Everyone's still alive after the first round, most happy, some sad. Everything I've done is not fantastic, but hopefully good enough. It felt the same, looked the same, seemed the same as every other paper I've done, but it somehow, something just doesn't feel right. Its like firing off a cannon. You hear the shell coming out, but there's no resulting boom, and then you start wondering whether or not you've been firing live rounds or whether you accidentally loaded the rock cakes that they serve at teatime.
Chemistry, dammit... It was such an easy paper, routine and straightforward, and I've already lost 6 marks due to carelessness. It's such a let down. I got 70+ for the 2007 paper. I got an A1 for Chemistry BEFORE moderation when less than 20% of the school got an A AFTER moderation.
"Cheng Heng, don't be an arrogant bastard and cry over 6 marks, I lost much more than that!" I'm sure many of you will say. While a loss of 6 marks is theoretically 74/80, which is still major l33t, I've seen Murphy's Law enacted on me many, many times. When you've been Fate's favourite trick pony everytime It wants to see someone trip and fall just before the finish line as often as me and perhaps Liverpool, you'll understand.
"Don't count thy chickens before they hatch!" is the adage I like to live by. And even after I've seen something moving inside the proverbial eggs when I hold them up to the light, there's always a chance that the dealer was a dishonest bastard who sold you duck eggs instead of chicken eggs.
It's disturbing as well, looking at the general mood around country for the last few papers. A Maths, apparently, was a no-brainer for plenty of people, judging by the forums I've seen so far. Even up there plenty of people seem to have lost less then me. And unless the large majority of people which I require to die in front of me has no access to the internet whatsoever, I'm sailing in extremely dire straits.
In the five hours in between I started this post, went down to have a steak and watched one movie, I just managed to hypnotize/convince/calm down/lie to/assure myself that all is fine.
And why you may ask? Because, the blessed internet has borne me more great fruit!
I found the answers to the E Maths Paper 1. 71/80. I'm feeling good.
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Tuesday, 30 September 2008
A Journey Comes to A Close
Today is the final day where I'll go through normal schooling in SJI. Ever.
What can I say? That was one hell of a fast ride. I can still vividly remember the first day I stepped in, 6.45 in the morning, bright and alert for my first day. Meh, who am I kidding, I was fighting not to fall asleep since I had to get up at 5.30 to get to school before I moved.
Someone (Name starts with K, ends with H, and has a EIT in the center) unscrewed the 422 sign from the back door and ran off with it, and almost got the one at the front door as well. While not exactly a sensible idea, I guess it shows how much we love our class, to the point that we want to carry a part of it (Literally) with us everywhere we go.
The memories...
Well, there are good ones, there are bad ones, and there are stupid ones that just make you go "WTF?". I'll just try to keep the good ones, try to forget the bad ones, and replay the stupid ones in my head for laughs.
You start to take notice of all the little things you never bothered noticing before on days like this. Like how small groups of guys will just sit around shooting the shit with each other after class, how Kevin's latest chalk portrayal of Wayne on the board has much in common with a Greater Demon, all that.
Tried to leave our own mark somewhere in the class, but 422 2007 got most of the good spots already. Even the bits behind the projector screen, although Raghaav and someone else already wrote TungNation there as well.
And yet the day passed like any other day, with a few exceptions. Feroz was being the usual stupid bitch she is, but Lam finally stopped picking on the usual people today (Wayne, Shen Shin, Tim, Gerard etc).
The testimonial letters Tung wrote for us were fantastic, got an entire paragraph talking about my academics and how I've always done well, though his letter makes it seem like I've only ever played one year for my team, cause he only mentions 2007.
Of course, Tung decided not to be entirely truthful this time round, unlike during Graduation Day. According to him, Sam is a "man of faith"
As quoted from the man himself
------------------------------
Sam : God is my favourite fictional character.
------------------------------
Go figure, he's not very big on religion. Shen Shin is apparently a "compassionate" person. Next to a rock perhaps. And for some reason, practically everyone's letter had the word "amiable" in it. Probably a lack of a better word, same reason why the principal can only use "urge" and Miles can only use "special" when requesting we do something or praising a person respectively.
To all the friends I've made here (Bryant, Tim K, Tim the Fool, Sam Loh, Lolses, and rest which I haven't listed here), thanks for the good times guys. Many of us will probably go our separate ways after the O-Levels, but I'll always carry the times we spent together with me. Good luck to all of you guys, and once again thanks for the memories.
Especially you Wayne. The time where you clotheslined yourself will be a tale I will tell my grandkids with pride. 8 )
What can I say? That was one hell of a fast ride. I can still vividly remember the first day I stepped in, 6.45 in the morning, bright and alert for my first day. Meh, who am I kidding, I was fighting not to fall asleep since I had to get up at 5.30 to get to school before I moved.
Someone (Name starts with K, ends with H, and has a EIT in the center) unscrewed the 422 sign from the back door and ran off with it, and almost got the one at the front door as well. While not exactly a sensible idea, I guess it shows how much we love our class, to the point that we want to carry a part of it (Literally) with us everywhere we go.
The memories...
Well, there are good ones, there are bad ones, and there are stupid ones that just make you go "WTF?". I'll just try to keep the good ones, try to forget the bad ones, and replay the stupid ones in my head for laughs.
You start to take notice of all the little things you never bothered noticing before on days like this. Like how small groups of guys will just sit around shooting the shit with each other after class, how Kevin's latest chalk portrayal of Wayne on the board has much in common with a Greater Demon, all that.
Tried to leave our own mark somewhere in the class, but 422 2007 got most of the good spots already. Even the bits behind the projector screen, although Raghaav and someone else already wrote TungNation there as well.
And yet the day passed like any other day, with a few exceptions. Feroz was being the usual stupid bitch she is, but Lam finally stopped picking on the usual people today (Wayne, Shen Shin, Tim, Gerard etc).
The testimonial letters Tung wrote for us were fantastic, got an entire paragraph talking about my academics and how I've always done well, though his letter makes it seem like I've only ever played one year for my team, cause he only mentions 2007.
Of course, Tung decided not to be entirely truthful this time round, unlike during Graduation Day. According to him, Sam is a "man of faith"
As quoted from the man himself
------------------------------
Sam : God is my favourite fictional character.
------------------------------
Go figure, he's not very big on religion. Shen Shin is apparently a "compassionate" person. Next to a rock perhaps. And for some reason, practically everyone's letter had the word "amiable" in it. Probably a lack of a better word, same reason why the principal can only use "urge" and Miles can only use "special" when requesting we do something or praising a person respectively.
To all the friends I've made here (Bryant, Tim K, Tim the Fool, Sam Loh, Lolses, and rest which I haven't listed here), thanks for the good times guys. Many of us will probably go our separate ways after the O-Levels, but I'll always carry the times we spent together with me. Good luck to all of you guys, and once again thanks for the memories.
Especially you Wayne. The time where you clotheslined yourself will be a tale I will tell my grandkids with pride. 8 )
Monday, 8 September 2008
Epiphany
Epiphany
1. (initial capital letter) a Christian festival, observed on January 6, commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi; Twelfth-day.
2. An appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity.
3. A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.
(From Dictionary.com)
Like being up at 4 in the morning the day before school starts even though I'm finished with my holiday homework for once. Its tradition.
Anyway, there I was, just reading about Wall.E and all the references it makes to Pixar's other films (Toy Story's Rex appears in his collection of stuff, the rat-bots seen in the rubbish disposal area are called REM-E, a reference to Ratatouille) when all of a sudden, that feeling comes back again.
Its the same one I get after watching most other Disney/Pixar animated films (Animated, not the rubbish like High School Musical).
I want to be a part of it all.
Be up there with them, create these vessels of storytelling that have such an effect on me, and share that feeling with the rest of the world.
I want to work there.
The logical part of me says "Quit dreaming, get to sleep already, its 4.30."
The rest of me does that dramatic "I want to follow my dreams and spread my wings" speech, dying for even that tiny, minute crystal of a chance that it might one day that the dream might materialize.
And therein lies the problem. So often does this feeling surge up, only to be pimp smacked into submission by cold, hard logic, proceeding to wither and die like flower in a desert.
For one, I can't draw to save my life. My last serious attempt at anything visually artistic was when I was five and trying to draw balloons.
And the best in the world will all be trying to get in there as well. I used to laugh at the people with 6 points going to animation courses, but at the moment, well, ah dammit, you know what I'm talking about.
But some desert flowers are persistent little blighters that simply refuse to die out. One generation dies, leaves seeds for next rainfall of yet another good movie from Disney/Pixar, seeds grow up into flowers which then flash the "V for Victory" and planting the seeds for the next generation before being stomped on by the hobnailed boots of big, mean Reality.
This time though, the feeling lasted long enough for me to do a serious search for requirements to land a job there. The Pixar site lists that one needs to do a demo reel of a short for animators, but the link for "Can I Submit a Story?" is broken so I'll never know if I can. Somehow, I've got a feeling they don't normally take in a person who can make a story but can't materialize it. Like taking in a guy who can write but can't read.
Even as I type, the feeling is dying down once more. The requirements to get in, and the videos the competition have sent in are taking turns jumping on its prone, helpless form. (If I searched right on Google, I think the Kiwi video was one).
Its a simple, but powerful short. But yet its showcases the creator's animation prowess, as well as his unquestionable ability to send a message through it and tell a story, made all the more commendable because it has no dialogue at all.
For now, I'll just lovingly put that dream back onto the shelf, just in front the one of me becoming the new Roy Keane for United, between the one where I become a world renowned chef specializing in steaks and the one where I become a CSI unit.
Normally I trivialize sensitive topics, to distance myself from them. But I refuse to here.
I laugh all the time all the other three, trivialize them, because I know and feel that they'll never come true.
I'll never laugh at that dream of working at Pixar though. Not now, and not ten years from now. Not necessarily because it had any greater a chance of coming true then the rest of them. But because it felt so much more real than all the rest, and because I wanted it so much more.
Perhaps I'm giving up the fight before its even started. Perhaps I'm safeguarding myself from certain failure. I don't know. Perhaps I'll simply come crashing down if I set down that road, like what happens so often in real life, and either I or the dream won't survive the fall. Perhaps it'll come true if I bet my last chip on it, like so many characters have in all their films.
Maybe that's why I'm drawn to them, the promise of success if you just try one last time.
But although I'm shelving it for now, I might even settle for an illusion, like the Kiwi's own illusion, even if it will only last a short while before its inevitable end.
1. (initial capital letter) a Christian festival, observed on January 6, commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi; Twelfth-day.
2. An appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity.
3. A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.
(From Dictionary.com)
Like being up at 4 in the morning the day before school starts even though I'm finished with my holiday homework for once. Its tradition.
Anyway, there I was, just reading about Wall.E and all the references it makes to Pixar's other films (Toy Story's Rex appears in his collection of stuff, the rat-bots seen in the rubbish disposal area are called REM-E, a reference to Ratatouille) when all of a sudden, that feeling comes back again.
Its the same one I get after watching most other Disney/Pixar animated films (Animated, not the rubbish like High School Musical).
I want to be a part of it all.
Be up there with them, create these vessels of storytelling that have such an effect on me, and share that feeling with the rest of the world.
I want to work there.
The logical part of me says "Quit dreaming, get to sleep already, its 4.30."
The rest of me does that dramatic "I want to follow my dreams and spread my wings" speech, dying for even that tiny, minute crystal of a chance that it might one day that the dream might materialize.
And therein lies the problem. So often does this feeling surge up, only to be pimp smacked into submission by cold, hard logic, proceeding to wither and die like flower in a desert.
For one, I can't draw to save my life. My last serious attempt at anything visually artistic was when I was five and trying to draw balloons.
And the best in the world will all be trying to get in there as well. I used to laugh at the people with 6 points going to animation courses, but at the moment, well, ah dammit, you know what I'm talking about.
But some desert flowers are persistent little blighters that simply refuse to die out. One generation dies, leaves seeds for next rainfall of yet another good movie from Disney/Pixar, seeds grow up into flowers which then flash the "V for Victory" and planting the seeds for the next generation before being stomped on by the hobnailed boots of big, mean Reality.
This time though, the feeling lasted long enough for me to do a serious search for requirements to land a job there. The Pixar site lists that one needs to do a demo reel of a short for animators, but the link for "Can I Submit a Story?" is broken so I'll never know if I can. Somehow, I've got a feeling they don't normally take in a person who can make a story but can't materialize it. Like taking in a guy who can write but can't read.
Even as I type, the feeling is dying down once more. The requirements to get in, and the videos the competition have sent in are taking turns jumping on its prone, helpless form. (If I searched right on Google, I think the Kiwi video was one).
Its a simple, but powerful short. But yet its showcases the creator's animation prowess, as well as his unquestionable ability to send a message through it and tell a story, made all the more commendable because it has no dialogue at all.
For now, I'll just lovingly put that dream back onto the shelf, just in front the one of me becoming the new Roy Keane for United, between the one where I become a world renowned chef specializing in steaks and the one where I become a CSI unit.
Normally I trivialize sensitive topics, to distance myself from them. But I refuse to here.
I laugh all the time all the other three, trivialize them, because I know and feel that they'll never come true.
I'll never laugh at that dream of working at Pixar though. Not now, and not ten years from now. Not necessarily because it had any greater a chance of coming true then the rest of them. But because it felt so much more real than all the rest, and because I wanted it so much more.
Perhaps I'm giving up the fight before its even started. Perhaps I'm safeguarding myself from certain failure. I don't know. Perhaps I'll simply come crashing down if I set down that road, like what happens so often in real life, and either I or the dream won't survive the fall. Perhaps it'll come true if I bet my last chip on it, like so many characters have in all their films.
Maybe that's why I'm drawn to them, the promise of success if you just try one last time.
But although I'm shelving it for now, I might even settle for an illusion, like the Kiwi's own illusion, even if it will only last a short while before its inevitable end.
Monday, 25 August 2008
I Spy...
With my little eye, a Heavy who doesn't realize anything suspicious about a "friendly" Pyro back to his own base in the sewers. Butterfly knife FTW.
Have begun playing Team Fortress 2, mostly as a Spy, going around stabbing hapless Snipers and Heavies in the back. Okay fine, the learning curve is really steep for Spy (70 kills to 250 deaths), it didn't help that the other side had become Spy-paranoid after I captured the intelligence twice in my first game. Seriously, I walk up cloaked to a Pyro from behind and all of a sudden he/she/it turns around and lets off a plume of fire and I'm roasted.
I guess its imprinted onto me now, since its the first class I played in TF2, much like how I'm stuck to the Vengeful Spirit if I ever touch DotA. Its just so FUN to rush into a giant crowd of people who have no idea you're there and go on a kamikaze stabby rampage!! Or sap like 7 dispensers and sentries in a row and watch the poor Engineer futilely try to save them.
Of course, Sam and Jem insist that the Spy is NOT for kamikaze stabby rampages. But meh, they wised up and camped a Heavy outside all escape routes for me whenever I pick up the intel, and you can't cloak or disguise yourself when you're carrying the intel, so I ended up rushing up to the battlements and stabbing as many Snipers and Demomen as I could before someone found me out. Which, unfortunately, got faster as time went by.
I'm enthusiastic about buying it, seeing that I DON'T need a Damien-grade computer to run it, and my computer could actually take it if I got a new graphics card and added some RAM to it. While we're on the topic, my computer apparently has better processing than a WCG computer. Mine packs 3GHz, while Bryant's new one packs just 2GHz. And mine's four years old. Lulz anyone? My cousin must have put some really powerful shit in that thing when he built it.
Did I note that the price tag at the Steam site says it costs just $19.99? I mean, I have no idea what other costs come with that, maybe because its just TF2 alone, and not bound together with the Orange Box (Not that I'm interested in dropping Companion Cubes or killing head crabs anyway), maybe thats just the price alone without shipping/tax and all those other strange costs that come out from bloody nowhere.
But if it really does cost just twenty bucks, I'll take it, definitely. I mean, I can't even buy Sudoku DS for twenty dollars! And no, just because I like sudoku doesn't mean I'm a 4Chan browsing gay Japanese sociopath Sam.
Oh yes, my DS. I just bought Pokemon Diamond for myself. Okay fine, every other game Pokemon has released after Gold/Silver/Crystal was just a blatant attempt to milk the series for money (I realized that when I was 12, thats how bad it was...). But then again, I'm quite partial to milk myself. Come on though, who here has not played/watched Pokemon when they were younger? And who didn't have fun while they were at it?
Anyway, played through 10 hours of it already (Courtesy of today being a no-school day), got just three badges because I keep retreating back to the PokeCentres because my Empeleon/Arrogant metal penguin in a suit runs out of PP so fast.
Pokemon Diamond tries (and pretty much fails) to look 3-D. While they did stick the day and night back into the game, and added the option trade across the internet via a wireless router, it is useless because my router hates me and throws up all sorts of errors when trying to connect.
Have begun playing Team Fortress 2, mostly as a Spy, going around stabbing hapless Snipers and Heavies in the back. Okay fine, the learning curve is really steep for Spy (70 kills to 250 deaths), it didn't help that the other side had become Spy-paranoid after I captured the intelligence twice in my first game. Seriously, I walk up cloaked to a Pyro from behind and all of a sudden he/she/it turns around and lets off a plume of fire and I'm roasted.
I guess its imprinted onto me now, since its the first class I played in TF2, much like how I'm stuck to the Vengeful Spirit if I ever touch DotA. Its just so FUN to rush into a giant crowd of people who have no idea you're there and go on a kamikaze stabby rampage!! Or sap like 7 dispensers and sentries in a row and watch the poor Engineer futilely try to save them.
Of course, Sam and Jem insist that the Spy is NOT for kamikaze stabby rampages. But meh, they wised up and camped a Heavy outside all escape routes for me whenever I pick up the intel, and you can't cloak or disguise yourself when you're carrying the intel, so I ended up rushing up to the battlements and stabbing as many Snipers and Demomen as I could before someone found me out. Which, unfortunately, got faster as time went by.
I'm enthusiastic about buying it, seeing that I DON'T need a Damien-grade computer to run it, and my computer could actually take it if I got a new graphics card and added some RAM to it. While we're on the topic, my computer apparently has better processing than a WCG computer. Mine packs 3GHz, while Bryant's new one packs just 2GHz. And mine's four years old. Lulz anyone? My cousin must have put some really powerful shit in that thing when he built it.
Did I note that the price tag at the Steam site says it costs just $19.99? I mean, I have no idea what other costs come with that, maybe because its just TF2 alone, and not bound together with the Orange Box (Not that I'm interested in dropping Companion Cubes or killing head crabs anyway), maybe thats just the price alone without shipping/tax and all those other strange costs that come out from bloody nowhere.
But if it really does cost just twenty bucks, I'll take it, definitely. I mean, I can't even buy Sudoku DS for twenty dollars! And no, just because I like sudoku doesn't mean I'm a 4Chan browsing gay Japanese sociopath Sam.
Oh yes, my DS. I just bought Pokemon Diamond for myself. Okay fine, every other game Pokemon has released after Gold/Silver/Crystal was just a blatant attempt to milk the series for money (I realized that when I was 12, thats how bad it was...). But then again, I'm quite partial to milk myself. Come on though, who here has not played/watched Pokemon when they were younger? And who didn't have fun while they were at it?
Anyway, played through 10 hours of it already (Courtesy of today being a no-school day), got just three badges because I keep retreating back to the PokeCentres because my Empeleon/Arrogant metal penguin in a suit runs out of PP so fast.
Pokemon Diamond tries (and pretty much fails) to look 3-D. While they did stick the day and night back into the game, and added the option trade across the internet via a wireless router, it is useless because my router hates me and throws up all sorts of errors when trying to connect.
Monday, 18 August 2008
Its Been A Good Week
A very good week in fact. Prelims are going sexy sweet. Nothing says "I Love Life!" more than playing COD4 at seven on a Monday morning while there are some poor buggers out there fighting for their lives in a Geography exam.
And I passed my Chinese at O-Levels. I PASSED!!! One who has never passed since the start of Sec 3, has PASSED! With a C5 I might add.
English Oral was imbarrage! It was so...so... Ah crud, its the attack of the Michael Phelps Syndrome. All I can say was that it was cool, like he did upon finding out he had become the winner of the most Olympic golds of all time. Yes, the irony of not being able to say anything now despite owning for oral is not lost on me.
Wait, its coming back now. In a litany of...of... fuck this, it was awesome, lets just leave it at that. Electric guitars playing in my head as I walked out of the library, I did get myself lost on the complicated and poorly explained route out planned by the teachers.
I found myself trying to kick open the mysterious locked door at the third story of a flight of stairs behind the library I never knew existed until then. After some back tracking I finally came across the hidden sign saying "This Way Please" pointing downward which lead me to another three doors, two of which were locked and the last one leading into a surreal and empty hall.
Unable to resist the urge to be a complete jackass on the stage without anyone throwing stuff at me, I ran onto the empty stage and attempted to sing various songs in falsetto voices not unlike Robin Gibb, before accidentally knocking over the "Silence, Examination in Progress" sign with a noisy clang as I grabbed my bag.
Apparently, Kevin Lee had decided to show that he had male hormones in him by talking about how "pretty" one the examiners have been, but who the hell has the time/peace of mind to check out the examiners in a oral exam where you have one shot only and a bad mark will send you down to the pit of you-are-totally-screwed.
Admittedly from what I saw of the other examiners I guess Kevin and Co. weren't far off, though one did look like Melissa Yeo which incited a blood rage to go rip her arm off and proceed to beat her to death with it.
And I passed my Chinese at O-Levels. I PASSED!!! One who has never passed since the start of Sec 3, has PASSED! With a C5 I might add.
English Oral was imbarrage! It was so...so... Ah crud, its the attack of the Michael Phelps Syndrome. All I can say was that it was cool, like he did upon finding out he had become the winner of the most Olympic golds of all time. Yes, the irony of not being able to say anything now despite owning for oral is not lost on me.
Wait, its coming back now. In a litany of...of... fuck this, it was awesome, lets just leave it at that. Electric guitars playing in my head as I walked out of the library, I did get myself lost on the complicated and poorly explained route out planned by the teachers.
I found myself trying to kick open the mysterious locked door at the third story of a flight of stairs behind the library I never knew existed until then. After some back tracking I finally came across the hidden sign saying "This Way Please" pointing downward which lead me to another three doors, two of which were locked and the last one leading into a surreal and empty hall.
Unable to resist the urge to be a complete jackass on the stage without anyone throwing stuff at me, I ran onto the empty stage and attempted to sing various songs in falsetto voices not unlike Robin Gibb, before accidentally knocking over the "Silence, Examination in Progress" sign with a noisy clang as I grabbed my bag.
Apparently, Kevin Lee had decided to show that he had male hormones in him by talking about how "pretty" one the examiners have been, but who the hell has the time/peace of mind to check out the examiners in a oral exam where you have one shot only and a bad mark will send you down to the pit of you-are-totally-screwed.
Admittedly from what I saw of the other examiners I guess Kevin and Co. weren't far off, though one did look like Melissa Yeo which incited a blood rage to go rip her arm off and proceed to beat her to death with it.
Monday, 28 July 2008
Get Ready to Go Again
-----
Quote of the Post
Mrs Ang : Here Cheng Heng, have a piece of cake, I've been so unkind to you. With good reason though. (Passes cake)
-----
Well, two weeks to prelims. Damn, where the heck did all the days go... Guess this is what using a credit card feels like.
Managed to convince Bryant to follow me to Woodlands Library to study, since the place looks, sounds and *normally*, is peaceful.
Unfortunately, as per normal, when I have an idea, a couple hundred other people will have the same idea at that same moment. The place was packed, and for some reason, everyone seemed to come in groups of three, so there was never a seat for the both of us at any of the tables.
An hour and a half of freefragging the Bendemeer E Maths papers on the floor, we gave up and deviated to the comics section as his request. Tried Macs, but they don't allow you to study there on weekends, stayed at the foodcourt for an hour or so.
Then, we wound up at the new games shop that opened up. Which I never saw, despite going to Causeway Point every week, but they classified Metroid Prime Hunters as a New Arrival. It came out in 2006. Place is pretty cheap though.
Saw a couple of little kids playing badminton as we were walking through the estate. They look better than half the class at it, if our PE lessons are anything to go by.
----
Bryant : Feel like playing as well?
Me : Why not? With them?
Bryant : Nah, don't think so.
Me : Because we're antisocial bastards?
Bryant : Yeah.
Me : Or you just don't get beaten by an eight year old
Bryant : That too.
----
I must have struck his dad's car more than 10 times in the half an hour we played. Not intentionally, though even he admits its an ugly car.
Physics was okay today. They shrunk the paper to fit within two hours by cutting the MCQ, but it still went well. Bodes well for the prelim.
Mrs Ang is playing conscience games with us. She gives us CAKE to try and make us feel guilty about not doing our work so we'd do it. And it was good cake! It's working too, so now we're all trying to squeeze it in between doing Mr Lam's MGS paper.
Career talk today, went to the engineering course, and all the signs point to me being an engineer. Need to be good at Physics, good at Maths, and don't mind getting dirty, and not too many people want to do it. My kind of job!
*Daydream Starts*
Me :DIE MATHAFUKKER!! THATS THE LAST TIME YOU SPAWN CAMP ME!
(Bashes Pyro's head in with big wrench)
*Daydream Ends*
Anyway, just to end off, something Kai Yang spotted today at the bus stop.
----
Kai Yang : Guys, look! Lesbians!
*Points to a pair of girls holding hands and walking*
Me : Wow, he's right!
Bryant : Guys, just because they're holding hands doesn't mean they're lesbians. I mean, my sisters do that as well, they aren't lesbians. Wait, uh-oh... What if
Me : Lets not go there...
----
Because that is wrong on so many counts. 8 (
Started a Facebook account at 3am on Sunday morning. Kevin Wong found it within 24 hours. And I hadn't even told anyone yet. They'll make a stalker out of him yet! 8 )
Quote of the Post
Mrs Ang : Here Cheng Heng, have a piece of cake, I've been so unkind to you. With good reason though. (Passes cake)
-----
Well, two weeks to prelims. Damn, where the heck did all the days go... Guess this is what using a credit card feels like.
Managed to convince Bryant to follow me to Woodlands Library to study, since the place looks, sounds and *normally*, is peaceful.
Unfortunately, as per normal, when I have an idea, a couple hundred other people will have the same idea at that same moment. The place was packed, and for some reason, everyone seemed to come in groups of three, so there was never a seat for the both of us at any of the tables.
An hour and a half of freefragging the Bendemeer E Maths papers on the floor, we gave up and deviated to the comics section as his request. Tried Macs, but they don't allow you to study there on weekends, stayed at the foodcourt for an hour or so.
Then, we wound up at the new games shop that opened up. Which I never saw, despite going to Causeway Point every week, but they classified Metroid Prime Hunters as a New Arrival. It came out in 2006. Place is pretty cheap though.
Saw a couple of little kids playing badminton as we were walking through the estate. They look better than half the class at it, if our PE lessons are anything to go by.
----
Bryant : Feel like playing as well?
Me : Why not? With them?
Bryant : Nah, don't think so.
Me : Because we're antisocial bastards?
Bryant : Yeah.
Me : Or you just don't get beaten by an eight year old
Bryant : That too.
----
I must have struck his dad's car more than 10 times in the half an hour we played. Not intentionally, though even he admits its an ugly car.
Physics was okay today. They shrunk the paper to fit within two hours by cutting the MCQ, but it still went well. Bodes well for the prelim.
Mrs Ang is playing conscience games with us. She gives us CAKE to try and make us feel guilty about not doing our work so we'd do it. And it was good cake! It's working too, so now we're all trying to squeeze it in between doing Mr Lam's MGS paper.
Career talk today, went to the engineering course, and all the signs point to me being an engineer. Need to be good at Physics, good at Maths, and don't mind getting dirty, and not too many people want to do it. My kind of job!
*Daydream Starts*
Me :DIE MATHAFUKKER!! THATS THE LAST TIME YOU SPAWN CAMP ME!
(Bashes Pyro's head in with big wrench)
*Daydream Ends*
Anyway, just to end off, something Kai Yang spotted today at the bus stop.
----
Kai Yang : Guys, look! Lesbians!
*Points to a pair of girls holding hands and walking*
Me : Wow, he's right!
Bryant : Guys, just because they're holding hands doesn't mean they're lesbians. I mean, my sisters do that as well, they aren't lesbians. Wait, uh-oh... What if
Me : Lets not go there...
----
Because that is wrong on so many counts. 8 (
Started a Facebook account at 3am on Sunday morning. Kevin Wong found it within 24 hours. And I hadn't even told anyone yet. They'll make a stalker out of him yet! 8 )
Saturday, 5 July 2008
Dying City
Walking through the ruins of a dream I once held dear
Seeing only desolation and emptiness down here
I raised this city of a dream, I did it oh so fast
But the essence is so near death, its life now in the past
The wind howls through the barren streets, cold and unforgiving
Sapping away at my very will to go on living
I seek shelter behind a crumbling wall
Anything to stave off the chilling squall
Rain beats down mercilessly without pause
As I huddle pathetically behind the wall, a rebel without a cause
All alone and broken-hearted, as the rain mingles with my tears
As they both slide down my face, as I watch my city dear
Turn to dust, and nothingness and air
As I stand there in the rain, in the zenith of my despair
Then it hit me, like a paper ball casually thrown
Perhaps it is a good thing that I had only known
The dream for such a short time, so the memories
Of that which I mention as a dream allegory
Are mercifully few, for the time was brief
But so sweet the were, reminiscence brings nought but grief
It is better to love and lost than never loved at all
To take that plunge and risk that painful fall
And along with that epiphany came the light
The rise of the sun heralding the end of night
Storm clouds stop pouring and begin to slowly clear
And gone with them are my sorrow and my fear
My city still lies in ruins, but now it’s far from dying
Life still hides in the cracks, so far from expiring
Should I try to rebuild it? Or should I start anew?
Start once over again or search for lands afield?
No matter, I have plenty of time to decided
How the resurrect this dream which almost died
Once again, I walk through the ruins of a dear I once held dear
But now, in a different light, with hope and second chances here.
Seeing only desolation and emptiness down here
I raised this city of a dream, I did it oh so fast
But the essence is so near death, its life now in the past
The wind howls through the barren streets, cold and unforgiving
Sapping away at my very will to go on living
I seek shelter behind a crumbling wall
Anything to stave off the chilling squall
Rain beats down mercilessly without pause
As I huddle pathetically behind the wall, a rebel without a cause
All alone and broken-hearted, as the rain mingles with my tears
As they both slide down my face, as I watch my city dear
Turn to dust, and nothingness and air
As I stand there in the rain, in the zenith of my despair
Then it hit me, like a paper ball casually thrown
Perhaps it is a good thing that I had only known
The dream for such a short time, so the memories
Of that which I mention as a dream allegory
Are mercifully few, for the time was brief
But so sweet the were, reminiscence brings nought but grief
It is better to love and lost than never loved at all
To take that plunge and risk that painful fall
And along with that epiphany came the light
The rise of the sun heralding the end of night
Storm clouds stop pouring and begin to slowly clear
And gone with them are my sorrow and my fear
My city still lies in ruins, but now it’s far from dying
Life still hides in the cracks, so far from expiring
Should I try to rebuild it? Or should I start anew?
Start once over again or search for lands afield?
No matter, I have plenty of time to decided
How the resurrect this dream which almost died
Once again, I walk through the ruins of a dear I once held dear
But now, in a different light, with hope and second chances here.
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