Where did YOU come from?

For once I'm actually posting midweek rather than rushing it at midnight on Sunday. Relax! There's no need to panic, I haven't been abducted by extra terrestrials and replaced with a hardworking non-procrastinating bubbly schoolgirl. Oh gosh, she sounds terrible! Alright, now that we've established that my abominable character is still safely intact, let's move on to more interesting topics. Such as the banning of Peter Mayle's controversial' book "Where did I come form?" Seriously, people, it's extremely ridiculous. No one is forcing the public to buy the book and if parents feel as if it's denting their moral values-whatever that means-there's a simple solution. Be discerning and just don't buy the book! There's really no need to ban it. It's just sex education and it's something that the public will actually benefit from. Mind you, I'm not merely saying that because I'm a teenager with raging hormones. There's got to be a reason why baby dumping is becoming a lifestyle here equivalent to eating nasi lemak. Stop playing moral police and inform the public that babies do not come from storks. Oh, lest I forget, we won the drama competition. And pn M, sorry if you're offended,I just had to get it off my chest

Notes of a drama

Although I wouldn't claim to have contributed much to the drama, I'd like to think that I wasn't completely and utterly useless. Well, don't we all? Convincing ourselves that we are more important than we really are? Anyhow, I would say we started our drama earlier than other classes. Hence, I'm sure you can imagine the humiliation if we failed to win. I mean, what excuse can you give? Not enough time? Now that would be pretty ironic..or a big fat lie. Well, the only part I could say I contributed in was the scriptwriting segment. Some ideas, editing and other menial duties. The idea was quite cute, I suppose. You know, with the superhero and the villian... The actual script was done mainly by sze yuin and to whoever that disliked the script, how easy do you think it is to write a script? Not naming names here but a play about four 'cool' guys and their stupid janitor is NOT a worthy play. Alright, I really have to stop ranting here. It's terribly unhealthy on my fragile state of mind. So after the script was done and edited countless times-I swear, the final product looked practically unrecognizable-practice commenced. And wow, was there drama. More pre drama than the actual drama, in my humble opinion. Well, with such strong personalities running the show, what do you expect? What CAN you expect? I mean, certainly everyone has a different interpretation of the play and that's where the problem arises. It's funny though because there, the class is split into 3 camps; the ones that are overtly passionate about the drama, the ones that don't care if there was or wasn't a drama and of course, my personal favorite, the ones that didn't even know the drama existed. Sometimes, our class makes good fodder for comedy but somehow, by nook or by crook, the drama managed to get done and the cast and crew did their best. Of course, not everyone takes it seriously and there will be some obnoxious presence lurking around on stage. From a more subjective point of view, I don't think we performed as fantastically as a couple of other classes (feel free to throw stones at me now) but I guess the important thing is not whether we emerge victorious or not. We had fun, there were some conflicts...gosh, we sound like a replica of any typical Chinese family. Loud, rambunctious and feisty but we care. We care.

February week 3

Well now, hello sirs! A very good morning and blah blah..yeah, I bored myself with such formal greetings. Is it even possible to be so utterly dull that that you are actually capable of boring yourself? I wonder... Anyhoo, I haven't been up to much the past week, in case you were wondering but you probably didn't because i'm quite certain no one spends their time pondering about someone else's life. Call me a cynic but everyone's self-centered that way. Oh gosh, you might be reading this while remarking to yourself "how dreadful" or something along those lines. The truth is, people feign selflessness because they can't handle their own egotism. And this is coming from an egotist, just so you know. But I digress, back to the original topic of my incredibly mundane life, I've done basically nothing I would deem as productive the past week. Yes, my ardently devoted readers that seem to be dwindling in numbers, weep for the banality that is my life. Alright, that's enough weeping for now. No one you know has cancer. Though, if you do, I'm terribly sorry. You know, I've inconsiderate tendencies at times. Only at times, mind you. Oh, have I told you that I've reached the conclusion that I now aspire to be a beach bum living on social security. Why a beach bum, you may ask? Being a lackadaisical hobo does have its perks. For one, it rolls off the tongue beautifully; much nicer than say, a lawyer or a doctor. Oh well, that's all for now. Tune in next week to find out if my dreams of becoming a good for nothing materializes! Till we cyber-meet again, folks..

Entry for February Week 2

Hola, my only 2 followers! This is actually the one blog that i bother updating on a regular basis, maybe because it's compulsory. While this blog has been 'flourishing', my other blog has been left to wither and die a slow painful viral death. A moment's silence, please, to mourn it's untimely passing. Now, on to less morbid topics, one of my favourite bands; The Pains of Being Pure at Heart are coming to malaysia for a gig and the best part? Earlybird tickets only cost RM98 per pop. How often do you get to watch an international band for less than a hundered? There are all those horrible bands that come to Malaysia and lip synch throughout the concert and you have to pay an exorbitantly high price to watch them parade around to music that they did not write themselves. Ricidulous, I tell you! You know what? I really shouldn't rant here because I think it's supposed to be daily reflections and all the deep thoughts instead of such superficial issues but really, I'm not Plato or Socrates. Here I go, ranting again. Although, it is strange as I've never really thought of myself as a "ranter" or anything remotely close to it but you surprise yourself sometimes. Well, to end my journal entry, i'll attempt to sound vaguely intellectual (Yes, I am that pretentious) by naming some books that I've been diligently reading. First, there's Murakami's "Norwegian Wood". Then, Milan Kundera's "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and oh, lest I forget, my all-time favourite Joyce's "Ulysses" just to remind me how high the standard of Literature is. If you took the trouble to actually read it to the end, just be frank and admit that you think...what? not telling you, bye

Entry for February Week one

Coming back to school and diving straight into routine after a long holiday is more often than not, tiring for both the students and teachers alike. After the languor and the lackadasical lifestyle we revert to during the holidays, it is difficult to automatically switch back into 'hardworking' mode so soon after. Not that I am implying I have one. What with the piles of homework to complete, tution to attend and co-curricular activities to fulfill, we are hardly culpable for feeling fatigued to the bone after Week One of After Holidays. Oh, and I musn't forget the innumerous projects to be completed by the deadline set. (Add maths, I'm looking at you).
Though, all in all, it really isn't all that terrible. We get so preoccupied by all the stressful times that we forget the small but incredibly satisfying times. The laughs, the jokes and all that jazz are put aside in the shelves of our minds while the lethargy and stress are put in display on our memory. Why put yourself through such torture? So I say, take a breather and relax for a moment. Then maybe you just might survive another week.

Article for "Night Without End"

When I undertook the task of tailing the Marines, I would have never thought that this particular mission would be such an eventful one. Although our vision was slightly obscured by the blinding, driving snow and our hearing blocked by the rising winds, I still managed to maintain a sense of the happenings on that glacier. As we trudged through across the glacier, braving the icy cold wind that bit at us from every corner, I could catch a few voices shouting above the sharp whistling of the wind but unfortunately I could barely make out what they were saying. However, I was able to sense that they did not sound too pleased with one another. The Marines that were moving towards the group of people were moving with stealth for fear of alerting the opposition to our presence. The air was so thick with suspense and tension that I could cut it with a knife. The Marines were armed with high-tech powerful guns designed specially to kill in a single fatal blow while a six or seven men that had alighted from a fishing boat were approaching the group as well. As we drew closer, I saw that a man had taken hold of a girl by pointing his gun at her and holding her hostage.
For a moment, I was confused by my surroundings. Although I knew that the Marines' mission was to stop a wretched businessman from illegally stealing Government property and to retrieve that particular object, I knew of nothing else as it was supposed to be highly-classified information that only the Marines were privy to. Suddenly, out of nowhere, our approaching foes had sighted us and were trying to get the man with the gun's attention to let him know we were here. Unfortunately, he heard them and turned to see that we were gaining on them. His entire gait took a 360 degree turn and he been gesturing wildly with his hands like a madman while shouting furiously at the man opposite him. Furiously, the panic-stricken man pushed the girl away and jumped into the driving cabin of the tractor. The other man tried to foil his getaway but was shot on the arm as the villian fired up the tractor and drove away.
We watched with horror and shock as the two men attempted to chase the gargantuan tractor as it spun wildly in circles. It was evident that the tractor wa now gravely out of control. It then started sliding backwards, approaching some huge rocks with alarming speed. Before we could react, it hit an ice-hill, spun around uncontrobally and crashed straight into one of the biggest rocks. The passengers then lost their footing and fell into the deep crevasse. The teo men that were chasing the tractor threw themselves down onto the ice as the planes above were firing shots at the enemies. Further down, we caught sight of two men running back to their fishing boat to take shelter.

Different strokes for different folks

As I sat silently on the rickety and frankly, unstable old chair in a tippy boat in the heart of Tonle Sap lake, it was not a sense of fascination or peace that I felt. Surrounded by poverty stricken huts that reminisce the inhuman Pol Pot era and mothers offering their infant children to tourists for a mere dollar, who could take in the sights wont of all care or worries? The times we fret about seemingly significant matters now pale into insignificance when compared to the troubled lives that these slum ravaged youths have to live. Here, it is as if I was transported to a completely different world that was alien to my culture. In fact, I bet top dollar that I would've felt more at home in the states or any other western country rather than my southeast Asian comrades. And it is this disparity that makes me question about the obscurity of life and what it brings.

Next on the itinerary was the majestic and ethereal Angkor Wat that boasts of astounding architectural miracles and stunning design detail. The view from the summit of Angkor Wat was so amazingly breathtaking that it actually made the trudge through the treacharous heat worthwhile. As I stood on one of the ancient seven wonders of the world, the feeling was so surreal that I could hardly believe it myself. To think that approximately thousand years ago, man was 'uncivilized' in a sense of the word, yet managed to build an engineering wonder out of bricks and sheer manpower. I'd like to say I felt even a tiny bit spiritually enlightened surrounded by the buddha motifs and long forgotten Hindu-Buddha culture but I didn't. Sure, it felt that time just slowed itself down for me for those few special moments but to gain a deeper sense of religious understanding? I highly doubt it but of course it's all a matter of personal beliefs and perception. What I took back with me from Cambodia was not a sore throat from the dryness in the air or the myraid of souvenirs from the Old Market or even the nightlife experience at vibrant Pub Street, rather I bore witness to the impoverished underbelly of Cambodia;brimming underneath it's lucrative tourist trade. From the Khmer Rouge era to it's current slum situation, this war torn country showed me things some people take a hundred years to learn. As iconic musician John Lennon says "Happiness is a warm gun."