OK. Its been a long time.

Glenn and Lionel and Phuong havent been much help in Project Work. The first two did the original GPP (in which I gave LOADS of input and they just put in) which I had to do loads of edits on and after the teacher had a word with us I asked L. to do the edits after giving him a couple of pointers. He returned it to me all but unchanged. And he took hours to do even that. But it was good I guess, by then I was too worn out to touch it myself.

I don't think I even got into Debate Committee while this guy on the team was made President, and this other girl who's on probation for Student Council/Slaves is Vice-President. Hee hee. Very funny, seniors.

That Kuo Chuan Presbyterian Secondary Debate Clinic the CCA has roped us into is not very good. But the students we are working with are obliging and interested. Something I never expected.

I volunteered to spar with main team this week. Sparring was yesterday. It was exhausting but much, much better than what we usually did as a club before the trials (everybody thrown into the kitchen sink-format Debates).

Skipped Saturday CCA for the second week in a row.

The Troubles

One thing I know: I should not have taken physics.

It's awful. Things are awful and everyday I'm made to feel stupid.

My mother's called and arranged yet another physics tution (is that grammatically correct?--ought to convey the meaning clearly enough). Frankly I'd rather eat glass. I'd rather stay at home and sulk. I'd rather quit.

And whoo! Tomorrow's Friday and that means physics practical.

I want to leave this place. I don't know where for I just no longer want to stay here. I reme,ber earlier on, weeks, months ago my mother said I could go to United World College, now my dad says I can go off to this place in Australia to study--unfortunately both are very expensive and if I say that I'd like to go now, very seriously, sure as hell they're not going to let me. It's the way my life has always turned out. No way to escape it.

Next time I'll keep my trips at home

Today was dreadful. And it was a Friday.

Had a nervous breakdown in physics lab and did a big boo-hoo in front of the class. Too painful to recall. It was all the stupid experiment's fault, I was still fucking about with the equipment while everyone else was already merrily swinging marbles (yeah, swinging marbles was what the experiment was about) and then it was 4: 30 and time to pack up. I had almost finished the set-up.

The physics tutor doesn't give a shit about me or whether I'm learning anything or whether it's good for me to have lessons that make me so upset. He wasn't willing to address the whole problem about the practical and just told me: Oh it will get better...blathery blathery blah. He doesn't treat me like a human being. He and the maths tutor are really only interested in chatting up the scholars. They seem to have forgotten that their salaries come from the taxes people like my father and mother pay.

Yap Kian Wee and Lim See Poi. Bad karma is RUNNING after you in a Fury. And you can't do a thing about it.

Looks like its time to evade tax. I've had enough of this place.



On the more important stuff. I'm thinking of either switching subjects or changing my combination by dropping physics. I have no idea what on earth possessed me to take it. Oh yes, its the adults fucked me up. Just like how they did every other time.
Or I will quit school. To become a comic book artist. To go to Lasalle, NAFA or polytechnic. To think about what i should do with the weeks between now and almost certain death (because my luck's so bad that I can't even be let to die properly).

Seriously, I regret to ever coming to this school, and then my decision to stay. I hate the place.

I lost my glasses during swim PE. So I couldn't follow any of the lessons which came after. And I missed KI because its right after PE and I was too busy looking for my glasses, thankfully it was a test period, so I could make it up by doing the write-up during one of my free periods.

The girls' bathroom after swim PE smells of wet, dirty rubber, stale socks and old piss.

PW--poo

Glenn and Lionel are resorting to peer pressure. Making me agree to do their vulcanized rubber thing for Project Work and then turning round to insist I tell them how to do it. When I know absolutely nothx about rubber.

Never knew the opposite sex could get THIS bitchy--I thought I knew. And then I didn't.

I think I heard them complaining about me to their friends. That's taking it a little far ain't it?

Ordinary life

Yesterday I freaked out in the Project Work Room. I'm PW rep and and everybody is bloody irresponsible, especially Phuong. I had to go collect his PI from him, traipsing up to his GP lesson because the teacher wouldn't let him go. Maybe I should have just left him alone, would serve him a lesson in punctuality, time waits for no one, not even short Vietnamese scholars. I feel rather sick as well, he's in my PW group along with two other slackers.

Ack, CCA people are quite alright, as are those from my literature tutorial, but I barely see them.

And guess what? Today I asked a couple of harmless questions and the KI teacher just blew up...in the chilly way. I have no idea if it were Mohit or I who did it. And yet, even if it were me, maybe I'll never apologise for I don't see the reason for it.
Stupidly egotistical. Forgive me I'll grow out of it. All.

Thomas Blackburn

So, Thomas Blackburn,
I'll have to give it more than a cursory scan when I've got time,
Hospital For Defectives
By your unnumbered charities
A miracle disclose,
Lord of the Images, whose love
The eyelids and the rose
Takes for a language, and today
Tell to me what is said
By these men in a turnip field
And their unleavened bread.

For all things seem to figure out
The stirrings of your heart,
And two men pick the turnips up
And two men pull the cart;
And yet between the four of them
No word is ever said
Because the yeast was not put in
Which makes the human bread.
But three men stare on vacancy
And one man strokes his knees;
What is the meaning to be found
In such dark vowels as these?

Lord of the Images, whose love
The eyelid and the rose
Takes for a metaphor, today,
Beneath the warder's blows,
The unleavened man did not cry out
Or turn his face away;
Through such men in a turnip field
What is it that you say?






And for a hint of my darker impulses...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QkhJYsGsi4g
it's totally why guys shouldn't get near to me, I'll do something ba-ad to them.

I'm on a high tonight somehow.

I want to try LSD before I die


just kidding.

Dear computer/internet/whom it may concern...

A big F you. I can no longer assess my livejournal, on which I can conduct illicit secret activities which keep me very much alive.



And have I got something for you, sweet reader... http://food.oregonstate.edu/ref/culture/taboo_allen.html. I wonder what Father Saturn* tasted as he ate his children...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Goya_-_Saturno_devorando_a_su_hijo.jpg

*Roman counterpart of Chronos.





Complaint
For there are times when I wish to be
and yet not have the words to say.


And oh yeah, I'm no longer interested in getting into Students' Council, not really my thing...have to tell them Monday. No loss to them anyway, they've got no need for a wet blanket like me. OHoho.

Moan, groan, again

I can't believe I actually submitted a Students' Council form... I thought we'd already been through that. I had a talk with my KI teacher today, he told me basically stuff I already knew but hadn't really thought about--as in really thought, the way normal people would before they throw five bucks down the drain and set about photocopying and writing and photocopying.

Students' Council means Student Slaves, or Cheap Labour. And I know that...I know that...ahahaha, I mean, I've already seen how they've got to do all kinds of ushering crap during events, ie. Founder's Day, which I plan to skip next year.

Worse still, BOTH first and second- intake orientation made me really depressed. Like Bernard Marx in BNW, just that they're (the other kids) actually the ones who are most like the readers and I'm just a bloody wet blanket who can't HELP it. But hey, I like it...

But Student Slaves also means something I can put on my SGC (school graduating certificate)...it's a bit of a difficult choice, especially since I'd like to take H3 Literary Criticism and I still haven't gotten down to making any literature notes (for H2), and I've got Debate as a CCA (curse it all, it doesn't look too promising, I've been left out of the swing team for my own school's inter-cols--but there's always EXCO to look forward to, IF I get in). And plus, if I get into SC, I might be able to plan some not-so-corny events.

Bleargh.

Interesting superfluous point: when I went to hand in the form in SC room (Council Room, they call it, a really grand name for a place that's practically overflowing with cheap plastic cabinets and other junk--which is what happens when forty people share a little room), I saw the fellow who was in charge of my orientation group. He quickly went to the back of the room and disappeared from sight. I wonder whether or not there was a correlation in all this? And what does he think I could possibly do to him--say hi? (and hells no I wouldn't)

And there was some really annoying Christian pop song playing as well, called Hosanna (I know becuase they play it just about every Monday during chapel). As a result of this, I couldn't concentrate on my physics practical lesson which came afterward because it kept playing my head...and it's playing NOW, again--!!!