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.

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.

Life seems quite unfair at times

I feel old.
Dreadfully so. I've been looking up the blogs and journals of old classmates, from secondary school all the way back to primary. It seems their lives are on an upward path, blooming into the heartsickening beauty and joy of the bright gaudy hour. after which there is nothing. But for them, the present, the future life seems all there for the taking, there is at least some measure of happiness, some change for the better (although it would be practically impossible to become worse off than they were when they were "young", I'm not saying they've become better people or anything though).

Their legs have gotten longer.
Their faces have become "better", longer, ovalish, whiter.
They are going someplace, as in, they're going to graduate with better CCA records and marks than I will.
They have friends--or rather they can talk to their classmates because they're around the same level in terms of smarts and temperament.
They are going to have more fun than I ever did or will, although they don't deserve it. Becuase they are the same people who crushed me when I was still with them.
The list goes on. And in contrast, I feel old, or more accurately, as if I have never been young. The trajectory of my life seems to have been a long dormant miserable period as a retarded child, through an invisible leap to sudden old age. But in spite of this, nothing seems to have changed. I've remained what I was in face and figure, in fact, I have become heavier and that weight leaves me earthbound. I still don't do well in school. I have no friends and can't get along with the people in my class, or rather, they are indifferent towards me and my reaction is nothing because I can't bother with them.

I seriously wonder if I will spend the rest of my life stewing over unfulfilled ambitions, the wreck of dreams and suchlike. I too was once a child and as that child, I wondered who I would grow up to be. Certainly my dreams have changed, and so have times, but still. But still. The bitterness is there.



Daily life.
My Project Work Group.
I don't care if anyone sees their names, they are just names.
Glenn
Lionel
Phuong.

Just for the heck of it.

Luke-warm, wet pants

I got my shorts wet today. As part of an orientation game, I had to sit on a water bomb. And burst it. Disturbing stuff really.

Went on to perfect my tan (as I didn't have the time to apply the sunblock I had packed), secure a FEMALE dance partner for their sucky couple dance (good-o), do my KI diagnostic test (oh god, I DO hope I get in) and alot of other things.

I seriously believe by now that ACJC is run by anti-fags, they love to spoof them. It's rather cruel...and silly, I thought we'd all left that behind when we graduated from primary school (and the attendant confusion about sexuality), I mean, just LOOK at their MILK (Mainly I Love Kids--man, their grammar is TEH BADZ) promo ad and the second intake orientation video. But I kind of like the school, in fact, I like it more than I ever liked Crescent or RGPS. Nobody's picked on me or bullied me yet except for the occasional stupid jibe from stupids who don't even know me (okay, cool it now, it only LOOKED like a jibe from the corner of my eye, I don't KNOW for a fact...but then again nothing can be absolutely proven).

I think the kids here are cute...not physical appearances (a whole new ball-game, and I' NOT going to wear my heart on my sleeve), I just appreciate how (for lack of a better word) everyone is so lovable and non-threatening and...just good. I cannot generalise, I know that, but that's pretty much what I think of the people whom I have actually gotten a chance to speak to and spend time with.

For the benefit of those people whom I requested blog addresses from (I'm sure you thought I was voyeuristic or something, um, no not really), ...my orientation group is Harpy...and you can find a certain other person who wasn't in the same orientation group this time by searching the name up on blogsearch.

Um, I really appreciated the coordinators' efforts, for both the first and second time. And I found that all the people whom I spent the day with are really very (ah, I've lost my nerve, see? refer to paragraph above relating to schoolmates).




Shit, I'm a pathetic idiot.

Please knock on my little grey door.
Virginia Woolf to Isaiah Berlin