Meticulous Musings

2011-12-21T02:44:00.001+08:00

10: Don't let another day go by without taking a chance on happiness.

離婚酒店

2011-09-10T02:36:00.003+08:00

他和她結婚整整10年了，夫妻間已經沒有任何衝動與情趣，他越來越覺得自己對她幾乎就是一種程式與義務，他開始厭煩起了她，尤其是單位新調進了一個年輕活潑的女孩，對他發起了瘋狂的進攻，他突然覺得她是自己的第二春，經過再三考慮，他決定和她離婚..

她似乎也麻木了，很平靜地答應了他，兩個人一起走進了民政部門..

手續辦得很順利，出門後，兩個人已經是各自獨立的自由人了，不知為什麼，他心裡突然有種空落落的感覺，他看了看她：“天已經晚了，一起去吃點飯吧..”

她看了看他：“好吧，聽說新開了一家「離婚酒店」，專門執行離婚夫婦的最後一頓晚餐，要不咱們到那兒去看看。 ” 他點了點頭，兩人一前一後默默地走進了離婚酒店。

“先生女士晚上好。” 二人在包廂剛坐下，服務小姐便走了進來，“請問兩位想吃點兒什麼？”

他看了看她：“你點吧..” 她搖了搖頭：“我不常出來，不太清楚這些，還是你點吧。”

“對不起先生女士，我們離婚酒店有個規矩，這頓飯必須要由女士點先生平時最愛吃的菜，由先生點女士平時最愛吃的菜，這叫「最後的記憶」。 ” ¬

“那好吧，” 她理了理頭髮，“清蒸魚、溜蘑菇、拌木耳，記住，都不要放蔥薑蒜，我先生.. 這位先生他不吃這些。”

“先生呢？” 服務小姐看了看他。

他愣住了.. 結婚10年，他真的不知道老婆喜歡吃什麼。他張著嘴，尷尬地愣在了那兒..

“就這些吧，其實這是我們兩個人都愛吃的。”她連忙打起了圓場。 ¬

服務小姐笑了笑：“說實話，到我們離婚酒店來吃這最後一頓晚餐，所有的先生和女士其實都吃不下去什麼，所以這「最後的記憶」咱們還是不要吃了吧。就喝我們酒店特意為所有離婚人士準備的晚餐– 冷飲吧，這也是所有來的人都不拒絕的選擇..”

他與她都點了點頭：“那就來冷飲吧..”

很快，服務小姐送來了兩份冷飲，兩份飲料中一份淡藍一片，全是冰渣，一份滿杯紅潤，冒著熱氣。

“這份晚餐名叫「一半是火焰，一半是海水」，兩位慢用。 ”服務小姐介紹完退了下去。

包房裡靜悄悄的，兩個人相對而坐，一時竟不知道該說什麼好..

“篤篤篤！” 輕輕一陣敲門聲，服務小姐走了近來，托盤里托著一枝鮮豔的紅玫瑰：“先生，還記得您第一次給這位女士送花的情景嗎？現在一切都結束了，夫妻不成就當朋友，朋友要好聚好散，最後為女士送朵玫瑰吧..”

她渾身一抖，眼前又浮現出了10年前他給她送花的情景，那時，他們剛剛來到這座舉目無親的省城，什麼都沒有，一切從零開始。白天，他們四處找工作，努力拼搏.. 晚上，為了增加收入，她去晚市出小攤，他去給人家刷盤子。很晚很晚，他們才一起回到租住在地下室裡那不足10平米的小屋。日子很苦，可他們卻很幸福..

到省城的第一個情人節那天，他為自己買了第一朵紅玫瑰，她幸福得流下了眼淚.. 10年了，一切都好起來了，可兩個人卻走向了分離。她想著想著，淚水盈滿了雙眼，她擺了擺手說：“不用了..”

他也想起了過去的10年，他這才記起，自己已經有五六年沒有給她買過一枝玫瑰了.. 他擺了擺手：“不，要買..”

服務小姐卻拿起了玫瑰，“刷刷”兩下撕成了兩半，分別扔進了兩個人的飲料杯裡，玫瑰竟然溶解在了飲料裡。

“這是我們酒店特意用糯米製成的紅玫瑰，也是送給你們的第三道菜，名叫「映景的美麗」。先生女士慢用，有什麼需要直接叫我。 ”服務小姐說完，轉身走了出去..

“我.. ..” 他一把握住她的手，有些說不出話來..

她抽了抽手，沒有抽動，便不再動彈。兩個人靜靜地對視著，什麼也說不出來。

“啪！” 突然，燈熄了，整個包房裡漆黑一片，外面警鈴大作，一股煙味兒飄了進來。

“怎麼了？” 兩個人急忙站了起來。

“店起火了，大家馬上從安全通道走！快！” 外面，有人聲嘶力竭地喊了起來。

“老公！” 她一下撲進了他的懷裡：“我怕！”

“別怕！”他緊緊摟住她：“ 親愛的，有我呢.. 走，往外衝！”

包廂外面燈光通明，秩序井然，什麼都沒有發生。

服務小姐走了過來：“對不起，先生女士，讓兩位受驚了。酒店並沒有失火，煙味兒也是特意往包房裡放的一點點，這是我們的第四道菜，名叫「內心的選擇」。請回包廂..”

他和她回到了包廂，燈光依舊。

他一把拉她：“親愛的，服務小姐說得對，剛才那才是你我內心真正的選擇..其實，我們誰都離不開誰，明天咱們重新結婚吧？”

她咬了咬嘴唇：“你願意嗎？”

“我願意，我現在什麼都明白了，明天一早咱就去辦結婚。小姐，買單..” 他說著喊了起來。 ¬

服務小姐走了近來，遞給兩人一人一張精緻的紅色清單： “先生女士好，這是兩位的帳單，也是本酒店的最後一道贈品，名叫「永遠的帳單」，請兩位永遠保存吧..”

他看著帳單，眼淚淌了下來。 “你怎麼了？” 她連忙問道。他把帳單遞給了她：“親愛的，我錯了，我對不起你..”

她打開帳單一看，只見上面寫著：

~~~

一個溫暖的家，

兩隻操勞的手，

三更不熄等您歸家的燈，

四季注意身體的叮囑，

無微不至的關懷，

六旬婆母的微笑，

起早貪黑對孩子的照顧，

八方維護您的威信，

九下廚房為了您愛吃的一道菜，

十年為您逝去的青春..

這就是您的妻子..

~~~

“老公，您辛苦了，這些年也是我冷漠了你。” 她也把自己的那份帳單遞給了他。他打開帳單，只見上面寫著：

~~~

一個男人的責任，

兩肩挑起的重擔，

三更半夜的勞累，

四處奔波的匆忙，

無法傾訴的委屈，

留在臉上的滄桑，

七姑八姨的義務，

八上八下的波折，

九優一疵的凡人，

時時對家對子的真情..

這就是您的丈夫..

~~~

兩個人抱在一起，放聲痛哭..

結完帳，他和她對經理千恩萬謝，手牽手走回了家。看著他們幸福的背影，經理微笑著點了點頭：“真幸福，我們離婚酒店又挽救了一個家..”

取之：分享

2011-02-20T21:45:00.005+08:00

"...You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."
— Rosemary Urquico

Thanks for the tag. ;)

Interlude

2010-05-04T10:33:00.005+08:00

What's comin' will come, and we'll meet it when it does.
- J.K Rowling

Foreseeability, Or Lack Thereof

2010-04-29T08:51:00.002+08:00

Every single one of our actions may have far-reaching, unpredictable consequences.

Glass

2010-04-22T15:26:00.004+08:00

Therein lies a sliver of glass

Amongst the moon-coloured grass

Translucent, luminous, deadly.

Why, do you remember

The tales of yesternight?

Of quiet screams and loud silence?

Swathed in their purple robes of moonlight

The silvery wisps of grass remain tranquil

Bearing rust-stained crowns upon their heads

An elegance rivalled only by kings and queens.

And the tiny piece of glass

Grinned as radiantly

As only glass can.

Appreciation; Present

2010-03-27T12:30:00.006+08:00

People say that one should always live in the present and appreciate their loved ones. But I appreciate them too much, so much so that I'd wish my youth away in order for me to be able to draw near to them. I wonder if I'd look back on this with regret? I suppose not.

挥霍岁月，只求人团，

My youth is useless if I can't have my loved ones with me.

人生如船，爸妈如帆。换我划船好吗？

I wish...

2010-03-21T22:57:00.001+08:00

I wish I didn't have to worry so much. I wish I could peek forward into the future. I wish I could take control of my life. I feel helpless now. Can't wait.

What are the different marriages that Jane Eyre, as a novel, explores as possibilities?

2010-03-20T00:29:00.000+08:00

In the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, the society’s expectations of marriages were meticulously criticized through the various different marriages that emerged as possibilities. The heroine, Jane perceived marriage as a relationship that consisted of two equal partners. This contradicted the Victorian society’s general take on marriages, whereby the wife played a traditionally subservient role.

Jane Eyre stepped into Thornfield as a governess and was attracted to Edward Rochester, her employer of substantial status and wealth. Jane herself was of an ambiguous class for while she possessed the delicate manners and sophisticated education akin to an aristocrat due to the very nature of her career, she remained a paid employee and more or less a servant at Thornfield. However, while intellectually equal, she was not quite his social and economical equal. The young maiden was worried that she would be indebted to him by “condescending” to marry Rochester. She rejected Rochester’s nickname for and refused to be called an ‘angel’ simply because she thought it compromised herself and she did not wish to lose her identity in the process. This possibility was further impeded by the fact that Rochester already been married to Bertha Mason. While Rochester was legally bound to Mason, Jane would only be a mistress had she accepted Rochester. This was not in accordance with the equal partnership that Jane had envisioned and therefore, it was not an ideal marriage. The damsel had to leave Thornton Hall to seek her fortune elsewhere due to the unfavorable circumstances.

Another marriage conferred in the novel would obviously be the marriage between Rochester and Bertha Antoinetta Mason. While by Victorian society’s standards this may have been an ideal marriage, it was certainly not so as depicted in Bronte’s illustrious novel. As was typical of Victorian marriages, it was nothing more than a financially beneficial match. Apart from the fact that they had nothing in common and Rochester could not stand her, Bertha had a family history of psychiatric problems and she soon showed signs of madness. Therefore, it was an unsuccessful marriage for they were not intellectual equals and Rochester had to seek gratification in the few mistresses he acquired.

Blanche Ingam’s marriage with Rochester was a fleeting possibility that made a brief appearance in the novel, Jane Eyre. This was however, unfeasible as it was centered upon economical and class factors, rather than actual passion. Rochester also had an affair with Celene Varens, a French opera dancer who was unfaithful to him and was merely interested in his money. This relationship too, lacked the passion that was the foundation of a good marriage and hence considered to be inappropriate.
Next, one would be inclined to momentarily examine the possibility of St. John Rivers with Miss Oliver. St. John did love her, but he was unable to give up his dreams of being a missionary for her. A marriage between St. John and Jane was consequently considered. Nevertheless, it did not have the equality and love that Jane sought. St. John was overtly bound to his duties and he merely viewed Jane as an instrument in achieving the greater good. He wanted Jane to stop learning German and learn Hindustani instead. Jane as a result, felt as if she had lost her individuality and thus, a marriage between the religiously devout St. John and the headstrong Jane Eyre would not have had been ideal.

The audacious female protagonist eventually returned to Rochester after she was reunited with her relations and had inherited a substantial amount of money. Rochester on the other hand, was blinded in an accident that had burnt down Thornfield. Those various factors caused the fair maiden and the gentleman to finally achieve a status of equality where. Bertha as a barrier had been removed for the general message of the novel would not have had come across as strongly as it had otherwise. Her divorce, rather than her demise, would not have viable as it may have added on to the immoralities upon Rochester’s scroll. Charlotte Bronte perfectly penned the conclusion of this novel by destroying all that was unseemly through a fire. One might even venture to compare the fire with the fiery passion between Jane and Edward Rochester for it was the fire that conveniently humbled Rochester and removed the mental walls between the both of them. To quote, “We are precisely suited in character, perfect concord is the result.”

*Note that I have yet to include an analysis of Miss Temple's marriage in this novel.

2010-03-02T13:32:00.001+08:00

還執著舊，孔雀展翅至何時？
敗迷失路，良機降來至何時？
無不摧毀，匆匆數陰將過時。
醒悟拒絕，堅定不移不忘時。

Valentine's Day

2010-02-14T12:27:00.001+08:00

Celebrations serve as a reminder of all that is special, all that we believe in. Some people take things for granted. I assume I am guilty of this too, in certain ways that I am unaware of, simply because I have been taking them for granted. Nevertheless, I can’t quite say that I'd been living in a happy little bubble of ignorance.

I appreciate my parents. There is undeniably a generation gap between us and I may not be able to comprehend them at times due to this, but a lack of understanding does not necessitate a lack of love. I know that deep down inside, they love and care for me, even if they do not parade it in ways I can relate to.

I appreciate my friends. They are the people that have been with me through thick-and-thin, the people that are there for me right where it matters. They are the people that make my life so much more colourful and brighten the darkest skies.

In short, thank you, everyone - whoever you are, wherever you may be – thank you for brushing shoulders with me upon the crossroads of Life. So many people have played in part in helping me get through my life and I am sincerely grateful to all of you. I love you all.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Sleeping Beauty

2009-12-16T02:15:00.000+08:00

…Thus the beautiful princess awoke from her slumber and cried out in agony upon seeing the dreary be-cobwebbed dusty ruins around her. The castle was encased in an impassable thicket of thorns, wherein lurked all forms of abominable creatures. Indeed, the princess unleashed her fury upon the knight in shining armour who besought to free her from her enchantment and so cast him out, locking the doors of the castle behind him. After the deed was done, she returned to her chambers and fell asleep once again, awaiting the arrival of her one true knight that would not rudely shove her into dismal reality. And while she slept, she continued her illusionary life in a dream that was only as beautiful as dreams can be...

Dedication

2009-11-03T00:18:00.003+08:00

You have my sincerest condolences. I don't even know you that well myself, but I teared upon realising that the person in question was in fact, someone I knew, and also the beloved of another acquaintance of mine.

No names are mentioned. This is dedicated to the acquaintance. You may never read this - in fact, it's probably best if you don't, for it might do nothing more than serve as a reminder of the tragedy.

It is truly devastating and I can barely imagine the pain you are going through at the moment. I'm sorry it had to happen. Please stay strong. Remember your friends, and the people around you - we all genuinely care and are willing to be by your side if you need any help. Take care and stay strong. Live life to the fullest - for her sake if not yours.

I am sure she would have wanted you to be happy.

冰淇淋

2009-04-13T18:19:00.000+08:00

冰冷的冰淇淋，滋润人的心田，甜入烘热的心窝。

My Library is Non-Existent because that's My Room

2009-02-04T21:45:00.004+08:00

What Kind of Reader Are You? Your Result: Obsessive-Compulsive Bookworm You're probably in the final stages of a Ph.D. or otherwise finding a way to make your living out of reading. You are one of the literati. Other people's grammatical mistakes make you insane.

What Kind of Reader Are You? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Rain

2008-08-27T22:03:00.000+08:00

The breeze brushed its cold fingers across one's senses
With just the right touch of course -
A barest hint of tenderness within icy strictness
Instead of deadening dreams, a wakening.

Off with those sandals
Upon the table as naughty vandals
Yet sit - not perch - with a graceful air
As the weaving of dreams caresses fine hair.

Demurely folded hands upon a lap
Feet tucked neatly beneath her chair
(Chair, did I say, table I mean!)
In imitation of a lady fair.

Umbrellas parade the street ahead disguised
As colourful flowers spreading their petals
Behind, the lush green trees of a miniature forest
Whispered unknown secrets

Rain, wash away this empty longing
Wind, guide every strand of hair where you would
Mist, envelop those wistful musings
Of a young maiden approaching eighteen winters.

A dream of the past.

2008-06-25T22:47:00.001+08:00

A photograph, deliberately blurred around the edges,

A smile, strangely shadowy and detached.

Tinkling peals of laughter accentuated with sadness,

Those soft enquiring eyes of yesteryears caught unaware.

The maiden I could have been, the lady I am not,

A slight breeze brushing past, as the fingers of destiny intervene.

The briefest glimpse of what would have been had I a different lot,

A soft ache of inexplicable longing, not quite pain.

Alas, this fragile reality entraps me,

A soft web of gossamer silk binds me.

Though somehow I regret not,

Traversing this passage of moonlight as Time passes by.

Muse – Who am I?

An Economics Lesson

2008-06-17T20:17:00.000+08:00

Being told to use specific economical terms to write a story about a boy, my classmates and I came up with this within the stipulated time period:

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Muthusamy Karupiah. He asked his mother for some money. He said, “I demand some money!”

His mother said, “No dear, the current economic status of the country is undergoing inflation because the supply of natural resources is limited. The National Income is facing a major crisis. The price of fabric has increased, so we don’t get much revenue from selling our underwear. The quantity of underwear is limited. It costs a lot to buy underwear, so we can’t make much profit. Muthusamy Karupiah, you should take Economics classes at ATC.”

Muthusamy said, “Oh maaaan.”

隐形的翅膀

2008-06-15T22:24:00.000+08:00

每一次
都在徘徊孤单中坚强
每一次
就算很受伤
也不闪泪光

我知道
我一直有双隐形的翅膀
带我飞
飞过绝望

*不去想
他们拥有美丽的太阳
我看见
每天的夕阳
也会有变化
我知道
我一直有双隐形的翅膀
带我飞
给我希望
我终于
看到
所有梦想都开花
追逐的年轻
歌声多嘹亮
我终于
翱翔
用心凝望不害怕
哪里会有风
就飞多远吧*

隐形的翅膀
让梦恒久比天长
留一个
愿望
让自己想象

A piece of me, a piece of you.

2008-06-11T23:47:00.002+08:00

Yes please, I’d like to order a little piece of everything, including nothing. Thank you.

As I have always stressed, our imperfections are what make us perfect, for each and every one of us are unique in our own way. The converse holds true, for perfection in itself is an imperfection. Those elusive luxuries in life that are forever goading us – be it material satisfaction for the poor or emotional satisfaction or perhaps, both – are what make life interesting.

A tiny part of me, the part that belongs to the Air element would occasionally spread my wings and soar up into the clear blue skies, gazing down upon the sands of humanity. I do indeed see pure white little crucibles, finely spread out on the vast land below, literally and figuratively speaking. To rest my head upon the soft fluffy clouds and observe the long stretch of beach civilization is founded upon…

It is fascinating, not to mention refreshing. I do understand how it is to be emotionally unaffected after all. To be unattached to any of those dowdy packages that humans are so often burdened with, winging my way through life. To skim the tips of my wings against the crystalline ocean waters, to brush my tail feathers against the tip of snow-capped mountains….

Fleeting daydreams as such allow me to gain a fresh perspective on life and wonder at the tiny things in life that we seem to place so much importance upon. I am, however, a daughter of Fire and Air with the former dominant most of the time. Really, if you boil everything down to the basics…elements are the perfect way to categorise people. I’m sure there are exceptions, though I have yet to meet one. Most people just need to discover their inner self and find an element that they have an affinity for.

So what happens when fiery passion and empty air meet? An equilibrium, you’d reckon? Not quite…for they are both within my nature and have distinctive qualities of their own. I am a temperamental little flame most of the time, however, and it is only when reality starts to fall apart slightly and daydreams of the wind sneak in through the gaps…

But I understand how it is to be Pure Air. I truly know how it feels to be empty like the wind – no past, no future, only now. The precise feeling of how it is to be indifferent, unaffected, unperturbed, unfazed by developments around me. That in itself, is an irony, for empathy doesn’t exactly belong to Air, no? Perhaps that is one of the many reasons why I consider myself to be both. Because it is a part of me and I am a part of it.

To have more than your best friend.

2008-06-10T23:43:00.000+08:00

Every tear, every smile is shared between true friends.

You thought your best friend had more than you, but you were wrong.

For all happiness, all sadness is divided equally among friends.

And you have your best friend in addition to all that.

Isn’t that more than enough?

What would be the meaning of friendship, otherwise?

Of Dogs and Humanity

2008-04-04T14:10:00.000+08:00

Hopelessly lost. Again. I’m directionally-challenged, so don’t ask me what I was doing hanging around my college’s H block when I was supposed to be all the way across the campus, at the college hall.

Well, I’m glad I took the detour anyway, because I met a couple of really sweet stray dogs along the way. You can meet all sorts of living creatures in my college, ranging from those pesky little blood-suckers to monkeys (As a side-note, I haven’t seen those monkeys recently. O_o I wonder what became of them.)

I gave one of my trademark whines, the ones that often get innocent dogs into trouble when their owners nearby assume their pets are making gratuitous noises. It’s an attention-seeking whine, a “Hey, wanna play with me?” signal.

This lovely white and brown dog approached me and gently nipped at my hand, then clamped its jaws around my skirt, tugging playfully. Consequently, I earned a couple of weird eyeballs and a few spectators.

“Hey, no,” I voiced, smiling good-naturedly at the dog. It obediently released my skirt, looking up at me with those infamous, heart-melting puppy-dog eyes.

Resuming my journey to the Hall of Doom aka Exam Hall, I started thinking about the poor dog and how the general public – the ones that don’t understand dogs – would think.
Sure, I understand that it was merely a friendly gesture – but others may not think the same way. Many would strike out in fear, in an attempt to prevent the dog from “biting” them. Don’t get me wrong, I would never blame anyone for trying to defend themselves against attacks from predators.

Nevertheless, defending is one thing, attacking is another. A warning smack or two on the head, a soft kick, a gentle push – and the dog will certainly get the message. I do not condone the abuse of those sweet little creatures (Unless they’re rabid, then by all means, take a gun and shoot them. O_o ). It’s inhuman and cruel. After all, dogs have the intelligence of a seven year old, and they’d certainly comprehend if you admonished them appropriately.

Regrettably, the deterioration of morality is rampant within the current society. I have seen people fling knives at dogs, causing the poor canine to have a knife embedded firmly into its back. I have seen individuals throwing boiling water at them, consequently leaving the poor dogs with no fur and a painfully red skin.

Just recently, there was this plump and friendly puppy that I’d fallen in love with. It was the brightest and sweetest thing I’d ever seen apart from Shadow. The aforementioned puppy disappeared though, and I found a undernourished version of it lying by the gutter a few days later, all but dead.

It had been raining and there were pools of water in its ears. The poor thing was so weak it could barely move. My mother and I tried our very best to nurse it back to heath, but the puppy could barely swallow the milk we gave it. It died a couple of hours later, taking with it a piece of our hearts.

My guess is that one of the fiends out there that claim to be human had kicked it and ruptured its intestines or something. I will personally track down any animal-abuser out there and give it (Yes, IT, for said abusers do not have hearts or brains, therefore they are not fit to be consider homo-sapiens with gender differences.) my trademark double-penguin-kick. I just hope I happen to be wearing my boots (or good heels, at least) when I meet them.

Humanity, or the lack of it, thereof, is saddening.

Paradox

2008-04-04T13:11:00.001+08:00

A far-fetched dream,

Dissolving into the emptiness of reality.

A trickling, flowing stream,

Softening into the chamber of thought.

An icy-cold rain,

Melting into the solidity of warmth.

A heart-sharpened pain,

Liquefying into the medicines of time.

A silently whispered name,

Blending into the divinity of vibrations.

A temperamental, fiery flame,

Diffusing into the tenderness of darkness.

A tribute to my beloved SJ8C. Thank you for being a part of my life.

2008-02-05T17:53:00.001+08:00

Dedicated exclusively to SJ8C-rians:

离

水月相随永不分,

茫茫苍海亦不断;

犹如良伴知心人,

凉风掀起轻呼唤.

天下无不散宴席,

但却无不叹宴客;

送君千里虽佳习,

终需有一别之刻.

绵绵泪水细如雨,

心中乱麻杂如草;

山伯英台欲成鱼,

痛恨离别分离朝.

抽刀断水水更流,

举杯消愁愁更愁;

君若痛恨离别酒,

更是深叹离别惆.

天长地久有时尽,

此恨绵绵无绝期;

离别自古诗人吟,

世世代代诗人提.

学海生涯点点滴,

小女子没齿难忘;

多少回忆记心底,

如那凶涌澎湃浪.

当年君所许之诺,

当年闻所芳花香;

离别在即若曾过,

妹子在此愿君谅.

A peek into the past. SJ8C

2008-02-05T17:49:00.004+08:00

The pain never really goes away, you just get used to it…

Dear Shadow. He was such an obedient and adorable dog. There will always be this tiny twitch in my heart that will never be resolved… The only dog I ever loved more than I did him was (and is) Bingo.

*Shadows* cloud life’s lane as I traverse this difficult journey, weaving in and out through thorns and heavy undergrowths threatening to smother me. I once walked alone, or so it seemed, for my loved ones could do nothing more than proffer me sympathetic glances. They could not offer me much physical assistance, for they were too far away to help…

Suddenly, I was not alone. Not anymore. There were warm arms ready to hold me up when I faltered, a strong shoulder for me to lean against when I felt weary… SJ8C. I owe you guys so much. I love you all. You guys are the best classmates I ever had and probably will ever have.

Perhaps I am getting a little too emo for my own good. I have no idea how to write all this down…how to put all of this into words. I can only type out the thoughts as they run through my brain: Uncut, unvarnished, not up to standards... but certainly effective.
I will always be a part of SJ8C, although I know not whether I am acknowledged any longer. A portion of my heart will always be with you guys.

Thank you so much for being there for me right where it truly matters. Thank you for being my friends, true friends. Thank you for showing me that there is still friendship in existence, that true hearts lie beneath the superficial layers of humanity. Thank you for being the reason why I can face the new day with courage and strength and a small smile upon my face.

It hurts to leave you all. I know I’ll have to get used it and I am grateful that at least, we parted while memories were still sweet. I just…love you all so much, more than anyone can ever truly understand. I hope I won’t lose the source, the source of my happiness. I wish I won’t lose it, ever. A vain hope, a vain wish…

On a side note, I had to attend a class with the juniors the other day. I don’t think I like them very much, considering the chaos they caused with our unfortunate Biology lecturer. Perchance, she doesn’t really have good English. But who are they to criticise her English when they do not have perfect English themselves? I do not claim that my English is perfect. I believe, however, that my English is better than them at any rate, considering I’m only good at languages.

Everyone has their own weaknesses. I would never have dreamt of insulting an unfortunate fellow human just because she happened to possess unsatisfactory language skills. Nobody is perfect. Incidentally, why is a Biology lecturer required to speak the Queen’s English? Honestly, I’ll gladly debate them any day and make them sit up a bit. Would you believe it? Even the sentences that they used to criticise my lecturer’s English were grammatical mistakes in themselves. Dear children, I’d advise you to return to grade school and come back after you’ve learnt your grammar.

They were an insufferably rude bunch of immature children. Whatever her faults were, there is never any acceptable excuse for being rude. A little bit of consideration and common courtesy goes a long way. I find it fascinating that those uncouth youths are actually supposed to be elder than me. Juniors will always be juniors…

My friends keep telling me to keep my head down. Well, I never! I was angry and indignant on behalf of the poor lecturer. How dare they do this to her? It’s her first job after all, the unfortunate girl… At least half the lecture hall went quiet after my icy glare and pointed “They think they’re so perfect?” I got an earful from my friends after that, of course. They told me I should keep my mouth shut and not involve myself in matters as such. I agree with them, but I don’t regret my words. However, I shall try my very best to shut up and keep my temper in check, for they are right, after all.

Still, it was pretty satisfying to see the half of the lecture hall that heard me have some sense knocked into their brains. I do not regret my words, though I suppose it wasn’t a very wise thing to do. They deserved it and more, at any rate.

Of Ice and Mates.

2007-11-27T00:54:00.001+08:00

I was already waiting at the Kelana Jaya LRT station just before nine o’clock. Needless to say, I was the earliest person to arrive. We were supposed to meet at nine, and my classmates were actually pretty early by Malaysian standards, arriving between nine fifteen to nine thirty. My actual fear was that they’d stand me up so I was pretty relieved when I received various phone calls informing me of their whereabouts.

I’m touched. Yet again, proof that my classmates are wonderful people who truly accept me as a friend. All those simple gestures that others take for granted do not escape me because of…my past experiences. People might think I get a little emo if they knew how easily touched I am, yet they don’t know how hard, how lonely it is to have had no friends. I still remember the instant a classmate of mine poked his head into the staffroom and said casually, “Oh, hi, Michelle. I thought I’d find you here.” Tears of gratitude had welled up in my eyes at his friendly words, though I did not let them fall. It was the knowledge that someone did not despise me or walk away but instead came for me and bestowed upon me a simple smile. TAR College was one of the first bits of warmth I had ever received.

Finally, my friends turned up. Four girls – the four ‘M’s! – Mei Ping (red), Maia (black), Min Yunn (green), Me (blue), and two guys, Chin Xin (black), Jeff (grey). Unfortunately, Ichiro, Ken Wey and Chris did not turn up, though they were supposed to be there. The colour of our clothes that I’d put in brackets above gave me a déjà vu feeling – very DB-like.

The bus was just about to leave when we made our way to the bus stop so the six of us hopped on happily, Maia complaining about hunger and threatening to murder at least one of us. We had brunch upon arrival at Sunway at Long John Silver’s before setting foot in the ice-skating rink.

I’ve always liked the feel of the cold air brushing her icy fingers across my face, even back then when I couldn’t skate for toffee. Perhaps I have an affinity for snow and all things ice. It is ironic how I’m easily affected by the cold, actually. I suppose that’s why I’m “of fire” as well as “of snow”.

Due to not having ice-skated in quite some time, I was a little nervous as I stepped unto the ice. Gingerly but surely, I placed a foot firmly upon the cold, frozen waters. It was as if I’d been skating all my life, although I could barely ice-stumble just months ago. It felt so easy, so natural…my balance was so firm I really found it hard to believe that earlier this year, I was slipping all over the place and telling anyone who would listen that I would never, never be a decent skater. Bad as I generally am at sports, I never thought I could have learnt how to skate in such a short time – that proves how easy ice-skating actually is. Hey, if I, the World Champion Sports Loser can do it…

Chin Xin, Jeff and I were fair skaters (Trust me to be to be grouped under the “guys”), so it was up to us to teach the others. Maia could hold her own, so our jobs were mainly to look after Mei Ping and Min Yunn in turns. Two of us would guide and the third would be free to skate about.

I like “teaching” people the basics of ice-skating. It helps me improve my own skills as everything has to be Perfect with a capital letter or the “students” would be a terribly misguided bunch. Teaching them how to get into the rhythm helps ME to be more guarded about my steps and be more graceful. I do have a tendency to lapse into clumsy skating and I have a weak right lead. Once upon a time, I used to skate like a lame duck. As a matter of fact, I still do occasionally, when I forget and favour my left leg.

Just when I was guiding Mei Ping, a girl bumped into my poor friend, who fell against me and in turn made me twist my right ankle momentarily, though I managed to remain standing because of my firm balance. I looked up indignantly at the retreating back of the offender who didn’t even seem to have notice what had happened before turning to Mei Ping. My companion was not so fortunate and was sitting on the ice with an anguished look on her face. Despite my best efforts, the poor girl couldn’t stand. By this time, Jeff and a rink guard had already arrived and they helped her out of the rink. I was asked to identify the rude and dangerous skater and I described her at length to the rink guard.

Mei Ping turned out to have dislocated her knee cap and twisted her ankle. Maia was so angry she sought out the culprit and demanded an apology. Well, the offender had the guts to deny she’d bumped into my friend. She admitted to “passing by” but not bumping into her. Of all the nonsense! I’ve guided many newbies in my day and I know the difference between my wards falling down of their own accord in comparison to being bumped. Besides, there was my brief ankle twist to be reckoned for. Only a very hard knock into my ward would have made me stagger in such a fashion. If my ward had slipped on her own, I would have either have fallen with her or remained standing, not doing an impromptu ankle twist!

The culprit also claimed that she was a newbie to if she had bumped into Mei Ping, she would surely have fallen herself. Rubbish. I told her flatly that that people do not necessarily fall over after bumping into others and left it at that for she was being stubborn and refused to apologise. Is it that hard to say “I’m sorry?” Of course, my classmates and I were rather annoyed at the girl’s behaviour.

After a while, Mei Ping claimed that she felt better and told us to continue skating. There was no reason for the five of us to sit there and watch a bruise form, after all. We bade her to be very careful and yell if it continued to hurt before we went back to skate.

By this time, Min Yunn had already grasped a little of Ice-skating 101 (told you ice-skating was easy as long as you have a guide) so the three “teachers” took a break and we convened in the middle of the rink. Spotting the obnoxious skater who was skating dangerously around the rink at top speed again despite being inexperienced, we decided to harass her a little. The three of us skated around her side like hawks circling their prey. As she knew quite well we were Mei Ping’s friends, we hoped she felt pretty pressured and stressed then. We were not breaking any rules, nor did we harm her. All we did was skate in her vicinity…skate a little too close for comfort. Quite mischievous of us, I know.

She decided to hold onto her friend’s hand next. Jeff flew past them into a small space and ducked, coming out intact. The inexperienced girls shrieked and went down in a noisy tangle of limbs. Chin Xin, Jeff and I met the centre of the rink, giggling like naughty school children.

Chin Xin then proposed a game of Tag and left no room for objections by poking Jeff’s arm and speeding away. Jeff gave chase and soon, the three of us were engaged in a very exhilarating game of Ice Tag. My feet glided swiftly as I weaved in and out of the crowd, for once, not afraid to fly. Indeed, it was the closest thing to flying. The chilly air was as refreshing as a spring tonic as it whipped against my face. It was a beautiful and enchanting moment.

Mei Ping rejoined us later as she felt better, a little scared of people bumping into her but none the worse for her experience. I brought her into the centre, where only the professionals skated – they could certainly be trusted to swerve or brake in time. Ironic, I know, but hey, my theory worked for not another person contrived to bump into my friend after that.

After our ice-skating session, it was decided that we were to have dinner and watch a movie. The girls went shopping (I gladly included myself among the guys) and we had talks on various interesting topics while we waited for the girls. Dinner was at a hawker centre near The One Academy, consisting of extremely expensive drinks as well as a very rude maidservant who cheeked Jeff and I when we enquired about our food.

At about six forty-five, we settled down in Sunway’s TGV to watch the movie “The Kingdom”.

Not quite my usual taste, but it was quite interesting if you could manage to pay sufficient attention. I almost fell asleep in the middle of the movie (no, it wasn’t that boring, I was just exhausted!) but I managed to stay awake by snitching a couple of sips from a classmate’s drink. Some of the lines are quite amusing :

“If he offers to let you hold his pleasure, do not flinch. It ees an honour.”

The next scene shows a very relieved man holding a hawk carefully.

“Come, I take you to catch the beeg dog.”

“You mean the big fish.”

“… A dog is beegger than a fish.”

*Astonished expression accompanied with wild gestures to show size of ‘dog’ and ‘fish’*

“…Well don’t ask me, I didn’t create that idiom.”

“You vatch Sixty Million Dollar Man?”

“Oh yeah! That’s my shit!”

“…Vat, you need to go to the bathroom? Vee could…”

“No, no, no.”

“If you vant, vee could…”

“No!”

I’m not quite certain of the time I arrived home – I was feeling quite feverish by then. The “customary morning cold” I had when I woke up in the morning had turned out not to be quite so customary after all and I ended up walking about all day with a red nose as I laughed and joked with my classmates. It was probably about ten o’clock when I arrived at the Ampang Park LRT station. I was quite, quite glad to sink into the front seat of my mother’s car then for I’d called ahead and asked her to pick me up.

Thank you all for a wonderful day, people. Friends are just marvellous things to have.

Just Another Day

2007-10-03T17:19:00.002+08:00

9 guys + me + awesome college day = DoTA

Naturally. ;)

Another girl tagged along and watched us play for a bit. I didn’t do too bad for someone who hasn’t played Warcraft in ages and only just recently started playing DoTA. When the game ended, we looked around and noticed that the girl was missing, her bag still on the seat she was previously occupying. We tried to call her cell phone, but nobody answered. Scoured the entire cyber café, double-checked the toilets – nada. Kept trying her phone and calling other people to find out if she was with them but to no avail. Called our friends in the hostel and asked them to check up on her to see if she was in the college hostel but they replied in the negative. A search party of some sort went out and checked the entire street, looking into every store and hoping to find her. Well, we decided to try her phone one last time before calling the Wangsa Maju Police Station and…she answered the phone. Apparently she got tired of watching and went off to a nearby comic shop.

Lesson of the day: Don’t wander off without telling anyone? Uh-uh. Don’t ignore your cell phone? Nope. The lesson is…don’t watch people playing DoTA. Join them. :P Kidding.

Andrew, Ken Wey and I walked back to the LRT later…we were amazed when we saw Mun Hon and his girlfriend there, waiting for Wei Zhe. They should have been home hours ago! Apparently they were just as surprised to see us as we were to see them. Someone stole poor Wei Zhe’s LRT pass. It has only been in use for three days and there’s still the rest of the month to go! Mental note to self: Be very, very careful not to let my pass be stolen. It would have been worse for me, considering my IC and college ID are in the same plastic casing as my pass! The gradual deterioration of human morality is saddening.

Oh yeah…my phone died yesterday. V_V I have to use an old phone of my father’s while I attempt to send it for repairs. I don’t mind the old phone as much despite the severe lack of functions but the keys are so stiff and hard to press! My fingers hurt after sending a couple of messages and believe me, when I say my fingers hurt, they really hurt, considering I have great SMSing stamina. Ouch I hope I won’t get too used to these buttons and press my phone buttons way too hard after I’ve got it repaired (or gotten a new phone if beyond the point of no returun).

My sister was home early today. Very nice. A special wish for special people…goodness knows I appreciate you guys more than anyone will truly comprehend. Love to all of my wonderful classmates who never ceased to there for me in their own way. A simple gesture holds a world-full of meanings for me. :)

Night

2007-08-03T23:10:00.000+08:00

The night was still.

No, not quite.

Leaves rustled as

nocturnal creatures scampered

through the woods.

She was there.

Gently twirling in

an eternal dance

of the moon.

The moonlight created

silver highlights in

the long dark hair

framing a lovely pale face.

Her steps were silent.

Quick, light, and measured.

Her black dress looked

as if it was weaved of silver thread.

She made not the slightest ripple,

her graceful feet slid in and out

of the shallow stream in the woods

as she continued her moonlight dance.

The moon cast strange shadows

across her face as

she smiled knowingly

humming an eerie melody.

For she was

The Guardian of the Shadows,

The Moon Lady,

The Mistress of Darkness.

And the night belonged to her.

2007-07-26T22:23:00.000+08:00

My lecturer paired us off and made us write sentences one after another. This is a general idea - as much as I can remember - she took the original copy off us. Now let's see what my classmate and I got up to.

Red text= Me

Blue text= Chris

BEAUTY LIES IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER

A pale, insipid face peeped out shyly from within the wraps of a ragged scarf. It was cold. It was one of those nights where the children were reluctant to leave the warmth of the fireplace. And then Santa appeared. He laughed merrily, a huge bag of goodies slung over his shoulder, tinkling bells harmonising with his laughter.

The children started to cry. They realised that this was not the Santa Claus of their bedtime stories, but Santa Claws. They ran and hid behind the trees. “You can’t hide from me forever, children,” cackled Santa. He had a big belly. Santa’s face paint was starting to peel, revealing the horror beneath his façade. Then the Goblin appeared.

A little child trembled as he climbed up a tree, the branches scratching cruelly against his flesh as Santa approached menacingly. The Goblin started to laugh at Santa’s big belly. “Haven’t you heard that beauty lies in the eye of the beholder?” snapped Santa angrily. “No wonder the children are afraid of you,” the Goblin laughed. “Appearances can be deceiving,” said Santa, “besides, Mrs. Claws finds me attractive.”

What is Art?

2007-07-14T16:53:00.001+08:00

It is the common fallacy of our society that art is merely restricted to paintings hung in galleries and such. We have been taught since childhood that art consists of literature, paintings, sculptures, music and the like. The true meaning of art is lost, buried deep beneath the hectic daily lives of humans. Masterpieces that convey a world of meanings, splashes of colours forming portals to fantastic worlds, weaving in an out in an eternal parabola is lost to the general public. They are not aware of the omnipresence of art, that art is everywhere and that we breathe and live art.

Basic art classifications include literature, paintings and music. The works of illustrious writers like Oscar Wilde have been passed down from one generation to another. Compositions of legendary musicians like Beethoven and Mozart resonated through the ages and paintings by artists like Leonardo da Vinci are admired till this very day. Yet is that all there is to art? Art is not mere watercolours slapped upon canvases – it is everything one is able to perceive, though humans tend to reject the blatantly obvious in favour of the safe and tried road of ignorance. There is more to art than meets the eye.

Permit me to provide unusual examples that people would not generally consider a form of art. Several attempts have been carried out to separate the world into science and art, with the former deliberated as the dominant half of humanity. It has been debated that the arts should not be considered inferior to science – pointless arguments in my opinion. The disputers do not realise that the fact art could never be separated from anything and art is also incorporated into so-called science. Proportions of animal and plant cells are artistically arranged by Mother Nature and the concocting of medicines for ailing patients is an art in itself.

Is not genetic engineering considered art? The tampering of genetics within entities, to remove the imperfect genes and replace them with desirable ones…is not the result of this science related branch as much a masterpiece as a novel by writers like Patricia C. Wrede? A human could be said to resemble a lump of clay awaiting its sculptors. Our personal experiences, our environment and other external factors are what shapes us and forces us to become the being as others perceive us now. Hence, it could rightly be said that even the formation of a human is an art in itself.

One does not have to be famous to have one’s work labelled as art for it is not the greatness of the deeds that one does but the extent of the influence of others at the moment. Our speech, thoughts and demeanour are ways we express ourselves, not to mention communicate with other beings. Successful art evokes emotions of all sorts, be it insignificant or dramatic feelings. The transmission of these sentiments is a common occurrence in our everyday lives and art lives within said sensations. Art provides us with the power to change the world and we achieve that by changing a person’s life, however inconsequential an impact it may appear to be.

By means of art, we are able paint our otherwise drab and monotonous world with colours and beauty. One does not require a trained eye to recognise and appreciate art but merely a heart that is willing to accept expressions of any form. It could be said that the very subsistence of mankind is art in itself for it allows us to reach out beyond the generally impenetrable wall of humanity and touch the hearts of others. Our memories and imprints are immortal – they exist in different forms of art and live on long after our fleshly bodies have fully disintegrated.

My angel, they knoweth naught; My hopes, vague shattered thoughts.

2007-05-27T20:31:00.000+08:00

My angel, they knoweth naught;

My hopes, vague shattered thoughts.

The sun sets - it is dusk outside,

Yet the darkness within - I can hardly abide.

How long should one wait,

How long till the bait?

My very bones start to ache,

My heart sings of sorrow’s egg.

Should one’s foolish fears be fulfilled,

A prospect that leaves one chilled;

The fool should do well not to regret,

And of course, the present not to neglect.

A fool, an ignoramus, I’m silly, I know,

I trust in the clarity of the arrow.

Yet it’s a thought by no means cheerful,

Ignorant me, I can’t but help being woeful.

I care too much, you see,

I can’t help it, it’s me.

Everyone thinks a fire is strong,

They know not, they are wrong.

A fire has a strong façade and more,

But when one strikes the inner core;

The naivety,

The vulnerability.

It scares me.

An Encounter

2007-05-08T17:08:00.000+08:00

A gentle breeze swept through the college, bringing a split-second sense of peacefulness to the bustling students hurrying about the campus.
“Maia!” A twig crunched behind the elder girl and she turned, the sunlight reflecting momentarily upon her face, creating an unusual radiance that harmonized with her outfit.
“Maia,” I repeated, struggling to keep the books in my arm from sliding onto the floor as I stared into the veil of trees, trying to make out the figure of my classmate. “Wait up.” My body shook as I stifled a sneeze.
“Are you all right, Michelle?” The girl next to me asked, a concerned frown playing across her pretty face. “You’ve been sneezing all morning."
“I’m fine, Tai Yun” I reassured my friend as we walked up to Maia. “It’s merely a touch of the flu.”
Maia, as we discovered, was deep in conversation with a lecture-mate (as I found out later) of ours. A lecture-mate I’d never noticed right up till that moment.

“Hi,” he waved casually at me and my companion as we approached, smiling. I just stood there and stared. Those ever-slithering books of mine as well as my compulsion to sneeze were forgotten the instant I set eyes upon this particular lecture-mate I didn’t even realise existed. His bashful smile could best be summed up in one word – captivating.

I stood there and gaped for a long time, vaguely aware that he was saying something to me, although my brain refused to register human speech of any sort at that precise moment.

Forget the fact I had long since harboured a secret shyness of strangers. Forget the fact I had difficulties looking acquaintances I’ve been seeing for five whole months in the eye. This guy was amazing, outstanding, The Unbelievable Exception.

“Well…bye,” He muttered after a while as he reluctantly backed away, obviously unwilling to end the conversation. “See you all around, yeah.”

“Yeah.” I parroted dumbly. “Yeah.”

The instant he was out of earshot, I turned to my classmates with huge eyes as I gestured wildly, searching for the appropriate vocabulary required for a situation as such.

“That guy…who is he?” I finally managed to produce a question in a barely audible awed whisper.

“Why, our lecture-mate, of course,” Tai Yun replied.

“What? I’ve never seen him before!”

“He’s from the scholarship class,” Maia added.

“Wow. I mean, wow. Did you…did you see…his smile? Wow. It was amazing,” I muttered, mostly to myself.

My friends were starting to give me the weird eyeball and I didn’t blame them.

“Did you…did you guys see his teeth?”

“What about his teeth?” The dark-haired maiden next to me asked as she stooped down to pick up one of my invariably sliding books that had evidently found a new resting place on the floor.

“His teeth. They were perfectly straight. And I mean straight! Goodness gracious, I’ve never seen anyone with teeth as straight as such. It was as if they were set using a ruler or something.”

“Gee, a lot of people have straight teeth too,” Maia volunteered.

“That’s not it. His teeth were so straight, they didn’t seem real,” I explained. My companions didn’t get the point. How could they, when they were concentrating on the conversation and I was feasting my eyes on one of the most eerily perfect sets of teeth I’d ever seen?

Eerily perfect was right. The unnaturalness of the teeth made one feel as if one were in a horror novel where the teeth would eventually turned out to be some sort of weird phantom. It was something right down Stephen King’s lane – indeed, I recall having read a story by King entitled “Chattery Teeth” a couple of years ago.

As I headed in the direction of the lecture halls with my associates, a shiver ran down my spine and I sneezed. Then again, it could just have been my bout of constantly recurring flu, returning to haunt me.

Hah, tricked you all, didn’t I? Sorry, there isn’t a romantic conclusion to the day. ;)

But I’m actually serious. This human has the most unnatural, eerily perfect set of teeth I’ve ever set my eyes upon. He scares me. O_o

Humans

2007-04-24T09:19:00.000+08:00

They say that each person is unique. What, may I ask, contributes to the shaping of a humanoid? Genetic factors? Environmental influences? Personal experiences?

Upon arriving at my college half an hour earlier because of my decision to walk (yes, mon chere, walking to my college is actually quicker than taking a bus but I am not going to write about deranged buses, for that is a topic to dwell on another day), I was suddenly overwhelmed with questions pertaining the differences between humans. I should think humans are like…onions. (Great, now I sound like that donkey from Shrek.)Permit me to take you on a journey into the various layers of homo sapiens.

First and foremost, we have physical appearances. A mask that covers the other layers, it may or may not be an accurate depiction of one’s inner layers. People often say that beauty is only skin-deep and we should not judge a book by its cover. Unfortunately, a large portion of humanity can be very shallow and fall for facades. Allow me to pose a question: Would you still love your family if they were involved in a freak accident, consequently becoming scarred for life? How about your partner? Your friends? Your classmates/colleagues? How many of you will still stay by the so-called “loved one”’s side when said person is permanently disfigured?

I wonder how many people are still braving this expedition with me. Regrettably, I daresay quite a lot of individuals would have forsaken this quest by now due to their untoward inability to see past the first layer. Now is when things start to get complicated. You see, the inner layers are mostly blended together in such a way that one would find it impossible to tell where one layer begins and where it ends. Layers upon layers overlapping each other, dancing an eternal dance of the layers, held together by something far more complicated than sigma bonds.

Think of it as graphite, if you wish, although graphite isn’t quite the same with its distinct layers. Elementary, my dear Watson. Or perhaps, not quite so elementary after all, considering the fact scientists have been attempting to puzzle out the exact science behind the complexity of human nature for centuries and are still trying to do so. The inner layers shine out from beyond the first layer, emaciating a special glow that envelopes the first layer. Sadly, some people have a strange handicap named “superficiality” whereby the unfortunate being is unable to see exceptional radiances.

Moving on from the inner layers that define our personality, we have the nuclei.

(All right, I confess – I’m still stuck in Chemistry Test Mode.) It is the central, the very core of what our true nature really is. Seldom shown to others because of its vulnerability, this nucleus is what some would call “the deeper aspect”. This may or may not be a direct contrast of one or more of the previous layers. Owing to the fact it is made of very delicate matter, this core is very much sought after, but only a select few will have the privilege of discovering it.

Will anyone really unearth the secret of what delineates a person? I doubt it.

2007-04-15T21:40:00.000+08:00

PROLOGUE

19th April 2998, day three in Serene Settlements.

Memories…so many memories…all of them buried deep in a drawer at the back of my mind. No, I am not trying to forget them, quite the contrary in fact. I need to unlock the drawer…and remember. Happy, sad, angry, frustrated recollections…recollections that a fifteen year old like me had no business having! Till this day, I do not know what truly happened, and I probably will never find out either. I wonder if things like this happen to everyone, only they keep quiet and never tell their tale.

I know I am in an asylum. Do you think I do not have eyes? I can see for myself. The guards like to patrol those cells every half hour or so, in case the “mentally disturbed patients” harm themselves. Only we aren’t supposed to call them guards. They are Ms. Iris and Ilea, our so-called friends. And that means ‘guards’, you and I both know that. Mentally disturbed patients. Hah. Why don’t they just come right out and call us lunatics? I know I probably shouldn’t take it out on Iris and Ilea. They have good intentions, after all, and it wasn’t their fault I was stranded in this prison.

Nevertheless, those women get on my nerves all the time, with their slow, deliberate voices, almost as if I was a three year old. I am already fifteen, perhaps elder. Also, you know the way identical twins sometimes finish their twin’s sentences? Well, Iris and Ilea are like that, only they do it all the time. Iris never finishes her sentences and Ilea always completes them. I wonder how they cope when they get separated. Iris would probably go like, “So, how…?” to some random person while Ilea, in a different place would go like, “…are you?” That would indeed be a hilarious situation and I wish I could be there to see it if it ever happens. However, those two seem to be inseparable and it is enough to drive anyone up the wall to listen to their talk…that is, if they haven’t already went off their rocker in the first place.

In addition to that, Iris is the twin with a loud, hearty voice while Ilea has this high-pitched, scratchy voice. Do you still wonder why they work in Serene Settlements? I guess it is the only place anyone can bear their contrasting voices completing sentences. Iris and Ilea are tall, pale and dark-haired. The colour of their skin is unreal. There’s always this ghostly tinge and the twins seem to radiate this chilly aura despite their warm personalities. I wonder if it is because they meet with so nutcases everyday. They also have worried frowns on their faces, and narrowed, suspicious eyes. All of the guards in Serene Settlements have the same look. Serene Settlements…such a dumb name, but perfectly suitable for a funny farm.

I have a room mate, or rather, cell mate, incidentally. Her name is Sara and she’s pretty nice except for her tendency to suddenly start kissing the wall as she hangs herself by the legs from her bed frame. Sounds impossible, but you have to see her before you get what I mean. Otherwise, she’s quite peaceable and twists loose strands of hair around her finger, humming a melodious tone. I have tried to ask her the name of that song, but I don’t think I can get her to understand me. She just stares up at me dreamily with this wide grin on her face whenever I attempt to strike up a conversation.

Poor girl, her mind has completely gone, probably just like all the other inhabitants of Serene Settlements. Except for me, of course. I have not lost my marbles…not yet, at least. I have no idea how long it would take for my mind to give out in this dreadful place. One day, I will be one of those broken-spirited people, wandering around the hallways of Serene Settlements, mumbling to myself, asking everyone the truth…what is true and what is not. This place has that effect on people, you see. I stared at the pure white wallskin with the tiny grey swirls, spinning forever and ever. Looking down at the blank piece of compaper on the desk in front of me, I pressed the button on my simple chain that activated my e-pen. I needed to write the whole story down…to let everyone know the true story. Permit me to take you for a stroll down the forbidden memory lane, the memory lane that was not supposed to belong to me…

This is a work of fiction, written for amusement during a period of excessive boredom.

風火の雲氷炎

2007-03-06T21:50:00.000+08:00

土曜日 秋霧

おさない てに すすんだ

ふるえてる その ひかり を

ここまで たどてきた

ぎかん のふしを さまよい

さがし すずけて きたよ

なまえ さえ しらないけれど

ただ ひとす の おもい を

あなた に てわたしたくて

ときわあいも いたみ き

ふかく だきとめ

けして ゆくけと わたし わ

おぼえている

ずとー

わたし のむねのおくに

いすからか ひびいて いたー

よすゆ の しずく よりも

かすかな ささやきだけど

いてすく ほしのやみえ

すむぐ いのり が

とどく ようにー

ルオ ハオヱンさん,

風ー火

ゆエしン

Stop. Ponder.

2007-02-12T09:40:00.000+08:00

It annoys me greatly when I come across people moaning about the unfairness of life and their imperfect existence just because something does not according to their plan. Stop whinging on about your unfortunate subsistence. I can guarantee that at least a million people out there are less fortunate than you.

Most of you aren’t physically handicapped. Certainly all of you aren’t mentally handicapped for you apparently have sufficient intelligence to read and comprehend this sentence. In fact, a lot of physically handicapped people don’t complain, but take life as it is, facing challenges each day with admirable courage.

Obviously, you have a roof over your head and victuals when you need it. (What are you doing online if you can’t even afford food or shelter?) You apparently have access to the Internet.

Hence next time when you open your mouth to complain, think of the less fortunate. Think of the mentally handicapped. Think of the people who starve to death, cold and lonely. Think of the homeless. That’s it. Stop being so self-centred for once, honestly.

Be happy you can actually afford normal clothes instead of bawling your eyes out just because you can’t buy that pretty Laura Ashley dress. Some people have to go about clad in rags.

Be pleased you can actually afford sufficient education to enable you to read this instead of blaming the world just because you can’t meet the expense of going to Oxford. Some people don’t have the opportunity to learn reading skills.

Be glad you can actually afford to have your meals instead of complaining that you don’t get enough steaks, abalones and whatever. Some people starve to death.

Be satisfied you have adequate finances to afford Internet access. Some people never set eyes on a computer in their whole lives.

Be thankful for each and every of your blessings. Count all the good things providence gave you instead of the bad things in life. The world can do with more cheerful people instead of self-indulgent, pathetic and shallow people behaving morosely like an inferior little horror.

We are like dancing butterflies fluttering across life’s deep sea, all living for the moment. Beware, lest you slip and fall into the watery depths of life. It is hard, but not impossible for a butterfly to re-emerge from the waters – the way it breaks out of its cocoon and flies away freely, as a unique and dazzling butterfly.

Life is as fragile as a glass ball on a table’s corner. Do not waste your subsistence by complaining, but do something meaningful. Contrary to popular belief that one should do something of importance in order to be remembered when one is long gone, it is not the greatness of the deeds one does, but the extent of influence one has on others. You have the power to change the world, yet you can achieve that by changing one person.

You don’t necessarily have to be rich and famous to be considered successful. The true meaning of life isn’t so that people should remember you for decades to come. It is the influence you have on others – the people you’re closely acquainted with. You do not have to live on in memories as a name, but rather live on in memories by your deeds. The greatest sense of achievement comes from knowing that you’ve brightened someone’s life, if only for a mere second. That one second is what the world needed.

PS: Occasional complaints are normal and acceptable. Self-centred people are defined as the pathetic branch of the human race that believes everything revolves around them and sulk for weeks on end (give or take) just because something doesn't go right for them.

A story without the vowel “e” with obvious exception of title. (A reader challenged me to attempt this.)

2007-01-31T05:29:00.000+08:00

“Do you think cows can fly? I saw a cow fly. ” A dirty-looking boy said softly at Solomon’s Roads.
“And pigs can fly too,” I said, smiling.
“It’s not an untruth,” this boy said indignantly.
“All right,” I said, humouring him. “Show this girl a flying cow.”
Thus, our young lad brought yours truly to a tiny rundown barn down a path off Solomon’s Roads. I shall abstain from portraying said barn’s aroma for I worry administrators would bring a particular humanoid into custody on indict of polluting minds of our young scholars.
I saw nothing but a skinny cow with this black coat of fur that I thought was originally brown. “Moo,” said Blawn.
“John, this cow can’t fly,” I told my youthful pal.
“It can fly. I saw it,” insists my childish companion.
“All right,” said I again, about to turn away and walk off.
John told Blawn “Cari bombi loo lanny ma kalia phsaki rani santai.”
I always thought this child was odd. I was about to say a word or two but Blawn was sprouting a pair of pink crystal wings at that point. Blawn hung in thin air by his wings. Gobsmacking but spot on. Cows can fly, I murmur ramblingly.
It did not occur to yours truly right away that Blawn was no ordinary cow. “Wow. Cool,” I told Blawn. It was a wrong thing to say. For an unknown basis, Blawn took an instant look at this girl and did not akin to what it saw…
“Do you think cows can fly? I saw a cow fly. ” I said softly at Solomon’s Roads, soot framing my mug, dust and dirt clinging to my clothing.
“And pigs can fly too,” an old man said, smiling.
“It’s not an untruth,” I said indignantly.
“All right, show this guy a flying cow.”
I think “Cool” is Blawn’s word for “Kick” in human vocalizations.

A story without the vowel "a". (Of course, except for this title.xD)

2007-01-26T01:54:00.000+08:00

Once, there used to be this huge country house right in the middle of town. Five beings resided in there, one from this world, two not from this universe, one from the skies, one from the undergrounds. They lived blissfully until the time the white monster from Iou turned up unexpectedly. Hence, the nice beings invited the white monster in for lunch. Surprisingly, the white monster decided to join them for dinner too. The white monster showed them plenty of cooking tricks, before he went off. So, the being from this world decided to try the tricks the white monster showed him, yet the other beings decided to try the tricks too. People told them plenty of cooks spoilt the broth, but they never listened. They put too much pepper in their morning serving of food, blowing off the roof of their mouth. Thus, they were forced to visit their doctor, this odd guy who only wore green shirts with this purple tie. The doctor told them they were considered to be lucky for despite the red smoke coming out of their mouths, they did not explode from the result of consuming too much of the explosive condiment – pepper from Jupiter. He stitched up their mouths, told them not to jump for the next twenty-four hours, consequently sending them home. The five beings were very sorry for themselves in the end, vowing never to invite white monsters from Iou into their country house in the middle of town in future.

“Education divides, rather than unites society.” Discuss.

2007-01-25T06:33:00.000+08:00

It is of my belief that education causes division rather than amalgamation, as is the common fallacy of our society. I quote the well-renowned poet, William Butler Yeats on his take of education: “Education is not the filling of a pail but the lighting of a fire.” Unfortunately, education is something that does not merely remain dormant within every educated being but is of a somewhat explosive nature and erupts automatically whether one chooses to let it or not.

“True education makes for inequality; the inequality of individuality, the inequality of success, the glorious inequality of talent, of genius,” the famous educator, Felix E. Schelling commented. The fact that individuals of our society inadvertently receive varying degrees of education consequently indicates the unavoidable class disparities amongst the public exists. A poem by Ghulam-Sarwar Yusof, The Midnight Satay Vendor is a prime example where the poet expresses the differences induced by education, especially the final paragraph:

“but education tells me I am halus, he kasar

for don’t you see I’m a Shakespeare-wallah

with this degree that clings to me like a vise

and a middle-class air-conditioned nose?”

Moving on from class discrimination provoked by the measure of education one receives, the disputes between similarly educated people can also be caused by scholarly pursuits. Some people, after receiving considerably decent education have a tendency to develop their own trains of thought and are too obstinate to accept differing views. Epictetus voiced a similar opinion on this matter: “It is impossible for a man to learn what he thinks he already knows.”

I would also like to highlight the astounding fact that knowledge can be misused in a huge number of ways. A Scottish author, Saki (H. H. Munro) once wrote: “But, good gracious, you’ve got to educate him first. You can’t expect a boy to be vicious till he’s been to a good school.” The ability to poison minds via the media and communication as well as the capability of endangering one’s health is in the hands of the learned. With education, one has the power to trigger wars and construct weapons of mass destruction, hence inciting division.

Regrettably, education can be considered a temptress for she entices people to take advantage of the less knowledgeable. “A man who has never gone to school may steal from a freight car; but if he has a university education he may steal the whole railroad,” as Theodore Roosevelt so quaintly put it. The less educated public are more vulnerable to exploitations by the so-called sophisticated people. Therefore, we can observe obvious class segregations in instances as such whereby the victims of con-cases usually did not receive sufficient education.

In conclusion, I would like to reaffirm my perspective that education divides, rather than unites society. The writer and historian Henry Brooks Adams inscribed these golden words of all time: “Nothing in education is so astonishing as the amount of ignorance it accumulates in the form of inert facts.” It is the cause and core of social problems faced by humanity and consequents in the fissures and craters hidden behind the many facades of civilization.

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” – Nelson Mandela

A Cursory View of Social Disparities in Our Current Society

2007-01-22T01:17:00.000+08:00

The rich:
~It is considered fashionable to wear articles of clothing or jewellery that caused the death of animals.
~Thanks to your generous contribution, thousands of trees are cut down every year because of your excessive usage of paper. (Bills.)
~Inflation is caused by your willingness to pay a high price for goods.
~You sometimes do not pay for your food because you found it to be unsatisfactory.
~Just because you don’t like the way your fish was fried, you have a right to send it back and yell obscenities at the restaurant owner, demanding a full refund.
~Drinking liquor and swearing at night clubs is a mark of status and a form of entertainment.
~Paranoia of thieves/robbers is granted.
~Shopkeepers are polite and efficient. They offer you their best goods and they give you special discounts you don’t even have to ask for.
~Platinum/Titanium credit cards promising membership privileges and the best discounts are offered to you wherever you go.
~You have never truly looked behind the eyes of people from the lower class and considered their life story
– Hawkers are just robots you program to cook your food so you can gain nourishment. Toilet cleaners are cleaning machines you can program to keep your bathroom clean and sweet-smelling.

The poor:
~The World Wildlife Fund probably loves you because you never buy garments or ornaments that will endanger an animal’s life – you can’t afford to!
~You’re also loved by forest rangers because you used every bit of empty space available on a piece of paper before disposing of it – at the recycling centre in exchange for money.
~You quietly pay for your food and swallow down every morsel even though it is inedible.
~If the restaurant messed up your order you either shrug, eat it anyway or you enquire politely regarding the mix-up.
~Drinking liquor will get you labelled a good-for-nothing drunkard.
~You don’t have to worry about thieves because you have nothing to lose, literally.
~Shopkeepers give you the weird eyeball when you walk into their shop and they don’t pay much attention to you except to make you sure you don’t steal anything.
~Banks are reluctant to approve your application for a Visa Card.
~You can usually relate to the working-class people either through personal experience or relations who work under the same situations. It is understood that each plate of rice you order from a food stall did not come easily.
~Cherishing what you have is second nature to you.

This is a cursory view of social discrepancies in our present civilization; hence all the stuff I crapped up does not necessarily apply to everyone and is only a very rough (probably highly inaccurate) generalization
………
Actually, I just thought we needed an update. ^^;;
……
Okay, fine. I admit it. I was bored and in a crazier mood than usual. =P

The Man on the Moone and Friends

2006-12-26T04:16:00.000+08:00

The damsel of about eighteen stared at the scenery around her in amusement. She had long, silky dark hair carefully put up with combs, large, innocent wide eyes as soft as that of a doe and a figure so graceful it reminded one of a lovely swan immediately. The young lady had a creamy complexion with a tinge of roseate; her skin was as soft to the touch as a baby, as if it had never been used before. The dark-haired girl was dressed in appropriate to that of an ancient Chinese dynasty. Her robes were weaved out of the softest fabric you ever saw, frail and easily-crumpled by appearance, but strong to the touch. She was in fact wearing numerous layers, each layer peeking out from underneath the previous one, all tastefully matched in accordance with pure winter tones: white, green, blue and grey.

“Good evening kind sir,” she said haltingly in an oriental-sounding accent. “Would I be so fortunate to be meeting the famous Man in the Moon?”

The lanky thin man who had previously been staring at her with an amused expression on his pallid face snorted and looked away distastefully. “Get your grammar right, Earthling,” he muttered. “I certainly don’t live in the moone. I live on the moone. And it’s moone with an ‘e’.

“An ‘e’?” the girl enquired politely.

“Yes. Can’t you people understand simple English? I live on the moone. I don’t quite know what is wrong with you Earthlings…I mean, honestly – what’s your name?”

“For now, Chang Er,” said she.

“Well, Chang Er, how would you like it if I just dropped the ‘r’ from your name and just called you Chang E?”, the Man on the Moone asked.

“Actually, people do that a lot,” Chang Er voiced. She was getting tired of being civil – the Man on the Moone wasn’t well-mannered at all.

“See what I mean?” the Man slapped a hand against his forehead. “I don’t even know why Earthlings are so uninventive.”

“What do you mean?” the young maiden snapped, feeling insulted.

“I’ve met a dozen girls on the moone in the past week, all of them named Chang Er. Eleven of them had white rabbits with them and the twelfth had a white dog. She said she couldn’t find a white rabbit at such short notice. Where’s your pet?”

“I don’t have one,” Chang Er said indignantly. “I’m not like them at all.”

“Oh?” The Man on the Moon looked interested. “Then what’s your story, if not having an idiotic notion of swallowing longevity pills?”

“Longevity pills don’t work – everyone knows that,” the dark-haired damsel expressed, rolling her eyes. “Those salesmen will do anything these days. It’s all a scam.”

“Try telling it to all the Chang Ers I’ve met. They were so annoying I sent them all away, ” the male replied. Wisps of a bond begun to creep between the acquaintances. “How did you end up here, then?”

“It’s a long story,” she sighed.

“Make yourself comfortable,” the Man on the Moone said graciously as he settled down on a moone rock and motioned for his companion to do the same. “After all, we aren’t going anywhere soon, are we?”

“I guess it all started because I was so inadequate. This great Feng Shui master came to my name-giving ceremony, you see.”

“And he predicted something?”

“No. He told my second sister Huang Zhao Jun that she would grow up to be a very beautiful singer and marry a king. My third sister, Xi Shi shared a similar fate. Yang Gui Fei, my eldest sister kept making him drink wine and before the Feng Shui master could reach me, he was too drunk to say anything. He didn’t even get a chance to name me, although he had named all my sisters during their name-giving ceremonies.

My relatives quarrelled a bit about my name and they finally settled it by drawing lots and asking the wisest man they could find to pick a name out of the box. They didn’t like the name he picked, so they drew another.

Hence, my first name was Xiao Long Nv. My parents bought an Ancient Tomb for me to live in and…”

“They made you live in a tomb?” the Man on the Moone exclaimed incredulously.

“Ancient Tombs are very fashionable on earth,” the young maiden reassured her friend. “Anyway, the lessons were my problem.”

“Lessons?”

“They made me take lessons from an emotionless lady who attempted to teach me a special type of martial arts where one was forbidden to show feelings of any sort.”

“How ridiculous,” he said.

“Yes. I did have a liking for martial arts, but I certainly didn’t like being restrained.

Therefore, it was the end of that name for me. My relatives came together again, and after much discussion decided to name me Zhi Nv.”

“Oh? Fascinating.”

“Not really. They made me sew day and night and I hated sewing. They also mentioned eligible shepherds named Niu Lang to me whenever they could. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against shepherds. I just wasn’t interested, do you understand me? After a while, they gave up. Yet again, my relatives wanted to choose a new name for me. I don’t quite understand the difference my name makes – I’m still me. After going through Princess Chui Ping, Princess Huan Zhu, Mei Chao Feng, Zhao Min, Huang Rong…they decided to name me Chang Er and bundled me onto a spaceship headed for the moone. Of course, the spaceship left immediately. They told me to tell you I came here because I’d swallowed my husband’s longevity pills, but obviously I don’t have a husband yet, I’m too young. I guess their last option was to strand me on the moon,” the Lady on the Moone muttered as she rolled her eyes again. “How about you?”

“Me?” the pale man asked, looking surprised. “Oh, I wasn’t very satisfactory either,” he said diffidently.

“When I was six, my parents left my younger sister and I in the woods. We wandered about and found a gingerbread house. The pleasant lady we found there gave us a decent meal and showed us our way home the next morning, giving us sweet rolls to take along on the journey. That was when all the trouble started.

After my eighth birthday, they told me to pull a sword out of a stone. I did pull it out, but the young man next to me started crying. Nobody was watching, so I handed him the sword to pacify him and he was the one who ended being known as ‘The Lad Who Pulled out the Sword from the Stone’.

I was twelve when they got very upset at the idea that I wanted to grow up and I didn’t agree when the fairy Tinkerbell offered to take me to Never Never Land. It sounded like a preposterous place to me. Apparently, my parents didn’t think so.

My parents were very disappointed when I wasn’t turned into a frog by the age of sixteen. ‘How else, can you find a princess to marry?’ they asked me. I merely shrugged. I didn’t exactly relish the idea of being turned into an amphibian. They then told me to go and rescue a girl with ridiculously long hair by climbing up her hair to the tower she was locked up in, but I was afraid of heights. I was next asked to go to a ball and look for a poor girl who was mistreated by her stepmother and stepsisters. Nevertheless, I couldn’t find any. I picked up a glass sneaker at the end of the ball and gave it to my younger sister. I think she still has it.”

“A glass sneaker? How…refreshing,” the Lady on the Moone replied, startled.

“Yes. My parents weren’t pleased at all. They told me to find a mermaid who had exchanged her voice for a pair of feet but she was too quiet for my liking. In desperation they sent me to the funeral of this girl named Snow White. I stared into the plastic coffin of the olive-skinned young lady with dark hair and I mourned for her in the proper way. I still don’t understand what I should have done that day, my parents yelled at me every time the funeral was mentioned.”

“People can be weird,” the maiden said, shaking her head.

“I know – hey!” he stopped halfway through his sentence and stared as a man with a huge axe approached them.

“Who are you?” the duo asked in unison.

“I’ve been sent to cut this tree…” the newcomer broke off awkwardly. “Are you two the Man and the Lady in the Moon?”

“On…” Chang Er corrected.

“…the Moone…” her partner finished.

The woodcutter stared for a long time. “Well, I’m sorry for intruding. I was only sent here because I was so derisory…”

A little long, a little redundant, but oh well. One of the Man on the Moone's perspectives.

The tale of a bus-challenged high school student.

2006-10-31T18:22:00.002+08:00

Not for the first time, I've been forced to walk home when I could have been happily sitting behind my desk in school and flipping through my books...or doing whatever it is a high school student does.

"Ring...."
*Groans*
...
...
*Moans*
...
...
...
(Procedure is repeated.)

Reluctantly I pull myself away from the warm covers and climb down my bed.

Glancing at the clock, I felt pretty pleased with myself for being able to wake up early this time round. It is only 6:30 in the morning as I lock the front door of my house and head for the bus station.

Upon approaching the bus station, I see some students from my school. I nod politely to them – we aren’t really on close terms considering the fact they’re in a lower form.

*Sits and waits*

Two empty buses appear on the horizon, each of them trying to overtake the other.

“Hey, wait, wait for me!!!”

The busses roar pass.

*Waits again impatiently*

A couple of guys from the school next to mine walked up and sat down on the bench. Another girl I don’t know(wearing my school’s badge)emerges from the darkness and begins flirting with them. Her flirting with them is almost as disgraceful as the way the boys flirt back. (Importance of Being Earnest?)

Eventually, another bus appears. It is packed.

“Hey, I don’t mind sitting on the roof at all…really…just stop, please!!!”

The piece of cold, unfeeling metal ignores me and drives on without stopping.

*Sits back down and glares indignantly at the taillights*

The sun is beginning to show his face on the side of our planet. Oh no. I’m going to be horribly late for school and it wasn’t even my fault this time.

“Did you hear that a lot of busses broke down yesterday?” A lady next to me asked her friend in a loud voice.

At long last the bus I’ve been waiting for arrives.

Thankfully, I step up onto the first step of the bus…and remain there. That’s how packed it was. It was like being packed into a squashed can of sardines. My face is squashed into somebody’s chest and my hand was clinging onto the pole for dear life as I look at the roads. The doors aren’t closed – if they were I wouldn’t be on the bus. After doing a spot of worrying, I manage to tear my eyes away from the fast moving ground and got a shock.

The bus is moving in the opposite direction of my school! But…I am sure this is the right bus!!! Hesitating a little, I shout out to the driver over the heads of numerous passengers.

“Uhh…Mister?”

The passengers shoot me a dirty look. Well, how else was the driver supposed to hear me over the traffic sounds outside?

“Yeah?”

“Does this bus go to(Inserts bus-stop in front of my school)…?”

“Yeah.”

I wonder briefly if the driver’s vocabulary consists of only one word.

“But…we’re headed for the South! (My school is in the North.)”

“Yeah.”

“…Uhhh…how long will it take to reach my destination?”

Some of the passengers are now giving me the evil eye. Well, I'm SORRY, but it is very difficult to hang from a pole for dear life and conduct a sane conversation with the driver when I am practically half a step away from getting off the bus. Or rather, falling off the bus. You'd think they'd show some sympathy. So I ignored them.

“Depends.”

Well…it was good to know the driver could say something else other than ‘Yeah’.

“Depends on???” I’m starting to get desperate as the bus moves towards the official animal shelter which is in the complete opposite direction of my school.

“The traffic.”

I’m sorry, but I so don’t get him. Is he going to make a U-turn, pass the bus station where I got on and head for my school eventually? How long is eventually? YEARS?

Well, I’m pretty sure it won’t take years. Maybe a couple of hours that I don’t have.

I press the stop bell, take half a step and got off the bus. I start to walk in the direction of the original bus station I’d been at, which is right outside my house.
*Stomp stomp stomp*
*Trudge trudge trudge*
*Drag drag drag*
*Mumble mumble mumble*
*Stomp stomp stomp*
*Trudge trudge trudge*
...
...
When I reach the bus-stop, I look at the time. 7:30. I didn’t sit down and wait for another of those dratted contraptions we call buses. Oh no. It was as if I'd run a marathon. I dragged my feet around the corner and went home.

Seriously…one could pop a blood vessel. And this isn’t even the first time. I can’t wait till I get my driving licence. In the meantime, I’m stuck with those wonderful, fickle inventions that we call “buses.”

Excuse me.

The light at the end of the tunnel

2006-08-06T08:58:00.000+08:00

Part One
It has been said that
sometimes the people
who go into the darkness
and come out the other side
are the strongest people ever.
Just remember, bear this in mind
don't ever go deeper and deeper inside
never to come out again, never to emerge
from the end of the tunnel to bath in the light.
I'm not Shakespeare, I'm not Picasso, or Leonardo,
but I believe that every single person has the power
the power to change the world and determine destinies.
Always trust, always presevere throughout time - eternal.

Part Two
An empty soul wandered the length of a tunnel dark,
every inch of the darkness it left its mark.
Aimlessly floating dust specks in the tunnel long,
emotions of bygone years a lost song.
Dim figures, reminiscences of the past,
seemingly an eternity it'll last.
Light at the end,
around the bend.
Future destiny,
Sanctuary.

Descending this time.

The light at the end of the tunnel
Combined:
Part one: The beginning of the journey
Part two: The ending of the journey

Part I and II creates the illusion of one entering a tunnel through a narrow entrance - the tunnel widens in the middle - and finally contracted again.
Note that the first line in Part One is of moderate length, whereas the final line in Part Two consists of a single word. Hence - the other end of the tunnel is tapered down to a higher degree than the beginning.
Part I does not rhyme and the words are simply strung together without much calculation yet the meaning is clear. Part II portrays more uniformity but the meaning is strangely vague enough. Go figure. The middle of the journey is lost somewhere in between.

The Meeting Point of Destiny

2006-08-06T08:51:00.000+08:00

Dancing butterflies fluttering across life's deep sea,
Dreams and thoughts...memories.
Reality versus illusion,
The fragilty of life, a glass ball on a table's corner.
Tell me, who are you, really,
Who am I, really.
The meeting point of destiny,
Where does it begin..
Where does it end...
Someday our paths may cross,
Yet we would just brush past without knowing
That I could have been
That you could have been.

42 Ways to Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity

2006-07-14T22:34:00.000+08:00

1. Page yourself over the intercom. (Don't disguise your voice.)
2. Find out where your boss shops and buy exactly the same outfits. Always wear them one day after your boss does. (This is especially effective if your boss is a different gender than you are.)
3. Make up nicknames for all your coworkers and refer to them only by these names. "That's a good point, Sparky". "No I'm sorry I'm going to have to disagree with you there, Sport."
4. Send email to the rest of the company telling them what you're doing. For example "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the bathroom."
5. "Hi-lite" your shoes. Tell people that you haven't lost your shoes since you did this.
6. While sitting at your desk, soak your fingers in "Palmolive."
7. Put mosquito netting around your cubicle. Play a tape of jungle sounds all day.
8. Put a chair facing a printer, sit there all day and tell people you're waiting for your document.
9. Arrive at a meeting late, say you're sorry, but you didn't have time for lunch, and you're going to be nibbling during the meeting. During the meeting eat 5 entire raw potatoes.
10. Insist that your e-mail address be: zena_goddess_of_fire@companyname.com or Elvis_the_King@companyname.com
11. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask him or her if they want fries with that.
12. Send email to yourself engaging yourself in an intelligent debate about the direction of one of your company's products. Forward the mail to a co-worker and ask her to settle the disagreement.
13. Encourage your colleagues to join you in a little synchronized chair dancing.
14. Put your garbage can on your desk. Label it "IN."
15. Determine how many cups of coffee are "too many."
16. Develop an unnatural fear of staplers.
17. Decorate your office with pictures of Cindy Brady and Danny Partridge. Try to pass them off as your children.
18. For a relaxing break, get away from it all with a mask and snorkel in the fish tank. If no one notices, take out your snorkel and see how many you can catch in your mouth.
19. Send e-mail messages saying free pizza, free donuts etc... in the lunchroom, when people complain that there was none... Just lean back, pat your stomach, and say, "Oh you've got to be faster than that."
20. Adjust the tint on your monitor so that the brightness level lights up the entire work area. Insist to others that you like it that way.
21. Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over his or her caffeine addiction, switch to espresso.
22. Send e-mail to the rest of the company to tell them what you're doing. For example, "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the bathroom, in Stall # 3."
23. Reply to everything someone says with, "That's what you think."
24. Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy."
25. Adjust the tint on your monitor so that the brightness level lights up the entire working area. Insist to others that you like it that way.
26. In the memo field of all your checks, write 'for smuggling jewels'.
27. Dont use any punctuation
28. Use, too...much; punctuation!
29. As often as possible, skip rather than walk.
30. Ask people what sex they are. Laugh hysterically after they answer.
31. Specify that your drive-through order is 'to go'.
32. Sing along at the opera.
33. Call the psychic hotline and don't say anything.
34. At lunch time, sit in your parked car w/sunglasses on and point a hairdryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.
35. Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme.
36. Call 911 and ask if 911 is for emergencies. (warning: you can get arrested for this, but that can be instructive too)
37. Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their party because you're not in the mood.
38. Have your coworkers address you by your wrestling name, "Rock Hard."
39. When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I Won!", "I Won!" "3rd time this week!!!"
40. When leaving the zoo, start running towards the parking lot, yelling "Run for your lives, they're loose!"
41. Tell your boss, "It's not the voices in my head that bother me, its the voices in your head that do."
42. Tell your children over dinner. "Due to the economy, we are going to have to let one of you go."

~Snitched this from somewhere~

20 ways of Insanity - Exams.

2006-07-14T10:54:00.003+08:00

1. Bring a pillow. The big, fluffy type.
2. Do a Gollum/Smeagol impersonation when debating whether to choose 'A' or 'B'.
3. Threaten to sue because the chairs do not have headrests.
4. Bring an abacus for Mathematics.
5. Raise your hands from time to time, and when the invigilator comes, claim that you are merely improving blood flow to your brain.
6. Ask for extra paper. At the end of the exam, tear them all up and throw the pieces into the air while yelling "CONFETTI!!". When the invigilator comes to collect your paper, simply point to the pieces of paper on the floor.
7. Stare at the invigilator. When he/she comes over to inquire, say "Your face.... It gives me great inspiration." Then start writing.
8. Scribble some random doodles on the table after the exam has commenced. Midway through the exam, scream, " Oh no!!! I didn't know this table was rigged! I'm innocent, I tell you, INNOCENT!!"
9. Wink at the nearest girl/guy occasionally. If questioned by the invigilator, reply "What, a person can't flirt from time to time?" ( If you haven't noticed by now, most of these steps involve giving a hard time to invigilators. But then again, they might just appreciate the amusement. )
10. Bring lots of pens/pencils. Uno-stacko. Enough said. ( or Jenga, whatever suits your taste ).
11. Water balloons. Enough said too.
12. Use chalk to draw a square around your table and label it "My Thinking Area".
13. Juggle erasers.
14. Bring a pair of glasses that are tinted blue ( or any colour you prefer ). During the exam, put them on and stare and point at the front board while jabbering "invisible ink, invisible ink......"
15. During the objective paper, keep flipping a coin. After each flip, mutter audibly " heads...." and fill in your answer. Make sure the sound of the coin hitting the table is not muffled so it can be heard clearly. (alternate between heads and tails)
16. Perform a ritual prior to the exam on your table so that you will be more lucky for #15.
17. Turn your table and chair around, facing the back of the room instead of the front. Insist that this configuration is essential to optimize your Chi flow.
18. Do breathing exercises to relax. Loudly. If the invigilator ( or anyone else ) asks you to stop, shout to them " you're messing me up even more!".
19. Practice yodelling.
20. Write all of these down as your answers during the exam.

~Snitched off Jason~

22 ways of maintaining insanity while in a lift.

2006-07-14T10:49:00.000+08:00

1) CRACK open your briefcase or handbag, peer Inside and ask "Got enough air in there?"
2) STAND silent and motionless in the corner facing the wall without getting off.
3) WHEN arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act as if you're embarrassed when they open themselves.
4) GREET everyone with a warm handshake and ask him or her to call you Admiral.
5) MEOW occasionally.
6) STARE At another passenger for a while. Then announce in horror: "You're one of THEM" - and back away slowly
7) SAY -DING at each floor.
8) SAY "I wonder what all these do?" And push all the red buttons.
9) MAKE explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
10) STARE, grinning at another passenger for a while, then announce: "I have new socks on."
11) WHEN the elevator is silent, look around and ask: "Is that your beeper?"
2) TRY to make personal calls on the emergency phone.
13) DRAW a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers: "This is my personal space."
14) WHEN there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder, then pretend it wasn't you.
15) PUSH the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile, and go back for more.
16) ASK if you can push the button for other people but push the wrong ones.
17) HOLD the doors open and say you're waiting for your friend. After a while, let the doors close and say "Hi Greg, How's your day been?"
18) DROP a pen and wail until someone reaches to help pick it up, then scream: "That's mine!"
19) BRING a camera and take pictures of everyone in the lift.
20) PRETEND you're a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the Passengers.
21) SWAT at flies that don't exist.
22) CALL out "Group hug" then enforce it.

~Snitched off Jason~