WRITER NEWS

Hey fellow readers, though I doubt there are any loyal readers out there.
Just a heads up on our current condition. We are going through exams for the next week, therefore we seldom have the chance to express our devastating conditions going through IB at the moment. Hope you come back and check on the new things coming up during the summer. =)

He & She

note: This is simply my attempt during the holidays to add a little something before this blog completely writes me off. It's definitely not my best, but enjoy. =)

He was out there on the field. There was nothing more to say. Their story had become more than an epic novel. It has become the obsession of her heart. She loved the way he kissed her head right before he went out and played his heart out on the field, knowing that without that one gesture it wouldn’t be the same. She loved the way her heart felt when she was at his side. Breathing in the very air in which they coexisted together in harmony. Knowing not of the limits of time and their happiness; it was bliss. He had thought of her just the other day, sitting in the coffee shop working on her laptop, the words he could no longer contain. Never was he able to feel such splendor in a simple gaze. “I love you” he said. Surprised, she looked up only to realize it has only been a month before that they shared such sweet intimate memories.

It was the bitter truth that he could no longer be by her side. Could it have been the cost paid for such perfect romance; maybe it was so. However, it didn’t seem to matter, not during the good days, it was when the sweet memories would consume her pain and sorrow she felt every single day he was no longer there. Maybe it was denial, maybe it was wrong in the sights of others, but she cared no longer in the good days. Granted, the waves of joy and sadness come randomly and wash every sane part of her existence. During those times it would seem to the world that she was no more than a troubled young girl, probably in love or insane. True, she might have seemed so.

After months being strained between one that he truly loved and one that seemed so obscure; he was tired. No longer does he wish for the empty laughter he goes through sided by the pitiful existence of himself in the mirror. No longer does he yearn for that serene silence that has now demented itself to become the wounding silence of the night. There was only one thing on his mind, one thing he yearned and could ever dream of. It was the comfort and the soft presence that only she could bring. The very air around her seemed like heaven to his eyes, it was his escape, his serenity and the one place he wished he called home. “How could he be so blind, so stupid and so reckless?” he cursed under his breath every night he felt empty. Hating the very skin upon his degrading body; there were no words left.

They had said more than enough, there was no need for arguments or middle of the night phone calls. It was all said and done. One look said it all. One gentle kiss brought by the gentle winds could bring all of it back. Their love so pure and so true, it was impossible. For the time being his smile was enough, her laughter was enough. The twisted perspectives that drove her up at night till the moon had seem to no longer bring meaning of the change of day could no longer come back. The pitiful eyes and judgment of her friends, the contemptible smiles and nudges on her shoulder from his; brought no more meaning.

At most… Their feelings were true. Everything else seems trivial holding each other’s gaze.

HAPPY MARCH BREAK EVERYONE!!!

Yep, just saying have a great Easter and holiday everyone! True, all of us have a bunch of work, to do, but hey, we've got only three months left to go before school's over, right?! Let's make the most of things for now (:

Not to nag, but try to update, people!

Parting

The arrival of an adjunct to our team, is accompanied by sweet sorrow as epitaph of twilight was gone from our presence. Yet, it is strange, but I feel no great sadness or sorrow. Is it due to the iron encasing my frozen heart? Or is it due to the fact that we still associate with each other in the homeroom. Indeed it led me to the profound thought of partings.

While parting seems to be a big matter to everyone else, the concept of its sorrow is indeed lost to me. Parting is not a curse, it is an inevitable gift. It forces us new perceptions of people, gives time from a mold to a new shadow, allowing a glimmer of metamorphosis. It allows for new opportunities, new impressions, new relationships. Parting is indeed sweet.

Indeed, I see the logic behind the sorrow of parting. Yes, you might never see or hear of that person that you love until he dies or you die. But is it not for the best. At least nothing happens to jeopardize your impressions of him and your memories together. There are indeed possibilities that you and him are destined to have more wonderful memories but there are also possibilities towards the contrary. In positive light, the memories you have are protected forever. When he comes back to you a worse man, you can avoid him using the distance from parting as an excuse. If he comes back a better man, your memories turn sweeter and you can yet again make new memories. Indeed parting is a gentle light that casts bittersweet memories into sweet nostalgia.

Maybe because of the fact that most of my memories here are filled with deep anger, bitterness and sadness that I could not wait to leave to perhaps gain a new hope. But parting, is not the end. It is the beginning of something else, a gift bestowed from God and thus do not be sad if it comes to pass but collect the mementos that are your memories and cherish them so that the time spent is not empty and the parting does not leave a void of emptiness. Friends, when it is time to say goodbye, do not cry. Sayonara.

ANNOUNCEMENT!!

Allright, you guys, it's obvious that I've changed the entire layout of the blog and I hope that you liked it since I spent 2 hours fixing everything. If not, y'all can change it...just tell me first :(

Anway, can someone reinsert the tagboard since I kinda wiped everything out when I changed the template...by accident! And yea, let's hear it for our new fellow blogger teammate, Phoebe! okay, I think that's all for now...

BTW, can someone help me fix the font and colour of the blog and stuff? I think I made a mess... And can someone sign us up for the expat blog thing so we know our ranking....Just askin around :)

Being Short

*Wow, it’s been, what, two months since I updated?…Ah well, hope this’ll make up for the time gaps, folks. Enjoy :) *


I swear they all seemed to be giants; large towering bulks of bodies striding past my small, insignificant being without so much of a glance let alone acknowledgement of my existence. Their eyes projected toward those of their own height, rarely looking downward, save for the few, rare moments in which a shoelace would come untied and they would have no other choice but to bend down and take notice of puny, little you. Sauntering down the busy streets of Toronto, where people of every personality, culture, as well as temperament would emerge, I often would feel even smaller and more vulnerable than I would otherwise have felt if I happened to be lost in the polluted alleyways of Indonesia, accentuating my lofty height of a mere 5”2 among the locals.

I admit, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration regarding my sentiments toward my given height. Ever since I moved to Indonesia, I realized that there are others of a much shorter measurement than I happen to be, but nonetheless, one could not keep the misgivings of intimidation at bay when compared to taller beings, especially in the instance of when they happen to stand side-by-side with you coincidentally in the elevator or wherever else chance meetings would take place. Living in Canada had definitely taught me a few things, one of them the idea that being short was not always fun and never truly advantageous, especially in a world filled with people who would smile at you indulgently as you strive to reach for a book placed at a particularly high shelf that they themselves could effortlessly reach. How that would at times irk me, especially when they ask if you need their assistance after you’ve stretched yourself to the limit on your tiptoes, with your arms flailing about you in desperation. Ha.

Numerous times I would resent my stubby little self, being reminded of my height, or lack thereof, every so often when a friend would remark that I’m practically a ‘midget’. How lovely is it also to be considered one of the tallest students in class when you’re 10, only to be surpassed in later years as the rest of your friends sprouted, leaving you behind in the same height as you were years ago. Thanks for the reminder that I myself often tell to others, I truly appreciate it. What’s even more frustrating would be that perfect strangers would also comment on my petite-ness (*ooh, I coined a new word!*); at an Esprit shop in Australia, I had so far managed to impress among the towering store sellers of my ‘small frame’ as I browsed for new jeans which were all of a larger measurement than I would’ve ever fit into! I walked out of the dressing room with jeans at least two inches too long for me, drawing out laughter from even myself as I twirled in front of a mirror.

Ah, the negative outlook on life I would eventually have if I must continually gawk upwardly at those giants. I’ve tried everything to grow taller; from praying for a growth spurt (only lasted a couple of days before I gave up) to jumping repeatedly to reach the ceiling in the hopes of such ridiculous movements would stretch my little self length-wise rather than sideways. For the last couple of years, I’ve finally decided to accept the fact that I will always be short and could do nothing else to change that physical trait unless some miracle was granted to me. I’ve tried to convince myself since now that being short isn’t always so bad, so long as I could fend for myself despite my height on the streets or wherever else I may be. So far, it isn’t working. But I’ll persuade myself yet :)

A Matter of Heart

Note: I apologize for any offensive material or any flaws. By the way, is the use of the term "ass" permissible? If it is not, please notify so I could replace it with something else.

It was upon noticing that the last two entries are mine, that I truly feel sorrow.
I am not a man who keeps his commitments or even care, but man, is it how the younger generation is now? Do they do everything half-ass like this blog? That even a half-ass person like me noticed? Talk about not keeping commitments. Originally, the posts were supposed to be once a week. Then it was pushed to twice a week. Yet the last entry other than mine is dated January 2. Two months without an entry other than mine, which means around seventeen entries that seems to be either invisible or not done...

I am not complaining about the less work I have to do. Rather I am complaining about how what everyone does is half-ass and does not have an inch of heart if its not for their own self. It filled me tongue with bitterness as I was hoping to get the "Half-ass no heart" award, but since there is so much competition, it had been rather hard. sob -_-

This is probably the problem plaguing our society today. There is not an inch of altruism in a mile of youngsters out there. Half-ass friendships. Half-ass work. Half-ass talk. Half-ass eating. Half-ass dating. I realize that there is probably very little meaning in everything and anything they do but it truly scares me of how so many people had not even an inch of heart to devote to such a small commitment and it truly reflects in their level of devotion. What scares me even more is how if this continues how others might suffer. How long till you are taking your old parents in a half-ass manner? Or how long till you don't put in even half an ass and just abandon your commitments.

Its Chinese New Year people! Time to make resolutions. Its time to put your whole ass where the work is no matter how sore your buttocks will be in the end. I am probably the last person to say this since I am a loafer but how busy can you be that you cannot afford to spend minus 30 minutes typing some short but meaningful entry in a four day holiday. It might of course be just a mistake of mine though that you have half-ass attitude. And if so please forgive me, I do not mean to offend you. Surely your brain is too important for this kind of things. Or that you are too busy with your friends and I having no friends, have no place to criticize you for your endlessly busy social life. The truth is life is full of obligations and if you can't keep one even though you don't like it or even if you are hellishly busy, that alone makes me judge you.
And frankly, I am tired of judging people in a bad manner.

The Political Man

Being rather detached from common matters, it has not come to my attention that indeed, politics had dominated the world, that every child, teen, man and woman are interested, knowledgeable and regularly practice politics. Such a revelation astounded me endlessly and even more so when I found out that I too was involved in such intricacies of politics despite my best effort. Upon this discovery, I had noticed that within a certain group, there are certain recurring roles in the relational politics within usual social groups and had taken the time to notice their most prominent roles and traits, which I had listed down below.

The first role would be the black sheep, which is at the outermost of the social circle. The black sheep is not necessarily disliked but most often is. Open hostility might occur, in varying degrees and occasions but in most cases, hostility is covert and other members usually treat the black sheep decently. A number of factors could establish one as the black sheep within a group, most prominently: color, age, gender or abilities. Usually, the most prominent factor would be abilities, as society had never tolerated failure and inferiority compared to the other factors. In government politics, lack of wealth would be the most deciding factor as money indeed covers up for any crippling traits. The black sheep is ostracized from the rest of the group in various ways though depending on the group the role of the black sheep is not completely transparent as the black sheep could also be in the inner circles but be the one the rest of the circle secretly make fun of behind his back.

The second role would be the leader sheep, one who directs the trend in the social circle. Usually, the person is in the inner circle and thus could influence the rest of the circle on what to hate or like. This role is the one who is most influential in the decision of who the black sheep is. This person is usually the most charismatic and is usually adored by the rest of the circle, along with a certain confidence and ability to talk well with the rest of the group. A major drawback would be that those at the outmost circle would usually have resentment towards this leader. All social events would include the leader sheep and the rest of the group usually follows the political views of the leader sheep despite their own values.

The third role would be the neutral sheep. This person having no sides is rather more oblivious to any politics than the rest of the circle. In fact, they could not even be considered as in any circle. The neutral sheep does not take sides in argument unless it directly involves them or their values. The neutral sheep is usually a tag-along with any group, have an agreeable and friendly nature that no one dislikes but no one sincerely likes as well. This type of role is rarely involved in anything social or rarely has any social information unless they happen to be in earshot. The neutral sheep is most likely to be converted to the black sheep when the role of black sheep is lost or temporarily gone and of such usually have sympathy for the black sheep.
The fourth role would be that of the playful sheep. This sheep provides comic into the otherwise dreary life of the social group. Usually does amusing things and well liked by most of the group. In the middle circles of the group.

The rest of the group would be the followers of the leader in that clique. Usually easily manipulated and gas lighted. This does not mean that they are stupid, but easily influenced.
These roles are usually inter-mixed though and a person with a role might adopt similar characteristics to other roles. In my mind, even if it took me several lifetimes, I would never really understand everything about politics and I sincerely decline to even try. The thing is, despite whatever I say that it is unavoidable to have politics because it is inbreeded into the core of relationships. And that is probably why I am forced to take notice no matter what, even though it is a huge bother.

Ordinary Nostalgia

Note: I apologize for whatsoever assault to your senses had occurred and everything and anything bad that had happened to your life from your birth to the point you finish reading this entry. So please don't sue.

Most people who know me would probably agree that I am indeed anti-social. But to a certain degree, I still have interactions socially though it is indeed limited. These interactions though limited are fun indeed and I find pleasure in reminiscence. However, as time glides, my memory fails me such that even the power of nostalgia find it impossible to open the doors of my mind to the key points of my social life. So, in a desperate attempt to reclaim the past so that I could look unashamedly to the future, I have decided to share them no matter how boring they are to you so that at if I don't remember, at least the internet would have it, so that to some degree not all of my childhood life is forgotten.

While I had never been close to a girl outside my family in either relationship or proximity during my childhood, I did have memories of some of them, especially the girls in Singapore for no particular reason. My first year in Singapore, I fell prey to puppy love, something I thought I would never have. She was astoundingly big hearted and was admirably oblivious to my various oddities. Up to this day, I fondly recall her mischievous smile and her sleek black hair. Of course given my extraordinarily bad luck with girls, I was treated less than decently by some of them. One that would stand in my mind is a Malay girl called Emi..... with which I had a fierce rivalry with for a position within the class. Ironically though, she was the first girl to have ever called me at my home and probably one of the few that ever will.

Another prominent girl that I recall vividly would be old, whats her name. To recall, at my first impressions, she caught my eye as she was quite beautiful and a prefect on top of that, so I was eager to cast the best impressions. My experiences with her had however taught me a few things about life such as:

The first would be that females are prone to violent, irrational behavior for no apparent reason. As I was twiddling my thumbs, looking at the scenery to the window, for no apparent reason than that probably the fact that I had assaulted her senses in some way, she had decided to hit my head with a bottle, hard, probably resulting in a small decrease of IQ. Not only that she used to mock me. To this day, with her image burned to my memory, I had never associated with violent girls unless necessary.

The second would be that it cultivated in me a degree of rebelliousness, a hate for the authority despite an understanding for its need. Being that she was a prefect, I never got round the impression that all authority deceives people publicly but abuses their power violently in private.

Why she was most featured prominently in this entry would be that she was to my child self, the epitome of meanness. From that point onwards in my life, I could not be rational in my first judgments and impressions of a girl. For instance, I have a completely irrational initial bad judgment of girls with really short hair and anybody similar to her. In some way, though, I am grateful for her evil as being myself, I am incapable of having a preference and her treatment to me had narrowed it down significantly.

While this entry might be boring to everyone, it is to me an enjoyable trip to somewhere distant, a childhood long past, a time when all was innocent before girls were evil and after girls were. Indeed I apologize if I had occupied the internet with rambles such as these which has no thought put into it whatsoever but I feel it necessary to help myself recover the things no one else knew and understood but my past self and my present self.

a great start.

It was a Sunday - the day I needed to retrieve my Bible from my usual green Jansport school bag - when I realized that it wasn't where it was supposed to be. Assuming that it may be somewhere within the house, that my maids must have put them somewhere else during the start of Christmas break, I called them and asked for it. As for the Bible, I borrowed my father's and went off to church.

Arriving back home for lunch, I expected it to already be in my room.
But it wasn't. Still, it's purpose was no longer needed and so I retreated to other activities that may aid in relaxation during the three-week school break.

A few days later, I again searched for the bag to take out my pencil case. Unsurprisingly, it still wasn't where it was supposed to be. So I had to again inquire the help of my maids to help me find the missing bag. However, realizing that the holiday was still far from over, I decided to postpone the need for the pencil case and therefore stopped searching for my bag.

By this time, the slight tinge of worriness has had me asked my maids to search the entire house. They couldn't find it. All this time, my parents had no clue what was going on.

How could a school bag that heavy/large suddenly be missing inside the house? I thought the maids weren't looking hard enough and I decided to search for it myself.

They were right. It wasn't in the house.
So I checked the car we used to get home, the classes, my homeroom, my locker, even under my bed.

I told my father on the 30th of December, who then told my mother. Like me, they found it hard to believe how a bag that large/heavy could have disappeared so easily. They were furios, but not in the way I had expected them to be. Except for a couple of snide remarks and warnings, no punishment has been given yet.

This is the 2nd day of 2008. School's about to start.

I am an 11th-grader striving to recieve an IB Diploma, and I have just lost the entire contents of my school bag - which contains invaluable notes, books, and equipment needed for me to achieve in what is already a grueling and stressfu academic year.

This may be the biggest mistake of my life.

So much for a great start.