mERRY cHRISTMAS

Your Blogging Type is Pensive and Philosophical

You blog like no one else is reading... You tend to use your blog to explore ideas - often in long winded prose. Easy going and flexible, you tend to befriend other bloggers easily. But if they disagree with once too much, you'll pull them from your blogroll!

What's Your Blogging Personality?

Just thought of saying a little greeting to all my christian friends.

Merry Christmas

Seraphim Anthology #07 - A Lovely Stain

Took me months to get an inspiration to write something original, but here it is finally. For my latest addition to my anthology, here's a sad piece that I wrote. Enjoy.

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Seraphim Anthology #07 - A Lovely Stain
A poem by Seraphim

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The glorious sun in the early morning
Splinters to his eyes
The soothing melody of the birds' chirping
A puncture into his head
The lush greenery of the trees' wavering
An eyesore to his brain

But

The dampest cell in the furthest corner
Where he could thrive
The deepest well in the darkest dungeon
Where his gaze could rest
The deadest hall in the vengeful asylum
Where his thoughts could scatter

Since

Dark was his soul
Restless, no sleep
Lost without a goal
Dry, couldn't weep
What's born of beauty
Brings his demise
Searching for a sanctuary
Then to his surprise

One day he felt
Sudden lightening in him
That didn't belong
Yet welcoming it seem
From a daughter of beauty
Child of grace
Salvation he found
In the look on her face

Now

The glorious sun in the early morning
Brought warmth to his eyes
The soothing melody of the birds' chirping
For once sounds nice
The lush greenery of the trees' wavering
No life it heist

But

All this serenity
And all this merrymaking
A misfit for him
Not really his longing
For a creature thus dark
It couldn't be that plain
Saving was not to be

Her love

Would be just

A stain

Till death do us part... NOT

Just been to a funeral yesterday, I mean two days ago since it's 12am already. It was my great uncle, not really one that I know personally, but one I visit every year on Hari Raya anyway. Talk about abrupt. The last time I saw him was not more than a month ago on the first week of Hari Raya. Death really has no schedule.

It's amazing how much you know about a person despite meeting him/her a mere once a year. They say "till death do us part". Okay, it's a quote. You think that's true? Nah. From what I witnessed two days back, it's the exact opposite. I bet the poor guy's long forgotten best friend came to see him off. What irony, the dead draws more than the living.

I remember the same thing happening a few years back. It was somewhere in Malaysia, another distant relative died. At his funeral, relatives from all over South-east Asia came. None of them have seen him by any person's view of recent. From my childhood days I remember him saying, "You (my close relatives) won't be visiting me often. Only when I die, then you'll all come running to me". Rest well, you were right gramps.

For my late uncle, I know I won't miss him much. But no matter how much I disregard my (extended) family, I know they have some value. Like I know I'll miss the nasi dagang he cooks every Hari Raya. Damn, one less thing to look forward to. Nonetheless, his departing did have an impact on me. It just reminded me of how much regard I have for the dead. Therefore, to his memory, rest well. The living won't forget.

Synthesis Successful

Wow, for once I'm gonna do a full journal entry. Well, for those who DIDN'T attend the VERY FUN reunion. Will reupdate soon with pics. Here's the juicy details.
WARNING: Long entry.



0700: By some miracle I managed to wake up on time despite having gone to sleep (or knock-out as I would consider them) at 3am the previous night (same day actually). Normal morning stuff, with extra grooming, shine my nails... (awe... noone noticed they were shiny, heh)

0830: Met up with Sarah and Huiling at Giant to get supplies. Enjoyed a quick morning bite (usual caffeine dosage for me) while waiting for Giant to be open. Our ending purchase was quite an awkward mix of food, jumbling sushi with bananas. The culmination of our hour-long shopping was at a staggering SEVENTY DOLLARS! But we did not mind a thing because we're gonna claim it from our teachers! ;-)

The most depressing news was when our dear friend Scott (it's SCOTT people SCOTT!!!) called last minute saying he couldn't make it! That was depressing news because most of the popular guys (you know, the main attraction, not exactly in positive terms) could not make it. But after some persuation and filial nagotiations on his side, we finally got Scott!

1030: Made a fashionably late arrival at the MRT station with everyone already there except for dear Mrs Tan. Attendance was quite disappointing, considering I've called for a total attendance of 30, and called the WHOLE CLASS. Nonetheless, it did reach my minimum quota. Anyway, here's the list of those who attended:

Teachers
Mrs Isa Tan (+daughter)
Mrs Teri Toh

Guys
Frederick
Zongming
ME (duh)
Pusparajan
Suhaili
Wei Shen
Scott

Girls
Melissa
Meili
Sarah
Hui Ling
Norashidah
Amalina
Hassanah
Nurliyana
Nurmaisyarah
Siti Aishah

Total: 20

So after breaking the ice amongst the frozen solid people who had been waiting at the station and the super-fashionably late arrival of Mrs Tan, we finally headed off to Sentosa. The ride there had an amazingly large amount of talk about Thomas and homosexuality with myself getting thrown in the weird mix.

1200: (eventually) We somehow, after several road blocks and map rereadings, managed our way onto a slightly shady spot on Siloso Beach. Again, the awkward silence amongst these awestruck (more like dead-struck) people. We grabbed whatever we could to eat then made our way to the water. That was where we found ourselves knee deep in the water and everyone just became dead and refused to proceed once again...

Most incredibly my coincidence (yeah, right), my clique had an outing at the same beach at the same spot, some distance away. After managing to drag out legs off the edge of the water, the guys went to play soccer with... the other guys. The challenge was too tempting for me to refuse, despite last played soccer for what must have been two years back. It was quite a tough match, we were more or less evenly matched, despite having better players on the other guys' team. Must have been from all those years of playing soccer together in primary school. The game ended with an incredibly lengthy last goal, mostly dued to the players' lack of interest in continuing the game.

1415: It had been fun, but Scott and Raj had to depart. Mrs Tan departed sometime during our match since she was departing the country as well. Unsportingly, Frederick and Zongming decided that they missed their mummies too much and had to return to suckle up really quick. Me and the other guys had quite an interesting game of monkey in the water. Having water as my familiar element, it was incredibly fun to actually BE the monkey as it never was long before I managed to harrass someone for the ball.

1500: Incredibly, after the departure of the unfortunate ones who had to leave, the day turned to a brighter side (quite literally, the sun started to blaze) and we started playing games.

Our first game was 'Dog and Bone'. For those not familiar with it, it's played with two teams with the same number of people and each of them allocated a number. They are then to stand in two parallel lines in their teams facing the opposing team and an object (the bone) is placed at the centre. The game is played by having a/some number(s) called and those person(s) being called have to run off with the item back to their team without getting tagged by the person from the opposing team. Wow, I actually had to explain this game to some people.

We played it by changing the distance to the bone(frisbee) to what was an almost 10m sprint and we buried the frisbee in an unknown location. It was fun but we soon got bored of it due to the lack of sense and objective. (like duh it's senseless, it's an orientation game!)

Next, for the longest time, we played a game of whacko. Now, to explain THIS game. Everyone sits in a circle, introduce their name, have a person stand in the centre, have a name called and the person at the centre tries to whack the person being called. To avoid getting whacked, simply call another person.

We played this game by having nicknames. For the first few rounds we were renamed after flowers. Doesn't sound like much but it really was fun trying to figure out who's who. Besides, if you're out there with the sun, sand, sea and screaming girls (this is a pun if you're dumb enough not to notice), it would no doubt be fun. I was lavender by the way, haha. *rolls eyes* Then we were renamed after MRT stations. This was an even more fun challenge since we had to figure out if the station we called actually had a person attached to it. No need to explain why this is supposed to be fun.

1600: I remembered to check my phone for Mrs Toh's call, and I was aghast to find that she called AN HOUR AGO! Called her back, and fortunately she had diarrhoea (sick idea of fortunate, eh?) and was coming late. So she popped up at around 1620.

After all the running around in the sand, we settled down for a quieter acitivity. Me, being the guy who archives stuff, brought a whole big bunch of old stuff from primary school to reminisce over. The first on the list was a letter from our beloved Ms Salwati dated 11 August 2000!!! It really was memorable. That was when we figured out a challenge. Read on.

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The Yuqun Legacy Hunt

From the letter, we found out that my copy of the letter was the first out of the unknown number of letters that Ms Salwati would post to us in that consecutive weeks. The thing is, the letters were posted to a different person every week, and since we did not share the letter (despite her saying otherwise), the letters were never put together.

So the challenge is, fellow 6A Yuqunarians of 2001, to hunt for your copy of the letter if you did receive one and bring it on the next reunion. Only then will our hunt be completed.

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After the letter, I showed everyone the birthday cards I received for my 12th birthday. What was interesting about that was more than half of those cards were unnamed, hoping that I would finally figure out the sender today. Unfortunately, none of my secret senders were identified, leaving them a mystery till today.

Moving on, we went on to pictures! Old pictures of events and things we did together. Even showed everyone our class photos! That was sure fun, comparing people now and then. I even brough the Yuqun Memories book, similar to a yearbook especially made for that year to commemorate the school's closing. To top it off, I brought the first and last copies of the students' newsletter, Kids Express! (actually, there were ONLY two editions) That must have been the highlight of the event, considering that it was (meant to be) a reunion.

1700: At the end of that mushy segment, we just went free and easy, going around the water and lazing around. For some reason, a sand war broke out amonst the other guys, with me as the main casualty. Let's just say my clothes didn't stay sand-free despite rinsing them thrice.

1750: Exhaustion finally caught up with us and we decided to call it a day. For the guys, this point of time was incredibly boring, having to wait for the girls while they set up a make-up studio in the changing room for more than half an hour... If that was slow, our journey back to Harbourfront was longer with the frequent breaks in betweens to rest, etc.

2000: Yes, it's 8pm by the time we went our separate ways at the Harbourfront interchange. Not really separate ways, since we all made a remarkable realisation that all of us live rather near each other (duh). So from here, I dictate my story. Went to eat at the hawker centre right next to the interchange, after running through half a dozen options again and again without a conclusion. There, we found the secret to making a hawker stall popular and the other five with me concluded that I love blood (how that relates logically to anything and how that was concluded was beyond me). Had Meili to treat me to a sixty-cent bandung since I had no small change, haha, small trivia. I owe you 60c Meili! Oh yeah, and Sarah still owed me $2 from the McDonalds thing! And Mrs Tan owes me $10!!!

2315: Here I am, almost finishing this blog entry. Wow, working on a blog entry for one and a half hours with cramped muscle and sand in my butt crack. Such dedication. Alright, we've come to the end of this year's reunion. So for those of you who DIDN'T come or LEFT from this EXCITING reunion, a big HA-HA to you. And to all, the message below.

Announcement
LIke what I did a few months earlier for Synthesis, I'm making an announcement for next year's reunion. There will probably be another one next year in around June or December. It will be a chalet next time, so keep your time free! I'm planning this one with a full itinerary with the teachers, so I expect FULL ATTENDANCE everyone!!!

That's all for this year.

Signing out.

Mission Completed

Just made an interesting discovery recently at a meeting. If you keep thinking about the words 'basically' and 'actually', you'll find yourself using it in every sentence. That's not exactly good when you're editing a 30-page proposal whose writer was doing that. Heh.

I'm feeling emo today (if I can possibly feel emotions that is), so I was thinking of writing a short emotional entry. So here's the first part. Not meaning to sound too angsty, I'm writing it this way.

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Ten signs your mum doesn't know you well (or you're a baby)

10. She picks you from school.

9. She's got your life planned till the day you retire (or beyond).

8. She thinks that your favourite tv programme is Sesame Street.

7. She covers your eyes when there's kissing scenes on tv.

6. After she organises your room, you reorganise it.

5. You sigh at her birthday present for you.

4. She kisses you flat on your lips in front of your friends.

3. You have a curfew.

2. She still talks of your four-year-backdated affairs.

1. When you shop together, the clothes that she picks is what you don't.

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Well today, I've:

Sipped on coffee from heaven.
Secured the most anticipated weekend of 30 people's lives.
Saved four pages of people from wasting 75 minutes of their time.

And

Mission Completed

Or is it just the beginning?

Whatever it is, that sure was one heck of a day.

School under the moonlight

It's been weeks since the O levels ended and still I haven't come up with a good entry. When I get a blessing of inspiration then maybe I'll consider doing so. For now, I'm just gonna update on the school dinners that's been happenning in the past weeks.

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Council Dinner

I shall take my liberty to comment and critique the event for the sole purpose of reviewing the event.

The seniors all came to the dinner with a whole big sigh of relief. We had our wish of the dinner granted before our passing, which was previously denied under the school's new stringent budgeting guidelines. I arrived there quite early, in fact one of the earliest non-staff person to arrive there.

Registration was laid out just perfectly, with everything at the registration desk laid out in order and thought out thoroughly. A first reaction into the dinner hall would be quite unanimous for all seniors; it was rather small. I mean, it was obvious that it was a fraction of a much larger hall, so it gave quite a claustrophobis feel to the place. But with the nicely laid out table and doorgift, that was quite excused.

Overall, the dinner was satisfactory, with everything that should be in it was in it. However, the programme could use a bit more life to it. Many felt that it felt rather sudden and ended too abruptly. Oh, and the food! While we, the seniors, do appreciate that the organisers thought that being served was a better option, better food from a buffet would be hollistically preferred over. But hey, last year it was served and it wasn't that bad, so serving isn't so bad.

To those involved in organising the event, a big pat on your shoulders and you have the seniors' grattitude.


The ex-excos' reserved VIP table (hehe), with the discipline committee squeezing in


5th Student Council members, you rawk man, you rawk!

For more pictures, visit:
http://aikolovesyou.blogspot.com/
http://simplifiedlove-.blogspot.com/


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ESPLENDOR: Seniors' Prom Night

Ok ok, it's prom. End of story. There's really not much to talk about, other than the fact that the male emcee sounds totally brainless. I mean, really, where do they get this guy? Mental institution having an offer? So if you want to get more scoop on the prom, go to other blogs. Not like it helps since everybody just put pictures.

Another side comment. Some people just don't get the idea that it's prom. I mean, IT'S PROM!!! You dress nicely because IT'S PROM!!! You don't have to understand it, just keep shouting IT'S PROM!!!

Anyway, me and Mobie ended up stranded along Plaza Singapura. Again. Thank god for us we bumped into a couple more people and headed for the movie theatre, which we found was closed. So he skipped down the road into a pool place. Yeah... Such a thrilling way to end off prom and the end of secondary school life. Seriously, doesn't ANYONE have a sense for a nightlife at sixteen?

After that short game, we went to eat at Lau Pa Sat at 3am in the morning!!! Woohoo! Night life rocks! All you pussies who went home right after prom sux! God do I sound like a brainless party-goer.


The BoBs, and a... What do you call a female Bob? Boobie?


The BoBs with a hairy addition


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Ok, that's all you're gonna get until I get more brains and more sense to write a good entry. Till then, tata!

Night life rock!
*hick*

Synthesis

NOTE: This entry concerns students from Yuqun Primary School Class of 6A 2001.



To view or print a copy of the invitation, click HERE

Dear friends

As stated on the entry on Wednesday, 31 August 2005 (scroll down to view), there will be a reunion outing on 10 December 2005. If you have not been contacted, please contact me via the contact number stated in the invitation (click the link to view the invitation).

The details for the outing are available in the invitation. You are also reminded to bring basic neccesities (change of clothes, towel, soap, beach mat, playing equipment, etc) for your own convenience.

The activities for that day will include water games, group games, lunch... Well, it's the sun, sand and sea out there, so you get the picture. Those with medical conditions or health restrictions (excludes refusal to be dumped in the water) must inform me (you-know-who) prior to the event. Ending time may vary.

Alright, I hope to see all of you guys there.

Signing out.

P.s.: For those interested, here's the link for the Yuqun memorial that I made in P6
http://www.geocities.com/slytherin_basilisk/yuqun.htm

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri

Baiklah, untuk artikel Hari Raya ini sahaja, saya akan taip dalam bahasa Melayu. WAH!!! Inilah pertama kali saya taip dalam Melayu semenjak kali terakhir saya taip sepucuk karangan. Memang sudah terlalu lama...

Cukuplah dengan kata-kata mengarut di atas itu. Tinngal satu hari sahaja sebelum kita semua menyambut Hari Raya. (perasanlah bahawa di saat ini saya tidak tahu apa untuk ditaip)

Err...

Dalam bahasa Melayu, apa yang boleh dikatakan ya?

Hmmm...

Eh, memang tidak ada idea lah...

Zzzz...

Oi, jangan tidur dahulu...

*menggaru kepala*

Susah lah nak fikirkan idea...

Kerana tidak mempunyai idea, saya akan tulis sahaja tentang apa yang sedang berlaku, telah berlaku dan yang akan datang.

Wah, sudah hampir dua bulan semenjak pos terakhir saya! Bila lihat semula, pos itu di pertengahan peperiksaan prelim. Jauh memang... Sekarang, sudah hampir peperiksaan peringkat O pula. Di bawah, saya telah senaraikan kejadian-kejadian semenjak pos yang terakhir itu:

24 September: Peraduan kad Magic (Ravnica) sebelum keluaran

03 Oktober: Peperiksaan oral peringkat O Perancis

05 Oktober: Permulaan puasa dan bulan Ramadan

15 Oktober: Rumah terbuka NJC

17 Oktober: Permulaan perhentian sekolah untuk ulangkaji bagi perlajar mengengah empat

22 Oktober: Rumah terbuka ACJC

27 Oktober: Peperiksaan praktikal peringkat O Fizik

31 Oktober: Peperiksaan peringkat O Melayu

01 Nobember: Sambutan Deepavali

03 November: Hari Raya Aidilfitri!!!

Wah, banyak memnag kejadian semenjak pos yang terakhir itu ya? Tidak sangka saya (suara sarkastik).

Okey, untuk kejadian yang akan datang pula. Untuk budak-budak Melayu yang mmembaca pos ini, ketahuilah yang saya akan menjemput kamu semua untuk jalan-jalan raya pada minggu yang ketiga, yaitu selepas peperiksaan peringkat 'O' telah berakhir. Jangan khuatir, saya pasti akan menjemput kami semua (yelah tu...). Selain daripada itu, tunggulah sahaja untuk berita terkini daripada saya dalam masa akan datang.

Baiklah, sudah sampai ke akhir pos saya kali ini. Saya berharap semoga kamu semua akan menyambut Hari Raya yang meriah, maaf, zahir dan batin untuk apa sahaja salah yang saya telah katakan dan

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri

Kepada semua yang membaca.

On the darker side

Felt like doing more of those lame quizzes. Quite cool, rather accurate. Enough said, just see. Oh, if you're looking for that piece of ficiton that I just wrote, it's the one below this entry.

Your connection with darkness is through your murderous ways/thoughts. You want to kill, get away with it and do it again and again etc. To be in charge of peoples lives, to decide if someone should live or die makes you feel powerful. And power is addicting. But chances are you haven't commited murder(torture/rape) yet. So far theese thoughts stay inside and haven't come to life. Most people wouldn't expect you to want to do this(maybe close friends/familymembers) since you look just like an ordinary Joe (but sometimes theese types stand out). In school you were likely the quiet one who seemed harmless. Isn't is fun to prove people wrong?


What is your connection with darkness? [pics]

Your soul is broken.

You are living through a lot of pain everyday that you have to deal with, which is making you sorrowful. No one ever stays by our side when you truly need them and no one ever will. Everything is hopeless and tragic and you keep yearning for the day you will be free from pain. Love is unlikely to happen to you because you isolate yourself and are suspicious of peoples motives. You stand in the shadows of the world, watching what you can never have. The bruises you carry never seems to heal, your mind is dark and no one seems to understand or wants to help. As always, you will be alone in the world, fighting your dark thoughts by yourself.


How is your soul? [pics]

Your element is Fire: Strong, hot tempered, powerful, and passionate. Well now lets see, being fire you are quite strong and powerful, people look up to you greatly and often seek your protection. You have the ability to gain many friends and you are always one people can count on to do what you say you will do. You are extremely loyal be it friends or family you'll stick up for them and you are never willing to put them in a position that could hurt them. You know what roll you play in life, leader, and you intend to let people know it. Not everyone is capable of leadership but you certainly have the willpower and flare to do it. You have quite a temper if it shows itself, one that can often lead you into trouble. Once your mind is made up there is no changing it but no one said that was a bad thing.

What is your element? [with pics + detailed answeres]

You are an assassin.

That means you are a proffessional and do your job without mixing any emotions in it. In your life you have probably been hurt many times and have gotten some mental scars. This results in you being distant from people. Though many think that you are evil, you are not. What you really are is a person, trying to forget your pain and past. You are the person who never seems to care and that is why being an assassin fits you good. Atleast, that's what people think. Even if you don't care that much for your victims, you still have the ability tocare and to generally feel. It is not lost, just a little forgotten. In crowds you tend to not get to noticed, and dress in black or other discrete colours. You don't being in the spotlight and wish people would just leave you alone. But once you do get close to someone you have a hard time letting go and get real down if you loose him/her.

Main weapon: Sniper

Quote: "The walls we build around us to keep out the sadness also keep out the joy" - Jim Rohn

Facial expression: Narrowed eyes


What Type of Killer Are You? [cool pictures]

Your power is: Time Control

Explanation: You have the ability to freeze, push forward or go back in time. In good purposes it is used to prevent bad deeds, and the opposite for evil purposes. As a person your emotional level has been on hold. For one reason or another emotions has reduced and now you aren't so full of life. And of course, this does not sadden you since you could care less. Sometimes though you can be hit by emotioal waves inside but you block it all out. You don't search for something that could make you happy since you have no hope in that area any longer. People probably see you as annoying because you're not involved and just stand there. You probably don't have that many friends either, and you feel like you are with them because that's what you normally do. You stick to your habits and don't appreciate changes.

Negative aspects: One day all emotions are gonna surface again, and that
day will be very painful. Instead it is more wise to start up the emotional
level bit by bit, so it won't come as a big chock.

What Power is Compatible With You? [beautiful anime pictures + 12 detailed results]

Your word is: Brooding. You are a true thinker and often try to figure out the meaning of life, why we are all here etc. You may not be so social, and often think twice before acting but those thoughts you have in your mind never stop flowing in. Sometimes you can be so concentrated you forget about other things that you have to do. Don't change, this world needs deep people.


What Dark Word Represents You? [anime pics]

Gilded Grimoire #05 - Down the Barrel - Obligation

It's been a lovely weekend for me. In between the bustling of revision, I managed to slip a little petal that's blooming me open. So, yeah, you can say I'm a bit on the emo side right now.

Before going back from West Coast, I went around the park for a whiff of fresh air, with "The Loneliness - Babyface" ringing in my ears while messaging a new cordial acquaintance. It was a momentary bliss, but a memorable snapshot in time.

"You've hardly ever been kissed, but the kisses you've given are very missed."

With such inspiration and emotions running high, I've decided to release another one of my short stories. And boy, was I surprised to realise that the last fiction was in MAY!!! This time I've made 'obligation' the theme, so enjoy!

WARNING: The following fiction contains themes involving war, alcohol and death. NOT for the faint hearted.

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Gilded Grimoire #05 - Down the Barrel - Obligation
A fiction by Seraphim

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Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin! (nipperkin: mug of beer)

- The Man He Killed by Thomas Hardy


I gave a cold stare at the man before me. There really was no reason not to. I was the one directing that morbid scene, an intense scene of the powerful over the helpless. It was not mercy that I showed, but something else.

I could have done it quickly, but for some reason a diabolical will within hissed me to do it slowly. As the despair of my prey surged through me, I could not help but shiver as my finger caressed the trigger.

Whatever sanity that I had was wondering at what I was doing in such a situation. Here I was, in the midst of this hellish battlefield, at the edge of victory, savouring a moment with my very own pet enemy. Maybe the bloodlust from the ongoing war was not enough; maybe a little indulgence in sadism was what I was really craving for. Whatever it was, I had my share of the fun now. I was short of reasons to keep him alive any longer.

A snigger slipped by my lips. I prominently cocked the sidearm, making sure that the cocking sound was audible to the both of us. At point blank, I squeezed an eye shut and took aim. My hand wavered around a bit to browse for a satisfying target. Out of ideas, I just decided to go for the head.

I cocked, I aimed, I shot.


But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.

- The Man He Killed


I was no fool. The battle might be lost, but no chance in hell was I going to skip down to hell without company. There was a fool in front of me though. Bloody Americans, always thought that they would win it all. Tough luck mate, not for you at least.

There was no point in living then, it’s either valour on the battlefield or torture in the hands of those bloody Americans. I watched that bastard prepare my ticket to hell, inside me screaming at my allowance for this humility. All was not lost, I reassured myself. I had his ticket to hell down my back. It was my blessing that he did not notice the loaded revolver tucking out of my back pocket. One way trip to hell coming right up.

Expected as it was, there was nothing to prepare me for staring down the barrel of that loaded gun. It was fear in its purest form, as the carnal instinct to survive kicked in. Accepting death was never part of nature’s plan. If I were not on my knees, they would have been nothing better than jelly. There was that damning sound from the gun, and a violent tremble shook through my body. This was it, I thought.

He cocked. He aimed. I aimed. He shot. I shot.


I shot him dead because--
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although

- The Man He Killed


Not my day I guess. And that would be the last day I would ever have. But I have to admit, that was a nice trick. Making me think that I had won the day, then pulling out the fast one back on me. It was not that bad at least. I died in pleasure from the sadism he granted me in my final moments.

Time really did seem to slow down, as I became part of the final act in that theatre of tragedy. They say your whole life flashes before you when you die. Well, not really. I only got to see the night before. It was a happy memory. My comrades and I spent the eve of the battle like we always did, bar hopping at the nearest town.

It was especially crowded that night. Not just with our men, but there seemed to be others out merry-making as well. There were the usual dose of drinks, cigars, and girls of course. Exhaustion prevented any bedroom activities that night, so we just settled for drinks with the locals.

There was this particular cheery man I happened to be of acquaintance of. Seemed like a local. We talked about life, family, war. What else do people in the middle of a war talk about these days? We never did talk about why we were there, but it was apparent that he was on the same boat as I was. Trying to find a bit of cheer in a graveyard.

That was it then. The ending chapter to my sad story of life. Nothing else to it. I had a final glance at that bastard before my eyes finally closed. Might want to thank him down in hell. Kind to think of it, the face was…


He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand like--just as I--
Was out of work--had sold his traps--
No other reason why.

- The Man He Killed


The look on his face was definitely worthy of the final moments of my life. It sure made all that tension worthwhile. As I was falling down to my final resting place, I felt no regrets. Life was that, a sad excuse to die. Getting a bit of excitement before the end was the most I could get out of it.

I knew that this battlefield would be my deathbed. The cockroaches in the pantry were outnumbering our troops. The atmosphere back at the bunkers was a cold whisper from death itself. I escaped the murder into the heart of the town, to do what any troubled man would do around there: drink.

At least people were more at ease there. Despite all the worries that burdened any soul around there, everybody acted carefree. Had a bit of a chat with the people there. The girls did not seem too willing that night. Even had a real conversation with a foreigner. The drinks were sure not strong enough that night.

As I was falling, I finally looked beyond the barrel of the gun into that bastard’s face. It was a memory happy enough to ease my stay in hell. Kind to think of it, the face was…


Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat, if met where any bar is,
Or help to half a crown.

- The Man He Killed


…his. …his.

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Alright, maybe this one is a bit on the morbid side. But what the hell. I felt like it. So what do you think? Comment!

An advice to whoever wishes to hear:

If the love is true, then you would be willing to part from her.
For only if you return, and there is still love, then the love was true.
If you are never willing to part, obsessed with what you thought was love,
Then there was never love in the first place.
Just an obsession.

Council Outing - Senior's Account

Last Saturday, on the 3rd of September 2005, the 6th Student Council had their first outing together (with some additions from the 5th council) and lately, some of them have been popping up with accounts of the outing on their blogs. So today, I'm here to offer a senior's account of the outing from the under-represented seniors' point of view.

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So it started off with a rainy day, early in the morning. Rise and shine! The meeting time for the seniors were delayed to 11 am. And there I was, at JE MRT station at 11, only to find out that everybody else was still at home doing their hair. Fast forward 45 mins later, got everyone down at the MRT platform. Everyone consisted of me, Omar, Alvin and Hafizah. Talk about under-represented.

We went to Harbourfront to grab some snacks, since the council was left with a measly amount in their funds. It rained, again, when we arrived there. Lazed around at cold storage, where we spent what was like half an hour choosing drinks, before finally setting off.


The seniors arrived to a funeral-silent scene. We found out later that they've already tired themselves out. That was at 1.30 pm, and some of them have already gone out like six hours before that. They sure don't sleep much.



The first thing that we did there after changing was... dump people!!! Nobody was safe from the water. Except Ms Ridz of course, who had the Aura of Detention to protect her.




Once we got bored of dumping, we went digging! Did a sand makeover of Arif, with extra large assets with the complete genital features and all. Thus the product of adolescent hormones running amok.





Boredom never lasted long on that day. There were always games to play. The kids were playing soccer, frisbee and other assortments of amusing activities to fill the time.

But best of all was the game of Dog and Bone, where everyone played. Simple, but highly amusing when played in the sand with all the cheery atmosphere. It was a battle between the seniors and juniors as we separated ourselves into two groups, one being the sec 2s and the other being the sec 3s and 4s. There were lots of accidents, violent wrestling, slipping, kicking, sand throwing and other nasty play, but it was fun nonetheless. Had a two rounds of that and obviously the supreme seniors won both. As punishment, the juniors had to do a forfeit.


For losing the first round, they had to do some butt spelling. Guess what the phrase was? 'Commonwealth Secondary School Student Council 2005'. Their butts deserved a spelling-B prize after all that.

For losing the second round, they won themselves a Funky Chicken display, including an all-original Ms Ridz version. That was a definite laugh for the seniors.

And like all outings, there's lots of pictures involved. I spotted the Bollywood trend of taking pictures behind trees in the photos, so let me present to you the Bollywood series:






Life is never empty of irony. Look at the following pic:

Then we found this:

Signboards lie...


And how can we forget the darling seniors... Yes people, zoom into Omar's head. It's not gelled!!! Wow! The whole world will make such a big deal about it and publish it in every tabloid on Earth! Sheesh, like anyone cares about that Omar...


We somehow got ourselves up there to take this wonderful picture. And unfortunately, no, Alvin's not dead. Damn.

So there you have it, our outing at the beach. One heck of a time. Had to cut it short since 'mummy' Ms Ridz couldn't stay long. Went back to Harbourfront where we rendezvous with Kel Vin (a fifth senior, yeah!!!) for dinner.

Went back home before nine! Gasp!!! That's early. The last time the council had an outing, most of us came back on the stroke of midnight! Hope to have the next one that long too, hehe, don't tell mummy that. That's all there is.

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Sure is a fresh change to have a day account on this blog. Nah, I'm not gonna do it all the time, too troublesome. Btw, tweaked the layout a bit to make it less irritating. Comment if you still find anything troublesome.

Woah, just realised that almost to the bottom, there hasn't been an intelligent entry in sight! I might lose my reputation as a good blogger. Gotta come up with something good soon...

And thanks to Cheryl and Geraldine for the pics! (and yes, they're hosting them, hehe)Go visit their blogs for more pictures from the outing, link's on the side. Phyo has a minute-by-minute account on his blog too. Check them out!



Another hint of boredom and stupidity. Lol.

Boredom

I was bored, and found this, so there you have it.

Your Kissing Purity Score: 77% Pure

You've hardly ever been kissed But the kisses you've given are very missed

Kissing Purity Test

Awe... That's so sweet...

Part Romantic Kisser

For you, kissing is all about feeling the romance You love to kiss under the stars or by the sea The perfect kiss involves the perfect mood It's pretty common for kisses to sweep you off your feet

Part Passionate Kisser

For you, kissing is about all about following your urges If someone's hot, you'll go in for the kiss - end of story You can keep any relationship hot with your steamy kisses A total spark plug - your kisses are bound to get you in trouble

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

Not bad...

Your Birthdate: February 4

Being born on the 4th day of the month should help make you a better manager and organizer. You may be more responsible and self-disciplined than you realize. Sincere and honest, you are a serious and hard working individual. Your feelings are likely to seem somewhat repressed at times. The number 4 has something of an inhibiting effect on your ability to show and express affections, as feeling are very closely regulated and controlled. You are apt to be much more practical, rational, and conscious of details. There is a good deal of rigidity and stubbornness associated with the number 4.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

Wow, that's too freakishly accurate...


Alright, alright... Gotta get back to work...

Seraphim Anthology #06 - Of books and deeds

It's teachers' day again, and as usual, I made cards for all the teachers. Just to fill in a blog entry, I've decided to post the contents of the cards in here. So here you go.

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Seraphim Anthology #06 - Of Books and Deeds
A poem by Seraphim

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[on front of card, it came with a white rose]

For a pure love
The deepest sorrow
Or joyful times
That may come tomorrow

The white rose

[inside the card]

Want all that you could offer
To become one that really matters
Tree of life, bound to its roots
For one life we live, from flesh to soot
Five days a week, knowledge we seek
Sick of routine, yet everyday we meet
Seven days straight, we loaded our brains
Ate no rewards, yet sorrow and pain
Nine tails of wisdom, persistent to achieve
Tan have our skins, now reward we reap

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Familiar? Yeah, it follows the style of my previous poem. Yeah yeah, not original I know. I fell asleep before I got to prepare the cards, so I did them the morning before I went to school.

Also, each card for each teacher had some additional fun text in them. I guess you might enjoy this one more, so read on.

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[to my English/literature teacher]

"For the purpose of this essay, 'happy' will mean 'to be off one's rocker' and 'teacher' will mean 'nutter'. With respect to the above,

Happy Teachers' Day!"

[to my maths teacher]

Girls = Time x Money
Time = Money
Girls = Money x Money = Money²
Money = √Evil
Girls = (√Evil)²
Therefore: Girls = Evil

So you see, boys are bad, but girls are evil!

[to my physics teacher]

"For every deed, there will be an equal and opposite repayment."
- Newton's law of kindness

[to my geography teacher]

"Through erosional processes such as training, determination, perseverance and kindness, the stack has developed into a wonderful teacher!"

[to my social studies teacher]

"I agree to a large extent that you are a wonderful teacher. From cross-reference and my knowledge of the context, I conclude so."

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Well, my teachers' day went well. Though didn't get to see much teachers... Spent the whole day till 3 at school, sorting out the IT club's 'neoprint' service. Not bad for our first publicity stunt, made more than a hundred bucks.

Didn't get to go back to primary school though, left school late. But did manage to go see a teacher at Mac's! To those whom I met there: nice seeing you guys again! Hope we see each other again soon!

ANNOUNCEMENT
P.S. to Yuqun Pri P6 classes of 2001: Me and the teachers are probably planning a reunion after the 'O's at chalet/buffet/etc. Keep the first week of December free!!! See you there!

Daily Schedule

Saturday

0800 - Wake up - Check organiserW
WTF!!! Malay prelim on Monday!!! Haven't taken mother tongue for two months and now I need to improve two grades in two days?!?!

0830 - Malay practise paper
Bloody hell! I don't even recognise these words anymore!!!

1030 - Still doing Malay practise paper
*hysterical* WHAT ARE THESE WORDS?!?!

1045 - Still at it...
Oh! They're upside down!!!

1200 - Lunch
Nasi lemak! Nasi ayam! Mee soto! I can speak Malay now!!!

1230 - Double check organiser
WTF!!! English prelim on Tuesday! Must clear out corrupted vocabulary of obsceneties in three days?!?!

1300 - English practise paper
Summary of the passage: bullshit

1430 - Still doing practise paper
Replace the following words with a suitable word or phrase
practise english: useless

1530 - Still at it...
Do you agree that the elder should be treated as second class citizens?
Hell yeah

1700 - Triple check organiser
AAAAARRRRRGGGHH!!!!! @)*%&*$&%(^(#@^@$!!! French prelim on TUESDAY ALSO!!!

1800 - RIP

Meet the BOBs #01 - Eh-Oh!

Just a little about my life in school. My clique call ourselves the Band of Brothers, ridiculously acronymed BOB. Recently, a friend of mine (one of the BOBs of course), started a fiction series in his blog (http://cursed-blessings.blogspot.com) that garbles about some of our adventures in school, in a farfetched exaggerated way. It was decided that I do a prequel for the series, covering how the clique first formed.

So here I am succumbing to fate and writing this prequel. I know that most of you probably won't understand it since it includes a lot of internal jokes (though I'll try to make it understandable). I'm writing this mainly for the sake of our own laughter, so what the hell. Hope you guys enjoy it!

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Meet the BOBs #01 - Eh-Oh!
The Band of Brothers

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"Holy shit, look up guys!", exclaimed Mobie to his zombie-like companions.

It was early in the morning of 2002 that the three of them met, on a short flight of stairs underneath a stretch of walkway. Above them, a group of senior girls were making their way to class.

Kimmy replied, "---- [EDIT] He drooled.

"Maybe if they don't notice us, we could do this all day...", fantasied Mobie.

That was short-lived however, as moments barely passed before before the silence was broken. "OH MY GOD! IS THAT A G-STRING!!!", enquired Shaibouzie with full intent.

The other two just gave him a cold stare. "WHAT DID I DO??? I know! Let's call this blessed passageway The Perverted Road to Hell!", Shaibouzie remarked, trying to flair some intelligence.

Thus started the clique, with the three founders. Let's intro them a bit.

Meet Mobie, Owner of Cursed Blessings. 170cm tall, not all that fair, spiky hair and seriously needs to gain some weight. Part time Deep Thinker, Full time Idiot and the Family Playboy.

Meet Shaibouzie, No blog owned. 168 cm tall, not all that fair, wires for hair, needs to go on a diet and needs to stop using a towel to wipe his face. Overtime Idiot and Elephant Man.

Meet Kimmy, Owner of kim productions. 172cm(plus minus) tall, not all that fair, aspires to be a golfer and like shaibouzie, needs to go on a diet. Part time Deep Thinker, Usually never with the rest and failed philosopher.

"Cool, so now we own a Perverted Road to Hell. That would so please God", commented Mobie cooly.

"Mwuahahahaha! Not anymore! I shall claim the Perverted Road to Hell as mine instead! Mwuahahahaargh*cough,cough*haha!". From the bottom of the staircsae, an enemy approached. It was none other than the formidable Buffalo King Herald.

"You!", said Kimmy. "As our enemy, we must... Err... Screw, no. Thank, no. Defeat, no. Smooch, no. Oh yeah, defeat you!"

"Quick! Hit him with a stick and a ball!" instructed Mobie.

Shaibouzie looked around. "I can't find a stick!"

"You're staring at it!" came the reply from Mobie.

"Now, where do I get a ball?" said Shaibouzie.

"You're staring at it!" replied Kimmy this time.

"So where am I aiming at?" asked Shaibouzie.

"Find a weak spot. The neck!" replied Mobie.

"I can't see one!" Shaibouzie shouted back hysterically.

"Just hit me!!!" cried out Kimmy.

"Alright. Here goes nothing", said Shaibouzie. He lifted the ball, found it too heavy, and decided to just hit it from the ground with the stick. He held the stick firmly from the base of the neck and swung hard. With a *swoosh* and a *whack* and a *crack* and an *OW*, Kimmy shot off towards Buffalo King Herald.

"Hahaha! You can't defeat me with that!" sneered the neckless king. Kimmy kept coming towards him. "Holy shit! The smell! The smell!!!"

And with that, the founders of the BOB won their first battle. As they were glaring themselves at the blazing sunset from behind the girls above them, they wandered at what would come next.

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So there goes the first part. Comment people, comment!!!

Rafahn Ranting in Red

Rafahn

Recently was big baby Singapore's 40th birthday. Kind of makes you think, for a person, 40 years is quite old already. Thank god countries don't suffer menopause or impotence, I think.

Some people say life starts at 40. If you ask me, it's more like your paying life starts at 40. Once at that age, you seem to be paying for everything now: your bills, your children's bills, your wife's shopping, your children's shopping, well you get what I mean. Seems like Singapore is no different. We're paying extra for simple things like water and getting your car on the road.

So there I was, in Farhan's head, on the bus after having missed a stop. Again. I was thinking at what makes Singapore, well, Singapore. Looking out the window, it's quite easy to recognise. It's one of the only places with distinct fashion. There's the Chinese in tank-top and shorts, the Malays in tapered pants and the Indians in... What do they wear again?

Then there's the shopping centres. If you think about it, there's a shopping centre at every MRT station. Counting in the other shopping centres, that's a lot of shopping places. Add those two up and you'll have a shopping centre every two kilometres! You can imagine a marathon with shopping centres as pit stops.

"Oh no, that runner looks like he's not gonna make it. Just a little more and you'll be at Causeway Point, where they're having a 50% discount at Metro storewide!"

"SALE!!!", vroooooooom!

Sometimes, when I pass by the more ulu forested areas, I like to imagine myself in another country. You know, to destress from bustling Singapore. But the moment I turn back into the bus, you see the auntie beside you saying, "Wah, Singapore so hot hor!"

And you know your fantasy's over.

Well, being in Singapore isn't all that bad. At least you get to demonstrate your democratic abilities. Probably once in your lifetime, hopefully.

It looks like our Excellency will be running around for another six years. No one else seems to be up to face his 'dark' wrath. We can't say that's a bad thing either, after checking his profile. Turns out that Mr High Pants has done quite a bit. To date, he's been a social worker, director of the security and intel dept, Foreign Affairs permanent secretary, executive chairman of Straits Times Press, commissioner to Malaysia and president of good old Singapore. Phew, that's quite a list. So he really does do more than pop up and smile at events.

Taking a look back, the other presidents don't seem as flashy. Let's see... First we have Yusof Ishak. He literally was a figurehead, just to take the place as Head of State until he died 5 years after taking his post. To date, he has... his face on our money.

Benjamin Shears wasn't such a bad guy. Being Eurasian, makes us wonder if the British set him up to take care of ickle lil Singapore back then. They've got good reasons, the previous president died just to have his face on money. Shears was an obstetrician (a person who enjoys a woman's squeal as she gives birth) and taught at the University of Malaya (teaching.... how to squeal?).

Onto the next race, Devan Nair. The races seem to take turns here. He had his fair share of political achievements, but who in the right mind would be president of Singapore then live in Canada? He would. He did leave us a nice joke. Your know, the one with his wife screaming "Nair! Nair! Fire!" in the kitchen, which led to the '995' telephone hotline.

Singapore was lucky to have a people's person for the next president. Wee Kim Wee was highly popular, with experience as the chairman of the Singapore Broadcasting Corporation, now called MediaCorp. At least he enjoyed his last days here until his bladder burst him to death.

Finally! Singaporeans used democracy! First elected president was Ong Teng Cheong. Left a legacy of arts that gave birth to the Esplanade and Singapore as an arts hub. The guy kicked the bucket at a suspicious age of 66.


Having seen all that, I guess Mr High Pants isn't so bad after all. Hope he leaves us more than just his face on our money.

Roaring in Red

From right behind me, there came a steadily pitching hissing noise. I turned around just in time to see the projectile give a loud "bang", and turned into a most amazing spectacle of fireworks that close to the ground.

The date: 9th August 2005, place: Jurong East Heartland Celebration. Yes, I was one of the thousands out in the open on the night of the National Day.

"Do not ask of what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."

This saying has been proven true through and through, though around us Singaporeans still practise their hobby; complaining. They complain about the government, the weather, the educations system, anything imaginable. Now let us just consider the otherwise for a second. What has the country done for us?

A Singaporean would enjoy a lifetime of democracy, meritocracy, freedom of speech (compared to restricted speech elsewhere, this freedom is more than you think), a thriving economy for an island thought impossible to survive, sufficient welfare services, uncorrupted governance, freedom in religion, a voice for every ethnic group, protection against prejudice, sanctuary from terrorism, among many other benefits. Students further enjoy the edusave reduction, a comprehensive economy-driven education and a merit-based system.

With all of these, who would in the right mind still ask what the country has done for them?

Around me, people of countless differences were gathered. Their eyes told me of one purpose: to celebrate the nation's independance. I could only understand why they would want to commemorate the independance of the nation that has given them so much. Looking back at the crisis that made us instead of break us, I truly acknowledge the existence of the Singapore spirit. A nation can unite.

Racist? Maybe. Patriot? Definitely.

With forty years of wishes,
Happy Birthday Singapore



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The WIlderness Series #02 - Behind These Wandering Eyes

Rafahn: Well, I've been rotting in Farhan's head long enough. Since he's down, I'll be doing a full-length article this time. Can you believe it? An article of my own!!! So, I'll make do without all the crap that Farhan always comes up with and share with you something that's close to your hearts. So.... enjoy!

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The Wilderness Series #02 - Behind These Wandering Eyes
An article by Seraphim

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We've all gone through life, had a fair share of its hardship and shed a few tears. But the most memorable moments were the ones when we shared with a loved one. Speaking about loved ones, it's interesting to note how a guy can change when they face their counterparts. Today, let's take a look at some of these 'transformations'.

The Playboy
This is an obvious category; the name says it all. This guy is a sucker for relationships. Often we'll find him having more than one relationships at once. Let's not call it two-timing, let's call it multi-tasking. Commitment is a non-existent word for this guy. What pleases this chap are things that usually pleases his eyes. Like a busy fisherman, he'll reel in all the fresh, pretty fishes that comes near his line.

The Obsessed
While the Playboy is a sucker for relationships, this guy's a sucker for a specific girl. There's a slight understanding of commitment to him, at least as long as his obsession lasts. The distinct tell-tale sign of an Obsessed is the way he acts towards his girl. His fingers would twirl around his cellphone, bracing for an SMS from her, he can never keep her out of his conversations, and the ultimate confirmation of an Obsessed: he would die if his girl doesn't wave back. Yeah, I can hear the "ooh"s and the "ah"s already. You know what kind of person I'm talking about here right? A little like the Playboy, an Obsessed gets obsessed with a person who would catch his sore spot. If a girl were to find herself in the grasp of an Obsessed, don't reject him. Clean out his pockets first, he'll gladly do it.

The Desperado
This is an easy one to figure out. This guy's just plain old desperate. He's the type who's either new to relationships, became a host to newly raging hormones or been out of a relationship for too long. It's quite easy to recognise a Desperado; he'll try to catch anyone within his grasp. Either for a friend or a relationship, he'll grab them all. Usually likes to make known the fact that he's a real man and that he's got the girl to prove it. This guy wants to get the type that he wants, but beggars can't be choosers like they say, so he'll just grab them as they come.

The Family Man
This type's been getting more popular over the years. This guy's got a bit of the Playboy in him, but the difference is he won't admit them as relationships. Confused? Try replacing the word "girlfriend" with "sister" or whatever crackpot name they could think of. Does that ring any bells? We have to give them credit for one thing though, for calling their girlfriends 'sisters', they get one huge advantage: they can have as many girlfriends as they want without being accused of two-timing. Smart eh? I mean, it's logical, you can't have many girlfrineds but you can have many sisters. Man, this guy could have enough simultaneous relationships to make Playboy jealous. Like I said, this guy would never confess his love for his counterparts, calling it 'brotherly love' or something. Ugh, lame...

The Elephant Man
They say an elephant never forgets. I say an elephant has one hell of a thick skin. Just like our Elephant Man here. This guy's got a bit of the Desperado in him, with the difference being he doesn't acknowledge his own desperation himself. A master of drama, he'll act as if people actually think he's the hottest thing on legs, but of course the truth is much far off. Realising this is an impossibility for him, as he'll be obliged to keep thinking of his dellusional hot self. I guess there's no need to describe how this guy looks like; everything that's not what he says.

The Prince Charming
Don't get me wrong, the Prince Charming isn't the handsomest of them all. Hey, it's hard to keep beauty in royal blood you know. The Prince Charming is simply a guy who can keep his relationship (that's singular), quite a diversion from the guys above. He's not the sick one like the Obsessed, not dellusional like the Elephant Man and definitely not a Desperado. Just a guy who has a good old clean relationship, the classic type. That's not to say this guy's perfect. His imperfections? Er... I'll have to think about that...

The Lone Wolf
Aha, the final one on the list of misfits. Let's just get to the point here. This guy walks alone and wants to stay that way. Que themse song "Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams", heh. That's not to say he's gay either, since I'm talking about guys here, not people in between. This guy just wants to walk the lonely road on the boulevard of his own dreams. He doesn't mind it. I think.

So there you have it, the different classifications of the male mindset. Go figure out which one you are. Remember, in the real world, they tend to mix and match, so have fun classifying yourselves!

Forbidden Files #03 - A Rainbow in Black and White

Finally, I'm back. Oh, it's Farhan here. You want to make sure? Ok, ask me a personal question. What's my hobby? Blogging!!! I know Rafahn's been taking over, so if you want to make sure just ask him a personal question. Ok, that was lame. Anyway, I'm trying to come back with a blast here with the third Forbidden Files entry. I hope you'll enjoy it, so here goes!

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Forbidden Files #03 - A Rainbow in Black and White
An exposé by Seraphim

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Not more than five decades ago, Singapore was a much different place. Besides the difference in infrastructure and culture, there was one major element that was missing: racial tolerance. That's barely racial harmony, just racial tolerance. No, I'm not really going too deep into Racial Harmony Day here, but my intention is to arise the fact that not too long ago, the difference in race was a reason for riot in Singapore.

Readers might want to note on the difference between racial harmony and racial tolerance at this point of time as it will play an integral part in this article.

After the nation's claim over its liberty, four decades have passed since the riots took place. Soon, Singapore will be celebrating fourty years of independance. On the mark of four decades of independance, one might ask what has been achieved over all those years?

Achievements in technology and economics are nothing to the face of the world, where competition holds the likes of Japan and United States. A more significant achievement would be to overcome the challenges of the past. That brings us to the point: Have forty years really diminished racial differences? Or is racial intolerance still at large but done in more discreet manners?

Allow me to tackle on my eternal grudge with the government. The effort that the government has put in to propagandize racial harmony into the minds of every living soul in Singapore is admirable. The phrase "racial harmony" has been drilled into the minds of every Singaporean since birth. The education system is overflowing with lessons that educate students on the practices and beliefs of the different races in Singapore. By the time a student reaches adulthood, racial tolerance is no more a conscious effort, but an integral part of their living.

All these, I must admit, are not to be deemed sins of the powerful as it did, to an extent, achieve what it was meant to do. But as we all know, nothing can go against the force of will. And what exactly are the wills of those who carry the boiling blood of the intolerant people of the past?

Wake up fellow Singaporeans. Racial intolerance is still at large out here. Examples are lying out there naked for all to see. Put together forty people from mixed races into a class and see how the first cliques are formed. No doubt they would first be separated by race. How many of us still ask ourselves of a person's race when judging the person, for whatever reasons you can think of. The point here is that Singaporeans still ask this basic racist question, "What's his/her race?"

There may be a rainbow of races in Singapore that co-exist harmoniously on the surface, but they are nonetheless viewed as either black or white.

Let me paint a sharper picture with specific examples.

Being the dominant race, the Chinese are rarely the target of discrimination since they are the ones who discriminate. With that as a fact, I regretfully admit that I can barely recall any example against them. But then again, who do they think they are to take over the former Malay grounds of Singapura? Let's face it, they actually took over the country. From the all-powerful Lee Organisation to the lowering of university requirements to favour the Chinese (this is too good, you have to check this out yourself, there were reports that MENDAKI was furious).

Next comes the Malays. It would be good for you to read my first Forbidden Files entry for a deeper scoop on this. Let's see now, where to begin discriminating... Starting off with the sad fact that they take up a higher proportion of juvenile crimes, abortion and divorce to the ridiculously 'trendy' Mats and Minahs. I love the latter, they walk around flashing as if they're trying to get a bargain for a brain. They might be the bumiputras but what have they done? Let's see... try nothing. Compared to the other races they barely have any significant achievement. And that's a singular on "achievement".

If the Malays are easy to discriminate, nothing would be easier to discriminate than the Indians. Racist Indian jokes are a school commodity. When was the last time you heard a racist Indian joke? Last month, last week or yesterday? Invisible Indians in the dark are a classic. Fact: they're black, they're ugly and they stink. Literally. I mean, the worst case scenario in Singapore would be to get stuck in a lift with an Indian. Enough said before I die of laughter.

As you can see ladies and gentlemen (or megalomaniac Chinese, Mats and Minahs or invisible Indians), we're still a long way from racial harmony. Call me racist, I think I've deserved it.

My point for mentioning all of the above is not to arouse anger in the races amongst themselves, though that might be unavoidable, but to make everyone realise that they've got to stop taking races into consideration. Completely. Period. No strings attached. For harmony is the ignorance of its counterparts, not its remembrance.

Only then can there be a hope of true racial harmony.

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Phew, glad that one's over. Now, comments people! Comments!!!

Seraphim Anthology #05 - Earth Day

Rafahn: Hello again folks, just trying to fill up space here. Oh yeah, if we've just met, read the previous entry for my intro.

This entry is just something that Farhan came up with for the Earth Day poem thing. Seems like he ran out of ideas when he wrote it. Oh well, if he wants some drain washed poem to be on his blog, so be it.

So, here it is for your momentary enjoyment (or not)

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Seraphim Anthology #05 - Earth Day
A poem by Seraphim

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Gray, the shade of the clouds
Descend to the ashes my talon grasp smoke
Where are the azure mists where once my cry was shrill?
Where are the emerald glades where I swooped in for a meal?

Raven is the sea, life is now devoid;
Where once the mermaids swim and beam their nights spent merry-making;
Cinder is the forest, growth is now frozen;
Where once the wood nymphs dance in trance their faces were always grinning.
Sable is the air, motion is now halted;
Where once the sun motes swing and sing their lights were ever shining.

My wings I spread, in flight I've read the polluted landscape
Long I do the plains of yellow for me to escape
Wish I do the woods of green, man has yet to shape
Soil, flame, rain, wind
Hope...

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Ah feathers, told you it's bad. Farhan really lost his marbles on this one. I guess that's it for today. See ya all some other time then.

Within Now Without

Rafahn:
*stretch* *bones cracking* *yawn*
Man, it feels good to be back. For the less acquainted, no, I am not Farhan. I guess most of you have no idea who I am. Allow me to properly introduce myself.

My name is Rafahn, Farhan's alter-ego. I am an entity that resides in the deepest crevices of his mind, reading his every thought and memory. For an age now, since his last blog, that he kept me locked up in his dirty mind. At long last I could release my rush of creativity, like the title of this entry. Fine, probably most of you can't even comprehend what the title means. Anyway, Farhan regrettably announces that he has to be away from his blog due to a deprivation of inspiration. That should explain his seven week absence. For the time being, I'm here to fill him in.

In the upcoming days, I wish to dig out some of his memories and stash them here. That will include some accounts of his dirty (to an extent that is true) experience in Japan and his thoughts about the recently released Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Well now dear readers, I hope that we have made a good first account with each other. I very much look forward to reaching out to you soon.
P.s.: Not to mention plotting with me to take over Farhan and his blog...

Gilded Grimoire #04 – Two Face Too Many – Façade

Alright people, I’m back from exams. And I won’t apologize to say sorry that I have not posted for more than a week and that I hope you guys are still reading. I’m not doing that. Anyway, today I’m back doing what I did last six months ago, fiction writing! It just struck me as astonishing that the last time I wrote a fiction for my blog on the 11th November 2004, and that’s like six months ago!

For those who have never read any one of my fiction (which I think includes all of you), here’s a quick intro on what Gilded Grimoire is. It is a series of individual short stories about basically anything but are based on a central one word theme. I’ve started with Vengeance, and then went on to Hopelessness, Resistance and Imperfection. For today, I’ll be tackling Façade.

So there you go folks, enjoy.

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Gilded Grimoire #04 – Two Face Too Many – Façade
A fiction by Seraphim

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And the man just dropped dead.

The former terrorist fell down with a loud thud, followed by a silence of astonishment and occasional gasps. The four friends remained huddled where they were throughout the whole ordeal, too stunned by the spectacle before them. The fifth friend released himself from his attacking stance, staring at his handiwork that was the fallen man and a quick glance at the gun on the floor. It must be one of life’s ironies that the gun was in the hands of the man, a weapon of murder in the hands of the murdered.

The actual surprise to the huddled forms was not the death of the man, but the fact that one of them actually did it. They stared at their fifth friend in doubt, unsure of what to make out of the situation. Moments ago he sat huddled with the rest of them and the next moment he transformed, in looks and being, into that form that saved them all.

The surprise was the face of their fifth friend. It was not his.

30 minutes earlier

The band of five lay seated on the moss-covered floor. All of them were awake now, starving but conscious. The stench of the sewers had long left their thoughts as their worries dismissed that. A masked guard stood over them, a gun in his hand and eyes showing eagerness to put his sidearm to use. Somewhere else behind him, hidden among the shadows, stood his fellow accomplices speaking into a cell phone.

It must have been a day or so since the boys were kidnapped. It was hard to tell under the darkness of the sewers with only a fading light for illumination. As they were walking back the previous night, from the cover of the night came these masked men. The men covered their heads, beaten them and brought them to this forsaken place.

“What exactly are we looking for sir?” asked the man with the cell phone, with it on hands-free mode for his colleagues to hear. With nothing else to do, the boys decided to eavesdrop into the conversation.

“Well, that’s the problem you see,” replied a croaked voice from the cell phone, voicing with frustration and murderous intent. “The boy we’re looking for, he’s rather tricky. For some reason, no one knows how he looks like.”

I’ve always been living my life like this; a normal life by day and a more disturbing one by night. Under the cloak of darkness I would go about with my secret life, the life of a vagabond, unsure of what I’m looking for but always holding on to the hope that my purpose lies somewhere out there.

When I was small, my parents left me because of what I am. The first time it happened, my face initially turned into a blank canvas, waiting for the artist to define it. Then my hair changed, followed by the contours of my face, and then the eyes. My parents stared at me in disbelief, unsure of what to make out of me. Eventually, they decided I was too much of a worry for them. They abandoned me.

Apparently confused, the masked man continued, “So how do we know who’s the real one?” There was a pause, then the croaked voice sounded again, “You’ll have to meet back with me, I have some new information that you’ll have to see that might help. For now, you must know that whoever he is, he is the one with the information we need. And if you really have the real one with you, beware. It is said that he’s rather… dangerous.”

For a moment, the boys stared wide-eyed at each other. Then an awe-struck one spoke, “They’re looking for just one of us? You mean one of us is dangerous?” That statement brought out another silence. “Wait, they’re not even sure we’re who they’re looking for. I mean, they don’t even know how the guy looks like,” came the reply from a calm-faced one. “For all we know, they could have made a mistake.”

“But there’s also a possibility that one of us is just a disguise,” rebutted a more concerned one. “Furthermore, that guy is supposedly dangerous.”

Without hesitation, an optimistic voice came. “Don’t be ridiculous, we’ve known each other for ages. How can any of us be of any danger?”

Since then, I’ve been on the constant search for the place where I would truly fit in, normal, like everyone else. With each place comes a new face for me, afraid of having someone recognize my true self.

Whenever I change my looks, it is as if the whole world changed. My looks are not the only thing that changes; it goes along with my personality, like a role playing scenario. It is amazing how one’s perception utterly differs from one person to another. Each person’s perception is the product of the accumulation of the person’s life experience and opinions, with each person having their own encyclopedia of the world. There is a whole new world through different eyes.

Sometimes, I would wonder if it was right to deceive everyone around me. It is true that seeing is not necessarily believing. But I have come to assure myself that what I do is no different from what everyone else does. Everyone walks around with a mask of their own, showing one side of themselves to some and another side to others. The only difference between me and everyone else is that my masks are more physical.

“How can you be so sure?” came the voice of the fifth, unquestionably doubtful. “Now I don’t even know who to trust. Look, if any of you are who they’re looking for, just own up. For the sake of our safety.”

“Silence!” roared the masked guard. “I’m sick of your ramblings! If you so much as to utter another word, I swear I’ll shoot you where you sit!”

With that last remark, the awe-struck one shook. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die”, he whispered. In a hushed voice, the concerned one spoke, “Have you ever wondered, what exactly we live for?”

It was apparent to me that with my ability comes a purpose. The problem is, there seems to be no clue as to what that was. As I wandered along the darkened streets a night moons ago, it struck me. If I can’t find my purpose, then maybe I could create one.

Seeming like a doppelganger was a trait that gave me an edge. With it, I have managed to enter the most secured of vaults, the most secret of lairs and the most obvious of places unnoticed. Even the president’s office was not safe from my reach. People wonder what some of the greatest people in the world do, but I have come to note that the most wondrous things are the simplest ones. Like for example, what struck me as wondrous about the president is what he eats.

With excess to virtually everywhere, it was obvious that I have my hands on dangerous information. That is how I go about with my life, trading secret information on the black market. It did not disturb me the intention of the information’s use to the bidder. After all, I can be anyone, the enemy and the ally. But it did strike me as disturbing how I live my life. And to think all that I want is a normal life.

That last question left everyone stumped. Was there a right answer to that question? That thought kept everyone thinking.

“Oi, you there, keep the kids under control. Me and the guys gotta meet up with the boss. He said he has something we might need.” shouted the masked man from beneath the shadows. “Alright, go ahead. These boys ain’t going nowhere.” replied the guard.

The splashing made by their footsteps grew fainter as they left the place where the boys were kept. Though most of the men were leaving, the boys did not seem more assured. It was as if they knew there was an impending doom upon the place.

The tension was to the point of utter intolerance. The guard playfully pointed the gun towards the boys, revealing the barrel of the gun threatening the presence of a bullet through it. When all of them thought that the tension would become more murderous that the gun, the doubtful one stood.

That was when they all knew.

One moment he was just another one of them with paranoia written all over his face, the next moment he was barely recognizable. As he stood, his features started the transformation. From the top of his head, his hair was the first to morph, then his face and then the rest of his body. Standing at his full height, he was a totally different person.

“You,” remarked the guard, unsurprised by the sudden metamorphosis.

“Yes me,” the stranger replied in a calm, casual voice. With flight of feet he moved with blinding speed, reappearing in the blink of an eye behind the captor. A harrowing glare shone in his eyes before he made his next move, apparently signaling the end for the masked guard.

There was no loud bang, no stab in the guts, or the sound of fighting. All the remaining four boys knew was that there was a “crack”, and that it was all over.

And the man just dropped dead.

I knew that I they would find out someday. I knew that it was not possible to keep up a mask forever, but I never intended for them to find out this way. The truth is, it happened, and that I could not change what has been.

As I stared back at the four of them, I knew that I would look back to the times we had and miss them. But now that they knew, I could no longer remain. It would only endanger them further. So I turned to them with a smirk of goodbye, and ran.

Trickster. Liar. Betrayer. Protector.

What will I be next?

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Phew, months of not writing fiction sure made me rusty. But it was fun nonetheless. For those who are confused, note that there are a few POVs (point of views) in the story. And oh, if you have missed it (which is most probable), the whole story is rather symbolic in most aspects of it, that’s why it took some time to write. I would appreciate it if you would take your time to indulge in them.

Then again, you might not.

Me, Professional Hypocrite

God, how did I ever manage to spill all that bullshit? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking out loud. For today, I've finally gotten sick and tired of my usual columns so I'd like to deviate a bit and write about a popular theme: Hypocrisy.


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Me, Professional Hypocrite


"Say to others what you wish to be said to yourself."
- popular old saying by some unknown goddamn person


Let us all just stop doing whatever god-forbidden activity that we are all doing right now and have a moment of enlightenment for a second. Let's think, how many of us here have heard or are guilty of saying "I hate backstabbers, betrayers, liars, bitches/bastards (and their synonyms)"? Yet a closer look would tell us that we belong to the very category that we've mentioned above.

Yes people, this is no exposé, everyone's a hypocrite. Oh shut up and don't say no. You're a hypocrite too, yes you, the one saying you're not. If you hate me for saying this, then congratulations, you've just joined the Hypocrite Club. Strange how we could hate the very qualities that we ourselves possess.

Allow me to give you a personal encounter with a hypocrite (actually all you have to do is just look for someone else). The other day, I went to have a haircut. Now, I'm a paranoid person but nothing scares me more than going to get a haircut, because that is when I really get paranoid. I could kill you before you could even strike me but when I go for a haircut, the paranoia becomes overwhelming as I sit helplessly in that Throne of Doom as another person holds sharp tools (capable of performing the most brutal murder) close to my head. What's more, I have to do it willingly.

Back to the topic. The guy who cuts my hair is kinda interesting. I'm quite familiar with him as I always look for him at the usual place for haircuts. Well that doesn't sound quite right. Anyway, the thing about him is that as he does his stuff with the objects of brutal murder, he has a knack of asking me about my academic life. There's always that pause between snips for him to commence his lectures proper.

In those so called 'lectures', I'd pick up things about how to study better, the methods to score papers, how the education system sucks, same goes for government (stuff that taxi drivers complain about) and things like that amidst my constant nods and grunts every 2 to 3 minutes. The thing that I always wondered was if he knew so much about all those things, why in the world is he still grazing about people's hair? Then he would go on telling me how well his kids are doing etc etc.

During those moments I always had the urge to jump out of that Throne of Doom and give him a lecture. Firstly, he has his facts wrong, like that time when he mixed up Newton with Edison. Secondly, I think he has the impression that I was some dirtbag dropout. Excuse me mister, but I'm studying at some god-forsaken yet so-called prestigious school, hold appointments in everything I am in and probably going to a hell-lot better JC than your cunt-dripping daughter.
Editors note: Whoops, did that turn out too harsh?

Anyway, he's quite an amusing guy.

Go ahead guys, take a moment and relate yourselves to the story above or look for the inner hypocrite in you. Find it and hold on to that thought as you read the following.

With respect to the topic of hypocrites, let me start a new leaf for everyone and blurt out some optimistic lines instead of their pessimistic versions.

"I don't hate backstabbers because I luuuurve them. These people are my friends as we're friends not because of the happpy moments we've shared but the amount of times we've stabbed each other in the back. Heck, I probably had my share of stabbing and getting stabbed too. How could anyone hate these people when everyone's a backstabber too? Backstabbers should be loved, not hated."

"I don't hate liars now as I've realised that liars equate to every human being. My friends lie to me all the time but I do not hate them for it. Instead I appreciate them for being who they are. Heck, I'm a liar too. I lie all the time, to my family, friends, teachers, everyone. Lies make the world go round and we should all embrace it's ironic truth."

There, those are what people should be saying instead of the stupid common cliché lines of hatred that is often heard. Accept yourselves and everyone else for who they really are. Do not turn away from reality.

Come people, from this day forth, we shall address ourselves as Me, Professional Hypocrite. Let the whole world know who we really are.

Until then, let your inner hypocrite out to play.

The Wilderness Series #01 - Of Glitter and Silk

Hello again readers. Allow me to apologize for the excruciatingly long article before this one. I guess I got carried away, and all that words seemed to have dampened the effect of the contents. Since that is the case, I’ll hold back the continuation until enough readers request for it.

For now, I have composed a little something about a topic that is very close to my heart. If the title doesn’t give away the answer, then read on. If you’ve figured it out already, just read on anyway.

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The Wilderness Series #01 - Of Glitter and Silk
A tribute to the student councillors
An article by Seraphim

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[ Part I ]
Early morning, at the start of another school day, I stepped into the school feeling as though I’m doing it for the first time, for this time, there was something different. Unknowingly, I slipped into the morning crowd towards where my class was seated. It all seemed normal, yet I could not dismiss the emptiness that now resided in my heart.

I did not need a reminder of what I was missing, but a reminder was what came into my sight. From across the parade square I saw it; a glitter of gold reflecting the might of the morning sun and a swish of blue silk cascaded by little torches. It was the councillors’ badge and tie.

For almost as long as I have been in my school, the only version of myself that I could remember was as a councillor. But now that I have stepped down, my whole school life was seen in a whole new light. Without my appointment, I have begun to realize that being a councillor means a whole lot more than just wearing the badge and tie. Now that I am without it, I have begun to miss it.

One might ask, what is it about a councillor anyway? A councillor is truly to be a class above the rest. Their lives are dominated with authority and discipline, from the very start of the morning. A councillor’s routine starts with the punctual reporting and performing of duties. To even broaden the gap differentiating councillors and mere students, they even sit at a separate place. Checks on appearance and punishment are even done internally, isolated from outside influence. But that is just what everyone sees.

To be a councillor is to be more than just a disciplinarian. Every councillor is part of a bigger picture, one that have come to terms as family, for their relationship among one another is that close. Within the council itself are systems to keep every councillor in check, from their discipline to their very welfare. Councillorship is not to just be looked at, but also to be looked after. Only with that kind of unity can the council function properly.

Truly, a family exists within the council. They share numerous joyful moments together. A councillor’s life is full of outings for bonding, pizza treats for laughs and chats for the sake of fun.

This is not to say that it is an easy life. The consequence of misconduct is far more severe for a councillor. Upon their shoulder sits a very heavy responsibility, concerning not just themselves but the whole student body, as that is where their service and purpose lies. On the other hand, with these downsides in their lives their bonds become stronger, for it is not the happy times shared that brings people closer, it is the sad times that does.

[ Part II ]
For me, my life as a councillor was an unforgettable one. My batch was the earliest to be recruited, with our selection near the end of secondary one. Before we were even recruited, we were fortunate to participate in a selection camp, where our performance influenced our chances of proceeding.

Since the investiture was in mid sec two, there was an awkwardly long probation period. Most of us took this in a good sense as we got to do what the other batches did not; get to know the Exco. Due to the short coinciding service duration, the other batches of recruits barely had much chance to interact with their Exco, so we were considered lucky.

The official start of councillorship was a grand one, with a grand investiture and a councillor dinner just a week after that. Working with the new Exco was quite a fulfilling experience. We got to know how the other tick through daily duties and the torturing camps we endured. Kind to think of it, it was under their leadership that the most trying camps was conducted.

Then came my third year in school, qualifying me for an Exco appointment. Naturally, I was nominated for an Exco position. Looking back at the time before becoming an Exco, the journey before it was the most significant. The assistant Exco had to put together a play done by the new recruits, and to me it was under that pressure that we got to know each other by name. The final Exco was not as we expected. There was a lot of discontent (especially me) amongst us, something that we later found to have a different effect.

The Exco was finalized, and we had to bear our grudges against one another. The Exco were really strangers to each other at the beginning, some even had enmity between each other. Through our service for the council, we developed a strange dependency for togetherness, and become the closest of friends.

Now it is sadly the end of that road for us. The last part of it was the most tasteful. The Exco had a first hand experience at the process in the selection of the new recruits. Only then did we realize the importance this had to the school. We weren’t just separating the good from the bad, instead planning for the future of the school. Being a councillor gives one an opportunity to make a change, a power that could not be taken lightly. Only those with the purest of intentions were endowed with such power.

The investiture was yet another symbolic part of my service. The transition of the Exco was the sifting of the sand from the previous Exco to the next, symbolizing the handing down of our legacy and knowledge to live on in the new council.

Now that the 5th Executive Committee members along with the other councillors have stepped down, we sit back to watch the newly formed 6th Student Council fall into place and hopefully, bring up the legacy of the councillors.

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A big thank you to all those who have helped the councillors in one way or another.
To the teachers who led us, a big hug for your perseverance and support.
To the ex-councillors under the charge of the 5th Exco, we salute you for your undying dedication to our cause.
To the 5th Executive Committee members themselves, there never was a tighter friendship than ours. I’ll always miss you guys.
To the 6th Student Council and its Exco, you can’t go looking for that light at the end of the tunnel. You have to spark it yourself. Now.