Can you feel the burn? Choon can, and there's precious little left.Wednesday, August 27, 2008
at 11:12 PM;
Choon be healing silence.
With post.
This week sucked. Quintessentially.
What with
the evils of PW, the rejection of my Evaluation of Materials(EOM) and the crushing of the ground, being initially able to go home at 10am today but having a PW meeting at, of all times, 4.30pm, having to rush EOM by hook or by crook before tomorrow, having 9 hours of mindnumbing lessons, no proper games of frisbee to lighten the mood, no time to do anything I really want to do, History essay outline which Li Yuan and I are supposed to present in class tomorrow, the fact that I'll definitely not be getting enough sleep tonight and probably till the co(uncillors)ws come home (they stay really really late), irregular eating and sleeping cycles and lack of proper conversation school and all, I'm
dead tired and burned out.
Oh. Phew. Li Yuan said he'd do the outline himself and let me concentrate on EOM, since he's done with his. I feel bad.
Shall try to make it up to him somehow.
My guitar is rotting away, and so am I.
But enough of complaints.
Choon is too tired to continue and still be able to finish his EOM, so here's poem. I redid [irritation], which I posted a while back, and kinda fleshed it out as part of a longer, three-part/stanza poem. Wrote it when I was really pissed recently.
anger
\\irritation
and like the last droplet
off a faucet squeezed shut;
a string
goes
snap
\\wrath
quick-boiling; a fire-flood
consumes all thought and
ears buzz with the crash
of rage's furious strike
\\after
heavy;
smoke rises, and the simmer
of charred emotion
ripples through frayed nerves
as healing
starts.
time for nap.
the rest is silence;
Oh well.Monday, August 25, 2008
at 10:58 PM;
Hey hey.
About the Midnight Grind-
I finished it. With half an hour to spare.
Most of that half hour was spent trying to fix the beige box bane of belligerence #@!$%@#$ printer. I managed to unjam it more than 20 times, only to have it jam right away when it loaded a fresh sheet of paper.
I really thank God I still managed to sleep a little about five minutes.
Couldn't take it and steadily succumbed caught more sleep during lecture and pretty much the rest of the day, I almost dieded during PE gym.
More work over the weekend, got really really pissed on Sunday, but I shall not talk of it. Yet. There's no point complaining, and it probably is my fault.
Tried to do EOM (that's pure evil evaluation of materials for the bane of all man[and woman]kind subject Project Work, you folks), succumbed to gaming decided to toss it aside for a night of TF2, then got up early today to finish it. Was late for assembly.
Today passed more or less in a blur. Bought a Razer Deathadder (pure distilled ownage in a box a gaming mouse). Got more pissed, for almost the same reason. Tried trying to unemo.
And now she is daoing me.
My life sucks.
Then again, every other stupid emo retard teen with confidence issues thinks that, so at least I'm not alone in my immature stupidity and lack of total social awareness.
Bah.
human values
about eighteen dollars, sack
included, long after expiry.
make it ten in bulk,
advance orders only.
less than a dollar an hour
when outsourced, though prices
are subject to change, according
to education, aesthetics
and social ability.
caution: harmful if swallowed.
design changes over time, and
contents may differ from
that initially apparent
on outside packaging.
product, if misused, may
cause bodily harm, self-destruct,
start wars and great movements,
even permanent emotional damage
or do nothing at all.
note: instructions not included.
results may vary.
the rest is silence;
Midnight Grind (v2)Friday, August 22, 2008
at 2:59 AM;
Phew.
After doing work, and napping on and off, GP is taken care of by my groupmates (thank God), Lit is (John) Donne done, and PW is in the pipeline.
Will post a poem later when I finish, if I finish.
the rest is silence;
The midnight/early morning grind.Thursday, August 21, 2008
at 10:35 PM;
The mission begins, indeed.
Shall post updates throughout the night.
Work to be done:
-Project Work Written Report. Complete redraft, including:
-Reworking of activity/plan into extreme table of proness.
-Reorganisation of the whole darned report.
-Content page. Content page. CONTENT PAGE.
-Appendix. Survey and interview transcript, which I haven't received.
-Bibliography. Need to actually find some sources to quote.
-Correction of the multitude extreme profusional horde of
factual/argumentative errors.
-General Paper presentation.
-Collation of data from websites.
-Organization of data into points and arguments.
-Sending to classmates.
-To be done by 1130hrs. Which reminds me - why am I still posting? Bah.
-Literature essay
-On Othello.
-1000 words.
-In a nutshell - bah.
Now the midnight grind begins
in five...
four...
three...
two...
one...
*siren*
enough for forever.Tuesday, August 19, 2008
at 8:06 PM;
Holy Spirit rain down, rain down.
Oh, comforter and friend,
How we need Your touch again.
Holy Spirit rain down,
rain down.
Let Your power fall,
Let Your voice be heard,
Come and change our hearts
As we stand on Your word.
Holy Spirit, rain down.
clique
note to self: pakistan was partitioned
from india, due to
'religious differences'.
i.
I wonder how they split the land.
Was it a fault, did they string
p(akistani)olice lines, or did the
ground simply stretch, pulled by
bilateral tensions?
or did it simply
drift; bottled defiance
in
saltwater currents
ii.
It is easy to see the borders
in my school, what with
the no man's land of empty chairs
in the lecture theatre, punctuated
by the occasional loner's
declaration of independence.
familiar faces,
corridor apparitions;
features fading fast.
iii.
Perhaps it is all perceived,
perchance there is permanence, per se
but personally,
I'n perplexed.
Maybe it's all relative,
maybe the other patch of dirt
always looks better, but
then again, we're relatively content.
So we all move on,
a part apart from others;
one race, many states.
I'm no Edward, and yet
the rest is silence;
In which Choon finally decides to stop using "In which...", and realises he has just done it. Again.Monday, August 18, 2008
at 9:57 PM;
I'm rather frustrated.
But no. I shan't post any more on my personal troubles. Caleb said some stuff about that, and I kinda agree with him that I shouldn't post this kinda stuff out to the whole world. Besides, it's sort of being an attention whore.
Ah, well.
Lack of sleep is killing me softly with his song, and hence or otherwise, prove that I need sleep. Badly. PW is seriously the worst thing I've ever encountered. I did what basically amounted to a rewriting of my group's PW Written Report over the weekend, and didn't sleep all through Friday/Saturday night. Plus it's still unfinished.
Granted, I did feel rather guilty for not doing a lot up till this point.
Bah. Whatever.
Well, actually, I intended to post this to say that I will be going on hiatus. So, this blog will be dead for a while. Till maybe after September.
Promos and Chinese A levels (and PW, horror of horrors) loom ahead.
So here goes.
Bye. For now.
the rest is silence;
In which Choon decides to step up his mugging, and the school timetable decides to step up 2. And Choon gets served.Thursday, August 14, 2008
at 10:48 PM;
One word.
Phew.
Thank God it's over.
The school timetable system ROCKS. Seriously.
Had 11 hours of stuff in a row today, because my only break was taken up by class photo taking. Come on, half the class wasn't here today, and nobody in the class really cares anyway, so why bother? And apparently the school's policy is to have a break at least once every five hours. Which they've hit for my Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Thursday has 5 lessons in a row, a break, then four or so hours of lessons, then immediately after that is math remedial for 1 or 2 hours (it was 2 today). Break was stolen by the evil photographers, and I had a (horror of horrors!) Math test right before a Lit poetry comparision test. I almost died during the Lit test, I was so tired, the words were literally blurring in front of my eyes, but I really thank God that I was able to write out a sad excuse (hey, at least I tried) of an essay, which was waaaaaaaay too short.
Oh. That, and I wrote "and peace by Leo Tolstoy" after every incidence of the word 'war' in the poem.
Yes, yes, I am too bored.
Way too bored.
Choon's brain has le melted, so he shall go off to shower and hit the sack.
Poem. Not as straightforward as my others, but I kinda like it.
steal this poem
you may steal the water,
but you can't steal the spring-
steal this poem, I challenge you; employ
subterfuge, slip it out as
it rings in the air, or tear
it from my grasp; rip these verses
out of semblance.
steal this poem, I say; borrow form
and movement, copy my speech
but note: once spoken, considered old;
dump them, after, on the shelf, filed
out of memory.
steal this poem, right now; rob me
of language, hijack the proverbial
locomotive before thought leaves
the imaginary rails, merging
out of control.
steal this poem, if you wish; pick
what you will, because linguistic chaff
is but a discarded sweet wrapper
plucked by the wind, grown
out of a single
unattainable root.
Off to sleep.
the rest is silence;
First Picture Post.Monday, August 11, 2008
at 10:37 AM;
Choon can't be bothered to type out a full post, so here be pics!
Whee.
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"Giving Hope. Improving Lives." Apparently Turf Club and Singapore Pools are under this organisation called Tote Board.
"...together with the 'Smile' graphic [on the logo] represents the caring aspect of Tote Board and the happiness it brings to people's lives." [emphasis mine]
Am I the only one who thinks there's something wrong here?
Oh, apparently they run the Yellow Ribbon Project. Hmm. Maybe they're just finding an additional use for the "outputs" of their business. Or perhaps they just don't know that one of the main reasons why we actually have a Yellow Ribbon Project is them.
Oh well. Human stupidity in action.
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Dustbin blown from the Raja Block foyer to the middle of the field next to it. The wind was really strong that day, it was raining sideways! Too bad my phone cam couldn't capture details sharp enough to see the rain. It's raining in the picture, by the way.
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Boredom before Math remedial leads to me drawing the Have A Nice Day smiley outside A51 with water. Didn't look really nice though, and the floor was sloped so the water flowed to one side, leading to a weird smooshed version of the smiley.
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My attempt to form a heart shape during the school's National Day celebrations. Hmm.
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Driving on the expressway in Siva's car after overnight prayer meeting on Friday/early Saturday, he sent Nicky and I home. Nicky was snoring in the back, and Siva was fighting to stay awake too. Didn't really feel tired, and the sunrise was really pretty so I tried to snap something. I wish I had my 40D with me though.
Oh, by the way, the only reason why I'm not posting pictures I've taken with my 40D on this blog is the fact that they are a pain to upload. Come on, at a couple of megabytes each, I'm gonna take an hour to post something like this.
I will try to resize them and post them, if I have the time/motivation. ^^
And lastly,
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For those who don't see the pun,
pai kia in Hokkien literally means "bad kid", and is usually used to describe a young gangster/ruffian.
Interesting pun.
Oh well, I'm out of steam.
Steam (well, actually, Team Fortress 2) beckons.
Off to play.
[edit]
Choon shall make a New Year's 11th of August Day resolution.
Be less emo.
Now I'm off to play. ^^
[/edit]
Saturday, August 9, 2008
at 10:04 PM;
please stop pretending to care.especially you.
you're just hurting me more.
I'll keep it all in, somehow.
I cannot show it.
not anymore.
the rest is silence;
In which Choon shall post
at 8:56 PM;
a proper post tomorrow.
Allura - Closure
I don't know where to go
I don't know what to do
Everything seems to fade away.
Everything doesn't seem logical.
You don't know me like you should.
Find someone find anyone, find somebody else.
I'm tired of trying to be sensible.
Find someone, find anyone, find somebody else.
I'm feeling too cold, too lost,
too old to last, to even try anymore.
I'm just pretending I'm okay.
I don't know where to go
I don't know what to do
You don't know me like you should.
Find someone find anyone, find somebody else.
I'm tired of trying to be sensible.
Find someone, find anyone, find somebody else.
I'm feeling too cold, too lost,
too old to last, to even try anymore.
I'm just pretending I'm okay.
Take a look at me now
Do you even know me now?
Did you even try?
Dont even try anymore.
\\expository suicide
the ceiling is false;
(or so you think)
unstitch this collar thread,
fight against gravity as you
kick against too-yielding air;
leave yourself for dead.
rage against yourself, rage
because you know that
you don't, as you skip
to the last page.
and finally you know,
through the greyed pain;
the only way out
should've been through
the window.
I'm sorry for wasting your time.
see, who am I, so say that the situation isn't great?
'cause it's my job to make the most of it,
of course I didn't know that it would happen to me.
not that easy,
no.
This really sucks, and it's my own doing. Why do I choose to be sad? I don't know who I am anymore. How could I have changed so much? Am I becoming just another person pretending, presenting different facades in front of different people, just to fit in? I've become a chameleon. It's not me anymore, it's just this skin, this shell I'm hiding in, and I just wish that someone, someone would just care enough to know the real me, my hopes and fears, this stupid immature kid inside who wants to stop being a big boy, to stop being what others want me to be, to make people happy with who I am. For real.
What the hell is the point of all this. None of the people I want to see this actually give enough of a damn to read. Why am I writing this anyway? Catharsis? It's just making me feel worse, and I know that I only feel so down because I want to, because I want to wallow in self-pity, because I don't want to stand up to the challenge.
The Australian speaker had a word for me yesterday. He said that I needed to stand up to what I know I should be doing, that I've already known where I should go, that these troubles are there to strengthen me to carry out God's work, His plan.
I know he's right, that what God's trying to tell me is just a reminder to stay on the path.
It's right, and I hate it, I hate myself for fighting it.
But I just want to be loved like I am, I want someone to see that my faith and spirit is not as strong as I've been trying to make it seem, I want someone to hug me and tell me that it's okay, that I don't have to fear anymore.
Please.
I'm so afraid.
I don't want to fail anymore.
In which Choon...Wednesday, August 6, 2008
at 9:56 PM;
Shall stop being emo. For now.
Today was a baaaaad day.
Well. Firstly, because they switched Wednesday and Thursday's timetables in lieu (I can't believe I just used that word) of the National Day holiday tomorrow.
Well, not firstly. 'Because' better describes it.
Because they switched the timetables, there was no frisbee today.
Frisbee's one of the few things that's keeping me sane happy in the pile of educational crap I've steeped myself so deeply in school. That and all my friends. Seriously, I'd just die if I stoned in the canteen every break and didn't get my minimum requisite 4 and a half hours of crazy fun in the sun every week. Man, I can't believe I just used that expression.
Well, today's a day of firsts.
Well, let me just say that the school timetabling system rocks. You know, I have no idea just how they manage to fit 10 hours of lessons in one day, with only one break in the middle, and still say with a straight face that they're planning schedules for optimum absorption of knowledge.
Seriously.
Then again, why so serious.
Sorry, overused expression.
Hmm, not much to say.
Oh, let me say proudly that today was the first day I sat down and did more than three math questions by myself. Seven or eight, in fact, over the course of an hour. Truly a first in all my years of mathematical experience. Well, not 'experience', otherwise I'd have done more questions. Oh, well.
And. Random observation. Frisbee people really love using the Yahoo group as IM. And flooding everyone's email inboxes. It's kinda amusing though to see the email notifications keep popping up every minute or so, then opening the messages to see one- or two-line replies. I've even seen 'lol'.
Yes, just 'lol'. Without even the companionship of punctuation.
I've just realised that the length of my posts is dictated by the size of the scroll bar next to the box where I type them out. Every time I blog, I keep typing and typing until the scroll bar shrinks to the size of the arrow buttons. Only then do I feel that the post is long enough and worthy of posting.
Weird idiosyncrasies.
OH. Speaking of idiosyncrasies.
My class has just gotten a relief Literature teacher in replacement for Ms Veera and the woman who can speak ten thousand words of nothing and leech your brain of all it's constituent sanity Ms Lim. And the new teacher has a really high voiceuh and hasuh a habituh ofuh speakinguh likeuh thisuh.
I'm not exaggerating. Just ask Zhang Kai. Unless you don't know who Zhang Kai is. In which case you should rejoice at your blessedness.
Just kidding. XD
Well, at least the new teacher teaches, for a change.
Ooh. I remembered I have a pile of music CDs, DVD movies, books and snacks which I've bought over the course of the year or just recently, yet have not had the time/chance/motivation to peruse/partake of.
Man, my vocabulary is splendiferosically amazoringcal.
Currently on the 'to use/consume/watch/listen to' list of ultimate slackerdom are Fall Out Boy's Infinity On High, Yellowcard's Paper Walls, Norma Jean's Redeemer, Underoath's Define The Great Line, the whole darned Lord of the Rings movie trilogy, 8 Mile, Hero, first meeting of hands by Paul Tan, broken by the rain by Felix Cheong, unmarked treasure & tilting our plates to catch the light by Cyril Wong, The Lies That Build A Marraige by Suchen Christine Lim, this year's CAP publication titled Healing Silence, the latest issues of Reader's Digest, National Geographic, Time and The Economist, one pack of Jack and Jill Barbecue potato chips, one pack of Roller Coaster snacks, one pack of Ruffles Barbecue potato chips, and a pack of Redvines which have been in my tin since the start of the year.
Well, I think that's about it. Not too much.
Now. Poems. First one's kinda immature, I think, but oh well.
Iraq
I knew not of the joy of kindergarten;
nor chalk graffiti on my desk.
I knew not of tooth-marked
tumblers of Ribena, hanging
from cheap plastic straps
on the spoilt necks of children.
I knew not of classmates and recess
and thirty-cent nuggets, nor
did I know of assembly
in the mornings, mouthing the words
to a song I do not understand, I knew
not of being scolded by teachers
for untidy uniforms, I knew not
of uniforms, I knew not of the hopes
and fears of other children-
only the man who ran up
to my tin school building,
then the most brilliant sun-
This second one was inspired from sheer frustration during Lit with the teacher's infuriating oratory tic. It's short, but words fail in that kind of absolute annoyance. Bah.
irritation
and like the last droplet
off a faucet squeezed shut;
a string
goes
snap
the rest is silence;
In which ChoonMonday, August 4, 2008
at 11:22 PM;
wishes you'd stop playing games and just tell me if this is more than "just friends".
Please.
the rest is silence;
In which Choon...Sunday, August 3, 2008
at 10:32 PM;
Is not really in a good mood.
And it's not school this time.
So no long post. Just a rant.
Bah. I can't think straight. Shall speak in lyrics.
this is your life;
are you who you want to be?
and all I really wanna do
is to love you;
a kind much closer than friends use.
but I still can't say it
after all we've been through.
and are you waking up slowly?
you're nothing but lonely.
are you waking up holding,
holding your breath?
and are you looking for something?
I promised you one thing.
I promise I'll always,
always be there.
it's alright if there's nothing more to say.
and I'm on fire when you're near me,
I'm on fire when you speak.
and all we are;
is all so far
maybe I'm just
idealistic
to assume that truth
could be fact and form,
that love could be a verb,
maybe I'm
just a little misinformed.
I'm not copping out.
fumbling his confidence
and wondering why the world
has passed him by
this is your life;
are you who you want to be?
we were meant to live
for so much more;
have we lost ourselves
somewhere we live inside
maybe redemption has stories to tell;
maybe forgiveness is right where you fell;
where can you run to escape from yourself?
where're you gonna go?
where're you gonna go?
salvation is here
I dare you to move
like today never happened,
like today never happened before
everyone, everyone
you look so lonely.
near to you,
I am healing.
when I go down,
I go down hard
this is your life;
are you who you want to be?
don't forget to remember me.
and we've only just begun
to live
we're spinning out in circles-
does it have to start with a broken heart,
broken dreams and bleeding parts?
and before I die
I wanna burn out bright.
this is your life;
is it everything you dreamed that it would be
when the world was younger,
and you had everything to lose?
Doesn't it just suck that the person you're in love with probably doesn't know or even care? Or worse, "just wants to stay friends".
And on top of that, you're not the only person who likes her.
And those other people are your friends.
Bah.
the rest is silence;
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Driving on the expressway in Siva's car after overnight prayer meeting on Friday/early Saturday, he sent Nicky and I home. Nicky was snoring in the back, and Siva was fighting to stay awake too. Didn't really feel tired, and the sunrise was really pretty so I tried to snap something. I wish I had my 40D with me though..jpg)
For those who don't see the pun, pai kia in Hokkien literally means "bad kid", and is usually used to describe a young gangster/ruffian..jpg){kind=link}