sigh with a smile

The Ideal situation.

In Reality...

i sigh(with a smile). I get a kick every time I see her standing there before me. I get a kick even though it's clear to me that she obviously does not adore me

you don't have to be a superhero. just someone's hero

wow.
it sucks to be horrifyingly sick, and blame the whole world when things don't go my way. it is so easy to make excuses, as there are an inifinite could-have reasons why things went wrong. however, i've realised that whenever i voice out my complaints, whatever i say will fall on my own deaf ears. so there's no point in faulting anyone else, but myself.(then what happens when these pessimistic feelings bottle up and take a depressing toll.. like how it is now) i've had enough. i want to correct my imperfections. the will is there, so WHY AM I FIGHTING A LOSING BATTLE? i tell myself to think positively, yet somehow i just can't concentrate. i resolute myself to do something, but i'll end up forgetting my purpose. i'm such a loser. and i hate to lose.

what's holding me back? why cant i unleash the talent? why can't i have the ability to manipulate time&space, move at superhuman speed and be that man of steel? they say you don't have to be a superhero. just someone's hero. we can do no great things, only small things with great love. then why do humans, insignificant beings such as myself, try to live up to everyone elses expectations? why do we want to be the greatest and best? why do we feel the urge to want to stand out sometimes? why do we demand respect? why do we ask so many questions?

WHY?


wow.
had a hot date with my squash racquet today. but things went awry. i played the game wrong. i didn't employ enough tact. maybe i didn't try hard enough. i missed the sweet spot. the ball didn't connect. i timed my strokes badly. and now, the frame of our relationship has collapsed. and we've decided to break up. or rather, the racquet broke. and now i have to get a new one. and that'll cost me. owning a squash racquet is like having a girlfriend - you could say it's isotopic.

sigh. squash is an enigma. why do the courts appear so small from the outside, yet one step through the door makes you feel like you're upsizing that pathetic student's meal you buy from mcdonalds?

physics lectures take a toll on my sanity, it's not a theory-

wow.
'its not what someone says about you that changes the general public's impression on you, but how you respond to that certain comment that changes the image on you viewed by others.'-(absorbed from gab's philosophy on social synthesis)

Hmm, at the end of the day, it's about how you view yourself as the man in the mirror, and whether you're able to look into your own eyes and say, "that's me". Being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you and your relationship with yourself, your family and your friends. So do what your heart tells you to, for life is about the senses, about the touch and about consistency.

wow.
physics lectures take a toll on my sanity...
somehow i imagine myself in the lift, with apparent weight support. something goes wrong and the lift starts free falling with gravitational acceleration of 9.81m/s^2, from maybe 10 storeys up? i desperately cling to the railing. when the lift crashes at the bottom, i fight the relative impulse and the law of conservation of momentum to forcefully jump upwards in order to neutralise the downward inertia[which in effect, is impossible]. at the same time, the lift's mechanical system explodes(i imagine a rising explosion), so i lean towards the side with my back facing the charring flames. i continue clutching on to the railing support, with my back dearly burnt. But what happens next if it turns too hot, and i can't hold on further? will i allow the heat to sizzle into my palms, or let go and be devoured by the fire? then help arrives, and my rescuers-to-be throw down a rope for me to climb to safety. but what if the rope snaps halfway up? finally, i can only imagine my body landing on the floor of the lift in a dozen awkward obscene positions.

self-inflicted paranoia? or is it just lek bee hoon ..

5 dollars is alot of money.

wow.
not much inspiration nowadays. must be the barber's fault. i quote my dumbblonde friend -"cut hair till no hair left then end up also no brains left..(and she starts laughing in the most awkward fashion -an inhaling laugh instead of the usual exhaling opposite)". how logic-defying she is. BUT, does a trip to the barber really make a difference in the way we think? at least for guys, usually it'll feel like there's a load off my head; both in the literal and thoughtful sense. Cos as i bounce around in the court, i feel lighter, as if i'm wearing nike-air shoes, but this time it's called no-hair instead. [random fact: now you know where the term airhead comes from]

i remember wearing braces to training for the first time 2 months ago. "extra metal too heavy lah... weight pulling me down, can't run!". yet today with less mass on me, i still lost my match against yx. and now i owe him a lunch, instead of what could have been- the privilege and supersexual honour of wearing the ac squash captain badge for a week. now i feel stupid. maybe a haircut does make one less smart. the missing hair seemingly brings about a turmoil of absent memories. like shaving off brain cells. not only do i see things in different light now, i feel so "fresh"(-quote lauren) that it's like a reboot of the mind, a brand new system startup with absolutely no programs installed at all. but maybe last time can't see cos long fringy hair blocking the light. haha.

wow.
i'm gonna join students council. not. dunno. maybe. contemplating it.
even if i'm a nominee. will i get voted in? will i deserve to be in it? will i want it? will i enjoy the responsibility part?(or end up like a senior who got sacked in the fight club incident)
what are the benefits. advantages. perks. A year of funnnn and like a lifetime of friendship?
at the exclusively cheap cost of $5. hmm. shouldn't they be paying councillors for their service?
plus, one has to go through a 300 word self-essay, 30 minute interview and 144000 seconds of campaigning?
plus the only stylish reason to join council is that it makes u feel and look good about yourself. and u get to wear those goody2shoes.
anyway, something for you people to laugh about: before coming to jc i thought council was referred to as counsel(totally off-meaning). haha. councillor vs counsellor

zz. why the hell am i wasting time here when i've got a gp essay and chinese compo to take care of.

countdown to april 7th twentyoeight. 6 months before she graduates. so what.

As i eat takeout fried rice, think about what to blog for april fool's, drinking what i thought was orange juice at first (but turned out to be carrot juice), my mind turns blank. not that i'm not typing out anything or what, but all i'm shooting is blanks. dear cupid, if you're for real, you've gotta lend me one of your arrows. Cos so what if she knows my name, if she doesn't know me. so what if she tastes the chocolates, if she hasn't tasted what it means to know me. so what if i see her, if she doesn't wanna see me. so what if i think of her, if she thinks nothing of me. so what was the armageddon of embarassment for? so what was it worth? all that ammo intrinsically targeted at her have just richocheted off the vantage point and fired back at me. all i've changed is the way i think she looks at me, and the increased number of backflips my stomach makes when that happens. she doesn't need a timepiece to enchant me- her hips, her thighs, i'm already hypnotised. 6 days left, 6 months before she graduates. there's just not enough time. i ask myself what's with all the usual lovesick acronyms and overflowing anti-endorphins,. why am i bathing in selfpity again? why is my life such a turn off? goodnight.