riot on empty streets

someway or another, I’ll also remember to post this, and somehow, I’m glad this hardly gets any hits for it gives me more autonomy to write what I really believe in sometimes. 30th October was a flash, it didn’t even have any time for the realization that the year was ending; that I was going to be secondary 3, that I was actually going to leave my class. On the morning that we were in class for the usual illegal congregation about life&sex, then it dawned upon me that this was going to be the last time I was ever going to do this with the same group of people in this same classroom? It was sudden, sharp yet blunt in it’s force, the feeling that you have a miner working his way inside out. I never presented myself more than who I was in school to anyone else (everyone likes to be special) and there’s no shame in it.

a year passed and it was fast, like you could look into the mirror and almost just see the gradient curve even more gradually yet never notice it! it’s subtle but powerful, reminding you to appreciate and be contented with what you have because it’ll never stay that way. 1C’08 and 2A3′09 was indeed special, perhaps more  special than the other classes I have being with (this makes me feel so detached and distanced from reality) that we’re finally going to split up, stream and never chat like what we always do. What we have in our class is queer, we are a class of nonchalance, unity (expressed in different manners), we disappoint people, but at the end, we stick to each other like glue, and how we amazingly manage to do well for tests with the muggerauras and free notes being passed around. We hardly know each other properly beneath what we present to each other, and that’s saddening because we will never understand who we are but just stay as the glossy images we are. Well, we have survived through the different eras together, from SPASMBOY to like pms woman, boobman.

somehow or another, we met 有缘千里来相会，无缘面对不相识. thank you for whatever you have given me.

let me chase my back and let me do it, because beauty is found in the process but what you achieve will never be as good as what you really imagined it to be, yet you try. no matter, what’s wrong with that?

if someone could just remember sometime! somewhere that I am human and I have feelings, maybe things would be better, better than simply waiting for me to tell you what’s wrong, why’s it wrong, what you should do. hate this.

OBS was hell, we walked through hell and survived. The joy we describe isn’t the kind that is cheap sickly sweet joy that you experience after you finish something superficial, it’s sort of that kind of feeling that you know for once, you did something extraordinary (perhaps not to the others) but to yourself. TREKKING THROUGH CRAZY DISTANCES, pitching in utter darkness, learning how to combine different swear words to form one long string to express how you feel in the morning, KAYAKING TO AND FRO SINGAPORE ACROSS THE CHANNEL which was super exciting with the oil tanker!!! It’s almost a form of escapism for all of us to go to OBS that for that 5 days, you worry about food, accommodation, would you be able to shower that night, when will you sleep, will that be water rather than MSG, friendship, politics, school and everything else. To be constantly worried holds the heart down, for OBS has a certain way of making everyone hate it together so you become so close to each other that you appreciate their existence and almost everything that you have around you, perhaps make you a happier person for I am afraid that I’ll lose all this when I phase back into where I should be. This is why OBS is special.

OBS OBS OBS OBS BAKC ON SATURDAY.

I think I just realised, how scary it is to be growing up.

I hate days where it’s so perfect, that you can lie on the top of the meadow looking at clouds float by, with coffee, a great book and everything else because it destroys everything you have to look forward to. It’s the kind of descent that you feel after you know that the best day of your life just passed, and it’s time to go back to reality. I rather have constant perks and surprises daily to keep me awake.

A dog has no use for fancy cars or big homes or designer clothes. A waterlogged stick will do just fine. A dog didn’t care if you are rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he’ll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare, pure and special? How many people make you feel extraordinary.

I’ll walk through the empty streets with something constant under my feet, below the dim neon lights and cast me a cup of coffee with no aroma and caffeine. I lose my essence, I find my shadow, I wonder why I exist and I walk. I lose that sense of security and constance suddenly, for I seem to be in total darkness. I follow the alleys and twisted aisles, in hope for a light. I stood below the light and realised, I lost my shadow.

My shadow! I mused, surprised. I was certainly the lucky man who made the page and although it was a rather sad news, I was happy. They printed my photograph on the front page, with a caption as the man who lost his shadow. Reporters came, scientists came yet no one knew why I lost a shadow. But I knew.

It was one of those reasons that a person would hold close to his heart as the questions he would post to himself on his death bed, to affirm that Death didn’t come too early.It was one of those reasons that made you feel like who you were, it was part of your identity. It was the reason that would made you feel human and child-like.

things I promise I will do after EOYs:

1. Council Retreat

2. Organise my computer

3. Organise all my files

4. File my things

5. Study? haha

I am so drunk with the mellowed happiness of finishing the exams but uncertain about whatever may be in the future:

1) I hope you grow to eventually learn that not everything is about you nor is it so principally centred, that maybe one day if you get disappointed too much you will learn that whatever you have stood for is not necessarily what is the most important in life. Whirl like the mesh of colours splashed across the dark room and maybe one day when the room lits up, you will realize the myraid of colours that exist beside you. Hope that there will be a fan, to whirl and allow deviations to join together and learn to trust and believe in others for we live as who we are

2) someone magically subscribe emotions and love into words and reality! for mere words hold limitless chances of changing the world, and mere emotions exist to dictate. learn to see that the world can be soft as lace but remember not to over-indulge into anything. remember to love, not in trust but in belief for one day you will finally find where you stand and hopefully, you will not fall too hard

3) don’t you worry there my honey, we must still learn to last through this and no matter what the others think about you, never ever let them trample over you like darkness. learn to fight and oppose because only then you will understand and grow.

ahh, random rants and incoherent postings are so irritating sometimes. look back, and I can’t understand myself yesterday.

wouldn’t it be nice if human emotions were subscribed out on a book. I promised myself that I wouldn’t write erratic posts after EOYs end cos there wouldn’t be a reason but to be reminded by what I once believed in (stupid principle) that if a human does not have anything to worry about, he’s either going to die or that he’s able to let go of everything – somewhat like, self-combustion.

React me with oxygen and find that you’ll have nothing left of me.