blog/enigma

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

2:06 AM

As I've said many times, love is a ridiculous concept.
Many of you may have experienced it at one point or the other of your lives. In fact, for much of the population, we fickle people will react to those hormones at least 50% of our waking time. And I think personally, sleeping time too.
Open your MSN - and count how many people lamenting about love: the excess, absence, troubles, hate, irritation and weariness of it. And note how much time in our life we waste on this useless nothingness.
And the funny thing is, most people don't realize love is simply some chemical reactions in our brain coping with procreation. Yes, I know, I'm being immensely unromantic and logical about it, but if you view it in a scientific and practical stance, you know that if you take long enough, you can work out the formula for love with some chemical symbols.
The worst thing, I think, about love is that it clouds one's judgment. No matter how unimpressive that person is, even if he/she/it has the slightest match against your brain's nerves, you go blind. Psychologically speaking. You ignore the flaws and all your mind can think of is how attractive that person is.
And that's not great if it compromises on your life.
Therefore, I cannot guarantee that I will not experience any sort of infatuation in my life, but I swear with my life that if it interferes with my goals, I will go look for some neurologist to hack away at my 'love' part of my brain.
(I've been offering short snippets these few days. No juicy gossip yet, but stay tuned.)

signed, jiasheng

12:29 AM

Thanks Jiehan today for backing me up. I know it's a total weird reason, and it's so out of character for you to say that, and we all know that unless you get a spanner and twist real hard, the timpani's tuning has nothing to do with the meddling, but still. I appreciate such a gesture, because now I know I'm at least in the right light.
But it didn't really had any effect on the two of them. Or maybe everyone of them.
I'm still fuming. Now I'm trying to draft up a contract. If Zhi Tao completes his weekly 2 hours of individuals, 3 hours sectionals, and 2 hours of coaching by me, I grant him my ignorance for everything he does. I'm not going to report him - it'll only give the seniors more chances to display their oh-so-amazing leniency.
But I digress. The main topics of the day - some of the things I learnt today:
1) Never let your mood affect your attitude.
2) Never try to survive a day without sleep and with caffeine.
I'm seriously a zombie now. Totally horrible.
And now I'm afraid to go on MSN because I've developed a crippling fear of trumpets, blue nike shoes, and major posts.
Which is very leading actually, but I don't care.
I'm seriously busted these days. I'm living in intense fear. One day I might just pass out like the character in my composition.
Which, by the way, I think it's excess denied. So if they decide to keep to the word limit, then the story wouldn't make much sense.
Speaking of sense, why does one of the characters always has to die to make the story touching?
Is death really such a paroxysm-inducing event? I bet if I died no one would care. No scratch that, everyone would be rejoicing.
They might even make it a fest.
Oh well. If I'm lucky and you're lucky, maybe I'll (Or someone else) will decide to reveal what happened that developed my phobia( s). Y'know, I can group them into one phobia. L-phobia.
Hmmmmm.
Slack post. Who cares. Tuesdays are slack.

signed, jiasheng

1:30 PM

I'm too lazy to even complete my homework (no doubt it's an all-nighter for me again) so I'll just post my conversation with Zhengyu. It pretty much covers everything.

(After he had ranted his bit of frustration)
ZY are u ready to tell me what happened now/
JS actually, after listening to you, my troubles seem so minor now
ZY do tell. i want to help.


								if not i will feel even more useless
								i will humour you then!
								well, i'm just being strict today.
								i've told zhitao many times not to play other people's or even touch their instrus unnecessarily
								but he hit the timpani for fun. so i told him he owed me twenty
								that's accumulated punishment, btw
								so i heard from huiyao
								and he refused when we were at the old band room
								cause' i'm hardly his senior
								and liang sai sided him
								OH
								wanting me to go to other seniors if that happened
								again
								malaysians are liddat one
								oh myy
								his exact words, "same rank, same year, cannot pump each other"
								wad stupid law is tt la
								i was about to saw i'm not the same rank as zhitao lar
								1stly, in skill, i'm definitely better. 2ndly, in discipline. 3rdly, in actual rank, i'm in the exco also
								not you know that i say that not to be ego or boast
								but when zhitao said, "so what if i played? edwin they all also play" that was the last straw
								i said, "that's why, i don't want you to be the likes of them!"
								then walked out
								wow. that dosen't seem more minor than mine
								in fact it sounds od the same theme
								discipline
								failure of sections
								unhelpfulness of seniors
								now i'm seriously mad not at zhitao, not really at liang sai, but the profound impact on how seniors affect juniors
								attitude of batchmates
								that too
								bah. humbug
								i am oso getting more and more displeased with YiKn
								YiKun
								i'm being sceptical at my seniors' attitude.
								so. i don't know. maybe it is a good thing. propels me to go even further
								go BANDAC
								go bandac
1/27/207								three cheers for it
								hip hip hurray
								hip hip hurray
								hip hip hurray
								but i need to do some serious self reflection and assessment work

Oh, I hope he doesn't mind.
You guys must be (okay, fine, maybe not) wondering what is BANDAC. It's an abbreviation for Bonding And Nurturing Die-hard Anti-(fill in nasty things here that both me and Zhengyu [Zhengyu and I, I mean] hate)ist Community. BANDAC for short. So it can be:
1) Bonding And Nurturing Die-hard Anti-Chanlamist Community.
2) Bonding And Nurturing Die-hard Anti-beingcontradictedist Community.
3) Bonding And Nurturing Die-hard Anti-banddestroyersconsciouslyorotherwiseist Community.
And the list goes on.
But anyway. I met this girl who, according to Zhengyu, is similar in character to me. (he 'introduced' her by giving me her MSN email address)
Which I don't think so, but she's a nice person, and I can talk well with her without having those 'shut up lar preacher' sort of comments so it's totally fine.
Now I'm just wondering if I should call her 'xuann' (which is her msn nickname), or
'duxuan'(which was the name she used on my tagboard) or just keep calling her 'hey, you' (which sounds pretty rude here but actually works on msn)
There, she's talking to me again. She's delightful company.
Yeah, yeah, Jiexuan, laugh at me for all you like.
It's nice to know someone new who wouldn't treat you like an alien, you know.

signed, jiasheng

6:41 AM

What a crazy three days.
On the first I got the worst day of the year yet. The second I got reinstated to chairpersonship. The third. Well the third has band, so it counts too.
But now I don't remember every fine detail, so if I'm in a good mood later I might consider writing it, but right now I am simply amazed by the Chuas.
1) Chua Jie Han
Possibly the most memorable (trust me, he gives the word a whole new meaning) and one of the most driven and passionate person I know. When he first approached me on the UIC post, I thought it was as simple as just helping him with the post. I never knew he had ulterior motives.
All the while, I thought I was the one for psychological manipulation, but he's the real master. And the incredible thing was that he's as good as a leader in any aspect. It's scary. Not scary in the sense that I fear competition (hello! he was the one who introduced me to the EXCO) but scary that even with such a person in band, we still couldn't get our quality up, only maintain it slightly last year.
I didn't know that he knew I would do something for band. Thus bringing me in the EXCO. I suspect that in the first place, it has little to do with UIC post. It has more to do with the entire band.
Dang he's smart. It's like he's secretly coaching me with all those long talks we had with the history of HCIB and discipline. And the comment yesterday on how I'm better at him at psychological warfare - I take it all back. I'm quite sure he doesn't mean the comment about me being better at him also. Research shows most people pay compliments with a motive.
I've been tricked. But I don't mind now. It's marvelous how he used the UIC post to train me up in the 'passion meter'. To say the truth, I was not that enthusiastic then. But through this chance, I had a better outlet.
It was a risky move, Jie Han. But you beat me in the chess of manipulation. I absolutely salute you. It's a pity people like S got the post instead.
Which reminds me, the thing many have to learn from him.
Never disregard or deny passionate juniors who want to do something for the band. When you do, you might lose that fiery flame to the douse of your icy ego.
I know the majors aren't likely to care, but if you want to keep a strong band together, be nice to all of them, on and offstage, not just your clique of friends.
That I have to learn too.
2) Chua Jie Xuan
He's woken up.
Figuratively. I'm glad for him. He has been nice company, but he was absolutely 'passionate to a point'. I think this wake-up call might make him work as hard as he plays. Come to think of it, he can be very useful for the better of the band. I like him as a a friend, but I suppose I like him better as an ally and comrade in this war against ourselves.
I'm still drafting, planning. But I'm further determined that it will come to fruition. After all, it must.

signed, jiasheng

7:00 PM

I feel like writing on Jie Xuan's blog's tagboard:
Name: Mrs. Chan
Link: http://superbitch.blogspot.com (she deserves it)
Message: Jie Xuan, I want to see you first thing on Monday.
And leave no 'haha, joking,' message later. Then I'll get to see Jie Xuan panic and lament, "How? How?" and ultimately cry and come beg me for ideas.
Eh wait. That's not what I want! It's my evil twin! (Seriously, no pun on yours, JX)
Don't worry, if she happens to come to your blog, and you get into trouble, I'll bail you out.
Anyway, she doesn't seem to be the technological tendencies to know what a blog is. I suspect all that she does on the computer is play her piano pieces and the notorious 朋友 over and over again.
And if she really does visit blogs, I want her to read this:
Dear Mrs. Chan,
You must be surprised at the amount of disdain directed to you. Or rather, the complaints you read about you. Unknowingly, you cross the realm of students, where they voice their unhappiness freely, without fearing repercussions.
As I might say, their true opinions, not hypocritical smiles and grins. Really, I think your study of sociology did not help - in fact, it gave you a false sense of confidence. Education is not referring to guidebooks written by barren child psychologists - it is listening to your students and not contradicting your words.
A fine teacher in front of the principal, a subject of hatred in students.
Band is not a medium for you to flare your temper at. In our hearts, you are not being nice to us - only to yourself. The reason why you're doing this - a preservation of face and job. Children like us could see that. Hello, wake up.
Yours, not to insult,
Jiasheng.
I admire Luther's actions yesterday. I liked what he did; protecting his section; letting the blame go to him; speaking out, not back, for his section, even with his position. I'm still apprehensive about his comments earlier, but I am truly impressed by his demeanor yesterday. Well done for that.
What do you guys think of Mrs. Chan?
I think she's a self-contradicting hypocrite. A, sad to say, politically-correct teacher.
Not to mention with a fake accent and a lot of grammar mistakes.

signed, jiasheng

3:36 AM

The Break

Lose what you didn't treasure.
It's only fair.

The chains of friendship do not bind you.
There is no contract.
You are free to leave whenever you want.
Loyalty is no longer an issue
When there was no honesty in the first place.

Yes you cared; the gifts you sent, the time you sacrificed;
The shoulder you lent me to cry on;
The same shoulder that cooled to a freezing berg now.

(Chorus) x2
Off you go, now just go;
Don't even turn back (to see me shed a tear)
Off you go, now just go;
Leave nothing behind (leave me to my fears)

You have no secrets with me;
I've thrown them away.
Were they of importance?
Once.

(Chorus)

Treasure only when you've lost.

Why didn't you tell me so?

signed, jiasheng

8:27 PM

I've been thinking.
(Now those people who frequent my blog would immediately know this is a cue for them to leave as this sentence often prerequisites an over-arching and arduous post involving boring lectures and insipid insights to the deadpan Jiasheng's life.)
So perhaps you can click on the link to leave and read something more interesting, like the number of microbes you can find on a piece of hardened chewing gum sticking to the sidewalk.
What I've been thinking is- no Jiexuan, not another sensual fantasy, no gruff or hoarse voice; something more serious- is how unsuccessful I've been at my life.
If someone were to read about me, I would not protest if that person jabbed at the relatively thin paperback biography and say, "What a fool," and snapped the book shut.
Why, I would have done the same.
It's no longer a matter of how people perceive me. It's more of a self-realization that I, aged thirteen going fourteen, have so far failed in my life.
There are limits to the amount of time which you could breeze through in life and lead an idyllic style of living. The time when you need not worry about under-achieving just because you've rested on your laurels so far. It was not a race of milestones and results, but an enjoyment of the slow crawl of life's pace, akin to riding a carousal, seeing the occasion cotton fluff and lights at the adjacent ride.
I know also how a person can be pushed higher and higher into the Panoramic Tower, powered by his ego, until he crashes and fall to a bone-shattering death. And still, he might still live in his dreams of ferris wheels and sweet popcorn.
When I was a child of maybe five or six, I stared at the bills in my mother's purse earnestly, and my ambition of growing up soon was borne. My eyes tailed the pieces of paper that held so much value - sometimes a Japanese spread of raw fish, otherwise a sleek golden watch with shiny diamonds encrusted on the face.
As I grew, the appeal of adulthood increased beyond money, and in teenhood (which I've just entered), even beyond sex. No, it has more to do with drafting my future, having the freedom to plan and strive to achieve my own utopia, consisting of a mansion in a isolated island, on a cliff, breathing the sea spray and having the ten-thousand square feet place to myself, walking the twisting stairs finished with oak sheen. And perhaps, a tall gate and fences all around it.
Unrealistic as it was, and maybe with a touch of naivety, I still scoured after this lonely old structure that I knew could exist somewhere outside my heart and welcomed me into its dignified solitude.
If there was ever a heaven, I might belong there.
But as I grew, I knew it was unlikely; no, I knew it long ago, just that the notion of such a place kept the dream alive. Responsibilities progressed from shared ones to those which demanded my full attention - I realize one day they might become savage beasts, ripping ideals, goals, creative expressions, freedom, and crucially, the spiritual imaginative mansion I conjured in my mind. It was more than a simple child's ambition - it was a place I had great longing for whenever I saw this world as frightening and dangerous, and as I hid quietly in the calm of the storm, waiting for the stroke of cane that never did come.
I recall my mother several years ago, when she lost her high-salaried job of apparel designing. She sat on the mini-sofa at the corner of our 'sub-living room' tucked away at the side of the main one, away from public eyes prying from the door, in our old flat a few years ago. A pool of papers gathered mysteriously around her, for I saw no paper when she sat there at first. But soon the mystery was solved - my mother, who had always been a neat woman, had sifted through an invisible stack of paper that was camouflaged against the pristine white walls. Then, unexpected, she had in her panic thumbed through documents and scattered them on the desk like dying petals from an autumn season, and with the climatic slamming down of the phone, she lied back, the young pride refusing to offer tears. Yet during that time, when I was only fairly young, I sensed something was terribly wrong in that strong, unrocked figure I saw as the strict disciplinary figure of the house. To put it crudely, my mom wore, and still wears the pants in the house.
As for the rest, I couldn't remember, for I was plunged into a world of brass doorknobs and never-ending corridors that stretch forever into the distance, doors at the side, guarding temporary secrets. I opened one, and inside was a dazzling display of golden framed mirrors, each styled in its own right and polished to unflawed brilliance. I could hardly wait to press my stubby seven-years-old fingers, leaving some sort of mark, but then the door gently closed, and another opened. Inside, some harpsichord music played, and there was nothing else, but a balcony. I wanted to step in - the cool breeze was filtering through the soft texture of the translucent curtains, a shimmering light danced a waltz on the floor - but before I could get in, the door creaked to a close again.
And before I could attempt another door, the stretch of corridor faded away to the deafening silence. The uncomfortable buzz filled my ears with an incessant hiss, irritating and unwanted. I scratched my earlobes.
Drip.
And with that, a tiny circle stained the dark mahogany table to a even darker shade, and despite its minute size, it made quite a distinct mark.
It was about then, that I decided that I wanted to stay as a child.
But I digressed too much.
Is it alright for me to stay blissfully ignorant?
Is it normal to repress growth? I shall postulate not.
I've always thought I was the mature one, never sinking to the low ranks of classmates still conversing deliriously of cup sizes and inexperienced obscene jokes. I felt like a seasoned captain sailing in a sampan - struggling with the other ones, desiring to join my peers in mighty galleys, braving stupendous tempests, but never having the ability in this little junk, flailing with the oars, neither keeping up with the mainstream, nor ever accepted into the veteran field.
Now I have doubts.
All I know now is that I get angry when someone tells me to keep to my limits, and I get depressed when I know there's a chance that's he's right.
Others, I don't know anymore.

signed, jiasheng

10:58 PM

Today is a very disturbing day.
I woke up remembering what someone had said yesterday, and what I've done, and felt the following conflux of emotions:
1) Angry at him being so ignorant
2) Angry at myself for not proving myself
3) Angry at myself for doing something I shouldn't
4) Disillusioned by moral and ethical issues
5) Determined to do something.
(You know, I could have arranged it to form ADADA, but it doesn't make sense. Like you don't go to someone and say, "Hi, I'm feeling ADADA-ish today,")
Well, I am in fact quite confused of what I should do, and what I want to do. I've been asking myself this question all morning when I got here, walking around HCI campus, and I can't get an answer. If I do what I should do, I'll end up like a normal mugger and stay as the same good little boy who's every teachers' pet. If I follow my wishes, things could be way different. But shouldn't we pursue our dreams and ideals? Are we supposed to become mindless smart zombies manufactured here?
And after I've solved that dilemma, I have to think how task-driven I have to be. I know myself to be an extremely task-oriented person - once I want something done, I want it to be done as quickly and well-done as possible. And I can say that I use the lowest of tactics and meanest of attitude to get things efficiently done.
I think I'm using my talents for the wrong things.
Of course, I'll be the first person to tell you I'm not as nice as I appear to be. Every year, I make millions of enemies out of poor innocent citizens. In fact, if there's a list of bad guys, I'm in the range of rapists and murderers to say the least.
Wait. I don't rape or murder people, if you thought that.
Anyway, I was being depressed in the morning (I hate to admit it, but I was also sort of continuing my act) and I asked Huiyao and Zhengyu,
"Should emotional baggage be allowed to hamper personal goals?"
Zhengyu said yes. Huiyao gave me a blank look and said he didn't know what I was talking about.
L was there this morning.
I had double maths, which totally irks me because the syllabus are starting to get difficult. I got back my first assignment. B.
Not too bad. Considering the fact that I'm the HCI Technical Idiot, that is.
Anyway, assembly was another useless struggle between deciding to sleep and risk getting caught, or deciding to stay awake and risk getting into a comatose state due to extended boredom exposure. (Is there a difference?)
Clarinda Choh contradicts herself. She rectified our oratorical prowess (not that I heard any) and told us not to commit unnecessary redundancies (she did admit at this mistake, but still) and phrases like "as I've mentioned", "as I've said," and other similar phrases should not be used as it suggests stupidity of the listener and their short attention span.
Immediately after she said that, she remarked, "Like I've said, you people should reduce these unnecessary redundancies," (which marks two 'errors' she pointed out)
Speaking of the stupidity of certain listeners, Steven Su certainly qualifies as one. In fact, in my mean words, "He's as stupid as he looks,"
And the hilarious thing was one of his own colleagues bombarded him a query and he couldn't answer and he had to ask repeatedly what was the question.
And his lame excuse was he was new at this topic and therefore is unfamiliar with actual proceedings.
Note-to-self: To avoid such situations happening to myself, I shall over-prepare every time I do a presentation.
I think I shall skip the I.S. lesson in order to maintain the interesting qualities of this blog. In the interest of my readers, I shall not bore you into a irreversible state of cerebral deficiency.
I think the highlight of the day was more of after school. Remember when I said I'm depressed? Well. After school I'm not. I went to the band room, only to find someone had locked it. Bu Fan and Lionel said the SALT centre's locked too. So we can't access the instruments.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Anyway, I didn't know what came over myself. I became very randomistic today. When Jie Xuan, Zhengyu, Keith and I was walking back from poolside, I just said hi to everyone. And there were a group of girls in front of us, I just said 'hi!'
And they 'hied' back. And we said bye later. That was very cute of them. As in, when a chorus of people say 'bye', especially girls, it's very cute.
Really. And I'm not even going into their appearance yet. *Grins*
Oh one more thing. That gang I mentioned just now, I found out that they are extremely shy, and that includes Jie Xuan. That indeed surprised me, because I always thought Jie Xuan was like my exact opposite - the introvert/cynic/niaoer versus the extrovert/optimist/grinner. And the introvert refers to my normal self, by the way. Really, when I said hi, Jie Xuan and the rest of them were like running away and disassociating me from them. When I caught up, Jie Xuan's face was like red. And imagine his tanned face reddening. It's like his brother drinking cocktail.
Anyway, that would probably prove that he's straight. (I always had some doubt.) Along with the rest of them (Oh no that means I'm gay right?) *panics and dies*
This 'say hi to every random person you meet' campaign continued to include Year 1 to 4s, teachers, NY, MG, boarding school, SJC, HJC, cleaning workers, parents, et cetera et cetera.
Most of the response I got was plain denial. Others include:
1) Sincere hi-back
2) Insincere 'yeah, hi, how are you, go and die,"
3) Middle finger and vulgarities.
4) Sincere smile
5) Cute chorusy hi-s
6) Embarrassed wave
7) 'I-do-not-know-you-and-I-do-not-know-why-you're-not-locked-up-and-bound-by-chains' look
And every time I say hi my gang just ducks away like I'm a freak of a nature.
Well, it's basic courtesy isn't it!
I hate this. It's like everyone is so isolated from each other.
And Zhengyu keeps pulling me back and asking me if there's something wrong with me today. There isn't. Just that I planned my suicide and I'm saying hi to everyone I know before I die, I make at least an impression. Now where's that penknife...?
Anyway, we saw this sec.4/JC person who looks a lot like Jie Xuan. Jie Xuan claims that he looks exactly like him, but I just saw his specs, so I thought it was just that single resemblance.
Anyway. You people keep a lookout for a person who looks like Jie Xuan okay? With his distinct white and black specs. Several theories on this:
1) Jie Xuan saw his future self.
2) Jie Xuan saw his biological dad.
3) Jie Xuan saw wrongly.
I've read Jie Xuan's blog. He said that it's probably the best day of the year yet. It's only 16/1/07... you have a long way to go...
Still. I had fun too.
You know those fantasy novels where you discover a once-in-a-lifetime portal to some unknown universe and you have to get out as soon as possible and when you do, and as you watch the portal disappear, a sense of forlornness overwhelms you?
Well. Take it that Jiasheng probably wouldn't be so random again.
Other random things I've done:
1) Found a rock and painted it with my name on one side, and 'vermin repeller' on the other. It's supposed to be medieval namecard.
2) Attracted a bunch of kois in the pond.
3) Wrote "I AM DAOED" on my arm.
4) Talking trash
Oh yes, Keith sent something to Crystal on my phone. Thereby resulting in Jie Xuan's constant niaoing.
Ah. The vicissitudes of HCI life.
(That was just for making you guys zibei xD)

signed, jiasheng

8:03 PM

I just realized what a gigantic mistake I made yesterday.
And yes, I shall start from yesterday, so you people wouldn't give me dirty looks, leaving you to imagine what on earth happened yesterday. Okay, here goes:
She lay quietly on the bed, her breath hoarse and gruff. Slowly, she slipped out of her gorilla suit, and her hair fell on her shoulders, luxuriously glorious. She beckoned naughtily, lips smacking-
WAIT. Wrong story. This is supposed to be a G-rated blog!
Anyway, Zhengyu was like panicking and telling me Da Xian's committing suicide or something like that. So I got panicked along with him and he begged me to go cheer him up or something like that.
It's kind of ridiculous actually, because:
1) Da Xian is one of the last people I would know to go commit suicide.
2) I don't know him personally and I doubt he knows my name.
3) Zhengyu has anxiety disorders.
4) I'm not in the mood myself.
Anyway, he told me that he had to log off so he just left me like that, deciding whether to be a normal person and try to go and sleep, or be deranged and try to counsel someone 3 years older than me and most probably get struck by obscenities. Now dear reader, which would I choose?
The deranged one of course. Firstly, I'm by no means normal. Secondly, if I chose the normal option, there's no more story to be told. Thirdly, such a kind and understanding person by nature cannot just ignore an individual in distress, even though that "individual in distress" tends to shout at his juniors a lot and is so cool that he can substitute for the Raffles statue.
Anyway, I sent a series of smses to him, employing my usual tactics for cheering someone up. Act real stupid and retarded, and shoot something serious in the middle of the conversation, so he wouldn't give up on me yet and will at least consider my views.
This time, I'm an alien with a farting partner in a cramped spaceship, having traveled 30 lightyears by the request of his friend to cheer him up.
One thing I learned from this experience - never ever give your name when you're making someone older feel better. Once I did, he started giving ME advice!
Oh well.
And the nerve of him to just breeze past me today! He doesn't even acknowledge my presence!
1) He probably doesn't know me.
2) He thought the person yesterday was amusing and never thought Jiasheng is that entertaining.
3) He's blind and deaf and mute. (The mute part I suspect a lot. Except when he's yelling.)
Okay, fine, by right I shouldn't be that angry at him, but that's after I realized my big mistake.
I cleared up the vermin's dirty work.
I helped that thing.
Gosh, the idiocy of it all! I hate I hate I hate myself.
And the worst thing? They are best friends since Year 1.
It's the exact dilemma I have with Jie Xuan.
Am I destined to cross paths with rats? I'm referring to the vermin of course.
Nonetheless, I'm still exhilarated that I could help Da Xian, even though I played practically no part in it. He settled his own problems.
In fact, I think he's kind of nice.
(Well at least he can match my blogging capacity.)
(Ignoring the fact that he once called selecting a Sec. 1 as an EXCO member 'crazy', clearly underestimating me.)
But never mind. I'm sure I'll cease to exist in his world soon, so I'll look forward to that day.
After all, I'm better off forgotten.

signed, jiasheng

5:14 AM

Never ever judge a book by its cover.
Because for every cool unfeeling face,
There lies a fragile heart,
Hiding beneath the icy stares,
The warm trickling tears still flow.

Never judge a book by its cover.
For one day you might stumble across
A secret identity you never knew existed.
It might contradict all sense of knowledge,
For we can only know that much.

Never judge a book by its cover.
Next time you see a face in the looking glass,
Peer closely.
Is this the real image of you?
Or are you made of different elements altogether?
Is this just a mask?
When you walk on the streets, do you see thousands of actors
Wearing the same mask?

Never judge a book by its cover.
I used to think that Da Xian was this cold 'cool' person, but I think everyone has a face to show others. I'm beginning to suspect no one is as he/she seems. I don't see my classmate, Danny, crying over the loss of his father. And how many times do I want to say something and bite my lip, stopping myself for eternity, afraid that what I say will spoil the relationship?
Hey everyone. Try to take off those masks, alright? Those can be stifling.
Breathe free, and breathe easy. Don't choke yourself on the pretense of a cool image.
Show what you really are, please.

signed, jiasheng

11:47 PM

Here you go, it's finally done. After much procrastination and deliberation, I can safely saw it's quite alright, seeing the atrocious word limit of 700. It's my greatest limitation. I can of course go on and on, but I kept contemplating on suicide when I checked my word count, deleting wonderful words and glorious phrases. In the end, I end up with exactly 700 words. Trust me, the essay wasn't hard, it was the editing that is.
So here you go, after two hours:

Commonwealth Essay Competition

Describe a place's atmosphere and describe why it is so special to you.

It's five-fifty in the morning. The sky is still an inky black, as I punch in the code that locked me out from the old band room. The handle no longer works – it hangs limply, its spring rusted to the ages. I grabbed it with a hard pull and the door swung open, hinges creaking like a church gate.

I stepped into this decrepit room, its familiar musty smell overwhelming me. Everything was still pitch dark, the rough shapes of the instrument cases a shade darker in the gloom. I clicked the switch, but after a blinding flash, most of them flickered and went off, leaving one single panel of illumination casting light, out of the total twelve, just enough to brighten the corners of this cramped area.

I strolled across the dusty carpet, maneuvering across the maze of instruments, rather sloppily stacked in unorganized piles. Sitting down on my instrument case, as there was no space for chairs, I promptly stared at this room, wondering why I awake so early in the morning to be in this smelly, crumbling room. I looked around, truly scrutinizing the place for the first time. The walls, once gleaming white, had now dulled into a sullied grey. It had unsightly cracks, and in some places, patches missing, from the numerous soccer matches held informally, with balls slamming into them, along with raucous cheers. Band members took no notice of how small this room actually was. In fact, so did I. To me, this place was infinitely huge, spacious enough to hold even the largest of heart and strongest of passion. In a way, it was a silent observer, observing our laughter and tears. It experienced band practices, war fights and pizza parties.

I couldn't forget the day when I saw this room when I first joined the band. My eyes of arrogance immediately slighted the room, scanning the lint-covered windows with utmost distaste, staring daggers at the fraying, scruffy coating on the floor they call a carpet, wiping a finger across the window panes and flicking about the sooty particles in repulse. Slowly, yet definitely, my attitude changed, as I found myself increasingly attached to the band, and thus, this band room. I never knew myself capable of such commitments, but I recall the hours I spent long hours after practice was over, with everyone gone, having a seat on one of the cases, beginning a battle against an onslaught of vicious slurs and sharps, and that was when I realize, doubtlessly, band became my bloodline – I was part of it, and now it has gently obtained a place in my heart.

What had changed? From the cool, distant Year 1 student, I progressed through the quotidian practices, sometimes cursing silently at the complicated rhythms, sometimes beaming at accomplishing a difficult passage. I no longer regarded this band room as a place inviting criticism, but a sanctuary in times of turmoil. After all, how many times have I lain beside the window, squeezed beside a trombone case, watching the swift staccatos of rain fall, knowing I’m truly safe in this place of peace? And how can I count the occasions when I walk in and find true friends waiting for my presence?

This place has not changed – not for the better, anyway. The door's paint job had peeled off to reveal a color popular maybe eons ago; new cracks appear; a pool of dried up paint lay conspicuously in a corner, spilt by accident. The odor of emptied saliva, sweat, silver polish and vault oil still hung heavily in the air, but no longer was it oppressive, but familiar and irreplaceable, not unlike the first few rays of sunlight. The air-conditioner still chokes up sometimes, and even though the thermostat reads 16 degrees Celsius, unexplainable warmth flowed through me, comfortable and homely.

Why compelled me to wake up so early to be in this place, smelly and crumbling? I pushed back the curtains, and saw dawn was breaking, the magnificent sun shining virgin splendor, filling the room with a brilliant golden.

I think I've gotten my answer.

Not bad, eh? I think I still can edit it a bit, but for now it will remain as it is. Hey guys - don't plagiarize! Nights!

Postscript: 4th post today! I must put an ad in the papers quickly, requesting for a life.

signed, jiasheng

5:16 PM

Just some random stuff:
1)I'm participating in Commonwealth Essay. As normal, I'm writing about the old band room. I'll post it up when I finish.
2)Qifan is like saying 'Hi, Jiasheng," every time he sees me in this bright cheery voice and I'll suspect if he's gay or something. Well. Hmmmm. I'm thinking way too much. Hey hey. Don't stop saying that. It's kind of nice. But he keeps wearing this gray jacket which looks kind of cute and has some fabulous folds I've been wanting to draw.
3) The nolink statement of the day for yesterday was '"Sunrise" is warm up. "Sun" is warm and "rise" is up.'
4) Nolink Statement of the Day (13/1): 'Lippy is not gay.'
5)Speaking of him, he gets to keep his job because of me. I wouldn't say why, but it's just it.
6)Weiyang's finally out of of orientation. Well, so is the vermin, but you have to take the good with the bad.
7)I'm reading "Thirteen Steps Down", the Year 3 book, so teachers are starting to give me the 'Sec-3-still-so-short' look in corridors.
8)Changing my 3rdlang lesson so I wouldn't miss Monday's practices.
9) Deciding on changing Ashflare. That darn cat is hard to draw.
10) Boo! Stayed back till about 10.30 yesterday.

signed, jiasheng

4:40 PM

Just read my cbox and found a series of spamming. I had no idea that he's sick. So I guess it does give him an excuse for spamming. But not before typing every view he has on the cbox. Apparently he still thinks I'm being too quiet about stopping him and I shouldn't really have ignored him for the week and now that he's guilty and apologized, even though when he said he wouldn't, I should really say sorry too, seeing his sorry state.
So it led me to assuming that it was entirely my fault that I stupidly brought my maths homework, stupidly do them in his presence, stupidly thinking it's his fault for telling me, stupidly ignored him, stupidly being evil and insensitive, stupidly posting it on my blog that he's really a dog with a human skin suit and you'll find a zipper along his back.
I also assume that it's more suitable to think that he's been such a fine friend in helping a weak, poor student in distress and therefore needed assistance, and I should have glorified his godlike attempt to help me in this debacle and therefore, worship him like a god, instead of 'flaming' him and making him feel unappreciated.
What shall I do? Sincerely apologize? I don't see how I am going to do that.
Sorry Zhengyu for being such a jerk. You are so kind.
Sorry Zhengyu for being in a negative mode for a couple of days because you helped out in my maths assignment, however unsolicited.
Sorry Zhengyu for giving you the cold shoulder, because I know you don't deserve it and you're better off listening to mp3s.
Get what I mean?

signed, jiasheng

3:24 PM

Where was I? Oh, from last time, when I was relating about my bad streak. As I was saying, I was going home with Zhengyu, was managed to annoy me so I slept through the bus journey, conveniently ignoring him for most of the journey, while he gave up on his attempt to get back in my good books.
He doesn't even want to try, does he.
Anyway, still being the very nice person I am, I returned the favour and brought him to the Toa Payoh station. Don't get it wrong - I'm still fuming about the Maths homework, but since he took the incentive to accompany me back home (not that I needed his company, not that he made any moves to be forgiven, not that I assume listening to mp3s while I dozed off on the bus can be counted as an act of plea) I might as well tell him how to get home, just in case he decides to stalk me home and slaughter everyone there.
Anyway, I was still feeling a bit blue and resolved to chase them away. Can you name any better way to do just that that shopping? (Actually, I can: getting straight As, surrounded by the entire collection of books mankind had every written and all the time in the world, my wish coming true, seeing Zhi Hao get caught in an attempt to molest an ape by mistake, et cetra, et cetra) Nonetheless, being a shopaholic and a nerdy bookworm, Popular is the way to go.
If any of you get the wrong idea, I think shopping for a guy is perfectly justified. I mean, I bet none of you had every spent 5 hours just exploring every shop in J8.
Back to the point, I decided to get some fabulous art supplies, so I got myself some section paper(it's like graph paper, only the squares are bigger and more suitable for plotting and drafting) , a bendable rule (perfect for drawing curves without french curves) and a template for drawing circles (for the quick head and eye drawing guide).
Then I headed to the library and scanned for several books. After some scrutiny, I've selected by usual 3 and proceeded to book them out.
By the way, for those who don't know, I always only borrow 3 books. It's a habit I can't quit. And usually it follows the following:
1st book- an adult novel discussing emotional state or turmoil / a classic / book I've wanted to read (eg. Solace, The Five People You Meet In Heaven, Sophie's World)
2nd book - an entertaining novel, written mostly for teenages, about teen angst and contains juicy gossip and risible situations those stupid characters get themselves into (eg. The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole (and following series), Confessions of A Teenage Drama Queen)
3rd book - an random book I've picked out from the 'Just Returned Section', usually a thriller.
When I return home, reading Notes from the Underbelly (which goes under the entertaining section) I fell quite dead on my bed, exhausted.
When I awoke the next morning, I frantically checked my watch - 3.05. I have plenty of undone homework. Rats. Thus, I pulled myself out of bed, and did a sloppy job. Oh well. It's all it takes to spoil my Teacher's Pet image, isn't it. Then, hungry from not having dinner last night, I went to the fridge to poke about - nothing. Then I spotted some wrapped fishcake and took it out, heating it in the microwave.
I was feeling rather sorry for myself when I took the heated 'food' out (they look pretty unappetizing to say the least) and cut them into bite-size pieces. Then I pushed them about my plate, hoping the arrangement would magically turn these strips of squished cooked fish flesh into something like sashimi.
Bro asked me for some. I half-delightedly gave it to him, because they taste so disgusting. Oh well. What can you expect from something like this. Seriously, I felt like eating rubber flavoured with fish sauce.
As you can see, my negative mood was slowly turning worse.
At that point in time, Mum woke up and demanded why Bro and I was already up this early. When she asked me if I had had breakfast, I was forced to admit I ate fishcake for breakfast. Expecting a pitying look, then a warm, inviting smile saying, "I'll cook some bacon and eggs," I waited for the smile, but all that came was, "Fishcake was for lunch. Now that you've eaten it, you should probably get going,"
Now, all of you shouldn't get the impression that my mum's this evil stepmother who make me do child labour. But that's what I felt just then. Mistreated. Exploited. Used. Under-appreciated.
Anyway, instead of a 'goodbye', she commented under her breath, "These boys aren't normal to wake up so early in the morning,"
In my household, everyone's so grumpy in the morning.
Anyway, I headed for school, and found that I couldn't play a single thing. Seriously, I can't play anything. I stared my instrument in horror, trying to understand what has happened, but all I got was a cool reflection of my livid face.
I almost died that morning.
Oh, it was raining, so there was no flag-raising. The majors told us that we still have to do the warmup exercises, effectively making me do the exercises 3 times a day. Once during my daily warmup, once during the combined warmup, and another during formal practice.
And they also informed us that the teachers are going to leave at 4.30. Because they have a life. That got me boiling. So that implies the following:
1) We don't have a life.
2) Whatever crap Chan told us about devoting herself to the band, was, like everything else she said. Crap not acted upon.
3) The majors could have told us in a more formalized and less impacting way than saying straight out that we don't have the teachers' support. Now all of us know that we have such teachers - would we listen seriously to them anymore?
Up stormed me to the classrooms.
I was in such a critical and negative mood that during double maths, Mrs. Khoo was tell us about some lame situation in which involves aunties and kids.
I promptly replied, "Aren't you an auntie too?"
She gaped at me. Well, who told her to remind me of yesterday's maths homework. And she deserved it, talking about extraneous events. Her lessons are getting too boring - I find myself and Ruijin doing all her homework while she taught all that we already know.
Anyway, the rest of the day was just as bad. I was being plain mean and unforgiving to everyone I met. Even Jie Xuan didn't dare to look for me (he invited me to Accent, but I blew him off). Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. Jie Xuan's never shy to look for me. In fact, I think he has contracted the 'Call-Jiasheng' virus too.
I have 3rd Language, so after class I went to the Bishan with Jun Jie. It's raining cats and dogs. Actually, seeing the heavy rain, I think Doberman and German Shepherds would be a more suitable description. We went for lunch, and I slipped and fell. Just as a crowd of girls were moving out.
Fine. I don't really mind their raucous laughter afterwards, just the aching pain in my butt.
Even though I revised my work, I still couldn't answer the teacher's question. I was staring at the screen, trying to understand what Sensei was trying to ask me, but my mind just went blank. She gave me that sort of look you give to orphans on the streets with some of their limbs sawed off, and gave me a clue. I quickly answered and sat down afterwards. The disgusting thing was that I was the best boy in my class last year - this year, there are seemingly more people better in Japanese than me.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
I was so mean afterwards that I asked Jun Jie, "Do you have ANYTHING stationery that's not scented?" because almost everything in his pencil box is dabbed in either lavender, strawberry or some other intoxicating smell. Just because he was kind enough to lend me his scented green pen (green apple).
When lesson ended with me feeling like an utter fool and a person of questionable character.
It was raining even heavily than ever, so I walked the long stretch of unsheltered road to J8, forgetting the file I'm holding and the lovely inking job I've done to decorate my file slowly coming off, leaving a wordless smudge and blackish soluble paint coming onto my sleeve.
Not to mention, my new unused section paper getting drenched and crinkly afterwards.
I was practically in tears when I got home, only I couldn't really tell, with rainwater dripping insanely down my lashes, and my eyes squeezing tight shut when they got into my eyes.
Jiasheng's having a bad day.
On a happier note, Friday was a happier day.
You know, I could have written this post better, but today's Saturday and I'm not in that mood anymore, so forgive me. But I'm glad I'm happy. The reasons why I've not looked some of my friends up to cheer me up:
1) Too tired.
2) Zhengyu's the cause of it all (he read my previous post and apologized. I'm still thinking about his apology)
3) Jiexuan's busy with some other stuff.
4) Weiyang would probably say something like, "Oh, Jiasheng, I hope you're happy," (Which was, by the way, what exactly he smsed me on Thursday)
So Jiasheng's back in action. And trying to get back on track!
I've drawn quite nice design poster for the first issue. Hopefully by the end of next week, I'll be able to finish redrawing the first issue.
Ciao.

signed, jiasheng

4:18 AM

I am officially in a negative mood now. Full, blown-out cynical, pessimistic, negative, bad mood. I think you guys should know that before reading, so in the course of this entry that you get offended, I don't have to apologize, because I'm so not in the mood to do that now. This whole thing started on Wednesday:
There was supposed to be sectionals, but when I went to the band room, with some uniforms in hand, I found that the door is locked shut. When I questioned Yong Jie, he said that he haven't called Mrs. Chan yet.
Wait - sectionals and it didn't occur to you that we need the band room to be open? Maybe he thought that band members were really X-men in disguise and anyone of us could phase right through the door/ blast it open with optic lasers/ melt into water and seep through and reform and therefore do not require any keys. Well, sorry to inform you, but the band possesses no such talent. However, waste more of our time like that, and we're definitely capable of homicide.
Since the door is locked and I can't do anything, I decided to go eat lunch with Zhengyu, Edwin and some other members, when things got really worse.
As I had a lot of homework that day, and being the usual hardworking person I am, I brought my maths assignment along to go with the main course. It's definitely disgusting if any chicken crisp or oily rice happened to fall onto the paper, but hey, it's maths, so who cares. On a sidenote, I find the maths assignments getting easier and easier - it's totally surprising. And from me, the technical idiot, that's something to be marveled at. And this maths assignment is such a piece of crap that I don't feel like doing it.
I'm supposed to do some expansion in algebra and match the letters to form a sentence, which is the answer to the riddle, "What did they call a man who died from Shellac?" or something along these lines.
And while I was taking my time doing the sums, Zhengyu decided to peer at my work, being the nosy parker he's not, usually. So in between gulps, I wrote out one sum after the other neatly, albeit a little scrawly, on a foolscape.
That's when his nosiness got to a whole new level. When I was pondering if 4 times 5 is 45 (technical idiot, remember?) he told me, "20x squared,"
Ignoring him, because I believe in the Hwa Chong values of critical and independent learning, I continued working. Perhaps that gave him encouragement, so he went on and told me the whole answer. Now he's getting too far. I mean, there's no excuse for being a close friend of mine - he should know well by now that I hate people just giving me answers. I find no joy in that. Vice versa; I find giving people answers a complete idiocy to their learning processes. That's why if you ask me a question that I know you can do, I'll never give it directly, but lead you to the question.
Anyway, I told him off in the face, though a little too casually, "If you want to help me, then help me with the whole worksheet," and I almost wanted to offer my pen to him. He would refuse, of course.
So I got to work in peace again, until I started lamenting why I'm doing this P1 work. I mean, filling in alphabets is simply a lack of creative expression. Why does no one design a worksheet that asks for more?
And so, being the lousy maths student, I said, "I don't want to do this. This is beneath me,"
And thus, the know-it-all, Straight-A1s, first-in-class student practically snatched the worksheet from me and told me, "He had a lovely finish; that's the answer, now fill it in."
How rude is that? I can ignore the snatching part, but telling me the answer straight out - it's like telling me how and when I'm going to die, wearing what clothes.
At that point, I got back my worksheet, and to his utmost surprise, I continued working on the questions. Talk about insensitive people. I mean, I get called insensitive by people all the time, but this? I got to start hating more people. I've been way too nice.
And thus, out of childish spite, he started chanting, "He had a lovely finish, he had a lovely finish, " and I gave him the 'Jiasheng-is-exasperated" look and that stubborn pig refuses to budge in his opinion. Just because you're right in every single maths question and you are the teachers' darling doggy slave doesn't mean you're right in everything. Obviously you have much to learn in sociology and Jiashengism. The Jible states that telling answers are a no-no.
I thought that if I screamed at him to shut up then and there, it would be pretty satisfying. But no, I was still being nice, so I didn't. Then he started giving me the bad attitude. No, now I'm not nice. You're getting the cold shoulder, porky.
Ugh. All the while Edwin comments that our relationship (Zhengyu and mine) is similar to that of his and Lionel. (?) -- a friendship rocked by quarrels, but friends all the same. My foot. He's never going to eat lunch with me again when I have homework issues.
I hate it. So when I got back to the band room, in a pretty foul mood, I found that Mrs. Chan has conveniently stuck a note to the door, informing us that the band room will not be open and sectionals is cancelled.
So I spent the rest of the afternoon in the old band room, where I played some crappy songs with a bunch of them. To my horror I've forgotten a lot of my notes. Great. Now I feel inferior and crappy.
I hate my life.
Having had spent last night typing out notes, I took a nap on the floor. When I awoke, it was about 5 . Zhengyu was seemingly apologetic (I gave him the cold shoulder already) and he accompanied me on the bus. No that I want accompany, but our friend thinks that he should be nice and squeeze beside me on the bus, which somehow might make me feel better (no). Thus, I slept half the journey and left him being bored and listening to his mp3.
Dumb, dumb.
Wait. I'll stop here for the time being. I have to run for school. It's like 5 o' clock in the morning now. I'll tell you more about my bad mood later. Hopefully friday is a good day.
-p.s. I wanted to finish off a post, but I'm in a bad mood, so you wouldn't get to see the tuesdays with jiasheng parody satire until later.

signed, jiasheng

11:20 PM

I've just spent 3 hours straight reading Tuesdays with Morrie and The Five People You Meet In Heaven
I think that people like me ought to be decried. Seeing the exorbitant price tag, I've decided to deprive Popular of its profits and finish the two books by quick skimming and summary.
That took three hours. My reading skill's getting slow.
Seriously, people like me are spoiling the literary market.
Anyway, I think I'll leave the inspiration for tomorrow perhaps. Too tired now. I'll update you guys tomorrow.

signed, jiasheng

12:38 AM

Everyone has different labels people recognize them with and identities they like to show others.
Currently, to my classmates, I'm proud, stuck-up, sissy, anti-social, odd-one-out.
To most of my friends, I'm insensitive, erratic, strange, pedantic.
To my family, I'm funny, clumsy, stubborn, headstrong and a smart-alec.
To my seniors, I'm anti-social, cynical, different, rude, over-confident, in short, the perfect nightmarish junior.
To myself, I think I'm just one of a kind.
What about you?

Right. I thought I could get away from blogging by offering this delightful, deeply philosophical, thought-provoking snippet.
Anyway, I've been slacking away rather matter-of-factly, acknowledging that sloth is human nature and entertainment is a must for survival. Therefore, I've stuck my eyeballs to the computer screen with super glue and watched Bleach till the 2nd arc, where it ended for now. The third arc is coming out soon.
Meanwhile, between commercial breaks, I've chatted with Jie Xuan and decided that our clique shall be named "No link Clique", as reference to his complete lack of logic.
Our motto, which was thought up by me, is "The elephants in the hot cross bun are pink."
That's a vacuous truth for you.
Our vision, also kindly offered by me, as follows, "To provide death to linkers and nolinkers alike,"
As you can conclude, this clique lives up to its name. And our clique members include Jie Xuan, Zhengyu, I, and some other unknown. Huiyao is most probably in. Clique members are required to put the clique display picture up.
Which is depicts a monkey, our mascot (the missing link)
Our clique welcomes nolinkers to join, at the cost of 3 cows and 7 sheep.
And obviously, the criteria is simple - you must be a nolinker. Nolinkers are defined as people with no link. That will include dogs in milk saucers, bipedal aliens with ocular hair and butts with wings.
(The above is a result of a thousand years of nolinking training)
Anyway, besides this madness, I've also been thinking a lot about the grand scheme.
It's still an immensely vague idea. I'm not too sure whether it would work out or not.
Liuzhen seems to be extremely annoyed with me for implying that he's not doing a good job as DM (not that I actually did that - I was merely asking him about the band's prospects)
So. It shall commence. I will start prephase actions, no matter what.
I was going to stop right here, but then I saw Zhengyu's spamming on my cbox.
Why does everyone assume that XXX must be him ar?
It can be Doraemon, or Superman for all I care.
Also, why does everyone assume I'm like this weak insecure person who crumbles without support? I mean, this is Jiasheng you're talking about here! The one who built the Leaning Tower of Pisa!
Oh wait. This fib didn't come out right.
Anyway, that's dumb. Stop assuming that I can't live without him okay? He's just him. Right.
See? I've convinced myself.
So you should too. Stop the prefixes "darling" and the suffixes "honey" thank you very much.
this is making me sound so gay. x|

signed, jiasheng

4:10 AM

I know why you're here.
Last night, you suddenly recall there is such a person you know call Jiasheng who's a brilliant blogger on hiatus. (No, really, it's really unnecessary to vomit all over your keyboard). You remember him blogging about being lazy but you decided to try your luck and risk your life (because of his brilliance) to try to read my blog.
I know why I'm here.
Last night, I had this dream about a fiery dragon who has a curious symbol on his head that resembles the letters 'ZY'. He growls and says, "YOU HAVEN'T BEEN UPDATING YOUR BLOG! LISSED YOUR SAME MATIRE!"(I'm sure he meant to say "missed your lame satire", but pardon the dragon. They tend to speak with spoonerisms.) And he was about to squash me flat when I woke up. Or perhaps I died on the spot and woke up. In either case, it doesn't matter, since the point is that I'm supposed to blog, right?
So that's why I'm here.
Are you going to continue to read? If you are, then I'm ready to blog some more. Otherwise, go to the red X on the corner of your screen. Or press Alt-F4.
Since it's a new year, I should start afresh, ignoring all the stuff I've missed out during my gigantic break from blogging. So it just happens that it's the orientation yesterday, so I think we have to commence from there. Or, more specifically, from Thursday.
I must be truthful and say that the orientation was really rushed. Firstly, we were so busy preparing for the concert, SYF and march-in that we completely had no plan what to do for the orientation. Ironic isn't it- to think that the orientation is more important than the other three events, seeing that the new batch of Year 1 students has the potential to reform the band from their batch.
More on that later. What actually happened was that on Thursday morning(note that the orientation is on Friday afternoon), Edwin got some people (Year 2) to help with the preparation work as they have afternoon lessons so they are unavailable. Nonetheless, he employed the help of the 'Xuan Clique' (whose members are namely: Jie Xuan, Hui Yao, Zhengyu, I, etc) and some other individuals who have the capabilities to spare their afternoon.
So at 1.30, I bailed out of the classroom and started work. Actually it was pretty easy work - just photocopy some documents, prepare some materials, and POOF! we're done. We have to photocopy 15 posters, 150 sets of booklets, buy a vanguard sheet, get some silver markers. Edwin told me to get some black paint originally, but I found the old banner. (If you must know, we didn't use the banner anyway)
So we shuttled from HCI to Coro (actually, I don't see why 4 people have to go at once. No, 5, if you count Qi Fan) to photocopy and went for lunch. After lunch, we collected the stuff. Jie Xuan told me to check, but I conveniently said that if we had a few sets missing, we'll just print at school. In foresight, I realize it was a big mistake. But then, all I cared was to finish one work and go to another.
Moral of the story: Always listen to Jie Xuan.
(When he's right.)
(When he's not on hugging spree.)
Actually, it should be 'Thou shalt listen to goodth advice when necessary."
But as Jovina said, this is a blog, not a thesis (why do I get the feeling that it resembles more like one?)
Anyway, I told them to go fold the 150 booklets first, while I get the markers and such. After obtaining them from a stationery shop, it was back to school. I was at the gate when Zhengyu and Jie Xuan turned up there too - they got off at the wrong stop.
+(When he gets off at the right stop)
So, we started folding, and I remembered about the black paint, so, in a moment of pure idiocy and stupidity, I went to the school bookshop, and asked point-blank:
"Auntie, do you sell black paint?"
She looked at me like I was going to use the paint to splash on the Principal's Office and laugh diabolically paint the Discipline Master's face like a zebra.
So after much contemplation, she flatly said, "No, we don't sell black paint here,"
I could have swore she called the Principal later. Paranoid.
The funny thing was I saw the Principal hobble towards the bookshop later.
Oh no... could it be that the bookshop auntie actually has some sort of illicit affair with the Principal? I know there's a little room at the back of the bookshop...
-terminates sick thought-
As I was saying, they didn't have black paint, so we moved to the new band room to continue to work. I got a paper cut! I shall never fold a paper again (I folded another one for art today, so you can see my words never count). Huiyao decided to talk about Bryan from his class while blood gushed out like a waterfall, spraying the band room in a deadly crimson, so while they were happily chatting, I was staggering like a drunk trying to control the wound's bleeding.
Nah. There wasn't even blood.
Then we found out that we were short of 46 copies. So. it was another trip to Coro. I was running quite late for 3rd Language - it's my first lesson of the year - so I decided to take a bus straight from there. The rest is done anyway, and I'm sure the XC can handle it.
Happens that I was too exhausted from the mad rush and I fell asleep on 156 and ended up in Clementi.
So much for brilliant blogger Lin Jiasheng.
So I decided to take the Clementi MRT and travel to Bishan.
I was 30 minutes late.
Nonetheless, my teacher's Chia sensei (WHY WHY must she have the same surname as that vermin WHY) and as far as I can see, she's pretty nice. Must be unrelated.
The orientation day - they informed us on the day itself what pieces to play. You must think that the band is so professional - we can play any piece, right? Left. I mean, wrong. The tempo and rhythm was obviously so off that Mr. Lim suffered a PMS again.
Well. Also, Bob came.
Why must he come? I mean, didn't he leave 2 years ago? Why is he back?
Then again, why am I so hostile? Maybe it was bad experience with people in long pants.
He reminds me of Kun Won. Not that Kun Won is bad.
But anyway, the Euphonium section was finally full-strength today.
Bob, Jiunn Lin, Weiqi, Jing Hao, Zhi Tao, I
In no order of merit.
In order of merit:
Weiqi, Jiunn Lin, Bob, I, Jing Hao, Zhi Tao
Hmmm. Shall think about it.
Anyway, the end result was: 38 people signing up. every year we have about an average of 25. So I might say it's a pretty reassuring number.
I'm going to work the Year 1s hard. As ambitious as it sounds, I want a revolution. I want a strict band with discipline. Fun is allowed after seriousness.
Why do I sound like I have the ability to do just that?
I think Jiehan's rubbing off me his fervour.
We ended celebrating Chan Lam's birthday. And Yong Jie's too.
Oh well. I think I'll just have to stop. I really can't think of anything funny today. Sorry, Zhengyu. I'll replenish my stock of laughs next time.
It's only a week and I miss XXX already. x|

signed, jiasheng