Archive for February, 2009

Rain-[expletive deleted]-bows indeed

February 26, 2009

No smoke without fire; no rainbows for people to gush over and discuss animatedly along with other gossip without torrential, Asian, monsoon, pitch-destroying downpours, replete with sky-splitting lightning and head-rattling thunder all serving to ruin perfect weather for a much-needed mind-numbingly relaxing game of Ultimate.

Not that I saw it, seeing how I was shut away at home due to rain. Might not have done my spirits much good to know there’s no hope for another world-destroying 40-day-long Flood-causing downpour though.

Bollocks, quick peek at archives seem to show a steady progression into unwarranted, fake depression. Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine and not cutting myself yet.

With apologies to the Bard

February 20, 2009

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I’ll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?

– Spike Milligan

It’s better than continued lament of my self-consciously perceived continuing tortured existence

En-rich-men-T

February 19, 2009

Xian is done with more than 1500 words of Raffles Enrichment Programmes™ applications.
In unrelated news, Xian is feeling more and more dog-tired and just wants to chill out with five hours of Ultimate. Instead, he has eight hours of class to relish and enjoy tomorrow.

In another unrelated note, 4pm is a very tranquil time of day. Especially when there happens to be a quiet street bathed in sunlight interspersed with shadows. It’s not tranquil, it’s beautiful. And when you drink it up and bask in the quiet warmth, walking slowly and enjoying the silence, the lightest of clouds creep up and those exquisitely cast shadows slowly fade to the colour of the grey tarmac. There’s only one word to describe that: beautiful-er.

Five isn’t really very reasonable

February 18, 2009

I’ve had half a tutorial in three days (KI and Chinese don’t count) and I’m dog-tired. RI(JC) is killing me. Either that or being woken up an hour earlier than usual by SMS reminders to go for Inter-house bridge. Which, amazingly, BW might do better than 4th place at. No telling until [insert house committee member’s name]’s peppy email with over-the-top hightlighting, CAPS, and four too many different font sizes for tonight’s IHC update.

(I hate myself for being such a whiner)

Edit; Congratulations to BW’s Bridge people for the amazing 2nd place. And everyone else involved in the other IHC events?

Of Drunken Dreams and Sober Lips

February 17, 2009

Morning’s golden eye peers through
An unfamiliar window.
Sleep flees like the morning dew;
I’m dragged from rough motel sheets.

Standing with rank, cheap, coffee in hand
I’m shivering in the December chill
Cursing this “wintery wonderland”
Wondering why I’d traveled north at all.

Half open suitcase along the wall,
Rummaged through; clothes and things lie flung aside.
Yesterday’s clothes, all piled on the floor.
Now, time to repack. All of it. Quickly.

Gathering it up and stuffing it all in
I find I’m putting the now cold coffee down and
Warming up instead with a shot of gin
Before continued pre-checkout drudgery.

I shave and wash in freezing water;
Last night’s beer makes excellent breakfast.
In the carpark, bags in hand, I loiter
Just a moment, then, all packed up, I go.

I’m following frosty country roads
Through naked forest and across frozen streams,
And unless the beat-up car can’t take the load
I won’t stop for anyone or anything

Because that’s the way travel really is.
For when you holiday with no one else
You slowly see that something’s amiss.

The trees race by in unending blurs
Impassive like your rock-carved face.
You’ll find yourself wishing it all back to the way it was:
To still be drunk on dreams behind stone-cold-sober lips.

Canonised Christian Martyr Feast Day Greetings

February 14, 2009

or, happy Valentine’s.

Before anything else though, kudos and high praise to RI(JC) Entrepreneurs Club for their spirit of opportunistic capitalism. Thank your for your invaluable service of providing economic stimulus by enticing individuals to invest hundreds of dollars on a hundred-and-one roses, to be sent anonymously. Or the copious amounts of stalks sold individually, those too.

Not that I’m bashing anyone of course. Or bitterly disillusioned and cynical. Heaven forbid the thought! In fact, I’ll banish any doubts you might have by repeating (in, may I mention, an altogether cheerful manner) my earlier salutations:

Festive Pagan Festival Greetings
Happy Valentine’s Day! [smiley]
Especially to all of you having fun at home in front of the computer [another smiley!]

That aside, I’ve completely forgotten what I intended to blog about.
That is, until I tried to open a webpage and wasted minutes of time.
[insert 1500 character rant about Starhub and slow internet connections]
[insert 900 character whine for faster, more reliable connections]
[insert blank space for time (approximately 30 minutes) wasted testing and comparing connections and ISPs]
[insert 500 character wish for switch to Singtel]
[End]

Reread

February 11, 2009

[Enter Xian]

Xian is reading Kafka. Isn’t that the first step of ascension to the heights of pretension?

In other news, Ultimate is dog-tiring yet fun, work has officially started, and I’m afraid of super muggers in my class.

[Exit Xian]

February 6, 2009

O’ Tiero 2009: Unity

When we look back
Wasn’t it just yesterday
I couldn’t find the words to say
To fill the empty silence
To break the awkward moments
A little smile and laughter shared
A friendship sparked because you cared
This path we tread wont be smooth
But together, we will pull though

Prechorus:
Walking hand in hand, heart to heart,
Joining voices to sing and dance
When I start this song, you’ll sing along,
And we can just go on and on and on

Chorus:
When we look back, will we remember
Each moment of this year?
The days that mark out time in here
Threaten to disappear
All that we have’s the present
To cherish while we can
Seizing every chance we’re blessed with
And leave with no regrets

Took a firm step in this place
Wishes, hopes, we’re in a daze
The cold walls are taunting
Just where’s the warmth within?

Whenever you call my name
Across the corridor
The madness of chasing dreams
Doesn’t matter anymore

Prechorus

Chorus

Bridge:
rough winds only bring us higher
tough fights only make us stronger
yet knowing we’ve got one another
we’ll stick together more than ever
yeah…. yeah….

Chorus x2

All the friends we’ve made we won’t forget
We’ll leave with no regrets
These two years no regrets
These two years no regrets

It’s lovely isn’t it? It’d be wonderful to leave (and live) with no regrets; to know there’s a voice out there that can chase away the madness of the soul; to know that, “As Rafflesians, you’ll never have to face it alone.”

A friendship sparked because you cared
What fire starts without a spark; what spark flames without fuel?

Really, is orientation any more than a flint to which tinder and wood must be provided? Apologies to those left on a high; is it really possible to build heart-to heart relationships in 70-odd hours? Are you going to mourn a death in the family with someone you’ve shared a few jokes with? Can you share your hopes and dreams and expect loving support from someone you’ve participated in activities with? Can failures and successes, ambitions and dark secrets, heart and soul, be poured out to someone with whom you’ve only chatted about the same boat you’re in? (edit: am I always this bitter?_)

Of course, that’s not to say there’s anything the matter with enjoying orientation. With knowing new people or with having fun with them. But it’s certainly only just started, and it’s surely too early to have built very much of very great importance. I hope.

So, tell me, how are friends made in a matter of days and hours? How are people, when put, not drawn, together, able to hit it off just like (fingersnap) that?

mood: frustrated, undirectedly envious, somewhat depressed

February 4, 2009

Hmmm, apologies for yesterday’s post. Writing when tired too late in the evening is akin to being drunk for me.

A great many things and so much to think; too little to say, nothing spoken. Drunk on dreams behind stone-cold-sober lips.

Eloquently chronicling ineloquent inarticulateness aside, it’s now time to attempt banishing that inarticulateness.

I learnt something new today. That’s one of those life tips you always hear right? Learn something new every day. Or change something if you find yourself waking up dreading a new day. Or do one thing you’ve never done before. Well, upstairs exclamations in my home produce excellent echoes when the house is empty. Either that or my “woo!” hits resonant frequencies in the structure. Long story short I’m in frisbee cca, which kinda seems like it would be a good thing. Fingers crossed then.

Still feel odd in OG. Maybe I’m just shy/antisocial. Or perhaps I possess a hidden quality that makes me incredibly repungent. I’m Waiting to see.

Other thoughts racing through my head; streaked long exposure photos of the carnival are thoughts not-quite-exploding into word-covered-paper, coming to fruition in sticky, overripe messes. Not worth the bother.

February 3, 2009

Xian wants to write something meaningful, witty, novel, funny, interesting, or at least original and mildly entertaining. Instead he’s filling this space with mindless drivel for the sake of… mindless drivel (aka, for the sake of filler)

[insert promise to switch to a less useless blogskin. Or maybe to WordPress.]

Apparently, my weakest of the multiple intelligences is interpersonal intelligence. I’m sure it’s around-work-able. (Why am I even posting this. I’m such an attention whore.)

Orientation tomorrow go! (?)