iN wOnDeRLaNd... wE'rE aLL MaD...

Sparrow B

2008-12-11T02:27:00.006+08:00

I understood today how unrequited love can be so tormenting and traumatic. I was reading the passage that made me realize that my love would never be reciprocated and I would never be important. I trembled and felt pressure all around. It was the first time that I felt like crying out loud and throwing objects, things I never understand why people on TV do. It was not really that exaggerated after all.

My mind revolved around this affair for the whole semester, making me like a crazy stalker. I was a sparrow four years back, not ready and too vulnerable. When we watched the sparrow on our first meeting, I thought it was time for me to be ready. Yet, I am still the same. I tried my best and I am still hurt, knowing the consequences all along.

I was just too foolish. We have little in common and little understanding, yet I'm totally infatuated. I have thought of things that could happen, things that could become reality but it was just a dream. I remember you calling me Bobby, I remember humming goodbye my love, I remember thinking about sapir-whorf, I remember wearing your slippers. Things so precious to me that would nonetheless be nothing to you.

Who they be, I don't really need to know. But I just wanted to know who they are, though I was never in a position to be jealous. It is not that important actually. I just hope I could recover from my addiction that is you, B.

An M holiday

2006-06-18T23:13:00.000+08:00

Sorry for procrastinating. I am finally back again.

I'll just start from the time when the exams ended. The semester ended really quickly and the prospect of having such a long three month holiday can be stressful for me. It became a huge burden on me to make full use of this period and not waste it like what I did to many other holidays.

The usual routine for many of those one month breaks are not very spectacular. Sleeping till I wake naturally, nibble my lunch for an hour and surf mindlessly or play silly games on the computer. Then I'll take another nap after I get dizzy from staring at the computer screen. I'll have my dinner and watch chinese drama serials and the day gets done just like that.

The day would be good if I get motivated enough to go for a jog, or passionate enough to play CDs and hold a concert, or lucky enough to go for a gathering or a date. It amuses some to see how awfully bland a person's life can be.

Thus when the exams ended, I was anxiously looking for a job. Brendan was with me to register with the job agencies and we went to 4 of them in an afternoon. The funny thing is that he went back to do his taka sales job right after that.

I was offered a surveyor job with the ministry of manpower and I accepted it only to know I was exploited by the agency. Nonetheless, it was a fairly good experience with enough flexibility for a piscean and a people-oriented job scope for the psychologist in me. I shall elaborate in later chapters.

The holiday is going pretty well. Its an M holiday: with movies, mahjong sessions, music lounges and the Ministry of Manpower.

The Egonerd Syndrome

2006-03-20T23:32:00.000+08:00

I self-diagnosed a mental illness recently which I shall name the egonerd syndrome. I shall analyse myself for this new-found illness for the benefit of all medical researchers and psychologists.

I have been getting terrible grades recently. It started with my philosophy term paper which I got 15/25. It most probably translates to a B- which I have difficulty accepting. It was such a horrific experience getting B-. I took a peek at other people's papers and found several 15's too. I hope our tutor had undermarked us and convert our raw scores to something more presentable.

Symptom 1: People suffering from the egonerd syndrome are unable to accept low academic grades and constantly look for clues to external factors that might have contributed to their failure.

Then I got back my Japanese paper which I scored 46/60. I was disgusted with how badly I failed my listening comprehension section. And I was scolding myself for changing to an incorrect answer for my reading comprehension section due to my indecisiveness. Seeing other people get 35 did not reduce my cognition of how badly I have done and hearing other people getting 50+ disturbs me.

Symptom 2: People suffering from the egonerd syndrome are perfectionists who have high expectations of themselves. They desire to be amongst the top scorers and are in considerable stress when they are unable to do so.

Then I got back my 2nd stats test which I have deproved from 27.5/30 to 22/30. It has made my mood foul since then. However, I remind myself that there are people with single digit scores who are worse than me.

Symptom 3: People suffering from the egonerd syndrome tend to look for people who scored badly to boost their unstable self-esteem.

I was doing a take-home quiz and checked my answers with my friend. I was particularly sure of most of my answers that I took effort to find out and dismissed my friend's different answer as wrong.

Symptom 4: People suffering from the egonerd syndrome are self-righteous about their academic work and despise those who had different answers that they think are wrong.

Conclusion: People suffering from the egonerd syndrome are basically egoistical nerds who are self-righteous, disgusting and are obsessed with getting high academic grades.

Am I suffering from the egonerd syndrome? Am I this disgusting? Why would scoring high in a silly test matter to anyone. It eventually means nothing and no one will remember it.

Emphasis should be placed on more important things like understanding people, reciprocating smiles and listening to stories of joys and woe. There is no need to get too uptight about grades. Rather, live frivolously and succulently and you will find that it means much more than a silly grade for your intellectual ability.

Understand people. Why do nerds love to study so much? Why do they take pride in doing better than other people? Here is a little insight:

Once there was a man who made metal balls. His metal balls are the best in the world. They are the roundest and the weight is equivalently spread out throughout the ball. No one could make better metal balls than him.

Nevermind that he is ugly, poor, unathletic, useless and has no friends. He still makes the best metal balls in the world. Metal balls are his life and he constantly maintains and improves his skill in making metal balls.

Then one day, the king came and declared that there is someone else who made better metal balls than him. This usually reserved and quiet man turned mad and threw his metal ball at the king and killed him.

The moral of the story is: Don't just make metal balls, make metal forks, spoons, knives, plates, pots and pans too.

To act my age

2006-03-10T23:12:00.000+08:00

Oh one month already? I seem to be updating this blog on a monthly basis. Guess I should work harder than that.

It was a good month. All of a sudden I was 22. Neo and Charlie were so nice to treat me dinner and we also played that 'spot the difference game' at the arcade which was so much fun. At least for me. I guess I do not like anything too stimulating anyway and crazy ecstatic overnight parties are a little incomprehensible for me. Well, I passed that stage without even a chance to try anyway.

The dinner with my family was not so great as I was bothered with some silly cognition and threw a little tantrum. I just wished my mental age could catch up with my biological one. Other than that, it had been a quiet birthday for a quiet person.

The good thing is I did not study as much during this mid-term compared with the previous one. Or is this a bad thing? Well, it does not really matter. The social psych presentation was surprisingly fun though since I thought it would be a much detested chore. The preparations were minimal and the presentation in the form of skits reminded me of earlier days where I had so much fun acting. I just hope future presentations can be like this too.

TransAmerica was nice. Felicity Huffman acted so well. It was not easy for a woman to act as a man who wants to be a woman. Or simply, there is a certain difficulty when you are trying to be something you are not. I always thought I was rather good at acting but I discovered I was just being my true self. I am not very good at being something I do not want to be.

Brokeback mountain was a tad too boring and should be called laidback mountain instead. But it was a nice show on the whole..

This birthday was the first one that I did not make a wish over lighted candles. Perhaps I shall make one here. I wish I could become everything that I do not think I can be. Or at least, I would be able to act like one.

I Don't Want to Live on the Moon

2006-02-14T23:32:00.000+08:00

I love songs from preschool tv programmes like Barney and Sesame Street! A lot of them are nice melodies and the lyrics are cool and rhyming. The unique voices of the various characters enliven the song too. Think Kermit the frog, I always thought he sang well. And of course here is my favourite Ernie with a really wonderful song!

I Don't Want to Live on the Moon

Written by Jeff Moss
1978 Festival Attractions, Inc. (ASCAP)
Sung by Ernie (Jim Henson)

Well, I'd like to visit the moon
On a rocket ship high in the air
Yes, I'd like to visit the moon
But I don't think I'd like to live there
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I might like it for one afternoon
I don't want to live on the moon

I'd like to travel under the sea
I could meet all the fish everywhere
Yes, I'd travel under the sea
But I don't think I'd like to live there
I might stay for a day there if I had my wish
But there's not much to do when your friends are all fish
And an oyster and clam aren't real family
So I don't want to live in the sea

I'd like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar
Go back in time and meet a dinosaur
There's so many strange places I'd like to be
But none of them permanently

So if I should visit the moon
Well, I'll dance on a moonbeam and then
I will make a wish on a star
And I'll wish I was home once again
Though I'd like to look down at the earth from above
I would miss all the places and people I love
So although I may go I'll be coming home soon
'Cause I don't want to live on the moon
No, I don't want to live on the moon

An Anniversary

2006-02-12T23:46:00.000+08:00

It was a year ago when I decided to take a step out into a new world. A world where I hoped for a glimpse of hope and happiness. A world where I hoped for comfort and solace. There was a little. Nothing more than a fleeting moment, all too short-lived and superficial.

Substantial incidents have occured since then. Memories that I treasure and deeds that I regret. It is a harsh world that I can never fully comprehend.

I discovered I am not prepared yet. But if not now then when? I will have to work harder to prepare myself then, be it an excuse or a necessary stage. Or perhaps I expected to find something so extraordinary that I missed all the simplistically beautiful.

There is still ample to explore and plenty to hope for. It might be exhausting to run in circles but you never know what you find when you run back again.

Happy Anniversary. A miracle might just happen.

First Step

2006-02-10T23:53:00.000+08:00

Declan walked today!

Happy New Tutor

2006-02-05T22:36:00.000+08:00

Tuition starts again today after the new year break. Seriously, it got pretty dry teaching the siblings after these few months. It was quite exhausting to teach for four hours straight too. The elder sis is progressing well but the younger brother is just not serious with his work and has a weak foundation accumulated from last year.

There is a lesson in psychology that proposed a correlation between a teacher's expectations of a student and their subsequent improvement in grades. When some teachers were made to believe that some random students were going to 'blossom', these students indeed improved more substantially than other students.

This could be due to the change in perception of the teacher, who will call on the selected students more frequently, expect answers of a higher standard, give more feedback and encouragement and criticise less in contrast with the other students.

It seems I am already biased with my two students, considering I only give homework to the boy. But it's all for his good, ya? I already have the perception innate and it is very difficult to avoid it even if I do make a conscious effort. It is like you say you are not racist but you will still walk away and avoid a group of malay boys...

Come to think of it, the boy must really hate me. For two hours a week he is stuck with a skinny and geeky teacher who speaks boring math in a high pitched voice whom he can easily crush to death with his own weight. (The siblings are a little to the plump side.)

As with the new year tradition, I expected their mother to give me an angbao and she really did. I was opening it in the bus home and was expecting something like $4. And what a pleasant surprise I got! I discovered a few red notes inside.. all five of them crisp and new. The auntie gave me a $50 angbao!

Guess it does urge me to teach harder. Must help them improve their grades and be a happy new tutor!

To be an Independent Variable

2006-02-02T22:49:00.000+08:00

I discover that my feelings can be easily influenced by other people. Anyone including complete strangers and anything that they say or do can have an effect on my mood.

I became so dependent on the attitudes of other people to determine my mood that happiness became so unpredictable and beyond control.

Is there someone whom I can derive happiness from? An endless, stable source that I can leech on to feed my melancholy.

But how can I let someone determine my happiness? It might even be better to rely my happiness on a piece of bak kwa.

It is too risky and too dangerous. Happiness should come from within oneself to be real and reliable.

I not Stupid

2006-01-18T22:51:00.000+08:00

I was taking the MRT one afternoon during off-peak hours and was spying on the people around. An auntie who lived in cck was taking care of a 3 year old boy living in tampines whom she did not give birth to and she was talking to a 70 year-old grandma. ( I think I'm really getting good at spying on people.)

She then told the grandma how naughty the boy was and also how smart he is. The boy would run all over the place and climb to shocking heights. At home, he can dictate the whole alphabet and name the fruits. Nothing gives pride to adults more than wonderful children they own.

Sometimes when adults fail in fully realising their own capabilities, the wish is extended to their children, thus placing high hopes on them to succeed in what they could not.

I cannot help but feel jealous and also anxious for my nephew who is not on par with other children his age. He is almost 28 months old and still does not know how to walk but perpetually hang on to walls, furniture, hands and legs. My sisters and I started walking at around one years of age. Declan must really start walking soon for my parents are having a hard time carrying this big bag of rice around.

I think Declan will grow up becoming obsessed with cars like many boys do. One of his first words was 'ka'.. and he identifies it when he sees one. He would point to pictures of and also moving cars, trucks and buses and calls them 'ka'. He would also pat his chest and say 'pa' when he heard loud noises, like my sneezing for example. I don't know if he meant it as being afraid but there was a period when he kept doing that. His other favourite words would be 'ma' and 'mum mum', his two greatest loves presently.

That probably is the extent of his vocabulary list. Sounds like a long way from singing the alphabet and naming fruits. That's why I can't help but worry.

I have to blame myself for not talking to him very often and neglecting him half the time. He would probably learn Cantonese from my parents which is a great thing. Yet I hope he would not have problems with English and Mandarin and be effectively bilingual. Perhaps I could teach him Japanese too since he can start asking questions with 'ka' which is the question word in Japanese.

I think it is good to expose him to many languages at this early age. For the first few years he might use the various languages like they were one and become a whole messy 'rojak' language. But by 5 or 6 years, he would be able to differentiate between the languages. That is how I learnt Cantonese: just by people speaking it to me.

Yet, I think too far. Declan can't even say a, b, c.

Declan has an acute sense of hearing though. He is observant and knows what is going on around him. Something I never learnt even at my age.

I think I should take him for more walks and speak more languages to him. There are so many things that are beyond me and I just hope to see them realised in him.

First Transcript

2005-12-23T23:52:00.000+08:00

Here are my results for my first semester in NUS:

LAJ2101 JAPANESE 1 ----------------------------------------A

PL1101E INTRODUCTION TO PSYCHOLOGY --------------A
JS1101E INTRODUCTION TO JAPANESE STUDIES -------A-
SC1101E MAKING SENSE OF SOCIETY ---------------------B+
SW1101E INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL WORK -------------B+

CAP: 4.5

Only two of the exams are in essay format and I got B+ for both of them. I guess I'll be getting Bs when the future exams mostly require me to write essays. Meanwhile, I shall be proud of my CAP score while I still can, before it gets pulled down by next semester.

Birthday Blues

2005-12-12T22:28:00.000+08:00

The December babies sure waited long to turn 21. Attended two birthday celebrations recently, Verlyn's one on the 8th and Kian Seng's one yesterday. I guess it can be quite touching to see all the friends you have made in the past 21 years in one single night. Friends who have stayed on throughout the years and are making an effort to spend an evening for your special day.

Verlyn sure had loads of friends, especially those from St John. You can always trust people who used to wear the same uniform as you to enliven your party. For guys, nothing beats the army pals..

I wonder when has it become customary to take group pictures before cutting the cake. The birthday boy or girl stands behind the cake and goes back in time to fetch favourite friends from various eras to take a snapshot for memory. It is like as if you are living your whole 21 years once again.

I wonder if I were to hold such a party, who would I invite and will they turn up? Perhaps I shall just take a ride back in time and see who I really miss..

My Guest List

Bedok Town

Xuehui. Well, guess it's reasonable to invite a best friend?

Joanette. I know her since kindergarten! Then to the same primary school, secondary and JC. 16 years already and still counting! But haven't talked to her for ages..

Clara. I remember we used to have happy times together.

Zhiwen. I just remember our longest telephone conversation was 6 hours.

Zhongxian. We used to play pranks on people..

Tianyou. My rival who topped the school with me? Oh.. those were the days. So sorry I didn't turn up for your 21st birthday party!

Felicia. I think it's nice to invite a celebrity... 美人鱼！

Dunman High

Jamie. My 最佳拍档。 How could you just leave me like that... who else can I sing a duet with?

Marianna Peixin. My favourite ah lian. Haha.. always call me meepok..

Junyang. Even though you always call me 变态. You are still quite nice..

Zhimin. Oh, Seetoh the smart girl who is so easy to talk to..

Agnes. You were the one who screamed to invite me to NUS. So touched.

Sterling. Do you still like Buffy?

Shuhui. My Guai Gia Gang buddy..

Edward. Another Guai Gia Gang buddy..

Verlyn. One of the rare few I can talk to.

Brendan. You're the rogue while I'm frivolous ya?

Elizabeth. So producer, when is our next film?

Xiongwei. nice guy.. just go easy with the insults ya? haha..

Zhengru. Well, you were present for everyone's birthday..

Hong Yui. We love Japan! かわいにほんがすきです！

Army

Peck. I love listening to your ramblings. You are welcomed anytime.

Ivan. My best pal during BMT I would say.

Junjie. I'll play jazz during my party, ok?

Zuwei. Michael Buble was good!

Chung Hei. It would be great if I had known you earlier during JC days ya?

Luke. Oh.. luke.. we are closer these days ya? heehee.. ;)

Alpha guys! you are all invited! especially,

my mahjong kakis: Neo, Joseph and Charlie

those who so took care of me: Raymond, Daniel and Ruifang

my NE partner! Venkat!

my favourite commanders: Eugene, Jianlong

those so lovable and easy to talk to: David, Kian Seng, Jiewen, Tholmas, Melvin, Khoo

driving partner during terrible Ops Bascinet: Hock Yam

Wallaby pal: Weitang

Teri-jie.. we almost got killed together during Wallaby!

Shem-jie.. for understanding me..

Encik.. for taking care of me..

Everyone.. except for that Ba Geh!

NUS

JS project mates! fellow Minamata victims: Michelle, Xping, Matthew, Ivan

Japanese がくせい: Ying Ting-san, Joy-san, May Lian-san.

WenJuan: Must go sing again next time!

Mark and Vincent: Thanks for accompanying me.

Jitsy: fellow Psych major

Miscellaneous:

Margaret. My fellow talent scout colleague. Surprised we are quite alike and can communicate well with each other.

Aaron. Well, you were nice to me before.

David. Thanks for keeping me company with your messages.

Junxian. You are like my didi... haha.

Tianyang. Another one who is easy to talk to.

And many others...

Seriously speaking, I do not have a lot of close friends but I sometimes delude myself into thinking I have a lot. Wenjuan sent me this message recently:

突然发现想在晚上打电话找人聊天时电话簿里的电话好像不够多。

Not enough numbers in her phonebook to call and have a chat at night? I replied to her that there is no need to have a lot of numbers, just a few will do..

How I would love to have a few numbers I can call every night...

New Detox Method

2005-12-04T13:36:00.000+08:00

It has been a long time since I am struck down ill and dying. Apparently I ate something wrong yesterday that totally screwed up my digestive system.

The spring chicken I had yesterday reminded me of my Army days when Joseph and I always share one for some of our supper treats. This version from near my home was different as it was practically drenched in oil, all oozing out as you peel and bite into it. I had two drumsticks and assorted pieces and even stuffed the bag of fries down my throat, though it was soggy and oily.

I felt an unusual bloatedness as I went to bed and could hardly catch a wink. So many things are nagging inside my head, the symptom when something is wrong. At last, I decided I should just get rid of it by going to the toilet.

I managed to release a little tension but the nauseous feeling did not go away. I just know that I have to let it go from where it has entered. I was pretty skilled at this from past experiences anyway. I started vomiting out bits and pieces of yellow, the second purge came a pool of dark brownish minced meat in pasta sauce, and the final one came in a reddish hue of tomato.

I went to bed with a stomach still half bloated but half relieved. The chanting was more obvious now. It was not some other person chanting but it was my own thoughts continuously floating and repeating in my mind. I was not allowed to clear my head even though I tried so hard.

Maybe I am suffering from bulimic nervosa. Or perhaps my stomach has punctured or my intestinal walls have been ripped, causing me to spew blood covered half-digested chicken.

I hardly slept for the later half of the night and when it was 8 in the morning, I made another trip to the toilet. I then realised my stomach was law-abiding and righteous and had no intents of letting the other half of illegal immigrants pass through the customs. I was shocked to find myself puking black liquid and remnants of past meals in another three purges.

My appetite is recovering and I'm glad that I have not become aversed to food. I was not sure what caused the upset and I never saw a doctor for my morbid fear of them. I did run down with a slight fever that I kept in check with two pills.

Speaking of two pills, I remembered my mother giving me two pieces of candy I was not sure exactly when. But when I saw the packaging I noticed a possible blunder I could have made. The candy was actually gum and had to be disposed off! I honestly do not remember spitting it out, though I might have forgotten. The candy was small and quite easily swallowed though. Perhaps I had really swallowed chewing gum!

I would never find out if I really did but I guess it was not too bad to clear your stomach once in a while. It is something like detox isn't it?

Birds of a Feather Flock Together

2005-12-01T22:25:00.000+08:00

I was drifting aimlessly on the net this afternoon when David greeted me on msn. Like so many other humans our age, he was troubled with feelings of the heart recently as well. He was being so negative it was unusual considering his gregarious and jolly nature.

Come to think of it, I felt the same way as well. Some people are just so perfect. They have good looks, nice bod, an angelic personality to match, coupled with intelligence and charisma, not to mention the extra cash stuffed in their pockets. You start treating these people with a love and hate attitude. While you become jealous of their possessions, they are also great friends to be with and some inadvertently become objects of desire.

I know no one is perfect but I am like SO not perfect and it troubles me from time to time. It makes you feel limited in what you can offer to your partner, to the extent that you become scared of being an embarassment. It is never easy finding someone who likes you for who you are.

For my friends having relationship problems, and so many of you are, I shall deliver a psychology lesson on attractiveness. What exactly determines attractiveness?

A reason why ugly people do not remain single forever is due to the Matching Hypothesis. It is the prediction that people will seek partners who are similar to themselves in physical attractiveness (Nevid, 2003).

To put it simply, beautiful people get beautiful partners while ugly people will seek ugly people for companion. That is why Hagrid, the giant in Harry Potter, still finds romance in a gigantic school mistress.

Sometimes, I wonder if the beautiful people make more beautiful babies and ugly people make uglier babies and in time to come, it will widen the gap between beautiful people and ugly people? Perhaps the government could pair the ugly with the beautiful to reduce this disparity? (It's amazing what nonsense people can churn when they are bored ya?)

So does that mean that if you are ugly, you have to make do with an obese girlfriend? Not neccessarily so, because in the case of mismatches that refutes the matching hypothesis, the less attractive partner usually compensates by having greater wealth or social position than the more attractive partner (Berscheid & Reis, 1998).

To put it simply, if you are ugly, you had better be rich.

One key to attractiveness is symmety. Faces having symmetrical and regular features are universally perceived as more attractive (Buss & Kenrick, 1998).

Well, does that mean that if I have a mole near the left side of my nose, I should fake another one on the other side? Perhaps guys should start piercing their right ear too...

People like women to have faces with more feminine features. Surprisingly, both men and women generally found male faces with more feminine features to be more attractive (Angier, 1998b).

That explains the F4 phenomenon. Ugly men need not go for cosmetic surgery, a cheaper alternative would be to leave your hair long. (To hide the face that is.)

Another factor is that of proximity. Proximity increases the chances of interacting with others and getting to know them better, thus providing a basis for developing feelings of attraction toward them (Nevid, 2003).

So if you really like someone, stick to him/her like a parasite and engage in their activities. Birds of a feather DO flock together. And don't forget to leave your hair long as well.

PS. Regarding my previous post which has caused so much trauma to many people, I shall clarify: I DID NOT HAVE SEX. Not unprotected at least. Just kidding!

Forgot my medication

2005-11-30T22:54:00.000+08:00

Once upon a time, I started this blog as a writing project and is my cure for mental instability. Unfortunately, I forgot my medication for almost two months.

I was busy with "that" that shall not be named. Everyone knows what that is and it strikes fear in everyone's hearts. I managed to defeat it on 28 Nov and it left a lightning bolt scar on my left butt.

The past month or so was nothing much really. Other than the police caution for petty theft, schizophrenic hallucinations after midnight and unprotected sex on three occasions, there really wasn't anything much.

For this coming holiday season, keep a lookout for a series of exciting entries coming your way. Just a sneak preview: a full length coverage on vanity; my ugliest past disclosed; my mathematical proof on why I am of acceptable weight, including you!

It's funny I just don't write about normal everyday affairs that most other bloggers write about. I just find it funny telling people what I ate today and who I went out with tonight. Perhaps that is because I always eat at home and no one goes out with me. So there really isn't anything in my life substantial enough for me to write about.

Yet, I revel in the littlest bit of information that people write in their blogs: what they ate, drank and had fun with. It satisfied my innate curiosity without being intrusive and was a platform for me to be jealous of what other people have in their lives that I could only desire.

I will try to write as much about my everyday life as I can. However, I will not stop writing my blogs in my own personalised style even if I write about the mundane. It is this style of a little truth exaggerated, a little false contained, laden with nonsense and a little ingredient X. Yet, there is a moral to every story.

Well, it is Wonderland after all.

Unrequited Love and Secret Agendas

2005-09-14T23:10:00.000+08:00

I love my handphone number. It is easy to remember and it contains my favourite numbers 9 and 25. I think I will probably use it for the rest of my life.

The previous user to the number is David, a fact which I gathered from numerous 'wrong numbers' I received till now. I also infer him to be of Indian descent and a male executive in his early thirties. I can imagine him having a well-trimmed beard, wearing neatly pressed striped shirt and shiny leather shoes.

His friend Moira messaged him on Monday using my number, asking him to call her when he is free. I was feeling friendly then and replied her with this:

Hey Moira! This is
the new user to
this hp number.
David no longer
uses this no. You
have to find other
ways to contact
him. Good luck!

Yet for all the warmth I tried putting into the message, all I received was:

Thanks

I was totally devastated and heart-broken.

Alright, I was exaggerating but how often have your intense passions been extinguised by unspontaneous responses? How often have your initiative been met with indifference? As Moulin Rouge philosophy puts it: "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return."

Yesterday, I received another message from an unknown person:

Meeting 10 tomolo?

I thought that it must be one of David's flings again. I asked who it was and when the person replied, I discovered that I made a big mistake. It was my BMT mate YL. He called me last Sunday to make a breakfast appointment today. I had forgotten all about it and never even save his number in my handphone. I felt so guilty about it. If he had not messaged me, he would be there waiting for me.

I have already decided to go to school early to do some stuff and I tried to postpone the meeting. However, he started reprimanding. He wondered how people actually think these days. Making empty promises. Giving excuses at the last minute. Prioritising other things over friends. Is that the way people treat friends? he asked.

He said that he had an overseas posting at Brunei for 1.5 years and have not met up with his friends for a long time. He needed desperately the support of his friends and took the opportunity of this one week break to meet up with friends and reminisce. Yet people are constantly busy or simply not interested. I have failed in reciprocating friendship this time.

He struck my conscience and we met at 1130 for lunch today. We talked about lots of things. We related to each other about life after BMT. He has three dependent younger brothers and the financial strain on his parents was rather substantial. That is why he volunteered to go for overseas posting where the pay is much higher so that he can ease the burden. Then, he started to talk about dreams. He wished to earn big money so that he can let his parents retire early after slogging all their lives for their four sons.

He then asked what my plan for the future was and I was evasive as usual. He questioned if I ever thought of doing something for my parents for all that they have done for me. I was never a big fan of long-term plans and I gave general answers to shake him off.

He started talking about the need to become financially stable to provide for my parents. He went on to ask if I have read "Rich Dad, Poor Dad". Then about getting out of the rat-race. Then about workshops that help you to do that. He said that NUS do have such workshops but tickets are priced at $60. Then he said he has one that is just $5.

So all that emotional outpour, all that psychological manipulation, is just to make me meet him and hear him beat around the bush and eventually introduce me to this valuable and insightful workshop at a cheap price? I never thought that he will actually have a secret agenda up his sleeves. It is so depressing. I never agreed to go for the workshop.

I wondered if Moira has a secret agenda for David as well.

The Devil's Trap

2005-09-09T14:48:00.000+08:00

Numbness to a heinous act,
Soul was lost in a faraway land.
Deepest shame before a stark fact
Lying naked in the Devil's hand.

An eventual manifest of a barren world,
Catalysed with naivety in cherubic archers,
Has brought life to a senseless twirl
Around the snores of disappointing lechers.

Blinded by the light of lust,
Stolen of the preserved chaste.
That no amount of fairy dust,
Could turn back time to undo the haste.

Impregnated with an evil seed
that germinates into shoots of guilt
and spreads around like infectious weed
over the white fields painstakingly built.

The empty shell is left unfilled.
The aimless soul lingers on
with no news of living or killed
in a battle neither lost nor won.

Foolishly obeyed a self-crafted map,
To fall right into the Devil's trap.

Taro

Five Six... Pick Up Sticks...

2005-08-29T23:19:00.000+08:00

Venkat messaged me today to tell me that he saw Master Lian in the train. Master Lian is the notorious old man with a snobbish mole who oversees my army camp's cookhouse. He roams around the cookhouse during meals and makes unintelligible bellows from time to time. With backing from evil and influential HQ office ladies, he bullies the cookhouse aunties and uncles and makes life difficult for poor soildiers in charge of rations. I was once under the power of his malicious presence.

I just hate it when he shouts at the aunties and uncles. It makes my blood boil when he is terrorising Neo, our hyperventilating CSM PA. It prompted me to do one of the few righteous things that I have done so far.

Once when he was helping out to serve some satay, I noticed that he was not wearing any gloves like the rest of the workers. So I went up to him and told him in Mandarin, "Master Lian, if you want to serve, can you wear gloves? It's very unhygenic to use your bare hands."

Master Lian was totally embarassed and pissed off. He put down the food immediately and went to the side, lost for words. My friends were shocked at my actions. The aunties and uncles were so amused they kept on laughing. One uncle even noted my name and said that he wanted to promote me to 2nd Lieutenant.

It was hardly a thing a corporal would do to a master sergeant. There were more conflicts later on and even led to an email attack between our units. It was the first time I got so offensive for the sake of upholding justice. It was so much fun.

Now I kind of miss the days back in camp, where life is so much simpler and there are fewer things to be troubled with. The life can even be spiced up with occasional quibbles with master sergeants. There is no need to worry about food and I always get to eat at fixed times.

In NUS, life loses the discipline. I sleep late, wake up late, have irregular meals and I hardly exercise. Not to mention panic attacks, depression, paranoia and anorexia. The good thing is that my brain is working a little more.

I remembered we were each given four sticks of satay every time the rare treat is served. Eugene taught me how to place these four sticks in such a way that they are fixed together even when you are just holding one stick. I had difficulty doing it and I could never figure out how. My sis bought home some satay today and I tried doing it. It took me a while before I finally did it myself! Eugene wasn't there to help me this time. The formation looked like this:

Notice how each stick manages to either 1) get below two sticks and above the third or 2) get above two sticks and below the third. Now you can hold any one stick up and the whole structure remains. You can make lots and lots of them and imagine them like little houses or mini chrismas trees.

School does do wonders to your brain.

The Japanese Freak

2005-08-27T16:23:00.000+08:00

Did I mention that there were changes to the modules I took? I have dropped Eng Lit to take the Japanese language instead. I guess I was intimidated by all the books I have to read in just a few months. I remember I took 2 years in secondary school to study three books. And they are expecting us to cover and study in depth like 6 books in 4 months? That is like one book for every two lectures!

People say that it is possible to cope but I still chickened out. It was not a bad choice though as I took up Japanese, which is what I always wanted to learn. I enjoyed the japanese tutorials most by the way. But it is really quite intensive, with 2 hour lectures and 5 hour tutorials every week and lots of preparation to do, I find myself studying Japanese more than any other subjects.

And with so many hours of tutorials, my timetable planning is all screwed up. However, I still managed to squeeze everything into the first four days and leave Friday free. I just need it so much. Going to and fro between my house and school is simply exhausting.

And yes, I am taking Japanese studies and Japanese at the same time. I am such a Japanese freak. Yea, somebody called me that. I don't know but I just love how the Japanese words sounded in their songs. I like the exquisite Japanese cuisines and the quirky Japanese drama serials. I like their outlandish fashion sense and cute culture.

Perhaps I should make plans to go for exchange in Japan. It would be great just to be away from NUS for a semester and try something different you know. Meanwhile, I have to try to remember my katakana, when i have barely mastered my hiragana. Japanese is just so troublesome.

What can you get with $4?

2005-08-22T22:38:00.000+08:00

I have a terrible sense of time judgement. That is why I always end up late. Not to mention I take outrageously long to prepare myself to go out. I have been taking taxi from clementi to school for quite a few times already. Do you know that it costs consistently $4 to take a cab from clementi to NUS?

For the first time, the fare was $4.10. I deliberately gave $10 to the driver so that he will not bother to give me $5.90 but $6.00 instead, thereby saving ten cents. Don't you think I am cheapskate? But every cent is important to me now since I am living purely on the $360 I get from my tuition job. And I still have the audacity to take a cab because I delayed in going out. Must hit myself on the head.

Then, for the second time, the fare was $4.20. I tried the same trick again but the Malay driver asked if I have 20 cents. Okay.. so it does not work all the time. Then for the third time, the driver was cool enough to beat two traffic lights and cruised to NUS clocking a fare of $4 exactly.

I was thinking about a new service implementation. There should be a taxi stand where late NUS students can gather to share a cab. Then with 4 people sharing, each person will just have to pay a dollar! Isn't that wonderful?

My Scientific Report on the First Day of School as an Arts student

2005-08-09T18:02:00.000+08:00

Aim: To analyse my first day of school as an Arts student

Hypothesis:

As I only have a two hour social work lecture, I expected it to be rather uneventful. I pictured it to be something like this: me travelling more than an hour to school, loiter around a bit, enter the lecture room, sit alone at some corner, listen to an old man talk for two hours and obediently head my way back home.

Experimental results:

Was travelling on the MRT when a panic attack striked because I realise I did not prepare anything for the lecture and wondered if there was anything to prepare in the first place. I called up Margaret, my fellow talent scout colleague who was also a second year arts student majoring in social work, to reassure myself.

I reached school and alighted at the central library instead to see if I could get some books but was overwhelmed by the queue.

Went to the lecture room and sat next to a guy and two girls. I talked to them a little. The guy offered me a sweet.

The old man was much younger and he only talked for slightly more than an hour.

I did not go home yet. Margaret invited me to her friend's birthday party at Munchie Monkeys cafe. There were a few social work and a few psychology majors there. All extremely amiable and typical church-goers. Ate the Al Funghi pasta and a piece of birthday cake.

Discovered it was weird of me celebrating a birthday for a total stranger and I excused myself to go to the bookstore to get my books.

Went to watch fireworks with conrad. See attached research photographs:

The fireworks was magnificent and I furiously took pictures with my camera. Conrad was even reminding me to watch the fireworks and stop taking pictures of it.

Then Conrad sent me home with his motorbike. It was my first time riding and the feeling was good. In fact, it was great.

Overview:

Inferences:

The panic attacks can just get more frequent in the coming weeks. I must admit I am rather stressed out even though the real pressure is not really here yet. It is the anticipation of fear more than fear itself that chills me to the core. I have been sleeping a lot to avoid the reality and is generating much guilt and anxiety in the process. I am working hard to get my engines started and I hope I can keep it going.

However, I discovered that I am not as shy as before. I have always been morbidly allergic to strangers. Yet I have been making reasonably engaging conversations with quite a few people recently.

I was enlightened by the burst of fireworks. I discovered that I have been focusing on the wrong objectives all this while. I never live in the moment. When happy and exciting events come, I take so much effort trying to preserve and prolong it and before I could succeed, it is already gone.

I should instead, just enjoy what comes along the way. It does not matter if it is short-lived like the fireworks. The fireworks are beautiful all the same even if it is just for that instant. The fireworks display will come one after another and we are supposed to enjoy it, not take pictures of it.

Theorem: The strength of the wind while travelling in a vehicle is directly proportional to the amount of exposure to the environment your vehicle is subjecting you to.

*Riding on a motorbike is just so shiok.

Were you a Fool?

2005-08-01T22:19:00.000+08:00

Inaugurated today as an NUS undergrad. Nothing can be more official than a ceremony with corny pledges and funny professors donned in academic regalia. It could have been more magical like Harry Potter enrolling in Hogwarts if only there were medieval castles and hairy broomsticks. However, reality always fall short and the freshman inauguration ceremony is just a simple affair with its significance purely symbolic. It symbolises the start of a new phase, the beginning of university life.

Went to the ceremony with Pek, a rather interesting guy from my BMT days. I really have to thank him for accompanying me to school these few days. As I was previously from the Science stream, most of my friends do not become as radical as me to go to arts in university. Most of the guys from my unit are going to engineering as well. Thus, I am all alone to fend for myself.

Finally took out my tarot cards again. It has been some time since I practised it. I did three readings today, for Pek, Luke and his friend Zin whom I've just befriended. It has been a positive experience and I'm glad that I have not lost touch with tarot.

The Fool signifies new beginnings and the start of things. A perfect representation of today's inauguration. Pek also mentioned that he was like the Fool, the jester, always fooling around like a clown and prefers to remain as an observer of the action going on.

The Fool is one of my favourite cards as well. The Fool listens to his heart even if people accuses him of being silly. He is forthcoming and spontaneous and is a child at heart. He embraces uncertainty and will pursue his dreams despite the risks. I have always wanted to be like him.

I have always thought that I would be taking business admin at NUS, probably an influence from my sister. This time, I am following my heart like the fool. This time, I have decided on the course of my path even though it is unfamiliar. I am intending to major in psychology and I hope I have made the right choice.

Everyone started as fools you know.

Through the Looking Glass

2005-07-30T19:12:00.000+08:00

Being severely myopic, my spectacles have always been an integral part of me. I started wearing them at a tender age, some time during lower primary and I am stuck with it ever since. I just had a new pair of spectacles today! It is slim and squarish and also brown to suit my hair colour. How do you like me wearing it?

My myopia has yet to stabilise and is currently registering at 775 degrees on the right and 400 degrees on the left with slight astigmatism on the left eye as well. Sounds like a case of lazy eye or the retribution of watching tv while lying on my right. I thought of making some of those frameless spectacles but the optometrist said the thickness of my lenses will show. For a person like me with such a high degree of short-sightedness, contact lenses are a god-send.

I started wearing contact lenses only towards the end of last year. I had so much difficulty putting them on at first that I always end up wearing back my glasses, feeling sad and dejected. It was a period of poking and rinsing before I got the hang of it and voila! The world is no longer through a looking glass where your world is filtered. Everything becomes clearer. The beauty of people and also the ugliness of them.

Sometimes, it is pleasurable to put on those rose-coloured glasses again to see people in a positive light. Focusing more on the beautiful side of things makes life easier on the whole. I have always had this ability of seeing the redeeming sides of people no matter what huge jerks others are saying about them. You should try it too. A person might seem detestable at first sight and has a serious character flaw that turns you off big time but only if you are patient and open-minded enough to see again, you might discover some amazing qualities that you missed.

No one can be so bad to a point that he does not deserve a second look.

The Module Planner

2005-07-30T01:14:00.000+08:00

After making professional research and analysis on the complex CORS system ingeniously devised by one of the top 20 universities in the world, I have successfully bid and won the modules of my choice. It was a rigourous competition against over a thousand freshmen before I finally beat them hands down.

It has been finalised. The five modules that I will be taking this semester are as follows:

PL1101E INTRODUCTION TO PSYCHOLOGY

SC1101E MAKING SENSE OF SOCIETY

SW1101E INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL WORK

JS1101E INTRODUCTION TO JAPANESE STUDIES

EN1101E AN INTRODUCTION TO LITERARY STUDIES

All five modules are exposure modules from the myriad subjects in the faculty of Arts and Social Sciences. Some being especially popular like the psychology and sociology modules. The choice of these modules has been meticulously planned for the greater benefit of myself. If I could get all my choice tutorials, I would have the perfect timetable. The benefits are as follows:

1) A 4 day week. Mon-Thu. Friday is reserved for personal pursuits in view of a holistic education.

2) 8-10am lessons are avoided to reduce the frequency of me waking up at the unholy time of 6am.

3) Exams are spaced out with at least two days between each one to prevent system crash.

4) No lessons go back to back so that I will never be late for a lesson because of a long-winded lecturer in the previous one or if I get lost in the campus.

5) Ample time is reserved between lectures and tutorials for preparation.

For more information on module planning, please drop a comment to book an appointment. Charges apply.

Taro, the module planner

Prelude

2005-07-29T15:48:00.000+08:00

Well, things have to start somewhere and it is starting now. From this moment, I shall document my life in this public diary for people to judge and criticise. Perhaps without the pressure of face-to-face scenarios, I can express myself more truthfully and not be so reserved. I start this blog in hope of becoming less self-conscious, as it makes me rather secretive and introverted as most of my friends will find me.

I hope people will get to understand me better through this journal and know who I truly am, even though I am searching for it myself as well! I don't even know how many people will be interested enough to read up to this point (another of my inferiority complexes at work) but I wish this wandering around in wonderland will eventually lead me to somewhere. Anywhere but here.

The story so far:

The past is passe but I constantly hang on to those moments that I love and cannot bear to let go. 21 years is very long and I have to be ashamed of how little I have achieved up to this point in time. I started out as a child embracing imagination and invention. I love creating mysteries as some of my childhood friends will know. Some of you might even remember I was using the pseudonym Mr Peppermint as well?

I still fancy little surprises now and it has always been my dream for someone to create a mystery just for me to solve. I find it intimately romantic and incredibly sweet. People should watch 'Amelie' to understand this.

I remember I was rather talkative back then but god knows what happened along the way. I became a shivering, self-doubting student with suicidal tendencies. Apart from being an arts advocater passionate in singing, acting and dancing, I was no more than a nerdy porn addict suffering from a bout of alopecia.

And I went on to become a slave for the country and that is also an intense period of self-discovery. I took on many personas ever since: a self-proclaimed witch versed in tarot and astrology; a fanatic with three-minute passions of becoming a singer, writer, psychologist, journalist and special education teacher; a hazardous heavy vehicle driver; an infatuated repeater operator; a naive full-time mistress; a talent scout aka a professional flatterer; and a disappointed serial dater.

Today, I am a part-time tutor suffering from pre-uni phobia and under a weight gain and water detox plan. Any speculations on what I will become next?