absolutum dominium: October 2004

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

MY HANDWRITING ANALYSIS

For a graphologist, the spacing on the page reflects the writer's attitude toward their own world and relationship to things in his or her own space. If the inputted data was correct Isobel has no white space or margins on a typical sheet of paper. Isobel fills up every last inch on the top, right, left, and bottom. Hmmm. If this is true, then Isobel has a very aggressive personality toward others and quite frankly lacks a bit of respect for the space and property of other people. I would be surprised if Isobel just comes into someone's home and helps herself to a drink in the refrigerator. This can be both an obnoxious personality trait and it can be assertive and effective in getting what you want. There isn't much fear of getting in trouble here, Isobel finds plenty of reasons to break the rules and get in trouble. (Okay, perhaps when she was younger, not anymore?) Basically, people with no margins are a handful.

Something is incomplete in Isobel's life. She feels frustration relating to her physical needs and desires. Somewhere in her life there is some disappointment, non-fulfillment, and interruption. This is very likely to relate to Isobel's sexual needs.

Isobel is very self-sufficient. She is trying not to need anyone. She is capable of making it on her own. She probably wants and enjoys people, but she doesn't "need" them. She can be a loner.

One way Isobel punishes herself is self directed sarcasm. She is a very sarcastic person. Often this sarcasm and "sharp tongued" behavior is directed at herself.

Isobel is a practical person whose goals are planned, practical, and down to earth. This is typical of people with normal healthy self-esteem. She needs to visualize the end of a project before she starts. she finds joy in anticipation and planning. Notice that I said she plans everything she is going to do, that doesn't necessarily mean things go as planned. Isobel basically feels good about herself. She has a positive self-esteem which contributes to her success. She feels she has the ability to achieve anything she sets her mind to. However, she sets her goals using practicality-- not too "out of reach". She has enough self-confidence to leave a bad situation, yet, she will not take great risks, as they relate to her goals. A good esteem is one key to a happy life. Although there is room for improvement in the confidence catagery, her self-perception is better than average.

In reference to Isobel's mental abilities, she has a very investigating and creating mind. She investigates projects rapidly because she is curious about many things. She gets involved in many projects that seem good at the beginning, but she soon must slow down and look at all the angles. She probably gets too many things going at once. When Isobel slows down, then she becomes more creative than before. Since it takes time to be creative, she must slow down to do it. She then decides what projects she has time to finish. Thus she finishes at a slower pace than when she started the project. She has the best of two kinds of minds. One is the quick investigating mind. The other is the creative mind. Her mind thinks quick and rapidly in the investigative mode. She can learn quicker, investigate more, and think faster. Isobel can then switch into her low gear. When she is in the slower mode, she can be creative, remember longer and stack facts in a logical manner. She is more logical this way and can climb mental mountains with a much better grip.

Isobel is secretive. She has secrets which she does not wish to share with others. She intentionally conceals things about herself. She has a private side that she intends to keep that way, especially concerning certain events in her past.

Isobel will demand respect and will expect others to treat her with honor and dignity. Isobel believes in her ideas and will expect other people to also respect them. She has a lot of pride.

Isobel is moderately outgoing. Her emotions are stirred by sympathy and heart rendering stories. In fact, she can be kind, friendly, affectionate and considerate of others. She has the ability to put herself into the other person's shoes. Isobel will be somewhat moody, with highs and lows. Sometimes she will be happy, the next day she might be sad. She has the unique ability to get along equally well with what psychology calls introverts and extroverts. This is because she is in between. Psychology calls Isobel an ambivert. She understands the needs of both types. Although they get along, she will not tolerate anyone that is too "far out." She doesn't sway too far one way or the other. When convincing her to buy a product or an idea, a heart rendering story could mean a great deal to her. She puts herself in the same situation as the person in the story, yet she will not buy anything that seems overly impractical or illogical. Isobel is an expressive person. She outwardly shows her emotions. She may even show traces of tears when hearing a sad story. Isobel is a "middle-of-the-roader," politically as well as logically. She weighs both sides of an issue, sits on the fence, and then will decide when she finally has to. She basically doesn't relate to any far out ideas and usually won't go to the extreme on any issue.

People that write very large tend to be very social and friendly. It seems Isobel has this type of writing. This indicates a need for people and a particular natural ability to socialize and be the life of the party. Now, if Isobel also has specific fears (like fear of criticism or fear of trust) then she will deny she is the life of the party, because fear has overcome her natural inclination to be social. People with large handwriting tend to be effective at anything that requires interaction with lots of people. she is a people person.

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Monday, November 01, 2004

Not in the mood to blog. Don't know what to say. Sometimes I feel like whatever I say just gets questioned. Why the fuck then should I ever bother? Nothing comes to mind at this moment. And so the day has happened and I have been feeling all the usual feelings tt have been permeating my life as of late, but so? So what? Exams are coming. That's all tt should matter to me.

And so it shall be the case.

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	I feel everything and nothing. Anger, fear, sadness, frustration, love, joy, loneliness, disappointment, confusion. Overwhelmed. And I do not know why I am everything and nothing.
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"YEAH YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, BUT YOU DON'T MEAN A THING TO ME."

TINY VESSELS -
Deathcab For Cutie

This is the moment that you know
That you told her that you loved her but you don't
You touched her skin and then you think
That she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me.
Yeah she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me

I spent two weeks in Silverlake, the California sun cascading down my face
There was a girl with light brown streaks,
And she was beautiful, but she didn't mean a thing to me
Yeah she was beautiful, but she didn't mean a thing to me

I wanted to believe in all the words that I was speaking as we moved together in the dark
And all the friends that I was telling all the playful misspellings and every bite I gave that left a mark
Then tiny vessels oozed into your neck and formed the bruises that you said you didn't want to fade
But they did and so did I that day

All I see are dark gray clouds in the distance moving closer with every hour
So when you'd ask, "Is something wrong?" (I'd think)
"You're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now. No we can't talk about it now."

So one last touch and then you'll go and we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile and it was cheap and you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me
Yeah, you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me.
Yeah, you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me.

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Sunday, October 31, 2004

"UH... CAN YOU THINK OF ANOTHER NAME?"

The highlight of my day is training. Not tt the rest was boring, but I don't feel like doing a discourse on eating and sleeping. Not to go into details, but after weeks of David telling us of his grand plan to scrap the barnacles off the underside of the boat, we *finally* got round to doing that today.

It was a completely gross eye-opener to flip the boat upside down and see the entire underside covered completely with those ugly little bits of shellfish. You could see them moving as they were exposed to the air. I took great pleasure in using my paddle to destroy all the thousands and thousands of them, breaking and smashing their ugly shells and scrapping them off into the water in little broken bits.

David says he can go fry orh qian (oyster eggs) once he retires."

Ew. Gross.

After tt we had both heavy and ferrari rowing sets, and then it came to mized training with the guys, and I got the almost completely junior boat. I finally understand what Johnny told me, when he said the juniors cannot make it. I've never sat in a mixed boat quite so heavy, or with such *wrong* strokes. Sigh.

The short quick run in view of the dark skies and impending rain was a horror coz I really didn't feel good running this time. When I came back I had this huge sensation of throwing up. Had to hold my food down, although admittedly I don't think there was any food in my stomach to be thrown up.

But seriously, even though there is someone in the guys' team who is suspected to be gay, and it seems *everyone* including the juniors in our team know about him... uh, can you think of a better name than 'Mr. Gay'? Okay, granted. 'Gay guy' is not a very nice name too, but... argh. I feel so sorry for him. Heck, we all feel kind of sorry for him coz of the discrimination he's been facing, and apparently he is a relatively nice guy. Oh well.

Besides tt, Mona has blonde hair. Or half blonde hair. Babe, I didn't laugh... tt much. Although when you called me, I was with my parents, and when you spoke of my eye-candy (whom you also concur has the most charming smile ever seen on a guy), they both turned back to me. I guess they really can't wait to prove to their gossipy friends tt their daughter *really* is not lesbian.

Yeargh. Personal statement personal statement. Argh, I *hate* it when my faculty mates with no CCAs or any other activities complain about how far behind they are in their work. I mean, if you choose academia to be your only vocation, then why can't you fucking go and fucking excel in it? And why must you tell me your troubles when it's obvious tt I have a lot less time for academia than you do? And finally, why must you try to convince me how important work is? It's not something I don't already know.

Geez.

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Friday, October 29, 2004

RUNNING IS MY KETAMINE

Apologies to all the people I worked up with my MSN nick last night. Wasn't meant to worry, tho I'm grateful for the concern. Without going into extreme details, just wanted to say tt last night I was in a pretty bad mood. By bad mood I don't mean my usual depressed/moody/broody state; I mean violently angry. Was just really really tired and sian and very tired of people hounding me and essentially the day didn't go too well. Met a lot of retards in NUS (NUS has a lot more fucking retards than one would imagine from a so-called world class university. I think the fucking retards give it a worse name than the original girls... or are they about as bad?).

In the past, I rarely got into a violently angry state. It was usually coz close to the violence stage, I'd either have a punching bag to punch, a board or two to break, or a guy or two to kick in the balls. That works wonders to make one go from feeling like a thousand dollar deficit to a million bucks. Of course, I don't have a punching bag or a board anymore, and even tho I would have loved the sparring practice I don't think I'll be able to find a willing sparring partner on such short notice.

As such, I felt like punching people.

I'm serious. Last night, tt was what I wanted to do. Was waiting for the wrong kind of people to come and piss me off so tt I could find an excuse to beat someone into a bloody pulp. The acid tongue of mine tt was showing itself in the day didn't have any target at night, so I could literally feel the tension in my muscles as they anticipated.

In the end, I went for a solo run. It made me feel better, as running usually does. I don't do trainings runs now; right now it's really just de-stressing runs at my own pace, on my own. Releases the right endorphins, and the happy chemicals just help to cancel out all tt negative energy. Of course, the run would have been better if some construction workers stopped trying to get my fucking attention coz I was sorely tempted, and I really mean sorely tempted, to run back to them and just go absolutely ballistic. But it helped a lot.

What helped even more was tt extended BF session with Wanyi. Was originally supposed to do my work, but once again the full-time messenger girl had been deployed, and in the process, just ended up just talking to her till 3am. And Sam and Beidi popped in for a while and an even shorter while each.

Also found out, tt the reason why I haven't been ponded yet is coz my prospective ponders have been warned about my black belt. Oh goodie. That works just fine for me.

I don't know how I managed to wake up for breakkie with James today. But obviously it was worth it. We spent about an hour just catching up. Speaking of which, I have to REALLY submit my application for exchange by the time next week comes. Dammit my personal statement is still wholly unwritten. I don't know what I can say about myself. How do you write about yourself when you're still trying to find out who you are?

Speaking of which, the topic of blogs came up. James himself can affirm tt one hell of a lot of people read my blog. He compares it to Xiaxue's, altho to me tt isn't a compliment. But it's 'updated regularly'. Well. I'm not really proud of what I write. It's not a product of high intelligence or deep analysis or anything worth being proud of. But what I can be proud of, is tt my blog doesn't look like the million others tt I see around, the one written by gushy girls with 1. pink backgrounds and fancy fonts (spare me); 2. on and on musings about their relationships and how sweet their bfs are and all the stuff tt said bfs do for them; 3. whinings and whinings about all things sweet and pink and pretty and how fat they are and how much they should lose weight. Fortunately, my blog is not vomit-inducing.

However, what I must say, is tt I don't mind tt you read my blog. I don't care who you are. You could be a close friend, or a complete stranger, or you could be what I suspect - an acquaintance who knows me possibly by face and/or name, but don't know what I am really like and am using my blog to form your opinion of me. No, it doesn't matter. But like I said, I'm not Xiaxue. This blog is not for your viewing pleasure. Entertainment is a by-product, but not the main intention of this blog. So I would appreciate it if you didn't go around publicising my blog or spreading the address around like venereal disease. Thank you very much.

Last of all, I was having lunch at the Arts canteen. What are the chances? My graduated Bizad eye-candy was buying food from the Arts canteen. *silent scream* But what the fuck. I was leaving for my tutorial as he was standing there, and even though I had 3 SMSes to talk to him and/or get his number... I didn't.

*sigh* I hate rainy Fridays. Rain is good for sleeping, but not for much else. You can't walk around without drenching the bottom of your pants, and you can't go for your needed runs.

For some reason, I just wish someone would go ahead and shoot me. I wonder why.

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Thursday, October 28, 2004

Some guy tries to contact me by SMS a very very long time after the last time we spoke. Obviously he wants something, but instead of coming right out and saying it, he decides to go the long, round-about, waste my SMS, my $$, and my time, way.

said guy: "When are your exams?"
me: "November."
said guy: "I know lah. When exactly?"
me: "12 - 29. After tt I'm flying off to Mauritius."
said guy: "Where is maritus?" (yes, spelt exactly tt way.)
me: "Use the map."

Turns out he wants to know the market rate for a tattoo.

Public - 6:26 PM - add eprops - add comments - edit it - email it

THE MYTH OF ME

A lot of people see me as the strong independent woman. Taekwondo black belt, dragonboater, soon-to-be police officer... Hell, I'm perfectly happy the way I am, living my life the way I want to. I don't need a man, or anyone one else for that matter.

Well, most of the times, I'm thankful to be single. I'm thankful to be independent, to know tt I *am* strong and tt I can depend on myself to take care of myself. I'm thankful tt I can do everything I want to do, no matter how crazy or outrageous, or no matter how much time it takes. I don't have to worry about or answer to anyone. I can just concentrate on my life and what I want to do, now, while I'm young and energetic.

But there are always times where it just sucks being single. It's the whole 'alone' bit. Maybe it wouldn't be quite so bad if I were at home, where I'd be almost drowned in the love showered on me by my parents, but in hall or in school when you're walking around, doing your own thing - alone -, it does get very lonely.

I was getting my laptop reformatted today. As I was collecting it, this very pretty girl kept staring at me. She had mascara on so the size of her eyes were enhanced. And I didn't know why she kept staring coz I didn't know her personally. And then I realised tt she's the girlfriend of someone I know whom I'd thought was single for quite a while.

That's the thing. Couples are sprouting up everywhere. And I literally mean everywhere. Law fac, hall... If you thought last year was extreme it gets even heavier. And the thing is all this really does make you wonder if something is so wrong with you? Why can't you just cash in on a little bit of tt lurrrrrve?

I was asked why I wasn't attached. Hell, I get tt often. I don't know what to answer anymore. I can continue to say tt I don't need a man, but sometimes I will admit, right here right now in my blog to every single web voyeur, tt I'm a myth.

There are times where I just get so tired of being strong and independent all the time. Where I want someone I can just really really be myself with. Just tear off tt mask and stop being steel. Get a reassuring embrace tt makes me think all will be fine. Just have someone telling me tt I can rest and not worry or be on my guard anymore. Cry if I want to. Tell the absolute truth, politically-correct or not.

There's this saying tt goes, "Ask not to be loved, but to love."

But the thing is who can I love? Who is out there? All I can do is ask, but then again I know I'm a difficult person to love. I acknowledge, because of the whole 'strong woman' facade, it's not easy to break down the walls. It's just not easy to get me to trust, and to stop acting. I'm resigned. I don't think it's possible. Why would anyone want to go after a girl who's neither pretty nor slim nor has pretty arms, and worse, one who's possibly more manly, more gung-ho, stronger and more muscular? And then have to break thru the barriers and put up with the 'strong woman' stubborn acts?

I don't dare to be anything else than what I am. I guess maybe I AM asking for it. All that pride. All that refusal to bend. All that concern with image.

Even when I am lonely, and I get lonely attacks often, I will never admit it. I get asked to dinner, and I say I've eaten (okay, I *had* eaten) because I'm not in the mood to socialise with people I'm not familiar with. I'll just say I'm fine, even when I'm feeling very low. I'll get asked out for things, and I'll turn outings down coz I have to study or I have family commitments, and even though I know tt these outings with friends I miss, will bring some joy into my mundane life, I don't admit it.

Instead, I drown my loneliness, block it out with the usual. I blog, I run, I drink, I eat, I pretend to delude myself until the feeling goes away.

Don't get me wrong; I don't want to get attached just for the sake of. Yes, I am lonely, but I'm neither desperate nor pathetic. I've despise self-pity, and if I indulge in it I'll just hate myself, so I don't do tt. I won't ever get attached just so I can have a bf. I won't ever get attached just coz I want eye or arm-candy. Yes, so I look. Yes, so I dream, and I probably dream more than is healthy for me.

But my reality is such. I don't really want to get a bf. I'm not looking for a bf. I'm looking for someone who's probably of a much rarer breed. I'm looking for a soul mate, a confidante. Someone I can just tell all my troubles to and not worry how tt person will see me or treat me. I want someone who will understand and empathise and accept, just like tt. I want someone trustworthy, dependable, on the same wavelength, and more importantly, will be there for me when I need him/her.

In return, I promise to be everything he/she needs.

Of course, I know I'm asking for too much. It's impossible. It's just my wish list. But now you know. The woman of steel isn't all tt strong after all.

Fuck. There's something awfully pathetic about this.

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Wednesday, October 27, 2004

I never thought I would say this now, but I feel irrepairably, hopelessly, painfully, and blindly alone.

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OF BLACK SUITS AND VIRUSES

Re-cap of the last two days, at which point you will also find out a) why I haven't blogged since that Bitch Fit (courtesy of Ms Lee Wanyi) I threw early Monday morning; and b) why I don't come on MSN anymore, or at least, why I appear and disappear like David Copperfield on crack.

Monday was my mock-trial day. As you should have guessed, I slept at an ungodly hour. 6am... Is that an ungodly hour? Wanted to go to school for Prop lecture at 9am. Dragged myself out of bed around 7.45am, only to realise that I wasn't in any shape to sit through a 1 hour 45 minute lecture on Property Law awake at any point of that period, and decided to tell my parents tt my lecture had been cancelled. Heh. Woke up at 1.30pm instead, woken up by a phone call by Debbie.

Got to school around 3pm, Debbie came over some time after, and we went over each other's stuff and questions and submissions. Then it came The Time. Time for me to go from casual undergrad/hostelite, to The Woman In Black.

Time for me to don my black and white outfit. I love it. I love wearing the black lawyer's Power Suit with the white long sleeve blouse. Putting on the black blazer empowers me almost as much as tying my black belt, complete with the gold emblazoning of my name, around my Taekwondo gi does.

Clothes maketh the (wo)man? In this case I would agree. The blazer just inspires me with so much confidence. As I pack my free laptop bag with Home Team Local Merit Scholarship on the side - BUT which could pass off as a professional brief case, albeit a poorer quality one, I feel so professional, so untouchable, so intelligent (haha), so... lawyerish.

Debbie and I go 'fetch' our witness, the lovely Miss Lee Wanyi aka Miss Jita Ong Pian Ren (yes, tt is right. The role tt has also been popularised by Wendy Cheng of Xiaxue fame), from her room. Of course, I didn't tell Miss Lee that the Debbie in question was her fellow prefect from St Nicks (Debbie told me not to tell Wanyi. Arhaha), so you can imagine the utter Kodak Moment quality look of shock on Wanyi's face. :)

After picking up our other witness who would be playing Mr. Tipu Lang (even though she was female and could give rise to accusations of homosexuality in the board room *scandalised gasp!*), we took a cab down to Drew and Napier in Ocean Towers Shenton Way, totally blending in with the rest of the office crowd (a lot of whom were probably less dressed-up than me and Debs), and coolly strolled into the D&N office.

OMG OMG OMG OMG. One of the things I love about being a law student. The utter glamour and prestigeous moments. No matter how Bizad students aspire to be Law students, let's face it... You'll never get to wear black and white in your first and second years!!! Wahahaha! I gloat! Oh, how I gloat. *arrogant, self-satisfied smirk*

Anyway even tho we thought we were going to be late, our opposing counsel Johnny and Sheerene, were later. Oh, and Johnny WAS my direct opposing counsel after all! I crossed his witness and he re-exed mine. So cool huh? Seriously, what WERE the chances? Same fac, same ex-hall, same CCA, same scholarship... and OPPOSING COUNSEL! Powerrrr.

I kicked-off cross-examination. Don't think I did particularly well myself, coz according to Wanyi I went 'um' alot. Dammit my pause fillers problem is such a fucking PAIN. And I think I was treating the whole cross-ex thing very informally. Everytime Mr. Vergis asked me a question said something to me in the middle of my cross-exam, I'd address him directly, not as a judge as was his role, but rather as a teacher. OH WELL.

The upside? I managed to get my point across. Wahaha! $300, 000 damages knocked off the damages claim! Whoohoo! :) And my opening kind of SUCKED coz I OVER-prepared, and spent too long on the facts. And my supposed 1-liner on claims became a TOTAL 3-dimensional explanation coz I had to redefine the elements of the tort to fit defence case. But oh joy. Debbie was SO GOOD. She was so calm and I thought the way she appealed in her closing was simply winning. IMHO, the defence - that's us - the money-grubbing, evil, evidence-twisting fighters for the mecenary bitch that is Jita Ong Pian Ren, proved a much stronger case than the plaintiffs, and this is even though the facts, the evidence, and if Diva v Goenka is right, the LAW is on their side.

Wahooey! And I think I outdid Johnny too. Heh heh heh. Okay, maybe I'm self-important and delusional... But I doubt it. Admittedly we had a lot of help on our side. We had exceptional witnesses. Liling answered everything the right way, so she saved me a whole lot of trouble on re-ex and she made it very difficult for Johnny to get his points across to the judge. And Wanyi was a fabulous Jita! I personally don't think I prepared her all tt well for it, but the answers tt she gave were perfect. Totally revealed no holes in our case (unlike the plaintiffs' side heh heh heh).

Thanks babe. I am so eternally grateful to you for coming down and being my witness even thoguh you were so terribly busy and stressed and had to skip a lecture and rush back for meeting and had so so much on your mind. *sighz* You saved my life babe.

Anyway after the mock-trial all of us had dinner at Coffee Club. Wanyi and I shared a seafood lasagne and a chocolate truffle. I love the chocolate truffle. So chocolatey and rich and creamy and oh so sinful. Makes up for the fact tt you're paying $6 for a tiny round little thing.

After dinner, we shared a cab back to hall with Sheerene and her witness, both of whom stay in Temasek. So Wanyi got back in time for her meeting, and I got back in time to catch America's Next Top Model. I was a bit upset last week when my fave girl Jenascia got kicked out. *sigh* She was so cool coz she looked like and really reminded me of Angelina Jolie, and I idolise Angelina Jolie. A babe with balls. :) But now I'm rooting for Sara, coz she is SO hot. She's so absolutely beautiful - not just pretty, and she's got this really cool attitude. And she played Angelina Jolie in the episode the week before. Ooh baby. And Mercedes is such a charmer too. Instantly likeable. So glad Xiomara is out. Stupid pretentious bitch. After her PLEASE kick out Cammille, thanks. And April. I don't care if she's 'Asian'. She's not the kind of 'Asian' representative I want to have around.

Oh, in the midst of this I BET you want to know... so, what happened to my laptop? Did it miraculously heal itself? Did I really take a sledgehammer to it, stamp it under my foot, and then throw the rest of it out the window?

WELL.

I brought it down to my friend's room to see if I could save my important documents. You see on Mon night it was still about as screwy as Sun. I won't even go into details. But after trying desperately to open My Documents, we realised tt it had been attacked by a virus. Only thing is, I can't open ANY folder OR disk drive coz of the fucking thing, so I had to download my virus scanner of the net.

Guess what, the scanner discovered 33 viruses - Trojan horse files, droppers, downloaders and all sorts of fucking crap. And how long did this whole process take? 2 hours. 2 whole fucking hours just to do a virus scan. Why? Because of my fucking lagging system and the number of times it had to be restrted. The ironic thing - I can access iTunes and Firefox, which is why I can still blog with a virus-ridden, totally corrupted screwed up piece of crap tt is my lousy excuse of a computer.

Slept at 4am last night. Can't remember why. Woke up around 12pm today. Wanted to bring my PC down to Comp Centre or HP Notebook Centre. Wanted to put down my stuff at YIH Study Room first. In the end, I ended up fiddling with the damn PC, downloading Adware and Spyware, and finding a further 83 spyware programs on the damn thing.

KANINA FUCK CHEEBYE.

There I said it. Feel A LOT better now.

Went for training at 6pm. Note: this was after a so-called 'study' session with Mona that didn't work for me. Argh dammit. Gym was ok although I have recurring images of my arms just visibly increasing in size with every set I do. And run was, well.... It's a double-edged sword. When you don't run, you feel like something is HORRIBLY wrong. You don't feel worked out AT ALL. Even rowing, when there is no running... it's just weird. But when you run... Arhaha...

For some reason, the entire time during and after my run, there were 3 words tt kept going through my head: "Feel Good Running". WTF?!?!?! I don't know WHY I kept mentally chanting them. Trust me it's not of my own free will. I could barely breathe, my stomach felt like pressure was being exerted from it on the inside, and after not running in so fucking long my legs, thighs, ankles and heels, were screaming in protest. Chionging upslope sucks. Chionging up stairs sucks. Chionging up the PGP slope sucks like HELL. Chionging up EVERY SINGLE THING that leads upwards sucks. I obviously didn't feel good running.

But after tt, even though I felt incredibly tired, I DID feel good in a perverse sense, if you consider feeling drained feeling good. Oh well. Even though running in a team always makes you think you can't make it and you're just going to keel over and die somewhere along the way, at the very end when you're done, you ALWAYS wonder... How on EARTH did I do it?!

I know, I wonder tt all the time.

Came back to hall to back up my files. The one thing about reformatting my comp tt I find most painful, is tt I will lose my song files. Granted, it's only 317 songs, but I love my collection. I really do. It's got everything from Gin Blossoms and Goo Goo Dolls to Maroon 5 and Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Sting, Edith Piaf, Foo Fighters, Deathcab for Cutie, The Postal Service, Nelly, Eminem, Snoop and Dre, Eve and Alicia Keys, Bush, Collective Soul, Beyonce and Justin, Usher, U2, Stone Temple Pilots, Radiohead... HELL, I even have Kylie, J.Lo, Michael Jackson and Britney. It's been painstakingly built up from scratch download after download, with all sorts of risks (both of the viral and legal nature) carefully calculated (not) and taken anyway. Fuck me if I'd willingly allow all my gorgeous songs to just go FZZZZZZZZZ.... into nothingness.

Anyway the problem was solved. All you need is a noble friend with an iPod. Except now you owe tt friend big time and may have become said friend's full-time messenger. But OH WELL. Small price to pay for saving my prized collective of fine songs (like fine wine). And yeah, you can call me Juliana Lotsamany (inside law student joke. Heh heh. *sticks tongue out*)

Okay okay. I see my entry is WAAAAAAAAAAAAY long and WAAAAAAAAAY detailed and I shall end here for now. Am sending my laptop for repair/reformatting tomorrow, so I prob won't be back for a while (unless I get hold of someone else's PC). So for now, ciao! Bye bye. Adios!

Time for company law tutorial, folks.

P.S. How is this for an example of an act of utter stupidity?

"For our rowing... we did our starts of 5 5 5. " Bold, underlined, highlighted. 5,5,5. For your viewing pleasure.

P.P.S Then how is this for an act of utter BHB-ness/brainlessness?

"OMG, OMG, OMG... I'm SO looking forward to rowing with the guys. They're like totally big and muscular and hunky and when they row, I'm SO impressed tt I could just die and float straight to HEAVEN!"

Like totally. Darlings darling darlings, not to rescue any of you from your delusion, but we have a lot more steel than you think we do (possibly more than you do too). And probably a lot more grey matter too.

P.P.P.S It's confirmed. My blog is now listed on Yahoo. You can find me typing stuff like dragonboat. Oh joy. I've half a mind to relocate or privatise. Fuck Yahoo. But then again I guess if I did tt I'd be going against my principles, and I'm not John Kerry. I don't need the citizens of the United States to vote for me, or for anyone else to like me, for that matter. So, blog still stands, super bitchy super offensive I DON'T GIVE A FUCK entries still stand, and yes, I finally understand why my web counter jumps like a frog in vat of boiling oil.

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Monday, October 25, 2004

4.30 AM

I'm fucking pissed. 4.30am and I'm still doing my trial advo prep. Why you ask? My laptop in hall has gone and done it. Fucked up. It's so fucking fucked up tt the only thing I want to do with it really to hurl it out the fucking 6th floor window.

Hell wait. Smash it with a sledgehammer, stomp on it under my foot, and the throw what's left of it out the fucking window.

Stupid motherfucking bitch chose this crucial night, this fucking crucial night 1 day before my trial advo cross-exam where I have to prepare my statements and questions for both cross and re in between in the same day as shuttling around for dragonboat and a dance rehearsal tt involves so much waiting I should just take a gun and shove its nozzle right into the back of my throat and pull the fucking trigger, to go AWOL on me.

Yes, Izzy the bitch is back.

You blame me? I'm fucking tired. I had to go home at 11.30-fucking-pm at night because I needed to use the comp at home. All the stuff in my laptop cannot be accessed. I don't know how many files I may have to lose. My song and music files are one thing, but I have things like lecture notes, self-made notes and tutorial notes tt I intend to keep, and seriously from now on DON'T BUY A HP NOTEBOOK. Spare yourself the agony. And fucking upgrade your mem.

Fuck. Should I reformat the disc or send the whole thing to Comm centre? Stupid bitch of a comp. My mom suggested BUYING ME A NEW NOTEBOOK.

If not for the fact tt she'd be blowing $3k at least on it, I'm SORELY tempted to accept.

Stupid bitch.

Argh, dammit. On the upside, I'm in a bitter environment. More space, A LOT more space, yummier food. Had MAC'S for my supper. Can play my songs all night while my parents sleep. Got air-con. Can do quizes... Bigger table...

Aiyah fuck it what am I talking about?

Okay back to work.

Death, the second of The Endless, you are
responsible for ending all lives and taking
them to your realm, from which no one ever
returns. You are bright, positive, happy,
optimistic and enjoy everything about life, but
that does not mean your silly or stupid. You
can lay the smack down when you have to!
Everyone loves you, and they don't know why.

Which Endless are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

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Saturday, October 23, 2004

DUM DUM DUM

Okay okay last blog of night. Am at home where comp works at super duper speed compared to tt old cluttered bitch of a machine in my hall. Am going print-happy! Went to YIH to join teammates in study session. I took the Supp bus for the first time, AAAALLLL the way to Science outside LT 27, got off pretending not to look embarrassed, and then REBOARDED it with Vic when she pointed out tt it returned to Bizad fac THRU YIH.

Not much studying done at YIH. Between whispered phone calls where I was STILL louder than everyone else in the room, drawing a spastic picture for Mona and trying to keep my sneezing, coughing and laughing down, weeeellll.... Oh, tt PLUS a super LONG dinner with Geox and Mona. Altho the dinner was enligthening, coz I finally got to know the reason as to why our coxswain in past training events whereby we crashed into assorted canoes and knocked other coxswains into the water (okay lah, only one of each, but STILL!!) was so *buay zhai*. Arhahaha... I guess some people aren't made to cox boats... 'Ya know how some poseurs are made permanent coxswains coz they're terrible rowers? I guess ze reverse may also be true.

Of course, let this not be any issue as to how much I still love you, and please don't make me do 35 push-ups for the comments. *terrified wail*

I love soft-boiled eggs. Yum.

Made my 8pm meeting which lasted a grand total of 10 min. Missed SG Idol, so I don't know who got kicked out. Met parents for 'supper' (my dad's grand occasion to order everything and pretend *I* want to eat it, like char kway teow - which he knows I don't like anyway -), where I was talking at the speed of light about everything I could to them. I missed my paaaaarrrreeeeeennnnntttttssssss whaaaaaat....

And then came back and watched Carnivale on HBO.

Now going print-happy. Yay. I REALLY REALLY DO love tt song 'Englishman In New York'. Gorgeous chill-out.

But a story I want to share. Emailed by Jules:

Table for Two

"No, thank you," the man smiles. "I'll wait for her a while longer. How about some more coffee?"

"Certainly, sir."

The man sits, his clear blue eyes gazing straight through the flowered centerpiece. He fingers his napkin, allowing the sounds of light chatter, tinkling silverware, and mellow music to fill his mind. He is dressed in sport coat and tie. His dark brown hair is neatly combed, but one stray lock insists on dropping to his forehead.

The scent of his cologne adds to his clean cut image. He is dressed up enough to make a companion feel important, respected, loved. Yet he is not so formal as to make one uncomfortable. It seems that he has taken every precaution to make others feel at ease with him. Still, he sits alone.

The waiter returns to fill the man's coffee cup. "Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?"

"No, thank you."

The waiter remains standing at the table. Something tugs at his curiosity. "I don't mean to pry, but..." His voice trails off. This line of conversation could jeopardize his tip.

"Go ahead," the man encourages. His is strong, yet sensitive, inviting conversation.

"Why do you bother waiting for her?" the waiter finally blurts out. This man has been at the restaurant other evenings, always patiently alone.

Says the man quietly, "Because she needs me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Well, sir, no offense, but assuming that she needs you, she sure isn't acting much like it. She's stood you up three times just this week."

The man winces, and looks down at the table. "Yes, I know."

"Then why do you still come here and wait?"

"Cassie said that she would be here."

"She's said that before," the waiter protests. "I wouldn't put up with it. Why do you?"

Now the man looks up, smiles at the waiter, and says simply, "Because I love her."

The waiter walks away, wondering how one could love a girl who stands him up three times a week. The man must be crazy, he decides. Across the room, he turns to look at the man again.

The man slowly pours cream into his coffee. He twirls his spoon between his fingers a few times before stirring sweetener into his cup. After staring for a moment into the liquid, the man brings the cup to his mouth and sips, silently watching those around him.

He doesn't look crazy, the waiter admits. Maybe the girl has qualities that I don't know about. Or maybe the man's love is stronger than most. The waiter shakes himself out of his musings to take an order from a party of five.

The man watches the waiter, wonders if he's ever been stood up. The man has, many times. But he still can't get used to it. Each time, it hurts. He's looked forward to this evening all day. He has many things, exciting things, to tell Cassie.

But , more importantly, he wants to hear Cassie's voice. He wants her to tell him all about her day, her triumphs, her defeats.... anything, really. He has tried so many times to show Cassie how much he loves her. He'd just like to know that she cares for him, too. He sips sporadically at the coffee, and loses himself in thought, knowing that Cassie is late, but still hoping that she will arrive.

The clock says nine-thirty when the waiter returns to the man's table.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" The still empty chair stabs at the man.

"No, I think that will be all for tonight. May I have the check please?"

"Yes, sir."

When the waiter leaves, the man picks up the check. He pulls out his wallet and signs. He has enough money to have given Cassie a feast. But he takes out only enough to pay for his five cups of coffee and the tip. Why do you do this, Cassie, his mind cries as he gets up from the table.

"Good-bye," the waiter s ays, as the man walks towards the door.

"Good night. Thank you for your service."

"You're welcome, sir," says the waiter softly, for he sees the hurt in the man's eyes that his smile doesn't hide.

The man passes a laughing young couple on his way out, and his eyes glisten as he thinks of the good time he and Cassie could have had. He stops at the front and makes reservations for tomorrow. Maybe Cassie will be able to make it, he thinks.

"Seven o'clock tomorrow for party of two?" the hostess confirms.

"That's right," the man replies.

"Do you think she'll come??" asks the hostess. She doesn't mean to be rude, but she has watched the man many times alone at his table for two.

"Someday, yes. And I will be waiting for her." The man buttons his overcoat and walks out of the restaurant, alone. His shoulders are hunched, but through the windows the hostess can only guess whether they are hunched against the wind or against the ma n's hurt. As the man turns toward home,

Cassie turns into bed. She is tired after an evening out with friends. As she reaches toward her night stand to set the alarm, she sees the note that she scribbled to herself last night.

"7:00," it says. "Spend some time in prayer."

Darn, she thinks. She forgot again. She feels a twinge of guilt, but quickly pushes it aside. She needed that time with her friends. And now she needs her sleep. She can pray tomorrow night. Jesus will forgive her. And she's sure he doesn't mind.

By: Kirsten Burgess

Aww... My heart warms up, utterly warms up, with the reminder of how much love He has for us. Gotta praaaay extra long tonight.

Goodnight everyone... I lurve mommy and daddy. :)

BTW, totally out of point, but I WANNA NEW EYE CANDY!! *pout* Why does everybody else suck so much?!

Hmmmmph.

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Friday, October 22, 2004

GOSSIP AND OTHER MISC BITS

Nabe. I missed my 3pm lecture. No, not coz of the rain (coz it stopped), but cozI felt kinda sick around 2.30pm. Like, throw-up kind of sick. Kanina don't know what's going on with me. This fucking sucks lah. I want to do work but it's so fucking frustrating. Am tempted to drag my ass out of my room and go to YIH, but I'm also tempted to run. So how? Should I run? Or should I rest?

Bah.

Anyway Wanyi, what time is your lecture on Mon? The thing is according to regulations I have to be at Drew and Napier at least 15 min before my exam - tt's at 5.45pm, which means I'd have to leave hall by 5pm. And if you want to be my witness, you'd have to read this affadavit evidence in chief (AEIC) which I have to send to you (a copy is in my laptop), and I'd have to discuss with you what your role is too... So you have to consider all tt before you agree babe...

(Yes, the truth is out. As much as you would get to torture opposing counsel (I hope), you'd have to prepare too. And be at Raffles Place early. Argh dammit I STiLL haven't prepared my opening statement!

Fuck fuck fuck... How am I supposed to do it? There's like, no fixed format... Does it go like a moot? "May it please the court?" Do I intro Debbie? Do I intro my opponent(s), who's either Johnny or Sheerene, unless all the instructors really screwed the arrangments up and I'm really up again Grace. ARGH. And what now? What can I ask bloody Sooka? And oh no you stupid stupid computer hang on me one more time you are going out my 6th floor window, wires and all! AAAAARRRRGGGGHHH!!!)

...

...

*deep deep breath*

Okay okay. Calm.

Anyway....

Being super nuah right now I was just thinking about scandals and gossips. I don't get it, how some people can seem so nice and innocent and friendly and warm to someone, and then go behind tt person's back and spread baseless malicious rumours like how said person is sleeping around or fucking someone else. Does it not prick your conscience to be saying something tt's not only untrue, but also so blatantly horribly defamatory and incredibly obvious evidence of what a small person you are, and yet still pretend to be all good and sweet in spite of it all?

And how can people who KNOW, who KNOW tt they get gossiped or talked about... just not care? I mean firstly, if I were said person I would NEVER want to give anyone any premise to gossip or spread malicious rumours behind my back. It's one thing to not care what people say or think about you coz you can't help everyone liking or not liking you, but at the very least DON'T give people any opportunity to blacken your name. Secondly, if you give people said opportunities to blacken your name, then you have no one else to blame but yourself when it comes back to you. Thirdly, if you know who are the bastards around, why bother hanging around them? I don't get it. I really don't. How you can smile and seem so nice and on good terms with some one, when you KNOW and you've told me personally what said person has said about you? It's so fucking hypocritical.

Would I do it? Only if I had no fucking choice. It's political, but if it is absofuckinglutely necessary I guess I would have to play politics. But otherwise, I would never ever associate with people who mean me harm. I would never give people any occasion whatsoever to cause me harm. And I would never spread malicious rumours to this degree about people either.

And one more thing, if any one dares to hurt any of my close friends, I warn you, I will come after you. And you're going to know what pain means.

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LAZY FRIDAY AFTERNOONS

My initial plans of going for my only lecture at 3pm today are becoming increasingly eroded by the threats of rain through the hastened darkening of the sky and the rumblings of thurder. There's going to be a storm.

The dam has burst. Woke up this morning with a creaky voice and a huge ball of phlegm in my throat. Gross. I feel so fucked-up irritated. Banana nut crunch cereal and jambu make up my breakfast and lunch. That's one good thing. The bad thing is tt my bitch of a computer is fucking lagging AGAIN. For the same fucking reason that the bloody virtual memory is too low. Eh what the HELL eh? I increased the stoopid virtual mem from 336 MB to 752 MB already you stupid bitch! Do you have ANY fucking idea how long it takes me to download 1 file off IVLE, send out 1 fucking email through Hotmail and type out a document on MS Word?! I have fucking work to do! I have to type out my cross-ex questions and opening statement! I can't spend all fucking morning writing, having the fucking programme hang on me 3 times in a fucking row, and having to hopefully recover the document OR re-type the whole damn thing out all over again! You bitch you suck you suck you suck! Dammit I really should do tt whole sledgehammer thing on you! GRR.

I want to go on Exchange. Should I go with prestige and go for the OBVIOUSLY UNATTAINABLE Duke Unit? Or practical romanticism and try for McGill (which half the fucking world is trying for)? Or adventure land and go for Auckland? GRR.

Decisions decisions. I cannot believe this. My legal writing tutor is no longer a member of NUS Law Fac she doesn't count as a referee. I'm hoping Burton Ong will agree to be my referee... He's STILL my fave tutor, even if the rest of the world thinks I've fucking lost my mind. But proud member of the eternal Burton Ong fanclub here! And I want to take his electives next time too. Wahaha... If I don't go on Exchange tt is. 0_o

{interjection: I need a new witness for Jita Ong Pian Ren! Kinda desperately. Any takers? Hell, I won't even care if you're male, shemale, or animal! As long as you can read and answer in English, and are free between 6 to 8 on Mon!}

...And the skies have burst and rain cascades down my window.

Now, just a bit about how some people want something so bad tt they just go against their principles for it. Like how someone I know (but not too well; no, he's not from hall) is attending church even tho he isn't, doesn't want to, and doesn't believe in Christianity and God, and tt's only coz the girl he likes is a devout Christian and will not get together with anyone else who isn't Christian.

Where do you draw the line? How do you know tt it's really about giving God a chance, and not just using religion as a leverage for what you want? I'm a bit disturbed by this fact. I'm disturbed by the whole premise. I'm disturbed tt when your own logic tells you tt she's perfect, you'll do whatever you can to get her, even when you're poles, and literally worlds apart. When you're trying to impose yourself into a life so different tt you still continue to stick out like a sore thumb...

And the one conclusion tt I have come to is this. From the outsider's point of view, yes. She IS perfect. She IS Perfection in itself. And for tt reason, she is too good for you.

Oh. And I love tt song by Sting - Englishman In New York.

ENGLISHMAN IN NEW YORK
- Sting

I don't drink coffee I take tea my dear
I like my toast done on the side
And you can hear it in my accent when I talk
I'm an Englishman in New York

See me walking down Fifth Avenue
A walking cane here at my side
I take it everywhere I walk
I'm an Englishman in New York

I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien
I'm an Englishman in New York
I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien
I'm an Englishman in New York

If "manners maketh man" as someone said
Then he's the hero of the day
It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile
Be yourself no matter what they say

I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien
I'm an Englishman in New York
I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien
I'm an Englishman in New York

Modesty, propriety can lead to notoriety
You could end up as the only one
Gentleness, sobriety are rare in this society
At night a candle's brighter than the sun

Takes more than combat gear to make a man
Takes more than license for a gun
Confront your enemies, avoid them when you can
A gentleman will walk but never run

If "manners maketh man" as someone said
Then he's the hero of the day
It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile
Be yourself no matter what they say

I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien
I'm an Englishman in New York
I'm an alien, I'm a legal alien
I'm an Englishman in New York

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HAPPY AGAIN

I hate having to rush tutorials. You do them as best as you can, taking so much energy out of yourself, tt you end up doing something reeaally stupid like fall asleep during the tutorial itself. Nabe. Fortunately, NO COMPANY LAW TUTORIAL TOMORROW!! Whoohoo! No need to piah tonight. Can concentrate on AEIC and preparing cross-exam questions for Mr. Sooka Lotsamany.

May be developing a flu. Was more or less ok this morning leh... was it something I ATE? Wanton mee, or yong tau foo? BAH. Soup whaaaat. But I bought jambu from NTUC! Happy like bird (quote 'friend'). Training wuz fun. I like training. Always puts a smile on my face. Dinner was fun too. Oh no... I've just realised why my days and days on end of staking out ze Bizad Canteen were all for NO USE at all....

...

Coz he's graduated.

*sigh sigh sigh*

Life is sad.

I'm incoherent.

BTW, just a general note: I've maxed out my MSN contact list so not everyone who adds me will be on my list, sorry abt tt. Besides tt, you CAN add me to your contact list and talk to me. But please for goodness sake IDENTIFY yourself. Don't expect me to tell you who I am coz if YOU'RE the one who added me then seriously questioning who I am is asking for BIG "fuck off". Secondly, I DON'T like being preached to. Share your views with me and I'll keep an open mind. Don't come straight out and say "Your views are wrong!" and go on and on and on about what you THINK the 'right' view will be. It's so fucking prick behaviour. Most of all, if you MUST, die die MUST preach to me, at least LEAVE YOUR FUCKING NAME.

God. What utter idiots pollute this grand green earth of ours. Esp MY PLANET.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Low
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Low

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

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Thursday, October 21, 2004

ZE NEXT BEST THING

I came back from dance practice after 12am. Yes, yes. For all my wantings, I went with obligations. *sigh* Obviously too late to go clubbing anywhere. So I settled for the next best thing.

Beer session.

1 x bottle of Erdinger = instant K.O.

On ly 3 gripes I have to make:

1. never drink Erdinger on an empty stomach.
2. never 'bottoms up' on a whole bottle of Erdinger
3. never do any of the above especially when you've not touched alcohol in almost 2 months.

Ugh... the suffering after tt... Horrible.

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Wednesday, October 20, 2004

EVERYTHING IS RELATIVE

My supposed schedule for today:

0900 - 0945: Prop lecture
0945 - 1300: Free time (which I used for gym session + study + lunch with Debbie)
1300 - 1500: Faculty Catholic Group meeting
1500 - 1600: Free time (used for study)
1600 - 1715: Company lecture
1800 - 2000: IHG Soccer training (I ponned it)
2000 - 2130: Free time (May run + study)
2130 - 2400: Dance practice for Good Luck concert (Thinking of leaving earlier)

See. This is how my schedule for today goes. This is what I am apparently obligated to do.

The thing is, how does it tie into my whole theme for this post about how everything is relative? Simple. What my priorities are. My lectures are my priorities. My studies are my priorities. FCG is a prority. Even my extra training for dragonboat is a priority. But the thing is: 1) IHG soccer and 2) Dance prac for good luck concert are at this point in time, NOT a priority for me.

Sure, I'm obligated coz I signed up. But ze thing is, I don't think they're necessary. I don't think I need to be spending so much time on both. In fact, I have better alternatives to do with my time. Run on my own. Study. And wahaha, yes. Go clubbing with a bunch of good friends.

It's always a conflict of what you have to do vs. what you WANT to do. And sometimes when you're sick and tired and you don't see the fucking point, you just want to screw it all and do what you WANT to do.

Anyway speaking of relativity, MORALITY is relative.

Give an example: today at FCG one of the girls was talking about some great sin tt she just couldn't forgive herself for. And she made it seem so great tt I was thinking: what? What IS it? Did you cheat on your bf? Did you steal someone else's bf? Did you steal anything? Etc etc etc. I mean, considering the character of the girl from what I know, she would probably take a venial sin (IMHO) to be a huge one.

But then again, I cut myself a lot of slack when it comes to sins. I don't indulge in gossip, and I hate people who spread rumours, but I don't see them as sins. At least not big ones. I don't see getting pissed drunk as a sin (prob coz I've done it before). I don't see dirty-dancing as a sin. And I rem this other girl who was bothered by it for MONTHS and thought it was a mortal sin.

Seriously, it's all relative. I suppose you can use ze Bible and God's Word as a guide of what constitutes morality to you, but personally, morality is generally defined myself. My own code, the way I think, see and do things. I don't give a damn what people say about my principles; as long as I can live with myself then so be it. I slack off sometimes; I tell lies; I drink when I feel like it; I curse a lot... etc.etc.etc. But at the same time I don't see these as wrong or sins. In my opinion, they don't hurt anyone unless those people are fucking wussies, and therefore if no one is hurt, then it's not wrong.

For tt matter, I don't impose my own opinions or values on anyone. I have my way of looking at things, and so do you. In fact I hate people who try to impose their own opinions or values on others. If someone straight out comes up to me and tells me what I am doing is 'wrong' on some moral high ground, tt person is just asking for me to tell him/her to fuck off. There has never been any black or white to anything. I suppose the whole line of 'What Would Jesus Do?' in the circumstances will be very helpful. When faced in a situation where you are forced to decide, tt's a helpful way to guide yourself. But even then, you may still not go down the 'morally right' path, if for other mitigating reasons.

I don't know. No one's perfect. We all strive to be better people, but we can't ever stop looking out for ourselves coz rarely ever will someone look out for us. And once again, morality is relative... UGH. I really really do hate it when someone comments "That's wrong" or "That's so mean" or something to tt effect coz it irritates the high blue bloody hell out of me and I just want to retort with the most bitingly sarcastic evil remark tt I possibly can to shut tt person up. Except tt half the time I don't coz I don't want to hurt tt person's feelings, unless of course it's some one I condemn. At which point if I condemn you I condemn you forever.

Haha... I don't know what kind of Catholic I am. I swear, I lie, I drink, I procrastinate, I have prejudices and biases and I have such bloody stubborn opinionated views... But then again I can't imagine myself any other way.

Oh well. Guess it's all relative. If King David could be an adulterer and cause the death of his mistress' husband, and still be accepted into the Kingdom of God... Then I guess there is some hope for me, no?

[edit: tt's it. I've left the NUS Blogring.]

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ZE REST OF ZE DAY

I swear I will never ever eat instant noodles again, on pain of death. May lightning strike me down the moment a strand of those MSG-loaded, sodium-saturated, preservative-filled threads of flour touch my hands, my chopsticks and my lips. I knew I shouldn't have eaten cup noodles. I just knew it. I've never liked cup noodles.

It's just tt the alternative, after waking up at 2pm, is to drag my fat lazy ass out of bed, get bathed and changed (the effort!) and all just to trudge down to Bizad and eat a loner's lunch. Yes, tt's right. I don't have many qualms abt eating lunch alone, so if you see this loser sitting alone in Bizad, head bowed conspicuously over her wanton mee like the pretty strands of noodles and thin slices of char siew are the most fascinating items ever made by Man, it's highly probably me.

But yes, today, I didn't want to go through so much effort just to put myself through more loser-emotional trauma. Between the devil and the deep blue sea, I chose... Cup noodles. My only packet, for emergencies only. It's the only item I have in hall besides my Nature Valley granola bars, and altho I do want to stock up on Combos and Yan Yan and my much-craved Banana Nut Crunch Cereal... I don't have any of the above. *wail* And since eating 3 granola bars in 1 evening was more than enough for me, I decided to opt for Cup noodles.

I knew it was a mistake. I just knew it. From the moment the first strands slipped into my throat I felt the slightly sore sensation in my throat burn. I still have the freaking sore throat even now. And after tt, I felt sick. Like my stomach wasn't ACCEPTING the food. I kept it down with tea tho.

And then Jane called me out for a short run at 4pm. It was supposed to be 9km, but after 3km tt was it. My pace, which started out ok, slowed and lagged like my bitch of a computer, such tt she had to always slow down to wait for me. And then halfway up Science Park I stopped coz I just felt like throwing up. My stomach was churning like a washing machine. Gross.

Tried to run after tt... Just...cannot...make... it. Felt terrible. We had to walk up the slope and take A2 back from PGP. How sad is tt? *sigh* But in spite of all this, had a nice chat with her. Things on her side, tho incredibly busy, are looking up. I really envy her, coz she's got so much more things to be stressed about, yet she never seems tired or loses tt upbeat cheerfulness...

*envious envious envious* Babe babe babe...

Anyway somehow I made it back to hall by 5pm; bathed changed and met Johnny at the KR bustop nicely at 5.25pm. Got to Raffles Place zhun zhun at 6pm, but because he wanted to eat Killiney Kopitiam kaya toast (as in really sit down and eat and drink kopi), we reached Drew and Napier for our trial advo tutorial around 6.10pm. No matter. I got my Horlicks. I love, absolutely love hot Horlicks on a cold cold day.

My tutorial... lasted till 10pm. In between, we had recre time in the famous DnN recre room - complete with pool table. In between playing pool, we feasted on pizza and beer. Fantastic. I swear it prob helped me loosen up. I went from super-quiet in the first half of the tutorial to super-enthusiastic to throw out my theories and points, including tt rediculous conspiracy tt Winy would impersonate Wily and/or vice versa coz they were twin sisters! Wahaha.

That was fun.

So now I'm back in hall. Done my laundry. Trying to settle on Prop. Hope the sore throat really goes away, and thankful the dinner has made my stomach settle.

A perfect, an absolutely perfect moment, is just resting - sitting or lying - in your room all by yourself, with the window open and a slight drizzle outside, while your playlist just plays Death Cab for Cutie back to back to back in the background.

My fave song now: Death Cab for Cutie's "Blacking Out The Friction".

BLACKING OUT THE FRICTION
- Death Cab For Cutie

I don't mind the weather, I've got scarves and caps and sweaters,
I've got long johns under slacks for blustery days.

I think that it's brainless to assume that making changes to your
window's view will give a new perspective.

The hardest part is yet to come.

I don't mind restrictions, or if you're blacking out the friction.
It's just an escape (it's overrated, anyways).

The hardest part is yet to come.

When you will cross the country alone.

Currently Playing
Photo Album
By Death Cab for Cutie
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Tuesday, October 19, 2004

KNN. 11 hours of sleep. Fucking missed impt lecture. Got a fucking a lot of things to do before 6pm, and so little time. What the hell is wrong with me?! ARGH!!!

P.S. Zis blog not meant for mass comsumption. No apologies if you get ze indigestion. ;)

[edit:

I don't get it sometimes, why my moods always swing from one extreme to the other. I never seem to be emotionally-balanced. I wonder if I'm surrfering from manic depression. Sometimes I'm really really happy and it seems like nothing, nothing can go wrong, but most of the time I feel cornered, trapped, and mostly by my own devices.

I know some people choose - consciously choose - to be happy, coz life is too short to be anything else. But altho I'm trying to be happy, cheerful and optimistic, when the feeling of being so cornered and claustrophobic sets in, it's hard to do anything except just feel weighed down.

And I know God daily bears my burdens, but in times like these I feel so far away from him.

I want to go home.]

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DOOBEEDOOBEEDOO

My blog readership is a lot higher than I thought. HMM. And here I am trying to avoid being ze next Bryna. But nonetheless, just a short entry at the late time of the night. Ze bitchiness is gone (for now), for those who were wondering, so I'm not angry of explosive or in my 'fuck this fuck tt' mood.

I made it on time for my Prop Law lecture. Turned on my comp at 9am, got the motherfucking bitch (okay, I lied about the 'fuck this fuck tt' mood) responding to me at 9.30am. Then it does the usual hang/lag/hang/lag; I can't open a program without a 10 min wait; I can't download any file from IVLE coz my comp will register it as an 'illegal operation', and my programs WILL hang automatically. Apparently the reason was coz my comp's virtual memory mininum was too low. (Die you fucking bitch! I freed up 8 movie files worth of disk space for you even tho I hadn't watched those movies yet! And you tell me it's not my real, but my VIRTUAL memory?!?!?!?!?!?!) So anyway I went to Control Panel to tweak with the system settings and changed the appearance of my desktop to enhance performance, so now my comp interface looks like a Win 95, but at least the damn system actually works.

I hate you you bitch.

{insert: Remind me to buy Shape magazine. I want to see if the article's on Jane too.}

So essentially I wasted my entire almost 2 hours silently cursing my laptop and well, falling asleep. Fuck. I should have just stayed in fucking bed. (Okay, I REALLY lied). Went for the Exchange talk... Oh man... I want to do my Exchange in New Zealand coz it'll be so so so gorgeous, and cool, and I'd get to do EVERYTHING I want to do from bungee off Queesntown to sky dive to hang glide to trek to just really really do all the stuff I want to do... Maybe even pick up a little of tt mountaineering stuff if possible... Or in Southampton in the UK where I'll be able to see Hsien and Mark and Yuwei and travel, and go for the Reading Festival and support ze Saints and ze Gunners... Or just in Europe like Swenden where it'll just be so different and interesting, or in Canada, just because. Or even wahaha (but I SO DOUBT) Duke Uni or Northwestern...

I want to want to want to go on Exchange... I just hope I can. *crosses fingers* Means I gotta un-fuck my grades.

Met Mona, Geox, Serene and Wendy for lunch at Arts... Vegetarian beehoon (had a craving for vege beehoon - beat THAT!) was ok, except the mock meat was damn salty and oily. Bleah. Rushed back for Trial Advo lec, which was a waste of time, tho funny, had a 'discussion with Debbie' concerning our AEIC, but fell asleep half way through coz I was so brain dead.

Came back to hall, kun-ed for 3 hours, dragged self off for dance class (was thinking of skipping, but got to admit it's a good workout), came back... and some hours later here I am...

Yeah yeah, day wasn't interesting... My life right now just seems to be more 2nd-hand than experience. Meaning I know of things through word of mouth, and not experiencing them first-hand. And to me I find tt sad, coz rarely ever anything beats the real thing.

Anyway Wanyi and I finally had tt nice chat session last night, tt ended at 2.30am (and I didn't even know! wahaha)... A lot a lot of fun. :) And ooh... it's so fascinating to see things unfold. I wish I had ice-cream toooooooooooooo tho. :( *wail* But then again babe, I agree with your point of view almost entirely.

Funny thing, one of the things we talked abt was homosexuality, as sparked off by the gay blog. Let me admit, I love voyeuring gay blogs. I haven't seen any lesbian blogs yet (darn), but gay blogs are interesting. The first one I found, the writer wrote like a girl, to be blunt. If not for knowing who he was, I would not have guessed. And not just any girl, but the ULTRA feminine sweet weak kind. But at the same time, he displayed a sense of depth of thought tt I didn't think guys would be capable of displaying, esp not online. Very sensitive and emotional... And incredibly compelling reading. Now if only he would put the *other* juicy bits in too... heh heh heh. And now the one I'm reading... it's not so obvious as he doesn't talk about his other half openly, but you can TELL. The whiny way he writes, his constant need for love and affirmation... Highly fascinating stuff.

But that said, let's face it, as I was telling Debbie today, I'm homophobic. I admitted tt in this very aptly-timed survey on the acceptance of gays in society. I will support the gay rights' movement because I'm not some crazy self-righteous religious fanatic who believes tt gay-ness is wrong or some curable disease, but I will do it because I think it's right. As in people are entitled to live life the way they choose, and no one should impose their own values on them. I have friends and acquaintances who are gay and I won't ostracise them or be mean to them or gossip about them or anything like tt.

BUT my acceptance only goes as far as image. At the end of the day it's all about image. Even tho I know you're gay and you like guys, tt's totally fine. If I see you with your boyfriend, it's fine too. But once I see physical evidence of a relationship - hand holding, kissing or worse, once you start telling me your intimate details; once REALITY intrudes on my perfect little heaven, my instinctive reaction is to recoil.

So tt said, I can't say tt I'm totally accepting of everyone. Coz I'm not. I tolerate, but I'm not accepting. I'm homophobic. I make gay jokes. I'm racist. I don't like China-Chinese (okay, I'm Chinese myself, so tt prob makes me xenophobic, not racist). I'm elitist.

My confessions, my sins. Should I admit them on my blog?

I don't really care. Coz I know no one's going to throw stones at me. After all, let's face it. You probably feel the same way about one thing or other too, no?

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Sunday, October 17, 2004

MISCELLANEOUS RANTS:

I just missed having dinner with my parents to come back to hall for some Good Luck concert rehearsals. Went to the place but it was totally empty. Checked my email again and found out tt it's next week. Kaninabe. That's all I can fucking say.

Am just fucking pissed with myself. Have been doing my best, finding all ways and means to spend as much with them as I possibly can coz I know tt they're lonely and they look forward to seeing me during the weekend, and I do miss them and what do I do? I fucking screw things up.

Fuck. Am boiling. Don't know what I'm going to do about next week. Ah fuck it lah.

Anyway just a couple of points before I go into the rest of my entry proper:

1. I HATE my comp to bits. Die you bitch die. In fact, for the unitiated 'Bitch' is the name of my comp. It's the loving nickname I give it (full name is 'Super Fucking Bitch'), esp at times when it a) lags b) hangs c) lags d) lags so badly that I just want to hurl the whole damn laptop out of the window. That's when I call it fondly by name: i.e. "Die you Bitch Die!!!"

2. I hate those stupid rich bastards driving their daddy's cars to hall. If you're a rich bastard and/or you drive your dad's car, I'm okay with you... Until you drive past me and SLOW DOWN so I can hear tt crazy hip-hop beat taunting me from within your care coz I'm fucking carrying all my stuff and walking like any other decent student. You can go crash into a tree for all I fucking care, except dear old daddy will have to pay your bills.

3. I'm a bitch. So sue me. Damn a lot of things to rant about. Sometimes you're just faced with a lot of difficult decisions and you have to make them. So I made a difficult decision, one tt's politically-incorrect. Involves a good friend of mine. But anyway it was the best alternative I could come up with since the first choice was impossible and impractical. I hope you're mature and logical enough to understand why I did it, because there was really nothing in it for me to gain, except a lot of worry, sleepless nights etc. It was all for you. And I think it was and still is the best decision to make. So it's up to you to decide if you want to blame me for it.

4. Just when I thought my problems were bad enough, a friend's come to me with problems tt are 10 x worse. It seems like 'work' isn't a part of her vocabulary any more, which is worrying. And while I hope to be of as much help and support as I possibly can, at the same time I'm grateful to be in a team tt is so bonded, united and supportive of each other.

5. I think I'm finally falling sick. Praise God!

*deep breath*

Okay, feel better. How was my weekend?

Hmm. How does 'training' count? Actually, I hope NO ONE asks me how my weekend was coz I'm sick of giving the same old answer week in week out. 'Training, training, training.' Not tt I don't like training, but it's a fucking poor excuse for an answer. Weekends are 'good' or 'bad' or 'eventful' or 'boring', but I don't even know what to call my weekends coz they're everything. All of the above, but primarily centralised around... you got it, training.

I mean seriously what else can I say? I don't touch my books at all at home. Go home, have dinner, watch TV with the 'rents, sleep. Sat morning wake up for brunch, go for TRAINING, go home for dinner, watch TV and sleep. Sun morning wake up for TRAINING at 7.45am, meet parents for lunch, go home and kunz, go church and come back hall.

You see what I mean? Training is like the highlight of my weekend. Whoever asks if my weekend is restful either a) doesn't know me; or b) is asking for a fucking beating. Weekends do NOT equate rest or social life or going out or movies or any of tt fucking crap. It means TRAINING. Get tt in your heads. T-R-A-I-N-I-N-G.

Training and good meals actually.

What did my training comprise of this weekend?
Hmm. The usual. Warm-up, Rowing, Running (on Sat), Pull-ups. And a good meal after tt with the parents (chicken stew on Sat and buffet lunch at Cafe Plaza at Hotel Parkroyal today. YUM).

But just a couple of extra points:

1. I miss my eye-candy!!! *wails* I really do... *sigh* I rem how he used to brighten up my training days, esp when I was down or kept getting zhuaed by my captain about my strokes last sem. I kind of miss tt feeling of irrational 'high' tt I get whenever I see him around and flash this huge bimbo grin to Melissa tt I have to hide from all else and sundry. And I miss those freer days before training or after training when we'd just huddle together and gossip. Heh.

2. Ze chemistry is coming back
And I think it's so amazing tt so many of our juniors seem to feel like this too. The enthusiasm they display within training and without, the way they push themselves and never give up, it shows. And I feel a swell of pride at at the same time reminiscence, coz not too long ago when I just got tt feeling it was amazing motivation.

That said the decision tt I'm making after the race is going to be a hard one. I know in practice tt I'm set on it, but emotionally I don't think I'm ready. I guess we just have to see how things go.

3. I love my teammates. I never say tt enough. I love Geox and I know tt we all have our idiosyncracies, but I hope you feel better. If it helps, I've been there a whole bunch of times. Wahaha. And I love Mona, and it worries me when I see her troubled or quiet and deep in thought and sTrEsSeD and tho she never says it, I'm not as dumb as I look. So if ever she needs (more) support, we are all gathered around her. She's not just our captain, she's our good friend (or even our sister, if you suscribe to the whole 'Hideous Twin' theory). :)

4. This point is tied in to my purpose of this super-long entry (I bet you missed my long entries, didn't you? Wahaha), but I'll just state it here. Dragonboat guys are insecure creatures.

Okay, now to main entry (... You mean the stuff above wasn't it?!?!?!?!).

Insecurity:

What do I mean by dragonboat guys are a bunch of insecure creatures?

HMM.

Rem last week the whole water bottle incident with our unbrotherly brother team? This week we've done stuff from draw on our bottles to paste red tape over them. A much ado over nothing? Well, on one hand it is just a couple (x 5) of plastic bottles. On the other hand, it's happened on more than 1 occasion, it's getting out of hand, and the difference between having 1 bottle and none at all is heat stroke and dehydration. So there.

But the thing is, we're beginning to reach the conclusion tt dragonboaters are apes. They don't seem to have gentlemanly qualities. Like on Sat when we were rowing, our boat brushed past a boat of a team of guys from one of the polys. Okay, so maybe we shouldn't have coaxed so close to them, but during competitions you have stuff like paddle fights, so tt isn't something tt should be new or unexpected. And then one of our rowers accidentally hits the coxswain of tt boat as we row past.

Result: he falls into the water (again nothing new), and this guy ends up yelling at us all the way while we're still during our charging set, and later not enough, STILL must come and tell us personally tt we knocked his coxswain into the water. I mean, what do you expect? A type-written apology letter with the NUS letterhead so you can file it up? Us to get on our hands and knees and kowtow to your coxswain? We've already apologised, for goodness sake. Show a little grace, a little gentlemanliness. You're a man for goodness sake and so's your coxswain. If you can't take this like a man, then why did you join dragonboat?

Oh, I forgot. For the muscles. You see, I've come up with this theory tt people who are insecure about themselves tend to show it more - not so much tt they're insecure, but tt they want re-affirmation. I rem talking to Marky-Mark before he left for Cambridge and disappeared off the face of Planet Earth (or at least Planet Isobel), and tt was what he said. It made sense. Like reading those blogs with cringe-worthy mushy entries, or even those with really religious yibber-yabber.... If you're going to say tt my blog's one of them (the 'religious yibber-yabber' sort, coz I'd rather rip out my tongue than write something like 'I miss my squishy-wishy cutie-wutie etc etc etc darling hunny bunch love etc etc etc' here... OMG I feel sick already. Gross gross gross.), you're absofuckinglutely right. It is.

For this reason: I AM insecure about my religion at this point in time. As someone who drifted from, challenged, turned away from the church for around 6 years, just finding my way back to Him is an amazingly difficult journey. It's one thing to start, but I have to constantly remind myself of His presence. That's why I try to keep Him all over my blog. So tt tt way I force myself to remind myself of Him and His presence in my life. See?

Therefore when you read other blogs with similar splashes of stuff, ask yourself: is it really love/adoration/piousness... or is it just plain simple insecurity?

Anyway back to dragonboat. Let's face it, for girls it's not tt big an ego thing. Sure, we do derive some pleasure out of telling people we are dragonboaters and having these looks of awe at our bulky muscles and (so-called) fitness (I'm the exception), and I LOVE, absolutely LOVE a) running/sprinting for the bus without ever missing it b) going up 3 flights of stairs to my lecture theatre at a fast pace and not finish it panting like a dog and c) eating and indulging in whatever I want to guilt-free (unless it gets banned by ze Cappie of course). :) But look at us. I mean, REALLY look at us. Sure, you have girls like Zhenyi and Meiping who still are light and slim and pretty, but the rest of us are just variations of ze Chunky Monkey.

But for guys, they get hunky and muscular. Ze tan, ze bulging muscles, breasts and stuff. So therefore there's the automatic assumption tt these are macho men. Ooh. Tan. Big. Muscular = a real man.

I used to think so myself. Now, after displays of real manliness year in year out, I think tt the majority of guys who join dragonboat are just a bunch of insecure little boys who need creatine to put tt kick into their dick. (excuse the language; I'm on a roll.) Just as dragonboat girls are not original girls, guys who join dragonboat are not original guys. On the contrary, they're less than tt.

We should just start calling them our 'sista's.

I'm not being preachy. I bet I've probably offended a lot of people with this entry. Do I care? It's my fucking blog. Got a problem? Look me up personally. I'm spoiling for a fight right now. So I admit, with increased readership I have started certain self-censoring and less name-dropping, but I feel like a bloody hypocrite if I zip my mouth shut just coz I'm afraid to offend anyone. So like I said, if you have a problem, look for me. Don't blame my blog. It's just a visible manifestation of my twisted mind.

Anyway was going to say, I'm not a secure person either. DUH. I think I'm very insecure. Fortunately, I'm not a spineless loser who needs reassurance every single day. I don't see a need to get a bf just coz I'm ashamed to be single (the charges tt I am a) lesbian b) evil c) ugly bounce off me like ping pong balls! Wahaha); I don't need lunch partners or shopping partners or movie partners coz I love my own company; but YES. Sometimes I do get down and depressed. Sometimes I do get lonely and sometimes I do need re-affirmation. So tt's a confession for you. I'm a self-professed egg. I'm hard on the outside but soft on the inside. I don't show it; most people think I'm hard, cool, aloof, etc, but I'm not. Like everyone else, I want approval. Sometimes I want it more than anyone else. I am vulnerable, I do get hurt, and when I get hurt, I get hurt BAD, tt's why I'm always keeping up this steel front to prevent people from gaining access and hurting me. Of course, I've made the wrong choices. Of course, I've paid for them. And I've paid in instalments with interest, in full, for a long time.

So yes, I'm not immune. I'm insecure. So sue me. But PLEASE, PLEASE I implore you please keep the mush-factor off your blog or sponsor my vomit bags! Thanks.

[edit: OMG I found ze blog of tt gay dragonboater! Whoohoo. What a find. Looks like potential interesting reading. :) But it begs the bastardised quote: "There's something rotten in ze state of dragonboat" tho. Oh well. Whoohoo. I love being a voyuer. Imagine all ze stuff I could do with a video cam. 0_o !!!

...

...

Kidding!

Anyway apparently some people can't get enough of rowing.
"U all dun look down..."
"U all dun look down... it's a bad habit."

Okay, okay! We GET it all right?

Hmm... You think if creatine affects brain power, can you make someone go 'ouch' on Sunday by whacking him with your bottle of water on Sat? Coz even if Melissa doesn't want to try this out, *my* fingers are so itching too!

I believe in a thing called LOVE!

Touching yoooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Touching meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

...

Okay. Back to work.]

Currently Playing
Permission to Land
By Darkness
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Saturday, October 16, 2004

Hey guys, sorry for the scare. I'm ok, not depressed or suicidal or anything like in those TV ads. I don't need psychiatric counselling or tranquilizers even if NUH provides them free for NUS students. Just this feeling I get, esp with all the training and hall stuff and my feeling like I don't have the time or the energy to study for my exams and being screwed in the ass, literally.

Was just really really tired. Lacked sleep, bogged down, too many commitments (and this is even though I' making a conscious decision to heck all my IHG trainings till December. Have spoken to all the captains already, and they understand. But if later they buay song, I'm dropping out. Simple as tt), feel very enclosed.

But I guess the weekend rejuvenated me. Home is actually stress-free. Loving parents, comfy bed, first time in my week 9 hours of uninterrupted sleep (as opposed to 4 and 5 hours every day), water training... *dreamy sighz*

Training tomorrow morning at 7.45am. It would just be a whole lot better if my parents would stop quietly telling me to stop going for training and nagging so bloody much. Other than tt... Good good.

Besides tt, just want to say I love Mojo Jojo and Tee-Nee!

I miss Jane!

I love my teammates!

I miss my eye-candy... *wails*

OMG, someone likes someone I know! GOSSIP. Eh, but please don't tell me now leh... Kaoz.

Okay, longer update tomorrow when less bogged. Mabe I'll finally post tt nice analytical entry on (in)security tt I've been intending to post for ages and ages. And OMG, but mushy blog entries make me want to hurl. Gross. Okay, bye bye.

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Friday, October 15, 2004

	I see no beauty in myself. I'm filled with self-loathing for the person I become sometimes. I know I shouldn't but sometimes it's hard not to hate myself. Sometimes I can't even understand why. It's just a feeling. Fuck.
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Wednesday, October 13, 2004

MID WEEK BLUES

I don't know how to describe how I feel now. It's literally along the lines of over-burdened, lost, tired and moody. It's once again like I know what my priorites and obligations are, but I don't know how the fuck to say no in favour of them.

I'm so tired. Training is becoming a chore. It's one thing to have training, but this nagging feeling in the back of my head to keep pushing myself, to go for runs and extra trainings outside of training itself, is weighing me down. This weird feeling of guilt I get when I don't train, it's just stopped making sense.

I don't know why I'm training as hard as I can. I used to know what it was, but I don't know what it is anymore. I've lost it. Something tells me it's the race in November, but common sense, logic, sense of self-preservation and the weight of both my parents' as well as my own hopes on my shoulders tells me nothing is or should be more inportant than the grades I get for my exam this sem. Right now at the rate I'm going, I'll be lucky to get a C for something.

Fucking screwed. Everyone's mugging. Correction: everyone's mugging and STILL has a social life. They still get to go out and watch movies, go clubbing. I don't have time for fuck and I'm still struggling. I take forever to study one fucking chapter. Everything I read might as well be in fucking Greek.

I don't know. God, I know I should praise you in all things. You didn't come to us to make life easy for us, but you've blessed us with everything we need, and we should be instruments through which you can use us for your glory. But it's so hard to praise you with all my burdens weighing on me. I know, I know tt you said "Praise be to the Lord, to God our Saviour, who daily bears our burdens" (Psalms 68:19), but somehow I feel so distant and far away.

And I feel so alone in this. Among all the people around me, it just feels like no one understands. Everyone in Law just has to worry about work, and they're stressed enough. And other people have chosen their paths. And I think I've decided on mine, but I can't go down tt path if it means sacrificing something tt means so much to me. It tears me apart. I don't know what to do. I just feel so so tired.

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Tuesday, October 12, 2004

	My father once told me, that loneliness is the greatest sickness there is. And I think he's right.
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Tuesday, October 12, 2004

absolutum dominium

Friday, October 01, 2004

Recovering My Past #8: October 2004

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