When we first stepped into our respective secondary schools tentatively four years ago, we were vaguely aware that our eventual aim was to graduate with flying colours from the school. We had this sketchy image of ourselves holding up that 'O' Level Certificate with utmost pride. But first it was time to take part in the Co-Curricular activity (CCA) that one was interested. Time seemed to slip past our fingers just like how water seeped through sand. We were practically engulfed by the passage of time. By the time we realised the hands on the clock had concluded its job for the year, we were back in action, as secondary two students.

With that minute sense of power bestowed upon us, we were able to address juniors with an air of superiority. That new-found authority was refreshing as some of us finally realised that we were here to study. Afterall, there was streaming at the end of the year. Those who demanded triple science as their combination worked diligently for their 75% average and distinctions for their sciences. Meanwhile, everybody else continued to flourish in their CCAs, beginning to build permanent bonds between one another. Time was relentless in its journey - it never seemed to give us any respite. With our streaming results in hand, some screamed in agony, some beamed with joy, some sighed in resignation and some just remained expressionless.

Stepping into upper secondary, we were well aware that leadership roles were going to be handed down. Was it time to devote most of our energy into our CCAs? Was it safer to just 'hit the books' perpetually? Answers to such questions varied from individual to individual, but one had to be prepared for the consequences of his actions. Some of us began to feel the heat. Time management was the decisive factor between success and failure. Doom seemed to befall the fun-seekers and the lazy ones. Others were bound for success. Having zoomed past us for the past two years, Time was starting to toy with us. It could move at agonizingly pathetic speeds, but out of the blue, it could just accelerate, leaving us in a mess. Continually bombarded with heaps after heaps of work, we watched helplessly as some were left behind. Whose fault was it? It didn't matter - we had to move on.

The power which we cherished so much would have to be handed down on a silver platter. 'Fun' was non-existent in our vocabularies, and everybody seemed to have a purpose, a driving force which gave them the continual thrust to work non-stop. Save for some individuals, all of us were gearing up for the biggest battle of our lives so far - that seemingly insignificant thought made in secondary one surfaced in our minds. Putting in every ounce of enery they could muster, our teachers - the true heroes - continued imparting all their knowledge to us. All of this had to be applied appropriately. Time eventually relented and gave us a chance to get back on our feet. For those who didn't pounce on this glorious opportunity, everything was lost. Eventually, victors emerged. Losers stood out like a sore thumb.

**

Time always has the last laugh. It can create illusions and false impressions with a snap of its fingers. It controls us - we cannot govern time because it governs us. However, we have the power to use time wisely. Then, we will realise that Time is not our foe, but our ally.

A great brick wall loomed over him. It seemed to signal the end of the road for him. No, there were no pursuers screaming for his head, and he wasn't in a hurry to save his own skin. In fact, throughout this torturous journey, he had been optimistic, way too positive for his own good. But that was the only way he could muster the strength to continue plodding on, to work towards the eventual goal. Now this monstrous obstacle stood in his way, threatening to negate all the effort he had put in. Tears streamed down his face. He was neither sad nor angry. He was just plain disappointed. Jack had been dubbed a 'brainless fool', labeled an 'idiot' and called several nasty names. Everybody thought he was doomed to fail. He had no supporters save for himself and his imaginary friend. Everything went smoothly, albeit too smoothly. Now he knew he had nowhere to go but turn back and face the taunts from others. They would pierce his skin and puncture his heart, and he had to brace himself for the impact up ahead. He stopped sobbing. Jack knew it was impossible to scale this wall. Hope had evaporated into thin air, and Jack hung his head dejectedly and walked away, an air of despondency replacing the hope that was once in abundance...

**

Have you ever felt like this? Alone, with nobody to rely on, striving towards your dream but always full of hope? Have you ever gone with high expectations only to be disappointed by a seemingly minor obstacle which eventually cuts short your journey and kills your hopes? Have you ever wished to achieve something so desperately but fail at the last moment? Have you ever thought you were going to succeed but eventually realised how naive you were? Have you been full of confidence initially, only to be thwarted by a small miscalculation? Have you ever gave your heart to someone but have it thrown back to you? Have you ever been foolish enough to love blindly?

I know you haven't, and I don't care.

The last time I checked, which was a few minutes ago, that blog was down. Yesterday, I was just wondering why the URL of the blog was circulating around. I thought it was old news. Afterall, it had been set up a few months ago. Perhaps it was brought up alongside the petition or perhaps it had gained too much negative publicity.

Initially, it struck me that the was written in an inappropriate manner. The use of words such as 'Majestic Palace' gave me the creeps. Actually, it still gives me the creeps today. Furthermore, the author of the blog remained anonymous, and that only meant one thing - he was a coward. Lastly, he also liked to vent his anger on Benjamin Neo, the Head Prefect, for reasons unknown. Irregardless of whether Benjamin was an unpleasant individual, it must have taken a totally immature or evil person to Photoshop his picture onto a tombstone. Quite unbelievable that somebody would do this, but he did it nonetheless.

However, when I first read the blog, it struck me that some of the matters described had that tiny inkling of truth. The problem was that truth did not stand out when put alongside gibberish and nonsense. Afterall, it's impossible to please everybody, and I think it was not wrong for the author of the blog to try to express his displeasure. But why in such a malicious manner? Why employ such an immature and uncivilized tone when you could have went straight to the authorities or bring it up in a more subtle and graceful manner? What comes to mind is the picture of a small boy stepping on a hapless ant repeatedly - a malicious act committed in a mischievous manner. Whether he was aware of the consequences, we will never know.

Obviously, he used the blog as a platform to air the school's dirty laundry in public. Once again, it might have been done on the basis of exasperation or impulse. However, never eliminate the possibility that the author of the blog could be a sly and scheming person plotting the downfall of Catholic High. Perhaps he thought he was safe by putting up a disclaimer assuring that everything in the blog was fictional. I am not familiar with law, but once he put up pictures that corresponded with those which exist in the school, it obviously negated the use of the 'disclaimer'. Perhaps he thought that his ingenuity would only spread within the school. What an ignorant fool he was. A blog is a public domain which everybody can access. Or maybe, like I mentioned, he was trying to tarnish the reputation of the school.

He thought he was great, the prank was going to give everybody a little laugh, and that he could get away scot-free. Perhaps he is going to get away without any punishment, but can he live with it? If you're reading this, you better be aware of the damage you've caused. The school's reputation was at stake because of your irresponsible actions, and if you wish to remain in the shadows, do so. But touch your heart. Do you hear your conscience crying out for redemption? Do you feel the walls closing in on you? Do you want to live with this for the rest of your life? Even if you can forgive yourself, do you think you can look back and laugh this off? I think you had better apologize.

Oh no. I forgot you're a coward.

And by the way, if you think you've successfully 'converted' us into supporting your cause, you're wrong. Frankly, I feel you've given us a chance to take a peek into the brains of demented and warped individuals like yourself who take advantage of the Internet and discredit others. You've also made us realise that the school actually means something to us. Unlike you, Catholic High has a place in our hearts.

**

Like I mentioned, through this incident, I sense that more people are expressing their love for the school. It is a heartwarming sight. Some things in Catholic High I never liked, (i.e. the fabled green shorts, certain administration matters etc.) but I still can't deny the fact that I love the school. When I first stepped in it seemed impossible to 'love a school', but now I beg to differ. Three odd years here and I've learned countless lessons, be it in the classroom or with my CCA. Three odd years here and I've made plenty of friends. Three odd years and it seems immensely difficult to step out in five months. Ultimately, Catholic High has moulded me into a better person. I'll never forget the time I had here, and I don't want the school's name to be harmed.

It has never been a case of 'I-just-need-to-get-past-four-unbearable-years' in Catholic High. If I were given the chance to choose, I would confidently say I would pick the Metal Buttons, Softball, great friends like Edmund Teo and the priceless experience in Catholic High again. I sing the school song with pride, because I've worn the school colours on my chest before, and I will forever sing it with pride.

I love Catholic High.

Trust me, it won't be long till I achieve Gattuso like greatness!
Haha.

Heaven's not a place that you go when you die
It's that moment in life when you actually feel alive
So live for the moment
And take this advice, live by every word
Love is just a hoax so forget everything that you have heard.

**

I like this song, especially those few lines. I know it might not stand for what all you people out there believe in, but it sure makes sense to me. Anyway I've been wondering why I'm so opinionated. Frankly, sometimes I like having an opinion. Afterall, sitting on the fence brings across a sense of fickleness and indecisiveness so uncharacteristic of great people. By great people, I mean those who are morally upright and have achieved great things. Sure, I may not become one of them, but at least it gives me a brief feeling of nobility.

On the other hand, many have told me to stop being such a 'jackass/bitch/loser' and respect the opinion of others. You must understand that I try very hard everytime, but the result is always failure. I take the 'advice' in good light and try to change for the better, but like I said, my efforts are always futile.

**

Well my neighbour asked about it and I just briefly mentioned everything. It's quite funny actually, I don't feel anything - I was just narrating from a third person view. I know you don't really bother anymore, and I will never blame you for that. Even though I may have defeated some inner demons, some will never be subdued.

Nevertheless, thank you for your time, everytime.

Life always has little surprises in store for us. When one is caught unalert, he often stumbles ungracefully because he isn't adequately prepared. Many of you guys know I applied for Direct School Admission (DSA). Most of you also echoed my personal view that it wouldn't be too difficult for me to be successful in my application.

Hey, we were all proven wrong!

The places went to Yao Xian and Josiah, my two beloved team-mates. We were expecting three places, but when I didn't receive any phonecall, the alarm bells started ringing. Initially, confidence was coursing through my veins - I didn't go there to put in a limp effort. Now the results are out, my application has officially been rejected. To say I am disappointed would be an understatement.

Then again, like my parents and Mr. Heng and concerned individuals put it, 'It's another chance to re-think the path that you want to take. Afterall, you won't be bonded solely to the CCA now. Perhaps there are other areas of interest you would like to venture into. It's your decision...'

I would like to thank everybody who has given me words of encouragement, wise insights and opinions which I value greatly.

I would also like to thank Mr. Goh for his immense help throughout this whole process of the application, and everything he has assisted me and the team in.

**

Perhaps it just wasn't meant to be.

Imagine Me & You.

Well, the World Cup HAS come to a close, and the curtains were drawn in a very ugly and disgraceful manner. Zinedine Zidane chose to end his illustrious career by headbutting Marco Materazzi in the chest. Of course it was asinine behaviour. Reckless, definitely deserving of a red card. However, how many of you know that Zidane is of Algerian descent? I'm certainly not defending him, he was practically asking for the red card to be thrust in his face anyway. Then again, put yourself in his shoes - how would you react if somebody made derogatory remarks about your skin colour? Add the stress of being the France captain and the fatigue.

It doesn't seem like such a reckless thing to do now, does it?

You see, sometimes life works this way. We always try to empathise, but sometimes the magnitude of the situation doesn't hit us. Yes, Zidane forsaken his team, shirked his responsibility as a captain, but did he think it was worth it? Perhaps he did. Perhaps he thought his actions could be justified. Actually, the words exchanged between the two players, only they themselves would know - but having thought over it time and time again, alternate theories are being formulated.

Afterall, I must say the Italians are pretty melodramatic. Perhaps 'pretty' is an understatement. They have always been melodramatic - the same goes for the Portuguese, Argentineans and Spanish. The French are no saints either. If you think about it, both teams got here through some dubious decisions in their favour. There was blatant diving throughout the whole match, damaging the reputation of soccer. Apparently this sort of action taken by such countries are not only a part of 'gamemanship', a term used to describe discreet cheating, but in fact reflects their culture. I don't know whether this is regarded as an insult, but perhaps the over-emphasis on theatrics has spilled over onto the soccer field and accentuated their acting skills. Teams like Germany barely resort to such underhanded means - perhaps they are still best at what they are renowned for - their frightening, almost inhumane efficiency.

The majority of the game was played at a relatively quick pace, and both the defenses were rock solid. Take nothing away from the French, their rear guard performed their duty impressively, perhaps just lacking in the department of height. The Italians had a few incisive passes, occasionally slicing through the French defense, but the French actually attacked more and spent the best part of the second half in the Italian half. What is commendable about the Italians - after having gone down for the first time in this World Cup, they still managed to bounce back. They had a calm and collected leader in Fabian Cannavaro. They had a manager who wasn't afraid to throw on more attacking minded players. However, in my opinion, the edge which the Italian possessed was the ability to nullify any potential French attacks. Organization wasn't the key factor here - the crucial fact was that they managed to get the French players off the ball at the correct areas.

Well, there are many parallels to draw here. France, the underdogs, taking the lead first. The Italians, the favourites, retaliated relentlessly. It was a dogged battle, a survival of the fittest, a tribute to a group of dedicated athletes. I believe both teams wanted to win, but when France's hunger waned, the Italians' stomachs growled louder, and they eventually gobbled their prize - the World Cup.

It was sad Zinedine Zidane had to end it this way. It was disappointing for a lifelong soccer fan like myself to see the beautiful game tainted. But, nothing is certain on the field, and that's the beauty of it all. The Italians have won the World Cup, but whether they can face up to their conscience is another matter. Indeed, they did have the drive and passion, but ultimately, did it cloud their judgment? Did that take 'gamemanship' to another level? I wish it didn't, but sometimes we're just too powerless to change things, like how the French supporters were powerless from stopping the Italians from breaking their hearts.

Amidst their domestic problems, the Italians have triumphed. Although I have doubted their integrity, I must say, to lift the World Cup when you might be playing in Serie 'C' next year is an amazing feat. For their undying spirit, I salute them. For their great ability to focus and channel all their energy onto their priority and forget their troubles, I salute them.

However, like I've said, I hope the beautiful game remains beautiful.

When you decide to sleep at half-time of a game because the score is 0-0 and you're tired, the last thing you want to know is that the final score is 3-1 and you missed 4 goals in the second half. And it had to happen this way.

Well, it's all ok. Just that today is your typical gloomy day, and you, having risen at 1 in the afternoon, seem to be living in a timeless arena. The rain just refuses to stop falling, the sky is grey, thus you are unable to discern between 2pm and 7pm. Everything, like it has been mentioned, seems to be at a standstill. The bed seems to be your only refuge, and it takes all your willpower to channel your energy onto something more productive... Like doing some work.

Well, I really wish that time would standstill, at least for a Sunday like this, where you spent the majority of time lazing around. At least I did some work - no guilt tugging relentlessly at me, trying to drive me out of my mind.

**

The World Cup is coming to a close tonight, or if you love to be technically accurate, the next morning. It has been a disappointment, not because the team I support has not come out on top, but because of a few other reasons.

Firstly, I didn't support any team, unless you count buying that Mexico wristband 'supporting'. I did blatantly express my dislike for teams like England, (no less led by a bunch of fools) and I will shamelessly proclaim that I do indeed, like millions of others, hate Cristiano Ronaldo.

Secondly, the World Cup has been riddled by a ridiculous amount of cards, so much so that it took Graham Poll 3 yellow cards to send a player off. In fact, I sympathise with the referees, because they're paid so much less than the players to run around the field. Furthermore, it's not the referees who come up with the rules, it's FIFA who throw them all the shit to do, and it's the players who resort to diving and unnecessary hustling to make life difficult for the referees. If referees continue to flash cards at this rate, there'll be at least one sending off in every EPL (English Premier League) match. And we might as well start playing 12 against 12. People who think soccer is stupid will now say, 'Look! 24 people chasing after one damned ball!'

Lastly, I guess this World Cup has been made less enjoyable because people, especially teenage girls, start chattering about which player looks better. I think it's a progression from the last World Cup where all the girls were going ga-ga over the Koreans and the Japanese. Of course, with their dismal performances support began to waver. Everybody had their eyes on a dirty player - Cristiano Ronaldo, which really does make my insides churn. My only wish is for girls to stop looking and start screaming of their hate for the World Cup. Thereafter, I would not have to repeat time and time again, 'Torres looks and plays better than Cristiano, DAMN IT!'

**

You know, sometimes computer games do provide nice classic moments.



7,77!

Today's my Mum's birthday! Born on Independence Day. What a coincidence. Oh well. Sometimes when you really run out of nice things to say about a person, she's either really too nice or there's really nothing more to say. I'd say the case is the former. Afterall, she is the best Mum ever. Hopefully she enjoyed today's dinner. Luckily I wished her a Happy Birthday, unlike my brother, who had a sheepish grin pasted across his face when he realised he clean forgot.

**

I'm 16 already, and it's quite obvious that a teenager at this age often goes through a myriad of changes. One damned thing about the constant transitions we (or myself) have to go through is the ceaseless search for an identity. Occasionally the 'warped values' pop up. Occasionally we stray off the path, misled by our misconceptions. Even now, when we look at the not-too-distant past, we see ourselves as a shadow of what we once were - vaguely familiar, trailing behind, yet lacking that substance, that human quality. Having detached itself, its path might converge with ours. The splitting image might send shivers down our spines, but the reassurance that that entity was only a remnant of a past helps soothes our apprehensive minds.

Eventually it dawns upon you: along this rapid progression of life, it is imperative that some traits evolve, some dissolve and some dissipate into thin air. Your shadow is who you once knew. So who was the 'person' whom you once were? It's hard to say you know. Perhaps he still lingers deep in your heart and/or soul, because he refuses to detach itself from you. You never know.

Life is complicated, but it should be lived simply. It's a paradox, an oxymoron, whatever you want to call it. Think too much, and eventually you get caught up in your own world. On the other hand, if you refuse to let your brain juices flow, you end up turning into an ignorant fool. Basically, to live life simply is a challenge. (See? Paradox.) Well, I guess any Tom, Dick or Harry can tell you one needs money to survive. However, if your life revolves around money, then what is the purpose of living? Such questions always seem to be rhetorical and redundant, but they are the ones which people, rich or poor, spend a lifetime pondering over.

**

Y'know, just grab a nice novel to keep you occupied first.

Does it ring a bell?
It does to me.

Because when things turn terribly ugly, it's either the devil or the deep blue sea. And sometimes, you end up embracing both.

Like smoking AND drinking.

I have sunk into the abyss and have been fiddling with my mind for the past week. No, more like flexing my brain muscles for the 2nd Prelim, the much anticipated Preliminary Examination on the first week of school. Enter a Catholic High student's life.

**

World Cup - 3 quarter finals over, 1 quarter final left.
Italy, Germany and Portugal are through. Now it's either Brazil or France.

England deserve to be out. Good riddance to Eriksson, that piece of shit. Good riddance to Beckham, who can only kick fucking stationary balls. Good riddance to the England with a ton of good players but peas for brains at the helm. However, the future doesn't seem bright too. McClaren is probably just an Eriksson clone. Too bad for England fans then.

I think Germany are going to go all the way. I think France might stand a chance again Brazil. I think Portugal stunk against England too. Both countries' penalty-taking skills are horrendous. Portugal couldn't penetrate a pathetic England defense, Rooney was stupid enough to push the melodramatic Cristiano Ronaldo. (I still hate his guts.) This game, I must say, was a typical boring England game.

Now you know why I like to lash out at England - they look like a bunch of unorganized second grade players with a manager who thinks with his ass, a bunch of deluded fools who think they can win the World Cup. Welcome back to reality.

I could go on for days about Eriksson. Doing things like constantly substituting out Joe Cole (for two games at least) when he was easily the best player on the field. You really don't want me to continue screaming at this retard. He's so two-dimensional and boring. He doesn't deserve the 4.5 million Pounds a year.

**

Enough about soccer.

Sometimes, we tend to disregard the matters that we cannot solve, especially if they are just minute little off-hand problems which reveal their identities occasionally. They either turn out to be plain irritating or just a hard nut to crack. It's a vicious cycle - you put in the effort to find feasible solutions, but they don't work, so you take your mind off the matter temporarily. It comes back to haunt you when you least expected. It distracts you, pre-occupying you with insignificant details. Once derailed, you have to climb back to your feet again, and you vow never to be caught off guard again.
But you can never be sure.

**

What, you think I'm just going to change the memory stick in my brain? I wish I could, so if you find a disposable memory storage device compatible with the human mind, please contact me. I think that is of utmost importance, for some things just cling to the edges of our mind, with no intent of letting up and retracting their long claws. Man, don't you just hate that?

**

Really nice that I'm writing again. I haven't had the time or the sincerity to put much thought into my previous few entries. Three cups of coffee during dinner sure works magic.

Take care people.
See you around.

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