won’t get you anywhere.

If the bull had no horns, everyone could be a matador.

It's not the load that breaks you down, it's the way you carry it.

If you hear a voice within you say “you cannot paint,” then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.

Mistakes are part of the dues that one pays for a full life.

If you’re not failing every now and again, it’s a sign you’re not doing anything.

Pain is inevitable, but misery is optional.

Success comes in cans, failure in can’ts.

We are like tea bags - we don’t know our own strength until we’re in hot water.

Courage is like a muscle. We strengthen it with use.

There is only one way to happiness, and that is to cease worrying about the things which are beyond the power of our will.

You sure that wasn't his sister?

2008-03-12T02:10:00.000-07:00

You sure that wasn't his sister?

Bear with this reflectionless post. And it's not a list post either. By the way, I was thinking of making another blog just for random or extremely short one line posts. How does stopping2crap sound?

Tong Wei needs to learn that Aljunied comes before Kallang =D

We reached school a little late for the meeting at 8.10ish am, and found that the only other main comm member there was Jin Wen. The meeting went kind of slow, since we all hit a block about deciding on a feasible theme for PSLTC. That ended up with a possible movie marathon cum meeting at my house on Good Friday afternoon.

So the cheer practice went by, with us suddenly losing all enthusiasm for not much reason when we were supposed to teach the class committee the cheers. At least we were able to point out our own mistakes here and there, and hopefully the next session will go much better. Kudos to Shu Jun for doing almost everything on that day. I can never figure out how to teach a cheer to even one person by myself.

After the practice, Gillian, Tong Wei and I went to Bugis to eat lunch, because the practice ended unexpectedly early, and training was still hours away. We went to the food court, and Tong Wei and I went to get our food first.

The queue was quite long, but after a while we finally made our way back. And there was a (cue DUMDUM-DUMDUM scary music) shocking discovery - Gillian saw ______ and a girl! And we went "You sure that was ______?" "But ______ was supposed to (censored not to give too much away)"

Apparently, ______ was holding the girl's hand or the other way round. But then again, that could've been his sister. Right? Right?

All this followed by calls and smses to ______, all to no avail. After we ate, we attempted to look around for... nothing. We're not so evil as to stalk somebody. Most of the time was spent at a stationary shop. And it was pretty amazing at how much criteria Gillian and Tong Wei go through finding one pen.

"The pink or purple?" "Cute or practical?" "Dark or bright?" "Pencil or pen?" The best question they had was probably asking each other "Which one would you buy?" After all, there would only be one correct answer - "She, (pointing to one of them) would ask you."

After a while, they spent some time being fascinated by rabbits being embedded or painted (I wasn't sure, I was busy pretending I was somewhere else) onto nails, and that since nails grow, the rabbits would started going upwards slowly too. The scary thing was they tried asking me whether I wanted to get my nails done.

So time flew by and 2pm came. We boarded opposite trains, and I made it to training just on time at 3pm, just to discover almost everyone else was there already. And I could almost be sure Kenneth mentioned the words "SC" when I came in. Well, I may have said AWC last time, but I've really changed since the first half of 2007. And you, who are highlighting my posts, should get rid of this filthy habit. Don't tell anyone.

The training was okaaay, except for the fact that my shooting suit was gone, my shooting pants were gone, my gun was gone, and Han Ping was gone. Well he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, but nevermind.

The new coach was a real nice person, and had spent so much time trying to help me correct my position. She was amazingly patient with me, since almost every time I lifted my gun I would be out of position, to which she would start laughing again. Hopefully I'll get it right next time.

Knew you'd try highlighting again. And I'm serious about stopping2crap! How does it sound?

By the way, have a look at Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged on youtube.

跑吧，孩子！

2008-03-10T04:44:00.000-07:00

跑吧，孩子！

Thanks to Xingqi, I'm not giving up! And what better way to show that but a blog? And on something happier too, not like the last one.

Sometime last Wednesday, I left school with Jia Teck, Tong Wei, Sara and Guang Liang(spelling?). We made our way to City Hall and then Raffles City for dinner. Jia Teck and I thought it'd be better if we sat on seperate tables - don't hold your breath - Sara and Tong Wei's year 2 classmate was coming to meet us for dinner at Raffles City and originally the idea was that only the 3 of them would be eating together but now there's me Jia Teck and Guang Liang(spelling?) and according to one of them (I can't remember who) their classmate Charlene was shy so it would seem weird if we were sitting with them because she wasn't really informed beforehand we would be going with them.

But we ended up on the same table anyway.

Jia Teck and I waited at City Hall to meet Heng Guang and Vanessa first because they didn't know how to get to Victoria Concert Hall. After some less-than-convinving arguements on whether the Victoria Concert Hall was up in the sky or directly below a bridge, we finally found the place.

So the 6 of us who met for dinner suddenly came to a realisation. Well the 5 of them actually. They discovered that we didn't buy a gift for the people performing that we knew. I simple went "Wah, we need to buy gift one ah?"

We went into the mini cafeteria at first, and thought about whether it would seem weird if we bought candy as a gift, since almost everyone else got flowers. I had a different idea though - very 2K. What if we, well, "borrowed" the flowers they so nicely put on the tables? It seemed pretty deserted anyway, I'm sure losing a few plastic flowers wouldn't affect the business.

But I decided against it. So after chatting with alot of other friends who also went to the concert, we entered the Theatre. The perfomances were great actually, and time flew by fast. In between each song, Jia Teck, Sara and I who were
sitting close together were deciding whether we should find some way we could get a gift. Before we knew it, the intermission came. 20 minutes, it was announced.

Why not guess the crazy idea that popped into our minds. I'll give you a clue - it starts with an R, and ends with un-to-raffles-city. Got it? Good guess!

And run we did. Me and Jia Teck didn't stop one step on the way there, and had a little trouble finding the florist at first. After the florist took a excruciatingly long time to wrap up the flowers nicely, we started off running back again, and recieved a call somewhere in the middle of the Padang. I heard Jia Teck shouting "FIVE MINUTES?", before we ran even faster than when we started. When just reached the Concert Hall and heard the bell ring, we thought we missed it.

We were completely breathless when we crawled our way up the short flights of stairs, and surprsingly - we made it! I wanted to laugh, but didn't have enough energy to do so, and probably looked stupid enough walking like 2 zombies to our seat. We both collapsed onto our seats, and kept on panting. But I never doubted what we were doing even for a moment. Like I told Jia Teck when we were running, "These are memories, man. You don't do crazy stuff like this everyday."

We got lost in the voices of the choir once again, and it only got even more entertaining when they did the High School Musical songs. Sara and I were busy trying to tell Jia Teck to stop singing during the songs that he knew, and I was quite afraid the people in front of us might be getting angry.

After the concert ended, and the "pop out of nowhere" flowers were given, Jia Teck made us walk a long way round to get to the MRT, and finally we ended up home. It was really great fun, both before, during, after and in between the concert. Wonder if the CS concert will be any more interesting?

Yes, we definitely don't get to do such crazy stuff everyday.

bad mood

2008-03-08T21:43:00.000-08:00

I can't be bothered to blog

I can't be bothered to reply tags

I can't be bothered to change to Trebuchet MS Large

I can't be bothered to add a title

I can't be bothered to do homework

I can't be bothered to study

I can't be bothered to play

I can't be bothered to talk

I can't be bothered to go out

I can't be bothered to... anything.

I have no idea why, but I just don't feel like doing anything most of the time now. Even during the holidays I just have no motivation to move a muscle. I just stopped. But just can't think. And somehow that feeling just isn't going away.

Is smiling when you're sad unhealthy? Because if it is, I might be going to a hospital sometime soon. I haven't felt happy or satisfied about anything in quite some time, and I have no mood to go look for those feelings.

I feel lifeless and dead. A zombie, maybe, except that I don't walk around and claw people with my bloody hands and haven't turned into skin and bones.

I can't think, I can't write, I can't blog, I can't study, I can't play, I can't laugh, I can't shoot. Frankly, I don't know what I can do anymore.

And I have no idea why.

81 Hearts, One Family.

2008-02-25T02:15:00.001-08:00

81 Hearts, One Family.

Finally I get the chance for this.

If you've been following my past few posts (and you should be doing so), you may notice that out of my pasts 6 posts, 4 were nobody-would-be-dumb-enough-to-follow list posts. Hey, this is stopping2think here! We've got reflective responsibilities! Thankfully, a perfect opportunity has come for me to be able to once again sit down in front of the computer screen, and type away as I try to recall those great memories left behind.

I've always wondered - Why did I join in the first place? It doesn't seem so long ago, when Madam Sau had this one extra form that nobody wanted, and exasperatingly thrust it to me, saying, "哎呀，你拿去啦!" I wasn't all that brave to speak up yet (Refer to What's My problem? post if you don't understand), and decided to fill in the form to save myself some trouble.

My not-so-enriching prefectorial experience in primary school was probably the thing that got me through, and I went to the interview at the music room in tanjong rhu campus. It was quite intimidating at first, seeing the Principal, teachers and a few councillors all at once.

One of the questions that was really significant was asked by Ms Yeo, which went "Why do you want to be a student councillor?" That one had me panicky for a moment. For the first time in my life I was about to screw up an importantly big question for an interview. The Miss Universe model answers were definitely out for me - I have my own principles.

So I fell back on what I always did most - Honesty. 1K pupils would know how I hated concerts and events organised by the school. Actually, to be honest, I think we all did. That made me think hard - How can I be able to organise such major events, if I didn't even like that one bit?

I made it a point then, to be as active as possible if I was accepted, for myself to truly understand the staggering amount of effort and pure sweat that each person has to contribute for events to run smoothly.

So far, I have never regretted submitting that form to Madam Sau; I should actually thank her. School just holds so much more meaning as a councillor, not because my tie's too tight, but you feel so much more at home, with a family of 80 other hearts.

In all the events I've taken part in, I've seen how close people slowly get when we all work hard together, providing support to each other in harsh times of need, and to laugh and joke together about the simplest things. It's those times when I really feel privileged to be able to call myself a councillor.

There are truly too many things that the Student Council has done for me, and I can never find enough time to list all of them out. But I do know that I will do my best to repay these gifts that are far beyond any material worth.

By the way, didn't I just say" list"?

Thank you SC, for...

Teaching me how to talk

Teaching me how to smile

Teaching me how to see

Teaching me how to hear

Teaching me friendship

Teaching me love

Teaching me courage

Teaching me patience

Teaching me responsibility

Taking away my fear

Taking away the cynic in me

Taking away my troubles

Taking away my sadness

Giving me friends

Giving me life

Giving me tears

Giving me fun

Giving me support

Giving me reason

Giving me joy

Giving me fun

Giving me hope

Thank you,

For teaching me.

TO BE DONE

2008-02-25T02:15:00.000-08:00

pleeeeeeeeeaaaase wait for me. will post asap once i figure out how 5 tests a week are meant to be handled.

Where's the love?

2008-02-14T04:36:00.000-08:00

Where's the love?
UPDATED 15.2 AT BOTTOM

It's Febuary 14th, friendship/valentine's day. The day when people are able to have that excuse to give that person a few tables away a little gift, although you're too shy to leave your name. When you can confess your heartfelt ~~love~~ friendship to the people close to you. I went to school, perhaps in a slightly better mood than usual.

Then I waited. And waited. And waited. End of day nearing, and not a single gift. None. Nada. Zip. Zero. x, where x =/= anything but 0.

And the day was over. Is it really the truth? Am I such a social outcast? So unloved? Not even worth a tiny bit of the 20-in-1 packets of chocolates? Ah, it's depressing. To learn that you just cut the line between friendship an anonimity. It's the day where love was supposed to be the main thing in the air other than greenhouse gases, and all you feel is the envy of those that haul their presents home in large plastic bags.

And I'm definitely not the only one. It's good to have to feeling of community, that there are others who share in your sorrow, and seek to find asylum from such a sad fate. Never fear, stopping2think is here! Yes, yet another stupid list that helps nobody except maybe a few laughs.

10 Ways to get that love you need. Hook or by crook.

1. "Accidentally" spam your friends with gift requests directed at someone else. Apologise for the mistake. Hint.

2. Busk at the MRT underpass.

3. Go home crying and attempt suicide. Somebody's gotta visit you at the hospital right?

4. Do what Singaporeans do best - Complain, complain, complain, until something happens.

5. Organise outings with those who didn't receive gifts either. Angel and Mortal game included.

6. Do it the 2K boys' way - kup, kup, kup.

7. Spend your night weeping away with K/J dramas

8. Buy a mountain of chocolates and eat them all at once. Get yourself in hospital for that. Refer to 3 for explanation.

9. Dedicate a few songs for yourself, signing off as "anon" or "your secret admirer". Be sure to be in the canteen when its playing.

And the most desperate, effective, thick-skinned way to get that love?

10. Hang a sign saying "Free hugs!"

11. Make a shameless blogpost to declare how sad you are. Proceed similiarly to 1.

P.S. for those who are feeling guilty already, my classroom is at Container Block B, and my table is right beside the pen sticking in the wall. No joke.

Surviving Chinese New Year.

2008-02-05T21:35:00.000-08:00

Surviving Chinese New Year.

Thanks for all the concern that you guys have shown through the simple tags made =D. Yes, my mother is fine and has returned this morning, and I'm finally able to breathe without half-choking myself to death. Life is good.

I am aware that it's Chinese New Year Eve, and I'm supposed to be preparing the dinner for tonight or visiting relatives (ZOMGWHYAREYOUBLOGGINGAHANO00OOB), but it doesn't feel right leaving the post on top of my blog as something that's was posted when I was feeling down. I'm thoughtful that way.

Thus, a new post is needed to usher in the New Year cheer, and what better to do that than yet another stupid, useless list that people read but don't follow?

In less than 10 hours, most of us are going to be having a reunion dinner, talking with our Here's stopping2think presenting to you the official Tips to Survive Chinese New Year! This time with elaborations and explanations. Results are neither guaranteed nor likely to show.

Problem 1:
Irritating visitors.

Tomorrow will be the first day of Chinese New Year, meaning that there'll be many visitors coming into your house for a "short visit". Most of them you haven't seen in, my goodness, exactly one year. Wonder what brought them here the last time?

There're bound to be some who will stay for hours on end uninvited, and you'll have to plaster on the most convincing smile you can possibly fake, listening for the fifth year in a row how he had almost struck Toto 3 decades ago, when "Fit-ty cent was alot o' money." There's bound to be a way to get them to leave so you can play with your baby cousin who just came, right?

Solution:
Purchase a bag of the cheapest snack you can possibly afford. When you greet the relative, offer him the bag of snack and start making conversation. Pretend that you're shocked at how "dirty" you have gotten your hands when your smile is starting to cramp your face. Immediately apologise, and quickly drag your nearby sibling to listen to him continue on how he got a Persian monk to pick his 3rd number, and make sure "He tells you the whole thing afterwards". Walk away, smug that its your siblings turn to suffer now.

Problem 2:
Missing the mood

There are times when you just feel like staying at home without having to go to see people you don't know and wish them a Happy Chinese New Year. What's so happy about this occasion? The only good thing that you get out of it is a school holiday. There's nothing so special about Chinese New Year after all.

It's hard to get into the CNY mood sometimes, but there are ways to make sure you feel the happiness of wearing red and singing those songs you knew from young.

Solution(s):
There are a multitude of ways to solve this. It ranges from replacing your playlist on your iPods to a neverending repeat of "恭喜恭喜", to dreaming about what to do with your Ang Pao money to get yourself some motivation to go greet relatives. But there's one surefire favourite that I reccomend. It may seem a scary thought, and I don't fancy trying it myself - Visit Chinatown this CNY Eve. If squeezing through throngs of people trying to get that 50% off Hae Bee Hiam doesn't hammer it into your head that Chinese New Year is here, nothing will.

Problem 3:
Ang Pao losses

Every Chinese New Year, you count the amount of money recieved and ask your parents how much they gave this year through red packets. Usually, you find that the amount of money that goes out of your pockets are significantly more than the amount you have collected. Not very profitable is it?

Is there a surefire way that you could still be giving out red packets generously like Santa Claus without a beard but still decked in red? Or are we doomed to forever counting losses and having more red numbers in our personal accounts?

Solution:
This solution is only for those that run family businesses. Print yourself a stack of $5 vouchers and put them in your red packets instead of money. There will be only 2 outcomes - 1. They are disgusted at your cheapskate methods (Don't tell them who taught you this) and never want to see you again 2. They actually decide to come spend the money, and probably will end up paying more than $5. For those that are especially thick skinned, feel free to make sure there's an expiry date.

Problem 4:
Sore throats

Possibly the worst thing that anyone can have during Chinese New Year would be the (dare I say it?) sore throat. After a waiting a long year to finally taste that pineapple tart again, God seems to have a sudden urge for humour, and guess who's on the other end of the joke?

It's almost like taking the presents away from Christmas, or Mr Ken away from LA lessons. But yet there should be a way to be able to feast on these sinful CNY goodies (or baddies, since they do more harm than poison can, being so addictive). Is there...?

Solution:
Tupperwares are your friend. Bring one or two empty ones everywhere you go during visiting, and conveniently put your bag on your lap. Search around for a mirror in your bag, and act dismayed as you "left it at home". Politely ask your host for one, as as she panics to find something instead of the cracked one she always uses, take a few goodies from the table. Act natural and thank her nicely as she finally finds a presentable mirror. Rinse, repeat, and prepare to get an MC for 2 weeks after you feast on your stale collection.

No, there isn't a surefire way to solve this one =/

Don't ask why there're only 4 problems here. I'm kind of uninspired at the moment, but will update if I faced any problems that make it into this list. Till then, Happy Chinese New Year, and use at your own risk.

What My Chinese New Year Lacks.

2008-02-02T23:16:00.000-08:00

What My Chinese New Year Lacks.

I haven't really told anyone from school, but my mother has been hospitalised for a week. She had some complications from her last operation and her small intestine was affected somehow, and so for the past few days I've been living under the care of my aunties' and grandparents' care, who are conviniently and thankfully living just next door.

She was admitted last Sunday/Monday midnight, and I was stupidly sleeping through the whole time even when the ambulance came. Amazingly I had not heard a single thing and didn't know anything was wrong till I was woken up at the usual time of 6am by my aunty. I was a little moody the rest of the day, but tried not to let it get to me, since it being a Monday was bad enough.

I was hoping to be able to find time to visit her on Tuesday, and that plan couldn't have gone any worse. Sometime on Monday/Tuesday midnight, I woke up and discovered my temperature was practically burning. There goes my visit.

I tried to ignore it and only gave up when I put on my tie. The difference in comfort that piece of cloth wrapped around a neck was shocking. I fell back to sleep almost immediately and saw a doctor late in the morning. The rest of the day was dull, uncomfortable and basically just plain boring.

Thankfully, I was able to recover by the next day, and was well enough to go to school, albeit a little groggy. Still, it beat having to stay at home and worry about schoolwork - Somehow you feel the stress of school even more when you're at home.

However, I still had no chance to meet my mother, and was pretty busy till Saturday. It was then I had discovered I had been living without her for one whole week, and that I really... missed her. Also, that was the day when she would have her minor operation, and would probably be my last chance to see her before she undergoes that operation.

For some painfully annoying reason I was sick yet again, but this time I dragged myself to the hospital to finally meet her after 6 long days. I felt so much better just being able to see her, and talked for a very long time, a few hours on end. It really is weird thinking about who was the one who needed the visit more - Her or me?

I poured out the troubles I had for the past few days, and the worries for the next week. She answered them in the same warm, comforting way she always had - "Don't worry." "Just try your best!"

Her operation went well, but now the only thing I'm worried about is whether she'll be able to come back for Chinese New Year. Hopefully she'll be fine by then, and we can eat a reunion dinner without having to take turns to talk on the phone. That, and I'll pass the common test tomorrow.

A Taste of Love.

2008-01-26T02:30:00.000-08:00

A Taste of Love

I'll admit it. I really didn't felt like going for love letter making this morning when I got home late (as usual) from CCA last night. I wasn't in the mood for slaving over a hot tiny stove to fold and roll the fragile little pancakes and stuff slips of paper inside them. The only thing that dragged me out of my bed this morning was the fact that I'd promised a few people that I would go for it.

Even so, I arrived around 15 minutes late, entering a canteen with many people crowding around a table, watching the "expert" on how to make those simple snacks. Teachers, students and children alike were ready and waiting to start the long, arduous process.

I started working with Jia Teck on one of the pancake makers, and the first batch came out pretty badly, with most of the pancake being stuck to the, well, pan. We then spent another five minutes on scraping off the charred remains and reoiling the pan with a few swipes.

We worked a little faster on the second batch, quickly throwing the folded paper onto the letter and immediately folding them with both hands and chopsticks. It took us some time, but we got it done. I felt a little proud of my first creation. It may have not been professional, but hey, the paper was safe inside, and the letter itself was not unfolding.

A few songs (Obviously including the Happy Working Song) later, Sara, Shuqi, Jia Teck and I were getting used to the cycle - Pour batter, close, wait, put paper, fold, rinse and repeat. The only things breaking the monotony was us singing to whatever song that came up, and simple chats with everyone else.

The teachers were strategically crowded around the table near the television, as they wanted to watch a pretty exciting match for the Australian Open, and thus depriving me and Jia Teck of Pokemon, but then again we really didn't mind.

I also saw Mr Lim coming in his army uniform, and found out he actually came all the way back to the hostel from re-service just to offer a hand to help out in making the love letters. He declared that although he helped in the previous year, he has no recollection on how anything is done. No matter, as a few minutes later he was folding the delicate snacks as skillfully as any other one in the canteen.

Mr Yeo was interacting quite alot with the children, and also enlisted their help with the "project". They soon turned themselves into deliverymen and letter counters, making sure each class had enough. They seemed to be enthusiastic, and always were rewarded with multiple thanks and smiles. I looked at them, and wondered whether they ever though of growing up to be a Dunmanian.

I got some time to talk to Liang Wei and the Year Two guys who made much progress with the help of Mr Siva. I rarely talk to the Year Twos, but was glad that I was able to get a short albeit fun exchange with them.

Around some time, we saw one of the cleaners looking into the canteen, seemingly curious about what we were doing. Jia Teck thought of giving him some of the love letters, and he was very grateful, thanking us and promising to share with his colleagues. We also gave away some to any hostel people who dared to ask.

Mrs Theng came in halfway and was shocked to see what our love letters looked like so far, complaining it was too thick. Apparently, her method of making the love letters required half the amount of batter we'd been using for the past 2 hours, and we were quite surprised ourselves.

We also saw Mr Sng making time to bring his family down to help out for a while. His presence alone was greatly encouraging, and we saw yet again how humble a principal we had. He wasn't afraid to ask us anything - When the love letter he was folding crumbled, he gave me a look, somewhat meaning "What now?" I gave a little laugh saying "Don't worry, you can eat it."

The process of making these love letters were filled with warmth, a little from the pans, but so much more from the atmosphere of everyone spreading the new year cheer through this simple snack. I really didn't regret going for this, as I got a look at how much the teachers loved their students, and the effort they put in to give us this little bit of emotion - After all, these letters are all packed with an important ingredient - love.

Vocabulary

2008-01-23T04:05:00.000-08:00

Vocabulary

Gasp. Throughout all my posts so far, the language I've been using is near perfect english, and I try my best to not include any of the *ugh* emoticons into my posts, unless I'm feeling the monotony, or to make a effect (See post on how to relieve exam stress, sometime last year before EOYs, the first tip). I pride myself on being able to express my thoughts clearly, but the recent days with many, many friends have shown me many new interesting words and that there are many words that could have more than one meaning and then some.

Disclaimer: There is a very high chance that some of you will not understand the following words, but just have a look at it.

zOr: A word to express the slightest bit of surprise and awe at someone/something's ability e.g. "zOr" Yes, it's more suitable in one word.

Big big one: Although it can be taken literally, the lesser known meaning could be using it to replace the word "Jinx". Especially when you point at a friend's head while saying it e.g. "Big big one! (Point at friend's head frantically)"

差不多: According to CME teacher 许老师, the meaning of the word could mean describing a range around 20 years e.g. "我的分数和你的差不多，只少几十分而已."

Caffiene biscuit: The term for describing caffiene when it has hardened around the bottom of the evaporating dish e.g. "We were able to pick up the caffiene biscuit after Xue Xun broke the evaporating dish."

Abit: This word is meant to be taken sarcastically, emphasizing on a certain point e.g. "School is abit tiring. ABIT ONLY."

Muga no Kyouchi: Literally, "State of Self-Actualization". When someone attains this level of psychology, he is virtually unstoppable in anything he does e.g. "Han Ping is working hard to achieve Muga no Kyouchi."

Are/is: These two words are actually interchangable, and would thus create a unique effect in your sentence structure. More grammar mistakes are often found in the same sentence this structure is used. Why would anybody want to use it is still a mystery e.g. "I are speak no english."

By the way, feel free to request for any words that you want to add in here, whether I know it or not. There's a thing called "Blogger's impression".

Orientation outing suggestions

2008-01-11T22:34:00.000-08:00

Orientation Outings

A week after orientation, we're already thinking of when we can meet up as a committee together for our much looked-forward to outing. Yet there's always a possibility that we'll end up like the DHShine Committee, when they had to wait for a whole year just so that everyone could make it.

No, I do not want to wait a year. Although we cannot decide on the date, it doesn't hurt to plan out what we can do at any point of time. So here comes yet another stupid list blogpost, brought to you proudly by stopping2think.

January:
Go on an all out shopping spree for strictly red coloured clothes in preparation of February activity.

February:
Invite all committee members to each other's houses. Include relatives' homes if possible. Split Angpao money after all are collected.

March:
Celebrate my birthday.

April:
Mass audition for Campus Superstar. Cheer like mad if somebody actually makes it through. Leave him/her to worry about how he's going to tell his parents.

May:
Meet up to brainstorm about DHSOlympics 2009. AT KALLANG MACS.

June:
Busiest time of the year. Go Orchard Road, stop suddenly, point at the floor as if there was something blocking your way. Step over cautiously. Avoid eye contact.

July:
Spend 2 hours trying to help the Busker at the underpass get $100. Rob if you have to.

August:
Use every single neighbour, friend or relative's IC number to assemble 13 NDP tickets. Rob if you have to.

September:
If no outing till then, write petition for DHS Orientation Committee Day - Where committee gets one day off and a $200 budget for their outing.

October:
Skip school on October 1st for outing. If asked for reason of absence, explain clearly that it is Children's Day, and since we're unable to work due to "Child Labour", we are definitely Children.

November:
We should have many opportunities to go out. One usually does when you get expelled by skipping school and coming up with stupid excuses.

December:
Go door to door carolling. Ask for Red Packets. Get thrown out.
for myself: cry that i'm not in the committee =(

Stopping to Think...

Drive

Falling

Where I Belong

The Rain

Somebody to Lean On

High Enough

Sweat and Tears

Dream

Routined Disaster

All Tied Up

Appreciation

Dedication

365 Days of Gratitude

Christmas Presents

Falling for Hong Kong

Pom Rak SC!

We are family

Stray Cats

Top 10 Worst Things About Post Exams

David Letterman

Rant.

"I Have Just Met You, And I Love You!"

Moving House

10 Photos From My Phone

Top 10 Ways to Fake That H1N1 Infection

PARABLES GOTTA CATCH'EM ALL

Make It Mine.

8 Ways to Get That Level Camp Feeling

Why so serious?

Quiz

10 Reasons Why I Couldn't Go Out on Valentine's Day

I'm baaaaack!

Direction for a Year

The Rubber Band

Moving Day

Testify.

Cause and Effect

A Little Colour has Returned

The Rednecks (Exams) are Coming!

"Don't want leh?"

Good Day

music test

SC Survivor

love today

Fast+Fresh

Art in the blog

My Best Friend.

Simon Says

A laugh was had...

APRIL FOOLS MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

The Doctor Is In

You sure that wasn't his sister?

跑吧，孩子！

bad mood

81 Hearts, One Family.

TO BE DONE

Where's the love?

Surviving Chinese New Year.

What My Chinese New Year Lacks.

A Taste of Love.

Vocabulary

Orientation outing suggestions