it's weird. i get to now go home at early times when i can actually see my way out of the building without having to use mel's flashlight phone. and i feel so slack. or something. it just doesn't feel right. and don't get me started on the work. that looks like it could fill the marianas trench. and somehow i'm still staying up later than during season.

wanna debate againnnn....

how suicidal can i get :|


we were gods, i tell you.
we were f***ing gods.
and everybody knew our name.
...
faded into obscurity,
but some remembered, still the same.

uhh. k. everything's over. hooray. back to work. phooey.

debate. was scared shitless. now finals. am more worried.

its interesting, how the straits times tries to justify this. i mean, i know he's capable of leading the country and all, but why justify it as "proof that our political succession works"? there are better ways to justify it, and really, i don't buy it. certainly it isn't nepotism (really). he's had his time to prove himself. yes, it is a big deal to singapore, but WHY bring political succession into it? oh, and all the testimonies from the "average man on the street" (3) and the "average MP on the street" (also 3). practically farcical.

oh, who am i trying to kid. it is

oh gods. my dog thinks my hamsters are food. it just tried to eat it. while they look like bite sized snacks, they're not edible.

stupid dog.

hooray for debate! we won everything, and i do mean everything :D 'twas fantastic, the coordination and the analysis and stuff..let's keep it up! despite flower sniffing...>P

rmun fashion parade was painful. i mean, it just didn't seem as funny as my years. maybe it's just me, but it just was..draggy. gah. spent 14 bucks on a cab down too because i was scared i was gonna be late...>( they'd better recompense me for that! >P

ugh. brain dead. guess why.

so cool/freaky (to be played at 1 am in the morning).

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. computing pwned everyone. possibly because we were tested on things we weren't taught yet. graah.

on the bright side, brudder is now a metalmouth. conversation goes something like this.
me: "say 'ee'."
bro: "go 'way. i can't eat english food now. rare steak i hear you calling..."
-short pause-
"well, we could mash them."
"shut up."
"i mean, what about steak tartare? soft and non-chewy-ish."
"shut up."
"or we could have mashed potatoes. that fits the bill."
*thump*
"ow. or...wait for it...shepard's pie! two in one! bonus! owowow..."

heehee.

omg. i just got down to looking at the World of Warcraft screenshots (having given up on my midyears) and OMG they PWN j00r 455. +0+4||y. AAAAAAAAaa.

i think i'm in love.

WAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA! PWNAGE!!!!

i slapped my brother. he slammed the door. and windows. i suppose it was justifiable in a way. both ways. tell me, what do you do with recalcitrant little buggers who refuse to sleep? and believe in giggling as the main form of entertainment, along with randomly playing with the intercom and reading books?

then again, what right do i have?

hello world. am back from conquering ophir with battle scars. my blisters have blisters (apparently), and my muscles are attempting to put me through yoga, even though i don't want to. blister on arm and palm are related, thanks to a reflex action which sees me slamming my hand on hot oil that lands on my arm during camping before the ophir trip. so i go climbing mudhills with open wounds. unfun. but the actual climbing was quite fun, surprisingly. everyone was supremely uncomfortable, but happy nonetheless. unless you were sleeping next to my brothers, in which you risked a knee in the ribs somewhere around 2 am in the night if you were lucky. if not, you wouldn't sleep because they'd hog the sleeping bag we use for blankets, and this would probably spoil your whole morning. the situation was not helped either by the fact that little brothers are motormouths, and do not stop talking. ever. even when you're attempting to navigate a vertical cliff face and feeling like little bugs are stabbing you with knives, they persist in pretending to be stuck in a war zone. which is partly true. getting them to stop deserves a purple heart for compassion to fellow human beings.

ok screw this. the fact that i can sleep in a proper bed after 1 week means more to me right now. will continue later.

PARENTAL

ADVISORY

QUETZALOVERCOATL CONTAINS EXPLICIT LYRICS

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com

How to make a quetzalovercoatl

Ingredients: 1 part friendliness 3 parts crazyiness 3 parts instinct

Method: Combine in a tall glass half filled with crushed ice. Add a little lovability if desired!

Username:

Personality cocktail
From Go-Quiz.com

goobyeworld. off to ophir. if i dont come back alive i've been sucked dry by leeches.

ahmagawd. just came back from count basie's orchestra. WHOOOO. funfunfunfunfun :D was really good. from the vocalist to the drummer. butch miles owns as a drummer, and james leary is an AMAZING bassist. great stuff.

ahh, preusem. its been one day and already i miss the group. after all the stuff we did, its hard to forget the bonds forged. i mean, i doubt any of us will forget vidhi's wonderful eccentricity and her "coy" rendition of "wo yao ni de ai", or mark's rendition of the same and his "little boy's" shampoo ad. or benjamin's pool jumping. or eddie's bridge. and peiling's laugh. how about our slo vladimir johannes ("djugashvili") cute indonesian accent that got better as the days went on (just like the food)? how about CHUBBY BUNNY!!! and our friendly neighbourhood murderer sudeshna with her mouth full of marshmallows. and pooja's multiple names and handphone conversations. viknesh's and ben's 69 enquiries. whee...it was just really really fun. just like the cheers. and staying up late on the last night, bribing the guards and watching the sketch show while playing bridge and chinese chess. priceless.

i also now know that speaking to xxx newspaper reporters is bloody hazardous for one's health. they will misquote you and get everything wrong while subverting objective reporting. gods, that was bad. though the presentation was fun :D all the innuendoes and mistaken identities..;p oh, and trying to avoid teachers on the last night puts you at risk for a heart attack from anything. and swearing was extremely excessive that night, i know.

maan. preusem. for all those involved, participants and slos and all those i know, i salute you.

i wondered where i could get a life. then i realised i didn't have time for it.

i think i took on too much. it's the problem of not just being a jack of all trades, but trying to be good at it with the problem of procrastination compounding the work.

3 weeks just doesn't seem enough.

bloody term exams.

things to talk about...a lot. for one, i managed to procure saki. for the unenlightened, saki is quite possibly one of the best authors of short stories, period. who can forget sredni vashtar, or the children who clamoured for an "improper story". say what you want about modern realist novels that believe sales are directly proportionate to the vulgarities present in the book, there's something that has to be said for recalcitrant authoritarian nannies, bigoted upper class english lords and ladies and subtle, satrical wit. saki and wodehouse. if you haven't read them...WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR.

which brings me to the next random topic of conversation - acoustics. specifically in my house. i just realised that it's got echoes that manage to subtly smooth out the squawks in anyone's voice. instant bathroom baritone. just add water. if you ever hear a disembodied voice wandering around the house and perforating everyone's eardrums, no worries. it's just me. unfortunately, like everything else there is a downside, and in this case it's hard to a) hear when people are calling you and b) hear when people are replying, at least the issue of "hear clearly". muffled sounds like "grnfgrnfgrfnarg" only make more sense when you get within 5 steps and can see that brother is flailing hand with embedded hamster teeth in.

this is basically for those who complain i dont post....:|

and does ANYONE want hamsters. please. i think i've another lot coming.

gmail is nifty. send mail there if possible. for those who know it, it's the friendly aztec god again. for those who don't, ask those who do. :D

somatic markers

your generation is fed
on birth control, rock and roll
and bytes of a bygone era
when gripping trees was the only exercise we had for our
fingers, that now grasp canes and tremble
helplessly, in the face of the internet.

you say you know of iraq, and reel
off statutes, figures and names on your
fingers that wave so confidently with your
arrogance (it seems almost blinding,
your transition from gelem to golem that
i bet you can't see the gleam
you have become of a machine)
it's in your eyes.

i bet you can't feel when the images
flicker past you like so many pictures
you see in the papers (but you always turn to the funnies
don't you?)
carnage flickers past quickly, filed into storage, ready for
recall, but really, they mean nothing to one accustomed in thinking
in ones and zeroeths. (the computer thinks not of its files, it just
is).
emotions, hah! an anachronism
in the 30th century! and the world today is
fastfastfast, we want speedspeed, more t1, t2, t3
gigabytes of information pouring down thy eyes -
from truth to death,
you know everything, and yet you know nothing.

you know not of the rain on your face, or the joy it is to
run free, or the power that a tree's crown can give you.
your sunlight only falls on your face, only your mind runs
free[d] in your mind on the information superhighway,
and your crown of viruses stops all traffic.
progress is a good thing, we shall not miss the old,
you say, with quiet confidence
and who are we to argue with the future?
your jungle is concretized, your seabed electrified
we are interconnected
and that is good.

you will not miss us, we are the misshapen clay.
creators shall go back to the shadows, you are the next
step in a world that cloned dolly,
you myelinated sheaths overrule our emotional heartbeat,
cogitational machinery rules the world.
we are your fastfast-frankenstein, your stitched-together zombie
we are what you made us,
and we will rule the world we built,
plugged-in, spell-bound,
and numb.

i'll go saaaiiiillin'..,

mood of the moment - remniscing
music of the moment - robbie williams - beyond the sea