Oh bugger

Hmm..Havent been updating for quite a while. Oh well, this week turned out to be pretty bad for me, but a bad week usually comes with some form of optimism so I guess I'll tone down on the word "bad" for now.

That feeling of sheer exhaustion is gaining on me again, particularly in the mornings when my half hearted brain scream at my battered body to get up for school.(That is, assuming that the alarm clock work at all) Sleep doesnt seem to be curing that lethagic feeling coupled with dread and stress that overwhelmed me morning after morning. It got so bad on thursday when I woke up with sore throat, headache and that usual "aw I wanna die" feeling that I can only remember myself popping two Panadols before dropping back to blessed oblivion. Sigh. Well, I guess it is just a passing thing. And it had better pass soon before I turn permanently into that grumpy old skeptic that had terrorised everyone she met during this week.

So it came as no surprise when this grumpy old skeptic made her friend cry on friday. I guess she went overboard with her fatalistic theories on the horrors of mankind while shoving "the book of survival version 21.1--Concrete Jungle" into her friend's face, who had always believed that the world consist of polite and smiling fellow beings giving away candies while shouting "Life Is Beautiful!". Naturally, the poor girl wasnt able to take it (well, I dont think anyone could, unless he or she happen to be a grumpy old skeptic too), and so retorted with a remark I would hardly find flattering. And a remark I would hardly find flattering will be followed by a remark you would find even less flattering and this will effectively erupt into a classic case of Misunderstanding, ending with the grumpy (and angry) old skeptic fuming away while her friend took off to some air-conditioned place in a huff. Ah well. People.

Still, I hope things have cleared up. I am assured that she wasnt angry with me anymore, but I'm not sure if she had forgiven me totally. It is quite bad to have your friend confessing to you that she hasnt liked you since the day she met you. But I guess I probably deserve it.



I'm sorry for hurting you all this while.


Anyway, that's just one ho-hum of the week. Then there's the case of two idealistic lovebirds which I have somehow got involved in. The guy is someone who believes in committing totally into a relationship and expect things to work out according to his idealised plan, that his girl will follow him where ever he go, making the necessary sacrifices for the sake of LOVE, since he is willing to do that for the sake of LOVE too. In short, LOVE conquers ALL. The girl, unfortunately, is just as idealistic, but believes in totally different things. She believes that it it possible to have as many cakes as possible and eat them at the same time, (I wonder how big is her mouth?) that a long distance relationship is perfectly possible as long as they still love each other in their hearts and she will be able to pursue her ambitions at the same time. In short, LOVE conquers ALL too. Of course, this doesnt go down well with the two of them and the guy felt that it would be better if they broke up now as it would hurt him less. The girl surprisingly was calm at the suggestion but realised at the last minute that she could not bear to let go and so the two idealistic lovebirds got together again. Ahh well. We will see.

It never fails to amuse me how silly people can be on the idea of love, particularly with teenagers around the same age as me.(So you know I'm not some old hag who has been out of love many times) These people usually enter a relationship without knowing what they really want out of it, or begin with their own idealistic mindsets of what they expect out of it eg, it will last forever, I will love him/her for eternity, we will get married at so and so year, have lotsa babies and live happily ever after.

It's really funny how the idea of problems like do I have enough money, national service, pursuing my own dreams and ambitions does not seem to go into these birds' minds. Small brains maybe? They were probably right in saying that love is blind, for these people not only are blind to the word PROBLEMS, they are also blind to the word CHANGE. It might all start very well, with everything seems perfect and sunny, till CHANGE came into the picture like some ugly blot of ink. Suddenly you realise that you really dont know each other at all, and that each of you had different ideas on how the relationship should go. The idea of a break up start to become very real. One part of you know that it is impossible to continue, but the other part is unwilling to let go of the security and comfort you had grew to rely on through each other.

So how? Both of you start living in a web of lies. Convincing yourself that somehow, somehow, things might just work out one day and your partner will give up on his own idealistic way of how things should be going and go according to YOUR plans. Sorry, pal, it's never gonna work. Both of you are just as selfish as each other. Both parties will end up hurting each other even more and this time the damage will be even longer lasting. People will never learn. To believe in the idea that love conquers all is enough to spell doom to your relationship man.

Haha. I realise that I really sound like some love-deprived old hag. Heh. Blame it on my literature teacher, who made me stay up the whole night to do an essay on whether love and marriage is idealistic or romantic in Jane Austen's Persuasion. Still, I believe that love is only possibly through trust, understanding and maturity, when every posssiblity has been considered and acknowledged. This is what I see in my own parents , whom I have grown to realise are the closest example to what I will call "true" love, in my opinion anyway. Haha. My dad is always working overseas and he is still on great terms with my mum after all these years, the perfect example of how long distance relationship can work. Which is why I was so angry that day when someone used my parents as example to her argument that a long distance relationship is possible, especially when she had just proven herself to be such an immature idealist. I take it as an insult man. Just how many people at our age can claim to be as matured as my parents? They had gone through so much more than any of us to reach that level of trust and understanding which formed the base of their relationship. They had an unspoken understanding on the roles they play in this relationship, one to provide for the family, another to take care of the kids. Oh man. I feel so proud of my parents now! Hahaha. X)

Enough for now. It's another unproductive weekend, with me spending the two days reading Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut. A really great book from a wonderful satirist. Go read it if you can. XD

Musing

He sat beside me, an ordinary middle aged man in a checkered shirt, tie,black pants and a brown briefcase. I did not notice him at first because I had somehow accidentally caught the attention of a toddler who seemed to have taken an UNHEALTHY interest in my phone and was attempting to grab it with his curious little hands. Fortunately, his mother realised what her little brat was doing and pulled him back soon after, imprisoning him once again in his pram, much to my tremendous relief.

It was then when I heard the sound.

I turned.

The man was sitting there, his eyes closed. He had cupped his hands together and was bringing them back and forth to his face, muttering to himself repeatedly. I watched in amusement. Is this some kind of stress relieve technique? Half a minute went by. The man was muttering louder now. He would be quiet for some time, then continue his action of putting his cupped hands back and forth towards his face. In, out. In, out. This time his inaudible mutterings will be punctuated by soft whispers of "Please God. Please please please" as his body moved in rhythm to his own prayer. Back and forth, back and forth.

A loud wail distracted me. I looked away to see the toddler straining to get out of his pram and pointing his tiny finger at my phone. His mother was trying to quiet him down,flashing apologetic smiles in my direction every now and then. I decided that my phone will have a longer future in my pocket instead.

I looked back at the man beside me. To my surprise, tears were streaming down his face. His eyes were still closed, and he was repeating the whole cycle again, this time with increasing urgency. "Please God. Please please please." I strained to hear further, but he was muttering way too fast and too quietly.

"Next stop.Yishun."

The man opened his eyes. He let out a long sigh. Then he clasped his hands, bowed his head and started praying again. Silently this time. I noticed that he had clasped his hands so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Yishun. Yishun."

"Oh. Please God. Please." He stopped, and looked up. Then, standing up, he wiped his tears away with one quick swipe of his hand. His expression was calm, his movements slow and purposeful as he walked out of the train and blended quietly into the crowd.

Meanwhile, the toddler continued to scream.

What a day to start off year eighteen.

It's like being slammed in the face.

I was angry, angry that it had to turn out this way, angry with myself for not putting in enough effort only to be moaning over the expected outcome now.

Disappointed. Knowing that I have not achieve the minimum that was expected of me. Knowing that they are going to be so disappointed. And that I can do better than that.

Repeating the same mistakes. Over and over. It seems like I never learn.

I was too complacent. I know I deserve this. I know it's my fault. I was behaving like an arrogant kid who thinks that I can get through everything. Till I trip on my ego and fall. Hard.

I didnt know it will turn out THAT BAD. Bleah. It's really bad when you flunk the subject you had never failed before.


"Do you want to go poly?"



I'll show you.

I'll show you what I'm capable of.



Just you wait.



I'll make you take back what you said.

Hmm. Checked my mail today after a really long time. Found this while I was looking for stuff to delete. (Thanks Xinxian!)

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "I believe, that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes, in the way other people treat that child".

Then he told the following story: Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play, not expecting much. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning."Shay struggled over to the team's bench, put on a team shirt with a broad smile and his Father had a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible 'cause Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher,recognizing the other team putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over, but the pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead,the pitcher threw the ball right over the head of the first baseman, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever ran that far but made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!"Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to second base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team, who had a chance to be the hero for his team for the first time. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions and he too intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. As Shay neared third base, the opposing shortstop ran to help him and turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third! Shay, run to third ! "All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams and those watching were on their feet were screaming,"Shay, run home! " Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

That day, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world. Shay didn't make it to another summer and died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his Father so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day.

Education nonsense

Hah.Who will have thought that the pleasant memories mentioned in the previous entry came from a loner who was determine to spend the rest of her school years alone because she could not get along with anyone at all? That violent, bad tempered, rebellious weird geek who had tried so hard to fit in only to be pushed away so many times that she just gave up and told herself never again. Gah. My early school years were a nightmare. LOL. Suxin probably saved me during the first day of secondary two when she turned round smiling and asked my name.

It's funny how MOE allocates the most cruel teachers to teach primary school kids. When I think back now, I think it's probably part of the conditioning process, to produce the next generation of obedient, submissive people who were brainwashed to accept their "roles" in society. Hmm. Let me explain further, by comparing the education system here with the concept from Aldous Huxley's Brave New World. In Brave New World, the human population were conditioned even before birth to their future roles in society, with the Alphas being the smartest, allowed to developed to the fullest potential to be groomed after birth to run the population, followed by the Betas, conditioned to work in various high technology environments such as genetic engineering, the Gammas and Deltas, which formed the working classes of the society, conditioned to know only about serving the society, never to understand or appreciate things like art and nature, followed by the Epsilons, semi retards cruelly starved of oxygen during foetal development so they will never be able to think and can only do repetitive work.

Of course, this is the most extreme scenario, but if you look at the way the education system is like here, you will be able to see several similarities. The Alphas will be those who were streamed into making up what we know as GEPers, supposedly gifted kids groomed to receive the baton to hold high position in the public sector. The Betas, consisting of people with enough intelligence to become the future specialists and major contributors to the nation, they will be those streamed into the EM1 or the Special stream. The Gammas will be the majority of the population, THOUGHT to be better as the higher working class, they will be streamed into EM2 or Express. This will be followed by the Deltas, better known in our world as the Em3 or Normal,forming the lower working class and ASSUMED to be hopeless and only capable of manual labour. I shall skip the Epsilons for now.

Do you see the problem? Such streaming and segregation will be useful if humans are born in such a way that fit the system, and an utopia society will thus be possible. But obviously in our society we are not even close to that. Everyone is born with different talents and abilities. But the education system choose to rely solely on the academic ability of a child to determine where he/she will be streamed to. This is where the problem begins. Because your IQ does not represent your academic ability. The result will be that many kids find themselves streamed into the wrong place which does not match their real abilities at all. Now that's the scary thing. Take for example a kid who with a high IQ but was incredibly lazy, thus he was streamed into EM3, made to undergo a series of conditioning to become what was thought to be fitting by the powers that be. It's like putting someone in a room and playing a recorder that spew sentences like "You are a loser, EM3 sucks, you will never be as good as the others" continuously, 24 hours a day. Unless the kid is someone who is very sure of his real abilities and remain unaffected by everything else (Ok, no kid will be able to be so clear headed), it is inevitable that the kid will fall victim to the extreme conditioning and start convincing himself that those sentences are true afterall.

This is what I really hate about the education system. The elitism behavior that led to stigmatisation and sterotyping. Which I'm ashamed of commiting. To be honest, I have never thought very well of people coming from the other streams, neither do I have much interactions with them during my primary school or secondary school years (I was in EM1 and Special, my secondary school dont even have Normal). When I think about it, all the people I know from other schools when I was in secondary school were the GEPers or fellow specialists.(Good word huh?) People from Express or Normal seems to be from another planet, and even my teachers or parents conditioned me to think that people from the other streams were never as good as mine, not to mix with them so much because you will end up as stupid as them etc. (Yeah, a primary school teacher actually told me that) Perhaps it's a good thing that I ended up where I am now. It really opened my eyes and allowed me to meet people whom I would years ago have snobbed at. (Ok, please start slapping me now, I totally deserve it) Hmmm.

Order and obedience. That's what this stupid system is based on. How many of you had in your primary school days was forced by your teachers to put your fingers to your lips, shouted at to shut up, punished just because you talked during lessons? Made to raise your hand to ask for permission to go to the toilet, where your teacher had the power to deny you? It's just absurd to think of it now. Denied of the right to even communicate or relieve yourself? Naturally it would not go well with people like me. I was beaten with that damn wooden ruler in primary 3 so many times that it broke once when I got tired of everything and pulled my hand back just as the teacher brought it crashing down to the table instead. Publicly humiliated in class, my books and bags thrown out by a furious teacher, forced to stand up and announce to the class my lousy marks, while she laughed and that bunch of girls whom she favoured giggled at me. Condemned to three years of solitary confinement by the same form teacher who made me sit alone right at the far end of the class so that I cannot talk to the rest. And the worst of all, being scolded and punished just because I dared to challenge the prefects and monitors who were abusing their powers while sucking up to the teacher, or to question the teacher's choice in choosing them in the first place.Gah.

All that come out from those painful years was the sweet revenge at the end of it all. When someone tells me that I cannot do something, I will prove it to you I can.I will never forget that day when those bunch of fools came up to me and asked my PSLE score. My reply wiped the smile off their faces. Even the teachers were shocked that I ended up as one of the school's top achievers. Heh.

I think this is why I ended up so badly when I went on to secondary one. The idea of cliques and friends had not occured to me yet. And I thought that I would be better off alone. I did attempt to make friends though, but it was too late. I guess those three years sitting alone in class probably harden me. I was the loser, and losers ended up bullied. Gah. And I guess it made the situation worse. Sigh.

But to look on the bright side, some good did come out from it all. Even those bleak and torturous years. I was able to find myself in the end. I might not be certain of what I really want yet, but at least I do know who I am, and to be proud of that. Heh. Now that's a great achievement yeah?XD

Hmm, I think I'm really ranting too much. Hahaa. Anyway, I started this entry because I heard my neighbour beating her son just now because he failed his test or something. And he's in EM3. =/


Screw the Singapore Education System. I will never make my kids go through that hell man.

Those days

This is the only photo I have of THE CLASS OF HOPE, taken after a crazy PE lesson with water bombs and stuff flying everywhere. Who can forget the class that had two of the funniest teachers in the level, *mimic petite Mrs Seah jumping about screaming "Monster!" followed by drawing horns on a mathematical mistake that we liked to make, Mr Gan and his "No future girls, no future" while shaking his head and waving his finger in the most comical manner* the class who had End Of Team Party every term without fail, thanks to our coolest teachers who sponsored stuff like pizzas (18 Boxes!!), much to the envy of all other classes. The only class who spent a term in the air conditioned old AVA room, sneaking off every now and then in between periods to buy food, then blatantly eating them in class, the cushions mania, the jacket fashion show, word search craze, driving a horrible English replacement teacher away, getting scolded by the english HOD who ended up laughing at my amused expression in exasperation, the only class in the whole school who got recognition for the BEST LOGO in the classroom painting compeition, that giant SPIDER WEB that scared off our teachers. Gosh. Now I really miss everyone. =)

Watching my junior college's FIRST ever sports day yesterday really send me hurling through memory lane. Especially after a bad morning with my mother which usually left me too empty to do anything else other than the need for some quiet self reflection. I find myself thinking of my secondary school's sports day, from those days of preparation, risking our lives to tie that giant house banner so that it will stand out from all the other houses, preparing the props and painting the banner, to the actual day itself, dancing that funny family dance (anyone still remembers those steps?), face painting, that really memorable march past where houses tried to out shout each other with our original cheers, teasing my friends from other houses, watching the really HOT cheerleaders which I still think is the best I had ever watched so far, swinging the house flag till my hands ached at the end of the day, cheers,cheers and more cheers. GO GO GO YELLOOOW!*Bongo drum beats*

Then my thoughts turned to my friends. The nine of us who did the craziest things together. Playing badminton EVERY recess, or sometimes it's basketball, table tennis or gym. Rushing out after the last lesson to watch movies. Betting on the most ridiculous things, telling each other the most hilarious jokes, those night study session days--Uncle Morbeen's iced tea, family lounge, beautiful sun sets, throwing coins and leaves into the pond hoping the fish will swallow them and die of poisoning, dinner at macdonalds (dont ever suggest macs to me unless there's no alternative, EVER) or the soyabean shop, then realising at the end of the day that the only productive thing we did was to laugh till our sides ached. Outings and more outings, from J8 or town during school days to beaches during holidays, swimming at Evelyn's place almost every week.(Haha,I think I became very fit due to that!)


Sigh. If only I can turn back time.