Everytime.

I’m afraid I’m starting to feel
What I said I would not do
The last time really hurt me

I’m scared to fall in love
Afraid to love so fast
‘Cause everytime I fall in love
It seems to never last
But every time your love is near
And every time I’m filled with fear
‘Cause everytime I see your face
My heart does begin to race every time

One half want me to go
Other half wants me to stay
I just get so all confused

I’m scared to fall in love
Afraid to love so fast
‘Cause every time I fall in love
It seems to never last

But every time your love is near
And every time I’m filled with fear
‘Cause every time
My heart does begin to race every time

I’m scared to fall in love
Afraid to love so fast

‘Cause every time I fall in love
It seems to never last

Every time your love is near
And every time I’m filled with fear

‘Cause every time I see your face
My heart does begin to race every time

Every time your love is near
And every time I’m filled with fear

‘Cause every time I see your face
Could it be that this will be the one that lasts

The fear does start to erase every time
Oh could it be that this will be the one that lasts

For all my times

Information.

ERAP: Hello, I would like to inquire how long is the flight from Manila to San Francisco?

OPERATOR: Just a minute, sir.

ERAP: Ok, thank you. (click)

O Level Results.

It’s over.

We never know, believe me, when we have succeeded best. ~Miguel de Unamuno, Essays and Soliloquies, 1925

Last night’s dream.

It was a peaceful night. The tree outside the window swayed with the autumn wind; the peculiar side to side movement of the branches looked like a friendly gesture of bidding farewell. I just finished taking a night shower, and was changing to my pajamas. The next thing I knew was that I heard a loud thud coming from the basement, thunderous thuds which shook the whole house.

“Is anyone there?”
I turn on the lights.

“Is anyone there?”

I started walking towards the end of the staircase leading to the basement.

“Answer me.”

A propulsion of green flames emanating from his mouth overwhelmed the pitch-black darkness of the basement, moving very rapidly in a circular manner, surrounding him. Countless objects were swept by the strong gust of flames. The whole basement was burning bright green. It was about to collapse. At one end of the room he begins to lose mobility, although it seemed to me that he was floating in midair, crying, wailing, struggling. The rays of light burned his nightwear, his hair, leaving him naked and helpless. I was horrified. As I gathered all my strength to come even closer, I notice that the man at that far corner of the room is me.

Art.

One thing that fascinates me is the ability of the human mind to imagine, to animate, and the capability of the human hands to contour the pen’s directions in many ways and apply varying degrees of pressure so as to produce lifelike images.

I am a frustrated artist, like many people out there. I won’t consider myself as someone who can draw fabulously, but I believe that with my unfurnished skills I would have been able to qualify to take art as a subject, with the Creative Art Programme being the most probable opportunity to begin progressing and improving in a career which hardly guarantees a good future, and more importantly, a good pay.

***

The guy stared at me with a kind of a beguiling stare that makes you feel your sphincter bladder is losing strength. Shit, I can’t pee here, hold on please.

“Dude, I heard you wanted to take art.”
“Well, I’m considering… but I’m not good in art. I don’t think I can do well.”
“Do you really want to take art? It’s kinda tough, ya know.”

A wave of valuable information I heard earlier washed away my plans of saying yes.

“I don’t know.”
“You should have decided about that a long time ago.”
“And the school gave me a triple science combination. I’m in 336.”
“Oh. I thought you are in 334?”
“I thought so too.”
“Lex and your Filipino seniors are in 434.”
“I know that.”
“Hahaha, all classes are the same.”
“Really. I see the room numbers and they already look so different to me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you should have decided about taking art a long time ago.”

I remembered what heard earlier that morning.

“As far as I could remember I was in primary 2 when I first thought about taking art. But I think I’ll be taking biology.”
“Hahaha. You’re lame dude. Very well. Oh, I have to go see my teacher. See you in school.”
“Bye.”

I heard that my school’s distinction rate for Art in O Levels is always 100%.

So I decided not to take the subject.

***

And I realized today, what the hell does drawing shit have anything to do with my results.
Nothing will change the printed ink on my certificate.

So what.

“So what made you become a deejay?” she said curiously.

“Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t very good at work. Scraped through A levels. I spent more time listening to radio than studying.”

“So who did you like?”

“The Beatles, of course. Jefferson Starship. Marc Bolan. David Bowie-but that was much later-”

“Hey, I liked him too.” She raised her eyebrows expressively. “I think he’s cool. Besides,” she added thoughtfully, “you’re not stupid.”

“Why-thank you-” but she had to wait, as the record playing had come to an end. He spoke deejay patter into the mike and spun his next record.

“-about my not being stupid,” he said encouragingly , grinning.

“Well,” she said. “What’s a crummy mark anyway?” It just shows how you did well in a test at a certain date at some point in your life. But no one here buys that. The other Asians in my school in LA, they were all crammers too. Some crazy tomfool idea of success. It’s their parents’ fault. Look, maybe you and I can’t study. So what? It’s just one facet of learning. I don’t see why a guy who can memorize facts is necessarily smarter than a guy who can surf really well. It’s just-” she frowned- “different centres of the brain being sharper than the rest.”

an excerpt from “Lee” by Claire Tham, first published in 1990

Big difference.

A A A A A A A

Seven As. Seven subjects.
So what about straight As.
Didn’t get six points anyway.
Who cares about how many As you get.
Who does?

They only care about the “1” beside the A.

I should have gotten worse; that would be easier for me to accept.
Getting some A2s is just too painful.
I’d rather have them give me a B.

Time machine.

Perhaps the SJI International physics laboratory is a distorted version of a time machine. Distorted, because the human mind has already been influenced by the media in regards to how a time machine should look like if ever it has existed. In the case of Doraemon’s time machine we may argue that the time machine itself is the biggest joke known to mankind.

Earlier this morning, as I transcended through the scalar quantity that we call time, my thoughts began to whirl around in a concentric manner, at a certain vantage point inside my memories where as far as I can remember I was sitting down in a similar place with a bunsen burner in front, two or three faucets, a dirty towel, and an uncomfortable stool. Practical. Yes, it was the physics practical. I was fumbling, my hands were sweating, my heart galloping, chasing time, it seemed that time was too fast, or maybe I was just too slow? I did not know. All I could remember was drawing this stupid idiotic graph that was totally horrendous and indecent-looking. It looked like a longitudinal section of half of a bra cup with a decapitated tip, leaving a straight horizontal line on top which connected the remaining two crosses I have plotted on the graph paper. Up to you to imagine how it looked like. Oh yeah, I also remembered that I did not bother to answer the paper’s last question. Who did anyway. Shame on you if you did.

And yes, it seemed like time has rewound itself a couple of months and days for me to reminisce the deliveration of the two years of hardships and sufferings under the indirect powerful reign of the O Level markers.

Yes, master, we will answer the questions in accordance to your instructions.

And soon I came back to my present world. What a relief. I hear Mr. Saranam in front talking about deriving formulas to find velocity, acceleration, speed, time, distance traveled, etcetera. It was actually easy. I was looking at this graph he drew on the board, and as he was painstakingly drawing the line showing the deceleration of an object, without any relevant connection whatsoever I realized that I will be getting my GCE O Level Certificate this coming Thursday.

Hope my grades won’t decelerate.

Heroes.

It is a rare opportunity to meet people with amazing and unbelievable superpowers.

Anyway, I would like to thank Auntie Jo and Annabelle for the barbecue party. It was awesome!

**************

More bbq party photos.

Niko and I.

Mr. Lightning and Mr. Tornado.

Superhuman Hypnotizer and two normal earthlings.

Water Goddess and Hypnotizer.

Free.

Texas Instrument Graphic Calculator TI-84 Plus.

An International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme requirement for Mathematics and Sciences.

An exorbitantly expensive gadget for school use.

In the outside world, it’s no use.

I just got it for free today.

Being yourself.

That is why it is so important to let certain things go.
To release them.
To cut loose.

People need to understand that no one is playing with marked cards;
sometimes we win and sometimes we lose.

Don’t expect to get anything back,
don’t expect recognition for your efforts,
don’t expect your genius to be discovered
or your love to be understood.

Complete the circle.
Not out of pride,
inability or arrogance,
but simply because whatever it is
no longer fits your life.

Close the door,

change the record,

clean the house,

get rid of the dust.

Stop being who you were
and become who you are.

~The Zahir, Paulo Coelho

Love angst.

She waves her hand. Suddenly you feel the whole world shaking, as if there is an earthquake, and your body feels so heavy you can’t move. You can barely move, to be more precise. Shit, this ceiling above me is going to bury me alive. You try to smile, but your mouth seems to be superimposed with scotch tape. A thick one. And a cheap one. She says hi. Upon hearing that hi you immediately feel a tingling sensation inside you. You don’t really know what it is. Excited? Afraid? Nervous? Aroused?

She walks towards your direction. In a catwalk fashion. She becomes more visible as she approaches you. Darn, don’t come near me. You see those long, slender legs. Gosh, if you are only mine. If you are only mine. You feel like grabbing her to feel her heartbeat next to yours. To smell her fragrant, shiny, silky black her. To see her eye to eye. To touch her lips. To feel her hips with your gentle fingertips. And to say, can you be my girl?

She comes. She’s so near to you. You are almost fainting. You’re drenching in sweat. Damn, not in a time like this, you exclaim to yourself. You start to open your arms, ready to welcome her to your heart, the love of your life, the apple of your eye, when all of a sudden she passes by your side, glances at you for a while, walks a few more steps behind, then squeaks like a trampled mouse, and finally runs like a bimbotic ostrich as her beefcake ostrich boyfriend appears over the horizon.

*********

I always wonder why people easily give in to such satirical remarks about them being like by someone of the opposite sex.

“Um… really?”

“Yeah!! And she’s like head over heels!”

“Well… how’d you know about this?” *blushes*

“Somebody told somebody who told somebody, and that somebody told me like five minutes ago? Jeez man u look like tomato, stop blushing!” *snickers*

“I’m not blushing!”

“Yes you are. Admit it man, you like her too!”

“Well… um.. Why do you think she likes me?”

“Who knows? I couldn’t believe it myself! It seems she’s gone mad after she failed her physics test.”

“Thanks a lot, dude.”

Bonjour.

I see myself in this awkward situation of having to explain everything to my friends about my current life here in Singapore. It’s a tremendous task of saying the same things over and over, like a teacher telling tales of Physics to a new cohort of lazy students every year, and it has made me feel exhausted to hear the same responses emanating from a multitude of inquiring mouths.

Wow.
Shit man.
F**k!
Chey.
Walao so good!
I’m so jealous of you!!
Damn!

And it makes me feel guilty to be living in a state of “luxury”, as what many of them say, although we jolly well know that me and my friends here are deprived of some friendly company and tolerable noise in this residence situated far from the hustle and bustle of downtown Singapore. Nevertheless, I am grateful to be here, and with the comfy bed and pillow alone I am wonderfully satisfied with my new home. Thanks be to God.

************

And, I am starting to loooove French.

Bonjour, je m’appelle Rowland.
Et toi, comment t’appelles-tu?

A beautiful language indeed. Oh how I long for the day that I could finally and beautifully swear in French.

************

The IB Diploma Programme rocks, by the way. So far.
I loooove it too. As for now.

************

Au revoir.

I feel afraid whenever I see you.

Inferiority complex.

This effing inferiority complex is driving me crazy.

Why should I feel this way?

What is wrong with me?

Effing inferiority complex.

And effing personality.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

I don’t understand myself.

Online gropers.

Ok.

Whew.

Somebody just sent me a message in friendster that goes like this:

ask ko long ko ha..
bisexual u??
hilig u guro sa sex trip ano??
want to be your friend lng naman ano man??
ok lng bah??

- now that’s what I call a nightmare. Much more terrifying than Sadako.

We log in to online sites to meet friends. We join online sites so that we can keep in touch with our distant friends. We create accounts in friendster, facebook, multiply, etcetera, in order to meet new people whom we can develop wholesome friendships with. Well that’s the moral idea of joining them. But it is really a horrendous fact that online sites are now hot spots for sexually-driven, maniacal, and horny gay predatory bastards who prey on penises and testicles to satisfy their sexual appetites. This is not only the first time I have encountered such online gropers; it seems that there are a lot of them lurking around the vast ocean we call cyberspace.

Oh sheet. Not a gay Sadako please.

Furthermore, there are also female ones, and normally (yes, normally) they would say things like

“hey, it just happened that i stumbled to your site, and I actually found you quite interesting.”

or like

“Hey, what’s up? Wanna chat?”

then they would give a link to some site, and once you click on the link…

pooof..

You know what i mean..

*******

(Where’s the decency in this world?!)

No masquerades.

Social night was fun.

I had fun. It was blast! Although the first few parts of the event made me feel as if I’m attending a funeral. But overall, it was fantastic.

And it made me realize that my previous blog entry is actually bullshit.

And I’m happy about it.

Beautiful Liar.

First day funk.

It seems to me that I always have this some sort of difficulty mingling with new people for the first time. Whatever the occasion is, wherever the place might be, a school, an international school, an IB school, an expensive school, a new school, a Lasallian school, it is truly a challenge for me to take the risk of saying ‘hi’ or ‘hello’ to someone and end up being beautifully rejected for the shallow reason that I look like a regurgitated piece of expired satay to him or her.

Of course, no one thought of me that way for this week. I guess. I still possess that obvious tinge of shyness emblazoned right smack on the face, a very prominent indication of the presence of anti-social-ness and introversion. I am not. I am loud. noisy. very noisy. extremely noisy. I can’t just stay put and shut up forever. I always love to go around messing around with other people. Even more wonderful if they’re of my age. Most wonderful if they’re already very old. I just love taking part in destructive and constructive arguments. Oh, how beautiful the art of fighting is. I love to play. Not basketball, not soccer, of course. But it takes time. A long time.

Actually, I wasn’t even able to show how overtly extroverted I really am when I studied at SJI. I lived for two years wondering whether people would appreciate me if I would show myself as such, in a boys’ school to make matters worse, and so with that confounding notion I had to resort to being quiet and reserved, a big lie I was indeed, and in a way, an un-horny guy which was so unlike the rest of SJI boys. And maybe because of that I received my honorary prefect tie, a very boastful tie to be honest, a tie which separates the school into different castes, a tie which, in a way, helped me to get my A1 for CCA. Thank you for that.

I still don’t know if I should be myself this time. Should I be quiet? Should I be introverted? Should I be noisy? Should I act as if I am smart? Or should I act dumb? Or should I just be physically present there, but socially absent? Or should I ecstatically mingle with other people the way I usually mingle with my close friends? A lot of quotations, sayings and proverbs are filled with flowery, verbose words of encouragement to ‘be yourself’. Ha. As if they do the same thing. We’re all beautiful liars. Shakira and Beyonce can prove that to you with matching belly tidal waves.

Enlightenment.

You know what, I discovered something interesting a few minutes ago.

Mabaho rin pala ang tae ng mga mayayaman.

The CBD.

Singapore’s Central Business District.

Photo taken on New Year’s Eve.

Sunset.

A wonderful plethora of glass, concrete, iron, steel, wood, and plastic. All molded into ever-towering skyscrapers and towers.

Don’t worry, GenSan’s going to have one soon near Silway. It’s going to be even better this.
Stop dreaming.
Argh.

Striving to be happy.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Hi. I’m a guinea pig. and you are….?

The Guinea pig (also commonly called the cavy after its scientific name) is a species of rodent belonging to the family Caviidae and the genus Cavia. Despite their common name, these animals are not pigs, nor do they come from Guinea. They are native to the Andes, and while no longer extant in the wild, they are closely related to several species that are commonly found in the grassy plains and plateaus of the region. The guinea pig plays an important role in the folk culture of many indigenous South American groups, especially as a food source, but also in folk medicine and in community religious ceremonies. Since the 1960s, efforts have been made to increase consumption of the animal outside South America.

In Western societies, the guinea pig has enjoyed widespread popularity as a household pet since its introduction by European traders in the 16th century. Their docile nature, their responsiveness to handling and feeding, and the relative ease of caring for them, continue to make the guinea pig a popular pet. Organizations devoted to competitive breeding of guinea pigs have been formed worldwide, and many specialized breeding of guinea pig, with varying coat colors and compositions, are cultivated by breeders.

Guinea pig is also used as a metaphor in English for a subject of experimentation; this usage became common in the first half of the 20th century. Biological experimentation on guinea pigs has been carried out since the 17th century; the animals were frequently used as a model organism in the 19th and 20th centuries, but have since been largely replaced by other rodents such as mice and rats. They are still used in research, primarily as models for human medical conditions such as juvenile diabetes, tuberculosis, scurvy, and pregnancy complications.

from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Furthermore, the guinea pig is also widely used to provide tissues and organs for research. Guinea pig blood components are widely used, and isolated organ preparations such as guinea pig lung and intestine are extensively used in research to develop new medicines. Such tissue and organ preparations were important in the discovery and early development of beta blockers to treat high blood pressure and drugs to treat stomach ulcers.

Numerous developments have used guinea pig intestine at some point in their development, for example the anti-nausea drugs used by cancer patients and the identification of naturally occurring pain killing substances known as enkephalins. Guinea pig intestine has also been extensively used to study the ‘little brain’ in the gut, which contains as many nerve cells as the spinal cord. This has given giving insights into not only the control of the gut itself but also the workings of nerve circuits. The information gathered from these studies is being used to develop computer models.

Today, guinea pigs are used mostly in research and testing to develop new medicines. The whole living animals are used as well as isolated tissues. 27,101 experiments using live guinea pigs took place in the UK in 2004, representing less than 1% of total animal research in the world.

from RDS: Understanding Animal Research in Medicine

*****************

Well, one thing that interests me about these wonderful creatures is that I will be a guinea pig in the next two years of my pre-university education. A human guinea pig.

Contrary to most guinea pigs in laboratories, I was willing to be put under experiment.

Not in medicine, but in school.

On January 7, the first batch of grade 11 students will begin their classes in SJI International, and I can’t seem to be able to wait anymore. I’m quite excited actually. There is a strange feeling flowing within me that makes me want to put myself on the line of uncertainty and climb on board the school’s maiden voyage to the unfathomable ocean that is the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme. I am not saying that the school is composed of mad scientists who kill their lovely, cute, and cuddly guinea pigs with the abhorrent and deadly stench of formalin and slice their bloated tummies with razor-sharp scalpels and pull out their insides with a pair of stainless tweezers. Of course the school won’t do such a thing to us; after all, despite the ‘international’ status of SJII, we are still a LaSallian school. There’s this so-called integrity that Brother Michael Broughton always tells us to uphold.

Anyway, since I belong to the pioneer batch of students in this new school, there lies the pressure for us to do our very best to bring SJII one step closer to its goal of becoming a renowned international school in Singapore. It would be a majestic feat for us to get outstanding IB results at the end of a two-year cavalry. Imagine the euphoria everyone’s going to have. I would love to get 45 points. For O Levels, no one wants to get 45. Though ironically that’s utterly hard to achieve. Everyone would be either raising eyebrows or laughing at you. Everyone wants to get six. But here, getting 45 points is a common dream for IB students.

As a voluntary guinea pig, a guinea pig who willingly put himself on the experimentation table (take note, some even pleaded to get in) of SJII, I truly hope that I would be able to do my very best not only for my own benefit, but also for the school’s future apperception to Singaporeans and expatriates alike. I am looking forward very eagerly to studying in SJII. And I hope that the school will be a school where everyone is a member of the community; no outcasts, no bullies. And I hope to form a good bond with my new teachers, and meet new friends that I will cherish for many many years.

After all, guinea pigs have feelings too. They feel fear, they feel pain. They’re not just creatures for medical purposes. They have the right to live their own lives too. Right, scientists?

Peace, philippines.

Labor and Employment Secretary Arturo Brion said last Thursday that the Philippines’ economic and industrial sectors were expected to close 2007 with six strikes.

In a statement, Brion cited the Department of Labor and Employment’s National Conciliation and Mediation Board report that between January 1 and December 15 in 2007 only six strikes were reported, making the year “one of most industrially favorable, harmonious, and peaceful years ever in the country’s entire history.”

wow.

-news from www.abs-cbn.com

Clash.

Can you believe it?

What?

You know what I mean.

Oh, that one?

What else.

Of course I don’t.

Why?

Why not?

Is is not believable? I mean, it’s there. It’s written there.

And so? A lot of people get jailed for publishing malicious and scandalous articles.

I know. And it’s not a mere article.

Okay then.

So you believe it?

No. Not at all. And why should I? I have my own beliefs.

Like?

Um. Like Murphy’s Law.

It’s not your belief then. It’s someone else’s.

Then what do you call yours? Your own?

Okay, okay.

See what I mean.

No, it’s not that. I mean, how can this be unreal when we all know that these things have happened indeed.

And do you have proof?

Isn’t this enough proof?

It is not. You jolly well know it is not.

All stories are true, someone told me.

It’s his belief. I can’t blame him.

Then you can’t blame me for believing this.

Well, I hope you can’t blame me too, for believing something else.

Very well then.

Settled.

Something to ponder.

Hear this, all you peoples;
listen, all who live in this world,
both low and high, rich and poor alike:
My mouth will speak words of wisdom;
the utterance from my heart will give understanding.
I will turn my ear to a proverb;
with the harp I will expound my riddle:

Why should I fear when evil days come,
when wicked deceivers surround me-
those who trust in their wealth
and boast of their great riches?
No man can redeem the life of another
or give to God a ransom for him-
the ransom for a life is costly,
no payment is ever enough-
that he should live on forever
and not see decay.

For all can see that wise men die;
the foolish and the senseless alike perish
and leave their wealth to others.
Their tombs will remain their houses forever,
their dwellings for endless generations,
though they had named lands after themselves.

But man, despite his riches, does not endure;
he is like the beasts that perish.

This is the fate of those who trust in themselves,
and of their followers, who approve their sayings.
Like sheep they are destined for the grave
and death will feed on them.
The upright will rule over them in the morning;
their forms will decay in the grave,
far from their princely mansions.
But God will redeem my life from the grave;
He will surely take me to himself.
Do not be overawed, when a man grows rich,
when the splendour of his house increases;
For he will take nothing with him when he dies,
his spledour will not descend with him.
Though while he lived he counted himself blessed-
and men praise you when you prosper-
he will join the generation of his fathers,
who will never see the light of life.

A man who has riches without understanding
is like the beasts that perish.

Psalm 49

*********

Goodbye, 2007.

It is an understatement to tell that 2007 was a tiring year for me. It was more than tiring. It was exhausting. It was so exhausting. It was suffocating. It was killing me.

***

School. Stress. Depression. Faith. Money. Life. Most are banal reasons for this utmost year-long grievance.

***

I have managed to accidentally salvage some photos buried deep within the fortress that is my wardrobe, photos taken when I just came to Singapore, and I have realized that I looked very different from how I look today. And it is not an improvement. I looked happier, brighter, and more cheerful and pleasant 730 days ago. I may have looked like a promdi back then, a newbie to this fast-paced and modern urban jungle, but I was still full of energy, hope and spirit.

Self-pity.

I have become a wilted, walking stick, a perfect representation of a stress-driven study-freak/control-freak/perfectionist/lunatic/nocturne immersed under the powerful and inevitable abysmal pressures of the academic side of life. My eyesight has worsened, my eyes have swollen like jellyfish, the areas around them seem to have been encapsulated within a sea of ebony. My hair is always thick and dry and fuzzy and lifeless. My skin is always pale, my lips are always dry. My body has been a mere skeletal framework to behold; there has been an obvious absence of muscular development indeed. Talk about a living corpse. Tim Burton, let me do your future films.

I have never thought I would end up like this. I have always dreamed of getting fit and strong, but school has endangered my vulnerable health. I wholly may be blamed for being passionately inconsiderate to my own self, but who wouldn’t want to succeed in this battlefield that I have been so desperately eager to conquer? I always wanted to study, study as smart and as hard as I could, sacrificing precious sleeping hours and resting times just to be able to secure good grades. I always wanted to see my school records neat and clean and filled with As. I have tried so very hard to maintain a good discipline in school (you don’t know how difficult it is). I have tried my best to mix and to mingle with the Singaporeans, but I guess I just don’t really click with most of them. We probably live in different worlds. Worst part of the year, the Prelims. The exams in SJI were tough. Really tough. I was depressed for months. Damn depressed.

And money? I always needed it. Duh.
I never had a feeling of financial security because I have been always short of money. And when I went back for my end-of-year vacation, I was always depressed. Seeing my parents, their need to struggle just to keep the family alive, it was very painful for me. Why do they need to struggle. I don’t like seeing them struggling. I just can’t take it.

Truly, O Levels, Prelims, and schoolworks were my blessed trinity. My textbooks and notes constituted my holy bible. My teachers are my preists. Schooldays were my praise and worship sessions. My church? my school. My belief? That by doing your best in your exams you will have eternal happiness in the kingdom of Singapore. What a blasphemous student.

*****

Nevetherless, God has truly never left me, even though most of the times I myself have left myself. I may had been inconsiderate to God most of the time because I oftentimes fail to turn to Him. I felt that my faith has lost its spark as the year went by. I was too preoccupied with earthly tasks and obligations that I have made no room for Him in my heart, mind, and soul. I lost my interest in reading His scriptures, understanding them and putting His Good News into action. Amidst my shortcomings and failures, I would like to thank Him for all the blessings and challenges that He has given me for the year 2007, because I know, although it may be difficult to bear with them, they were given because they serve a purpose in my life. After all, I am just an ordinary man who merely borrowed a life from Him.

All I hope is that I can be strong for the new year to come.

I will do my best, and God will do the rest.