Emo-reflective Post!
Had another funky dream!
I dreamt that Teng Hui and I were going to some party at a KFC restaurant. He DROVE [in the restaurant!] while I sat in the passenger’s seat, pointing out which seats looked ideal. At one point, I pointed to a big booth, but he whacked my arm and snapped, “Stop being stupid Julia, those are reserved!”
After some grumbling, I chose a seat near the display of pretty cakes. The cakes looked all Christmas-sy and pretty, we were oohing and aahing at them. The KFC in the dream made the KFC in reality look like a puking pit; it had chandeliers and pink booths and glass walls and oh heck, everything pretty! Unicorns and rainbows etc.
So we settled down, and people began to file into the restaurant, I think they were my classmates. We decided to set up a little fire, and so we roasted marshmellows on it. We stabbed marshmellows with our sticks and I did something really odd – I split the marshmellow a little down the middle, and stuffed the middle with filling.
What filling?
Gooey highlighter ink.
I roasted the highlighted marshmellow and chewed.
Surprisingly, it was quite yummy. My teeth were probably luminating in the dark.
Suddenly, I was in a dark place. I don’t even know where it is, it’s just some place which had loads of plants and little man-made ponds, like a school compound. Sarah started shaking the plants, salt and sugar thus began to fall from the leaves “See?!” she exclaimed, “I was right!” and Eunice nodded in agreement.
We grew tired after walking around that… area.
Eunice took the bus home [WHOA! Now THAT'S really crazy!], so I called Teng Hui to see whether he could drive me home.
The dude who answered my call was Calvin instead of Teng Hui.
I don’t know which Calvin my dream was referring to, there’re like, 3 Calvins whom I know. He kindly told me that he’d pass the message to Teng Hui.
While waiting for slaveTeng Hui to pick me up, I decided to stoll down Orchard Road. In a distance, a performing band caught my eye. When I got closer, the sight was hilarious. 4 guys were dressed up in blue, metallic suits and sporting 1980-Bon-Jovi-hairstyles. Dried, frizzy black clumps of moss planted on their heads. Hell, their bad suits nearly covered up their bad singing.
Eventually, I bumped into Afiq on the street.
He was holding a DnT file and said that he was on his way to Spotlight to buy fabric. I replied by telling him I was heading to the bakery.
He tagged along, and we entered a bakery shop. Afiq whined, “Not again!” (?!) after which, I pointed at a tray of silver coloured hot dogs and squealed, “Ohmygosh! I love those hotdogs!”
Afiq laughed, turned around and grabbed a bowl with the words “Egg Onion” on it, it had boiled eggs swimming in a translucent gooey substance, like shark’s fin. He poured the bowl over the silver hotdogs, and I screamed like a girl, “Afiq! Nooo!” Yuck, I can’t believe I screamed like a girl.
He realised that he had created a big mess, the owner of the shop yelled at him that he would have to work for her until he manages to pay it off.
Suddenly, I was teleported to TK’s school canteen.
Seated on one of the benches, I turned to my left and Chee Yang was sitting there, picking away at a little cup of ice cream.
“Oh,” I began.“They sell ice cream in school now?”
“Like, duh,” He waved his spoon impatiently in the air. “They sell loads of it at the 1st stall.”
I thanked him, and wandered off towards the 1st stall.
I threw the fridge door open and the midst of rummaging for ice cream, a boom of protest rang out from behind me. I whirled around, only to find the vendor in a menacing stance with an annoyed face.
“What you want,” he sneered.
“Um, I’m just looking for ice cream,” I lamented.
With reluctance and some grumbling under his breath, the vendor slammed down some rice paper onto the counter and plopped a tiny puddle of chocolate fudge in the middle.
“Make it strawberry banana-nut flavour,” I spoke up.
Erm, I don’t think that flavour really exists, but it sounds yummy though. Mmm.. Strawberry banana-nut.. d’oh!
His gruffy pupils bore into my mine. He glanced back down at his work, and finished the “ice cream” off by wrapping it up, then he lifted the rice paper and thrusted it towards me with a snappy “NAH!”
Unbothered by his irrational irritation, I took the rice paper in my hands and headed back to my seat.
I peeled the rice paper and began licking the little puddle of fudge.
It was strawberry banana-nut flavour after all.
My first food dream! Could this mean I’m a glutton?
Or maybe it was the cookies before bedtime.
Despite his irritation, the vendor still gave me what I wanted, even though it was disguised as something else.
This probably just sounds like another cheesy proverb which your grandfather would say, but maybe there really is a little good in everyone.
Behind every intimidating exterior, behind every scornful membrane, behind every presumptuous layer, lies a vulnerable or compassionate core. This applies to the case where I’m giving everyone the benefit of a doubt, of course, but I’m quite certain that no human being can lack that much emotion.
Teehee, it’s nice when dreams are coupled with revelations.
We needed to do some project work together today, one of the members was being his usual eccentric self. Well, the usual things – Scheming ways on how to kill humans with paper clips, rambling about how things aren’t gory enough, tossing around cynical inputs, dozing off, throwing things at Paula and me, mocking Teng Hui, stabbing Teng Hui’s foot with the chair legs.
Let’s call him X.
Ordinarily, we’d exchange oh-yeah-he’s-just-being-weird-again looks whenever X did something odd. When I touched his wallet, which I shouldn’t have but I was too excited as the wallet had a DeathNote theme on it, he slapped my hand and threw a rubber string at me, and he kept fiddling with a pair of scissors, pretending to stab Paula in the neck or back.
The only positive thing about X is probably his pretty lips.
Whenever he talks, he looks as if he’s smiling, but it’s the just the curved tips of his mouth which makes him look like that.
Teng Hui severely thinks that he just has a broken mind, that he’s mean and all that.
But after school, Paula and I bumped into Haniel! I used to think Haniel was a grotesque idiot who deserves no attention, and so does everyone I suppose, but he’s actually quite a bright and nice guy. Plus, Paula and I concluded that he’d look hot if he looses his spectacles, but that’s another issue.
We chanced upon the topic about X. Haniel said that X’s physically weaker than the boys, perhaps somewhat different from the rest of the guys in terms of size and other aspects. So he probably tries to shield this vulnerability with an intimidating armour. I thought it made a lot of sense, rather than the theory about him just being plain mean. There has to be a reason.
It was kind of sad when I thought about it. I started to notice the nice things X does/did, even if it was out of reluctance. In fact, after throwing the rubber string at me for touching his DeathNote wallet, he offered to lend me his English-translated DeathNote comics. Plus, he helps Paula explain math questions. And I think anyone as passionate in computer games as he is would get along with him just fine.
Synonymously [Argh, too much literature seeping into my head], the vendor in my dream is similar to X. I really feel that people should hesitate to label him as an evil twit or asshole even though he may plot to kill you with paper clips and a highlighter cap, he’s no different from the rest of us, I’m sure.
Also, my sister’s friend’s dad recently passed away. His death left her family burdened with financial problems, so my sister decided to donate a couple of hundred bucks to her. She tried asking the girl’s classmates to chip in too, but they blurted, “WAH 200 ARH?! SO MUCH LEH!”
The irony is that my sister is THE girl who hates everything and everyone, bitches about every classmate and is rather unfriendly to them, but she was the only one willing to really help out while all the girl’s friends turned away, only to cowardly send a few useless messages like, “Cheer up” and “You’ll pull through” Words can only do so much.
Yep, like the cliche proverb states; don’t be judgemental towards meanies, because they might just be the ones who would offer you help in the end.
I used to roll my eyes and scoff whenever I heard that because I thought it was false, but I’ve finally discovered what it really means. I’m not trying to preach, it was just a really neat revelation for me. 
Yuck, this sounds so… Emo-reflective -shivers-
Maybe it’s this sad song playing now which created such a depressing ambience. Sigh.
There’s always the possibility that X’s just plain mean though.
After all, he said, “I don’t think there’s any problem in killing women and children.”
SCANDAL!
I witnessed an unbelievable scandal yesterday, whoooo!
Guess who was caught with an elderly lady clinging lovingly to his arm?
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Mr Saddie Face! On second thought, I should’ve drawn a pink smiley with hearts as eyes.
After being caught red-handed in this scandal, he made me promise not to reveal to anyone his secret identity, in exchange for letting me keep the picture.
What. were. they. up. to?
*dang dang dang*
Okay, jokes aside, he was actually just helping out the old lady cross the road, like a good, nice Samaritan.
…yeah right! When pigs fly, haw!
He was really just up to something scandalous. Tsk tsk.
Half of the common test results were disappointing.
I didn’t expect Poon to allocate such shitty marks for English. The minute I saw my grade, I had the urge to flick something at her.
I failed social studies with a 12/25, something which I expected anyway. I detest listening to Tan Tsui Fung’s classes because if I did, I’d need to filter out all her one-dimensional propaganda speech and learn what is actually going to be tested, which is a big fat hassle and my fat brain is too lazy. Oh, and filter out all her dumb adventure stories with her daughter at Sentosa, which usually leave me drooling over the social studies textbook and snoring on my table.
Literature and A math were the only 2 A1s I managed to salvage.
The 3rd most proudest result was Chinese, it was a pass!
Damn I’m good.
It also turns out that 3C’s the worst pure science class in Physics and Chemistry, after the comparison was shown. I’m not too bothered, it just seems like one of those typical hypocritical things that teachers do all the time – usually insisting that comparing is not the way to go because you should only compare yourself, but in the end, they force this academic competition upon us. They don’t seem to realise that it’s unsuccessful in motivating us to do better, it simply creates friction of hatred between classes. There’s no other intellectual or mature way of putting it, so I’ll just say it – Fuck you, teachers.
On a funnier note, Sarah got stuck in a toilet cubicle today while changing for P.E.
Yep that’s right, we pon P.E no more. The Ponning Club has been disbanded.
The lock was jammed, and she started screaming in frustration while we were screaming with amusement. Rui Wen went into the neighbouring cubicle and managed to perch herself on the wall which separated the cubicles. Paula and I tried to un-jam the lock with a coin, but she still couldn’t get out. It was just hilarious like hell, and in a sudden second, the lock suddenly budged and she was free.
That toilet hates Sarah, hah.
You can imagine what a ridiculous excuse we had to recite to Balbinder when we were late for P.E. Like.. “I was stuck in the toilet!” it’s like one of those ‘the dog ate my homework’ kind of excuse, which made it even more funny.
Another dumb thing happened to me on the bus a couple of days ago.
It was 6.30am, and I was groggy, so I wasn’t aware of who was boarding the bus because I was too emersed in thinking grumpy thoughts.
Suddenly, I felt a slight tug on my hair.
I tried to ignore it, but I kept having the vague sense that my ponytail was being pulled.
I shifted around, hoping the werido behind me would realise that any second I could just punch him. But nooo. He continued. I gritted my teeth and tolerated it until I reached school, occasionally fidgeting around.
When I alighted the bus, I took a look at who it was.
Well, nothing too exciting or oh-my-god-ish. He was just a secondary school student from another school, and he looked innocent enough. But looks are deceiving man, I wonder what the hell he was thinking.
I thought that maybe he was, I dunno, wiping his mucus or chewing gum onto my hair (?!)
But it wasn’t infected with such crap when I checked. Gah. Weirdos sometimes…
Anyway, guilt has been washing over me these couple of days.
Teng Hui topped the class for physics, yet, after recess, he came up to me to tell me how terrible his physics grade was compared to 3A.
I flared up, and snapped, “GAAAHHHH!!! Good lord. Dude, you topped the class, you’ve gotten an A. Don’t compare yourself to others, it’s stupid.” But he continued to complain anyway, and I continued to implode like a corked volcano.
Looking back, I guess he didn’t mean any harm. He was actually quite proud about his physics marks because it was the first time he’d topped the class in anything, but maybe he just felt insecure or he wasn’t used to it, or maybe he just wanted to marvel at the ever so brilliant 3A.
My guilt gland was triggered when he finally replied, “Oh my god, relax man. So agitated… I’m just saying that 3A people are really smart.” and so I realised. I felt even more guilty when he helped me with physics. I should really start to learn how to stifle my anger.
Gah, brain juices have run out.
Here’re a couple of random pictures.
Was shopping the other day, and found this:
The perfect price would be… Six thousand, nine hundred and ninety.
In that case, I don’t wanna know what the ‘outrageous’ prices are…
Roderick hiding behind Paula’s mask. Yippee Yay.
Confession
I was looking around my room and suddenly discovered my weakness. I’m ashamed, but oh yes, it’s true.
Then, self-denial kicked in – I refused to believe my bitter revelation. I never thought of it as a weakness, it was just there all along and I never realised it was wrong. Oh man that rhymes, I can be a song writer when I grow up nyaha.
Anyhoo, I’ve decided to come face to face with my problem. I realised that there probably isn’t any tangible way of resolving it, but acknowledging it is the first step. This is it man.
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I’m a sucker for Plushies.
Plushies probably the most useless things ever created on the face of the Earth since Friendster. They’re just balls of cheap cloth filled with styrofoam and 2 black buttons stabbed into it as eyes. They’re sold at at least 10 or 20 bucks each, the price of 5 bunches of bananas, or the price of 8 chicken rices, or half a CD. kAwAii-nEhX girls buy them. They are bought then thrown in a corner to collect dust. It is one accesory every ah lian needs to live up to their title.
But who gives a shit lah, they’re cute. Aren’t they? Aw.
My bedsheets look girly too. Maybe I’m actually a girl after all. Hmm.
If you noticed, I don’t own any pig plushies.
I gave all of them to Dee, I think I’ll go buy another one for her.
The teddy on the far right has been my faithful companion for 15 years. It used to belong to my sister, so it’s been around for approximately 19 or 20 years. It has all my drool from childhood and the rubbish bell necklace I made for it when I was 7, and it reeks faintly of baby powder which I god-knows-why applied on it. I love it!
Yeah all of that was just irrelevent.
Today Eunice, her friend and I visited Cineleisure after school, it’s been a while since I’d been there.
You can meet all sorts of people in that lone building, I swear.
Turn to your right, there’s that girl wearing spongebob decorated leg warmers, turn to your left, there’s that bunch of dudes appearing as though they’re checking out jewellary/neoprints but in fact they’re just checking their hair in the reflection of the glass, lift your head, there’s that bunch of girls poking each other with voodoo dolls on the escalator, look down, there’s that dude who’s staring oddly at you from the level below.
On one of the higher levels, there’s this huge advertisement for Singapore Idol plastered against the wall. They allowed people to write on it, and there right smack in the middle is a Panasonic TV replaying every commercial about Singapore Idol.
One of the commercials made it sound as if Rahima has died or something. Just because she didn’t stick around long enough to sing the Rock genre for the week, Singapore Idol had to cook up some big hoohaa about it. I swear. They filmed the commercial in a brown & white tinge, and they featured the dates when Rahima got into the competition and left it – which made it look as if she died – with dramatic music playing in the background.
Rubbish. They couldn’t even be subtle about wanting us to vote for talent, not there’s any. Lousy persuasion skills. Everyone’s whining about how Joaqim [don't care about the spelling] should just die but the ah lians are overpopulating this seemingly unanimous protest. They lurk in the corners and burst out when you’re not on guard.
Well anyway, we decided to do our bit for society – criticising. Or more like just criticising emo-kid-ly.
It’s a chance to vandalise legally! Who could pass that up?
Indeed it does.
Sorry to the other 100 Calvins out there, it’s most probably not referring to you. We were itching to write something, but didn’t know what. So we just decided to do our old thing. We used to do this quote quite often, but it wore off. But it’s resurrected again!
On the bus ride home, the bus was too crowded, so I settled down on a seat beside a sleeping monk.
He was slumped in the corner, and dressed in long robes of maroon and carried a cloth sack as a bag.
I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. There I was, sitting pretentiously with an iPod in one hand and my handphone in the other, Converse shoes pulled onto my feet, wearing clothes which probably cost more than 20 plushies. And there was the monk – dressed simply with sandals strapped to his feet, his ez-link card in his hand and catching a nap.
It’s probably wrong to stereotype all monks as peaceful and kindly beings, but let’s assume that this monk was. I found myself wishing that I didn’t need all these dumb things stickered to my body. How I wished I didn’t care. I don’t need Bruce Springsteen singing to my ears, I don’t need to send smses to people or call them, I don’t need fancy shoes, don’t need don’t need don’t need.
But I’m far gone. These things have been etched deep into my skin, and it’ll be frustrating and annoying to have it being peeled off the pores. It’s frightening to realise that these monstrous wants and needs have been injected into my veins for years, a poison slowly seeping into the heart which kills you but gives you the impression that adrenaline is pumping through your veins instead of venom. I see the people on the bus and realise that they’ve all been infected as well. Except that monk.
At that point in time, I just really wished that I was that monk instead.
It’s kind of stupid to be chasing after things just because they’re there and seemingly permanent, but in the end, what we’re really looking for is intangible.
There were some teenagers nearby, pointing and sniggering at the monk.
As usual, my heart was once again filled with disgust, and thoughts about stuffing bananas into their grotesque mouths ran through my head.
Sneering at things that are different, emersed in thinking about which pair of underwear to wear tomorrow, drowning in a pool swimming with well, just crap..
I felt sorry for them for their superficiality, shallowness and phony antics. The sad thing is that to a certain extent, I’m identical to them…
Sitting next to the monk, it was as if we were 2 extreme ends of the spectrum.
And I don’t want to be on this side of the fence.
Don’t worry people.. I’m not going to become a monk when I grow up..
Or maybe I was just going hysterical on the bus. Long bus rides do that to you.
I probably need more stuff to occupy my time with, like… Plushies.
Adventure at Big Big House.
Lizard and I counted: 8 cars. Plus another 2 cars which were parked waaaay [you can imagine how big the garage is] behind, and plus the car which we were riding on.
That makes it 11 cars. Minus a couple of cars since they belonged to Eunice’s relatives, that equals to 9 cars. That’s some heavy road tax.
Now that the house is filled with furniture, it looks smaller than I remembered, but it’s still gigantic x238947 nonetheless.
She even has 2 coffee tables which are fish tanks! How damn cute is that.
And she has a foosball table, 2 huge egg-y chairs, a pool bar, an mini aquarium, a big pool table, a basketball net thing, a movie/karaoke room, a library with one of those sliding ladders, cute black lying-chair thingys, huge Panasonic flat screen TVs in every room, fingerprint locks and blah blah blah blah, we didn’t even explore the entire house completely.
Lizard and I were just like… GAH! The most incredulous feature of the house was the fingerprint locks.
You know in those action movies where the spies always have to have their fingerprints scanned before entering a room? She has that. Good lord.
I wouldn’t even have enough stuff to fill up the house.
It’s. Just. Realleh. Beeg. We can even just go there to have a workout. I bet she has a gym room hidden somewhere there.
It was fun to spend time with them besides during tuition. During tuition, we’re too frustrated in trying to do the math sums and too concentrated in attempting to even understand the math sums to have fun with each other.
At one point, we started reading one of Eunice’s vampire mangas. Cheesy to the max! We reanacted one scene where a dude and a girl stood with their backs facing each other, and the words were, “We are the defenders..” It was so damn cheesy!
After a while, we decided to go to McDonalds, dragging Josh and Cedric along.
Ohh yeah, Eunice’s house is convieniently situated near a fast food joint too. Perfect, after our workout, we could pig out at McDonalds.
Apparently there’s some minister or a government service dude who lives near Eunice.
When we walked towards the house, the security guard outside the house was staring at us, he didn’t even bother to hide his staring.
We decided to take another shortcut instead.
As a form of goodbye, we stuck peace signs onto our cheeks and smiled act-cutely at him.
He still looked pretty stoned, it must be a boring job after all.
Turns out that the other shortcut was through a vast, unused field. It was pitch black, and a lone tree grew smack in the middle of the field. The ambience was pretty creepy, and Josh & Cedric being all manly, walked waaay ahead. Lizard broke the ambience with her dumb handphone ringtones, yeah, it wasn’t so scary anymore.
One strange thing Josh did. He decided to take a nap in Eunice’s room.
So he used a chair as a blanket and the floor as his mattress.
I’m not surprised. He’s remained weird after all these years.
After all, he was the one who believed Lizard’s joking remark that Eunice was infatuated with him.
Eunice and Josh are cousins.
Horse
I dreamt that I was a horse.
I, being a horse, was um, galloping among the green hills. They were a replica of the hills in New Zealand, except smaller.
The sun was dropping and my shadow cluttered around my feet, and several people were soon pouring in.
There were a few scattered trees were rooted to the bare ground. Someone was with me, I can’t remember who. I think it was Colin. He poked me and ran off after bubbling excitedly that he was going to snap some pictures of a bird which was supposedly hiding in the trees, and told me to stay behind the hill.
I, being a horse, didn’t obey. I wandered off to see what all the fuss was about, everyone was mumbling and yelling with so much excitement. Colin was hiding behind another hill, and he started yelling something at me with his camera waving wildly in the air. Simultaneously, gunfire was heard.
Something warm and sticky trickled down my nose snout (?)
Someone had shot my face, and slowly, 2 of my legs curled. I transformed into a human with a bullet in my face.
Suddenly, I was at home in the living room. My sister and father were slouching about, oblivious to my state.
I screamed, “I’m dying, and none of you gives a fuck?!” and proceeded to run into my room and cry in bed.
My father came in later, and comforted me, saying that he’ll take me to the vet on Sunday, to see whether the vetenarian could somehow extend my life.
I sniffled. There was this awful pang, I knew that I was going to die.
He drove me to an old warehouse. Piles and piles of old mattresses were slumped everywhere, the area reeking of urine.
A man in a white coat and wrinkles cracking into his skin emerged from the house, bent down and peered over his spectacles. He examined my bleeding wound.
After a few seconds, he heaved a sigh, “I’m sorry,” and left.
Pictures!
Who the hell is ‘Chis’?!
*dang dang daang*
It was most probably meant to be Chris, but what sort of classmate would… Ergh.
I can’t help thinking that Yong G might be the answer. Hah, kidding. But not really.
School was kind of lame, and not to mention cheap. They enmeshed Racial Harmony Day, TK Bazaar AND National Day celebration all into one.
Pfft. At least it was an actual half-day, not a half-day-on-a-Friday-but-still-gotta-stay-back-to-clean-the-classrooms day.
Somehow it wasn’t as exciting. Little cups of coke were sold for 80 cents each, nasi lemak was sold for $2.50 while the canteen sold it for $1, Talentsearch was a bobo, the flowers which Paula ordered arrived dying and Mr Tchen didn’t allow us to set up the song dedication booth due to some shithead who broke the system last year.
So we stayed put in class after Taletsearch.
Is that.. Teng Hui holding a purse? Oh nos!
Teng Hui shielding his face with the diseased rose.
Holding a purse.. Now.. Holding a flower.. Oh no Teng Hui!
Sure, they look pretty.
But underneath all that pretty petals, they’re dying. DYING. Dumb flowers.
Teng Hui + Weirong.
Terence stealing Paula’s phone.
Mingjie! I like the way he always accompanies a “Hi!” with a dance move, cuteness man.
Argh okay, this is meaningless post.
Just see the pretty pictures.
We’re Doomed
Sarah: I like fish. They’re like shit. Did you know that Fish is also spelt as Shit if you rearrange the letters? Except without the ‘t’. So Fish should be called Tish instead, so that they’ll be like shit. Hahaha.
Ah, what now? Teachers monitoring our blogs? Mmm.
The Principle, whom I hadn’t seen for weeks, suddenly appears in front of us to threaten us. Should we even think about complaining about a teacher on our blogs, we shall be expelled *dang dang dang*
They insist that they’re monitoring our blogs for the sake of safety and curb us from breaking the law, such as making racist comments. That sounds like a rather meek excuse to me. Nah, they’re monitoring our blogs to curb us from tarnishing their reputation. Teachers don’t like to be proven wrong, but when they are, they kinda know it, but to cloud their shame, they punish the student instead.
Well, reasons actually exist as to why students would even complain/curse about you in the first place. We don’t pick any random thing to yak about. We’re mostly [I'm assuming] capable of hating someone with sufficient reasons.
I’m sure teachers complain about their students too, but verbally between each other instead of online. They’d rather have us complaining about them behind their backs than to have our complaints projected, I mean, shouldn’t they be worrying about WHY the students are angry in the first place, instead of fretting on how to stop us?
The best way to stop us from defaming you is to actually acknowledge your flaws and correct them.
Sure, the student may be at fault as well, but how on Earth did you handle the situation to result in hatred?
It’s just wrong wrong wrong wrong, all over. Monitoring our blogs. I wouldn’t be surprised if Singapore eventually evolves into some Big Brother or utopian sort of society. Signs are showing now, our personal lives are slowly being invaded and watched, and they’re always attempting to instill particular mindsets into us. “Don’t even THINK about…” the teachers and Principle say. They’re becoming the Thought Police, hey, like George Orwell’s 1984!
Just the other day, during assembly, they invited some performers to showcase they’re love for Singapore, most likely in attempt to shake us out of hatred for Singapore which some of us may feel and <3 Singapore instead. Singapore does not have any sort of stable identity, thus they decided that THAT exactly should be our identity. It’s like having your motto as, “I wish I had a motto.”
Basically, they told me to love Singapore. Why? Well, because of all the meepok, East Coast Park, clean and green environment and all the CHAR KWAY TEOW! The way they assume that such shallow and superficial reasons would sway my decision as to love or hate Singapore really disgusts and horrifies me.
If some kid walks up to me one day and tells me that the reason behind his love for Singapore is the damn meepok, I think Singapore will really be spiritually doomed, or maybe doomed to drown in a black hole of stupidity, but by then, Singapore’s economy will probably be bringing in the riches.
Our society increasingly thrives on stupidity after all, following whatever we’re told.
So it won’t matter if the whole of Singapore is merely doing the work because of the meepok, as long as our society’s thriving, who gives a shit right?
Sure, when we were in New Zealand and stuffing our faces with sandwiches and burgers all week, we began to miss Char Kway Teow a lot.
But should that be the reason why I love Singapore? I’m only missing the Char Kway Teow after all. If I could get Char Kway Teow in New Zealand, I wouldn’t have mind living there forever. Good lord.
I’d rather live in somewhere where it’s dirty, deprived from Char Kway Teow and East Coast Park but isn’t leaning towards Socialism and isn’t on the verge of evolving into some utopian society. Let’s all migrate to New Zealand [it's pretty clean over there too!]
Argh I’m digressing.
Back to teachers.
They’re doing all this crap to protect us from the law, or so they claim.
Can’t they realise that with every step taken forward economically, we’re stepping one step backwards spiritually?
We just have to stop being so damn anal. Their excuse of arresting those men for blogging racist comments is the 1964 racial riots. This is 2006, and I’m sure with all the racial harmony themes they throw at us for the past 41 years, we’re not going to reanact another riot. But fine, whatever.
Only fools will follow the herd and allow an impersonal entity to dictate to them.
So my complaints about teachers will not stop. Losers.
I guess it’s not mystery as to why Singapore is placed only one rank below the Middle East for freedom of speech.