Hoho this is so amusing. Matthewseet has been nomiated Prom King by his class hohoho.

I hope he gets through hee hee hee.

I don't usually do this.

But I am very happy today, because I passed NAPFA with a silver, which means I won't be shipped off to some tekong island right after prom! No rolling around in mud and filth right after the night of glitz and glam! No early induction into the ways of the military!

Yes I am very satisfied today.

Ow papercut.

12 to 1 is the dangerous hour. The hour when the world is asleep and you are not quite sure why you're still awake. It is the hour when brooding notions enter your mind. When despairs seeps in. 12 - 1 is the hour of Self-Piteous Thoughts, when the pit is at its widest.

In times like this we turn to people, or we go to sleep.

When we turn to people we expect a sympathetic ear. After all, most of us are more or less aware that we are indulging in self-pity when we whine. It is cathartic after all, and at the same time an indulgence in the ego, whining is always done so intensely or eloquently so as to portray the hapless whiner as trapped in a solution-proof crisis of catastrophic proportions that no one can understand or solve. But at the end of the day we all know what must be done.

And when we sleep? Oblivion, or dreams.

If I didn't know better I'd swear firas is -
Oh wait I don't.

Aye Aye am very happy. Have succeeded at self-discipline for 4 days! Now everything just needs to go my way and I won't get pissy.

Well actually, truth be told I've just traded in one evil for another. I downloaded maplestory out of utter boredom and pissiness one day and now all I do at home is whack up bouncing orange mushrooms.

In other news - I have to go to school at 7:30 now. I need to find things to inspire me to wake up other than brian ang's pissed-off face, which really will only have an effect for a few days, knowing me. Mmhm.

I swear though school is the utter waste of time, lessons are boring, no one notices if I don't show up anyway, and I'd be much better off at home whacking up slimeballs and studying. At home I'm in my element, at school I feel pissy. I swear the earlier I get out of the wretched institution the better off I'll be - if school weren't so downright sucky I wouldn't need to find all these methods of escape.

Is depresssing! The drab white-green-hospital-esque architecture, the dirty grey cement that makes the place look like a concrete prison. The off-white-green walls and dark blue chairs everything in this bleeding school lacks vibrancy. The only colourful place are the little small rooms on the third and fourth levels, but it's always taken up by twitty J1s and other J2s who rush to those rooms to mug. Miss Kathleen Tan is one of them very irritating when I want some isolation from school I run up to the 3rd floor and I see Miss Kathleen Tan doing her econs furiously in one of them. ALWAYS you know. Pisses the hell out of me.

Plus its always raining these days the bloody corridors are like a sewer lah there are puddles of disgusting blackish water lying around. I have to tiptoe around school, so that my precious new shoes don't get soaked in god-knows-what's-been-in-there water. And the place starts to smell whenever it rains. It smells of new concrete. The smell of a new building is intolerable. So, weather bad, environment bad, mood bad.

How do you keep your spirits up when the first thing you see right out the school windows is a FREAKING columbarium?! The air smells of smoke, and subconsciously, dead bodies. RJC, new or old, is not a conducive environment to study in. Heck, to call it an ENVIRONMENT even is being euphemistic. A hellhole would be more accurate. Mildly appropriate if you ask me, first this living hellhole, next up the fires of the columbarium. It's a wonder no one's committed suicide.

And don't get me started on classes. It would make me say alot of things that aren't fit for publishing. Suffice to say that there are only that many classes worth going for. The rest would be more productive if they were Breaks.

Forgive me if I sound whiny - I think in terms of complaint.

My ass hurts from playing maplestory too much. I need new chairs, or to play maplestory less.

I'm fine I'm fine.

It is, after all, very unseemly to just collapse into pieces and become a blubbering sobbing slump. Tsktsk. So undignified.

Yes anyway the new mantra of my life is self-respect. Which I must stop throwing away so easily. Mhmm so therefore I shall start by saying no to the badbad things that I do in dark secluded staircases. One step at a time! Just keep chanting "no no no no" and I'll be fine.

Oh dear what if I become a prude now?

Very randomly -

I'm developing a very unhealthy attraction to this bracelet-watch that my mother bought for HERSELF. It isn't very gorgeous or anything, but I'm just drawn to it. I suspect soon I shall wear it and find it actually looks quite good on me and then make another fatal fashion disaster.

Sigh.

Aye forget this. Just help me escape.

I'm remembering what smriti told me a long time ago, and in times like this I'm thankful you said no.

This is terrible I think I've split myself in two.

You should know something -
This isn't me.

Nope it isn't. I lost little old me a long time ago. So don't expect sincerity here. This is what all of you want to see, no wait - This is what I want to see.

You coined the term yixun - This is projectego.

In other news. Matthewseet's livejournal is annoying. Almost as annoying as Ken Jom's essay that Veluri photostacted. I may be annoying in hiding behind cliches and being afraid to say what I want to say, but these people lie at the other end of the spectrum. The disgusting self-indulgence and delusion is nauseating. The worst part is that they really don't have anything to back up these pompous claims.

If you think about it being conformist and being as deliberately different as possible are not quite polar opposites. In the end both seek to cover the self - the conformist assimilates into the collective identity, while the rebel uses it as a battering shield - all to cover up our fundamental insecurities about the moderate self we hide from the world.

Love is escape.

Watch people, watch as they hook up in pairs and walk away from this world. Love is escape, it is, as Nette has told me Nicole Kidman said, two people agreeing to step into a fantasy bubble. Everything I have read has agreed on this: Love is defiance of the world, the escape from the Creator's Model as Milan Kundera puts it, or as Jeanette Winterson puts it, an escape like death.

Who would want to return to this world, once we have tasted love? Love, love, where time stops and there is only you and me. When they do return they are changed, burned, jaded, more mellow. Like embers clinging on for a breath of life-

They yearn for one more chance to escape and die.

Hellohello

Chalet fees are overdue! And as chee has VERY POLITELY reminded me, they need to be collected. Which means those of you who came and didn't stay pay SGD18, those who stayed pay SGD36 because we had such a measly number of people. Total bill's about 360 with drinks, yesyes so do pay.

(This is really more of a personal reminder, actually)

I'm now taking a momentary break from math before the letters X and Y drive me insane. I swear math is the devil. Even studying history would be less torturous I swear grrr all these numbers dancing aroung the page in parabolic curves.

Math aside, once I'm done with this rather do-able inequalities tutorial I shall probably annotate another poem on frost before I continue on with The Powerbook. It is getting abit repetitive, though, as Winterson sometimes does. I mean, repetition for emphasis must be applied with caution, or it can lead to repetition ad nauseum. Nevertheless, its a good book for my idle horny mind to dwell upon just before I slumber off to lalaland. Especially the cover. Such tasteful nudity hehehe.

Yes but it's true you know. Book covers are very important. There is, after all, a reason why the dusty old versions are still stuck on the bookshelves, and why they need to continually find new covers to reprint classics. After all, apart from enriching the mind, books are also ornaments to be kept on a bookshelf.

I suppose I should insert a little bit here about CTs, which I am sincerely quite happy about, given the effort I've put in. We all need those little assurances that the effort we're putting in is getting us somewhere, and these CTs, beside Math of course, have been reassuring. Reassuring, but one must be careful of complacency.

Moonlight streams in from the window above. I curl up in my bed, dreaming of you as Jeanette Winterson educates me on love.

Okay forgive me. I must romanticize my life after all.

Hmm. It appears I have learnt nothing from The Powerbook.

Do you believe in love after love?

You know I've developed a penchant for the low-sounding women. Toni Braxton, Annie Lennox, and now Cher. Maybe this is just trans-gender confusion setting in again.

This self-hate is most uncharacteristic -
I really hope this passes.

This stinks.

I'm alone at home now. Normally I would enjoy the liberty and freedom that comes with the absence of my mother, but I just feel plain shitty now. I've rearranged my room, placing the hi fi speakers at the sweetspots for sound, but that provides little distraction. Not even the booming bass is enough to fill this room now.

It's too empty.

Okay after that incredibly gross episode with my toenails, I come to you now, blogging with clean-cut toes that could do with a little filing and buffing.

And Then I find I have nothing to say -
So hence, Goodnight Ladies and Gentlemen,
Yes, the fifteen to thirty of you that come here each day -
May my next entry be more hygienic and fitting to your tastes.

The latest installment in the toenail saga -
They are all in the bin now.

There are white spots on this toenail
I hope it isn't fungus.

This is even more intriguing -
I can split my toenail into three

My toenails are incredibly hard.
This nailclipper just won't do

I have connected my computer to my Hifi System!

Hahaha I'm now at home playing all my sound samples and revelling in the sound. Is abit crackly at times though I suspect the connection is weak.

I pity my neighbours

I am very upset. Very Very Upset. Completely Totally Upset. Four thousand years will not be enough to alleviate the distress I feel now. And you know that when I use hyperbole I am hardly ever serious.

But I am upset! My plans for this weekend have been dashed. To smithereens. I suppose I shall have to shelve everything I planned for another day. Oh woe betide me.

My day has been utterly ruined!

Whinewhinewhine.

I am not myself today. I don't think I shall go school tomorrow.

I am filled with the emotions of others right now, dread, heartbreak, hope, confusion. It is strange, to be a vessel for these emotions which have no direct cause. I feel the heavy limbed weight of dread, the agonising ache of disappointment, the fantastical fluttering of hope and the whirl of confusion all at once. It is not tearing me apart, I am strong with these things. But nevertheless, I lose sense of myself. I cannot concentrate on this source based study I'm supposed to be doing.

I must do something. I must distract the dread, I must uplift disappointment, I must delude with hope, and I must sort out confusion. I must do something, but I cannot. The causes are not my own, I cannot find the solutions. Forgive me if I stumble, I am only trying to find your way in the dark. Or am I?

Rage has not infected me. No, emotions foreign to you do not demand that you do something for them as well. You do not understand his indignance, you do not understand his rage, you do not understand his betrayal. Can you really assert altruism in your efforts? I don't think so -

Catharsis must occur - You are really as selfish as anyone else Tim.

Will you all stop hurting yourselves you sadomasochists!
Only I'M allowed to be the pervert here!

As you fall
Over me
Think of me
Think of me
Think of me
Think of me
Only me.

Kiss the rain
Whenever you need me
Kiss the rain
Whenever I'm gone too long
If your lips
Feel lonely and thirsty
Kiss the rain
And wait for the dawn
Keep in mind
We're under the same sky
And the nights
As empty for me as for you
If you feel
You can't wait till morning
Kiss the rain
Kiss the rain
Kiss the rain.

I think I've found a new favourite song. Abit old, true. But well.

I think - Please don't laugh now.

Nah. Anyway, I think the underlying issue of every human relationship is this: Emotional dependency. All relationships are defined by the degrees of emotional dependency, not just your dependency on the other, but also his/her dependency on you. The further the disparity between the two, the more messed up the relationship tends to get, I should think.

Take the example of a mother and son/daughter relationship. Mothers, especially, are extremely emotionally dependent on their children, they confide in their children, they love their children, they understand their children in a way no other human being can, and therefore come to be inextricably affected by their actions and decisions. Yet there comes a time when the mother must realize that she must step out of her offspring's life: She cannot allow her offspring to take up so much of her heart because inevitably, the son/daughter will leave. It is a painful realization that must occur though.

It arises from the conflicts of love, as I've learned in litS. The conflicts of love, because the daughter/son will come to love himself, his friends, and his life more than his mother. One could also say that the child becomes less emotionally dependent on his mother, he finds friends to confide in, he finds partners to cuddle with, he finds acquaintances who do not demand the tiresome level of tact and understanding a mother demands as a result of her emotional dependency. Perhaps they are part of the same thing.

I'm no expert on human relationships - I don't think anyone is as well. But, if you would forgive how unqualified I am, and give in to my assertion of equating emotional dependency with love, we see how maintaing love really is a balancing act, because disparity in the dependency will eventually kill love. I would think thats why relationships go bad - When we start out we find the dependency alluring - to take care of someone for men, and to be taken care of for women. (a gross simplification, I know, but let's stick with stereotypes). But as we go along the level of dependency changes. One finds that he's always listening to the other's problems, and becomes tired of it. One finds that the other is indifferent to what he does, and decides to drift from it. One is hurt that the other doesn't show the level of care and concern he expects, and cries over it. Too much, too little, too wide a disparity in the level of dependency is probably what kills relationships - we have to adjust accordingly.

To commit too much feeling too quickly to someone is fatal, when you don't know how dependent s/he is on you. Too much will stifle him. Too little is not so much of a problem, since the other cannot expect more in return, the worst is that the other will give up hope, and if that happens you haven't exactly "lost" anything. But give him too much and he will become complacent, because as becky the wise has once wisely told me, why does the other have to commit anything when s/he already "has" you in that sense? Give exactly how much the other is prepared to give as well - that takes intelligence and perception to figure out, and alot of experience. But I'm sure I'll get it right one day.

I think I have. For now.

I am about to cough.

You write beautifully?

Now I have coughed.

Hadri I think you're right you know the heyas have this whole network in school where they gather online and say nasty bitchy things that reveal the truth - they too are no more beautiful than us inside, no more talented than us, and no less arrogant or bitchy as their harmless facades would like us to believe. And it is a pity - the self delusion is simply nauseating.

I really did want to blog something today.
But since I am devoid of anything to say, this is all I have to write.

I insist that I am not a pervert for saying that the strip club scene with Natalie Portman in Closer will stay in my mind forever.

Oh crap guess what as I was about to pop off to sleep I realize that I have a presentation due tomorrow. Absolutely wonderful.

I am still bored. I have asked Hadri what to do with this newfound boredom with life. I have also asked Weixian. Hadri has, as usual, given me nonsensical answers. Except for that little bit about having a dream to give direction. Weixian has told me I don't have time to make my life interesting anyway, given the As. Which is also true.

So since I have found no solution to this problem, I shall just throw this problem away. Time to find a new thing to whine about.

I dwell on things too long anyway.

Identifying too much with a fictional character is never a good thing.
The simple reason - All fictional characters are screwed up.
In their own right.

Now if all fictional characters are screwed up, and these characters are but figments of the author's imagination, we can say that the author's imagination is screwed up. If the author's imagination is screwed up, part of his brain is screwed up, and since, seeing how brains function, you cannot have only a PART of your brain screwed up, therefore whole brain must be screwed up. Since we think, therefore we are, so if our brain is screwed up our thinking is screwed up, and so is our existence.

I really am quite bored. That made absolutely no sense I can't even construct a proper argument, with all the weak links and unsteady foundation this one has. I suppose there has to be fictional characters that aren't screwed up, now lets see. Hmm. Oh dear the "screwed up brain" seems to have shut down that thought branch as a defense mechanism against its screwed up logic.

Can you? Even Snow White had her moment of stupidity, Cinderella and Rapunzel had poor lots in life, The Three Little Pigs had to lose two houses, Aladdin longed for a love that had to be wished for by cosmic mystical genies, and Beauty and the Beast was a premature love story.

What happens after Happily Ever After? Does Snow White develop an irrational phobia for Apples? Does Cinderella become pampered and spoilt, after rising to riches from rags? Does Rapunzel ever cut her hair? Do the three little pigs suffer domestic violence? Can Aladdin deal with the inferiority complex that every street rat who marries a princess must go through?

And most saddening of all - What if Beauty doesn't love Beast anymore because he isn't hairy and scary? If you ask me Prince Charming looked really pussified. I liked Beast better. At least the Disney one. With the furry mane and the regal purple cloak. So much more majestic and dignified.

I'm rambling nonsense again.

There's school tmrw! Or today. Whichever you choose.

I am languishing with boredom. Being the jaded disillusioned teenager is a stereotype that's boring to fall into, boring to play out, and too comfortably boring. Boring-boring-boring. I'm not sick of it. I'm just bored. In the way the owner watches his dog chase its tail. It isn't a "I hate my life fuck the world" angst that would perhaps be more inspired or at least petulant. No, it's I am bored - That is a fullstop at the end of this sentence. And this one. So is this. Yes that kind of boredom.

Or maybe I'm just sleepy.

[edit] I could be interesting now but I might blow your mind. Away. To smithereens. So tata and goodnight. [/edit]

Have finished watching Closer. Am now in a state of emo-ness, to use liyana's terms.

Is so sad. Sigh.

Anyway, I have of course done what I set out to do right after CTs - Get Piss Drunk. Which I did last night, with minimal vomitting! Haha ah yes while the taste of alcohol may suck balls it's all worth the delirious happiness and all that uninhibited talk. The world seems so full of possibilities, everything seems to be open to change.

I'm losing control, falling falling.

Anyway, since I couldn't go up to my house looking like a red lobster I stoned around at my swimming pool, and called up alot of people to keep me entertained. I think my phone bill has skyrocketed by now. And when I got tired of talking I just lay down and looked at the sky, with the stars dancing in my drunken stupor.

And then it was time to go back up.

I hate multiple punctuation marks. It's very grating. Why the heck do people feel the urge to type with mutliple question marks?????? Or exclamation marks!!!!!

There is a limit to these things, as well as my patience. ONE question mark. (?) Or exclamation mark. (!) To express extreme disbelief/shock you may mix the two. (?!) NOTHING MORE.

So annoying.

Boys and Girls of Every Age
Wouldn't you like to see something strange?

I watched Nightmare Before Christmas yesterday. And I've just watched Home at the End of the World.

The book was much better. The movie turned it into mostly a single perspective from Bobby, which took away alot of the tension between the three characters that one experiences when reading the book. As a story illustrative of the relationships between three people and one mother, in choosing to use four perspective the book achieves an intimacy with the characters and hence a deeper understanding of their frustrations and failures that the movie loses in its one-sided rendition.

That sounded mildly like a lit essay. Oh well. Clearly not out of commons mood yet.

Next on the DVD watching spree - Closer. Have watched abit, beginning is good although the crash scene is a little corny. But since I experienced too many disruptions in my home I think I shall watch it again tomorrow when the house is quiet in the afternoon. Good movies require privacy and immersion.

Perhaps I'll embark on Lost In Translation before giving it to Yixun. Oh wait he already has it. Ey I remember I promised him something else, but I forgot what it was. Oh well. Finally, must rewatch Eternal Sunshine. No movie has ever made me happier.

Kirsten Dunst is so pretty in the movie! In the Gwyneth Paltrow kind of way. Tragic kind.

On a side note: The females in these four movies all have red hair. Sally, Clare, Alice (in the beginning), and Clementine. Interesting. What is it with women and red hair?

I'm bored.
Let's go procure a life Tim.

CTs are over and this post is one day overdue.

LitS was okay I guess. I didn't feel very insightful doing it though, so although I spam pages as I always do in Lit, I don't think I'll do very well.
Maths was a pleasant surprise! I think I can pass! Hoho.

I'm Hungry. I have weird Cravings I think I'm pregnant.