Monday, February 27, 2006

 

stories unshared

I was reading through some old entries from my private blog (long un-updated but ever still so private) and even leafed through my diary as a 16 year old. It is amazing how much came back at me.

The small smiles, the occasional shakings of the head and the inaudible sigh at times.

I wondered if my life was made more boring as it trotted on to its 24th year of existence.

So many stories then! And so often it has been shared, heartfelt and sincere. The late nights (and therefore early mornings) on IRC/ ICQ/ MSN, the meeting-ups after school, and long chats on house phones. A time when conversations hover around BGRs, life and other bittersweet emotional stuff closer to the heart; and less of school, work, politics and frustration. A time when there were more "first experiences" to be excited about; now it seems harder for me to be super hyped up to anything.

New friends missed out on old stories; and old friends missed out on the new ones.

Felt it especially so after I met Haoyong near his place to get a birthday card signed. And on the Outram MRT steps we sat, and chatted for 3 hours, well into dusk. It's just so amazing to chat to him again after this while, the guy who's always has been 1 register number after me for 4 years in RI, always been my lab partner, always had been a brother.

Not sure what I've been feeling of late. A little nostalgic perhaps, a little stifled perhaps. But feeling the occasional pangs of needing to pour out these stories again; the old ones with new good friends, and new ones with old firm friends. And hear the stories. Old ones from new friends, and new ones from old.

All before I lose touch with my social world and spiral downwards into an even smaller encirclement of my life.



Friday, February 24, 2006

 

love, me

Has it been 2 years already? =)

Lesson taken home always: in bad times, always remember the good ones. =)


Tuesday, February 21, 2006

 

thoughts of a burning scalp

Passion

Inspired by Weiqiang's DIY Posters, so decided to copycat and do one myself! =p Sorry bro!

It has truly been a long time since I last stayed out in the sun, got burnt and laughed a lot for no good apparent reason.

Life as it is, is strange. Without the adrenaline rush of a competitor or the stress of an organizer, you might have thought I would strongly feel something missing. I did, but it was replaced by a totally relaxing sensation of a spectator, out there in the sun cheering my mates on. And still, I did not miss out much on the parts of the competition I liked most: doing sai-kang, driving around getting logistics settled, talking cock and laughing like a carefree spirit.

During which, a constant nagging reminder at the back of my mind told me to be contented with being a follower and spectator, because smart-alecky-indian-chief comments will not do the organisation of the competition any good. Good spirited cheering and genuine enthusiasm will. And it was fun as well =)

Maybe, indeed, no passion is as deeply rooted in man than that of envy. Before going to the competition, I could already feel the bittersweet taste of envy in my throat, mixed with that of joy, pride and a tinge of jealousy. Somehow I knew ZT, ZC and Ben will get medals that day, and somewhere I knew I could have amongst them, collecting the first medal in my short archery career. And surprisingly, the envy and jealousy never came at the end of the day, just sheer pride, knowing that they deserved very much their prize, for all the effort and passion they put into the sport. And sheer joy, for all the fun I had in the course of not just the day, but the years. I had chosen my path, and walked the line.

Passion and love never breed regrets.
Joy endures, and is derived elsewhere from the same passion.

The temptation to pick up a bow and shoot again is there. Who knows, I might just have the opportunity to do it =)


Wednesday, February 15, 2006

 

chalks and powerpoints

I always felt something amiss these days when I attend lectures, but could never put a finger to it.

And somehow, it struck me today, when my lecturer in EC4880 scribbled on the whiteboard long and tedious mathematical equations.

No powerpoints! No slides, no clicking, no going through the motion of teaching.

Step by step, he pathed his thought processes on the board. No fancy animations, no onslaught of colours. And I realised how much better I would have understood these stuff than if they had been on powerpoint slides. The magical equations made more sense as they systematically appear on the whiteboard in tune with his voice. No more copying furiously in fear the lecturer click through the slides, no more going back the slides to emphasize the big piture; you can always choose what remains on the whiteboard.

I also remembered all my lectures were like that in US. All except 1, were taught by lecturers pouring their hearts out at the board.

I think I learn better this way as well.

~~~

I remembered the blackboard days. Days when I was class monitor in Primary 5, having to write the class attendance, date and day on the top right hand corner of the blackboard, and needing a chair for my 155cm body to stand on whilst I write. I would frame up the class attendance in bold yellow outline and underline the date in pink.

I remembered the chalks. Boxes of them. First there was only white, and then there was blue, pink, yellow and even green. I remembered how fun it was to write with chalks on the blackboard, trying out the different thickness in the strokes, written with the sides. I remembered how we used to throw the small pieces at the girls, days when single pony-tails were still in fashion. I remembered how I will wipe my chalk-stained hands on my shorts after writing something.

I remembered the duster. Having always to hit it by the side of the blackboard to "clean" it so that it can be used properly, the cloud of chalk dust leaving a mark on my khaki shorts, and settling on my black round-rimmed glasses.

Pupils looking down beneath textbooks not hard at sms-ing, but playing a game of tic-tac-toe with a classmate, or raving about the newest card craze. Teachers draw, write and talk above the usual chatter.

We learnt well then too, didn't we?

~~~

And suddenly the more we grow, the greater the disparity we find oursleves and our best friends that used to sit beside us in class. The better the technology, the further I feel I am from my teachers. The higher the quality of life, the more complicated living becomes.

It really wasn't bad at all back then, was it?



Thursday, February 09, 2006

 

unwell

I've been unwell (I don't like to use the word sick, unless necessary) since CNY. No goodies, early nights and struggling to put on the best face in school.

But it also meant I spent plenty of time in front of the TV and computer. And indulging in 古龙, since 金庸 books run out really fast in the libraries, plus I completed all of them at least once before.

不懂情人心里想的
爱就瞎了也迷路了
想摸索什么
摸到了你手心的沉默
最痴情的男人像海洋
爱在风暴里逞强苦
还是风平浪静的模样
卷起了依恋那么长
挥手目送你启航
到你觉得我给不了的天堂

For those really boliao people who somehow caught "Campus Superstar", we should all salute Yin Wei, the RI boy (no, i'm not bias! but my blog song is dedicated to him =p) who got kicked out by the undeserving Renfred, who belongs to the boyish-cute-but-cannot-sing-for-nuts category. Worse than Sylvester, and that's saying a lot coming from me.

And for those who have no idea what I'm talking about, good for you!
You have a life =)

~~~

And I've been doing online quizzes. I belong to the boliao-curious-but-never-like-to-tell-people-that-I-do-quizzes type of people. So ok, I'm unwell, love at my boliao-ness.

Your #1 Match: INFJ

The Protector
You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity.Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is.You are an excellent listener, with almost infinite patience.You have complex, deep feelings, and you take great care to express them.
You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher.

Your #2 Match: INFP

The Idealist
You are creative with a great imagination, living in your own inner world.Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships.It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close.But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop.
You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

Your #3 Match: ISFJ

The Nurturer
You have a strong need to belong, and you very loyal.A good listener, you excell at helping others in practical ways.In your spare time, you enjoy engaging your senses through art, cooking, and music.You find it easy to be devoted to one person, who you do special things for.
You would make a good interior designer, chef, or child psychologist.

Your #4 Match: ENFJ

The Giver
You strive to maintain harmony in relationships, and usually succeed.Articulate and enthusiastic, you are good at making personal connections.Sometimes you idealize relationships too much - and end up being let down.You find the most energy and comfort in social situations ... where you shine.
You would make a good writer, human resources director, or psychologist.

What's Your Personality Type?


Mickey Result
Mickey Mouse

Which DISNEY character are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla

I must be really sick. They don't sound like me.


Monday, February 06, 2006

 

无光

海天辽阔,
远处的地平线已剩下一片朦胧的灰影。
蓝天白云已被黑暗取代。

无光。

~~~

My father once told me, "If someone want to set you up, 说什么都是错的。"

~~~

I'm incredibly dumb. Somemore an incredibly tired moron. My tired brain is not good at word games and its getting fried slowly from all the double-guessing, triple-guessing and all that reverse psychology.

My brain cells are being killed in the battle of making asymmetric wrong decisions; on seemingly always doing what I'm not supposed to do and not doing what I am supposed to.

眼前选择一片朦胧。
傻得如何选都是错。
无光照亮,走错得很累。
无光。



Thursday, February 02, 2006

 

bless you

The guy beside me in lecture sneezed today, and I uttered "Bless you." Almost subconsciously.

But rather awkwardly. Strangely.
Considering it almost became second nature to me in US, it feels so strange now.
Like I just did some out-of-local-custom stuff then.

He half-stared at me, probably not sure how to respond. I don't really blame him; we're not used to this after all.

Almost as if to make up for the awkward silence, he sneezed again.

A struggle between saving him the embarrassment of not knowing what to do and being gracious emerged, and I decided to pay more attention to my notes instead. He seems happier that way.

~~~~~

When we sneeze, our heart stops for that fraction of a second. And we could be dead.

So when people say "bless you" to us when we sneeze, we should not be too surprised and not look like goon-du, struggling to find a response.
Smile, and say "thank you."

How else easier, in a move towards a more gracious society?



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