not even a little one

"so do you think that we could work out a sign?
so i’ll know it's you and that it's over so i won't even try."
jesus - brand new

so my class won the captain's ball 'class-bonding-cum-competition' today, which is really great because it's like the first thing i've won in poly. and it's great that most of us turned up for it AND WE WON!

the prize was $50 (divided by 19) and a bunch of glue sticks and cd-rws, but that doesn't matter, BECAUSE WE WON!

actually it's not that much of a big deal BUT WE WON!

i should try to be more conventional

strange girl to her friend: "don't you think he looks like sam?"

me: "no, i look like ryan."

stunned silence.

sad/bored

this morning i had a dream again, there was a big sale and i was buying jeans. dreaming of such things is really a waste of my sleeping time.

i think the recent spate of dreams are my mind's way of giving me something to think about, because i've been feeling rather empty and bored these days after being sad for fuck-knows how long.

when i was sad, at least i was feeling something. now that i'm not sad, i've got nothing to feel and i just get bored. i get so bored that my mind has to dream up nonsensical stuff to keep me occupied.

it's just a big void that needs to be filled.

that's why i hate it

i've been dreaming an extraordinarily large amount these 2 days. 3 times i've slept, 3 times i've dreamt. it's the kind of dream that can continue after you wake up and fall asleep again. either that or i start a new dream. some of them are really long and winding and they're all incredibly realistic.

well, everything's realistic when you're dreaming.

like when i dreamt i was in nyp, with my mother and a friend. my mother had to go to the toilet, and the toilet was in 7-eleven. this 7-eleven was kinda like a smelly and wet fish shop, with tanks of weird fishes lining the walls. it even smelt fishy as i flinched, worried that the fishes would jump out of their tanks.

in another dream, i was looking at a strange plant. it looked something like a big rose on a palm tree. the wind was blowing and a rose petal flew off, and a part of the plant immediately detatched itself and flew after the petal, caught it and re-attached it to the rose. i found this amusing and went to pluck off another petal and watched as the plant caught it. i did this again, and this time, the plant caught the petal and brought it in front of my face. it said "PUT IT BACK NOW!" i swear it was fucking creepy and i woke up with a little shiver.

then just now i dreamt that i was in a classroom and my teacher was some sort of a witch, like a real one with magic powers and stuff. there was even a voice giving narrations to this story. she was trying to get me to go for remedial lessons so that she could do evil things to me, and there was a consent form. i tried to delay filling it up, but she used her magic powers to do it. then i said "i need to check it first," and she was so pissed off because i out-smarted her.

i was trying my best to piss her off throughout my dream, and she couldn't do anything to me because there was a whole class present. the narrator said that she was cursed, and the only way to destroy her was to find the name of a prince from a book which looked strangely like i'm the king of the castle. also as part of the curse, she couldn't touch the ground.

so we were outside the classroom and suddenly i wrestled her to the ground and pinned her down. she was screaming in agony but she didn't die, so i took the book and stabbed it with a pair of scissors but nothing happened, because the only way is to find the name. such an anti-climax. we then got up and went back to class, acting like nothing happened.

25% beauty, 75% shit

parents-to-be like to claim that they're bringing their child into a beautiful world, giving them the chance to experience all the beauty. i think it's something terribly vulgar because the world's not really that beautiful. alright, maybe 25% of it is beauty, but the other 75% is filled with shit.

so the child is born out of a lie. that's beauty at its finest.

when they imagine their child, it's always the cute little toddler, or the bright young student with a great future ahead. i don't believe that their imagination stretches out till when the child is 30 years old, facing the shit of this world. or when the child is 70, waiting to die by himself because his kids abandoned him.

they look at a cute little toddler and think "oh, my child is gonna be like him one day!"

they don't look at an old man and think, "oh, my child is gonna be like him one day!"

but the child could become just like the old man. or become a murderer or a cheat or a piece of shit.

or would you, as a parent, still have your child if you know he's gonna grow up and become a piece of shit? i think not.

but why? after all the original plan was to 'experience the beauty of this world', wasn't it? he would still experience the beauty, AND all the shit.

i wonder if bringing a child into this world means letting him choose his own path in life, even if you know he is definitely gonna become a piece of shit in the future.

[this came out really messy, totally unlike what i had in mind. i'm not sure if you'll get my point.]

a sad story

"kiss me and i'll float away," she said.

he did, and she did.

'love' always ends in heartbreak

"i'll never have to buy adjacent plots of earth
we'll never have to rot together underneath dirt
i'll never have to lose my baby in the crowd
i should be laughing right now"
limousine - brand new

the above is called 'making the most of a bad time' and it is what i've been trying to do for a long time.

i've always thought of how much it would suck when a people get married and then slowly the LOVE is lost. maybe over 10 years, over 50 years (if they're lucky), but slowly but surely, one fine day they'll realise it's gone.

then they think "OMG I'M FUCKED!"

or if somehow the LOVE lasts forever, one fine day one of them is going to die and leave the other behind, all alone and utterly heartbroken.

now, that would truely suck.

unless of course, they both die at the same time. i'm going to do that.

sing into my spoon

"when i used to go out i'd know everyone i saw
now i go out alone if i go out at all"
the rat - the walkmen

"i was the glue that kept my friends together
now they don't talk and we don't go out
i used to know the name of every person i’d kissed
now i’ve made this bed and i can't fall asleep in it"
millstone - brand new

i just thought the the 2 songs sounded quite alike. anyone else think so?

no, because no one reads this blog =(

join the addiction

"if you keep asking me i'll melt away in the summer air.
it won't hurt half as much and i'm begging you to just tell me something."
i can tell - saosin

this stupid song is so damn addictive.

i do jihad too

i saw this on a big banner outside a mosque while on a long 67 ride. the parts in quotes are almost exactly what was on the banner. the rest are similar but not exact.

a man asked a prophet, "should i participate in jihad?"

the prophet said, "are your parents living?"

the man replied, "yes, they are."

the prophet said, "do jihad for their benefit."

i thought it was rather funny considering the common interpretation of jihad as holy war, or 'bomb-the-infidels campaign'.

"it can imply striving to live a moral and virtuous life, spreading and defending islam, and fighting injustice and oppression, among other things."
- wikipedia

maybe she could bring home a hot female human

as you would probably know, my sister brought home a cat in december. it was from my maid's friend.

now another of her friend has a dog to give away. (i think all my maid's friends work in animal farms.) anyway it's a jack russel and my sister wants it. i don't want it because it's gonna pee all over the house.

my mother is suggesting that we dump the cat and take in the dog. i dunno what's wrong with her. she thinks that we did the cat a favour by adopting it and it's enjoying life too much and causing too much trouble so we should bring it to the market and leave it there.

she thinks we did the cat a favour. she thinks the cat is a toy. the dog is gonna be the new toy.

maybe i was supposed to be a toy too, until she gave birth to my brother and realised that it's not that easy to dump a 2-year-old in the market and go unnoticed.

actually my mother's not evil like i make her out to be. she's just confused.

lolzxc

once i knew a pretty girl. i asked her to read my blog. she replied, "Guys who hv blogs are gay 1." i am eternally traumatised and no longer ask pretty girls to read my blog.

cleanse my soul

i'm abstaining from all forms of vice for a month, until 15th june. which means no alcohol and seX and ciggerattes.

the point of this exercise is a secret.

iPoop

if only my parents did this for me.

i'm a coward

suicide has always been labelled as cowardice, not being brave enough and choosing to run away from problems by killing yourself.

but i think that it takes a whole lot of bravery to commit suicide. i mean, you're gonna kill yourself, it's seriously fucked up, you know it and yet still have the guts to continue.

it also takes a lot of bravery to say that you've had enough of whatever shit that's going on and decide to end it, once and for all.

of course, all the people around you who care about you (assuming there are people who care) are gonna feel like shit, but that's a whole new story.

it was late and we were bored

back during the holidays, we walked into the mcdonald's outlet at harbourfront and sat at a recently-vacated table. the food was not cleared yet, and i noticed there were still a lot of fries left.

so i started eating the fries. "the fries are still warm," i commented. soon, 2 others had joined in.

i noticed that a little malay boy sitting at the next table was staring at us in utter horror and disgust and was telling his mother and brother about us. i waved at him.

soon we finished the fries and were challenging each other to eat other random stuff on the table, like the salad or chilli sauce, or take a drink from the cup. too bad none of us were brave enough.

i don't do this often.

it's nice, really

my friend was singing this in school today. you can try too.

lyrics

where am i?

i was on the bus home today. the sky was blue and it looked so strange and alien. it felt as though i saw the blue sky for the first time in my life.

kill a cyclist, save a life

they always say when disaster strikes, it always makes sure that it fucks you up real bad. ok, i made that up. but it's true, just read on.

an example of a disaster would be having to go to school early on a weekend morning. that's a real disaster. and so i'm travelling on the bus, thinking about the other 20,000 things i could be doing (ie. sleep). the bus is at bukit timah road, near the nature reserve.

i notice many cyclists on the road. but wait, these aren't ordinary cyclists, they're lance armstrong wannabes! they're dressed in stupid swimsuit-looking cycling gear, riding their fancy-ass bikes on the road. alright, none of my business.

so i continue looking out of the window, counting the number of lance armstrongs passing by to help ease my boredom. i was reaching armstrong #15 when i realise that the bus was moving very slowly, around 1kmph, as the other cars zipped by.

"fuck the driver," i thought, and looked towards the front. then i see that it's not the poor driver's fault. there's a lance armstrong wannabe cycling in front of my bus. except that lance armstrong cycles fast while this cunt cycles at 1kmph. in front of my bus.

you see, the thing about these stupid cunts is that they believe that just because they're dressed in swimsuits and have expensive bikes, they have the authority to cycle on the road, rather than stick to the double yellow lines like those good bangla cyclists. the difference is that banglas allow vehicles to pass whereas cunts-in-swimsuits block traffic and forces everyone behind to travel at 1kmph as well.

sometimes the bus would overtake them and i would heave a sigh of relief. then the bus would stop at a bus stop and i watch helplessly as cunt-in-swimsuit overtakes the bus again and again and again.

another thing about their swimsuits is that bus drivers seem to give them more respect. if it were a bangla doing this on his rusty bike, the bus would have ran over him and he'd be turned into prata a long time ago. but cunts-in-swimsuits don't even get honked.

and so i sat on the bus, my serene appearance totally disguising the mental turmoil i was experiencing. i thought to myself, "when disaster strikes, it always makes sure that it fucks you up real bad."

yay, fuck you

oh cool, this is my 501st post. anyway i've got something to say.

i hate (MOST) china permanant residents in singapore. and i hate it that they're invading my fucking fine country and turning this place into a mini-china. actually singapore is a 4th generation mini-china, considering our forefathers all came from there, but that's beside the point.

they're loud and crass, ill-mannered and irritating. they piss me off to no end, from the screeching chinawoman on the bus to the stupid chinamen on the streets, FUCK THEM ALL. they bring their damn village-habits into singapore and pollute our beautiful country.

we were playing football at a basketball court in clementi (clementi is fucking infested with those cunts, seriously) last monday when a group of 5 chinamen in their early 20s came barging in with their basketballs, midway through our game.

they started their game of basketball right in front of our goal. so my friend told them in a very friendly manner that we were first to the court, and that there was another court across the road where they could continue their game of chineseball. i mean basketball.

some of them agreed to leave, but their chief chinaman refused. he even told us to sit down and let them play for half an hour, after which they would leave. NO FUCKING WAY WE WERE GONNA DO THAT.

so we continued our game, instead it had turned into shoot-the-china-man. they made easy targets since they were standing in front of our goal. once we got the ball, BANG! the first shot missed their heads, but it definitely ticked them off.

their chief was definitely getting pissed. we were prepared for a fight. 10 of us against 5 of them, although they were much bigger in size. many were itching to attack the chief cunt should anything happen, although we were NOT going to start any fight, just participate, should one occur.

shoot-the-china-man went on for quite a long time, until we got bored as we wanted to play football instead of this stupid game. oh, and their chief got hit in the face during the game.

we had another round of negotiations with them. chief chinacunt somehow missed the logic that we were there first, therefore they should fuck off and die. so blah blah, until he gave up. we gave them a final round of 7 baskets, and they would leave after that.

so they played and left, and we were happy and continued with our game.

The End


sidenote: i know that not all china people are cunts, and there are definitely many nice china people, as well as many cunty singaporeans. it's just that they seem to stand out a little too much. maybe it's because they're foreigners which causes them to get noticed more often.

and i'm fucking sure that karma will bite me in the ass and make me fall in love with a beautiful, sexy, intelligent, funny, PERFECT girl, except she's from china, after which she would read this post and hate me for the rest of her existance. such is the sadness of my life.

moo-vies

"take me, take me back to your bed
i love you so much that it hurts my head"
degausser - brand new

1 may - spiderman 3
10 may - 28 weeks later, priceless
17 may - blades of glory
24 may - pirates of the caribbean

who wants to go? making out is optional.

ryan gay: the phrophecy comes true

i find that i'm losing interest in girls. i don't really bother looking at pretty girls in school anymore, which is a real big shame due to the sudden influx of pretty girls this semester.

i know because i see quite a number when i actually bother looking around.

i just think, 'they're pretty, so what? how would that affect me?'

it's none of my business.

i enjoy looking at boys now, making fun of their ridiculous dressing and 'style'. the irony is that it's also none of my business.