The Catechism on War

Taken from Catholic Answers, www.catholic.com

2307 The fifth commandment forbids the intentional destruction of human life. Because of the evils and injustices that accompany all war, the Church insistently urges everyone to prayer and to action so that the divine Goodness may free us from the ancient bondage of war.

2308 All citizens and all governments are obliged to work for the avoidance of war.However, "as long as the danger of war persists and there is no international authority with the necessary competence and power, governments cannot be denied the right of lawful self-defense, once all peace efforts have failed" (Gaudium et Spes 79).

2309 The strict conditions for legitimate defense by military force require rigorous consideration. The gravity of such a decision makes it subject to rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy. At one and the same time:
- the damage inflicted by the aggressor on the nation or community of nations must be lasting,
grave, and certain;
- all other means of putting an end to it must have been shown to be impractical or ineffective;
there must be serious prospects of success;
- the use of arms must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated.

The power of modern means of destruction weighs very heavily in evaluating this condition.These are the traditional elements enumerated in what is called the "just war" doctrine.The evaluation of these conditions for moral legitimacy belongs to the prudential judgment of those who have responsibility for the common good.

2310 Public authorities, in this case, have the right and duty to impose on citizens the obligations necessary for national defense.Those who are sworn to serve their country in the armed forces are servants of the security and freedom of nations. If they carry out their duty honorably, they truly contribute to the common good of the nation and the maintenance of peace.

2311 Public authorities should make equitable provision for those who for reasons of conscience refuse to bear arms; these are nonetheless obliged to serve the human community in some other way.

2312 The Church and human reason both assert the permanent validity of the moral law during armed conflict. "The mere fact that war has regrettably broken out does not mean that everything becomes licit between the warring parties" (GS 79).

2313 Non-combatants, wounded soldiers, and prisoners must be respected and treated humanely.Actions deliberately contrary to the law of nations and to its universal principles are crimes, as are the orders that command such actions. Blind obedience does not suffice to excuse those who carry them out. Thus the extermination of a people, nation, or ethnic minority must be condemned as a mortal sin. One is morally bound to resist orders that command genocide.

2314 "Every act of war directed to the indiscriminate destruction of whole cities or vast areas with their inhabitants is a crime against God and man, which merits firm and unequivocal condemnation" (GS 80).

A danger of modern warfare is that it provides the opportunity to those who possess modern scientific weapons—especially atomic, biological, or chemical weapons—to commit such crimes.

2315 The accumulation of arms strikes many as a paradoxically suitable way of deterring potential adversaries from war. They see it as the most effective means of ensuring peace among nations. This method of deterrence gives rise to strong moral reservations. The arms race does not ensure peace. Far from eliminating the causes of war, it risks aggravating them. Spending enormous sums to produce ever new types of weapons impedes efforts to aid needy populations; it thwarts the development of peoples. Over-armament multiplies reasons for conflict and increases the danger of escalation.

2316 The production and the sale of arms affect the common good of nations and of the international community. Hence public authorities have the right and duty to regulate them. The short-term pursuit of private or collective interests cannot legitimate undertakings that promote violence and conflict among nations and compromise the international juridical order.

2317 Injustice, excessive economic or social inequalities, envy, distrust, and pride raging among men and nations constantly threaten peace and cause wars. Everything done to overcome these disorders contributes to building up peace and avoiding war: "Insofar as men are sinners, the threat of war hangs over them and will so continue until Christ comes again; but insofar as they can vanquish sin by coming together in charity, violence itself will be vanquished and these words will be fulfilled: ‘They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more’" (GS 78; cf. Is. 2:4].

An interesting counter to the total pacificism advocated by Father Zabelka. Again, I'll comment later.

An extract from a speech by Father George Zabelka, at a Pax Christi Conference in August 1984, on the 40th Anniversary of the Hiroshima bombings

From the New Sunday Times, August 7 2005
"I worked with Martin Luther King Jr during the Civil Rights struggle in Flint, Michigan.

His example and his words of non-violent action, choosing love instead of hate, truth instead of lies, and non-violence instead of violence stirred me deeply.

This brought me face to face with pacifism - active nonviolent resistance to evil.

I recall his words after he was jailed in Montgomery, and this blew my mind.

He said: "Blood may flow in the streets of Montgomery before we gain our freedom, but it must be our blood that flows, and not that of the white man. We must not harm a single hair on the head of our white brothers."

I struggled. I argued. But yes, there it was in the Sermon on the Mount, very clear: "Love your enemies. Return good for evil."

I went through a crisis of faith. Either accept what Christ said, as unpassable and silly as it may seem, or deny him completely.

...

Ethical hairsplitting over the morality of various types of instruments and structures of mass slaughter is not what the world needs from the Church, although it is what the world has come to expect from the followers of Christ.

What the world needs is a grouping of Christians that will stand up and pay up with Jesus Christ.

What the world needs is Christians who, in language that the simplest soul can understand, will proclaim: the follower of Christ cannot participate in mass slaughter. He or she must love as Christ loved, live as Christ lived and, if necessary, die as Christ died, loving one's enemies.

...

As a Catholic chaplain I watched as the Boxcar, piloted by a good Irish Catholic, dropped the bomb on Urakami Cathedral in Nagasaki, the centre of Catholicism in Japan.

I knew that St. Francis Xavier, centuries before, had brought the Catholic faith to Japan. I knew that schools, churches, and religious orders were annihilated. Yet I said nothing.

Thank God that today I'm able to speak out against war, all war. The prophets of the Old Testament spoke out against all false gods of gold, silver and metal.

Today we are worshipping the gods of metal, the bomb. We are putting our trust in physical power, militarism, and nationalism. The bomb, not God, is our security and our strength.

The prophets of the Old Testament said simply: Do not put your trust in chariots and weapons, but put your trust in God. Their message was simple, and so is mine.

We must all do something for peace. We must stop this insanity of worshipping the gods of metal. We must take a stand against evil and idolatory. This is our destiny at the most critical time of human history.

But it's also the greatest opportunity ever offered to any group of people in the history of our world - to save our world from complete annihilation."

This, obviously, isn't the whole speech. It isn't even the whole of what was printed in the New Straits Times (which my dad brought back from KL). But he did bring up lots of points of interest. Like pacificism.

Unfortunately, i've got to go now. So i'll come back to this later. Ciaoz peeps.

I don't know how to start this, because I don't know how it will end. What I do know is that things have gotten messy in between, and maybe it's my fault. In fact, it probably is, because the choices I've made are all my own. So I suppose the resulting recriminations are just that. Resulting.

Is it gone forever? What I know is that it'll never be the same.

The last shot, then maybe I'll know if it is time, finally (and as I knew, inevitably), to draw away. Maybe I do have a problem. But maybe I don't. I'm going, but I don't know how I'll feel - which is probably the worst part of it all. I hate this.

And you know, the next time you want to make racist jokes, bear in mind who you're with. Stereotypes may be fine, especially around friends who take it all with a pinch of salt. But calling some races dirty, and shuddering at the mention of a mixed relationship, is never acceptable. Maybe you forgot who, or what I am. And to you, who didn't make the joke, but laughed abashedly, as if you were afraid that if you didn't laugh, you would be laughed at, now I know your true colours. Do you know why I left when I did? Because it wasn't funny anymore. And because it hurt.

Yesterday I attended a beautiful wedding in kl. My mum's flowergirl was getting married. She's Indian, like most of my mum's side of the family - and the groom was Japanese. Remember that the next time you want to make or participate in a racial slur. I'm a product of mixed marriages. If you think we are "tainted", to use your word, then maybe you should stop hanging out with me. Or at least stop pretending to be my friend. Don't give me rubbish about liking me for the person I am, not the race I am - my race is part of who I am, and if you can't accept that, then well, I'm sorry for you. I have gotten past the stage, thankfully, where being called a mongrel to my face results in me dissolving into tears. I will never cry in front of you, or because of you, because your words don't mean anything to me.

The thing about the truth is, it's hardly ever what you want it to be.

Scar

He left a card, a bar of soap and a scrubbing brush next to a note which said

"use these down to your bones"

And before I knew that I had shiny skin, it felt easy being clean like him

and I thought"this one knows better than I do"

A triangle trying to squeeze into a circle

He tried to cut me so I'd fit

And doesn't that sound familiar?

Doesn't that hit too close to home?

Doesn't that make you shiver; the way things could have gone?

And doesn't it feel peculiar when everyone wants a little more?

And so that I do remember to never go that far;

Could you leave me with a scar?

So the next one came with a bag of treats;

She smelt like sugar and spoke like the sea

And she told me, don't trust them, trust me

Then she pulled at my stitches one by one

Looking at my insides clicking her tongue

and then she said"this will all have to come undone"

A triangle trying to fit into a circle

She tried to cut me so I'd fit

And doesn't that sound familiar?

Doesn't that hit too close to home?

Doesn't that make you shiver, the way things could have gone?

And doesn't it feel peculiar, when everyone wants a little more?

And so that I do remember to never go that far

Could you leave me with a scar?

I think I realized just in time,

although my old self was so hard to find

You bathe me in your finest wine,

but I won't give you mine

'Cos I'm a little bit tired of feeling

like I'll be the bad fruit that nobody buys

Tell me, did you think that we'd all dream the same?

And doesn't that sound familiar?

Doesn't that hit too close to home?

Doesn't that make you shiver, the way things could have gone?

Doesn't that feel peculiar, when everyone wants a little more?

And so that I do remember to never go that far

Could you leave me with a scar?

I do. Have scars. But for some inane reason I keep forgetting to look at them. Thanks for nothing.

Raffles Institution


The School That Suited You Most!
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Rofl. I don't know if I should be amused or insulted. Probably a little of both. Argh. I hate exams.

Blogging hiatus: 2 days

Time to read: Priceless

I am rediscovering the joys of reading, thanks to a Humanities day stint which required me to fish for books I loved, and passages I would love others to hear. My first choice was the first chapter of Pride and Prejudice:

On second thoughts, it's way too long to type out here, and I'm not sure if I'll be infringing copyrights.

The day before the event though, I found out that I couldn't do Pride and Prejudice because someone else had chosen it first, (and had chosen the exact same chapter too, as I discovered eventually) and so I had to choose something else. After exactly 4 minutes of brain storming, I remembered my pre-Austen all time favourite: The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint Exupery. I love the whole book, but as I had only about 4 minutes for my passage, I chose this one:

On the fifth day - again, as always, it was thanks to the sheep - the secret of the little prince's life was revealed to me. Abruptly, without anything to lead up to it, and as if the question had been born of long and silent meditation on his problem, he demanded:

"A sheep - if it eats little bushes, does it eat flowers, too?"
"A sheep," I answered, "eats anything it finds in its reach."
"Even flowers that have thorns?"
"Yes, even flowers that have thorns."
"Then the thorns - what use are they?"

I did not know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that had got stuck in my engine. I was very much worried, for it was becoming clear to me that the breakdown of my plane was extremely serious. And I had so little drinking-water left that I had to fear the worst.

"The thorns - what use are they?"

The little prince never let go of a question, once he had asked it. As for me, I was upset over that bolt. And I answered with the first thing that came into my head:

"The thorns are of no use at all. Flowers have thorns just for spite!"
"Oh!"

There was a moment of complete silence. Then the little prince flashed back at me, with a kind of resentfulness:

"I don't believe you! Flowers are weak creatures. They are naiive. They reassure themselves as best they can. They believe that their thorns are terrible weapons..."

I did not answer. At that instant I was saying to myself: "If this bolt still won't turn, I am going to knock it out with the hammer." Again the little prince disturbed my thoughts:

"And you actually believe that the flowers - "
"Oh, no!" I cried. "No, no, no! I don't believe anything. I answered you with the first thing that came into my head. Don't you see - I am very busy with matters of consequence!"

He stared at me, thunderstruck.

"Matters of consequence!"

He looked at me there, with my hammer in my hand, my fingers black with engine-grease, bending down over an object which seemed to him extremely ugly...

"You talk just like the grown-ups!"

That made me a little ashamed. But he went on, relentlessly:

"You mix everything up together...You confuse everything..."

He was really very angry. He tossed his golden curls in the breeze.

"I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower. He has never looked at a star. He has never loved any one. He has never done anything in his life but add up figures. And all day he says over and over, just like you: 'I am busy with matters of consequence!' And that makes him swell up with pride. But he is not a man - he is a mushroom!"
"A what?"
"A mushroom!"

The little prince was now white with rage.

"The flowers have been growing thorns for millions of years. For millions of years the sheep have been eating them just the same. And is it not a matter of consequence to try to understand why the flowers go to so much trouble to grow thorns which are never of any use to them? Is the warfare between the sheep and the flowers not important? Is this not of more consequence than a fat red-faced gentleman's sums? And if I know - I, myself - one flower which is unique in the world, which grows nowhere but on my planet, but which one little sheep can destroy in a single bite some morning, without even noticing what he is doing - Oh! You think that is not important!"

His face turned from white to red as he continued:

"If some one loves a flower, of which just one single blossom grows in all the millions and millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy just to look at the stars. He can say to himself: 'Somewhere, my flower is there...' But if the sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened...And you think that is not important!"

He could not say anything more. His words were choked by sobbing.

The night had fallen. I had let my tools drop from my hands. Of what moment now was my hammer, my bolt, or thirst, or death? On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth, there was a little prince to be comforted. I took him in my arms, and rocked him. I said to him:

"The flower that you love is not in danger. I will draw you a muzzle for your sheep. I will draw you a railing to put around your flower. I will - "

I did not know what to say to him. I felt awkward and blundering. I did not know how I could reach him, where I could overtake him and go on hand in hand with him once more.

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

And, on a related note, it is such a lonely place, the land of fears. (Back to me. Reality calls.)

Fears of falling: out of track. out of mind. in love. apart.
Fears of needing: comfort. people. more than what i have.
Fears of feeling: out of control. powerless. alone. needy.

Powerless-ness. I think most of us fear that. A situation where you can't do anything about anything. Yet somehow, it could be a liberating situation. One in which you have no choice but to put it all in His hands. And then you realise that it's been there all along. And then you are free.

In (predominantly wishful) anticipation of not blogging for a while, I've left several links below my Previous Posts sections. Probably worth checking them out. :)

And this is probably one of the most sublimally beautiful tragic love scenes in the history of literature:

They were strangers who had met in a chance encounter.
They had known each other before Life began.

There is very little that anyone could say to clarify what happened next. Nothing that (in Mammachi's book) would seperate Sex from Love. Or Needs from Feelings.

Except perhaps that no Watcher watched through Rahel's eyes. No one stared out of a window at the sea. Or a boat in the river. Or a passer-by in the mist in a hat.

Except perhaps that it was a little cold. A little wet. But very quiet. The Air.

But what was there to say?

Only that there were tears. Only that Quietness and Emptiness fitted together like stacked spoons. Only that there was a snuffling in the hollows at the base of a lovely throat. Only that a honey-coloured shoulder had a semi-circle of teethmarks on it. Only that they held each other close, long after it was over. Only that what they shared that night was not happiness, but hideous grief.

Only that once again they broke the Love Laws. That lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much.

Yet another excerpt from "The God of Small Things". Honestly, reading this book reminds me again and again why I love lit, and why I'll never regret doing an extra year for it. I would copy out the scene between Ammu and Velutha and the end of the novel, except that I suspect that would be a spoiler (as yet, those who havnt read the book wouldn't know who this particular scene is between). Also, I might horrify certain readers with the blatant eroticism and sexuality of an A-level text. Not that I'm complaining mind you. It's about time people stop seeing sex as dirty, or just plain fun, but as something beautiful. (As a pointed aside, the Catholic Church doesn't view sex as dirty. Sex, as an act of love (and thus pro-creation) is beautiful - as is sexuality.)

Right. Back to Ayemenem then.

Attn all guys: This is NOT sweet

Girl: Do I ever cross your mind?
Boy: No
Girl: Do you like me?
Boy: Not really
Girl: Do you want me?
Boy: No
Girl: Would you cry if I left?
Boy: No
Girl: Would you live for me?
Boy: No
Girl: Would you do anything for me?
Boy: No way
Girl: What would you choose: your life..orme?
Boy: My life

The girl runs away in shock and pain and the boy runs after her and says...

The reason you never cross my mind is because you're always on my mind.
The reason why I don't like you is because I love you.
The reason I don't want you is because I need you.
The reason I wouldn't cry if you left is because I would die if you left.
The reason I wouldn't live for you is because I would die for you.
The reason why I'm not willing to do anything for you is because I would do everything for you.
The reason I chose my life is because you ARE my life.

Now, once and for all, let me make this clear. When a girl asks a guy if he likes her, it is NOT the time to be smart alec-y. SO not the time. The whole rubbish about the 'real' reasons sound more to me like polished attempts at reversing a break-up scenario. Not funny, not very smart. Feelings are not oratorical competitions you nitwits.

Right. All in the world is right again. I can't BELIEVE someone sent me that with the heading: so sweeeeeeeet. I'll like to see the girl in the scenario say the same. Sheesh.

On to more serious stuff. This is one of the most heart-rending passages I've ever read:

This was the stuff their dreams were made of. On the day that Estha was Returned. Chalk. Blackboards. Proper punishments.

They didn't ask to be let off lightly. They only asked for punishments that fitted their crimes. Not ones that came like cupboards with built-in bedrooms. Not ones you spent your whole life in, wandering through its maze of shelves.

Without warning the train began to move. Very slowly.

Estha's pupils dilated. His nails dug into Ammu's hand as she walked along the platform. Her walk turning into a run as the Madras Mail picked up speed.

Godbless, my baby. My sweetheart. I'll come for you soon!

'Ammu!' Estha said as she disengaged her hand. Prising loose small finger after finger. 'Ammu! Feeling vomity!' Estha's voice lifted into a wail.

Little Elvis the Pelvis with a spoiled, special-outing puff. And beige and pointy shoes. He left his voice behind.

On the station platform Rahel doubled over and screamed and screamed.

The train pulled out. The light pulled in.

Excerpt from "The God of Small Things", by Arundhati Roy

Really, really beautiful book. Word after word, line after line, passage after passage, page after page of heartbreak. So that you never want to read it again. But you do (and not just because I'm studying it for paper 5, although that IS a pretty good reason), simply because of the sheer beauty of her words, and the compulsive-ness of the story. If you've never read it, go and read it now. And if you've read it, go and read it again.

In this book I've discovered the most beautiful, and also most heart-rending word: Naaley. Tomorrow.

Back to the Grind

I suppose I should have been prepared for the realisation that nothing is ever over until it really is truly over.

Nobody would have understood that, don't beat yourself up over it.

Well my results were less than satisfactory, for me at least. I've got a long way to go to the results I'm aiming for for both the prelims and the blasted As. Still, it's a shorter way than what it was a month ago, and for that I'm thankful.

I love the ache my body feels after a good swim/run/climb/workout. When I arch my back there's this nice, stretched feeling that runs all the way from the base of my neck to my tailbone. Yes, I know it's called a spine.

Tailbone. A vestige of the tails of a Darwinian ancestor? Although I don't believe in his theory of evolution, there are amazing similarities between our monkey friends and us. Not the least being the incessant chattering one is surrounded with in a predominantly girl class ;)

I love my class. eunice azzah sy dora jac max wilson mos houston libby jinx wulan grass gardine camy janice eunice abel liying persis mel tania yintong. see what i mean by predominantly girl? But they're darlings, all of them. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes they're brats. *grinz*

On a more sober note: God bless the souls of all who died in the London subway attack. And the souls of those who died and are dying all around the world. With all due respect, it irks me when only terrorist attacks on major (read: developed and rich) countries get major press attention. Did anybody notice the running thingy at the bottom of the tv on CNN last night? There are tragedies everywhere, manmade and natural. Of course it angers people that people kill people - but really by our every action (and non-action), we kill people too. When's the last time the Straits Times published a headcount of the people (Iraqis, not American) killed in Iraq? Why is it we only get updates on American casualties? How come a land that was supposed to be 'freed' is still under occupation? I have no sympathy for violent Muslim extremists. I don't even have sympathy for violent 'Christian' extremists. I say 'Christian' because Christianity is a religion of peace. A violent Christian is an oxymoron. I do however, have much empathy for the thousands of people who suffer because of them.

On a related note: When I heard about the blasts last night, I messaged a couple of friends telling them about it. One of them replied: "Do you think my people did it?" I said: "Your people? Like who?" And the next message was: "You know. My muslim brothers who get labelled as terrorists." I told him people who kill innocent people are nobody's brothers, changed the subject, and we let it go at that. Maybe he was kidding around. Maybe not. But it begs the question - if something like this happens here, in Singapore - how many of us will still hold 'my people' to be Singaporeans, and how many will switch 'my people' to being those who hold the same religious beliefs as we do? Will friend turn against friend, brother against brother (because I know of families with different religions), mother against child? Or will we stand together, back against the wall, banded against the attacker who no longer is part of 'my people', but the enemy? I hope I know the answer, but sadly, I don't quite know for sure. Maybe we wouldn't physically attack each other. But we may just turn away - and somehow, that will be so much more damaging for a society that is just only begin to turn towards.

Well, it's back to the pseudo-reality of mugging, sighing, mugging and mugging again for me. I'm so glad I'm not prone to hormonal crushes on vampires and stationary. Not to mention ingredients in fish-head curry and tools of tictactoe. I can do without anguishing over semi-developed beings with heads so big they need to wear helmets for 2 years to keep them from imploding due to excess space on the inside. (I'm on a roll here, aren't I.) Thus free from alpha chimp-induced trauma, I WILL get those grades I need. And when those grades are done, (or, occasionally, in-between), I would probably enjoy a bit of alpha chimp attention. Till then though, I'm content with my court jesters. *grinz*

Till next time.

Let's talk about Sex

Got your attention, didn't I? This got my attention too:
It can be fun, dangerous, a total high and despite the fact that it can also break your heart, more and more women are doing it. It's that uninvolved liaison with a guy you go to bed with, but aren't committed to. Your one night stand.

Pops up on the MSN Today window every time I sign on to MSN. Well, no. Not the same article, but similar ones. Before I offer my opinion though, let's take a look at what the article is, or is not about.

"It wasn't always this way - even a generation ago, casual sex was relatively unknown for women. Men could sleep around and be regarded as 'sowing their wild oats' without a hint of criticism. But a woman who had casual sex was, and often still is, more likely to be labelled a 'slag' and seen as 'unnatural'."

Hmm. I notice a slight bias in the tone here.

"Casual sex is now more acceptable than it was because nowadays women have the freedom and opportunity for uninvolved lovemaking; we meet men through work, through friends or even through the Internet. We also have easy access to contraception and protection, making it far safer to have sex with no nasty repercussions."

Ah. Nasty repercussions like getting pregnant? I see. Funny. I thought getting pregnant was something of a miracle. Y'know. Gift from God.

"...in a survey in the States commissioned by the Oprah Winfrey Show, 50 per cent of respondents said that casual sex was worth it. They thought it exciting, enjoyable - and a statement of their sexual identity, a reflection of the fact that as a 21st century woman, they wanted to be free to have sex when and with whom they wanted."

So, if I am to be a 21st century woman, I should want to be free to have sex when and with whom I wanted? Oh dear.

"So that's the good news. Sadly, here's the bad. The other 50 per cent of Oprah respondents thought that casual sex wasn't worth it - and 80 per cent of them have had regrets. It isn't the morality, it isn't even a feeling of shame. The main reason that casual sex may not deliver is that we often want more than just the instant hit it offers - and even if we didn't want more when we started, we do when we finish."

Yes, that is bad news. 'That' being the fact that women didn't want to have casual sex not because of morality or a feeling of shame, but merely because it doesn't 'deliver' the way we want it to.

Admittedly, this is an msn article, and so is not a reflection of the singaporean woman the way a Today article, for example, would. But it is a reflection of the way more and more people are thinking. Or at least it would seem so, wouldn't it? The way this article is written, one would think almost everybody was dying for casual sex, and just cant figure out why it isn't 'delivering' for them. Which of course, in this world of almost negligible moral authority, is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Tell everyone that everyone, deep down inside, wants to have a fling with the guy down the street, and everyone would probably belive, and eventually end up wanting it. Of course, I'm making gross generalisations. But this article really did annoy me. And before you accuse me of being narrow-minded and conservative, read the rest of the article here. And then let me state, for the record, that I am conservative, so accusing me as such wouldn't hurt much; I am not, I hope, too narrow-minded - but I do like having my own stand.

Sex is not something to be ashamed of; neither is sexuality - both are gifts from God. But sex isn't, and cannot, be casual. Even the article admits that "physiologically, sex creates a flood of hormones that naturally create a bond. Oxytocin (the same hormone that women release while breastfeeding) makes us feel close to a partner and dopamine makes us feel content in his company, both of which are released during sex." Does that sound like something casual to you? Sex is the ultimate, but not the only, act of making love between a husband and wife; it forms a bond probably nothing else can. Is that really something we want to do with every other male within a 500m radius?

I know for a fact that many girls don't take casual sex lightly. That most would wait for marriage before doing anything. Why then do we let the rest of the world have their, and only their opinion heard?

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against people involved in casual sex. I do, however, have something against the people and institutions which make these people believe that casual sex in not only alright, but to be desired - if we are confident enough. That's like saying...you don't wanna have casual sex? Aww...it's ok darling. You'll like it soon enough - it's just a matter of getting used to it. Don't worry, nobody will blame you...yet. Wait. That is what they're saying.

If ever articles like this make it to the mainstream newspaper (mainstream being stuff I read ;) like Today, Streats, TNP and Straits Times), I'm writing in. Morality isn't a disease.

I've got anger management issues.

14 pounds.

6 days.

3 years.

24 hours.

It's all about the numbers.

I am a...

cuddle and a kiss on the forehead, according to quizilla.

Well I suppose that's better than a footsie, although I really like hugs from behind. Heh.

Anyway. Previous post deleted. All is sunshine and butterflies again. Ooooh and don't forget the strawberries. (B******s not allowed.)

Did quite a lot today, so reasonably pleased with myself. If i keep going at this rate I just might be prepared enough for the JCTs. might. Swimming and running is going good, but I havnt been to the gym yet. Think i'll do that next week - but i dont wanna go aloooooooone. *sulks*

Did you know that it was once law to say "God bless you" when someone sneezed? I need a Vit C.

There's so much more to life than this. No this isn't going to be a whining post. But I sure as hell can't wait for the As to be over, just so that I can be. Just be. And live. Without the guilt of not studying or whatever. Somehow when you lose the status of student, certain boundaries dissolve.

Of course, life after school isnt all it's cut out to be. Everybody says once you're working you really miss schooling. But right now, logic isn't making sense to me. Ever had the feeling of physically wanting to break loose? Yeah. Dangerous feeling. No cause for it either. No immediate cause anyway. It's just a built up tension, resulting in me taking it out on the pool or track. Still not healthy though.

And you know what's really depressing? No matter what, everything's going to remain fake and contrived. Even if i DO get that scholarship. Even if i DO get to where I want to go. It's a short burst of freedom, followed by a stifling by procedures and expectations. There's no where to go but up...but eventually you're gonna hit the ceiling. And wake up with a tremendous headache.

This is, I suppose, where religion and spirituality come in. There at least I know there are unimaginable depths to be explored, and experiences to encounter. There at least I see the authenticity I don't get from mere life. It's a challenge, intellectually and spiritually, to defend what I know to be true. And there at least, but perhaps most importantly, I'm beginning to know true satisfaction.

The Keys to Your Heart

You are attracted to those who are unbridled, untrammeled, and free.

In love, you feel the most alive when things are straight-forward, and you're told that you're loved.

You'd like to your lover to think you are optimistic and happy.

You would be forced to break up with someone who was ruthless, cold-blooded, and sarcastic.

Your ideal relationship is open. Both of you can talk about everything... no secrets.

Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment.

You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred.

In this moment, you think of love as something you don't need. You just feel like flirting around and playing right now.

What Are The Keys To Your Heart?

Substantially accurate. Haha.

Only in Singapore

Seen on the back of a moving van:

Rosak

Spoilt

Pai Liao

Kettu Pochi

Hilarious. Only in Singapore I tell you.

And after several days of soul-searching and pillow-bashing, life is looking up. Cheers everyone.

One Shot

more accurately, the last shot.

I'm tired of the feelings and emotions. The constant swing from high to low. I'm tired of being affected by words and non-words, of anticipation and disappointment. I refuse to be held hostage by my heart. It's been through enough, and I've sure as hell put others through enough. I don't claim any innocence in the situation, but from now on I claim indifference. Insouciance. Distance. Old wounds don't heal, they only crust over.

I'm not depressed. I'm angry. The kind of anger that seethes - productive anger, since it's been channeled into prep for JCTs. And while it is uncomfortable, and probably not very healthy, it's a happier alternative to wistful, wanful lethargy. I'm not about to ruin the one shot I have at gaining control. So if I seem to talk less and mug more, forgive me. Dreams are all that are keeping me afloat right now.

It's a complex spiral. The more I distance myself, the more I crave companionship. But when there's companionship...I crave solitude. More than anything however, I crave the kind of relationship I had with God in Sec. 3. I miss the ability to wake up every morning and smile because I actually felt Him by my side. I miss the ability to turn to Him every few minutes with a random thought or prayer. Of course, the capability is still there. He has never left. I've just never felt so far away from Him - possibly because before this, I've never felt so close.

And I suppose that's the crux of the whole situation.

What you give is yours for good. What you keep is lost forever.

Yesterday I realised that true friendship never changes. Friends may, as people and individuals - but the friendship - the reluctantly loving, teasing, eye-rolling occasionally embarassing relationship, never does. I realised that watching 5 people (who will remain un-named to protect their sanity) trying to tie cherry sticks into knots with their tongues, in a brave attempt to prove that they are great kissers. In an attempt to defend my delayed cherry-tying abilities, I was distracted by a couple of monkeys. AND the fact that my cherry stick kept breaking. You know these epiphanies you have sometimes - when you realise you can do infinitely stupid things in front of a bunch of people in general public, and not only will they not stop you, they'll do it with you. (Which is, in retrospect, not merely not quite a good thing, but also potentially rather dangerous - but nevermind.)

And to think I was afraid things might have changed. Well sure they have - it was quite strange watching my batch mates collect graduating prizes, and listen to the girls talk about work and uni, and still be worrying about the JCTs. The morning wasn't devoid of strange looks and whispered nudges either. But sitting in that row 3 rows from the top of the audi, I realised it didn't matter. Cuz we had, no matter what, been through 2 years together. And people who pretended they didn't know you after that really aren't worth bothering about. Besides, it's stimuli to be back next year. Collecting a Best in Something and a 3As award. That would be nice.

I can't wait to be free of all this. This constant pressure to prove myself, to prove that I didn't stay back for nothing after all. To prove that my decision was the right one. And that it was also my best one. The pressure to perform I know I'll always have, because the pressure's coming from me. I need to do well, because otherwise I don't see a point in doing anything at all. (This does not make me anal retentive Libby. I would still do things for fun, but only the fun things. Mugging for As is not one of them.) It's one of the reasons why I decided to switch combis. A decision I should have made much earlier perhaps - in the first 3 months of Year 1 I already knew I was going to struggle with Chem. But then there was pride - the refusal to admit I couldn't do something I put my mind to. And academics had rarely been a problem. When I failed it in June, I blamed it on the extra time I spent on Music and dropped it. Played around with the idea of switching combis then, but wasn't sure of myself enough to push my case. By the time the Promos came I knew I was in serious trouble, but I thought I was too far gone to be turning back. It took the combination of absymal JCT results, an unsympathetic person who will remain anonymous, several supportive Economics tutors, 2 darling wonderful bloody brilliant best friends who said they'll always be behind me AND a particularly decisive frame of mind to make the decision. I havn't regretted it, and I won't. Ever. Still, it has made the pressure to do well even higher, since now ammunition has been provided to naysayers. I'm gonna make sure that backfires.

How a discussion of cherry sticks turned into a rather boring self-affirmation passage I havn't a clue.

Guitar Concert is next week, and I've still got 2 tickets left to sell. $7 each, Friday night 7.30pm at TJ Audi. If anybody's interested just msg me.

Right. Gonna swim tomorrow. In the meantime, it's back to Sudder Street, Calcutta. Happy Vesak Day.

15 minutes to post

and just about 11 minutes left

There were countless things to blog about, seeing that I havn't blogged in a while, but I won't say too much cuz I've only got about 10minutes left.

It's been hot. HOT. hot hot hot here. I don't know what the temperature is, or maybe it's just me, but it's so stifling. Your eyes just don't feel good, and your head starts throbbing, and you just don't feel like doing anything. Or maybe it's just plain laziness.

As usual, I've done nothing all weekend. Which is really nothing to be guilty about, since that's what the weekends are supposed to be for. Doing nothing. Still, seeing that I do almost nothing on weekdays too, i should probably aim to balance everything out. Probably.

Sunday nights are fun primarily because of 3 things: Kumars at No. 49, Oprah, and Parkinson. All talkshows, and all (usually) hilarious. Kumars because they are just simply so funny, Oprah because she bullies most of her guests into pure submission and Parkinson because it's British humour damnit. And no, I'm no anglophile. Although Cambridge is pretty.

It's interesting when you can be over your head with homework and studying and tests and rehearsals and meetings and stuff, and still be able to suddenly lean back, breathe in and go: Hey. There is so much more to this. And then shake yourself and get back into the daily grind. But you're surviving because you know there is so much more, so nothing quite gets you down. (That doesn't mean you can mess with me. Or my friends. Or whatever I'm doing. Just because I'm beyond getting annoyed doesn't make me above being annoyed. If you get that.)

I still think it's religion that holds everything together though. The ability to get through the week, with all it's annoyances and pitfalls, failures and downright frustrations, and still shrug it off the next day seems to come from the knowledge that there is a higher order, and the more patient I am with this order the closer I get to reaching the next. I havn't quite reached where I want to be, or even where I used to be in terms of closeness to God, but I'm getting there - with a lot of help from a Friend.

It's Pentecost Sunday today - hands up those who know what that is. No? Ah. Well, that's when the Holy Spirit came down on Jesus' disciples in the Upper Room. In the form of tongues of fire - and that's when they stopped being afraid of the Jews, and proclaimed to everyone the Good News, in all the languages of the people there, so that everybody, whichever nation they came from, understood what they were saying. I heard someone saying it's also known as the birthday of the Church, but I'm not quite sure how accurate that is - I'll check and get back to you.

Talking to my friends, it's kinda true that there are generally a lot of misconceptions about the Catholic Church. I know I keep saying I'll start posting about it, and I never do, but I will the next time I blog. Found this site too, that may answer some questions. www.catholic.com Check it out if you're interested, nevermind if you aren't.

As it is, my 15 minutes are up. Next week is gonna be...interesting. Week 9. Bring it on.

It's a dog-eat-dog world out there

Is it really? Do friends really turn on each other, hide things from each other, pull the rug out from under each others' feet? Do people really spitefully manipulate situations, so that they do not merely win, but that you lose? Am I really going to have to be more selfish, more reserved, less trusting, in order to survive?

I guess the answer is yes. As much as I don't like it. And as much as I wish it were different.

I guess I always knew that. As much as I deny it. And as much as I pretend to live in delusion.

I guess I always hoped that I would be wrong. Proven wrong. Without a doubt.

I guess I always knew that wouldn't happen. Never. Ever.

Some things jade you. Scar you. And you ignore them, until someone pours salt on the wound. And while they are at it, insult your stupidity for trusting them. Some things I never want to relive, ever again.

Sometimes the smallest things can become the thorn in the side which causes the stampede. The minutest slip of tongue or memory. The most trivial happening. And once the avalanche begins, there's no stopping it.

Yes, it is competition. And that of the most painful kind. Yet somehow I still believe in that cocoon of friends. And I thank God that at least this comfort I have. Even if that comfort consists of berating, scolding, and nagging, and constant refrains of "grow up."

Even if I don't want to.

Thank God I have friends who tell me what I don't want to hear. And who don't expect me to be anything but me. Even if that me is rather annoying sometimes. =)

And finally. Dear God, please give me the courage to run this race. And the strength not to win by losing. Thank You.

And the countdown begins

The Countdown to the JCTs that is.

For any Yr 1 who happens to read this post, this is for you: Take the first major exam of your JC life very very seriously. Don't believe the seniors who tell you it's ok to fail it, don't bother everybody does. Cuz the truth is, fail this exam, and you lose a lot of opportunities you could have had. Things I wish my seniors had told me.

But it's too late for wishing, so the only option left is acting. There are exactly 45 days left to the very first paper - Lit Paper 4 (Boey Kim Cheng & Thomas Hardy). I have done nothing all weekend, and am thus currently indulging in a guilt-induced ice-cream eating session. Which of course does nothing for my weight-loss campaign. If only I could lose weight just by being stressed. Just check out next week's schedule:

Monday: Hardy Test. Lit S PC due (well, not much, but I'm still working on it. Have been for the last month. Doh.)

Tuesday: AiryFairy MuggerToot Day. Well ok, not stressful. But - ahhhh no buts.

Wednesday: Maths Test. Guitar practice till 5, then fulldress rehearsal with Choir till 8. 8-ish.

Thursday: Meeting at NYC. Fun. But stressful.

Friday: Choir Concert.

You know, looking at it this way, it doesn't seem much. But it feels much. I was looking at my calender of events for May, and the much just overwhelmed me. Maybe I am taking on a little more than I should. Yes zid I don't feel like I'm doing nothing anymore. Heh. That's a good thing. Right? Right.

And having a fixed goal helps I guess. And boy do I have a fixed goal. Fixed as in applications in by 20 Sept fixed. Fixed as in I'm gonna have to ace my JCTs to get a decent referral fixed.

My blog is so self-centered. Sometimes I don't even like myself. If the persona on my blog is the real me, then I'm selfish, goal-orientated, cold, purely ambition-driven, and occasionally psychotically emo. Not a nice me.

I've done nothing. NOTHING. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Life goes on

Alright, time for updates.

Meet the Parents session: Went well, as did my progress report. On my way to what I want whoopee.

Guitar SYF: TJC's the only college to get Gold with Honours this year. *grinz*

Council Campfire: Was nice. Really. Well, the performances left some things to be desired somewhat, but hey it doesn't really matter - I was there for the company anyway. Dhanaaaaaaaaa why didn't you tell us you were coming earlier huh? haha. And Wan Ni love, I'm sorry about your birthday cake, but you did not confirm you were coming. heh. I don't like my curfews. *sulks*

I'm in the middle of a 3-day weekend, and I've only done one essay. There's a myner on the table in front of me with what looks like Junior's puppy biscuit in his mouth. And while we are at random statements, aaron takes more than 36 hrs to reply a msg.

I'm supposed to be participating in some Cambridge online seminar on the 5th, but the person in charge hasn't contacted me about exactly what's gonna happen. Yet. Haiz.

I'm finally done with my "Literature is erotic because it is always concerned with seducing the reader, Discuss." essay. Now I've got "Can men ever write successfully about women or vice versa?" Argh. Not to mention that Econs essay. I love school.

Me: So. What you doin?
Wan Ni: Nothing. :D
Me: That's probably the most annoying respons you could have come up with.
Wan Ni: No, i could have used this smiley (insert evil grinning smiley) or , i could have said something along the line of "i'm so bored! i've got nothing to do!"

Grr. Gonna go be annoyed and do my essays. Adios mon cheries!

(ahh. the beauty of transnational language.)

Live life till it hurts.

Virgo (Aug 23 - Sep 22)
The Bottom Line
You're multi-layered. Show someone a previously hidden side of you.
In Detail
You're the very soul of accommodation. You love to make others happy and you'll offer your services to achieve those ends any time you think you're needed. That's lovely, but you often forget about your own needs in the process. Don't let that happen now. You were recently introduced to someone who could make this a wonderful weekend for you -- if you let them. Allow the rest of the world to take care of itself, just for now.

Gee. Who've I most recently been introduced to? Haha...the secret of horoscopes is to make your fortune-telling so general it could apply to just about anybody - except perhaps a hermit living somewhere on a Tibetian mountain.

I'm gaining momentum - I guess that's a good thing. Maybe ken was right - I need to have distractions in order to focus better. Well, as long as the distractions aren't too distracting. Or long term. Or commitment-demanding. I sound like I'm describing a relationship. Hmph. Well I'm not lah. I hope I don't become one of those people whose lives revolve around the work they do - I want my life to revolve around people. Humanity. Not objects and objectives.

The new mattress for my bed came today. See this is the story: I've been complaining that my bed's slanting to one side for some time now. At first my parents thought it was the mattress, so they switched it with another old one. But it was still slanting, so then they thought it was the bed. And i got a new bed. Still slanting. My dad decides he'll buy a new mattress - one with springs and other high techie stuff. Still slanting. So my mum takes over, tells my dad she told him it was the floor, and rearranges the room. No more slanting. Heh. So now me and my sister have got new mattresses, new pillows, and a new room arrangement. Beautiful.

I've still got loads more hw to go. 2 Lit essays, 1 PC, 1 Econs essay, and tons of mugging. I really really wanna go for the campfire - but it won't be any fun going alone. There wouldn't be much point either. *shrugz* Guess I could always see you guys during the june hols..sometime.

Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger is now Pope Benedict XVI. Yes I know this is a little late, but so far I havn't had much to say. Was talking to a couple of friends just now though, and realized the extent of the misconceptions many people have about the Catholic Church. Well, no, I didn't just realize the extent, but the conversation did ire me enough to warrant a post. But you know what, I'm just not in the mood. It's late anyway. I'll post about it soon enough.

Nothing left to say.

Even the best fall down sometimes; even the stars refuse to shine.

Thoughts

Has it ever occured to you, that in this nanosecond, the second you took to read this word, someone's mother was born, someone's best friend has died, and a saint is made? Have you ever wondered how anyone, anybody, could keep track of what goes on in this world? Has the staggering amount of information, of insights into private lives the Internet has given us, ever suffocated you with the sheer weight of the knowledge that you truly are insignificant, that you are but a drop in the ocean of humanity - no, an atom in that drop - and yet you are still significant - significant enough to warrant attention for failing a test, to be assessed for suitability as a scholarship candidate, to break someone's heart, to make someone's day, maybe even to save someone life. Yet, is that significant? Is your life significant? Will it matter to the world at large, if you were dead or alive? Is that a question you can handle? What if the answer is no. What if, even if you did live your life to the fullest, and touched the lives of millions, it never mattered in the long run, because in the long run, everybody dies.

How does one believe an omnipotent, all-powerful God is really concerned, really loves, really cares for each individual. Yet I believe it. And I guess that's what Faith is about. Despite the mind-boggling issues I tussle with every minute, every day; despite the rushes of doubt and bewilderment and the whole point of life; despite the arguments I hold with myself everytime life doesn't rock, I believe. Despite the various assailing missiles of friendship, kindred-spiritship, tentative love even; despite the echoing voices and fingers pointing to the contrary; despite the temptation of taking the easy way of relativism out, I believe. And because I believe, I have to deal with issues which attack my belief. And everything seems to nowadays. More so because I'm thinking about it. But if we never thought about what we believe in - never even tried to understand the ultimate Mystery of Life, how can we profess to believe? How can we say we believe in something or Someone we don't even try to know? How do i reconcile what I believe in with what my best friends do, when our beliefs stand so firmly apart? Yet I would have been poorer for not knowing and not loving, even if knowing and loving hurts. How can a human proclaim all who do not believe in what he believes in go to hell, and still know and love the people around him? Which then, do I choose? The proclamation, or the knowledge and love? Can I choose both? God doesn't work in the ways of men - I suppose then, what we believe is logical, is not neccessarily divinely so. Yet how then do I know what is right? Is right even important, at this stage? To whom do I direct these questions? Why do I question.

Why do people have such a hold on each other? How can we have such great capacity to love, when the same capacity can be turned to hate? How can someone love a child, and kill a man? How can you be both good and evil? Why don't we understand ourselves? Why do we hurt each other, if we know what pain feels like? Why do we need each other? Why can't we stand on our own? Why doesn't our heart ever listen to what our mind says? Is that a good thing?

Random questions, which beg answers we don't have. And probably never will.

It's a lot darker at the deeper side of the pool.

Bloody msn

I'm now in a perfectly foul mood, made even fouler by the fact that I was in a perfectly good mood until it was ruined by the bloody fish head mutton curry toilet cleaner mother father orange peeler msn messenger which REFUSES to send ANY of my msgs to my friends. *smashes about a 100 guitars* I now understand the frustration of not being heard, let alone understood. Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Ok. Happy. Be happy.

Lalalalala. Ah frickdom.

I realize I only get comments when I post depressing stuff. Happy ppl don't seem to warrant any attention.

The temptation to swear has never been so great. Amazing isn't it. Cut me off from online, virtual existence, and I wanna curse msn to extinction. Which would be cutting off my nose to spite my face, because then I'll never get back on msn. Bloody fish head curry mutton drain sweeper foooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooosh. I know I'm plagiarizing, za. Sorry. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Growl.

Kate and Leopald rock btw. Almost as sweet as Keeping the Faith. Zid I would still go for Hitch though. Like I said, he knows what he's doing. Leopald...is just doing what he would do anyway. My mum keeps telling me English boys aren't like that anymore. Mwahahaha I think she's worried. She's got nothing to worry about. I'll end up being sister again - better yet, mother. Haha.

Foop lah. Annoyed, antagonized, bitter, bugged, chafed, choleric, convulsed, cross, displeased, enraged, exacerbated, exasperated, ferocious, fierce, fiery, frazzled, fuming, furious, galled, hateful, heated, hot, huffy, ill-tempered, impassioned, incensed, indignant, inflamed, infuriated, irascible, irate, ireful, irritable, irritated, maddened, nettled, offended, outraged, passionate, piqued, provoked, raging, resentful, riled, sore, splenetic, storming, sulky, sullen, tumultuous, turbulent, uptight, vexed, wrathful.

Phissssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Okie, mood swing over. I'm back to happy, hyper me. Heh.

I really really really shouldnt be online, or blogging, or even near the computer. I've got a maths test tomorrow on DE, IM and Probability I havn't started studying for, 2 econs worksheets I have no idea how to do, and a one week overdue lit S essay. One wonders why my mood swing is over under such conditions.

Anyway, everybody is falling sick. My mum, my sis, eunice, za, even JUNIOR my retriever puppy is sneezing. Have u ever seen a puppy sneeze? It's very adorable.

By the way, msn version 7.0 rocks. It is hilarious. One of the catalysts which broke me out of my mood. The other is this very sweet song a very sweet person sent me.

True Colors

Phil Collins

You with the sad eyes

Don't be discouraged

Oh I realize

It's hard to take courage

In a world full of people

You can lose sight of it

And the darkness, inside you

Makes you feel so small

But I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Just show your true colors

True colors are beautiful,

Like a rainbow

Show me a smile then,

Don't be unhappy, can't remember

When I last saw you laughing

If this world makes you crazy

And you've taken all you can bear

Just call me up

Because you know

I'll be there

And I'll see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Just show your true colors

True colors are beautiful,

Like a rainbow

Such sad eyes

Take courage now

Realize

When this world makes you crazy

And you've taken all you can bear

Just call me up

Because you know I'll be there

And I'll see your true colors

Shining throughI see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Just show your true colors

True colors, true colors

Are shining through

I see your true colors

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid; just let them show

Your true colors, true colors

True colors are beautiful,

Beautiful, like a rainbow

This goes out to all my darling darling friends too. G'nite. True colors are beautiful.

Not sad. Just mixed up.

about so many things. People. relationships. Friendships gone sour. People. people people.

To quote vas, the trouble with the world today is...we think too much.

I've done nothing, absolutely nothing the last 2 weeks. I need...I don't know what I need. But whatever it is, I don't have it.

I shouldnt be sad...cuz I'm not supposed to be sad right? I'm the life rockz person. The eternal optimist. The girl who would marry...nvm who I'll marry. Stop sniggering zaeunice&siying. But then, sometimes there's a limit to how much someone can take. And sometimes that limit comes when things you believed in, people you once trusted, and issues you once held sacred, ring false, betray your trust, and are violated respectively. Sometimes the limit comes when you can't ignore the rest of your world, when you can't block things out like you could before, when you can't seem to find someone who would listen and understand. Sometimes it comes when you're yelling "Leave me alone", when all you really want is to break down in someone's arms.

But whatever. I know I'm delusional. So just leave me alone.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I've been failing every gp essay since the beginning of the year.

And not just just failings either.

Marks like 19 out of 50.

What's wrong with me?

Mental block? Inertia?

Or is the theory that I was only doing well in gp because it was the only thing I could do well in the last 2 years true?

Hell. I don't know.

And it's bloody scary. When you can't even pass the one thing you thought you knew you could ace.

Wonder how my parents will react when they see my gp grade in a couple of weeks.

I know what I'll do. I'll explain it away, promise them a higher grade, smile throughout dinner,

then cry myself to sleep.

In the meantime though, I'll be smiling in school tomorrow.

=)

You like the sweet, shy type.

What kind of guy are you most attracted to? (CUTE anime pics)
brought to you by Quizilla

Alright, altogether now: 1, 2, 3...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Sweet, shy type. *guffaws* I tell you, I give Quizilla 5 stars for entertainment value. *wipes away tears of mirth*

Yesterday was nice. Fridays are pretty good in general, since I end at noon and can usually relax till 3ish when guitar starts. Yesterday was prettier gooder because of the combination of stars, hormonal 18 yr old girls, hooch, bare-torsoed male ballet dancers, commando mosquitoes and an endless supply of junk food. Went for Ballet under the Stars at Fort Canning. Nice. Ideal date too, although it was helluva lot of fun with my darling girl classmates.

What wasn't so nice was the discussion we had after - punctured several illusions about the inherent innocence of certain people. But no matter, right girls? Nobody messes with us and gets away with it. *insert name* is going dooooownnnn.

I realise that sounded vaguely threatening. Vaguely. But see, that's where you're wrong. We are anything but threatening. Innocent, sweet, gullible, naiive, easily-swayed 18 yr old girls that's what we are. *that said to the background of chirping bluebirds and pink flying ponies* No, really! It's easily deduced from our conversations.

Libby: Guys doing ballet is like...a high culture form of Chippendale.
Azzah, Eunice & Siying: Chippendale? Arent they like...chipmunks?

Sigh. I love my classmates.

And this is to all the nice guys

This probably won't be as long, or as profound as the tribute to the girls. Then again, I'm not Jessica Griffith, who probably has lots of time on her hands, and the wounded pride of a nice girl. Disclaimer: Lots of this is based on her tribute, just so you know. Don't sue me.

This is my tribute to the nice guys. To the nice guys who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more. Who spend hours wondering how they can be smarter, stronger, and more attractive, because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the guys who don't force it on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the guys who understand that they aren't perfect and that the girls they're interested in aren't either, for the guys who tease and laugh and wonder about the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time she'll have understood.

This is an homage to the guys who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in jeans and jerseys and sneakers, who care more than they should for girls who don't deserve their attention. This is for those guys who have been in the trenches, who have watched other guys time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the girls in their lives without saying a word. This is for the guys who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds."

This is where I digress. This is also for the guys who don't want to be more than friends, who treasure friendship more than a quick high. This is for the guys who know love is worth the wait, who would rather disappoint someone now than break her heart later. This is for the guys who get their hearts broken again and again, and still believe in love. This is for the closet die-hard romantics.

This is for the guys who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their girl friend hint after hint after hint only to watch her fall for the first cute guy with charm. This is for the guys who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too adorable, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

And finally, this is for the best friends. The guys who listen to the girls whine, nag and squeal, who watch them fall hard despite your best attempts to tell them otherwise, and who are right there when we hit the ground. This is for the guys who've seen us at our worst and our best, and who love us anyway. This is for the guys who see through us, but still let us think we're fooling them. For the guys who know who the nice girls are, but refuse to take advantage of them.

I won't launch into a rant at girls who don't know what they're missing out on. Simply because if they don't see the nice guy, they don't deserve him. After all, if everybody knew who the nice guys were, there won't be any left for us nice girls, would there?

This is to all the nice girls

This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it. This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend. This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep. This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys. This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it. So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race. So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)
By Jessica Leigh Griffith

Here goes nothing

Yes, I know I really shouldnt be blogging on a weekday (and the first day of school at that), but I needed to blog. Something. Anything. Just to get my mind of stuff.

And so here's a list of 10 books you should read some time this year:

1. The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
2. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
3. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
4. Sons and Lovers by DH Lawrence
5. A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth
6. New Ideas from Dead Economists by Todd G. Buchholz
7. King Lear by William Shakespeare (No, really???)
8. Brighton Rock by Graham Greene
9. Mister God, This is Anna by Fynn
10. The Way by JoseMaria Escriva

If you've forgotten how beautiful the English language is, read The God of Small Things. It's the only book I've read in months that has made me stop, put it down, lean back and go wow. It leaves you breathless, (and no that has nothing to do with the hot sex in it), and reeling from the magic of Roy's writing. She does things with words, bits of sentences and spirals of paragraphs I've never seen before. Don't take my word for it. Go read.

The Handmaid's Tale leaves you breathless too, but more with a nagging sense of dread than anything. It's a dystopian novel - something like Orwell's 1984, but feministic and with so many twists your heart curls. I won't tell you the story, cuz then it'll take all the fun out of reading the book.

Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice is, needless to say, a winner. She writes the sharpest and wittiest social commentary - and it's delightful cuz a lot of the things she says about the relationships between men and women are still true today. Wonderful when you can identify a crush in a hero/heroine, or an ex-crush in a villain/brainless git.

For General Information, I do the first 3 books in the list for Lit. For someone to have to read these books over and over and over again and still be in love with them, they've gotta be pretty good.

I'm gonna skip describing a couple of the books cuz it's getting late and I've still got homework to do, but New Ideas is by far the most interesting economics book I've read. It's nothing like a text book, and with a bit of thinking all the concepts are so easy to understand. Yay.

If you feel like you've lost your sense of wonderment at the world, or you're just jaded, disenfranchised and tired of life, read Mister God, This is Anna. It is the most beautiful book written about a child by her guardian. Read it, and you'll never look at the world in the same way again.

As for The Way, well, read it if you need inspiration. Or want to be awed. Blessed JoseMaria Escriva founded Opus Dei, a Catholic organisation now known sadly because of bad publicity in books such as the Genesis Code and the Da Vinci code for extremism and fundamentalism. I suggest you find out more about the organisation before drawing any conclusions for yourself, but the book is a gem. A lifeline, if you like. Agree or disagree with me, but give it a glance.

Mum and Dad are out hunting for a lab pup. I'm gonna train him to run with me - dogs are always so much more encouraging than humans. And loving. And accepting. And forgiving. My Teddy is soooo handsome.

10 hours to Term 2

Can you believe it? The march hols are over. OVER. sigh. Shaddup Jordon.

Today was fairly productive. Finished the PC paper Hunter gave us, but took a little longer than the 3 hours I was supposed to take. Just a teeny weeny bit more time. Really.

I can't believe the hols are over. What is the point of a one week holiday when all we can do with it is finish our homework? Huh? HUH??? Ok, well I admit i did a bit more than that. Monday was a blur. Let's see. Went out with my darling cousins on Tuesday, had lunch at Burger King, watched Hitch, splurged at Macs on Oreo McFlurries. Wednesday had lunch at NYDC, then guitar, Thursday went shopping with my mum and Friday was mum's birthday so we spent the day hunting for white lab puppies. (If anybody knows of some, tell me k?) Yesterday was pretty ok, did most of my work in the morning, but went lab hunting in the afternoon again, and spent the evening with my godbrother and his fiancee. Today was by far the most productive, although I only finished 2 essays - that's more than I've done in the entire week. Which tells you exactly how productive the rest of the week was.

Reading random blogs, I realize the most boring thing a blogger can do is tell you about his/her week. So just ignore my last paragraph.

Have you noticed a difference between most girl and guy blogs? Singaporean at least. We tend to have the same general problems, and thus the same issues to whine about. Guys tend to have...very descriptive blogs. Not neccessarily (I probably spelt that wrong) detailed, but descriptive. So you know exactly what happened, why, to whom, when, and the results. Girls on the other have very emotive blogs. Emotion-filled, short briefs of conversations held, excerpts of songs, more of the inner psyche thing. Of course, it's a generalisation. Some guys sound like girls on their blogs. And some girls...well, no. For some reason, I can usually tell when it's a girl blog. Then there are the blogs which are in between. Which refuse to follow the guyorgirl route. Which pride themselves on being neutral, informative and officious. These blogs we skip.

I can feel the holidays slipping away. Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo.

When school starts, I get to start it in the pool. Bedok Swimming Complex to be exact. I look terrible in my swimming costume. *sulks*

And you know, no matter how much we shrug it off, laugh about it, pretend it isn't there, it is. It's coming. The As. And we're getting closer and closer. I side-stepped last year, but this year I'm gonna be plunging straight in. Without a life vest. No fear. Just TERROR. Nothing to worry about, no? I work best under pressure anyway. Adrenaline-rush. Hopefully it doesnt poison me or something. Heh.

I want fish and co. Haha. I love the fries. And the cream. And the fish. Fish and chips. Mmmm. Brilliant. I'm salivating. Yes, I know you didn't need to know that. Still.

Is anybody else's blogger in Chinese? Mine is. Bloody hell. I know I should keep my Mandarin up to scratch, but being forced to navigate blogger in it is hell. Grr. If anybody knows how to help me, please do. I'll be indebted. You might even get lunch.

Why do I blog like someone's reading? For all I know, it's just me and...me. Ok, I know some people read. But nobody tags. *nudge* *sharper nudge* *kick in shins* It's depressing, y'know? Cut me some slack here.

Right. Back to the homework then. I can't wait for the As to be over. 6 months of freedom, here I come.

Blog Surfing

I don't want to link anybody, cuz then I'll have too many to link. And besides, it's rude to link people when you don't want them to link you. In addition to that the people I'm about to link don't know I exist. Which...is probably a good thing. Judging from their (soon to be) obvious ability to eavesdrop.

Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present my 3 most favourite (non-friend) blogs:

1. www.inpassing.org

2. xiaxue.blogspot.com

Sample :
He stared at me (giving me the exsperated face so many guys like to give me when I insult Jolin/Wong lilin/etc), and asked slowly,

"Thats where you are wrong, yanyan. The beauty of her, lies in her simplicity.""Oh really?", I told him.

"Go date an amoeba then. Can't get simplier than that."

3. www.mrbrown.com

And before you berate me on my supposed lack of taste (yes, i know, what?! xiaxue?!) I wish to emphasize that I DO have a sense of humour. And it DOES enjoy intellectual. Sometimes. Besides, she isnt too bad. Rather endearing. Mr Brown...need I say more? Hilarious. Straight to the point too. AND male. Which is relatively novel, since I don't find many male blogs interesting. (Note to potentially male readers: No darlings, I love your blogs. Honest.) As for In Passing, well, go read it. Especially the earlier posts. Her later posts get a little boring.

If you're into the Iraqi-US war, or if you just want something to be chilled by, check out www.riverbendblog.blogspot.com for a woman's take on things.

And you know what, I'm in a weird mood. I told myself I don't want this to be a mood-influenced blog, but hell it already is. Had a strange dream last night, (no Jordon, not telling :p) and it kinda tainted today. Then again, I always have weird dreams. More weird dreams than good dreams. Which is what's really disturbing me I guess.

Yesterday was good though. For the record, my cousins are adorable.

Gonna sleep. Hopefully the sweet dreams do come.

March Hols

I realise I havn't blogged in a while. And havn't suffered any withdrawal symptoms either. Interesting.

Anyway. I have discovered that I'm over any and all of the crushes, major and minor, that I may have or ever had. Woohoo. Over, over, over. Heh. Excuse me while I rejoice a while.







Back.
Bought 2 books from mph yesterday: the catcher in the rye, jd salinger, and why i write, george orwell. Finished catcher by 3 today, and half of why i write. No wonder my dad refuses to buy me books - it's such a waste of money. Haha, but I like having my own books. Books are nice. They smell good, they feel good, they tast- ahh no, don't worry, I don't eat my books when I'm done with them.

I just ruined my diet this weekend. Met darling za yesterday and had sticky chewy chocolate sundae for tea. then met ame and chris and had RIBS at cartel. so much ribs that we had to doggy bag them haha. Then today i told myself NO snacking. Which worked till dinner, which technically isn't a snack right? So yeah. I had fish and chips, which is okay in a shaky sort of way, but then I gave in to a heavenly chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream. Mmmmmmmm. Arghhhhhh. Im so gonna suck in my swimming costume on monday. *shudders*