Happy Birthday Yuting.
(:

Yeah.

Every second gone is history, having passed by us, leaving us and never making another appearance. Every second makes a cameo appearance - we only get to see it once in this show, which we call our lives. As human beings, all we can do is reminiscence and hope for a same experience. Initially we wish fervently, as our thoughts are occupied with pleasant lingering thoughts. Gradually it turns into a semi-existent longing, an indulgence, something which is time-consuming to ponder about. Eventually we will no longer spend any effort on recalling, our desire having waned. However, this is but a cycle.

After those huge smiles, we start hoping again, not realising it's just a remnant of the past.

**

Devoid of hope, all he wanted to do was exorcise the demon inside. Yet, he was powerless, because it controlled him with ease, and he could do nothing to be ordinary again. Then again, there was a way out.

A special way.

**

Good luck to those taking Chinese O's on Monday!
Aim high, but don't shoot low.
Now, you know you can do it.

Someday we all die.
Why not now?

**

And even if hope found its way to me, it would shudder in disgust and leave in a hurry. Hope has been sucked dry from me; all I see now is the never-ending darkness in the horizon. Proclaiming 'I'm a Ninja and I'll kill you!' is just a form of perverted release, because I have the urge to murder. The only problem lies with the fact that I'm on top of the list. Thankfully I'm not a Ninja.

When too many things run through your mind, when you try to process too many thoughts simultaneously, you eventually transform into a frustrated and irritated person. You drift into your own world, and built your own imaginary scene - one of struggle, rejection and anguish. You claw your way through the sand, your feet blocks of lead, your hands bound together. You're fighting a losing battle as the sun sets... When the predators come out and play...

**

I never post lyrics, but this has just made me laugh my ass off, even on such a morbid day. System of a Down deserves special mention, so I'll just paste a small part of the song here, and you should go figure how the song really goes.

Liar [moan]
Liar [moan]
Liar [demon moan]
Banana banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie!
Banana banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie!
Banana banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie!
Banana banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie!
Banana banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie!
Banana banana banana banana terracotta banana terracotta terracotta pie!

[Vicinity of Obscenity - System of a Down]

Yeah, weird, but it's not uncommon.
Still very scary.

Anybody it experienced it before?
Immobility before the onset of sleep/after waking up.

If there's any problems,
there are ways to cope with Sleep Paralysis!

On the other hand, you might just turn it into a lucid dream.
Nice.

Men don't cry.
Boys cry, when they're alone.

**

It's either an implosion or an explosion.

Nights seem so long they claw at my brain, and the days just seem to past in a meaningless manner. I hate it when you take away my sleep. I want to sleep without dreams. I want to sleep without the momentous horror and terror. I want to sleep without having to break out of an imaginary strangle. I want to sleep in comfort. I want to sleep in peace.

Is it just me?

It's not worth holding on when you're holding on for the sake of not letting go; that's a totally moronic act.

Then again, it might be worth it if you see the cause in holding on, a reason to persevere and not to give up.

**

I'm sick of just trying to convince myself of the detrimental effects of something and doing the direct opposite 30 seconds later. I thought it was time to just let up. However, something in me keeps dragging the whole ship behind; making me lose all the momentum I've gained. This cannot and should not go on, but it does. This process is repeated duly on a daily basis.

You don't know, but I do know.
I know too well.

**

No more second chance.
It was all over, too long a time ago.

A good fifteen years into life, and I have never once asked you once what you wanted for Mothers' Day. It's not that I don't want to, it's not that I don't know how to, but it has never once occurred to me to even ask. I know deep down in your heart you probably want a gift, but on the other hand you might not want me to spend money on anything.

It hasn't even occurred to me to wish you 'Happy Mothers' Day', albeit sincerely, for the past 14 years. But within the next few hours, rest assured, Mum, you'll hear me mouth those 3 words. I don't know how much it means to you, but as I grow up, I know begin to realise how much you mean to me. Perhaps I just don't show it enough.

When I think about why you resigned from your job after my birth and cut yourself off from the outside world, I realise it probably had to be a difficult decision. When I think about how you go about fulfilling your daily duties as a housewife, it dawned upon me that this had to be a very mundane task. Yet you slog on, without a single complaint.

I know he got you a flower. It looks beautiful. I could bet he's sincere. I felt a twinge of guilt prick me the other day, but till this day it baffles me as to why I never get you anything. Worse still, for the past 14 years, I've never even considered writing something for you. Dad will probably see this. And if you do, I hope you read this and never tell me you did. Just stay happy and don't get angry at him so often; I know he doesn't like being scolded as well.

I don't excel at organizing my thoughts. I might have said this already, but with my coming of age, I finally realise what a good role model you are. I've been looking around, observing and analyzing, and let's put it this way: if every Mum in the world was like you, the world would be a better place. I understand that you want the best for us, and that you have high expectations. Everything you have done or said has influenced me in one way or another and I know you have played a big part into moulding me into who I am now.

I really wish I could speak to you with more patience sometimes.
It's not like it's your fault.
Sorry.


I love you Mum.
Happy Mothers' Day.

Running around like mad chickens for the ball and tiring ourselves out within... A split second. It's like everything I've known since I was a primary school kid evaporated into thin air; I feel very clumsy with a soccer ball on my feet, I can barely shoot straight and hardly pick out a pass.

Well, I haven't played soccer more than 10 times in my 4 years in Catholic High. Honestly, I was literally screaming today. It is depressing when you think of the times when you used to be able to slide the ball cleanly into the corner, send your team-mate free with one (almost) magical pass and play with confidence.

No, I wasn't exuberating confidence. Not even an ounce of it. Then again, soccer's just for leisure. Well, I still think it was fun today, however horribly I performed. Soccer still has a place in my heart.

(Ignatius Lim Wei Jie > All of us in soccer!)

**

Hey people, have fun at Joshua's house.
I'm like stuck here, trying to do some...
Chinese work.

**

Suddenly, anger gets the better of you. It dims your judgment and you fly into a rage, slamming your fists onto the desks, hammering the walls with all your might.

It's not good to be like this.

I overslept on the bus and went to Changi Airport like twice in one week. Once today, and another time on Monday or last Friday. Everything seems like a blur, especially when you wake up and find yourself greeting the Budget Terminal, Terminal 1 and 2. After cursing heartily at my high level of stupidity and inability to wake up, I start staring into the blue sky sparsely populated by clouds, and think of the exams the next day.

I tried knocking my head on the window, but that didn't turn back time.
Shit.

**

7 other people and 1 spent $7 each to watch Tom Cruise jump from building to building, shoot down helicopters and gun down other pathetic shooters with 1 bullet. (While those pathetic shooters wasted like 10 rounds each but to no avail.) I think the moral of the story is...

I mean, it's like Mission Impossible 3. It's hard thinking of a moral for the story! Don't pressure me please. See, I made some headway already.

'Who's hot doesn't die!'
Like Maggie Q. (Sizzling hot I tell you.)

Man, I would die to work for the I.M.F.
Go figure.

**

Back to oversleeping. I realised that I drifted into dreamland only because my brain juices were still churning when the internal battery was running low; I was pondering over how to structure this blog entry. Well, having not written for well over a week, I can only try to make sense here. Apparently 1324134134317289371 people are waiting for me to update.

(Yeah right. Spot the bold number.)

**

The good ol' knuckle-to-knuckle was all he had to believe in. The noise seeped into his earbuds. Right leg or left leg into the batter's box first? Left... Or right? Together wouldn't hurt. And so he stepped in, glanced at the runners on 2nd and 3rd. Situation running through his head. Bottom 9th, 2 down. Score was 4-3 in the opposition's favour. Pitcher was formidable, and today was one of his good days. Being a bench warmer all the time, he was pinch hitting for the catcher, who was 0-3 today. He was thinking too much.

Change-up came floating in.
He took.

What would come next?
The vicious slider, fastball, or... Another change-up? He stepped out, took a deep breathe in. He knew there was no hurry. Like they all say, 'Fr'kn foul'n don't do no harm.' Left leg in first now.

Another change-up.
Cut it.

Now, that shook him a little. Perhaps the pitcher was just underestimating him. A stare wouldn't hurt now, would it? Pitcher took the signal. That stupid nod again. Well, it was going to be a change-up.

There it came, floating in.
A bit inside. Got out of the way.

1 and 2. So what if the pitcher was up? He wanted to crush it if it was another bloody change-up, he knew he would. Same old nod, same old wind up.

Fourth change-up in the row.
Inside again. This time it shaved his belt.
Somebody in the crowd shouted, 'Pitch a fr'kn fastball, pitcher!'

Smirked. He knew another change-up was coming. This pitcher was trying to run it to a full count, and irritate him at the same time. Only a single, only a single, only a single, only a single, only needed a single.

He knew it. Change-up, again.
The moment it left the pitcher's hand, he turned away in disgust.
Dead red, a sitter right in the middle of the plate.

He swung.

Staring at his desktop wallpaper with an error message, he crushed the mouse on the table.
'What the hell is wrong with this computer? The winning run was on 2, damn!'

**

Oh well.

The Board of Film Censors (BFC) has rated the film 'The Da Vinci Code' NC16.

The film has a "mature content" advice and no children below the age of 16 will be able to watch it at the cinemas in Singapore.

BFC says that, in deciding on the rating, it sought the views of the Film Consultative Panel which comprises a cross section of society, representing different professions, age groups, races and religions.

The majority of members came to the conclusion that the film should be viewed as a thriller and a piece of fiction.

Members agreed that the film can be shown, but at a higher rating as only a mature audience will be able to discern and differentiate between fact and fiction.


Source: CNA

I wish they were lying.
Damn.

**

On another note, I'm fine now. I think it was a slight infection that got me going. Puked quite a few times on Sunday night and Monday morning. Well, sailing smoothly again.

Thanks for the concern and help when needed.

**

Newcastle's going to Europe, bastards.

Now there's this weird feeling creeping into my heart, slowly taking over, taking me step by step through this elimination process, cleansing and deleting the concept of training...

And installing the new 'add-on' called Remedial Version 3.47, new and improved.

**

I love Catholic High Softball.
Today was a memorable experience; at least we made full use of the diamond.

Our time is finally up.
Sooner or later, it'll be time to say goodbye.

I know almost all of you will choose the latter.
I know because I would have chosen it as well, 4 years ago.

**

I do blame myself.
Gave 3 free passes in the first inning, and then the solo home run to their 4th batter in the 5th inning.

2 runs were all they needed.
3 runs were what we needed.

We only got 1. The final score reads Peicai 2 - 1 Catholic High.

The 'If Only...' starts overwhelming me/us, but after all the crying and reflection, there's nothing to regret. We played our best, and we showed them what we have. We built discipline and character, for a championship does not serve to make you a better person, discipline and character does.

Discipline and character does.

**

It hurts to lose, but I know we wouldn't be happy winning a bad game either.
It may appear to be that we're running away from reality, but you don't know how we feel.

**

1 more game left.
All the hard work these four years all come down to this. It's fine even if we get 4th, but at least 3rd would taste that bit sweeter. Then we can at least end this with a win.

Well, the ball is still round.

**

Oh yes, wonderful pitching Bises. He was flirting with a Perfecto, 9 up 9 down through 3 innings. Jee Boon, Peicai's 4th batter, crushed a Catalyst. I have no idea how you break a metal bat into two, but he did. During the 5th inning, he was the one who drove my pitch all the way past the centre field fence.

Good game people, and all the best to you in the finals.
Same goes for ACS(i).
I foresee a thrilling match.

**

I love Catholic High Softball.
All my beloved team-mates, Mr. Goh, Coach Alex, all who've helped in one way or another, and all our friends and parents who have supported us.

Thank you.

Learn more about me!
I'm too opinionated and idealistic to be your friendly neighbourhood superhero.

Credits.
Rusroulette/Adele

Shoot me.
new_u_fan@hotmail.com