Sunday, March 23, 2008 @ 6:19 AM
okay! this shall be my final post before i retreat into the hell known as OCS.
im freaking scared now. i just read some forum on OCS life. and i guess i should OOC liddat le.
i need more motivation to push on for now. haha.
looking forward to commissioning~
cya in 3 weeks guys. ill miss yall sorely.
Saturday, March 22, 2008 @ 6:04 AM
only one word to accurately describe how my body feels: 痛!
and when u thought you could handle a simple sunburn, you realize how foolish your feeble thinking can be.
my back is red like lobster lah.
went to cat high for wushu 测试 today. this year is less packed than the previous, so the atmosphere is not really that realistic as compared to the actual competition.
saw some zai people, saw the noobs come and go. haha. but its all in good spirits yeah?
and then the group events. cant say much lah. AJ wushu decided to pull stunt and slack. nehmind, ill take it as though you guys dunwan our opponents to see our true strength. can, can.
went pastamania makan. first time i ate TWO pastas. and i was still hungry.
family went to makan at this seafood restaurant down the road. IMBA.
and i finally dug out my old piano scores and practiced. since ages ago. lol.
okay. i am officially bored to death.
OCS on monday. goddamn. scared.
Friday, March 21, 2008 @ 8:52 AM
today was a great day!
went sentosa with clarissa, mathilda. aaron, daryl.
major sunburn. haha. it was fun nonetheless. i haven had so much fun since.. well, a really long time.
we swam, we slept, we played ball, we had lunch, we had drinks.. all in the sun. and we took photos! haha.
price to pay: really painful back, arms, neck, shoulders. and dunno why my right upper thigh. argh.
i got my posting order as well. im headed for OCS on monday.
so i shall RIP as of monday. disappear from the world again. i hope i shall be sorely missed.
i have so many things left to do. some of priority, some of not. some things which have been kept suppressed inside of me for too long, so many things left unsaid.
i think i seriously need a proper lesson in reading subtle body language.
ciaoz!
Wednesday, March 19, 2008 @ 7:37 AM
im gonna do something i havent done in a long time. im gonna narrate.
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he, was there. he was there, on a chair, in a room of four walls of grey.
the light of the moon was cast in through a square window in the far corner, providing him the warmth of the night, and pale light casting shadows in the flickering yellow of the lone bulb on the ceiling.
through the flickers one can see an artist's canvas of pure white -- of emptiness; of calm and serenity. white cast against the shadows of the night; stark contrast to the demeanor of the world and its melancholy. yes, white seemed empty, in the dark, dark night.
he picked his tools -- brush of fine horse hair, and assortment of vivid paint beneath his chair. the colors of his tools seemed out of place in his dark, dark world.
of his own accord, his hands started moving across the canvas, with meaning, with purpose. colors began staining the once calm canvas.
joyful yellow. strong blue. teasing purple. loving pink. passionate red.
and even more so, the colors of his tools seemed out of place in this dark, dark world.
in his painting, there was a woman. she was kneeling in a meadow of grass. there was nothing else, but the blue sky and white fluffy clouds made out of dreams, hopes and aspirations.
but suddenly, he changed.
the blue sky turned black as night. grey overwhelmed the white clouds of dreams, turning into that of hate, jealousy and hypocrisy.
lightning cracked overhead, and the scream of the heavens was deafening.
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i think i shall stop here for now. i havent decided on a suitable ending for this story.
@ 7:22 AM
today has got to be one of the worst days of my life.
cant cram too many stuff into 24 hours, i think its too stressful.
clean my army stuff, crap in the toilet till i leave the house late. supposed to go swimming.
heaven emo-ed and decided to pull a fast one on me. saw some light in a referee's letter to NUS scholarship.
teacher had course until 1730 hours. supposed to meet early to get good seats during lecture. at 1700 my dear friend was at tanah merah. haha.
somehow my phone stylus decided it didnt like the way i was tapping it against the screen and eloped with another.. i dunno it disappeared.
my next stylus cost me another whopping on my wallet.
cab drivers are assholes during peak hours. stfu.
being late for lecture = no admittance to LT. you get to watch from another room with a view cam instead.
great.
but.. the lecture was IMBA.
how on earth do you combine human behavioral patterns with economics? i have no idea, but somehow it works. and people, statistics dont lie.
a gambler's addiction utilizes the same part of the brain as a heroine addict. or any other drug addict for that matter. wow lah.
Sunday, March 16, 2008 @ 5:28 AM
i realise that now im home i can blog more often.
the past 2 days have been eventful. went out and spent time with my friends. patronized universities. had a pretty girl on my arm. haha.
went to NUS yesterday. it had high school reunion written all over it. met up with the pretty girl, watched movie, go jalan jalan. cos her bf went bintan! hahaha.
okay jkjk lah. we had ktv session on my dad at night! haha.
expensive cab fare. CS u owe me money.
went out with the pretty girl again today. made her smile. i think i must be the proudest guy in the world today. haha.
you made me happy too, girl.
Friday, March 14, 2008 @ 6:28 AM
i just came across this story in my email from nyuk. and i think i must really share this with the world.
this is a recollection of a piano teacher who took in a student she thought hopeless. and this is her story:
Robby's Night
At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story. My name is Mildred Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines, Iowa. I've always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons-something I've done for over 30 years. Over the years I found that children have many levels of musical ability.. I've never had the pleasure of having a prodigy though I have taught some talented students.
However I've also had my share of what I call 'musically challenged' pupils. One such student was Robby. Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single Mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby.
But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student. Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel but he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn.
Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly lesson he'd always say, "My mom's going to hear me play someday." But it seemed hopeless. He just did not have any inborn ability. I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never stopped in.
Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons. I thought about calling him but assumed because of his lack of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else. I also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed to the student's homes a flyer on the upcoming recital. To my surprise Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing "Miss Hondorf, I've just got to play!" he insisted.
I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right. The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my "curtain closer."
Well, the recital went off without a hitch. The students had been practicing and it showed, then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he'd run an eggbeater through it. 'Why didn't he dress up like the other students?' I thought. 'Why didn't his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?'
Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart's Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to fortissimo, from allegro to virtuoso. His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people his age. After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause.
Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby in joy. "I've never heard you play like that Robby! How'd you do it?" Through the microphone Robby explained: "Well, Miss Hondorf, Remember I told you my Mom was sick? Well, actually she had cancer and passed away this morning and well... She was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special."
There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.
No, I've never had a prodigy but that night I became a prodigy of Robby's. He was the teacher and I was the pupil for it is he who taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance in someone and you don't know why.
Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995.
if you read this and have no feelings of regret, sorrow or repentance; i would really say you lack a certain humane streak.
rest in peace, robby.
@ 5:15 AM
wahh.. really useless. one month one post.
anyway. POP already. officially no longer REC rank.
life still goes on.
i find myself caught in a moral dilemma.
to speak or not to speak? to advise or not to advise?
i must now caution myself when i rationalize. not to overlook certain aspects which are sensitive to human nature and feelings. i must not turn into a cold-blooded unfeeling THING which has only objective in mind.
what happened to my empathy? what happened to my sensitivity?
i have no right to address issues like that. they are, and should be, merely trees by the roadside.
ignorance should prove to be advisable in this matter. but why cant i seem to let it pass?
but is it time and time again i give in to my instincts to care?
i have failed dismally in this arena. and yet i prove to be unaccepting of my history.
its just not fair.
not fair that life treats me that way. not fair that im not given second chances. not fair that i should have to be the one on the outside.
life has a way of making things right. and i can only hope that the path which i tread, which i follow, proves to be the one leading to happiness.
and i can only pray, that while i take my steps on the gravel; that i may not wander from thy stone pavement, lest i fall into the ravine hidden by the clouds and shadow.
life is not fair.